Life in the Sidebar: Archived Re-posts 1

Like I mentioned in the last post, I've gone through some changes as a blogger. My life has been through a lot of changes so, of course, my blogging style has changed. Here's the thing: I think I was a better blogger when I first started. I was more spontaneous and honest. Since those first good days, I've become more self-conscious and long-winded. I have to get back to the best part of me!

Hereare some of my favorite posts from ago...

• Bad Girl Karma
• What is Wrong With Folk?
• If You 'Country' and You Know It
• The Devil Is a Liar
• Memory Storm
• Handbasket Reservations
• Lessons Learned Watching "Haunted"
• I'm So Busted
• Mammy-made Rant Part 1 and Part 2
• Arizona's About to Piss Me OFF
• Life and Stuff
• I Got Told

For some reason, readers really loved a couple of post A LOT. One of them is the Devil Is a Liar post (my fave), and the other was one on Bailey Quarters (you know, from WKRP?) Wow. That one surprised me. 

What I have learned from looking back over my old posts these last few days is...

1. I need to get back to basics when it comes to blogging and leave the weighty stuff for the books.
2. I need to start having fun again with the blog.
3. I want to start connecting with other bloggers the way I used to.

Actually, I am thinking of leaving this blog as is (for the reviews that I do), and doing a FreeBeingFree revamp for everything else. I'm kind of undecided as of yet but, when I've made up my mind, y'all will be the first to know.

Peace

--Free

Life in the Sidebar (Part 3)

One of the sidebar items I think most people overlook is the Blog Archive listing. That's a shame because that's like a blogger's personal Wayback Machine. Every now and then, I look over some of my own older posts and I realize that the archive is a timeline of my life changes.

In prep for doing this series of posts, I glanced through some of my earlier ones. What I realize is that I was a better blogger when I wasn't trying so hard. Starting out, I wasn't really thinking about writing for anyone but myself. I need to get back to that. My older posts were funnier and more 'real'.

For people who do read my blog on a regular basis now, I think they would like the 'old' me. After I finish this Sidebar series, I'm going to literally copy/paste some of my favorite posts from the past.

If any of you do go back and check through the Archives, I'd love to know what you think about the way I used to write compared to now. For myself, the main thing I noticed is that (like everybody does), I've gone through stages that affect my attitude, outlook, and joy.

When I first started blogging - 11 years ago! -  I talked more about relationships and family. I guess that's because I was more interested in having a relationship back then. WAY back then (when I was ~gasp~ 45!), and I hadn't lost so many members of my family.

I did a lazy search and found out (on another blog, of course) that the average lifespan of a blog is around 100 days. I don't know how true that is. I told you I did a lazy search! But I know that most of the bloggers I started out following have since gone away. That's sad. I really, really loved a lot of blogs that are defunct now. I always wonder what happened to the blogger. Maybe they moved on to bigger projects? Only some of them still have Blogger profiles up. (When I looked up an old fave called The Brutha Code, all I could find was a page all in Japanese...??? So, WHERE are you, Brutha?)

I guess I should feel like a blogosphere survivor.

Anyway, if you get a chance, click back through the Archives. Like I said, I'll be re-posting some favorites soon.

Peace
Free

Life in the Sidebar (Part 1)

One of my blog readers emailed me recently to ask about the items in my sidebar.

Wow.

First of all, I was shocked that someone actually paid attention to the sidebar. Amazing. When I read someones blog, the sidebar is the first (or second) thing I check out. That's where I usually learn more about the blogger.

One of the very first bloggers I followed on a regular basis was a very talented poet/philosopher/empath who called herself Supa Sister. I adored her online persona and she was an inspiration to me as a new blogger. (Sadly, I have lost track of her and most of her sites seem to be dormant. I hope that, wherever she is, she is okay and that her talent continues to thrive.)

I've had many favorite bloggers and online "pals" over the years. My memory is crap for details, but I checked the Wayback Machine (cos nothing is ever lost on the internet) and was able to take a look at the past.

