Friday, July 14, 2006

Still no digital camera...but

Because I'm too lazy (again) to post, here are some more pics of the fam @ Christmas 2005 (and of the dreaded Mother's Day 2006 -- BEFORE I got wasted on Saki Bombers...)

This is a mural of one of my brothers. He sold a house to a couple who now apparently think he some jazzy king of real estate. (You have to know MY brother to understand how funny that it)... Cool mural though. I call it being "immuralized." LOL

One of the approximately 20-30 pics we took to get ONE decent one of the siblings...

And then -- um, Mother's Day before I tried to drink myself to death. (That's me with the one of the sis-in-laws on the right end. I pretty much ruined that little black dress...

That's me and one s-i-l on the right end, a good, good friend (and fellow Alaskan) in the middle -- and y'all know I'm talking about the only other Black chick...
Another s-i-l on the left end, standing next to the little lush who started me on them damn Saki Bombers.

And once again... Messed up a pic:

And ***drumroll please***
the ONE halfway decent sib pics: I give y'all the Conway Crew...

Thanks to Supa, I cropped some of the ashy ankle angles! LOL

All righty. Now I just have to take some updated photos. Maybe I'll do "before'n after" pics of my about-to-be-cut hair.... Yeah. I'm still on that kick.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Gospel Song

I'm gonna go to hell for laughing at this baby, but this is funny. (My aunt says this is why some people should just usher.) All I want to know is: where is this child's mama? Did his daddy send this in to AFV?

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Fearless. Peerless. Free.

Since I am now 45 years old -- Grown & Sexy, as Supa would say -- I resolve to live life a little fuller from the here on out. Not by making major life changes (I'm not good at major or changes), but by taking tastier bite-sized pieces of being me.

I know y'all noticed my new motto: Fearless. Peerless. Free. So, I resolve to:

Smile more.
Life is so very beautiful in all the happy & sad, good & bad colors it comes in. Smiling will be my constant and consistent Thank You to God for it all.

Flirt more.
Well, okay -- I'm already a huge flirt, but going to try to keep that up.

Dance more.
Not so long ago, I was my own private dancer. I danced around the house, bopped my head while I drove, and choreographed moves for every daily chore and tribulation. I'm not sure when I stopped feeling the music so deeply, but I'm convinced it was around the time I first started trying to be more "adult."

Buy more upper-body lingerie.
It's official folks: Thanks to my Victoria's Secret gift certificate, your girl Free now owns a bra. Last time I owned anything with cups and straps was when I was getting married and Mama just didn't believe I should be bra-less until after the wedding. Now, I have to tell you, it was a little embarrassing getting fitted to find out that I'm a 36B. After she finished snickering, my well-endowed niece taught me the ABC's of chesticles: A= Attempt, B=Bless your heart, C= Complete, and D=Damnnnnn!

That's cool, tho. My little shit looks good propped up here. Hell -- I damn near have cleavage. Plus, I have my VS wings now (They came with a credit card) LOL.

Practice my autograph.
I'ma need a cool Hancock for when my stuff hits Bestseller status. (Yeah, all right, I know, I know -- it's got to hit published status first!)

Quit cussing so fucking much.

Write erotica.
(Under a pen name, tho.) I had to cut a good fourteen pages out of "Enough" because it's supposed to be romance and not porn. That mess was good, y'all -- too good to shred. Plus, I need the money to support my new Bath & Body/Victoria's Secret habit... (Did you guys know the companies are related? Yep.)

Smoke at least one joint.
Never have & never regretted it, but I want to see what it does for my creative processes.

Quit threatening to take time off from blogging.
First of all, I never follow through. Matter of fact, I usually get freaking prolific two seconds after I make the vow. Second of all, my blogs are like steam vents on a tea kettle. I need to let off some of my thoughts here so that the good ones don't boil over before I get them onto paper.

Write poetry.
I love poetry and I have tried my hand at it, but I really suck. Too damn bad, tho. I'ma torture the hell out y'all when I start posting verse on this blog!

So. Sound good? I think so. Of course, I have the attention span of an embryo & I'll probably forget half these resolutions before I sign off.



Saturday, July 01, 2006

Birthday Re-cap

Forgive any bad writing/spelling/etc. I'm going to whip through this post fast.

Surprisingly, I had a wonderful birthday. Things started on Thursday -- the day
before the big day -- and haven't completely finished. I don't think I'm going to win any awards for having the most exciting birthday, but I do know I've had one of the most touching and close-to-my-family days ever.

First off, let me say that I had a little bit of an interesting start to my week. I won't go into details, but I'll say that there was an unpleasant "incident." (A friend called me up when he heard & teased the hell out of me: "Girl... You went all Stella and then dumped your 'groove' and now he wanting to whoop yo ass!!!" That mess was funny & still cracks me up.) After that, I expected to have a lousy week, but, instead, things got much better. Sometimes, there's nowhere for shit to go but uphill.

I had put in a while back to take Friday off work. The older I get, the less I dig the silliness some people spring on a birthday celebrant. For years, I'd take a Valium, slap a phony smile on my face, and march in to the office to deal with all the joke gifts and cards that were going to be decorating my desk. As a supervisor, I had a crew of employees who considered it their mission in life to outdo each other in the gag-the-supe category. (This was probably passive-aggressive payback for anything I'd done on their reviews or pay-raises...) The hi-jinks got so out of hand one year that I remember a girlfriend having to take me out IMMEDIATELY after work for drinks to stave off the onset of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

How different it is to be working for and with family. Not just my blood relatives, but with people who feel more connected than your average group of employees. Of course, my taking Friday didn't deter these folks. They just upped the love by one day. No sneaky/questionable gag gifts this time. Just a lot of thoughtful, sweet and loving offerings to celebrate my special day.

Of course, it's not a birthday at work without decorating the birthday girl's office. I walked in to see a huge bouquet of balloons and streamers. My gifts were stacked on the desk (covering the work that was already piling up!) and the hugs that morning were a little tighter and longer than usual. There were genuine wishes of "Happy Birthday," lots of God-bless-you's, and one whispered sentiment ("I'm so glad God brought you here to Arizona & into our lives") that almost made me bawl like a mother of the bride. Hugging your brother/boss feels different when his eyes get a little bit damp & he has to play it off by joking that, as his baby sis, I must now lie about my age so that he doesn't feel too old! Then, of course, I have to flirt with all the agents who dig my new outfit (gift from my big sis who knows to throw in the silver jewelry for accessories.)

