December 13, 2012


I drove in this morning to work instead of taking the train.   Company Christmas Party at Trump Towers this evening.  Not that I care much for these affairs.  Yes, I like to eat, drink and be merry. But I don't enjoy the pretense and awkwardness of standing around making small talk. I'm too real. I will usually slip up and say something....well, real. With the goal of making a genuine connection, I guess.  I almost skipped it altogether. Nay.  Can't come off as the snooty anti-social black girl. I'm darn near Barack at my company i.e. almost the only one of my kind.  Almost. They're good people.  So, I try....sometimes.   
I'm comfortable in silence, especially in the morning.   I've always been that way.  But over the years, I've made adjustments for other's sakes in lieu of being deemed moody.  Today, God beckoned a morning conversation.  Probably because He knows the thoughts and feelings that have been swirling around inside me.  Enough to choke hope and dreams a like.  The abyss has been looming nearby, waiting for me to slip in.  He wanted me to SAY SOMETHING.  So between greens and yellows and reds, slowly I began to verbalize aloud goodness, mercy, favor and blessing over, not just myself, but my loved ones.  I didn't "feel" any different afterwards honestly.  But faith is not feelings, right?
Yesterday, I declared to my co-workers that I would stay at the party until after the raffle because I planned to win the free airline tickets.  Mind you, in almost 14 years, I've NEVER won any raffle at my job.  But I said, "It's My Time." I actually wasn't putting much thought into it....part of the "small talk" of the day. But it became a minor point of discussion with others actually saying they hope I win.
Guess what?  I did win.  The Spanish wine and cheese basket.  The prize right after the airline tickets.  A year when we had the most attendees ever, all of which were entered into the raffle...I was one of the 5 "random" winners.  In that moment, God continued this morning's conversation.  "Wonder what your faith could pull to you if you really focused it?" Jesus, the universe and all in it was giving me a small glimpse of my power....glimpses revealed before, but I seem to forget when the steel boot of this life is kicking me in the hind parts.
An old friend once told me that God showed him that I was a queen...and not like "my black African queen princess sista!".  Like a ruler.  A queen.  He said that's why I act the way that I do.  He didn't mean it as a compliment, mind you.  I didn't understand.  Wanted to know what God showed him...what did he mean I was a queen in the "other world...the spirit"???  How do I act?  He wouldn't elaborate.  I didn't ask again...but I hid it in my heart.
Dear God of the Universe: What have you made me?  What is my power pull? Cause all I know is I'M NORMAL...IN DISGUISE. Selah.

bite of the day ~  What are you pulling to YOU?


November 8, 2012

Jesse Jackson Jr Ho-Dogging???

College.  A Black Student Leadership Conference.  That was the first time I laid eyes on Jesse Jackson Jr.  He was the keynote speaker...and yep, he was FINE! :-)  Fast forward to 2012...and I cringe that I ever thought he was the slightest bit attractive.  Hos are not fine nor attractive to me these days.  And yes, it is personal.  Just as personal as it is for the group of female Chicago aldermen that blasted Jesse Jr in the media today after the story broke that he's in plea deals with the feds about misuse of campaign funds, including buying his side chick a $40,000 Rolex. Really???

I do not know him personally, nor his wife, Alderman Sandy Jackson....but it's the same ole story.  The junk is trifling and ridiculous.  Hurtful.  Any extramarital affair is devastating to the wronged spouse....but to add insult to injury, he is sniffing behind a woman who is COMPLETELY opposite of his wife.  Blond and white.  What are you tryin' to say Jesse??? Typical.  Sigh.  And no, it wouldn't have made it better if she were brown-skinned and black-eyed.

Obviously he didn't care enough to even try to hide his indiscretions since he was flying this woman to Chicago to meet him and she was referred to as his "social companion".  So the junk was well-known in their circle.  Sandy eventually found out too...and stayed to work it out.  

Now I know there are those who will say "Well, you don't know what was going on in his marriage.  He was obviously unhappy.  His wife wasn't meeting his needs." Blah blah blah. Bull. B.S. Bullshhhhh! I have had a man tell me how his wife wasn't this and she doesn't do this and that....which was the reason he was doing this and that.  The whole "the devil made me do it" excuse is so lame.  

Listen up all Ho-Dogs (yes, that's my word!).  Stop with the blaming and excuses.  Grow some "balls".  Talk to God.  Talk to your spouse.  Pray with your spouse.  Pray to God.  Get some counselling.  Put some real selfless work in.  It is YOUR responsibility to KEEP the VOWS YOU made!  If all else fails, do the honorable thing and LEAVE!  Don't leave your children.  Don't leave your responsibilities.  Leave the marriage....even if temporarily.  But to sneak around...or worse yet, blatantly cheat on your wife/husband because you are displeased and unsatisfied with the situation??? And don't even get me started on the super selfish crass infuriating  DOWN-LOW MESS.  FIRE!!!

