Accusations!

(Source)

After reading a moving post recently on a blog I discovered last week, I commented, as I usually do after reading something I find thought-provoking.

The backlash of that comment has been quite eye opening, to say the least.

The comment that invoked the most criticism was - ".......But as usual the world turns a deaf ear to the suffering of others. We develop a severe case of ADD and would much rather focus our attention on who's attending Chelsea Clinton's wedding, what Snooki has to say about Obama or who'll be the next American Idol. Fuck that!"  - [original point - the daily suffering, rape and brutality being inflicted on Haitian women, including young girls, in refugee camps in and around Port-au-prince]

Because of my comment I was accused of using ableist language. With ableism being defined as discrimination of the disabled in favor of the able bodied, and since I appropriated the word deaf and the acronym ADD as a means of expressing negative things, I'm guilty.

Please!

Deaf is not only the inability to hear - it is also an unwillingness or refusal to listen. In contrast, ADD may not have been the most appropriate word choice, I agree.

I do find the chastisement quite ironic coming from readers and moderators of a feminist blog that includes links to blogs titled Angry Black Bitch and BitchPh.d - a word e.g. bitch that is viewed as both sexist and based on stereotypical assumptions about women. Are words used to describe women negatively less incendiary than those only loosely associated with certain disabilities?

And to assume being accused of using ableist language by someone with a disability automatically makes the accusation more credible than a person without a disability is a stretch. What you have done is provided me with your opinion on the subject and validated your presumption that the one accused of the offense is not a disabled person themselves.

Negating all the previous points I've made, the hypocrisy of the whole sorted mess is astounding. The actual post I was commenting on contains the same language I was heavily criticized for using.

In an open forum, the risk of triggering a negative reaction or opposing view from others is inevitable, especially in an extremely diverse environment. There was never any dialogue about Haitian women and young girls being exploited daily at the hands of rapists, thieves, and murderers - only a lesson in how to say what you're supposed to say without saying something you shouldn't have said that might be viewed as offensive.

Comments should stay on topic, not be used as ammunition to assert that you are right and I am wrong regarding my choice of words. Whittling away at every minute detail eventually nullifies the point the author and commenter were attempting to make in the first place.

The Sunday Meeting Place

(Source)

I am often chastised and frowned upon by members of my family and the extended community which I refer to as the immediate world around me simply because I don't attend church on a regular basis. Truth be known, I rarely ever attend church.

I am, however, a strong Believer and advocate for the teachings and works of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I can see the awesomeness of His power in my life in all that I do.

I study His Word and make a conscious effort to pattern my life after what I feel is the way a Christian should be.

I just became so weary of the mockery people were making of what's supposed to be a time for fellowship, learning, sharing, and rejoicing as one body in the "House of The Lord".

You witness people in this House whispering about the church member with the "bad hairdo" sitting in front of them. You see Sister Shownuf sitting beside her husband -amening the pastor that everybody knows she's sleeping with.

As if this isn't enough, Deacon Debonair winks as he goes by while taking up the "tithes and offerings". You know the one you work with that's been flirting with you in the break room for the last few months.

The sexist display perpetuated every time an older woman in the church brings the young lady on the front row a sheet to drape across her legs if the dress she's wearing is one centimeter above her knees.

This pitiful mockery unfolding before my eyes made my spirit weak. The mere act of dragging yourself out of bed every Sunday morning to enter a place of worship does not make you better than me and the behaviors I witnessed while in attendance proved this point.

.For me, my House of Worship beats deep inside the center of my chest. It pumps the blood of life through my body every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

I know some may feel this isn't the right decision but it's MY decision and the beauty of life is that our Lord gave us all FREE WILL. My love for Him is no less sincere and intense than Sister Sanctified's, the faithful member that's at every function - pastor's anniversary, friends and family day, Thursday night Bible Study, Missionary Meeting, Youth Sunday Service, and let's not forget good ole fashioned "Covenant" meeting! (Y'all remember that one? You had to have some old folks with roots so deep in the South that a bulldozer couldn't get to 'em to know anything about that one).

It took witnessing all these hypocritcal behaviors to make me realize I am the House, the embodiment of Christ. He dwells within me.

And there's no better company to keep. It's more than just a Sunday morning tradition. It's an everyday love affair.

Occasionally your word still means something

Source

Last Tuesday I woke from a much needed afternoon nap in complete darkness. There had been some type of power surge that left the entire neighborhood without power for about an hour. On a sweltering afternoon in the Mississippi heat, that ain't good.

Once the power came back on all was well with the world again until I realized the surge had apparently killed my television. Of course, I freaked out. Money doesn't grow on trees and if it did, I'd have picked it bare long ago.

A few nights later I was at work lamenting about my dead television. Woe, is me. A coworker suggested I file a claim with the power company. I headed straight for the computer, filed the claim and have been waiting patiently for a positive response.

It arrived today.

A company that handles insurance claims for the power company called me early this morning. The guy I spoke to on the phone was pleasant, not all hardcore like people that have the power to give it or not give it can sometimes be.

He asked about the size, age and price I'd paid for the tv. I politely gave him this information and was then told to expect a call back from him shortly. When he called back he said the claim investigation was now complete and the check to compensate me for my damages (the full price of the tv) would be cut this afternoon. I could expect to receive it around the first of next week.

Whatchu say! 

Then the wheels start turning. You dumb ass...you should have told him it was a 63" plasma widescreen with built in surround instead of that 37" view finder sitting over there.

I dismissed that thought completely....just not my style.

But a shady dealer would have pounced on that opportunity. I mean it's not like anyone came out to take a look at the dead tv. They didn't even ask for a serial/product number.

Just my word.

Can you even remember a time when your word was truly your bond? When folks shook on it and that's all that was required. When people did the honorable thing even when nobody was looking. I sure as hell can't -

.....until today.

Not feeling "tingly down there" any more when you look at him or maybe your va-jay jay looks like Freddie Krueger woke you out of a dream - There's hope!!

At the tender young age of 40 years and 7 months, I'm growing quite weary of all the surveys, research, and other scientific data detailing how totally horrible my future sex life is expected to be. I mean give me a break! You'd think turning 40 was the equivalent to a strong dose of intravenous potassium.

The most recent research data I've come across was the basis for an article I viewed the other day on MSN Health & Fitness: Sexless After 40? Don't be!

This brainy piece details 7 surprising reasons romance sputters and what you can do about it.

Now like I've said time and time again I'm no expert but I'm no idiot either! You don't last in this world 40 years without knowing a couple of secrets of your own to, as Millie Jackson put it over 20 years ago...when I was too young to know what the hell she was talking about, keep the home fires burning.

