Ah-CHOO

It has finally happened...I'm sick. I was fine all day yesterday until I came in from working my part time job. As I was typing my last post, I started to feel really bad but I tried to ignore it away. NOT HAPPENING!!!

My eyes are watering, my nose is runny, my throat is scratchy, I'm sneezing every five minutes and now I just started coughing. BUM-MER!

I'm kinda thinking that it's just my allergies, in which case it should pass over rather quickly. BUT...before I left for NY my best friend was in bed sick for five days. When I got to NY, my oldest nephew was severely congested and coughing all over the place. After I left NY my Mom started feeling bad so she had her doctor call in a prescription for antibiotics (she has severe respiratory problems so she has to nip illness in the bud). NOW...worse of all, my one month old nephew was admitted into the hospital tonight because he had started coughing and sneezing with congestion right before my Mom left to come here and it hasn't gotten any better. Can you imagine? His little lungs are probably no bigger than lima beans!!! I'm not going to worry though...he's in good hands now and getting all the meds he needs. I'm just glad my sister followed her instincts and took him to the ER.

I say all that to say that I have no idea how I got this thing or who's the culprit or just how bad it's gonna get. I just know that I feel lousy. Lousy enough to have taken the "nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so I can rest" medicine (I'm so not a medicine person). I cannot afford to get sick any way you look at it...so y'all cross your fingers/say a prayer/hope for the best for me and a speedy recovery.

Just wanted to jump on here and post a little sumthin' sumthin' before I got all loopy...and that should be happening right about.............................NOW!

Night-Night!

I Don't Care...I Looove This Song!

I'm posting these lyrics for those of you who may not know of Maroon 5 (if you don't know, I recommend finding out), and for those of you who may know the band...but have just never paid attention to this particular song:

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in
But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew
That someday it would lead me back to you
That someday it would lead me back to you

That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave

Fingers trace your every outline
Paint a picture with my hands
Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm
Change the weather still together when it ends

That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave

But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you
Singing someday it'll bring me back to you
Find a way to bring myself back home to you

And you may not know
That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning

~ Maroon 5

It's not like this is a new song, new album or new group...all of the above (or beside) have been out for a minute. So I'm not sure why this song still affects me the way that it does.

It could be because I cannot think of anything more seductive, soothing or sensual than a rainy Sunday morning. Or...it could be that I long to have someone view me as their light in the midst of darkness. Or...it could be that the "break it down" at the very end of the song (I don't know the exact term when the lyrics stop and the band gets to do their thing) makes me think that Maroon 5 has sat up in somebody's Baptist church. Or...it could be that I just think they are super talented. Regardless of what the reason(s) is/are...

I. Love. This. Song.

I did quite a bit of driving today...to the airport to pick up my Mom...into the heart of DC for lunch...back to the house...then to work and back. No lie...I must have listened to this song 15 times! The last note couldn't even be played before I was pressing repeat.

And not only did I listen to it over and over and over again...but it was L-O-U-D...very loud. And I sang along...H-A-R-D...like I was Maroon #6! And I played air drums...yup, I sure did...and I'm not 'shamed to admit it :o) At red lights, I pumped my brakes to the beat. I was in my own world...

There was a second that I paused to consider what my fellow motorist/passengers must be thinking. I imagine that I had to be a sight to see. A young, Black, woman rockin' out and playing air drums smack dab in the middle of CHOCOLATE CITY!!! It even tickles me when I think about it. But this second was only a fleeting one because, truly, I didn't care what they thought. I felt good and was having fun...and that's all that matters! But if I made someone smile or someone realize that they need to loosen up and enjoy life a bit more...well, then THAT matters.

I discovered, many years ago, that "music makes me high" just like The Lost Boyz :o) I have a great deal of respect, appreciation and admiration for music, as well as musicians. And it doesn't matter the genre...I just love good music...music that moves me...that stirs my soul and awakens each and every one of my five senses.

This song does that for me...so I wanted to share it with you and encourage you to dance to the beat of your own drum...or someone else's if you like (I personally recommend Maroon 5...among others). It doesn't really matter...just DANCE!

Longing for a rainy Sunday morning....

This Is The Day

"...that the Lord hath made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!" (Psalms 118:24)

Please feel free to substitute "Lord" for whatever higher power in which you believe, as I respect all religions and other's choice of faith. Me? I submit to Jesus Christ. He is my Lord and Savior.