The real is most Ho-Dogs may want to leave, but they don't because they want the double-cheese burger, super-sized fries AND the six-pack abs at the same time.  The comfort of a home, go-to life partner, someone to share the load whether financially, emotionally or otherwise.  It's easier to stay...and stray.  But life doesn't work that way.  Eventually that double-cheese will start popping through them ripped abs.  And everyone will see the evidence of all of those behind closed door binges.  

Sigh again.

bite of the day ~ I had no plans to write about this but I needed  Prayers up for the Jacksons.  Especially Sandy...but ditto to Alderman Austin. "He would NEED to stay in Mayo Clinic if he was my husband."  Click the link below for the whole article .


October 17, 2012

Let's Talk About SEX Part 2

As I splashed through puddles of rain and fallen leaves, feeling the wet seep through my Skechers, I heard what sounded like a low scream from across the street.  Instantly, I looked in the direction of the junior high school I pass practically everyday on my way home.  There were three or four slightly saggin' boys with nice fades surrounding a couple of (obviously) fast girls who were all giggles and grins.  The "scream" had come from the one whose legs were wrapped around the waist of a chocolate saggin' he pressed her against the exposed brick of the school....and humped.  I'm assuming in an effort to show her what he's working with.  Sigh.  
I see not much has changed since I was in junior high school.  Horny Pricks.  Silly chicks.   Our young freaks would actually double team a boy against a locker between classes, and take turns giggling, groping and squeezing his balls as he squirmed in....pain???  Maybe not.  It looked painful to me.  Of course, I was still years away from "personal experience" at that point....and was actually quite disgusted with the crass display.  What did I know?  Um...nothing.

Except Sex. It was and IS everywhere.  Correction.  The illusion of it is everywhere.  Teasing and taunting....wooing.  But what seems fun and sweet and oh! feels so RIGHT!...can quickly turn to bitter and painful and oh!  just so....WRONG!  Soul ties, broken hearts, oops! pregnancies (younguns AND old-heads who should know better....ijs), and let's not forget STDs (sexually transmitted diseases for those who like to play dumb...). 

Which brings me back to my comment in Part 1...why I can't succumb to my raging hormones and just "give me away".  There are many reasons...but I will wrap them in one simple statement.

 pre·cious audio (prshs) KEY
    Of high cost or worth; valuable.
    Highly esteemed; cherished.
    Dear; beloved.
The Lord planted this knowing in my deep parts at a very early age.  Damaging words, damaged people and a damaged world has been trying to uproot The Preciousness ever since.  But no matter how many punches, kicks, hair pulls, or soul rips I take, the roots are too deep that if I attempted to open my legs to an "unworthy", my preciousness would cause them to shake and quack and violently snap shut.  I  AM precious.  Selah.

bite of the day ~ For both ladies&gents, BE PRECIOUS.  RE-program yourself and understand who you are.  You can wait...and you are WORTH waiting for.  Stay tuned for Part 3 to find out my definition of an "unworthy". :-)


October 3, 2012

Politics and the Presidential Election 2012

The truth?  I hate politics.  I hate the whole political season.  I hate those cheesey "I approve this message" commercials.  An oxymoron, yes,  because I come from a very aggressively politically active family...whose activism grew out of an organic concern for the community.  I myself minored in political science and was the VP of my university's chapter of the NAACP...and in student government. And yes,  I've walked a picket line or two.  But POLITICS...I hate.  Let there be no mistake about it.  This presidential election, like all the others before it, is POLITICS AS USUAL...a popularity contest....with higher stakes.  No different than running for homecoming king or queen in high school.  I hated those contests too.
With that being said, this is about the time I force myself to get tuned in. Yes, I watched the debate. We are speeding toward election day...thank God the manipulation is almost over!   And I'm a good tax paying citizen so I will have my say.  It's a point of personal integrity to at least the major elections.  
I remember as a teenager, watching the documentary "Eyes on the Prize" about the civil rights movement...angry tears streamed down my face as I witnessed how black folks (and some righteous white folks) suffered and died so that WE could have the right to vote.  How dare I NOT!?! How dare YOU!?! But don't anyone make the mistake of trying to influence WHO I should vote for.  To me, my vote is sacred...and personal.  IT'S MY DECISION.  It's just like a marriage....I'm committing to the candidate of MY CHOICE.  Only difference is I know for sure it won't last forever....  
bite of the day ~ Voting is a responsibility.  Register.  Get the facts.  Make YOUR own decision.  And keep it to yourself.  Let others use their own brains and choose without your influence. 