So, let's chop this survey up bit by bit and feed it to the people-who-buy-this-crap-until-they-learn-better section of the audience.


1. Pain and Discomfort
Blamed on vaginal dryness and atrophy - No. #1 complaint of women over 40 caused by yada yada yada (read their study if you need all the juicy pun intended details).

Solution
oral estrogen, an estrogen ring (inserted for 3-month intervals), a dissolvable tablet inserted into your va-jay jay, vaginal moisturizers, or your good old fashioned water based lubes e.g. KY and Astroglide

My WTF!
The study is about why you don't seem to be getting any. If I've got to be worried about a ring dislodging and poking the little one eyed guy's one eye out while we're getting busy or running off to the bat cave just when things start to heat up to insert my Vaja-seltzer tablet....I still don't think I'll be getting very much.

As for the atrophy, some chicks might welcome that change. I'm just saying...

Sorry but the KY and Astroglide don't even deserve a mention. If you haven't figured out that a stash of this stuff should be kept in your night stand at all times....you need to...ummmm....put get out more!



2. Not thinking of your partner's problem as a joint problem
A man's No. #1 sexual killjoy - the big ED (erectile dysfunction). Apparently, some women don't urge their mates to seek medical help...even after being left high and not so dry a few times too many...

Solution
Viagra, Cialis, Levitra et al! But that isn't all. These people push the envelope a bit further suggesting vacuum pumps, penile rings, and penile implants

My WTF!
Maybe a few of the chicks in the survey are real pussies and not just owners of one .....I mean ladies, seriously? Is there anyone out there reading this who wouldn't suggest their lover seek help if they kept falling short pun intended time after time.

I hear the medications available for ED are the absolute best....life savers - a term some of my patients have referred to them as.

On the other hand, the vacuum pump is a big NO-NO! If I wanted a blow up doll or to watch him pump it up, I would have ordered one.

Besides, I've seen these things and they look hilarious.

My mother actually found one my ex-husband had in a drawer once...and NO, he never used it with me. My mom was like...what is this? And I was like I have no idea..... *blank stare* Never found out why or how that pump got in our house...or who he may have been using it with....and thank God...I don't give a shit!

Cock ring? Hey, that's your thing. If it makes you happy...live and let live. Just don't come dragging up to the ER when your mate uses the wrong apparatus and can't get it off - we will talk about you....in a very HIPPA friendly way, of course!

The penile implant? Took care of a guy with an infected one once. It was a horrific sight! I also learned that during the healing process the patient has to wear this contraption that keeps his penis upward...flat against his abdomen...at all times. But these were the semi-rigid rod implants which are cheaper than the inflatable/deflatable ones. O.M.G!!! - TMI!!!

3. Using antidepressants
Well known fact that certain meds can increase/decrease one's libido.

Solution
Taking a "drug holiday" - skipping a dose or two is all it will take to restore sexual function without causing a depressive crash.

My WTF!
Any "drug holiday" in a clinically depressed individual presents a risk  of the patient never resuming the medication regimen properly. Even more catastrophic is what happens once the female has been off her meds for a time and realizes the malfunctioning penile implant is the reason she was depressed in the first place!!! What's your answer for that buddy???!!!



4. Not liking to talk about sex
Some couples claim, due in part to upbringing, they've never talked about sex. It's just something they did. Now that they've reached the age of 40+...all the other problems previously listed dryness, atrophy, ED, ...are hard to talk about. So, they simply avoid sex to avoid the problems

Solution
Get comfortable with your body. Start talking about what you like...what you want. Do this in bed or fully clothed. Use "I" sentences. I want you to touch me here rather than "you" sentences. You're too fast

My WTF!
For this I would use my mother as an example of things-that-will-never-happen. People are generally creatures of habit. If you've never done the tell-me-how-you-like-it thing before...chances are you're not about to start.

You could run the risk of being labeled as a sex-crazed or possessed woman by your uptight hubby of 30 years or a no good man who's obviously having an affair with some loose floozy by your uptight wife!




5. Misunderstanding how lusts works
Susan reported that she didn't feel "tingly down there" anymore when she looked at her long time partner, Sal.

The study delves into the stages of sexual activity - arousal, desire, plateau and orgasm.


Solution
Even if you don't feel "tingly" just do it!

My WTF!
Isn't this what started the whole thing? Damn it! Women have been "just doing it" for years. It took a research study to tell us that? We aren't Androids. There's no on/off button. If I don't feel like "doing it", lights out! Sexual intercourse is a two way street (basically). 

6. Lack of sleep
Pretty much self explanatory

Solution
Aim for 7 to 9 hours of sleep a night.

My WTF!
So you can be well rested for that 10 minutes of sex you're gonna be able to have with all that additional sleep...which is going to make you more depressed about sex....angry with yourself for sleeping so much and missing out on all this great sex...which you're not going to want to talk about using all the new "I" sentences you've been practicing while your hubby was asleep and depriving you of SEX!!! Ughhh!!!



7. Funky menopausal glitches (here we go again)
There's a new culprit (new to me) in town known as Lichen Sclerosus - a fairly common skin disorder of the vulva....which is very itchy causing tiny cracks in the skin at the vaginal opening...resulting in painful intercourse. This fairly common problem along with more frequent urinary tract infections, possible bladder prolapse and that damn vaginal "atrophy" again all make sex less than desirable for couples!

Solution
Don't write off sex! Problems can be fixed and remember.....you're not getting older....you're getting better!

My WTF!
Excuse me but after reading about my va jay-jay having the potential to turn into an itchy, scaly "cracked" version of it's former self....dryness only those who've been stranded in a desert for at least 17 days have experienced....a bladder waving at me every time I change my Depends....and all the other nightmarish possibilities revealed in your "Don't Be Sexless after 40" piece....ummm....

I don't think I'll be taking any advice from you!!!

And for 7 of the stupidest suggestions I've ever read you can go F*** Y******* have sex with yourself!!!!!

It's A Party Up in Here!!!

Wishing the Dukester a very happy happy 3rd Birthday!!

Image via Meu Pe de Abobrinha

Seymour and Coco had some delicious chicken grilled just for you....but decided to eat it since neither of them have a driver's license and couldn't make it to your party!!!

What do you see when you see my child?

I was visiting a blog recently and the issue of race came up. I'm saying to myself how in the hell did race come up in the comment section of a post about children, parenting, and the decisions some parents make regarding raising their children. Then self said to me "fool don't you realize everything's about race in this society".  The color of your skin matters and if you'd like to argue that point take a moment to check out this study that determined both white and black children are biased toward lighter skin.