I do not intend to post a sermon tonight...nor am I going to preach to you. I began my post as such because today, especially, I remembered that no matter what I might be going through it could always be worse. And it is...for so many people. I went to bed last night with today not being promised to me. I am thankful, and blessed, to have been witness to this day!

I worked my part time job today and while on break a co-worker shared some very unfortunate news. Her otherwise healthy and happy niece of 30 very young years had died (I'm 30 myself, so this hit home for me somthing serious). No suffering with a long, drawn out illness. No years of known depression that led to an untimely, yet not surprising, suicide. No abusive boyfriend/husband that "finally" made good on a promise of taking her life. None of these circumstances pertains to my co-worker's niece. Her symptom...a headache!

Because of personal experience with a friend of mine, in my mind I'm thinking "brain aneurysm." But even though I was able to come up with my own diagnosis (and it is just MY opinion...the cause of death has not been determined), this did not remove any of the overwhelming sadness I felt for this young woman and her family. How tragic that in the time it takes for you to blink your eyes...your life could be over!

My best friend has age issues. She's not comfortable talking about her age. I mention this because we both turned 30 not too long ago and I tried to convince her that this life event was a blessing. I told her that we should be thankful that we have lived to see another year. I told her that I carry no shame with turning 30 because if I wasn't turning 30 that would mean that I was dead. I meant it when I said that to her, but it wasn't until today that I realized just HOW MUCH I meant it.

I was challenged even further to consider life when my sister (the one in Virginia, not NY...circa the post prior to this) called to tell me her doctor found a growth at the base of her brain near the pituitary gland (I'm not implying that this is deadly, but it just causes you to ponder). They found this growth in some X-rays that were taken after a very minor car accident a couple weeks ago - the two being totally unrelated. She has to have an MRI done on Monday that will provide us with more information. I was told by my friend that if it is a pituitary tumor - they are usually benign, which is good. God forbid it is something else, I pray that this fender bender was a blessing in disguise and that this is an early detection of a "something else" that is treatable.

It's funny...just this morning I was chatting with my best friend and I told her that I didn't want to toot my own horn, but that I was impressed with how well I am handling my life situations as I sometimes feel like they warrant a nervous breakdown. I actually said to her, and it just dawned on me now, that what helps prevent my having a nervous breakdown (no matter how deserved it might be) is that even though I think I have it bad (not saying that my "bad" is insignificant), someone else has it worse. I literally said that this morning and it gives me chills to know that God chose to cosign this life lesson for me today...mysterious ways I tell you!

I am thankful for my life...it is perfect in all of its imperfection.

Admitting that at times I do forget, I will remember to pray tonight. My prayer will be one of thanksgiving and for comfort...comfort for she who is bereaved...and she who is beloved.

Blessings!

Everyone Has a Breaking Point

I am back from NY y'all. Actually, I've been back since late Monday night. I wasn't supposed to be coming back to Maryland until today (well, yesterday...since I'm posting this well past midnight), but plans changed...DRASTICALLY, as well as DRAMATICALLY. While in NY on my visit, it was made crystal clear to me that be it friend, foe or family...everyone has a breaking point. Because my breaking point came without a conscious warning, I needed a couple of days to recover before I even thought about posting...."anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

For the sake of brevity, I am the youngest of four girls (this has briefly been touched on previously and will be mentioned again, I'm sure, with a more detailed explanation). Although I am the baby of the family, at 30 years old I am almost certain that I am no longer a "baby." My sister, whom I was visiting, has some difficulty remembering this. What's worse is that up until this weekend I, in her prescence, would actually revert to being a child - enabling her tyranny! I had become so accustomed to her "get that, do this, come here, go there, give me, take that, you should, you better, why didn't you" that I forgot that I was not a bear, I was not wearing a party hat and I damn sure wasn't riding a unicycle!

Keep in mind folks, that this is not my oldest sister...this isn't even my second-to-oldest sister...this is the sister that is only 5 years older than me!!!

