Randomness & Followups.

• I like getting feedback on posts. Most of the time, I get emails from women, but every now and then I hear from the guys. A male G-Plusser let me know that my post the other day was not what he'd expected from reading the opening. He thought the post was going to be about men being complex. Funny enough, a friend of mine now thinks there should be a post about men being complex. (Well, hell, people, men are way beyond MY understanding. If I ever feel brave enough, I will attempt to write something about the men I know. Maybe.)
• A huge Thank You to my friend, L, who returned that part of my mind I lost when left a huge gap in my recent "The Sexiest" post. How in the hell did I leave off the hot/talented/smart John Cusack? ~sigh~ I plead amnesia due to cold meds. Or brain freeze. Seriously. It's been so cold here that animals are pissing icicles.
• My smoking (or trying not to) is going well again. The Chantix is working. I guess. For about a week, I was so nauseous and bitchy I thought I was either having a miraculous pregnancy or Sarc was attacking from another front. My doc had me pause the Chantix for a couple days to see if that was the problem. Yep. Apparently, nausea is a temporary side effect. (The bitchiness belongs to me. Cold weather just pisses me off.)
• In family news, we are really blessed. My niece is here from N.C. I didn't realize how much I missed that little heffa until I got a call from my sister early this morning, teasing me. "Guess who just got here?" (It's 2:30 in the morning, so I'm thinking... fire department? Police?) Then I hear the voice of the only person who can be louder than me, screaming, "Tru-deeeeee!!!" It's my girl, Gabs! Wow. Yeah, I missed this chick. Going over in a bit to hang out so she and I can act silly.
• Other blessing: Another niece is here with hubby and kids. Baby D.J. is getting to know some more of his cousins. It's so cute. Tai (the girl) is six and in love with baby dolls and D.J. looks just like a doll to her. Her little brother, Damien, is three and very shy. He used to be Tai's only "baby doll" so I think he's a little jealous of D.J. I just sit and watch the three of them. So cute it makes my teeth ache.
• All the latest doctor checkups have been good. I'm still losing these predni-pounds. Every week I go through my clothes to see what fits again. I just about had an orgasm yesterday when I  managed to get into a favorite pair of jeans. I'm telling you, the most random shit just makes my day. (Of course, I have another appointment coming up, so I will hold off doing the hallelujah dances for now.)
• For the really random news: I cut my hair again. Pretty soon, I'm going to look like the black Sinead O'Connor circa her Prince days. My problem is laziness. And vanity. These two personality traits (?) really are affecting my life. Just like I find it easy to (try) quitting cigarettes because smoking is an aging factor, I find it no problem at all to cut my hair because of the time it saves me in the morning. Any woman with hair on her head will understand (especially most black women): hair is a chore. I loved my longer hair, but the time and money I spent was ridiculous. The drying time, curling or straightening or gelling... Now, I wash, condition and go. There's no "bed-head" situation I can't handle. I can style this 'do with my fingers in the car going through the drive-in at Java-Joe's. It's such freedom. One of my nephews rode all the way to the top of my Gift list the other day when he complimented my short hair. Hell, if I want long hair, I can buy a wig or a weave.
• Finally, for the music today, it must be the Cancerian in me, but I swung from bitchy last night to mellow this morning. Listening to: 

Um, okay. That's it for today. I got off my lazy ass and posted (no matter how lame the post). Now I am going to head over to congregate with the small village that is my family. 

Peace

--Free

P.S.: 

Wow. This freaking sexy without even trying.

Remember kids: Smart is the real sexy.

Addictions, Afflictions & Consequences

Men like talk about the complexity of the female mind.

And this is a bad thing, HOW???

I think men are just as complex. If they talked to each other more, they might realize that.

Women talk. We talk to each other and about each other. I talk to myself at least three, four times a day.

Last night, a couple of girlfriends and I sat around talking. B and I started out trying to talk T through her bad feelings about a recent breakup. That led to all of us trading relationship stories.

B is madly in love with a man who is not as in love with her. I think that's crazy but understandable. The heart is the heart and not the brain, right. (And, yeah, she reads this blog, but everything I say here I've said to her face. No secrets in this friendship of ours.)

T just broke up with a guy who has anger issues.

I am separated from a man who has every issue from A to Z.

T is lucky (or smart) because she got out of her situation before it got too ugly. B and I have been there for the "too ugly" part. What made T finally leave her situation was the threat of being hit. She is embarrassed that it got that far. She's isn't alone. Some of us got that far and took it some miles further.

B admitted, "Shit, the man I was with a few years ago once hit me so hard, my feet came up off the ground."

I can't stay silent anymore, so I tell them, "You know how you get hit so hard that you see stars? T** slapped me once and I swear I saw whole constellations."

"Did you stay?'

"Yep. For another 6 months."

Wow, that's so hard to say.

"Where you that in love with him?"

I'd never thought about it until T asked. I surprised myself when I admitted, "Not by then. I think I was addicted. To him, to being with someone, anyone."

Even B is surprised. I've always been the woman who could do it on her own. The strong one. The don't-take-shit-from-a-man one. Then I fell in love. Or in stupid.

I get mad because they are looking at me now like I'm someone different than I was a minute ago. I tell them, "You've been there, both of you. It's easier to be with the bad guy when being without him might be worse."

Addictions and fear.

T left her situation when she felt threatened. I left mine when I started sleeping with a bag packed and the phone set to 911.

Desperate to be loved. Me a little more than T.

