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Showing posts sorted by relevance for query safe in their mouth. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query safe in their mouth. Sort by date Show all posts

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Love and Aging

My best friend and I were talking (because we talk on the phone at least once a week) and I asked her if she wanted to find love again. Her answer was that she had never found it before and that she is no longer looking.  Since I guess I am relatively younger (she's 20 years my senior) she lobbed the question back at me. My answer is more complicated.

Here's the thing: I've not been good at or "lucky" in love. A just-uncoupled friend sent me a meme once that said, basically, that being in love and being in a relationship are two different things That is so true that it stings. So, I guess I would take either - love or the relationship - but would prefer the latter.

Love is tricky and, in my opinion, very rare. I know that a lot of people talk about being in love and having found the love of their lives but I think it's more complicated than that. I believe that most people have just found someone they can love and be happy with. I don't think that most people find their truest love or "soul mate". Sorry if that offends anyone.

So, yes, I would love to be 'in love' - who wouldn't? I'd love to just be with someone who most perfectly matches the edges and curves of my soul. That probably won't ever happen but I never give up hope. I would, at this point, settle for being in a really good relationship. And I consider a good relationship being one based on comfort zones, acceptance, and loyalty. I'm not a person who likes to be smothered. I don't want someone breathing up all my air and I don't want to suffocate them. I'm too much of a hermit crab (Cancerian here, remember?) but I do want to make someone happy and I'd prefer not be grow old(er) alone. I take that back. I don't want to grow old lonely.

A long while back I posted what some children had to say when asked: "what is love?" Kids are so damn pure! One of my favorite answers was given by 4-year-old Billy:
'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'
Billy was four at the time, people. I can't imagine the man he will grow up to be.

A 7-year-old Noelle gave an answer that, in my opinion, describes a relationship:
'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.'
She has the concept down. There is a tricky difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. It took me until my thirties to figure that one out.

So, love or relationship? Again, I'd like to have both. I'd rather have my name safe in someone's mouth, but I'd take having them just care enough to make me a priority.

I don't think there are many men out there who would want a relationship with me. For one thing, I'm more sensual than sexual and I get the feeling that most men my age date younger because they want children or porn-like intimacy.  I'm the chick who needs my space when I need my space but will often want to sleep in a cling-wrap cuddle.  And I don't like having mundane, pointless conversations because nothing should be mundane and pointless. How nice to be able to enjoy someone in their silence... I want a person who has their own "thing" - something they care so much about that they don't mind if I don't care about it with them; something that gives them a reason to have their own space every now and then. And I want someone who has gotten over themselves enough to be flawed and awkward; someone who can laugh and cry and think without caring what anyone thinks of them for laughing, crying or thinking. I just want someone who makes me feel comfortable being who I am. I remember being married and waking up early just to get rid of morning breath and crawl back into bed with the whole fake I-woke-up-looking-this-good. F*ck that!

Someone once told me that, often, people aren't looking to be loved but looking to be rescued. This may be truest as we age. For certain, there is hope for older people looking for actual love. One of the people who used to live in this apartment building started seriously dating a few months back. And get this: he is dating someone around his own age! The judgemental witch that I can sometimes be was surprised by this. The guy is nice-looking and I suspect that he is really comfortable in his retirement (some seniors here hide their money to live in the building), and he likes to 'party' (read that as hitting up the VFW almost every night). He even asked me out once. Alas, I don't 'party' like that. Of course, because I can be bitter and critical, I just knew that dude had hooked up with someone half his age. Nope. She's kind of hot, but she is most definitely "mature". He likes to bring her by every now and then when he visits with his buddies who still live here. I'm a little jealous now. LOL

As for my best friend, I tease that she doesn't have to be looking to find love. As a matter of fact, I think it's when we aren't looking that it finds us. Now I'm a little scared.

Peace
--Free

P.S.:
I am such a fan of  JM Storm (his Facebook link). He's prolific on Instagram and has books and an Amazon page.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

**GRIOT** Named and Loved

Okay, so I was chatting online with some of the nieces and nephews about these Griot posts. They love hearing about their 'grandpeople' and I love sharing what I can remember. Since the cousins are all about the genealogy these days, I thought that I could talk about some of the names that run in our line.

A name is a special thing. Your surname can be a kind of placeholder in history. Your first names sometimes are meant to reflect the hopes pinned on you. In the Bible, names are very important. God would change people's name or bless their names. Today, we honor our Adamic past by giving children Bible names. I watched a documentary the other day where the presenter noted that you won't find a lot of children named after Judas Iscariot. I had never thought of that before. Personally, I have always believed that the name a child grows up with can have a serious impact on their personality and attitude, not to mention in how the rest of the world might see them. That's why we make cruel fun of people by calling them a "Becky" or "Shanequa" - and I have been cruel in that way...

In my family, nicknames were kind of a big deal. My mother had an older brother named Eber but everyone called him "Mutt". Uh, yeah. Don't ask because I don't know. There were other male relatives or close friends known as Sonny, Sonny Boy, Snookie Boy, and Bugs.

One of my mother's sisters - the one who passed before I was old enough to know her - had a beautiful name: French L. The "L" didn't stand for anything, it was just part of her birth name. I do remember that some of my folks would pronounce her name as "Frānch L.", going long on the 'a'. Apparently, she was as beautiful as her name. She must have been a riot though. I heard one story about her once being a little tipsy and admonishing a child for having their shoes on the wrong feet. The child knew better than to mention it, but the adults who were there cracked up laughing because Aunt French L's shoes were also on the wrong feet. Aunt French L's granddaughter was named after her but we mostly called her just "French" or "Frenchie".

