Sad (In Real Life)

I feel so sad at this moment, that I am almost physically ill, but I have to write this post. All I have at a time like this are my words. I don't even know if I can get through this post without making myself feel worse, but I'm going to try. This is my memorial to my friend.

I've lost the best friend that I never met in person, but who has been such a big part of my life since just before I got sick. If I had never gotten to know Perry,  I don't think I would ever have gotten as well or have ever been as (mostly) happy as I learned to be. And all I got was a mass email notification of his passing. I keep asking myself if I would feel better right now if he had just disappeared from my life? Then, at least, I could imagine him still here on earth and okay and just on one of his crazy bike trips. Or somewhere doing all the other brave and amazing things he liked to do - things I would never do: snorkeling, skiing, camping in some weird and strange place...

Perry, what will I do without your phone calls and emails and little encouragements? What will I do without knowing that you are somewhere out there in the world, rooting for me and just being there?

Because I never met you "in real life," I don't know what to do with this pain I feel at losing you. You were here and now you're just gone away. I feel cheated.

I have, vaguely, wondered before what happens when people who connect online lose touch. At least I am lucky enough that someone thought to contact me. I don't know. I might have preferred just not knowing.

All day today, when I felt like I was so lost and alone in this world, I kept reaching for my phone to check for a message. From Perry. Every time I thought of something funny, or amazing, or scary - I wanted to tell Perry about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt so brave, coming here to a strange place. I felt like I was on an adventure because that's how Perry encouraged me to look at it all. This morning, I felt a big whole tear right into the bottom of my world. I'm not feeling so brave now. I'm not feeling like I can hear Perry's voice telling me that I can do this.

There is no more Perry on the other end of a phone call or email. There won't be anymore little bits of crazy humor from him to make me laugh. You aren't here to remind me that I am smart (when I feel dumb), or pretty (when I feel horrible), or tell me to get off my pity pot and just be thankful. You aren't here anymore to just help me keep trying to be a better person.

How can you just be so gone away from me?

I now have one friend left that I don't know "in real life" and I'm going to tell her right now and right here how much she means to me. For +Sandy Sandmeyer:

"I love you, Sandy girl! No matter where in this world you are,  and no matter what might happen to either one of us. you must know that."

Because Perry always ended our calls by saying something about taking care of myself or being good to myself, I didn't miss the chance to let him know how much he meant to me. He also liked to end conversations with, "In my heart, Tru." I hope he can still know that, wherever in Heaven he is, he is always in my heart too.

There are a lot of little memories that are going to one day make me smile when I think of Perry but, right now, I can't think of anything except that he's not here. One day, I will write about you but, for now, just rest in peace.

And, for any of you who knew Perry - or who have lost a friend - I'm going to encourage you with what is encouraging me. From 1 Thessalonians 4:13,

But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.

And, because this is my blog and my memorial, I'm going to go ahead and include one of Perry's secretly favorite songs.

Peace
--Free

Alaska Run for Women 2014

Big thanks to everyone who came out for the Alaska Run for Women. So many people, so much love.

Oh, the fun we had...

Team Mike shirts for the guys (6:40AM)

My sis is pretty super! Her nephews know this.

This is gonna be a fave
 pic of me, my sis & my nephew

So many people!

Way more people than it looks like!

A fun group at the starting point
 for the 1 mile part of the  walk

We just finished hearing a beautiful
 version of the National Anthem

LOL! DJ was tired in his
Superman attire

Sandra "Mike" (sis)
said her head was cold. Hahahaha

Our sweet Shavonne in charge of pinning us all

Shavonne & Kenyatta hamming while
Mike, JP & Christine maintain normalcy

I loved the ladies in the tutus!

Our sweetheart Katie with Mike, DJ & JP
Me & Kenny photo-bombing them in background

Mike found out we were
in back joking around

Two of Katie's beautiful co-workers who came out
to offer support & walk with us. Sweetness!!!

DJ "wants & need his Auntie Mike"

Shavonne & the little sweeties
(those 3 young ladies did the 3 minute mile RUN!)

Nice spot for lunch afterwards

Is this not the cutest menu?

And... nourishment!

Um... that's what I call a "super" meal. HUGELY super

DJ & his daddy

Much love to Cherie & Shavonne for staying up all night to put the t-shirts together. One of the reasons our life storms are bearable is because of who we share umbrellas with. We're pretty blessed around here! #familyandfriends

(I'll be adding pics to the post as everyone sends me the ones they took!)

Peace
--Free

On TV Part 1 (My criticisms)

I don't watch TV much. When I do, no one likes watching with me because I am such a critic. Since my family and friends don't want to play, I'll post some of my gripes (and likes) with you guys. (Yeah it's a slow post day for me...)

