For Here or To Go?

Growing up in Southern California, I have become an expert at Mexican food. Tacos, Enchiladas, Tostadas, Burritos, Tamales...you name it...I LOVE IT!

I probably eat Mexican food more than any other cuisine. That's a bit of a shame when you consider the fact that I am a Black woman and know more about Mexican cuisine than I do about that of my own culture.

When it comes to "Southern food" I guess you could say I do all right. My kids LOVE my fried chicken, which I make about twice a year. My collard greens are pretty tasty. My mac and cheese is AMAZING, but I only make it on Thanksgiving...and thanks to "Joe", I recently learned how to make "melt in your mouth oxtails." He LOVES oxtails! The first time I made them for him, they ended up being more of a stew. That wasn't quite what I was going for, nor what he was used to.

Oh, but when my friend's Mom offered to teach me how to make them "the right way"...he devoured them, and rightfully so. Those things were GOOD!!! I've made them a few times now and they consistently come out DELICIOUS.

Now if I had to make authentic African cuisine, I would simply have to hang my head in shame. I know NOTHING about African cuisine...absolutely NOTHING. Perhaps I should start dining at some of the local African eateries. I'm sure there are some in Little Ethiopia which would be a great start, however, I'd ultimately like to try a variety of African cuisine. I'd better get on that.

So, as I was saying...I'm pretty much an expert when it comes to Mexican food.

Well a couple weeks ago my youngest daughter introduced me to pupusas (shown in the pic). I've lived in my neighborhood for at least seven years and have driven by the local Pupuseria a number of times. Never thought to go in because I didn't know what a pupusa was, nor was I interested.

When my daughter told me about them I decided to swing by and give one a try. Can I say...YUM!

I bought two "queso y frijol" and they were delicious. I'm still not 100% sure about what to do with the tomato sauce that comes on the side. To me, it doesn't have any flavor, but I pour it over the pupusas anyway.

Then there's the curtido (fermented cabbage). Reminds me of kimchi, but not as spicy and it has more of a "slaw" consistency. It comes with the pupusas, and it's good too.

So the past couple times I've gone, I've placed my order "to go." My pupusas come wrapped in foil and the curtido is in a baggie.

Today, I decided to dine in. Oh how I wish that I hadn't.

I ordered my pupusas and went to have a seat. I noticed on many of the tables, the curtido was already out in plastic containers. I thought that was a bit odd.

I purposefully sat at a table that did not have any container of cabbage, with the hopes that MY curtido would come with the pupusas. Well...so much for my plan. No sooner than I sit down, the waitress grabs the container from the table behind me and places it on MY table. It's like a "help yourself" kinda situation. Now you KNOW...the germophobe in me was about to have a coronary. Was I really expected to eat the curtido after God-knows-who had already handled it?!? Ugh!!!

My pupusas arrived and they looked sooo lonely. I can hardly believe what I did next...YES...I stuck the tongs inside the container and scooped out some cabbage from the bottom...hoping that that would be the safest. It tasted the same as when I get it in the baggie, but my germophobic mind was all over the place. Kinda hampered my dining experience a bit.

Will today's experience stop me from going back? Nope.

I will now simply place my orders to go so that I can have the curtido from the kitchen versus the dining tables. That's an easy enough fix...I think.

Oh, and for those wondering, "What the heck is a pupusa?", here's Wikipedia's definition:
"A pupusa (Spanish pronunciation: [puˈpusa], from Pipil pupusaw) is a traditional Salvadoran dish made of a thick, handmade corn tortilla (made using masa de maíz, a cornmeal dough used in Mesoamerican cuisine) that is usually filled with a blend of the following:

cheese (queso, usually a soft cheese called quesillo found throughout Central America)
cooked and seasoned pork meat ground to a paste consistency (called chicharrón, not to be confused with fried pork rind, which is also known as chicharrón in some other countries)
refried beans (frijoles refritos), or queso con loroco (loroco is a vine flower bud from Central America)."

Now...Let the DIALOGUE begin: What's YOUR favorite ethnic cuisine...and have you ever had a pupusa?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

If It Ain't Broke...

I've worked at my current job for almost nine months now.

During this time I've gotten pretty familiar with my office building. One thing that I am quite familiar with is the door that leads to the hallway, which leads to the bathroom and kitchen.

I've opened and closed this door MANY times. No problem.

Last Monday I went to open it and almost needed help. I gave it a strong tug, and eventually it opened. It had never been that difficult to open before. I thought that someone may need to come take a look at it.

After struggling with it a few more times, I realized that the new need to pull on the door was a result of it being "fixed." Apparently, the door had been "broken" all this time.

Yes, I knew that we had to be careful when closing it because it could potentially SLAM, but other than that, the door worked fine. What I now know is that the door was missing a spring that would allow it to automatically close after opening, eliminating the potential to SLAM. So technically, the new "harder to open" door, is actually as it should have been all along.

Of course, that made me think about human behavior and how so many of us have lived lives of dysfunction, that when "functional" presents itself, we often don't know how to accept it.

Perhaps as a child, one grew up in a home where there was always arguing and bickering. When that child gets older, being in a environment where the situation is calm may seem foreign and difficult to accept.

Maybe as a child, one grew up always having to struggle and fend for themselves. When that child gets older, being in an environment where people genuinely offer to help...that child may become suspicious of such kindness because it's foreign and unfamiliar.

There may be a man or woman who has been in so many relationships that have ended in abuse, hurt, disrespect, shame, etc...that when someone new comes along and genuinely wants to LOVE that individual in a manner that healthy couples do...the previously hurt man or woman may opt out of the healthy new relationship because they've not learned how to accept such kindness.

So you see...much like the door that I thought worked fine all along, until it was "fixed," many of us won't be aware of the brokenness in our lives until someone or something comes along to repair it. Kinda interesting when you really think about it.

