ACA, also known as Obamacare, Is the Scapegoat

Let me break this down so it can forever be broke:

ACA did not raise the cost of your insurance premium, your insurance company did.

The Affordable Care Act (ACA), more commonly known as Obamacare, made for several provisions:

-Health insurance for those who were previously uninsured or under insured, through the state market places or exchanges (and development of those exchanges) and the expansion of Medicaid in states that chose to do so;

-Children remaining on their parents insurance until age 26;

-Elimination of pre-existing conditions (includes pregnancy, cancer, diabetes, HIV, etc) clauses;

-Prevention-centered care that includes $0 co-pay for well-care visits and annual screenings, and $0 copay for maintenance drugs and birth control. Did your doctor’s office start talking about or advertising ‘patient-centered care’? Thank ACA.

These and the many other provisions of the Care Act cost money. Covering more sick people costs money. So to offset that, the bill did require everyone to have insurance or pay a fine. More younger, healthier people chose to pay the fine than those who chose to get insurance. Healthy people generally would have offset the cost of paying for those older, sicker patients who chose to get insurance. Because that did not happen, insurance companies shifted the cost to the consumer, us, by raising premium costs rather than taking a hit to their billions of dollars profits. It’s the same thing as when our telephone company, AT&T, charges us, the consumer, that FCC charge as opposed to paying it themselves. Now, some of us are fortunate enough to have employers who take on the bulk of the cost for premiums. For example, I pay less than $200/month for my family’s medical insurance. Of course, that is not the case for everyone and the self-employed have that burden to bear alone. People who get their medical insurance through the state exchanges receive federal offsets for their premiums.

So, to sum up, ACA did not raise your medical insurance premium, your insurance company did. How could this have happened? Well, while the public was complaining on social media and around the dinner table about “Obamacare”, the insurance and pharmaceutical companies had their lobbyist speaking to the members of Congress to get their clients’ needs known. Did you call your State and Federal Senators or Representatives to let them know what you wanted to see happen with the ACA before it was passed or did you just go by what you heard and bitch and moan about it to your friends?

This time around, let’s not wait until after the bill is passed to voice our complaints and concerns. This time, let us all be vigilant and email, fax, tweet, DM, and call our representatives and let them know what is important to us. You can believe the insurance and pharmaceutical companies already are.

Of course, this is all a simplification of a very complicated issue so by all means, stay informed. For more reading on ACA, visit http://www.hhs.gov/healthcare/facts-and-features/key-features-of-aca/.

I’m Not Here for Your Excuses

I really hadn’t planned on posting this today. Did you miss me?

After receiving several emails from the child support office, I thought maybe someone had hit the lottery and all was about to be made right. Instead, I logged in today to see that my younger daughter’s father had paid half of his monthly payment. So apparently the emails were a glitch in the system. I clicked over to the screen that shows the amount owed in arrears and he owes a little over $10,000. He seems to only pay when his license is threatened. He’s a gainfully employed corporate IT guy, who buys $300 shoes for our daughter, but asks for an itemized bill before he will pay his half of the out of pocket orthodontic expenses. I guess the braces on her teeth aren’t enough proof. He’s tried the “I need an itemized list of all that she (meaning me) buys/pay for” in court, and the judge set him straight then. Old habits die hard.

I left that screen and clicked over to the other order and saw that Mr. Drake owes $157,702.20 in child support for our two children. Let that roll over in your mind for a while.


$157,702.20 could pay for braces for everyone.

$157,702.20 could have allowed for our son and daughter to participate in all the extra-curricular activities they wanted. It could have also allowed for a tutor when they both had their struggles in math or before they took the ACT or PSAT/SAT.

$157,702.20 could have paid for private school if I so chose to go that route.

$157,702.20 could pay our son’s college tuition. Instead, he’s going to be saddled with student loans, for which I am the co-signer.

Unfortunately, the wonderful lawyer I had retired and most other attorneys want a crazy retainer before they will even look at your case, so I am at the mercy of the state child support office. One would think they are working for the non-custodial parents, related even, or that I was asking the case worker to come out her pocket. Each time I inquired about my case, I received a threat to cancel my case in return. When I first moved to Georgia, I spent a year and half traveling (3 hours one way) back and forth every 3 months to attend a child support hearing that never happened because they failed to serve Mr. Drake. The one time I missed court because I was tired of the foolishness, I was told my case would be closed. So I moved the case to GA and filed with the DA’s office in my county so they could handle the inter-state communication. He moved to North Carolina and I received a letter from the NC office threatening to close the case. When I was able to speak with someone I was told I wasn’t going to get any money anyway because he was on food stamps. My reply: "My kids eat, can I get part of those food stamps?"