• Loved "Burn Notice" but hate how writers went too far to promote only the lead character. Mike, Fiona, Jesse and "Mom" were the best parts of the show. (Can't go wrong with "Cagney". Love Ms. Gless!)I hated the way Jesse was announced as "a spy who lost his way" instead of "a spy Mike burned out of his original career path." Also, I found it irritating that Mike was rarely wrong. The actor is probably a really nice guy, but I found myself doing a lot of eye-rolling at his over-played macho-ism.
• Still mad that "Leverage" ended. If show writers copy formats so much, I wish they'd continue the tradition with characters from good shows like this one. Though I'd miss Mr. Hutton, I'd love to see that hunky Aldis Hodge and the spunky Beth Riesgraf as a crime-solving duo. Throw in Christian Kane for some deadpan humor and to keep those other two in line. Matter of fact, it would be great to see Hutton work with Gina Bellman again. I wish I had her speaking voice. Sexy heifer.
• Sebastian Maniscalco's "What's Wrong With People" is one of the few comedy stand-ups that I can watch again, again, again, except I have to rest my abs in between views. I laughed so hard I got laryngitis. Doesn't hurt that Mr. Maniscalco is hot as Sriracha sauce. Nothing like a man with a sense of humor. My favorite part is "Will you look at this shit?" and the teeth-brushing bit. Wish I knew how to make a GIF from Netflix.
• Hate any kind of soap opera. One exception: "General Hospital" back in the Luke and Laura days. Admitting that makes me cringe for a couple of reasons. One, I just dated myself back to the Jurassic era. Two: Laura fell in love with her rapist. Other than GH though, I only looked at soaps (or as my mom called them, her "stories") long enough to mute and change the channel. Okay, I'm lying. I watched enough bits and pieces of soaps to crush on actors like Ed Freeman, Jr, Michael Easton, Shemar Moore, Steve Burton, Henry Simmons and - the one and only reason I ever left work to watch a soap - Darnell Williams. Wow. I didn't just lie, I created a new version of lying, didn't I? I guess all these guys caught my eye while I was muting the TV...
• I can't stand any kind of love scene in TV shows. No one ever wakes up afterwards with effed-up hair (even black women with complicated do's), one titty hanging out of that strategically placed sheet, or sleep in their eyes. In real life, no real lady would just crawl out of a marathon sex romp and leave for work without at least a quick trip to the bathroom. That's only unrealistic, it's downright nasty.
• I'd like to see more shows about people who have real-life problems without the TV-like fixes. Let's see a broke person who doesn't live in a house decorated by Ikea. Better yet, let's see them without a house. I'm still trying to figure out how everybody on "Friends" (which, to be fair, I barely glanced at) was always dressed so great, eating well, and meeting in cafes did all that without being independently wealthy or turning tricks on the side. At least on "Living Single" folks had careers that paid well. I watched that show just to look at Kyle and Max's romance light and burn so hotly. Well, okay - mostly I watched just to look at T.C. Carson, although Max would be my girl crush if I was into chicks.
• I know that everyone hates it when a show is yanked off air without tying up loose ends. I was so pissed off when "Quantum Leap" went off the air that I didn't realize there was a note that Sam never returned home. Other shows that I loved and never saw the ending of: "Nowhere Man" (I just queued all discs via Netflix), "Dead Like Me" (a favorite) and, "Life".  I loved the show "Pramface", but it went off for so long that, by the time it came back on, I'd lost interest. Because I am a little nutsy, I usually just make up endings to these shows for myself. Sometimes, I re-write show in my head as I am watching them on TV. I'm too lazy to pursue screen-writing and too crazy for any of my ideas to work for a general audience anyway. 
• Sometimes, I wonder what ever happened to actors I've seen on the screen. For instance, why the hell did Monica Potter never do much after "Along Came a Spider"? (I actually typed "Kiss the Spider" first!) Was it because she looks more like Julia Roberts that Roberts herself? Talk about doppelgangers... And why do people like have such high profile careers when folks like James McAvoy (from the U.K.'s "Shameless") and the hotness that is Callan Mulvey (from Australia's "Underbelly") are not universal superstars? I just have no idea what's up with that. I also have no idea why guys like Jesse L. Martin and Laz Alonso are not on People's "Hottest" or "Most Beautiful" lists. Meanwhile, Adam Levine is Taye Diggs get so much attention I have to gag.

I better stop now. I see that my critique of TV shows is turning into a fantasy wish list instead. Matter of fact, I'm going to have to do another post just about the people I like from TV shows.

Peace

--Free

Christmas Past

Someone sparked a wonderful discussion over on G-Plus, asking her circle to share their favorite Christmas memories. (Mine was watching my mother decorate the tree, but I have many favorites.) A few of us replying admitted to getting tearing during the chat.

I have some sadness during the holidays, and not just because I've lost some family and friends. It just feels like there was more of a holiday spirit all through the year.

Remember when we made more time to enjoy our family and friends more often? A lot of us can recall a time when we gathered at somebody's home more often than on holidays. For my family, it was my mother's house. At any time of day, someone was dropping in. During the week, it was after work. Maybe one of the many folks who called my mother "Mom" would have stopped off on their way home. They'd come in "just for a minute" and end up staying to help Mom with something - say, reach something off a high shelf - and then they'd end up helping her finish "picking" greens for dinner. Or she'd have them sit and have coffee with her and watch the news or catch up on their life news.

After work, I'd go in to see my mother and she'd have two people watching TV in the living room, someone bringing up the the laundry from downstairs, and someone stirring whatever was cooking on the stove. By dinnertime, we could have five to ten us us setting us TV trays and fighting over who was going to leave their plate to get rolls out of the oven. My mother would be watching over us, like the contented grand dame she was.

On weekends, with all us siblings (blood- or love-related), our kids, their friends, Mama's friends - whoever we had gathered into our clan - the driveway looked like Walmart's on Black Friday.

There was never a week that passed without some kind of "company" being around my mother's home. I didn't have five siblings and one living parent, I had love flowing from hundreds of people into my life.