All eight pounds and five ounces of him arrived into the world without ever uttering a sound. I panicked for a few seconds because he was so quiet - too quiet. After the irritating friction of the sterile warm cloths rubbed his little body free of the remnants of me, he cried - lightly but with conviction. Then I saw him. Strapped to an operating table with nothing more to offer him than my smile...my voice...my tears. He was beautiful - dark caramel brown with a hint of rose coloring each cheek. A man child - a future father....husband...uncle...professional...a member of society - waiting for his opportunity to accomplish all his hopes, goals, dreams and aspirations. - [my thoughts about my son the day he was born]

Some of the children questioned in this study were as young as four! Hard to believe or maybe not. I don't just believe it, I've been slapped in the face with it.

A few weeks ago my new neighbor, who happens to be a fellow nurse I've known for years, stopped by my house. Jacob and my nephew were outside riding their bikes...well my nephew was chasing Jacob as he rode his bike.  Mary walked in and immediately began to compliment me on how beautifully decorated the house was. She went on to say how excited she was that my son and I were her new neighbors. Her son is also nine and hasn't had anyone to play with since they moved in. The other kids on the street are either a lot younger or a lot older.

The conversation flowed nicely.  When Mary started heading towards the door I got up to walk her out. By then Jacob and my nephew were running up the driveway to grab their skateboards. I love kids.

Mary noticed Jake's bike hapharzardly thrown against the curb at the end of the driveway. She whipped around and quickly began to tell me to be careful with their bikes. Apparently, some thievery has been going on in the neighborhood. I think she said at least two bikes had been stolen.

On hearing this revelation, Jacob came walking up to me and Mary and said. Someone asked me if I was stealing the bikes.

Now what happened after that was a true Kodak moment. Mary, who's white...had I mentioned that before?...gasped very loudly. I looked puzzled and felt extremely pissed. How dare someone ask my child if he was stealing.

Did he look like a thief....or did he look like a thief ought to look? We, Mary and I, asked at the same time Who asked you that!?

He pointed to the house next door. My heart sank a little bit. This is the one neighbor that hasn't so much as waved at us in the nearly three months we've been in the house.  Well, he didn't have to wave because he was about to meet me and I don't think he was going to forget that visit for a long time.

My nephew finally piped in and said I don't think he lives there Tee Tee. Someone drops him off and picks him up every day.

I asked my nephew what this person looked like. My nephew's response was priceless. He's white with blonde hair and he's about this tall.

Okay. I can handle this. My nephew might be four feet and when demonstrating what he meant by this tall....he placed his hand at his nipple line!

So, the culprit who'd asked the only black child in the neighborhood if he was a thief was probably three or four years old. Disheartening on so many levels but it's not the child's fault which brings up another question - if not him, who?

Society? Statistics? Racism?

Do you squeeze your purse a little bit tighter when a black male is approaching you? Do you lock the car door in a panic when a group of young black men are crossing the street? Do you frantically yank your kids out of the pool when a group of black children jump in to cool off on a hot summer day?

As painful as it is to admit, I've done some of those very things. Yet, I'm angered to the point of seeing red when I hear that someone has made the same assumption about my child.

So, what does that say about me? Can I scream foul every time an incident like this occurs in my child's life? Should I hold other racial groups to a higher standard than I sometimes exemplify myself? Is it okay for me to be cautious when I see someone that looks suspect as long as I don't reveal it to anyone?

What the hell is suspect, anyway!

In that question,  I fear, lies part of the problem...



*What do I see when I see someone's child?

Be Afraid! Paranoia is Patriotic

During a lecture once in nursing school one of our instructors decided to drive a point home by entertaining us with an exercise that illustrated just how flawed oral communication often is.

She chose five students. Four of the students were told to wait outside the classroom and one remained.

While the other 40+ students sat there wondering what was about to happen our instructor shared a series of events in the form of three to four sentences with the one who had been left behind.

The object of this exercise was to prove how inaccurate a story shared by word of mouth becomes each time it's passed from one mouth to another.

The rest of the class had written the original information down so that we'd be able to remember what was said in the beginning.

The four participants outside the door were brought back in one by one. The first student shared the information with the second. The second shared the information with the third. The third shared the information with the fourth and of course, the fourth student shared the information with the fifth.

The goal of the exercise was proven in the first exchange between the first and second student. Details were left out. Some of the information was inaccurate. It was hilarious.

By the time the fifth student entered the room, the entire story had been so horribly distorted all we could do was burst into a sea of laughter which brings me to the point I'm trying to make.

In an age of 24 hour media news coverage, an internet that never sleeps, cell phones, iPads, digital cameras capable of uploading events as they unfold, magazine publications, online newspapers and all the other things we utilize that I've omitted, some of us would still rather get our information from other people.

Perhaps it's a lackadaisical syndrome. I don't feel like reading. I don't listen to the news because it's depressing. I'll just listen to what "they" have to say about it because "they've" been right before. And on that surprisingly rare occasion when "they" is proven wrong, people still don't want to believe it...even when "they" finally admits they've erred.

What's going on in our country today is the underbelly of the worst of the worst. Fear is leading the charge. Why? Because it's human nature to fear what we don't understand and the best way to remain in a cloud of darkness and confusion spawned by fear is to not educate yourself regarding what it IS you do not understand!

I'm willing to bet a lot of people out there protesting this or denouncing that or complaining about the other have never actually sat down and familiarized themselves with the issue their helping lead the charge against.

In the last year, I've heard the terms right wing, left wing, conservative, liberal, socialist, communist, patriot, our country....more than I have my entire life.

"We're gonna take our country back!!!" From who? The last time I checked it was MY country too and I didn't tap out and give it to anybody. The same people that control it now have controlled it for years - CORPORATE AMERICA. And if you think anyone else has control, you're mistaken.

Educate yourselves, people.

Put your pitchforks and your bullshit signs down. It's really getting old. Act like the citizens of a country that's been viewed as a beacon of hope for so many for so long.

A mob mentality doesnt suit the American populace very well but as our history has shown....it's great when you don't know what else to do.






*Who'll be the next one accused of destroying the Constitution?

A quest for the perfect one thousand words

One of my life list goals....#32 to be exact...is to purchase a decent camera and try my hand at photography.

I love my little Canon PowerShot SX100 digital. I just don't think it's equipped to handle the type pictures I imagine myself taking.

I've always been enamored with photos.

When I worked as a home health nurse I would spend hours looking through photo albums while visiting my patients.

I didn't have a clue who any of these people were or why I was so drawn to the hundreds of images I looked at. The older the photo....the more time I spent gazing at it.

