White Men Can't Jump, Black Women Can't Swim

I can't swim.

Some of you are surprised. Your mouths are agape, eyes popping out of their sockets. What adult can't swim?? It's soooo easy! I know your thoughts. Believe me, I've heard it all before.

But there are those of you who understand what I'm going through. I'm a black woman. And that means I do NOT want to get my hair wet under any circumstances. (It's somewhat easier with natural hair, but it's still a challenge) Then I have this general discomfort of being in a bathing suit and exposing myself to a bunch of strangers. Plus, I wear contact lenses. If I were to get in the water -- dunk my head underneath and everything -- I'd either have to take my contacts out, or where goggles.

This summer, I went on a vacation to the Caribbean that made me want to change my ways. I spent five glorious days in St. Martin, where I spent alot of time in my bathing suit, on the beach or in the pool or the ocean. Because I can't swim, my exposure to the water was limited to jumping over the waves, drinking champagne in the kiddie section of the pool, and having a gentle splash fight, that managed to keep my hair mostly dry.

I returned to the states wondering what it would be like to actually learn how to swim. So I signed up for beginner swim classes at the new 'Aquatic Center' near my home. They start soon, and I already have a pair of goggles to protect my lenses. (I hope they work!) I haven't been able to find a swim cap yet, but I may have to go for drastic levels. If I can't get a swim cap in time, I'll braid my locs up and shroud them up with a scarf and no less than two shower caps. Think I'm playin'. This was enough to save me when I got baptized.

But let me not forget to add the most worrisome part of this upcoming swim class. The adult/beginner lessons are open to people aged 13 and up. I can't wait to be surrounded by teeny boppers!

Photo from : http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/eb/Swimming_pictogram.svg/300px-Swimming_pictogram.svg.png

Doing It, Doing It & Doing It .... Well (?)

Recently, I decided to be a man.

No, I didn’t start to pee standing up. I didn’t scratch myself in unsightly places, or make obnoxious bodily noises. But I did do the infamous Fade Away that they are so famous for.

Anyone familiar with the Fade Away? I’m sure you are. It refers to that period when a guy loses interest in the woman he’s seeing. Instead of calling things off with her, he does the Fade Away – stops calling, stops making plans, etc. His goal is to fade away from the females mind until she reaches the point where she wonders if he was ever there in the first place. I have yet to see this work, but you never know.

I instituted my own version of the Fade Away not too long ago. It caused me to delete a certain telephone number from my cell log and I’d avoid the phone altogether when that number appeared on my incoming call list. I ignored the emails and declined the facebook friend requests. This Fade Away thing was easy.

But then I got his email with the tragic news. A mutual friend had been killed in a motorcycle accident, so that was, in part what some of the phone calls were about. Of course, I called him and shared my condolences. The conversation eventually turned into things I wished I’d forgotten – how we once went on a double date with the accident victim & his wife, my sucky bowling scores, how much his mother likes me.

He ended our chat with a somber ‘keep in touch’, but he must’ve known that I wouldn’t. I hung up and tried my damndest not to remember the good ole days, not to get emotional. I failed. Sighness. I guess being a man is just as tough as being a woman. Perhaps this Fade Away thing isn’t such a good idea after all.

On Being Content

I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I google people. Sometimes quite often.

There will be times when I’ll have a lull in the day where I’ll think about someone, wonder what they’re doing, google their name and mystery solved. Sometimes the mystery isn’t solved, but it’s just as well. These are people who are usually friends/acquiantances/coworkers that I’ve lost touch with. They are people that I wouldn’t necessarily call, but I’m still curious about them.

The other day I wondered about Holly. Holly and I interned for the same company in the summer of 1999. Actually, we worked for two different companies but they shared a building. Weird, huh? We were both working in Philly and were excited about our times in the big city.

Our bosses would send ous out for various tasks, some exciting, some not. Often, I would see her there doing the same thing. We’d smile and chat briefly, but it was clear that she was the competition. In our own polite way, we went for each other’s jugular for three months.

The other day I randomly thought of her and googled her name. I learned that she’s doing pretty well, living in another country and working – something that I dreamed of doing years ago. I read her bio and a strange feeling came over for me. It wasn’t jealousy or animosity. I actually felt happy for her.

