About Me

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No matter how far along I get in life, I'll always refer to myself as "That chick that grew up poor in the drug-filled streets of Port Arthur, Texas." Always a bad ass!

Right now, I'm going through a top-down transformation. I'm starting with my hair - taking it from processed to natural; and so far I'm loving it. Get updates on my process on newtonatural.com.

Friday, December 7, 2012

I actually don't think about weight loss, ever

Am I in the minority?


I LOVE the way I look!

Big breast, round ass, full cheeks. I LOVE IT ALL. Why wouldn't I?

In an interview about Anne Hathaway's Les Miserable driven haircut and weight loss, she said, "I’m a girl. Lets face it, we think about losing weight all the time.”

Hmmmmm. I don't agree. WE don't think about losing weight at all. WE love ME. LOL.

No, seriously. ME DO.

As a teenager, I was pretty miserable. I weighed about 85 pounds when I entered into high school. I had full breasts, because they just dominate my genetic pool, but nothing else. My aunt nicknamed me "Bones," and I caught every skinny joke ever written. All I could think about was how badly I needed to thicken up. And all the things that were really wrong with me.

I guess as I've grown into the person I am, I've just learned to look at life differently. EVERYONE has something about themselves that they want to improve upon. Or at least, they should. And the people that have the largest amount are the people that tend to be in the group that constantly tease you about the stuff that makes you insecure.

See the haters for who they are. Insecure, insignificant people looking for a win by tearing apart someone they perceive to be of the weaker variety. They're everywhere.

Walk tall.

Be proud.

Know that you're beautiful!

BECAUSE YOU ARE!!!!!!!!



Monday, November 19, 2012

How Twinkies' outcry reveals America's lack of discipline

There are A LOT of overweight people in my family.

Don't get me wrong. They are NICE people who would help a stranger if asked. They are all good-hearted people who want to see everyone do well. They are GOOD people. But when it comes to food, sometimes they make bad decisions in selection, preparation, and Oh Lawd quantity.


I struggle each day to make sure I make healthy decisions, so that I don't have to deal with early onset of diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease. I beat myself up sometimes when I drink a 100 calorie Lipton tea instead of water.

I've never had a problem with my weight, but it's because I'm conscious of what I'm carrying around in my genes.

Even outside of my family, it's so CRAZY that with the rampant rate of obesity in the United States, there would be so many people upset about the end of Hostess Twinkies.

According to Wikipedia, a single Twinkie contains 2.5 grams of saturated fat, representing 13% of the recommended daily intake of saturated fat based on a 2,000 calorie diet. It is 42% sugars, 21% complex carbohydrates and 11% fat by weight.

C'mon guys! We've GOT to do better! That is, if we want to be around to create that great legacy we have envisioned for our kids.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Strong women should not crush weaker women: How do you do it?

I use to have a job that had a lot of prestige. . a great title. . offered me a great opportunity. But the lady I worked for cared more about making a dollar than she did about the people who worked for her. She would give you feedback that was honest, but it cut like a knife.

I learned so much from that lady about running a business. . taking ownership of a product. . adhering to a scope. . providing quality work. . getting work done on time and under budget.

But when I left that company, I promised myself that I would not be a leader who crushes the women around her.

Fast forward to today:

Everyone who works with me knows that I'm all about the process:

- First you do this.
- Then you do this.
- Then you do this.
- You do it all on time and on budget.
- Then you report on how what you did made a difference.

THE END.

This was not the first time I made one of my co-workers cry. But this time hurt ME. This co-worker is a female, but she's not a Chicken Little. She comes in every day and works hard. She believes in how important it is to end hunger and poverty and empower women. She is my daughter. She is me awhile back. She's a woman doing her best in a world ruled by men.

And without trying, I became my previous employer. I was honest, but that was all. I crushed my co-worker. I SAW the tears.

I apologized. But I have to work on me.

I have a daughter that I raise to respect all people; especially other women.

How do you do it?

I've learned that strong women intimidate weaker women, and tears are the result. But I want to be the one that uplifts ALL women, so that we can all be strong.

How do you do it? I don't know. I continue to pray about this.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

What a Mother Teaches Her Daughter

I've always said that I don't want to be my daughter's friend. She's in college now, and nothing's changed.

