Rest In Peace Michael Lee Thomas, Jr. aka Louis Keyz

Keylos Santana aka Lenny Keyvitz aka Goldfangas lol

On July 5, 2015, my brother, Michael Lee Thomas, Jr., was murdered. He was 33 years old.

He was a poet.

He was a musician.

He was a chef.

He was a confidant.

He was a father.

He was a son.

He was a brother.

He was an uncle.

He was a friend.

He mattered.

He was gentle.

He was kind.

He was logical.

He was a dreamer.

He was generous.

He was thoughtful.

He was a genius.

He mattered.

I loved that man with all of my heart.

He was special.

He was a friend to those who didn’t have any.

He was an anchor for 3 sisters who were known to fly off the deep end.

He was a comedian.

He was a peacekeeper.

He mattered.

He mattered.

His life mattered, but he was still taken away.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over the pain that I feel. I don’t know if this hole in my heart will heal. I don’t know about much of anything these days.

But what you should know is that when you post #blacklivesmatter and #alllivesmatter they aren’t just cool hashtags to put up on your social media sites for shits and giggles.

There are names behind those hashtags. There are LIVES behind those hashtags. There are families and friends who are hurting behind those hashtags. Those hashtags mean something.

One of those names is Michael Lee Thomas, Jr.

Born on July 25, 1981, taken from us on July 5, 2015.

He mattered.

He still matters.

He will always matter to me.

Selma

I took The Kid to go see Selma today. I was extremely apprehensive about viewing it. Not because I thought he was too young or because I thought it would be too graphic. I think children, especially black children should learn about the history of our country and the struggle of our people as early as possible. 

Anyway, I was apprehensive because of Oprah. Me and Oprah ain't friends. I won't get into a long, drawn out story about why we fell out, just know that all of my reasons are valid. 

So we go to the theater. First perk is that The Kid got in free. I thought that was pretty awesome. I asked the young lady at the counter how long this awesomeness would last. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Free? Say what? How long will this be going on?
Girl at Counter: Oh, until January 16th.
The Kid: But...
Me: *side-eye* *whisper in harsh tones* Shut. Your. Mouth.
Me: Well, that's great. How much will my total be?
Girl at Counter: $6.95
Me: Many thanks. Have a blessed and wonderful day.
*we walk away quickly*
The Kid: Mama, I really don't feel right about this. The 16th was a week ago.
Me: Look Kid, if that heffa decided she wanted to go back in time to provide us a service who are we to stop her shine? You want popcorn don't you? An Icee? Well that ticket money can get you some gobstoppers or something.
The Kid: Oh? Okay. Never mind then.

Nothing like the promise of snacks to shatter a young child's moral code.

I'm going stop right here and tell you that if you haven't seen this movie there will be tears.

And not regular tears either. Honey, there will be some ugly crying. Super ugly. So, if you are trying to go on a first date to see it please reconsider and go with your girlfriends. They understand your ugly and new guy might not be so forgiving. 

I don't want to talk about the exact things that happened in the movie because I really want everyone to go see it and experience it themselves. It really is a must see despite Oprah.

What I will talk about are the emotions that I felt while viewing it. 

I felt outrage at the sheer ignorance and stupidity of some of the white people involved.

I felt confusion at the fact that people were so peaceful. I wanted to yell and scream and tell someone to mollywhop the entire fuck outta somebody. 

I felt regret that I haven't done more to further the goals and dreams of Martin Luther King, Jr.

I felt happiness that my child was interested in seeing this movie and could actually identify some of the major characters of the Civil Rights Movement.

But mostly and most intensely, I felt sadness.

Why?

Because I could see and feel how much things have not changed. 

Blacks have the right to vote, but we don't use that right like we are supposed to. If we did we'd have far less of George Wallace's interns in office.

Police officers still use their badges as an excuse to exert unyielding authority on the unarmed and not so dangerous. 

The government still would rather spend our tax dollars on wars and unrest overseas before dealing with the major problems at home in our country.

We are still segregated. Yes, we all have friends different races and ethnicities. We can eat at the same restaurants and drink from the same fountains. But honestly, when you go home what do you see? Is there a vast racial mix in your neighborhood? Your church? The places you go for fun?

The Civil Rights Movement was not even a lifetime ago. In fact, parents were about my son's age when all of this was going on. Maybe some of your parents were too. 

Knowing that my parents experienced some of the things that we were seeing on screen bothered my spirit in such a major way. Because what they struggled for, what they saw friends and neighbors get beaten for or die for... 

We are still fighting for.

That breaks my heart. 

