He's been spending the night every weekend

And it's getting old. I want my bed back, I want my freedom. Yesterday, he stopped by and I let him overhear me talking about my friends bonfire party this weekend at the beach so that he knows I have plans this weekend that don't include him. He's antisocial so he'd never want to go but I'll invite him anyway for good measure ;) Things have been good between us but I can feel the tension from time to time, like an argument is brewing. We'll disagree about something minor and rather than full out challenge me like he used to, he'll hold back because he knows it could lead to him being 86'd and there are way too many perks at my house that he doesn't want to lose :) It's okay that we disagree at times, just know when to fold 'em and walk away like I do. We'll agree to disagree and that's perfectly fine. I never have been one to enjoy arguing. Not every issue warrants a battle so pick and choose wisely.

Anyway, I need a break but I'm not sure how to tell him this without him taking it the wrong way. Ugh.

My hair

Here are the hair pics I said I'd post. In case you didn't read, I'm giving my semi-damaged hair a break from heat styling and now I'm trying to find a cute style I can wear natural. the bangs will no longer curl so they're straight, which looks a little odd to me. Maybe in a couple of months they'll at least wave up some.

The return of good friends, facebook, and glamour shots

This past Saturday I had lunch with a friend I hadn't seen or spoken to in something like 20 years. She looks exactly the same, three kids later, and we picked up just about where we left off. I can tell precisely where she is in her life, too, and that's because I've been there. She's antsy, she's wondering what else she can discover about herself, feeling like she's stuck in a never-ending circle while life is going on without her. We ate, talked and shopped for about 4 hours. I came dressed for walking and shopping - tennis shoes, jeans, t-shirt. She came dressed to party - high heels, strategically ripped jeans, and sporting much cleavage. She talked about her husband and kids and the house they've outgrown, the backyard that's overgrown, and how she often fantasizes about the "what -if's" and what not. I related, told her about my time spent in her position and about my bucket list, my trip to Hawaii with my son, which was sort of a coming of age trip, and where I am now. I saw that she understood.

Her mom passed away this April and she's been putting on such a good face, but she just sent me a message on facebook today saying how on Father's Day she'd had somewhat of a melt down. Then, as if ashamed of being sad, her message perked up and she said "hey! Remember our talk about Bucket Lists?" I'd apparently inspired her to write her's out and one of the things she says she wants to do is take a bunch of glamour shots before she gets too old and stuff. lol. She's only 35. But I know exactly where she's coming from because a couple of years ago, I was right where she is.

Taking glamour shots isn't on my list of things to do but I have thought about it a time or two while perusing magazines and lingering over certain celebrity photo shoots. You look at some of these stars and know that they don't look as glamorous on a regular day as they do in those photos. They look happy and perfect and pensive all at once. So I told her "sure" I'd be down.

"Immortalize my shit," (c) Bill Bellamy.

So we're planning to do this. I'm doing it moreso for her and because I think it'd be fun. I think she's doing it because she has doubts about herself and needs affirmation from a bunch of pictures. Regardless of why either of us are doing it I'm sure it'll be great and we'll have something else to bond over.

Right after I read her message on facebook, I read another message from my aunt, my mother's younger sister in St. Louis. On June 8th, her teenaged son made a status update about family drama, lies, and "bullshit." I tried to cheer him up, impart some words of wisdom and he took them as me being snotty, trying to talk shit. After a while I stopped trying to defend and explain myself and just quit responding to him, realizing then that he was batshit crazy and the actual drama monger that he was describing in his update. Fast forward to yesterday and my other younger cousin, who is supposedly a minister, lol, chimes in on that same post from June 8th, trying to check me. Bewildered, I cussed her grown ass out. Then here comes the crazy shit talking teenage boy again, typing like a true lunatic and basically waging war on me. I tried to keep my cool but I was in total disbelief and told him that it was clear he had mental issues which he could keep,"fuck off." Then I deleted him from my friends' list. Next thing I know I'm having a back and forth battle on facebook with his mother, my aunt, who is supposedly grown and sexy, according to her facebook page. She's typing in all caps, I guess to get her point across, and leaving nasty messages on my voicemail. At some point she must realize how stupid she is. Or maybe not, which astounds me. I can't help but wonder what she feels she has accomplished. She certainly hasn't proven to be an adult or anyone with a shred of good sense. And she damn sure hasn't frightened me. I've decided to ignore her. Is she making plans to travel to California to keep it real? Lol, highly unlikely. But this is the culture of the internet, it seems. This week alone, just reading friends and family members' facebook pages I've seen how vicious and cowardly people can be while sitting behind a computer screen. Thankfully, this isn't my life. I'll be deleting my facebook page soon, maybe in about a week or so. Or maybe I'll just be deleting more people from my friends' list and logging on less. We'll see.

Give us free! (c) my curls

Last week I decided to set my hair free. No flat iron, no blow dryer or heat styling of any kind…indefinitely. I suspected that, as of result of stress, I was thinning out at bit on the top of my head and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Oh hell no. So I researched hair vitamins on the net (lol), placed an order, Googled “curly hair styles” and “curly hair care,” washed my ‘do, and have been curly ever since. I learned that I have a mix of 3A and 3B hair, and a small portion is damaged from all the years of heat styling; also, that I should nix any hair care product with alcohol, Lanolin, or paraffin in it because it ruins curly hair. I sort of feel handicapped now, like I’m all thumbs, because I can’t quite figure out what to do with my ‘do. Today I just re-wet it and let it hang to air dry. My bangs won’t curl anymore from all the heat styling, so I cheated just a little bit and bumped them with the curling iron this morning. I’ve been kind of creative with parting my hair and using tortoise shell barrettes, which is more than I can say for the last time I decided to set my hair free. I had no idea what to do with it then, so I either clipped it up, bunned it up, or left it down, which got boring fast. Honestly, I love my hairs’ texture; it just doesn’t go with my face, lol. Every hairstyle photo I downloaded from the net had a narrow faced model. My face is round. Big and round, in fact, so I have to have some sort of bangs. But I have no clue how to fashion curly bangs. I aim to find out, though. I’m going to find the perfect natural hairstyle for me if it kills me. I’ll post a picture soon.

LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS!!!!

