If you don't know by now I thoroughly enjoy watching "reality" tv. One of my new reality guilty pleasures is Secret Princes on TLC. The concept of the show is like the classic Eddie Murphy comedy "Coming to America". They have found 4 bachelors of real royal blood (princes or lords) from other countries and dropped them in the middle of Atlanta,GA (they actually live in Midtown), renting a house (without servants) and working "regular" jobs (dog walkers, bus boys, cater waiters) and hitting the dating scene with their true identities hidden with hopes of finding a wife to take home to the royal family. The premise is rather entertaining. To see these bachelors who are used to being waited on hand and foot fumble around the city trying to act "normal" and having to take care of their chores at home (they didn't have a clue as to how to do laundry) is quite comical.
They've gone to various bars around town, speed dating events, dated co-workers and thrown a house party in an effort to meet some nice southern ladies to start a relationship but still keeping the royal titles a secret. But here is where I have a problem...
Since the premiere of the show the looming question leading up to the finale has been will the ladies they start seriously dating turn them down once they reveal their true identities because the guys haven't been totally honest with them....
Let me make sure I have this straight. A girl meets a seemingly average guy. They go out a few times. He treats her nice. She genuinely likes him thus far. After a few weeks she discovers he's not a cater waiter or dog walker, instead he's a PRINCE. As in royalty...crowns, titles, castles, governing body, folks bowing and curtsying. And because of this "lie" of omission and "technical" dishonesty she gets mad and says the relationship is over. THAT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN! NO WAY! NO HOW!
This is the good ol' US of A. We don't have royalty here so being a princess is what most little girls dream of. We love to dress up in crowns and poofy dresses. Then we get older and we run for prom queen or homecoming court or winter princess. That's why "Toddler and Tiaras" is such a hit... girls wanna be princess and those princesses wanna grow up to be queens. Ask any bridal consultant what most brides to be say they want to look and feel like on their wedding day and they'll tell you: A PRINCESS! I don't know of a woman in her right mind who would be so overcome by her moral stance as to break up with a nice guy because she found out he was an actual PRINCE, thus making her a potential princess. If she does she's a fool inside of a fool with the multiple personality of a dingbat and a nincompoop imbecile.
I can't even imagine how that conversation would go:
Prince: I haven't been totally honest with you about who I was... My full name and title is "John Doe, Prince of Country XYZ"
Girlfriend: SAY WHAT?!? I can't believe you've been lying to me all this time. I can't trust you! You told me you were a waiter and you were really a prince. You totally decieved me and down played your wonderful life! HOW COULD YOU?!? I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!
See how ridiculous that sounds.
I'm not saying lying is right, but if you are going to omit some truth about yourself I am a lot more forgiving of someone who lies to tear them self down, than lies to build them self up. Don't lie and say you're a rookie pro-athlete but the reality is you just got appointed captain of your AAU team. Or you just got back from a business trip and your mama was house sitting for you but you really just got out of jail and still live in your mama's basement.
But if you tell me you went to college and leave it at that, but I later find out you're smarter than the guys on Big Bang Theory, I'm cool with that. Or you tell me you work in a restaurant, but you really own a local chain of restaurants. Or you work with contractors, but you're an architect designing half the growing skylines in the south I can work with you. Omitting some characteristics in the name of humility... Ain't nobody mad at that!
"Yeah, I broke up with him because I found out he was even more wonderful than he led me to believe. So I left him to be with the scrub who let me know he was a scrub upfront but if I stay with him ride or die, just as soon as these charges get dropped and he catches up on his child support we'll be on the come up in a few years..." said no one EVER!
I mean what are they expecting them to do at the reveal... Is someone gonna get mad enough to start singing the chorus of "Resentment" by Beyonce ? I know I wouldn't. I mean I'm not a gold digger but Dear Lord: please let me find out one of the boos in my black book is a secret prince and has been testing my loyalty and genuine friendship, I'd break out singing "It's Your Time" by Luther Barnes , remixed with Mary Mary's "Go Get It" !!! THANK YA SUH!!!
Perhaps one day my prince will come... but in the meantime I'll be tuned in Friday to watch the reaction of these lucky broads!!!
Monday, October 15, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Can she hear me now???
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| Grandma and me at our family reunion |
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| Grandma and me on the boardwalk at Virginia Beach |
On our second day vacation we decided to find a mall and once again "the lady" got us to our destination without issue. Since it was a mall we didn't follow the GPS to the very end of the route and my aunt began to drive around the perimeter of the mall parking lot so we could scope out the anchor stores and surrounding shops near the mall. Me and my aunt begin pointing out various stores "Oooh Dillards." "Oh an Old Navy" and grandma says excitedly while pointing "Look... there's a MAXY'S!" We look in the direction she's pointing and my aunt says with a chuckle "Mama... that's MACY'S" and we all began to laugh. (Grandma is known for not quite reading something right, so even when we correct her she laughs at herself just as much as we do.)
I start laughing even harder because she's tickled herself, but then grandma stops laughing and says shamefully "Y'all better hush that fuss before them people hear you!"
My aunt looks at me, and I look at her like "who is she talking about?" I look out the window thinking maybe there was some people in the parking lot or perhaps a car beside us. No one is near us.
So my aunt turns to her and says "Uhhh mama what people?"
Grandma says with all seriousness in a whispery voice..."The lady 'nem" and points to the GPS screen!!!
My aunt and I looked at each other and LOST IT! I mean I hollered even louder. My aunt is trying to explain to her there really isn't a lady talking to us but we can't pull it together. We're laughing so hard that once again grandma starts laughing which only makes me laugh even harder.
And the more I thought about how grandma referred to the GPS as "the lady" and was unusually quiet the whole trip, the funnier it was and the louder I hollered!!!
Later on that evening we finally figured out why she might have been confused a little. The GPS and bluetooth work very similarly so when we call someone they can hear everyone in the car and we're thinking grandma must've thought "the lady" giving the directions could hear us too.
I don't know who the female voice is behind the Dodge GPS systems is but wherever you are in the satellite atmosphere... thank you for the directions and the best laugh I've had in a while!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Job Fair or Sideshow?
After almost 10 months of being unemployed I've yet to hit the lottery or be discovered by a talent scout, so, like most out-of-work people in our country, I am actively looking for work. I scour the job sites, scroll through company web postings for openings and occasionally I hear of a job fair being held near by that I plan on attending. Most job fairs are well publicized so they draw people from all backgrounds looking for various types of employment which can prove to be interesting. The job fair I attended today was no different. It had been advertised in the local paper and was held in the mall atrium so of course it was open to the public.
Now don't get me wrong, I understand that there are people from all walks of life currently looking for employment thus the demographic of people attending these events can vary. I am by no means looking down on anyone but I will say this: You don't get a second chance at a first impression!
I know times and fashions have changed but when you're going to look for employment you should put a little effort into your appearance and behavior. This is not about being superficial, materialistic, or trendy, it's about being decent and in order. It's like when some people hear "fair" they automatically think "circus".
I have compiled a list of things that should never be seen at a job fair or interview*, but I yet I witnessed them today. (and trust me I'm not creative enough to make this stuff up)
Hey...maybe I should start a seminar or organization that stands outside of job fairs with a mirror and tells people to do better! If I can help somebody as a pass along the way...
*Note: This list isn't just for job fairs. Some of these things simply shouldn't happen no matter where you are going.
Now don't get me wrong, I understand that there are people from all walks of life currently looking for employment thus the demographic of people attending these events can vary. I am by no means looking down on anyone but I will say this: You don't get a second chance at a first impression!
I know times and fashions have changed but when you're going to look for employment you should put a little effort into your appearance and behavior. This is not about being superficial, materialistic, or trendy, it's about being decent and in order. It's like when some people hear "fair" they automatically think "circus".
I have compiled a list of things that should never be seen at a job fair or interview*, but I yet I witnessed them today. (and trust me I'm not creative enough to make this stuff up)
- Tattoos are a touchy subject. Some work places are liberal in this area, but please don't show up seeking employment with a sleeveless blouse on if you're tatted from the elbow up to your neck.
- A blouse and slacks is a nice business wear choice, but not when the blouse is one shouldered and certainly not when you're going to wear it with a regular bra thus the strap is showing on the bare shoulder.
- And to add: if you are wearing anything out of order that might show your bra (low back, halter,etc.) make sure the plastic security tag isn't showing on your bra. Note I didn't say price tag. Hard plastic security tag as in "Ma'am did you steal your bra???" (yep... I actually saw this!!!)
- Guys, a dress shirt and slacks can be acceptable, but not a dress shirt with jeans and certainly not jeans with the namebrand (i.e. Rockawear, FUBU, etc.) and stitching in bright purple thread going down the front and back legs.
- Lest it's for a religious purpose, a head scarf or bonnet is not an option!!!
- Sexual preference is none of my business but I do know you can be androgynous and still be appropriate. A nice button up shirt and slacks works much better on a woman than a men's shiny 2 piece club outfit.
- If you and your boo are both out of work, or your boo had to bring you to the job fair cause you didn't have a way there, hand holding, necking and other public displays of affection while greeting the recruiters isn't going to get you hired. The recruiter probably doesn't even want to shake your hand. Ewww!
- Comb your hair. I'm not saying you have to be fresh out of a salon chair, but to look like you rolled out of bed after being chased by Freddy Krueger in your dream isn't a good look either.
- Filling out an application on your homeboy's back... Really though??? Find a table or a clipboard for goodness sake.
- Walking up to a booth and saying "Ayye, what y'all do?" #FAIL
Hey...maybe I should start a seminar or organization that stands outside of job fairs with a mirror and tells people to do better! If I can help somebody as a pass along the way...
*Note: This list isn't just for job fairs. Some of these things simply shouldn't happen no matter where you are going.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Reflections of a Shoe Shopaholic: Back to School!
This weekend I've been involved in the important preparation for my 14yr old niece's first day of high school. She went to her open house on Thursday to see her new school, Friday I took her to the beauty salon to get her hair done and yesterday I went to the mall with her and her dad to get polo shirts in various colors as part of the school dress code and shoes (which are apparently fair game as far as wardrobe goes). We even picked up some funky costume jewels to accessorize her uniform. All this hype about high school made me give some nostalgic commentary on my first day of high school which seemed to be nothing but high comedy to my niece.
Everyone who knows me knows I'm a fashionista and have high maintenance diva tendencies. My hair (real or weave) is always put together. I always have jewels on my neck, ears, fingers and wrist and like most women I LOVE shoes! But this wasn't always the case which is the testimony that took her into a fit of laughter.
We went into store after store looking for...gasp...SNEAKERS!!! Everywhere we went she was spouting off the number of an Air Jordan or Lebron or Griffey. If it wasn't gym shoes it was a hunt for something called a Sperry (which I couldn't tell the difference between the Sperry, or the Highland off brand, but I'm old so who cares). Seriously going to Foot Locker with her and her dad was like going to DSW for me and my sister. She can wear a kid's size sneaker so when we went to these stores she asked for her size they brought it out she tried it on, it fit and she had her pick of shoes everywhere we went. If they didn't have the color we tried another store. After what felt like the hundredth store she found this shoe she wanted in a color choice that we'd been hunting for. Now let me say my niece isn't spoiled but if the waters are stirred and she has her daddy at her beck and call hey why not ask the sales person if they have another shoe she'd been looking for...
And that's when I had some sort of flashback outburst that may need to be worked out in a therapy session. I look at her and ask "Haven't we tried on enough shoes today? I mean how many pairs of sneakers do you need? You could be going to the 9th grade wearing patent leather tie ups or orthopedic shoes!!!" And she laughed like I was joking, but I was apparently venting 22yrs later and was so serious.
I know for a fact I looked a fool mess on my first day of high school, but you couldn't tell me back then. Actually a uniform would've been less shameless. My clothes were homemade but weren't too bad (my grandma could see then and was a great seamstress). I was rockin' the polka dots like Kwame in the 90's but my head and feet were a shameful mess. I had a jheri curl/fro/mullet going on, huge red eyeglasses a la Sally Jesse Raphael and thanks to the trendy one hit wonder Oaktown 357 I was able to wear ESPRIT patent leather tie-ups with satin ribbon laces. "YEAH,YEAH, YEAH! YEAH, YEAH, aww YEAH!" I wore those shoes until there were holes in the soles. They were the first pair of shoes I ever owned that I didn't have to wear with some sort of special insert for my extremely flat and awkward feet. Even in middle school gym class when every one else wore cute white Keds I had an off brand Reebok style high top with velcro around the ankle. Not because it was stylish, but because every other shoe slipped off my narrow heel. My other pairs of shoes were indeed slip on leather orthopedic cafeteria worker type shoes to help my weak arch. Fortunately my personality and big red glasses kept people's focus away from my shoes and I even got compliments on my custom made red and white polka dot pallazo pants.