And then there is B. She isn't being hit, but she is getting hurt.

What she wants to know is, "How do you leave when all the guys does is love you just a little less than you need?"

There's no answer for that. Years ago, I would have said something like, "As fast as you can." Or, "I've never loved anyone who didn't love me back." (And I might have been thinking how stupid she was to be in such a situation.)

I can't say or think that now.

Anyway, B and T and I never did solve any major problems last night, but we did find a little peace in our situations. First of all, we are not alone because we have each other. Second of all, we are not alone. Just by being in the company of my girlfriends, I feel loved. If only men could understand that and get with the program.

So, what does a woman do? Go out and let someone all the way into her heart - one more time? Or not?

I've decided not to look for it, but to hope for it, wait for it and, if it happens, just let it. My mother used to tell me something along the lines of how we can either let love surprise us, heal us, give us just what we need, or destroy us.

Here's something I saw on G+ the other day. Says it all:

Peace
--Free

The Randomness

A friend brought to my attention that I haven't been posting consistently for the last month or so. As if I don't know this without being told. So here are my latest thoughts and rants:

Moving took a ton out of me. My lack of energy sometimes astounds me. There's days where I have to trick myself into getting out of bed. I'll tell myself that if I don't get up, I will be missing something vital that life outside my bedroom has to offer. I got a gift cert from one of my girls and I got some beautiful wall art with it. Haven't hung up a thing yet. The art I got is sitting in a corner of the living room. I have some more, smaller pieces on layway & it can stay there until I feel like risking my life on the step stool. I've been beating hell out of myself for being such a slug, but now the fam has jumped on that wagon. "You only need the energy to get up, that will get you going." Or, as one of my friends said the other day, "Half of getting something done is just wanting to." Really? What's the other half - a magic wand?

Yeah.

Or my sister or one of the brothers will call up and make me feel guilty. "Yes, you're sick, but I'm going to come kick your ass if you don't get up and move." (Or they'll play the Mama card: "Mama would want you to be stronger than this." You do know that black people and Jewish people are true brothers and sisters, don't you? No one can play the guilt game better.) I've actually started lying. When certain numbers pop up on Caller ID, I can sound like I'm running a marathon - while I'm actually half in a sleep-coma.

Anyway.

So, even though I feel like crap (whine, whine, whine), I am up today and actually checking off a list of things to be done: laundry, post on blog, laundry, clean the bathroom, laundry, take out something for dinner, laundry, pick up prescriptions, laundry, finish D.J.'s video in time for his birthday, laundry, make my calls to the out-of-state aunties, laundry...

I really do need to do something about my life.

A friend of mine who travels in and out of town, and who is a little more than a friend but a little less than a lover, thinks I need to go away somewhere. Yeah. He has a job and things like credit cards and disposable income. My food stamps just got shut down - all $19 freaking dollars. Whoops! No more extravagant food purchases for me. Gonna have to live without that fresh spinach that I love...

Okay. I'm done with the whining. On to the good stuff:

I am getting back into reading my Bible. I used to be good about studying and praying on the Gospel, then I got sick and fell into my pity-pot. Something my 12-year old nephew said made me feel ashamed and just knocked chased me to my knees in prayer: "I love you, Auntie Roo. I'm so glad you didn't die when you were in the hospital. I prayed for you."

That made me cry with gratitude and shame. I don't want him to know that I was in danger of dying, but to my little nephew, I am old. Old and close to death! LOL. Funny/not funny. I love that little dude.

The truth is, even though I didn't die, maybe, as my mother used to say, God was trying to tell me something. Maybe I need to learn to listen for His voice. Yesterday, I watched a video called The Daniel Project. Good stuff, if you like Bible prophecy. Good stuff if you need motivation dust off your Bible.

Anyway, I apologize for such an unorganized post. I swear I think that sometimes I only post because typing at 70wpm is something I can still do and feel good about.

Peace
--Free

Random Morning Music

Have fallen in love with a couple of songs. (Not new, but new to me.) Enjoy.

her voice is nice

their energy if fun

IT STARTED WITH A WHISPER!

Most things do.

Peace

--Free

The Sexiest

People came out with there (I mean, their) famous Sexiest Man list. They did ai'ight, but... Here's mine:



Denzel is just... Denzel. What can I say?

I don't even need to explain this. Mm, mm, mm!

****

Mr. Hutchence just had the most beautiful eyes. And he could sing his butt off. And he had this way of looking at people... I imagine he was one of those guys who could've looked me right into some serious trouble.

R.I.P. you beautiful soul

1. ****

~sigh~ Oh, Leon. I could just kiss the lips off your chocolate-y goodness.

The hotness going on here... Whoo! Can somebody get a sister a fan? 

Slim Shady, baby.

"Mercy, Mercy me."

Billy Dee. Old School hotness.

R.I.P. Pac

No words. Just. No. Words.

And my Number One: that sweet, kind-eyed Keanu.

Mine, ladies - All mine

I swear I just felt my heart quiver. 

Here - let's take another look...

Lord, just one moment to look in his eyes.

I know that some of you (younger ones) are probably wondering why I have a few guys on the list who aren't here with us anymore. Doen't matter. It's not as if I (or you) have a chance, so we can dream.

The thing is, this isn't just about sexiness, but about what makes someone sexy. Not looks, money or power - even though there a prez and a bunch of rich guys here. Sexy is not ever about who you are, but what you are. For me, it's in the eyes, the smile or the kindness. I love compassionate and engaging men. If you're a guy and you want to be sexy, learn from the best.