I no longer have the desire to do some of the things I once intended to do. The dreams I had as a girl changed once I got into college, changed again when I got into the Real World and at this stage, are being chiseled and refined. I am content.

So go fight the good fight, Holly. I’m back here, cheering you on!

Photo from http://www.3d-screensaver-downloads.com/images/cute-animal-babies/big2.jpg

The Lunch Crunch

In recent months, I decided to switch up my lunch routine a little bit. In the past, I would always bring my lunch, eat it at my desk, then run to the library for the duration of my break to get away from the office and escape my colleauges.

But that has changed. I don’t know why I started this, but all of a sudden, I’m bringing my book (in some cases books) and eating in the office cafeteria. This area is usually pretty quiet. The only person I see in there is a grumpy old man who enters every day at 12:05 p.m. to read the newspaper, cover to cover. He gets annoyed whenever people make noise, and plugs his ears as a sign of protest. Of course, that only makes people (namely me) make more noise as they move chairs around, or hit the vending machine’s brows button.

Recently, people have come to join me in the office cafeteria. The first person, Bunny, had to grow on me. She reads while she eats too, but she also likes to talk. Not talk, complain, about the job, our coworkers, etc. I’m all for a tad bit of office griping, but she takes it to another level. Eventually, she took the hint as I’ve limited our convos to our books and our meals.

Then there is Candy, the caffeine addict. She comes in the cafeteria every afternoon because she desperately needs a Diet Coke. We chat for a minute, then she runs back to work. Recently, she looked upset and I made the mistake of asking her what was wrong. She nearly burst into tears as she described a huge project that had been thrust upon her at the last minute. Honestly, I didn’t think the task was that huge and I thought she was overreacting, but I didn’t say as much. I just gave her some advice, a little pep talk and sent her on her way. But that did eat up 20 minutes out of my lunch break. Twenty minutes that I may never get back!

The other day, the weather was so nice I decided to eat at our outdoor patio. Big mistake. For one, the tables are all positioned (and bolted down) in the shaded areas, where it is freezing. I tried to maneuver so I can be more in the sunshine. That worked for a little while, until I noticed the huge pack of bees --- no, no, they were WASPS – swarming toward me and my meal. Lovely. I bolted up and went to a table in the shade and sat down, only to realize much to late that the chair was wet. So I had an unfortunate wet stain on the back of my slacks. I wanted to weep.

So sometime soon, I think I’m going to have to start going to the library again. No chatty, crying colleagues or wasps there!

(photo from http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2007/02/11/realestate/11sqft.1.600.jpg)

Riding on the MO Train

I'm not sure when it happened, exactly. It was just one of those random things that crept up on me and before I knew it, I wanted, needed more. The thing is, when I like someone, I really really like them. If it's a celebrity or public figure, I read every story pertaining to him/her, defend them to the ends of the other and do my fair share of googling of them. Yes, I know. I'm quite intense.

Lately, I added a new person to my list of google faves. And that person is Michelle Obama.

The thing that I like about Michelle (or MO, as I like to call her) is that she clearly doesn't take any crap from anyone. I had my doubts about her initially, but that was only because her highly arched eyebrows scared the crap out of me. Yet that was before I knew that her eyebrows were a weapon. She can play nice and smile for the media, but there have been quite a few times when I've seen her raise them eyebrows in a way that clearly says, 'Back up -- I'm not the one.' And seriously, everyone knows to back up, even Barack (or The Rock, as I like to call him).

So when the New Yorker did a very long article on her, I had to read it, cover to cover. I'm a Today Show person myself, but I couldn't help but chuckle at the interview GMA did on the Obamas where they talked about getting a dog for their girls. In short, The Rock was hesitant, but MO shut that mess down by looking at the camera and telling the kids (eyebrows raised, mind you), "We're getting a dog." And naturally, I loved how The Rock told the GOP to back off MO.

Anyway, I was reading the newspaper the other day and learned that Michelle will be a guest host of The View on June 18. They called her up and initially asked her to be a guest. However, she did the eyebrow trick again before pointing out to the producers that Cindy McCain was on there not as a guest, but as a guest host, and MO was entitled the same. The producers agreed and are giving her what she wants.