Now...Let the Dialogue begin: Is there anything in your life that could potentially be broken and you just haven't realized it yet. Think about it. Is EVERYTHING functioning as it should be?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Stick It To Me!

A few months ago I was suffering from excruciating back pain. Nothing I did seemed to bring any relief. I took over the counter pain meds like they were Skittles. Nada.

It finally got so bad I decided that I needed to see a medical professional.

Before calling my primary care physician to make an appointment, I decided to first give something new a try. I made an appointment to have acupuncture. Most folks avoid acupuncture because of the needles. After having three babies, and donating blood as many times as I have...needles don't bother me a bit. And...acupuncture needles are SUPER TINY, so those REALLY don't bother me.

I had my first session back in October and felt relief...almost instantly. The acupuncturist suggested that I come back the following week for another treatment. I did just that and again, felt relief. The pain was GONE...until this week.

Yes, months later the pain returned in full effect.

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, it hurt so badly, I could hardly bend over to tie my shoes. And when I got to work, climbing the 22 steps to get to my desk was almost unbearable. My back was ON FIRE. Sitting for hours only made it worse.

I finally couldn't take the pain anymore and call the acupuncturist. Asked what time slots he had available and after work I headed right over.

As he stuck the needles in me, he commented on how tight my back was. Yep, it was tight alright. And to my surprise, I was very "jumpy." On the previous visits he stuck in pin after pin and I never moved. Yesterday, I flinched with every one. Not because I could feel them, but because my body was startled every time he touched me...almost as though my body has forgotten HOW to be touched. Now that's a dag-gon shame!

Anyhoo...he finally got them all in, turned on the electro-machine, applied some heat, and left me in the room to listen to ocean waves as I dozed off. He popped in once to make sure I was ok (I was until he woke me up), then popped out again for about ten more minutes. He came back in, removed the pins, rubbed some lotion on my back that felt like warm Bengay and I was set. Walked out of that place without a single ache, and when I woke up this morning, I popped right outta bed, got dressed, had no problems with my shoes, nor the stairs at work.

I'm sure that at some point I will need to get to the cause of my back pain. Not sure if I should do that NOW while the pain is GONE, or if I should wait until it comes back.

One thing I do know is that ACUPUNCTURE IS AMAZING and if you have any aches or pains, I would highly recommend giving it a try.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: I may have asked this before, but I'll ask again...Have YOU ever tried acupuncture? If so, how did it work out for you?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!!!

So a couple days ago I wrote about how I pick up discarded Lotto Scratchers when I go on my neighborhood walks. I pick them up to be entered into the "2nd chance" drawing. One of them will win one day...I just know it!

So the other day I found the one that's pictured here. It was torn into three pieces. I still picked it up!

Brought it home and went to enter the code. On my first attempt I received an error message that advised me to check the numbers or...the card may be a winner.

I checked the numbers.

Entered the code again.

Got the same error message.

How odd. I'd never had that happen before.

So I took a closer look at the card and realized that whoever its original owner was didn't completely scratch off all the numbers before they decided that the card was a "loser" and decided to toss it.

Well I took a closer look and discovered that it was in fact a WINNER.

Just like that, I was five dollars richer than I had been 10 seconds before. Cool!

Now I wasn't sure if the store would redeem my winning ticket since it wasn't in tact, but figured I didn't have anything to lose by trying.

So I get to the store, hand in my ticket, and the clerk said, "It won't go through." I asked him to try. He gave me the "side-eye" and took it to the machine. Two seconds later he says, "You won ten dollars." WHAT?!?

Ten dollars?!? I thought the ticket was only a five dollar winner. SWEEET!!!

At that moment, I was reassured that I haven't been crazy by picking up these icky tickets from sidewalks, curbs and parking lots. And once again I was reminded that "one man's trash is another man's treasure." The same can be said for relationships. A man may leave a woman because she doesn't meet his standards, and another man will come along and see that she's everything he's ever wanted. Funny how life works.

Now Let the DIALOGUE begin: For the Lotto players out there...do you prefer Scratchers, or the daily games?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Coffee, Tea, and...

So it's been a little over a month since my trip to New Orleans. Man, I can hardly wait to go back!

I still have LOTS to write about my time there and tonight I'm going to take a little time to do just that.

***

Saturday night I hung out at my favorite Starbucks in L.A.

It's the one where I met "Joe" thirteen years ago, and every now and then I go because it simply brings back so many special memories. I also love the vibe. Good music playing and intellectual Black folks fill up the place. There aren't too many Starbucks that I've been to that have those elements. For this reason, I drive 14 miles just to be in that environment. Love it!

Although I'm not much of a coffee drinker (except for one cup a day at work), I do drink a lot of tea. That's what I typically get at Starbucks.

While I was in New Orleans, I got very acquainted with the nearby Starbucks on Canal and Royal. Not so much because of the coffee or tea, but because of the clean public restroom and outlets for me to charge my phone.

One day while charging my phone and sipping on the boxed apple juice that I'd purchased, I sat back and enjoyed the music being piped through the speakers. It didn't take long for me to realize that this particular Starbucks had vibe of its own, not exactly like my favorite one here in L.A., but one that made me wanna hang out for a bit.

So as I sat there chillin', I heard the live version of Erykah Badu's "Tyrone" come on. Now I've heard the song a number of times, so I am very aware of the fact that at the very beginning she comes right out and says, "I'm gettin' tired of your shyt..."

The song is blaring, and she's about to start singing. I'm wondering if they're gonna bleep the word out. Well, as I continued to listen I quickly learned that the song would be played IN ITS ENTIRETY...profanity and all. I wasn't bothered by it, and simply thought, "Well alrighty then. That's the way things are done here."

I sat and enjoyed the song...listened to it come to an end, and do you know...they played that song AGAIN!!! Back to back!