So, I'm urging everyone who reads this; black, white and otherwise, to go see Selma. View the movie with an open mind and an open heart. Learn something. Whatever you learn, when you leave the theater, teach that to someone else.

We don't have the exact same fights that Martin Luther King, Jr. and the other members of SCLC and beyond had to battle, but we still have reasons to stand together and try to make a difference in our world. 

I have no idea what I'm going to do, but I know that I'm going to do something. I HAVE to do something. 

Watching Selma reminded me of that.

My Worst Date

Today we are supposed to talk about our worst date.

However, I've never had a bad date. 

I know, I know. Lucky Tee. 

I mean, what can I say? I'm amazing and everyone that I've ever been on a date with makes sure that our activities reflect my awesomeness. 

There's also an outside chance that I warned people of possible suplexes and throat chops if they presented me with some low budget Dixie Dozen/Waffle House combo. 

I have standards people. I'll make sure they are met. By any means necessary. 

So anyway, there have been no bad dates. But I have had some really odd outings with men who were not my man. These usually occurred when I was out with girlfriends. Also, they were back in the days before I went straightedge, so keep that in mind when you judge me. 

Picture it. Louisville. 1997. The Elk's Lodge.

I was home from school for the weekend and my friend, Mahogany suggested that we go to the Elk's for some fun. Now I was all about this because whenever we went epic fuckery always ensued. How was I to know that on that night, I would be feeling the brunt of it all?

So we get dressed. I'm wearing a halter top and a long black skirt with splits on both sides. It was 1997. That was the hotness, try not to judge.

I'm on the dance floor amaretto sour in one hand, other hand caressing my Halle Berry cut like I'm super fine, and getting my life to this little ditty.

Now, I don't know if you know this about me or not, but I don't like folks in my personal space. There were two people next to me and I knew them both. Imagine my surprise when a large shadow covers us all and I feel the flesh of a stranger on my shoulders. It was covered by clothing...but still.

I froze. 

I'm talking mid-move. You would have thought we were playing Simon Says in that bitch.

I look to my right and Mahogany is looking up. And not just regular up. She's a tall girl and her neck was bent back 90 degrees.

That's when I knew that I was about to be accosted by Goliath. I went into fight or flight mode. Really, just flight because I ran off that floor so damn fast you would have thought that my ass was on fire.

Never dropped that drink though.

I found a seat at a table and finished off my drink. After a few minutes my homegirls walked up to the table laughing.

"He wants to meet you," they said.
"Who wants to meet me?" I ask with disdain.
"Him..."

And there was the shadow again. This time it covered two tables and scared a white lady into not liking black guys anymore.

I said the Lord's Prayer and looked up.

Wanna know what I saw?

Yep. That guy.

His name is Mark Henry. He's a wrestler. I didn't know that. I thought he was a University of Louisville football player, or at the very least a giant murderer. I was about 98.658% certain that he wanted to take me home, lock me in the basement, and boil me in a pot of Le Petite Black Girl Stew.

I didn't say a word. I got up and walked away.

He followed.

I'm certain this is what we looked like to everyone.

I couldn't get rid of him. 

After a while, I talked to him. We had what might go down in history as the shadiest conversation I've ever had with another human being.

Him: I'm Mark Henry.
Me: That's nice. 
Him: What's your name, beautiful?
Me: That will do.
Him: What? Beautiful?
Me: Yep.
Him: So Beautiful, what are you drinking on?
Me: Water from this point on.
Him: Gotta keep that body right huh?
Me: Some of us care about that kind of thing.
*He rubs his belly.*
Him: You don't like it?
Me: No sir. I don't.
Him: Can I take you out?
Me: Why?
Him: I like you. I can tell we would have a good time.

At this point I'm afraid. Why? Because I'm certain he's a serial killer and he wants to use my skin for an arm brace.

Mahogany comes and saves me. We leave.

As we are walking across the parking lot. He shows up. If you didn't know, Mark Henry moves like a damn ninja. Never seen a big be so damn stealthy.

He asks for my number and a date again.

Mahogany turns around and yells "NO! Shit!"

And then we went home and saw on the television that he had recently signed a contract with the WWF for like $20 million dollars. 

The moral of this story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 

Swear this is what he looked like once that Yack took hold of 'em

Next time I'll tell you about a crush who went all Hulk smash when another man (a friend) touched my arm in a way that he deemed unacceptable. If ole boy was trying to get my attention, he got it. Dude was fine as frog hair too. Too bad he was a lunatic.

Moral of that story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 

My Best Friends

I don't have a lot of friends. I never have. I've just never been the I have to have a lot of friends type.