The group of us spent half and hour chatting and relaxing while I have my pic taken as I read cards and open gifts before we settle down to work. We had to because even the clients were starting to get their party on with us!

That would have been more than enough for me, but:


Lunch? I never take lunch. I work less than 8 hours, so I usually buzz right through with just coffee and one of the little snacks we all share during the day. This day, though, was special, so a little before noon, I'm told to grab my purse and gifts because we're shutting down shop for a while and all heading to one of my favorite places (yes, folks, I was about to have me some of that famous bread pudding).

We get to Famous Dave's and my nieces/nephews/friends/family are all there. I had ribs (of course) and the pudding (of course -- and mine came with ONE spoon... No sharing for the birthday girl, tho I did take back a tiny bit for the receptionist who was left behind to hold down shop), and we all made way too much noise while we enjoyed each other's company. The folks as FD's must think birthday calories don't count since they gave me a "Birthday Sundae." Are you kidding me? I donated that one to the kids.

Back to work (work? I think I actually touched three sheets of paper and answered one phone call) and still feeling good. I feel a whole lot better when my brother tells me I don't have to be back in to work until Wednesday -- AND my days off are going to be (gasp!) paid. As Snoop says: "Hell yeah!"

When I got home, I was exahusted. Bread pudding is like a freaking sedative! Throw in some of this Arizona heat and I'm like Jeff Foxworthy after great sex: "You may as well put up crime tape, folks" 'cause I'm out for hours!

I laid across the bed to read through birthday cards again, and... SLEPT from about six-thirty until eleven at night. Damn. This old-age crap kicks in immediately. LOL

I get up and have a cleaning fit. Twelve oh one. I'm officially 45. That's 4 tens and 5 singles. Forty-freaking-five. Just five years from a half century... Dag.

I take down the frame with Daddy's picture and give him a kiss. God, I miss him so much.

I go in the other room and talk to my mother for a minute. I tell her how thankful and joyous and scared and deliciously excited about the future I am. I tell her how much I love and miss her and wish she was here whenever I get anxious about being older and having to live this life of mine on my own. "Oh, god, Mama. Tell me what to do." (And, yeah, I know, it's just her ashes in a box, but her heart's somewhere hearing me when I have these conversations with her.)

One o'clock in the morning & I'm vacuuming the living room, dusting, and making sure the new curtains in the living room are hanging juuu-st right... Two o'clock & this house is clean. Still wired up, I get some writing done. No, not just some -- A LOT.

Later in the day, when normal people are just making it in to work, I'm still writing. My hands are flying over the paper and I'm wearing pens into a leaky mess. I'm like AliceWalkerStephenKingSalinger on speed. The ideas are flowing, bits and pieces of dialogue that have been sneak-attacking some hidden part of my brain now come out, come together and just work... Beautiful. Then my hands cramp up and I've got to take a break and let my fingers rest and my mind idle down a bit. I think I can literally feel the motor in my head hummmmm with relief.

Around nine-thirty, my cell starts ringing my new ring tone (EW&F, of course, with "That's the Way of the World.")

First call: SWV & En Vogue serenading me with the Birthday song. (O.K., so it's really just my sis-in-law and the other ladies from the office. They make jokes: I have to get in there now because the office is just falling apart without me... ha. ha. ha. ha... And: When I come back to work Wednesday, don't bother looking for the chocolate I hid in the back of the fridge because they had to, uh, throw it out. Yeah, that's it, it was contaminated and went And: we have eleven months to find Keanu Reeves because I simply must get laid by by him before next year's birthday. We've got plans outlined.) Finally, they remind me of our date for a limo cruise and drinks. Like the last time we did this I didn't almost end up in the hospital for alcohol poisoning!

Second call: Brother # 2 telling me it's all right to be 45 when you look this good. Damn. Good present, bro. Better than the Nordstrom certificate -- not that I'm giving it back or anything. LOL.

Twenty minutes later, another call, then another, then another. Cool. Just a lot of well-wishes and "I love you's" from the family -- blood-related and otherwise. From Anchorage, Fairbanks, Houston, Dallas, Ft. Worth, Big Spring, Hope, Great Britain, Scottsdale, Mobile, Seattle... They're just wearing my Earth, Wind and Fire out.

Still later, the flowers (one delivery from a "secret admirer"... How "secret" since he obviously knows my favorites are Red Anthurium... hmmmmm)...

...more gifts (I don't have to tell you that one of them is a Victoria's Secret gift card)...

...more "Love You's" -- which are my favorites. I'm so senti-sappy-mental. Or just plain mental!

Now -- having a secret admirer is interesting, but it kind of fucks with my wild-assed imagination -- you know: is it someone I'll dig or someone I'll **shudder** not dig, or.... OMG -- is it, could it be... TIM??? (You see now why I have to keep my mind off the thought until I know more. Just stresses my head all out.)

Moving on.

Because the agent has written me back ("Everything" is still "under consideration"), and because I'm on a writing roll, and because I tend to go Cancer-Hermit-Crab-like when I get on a roll, I postpone the dinner and drink invites. Because everyone is family -- or love me for other reasons -- they all understand and don't push me. (Plus, them neegras know they all trying to plan their Fourth.) So, I have dinner and drink plans scheduled into the end of week after next. The one I'm looking most forward to is with Edith -- the only woman I know who can say "Fuck you, motherfucker" and make it sound as classy as a queen ordering up tea and scones. (She's funny and sweet and cracks me up & is also so unnaturally beautiful that I feel like the invisible woman when we're together.... Have men tripping over my feet to get to her...) Also, I suspect I have a little "Bougey" in me because I'm looking forward to my limo ride. I don't know why I love that so much... Bougey. Just freaking broke-ass bougey.

So, the celebrations will go on.

Today -- I'm going to take a writing break later so I can hit Victoria's Secret(sale alert!!!) and Bath & Body to scoop my birthday booty. Best of all: I have four whole & glorious days to WRITE. My goal is to finish the first draft of "Enough." (We'll see. It's just a goal, not a paying contract with the Devil.)

Thanks for all the sweet wishes y'all sent my way here and via email. Love it.


Thoughts I can't get out of my head:
"OMG! Is my secret admirer Tim?
OMG, OMG, OMG... Tim?"

