tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62358985330337287432024-03-12T20:41:15.355-05:00Life As It DoesI blog about what I know: my love life or lack thereof, my kids, life from teenage motherhood to mothering a teenager, my job, my house, my dog, my family, and my faith. I also blog about God's AMAZING sense of humor.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-55784404542678993832015-10-14T17:09:00.003-05:002021-04-20T15:01:24.452-05:00The Day I become Mrs. Amos: June 20, 2015Biggest Mistake EVER!AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-76872529435071909632015-10-07T15:42:00.002-05:002021-04-20T15:02:57.536-05:00My Grown Up Slumber PartyDeleted.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0Jackson, MS, USA32.2987573 -90.18481029999998132.084035799999995 -90.507533799999976 32.5134788 -89.862086799999986tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-42447900685891378352014-08-18T15:52:00.000-05:002014-08-18T15:52:46.017-05:00More than a third of American adults have no retirement savings: I'm OneWhen I clicked on the LA Times article link, there was my story, headlined on the web page in like 40 pixel font. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2nKT6YxnNTUyLTliIEZMX4tN2GDgqUBFSz_CoEup2boT_01F2OUAy1Mg7AWovLlBTUlYKH61SPTQyp-fYClwyGdskAn1CG27WGRx4isqaY8GS8JIk_BD_mWuPgCNSigyneOsYJ00KcM/s1600/Retirement-Savings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp2nKT6YxnNTUyLTliIEZMX4tN2GDgqUBFSz_CoEup2boT_01F2OUAy1Mg7AWovLlBTUlYKH61SPTQyp-fYClwyGdskAn1CG27WGRx4isqaY8GS8JIk_BD_mWuPgCNSigyneOsYJ00KcM/s200/Retirement-Savings.jpg" /></a></div><b>36% of adults lack retirement savings -- 14% of them 65 or over</b><br />
<br />
No. I'm not 65 or older, but when I transitioned from Arkansas to Mississippi, I blew through my IRA. It was a really scary decision. But I think it was still a good one. But every day, as I work to re-build it, I spend a lot of time thinking about what's the right investment amount for me right now. <br />
<br />
I'm almost 40. So I can pretty much HEAR the clock ticking down to when I retire . loudly. <br />
<br />
And I was doing so well at one time. I didn't start until I was twenty-five, but I was able to save a really large lump sum. Then, I had a really terrible break up from my ex and had to cash out my IRA so I didn't lose my home and could purchase a new car to replace the car I lost in the break up. <br />
<br />
After I got hit with the tax penalty, I told myself I would never again cash out my retirement savings prior to retirement. Thus the reason they recommend you never say never. <br />
<br />
Another catastrophe to avert. Another cash out. <br />
<br />
Well, it is what it is. And now, I'm re-building along with other regular people who are recovering from similar set backs. Here we go. <br />
<br />
Read the LA Times article. It's interesting enough. <br />
http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-retirement-savings-bankrate-20140818-story.htmlAJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-50304394350812748282014-08-08T14:13:00.001-05:002015-05-27T11:49:09.883-05:00Sorry Business Owners and Drug Sellers Are All the Same<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSluVzO8YnmNUsxy__gBkq31ADkmuyStSoGWO5N9oXkltIo71Ewu6LtBDFNJpROIeMIuF6aNc3yCuqwqnzPEKbLpYdZ90JkWGiDRI4mfJW9MsjeZIrIJ6GgQeeUfBbYhAwybKWOb9UiFs/s1600/1297093945-beer-cooler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSluVzO8YnmNUsxy__gBkq31ADkmuyStSoGWO5N9oXkltIo71Ewu6LtBDFNJpROIeMIuF6aNc3yCuqwqnzPEKbLpYdZ90JkWGiDRI4mfJW9MsjeZIrIJ6GgQeeUfBbYhAwybKWOb9UiFs/s320/1297093945-beer-cooler.jpg" /></a></div>After leaving Home Depot, I drove down State Street into Jackson to see if I could find a store that sold black hair products without having to go to the other side of town or shop at a big box store, and Voila! I found one that had a really friendly staff that helped me find everything I needed. Wooohooo.<br />
<br />
On my way there, I passed a Texaco that had gas for $3.06 and made a mental note to myself to stop and address my gas light that was on while I was en route to the hair products store. <br />
<br />
After I paid for my gas at the pump, I decided to go into the store to get a beverage - because I had just filled up in 98 degree weather and didn't think I'd make it all the way back to work without something cool. <br />
<br />
I went into the store - passed 4 open coolers in the very front that were filled with huge cans of beer. . I went to the back of the store and scanned the refrigerated drinks hoping to find a Lipton Diet Green Tea. But no luck. So, I decided to settle for any green tea. . But no luck. So, I decided to just pick a tea.. But again no luck. <br />
<br />
Now, this Texaco was really large, so it took me a moment to figure out what the problem was. . Once I did, it made me really sad. . then angry.<br />
<br />
Not including the open coolers that were in the front of the store, there were 12 vertical refrigerators filled with cold beverages. One was filled with different kinds of water. One was filled with soft drinks and juices. And TEN were filled with beer and different kinds of alcohol. <br />
<br />
I went to the front of the store and asked to speak to the owner, who was standing nearby. I told the guy, "You have NO tea in the entire store. That's so weird." He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Hmmm. Ok."<br />
<br />
I said, "I have never seen such a disproportionate amount of alcohol sold in a convenient store. There's almost nothing else."<br />
<br />
And this fool looked at me, smiled, and asked, "Do you even know where you are?"<br />
<br />
I walked closer to him and said, "Yes, I'm in Jackson. I live here. Do you?" And he said, "HELL no!"<br />
<br />
I was so disgusted; partly because I realized that I had just patronized this fool's store by purchasing gas. <br />
<br />
Jackson, MS has its issues. There's no denying it. But the average person values the area they live in because there really is a lot of pride in city. I haven't even lived here long, and I already share it.<br />
<br />
Business owners like this one, in ANY city, are no better than the gang bangers and crack sellers on the street because they mean no good for the city or the people in it. I will NEVER shop at the Texaco on State Street again. And I will make sure I tell everyone that I talk to how this business owner really thinks of Jackson, Mississippi. AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-86476588728449695632014-07-30T08:03:00.002-05:002014-08-08T15:07:23.236-05:00I'm COLOR blind, stupid<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6_g6I3rLRNpl7H47nEGvBh_Ag_7IREdi6comiaXVQRh6ZhZ2HzmOk0q9RqvtQ3IJRB-wAaNabFoRjWzyx50N-Fb-h_zm58cbNDqi3PWFqp4Kh8izTnlTQAkmThiMUDCyIqcXtYepCB8/s1600/K_Colorblind_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6_g6I3rLRNpl7H47nEGvBh_Ag_7IREdi6comiaXVQRh6ZhZ2HzmOk0q9RqvtQ3IJRB-wAaNabFoRjWzyx50N-Fb-h_zm58cbNDqi3PWFqp4Kh8izTnlTQAkmThiMUDCyIqcXtYepCB8/s320/K_Colorblind_1.jpg" /></a></div>Why is it that when I divulge to people that I'm partially color blind, they always ask me if I can drive. Or hold up 3 fingers. Or ask me if I can see what they're wearing. Seriously?<br />
<br />