September 18, 2012

Let's Talk About Sex! Part 1

I remember the first time my "lady parts" were ever touched by a man....well, a boy, actually.  Sophomore in high school.  Virgin...of the 5-year-old variety.  Crowded hallway between classes. Star athlete walking my way. And BAM!  Or more like 2 finger SWIPE right down the middle of my gina-girl.  SHOCK. EMBARRASSMENT.  Disgust.  Little more shock.  curiosity.  hmmm.
Now I had confessed my undying love, loyalty and obedience to Jesus at about 7 years old.  This included, as was burned into my soul at church, sexual purity or holding on to your "goodies" until marriage.  So I committed myself to doing just that.  In my effort to hold on to said goodies, I delved rather deeply into a fantasy world where I could literally do anything I wanted...without restriction.  At the time, I had no idea about the power of know, the whole concept of "Free Your Mind and Yo A** Will Follow".  You will go in the direction of your most dominant thought.  As a man thinketh, so is he...etc etc etc.
Well, my mind was on SEX....which made my whole quest to retain my virginity that much more challenging.  By the time I got to college and fell in love for the first time, curiosity was ready to kill "the cat".  But my faith and my vow to God was much stronger (praise da lawd!) and by the time I walked down the aisle at the tender age of 28, I was still a virgin....not quite of the 5-year-old-variety anymore, mind you.  I barely made it.  BUT I made it. Whew.  Needless to say, expectations for married life were in the stratosphere!  Sweet FREEDOM! YAY. sigh.
Fast forward to my present state of single again, no longer a virgin of any variety...and in the healing state from heartbreak.  It would be so darn  easy to just go "get some".  I have been tempted....many times in the past two years.'s been TWO YEARS...and I have my raging hormones moments quite often.  Trust. But  I realize I am, yet again, at a crossroads.  I can dust off my hands and say "I'm done!  I played the goody role all my life.  I waited for marriage and the s**t didn't work.  I still ended up divorced just like everybody else that's divorced.  I'm done GOD! If I want to HAVE a man...I'm gonna have him."

Only problem is....while I'm having him, he's having ME.  Sigh.

bite of the day ~ Problem with giving ME away....Sex Talk Part 2. :-)


August 6, 2012

Gabby Douglas & the Nappy Weave

I'll admit...I noticed.  Any black woman that's been a black girl noticed.  Cause hair is a BIG part of our identity.  But Good God!  To make an issue about this child's hair to the point that actual articles are being written on major websites about the overdone weave and "hair hatin'"....shame!

I noticed, then I shrugged it off to HARD TIMES.  Obviously.  I mean, getting a fresh do was not a priority for her or her family.  She was too busy preparing to become the first African-American female to win team & individual GOLD at the Olympics.  And I guess her mama was too busy um.....paying BILLS!  Sigh.  So she did the best she could....with a truckload of gel.  Trust me, I've been there. 

I had become used to getting my hair done every two weeks after I transitioned from the curl (it was cute and wavy NOT the drip drip kind!...) to the relaxer.  That is until I went to college and my mother moved back to Chicago.    My every two week ritual was no longer a priority to my family. I was BROKE. So broke that one Easter, I couldn't bear the thought of NOT having my hair done so I scraped up a few dollars, bought a box perm, and went to my grandmother's house in the country to apply the chemicals like I THOUGHT I had seen the professionals do so many times.  How hard could it be??? Sigh.   Let's just say that was the first...and the last time I've relaxed my own hair.  I had so much new growth still after the hair was looking just like Gabby's.  Sitting fat on top of my head.  Thank God it didn't fall out!  Immediate tears.

Anyway, it's mainly black folks talking about her.  I bet it's been discussed on Tom Joyner & Steve Harvey...I'm not positive because I don't listen to all that foolishness first thing in the morning.  But I just know how WE do.  Cracking jokes.  Scorin'. Jesting.  And just plain tearing each other down in the name of "I jus playin'" and a laugh.  That's why so many of us are walking around with complexes  and self-image issues now!  My people.  Sigh.

bite of the day ~ Folks will praise you one minute, and tear you down the next.  Best thing to do is not let either go to your head or your heart.  Do you Gabby!


August 5, 2012

my my my....Youthworld

So I decided to listen to the playlist radio for New Edition on Spotify while I went through my tedious hair washing routine...which unfortunately, I didn't start until after 10:30pm.  Great music always helps. :-)

Of course the station played what are now considered my generation's version of oldies....90s hits from not only New Edition but BBD, Xscape, Al B. Sure, get the point.  My My My by Johnny Gill came on probably during the conditioning of my second section of thick not-too-tangled-this-time hair.

MY MY MY by Johnny Gill

Of course, a flood of memories from that time hit me and I thought about my old youth group at church.  My mother took my brother and I to Faithworld, a nondenominational church in Dallas...Oak Cliff to be exact, when I was about 11 years old.  We stayed there until she moved back to Chicago my freshmen year in college.  Needless to say, me and my youth group...which was proudly known as Youthworld, went through every type of growing pain, life lesson & teenage experience you can think of....together.

The summers were always....interesting to say the least.  Without the distraction of school, there was plenty of time for bonding over the soundtrack of crushes, breakups, make-ups, rivalries and other foolishness.  By sheer will of our parents, volunteers and youth pastors, there was SOME focus on God, Jesus, the Bible and the like.

