Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: The End of Ch. 2–Mutual Addiction

Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.


20131102-145624.jpgFor the remainder of the night I cried profusely–mostly trying to make sense out of nonsense. And when I awoke on the next day, my lip was black and blue; cut up; and swollen–this is what I looked like for my daughter’s 5th birthday celebration. I was hideous. I don’t even remember what I told my kids. Pathetic. I didn’t stay angry at Slimm, or away from Slimm. This was the self-inflicted pain of an addict.


December 2004

As the arrival of December came, I received a new position as an administrative assistant through a temp agency; and my kids began a new life at a new school and with new friends. But I was growing restless and lonely in Moreno Valley; not once had Slimm come to visit me. And I drove to L.A. on Fridays and back to Moreno Valley on Sundays religiously like a damn fool.

I began to see things for what they truly were. For example, when the kids had their parent teacher conferences and award ceremonies, I would go to them like I always had before, but this time I would do it alone–without Blu. It didn’t make any sense on why I would block the father of my children; Blu was a constant factor in our children’s lives. Why was I making it harder on myself? And possibly, on my kids? Furthermore, the distance from L.A. was starting to take a toll on me; I hated the drive! When I thought about it, I asked myself who was really benefiting from these living arrangements? And it was one individual, of course: Slimm. There was no telling what Slimm was up to, but it boiled down to one factor: he wanted to isolate me from Blu; which made him feel secure and in control. So that’s when I made my decision to move back to L.A.

I love city life and I always will–plus my kids needed their father. I got them re-enrolled to their original elementary school and our living arrangements were this: the kids lived with their dad since their school was less than a block away from his apartment and I would stay with Faith until I found a place of my own – six months, tops.
Reflecting back, many of my arguments with Slimm were centered around Blu; he didn’t want me in Blu’s apartment. So everyday after work I would take my kids to the library to complete their homework and brush my daughter’s hair in my car, rather than in Blu’s home, where my kids stayed. But what really stunned me was that he would have a hissy fit everytime I gave Blu my cell number and a chirp [FYI: A lingo for a call on Nextel phones back in 2004]–A major warning sign that I chose to ignore. How did he NOT expect me to be in contact with Blu?–the father of my children. I didn’t understand his way of thinking: Was he really this ignorant? Or was his insecurities that bad? Come to find out, it was both. He didn’t have kids and didn’t understand the relationship needed between two functioning parents. And if he could keep Blu at a far distance he’d feel secure and in control. He demanded power over me, which I allowed him to have.

Christmas Eve 2004

Christmas Eve is here; the most wonderful time of the year. A day of peace and love. However, this particular Christmas Eve would soon turn out to be the complete opposite–a day of war and hate.

The idea of spending the holidays with Slimm made me smile; this was going to be our first Christmas together. He arranged for a lavish hotel suite with all the fine trimmings. [I could even tell by the way he spoke to me]. I was hyped for the day to come and when it finally did he made it a point to treat me like an annoyance to him.

Our conversation over the phone was dry and short. His disposition towards me was cold; I once again cried uncontrollably, but on Faith’s bed. I had no idea what was going on. I begged him to talk to me, I wanted to know what the problem was, but the more I tried, the more irritated he became with me. I remember him saying to me in a callous tone,

“Sharine, you’re making a fool of yourself!”

Feeling embarrassed, pitiful, and foolish, I hung up the phone. With each passing moment, I was exposing myself to more hurt. I suppose it didn’t take much energy to treat me badly.

My confidence was diminishing; my self-esteem was dwindling; and I was constantly second-guessing myself: “Why is he mad?”;“Did I do something wrong?”;“And what was it?” I’m sure he knew how needy and weak I was, which is why he took each and every episode to another level. The day continued and I hadn’t heard from him.

Around 6 pm that evening I chirped his phone to see what was up–what the plans were. Of course, he didn’t hesitate to make me wait–responding back some time later with, “I’m busy.” I was heated. He was treating me like I was nothing–like I was of no significance. I sat in my car for a few minutes thinking of the mental games he was playing, but I had to shake them off. It was time to visit my kids where I should’ve been from the start. I pulled up to Blu’s apartment; turned off my phone; threw it on the passenger seat; and went upstairs.

