Susie's On the Scene

Tragedy at Home

2012-01-19T18:51:00.000-06:00

This morning, one of my co-workers was murdered. He, his wife, and his daughter were shot by the daughter's boyfriend. The boyfriend fled with his four year old daughter but turned himself in at a local police station four hours later.

Hearing this news made me both sad and mad. Whenever I hear about domestic violence, it makes me sick to my stomach. Next month, February 7th, marks the 15th anniversary of my mother's death. She was a victim of domestic violence and lost her life as a result.

Throughout my childhood, not a weekend passed where my mother and one of my stepfathers didn't argue or fight. Sometimes, I would wake up to splatters of blood all of the house and since I didn't see anyone laid out on the floor I assumed they were okay.

The week before my mother's death, I remember stopping by the rooming house she lived in every day for two weeks. I even knocked on the neighbors doors and no one had seen her or her boyfriend.

Periodically, I had seen news reports about a woman's body being found by some fisherman in a lake in a small town in Mississippi. Authorities were having trouble identifying the body. The Mississippi and Tennessee police eventually got together and ran her fingerprints. If it hadn't been for the time mom had spent in jail after cutting a previous boyfriend, we probably would have never found out what happened to her.

I had just made it home from a college class when my aunts and uncles showed up at my dad's house. When they told me the news, all I could say was, "I knew it was her, I knew it was her."

Two weeks before my 21st birthday, my mom was gone--forever. Domestic violence, to me, is the worse crime ever. How could you hurt or kill someone that you claim to love? I don't want anyone to love me that much.

Cyber Family Time

2011-12-04T23:41:00.000-06:00

When I'm not crocheting my fingers to the bone, with mountains of yarn scraps surrounding my desk chair, the kid and I have been making weekly YouTube videos. Haven't done too many natural hair videos lately because I've been wearing a lot of hats to work. You know, slick advertising and what not (and it's working, YES!).

I used to sneak and do my videos when the kid was asleep, sometimes I even did them in the car. But when I realized that having the kid's participation made for a better, more fun-filled video, I decided to include him. If he wasn't feeling to honery of course (which is hardly ever). He's been addicted to getting his picture taken since he came into the world so making videos was just a natural progression.

Of course, if he ever gets to the point where he doesn't want to be bothered, I completely understand. Hey I can be funny and entertaining all by myself. I don't need no cute little smart alek 4 year old to make my videos fantastic... Well, it wouldn't be as much fun. So I'm going to milk this for all it's worth. LOL

Hey, some people may think that I'm taking advantage of my son and using his cute face and silly antics for my own personal gain. You know what I say to that? Times is hard and the kid is going to have to get a job one day so he might as well figure out how to market his skills now.

{crickets}

It's not like he's really doing a whole lot. He's just being himself, which would be great for ratings if we were on a real tv show. But as it stands, he takes some of the pressure off of me when I'm attempting to make a not so boring show and tell type video for my crochet items.

Cyber family time is the new black.

Not sure what that means. It just sounded good in my head.

Pregnant? ~ But I Have the Mirena.

2011-10-21T19:05:00.000-05:00

This nearly brought tears to my eyes. Can you guys please help a sister out?

I got the Mirena about 4 years ago after having my son. Since then, my periods have been pretty much non-existent. I may spot for a day or two and that’s it until the next month. The last few weeks, I’ve been experiencing a lot of fatigue and after my manager told me she had a dream that someone was pregnant, I made an appointment with the gynecologist. The last time she had a dream like that, I along with two of her nieces, were pregnant at the same time. I told the nurse and doctor that I wanted to make sure that the Mirena was still in place and that it was still working. They didn’t do a urine test and they didn’t draw blood. All they did was tell me my blood pressure was high, fondle around in my “you hoo” and do a pap smear for STDs. They told me I had a year to decide if I wanted another baby, if I wanted another Mirena or if I wanted to get my tubes tied. A week later, the spotting started and actually lasted an entire week. Like I said before, prior to going to the doctor, I’ve been feeling all kinds of crazy. I’ve been having a lot of headaches and my back hurt for about three days in a row. I’ve been getting dizzy and my right eye felt like it was going to jump out of the socket the other day. I read a couple of articles about the odds of getting pregnant with the Mirena and came across numerous sites where women have gotten pregnant after having the Mirena for 3 months to 3 years. I tried to convince myself that I was just now experiencing side effects of the Mirena but I remember how I felt the last time I was pregnant and this feels nearly the same.

Yesterday, the results from the Pap smear came in the mail saying that everything was fine but last night my lower abdomen started feeling heavy and that’s when my mental alarm went off. This morning I took a home pregnancy test and I wasn’t too surprised when “pregnant” popped up in the little window.

Everyone has been telling me for years that my son needs a sibling and I have been turning my nose up at the thought. I can’t deal with another baby because my patience is getting shorter and shorter, I don’t have the money to pay for childcare and daddy and my dude’s mom are both in their sixties and probably too old to deal with a newborn.

Another thing for me to worry about is the fact that the Mirena will more than likely cause complications. I may either have a miscarriage or the baby may suffer some type of illness. The Mirena was made to do something to the lining of the uterus and if the baby can’t grow right, I may lose it. Even if I carry the baby as close to full term as possible, she/he may suffer developmental damage because the baby is basically trying to grow around a foreign object that was supposed to prevent its existence in the first place.

Now I’m at a point in my life that I thought about briefly with my first pregnancy. Abortion. I certainly don’t like the idea of having an abortion but I hate the idea of having a miscarriage after making up my mind to keep the child. As mentioned before, my patience is getting shorter and shorter so I know I wouldn’t be able to deal with a disabled child either.

I told my dude that if I am really pregnant that I am thinking about having an abortion. He told me to let him think about it and then we’ll sit down and talk about it together. Heck, he can’t take care of the two he has and I’m struggling with the one I already have, adding another, possibly disabled, child to the scenario would not be a good thing.

A Romantic Relationship ~ My Wants and My Role

2011-10-18T21:06:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine asked me to write down what I want from a relationship and what I think my role should be. After reading, he agreed with some of the points and STRONGLY disagreed with some of the others. I expected that, so I was only bent out of shape a little.

What I want from a relationship…

Communication
I would like a man that I can share my feelings, ideas and interests with. I mean, I am not the type of person that just complains and whines about stuff for the heck of it. If I have a problem, I want to be able to talk to my man about it without him making me feel like its frivolous. I want my man to feel he can share whatever is on his mind with me as well. I’m pretty open-minded. (I’ll try my best to refrain from making any of my signature facial expressions as he bears his sole.) I want my man and I to be each other’s #1 fan. Whether laughing and joking or engaging in a serious discussion, I would like for both of us to be able to speak freely and honestly, yet respectfully. I am not a mind reader and I don’t expect my man to be one either. If we don’t let each other know our likes and dislikes we’ll probably end up with more sad or angry times than happy ones.

Friendship/Quality Time
I believe friendship is a very important part of a relationship. If I can barely stand to be around the guy or only want to be around him when I need something (or want something) what’s the point? Going out and having a nice time is good, but as long as we can spend some kind of quality time together, I’m happy.

Intimacy
Sex is great! (I’ll get into more detail about that in a moment.) Being talked softly to or touched gently (or roughly, depending on my mood) would bring me to climax a lot quicker than someone just ramming into me and saying “let me know when you get one”. (More times than not, I end up lying to Mr. Wambam and pretending I got one but…anyway.) I like kissing and being kissed. I like touching and being touched. I like hugging and being hugged. Well, you get the picture. I’m touchy feely most of the time. And I like being around someone who treats me like he really wants me.

Sex
Like I mentioned before, sex is great. I like having sex. Some may call it being a freak or a nympho but of course women are usually branded negatively by those names. I don’t see anything wrong with a woman that has a big sexual appetite but hey that’s my opinion. I do realize that the older people get, the less their desire for sex becomes. Sometimes health issues make having sex nearly impossible. In my opinion, as long as the intimacy is there, my sexual appetite will be pretty much satisfied because there is definitely more than one way to get the job done.

What is my role as the woman?

As the woman, I do believe that I should allow the man to be the man in the relationship. I would like to be given the opportunity to express my feelings about something but I do realize that the final decision should be the man’s. Even though this is my philosophy in my head, I have rarely had the opportunity to let this philosophy manifest within my relationships. Most men these days don’t know how to be men which made me have to step up and practically play both roles until I got fed up and called it quits. I believe in supporting my man but not to the point of taking care of him, unless he’s sick. I mean I don’t mind “helping a brother out” but when his needs attempt to outweigh my needs or the needs of my child that is definitely a “hold up, wait a minute” moment. I will respect my man both in public as well as in private. I do not believe in “busting folks out” in front of friends, family or complete strangers. I do try to do things to put a smile on my man’s face. I used to use the term “make him happy” but if he is not happy with himself, nothing I say or do will make him happy. Hopefully whatever I do for him will add to the happiness he already possesses.

In conclusion…

Sometimes I do have a smart mouth but that has come with age, as the result of the people that I have been around and my experiences. If I come across disrespectful that is not my intention. It is more of a defense mechanism. I spent too many years following the wrong people blindly (and silently). With a little time, I can change my negative way of thinking and try to focus on developing a more positive outlook on relationships and life in general. I believe that I am a good woman who has just been hurt more times than I care to mention. I am not stupid. I can recognize a good man when I see him, even if I do have to overlook certain personality traits and deal with some things that I am not used to in order to reap the benefits of a relationship with that good man.

No NaNo For Me

2011-10-16T14:09:00.003-05:00

Around this time last year, I was getting ready for NaNoWriMo. For those of you that don't know, that's an acronym that stands for National Novel Writing Month. I have several blog posts about it if you want to learn more. Anyway...

I'm not doing NaNo this year for a couple of reasons. Number one, I have three novels in progress in various stages of completion. One of them, I am ashamed to say, has been on my to do list since 2001. Now I've revamped it a number of times by changing the title and practically changing the whole story line to fit what I think someone would really want to read. Quintina Mitchell's story, Her Leftovers, is the book that has plagued me for a decade. From the responses I've been getting to the excerpts that I've posted, I think I have a pretty good story, I've just got to make up in my mind to just be done with it already and let the readers tell me if they like the whole thing.

The other two works in progress are my NaNo projects from the two previous years. Sassy Johnson, the private detective and Cole Slaw, the bounty hunter, have been battling for attention the last couple of years. They both want me to finish their stories ASAP but I haven't because well... I don't know why. Probably because I keep going back to Her Leftovers. So if I can't decide which one of these books to focus on, what's the point of starting another one. Since I like all three main characters, the next book would probably be a part two to one of these projects.

The next reason why I'm not doing NaNo this year is because of my crafting business. It's getting cold and everyone is hounding me about hats and scarves. I've been getting a lot of orders for the jewelry too so my spare time is usually spent surrounded by beads or yarn. It's tiring but I love it. You can check out some of my Youtube videos (www.youtube.com/suzyquzy) and the photos on my Facebook(http://www.facebook.com/susienmccray) page if you want to see the different items I have made.

Speaking of YouTube, I have been trying to document my hair growth since I've been natural. My hair is now longer than it was right before I started growing the relaxer out. My goal is to get it to the length and thickness that it was in high school. I'm almost there, yayyy! Maybe by next May I will have reached my goal, which will be the 2 year anniversary of being completely natural.

Despite all of these things I'm doing besides writing, I still think about writing. Writing was my first love and I will always go back to it (Hence this blog post.) One day I'll slap myself upside the head and complete at least one of these books. If I do it before next October, I will definitely start prepping for NaNo.

Boy

Who can I talk to about adding more hours to my day? Mary J. Blige is loving her man 25/8 (25 hours/8 days a week) so maybe I can get 29/12. Just a thought.

To all of you who will be NaNo-ing this year, I wish you the best of luck.

Wearing White After Labor Day

2011-08-29T22:16:00.001-05:00

My friend, Dorothy, and I were walking down the aisle at work when we ran into two other coworkers. Ms. Paulette was decked out in her usual attire--all purple everything. The lady that was with her, whose name I don't know, had on an all white outfit. Dorothy told the lady in white that she looked nice and she responded, "Thanks. I figured I'd go ahead and wear it one last time." I smiled and nodded but I was thinking, huh? The outfit didn't look like it was too little and about to burst at the seams so what was she talking about.

As Dorothy and I walked away, it finally dawned on me what the lady in white meant. The Labor Day weekend is fast approaching and she wanted to wear her outfit before it became taboo to do so.

For the rest of the day I wondered about the "don't wear white after Labor Day" tradition. I even asked some of my other co-workers what the big deal was. I mean I had heard about it all my life but I didn't take it very seriously. Heck my grandmother forbade me to wear red because she said it was the devil or Jezebel-like or something. (She would smack me with her cane if she could see this red fro on my head, but I digress...)

I asked Sandra, who sits in the cubicle across from me, her opinion about the issue. She said that since they make white winter clothes, including a leather white skirt set that a friend of hers has, she didn't see anything wrong with wearing white or pastels during the fall and winter months.

Three other female coworkers said that they didn't know where the tradition originated but they were always taught that it was safe to wear off-white, cream, and winter white (whatever that means), just not plain white.

I sat down and continued to work but the notion wouldn't stop nagging at me until I made up my mind to write this blog post.

Last year, I asked a young lady on Twitter about this "no white" thing. I can't remember her exact words but I do remember feeling kind of dumb and backwoods-ish after she finished her spiel.

Sandra told me to just Google it so I did and found a number of sites that gave me a lot more info than I bargained for. It talked about people wearing white during the summer to keep cool but not in the winter because it wouldn't keep them warm enough. They also mentioned that they didn't want to mess up their white duds during the rainy and sometimes muddy months. As I continued to read, I happened across another reason. Back in the day, early 20th century, middle and upper class people used the "rule" to differentiate themselves from the poor underprivileged souls who weren't worthy of being in their hoity-toity presence if they didn't know about the only wearing white between the beginning of spring and Labor Day thing-a-ma-jig. This had to do with knowing which fork goes with which dish too but I don't get that either. *shrug*

This all sounds like a bunch of bull... spit to me.

Personally, I wear any color at any time as long as its clean and not so tight I have to hold my breath most of the day to keep from bursting it wide open. But hey, that's me.

What are your views?

Are you for or against wearing white after Labor Day?

What I've Been Up To

2011-08-13T16:40:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know, I haven't blogged for a while. Please believe that I have not just been sitting around twiddling my thumbs. Before my addiction to social media, I was a very avid crafter. From crochet, to cross-stitch to working with foam sheets to scrapbooking, I never had a dull moment. Most recently, I took an interest in jewelry making. I have a few videos dedicated to it on my YouTube channel (click the "I love YouTube" button to the left).

Until the last few months, I wasn't that into jewelry but a coworker of mine began selling beaded bracelets and earrings. I became one of her most loyal customers until I requested something that she didn't have time to produce--hoop earrings. Having been patient for several weeks I decided to buy some wire, tools and beads and made my own earrings.

After I made that first pair I went crazy making earrings to match the clothes in my closet. Then I thought, "Hey, I need some bracelets to match all of these earrings."

Now I never set out to start a business but I seem to be heading in that direction. Everything I wear to work, I get one or two or ten people that want the same or a similar item. So far I've only been making custom jewerly that the customers request but I'm probably going to start doing a feature item a week where I make at least six of one items to see how many people will buy it..

One thing I'm going to have to learn is to not give everyone credit. I try to do POD (pay on delivery) but some folks don't pay when I deliver. Yeah, I know everybody's money is funny, but I don't have the money to make stuff for free. I mean if it was for advertising purposes, and the person referred a few people to me, I could give them a free item every so often. Otherwise, I need my money honey.

To avoid not receiving payment, I'll just let people know when I have their items and tell them I'll deliver it whenever they are ready for it. People with common sense know that means, "have my money ready". I'll see how this jewelry making thing pans out over the next couple of months.

I plan to start making hats and scarves again for the winter. The last time I did that was maybe 6 or 7 years ago. I stopped because I was working two jobs and got overwhelmed with orders. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up with the demands this time.

Whew!!!

I promise I haven't completely stopped writing. Sometimes I have to live a little bit to have something to write about. Stay tuned.

Cookie Explosion

2011-06-18T00:15:00.002-05:00

This is an exerpt from one of my three works in progress (#WIP) about a female bond enforcer by the name of Nicole Slawyer ("Cole Slaw" for short). Let me know what you think of this story.

I want kids but I'm kinda afraid that I'll break them. Not that I'm a child abuser or anything, it's just that kids always seem to get sick in my presence. I think it's me because when I'm around them and their parents, they are perfectly healthy. As soon as I get them home alone with me, their nose starts running; they get a stomachache and/or throw up all over the place.

This is so not an exaggeration. My godson, lil Ron, was the first kid I babysat when he was about 5 years old. His parents wanted some alone time. Baby Tina was at Ronald's parents’ house, and I volunteered to watch Ron since he was bigger. They said it would be an all-nighter and they asked if I minded.

Joe was out of town visiting some of his relatives that I didn’t like, so I welcomed the company. But now that I look back, he may have been getting down and dirty with his current boo, Paul, someplace. That's another story for another day.

"Of course I don't mind. Go on, have a good time. But don't make another one of these just yet okay." I said. Meosha and Ronald just laughed.

My feathered friend,Tipsy and I were able to keep Ron's attention for about ten minutes before he burst into tears, begging for his mama. I tried to explain to him that he would be spending a little time with Auntie Cole and that he would see mama and daddy as soon as they came back to get him. His bottom lip shivered but he stopped crying.

"You wanna help me make some cookies?" I asked him.

"Yaaayyy cookies!"

So I pulled out the bucket of cookie dough that I bought from some lady Pop-Pop knows. I usually don't buy stuff like that from any old body, but this was a fund raising type thing, probably the church building fund or something like that.

Anyway, I read the directions on the side of the bucket that explained how much dough you should scoop on the cookie sheet to make a regular sized cookie. If I followed the instructions I would be eating about 10 of those tiny cookies, so I decided to make bigger cookies. So instead of a dozen cookies, I made 4 big ones. Ron's eyes were big as let him look at the cookies before sliding them into the oven. Apparently, Chef Meosha didn't make cookies that big.

"Relax, kid. I promise this way is much better."

Ron smiled and hugged my leg, and went in search of toys to play with until the cookies got done. I set the timer on the oven just in case I forgot that I was cooking, but the aroma coming from the oven filled the whole duplex. Even my neighbors from next door knocked on the door asking what I was cooking.

"We smelled chocolate and looked outside and didn't see either one of your friends’ cars in the drive way so we were making sure everything was okay."

It was always a major even when I turned on a stove. I guess my neighbors thought that someone in the family had died and I was making a dish for the repast. Meosha and my boo, Marcus, had me spoiled.

"Everything's fine. Just babysitting."

That brought and even bigger look of concern. They had never seen me with a kid and probably didn't think I could handle it. I assured them that everything was under control and they told me to knock on the door if I needed anything.

Lil Ron and I sat at the kitchen table staring at the oven with our heads on our propped up hands. As soon as the timer went off we jumped up. I grabbed the oven-mitts and pulled out the mega-large chocolate cookies.

"I'll give you one now and if you eat that I'll give you the other one," I said to Ron.

I placed both of my cookies on my plate. Then I went to fridge, grabbed the half gallon of milk, and poured both of us a glass full. Lil Ron gobbled his cookie down quickly and was ready for the other before I was halfway through with my first one. I put the other one on his plate and he gobbled it down too. He drank all of his milk and sat there looking as if he wanted to attack me for mine. I gave him half of my second one. He sat back rubbing his stomach looking really satisfied.

"You wanna watch cartoons?" I asked him. He nodded his head vigorously. I had him settled on the couch watching a SpongeBob DVD that was in his bag.

I was looking at my empty plate wanting to make more cookies but not wanting to share them with Lil Ron. About 30 minutes passed and then I heard retching coming from the living room. It was Lil Ron hacking and then hurling bits of chocolate chip cookie and milk all over the couch.

Tipsy was squawking, "He's blowing up. He's blowing up."

And Ron did indeed look like he was blowing up all over the place. It took me a minute to jump into action and run to the closet and retrieve the mop bucket. Of course by the time I placed it in front of him, only yellow stomach acid was coming out.

After it looked like Ron was finished, I helped him to the bathroom and took off the soiled clothes. The poor kid had messed his pants as well, which brought tears to my eyes.

"Its okay, Auntie Cole. They were good going down." Then he patted my face. I could feel the cookie gook residue that his little hands left on my cheek and wanted to hurl myself.

While Lil Ron was in the bath tub, I dismantled the couch cushions and put everything that could be washed in the machine. I grabbed Pine-Sol and scrubbed down the foam cushions and leaned them up against the wall and turned on an oscillating fan that blew air on both of them simultaneously.

When I went back to check on Lil Ron, he looked as if he was nodding off as he sat in the murky water. I called his name and he woke up. I already felt bad about giving him all of those cookies; I was not about to let him drown in the tub. I helped Lil Ron dry off and put on pajamas. I laid him in the daybed in my office and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I never told Meosha and Ronald about Lil Ron getting sick. Apparently he hadn’t either because he and Tina spent the night with me a few more times over the years until they reached their teens. I guess they stopped wanting to eat junk food until they threw up. Which was great for me, I had to buy a new couch because the old one had faded from all of the washing.

Kids were too much work. Believe it or not, chasing criminals was so much easier.

My Dating Dilemma

2011-06-07T12:45:00.002-05:00

I have a habit of attracting men who are down on their luck: no job, no car, living with family or fresh out of jail. Everyone goes through hard times but I would like to date someone that’s not looking for someone to “help a brother out”.

To get help with my dilemma, I sought advice from this lady that I follow on Twitter @TheDatingTruth. According to her website, Miss Solomon offers practical dating advice that could make even the most clueless guy get a date. She is very straightforward when offering her opinion to help single men and women have better dating, networking and social experiences.

Here are the tips that she told me to follow if I want to attract stable guys on their grind:

Tip #1
Go where they go. Stable men find ways to fill their free time. Join clubs, networks and boards.

Tip #2
Ask Questions—kids, career, living arrangements, convictions? Find this out before you give your number. Its okay to judge it’s your life.

Tip #3
Get yourself together. Like attracts like. If you’re stable, you can recognize the signs of stability. Surround yourself with stable people.

Tip #4
Have a routine. If people (men) start seeing you at the store, gas station, on the train (bus) on a regular basis, they’ll eventually hit on you.

Tip #5
Break ties with negativity. Happiness attracts the best people. When you’re happy it’s a magnetism few men resist—you’ll attract great men.

I found a lot of truth (pun intended) in all of these tips, but I did have one question. If I’m out somewhere and I meet a guy that I’m interested in and who’s interested in me, but I don’t have time to ask him his whole life story, what’s wrong with giving him my number? If I find out later that I don’t like him, I’ll just stop taking his calls. Should I just pass up the opportunity to meet a great guy?

Her response—“It’s not an opportunity if it’s someone you don’t want anyway. Missing out on a guy is like missing out on a sale. There will be another one and you’ll probably find something (someone) better anyway.”

Makes a lot of sense to me, I hope I can take heed to this advice. It sure would keep me from dealing with a lot of unnecessary foolishness.

Check out http://www.thedatingtruth.com/ to get more information about dating, men, sex and relationships.

Confrontation

2011-05-08T12:09:00.000-05:00

This is another installment to "Her Leftovers", after the fight between Quintina and Tamesha.

Quintina was sitting on the couch in the living room when Cortez made it home. He had a few bags of food and a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he struggled not to drop before heading to the kitchen. It was dark in the room so Cortez was startled when Quintina called out to him.

"Hey baby," Cortez said, turning to her. Quintina slapped Cortez across his eyes hard enough to blind him. He dropped everything to the floor and covered his face, "What the f...?"

"Since you love her so much, pack your shit and go over there," Quintina sneered.

"Quintina, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Tamesha. Yeah, your girlfriend sent me a birthday present. Let me show you." Cortez followed her to their bedroom.

Quintina grabbed the remote and pressed play. She turned the volume up. Cortez rubbed his eyes and squinted at the tv. His bloodshot eyes got big as goose eggs and then filled with tears. "Baby..."

"I don't want to hear it. Get out!"

"But this is my place."

Quintina pulled her gun from the shoe box, pointed it at Cortez and cocked it. "You've got 15 minutes." He hurriedly gathered as much as he could stuff in a gym bag and left.

After Cortez was gone, Quintina collapsed to the floor and began to sob. She had no idea what she would do next. The obvious choice was divorce but she wasn't sure if she really wanted to be completely through with Cortez yet. She would give it some thought.

Quintina moped around for about an hour then cleaned up all of the items that Cortez had dropped. Everything that was salvageable was stored away and the broken items were thrashed. The flowers were fine but she shoved them into the garbage disposal. She took a shower, got dressed in a flattering red dress and tried to camoflaug the bruises on her face. Satisfied with her results, she called SaLynne and asked her if she wanted to go out.

"Sure, where do you want to go?"

"Some place where there are some fine men with real jobs."

"Uh oh. Sounds like Cortez is going to have some competition."

Quintina laughed out loud. "Girl, you have no idea. Come get me, I may not be able to drive home later."

"Quin, what's up with you?" SaLynne sounded puzzled.

"I'll tell you when you get here."

Are You a Nag?

2011-05-03T21:36:00.000-05:00

I’ve never played the nagging girlfriend role in any of my relationships. If I asked my boo to do something once or twice and he doesn't do it, I do it myself or get someone else to do it. My patience is too short to keep begging someone to take out the garbage, cut the grass, wash the car, or pay the dang light bill.

The nagging has come from the guys in my life. Well, mostly from one particular guy, I’ll call him Lee. He and I haven’t been in a real relationship since 1999, but that hasn’t stopped him from bugging the HELL out of me for one reason or another.

• “You work too much.”

• “How come you don’t call me?”

• “How come you don’t come see me?”

• “Can I come spend the night?”

• “Can me and my kids come spend the weekend with you and D?”

• “Are we going to do it soon?”

• “Bring me a beer and a box of black n mild’s.”

The list goes on and on.

Why? Well, I guess I’ve got that come back, LOL. But for real though, in 2008, I made the mistake of telling Lee that I would marry him in December of 2012. Now, the agreement was that he and I would have ourselves together by then. I was hoping to have my debt to income ratio down to at least 50/50 and hopefully have lost a significant amount of weight so I wouldn’t look like a whale walking down the aisle. He was supposed to have lived on his own for at least one year (not with parents, siblings, cousins or smoking/drinking buddies). Lee should also have a better job that would allow him to at least be able to pay the rent while I handled the other bills. I would work on my cooking skills and he would limit his drinking.

It is now May of 2011, and I have not lost weight, I’ve added more student loans to my pile and my cookbooks are collecting dust in the kitchen drawer (Thank God for my daddy). Lee has no job, lives with his mom, and has acquired a drinking and driving charge which has his CDL license in jeopardy. Great couple huh? Hell no. Time is ticking down and it doesn’t look like either one of us is going to be on point by the end of next year. I’ve come to the realization that maybe it’s not time for me to get married or maybe he isn’t the right guy for me. Lee on the other hand makes it his business to at least call me, text me or Facebook me to ask if the wedding is still on and why I haven’t returned any of his calls. The last time he sent me a note, I told him that when I get off of work, that I don’t feel like talking to anybody and that I wish I could leave my son at daddy’s house all week and only see him on the weekends. Boy oh boy, all he could say was “ok” to that. Maybe he thinks I’m having a nervous breakdown or something. At this point, I don’t really care what he thinks; he really gets on my nerves so bad. If Lee finds a chick that can put up with him, heck I’ll pay for their wedding reception myself. I should probably tell him that to see what he says. Maybe he’ll get curious and read this blog post when it pops up in my Facebook profile.