Wanna know something else? Every friend I have made me be their friend. I tried as hard as I could to be antisocial, unfriendly, and pretty much an all around jerk to make them go away. 

Turns out, that kind of stuff is what makes real friends stay. Every single one of them saw through that tough outer shell that I have and got to know the real me. (See also, yesterday's post)

For that reason, I feel like it's disrespectful to pick out one and say that he or she is the "best." They all show me their best self and I do my best to show them the same. 

Every single one of my friends is awesome and special to me. I know I don't tell them as often as I should that I love them and admire them. But I do. 

I don't tell them enough I'm proud of them. But I am. 

I don't talk to them as much as I should. I always say that I'm going to get rid of them. Some of them I even threaten with murder. But they take all terroristic threats with love so don't be calling the people on me. 

So instead of me talking about my best friend. I've decided to tell you why my friends are the best. I made a list. Because that's what I do. 

Deal.

Reasons Why My Friends Are The Best

1. They get me. The weird sense of humor, sarcasm, wit, shadiness. They get all of it. And they entertain it. 
2. They know what I've been through and they don't judge me for it.
3. They always know the right moment to call or send a text to check on me or make me laugh.
4. They don't let me disappear.
5. They bail me out of jail.
6. They will always throw the first punch in a fight for my honor. 
7. They make me smile.
8. They have cute kids that don't act like heathens and make me want to punt them out of the room.
9. They believe in me. Even when I don't believe in myself.
10. They know I'm not as hard I try to make folks believe, but they never call me on it.
11. They send me snacks because they know my options here in the frozen tundra are slim.

So there. Ten reasons plus a bonus on why my friends are better than your friends. 

You mad?

Perception

So today I'm supposed to talk about how people see me vs. how I see myself.

This one is going to be a little difficult for me because I'm actually going to have use my brain a little. I don't know about you, but I try not to use the lobes of my brain outside of 9-11 am Monday-Wednesday. 

So here goes.

I'm about 83.847% sure that most of the world sees me like this:

He's a lunatic.

That's right. I know what you all think of me. Y'all think I'm nuts. It's fine. I know I'm not. 

What I am is honest. I'm upfront about most things. And sometimes I can get loud about it. But that's only when I'm passionate. And there are very few things that I'm passionate about. Usually, I'm chilling. Not giving very many damns about life in general.

That doesn't make me crazy though.

That makes me stress free. Well, mostly stress free. 

I am human. 

Some people may see me as very outgoing. Like I don't mind dealing with people to get things done or make things happen.

Not even.

I'm the most unoutgoing person in the world. I'm probably the shyest person you'll ever meet. I don't talk. Hell, I hardly move around if there's a crowd of people. And by crowd I mean more than 3. 

Crowds make me shutdown. I just can't handle being around people.

It's not because I'm evil. I know that's how some people see me.

Not me. I promise.

I've been told more than once that a person didn't approach me because they thought I would rip their head off and eat it praying mantis style.

Not sure where that bad rep came from. I'm not evil. I'm just not friendly. 

There's a difference.

I'm definitely not going to be the life of any party, when the party is over I'll be able to give a full run down of everybody in attendance. I believe most people appreciate my knack for spotting fuckery in a crowded room. I really believe that's why I get invited anywhere. I know it's not for my sunny disposition. 

So, to some of you I guess that really makes me:

Pick one.

There are very, very few people who know the true me. 

If they did, they would totally see me like I see myself:

Cute. Small. Wonderful.

If you got to know me you would know that I'm one of the kindest, gentlest souls ever. I love to have fun (within reason). My laugh is epic. Awkward dancing and people watching are my faves.

It's really sad that most of you will never get to see that side of me. 

Sucks to be you.

Let's Make a Deal

The Warden gave me an assignment to talk about deal breakers in my relationship. I don't want to hear her mouth because I don't have any razor blades left in my stash so I'm just gonna do this to keep her trap on shutdown.

Before I begin the discussion you should know that I have been with my husband since right before I turned 16. On June 22nd, we will have been together for 20 years. This means that I have been with him for over half my life. In fact, if I do the math, I'm pretty sure it's close to 2/3. 

Just keep that lovely factoid in the back of your mind while I go through this, okay?

Back in the day, I kept a deal breaker on tap. I mean why not? I had to have something to put the fear of God and me not dealing with him in him right? A dealbreaker, to me, was a training tool. Something written down in the "Big Book of Shit That Girlfriends Do". I had to make sure I was being the proper kind of boo... so I set some ground rules.

If he didn't call me right back? We breaking up.