For some reason, people don't process the word COLOR and only focus on the blindness. Well, my vision is actually 20/20. And I can read really well. I just can't see variations of reds and greens.<br />
<br />
And this challenge didn't sneak up on me in the middle of the night, so don't ask me how it makes me feel. I was born this way. I feel like Anasthia. . What else?<br />
<br />
Now, that I know my kindergarten teacher was wrong -- I'm not stupid -- I feel like this challenge just adds to the list of what makes me unique. <br />
<br />
But to the person that asked me if I divulged my color blindness when interviewing for my current position. . Mmmmm. No. Did you divulge that you see color like the majority? I wasn't hired to be a graphic artist, the question never came up in conversation, and I think you may have been the kid my kindergarten teacher was really referring to. <br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-30816457084234527852014-07-28T10:57:00.000-05:002014-07-28T11:00:46.773-05:00My Day One Chick: GrannyI was discussing my loyalty for my sons' grandmother with the man I love. "If she called in a favor," I said, "I'd deliver." And he was insulted because my sons' grandmother is also my ex's mother. And his concern was that I didn't feel that way for his mother. <br />
<br />
When we really got into this conversation, although I realized he was angry, I was actually really excited that we had discovered a topic we felt so differently about. . because we tend to agree on everything.. so this was an opportunity, at least I thought, to create some alignment on yet another topic.. Well, we never got there. I don't know if we ever will. <br />
<br />
Here's the background. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL41h3p0iv4zEZJgWwwXujFbpEL2PHQsYz29himy5gvmzRutGdkWXi3jDCC3vYsONp1nWEEopmeh818C_XPgfnpnrlxSvaiXhu-fPNU4-cdotNNvfvzBouKL9XL0PR5bUQYTwp8nlRPdU/s1600/keep-calm-and-love-granny-14.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL41h3p0iv4zEZJgWwwXujFbpEL2PHQsYz29himy5gvmzRutGdkWXi3jDCC3vYsONp1nWEEopmeh818C_XPgfnpnrlxSvaiXhu-fPNU4-cdotNNvfvzBouKL9XL0PR5bUQYTwp8nlRPdU/s200/keep-calm-and-love-granny-14.png" /></a></div><b>ON MY SONS' GRANDMOTHER</b>: <br />
There are not enough words to express how deeply I love this woman or the many, many, many reasons why. But I can definitely scratch the surface with the things that are most important to me.<br />
<br />
When I met Granny, she welcomed me into her home and her life so freely. . so completely. I felt a bond with her from the first moment we met. She's so generous with her love, it rains down on you so hard, you can't NOT love her. And then, the fact that I love to eat, and she loves to cook and bake. . and does it SO well. <br />
<br />
Maybe what just sealed the deal with me and Granny was our connection to my mother. When my mother came into town, I brought her to Granny's house when I went over there with the kids. And my mother just LOVED Granny. They talked and laughed and Granny showed my Momma, the center of my world, the same love she showed me. . The same love she shows everyone. Then, when my momma died, and I felt so orphaned and alone, Granny accompanied me at the funeral - the hardest day of my entire life - and has been my rock since then. Because the loneliness I felt that day always creeps back up on me. And somehow, Granny always knows when it's just completely unbearable because she calls me and tells me she's thinking about me just in time. <br />
<br />
Granny is my Day One. And she's been by my side for TWENTY years. Me and her son broke up over six years ago, and she and I are still close. Yes, if she calls me, I'm going. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>ON MY BOYFRIEND'S MOM</b>:<br />
The love I have for my boyfriend, spilled over to his Mom way before I met her. This woman is gorgeous, classy, smart, and loving, but she is a Momma Bear. She's not gonna let any old thing be with her son. So, when she thought I was any old thing, she did what a Momma Bear does. <br />
<br />
Thank God for understanding, time, and my boyfriend's IMpatience, she and I have come full circle. I love her. I do. And I make sure she knows it. And her love is deep, and boundless, and true, so to be in her favor, truly makes the whole ordeal of getting to know her and earning her respect, well worth the process. <br />
<br />
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - <br />
<br />
I guess the issue I have with my boyfriend's unhappiness is that he's trying to apply a One Sized Fits All mentality to a situation that really doesn't fit. I can love them both. They're so different that I have to love them differently. My relationship with Granny is 20 years in the making and my relationship with his mom is still pretty new, but forged in fire. <br />
<br />
My relationship with Granny at this point has nothing to do with her son. . or even her grandchildren. She is my friend. . and to be honest, the closest thing I have to my momma who is no longer here. I will NEVER forsake her. You just don't do that to someone who's been so true. <br />
<br />
We probably won't ever talk about this topic again because it generated so much fire. And it's one of those things that I think my boyfriend has to see in action to understand. <br />
<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-2597156845739051172014-06-23T19:25:00.001-05:002014-06-23T19:25:37.332-05:00Neck ties turn me on<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wEXust5pZtknENQu9v0fWaQnQXZ6-Ff9hcUDjsCiunwNBFqnQBtvPlgZfpHDNMlYean_Gnn6zrs4KBcTjPOh2iaRB1Oo0IHbNvY3aMcjwRmvEQF2nhuR2LVR_OeV9O5P1Paasddr41o/s1600/blue_necktie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-wEXust5pZtknENQu9v0fWaQnQXZ6-Ff9hcUDjsCiunwNBFqnQBtvPlgZfpHDNMlYean_Gnn6zrs4KBcTjPOh2iaRB1Oo0IHbNvY3aMcjwRmvEQF2nhuR2LVR_OeV9O5P1Paasddr41o/s200/blue_necktie.jpg" /></a></div>Today when I arrived home he was wearing a neck tie.<br />
<br />
That is all.<br />
<br />
I may never be able to look at a man's tie again - especially not a blue one - without becoming aroused. <br />
<br />
Not bad for a Monday. AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-29283986490166826932014-06-09T10:06:00.002-05:002014-06-09T10:06:40.853-05:00This morning I questioned my own love for you<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZoX0CJIt9KQaDuk3JcdWR4d8u1Z0GHXpCOTIdWp5mg671jYi642a3NxHbhGM2Gjeawys1V18vaaED5CyP5UyM8mfaGYtXy0E-RwzOkV3YRYasdsd-uekORoBGhXZAtksEeoOtjFWQuRw/s1600/How_Do_I_Love_Thee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZoX0CJIt9KQaDuk3JcdWR4d8u1Z0GHXpCOTIdWp5mg671jYi642a3NxHbhGM2Gjeawys1V18vaaED5CyP5UyM8mfaGYtXy0E-RwzOkV3YRYasdsd-uekORoBGhXZAtksEeoOtjFWQuRw/s200/How_Do_I_Love_Thee.jpg" /></a></div>I woke up this morning thinking, "What the hell am I doing? Do I really love this person that I spend all my time with? The person that I share my life with?" So, I took a few minutes and did an audit of the way that I feel, and this is what I came up with.<br />
<br />
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * <br />
We've had sad days. We've had mad days. But since I've been with you, we haven't had a single bad day. <br />
<br />
Never have I had someone who has given so freely, completely, thoughtfully, and unselfishly to me and my family. <br />
<br />