Who is or has been the nag in your relationship? If it's you, stop it, NOW!!

She Ain't Worth It ~ Part 2

2011-04-30T23:36:00.000-05:00

Here's part two of this story. Just like last week, this story has a lot of profanity in it. So if you're sensitive about that you may want to steer clear, or read another post (smile). All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Once Quintina had put on her jeans and t-shirt, she shoved the shoe box under her arm, grabbed her purse in one hand and her keys in the other. She ran down the stairs and out the door. Quin, where are you going? She thought. You know you are not supposed to be drinking and driving. Fuck that, this is not something that I’m gonna let slide.

Quintina got off I240 at the Hollywood exit and went north. When she reached Dalana’s house on Brookmeade, she started beating on the door like she was the police.

“Hold on, goddammit,” Dalana yelled. When she opened the door and saw that it was Quintina, she just stepped back and let her in. “Quin, why are you looking all torn up on your birthday?”

“I’m on a rampage. Call that Tamesha bitch. I got a few choice words that I want to say to her,” Quintina said throwing her purse and keys on the couch. She had left her gun in the car under the passenger seat.

“What happened? She called the house or something?”

“Naw that bitch was in my house, in my bed, fucking my husband.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“The raunchy bitch sent me a tape of them. You remember when I told you that we had set the camcorder set up in the bedroom.” Quintina had started pacing back and forth across the room. Then she went into the kitchen and got one of Dalana’s coolers out of the refrigerator.

“Yeah, I remember. Shit, those are some bold muthafuckas. See, this is your own damn fault. If you hadn’t have been letting Tez get away with all that shit, this would have never happened. They think that you’ll never do anything.”

“I don’t think Cortez knew she was taping it. It looked like he was too torn up to even pay attention to anything she was doing besides freaking on him.”

“Don’t start making excuses for that niggah. That’s what you always do. Whether he knew she was taping it or not, he still fucked her.”

“I know. Get that bitch on the phone.”

“She’s at Schrhonda’s place right now,” Dalana said picking up the phone. “I need to pop some popcorn, this is gonna be better than the Tyson vs. Holyfield fight.”

Quintina was standing in the doorway when Schrhonda and Tamesha arrived. Tamesha automatically got all up in Quintina’s face. She started bragging about how she had Quintina’s man wrapped around her little finger and how she can take Cortez from Quintina whenever she got ready. Quintina tried her best to keep her composure but she couldn’t maintain. She finally got fed up with all the bullshit that Tamesha was shooting off about and suddenly grabbed a handful of Tamesha’s hair and punched her in the face. Then she pushed her out the door and let her fall down the steps onto the concrete carport.

After Tamesha had hit the ground, Quintina noticed that she had a big plug of her hair in her hand. She looked at Tamesha’s head and immediately noticed the patch where the hair had come from. Quintina almost started laughing before Tamesha stumbled to her feet, holding her head and cursing.

“Bitch, you got me fucked up.” Then she punched Quintina in the mid-section, making her doubled over in pain. Tamesha began to rant and rave again while Quintina was trying to recover. She had all sorts of murderous thoughts going through her mind but couldn’t figure out how she could carry them out without it resulting in a 25 to life prison sentence.

“Bitch, Cortez is my man first, hoe. If it wasn’t for your square ass, I would be Mrs. Cortez Robinson. But that’s alright though. I can still get the dick whenever I want it. You think that was the first time? Oh no, honey. We have been fucking since day one. He came over my house the first night y’all met at that basketball game. Yeah, he had you thinking there wasn’t anything between us. That’s just how we do it. Even though he acts hard he can’t live without this pussy. Now, what do you have to say about that?”

Quintina finally straightened up and looked Tamesha dead in the eyes. Tears partially impaired Quintina’s vision but she wiped them away. Quintina felt as if she were moving in slow motion. It was sort of like her body was moving by itself because it surprised even her when she rushed into Tamesha like a bull. When Tamesha hit the ground with a loud thump, she moaned in agony. Then Quintina straddled her and began to repeatedly pound her fists into Tamesha’s face.

She talked to her in a surprisingly calm voice, almost scary. “You know what, hoe? You can have that hoe-ish ass niggahs. I don’t need all this drama. I hope all the dick you’ve been getting over the years has been worth this ass whipping. Both of you selfish motherfuckers deserve each other.”

Quintina pounded until her arms got tired and her fists began to throb. Once on her feet, she coughed up a big blob of phlegm and spit it in Tamesha’s face. “I hope you two have a wonderful and fulfilling life together.” Then she began walking slowly towards her car. Before Quintina could reach her car door—SMACK, she arched her back in pain and turned around quickly. She saw that Dalana was holding Tamesha who had a bat in her hand. Tamesha didn’t say a word; she just stared at Quintina through her swollen eyelids.

Quintina remembered seeing the bat propped against the wall under the carport when she and Tamesha had come out of the house but was too distracted to worry about where it came from. She knew it hadn’t been there when she first arrived at Dalana’s house. Or was it? She was too tired to figure it out.

“Bitch, I ought to shoot your ugly ass right now but I ain’t trying to be going to jail for no piece of shit like you,” Quintina said opening her car door and sliding in.

Shoo Bugaboo

2011-04-27T22:39:00.000-05:00

If you have no idea what a bugaboo is, let me explain. There was a guy that was interested in me but he called too much and he wanted to come over my house all the time and he would constantly asked me when we were going to have sex. The only “date” we went on was when we went down by the river. I sat in the car and he sat on the bank until a rat ran across his foot and made him drop his beer. He was ready to go home after that.

The http://www.urbandictionary.com/ has several different definitions for a bugaboo but this seems to fit my situation perfectly.

I mean this guy was a 41 year old teenager. He would run back and forth from my house to his mom’s house three or four times a day talking about he was board. When I pulled into the driveway, he instantly came outside and walked across the street as if he was sitting right in front of the door or window waiting on me to get home. Sometimes he would be sitting on the porch or in his car watching my house. He said his mother told him that he smothers people and he asked me if I agreed. When I told him yes, he got all bent out of shape.

Never in my life had I known a guy that constantly fished for compliments.

Dude: “I’m ugly ain’t it? Don’t you think I’m ugly?”

Me: “No, you’re not ugly.”

Then he’d turn around with his butt to me.

Dude: “I’m fine ain’t it? My cousin said that all of the men in my family were fine.”

Me: “Well, you’re attractive.”

In all actuality, he was ugly and he was not fine at all. He had hazel eyes but the bloodshot practically made his eyes look like two big brown blobs. Sometimes he would wear the same clothes two days in a row. He smelled like beer every day no matter what time it was. Even when he said that he had just gotten out of the shower, he smelled like beer.

He was also a bum. He had no job and no prospects. Dude couldn’t go job hunting (even if he wanted to) because his license was suspended for a DUI. Plus he hadn’t paid the guy down the street for the car and I think he was afraid he would get pulled over and get the car taken. Every day he asked me or several of the other neighbors to buy him beer when his mama didn’t buy him any. Dude begged for money to add minutes to his cellphone. And I hear he tried to pay his phone bill with a check that he found in the car that the guy down the street gave him. (Not sure how true that was but hey you never know.) One day all I had was a bag of breaded chicken patties in my freezer, about six of them. He begged for those. And came back the next day asking me what I was cooking.

Like I said, I put up with this for a week and a week only. I told him that THIS whatever THIS was wasn’t going to work because he required more of me than I could give. “What do you mean?” he asked. I told him that the constant sex talk was getting on my nerves but it was so much more than that. Don’t get me wrong, if I had really been into him, honey child he wouldn’t have had to ask. But he already knew why I wasn’t that into him. I had told him several times throughout that week until I got tired. Then D started telling him he smelled like beer. It had nothing to do with him hearing me say it because I never said it around D. My son is very perceptive and not afraid to speak whatever is on his mind.

Not a day passed that Dude didn’t ask me when I would have sex with him or why I was acting like I didn’t want him. It was so annoying. Everything about him annoyed me. His walk, the way he talked, his smell, the stupid things he said, foolishness all the way around.

I had never in my life met a guy in his forties with so many strikes against him. And what’s sad is that he thought he was a catch. He really thought he had it going on with his drunk, no job having, begging, want to fine behind.

Goodbye bugaboo and good riddance.

She Ain't Worth It ~ Part 1

2011-04-24T20:30:00.001-05:00

I usually don’t write in third person but I decided to switch it up a little bit. I’m revisiting a scene in “Her Leftovers” where Tamesha decides to let her presence be known. WARNING: There is quite a bit of swearing in this story.

~ Let me know what you think. All feedback is welcome. ~

“Quintina, you didn’t have to come to work on your birthday. I told you that you could take off since you did such a good presentation at the conference in Atlanta,” Craig said walking into Quintina’s office with a bouquet of roses and a bag with Happy Birthday printed on it.

“I just wanted to look over these reports before I turned them in. I’ll be leaving after lunch.” Quintina’s attention was focused on the computer so she didn’t see what Craig was carrying until she looked up. “What’s that you got there?”

“Oh, the guy just dropped this off so I decided that I would bring it in for you. Cortez is so romantic, I wanna grow up and be just like him,” Craig said wiping away imaginary tears.

“Thanks Craig, with your silly self.”

“No problem Mrs. Robinson,” he said as he walked out of her office and closed the door behind him.

Quintina played it cool until her boss walked out then she pulled the light blue bag with white letters on it to her and pulled out the white and blue tissue paper. Cortez must have gotten somebody to help him with this because he’s never took the time to find tissue to match the gift bag, she thought. When she had finally gotten all of the tissue unraveled, she found a video tape. I wonder what’s on it. Dalana did say that she told Cortez that I wanted him to learn how to strip for me; maybe that’s what it is.

When Quintina got home she ran straight to her bedroom so she could look at her present. She put the tape in the VCR and walked over to the nightstand and pushed play on the remote. At first she just saw Cortez laying on the bed smoking. That ain’t no cigarette, that’s a blunt, I’m gonna kick his ass. Then she saw a dark skinned woman get in the bed with him. What the fuck? They began kissing and touching each other. He turned the blunt around and put the lit end in his mouth and put his mouth to her nose and blew the smoke in. I can’t believe this shit. I need a drink.

Quintina paused the foolery and went downstairs to the kitchen and pulled Cortez’s bottle of vodka out of the freezer. She got a Sprite out of the refrigerator and poured some of it into a plastic blue cup. She had intended on making her drink half liquor half soda but she decided to grab another cup and fill it to the rim with vodka. She took a swallow of her drink. It burned going down but it wasn’t nowhere near as uncomfortable as it would have been under normal circumstances. She was already on fire.

When Quintina got back up to her room and restarted the tape, the first thing she saw was the woman get up and go over to her dresser and pick up the bottle of Motion Lotion that Quintina and Cortez used quite frequently. Quintina finally got a good look at the skeezer and realized that it was none other than, Tamesha. That bitch! Tamesha got back into bed with Cortez and opened the bottle pouring some of the strawberry flavored lotion on her hand and rubbing it on his penis. Then Tamesha lowered her head and filled her mouth. I can’t believe they’re doing this in my house, in my bed. I want to kill them so bad, but neither one of them are worth going to jail over.

Quintina had finished her drink when she noticed that there was music playing in the background on the tape. Then, as if right on cue, Tamesha pulled away from Cortez’s groin and walked over to the radio. She turned up the volume a few notches, looked at the camera, then sauntered over and turned her ass to the camera. No that bitch didn’t just jiggle her flabby ass butt cheeks in my face. She went over and climbed on top of Cortez, facing the camera so Quintina could see the expression on her face. …Still in love with… Quintina threw her cup toward the TV, barely missing the screen.

“Our fucking wedding song! Aw, it’s on now,” Quintina yelled out loud. She reached under the bed and pulled out the shoe box that she kept her loaded .45 millimeter in and put it on the bed so she would remember to take it with her. But first she had to change into her beat down clothes.

Relationship Stance: Traditional vs Modern

2011-04-19T20:43:00.001-05:00

I guess my view of how a relationship should be is in between traditional and modern. I mean, every guy I date knows how to cook so we take turns doing that. As far as working and paying bills, I think we should do that together as well. I’ve never had the desire to be a housewife, but I would have liked to stay at home with my son his first two years but I wasn’t in a position to do so because I’m a single mother. I had a career before my son was born so I couldn’t just stop working, I didn’t have that big of a support team.

My original plan was to be married before I had a child but that didn’t transpire, so I’m making the best of it. Now I have one guy who seriously wants to marry me but he has no job and he lives with his mom. He’s never lived on his own, well let me clarify that. He’s had roommates, live-in girlfriends, a brother and cousins that he’s shared a place with. There was never a time when he was the only one responsible for taking care of all the bills. I have a problem with that. I’ve worked continuously since my last two months in high school (17 years ago) and I have lived on my own for more than half of that time. Yeah, it is hard out here for a sister but I do what I gotta do.

Over the years, I’ve found myself in relationships with guys that didn’t have a job when I met them but I got with them anyway thinking that maybe I could help them get on their feet. I learned the hard way that some guys really don’t want to work. They rather stay at home and keep the house clean and cook while the woman goes to work. This is where my traditional views come in. I do not consider a man the head of my household if he cannot pay the house note. Some women have a problem with allowing the man to make most of the decisions for the household, but I don’t if I believe that he will do what is best for the family. I mean, if we have been together for a while and the guy loses his job, I won’t kick him out because he has shown me that he wants to pull his weight. Of course, he’s gonna have to go do something to bring in some money: cut grass, wash cars work at McDonalds—until he finds something better.

I talked to a lady on Twitter a few days ago and she said she shared my views with a couple of guys and they said they couldn’t be with a woman that couldn’t hold it down. Now that made me mad because either she or they didn’t read all of my tweets or those guys are just bums. I go to work every day and I work too hard and put up with too much mess at work to come home and look up in the face of some guy that can’t even pay the damn phone or cable bills. That makes me hot all over. If the fact that I won’t take care of a man the reason why I’m single, I’ll be single for life. I’m not teaching my son that he’s supposed to stay at home while his wife goes to work every day. They should be working together to have something.

Despite my traditional views, I don’t even think it’s a good idea for a woman not to have some kind of job. She needs to be selling Avon, doing hair or babysitting to bring some money in. My dad always told me that an idle mind is the devil’s workshop. This means, if a person doesn’t have anything constructive to do, they will be thinking of all kinds of devilment to do.

These are my opinions but everyone is entitled to their own. Please share your views with me.

Once Was Blind ~ Part 2

2011-04-16T21:00:00.000-05:00

“This is Roshelle’s first night out and you know she wants to spend some time with me,” Darnell said. He had called me at work so I couldn’t curse him out like I wanted to.

“Do you want to come over and hang out with us?” he asked.

I declined. I knew she wanted to have sex with him and I wasn’t about to sit there and watch them, and I definitely wasn’t going to participate in any freaky stuff.

My dad helped us move that next day. Once we got most of the furniture into the house, we all just sat around trying to catch our breath. I went in what was to be Darnell’s room, to think about what I had gotten myself into when Daddy walked in.

“Hey, Baby?” he asked.

“What’s up?”

“You know you can always come home when you want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah, everything’s all right though.” I wasn’t’ ready to let my dad know that I had royally screwed up, but I think he could read my expression anyway.

“Well, you have a key, so you can come get some air whenever you need to,” he said as he hugged me.

Roshelle spent the night every Monday and Tuesday. Darnell would ask me to help her dry him off when he got out of the shower. I always refused. I already had to deal with the fact that my man was sleeping with another woman, in the very next room; there was no way I was going to act like I was happy about it. I remember a couple of conversations Darnell and I had about his dream of marrying an older woman who was an ex-hooker. So, whenever I looked at Roshelle with spandex clung to her heavy-set body, I wondered why I was even there. I often took Darnell outside to talk about some of the things that made me uncomfortable. Like the love letters she left around the house. Especially one that went into graphic detail about how much she enjoyed performing oral sex on him (I guess that’s why she didn’t bother to wear her false teeth that much).

“Like it, like it, or dislike it. You can roll whenever you get ready,” he would say in response to my complaints. It was as if he didn’t even care if I was happy or not. It didn’t matter that he was only working part-time for a guy who threatened to fire him every week, when I’d had two steady jobs for several years and I paid the majority of the bills. It didn’t matter that his family and friends loved me, but couldn’t stand Roshelle. It didn’t matter that I had stuck by him for his last three years in prison, and all she could do was write him letters for a year and a half. None of that mattered. He felt that he had tried to make other people happy for most of his life. I realized that I had been doing the same thing myself and I was sick of it. So one night, when he had returned from Roshelle’s house, I was in my room packing. When he walked into my bedroom, I snatched my car keys from him and put them in my pocket.

“Don’t you ever snatch anything from me,” he growled. He raised his hand as if to strike me, but I hit him first. He pushed me down on the floor. I got back up and started taking my boxes to the car.

“So, you’re just going to change horses in the middle of the race?” he asked, walking behind me.

“I don’t feel like hearing that pimp shit tonight. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t tell me what you feel and don’t feel. I tell you what you CAN feel and CANNOT feel.”

I wanted to scream but I didn’t want to wake up his children. I wanted to tell him that I had wasted my time and money on him and that I hated him for putting me through all of that nonsense. It felt like I was going to have a heart attack and a stroke trying to hold in all of my emotions, but I made it through.

I know it sounds foolish, but I still miss him sometimes, but not enough to go back. Darnell and Roshelle made me mad enough to kill, but I’m not going to give up on finding a good guy. I just have to keep my eyes open.

Don't Wear Your Welcome Out

2011-04-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

I have mixed feelings about people having their single friends and relatives around all the time when they are in a relationship or married. I mean, if a person is a cheater they are gonna cheat but I don’t want to give them opportunity to do it right under my nose. This sounds kind of crazy and paranoid but let me explain.

This guy I know told me that he and his live-in girlfriend hardly ever have time for just them or just them and the kids. His girl always had her single sisters, cousins or girlfriends over to the house or Ty and she would go over one of the single lady’s houses. He said that at any given time, one of the ladies would bend over in front of him or make a big production of lifting up their blouses when they pull their pants up. One actually said, “He better not sit by me cause I might have to take him from you.” He finds it flattering in a way, but the subtle and outright advances also make Ty uncomfortable. He feels his girl brings him around her family & friends to rub the fact that she has a man in their faces. From what he’s told me about her, I’m sure he’s right. I kind of laughed to myself thinking of him as a trophy boyfriend. I told him if he didn’t want to be around the ladies all the time that he should tell his girl. If he didn’t have the guts to tell her, I told him to just grin and bear it, making sure he kept his hands and other body parts to himself.

I’m a hugger, and this one guy that I lived with a while ago used to bring his friends over and I would hug them when they came in and when they left. I mean I hug folks at work all the time so it wasn’t because I wanted to do them, that’s just how I greet people that I’m cool with. One day my boyfriend told me to stop hugging his friends because they might want to screw me. I looked at him like he was crazy because I didn’t know they thought of me in that way. To keep down confusion, I just said hello when they came in and went into my bedroom until they left. Of course then he said they thought I was acting anti-social so they started meeting at his brother’s place. *Shaking my head*

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I had friends that were married. They were ladies from my church that I used to like to be around because they told me stories about their lives before they became saved, sanctified and filled with the Holy Ghost. Some of those chicks were really something else, Playboy bunnies and everything. At least that’s what they told me. Anyway, I would hang around them most of the day, but when their husbands came home I would leave. I mean I wouldn’t just rudely jump up when they guys walked into the house. I would have maybe a five or ten minute conversation with them and then I would make my exit. At that age, I had sense enough to know that hey, this guy has been gone all day and he probably missed his wife. He may have wanted to spend some time alone with her or his wife may have wanted some “special” time with him that couldn’t wait until bed time.

I’ve known a number of friends and relatives that have slept with their friends’ mates and it caused and still causes nothing but confusion. I mean, if you’re having a dinner party or some other type of get together, it’s cool to have people over to the house, whether single or married. I just don’t think that folks should just be camping out at your place like it’s a bachelor’s or bachelorette’s pad when you have a significant other.

This is just my opinion, I could be wrong. What’s your viewpoint?

Once Was Blind ~ Part 1

2011-04-09T17:57:00.000-05:00

A year ago I was trying to adjust to Darnell being on the town instead of living in the prison he was in when I met him. You know how you look back and try to focus on what was good about a relationship? Well, I’m sorry to have to admit, I felt better when he was locked up than I did during the three months we lived together. The harder I tried to overlook the things he did, the more my patience wore thin.

My name is Yolanda Reynolds. I thought that I would be married by the time I turned thirty, but Darnell Oliver not only wanted to be my everything, but everything to every woman he met who had a little change in her pocket and who was easily persuaded. Persuaded to do what? Well, just about anything under the sun.

He wanted his women doing everything, from stealing and selling clothes and jewelry to being a part of the oldest profession. Yeah, you know what I mean, prostitution. My former fiancé was a pimp and proud of it. I admit that I tried things his way for a while, but I guess I didn’t have much street value, so he didn’t try to make me quit my day job to pursue full fledge tricking. I thanked my Heavenly Father for making me fat, and for giving me the strength to leave him before Darnell had starved me to death and forced me to be a full-time whore, whether I liked it or not.

Darnell’s mother, Darlene, and I worked together. She and I had been pretty good friends when she introduced me to her son. The first time I talked to him on the phone, Darlene and Darnell had called me on 3-way. Darnell and I exchanged addresses and promised to write each other at least once every couple of weeks.

His first letter was accompanied by a package the size of a toothpaste box. I, being the type of person who loved receiving gifts, unwrapped the light blue package. When I opened what was indeed a toothpaste box, I found a dozen fake miniature roses of assorted colors. Then I opened the letter which said that the roses were better than real ones because they would last forever. I thought that was sweet gesture. As I held the letter, it dawned on me: I had agreed to date a convicted felon on his seventh year of a ten year bid.

After about two weeks of talking on the phone and exchanging letters, I was ready to meet Darnell face to face. I knew who Darnell was soon as he walked into the visitation room. I recognized him from the pictures of him around Darlene’s house. The guy who reached to hug his mother was a lot thinner than I expected. I had figured all guys gained weight when they went to the pen from lifting weights all day. He had a big gold-tooth smile on his face when he looked at me. As Darnell wrapped his small, but muscular, arms around me, I resisted the urge to touch his shoulder length jheri curl. At that point, I hadn’t known what he had done to get himself locked up, but when I looked at the one inch, perfectly manicured nails and snakeskin cowboy boots, pimping came to mind.

During the first two years of our relationship, I visited Darnell every week, twice a week during the holidays. If my car needed servicing and I couldn’t go see him, he told his mother or brother to bring me.

To make up for the fact that he couldn’t see me on an everyday basis, he was the first man to remember my birthday every year. I sent him money and accepted his calls three times a day. He had friends that would give me money for the phone bill when I needed help. He sent me cards and little notes every Valentine’s and Christmas. He even sent me a mother’s day card and signed it, “My children’s mother to be.” I got to know his entire family including three of his children and their mother. They all made me feel like part of the family. No matter how often my friends looked at me and told me that I should have known better than to get mixed up with a convict, I didn’t listen. I didn’t even tell my dad that Darnell was locked up, because he would have been the very worst critic of all; not just because I was his daughter and he wanted the best for me, but because he had done a decade in prison himself. He knew that everybody didn’t learn from their mistakes.

There were a few times when I said to myself, “This is stupid,” and I wouldn’t go see Darnell or put money on his book. When he would call, I would instruct my roommate, Lolita, to tell him I wasn’t there. I sometimes went out with other guys to try to forget about Darnell, but then he would call on one of his friends 3-way and tell me how much he missed me and that he would be there when I got through running around with all those “nothing –ass niggahs”.

During one of those breakups, Darnell met Roshelle Price through one of the other inmates. Roshelle was ten years older than Darnell, which made her fifteen years older than I. She made her money as a hooker and a clothes booster. Why couldn’t I have left him alone then? Because she ended up going to a federal prison and I didn’t considered her empty promises as a threat to the plans Darnell and I had made together. I didn’t take me long to realize how persistent she was.

After my roommate moved out and I was struggling to pay bills on my own, Darnell convinced me to move in with his mother and we would get our own place when he got out.

Darnell was out a whole week before I knew it, and the $900 he asked me to send to him, before his release had already been blown. His second night home, he screwed some girl in my bed while I was at work. I knew this because I saw an open condom package under my pillow. I should have packed my bags then, but I just told him when we moved out of his mom’s house, that I wanted my own room. We stayed with Darlene a month before we found a house.

Government Shutdown

2011-04-05T22:25:00.000-05:00

A number of blog ideas were flowing through my head the last couple of days—getting to know new people, backtracking with an ex… Not so unusual for me, I decided to go in a totally different direction. This doggone government shutdown is weighing heavily on my mind. I’m usually not a political minded person, but this stuff right here is getting on my nerves. I work for the part of the federal government that some people love and some hate—IRS—and as you know THE DAY is fast approaching. This year we have until April 18 to file and/or pay our taxes. As an employee, this date as well as the last day of this month, are crucial times for getting work completed.

The shutdown could also affect the issuing of refund checks (I'm glad I filed in February).

If we are shut down for a couple days to a couple of weeks, we may or may not get paid once the budget is passed. That’s what’s bothering me. I appreciate my good government job which is why I’ve been there for 14 years. As crazy as things get around there, I would love to have a few days off but being off without pay is not something I look forward to.

I was 19 years old and had no idea I’d be working for the government back in 1995 and 1996, the last time the government shut down. The politicians say that was the reason why former President Clinton was elected to a second term. I don’t know how that had anything to do with the cost of tea in China but instead of the senators fighting over whether the shutdown will benefit the Democrats or the Republicans they need to come to my service center and talk with the so-called non-essential people who don’t make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. Then they would see that what’s important is the fact that we could miss one or more pay checks. Depending on a person’s financial situation, that could cause a major problem when it comes to paying the bills for however long we are off.

The National Treasury Employees Union (NTEU) reps passed out fliers at work giving us information on how to send our congressional representatives a message: “Just say ‘NO’ to a government shutdown and severe budget cuts.” I’m not sure if this will have any effect on Congress’s or President Obama’s decision, but I would like to think that it would.

When we didn’t get our yearly raise and were told that we probably wouldn’t get one for another two or three years, I just shrugged and said, “Oh well”. I couldn’t miss any money that I never had. But I go to work every working day other than three vacation weeks out of the year, so I expect to get my regular paycheck.

When the Democrats and the Republicans finish playing this game of chicken, we’ll see if the government will be shut down Friday evening.

If I get furloughed, can y'all let a sister hold something? LOL just kidding, I'm good.

An Understanding

2011-04-02T22:02:00.000-05:00

“Where the hell is Phillip’s medicine? It wasn’t in his bag,” Jarvis yelled into the phone.

I was rocking the baby, trying to soothe him, but I knew that his earache was getting worse.

“This is the second time that you’ve forgotten it. Do I have to come to your house and pack his bag my damn self from now on?”

That’s what you get for having a baby by a young, dumb, white girl, I wanted to say but I didn’t. I was his wife and wives were supposed to be supportive, no matter nuts their husbands were. The fact that she was white really wasn’t a big deal to me because dumb came in all colors.

“Now when I sue you for full custody you’re gonna say that I’m being low down. Whatever. Gennifer, just drop his ear medicine off at mom’s house and I’ll go get it.”

I decided to take Phillip into the kitchen to find him a snack to get his mind off of his pain. Before we reached the doorway, Jarvis screamed, “I bet’ not give you my address, you think I want you to bring your drama to my doorstep?”

