I.C.E.???

Those who know me know that I like to walk for exercise. I walk at least 3 times a week, 5 when I'm able.

Although I really enjoy walking with my running group, Black Girls RUN!, lately I've been unable because my schedule just hasn't allowed it. So I've been walking closer to home, some days with my son.

The past 2 days I've walked by myself because my son wasn't home. Whenever I walk alone safety is always at the forefront of my mind. I tend to think about 2 things:

1. If someone abducts me, who would know, and would I be found?
2. If I have a medical emergency, who would anyone contact?

I don't even know HOW to address the first question. I guess I need to start letting somebody know where I'm going, and my route. I rarely do that.

For the second question though, this is where "I.C.E." comes in handy on the cellphone. "I.C.E." by the way, stands for "In Case of Emergency".

I have two problems with both questions.

1. My smartphone (like most) locks, and without knowing the pass code, there's no way to get in and find my "I.C.E." contact.
2. I DO NOT HAVE AN "I.C.E." contact.

No husband. No "significant other". NOBODY.

Yes, I have 3 children, one under 18 (so I couldn't list him anyway), one over the age of 18 and the other over the age of 21, but I would not want them to be bothered with a call telling them that I've had an emergency. That's just too much to put on them. And I've come to the very recent realization that unless the person is my husband/significant other or my child...nobody really cares. People have lives of their own and I can not expect them to put me on the front burner and everything else on the back. Doing that just leads to disappointment and it wouldn't be fair to them or me (not sure if that was grammatically correct, but in my mind, it works).

It's also a reason why I hate doctor's visits. They always want me to update forms, and there's always that dreaded line for "Emergency Contact". I mean really, what is a person supposed to put there when there's no one to list??? Children can list parents. Husbands can list wives. Wives can list husbands. But me???

So other than my children right now, until a husband/significant other comes along there's NO ONE.

And no, I'm not having a "pity party", I am simply stating the facts. THERE IS NO ONE. At least no one human, here on earth.

That leaves only One. My "I.C.E." contact is GOD. The ONLY One I can count on and trust. Again, not having a "pity party", just stating the facts.

He knows what to do with me if I have an emergency and my emergency would not be an intrusion on Him. I trust Him.
He knows my desires if I end up in a life altering situation. I trust Him.
He knows how long I'll stay here on earth and when it's time to go. I trust Him.


So am I worried when I'm out walking alone? Not at all. It'll still be "one foot in front of the other", and I'll be just fine.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: Do YOU

have an "I.C.E" contact? If not, what's your plan?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Whose Time is it Anyway?!?

The longer I work FOR someone else, the more I realize that I NEED to be working FOR MYSELF.

Now let me preface the rest of this by saying, YES, I am grateful for my job and realize that thousands would love to have my seat. I get that completely.

Now...with all that being said...I need to be self-employed, doing my own thing, where my time will be my own.

When I'm tired and need to take some time off, I'll be able to, because my time will be my own. No longer will I look forward to taking TWO vacation days in September when it's only July. Do you realize how FAR AWAY September is when I need a vacation NOW?!? And even then, all I'll get are TWO days because that's all I'll have available.

Or how 'bout not being able to take time off to take my kids to the dentist so that they can have their dental work done. Nope...can't do it. Apparently, I don't have any sick time. Well, actually...I do have 1.5 hours Regular sick time and 16 hours (that's TWO DAYS) of Extended Sick time (that I can't touch).

What's "Extended Sick time?" I'm glad you asked.

It's sick time that I didn't take last year so it rolled over to this year. But I can't touch it unless an arm falls off or something crazy like that. So, as much as I NEED to use that time to take my kids back to the dentist...I AM UNABLE TO. What kind of sense does THAT make?!? Absolutely NONE!

So basically, it's great for the company that I didn't use up all my sick time last year, and even better for them that 16 hours are sittin' on the books that they still get the keep at the end of THIS year (unless my arm falls off). That really irks me!!!

So yeah...it's time for me to get my butt in gear, get my business started, and get some books published, so that I can work for ME and make my OWN schedule.

Let the DIALOGUE begin! Are you self-employed, or do you work FOR somebody like I do? If you work for an employer, are you ok with that or would you like to do your own thing one day?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

MANicure???

Tonight's post will be short and sweet 'cause I'm sleepy.

So I went to get a pedicure today and when I sat in my spa chair I noticed this big burly man in the chair next to me. Yep, he was gettin' a "pedi" too.

It always catches me a bit off guard when I see men in the nail shop...AS the customer. But hey...men need nice feet too, right? I mean really, have you seen some of the feet in the sandals that men wear. EWWW...just EWWW! Just a mass of ash and crust. Because of that, I can appreciate the fact that some men actually get their feet taken care of. Thank you!