At that point I was convinced...this wasn't Kansas, and this IS how things are done in New Orleans. Cool!

Suffice it to say...I now have a second favorite Starbucks.

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Are you a regular Starbucks goer? If so, do you have a favorite. If so, which one?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Here's the song. If profanity offends you, I thank you for reading today's post and you may want to stop here.

Sunday Visits

***This one's kinda long. You've been warned.*** :-)

I have been a member of my current church for the past 23 years.

I don't remember the exact day that I first visited, but I do remember (like it was yesterday) the events that led me to my current church.

I had already been a member of a different church, Revival Time Church of God in Christ. One Sunday morning, as usual, I got my daughter Lauren, and myself ready, hopped in the car and headed to service.

Lauren may have been 2 years old at the time.

We arrived at the church, I unfastened her from her car seat and we headed inside.

Before we got to the door, I had a prompting in my spirit that said, "Get back in the car. You won't be worshipping here today."

That was odd, and I didn't understand what was going on. But the command was so clear, I chose to be obedient.

So I secured Lauren back in her seat, got in, started the car and asked, "Lord, where am I supposed to go?"

The answer, "Drive, and I'll tell you when to stop."

So I drove down the street for about ten minutes, not knowing WHERE I was going. Then, "Here. This is where you will worship today."

I was too far down the street to even see the name of the church I was going into. Parking went down the entire block. I just knew that at the end of the block there was a church. I got Lauren out, either carried her on my hip or held her tiny little hand (it was so long ago I really can't remember) and we headed inside to what I discovered was Doublerock Missionary Baptist Church.

We returned Sunday after Sunday, and all these years later, we are still members. Although the church has since moved, and now has new name, it is still our "church home."

It's a great church, lead by God first and foremost, whose message is delivered through our fantastic Teaching-Pastor. I have learned (and continue to learn) so much under this man's teaching and preaching. An example of that is in the way that I now attend service for different reasons than I did in the beginning.

I cringe to even say the following words, but they are the truth, and thankfully I've grown since this time, so...I'll go ahead and say it.

In the beginning of my spiritual walk, I went to church for the MUSIC. Our church had one of the BEST choirs in the city. My my my!!! They were "off da chain" as was the phrase back then.

Although I'd stay for the message, it was always the MUSIC that got my attention. I made sure to be on time for church so that I wouldn't miss any part of "Praise and Worship."

After all that great singing, the message just seemed dry and without any "umph."

Over the years, my spiritual "likes" changed. I didn't care nearly as much about the singing, and had begun to time my church arrival until AFTER "Praise and Worship" was over. I would arrive just before the message was to be delivered, because all I cared about at that time, was the Word.

Awful...I know.

Oh, but God!

I'm sure that there were many-a-Sunday when God would just watch me and shake His head. Thankfully though, like clay on the potter's wheel...He kept shaping and re-shaping me until I began to look and behave the way that He intended with regard to worship.

One day I finally realized that Praise, Worship and the Word ALL go together. They are all a vital part of the service. I needed to arrive at church ON TIME for ALL of it. Now, I do.

After having said all that, we move to "present day" and what I have tagged as my "Season of Visitation." The interesting thing is that I don't know how long this "season" is going to last. Only God knows.

As I said earlier, I have been a member of my current church for 23 years. And I am under the direction of EXCELLENT Bible-Based preaching and teaching. Even with all of that though, for the past two years (maybe longer), I have had a prompting in my spirit to VISIT other churches. I was reluctant to do so because my Pastor has often cautioned against "eating from too many spiritual tables" as one may end up with "spiritual diarrhea." For that reason, I stayed put.

But there is SOMETHING about the Holy Spirit. When He wants you to do something, He will continue to poke and prod until you finally OBEY and follow His direction.

So after two-plus years of hemming and hawing, I finally decided to be obedient and have declared 2016 as my "Season of VISITATION". I have NO IDEA what God has in mind for me in all of this, I just know that it's what He's been wanting me to do, and as I do so, I believe that He will eventually reveal to me what the purpose is in all of it.

I haven't visited too many churches yet, but the three that I have gone to have provided me with wonderful experiences.

When I visit, I go with these things in mind:

Is the presence of God in this place?
I know that may sound like a difficult question to answer, but all I can say is...I've been in services where I knew without a doubt that the presence of God was there, and I've been in others where God was no where to be found, and wouldn't come near the place with a ten foot poll. You can tell...really, you can.

Is this a Bible-believing church, and is the Bible where the message is coming from?
I understand that a lot of preachers are great story-tellers, and they will often tell a story that will lead into the biblical message. I get that, and think it's great. What raises my antennae are preachers who ONLY tell stories and NEVER open the Word of God. For me, that's a "red flag."

How welcomed do the members make me feel?
At my church, I know how important it is to our Pastor that we make visitors feel welcomed, and after the "meet and greet" portion of our service, he actually asks our visitors if they had been made to feel welcomed. He also follows with, "If anyone made you feel unwelcomed, I wanna know." And he means it!

I understand that it may be a bit easier to be greeted personally in a smaller church -- I have a few large churches on my list of churches to visit -- so I'm curious to see how that will go when I visit them.

So far this year I've visited the following:

City of Refuge in Gardena, CA
Carrollton Avenue Baptist Church in New Orleans, LA
and
Rhema Word Bible Church in Long Beach, CA

I have had great experiences at ALL THREE, and for different reasons.