Some of the adults I knew as a child were always referred to by their initials. To this day, I can't tell you what Aunt French L's husband's real name was. We just called him Mr. J.B.

My father always called my mother Hon but most of her other family and friends called her "Tootsie" (or, as they pronounced it, "Too-see"). This is because she was very dark complected but, as a child and teenager, had fire-red hair. Being so black-skinned with that red hair, she looked to them like a Tootsie Pop. She dyed her hair a deep brown for years until it started to grow in as a darker auburn. Here's something crazy: I'm very dark-skinned like my mother and my hair also tends towards auburn if I don't keep it dyed. In addition to that, I inherited from my father blue encircled irises. It's a harmless condition and not a totally uncommon thing although it can freak people out when the sun hits my eyes the right way. Without the sun shining into them, most people don't notice anything different about my dark brown eyes.

Back to the wonderful nicknames, one of my favorite uncles - formally named a Jr after his father, Oscar Sr - was always called Hot Shot (or 'Hah-shot'). My grandfather was known to his friends as "Bud". Oscar Sr's wife (my step-grandmother) was "Miss Ollie" to everyone, including me and the other grandchildren. By the way, young Rudy Cosby sounded just like Miss Ollie did when saying "Bud".



Granddaddy Bud's first wife, my grandmother, was named Gretchel but, for some reason, everyone called her "Aunt Jack".For the longest time, I thought her first name must have been Jacqueline or Jackie.

I had a cousin we always called "Yogi". Whenever a teacher in school used her birth name of Saundra, everyone - including Yogi - would look around to see who she was referring to. Other cousins and peers of mine had names that had to do with sweetness: Peaches, Cookie, Sugar, Candy. I use those names for characters in my stories because I loved the real people.

Now that  I think of it, my Texas family were the ones with nicknames. Not so much with my Arkansas relatives. I'm going to have to think about that a little bit. Actually, my dad's father was never called George; everyone called him Mr.Tampa and I don't know why that is since "Tampa" was no part of his actual name... Now I'm going to have to get in touch with one of the aunties! I need to know what was going on with my grandpa's name!

Remember now that my paternal grandfather - Mr. Tampa - was a Louisiana man. His relatives did have nicknames. I remember a distant female cousin (?) that was called "Big'un". I really am going to have to talk to my paternal aunties because I cannot remember some of the other nicknames for the Lousiana family...

My oldest brother was called "Chubby". When he was younger, he was, in fact, kind of chubby. My sister who I've talked so much about over the years was nicknamed "Mike" and there's a story behind that. I was Penny to my parents and siblings up until I became a teenager. One of my older brothers still calls me by that nickname on occasion and I had one uncle who called me that until he died a couple of years ago. Apparently, as an infant, I was copper-colored like a new penny. As I got older and my skin darkened, one of my older brothers started calling me "Black Knight". Yeah. Cute... In high school, I went through a phase where I used only my middle name: Michele. Some of my closest friends back then called me Bones because I was so rail-thin. Oh, the good old days of carbs without consequences!

Names are not just an identity. Your name belongs to you in a way that can help shape your identity. When you love someone - through kinship, friendship, or romance - their name on your tongue has the taste of your relationship with them. You might remember that favorite quote of mine is by a child who defined love as keeping someone's name safe in your mouth. That's so real.

Thinking back to some of the first people, Adam's and Eve's names had meaning. Even God has several names and they each have a special meaning. I personally like to think of Him as El Shaddai and Elohim. To go further, even love has different names. In reference to my faith, Agape (or Agapao) love is the one that most comforts me.

So, when you think of your loved ones and speak their names, remember what the Bible teaches about the power of the tongue. Keep those names safe in your mouth. Speak their names with love and peace and hopes for their well-being. Even when speaking of your enemies, be careful not to use their names in ways you wouldn't want anyone to use yours.

Peace
--Free





And since I am in a praising the Lord mood right now, here's some Third Day with beautiful lyrics




Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Wisdom of Children


I got this in an email & it gave me goosebumps. Maybe because I have been struggling lately over what love really is and what loving someone really means. I have been looking in the Bible for insight on the love between spouses and keep landing on 1 Corinthians 13:4 - Love is always patient; love is always kind; love is never envious or arrogant with pride. Nor is she conceited.

When I saw the answers these children gave, I realized they understand love a lot better than I do. The question "What is love?" was posed to children aged 4 to 8 by a group of professionals (according the the email) and these are the answers given:

  • 'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca- age 8
  • 'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'Billy - age 4 ('Safe in their mouth.' What a beautiful thought!)
  • 'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5
  • 'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'Chrissie - age 6
  • 'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4
  • 'Love is when my mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 7
  • 'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more... My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss' Emily - age 8
  • 'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
  • 'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,' Nikka - age 6
  • 'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.' Noelle - age 7
  • 'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'Tommy - age 6
  • 'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8
  • 'My mummy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6 (ROFL!!!)
  • 'Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine-age 5
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7
  • 'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day' Mary Ann - age 4
  • 'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4
  • 'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image) Karen - age 7
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.' Mark - age 6
  • 'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget..'Jessica - age 8
And the final one --

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

(I felt like crying myself when I read that last one. I once heard a minister preach about being a friend by sitting with someone during their suffering and grief. He illustrated his point with Job 2:13 Then they sat down on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights with no one speaking a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great. The minister said that sometimes when people go through suffering, the best thing to do is to say nothing but to "sit where they sit," in other words, to sit with them in their grief. That little kid could teach everybody something.)
Peace
--Free

Thursday, January 17, 2013

(Re-post) Children & Wisdom


(I was going through some old emails the other day and the one that prompted this post popped out at me. I've been too busy the last couple of days to play, so here's a copy/paste re-post. Enjoy)

I got this in an email & it gave me goosebumps. Maybe because I have been struggling lately over what love really is and what loving someone really means. I have been looking in the Bible for insight on the love between spouses and keep landing on Corinthians 13:4 - Love is always patient; love is always kind; love is never envious or arrogant with pride. Nor is she conceited.