Note to Supa & anybody else who's lost stuff on Blogger:
"Try Blogger for (Microsoft) Word. Cool tool. My thoughts never leave home without it."

Stevie Wonder: "Do I Do"

Laziness Factor: HIGH
I'm posting this on My Space & Blogger

Friday, June 30, 2006

For My Lady Blogger Buddies

Okay - and the guys too. Anyone who wants to laugh. No post today, so enjoy this. It was given to me yesterday when I went to lunch with my office family. I'm surprised we weren't kicked out of the place. I'm not sure who wrote it, but YOU WILL LAUGH. (It's a little long...)

CAUTION: Be prepared to laugh out loud!

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet." So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out.


So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works! OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this! Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the one strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my "honey pot" and stretching down to the inside of my ass cheek (Yes, it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. OH NO! What have I done???!!! Another deep breath and RRIIP! P!! Everything is swirly and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip! There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I am touching wax. WHAT?! I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, my "man magnet". Which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.

Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down. My

LIFE FLASHES BEFORE ME!!!!!! I hear the slamming of a cell door. Kooter? Sealed shut! Ass?? Sealed shut! Both sealed tighter than

Fort Knox!!!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to Shit! My head may, quite frankly, just pop off!"

What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!

I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right??? WRONG!!!!!!!

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your ass and nether regions glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cement-epoxied myself to the porcelain!!

God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter -

"So girlfriend, my ass and "kitty" are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"

There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking your ass and crotch?" She must be reveling in humor and wantsme to repeat it for her enjoyment.

She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box. YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to scraping the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better then to have your "man hole" girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on my cooch, and

OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.

It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.

"IT WORKS!! It works!!"

I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!!!!!!!!!! Looking like an Osama Bin Laden gotee!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color.....

Now that's funny ........ Notttttttttt.

Send this on to other ladies who need a good laugh!

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and I could say, "I used everything that you gave me"~Erma Bombeck

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Taking a moment to breathe

No matter what it looks like I haven't gone completely lazy on this blog. I'm just taking a little time to breathe. But I thought I should check in to see how my blog-buddies are doing. I don't want y'all to think I melted off the face of the earth (although that's entirely possible to do!)

It's been so hot the past few days that I've been staying inside as much as possible. I hear that when it hits the 120's, it's not even "cool" to go out in the afternoons. Even a houseful of scorpions won't be able to run me out of the house then, so I guess that will make for a good time to write! In the meantime, I've been making lists of things I want to do - you know, all those things you put off because of lack of time, laziness, or just letting the world get in the way. Here's my list so far (and I don't want to hear no mess about all the food-related items...):

1. Go back to Olive Garden with my family and spend at least 3 hours there (just like you see in the commercials). I want everyone to order something different so I can try a taste of EVERYthing. I want to sit there and relax so long that all the people still waiting for a table will really hate us.

2. Hit this new spot my sis-in-law told me about:
early on, nice live jazz, with plenty of table-seating and good appetizers; later on, a DJ and more crowded, but we won't care because we'll have our table already. I can't remember the name of the place right now, but I want to say it sounds like "Nodu," Nibo"... Something like that. At any rate, I'm excited because, supposedly, it's for the grown and sexy. Get to dress up and see people wearing something other than shorts, tanks and flip-flops.

3. Go to a non-Vegas casino. I'm not big on the gambling thing, but I want to see what the big deal is about all the different places on the reservations. (I've been to Vegas a few times & pretty much stroll the slots with my cup of nickels and free drinks... More on that later.) I'm pretty sure the reservations will be a scaled back version of the Vegas houses, and I'm curious to see what the food will be like. And then...

4. ...Go to Vegas. And this time, catch some of the shows. I swear, I never have made it past the buffets or the cheap-o slots -- not that I don't plan to eat, but maybe I'll actually go into a place that doesn't have big steel warming trays lined up against the wall! Once before, I spent one evening people-watching, just absolutely fascinated by the assortment of weirdos who hang out in such beautiful hotels. (Also, while I'm there, I want to go to the one casino that features the rollercoaster... Or maybe that's at more than one place???)

5. Drive over to Texas and Arkansas to see some of the extended fam. It will be nice to take a road trip that doesn't take forever or involve crossing the border of Canada. Of course, this means I have to hurry and sell this truck AND wait for gas prices to come down to a little cheaper than the price of gold.

6. Get me some nice stationary and write some real paper-and-ink letters. I almost didn't know how to address the envelope when I wrote my grandma "Aunt Ollie." That whole envelope and fold 'n stamp thing just taxed my brain! It's so much easier to hit a SEND button.

7. Get back to work on the family tree. It's taking me longer to do that thing than it took to create the family. There's just not enough time in my life for both the family tree and the writing. As it is, you see I'm struggling to break out of hermit-writer mode.

8. Do more reading on writing. I took time out the other day to catch up on John Baker's blog. I tell you what, that man has so many encouraging and useful words for the writer. I read through his various "lessons" & felt like a really hungry person pulling up a seat at a table set for kings. (And wouldn't you know that some of his advise was to not forget to do things other than write.)

9. Cut my hair. Yep. I'm tired of this mop. Arizona's climate is not exactly friendly to ethnic hair. Like I said, I don't have oodles of time these days & the whole hair-care thing is working a tired nerve. I'm trying to work up to going ultra-short because that would be the easiest. Just wash & oil the crown and go. Of course, not everyone can pull off the short look. And I don't want to end up with one of those styles that takes more time than longer hair does - you know, having to gel it, slick it, tie it... At least with longer hair, I can always snatch this stuff back into a tail or bun. I'm not a fan of sleeping in curlers, doo-rags, wraps, etc. Shoot, I tried to sleep in some sponge curlers the other night & almost gave myself a heart attack while I was still on scorpion watch. Sponge curlers are cruel. I slept right out of one of them bad boys, woke up and felt something next to my face... Hey. I rolled and hit the floor like a SWAT trainer. So, uh...yeah. I need a low-maintenance shortie style. I might need to go try on some wigs before I make a commitment.

10. Go with my girlfriends to my new favorite place to eat at least once a month. First of all, I think it's very important for women to make time for each other. We get all caught up with work, life drama, and waiting to exhale that we forget to come together every now and then to just breathe. Breathe in some shared chick wisdom, empathy, encouragement, tears - both the laughing and crying kind. Just to be women together.