I finally came into a better sense of style somewhere around winter and by the spring I had been set free from the jheri curl and realized shoes with a heel seemed to fit a little better. My mom bought me my first pair of pink pumps for Easter and there was no turning back.(Now y'all understand my love for a good heel is really a theraputic breakthrough!) I haven't bought a pair of orthopedic shoes since. Well at least not a pair that is recognizable as orthopedic. Easy Spirit as come a long way and I thank God!
Anywhoooo ...I was glad I was confident enough to know I was a nice person and my appearance didn't make or break me in high school. Most girls go through that awkward stage, whether it's braces, head gear, special shoes, bad perms, flat chest or acne, but true beauty shines from the inside out and will blossom into something very special if you stay true to yourself. My friends and classmates liked me for who I am, not what I wore. I still got my lesson (as grandma would say), was in honors classes and I will best be remembered from my high school classmates as a bubbly girl who kept everyone laughing (and I still hold my title of "Best Sense of Humor c/o 1994 dear to my heart). And what really matters is that you still don't look a mess at your 10yr reunion cause then there may be cause for an intervention and an extreme makeover.
Everyone who knows me knows I'm a fashionista and have high maintenance diva tendencies. My hair (real or weave) is always put together. I always have jewels on my neck, ears, fingers and wrist and like most women I LOVE shoes! But this wasn't always the case which is the testimony that took her into a fit of laughter.
We went into store after store looking for...gasp...SNEAKERS!!! Everywhere we went she was spouting off the number of an Air Jordan or Lebron or Griffey. If it wasn't gym shoes it was a hunt for something called a Sperry (which I couldn't tell the difference between the Sperry, or the Highland off brand, but I'm old so who cares). Seriously going to Foot Locker with her and her dad was like going to DSW for me and my sister. She can wear a kid's size sneaker so when we went to these stores she asked for her size they brought it out she tried it on, it fit and she had her pick of shoes everywhere we went. If they didn't have the color we tried another store. After what felt like the hundredth store she found this shoe she wanted in a color choice that we'd been hunting for. Now let me say my niece isn't spoiled but if the waters are stirred and she has her daddy at her beck and call hey why not ask the sales person if they have another shoe she'd been looking for...
And that's when I had some sort of flashback outburst that may need to be worked out in a therapy session. I look at her and ask "Haven't we tried on enough shoes today? I mean how many pairs of sneakers do you need? You could be going to the 9th grade wearing patent leather tie ups or orthopedic shoes!!!" And she laughed like I was joking, but I was apparently venting 22yrs later and was so serious.
I know for a fact I looked a fool mess on my first day of high school, but you couldn't tell me back then. Actually a uniform would've been less shameless. My clothes were homemade but weren't too bad (my grandma could see then and was a great seamstress). I was rockin' the polka dots like Kwame in the 90's but my head and feet were a shameful mess. I had a jheri curl/fro/mullet going on, huge red eyeglasses a la Sally Jesse Raphael and thanks to the trendy one hit wonder Oaktown 357 I was able to wear ESPRIT patent leather tie-ups with satin ribbon laces. "YEAH,YEAH, YEAH! YEAH, YEAH, aww YEAH!" I wore those shoes until there were holes in the soles. They were the first pair of shoes I ever owned that I didn't have to wear with some sort of special insert for my extremely flat and awkward feet. Even in middle school gym class when every one else wore cute white Keds I had an off brand Reebok style high top with velcro around the ankle. Not because it was stylish, but because every other shoe slipped off my narrow heel. My other pairs of shoes were indeed slip on leather orthopedic cafeteria worker type shoes to help my weak arch. Fortunately my personality and big red glasses kept people's focus away from my shoes and I even got compliments on my custom made red and white polka dot pallazo pants.
I finally came into a better sense of style somewhere around winter and by the spring I had been set free from the jheri curl and realized shoes with a heel seemed to fit a little better. My mom bought me my first pair of pink pumps for Easter and there was no turning back.(Now y'all understand my love for a good heel is really a theraputic breakthrough!) I haven't bought a pair of orthopedic shoes since. Well at least not a pair that is recognizable as orthopedic. Easy Spirit as come a long way and I thank God!
Anywhoooo ...I was glad I was confident enough to know I was a nice person and my appearance didn't make or break me in high school. Most girls go through that awkward stage, whether it's braces, head gear, special shoes, bad perms, flat chest or acne, but true beauty shines from the inside out and will blossom into something very special if you stay true to yourself. My friends and classmates liked me for who I am, not what I wore. I still got my lesson (as grandma would say), was in honors classes and I will best be remembered from my high school classmates as a bubbly girl who kept everyone laughing (and I still hold my title of "Best Sense of Humor c/o 1994 dear to my heart). And what really matters is that you still don't look a mess at your 10yr reunion cause then there may be cause for an intervention and an extreme makeover.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
TLC??? Honey Boo-Boo makes me wanna boo-hoo
I remember when I was in college back in the late 1990's my friends and I would rush home from class to watch A Baby Story and A Wedding Story every weekday afternoon. In the mornings the same station showed wonderful shows on fitness and nutrition; in the evenings they aired fascinating programs about nature, the human body and other scientific phenomena. The Learning Channel (TLC for short) made us feel a little better about watching TV when we probably should've been somewhere studying.
But if someone had told me 15yrs later this same channel (which still has the call letters TLC) would be home to such shows as Toddlers and Tiaras (inside the world of hotel ballroom kid pageants and pageant parents), My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding (the gypsy subculture has the most outrageous weddings and events. BLING!), Extreme Couponing (these people clear out grocery stores for like 10 dollars after multiplying then subtracting tons of coupons. And I will admit its kind of amazing) but tonight topped them all with the premiere of Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo!
Now I consider myself somewhat of an expert on pop-culture so when it comes to these reality shows I'm not ashamed to say I watch a lot of them if for no other reason but because it may come up on a big screen electronic trivia game at a bar one night and might help me get my wing basket on the house, but I digress... That being said, I was familiar with little miss Alana and Mama June from both Toddlers and Tiaras as well as Extreme Couponing, but nothing could've prepared me for the display I saw tonight. I've heard this 6yr old pageant contestant drawl her catch phrase "A dolla makes me holla Honey Boo-Boo!" and "You betta redneckognize!" (instead of recognize) on the previous shows and the commercials so I wasn't expecting Emmy award quality TV by any means. Based on the commercials with her sisters arguing "We are not rednecks" with her parents, I was hoping the show wouldn't fuel the ignorant southerner stereotype, but unfortunately that's not the case.
I literally sat with my mouth dropped open as I watched back-to-back episodes of this family from Georgia somewhere near Macon as they participated in the "Redneck Games" (which involved such events as bobbing for raw pig feet and belly flopping in the mud), the mom making a (possible) joking reference to scratching the "bugs" in her hair, farting contest as part of losing weight, a pet pig as a consolation prize to losing a beauty pageant for Honey Boo-Boo, and the entire family (including the 6yr old) accompanying the eldest daughter (age 17) to her OB/GYN ultrasound for her soon to arrive child. They even let Honey Boo-Boo put the ultrasound jelly on her sister's belly and... wait for it... HBB even put some jelly on her stomach and asked the med-tech could she see the chicken nuggets she'd eaten earlier that day. The med-tech happily obliged.
I had said earlier today Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo would culturally balance out the shame of shows like Love & Hip-Hop ATL and The Real Housewives of Atlanta, but after watching tonight there is a greater level of deep seeded concern for Little Miss Alana and the rest of the "Boo-Boo" family. LHHATL and RHOA are "reality" shows that are often scripted, twisted and edited to highten the drama and shenanigans. Sadly this is not the case on Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo. The southern accent and dialect is so thick they had subtitles for most of the cast commentary. You can't script or set up a redneck festival complete with a mudhole and Confederate flag decorations in the middle of nowhere. Allow me to paraphrase the gospel great Shirley Caesar "Naw...Honey Boo-Boo ain't playin' this time". NOPE these shenanigans are real and raw bringing shame to whatever school district is closest to the city of production. How in the world does a channel that used to stand for "The Learning Channel" feel like airing this is ok? Unless this is a terrible trick and a zenith comes at the end of the season highlighting Honey Boo-Boo, her sisters, along with her parents being tutored and participating in honors ceremonies I guess I'll continue to watch with entertaining disbelief.
TLC the only thing I've learned from watching this show is a new meaning for "biscuit", but I'll be tuned in next week for sure!
But if someone had told me 15yrs later this same channel (which still has the call letters TLC) would be home to such shows as Toddlers and Tiaras (inside the world of hotel ballroom kid pageants and pageant parents), My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding (the gypsy subculture has the most outrageous weddings and events. BLING!), Extreme Couponing (these people clear out grocery stores for like 10 dollars after multiplying then subtracting tons of coupons. And I will admit its kind of amazing) but tonight topped them all with the premiere of Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo!
Now I consider myself somewhat of an expert on pop-culture so when it comes to these reality shows I'm not ashamed to say I watch a lot of them if for no other reason but because it may come up on a big screen electronic trivia game at a bar one night and might help me get my wing basket on the house, but I digress... That being said, I was familiar with little miss Alana and Mama June from both Toddlers and Tiaras as well as Extreme Couponing, but nothing could've prepared me for the display I saw tonight. I've heard this 6yr old pageant contestant drawl her catch phrase "A dolla makes me holla Honey Boo-Boo!" and "You betta redneckognize!" (instead of recognize) on the previous shows and the commercials so I wasn't expecting Emmy award quality TV by any means. Based on the commercials with her sisters arguing "We are not rednecks" with her parents, I was hoping the show wouldn't fuel the ignorant southerner stereotype, but unfortunately that's not the case.
I literally sat with my mouth dropped open as I watched back-to-back episodes of this family from Georgia somewhere near Macon as they participated in the "Redneck Games" (which involved such events as bobbing for raw pig feet and belly flopping in the mud), the mom making a (possible) joking reference to scratching the "bugs" in her hair, farting contest as part of losing weight, a pet pig as a consolation prize to losing a beauty pageant for Honey Boo-Boo, and the entire family (including the 6yr old) accompanying the eldest daughter (age 17) to her OB/GYN ultrasound for her soon to arrive child. They even let Honey Boo-Boo put the ultrasound jelly on her sister's belly and... wait for it... HBB even put some jelly on her stomach and asked the med-tech could she see the chicken nuggets she'd eaten earlier that day. The med-tech happily obliged.
I had said earlier today Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo would culturally balance out the shame of shows like Love & Hip-Hop ATL and The Real Housewives of Atlanta, but after watching tonight there is a greater level of deep seeded concern for Little Miss Alana and the rest of the "Boo-Boo" family. LHHATL and RHOA are "reality" shows that are often scripted, twisted and edited to highten the drama and shenanigans. Sadly this is not the case on Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo. The southern accent and dialect is so thick they had subtitles for most of the cast commentary. You can't script or set up a redneck festival complete with a mudhole and Confederate flag decorations in the middle of nowhere. Allow me to paraphrase the gospel great Shirley Caesar "Naw...Honey Boo-Boo ain't playin' this time". NOPE these shenanigans are real and raw bringing shame to whatever school district is closest to the city of production. How in the world does a channel that used to stand for "The Learning Channel" feel like airing this is ok? Unless this is a terrible trick and a zenith comes at the end of the season highlighting Honey Boo-Boo, her sisters, along with her parents being tutored and participating in honors ceremonies I guess I'll continue to watch with entertaining disbelief.
TLC the only thing I've learned from watching this show is a new meaning for "biscuit", but I'll be tuned in next week for sure!
Monday, August 6, 2012
To ATL and Back: A wrinkle in time
It's been about a month and a half since I posted anything because honestly I didn't really have anything lengthy to write about that would go with the theme of this blog. I mean my situation hasn't changed much and I've been in somewhat of a funk for the past few weeks or so.