Peace

--Free

Fashion To Die For

I went shopping a few weeks ago for shoes and boots. I have two pairs of boots that I can wear right now. Keep in mind that this is Alaska, it is winter, and I have Sarc. I have balance issues. Walking, I'm like that sad old chick leaving the club after that one drink too many. Yeah.

There was a time when I could walk downhill on an icy sidewalk in 4-inch heels and never even quit swinging my ass. I fucked around the other day and damn near broke my neck getting out of my nephew's truck. In flat-soled boots. Times, they have-a changed on me.

Anyway, like I was saying, I've been scouting some new footwear. It hasn't been going well. They don't just design shoes anymore - footwear these days is like art conceived by Satan's minions.

This is the standard heel type I saw in one store:



Cute shoe, but that's not a heel, it's a potential weapon - with me as the victim. Do you understand how many ways I could hurt myself just trying to stand still in that bitch?

This heel is more my speed.



If I wanted to look like a schoolmarm with a side job doing the hoe-stroll.

Are you starting to see why I still only have two pairs of trotters?

On to the boots...

I really like this pair that I found online. Cute and I could walk my tail off in them.



My injury was caused when I saw the $100+ tag. Unless they are going to be doing the laundry and dishes, these have no place in my home.

Okay.

And that's just footwear. Obviously, the fashion revolution wasn't televised (or I forgot to set the DVR). When the hell did clothing become so complicated?



I guess finding cute rags was easier when I was rocking those sizes 4 through 8. I really like this grey sleeve dress, but if I wore this out in public now, I'd get arrested or blind somebody. There isn't a pair of Spanx made to help me out with this one.

I might have hit on something with this one:



Great colors; loose enough to disguise things that need to be. I just can't justify the $60. I can get something similar at Burlington's for $19.99. The only problem is, finding a decent boot.

You know? Screw it. I'm going to just go with something my big brother taught me a long time ago: bring the focus back to the best. That used to be my legs, but I think now I better go find some really good lipstick and figure out how to line my eyes without jabbing myself.

Oh snap. I just saw that dashikis have made a little comeback.



$14.99? It's about to get real up in my closet.

Peace
--Free

Not P.C. Just Real

Well. I finally got my lazy ass to an eyeglass place and got my specs. Kind of scary riding with my friend once I could see just how bad she drives. I'd forgotten. This is a woman who has severe road rage issues. She also has an obsession about two other things: smoking and her hair. One time she tossed a cigarette out the car window and when it blew back in on her hair, she damn near killed herself swatting at the cherry. But she has pretty good taste so I let her pick out my frames.

So, I started out wanting to make this a post about observations on race and the recent U.S. election. I have several, and in thinking over them, I realized what a conflicted person I am:

• I hate Romney and am not thrilled with Obama. I'm registered Independent. Was going to write in  Grace Jones. Romney fucked up and praised Arizona's healthcare system. I should have asked my doctors about their opinions on the issue.
• I feel bad for Romney. (Still despise the man, but...) Seems like he was treated pretty shabbily after the loss. On one hand, I wonder how the hell his protection was just cut off so immediately; on the other hand, he can afford his own security. (One of my BFF's says that if he is smart, he had backup security from the git-go. Doesn't seem like the pros have been taking their jobs as seriously as they take their partying ways.)
• Can't understand how anyone votes for a specific party. Are we voting issues or people? Race or America? 
• Really pissed at the dumbasses doing stupid shit because Obama won. I get that some people don't like the man or his policies - or even his race. Do they get that some people felt the same way about other presidents and still managed not to be assholes about it? I was living in England when Reagan was president. Lord knows I had problems with that man, but you know what? Just like I don't talk about family out of the house, I didn't talk about my president. (I didn't defend him or anything, though. I respected the office if not the man. And guess what? I still felt my heart swell and my eyes fill with water when I heard the U.S. National Anthem played.)
• I've heard an interesting arguments about voting "race" in the election:

 A white man asked his black friend, “Are you voting for Barack Obama just because he’s black? The black man responded by saying, “Why not? In this country men are pulled over every day just because they’re black; passed over for promotions just because they’re black; considered to be criminals just because they’re black; and there are going to be thousands of you who won’t be voting for him just because he’s black! However, you do not seem to have a problem with that! This country was built on the sweat and whip of the black slaves’ back, and now a descendant of those same slaves has a chance to lead the same country, where we weren’t even considered to be HUMANS but rather property, where we weren’t allowed to be educated, drink from the same fountains, eat in the same restaurants, or even vote. So yes! I’m going to vote for him! But it’s not just because he’s black, but because he is hope, he is change, and he now allows me to understand when my grandson says that he wants to be president when he grows up, it is not a fairy tale but a short term goal. He now sees, understands and knows that he can achieve withstand and do anything, just because he’s black.".....

Why does it seem that we have evolved in so many ways yet stood frozen in time in other ways? I've read too many reports of ignorance from those against Obama - but none that discuss specific reasons against a black president. (Okay, I've seen one report discussing/not discussing it.) Here's some of the ignorance:

From Teens on Twitter... To college students... People who surprised me a little... Those who surprised me not at all... To, well, these morons (l love the first comment! My family is from the south.)

A kid thinking... An actor (the "message didn't mean anything"? Really, Sam? Damn)... And the randomness.

~sigh~ What a world this is.