Of course, now that I'm reminded of all those good links, I'll be putting some back on the sidebar. (Thank you, Wayback Machine!)


When that one reader emailed me, I started wondering how many other readers bother to even look at the sidebar. The answer: probably not many.

The thing is, I want the my readers to pay attention to the sidebar. It's not there just for decoration. Not exactly. The top maybe 6 or 7 items are mostly for tracking, advertising, or some other non-fun reason. But the rest, well, that's where the good stuff is. At least, it's good stuff if you have any interest in this blog's author.

Anyway, I decided that for the next few (or more) posts, I was going to highlight parts of my sidebar. Maybe that's a little pushy of me, but... No, okay. It is definitely more than a little pushy. You can always ignore the posts, but I really hope you won't because they will be as much about you all as they are about me. My sidebar highlights things I'm interested in and I want to know what my readers are interested in as well.

So, thanks to the reader who emailed. Unfortunately (or maybe not), they chose not to include a return address. That's fine. At least they are reading the blog - and the sidebar.

Peace
--Free

Shalimar (the fragrance) Has a Brother & I Love Him

Shalimar perfume was once my scent. Not just the perfume, but even the EDT and the lotions smelled amazing on my body. Shalimar, my sweet Shalimar... I owned it, rocked it, and wore it so well that I should have been a Guerlain spokeswoman.

Then, hormones.

When I turned the age corner from 35 to 36 or 37, I noticed my Shalimar didn't smell quite the same. Actually, it smelled just as wonderful as always - for about two hours. Then, nothing. Always before then, it was at the 2-hour mark that the fragrance was starting to work a third-level of magic. Those undernotes in the potion would go from spicy and start to get mellower and kind of smoky.

By the time, I hit 40, I had to give up on Shalimar. The perfume still worked for me. Mostly. Thing is, the perfume is pricier than I could splurge on that often.

I played with some other scents, trying to find any one of them that made me feel the way Shalimar once had. And, believe me, with fragrance, it is so much about the feeling. When I wore Shalimar, I felt beautiful and sexy. I felt empowered by my own femininity. That may sound strange, but it's true. No matter what clothes I wore or how I styled my hair and makeup, I just didn't feel completely "finished" until I dabbed on, spritzed on, or smoothed on my Shalimar.

The first other fragrance I kind-of-sort-of loved after Shalimar was Dior's Dune. I really liked it a lot, but it didn't take away my grief over Shalimar.

Then I met Flori Robert's Gold fragrance. Oh, mercy. It's as if the heavens opened up and breathed out golden sunshine. Once again, I felt like I had found my soul's aroma. That latest for about 2 years and then, I will be damned if Gold was no more.

What is it about wonderful things like the perfect fragrance or a really good makeup product? Is there a demon of the vanities that decides when to slap us with reality by discontinuing something we love?

Whatever.

Everyone knows what they feel like when something they love is discontiued.

Since then, I have never had a "signature scent". I like Viva la Juicy (a lot), Donna Karan's Cashmere, Kenzo's Flowers, and another Gold scent that I lost my tester tube of so I don't know who brands it. I like a lot of scents, but I have never been in love with one again since Shalimar and Flori Robert's Gold. I became perfume celibate.

Then, I was reading about how a lot of femme scents have matching Homme scents (and, no I don't care if I just mangled that all up). I started to wonder if Shalimar had a matching "brother" scent. And, here, folks, is where life gets weird...

This is apparently the brother scent of Shalimar:

I even like the bottle

That is Habit Rouge. Which happens to have been the favorite scent of one of my biggest celebrity crushes ever. This man:

via GIPHY
Makes me sweat.

OK, that's when he was young and so were we. He still had that charisma when he got a bit older.

via GIPHY

The saddest thing is, he never lived to reach middle age with the rest of us.

Still, you know a man is hot when he's been gone from this earth for something like 20 years and women still swoon at the mention of his name. Just take a look at the teenagers on Tumblr who crush on the man.

via GIPHY

Go ahead. Swoon a little. I'll wait.