I debated on whether or not to even blog concerning the thoughts that are in my head, but after reading a fellow blogger/cousin's transparent post I felt maybe this would help someone too. (Thanks LaWanda)
Over the last couple of days I've been reminiscing about when I first moved to Atlanta and how I ended up on such a journey. I moved to "Hotlanta" on August 3, 2002. Of course I didn't just get in my car one day and leave, but I do believe it was a spirit led desire and decision from the beginning. God told me where to apply for a job, a few months later I got that job, they told me to come the next week.(I didn't even have time to give myself a fabulous going away party). I got my hair done that Friday ( I wasn't going to start a new job looking a mess), filled my car with gas and that Saturday (with 18 dollars to my name) I left North Carolina with Georgia on my mind. I cried most of the way down I-85 because I was overcome with sadness and fear. But when I got to what I now know is Gwinnett County scanning for a radio station (not realizing how close I was) and the radio stopped on V-103. I'll never forget the first songs I heard as I approached Spaghetti Junction and could see downtown in the distance... Pastor Troy's "Are We Cuttin" and "Welcome to Atlanta (the remix)... and my eyes began to fill with tears, but this time of joy and relief because I had made it. I had no friends or family there; all I had was the faith that this is where God wanted me to be.
So here I sit 10 years later back in North Carolina reflecting over that time in my life and how much I've grown. I discovered so much about myself, about people and above all about who God is. I can't say I didn't make some mistakes but God has always been faithful. That's what I keep reminding myself. God has not changed! I'm not the same young naive lady I was at 25, and even though I'm a little older and wiser doesn't mean I don't still get scared and have my doubts. I may not ever move back to Atlanta and I don't know where God may lead me next but one thing's for certain but the same way God heard my prayers and ordered my steps then, He can and will do it again!
(Let me say this was very difficult to write, but very therapeutic. I'm pretty sure it didn't make you laugh much, but I hope it encouraged you to keep the faith! I'll be funny again in a few days.)
I debated on whether or not to even blog concerning the thoughts that are in my head, but after reading a fellow blogger/cousin's transparent post I felt maybe this would help someone too. (Thanks LaWanda)
Over the last couple of days I've been reminiscing about when I first moved to Atlanta and how I ended up on such a journey. I moved to "Hotlanta" on August 3, 2002. Of course I didn't just get in my car one day and leave, but I do believe it was a spirit led desire and decision from the beginning. God told me where to apply for a job, a few months later I got that job, they told me to come the next week.(I didn't even have time to give myself a fabulous going away party). I got my hair done that Friday ( I wasn't going to start a new job looking a mess), filled my car with gas and that Saturday (with 18 dollars to my name) I left North Carolina with Georgia on my mind. I cried most of the way down I-85 because I was overcome with sadness and fear. But when I got to what I now know is Gwinnett County scanning for a radio station (not realizing how close I was) and the radio stopped on V-103. I'll never forget the first songs I heard as I approached Spaghetti Junction and could see downtown in the distance... Pastor Troy's "Are We Cuttin" and "Welcome to Atlanta (the remix)... and my eyes began to fill with tears, but this time of joy and relief because I had made it. I had no friends or family there; all I had was the faith that this is where God wanted me to be.
So here I sit 10 years later back in North Carolina reflecting over that time in my life and how much I've grown. I discovered so much about myself, about people and above all about who God is. I can't say I didn't make some mistakes but God has always been faithful. That's what I keep reminding myself. God has not changed! I'm not the same young naive lady I was at 25, and even though I'm a little older and wiser doesn't mean I don't still get scared and have my doubts. I may not ever move back to Atlanta and I don't know where God may lead me next but one thing's for certain but the same way God heard my prayers and ordered my steps then, He can and will do it again!
(Let me say this was very difficult to write, but very therapeutic. I'm pretty sure it didn't make you laugh much, but I hope it encouraged you to keep the faith! I'll be funny again in a few days.)
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Daddy's Home...
Tomorrow is Father's Day and my efforts to find a decent card for my dad have been exhausting. We won't even talk about how many stores I went to before I saw a card that said "Brother", and to find one that said Brother-in-Law was almost a dummy mission, but I did manage to find one in a locally owned bootleg dollar tree-type store. All of them are really great fathers who deserve honor where it is due.
But here's what's troubling me. I've seen people on social media sites saying no one cares about Father's Day or they didn't even realize Father's Day was coming up. Retailers have put forth some effort to place a nice older gentleman in a golfing outfit on the front of their sales adds, but certainly not the same hoopla we heard about Mother's Day. This got me to thinking: why isn't Father's Day celebrated with the same sincerity.
I realize that in today's society there are a lot more children growing up in homes without fathers for various reasons. Some chose to abandoned their kids, some don't even know the child exist, maybe it's the mother keeping him away (yeah, women can be some vindictive bitties sometimes), and their are lots of children who's father's are now angels watching over them... I don't know all the circumstances behind absentee fathers but what I do know is this isn't every one's testimony.
I am unapologetically a daddy's girl! Yes... I LOVE MY DADDY! He's an old-school manly man so he doesn't say a lot of mushy stuff and his way of expressing his love for me is to check the oil in my car and the pressure in my tires before I get on the road. I can't recall one night my daddy didn't come home to his 3 kids. I don't even think my daddy has spent the night in a hospital away from us. As a matter of fact, for many years he was the face that greeted me at the end of the day at nursery school. I loved riding with daddy in his pick-up truck because he listened to R&B music (Mom listened to gospel on the AM station. I had balance even as a kid.) He taught me to ride a bike, put up with my violin practice and was one of my biggest (yet surprised) fans when I started singing. He even went with me to my after-prom party junior year because my mom insisted he chaperoned. He sat there all night til 4am with the other parents and acted like he didn't know me. (We were both so through with mama that night, but I did end up having a good time.)
When I left for college, and dropped out and went back and dropped out and went back and finished, daddy never expressed his disappointment and moved all of my clothes and shoes without ever murmuring a complaint. He helped me move into my first apartment and was the first person to cross the threshold. "This ain't bad. I mean since it's free (I was a resident director) yeah... this is nice!"
And when I made the decision to move to Atlanta, it became to real to him on the day I left. He couldn't look me in the eye, but he said "I don't know why you're leaving, but be careful." and walked out the room. But when I came back to visit after a month and had survived he made sure to tell everyone at his high school reunion and family reunion "Yeah, you know my daughter lives in Atlanta now." I, along with my siblings and his grandkids, am my dad's pride and joy.
I have not one bad thing to say about my "da" (that's what we call him). I tell people all the time I got the dramatic personality from my mom, but the truth of the matter is the characteristics I got from my daddy balance me out. I am the perfect blend of the two.
I said all that to say all of this... it is not my fault that you didn't grow up with a dad, but for those of us who did, stop trying to rain on our Father's Day parade. I know a lot of people who share similar stories like mine, both guys and girls, who were fortunate enough to share a good relationship with their fathers. I'm grateful to still have my daddy and I know for a fact there are some people who wish their dad was still here on earth to celebrate with, so my heart goes out to them as well.
If you don't do for your dad or don't like him that's your business. I'm praying for God to heal your brokenness, but as for me and my siblings we'll be enjoying steaks (like we often do on Sundays) grilled with much love by our dear old dad!
Happy Father's Day to all the dad's out there!
But here's what's troubling me. I've seen people on social media sites saying no one cares about Father's Day or they didn't even realize Father's Day was coming up. Retailers have put forth some effort to place a nice older gentleman in a golfing outfit on the front of their sales adds, but certainly not the same hoopla we heard about Mother's Day. This got me to thinking: why isn't Father's Day celebrated with the same sincerity.
I realize that in today's society there are a lot more children growing up in homes without fathers for various reasons. Some chose to abandoned their kids, some don't even know the child exist, maybe it's the mother keeping him away (yeah, women can be some vindictive bitties sometimes), and their are lots of children who's father's are now angels watching over them... I don't know all the circumstances behind absentee fathers but what I do know is this isn't every one's testimony.
I am unapologetically a daddy's girl! Yes... I LOVE MY DADDY! He's an old-school manly man so he doesn't say a lot of mushy stuff and his way of expressing his love for me is to check the oil in my car and the pressure in my tires before I get on the road. I can't recall one night my daddy didn't come home to his 3 kids. I don't even think my daddy has spent the night in a hospital away from us. As a matter of fact, for many years he was the face that greeted me at the end of the day at nursery school. I loved riding with daddy in his pick-up truck because he listened to R&B music (Mom listened to gospel on the AM station. I had balance even as a kid.) He taught me to ride a bike, put up with my violin practice and was one of my biggest (yet surprised) fans when I started singing. He even went with me to my after-prom party junior year because my mom insisted he chaperoned. He sat there all night til 4am with the other parents and acted like he didn't know me. (We were both so through with mama that night, but I did end up having a good time.)
When I left for college, and dropped out and went back and dropped out and went back and finished, daddy never expressed his disappointment and moved all of my clothes and shoes without ever murmuring a complaint. He helped me move into my first apartment and was the first person to cross the threshold. "This ain't bad. I mean since it's free (I was a resident director) yeah... this is nice!"
And when I made the decision to move to Atlanta, it became to real to him on the day I left. He couldn't look me in the eye, but he said "I don't know why you're leaving, but be careful." and walked out the room. But when I came back to visit after a month and had survived he made sure to tell everyone at his high school reunion and family reunion "Yeah, you know my daughter lives in Atlanta now." I, along with my siblings and his grandkids, am my dad's pride and joy.
I have not one bad thing to say about my "da" (that's what we call him). I tell people all the time I got the dramatic personality from my mom, but the truth of the matter is the characteristics I got from my daddy balance me out. I am the perfect blend of the two.
I said all that to say all of this... it is not my fault that you didn't grow up with a dad, but for those of us who did, stop trying to rain on our Father's Day parade. I know a lot of people who share similar stories like mine, both guys and girls, who were fortunate enough to share a good relationship with their fathers. I'm grateful to still have my daddy and I know for a fact there are some people who wish their dad was still here on earth to celebrate with, so my heart goes out to them as well.
If you don't do for your dad or don't like him that's your business. I'm praying for God to heal your brokenness, but as for me and my siblings we'll be enjoying steaks (like we often do on Sundays) grilled with much love by our dear old dad!
Happy Father's Day to all the dad's out there!
Monday, June 11, 2012
Bite me!?!
Once again I must give my commentary on something that has been in the news recently and has the people all a buzz... the zombie attacks!
Like most of us who have heard about these face bitings, flinging of one's own intestines and other odd issues of the flesh, my first thought was "You know the media will make a big deal out of anything", then I thought... "But hype or no hype, that's crazy!!!" As the stories continued to surface from various places I then thought "Oooh Jesus! That's an end time mess!"
But then it hit me... I saw all these post about the excitement surrounding the new season of True Blood, and a preview for the Abraham Lincoln as vampire slayer movie, and there's a new commercial for featuring the Twilight guys. One of the biggest fads in pop culture today is the vicarious lifestyle of vampires and other people biting people. Now I can't say I'm totally familiar with this sect of fiction and film. The last vampire movies I saw were "Vampire in Brooklyn" and "Dracula: Dead and Loving it!" (both of which are your sho'nuff laugh!!!). I've never read or seen anything Twilight related, can barely tell you what channel True Blood comes on, and Vampire Diaries films in the metro ATL area, otherwise I would be clueless to that series too.
So with all this seemingly sexy neck biting being glorified in mainstream fiction, film and tv, why are we so appalled that people are biting people???
They are linking this "zombie apocalypse" to the possible abuse of "bath salts" (which has me scratching my head in confusion all by itself!), but clearly we should know by now after watching all these reality shows on cable which broadcast the "weird" lives and habits of people for all the world to see, that there are quite a few people in the world, and certainly in our very own country who simply aren't wrapped tight, yet they are perfectly ok with their warped sense of normalcy. If these people were willing to get high on bath salts, then of course taking their vampire or other sci-fi fantasy from the inside of their head and acting it out in reality felt right to them at the time.
Everybody has that little bit of crazy when it comes to things they enjoy... I mean who am I to talk. I have to have tissue and almost need ushers when I go to romantic-comedies because in the back of my mind I'm screaming "WHY HASN'T THIS HAPPENED FOR ME YET???" (I'm just serious!!!)
Hopefully the next pop-culture sweep will involve nerd intellect bio-genetic engineering for incurable disease or economic strategic planning. That way when someone brings their obsession from their mind into reality it will seem less creepy and create a solution to some of the real problems we have in this country.
Anywho... zombies or no zombies, like the old folk say "It's a praying time!!!"
Like most of us who have heard about these face bitings, flinging of one's own intestines and other odd issues of the flesh, my first thought was "You know the media will make a big deal out of anything", then I thought... "But hype or no hype, that's crazy!!!" As the stories continued to surface from various places I then thought "Oooh Jesus! That's an end time mess!"
But then it hit me... I saw all these post about the excitement surrounding the new season of True Blood, and a preview for the Abraham Lincoln as vampire slayer movie, and there's a new commercial for featuring the Twilight guys. One of the biggest fads in pop culture today is the vicarious lifestyle of vampires and other people biting people. Now I can't say I'm totally familiar with this sect of fiction and film. The last vampire movies I saw were "Vampire in Brooklyn" and "Dracula: Dead and Loving it!" (both of which are your sho'nuff laugh!!!). I've never read or seen anything Twilight related, can barely tell you what channel True Blood comes on, and Vampire Diaries films in the metro ATL area, otherwise I would be clueless to that series too.