I sure the hell didn’t. I almost got locked up fooling around with that broad. I told her I was there for him before she got there and that I’ll be there when she was gone, so she got hot. Hell, it was the truth. Jarvis and I had known each other since ninth grade. We weren’t high school sweethearts or anything but we were good friends. If we had not lost contact a little after graduation, she would have never gotten into the picture.

When he first told me about Gennifer, I figured they would get married but she turned out to be too crazy for him to handle, so he had to cut her loose. Unfortunately, she was pregnant when he’d called it quits. I told him to try to make it work with her but he didn’t want to, saying that he should have been with me in the first place. So there I was, Mrs. Jarvis Anderson, aka Boo Boo the Fool, trying to make the best of a very awkward situation.

“Sonia, come ride with me,” Jarvis said walking into the kitchen where I stood. “I might kill that girl if I go alone.”

“Okay. I wish you wouldn’t let her upset you so much,” I said handing the baby to him. I went to the living room closet to get our jackets. I put on mine and took Phillip from Jarvis, giving him his jacket as well. Jarvis watched me as I got Phillip ready.

“I think you take better care of my son than his mama,” he said as we got into the car.

“I love this handsome little guy. I mean he looks just like you, except he’s more light skinned, has nicer hair and prettier eyes.”

“Are you trying to put the moves on my boy?” I just giggled and hugged Phillip to me. I was glad Jarvis was back to his old self again. He and I hardly ever argued, so it was unusual for me to see his bottom lip poked out.

It was too bad that our good moods didn’t last long. Gennifer’s car was still in Mrs. Phyllis’s driveway when we pulled in front of the house. It looked as if Gennifer was getting ready to back out, but I’m sure she made it her business to be there when Jarvis got there on purpose, hoping to get a few moments with him, without me around. Oops, her bad.

Jarvis blew the horn to get her attention before he got out the car. As he walked over to her car, I could tell that old girl was getting ready to chew Jarvis out. I hoped he would keep his composure.

“What do you want? And why doesn’t your wife have my baby in the child seat? Is she trying to kill him or what?” she yelled loud enough for me to have heard her in our backyard six blocks away.

When Jarvis looked back to see if I heard her, he saw me getting out of the passenger seat, so I could put Phillip in the back. As soon as I sat him down, he began to whine. “He needs his medicine,” I yelled to them.

“Bring me my baby, he just misses his mommy,” Gennifer said impatiently.

I picked Phillip up and again and walked over to Gennifer as she got out of her car. When I put the baby in her arms, he began to cry louder. By the time Mrs. Phyllis had let me in the house, the baby was on the verge of bursting a blood vessel and his face was almost as red as a tomato.

“What’s wrong with that child? He looks like he’s fighting for his life. Look how he’s clawing at that gal’s face.” I picked up the medicine bottle from the coffee table and went to stand behind Mrs. Phyllis as she stood at the door looking out. We both giggled when Gennifer thrust Phillip into Jarvis’s arms.

“What have you been doing to him?” she yelled nearly in tears herself.

“We’ve been taking care of him and loving him, the way you should be doing.”

Phillip calmed down and looked over his little shoulder at his mother. His small hand went up to his earlobe and began twisting and turning it. I took that as my cue to return outside and rescue both of my men from that woman, before things got any worse.

“Can you have kids?” Gennifer burst out, as I approached them.

“Why do you ask?” I responded, as I put the drops in the baby’s ears.

“I was just wondering if you were going to have any children of your own or if you were just going steal my son away from me.”

I would be a much better mother than you, I wanted to say, but one look at the expression on Jarvis’s face said not to even go there. I took Phillip to the car and fastened him in the car seat. I handed him his sippy cup from his bag. He looked out of the window and watched his parents as he drank his juice. It was a good thing he wasn’t old enough to feel embarrassed by his mother. I envied his innocence.

It was Phillip’s third birthday. Mrs. Phyllis and I were out in her backyard putting balloons and streamers on the wooden privacy fence. We were waiting for Gennifer to bring Phillip over so we would have him ready before his little daycare friends arrived. She was late, as usual. Jarvis had not made it either, but he had called to say he would have to work a little later.

The party was well underway, when I received a phone call that I felt would send me to my maker. The police told me that Jarvis had been dropping off one of his coworkers, when a motorcycle got into his lane, coming down the wrong side of the street. Jarvis dodged the guy but ran right into a large tree that pretty much totaled his truck. My sweetie was unconscious.

“Phyllis,” I screamed, trying to keep my composure, but failing miserably.

“What is it, baby?” I just handed her the phone.

Once I had gotten myself together and sent everyone home, Gennifer and I got into the car. We rode in silence except for her crying. Mrs. Phyllis stayed at the house with Phillip. I drove because I was the more coherent one. I felt as if I had drunk a bottle of Novocain that made my whole body numb. I wanted to smack Gennifer, and put her out of the car, for all of her melodramatics, but I controlled the urge. I did feel sorry for her because she was alone, except for Phillip. I didn’t know much about her, but I did know that her attitude had a lot to do with her relationship status.

The doctor didn’t want me to see Jarvis at first but when I got through cutting up sideways, they let me in. They wouldn’t let Gennifer come. I don’t think she would have been able to see him like that anyway. I nearly stopped breathing when I laid eye on him. One of his legs was up in a sling and his handsome brown face was covered with cuts and bruises. I dropped to my knees, and prayed until the nurse came to tell me it was time to go.

When I explained Jarvis’s condition to Gennifer she cried twice as much as she had earlier. “What are Phillip and I going to do if something happens to Jarvis? I can’t take care of him by myself. I know I give him a hard time about everything, but I still care about him.”

“Gennifer,” I said putting my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me. “No matter what happens, and Lord knows I hope he’ll be all right, but if something does happen to Jarvis, I’ll always be there for you and Phillip.”

“But…”

“No buts. When I married Jarvis, you and that little boy became my family too. I could never turn my back on you, no matter how crazy your ass is.” That girl was speechless for the first time since I’d known her and it made me smile through the tears in my eyes. We sat there and held each other for a long time. I felt all of the animosity that had been between us melting away.

Jarvis came out of his coma after a week and a half. When Gennifer and I went to pick him up, he did a double take. “What’s the business? Y’all must have gone crazy while I was half dead.”

“No, we just came to an understanding,” I said.

“What kind of understanding?” Jarvis asked suspiciously.

“That if you died, we would move in together.”

“What the …?”

“Just kidding, baby, calm down,” I said kissing his face.

“Sonia and I called a truce. I’ll try not to give her a hard time and she will try not to kick my butt if I slip up,” Gennifer said.

“It’s about time. Does that truce extend to me too? I wanted to bust your head a couple of times myself.”

“Damn, y’all violent,” Gennifer laughed. “Yes, I promise not to get you riled up either.”

Who knew that Gennifer and I would have become friends? She had hated me since day one. I really thought she would revert back to her old ways after a while, but she didn’t. I guess she finally understood that there was no reason for us to have any animosity against each other because Phillip was the most important person in all of our lives and that it was important for us to get along, for his sake.

With her attitude under control, maybe could find her a good dude to keep her occupied.

What Does My Twitter Bio Really Say About Me

2011-03-29T21:37:00.000-05:00

I discovered Marian Schembari through a YouTube interview done with her by Joanna Penn. After watching Marian's videos and reading a few of her blog posts, I got to thinking about how my Twitter account looks to people. I’m interested in a lot of things and sometimes I wonder if I turn folks off by tweeting about so many different subjects. Can any of you, or maybe Marian herself, let me know if I’m harming my potential readership by being all over the place with my tweets? In addition, my blog posts fall along the same lines. One day I’m writing about a relationship and the next day I’m writing about my decision to embrace the natural texture of my hair.

Let me provide a little more information about my subject matters.

Mother

I am a mother first and foremost. I’ve held this title for nearly four years and I’m still learning how to be a good mother. By no means am I perfect, but I’m doing the best I know how and I hope my son appreciates it when he gets older. I talk about some of the outings we go on and some of the funny things he says in the course of a day. At times I even ask for advice concerning my child’s education or why he may be behaving in a certain way.

Writer

Writing was a part of my life long before I became a mother. I write poetry, short stories, unfinished novels and of course blog posts. My desire to be a professional writer is the number one reason why I joined Twitter in the first place. I have met writers at various levels. From professionals to aspiring, from traditional published to self-published, from fiction to non-fiction and everything else in between. No matter what level the writer is on, I learn something from all of them on a regular basis through their blogs, YouTube videos and conversations with them on Twitter.

Reader

Before I was a writer, I was a reader. Reading was my first love (Some of the stuff I read as a youngster led to my first love with a boy but that’s another story.) Many times I tweet links to blog posts that I find interesting or about a book or ebook that I’m reading or have read and enjoyed.

Thinker

Things are always popping into my head, even in the middle of the night. Sometimes it’s a story idea or a lyric from a song that I can’t get out of my head. Sometimes I tweet these lyrics and sometimes I post a link to the video on YouTube. When something ways heavy on my mind, I write a blog post about it and link to it. (Which is what I’m going to do with this post).

Natural Hair

I didn’t even know there was a such thing as a natural hair community until I got on Twitter. I had been toying with the notion of growing my relaxer out but I really didn’t think much of it until I ran across a couple of tweets with the hashtag #naturalhair. When I clicked on it I saw a legion of nappy headed, curly haired, kinky haired African American women that had cut all of their hair off or were in the process of growing the chemically treated hair out and trimming it a little at a time. From joining and participating in this community, I have learned so much about my own hair. Sometimes, when the mood hits me, I even create and then link to my own YouTube videos.

Relationships

Most of the poems and stories I’ve written over the years have dealt with relationships. Some of the relationships were really good and some were so bad that a person was on the verge of going to jail before they took anymore abuse from the other person. (Been there, almost did that.) Sometimes I pose questions to tweeps requesting their opinion on something I had been thinking about and that I plan to write about.

Family

Even though my son is the only family that actually lives in my household, I see my dad almost daily and my baby sister once a week. I encounter other members of my family a couple times a year. Sometimes it’s pleasant sometimes I vow not to see them for maybe two to three years the next go around. A lot of times I respond to family related tweets because I have been through or personally know of examples of similar situations.

Social Media

Last but definitely not least, I am addicted to social media. From Twitter to Facebook to YouTube and all of the blogs I can stand to read. Social media feeds my all of the previously mentioned items. If there is something going on in my life that I can’t explain, I Google it and get all kinds of answers as to why it happened and how it can be prevented from happening in the future. My dad thinks the internet is the devil but maybe if I told him I learned how to deal with his crazy antics from some of the things I read on the internet, he would sing a different tune.

Well this is my spiel for today. Let me know if you think that I should narrow my range of subjects, if I should only tweet or blog about one thing or if you love my flighty-ness and think I’m the best thing since sliced bread was invented. Please don’t lie to me.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

No Fool Like an Old Fool ~ Part 2

2011-03-26T10:08:00.000-05:00

Seeing the assault, a man in another unit went to the conference room, where the managers were having a meeting. He told them what had happened and Mrs. Dandridge followed him back to the area. It took her and five other people to pull Precious, kicking and cursing, away from Brian’s balled up body. Tears covered her face and blood ran from the broken skin on her fists. She continued to yell obscenities as they led her to Mr. Bentley’s office.

The company nurse came to get Brian. Some managers helped him into the wheelchair she had brought. As the nurse pushed Brian to her station, anyone who hadn’t witnessed the fight could clearly see the deep fingernail scratches covering his neck and face. They snickered and pointed at the patches missing from his already thinning gray hair.

After being released from the hospital, Brian was told to stay home from work for at least a month. Brian had never been off of work for such a length of time but knew he needed to be. Crazy woman. If I were twenty years younger, I would’ve shown that little bitch a thing or two.

His second morning home, Brian lay in his bed trying to ignore the pain in his right leg. Then the phone rang.

“Hey, should I make the funeral arrangements now or are you going to stick around and wreak havoc for a few more years?” the woman on the other end asked.

“Sarah?” Brian asked, “I can’t believe you called me. How long has it been now…twelve years?”

“Thirteen. So how did you manage to get your ass kicked by a twenty-five year old?”

“Who told you?”

“You know my cousin, Laura, still works there. She saw the nurse pushing you to her off office.”

“Nosey wench,” Brian said.

“I’m going to ignore that because I know you don’t know any better. I took off of work for a while, told them that my deadbeat husband needed me. I’ll be there in half an hour. I have to pick up my rental.”

“How did you know I wanted you to come?”

“I doesn’t matter what you want. If I don’t help you, it will be on my conscious for eternity. And I try to think about you as least as possible. See ya in a few,” Sarah said, hanging up not bothering to wait for a response.

Brian and his wife had been separated longer than they had been together. When he had returned home after the army kicked him out, his wife followed suit. Sarah was pregnant at the time, which should have been impossible due to the fact that Brian had been gone for a year. In a way, he had been ecstatic to be rid of her, but every now and then he wished he could have made things better between them.

Brian hadn’t been in a serious relationship since Sarah. He had dated a few women here and there but soon grew tired of them. It was never the same as being with sweet Sarah, so he resolved to stop trying to replace her. He got lonely for a woman at times, but it was nothing a bottle of Jack Daniels and a little Vaseline or baby oil couldn’t cure.

When he built his strength up, Brian crept downstairs to unlock the door so it would be open when Sarah got there. He was sitting in his recliner, in front of the living room television, when his estranged wife arrived, looking even more beautiful than Brian had remembered. Florida had been good to her. Brian tried to suppress his excitement at her being there, but when she began to speak, there was nothing to mask anymore.

“Brian, when are you going to learn that you are the minority at Internal Revenue Service? That place is ninety percent women, seventy percent black women, what were you thinking? Don’t answer that, I forgot that thinking was never your forte.”

“They need to do what the government pays them to do, and that does not include taking up money to give to some snobbish woman who’s not worth the cream she puts in her coffee.”

“You need to do what you are paid to do and that is to do your work and keep your nose and your big mouth out of other people’s business.”

“You sound just like those people. If I’m gonna have to justify my actions throughout this little pity visit of yours, you might as well go home now.”

“Brian, I’m just trying to help you understand that you can’t keep doing people the way you do. What if that young woman had her boyfriend or brother kick your behind instead of doing it herself? You could have been killed instead of just knocked around a little bit.”

“Knocked around? She did try to kill me with those witch boots of hers. You can see the imprints of them up and down my leg and thigh,” Brian whined, pulling up his pant leg.

Sarah just shook her head and walked into the small kitchen. Brian could hear her running water in the sink preparing to clean the dishes he had left on the table since breakfast. Thanks, babe, he thought, smiling to himself.

For the rest of Sarah’s stay, she and Brian got along quite well. He even began to entertain thoughts of reconciling with Sarah. He revealed his thoughts to her the day she was suppose to return to Florida.

“Sarah, how about giving your loving husband another chance.”

“No.”

“Damn, you’re not even going to think about it?”

“Uh Uh.”

“Come on, babe, be reasonable.”

“Brian, remember when I begged you to let me move on base with you instead of staying with my parents?”

“Sarah, I thought that you would be lonely when I wasn’t there with you.”

“That was a crock of shit then and it still is now. I wanted to be with my husband and you left me.”

“Well, that didn’t mean you had to go gallivanting around and getting pregnant by some other guy. A black one at that.”

“I admit my guilt in the way things turned out, but Shelly has been one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Too bad I can’t say the same for you.”

Brian suppressed the urge to say something spiteful. “But I can do better, Sarah, just give me another shot.”

“We’ll see. I’ll call you when I have a chance to think about it. Bye, Brian.”

Brian returned to work the Monday after Sarah left. He hadn’t liked many of the things she said to him but he knew that she had been right. He also knew that he had been mostly to blame for their problems and subsequent separation. That meant he had a lot of changes to make, as far as his attitude, if he really wanted to win Sarah back. Brian also came to the realization that there would always be things he would dislike about the way things were done at his job. He wouldn’t be forced to just sit back and deal with it but he would have to go through the proper channels to get things resolved instead of being rude to his co-workers…in his new unit.

#100FactsAboutMe

2011-03-22T21:58:00.000-05:00

I liked this Twitter trending topic so much that I decided to make it a blog post. If you care to learn a little about me, here goes.

1. I like the way makeup looks but I don't want to wear it every day.

2. Sometimes, I care more about what people think of me than I probably should.

3. There are times when I don't give a damn about what other people think when it's something I'm really passionate about.

4. I love my #naturalhair but I have a drawer full of weaves that I will wear whenever the mood hits me.

5. I want to be able to push out at least one book a year.

6. I want to quit my good government job and be a full-time writer, but I'm scared.

7. I love socializing with people at work and on the internet but I don't like having a lot of company at the house.

8. I think I have the cheapest and slowest internet service ever invented. SMH

9. When I was young, I used to sit in the kitchen and watch the clock. I used to will it to hurry up and make it to 7:30 so I could go to school.

10. When I was a kid, I had Strawberry Shortcake everything: underwear, bike, lunch box.

11. I snuck and drank one of my stepdad’s cans of beer when I was 10. It was horrible and I haven’t drunk beer since.

12. Mom used to make me light her cigarettes on the stove. I had to puff them to make sure they were lit before I took them back to her. I don’t smoke jack now.

13. It's sad that the only time I drink water is when there's nothing else to drink in the house.

14. I love teaching people things but if they don’t catch on after three times, I get annoyed.

15. When females talk about what their man bought for them I often wonder if they bought the stuff themselves.

16. Chik-fil-A is my favorite fast food restaurant and Applebee’s is my favorite “sit down and eat” restaurant.

17. I’m better at long distance relationships than when the guy is with me every day.

18. I’ve got four brothers and five sisters.

19. I want to have at least one more child but if it doesn’t happen before I turn forty, I’m hanging my tubes up. LOL

20. I’m a recovering Facebook game addict. No more Farmville or Cityville.

21. I was named after my paternal grandmother.

22. I used to hate my name but it has grown on me over the years.

23. Other than reading and doing my hair, my hobbies include, crochet and cross-stitch. Fun huh. I think I was an old woman in a former life.

24. I’m really not into sports but sometimes I pretend I am just to start conversations with folks. “How bout them Cowboys?”

25. I also make greeting cards for my coworkers, mostly sports related. How ironic.

26. If I could take all of the fat out of my belly and put it in my butt I would be so happy.

27. My favorite color has been red for the last ten years. It used to be blue.

28. I wouldn’t mind having a reality show for one season. It might help me to make something happen in my life.

29. I often tell people I’m broke even when I have at least fifty bucks in the bank.

30. My dad is my best friend.

31. I want at least one tattoo but I’m afraid it may keloid.

32. My youngest brother was born when I was twelve and all of my friends thought he was my son.

33. My youngest sister was born when I was 24 and everyone thought she was my daughter.

34. I used to collect bears. Teddy bears and figurines.

35. When I get the money, I’m getting a parrot and I’m going to name it Tipsy.

36. I was going to name my son Donnell Jones McCray but I named him Donovan JaMelle McCray instead.

37. The song “Go DJ” by Lil Wayne gave me the initials I wanted to use for his name.

38. I love making YouTube videos. If the kid wasn’t always bugging me I would make two or more every week.

39. I want to learn to play the piano.

40. I’m 5’3” but I wish I was taller.

41. I weigh 300+ and I definitely wish I was smaller.

42. I’ve gained more than 100 pounds since high school. My fat was in all the right places back then.

43. I wear size 11 shoes. I truly believe that if it weren’t for the drag queens, I wouldn’t have such a great selection of shoes at my disposal.

44. I hate housework but I hate funky smells even more.

45. I would like a breast reduction.

46. I wish I had hair down to my butt.

47. I rather do my own hair than go to the salon.

48. I ain’t no killer, but don’t push me. LOL

49. I wish I could be 25 again. I would make better choices than I did the first time around.

50. I used to have a re-occurring dream where I drove my car off of a cliff.

51. I stopped having that dream when I drove from Memphis to Philadelphia and crossed all kinds of scary roads without crashing.

52. I like BIG earrings.

53. I like cake but I don’t like icing—anymore.

54. I love to hug people that I really like.

55. I like kissing as long as there isn’t a lot of drool involved.

56. I was studying to be a Jehovah’s Witness, but the fornication thing kept getting in the way.

57. I was an usher for a year at a Baptist church until, again, the fornication thing got in the way.

58. Now that I don’t go to church at all, there’s not much fornication going on. *Shrug* Go figure.

59. I have shoes or boots in almost every color.

60. I used to have a twitter husband until he left me for some real-life chick.

61. I want contact lenses but I’m afraid to stick them in my eye.

62. I once sat in Lenscrafters for an hour trying to put contacts in my eyes. Kids were putting them in with no problem and I was jealous.

63. I wear sunglasses on top of my glasses. I will not be outdone.

64. I wish I could speak better Spanish. I need some Spanish-speaking friends; these audio cds ain’t cutting it.

65. I graduated number 7 in my high school class. College was a little harder but I pretty much had a B average when I graduated.

66. I only keep half of the secrets that people tell me. Of course I only tell my dad. He don’t know them folks.

67. Sometimes I’m very impatient and other times I have the patience of Job.

68. I’m going to buy a Mercedes before I die. Even if I can only afford to make the first payment.

69. I hate driving but I hate waiting for a ride even more.

70. I think I have the ugliest big toe nails on the planet.

71. I wish I had a bumper car.

72. I wish I had a twin.

73. If my dad dies before me, I’m leaving Memphis.

74. If my son dies before me, I’m quitting my job.

75. I’m a Pisces. I get along very well with Pisceans that are born in February. I bump heads with the ones born in March.

76. I try not to keep liquor in the house too often because I don’t want to turn into an alcoholic.

77. When I’m supposed to go to bed early, I stay up late.

78. When I don’t have anything to do but stay up late, I go to bed early.

79. I take pictures with my cell phone more than I talk on it.

80. I used to be addicted to NoDoz. I had a lot of days where I didn’t sleep for 24 hours, but slept for 12 when I finally got a chance to lay down.

81. I used to have two full time jobs, but now I barely have the energy to go to one every day.

82. I get sad when I lose Twitter followers as if I had already formed a bond with them.

83. I want to get married once, and that’s it. Being a serial bride does not sound like fun to me.

84. I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up. I kinda am since I have to train my coworkers.

85. I wanted to be a nurse too, but I didn’t want to deal with the bedpan issue.

86. I often think of stuff in the middle of the night and wake up to write it down before I forget.

87. I wrote my first short story at 11 years old.

88. I wrote my first poem at 14 years old.

89. Sometimes I wake up an hour earlier than I really have to, but I still end up being 15 minutes late.

90. I hardly ever leave work on time because it seems like people think of crap to ask me once I’ve logged off my computer and put my bag on my shoulder.

91. I wish I could work part time and still make the same amount of money.

92. I would like to work from home but not for “The Man”, for myself. Or I could be like this guy in a movie trailer I saw where he ran his law office out of car and people just drove up to his window to talk to him.

93. I hate working overtime but I love getting the extra money.

94. I used to want a gold tooth.

95. I used to be extremely shy but I got over that when I got in my late 20s.

96. If I stopped coloring my hair, I bet half of it would be gray.

97. I sit in front of the computer more than I watch TV.

98. My cell phone is also my home phone.

99. I hate taking pills.

100. I’m the best friend anyone could ever have.

No Fool Like an Old Fool ~ Part I

2011-03-19T11:00:00.000-05:00

“Brian, I need to see you in my office for a moment,” Mrs. Dandridge said.

“I’m busy, can’t this wait?” Brian groaned, as he breathed into the receiver. He knew why the head broad in charge had summoned him and was not looking forward to talking to her.

“No, this cannot wait, Mr. Sims. It is imperative that we discuss some things that have come to my attention.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Cocky bitch.

Brian took his time walking to his supervisor’s office. Passing his co-workers, Cherie Rice and Kandy Glass, who were busy discussing how Kandy had straightened out some woman who’d come on to her boyfriend the night before; Brian noticed Kandy’s raised middle finger pointed unmistakably in his direction. He rubbed the spot where his blond hair no longer grew and bald his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.

“Brian, it is my understanding that you seem to be having difficulty getting along with some of your co-workers. Can you enlighten me on the specifics of your conflict?” Mrs. Dandridge asked when Brian sat in the chair in front of her desk.

“What?”

“What seems to be the problem, Brian?”

“The problem is those silly little girls who sit across from me. I can hardly concentrate on my work with them giggling and carrying on all the time.”

“Well, my sources tell me that you are missing from your cubicle for most of the day, deeming it impossible for anyone to disturb you.”

“I have to leave to clear my head. I can’t stand to hear their annoying voices more than thirty minutes at a time.”

“Why haven’t you come to me about this?”

“You’re always in some meeting when they get started. One of them made an obscene gesture to me on my way here.”

“You’re kidding; I want you to write up a statement so that I can give it to Mr. Bentley.”

“You’re not going to do anything about it.”

“Brian, it is my job to see to it that my department is productive and that there is no disruptive behavior among my employees. Now, get that statement back to me as soon as you can and I’ll let you know what comes of it.”

They’re trying to force me into retirement, but I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready, Brian thought, glaring in Kandy and Cherie’s direction. When he reached his cubicle, Brian could feel the cackling hens staring at the back of his head. He heard them suppress a few giggles then return to their never ending babble. “It must be break time,” he said to himself, but loud enough for the young women to hear.

“Who he talking to?” Kandy asked.

“I don’t know. I know his crazy ass ain’t talking to me,” Cherie answered.

“Go to the break room if it’s your break time. If I was the boss, I would show y’all how to run this place,” Brian said.

“Girl, I think brain damaged Brian is talking to us. He ain’t nobody’s boss,” Kandy said, putting her hand on her hip.

“You hear that nut case? You ain’t the boss of nobody ‘round here,” Cherie said.

Brian didn’t respond. He sat in his chair and put on his headphones, turning up his music as high as he could stand in an attempt to tune out the insolent floozies.

Brian seldom ate lunch; instead he combined that time with his two fifteen-minute breaks and takes a vigorous walk around the parking lot. He had been a boxer in the military (before being dishonorably discharged) so sometimes he was seen walking backwards down a hill, jabbing his fists into the air. Brian had heard the remarks about him being a terrorist getting ready to attack, but instead of being offended, he found it rather amusing. It made him feel good that most of his co-workers seemed to fear him.

After Brian finished his workouts, he never saw a need to neither change clothes nor take a shower. He would just walk around for the rest of the day in his smelly, sweat-stained clothes, daring someone to complain about the stench. There were comments made about Brian’s hygiene, but were mostly said behind his back. No one knew that he had heard the remarks when he would walk down the aisle outside of work area and stand by the wall of a few of his co-workers cubicles. This was how he found out that his unit, along with the department manager, Mr. Bentley, was trying to oust him from the area. Brian had been insulted at first, but then realized that it was a blessing in disguise. Instead of being pushed into leaving my job I’ll just be relocated to another unit, away from the dingbats. Good!

Brian came to the realization that he could speed up the process of his move if he took his anti-social antics up a notch. So he began documenting the break and lunch times of his nemeses, Kandy and Cherie, noting the fact that they usually turned thirty-minute lunches into two hour outings. He would then go to Mrs. Dandridge and inform her of the young women’s transgressions. But that stunt had only forced them into using personal leave to make up for the extra-long breaks instead of getting them written up. It had also gotten Brian a tongue-lashing from Mrs. Damnbitch, telling him that he was to mind his own business and that what others did, and for how long they did it, was none of his concern. Of course Brian didn’t heed the warning, and went a step further in his shenanigans.