But it doesn't end there...on top of her bossiness, she suffers from anxiety, extreme moodiness, post-partum depression and, in my opinion, has a slight case of OCD. So she is bossing me around with a nasty attitude and scowled face as she follows behind me writing my initials on the cap of my bottled water! Now, because of all of her many issues, I have always gone to her house walking on egg shells...wondering if I'm saying the right thing, sitting the right way, doing things correctly, saying something stupid...you get the idea. And to make sure that I don't upset her, every request that she made of me would be done immediately. So why she is so combative, nasty, crass and rude to me is BEYOND me!

From what I can recall, I let about four incidents slide off my back this weekend...but when she got to her fifth and most ridiculous...it was time to go. And what an exit it was!

My mother, bless her heart, hates to see her daughters at odds. But she also understands the aforementioned situation, and couldn't blame me for wanting to leave. However, she was torn...she loves both of her daughters, hadn't seen either of us in some time and didn't want to have to give up one for the other. Since I seemed to be the most distraught (I had a break down for real y'all), she wanted to leave with me but I wouldn't let her. One, because she was there to spend time with her new grandson and I didn't want to cut that time short. Two, because my sister had already purchased a plane ticket for her to fly home this coming weekend and no one has money to just throw down the drain. And Three, I just needed to be alone. So picture me in tears trying to grab my bags and explain my feelings/vent to my mother. My mom is crying trying to keep me from leaving in the state that I was in. And my sister is coming in and out of the room, on the defensive, saying her "peace" (and I use that word VERY lightly) and not letting anyone get a word in edgewise. It was ugly...BEYOND ugly...especially since my 5 year old nephew had be witness to this madness.

Without the play-by-play, I know this might seem very trival. However, this wasn't the first time that my sister has worn me out with orders, treated & talked to me like I was her 5 year old, been rude & nasty and then became irrationally defensive when called out. This is a sister who, after I had been living across country for years and had traveled 3000 miles for a visit, offended me and when I threatened to leave stated, "Leave...no one asked you to come here anyway." Are you serious? I don't know how, but THAT time my mother was able to convince me to stay. This time, however, was a COMPLETELY different story.

My mother likes to remind me that "she doesn't mean to hurt your feelings." I don't buy that. I used to, until I witnessed her being sweet as pie to extended family, her friends and co-workers. I realize, especially with the post-partum, that in order to do this she may have to exert extra energy...but if there is anyone who deserves that extra energy...it's the immediate family who was there for her through thick and thin...day and night...for ups and downs. I think priorities are a bit out of whack when you wish that your family would treat you the same way they do strangers.

So there I was in lounge clothes, hungry and pissed off at 6:30 PM (in the mddle of "Cash Cab"...more on that later, I promise) hopping in my car to head back to the "urea."

Surprisingly, though, I was not hurt over the arguement with my sister. I was not hurt that I told her that she would never see me again. I was hurt that I had to leave my mother and nephews like I did. But, I know that I am learning how to "take care of me" because no matter how hurt I was...I wasn't going to stay there and take that kind of abuse...not for my nephews...not even for my mother. Not this time....Not ever again! Visiting family is supposed to be a peaceful experience...a soft place to land. And I'm even tolerant of a few spats here and there. But the second it becomes a war zone, I'm OUTRO!

The sad part about this thing, too, is that I'm going through my own valley right now. Although it is much needed, I'm going through a divorce AND I made sacrafices for that trip to NY that my family will never understand since they have no idea that I'm not working full time and that I'm working retail part time to make ends - not even "meet" - but come a bit closer. I haven't shared any of what I'm feeling or going through with them - one, because I don't really want to hear their criticism/opinions and two, because I don't want to burden them...this is my cross to bear. But no matter how thoughtful and reactive I am to others...I still get dumped on.

I haven't heard from my sister...and that's fine, because I'm not ready to talk to her yet. I don't know when I will be ready to talk to her, and I'm not rushing myself. I love my sister, but she has hurt me...repeatedly. I love spending time with family, but visiting her home is extremely stressful. I am on my Journey Back To Joy...and I refuse to take any detours...be it friend, foe or family...everyone has a breaking point!

I Am In Love

I arrived in New York safe and sound...and VERY cold I might add. It's amazing how much the temperature drops just traveling from Washington, DC to New York.

So, I thought I was going to be able to get here, get settled in and finish my last post. NOT!

I am absolutely, completely, utterly and unequivocally IN LOVE with my new nephew! The second I laid eyes on him I was taken. Hence, I have not yet finished that post...but I will...eventually.

