Where Have You Been?!?!?

OK, let me start off by admittting that I have been slacking BIG TIME! You would think since that with the whole world being on punishment from March 2020 until late fall 2021, I would have taken that time to write more. Nope. All I did was work, lose 70 pounds, work, lose my best friend (RIH Sonja), work, gain back 100 pounds, and work. All in all these past wo years have been hard. 

As a result of beingin solitude for so long and still working from home, I am now even more of an introvert. Basically one more bad thing happening away from becoing a full fledged hermit. Not kidding. I leave the house only once a week. And when I do leave, I get everything done - laundry, shopping, groceries, etc. - in one trip if at all possible. This world has lost all sanity and I reuse to be caught in the middle of some foolishness and violence. 

Philly is a cesspool. Carjackings, home invasions, shootings, and all other types of crazy. Can't go out after dark. It's just not safe anymore anywhere, but especially here in "the 'hood". Maybe I'm overreacting. I mean after being away from the outside world for so long, depression has taken over. After Sonja died, there really was no one else left in Philly that I talked to other than Renee, and she has her own life to live. There is literally nothing to keep me here. No family. One friend. Heck, even my church is in Charlotte, so why am I even here?!?!? 

Keeping it 100, I've never really liked living in Philly anyway. This has never felt like home to me. The pandemic only made that more apparent. On top of that, I've always had a meloncholy demeanor, which has ony increased 100 fold since 2020. I've asked my doctor for help, but she's useless. I really need to find a new PCP. Therapy would probably help, but I don't trust anyone. Kinda defeats the purpose of therapy if you can't talk to a therapist. 

I really don't know what to do. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Want to live but don't want to leave the house. Want to make friends but don't like people. Yes, I am a hot mess. 

This Is Not What I Expected

Should the Lord allow (and the Orange Ogre in the Oval doesn't get us all killed) I will be FIFTY in a couple of weeks. 50. 5 times 10. Half a century. Wow. 😮

Since I know that no one will probably ever read this, I am going to keep it 100. I honestly never thought I would see 50. For real. I have made some seriously idiotic choices and taken chances that could have very easily lead to my ultimate demise. A huge part of me died when my father passed away and very unexpectedly thirteen years ago. I’ve never really fully recovered. Looking back now, I recognize that that event was the catalyst into my battle with anxiety, depression, and PTSD. The last three or so years have been the most difficult since that fateful day in 2006, and depression and anxiety have taken up permanent residence.

Somehow (it’s by God’s grace and mercy alone, let’s be real), I have been holding it together and kept plugging through. There have been some good moments. A few laughs here and there. A couple of good memories. But as I sit here and type this, I am quite honestly not able to remember more than five. That is sad. Five good memories in a span of 13 years. Is there any wonder why I’ve considered tapping out? Save your judgement and pity. It means nothing to me. On the off chance one of the very few people in my life is reading this and offended that I can only think of five good memories, this is not about you. Truth be told, the fact that you are offended is part of the problem.

But this? This right up and through here? I did not sign up for this. This was not in the brochure. Nah, bruh. This is not how 50 was supposed to look.

I was supposed to be married by now.

I was supposed to have children by now.

I was supposed to have a grandchild by now.

I was supposed to be financial secure by now.

I was supposed to have a modicum of success by now.

I was supposed to making retirement plans.

Sigh

But alas, this is where I am. Single. Alone. Lonely. No legacy.

Big Sigh

Still, I press. To most, this may sound like I am not grateful for the time I have been given. That could not be further from the truth. I am very grateful. Many of my contemporaries did not make it this far.  

The fact that I am still here means that God is not done with me yet. There is still something He needs me to do. There is someone I need to meet. As long as He gives me breath in my body, I’m going to keep going. Keep pressing toward the mark. Keep running the race. He has kept me through false starts, injuries, heartaches, pain, pitfalls, stumbles, and falls. And yet, I will finish my course with joy. Why? Because in the end, I STILL WIN!

So it is written, so it shall be done.

It's Been A Year But I'm Still Here

And what a year it has been.

Hey there readers. My apologies for being M.I.A. for over a year. My life has been interesting, to say the least, for these last 524 days. So much to share. Unfortunately 95% of it has been a complete and total nightmare. Where to start? I guess at the beginning, hunh?

This tragedy, (and I'm not being dramatic, total poop show ahead) began to unfold on my birthday in 2018. My maternal unit forgot my birthday. How does a person forget the anniversary of the day that they pushed out an 8 lb 5 1/2 oz bundle of awesome, especially since that bundle of awesomeness picked her up, drove her to church, and was talking about said birthday along the way? I'll tell you how. Dementia.
Yes, ladies and gents, this was the first sign of the tsunami that was about to obliterate my life. From here things started going down hill. Slowly at first, then out of nowhere, the train went off the rails quickly. She began forgetting her keys and getting locked out of the house. The neighbors, bless their hearts, were helping her get into the house and keeping her not so little secret. Unbeknownst to me, she was looking herself out on a regular basis. She actually went to the supermarket one day and left the groceries on the bus. Didn't find out about that until 5 months later. Would have helped if I had known about it when it happened, but she sweet talked the neighbors into not telling me.
Bless. Their. Hearts.
Oh look at that, it's starting to drizzle.