Intimidation had always been his strong suit, so whenever Kandy and Cherie and some of their associates stood outside one of their cubicles talking, Brian would pull his chair out into the aisle and stare at them. He laughed whenever they laughed. Sometimes he would pretend to read his newspaper and loudly clear his throat every few minutes. The young women would only look at him and roll their eyes.

On one occasion, when they were standing in his path to his cubicle, instead of saying excuse me he just walked up to the back of Kandy and began breathing down her neck.

“Girl, I think Brian wants to touch your ass,” Cherie laughed.

“Honey, he don’t make enough money to look at all this,” Kandy said, striking a bottom- glorifying pose that made Cherie and a few onlookers laugh.

That had not been the response he had expected. That impulsive act could have gotten him written up for sexual harassment. Then, because he had created so much trouble already, he would have gotten himself sent home indefinitely instead of just suspended. So Brian had lain low, expecting the worse, but no grievance was filed. After some deliberation, Brian decided to stick to verbal attacks following that incident; which led to his very memorable confrontation with the unit secretary, Precious Williams.

“Hello, Mr. Sims,” Precious said.

“What do you want?” Brian snapped, not looking up from his paper littered desk.

“Well, you know Boss’s Day is coming up and we, the unit I mean, thought that it would be a good idea to take up some money to buy a gift for Mrs. Dandridge.”

“I wouldn’t give my hard earned money to that woman for all the rice in China. What’s she ever done for me? I haven’t gotten a decent appraisal since I’ve been working under her. I guess if I were black I would get treated better. She seems to cater to you people,” Brian said, turning in his chair and facing Precious. Brian knew that what he had said was rotten. Precious had never done anything to him. She was one of the few young blacks who had amounted to something. She did hang with Kandy and Cherie on occasion, but she mostly struck to herself.

“You people?” Precious said, attempting to control her anger but failing miserably. “Mr. Sims, I don’t know what your problem is, but you are talking to the wrong one. I’m not one of these other people you take such joy in terrorizing.”

“Get out of my face, Precious, I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Brian said, rising from his chair. He pushed Precious to the side as he left his cubicle heading down the aisle. Brian could see her regain her balance out of the corner of his eye. He figured that she would probably get together with her little cronies and badmouth him. What happened instead had never crossed his mind.

Brian hit the floor when Precious charged him. She started hitting him on the back of his head, neck and back. Then she got up and started kicking him in the shin and hip with the pointed toe of her boots. All the exercise Brian had done had never prepared him for that day.

Breaking Generational Curses

2011-03-15T05:54:00.000-05:00

A generational curse is negative behavior that is thought to have a hold on a family that is passed from generation to generation. If you try hard enough, you can break this vicious cycle of events and live a healthy, productive life.

There are all kinds of generational curses that people have to overcome, but here are some of the ones that plague my family.

• Some people are alcoholics because one or both of their parents were alcoholics.
• Some people abuse their children because they were abused as children.
• Some people may have grown up in a household where only one or two out of 10 kids actually made it past 9th grade, let alone graduated.
• Some people have to have their family reunions in jail in order for them to see their uncles, cousins and maybe even their daddy.

If you are 18, no I’ll give you a few more years. If you are 21 years old, you should NOT be blaming your crack-head mom, your absentee dad, or your touchy feely auntie for the way you act. Once you are grown and hopefully out of the house, you should be able to make your own choices in life. You should choose to be a better person, even if your family is full of … road apples.

I had a crazy life growing up but I used what I saw as a measuring stick, if I didn’t do all of the dumb things my folks did, I would live a decent life.

• Whatever dad did to get locked up, I wasn’t doing that.
• Whatever my mom went through that made her turn to drugs, I wasn’t dealing with that.
• Whatever my auntie drank to make her start fights with folks, I didn’t want any of that.
• Whatever my cousin did to have folks shooting at him, I was running from that.

I could easily just sit around and wallow in self-pity and whine about all of the things I didn’t have, all of the verbal abuse I suffered, all of the hoopla I witnessed or was forced to participate in. I could let all of the negativity consume me and keep me from rising above it all, but I choose not to.

• I chose not to drink my life away.
• I chose not to have a puff of smoke coming out of my mouth unless my hot breath is meeting the cold air.
• I chose not to beat the heck out of my son even if he needs it.
• I chose to finish high school and three years of college with plans to go back.
• I chose not to ever have to see the jail house unless I’m trying to pay a traffic ticket or to visit folks when I get the urge.

Yes, I know this is a cliché but it’s true—Prayer changes things. I don’t go to church like I should, but I have a relationship with my creator. If I didn’t have that relationship, I would probably be in the crazy house right now. There may be other ways to break free of a generational curse, but prayer was and continues to be my stronghold. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be like your mom or dad when you grow up, but you might have to sift through all of the mess and pick out the good parts of them and run with that.

Do you think there is a generational curse on your family? How do you plan to fight it?

Sisterly Advice

2011-03-12T11:02:00.003-06:00

When I arrived home from work the first thing I did was check the mail box. I didn’t really look through the bundle until I got into the house. Scanning through the bills and magazines I noticed that I had received a letter from my older sister, Regina. But according to the salutation it was supposed to go to my brother, Thomas. I had never gotten a letter from Regina. Even after she left Memphis and moved to Somerville, Tennessee. She and I got together every weekend so there was no need for us to be pen pals. Thomas lived in Grand Rapids, Michigan, so I guess I could see her writing a letter to him.

Since it had my address on it, nosey me opened it. When I read the contents, I got hot all over. She was telling Thomas the secret that I had revealed to her the last time we talked.

I had just found out I was pregnant and was considering having an abortion. I wanted to be married when I had a child. I had just graduated from University of Memphis and was starting my career in management at a local mortgage company downtown. There were so many reasons why that was not a good time for me to be a mom.

I wanted Regina to give me some much needed advice not tell all my business to Big Mouth Thomas. Being six years older than I, my sister was naturally someone I looked up to. But after reading the entire letter laced with every detail of our discussion, I was ready to write her out of my will.

“Let me get this chick on the phone and give her a piece of my mind,” I said aloud. Sometimes I talked to myself when I was stressed. Ring. Ring. Darn voice mail. I knew she was at home screening her calls. “Look, Ms. Lady, you need to call me. Trying to put my business all out in the street.” I mean I wanted kids someday just not right then. Leon was the one who was always talking about having kids with me. Talk about pressure.

An abortion was really not something I wanted to do but what else could I do. I mean, adoption was out of the question. Who wanted to go through all of that discomfort and then give your baby away? Made no sense to me. Who would I get to watch my baby when I was at work? Some of these daycare owners are too careless for me. Leaving babies in the van. If they left my baby in a dog gone van some heads would roll. Maybe Run-Her-Mouth-Regina can watch him, she ain’t got no job. Talking about, “Sheila, women have babies every day and still pursue their careers.” I had already made my appointment at the clinic and went through the counseling sessions. I just wanted to get her opinion.

All the next day, I tossed my sisters suggestions back and forth in my mind. Since Regina did medical billing from home, she could stay at my house with the baby, keep him with her during the week and bring him home on weekends, or she could rent her country home out and move back to Memphis.

I could barely pay attention in the training class at work. Faces of little babies spun around in my head. If I had a boy he would inherit my gap-tooth smile and Big Body Benz physique, if it was a girl she would have Leon’s height and nice wavy hair. I had to decide if I really wanted to take on the responsibility of being a mother. Being a realist, I felt that no matter how much Leon proclaimed to want to be a dad and even if he is there in the beginning who’s to say that he wouldn’t walk away some time in the future.

By the time I got home, I still hadn’t heard anything from Regina. I didn’t really feel like talking to her anyway.

Just as I had finally decided what I wanted to eat for dinner, Leon called.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hello. What are you up to?” I asked.

“Thinking about you. Hey, you wanna go get something to eat?”

“Sounds good to me.”

When Leon picked me up he was really quiet in the car which was unusual for him. “What’s wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer right away, I could tell he had something on his mind but wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Aw nothing, just hungry. I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“You not eating lunch is not a good thing. You are the only person that eats six full meals a day and doesn’t gain any weight.”

“That’s ‘cause I work it off,” he said, with a wink.

When we arrived at El Porton’s, it did look rather crowded but fortunately we didn’t have to wait long to be seated. Before we had placed our order, Leon grabbed my hand and kissed it. “I was going to wait until after dinner but this thing is burning a hole in my pocket.”

Before I could ask him what he was talking about he pulled out a small box. Once again, me being a realist or maybe a cynic sometimes I don’t know the difference, did not jump up and down or burst out crying. I had seen too many movies where the woman just knew she was getting an engagement ring but got a charm for a necklace or some big ugly earrings. When I saw what was in the box, I had the type of reaction that almost required me to have on some Depends. But then, of course, tears really did come to my eyes. I nearly knocked the waiter down trying to jump on the other side of that booth.

“Leon, this is so great. I’m not going to be a single mother and …”

“What…”

“We can get a nicer house than both of ours put together and…”

“Baby, what do you mean? Are you pregnant?”

“Yes, almost twelve weeks. I was afraid to tell you. Do you think this is a good thing? I mean you know, I could…” He put his finger over my lips.

“Don’t you dare kill any child of mine?”

“I won’t,” I said, burying my face in his chest. “You know you can’t leave me right?” I said, looking up into his face and pointing my finger. We had the whole restaurant’s attention by then but I didn’t care. The most perplexed look I had ever seen crossed Leon’s face.

“Why would you say something like that? I’ve been putting up with your crazy butt for six years, why would I leave now?”

“I’m just saying, if you get sick of me, you can’t move out, mister. You can sleep in another room but I ain’t with that divorcing mess.” He just smiled and pulled me closer to him.

“How ‘bout we get bunk beds. You might try to sneak some dude through the window. I gotta watch you.”

I pulled away from him and looked at him over the rim of my glasses. See that was my serious look. “Boy, you crazy.”

I called Regina when I got home to tell her the good news. The first thing she said was, “Have you come to your senses yet?”

“Yes, but do you know that you sent me a letter addressed to Thomas. Telling him all my business. What’s up with that?”

Regina burst out laughing, which kinda ticked me off all over again.

“That’s not funny. You know he used to get us in trouble all the time. Always snitching. I think he was a nosey old lady in a former life.” My big sister was coughing, trying to catch her breath.

“Whew! Girl, how dumb do you think I am? I sent that letter on purpose to give your spoiled butt something to think about.”

“Spoiled? Who spoiled?”

“You. You spoiled. I raised Joshua by myself and he turned out all right.”
She was right. Joshua was an Honor Roll student as well as a great athlete with football and track trophies all over Regina’s house.

“There’s another thing I was calling to tell you. Leon and I are getting married.”

“That’s great. Are you going to get married soon or wait until the baby comes?”

“We haven’t decided yet. You need to be looking for an apartment down here, babysitter.”

“That’s cool, I already bought the lil’ booger some onesies and bibs.”

“So you just knew I would change my mind?”

“You wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t trust the advice I would give you. And you know that I would not have agreed to you getting rid of your child.”

“Thanks, sis, I love you.”

Are You A Deadbeat Mom

2011-03-09T06:14:00.000-06:00

No matter how hard it is being a single parent, I don’t think I could ever turn the responsibility of raising my son over to someone else. Despite my feelings, I do understand how a mother can feel overwhelmed, but I do not understand a mother that does not provide for her child emotionally or financially. Even if she cannot care for the child full time, the child should have no doubt in their minds that the mother loves them.

Don’t get it twisted, deadbeat moms do exist. I’ve read the stories about the mothers wanting to go back to school or travel the world and decided to turn the kids over to their fathers. Sometimes the arrangement is until the mother gets herself together and sometimes it’s a permanent adjustment. The situations that I am more familiar with are the ones where the mothers let drinking and drugs cloud their judgment, or those that find the new man in their life more important than their children. Whatever the reason, the child loses. There’s so much talk about deadbeat dads but from my life and what I’ve witnessed, the number of deadbeat moms are rising every day.

If the mother is not the custodial parent, I think she should be paying child support just like the father would if the situation was reversed. Most custodial fathers never get support and because of pride, they usually don’t complain about it. They just do what they have to do for their kids. Some custodial mothers are at the courthouse every time she thinks the dad has gotten a raise at his job, but that’s another story for another day.

I know women that get public assistance or child support for kids that don’t even live with them. They drop the kids off at their grandma’s or auntie’s house, days sometimes weeks at a time. When the grandma or auntie asks for some money to feed the kid or buy some diapers, the supposed to be custodial mother goes off like it’s not her responsibility to make sure her kids have what they need. Chicks like this make me want to see if there’s a such thing as shaking adult syndrome but I’m sure it wouldn’t do any good.

There were a couple of scenarios that I wanted to share with you but my family and friends do read my blog. Because I don’t want to get to fighting this weekend, I’ll keep the details to myself. I will say that I totally feel for people that didn’t have their fathers growing up but in my opinion, not having your mother there is so much worse. The kids I know in these situations, mostly girls, are constantly vying for their mother’s attention, sometimes they get it sometimes they don’t. They even go so far as to act up at school or talk back to grandma just so their mom can curse them out. To them, negative attention is better than none. I feel sorry for these girls. I also fear that they will treat their future children just as bad as or worse than their mothers treated them. It could also result in the opposite; they could spoil their kids so much that the kids are so rotten no one else wants to be bothered with them.

I’ve said all of that to say this, ladies, you are supposed to nurture your children. If you come to the conclusion that you are not the nurturing type, don’t you ever, ever, ever let your child/children think that you do not love them. Whatever you are going through is your problem, not theirs. They should not be punished and neglected. We hear too much about deadbeat dads, do everything in your power NOT to be a deadbeat mom.

A Fresh Start

2011-03-05T20:15:00.000-06:00

This is the fifth and final installment of this series. Click "To Serve and Protect" in the right column to read parts one through four.

"No you're not, all you need to do…"

"I'm serious. It's...it's colon cancer. I wanted a baby to carry on my name even if it wasn't really mine," Calvin said, looking at Jeremy.

"But you said…"

"I know what I said, Shanell. Just forget it. Why are you here anyway?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, well, I'm not. When y'all getting married? I want to come to the wedding?"

I would have laughed if the whole situation wasn't so sad. I realized at that moment that his sickness was the reason why he had been so mean. I forgave him instantly, and wished that things had not turned out the way they had. It was too bad. Calvin had been so sweet in the beginning. "How long do you have?" I had to know.

"Couple of months. They say I need an operation. Didn't want no operation. Don't have you, what would be the point?"

I looked at Jeremy. He didn't say anything, just stood there, and looked out the murky front window. I loved Jeremy and he loved me. I wasn't going to let Calvin get back into my heart no matter what. He could have been lying just to make me feel sorry for him. He could have been getting me back for tricking him. But deep down I knew it wasn't an act.

Jeremy and I left when Calvin started nodding off. He looked so old, so sickly. Jeremy hadn't said a thing since we had walked through the door. I had to know what he was thinking.

"What's on your mind?"

"You're not going back are you?"

"Of course not. I couldn't go through that again. I won't put you through that. He's sick, and I feel bad for him but I can't put my life and happiness on hold for him."

"Thank you. That would have been a nightmare. I don't think I can live without you. I guess he and I have something in common."

I just looked at Jeremy for a moment then I reached over to hold his hand. I hoped that he and I would never have to endure the things I had gone through with Calvin. Jeremy was different from Calvin in many ways. Calvin was always a little rough around the edges but Jeremy was always sweet. Most importantly, Jeremy and I had never had any altercations. He had always understood and respected how I felt, even when he didn't agree with it. There wasn't any other man, that I knew of, that would go with his girlfriend to visit her sick husband. And even though I had no way of knowing what the future held, I knew at that moment I wanted to be with Jeremy forever.

"So, when are you going to give me my ring?" I asked.

Jeremy looked at me perplexed, "What ring?" Then comprehension showed on his face. "You mean…"

"Let's get married, baby," I said. Then I kissed him.

Jeremy and I got married a month after Calvin died. I think I cried a few tears for my former husband along with the happy ones that I shed. A few of Calvin's brothers and sisters came to the wedding. I thought they would have been angry with me for leaving him, but they understood. His sister, Janet spoke to me during the reception.

"Shanell, I know you were surprised to see us but we came to show you that there were no hard feelings," she said, handing me an envelope.

"I'm glad, thank you."

"Calvin was the baby of the family, which meant that he was very spoiled. He'd often thrown temper tantrums as a child when he didn't get his way. I knew that he had carried that selfishness into adulthood. I loved my brother and I miss him terribly, but I'm glad you got away from him before he stole all of your joy."

I began to cry all over again. Tears had filled my eyes in those two years more than they had my whole life. I hugged Janet and we held each other for a long time. I had loved Calvin so much for so long, but I didn't think he loved me half as much until I opened the envelope his sister had given me.

Calvin had left me a very hefty life insurance policy. I knew he had good benefits at his job but, oh boy. He had also set up a trust fund for any children that I would have or adopt. I was speechless. Calvin really had loved me in his own way. He made it possible that Jeremy and I would make more money sitting at home making babies than we would working.

I had my first child a year after the wedding. I was so thankful for my little Jamie and was glad that I had the means to give my little princess whatever she wanted. And I thanked God we had a big, strong, sweet police officer that would always love and protect us.

What Does He Have To Offer?

2011-03-01T20:34:00.000-06:00

“Never stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t bring anything to the table and just eats off of you.”

I saw this tweet the other day and it got me to thinking. My goal has always been to find a hard-working man to settle down with. Since I am a career minded woman, I was never the type of chick that wanted a man to take care of me. As luck would have it, I have run across a handful of guys that wanted me to take care of them. I mean they would seem really promising in the beginning and me being the kind-hearted (dumb) person I can be sometimes, I helped a brother out. Of course eventually I got sick of it and told son he had to roll.

My nearly four years as a mother has put me in the mindset that I don’t want to take care of a male unless it’s my son. (Okay, I may drop my dad a few bucks every once in a while but that’s it.) As I mentioned before, I’m a career minded woman, but I do get the fleeting desire to want to be a stay at home mom. Then I remember that I am a single mom and I don’t think I would be satisfied with public assistance. I have tried to come up with a number of business ideas that I could possibly make a decent some of money from but not only am I an impatient person (I want my money and I need it now.); I also have a short attention span. Therefore, unless I change my mindset, I would never make any money working from home.

Then a thought occurred to me, if I had the money to hire a nanny that would be cool. Here’s the problem with that. First of all, I don’t have that kind of money. Second of all, I would feel funny having some chick living in my house, watching my son, and doing my housework. (I mean I would love the housework and kid watching part but the first one, not so much.) Third of all, if I hired a dude to be my nanny, I would be trying to make him my boo because he would be doing all of these great things for me and my son.

Of course this brought on another thought. What about a stay at home dad? Not my dad, but a dad for Don. I mean I would do background checks, credit checks and whatever other kind of checks I can think of. But what if I met a guy that I really liked, who was great with kids and cooking and housework (and bedroom work), but sucked in the business world. I don’t mean sucked, let me rephrase that. A guy that would be better suited as a house husband aka stay at home dad. Then it occurred to me, I would hate that.

That all goes back to my first point, I don’t want to take care of a man. Despite the fact that he would be contributing his TIME to the household, I need something monetary. Even if he works part time or if he has the discipline to work from home (unlike me) that would be a good deal. But just sitting around the house, waiting for me to come home, I just wouldn’t feel right about that. My upbringing was by no means traditional but my folks still taught me that the man should be the head of the household. And to me that also implies that he is the main provider.

Now, I wouldn’t be able to let a guy that didn’t work tell me how to spend my money. I mean, why would he have a say so? If I was the one at home, I would let him make the final decision on things and I would support him whether I completely agreed or not. That may sound dumb to some women, but if I know that he is the kind of guy that won’t be quick to make a crazy decision that would have a negative impact on our family, I wouldn’t be afraid to…submit (shudder).

I couldn’t be with a guy that didn’t contribute financially to the household, but if you have a big pot of gold and wouldn’t mind your man/husband staying home, I say, “Do you”.

One More Chance

2011-02-26T09:56:00.000-06:00

This is the fourth installment of "To Serve and Protect". Check out From Good to Gonzo, Making a Break for it, and Let's Straighten It Out, if you haven't already.

I returned home to Calvin. A few days passed before I called Jeremy. Calvin had forbid me to speak to my former lover again, but I had to get some closure. Jeremy had been there for me when I was too ashamed to turn to anyone else, and I felt obligated to give him some sort of explanation.

"Jeremy?" I said, when he answered the phone.

"What?"

"I…"

"Don't say you're sorry."

"But I am. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way."

"I thought you wanted to be in a normal relationship, not with some nut that pulls a gun on his own wife and makes her take a dump in her pants."

"Jeremy…"

"I thought you wanted more. I thought you wanted someone to love and respect you."

"I understand that you're upset. I hate that I put you in the middle of our problems."

"Whatever," he mumbled, before I heard the click of the phone.

For the next few months, Calvin was on his best behavior. Whenever I asked him to do something for me, he did it. He said that he didn't want me to strain myself and jeopardize the baby's health.

"Sweetie, is the baby growing the way it's supposed to? You don't seem to have gained any weight," he asked one day.

I didn't answer him. I wasn't feeling too good about how things were going between us because no matter how many AA meetings and marriage counseling sessions we attended, he just didn't like an act. I just had the feeling that as soon as something else started to bother him, we would re-enact the previous events and I just couldn't live like that.

I often called and left messages on Jeremy's house and cell phones. For a while he just ignored them, but eventually Jeremy did calm down. There had been so many things running through my mind and I was so happy to have Jeremy to talk to again. I missed him too, so one day I came clean with Calvin.

"There is no baby."

"What are you talking about?"

"I lied. I'm not pregnant."

"What kind of crap is that? I knew you were dingy, but damn. Who in their right mind would play with somebody about being pregnant but a crazy broad like you?"

I said nothing. Calvin's true colors were showing. He was too busy ranting and raving to notice when I picked up my cell phone, dialed Jeremy's number, let it ring twice before I hung up. Calvin was still throwing insults when Jeremy knocked on the door.

"What do you want?" Calvin asked when he yanked the wooden door open. I went to the living room closet and grabbed a bag that I had packed days ago. I pushed pass Calvin.

"Where are you going? Oh, you planned this? You gonna make a fool out of me and run off with this so called public servant? Looks like he's been serving himself with my wife."

"Make a fool out of you? You've made a fool out of me for an entire year; probably throughout the seven years I've known you. So don't you dare talk to me about making a foul out of somebody," I said, as I walked out onto the front porch.

Calvin grabbed me and tried to pull me back into the house. But I wasn't having it. "Boy, you better let me go." I yanked my arm from his grasp.

Before either of us said another word, Jeremy had pushed me to the side and grabbed Calvin by the collar. He punched him in the face and let him fall to the floor. I screamed at Jeremy before he bent down to hit Calvin again.

"I see you have no problem hitting and intimidating women but when it comes to fighting men, you're nothing but a coward," Jeremy said. Calvin sat up and stared at the floor like a pouting child.

I told him that I would be back the next day to get the rest of my things. He rolled his eyes at me, got up off the floor, and slammed the door in my face.

I filed for divorce that next week. Jeremy wanted me to marry him as soon as it was final, but I told him that we should wait a little while. I moved in with him instead and he seemed to be happy with that.

"Girl, I think your boy, Calvin has totally lost his mind," Marie said, during one of her frequent visits, since I wasn't with Calvin.

"What did he do now?"

"He looks so bad every time I see him. It's like he's sprung on crack or something."

"He's probably just drinking a whole lot more," I said. I didn't want to believe that Calvin was in that bad a shape.

"I don't think he works for Chevrolet any more either. Jimmy says every time he drives by the house, Calvin is sitting out on the porch looking crazy. Girl, he won't even cut the grass."

"That's his problem. He's just reaping what he sowed. He shouldn't have been so low down to me."

"I know girl, but you need to go over there and check on him. I know y'all getting a divorce but he's still your husband right now."

I just looked at her. Marie hated Calvin, yet she had compassion for him. I decided that I would go see him, but Jeremy was going with me.

Jeremy had mixed feelings about visiting Calvin, "What do you think this is going to accomplish? You know all he's gonna say is that he misses you and wants you back."

"He may, but I don't want him back. Calvin hurt me but I don't have to hate him. I just want to see if he's all right."

"Do you need me to rough him up a bit?" Jeremy asked, looking as if he was ready to knock a brother out.

"No, I just need you there for moral support. If he becomes too much for me to handle, you can arrest him."

When we pulled up in front of the house, I couldn't believe what I saw. The house that had been my home looked as if it was falling down to the ground. He didn't say anything, just stepped aside to let us in. I almost didn't want to enter, but Jeremy gave me a slight nudge that reminded me that it had been my idea to come.

"What do you want?" Calvin slurred.

"Have you been drinking all day?" I asked him, my nose instinctively wrinkled from the stench.

"Since you left me."

"But why? You didn't really want me anymore, and I wouldn't have stayed if you did. You did me dirty and I had to get back at you."

"I'm dying, Shanell."

My Birthday Adventure

2011-02-26T07:15:00.000-06:00

Since yesterday was my birthday, I decided to go to a few places I had never gone before. After I dropped Don off at my dad’s house and ate breakfast, my adventure began.

1) Trimming the bushes

I had heard that there was a place in the mall called BrowArt, that arched eyebrows using thread. A few people have teased me about my thick eyebrows so I decided to go to a professional because if I had done them, I would have been looking real surprised.

I was the first person in the lady’s chair when she opened. She asked me if I wanted them thick or thin and I told her thick because I didn’t want a very drastic change. I guess she had the thread in her pocket because as soon as she showed me wear to hold my eyelid down, she got to plucking. Let me tell you, that shhh hurt like hell. I jumped and squirmed every time she ran that thread across a strand of hair. If I was going that crazy getting my eyebrows done, I would have been in a strait jacket trying to get the hair on my legs threaded. Lord Have Mercy.

I was pleased with the results even though I’m mean mugging in this picture. The after effect of the hair snatching was still plaguing me. I read up on this technique and discovered that this should keep the excess hair away for two weeks. Will I be going back in two weeks? No ma’am and no sir. Will I ever go back? Maybe around May, when Don’s birthday rolls around. That should give me enough time to recover.

These are my eyebrows at their worst.

What a difference some thread makes.

2) Dreamy Chocolate

I’ve eaten Godiva candy before but I had never been to the Godiva Chocolatier Shop. The lady could be seen through the window, preparing the displays. After getting half my brains plucked out, I figured I deserved some chocolate. When I walked into the shop, I looked at the lady and said, “I’ve been dreaming about Godiva chocolate.” She smiled and said, “Well, you’ve come to the right place at the right time. What would you like?” I had been hearing people talk about chocolate covered strawberries so much that I had to have some. At $7.00 a pop, I could only afford two. She enrolled me in some kind of rewards program that would give me one free truffle a month if I spent $10 or more a month at Godiva. Since I spent $15 with tax, I got the free truffle. I told her it was my birthday so she let me pick one more.

At those prices, I probably won’t be buying any Godiva chocolate anytime soon, but it sure was good for the five minutes it lasted.

3) Ice Cream Connoseur

I walked to my car swinging my nice gift bag, trying to decide where to go to next. Museums and such went through my mind but I decided to save that for when I had the kid with me. Driving down Poplar, I decided on Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream Shop. Now, I have bought Ben & Jerry’s from Walgreens a number of times but I had never been to the actual shop. Examining the menu on the wall, I settled on an “Addicted to Chocolate” milkshake. I told the guy that was my first time in the shop and he told me once I drank that shake that I would be a snobby, ice cream connoseur that wouldn't settle for any other brand. I waited until I got outside before I took a sip. Believe me, honey, that shake was good, but (shrug) ice cream is ice cream to me. I’ll probably be going back to Ben & Jerry’s but that won’t be the only ice cream I eat.