So he sat there getting his "pedi" and chilled. Once that was done I got another surprise. Nancy (one of the workers at the shop) escorted him over to another area where he dipped his hands in soapy water in preparation of his MANicure. THAT really caught me off guard.

Personally, I like a man who's hands look and feel a bit rough. I don't care much for a man who's hands are softer than mine. Well, considering the fact that this guy got a MANicure and I didn't, chances are that his hands were softer...at least today.

Once he was done, he slipped on his sandals, paid the lady, and headed out the door to his big ol' Chevy Silverado. O.o

Yep.

So, Let the DIALOGUE begin: MEN...do you get MANicures & pedicures? If not, why? And if so, why?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Gettin' Hungry?

This year for my birthday (which by the way was 13 days ago), one of the gifts that I received was a gift card to my FAVORITE restaurant, The Stinking Rose.

Today, I used the card and enjoyed a FABULOUS meal. I mean really, ANYTHING with GARLIC is destined to taste DEE-LISH!

GARLIC is most definitely one of my favorite things to eat, and I have seven more foods that rank pretty high up there too. So...you guessed it...I'm gonna list them here.

AVOCADO. Simply delicious. Sometimes I eat avocado by itself with just a little S&P. Othertimes, I have it in salad or with tacos, enchiladas, and let's not forget GUACAMOLE. YUM!!!

ARTICHOKE. I love it marinated and added to salads. Really love it as a warm dip. And with melted butter...oh my! YUM again!!!

CRAB. Although breaking crab legs open is a bit more work than I like to do for my food, once those bad boys are cracked and that LONG piece of leg meat comes out...all that work is worth it. Dipped in cocktail sauce, or melted butter. Ooh wee!!! Then there's crab dip, and crab cakes. Shut yo' mouth!!!

DARK CHOCOLATE. Oh, there are many things I could say about this one, but I'm gonna keep it clean. I will say that I used to HATE dark chocolate. Thought it tasted bitter. Now, I LOVE dark chocolate (with all of its antioxidants) and when I eat milk chocolate now it tastes like I'm eating straight sugar...YUK. So yeah, two thumbs up for dark chocolate.

GARLIC. I just can't say enough about garlic. Interestingly, I didn't discover garlic until I was an adult living on my own. Growing up, my parents NEVER used garlic. At least not fresh garlic. Maybe garlic salt or garlic powder...maybe, but that's a BIG maybe. I remember tasting it in food for the first time and wondering what it was in the food that was making it taste SO DARNED GOOD. I found out that it was garlic and began cooking with it. I use it in practically EVERYTHING that I cook. Baked dishes, sauteed dishes, soups, stews...pretty much everything except for sweet dishes. Oh, and I eat LOTS. So I'm sure that I reek! But of course, you know the rule about funky folks...they can never smell their own funk. So although I am 100% positive that I reek of garlic most days, my kids are the only ones who straight out tell me, "Mom...you STINK!!!" To which I reply, "I may stink, but I'm NEVER sick. When was the last time I had a cold or flu???" Crickets. Their answer is always the same, "You don't get sick." EXACTLY! They're never sick either. Why??? Because momma loads them up with garlic. Thank you very much! So yeah...garlic...yeah.

KALE. This is another food that I discovered as an adult. Four years ago to be exact when I was diagnosed with my "special" retina issues. My retina specialist was HORRIBLE and basically told me that I would eventually lose my eyesight. Yeah...that was a pretty heavy blow. So in a panic, I ask what can be done to keep that from happening. His non-caring answer was, "nothing". Gee...thanks for nothing. So, I began researching on my own. First of all, I am a woman of faith and I believe that the same God Who made these eyes will sustain the vision in these eyes. So, PRAYER was the first order of the day (and still is...EVERYDAY.) Then I began reading about the benefits of dark leafy greens and KALE was at the top of the list. I tried it in salads but didn't care for it very much that way. Then...I started roasting it. BINGO! I pretty much eat roasted kale every night now. Layer it on a cooking sheet, drizzle with a dab of "EVOO" and sprinkle with a pinch of salt. Pop it in the oven til it gets crispy and ENJOY. So good!!!

PERSIMMONS. Yep...another adult discovery. I had my first persimmon two years ago and FELL IN LOVE! Where had this amazingly delicious fruit been all my life. I couldn't get enough of 'em. And since I discovered them toward the end of their season, there weren't many left...so I rationed them. Yes...that's how good they are. Difficult to explain their flavor so I would just have to encourage you to try one when they're in season again (usually around November-ish).

So there you have it folks. My seven FAVORITE foods. If you've been following the blog, you know that I ALWAYS do things in sevens. That's just my number.