We had a great time! We ate dinner; watched movies; and opened presents–we were happy and cozy. I missed our family life, and I found myself wishing it would be like this all the time; it made me sad. Why couldn’t it be like this when I was with Blu? I dismissed the thought because it would only break my heart even more. I put my kids to sleep [ ready for Christmas morning!]; kissed them goodnight; and headed out the door. I walked out to my car cautiously, looking around for any sign of Slimm; he was nowhere in sight. But he was sneaky like that though. [He often rolled around trying to spot my car and would be mad if he did.] Once I got inside my car safely I realized that I needed gas. So I headed to Arco gas station on La Cienega; but not before turning on my phone to see that I had a thousand missed calls and chirps from Slimm.

I couldn’t believe this guy! He didn’t want to talk to me earlier, but now he expects me to answer his chirp on the fly? In my frustration, I decided to do the same thing that he did to me: I ignored his ass. I was so tired and not in the mood to deal with his insecurities.

After filling up my tank, I jumped in my car and went East on Rodeo Road. I just crossed over La Cienega when Slimm, out of nowhere, cut me off in the middle of the street. The streets were vacant, which would explain his bold move. He was driving a rental–a large sedan-type vehicle–which he used to block my car from proceeding forward. He quickly jumped out of the car and walked briskly toward my driver window; my window was rolled up. Sternly he said,

“Lower your muthafuckin’ window, before I break it!”

I quickly lowered it and sat there scared beyond scared. Spit once again was flying all over my face,

“Why the fuck you didn’t chirp me back? Where the fuck you been?”

I answered him truthfully with a touch of attitude, “At Blu’s house–visiting my kids on Christmas Eve!”

I can tell in his eyes that he wanted to slap the shit out of me. He told me to follow him down the street, I was hesitant, but he was adamant.

“I’ll go if you promise not to hit me,” I said.

The words just came out with no thought. I sounded like one of those women that I promised I would never become: a weak woman–with inferior standards and a lack of worth. I was ashamed of myself. Is this what love was supposed to be? To have you feel ashamed of yourself? No, not at all! But I was losing myself in him.

I followed him a few blocks; made a left turn onto a silent residential street; and proceeded to park.

“Get out. I wanna talk to you!” he shouted.

Timidly I followed his instructions. With my back against my car door he bent down to get in my face [I’m 5’0 tall and he’s 6’6, so he had to bend down to look me in my eyes].

“Why the fuck you gotta be all up in that nigga’s apartment?”

I answered furiously, “What part of ‘my kids are there’ don’t you understand?!”

Then he did the unthinkable. He grabbed my arm with his bare hand, pulled me towards his rental, and without a second thought threw me into the trunk, and slammed the door on top of me.

It went pitch-black. Instantly I began to scream and I cried hysterically. All kind of crazy thoughts started to run through my head. I didn’t know what to expect. Was he going to set me on fire? Bury me alive? Kidnap and kill me? My thoughts were never ending. Although they sickened me, the truth was I had no idea where this man’s mind was going; so I thought the worse.

What seemed like hours, being locked away in a trunk, were only minutes; he released me right after my freakishly deafening cries [which I assumed was the reason he let me out]. Once I got out he said this to me,

“I’m not fucking with you.”

This was his way of stabbing me without actually doing it. He wanted to hurt me by any means necessary and proved it again by holding a bat in his hand–attempting to terrorize, hurt or do both.

I drove to Faith’s house in tears–only to be mad at myself. I knew I had to leave him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My thoughts bombarded me:

“Did I really love him more than I loved myself?”;“Why else would I settle for this type of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde behavior?”; “Why didn’t I just walk away and call it quits?”

I didn’t know the answers; I just knew I loved him. After each episode, I’d think of the good times we shared, and I’d give in and call him–and he’d be waiting for that call. It was a mutual addiction. A week later we started where we left off: in a ghetto love affair.


ThrowBack Thursdays: Play the Game–Not the Man (A Tribute to Kobe Bryant)

Every Thursday I post a miscellaneous article that I’ve written in the past or an interview of an extraordinary individual.

This week’s ThrowBack Thursdays: Play the Game–Not the Man (A tribute to Kobe Bryant


“There’s 30 seconds on the shot clock; your team mates are covered except for you. People are out of their seats, cheering from the stands, and you are separated from the basket by one man. The ball is now in your hands, what do you do? Sometimes we get so caught up with the person in front of us, that we lose site of our goal, which is behind the person. However, its people like Kobe Bryant that reminds us that our eyes should be fixated not on the person but the goal above our heads.”