Ironically, it was Christmas that gave me time with just blood family. Well, Christmas Eve. The night before Christmas was traditionally a family-only event. Still, if my mother had taken in someone for a while, they were included. And my mother took in people who needed to be taken in. If someone living far from their own family ran into my mother (with 2 military bases here, that happened a lot), they were going to be part of her family if that's what they needed.

This was one Christmas Eve with just some of the kids that year...

Mama is the little dark lady surrounded by just some of her babies." This us the year before she passed away.

Christmas Eve, the kids (little ones and grown ones!) got to open one present. Mama picked the present.  She had the mind of Sherlock when it came to her tree. If any of the kids touched a single ornament, gift or candy cane, she knew.

For me, whatever year this photo is from, it's when I got one of the pearl rings my mother always got me. Not because of the gift, but because of Mama, I haven't had a Christmas so happy since. I think I was about 36 or 37 at the time. It was a Christmas or two before Mama died.

Check out the tree behind me. Every ornament just so!

So, really, Christmas was almost like any other day in Mama's house. Throw in some gifts and a turkey dinner, any day could be Christmas.

I don't think that my family was unique as far as spending time together.

What's happened to us? What happened to making time for each other? Why does it take a designated day for us to put away our computers and briefcases and cellphones and actually relate to each other?

How does the saying go: "Tis the reason for the season"? So why does the season have to be the reason. Why does Christmas have to be the day for family and showing our love and gratitude for each other?

Peace,
--Free

Having a Fit, Living Fit

Your girl here has been trying hard to stay on the path of healthy living. Summer is here - even though no one has told the weather that - and there are no more excuses for me not to work out more. There are no more great piles of snow in the parking lot or slick side roads. And I'm back driving, so... As I proclaimed on G+ the other day, "I got a belly roll, belly roll, so off to the gym I go, to the gym I go." I do amuse my simple self at times.

I have been dared - no, double dog dared - to put up before and after pics. Ha! If I still looked like the blueberry gal from Willy Wonka, I'd be able to show an impressive "after" photo. But I look way better than that, so... Pics coming soon, so keep your eye on this space.

Some folks I know have asked what I am doing to get my skin and body back into shape. You do know that gaining and then losing a lot of weight puts your skin through its paces, right? You know now.

As I've done since I've been dressing myself, I've been using any and every moisturizer I can afford. I am in love with the Gene's Creme I told you about before and I still use it on my feet at bedtime. Now I am into coconut oil (organic, un-refined) because it's so versatile. I use it top to bottom - literally. I use it under any makeup and then to take off the makeup. It goes on my hair, my face, body and feet. It doesn't leave a greasy feel so I can use it without staining my clothes. (Ladies, it can even be used in the bedroom, and  I'm not talking about getting dressed.) I even have been substituting it at times for butter on my hot cereals. I really don't want you to lose your mind when I tell you I have been adding a touch of it to my morning coffee. I got started with it because of this chick here. After using it for a couple of weeks, I noticed that it works. Now, after about a month, I walk around soft as a baby's hind parts and smelling like something sweet and tropical.

Of course, I am still NOT smoking! (Yay, me.) I am keeping up with the gym visits. I don't go and stay for hours, but I get in there and do my circuit of 15 minutes on treadmill, elliptical and/or bike and the damn ab machines. I'm starting to hate this one ab machine, but she's the piece of metal trickery that's going to help me get into my skinny jeans! My big goal is to do last 30 minutes on an elliptical. There's one lady at the gym who looks to be about 70 years old. She does nothing but the elliptical the whole time I'm there. I was dripping a river of sweat after 5 minutes and she was watching the news while doing a couple minutes forward, a couple backwards. Switching it up like a boxer skipping rope. True story.

In addition to the outer body care, I've been paying attention to my insides. I'm giving the Activia thing a try. It's only been about 4 days, so I will report back later if I remember to. I'm drinking tons of water. I think the biggest positive (meaning fun and healthy) new thing I'm doing is using yogurt in more of my cooking. And trying new things in the kitchen. With food, people. Get my mind out of your gutter!

BzzAgent sent me coupons to try Fage yogurt for free. I did. I love it. I'm not crazy about plain yogurt, but I wanted to skip the fruit-flavored for something I could incorporate into actual meals. I have tried substituting the Fage for sour cream on food (yum-yum) and I added it to a cake I made. The cake was amazingly moist - and I'm sorry for sounding like a bad commercial, but it's the truth. After I tasted my "sample" cake, I decided to add some Fage to the store-bought chocolate frosting. Oh, good mercy! That was the best idea ever. I hate how sickly-sweet canned frosting sometimes are. The yogurt added a really creamy texture and such a nice tang to the frosting. The best of all: I doubled my frosting. I've refrigerated it and have been dipping fruit and cookies into it. I have to pat myself on the back for that idea! The Activia is fine for my snack, but I don't think I will be using any other yogurt from now on for my kitchen other than Fage.

Now, the best advice I can give for anyone going through the whole it's-a-life-change-not-a-diet thing is to put a really good friend to full use. In my case, it's a guy I bonded with online right after I first got sick. P.D. lives about as far away from me as you can get, but he's become a sort of long-distance platonic lover. I adore him because he is so freaking honest. Brutal, at times. He's lucky he lives on another continent, else I'd get to him and kill him in his sleep two or three times a month. My point, though, is: get someone like P.D. in your life. P.D. encourages me to do a little better every day. He calls to see if I made it to the gym or if I am eating right. That kind of a friend would be known as a nag if it weren't for the fact that he's so happy for the most minor positive thing I manage to do. Having a guy-friend is better when you are dieting; they aren't competing with you like your gal-friends.