After I got a call for the 2nd time in 3 months that she had locked herself out again, I hid a set of keys in her wallet and told her they were there just in case. 2 weeks later, I get a call that she had locked herself out again. The neighbor across the street saw her sitting on the front steps. Just sitting there. Don't know who she was waiting for, but thank God the neighbor saw her. She took her into her house, found her cell phone in her purse, and called me at work. So glad I hid those keys in her wallet. I asked the neighbor to look in the wallet for the spare set and she let the maternal unit back into the house.That was strike three. I left the extra keys with the neighbor just in case.
Meanwhile, the eldest sibling came down to take the maternal unit to the doctor. The diagnosis was now official. She has dementia. Now here's the kicker. She had been lying for MONTHS about going to the doctor and getting her prescriptions refilled. Turns out the doctor had not seen her in 6 months. She was supposed to go every 2. Aaaargh!!!. She said she was going to the pharmacy to pick up her refills. Also a BIG FAT LIE. She hadn't had them refilled in 3 months. Double Aaaaarrrggggghhh!!!! The doctor told us that it was still early, but we, as in the siblings, would just need to call her in the morning and in the evening to check on her.
The gentle rain had now become a downpour.
She was one hell of an actress. She had stopped going to her church and would go to church with me on Saturdays. Acted perfectly normal. Held it together long enough to get through service for a good long time. But, there were more secrets. She had stopped hanging out with her best friend. Not calling anyone. If you wanted to talk to her you had to call. I would go to her house every Thursday morning to take out the trash. At first she would least have it out on the porch ready for me to take down. Then one day she apparently started to get it together and then just left it half done on the floor. The next week, she was just in bed, got nothing together at all. Already late for work (keep in mind that I work an hour and a half away), I just ran through the house, got the trash together, asked if she was OK, and kept it moving. I called when I got to work to ask her what the deal was. She just said she was tired and hadn't been sleeping well. I let it go for the moment because I had to get back to work.
On the way home I stopped through to take the recycling bucket back in. She hadn't showered and was still just sitting in bed. Something smelled funny. I check the bathroom. Oh for the love of all that is holy and righteous! The tub was a disgusting mess. The drain stopper must have fallen and she couldn't figure out how to reopen it. The water was almost to the top of the tub and it hadn't been drained in God only knows when. WTF?!?!?! Well, guess we know why she hadn't showered.
I ran over to the big box home and garden store with the orange logo, bought heavy duty cleaners, gloves, and whatnot and went back to her house to clean up the mess. It took 4 hours. I didn't get back to my place until after 11 PM.
Is that thunder I hear in the distance?
The next morning, I ran down to wake her up before I left for work and told her that she better be  up and showered when I get home. 10 hours later, I stop by. She had showered and washed her hair. She was having a moment of clarity. Finally, progress. The next day she went to church with me, still appeared to be in her right mind. Appeared being the key word. The next Friday was Good Friday and her bestie offered to pick her up and take her to church and lunch. They had a good day. Maybe the drugs are finally kicking in. False sense of security meet complete sh!t show.
Lightening! Run for cover!
Easter Sunday.We were supposed to go to 6AM service. I was outside waiting and waiting and waiting. I called. The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally she picks up. She doesn't want to go. Fine. I leave and tell her to be ready to go to her church at 1:30 PM. I call on my way to come get her. She doesn't feel like it. OK, I'm done. She needs to get out of that house and fast. All of these events were reported to the siblings. The scramble beings.
70 MPH winds.Oh boy.
The next day I call her from work to let her know that I will stop by the house on my way home. I pull up to the house and there she is getting picked up out of the bushes by the next door neighbor and another good Samaritan. She was disheveled, her wig was half on, and she was wearing the same clothes from Good Friday. Houston, we officially have a problem. I get her back in the house. Go check the fridge and her meds. She hadn't been eating or taking her prescriptions even though she had been telling us that she had when we called everyday. I brought her some food and water to her room. Watched her eat. Made sure she was settled and called the siblings. It was agreed that she was to be confined to the house until the weekend and I had to go by everyday. Thursday morning, trash duty, check on her, get her food and drink, run to work. I get a call while I'm on lunch from the eldest sibling telling me to get to the maternal units house because she had fallen. I rush home and find her sitting on the floor just picking her nails. She had wet herself and was sitting in it like nothing was wrong. Called 9-1-1. They took her to the hospital. She never got back to the house after that.
Here comes the hurricane!
She was admitted to the hospital. Tests  revealed that the she had encephalopathy or water on the brain. Her brain was drowning and  a lot of the cells were already dead. No idea where it came from but it progressed very quickly. Because of her age and declining health, putting in a stint was out of the question. She could not be left alone. She could not go back home. To the nursing home she went. At first she was local and it was under the guise of rehab. We had to scramble to get her to sign a POA before she was completely incapacitated. After two months in a nursing home in Philly, the eldest sibling found her a spot out in Chambersburg. Finally, for the first time in my adult life, I was no longer responsible for her. Or so I thought.
150 MPH winds, rain, flooding.
She had no plan. She had no money. We had to sell that piece of crap house fast. No one came to help me clean it out except for my friend Sonja. Because it required a total clean out, we only got $12.5K for it. The $5K plus that I had already paid out of my pocket for her insurance and medical bills? Yeah, that's a total loss. I had to liquidate my IRA to pay for her care. I am now in debt to the IRS over $1K in penalties. It is a year later. She has no more money The monthly fee for the nursing home is $6K. She only gets $2400 from SocSec and her pension. Do the math. Yup. We are hella screwed. She's been in the hospital 6 times in the last 12 months. Infections. A stroke. Other issues.   She can no longer walk, is talking infrequently, and on soft foods.  Fortunately, and this is going to sound bad but, she is now in hospice care. I'm praying for 'that' phone call to come sooner rather than later. She has not been herself for over a year now. She is no longer there.