Now...Let the DIALOGUE begin: What is YOUR favorite food. You don't have to list seven but it sure would make me happy if you would at LEAST list one (so I don't feel like I'm just talking to myself).

Talk to me!

Til next time...

One Word

It was a blistering cold December day.

Shoppers were out en masse and sounds of the season could be heard everywhere.

Joel said goodnight to his coworkers and headed to his car in preparation for a hurried trip to the post office. He had to get there before it closed as today was the last day that he could mail his packages so that his 3 year old daughter Adria, and 4 year old son Zavier would receive them in time.

This Christmas was so very special to Joel. It was the first time he’d ever been able to get gifts for them.

As much as he’d always wanted to, being in and out of jobs (mostly out) he just never had the financial means to do so. He was always just a young cat tryn’ta make it. This time was different.

He’d had a steady (legal) job for 6 months now. He was 30 years old and on the right track, finally.

So off he headed to the post office. Dodging in and out of traffic. Hoping that the signals would work in his favor. He HAD to get these gifts mailed. They HAD to arrive on time so that his babies would have “gifts from Daddy” to open on Christmas morning. And so that he wouldn’t have to hear Julia’s mouth telling him that he’s a "no-good father" that their kids could never count on.

True, those words may have accurately described the “old” Joel, but his life had since turned around. He had done a complete 180 from who he used to be.

Even though Joel knew that he and Julia would never be a couple again, he knew that it was still important for her to see him as a good father to their two children.

When Joel and Julia were together things didn’t go too well.

Joel had trust issues as a result of his mother abandoning him when he was 5 years old. She dropped him off at school one day and never picked him up, nor did she ever come home again. His mom was just GONE. Because of that, he was unable to trust Julia (or any other woman he had ever dated). In his mind, they ALL leave eventually. Without word or warning, they ALL simple LEAVE. At least that’s what he thought.

The lack of trust was too much for Julia so in some ironic twist of fate, Joel was actually right…she left. She had to.

Finally, Joel arrived at the post office. Unloaded the wrapped gifts from the car, made his way inside and stepped into the crowded…almost non-moving line. Without thinking, he began humming along to the music being piped in from the speakers…this was his favorite song when he a little boy. Without even realizing it…

***

Colleen checked her watch. She was so relieved that she made it to the post office on time. Ten minutes more and the doors would’ve been closed.

She had to make it so that she could get her granddaughter’s gift in the mail so that it would arrive in time for Christmas. Sure, little Lena was only a year old and was clueless about Christmas and presents, but this was important to Colleen, and to Carina, Lena’s mommy, Colleen’s 24 year old daughter.

Colleen was 26 when she had Carina. As mother and daughter they had a very close bond. As a child Carina often thought her mother to be too “clingy” and a woman of many secrets. Over time she accepted the fact that this was just how her mother was. It was easier that way. Whenever Carina questioned Colleen, a sadness came over Colleen that would sometimes take weeks to fade away. So, Carina stopped asking.

Colleen scooped the gifts out of the car and made her way into the post office, finding a spot at the very end of the line. That was alright. At least she was IN line.

While she waited, she found herself humming along to the tune that was playing through the speakers. The song hit her like a wave. Instantly, so did the sadness.

It was a song that she used to sing to her son when he was a little boy. It was his favorite.

One lone tear rolled down her face.

As the line coiled and she inched her way through she spotted something. As the lone tear trickled down her face the man passing by on her left also in line, had a lone tear trickling down his face.

She almost dropped her boxes.

She wanted to get out of line but couldn’t.

She stood there…frozen.

He hadn’t seen her yet and she was hoping he wouldn’t.

Too late.

His eyes locked right in on hers.

Could it be?

It was.

What should he say?

Should he say anything?

How does one ask 25 years worth of questions while standing in line at the post office?

Joel could only get one word out, “Mom?”

***

Let the DIALOGUE begin! Today's post was in response to the following creative writing prompt: An estranged mother and son who haven't seen or spoken to each other in more than twenty years meet in line at the post office in December, arms full of packages to be mailed. What do they say to each other?

What do YOU think they say to each other?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Does this stuff ONLY happen to ME???

Ok, so get this.

July 7th was a big day for me so I decided to buy a new dress to mark the event. The only requirement was that the dress be white.

Yeah, I had a white dress that I've worn for a few years, but this occasion warranted a new one. So, since I couldn't find anything in the stores, I decided to try "online shopping."

I found a dress online that was really really pretty. Perfect for the occasion. Looked great on the model. So I ordered it. My "egret white" dress was on its way. Egret what?!? I had to look up what "egret" was and it turns out that it's a bird...a WHITE bird, so I was good.