Although this year was not my first time attending City of Refuge -- I've attended their New Year's Eve Watchnight services in the past, but added them to my list because of the option to attend evening service at 6:00 pm. Some Sundays I wanna sleep in, or do other things during the day, yet still hear a word from God. City of Refuge allows me to do just that.
It is a bible-believing church, and although they don't have a special part of the service where they acknowledge visitors (unless I've missed it along the way), I feel welcomed when I'm there. Actually, a more accurate term would be that I "feel at home" when I'm there.
I've only had one experience that I wasn't too keen about which was during "Praise and Worship" at one of the services I attended during their "Revival Week." The Praise Team leader kept referring to the Holy Spirit as "it" versus "He." Throughout the ENTIRE song, she kept saying "it." That bothered me because I know that the Holy Spirit is He, not it. As a "Praise and Worship" leader, I would've thought that she would've known that too. But hey...we're all at different places in our spiritual maturity, and I pray that one day she will come to that knowledge.

When I visited New Orleans last month I knew that attending worship service on Sunday was a MUST. Being in the city for the first time, I had NO IDEA where to go. I googled churches, even found a few within walking distance but was still unsure about where God wanted me. So I prayed on it. He finally directed me -- to a church that I had to take a taxi to -- Carrollton Avenue Baptist Church.

From the moment I walked in I was IMMEDIATELY greeted and welcomed. I took a seat and shortly thereafter we moved into "Praise and Worship." Many of the songs were familiar and some were new. I loved that.

After "Praise and Worship" it was time for the Word. Pastor Webber reminded me a lot of my own pastor in his preaching style. His message wasn't filled with a bunch of "Whoopin' and Hollerin'." Instead, I could tell that he had STUDIED in order to deliver a message that God's flock could learn and grown from.

Overall, it was a wonderful worship experience, and when I go back to New Orleans (yes...I'm going back!) I will be sure to worship there again.

Now we fast forward to the past two Sundays.

In case you've been wondering how I decide where to go -- my method is quite scientific. Okay, not really. My method is the old "pull a name out of a bowl." That's what's pictured here.

Over the past few months I've asked friends where they worship, and have added their churches to my bowl. Other times I'll see a Facebook "church check-in", and I'll add that church to my list. So the list is fluid and continues to grow.

Three Sundays ago, I pulled a name out of the bowl and was on my way. Before heading to the new church though, I headed to my own to take care of a few things. Well...the quick stop at my church resulted in me staying for the entire service. That was a-ok with me. God's plans ALWAYS go before my own. For whatever reason, God said, "Not today" that day.

Last week I decided to try again. I had a church in mind, but couldn't get ready in time to make their 9:00 service, which is the only service they have. So I went with my second draw, Rhema Word Bible Church and was able to attend their 11:00 service. What a GREAT decision! Last Sunday was Valentine's Day and we began service by singing "Love Songs" to God. It was BEAUTIFUL.

After our heartfelt serenades to God, Pastor Johnson delivered a message on "God's Love Language" which made us reflect on how we show our love to God and more importantly, how God WANTS us to show our love for Him. It's all in His word.

I enjoyed the message so much last week, along with the welcoming spirit of the congregation, that I went back THIS morning and attended the 8:00 am service. I was hoping to see a friend there who attends that church, but I don't think she was able to make it as I didn't see. The church is small enough that you can easily see who's in attendance. Overall, RWBC is a wonderful place to worship. Once I've gotten through my list of churches to visit, I may very well drop in for another service one day.

In case anyone's wondering...NO, I am NOT leaving my current church. At least that's not MY purpose for this "Season of Visitation." Although, as I said before, this is not about MY will, this is about God's will. There's a reason why He kept prompting me to do this, and I won't know what His purpose is until He reveals it to me.

Yes, I am still a faithful member of my current church, I contribute financially even when I am not in attendance, and I still serve in ministry. So this is in no way, my way of looking for another church home. I am simply moving as the Spirit leads.

Whew...that was a lot! Going forward, I will simply write about each church individually as I visit. One thing's for sure...I am excited about this journey!

Now, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Where do YOU attend church? Tell me, and you never know when I may show up. :-)

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Anywhere but Here

Today I was on the verge of a meltdown. I just wanted to get in my car and drive far away, leaving everything behind to start life anew. I NEED A FRESH START!

Three things kept me from leaving -- my kiddos. If it weren't for them, I'd be OUT. They'd be the only ones who'd miss me. They are the only ones I matter to. So THEY were my only reasons for staying.

I'm tired. Tired of being hurt by people who "say" they love me, when their actions prove the very opposite. So very tired. Emotionally and Mentally EXHAUSTED.

Instead of getting in my car and driving off, I reached out to a friend...although "friend" is an understatement. She's so much more than that. I called, and she let me pour my heart out (or at least as much of it as I could during my short 45 minute lunch break). With her, I knew that my words would be HEARD and received WITHOUT JUDGEMENT.

Before I got to say anything, she assured me that to HER, I matter. And if I were to "go away," SHE would be affected. She let me know that to HER, I have VALUE.

I almost cried after hearing those words, but I composed myself enough to tell her how I've been feeling.

I told her about "Joe" and how much his absence has negatively affected me in numerous ways.

I told her about my former "best friend" of 38 years who chose "friendship" with someone I used to date and LOVE, over her "friendship" with me.

I told her about my dad and how he's been hospitalized since November. NOVEMBER!

I could have told her so much more...but there's only so much one can say in 45 minutes.

She said many things to me that made complete sense and helped me to better understand this "lost" space that I'm in right now, but there was one very profound thing that she said which really hit home.

She told me that any ONE of those things would be a lot for an individual to handle. To handle all three at once, is OVERWHELMING for anybody. Then she said, "And with all that, you haven't even had a chance to mourn the loss of your mother." BINGO!!! At that moment, it was as if a veil had been removed and I could finally see.

She was ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!

On September 17th, 2014, my Mom was hospitalized. Eight days later she had a major amputation, was unconscious for days after that. Regained consciousness, had to learn how to do even the simplest things like swallow, was transferred to another hospital, and finally to a rehabilitation center where she was under hospice care until she finally took her last breath on November 9th, 2014.