So with all this seemingly sexy neck biting being glorified in mainstream fiction, film and tv, why are we so appalled that people are biting people???
They are linking this "zombie apocalypse" to the possible abuse of "bath salts" (which has me scratching my head in confusion all by itself!), but clearly we should know by now after watching all these reality shows on cable which broadcast the "weird" lives and habits of people for all the world to see, that there are quite a few people in the world, and certainly in our very own country who simply aren't wrapped tight, yet they are perfectly ok with their warped sense of normalcy. If these people were willing to get high on bath salts, then of course taking their vampire or other sci-fi fantasy from the inside of their head and acting it out in reality felt right to them at the time.
Everybody has that little bit of crazy when it comes to things they enjoy... I mean who am I to talk. I have to have tissue and almost need ushers when I go to romantic-comedies because in the back of my mind I'm screaming "WHY HASN'T THIS HAPPENED FOR ME YET???" (I'm just serious!!!)
Hopefully the next pop-culture sweep will involve nerd intellect bio-genetic engineering for incurable disease or economic strategic planning. That way when someone brings their obsession from their mind into reality it will seem less creepy and create a solution to some of the real problems we have in this country.
Anywho... zombies or no zombies, like the old folk say "It's a praying time!!!"
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Word Power: Shut up or just shoot me!
Proverbs 18:20-22
Easy-to-Read Version (ERV)
20 Your words can be as satisfying as fruit, as pleasing as the food that fills your stomach.
21 The tongue can speak words that bring life or death. Those who love to talk must be ready to accept what it brings.
I was watching Dr. Phil today and he told a parent "It takes a thousand 'Atta boys' to erase one 'You're an idiot. You're worthless. You're no good." and for some reason this really struck a nerve with me.
I guess over the past few months I've paid really close attention to what I let people say to me and around me, especially those closest to me. It's bad enough to have to deal with the reality of losing a job, being suddenly uprooted from the place I called home for 9yrs, the rejection of not finding another job yet...It's amazing to me how people just say anything to me like it's right without having a positive counterpoint. I'm not saying people shouldn't ask out of concern and offering constructive criticism is always welcomed, but "Dang... you still looking for a job? What's wrong with you?" or questioning my interview wardrobe is not the way. And certainly reminding me that I'm single and childless and living with my parents shouldn't come up... like EVER! Don't come for me like that. So when someone wants to focus on the other obvious societal negatives instead of encouraging me, allow me to quote the great You Tube sensation, Sweet Brown: "Ain't nobody got time for dat!"
But enough about that... I think the real reason I was so intrigued when Dr. Phil said this was conviction. What kind of seeds have I been sowing with what I say? We often quote the scripture above in a selfish manner. We're quick to "Name and claim" something we want for ourselves, or "Speak healing and life" over our own sickness, but how often do we kill someones dreams because to us it looks and sounds crazy and impossible, or you have a mild headache and the next thing you know some Debbie Downer is telling some foolishness of how they new someone who had a small headache that turned out to be a brain tumor stroke before you can reach for an aspirin...SAY WHAT???
I know I talk a lot and some would say I'm very opinionated, but here lately I've been paying very close attention to what I say about certain things. Both of my nieces and nephew seem to hang on to my every word when they're around me so I want to make sure what I say to them and around them is full of positive energy, and if I find myself talking otherwise I'm quick to attempt to explain what I said wasn't the best thing to say. But this doesn't apply to just impressionable young kids, or encouraging yourselves, but as adults we should be surrounding each other with nothing but good things and if something difficult needs to be discussed then try to find a way to season it with grace. Stop dogging out your man, start telling your lady she's beautiful, let your co-workers know they did a nice job, tell the cashier "thanks" if they were helpful... Like Mary Poppins said "Just a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down".
Our everyday relationships should be full of optimism. Being over critical and talking to people any kind of way isn't a good look for anyone. Continuing to say anything to one another without thinking about how it will effect the person's spirit is just as harmful as a physically violent act.
Let's build each other up... remember if you don't have anything nice to say don't say it at all.
I'mma do better for myself and for others.
21 The tongue can speak words that bring life or death. Those who love to talk must be ready to accept what it brings.
I was watching Dr. Phil today and he told a parent "It takes a thousand 'Atta boys' to erase one 'You're an idiot. You're worthless. You're no good." and for some reason this really struck a nerve with me.
I guess over the past few months I've paid really close attention to what I let people say to me and around me, especially those closest to me. It's bad enough to have to deal with the reality of losing a job, being suddenly uprooted from the place I called home for 9yrs, the rejection of not finding another job yet...It's amazing to me how people just say anything to me like it's right without having a positive counterpoint. I'm not saying people shouldn't ask out of concern and offering constructive criticism is always welcomed, but "Dang... you still looking for a job? What's wrong with you?" or questioning my interview wardrobe is not the way. And certainly reminding me that I'm single and childless and living with my parents shouldn't come up... like EVER! Don't come for me like that. So when someone wants to focus on the other obvious societal negatives instead of encouraging me, allow me to quote the great You Tube sensation, Sweet Brown: "Ain't nobody got time for dat!"
But enough about that... I think the real reason I was so intrigued when Dr. Phil said this was conviction. What kind of seeds have I been sowing with what I say? We often quote the scripture above in a selfish manner. We're quick to "Name and claim" something we want for ourselves, or "Speak healing and life" over our own sickness, but how often do we kill someones dreams because to us it looks and sounds crazy and impossible, or you have a mild headache and the next thing you know some Debbie Downer is telling some foolishness of how they new someone who had a small headache that turned out to be a brain tumor stroke before you can reach for an aspirin...SAY WHAT???
I know I talk a lot and some would say I'm very opinionated, but here lately I've been paying very close attention to what I say about certain things. Both of my nieces and nephew seem to hang on to my every word when they're around me so I want to make sure what I say to them and around them is full of positive energy, and if I find myself talking otherwise I'm quick to attempt to explain what I said wasn't the best thing to say. But this doesn't apply to just impressionable young kids, or encouraging yourselves, but as adults we should be surrounding each other with nothing but good things and if something difficult needs to be discussed then try to find a way to season it with grace. Stop dogging out your man, start telling your lady she's beautiful, let your co-workers know they did a nice job, tell the cashier "thanks" if they were helpful... Like Mary Poppins said "Just a spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down".
Our everyday relationships should be full of optimism. Being over critical and talking to people any kind of way isn't a good look for anyone. Continuing to say anything to one another without thinking about how it will effect the person's spirit is just as harmful as a physically violent act.
Let's build each other up... remember if you don't have anything nice to say don't say it at all.
I'mma do better for myself and for others.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
A night cap... have you no shame?
I know it's been awhile since I've posted on my blog and honestly this wasn't the first topic I thought about writing on, but as I was sitting here preparing my evening lounge wear, a sadness came over me about a certain fashion fad that I've seen far too often to keep silent about any longer...
Since when did it become acceptable to wear nighttime wear as daytime attire???
I've noticed over the past year or so a growing amount of young ladies wearing pajama pants, shorts, and slippers while they were out and about. Initially this didn't really faze me because I worked at a predominately white all women's college several years ago and in the confines of this high security campus, pajamas and bedroom slippers were the norm. I, too, in my younger college days had been known to sneak to the grocery store or Walmart in the wee hours of the morning for snacks and the like in a nice pair of pj pants or sweats and a sleep shirt. Even as I noticed this trend growing, I noticed the design of sleepwear conforming to more of lounge wear which could possibly pass for workout gear or something to run out of the house and grab a dozen eggs in a pinch. Even when I'm sitting around the house chilling there is a 95% chance that I'm going to have on a matching outfit from head to toe. If I have on an NC State shirt, I have black, gray, or red/white pants, and NC State flip-flops or slippers. (ask any of my friends who have just come over to watch a movie, even my scarf matches if my hair is wrapped cause I like to coordinate).
And I'm not being overly old school because when I was a teenager we had our share of ridiculous looking fads. Wearing clothes backwards and/ or inside out really wasn't a bright idea, but it was a trend that worked and at least it was regular clothes and we wore our hats to the back...
Notice I said HATS!!! Not velcro wraps or night bonnets. This is really the crux of my crusade. Ladies hear me when I say this:
THERE IS NEVER A TIME WHEN I SHOULD SEE A SATIN BONNET/CAP OUTSIDE OF YOUR HOME!!! *
I can't take it. True story, we were in church on Sunday and the lady sitting in front of me had on a daggum satin cap on a Sunday morning. (yes, I have the picture to prove it) and I almost couldn't concentrate cause I kept thinking "WHAT THE HAM SANDWICH WERE YOU THINKING???"
Now don't get me wrong, no one is more of an advocate for bending the tradition of "dressing up" for church, but that's taking "come as you are" too far.
Yes, that was an extreme case of being out of order, but whenever I see someone donning their satin night cap it makes me question your hygienic practices before you left the house. There is no way on God's green earth that you looked in the mirror with a black satin bonnet on your head and thought "Yep... did it on 'em!" And I have seen ladies fully dressed, labels and stillettos with a dang blame satin bonnet on. I don't care if you are Prada from neck to foot, when I see that cap, what I think when I see you is "Did you shower, brush your teeth, even wash your face or at least take a "hoe bath"???
Now granted I am a very girly girl who still gets fussed at by my mom and grandma's if I don't have on pantyhose in church or if my skirt hits my knee so I understand there are some fashion rules that are meant to be broken. I also realize people (both men and women) choose to express themselves through quirky fashion, but this must stop! You're setting both blacks and women back about 100yrs. I don't want to see you voting at the poles, on the front (or back) of a bus or retail establishment in a satin cap as a hat. If you're reading this and are guilty, free yourself today. If you have a sistah girl who is guilty, a true act of love would be to intervene. Get her a scarf, wig, lace prayer hat, turban...anything.
I'd rather see an unkempt head than that d@#* satin cap!
*The only time this is even possibly acceptable is if you are ill and in an abulance or emergency room. But you'd better be real sick!
Since when did it become acceptable to wear nighttime wear as daytime attire???
I've noticed over the past year or so a growing amount of young ladies wearing pajama pants, shorts, and slippers while they were out and about. Initially this didn't really faze me because I worked at a predominately white all women's college several years ago and in the confines of this high security campus, pajamas and bedroom slippers were the norm. I, too, in my younger college days had been known to sneak to the grocery store or Walmart in the wee hours of the morning for snacks and the like in a nice pair of pj pants or sweats and a sleep shirt. Even as I noticed this trend growing, I noticed the design of sleepwear conforming to more of lounge wear which could possibly pass for workout gear or something to run out of the house and grab a dozen eggs in a pinch. Even when I'm sitting around the house chilling there is a 95% chance that I'm going to have on a matching outfit from head to toe. If I have on an NC State shirt, I have black, gray, or red/white pants, and NC State flip-flops or slippers. (ask any of my friends who have just come over to watch a movie, even my scarf matches if my hair is wrapped cause I like to coordinate).
And I'm not being overly old school because when I was a teenager we had our share of ridiculous looking fads. Wearing clothes backwards and/ or inside out really wasn't a bright idea, but it was a trend that worked and at least it was regular clothes and we wore our hats to the back...
Notice I said HATS!!! Not velcro wraps or night bonnets. This is really the crux of my crusade. Ladies hear me when I say this:
THERE IS NEVER A TIME WHEN I SHOULD SEE A SATIN BONNET/CAP OUTSIDE OF YOUR HOME!!! *
I can't take it. True story, we were in church on Sunday and the lady sitting in front of me had on a daggum satin cap on a Sunday morning. (yes, I have the picture to prove it) and I almost couldn't concentrate cause I kept thinking "WHAT THE HAM SANDWICH WERE YOU THINKING???"
Now don't get me wrong, no one is more of an advocate for bending the tradition of "dressing up" for church, but that's taking "come as you are" too far.
Yes, that was an extreme case of being out of order, but whenever I see someone donning their satin night cap it makes me question your hygienic practices before you left the house. There is no way on God's green earth that you looked in the mirror with a black satin bonnet on your head and thought "Yep... did it on 'em!" And I have seen ladies fully dressed, labels and stillettos with a dang blame satin bonnet on. I don't care if you are Prada from neck to foot, when I see that cap, what I think when I see you is "Did you shower, brush your teeth, even wash your face or at least take a "hoe bath"???