That was a GREAT game! Whew! I thought I was going to have a heart attack. :D

Happy Happy, Joy Joy

When I take inventory of my life and some of the things that I've fought for and accomplished that I thought, at the time, would make me happy in the long run, I realize that not all of them actually have. I don't have a lot of regrets. Just a few that stand out to me like neon lights, and I can't get past them. They've been occupying prime real estate in my mind for a while now and I'm not sure what to do with them. I'm talking about things that I've done in the name of happiness, present or deferred. Back when I made these particular choices, I felt relief but never happiness. Now I'm wondering if that was relief because I thought that my choices would make me happy later. Later, I'd be happy. Not then and there. Not that day, but someday. What a gamble. I was planning to be happy. Yet now, 10, 15 years later all I am is remorseful. This is not meant to be a woe is me post. I'm just mulling over some stuff. As I posted yesterday, lately I've been floating on sunshine. That's what prompted this post - my sudden happiness. How do I control it? I went from stressed and miserable, to don't worry, be happy. lol. And I couldn't see it coming. It was suddenly just there. What's funny is, before it had shown up, I was in the throes of planning for it, going about each day frantically trying to do the things that I thought would make me happy, and none of it has. I just suddenly began to feel happy. Every day this week has felt like Friday and I'm not exactly sure why. Though I have a few ideas. Nothing that has convinced me yet, though. Which leads me to the conclusion that my judgment is clearly OFF, lol. All these years of practice and planning my happiness and I can't even say that I'm getting better at it. I'm probably mostly really getting lucky :)

Can happiness be learned? Can you plan it? Are you predisposed to it? I read somewhere that, to varying degrees, you are. I don't think anybody really knows. Every psych doctor has an opinion though (and a book about it). Happiness is personal, in my opinion. What makes me happy is totally unique to me. Now, if I could just figure out how to stay this way...I would.

When my son was little and he thought someone was sad or upset or scared he'd lovingly and sincerely instruct them to think happy thoughts, like Peter Pan. It was cute and it always made you smile.

I've had an abundance of great days lately...

...that I've neglected to write about. Sorry. Haven't felt like writing much so here's the rundown:

1. As it turns out, *Irwin wasn't behaving badly. His teacher was. We thought he'd ditched a class because his teacher had forgotten that he and another boy were working on a project FOR HER CLASS in the library, so she mistakenly marked him absent. And we were JUST about to inflict corporal punishment on him. "Oops" was all she had to say when confronted. Boy, if I wasn't civilized...

2. I still took *Irwin's phone, demanded the password, and went through it. What I found shook me to my core. One of his oldest and closest friends - they go back to third grade - just took Ecstasy :( He recently moved to the Inland Empire and met "a cute lil white girl" who gave him a brownie with it baked inside. I am dying to tell his super church-going father but I can't. He swore my son to secrecy and I'm not sure it's my business. What to do? what to do!? And how do I ensure that my son NEVER gets influenced? Oh man.

3. My ex has a theory that my son is slacking in school because all he can think about is "Coochie! Coochie! Coochie!" :/ I think he is correct.

4. I think I have a boyfriend. We went to sushi happy hour, got some frozen yogurt, and then went to the movies the other day. He sat through Sex and the City, two. Before that, we went to the museum and talked shit about European art (why does damn near every woman have a titty hanging out? lol). He cooked me dinner twice last week, too. I'm thoroughly enjoying his company. We've hung out three weekends in a row so far, and the only reason we aren't hanging out this weekend is because I have plans to hang out with a long lost girlfriend.

There's more but I'm being lazy.

5. Facebook does it again! I was found by an old high school girlfriend. We met in the tenth grade and were like rice and beans (inseparable) until my ex best friend shoved a wedge between us. Anyway, she sent me a private message, we added one another to our friends' list, I called her and ran off at the mouth, and the next day she texted me asking to hang out. So we're meeting each other in Santa Clarita this weekend - halfway between her home in Lancaster, and mine in Pasadena. I can hardly wait. It's been almost 20 years! (I'm aging myself, lol)

6. My son is passing every class this semester...despite having coochie on his brain. HALLELUJAH! It's by the grace of God, no doubt.

7. Just one hour ago, I completed something very near and dear to me. It was a long and exhausting road but I made it in one piece, standing tall. I'm so proud of me.

That's all I can think of right now. More tomorrow.

Oh, Irwin... *smh

As a parent, it’s natural to worry... right? Growing up, my mother worried constantly about me. If I wasn’t home from school at precisely the minute I usually walked through the front door, she was lacing up her sneakers and heading out to look for me. She walked me to the city bus stop every morning, waited with me, and kissed me goodbye in front of L.A. traffic, until I protested in the 8th grade. It didn’t matter to her that I was significantly taller than her, wore the same bra size that she did, and that people might mistake us for lesbians.

Until this day, my mom worries about me. Whenever I am out late, she demands that I call her as soon as I get home. And if I forget to call, she wakes me up in the middle of the night with a phone call, telling me she was worried. I’m 35 years old and my momma still worries about me. However, throughout all of my years, I have rarely ever done anything I wasn’t supposed to do. I was Old Reliable (still am, truth be told), you could count on me to do the right thing. So my mother never worried that I would do something wrong; she worried that someone else would do something wrong to me.

But my son? He’s just the flippin’ opposite of me. Even more naïve than I was because he was raised away from the inner city, but on top of that, he’s extremely hard headed. Visually, he is my spitting image but personality-wise we are night and day, onion and tomato, oil and water.

Being Old Reliable, I have done everything within my power that I can imagine to ensure that he stays on the straight and narrow. Yet all he’s done is try to figure out ways to outsmart me, failing every time. I am beyond frustrated and worried that he is going to grow up to be a huge loser… and I will die from worrying about him.

There are times when I try to have faith that he’ll be alright, and I try not to worry so much. I’ll compare him to other kids I know – his cousins, friends, my friends’ kids, etc. – and I realize that he is not sailing this boat to Losersville alone. In fact, many of them are worse off than he is. Which leads me to wonder, what the fuck is going on? Where the hell did we all go wrong?? On Facebook a few of his cousins and friends have added me to their friends’ list and 9 out of ten of them can’t spell or string a sentence together for shit. And they’re older than he is! And three of the main culprits have graduated high school. No college, though. Of course, they all still live at home, mooching off their parents, with very little indication that they will ever leave Losersville. I’m telling you, parenting is highly overrated.

This evening his father is coming over to bust up his shit. Literally. I’ll be removing the computer and cell phone from his possession asap. Otherwise, they, too, will get busted up. Dad is pissed, as he should be. Hopefully, this time though, his point will get across to that thick-domed one that is our son.