We would go to a Christian summer camp practically every year.  Ahhhh...more opportunity for theatrics....and you know when the parents are away, the children will PLAY. lol.  Anyway, I remember at one such camp, after dinner and church services with its demonstrations of tongues, holiness and the like....a group of us found ourselves chillin' in a circle outside the bunks singing, of all things, Johnny Gill's My My My. When we came to "....and you're soooo damn fine", Marqui paused and said "Can I say it?" We were like "yeah!".  And she did, a little low....feeling mischievous.  But we all knew that any other time we would be singing "....and you're soooo DAMN fine" just as bold as Johnny did. Good times. lol

Now, we've all pretty much gone our separate ways.  Life has been hard for some and easier for others.  Life is over for a few of us.  (RIP Cynthia.  RIP Robert J.) But wherever life has taken us, we will always be Youthworld.  To my brothers & sisters, whether I ever see your face on this side again, know this....the love is deep and the memories will never be forgotten.  Even the unmentionables.  For those who know..... :-)

bite of the day ~ We shouldn't live in the past, but remembering what you've been through and who you've been through it with can help to strengthen you for the journey ahead.


July 28, 2012

Overwhelmed? SKIP.

See...this is why I am abnormal..."special"...half-crazy.  I was raised by a abnormalspecialhalf-crazy...mother.   Seriously.

Case in point.

The other day, I was doing my usual routine of eyesbrowslipsBible during my quiet train ride to work.  It was quiet because 1) no crazies happened to be acting out that morning 2) mostly everyone else's heads were buried in an e-device of some sort  3) the general unspoken phrase "I hate my job" was hanging in the air.  Suddenly, my boring, (I'm told) ring tone pierces the silence.  It was my mother.  I immediately think "Oh Lord.  What now?" because an early morn weekday call is not her usual.  The convo went something like:

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:
Good Morning My Dearest Darling Daughter....(, really...she LAUGHED OUT LOUD).

(trying not to talk too loud so sounding dry)
Good Morning...

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:
(still bright)
 Ok...I called your brother with this dare so I'm posing the same dare to you...

(confused & a little frightened)

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:
 (even brighter)
When you get off the train, I dare you to SKIP...even if it's just a few skips to the elevator or anything.  But sometime today, you must skip.  I double dare you. (another LOL)

(still confused & less frightened)
um....well, I have on slide-ins so I'm not about to do it when I get off the train and bust my behind, okkkk.

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:
Me and Mani (my brother) were talking about how this life has made him so heavy (emotionally/spiritually) that's why I'm daring you to skip.  Sometimes, I just skip.  Shoot.

And she does.  (She did it the other day the moment I let her into my apartment.)  After I hung up, I sighed out loud.  My mother and her antics. Doesn't she know I'm thinking about work&bills&divorce&future&mypurpose&theElection&gaymarriage&gunviolence&....Sigh.  I don't have time for these childish games. BUT because I'm a good daughter...and don't ignore dares....I got to the bottom of the train station stairs, went through the turnstile and SKIPPED to the street. Yes, in slide-ins and all.  Which in turn made me laugh slightly out loud and smile for the remainder of my walk to work, thinking about the ridiculousness of it all.  My mother.  Gotta love her.

But you know what?  I felt....lighter.  More carefree.  I guess the 60-year-old skipper does know a little something. :-)

bite of the day ~ Be child-like.  It works.


June 17, 2012

First Love

You were my first love on this side of life.  And that love was an all-inclusive lifelong commitment type deal....good, and not so good.  The bad and ugly?  Well thank God, OUR relationship hasn't gone there...but this life here?  It has brought both the bitter and the sweet.....I'm so glad you've been present through it all. 

My Daddy. 


The road trips.  Everyone packed into that blue Regal, snoring all around except you and I.  I would stare at your reflection in the rear view mirror.  The old scar on your forehead seemed to pulsate with the intensity etched on your face.  I always wondered what thoughts lie behind your green eyes.  Always wanted to know what was in your mind.  Wanted to know you.  Glad I finally do.

The conversations.  There's a running joke about your torturous lectures.  We would prefer the Creflo-style discipline any day, if it meant avoiding the dreaded UNENDING LECTURE! lol.  But that's you.  The lecturer.  The debater.  The educator.  At some point, the lectures transitioned into conversations.  Discipline turned to sharing.  To knowing and being known. Talking and listening.  Talking and laughing and listening.  These days, j'adore the sound. 

The love.  No matter how many self-esteem, self-image, self-(..fill in the blank)....issues I faced as a girl growing up,  my foundation was firm because I had you.  Yes, I had Mama and all that she brings....but a child...a girl-child needs something else from her father.  Your presence in my life protected me (still does)...taught me to protect myself.  You were the first to tell me I had a gift and what it was.  You directed me into The Better.  You required The Better.  You gave what you hadn't received...affirmation, gentleness...and hugs. :-)  So when the older perv approached me at 13 years old...wanting to "teach me" some things, I didn't fall for it like so many girls do.  Didn't want it.  Didn't need it.  "Sorry dude.  I got a Daddy and HE taught me everything I need to know." 

bite of the day ~ Thank you Daddy.  Happy Father's Day. :-)


June 12, 2012

Here's to Lasting Marriages...Good News. Finally!