As much as I loathe The View, I will have my VCR (no tivo or dvr folks, i'm old fashioned) set to record this one show. I can't wait to see MO interact with Elisabeth Hasselbeck. It'll be a joy to watch her get shut down.

"I Stole Your Girl While You Were In Prison" (Or, Old School Moment)

Like everyone, I love Fridays. I'm particularly a fan of Friday mornings because I can start my day with the Russ Parr Morning Show. Each Friday, he plays a mix of 'the wrong songs,' which are basically old school tracks. And each week, I enjoy them.





But today, he played one of the songs that always makes me lose my ever lovin' mind. I mean seriously. I know all the words and am not afraid to sing them. Loudly.





Like this morning. I hop in my ride, roll the windows down (still no a/c ya'll. sigh.), check the mirror and turn on the radio. To my surprise, my jam was playing. So I start screaming the lyrics and bobbing my head like I've ... well ... lost my ever lovin' mind. I turn to my left and who do I see? One of my neighbors who was staring at me with interest. She smiled, but she had a look on her face like, "clearly, the child has lost it." I was embarrassed for like two seconds, but I'm over it. Clearly, we have separate mindsets on how to prepare mentally for the work day.





Anyway, here's the video is linked here. Also, I was able to find a recent article with MC Milk Dee. You can find it here.

Image from http://image.listen.com/img/356x237/7/4/1/6/686147_356x237.jpg

'Twins run in our family'

I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately. There’s no reason for it, actually. I just can’t get my tail to bed on time. But the problem with that is my sleep deprivation typically causes me to have some crazy dreams when I do get to sleep. On an ordinary night, I don’t remember my dreams at all.

So the other night I had the craziest two part dream that I must share. In the first part, I was in the hospital, in labor I guess, when someone hands me two blankets with babies wrapped up in them. Apparently, I had given birth. To twins! I did not feel happy about this. All I felt was stressed and scared. And the worse part was, there was no one in the hospital room with me. Where was my support system?? I’m not meant to raise two children alone!! And all I could hear in the background was my aunt’s voice saying, ‘twins run in our family,’ which is something she actually said weeks ago.

I’m really wondering what that dream meant. I am absolutely NOT pregnant, so that theory is out the window. I’ve had recurring dreams where I am pregnant, but all in different scenarios. In each of those dreams, there’s no baby, just me filled with the constant fear of having a kid. Never have twins entered the picture. Never. And I wouldn’t say twins run in our family. We have two sets of twins -- nothing near epidemic proportions. But whatever. I’m just scratching my head as to what that dream was about.

In the second part of my dream, one of my friends was pushing me to travel to some place that she thought would be fun and exciting. Delaware. I told her repeatedly that I had been to Delaware hundreds of times and never found anything particularly fun or exciting about it, but she wouldn’t listen to me, she wanted to go. So we go there and I as I predicted, have a pretty boring time. And that’s all I remember about that part of the dream. I think I woke up laughing on that one.

Anyway, it just shows that my mind has been a jumbled mess as of late. I’ll have to go to bed earlier until I can find which bedtime works best for me.

(Photo from http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:ONN2-CktSTAvNM:http://bp2.blogger.com/_X_d6JjJ00I4/)

May Day

I promised myself long ago that today would be My Day. The Day where I wiped the slate clean and started fresh. The day where I reviewed everything that I accomplished this year and think about what I wanted to accomplish with the remainder of the year. I guess it's like a New Year's Part 2, if you will.

So I took the to-do list on my refrigerator, wiped it off and started updating it in a way that's more beneficial. I placed three categories on top -- education, writing, and other -- on the left hand side I placed the time period I expected to finish each -- week, weekend and month. For example, one of my writing tasks is placed in the month of May category, which for me, means that I must reach the 80,000 word mark in the fourth draft of my novel by the end of this month. For education, I wrote about a bunch of projects I have due by the end of the semester and when I'll finish them and the other category mainly lists household chores, i.e. coupons, vacuuming, cleaning fridge, etc.

Aside from my written goals for the month, I also have an idea of how things will be for the rest of the year. I will be better organized. I will stop spending money like it's going out of style. I will go back to church. I will exercise more. I will master the art of ALIGAF* at work. I will use a bit more of my head, less of my heart when making decisions. I will .... have fun!! Or at least, act like I am.