Well, that's what I thought til the darned thing showed up. This dress wasn't white or anything close to white. This dress was BEIGE! BEIGE!!!

So I return it to a local store and the store clerk looks right at it and says, "oh yeah honey...that's the color of egret white. It's an 'off' white." Well it wasn't "off" white on the model or I wouldn't have ordered it.

Anywhoo...I go online again and order another WHITE dress.

This one looked really pretty on the model so I was sure that it would work. Unfortunately, on the model was the ONL

Y place where it looked good.

I took it out of the package and it looked like a NIGHT GOWN! Something that Laura Ingalls from "Little House on the Prairie" would wear. It was HORRIBLE. I couldn't even "dress it up". So...it had to go back too.

Plan C was in effect. I ordered yet another dress. This one was WHITE and didn't look like a NIGHT GOWN. What could go wrong???

The dress arrived and it was perfect. Right color, right style. I was "good to go", or so I thought.

I got up, fixed my face, tried on some new lipstick (I never wear lipstick) and proceeded to get dressed. Can you guess what happened next???

I went to pull the dress over my head and felt it very quickly rub against my lip. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? In a split second...that's how quickly it happened. And that was all the time that it took to get RED lipstick on my pristine WHITE dress. Um...yeah...couldn't wear that ANYWHERE.

Urgh!

So, off to the closet I went to get the white dress that I've been wearing for years. Right color, right style, and lipstick free. It didn't matter to me that the dress wasn't NEW. I was just glad to have it.

Yeah...these are the kind of things that happen to ME.

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Have you ever had a situation that just seemed to go ALL wrong and eventually turned out okay?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Helpmate, Husband, Partner, Friend...FIND ME Already!!!

"Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."
~Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

***

Although I can't quite put my finger on what has changed in me lately, I can certainly say that SOMETHING has changed. In the 9 days since my birthday...SOMETHING has changed.

Out of nowhere I have developed a fierce desire to realize and work toward my goals. My goal of beginning a non-profit literacy program, my goal of consistently posting here at The Dialogue Den, my goal of finding a way to operate in my passion as God has created me to do. I am FOCUSED!

With all this focus has come the realization that every day I run out of time. There simply aren't enough hours in a day for me to get done everything that needs to be done. I could certainly use an extra 9 hours. And I know exactly where those hours would come from. But for now, I don't have them...they belong to something else.

So, I'm tired.

Tired of having to do everything and not getting nearly enough done. I need help. Yeah, I have able bodied children who can and do help, but that's not the kind of help I'm talking about.

I need someone (who I will call a HUSBAND because that is truly what I want) who will walk beside me on this journey and pick up the things that are too heavy for me. No, I'm not talking "actual" things...I'm just talking about someone who can step in when I am THIS tired and lighten my load, mentally and physically.

Maybe it would be with loving words, or a loving touch, or just to hold me and tell me to be still. Being still is so foreign to me. I would love the chance to BE...I just don't know how. There's too much to do.

So as I've said before in a Facebook post, the older I get, the more I realize that life is not meant to be lived alone. Maybe it is for some, but most definitely NOT for ME. I meant that when I posted it and I mean it still. I will continue to mean it until I have someone to call my HUSBAND. Someone to walk with me and help me along this ever so tiring journey.

I don't doubt that my dreams will eventually come true, but it sure would be nice to have someone with me as I journey there, and have that same someone with me when I finally arrive.

So yeah, I'm just gonna go ahead and say it, "two are better than one."

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it! Now, how's THAT for transparency? Some posts are fun, and some (like this one) dig right into the core of how I'm feeling. Hope you can handle that.

Let the DIALOGUE begin!: Are you traveling along life's journey alone? If so, is it by choice?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Life as a Postcard?!?

Tonight's post is weird. Just weird. I don't get it. But I said that I was gonna give all 642 topics a try, and this just happened to be the one that came up for today. So...here goes. Tonight's task is to "Write a life as a series of postcards." What the?!?

All that I can come up with is, GREETINGS from the Golden State...CALIFORNIA. Wish you were here!

Yep...that's all I got. Hopefully YOU have something better.

Let the DIALOGUE begin! Write a life as a series of postcards.

I'm sure that you'll do better that I did.

Talk to me!

Til next time...

My Voice in Words

For as long as I can remember I have LOVED to write.

As a young girl at the age of 7, I would write stories for my #1 Fan, my best friend...my Grammy. No matter how uninteresting or non-nonsensical the stories were, she would ALWAYS encourage me and tell me to keep writing.

I still remember the day when I walked into her kitchen and there on the table was a typewriter...for me. I was only 7!!!

She gave it to me so that I could type my little heart away writing books.