This was my very very first full length post that I shared with whole wide world as a first time blogger. Kobe Bryant is my favorite Basketball player, not to mention that I’m a die-hard Lakers fan! This post was inspired by his abilities to stun the world with his amazing feats and make the impossible look easy. Watching him weave through 3 guys for the dunk, or making an incredible shot from outside the 3 pt arch–with 10 seconds on the shot clock–has always amazed me. It has amazed me so much, that I characterized his playing to our own obstacles in life.

Kobe Bryant is one of those few players that rarely goes toe to toe with an obstacle or a player, nonetheless fights or calls out his opponent. He always fixates his eyes to the goal and not the person in front of him. If we all can do that, then we can all appreciate life a little more; instead of hating our opponents or letting obstacles keep us away from our goal–play the game of Life!

   “Thank you Kobe for inspiring me and I am glad to see you back on the court–showing the world that an Achilles heel won’t keep you down from playing the game!” –Prince

To read, click on the link below

Play the Game–Not the Man

Daily Newsfeed

Today the world pay tribute to Nelson Mandela; Two NY Times Reporter sue the Dept of Homeland security; Former Mayor of San Diego Bob Filner is finally sentenced; A recent study shows that many Blacks and Latinos don’t have retirement savings; and What your grocery store says about your politics. All this and more, please follow the links below.

Nelson Mandela’s memorial service

NY Times reporters sue DHS

Bob Filner sentenced to 3 years Probation, 3 months home confinement

Washington Post: Study shows that many Black and Latinos have no retirement savings

What your grocery store says about your politics

Weekly Spiritual Digest: Keep Calm and Carry On [God’s Will]!


Jesus left that part of the country and returned with his disciples to Nazareth, his hometown. The next Sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed. They asked, “Where did he get all this wisdom and the power to perform such miracles?” Then they scoffed, “He’s just a carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas, and Simon. And his sisters live right here among us.” They were deeply offended and refused to believe in him.
Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his relatives and his own family.” And because of their unbelief, he couldn’t do any miracles among them except to place his hands on a few sick people and heal them. And he was amazed at their unbelief. Then Jesus went from village to village, teaching the people.

(Mark 6:1-6 NLT)

Jesus says that a prophet is never honored in his hometown but that doesn’t mean his work is any less important. A person doesn’t need to be respected or honored to be useful to God. If friends, neighbors or family don’t respect your Christian work, don’t let their rejection keep you from serving God!

One truth that I have learned early in my life is that you can’t force people to like you–no matter how hard you try to make them smile or respect you. This was indeed a painful truth for me–while I was growing up–but it was self serving; because it taught me to not waste my kindness or energy on those who don’t want it or those who pride themselves too much. Just like this verse here, Jesus knew that there were those that needed him the most; and so he did not waste his time with those “unbelievers.”

In life, we too must learn from this example. We must learn to not let rejection (especially people from our own hometown) hold us back from fulfilling our purpose and God’s purpose. We must continue like Jesus did and carry on.

So this week, “Keep Calm and Carry On [God’s Will]!”

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Ch. 2 Mutual Addiction (continued)

Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.


20131102-145624.jpgHe threw me around the room; tore the clothes off my body; and choked me out. I fell to the floor and I felt my body go limp; breathing became difficult–he must have noticed because he took a break from his rampage. Assuming that he was trying to regain his energy for round two, which I was not up for, I took the opportunity to sprint to the bathroom and locked myself in.

I found a corner on the bathroom floor near the shower; I brought my knees up to my chest, burying my face; and I cried uncontrollably. My heart was beating rapidly as though it was going to explode inside my chest. Just to think that three hours earlier I was consumed in his happiness, but now at this moment I was frightened for my life. I tried to calm myself, wondering how I was ever going to get out of this room, nonetheless the bathroom, alive.


A few minutes went by, then he started banging on the door threatening to throw my possessions away if I didn’t come out. Tauntingly he added,

“The shit you bought with my money, I’m taking back. You didn’t deserve it anyway.”

I sat there silently, refusing to respond. Every few minutes he would return to torment me:

“You gotta come out sooner or later and I’ll be here waiting!”