4) All Natural

When I walked into Whole Foods, I could have sworn that place smelled like incense. I had heard a lot about the place and decided to take a peek. Plus, I figured I’d see what I could get to counteract all the junk food I had eaten. Well… Whole Foods is high. All I bought was 4 oranges, a jar of Shea butter and a bottle of biotin dietary supplements, my total was more than $50. Don killed two of the oranges as soon as he spotted them and the Shea butter got rid of the ash on my hands right away. The directions said that I can put it in my hair too, so I may try that the next time I wash it.

Now the biotin is another story. I’ve heard that biotin helps hair and finger nails to grow, so hopefully they will do the job for me. Don looked at the bottle of vitamins and said that they probably tasted like garbage. I guess, in his opinion, if the bottle doesn’t have Fred Flintstone on it, it’s worthless.

I’ve already got a habit of not taking vitamins long enough to see any results, so lil’ dude’s comment about it tasting like garbage has me scared. Whole Foods seems like a good place to go again but my pockets have got to be ready for it.

5) Italian Cuisine

I’ve passed by the Spaghetti Warehouse a number of times during my downtown drives, but today was my first time going in. I ordered a Sangria and the lady brought me fresh baked bread and garlic butter. My salad and lasagna came out rather quickly and I was even quicker in devouring the whole meal. The price of a little over $16 was very reasonable so I will definitely be going back.

All in all, yesterday was a really good birthday. The celebrating will continue into the next month when my coworkers give me a birthday party. Even if they don’t, I better get my cakes that I was promised or there are gonna be some problems. LOL

Social Media's Effect on Relationships

2011-02-22T04:57:00.000-06:00

Please don’t be silly enough to let Facebook, Twitter and other social media networks contribute to the ruin of your relationship.

I saw a tweet (That’s a Twitter update if you’ve been living under a rock.) Sunday that mentioned how people shouldn’t let social media destroy their relationship. I had heard this before, but hadn’t thought much of it. But after reading that tweet, I decided to see what other people had to say about it. So I posed this question—“Can someone please explain to me how a social network can ruin your relationship?” The first response I got was from my friend Shannon (@youngshay112).

“A social network can broadcast selfishness, expose infidelity, but it can't create those flaws.”

To me, this means that people put too much of their personal business (both positive and negative) in their tweets and Facebook status updates. The whole world can see what’s going on in their lives. Now, if you don’t know, here’s a tip. If you are always talking about what you and your boo did; what your boo bought you; what your boo said to you to make you smile, I guarantee there is someone out there that wishes you weren’t so damn happy. So whenever given the opportunity, they are going to say little things that will make you question your relationship.

For example: Valentine’s Day just passed and you posted that you and your sweetie had a great time at (insert restaurant or wherever) and you really enjoyed your (insert present received). Some jealous chick or dude saw this and commented, “Humph, he did all that? I wonder what kind of dirt he’s trying to make up for.”

You may respond one or two ways. You may shoot off on the person and tell them to keep your boo’s name out of their mouth or that they need to stay out of your business. Or, you may say that your sweetie hasn’t done anything wrong and you may question the person asking them why they would say such a horrible thing.

Whichever way you respond “out loud”, in your mind, even if you are just a little insecure about your relationship, you will begin to wonder if your prince charming is really a frog-legged, two-timing cheater in disguise.

Let’s say he is messing around with some Facebook floozy, keep in mind that this wasn’t a matter of the busy body speaking this negativity into existence, but a case of something in the dark coming into the light.

This takes me to the next response I got to my question, my namesake, Susie (@SusieWriter) said, “people become obsessed with comments & w/e and become paranoid that that's a sign that you're cheating.”

This means that dude is always “stalking” his girl’s social media accounts to see who responds to her tweets or whose statuses she comments on. If it looks like she’s talking to this one dude a little too much, he sees that as a cause for alarm. This brings to mind a YouTube video that I saw some years ago titled “Facebook Breakup”.

To be fair, I asked my Facebook friends what they thought of this subject. Catherine stated:
“I honestly can't see how, but perhaps I lack imagination. I mean, maybe someone could find out something you meant to keep a secret, but then wouldn't it just be your own behavior that's ruining the relationship? Blaming FB or Twitter because you got caught doing something or were indiscreet would be silly imo”.

That’s my opinion as well. People have been messing around for years and getting caught, way before the advent of the internet let alone social media. It used to be where you would get an anonymous phone call from someone saying they say your boo with the next door neighbor or your sister. Now a days they sneak and take a picture of the creeping couple and post a link to it so you and all of your friends can see the drama unfold.

The last response is from my friend and coworker, Amanda.
“Insecurities.. jealousy ..lies. FB should b fun...”

There are a lot of insecure people that seem to always wonder if their mate is messing around on them, whether they are or not. Jealousy can come from two angles. First, one partner or both partners are jealous are always looking for dirt so they can accuse the other of doing something wrong. Second, other people outside of the relationship could be jealous and try to throw some salt in the game. Which leads me to the next point--lies. Some folks just lie on you for no damn reason and what better place to spread those lies than Facebook and Twitter? People love drama, whether it’s true or not. Social media, both Facebook and Twitter, should be fun. If you take some of the goings on too seriously, you will end up being a very unhappy person. Take everything you read on the internet with a grain of salt. You don’t want to be breaking up or getting a divorce because your boo comments on someone else’s updates or tweets more than they do on yours.

I’ve said all of that to say this—
1) Stop putting all of your business on the internet if you don’t want anyone saying something to you about it.
2) If you’re in a relationship, keep your goodies between you and your mate. This will keep the drama status to a minimum or it will be non-existent.
3) Let’s say (God forbid) that you’re going through a crisis (mid-life or otherwise) and you’re anxious to see if you still got it, and you see some pretty young thing or pretty old thing that can get it, make sure there are no pictures taken that could incriminate you. (shaking my head)

Please be safe out there.

Let's Straighten It Out

2011-02-19T09:18:00.000-06:00

This is part three of "To Serve and Protect". Check out part one and part two if you haven't already.

Calvin said that he had acted so crazy because he was upset about us not having children. He said that since he came from a big family, where each one of his siblings had at least two kids, he had always felt like his life wasn't complete. Calvin knew that I hadn't been on birth control since we got married, so he went to the doctor to find out if something was wrong with him. He had been told that he had a low sperm count. As a teenager, he had lost one testicle in an accident and had obviously damaged the other one as well.

"Okay, let me get this straight," I said. "You went loony tunes because we don't have kids. I didn't know that it was that big of a deal to you, especially since you always had your nieces and nephews around."

"It's just no the same as having your own. I didn't tell you how I felt because I didn't think you would understand how important it was to me."

"You still should have told me. Then we could have avoided all of this chaos. We could have talked to some doctors and found out what our options were. How do you know there isn't something wrong with me? But the main thing I have a problem with is the fact that you hit me, Calvin. I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, it's just that when you accused me of cheating, I felt insulted. I would never disrespect you that way."

"So you think waking me up in the middle of the night, with a gun to my head was respectful. How do you see the logic in that?"

"There's nothing I can say to justify what I did to you," he said quietly. "Just let me see you. You know I can make it up to you."

"I don't know. I guess I could meet you at the park or something."

"That'll be fine. I love you, baby."

"That's what your mouth says."

"I can prove it."

Jeremy was very upset about Calvin calling. "You told me you changed your number because you didn't want to talk to him anymore," Jeremy said, pacing in front of the couch where I sat.

"I didn't want to talk to him. Remember when I told you that Calvin was friends with my sister's boyfriend? He probably gave him my new number."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious. I didn't give Calvin my number. I hadn't even talked to him since I left."

Jeremy stopped pacing and looked directly into my eyes, "Do you miss him?"

"Honestly...yes."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know yet." I wanted to tell him that I had agreed to meet with Calvin, but decided not to. I didn't want him to talk me out of it.

I thought a million thoughts on my way to see Calvin. Then, I made up my mind to go back to him. I had to try at least one more time, otherwise, I would always wonder about what could have been. Halfway through the twenty-five minute drive, I gave Marie a call. I wanted to get her input on my choice.

"Now you already know I think you should tell Calvin to kiss your behind and stay with Jeremy, but I'm sure you've already made up your mind," my friend said.

"Well, yeah, but I'd still like to know what you think about it."

"You need to do something to get back at that fool. The way he treated you, I'm surprised you didn't kill him."

"I didn't want to go to that extreme. You probably wouldn't have visited me if I went to jail."

"You know that I ain't with that jailhouse stuff. I would have sent you some money though to buy cigarettes or soap or whatever."

"Thanks."

"But you need to do something to let him know you ain't to be played with."

Yeah something, but what? As I pulled into the parking space at Overton Park, I noticed Calvin sitting in his van. I got out of my car, walked over and got in with him. We resumed our conversation that we began on the phone. Calvin mentioned the fact that since we wouldn't be able to have children, he would have liked to adopt.

"Or I could get artificially inseminated," I said.

"Yea, that's a good idea. Do you want to do that?"

"Too late, I'm already pregnant." I looked at Calvin, expecting to see a hurt expression, but instead, a stunned, then excited demeanor appeared.

"That's great! You haven't told old boy have you? I want this to be our baby, not anybody else's."

"That's not right, Calvin, I have to tell Jeremy. Keeping him away wouldn't be fair to him or the baby."

"What about us, Shanell? This is my gift from God, please don't take it away from me," he said. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me softly. I resisted at first, but then gave in to my husband's advances. He was once again acting like the man I had fallen in love with. Calvin removed my top. Then the temperature between my thighs rose as he freed first one breast, then the other from their restraint. He began to flick his warm, moist tongue across my nipples. The heat became even more prevalent when he slowly pushed up my skirt and felt around until he found the waistband of my panties. I spread my legs, inviting Calvin's probing hand into my hot opening.

I began to kiss my husband more passionately as he simultaneously helped me up and lead me to the middle seat of the van. We hadn't touched like that in more than a year and at that moment, I hoped that we would never be apart again. Calvin was pleased with the idea of being a father, even with the help of another man. I tried to think about what I was going to tell Jeremy, but when Calvin entered me, I had thoughts of no one else but him and how good it felt to have the old Calvin back.

We were about to start round two, after a short intermission, when someone banged on one of the van doors. I knew that I was very vocal sometimes and guessed that someone had heard my screams of pleasure. Angry because my mood had been ruined, I cracked open one of the doors, prepared to give the perpetrator a piece of my mind. When I looked out and saw that it was Jeremy, dressed in his uniform, I lost all train of thought. Shock, recognition and hurt were the emotions that showed on Jeremy's face. He didn't even issue us a citation for our little rendezvous; he just got into his cruiser and sped away.

Friend Zone

2011-02-15T21:18:00.000-06:00

Don’t let a love interest put you in the friend zone that is if you hope it will get serious one day. Once you are put in the friend zone it’s hard to be anything else in the eyes of the person you are interested in.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day and I only gave gifts to my dad and son. Even though I enjoyed seeing the smiles on their faces and chocolate around their mouths, it would have been even better to have a sweetie to spend time with.

I have a couple of guys in my life that like me as a friend and apparently nothing more, at least not on a regular basis. We talk on the phone, hang out sometimes, but that’s about it. They talk to me about the other chicks they’re dating like it shouldn’t bother me. I listen attentively for a while but abruptly change the subject once I have had enough. I always ask them if the chick is so low down, or mean, or selfish, or stuck up, why are they still with her? “I don’t know” is usually the answer. Or “One day I’m gonna get custody of my kids so she can pay me child support.” (Hmmm, shake my head.) From that statement, I determine that it’s obviously not the woman who has issues.

There’s a red t-shirt in the bottom of one of my dresser drawers. When I put it on “Single and Fabulous” sparkles in metallic silver lettering across my chest. Of course, when I bought the shirt I was on a strike from serious relationships. Five years later, I’ve outgrown the shirt both physically and mentally. I mean, I’m still single and I am beyond fabulous, but I’m not completely happy about it.

I would love to be with a guy that not only wants to be my friend but also my lover and companion; someone besides this 3 year old to snuggle up to at night.
Realistically, I know I may not be completely ready for a relationship because I’m a little crazy, but I’m working on it. In my 20s I was really nice and timid, but I’ve grown a little hair on my chest (not literally) in my 30s. My tolerance for foolishness is very low and I would have to be with a guy that really had his shhh together in order for me to be even half-way happy.

Being friends with a guy that I don’t like is okay if he doesn’t call or want to come by that much. If I really want to get with him, especially on those days when even his armpits smell good, I crave much more than conversation. Since the Lord is still working on me, I won’t rush and try to choose just any old dude. Don’t want to scar the poor guy for life with all of this malarkey, but boy when the time comes, oooo weee. Well that’s a story for another day.

Making a Break For It

2011-02-12T20:17:00.000-06:00

This is part two of "Two Serve and Protect".

Calvin took the gun from my head, opened it and showed me the empty chamber. Then he did something that really made me see how crazy he was--he laughed. I mean a big belly laugh, like me using the bathroom on myself was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed. He walked out of the bedroom shaking his head.

"Why are you being so mean to me? What happened to the sweet, thoughtful man I fell in love with? Now, you're nothing but a psychopath."

I realized that Calvin had missed most of what I had said, when I heard the van pull out of the pebble filled driveway.

After I figured he was long gone, I eased out of the bed. I was sick of that fool. Once I had placed a call to 911, I immediately jumped in the shower, not wanting to smell like I had a dirty diaper when the police arrived. I had never been afraid of my husband before, but I was then, and I hated the feeling. I felt naïve for not noticing he had those tendencies before I married him. How could I let him treat me like that? Love was a hell of a thing.

Fifteen minutes later, I yanked the door open before Officer Jeremy Wilkins had completed his knock on the glass of the storm door.

"We got a call about a domestic disturbance. Are you Shanell Parker?"

"Yes, sir, my husband and I just got into it. He woke me up with a gun to my head. It was empty, but I was scared to death."

"Do you want to press charges, Mrs. Parker?"

"Well, no. He didn't really do anything; I just wanted you guys to have a record of the incident in case he does something like this again and I end up having to defend myself."

Officer Wilkins looked at me and nodded. He wrote a phone number on a sheet of paper from his notepad and handed it to me. I looked at him in surprise.

"Why are you giving me your personal number?"

"I want to be the one you call if you have more problems out of your husband. By the way, where does he work? Relax; I just want to talk to him. I won't even wear my uniform."

"Okay, but I know he's gonna come home clowning, so keep your phone handy."

"Yes, ma'am, I sure will."

Sure enough, when he returned later that day, Calvin began yelling before he could get the front door opened. I just looked at him and shook my head, "If you had not been acting a damn fool…"

"Fool! You're the one who's crazy. A man can't even hang with his boys without you calling, and now you're putting the police in our business. You need to get you a life."

"Tell your other chick to get a life," I screamed, slapping Calvin.

He touched his face and winced. I could see print forming where my hand had landed. Before I was able to register the expression on Calvin's face, I found myself licking blood from a loosened front tooth. Calvin had never hit me before. Normally, even when he'd said he was angry, I couldn't tell it because he always had half a smile on his face. I guess once weapons were introduced, that just opened the door for all sorts of things.

From the look on his face then, I could tell that Calvin wanted to say something, but decided not to. He stormed out of the front door instead. I dialed Officer Wilkin's number as fast as I could.

"Mrs. Parker, are you okay? What happened?"

"Just come get me. I'll be ready when you get here."

When Jeremy arrived, I told him to take me to my sister's house but he insisted on taking me home with him. He said that he wanted to make sure I would be okay. I was glad because Jean would have told my dad and I didn't want him to know what was going on. He'd never like Calvin, but had tolerated him for my sake. I didn't want my dad going over to the house, with a shotgun, trying to rectify the situation.

Jeremy didn't try to prey on my vulnerability, but left me alone to collect my thoughts in his spare bedroom. He took me to get my car and the rest of my clothes the next day, while Calvin was at work. I wasn't ready for any more confrontations. I knew that Jeremy would have had to arrest Calvin if he did anything to me. Even though Calvin had treated me like crap, I didn't want to see him behind bars.

Over the next few months, Jeremy and I became very close. We didn't share Jeremy's townhouse, but I did spend almost all of his free time over there. We took walks in the park, watched the sun set by the river, and either cooked dinner together or went out for a night on the town. It felt a little like déjà vu because Calvin and I had done some of the same things, at first.

Whenever Jeremy and I made love, he was so gentle, never rough and quick like Calvin had become. Calvin had begun to act like it was just another job when he made love to me, like he would much rather have been doing something else. Jeremy knew what I had been through with Calvin and wanted me to feel that there was another man that loved me, truly loved me. Not someone that just said the words then acted like he couldn't stand me.

I was in the tub when my cell phone rang. It was in the living room, so I yelled to Jeremy to answer it for me. He said hello, then a long pause followed. Jeremy opened the bathroom door and handed the phone to me.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey, baby, when you coming home? I miss you." It was Calvin.

It had taken him three whole months to take the time to get in touch with me and he acted like nothing bad had happened between us. When I looked up at Jeremy, he shook his head and walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The sequel to Good to Gonzo.

Dell Stop Tripping

2011-02-08T06:12:00.000-06:00

If I can buy a Dell computer and printer at a store, I should just as easily be able to buy their ink cartridges. What brick and mortar store sells Dell ink cartridges? If you know please tell me because I’ve been everywhere. I don’t mind buying them online but it takes one to two days for it to ship if you pay the extra $5.90. God forbid if it gets lost in the mail or there’s a holiday (shaking my head). It would be so much more convenient to pick it up at Office Depot on my way home from work and finish my project in no time. I guess I should start keeping extra ink on hand, just in case but man, that stuff is kind of expensive. The piggy bank has to get busted open to buy one black and one color cartridge, I would have to get a check advance to pay for two of each. I tried the re-fill thing in the past, but the colors never came out as bright, maybe the places I’ve been to didn’t know what they were doing (shrug).

I had to set up a Dell account online to buy the ink. Then, I had to decide whether I wanted to use my debit card or credit card, I chose debit since I had just gotten paid. The check-out screen told me that the estimated delivery date is 2/10/2011. Now, I know I’ve been out of elementary school for a long time, but last I checked I was still pretty good at basic math. Now, I paid $5.90 in shipping & handling to get the cartridges in two business days. It was a Sunday so if I counted from Monday, which was the 7th, 7 plus 2 is 9? Where did 10 come from? I won’t trip because that’s just one day. I’m usually a very reasonable person, but if they would just sell the stuff in the stores I wouldn’t have to go through all of this.

Monday, I got a phone call and an email from Dell saying that my payment wasn’t authorized by my card issuer. Not sure how that happened because I used my debit card and the money was sitting there waiting for them. Now, if Dell sold the doggone ink at Office Depot, I could have just gone to the ATM, got the money out and bought the stuff. So that meant I had to wait a whole extra day to finish my projects. I’ve got people breathing down my neck because they need Valentine’s Day cards, and baby shower invitations, and mailing labels. My word! I do have enough ink in the cartridges for a few Valentine’s Day card, so everyone else is going to have to wait (shaking my head).

I got a text message from my bank telling me that Dell’s payment went through at 9:26 pm. So now I’m waiting(twiddling my thumbs)until the 11th probably.

Dell, please stop tripping and stock your cartridges at Walgreens or Office Depot or some other brick and mortar building where I can just go in and get them and get on with my life.

From Good to Gonzo

2011-02-05T09:04:00.000-06:00

This is part one of "To Serve and Protect". I finally settled on a title. I hope you like the first installment. All comments are welcome.

When Calvin and I first met, I had just lost my maternal grandmother, my Nana, to ovarian cancer. Nana had raised me, so it was really like losing my mother. I was on my way home from the funeral home, after finalizing the arrangements, when Calvin pulled up beside me at a red light and blew his horn. I looked over and he motioned for me to let down my window. I did it, reluctantly.

"Smile, pretty lady," he said. "Everything is gonna be all right."

I looked at him and smiled, but then I was overcome with emotion and tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't believe Nana was gone. I missed her so much.

"Pull over into that service station, sweetie. You need to calm down before you tear somebody's car up."

I did as he advised, against my better judgment. He could have been a rapist or murderer, but something in his voice made me feel comfortable. I watched him get out of his van and head toward me, so I got out of my car too. Without hesitation, Calvin grabbed me and hugged me. I hadn't wanted to wet up his shirt with my tears, so I started to pull away. He pulled me closer.

"You got a name pretty lady?"

"Shanell, and you are?"

"I'm Calvin. It's so nice to meet you."

It was nice to feel a warm body after feeling so cold for the last couple of days, but I didn't tell him that. As he caressed the back of my head, he spoke softly into my ear. Calvin told me that no matter what was wrong, he would do whatever it took to make it all better. I finally got myself together enough to give Calvin my number and take his. Before we parted ways, he kissed me. The kiss was so strong and intense that it felt like he was trying to alleviate all of the pain that I was feeling. If I had been in a different state of mind, I would have slapped him silly, tore his number up, and threw it in his face. Instead I found myself craving the comfort that I knew he could give me.

Calvin called me later that day. He listened intently as I relayed the details of my feelings that morning. He seemed to really care how I felt, and from that day on, Calvin and I spent a lot of time together, going to the park, seeing movies, and going out to eat at least once a week. Sometimes we would just stay home and cook dinner together. His specialty was shish kabobs, and I loved them. He was excited when I made Fettuccine Alfredo with grilled chicken.

I accompanied Calvin to his family reunion that August, after only dating a month. "I only take women I care about to my family reunions. The last time I took someone was my junior year in high school," he said. I felt very special because it had been at least ten years since he had graduated.

The Parker family reunion was a three-day event. On Friday, there was a picnic, Saturday was the banquet and Sunday, everyone went to the church where one of Calvin's uncles was pastor. Calvin had a huge family--two sisters, five brothers, and too many aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews, cousins and in-laws to name.

"Why don't you have any kids?" I asked Calvin.

"Because I've been waiting for you." I thought that was so sweet, I wanted to cry.

Calvin loved kids and often had nieces and nephews over for the weekend. They would order pizza and play Nintendo most of the time. It was all right, but I wasn't used to a lot of children running around. I only had one sister and neither of us had children. Both of our parents had been only children so we didn't have much family.

Calvin and I got married after three years of dating. I was happy with him. I tried to get pregnant for a while, but when nothing happened, I just figured that it wasn't meant to be. Call me selfish, but I kind of liked the fact that I had Calvin all to myself.

I kept myself busy while he worked. Calvin made good money as an auto mechanic, so I didn't have to work if I didn't want to. But I did bring in a little money here and there from the sale of my handmade crocheted items that I sold to neighbors and friends. Nana had left me a substantial sum of money, which I had invested wisely. I had also rented out the house that Nana and I had lived in to some old friends.

Even though things had started off perfect, the last twelve months or so of our relationship, Calvin seemed to do a 180-degree turn around. He avoided me whenever possible. When I called him on his cell phone, just to let him know that he was on my mind, he snapped at me and hung up the phone in my face. I didn't know what had gone wrong in our marriage and Calvin refused to enlighten me.

Growing up, Nana had often told me and my sister, "Don't start nothing you can't finish." So I always tried to be the same person and do the same things for Calvin that I had done to win his heart in the first place. If boredom was the problem, I hoped that we were close enough for Calvin to tell me how he felt. I considered myself to be open-minded and was willing to do anything to make our marriage work. Of course, I couldn't do it alone, but Calvin did nothing to help. In fact, he made things worse.

Whenever I needed someone to talk to, I called my friend, Marie. Marie and I had worked together for a few years before my resignation from Wal-Mart.

"What do you think is wrong with Calvin?" I asked one night while Calvin was out.

"Girl, ain't no telling. I do see him at the club sometimes. He comes in with his boys, but he dances with this one female almost the whole time," Marie confessed.

"Do you thing he's dating her? Have you ever seen them leave together?"

"The club closes at three and Julia and I always leave at around two to avoid being trampled. Calvin and the chick are usually still there when we leave."

I didn't want to believe that Calvin was cheating on me, but I knew that there was always that possibility.

Calvin often did things to express his irritation with me, from cursing me out for no apparent reason to threatening to leave me. It saddened me at first and made me wonder if he was seeing someone else seriously, but I grew used to it. I told myself he was just going through a phase, and would be okay before long. But I soon found out that it was so much more than just a grown man's temper tantrum.

A couple days after my conversation with Marie, Calvin woke me up at 3:00 AM, pressing a cold pistol to my temple. I knew he had been drinking by his alcohol-tainted breath. "Hey, baby," he cooed.

I was speechless. Tears sprang into my eyes as I stared into my husband's face.

"Why did you call me half a dozen times? Don't you trust me?"

"I was lonely," I whimpered. "I just missed you, that's all," which was mostly true.

Sometimes I would feel an eerie aching when I was alone, but that night the conversation that I had with Marie had popped into my head when he said he was going out. I couldn't help but to call to check up on him. I knew there had to be an explanation behind why his feelings towards me had changed so drastically. The other woman probably had a lot to do with it.

"Maybe I should put you out of your misery. I wish I had known you were so worrisome before I married you," he said, grinding the barrel of the gun into my face.

I messed in my pants. I couldn't help it. I was afraid that Calvin was going to take my life just because he was sick of me. A moment passed before Calvin caught a whiff of my accident.

"Huh, you scared, ain't it?" he asked.

Check out part two and part three of this story.

Planning Blog Posts with OneNote

2011-02-04T19:23:00.000-06:00

For the next few weeks, my short story Saturday segment will focus on a short story that I wrote a few years ago. It’s over 5,000 words long so I’m gonna break it up over the next 4 or 5 weeks. I don’t want the posts to get too long, unless you, my readers, think otherwise. (Of course, I will continue with Quintina’s and Cortez’s story at a later date.)

“To Serve and Protect” is a story that falls into the mainstream/women’s fiction genre even though it is a mixture of drama and romance. The main character, Shanell Parker, is a woman whose perfect world is turned upside down when her husband, Carlos, snaps. The officer that responded, Jeremy Wilkins, and Shanell become friends and more until she decides to give her marriage another try. After a failed reconciliation, Shanell’s leaves for good and rekindles her romance with Jeremy.

To assist me in dividing the parts of the story into “bite-sized” blog posts, I am using Microsoft OneNote.

This is my first time using this software, so I’m still trying to get the hang of it. I plan on dividing “To Serve and Protect” into five parts. Since the story is already written, it’s just a matter of deciding where to stop the story Saturday and where to pick up next week.

As you can see, the first page is my summary. “Part One” and so on, will be the various blog posts. I haven't settled on the titles for each part yet, which is why I don’t have them on the tabs. I plan to use OneNote to work on Her Leftovers as well. For the novel, each tab will be a chapter.

Sometimes I write parts of my stories out of order. Separating the different parts or chapters will make it easier for me to figure out where I want to add a line or even a paragraph. My eyes get kind of crossed trying to figure that out in Word. I like this program because I can save it as a Word document or a PDF once I’m finished or as I go along.

OneNote does a lot of cool and fancy things that I haven’t figured out how to do yet. Believe me, I will.

Tax Time: Know Who You Owe

2011-01-31T23:07:00.000-06:00

Taxpayers, please keep in mind that if you owe back child support, student loans or back taxes to state or federal entities—they will get their money. Please don’t curse out H&R Block, Jackson Hewitt or even Internal Revenue Service, because you were expecting a $4,000 to $7,000 refund but were told that your refund will be reduced or completely offset because you owe a government agency.

I haven’t worked in the toll-free customer service department at IRS in 10 years, but I still remember getting cursed out on a daily basis. Based on a few conversations with my co-workers, things have gotten worse because of the recession.