Well I typed, and typed, and typed some more. To this day I can not tell you what ever happened to that typewriter, and I have yet to finish even ONE book. But that memory remains and so...I've got to get to it.

WHY DO I WRITE?

I write because writing is the only time that my voice is truly heard.

People do not, nor have ever fully listened to me when I speak. There's usually and interjection, or a rebuttal, or just total disinterest altogether. People just don't hear me. And it's not about the volume of my words, it's just me. People don't hear me.

Writing however, has ALWAYS allowed my voice to come over LOUD AND CLEAR. I've written many letters in my day and never once has anyone ever asked, "What did that mean?"

In writing, my thoughts are very clearly conveyed and are delivered without interruption.

So yes, I write to be heard.

I realize that I am not the best writer in terms of style or grammar, I never remember whether or not the punctuation marks go inside or outside of the quotation marks, and frankly...I don't care. I am not perfect and neither is my writing.

I also recognize the fact that I over-use commas. And again, I don't really care. This is me and if I've got to be stressed out over commas and quotation marks then that takes my joy out of writing. I choose to keep the joy.

Oh, and let's not forget the Ellipsis, you know, the...that I use ALL the time. Yep...I'm keepin' that too. I probably use it way more than necessary but when I write I hear the need for it in my head, so I use it...a LOT.

I also write because it's therapeutic (and much cheaper than therapy). When there's no one else to talk to I just pour everything out on paper. Sometimes I tear the paper up the moment the last sentence is completed. Other times I've kept the words for years only to go back and THEN tear them up.

Writing is my outlet.

Some people drink, others do drugs, and who knows what else to relieve the stresses of this life. Me, I write.

This blog (although neglected at times) has been my friend. Always here when I need to purge. Sometimes it's lonely, just me & my blog, because it was intended to be shared with many. A DIALOGUE, but most days feeling like a MONOLOGUE. I won't lie. It's quite disappointing asking folks to support me in my writing efforts and they don't, but I am ever so thankful for the ones who do. It is for YOU that I continue to write as much as it is for myself.

Yes, I AM A WRITER with my OWN style. Afterall, no two people in the world are exactly alike...why should all writers be?

Now it's YOUR turn. Let the DIALOGUE begin: Do you write? If so, why?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

***
This is post #7 inspired by the book "642 Things to Write About" and this will be the LAST time I add this little addendum at the end of the post. Going forward, if you see the post labeled as "642" then you'll know that it was inspired by the book.

What's she doing???

On March 1st of this year I got what's called "The Big Chop." That means that I went to the barber shop, hopped in the chair and told the barber to take it all off. He did.

My hair wasn't even an inch long after the chop. It may have been 1/4 of an inch long, but not much longer than that.

Now we fast forward 4 months.

My hair has grown. It's at least an inch long, probably longer. And it's what I call "kinky-coily". Not really curly, but a cross between kinky and coily.

This texture has caused me to form a bad habit. I am CONSTANTLY uncoiling the kinks. CONSTANTLY. I do this so much I think I may have created a bald patch right smack dab in the middle of my head. That is where my hair is the kinkiest-coiliest. A completely different texture from the rest of my hair. Weird!

The hair at the back and toward the nape of my neck is very soft and more of a coily-curly texture. Toward the front, the hair is like sheep's wool. And that patch in the middle has gone completely back to Africa!

So...I find myself uncoiling the kinks when I'm waiting for a light to change, when I'm at my desk making calls, and when I'm just sittin' at home on the couch chillin'.

It's a bad habit for two reasons. One, because I'm creating that bald patch, and two, because I must look ridiculous to those who catch me doing it.

I do it because it's a stress reliever. When I'm uncoiling my kinks I completely zone out. It's like smoking a cigarette or sippin' on a drink. Just calming.

I imagine I'll stop once I go back to straightening my hair again, which won't be until March 1, 2014. There's a lot of uncoiliing to do between now and then ;-)

Now...Let the DIALOGUE begin: Describe one of your bad habits and why you secretly get joy out of it.

Talk to me

!

Til next time...

***Post# 6 inspired by the book "642 Things to Write About" ***

Esperanza Bridge

***Read all the way through to the end***

"Come ye disconsolate, where’re ye languish your mind..."

Those were the words that Francis heard the choir singing as she stepped inside the doors of the church for what was the 1st time in 30 years.

She wasn’t even sure how she'd ended up there. Life for Francis lately had become a blur. One day blurred right into the next. She hadn’t been living, she’d only been functioning. Not much of an existence there, Francis thought.

And on more than one occasion, she’d thought about giving up on existing altogether. Just didn’t see the point anymore.

The life that Francis was living was far from the life she’d planned.

She’d never been married (not by choice).