Needless to say, I have resigned myself to the child support offices in GA and NC to just being the tally keepers. Every now and then they might send out a letter to them threatening to take their licenses and a letter to me threatening to close my case. Whatever they can do to rid themselves of the problem, with the exception of actively doing their job.

Raising a child, of course, is about much more than money. I have nurtured my children, provided them with all my support, care, and love. I’ve done my best to direct them and help them navigate through life. I’ve sat in emergency rooms until 6 am, nursed sick babies at home and away at school (no matter how old, they' re always my babies), and sat through many a football game as a proud football, band and dance mom. I’ve been a room parent, sat on two PTA boards at the same time and shuffled schedules and children between high school, middle school and elementary school. I’ve done all this and more, with the help of our village, for their benefit simply because I love them and I want to see them be good citizens and succeed in this life.

So to all the men who think paying child support is somehow beneath you or too much of a burden or for the benefit of the mother, grow the fuck up and try putting your children ahead of your of own selfishness for a change.



Addendum:
Yes, I know not all custodial parents are women and in some cases the children live with a guardian and both parents owe child support. I am speaking from my experience. You can share yours in the comments.

I Ain't Ready

I've been writing down my thoughts since Thursday. I've been reading every article, watching every video, and playing my albums/CDs all weekend. Some of my friends are probably rolling their eyes at their FB timeline full of Prince posts by me. My other friends are posting just as many and we're sharing and enjoying each other's memories. Today, I pulled up the laptop and started to right my tribute to Prince. I thought I was ready. I ain't ready. I need a little more time to come to terms and to dissect why this man I never met meant so much to me. All in due time...

Black Women, Responsibility, and HIV Prevention

It is safe to say I am obsessed with all things Formation. I have seen the shows with pundits breaking down the subliminal messages of the video and SBO50 half-time performance, real or imagined, and read the articles that also dissect the messages in the video. I’ve looked into the back story of the clips she used and learned about Messy Mya and watched That B.E.A.T.. By the way, I totally understand why the directors were so upset that so much of their footage made it into her video and took to Twitter to be receive their just credit.

In all of that, the article that hit me at my core was the one written by Ashley Innes and posted on HIV Equal Online. In the article Ms. Innes echoes what I have been saying for years to anyone who will listen: As women, we have to take responsibility for our own sexual health. We cannot lay down that right at the doorstep of the bedroom, and we cannot blame our partners if we are not actively engaged in our protection. We are not victims. We are grown women doing whatever we want, and so we have to be accountable for our choices. Read Ms. Innes’ plea for us to get in Formation here .

Butt Shaming

Now, that I have sobered up from laughing at Kanye West’s twitter beef and the subsequent Amber Rose meme’s, let’s have a discussion about butt shaming.

I understand why Amber Rose had to come for Kanye. When you bring someone’s child into your petty tweets over something you clearly misunderstood, you have to expect to get body slammed by any reasonable person. If Kanye has married his dream girl, why does he keep bringing up Amber Rose anyway? Seems to me that if he were truly over her and their relationship he would wish her well and keep it moving. Instead, he seems to find ways to insult her, unprovoked. But I digress.

Let’s get back to what many saw as the death blow to end Kanye’s rant and force him to delete his tweets. In response to Kanye’s disrespectful remarks about Amber’s and Whiz Khalifa’s child, Amber Rose tweeted:

Awww @kanyewest are u mad I'm not around to play in ur asshole anymore? #FingersInTheBootyAssBitch☝

— Amber Rose (@DaRealAmberRose) January 27, 2016

Lol @kanyewest Now u wanna delete ur tweets cuz Muva has arrived? #TwitterFingers #UrGettingBodiedByAStripperNigga

— Amber Rose (@DaRealAmberRose) January 27, 2016

And then the memes began. I even reposted the tiny, deflated Kanye on Amber Rose’s finger meme. But once I finished laughing, I had to question why was that the ultimate dis and why did we find it funny?