Second of all, Famous Dave's has bread pudding that makes my mouth go "Yippee!" I ain't lying, I have never had such a combination of light/fluffy/cool/sweet heaven on my tastebuds. It's just a joy. Truly. (And it comes with enough spoons to share, so you don't feel like a blimp when you leave.) Then, when and if I get tired of Famous Dave's , I guess the girls and I can rotate to one of the other 3 million places they have to eat around here. (There's a little bar and grill that I noticed a week ago... I might need to cruise back by there and see what the menu looks like.)

11. Spend some time not writing, not working on the Tree, and not doing anything that restricts my mind to moment, time or place. I guess I just want to spend some time to let my mind breathe. (What is it with me and this Breathe theme???)

12. Take more pictures. Of the family, of the scenery, of life as it's happening. AND actually get the pics developed (or printed) and labelled. New photo album time. Years from now, when people look at the photos, they'll know who's who & exactly why they're laughing with their mouth hanging all open - because I will not only label the pics, but make little notations. So there.

13. Donate to a couple of those funds for kids. I'd like to pick two charities: one for local kids and another for a child anywhere in the world. (I'm too fickle, selfish and moody to say that I could be a Big Sister volunteer. I could just see myself breaking dates with the child whenever I had a mood swing.)

14. Keep adding to this list. I don't ever want to get to a point where I don't crave breathing new air. (Damn! There's that breathe thing again. I need to set some time aside to explore this with my inner psychologist.)

So there you have it: the Do List. Let's just all pray for October to get here. For now I'm not trying to do anything that requires walking more than 20 feet from my ride until this heat shuts down a little.


Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Arizona's About to Piss Me OFF

Still being lazy. This time, I have a good excuse: I'm so tired I could drop and sleep for YEARS - except I can't. The following letter that I sent with a photo to family and friends a minute ago will explain.

To: ----various friends & fam back home & around the States----

I meant to send this when we got it. This is the pic us Conway brothers & sisters took when we were all together for Christmas /New Years 2005.

I have to tell you guys: I really do like it here. Really. Mike doesn't like it as much, but that's cause it's still summer.

Anyway - I have survived the heat (112 the highest so far & headed to be 121 before it's over). I have survived the 14-mile commute. That doesn't sound like much to some of you, but my Anchorage folk know that that's a lo--oong ass drive unless you're traveling with luggage.

I have survived going to a mall so huge that they had a parking lot bigger than all of South Anchorage - we used valet parking. Now, you know a parking lot is too damned big if they have to have valet parking... And, yes, I paid the five bucks so that Mike wouldn't have to walk so far.

Folks, I have even survived a run-in with a spider that looked like it wanted to box me like Ali. It would have won, so I just clocked its nasty self with a Payless shoe.

So, I can call myself a trouper, a surviver, a chick who can handle some stress and changes in life.


Last night, I saw my first ever scorpion. And I didn't just see it from across the room. I damn near slowed danced with it. Nasty little thang was clinging to the side of the wall when I took my stupid Alaskan we-only-have-beetles behind into the dark walk-in closet to grab my nightgown off the hook. It was just waiting, like it hoped I hadn't seen it. I thought it was a splinter until my gown brushed it and made it twitch.

Thank God my niece was there in the house. Gabby cupped it, tossed some bleach in on it and put it outside in the heat where it has since disentegrated (I hope). And Gabby also coaxed me down out of the middle of the kitchen table (holding my nightgown up around me like some chick off of "Little House On the Praire." She calmed me down by swearing that it's RARE to see 2 scorpions in the same night. Apparently, they don't get along with each other.

All righty then.

I came down off the table, my pulse slowed to a mild gallop, and I quit twitching like a crack fiend.

Until we saw the second one.

Aw, shit, people. We had the Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston duo if scorpions.

Thank God that Mike was in the hospital (that's another story & she's out now), Chubby and Tasha were at the hospital visiting - with cell phones turned OFF... Joe was in Nevada on business. Wow. Just me and Gabby and the Scorpion King and Queen.

I called Joe on his cell and asked him to call his pest control guy. This fool LAUGHS at me. "Trudy, baby, I don't carry those kinds of numbers around with me. Plus, they're closed at night." (Closed at NIGHT??? At night. Closed... Okay - hold that thought 'cause I'm gonna get back to it in a minute.)

Now, Joe's wife & kids are in Mexico, so I could've gone on over to his house. But that's a drive in the dark, in my pajamas - which are hiked all up around my butt. Besides, leaving our house means I have to come down off the table again.

Somehow, we make it through the night (house lit up like Uncle Hotshot on some MD 20/20). In the morning, Gabby's gone to work already. I'm not trying to get in a shower where Scorpio and his pals might want to run my ass out into the street naked and wet. The solution: Ho-bath. Or "Hooker Wash-Off," if you want to be nicer. (Yep, you heard me & don't play like you don't know.) And pull out whatever clothes I can that aren't DEEP off in the closet. Took my toothbrush, hairbrush & deodorant to the office with me & got there so early, I got to park in some shade.

Joe had called and left numbers with somebody at the office & they had a pest guy meet me at work. He's coming tomorrow. (Don't ask me about tonight unless you want lessons on how to sleep while propped up on a dining table.)

Now, back to that whole deal about the pest control place being CLOSED AT NIGHT.

Jesse (the nice pest control rep) signs me up for a regular service. We chit-chat about my little run-in with the stinging little thugs of the insect world - or whatever sect of creatures scorpions belong to. Jesse tells me that they tend to REALLY come out when it gets hot. (What the hell does he call the 112-degree weather we've been having the past couple of weeks???) I'm telling Jesse what a rough night I had & tell him that it's too bad he can't get someone out to the house today so they could be there while I take a nap. Jesse says...

(.... Hang on. Wait for it...)

"Oh, go on home and take a nap if you want. The scorps" (yeah, he calls them that) "won't bother you now. They're nocturnal."

nocturnal adj 1: (biology) belonging to or active during the night; "nocturnal animals are active at night"; "nocturnal plants have flowers that open at night and close by day" [ant: diurnal] 2: of or relating to or occurring in the night; "nocturnal darkness" 3: of or during or relating to the night; "a nocturnal journey"; "nocturnal stillness"; "nocturnal predators" Source: WordNet (r) 1.7

"Nocturnal predators." Don't nobody here need to whip out Websters for "predators."

Was that mess supposed to make me feel better? "They're nocturnal." Like I don't know big words (or at least how to use a dictionary)...