If he didn't remember to open doors for me or just be an all around gentleman? We breaking up.

If he didn't get my order right at Wendy's? Oh hell no! We. Breaking.The entire.Fuck.Up.

And I was serious about that foolishness. I'm really not sure why he dealt with it. Well, if you've seen me you know why he dealt with it but... I'm just saying. I'm not sure many other men would have. 

Then again... you've seen me. They probably would have.

As we got older, we made more deals. We broke more deals. And then we made the most major deal that any two people can make. 

Marriage.

We said vows. Those are like the ultimate in contractual agreements. 

And wouldn't you know it, we broke some of those promises too.

Things that I said I would never tolerate, the things that I said would be the reason for me to call it quits, none of it mattered when push came to shove and I had to make a real life decision. 

Maybe I'm a punk. 

It's possible. 

Maybe I'm a sucker. 

That's Likely. 

More than anything though I think the answer would be that I am ridiculously, deeply, wholeheartedly in love with the man that I literally grew up with. 

I can't just up and leave him because he broke some arbitrary rule that I made up for my happiness and comfort. 

That's not true. I totally have a list. 

Tee's Big List of Deal Breakers

1. Ruin my credit. I've already done that once. I won't be living that less than stellar credit life again, especially not because of something somebody else did. I'll drop him like a bad habit if Experian and Equifax tell me to.
2. Limit my time with the people I love. And by people I love I mean Justin Timberlake, Robert Downey, Jr., Idris Elba, Willie Geist, Bryan Williams, or Joe Biden. He ever tells me that I have to choose between him and one of my boos? Sayonara sweetie, it's been really real.
3. Take my handbags away. Just know that if it happens you will see me on the news. 
4. Dishonesty. Not really down for lies in any way, shape, form, or fashion. I'm too old for that kind of stress. I don't have time to be playing Inch High Private Eye on your ass and trying to figure out what you really meant or what you've been doing. Just tell me the truth and let me figure out what I want to do with it. Unless you're telling me I look better than Beyonce', then I'm with it.

He hasn't even tried to break any of these rules. He knows better. 

Seriously, in the 20 years that we've been together we've been through just about every trial that a couple can go through. If I had stuck to the rules that I set when I was 16 I know I wouldn't be with him.

I'm not saying that I'd be alone. You've seen me right?

I'm just saying that I wouldn't be with the person that I know God made for me. 

After writing all of that, I'm not sure that I made a point. Actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't. Whatever. I hope whoever is reading this got something out of it. Good night. 

Diary of An Unemployed American: Day.... 3, I Think But Don't Quote Me On That...

I'm not sure how long I've been unemployed.  It feels like forever.  All of the days are beginning to run to together.  I haven't been this out of it since that one time in undergrad when I thought it would be a good idea to mix NoDoz and Pepsi.  

I don't understand how people live this aintshit lifestyle.  Doing nothing is hard damn work.  








Right now I my head is half full of twists... I look like a strange hybrid of Gary Coleman and Coolio.  And let me tell you honey... that picture you see in your head ain't nowhere near how unacceptable I'm looking right now. 

I blame John Boehner.  His coif is always perfection.  But I'm walking these streets looking like depression and dastardly deeds. 

My nails look like I've been walking on my hands through broken glass and lava rock.  If it wasn't for this shutdown, I'd be sitting in Holly's chair getting my hands and feet dipped in hot wax and getting the leg massage of life. But let me tell you something my friend, cheese and crackers ain't cheap.  So since I don't have a job I have to sacrifice that awesomeness for food and water. 

That's all Nancy Pelosi's fault.  I bet my paycheck... well if I had one, that she has her nails done.  Ole well put together heffa.

I woke up this morning and I had bruises and scratches on my knee and it was swollen.  I'm pretty sure I walked into a wall or something last night.  If I had a job I would only have a reason to want to drink... but no time to act on it.  Therefore, I wouldn't play full contact sports with shit that don't move.  And my knee wouldn't look like it has it's own heartbeat.  

That's all Mitch McConnell's fault.  His old hateful ass probably put a arthritic root on me so I'd  walk around all frail like him.  Ole geriatric jerk.

Well, I guess I'll go to sleep or something.  Maybe when I wake up this nightmare will be over.  

Diary of An Unemployed American: Day 2

I've been unemployed for 2 days.  Well technically 2.5 since I had to work a half day the first day to "initiate shutdown protocols." Which really meant turning off my computer, locking my desk, and playing Candy Crush until they told me to leave. 