Anyway, I heard about the fragrance matching Shalimar a while before I learned my late crush had favored it. And it smells ah-may-zing.

Now, I will wear a fragrance meant for men. Fahrenheit is a favorite of mine, but only because I like the way it smells, period. I love Habit Rouge because of the way it smells on me. Isn't it just crazy the power scents and smells hold over us? They evoke all kinds of emotions and memories.

If you ever wanted a fragrance that compliments Shalimar, Habit Rouge is the one.

Peace
--Free

Being Free is Almost 8 Years Old

Playing around with an app called Days Since, I realized that this blog is - at this very moment - 7 years, 9 months and 11 days old.

Dang.

Up to now I have published 702 posts (not including this one).

Wow.

Since I haven't published any of my fiction novels, this blog is the most of myself as a "writer" that I have put out for anyone to see. Here's to another 8 years of the blog. Until I do get a book ready to be published, here are the posts that people seem to like the most. Based on Blogger's stats, these have all gotten the most views. (To those of you who have posts regularly hitting in the thousands, let me just have my little moment here.)

• Bailey Quarters (2/23/09) 1280+
• The Wisdom of Children (3/29/09) 1130+
• The Devil is a Liar! (5/18/09) 5820+
• A Recipe: Hot Water Cornbread (5/30/09)
• Bust the Busy-ness (8/ 18/09)
• Strange & Beautiful Streets. Strange & Beautiful Life (7/30/10) 1570+
• Auld Lang Syne (12/26/10) 1460+
• The Fitting Room Blues (3/16/12)
• Old Loves. Old Love Songs (4/11/12) 
• **REVIEW** Pedi-Spin (6/18/12) 5300+
• **REVIEW** L'Oreal EverCreme (7/23/12)  2800+
• **REVIEW** Garnier Miracle Skin Perfector Oil-Free B.B. Cream (4/10/13)
• Cootie Catchers and Life (10/18/13)

If I wrote only to get a lot of visitors to the blog, I guess I would write more about kids, the devil and skin products! But I write to make myself think or laugh or wonder, and it's pretty cool when so many other people come over here to share it all with me.

Peace

--Free

Accidentally Brilliant, Unintentionally Sexy

As if I don't have enough blogs, I finally started my A.B.U.S. one.

That is: Accidentally Brilliant, Unintentionally Sexy. Um hm. Don't be mad, just go ahead and book mark it. (You are bookmarking it, aren't you?)

Before you go running over to see the new blog (you are running over there, right?), understand that it has a religious theme. I needed a blog where I could post about my Christianity and other religious topics that interest me.

Get crazy about the name of the blog if you want, but I explain that in the first post. I was not giving up that title that I came up with back in April of last year. I am still working on a story by the same name, but you will see how it suits that particular blog.

Just wanted to introduce you to what I have been working on. I've been busy with that and with my exercises and trying to plan the rest of my life. G-Plus has been on the backburner for a few days and I really miss those folks. Got to go over and give a shout out to some of them, RIGHT NOW!

Peace
--Free

Things That Shouldn't Bother Me. Shouldn't.

These are some things that really, seriously bother me. Maybe they shouldn't, but they do. Any of this ever happen to you?

• When there are 2 squares of tissue left, but no one changed the roll.
• Going to the store with a list and still managing to get all the way home missing something.
• Making plans with the people you love and they have the gall to hold you to them.
• When someone comes into a room and drops a stinky Butt Bomb then leaves. I don't know about you, but I'm always sitting there either a) wondering if, among my other health issues, I am now emitting some kind of funk that I am unaware of at the time, b) looking like the guilty party when someone else wanders in, or c) trying to hold my breath and find the air freshener before the Green Mist can cling to me.
• Getting your mouth all wet for last night's leftovers only to find an empty container.
• Preparing a meal and, halfway through cooking and measuring,  realizing you are out of something. It's never the main ingredient, but it's usually one that makes the dish worth the calories.
• When stuff is stacked so haphazard in a freezer that the ice cream fall out and damn near breaks one of your toes. (Does not matter at all that it's not my freezer and I am stealing a taste of your ice cream.)
• When I eye-flirt with the cute guy who smiled at me in the store and he misses it because he's off in la-la land, but not the John Gacy behind him. No. It's those guys that always catch the look...
• Waking up out of dead sleep because I have dreamed  the idea that will make me rich and happy - just as the idea is dissolving into a maddening fog of... nothing.
• Seeing your doppelganger who looks better, dresses better and seems to set the standard for... being you.