Right now it's about 7:40pm. Getting a little dusky outside. I'm tired as hell, but I ain't going to be trying to cop no deep doze tonight. Them little "nocturnal" bastards are just waiting. I know it.

So. Y'all take a good look at me in that picture I attached. I'll probably look 40 years older the next time you see me.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006


I think I've said it before, but I really hate those annoying mails you get with the sappy sayings, etc. Recently, I got the best email ever. All about friendship & so cute (and true) that my lazy ass is going to post it instead of using my own brain to come up with something tonight. Show you just how lazy I am, I'm going to post the SAME thing on my new My Space blog! And, by the way - feel free to drop by there to see my "space" or my blog there... As if an "analog" sister like myself can keep up with another spot in the WWW. (Stop laughing, Supa and Abeni!)

Sister girl is tired tonight, so 'scuse the slow down for a minute or two. I will be back!



True Friendship

Are you tired of those sissy-ass "friendship" poems that always sound
good, but never actually come close to reality? Well, here is a series
of promises that actually speak of true friendship:

1. When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot revenge
against the sorry bastard who made you sad.

2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.

4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every chance I get.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how
much worse it could be until you quit whining.

6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.

7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you are well
again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass. (I dedicate this one to my non-friends - like the klutzy parking lot blonde!)

9. This is my oath..... I pledge it to the end. "Why?" you may ask;
"because you are my friend".

Send this to 10 of your closest friends, then get depressed because you
can only think of 4.

Remember......A good friend will help you move.....a REALLY good friend
will help you move a body.......let me know if you ever need me to bring
a shovel.

Friendship is like peeing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you
can feel the true warmth.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Alaskan Eagle

This is just a cool pic I wanted to share. As I sit around in the 100+ heat, I like to glance at this photo every now and then. How nice and cool the air looks! LOL. And check out those beautiful mountains... I do miss the natural beauty of my former state. I'm falling in love with AZ, but Alaska is just so unique. It's not like you have to ride out anywhere to see the scenery (o.k. - well, maybe to see the eagles) - you could just get anywhere without a building in the way & look out on this kind of loveliness.

A friend of mine took pictures while riding along the Seward Highway in Alaska a few years ago & caught this one of an eagle. (I have another she took of the eagle having "lunch," but it's a little graphic & I didn't want to upset anyone.

P.S.: ANOTHER Alaska friend popped into town & I might be able to hook up with him this coming weekend. I'm SO happy to hear a voice from my old home town... (And, BTW - I uploaded this pic earlier this weekend & am just now posting it now - Sunday ... Blogger can be so weird...)

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Bad Girl Karma

God is gonna get me, 'cause everybody know: He don't like ugly, and this afternoon, I was SUCH a bad girl. (A HAPPY bad girl, but still...)

Here's what happened:

I was out in the parking lot taking a personal phone call - one of those you don't want people in the office listening in on. Rates right up there with making an appointment with your GYN or a private psychic (and I'm kidding - I don't mess with that kind of stuff - the psychic, I mean). So, there's a doctor's office right next to ours & there's this one chick who's always coming and going. I think she's the wife or girlfriend to the doc. Drives a smoking little BMW, wears hot pants that James Brown would dig, and works a walk to and from the car like she's on a fashion ramp in Milan. She is a pretty lady, I'll give her that. Blonde, tall, leggy, but extremely thin (I'm talking thin like Nicole Richie on a hunger strike), and sort of, um... preserved-looking - you know, like, she's had everything bonded, capped, plated, inflated - all that "Doctor 90210" kind of stuff. But, still, pretty - or maybe I should say she's striking. One of those people you will notice.

So, I'm out there in this hell-hot sun, trying to have my conversation and spray sunscreen on at the same time (yeah - I usually carry my sunscreen around with me) & Pretty Chick comes strutting out of the office next door. She does her walk (one that men probably visualize as happening in slow-mo & set to porno music) over to that hot-looking car of hers, opens the door, and - just when she's about to do the whole smooth duck-and-slide-into-the-seat move, the heel on her shoe must have twisted or something. I don't know. All I saw from where I stood (watching, of course) was that she was there one minute - all 5 foot maybe 9 inches tall - and the next... bloop. It's like she just disappeared.

(Maybe I told you all before about a friend of ours who slid under a car on some Alaska winter ice... Maybe not. Anyway, I had a flashback of that when Pretty Chick slid out of my sight the way she did. It was like a David Blaine moment.)

Of course, I paused talking on the phone to try to see what had happened. For a minute, nothing. Then, I see ol' girl pulling herself up on the side of the car. Hair all jacked up, one side of her outfit dusty... And she's red-faced embarrassed. I realized what had happened. She'd made that one too-cute move that sometimes goes all wrong on ya & busted her foxy ass right there in the parking lot.


Maybe because I just needed a good laugh, or maybe 'cause I really am kind of a bitch sometimes - I don't know what the reason is, but I just FELL OUT laughing. Like to broke something in my side I was so tickled. I'm talking head back, mouth open and LOUD, country-fied laughing. The kind of laughing you usually try to hold in reserve for when you're just around people you're real comfortable with. Whoo!

Then, maybe cause I just needed that laugh so bad,
I couldn't stop. Every time I tried to get that mess under some kind of control, it hit me fresh again. I couldn't even catch my breath to talk long enough to explain to my conversation partner what the deal was. (The person on the other end of the phone doesn't know me REAL well, but by the time I got through, I had HER laughing. She didn't even know what was so funny. All I managed to tell her was, "I'll have to call you later.")

Now. Pretty Chick can hear me laughing. People TWO BLOCKS away could probably hear me laughing. But. I. Can't. Help. It.

When P.C. finishes dusting herself off, she shoots me a glare hotter than the AZ sun & then bops her butt on into her ride. That should've made me feel a little bit ashamed of myself, but it just set me off again. While she was giving me a look and trying to play like she hadn't just toasted her ass on that hot ground, I was thinking she might ought to just concentrate on not hurting herself again.

So, oh yeah - if there's such a thing as karma, or if Karma has a cousin called Payback - I'm in for some trouble. But it was worth it.

How sad is that? It took someone else's clumsy misfortune to lift my blues completely away. I'm telling you: I'm STILL laughing as I type this. Pretty Chick is going to hate me for a long time, but she's given me a gift. For at least the next ten years, every time I need a chuckle, all I'm going to have to do is remember her little moment in the sun. (Of course, I won't be trying to run into her in the parking lot. She's almost anorexic, but I bet she could step on me without lifting her leg too high.)