So now you see why I haven't written in 524 days. I've been a little busy. My finances are a mess. The job is still and hour and a half away because the money I would have used to move is gone. And top it all off, my car is not happy. Still hella single. Gained all of my weight back because I hurt my ankle last year and never really healed. I'm also dealing with major depression and had not so positive thoughts and ideas more than a few times. I'm seriously just over this and literally sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The only reason I have hung on this long is because I am trusting God for a miracle and breakthrough. Have I had doubts? Hell yeah I have. Every single day. He knows where I am and how much I can take before I give up. Praying this will turn around. He doesn't move quickly but He can move suddenly. But until that happens, I'm still here...for now.
 

It's Really Just Another Monday

If you have read any of my prior posts (and let's be real, why would you be reading this one if you haven't?) then you know by now that I am not a proponent of most holidays. Most are ridiculous interruptions and made up to days to remember days, events, or people that quite honestly haven't earned even an hour's worth of consideration.

January 1st is high on my list of "WTF?" days. Folks make a big deal out of what is quite literally just another day. Do we celebrate the 1st of April? Or maybe June? No. So why do we give into the hype of January 1st? "Oh, but it's a fresh year, it's a new start," I call B.S.! Everyday is a fresh day and a chance for a new start. Unless you are celebrating every single day like it matters then treating January 1 any differently is just hollow.

I'll admit I wasn't always this jaded about the first of January. Truthfully, my growing apathetic view of the day could be because of my line of work. In the benefits and insurance game, at least 80% of businesses renew their benefits on the first of the year Of that 80%, darn near 75% of them wait until the last minute to get their paperwork submitted. That causes major stress for folks like me who work their behinds off to get things done in a timely fashion. And for what? No appreciation. [Parents, whatever you do, steer your kids away from the benefits industry. It is a thankless job, needlessly stressful, and makes December and January the worst months of the year. Seriously. Avoid it at all costs.] 

For all of you "New Year, New Me" people, do yourselves a favor. Start with a new day, then work your way up to a new week, new month, new quarter, then a new year. Baby steps. Biting off more than you can chew will only hinder the process. Set attainable goals. I do. I even accomplished mine for today. I actually got out of bed. Woohoo! Yay me! Tomorrow I'm going to step it up with two goals, get out of bed and get dressed. And I will celebrate those accomplishments if I attain them. 

People, I'm not trying to be a Wendy Whomp Whomp, I'm just keeping it 100. We as humans make all of these big plans, spend money on needless holidays and things that will supposedly make us happy, and then 2 months later we're back where we started. Weight Watchers, Planet Fitness, Franklin Covey, DayTimer, Under Armor, and the others like them love your enthusiasm. You are lining their pockets while emptying yours and paying for someone else's vacation home. 

Stop! Just take it one day at a time. Tomorrow isn't promised anyway, so how about just celebrating the day itself, even if it is just another Monday. 

Reasonably Unreasonable or Girl You Are Insane in the Membrane

Let me give you a heads up on this post from the outset. It will be written in my speaking voice, so expect an exorbitant amount of slang mixed in with my usual spattering of $10 words. You've been warned. 

Can I be real with y'all for a minute or two? Like for real, for real type real?

I'm going through a bit of a rough patch right about now. I'm talking deep dark forest kind of terrain in my life. It's like I sorta kinda know where I want to be and where I want to go, but getting there seems like an exercise in futility.

I will be the first to admit that I am a tad slow on the uptake when it comes to hearing from the LORD. And on the real tip, I have an issue with fear. Not sure if it's a fear of success disguised as a fear of failure or just flat out fear of looking stupid. So what do I do? Nothing. I. Do. Nothing. Stupid, I know, but hey, at least I am willing to admit it. They say that's the first step to progression.

For years I have worked on jobs that I quite literally despise in an industry that is a soul-sucking black hole where dreams go to die. No one I know of entered into the insurance and benefits industry on purpose. It's like the retail of office occupations. Better yet, it's like working in fast food just behind a desk and computer. Long hours and very little pay from people who ask things of you that make little to no sense. No matter how hard you try no one is ever satisfied. Just when you think you have finally gotten the hang of things the rules change on you, again. It's like being in a hampster cage. You have the wheel that goes nowhere, a little bit of sawdust on the floor (those are dashed hopes and dreams by the way), and you just hope that someone will give you some carrots and water every now and then so you can have enough energy to get back on the wheel. 