She’d never had any children (not by choice either, she was simply waiting for the right order which meant having a husband first).

She lived in a small studio apartment, by herself. Couldn’t even have a pet because the property management company wouldn’t allow it.

She had a job that was just that…a “j-o-b”. Nothing thrilling about it. Nothing lifechanging , neither for herself nor her company’s clients.

She knew that she was created for more and just couldn't find a way to get there.

Life had gotten in the way of Francis’ dreams and goals. Life was suffocating Francis. Life, didn’t seem to be much of a friend. So she decided to end the friendship.

“Who will even miss me when I’m gone? If anyone really cared, they’d be here. Life wasn’t meant to be lived alone and since I’m alone and probably will continue to be, then why bother with living.”

Francis had made the ultimate decision to leave this life that had been so unkind to her. Today was going to be the day.

She stepped out of her front door, felt the heat of the sun against her face and for a brief moment, actually smiled. It was as though the sun was giving her one last hug, knowing that it would never shine on her face again.

She started walking toward the Esparanza Bridge. Not nervous. Not distraught. Focused.

These were the last 8 blocks she would ever walk. No turning back now. She put one foot in front of the other and off she went.

Along the first block she passed by Gionelli's, her favorite restaurant.
Block number two, the elementary school that she had attended as a young girl.
Along block number three was the museum where Francis spent countless hours admiring the lovely oil paintings, sketches, and sculptures.
Block four was where she spent her childhood. The home where her family used to live was on this block.
As soon as she crossed the street to block number five she could smell the freshly cut flowers displayed outside of her favorite flower shop.
Block number six contained the market where she shopped. So convenient and the walk was always a great way to get in some exercise.

And then...block number seven. Just one block away from what would be the last.
As soon as she stepped foot on block number seven, she heard those words resounding from the church. "Come ye disconsolate, where’re ye languish your mind..." It was as if the choir was singing just for her...only TO her.

"Come ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish your mind.
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel;
here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish,
earth, oh, has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal..."

At that moment she realized that her journey was over. No, not her life's journey, but the journey to end her life. She stepped inside the church doors and let the words of the song pierce her heart, her "saddened, lonely, been hurt too many times by too many people" heart. What seemed to be an endless stream of tears flowed down her face. And as she sat there in her seat a woman came over, didn't say a word, and just placed her arm around Francis. A loving, caring arm. A gesture that said, "you're not alone. Someone DOES care."

Many times that's the difference between whether someone feels that this life is worth living, or if they decide to give it all up. Most times, someone just needs to know that somebody else CARES.

***
Phew! That was another toughy. My 5th post inspired by the book "642 Things to Write About" Another creative challenge that I had to take head on. The instructions were: Put you iPod on random shuffle, write down the lyric of the first song that comes on, and use it as an opening line.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: How'd I do? Did you think Francis wasn't gonna make it? How 'bout YOU give it a try and let me know what you come up with for the first song that comes up in YOUR shuffle.

Talk to me!

Til next time.

What just happened?

How 'bout that. Something just happened and you missed it.
Hey, something else just happened and you missed it again.

Yes, in the second between that first and last sentence something happened. What exactly? I couldn't tell you. What I will do is answer today's topic from "642 Things to Write About" which is: What can happen in a second

I'm a person who likes to do things in 7s, so I will list 7 things that can happen in a second.

1. Blink our eyes
2. Win or lose a close race
3. An accident

4. Power outage
5. Death
6. Make a decision
7. This is my FAVORITE. We can be "raptured", "caught up" whatever you wanna call it...to meet Jesus when He comes back for His believers. THAT will be the BEST second of my LIFE!

Now it's YOUR turn. Let the DIALOGUE begin: You don't have to list 7, but how 'bout you list 1. What can happen in a second?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Creatively Challenged

It was a smoldering 98 degrees in Beauteria. Too hot to stay inside without A/C and too hot to be outside unless you were in the water.

Le-A (pronounced Le-dash-uh) decided to venture out and take a dip in Lake Noentres.

She put on her swim gear and headed out into the blazing heat. So hot that it almost blew her right back inside. Almost.

She hopped in her car, cranked up the tunes and made her way to Lake Noentres.

When she arrived she was oddly surprised to find that on such a scorching hot day as this, there was no one else at the lake.

“Sweet! I’ve got the place all to myself.”

She started toward the water and once she got there realized that she had her glasses on. She didn’t want to get in with them for fear that they may slip off of her face. Her glasses were her eyes. Without ‘em, she couldn’t see a thing. And because of a medical eye condition, she couldn’t wear contacts. Just one of life’s little inconveniences.