Since he is sleep, my older nephews are at school, my brother-in-law is at work and my mother & sister are watching The View - I thought I would jump on the computer to say hey to all my peeps (I really do miss you all when I'm gone).

However, since logging on to the computer, I have realized that my sister has a VERY slow connection (or maybe I just have a super fast one and this is normal). Either way, I don't really have the patience for slow computers any more...so I'm thinking I probably won't post again until I get back to the DC area. Can't wait...cause I have soooooo much to talk about (whether or not you will be interested is another story - but I'm gonna tell you anyway).

Aight y'all...I'm gonna go have some breakfast and then smother my nephew some more. Don't you just LOOOOOOOOOOVE the smell of babies? Almost makes me want one.....well, not really...at least not without being in a loving and stable relationship with the man of my dreams...but I'm not banking on that happening any time soon.

Until DC....

I'll Be Searching for that CASH CAB!!!

Well folks...I'm off to NY (Westchester County)...for about the gazillionth time in the past 6 months. My sister just gave birth to a baby boy (Colin Tyler) on February 21 and my mother and I are going to meet him. I thought I would jump on and post a quick one while I wait for my mom to get here (especially since I was victim of the ugly 403 Forbidden fiasco yesterday that kept me from posting and/or publishing).

Anyway...since I have been back on the East Coast, my mom and I now share the ride back home to the Tri-State. Not too long before I moved back east, she moved from Jersey to Virginia...Norfolk, VA. So when we travel north, she drives the 3.75 hours to get to me and then I drive the 4 hours to NY. I'm hoping that she'll be here any minute now cause I'm starting to get a wee bit tired *yawn*. The good thing is that she got off work early today so she won't be driving in the dark. My mom + driving + darkness + PG County, MD= frantic call accusing me of having her "lost in this wilderness!" No lie y'all...she called Suitland, MD the "wilderness." It still makes me chuckle :o)

So why the title for this blog then? Why not, "I'm Off to Meet My New Nephew?" Because...I have become addicted to yet another reality/game show. Have any of you see the show called "Cash Cab?" Basically there is this one cab, the Cash Cab, that travels the streets of NYC in search of passengers. When you get picked up and get in the cab, it becomes a disco - stobe lights and all. The host (ie. cab driver) then informs the passengers that they are on a game show. Here are the rules of the game. The host will ask you questions ranging from $25-$100....

Sorry guys...Mom did better than I thought...she just rang the doorbell...gotta get on the road. I'm going to try to complete this post tonight.

"And The Card Attached Would Say..."

"...Thank you for being a friend!"

I have truly been blessed with the gift of friendship. I will admit that often times I take this for granted and forget that friendship is a two way street...forget that I have so many really great friends because at some point I showed myself to be "friendly." And...in order to maintain these friendships, I have to continue to do just that.

About a month ago, I made a list of about fifteen of my friends/associates with whom I have lost touch. My goal was that by the end of the week I would have touched base with each one of them via phone and/or e-mail. I only e-mailed three of them.

Part of me feels like I deserve a pass for falling out of touch considering the emotional trauma I have been experiencing. As understandable and true as this may be, it's not the case for at least seven of my dearest friends...two of which don't even know of my current circumstances. These are the the true blue, ace boon coon, "my man 50 grand" type friends..."ride or die" type friends. Unfortunately, as of late, I have not been treating them as such.

Friends and friendship mean a lot to me and there is no excuse for not checkin' in on folks once in a while if they truly mean something to you. I am ashamed of the type of friend that I have been to certain people in my life and I need to do better. I figure if I put this out into the universe, that someone will be holding me accountable for keeping my word.

Sometimes it's not until you hit a valley in your life that you realize how important it is to have good friends. If you haven't stayed in touch though, you feel like you don't have the right to call them now that you are in the midst of a crisis. Luckily enough, I don't have to worry about this too much because no matter how far I fall off the map, my friends are always there for me. Sure, they give me grief...tell me how triflin' I am...but by the end of the conversation/e-mail they have assumed the position of confidant, counselor, comforter and comic relief. And for that, I am grateful.

However, I never want to assume that this will always be the case. Everyone has there breaking point...I know this because I reached mine with a certain friend many years ago and was forced to end the friendship.