I don't know what to do with myself.  I've been trying as hard as I can to lay low and not be ratchet. I don't know how long that will last though.  If you leave me out on these streets to my own devices there's really no telling what I can get into.

If something pops off and you see me on CNN.... blame Congress. 

I woke up at 4:30 this morning like I had a job to go to.  I wonder how long it will take for me to be able to sleep until 2 in the afternoon? 

I have nothing planned today.  

Well, that's not true.  I did just plan a murder.  Well, okay, maybe not a murder.  Perhaps a simple assault.  Why? Because my husband told me to pause Duck Dynasty so he could show me this booooolshid.  

I'm certain he does these kinds of things to see what my reaction will be.  Normally, I wouldn't be so violent but I'm unemployed dammit!! So.... today's reaction will involve an ice pack for his eye. 

He can blame Congress.  I know I am.

Government Shutdown: A Journal

Hey, I know it's been a while.  I've been sleep.  Just call me Tee Van Winkle. *shrug*

Anyway, I've decided to try and keep some kind of journal during this clusterfuck that is the government shutdown.  Hopefully, I won't get red-flagged or waterboarded.

If you don't hear from me or see me call Olivia Pope. 

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom - Part 2

I got another tattoo yesterday. Three words on my left wrist: serenity, courage, wisdom. A while ago I wrote about why these three words mean so much to me. 

I'd been going back and forth about getting a new tattoo for several months now. So why yesterday instead of 3 months ago? Well, yesterday a friend of mine and I were talking about it so I decided to do it. But that conversation (which was EPIC by the way) is not the only reason why I pulled the trigger.

My anxiety came back. 

For months I've been good. So good that I even stopped carrying my meds around in my purse. I didn't need my 911 pack anymore because I hadn't been dealing with any symptoms. No panic attacks. No insane heart palpitations. No tears.  

But some stuff I thought I got rid of came back and combined itself with some new stress and... BOOM. That elephant was sitting on my chest again. 

I had to remind myself that I cannot change the behaviors of others. I can only change how I react to their behavior. I had to remember that everything is not worth getting riled up and angry about. Some things just aren't worth the fight. 

My peace of mind is far more important than trying to right someones wrongs.

That's what this tattoo means to me. It's a constant reminder that I am more important than whatever the struggle I am going through at the time. I may not be able to control what other people do, but I can control how I react to them.

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom. 

No a tattoo didn't give me those things. It didn't miraculously make my anxiety go away either. I certainly wasn't expecting that. But in some ways I do feel better. 

It's like I have a permanent security blanket. And constant comfort is kind of what I need right now. 

Random Thoughts of an Insomniac

No sleep tonight. I've been laying in the dark and playing Candy Crush Saga for hours.  Even those delightful little candies couldn't keep my thoughts at bay...

• I've started like 6 different entries since my last post. I just can't figure out a way to finish them.  I get an idea and start writing, I just can't close the way I want to.  This must be what it feels like to need a little blue pill...

• I'm only "funny" when I'm sad or super stressed.  The worse I feel the better the one-liners, pot shots, and zingers I give.   

• I'm certain I have the worst case of Mean Girl Syndrome ever recorded in history. 

• EVERYONE is an unsub. Trust no one.  Keep 911 on speed dial and your mace locked and loaded. Stranger danger is real. 

• Prince's afro makes him look like a little Vietnamese lady who trying to be down with the movement.

• Beyonce's ass bet not be pregnant.  Heffa had me jumping through hoops and learning new languages for these damn tickets.  I want to see her stop, drop, roll, pop, lock, Wop, tick, tut, freeze, flip, and flop.  I won't get that if she has a gut full of Carter. 

• I bet the person that won the Powerball is 87 year old retiree with an oxygen tank and 13 cats. 

• I wonder if I can get dual-citizenship in Colorado? 

• Why are all of the houses I want so damn expensive? Ya girl has Ace of Spade dreams on a PBR budget.

• I didn't twist my hair. Gonna be living that Arnold Drummond life today...

• Why are chin hairs so sneaky?

• No news for me for the next few days... my heart can't take it.

• Classical music makes my heart smile.

• So does A$AP Rocky.

Okay that's enough... I'm going to try to lay down for a little while. 

Random Thoughts From My Sick Bed

Well, that 30 Day Challenge was and epic failure. I can't even give a valid excuse for why I didn't complete it. I just didn't. I guess you can call me lazy. I don't mind that judgment. I am lazy. I'm the laziest person you know. If I have to pick between sitting very still and exerting no energy and doing something productive... doing nothing wins every damn time. 