From today until December 31, 2008, I will make no more mistakes. Sighness. We shall see about that!

*Acting Like I Give A F***

(Photo from http://nowsourcing.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/spring-cleaning.jpg)

Prom Night

I have this strange habit of recognizing dates that are seemingly meaningless. Most people think it's weird that I acknowledge the day the anniversary of my womanhood, but hey, if I remember the date, I'm going to give it its moment of praise. Today I looked at the calendar and noticed that it is the anniversary of my senior prom.



It'd be a cliche if I started calling my high school years the good ole days, but they were. Back then, all I wanted to do was graduate and get as far away as possible. But then I got this taste of puppy love that made me rethink going away so far for my college years.



I remember that I waited till the last minute to get my prom dress (Hey, I still procrastinate. I can't help it) and a group of us arranged to be in a limo together. There were about four couples and when we showed up to take pictures, I realized that one of the other girls was wearing the same dress as me. Horror upon horrors! But whatever, we got through it.

We went to this fancy restaurant beforehand, where everyone smiled and stared at us. One of my friends reached out to say hello to me and had a wardrobe malfunction that would make the Janet Jackson thing look innocent. Afterward, we stood in this long line to get pictures, when this girl I couldn't stand came up to me and snidely mentioned that everyone inside was wearing my dress. Oh, what a bitch. If I had been less of a lady, I would've told her that people who come to prom alone because they discovered their 20-something fiance' was already engaged to someone else need not talk. But I smiled and swallowed my evil words.

I remember that my date got sick and couldn't dance that much, which was kind of annoying. I remember drinking champagne in the limo when another girl got sick and vomitted in the champagne container. I remember going to the hotel afterward, with my date thinking this would be the night and me knowing it wouldn't.

As much fun as I had in high school, I am truly glad to put those days behind me. It's only fitting that my Mom called me recently to tell me that she discovered my prom dress as she was cleaning out the closets. She was sweet enough to mention that the dress is a 3/4 and did I think I could still fit it? Funny lady.

Whoopi

Looking back, it’s probably my fault. I started this mess.

For those of you who don’t know, The Color Purple is one of my favorite movies. I’ve seen it 85745850375347547405040 times. I know most of the lines and I’m prone to bursting out with an occasional, “You told Harpo to beat me”, “Ceeeeeelieeeee!!!”, or “You sho is ugly” phrase from the movie. It keeps things interesting.

(For those of you who aren’t as obsessed with me (or you live under a rock), The Color Purple is a movie about Celie (played by Whoopi Goldberg) , an abused black woman growing up in the 1900s. She goes from victim to victor in the 30 year span of her life that’s shown on screen.)

A few years ago, my beloved Uncle Charles got his hair loced. They looked good, but he always had this little piece of hair at the center of his forehead that I thought made him look like Celie, a la’ Color Purple (see photo). So I started to tease him and spout lines from the movie. Our conversations often went like this:

(Thanksgiving dinner)
Uncle Charles: Strength, can you pass the gravy?
Strength (rocking back and forth in my chair): Oh, don’t do it, Miss Celie! Don’t trade places with me Miss Celie!

( random greeting )
Uncle Charles: Hey Strength, how’s it going?
Strength: Oh, I see Mister bought his maid to the juke joint.
Uncle Charles: You know, this game is getting kinda old. Could we end it, please?
Strength: Hell, no! I said, hellllllll noooooo.
Uncle Charles: You ain’t right.
Strength: (hands raised in the air) Until you do right by me, everything you even think about is gonna crumble.

So yeah, that about sums up our relationship for those few years. Interesting enough, he cut off his locs around the time I was growing mine. Now he calls me Miss Celie, but it’s not the same, since he doesn’t know any lines from the movie.

Anyhow, here’s what’s happening to me lately:
(at the airport two yeas ago, meeting friend who hadn’t seen my locs, which are very short at this time)
Strength: Hey, good to see you.
Friend: What’s happenin’, Whoopi?!!!!!