 Okay. Enough seriousness. Now for the silliness! (And, yes, I realize some of you may be offended. Look, I've learned to laugh at a LOT of things.)

This is what I wanted in '08 til Bill pissed me off

Kind of arrogant, but so was Romney telling the Prez to sit down (during 1st debate)
Crow is so fucking hard to chew.

The best post-election tweet?

(And this, people, is a JOKE. Just a joke.)

A little boy was watching his mother in the kitchen making a chocolate cake from scratch. 

While the mother had her head turned, the little boy went to the table dipped both hands in the chocolate frosting and covered his face with it.

The mother turned around to see what the boy was doing. She screamed:  "Boy, what the hell are you doing?"

The son gleefully replied, "Look Mama! I'm black!!!" 

The mother became enraged and slapped the crap out of her son. She then said "Boy, go show your father what you’ve done!"

The boy then walked into the den where his father was reading and said "Look Daddy! I'm black!!" 

The father put his magazine down with a very puzzled look on his face (seeing the chocolate on the boy's face.) 

The father said "Come here, boy!" 

The boy came to him and the father smacked his son across his head. 

The father angrily said "Now go show your grandpa what you've done!!!" 

The boy then slowly walked to his grandpa who was on the porch.

He said: "Um... Grandpa, Look what I did.  I'm black now..."

The grandfather said gruffly, "COME HERE BOY!" 

The grandfather took the boy over his knee and proceeded to spank him. 

"That'll teach you! Now go back in the kitchen with your mama!!!"

The boy walks back in the kitchen and the mother said, "I hope you've learned your lesson, young man!" 

The boy says with a scowl on his face, "Hell yeah! I've been black for 5 minutes and I HATE you white folks already!"

Now, being serious again: think about the different ways that all hope for a better world really do belong to our children - if we teach them right. There should be an awareness that we all have to live here on this planet together. I want my nieces and nephews to not have a need to be tolerant because they will just naturally accept others as fellow human beings.

Peace (really)

--Free

For Ladies Only

I do reviews every now and then about products I am familiar with. The products I want post about today are for the ladies...

Problem: Personal freshness.

Solution: Panty Fresheners

Poise is known for their "wetness protection"  products, but I recently discovered something that most any women would be interested in: Poise Panty Fresheners. Most of us use sprays, douches, wipes, etc., but the "fresheners" are a nice addition to our arsenal! LOL ...The Fresheners are small round pads (about the size of a half-dollar coin) and thinner than a pantyliner. They come in a discreet screw-top case that can be tucked into a pocket or purse. Pull one out, remove peel & stick to outside of panty. The scent is mild and nice. (Side Note: Is is my Sarc or does spell-check really not recognize "panty" as a word???)

Problem: Serious personal freshness

Solution: Deo Candy Perfume 

This is a product of these guys. You eat the candy which infuses your body with sweetness the way garlic will infuse you with a sense of loneliness. You can see where to buy it here. Me? I dunno. I told a friend about it and her response was, "Why not just eat Secret?"

Problem: Finding Makeup for the differently complexioned

Soltuion: Several on-line/in-store locations...

Most over-the-counter makeup is not for those out of the range of common skin tones. This is only a big deal to me personally on a few occasions - like when I want to take photos or (now that I'm dating again) am going out somewhere with someone special, or when I'm having a really effed up hair day & want to draw attention elsewhere. At those times, I really want the right kind of makeup. I'm dark with red/yellow undertones. I have friends of all races who don't quite fit the standard Peach-to-Cocoa line of store products. That's tough. By the way, most makeup for darker women are for blue undertones. I go to cosmetic counters a couple times a year for 1) a decent lipstick/stain/gloss and 2) a comfortable foundation that doesn't make me look like I am wearing makeup. I run into the peach/pink or plum/orange-red crap and leave the store feeling like, "Can a sista get a break here?" Unless you are Beyonce/Halle or Naomi, finding OTC makeup for black women is a challenge and I know my sisters of other misters - white, Latina, Asian, etc - have the same problems. We've all heard of Black Opal, Mary Kay, Fashion Fair and Flori Roberts. Here a couple more places to check out (and don't let the ethnic names fool you; the there are a wide range of shades at each site):

• Becca - for women of any race/skin tone. They will even blend a shade for you. Use the contact form to send specific skin-tone info and a photo of yourself for help in discovering what's best for you.
• http://vasanticosmetics.com/ - they seem to have a nice range of blends and shades for women of Caucasian skin tones. Not a lot of versatility for foundations & eye products. I include them because of the lipsticks and skin care they offer.
• Black Radiance - not for me since they do the Plum lipcolor thing instead of a decent brick red - but the eyeshadows & foundations look really nice. (I have contacted them asking if they do samples.)
• blackUp - a French company with amazing colors. Foundations and other shades will work for anyone of a darker-beige shade to dark. The lips shades run from basic to funky. Check out the out of stock Forever Matte Gold or It Girl colors... Umm, umm, crazy. 
• Zhen Beauty - makeup for Asian skintones. People of different ethnic persuasions have the same undertones as Asians. The lipshades are nice, and they offer custom compacts for the mix-and-match fanatics. I just love that. (I know my Asian sisters feel me when I complain about the super-ethnic sounding names of the cosmetic sellers!)
• Iman Cosmetics - I like the whole "find your shade" option here. I won't add anything else about the site. I cringe as I add it here simply because I once met this woman and she was thoroughly unpleasant. (And, okay, I didn't meet her as in "for lunch and cocktails," but as part of a queue of folks when she did an appearance at a large mall. Let me tell you, beauty does not always make for a lovely personality!)