Yeah, so, get a P.D. in your life or at least get a mindset of "I can do this,"and you will be on your way. Be your own cheerleader and coach. Right now, I have a pair of my pre-sick favorite jeans hanging on the wall next to my closet. About every other week, I can get those bitches pulled up a little farther. I can't wait for the day I can get them on without removing a rib.

I hope that you manage to find your motivation.

Meantime, here are a couple of sites I like for the information:

• Rodale
• Fitnea
• Care 2 (under health & wellness and green-living)

Welp! I am off to the gym.

Peace

--Free

Entertaining Angels

An online life is a lot like a "real world" life. You meet good people, bad people, sweethearts and con-men, the amazing and the dangerous. I've been lucky in the folks I've met here.

Years ago, when I first started using a computer for more than keeping records and budgets and working from home, I met a man who is still a friend to this day. I was trying to untangle my genealogical tree that grew in some Rube Goldberg-invented forest. Drew helped teach me to sort through branches that had been tossed all over history. It was fun and I learned a lot. Never did untangle our family tree, but...

Since meeting Drew, I've met probably 8 or 9 people who really have made differences - good or bad - in my day-to-day life. Because of them, I've learned things - whether I agree with what I learn or not. They have given me new ways of looking at parts of life I am familiar with, and have shined a light into corners I never knew were there. I "know" people I have never met who teach me, encourage me and tell me the truth about myself. They share their wisdom and insight and point of view.

My mother always loved this verse from the Bible:

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. (Hebrews 13:2)

Like with so many things, the older I get, the more I understand of what my mother tried to teach me. Ten years ago, I didn't really understand what she was talking about when she tried to explain why it's important to open your heart to people. I understand it now. She wasn't talking about what I could do for them, she was trying to teach me what they could do for me.

This might be a physics thing, but I heard something interesting once about our individual impact on existence. Not any one of us can come into another person's life without having some sort of influence - minor or major. It's like touching the surface of a pond and starting a ripple. I find that very fascinating to think about.

I am not always a good person. I can be very selfish and vain and foul-mouthed and childish. For as flawed as I am, though, I have been lucky to "entertain" some really special people who happened to come into my orbit. (See? Modest too!)

Thanks, +Drew Williams +Sandy Sandmeyer +Alex Taller +Julia Hawkins

I don't mean, "Thank you" in a random, I-was-feeling-emotional-today kind of way. I mean, "Thank you," seriously. If I never hear from any of you ever again, you have started ripples somewhere on my mind or heart. That's a little corny, but I mean it.

There's more I could say about you guys, but, hey - the internet is only so big. I don't want my blog to use up all the room!

Peace
--Free

Friend Power

My sister-friend (what I call one of my very best friends) called me last night. She knows what all I've been dealing with recently. Because she loves me, she doesn't get tired of my crazy moods and emotions. Well, so far she hasn't.

One sign of a good friend is that they can make you laugh when you haven't even been able to smile. This is one of the reasons I love this chick so much. Last night, she made me laugh so hard that, for a minute, I forgot to feel bad.

If you ever watched the show "Everybody Loves Raymond," you probably fell in love with the wife, "Debra." My friend reminded me of one of our favorite "Debra" moments. It's when Raymond spies on his wife and sees her listening to sad music and crying. When he finds out that it's something she does on purpose - to relieve stress and make herself feel better - he is puzzled.

For me and my friend, the funny part is not what Debra does (we call it emotional masturbation), but that Raymond is so mystified. He then tries to imitate his wife.  That is the power of womanhood, you know, that men find us so complex. In honor of one of our all-time favorite shows, and to make me laugh, my friend sent me the link to the following:

I laughed and got through a tough moment. Things haven't gotten any easier, but I'm still smiling. That's what good friends are for.

Thanks, "B.B." You did that for me. This one is for you:

(I didn't cuss!)

Peace
--Free

Powered Down

We are recovering from windstorms that knocked out power for three days. No lights and no electronics. Three days. I have learned things about myself.

• I don't like camping - not outside, not in the house, not even at the best place in the world - if it doesn't involve all my comforts. 
• One of my comforts is hot coffee two seconds after I roll out of bed.
• Another of my comforts is turning on my laptop two seconds after my first sip of coffee.
• I hate messing with propane and "campstoves" to make my coffee. (Scratch that. I hate messing with propane and campstoves.)
• It takes about ten years to make a pot of coffee on a campstove. It's like trying to make lava with a match.
• Toddlers and new puppies are tough to entertain when you are cranky.
• Toddlers don't know their own strength.
• Puppies don't know to run like hell when they see Pebbles or Bam-Bam coming.
• This is the puppy 

• This is the puppy cornered by Bam-Bam

• Even when there is a power outage, I will hit a light switch every time I walk into a room. Every. Time.
• My family can only take about 3 hours and 22 minutes of me being cranky. 
• I have the most awesome best friend. She came over and picked me up for lunch just to get me out of the house. And because my sister called her and said, "Come get her before we kill her."
• The House of Bread is the best (and I mean the BEST) neighborhood hangout. Their fresh breads and sandwiches will substitute for Prozac any day. 
• Fox News had better news coverage of the storm than our local paper.
• I hate Fox News.
• Give men control over the generator during an outage and they make sure to hook up the freezer, fridge and TV. I'm not kidding. Because the Cowboys are playing. I'm really not kidding.
• Families grow closer during power outages in Alaska. We have to keep warm somehow. 