(Getting a manicure a month ago, chatting with the white woman next to me about a book she was reading)
Woman: You have your hair like Whoopi Goldberg.
Strength: (no response, just give her a glare that I hope is menacing)
Woman: Are you a big fan of Whoopi Goldberg’s? Did you get your hair done like that so you can look like her?
Strength: (still silent, as I mentally hum Negro spirituals that keep me from punching her in the throat)

Woman: Well? Do you even watch The View?

Strength: Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home........

(Going to dinner at a new restaurant with a friend who is black)
Friend: Wow! Your hair has really grown since I last saw you. I like it.
Strength: Thanks.
Friend: Yeah. You’ve got that whole Whoopi Goldberg thing going on.

Strength: Die, okay?? Just DIE!!!


So yes, apparently, Whoopi G is my new alter ego. I'm sure Whoopi is a lovely person in real life, but no, I don't think I look like her. I'd feel flattered, if folks were comparing me to, say, a sexy Whoopi G who looks like this, instead of the asexual way she typically looks. Now I just need the general public to understand that my name is not Whoopi!

(Photo from http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/Deirdre64/Celie200px.jpg)

Enough is Enough (Or: My Name Is Not Whoopi)

Blogger: Um, excuse me, but what are you doing here? I know you don’t think you can fall back into my good graces after being gone so long.

Strength: Sorry, B, baby, it’s just that some things have been happening, things out of my control.

Blogger: Psfh! We all have things that happen. That’s why I’m here! You’re supposed to use me to vent. Were you cheating on me?? Was it Typepad? Or Wordpress? I swear, I’ll kill them futhermuckas!

Strength: No, there’s nobody else but you.

Blogger: For real? Well dang…. Where have you been?

Strength: It’s just so hard. I’ve been really busy. Must I remind you that I’m a graduate student? I have classes on Tuesdays and Thursday nights. Plus, I take guitar on Monday evenings. Not to mention my full time job and all the other work I have to do throughout the week.

Blogger: Blah, blah, blah. Don’t beat me in the head with bullshit.

Strength: I’m going to do better now. I promise.

Blogger: Hmph. I feel like I’ve heard it all before. It’s like you don’t even love me in 2008. This year, you celebrate our anniversary, your birthday and poof! You vanished. Into thin air!

Strength: I know, I know. But I’m back now. I’ll try not to go away that long ever again. I’m trying to get it together. Can you bear with me?

Blogger (sniffs): I thought you loved me.

Strength: I do. It’s just that life has a way of getting in the way of things. Will you give me another chance?

Blogger: Maybe. What do you have for me now?

Strength: Well, I wanted to discuss my feelings on being 31.

Blogger (sarcastically): Oh, how exciting. Next!

Strength: I can write about how I’ve been compared to Whoopi Goldberg on three separate occasions since I’ve gotten my hair loc’ed.

Blogger: Ohh!!! Go on.

Strength: And I can write about how each day, I’m forced to tame my inner Hood Chick from giving folks a beatdown.

Blogger: Well, now you’ve got me.

Strength: I live to make you happy.

Blogger: You better.

Strength: I love you, Bloggerlicious.

Blogger: Don’t call me that in public! You know how I feel about PDA.

Strength: Sorry.

(Photo from http://www.davidskul.com/images/blogger-logo.jpg)

It's My Birthday!

Today is my birthday. (Actually, it’s not, since I’m writing this post in the future). To celebrate, I’m off to the Midwest to visit Dee and her now husband, The Canadian. I also have all of next week off to relax, run errands and contemplate the meaning of life. Can’t wait!

One highlight of next week is that I’ll be getting a facial and a manicure. A friend bought me a gift certificate for these services for my bday last year, but I hadn’t gotten around to using them until now. Can’t wait to go to The Spa where I predict (keep in mind, I’m writing this in the future) that the facial (my first) will be an AMAZING experience, excluding the extraction. Everyone warned me about that part of the procedure. I don’t think it will be that bad, something I ‘imagine’ will be akin to having a hot knife stabbed into my face repeatedly until every single blackhead is wiped clean. Then I’ll get a manicure where the woman next to me will make a rude comment that makes me want to pummel her, wet nails and all. But this is just what I’m predicting …

I’ll plan to spend my week off relaxing, but that may not happen. I'll probably run alot of errands, get some exercise in and get the last few repairs on my car taken care of. But, that's just what I predict. Happy birthday to me!