I sat in silence [“like, what the fuck?!”]. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t believe I was stuck sitting on the bathroom floor for two hours, half-naked. My mind began to work–thinking of ways to escape without coming in contact with him–and that’s when I remembered: the room’s front door and bathroom door were adjacent to each other. I figured that it would be easy enough to get out and run. I knew that if I didn’t make a move right now, I would be trapped all night. But first I had to grab my purse and clothes [I wasn’t trying to leave anything behind because I knew I wouldn’t see them again].

I stood up slowly, unlocking the door making minimal noise as possible. As I pushed the door open I peeked out and noticed that he was sitting on the bed; watching television like nothing happened. I looked over for my things and I found them sitting on the floor beside the dresser. It was now or never. I made a quick dash for it, grabbing my belongings and hurried back to the front door. I was relieved when I made it to the door but without warning he grabbed my bags and started dragging me back–dragging me back to Hell. I turned around to face him, with my back to the door, and we pulled on the bags like it was a game of tug of war–in this case Life or Death. Finally I made it out of the room, but I was still fighting with him for my things–still half naked. In desperation, I screamed,

“Help! Somebody, help me!” hoping to grab anyone’s attention.

My cry for help worked and suddenly he let go of his tight grip; I fell back against the wall and flat on my ass. Half-naked and without a second thought, I ran quickly down the hall to the stairs and looked back over my shoulder to see if he was behind me; he was out of sight. As soon as I made it safely to my car, I then zoomed straight to my girlfriend Faith’s house.

*Faith was Blu’s cousin. She lived in the apartment building that Blu’s parents’ owned–she actually lived next door to my in-laws. We became close right after I gave birth to my son. At this point we had been friends for eight years and I knew I could trust her. Even though she was Blu’s cousin, she was loyal to me. And to this day I still appreciate her and the friendship that we have today.

Once I made it to Faith’s place, I was embarrassed knowing that she would see me like this. And once she saw me, she already knew what happened to me–especially with my face all beaten up. She was so pissed when she saw me; but I still would not leave Slimm. So what could she say to make a difference?

For the remainder of the night I cried profusely–mostly trying to make sense out of nonsense. And when I awoke on the next day, my lip was black and blue; cut up; and swollen–this is what I looked like for my daughter’s 5th birthday celebration. I was hideous. I don’t even remember what I told my kids. Pathetic. I didn’t stay angry at Slimm, or away from Slimm. This was the self-inflicted pain of an addict.



Daily Newsfeed

World icon and former South African President Nelson Mandela passes away at the age of 95; Former Vice President Dick Cheney does not regret voting against Mandela’s Freedom; Kim Jong Un’s disgraced uncle seeks asylum in South Korea; Twitter appoints its first female board member; and, This 19th century photo is probably the world’s first selfie. All this some more, please follow the links below

Nelson Mandela Remembered

Former VP Dick Cheney maintained that Mandela was a terrorist

Kim Jong Un’s uncle seeks asylum in South Korea

Twitter appoints Marjorie Scardino as first female board member

The world’s first selfie (1893)

ThrowBack Thursdays: Who is Kim Jong Un?

Every Thursday I post a miscellaneous article that I’ve written in the past or an interview of an extraordinary individual.

This week’s ThrowBack Thursdays Edition: “Weekly Political Report: Kim Jong Un…Who?”


I wrote this article during the North Korean Nuclear Scandal, that happened last spring when North Korea or Kim Jong Un threatened to nuke South Korea. I also remember that I wrote this as a special request for my brother, Asante, who was confused on the subject matter–specifically on “‘Who is Kim Jung Un?’ And ‘Why is he posing a threat to the US and to the World?'”And in doing so, I managed to compile a few sources, combined with my political expertise, to breakdown the North Korean Scandal: Who is Kim Jung Un? How did the Nuclear threat started? And Why Kim Jong Un is posing as a potential threat to U.S. national security and international security?

To read my article, click on the link below.

Weekly Political Report: Kim Jong Un…Who?

If you pay attention to the first lines of my article, you will see that I made a parody of Rap Artist Mike Jones’ famous lyrics: Mike Jones..Who? Mike Jones..Who?

Daily Newsfeed

Daytime host Martin Bashir resigns from MSNBC news after racial remarks to Sarah Palin; National Security Advisor Susan Rice accuses China and Russia of human rights abuse; JP Morgan Bank warns 465K users on data loss after cyber attack; Washington Post reports that the NSA has gathered nearly 5 billion cell phone data globally;and Norman Rockwell becomes America’s most expensive artist. All this and more, please follow the links below.