Some of the people I have met along the way have been true gems and will be lifelong friends. Others, well, I said I would keep it real. There are just some people who make my whole entire fat brown booty ache. They are just the dictionary definition of UGH! The poster children for birth control and natural selection. But to their credit, they have given a whole heck of a lot of material for my stand up routine. Hmm, guess they do serve a purpose after all. Interesting.  But I digress. Truth be told, I am not a people person at all, so going to an office every day to be surrounded by folks who make me miserable only makes it worse. How I still have all of my hair is nothing short of a miracle. 

Now you would think that someone who is so incredibly unhappy and cries every day either on the way to way to work or on the way home would have sense enough to pursue her dreams and get the heck out of the hamster cage. Yup, any reasonable person would. I apparently am not a reasonable person and am about three nuggets short of a happy meal. I think the saying goes "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." Clearly, I am a tad insane being that I have been trodding through this life for almost 48 years and still have yet to find my bliss or pursue true happiness. Don't get me wrong. There have been some really enjoyable moments here and there, and I've had some victories that still blow my mind. 

It's just time for me to walk on water.

Since Peter is my favorite disciple and I am most like him (will cuss you out, cut off your ear, then ask Jesus to fix it all), then I should be like him and step out of the boat. Unlike Peter, I need to keep walking and to do that I need to keep my eyes on Jesus and not the wind and waves blowing around me. It's all about seeking the Kingdom first, listening for that Still Small Voice, and standing on the promises of God. He promised never to leave me nor forsake me. He promised me that nothing could ever separate me from His love. He promised me that I humble myself, pray, and seek His face that He will hear me, forgive me, and heal my land. Guess I can't lose since I serve a God Who has already won. Doesn't matter how unreasonable I am, He is my reason for going on in spite of my insanity. 

One of These Kids is Not Like the Others

Truth be told, I am not a very open person. My personal motto is "Trust no one, suspect everyone". More than a few people have said to me "Don't be that way," or "That's no way to live." To them, I say "Hmph, if you only knew."

Here's the deal. While from the outside looking in, I have had a pretty charmed life. On many levels, this is quite true. Private schooling for 13 years, a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear... All of the "things" that could and should satisfy the typical child in these yet to be united states (always the militant, sorry not sorry).

There was always something missing though, two things actually. Love and acceptance.

Now before some folks (i.e. family members) get all butt hurt about what I'm saying, this is my space and my perception. Also, keep in mind, we had two very different childhoods. I can't speak on what you went through and you truly cannot understand mine. So save the drama for your mama, and I mean that quite literally.

Let me give you a scenario, see if you can relate. Have you ever walked into a room full of family members but felt like the red-headed stepchild (no shade intended on gingers. Prince Harry is my boo)? Always trying to fit in but never quite able to master their language? Yeah, that kid was me. That's why I hate, loathe, despise, abhor, detest, and dread family functions of any sort. Holidays, weddings, funerals. It's always too much. Too many people at once who are supposed to be my kinfolk and skinfolk but when all together in one place, they feel like them-folk. It only takes a few minutes for me to find a corner somewhere to hide, zone-out, and find my personal "happy place". Those people are not my people. Not all at once anyway. There are one or two that I can take maybe a couple at a time, but all of them? Uh, no. Seriously, Team Doin' Too Much.

After many years of soul-searching and much prayer, I finally figured out why. There is a huge age gap between my siblings and myself. Eight and ten years respectively. Which means there's a gap between me and my cousins as well. Growing up, I always felt like the outsider and the "oops". You can't tell me I wasn't a mistake. And lately, as their mother gets older, she's started to let stuff slip. Snide remarks here, a slick word there. Little hints that I was definitely Daddy's baby but her maybe (I really don't believe I'm her kid, just sayin'). A lot of things didn't make sense then but do now. And while it's not all right, it's still alright. Jesus loves me. And because I know He loves me then I know I'll be OK. Better than OK. Folks just have to respect The Great Wall of Defense that I've built around me. It's all a part of my Proverbs 4:23 way of surviving - "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life."

So in my own defense, it's not that I don't want to love or trust people. Quite the contrary. I love a tad too much and have been hurt because of it. And when I get hurt I get angry, and when I get angry, well, let's just say it's not pretty. Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry (old school TV reference).

So I'm protecting myself and subsequently you as well. You're welcome.

The Snack Queen - Episode One

True confession time.
I have an addiction.
I love snacks.
Like seriously loooooooove snacks.
My love list is Jesus, snacks, family, snacks, friends, and snacks in that order.
If I can find a way to live on snacks and coffee it's a wrap.
My nickname at my job is The Snack Queen. I'm cool with that.
Popcorn is my number one favorite. I quite literally ate in every day for breakfast for 6 months. Gibble's Red Hot chips are a close second with Unique Pretzel Shells rounding out the top three.

 I love creating my own recipes, too. Weird twists on things that people already love. Like my latest creation, Deep Fried Sweet Potato Pies with a Rum Cream Cheese Dip. I'll give you the basics. If you want the full recipe with measurements, leave me a comment or email me.