Stank & Sexy

It annoys me when someone coins a phrase that I didn’t think of first. But since I love Anika Noni Rose, I can’t be too mad. She did an interview recently where she used a term that I’m going to take and use to my own devices. In talking about Terrence Howard in ‘The Best Man:’ “You know he had something dirty," she said. "He had the stank and the sexy at the same time.’ I couldn't have said it better myself.

Here’s my translation:

Sexynstank: (adj). A person bringing a certain virile swagger, while displaying other vile attributes. Can also be used as a noun, i.e. Terrence Howard bought the sexynstank or sexynstank Terrence Howard. Can also be abbreviated, like the S-n-S.

Here are a few folks that I think rock the S-n-S, in no particular order:

·50 Cent: Whenever I hear this man’s name, I get annoyed because it is tied into him hating on somebody. I’ll think he’s stupid and immature … until he takes his shirt off. My goodness gracious. It’s so hard to stay mad at a man with a bulletproof body. Whew! Sexynstank, indeed.

·Nicholas Cage: Dude just does it for me. Castor Troy in Face Off was the truth.

·Kiefer Sutherland: I’ve seen practically every movie of his and I never found him attractive. I thought he was a decent actor who got some so so parts, but I wasn’t a crazy fan. But then I started watching 24. It is amazing to watch his alter ego Jack Bauer fight the good fight for CTU. One minute, he is the devoted Dad who teaches his daughter how to shoot her first victim and the next minute, he tortures a suspect by shooting out the kneecaps of the man’s wife. He does all this with a smooth, velvety voice to match. Nice! (Too bad I stopped watching the show back when they killed off two of my favorite characters).

·Eddie Cibrian: He caught my attention when he played a bad boy on the soaps and then he played a womanizer on ‘Third Watch.’ His ex wife on Third Watch went nutso when he did her wrong and looking at those dimples, I understand.

·Tyrese: I thought he was corny until I saw ‘Baby Boy.’ Talk about the S-n-S effect. Once I saw that he had some thug in him, it upped him a notch in my book.


These are just a few that crossed my mind. I'd like to put Don Cheadle up there, but I can't think of any examples of him being stank. Hmmmm. Got anybody on your Sexynstank list?

What's Going On

This post will be scatterbrained, cuz that's how I'm feeling at the moment.

My guitar teacher has informed me that I have to perform in a concert this spring. No ifs, ands or buts about it. So I have to perfect this song in time for the May event. I like the song, which has no name, other than 'Study in A Minor.' It gives me a chance to do a little fingerpicking, which I love. But I'm nervous!!! I'll have to practice like a bandit so I don't make a fool of myself.

It is a Tuesday, which means I jumped through hoops to leave work early, battle traffic and get to my grad school class this evening. I go through all that for us to spend a whopping twenty minutes in class. Apparently, the professor sent an email earlier saying she wasn't feeling well and wasn't sure she could 'galvanize the energy' to make it to class today, so she left one of my classmates in charge. That's interesting, especially since I galvanize the energy to get to class twice a week, but whatever. Why couldn't she just cancel the blipping class??? Instead, we just sat around and talked about our projects briefly and rolled out. What a waste of time.

A close friend is running away and getting married. Not really running away, but going to the justice of the peace with no one but her and his parents and calling it a day. But I have the pleasure of keeping the phone by me at only times so I can be alerted once she they settle on a date. I've promised to go out there a few weeks beforehand and help her get ready. But the problem is this friend lives four hours away and my car is slowly turning into a hooptie. Hopefully, she won't get the urge for broom hopping until after I get all the necessary repairs to my car.

Got the new Erykah Badu and I'm LOVIN' 'Honey', 'Me' and 'That Hump.' Those are my favorites, but I like the whole CD. Of course, I still have Mary J Blige and Keyshia Cole on constant rotation. Can't wait for the new Mariah to drop.

Just finished "A Piece of Cake" by Cupcake Brown. This is a true story of an abused foster child turned prostitute turned Bloods member turned crackhead turned lawyer. Yeah, it's deep and VERY detailed. A good read, but heavy. It made me grateful for all the opportunites I've had, but it also made me sad for people who grow up in similar situations. It's a loooong book too. Nearly 500 pages. If you've got the time and you're willing to go through the roller coaster ride that is her life, check it out.