Y'all better pray for me 'cause I have a bill coming for this one. Either I'm going to fall, slide, or trip. Something. Life just does not give away the laugh I got today without a collection notice.


Sunday, May 28, 2006

The Ulu

By the way - this is what an Ulu is. I decided that I am going to get a couple for the neighbors. Shoot - I'm going to get an extra one for me. I can't remember if I packed my old one...


Neighbors & Cohorts

I talk to my old snoop-buddy neighbor back in Anchorage almost every weekend when my T-Mobile minutes are free. We talk about her new neighbors - the ones who have my old house (she hates them), the old neighbors (she never did like but one of them), and my new neighbors.

I've been so lucky. I have nice neighbors here. I think I told y'all about Doug and Linda, who live right next door to my left. They are an older-than-me (50/60-ish) couple. She is hilarious & reminds me of the women from the south. She can talk about someone under her breath while they are standing 3 feet away, cracking me up while she never makes a face. He is a Suns fan, but I dig him anyway. When some strange company van showed up the other day and two guys started digging up my yard "to lay cable," I went & got Doug to come and find out what the deal really was. Not because I am a helpless female or thought the guys were lying to me, but because I wanted them to know that I am close enough to my neighbors that should they try anything, someone would be watching. Doug was great. He ascertained that the guys were legit (he knew of the company they represented), and he made sure they planned to put my yard back right when they were finished with their work. They did. I think they even added a couple of plants!

This morning, I got a call from the moving company that's bringing my stuff in from Anchorage. So happens I'm home alone. Everyone else is at church. I stayed home in case the movers did show up today. When they called to say they were just several miles out, I realized I was going to be parading around the house alone directing them on where to place boxes. Normally, I'd feel safe enough, but Doug and Linda are out of town & I'm keeping an eye out on their empty house. Hmmm... Now might be a good time to meet my other neighbors. The lady across the street (who came and introduced herself one day & told my sister about the drama of her life as wife of a man with several outside-the-marriage children...) was not home. Maybe she and her hubby are on one of his parental visits? So... I went to the neighbor on the other side of Doug and Linda's. I've seen and waved to this man - older gentleman with Memorial Day flags flying everywhere. He walks around the yard, tanned and shirtless, so I admire his toughness already. I tiptoe through an immaculate yard with some of the most beautiful plants and shrubbery I've ever seen. More American flags on the door columns, and a doormat with a Marine's logo. The doorbell plays a few strains of the "National Anthem." Yeah. This guy is all right with me. I'm from a family of military men. Any soldier, sailor, airmen or marine is up one in my book from the get-go.

Russ answered the door & when I introduced myself, I got the story of his retirement from the Marines, how he and his wife spend their days, and a bio of at least five other neighbors. Cool dude. He assured me that he would wander down and keep an eye out for me with all those male movers going in and out of my house. He already knew I was from Anchorage because he'd met my brother when Joe was fixing up the house for me to move in. Russ is a man, remember, and Joe drives a really cool car. Men and cars. I'm talking to Russ in a tank top and shorts - half-naked by Alaska standards - but I bet he remembers more about the features on Joe's car than he does about the clothes I was wearing. Men. Cars.

Anyway. I have nice neighbors. I'm thinking I should have my niece send me a couple of Ulus - which are Native Alaskan knives, used for everything from skinning animal hides to food prep. I want to gift them to my neighbors because I realize I could've ended up with mean, spiteful people who never speak or acknowledge my presence. I could have ended up with neighbors who leave nasty notes in my mailbox.

Poor Liz, my old snoop-buddy... I bet she won't be sending any gift baskets across the road to the "Poops." This is what she nicknamed the neighbors after the Episode of the Nasty Note. I can't wait until she can visit me here. After we hit Olive Garden and Ulta Cosmetics to pick up some lotion and sunscreen, I'm going to take her over to meet Doug, Linda, and Russ. Maybe we can all have a little backyard bbq? Maybe I can talk her into moving here. There's a cute little house for sale just about eight doors down from me...


"Good neighbors share more than property lines!"

I don't know. I told y'all I been slacking off.


The State Farm song keeps running through my head and blocking any other coherent thoughts, but maybe that Gladys Knight/Elton John/Dionne Warwick song about friends???


Saturday, May 27, 2006

The Happenings

I've really been slacking on the blog thing. Matter of fact, I've been slacking on a lot of things. I really must learned to be more disciplined.

I think it's the creative child in me that makes me keep a hundred different things going on at once. I start on too many things & get all frustrated when I can't keep up with it all. Why do I do this to myself?

I have a list of topics I want to cover in the blog over the next few weeks, but everytime I glance over the list, I can't pick any subject I want to tackle at the moment. So I end up rambling. Like now.

I promised myself I was going to make time EVERY DAY to work on the novel, but I'm so disappointed in not hearing back from the agent on the first book yet that I get blocked. At first, I'd set the goal of getting up at 5 a.m. to work on the book. That would give me a couple of hours to write & still have a minute to relax before getting ready to be to work by 10. (I got up right on time for the first 3 days, wrote absolutely nothing worth the ink I used, and was ragged out tired by the time I got to work.) My next plan was to devote a couple of hours to my writing after work... Yeah. Right. I'd come in & feel too brain dead from learning about contracts, buyers, sellers, commissions, etc... Not to mention that I'd be so hot that all I wanted was to get a shower (and think about how this salty assed water is drying out my skin) and vegetate on the back porch.

My latest plan for keeping up with my writing is to devote at least half the weekend to it. This being the first weekend, I've already blown that one. My nephew (the airman) has come for a visit, my younger nieces/nephews are all having end-of-the-year parties that I have to make appearances at, and my household goods from Alaska are scheduled to be delivered either this or tomorrow morning.

I guess I don't have to tell you that I haven't gotten very much done on the novel this weekend.

Then there's this blog. At least I'm getting something done here - if nothing else but to bitch about everything else!

Last of all, I think I must be a part-time idiot. Remember how I was feeling exhausted? I thought it was just stress, etc... Yeah. It's probably some of that, but it doesn't help that I haven't been taking my iron pills. The same iron pills that are sitting in the medicine cabinet right next to the face cream I use every morning. I should know better. I've been anemic all my life. All I have to do to build up at least some energy is take my pills a few times a day. (Maybe I was subconsciously sabotaging myself?...)