My patients (often elderly married couples) would sit there beaming proudly at their wedding photograph from 40 years ago or the husband's old military photo taken prior to the fighting action he witnessed during WWII....just snapshots in time....and I loved it!

So, I'm soliciting a little help.

I've spent some time over the past couple of days reading about cameras, equipment and yada yada yada. It all starts coming together in a big jumbled mess after a few hours self-timer, macro mode, adjusting flash output single lens reflex.

A little advice on a great camera for a beginner would be greatly appreciated.

Here are a few images I thought were exceptional...hijacked from numerous sites all over the blogosphere!

and my all time favorite

Sometimes nurses wanna touch more than your life but refrain due to fear of being jailed!

Stop what you're doing! If you know a nurse and can get within an arm's length of him or her today, give 'em a hug cause they damn well deserve one.

I've spent the last 16 years being vomited on, pissed and pooped on, cursed, given the evil eye, yelled at, and physically attacked. You'd think my job was refereeing a hockey match. But alas, I'm a lowly public servant...a healer to the infirmed and a comforter to the bereaved and I love what I do.

In spite of the aforementioned abuse, I've also been a shoulder to cry on, an advocate for those who couldn't or wouldn't help themselves, a life saver, a playmate to the little ones when mom needed a nap or to run an errand....I've touched lives.

That's what we do.

And now that I've got all that mushy stuff out of the way let me say this:

1) If you come to the emergency room, it's not a first come first serve fast food joint. You may have to not only wait your turn...you might even get skipped over. You see the guy down the hall from you is having a heart attack. I thought you would understand that his problem is just a bit more important than your vaginal irritation.

2) If you come to the emergency room, more often than not, tests are going to be ordered. After you ask me "how much longer it's going to be" the 10th time, I'm just as clueless as I was the first time. But rest assured...I want you home...safe...sound...and snuggled warmly in your bed more than you'll ever know.

3) If you come to the emergency room, standing in the door giving me the Medusa-death-look doesn't magically make things move along any quicker. In all honesty...depending on what type night I'm having...I might just unintentionally place your chart behind the 15 others waiting to be seen.

4) If you come to the emergency room, storming past the nurse who has pain medication in her hand to give you shouting "These people will let you die up in here!" doesn't earn you any brownie points either.

I'm not going to twist your arm in an attempt to convince you to stay and get your medication. There are people who are truly sick and waiting on me to bring their medication to them...and believe me....if you're sick...being a bitch is the last thing on your mind.

5) If you come to the emergency room, please pick your children up off the floor. Do you realize how "germ-y" a hospital is. Allowing your children to try their hand at impersonating a dust mop is a talent that should be perfected in the privacy of your own home.

6) If you come to the emergency room doubled over in pain, try not to ask for a snack plate until after you've received your pain medication. Maybe it's just me...but when I'm in excruciating pain....for some strange reason....I'm just not that hungry.

I'm sure you've figured out by now that tonight hasn't been a very good night.

The moon is full. Did ya hear me? I said THE MOON IS FULL!!....I should have known it was going to be an event-filled night.

There's truly something to be said about the moon (lunar lunatic) and it's phases. When it's full....more than werewolves come out!

Gotta run....there's a drunk in exam 8 licking the side rails and claiming to be black Jesus!!!

Damn - I love my job!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Life List - Transforming thoughts into actions...

I've starred in numerous roles in the past forty years - infant...child...school girl...college woman...mother...nurse...friend...even enemy to some. Each phase teaching me...molding me....creating the unique individual I am today.

Throughout this journey I've waited patiently for the day I would feel like a full fledged adult....the day I stop dreaming and become satisfied with what is....the day I finally accomplish everything I set out to do all those years ago when I first proudly proclaimed "When I grow up I want to......."

It wasn't until I read Karen Walrond's mighty life list that I realized the only finality in life is the day you close your eyes for the last time. Until then...the world is my oyster. I can achieve anything in life I want because I have that freedom.

To keep in step with this awesome revelation...I decided to compile my own mighty life list. Like the person who inspired Karen to start her list said....writing it down can be tranformative...just the act of putting pen to paper...or in this case blogging about it gives those dreams of all the things I want to do in my life substance...no longer are they just thoughts.


My list of 50+ things I want to do before I go - I plan to mark through items as I accomplish them and add new ones as I continue to discover me!!


1. Visit Paris with the man I love

2. Start and finish a 5K run

3. Visit Elmina Castle

4. Attend a professional ball game with my sons   3/14/11 Memphis Grizzlies v. L.A. Clippers

5. Learn at least one ballroom dance (waltz, foxtrot...whatever)

6. Visit the Grand Canyon

7. Be in Times Square on New Year's Eve when the ball drops

8. Vacation in Bora Bora

9. Learn to bake cakes from scratch

10. Eat lunch at Tavern on the Green  September 2005

11. Tour the White House

12. Visit my father's grave

13. Take my mother to Hawaii

14. Obtain a Master's Degree

15. Dip my feet into the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean

16. Take Jacob to Disneyland

17. Visit Mexico

18. Float across the sky in a hot air balloon

19. Tread water

20. Make peach preserves

21. Eat a hotdog and drink beer in the legendary Yankee Stadium 2006

22. See a play on Broadway 2005 and 2006 Mama Mia & The Color Purple

23. Eat beignets at Cafe Du Monde's

24. Give my mother a dozen red roses because I love her

25. Sing karaoke in public

26. Gamble in Las Vegas

27. Reach and maintain my ideal weight (150lbs) - 20lbs away

28. Attend an opera

29. Read one book a month for a year

30. Spend one Christmas Day helping the needy

31. Get my 3rd tattoo while my mother gets her 1st

32. Invest in a great camera and try my hand at photography  [8-4-2010]

33. Build a snowman

34. Visit a paintball park with my son

35. Eat sushi  Spicy Salmon Roll @ Yamato's Japanese Steakhouse 6/16/2011 DELISH!!!

36. Have an article published in a famous publication

37. Go snorkeling

38. Sleep under the stars

39. Kiss my first grandchild

40. Find my soul mate

41. Go fishing and catch a fish

42. Take a spur of the moment road trip with no actual destination

43. Learn Spanish and be able to communicate it fluently or well enough

44. Gamble in Atlantic City

45. Visit Stonehenge

46. Make love outside (in the rain preferably but sunny weather will do)

47. Visit Canada

48. Go on a hayride

49. Change a flat tire

50. Learn to play tennis - Thanks Patricia Tate!!!!

51. Complete this list!

Do You Do The Dew and If So, Do You Know What You're Doing?

courtesy of TaiKaliso

First, let me let you in on a little secret. I'm not the healthiest person in the world. I know....I know...With all my talk about a new attitude regarding my war on father time or me rambling on about being the healthiest me I can be....I still fall short occasionally. My poison - SOFT DRINKS!