I've never smiled so much. I've never laughed out loud so much. I've never felt so loved and accepted for being Plane Jane Tom Boy Me. <br />
<br />
You inspire me to want to push a little harder, to try again, and see it through. You are my Fountain of Youth. <br />
<br />
Since my spirit has joined with your spirit my faith in love, happiness, and goodness has been restored. And my belief in God's grace and mercy has been fully renewed and no matter what life has in store, it now stands unwavering. <br />
<br />
I have so much love for you I could sprinkle a small portion into several lifetimes, and still feel completely fulfilled in each one. <br />
<br />
I know this is meant to be. I know this story is written. And I rejoice in the fact that God chose me to co-star next to you in this lifetime of love.<br />
<br />
Yes. I love you Titus.<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-79303637459634447282014-04-30T16:31:00.002-05:002014-04-30T16:38:24.403-05:00What am I going to do with this hair? I am done with the days when I refuse to work out because I'm afraid to ruin my hair. I am also done with the days that I ease my hair maintenance saga by allowing a beautician to braid my hair so tight that I have back-to-back migraines for weeks (and half of my hair falls out when I un-braid it). I have enough migraines as it is. I just can't go back to days in bed filled with painful headaches. What kind of life is that?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TU38SaWw0gDdKDIS3UCwV-gNR2oKhznuNnDuN4rWcG52bArEDLiW7LKxSETMjwTQMLOMI587B62AvT3EI4mJxoCs1GTdB89VQisBfEUCjfQDV8RSuoug7lMtAu4hLiVF1mBWSDIsAFs/s1600/natural-hair-pic.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TU38SaWw0gDdKDIS3UCwV-gNR2oKhznuNnDuN4rWcG52bArEDLiW7LKxSETMjwTQMLOMI587B62AvT3EI4mJxoCs1GTdB89VQisBfEUCjfQDV8RSuoug7lMtAu4hLiVF1mBWSDIsAFs/s320/natural-hair-pic.png" /></a></div>I am an <b>active black woman with processed hair</b> and it's becoming a serious burden because I sweat it out everyday when I'm walking, running, and playing tennis. Then, I have to wash and condition it at least every other day to keep it clean and smelling good. And with a perm, it seems like after you've washed your hair about four times, it just begins to return back to its pre-processed state. It costs me $80 a month for the beautician and 3 hours of time. That's all I have to give. What do I do?<br />
<br />
One answer just rolls out of some people's mouths: "<b>Go natural</b>."<br />
<br />
For a black woman, <b>going natural</b> means discontinuing the process of chemically straightening the hair. Perming your hair is a really awful process anyway . Those chemicals could eat through cement, but we put them in our hair because we don't want to be seen with a kinky, nappy, uncontrollable mess on our heads. I know I don't. <br />
<br />
And if the truth be told, I'd LOVE to go natural! No, really I would. I have this vision of waking up in the morning and in a few quick steps being done with this thick mane.<br />
<br />
But I work in an industry, in a geographic region, in a facility where the expectation is that you will come in each day looking. . well, like everyone else. I think they would be OK if I came in one day with a full afro. I'm sure I'll hear, "Anasthia, you look so exotic." That's what "people" say when you test the boundaries of generally accepted standards of beauty by doing something a little different.<br />
<br />
But I know I will get some negative feedback on coming in to the office with hair that's transitioning from processed to natural. It just doesn't happen overnight.<br />
<br />
You think the Pentagon has <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2014/04/30/politics/hagel-hairstyle-ban/index.html?hpt=hp_c3">rigid rules on how Black women should keep their hair</a>? The un-spoken rules that prevail for a woman like me who is not only marketing an organization, but also marketing herself, are far more stringent. And not walking the line can be down right un-forgivable as far as your career is concerned. Yes, sad. But true. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure what to do. <br />
<br />
Well, for now, I'm going to continue working really hard to keep my hair looking good while I decide a long-term plan, but if you want to reply with some ideas, give me a shout. I'm at a crossroads, and am willing to listen. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-30315086982505399732014-02-24T15:51:00.000-06:002014-02-24T15:51:31.658-06:00What unemployment really feels likeFAILURE. <br />
<br />
I've been unemployed since December 27, 2013. . about two months. <br />
<br />
I was laid off. . whatever that means.. At the end of the day, if you have been trained to appreciate steady employment, regardless of the reason for an extended lapse in employment, it always feels the same. Like Failure. <br />
<br />
I've worked since I was 16 years old: 22 years. I've built up this provider persona that I can't really live up to right now, and it's got me really questioning my identity, my faith, my goals, and how I ended up in my current situation. <br />
<br />
That last part doesn't really matter. How you end up in the hole is really an empty question. How are you gonna get out of it? That has to be the focus. That's my focus. But I'm struggling. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbBP9UuOAJUTPfL2ZRvRB6cLczvwOWXGCLTJlXy0s1DxIh7N-UipUXD-5OH97Yl7d76HVV6h0IAmcqr5wd2niR_TDALVdu2PGev87kvYw2Djm-xcidhxTmzrVaFyHkaBLECibf4AUoHQ/s1600/unemployment-job-work-blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbBP9UuOAJUTPfL2ZRvRB6cLczvwOWXGCLTJlXy0s1DxIh7N-UipUXD-5OH97Yl7d76HVV6h0IAmcqr5wd2niR_TDALVdu2PGev87kvYw2Djm-xcidhxTmzrVaFyHkaBLECibf4AUoHQ/s320/unemployment-job-work-blog.jpg" /></a></div>I wake up every day, and the first thing I do is look up new job openings. I send out 2-3 applications; if I can find 2-3 relevant positions. This all happens before I step out of bed at 6:10 am. And before the day is over, I read 2-3, "You didn't make the cut" emails, and pray that I can go through the process for at least one more day. . to give God just a little while longer to work this whole messed up situation out and to get me on a team where I can do some good. <br />
<br />
That's what I'm starving for right now. After taking care of the kids, the house, the dog, the boyfriend, the entire world.. I have to feel like I've done some far-reaching good. And right now I just don't. I feel helpless, useless, <br />
<br />
I've been waiting for about a week to hear back from an employer that I just really really felt was a good fit for me: the interview went really well, my potential boss was really pleasant, they contacted my contacts on time. During the final interview, I actually thought they were going to offer me the job. Then, they told me I was one of 6 candidates (out of 72 applicants) that they were considering for the position. <br />
<br />
Everything seemed to be going so well.<br />
<br />
Then, I received the dreaded "You didn't make the cut" email. Yes, I've read it dozens of times. I can almost recite the text verbatim. But it hurt me SO bad. Oh my. I prayed on this job. I begged God. I was well-prepared for the interview and picked three strong professional references. <br />
<br />