Anyway - I am trying to get disciplined & on top of a few things:

1 - get this book DONE
2 - get the synopsis for the book DONE
3 - get my blog back on track (and coherent)/get back up to date with the blogs I read (I have to see what the heck y'all been up to!)
4 - get Book III started
5 - finish putting up the pictures and knick-knacks still sitting around the house
6 - find some way to spend more time with the nieces/nephews
7 - start finding somewhere other than WalMart to spend my out-of-the-house time
8 - find TW in Midland
9 - go get fitted for that damn bra before the office ladies run me nuts. (I think they are maybe just a lit-tle bit jealous of my natural hoo-hahs...)

Maybe I should pare the list down a little? Or is that just another form of procrastination? We'll see. I've got my list & I'm going to work on forcing myself to deal with all this stuff. But first, I'm going to go take my iron pill.


"Every action requires action. Action requires motivation. Motivation is all in the attitude." (Free/2006)

Culture and history resources
(esp. see the links under "People" & "Arts&Entertainment"
which is where I found "Writers" and other notables of interest)

"You & I"
Earth, Wind & Fire


Monday, May 15, 2006

Life and Stuff

I celebrated Mother's Day in my own true fashion. Had a great limo ride to the mall with gift certificates for all 12 of us attending. We had a contest: whoever used their certificate to buy the best gift would win another certificate & we only had an hour & a half to shop. The winner would be voted on by us. Sounds all right. It was. I paired up with a fun chick named Michelle (looks like a really cute Britney Spears - if Brit were cute) and we put our certificates together came up with the theme of "Ebony & Ivory" for our gifts. We hit Bath & Body, Victoria's Secret, and Hallmark. We got candles with either black or white in the name or in color (White Pepper & Black Currant candles, white & black thongs, white gift bag with black tissue paper wrap... get it?). We coulda been contenders... We finished early, hit a bar for refreshments, and - that's where we got in trouble.

Michelle is a fun chick. Remember that I told you that, okay? She decides that the wine we had before we left my brother's house & the champagne we had in the ride to the mall were not good enough. Not fun-chick enough. So. Saki Bombers.

I'd never heard of a Saki Bomber & I think I'd only had saki once before in my life (with a LOT of rice and other healthy food already coating my stomach). Michelle - being a fun chick - and me -being stupid, decide to do the Bombers. You fill a tumbler half up with really cold beer, fill a saki cup with really warm saki, and Bombs away! Yeah.

I had four of those before the rest of the women caught up with us and it was time to get back to the rest of our ride. We went to a place called The Cheesecake Factory. I have no idea if they serve cheesecake or if there is indeed a factory around. I walked in feeling fine, joking with the driver (whose name was Jimmy Hendrix, I kid you not) and sneaking out once or twice with another girlfriend for a smoke. I made it for about twenty minutes and went from stone cold sober to completely drunk. I mean, the kind of drunk where I only remember the first few minutes of being drunk.

I woke up at 1:26 in the morning with no idea how I'd gotten home, out of my clothes and in bed. Went to the kitchen for some ginger ale (which sounded like a great idea after I'd almost made myself gag brushing my teeth), got one sip of the ale down & was drunk all over again. I mean, drunk as in having to crawl back to the bedroom.

I woke up at 3-something. Apparently, I'd made it to the foot of the bed & fell asleep propped against the footboard. Felt a little better (just a very little) and made it to the kitchen again. This time, I made some coffee (which sounded like a good idea at the moment), but as soon as I smelled it brewing, I knew it wasn't the best idea. Okay.

Ice chips. Always good, right? Don't they give this to hospital patients? I got me a cup of ice chips and headed to the back porch to sit and have a smoke.

Not good. Apparently (and I remembered this right after I'd had a few ice chips) water only brings a drunk back to drunk.

I crawled (and I do mean, I got on my hands and knees and CRAWLED) off the porch, through the sliding door and into the house. I think I walked some of the way to the bedroom. Made it to the bed this time, and lay there feeling sick as R. Kelly until I must have dozed off.

6 a.m. or so, my sister (who slept through my stumbling/crawling, coffee-making, ice-chip gathering escapades) comes in to sit on my bed.

"How're you feeling?"

I give her the run-down of my escapades. She tells me that my brother had gone to get me and bring me home. He apparently was having a great laugh at my drunkeness & saying how much fun he would have with me at work TUESDAY (since I wasn't looking like a Monday kind of gal at that point)...

"At least you had a good time."

(Was she not paying attention? Well, okay - I DID have a mostly good time.)


"I have bad news."


At this point, I figured I'd had about all the bad news I could take. A look back: My friend's son was killed in a motorcycle accident. My Uncle's wife passed. My cousin's boyfriend passed. And now...

"You Auntie Nita was killed by a drunk driver on her way to work."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

I made phone calls to my Texas and Arkansas family find out about arrangements (for both Uncle's wife & my Auntie Nita). I took a shower, did laundry, laid out something for work for the week. I sat on the porch and smoked way too many cigarettes. I took phone calls from my fellow contestants & put up with the jokes and cracks about being a "lightweight." I filled the birdfeeder & freshened the birdbath. I watered my trees. Smoked some more. Managed to drink O.J. that my older brother brought over for me. I took a nap.

At around 4 o'clock or so, I managed to eat part of an Arby's Market Fresh Turkey sandwhich with some warm boullion. At around five, I called my brothers and told them that I decided I wasn't going to go to either funeral. They & my sister are all talking now about who will be going to represent us.

I almost feel like getting drunk again, but I'm the kind of person - I can't drink at will. That's probably why I'm not an alcoholic. If I were able to just drink to get drunk, I'd do it now while I try to figure out why the drunk driver who killed Nita was driving in the first place. Why couldn't he have called himself a taxi, a friend, or a brother to come and pick him up? I wonder why my uncle's wife was alone when she had her heart attack? Where were her kids? Her friends? My uncle?

I'm such a selfish bitch. This is one of those times when I can't be superchick & I wish I had TW or some man to rescue me from being overwhelmed by life and stuff.


I'm out of excuses & time & putting it off anymore. I have to start my job & I'm kind of glad that I won't have time to think so much.

Peace everybody.


Saturday, May 13, 2006


I miss my mother SO much right now. Tomorrow being Mother's Day & with all these changes happening in my life, I hear Mama's voice in my head all the time, telling me how to deal with everything:

- On handling the TW thing-

"Girl, gone on ahead and call that boy and get it over with. You 'bout to make me nervous with all this silliness!"