Now granted I am a very girly girl who still gets fussed at by my mom and grandma's if I don't have on pantyhose in church or if my skirt hits my knee so I understand there are some fashion rules that are meant to be broken. I also realize people (both men and women) choose to express themselves through quirky fashion, but this must stop! You're setting both blacks and women back about 100yrs. I don't want to see you voting at the poles, on the front (or back) of a bus or retail establishment in a satin cap as a hat. If you're reading this and are guilty, free yourself today. If you have a sistah girl who is guilty, a true act of love would be to intervene. Get her a scarf, wig, lace prayer hat, turban...anything.
I'd rather see an unkempt head than that d@#* satin cap!
*The only time this is even possibly acceptable is if you are ill and in an abulance or emergency room. But you'd better be real sick!
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Some things I never thought I do...
Ok let me preface this post by saying it's about a topic that most of us don't like to talk about... death and funerals. But not in a creepy way (cause that creeps me out), but more of a testimony of how I've overcome my irrational, albeit merited fear of them. Carry on...
Over the past year 5 years I've gone to about 10 funerals and I survived most of them without major incident. Now I know you may be saying to yourself "So, what's the big deal?", but for someone who used to literally be sick and frozen with fear at the very thought of caskets and such, this is a personal triumph.
You see when I was a child I had a few traumatic, and some comedic experiences at wakes and funerals. I personally believe I suffered from a splash of PTSD, but that is a self-diagnosis. But once you understand why, I think you'll agree.
The very first wake I ever went to was in the small country church in the town where my grandparents lived. (One stop light, one power pole, Mayberry kinda town.) A very popular lady in the community had passed and she was also my mother's godmother. I was 7 at the time and no one explained to me what exactly we were going to. All I knew of wakes was from TV. So I'm thinking a coffin, a flower or two, and a nice picture on an easel. Imagine my shock to walk into this church and see a dead person at the front!!! (Even at that age I'm sure I cussed in my mind long before I understood that was the appropriate response.) I never walked up to the casket out of pure fear and confusion, but there were people everywhere and somehow I ended up in the lounge of the ladies room. It seemed like a safe place to be. The children's choir was singing, and I had actually calmed down. Until it happened... THE CHURCH WENT DARK!!! PITCH BLACK!!! Inside and outside there was not a flicker of light anywhere to be found. Street light, porch lights, cigarette lighters nothing. Now for a 7yr old who slept with a night light as it was, this was the worse thing that could've happened. I froze. To this day I can't tell you what happened for the next few minutes or how I got out of that church. The next thing I remember was somehow ending up in the car with my daddy and my sister (who was a wee tot) listening to the radio. I don't remember crying, screaming or anything... just traumatized. From that point on I was done with dead folks... and it seemed to only get crazier as the years went by.
I went to what we thought was a wake and it ended up being a night time funeral, then when we viewed the body he looked NOTHING like the person we were told it was supposed to be. Seriously, how does a man who was lighter than me, somehow end up being dark chocolate in his casket??? Still not convinced that was him.
Went to a service once where the casket wasn't closed all the way and my mom thought me and my sister were just seeing things out of our fear... yeah not so much. It wasn't closed and when we saw the person in the casket with a winter coat on we understood why!!!
I've pumped myself up to go support a bereaved family, thought I was doing ok, til I got ready to sign the guest registry only to grab the pen and began shaking so hard it looks as though a 3yr old had scribbled in the book. FAIL!!!
And of course because I am the clown that I am I have sat in funerals and in an effort to take my mind off where I was I have gotten so tickled with nervous laughter I've had tears running down my face and had to play it off as if I were overcome with grief.
Now that I'm older, I realize I've matured in the natural and in the spiritual when it comes to facing death and funerals, but I understand better celebrating the life through the tears of missing the person is all part of this thing we call life.
But don't get me wrong, give me a wedding or a baby dedication over a funeral any day (but if you're into the macabre, I'm not judging. I am yet praying for you, but not judging), however since I'm no longer frozen in fear at funerals it could easily manifest itself in some other form of foolishness. I mean the last one I went to I actually walked up to the casket voluntarily alone and said "Awww she looks nice" which is something I never thought I would do... but on the other hand trying to fall in the casket thinking you're going to take them out and walk around like "Weekend at Bernie's" is NOT a good idea... don't ask me how I know. Just don't ask... :-/
Over the past year 5 years I've gone to about 10 funerals and I survived most of them without major incident. Now I know you may be saying to yourself "So, what's the big deal?", but for someone who used to literally be sick and frozen with fear at the very thought of caskets and such, this is a personal triumph.
You see when I was a child I had a few traumatic, and some comedic experiences at wakes and funerals. I personally believe I suffered from a splash of PTSD, but that is a self-diagnosis. But once you understand why, I think you'll agree.
The very first wake I ever went to was in the small country church in the town where my grandparents lived. (One stop light, one power pole, Mayberry kinda town.) A very popular lady in the community had passed and she was also my mother's godmother. I was 7 at the time and no one explained to me what exactly we were going to. All I knew of wakes was from TV. So I'm thinking a coffin, a flower or two, and a nice picture on an easel. Imagine my shock to walk into this church and see a dead person at the front!!! (Even at that age I'm sure I cussed in my mind long before I understood that was the appropriate response.) I never walked up to the casket out of pure fear and confusion, but there were people everywhere and somehow I ended up in the lounge of the ladies room. It seemed like a safe place to be. The children's choir was singing, and I had actually calmed down. Until it happened... THE CHURCH WENT DARK!!! PITCH BLACK!!! Inside and outside there was not a flicker of light anywhere to be found. Street light, porch lights, cigarette lighters nothing. Now for a 7yr old who slept with a night light as it was, this was the worse thing that could've happened. I froze. To this day I can't tell you what happened for the next few minutes or how I got out of that church. The next thing I remember was somehow ending up in the car with my daddy and my sister (who was a wee tot) listening to the radio. I don't remember crying, screaming or anything... just traumatized. From that point on I was done with dead folks... and it seemed to only get crazier as the years went by.
I went to what we thought was a wake and it ended up being a night time funeral, then when we viewed the body he looked NOTHING like the person we were told it was supposed to be. Seriously, how does a man who was lighter than me, somehow end up being dark chocolate in his casket??? Still not convinced that was him.
Went to a service once where the casket wasn't closed all the way and my mom thought me and my sister were just seeing things out of our fear... yeah not so much. It wasn't closed and when we saw the person in the casket with a winter coat on we understood why!!!
I've pumped myself up to go support a bereaved family, thought I was doing ok, til I got ready to sign the guest registry only to grab the pen and began shaking so hard it looks as though a 3yr old had scribbled in the book. FAIL!!!
And of course because I am the clown that I am I have sat in funerals and in an effort to take my mind off where I was I have gotten so tickled with nervous laughter I've had tears running down my face and had to play it off as if I were overcome with grief.
Now that I'm older, I realize I've matured in the natural and in the spiritual when it comes to facing death and funerals, but I understand better celebrating the life through the tears of missing the person is all part of this thing we call life.
But don't get me wrong, give me a wedding or a baby dedication over a funeral any day (but if you're into the macabre, I'm not judging. I am yet praying for you, but not judging), however since I'm no longer frozen in fear at funerals it could easily manifest itself in some other form of foolishness. I mean the last one I went to I actually walked up to the casket voluntarily alone and said "Awww she looks nice" which is something I never thought I would do... but on the other hand trying to fall in the casket thinking you're going to take them out and walk around like "Weekend at Bernie's" is NOT a good idea... don't ask me how I know. Just don't ask... :-/
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Like vs. Love: A lesson in semantics
1like verb \ˈlīk\
2a : to feel attraction toward or take pleasure in : enjoy <likes baseball>
1love noun \ˈləv\
3: to like or desire actively : take pleasure in <loved to play the violin>
(the above definitions are from merriam-webster.com)
I had the joy of spending this past weekend celebrating my grandmother's 83rd birthday. She's the matriarch of our family and her wisdom comes from many years of experience. I always learn a little something that gives me a different outlook on life when I spend time with her and my family. Even in the last year losing a sister and a daughter, having a stroke...she still chuckles for no reason when she answers the phone. Grandma is such a joy and we are so blessed to still have her with us.
But one thing that has always puzzled me is how she uses the word "love" where most people would use "like". I don't think I've ever heard grandma say she "likes" anything, but she "loves" everything.
If she wants something to drink she would "love" to have a pitcher of sweet tea over crushed iced.
She "loves" to watch her stories, but she does not "love" cop shows.
If she's cooking dessert she's going to ask what kind of cake do you "love", not which one you like. And she knows exactly what each of her grandkids "loves".
I noticed this more when I spent the month at her house after her stroke. And no matter how many times I tried to subtly correct her by answering "Yes, ma'am I eat pork chops, but I don't "love" them." or I would say I like cabbage, but after my 3rd helping, she'd look at me across the table and say "You LOVE cabbage, don't you?" (and start chuckling), and the same goes for molasses pudding!!! (YAASSSS!) Whatever she loves she's very detailed in it's preparation, whether it's for her or for someone else. She loves to make it because she knows we love it.
This semantic observation has made me change how I view even the smallest things in life. When grandma makes that statement about whatever it is she loves there's so much passion behind it. She's not being overly dramatic, but she doesn't waste her time on something that she doesn't love. It's either one or the other.
In the midst of my transition that's my new approach. I have to love the next thing I do. I'm not going to waste my time being indifferent about something. I find myself reading job postings thinking "I don't think I love that". Even with people I have acquaintances but since I've moved back home and reconnected with friends from years ago, but think about being away from my friends in Atlanta I realized "I really love them". Or even trying something new like Happy Hour at Sonic...I LOVE discount slushies!!!
The point is Grandma may not be a great scholar (she never graduated from high school), but she has taught me one of the greatest lessons in life. How to genuinely love...
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I ain't never scurred!!! SIKE... Hello fear?
Yeah, I know it's been a while since I posted but between my Whitney grief, Davy Jones' memorials, every day battles with my sanity, technical difficulties and such other matters just charge it to my head. But *Varnell Hill voice* did ya miss me?
I can say my mind has been racing with various sundry topics and what has really been at the forefront is fear. The fear of being in limbo, perhaps having to start over in NC, or even going back to Atlanta and realizing I would still kinda be starting over. Then my thoughts were flooded with all sorts of things that I am afraid of concerning where I am or am not in my life.
Like following my dreams. I'm not fresh out of college anymore and while I feel better now than I did when I left college, I'm not old, but at 35, I'm no spring chicken either. Can someone else put up with the fact that when I'm really involved in my work at my desk I sing like I'm in the studio? Do you know how long it took my coworkers when we moved to cubicles that I really don't have much to say before 11am, but at 2pm I'm a ball of energy?
I even thought about entering a new relationship. At my age I'm set in my ways and anyone I might want to marry will be too. Do they take their shoes off at the door while I wear mine all around the house? Are they a morning person and I'm a night owl? And because my thoughts are pretty random, allow me to go a step further. What about passing gas? I was in an off/on relationship for many years and we had become comfortable enough to do that in front of one another. It took a long time though. (No lie this was something that really concerned me...) Even having to explain the crazy relationship between me and my non-gay best guy friend which they will never understand anyway so why bother!!!
But what if I go back to Atlanta and my friends and boos have forgotten about me! That's scary right?
And let's not talk about going to another state altogether... my nerves can't take it!
I know the Bible says that God has not given us the spirit of fear ,but the revelation I got in that is there is a difference between having a slight apprehension about something versus a spirit of fear hovering over you to the point you can't function. That's called paranoia which is a mental illness and you need to see the previous post from February 1st on mental illness. Get some counseling...
But what I do know is fear comes with uncertainty but that's what fuels our faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. If we knew what was going to happen we would need God to grant us peace that passes all understanding. So even in the little things and in the midst of feeling small butterflies in my stomach when it comes to facing the fear of being in limbo I know I'm walking in faith and peace.
In the meantime I'm gonna make sure I put Febreeze, Glade and scented candles on my hope chest/wedding wish list registry so me and my future boo can love on each other in liberty!!!
Go with God!
I can say my mind has been racing with various sundry topics and what has really been at the forefront is fear. The fear of being in limbo, perhaps having to start over in NC, or even going back to Atlanta and realizing I would still kinda be starting over. Then my thoughts were flooded with all sorts of things that I am afraid of concerning where I am or am not in my life.
Like following my dreams. I'm not fresh out of college anymore and while I feel better now than I did when I left college, I'm not old, but at 35, I'm no spring chicken either. Can someone else put up with the fact that when I'm really involved in my work at my desk I sing like I'm in the studio? Do you know how long it took my coworkers when we moved to cubicles that I really don't have much to say before 11am, but at 2pm I'm a ball of energy?