Peace

--Free

Translate This

Boy, I needed a good laugh and I got one day before yesterday.

My girlfriend drove me over to the Walmart pharmacy. We saw a commotion and, of course, we rubbernecked like crazy. There were quite a few folks trying to see what was happening. There were a few  police cars blocking off half the parking lot, the store manangers blocked the entrance closest to the happenings... it was crazy. Mostly, I was annoyed as hell that we had to go all out of the way to do what we needed.

A couple of nice looking fellows were stuck same as my girlfriend and I, trying to get back out to the parking lot. One of them said something to my friend and she almost fainted because he had an accent. French, I think. He and his friend seemed nice, kind of shaking their heads and hoping that all was okay.

Now, I am wary of men with accents. I am not into looks or money so much. Intelligence, kindness, sweetness and maybe a little swagger... That rocks me. An non-American accent will just do me in. Accents are sexy. I watch out for that because I married a man once and I am pretty sure the accent did something to my hormones. If he'd been from Tuscon, I might have dated him without going into heat. My crazy girlfriend just loves an accent. She once dated a guy for six months that she didn't even like because he had some kind of islander accent. This was around the time of Stella getting her groove back. I'm not even sure if my friend liked this guy enough to give her groove away. They talked on the phone a lot. Whatever.

My friend tends to stereotype situations and has no qualms about using friends as bait. As her black friend, I'm her magnet for guys with a Euro accent. We have another friend who has a body that's a freaking siren call for guys with any kind of "Island" accent. (We are all still shameless flirts. You get better at it with age.) Lately though, I'm not feeling cute. I don't even feel sociable. This didn't stop my friend from flirting her ass off with the guys at the store. (I need to talk with her about our age and the need for some mature dignity.)

So, there I am, nauseous, sweating and just wanting to get back in the truck where there is air conditioning. My friend is batting her eyes and chatting away with her new buddies. (I also need to talk to her about how silly the whole eye-battng thing s for a woman anywhere past high school. And, for us, high school is a really dim memory.)

Anyway, I finally tear the BFF away by  threatening to either faint or throw up. As we are walking off, the two guys start speaking, yeah, French. My friend, who has no self-esteem issues, wanted to believe they were being complimentary. Maybe. I couldn't help pointing out to her that the problem with hitting on foreign men is that they could be saying anything.

"Girl, they are checking out my ass and you know this."

We get home and, because my friend is a great friend, she sticks around to watch TV, help me cut my hair (again), try to fix food I might want to eat, etc. It wasn't until a few hours later that my sister noticed something on the butt of my friend's shorts.

"B____, how the hell do you have a bicycle tire mark on your behind?"

I don't think I even want to guess at how it happened, but, sure enough, my friend had a perfect tire mark right across the back of her pink shorts.

How the hell, right?

Anyway, I had such fun freaking her out with what those French dudes might have been saying. At least they probably really were checking out her ass.

Seriously, how did she get a tire mark on her ass?

Peace
--Free

P.S.: Number One - Typing this on a tablet (cos I had another PC mishap) so I hope it is readable. Number Two - Had to change my cell number after YEARS because of the stalker who is my ex; if I haven't sent you the new number, hit me via email.

My Inner Child Escaped

I saw a G+ pal's tagline of "World's oldest living child" and I am stealing it. My "inner" child has always preferred the out of doors and yesterday it was in full swing.

My girlfriend and I had a sort of double date for coffee and pastries. My girlfriend's date was a local guy she'd only recently met and really hit it off with. They would only have a small amount of time to hook up before she'd be leaving town. I was kind of hoping things would work out with them because, as a couple, they'd be a little like my guy friend and me. My guy is in and out of town for work, and spends a ton of his time Stateside. I like the arrangement since I don't do those clingy relationships, where he's breathing in my face every moment. Been there and done that with Crazy Man.

We were drinking our coffee out of actual ceramic mugs (instead of the usual paper contraptions) and my girlfriend, who is fidgety, kept tapping her spoon against the side of her mug. She was a little pissed off and embarrassed that her date was not there and the more irritated she became, the more she fidgeted, tapping the hell out of her cup. My friend (who is always on time, by the way, and is never mad when I am late - or even the time I showed up at the wrong damn place) was trying to be the gentleman and keep my girlfriend feeling included. He asked about her latest project (she's a singer out of Portland and is working on some new songs) and praised a performance of hers that he'd caught some months ago. I am a woman, so I kept telling her how great I thought her new boobs looked. (Not that I believe in surgery for something so unnecessary, but, hey.) I think the compliments on her boobs were working, but then, boy-oh-boy-oh-boy - her date called and cancelled. He should have called way earlier if he wanted to be polite.

Let me say that my girlfriend can not only out-cuss me, but she's a whole lot less picky about where she'll let loose with the language. I am still Pentacostal and mama-raised enough not to cuss in public. But, oh, good mercy, my friend let it rip. Before she hung up her phone, I think her poor "date" had been renamed in Greek, Latin and Ebonics. That shit was almost funny, except I felt bad for the guy. Plus I was embarrassed as hell about all the cussing. I tried my damndest to slink down into a crack of my chair. My guy friend handled it by talking really quietly to my girlfriend. I guess that's the trick about people mirroring your behavior. Whatever. All I know is he got the heffa to shut the hell up.