You will need the following:
Sweet potatoes
Butter
Nutmeg
Cinnamon
Ginger
Sugar
Milk
Egg
Salt
Vanilla or rum (depending on your audience)

Wonton or egg roll wrappers
Water
Canola Oil

Cream cheese
10x sugar

For a richer flavor, do not boil the sweet potatoes, bake them. Trust me, it works wonders.  BEAT the baked and skinned sweet potatoes with the butter until smooth. MIX in everything else on the list up to and including the vanilla or rum until mixed but still stiff. Not runny.

Get out your wrappers. Place the wrapper on your prep surface in the shape of a diamond (point towards you, point away from you, points left and right).
Using a small scoop or spoon, place a dollop of the filling into the center of your wonton wrapper. If using the egg roll wrapper, use a medium sized scoop and two dollops on close together slightly above the middle of the wrapper.

Using the water and your finger or a gentle pastry brush, lightly wet the edges of your wrappers. Fold the wonton wrapper in half to make a triangle and press the edges to seal them. Try to press out any air bubbles.
Fold in the top point of the egg roll wrapper over the filling, pressing out as much air as possible. Fold in the sides. Now roll the wrapper towards you and seal with the bottom point.

Heat your oil to the ripple stage and drop those puppies in carefully. Fry until GBD (golden brown and delicious on all sides. Remove them and drain on a rack or crinkled paper towels.

While they are cooling, mix you dip.
In a mixing bowl, combine the cream cheese, milk, 10x sugar, and rum.
Mix until creamy smooth and loose, but not too loose. You do not want a runny dip. Ew!

Arrange your sweet potato lovelies on a beautiful serving tray with the dip in the middle. Enjoy!

OK, now I'm really hungry. Time for a bedtime snack!

Secrets and Lies

"There is nothing hidden that will not be found. There is no secret that will not be well known" - Luke 8:17 CEV

For real though, why do people even bother lying about petty things? Even lying about not so trivial things is stupid. The Orange Anal Pore is proving daily that you can't escape your lies. But this is not another political rant. I'll save that for his next scandal or as we common folks call it, tomorrow.

No, I'm talking about family and friends. It is so stupid to lie to those closest to you. On the real, all you are doing is making things harder on yourself. Eventually nothing you say will be believed. You don't want to be that person. One day you will be telling the truth and really need help and no one will be there.Why? Because you have lied your way ouy of their trust.

What's even worse, than lying constantly is having some big ridiculous family secret. Oh my gosh, if only you knew how many families have been destroyed over one person's desire to save face. Just tell the truth from jump. Will a few people have hurt feelings? It's very likely they will, but they will get over it. It's selfish to hide something until you're on your deathbed or even worse, to leave a letter with the truth to be dealt with after you die. That is a straight up punk move.

Just fess up people. Seriously. Living a lie for years is far worse than just telling the truth and dealing with the consequences. You are living in your own private hell for no other reason than foolish pride. Is it really worth it? Is it worth hurting your family and friends for years to come because you were too selfeish and your ego was too big to be honest? Wow. That's messed up.

I know of quite a few secrets and lies, but it is not my place to out anyone or tell their story. Until they are ready to tell it, I just have to sit back and watch and wait. You can't force someone to come clean. All you can do it have a broom and bucket at the ready when the tie comes to clean up the mess.

Clean up in aisle seven!

I'm Planning My Own Funeral

No, I'm not dying. Well, OK, we are all going to die eventually, but I am not sick or planning to go anytime soon. On the other hand, tomorrow isn't promised to anyone so... Wait I'm getting off track. The point is, I am planning my own funeral and here are 10 reasons why:

1 - I don't trust my family to do it. Sounds harsh I know, but it's the truth. I know how I want things to go. No one in my family thinks like me and they will jack up my send off if I don't leave explicit instructions. 

2 - I refuse to have a whole bunch of crying at my "gone away" party. A few tears maybe, but the real crying better by tears of laughter. 

3 - No sad behind songs. Just don't. I love music, loved singing in the choir and praise team. Y'all are not jacking up my last hurrah by singing some tired music. Let's just say the playlist will be lit! Oh, and "Getting Ready to Leave This World" is NOT on the list. I would not be getting ready. At that point, I'm already gone.  Duh!

4 - There will not be a viewing, period. Viewings are ridiculous in my book. Why do we put folks on display like a department store window? If you didn't see me before I died then guess what? You can see me on the video. And speaking of the video....

5 - I am delivering my own eulogy via video. While I do know quite a few pastors and have friends and family in the clergy, I want to preach my own service. I will probably never get the chance to preach while I'm alive so I would like to at least get one time to deliver a sermon. 

6 - No repass! I mean it! No chickens are dying at my expense. If you all want to eat after the service you will either go home or to a restaurant. The day is long enough for the church workers and the family. Go home and take a nap or share a few brews in my memory.  