When I saw the answers these children gave, I realized they understand love a lot better than I do. The question "What is love?" was posed to children aged 4 to 8 by a group of professionals (according the the email) and these are the answers given:

  • 'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca- age 8
  • 'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'Billy - age 4 ('Safe in their mouth.' What a beautiful thought!)
  • 'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5
  • 'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'Chrissie - age 6
  • 'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4
  • 'Love is when my mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 7
  • 'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more... My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss' Emily - age 8
  • 'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
  • 'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,' Nikka - age 6
  • 'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.' Noelle - age 7
  • 'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'Tommy - age 6
  • 'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8
  • 'My mummy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6 (ROFL!!!)
  • 'Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine-age 5
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7
  • 'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day' Mary Ann - age 4
  • 'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4
  • 'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image) Karen - age 7
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.' Mark - age 6
  • 'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget..'Jessica - age 8
And the final one --

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

(I felt like crying myself when I read that last one. I once heard a minister preach about being a friend by sitting with someone during their suffering and grief. He illustrated his point with Job 2:13 Then they sat down on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights with no one speaking a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great. The minister said that sometimes when people go through suffering, the best thing to do is to say nothing but to "sit where they sit," in other words, to sit with them in their grief. That little kid could teach everybody something.)
Peace
--Free


P.S.: This is a good time to be busy. Outside looks like this:


HUGE flakes still coming down. No signs of stopping. Ugh, winter.

Thursday, August 26, 2021

(Repost) **GRIOT** Named and Loved

 (Okay, this one from 7/13/19 is the last of the repostings. The sarc fog is easing up. I've been drinking a lot of coffee and am working on the review of the new coffeemaker. For this last recycling of posts, I wanted to share one that always makes me smile. My family is my whole heart and just thinking of them makes me feel better and blessed and able to keep going. If you don't have blood relatives, your friends can be your family. Your neighbors can be your family. Whoever your "family" is, always think of them with love.)


Okay, so I was chatting online with some of the nieces and nephews about these Griot posts. They love hearing about their 'grandpeople' and I love sharing what I can remember. Since the cousins are all about the genealogy these days, I thought that I could talk about some of the names that run in our line.

A name is a special thing. Your surname can be a kind of placeholder in history. Your first names sometimes are meant to reflect the hopes pinned on you. In the Bible, names are very important. God would change people's names or bless their names. Today, we honor our Adamic past by giving children Bible names. I watched a documentary the other day where the presenter noted that you won't find a lot of children named after Judas Iscariot. I had never thought of that before. Personally, I have always believed that the name a child grows up with can have a serious impact on their personality and attitude, not to mention in how the rest of the world might see them. That's why we make cruel fun of people by calling them a "Becky" or "Shanequa" - and I have been cruel in that way...

In my family, nicknames were kind of a big deal. My mother had an older brother named Eber but everyone called him "Mutt". Uh, yeah. Don't ask because I don't know. There were other male relatives or close friends known as Sonny, Sonny Boy, Snookie Boy, and Bugs.

One of my mother's sisters - the one who passed before I was old enough to know her - had a beautiful name: French L. The "L" didn't stand for anything, it was just part of her birth name. I do remember that some of my folks would pronounce her name as "Frānch L.", going long on the 'a'. Apparently, she was as beautiful as her name. She must have been a riot though. I heard one story about her once being a little tipsy and admonishing a child for having their shoes on the wrong feet. The child knew better than to mention it, but the adults who were there cracked up laughing because Aunt French L's shoes were also on the wrong feet. Aunt French L's granddaughter was named after her but we mostly called her just "French" or "Frenchie".

Some of the adults I knew as a child were always referred to by their initials. To this day, I can't tell you what Aunt French L's husband's real name was. We just called him Mr. J.B.

My father always called my mother Hon but most of her other family and friends called her "Tootsie" (or, as they pronounced it, "Too-see"). This is because she was very dark-complected but, as a child and teenager, had fire-red hair. Being so black-skinned with that red hair, she looked to them like a Tootsie Pop. She dyed her hair a deep brown for years until it started to grow in a darker auburn. Here's something crazy: I'm very dark-skinned like my mother and my hair also tends towards auburn if I don't keep it dyed. In addition to that, I inherited from my father blue encircled irises. It's a harmless condition and not a totally uncommon thing although it can freak people out when the sun hits my eyes the right way. Without the sun shining into them, most people don't notice anything different about my dark brown eyes.

Back to the wonderful nicknames, one of my favorite uncles - formally named a Jr after his father, Oscar Sr - was always called Hot Shot (or 'Hah-sha'). My grandfather was known to his friends as "Bud". Oscar Sr's wife (my step-grandmother) was "Miss Ollie" to everyone, including me and the other grandchildren. By the way, young Rudy Cosby sounded just like Miss Ollie did when saying "Bud".

Granddaddy Bud's first wife, my grandmother, was named Gretchel but, for some reason, everyone called her "Aunt Jack".For the longest time, I thought her first name must have been Jacqueline or Jackie.