I even thought about entering a new relationship. At my age I'm set in my ways and anyone I might want to marry will be too. Do they take their shoes off at the door while I wear mine all around the house? Are they a morning person and I'm a night owl? And because my thoughts are pretty random, allow me to go a step further. What about passing gas? I was in an off/on relationship for many years and we had become comfortable enough to do that in front of one another. It took a long time though. (No lie this was something that really concerned me...) Even having to explain the crazy relationship between me and my non-gay best guy friend which they will never understand anyway so why bother!!!
But what if I go back to Atlanta and my friends and boos have forgotten about me! That's scary right?
And let's not talk about going to another state altogether... my nerves can't take it!
I know the Bible says that God has not given us the spirit of fear ,but the revelation I got in that is there is a difference between having a slight apprehension about something versus a spirit of fear hovering over you to the point you can't function. That's called paranoia which is a mental illness and you need to see the previous post from February 1st on mental illness. Get some counseling...
But what I do know is fear comes with uncertainty but that's what fuels our faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. If we knew what was going to happen we would need God to grant us peace that passes all understanding. So even in the little things and in the midst of feeling small butterflies in my stomach when it comes to facing the fear of being in limbo I know I'm walking in faith and peace.
In the meantime I'm gonna make sure I put Febreeze, Glade and scented candles on my hope chest/wedding wish list registry so me and my future boo can love on each other in liberty!!!
Go with God!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Thank you Whitney...
I remember being in 9th grade the Monday after the 1991 Super Bowl and everyone was talking about Whitney Houston's stirring rendition of the National Anthem. Now granted, the whole country was still very emotional and full of patriotism because the first Gulf War starting not too long before, but I think even in a time of peace Whitney in that white track suit and headband would've made Radio Raheem from "Do the Right Thing" drape himself in an American flag. It never crossed my mind to even attempt to sing the National Anthem anywhere, but the radio played it like it was a studio recorded single, so just like most other songs by her that came on the radio at the time, I heard it once or twice and would sing along note for note. The only subconscious intention I had was to drive my siblings and parents crazy singing in the bathroom. (I didn't know I had such a big mouth)
By the time the next school year rolled around I had made a few friends (I was new to the school my first year) and because birds of a feather flock together I met some other people who loved to sing. They were in the chorus and I was not, but somehow we turned our gym class into a bootleg chorus class. Our gym teacher didn't enjoy it but we had a BALL! We sang ALL the time.
That spring the chorus sponsored a talent show. Some how my friends convinced me to audition. I didn't even sign up to audition cause I had never planned to audition, but I remember them coercing me into the chorus room one day after school and telling the chorus teacher she had to hear me sing. I only agreed to this if they stayed in there with me and when she asked what I was gonna sing, I panicked and I thought to myself "What do I know all the words to???" Before I could think of something basic like "Mary had a little lamb" or I say "The Star Spangled Banner" by Whitney Houston. The chorus teacher looked at me with a look like "Yeah right" and to myself I thought the same thing: "Oh you gonna sing Whitney?: Now I had sang in public before but only at the small local church in my grandma's town and most of the congregants and choir were family so that wasn't much different from singing around the house which we did all the time anyway. Singing and music has always been natural for me, but never outside of my audience being family...until now.
All I could think was if I don't sound good my friends are going to boo me and I can't run out of this room... SHAME!!!
The teacher asked me did I want her to play for me on the piano and I said no. I took a deep breath, focused, closed my eyes and heard Whitney singing in my head. When I opened my mouth I simply started to sing Now I'm not saying I sounded just Whitney, but at 15 I knew nothing about range or tone or vocal technique. I was simply imitating Whitney Houston, and I did just that.
I remember coming home to tell my parents I was gonna be in the talent show and it was laughable. I wasn't the "entertainer" I am now and the thought of being at a microphone to talk or sing in front of a crowd would cause me to shake and my knees to knock and my mouth would turn into cotton. A mumbly shaky mess (as we discovered one year when I had to introduce my mother and her sisters at their anniversary a year earlier. FAIL!)
But if I sang in front of my friends in gym and in the chorus room surely I could do this talent show. I don't even know if there was a prize involved but I did it anyway. And I was on first... They introduced me, I took the mic, closed my eyes, my knees were shaking and I felt like someone was choking me... utter shame was about to come upon me. I didn't start of too bad, but let's just say "the rockets red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" was a metaphor brought to life because my nervousness cause those notes to bomb. But my friends knew I could sing, they heard me in the locker room, on the bus, in the hall... and they cheered me on and when they did, I felt my Whitney imitation take over me and finished the song to thunderous applause.
From then on I've always fallen back on my Whitney Houston renditions when I need an old standby. I sang "The Greatest Love of All" countless times at last minute "black events" in college, seen many brides and grooms gaze into each other's eyes singing I believe in you and me, and turned out karaoke contest singing "All the Man I Need" (do y'all remember FUN FLIXX?) and even auditioned for the college choir with "The Star Bangled Banner" (which the director informed me is in B-flat if anyone asked)
Of course my voice, technique and style have matured over the years. I've come into my own as a vocalist. There are many other singers who can sing circles around me, but I don't take my talent for granted. I thank God for my gift but I will always credit THE VOICE, MS. WHITNEY HOUSTON for helping me discover my own voice. That's the Whitney I want to remember and will never forget...
By the time the next school year rolled around I had made a few friends (I was new to the school my first year) and because birds of a feather flock together I met some other people who loved to sing. They were in the chorus and I was not, but somehow we turned our gym class into a bootleg chorus class. Our gym teacher didn't enjoy it but we had a BALL! We sang ALL the time.
That spring the chorus sponsored a talent show. Some how my friends convinced me to audition. I didn't even sign up to audition cause I had never planned to audition, but I remember them coercing me into the chorus room one day after school and telling the chorus teacher she had to hear me sing. I only agreed to this if they stayed in there with me and when she asked what I was gonna sing, I panicked and I thought to myself "What do I know all the words to???" Before I could think of something basic like "Mary had a little lamb" or I say "The Star Spangled Banner" by Whitney Houston. The chorus teacher looked at me with a look like "Yeah right" and to myself I thought the same thing: "Oh you gonna sing Whitney?: Now I had sang in public before but only at the small local church in my grandma's town and most of the congregants and choir were family so that wasn't much different from singing around the house which we did all the time anyway. Singing and music has always been natural for me, but never outside of my audience being family...until now.
All I could think was if I don't sound good my friends are going to boo me and I can't run out of this room... SHAME!!!
The teacher asked me did I want her to play for me on the piano and I said no. I took a deep breath, focused, closed my eyes and heard Whitney singing in my head. When I opened my mouth I simply started to sing Now I'm not saying I sounded just Whitney, but at 15 I knew nothing about range or tone or vocal technique. I was simply imitating Whitney Houston, and I did just that.
I remember coming home to tell my parents I was gonna be in the talent show and it was laughable. I wasn't the "entertainer" I am now and the thought of being at a microphone to talk or sing in front of a crowd would cause me to shake and my knees to knock and my mouth would turn into cotton. A mumbly shaky mess (as we discovered one year when I had to introduce my mother and her sisters at their anniversary a year earlier. FAIL!)
But if I sang in front of my friends in gym and in the chorus room surely I could do this talent show. I don't even know if there was a prize involved but I did it anyway. And I was on first... They introduced me, I took the mic, closed my eyes, my knees were shaking and I felt like someone was choking me... utter shame was about to come upon me. I didn't start of too bad, but let's just say "the rockets red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" was a metaphor brought to life because my nervousness cause those notes to bomb. But my friends knew I could sing, they heard me in the locker room, on the bus, in the hall... and they cheered me on and when they did, I felt my Whitney imitation take over me and finished the song to thunderous applause.
From then on I've always fallen back on my Whitney Houston renditions when I need an old standby. I sang "The Greatest Love of All" countless times at last minute "black events" in college, seen many brides and grooms gaze into each other's eyes singing I believe in you and me, and turned out karaoke contest singing "All the Man I Need" (do y'all remember FUN FLIXX?) and even auditioned for the college choir with "The Star Bangled Banner" (which the director informed me is in B-flat if anyone asked)
Of course my voice, technique and style have matured over the years. I've come into my own as a vocalist. There are many other singers who can sing circles around me, but I don't take my talent for granted. I thank God for my gift but I will always credit THE VOICE, MS. WHITNEY HOUSTON for helping me discover my own voice. That's the Whitney I want to remember and will never forget...
Friday, February 10, 2012
Breakfast is served... in the back?!?
Ok, there are several ways I could approach this subject but it's 2012 and I can't hold my peace any longer.
I enjoy dining out and one of my favorite meals to "chat and chew" over is breakfast/brunch. It's almost become a tradition for me on Sunday's whether dining alone or with friend(s), to get something covered in syrup after church. There's no better time to catch up with old friends than over the most important meal of the day. All bets are off and even the pickiest eater can find something they like over breakfast. It's not too expensive and a good, gregarious guffaw blends in with short order cook yelling and the clamor of plates without shame. The mood is always light, no tension even amongst the most awkward of dining partners. There seems to be no judgement during breakfast except for the hostess with my seating assignment during the month of February!!!
I have gone out to breakfast 3 times this week and during my most recent visit to a local family eatery for breakfast I noticed I was sat in the back of the restaurant. I mean the back... like next to the kitchen and opposite the fire exit. But I didn't say anything...
Then my mind went back to the other day when my parents, my brother and I went to brunch and once again we beasted on breakfast platters next to an exit door in the back of the restaurant...
Then I had another memory of last Sunday when my sister and I were enjoying chicken and waffles and such at my favorite hometown restaurant and we were up top, but you guess it...2 booths from the exit door in the back!
Even last weekend when I went out with my home girl (although it was for dinner) we were still in the back...
And then I remembered back in 2009, not too long after President Obama's inauguration some friends and I decided to spend Valentine's weekend in the mountains of a state that will remain nameless (cause it's all in the south!) and our trip planner extraordinaire found a quaint (but popular for tourist) breakfast spot for us to meet and begin our day. Granted we had a large party (more than 6) so initially when they sat us in the VERY BACK (and I mean the LAST tables) it didn't seem odd. Until we noticed that as the time progressed the only other patrons they were sitting in this area all looked like "us". But the coup de grace was when the last two people in our party arrived (because we had traveled from different places, thus arriving at different times) and before they could tell the hostess they were meeting a party the hostess said... (wait for it)... "They're in the back" *blank stare* Ummm how did you know they didn't want a table for 2 or maybe they were meeting some Caucasian friends, but I took it as no matter who they were looking for everyone black is in the back!!! Now granted at that point in time I was still so high on my president being black I took it in stride, not to mention the food was phenomenal. (Side note: Uhhhh can I get apple muffins shipped to me?)
Here's what is bothering me the most right now ..my conscious. After I got home from my most recent breakfast outing I began to think "When you saw the hostess passing all those empty table and booths in the front why didn't you say anything?" Why didn't I ask for a different table if I felt so strongly. I mean I from the birthplace of the Sit-Ins right around the corner. Did I not want to seem difficult or create a ruckus?
But could the truth be my love for breakfast foods subconsciously blinds my eyes to bigotry, especially when I haven't had coffee yet!!!!
I mean it could be a coincidence or maybe I'm just being overly sensitive during Black History Month :-/
Ehh well... We still in the struggle, pass the syrup...Fight the power!
I enjoy dining out and one of my favorite meals to "chat and chew" over is breakfast/brunch. It's almost become a tradition for me on Sunday's whether dining alone or with friend(s), to get something covered in syrup after church. There's no better time to catch up with old friends than over the most important meal of the day. All bets are off and even the pickiest eater can find something they like over breakfast. It's not too expensive and a good, gregarious guffaw blends in with short order cook yelling and the clamor of plates without shame. The mood is always light, no tension even amongst the most awkward of dining partners. There seems to be no judgement during breakfast except for the hostess with my seating assignment during the month of February!!!
I have gone out to breakfast 3 times this week and during my most recent visit to a local family eatery for breakfast I noticed I was sat in the back of the restaurant. I mean the back... like next to the kitchen and opposite the fire exit. But I didn't say anything...
Then my mind went back to the other day when my parents, my brother and I went to brunch and once again we beasted on breakfast platters next to an exit door in the back of the restaurant...
Then I had another memory of last Sunday when my sister and I were enjoying chicken and waffles and such at my favorite hometown restaurant and we were up top, but you guess it...2 booths from the exit door in the back!
Even last weekend when I went out with my home girl (although it was for dinner) we were still in the back...