Anyway, there you go, ladies. Enjoy and I hope this helps when you do that next hunt for the perfect lipstick or foundation. Remember: the way you act shows your real beauty (or lack of). Go out and be as beautiful as you can.

Peace

--Free

(P.S., ladies - Fashion Fair has a nice range of lipsticks. I like the Femme Fatale color in the Siren Call line!)

Smoke and Snow

Winding up my first day on Chantix. Done with my first month of it really being winter. Hopefully, come spring, I will be smokefree, extra-pounds free and, please, oerish please, my Lord in Heaven, sweater-and-coat free!

I am making my New Year's wishes (not resolutions) early:

• To be back to work before the end of 2013
• To have mended any broken relationships
• To cherish each moment that I am healthy & Sarc-free
• To build on all the new friendships I am being blessed with everyday
• To live every moment as if it is my last: taking chances, risking ego for joy

Those are the things I am working on. For today & quite a few tomorrows (God willing), I am going to finish whipping this apartment into shape.

Peace
--Free

Sunday Randomness

Stayed up until 4:00 this morning (except it was really 3:00 because of time change) and was up at 8:00.

Ugh.

Feel half-stoned on fatigue, but wanted to post so... randomness:

• My skin's been addicted to Bio Oil for years. I currently have 5 1/2 bottles of the stuff. Why? Because with my Sarc (I guess), every time I go to the store, I forget that I have some at home. At least it's cheaper at Sam's Club, but comes with a large and a small bottle. Damn. Lot of oil.
• My fridge is full of fruit, Vanilla Soy milk, Vanilla Caramel coffee creamer and Fage yogurt. I'm trying to eat lighter now that one of the docs stepped down my prednisone. I am kind of ick of fruit at the moment.
• Pissed at myself for watching hours of "Beverly Hills Nannies" last night. That was a sloppy mess, but roomie and I laughed until we ached. Lack of sleep makes me silly.
• Feel stupid for watching hours of scary crap like "Paranormal Witness." (Not so stupid that I'm taking it off my Hulu "Favorites" list...)
• Filched some of the roomie's perfume because of the cute bottle. That's some nice smelling fragrance & I'll be damned if I can't read the smeared label. Going to have to 'fess up so I can get some of my own.
• Why did I never notice until a few days ago how absolutely smoking hot Eminem is? He seems very serious though.
• Laughing my ass off at this video & not wanting to offend anyone for their voting choices: 

                                                                                       C'mon, admit it, that's just funny, no matter how you vote. (By the way: DO go vote!)

• My roomie drives me crazy, not rinsing and putting her dishes in the dishwasher. We are incompatible as far as the "neat factor," but I love her like a sister. (If I didn't, I'd smother her in her sleep.)
• The nephew D.J. is learning to walk with his little push-toy. He's still to learn that wood floors are trickier than carpet for those strolls of his. Still missing the kid.
• Intrigued, fascinated, mesmerized by the Gwen & the band here:

The bass player is just killing it.

Okay. It's obvious that I am tired, so I'm going to stop the madness, make like I'm five years old and take a nap.

Peace

--Free

P.S.: For the voters out there, this is interesting, but please don't ask why I still read "Cracked."

Don't Call It a Comeback

What the hell. Call it what you want. I just feel way good with internet access restored.

It's been 3 weeks since I was able to post here. What a long time. So much happened that today is the first day my head isn't spinning just trying to keep up with things. Here are some of the thoughts I've had in the past few weeks:

• Moving is a bitch. Doesn't matter if you're moving three miles or thousands of miles. You are forced into a sort of "spring-cleaning" frenzy.
• I am a procrastinator. I have moved whole houses of stuff in less than 2 weeks for job moves. This time, it took me damn near a month to move stuff from one bedroom, one bathroom and a small storage space.
• Somewhere along the way in the past 5 years, I became a pack-rat of the first order. I found stuff I'd forgotten I owned. I kept most of the found stuff.
• Life never gives you one major change at a time; shit happens in piles (forgive that one).
• Once I finally got most of my stuff moved, I was notified of the death of a former co-worker/cousin-in-law. Damn.
• Death always catches you off guard - whether you expect it or not.
• I am more of a neat-freak than I thought. I can be kind of a bitch about keeping things clean and in order.
• With my Sarc condition, I need order. Without order, I can't find anything I need when I need it. Messiness depresses me.
• Living in an apartment is way different than living in a house. There are people you don't know and love making noises you don't want to hear and doing things you don't want to think about.
• Pro to apartment living: no shoveling, paying the handyman, worrying about anything but your own stuff. Another Pro: renters' insurance is probably the cheapest necessity I'm paying for.
• Con to apartment living: it's not a house.
• I miss my family even though they are just down the street. I really, really miss that little snotty, messy, loud-ass creature called D.J.:

• I dig my BFF as a roomie, except when she gets into one of her deep-blue moods. I have trouble enough trying to keep myself from sinking into the deep. Plus Side: we just avoid each other during those times.
• My cousin-in-law's death brought me to my knees in sadness and prayer and then more sadness, but it produced a gift. In contacting people to notify them of the tragedy, I strengthened ties with a "bestie" of almost 20 years. We had a girls'-only weekend during which I learned some important things.
• I never was much of a drinker and can count the times I got deeply wasted. 
• Friday night, I got so "deeply" wasted that the depth of the deepest ocean pales in comparison.
• There is a reason I don't never drank much and I remembered why on Saturday afternoon.
• My bestie and I have been great about not smoking - her for over three months and my last smoke over two months ago. Friday night we jumped off the wagon and stomped two fermented bottles of grapes. Oh, boy. I have to see both my docs within a couple weeks. ("CHANTIX, where are you???")
• I love the Tempur-Pedic adjustable bed. I hate my own bed now. Really, I do.
• When I do see the fam now, it gives me a very sweet and grateful feel way down in my soul. And when I walk in the door and yell, "Where's my Stinks?!" I get a big smile because of this:

I'm more blessed than I have a right to be.