So I am pledging (and if you are in the same boat as me with anyone that you call "friend" feel free to join me) that by the end of this month I will have made contact with everyone on my original list...especially the EXTRA special friends.

Friendship is not a given in life. It truly is a gift, and I want be sure that I remain a worthy recipient.

Dear God, Please Help Me Lose This Weight

Hello blog world...I feel like I have been away so long. I've posted only three times (prior to this one) and I'm already hooked. I wasn't able to post last night because I was dog tired from this crazy part time job. This job is not only psychologically painful, but it's now become physically painful (more to come on that in just a sec). So my fatigue, coupled with excruciating pain, caused me to skip out on posting. BUT...I must admit that I did try to post...but for some reason I was having trouble with the site taking FOREVER to load. All the other sites I went to worked just fine, but not this one. Funny how God speaks to you...as much as I WANTED to journal my thoughts, I NEEDED to rest (my body does not handle stress well AT ALL...I'm sure I'll tell you all about that some other time).

ANY WHO...back to the topic of this evenings post. My weight...it's out of control. Now I'll be the first to say that - my weight being out of control - is in relative terms because I'm sure I would be called skinny by many a women in the world today. Weeeeeelllll, maybe not skinny - but you get what I'm saying. I'm what most brothas call "thick" - so culturally, I'm straight. My feet, however, think otherwise.

Okay so working this retail job causes me to be on my feet...all day long. I've worked 8 hour shifts the past three days. Now, normally, that wouldn't be a big deal. But keep in mind that my "normal" is having an office, with a desk, which would require me to have a chair...that I could SIT in all day. I'm not used to this kind of labor...and I've recently discovered that my body isn't in shape for it either.

I already have ZERO arch and my feet turn slightly inward. So while the bottom of the majority of the world's feet is what is usually resting on the ground when they walk and/or stand...I'm also walking/standing on the inside of my foot. This is fine for your average, every day walking...but NOT for being on my feet for 8 hours. For the past two nights I have come home and ace bandaged ice packs to the part of my foot where the arch is SUPPOSED to be. This area has become swollen, red and quite sore to the slightest touch. Not cool at all!

I am convinced that my situation would not be as bad if I wasn't carrying around extra weight. I've gotten too heavy for my own feet...who would have ever thought that possible! It's my own fault for not heeding the warning of every pair of my jeans (except for one), as well as the rest of my cute clothes - they told me (at least ) a year ago that I was headed down the ugly road. But I was so caught up with marital drama and being 3000 miles away from my family & friends - that I really didn't care to listen. Sorry guys.

BUT now I do care and I am listening!! Both for health reasons and superficial reasons. The health reasons being the one described above, in addition to heart disease running in my family. The superficial reason is that in exactly 2 1/2 months I will be officially back on the market!!! WOO-HOO!!! This is when I will be able to file for a "limited divorce" in the state of Maryland (which is the same as a legal seperation in most other states...I won't even go into how the state of Maryland makes you jump through hoops to dissolve your marriage). So, I want to look my best when I do finally meet the REAL Mr. Right for Me (I don't believe in a Mr. Right *period*...meaning the punctuation mark). More importantly, I want to feel good about me for me. Although I'm not totally dissatisfied with what stares back at me in the mirror (and I'm not lacking compliments and/or cat calls), I could be much happier.

I've lost weight quite successfully before, so I know that I'm capable of doing it. It may take a bit longer now that I've hit 30, but it will happen. I'm too young to be in this much pain over an 8 hour a day retail job. My body is trying to tell me something and I'm hearing it LOUD and CLEAR!

Y'all pray for me though...cause a sistah is in LOOOOOOOOOOVE with everything carbohydrate. But, I've come to realize that I'm much more in love with living another 70 some odd years...at minimum.

So good night cheese danish, toast & butter, donuts, french fries and cupcakes...I'll see you in my sweet dreams!

PS. Shout out and thanks to Laa Laa, TTD, Kween and Insanelysane for commenting on my blog...it means a lot to me ladies and I sure do appreciate it! Once I learn how to, y'all will the the first that I add to my blog roll :o)

Happy Birthday Daddy (I'll Always Be Lonnie's Little Girl)

Today is my Daddy's birthday...he would have been 68 years old.