Today, I decided to read the news online...something I haven't done in awhile.  Quickly, I remembered why.  BAD NEWS.  All around.  The testimonies in the Sandusky case (Penn State Sex abuse scandal....old perv caught humping on a 10 year old in the locker room....poor innocent baby.  I cringe, but um...I couldnt have left without stopping it! Hellooooo Stupid.).  Testimonies in the Marvin Winans assault and grand theft auto case ($20k watch!?!).  Crime Crime CRIME!  Sigh.

My God!  It's disturbing...weighs my spirit down...and I, for one, can do without it.  Thus my partial banishment of the daily news.  But I have to watch it sometimes, because a sista can't walk around ignorant.  When I do decide to expose myself to the happenings in the world, what some would call "fluff" catches my attention.  Actually, I call it encouragement.  Inspirational.  Hopeful.  GOOD NEWS.  Like this piece on about long lasting Hollywood marriages!  Ahhh.  A sigh of relief.  I needed that.  If they can make it in LA, you can make it...anywhere!  Check it out and tell me it doesn't put a smile on your face....:-).  Hope the link works...first time doing this....Enjoy!


April 23, 2012

Adventures on CTA

"I don't like the B*t*h.  Point blank period.  Sh*tttt.  This muthaf*cka bets get movin'....Sh*tttttt. D*mn, I'm hungry as a muthaf*cka!"

I'm no stranger to public transportation being that I've been taking it since I was a kid.  Of course now it's not due to the lack of a vehicle but because it's convenient (and cost-effective) for most of us commuting downtown for work.  I must say I've seen just about everything on the L....that's the elevated train for you non-Chicagoans. :-)

~Beautiful gold chain snatched off a foolish woman..neck bleeding. (Thought they were flirting. Even as a kid I knew not to tell them it was real...sigh.)
~Smartphone snatched from a woman that was way too preoccupied on FB.  Grab&Run out the doors as soon as they open.  (Of course she screamed at the top of her lungs and ran off the train after him...straight into his hood in the heart of the Westside.  Wonder whatever happened to her? We did call the police. Sigh.)
~Near violent altercations between the sexes...and the races.
~Way too private sexy-type convos between a woman and...a woman, about things I'd rather not have the visuals for.

And of course, the beloved homeless and mentally ill encounters.  Always fun running into a mentally ill gentleman who throws a cupful of some type of liquid at you because you didn't pay him any attention as you walked by.  (That junk barely missed me.  I was ready to give him some attention all right!)  That same gentleman on another occasion got a kick out of crunching (loudly) on some stank pork skins on an overcrowded train (you can imagine the odors that were already floating at the end of that long day)...and then peering over his cloudy bifocals at the rather nervous and slightly annoyed caucasian lady sitting next to him.  (Reaction only feeds someone like him.)  So of course the rest of the ride was filled with him crunching those stank pork skins directly in her ears...getting closer to her with every bite.  It was actually kinda funny.  Crazy man!

With all the experiences I've had and observed during my years of riding CTA, the most disturbing has to be the disrespectful cussing young 20s and under.  Many of them are absolutely oblivious to the fact that there are gray headed folks all around (i.e. elders) that they should be ashamed of talking like that in front of.  Someone seriously dropped the ball on passing on the basic respect that we used to be taught to have.  Certain things you just don't say in front of anybody old enough to be your parent...and especially if they are old enough to be your grandparent!  And don't get me started on the cussing that is directed at some little beautiful brown child that didnt ask to come into this world...especially not to some impatient immature little "I'm still a child myself" girl.  Arggghhhh! Makes me mad!

 It takes great restraint for me to not pull these little girls by their cheap blonde weaves and drag them to every elder on there to apologize, then stuff some toe jam smellin' crazy man pork skins down their throats and make them sit in the corner thinking about their actions for the rest of the ride.

Nay.  God don't like ugly. Sigh.

So I just quietly pray for their mouths to be shut and try not to roll my eyes. 

bite of the day ~ Lord help. They don't know any better.  Sigh.


April 11, 2012

Trayvon Martin & the "self-defending" Zimmerman

Opinionated.  Aggressively opinionated.  That was me.  The younger me.  I didn't get into much trouble growing up (on my own that is)...except for talking too much.  At school.  At home. 

I remember my father pulling me into the front room of my grandmother's house, after witnessing me letting my bonus younger sister boss me around, manipulate and control me...mainly because she had toys that I wanted to play with and I had...nothing.  At least not there.  "Don't EVER let anyone take advantage of you.  Stand up for yourself."  I burst into tears because I knew I was being punked and had done nothing about it.  I was 5 and still feeling the fresh effects of my parents' divorce.  From that day, those words were burned into my heart, my bones...down to the marrow.  I developed a mindset that was quick on the trigger of defense if I even smelled someone trying to pull one on me...manipulate or control me.  I am not saying this is a good thing...and I acknowledge my interpretation of my father's words may have gone a bit too far.  But it is is truth.