Peace
--Free

Never Gonna Grow Up

My little brother really gets me. By that, I mean, he is the one person who best understands me. Strange brew.

We were talking on the phone the other day and he could hear my music playing in the background.

"You know why I love you, sis? Because you are the youngest old woman I know. And one of the strangest."

Well, damn. I could take that a lot of ways, huh?

Of my four best friends in this world (family excluded), only one of us always acts her age. The rest of us are stuck somewhere between having survived adulthood and making the rest of life as fun as we can. I can be good, bad, happy or sad. I can be old if I ever need to be and young when I want to be. After the hell my life was a few years ago, I have learned to be what I want to be at any given moment. I am a chameleon. God loves me just as I am so the rest of the world can just deal with it.

The BFF I am now living with is as crazy as I am. Wherever we go, we tend to meet people who notice us because we have fun. (I only hope that some of our laughter and love rubs off on them.) We can make a trip to Walmart look like a vacation. A local Village Inn is our hangout, but I am pretty sure that we should be getting paid as on-site entertainment. The other day, a really boring couple came in with their teen-aged kid. I swear, these people were having no conversation other than ordering their food. By the time my friend and I were getting ready to leave, the woman came over and gave us a hug because, "You guys seem to really enjoy life." (Maybe what she actually meant is that we are just too silly for words!)

I don't really care anymore what people think. Life is going to bring us enough worries, fears and tears; it's up to us to bring the joy.

By the way, what follows is the playlist of the CD my little brother overheard:

Yeah. Me and the BFF (in Alaska) sing along with all of these as we drive around.

It ain't right, but it's okay. Life is way too short.

Peace
--Free

Jonesing, Moving & Losing It

I am in serious withdrawals without my nephew DJ around. And I am slightly pissed off.

My niece and the baby were supposed to be home on Thursday, but... Bill Clinton is going to be in town there, soooo...

Yeah. My niece got tickets to go and see the former POTUS. Now, I have to be without my little Slobber Man for another few days.

I come over here to the house to Skype them every day. This was our fun just now when I called them up and yelled, "STINKS!!!"

~sigh~

That smile of his just melts me down to nothing! He also remembers how to wrinkle his nose & do his "something is stinky" face, but I didn't hit Screen Print fast enough to catch it.

I have told my niece that I don't care if she stays for another year, but I want Stinks home. Now. (Of course, she just had to go and remind me that I live a couple miles down the street now. And, of course, I reminded her that I am over here every day. At least until I get my internet hooked up...)

This next screen capture is proof of miracles. I sang DJ to sleep and his ears didn't melt. (Okay, "sing" might not be the word to use. Let's say that I croaked him to sleep! "Your Love Is My Love!!!")

"Please, Mommy, make Auntie Ya shut up!"

By the way...

This whole moving thing: the BFF and I are pros at getting not a damn thing done when we need to. I am still carting stuff over to the new place every day. I had 3 boxes of nothing but purses. Why? I have no idea. I barely have enough money at this point to need ONE purse!

I had a little bit of a meltdown the other day when one of my nephews didn't make it over on time to clean the carpets. And by "meltdown," I mean "pissy-hissy fit." (Still not all the way off the prednisone, so I have an excuse.)

The new place needs decorating big-time. At least we have a full fridge. When I get depressed, I have at least 6 healthy choices of food & snack. Oh, and I have plenty of clothes. PLENTY. (There is something to be said for being a rabid shopper when you do have the funds. I had the funds at one time, thank heavens, because no matter how broke I get, I will be dressed to kill. Oh, and it helps that some of these "predni-pounds" are starting to come off. Let the Church say, "Amen!")

I should have all my stuff at the new place before the week is out. Meantime, I am loving the BFF more and more everyday. We are trying to figure out why we didn't do the roommate thing before now; that might have saved me doing something stupid - like marrying the one guy in the world I shouldn't have been with 5 feet of. That's another story, so..

Just so you all know: I miss blogging, I miss your emails, and I will be back soon as I can.

Peace
--Free

Before I Met Him

This is my little "Stinky-boo."

Story behind pic: Auntie Kat gave him a fruit-filled smoothie. The result was a very un-lovely diaper!

He and his mommy are visiting the Arizona fam so that they can all meet him before his upcoming first birthday.

This is me:

:-(

Miss that little booger & just praying that he doesn't start walking before he gets back home!

This is for Stinks.

(Auntie misses you, D.J.!)

Peace
--Free

Funny Man

Not a lot of time for posting - what with the packing and all, but...

This is a columnist I discovered while reading a newspaper (online) and I had to share. He is so funny. Check him out & enjoy!