In the middle of all this, on October 27th 2014, I started a new job. Four days into my new job I had to take an extended lunch to attend the "family meeting" at the hospital to discuss the next steps in my Mom's care. Basically, we were made aware of the fact that she wouldn't be with us much longer. After that meeting, I got in my car, and cried all the way back to my new job. Ten days later, my Mom's earthly life ended, late that Sunday night. I took the following day off -- that was a Monday, and was back at work on Tuesday. I worked everyday until the Friday before her Memorial service on November 22nd. No where in between did I have TIME to grieve the loss of my mother. My days were filled with learning my new job from 8-5, and planning my Mom's service after 5:00. Her service was on a Saturday and I was back at work on Monday. There was no "Bereavement Leave" for me.

Since my Mom's passing, my Dad's health has declined considerably. So in making sure that he is okay, again, there's been no time to really process the loss of my Mom. Then "Joe" left, and shortly thereafter,"former best friend" kicked me to the curb. It's just been blow after blow to the point that I don't feel I have any air left.

So I guess my wanting to just hop in the car and drive away, is a way of getting the TIME I need to process all of these things. Getting to a place where I can just SHUT DOWN for a week, or month, or longer...and get my bearings. At this point, all I know is that it's just too much.

Somethin's gotta give, because I am about to break.

I probably need to see a therapist, just so that I can get all of this off my chest on a regular basis. I know that I have friends who would be willing to listen, but after a while my issues will get old, and all of a sudden my calls will stop being answered, or my texts ignored. I wouldn't want to risk valuable friendships over my "issues."

I used to have an excellent therapist. She was a fellow believer in Christ which gave me a lot of comfort. I knew that her advice would'nt be some "New Age" mumbo jumbo, but that it would always come from a place of biblical foundations. At the end of our sessions, she always prayed for me. Then her daughter was due to have twins soon and off my therapist went, up north, to be closer to the family. I couldn't blame her, but I sure hated to see her go. Finding a new therapist who "gets me" the way that she did won't be easy, but perhaps I should begin a new search.

So there you have it. I am broken by all of the hurt I've had to endure over these past 17 months. All in the form of ABSENCE, one way or another. My Mom's is an EARTHLY absence. "Joe's" is an EMOTIONAL absence. The "former friend" is a SISTERLY absence in a way, because we were THAT CLOSE...or so I thought. Although my Dad is present, his FORMER SELF is absent.

As for me...I seem to lose a bit of myself with each day. Losing who I used to be -- not really sure about who I'm becoming.

I imagine that I'm a lot stronger that I've ever given myself credit for, because most folks would have crumbled by now. Although I haven't completely crumbled, I am broken...but as the picture says, "Broken crayons still color."

Let the DIALOGUE begin: When was the last time YOU had a hug? I'm talking a real, genuine, "everything's gonna be alright, and even if it isn't I'm still gonna be right here" kinda hug.


Talk to me...and if you see me, give me a hug please.

Til next time...

My Lovely Hair Garden

On March 1st, 2013 I walked into a barber shop, hopped in the barber's chair and ask him to cut my hair off...ALL of it. He did, and I walked out with about an eighth of an inch of hair all over my head -- just one step away from being completely bald.

It was a bold move, but I needed a change and hair just seemed to be the easiest way to go. If the change didn't work out, the hair would grow back and I could start over.

Well the hair did grow back, but not the way I'd expected. The texture was waaaay off and the length was different all around. My hair was having a SERIOUS identity crisis. So in July of 2014, I went to a local hair salon and asked the stylist to cut my hair down to the healthiest length. She did, and I left the salon with about half an inch of hair all around.

Fast forward to today and although I have no idea how long my hair is now, I know that it's a bit longer than half an inch, longer than one inch -- probably longer than two.

I go between wearing my hair "natural" as in "no chemicals, no heat", and wearing it "pressed", which means "no chemicals and LOTS of heat."

Although I prefer to wear my hair pressed, it really slows down my fitness efforts. I sweat a LOT and through my head. So wearing my hair pressed while working out is a waste...of time and money. So..."natural" it is, until I get to a desirable weight and don't have to work out as much as I have been.

Since I've been wearing my hair "natural" I've found myself in a bit of a "hair rut" and have decided that I need to switch things up. I've never been much of a braid or weave wearer so my switch needed to be simple, INEXPENSIVE, and something I could do myself.

After some thought, and trying out a few looks, I decided that FLOWERS were the way to go. I love 'em!

I now style my 'fro as usual, add a flower on the side, and VOILA!

I picked up three basic flowers a couple days ago, black, beige and white. Today I went on a "flower hunt" and got six (yes SIX) more! They were on sale, "Buy 3 get 3 Free," so I couldn't pass 'em up. ALL of my lovely new hair flowers are pictured here. Ain't they purrrdy? ;-)

Now it's YOUR turn...Let the DIALOGUE begin: What do you do with YOUR hair when you fall into a "hair rut?"

Talk to me...

Til next time!

2 Hours and 22 Minutes Left!

Today is February 14th and in 2 hours and 22 minutes I can officially say, "I survived Valentine's Day!" My LEAST FAVORITE Day of the year.

All week long I've been seeing Facebook posts from folks who've been excited about the events leading up to today. To all of that I've said, "Bah Humbug!"

If I had my druthers I would've slept this day away.

Thankfully, I went against my druthers, got myself dressed, visited a new church, heard a great message about God's LOVE, had lunch and dessert with my youngest daughter (she paid!), and went to visit my Dad in the hospital (where he's been since November).

I scrolled through my Facebook feed today and saw all of the romantic outings and dinners being posted -- there was even one engagement. In all honesty, I really am happy for those who have a "significant other" in their lives -- be it in the form of husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, Boo, etc.

I love LOVE and I'm encouraged to see that it still exists.