I embarrass very easily and I'm already in early menopause, so right there in the middle of a busy coffee shop, I bet I sweated off about ten pounds. But what happened to my girlfriend after her little rant would have crippled me emotionally for life.

When she quit cussing and being so freaking loud and country, she went back to doing that spoon-tapping thing on the cup. She was tapping so fast it looked like her hand was vibrating. I don't know if it was how hard she hit the cup or if she'd just already cracked it, but the cup just suddenly shattered. Coffee went everywhere - all over her, the table, the floor.  And, the natural reaction to something like that is for a person to jump out of the way or scoot back, right? I jumped up, my guy friend reached over to grab his phone off the table, and my girlfriend scooted back. Except her chair didn't scoot with her.

Oh my good happy hell. I have no idea how it happened just from trying to scoot back, but my friend's chair tipped back and she ended up (just for a couple of seconds) like a lyric out of that dirty rap song. I forget the name of the group, but the lyrics were something like "Face down, ass up."

I am so wrong, yes, I know this, but damnit, I laughed so hard I just about threw up. What made it all even funnier is the trouble she had getting herself righted. After falling backwards in a chair - with some of your long hair getting stuck under the chair - there is just no graceful way in this world to roll over, get on your knees and stand up. I don't care how many other people run over to help out.

I told you guys that I've been depressed lately. Well, let me tell you what: I am freaking cured. I still at this moment cannot think about what happened without laughing.

Yes, I should be ashamed of myself because it was horrible. My friend was so embarrassed, but in that way where instead of acting shamed, she acted more pissed off. It never helps when something like that happens and people run around trying to help you. It all just makes you feel more embarrassed. Probably didn't help my girlfriend out that her maniac friend (me) was crying laughing. I think I was a little bit hysterical or out of control. I just could not stop laughing. I swear, it's this fucking menopause.

Anyway, we managed to get out of there without causing anymore damage. My guy friend told me later that it wasn't very cool of me to laugh so hard about it, but that at least I tried not to be loud. (He can kiss my ass because I saw him about to choke trying not to laugh.) My girlfriend is not mad at me, believe it or not. She jokes that she is glad she made me laugh. She is either super-cool and belongs in the BFF club or she is just waiting to get back home and poke holes in a little black doll named Trudy.

So, yeah, I guess I am still a little childish. Don't judge me; you'd be laughing too.

Peace
--Free

Waiting On The World To Change

Was on one of those loooong phone calls with a BFF tonight. She's going through some changes and it seems like every part of her life is in turmoil: man, money, mood. She called because she was pretty pissed off at a particular person and needed to vent. Says she's just sick to death of people.

I wanted to laugh, but I get it. I really do. People are so in-focused these days that I wonder if they realize they share a planet with others.

T was telling me that she had a great comeback for the person on her shit list. Something along the lines of, "Gee, let's see - I'm behind on my mortgage, my kid just got into some more trouble, I'm about to lose the guy I like a lot. Now you - you're way young, got a great career, you're kind of gorgeous, but because you can't buy this new outfit you want, I need to stop and rub your boo-boo? Um, excuse me, but what part of your world do I pay rent in?"

Man, I wanted to stand up and applaud! That is a classic mammy-made rant right there. I swear I'm stealing it to use the next time I get the chance. LOL I am just waiting for the right moment!

Now, please understand something - I can be kind of a petty person, but my friend T is probably the sweetest person I have ever known. This is a chick who actually and truly (I've seen it with my own eyes) prays on the spot for people who are rude to her. Well, I guess even a saint has a breaking point.

Of course, about three minutes after T finished her rant, she was reminding herself to chill out. (Me, ever the little imp, was egging her on. I wanted to hear some more good stuff like that comeback of hers! LOL)

But T is right, Another friend and I were talking recently about how it seems  that the ruder and more of an asshole a person is, the more respect they seem to get from others. When someone is nice, people tend to wonder why. When someone is a jerk, people think of them as someone who gets things done and gets things said. Everyone says the most admiring things about a particular jerk I know. "Boy, he really tells it like it is!" and "He's so fearless." Somehow people think that you have to be rude to be honest and brave. I'm waiting for the day this guy gets a little "honest" with the wrong person and gets his ass kicked. Thing is, he knows who to mess with and who not to. Trust that.

So, yeah, T and I had one of our marathon calls where we had to keep plugging in our phones to charge. We haven't done that in a while, but she had so much frustration to get out of her system. She'll probably be able to sleep pretty good now. Not me. I've had 2 cups of coffee and now that I'm off the phone, I have that song by John Mayer on repeat in my head: "Waiting On The World To Change." I don't think T cares if the world changes as long as a few people would.  I think a lot of us would settle for that.

Peace
--Free

To Parents

How ridiculous is it that I know someone (either personally, very personally or by some association) who, in the past 2 1/2 to 3 months who:

• Has committed suicide
• Had a friend/family member commit suicide
• Has attempted suicide (more than once in one case)
• Has a child with severe problems 

What's in common in all this (other than the obvious) is that these people felt that they couldn't talk to their parents (or, in one case, couldn't talk to their kids, I guess).

I'm not the most emotionally stable person in a crowd of millions, Lord knows. I've had some rocky times, especially in these last several years. What I do have is someone to talk to. Some things I can talk to my sister about, some things I talk only to one or two of my BFFs about. There are some people I can't bring myself to talk to - not about anything deep or seriously personal or troubling. But I have had someone.