About the title: When he was much younger we used to call him "Irwin" after Danny Devito's character from the movie "Throw Mama From the Train." (Later, we found out that his characters' name was really Owen, but Irwin stuck) We'd tease him, saying "Irwin loves his mama." Well, today he's looking more and more like frickin' Irwin :( destined to be living with his mama until she dies.

Sitting in my backyard, on my laptop

under my pergola, enjoying this warm California weather. My vacation is over. Tomorrow I go back to business as usual. I enjoyed my time off. Yesterday, we went to the Norton Simon museum, stopped in Old Town for some of Bella's Pizza, and then went across the street to Dot's cupcakes before taking a stroll down Colorado. Saturday we celebrated Memorial Day with a cookout in my backyard. I bought a kiddie pool to rest our feet in and we ate and ate and laughed and talked until the sun went down around 8 pm-ish. Then I watched the movie "Taken" with the guy who's wooing me. He set up my pergola the day before, and mowed the backyard. We've been getting along splendidly. All week we hung out, shopping, eating, movie going, cooking, chilling...I've enjoyed his company immensely. He's sitting next to me as I type this, playing jazz on his laptop while perusing the net. Later on I'll straighten up my house, cook dinner, shower, read a little and get ready for the rest of the week back at work. He'll be at home by then.

Feeling Good

Tomorrow should be perfect. We spent the day preparing for our Memorial Day cookout. The backyard is freshly mowed, the adirondack chairs were scrubbed clean, the pergola is up with colorful lanterns hanging from it, the grill has been cleaned and the house is half-way clean, lol. Now, all I need to do is polish my toe nails, go to bed, and wake up to prepare the rest of the grub I bought from Costco this afternoon. The "Grill Master" will be here bright and early in the morning. Blankets, water toys, PoKeno boards with red chips, barbecue, sunshine, music, family and friends. Gonna be a great Saturday :)

He bought me a bible

Seriously. He told me (during our 3am phone conversation because I couldn't sleep) that I was losing faith and forgetting that God is with me, always has been, and always will be. My life is up to me and it can go whatever way I choose. Choice, not chance, determines your destiny. So he bought me a bible to remind me. This bible, as a matter of fact, and I'm glad he did. At first I denied, denied, denied, and became defensive at the suggestion. I believe in God, I hadn't forgotten. But after reading the first 10 pages or so of my new bible, I realized that he was right. I had forgotten, and my anxiety and frustration was largely because I had lost faith in myself and behaved as though I was going it alone. Despite all of my blessings, my family and friends, and all the times I've worried for nothing, because, in the end, things always turn out right.

I had forgotten that I am only in control of my choices, the free will that was given to me at birth. I did not create myself and I alone cannot sustain my life. Neither of those two things I can control. Just my choices. And God never gives us more than we were designed to bear. Life becomes much easier to live when grace is your perception.

I don't know what the future holds, neither do I know why any of us are here, why we're all unique, why we live and die, why water is wet, and why everything, every single thing, has its place in this world, in this universe. But I do know what is. I don't have to understand how God works to believe in God. I don't need to know why to know that I am. Likewise, I don't question God to know that He is. My proof is the very stuff I am made of.

God is infinite and a finite mind cannot understand the infinite. (c) Genesis

I had an astronomy teacher who said that within every living thing on Earth is star bits. We're all, literally, made up of the same things that stars are. Science explains that all the elements on Earth heavier than hydrogen originated inside stars. The iron that carries oxygen in your blood was created when a star died. Everything is connected, and I believe that is by God's perfect design. Not chance. The same creator of those billions of unimaginably distant galaxies full of stars also created us ;) .

So I'm fumbling around a lot less these days, slowly rediscovering my divinity, coming out of a fog, but still fragile, still human. Step by step and I'll be right where I'm supposed to be, as long as I choose what I know in my heart is right and keep going. Life is too short to waste time stuck and worrying. Jump, and the net will appear.

The bible is the best gift he has given me. It was thoughtful and sincere, in my opinion, and it may have saved me from detouring down a treacherous path.

All that to say...I'm BACK ON TRACK! :D

I need a happy hour

I'm on vacation and I can barely relax. A week just isn't long enough for my mind to unwind, so I feel more and more anxious with each hour that goes by. The clock is ticking and I have so much to do, so much that needs to be done, that I've been putting off in favor of earning a living. My fear is that all of my errands and chores will eat up my Me time and, before I know it, I'll go back to business as usual. Stressed and anxious, wired and ready to bust, feeling out of control and sleepless, having accomplished nothing.

What I need to do is chuck my watch, cover the clocks, get loose, and let things fall where they may. Now, if only I can convince myself to allow that to happen, I'd surely be on vacation.

Maybe tomorrow.

I love my brain :)

So I’ve been riding my bike and trying my best not to look like a dork while doing so, although that has been kind of a challenge, lol. What, with my 8-ball helmet and all. I figure if I have to wear a helmet by California law, I’d like to stand out from the rest and be a little creative with it, have a little flair. So rather than wearing one of those aerodynamic-looking dork helmets I opted for the rounded 8-ball to protect my brain (see link below) – equally dorky, yet somehow quite fashionableJ. And it matches my bell. You gotta coordinate © John Witherspoon

Every time I get ready to roll I have to spend a few minutes working on eliminating my smile because the mere thought of wearing that helmet makes me feel so goofy and self-conscious that I’m incredibly giggly. Then, when I get out there on the road, I realize that anyone I pass won’t recognize me elsewhere without it, and I don’t plan to wear the helmet unless I’m on the bike, so it’s okay. No one will know it’s me. Or, at least I tell myself that. And then I see the other dorks on the road wearing biker shorts and form fitting shirts with equally ridiculous protective gear, so that helps take some of the pressure off. When I bought the bike, and my friend laughed at me in the store after I tried on a couple of helmets, I had initially decided that I’d go riding sans head gear. Then that Monday I got to work and learned that my coworkers’ girlfriend had gotten hit by a car with an old man behind the wheel. She hit the pavement, her helmet cracked almost in half, and the old man had a panic attack and was rushed to the hospital. Thankfully, it was her $300 helmet that cracked and not her head, right? I remember that video they showed us in Drivers Ed of the motorcyclist who’s head literally cracked open, spilling his brains all over the road L. It was enough to send me right back to Sport Chalet for a little life insurance. My helmet was only $50 though, but as big as it is and with all the padding inside, I think I’ll be alright.