It's been 8 years since my senior year in college when two of my dearest friends came knocking on my dorm room door to tell me that my phone was off the hook and that my mother was trying to get in touch with me. I knew it was off the hook...I wanted it that way.

At the time, I thought I had decided to turn my ringer off because I had a long day of classes and work. I was unusually tired that day and, although my phone didn't ring off the hook to the point of annoyance, I wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to be disturbed. I have since come to realize (and remember) that I felt bad news coming...news that I didn't want to hear or accept...news that my father - my Daddy - had died.

Although one is never really "prepared" for the death of a loved one, my dad's death was imminent. He was fighting an ugly battle with AIDS. My dad was a drug addict. More importantly, however, my dad was one of the most loving men that I have known. And...I loved him back.

Don't get me wrong, his personal demons haunted him something fierce and wreaked havoc on my family...especially my mother (more to come on her...she is the awesomest!!!). There was the typical hurt, stress, anger, frustration, abuse and abandonment that comes with the drug addict territory. For fear of sounding like a Lifetime movie, I will spare you all of the details.

Unfortunately, due to my dad's disease (addiction IS a disease), I didn't get to spend anywhere near the amount to time with him that I would have liked to. He left our home when I was in the fourth grade with VERY sporadic contact with me up until my sophomore year in high school. That's when his second (out of five) brother's died. This is also when I first learned of his illness.

It was at this point that we became reaquainted and rekindled our father/daughter relationship. This was truly a blessing as he was able to see me off to the prom, celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas with me and my family, as well as attend my high school graduation. He was also able to live long enough to see the first (and only one) of his five children enter college. I was praying that he would live to see me graduate, but God had a different plan for his life. As hard as it was, I made peace with that and am thankful for the time that I did have with him.

As strange has it may sound, struggling through this illness with my dad was one of the most beautiful times of my life. I loved, I learned, I nurtured, I nursed, I accepted, I listened, I talked, I confessed...but more than anything else...I forgave. I forgave my father for not being strong enough to resist drugs. I forgave him for the pain that he caused my family. I forgave him for leaving. I forgave him for not being the father that I needed and wanted him to be. Not that I was ever "mad" at him - having the mother that I have been blessed with made that impossible for me - but I was EXTREMELY hurt and disappointed.

Although he wasn't physically able to say it, my forgiveness meant a great deal to my dad. But it wasn't until he forgave himself that he was truly at peace. He died not too long after.

When I look back on all that I went through with my dad, as well as what I did not, I am still able to say that there is no other man on this Earth that I would rather have has a father. Drugs had taken over the majority of his body...but they NEVER touched his heart.

Yes, my father had a drug addiction, but that was not the whole of him. The drugs were bad...really bad...but my father? He was a good man. He was a loving man. I felt his love...throughout my entire life, I felt his love. He loved me to the best of his ability given his situation...and that is all I could ask for.

I celebrate my Dad's life today. I miss him every minute of every day.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Love,
Your Little Girl

Fridays Just Aren't The Same Anymore...

It just dawned on me this evening that I cannot remember the last time I genuinely shouted T.G.I.F. from the rooftops. If I thought long and hard about it, the last time that I was really and truly ecstatic about it being Friday was when I was working in Manhattan. And that, my friends, was many, many, many moons ago.

When I moved to LA, I knew no one except for my soon-to-be-ex-husband (too bad that doesn't make a nifty little acronym). He was/is a homebody and I had no friends...so Fridays and the impending weekend, didn't mean jack to me.

Once I eventually made friends that I wanted to hang out with on the weekends, I was transitioning into a job where I worked from home and made my own hours...so I could make any day Friday. While everyone with desk jobs, 9 to 5ers or those who actually had a building to report to every week day were counting down the minutes to 5:00 on Friday, I had been there and done that on Tuesday. This carried over to my move back East.

Now that I'm not working a real full time job, EVERY day is Friday...and as nice as that may sound to all of you out there in the working world...trust me,it SUCKS!!! Maybe it wouldn't...wait, I take that back, I KNOW it wouldn't suck if I was independently wealthy, came from money or if I married rich...but I'm not/I didn't. Hence, the suck factor.