7 - I am writing my own obituary as well. There are a lot of things my family does not know about me nor do they know any of my friends. That is intentional. It's not that I don't trust my real friends around my family. The opposite is true I don't want to subject my friends to my family. And on top of that, my friends are compartmentalized. No one person would be able to give the full story of my life because no one person knows all of the sides. I'm a diamond, multifaceted. I'm more than the place I was born, the schools I attended, and the churches of which I was a member. My family doesn't know me well enough to do my obit justice. 

8 - I want to be cremated. Some folks are going to try to go against that demand, don't do it, I'm warning you. Funerals are expensive! The biggest cost is the casket. I do not like cramped spaces anyway, so just save the money and cremate me. Scatter my ashes on my property in Virgilina. 

9 - Traditional funeral planning always causes problems in families. Thankfully I do not have any children so I will not have to worry about leaving them behind. However, there is always someone who wants to "show out" at the funeral. If I plan my own there is less of a chance for someone to go rogue.

10 - It will be a celebration of my life not a platform for folks to act a whole fool. I will make sure there is security on hand to drag people out like a passenger on United Airlines. Try me. 

Again, I am not planning to leave this world anytime soon. Just know, when I do go, it is going to be a paaaaarrrrrtaaaaaayyyyy! You're welcome! 

James and the Giant Impeachment

"Lordy, I hope there are tapes."

James Comey pretty much summed it up with that one statement. Woo wee. Sir. Wow.

While I do not agree with everything Mr. Comey did while he was the FBI Director (*cough* emails *cough*), today's testimony almost makes up for those instances.
He was unflappable,  intelligent, and just plain likeable doggone it. In spite of the obvious hostility and blatant stupidity exhibited by some of the committee members, he never lost his cool. He very easily could have gone the condescending route and there were more than few opportunities for him to drop an Anderson Cooper eye roll. He exhibited grace under fire. That is how a true leader should act.
I hope Dolt 45 was using the time to take notes on behavior and decorum while he was watching. I mean he had to do something since they obviously confiscated his phone PRAISE GOD! They should have taken his kids phones, too.
While Comey's testimony alone is not  enough to start impeachment proceedings, the totality of evidence and the half-assed testimonies, or should I say the lack there of, from Coats and Rogers, should get the ball rolling.
Not that we're getting a winner in 45 1/2, but hey.

So I raise a glass to you, James Comey. Well played, sir. Well played.

Here's what you're NOT going to do...

Woo wee! These are some troubling times, hunh?

Seems like a wide swath of the melanin-deficient population is straight wildin' out. They are acting like their boy Clot 45* and his band of morons and misfits have given license to crawl out from under their sheets and act a whole fool.
They think it's OK to say racist crap and attack people of color with reckless abandon. What they don't seem to realize is that this is not 1957. Times have changed in the real world. And while the Alabama legislature still believes that the South will rise again, most of the rest of the country has moved on.

So to help those of the slower intellect understand how things are going to work, I've created a handy guide for them to survive in this new age. They are the ones who need to get on board because we are moving forward so buckle up buttercup. I present to you racist-redneck-wanna-be-supremacist survival guide -

Here's What You're NOT Going To Do!:

• Verbally attack any person of color who is just minding their business and living their life. 
• Physically attack any person of color who is just minding their business and living their life.
• Disrespect any person of color who is just minding their business and living their life.
• Infringe on the rights of any person of color who is just minding their business and living their life.
• Attempt to intimidate any person of color who is just minding their business and living their life.

By now you should see the pattern. If not, you are clearly a lot dumber than is humanly acceptable.

Here's the deal. You leave us alone we'll leave you alone. Most of us don't really want to be bothered with your issues and so-called "better" way of life anyway. Truth be told, you all would be pretty lost if it wasn't for the people of color, and more specifically those of the African diaspora, who built this country. Yes, I said it. WE BUILT IT BY FORCE after YOU STOLE IT BY FORCE! No, I don't take that back and mean every word I said. We are not letting you forget it from here on out. 

And another thing you're NOT going to do - erase the legacy and legitimate Presidency of Barak Obama. He's Black, he was the President, and folks loved him. Did he get it right 100% of the time? No. But he didn't completely F-up the country in less that 6 months. We went from highly respected to the world's laughing stock in less than a year. What the entire 7th sub-basement of hell?!?!? 

That reminds me of another thing you are NOT going to do - make the citizens of these yet to be united states refugees. You think we don't see what you are up to. Trying to cut us off from our allies and the rest of the free world. Not on our watch. You're knuckle-dragging supporters keep telling us "go back to..." wherever. How about this, you go first. We'll turn off the lights, lock up, and set the alarm after you're gone (and change the locks).

Moral of the story, here's what you are NOT going to do.

You are NOT going make us live in fear no matter how hard you try. 

*not a misspelling, I mean CLOT 45. He is a blood clot. 

The Fallacy of Fake Holidays

There are 3 days on the calendar that I do not understand and find completely ridiculous:

Mother's Day

Father's Day

Valentine's Day*

Why? Well let’s start will a biblical reference which, as Jesus Follower, is my instruction manual.

“Honor your father and mother. Then you will live a long, full life in the land the LORD your God is giving you” Exodus 20:12 (NLT)

Notice that the verse does not say ‘honor your mother on the  2nd Sunday in May and your father on the 3rd Sunday in June by buying cards and gifts and sucking up to them especially when you can’t be bothered to call them during the week or acknowledge their presence any other time of the year.’