And then I remembered back in 2009, not too long after President Obama's inauguration some friends and I decided to spend Valentine's weekend in the mountains of a state that will remain nameless (cause it's all in the south!) and our trip planner extraordinaire found a quaint (but popular for tourist) breakfast spot for us to meet and begin our day. Granted we had a large party (more than 6) so initially when they sat us in the VERY BACK (and I mean the LAST tables) it didn't seem odd. Until we noticed that as the time progressed the only other patrons they were sitting in this area all looked like "us". But the coup de grace was when the last two people in our party arrived (because we had traveled from different places, thus arriving at different times) and before they could tell the hostess they were meeting a party the hostess said... (wait for it)... "They're in the back" *blank stare* Ummm how did you know they didn't want a table for 2 or maybe they were meeting some Caucasian friends, but I took it as no matter who they were looking for everyone black is in the back!!! Now granted at that point in time I was still so high on my president being black I took it in stride, not to mention the food was phenomenal. (Side note: Uhhhh can I get apple muffins shipped to me?)
Here's what is bothering me the most right now ..my conscious. After I got home from my most recent breakfast outing I began to think "When you saw the hostess passing all those empty table and booths in the front why didn't you say anything?" Why didn't I ask for a different table if I felt so strongly. I mean I from the birthplace of the Sit-Ins right around the corner. Did I not want to seem difficult or create a ruckus?
But could the truth be my love for breakfast foods subconsciously blinds my eyes to bigotry, especially when I haven't had coffee yet!!!!
I mean it could be a coincidence or maybe I'm just being overly sensitive during Black History Month :-/
Ehh well... We still in the struggle, pass the syrup...Fight the power!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Power of Polar Opposite Prayers
Well America we survived another NFL football season which culminated in the SUPERBOWL this past Sunday. Congratulations to the New York Football Giants!!! And boo-hoo to the New England Patriots.
But this got me to thinking... all during this NFL season fans and non-fans have been fascinated with "Tebowing", a posture kneeling down in prayer made popular by Denver Bronco quarterback Tim Tebow on the sidelines.We watched Tebow and his team triumphantly pray their way through some seemingly impossible last minute plays, but in the end they still didn't make it to the big game.
Even the week before the Super Bowl despite Gisele's plea for prayers for Tom Brady, she still ended up in a cuss rant after their loss. (God knew your heart Gissy!) I mean surely fans on both sides were "praying" there team would win, but somebody had to lose ( But for the record I was rooting for the Giants though... just sayin')
This got me to thinking... just because we're not always seen in the "Tebowing" prayer posture, there could always be someone praying a prayer polar opposite from some one else's and some one's prayer isn't going to be answered in their favor. Think about it...
When you're looking for a job, someone else is looking and praying too.
Ladies, you're praying "Lord let him ask me on a date" and He's praying "Lord please get her out of my face!" (a little seasonal humor... Haaaa!)
Even in my current situation I know there are some people praying prayers that would seemingly cancel each other out. I have friends and family who are on both sides of the fence about me going back to Atlanta or staying here in NC. My 12yr old nephew literally starting praising God after I finally told him ( I had been here 2 weeks) I wasn't going back to Atlanta, but when I told him I wanted to go back he then began to suggest I should find someone here to marry so I won't have to go back. (ok... I wasn't totally mad at that suggestion) I'm certain other family members and friends feel this way, but at the same token I am touched at the calls and messages I get from my friends in Atlanta expressing how much they miss me and hope I can come back soon. (I miss them terribly too!) Then I have friends and family who are supportive no matter what move I plan on making next... My 6 yr old niece just hugged me and said " I don't care. I'm just glad you're here now" (awww)
Being in the middle of all this I changed my prayer to "God lead me so that I may be in your will." Now am I saying I have forgotten about my desire to go back to the "big city" that I called home for 9yrs or suggesting I don't want people to pray for me to stay here? Certainly not!!! (yeah ummm don't stop praying and believing, Pray without ceasing and such, Send up timber, those of you that know the works of prayer, please pray for me and any other cliche that can be inserted here!!!)
But what I am saying is that God knows best and which ever way He answers the bi-polar prayers of the people I simply want to be in his will... here, there or somewhere!!! Me and anyone else will get over any disappointment is the prayer isn't answered in our favor, once we realize that God surely has a better plan than we could've ever thought of, so just accept what God allows!
"Thy will be done..."---yep that's my prayer.
Go with God y'all!
Nilly B!
But this got me to thinking... all during this NFL season fans and non-fans have been fascinated with "Tebowing", a posture kneeling down in prayer made popular by Denver Bronco quarterback Tim Tebow on the sidelines.We watched Tebow and his team triumphantly pray their way through some seemingly impossible last minute plays, but in the end they still didn't make it to the big game.
Even the week before the Super Bowl despite Gisele's plea for prayers for Tom Brady, she still ended up in a cuss rant after their loss. (God knew your heart Gissy!) I mean surely fans on both sides were "praying" there team would win, but somebody had to lose ( But for the record I was rooting for the Giants though... just sayin')
This got me to thinking... just because we're not always seen in the "Tebowing" prayer posture, there could always be someone praying a prayer polar opposite from some one else's and some one's prayer isn't going to be answered in their favor. Think about it...
When you're looking for a job, someone else is looking and praying too.
Ladies, you're praying "Lord let him ask me on a date" and He's praying "Lord please get her out of my face!" (a little seasonal humor... Haaaa!)
Even in my current situation I know there are some people praying prayers that would seemingly cancel each other out. I have friends and family who are on both sides of the fence about me going back to Atlanta or staying here in NC. My 12yr old nephew literally starting praising God after I finally told him ( I had been here 2 weeks) I wasn't going back to Atlanta, but when I told him I wanted to go back he then began to suggest I should find someone here to marry so I won't have to go back. (ok... I wasn't totally mad at that suggestion) I'm certain other family members and friends feel this way, but at the same token I am touched at the calls and messages I get from my friends in Atlanta expressing how much they miss me and hope I can come back soon. (I miss them terribly too!) Then I have friends and family who are supportive no matter what move I plan on making next... My 6 yr old niece just hugged me and said " I don't care. I'm just glad you're here now" (awww)
Being in the middle of all this I changed my prayer to "God lead me so that I may be in your will." Now am I saying I have forgotten about my desire to go back to the "big city" that I called home for 9yrs or suggesting I don't want people to pray for me to stay here? Certainly not!!! (yeah ummm don't stop praying and believing, Pray without ceasing and such, Send up timber, those of you that know the works of prayer, please pray for me and any other cliche that can be inserted here!!!)
But what I am saying is that God knows best and which ever way He answers the bi-polar prayers of the people I simply want to be in his will... here, there or somewhere!!! Me and anyone else will get over any disappointment is the prayer isn't answered in our favor, once we realize that God surely has a better plan than we could've ever thought of, so just accept what God allows!
"Thy will be done..."---yep that's my prayer.
Go with God y'all!
Nilly B!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Love, Peace and Soul... but it's no laughing matter
I realize I've only written a few post and last night I had several topics running through my mind with a humorous spin on them, but after hearing the news of Don Cornelius's death this morning, I put every other topic on the back burner to bring a very serious topic to the forefront...
When I heard reports that the iconic voice and creator of SOUL TRAIN had died I thought "Dang... we lost another legend in the black community.", but then to hear reports that his death came at his own hands... an apparent suicide... I was shook!!! What makes a 75yr old man who was a successful icon and living legend want to take his own life, and especially at his age? What could've possibly been going on for someone to take their own life after 3 quarters of a century? I mean he conducted "the hippest trip in America!", "love, peace, and SOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUULLLLLL!" He brought us a party every Saturday for years in our homes? This doesn't make any sense...
But then I stopped and thought... what makes someone want to attempt take their lives at any age?
A school aged child being bullied,
or a high school girl who didn't feel pretty enough because she never got asked out
or a high school football player who's dreams of playing for a Division 1 school were shattered by an injury
or a college student who felt like a failure because they didn't make the Dean's list
or couldn't quite find a clique to fit in
or was struggling with their sexuality and afraid to come out to their family and friends
or a new mother who couldn't shake the stresses of caring for another life
or the dad that lost his job and didn't know how he was going to support that new wife and baby
or the single mother doing all she knows to do, but still trying to make ends meet
or the baby daddy who's baby mama is acting out about visitation
or the graduate trying to make a name for themselves in the workplace only to be hit with office politics
or the single woman/man who feels all alone because the love of her life doesn't love her in return
or the criminal who committed a horrible crime but couldn't face the judgment of the people
or the baby boomer who isn't as spry as they used to be and has empty nest blues
or the elderly person who sees how times have changed but they don't remember them changing...
Yeah... all of these could be a rational reason for attempting suicide to someone who is dealing with depression or mental illness or there could be seemingly no reason at all.
You can't see depression... and I'm not talking about just a bad day or week. I'm talking about the illness that often goes untreated and undiagnosed (especially in the African-American community and the church)... clinical depression.
We dismiss it as a family trait "Child, you know they all a lil' off", or someone who is just always "going through", and especially in the church we're quick to tell someone to "lift up your heads and encourage yourself!!!" (which is fine and dandy, but often temporary and difficult to do for a person who has depression).
Here's my point (Black History segue)... as a community we have enough diseases trying to take us out with symptoms we can see, but still mental illness/depression is taking lives yet is still such a taboo subject. Every other week there is a blood pressure screening in the hood or a "sugar" diabetes testing or self-breast exam reminder being announced at our churches, schools and other events (and YES these are still VERY important), but when somebody "can't get right" or seems really down for a period of time we don't encourage them to get professional help, we take them out to dinner to cheer them up, but that's the end. They may laugh it up with you and be the life of the party, but then go home and cry themselves to sleep or never get to sleep because their mind is racing with thoughts of loneliness and hopelessness and with nagging thoughts that then end is the only way out. Then we want to whisper at the funeral "Girl I didn't know it was that bad." and start falling out and carrying on. (and you know I'm right)
As a woman of faith I fully believe in God's healing power, but just like any other illness or disease I also know God places the wisdom of doctors, therapist, prescription drugs and other natural remedies to help us. Faith without works is dead, and I don't want to see another life taken at the hands of suicide because someone didn't know where to turn for help. No matter your age, situation you're facing, or how bad it seems now... there is help and hope!
And if you've never dealt with serious depression tell God "thank ya"!!! It's very hard to understand if you've never been there. And I'm not telling you what I've heard... I'm telling you what I know. A friend of mine ask me (out of genuine concern, but it was funny) "So what does an anxiety attack or depression look like so I'll know if it's happening. Is there something I'm supposed to do? Do I just let you cry? Try to make you laugh? What???" (and he was so serious!) There's really no way to describe it and it effects everyone differently. Everyday isn't easy... some are better than others, but at the end of each day I'm thankful I fought to the end, count my blessings, chose to rejoice and be glad in it... even if but for a moment.
When I started writing this, I hadn't planned on ending this post in such a transparent way, but allow me to leave you with these words from a classic song:
Because he lives
I can face tomorrow
Because he lives
All fear is gone
Because I know
He holds the future
And life and is worth the living
Just because he lives
And yes, this is still my life... but not everything is a laughing matter.
(I promise the next post won't be so heavy... I just wanted to help the people) Happy Black History Month!
When I heard reports that the iconic voice and creator of SOUL TRAIN had died I thought "Dang... we lost another legend in the black community.", but then to hear reports that his death came at his own hands... an apparent suicide... I was shook!!! What makes a 75yr old man who was a successful icon and living legend want to take his own life, and especially at his age? What could've possibly been going on for someone to take their own life after 3 quarters of a century? I mean he conducted "the hippest trip in America!", "love, peace, and SOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUULLLLLL!" He brought us a party every Saturday for years in our homes? This doesn't make any sense...
But then I stopped and thought... what makes someone want to attempt take their lives at any age?
A school aged child being bullied,
or a high school girl who didn't feel pretty enough because she never got asked out
or a high school football player who's dreams of playing for a Division 1 school were shattered by an injury
or a college student who felt like a failure because they didn't make the Dean's list
or couldn't quite find a clique to fit in
or was struggling with their sexuality and afraid to come out to their family and friends
or a new mother who couldn't shake the stresses of caring for another life
or the dad that lost his job and didn't know how he was going to support that new wife and baby
or the single mother doing all she knows to do, but still trying to make ends meet
or the baby daddy who's baby mama is acting out about visitation
or the graduate trying to make a name for themselves in the workplace only to be hit with office politics
or the single woman/man who feels all alone because the love of her life doesn't love her in return
or the criminal who committed a horrible crime but couldn't face the judgment of the people
or the baby boomer who isn't as spry as they used to be and has empty nest blues
or the elderly person who sees how times have changed but they don't remember them changing...