Right now, I know of one young person who is dealing with some very sad and depressing feelings. She has support. I know of about 4 young people who are dealing with just the everyday worries and struggles that come with life. What breaks my heart is that they feel they cannot talk to their parents. That puts the other people they can talk to in a strange position.

I was very lucky growing up. There was nothing I couldn't talk to my mother about. I don't mean that I had no problem in telling her every and anything, but if I had a serious problem - one that affected my emotions or mental state - I could go to my mother. Her love for me was greater than any shame I might feel. Thank God, thank God.  Of course I was embarrassed to talk about some things, but she somehow made it okay for me to deal with that hesitation. (It wasn't like we didn't have the awkward "Mom, do you ever have that not so fresh feeling?" moments. By the way, I always thought that was the stupidest commercial ever made...)

I believe that adults sometimes forget that kids have problems that are serious to them. We have to deal with things like bills, mortgages, college funds, putting up with bosses, spouses or jobs we loathe and other crap. A kid having a first-love fall apart or not being liked by classmates, failing a school subject, worrying about their looks, their smell, their personality, what to do after high school or college - whatever it is kids worry about might not seem like a big deal to us. I think we forget that to a young person the things they worry about weigh on them as heavy as the things we worry about. A burden is burden when you are the one carrying it, no matter how old you are.

The reason I worry about some of the young people I know is because I have personally had more than one of them tell me that they don't like talking to their parents. That scares me. I usually say something to the parents, but in some cases that's no big help. 

One parent I know very well, probably doesn't think this is a big deal, but he has a personality flaw. He's just one of these people who (intelligent as he is) has a huff-and-puff impatience that permeates every pore of his being. I can't imagine his child being comfortable talking to him. I just don't see it. This parent is one of those people who seems to feel that what he can do and be, anyone can do and be. In his mind, here are no barriers to achievement of anything. This is a great attitude. For him. It's served him well. But, good God in Heaven, his kids feel so unable to live up to his expectations. And they don't feel they can talk to him.

This particular young person I know told me about a pretty minor little problem he is having. He isn't sure about a decision he needs to make. I told him to see what his mom and dad thought. His answer to that is what made me write this post. He said, "My folks? You're kidding, right?" And he laughed, but it was the least funniest thing to be said. 

Parents - or whoever you are to a young person - please, please, please open your eyes, ears and hearts. Listen to your kids. Let them know there is nothing they can tell you that will make you not love them or want the best for them. 

My mother was one of those people who knew her kids. A lot of times when I needed her, I didn't even have to open my mouth. She knew me and loved me. She could take my emotional temperature just by thinking about me. Maybe that's a gift some parents have. I don't know, but I think that you can learn to be better in parenting.

I'm so tired of hearing about babies killing themselves or not reaching their potential just because no one heard them.

Peace

--Free

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...

Peace
--Free

Words:
"Good neighbors share more than property lines!"

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

Music:

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???

Tags:

Neighbors
Moving
Memorial Day

Mammy-made Rant (Pt I)

Get your snacks, y'all. This is going to be a loooong one.

I had a little bit of a falling out with a friend. When I decided to do a blog, it was because I thought it would be a cool way to document this journey of mine into the new life I'm headed for. It's been even better than I thought. Since I get to let out all my wandering little thoughts, worries & stress moments in writing, I don't talk to myself as much as I used to. That helps cut back on the nervous stares of fellow Walmart shoppers. (I still hear some of the little voices in my head, but only the nice ones.)

Anyway, I'm a true techno-dummy & I was pretty proud that I was going to be blogging. (By the way, I'm still trying to get the hang of some things here, so everybody please be patient - or throw some useful tips my way!)

When I got my blog account all set up, I called my friend to let her know about Being Free (the blog), just like I have called her about Being Free! (the state of mind). She sounded a lit-tle bit skeptical. Until I quit the job a while back, my friend & I had worked together for almost 13 years. When she didn't throw a party at the news of my blog, I assumed she was remembering the times when, just by sitting down near a company PC, I could make grown Tech Support guys weep with frustration. (Those techies actually assigned a code name to me - you know, like the Secret Service does for POTUS & family. My name wasn't anything as cute as what first ladies get. Mine was "Target" - as in: "Guys, get ready to cover the HR Department. Target is logging on to Unit 1 in Station 4.") Yeah. It was kind of embarrassing that I could crash a PC just by opening Excel... Otherwise, I was so good at my job that, instead of being fired, I was given an assistant who handled all work on the PC. (The Techs started sending her roses once a week.)

But back to my GWA (Girlfriend With Attitude). It turns out that her concern was not that I would accidentally do something to crash the World Wide Web (is that even possible? Please god, tell me it's not), but that I would infect the web community with what she has the nerve to call my "old-fashioned, mammy-made values." Yeah - she actually said "mammy-made." Talk about showing her age. Old country-assed heifer...

"Now, girl, don't take this the wrong," she told me. "But..."

Pause that. You just know that when somebody says "don't take this the wrong way," they're about to tell you something that's going to make you mad no matter how you take it. And then, you notice, they always add the "but."

"But, Free, much as I love you girl, you know you got some strange ways of thinking when it comes to..."

I tuned out. I'd already heard GWA give this little speech many times over the years. She and I are roughly the same age & we had both his the court system around the same time to take back our maiden names. After divorcing my husband, I took a year off, but GWA had hooked up with a man she met in the courthouse elevator. Basically, she & I have really different ideas about relationships & socializing.