Unfortunately, it has passed me by time and time again. I refuse to give up on it though, and on its chance of finding me. I simply must believe that God is preparing the man He has for me, and He's preparing me to be ready to receive whoever it is that He has for me.

In the meantime, I shall continue to work on ME and be patient.

I won't lie and say that I don't miss "Joe", because in actuality...I do...a LOT. We talk occasionally, even see each other occasionally, but things are not at all the way they were this time last year...or even this time four months ago. So much has changed.

I pray for him daily, wishing the very best.

If it's in God's will for us to be together then so shall it be. The key words there were, "God's will." Only time will tell.

I'm sure that on this day many love songs have been played. The only song I'm feeling today is this one. I hate to be "Debbie Downer," but this is just where I am right now.



I pray that next year at this time I'll have a different song to sing.

Let the DIALOGUE begin: What's YOUR favorite love song?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

It Pays to Walk

I just returned home

from a long leisurely walk through my neighborhood. Got 3.1 miles in. Yay me!!!

Of the many different forms of exercise, walking is my favorite, and there a many neighborhoods that I enjoy walking in, for various reasons.

The streets of View Park are challenging because of the hills, yet I love looking at the homes that are filled with well-off Black folks. I'm always inspired, wondering what they've done and do to live lifestyles such as theirs, so far removed from my own.

I also enjoy strolling through the beach cities for obvious reasons. The greatest being the fact that the ocean is just feet away. The sound soothes me and if I so choose, the water rushing over me feet does as well.

Then there's my own neighborhood. Not many well-off folks to be seen here, nor do I have the soundtrack of the ocean to accompany my steps, but I've got something that I've NEVER seen in View Park or the beach cities.

I've got discarded California Lottery Scratchers! I find at least ONE every time I go walking. Today, I found all the ones that are in the pic -- TWELVE to be exact.

Most folks would say, "Who cares about a LOSING Scratcher?"

And I would answer that with, "I do!"

Each 2nd Chance Scratcher has a code. Once that code is entered that Scratcher is now in the running for a weekly draw.

Depending on how much the card was worth, "There are two weekly winners of $25,000, five weekly winners of $5,000 and twenty-five weekly winners of $1,000 for each Scratchers 2nd Chance drawing."

That's reason enough for ME to care. And the best part is that I'm getting a chance to win without spending a penny. Apparently, the folks who tossed their "losing" cards onto the street or sidewalk either aren't aware of the 2nd Chance drawing, or they just don't want to take the time to enter them.

That's perfectly fine with me. Their loss is my gain, or as I've often heard it said, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." That makes me think of relationships...at least the ones I've been in.

I know without a doubt that I am a TREASURE, yet the men I've been with haven't seen my worth and have discarded me as trash. That's alright though, because just as someone thought these Scratchers were "losers," yet I believe that there is a WINNER among them -- one day the right man will come along and see that I too am a WINNER.

Bet you've never known anyone to compare themselves to a Scratcher before, have you? Now you can say that you have. So "scratch" that off your bucket list. ;-)

Some folks my be creeped out by the fact that I actually pick these things up. After all, there's no telling WHO touched them or how long they've been out in streets. You'd think that would be an issue for me considering what I huge GERMAPHOBE I am. But no...doesn't stop me one bit, and...it's what soap and water are for, so I'm good. For a chance at winning $25,000, $5,000 or $100...having to wash my hands a couple more times a day is a small price to pay.

Now Let the DIALOGUE begin: Have you ever won anything from a Scratcher?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Frog Fur and Eye of Newt

Earlier this evening I took a little stroll through my neighborhood.

Walked to the library to drop off a book, and decided to take a different route home.

I went up a block that I don't usually travel and no sooner than I hit the block, I wondered if I'd made a good decision.

Out of nowhere came a man dressed in all black and he was walking RIGHT BEHIND ME. I looked ahead and there was no one else on this block -- just me...and HIM. I was a little unsettled because I live right by a courthouse and inmates are released IN ALL BLACK right about the time I was on my walk. So my mind (probably unnecessarily) began to race.

I didn't want to take my chances on anything "weird" happening, so I decided to walk into the very first place of business that I saw open.

I opened the door, walked in, and immediately got hit with the smell of incense, or spices, or something.

I was trying not to make it look like I had only walked in for safety reasons, so I walked around and checked out the store.

In jars along the wall were all types of roots. Some I'd heard of...most I hadn't. And books. Lots of books.

As a looked at the titles I soon realized just what kind of "store" I'd walked into...it was a witchcraft, black magic type deal. You know...the place one goes to pick up "things" for "potions."

Oh boy!

As soon as I realized what I'd walked into, I knew that I had to GET OUT.

Nothing about MY spirit belonged in THAT place.

I'm thankful that the door was open, because the guy who was walking behind me was pretty creepy, but Geez Louise...why couldn't it have been a beauty salon or something along those likes???

The experience taught me a lesson though. The lesson is this: Sometimes we don't realize what we're walking into until we're smack dab in the middle of it.

Lesson learned.

Now...Let the DIALOGUE begin: Have you ever walked into a place only to realize that you really didn't belong there?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Happy New Year (again)!

Today marks the 1st day of the Chinese New Year.

I'm not 100% sure about what the Chinese New Year is about, nor am I knowledgeable about what the different animals signify. What I do know is that I was born in the "Year of the Monkey", and this year, 2016 is again...the "Year of the Monkey."

The first time I became aware of the Chinese New Year, I was VERY pregnant with my daughter Lauren. Her dad and I were out shopping and somehow ended up in a Chinese market.

The store clerk kept pointing at me and saying, "Horse! Horse!"

I was so offended.

She didn't know me like that, and it was so very rude of her to call me a Horse. I mean...as I said earlier...I was VERY pregnant at the time, due to bust any day.