Yeah... all of these could be a rational reason for attempting suicide to someone who is dealing with depression or mental illness or there could be seemingly no reason at all.
You can't see depression... and I'm not talking about just a bad day or week. I'm talking about the illness that often goes untreated and undiagnosed (especially in the African-American community and the church)... clinical depression.
We dismiss it as a family trait "Child, you know they all a lil' off", or someone who is just always "going through", and especially in the church we're quick to tell someone to "lift up your heads and encourage yourself!!!" (which is fine and dandy, but often temporary and difficult to do for a person who has depression).
Here's my point (Black History segue)... as a community we have enough diseases trying to take us out with symptoms we can see, but still mental illness/depression is taking lives yet is still such a taboo subject. Every other week there is a blood pressure screening in the hood or a "sugar" diabetes testing or self-breast exam reminder being announced at our churches, schools and other events (and YES these are still VERY important), but when somebody "can't get right" or seems really down for a period of time we don't encourage them to get professional help, we take them out to dinner to cheer them up, but that's the end. They may laugh it up with you and be the life of the party, but then go home and cry themselves to sleep or never get to sleep because their mind is racing with thoughts of loneliness and hopelessness and with nagging thoughts that then end is the only way out. Then we want to whisper at the funeral "Girl I didn't know it was that bad." and start falling out and carrying on. (and you know I'm right)
As a woman of faith I fully believe in God's healing power, but just like any other illness or disease I also know God places the wisdom of doctors, therapist, prescription drugs and other natural remedies to help us. Faith without works is dead, and I don't want to see another life taken at the hands of suicide because someone didn't know where to turn for help. No matter your age, situation you're facing, or how bad it seems now... there is help and hope!
And if you've never dealt with serious depression tell God "thank ya"!!! It's very hard to understand if you've never been there. And I'm not telling you what I've heard... I'm telling you what I know. A friend of mine ask me (out of genuine concern, but it was funny) "So what does an anxiety attack or depression look like so I'll know if it's happening. Is there something I'm supposed to do? Do I just let you cry? Try to make you laugh? What???" (and he was so serious!) There's really no way to describe it and it effects everyone differently. Everyday isn't easy... some are better than others, but at the end of each day I'm thankful I fought to the end, count my blessings, chose to rejoice and be glad in it... even if but for a moment.
When I started writing this, I hadn't planned on ending this post in such a transparent way, but allow me to leave you with these words from a classic song:
Because he lives
I can face tomorrow
Because he lives
All fear is gone
Because I know
He holds the future
And life and is worth the living
Just because he lives
And yes, this is still my life... but not everything is a laughing matter.
(I promise the next post won't be so heavy... I just wanted to help the people) Happy Black History Month!
Monday, January 23, 2012
Off the market: A voluntary recall
It's that time of year again... the stores are full of red, white and pink bears, florist are getting the head start on ordering wholesale roses, and the "Every kiss begins with K..." jingle is on TV so much it's stuck in your head.... yep... Valentine's Day is quickly approaching in a few weeks. Not to mention this is a Leap Year where it's socially acceptable for ladies to propose to guys on the 29th of February. Interesting fact, right??? Read on...
Anyone who really knows me, knows that in spite of all the relationship up and downs, round and rounds (and any other confusion that would give you motion sickness) I am a HOPELESS romantic. I love love and as Christian I fully realize there is no greater love than the love God had when he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to save us, but I also recognize that Adam and God were the only people in the garden and Adam said he was lonely so God made Eve (stop me when I'm not in THE BOOK!!!). God only revealed Eve to Adam after He formed her and prepared her for him.
Like most (not all but most) women my age who are single, I would like to get married one day, and up until recently I (like most women) had some basic qualities that I would like for a man to have before I even consider dating him seriously and/or exclusively. I mean the basics... Job, car, his own place. And I'm not saying you have to take me to Chop House or Lobster Bar (cause I'm not picky), but I don't care where we go, I'm not picking you up and certainly not from your mama's house!!!Then it hit me... "Ummm ma'am right now you don't have but one of those things yourself!!!" I mean honestly, if a man approached me and he was in my circumstances I wouldn't totally dismiss him, but I would be praying for God to lift us both up with a quick work!!! Now don't get me wrong y'all know one of my lines is the from the classic Walter Hawkins song "The economy's down people can't get enough pay" so I understand it's hard out here for a pimp, but this caused a poignant, mature, moment of introspection concerning my "single and looking" status...thus the inspiration for the title of this blog. Go with me....
When people are single they are said to be "on the market" which would suggest we have something to offer others who are looking. I thought of this metaphorically... what do I have to offer? Just like a company who's product is on store shelves, when they want to re-brand or change the packaging or something may still work and be ok to the consumer,but they realize there is something that could be improved they impose a voluntary recall. That's right... I've decided to take myself off the market for a while.
I mean don't get me wrong, I still consider myself a nice catch, but as far as the basics are concerned I need to regroup, focus on me, and getting myself back together. This, for me, seems like the right thing to do. I mean think about it, don't you appreciate a company more when they voluntarily tell the stores and consumers "Hey... the stitching on these jeans is a little off, so we're gonna take them back to the manufacturer so they can be sold at Marshall's (or in extreme cases one of those warehouse sales in convention center ballrooms). Nothing's wrong with them, but we want to present you with a best quality product" rather than you buying the jeans and wearing them only for the pocket stitching to start unraveling. :-/
I'd rather use this time of transition to allow God to prepare me and work on me in every area of my life so when I'm back on the market I'll be one of the best there is to offer, and not get involved in something that looks ok at first then eventually falls apart.
I won't be a Big Lots bride... upgrade me JESUS!
Anyone who really knows me, knows that in spite of all the relationship up and downs, round and rounds (and any other confusion that would give you motion sickness) I am a HOPELESS romantic. I love love and as Christian I fully realize there is no greater love than the love God had when he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to save us, but I also recognize that Adam and God were the only people in the garden and Adam said he was lonely so God made Eve (stop me when I'm not in THE BOOK!!!). God only revealed Eve to Adam after He formed her and prepared her for him.
Like most (not all but most) women my age who are single, I would like to get married one day, and up until recently I (like most women) had some basic qualities that I would like for a man to have before I even consider dating him seriously and/or exclusively. I mean the basics... Job, car, his own place. And I'm not saying you have to take me to Chop House or Lobster Bar (cause I'm not picky), but I don't care where we go, I'm not picking you up and certainly not from your mama's house!!!Then it hit me... "Ummm ma'am right now you don't have but one of those things yourself!!!" I mean honestly, if a man approached me and he was in my circumstances I wouldn't totally dismiss him, but I would be praying for God to lift us both up with a quick work!!! Now don't get me wrong y'all know one of my lines is the from the classic Walter Hawkins song "The economy's down people can't get enough pay" so I understand it's hard out here for a pimp, but this caused a poignant, mature, moment of introspection concerning my "single and looking" status...thus the inspiration for the title of this blog. Go with me....
When people are single they are said to be "on the market" which would suggest we have something to offer others who are looking. I thought of this metaphorically... what do I have to offer? Just like a company who's product is on store shelves, when they want to re-brand or change the packaging or something may still work and be ok to the consumer,but they realize there is something that could be improved they impose a voluntary recall. That's right... I've decided to take myself off the market for a while.
I mean don't get me wrong, I still consider myself a nice catch, but as far as the basics are concerned I need to regroup, focus on me, and getting myself back together. This, for me, seems like the right thing to do. I mean think about it, don't you appreciate a company more when they voluntarily tell the stores and consumers "Hey... the stitching on these jeans is a little off, so we're gonna take them back to the manufacturer so they can be sold at Marshall's (or in extreme cases one of those warehouse sales in convention center ballrooms). Nothing's wrong with them, but we want to present you with a best quality product" rather than you buying the jeans and wearing them only for the pocket stitching to start unraveling. :-/
I'd rather use this time of transition to allow God to prepare me and work on me in every area of my life so when I'm back on the market I'll be one of the best there is to offer, and not get involved in something that looks ok at first then eventually falls apart.
I won't be a Big Lots bride... upgrade me JESUS!
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
May I retract my resume... going from bad to worse
The cat's out the bag now that I am indeed unemployed and looking. (no shame, just was keeping it low key as not to dampen the holiday season for everyone else) While my desire is to go back to Atlanta and live the single life that I've grown to know and love, or ideally commute between the two places, or be famous and go everywhere, in the meantime, (like the song says) "the economy's down, people can't get enough pay" and I need to support my hair-do habit so I'm looking both here and there.
Today I ran across a position that fit my qualifications and background. Granted it wasn't the ideal job, but I'm certain I could do it. Working in a group home for girls for a religious organization seems easy, yet simultaneously challenging enough. (and if you know anything about my last job you know it's not too far off the path) They had two positions, one in Raleigh, and another in one of the larger cities not far from where my grandma lives, which means I could work there and still look out for her.
I do the online application for the position located in Raleigh, hit submit button and another questionnaire pops up "This position may require you to stay overnight 2-3 days on sight, with occasional weekends..." yadda yadda yadda. No problem... I click yes.
I complete the same application for the other location (which I'm purposely keeping anonymous) and the questionnaire pops up, but this time there are two questions. The first was the same about staying overnight, but the second asked would I be willing and physically able to participate in an unarmed self-defense course to continue on in the candidate process... SCRRRRRRRRRRR! PUMP THE BRAKES!!!
Are you saying I need to take the course because I'm going to need to use this skill at this particular location??? Are you for real? My steps are ordered ,so ummm that's not His will!
Why would you wait til someone spends 20 minutes filling out a lengthy online application, then mention this? GOTCHA!
They can call me all they want, but my response will be "Uhhh yeah about that... Jehovah Jireh.God is still providing... I'm good!"
On the bright side at least they told me up front...(But they should add that disclaimer to whomever is applying for my former postion...)
The search continues... in ATLANTA!!!
Today I ran across a position that fit my qualifications and background. Granted it wasn't the ideal job, but I'm certain I could do it. Working in a group home for girls for a religious organization seems easy, yet simultaneously challenging enough. (and if you know anything about my last job you know it's not too far off the path) They had two positions, one in Raleigh, and another in one of the larger cities not far from where my grandma lives, which means I could work there and still look out for her.
I do the online application for the position located in Raleigh, hit submit button and another questionnaire pops up "This position may require you to stay overnight 2-3 days on sight, with occasional weekends..." yadda yadda yadda. No problem... I click yes.
I complete the same application for the other location (which I'm purposely keeping anonymous) and the questionnaire pops up, but this time there are two questions. The first was the same about staying overnight, but the second asked would I be willing and physically able to participate in an unarmed self-defense course to continue on in the candidate process... SCRRRRRRRRRRR! PUMP THE BRAKES!!!
Are you saying I need to take the course because I'm going to need to use this skill at this particular location??? Are you for real? My steps are ordered ,so ummm that's not His will!
Why would you wait til someone spends 20 minutes filling out a lengthy online application, then mention this? GOTCHA!
They can call me all they want, but my response will be "Uhhh yeah about that... Jehovah Jireh.God is still providing... I'm good!"
On the bright side at least they told me up front...(But they should add that disclaimer to whomever is applying for my former postion...)
The search continues... in ATLANTA!!!
Friday, January 6, 2012
What a difference 2 months makes....
Happy New Year!!! Thanks for stopping by. My first post will be short and sweet just to give you a taste of my story telling style
I can't believe all that has transpired over the last 2 months! Durn! If someone had told me when I was ringing in my 35th birthday on a Saturday night into Sunday morning November 6th, 2011 that on January 6, 2012 I'd be unemployed and serving as my grandma's bootleg caregiver in her home while she recovers from a mild stroke that happened as I was leaving her house 2 days after Christmas, I wouldn't have believed them even if they were standing on a mountain top, holding two stone tablets in front of a burning bush, Nah... that's ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous. But it happened... and there hasn't been a dull moment since! Stay tuned... I'm just getting started.
I can't believe all that has transpired over the last 2 months! Durn! If someone had told me when I was ringing in my 35th birthday on a Saturday night into Sunday morning November 6th, 2011 that on January 6, 2012 I'd be unemployed and serving as my grandma's bootleg caregiver in her home while she recovers from a mild stroke that happened as I was leaving her house 2 days after Christmas, I wouldn't have believed them even if they were standing on a mountain top, holding two stone tablets in front of a burning bush, Nah... that's ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous. But it happened... and there hasn't been a dull moment since! Stay tuned... I'm just getting started.
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