I had a cousin we always called "Yogi". Whenever a teacher in school used her birth name of Saundra, everyone - including Yogi - would look around to see who she was referring to. Other cousins and peers of mine had names that had to do with sweetness: Peaches, Cookie, Sugar, and Candy. I use those names for characters in my stories because I loved the real people.

Now that  I think of it, my Texas family were the ones with nicknames. Not so much with my Arkansas relatives. I'm going to have to think about that a little bit. Actually, my dad's father was never called George; everyone called him Mr.Tampa and I don't know why that is since "Tampa" was no part of his actual name... Now I'm going to have to get in touch with one of the aunties! I need to know what was going on with my grandpa's name!

Remember now that my paternal grandfather - Mr. Tampa - was a Louisiana man. His relatives did have nicknames. I remember a distant female cousin (?) that was called "Big'un". I really am going to have to talk to my paternal aunties because I cannot remember some of the other nicknames for the Lousiana family...

My oldest brother was called "Chubby". When he was younger, he was, in fact, kind of chubby. My sister who I've talked so much about over the years was nicknamed "Mike" and there's a story behind that. I was Penny to my parents and siblings up until I became a teenager. One of my older brothers still calls me by that nickname on occasion and I had one uncle who called me that until he died a couple of years ago. Apparently, as an infant, I was copper-colored like a new penny. As I got older and my skin darkened, one of my older brothers started calling me "Black Knight". Yeah. Cute... In high school, I went through a phase where I used only my middle name: Michele. Some of my closest friends back then called me Bones because I was so rail-thin. Oh, the good old days of carbs without consequences!

Names are not just an identity. Your name belongs to you in a way that can help shape your identity. When you love someone - through kinship, friendship, or romance - their name on your tongue has the taste of your relationship with them. You might remember that favorite quote of mine is by a child who defined love as keeping someone's name safe in your mouth. That's so real.

Thinking back to some of the first people, Adam's and Eve's names had meaning. Even God has several names and they each have a special meaning. I personally like to think of Him as El Shaddai and Elohim. To go further, even love has different names. In reference to my faith, Agape (or Agapao) love is the one that most comforts me.

So, when you think of your loved ones and speak their names, remember what the Bible teaches about the power of the tongue. Keep those names safe in your mouth. Speak their names with love and peace and hope for their well-being. Even when speaking of your enemies, be careful not to use their names in ways you wouldn't want anyone to use yours.

Peace
--Free





And since I am in a praising the Lord mood right now, here's some Third Day with beautiful lyrics



Monday, May 27, 2019

Journals and the Randomness

I've been blogging here for so long that I sometimes forget why I started or why I keep going. My reasons change with my moods. Currently, I'm in the middle of one of my "years that ask" moods.

Being in this kind of mood prompted me to look back over some old posts (I deleted a few lots of them) and to open up some of my pen-and-paper journals. Oh man. What a walk back through the tangled madness that is my inner life.

Part of me is pleased that I blog and keep journals. Part of me is alarmed at things that I have written down. I might regret it later but I destroyed some of my entries. I'm talking shredded the pages and soaked them in bleach before vac-sealing them and putting in the very bottom of the dumpster. Shit.

Some of my worst (and most cruel) entries were about my ex. And here's the thing:  I can try blaming him all I want but that man never did anything I didn't allow. I'm ashamed at the pure hate I directed at him in my journals. Hate mingled with self-righteousness. One line would be pure hate and the next would be about my intentions to pray for him. WHAT???? I'm telling you, love is its own form of madness...

My journals document my procrastination and head-in-the-clouds attitude. I realize that I need someone or something to ground me. In the past, I was rooted in reality with a lot of responsibility. For a long time, I only ever spent energy swimming against the tide of taking care of kids and a home and an aging parent, and then a sibling. Then, suddenly, I was "in love". And just like all money ain't good money, all love ain't real love. That was one of my mother's sayings. So much truth. One of my now-destroyed journal entries questioned whether I was actually in love at that time or if I was just reacting to the last hoorah of my then soon-to-be-extinct ovulation cycles.  That belated realization made me feel torn between laughing and crying.

I spent a few hours reading back over those journals. I almost can't believe how many of them I've packed around with me all these years. I'm undecided about whether I will be destroying any more of them. It's a little scary to have a written record of my deepest thoughts around. Deep thoughts, dark thoughts, deliriously happy thoughts, and hopeful thoughts. Some thoughts that should only be shared with the person who keeps your name safe in their mouth.

An interesting thing I learned about myself is what I am okay with and not okay with baring to others. I'm a lot like the society I live in. It's sometimes easier to share what should be kept private than it is to share what matters most. I think that is true of this time we live in. People are often more comfortable discussing their sex life with strangers than they are about being raw and open with a loved one.

Note: I'm in free-flow mode and can't be sure if any of this is making sense. Just hang with me for a bit.

I think I've mentioned here before that this blog is my passive-aggressive way of expressing myself. You readers are out there but not entirely "real" to me.  What I mean by that is I don't have to look into your eyes and see your shock or disapproval or condemnation. I just get to share. If I met you on the street, you would not even be able to guess at everything going on in my heart.

Warning: Some rough segues ahead. Really rough.

I wonder if it's true that when you die your life flashes before your eyes? I just googled this and, apparently, there is some evidence reported. I don't know if I want that to be a thing. I barely survived reviewing my old journals.

When I was deleting parts of my journals, the main thing I considered was someone finding them after I'm dead. Yeah. I think about that kind of stuff a lot. Not the dying part, but the part where someone goes through all my personal effects. Not that I would be here to die again of mortification but if I could, I surely would.

And all my paper journals!