Let’s be real. If you can't and don't let those special people in your life know that you love and/or give a rats furry hind-parts about them the rest of the year, then your one day of homage rings hollow.It's also needlessly afflictive to those who have lost loved ones or did not have a mother or father growing up.

I was blessed to have both parents in the house until I was 13 when they divorced (thank GOD!). My relationship with my parents was not always the best. Strained is the best way to put it. But no matter how I felt about them, I honored them. All day, every day.

Later in life, my relationship with my Dad was way better than it was when I was a kid. I talked to him every Wednesday. Loved hanging out with him down at the garage. I’m basically a Daddy’s Girl and not ashamed to say it. When he passed away, it broke. I still miss him terribly, but I have no regrets. I honored him all year long and he knew it. HE didn’t expect cards and what not, but I gave him stuff because I knew he liked jazz, loved Jesus, and loved a good meal.

My mother and I… weeellll? It’s still tenuous at best. Yet and still, I’m here, doing the job of a filial daughter. It’s all part of the whole “honor” thing. When I moved out, I only moved a block away, just in case. I used more PTO taking her to doctor’s appointments and sitting in hospitals than I did for actual rest and relaxation. To this day I still call every Wednesday, try to stop through on Thursday, and take her to her church every Sunday. That is the honor. And when her time to leave this world comes, I will have no regrets.

I said all of that to say this. I do it all year long, every single day. Is it easy? Heck no. Is it the right thing to do? Yes. I answer to God. Not Hallmark. Not society. The commercialization of Mother’s Day was not even what Anna Jarvis intended. Don’t even get me started on Father’s Day, which gets hi-jacked by single mothers these days. (Side note: You are not mother and father to your kid. Just stop it. Unless you have a penis, you are not a father.) Let’s just stop all of this foolishness and do right by our parents every day.

Parents, stop with the guilt trips over that one day on the calendar. If your kid doesn’t call you often or show you that they love you, how about you work on that? Your child did not ask to be born. You did the horizontal mambo and produced a person. Or if you adopted a child, and thank God for people like you, that person is your trophy and every gift you deserve for a lifetime. Your relationship with your child is your gift.

Look, I realize that my viewpoint is not a popular one and I will probably get all kinds of flack about it. Fine by me. This is my truth and I am sticking to it. You do you. I’ll try not to give you the side-eye. Try.

*As for Valentine’s Day, I’ll address that next February. Ugh!

You’ve Got A Choice

I am 100% down to the bone marrow pure I cry I thee sold out for the cause of Christ.

The God I serve, the Jesus who died and rose on the 3^rd day, the Holy Spirit who guides me, the Holy Trinity is not about that foolishness. The God I serve is a God of peace, love, giving, and forgiveness. That is why I am sold out for Him. He gave it all for me so how can I not? Yet for some odd reason, that statement bothers people. 

With the emergence of the whole “conservative Christian right” or as they like to call themselves “evangelical Christians”, I can somewhat understand. Much of what they stand for can hardly be called Christian, and sure as Hades is hot there is nothing right about it. Hate, racism, greed…nothing that my Savior stands for or died for. When they use Christianity to push their agenda it burns my biscuits. Argh! That is not the same Christ I represent. Not in the least.

If you ever read the comment sections of any posts written by any pastor or church leader, legit or not, you will come across some of the most hateful, insulting, and ignorant messages. People calling believers idiots and naïve. How dare those simple-minded Christ loving folks live their lives believing in a God they can’t see? How dare those Jesus followers hurt their feelings by exhibiting faith in Someone they can’t touch? How dare believers want to pray for someone else and exhibit compassion and forgiveness? It’s like people of faith are a personal affront to their sensibilities. But why? Why are non-believers so offended?

No, I don’t want to party like I used to, I don’t need to do that to be happy. No I don’t want to smoke or drink or shoot up or whatever. That just doesn’t do it for me. Sleeping around and bed-hopping only leaves pieces of my soul all over the place and makes me less whole. No thank you. None of those things are good for me anyway, whether I believed in Jesus or not. My wanting to live a holy life is my business. Why does my faith hurt your feelings? I seriously don’t get it. 

I Corinthians 15:19 (NLT) – “And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world.”

Be that as it may, I still follow Christ. That is my choice. No one is holding a gun to my head telling me Who to believe in and how to pray. No one is making me attend my church and love it. No one is forcing me to bring my tithe and offering. I freely choose to do these things. Why? Because I know what Jesus did for me. I know He is real. I met Him for myself. To be perfectly honest, I know without a doubt that I would be dead or in jail today if it had not been for the mercy and grace of God.

My life is my ministry. I am not one to push an agenda on anyone. Either you choose to believe or you don’t. Would it bring me joy if you decided to make Jesus your choice? Yes, but I’m not going to twist your arm. It has to be your choice, just like it was mine.

I would rather follow Jesus and get to the end of this life and be right than to not follow Him and be wrong. The ramifications are eternal. I don’t like temps over 80 degrees so an eternity in hell is not exactly the location I’m shooting for.  