Anyway, while looking dorkish I am also saving my life, saving some gas money, thus saving a little bit of the environment, and getting some sunshine and a nice workout in the process. The pros definitely outweigh the cons.

Here's the helmet (the back says "I love my brain." I'll probably take a picture of that later):

http://www.sportchalet.com/product/302058_3034593.do

I left the white boy hanging

It's been two weeks since this past Friday that I said I'd call him and I haven't. I tried to get around to it but then I realized that I really don't want to. He just doesn't move me in any way and I slightly feel bad about that. Ah well! These are the breaks. It's happened to me and I'm sure it's happened to him before too. Par for the course. What sucks though is that now I'm afraid to answer my cellphone when I don't recognize the number, lol. I've actually been thinking of excuses to use in case he calls and catches me. I even considered saying I lost my phone or broke it or somehow lost the ability to use it :/ But it's really not worth lying. I think I'll just fess up if he calls me, and let him know that I don't believe we're compatible and I was just too chicken shit to say so.

For Mothers Day my Ex surprised me with a dozen roses and a home-cooked seafood dinner. I was so shocked, that I ran and got my camera and took about a dozen photos of my flowers and posted one on Facebook. Ha! I only recall ever receiving a single rose throughout our entire relationship together. (Some corny shit he thought was cool back in the day. I was just touched that he’d thought of me. Although, at the time I suspected he stole it from someone’s bouquet and figured he’d try to get some brownie points for having really done nothing at all.) And then after we broke up he bought me a mix of flowers that following year for Mother’s Day, which was just as nice as this years roses.

On the phone a couple of days prior to the rose surprise, while making plans to have him cook for me, he casually mentioned that he had never thought that he would wake up without me. His exact words. He went on to say that he knows he’s not perfect and that he made a bunch of mistakes throughout our relationship (amen) but even on his darkest days, when he was angry with me for leaving him and lashing out, he was really angry with himself. He never stopped loving me. I sat there and kind of did what they do on TV and stared off into the camera, you know? At that moment, I needed a witness. :)

Has he changed? Hmm, well, I’m not so sure. That still remains to be seen. Two bouquets of flowers, regular bible reading, and missing me isn’t hard enough proof, frankly. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m happy for him. He’s had an epiphany and that’s great, because he never believed me when I told him he was fucking up, lol. I’ve noticed small changes in him here and there but I don’t trust that his nature has completely changed, don't know if the person I could no longer live with is still within him. I’m not sure that I could ever live with him again but for now we are pretty good friends. Even better than before, and I couldn’t be happier about it. *Knock on wood

In Limbo

I make my bed every day, shower, cook, clean, run my errands. These are about the only things I feel in control of as I wait. And the waiting isn’t easy. I feel as if I’m going to bust, like I’m holding my breath waiting for the air to clear so that I can breathe again. So every morning I hop out of my bed and begin pulling the sheets taut again, neatly fluffing and arranging pillows, jotting down daily plans that can be achieved… as I wait for the signal that I can move out of limbo. I have another set of plans written down, the ones that I can begin once I get that green light to exhale, but I just stare at those, sigh, and pray that I don’t lose my mind in the meantime. It’s tough being here…especially when I could be somewhere else, somewhere much more to my liking. But my friend Patty believes that I have the “patience of a saint” so I’m trying to hold on, though I know my patience has long since worn thin.

Lot on my mind

This week has been somewhat of an adjustment for me, preparing for the next chapter. Last night sleeping wasn’t easy. I think I got about 6 hours in, but I usually get at least 8. And of those 6, 4 were probably REM. I really don’t know why I struggled last night. I think I’m just anxious and ready to get things rolling. I hope I can keep the tossing and turning down to a minimum tonight because I was operating on fumes today. Surprisingly, my productivity didn’t suffer though.

Even with my worries and perceived woes, I’m more stressed There than I am Here.

It has also been a bit of a struggle to adapt to some of the other changes I’ve made to my life. I’m finding myself stuck in between a past of semi-destructive behavior and a constructive future. Old habits are calling me but I’m determined to move forward. I’ve learned a lot about myself and those around me over the last two years. Up next: just being still.

Sorry, I can't really be detailed with this one.

Kicks

My super fresh sneaks showed up yesterday and turned out to be not so fresh. Yes, I’m back to ordering stuff off the internet. I know, I never learn. But this time I ordered from a well known company with clearly defined return policies – Puma – so I’m doing better. I bought two pairs of shoes and waited impatiently for over a week to receive them. Yesterday when I got home I ripped open the box and realized that I only liked one pair in person, and not the other. However, the pair that I like isn’t true to size so I have to return it, reorder a bigger size and wait anxiously for the new pair to arrive. Ugh. This reminds me of the time I desperately wanted a pair of CBS sneakers in 4th grade. Only Leed’s sold them. Who’s old enough to remember Leed’s Shoe’s though!? lol

My older cousin, Chrissy had a couple of pairs of CBS’s and they were the cutest little sneakers in the world to me at that time. My mom took me to Leed’s on several occasions to get a pair but they never had my size in stock. In hindsight, I’m wondering what the heck was really going on.How could they never get my size in? I was heart broken for a good while over that and I think it’s partly the reason why I go nuts over shoes today. It’s all Mr. Leeds’ fault. I will never forget the Chinese boot incident, as much as I wish I could. But there was a happy ending to that story, thankfully.

Anyway, I’m only slightly leery that this will be a fruitless exercise. Puma has a better reputation than the Chinese bootleggers of getting the right goods to you without issue. And in any event, I still have Citi card on my side to work out any sudden kinks.

Here's the pair I like:

Road Warrior

I got my bike!!! Farmers Market, Von's, Ralph's, Marshall's, library, thrift store, etc., HERE I COME!

Now all I need is a reliable lock or two. Oh, I also bought a black wire basket and an 8-ball bell to match :) I'll have to take a picture of the bike with that stuff later. When I bought it I'd decided to ride it outside of the mall and Sport Chalet, to the parking lot rather than walk it through the entire mall, and my friend said that I hit the corner on it grinning hard and never looked back, lol. I'm sure I very much resembled a huge dork but I was happy. Sue me.

So I'll be saving a little bit of gas, a little bit of the environment, and getting a work out all at once.

Great deal ;)

Which bridges to burn and which to cross?