And it's not like I have a lot of nasty-girl stuff stashed in the backs of closets and dresser drawers. My fear is that someone will find one of the journal entries I wrote right after I got mad at them about something. One of my worst personal traits is that whatever I feel, I feel deeply.

This right here is not just a joke, on a wrong day, it's my life

my feelings are easily hurt

Thankfully, the balance of this trait is that I have learned to channel any negative feelings into writing/journaling until it's safe to deal with them any other way.

So keeping a journal is healthy to a point. As long as you don't keep all of the feelings on paper where they do no one else any good. Blogging is a whole other thing. Blogs go out into the world. Even if you delete posts, they can be retrieved. Yikes.

I guess I currently feel that journals and blogs are great for general sharing. However, if you love someone or are worried about them or just need to tell them something they really need to hear, you have to be braver. Do that in person - and in private. To paraphrase something my mother tried to teach me: love out loud, argue in whispers, and never, ever let the sun set on your anger. That's one of the things I pulled from my journals.

Let's all just be good to each other.

Peace
--Free

Friday, May 28, 2010

Um, Yeah... Okay

I am just in one of those moods! Just about everyone and everything I see lately is funny to me. Especially those people who are so critical but have obviously never looked at The Man In the Mirror (sing it, Micheal!)...

I was in a store not long ago & I remember being tickled by this lady giving another lady the oh-no-you-di'nt look. I guess Lady#1 was not impressed that Lady#2 (who was a little on the big side) was wearing some vacuum-sealed, panty-short shorts. Okay, I get it: some folks shouldn't wear certain types of clothes when they are of a certain age, size or body-shape. Got it. BUT - Lady#1 had a little bit of nerve to be giving ANYbody else the side-eye over wardrobe choices. Lady#1 wasn't a big girl, but she was sporting some nasty cellulite, so I don't think HER choice of shorts was wise. To top it off, she was wearing one of those t-back tank tops WITH a regular bra & that bra was not clean. So.... *smh*

When I was younger, I was one of those super-critical, ultra-catty heffas. I mean, I'd crack on just about anybody for the way they wore their hair, clothes, makeup... You name it. I was just a rude child (at least when my mama wasn't around to put me in check), so I'm not totally innocent here. But, dang - some folks just need not to make an Olympic sport of the casual critique. I hear crazy crap all the time...

My pet peeve is when people use the word "ghetto" to describe someone with no manners. Like there aren't people who were raised or live in the inner city who don't have manners. (And we know that when people say "ghetto," they usually mean "black." No shame in speaking the truth here!) What's that about? I've noticed that there are a lot of people raised in upper-middle and wealthy homes who can slap on a "ghetto" slang and vibe like nobody's business. And I have personally heard some young non-black girls who sound "blacker" (I know, I know - like there is a "black" way to sound!) than any rapper. Now, my very favorite is to hear one person call another person "ghetto" when they don't sound (or act) much better. I always want to say: "See a little more of the world outside your own before you get uppity."


My next peeve is something that mostly WOMEN are bad about. (Okay, maybe not, but I hear this from more women than men). It's when a woman is very, very picky about what she wants in a man, but... Um, let's just say that HER qualities are not exactly up to par. Come on, now, you all know what I mean. You have some chick who needs a lot of acrylic (hair, nails, etc) to get out of coyote ugly range, but she just will not even LOOK at a guy unless he could make someone's "Most Beautiful" list.


Now, over to the GUYS: what y'all are bad about (at least that I've seen), is wanting to get some nice, respectable, gorgeous woman when YOU barely have a job (if you do), have no idea of how to treat a woman, AND is the kind of guy that no self-respecting woman would want to introduce to anyone as her man. I mean, really, guys. You want to walk around acting like an ignorant fool, but you want to be in the company of a classy woman? Uh uh. Won't happen. (Okay, maybe it will - ONCE - but only because she thinks you are someone worth building up. Fail that and - zip - you're done. Back to the bottom of the social heap.)


Another peeve? Those folks who just love to brag. "I got this" and "I got that." Or: "I only buy this kind of such-and-such," and "I'm gonna be getting this or that"... Chile, please. Just. Stop. You been so busy trying to talk a game that you must have forgot that I know where you come from. You don't own your home, you don't own your car, and if you have any credit, you're drowning in debt. Oh, yeah, and let's not forget that while you're rocking the latest fashions, your house is nasty and if they had a sale on common sense and future planning, you'd have to hock that attitude of yours to buy any.


Finally, I cannot leave the main peeve off the list: I call these folks "Mouth Christians." Yep. If you just listened to what they said in church or in their prayers, you'd think they had time-share in Heaven already. But when it comes down to actually BEING charitable or caring or forgiving.... No-ho-ho-ho!!! Not them. They just LIVE for the moment when they can "pay" back someone for something wrong. (Now, we don't have to worry about these folks. I believe they will get into Heaven if they do believe on Jesus, but I have a feeling they are really pushing their luck down here on earth. Jesus knows what we do.)


Anyway, I know that this wasn't a real decent post. I'm feeling a little out of sorts & having trouble concentrating. I'm headed back to Anchorage this weekend and I have a lot on my mind. This post was really just a way to think about something else but the road ahead for a minute or two. Y'all please be praying for me, that I have a safe flight & that God look over my silly little self.


Peace
--Free

 

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

What's Wrong With Being "Old-Fashioned"?