Hey, you’ve got a choice. It’s all on you. “But if you refuse to serve the LORD, then choose today who you will serve. Would you prefer the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates (the gods of your past)? Or will it be the gods of the Amorites in whose land you now live (greed, hate, lying, death and destruction)? But as for me and my family, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24:15 NLT (italics mine)

Hey buddy, stay in your lane!!!

Have you ever just watched people drive?

Driving to work today I took a minute to watch other drivers.  There were people talking on the phone, texting, turning around to yell at their kids, lifting cigarettes, reading books, putting on make-up, etc. Meanwhile they are driving 90 miles an hour and changing lanes without bothering to look No one has any consideration for others. Such a self centered and self serving world this has become.

People are doing everything BUT paying attention to where they were going. It was downright maddening and extremely frightening at the same time. Automakers are making it worse by giving people bells and whistles that they wouldn’t need if they would JUST DRIVE!!! Why are you surfing the internet behind the wheel? Is that email that *bleeping* important? How about you get up earlier so you won’t have to put on your mascara while you are on the turnpike?

Because of someone elses lack of thought I could end up in an accident? How ridiculous is that?  But what is the alternative, SEPTA? Oh yeah, that's much safer.  These same people are putting bus passengers at risk. All the while I could get stabbed or shot by some lunatic on the bus or train because there was no where to run.

So, I've decided to become a hermit.
I will fix up my house in the woods in VA, grow my own food, order the other necessities from Amazon, find a work from home gig and NEVER LEAVE MY HOUSE!
I can't.  It’s not safe. There are waaaaaaayyyyyy too many psychos these days.   

What about your friends?

friend [frend]

- noun

1. a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard
2. a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter
3. a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile
4. a member of he same nation, party, etc.
5. a member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker
6. a person associated with another as a contact on a social-networking website

Why did I start this entry with the Dictionary.com definition of friend? Because I needed you to see what has happened to the word, the concept, the essential meaning of being a friend. Notice how the term goes from being one of attachment, affection, and personal regard to just being associated by social-network. 

Let's just clear up this misnomer right off the bat. Just because Facebook chose the term friend as a connection point for those who are in your network, that does not by any means make those 100+ people your friends. You are lucky (no wait, let me change that) blessed if you have more than 5 real friends in your lifetime. So to think that those hundreds of people that you are sharing your pictures, opinions, thoughts, and life with actually give a rats ass about you... come on now. Really? Really?!?!  Most of them are only following you because they want to up their "friend" count. Because we all know that having so many friends on Facebook makes you more significant, right? Umm, no. It actually doesn't. Sorry to break that bit of news to you. 

Some are only your friend to make themselves feel better. If they see you struggling and not having the easiest of times, it makes their not so great situation seem not so bad. (Whew, I may be a hot mess, but look at so-and-so. Glad I'm not them.) How very friendly that is. Can you feel the love. Yeah, me neither. *shrug* [FB note: Take the time to put your friends in categories/lists. Also, separate the weeds from the wheat, Friends vs. acquaintances. Post your pics and status updates accordingly.]

Then there are the stalkers. They consist of the following: 

• exes 
• side-jawns 
• fellow church members 
• co-workers 
• family members who want something to use against you at the next family gathering

These are the most insidious friends of all. Why? Because these are people you wouldn't think would be so untrustworthy (other than the exes of course)  but they are the biggest threat. [FB note: Don't be stupid. When you break up with someone, delete them from your friends list and block them immediately!] These people will take the smallest thing and turn it into the biggest ball of mess. Case in point, they tag you in a picture or a post at a gathering where other people you know weren't invited to come along or attend. Enter the drama, stage left. First off, not every event and everything is for everybody. If they weren't invited there must have been a reason. That being said, stay above the fray. Real friends will understand that. Real friends really don't get hurt feelings over stupid crap like that. Real friends also don't find the need to rub it in someone's face that they were invited. That's petty and stupid.  [FB Note: Do not let other people tag you in photos and posts without your permission. Why invite trouble]

Now I will admit, I am not the best friend, be it in real life or on social media. 

In real life, some time ago, I can't exactly pinpoint when it happened, I phased out quite a few people from my life. There were just too many hangers-on. The relationships were dying anyway so I just pulled the plug and backed away. Don't get me wrong, if one of those people really needed me I would be there in a flash and I continue to pray for them nonetheless. The attachment was gone, not exactly the feelings or personal regard. However, like all things in life, the relationships had reached their expiration date. No big falling out or anything it just fizzled. 

My FB friend count is at 132. That to me is way too many, but of that 132, I can only see the post of about 10 people on my timeline. I just don't have the time or the energy to weed through all of the foolishness. Everyone has been placed on a list and I check those lists every couple of days. My page and posts are locked down. My coworkers, church members, and most of my family can not see what I post unless I post to all. Why? Because people are just too dramatic. Assuming everything is about them. Ugh! Please get over yourself. 

I guess as I've gotten older I've come to realize that at the end of my journey on this planet I want to be remembered as having touched someone's life. Those who remember me fondly, those people were my friends. 

(originally written in 2014)