For years I was a big Coca-Cola fan....absolutely loved the stuff...until about 4 months ago. I tried Mountain Dew and was hooked. It was like crack in a can....I couldn't get enough of this stuff. I even made fun of the way the liquid looks cloudy sometimes in the bottle claiming it was cocaine dust!!

So I'm sitting in the breakroom at work the other night sipping away on my 2nd Dew of the evening when a co-worker walks in and says "How do you drink that stuff?"...Uh duh...one gulp at a time. She then goes on to say that the Dew leaves a weird taste in her mouth and the vegetable oil makes her wanna spit.

VEGETABLE OIL?????!!!!!

That's right. This stuff contains brominated vegetable oil.

Now the idea of drinking vegetable oil was enough to make me quit cold turkey but I had to dig a bit deeper. What the hell is brominated?! Well, it's vegetable oil that has been bonded with bromine atoms. This treated oil is used as an emulsifier in citrus-flavored drinks. It helps the citrus flavors stay suspended in the drink and produces a cloudy appearance....so THAT was the cocaine dust!

So next time you're out to eat and your favorite soft drink, Mountain Dew, isn't on the menu....check and see if they'll put a little Wesson Oil on ice for ya - brominated, of course!!

Sweet Baby Jesus....I'm doomed!

Listening to folks proclaim Haley Barbour as a top contender for president in 2012 makes me hope the Mayans were right!

Haley Barbour on the impact of the BP oil catastrophe -
Oh, the press is blowing this oil spill stuff out of proportion. Our state's tourism is suffering...come on to Mississippi, our gulf coast is fine. Besides, this type oil isn't toxic but I wouldn't advise anyone to brush their teeth with it. Perhaps his BP connections are more important than a teeny weeny bit of oil in the water...


Haley Barbour on neglecting to mention slavery as part of Confederate History Month -
Oh, there's no need in bringing up slavery as part of Confederate History Month. That don't matter worth diddly. You shouldn't have to be reminded about things such as that....

Painfully ironic coming from the governor of a state that proclaimed at the birth of it's secession from the Union:

"Our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery - the greatest material interest of the world. It's labor supplies the product, which constitutes by far the largest and most important commerce on earth. These products are peculiar to the climate verging on the tropical regions, and by an imperious law of nature, none but the black race can bear exposure to the tropical sun. These products have become necessities of the world, and a blow at slavery is a blow at commerce and civilization."

Am I in the Twilight Zone or what? Yes, my home state has a lot of issues. We lead the nation in obesity, people living under poverty level, infant mortality, sexually transmitted diseases, hypertension, diabetes and unemployment (our dear old guvnor tried to refuse a portion of the federal stimulus to help with that one)....just to prove a point I guess.

You'd think things couldn't get any worse in the Magnolia state but sometimes karma can truly be a bitch. We don't always lead the nation in rotten crap. Sometimes we're dead last - number of people who've completed high school, percentage of students in advanced math curriculums, best state to live....if I say much more, I may have a brain fart and end up on the freakin' statistical list for Mississippians suffering total mental collapse after hearing that Barbour's in the pool of repub presidential candidates in 2012.

I'm fully aware that dear old Haley can't be blamed for all of my states shortcomings. But he certainly hasn't made not one of them any better.

He has, however, managed to make the coveted worst governors in America list - main reason: funding family business ventures with Hurricane Katrina federal aid money. Bet he didn't turn that shit down!

One thing's for sure. The course this country is charting makes the winter solstice of 2012 look better and better!

Scarface???

EMBED-Scarface School Play - Watch more free videos

O-M-G! I don't know where this came from or whose brilliant idea it was...but it's unbelievably inappropriate!

I Couldn't Resisticate!

Gosh darn it. If Miss Wasilla Hillbilly the runner up in a former Miss Alaska pageant can make up words that appear in the Urban Dictionary the same week....then....you betcha - I can too!!

The Domino Effect

I'm not one to complain. I mean...sure I bitch and moan occasionally about things that r-e-a-l-l-y piss me off. But in the grand scheme of things I'm a pretty cool chick. However, yesterday and today haven't been my best days...to say the least.

It all started yesterday while I was taking a little beauty nap before having to pick my son up from day camp. Nature called. So, I woke up and headed to the bathroom. The light wouldn't come on...and since I can't safely tinkle in the dark, I flipped the switch to the light right outside the bathroom...no dice! WTF!

There I go skipping through the house to the kitchen with a full bladder...you know that I'm-about-to-piss-on-myself-walk you do when you're seconds away from total humiliation...looking for a flashlight.

Found it!

Now back to the bathroom...ahhh...business taken care of. Now I try to figure out what's wrong with the lights. First thought...did I pay the bill? Yes. Second thought...am I the only one in the dark?

I head outside and see a huge power truck across the street. He assures me that the problem will be taken care of in an hour or two. Okay. It's still cool in the house. I'm comfortable. I'll just slip on my sneakers and head out to pick Jake up.

Shoes on...keys in hand...open the back door...WHAM!! The garage door is down and there's no juice available to let it up. Let me tell you...staring at your car and realizing you can't move it because it's locked in....is not a good feeling.

I improvise. I call my sister and get her to pick him up for me. But I have to do it on my cell because the house phone has no juice either.

About an hour later....Jake's home safely...I'm sitting in the dark looking crazy...when all of a sudden the lights pop back on. Yayyyy!!!

Everything seems to be in working order....with the exception of my living room television. No lights...no sound...no nothing. I check plugs, knobs, cables, buttons....still, nothing.

I don't have the receipt. I didn't get the extended warranty (although the television is less than 2 years old).

I decide to pay Wal*Mart a visit this morning. There friendly neighborhood policy isn't so friendly anymore. Years ago you could take your second born child back to Wal*Mart and get a full refund...WITHOUT A RECEIPT! Now...it's 90 days or I'm sorry we can't help you.

I leave the store feeling pretty low. Then I decide to call the good people at Vizio.

I'm on hold 4 or 5 minutes waiting on a support technician. Once he gets on the line I can barely understand anything he's saying. I keep asking him to repeat himself and he keeps repeating and I'm still standing in the middle of the floor looking like a hard of hearing goober.

Finally, he suggests I try another power cord...one from a desktop computer monitor. Do what? Then I realize I have an old desktop in the utility room in the garage!