Since she was the only one there she thought it was safe enough to leave the glasses on a nearby tree branch. Close enough that she didn’t have to go all the way back to the car, and far enough away from the water.

So she left the glasses and very cautiously headed back toward the water.

She stuck her toe in, then a foot, and before she knew it she was up to her neck in water. So refreshing on such a blistering hot day. Coming to Lake Noentres was definitely a good choice. Or was it?

Time passed, and then some more. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out in the water. And then…she heard something. She looked around and couldn’t make out a dog-gon thing. Her glasses were on that branch that now seemed miles away.

She heard another noise. This one louder than the first, and closer.

She squinted, trying her best to make out whatever it was.

Was it a dog? She couldn't tell. Seemed bigger than a dog though.
An alligator?
Not likely. This is Beauteria. Not many alligators roaming around there.
A bear?
Could've been. Seemed tall enough.

Panic began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice after all.

Noises got louder and NOW there was something IN the water with her. Le-A started freaking out. Splashing frantically trying to get away. But from what? Whatever it was, splashed even louder, and was coming closer. The ominous figure was halfway between the water’s edge and where she was in the water. It was coming right at her!

Le-A was beginning to realize why nobody else was at the lake. It wasn’t safe. Apparently everybody else knew this. She obviously didn’t get the memo.

Without her glasses she couldn't make out which way to go or what to do. She was stuck. And it (whatever "it" was) was quickly approaching.

She decided that her only chance of escape would be to go UNDER the water, out of sight of whatever was coming toward her. And then what?

Where would she go if she couldn't see in front of her?

She had to try.

Le-A took a deep breath and just as she was about to go under, she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. That voice belonged to Lamar, her next door neighbor.

"Woman, what are you doin' out here all by yourself? You know that's not safe! What if somethin' happened to you? And what are you doin' out here without your glasses on? Leavin' em in a tree for who knows what to get. You know you can't see without your glasses. Follow me and let's get outta here. It's hot!"

***

Okay. So that was my 3rd post inspired by the book "642 Things to Write About". Really LOVING this book! Today's topic was: Your character is swimming in a lake, not wearing her glasses. She squints at a shape coming toward her in the water. What does she think she sees?

This was challenging for me because I typically write from experiences or opinion, not creatively. This forced be creative and I'm glad that I took it on.

Now Let the DIALOGUE begin: How did I do? Was it suspenseful? Were you hoping that she'd get eaten up by something?

Talk to me!

Til next time.

And the Winner is...

The year was 1980. The month was May. The day, a Friday afternoon.

As we were being dismissed from school I asked my friend Monique what she was doing for the weekend. She told me that she was going to see a movie.

“Which one?”, I asked.

“Fang.”

“Fang? I’ve never heard of that. Is it scary?”

“Not Fang. FAME. It’s about some kids who sing and dance at a school."

“Ohh. That sounds GOOD.”

***

I was eleven years old and had no idea then that I had just been introduced to the film that would become my favorite.

I don’t remember who took me to see it. It was rated "R" so somebody must’ve, unless I snuck in. Knowing me...I didn’t sneak in.

Watching Fame was like seeing MYSELF on screen. I WAS COCO! Just a girl wanting to share her talents with the world. Yes! She was me…I was her.
Even at the age of eleven I wanted to be a star. I sang in high school and loved every performance. I was the soloist at my high school graduation and was this close to going to Berklee College of Music. Yes folks, I wanted to be a star. Thirty four years later, I still do. Not so much now in the sense of performing on stage, but in the sense that I want to leave my mark on the world.

Although Coco was my favorite character, Leroy Johnson and Ms. Lydia Grant ranked pretty high as well.

I loved the way that Leroy was introduced to us.
He was just at the audition to be the dance partner for his friend who was the actual auditionee. Once Leroy got movin’ though, he danced circles around his friend. Totally outshined her. In the words of Ms. Lydia Grant, he was “wicked” (or at least his dancing was). And in his own words, “ I's young, I's single, and I loves to mingle! .” Yes sir, I loved me some Leroy!

As for Ms. Grant, she was a “no nonsense” kind of teacher who pushed until she got the very best out of her students. She made it plain, “ You've got big dreams. You want fame. Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying: in sweat.”

I feel like I’ve been sweating all my life. Not so much physically, but in many other ways. Yes, my dreams are big and I deposit a little more into them each day. One day all of this sweat will pay off. I have to keep believing that otherise I'll quit, and quitting is simply NOT an option.

Now for anyone who knows me AT ALL, this next part will come as no surprise. I LOVED the singing in Fame. I’m sure that if you asked, I could belt out any of the tunes, but my top 3 favorite songs are:

Out Here on My Own

Hot Lunch Jam

and

I Sing The Body Electric

When those three come on…watch out, ‘cause it’s ON!