Recently I went on a bridge burning rampage. It all started after I had gotten fed up with a certain fat bastard with t-rex arms who shall remain nameless. I spent that afternoon boiling mad, mulling over my options, needing a sounding board and Jesus. After a full day of coming to terms with my feelings and noticing who was on hand that gave a shit, I had decided that I was done trying to build bridges with difficult people unwilling or unable to meet me in the middle, and that some of the bridges I had tried to build never really existed in the first place, so I burned what was left of them. I didn't do this recklessly, although it was sudden and came as a shock to some. My movements were calculated and the choices wise, in my opinion. Did I hate to see years of my hard work go up in smoke? Of course, but half a bridge is useless so what's the point in holding on to it?

What I did was appropriate and even necessary for me to begin new construction elsewhere.

I have friendship baggage

For many years I've endured fair weather, hateful, catty, inconsiderate, small-minded friends and they've taken their toll on my spirit. In essence, none of them were friends. Just a bunch of folks I knew. So one by one I broke up with them, found my distance and put my dukes up, ready for the next faux friend to come my way. Then I met some halfway decent folks (PG, JS, LW...) and while they are great to me in that humanly flawed way, I still sort of have my dukes up, just in case :(

I'm becoming a little more trusting but I still have a very low tolerance for bullshit. My relationship with those who haven't quite proven themselves trustworthy remains precariously perched on the edge of doom. Anything even remotely resembling foolishness could end it all in the blink of an eye. No, I take that back. I'm still, by nature, a very giving and forgiving person so my 3 strikes rule usually stands...and expands, given whatever the circumstances are.

Anyway, I'm highly sensitive when it comes to friendship. I don't take it lightly at all. I'm a Judy Blume novel come to life and I expect my friends to be there for me the way that I'm there for them. And if they can't, well, then I don't consider them a friend and sometimes we can't even be associates.

The biggest part of being a friend is being there for someone when it doesn't suit YOU, throughout all types of weather (c) Me.

Plans for the next 6-9 months

In no particular order...

- Travel to Jamaica

- Finish birthing the elephant

- hang a chandelier by myself

- learn roller derby

- Make a few new friends

- perfect my sales pitch

- buy a bike and ride it

- reevaluate my goals and the steps I need to take to achieve them

- finish that thing I started...and then start another one

Today was a rough day for me but I survived it (thank God). Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.

Good night

Skate or die?

So I tried dodgeball a while back and it was pretty cool. But I think I want to try roller derby next :D

http://derbydolls.com/la

The L.A. Ri-ettes or the Tough Cookies, maybe.

Of course, I'll go to a match first, though.

There’s a bridal shop on Fair Oaks Avenue not too far from my house that I used to pass every morning on my way to work, and every day without fail I’d slow down a little bit to admire the dresses in the window and fantasize about my dream wedding and my ideal relationship. Perhaps it was a steady diet of Cinderella stories growing up that caused me to do that then and remain hopeful now, even if just a little bit, that fairy tales do exist. I was in a relationship at the time that I’d been in since I was in high school. Although I hated to admit this, it was sort of just like my grandmother said. She said that women often settle with who wants to settle with them, and not the other way around. She told my mother and my aunts to love who loves you. When my mother first told me this story I was outraged because it contradicted everything I’d been taught and force fed my whole life. It defied fairy tales where love is mutual and magical, and was really quite depressing. I overreacted and I see now that what she said was partly true.

I loved my ex dearly and it was all by happenstance. I loved him because he loved me (immensely) first and what I’d really wanted at the time was just to love and be loved. So I settled with him because he was good enough and he wanted so badly to settle with me. I was sure that this relationship was my happily ever after. Then he started to treat me differently, with less love and affection, and the heart that I’d built up around him began to break. Today he swears that he’s never stopped loving me and never will. That it was all due to his youth and immaturity, his fear of losing me. But what’s done is done and lessons are learned.

I never needed to be saved. A man isn’t the ultimate prize.

It wasn’t all bad, though. There are tons of fond memories intertwined, a lot of honeymoon phases but not nearly enough for me to remain where I probably shouldn’t have been in the first place. When I left my primary regret was that I couldn’t make it work no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t control the outcome and I couldn’t live happily ever after with him. I’ve since come to terms with that.

We’re still friends. He stops by and mows my lawn from time to time and we hang out on occasion. I’ve thanked him for the good and the bad times. On those rainy days it feels good knowing he loves me. My girlfriend once told me that he is my parachute. Whatever that means.

I know I talk a lot of jazz about dating and becoming a Golden Girl and all but, honestly, I’m enjoying being single. I’m pretty self-sufficient and I enjoy my freedom immensely. Relationships take a lot of work to maintain and right now I’d kind of like to take it easy. Just give me the romance, for now.

Have you ever noticed that every fairy tale ends after marriage, anyway? Ha! We never actually see them living happily ever after.

I still check out the dresses in the window whenever I pass that bridal shop, which isn’t as often these days. It was a fantasy, a Cinderella tale to wear the gown and be the belle of the ball. Now it’s mostly nostalgia for who I was. The dresses are still gorgeous but marriage no longer looks so appealing. Not in the traditional sense, at least. However, a marriage where two adults respect one another, are self-sufficient and know how to compromise and reason fairly sounds like a dream to me! :D

I do want to get married. But I won’t marry simply for the sake of being married. I don’t care about appearances. I don’t want to pretend to be Cinderella. My goal is to live happily ever after, married or not. I'll be fine either way.

I like to think I make him smile

I like to think that whenever he thinks of me or hears my name a smile spreads across his face and his eyes light up. His eyes are gorgeous, his mouth is too. I've been sort of flirting with this guy who's a bit younger than me (aren't they all :/) and I don't think he knows it, which is kind of my intent. I don't want him to quite know it. I just want him to smile when he thinks of me and laugh when I joke and play with him, and play back. So far, so good. He's generally a quiet, sort of shy cat but when I show up he blossoms :). And when my competition talks he just nods politely, no smile, very few words, if any. And that makes me smile. I don't know where I hope this goes but for now making him smile is keeping me just peachy.

But Bonita’s got a big ole butt…so he’s leaving you (see ya!)

You mean to tell me I have to have game now, too? More and more I’m realizing that physical attraction isn’t enough to get a guys phone number these days. Not that I’ve tried that and failed. I’ve gotten plenty of phone numbers… and then I’ve failed, lol, but that’s sort of another post. Right now, I’m specifically talking about there being so many “attractive” (to each his own) women out there with a multitude of qualities to offer a guy that, naturally, with women outnumbering men, guys are being pickier now more than ever. And lazy, but that’s a separate beef, too.