- We're never EVER gonna be club pals. Hellllllll nawwwwwwwwwww!
- She's not gonna be able to be around me cussing up a storm.
- We won't get matching tattoos.
- Yes and No Ma'am will never become an outdated way of replying to my questions.
- I'm not going to hit her up for money when I blow through mine, or expect her to cover me on my bills.
- We will not date out of the same pool of guys.
- She can't ever hurt my feelings, and make me turn my back on her.
- No one will enter a room and catch us in a fist-fight.
- She's not going to be the one I call up when I need to vent about getting my heart broken.
- We won't enter a pact to get pregnant or give birth at the same time.


I love her. I've loved this child since all I knew about her was how sharp her elbows were because she had positioned herself in my belly in a way that projected those suckers into my rib cage. And because I love this child DEEPLY in a way that can never ever end, I will walk the walk and talk the talk and be someone she can always be proud of.

I will make good decisions so I can always be in a position to hold her up when the world tries to knock her off her feet.

So, my life will forever be focused on teaching my daughter life lessons:

- How beautiful she is inside and out.
- All the reasons she is SO love-able.
- How to keep things that hurt her from destroying her.
- Why family is so important.
- How to stand on her own two feet.
- Who to turn to when it seems like there's no one in her corner. (GOD)
- How important it is to know when to stay and when to go.
- That it's OK to fall down as long as she loves yourself enough to get up and keep it moving.
- Why she shouldn't waste energy on trying to make everyone happy.
- How I know that EVERY good thing comes from God.

My Momma did it for me. She RAISED me, and never stopped. Sometimes, I was a real spoiled brat, but she never did anything to tear me down. She RAISED ME. So now when I think of her I don't have a bunch of silliness clouding the vision of who she was.

A FUNNY, HARDWORKING, STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, SMART, LOVING, PASSIONATE, FORGIVING, GOD-FEARING MOTHER.

I know it's an old school concept, but it's one I've grown to love. Be a Mother to your daughter, so when she needs the experience, wisdom, and love you have to give, she always knows where to turn.

Sometimes, I have to glance back at an essay my daughter wrote, that reminds me of what she sees. http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-wow-what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this.html

Monday, August 20, 2012

Paris, the Escape Artist: Dumb Dog don't do that!

I am so sick of this damn dog, but I think I've got him this time.

I've spent about 15 hours in the heat over the last month repairing the gate on my side yard because my 9 year old RAT terrier, Paris, keeps squeezing his little butt through the fence and terrorizing my neighbors (yards) and their dogs.

I was so fed up with it at one point, I decided, Whatever! He can run amuck all he wants. But then, I observed him for about 15 good minutes pooping in the yards of about 5 different retired neighbors, then riling up their fenced in dogs. I knew I had to do something.

In 101 degree weather, I took my stool, tools, and sweat towel outside, near the area where he had created ANOTHER hole just big enough to push his butt through. TWO HOURS I toiled. . and sweated. . until I completely re-threaded the stupid fence. ou Do you know how HARD that is? Now, I'd done this exercise about 5 times this week (for about 30 minutes per try), so I had to spend another 30 minutes hidden in the bushes in the front yard, sweating profuselyobserving the dumb dog to see if he could get out.


Nope! VICTORY IS MINE!

I successfully fixed the fence, so when we sentence the dog to the backyard to do his poop and pee. . which by the way he does at the fence line and covers it so you can never see or smell it when you're on his turf. . he remains in the back yard.

That is until the boys, my two beautiful sons, go out to play and leave the door open; which allows him to escape AGAIN.. EVERY FRIGGIN DAY.

Now, that's a battle for another day.

This is another episode of God's Humor brought to you my me. . who tends to catch the punch lines.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Keep saying good morning, CHICKEN LITTLE

I HAVE to develop patience for the Chicken Littles of the world. Because they've never experienced the really big shit, they over react about EVERY little thing that happens over the course of a day.

You forget to greet them in the morning. They upset. If someone doesn't hold the door so they can enter a building. They offended. If you don't do everything exactly as they think you should, well they are downright annoyed.

You know 'em. You see them all the time.


-- They've never been really poor. And I'm referring to the poor of my childhood. Couldn't afford (or experience) lunch outside of the free variety I got at school. No medical insurance, dental, life insurance. Lights off at random. Long bouts without hot water because Momma couldn't afford the parts, pipes, or hell the water heater. Keep in mind that when you catch yourself referring to the poor, many times Chicken Littles think that they have been poor because they probably have never met someone who was really poor, so they can't even picture what you're talking about.
HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES: They often times say things that are completely insensitive of the fact that there are many people who don't have and may never have the opportunity to get a higher education, own a home, pay off a car, go on a real vacation.