What sucks even more now is that I started working a parttime retail job. I've never worked retail before - which might come as a surprise to most of you since you probably did this...oh...I don't know...maybe in...........high school??? And I now understand why (but that's a subject for a whole other blog). My point is that due to this parttime "sentence," Friday is now DREADFUL. Friday means that tomorrow I have to stand on my feet for 8 hours straight re-hanging up underwear that I'm unsure were tried on OVER the underwear that was worn into the store (or at least I hope was worn into the store). Oh the stories I could tell you..."N" to the "A-S-T-Y"!!!!

But a sistah has to do what a sistah has to do. So I suck it up and thank God for the little piece of job that I have which allows me to keep enough gas in the car to get me there, to pay a bill or two - but unfortunately not NEARLY enough to keep the soon-to-be-ex-husband (I must come up with an acronym) off my back.

I digress...

Note to self: The very first Friday that finds you counting down the minutes 'til 5:00, you must go out and party like it's 1999 (I don't care how old this phrase is and it makes no difference that this year has already come and gone...it is still an excellent indicator of just how hard one will dance and how much alcohol one will consume).

So to all of you authentic and well deserving T.G.I.Fers...take one back for me tonight...wish I could be there!

I Really Need This...

First things first...I'm a virgin to the blog world (clearly, since this is my first entry). I'm still not exactly sure that I know how this all works, but I've been told that this is a place where I can put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and vent...or shall I say "share" (evidenced by blog title, I'm on my journey back to a happier place...I think "share" sounds a bit more positive than "vent" - don't you?)

Speaking of you...who is "you" really? I mean...is there anyone actually reading this? I guess in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter if it's helping me become a better me, right? But if "you" do chose to stop by...I hope that I can make you laugh. Or cry. Or think. Or question.

Or feel...something.

Silly me, I'm sorry! Please allow me to introduce myself: I am an African American female living about 15 minutes outside of Washington, DC. As a child, my mother believed me to be an angel living on earth. I excelled academically, volunteered in my community on a very regular basis, was involved in a number of extracurricular activities, was pretty popular, was President of my senior class in high school, graduated from a prestigious university with honors and landed my first job with a very reputable media company in New York City one month after graduation.

Fast forward 8 years: I am now 30 years old (which I truly view as a blessing rather than a curse). Within the past eight years, I moved from DC (where I went to school) back to Jersey (home), from Jersey to Los Angeles (big mistake...or "life lesson"...must think positive) and from Los Angeles back to the DC area (where I've always belonged). During this time I married a man who I thought was my friend. After 2 1/2 years of marriage, I'm now divorcing a man that I thought was my friend. Do friends really make the best lovers? Not in this case...but I still remain hopeful.

In retrospect, I wonder if he and I ever really were friends. Friends don't do the kinds of things he did to me. Friends don't say the kinds of things he said to me. And, furthermore, I wouldn't dare reciprocate any of those things back to anyone that was truly my friend. And I did...so I wonder....

Now, here I am...as raw as they come. I'm out of work (well, not really), I have bills that continue to come in, I've moved out of my apartment (kind of) and am living with friends, my soon-to-be-ex-husband is the "owner" of my car (so I'm not sure how long I'll have that), I haven't been on an interview in over a month, I barely have a pot to p*ss in and we already know I don't have a window to throw it out of, I'm depressed, I'm broken, I'm angry, I feel cheated, I'm disappointed, I've been changed to a person unrecognizable by my closest of friends. Yet, considering all of that, I feel that there is a perfect plan for my life and that I am not experiencing any of this in vain.

But how did a person who seemed to have it all...all the opportunities, all of the drive, all of the luck, all of the brains...how did she get here?

Well folks, that's what we are going to figure out...together (once you stumble across my blog).

Don't get me wrong, I do not intend for this blog to be tear stained pages (or screens) of angry epithets about how much I hate "him"...nor do I intend to whine, bitch and moan about how miserable my life is. Operative word being "intend." I suppose that at times, that's just what this will be. But in the interim, I hope to entertain, enlighten and engage you...trusting that some day "you" will stop by to visit with me. But should you not, I will at least have a record of my metamorphosis.

The truth of the matter is that I want to be happy again. I want to feel alive again. I want the real me back...the me I was before all of "this" happened. But I realize that this isn't going to happen over night...that it is going to be a process filled with peaks and valleys.

Today, I just wanted to introduce myself and to welcome you. So, hello and welcome...welcome to my Journey Back to Joy...I hope you enjoy the ride!

Blessings!