Anyway, these days I've been suffering from an upper respiratory infection. I'm not sure what causes this kind of condition, but I'm going to blame it on the people that I work with. Not because I think they are contagious. Just because I like blaming stuff on them. Co-workers are the best scapegoats for when shit goes wrong in your life. You can blame them all day long and they will be none the wiser.

I'm supposed to be resting right now. But that's the gotcha gotcha. When somebody tells me to rest, I'll find every reason not too. So I guess that makes me the most stubborn lazy person you know. You can judge me for that too. 

I hate being sick. Being sick messes with my sunny disposition. When I'm sick I get mean. I gripe, I snap, I cuss, I kick (only once, and that nurse was being rough so...) So the odds of you getting cussed (that's country for cursed y'all) all the way out are pretty high. Don't take it personally. It's just a caustic combination of hormones, meds, germs, and me. Some folks would call that a Kavorkian-like cocktail. I call it "shut the hell up and leave me alone before I hurt your feelings and we all end up in tears." 

My husband and my son are used to my shenanigans when I'm unwell. In fact I haven't seen either one of them in about 72 hours. They are avoiding me. This makes me sad. Not really, they'll pay for it later. Knowing that makes me happy.

I'm not evil. I'm just sick. 

I'm all stopped up. I'm mouth breathing like Biggie Smalls. I can't hear. I'm dizzy. I'm sneezing. This is not a time in my life that makes me feel like smiling. It's all because of my coworkers. 

If I'm mean to you, blame them. If I flip you the bird for smiling, blame them. If I cut you off in traffic, blame them. If I trip your loud, obnoxious kid in the grocery store... blame me. That's all me. 

I'm starving. I'm probably the only sick person in the world that gets hungry instead of losing her appetite. I've been eating chips, salsa, pizza, candy... It's a problem. But this always happens. I get sick and I gain weight. I eat more when I'm ill than I ever do when I'm feeling okay. So I guess this means I'm the hungriest, stubborn, lazy person you know. 

Whatever. 

Well, that's about all I have today. My mind is all over the place. I didn't even share the most random things I came up with. You would really think I'm crazy if I did.

When this fog clears I'll read this and probably give a big ole WTF, like you are now. 

Until then I'm gonna stay hopped up on meds, OJ, and apple Jolly Rancher sticks. And maybe a 5 Guys burger and some fries...

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 6 - The Hardest Thing You've Ever Experienced

The hardest thing I've ever experienced is marriage. Staying married is hard work. I really don't think folks realize that. That is all. 

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 5 - 5 Things That Make Me Happy

I'm not sure how it happened, but I missed a day.  

Thursday I was supposed to do 5 things that make me the most happy right now. So, I guess I'll do that today and act like yesterday never happened. LOL

OK, so I'm probably the happiest I've ever been in my life. Let's raise the roof for prayer and meds people! Anyway, I'm so happy that it's kind of hard for me to just list 5 things. 

1. My son's smile. That gap toothed smile is the most amazing thing to me. When I see his smile I know that everything is right with the world. I know that I'm doing something right. I know that he is okay. His smile brings me so much comfort. I don't know what I would do if he ever stopped smiling.

2. Jeans that fit. When I find a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly in the butt and hips. Well, the only thing I know how to do is dance a mean little jig of thanks. Length is still an issue, but we are talking about things that make me happy.

3. Fruit Roll Ups. Every now and again I go on a high fructose corn syrup binge. Sometimes it's Haribo gummy bears. Sometimes is apple Jolly Ranchers. These days it's those amazing sheets of sugary goodness. I can't get enough of them. I'm eat 3 right now.

4. Manicures and pedicures. There is nothing better than being pampered with a good mani/pedi. I usually get the paraffin treatment when I go. That hot wax totally helps ease joint pain. The other day I went with oil and honey. Amazing moisturization there folks! Amazing! I also got a gel manicure for the first time. I have no idea what took me so long to try it, but I won't be doing anything else ever again. 

5. Qdoba queso. I'm convinced the stuff is created from the very best cheeses and bound together with angel tears. It's just that amazing. 

There you have it. The 5 things that are making me most happy at this very moment. 

30 Day Blog Challenge - Day 4: 10 Things You Would Tell Your 16 Year Old Self

10 things that I would tell my 16 year old self? This one is hard. Mainly because I barely remember what I was doing 20 minutes ago, let alone damn near 20 years ago. But I guess, I'll try...