I race out the back door setting off the house alarm....which brings me to my knees...Once my heart is back in my chest I dash over to the tv...try the cord and still n-o-t-h-i-n-g.

His last suggestion is for me to unplug everything and hold the power button for one full minute while he puts me on hold. So, I'm standing there holding the button....beginning to shake because my fine motor is being taxed to it's limit....when Hector finally chimes back in. We go through the plug it up process all over again...and......nothing.

He basically says screw you...you're on your own chick and hangs up.

And how was your day?

P.S. Do TV repairmen still exist and if so, is it even worth it?.......

Google Proves My Sanity Once Again

For the last 20 years I've been trying to remember the name of a movie that creeped me out so bad when I was a kid I had to sleep with my mom until my senior year in high school.

My mom loved watching westerns, made-for-TV-movies and just about everything else that aired between channels 3 and 12 (those were the only ones on the dial at the time). As her trusted little side kick, I would sit with her and watch too. Even today if I see a movie, I can name the stars in it without hesitation.

It had to have been late 70s when I watched the movie Google helped to lift the cloak of forgetfulness from my cobweb cluttered mind today.

The plot, as far as I could remember, was about a family that went on summer vacation....of all places....to an old Victorian style haunted home. The only other thing I could remember was creepy music, weird crazy scary stuff happening....and the mother/wife turning into the old lady who lived upstairs right before the movie went off.

But thanks to  good ole mom....I remembered the actresses name - Karen Black!

So, when my mind began to torment me again today about the name of the movie....I entrusted the help of the mighty Google gods.....All Hail the Mighty Google Gods! And this is the crazy phrase I put in:

Eureka! I found it! Right there before I could remember that I hadn't remembered....the name of the movie I'd been trying to remember for years was staring back at me....BURNT OFFERINGS!!!

If anyone else ever saw this movie....or if you were a kid when you watched it....do you agree that it was one the creepiest, scariest movies you ever saw???

Karen Black was so pretty to me. I hated that she wound up being that ugly old lady in the attic

....and I still do!

Told ya it was creepy....

....And I Was Beginning to Think You Had Some Sanity Left - Hmmmph!

Every since the divorce and for quite some time before that, my ex has utilized every weapon in his arsenal to make my life a living hell. He gives the term bitter a whole new meaning.

Knowing what it feels like to not have a father in your life convinced me that joint custody was the best thing for our 9 year old son. Our drop off day is Friday at 5:00pm. When I was living in my tiny two bedroom apartment the ex would always have Jake there on time...every time.

Now that I've moved into my very own "forever" home there seems to be a problem. He calls my mother every Friday to let her know he's about to drop our son off with her. This means no matter what I'm doing...I have to stop...get dressed (if necessary)...jump in the car and drive to my mother's to pick him up. The really sad part is HE HAS TO DRIVE PAST THE STREET THAT LEADS TO MY HOUSE TO GET TO MY MOTHER'S HOUSE!

I found out a few weeks back that he had no intentions of ever dropping Jake off at home.  I called to see what was causing the delay since it was almost 6pm. He answered the phone, "Jake's at your mother's house"....not Hello...dog....cat....just immediately started talking. I politely informed him that my mother's house wasn't were Jake lived.....and then the cursing and gnashing of teeth began.

Well yesterday Mr. Psycho had Jake to call to let me know he was on his way...I'm thinking...wow, he's finally acting like an adult....a parent....a sane person.

You see...I know how this dude's mind works. If dropping him off at the apartment wasn't a problem....why is dropping him off where I live now a problem?

Because he doesn't want to see my house! Is that not the stupidest most insanely childish thing you ever "read" in your life. But you know what they say....jealousy is a bitch.

Jake arrived on time and our week of playing catch up began. About an hour later my darling mother calls to make sure he had made it safely. I told her yes.

Then she goes on to say, "Well good. Ex called me earlier wanting to drop Jake off here but I told him I was out shopping and he said okay".

Well I'll be a monkey's ass! He isn't behaving any better. He just didn't have any other choice. But hey, I'm not gonna sweat how it happened or why it happened.

Maybe now that he's been forced to see my very own forever home....he won't have to dodge not wanting to see it again.

Oh, did I mention that this guy is a real jerk?

He is The Bees Knees!

Heading to an adoption event in Memphis tomorrow in search of this little angel. I'm sooo in love!

The Truth About Cougar Sex - My Truth!

Time posted an interesting article recently titled The Science of Cougar Sex: Why Older Women Lust. After I finished laughing hysterically at the title, I decided to read this scientific study.

In a nutshell, the group of researchers feel women between the ages of 27 to 45 have more sex than women 18 to 26 because our eggs are old, decrepit and on the verge of extinction at any moment i.e. menopause. So, our inate desire to procreate compels us to work overtime trying to get these sickly little bastards fertilized before the clock runs out while our younger cougars-in-waiting have sex far less because it's easier to fertilize their youthful, fresh abundant supply of eggs.

Well, I'm so sorry but my recent love making sessions don't have a darn thing to do with fertilizing any eggs. And although this may be correct on some psychological level....my physical reasons scream....ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I think maturity, being very comfortable with my body, knowing what I want and don't want and being able to "truly" enjoy sex is the reason I'm so downright lustful!

As a young woman, I spent a lot of time planning sex. Since I wanted kids, a lot of the sex my husband and I had was centered around my most fertile periods and often was motivated by that and that alone.

On the flip side of that coin, after the kids arrived, sex had to be scheduled around them. Trying to get hot and steamy with a toddler barging in screaming for a sippy cup refill is not my idea of enjoyable sex. Or working 12 long hours....getting home and finally relaxing...only to be reminded (usually by a stiff prod) that tonight is date night....ugh!

Now that the kids are older it's time for me.

With the kids out of the house or at least old enough to be away from home (overnight slumber parties, etc) I'm free to be me and explore without risk of interruption.

And with NO husband...I can finally stop faking those freakin' headaches!!!!

Bangs? C'mon is that the best you could do - really?

Okay, here it goes:

On my honor, I will try to serve God, my country and to live by the Girl Scout laws... (what I remember to be the Girl Scout Pledge)

On my honor: I will try to serve God and my country, to help people at all times, And to live by the Girl Scout law. (the actual Girl Scout Pledge)

Keeping in mind the fact that I haven't recited these words since 1980, I don't think I did half bad. Yeah, that's right. I was a member of the elite coming of age girl group affectionately known as Girls Scouts of the USA. 

I don't think there was anything better than having an opportunity to wear that green uniform with the cute little white blouse underneath...made complete by your over the shoulder sash that displayed either two things....1) how kick ass you were as a girl scout with all your badges to prove it or 2) how crappy you were and how you totally sucked as a girl scout because your sash only had 3 badges....two of them being your troop number and what district of the state your organization represented.