As a newbie in the department, I dealt with the taxpayers that were expecting a refund and transferred the more complicated calls to the more experienced tax examiners. People would call to see if their returns have been processed and to find out when they could expect to receive the check or direct deposit. Most of the calls I handled ended on a happy note, but it never failed, by the end of the day, I always got at least two irate callers that were mad at me (at IRS, at the government, at their baby’s mama or daddy) because their money was going to be used to pay old debts. I used to get cursed out so bad that I cried. Not necessarily because they hurt my feelings, but because I couldn’t curse them out back.

Just so there won’t be any misunderstandings, I’m going to spell it out for those that may end up in this situation one day.

• If you have been ignoring those delinquent/default letters from Sallie Mae—your refund may be offset.

• If you know you haven’t made your child support payments in a while—your refund may be offset.

• If you owe state or federal taxes from a previous year—your refund may be offset.

• If your spouse owes any of these government entities—your refund may be offset—only if you do not file an Injured Spouse Claim (Form 8379) with the IRS.

If the IRS ever does reduce or offset your refund, you will get a letter in the mail letting you know how much money was sent to pay your debt. If there is any money left over, you will receive it by check or direct deposit.

Just in case you’re curious, you can either call your debtor or the Department of Treasury’s Financial Management Service (1-800-304-3107) ahead of time, just to see if your file has been submitted for a tax refund offset.

So if you call IRS, and the nice lady tells you, “I’m sorry but your refund has been offset to pay a debt owed to a federal agency,” just say “DAMN” and get off the phone. If you didn’t know you owed somebody, you should have.

Color-treated Natural Hair

2011-01-30T08:54:00.000-06:00

I read a blog post a couple of weeks ago where this woman talked about all the things she would never do to her hair. The main thing that she said she would never do that stuck out to me was color. She said that she would never color her hair, say blond, because none of her ancestors had blond hair. I found that kind of funny because almost every African American in the United States has some white ancestors whether it was the slave owner that crept into the bed with great-great-great-great-grandmother or there was a “real” interracial couple on the family tree.

Anyway…

I’ve been coloring my hair since I was in the 9th grade, because hey, I was sick of my two-tone hair. Of course when I did it, I didn’t think that I would have to color it so often to keep it from being chemically two-toned. Over the last six or seven years my reason for coloring my hair has changed, it’s because I have a whole lot of gray hair. At first it was just one string here and there, now every week I spot two or ten more.

I love changing my hair color, even though I try not to do it too often. The main colors I rock besides black or dark brown are honey blond and red. My hair has been honey blond for almost a year so now I’m itching to get some red. I’m going to have a red afro, cool. I think it’s going to look great but if I don’t like it, I may end up wearing a wig for a while until I feel comfortable putting a rinse in it to tone it down until either the color grows out or I get sick of it and cut it off. I’m hoping it doesn’t get to that point but I’m prepared for whatever happens.

In my recent video, I do address my hair color but the main objective is getting my hair straight. Check it out and let me know what you think. Advice or recommendations are welcome as well.

The Other Side of the Story

2011-01-29T08:49:00.000-06:00

This week’s Short Story Saturday is gonna be told from Cortez’s viewpoint. I’m trying to tap into my idea of the male perspective. I interviewed a couple guys to see why they cheat or have cheated in the past. One said because he wanted something different and at the first sign of conflict between he and his wife or girlfriend, he went in search of another woman. The other one said that his girl isn’t a very experienced lover and he doesn’t feel that he should have to tell her what he wants, she should have figured it out within the four years that they have been together.

“What’s up, Tez?” Dillon said once I had opened the door to let him in.

“Same old, same old.”

“A, man, was that Tamesha I just saw driving out the parking lot?”

“Shit, you spying on me or something? What’s up?”

“Man, ain’t nobody spying on you, I was just asking. That’s your business.”

“Yeah, it is, so stay out of it.”

“Damn, dog, forget I said anything.”

The last thing I needed was for anybody to know that I was still messing around with Tamesha. But she had insisted on coming over so I let her. Quintina was at work, so it was all good. We usually went to a hotel or her house but she was in the area so we figured why not take care of business right here.

D was killing me in NBA Jam because my mind was on Tamesha. I knew I shouldn't have let her know where I live because, I got the feeling that there was gonna be some drama somewhere down the line. I shouldn't have banged her here either, if Quintina found out she would lose all of her religion...but it was good though.

I was sleeping good when Quintina woke me up asking me about a rubber she found under the bed. At first I just blew it off, like girl you crazy, but then I remembered that Tamesha and I had been doing the damn thing on the floor so she wouldn’t mess the bed up. Obviously, I wasn’t as careful as I thought I was.

My eyes were still closed and I could only pretend to be half asleep so long. Quintina was a sweetie pie but when she got pissed off and demanded answers, I had to tell her something.

“Baby, it ain’t mine.”

“What do you mean it’s not your’s? Whose is it then? Did someone break into the house and screw some chick in our bedroom?”

I laughed, “No, baby, I let Dillon bring a girl over here. They didn’t have any money for a hotel so I let them do their thing here.”

“You did what? Why would you let Dillon bring his skank over here? He should have been at home with Shameka instead of out here banging some chick in my bed. A least you washed the covers.”

“They did it on the floor.”

“Oh wow that makes it better.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Dillon’s my best friend, through thick and thin. When he needs me, I’m there. I guess I’m used to this still being my bachelor pad, my stud stable, my house of pain,” I said rubbing her thigh.

She slapped my hand away, “Stop, nasty, this is serious.” Then she smiled. She believed me.

“Cortez, please don’t do this again. I don’t want anyone screwing other women in my house.”

“Okay, baby, I’m sorry.” I kissed her softly and when she didn’t respond. I grabbed her and pulled her down on the bed with me. She giggled. Yes, it was all good again.

After Quintina had fallen asleep, I called Dillon. Just in case she got on Dillon about bringing a girl over, I had to give him the head's up.

“A, man, if it comes up, you have to have my back on this,” I said to Dillon.

“Cortez, what are you talking about?” I had woken him up out of his sleep.

“I told Quintina that you brought a girl over here.”

“For what…awww. You and that damn Tamesha gone mess around and get y’all domes split. How long do you think Quintina is gonna put up with y’all shit?”

“Man, are you gonna help me or not?”

“I gotcha but damn, from now own leave me out of it. I don’t even know what you see in Tamesha.”

“Dog, her ass can swallow up a g-string. And man, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Tamesha’s nasty as hell. I love Quintina, but she’s kinda boring, I need some excitement sometimes.”

“Why don’t you just leave her and be with Tamesha?”

“Shit, Tamesha ain’t the wife type. She’s just the type of chick you can hang out with. Quintina’s the kind of chick you can have babies with and not worry about no baby mama drama.”

“All right, Tez, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Hell yeah I know what I’m doing. Did I say anything to you when you moved in with the chick that the whole hood ran through?”

“Man, that’s my baby’s mama. I was raised with both my parents so I owed the same thing to my kid.”

“Whatever, man. Do your thing and I’m gonna do mine.”

In all actuality, I didn’t know why I cheated on a woman that loved me as much as Quintina did. The only way that I could explain this dilemma was that I had a habit; it was like a disease that I couldn’t just get a shot in the ass to cure. It was also something that every man in my family did, even my father. I knew all about the other women and the other children that my father had. I had two sisters my age and a brother Charles’s age, but had never met any of them.

My brother Charles often said, “Always take care of home, bro. Don’t let these chicken heads keep you from doing what you are supposed to do to keep your lady happy”. With that in mind, after every rendezvous’ I had, I treated my baby like a queen whenever she came home. From cooking dinner to having Quintina’s bubble bath ready, I did whatever it took to keep her happy. Even when she suspected I was cheating, she didn't say too much because she couldn’t prove it.

Every time I break ties with Tamesha, I change my number or move to a different part of the city, she always finds me and literally suck me back in. I don’t think I could ever be in a relationship with her but she is one of the greatest lovers I’ve ever had. Quintina has learned a lot over the years, but she and Tamesha are in totally different leagues. Say for instance, Quintina goes down on me because she likes to make me happy. Tamesha does it because she likes to do it. Even when I’m ready for the real deal, I have to wait until she’s had her fill, you know what I’m saying. Tamesha’s just nasty and I can’t help but like it. Tamesha can always find that good dope too, which makes the sex even more intense.

To read more about Cortez see The Unexpected.

I Love It

2011-01-25T06:01:00.000-06:00

I decided not to rant about anything today because, hey, I'm in a good mood. Instead I will be paying homage to a very special entity--YouTube. If you have never taken advantage of the many uses of YouTube, you should start today.

If YouTube was a dude, I'd marry him.

I'm in love with YouTube because it has so many uses and I have learned so many things from it. Plus, when I want to hear a certain song, all I have to do is type in the title, or just a few lyrics, and it plays the song for me.

When I'm trying to find a new hairstyle to do with my nappturally (nappy and naturally) curly hair, I search for styles and watch the tutorials.

I listen to YouTube when I'm at work to drown out all of the foolish talk going on around me so I can concentrate on my work.

When my son is begging to see a certain cartoon that he hasn't seen in a while, I check YouTube and there it is. Yayyy! (He watches it for 5 minutes then goes in the other room to watch some other kiddie show.)

YouTube even has videos on how to make videos and how to upload them. I put together a few pictures and some music in Windows Live Movie Maker and TADAA a video. It's only a little over a minute long, but I'm proud of it. The music's kind of loud so you may want to adjust your volume (I haven't mastered that yet).

Alexa ranks YouTube as the third most visited website on the internet, behind Google and Facebook. I kind of agree with the ranking except I think Twitter should be a lot higher than number eleven, but that's a story for another day.

Do you use YouTube? If so, what interesting things have your learned from it?

The Unexpected

2011-01-22T16:17:00.000-06:00

Cortez and I had a joint account for paying bills, but we also had separate accounts that we used to support our habits--his was smoking and video games mine was shopping. I hadn't had the time to shop in quite some time so I had a nice little nest egg. Reluctantly, I withdrew the $3000 to pay SaLynne's debt. I also drew up a promissory note that detailed the payment arrangements and had her to sign it.

"If you don't pay me back, we're going to court," I said to her.

"Girl, I got you."

I wouldn't really sue her but I wanted her to know that she had to be responsible for her own foolish actions. I didn't want to see her fired or put in jail. Hopefully, once everthing was taken care of no one would find out what she had done. I also hoped that I didn't get myself in trouble for covering it up.

Traffic was insane when I got off work. Sleet had fallen at lunch time, so the streets were slick with ice. The news had reported that the city's public works division had actually run out of sand to cover the streets. Now, I wasn't an expert, but I didn't see sand being hard to come by. They could truck it in from Mississippi or one of the other coastal states.

It took me two hours to slide home, which was an hour and thirty minutes longer than usual. Cortez had called a couple of times but I was concentrating on driving and didn't want to pick up the phone while I was on the interstate. I should have just ignored his calls completely like he did when he was out and about, but I called him once I got off at my exit.

"Hey, hun, I'm not too far from home."

"Good, I was worried about you."

"I'm fine. See you when I get home."

I had the hardest time going down Tchulahoma, the two lane street that led to our townhouse. The twists and turns weren't easy to maneuver but I made it home without crashing into a tree or another motorist.

Cortez was lucky enough to be off that Thursday so he was at home, probably sitting in front of the TV. He was a Nintendo 64 junkie. NBA Jam 2000 was the lastest addiction. He, his friend Dillon, his brother Charles and sometimes some other random guy usually played the games from the time they got off work until the wee hours of the morning. They would be screaming and cursing until I walked into the living room and gave them a dirty look. Playtime was usually over by then.

As I had guessed, he was playing the game but Dillon was the only one playing with him.

"Hey baby," Cortez said once I walked in and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hey," I said, walking over to Dillon and pulling one of his locs.

"What's up? I'm good. How you doing?" Dillon asked.

"I've scratched my brains out all day, so I'm going to wash my hair." Both Dillon and Cortez laughed.

When I got to the bedroom, I added my suit to the bag of clothes that needed to go to the cleaners, kicked my heels into a corner in the closet, and shoved my tights and other unmentionables in the hamper. I put on my "around the house" dress that pooled around my ankles if I didn't have the hem up in a knot. I gathered up my shampoo, conditioner, big tooth comb, and towel and headed to the kitchen sink. Going natural had been on my mind for a while but I hadn't totally decided to do it yet. The two inches of new growth was going through creamy crack withdrawals, but I had planned to think about the natural thing for one more month.

Bent over the sink attempting to detangle my semi-naps, I felt a hand run across my butt and lift my dress up.

"Stop freak. Don't you see that I'm busy?"

"I'm busy too," he said rubbing his hand between my thighs.

I straightened up, squeezing water from my hair before turning to face him. "What about Dillon?"

"I put him out."

"Cortez, if you help me with my hair, then I can help you with your problem," I said tapping his extension with my comb.

"Hey, watch that," he said, protecting his crotch.

I loved it when Cortez washed my hair; he was always so gentle yet firm. He turned hair washing into foreplay. I watched him pour conditioner in his hands before I leaned over the sink again. Cortez massaged the cream into my hair and scalp on the left side of my head. He grinded against my butt a couple of times on his way to the work on the other side of my head. He combed through my hair several times to make sure every section of my hair was covered. After about ten minutes, he rinsed my hair and towel dried it. Then he wrapped the towel around my head, grabbed the comb and led me to our bedroom.

"Have a seat," Cortez said.

I sat on the ottoman in front of the chair and he went into the bathroom. He came out with a jar of grease and a scarf. Cortez sat in the chair behind me, his long legs stretched out with me in between. He oiled my scalp and wrapped my hair around my head. By this point, he usually had had his fill of playing in my hair so I was surprised when I glanced in the dresser mirror and saw that he had done a lot better job than I ever had.

"You should do this all the time," I said.

"Why, it ain't my hair."

"Ooo, you so low down."

"I'm just playing. You know I got you. Whenever you want me to, just say the word," he said tying the scarf on my head.

He hugged me from behind and kissed my neck. A spark ran through me when he cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples simultaneously.

"Quintina," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Yeah?"

"You ready to mess this hair up?"

Cortez was dead asleep when I woke up. It was almost ten. We had thrown clothes all over the room and I wanted to get the room looking halfway decent before I went back to bed. I walked from one side of the bed to the other to make sure I had gotten everything. I bent down to check under the bed and saw a small wrapper and picked it up. Magnum. Cortez and I hadn't used condoms since high school, so what was really going on?

This is a continuation of "Money Funny".

Teen Pregnancy Prevention

2011-01-17T21:25:00.000-06:00

In my not so humble opinion, I believe that parents should introduce their teens, especially their girls, to birth control and condoms as soon as they hit puberty. We all wish that our children would remain virgins until they are 25 or married, whichever comes first, but that is unrealistic. We must explain to our children that it would be better if they waited to have sex, but we should still give them the tools needed to protect themselves from disease and pregnancy.

Susie Q (1994)

My Twitter and Facebook friend, Lakisha M. Johnson (@MySoulOnPaper) posted a link on Facebook to the story about the 90 pregnant girls at Frayser High School here in Memphis. I had heard about this on the radio last week and the first thing that came to mind was--whatever happened to the free clinic?

Here's the link to the story (http://www.bvblackspin.com/2011/01/14/90-girls-pregnant-at-memphis-middle-high-school/ )

I moved to the Frayser area when I was fifteen years old. Having lost my virginity 4 years prior, I was blessed and lucky that I didn't already have two or three crumb snatchers by the hand. When I moved in with my dad, he took me and two of my older sisters (ages 16 and 17) to the clinic to #1 get tested for STDs, #2 get birth control pills, and #3 get a bag of condoms. Daddy told us from day one that he was not condoning any sexual behavior but he wanted to make sure we were protected, just in case. "I don't need any accidents keeping me up all night and drinking up all the milk," he always said.

The reason why he did this was because he was a truck driver and was only home every other night. He didn't have time to watch us. We had to be in the house before the street lights came on but we could stay out until no later than 10 pm, when he was home. If we disobeyed these rules, we would be on punishment for two weeks to two months depending on how late we were out past curfew and what he thought we were doing while we were gone. (I was on punishment the whole summer one year, shaking my head.) My stepmother was always in a world of her own, so I and my sisters pretty much did whatever we wanted until dad asked the neighbors to start spying on us.

Even though my dad did the unthinkable in the eyes of most parents, he still taught us that we shouldn't just lay down with any old dude and that neither the birth control pills nor the condoms were 100% effective. He also schooled us on the importance of getting an education and having faith in God. As a scare tactic, he often used family members as examples of how not to be--Young mothers with three kids by three different fathers; living in the projects with a new car and big screen TV; those that had no job and weren't looking because (they said) "the man" was holding them back: high school dropouts that complained about cleaning hotel toilets.

My sister that was 16, at the time, didn't have a baby until she was around 18 or 19. She married her son's father, he joined the army and they hit the road. The sister who was 17, at the time, doesn't have any kids at all. And I waited until I was an old maid (31) to have a kid.

Even though he took us for the initial doctor visit, it was up to us to make our subsequent appointments, to take the pills and to make the guys use the condoms even if we had to put them on "the thing" ourselves (which I got pretty good at, LOL).

Parents, please help your children to enjoy their childhood and not try to grow up so fast. Set rules for them and enforce those rules. Stop trying to be friends with your kids, they have enough of those, they need guidance. Once the babies come, playtime is over. Once HIV hits, their lives may be over.

Like another one of my Twitter/Facebook buddies, Rob Grant (@Ima_Writer) says, "Condoms are cheaper than diapers, B, wrap it up."

Proofreading is the Key

2011-01-17T12:09:00.000-06:00

After reading Julie's (@WritingSpirit) blog post about keeping the way Facebook posts links in mind when writing opening paragraphs for your blog, I took a look at mine to see what it looked like.

There are two things wrong with this link. First of all, the comment, "Please forgive the formatting" was written a little after 1:00 am, when I was very sleepy. I wanted to make sure my post could be read at the top of the morning for Short Story Saturday before I went to bed. After tinkering with the HTML coding, I have corrected the formatting issue. Also, there's a misspelled word in the link. "The reports were off and some of the clients had been calling saying significant somes..." This should be sums not somes. This has been since corrected but just because I have changed the blog itself, the link on Facebook is still the way it was when I first uploaded the post. The lesson I learned from this is that I will definitely have to do a better job of proofreading before I hit the publish button.

Now, I'm guessing this could be the reason why I used to get so many rejection letters when I was actively submitting short stories and poems for publication. Who wants to publish someone who can't even write a single paragraph without a misspelling? I wouldn't if I were the publisher.

Please be careful how you send things out in the world, as they say, you only get one try to make a first impression.

In response to--Shine Online Blogging Tip 2

The Lock Debate

2011-01-16T10:22:00.000-06:00

It took me years (see My Natural hair Journey) to decide to go natural but now I'm like, what now? I really love my natural hair--the softness, the curliness, the way it makes me look like my ten year old sister when I wear it in a puff. The pictures below are some of the hairstyles that I've rocked over the past year.

For the last few months, I've been thinking a lot about getting locks (or locs). I have several co-workers that have the sisterlocks my little brother has the traditional locks and their hair looks nice and neat to me. I've also seen some really pretty lock styles on the internet. The only thing holding me back is the fact that I am somewhat addicted to changing my hairstyle. I mean, I plan to be natural for many years to come but I still want to have the option of wearing a fro, twists, twist-outs, puffs and braids. I also want to be able to cornrow my hair and wear quick weaves for a protective style.

If I decide to get them, YouTube has schooled me on how to remove locks without having to cut all of my hair off. Although, I did read a statement that a lock specialist made that basically said if the client is concerned about taking the locks down, she doesn't put them in. So what do I do? I'm gonna wait. If I keep looking at other people's hair and thinking about it, eventually I may get locks. I just hope I won't want to take them out after a couple of weeks.

In the meantime, I think I'll be getting comb coils/finger coils. They have the semblance of locks without the permanence. (Plus they look like ring curls, a style that I really liked when I had relaxed hair.)

If you have any advice or suggestions, please feel free to leave me a comment. Thanks.

Money Funny

2011-01-15T00:13:00.000-06:00

I was sitting at my desk with my shoes off, wiggling my toes. It had been a long day and a break was very much needed. The reports were off and some of the clients had been calling saying significant sums of money had been coming up missing.

My eyes were fixed on the computer screen when SaLynne walked in. "Hey, Quintina, are you really busy?"

"It can wait a few minutes," I said, moving away from the keyboard. "What's going on? Why are you so dressed up?"

"I've got a hot date. Remember that corner store owner I told you about?"

"The guy from Africa?"

"Yes, girl, he got money and I'm trying to find out if he's willing to share some of it."

I picked up a pen and tapped the end of it on my desk a couple of times. SaLynne was a very smart, ver nice woman but she had gold digger tendencies. I admired her tenacity but there was no way I could blatantly come out and ask some random guy for money. Especially a guy I just met. Something about that sounded a little too hooker-ish to me. Fortunately, I've never found myself in that sort of predicament. My no good husband was good for something, but that's another story.

"So where are you two going?" I asked.

"Girl, I don't know. He just told me to wear something sexy and I did."

"What if he's just taking you to a hotel?"

SaLynne put her hands on her hips, "As long as he drops the money off first I could care less."

I shook my head. "Girl, get your crazy butt out of my office."

After work, I headed straight home. I was hoping that Cortez would be home when I got there but no such luck. There was a note on the fridge that said he was helping his brother move. On a Wednesday? Yeah, whatever. Cortez like leaving notes. I couldn't get him to call or just send a text when he was going to some where. I called his phone to see when he thought he would be finished, but it was turned off. I hated that I always wondered if he was out messing around, but I knew how he was when I married him. I just hoped that he would change. So far, he hadn't.

On Friday, the report from security came. I didn't want to look at it but there was no point in putting it off. The report showed the last employee to access the accounts that had discrepancies. I picked up the phone.

"Can you come to my office?" I said.

"I'm on the way."

SaLynne had a big smile on her face when she walked in. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

I printed the email and handed it to her. She scanned through it. "What does this mean?"

"It means that you have been stealing. Why SaLynne? You could have come to me."

"Girl, I didn't do this."

"SaLynne, that's your access number."

"I don't care. Somebody's trying to set me up," she said staring at the paper.

"SaLynne, you know you could get in trouble for this."

" I said I didn't do it. You mean you don't believe me? I told you this is a set-up."

"Who would set you up?"

"Shit, I don't know. Did you set me up?"

"Why would I do that?" I wondered if she was on drugs.

"Because you're miserable and you want everyone else around you to be sad too." She was referring to my marital problems. That was a low blow, but I knew she was upset so I let it slide.

"SaLynne, $3000 is a lot of money. You could get fired. This is a felony, you could go to jail."

She jumped to her feet and threw the papers in my face. "I told you I didn't fucking do it. But if you don't believe me, you and this job can kiss my ass," she said and then stromed out.

I decided to let my friend calm down and come to her senses. I didn't want to recommend disciplinary action.

Monday morning, SaLynne knocked on my office door. "Since when did you start knocking?" I asked.

"Since I acted a monkey at work and had everyone looking at me crazy when I walked out." I motioned to the chair in front of my desk and she sat. I didn't say any thing, I just let her get her thoughts together. "I had a dream that I was in jail. All of the people that I stole from had hired inmates to beat me up and do all kinds of things to me," she cringed.

"Wow. That's deep."

"Quintina, I'm sorry. Girl, my money funny and I figured it wouldn't hurt anything to skim a little bit off the top. I mean those folks got plenty money. I didn't think they would miss it."

I just shook my head.

"Quintina, I know that wasn't right, but I was desparate. I had to do something. I got an eviction notice on my front door and my car was on the verge of being possessed."

"SaLynne, you make decent money, you don't have any kids, no sick or needy family members, what the heck have you been doing with your money?"

"Going out to eat, shopping."

"You mean you spent your rent and car note on food and clothes?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Okay, okay," SaLynne said, "I go to the casino. They send me coupons for free rooms and free food and $40 to play with. Sometimes they give me gifts like woks and electric skillets."

"That's great but how often do you win any money? I'm sure you give them a lot more than they give you."

"Every once in a while I'll hit for $400 to as much $5000."

"And what do you do with the money?"

"Spend it. More gambling. Sometimes I catch up on my bills.

"That's sad. So you've gotten so behind on your bills that now you're jeopardizing your lively hood?"

SaLynne shrugs, "Shit happens. I'll pay it back."

"It's not that simple. There's paperwork to be done and we may have to put you on a two week suspension."

"I need a vacation..."

"Without pay."

"Quin, girl, I need my cheese. You made me feel so bad about my sugar daddy that I broke up with him. I can't pay back $3000 on my own."

I blew out a sigh. I knew I would regret it, but my friend needed me. "I'll fix it."

"How? How can you fix it?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

SaLynne grabbed Quintina and hugged her. "You're the best sister I never had. Thanks sweetie. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

I watched SaLynne bounce out of myoffice. Then I sighed again, shook my head and laid my head on my desk.

--To learn a little more about Quintina, check out "Behind the Scene: Her Leftovers" and "The Unexpected".

Snow Days

2011-01-11T05:49:00.000-06:00

I believe if the schools are closed due to inclement weather, all government buildings should be closed and employees of other businesses should be able to take off without penalty.

The reason why I say this is because on Monday morning, Memphis, TN had 4 inches of snow on the ground and parts of neighboring state, Mississippi, had as much as 10 inches. Now I know that's small change to cities that get 12 inches or more but if you lived in Memphis, you would see why it was a big deal. We don't have the equipment needed to remove the snow from the streets. Fancy duds like that are reserved for the airport. The trucks that go around town sprinkling salt and sand on the ground do not have the money or manpower to cover every street. What makes traveling on the snow even worse is that most people in Memphis have no idea how to drive on the snow. Which means there ends up being a lot of smashed up cars before the snow melts.

I had to make the trek across town to my job and just when I was no more than two blocks away, I started to slide on the ice. Apparently, I had encountered one of those spots that the Public Works department hadn't gotten to yet. Now I had called my job several times hoping that the building was closed but only after the third time did it say that the building wouldn't open for business until 10 am. I saw no point in going back home for another hour after I had already dropped my son off so I just took my time. I used the scenic route because hey, I wasn't about to get on the overcrowded interstate and end up taking almost twice as long getting to work, plus running the risk of sliding off the road. Not cool.

The streets were pretty drivable and there was a small number of cars on the road, but every once in a while I ended up having a motorist trailing very close behind me as if there wasn't one or two other lanes to drive in. I hate tailgaters, especially in that kind of weather. I found myself pulling over at least three times to keep from suffering a rear-end collision because some fool wanted to see how fast they could drive in the snow. I'm a chance taker in most aspects but putting my life in jeopardy is not appealing to me in the least.

When I finally made it through the security gate at my job, guess what? I saw maybe 20 cars as I drove around the building to my entrance. Now this is a huge building, the size of a medium sized college campus. The parking lot has never been completely full but cars usually fill at least 90% of the available spaces, but Monday, it must have been less than 9%.

I was surprised to see someone sitting in my area when I walked down my aisle. He said that there was one other person there that was assigned to our department. Over the next hour, three other people showed up. I kept getting phone calls from my manager, who was at home with the grandkids, asking about reports and once I had finally gotten over the shock of being in a virtual ghost town, I sat down and attempted to complete what I came to do. It didn't take long to realize that I wasn't going to be able to complete my reports because part of the information I needed was not available because the lady that did it was still at home in her cozy bed. I called my manager and told her that I had nothing to report and she told me I could go home when I got ready. I left 20 minutes later, after fussing at the few people that were there about all matters of foolishness.