Because of this part of my personality, I have at times found myself on the wrong side of right...unbeknownst to me, of course.  Opinionated.  Aggressively opinionated.  Willing to fight "to the death" for what I believe is right....right based on the information that I have at that moment.  Problem is there have been plenty of times that I didn't have all the information...and I was in "fight to the death" mode  (for example, defending my fav cousin against accusations that he went in the bathroom and looked at my friend while she was on the toilet i.e half-naked....long story.  Sigh)....literally me and the accused on one side of the room...everyone else involved on the other side (outnumbering us)....and my mother in the middle with belt in hand ready to unleash the wrath, not because of the incident itself, but the LIE that followed.  Lying is her pet-peeve.  Sigh for me since I didn't know I was passionately defending a lie.

All that said, I learned a hard and valuable lesson after a few close calls where I put my foot in my mouth (and the accused let me...very willing to let me go down defending them on more than one occasion).  The Lesson:


Because I have a tendency to upchuck an unsolicited opinion/verdict, this has been a challenge to say the least.  I am working diligently to do better.  Which is why I have not chimed in on the Trayvon Martin tragedy.  And it is a tragedy. 

I have nephews around his age...have worked with youth over the years....his age.  So it is especially heart-wrenching when a baby's life is snatched away...senselessly.  Seemingly coldly.  Gone too soon.  Angry cries for justice.  All things we normally say and feel when something horrible like this happens. 

When I look at the photos that have been circulating around the net of Trayvon, I see a young innocent-looking boy.  I honestly cannot see this child attacking a grown man as has been claimed. 


I was NOT there.  I didn't know Trayvon...and I don't know Zimmerman.  A picture does not speak to the totality or temperament of a person in all truth.  (I've seen folks in the height of misery pose for the camera in that moment, resulting in a very misleading picture of happiness and "I'm having the time of my life"-ness.)  What I do know is this young man is dead and Zimmerman shot him.  He has his version of the event.  Unfortunately Trayvon is not here to tell his side of the story.  I can imagine that he had no clue this encounter would end with his death.  What happened in those moments before the shooting, it is all a bit hazy...the one eyewitness account I did hear kept saying that it was dark and he can't be sure about this and that.  There are a lot of unanswered questions and loose strings. 

Now that Zimmerman has officially been charged (took way too long if you ask me)...perhaps we will start to get to the bottom of what actually happened.  Until then, I will just pray...pray for justice and healing.  Nothing will bring Trayvon back. So what justice looks like...I honestly don't know.  And I'm happy that I've finally gotten to the place that I can simply say "NO this time".

bite of the day ~ Wisdom says gather, process....then EVERY situation.  Lord help me.


April 1, 2012

Getting Back 2 Basics

So my life is in topsy-turvy, upside down, violent "sifting like wheat".....change.  And has been for over a year and a half now.  I have come to the place of emotional acceptance of my crossroads...understanding I am in a unique soul space.  A tender, fragile place.  Scalpel tip resting on the crest of the chest, ready to make that most delicate of incisions....get inside and remove the junk that's got death attached.  Understanding one wrong move, the patient may not survive.  I'm standing in the middle of a dense jungle....Indiana Jones-style with old school compass and all....trying to discern which way is right.  decisions.  Decisions. DECISIONS!

What kinda girl am I?  What kinda girl do I want to be?  Cause....


Many times when difficult life transitions come, there's the urge to throw EVERYTHING away.  Be totally different...cause perhaps being how I was is what got me into this mess in the first place.  Yeah...Imma be the OPPOSITE.  And the world will know it! Nay.  Sigh.

After much praying and soul-searching and thinking and analyzing and self-dissecting...and praying some more, I've realized I need to get back to the basics.  I don't need to scrap everything that has made me me.  But I do need to be more older and wiser...and less young and dumber.  More trusting in JESUS and less trusting in self.  More reality and less fantasy (my imaginary worlds are off the chain! a good and bad way. Sigh.)  So I've slowly but surely been getting back

1.  I'm having a series of love affairs...and it's with my awesome crazy and sometimes dysfunctional family.  My mother is my girl.  I enjoy her company.  She has been one of my best, if not THE, best friend in my life since I can remember.  It had always been a point of "pride" for me to be so close to my mother.  A woman who knows me...and also knows the boundaries.  Respects me as a girlnwoman, not all up in my business but is there when I need her.  Recently I realized my attitude had subtly shifted. "I don't want to be the Golden Girls!" became the thought.  And I don't.  And we won't.  But an unfounded fear had crept in.  From where??? Hm.  She is MY Girl and would be even if we weren't related. I will NO LONGER APOLOGIZE for it!  Especially to people with serious dysfunction with their own...what the hell am I concerned about what you think for!?!  That's done.  My he's MY Superman...proven that more in the last year and a half than in my whole life....besides when he saved me from a watery grave when I was little...but I digress.  I am a Daddy's Girl and I will NOT apologize for it!  BrothersSistersCousinsAuntsUnclesInLawsOutlaws....MY FAMILY.....I am swimming in their love and presence...I always have.  And until I got exposed to other worlds....I didn't know that this is abnormal to a number of folks.  Living life WITH your family in a healthy, non intrusive, non-controlling, proper prioritizing, putting differences aside and being there when it counts way...good bad and ugly.  This is actually an issue to some.  Go figure.  Well, love, support and (NEWS FLASH!) friendship SHOULD be the norm in families and I WILL NO LONGER APOLOGIZE THAT I HAVE JUST THAT!  I honor and need my family.  Period!