She must've been able to see the sadness on my face and she then said to me, "No, not YOU horse...BABY horse." Okay...that was it! I was ready to leave before I hurt this woman who was now calling my BABY a horse. The sadness that had just moments before been on my face was quickly replaced with anger.

Apparently my reactions were unexpected and she realized that there was a disconnect somewhere.

She found a calendar in the store and was able to convey that we were in the Chines "Year of the Horse" and my baby would be born under the horse symbol.

Okaaay! That made sense and I felt much better.

Three years later I had my youngest daughther and she was born in the "Year of the Rooster."

Five years after that came my son, born in the "Year of the Tiger." He LOVES tigers by the way. Always has.

How 'bout you?

Let the DIALOGUE begin: What Chinese year were you born in?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Yes or Maybe

With the technological advances that the internet now offers, creating and inviting folks to events has become so much easier. No longer does one have to send an invitation in the mail and then wait for a response.

Nope. Now you can create an event online, designate a specific date that folks should respond by, and it's a done deal.

Now, I'd like to share with you one of my "RSVP Pet Peeves."

Here it is.

I have noticed that folks often choose "NO" or "Not Going" as a response.

I HATE THAT!!!

My thing is this...if you are NOT going, then if you don't click on ANYTHING, that will let me know that you are NOT going.

The only RSVPs that I feel are neccessary are the ones that CONFIRM attendance, or the MAYBEs. The confirmed RSVPs give me a clear idea of who will be in attendance, and the MAYBEs let me know who to follow up with to confirm attendance. That's it. That's ALL I need to know.

Letting me know that you will NOT be attending serves me no positive purpose. It's UNCECCESARY info!

Who knows. Maybe I'm the only one who feels this way, but it irks me everytime I see it. Whether it's an event that I'M hosting, or an event that I'm attending...whenever I see the "NOs" and "NOT Goings" I just wonder, WHY?

So there you have it.

If ever I host an event and you're invited, all you have to do is let me know if you're a YES or a MAYBE. Heck, if there's a way for me to deactivae the "NO" or "Not Going" feature, you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be doing just that.


Let the DIALOGUE begin: Are you good at RSVPing, or do you just kinda "show up?"

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Pound Puppy

I've been thinking about my Mom a lot lately and on my way home yesterday another memory came to me.

I was exiting the 105 freeway at Garfield and remembered the day that I took my Mom to the nearby animal shelter to get her newest "fur baby."

A few months prior, her "best girl," "Sarah" passed away. Sarah was about 14 years old and a total "lap dog." Wherever my Mom was, there would be Sarah.

My Mom had another sweety-pooched named "Lazarus." He was about as old, and my Mom loved him just as much. There was just something special about Sarah though.

So yeah...Sarah eventually took her last breath and my Mom was HEARTBROKEN. We couldn't even SPEAK of Sarah without my Mom breaking into tears. So we tried our best not to mention her.

One day, I asked my Mom if she wanted another dog. At first she said no, because no one could ever replace her Sarah. That was understandable, yet there had to be SOMETHING that would relieve her sadness.

A few days later my Mom decided that she did want another dog. So we went online and viewed pics of adoptable doggies at the local shelters. We looked through picture after picture after picture.

Finally, my Mom saw one that caught her eye and said, "Let's go get her."

So the next day, we headed to the shelter to get my Mom's newest "fur baby."

We arrived at the shelter, went up and down the aisles peeking into the kennels until we found the one we'd come for. My Mom asked, "Is that her?"

I said, "Yep."

My Mom asked, "Why does she look different? She doesn't look like her picture."

I didn't have an answer to that one.

Then my Mom noticed that the pooch was on medication for Parvo.

Once my Mom saw that she decided that she didn't want to adopt that particular dog because she didn't want Lazarus to catch it. So...up and down we went, through the aisles once again to find a new pooch.

We spotted one.

A tiny little chihuahua (my Mom LOVED chihuahuas. ALL of her dogs had been chihuahuas). Contrary to what so many folks think, not ALL chihuahuas are "yappy." Every one that my Mom had (and she had MANY), were very sweet and loving...not "yappy" at all.

So...we asked to see the pup and got a chance to hold him. What a sweety he was, calmly laying his head on my should as if to say, "If you take me home I'll love you forever." How could we say no to that?

My Mom decided that he was the one.

She named him "Sammy", we signed the papers, and off we went.

He sat so calmly in my Mom's lap on the way home and we were sure that we'd made the right decision. Yep...that's what we thought.

We got home, carried him inside, sat him down on the floor, and like LIGHTNING...HE TOOK OFF!

He was EVERYWHERE! Moving so fast, we couldn't keep up with him.

What we very quickly discovered was that this 11 week old PUPPY was not a suitable replacement for a 13 YEAR old mature DOG.

My Mom was in over her head. Sammy was on the move ALL day, and only shut off at night for a few hours to sleep. He was exhausting. My Mom loved him, but he was exhausting. He would've been perfect for a family with small children, but not for a woman in her 60s.

Shortly after my Mom got Sammy, she had an accident that resulted in her being hospitalized, never to return home to her beloved "fur babies."

She missed them, and they missed her. Lazarus took her absence especially hard. I'd never witnessed an animal go through depression until I saw Lazarus become deeply depressed over my Mom.

He became a hermit, a recluse.

I'd go over and coax him out of his "lonely place." Would give him as much love as I could during my visits, but it didn't seem to help. He'd go right back to where he was before I arrived.

So much sadness.

Now, they're ALL gone. My Mom is in Heaven, and I have no idea where the dogs are. Both Sammy and Lazarus got loose, never to return. They've both been chipped so if anyone had found them it wouldn't be difficult to find their owners. Over a year has passed though, and that hasn't happened yet.