"If you don't call him, I will."

-On my housekeeping-

"Don't forget to put a little bleach in that dishwater."

"If you fold your sheets in half, it don't take as long to iron them."

-On work-

"When you're at work, leave your life at home. When you get home, leave your work at the office. Don't nobody at work want to hear about your man, and nobody at home wants to hear about your boss."

-On taking a chance-

"It's all right to be afraid to do something new. Do it it you want, don't if you don't. As long as you never have to say you WISH you hadda done it."

Wow. Mama's still right here with me.
Happy Mother's Day, Tootsie!


Tags: , ,

Monday, May 08, 2006

What You Can Tell

My mother had a thing about people's shoes. She'd say that you could tell a lot about a person by their shoes. It didn't matter whether the shoes were expensive or cheap, leather or plastic. Mama said that if a person cared about their appearance, they made sure their shoes were clean. I guess it didn't matter about scuff marks, etcetera - long as they weren't dusty or muddy. (Mama also said that if a person were careful to wipe their feet or take their shoes off when entering someone's home, that told what they thought about other people.)

I'm not just spitting in the wind with this one, you guys. I have a real point. I was thinking about what you can tell about people from different things & I got to thinking about our "Wish Lists." I started one a while back with Froogle & I was playing around with it a while ago and did some updating. When I looked back over my list, I wondered what someone looking at my list would think about me. Now, I'm curious about other people's lists. There are plenty of things that I would put on a REAL list, but here are some of my general grooves:

  1. Anything by or about Huey Newton and the BPP. I've always had a curiosity about this.
  2. Anything to do with something that smells good. My latest favorites are the scents of Tuberose and chocolate. (I have got to buy me some of that perfume that has the chocolate in it!!!)
  3. Anything to do with soothing looks or sounds. I love those recordings of nature sounds - esp the ocean. Maybe we Cancerians are into that because of our crab natures...
Now - I'm dying to hear back from all of you guys on what would be on your wishlists. Keep in mind - money is no object & you don't have to be completely realistic. I just want to hear what you'd love to have. I know that somebody is going to have the name of a person on their list! (I have a couple of names in mind myself, but decided to stick to possibles!)


Tomorrow I go to work, so this old bumper sticker came to mind --
"I owe, I owe, so off to work I go."
Pretty appropriate with the way I've been spending money!

Yesterday was my late father's birthday. I've got the Temptations "My Girl" on my mind since it's one of the songs Daddy used to sing to me.

Haven't gotten completely back into my net surf groove yet, but I plan to get back to and really work on my Frappr page...

"God invented birds to sing backup for nature." (Free 5/2006)

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Family Photos

All right - finally kinda figured out this uploading of photos...

The top left is of me and my sibs at the family party(Christmas in AZ 2005) & that's me on the left end in the white top and (do NOT talk about me) the blue houseshoes. (Don't ask why I did that... but I WILL say that I had been drinking alcohol & I'm pretty sure I was sort of drunk!)

The bottom photo is of two of my bros - the handsome devils! We were in San Diego for New Year's & I LOVE the sign above their heads. (I have a secret: I love hanging with my big bros cause I feel so safe around them big dudes :-)

I'll have new pics up soon as I get them done.

Special note to my kid Abeni - how you digging your Arizona "Ma" :-)


Words: A shout to my family: "You are everything & everything is you."

Song: "We Are Family" - Sister Sledge


Friday, May 05, 2006

Arizona, Chocolate and Heat

Just this minute got my internet up and running.

It's been such a crazy transition that I spent three hours this morning thinking over what my "new" life here feels like. Since I'm tired, I'll just give a little freestyle rundown & save my usual wordiness for another session. Please forgive the bad writing. I'm so tired that if I weren't so happy about being "connected" again, I wouldn't be writing at all.

Take these thoughts into your hearts and be happy for me.

The heat is both annoying and sensual. Makes me feel like being somewhere cooler, but also makes me feel sweet in my Blackness and makes my skin feel at home. I slink around in the whispers of the sun on my body and just know that my soul was born in a tropical place.

The men are amazing. The smile, stare, flirt and appreciate - not at the chick behind me with blonder hair, lighter skin or different colored eyes - but at me: Black, black, hot, sexy, got-my-hair pulled up, no make-up on, mouth sticky with dark chocolate that I've started "feening" for; skin feeling smoky and smelling like Tuberose oil...

My family is together. I can call them one moment & be with them ten minutes later. We can have lunch and parties and tease each other like when we were kids not separated by life-distance-issues.

My house is more home every moment. I've made friends with the backyard birds, the frontyard neighbors, and I wave to my mailman. I sit on the porch and have thoughts that only writers are able to have when they are in a place that is made for writers.

I am miles from the place that was so "home" to me for so long. I miss it, but I know that the time for being at home in the Land of the Midnight Sun has passed & I am feeling good-anxious-lost/found-renewed and glorious in this new land. The sun has a different attitude here. I have a different attitude. I want to learn how to swim.



Friday, April 28, 2006

Intro to Hell

Got here on Sunday. I'm loving:
  1. The sites
  2. The people
  3. Just being around my family
Trying to get used to:
  1. The heat (was 95 the other day)
  2. The streets (only been lost once)
  3. Sales tax (didn't have those in Anchorage)
The first couple of days, my feeling about the heat was that if God ever decided to send me to Hell, He'd have to invent new heat. Being here when it hit 95 degrees made me feel like I was in Hell 101. After that, I actually stopped sweating like a roasted hog. (It was pretty funny the day that I was all cute in my new shorts, reached up to wipe my forehead & my hand came away white... Sunscreen!)
The new house is ADOR-A-BLE. Small, cozy and the neighbors are great. Met Doug and Linda and was immediately reprimanded for calling them "Mister and Missus." They are just plain Doug and Linda.
Have been busy, busy. Had to do quite a bit of quickie shopping (not including the shorts I bought at Wal-Mart and changed into in the front seat of the car because I couldn't take the jeans and t-shirt I was wearing).
My niece is planning a housewarming. I already picked out the colors for my room and bath: chocolate & camel with deep green accents for the bath; reds, oranges, browns and golds for the bedroom.
I will attempt to post some pics next time, so you can "meet" me and the family. In the meantime, I am back on line sporadically.