So here I am trying to be the best butterfly I can be and I’m still coming up short because “Bonita’s” got an extra quality that I probably didn’t mention in my initial interview. Maybe she gives head on the first date and has no qualms about admitting it. That’s what I’d like to think at least. But in my girlfriend’s case, her man of over a year and a half decided to leave her because the next girl had her own house. I’m not kidding. They were living together, engaged and behaving like a normal family with two kids, neither of which were his. Then one weekend they drove to Las Vegas for his brothers wedding and he met another portly single mom who wasn’t any prettier than my portly friend (she was tackier though. I saw pictures) and began having a long distance phone/internet affair all because she bought a house in the desert and has connections in the real estate market. I’m not kidding, he actually told my friend this when they were breaking up. He wants to be a realtor now.

And that’s all it took. It didn’t used to be like this, did it? Men are the new women and women are the new men?

Women outnumber men in the U.S. — among adults 25 and older, 103 million are women, 96 million are men. Now, of that 96 million, how many are in jail? How many are crazy? How many have anything going for themselves? Right :(

Looks like I'll be keeping my toe in the "Jungle Fever pool," Rashad, lol.

White Boy Fever

There must be an acute case of Jungle Fever going around because over the last few weeks I have been hit on by an abundance of white boys, which never happens. Some cute, some not, and a couple I could see myself giving a real chance if only they weren’t so shy and knew how to seal a deal with a sista. Because I’m sort of shy too, so unless one of us has balls enough (literally) to say something this won’t go beyond coy smiles and batting eyelashes. I thought the Guy from the OC had fallen off entirely but it turns out he just had midterms (did I mention he goes to Cal State Fullerton?). He sent me a long email yesterday explaining why he's been MIA for a few days. I don’t think we have a thing in common but that doesn’t seem to bother him. Eh, we’ll see where this goes.

As I sit here gobbling up a bag of Raisenettes

I'm sort of regretting my decision to get satellite TV. Less than a month in and I've already had a couple of phone fights with DirecTV customer service reps, which I'm thinking is a sign of things to come over the next 23 months of my contract. Bad things to come. :( Then, I can't turn off the tube. I'm "dating" Ahmed Hassan from Yard Crashers (in my daydreams), and cheating on him with Dhani Jones (I would so eat his taco meat). And speaking of eat, Man vs Food is bringing out the fat chick in me, inspiring me to want to cook more. This could be a good and a bad thing.

Why did I follow the crowd and decide to pay for television??

Anyway, I'd planned to do some reading tonight, exercise for an hour and wash my hair. All I've done is wash my hair. Maybe I'll get around to the rest of my to-do list tomorrow :/

A Dozen Things I Can’t Live Without (aside from food and water)

1. Naps – I take the best power naps in my car at lunch time. It’s like a quiet, warm little cocoon and probably just what it felt like being in the womb before birth. I bought a pink airplane-sized pillow for the occasion, which helps me fall asleep quickly and effortlessly. My work power naps last no more than 40 minutes, sometimes a little less, and they give me a boost of energy to finish out my day at full steam. They’re grrrrrreat! © Tony the Tiger

2. Boy shorts – wearing them feels like sitting on a cloud, they’re akin to going commando, only better. Smooth seams so no panty line, and no elastic bands to cut into your legs like bikini’s or granny panties. And nothing sticking up your nasty ass booty collecting all manner of bacteria and grossness like an uncomfortable thong. Yuck. Plus, the right pair will give you lift in the derriere J

3. A pen and paper – I write to-do lists religiously and derive great joy from ticking off completed items. It’s cathartic, I feel super productive, like my life is moving forward and my goals are being attained. I’m getting stuff done and in the process I’m gaining peace of mind. My thoughts are constantly shifting so writing them down helps me to keep up with them. Don’t want to lose any good ideas ;)

4. Lipgloss – better than lipstick, which often leaves your lips feeling dry and chapped, lipgloss adds shine, it magnifies and enhances the mouth while moisturizing your situation © Puffy , so whenever you talk your lips move fluidly without sticking (unless youre using MAC lipglass. That shits like Elmers) and feel protected from the elements, lightly wrapped in buttery smoothness

5. Music – It moves you. Feeling sluggish and got work to do? Turn up the tunes and get your chores done while dancing around. Music inspires you, it wakes you up to get off your duff and be productive. It gets the mental juices flowing as well as amps up the body for some light cardio. Wiggle and dip while youre washing the dishes.

6. My son – he spent part of his spring break (Thursday through Sunday) at his friends’ house and I missed him terribly. I had no one to cook for so I ate a pb&j or something microwavable. I had no one to watch my Netflix with, and at night I closed my bedroom door tight and pushed my dress form in front of it just in case someone broke in while I was alone.

7. My mom – they cut the cord many, many moons ago but I’m still very much connected to her. I talk to mi madre at least once a day, but usually more. She is my parachute, my emergency get out of jail free card, my confidant and sounding board, my advisor, my security blanket, and my biggest cheerleader. How on earth could I make it without all that?? I couldn’t, I’d be lost.

8. My privacy – There are days when I’d like to do nothing more than be human. That means my guard is down, my legs might be unshaven, my hair is topsy turvy, and you might find me on the couch scratching myself while eating lying down. Basically, all the stuff us human beings do when nobody’s watching and judging us.

9. My clan – As much as they annoy me at times, it’s good to know that they are mine and I am theirs. We’re stuck like glue; we’re obligated to get on each others nerves, to love each other, and to socialize on birthdays and holidays. We are never an island. We’re a village.

10. Indoor plumbing – need I say more?

11. My toothbrush – I gotta have it. I’d lose my mind walking around with yuck mouth. No, really. ...Perhaps I’ve already lost a bit of it considering how passionate I am about my toothbrush, L

12. A comfy pair of pajamas – I’m obsessed with them.

And that’s 12! It took me forever to compile this list, lol …but I’m glad I did.

They say they built the tracks over the alps between Vienna and Venice before there was a train that could make the trip. They built them anyway because they knew someday a train would come.

Any arbitrary turning along the way and I would be elsewhere, I would be different.

What are four walls anyway? They are what they contain. The house protects the dreamer. Unthinkably good things can happen. Even late in the game. It's such a surprise (c) Francesca, Under the Tuscan Sun

Tyra's Boo / Updates

Not bad, Tyra.

