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. .