I am a little bit sad and a whole lot happy to say that one of the BFF's - "T" -  is "in love." Let's not think about the fact that I am jealous as hell. (By the way, I told her that and she laughed, so we're okay with it.) What I like most about T's love groove is that it's old-fashioned. The slow courtship, the falling deep, the whole thinking-about-the-future thing - it's just something I haven't seen a lot of for a long time. Matter of fact, my mom and dad's relationship was the last old-school kind of  love I'd personally known of.

I was telling all of this to a younger (40-something to my 50 years) lady. I'm thinking that, since we come from a similar cultural background and aren't a thousand years apart in age, she would understand what I meant. She didn't.

I explained to her that, to me, old-fashioned meant showing respect when approaching a person. Courting them with some real kindness and sweetness before you put on all the intimate moves. Learning to like them before you start sizing up what kind of house or car or job or bank account they have. Trying to see how you might fit into their life before you invade their life. In other words, just taking things a little slow. I mean, what's wrong with the whole, "I like you, do you like me?" kind of approach? That's way better than the usual, "Hey, baby, you looking so fine." Hell, it's more mature than that.

My friend looked at me like I was Jim Jones holding out a cup of Kool-Aid.

"Are you serious?" she asked me. (And she was serious.)

"Yes, I'm serious. Don't you want something real and mature and hopeful," I asked her. "Or do you want the sorry old pickup lines, lies and too fast to be good kind of thing?"

"Tell you what I want," she said. "I want a man with a job - a good job. He's got to look good, and he's got to have some swagger. You can keep that old-fashioned mess for yourself."

"So, you don't care if a man respects you or cherishes you - as long as he looks good and has bank?"

"Not only do I not care, I don't give a real good damn."

Well, at least she's honest. (You might notice that she is not one of my best friends.)

We talked about it a little bit more. Basically, she wants a image, not a man. She wants whoever looks good to anybody who might notice. I didn't ask, but I wonder what she'd be willing to put up with to have that in a man? I mean, could he beat her ass? Could he not really even care about her as a person?

I see so many women these days (my age and younger) who are into that "I gotta have a man" mode. They don't care if it's a good and decent man or not. One lady I know actually admitted to me that she does not feel "complete" without a man. What the hell is that about? I mean, to me, there is a difference in feeling "complete" and feeling "completed." I think we all want to feel completed. But, no, this friend says that she just doesn't want to be alone. To top it all, her preferred "type" is one with (I swear, she told me and another friend this) "A little bit of 'thug' in him." She's fifty-three years old, so this is not a youthful phase she's going through. I believe she's just a little bit crazy.

There are other people I know who have settled down with someone they are not happy with. They stay because it's "safe" inside a relationship. Or they stay because of kids - which I don't know how I feel about that. I mean, I think stay for the kids, but sometimes I wonder what good is an unhappy parent? You might be teaching your kids about commitment, but what are you teaching them about joy? So, that's a tough one and I change my mind every few days or so. But I really hate people who are just in a relationship only for the sex or money or laziness. Why be in a relationship if your soul isn't?

That's not what old-fashioned love is about. At least, not the way I know it. All I have to go on is my parents' relationship. (And let me disclose that my parents ended up divorcing, but they remained friends and never stopped respecting each other. Not ever.)

My father was an Air Force man. He was from small-town Arkansas. He was raised to love and respect his parents, especially his mother. (My mother always said to look for a man who loves his mothers and sisters. That didn't work out with my ex, but that's just him.)

My mother was a beautiful woman. She was a very maternal kind of person, if that makes sense. She loved to care for my dad and their family. She felt like he was the man and should be allowed to feel like a man. (Please, don't give me any feminist crap here. A woman can be strong without trying to out-man her man.)

My parents were a team. My father let my mother be good at what she was good at and she returned the favor. Sometimes, Mom was good at things that most men are "supposed" to be good at. For instance, Mom ran our finances. Daddy used to say that Mom could make a dollar out of fifteen cents. He'd give her the little bit of spending money (and G.I.s didn't make a whole lot of money) and always be amazed at what she could do with it. He loved to brag about how Mom could feed and clothe eight people (there are six of us siblings) and make it look so easy.

My dad, bless his heart, was not one of those men who was mechanically inclined - or whatever you call people who can repair and upkeep things. The big joke in our family was that whenever my dad did take something apart to fix it - say, a lawn mower - there'd be parts left over when he put it back together. (Believe it or not, most of time, whatever he fixed did work afterwards!) Now, I say it was a big joke, but it was a silent joke. My mother would have (as she'd put it) slapped the taste out of our mouth if one of us said anything to Daddy about his workmanship. She would look the lawn mower, or whatever, and go on and on about how "her man" could take care of stuff like that. She'd be acting like he had adjusted the world on Atlas's shoulders.

And they just loved each other. Just that simple. It wasn't anything complicated, as far as I could tell - just love.

I used to watch my parents do that thing where lovers look at each other across the table or a room. I didn't understand it until I fell in love myself for the first time, but I always know that that look means you've got something special with someone. My inner gauge for how I feel about someone now is when I want to give them that look. (Well, that, or when I get that melting feeling in my stomach when I think of them. With my first serious boyfriend, I knew I was feeling something the day I fell down some stairs while I was thinking about him. It happened at school. He'd been nowhere on my mind until we passed each other in the hallway just before I had to take the stairs to my own class. I was feeling so goofy-good! Man, when I went down those stairs, ending up with my skirt all up around my waist, I think I dang near busted my ass... The worst thing wasn't the falling, it was thinking how stupid I'd look to him if he saw. I couldn't even think about it and him at the same time without feeling so embarrassed.) Anyway.