Danny Katz

Peace
--Free

Laughing or Crying

I saw this on G+ and really hesitated posting it, but it's so dang funny, I had to. For one thing, the story is just straight out of nowhere. Next, the lady telling the story is so hilarious - or psycho, or describing herself, or lying - pick one. Finally, if I was able to keep a straight face while listening to the story, I'd still fall to pieces every time I saw the expression on the other lady's face. The BFF and I must've replayed this 5 times and it just got worse and worse.

People, people - especially my sister femmes: we have GOT to do better...




Peace
--Free

Something I'm Sharing

No real post; I just want to share with you something I saw this morning:

I Hate Moving...

... so much!

Really, I do. I hate leaving the old place (packing, re-packing, loading up that crap to a truck); I hate getting to the new place (cleaning, painting, un-loading, un-packing); and I just flat out hate change of any kind - even the good kind, and this is the good kind.

Right now, I am one miserable bitch to be around.

My bedroom looks like a storage unit burped and blew up. I can't get packed because when I do get something into a box, I need it twenty seconds later. I'm having to throw out and give things away because I just refuse to move all this stuff. On top of it all, I'm a little depressed because I notice now that I have clothes in three sizes: 4, 6, 14. (Okay, four sizes, but I'm not telling anymore.)

Best part of all of this? I am only moving 2 miles down the road. I'm not ever going far from my family again.

~sigh~

You all know me by now: I can make a mountain out of a two grains of sand and a drop of procrastination...

The BFF I will be roomies with is all excited. Of course she is - she doesn't have to move all her stuff. She has offered to come over and help, but I am trying to have her save her energy for the painting we are going to do. Oh, and the moving of the bed and other pieces of furniture. heh heh. Besides, we'd end up looking at every piece of clothing and doing fashion critiques worthy of Ms. Wintour (or Mr. Blackwell!).

I do thank God (seriously) that I have The World's Best Family. My sister is motivating me ("You have 22 days. That's plenty of time." "You have 17 days." "You lazy heffa, you! You only have 12 days...") One nephew is going to help us paint, another one is going to do the moving (with the first nephew) and clean the carpets in the new place. My niece in North Carolina has been soothing me ("Just breathe, Auntie. I moved across country with 4 weeks notice. You got this.") The niece I live with is being so patient and sweet as I tear her house and garage and storage apart, looking for all my stuff. I locked her beloved (pain in my ass) dog in the garage the other day while I had the front door propped open so I could trot between storage and house for an hour. I also broke a shelf in her pantry while I was getting my pots and pans down... She's probably counting the hours til I'm out of here, but she gets all teary-eyed and says she's going to miss me! Her husband thought that pantry shit was funny, but he didn't laugh while she could hear him. (And, just for the record: no one here is going to miss me much because my ass will be right over here every day to see my sister and the baby!!!)

Am I dealing with this? Yes, but not very well. I get so overwhelmed  by the least little thing anymore. I  am calming myself with the following facts (here goes one of my lists):

• I'm about 5 minutes away (3 if the BFF is driving).
• I will be here to visit every other day or so.
• My darling little nephew, D.J., will be over to spend some nights with me. (Kidnap style!)
• My BFF is part of the fam so she is going to be sneaking over here as much as I will.
• As soon as all this pack/move b.s. is over, I'm going to invite Mr. Malibu Rum over so we can have a really long chat.

It's all good. Change is hard, but it happens. I am just now thinking of a really cute posting I saw on G+: "Life...Some Assembly Required." (I really need a t-shirt with the saying I came up with: "Life - this side UP.")

Whatever. Just think of me and know that this is what I look like when I am staring at this mess of unpacked stuff:

I wish I could snap my fingers or crack my toes and have this shit just all freaking done. Ain't gonna happen, so let me get my lazy ass up from this laptop and get back to packing. Please miss me while I am gone from the blog!

Peace
--Free

Speaking Of Cars

I don't usually pay too much attention to vehicles. I've ridden in the best and I've ridden on ones where the door was held shut with tow-rope (not kidding). I don't care much what a car looks like as long as it runs and can handle these Alaskan roads.

My mother used to say that a poor ride beats a proud walk any day. Mama didn't see the Lexus SX350 I sat in last week or the Honda Pilot that I fell so in love with that I named it "Rosemary."



The Lexus (which I always thought of as a Toyota with a different symbol) was only so much fun because of the gadgets. To tell you how simple I can be, for about 10 minutes I sat and played with the button that opens a cupholder. Yeah, I am a gadget slut.

Don't like the color, not crazy about the car, but, damn - that cupholder!

"Rosemary"

Isn't she beautiful?

~sigh~

Peace
--Free

I Grew A Spine, But It Hurt

So... The local BFF talked me into going car shopping with her. She just wanted a little company while she scoped out deals and such. I gave her a little more than she asked for, but I think she is happy.

Understand that car salesmen work on commission. That's Number One. Number Two: salesmen are not the most up front people on the planet. Now, I am not saying that car salesmen lie, but they know how to hold back. No, fuck it, they lie.

My friend (after checking out about 6 cars) decided to be in love with a Ford Fusion. Funny thing is, we found nothing good at the Ford lot, but we found the Fusion over at Dodge. We also found salesmen on the hustle for every nickel they could get. That is where I grew a spine.

The BFF explained what her bank approved her for and admitted that she was willing to throw in her Permanent Fund Dividend. The salesman said that might not be enough. I called him on his bullshit. He went and got the Manager. As if I'd think shit smells better from a different ass.