-- They don't have kids, so they don't really have a clue about what it takes to be connected on that level to another human being because you gave that person life. For some reason, Chicken Littles always have parenting advice. "Just ignore it." "Let them go through this stage." "Put them in timeout."
HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES: They complain about parents who have to stay home with their kids, bring their kids to work, discipline their kids in public. Or cancel on something because of their kids. Or even better, they constantly refer to their pet as their child.

-- They have never been married, but are convinced that they are READY. . probably because of some family they've seen on TV that they have envisioned could be them once they tie the knot. They know EXACTLY the type of person they're waiting for because they've spent countless hours day dreaming about that "perfect" person that will wear armor, ride in on a white horse, and sweep them off their feet.
HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES: Just listen. You can't miss it. They are the ones spouting off about what they wouldn't tolerate out of a spouse. And always starting sentences with "When I get married. . "

- - They've never really experienced loss. They probably have both parents still living, and are pretty well insulated from the end results of living in a family that couldn't afford health insurance because all their folks are healthy. The weird thing is that they are probably NOT healthy. The end results of being so protected is a little invincibility, so they probably over-indulge in food, or drugs, alcohol, sex, or some other irresponsible behavior.
HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES: Depending on their tool for over-indulgence, it may be a few things.. Be creative.

Now, I don't think Chicken Littles are bad. Ignorance is not bad; it's bliss. . But just keep on saying "Good Morning," like Momma use to say.

One day even the most green Chicken Littles lose a job or income, have a child, get married, lose a couple of folks that are the cornerstones of their existence. . and then their eyes a

Thursday, July 12, 2012

I always feel like somebody's watching me

When I get all dressed up and arrive for an interview, I know that the employer who is sitting across from me knows some very intimate details about my life, including:

- I have 3 kids that I LOOOOOOVE
- I'm a certifiable news junkie. . especially when it comes to international news.
- My drink of choice is a glass of wine.
- I classify myself as a Christian, but I have a pretty "colorful" vocab nonetheless.
- I love my job at Heifer International. (Which is weird if I find myself at a job interview, right?)
- I often travel.
- I attract stalkers. One of which is a serious flower sender.
- I tend to listen to R&B music. Usually ole school.
- I'm intense. When I love you, I love you. When I hate you. . you're pretty much invisible.


Sometimes I get pisst off, and want to cuss out everyone on Facebook. [Yes, everyone. Even you.] But I know people are watching. . or will. Sometimes, I have a blast at the club and want to upload a video on YouTube to let everyone know what I wore, and what I did and who. . [Well, you get where I'm going with this one]. But I know people are watching. . or will. Sometimes, the people at work make me SO mad because they do something that throws me off my game, and I want to just pour a long string of expletives into a Tweet to let them know they can *#%@&! off. But I know people are watching. . or will.

Don't get me wrong. Noone is gonna follow me on Twitter, friend me on Facebook, or subscribe to me on YouTube, and think, "Wow! Anasthia deserves to be endowed with Sainthood." Ha! But wouldn't that be a trip if they did?? LOL

But you should know that I know that when you put it in the Digital Universe it's out there. You can decide that you don't feel that way 10 seconds after publishing it, and it's still out there. You can completely morph into another personality over the course of 5, 10, 15 years, and that crap is STILL out there. . waiting for someone to find. . and read. . and judge you for the way you felt in one single moment in time.. and were stupid enough to capture ONLINE.

If you don't believe it, check out this CNN article.

Yeah, I always got back up.

My point is that things are hard enough out there. The unemployment rate in the US is 8.1%. So, there are folks that are hitting the employment office, watching the paper, searching online to find that good, OK, crappy job you have. If you don't want it quit. But don't GIVE it away. . along with the check that comes with it by doing some stupid ish online. Don't forget, Somebody's watching you, too.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Three Stalkers are Enough

Every day, men prove to me that not only do women have men wrong, but men have men wrong. I don't think one man can ever really predict what another man would do. And I better NEVER hear another man saying what he will NEVER do.

NEVER. HA!