2. I'm rekindling an old flame.  I've been in love with....BOOKS ever since my mother literally brought a heavy duty trash bag of them home when I was about 8 or 9.  I read them all.  My summers were filled with trips to the library with my one point I thought I wanted to be a librarian I loved the place so I wanted to do the scan and beep thing all day. I started collecting books for my personal library years ago and my dream home will include a huge reading room....books to the ceiling...I'm talking rolling ladder status!  I had gotten away from my and drama draining my energy and brain cells. I'm back...and I'm wearing out my library card too!  Call me a nerd if you want.  Me no care!  I love getting in bed with the likes of Common (One Day It'll All Make Sense), Tyrese (How To Get Out of Your Own Way) and Devon Franklin (Produced By Faith).  C'mon boys. lol

3.  Sweet freedom...I long for.  I've always felt a huge sense of responsibility to live a certain way and do what's "right".  Felt I needed to be an example, whether folks were paying attention or not.  So my personality and decisions reflected this.  However, I used to be a lot....freer.  Laughed more.  Played more.  Acted silly more.  Danced more.  Hoped more.  I was SURE of my future and felt a sense of control because after all, it was in my hands.  All I had to do was the right things based on my faith, my family and my values....and I was home free.  Instant AWESOME life.  WRONG! The more I lived and the more I experienced, the less free I became.  Less laughter...less play...less joy.  Pain, disappointment and survival replaced confidence, certainty and peace about the  future.  Bondage to fear....of more pain.  Well, I've decided I'm done with the heavier side of life.  I'm stepping out of the abyss and into the Son-Light.  After all, I am light...the giver and lover of life.  Time for me to get to know myself again.  Selah.

bite of the day ~ Somethings are meant to change.  Life will be better for it.  But somethings are from the core of YOU.  Hold on to them for dear life...and let no pain or negativity strip them away.


March 8, 2012

mai's happy time smoothie I've been finding all kinds of ways to lift my spirits lately...prayer, time with friends and family, movies, music and all sorts of artistic expression....but there are those times I just want  I mean's a problem.  I love food...always have.  So, in order for me to NOT become two tons of fun with the emotional eating...I decided to buy me a blender (finally...) and start whipping some stuff up. 

So here's my "secret" happy time smoothie recipe...tastes soooo good and it's healthy too!  What more could you possibly ask?  Here goes...and um, don't say I ain't never gave you anything. :-)

Put the ingredients in the Blender in this order:
1. Juice of 1 lime
2. Bananas (I like to slice em and freeze em by the 2s...and then let them thaw slightly when I'm ready)
3. 3-4 tablespoons of plain greek yogurt (nonfat or 2%)
4. frozen pineapple
5. 1 tablespoon of raw honey
6. 3 ice cubes
7. A dash of organic cinnamon (if you want an extra kick of spice)


bite of the day ~ you must drink this lusciousness from a too cute WINE GLASS (no plastic or plain stuff)....and dance around to Heavy D, Kid N Play or Big Daddy Kane.  It is a part of the "Happy Time" experience.  Just do it and Enjoy!


March 5, 2012

why did I think I was exempt?


I'd been home long enough to go through my normal ritual of removing as many layers as I quickly as I can without freezing...(thank God my place is pretty cozy).  I like to be free and would honestly walk around in public in panties alone (no thongs...and burn the bra!)  if I could get away with it...anyway.  I digress.  So I'm comfy...and warm...thanking God for the awesome parking space that I rarely get on the corner right by my place....when all of a sudden, I hear  a car alarm going off.  Just out of curiosity (and because I'm a good neighbor), I decide to peek out and make sure everything was cool.  Sigh.  It was my ride!  Lights flashing and the lights of the car in front of me were flashing too...the BMW in front of me.  Sigh again!  I threw on my jeans and snow boots in record time.  Didn't think to grab my phone, pad nor pen.  Just frantic me and my keys.  Thank God the little white man with the too minty breath (liquor camouflage alert!) had enough integrity to stop.  Gratefully, it wasn't too bad.  Mainly scrapes on the back side.  I would still be able to make the short road trip to Bloomington the next day to celebrate my cousin's birthday, as planned.