Martin Bashir resigns from MSNBC

Susan Rice criticizes Human Rights Abuses in China and Russia

JP Morgan warns its users of data loss after cyber attack

Washington Post: NSA gathers data on cellphone locations globally

Norman Rockwell’s paintings sells for record smashing prices

Weekly Political Report: Financially Conservative This Holiday Season

Each week I write a political issue that affects YOU and THE WORLD around you.

This week’s political report: Holiday Spending and The Looming Fiscal Showdown


As we move closer and closer to another fiscal showdown (Dec. 13th)—a showdown that will no doubt hurt every struggling American this year—it seems as though that the average American has embraced financial conservatism.  Because this holiday season holidays shoppers have spent an average of $407.20 between last Thursday (Thanksgiving) and Sunday, down 4 percent from the $423.55 they spent last year–a 2.9% reduction from last year’s spending. (Washington Post) What does this mean for you? It means that you are now becoming smarter with your money than the previous year. But it still indicates that our economy is not over the bridge to recovery (from last year’s report) and that Americans are still cautious in spending this holiday season.

After just recovering from an unnerving Government Shutdown, (which the GOP are still struggling from their hit in the favorability polls) Capitol Hill is still in a disarray of how to handle its own budget, when Americans are not. How come? The answer to this question has always been ideology; or difference of opinion.

“Should the working poor, or middle class Americans, shoulder the economic deficit by working more hours and paying more in taxes than the average person from Wall Street? Or should Wall Street or multinational corporations continue to expand by having no government regulations (like not shipping jobs overseas) and paying lower taxes?

The answer is common sense, but having the majority of votes to support that common sense is difficult–and that’s when you get a fiscal showdown.

From an American perspective there should be economic growth in both sectors: public and private sectors. People who want to serve our country by means of public service (being a soldier, police, doctor, firefighter, teacher, bus driver etc.) can have the financial stability to support their families (meaning no sequester cuts). And where people can start a business (with little to no risk) in the private sector, but must give back to their country, through means of American jobs and fair taxes.

As I mentioned before, “I hate taxes!” But I hate it more when people misuse our tax system by paying for lower taxes or jumping through tax loopholes. We should play fair when it comes to taxes–and not have military families or middle class families shoulder the burden by paying more in taxes to fix our economy. To put it simply, in terms of dating.

“When the dinner bill comes to the table, pay it in full–don’t let your date pay for it! And if you do split it, then pay for your fair share!”

I am glad that America is practicing financial conservatism, but if Congress does not pass a legislation on Dec 13th that reflects growth in both sectors (examples: no cuts to dire programs like Social Security etc. or cutting tax loopholes) and support from 90% of middle class families (and not the 10% of wealthy Americans) than Americans may have to shop even lesser than before this holiday season. But trust me when I say that the world will not end if the budget resolution does not pass–I think we survived enough cataclysmic events, for the past two years now, for us to not lose our insanity 🙂

If you are one of those people that must have that plasma television, iPhone, jewelry, laptop, car, flashy toys, games then STOP!! And think before you buy. If you still haven’t paid your electric bill, and you plan to sit in the cold tonight to get the new iPhone or Plasma TV, then STOP Right Now!  Pay for your electricity first! Until we can cut our TRILLION DOLLAR deficit, you still need to think about your costs of living. Interest rates on everything are still up (student loans, mortgages, insurance, credit cards etc.) and will continue to rise, so be smart!

As tempting as it is to buy that latest technology or game console, especially from outside the U.S., still remember to read the label first and invest in American made products. Not only do you want to receive satisfaction in buying a gift for that special someone, but self-confidence too–knowing that your money contributed to our economy. And where can you find the best American Made Products? You can find them in your own community.

Go to your local arts and crafts show and help your small business grow. By going to these events, or small business stores, you will be able to experience America’s greatest pastime: “bargaining.” You will get a chance to meet new people and build new relationships with small business owners.

By shopping at your local small business store you will not only produce savings for yourself and your family, but you will be giving back to our economy which will then help our country grow even more prosperous.

For this Holiday Season, practice financial conservatism and invest in small businesses.


This report was influenced by The Hill and Washington Post.