Here's the deal. I LOVE challenges. I kinda have an addiction for them.

I DON'T WANT A PLAYER. I DON'T WANT A "HANDS ON" WOMAN BEATER. I DON'T WANT A F'ING LIAR. I DON'T WANT A LAZY BUM. I JUST want a challenge.

I just want a man who knows how to walk like a man and not expect me to write a list of stuff he has to do from the time he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep. SHIT!

Give me some attention, but don't try to move in within the first 3 months.

Check on me sometimes, but 12 text messages and 5 phone calls in a day. . REALLY?? You ain't got shit else to do?

Go out with your friends - be respectful of the fact that you got a gem - but don't feel like you have to be glued to my side like a suckling infant. I HATE that!

When it comes to men, what I get is men who want to spend every second of every damn day with me. They will break the bank and go crazy, so that I don't have a complaint. They will abandon friend and family, so they can spend all of their time attending to my needs.

But guess what? You're gonna love this. I HATE that!

I like my space, I'm actually fairly frugal, I'm gonna have something to say about stuff just because I'm opinionated, and I need elbow room. Not a lot, but shit!

I know what will happen. Men will read this blog post and think I'm cocky or that I'm looking for an asshole who won't even open the door. I'm not. Sorry.

Even better, I am never and will not start looking. . EVER. I believe that if it's meant for me to find, God will send it to me.

But if I end up with another stalker, I'm retiring from the Love Game FOREVER. I just can't do it any more. . Forget Eight is Enough. THREE is ENOUGH!!

Taking a break. . a long break. to figure out where ya girl is going wrong.

I can't take another stalker. Or another ex who does not respect the breakup rules.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

I love my job - I'd hate to be POTUS

Don't get me wrong. Some days are ROUGH at Heifer International's headquarters. I come in behind on deadlines, get a bunch of new work piled on me, am pulled into a million directions that change constantly, and often leave late after accomplishing very little. It can be VERY frustrating.

The mission is SO huge AND noble: ending hunger and poverty and caring for the Earth. After growing up so poor with little access to opportunity for higher education to even inspire the thought that things will get better, I'm just connected to the organization and what we do. I basically shrug off the (majority of the) stress and come in the next day determined, yet again, to make a difference.

I know I'm not a roofer or ditch digger working in 100 degree weather, or a police man, firefighter, or soldier risking my life for others, or a teacher trying to educate your disrespectful children. I'm not crying about how hard my job is.

You should know that I have been the McDonald's drive thru worker, day care worker, and customer service rep in the call center, so I've got some diversity in my work history. You better believe that! I have had folks cuss me out, hang up on me, throw food at me. Hell, the restaurant I worked at was stuck up one time by a guy with a gun!

That ain't shit!


No matter how hard I try, I can't think of a job that's rougher than what Barrack Obama is dealing with in his role as President of the United States. I mean, Wow!

Republicans are determined to block all of his efforts at improving the country. The undercover racist folks are now crawling out of the shadows. Of course, they group together under names like "Tea Party" and such, but sometimes you've got to call a Spade a Spade. {Yeah, I know it kills them to be referenced as a Spade, but it works.} Close-minded people - the true haters - who have determined that God doesn't love gays, or women who use birth control, or people who want equal rights to health care and/or education - don't miss an opportunity to put a finger in his face, question the origins of his birth, or just load money into Super PACs that are focused on defeating him. Shit, they do everything short of calling him the N-word. . at least in public.

I feel for the man. I really do. But today, he received a small win thanks to the Supreme Court (SCOTUS ) upholding his Health Care bill (aka Obamacare).

http://www.cnn.com/2012/06/28/politics/supreme-court-health-ruling/index.html?hpt=hp_t1

Congratulations President Obama. You got my vote in November.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Life is short and then you die. .don't be miserable in the meantime

Sometimes we find ourselves in relationships that we know that we know that we know that we are not supposed to be in. I mean, ALL the signs are there. But you just have a hard time reading them because they are either really sporadic, increase gradually, or there are just SO many that you just can't believe a problem and solution would be so. . well. . OBVIOUS.

Well, sometimes it's easy. And I'm gonna give you the signs that I've learned from my own life.

Here are the warning signs that you should un-choose your mate IMMEDIATELY.