John Utendahl is a Wall Street banker who founded the United States' largest African-American owned investment group. Utendahl, age 50, is considered to be one of the most successful African Americans on Wall Street. According to the internet, they've been dating since '07.

Brief updates on previous posts. I called “the guy who’s wooing me” and told him that we needed a break and some time to reevaluate our friendship and he disagreed with me, saying that what happened wasn’t all that serious and that I was overreacting. We argued. Then he employed that talk-over-me-so-I-can’t-be-heard technique and I hung up on him. He tried to tell me that he wasn’t calling me a liar when he said that he found it hard to believe that I hadn’t checked my text messages since 3pm. I’m not sure what kind of English he speaks but that statement right there, here in America, means you think I’m lying. He basically tried his best to convince me that I was tripping and he was an innocent victim. So he’s fallen back. We’ve spoken since then and things seem cool but I haven’t seen him since the incident. I also called the “other” guy of another race and realized that we have absolutely nothing in common, plus he lives too damn far away (in the deep OC). He’s a tax attorney who dreams of starting a heavy metal band and is drastically, stereotypically white. I couldn’t relate so there was no connection. The single dad “other” hasn’t been able to find a sitter for his two year old so that ended before it could begin.

Yesterday I got a bit of my mojo back and now I’m feeling less like a Dorothy and more like a Demi. As I was walking back to my car to put coins in the meter, a well-dressed man with a full set of teeth and no b.o. (I said all that only to add credit to his sanity, lol) stopped and paid me a compliment. He said “you are one beautiful woman,” smiled, and then went on his way. Before that a male co-worker told me that I have a nice body, before quickly changing the subject, lol. There’s nothing like a little male validation to kick that mojo into gear and remind you that you’re still fine © Erykah B.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

Give him two lips like roses and clover

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over.

Dear Lord,

I am patiently waiting for you to send me

Who is for me. I am becoming more and more disheartened and worried

And, who am I kidding? Frightened! L

That I may never know him

That I may not have a match anywhere in this big old world

http://prayerstoshare.net/request-60546/dear-lord-i-pray-for.html (this is how we pray today? (c) MC Hammer)

Why can’t I ever attract what I like? Why am I only attractive to those I’m not attracted to? Why is it so hard to find a match?

I’ve been watching the Golden Girls a lot lately on the Hallmark channel, laughing and smiling and then trying to imagine who’s going to live with me and my mother when I’m Dorothy’s age, unmarried and still trying to date. The “guy who’s wooing me” will be my Stanley Zbornack, if I’m lucky.

In this months Glamour magazine there’s a 45 year old woman pregnant by her 28 year old, handsome fiancé. There’s a picture of them both smiling like two Cheshire cats, hand in hand, seemingly skipping down a red carpet in couture. Demi Moore is on the cover looking fabulous, as always, wearing hardly any makeup and that hair that I’ve always been willing to die for (not really but you know, it’s gorgeous). My initial thought was “why is Glamour trying to sell us wolf tickets!?!? 45 and 28?? PREGNANT!? Get the fuck out of here, Glamour!” and my next thought was, “I wish I was Demi Moore.” Have you seen Ashton Kutcher?? Hummina, hummina, that man is fine. And they've been married for 6 years. I read the magazine back to front and then sat it on my ottoman, a glossy symbol of hope to look at every day when I get home, lol. Then there’s Lisa Bonet and Halle Berry, both shacking up with two drop dead gorgeous men. I’m trying to decide what separates me from them, aside from the obvious - white or mixed with white, rich, famous…beautiful? To each his own, I guess. I’m not hideous, at least... I don’t think, lol. However, I have been known to be wrong once or twice. Anyway, how can I be down? What do I have to do to get like them? Believe it or not, I’ve been getting tips from the queens on RuPaul’s Drag Race. Who KNEW you could fashion a dress out of a half bra and a couple of yards of material?? And have you seen their make up and hair!? Wow, times 12. Those bitches are fierce and they’re not even real bitches.

Maybe it’s LA that’s killing my love life, as silly as that sounds. There are way too many beautiful women out here to choose from. Plus, this city is much too large to just bump into your soul mate all willy nilly. I never run into anyone I know and I know hundreds of people. I’m beginning to lose my cool. I’d like to think that with each awful date I go on there’s one less frog for me to kiss and I’m getting closer to my prince. But I’m so sick of frogs (blech). And time has never really been on a woman’s side. Particularly not a black woman’s.

It’s that time of month when I seriously need a cheesecake and a chick flick. I think I’ll watch Tequila Sunrise tonight for the billionth time.

And now, the Queen of Soul with "Say a little prayer":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=STKkWj2WpWM

Good eats

I’m trying to cultivate a love for cooking. I figure since I love eating, I should also be 'bout it' in the kitchen to ensure that I always eat well.Usually though, I’m just slapping something together real quick and no culinary creativity is going on whatsoever. That’s an abomination, an awful contradiction. I think I'll watch Food TV and Emeril and stuff to get some tips and inspiration.

Here’s what I slapped together for dinner tonight: shrimp, scallops, noodles, sauce from a jar (alfredo with sun dried tomatoes), 25 minutes.

Before

After

He’s got to go

It’s extremely rare that I’m happy and delightful on a Monday, but yesterday I just so happened to be. At work I was highly productive, time flew by, and, despite being super tired from the holiday weekend, nobody was on my nerves. That is, until I got home. Now, when I reached my driveway I was still high stepping and smiling, still in “get’er done” mode. I started straightening up the place and making mental notes to do a slew of things I’d been putting off (watch that Netflix movie I’ve had for over a week, update the tunes on my ipod, paint my baseboards, paint my nails, relax, etc). But first I needed to get dinner started because I’m absolutely no good when I’m hungry and Cornish hens take a while to cook. So I washed and prepared two of those bad boys, seasoned them to perfection, peeled a fat sweet potato, cut it up and tossed it into a pot, cut up some cabbage and got it ready to cook, and then my house phone rang.

“Hello?” I said.

“Well! I see you have your own thang going on, huh?!”

It was “the guy who’s wooing me” claiming that he’d sent me three unanswered text messages and half-jokingly accusing me of purposely ignoring him.

“I find it hard to believe that you didn’t check your phone since 3 o’clock,” he said.

What.the.hell? At this point I’m quite perplexed, wondering why he felt I needed to lie to him. And I asked him just that. What happened to him wanting me to be happy? I could feel my happiness slipping away.