In the rap community, as well as the black community, men who are seen as effeminate or gay have often faced ridicule and even violence. Only recently have any black, male rappers come out as gay or bisexual. It’s still somewhat taboo in an industry that applauds machismo. Jhene Aiko can sing about eating the booty like groceries, but a man, a black man in particular, dare not express his interest, or enjoyment, in being stimulated anally.

But why? Anal play/butt play is nothing to be ashamed of, and can be quite pleasurable for men (and women), whether they are giving or receiving. And yet, it still makes some people anxious and can be used as a weapon to shame, discriminate against, and also to kill.

I have to admit that I have once engaged in this behavior myself. I was upset and felt disrespected and so I lashed out against an ex in much the same way Amber Rose did, although not on social media, it was still in a public format. I felt horrible afterwards and apologized for using against him what had taken place in the privacy of the intimate spaces of our relationship.

I don’t suspect there will be any apologies or forgiving moments between Amber Rose and Kanye West any time soon. And although watching celebs have breakdowns and beat downs on Twitter can be entertaining, we all need to be cognizant of how language (or tweets or memes) can be used to shame. And while it may or may not have any impact on the celebrity, it can make others feel targeted and create a dangerous atmosphere where people are unable to be and express who they are.

Let's Talk - TBT

“Hello.”
“Hey girl. I have a story to tell about the other night.”
“Did you go see him?”
Laughter echoes through the phone.
“Well, talk to me!”

The story begins with the question:

“Why are you here?” I can hear him question me and my intentions. I try to smile and give him my usual flip remark. He leans in closer and again asks, “Why are you here?”

The way he is looking at me; even in the dimness of the candlelit room I can feel the intensity. My thighs are sweating and my heart is pounding. I’m a little nervous about what may come next. Was I too forward, coming over here at this time of night, with such a short dress on, nothing underneath? Have I misread his intentions?

As these thoughts are flowing through my mind, he reaches out, pulls me up from the sofa and turns me around, placing his arms around my waist. This time he whispers in my ear, “Are you here for company or sex?” I can barely reply, “I’m here for both.” He begins to gently kiss the back of my neck. Mmmmm, his lips are so soft. I can feel the butterfly wings fluttering in my stomach. He guides me down the dimly lit hall into his bedroom. Maxwell’s ‘Til the Cops Come Knockin’ has grown faint.

The bedroom is as expected, stylish with contemporary furniture fitting of someone with his taste; and more candles. He leans me across the bed and returns to kissing and licking the back of my neck. A few minutes go by and he steps back and pushes my dress up around my waist to admire my ass. I feel his hands caress my thighs, my cheeks, my swollen lips. And then he’s gone. I am so enthralled that all I can do is continue to grip the sheets in heated anticipation of his return. My patience is soon rewarded as he returns and now positions my right leg on the bed so that he can enter my waiting pussy from behind. I can feel my sugawalls adjust to his thick, latex-covered dick causing me to grip the sheets tighter. The slow, rhythmic motions of his hips and the workings of his fingers on my ass and my clit are driving me crazy. I feel myself about to cum after only a short time of this clitlicious attention. Just then he whispers in my ear, “Let it go”. He nibbles on my earlobe and continues chanting, “Let it go.” And with his coaching I do let go and my body begins to shake uncontrollably. It’s late and I don’t want to disturb his neighbors so I bury my face into the bed so as to stifle my screams of ecstasy. After a few seconds or so, I begin to calm down; I’m not shaking as much, my breath begins to steady. But he wants more. He tells me not to stop as he continues massaging my clit until I am cumming again.

Seconds become minutes, minutes become hours and he only stops long enough to tantalize my feet, my legs, my breasts with his hands, his lips, his tongue. There are moments of laughter, passionate kisses, and silent stares intermingled with the moans and screams of pleasure. I’m pleading with him to stop, but don’t stop, ecstasy; oh, sweet rhapsody. I feel as though I’m suspended between two life planes. Lawd, who is this man that has, in one night, erased months of loneliness and neglect, and calmed the hunger inside that threatened to devour me?

Our bodies have finally come to rest with legs intertwined. Through half-closed eyes I can see the flicker of the candle’s flame, and Maxwell is again singing in the background about making love until the cops come knocking.