1. You hate the way your partner smells: pre-bath, post-bath, during a bath, or all of the mentioned time slots.
2. When your partner kisses you, you find yourself immediately wiping the kiss off with the back of your hand, brushing your teeth, flossing, soaping your face, then showering.
3. You determine that you hate the way your partner dresses, and resolve to address the issue by avoiding being seen in public with him.
4. It makes you cringe when your partner does any of the following: calls your name, touches you, looks at you, or enters the room.
5. Your partner's sleeping and awake sounds are equally annoying.
6. You feel like answering a phone call or text from your partner should be reserved for emergencies, national holidays, or his birthday.
7. The stuff that you use to think was sweet is now just creepy: all them damn flowers, phone calls, conversations, gifts, pet names.
8. You identify a few distinct patterns that you and your partner use to interact with one another: polite, public, labored, or angry
9. The thought of being left alone with your partner causes you to avoid going home.

Now, if your signs include a black eye, swollen lip, cut tires, or a general fear of violence from this fool, please forget about looking for any additional signs. You were not born into this world to be some crazy person's punching bag. Get a damn clue and RUN!!!!

For those of you that have a strong family unit, you gonna get some push back when you try to un-choose and bail. Don't even take it personal.

Your family wants to see you settle down and live the American dream, and they truly want to believe that your current partner can help you accomplish that. They are gonna tell you "Stick it out." "Hang in there." "It's not THAT bad." "It will get better." "Nothing's perfect."

Yeah ok.

But life is short. . Real short. . And Sometimes being by yourself is the most obvious choice. . At least until God sends you what he wants you to have.

Quick Update from 1/7/13.
. . and then I exited the long, dark tunnel. . and saw that the sun was shining. Life is indeed good again.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Oh *#%@&! You just can't be cussing around here!

I mean, seriously?!

The residents of Middleborough, Massachusetts voted to outlaw cussing?
http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2012/06/12/massachusetts-town-puts-20-fine-on-profanity/?hpt=hp_bn1

Well, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn! Ooops.

Momma did say if you can't say anyhing nice, don't say anything at all. I guess by outlawing cussing, they also outlawed noise, too.

I think that's some bull *#%@&!

Monday, June 4, 2012

Where NOT to buy bootleg DVD's


. . at the swap meet in the parking lot.

Yeah, that kinda kills the build up huh? Yeah, I know, but keep reading. . you wanna know why not, right?

So, I'm in Maryland at the Swap Meet. . doing it up like a professional: scoping out every store before I make a selection, looking all snobby so the vendor does not think I'm interested, haggling over everything from clothes to shoes to accessories. Yeah, I grew up at the Houston (Texas) swap meet. I know what I'm doing.

I didn't buy a lot. I just couldn't find enough to justify the $27 bag check fee at the airport. (Yes, I was building that into the cost of most of the items I was looking at). So, when I stepped into the parking lot after my little shopping venture was done, I was still up by a few bills.

When I walked outside some lady walks up to me and the group I was with and asked if we wanted to buy some CD's or DVD's. Yeah, I thought I was done, but CD's/DVD's are little. Even if I bought a dozen, I could stuff them in my suitcases, so this would be an at cost purchase.

I was open to the thought. I mean, how bootleg can bootleg CD's/DVD's be, right?

Good question. So, let me answer that for you.

So, the lady who gets our attention, and a little girl who I was not completely sure who she belonged to, walked the group I was with over to a van. The van door opened. And I swear I was wondering how a low-end van had the little push button door slide when it happened. (It didn't). A man with a beard appeared seated in the back of the van, with one of those baseball game peddler pitches. {No, not the pitch that happens on the field. The one the guy with the hot dog cart has when he yells out, "Get your hot, roasted peanuts!"} But this guy was calling out big movie names. "I got your Snow White. Got PLENTY of Prometheus. Get at me for the Men in Black 3. I even got the 3D."

He had eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeverything in a cardboard box between his legs. They all looked like production house quality, with the really good covers that showed the actual movie title and scenes you'd see beside the movie theater marquee.

I was like shit! Forget about spending 50 bucks on a movie night. I'm coming in ahead of my swap meet trip and my next weekend plans. This is wassup.

Right? Mmmmmmmm, right. But stay with me here.