And that's it for me tonight. Thanks for tuning in!

(Photo from http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00007FOMP.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg)

Rest, My Child

Lately, I've been having a serious love affair with sleep and I'm wondering if it's hereditary.

There was a time when I was a little girl, that all my Mom wanted to do was come home from work and sleep. It was summertime and we lived in this apartment complex that was still under construction. We barely had any neighbors and I was the only child living there at the time, so the summer months were unbearable. We had a death in the family recently, so we were both pretty miserable half the time. I'd sit around and watch TV all day; she'd come home and sleep. It got to the point where I would have a pillow waiting for her on the couch with a short note that said, 'Rest, my child.' Eventually, we broke out of it.

But all of a sudden, I think I've caught the family sickness. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. If I have a bad day at work, I rip my clothes off and hop into bed. If I'm feeling bored or restless, I rip my clothes off and go to bed. The other night, I was pissed because one of the networks stopped showing repeats of 'Half & Half'. You know what I did as revenge? Yeah -- I ripped my clothes off and went to bed. That'll teach 'em!

I didn't think there was anything unusual about this phase until I thought back to Mom's Sleeping Summer. Coincidentally, she was around the same age as I am now when she was enduring her slumber. Maybe this is just something the women in my family go through from time to time. I don't think I'm depresed. I'd be lying if I said there weren't things going on that get me down, but that's true of anyone. All of this sleep has had its benefits. I'm able to wake up earlier, which allows me to do some a.m. writing, and then I can actually get to work on time. So maybe this sleep overload isn't such a bad thing.

(Photo from http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/33/67/23376733.jpg)

Inflammation of the Worst Kind

Recently, I spent nearly an entire day inside my apartment half nude with the blinds shut tight.



That may sound like the beginnings of a beautiful scenario, but believe me, it was not. See, I woke up with this severe pain in one of my breasts. It hurt so badly that I was forced to be topless. It literally felt like there was a fire inside of me. I can't remember the last time I cried from physical pain, but this time I did it.



So in order to calm myself down, I went on WebMd to check my symptoms. I answered a few questions there and the web doctor informed me that I needed to get to the hospital immediately. That posed a problem, since you know, I couldn't get all the way dressed. Plus, just the fact that I had a condition that meant I needed to go to the hospital so quickly really drove me crazy.



Luckily, I know of a hospital that has a 24 hour nurse hotline that is the human equivalent of Web Md. After waiting forever, I finally got through to a nurse/operator. I told her my problem and she didn't have any ideas as to what was causing it. She didn't think I needed to go to the hospital since I didn't have any other problems that apparently come along with this, i.e. nausea, fever, etc. But she did suggest I see my doctor as soon as I could. My mom came over and tried to nurse me back to health with an abundance of chicken noodle soup and magazines.



By the time I got to my doctor, the worst of the problem was over. Apparently, these things happen from time to time for no reason at all. She gave me some medicine and told me to let her know if the problem returns. It has not, but it has given me greater concern for my girls. I've got to do better about my self exams. I was never really a stickler for that because I didn't think I was at risk since cancer doesn't run in my family. But I do know now that it can hit anyone at anytime, anyplace. So it is now my job to be more dilligent.

Fear of A Black Pregnancy

Pregnant women scare me.

There, I said it.

Maybe scared isn’t the correct terminology. They cause me some discomfort, is a more accurate description. Whenever I learn someone is expecting, I glare down at her stomach as if I’m expecting the kid to just bust out and greet me. Don’t even get me started if the woman is advanced in her pregnancy. I can’t help but think that her water will burst and I’ll be forced to deliver the bouncing babe. That’s definitely not a thing I want to do.

I say all this because a close friend of mine is pregnant. It is good news and I’m happy for her. She is due in the fall and is barely showing. We went out for some food recently and she couldn’t eat because she can’t keep anything down. She just drank her soda and watched longingly as I ate my meal. We walked around a little bit and I told her she needed to be careful because she had “all kinds of stuff inside” her. Knowing my squeamishness with all things related to pregnancy, she cracked up.