What memories. I've still got that sash somewhere around here and the uniform.

I hadn't thought about that part of my life in forever til I saw an article over at Jezebel discussing the Girl Scout logo's new facelift.

Here's the old one

....and here's the new one....(hmmm?)

The female face in the newer logo seems to have fresh new bangs....and supposedly new lips and a perkier nose. The nose looks a bit more rounded to me than the nose from the old logo. But the new lips look kind of Homer Simpsonish....

????????????????????????????????

How does changing a brand the brand i.e. a freakin' logo generate more interest in a group that pretty much becomes uninteresting as soon as a girl hits puberty? Or at least that's what happened with my GS troop.

It was fine for elementary school...but the thought of wearing that uniform in junior high made most of us cringe and jump ship. Hell, I don't know. They may not even be wearing the uniform anymore.

Don't get me wrong...my experience as a girl scout was awesome....slumber parties, hiking, summer camp - learning skills like building a camp fire, scavenger hunts, sewing, arts & crafts - it was all super cool.

I just think rebranding may take a bit more than adding a bang and changing a few facial features cause if this is an attempt to perhaps...be more ethnically inclusive.....everyone knows that bangs are on the list of stuff white people like!



P.S. I'd like to give a shout out to all my fellow Girl Scouts! Three fingers up homies!!!!

Doing Jello Shots in the ER

What ever happened to the days when all the nurses wore neatly pressed little white dresses with shoes, stockings and hats to match? Every hair was always in place under those f-ugly little hats and you never could find a single stain on those uniforms....Well since I am a nurse let me tell ya what I think happened to all those nancy do-gooders......

They retired or died from those painful bobby pins poking 'em in the head, those tight ass support hose cutting off their circulation or Clorox poisoning suffered trying to keep those whites white.

Today's nurses are far more relaxed....in dress and demeanor. We like to keep the atmosphere as patient-friendly as possible. Doing away with the white may have cut down on the white coat syndrome so many people suffer from.

 Watching your nurse down a few jello shots at the nurses station may make you feel a bit more at ease too.....well, maybe not....but the idea works for me!!  To hell with the coffee and Coke. I need something a lot stronger than caffeine to calm my nerve after 12 hours in this place....and I'm thinking a stiff shot of vodka or gin tucked away in a nice little square of jellow will do the trick!

Okay...enough of that fantasy....before someone calls the Nursing Board on me. However, I did come close to doing jello shots at work....or at least my mind told me that's what I was doing.

A few nights back one of my coworkers was handing out these cute little square packets of "stuff". I saw people peeling the seal off the top, squeezing 'em from the bottom and sucking 'em up in one swift slurp...so I'm thinking....WHAT THE HELL! I know these fools aren't doing jello shots at work. and if they are and didn't tell me about it, I'm really pissed *blank stare*

Once I discovered that these little "treats" were lychee jelly mini cups I thought I'd better give it a try. I mean they looked good and everyone seemed to be quite "happy" after they got a few of 'em under their scrubs belt.

They're actually really good. Lychee is a tropical fruit tree native to China. My coworker had visited the Asian Food Market in Memphis and brought these little snacks back for us to try. I guess you could eat them room temperature but refrigerating them and eating them slightly chilled was better for me.

It's just that they reminded me of jello shots so much til I started thinking I was a little tipsy. Kinda like the time my girlfriend and I were eating kiwi at the buffet bar in Shoney's and I swore I was seconds away from the big O!!! (your mind is truly a dangerous weapon when used improperly).

Be warned before you venture out to try these little goodies. They aren't for everyone. The package did have instructions and a warning which read:

please squeeze the cup gently and taste the jelly in several bites or with a spoon. This product is not appropriately edible for elders and children under the age of 5

I'm like....WTF does that mean! If old folks and kids know how to use a spoon, chew and swallow...what type of crazy warning is this...

Maybe the folks in China don't know it but in this country that's what we feed our very young and our very old....JELLO!! It's on every menu in every nursing home I've ever worked in and Bill Cosby peddled it to kids for years.....maybe it's a cultural thing...I dunno.

Try 'em if you ever get the chance....(unless you're old)...which means you can still try 'em but AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Auntie Em, I am not...

So the other day I was thinking up great ideas to help the boys (my Jacob and my nephew Jordan) have a fun filled afternoon. Jordan is basically the 3rd son I never had. He and Jake are pretty inseparable. Needless to say I feel pretty rotten when Jake takes off down the street on his hot rod Mongoose and Jordan strikes out trying to chase him down like an orphan straight out of Mudfog.

After witnessing this more times than I cared to, I throw both of them in the car and haul it to the neighborhood Wal*Mart to purchase Jordan his own bike.

Fitting myself, two boys, household items can't leave Wal*Mart without 'em and a bike into a mid-size sedan is no small feat. But we made it back home without a traffic citation, or damage to any of my merchandise...including them.

Everything would have been perfect. Helmet...check. Elbow pads...check. Knee pads...check. Bike...check. Jordan...check. Obstacle...Jordan doesn't know how to ride a bike!!

No problem. I taught both my boys how to ride without a problem. As I remember it, we had the most fun ever....bonding....cheering....mother and son...as one...taming the bike monster together.

Fast forward to about two days ago at high noon. Jake was showboating and getting in the way. Jordan was wobbling worse than a bobble head on the dash of a 1978 El Camino and I was sweating like a ho' in church!

After spending 3 hours in the drive way with my nephew, he still can't ride. I don't know what went wrong....maybe it was too hot....maybe it wasn't as easy as I remember....maybe this kid'll be packing training wheels for the rest of his life.

All I know is...he stormed in the house balling like a newborn baby, I passed out under the magnolia tree...and Jake rode off in the sunset on.

Maybe we'll try again....ummm....between the 1 and 15th of Neveruary!

If You Come Any Closer, You're Gonna Get It!

Said this 86 year old, bedbound, supplemental oxygen requiring woman to the police after they entered her bedroom responding to a 911 call her grandson had made earlier concerning his fear that his granny was becoming suicidal.

If I hadn't read it for myself, I wouldn't believe it. But I did read it...twice here and here!

Lona Varner, now 87, and her family are suing the city of El Reno, Oklahoma.

The laughable part of this whole sorted mess is the reason the officers felt justified in using extreme force to  "incapacitate" the woman...here it goes......she assumed a more aggressive posture in bed once they entered her room. SO SHE WAS TAZED.....TWICE...WHILE IN HER BED!!!!!!

WTF!!!???!!!