While the Bootleg Movie Vendor is doing his hot dog cart guy voice, the little girl approaches me and hands me a little slip of paper. "That's my Daddy's business card." She had written his name and phone number across little slips of paper she tore up to support her Daddy, the Bootleg Movie Vendor. Yeah, it was cute, touching, ghetto. . all that. I giggled, but this is my people right here. I'm STILL not surprised.

I beat the guy down for the price. . not enough. . and was content with 3 titles I got. I ain't saying which ones in case the feds Google and turn up this post. (IJS).

Anyway, I get home from my DC trip and finally settle down to watch my 3 bootleg DVD's. . and you know. . YOU know. . YOU KNOW!

I'm watching as dude opens his jacket after the opening credits. Middle Eastern subtitles are at the bottom of every screen. Every few minutes, some shadowy figure walks across the movie screen, the recorder's phone rings, or he puts his hand over the camera because the usher (who also walks across the movie screen) appears.

Typical ghetto bootleg craziness.

Yeah, I could've gotten this quality from the barber shop, or the hair store, or at the liquor store in the neighborhood where I could hunt Bootleg Movie Vendor down, tell him how sorry the copy was, negotiate for another movie for free, and act like I'm offended by the quality of a $4 flick.

But I wouldn't have gotten the experience. Shit, I STILL don't really know if the movie was good. But me and Baby Girl got a kick out of watching the production. We got exposed to shit you can't get for $50. . at least not by choice.





Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Why Punish the Good Kids: The High Price of Education

I'm so pisst off with the way this country is treating good kids.

At the point when the economy is crappy, government programs are scaling back, bullying is at an all-time high, and I'm just gonna say it, society ethics is at an all time low, there are still some really great kids out there that are trying to do the right thing: get a college degree.

You'd think that a black female teenager who received some much better than decent grades, excelled in extracurricular activities, and didn't cause trouble, would be encouraged to be all she could be. But NOPE.

Student loan rates are about to soar, thanks to the insanity of political party warfare that's going on in Congress. This is basically politics at its worse.

Companies that were once offering financial assistance have had to scale back because of this really fucked up economy.


This is the atmosphere around the class of 2012 graduation. My daughter, Erica, is a graduate. And the whole sad state of the world is highlighted for me right now and it makes me SO damn sick!

I'm gonna do what I have to do to give baby girl the opportunities she needs to make it out there. I will NOT let the world. . or the system have my child. She is smart, caring, outgoing, beautiful, and MINE.

I just pray that people wake up. Register to vote. Read. Pay attention to what's going on in politics and government. You don't have to run for an office, but dammit be involved because one day you too are going to need this mess to make sense just like I do. . but who knows.

Friday, May 11, 2012

I've Come to Grips with being Perfectly Imperfect

I'm a grown up now. And I don't measure my growth by my age. Hell, I would've rung the bell 18 years ago if that was the gauge, but nah. . I just reached this plateau. I'm new grown.

I've learned the lesson Momma couldn't teach, and Daddy couldn't force, and Siblings couldn't share: I'm happy just being me: perfectly imperfect.

I'm spiritual, nurturing,impatient, beautiful, smart, bossy, FUNNY, loving, honest, stubborn, transparent, caring, sarcastic, headstrong, tough as nails, forgetful, opinionated, cocky, active, adventurous, curious, extremely picky. . I could go on. But you get where I'm going. I'm a mixed bag.

And I love that about me.

  • I love the fact that God sent a wordsmith to Port Arthur, TX, so people could tease me about how proper I spoke; and that I was still arrogant enough to emphasize words all the more just to spite the haters.
  • I love the fact that my family was poor, so instead of playing games systems, and watching TV, getting our hair and nails "did," we played together, talked, took care of one another, and bonded.
  • I love the fact that I've gone through some shit that would've ran others crazy. . but that I'm still sharp as razor blades (Yeah, that's better than nails). . and smiling.
  • I love the fact that I don't look like what I've been through, so my confidence is often mistaken for vanity because a stranger could easily assume that someone somehow made life easier for me instead of the reality that I've fought, worked, and prayed for EVERYTHING I've received.
  • I even love the fact that God gave eternal peace and rest to the only two people in my life I knew that I knew that I knew would love me on the days when I just couldn't figure out how to love myself. . and started me on the search for the answer to, "Well, why should anyone love me?"
  • I love the fact that I have 3 kids that test me, a family that often times doesn't appreciate me, and a job that makes me want to pull my hair out on some days and work for free on others.
And it's ALL GOOD. My state of mind did not come overnight. . or over a couple of years. . or even a decade. It's taken me a lifetime to get here and to love where I am. But now I've arrived. . well, sorta. . I'm still learning, growing, morphing, but loving the ride all the while. But I'm so happy with me. As I child, I could not have asked God to build me up the way he has with the tools, limitations, hurts, or responsibilities he's given me, but I wouldn't change a thing. I'm perfectly imperfect, and that's exactly where I want to be. Happy Mothers Day to all the Mother's. Love you. And I pray that you too can love your perfectly imperfect self.