I've said all of that to say this--heads of city, county, state and federal government as well as other business owners, IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE YOUR KIDS TO SCHOOL--GIVE YOUR EMPLOYEES THE DAY OFF.

Please and thank you.

S.H.I.N.E. Online 2011

2011-01-10T16:14:00.000-06:00

Beginning January 11, 2011, I will be participating in a challenge where I post entries to my blog at least twice a week for the next 111 days. The name of it is "The S.H.I.N.E. Online Blogging Challenge." Julie Isaac (@WritingSpirit) is the creator of this challenge. Check out Julie's blog over at http://blog.writingspirit.com/ to learn more about the challenge.

I expressed to Julie that I have a habit of starting off really well with things and then losing steam as time goes on. Meaning that it is possible that for the first month or so I will be a blog writing fool but by the end of the challenge, my muse and I would have had a falling out. This would leave me to search for profound or witty things to say all by my lonesome. *Hugging muse tightly* (I don't want to lose your love. I don't want to say bye-bye...)

Ahem

Anyway, hopefully I will be able to complete this challenge and it will help me to develop the habit of keeping my blog updated on a regular basis. And since I am the type of chick that has to do pages of research to write only a paragraph of information, I will be able to put this anal retentiveness to good use.

My plan is to blog on Tuesdays and Saturdays, which will give me plenty of time between blog posting days to come up with something else to write about. See the details below.

TWO CENT TUESDAY
Two Cent Tuesday is my take on current events, hot topics, Twitter trending topics and Facebook status updates. A lot of things get on my nerves and I'm going to share how I feel about them. I mean, who cares who's gay? If it won't create jobs, put extra money in folks pockets, and nobody got hurt or killed, why is it important? I'm just saying.

SHORT STORY SATURDAY

On Short Story Saturday (or Sunday depending on how busy I get), I will be posting short-short stories between 500-1000 words. Some would call it flash fiction. This may be snippets of events in the lives of the characters in one of my three novels in progress or an entirely new character that has revealed themselves to me in my dreams. I mean they don't be naked or anything, they just pop in my head and tell me all of their business.

I'm going to need my readers to hold me accountable. If you see me not sticking to my two posts a week, please pull a sister's coat tail. Thanks in advance for your help and encouragement.

Me and These Dreams

2011-01-09T07:21:00.000-06:00

I had a dream about my mom last night. It was as if she were still alive and kicking. For some reason she, Donovan and I were walking to her house with bags in our hands. I'm not sure where my car was. Maybe she lived out of town and Donovan and I had caught the Greyhound there and she had met us at the station.

The house she lived in looked familiar but the path that we used to get there was different from the last time I had been there. Now, I guess I had been there before in my dreams because neither she nor I had ever lived in a house even similar to this one. Anyway, it was an addition to a main house where a big tall man lived.

Mom walked in with no problem, but I had to actually lift Donovan up so he could walk through the door. Once they were in the threshold seemed to get even higher. For some reason I wondered if that meant that where ever Donovan and my mom were going that I wasn't supposed to go. I was about to burst into tears when I noticed the tall man standing in the other doorway. He was just staring at me. I don't know what was going on with Mom's doorway, but I had to back up, take off running and jump into her side of the house. I went over that threshold like I was jumping a fence. How weird was that?

I didn't get to see what mom's house looked like on the inside because I woke up (figures). I do remember looking at her and pointing next door and mouthing that dude was crazy. Mom seemed to get scared when I said that and told me not to say it again.

Now, my head is hurting more than it was yesterday. I remember Donovan crying out in his sleep but when I looked over at him he seemed to be okay. (Shaking my head) I hate to think that something would happen to my son, now or in the future. He's just a baby, only three years old. I mean I had my mom for more than 20 years. She was living kind of foul so I knew when I was about 13 years old that she wouldn't live long, but my baby. I don't want to think about him dying. He's perfectly healthy and has more energy than any child I've ever encountered. He's a lot smarter than I was at 3 years old. I just don't know what I would do, how I would be able to function.

I guess I'm having all of these thoughts because next month, February 7th is the 14th anniversary of the day we buried my mother. She was 35 years old when she died, her birthday was August 11th. February 25, 2011 is my 35th birthday. This right here...

Life is too short, especially if we make wrong decisions that could cause us not to live a long life. Her thing was using drugs and fighting with men. My thing is stressing over my job and not taking care of my body. If the Lord says the same, I will make it to 36 years old and beyond. And I'm praying that my son lives to be 103, but in good health, lifting weights and running marathons.

Behind the Scene: Her Leftovers

2011-01-06T18:56:00.000-06:00

The novel I'm currently working on, Her Leftovers, has been in and out of storage bins in my office since 2001. I've changed the genre of the story twice. The sequence of the events has changed a number of times as well. And finally, after about six titles, I've finally settled on the one that I can live with. The timeline that I created is going to need a major overhaul based on some of the feedback that I've gotten from a couple of my volunteer readers. My best friend even wrote out a whole new storyline, many of the parts I plan to incorporate but others I'll save for the next book. I'm currently at the point where I'm trying to decide if I should tell the story from the viewpoint of Quintina and her husband, Cortez, only or if I should include a few scenes here and there from Tamesha's point of view as well.

Her Leftovers is the story of a young woman, Quintina Mitchell-Robinson, who overcame a rather tough childhood when she lived with her mother as well as easy but strict teenage years under her father's roof. Quintina is kind of a nerd but the people in her life, from her family, to her best friends, to her boyfriend/husband, all have contributed to making her life a lot more entertaining than her comfort zone can handle. The older Quintina gets the more fed up she becomes with the foolishness that goes on around her. Eventually, she stops standing in the background and becomes the leading lady in her own life.

Quintina's struggle to find the perfect man is not an easy path. Every time she thinks she's found the person that she feels she belongs with, she finds out things about them that she is not happy about and knows that she won't be able to deal with.

Cortez Robinson is the type of guy that just doesn't give a ... you know what. He's always in pursuit of temporary pleasures. Drinking, drugs, and chasing women, whatever he feels like doing he does it. He's never been a one woman man and probably never will be. Guys that fall for that okey-doke, in Cortez's opinion, are hen-pecked and he never wants to wear that label.

Tamesha Tate is the woman that always seems to be standing in the way of Quintina's happiness. She believes in doing whatever she feels and really doesn't think about how her actions affect other people. This basically means she's the female version of Cortez. Tamesha is a take charge kind of woman and goes after what she wants even if she decides later on that she didn't really want it in the first place. Sometimes she secretly feels sorry for Quintina but wouldn't dare let on.

I'm going to give myself until October 1st to have a full draft of this story. I'll put it on the back burner during this year's NaNoWriMo and then start editing in December. Then I'll be ready for that long awaited next phase--publishing.

Wish me luck.

Related posts--"Money Funny" & "The Unexpected"

My Natural Hair Journey

2011-01-02T13:30:00.000-06:00

(picture taken June of 2010)

Today, we are trying to make #naturalhair a trending topic on Twitter, so I decided to contribute to the cause by talking about how I got to this point.

Ever since I was a teenager, I've always loved to do my hair, but I didn't always like the end results. Just like most other black women, I was taught that the straighter you can get your hair, the better whether with chemicals or heat.

As a kid, my hair was very long and thick so even though my mom tried to stick to hot combing it, sometimes she did have to put a relaxer in it, if only for five minutes. The older I got, I started doing my own hair and of course I stuck to relaxing because the few times I tried to press my hair, I burned a big section. It was hard to slick my hair down just right so no one would notice my charred tresses. Not really liking the chemical burns I got either, I usually went as long as six months between relaxing treatments. Most of the time, I kept my hair in a bun at the back of my head or at the top. I decorated the bun with scrunchies to match my clothes so it wouldn't look so plain. I even put a hint of color in my hair but that style didn't look all that great to me but I didn't know what else to do with it. My parents didn't have the money to send me to the beauty shop so I had to make do. I did have a few friends who were in hair school that I let experiment on my hair but for the most part I did it myself. But I hated my hair. I wanted to wear it straight and curled on the ends but my hair took a lot of beating trying to accomplish the styles that I wanted.

In my early twenties, I discovered weave. I loved changing my styles from curly and black to straight and honey blond. With weave, I didn't have to be bothered with my hair, well for the most part. I did end up pulling a lot of it out with the bonding glue, so many times I just got my hair braided with extensions.

Since the beginning of my thirties, I've been experiementing with wigs--not lacefronts, I hate those. I even learned how to make my own, since a lot of the wigs I find are too small for my big ole head. One day I could be a brunette and the next day I could be a red head and it was cool. But eventually the wigs started rubbing away the hair on my already thin hairline, so I had to come up with something else. I didn't want to be bald by the time I got fifty, if I could help it.

November of 2009, I decided that I would let the relaxer grow out of my hair. I still wore the wigs sometimes but usually I rocked micro-braids or Senegalese twists. In May of 2010, while on a week's leave from my job, I made the big chop. I didn't like the different strings of black, brown and gray but loved the texture of my hair. So I put some honey blond dye in it and got ready for work the next day. I didn't know what kind of response I would get from my co-workers, but was very happy when people came up to me and said, "I'm so glad you found a style that works for you." And guess what? So am I.

2011 Life Plan

2010-12-31T18:04:00.000-06:00

I've been working on this list since Christmas which means a lot of thought has gone into it. This is not just a list of resolutions for 2011, but things that I will continue to do indefinitely.

I know many people make resolutions and by February or March have totally forgotten about them. I've been guilty of that numerous times. All of these things are realistic and doable. These are things that I have been doing but not consistently, which has been a major problem for me. Sometimes I allow work and the act of trying to relieve stress keep me from doing what I need to do for myself and my son. Balance is the key, and I am determined to get balance in my life.

1. Actively seek higher position at work.
2. Spend at least one hour a day on house work.
3. Start and stick to an exercise routine.
4. Eat and drink healthier.
5. Create and stick to a budget.
6. Finish at least one of my novels in progress.
7. Write at least one blog post a week.
8. Keep car maintenance current.
9. Prepare for Donovan's education.
10. Use leisure time more wisely.

I complain a lot about my job but I'm not really doing everything I can to make a change. This year I will start taking advange of the free online training that my job offers. I will also check the job postings every week and apply for every position that I'm interested in, not worrying about how many people that I feel may be more qualified. I might get lucky.

I've always hated house work, ever since I was a teenager. I mean I love the smell of a clean house and I love being able to get a plate of food without having to wash the plate first. The thing is, I just wish I had someone else to do it, or at least help a sister out. But since it's only me and the kid I have to make time every day to get things done.

"An elephant is stout," my dad used to say. And sometimes I feel like I'm on my way to being a baby elephant. I've gained more than a hundred pounds in the last 13 and it's driving me nuts. On occasion, I go through exercise phases but once I've lost 20 to 30 pounds, I end up dropping the ball. Of course I end up finding the lost pounds and few of their friends. SMH

Exercise won't help much if I keep making McDonald's and Burger King richer, so I'm going to have to start eating better. I'll never be able to totally leave fast food alone, but I can always make better food choices. I can treat myself to some utterly useless food as a treat for a job well done every once in awhile but should get right back on track. Sodas are also a big issue that I need to cut back on. I don't drink nearly as much water as I should and I'm sure those empty soda calories have contributed to my weight gain.

I've had budgets before and pretty much stuck to them over the years but the last three or so years, I've been slinging money all willie nillie and my bank account is suffering. "A fool and his money are soon parted." is another saying that my dad uses a lot concerning my siblings and other relatives. I'm afraid to tell him that I fall in that category as well.

My home office and dresser drawers are filled with three novels in progress and several short story ideas and first drafts of poems. I am determined to finish at least one of the novels by October before I begin to prepare for another NaNoWriMo, which will add yet another unfinished piece of work to the list.

With this blog and the one at http://poetryforyoursenses.wordpress.com/, I should have a much larger cyberspace presence. But since I haven't even uploaded one blog post a month, no one but my high school chums, co-workers, and a few Twitter and Facebook friends even know that I write. I plan to do something about that in the very near future.

My break light has been on for a month and since I can still stop without scaring myself to death, I haven't done anything about it. Not a good thing I'm sure. You would think a person with a white car would have sense enough to keep it clean, but unfortunately I don't. If it wasn't for the kid rubbing his little hands on the car, it would probably be gray. Plus I have a habit of eating in the car on the way to work or on the way home and don't always throw my trash away once I've gotten to my destination. So not good when it's my turn to drive everyone to lunch.

The little dude of the house will be turning 4 in May so it is definitely time for him to go to somebody's school and learn how to get along with kids his age. He's been around grandparents, pre-teens and teens since he's been in the world so he only knows how to rough house. I'm sure I'll have to stay by the phone for the first few weeks until he realizes that he can't put his hands on every kid he comes in contact with. D is a smart kid though. He can count and read a little (mostly fast food signs), he knows his colors and most of his shapes. Once I teach him how to spell his name he'll be all set, if he can sit his hyper butt down long enough.

I must admit--My name is Susie and I am addicted to Facebook games. From the time I walk into the door from picking up D, until I can barely hold my eyes open before I drag myself to bed, I am gaming. Cityville, Farmville, Frontierville.... The list goes on and on but I'm gonna have to get myself together and limit my game playing.

When I incorporate all of the other points, the last one will be a no brainer. I won't have the time or energy to spend hours playing games and getting frustrated when I run out of coins.

So here's my list. What do you hope to accomplish in the coming year and beyond?

The Day After

2010-12-26T12:10:00.000-06:00

This Christmas wasn't all that eventful. D got a bunch of toys that are already on their last leg and daddy and I stuffed our faces until he fell asleep and I sat comatose on the couch. My baby sister and neice were at their moms' houses so I left their presents with my dad. Dad's laptop came two weeks ago so he wasn't expecting anything else--and I didn't have anything else to give him. And since I had already opened the presents I got from my co-workers, there was nothing for me under the tree.

I'm thinking next year--if I don't have a boyfriend--I may leave D with my dad and go out of town for Christmas. I'm not sure how my dad would feel about that but I'll run it by him and see what he says. I haven't left the tri-state area (Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas) in more than a year and I'm getting antsy. My friends Janel (@soulwindow), Shannon (@youngshay112 ) and I may catch a flight to Vegas next year. Although I'm not sure if that's a good idea with the airports being so crowded around this time of year. But of course that will be just part of the experience. (shrug)

Tomorrow will be my first day back to work in almost a week and I am not looking forward to it. I feel like a kid that hates to go back to school after Christmas because they have no cool clothes or toys to show their friends. Maybe next year will be better.

Christmas Cheer

2010-12-16T19:55:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow is the last work day for many of my co-workers until the new year. This time of year brings parties galore. Some work groups choose to have their goodies in the conference rooms at work, others plan to meet up at local bars, clubs and eateries. I love the holidays!

We drew names a few weeks ago so tomorrow we will be exchanging gifts. As funny as money has been for my family, this will probably be the only present that I get (that I didn't buy for myself).

My manager isn't going to be at work, so I'm celebrating with one and possibly two of the teams in my department. It's all good to me. I had started making handmade cards but they look too plain to me. Some of my peers have displayed the cards I made for them last year so I would hate to disappoint them with something less than my very best. (I'll save my craftiness for Valentine's.)

Since I am a people watcher, much of the goings on will probably end up in one of my stories some where down the line. Especially if I go to the party where alcohol will be served--LOL. I look forward to seeing how the margaritas will loosen the tongues of some of my co-workers.

Do you celebrate with your co-workers? If so, what are your plans and do things usually turn

out great or not so much?

What Should I Blog About

2010-12-05T10:55:00.000-06:00

I have two blogs but I don't post on a regular basis on either one of them. There's plenty of material in my various notebooks that I can post to http://poetryforyoursenses.wordpress.com, ain't nothing to it but to do it. On the other hand, coming up with things to blog about here is where my dilemma lies. During National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org), I talked about my novel writing progression (or lack thereof). From December to October, my posts are few and and far between.

To get my creative writing juices flowing, I've decided that I want to participate in National Blog Posting Month (www.nablopomo.com). Since there isn't any specific month that this challenge takes place, I figured February was as good a month as any. Not only because it is the shortest month (which means only 28 posts) but because I should be able to come up with something interesting to talk about with Valentine's Day, my birthday and the anniversary of my mother's death all taking place during that month. I may even write about my baby sister, who was born a couple of weeks before my 25th birthday (Yeah, I'm old enough to be her mom). On those dates where nothing significant happened, I'm sure I will be at a loss for words. To avoid that fiasco, I've been Googling blog topics and trying to decide what else I could talk about to inform yet entertain my readers.

Here's the list of blogs that I found that provided a wealth of topics to choose from.

Even though these sites are written from the prospective of people in several different fields, they all pretty much give you the same advice-in so many words-write about what interests you. A lot of things interest me (writing, crafting, technology, and education), but I'll just have to come up with a way to write about my ideas in a way that won't make my readers fall asleep or wonder--"What the heck is Susie talking about?"

Help a sister out...
What do you blog about? Does your blog have a particular theme or do you just write about whatever tickles your fancy?

Day 28 Shaking My Head

2010-11-28T15:10:00.000-06:00

My current word count is 28,368 which is quite a long ways from 50,000. With two days left, I'm hoping for a miracle and a spike in my creative juices. Write or Die has been very helpful the last few days, I just wish I had been using it since day one.

My Twitter friend and fellow Nanoer @ganymeder has already exceeded the 50,000 word goal. I asked her what her secret was and she said, "Just break my daily word count into 500 word chunks-2500 daily M-F & weekends off. Plus I eat my veggies." I thought that was great advice. Since it's a little too late in the game to try that, I will definitely keep that in mind for next year's NaNo and possibly for JulNoWriMo as well.

As I mentioned in one of my tweets last night, even though things look bleak, I'm going to continue to add to my word count until the clock strikes 12 midnight on November 30.

This has been a wild ride and I really hope to do a better job of preparing for next year's challenge.

If you've already met the 50,000 word goal, let us know what your secret is. If you are still chugging along, do you think you will make it? If you feel that there's no way in heck that you'll meet the goal (as do I) let us know what your weak spots were and how you plan to work around them next time.

As always...Happy NaNo-ing!

Day 14 Feeling More Confident

2010-11-14T15:18:00.000-06:00

Good thing I'm not writing with a typewriter. As much as I mess up, I wouldn't have any ribbon or paper.

I took JanFlora's advice and wrote a little on Write or Die. It did help quite a bit. Write or Die helped me to keep in mind that it didn't matter that whatever I was writing wasn't perfect, I just had to write something.

Victoria Mixon's advice was to spend a whole day outlining the rest of my novel, which is what I did yesterday. I added a few paragraphs to my total word count, but I was mostly trying to get all of my scenes and chapters in order, thanks to Scrivener for Windows.

Since I know exactly what I want to happen for the remainder of the book, today I was able to push out 2,338 words. I'm still about 6,400 words behind, but I feel confident that I'm going to catch up and win this thing.

Thanks for all of the great advice and support.

Happy NaNo-ing!

Day 12 What's really going on?

2010-11-12T18:27:00.000-06:00

Last November 12th, I was at a little over 20,000 words. This year, I'm at 13,937. (Shaking my head)

It was my intention to share my daily word count and my life happenings throughout the month of November, but have fallen short because I have been ashamed of my paltry word count.

This year's NaNoWriMo has been really hectic for me. I anticipated this going in, but I was and still am determined to participate and win this competition.

When the month began, I had numerous computer problems, but thank God and all of the angels that I was able to get a new one. Of course now my problem is either not having the time, energy, or ideas to put anything on paper. Kind of crazy all the way around, right?

The last few days, I have had all kinds of off days to catch up on my word count. I have been kinda slacking, but don't slap my hand because the free time isn't over just yet. With three weekends and one more holiday between now and November 30, I should be flying across the finishline like my pants are on fire.

According to the NaNoWriMo website, I would have to write 2007 words a day from now on to finish on time. If I continue at the average words per day that I'm shooting out (1162), I won't finish until December 14. This to me is losing. Losing is not an option, so 2000+ a day is what I'm going to have to push out.

If you're having issues, please share how you are handling them.

If you are on or ahead of schedule, please provide a few pointers for the rest of us.

But no matter what...

Happy NaNo-ing!!!

Day Three

2010-11-03T23:28:00.000-05:00

I got a chance to do a little research for my story during my lunch break. Finally, I also got the chance to order my new computer. Hopefully I'll be using a trouble-free PC within the next week or two.

Once I got to my dad's house to pick up D, I began staring at the Twitter screen on my phone, wondering why my followers kept dwindling. Of course that wasn't helping me get any writing done, so I put the phone down and grabbed my notebook and pen. Then I began wondering how much Spanish I could include in my novel without irritating my English speaking readers. Should I translate every phrase? I have to, I thought, because my main character's Spanish is pretty limited so she would always be trying to translate in her mind before responding.

When I got home, I read through my notes while my nutty laptop did it's thing. CHKDSK scan, spyware update, etc.

Finally, I began typing and by 11:02 pm I had hit 1675 and I was through for the night. It was time for my nightly treat for a job well done--Facebook games!!

How are you doing so far?

If you want to be my NaNo buddy, add me.

Day Two of NaNoWrimo 2010

2010-11-02T21:45:00.000-05:00

I was too exhausted to write this morning before work. Not surprisingly, I couldn't write on my lunch break because my manager had me hemmed up in her office most of the day.

I did get a chance to read a NaNo tip that talked about making a writing soundtrack. For example, if you're writing a romance, you should make a list of love songs. Since I'm writing about criminals, I'm gonna have to pull out the hip hop. May be a tad bit of R&B for the steamy sex scenes. LOL

I didn't feeling like setting up in the kitchen so I dealt with the kid jumping on me while I typed. I made it to 1,700 even though I wanted to make it to 2000. Maybe tomorrow.

How did your second day of NaNoWriMo go?

Day One NaNoWriMo 2010

2010-11-01T20:50:00.000-05:00

The plan was to starting NaNo-ing at midnight but I had to put the kid to bed first. I woke up after he fell asleep, I didn't even look at the clock because I was sure it was time to get started but I was exhausted.

When my first alarm went off at 5:45 am, I grabbed my notes and laptop and propped up in the bed. I was hammering away when my second alarm went off at 6:00 am. I had gotten in 344 words by the time my third and final alarm went off at 6:17 am.

I've been struggling with the title for book for a week now but I'm going to leave it alone until about the 25th. I should have a better idea of what the title should be by then.

You wouldn't believe how many times I wanted to pull out my notes while I was at work but I had to let it be. I just glanced at my notebook on the edge of my desk every so often.

After getting off work, and paying a few bills, I picked up D from my dad's house and headed home.

While my laptop took it's time booting up, I located my thumb drive and got my notes together. I was trying to set up shop in my bedroom, well more specifically on my bed. Unfortunately, D had decided that he wanted my back to be his trampoline, so I had to more to the kitchen table. I made a note to self to clean up office by shoving all of the clutter covering the floor into the storage room under the carport.

I had to save everything I had written earlier to my thumb drive while my computer was in safe mode. It had just refused to cooperated under the normal mode.

I wanted to test out the Scrivener software but decided against it. Microsoft Word was already giving me problems I couldn't stand dealing with anything else.

After saving in safe mode, I rebooted to normal mode and still wasn't able to pull up the document. Not willing to be outdone, I rebooted the computer again and returned to safe mode. The stupid cursor kept jumping around the document but I was able to get the job done. For about 30 minutes. I thank God that the system asked me if I wanted to save my document before it kicked me out. So I rebooted and added a note to the calendar on my phone to make sure I remember to order a new computer tomorrow.

I had to kick D out of the kitchen several times, threatening to put him to bed early if he didn't let mommy work.

By 8:37 pm, I had finally made it to 2025. Which gave me a little cushion in case I fell short one day. Hopefully, day two will gross another 2000+ as well.

What a day!!

What obstacles were you able to overcome to meet your NaNoWriMo quota for today?

Prepping for NaNoWriMo

2010-10-26T21:57:00.000-05:00

This year's NaNoWriMo is going to be a bit of a challenge for me. Why?? Well, I'm a day person so by the time 5 or 6 pm rolls around, it's hard for me to get creative. Last year I worked noon to 8:30 pm, so I did my writing early in the morning before work.

Another difference between this year and last year is that I was in school and I was in the habit of writing an essay every two weeks. Since I'm not in school, I really haven't written much of anything on a regular besides emails. So I've got to get back in the groove.

I have been thinking about how I could get in as much writing as possible, here are a few of my ideas.

I could wake up an hour earlier every day and write a few hundred before heading to work.
Writing during my breaks and lunch will be good when my co-workers aren't pulling me in one direction or another.
I'll also attempt to write more on Saturdays and Sundays so I won't run the risk of getting behind schedule.

This will be my second year participating in NaNoWriMo and I'm both excited and scared at the same time. I wish all the participants luck and hope to see you at the finish line.

Happy NaNo-ing!!

Satisfied Customer

2010-07-09T09:09:00.000-05:00

As promised, here is part two to "Scrambling for a Scrapbook".

After that close call with thinking that I had lost the scrapbook and materials, I immediately got down to the business of completing both books as soon as possible. Visiting Michael’s, one of my favorite craft stores, and getting more craft supplies really got my creative juices to flowing.

I had never used stamping in my projects, so I invested in some ink pads and acrylic stamps. Of course, I also bought plenty of themed stickers to match the photos and articles that I would be putting in the books.

Once I had completed the first scrapbook, with the photos, I emailed Kevin several times telling him to come to my desk to get it. When he didn’t respond, I walked over to his desk with the book and told him that I would be finished the second one the following week.

“Well, you might as well wait until you finish the other one, whenever that will be,” Kevin said.

I didn’t say anything, because I had already made enough false promises to him, and I refused to make anymore. I would just do the best that I could and hope that he was satisfied with the results.

The following Sunday, I loaded most of my supplies in a luggage bag and my son and I went to see my dad. Daddy would be able to fill some of the demands of my toddler, who always seemed to need me when I was in the middle of something. In between letting the kid stick his finger in one of the ink pads and bribing him to leave me alone with a few stickers; I finally got everything that would fit into that scrapbook without making the binding pop. There were a few items left, so I bagged them up.

I really hoped that Kevin would like what I had done. The thought of wasting all of that time and going through those guilt trips for something that he hated would have floored me.

On Monday, I skipped the email routine and went to Kevin’s desk to let him know I was finished. We went to my desk grabbed both of his books and went outside to my car. We sat in my car and I watched Kevin flip through the pages slowly, silently evaluating ever item. At first he wasn’t saying anything, and then he began to mumble and grunt. He was driving me nuts because I couldn’t tell if he was happy or pissed. When got to the last page of the second book, I held my breath. Then he turned to me and smiled. A wave of relief washed over me and I almost hugged him. I began apologizing for taking so long as he put both of the books in the bag. Kevin began to shake his head.

“Girl, I love these books. You couldn’t rush this, you put a lot of work into them and I thank you,” then he reached in his pocket and handed me $40. “So when are you going to get another book so you can put what’s left over in them?” I giggled thinking he had to be joking. But Kevin didn’t smile. Oh boy, I thought, not again.

“Relax, next time we’ll decide together when would be a good time for you,” he said. I thanked him for his business and watched my satisfied customer walk to his car and put his books in the backseat.

Independence 2010

2010-07-06T07:01:00.000-05:00

D and I had a very good 4th of July weekend. Saturday, we took a trip to Mud Island, a theme park/museum in downtown Memphis. I probably took about 65 pictures that I’m going to put in a scrapbook before the summer is over. We walked around that place for about 2 ½ hours, and my thighs still feel the effects of it.