I still don't know what happened. All I know is that I feel like I've been kicked in the gut because I have somehow failed again. <br />
<br />
I will brush myself off in a little bit and get back at it, so I restart my career in the position that God has just for me. I'm just licking my wounds. . They hurt. I have to go tell the kiddos that this one didn't work out either and answer to their looks of disappointment once again. <br />
<br />
This is SO hard. But I'm strong. And I have to be, so I will be. But ouch. This one got me good. AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-47502058089826562372013-11-18T10:50:00.000-06:002013-11-25T09:55:27.330-06:00You do not know me if. . <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQmJo1d2lpouJ_oEAFdmKPbhxoVgdTtmleYSx6ymRHWj8LATCshOsvU0qHSjJEu6sR1rJD3I9zAOu2Bg2vIoScZX8-LICxnr_SfLpc835RuxcXABHIbd5z4Mw1ZCZkyPTRupHtg1ptH4/s1600/you-don-t-know-me_111813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQmJo1d2lpouJ_oEAFdmKPbhxoVgdTtmleYSx6ymRHWj8LATCshOsvU0qHSjJEu6sR1rJD3I9zAOu2Bg2vIoScZX8-LICxnr_SfLpc835RuxcXABHIbd5z4Mw1ZCZkyPTRupHtg1ptH4/s200/you-don-t-know-me_111813.jpg" /></a></div>Over the weekend, I realized that there are some people I've had in my circle for YEARS, who don't really know me. To make it easy for you to tell whether you really know me or not, I decided to take a few moments to put together a list of traits for people that may think they know me, but who really do not. <br />
<br />
<br />
You really don't know me if. . <br />
1. You pronounce my name the way it's spelled. <br />
2. You knock on the front door when you come to my home. <br />
3. You come to my home uninvited, and expect me to answer the door.<br />
4. You think that my baby boy I'm always referring to is less than 10 years old and 100 lbs. <br />
5. You think because I smile and speak to you, I'm flirting with you. I really believe that when you smile, it adds just an extra glimmer of hope to the world.<br />
6. You call and I don't answer (ever), and you think I don't know that you called. <br />
7. You think that I'm always happy when I'm smiling. I'm a lady. I was not raised to say something negative every time it comes to mind. Refer back to #5. <br />
8. You think that I have to not love you to cut you out of my circle. <br />
9. You think that I don't love my kids to death. I do. I do. I dooooooo.<br />
10. You are constantly recommending that I watch a new TV show. I'm not into TV. How about you recommend what I'm into? A BOOK<br />
11. You think that I have forgotten a lie you told me and I caught you in. Forgiven (maybe), but not forgotten.<br />
12. You think I don't notice and appreciate the little things. . and expect you to do the same. <br />
13. You say really negative things about people I cherish and think it doesn't make me dislike and distance myself from YOU.<br />
14. You think that when I say I forgot, you can hint me into remembering miscellaneous facts. Look, generally when it's gone, it's GONE. But I do remember the important stuff.<br />
15. You think me walking away while we were in mid-conversation on a meaningless topic means I wasn't listening. Mmmmm, I was. . that's why I walked away.<br />
<br />
OK. I've made it easy. Now, let us both stop pretending. AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-85286775723476320162013-10-07T14:30:00.000-05:002013-10-10T14:34:00.084-05:00You just never know who you touchToday is a rough Monday. I guess it's typical for a Monday, but I was getting so caught up in frustration that I almost forgot. . This is the norm. It's supposed to be crazy after you've had not one but two virtually stress-free days to recover at home with the ones you love. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7JhuPVt1S9PD9fKgZL8AowTtpYC1lGEszZcCOe-4Ka941wl7BlV8u4NcVZpwZIiex9xmqr4ujANNNEMx-eGL3T9aFuf3hR68UcIRuNR-y30cBw-8cR0iIe5wJOWwz00Vx9p3mVYbu0A/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv7JhuPVt1S9PD9fKgZL8AowTtpYC1lGEszZcCOe-4Ka941wl7BlV8u4NcVZpwZIiex9xmqr4ujANNNEMx-eGL3T9aFuf3hR68UcIRuNR-y30cBw-8cR0iIe5wJOWwz00Vx9p3mVYbu0A/s320/photo.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I had just arrived at the point when I asked myself, "Why am I doing this?" and "Why do I care?" when I looked up and saw this little gift from a patient. This little adorable package was sitting on my keyboard when I turned on the lights this morning, but it didn't really have weight until I started to feel unappreciated. As soon as I realized that someone I've served thought enough of me to spend her time and money on me, I got all teary-eyed. Honestly, I cried. <br />
<br />
Once I pulled myself together, I called T to thank her, and here's what she said. <br />
<br />
"Anasthia, I come in there sometimes on the brink of giving up, and your attitude is what saves me. I don't know why, but just the way you care about me reminds me that I'm worth it. Don't stop Anasthia. I need you."<br />
<br />
So, you know me. That's all I need to snap out of this funk. Back to work I go. . with a smile on my face. . that will (hopefully) inspire someone who's having a worse day than I am to keep going.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-66679507771428108082013-07-25T21:58:00.000-05:002013-07-25T22:01:25.553-05:00Behaving as half of a whole is HARD work for a runnerToday has been a tough day. Nothing has gone the way I've wanted it to, but for some reason my other half thinks it has.<br />
<br />
Let's see.. The mortgage consultant called me today and told me that we have to come up with another $3k to close on the house. My boss told me that the position I'm interviewing people for, and have determined who I want to fill it, he is also doing his own personal interviewing and screening for. My other half has blown all out of proportion a response that I had at seeing an old pic saved on my laptop of a dear friend. {Yes, he's over there MAD right now. Ignoring me and focusing on his new iPad. . when he knows I'm an attention hog.}<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IDa4SLE-OcFFX575WRdkavU9oj9l5532dZ1RQyaWOeDyZ73YFcsqss7lf2LsHQ8fKuw3J0IG3-v0l6IaXu0vHJ2qYdCy2zVCbD9vzqUjXabqEWs1lrOWEhHu26YxoY0WVOHcx43wGmY/s1600/escape_sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IDa4SLE-OcFFX575WRdkavU9oj9l5532dZ1RQyaWOeDyZ73YFcsqss7lf2LsHQ8fKuw3J0IG3-v0l6IaXu0vHJ2qYdCy2zVCbD9vzqUjXabqEWs1lrOWEhHu26YxoY0WVOHcx43wGmY/s320/escape_sign.jpg" /></a></div>I became so frustrated when I got off of work, I grabbed my tennis shoes and was about to do my thing.. escape.. run.. separate myself from the world that's drowning me. <br />
<br />
In the past, my single days (and honestly the entire (brief) marriage, too) on days like this, I would pack a bag, pick a location, finish my work day and go. . leave. . disappear. But I don't have the luxury anymore. <br />
<br />
I'm connected to someone else who expects me to behave as half as a whole. I promised him that I will not run until he can run with me. . but today I want to run from him, so putting my word into practice is SO HARD for me right now. And today is a really hard day. I'm just DROWNING.<br />
<br />
For six years I've trained myself in the art of escaping. I've perfected it. So today, I feel so trapped, overwhelmed, imprisoned, confined, and anxious. I just want it to be over. What IT is, I don't really know. But I can't deal with it. <br />