He said he wanted to come over and use the internet to take care of some business. Straight bullshit but I’m like “uh…whatever, okay.” So all my plans are put on pause. He comes in and camps out in my living room with his laptop and my TV on blast, effectively alienating me from my space. I mean, my house aint but so big, damn. At this point I’m so annoyed I could kick a newborn puppy in the knee caps.

My temperature is rising but I try to remain focused on my goals for that evening; I don’t want to be unhappy. So I retreat to my bedroom to read. I’m yearning for my space but I’m trying not to be mean because I don’t want to have to deal with hurt feelings. So I attempt to level with him and, in so many words, explain that he just can’t give me an hour’s notice that he wants to stop by and then expect me not to have anything to do.

I’m a planner. My work weeks are planned damn near down to the minute and one snafu in my schedule has the potential to derail my mood and get some folks placed on my shit list (I didn’t tell him that part). He gets quiet like a little kid who just got chastised and his feelings are obviously hurt. I’m getting one word, softly spoken answers to my conversation. He declines my Cornish hens, sweet potatoes and cabbage, saying that he’ll eat what he has at home. Later on he mentions that what I’d said was fucked up. Huh? How? Are you dumb or just plain stupid, Forrest? I don’t say any of this to him, though. Instead, I ask to talk to him about it so that I can try to make him see the dilemma he’s put me in. But he’s too busy on the internet doing “research” and says that he’ll talk to me before he leaves. That was at 7 o’clock. This lousy motherfucker didn’t leave until 10 o’clock and by then I just wanted him gone so I could go to bed. Fuck your feelings, get home safe, but don’t call me to let me know that you have because I’ll be asleep. I don’t want to see nor hear from him but if I do, he’s getting cussed (yes, cussed) out and hung up on. I have the feeling that he stayed over for so long just to spy on me and see if I got any phone calls or male company, which infuriates me even more. How DARE he try to cockblock!! He’s officially worn out his welcome.

On second thought, I think I'll get it over with and tell him by phone during my lunch break that we can't be cool like that anymore. This is totally my fault though. I shouldn't have ever believed that he only wanted me to be happy. How naive of me.

I swear, I don't think I could ever live with another man again. Not unless we live in a huge house with east and west wings.

The oddest thing happened

As soon as my crush with “the 6’4 brother” crashed and burned a miserable death, two guys of another persuasion began to openly admire me. I’m kind of shocked and not sure whether to move forward or take a seat somewhere. So far, I've been pretty apprehensive but I think I'm going to make a move soon.

Both are very handsome, both are over 6 feet tall, both seem to have their shit together, both are of another race, and both are hitting on me rather hard. I’ve never dated outside my race, and it’s not because I’m blindly committed to black guys and don’t find others attractive. It’s because none of the others have ever tried to date me before. Well, none that I was attracted to at least. So I’m a little lost here. This is unchartered territory for me, and I know that they say that a man is a man is a man but I just don’t buy that. Will these men be able to relate to me, understand me as a woman of another race and background?

So far, we’ve remained above the surface, sticking to the point of what brought us together while exchanging pleasantries and weather reports and what have you. One of them is a 39 year old widow with an adorable 2 year old daughter, the other is a divorced 33 year old with no kids. Meanwhile, "the guy who's trying to woo me" is still lurking about. I asked him what he wanted from me the other day – to rekindle our relationship? occasional sex? What? – and he said “for you to be happy.”

I had no come back. That’s what I want, too.

So... I’m curious to see exactly what these “other” two guys want from me. I figure I have nothing to lose so why not, right? If it proves to be something to write home about, I'll let you know.

I hate the term “cougar”

It’s far from a term of endearment, it's disrespectful and demeaning to women, and anyone who dares to even utter that term in my presence will, at the very least, get the look of death, if not a severe cussing out (yes, cussing). What’s the awful term for older men who hit on and date/marry younger women?? Can’t put your finger on it? That’s because there isn’t one!! And no, sugar daddy doesn’t count. It’s not nearly as used as cougar and there really isn’t a negative connotation to it. Shit, Hugh Hefner is a sugar daddy and he is widely admired. He lives in a house full of gorgeous, sexually liberated, young, white women and many men aspire to be him – rich and (presumably) oversexed by said white women. On the show Two and a Half Men, Charlie Harper is certainly a sugar daddy but he’s portrayed as living the good life on the beach in Malibu, unhindered by marriage, a happy bachelor with a matronly housekeeper and a job that allows him to make a lot of money loafing around at home (a jingle writer). The term cougar, on the other hand, conjures up an image of an old, wrinkly, horny, sagging, chain smoking, Magda trying to recapture her youth and independence by sleeping with younger men.

Oh, and it’s not just men wearing this term out, younger women perpetuate this lousy stereotype too. As if they won’t someday get older themselves. They’d better hope like hell that they look as good as Demi Moore, Halle Berry, Mariah Carey, Kerry Washington, Thandie Newton and other women over 25. Usually, the ones talking shit look 30 at 20 anyway, so I guess karma really is a good bitch. Keep drinking and smoking and partying it up, girls! :) Meanwhile, your lame boyfriends will continue to hit on me and my sistren. Ugh.

Anyway, this all came about because I just backed out of attending a friends’ 27th birthday bash after reading the reviews of the venue she's having it at on yelp. Every last one of them talked about the overabundance of “desperate” “loser” “divorcee” cougars who “failed” at life. So, considering that I’m over 30, and my friend and the majority of her friends aren’t, I decided to save myself from an unnecessarily miserable evening where I’ll undoubtedly want to fight every guy and goofy bitch in the joint who thinks the term "cougar" is cute...or worse, thinks I'm one :( . I’d be walking right into a makeshift set-up of Hell, no thank you. And now that I think of it, I had a similarly miserable time at her birthday party last year at the "oontz oontz" club where every chick wanted to be Kim Kardashian and every guy wanted *her to be. Not only did the music suck (they played "Push It" by Salt n' Peppa at least 4 times), but the whole scene was super pathetic - a rainbow of short spandex dresses and 20-40 year old men with beer guts and sports coats. She picks awful spots to hang out in. I do hope she has a happy birthday, though.This year it won’t be at my expense, fortunately. I'll make it up to her somehow.

I'm teary eyed! :)

http://www.firstgiving.com/paddlewithpurpose

So inspirational. I'm tremendously moved (that's what I wrote on her donations page after I donated $20 to the cause) She has renewed my faith in human kindness. Read the story, it's sort of great :D