So, I just want that old-fashioned kind of love. I want the man who is attracted to me, then begins to like me, then begins to want to know me better. I want the man who just wants to spend time with me because he likes being with me. I want to make him laugh, feel good about himself and feel good about life. And I want him to feel the same way about me.

Trust me, I've known the smooth talker. That didn't work because words alone won't sustain love. I've known the rich guy. That didn't work because money won't sustain respect. I've known the guy that pretended to be everything he really was not. That didn't work because real love can't be based on deceit. Real love is honest and maybe a little painful. It's awkward and it can be confusing and even kind of scary.

Old-fashioned, new-fashioned. Maybe it doesn't really matter as long as we find something real. I think my BFF has found that. That heffa!.

(I love you, T. Be happy.)

Peace
--Free


Monday, January 06, 2014

***REVIEW* Mama Chia Vitality Beverage

Was up way too late last night (2am) and made a store run for something to drink. Water just wasn't going to do it for me and coffee is the whole reason I was probably so wired in the first place.

Picked up two things: some chai  and coconut milk (that I will review later) and this right here -

I found the "Seed Your Soul" a little cheesy-sounding ~shrug~
The name is cool. Mama Chia.

I was thinking about picking up some Naked Juice or Pom, but the seeds in this drink are what caught my attention. And I love the flavors of coconut and mango - blended or separate.

Of course, the older I get, the more interested I become in diet and nutrition. If I can only tolerate but so many calories a day, they better either do my body good or make my mouth happy. So, I checked out the label:

Didn't taste like 14 grams of sugar, but what do I know?


And then I checked the hype on the label - just like I checked the hype on Naked before they got busted for exaggerating. (I hope you got your claim filed before the deadline. I did.)

They keep their claims pretty verifiable

Not bad - if true. (Damn you, Naked. You ruined my innocent belief in liquid miracles. Wine: you're still safe.)

When I paid $3.00 for the 10 zo bottle (I saved $0.99 with my store savings card), I was thinking "there goes a whole case of water." Since I just refill water bottles with tap for a couple weeks, I wasn't too mad.

The very first taste of this is... odd. Hard to describe. It has a very faint taste of sweetness. The texture is what threw my mouth for a loop. Sort of slippery-feeling - not slimey, just slick-ish. The seeds are gel-covered. With the second mouthful, I chewed to see how the seeds would be. They just cracked under the  bite, but still had no real taste. Maybe their natural taste is covered by the flavoring in the drink.

By the third or fourth mouthful, I found myself neither in love or repelled (repulsed?). Halfway through the bottle, I was okay with the taste. It's not bad, but I wish the flavors were more pronounced. (Listen to me, sounding like a expert!)

+Ben Johnson on G+ told me that he's tried the cherry flavor. I might go for that the next time. For now, I'm not feeling the urge to run out and get more but, if I'm ever wandering the store with an extra three bucks - well, maybe.

As for the claims made on the label, I have to give them points for keeping it simple. Of course, I've heard other things about chia seeds, such as how they provide appetite control and support weight loss. I headed over to WebMD to see what they had to say.

First, I'm no professional. Do your own research so that you don't have a health or other problem.

Now, since there are warning's I've seen, it's good to know that "chia seeds" are known by other names:

  • Chia as a Fresca, grain, oil, seed, sprout
  • Germe de Chia
  • Graine de Salba
  • Huile de Chia
  • S. Hispanica
  • Salba Grain
  • Salvia hispanica
  • Salvia Hispanica L

Some of the chia seed hype that's trending is that it According to WebMD, there's "insufficient evidence" for any positive effect of chia seeds on diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke and "other conditions."

LiveStrong details the nutritional benefits of ingesting chia seeds.

By the way, I started this post day before yesterday. I didn't finish the entire Vitality drink. When I pulled it out this morning to finish it for breakfast... I'm not sure if it's because it's so much colder than when I first tasted it, but I definitely don't like the texture. It seems a little bit more gummy. Ugh. I'm going to let that sit out for a little while before I finish it off.

Of course, everything comes down to personal taste. As to how the drink made me feel, I didn't notice a huge difference in energy, but that may be because I didn't finish the bottle. One thing I can say is that, unlike after drinking coffee, soda or, on rare occasions, an Rockstar/Monster- type drink, I didn't feel like I needed to gulp down a gallon of water. ~shrug~

If you do get this beverage, try finding it on sale. $3 bucks or more is sort of pricey - especially if you fall in love with it and want more.

Now, I'm going to grab a good old cup of java and go smack the day around.

Peace
--Free

Friday, February 15, 2019

**UPDATE** My 6 Month Anniversary (and a resource for new vape folk)

UPDATE: I added a couple of more links to the bottom of post

It has been184 days since I had even one puff of one cigarette. That is either
  • 15,984,000 seconds
  • 266,400 minutes
  • 4440 hours
  • 185 days
  • 26 weeks and 3 days
  • 50.68% of a common year (365 days)
In other words, to paraphrase Prince, it's been  6 months, 1 day (including today).


That's a long time and a lot of unsmoked cigarettes.

Now that I am vaping, I try to tell others what a positive change it has been for me. I'm no expert, but I am learning things I wish I had known from the start. I almost gave up because of the run-ins I had with bad devices, awful juices, and fearmongers.

I thought it would be cool to share some of the things I've seen online (okay, mostly Pinterest). I'm hoping that it will encourage others who have wanted to move from tobacco to vaping. Afterward, I will talk more about my own "journey".

The main thing I wish I had known more about what vaping actually was. I did not know that back in 2014 or '15 that most people where I lived were vaping only weed. For the rest of us, there were small devices in smoke shops like the Blu or disposables similar to Blu. I might be wrong so here is a detailed timeline that I haven't read yet. By the way, the site of that guide is a nice spot for vapers!