<br />
The great thing is that I knew where I was before I hit this patch in the road. My better half and I talked about marriage, and I agreed with him. We aren't ready. I didn't say exactly why. But deep down I know that I can't seal the bond with another human being until I can figure out how to stop running. And today I really don't know how.<br />
<br />
But right now. . I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW. I feel so immature to not be able to figure out something that I think should be . . well. . natural. This thing of sticking it out. . making it work. . latching on to someone else until the storm passes. . it's just the hardest thing ever for me. . today.<br />
<br />
I'm praying that if I can just make it through the night, I'll wake up a little stronger. able to sustain the storm.. and maybe rest my heels for just one more day.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0Jackson, MS, USA32.2987573 -90.18481029999998132.084035799999995 -90.507533799999976 32.5134788 -89.862086799999986tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-38605107251102850522013-05-01T21:02:00.000-05:002013-05-01T21:10:47.070-05:00"White is Right" is wrongWhy is it that when black people do well in an area, it's defined as "White?"<br />
<br />
- "You talk White" means you speak well. <br />
- "You living like White folks" means you have a nice home with little stress.<br />
- "I want that White man credit" means I want to actually pay my bills on time and not live beyond my means.<br />
- "You better stop treating your kids like the White folks" means you better start verbally abusing your children, and physically abuse them when they don't listen.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oL4cA8YO5CSCWhyphenhyphenDvj4JoToRJf4J900LK5Qps0KgQOS-20zJYCDrPrS0bTeuybsq3UynHhHgFYDn7s4diomyO9ZDfrrha7RtUCkrXhdi5fKaaMy2cEF7wBrjZrPvw7G95odVmyW-7Ds/s1600/Layout+1_Page+2+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" align=right><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9oL4cA8YO5CSCWhyphenhyphenDvj4JoToRJf4J900LK5Qps0KgQOS-20zJYCDrPrS0bTeuybsq3UynHhHgFYDn7s4diomyO9ZDfrrha7RtUCkrXhdi5fKaaMy2cEF7wBrjZrPvw7G95odVmyW-7Ds/s320/Layout+1_Page+2+copy.jpg" /></a>I've heard them all. And have heard each of these phrases multiple times at one point or another throughout my life. It goes into one ear and out the other. But now my kids are starting to complain that they are hearing "You talk White." And they don't understand what it means. . <br />
<br />
Oh boy. . Here goes.<br />
<br />
Here was how I explained it to my ten year old today.<br />
<br />
"Some Black people are convinced that we (Black people) are not good at anything. So, when someone of color is good at something, they relate it to a white person because somewhere in life they've learned that all good things come from white people. So, it's your responsibility to be even better than you would naturally be. . so somewhere along the line. . that person will have at least one example of a person of color who was just as good or better than the vision of goodness they have created for whites. "<br />
<br />
But when I was done with the Mommy talk I had to shake my head. It just makes me sad.<br />
<br />
Damn! It's 2013 and racism is still alive. Black on black racism is still rearing its ugly head.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-11826423210092770082013-04-14T17:02:00.001-05:002013-05-02T10:15:02.862-05:00What I'll Never Know: The Last Lesson My Heroine Taught MeEvery now and then I hear myself saying, "My momma taught me that. .," or "My momma would always say. . " When I do, I always take a little pause after that sentence to let the sadness pass. . and to blink through the tears that rush to my eyes. <br />
<br />
I've pretty much gotten over the fact that my momma is now in heaven, so I will not have the luxury of hearing her voice or seeing her face on the tough days. But what I can't seem to get over. . the one thing I can't seem to shake is that when my momma left this world she took with her some really amazing sayings and some helpful lessons that I now will never receive.<br />
<br />
I feel the greatest loss because of that.<br />
<br />
It is NOT true. You CAN miss something you've never had. . especially if the other things you've received are SO beneficial that you know that the best is yet to come.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-mommas-obituary-there-are-not-enough.html">Elizabeth Ann Francois</a> just taught me SO much. She gave me all the tools that have gotten me this far in life.<br />
<br />
- Thank God for the good and the bad. Oftentimes they serve the same purpose; to build your spirit.<br />
- You can't love all your children the same. They are not the same. Your job is to treat them like the individuals they are; and love them the way they need you to love them.<br />
- People will use you, abuse you, and confuse you. LOVE THEM ANYWAY. But when they hurt you, do it from a distance.<br />
- Being rich has nothing to do with how much money you have in the bank. It's about how able you are to help others.<br />
- Always forgive. Not to help the person who hurt you; but to help yourself.<br />
- When you can help someone else, do it. You never know when you are going to need someone to come through for you.<br />
- When you do your best you never have to brag on yourself. People will take notice and spread the news about your awesomeness.<br />
- A no good man is just that. You cannot change him. That's God's job. <br />
- Being Christian has nothing to do with your church or how frequently you show up in your best Sunday attire, it's about allowing the spirit of Christ to shine so brightly within you that people can see him in your walk, talk, and act.<br />
- You have to be IN LOVE with yourself before you can fall in love with anyone else. Once you build yourself up you don't have to look for someone else, they will find you.<br />
<br />
I could fill a blog directory with all of the lessons my momma taught me. I was blessed for 32 years to have her in my life, and if I try hard enough I can probably recall a thousand nuggets of wisdom she placed with me.<br />
<br />
So, I'm sure you're wondering why I now feel like I left some cards on the table? Well, at the end, I just didn't take the time to sit at her feet and allow her to add to the wisdom she started planting with me..<br />
<br />
That has to be one of the most painful admissions ever. <br />
<br />
My momma was SO strong and so unrelenting in the most difficult situations. Honestly, I thought she'd kick cancer's butt, and we'd have a laugh about how the Devil tried to take her out again. <br />
<br />
That's just who she was. She was a conqueror. <br />
<br />
So, when I learned she was sick, I asked her to be straight with me. "How sick are you, Momma?" As always, she said, "I'm OK, baby." So, in my mind I thought, " I'm gonna take the next few months to wrap up these work projects, and bring Momma to stay with me this summer." Even after I went with her to chemo and saw how tired she looked, I just KNEW this was just one of those tests she had to endure so she could impart upon me the lessons she had learned.<br />
<br />