Anywho, I see this thing as a good thing, mainly because I’ll be an auntie for the first time in my life. Those of you with siblings don’t understand what it’s like to be an only child and know that you’ll never have a niece or nephew to give the coveted ‘aunt’ title before your name. This is my first close friend to have a baby, so I’m hoping this tyke will fulfill my needs. This is a friend I see only sporadically, so I may not be hunted down often for gifts and whatnot, but who knows. However, I do reserve the right to give up my auntie duties if this kid is bad. I guess that’s the good thing about being a fake aunt. I can easily give up my rights.

(Photo from http://www.openentrance.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/pregbw8707.jpg)

The Terrible Twos

Funny, I don't feel two years old. But I guess I am, because sometime in 2006 I started this here blog. In some ways it seems like a long time ago and in other ways, it feels just like yesterday.

This past year, I shared some of my embarrassing moments, struggles, obsessions, and fears for the youth. I also put out an APB on Mighty Max and made new friends.

I say all this to tell you all (whoever you are) thanks for tuning in to the Strength/Courage /Wisdom program. Keep checking in here and hopefully I'll be able to bring a smile to your face. Or at least make you want to come back!

Thanks again! Now I can't wait for my third blogday!

(Photo from http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/2992027/2/istockphoto_2992027_cupcake_with_two_candles.jpg)

School Daze

I'm going to try really hard not to get too stressed out this semester. However, that's going to be difficult, since I'm taking two challenging evening classes. Why would I do such an idiotic thing? Believe me, it was not by design.

I registered for two classes that are held on Tuesday and Thursdays -- both dealing with different aspects of fiction writing. Two different professors were teaching them. I'll call them Brilliant Professor and Slacker Professor for obvious reasons. I planned to have my Thursday night class -- the one with Brilliant Professor -- as the course I'd devote all my blood sweat and tears into. I would treat my Tuesday class with Slacker Professor as my time to catch up with my Thursday night reading as SP rambled on about his family, his career, life, etc etc etc.

On my first Thursday night, Brilliant Professor gave us the syllabus, which spelled out how much work the course was going to require over the next few months. I didn't mind, because I'm really impressed with Brilliant Professor. The first time I met her, I thought she was attitudinal, but I was wrong. She's a sweet woman who really knows what she's doing when it comes to writing and reading. I know I can learn alot from her. I hurried to get all of my books and spent that night doing my first assignment so the procrastination bug wouldn't hit me.

By the time Tuesday night rolled around, I was in lunch mode. The last time I had Slacker Professor I learned absolutely nothing. He never gave us a syllabus and seemed like he really didn't know what to do with the class. It was an easy A. It was just the kind of class I needed to have, especially when I had to deal with Brilliant Professor later in the week.

However, there's been a change. Slacker Professor is on medical leave and will not be teaching at all this semester! Any idea who is taking over his teaching duties??? Just guess. Yep, it's Brilliant Professor. My face fell when she distributed the massive syllabus and book list. Aye caramba! That's just what I get for trying to take the easy way out. Sigh. Pray for me this semester. Please!!!

(Photo from http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/22/SchoolDazeMP.jpg/200px-SchoolDazeMP.jpg)

You Don't Know My Name .... And I'm Trying to Keep It That Way

I am an anonymous blogger. That means I keep my name, my location and my profession top secret. Unless you are one of the few (and I do mean few) friends that I gave this url, you know very little about me. And I'd like to keep it that way.


No offense, but cyberspace is a scary place. I know that with a click of a few buttons, a few determined souls would learn alot of things that I'd like to keep hidden. Not that I have a secret life, just one that's private.



I offer this disclaimer because I encountered a few readers recently. How they made the connection is not important, but it was enough to make me wonder if I need to make any additional precautions to keep others from finding out. Luckily, these people I met are very kind and promised to keep my secret. Maybe I'm taking this thing too seriously, but I can't help it. I'd love meeting the people who read this blog. But I worry about being face to face with someone who, in the back of his or her mind, thinks, "Oh my goodness! She's the one who wrote about ...... !!!" Freaky.

Nevertheless, I will continue my blogging duties. I hope that I never get so weirded out that I have to go to extremes and make this site private. But that would be worse case scenario. Who knows -- I may change my mind and go public in the future. *Shrug* Either way, please respect my choice to be private. Thanks.