Thursday, May 3, 2012

When It Stinks So Bad


Everyone who knows me knows that I have a crazy weak stomach. Pretty much every bad smell, taste, or feeling makes me have an upset stomach. It's really awful!

So, when I walked into the ladies room a minute ago, and sniffed a bothersome odor, I just should've took off running. But I had to pee SO bad, I would've had to squirm my way down a flight of stairs and by then I don't know if wetting my pants would've been worse that potential throw up. . Apparently, I decided that the pants wetting thing won because I stayed.

Anyway, as it always happens, as soon as my nose filled with stink, the nausea set in. Before I knew it, it had made its way up my throat and into my MOUTH! Uuuuuugh. . Now, I'm nauseous because of the stink and the nausea. . I covered my nose, mouth, and eyes (don't ask me why about the eyes) so that I did not inhale any more than my body could tolerate and started to wildly reach for the door. .

Made it through the first door, but still couldn't get a breath of fresh air.. Geez! This lady is sick!

Made it through the second door, and quick exhale, and deep inhale, followed by a vomit swallow (yes, disgusting), and I was ready to go back to work.

Again, I should've took off running. But I saw an innocent victim approaching the same bathroom that I just barely made it out of alive.. I had to do something.

I put my hand on the door of the bathroom, and looked her dead in the eye and said, "STOP! Do yourself a favor and go downstairs!" She was so naive, she began to question me. So I said, "I just threw up in my mouth. I wish someone would've told me."

She did an about-face, and then the unexpected happened. The bathroom door opened, and I had to look the rotted guts rodent in the face. She looked displeased, so I said, "Hey, you were in there. You know you stink."

She seemed to understand. She smiled. . and walked her stinky butt away. .

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

My Running Buddy

I think that may be one of the sweetest expressions of affection I've ever heard from a human being.

"When you run, I wanna run with you."

Yes, I love to run. . not just in marathons. . Many times in life in general.

From childhood, when something really upset me, I'd run. . with no particular direction. . just away. . I'd run and run and run until I literally ran out of air. Then, I'd remain wherever I ended up until I thought the stress had passed, or until I had conjured enough strength to deal with it. Sometimes I fell asleep wherever I ended up; in the yard, at my aunt's house, at the park. As a kid, it worked.

Once I became an adult, the whole running thing evolved. As a young person, my stress lead me to road trips. . usually home to Momma. She would talk to me, love on me, and Lawd - feed me, until I had the energy to return home and fight the brave fight again.

Then at some point, my running away became jogging. When I felt stress, I would jog for 5 to 10 miles until I felt better. On my really bad days, I'd run up to three times a day. I knew when I got home, the stress would be there, so I'd make myself so tired, funky, and out of it, that by the time I got home, I was gone. . into a sweet shower and slumber. But that stress is now EX stress. . and I put that kind of running behind me. The body does not respect or support that level of need for de-stressing when you're deep into your 30's (and beyond) anyway, so all of that had to go.

These days, there's still stress. Living is stressful even though it has so many rewards. I jog sometimes. I drive sometimes. And it does not have to be because of stress. It can be due to boredom, nervous energy, need for new scenery. . or whatever. . I make arrangements for the kids, and then I go. . to wherever my mind and my heart leads me. I'm always alone. That's the part I've always loved the most about running. I'm out there in my own world. . free to just be me. . with no one judging, complaining, pulling, pushing, demanding, trying to capture or trap me.

About a year ago, I ran smack into someone just like me. . I hit him so hard, the sheer impact knocked me off of my feet. . I didn't even apologize. . I stood up, brushed myself off, and continued running. But this time, there was someone there who ran with me. .

And now, he wants us to run away together. . Let's just see if he can keep up.