After having great conversation food and drink with my family, we decide to hop into my twin (born same year same month and extremely close) cousin's car and go back to my birthday cousin's suite to chill.  A cell phone rings.  The younger one is on the other end.  He's listening and looking at me.  Uh oh. 

"Somebody just hit your car".

It was parked on a WIDE residential street in front of my family's home when some drunk idiot turned the corner, almost ran into a tree...swung around...hit the FRONT of my ride...ran up on the lawn across the street and almost into the house, which surely would have killed the young one standing in the window frozen in front of headlights...then drove across two more lawns...and then sped away.  Hit and Run. Sigh. I was numb with disbelief.


My vehicle hit TWO times within 3 days??? Nothing like this has EVER happened to me before.  I held it together until we got back to the suite, then the waterworks began.  Why me?  What have I done??  I haven't done anything to deserve this!?!  Overwhelmed.  That's the word.  It wasn't just Thursday or Saturday.  It was the previous TWO weeks of pressure and torment, being forced to lift my fists and attempt to fight my way out of a lonely damp dark corner..fight against love.  It was the last year and a half of living a life that I never saw coming.  It was the having to make a Plan B while already in it. Since, until that point, Plan A was the only one in existence...for me.  Sunday morning, my best friend called.  I told her about the accidents.  She said she'd dreamed about me all night.  Distress signals must have been going out....

Journal Excerpt:
" the end of the day, I'm finally getting it through my head....IN THIS LIFE STUFF HAPPENS!  God is with me through  it all.  Everything cannot and will not be prevented and I may get some scrapes bumps and bruises along the way...but I will emerge with no "structural" damage, just like my ride.  And when I get out of God's shop, I'll look and BE just like new.  Selah."

bite of the day ~ Just because you're special...don't mean you're special.  Stuff will happen to you, just like everybody else.  Trust God and you will be'll be tougher...prepared for the next punch life throws.



February 12, 2012

Just Whitney.

I was in the shower washing my hair...a more detailed task these days with my increasingly longer coils and curls...listening to Pandora...Erykah Badu's station....listening to Erykah when my cell rang, interrupting the song.  I like to play a guessing game when I miss a call....guess who it was....who I wish it was.  Will the two match?

My mother and I had an impromptu girls' sleepover that night, so of course I heard her cell phone ring right after my missed call.  I heard muffled sounds and "What!?!"....more muffled sounds.  Is that disappointment I hear?  Surprise?  Instantly my heart beat quickened.  Instantly it did.  My family has gone through so much tragedy in the last decade plus, that I subconsciously brace myself for the blows these days.  Before my mind could analyze what the muffled sounds meant, my mother stuck her head in the bathroom and said "Whitney Houston died."

Silence.  Oh no.  Confession: Slightly relieved.  It wasn't my great aunt or sibling or cousin or Daddy or...any relative.

But Whitney.  Hadn't seen it coming...just like with Don Cornelius...definitely didn't see that coming.  But Whitney? 

Confession:  Sad but....not surprised.  The struggle was just as legendary as The Voice.

But she's not just a voice.  Not just "the voice of a generation".  Not just a gift.

She was beauty and spunk and grace and grit and elegance and "hood" wrapped in a flawless caramel shell with long narrow legs, perfect white teeth....complemented by a full lip, the top of which would always sweat and quiver when she was reaching the mountaintop of a song.

She was who most of my generation mimicked during our 6th grade graduations...marching in and belting out The Greatest Love of All.

She was the pretty woman with the big smile....and the broken soul.  She was who so many of us wanted to be for so long.

bite of the day ~ She said it best...."Yes, Jesus loves me....". See you on the other side Ms. Houston.  Your struggle is over. 


January 4, 2012


I dreamed a vivid color I dreamed. 

In royal Purples, soft Yellows, pulsating Reds and yummy Greens, I dreamed. 

 I waded and flipped and rolled around  in my hazy vibrant dream. 

I dreamed a dream of LOVE

The floating in the clouds-while feet firmly planted-sinking deep into the earth-kind.  The lash to lash, iris to iris kind.  Breath to breath.  In-Ti-Ma-Cy.  He breathed into me and I gave life back to him.  He reached without hands and touched the depths of me...genuinely.  I reached back and he opened up to that soft mushy place.  That secret "I'm too much of a man to show you" space.  And I explored.  I looked.  I smelled.  I touched that place....the mushy place, gently I touched.  And he didn't close up nor shut down.  Didn't snatch nor push away.  He stood bravely, open and trusting....knowing I would never bring pain.  And even if I did, it was worth the touch, the sound, the feel of our hearts beating in rhythm.  Together.  One.  And I trusted that beat.  In his love, I was FREE.  Safe and Free.

Then I woke up.

Woke up to crumbly grays ashy blacks dusty blues....
and even reds....the mean kind.

I sighed a deep indescribable longing in the pit of my center.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

Then I remembered my vivid colored DREAM.

And I smiled.

bite of the day ~ Don't let go of The Dream.  It will live...if you believe.