I just want to think that I'm not the only one who thinks like this.

Peace

--Free

I'm SO Busted (or my personality is anyway)

I can thank Mz Newy for turning me on to this handwriting analysis program (free online & even tho they will try to sell you a registration, you can opt for the total freebie) that nailed the good, bad & ugly that is Free...

Mz Newy is so gutsy. She shared her entire analysis. I'm way more guarded (and that showed in the analysis, damnit) and will only share partials.

Ahem. Here goes (My comments in small letters):

Free is moderately outgoing. Her emotions are stirred by sympathy and heart rendering stories. (Heck yeah. The street-corner homeless LOOK for my car 'cause they know I'm good for a handout of a buck or two)In fact, she can be kind, friendly, affectionate and considerate of others. She has the ability to put herself into the other person's shoes.

Free will be somewhat moody, with highs and lows. ("Somewhat?" Nah. I'm "Allwhat" when it comes to moody!) Sometimes she will be happy, the next day she might be sad. She has the unique ability to get along equally well with what psychology calls introverts and extroverts. This is because she is in between. Psychology calls Free an ambivert. She understands the needs of both types. Although they get along, she will not tolerate anyone that is too "far out." She doesn't sway too far one way or the other.

When convincing her to buy a product or an idea, a heart rendering story could mean a great deal to her. She puts herself in the same situation as the person in the story, yet she will not buy anything that seems overly impractical or illogical. Free is an expressive person. She outwardly shows her emotions. She may even show traces of tears when hearing a sad story. (I bawl out loud over those orphan commercials. Can't help it & I don't think that's a bad thing. Just wish I had more money to give.)

Free is a "middle-of-the-roader," politically as well as logically. She weighs both sides of an issue, sits on the fence, and then will decide when she finally has to. She basically doesn't relate to any far out ideas and usually won't go to the extreme on any issue.

People that write their letters in an average height and average size are moderate in their ability to interact socially. According to the data input, Free doesn't write too large or too small, indicating a balanced ability to be social and interact with others.(Yep. Til they start getting on my nerves. Then I just go into hermit mode.)

Free will be candid and direct when expressing her opinion. She will tell them what she thinks if they ask for it, whether they like it or not. So, if they don't really want her opinion, don't ask for it! (Um... I've gotten into trouble for this trait)

Because Free has sharp needle pointed 'm' and 'n' humps, she has a very sharp mind. She instantly sizes up situations, making instant decisions. She thinks and evaluates circumstances very rapidly. Many people with this type of mind are geniuses, thus she may be seen as highly intelligent. Free is often irritated by slow talkers or slow thinkers. If she drives, she gets irritated by slow drivers in the fast lane. She quickly becomes bored when being taught on the level of the slowest student in class. She may be on problem number three when the rest of the class is on problem one. Free is curious and very active. In fact, in school she might have been a trouble maker because she thought so much faster than the other kids, she finished her work first, thus having plenty of time on her hands to make trouble! (And to think that my folks just thought I was being a pain in the ass...)

Kind of cool, huh? The thing is, some of the analysis disturbed me. Not because the observations were wrong but because they were right & I hadn't realized some things about myself. Shit. Now I'm pretty sure I need therapy. Too bad I'm broke.

I'm curious to hear what other people think after trying the analysis.

Peace

--Free

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.

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.

Peace,
--Free

Tags:


birthdays
resolutions
life

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:

Lunchtime.

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 bad...ba-dump-bump... 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.

Peace
--Free

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."

Song:
Stevie Wonder: "Do I Do"

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

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.

Peace
--Free

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.

Now.

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.

Peace
--Free