Oh....it gets worse. After Varner was even more incapacitated than an 86 year old bedridden person already is, officers grabbed her arms (tearing her skin), stepped on her O2 tubing (depriving her of oxygen) and HANDCUFFED HER!!!

I wonder how they got the hospital bed in the squad car.

These sociopaths officers need to be put in the SeaWorld tank with Tilikum taken out back and flogged to death fired!!!!

Balls, Ass, More Balls and Lebron James - Details at 11!

Maybe I'm just too serious. Maybe I don't know what's news worthy and what's not. I don't know. It could be my heartfelt concern over the number of military troops, or civilians for that matter, that have died since these freakin' unauthorized wars began. Nah...perhaps it's my astonishment that oil has been gushing into the gulf since May and just the other day some reports of oil balls (look that one up in that stupid urban dictionary) the size of a baby gremlin are washing up on shore in Texas! Whatever my problem is leaves me little patience for the bull our media is trying to peddle as news these days.

I mean really folks let's get serious...I like basketball. Well not really but I used to really like basketball - back when it was a game and not a meat market full of over paid, over rated, over indulged boys that cheat on their wives, beat up fans, post naked pics online...and hold a full fledged press conference to say - "I'm going to South Beach!" WTF! Wouldn't a written statement from his agent have sufficed?

Then there's America's First Family....not to be confused with the Obama's. I'm talking about the Kardashians. Kim, Kourtney, Khloe, and the rest of the Armenian empire. If I'd known giving a horrible blowjob, having a fake ass, and hosting my own how-many-brothers-can-I-sleep-with-in-one-life-time marathon were going to make me rich, famous and the spokesperson for cosmetics, fragrances and clothing lines....I'd still be poor as hell!

It's like balls (bouncy ones or those housed in a sac) and who's playing with them are more important than our ecosystem being shot to hell...or our economy and political infrastructure being in the worst shape I've seen in decades....And while I'm at it let me just get one other little thing off my chest.

The first president I can recollect watching on TV was Gerald Ford. I was all of six or seven when he was sworn in as our Commander-in-Chief. And I'm willing to bet my folks didn't agree with everything he did or said as POTUS...or Reagan, or Bush, or Clinton, or lil'Bush...but one thing you had to admit is that the office itself was worthy and deserving of respect.

When Big George Bush gave the commencement speech at my sister's graduation from little Alcorn State University (a historical black college) in Lorman, MS it's was a big to do! This was the freakin' president!!! What happened to that? What happened to the respect...the high regard for the highest office in the land? President Obama may not have been your choice, your candidate or your color...but he is your president....okay, done with that.

Crap....what was I saying about balls!?

Visiting an Old Friend is Always Fun

One of the many highlights of my childhood was walking to the local library. William Alexander Percy Memorial Library was about 8 or 9 blocks from my house and walking there after school or on weekends was one of the few glimpses of freedom I was privy too.

I mean really. What parent would look at you twice if you asked to go to the library to study, prepare for a school writing project or participate in a summer reading program. It was the perfect escape.

I'm not saying I always made it to the library. But who gives a rat's bum about those minor details.

Jacob and Jordan tagged along. The whole trip was to finally scratch off some of the books on Jacob's summer reading list. We decided on one from the Hardy Boys series.

The place was just as I remembered....quiet, cool, and bookishly inviting. If I were delusional, I'd swear the little prude at the information desk was the same one who issued me my first library card over 20 years ago.

There were a few new items - 10 to 20 computers have taken the place of the card catalog (ha! remember that heinous wooden block of drawers?).  The furniture was basically the same and the place smelled like books.

I proudly signed up for a new library card and spent the last few minutes reminiscing about the fun times spent there so many many years ago. I'm not sure how often kids use the library these days but I think it's sad that it's not as necessary as it used to be.

My library excursions made me feel like a big girl. I could walk there on my own, study without being threatened on my own, find the material I needed on my own - a real sense of accomplishment.

Once we left with our Hardy Boys mystery we walked up Main Street and snapped a few more photos....

St. Joseph Catholic Church built in 1907

stone kids praying to a stone Virgin Mary in the church garden

Ummm...some pretty flowers

The Tender Years

We have control over the choices we make in life; not the consequences

As a dysfunctional adult from a single parent home, one of my greatest accomplishments was marrying the man who would one day be a father to my children. Things were working out quite well until the father and I stopped loving each other.

Oh, I'll always love him in spite of but the love that a man and woman share as a couple, as a unit, as one, left long ago.

Once the dust settled all that was left were two handsome boys. smile The oldest has graduated high school, joined the military to pay for college and seems to be adjusting well as a brand new adult in society.

The youngest didn't get off so easy. He's 9 years old and caught in the middle of a marriage gone wrong.

I thought long and hard about seeking sole custody of my son and sometimes wish I had gone through with it. But the little girl in me who never knew a father's love, never felt the safety of his arms, never had the pleasure of him making one of my dates break out in a cold sweat wouldn't allow me to do that to my child.

So, we both agreed on joint custody. Now my child is shuttled between two homes - regrouping, readjusting, relearning...every other week. It's not the most ideal situation. Sometimes I think it'll wind up doing more harm than good and during those times of doubt, I pray.

I pray that a broken marriage won't break his spirit. I pray that our failure won't impede his pursuit of a lasting relationship. I pray he understands that even though our love didn't last, our love for him is and always will be unwavering. I pray that in the midst of the most chaotic period in my life, he has an inner peace that can't be shaken.

I pray I've done the best as his mother that I could do without losing myself.

I pray for my son.

Dudes, You Can Finally Stop Denying It - It's What Makes You Special and Unique!

I often wonder if the dead can actually see or hear what we're doing. My mother used to comfort me as a child when a family member passed away by telling me.... "It's okay ____________ ( insert dead person's name) is watching you from heaven and will always be with you".

Well, I guess that's okay when the worst you've done is broken a couple of your crayons and shoved them back in the box hoping your parents don't find out.

But when you get older and start delving into the more "grown up" things...you begin to get a little un-easy with the idea of Grandma Lillie or Auntie Em watching you practice those kama sutra illustrations you saw online the other night.

But I digress -

Found an interesting article over at Dangerous Minds which was pulled from Scientific American. According to an essay by research psychologist, Dr. Jesse Bering, one reason humans are so special and unique is the fact that we masturbate....... a lot!

Not sure what the estimate is for the ♀. But ♂, on average, choke their chicken spill their seed drain the vein masturbate about every 72 hours!

So, to all you ♂ who swear you've never done such a thing (yeah, right....)

You're neither special nor unique....just a really bad liar!