Well, I'm sure you've read <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-mommas-obituary-there-are-not-enough.html">her obituary</a>. She passed November 6, 2007. <br />
<br />
That's the day I learned the lesson people speak on, but don't really understand unless they LIVE it. Tomorrow is not promised: not even to the strongest of warriors.<br />
<br />
So, my life has changed. I don't let a day go by without telling my children I love them. I call my siblings as soon as the thought crosses my mind. Work is work. There's a time for it; but I'm not consumed by it anymore. And I've decided to be the best friend to my best friend. . not only in words, and cards, and on holiday. EVERY DAY. <br />
<br />
I can only be grateful for this final lesson my momma left me with: the reality of my own mortality. It's been a hard pill to swallow, but still I have to say thanks.<br />
<a href="http://static.thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/files/2011/12/010-momma-practice.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="http://static.thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/files/2011/12/010-momma-practice.jpg" /></a>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-56667763779697495172013-02-05T10:53:00.002-06:002013-02-05T11:59:56.989-06:00Trading Places - I'M going to be a gentlemanI'm in LOVE! And I kinda suck at this sorta thing. <br />
<br />
Mmmmmm. OK, I'll be honest. Scratch kinda and you got me dead on. <br />
<br />
So, I want to try something completely different. Since I have grown a serious disdain for Valentine's Day, I'm gonna take it - or at least the Friday after - as my opportunity to romance my man. <br />
<br />
Here's my idea. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFI0D45v9HPzTfQ5uC6Xcf-cVOGx3V35WfCXQY7BEXT_EAQGXfaD2NmcZ7Bo4XSpazXqyYF1yqyi7sy2ScXkgxO85xvdjPrunl_M7v_p-tQpa4HywLOH6cJZkjMrurOmf8712U0ySc4aM/s1600/valentines-day-wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFI0D45v9HPzTfQ5uC6Xcf-cVOGx3V35WfCXQY7BEXT_EAQGXfaD2NmcZ7Bo4XSpazXqyYF1yqyi7sy2ScXkgxO85xvdjPrunl_M7v_p-tQpa4HywLOH6cJZkjMrurOmf8712U0ySc4aM/s200/valentines-day-wallpaper.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>For Valentine's Day, I'm gonna woo my beau. Here's how I will <b>be a GENTLEMAN.</b> <br />
<br />
#1 - Flowers<br />
#2 - Card<br />
#3 - Stuffed animal<br />
#4 - Candy<br />
#5 - Opening the car door<br />
#6 - Opening the door of the restaurant<br />
#7 - Letting him walk through first<br />
#8 - Paying for the meal <br />
#9 - Compliments (Which isn't hard at all. He's gorgeous!!)<br />
#10- Pulling out the chair<br />
<br />
This is going to be really hard for me. I acknowledge that. I'm a complete sucker for a gentleman. I need that in my life. But this man that I'm in love with IS a gentleman. He's wonderful. He's really changed my life. And <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDuM2nSMX9A" target="_blank">Usher's song, Trading Places</a> has inspired me to think outside of the box when it comes to showing the man I love how much I appreciate the things he does to spoil me. <br />
<br />
I'll let you know how it goes as I try to <b>be a gentleman</b>. AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-92193306251490610062013-01-13T18:35:00.000-06:002013-01-14T08:34:24.468-06:00Know your consumer rights; especially when you are at WalMartI purchased Claritin tablets yesterday, and realized this morning that I should've gotten the Liquid Gels. I HATE to return anything but didn't see the point of being out of $20 more when I've spent several hundred at Walmart over the weekend.<br />
<br />
So on my way back from my son's basketball practice I brought the Claritin, as I had purchased it, and the receipt to the Customer Service desk.<br />
<br />
Since there was a line, I figured the best use of my time would be spent reading the return policy. By the time my turn came up I was familiar enough with the 5 or 6 paragraphs on the sign to feel prepared. <br />
<br />
I told the lady, I want to exchange these Claritin tablets for Liquid Gels, and what did she say??? A LIE!!!!!!<br />
<br />
This ignorant redhead looked me in the eye and said, "Walmart's return policy will not allow me to return or exchange those."<br />
<br />
As an informed consumer, I asked her what any informed consumer would ask. "Ok, where is the policy because THIS WalMart policy doesn't mention it."<br />
<br />
Next lie. "This policy is specific to the pharmacy, so it's on a sign in the pharmacy."<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I'm not AT ALL lazy, so I walked the 20 or so steps to the pharmacy and looked on EVERY shelf and wall. Nothing. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMYkgxrEbd5xAOA-Mg3nidRL8HfyWUl2xMi6zpH8yvk9JDx94dzK4K7Gs_lbvLMSpwfh04Qd_AOLXAbyUYTcBM1W7uTb6zv8HENkE9lfuljiuBQzJGtfkmMNMWGbHRgM7iNIOrzpF3LE/s1600/walmart_wal-mart_pharmacy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMYkgxrEbd5xAOA-Mg3nidRL8HfyWUl2xMi6zpH8yvk9JDx94dzK4K7Gs_lbvLMSpwfh04Qd_AOLXAbyUYTcBM1W7uTb6zv8HENkE9lfuljiuBQzJGtfkmMNMWGbHRgM7iNIOrzpF3LE/s320/walmart_wal-mart_pharmacy.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So I walked back to the Customer Service desk and asked the same lady to come show me the sign. I said, "I want to take a picture of it."<br />
<br />
She said she was busy, so I stood in line and asked the other lady behind the desk the same request. Poor thing obliged.<br />
<br />
This time the two of us walked the 20 or so steps back to the pharmacy, searched every shelf and wall and found no sign.<br />
<br />
So, she walked up to the pharmacy and asked the pharmacist. Not the tech, but the woman in charge that should know better.<br />
<br />
The pharmacist said, "It is not a Walmart policy, but a pharmacy policy. Would you want to purchase medicine that was opened? If we let you return it, we have to throw it away."<br />
<br />
"No. I understand that. But as a consumer, I have rights," I replied. "For instance, I have the right to know BEFORE I purchase a product that I will not be able to return it. So, show me the sign or give me my money."<br />
<br />
She sighed. She rolled her eyes. She stared at me. But wrong is wrong, so when she was done, she instructed the lady from customer service to refund my money.<br />
<br />
I didn't want it. As I initially intended to, I just returned the tablets for liquid gels. And walked my 9 year old, who was with me during all this, through the lesson of "When you are right, you don't have to be ugly, stay calm, and stand your ground."<br />
<br />
I'm a little disappointed by what happened at Walmart. I spend WAY too much money there, and will rethink that decision. I don't want to support a company that would try to pull a fast one on me.<br />
<br />
Like the title implies, you MUST know your consumer rights, and exert them.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-44052463038353372622012-12-07T16:10:00.000-06:002012-12-07T16:10:14.893-06:00I actually don't think about weight loss, everAm I in the minority? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN12PTXUIzjgj_6w7gkQP4QM4UIang-ysKZo2w-bLT86PsKtsa7W-uV_ODK3nWw8PoAl1Bvo2v0r0bIBXW6MJUeH6w0njeC9_oKP8sIBhVM0j0vyp_B-hk4bsJP7ck4EDmsBX98Puj6E/s1600/from+Blackberry+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIN12PTXUIzjgj_6w7gkQP4QM4UIang-ysKZo2w-bLT86PsKtsa7W-uV_ODK3nWw8PoAl1Bvo2v0r0bIBXW6MJUeH6w0njeC9_oKP8sIBhVM0j0vyp_B-hk4bsJP7ck4EDmsBX98Puj6E/s320/from+Blackberry+007.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I LOVE the way I look!<br />