I still get confused.
source: vaping360
Open in new window & enlarge

The other thing that threw me for a loop was all the slang and other terminology used in the #vapelife community. I found the best glossary. It's VISUAL so, yeah! I have to admit that I will be running right over and swimming through that glossary as soon as I finish this post.  Here are some more resources


That's a good start of places for info. The other thing I found frustrating was just finding places to shop for supplies. 
  • I started with Breazy but had a bad experience with shipping and customer service. That might have been a fluke, but it really turned me off. 
  • My next spot was Electric Tobacconist and I loved both the service and shipping. 
  • An Instagram buddy turned me on to VapeWild and it was love at first order.
What I have learned is that you need to find more than 1 (or even 5) sites because some are great for different things. E. Tobacconist is awesome for devices; Breazy had a good selection too, but, you know; and VapeWild is my place for all things juice. I have bookmarked a couple of places based on suggestions from social medial pals:
Once I found a couple of safe places to order from, I learned which types (or flavors) of juices I do and don't like. I love creamy, sweet, and fruity juices - those are often listed and "desserts" or "breakfast" juices. I dislike anything of tobacco, menthol, cinnamon, or strong mint. Yech! To each his own though.

For now, I am into affordable, basic juices that taste good. Apparently, like with any product, juices come in the "basic", "above basic", and "gourmet". I have been getting sample packs of 4 30ml juices for around $17 (and they always come with 3 or more freebies to try). I never finish all the juice, but share them with family so I budgeted for once every other month. I won't have to order now for at least 3 months, maybe?


Love my folks at VapeWild!!!


That's from about 3 orders from VapeWild and a couple of random orders when I was using only nic salt to refill my Juul. Now, I rarely use nic salt (or the Juul). I can't even remember where I got those nic salts from but I know they were cheap!


Can NOT remember where I got these!

If you ever get tired of buying your juice, you can always make your own. I'm not brave enough yet but if you are, here are some resources:

That just about covers some of the stuff I wish I had been told about vaping before I started. Now that I have started, I wanted to share my story.

I have only ever quit smoking for a sustained amount of time once in my life. I lasted just about 2 years using the nicotine patch before I tumbled off that wagon. The whole time I was on the wagon, I teetered like a drunk sailor. The cravings were insane and, despite what every other reformed smoker promised, those cravings never went away. Not ever. I am sure that the only reason I even lasted so long was that I was younger and could eat like a giant and not gain but 2 ounces. Fast forward 10 years and I lasted about 1 month before I was 20 pounds heavier and mean as hell. I mentioned to someone that drinking alcohol was a trigger for me and they mixed a margarita before I could blink.

Anyway, I did want so badly to quit smoking. I liked a lot about smoking except for the smell, the taste, and the hacking cough it produced. However, when I started making some huge life changes, I had to look at my tobacco habit.

The main reason for moving out of Alaska was to improve my health. The weather is (mostly) better, the stress levels are lower, and the people are calmer. Those are all external issues. I needed to deal with things more in my control: exercise, a better diet, more water, more positivity, and... quitting smoking. The problem was, I loved the hand-to-mouth action and I actually loved seeing the smoke curl away into the air.

Enter vaping.

Vaping should have been the perfect solution but it wasn't easy to get used to. I had hated the first devices I tried a few years back - mostly disposable e-cigs and horrible tasting pen cigs - and didn't see how it could be a substitution for cigarettes. One device I tried tasted so bad that I tried rubbing my tongue on a towel to get rid of it. I recently mentioned some of this when I reviewed a device.

Once I learned about different devices and juice brands, I was on my way.

I know that there is a lot of debate about whether or not vaping is harmful. Definitely, we must keep children away from vaping - the same as we need to keep them away from tobacco - but it's my opinion that it's the best alternative to smoking.

Anyway, I hope that some of this post was helpful.

Peace
--Free


American Vaping Association is an advocacy site for vaping

Not Blowing Smoke (site not secure) "champions, promotes & campaigns" for the vape community

Vaping Post is an online publication

Vaping Daily is a good resource for information, purchasing deals, and guides - including to online stores.


Thursday, April 03, 2014

Podcasts for Writers (or nosy people!)

For a person who is so anti-Apple that I hate all things "i", this is hard for me to admit: I signed up for an iTunes account.

~sipping coffee to get the bad taste out of my mouth~

Of course, I could listen to podcasts via any player (or "podcatcher", I guess), but I'm lazy. I use something else on my phone, but I (kind of, sort of, maybe - haven't decided yet) like the iTunes store on my PC. I don't love it, but until I find something else, it will do.

That's not the point here. The point is, I found (via iTunes) some podcasts that are useful for writers. Or for nosy folks. I fit both categories.  You can listen to these podcasts however you are able to. When their is no link provided, just search iTunes. Here ya go:
There are others. I saw some that were geared toward specific genres; some were discussions with established authors. What prompted me to even search any of these out was finding Grammar Girl there.

Of course, now that I am discovering podcasts in general, I like finding fun things to listen to or watch while I am exercising. One note: to sign up without a credit card, I followed the instructions shown here. Thanks to them, my cheap ass is safe. For now.)

Now, about the iTunes Store (and podcasts), my main issue is that it's not easy to move back and forth between searches. So, I am off to check out some other "podcatchers".

Peace
--Free 

P.S.: What is up with Blogger's spellchecker? Isn't the plural of "podcast" "podcasts"??? ~face palm~