1. Don't stop running. Ever.
2. Do not take your abs for granted. You won't have them forever.
3. Yea, he's cute...but he's not the reason your world should turn.
4. Explore your options. 
5. This is it homie. You won't be getting any taller.
6. Study. You won't be able to bullshit your way through college like you did high school.
7. Be nice.
8. Smile.
9. Don't be afraid to try something new.
10. Stay away from high heels. Your ankle will thank you later. 

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 2 - 3 Legitimate Fears

What exactly does legitimate mean in this case? I mean, if I'm afraid of something it's legitimate to me? Why I gotta spend my time trying to prove to people why my fear is real? That's silly.

But I guess if I want to participate in the challenge I've got to play nice. *sigh*

I'm afraid of a lot of things. This happens a lot with people who suffer from anxiety I think. If not, and I'm an anomaly, then sit me down somewhere and study me. Like I said, I'm afraid of a lot of things. The fact that I have to narrow the list down to 3 kind of frightens me. I'm terrified of all of these things equally. I don't want it to seem like I'm playing favorites and then something that I didn't mention comes along and shuts me down.

Let's get this over with.

Fear #1: Possums. I don't know where this fear came from. I just know that it's real. There is something about encountering a 4 foot long rat with sharp teeth and zero damns to give that changes your life forever. I ran into one on my parent's back porch back in 1995. The son of a bitch stood up on it's hind legs and hissed at me an then looked at me like I was the one that wasn't supposed to be there. As I was running away, I swear I heard him say, "When you come back make sure you run me my rent." I moved out of my parents house that day and I haven't been back since.

Fear #2: Creepy Kids. Children of the Corn murked something deep down within my soul. Since I saw the first 10 minutes of that movie, I can no longer tolerate kids with creepy voices, creepy faces, creepy clothes, creepy hair, or anything else that I would consider creeptastic. Y'all can keep all that scary stuff over there with you. Give me a fat, juicy baby that can't talk. Or a teenager that cusses and has a bad attitude. But those in betweeners who always seem to float and get possessed by the devil? No ma'am. You wanna see me cry? Have one of the little girls from Mama say hi to me. I guarantee I'll have a wet face and wet pants. I'm not for that mess at all.

Fear #3: I am deathly afraid of deep water. I don't know how to swim. I don't care to learn. I don't like to float. I don't like the way waves feel against my body. I hate feeling out of control and there is nothing that makes me feel like that more than being submerged in water. I mean it. The last time I was in water of any depth was when I got baptized. And when I tell you I held on to the preacher tighter than a fresh weave on the first of the month? Child please. I don't play those drowning games. He really could have just splashed some water on my forehead and called it a night. 

So, those are 3 of my fears. They may seem crazy to you, but they are legitimate to me. Good night. 

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 1 - 20 Random Facts

OK, so I'm supposed to list 20 random facts about myself. This should be easy, I'm the most random person I know.


1. I'm a speed reader. I've been honing this skill since I was a kid. Not because I have a thirst for knowledge, but because I have a ridiculously short attention span and I need things to get over with quick.

2. I can identify most songs within seconds of them starting. I don't know why or how. I just can.

3. My head is full of random, useless information about everything from pop culture to past US Presidents. One of these days I'm gonna wreck shit on Jeopardy. 

4. I suck at remembering names and faces. But I always remember what a person was wearing. Always. 

5. I've been cursing like a sailor since the 70's.

6. I live my life like it's a musical. Every important moment is assigned a song and occasionally footwork.

7. I've never told a real joke in my life, but lots of people think I'm funny.

8. I cry everyday.

9. I'm afraid of possums, heights, and deep water.

10. I require 8 or more hours of sleep daily. Anything less results in a piss poor attitude and Arnold Drummond hair.

11. My inner fat girl's name is Zenobia. She is the boss of me.

12. I always talk about drinking, but I honestly rarely drink alcohol (once maybe twice a year). I don't like feeling out of control. I also like being sober enough to be able to recall all shenanigans and tomfoolery exhibited by drunk friends. 

13. I have committed my life to living out the following mantras: "Everyone is an Unsub" and "Stranger Danger is Real."

14. I read at least one book a week.

15. I hate white dress shoes, Wal-Mart, tardiness, ashiness, and bad feet.

16. The quickest way to my heart is to make me laugh.

17. I think I'm 6 feet tall. 

18. I collect premium denim, vintage handbags, frogs, funny t-shirts, and shoes.

19. I dance like a old white lady.

20. It may not seem like it, but I'm the nicest person you know. 

I AM Changing!

Amen.

I posted that on Instagram a few weeks ago. I don't even remember what the situation was, I just know that I was doubting myself and somebody came along and confirmed that I shouldn't have been feeling that way.