"I'd like to let you have it for that, but I won't make any money that way." That was Lie One from the gorgeous Sales Manager.

Okay.

Understand that my BFF is one of the nicest people born into this world. She is sweet, funny, generous, open-hearted... And she has no freaking backbone. (I didn't walk in with one. Matter of fact, we'd mainly gone to that dealership because they are having a drawing for winning 3 extra Permanent Fund Dividends.)

Even though I was just tagging along, I couldn't stand it when the salesmen started holding that Fusion hostage over a measly $250. My friend had laid all her cards on the table - which is such a huge mistake when dealing with salesmen. They knew too much about her at this point. They knew that her current car was about to blow a head gasket (whatever the hell that is); they knew that she was very worried about going into winter without some kind of reliable vehicle; they knew what she had from her bank and maybe they thought she could come up with a little more. Ojh, and they knew that she had fallen in l.o.v.e. with the Fusion. (It's the right color, is known for good gas mileage - and it has a bang-ass stereo. This is all very important to the BFF, especially the stereo. Lord, help her. ~sigh~)

Oh, and let me talk about this car for a moment. It had just landed on the lot. There were at least 7 minor appearance flaws and a couple of safety issues I spotted right off. The car was filthy - as if the former owner had a bunch of kids or a couple of pet monkeys - and we had no idea what was going on under the hood. The test drive went great though, so my friend was happy.

Once they had my friend salivating, the salesmen stopped bargaining at a price just a tad out of her reach. ("And I'd just love to see you drive out of here in it, but...")

I got pissed. At the salesmen for the creepy attempt to get another $250 out of the deal, and at my BFF for sitting there with tears of desire in her eyes.

Thank GOD for my brother, J. That man is just stone cold, bad to the bone when it comes to negotiating. I've watched him work. I've seen him reduce other men to tears across bargaining table. I used to watch him working a deal and think, "What an asshole!" Now I am glad that I sat at the feet of a Master. Brother told me once that the best way to handle any negotiation is to keep the other person off balance. "Be what they don't expect, do what they aren't looking for, and hold your ground."

I looked like a wimp on this particular day. Hell, I felt like a wimp. I loathe car shopping and car salesmen. So I got an attitude and asked the salesman if he was seriously going to let a customer walk out the door over a stinking $250. He stared at me. I stared at him. He blinked. Then he left to get his Manager. (I took the chance to call my nephew because he knows about cars. Gave him the price and a rundown and got his advice: that's a great car and great deal so jump on it! Maybe ask for a year-long warranty.)

Back came our salesman with his manager. Oh, hot damn that Sales Manager is fine. Just pure deliciousness. He even has a sexy name, but I'm not telling.

I went into heat for about five seconds before I remembered that my friend really wanted this car.

The  Sales Manager repeated what the Salesman had said about not being able to go a penny lower. I repeated my line about letting a customer walk. The Sales Manager stared at me. I stared at him, but had to stop because my hormones were turning happy cartwheels. I looked at the Salesman and my hormones calmed down.

I asked the men how they felt about beating the hell out of my friend over $250 when they knew they were going to make SO much more money off someone coming in to buy that hot ass and brand new Durango sitting out there on the showroom floor. (Do you know what a fully loaded Durango goes for these days? Damn.)

Mr. Gorgeous tried to tell me that what one customer does makes no difference in the case of another customer. Next he tried telling me that he had no idea what it was going to cost him to bring the Fusion up to safety; he would know only after they ran it through their checks.

I did a lot of nodding (and kicking my friend under the table to get her to stop leaking tears) and pretended to be sympathetic to the plight of poor salesmen everywhere.

The Sales Manager tells me that he' stuck. He'd like to help my friend out, but...

I avoided looking directly at that gorgeous man (because he was really starting to piss me off), and I channeled my brother.

I called both salesmen liars and told them that they could keep their damn Fusion (okay, I said something worse than "damn"). I reminded them that this car was coming with a cheap ass 3-month warranty and no guarantee that it would be running by New Year's Eve. I said they were going to go to Hell for the lie about not making more money off other deals, and I think I cursed once or twice (okay, I cursed a lot), then I told my friend to get her coat because we were leaving. I started reminding her that we could always get my nephew to take us to the auctions.

Have you ever noticed that salesmen have this thing they do where they try to keep you on their turf? I mean, they can't bullshit you out of your money if you get up and leave, right?

The Manager stopped us before we got to the door. He nicely asked my friend to come back, come back, so they could maybe work something out. He also mumbled something about me being "a little aggressive." (As if I have eff to give about what he thinks of me.)

After about another thirty minutes of a game of Who's Gonna Blink First, we struck a deal. The guys agreed to let my friend put a refundable "Hold" deposit on the car until after the safety check. If the repairs weren't going to be outrageous, then she could have the car for the price she wanted; if not, she could walk away clean.

I wanted to kill my friend because she was sitting there just ready to go out and sell ass or something for the $250. The Manager mumbled something about my attitude, but the Salesman dropped me a wink.

When we'd put up the deposit and walked out of that place, I was ready for a drink, some crack and a big piece of anything chocolate. My friend was doing a little jig because she was sure she was going to get this car. I told her that the Manager really wasn't so fine after all; he mumbles too damn much. I also told her that she was going to get her Fusion. The only reason for the delay was so the Manager could save face.

My friend called me this morning. She got the car.

Peace
--Free

(P.S.: Hope this post is coherent. Had an infusion today & feel just a little bit crappy!)