I loved the historical displays that were in the museum. D tried to climb up on everything, and I kept snatching him back down. Some of that stuff was more than 100 years old, I didn’t have any money to repair or replace anything up in there.

We tried to take a paddle boat ride but I was afraid we would tilt over because I’m so big and D’s so little. I was gonna take the chance anyway but he got to wiggling and there were no seat belts on the thing to strap him in so we got off. He cried for about 5 minutes, until I thrust a juicy hotdog in front of him. Then he was all smiles.

Sunday, we spent most of the day at my dad’s house, stuffing our faces. D, my niece and little sister worked their gluttony off in the trampoline. Dad took a nap and I talked shhh until it was time for D and I to go downtown for the fireworks display. We lollygagged around for about 1 ½ until the show started at 10. D made a friend that I hoped wouldn’t turn into an enemy after he practiced some kind of karate chop on him. The fireworks display only lasted seven minutes, but we got encore performances from people in the various neighborhoods that we traveled through on our way back home.

My dad’s birthday was the 5th, but since we had already given him his cards and gifts on Sunday, D and I decided to hang around the house. We took turns using the laptop until we fell asleep on top of the covers because guess what? The A/C was not working. We slept nice with the bathroom window open since there was no screen on the one in my bedroom.

I’m supposed to return to work today, but I don’t wanna. My boss is supposed to be off all this week so I guess I could go in and clean my desk off a little—maybe.

All in all this has been an excellent holiday weekend. I’m sure D would agree.

Scrambling for a Scrapbook

2010-05-28T14:03:00.000-05:00

This week's StoryCraft challenge was to use an ordinary incident from my life to write a 500-1000 word piece which taps into the reader's emotions and gives us a payoff at the end. The more banal the incident, the more kudos to you for making it riveting! Let me know what emotions you get from this story. I felt a number of things myself.

Now, I have been making scrapbooks since I was pregnant with my son in 2007, so I have gotten pretty good at it. I mean not Martha Stewart fancy, but I do all right. It is so much fun trying to find stickers and whatnot to go along with the theme of the photos I have taken.

November of 2008, Kevin, one of my co-workers, asked me to make a scrapbook for him after seeing some of my work. Up until that time, I had only been making scrapbooks for myself and as birthday or retirement presents for my friends. Kevin became my first paying customer.

Kevin didn’t bring me his photos until February or March of 2009, sometime after the Super Bowl. I remember that because he wanted to include articles of his team winning. At that time I was waist high in homework, house work, motherly work, and work-work, so I had very little time to dedicate to his scrapbook. But I promised Kevin I would make time. Every time he saw me, he inquired about my progress.

“Do you need any money for anything?” he asked one afternoon.

“Well, I was at the craft store and found this nice book that I think you would like.”

“How much is it?”

“I think it’s about $25 but I’ll double check.”

“Well, here’s $20,” he said, pulling the money out of his pocket. “If you need any more let me know.”

“I sure will. I’ll bring you the receipt when I get it.”

“That’s fine.”

The next week, Kevin asked if I had gotten the scrapbook I had told him about. I told him that I hadn’t gotten a chance to get to the craft store but that I would definitely go that week, which I did. So when he came to ask about the book again. I handed him the book and the receipt. He gave me another $10 and told me when I needed more to let him know.

It took maybe a month for me to call his cell to tell him about some design ideas that I had. He told me what he liked or thought we could do without then we ended the call. Another month went by before I brought him the book with only a third complete.

“I like it. So, how much longer do you think it will take? I have some newspaper clippings that I would like for you to add.”

“It won’t be too much longer. Just bring me what you want added. I may have to buy another book for the articles, but I’ll bring you a receipt like I did the last time.”

“Okay,” he said.

I could tell he was sick of me giving him the run around. I really felt bad that it was taking me months to do what used to take a couple of weeks at the most. During my Christmas vacation, I was able to put a nice dent in my work in progress, but when school resumed, I fell behind.

Now, a year later, I’m still not finished with the book and Kevin is getting antsy. Last week I told him that I would complete the first scrapbook this week during my vacation. He looked skeptical but he nodded and walked away.

Last night, I tore up my storage room/home office trying to find Kevin’s scrapbooks and materials. All I found was the empty b I had bought for the articles, but the one with the pictures were nowhere to be found. When I was packing for the move to my new place, I just knew I put his stuff in a bag by itself so it wouldn’t get messed up. But the bag wasn’t in the room, or in any of the closets. I had changed cars since then, so it wasn’t in the trunk. Kevin was going to kill me and I couldn’t blame him.

I called his cell phone a few times, but didn’t leave a voice mail. If he was going to yell and curse me out, I would have rather do that on the phone, so by the time I went back to work he would just be rolling his eyes at me. Since I didn’t have his work extension, I called my friend Keisha, who used to date him. I told her about losing the book and the pictures. Keisha told me to look through the stuff in the room again just in case I had overlooked it.

“But, it’s not here. I looked everywhere. He’s gonna be mad isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he really wanted that book,” Keisha said.

“I know and he’s been so patient. What am I gonna do?”

“Just look again, that’s the only thing I can tell you.”

“Something told me to scan those pictures, just in case…”

“See, you should have followed your first mind.”

“I know. You know what? Maybe I left Kevin’s stuff at the old house.”

“Girl, you know you should have cleaned that house up before you left.”

“It’s not like that; I mean I think I forgot to put it in the car when I was moving. The house is still vacant. I’m gonna go by there tomorrow and see if it’s still there.”

“You didn’t turn in the keys?”

“The landlord didn’t ask for them. She lives in California. I figured she would have someone here change the locks or something. I’ll go by there just in case.”

And guess what? The locks hadn’t been changed. As soon as I opened the door, I saw the bag with Kevin’s scrapbook and clippings laying on the room floor right where I had left them, two months ago. Lord have mercy!

I will definitely have the first scrapbook complete and the second one halfway done by Tuesday when I return to work. Never will I ever take on another project that I know I can’t handle.

Poetry for Your Senses

2010-05-27T12:34:00.000-05:00

I finally got a chance to launch the poetry blog that I had been talking about for months. The name of it is Poetry for Your Senses. I chose that name because I like to write pieces that appeal to the readers 5 sensory senses (sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell) as well as their common sense.

Before deciding to create Poetry for Your Senses, I had mostly posted my work on MySpace, Facebook and a few here on this blog. Sometimes I even tweeted a few lines just to see what type of response I would get (It was favorable, I might add.)

The subject matters of my poems are basically the same as my other writing: relationship, family, friendship, and of course the love of writing.

Some of the poems on the blog will come from my book, See What I See, and the others from a work in progress titled, How Does It Feel. I would love to know what you think of my poetry so please, feel free to comment. All feedback is good feedback in my book.

Getting His Way

2010-05-13T11:34:00.000-05:00

This week's flash fiction challenge was to write a short story using nothing but dialogue. This is something I've never done before. Let me know how you think it turned out.

“Hey baby,” I said to my two year old son.
“Mommy!”
“Did you give Granddaddy a hard time today?”
“No no. We watch TV. SpongeBob. Cowboy picture.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said walking into Dad’s room.
“Hey Daddy, how did Don act today?”
“Aw, you that lil’ rascal don’t bother me. He was just being a typical boy.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Ha-ha, aw that boy all right.”
“Mommy, mommy,” Don yelled pulling on my sleeve. “I love you soooo much!”
“Uh huh, I love you too. What do you want?”
“Mommy, you want some Subway meatball?”
“That boy half ate the food I cooked earlier. He ain’t gone do nothing be waist your money,” Dad said.
“I ain’t gone waist it on the floor, Granddaddy, I’m a eat it.”
“Well girl, it’s up to you, but he ain’t gone do nothing but mess over it.”
“Don, why didn’t you eat all of your food today?”
“It was nasty. I throwed up.”
“He didn’t throw up, he only ate part of it and I gave the rest of to the dog.”
“Well, since he’s still hungry, I’ll buy him some chicken nuggets.”
“I don’t want no chicken nuggets. I want Subway meatball.”
“Well, you’re getting a chicken nugget Happy Meal. I don’t care what you say.”
“I don’t want it!”
“Well, I’m gonna play with your toy and I’m not gonna let you play with it.”
“I want my toy, Mommy,” Don says falling out in the floor.
“See, that boy only cuts up like that with you. Women ruin children.”
“Well, if he doesn’t eat it, I’ll eat it.”
“Don, you’re going to have to start eating all of your food. You know I can’t keep buying food for you when granddaddy has already fed you.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Well, what didn’t you like?”
“All he wants to eat is meat. That boy is gone be big as a hog if he keeps eating like that.”
“I eat corn and tater tots…” Don said.
“Boy tater tots ain’t no vegetable!” Dad said.
“…and beans and rice and barbecue…”
“Don, you remember the salad we ate the other day? That’s what Granddaddy is talking about.”
“I like bell peppers and onion and cucumber…”
“That’s it! See Daddy, he likes vegetables, just certain kinds.”
“…and tomatoes and pickles…”
“Don, we get it!” I said.
“Mommy, you want some Subway meatball?”
“Boy, you silly. Come on, let’s try to get there before they close.”

The Visit

2010-05-07T11:05:00.000-05:00

Photo credit: copyright Danielle Ruschena, 2009

This is the second flash fiction challenge from @Story_Craft. The challenge was to write a piece about, or from the POV of a character inspired by our choice of four photos. I chose the one above. I hope you enjoy.

It’s really beautiful here. My best friend has found himself a wonderful paradise to live in. I’m on my way to see him for the first time in 10 long years. The scenery along this road is so inviting that I want to just pull over and take off running through the trees. I contain my excitement and continue on to my destination.

I had run into Shonn’s cousin, Tyrone, in Wal-Mart six months ago, and he said that Shonn had been looking for me. Then he gave me Shonn’s email address and phone number. When I called my friend, he sounded really excited, as if life had really turned out great for him. I’m happy about that because even though Shonn was always good at hiding it, I knew there was always something on his mind that he wasn’t comfortable sharing with me. I respected his privacy, but I still couldn’t help wondering what the big secret was.

As I approach the lovely home, that Shonn had sent me several pictures of, I see an attractive very well dressed woman standing on the porch. My friend had not told me that there was a woman in his life. I actually felt a pang of jealousy.

I park and get out of the car with a fake smile pasted on my face. She meets me at the car and grabs my bag. Her smile is a lot more genuine. There’s something very familiar about this woman, but I’m sure I had never met her.

“Nikki, I’m so glad you came,” she says embracing me, tightly like my friend used to. When we part, I take a closer look at this stranger—her face, her hands, her body. Damn.

“Shonn?”

“I go by Shontell now.”

Her strong arms catch me before I hit the ground.

Margarita

2010-04-28T10:38:00.001-05:00

During this week's Twitter chat with @Story_Craft, writers were challenged to write a Flash Fiction story from the from the point of view of an inanimate object. Since we could choose any topic, other than animals, I chose one of my favorite things--Magaritas. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Being popular isn’t always a good thing, although there’s never a dull moment. People go in search of me at their favorite restaurants and bars after a long day at the office or whatever job they have that makes them need a liquid stress reliever. I come frozen or on the rocks. I also come in a number of fruity flavors. The amount of Tequila that I’m made of varies, depending on the person mixing me up and of course on the drinker’s preference.

Now this may be hard to believe but there are virgin margaritas. OMG! I mean come on, it’s 2010. How much fun could a virgin margarita be?

When I’m in a basic mood, I’m made of a nice blend of Tequila, Cointreau, fresh lime juice, sweet and sour mix, and a splash of orange juice. But when I’m feeling sassy and feel like getting dressed up, I’m accompanied by strawberry, mango, raspberry or sometimes watermelon. Once I’m blended up and poured into a sleek, sexy glass, honey nobody can tell me nothing but how good they think I’m going to taste. Please believe that there aren’t too many people that can resist the moisture dripping down the sides of my glass and the salt or sugar around the rim. Whew! Is it getting hot in here or what?

A worry disappears with each sip of me until the drinker is stress free. Now, please take caution when partaking of my goodness. If the drinker sips too fast—ooo wee—brain freeze. And nobody wants anything resembling a headache ruining their good time.

Now don’t feel sorry for me because people are always drinking me up, I don’t die baby, I multiply. Don’t believe me; check me out at the next happy hour.

Recognize...I'm Back!!

2010-04-26T11:02:00.000-05:00

Elaine is dancing her butt off, ain't she!! That's how I feel to be back in the blog world, although I think I can dance quite a bit better that she can, LMBO!

This has been a very hectic but blissful 30 days. I finally moved out of the place that I hated into a place that I love. I can finally get D to sleep in his own bed at least 3 nights a week. And I don't have to worry about birds in the attic and mold on the walls. Car trouble did plague me for awhile, but I bought another car this past Thursday. No, I don't have any more money so don't ask. LOL!

During my damsel in distress phase, my friends and co-workers were very helpful when it came to giving me a ride to and from work and when I needed to run errands. And even though many people say that it's not a good idea to be friends with your ex, if it wasn't for two of mine, I would have had a very hard time. Thanks to all of you that were there for me physically and in spirit.

I don't have my internet service hooked up at my place yet, but thank God for Wifi. I'm at the library at this moment trying to kill some time before I head to work. Of course that time is nearly up. Hopefully tomorrow I'll will have found my notebook with my notes for the poetry blog I plan to establish. I have all of the poems, but I just can't remember what I had decided to call the site yet. Well, it will come to me and I promise it will be worth the wait.

Thanks for stopping by and don't be a stranger.

Money On My Mind

2010-03-07T07:32:00.000-06:00

It's been a while since I've written a blog post, I've had a lot of stuff on my mind. Yes, it all seems to boil down to MONEY.

I've been a faithful servant for the federal government for 13 years. The first 5 years, I was a seasonal employee, but after applying for hundreds of positions, I finally became permanent. Yes, it sounds ungrateful, but ever since I became permanent I wanted to quit. Of course I didn't quit because of what--MONEY!

The fact that I've been promoted a number of times has made things a little more bearable, but things are still not the way I want them to be. This is the second time (beginning Fall 2009) that I've decided to go to school in order to acquire more skills so I can advance. Since I will always be a writer whether professionally or as a hobby, I've decided to get my Bachelor's Degree in English with a concentration in Technical Writing. At some point I may return to get my Master's in Creative Writing but I'm taking it one step at a time. Yes, to many people it seems like I am a career student but when you have 20 more years to work before you are eligible for retirement, you begin to think about how far you can climb up the ladder within that time frame. I'm not the type of person that sits in one position forever and ever. I crave challenges and I love to learn new things. Although MONEY is not the most important thing to me, it makes getting things I need and want much easier.

The first time I attended college while working for my current employer was from 2004 to 2006, when I got Associates Degree in Information Technology. For a little over 5 years I tried to acquire a position in this field at my job with not much luck. It turns out that it's alot easier to get the position you want if you are willing to move out of town. Of course the only downfall to that is that if they decide they don't need you anymore, they will send you back to your previous position. Which means relocating a least twice. Before having my son I was pretty mobile but I wouldn't want to put a two year old through all of the moving back and forth, so I'm trying to sit here and be patient until someone reads my application and considers me worthy. Hey, the girl needs more MONEY.

Even though I was an honor roll student all through high school and the first couple of times I went to college, this time is a lot harder. I'm not sure if it's because I'm older or because I just have too many things on my plate (son, work, and school). It may be a little bit of everything, but I'm not the only person that has gone through this and I'm sure I won't be the last so I just have to suck it up and keep it moving. I thank God for my former babysitters (The Fletchers) and my father (my current babysitter) because without them I would be like my dad says--"Nutty as a fruitcake". One day all of the working and schooling will pay off and these will be the first people that will get taken care of when I get that big MONEY.

Curing My Writer's Block

2010-01-01T09:19:00.000-06:00

Here is the contest that Janel and I came up with to help us with our creative writer's block.

Novel Finishing and Editing Month (NoFinEdMo)

The 50,000 words that you wrote for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) was no small feat, so you should be very proud. And if you’re anything like me, this was the largest work you’ve ever written in your whole life. Unfortunately, that number of words is only 200 pages, which is pretty short for a full length novel. You more than likely have a lot of editing to do as well since no one writes a perfect first draft.

If you missed NaNoFinMo (National Novel Finishing Month) that began at the beginning of December and you cannot wait for NaNoEdMo (National Novel Editing Month) which takes place during the month of March, try NoFinEdMo (Novel Finishing and Editing Month).

NoFinEdMo actually covers a 44 day period. The object of NoFinEdMo is to reach 80,000 words (a 320 page novel) by the end of the first 30, which happens to be January this year. The first 14 days of February will go towards the editing process. To track the number of words written or edited, you can go to the Write or Die website and download the progress meter onto your blog or website.

Happy New Year and Happy Writing!!
Doing it big in 2010

Creative Brain Freeze

2009-12-31T19:18:00.000-06:00

During November, within the NaNoWriMo epidemic, my writing went to great heights. Not only was I writing nearly 1700 words a day (most days), but I was also doing daily blog posts of at least 500 words. I also wrote several 500 to 750 word essays for school during this timeframe. I was a word-spitting writing machine gun. When December came, all of the fight drained out of me and I developed a brain freeze.

I expressed my feelings about my dilemma to my Twitter friends and one of them, Janel Porter {@soulwindow,} came up with the idea of us creating our own contest. We came to the realization that during NaNo it was easy to keep up with our word count because we had a goal. After we had crossed the 50,000 word finish line, our writing was in limbo. So to get out of our creative rut, Janel and I agreed that the month of January would be our month to finish and begin editing our NaNoWriMo novels.

We’re hoping that this will help us change our writing habits by incorporating writing into our daily lives all year round instead of every once in a while.

Wish us luck!!

Novel Editing Tips

2009-12-12T15:22:00.000-06:00

During my NaNoWriMo recovery over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been catching up on my blog reading. I’ve read a number of articles that offer suggestions on editing manuscripts. Depending on your preference, you can either proofread and make your corrections on-screen http://writingforward.com or you can print the work in progress out and make small changes on the manuscript but write more detailed edits in a spiral notebook http://hollylisle.com. There is also a page on the NaNoWriMo site called “I Wrote a Novel, Now What?” http://nanowrimo.org. One of the contributors to the site suggests that you use post-it notes and a purple pen to make notes all over the hard copy of you novel.

No matter what method you use, it is very evident that editing and re-writing is just as important, if not more so, than writing the first draft. Even if you think you are the next Sue Grafton or James Patterson, it is not a good idea to send your novel to agents and publishers without making sure it is exactly the way you want it.

1. Make sure all of your loose ends are tied up. Explain what happens to each person that is important your story before you come to the end of your novel.

2. Check for grammatically and spelling errors. Don’t completely rely on the spell and grammar check in your word processing program.

3. Don’t be repetitive. If you find yourself using the same word over and over again, pick up a thesaurus. Your prose will flow so much nicer.

4. Keep the reader’s attention. Make readers feel something for your characters, good or bad. Indifferent is not good.

5. Make every word count. Don’t just have your characters talking just to be talking. Everything that is said or done should advance the storyline.

6. Do another read-through. Once you have made all of the corrections you need, let the manuscript for two weeks to a month. If will almost as if you are reading the story for the first time. You’ll be able to make sure you improved your work in progress instead of making it worse than it was before.

7. Get friends or family involved. If you are not fortunate enough to have a best-selling writer in your midst, you are bound to have someone in your circle that loves to read the type of book that have written. Only solicit comments from those you feel will give you honest feedback.

Happy editing! It will be hard work but you’ll be very proud of yourself when it’s all over.

Causes of Social Media Addiction

2009-11-29T19:29:00.000-06:00

I’m trying to figure out when my two year old son became a football fan, because I don’t know if I’m ready for this. It’s Sunday, so I was trying to watch a little TV, but every 30 minutes, D asked if he could watch football. Because I’m kind of sneaky, I would turn the channel to football and when he started playing with some of his toys, I would change the channel. Of course he would notice that the game was not on and he would ask to see it again. After about 6 times, I got sick of it and went into my office to catch up on some blog reading and do some research for my Social Media Addiction-Solution essay for English class.

Now I enjoy using sites like Facebook, Twitter, even YouTube; but I’m always conscious of the amount of time that I spend online. I am a true believer in the adage, “Time flies when you’re having fun.” This means that I know I could easily spend 4 to 6 hours playing games, tweeting, and watching silly videos. Last week I turned in an essay about the of Social Media Addiction-Causes, which in my opinion is 50% boredom, 25% loneliness and 25% avoidance.

Boredom
We all get bored sometimes but there are a lot more things to do besides sitting in front of a computer all day, especially if you are not doing anything constructive. First of all, you could read a book. Maybe you could watch something on TV. Get out and go for drinks with friends. You could even learn to crochet a sweater for your dog. But spending 4 or 5 hours sending notes and posting comments on MySpace gets old after a couple of days. Yes, the games on Facebook are very appealing but you should try to win (or lose) some real coins by taking a trip to the casino.

Loneliness
A lot of people that are addicted to social media are online to make friends because they don’t have any friends in real life. These internet fanatics feel comforted by the fact that they have an endless number of people that listen to their rants and raves. They feel that no one ever listens to them but their Facebook friends by commenting on all of their status updates. This internet empathy that is received is not real because real friends tell you the truth, for your own good, but internet buddies just tell you whatever you want to hear or because it sounds good to the rest of your audience.

Avoidance
Social media addiction affects an addict’s daily life in so many ways. The house is always a mess, their kids have eaten nothing but Happy Meals for 6 months, and they are late or have missed work more than once on a weekly basis, why? Because they felt that updating their blog or sending a tweet every ten minutes was more important than fulfilling their real life obligations. This is not a good way to live. The house will get so dirty that they won’t be able to find their laptop. All of the kids will be 20 pounds overweight and develop high blood pressure. If they do not go to work, eventually they will not have the money to pay the utilities or keep on the internet service.

When social media is used properly, it can be a great business tool or a nice way to entertain yourself. But when used improperly, it can cause problems in your everyday life.

Day 28 of NaNoWriMo

2009-11-28T23:53:00.000-06:00

I got up at 8:00 am to work on my novel. The first 1,651, that I wrote while D was still asleep, was pretty good. It answered a lot of questions that I should have answered from the beginning. Now the last 10,226 was partly backstory but mostly gibberish that I’ll end up taking out during the editing stage. I must admit that part of my dad and my weekly conversation found its way into the story. My dad is a funny guy. He is usually the prototype for most of the older male roles in each of my stories. He doesn’t mind because he knows that I’ll share the wealth with him.

Excerpt
I was still staying at my aunt’s house on Christmas Eve. Aunt Essie and I sat side by side on the couch in front of the fireplace. We had a pitcher of Crown Royal laced eggnog on the coffee table, for easy access.

“Professor, do you ever get lonely. I mean I don’t ever remember you having a steady boyfriend. What do you do when you’re feeling…antsy?”

My auntie threw her head back in laughter. “Well, darling, I haven’t been antsy in quite a while. But when the desire comes, I have a friend that I like to visit.”

“You’ve never told me about a friend,” I said before a hiccup escaped my lips. “Who is this dude? I need to check him out, make sure he’s not a killer or rapist.”

“I’ve already checked him out, about 20 years ago. And darling, when I’m done with him he doesn’t have the strength to put his pants back on let alone to go out and killing and raping.”

“Ohhh, my auntie is freaky deeky. What’s his name? How come you’ve never married him?”

“His name is Bobby Harris. He’s great in bed but he’s not marriage material. I don’t think Bobby has worked at the same place for more than two years since I’ve known him.”

“Damn…sorry dog, auntie you got a freaky scrub. Haven’t you met any other guys you wanted to be with?”

“Yes, a few professors and a judge but they weren’t ready when I wanted a commitment, but when I had accepted the fact that they didn’t want to in a relationship and moved on, they changed their minds. I got sick of the love tug a war so I just decided that I would just settle for Bobby.”

“That’s sad Aunt Essie. You and me…You and I are going to have to find us some real men. We will not accept immix…imitations, lady.”

Aunt Essie giggled so much that she made me burst out laughing and I almost spit my eggnog across the room.

Word Count
51,045/50,000 WINNER!!!

Day 27 of NaNoWriMo

2009-11-28T00:57:00.000-06:00

My sitter came to get D at 7:40 this morning, so I took that as my cue to get busy writing. To avoid the urge to return to bed I got dressed, packed up my laptop and notes and headed to Starbucks. It was 9:15 by the time I reached 636 words. I wanted to add a little more but it was time to head to work.

The cafeteria at my job wasn’t serving food today, so I had the entire space to myself. Armed with my notes, IPod, snacks, and a great writing utensil, I set out on my word count mission. I was able to add another 152 to my word count before my break was over.

D was gone someplace with my sitter when I got off so I was able to work on my writing uninterrupted for a couple of hours. I wrote my little heart out, trying not to think about D. It’s something how when your kid is around, you wish he would go to sleep and stop asking so many questions but when you are away from him, you feel like something is missing. I wrote 659 words while I waited for my little man.
I ran to the door as soon as I heard Mrs. B pull into the driveway. When I opened the door D was walking up the steps. As soon as he got in he grabbed my soda drank half of it before belching like a grown man. D made me bounce a balloon off his head a couple times while I keyed in 192 words.

My total word count for today was 2190. The creativity was waning as I became more and more sleepy. Three more days and 10,836 words to go, I hope to get them all in this weekend so I can relax on Monday.

Excerpt
“Shannon, I’m sorry. I had to get the laptop and I had to see if Joshua had hidden anything in the car. I didn’t want you to be implicated when all of the mess came to a head,” Mallory said headbutting Shannon and then kneeing her in the groin. I jumped out of the car just as Shannon hit the ground. The men had stop loading the trailer to watch the cat fight.

“You,” Mallory said turning to me. “Why did you have to stick your big nose in our business? I was going to leave the car someplace so the police could find it once we had searched it.”

“Why are you mad at me? You’re her friend all you had to do was offer to detail the car and search it then. You stupid.”

“Stupid? I’ll show you stupid.” Mallory said throwing a punch at me. When I dodged it she yelled and ran into me, knocking me to the ground.

“Ooo,” one of the guys exclaimed. I saw Shannon get up and walk over to where we were struggling. Mallory was on top of me trying to choke me when Shannon came over and kicked her in the side of the head.

“Damn, did you see that,” came from our audience.

Mallory fell off of me onto the concrete. I got up and ran to my car while Shannon talked more shit to Mallory. I hoped that the men wouldn’t think I was getting a gun and attached me. But they were too busy watching the fight to pay much attention to me. My cell phone was on the floor and I picked it up and called Marcus.

“Marcus, this Sassy, I need you and some of your boys to come take care of something for me.”

“Sassy, what are you trying to do now? You’re on parole you can’t get into any kind of craziness.”

“I’m just trying to clear my name,” I gave him the address and ran to get Shannon before she caught a valid murder charge.

“Shannon, it’s okay sweetie,” I said grabbing her.

Mallory’s face was swollen and bloody, a couple of her teeth were gone, and plugs of her blond hair were missing. Shannon was crying her eyes out and she was babbling something about the only gift he had ever given her being stolen her by her best friend. I walked her to the chair on the porch and helped her sit down.

The guys helped Mallory up, as they tried to keep their giggles from turning into hilarious laugher. A closer look at two of the three men revealed a family resemblance.

“Sis, you got your ass beat. I didn’t know that big girl had it in her.”
They looked at me quizzically. One of them asked who I was and when Mallory mumbled that I was a detective, they stopped laughing.

“Are you a cop?”

“No,” I said as the first of five squad cars pulled to the curb. “But I have a lot of cop friends.”

Word Count
39,164/50,000