Well, the same thing happened today. I've been wondering if people could see that changes that I've made as well as I can see them. I've been questioning myself and wondering if what I've done is enough. I know it's not. I know I still have miles and miles of road to travel. I don't know, I guess I'm expecting a neon light or something to float above my head to let folks know there's no danger here... well not as much. 

Anyway, I'm talking a walk on my break at work. I'm feeling down and wondering what else I can do and not really coming up with anything. I duck into the ladies room and almost run into one of the women on the custodial staff. 

We had the following conversation:

Her: You are the girl from the cafeteria.

Me: Ma'am?

Her: You are the girl from the cafeteria. Every time I see you, you have a smile on your face. You always laughing and just enjoying yourself. That makes me smile.

Me: Really?

Her: Oh yes. You always bring me joy.

Me: Wow. Thank you. I guess I just don't have anything to complain about. I'm blessed.

Her: We ALL are.

Then she walked out of the restroom. 

I had never spoken to or even noticed the woman before. But to know that she had seen me. That I had blessed her life in some kind of way! When I tell you I wanted to shout and shuffle in that place? Wooo chile! Ain't no footwork appropriate enough for the magnitude of my feelings. 

SHE BLESSED ME. 

Sometimes God will knock you over the head with the answer to your questions. And for a hardheaded person like me...that's exactly what I need. And he certainly mollywhopped me today.

I have been called a lot of names in my life. But I don't ever recall a time where anyone accused me of being happy. Certainly not a person that brings joy. 

I AM changing. And somebody noticed. Epic y'all. Epic.

Beyonce' knows how I feel...

Promises + Lessons + Decisions = New Beginnings

Today is the last day of 2012.

The 364 days before this one have been full of all kinds of lessons for me. As I sit here writing, I know that I am light years away from where I was on January 1. I've laughed, loved, and lived a lot harder than I have in years. I feel like I look different. Like I walk taller. Like I'm 20 pounds lighter. Even my thoughts are not the same as they used to be. This year, I decided follow my homegirl Erykah Badu's advice and stop being a bag lady. 

Life is far too short to sweat the small things. And it's really way too short to spend a lot of extra time on the big things. Everything is not as important as I want it to be. Learning how to prioritize my issues has been valuable. Now I don't go off the deep end for every little thing.

It's so easy to act a certain way when you feel like you are the only person that is feeling those feelings. But I've learned that thinking that way is wrong. One of my favorite bible verses is, "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 1:9 NIV) These words have made a huge impact on the way that I live my life now. The way that I interpret them gives me comfort. There are people who have survived the same things that I have. There are people who have survived worse.

These days I find it quite selfish of me to want to whine about my horrible coworkers or my relationship problems when there are people who are literally fighting for their lives. I think I am doing a disservice to humanity to be pissed off for days because I didn't like the way somebody talked to me or because of the way I perceived a person to treat me. It's shameful to want to stay angry and be hateful, just because. 

I've decided that my happiness will not be tied to other people. My goals should not be set based on what other people are doing. I dictate the amount of joy that enters my life. 

There are so many things that I am supposed to do before I leave this Earth. I will never get them done if I keep dragging all the baggage with me. That mess is an anchor. It keeps you grounded when you are supposed to fly. 

2012 was the year for me to find my wings. In 2013, I'm going to soar.

Holiday Blessings

I know it's been a few weeks since I posted anything. I've been a little busy lately, so please forgive me. All these distractions have been good for me. This season hasn't taken a toll on me emotionally like it usually does. That's a very good thing. 

A few months ago I started a little side hustle. I've been editing and proofreading manuscripts for independent authors. I haven't really had time to post anything over here because I've been busy helping people bring their dreams of being a published author to fruition. That's pretty damn dope. 

There are lots of folks out there that are writing. I've met some pretty talented and interesting people. It's all pretty cool for a book nerd like me. I'm actually making a little money doing something that I enjoy. 

In addition to that, I've been given the opportunity to write a weekly column/blog for a new website called I Won't Settle. The site is dedicated to committing yourself to wait on (or engage in) a healthy relationship, instead of settling for whatever comes your way. My column will be called "Truth Be Told..." You may see some entries that I've posted on here, likely my faves that I felt needed to shared. Mostly, it's going to be my insights on love, marriage, and relationships in general. I'll be as honest as possible and share my experiences and hopefully help some folks out. I'll have to keep my cussing to a minimum over there, but I made a resolution about a decade ago to slow that down anyway. ;-)

So yeah, I've been having a pretty good Winter. No time to dwell on hurt and ghosts from the past, when my present is so full of blessings! 

Happy dance time....