<br />
Big breast, round ass, full cheeks. I LOVE IT ALL. Why wouldn't I?<br />
<br />
In an interview about <a href="http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2012/12/03/anne-hathaway-on-getting-used-to-her-short-do/?hpt=en_mid">Anne Hathaway's Les Miserable driven haircut and weight loss</a>, she said, "I’m a girl. Lets face it, we think about losing weight all the time.”<br />
<br />
Hmmmmm. I don't agree. WE don't think about losing weight at all. WE love ME. LOL.<br />
<br />
No, seriously. ME DO.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Walk tall. <br />
<br />
Be proud. <br />
<br />
Know that you're beautiful!<br />
<br />
BECAUSE YOU ARE!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-56100348243723918212012-11-19T15:38:00.000-06:002012-11-26T12:17:28.668-06:00How Twinkies' outcry reveals America's lack of disciplineThere are A LOT of overweight people in my family. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiY_10bJJ-mxe9N9igTpLqFKHAh4BWixf2P4PSZ2TzcfcNzBb9rNuiEZBPTrqqwgVcNQo-aLX5T2x8gXiN1zU9CoHZ4hUYtFqnc0IX2JMM9vm8X0_YZyp0UTc8G6xEgGcKH8zwovRuwHc/s1600/hostess-twinkies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiY_10bJJ-mxe9N9igTpLqFKHAh4BWixf2P4PSZ2TzcfcNzBb9rNuiEZBPTrqqwgVcNQo-aLX5T2x8gXiN1zU9CoHZ4hUYtFqnc0IX2JMM9vm8X0_YZyp0UTc8G6xEgGcKH8zwovRuwHc/s320/hostess-twinkies.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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<a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/hostess-twinkies-company-filing-bankruptcy-twinkie-survive-17759541"> end of <b>Hostess Twinkies</b></a>. <br />
<br />
According to Wikipedia, a single Twinkie contains 2.5 grams of saturated fat, representing <b>13% of the recommended daily intake of saturated fat</b> based on a 2,000 calorie diet. It is 42% sugars, 21% complex carbohydrates and 11% fat by weight.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-71567498949512435472012-11-01T11:16:00.000-05:002013-02-06T08:59:54.152-06:00Strong 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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
But when I left that company, I promised myself that I would not be a leader who crushes the women around her. <br />
<br />
Fast forward to today: <br />
<br />
Everyone who works with me knows that I'm all about the process:<br />
<br />
- First you do this. <br />
- Then you do this. <br />
- Then you do this.<br />
- You do it all on time and on budget.<br />
- Then you report on how what you did made a difference. <br />
<br />
THE END. <br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2012/07/keep-saying-good-morning-chicken-little.html">Chicken Little</a>. 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. <br />
<br />
And without trying, I became my previous employer. I was honest, but that was all. I crushed my co-worker. I SAW the tears.<br />
<br />
I apologized. But I have to work on me. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2012/10/what-mother-teaches-her-daughter.html">I have a daughter</a> that I raise to respect all people; especially other women. <br />
<br />
How do you do it? <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
How do you do it? I don't know. I continue to pray about this. <br />
<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-33568971866239653582012-10-16T16:20:00.002-05:002013-02-06T09:00:43.204-06:00What a Mother Teaches Her DaughterI've always said that I don't want to be my daughter's friend. She's in college now, and nothing's changed. <br />
<br />
- We're never EVER gonna be club pals. Hellllllll nawwwwwwwwwww!<br />
- She's not gonna be able to be around me cussing up a storm. <br />
- We won't get matching tattoos.<br />
- Yes and No Ma'am will never become an outdated way of replying to my questions.<br />
- I'm not going to hit her up for money when I blow through mine, or expect her to cover me on my bills.<br />
- We will not date out of the same pool of guys.<br />
- She can't ever hurt my feelings, and make me turn my back on her.<br />
- No one will enter a room and catch us in a fist-fight. <br />
- She's not going to be the one I call up when I need to vent about getting my heart broken.<br />
- We won't enter a pact to get pregnant or give birth at the same time. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXk9P_vs550c8i41p1MPEPgoorsaLfyl21ENPOa11lqFJ6VILDgqW2GCnfvlydwlf9Zmta_wsQU0rwKhF95MNfOkzKXjrZtZwxgfZ9DQF6XuS8lDFJZEUEVIuB5dE14EjMdap5YbqWqo/s1600/me_and_erica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXk9P_vs550c8i41p1MPEPgoorsaLfyl21ENPOa11lqFJ6VILDgqW2GCnfvlydwlf9Zmta_wsQU0rwKhF95MNfOkzKXjrZtZwxgfZ9DQF6XuS8lDFJZEUEVIuB5dE14EjMdap5YbqWqo/s320/me_and_erica.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
So, my life will forever be focused on teaching my daughter life lessons:<br />
<br />
- How beautiful she is inside and out. <br />
- All the reasons she is SO love-able. <br />
- How to keep things that hurt her from destroying her.<br />
- Why family is so important. <br />
- How to stand on her own two feet.<br />
- Who to turn to when it seems like there's no one in her corner. (GOD)<br />
- How important it is to know when to stay and when to go.<br />
- That it's OK to fall down as long as she loves yourself enough to get up and keep it moving.<br />
- Why she shouldn't waste energy on trying to make everyone happy.<br />
- How I know that EVERY good thing comes from God.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
A FUNNY, HARDWORKING, STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, SMART, LOVING, PASSIONATE, FORGIVING, GOD-FEARING MOTHER.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Sometimes, I have to glance back at <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-wow-what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this.html">an essay my daughter wrote</a>, that reminds me of what she sees. <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-wow-what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this.html"> http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-wow-what-did-i-do-to-deserve-this.html </a><br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-89358689939465186372012-08-20T11:40:00.002-05:002012-08-21T14:04:33.226-05:00Paris, 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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw62jWZ9t6EmMlQKh0j13DFYZWOL_AQMP8G_-IKL7LPsJZFtx3qPLKSWxQKDjO7DsyXJ6KHmLrXbU1n9PXcuPbmihz0mdxbgNTO-F_slnJv5AZOyksK2ORN2r29QSCvqIWnzSymegNDbc/s1600/paris_the_pest.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw62jWZ9t6EmMlQKh0j13DFYZWOL_AQMP8G_-IKL7LPsJZFtx3qPLKSWxQKDjO7DsyXJ6KHmLrXbU1n9PXcuPbmihz0mdxbgNTO-F_slnJv5AZOyksK2ORN2r29QSCvqIWnzSymegNDbc/s320/paris_the_pest.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Nope! VICTORY IS MINE!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
Now, that's a battle for another day.<br />
<br />
This is another episode of God's Humor brought to you my me. . who tends to catch the punch lines.<br />
<br />
AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-24381331652618689362012-07-30T12:08:00.000-05:002012-11-07T13:17:06.865-06:00Keep saying good morning, CHICKEN LITTLEI HAVE to develop patience for the <b>Chicken Littles</b> 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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
You know 'em. You see them all the time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04_4I8Dcp1kceKAraoqNNkBTAaEOyxZPVLtqQ9xtUUiCauLlaqPS-OUxD5bxGY-CCrbwfbcErkOHm3FrN3SnoNK1H6qwKORGO8Rys3h9fOrL_s2ZppaLCBm0Tb3tZRmc1LIUUAZ6RQmc/s1600/chickenlittle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04_4I8Dcp1kceKAraoqNNkBTAaEOyxZPVLtqQ9xtUUiCauLlaqPS-OUxD5bxGY-CCrbwfbcErkOHm3FrN3SnoNK1H6qwKORGO8Rys3h9fOrL_s2ZppaLCBm0Tb3tZRmc1LIUUAZ6RQmc/s320/chickenlittle.jpg" /></a></div><br />
-- They've never been really poor. And I'm referring to the <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-changing-lesson-brought-to-you-by.html">poor of my childhood</a>. 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. <br />
<b>HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES:</b> 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.<br />
<br />
-- 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."<br />
<b>HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES:</b> 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.<br />
<br />
-- 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.<br />
<b>HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES:</b> 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. . "<br />
<br />
- - 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. <br />
<b>HOW TO IDENTIFY THESE CHICKEN LITTLES:</b> Depending on their tool for over-indulgence, it may be a few things.. Be creative. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
One day even the most green <b>Chicken Littles</b> 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<IFRAME SRC="http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N7433.148119.BLOGGEREN/B6536010.1187;sz=300x250;ord=[timestamp]?;lid=41000613802464048;pid=23464314;usg=AFHzDLsuEYgKjm5dB4fpMhC4yAYVKCHuRg;adurl=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.officemax.com%252Ftechnology%252Fdrives-memory-storage%252Fhard-drives-usb-drives%252Fusb-flash-drives%252Fproduct-prod4200146%253Fcm_mmc%253DPerformics-_-Technology-_-Drives%252C%252520Memory%252520and%252520Storage-_-Hard%252520Drives%252520and%252520USB%252520Drives%2526ci_src%253D14110944%2526ci_sku%253D23464314;pubid=594610;price=%2417.98;title=Family+Guy+Giant+Chicken+8GB+USB+Flash+Drive+FG-CHICKEN%2F8GB;merc=OfficeMax;imgsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.officemax.com%2Fcatalog%2Fimages%2F397x353%2F23464314i_01.jpg;width=151;height=135" WIDTH=300 HEIGHT=250 MARGINWIDTH=0 MARGINHEIGHT=0 HSPACE=0 VSPACE=0 FRAMEBORDER=0 SCROLLING=no BORDERCOLOR='#000000'/>re open to . . the real.<br />
<br />
I'm praying for one particular Chicken Little. God please be there for this person because she/he knows not what she/says says or where she/he is. Be there for her so as she is exposed to the real, she doesn't fall apart and shoot a bunch of folks in a movie theatre. <br />
<br />
I'm just saying.. this kinda shit happens.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-72291821385159336522012-07-12T14:59:00.000-05:002013-02-06T09:01:32.267-06:00I always feel like somebody's watching meWhen 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:<br />
<br />
- I have 3 kids that I LOOOOOOVE<br />
- I'm a certifiable news junkie. . especially when it comes to international news.<br />
- My drink of choice is a glass of wine.<br />
- I classify myself as a Christian, but I have a pretty "colorful" vocab nonetheless.<br />
- I love my job at Heifer International. (Which is weird if I find myself at a job interview, right?)<br />
- I often travel.<br />
- I attract stalkers. One of which is a serious flower sender. <br />
- I tend to listen to R&B music. Usually ole school.<br />
- I'm intense. When I love you, I love you. When I hate you. . you're pretty much invisible.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17gBNhrQIad0IhKnUjkq-oOutXNOnX9Zt512kfNk6iiwF2LIKVTDgMCQ93NAgpoInBBYiQaeuQWal4aicnUTPeejLzoLywizwue138TiYAv06Nut24bqBWf_EfFE1OOZlmVYq50HjYts/s1600/social-media-icons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="163" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi17gBNhrQIad0IhKnUjkq-oOutXNOnX9Zt512kfNk6iiwF2LIKVTDgMCQ93NAgpoInBBYiQaeuQWal4aicnUTPeejLzoLywizwue138TiYAv06Nut24bqBWf_EfFE1OOZlmVYq50HjYts/s320/social-media-icons.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong. Noone is gonna <a href="https://twitter.com/anasthiaj">follow me on Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/anasthia">friend me on Facebook</a>, or <a href="www.youtube.com/user/independentfemale">subscribe to me on YouTube</a>, and think, "Wow! Anasthia deserves to be endowed with Sainthood." Ha! But wouldn't that be a trip if they did?? LOL<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
If you don't believe it, check out this <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/07/11/tech/social-media/facebook-jobs-resume/index.html?hpt=hp_bn5">CNN article</a>.<br />
<br />
Yeah, I always got back up.<br />
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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, <a href="http://youtu.be/1_Zrj5fmgys">Somebody's watching you, too</a>.AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6235898533033728743.post-41525135217282328152012-07-02T15:54:00.000-05:002013-02-06T09:07:03.121-06:00Three Stalkers are EnoughEvery 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. <br />
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NEVER. HA!<br />
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Here's the deal. I LOVE challenges. I kinda have an addiction for them. <br />
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<b>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. </b><br />
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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!<br />
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Give me some attention, but don't try to move in within the first 3 months.<br />
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Check on me sometimes, but 12 text messages and 5 phone calls in a day. . REALLY?? You ain't got shit else to do?<br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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But guess what? You're gonna love this. I HATE that!<br />
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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!<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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!!<br />
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Taking a break. . a long break. to figure out where ya girl is going wrong. <br />
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I can't take another stalker. Or another <a href="http://lifeasitdoes.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-are-ex-here-are-rules.html">ex who does not respect the breakup rules</a>. <blockquote></blockquote>AJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06985840707704167984noreply@blogger.com3