So there you have it. Fame. My favorite film.

What I find most interesting is that Fame is technically a musical, and I typically hate watching musicals on screen. Moulin Rouge…didn’t like it. Chicago…didn’t like it. Les Miserable…won’t even see it on film because I already know…I won’t like it. I enjoy musicals best when performed LIVE on stage. Somehow, Fame is my only exception. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen it. There've been too many to count. What I can tell you is that anytime it comes on TV, I watch. And I love it, EVERY time.

"Sometimes I wonder where I've been
Who I am
Do I fit in.
Make believin' is hard alone,
Out here on my own

We're always provin' who we are
Always reachin' for the risin' star
To guide me far
And shine me home
Out here on my own..."

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: What is YOUR favorite film?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

x+y=?

Today's post is the first of 642 posts that I'll be sharing here in The Dialogue Den. All will be inspired by the FABULOUS book I received yesterday from my BFF Judy. The book is titled, "642 Things To Write About". Enjoy!
***

Write down everything you can remember about your algebra teacher

Mr. Yamaguchi.

I’d like to say that his first name was Ken, but I’m not 100% sure. The last name though, I know that’s correct. He was my algebra teacher at Banning High. A very kind and patient man. Slender and about 50 years old.

Algebra was my 1st period class and I was habitually tardy. I rode the city bus to school so if I missed the bus, or if it was too full and passed me up, I’d be late. Eventually I would arrive and rush upstairs to his class. I sat in the 2nd row from the door, last seat in the back. As soon as I’d sit down he would greet me with, “You’re late.” I couldn't even respond. I would simply scramble to find out what page we were on and try to catch up.

I’ve always struggled with math and really enjoyed him as a teacher because he would go over a problem as many times as needed until we “got it.”
He really loved math. It not only showed in the fact that he was so patient, but also in the fact that his son chose to follow in his footsteps and became a math teacher at the same high school.

Mr. Yamaguchi.

That’s all I remember but considering the fact that this memory is over two decades old, I’d say I did pretty well.

Now it’s YOUR turn.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: Write down everything YOU can remember about your algebra teacher.

Talk to me!

Til next time…

It's MY Birthday and I'll do what I want to!

Yes folks, today is my birthday. And a wonderful birthday it has been!

It began with church service where my best friend (of 36 years) attended because that was my special birthday request. No,church isn't her thing, but for ONE day out of the year she was willing to do something that's not her thing, because it is MY thing.
Seeing her there made me happy. And that happiness superceded the disappointment that I felt over the fact that my other best friend (of 33 years)was not there. No, church isn't her thing either, but for me, you'd've thunk she would make an exception. And maybe she would have if it weren't for the 15 mile bike ride that we were originally going to do to celebrate my day.

Yes, I was excited about the ride. Yes, she registered and paid for it. And yes, I let her know that we weren't going to be doing the ride afterall because I would rather be at church. Yes...church is where I wanted to be on MY birthday.

So I send the first text letting her know about the cancellation. Crickets. No reply.
I send a 2nd text to make sure that she got the 1st. Crickets again.
Ok...I guess you're mad.
I didn't call because I hate confrontation and I hate having people over talk me without letting me get my point out. So...my preferred method of communication in situations like theses is a letter. And that's what I did.

I wrote her a letter and enclosed a check to reimburse her for the registration fee. You'd think that would settle the issue. Well...apparently not. She hasn't responded to my letter nor did she wish me a happy birthday.
First time in 33 years. I guess it's like they say...there's a first time for everything.

So...who knows? Is this the end of a 33 year friendship? I would hope not, but the ball is clearly in her court. I gotta admit, I'm baffled by the whole thing. I mean really! I could understand if I were messin' around with her man, or lied to her, or did something MAJOR like that. But change MY plans for MY birthday, and for THAT she's angry?!? I just don't get it.

But I'm at a point in my life where I can't worry about it. I can't change her heart or mind. After 45 years I have been "thrown away" by so many people that being "thrown away" by one more won't really make a difference. No, I never thought that SHE of all people would through me away, but maybe my shelf life of friendship was up. Who really knows? Until she begins talking to me again (if she ever does), I'll never know.

And please, don't tell me to "be the bigger person" and CALL her. I have been the "bigger person" for 45 years, asking people to "come back" over stuff that wasn't even my fault. I'm tired! Either I have value, or I don't. That's it. That's all.

So, as the title of the post says, "It's MY Birthday and I'll do what I want to!" I've done what I wanted and I've had a fabulous 45th birthday!

Let the DIALOGUE begin

: Have you ever lost a friendship because you changed YOUR birthday plans?

Talk to me!

Til next time...