Wednesday, March 14, 2012

My Bucket List - Places I Want to Go, Things I Want to Do

Best Friend challenged me to come up with a Bucket List of all the places and things I want to experience. . with the Best Friend. Well, I started small, and realized that life is too damn short to limit yourself. Besides, I'm blessed enough to know that if I desire it, there's a pretty fair chance it's going to happen. So, this is just the beginning of my Bucket List. List of Places
  • Queen Wilhelmina State Park (Arkansas)- I developed the website, and fell in love with the photography of all the great views
  • Gulf Shores, AL – Grew up at the beach, and want to return!
  • Dallas, TX – I'm not even going to say what I'm looking forward to here. . but it's NOT just shopping!
  • Jamaica - I'll even let my hair grow so I can get it braided before I go.
  • Las Vegas - I love slots and lights, and am a big time People Watcher. I was born to visit Vegas!
  • Disney World - I've got to share this with my kids. I know it's not an cost-effecient vacation, but Hey!
  • Niagara Falls - Again, I fell in love with the photography and video I've seen.
  • Grand Canyon - I want to see the BIG HOLE! lol
  • San Antonio Riverwalk - San Antonio had a wonderful destination marketing campaign in 2008, that has stuck with me.
  • Hawaii!! - I want to get my big butt into a little bikini and wear a lei. Yes, that will be me!
  • Atlantic City, New Jersey - Give me some BIG excitement. Bring it!

List of Things
  • Test drive random luxury cars – kinda like visiting the boat dealership in Hot Springs. That was fun!
  • Hiking, Fishing, Canoeing - I hate to camp outdoors, but here I am. . wanting to try it.
  • Sailing – We’ve seen a boat.. let’s hop on!
  • Golf
  • Tennis
  • Club Discovery – We have to go to a gay bar! C’Mon, Best Friend!
  • Listen to some Jazz
  • Baseball Game
  • Scary Movie – I hate them, but I’ll try it with you
  • Manicure/Pedicure/Massage
  • Garvan Woodland Gardens (near Hot Springs)
  • Casino - covered this one in my List of Places, but just in case you missed it.

  • Jump out of an airplane - with a parachute

  • FULL Marathon - The whole 26.2 miles

  • Learn to speak French

  • Learn to salsa dance

  • Write a book

  • Learn to play chess

  • Get my PhD or Law Degree

  • Port Arthur, TX – I want you see where I’m from. That’s actually really important to me.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Tomorrow is THE DAY!!!

I'm really excited. Tomorrow is my little big day.

Frank and I, and a couple of people from Pilgrim's Progress are making it official. We're getting married!

I found a dress, shoes, jewelry, and a hair piece. I ordered a bouquet, and have the marriage license saved in the corner of my dresser drawer. I'm ready to go.

This has been an interesting journey. . very interesting. . In 4 months, I've had enough time to get to know Frank and his family, give him time to get to know my family, let go of some of my past hurt, and grow closer to God. I feel good. I feel ready.

I still have this thing with my best friend that I'm still trying to figure out, but that's going to be OK. We love each other, and are going to transition once Frank and I have fully settled into our marriage. No worries there.

This entire experience has proven to me again and again the love God has for me wherein he could just come into my life at a point when I was not thinking about marriage. . and give me someone that's pretty perfect for me. . Mature, supportive, hard-working, funny, un-selfish.

This is going to work. Here we go.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Lead by Example or Shut the Hell Up!

"Move!" That was the statement that started the battle between me and Fiance. He walked over to my 8-year old, who was playing on my iPad and said, "Move!" My son frowned and looked at Fiance and then at me, and I softly said, "He meant excuse me, but move J." Fiance became angered and said, "No, I didn't." Then, it was on. His point: In my home, children can have the entire house, but my bedroom is my oasis. My point: I work hard to teach the boys to be respectful toward me, each other, and everyone else. Talking to them like undoes all my hard work. I'm not backing down. He's on one side of the bed, and I'm on the other, and this is the way it's going to be until he finds it within himself to see things my way. Here's the funny: Today, we went to marriage counseling at the church. And it went well. We smiled, the pastor smiled, and we felt good about being a component of this happy couple. We got done and went about our days and all was good. And at some point we arrived at the point where I heard Frank tell my son, "Move!" and it all went downhill. Well, he didn't EXACTLY apologize, but he gave me what I needed and we are talking again. Lord, help this marriage! I think I can hang on.