I let GWA finish her little speech about how since we're now in a dating pool with "younger fish," we have to "change our stroke. " Usually, I let GWA have her say & just be done. I always felt so guilty for my "old-fashioned" values that I could never take a stand about them. This time, though, some of my "mammy-made" southern girl fire flared up & I decided to stand hard & have my say.

"You always say I'm old-fashioned - like it's a nasty rash or something. I guess I got "funny ways" just because my idea of romance doesn't involve getting hot over some old-ass fool in a club who's trying to look 10 years younger & talk to me like we'll be sharing pillows in the morning." I said this all without taking even a little breath. Anger gives you strength. When I did take a breath, GWA tried to get a word in.

"Girl, I didn't-"

I cut her off because I was on a roll & my neck was working with it. "Yes, you did," I told her. Then I mumbled too much like I remember my grandma doing, "Just cause I like knowing what a man things about the economy, the war & the way his mama raised him before I know what he thinks about the beauty mark on my thigh..."

"Dang, Free. You ain't got to trip."

"Oh, yes I do. When good brothers & sisters out here got to wade through all the thugs & hoes just to try to find each other. Yeah, I am going to trip."

"I know you ain't calling me a-"

"I did not start the name-calling," I said. (And yeah, I did sound like I was six.) "I'm too old-fashioned for that."

There was this real long silence while GWA tried to decide whether ot not she had a right to be offended. Finally, she laughed in that silly way that some young dude told her was "cute" and said, "Aw, girl. You know I love you. You and your funny ways."

Yeah. Me & my funny ways.

- to be continued -

Oh, yeah - and I bet you thought I forgot this: My words for today --

"Nothing is as complex as the mind a woman - except the mind of a woman in love."

(Free 12/2005)

Song I'm listening to: "I Wanna Thank You" by Maze f/Frankie Beverly

Romance - It ain't for everybody

I already told you about my adventure with a younger man, right? Well, I was talking about it all with a friend after I did that post. I complained to her about Mr. Nintendo (aka: the "game man"), and she said she could top my story with one of her own. Where my man (not) was into games, hers was the opposite. Waaaaaaaay opposite.

My friend (let's call her "Rose") had a man in her life who was around her age (so no generation gap excuses) who not only wasn't into games of the romantic-playful-freaky kind, but was also kind of a bedroom cheapskate. Rose said his idea of being romantic was waking her up before sex. Now, Rose is a Danielle Steele-reading kind of woman. She lives for those "special moments" in a relationship. If a man cleaned out her bank account, charged up her credit cards & wiped Cheeto stains on her sheets before he dumped her, all he'd have to do to be forgiven is surprise her with a day-old rose from the supermarket. (Maybe it's a good thing I'm not using her real name. I can almost hear some men out there ready to Google for her location!)
Anyway, for whatever reason, Rose really liked this romance-impaired loser. I think it was his teeth that turned her on (the man had some beautiful teeth, y'all). At any rate, Rose decided that she must be the problem & she needed to take more initiative in putting a little romance into this relationship. She went out & bought some, uh, goodies & then invited him over for a special evening. They had a nice dinner that she made (I'm talking stuff right out of a Martha Stewart cookbook, not that throw-it-together-right-out-of-the-box crap.) After dinner, she ran him a bath - with potions and oils and the Scent Stories going on and everything. Once she'd bathed his rusty butt, she took him to the bedroom and put on some mood music (meaning Marvin Gaye & Patti LaBelle - not somebody singing about popping and coochies). While she had him relaxing on her clean& perfumed sheets, she got out the little tray of "goodies": silk scarves & some strawberries, whipped cream, champagne & melted chocolate... You're getting the picture, right? Her plan - straight out of an advice mag - was that they would take turns blindfolding each other & having a creative taste test. I am not this creative or energetic when it comes to romance. I mean, it shouldn't take all this. (But I did tell you that Rose is a romantic? Girl been reading all them Cosmo articles & such...)
So, what happens? Do Rose & her man have a nice evening, deepening their relationship & becoming closer? Not even close.

First of all, by the time Rose got everything ready, Mr. Love Machine had fallen asleep & Rose had to wipe drool off his mouth. Next, he saw the edibles & started scarfing down the strawberries, talking about "that fancy dinner of yours wouldn't feed a two-year old." When Rose explained that she'd had something a little more sensual planned for the goodies, his eyes bugged. He said, "We gone waste good food on that? Girl, I ain't licking no chocolate off ya cha-chas when I can use it on some of that ice cream you hiding from yourself in the back of the freezer."

Rose - a trouper, yes she is - tried to tantalize him back into the romantic moment by saying how they could tie each other up if he wanted. Wrong move. Mister almost hurt himself getting out of bed & finding his clothes. "Aw, hell naw," he told her. "A woman tie you up, she liable to bust you with some hot grits or trim your Yankee. Just ask Al Green."

Rose said he left so fast he almost didn't have time to grab the rest of the strawberries.

Romance. It ain't for everybody.


**Disclaimer: Not only have some of the names been changed, but so have some of the facts. It wouldn't be as funny a story without a little embellishment!**


My word for the day is a little bit weak ("Bad days are like rainy ones - necessary every now & then"), so I'll toss in a little list of some songs I'm listening to for the day:

* "In The Deep" (Bird York)
** "Woman 2 Woman" (Jaguar Wright)
*** "Even If" (Amel Larrieux)