I've never been to Heaven, yet I sure look forward to getting there one day. When it comes to animals in Heaven, I'm not sure if they're there or not. I sure hope so though. That would let me know that my Mom is having a grand ol' time, because when it came to "fur babies," they made her happier than ANYTHING on Earth (that included her human babies). Her "fur babies" gave her joy that nothing, or no ONE else could match. That's how much she LOVED them.

By the way...Sammy is the one in the photo. Can't even begin to tell you how tough it was to get him to sit still long enough for the pic.

Now, let the DIALOGUE begin: When was the last time you visited an animal shelter? Did you adopt a pet while you were there?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Friendship Never Grows Old

A couple days ago I received a new friend request on Facebook.

I clicked to to see who it was from and almost fell out of my seat.

For YEARS, I've been wondering where two of my former classmates were. I hadn't been able to find them on Facebook and anytime I asked about them, no one had any info.

Well...I now longer have to inquire about my friend Gretchen because SHE has now found ME and thanks to FB, we have now reconnected.

I met Gretchen in the 4th grade after my family moved to a new city and I enrolled in a new school. We proceeded to attend junior high (that's what we called it back then), and high school together. Kept in touch for a short while after graduating high school, and then...nothing.

She was such a good friend back then, and she is a good friend today.

Folks often complain about Facebook and the negativity that is often displayed there, but for me...it's all GOOD.

My Facebook friends are the BEST, and they've now gotten BETTER.

Now if I could only reconnect with Dwight Sims, the other half of the duo I'd been inquiring about. He went to junior high with me, had beautiful dark chocolate skin, and an afro to beat all afros...perfectly shaped with not a hair out of place.

So if any of you know his whereabouts, holla at cha girl!

Let the DIALOGUE begin: Have you recently reconnected with anyone you'd been searching for?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Anticipation

Lately I've been feeling a bit melancholy. Can't quite put my finger on why. I thinks it's a result of many things.

*1. I miss my Mom.

**2. I'm not satisfied with what I've accomplished thus far in my life.

***3. I've made some terrible decisions regarding "Joe" that I'm trying to bounce back from.

****4. My Dad's been in hospitals and rehab centers since November.

*****5. My former best friend of 38 years has still not bothered to reach out to me to find out what she did to upset me so, which is a clear indication that she just doesn't give a rat's ass about me.

******6. My car needs a lot of work done and I can't afford to pay for any of it.

*******7. It's February -- the month where LOVE is everywhere, constantly reminding me that I am no longer loved. Yes, I know I'm loved by my friends and family (which of course, I'm thankful for). That's not the love I'm talking about.

I've prayed, but I'm kinda wondering if I should put that on hold for a while. Maybe I need to stop talking TO God and start LISTENING more (as in reading His word).

I dunno. I'm just in a funk of some sort.

Can't remember the last time I had a hug...you know, a real "everything's gonna be okay, and even if it's not, I'm gonna hug you anyway" kinda hug.

I just need to pour my heart out to someone who will listen. Not judge (although I have a whole LOT to be judged for), but just listen.

There's one friend I've been wanting to call. He's always been a great listener, and an even greater encourager. He was once a really good friend, but my relationship with Joe changed things, and nothing's the same anymore. That's a shame because he's the only person I really wanna talk to right now. God knows my heart though, so maybe he'll place me upon my friend's heart and he'll call. I really need his ear. I really do.

That's about it for now. Praying that I come out of this soon.

In the meantime, Let the DIALOGUE begin: Who do YOU call when you really need to pour your heart out?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

A pinch of this, a dab of that...

In my quest to get healthy and fit, I've had to re-think my lunch options. That pretty much means NO EATING OUT, and packing HEALTHY lunches for work. This has forced me to try some new things. My meal choices are fairly limited because for the most part, I'm a PESCATARIAN. I rarely eat chicken, beef, pork or turkey. I pretty much stick to fish, shrimp, crab, and oysters...anything that lives in water.

So for this week's lunch I decided to make tuna salad. I've never been a big fan of tuna, and when I do eat it, I'm a bit of a "tuna snob" and it has to be Albacore. Pricey? Yes. But I just don't like "chunk light."

Yesterday I made my way to the store and picked up some albacore, red onion, bellpepper, celery and spicy brown mustard. I came home and mixed that up with some garlic powder, relish and kalamata olives which surprisingly yielded a pretty tasty tuna salad.

You may have noticed that I left out in ingredient that most folks add to their tuna salad -- MAYONNAISE. I do NOT like mayonnaise...AT ALL. So I purposefully left that out.

Now I'm on a bit of a "tuna kick" and I'd love to "spice it up" a bit. Not necessarily making the tuna "spicy" because I don't like spicy food, but just experimenting with different variations of tuna salad. I already know that next time I want to add some green onion, and garlic hummus has also been suggested. There are just sooo many ways to go with this.

Here's where YOU come in...

Let the DIALOGUE begin: What's YOUR favorite tuna salad recipe?

Talk to me!

Til next time...

Equal Opportunity?

Yesterday at work my supervisor introduced a new employee to the group.

As usual, I offered a cordial greeting and welcomed the new guy to the company.

As he walked away my heart sank a bit. Why? Because he looked like everybody else who comes on board -- not just at my current company, but in practically every company I've worked for. He was a young White male. Ok...even if he weren't young, he'd still be typical because he's a White male. Oh, and even if he weren't a White male, he's still White.

Most of the companies I've worked for are "diverse," yet Black people are ALWAYS the lowest on the diversity pole, and Black MEN are virtually non-existent.

So I'm always left asking myself the question, "Where are the Black MEN in the workplace?"

Surely there are qualified Black MEN out there who can do what I do. Yet why aren't there any in my position, or in any of the positions I've held?

I just don't understand, and it's quite disheartening. At this very moment, if I think about the Black people that work in my current department, we are all women, and there are only a handful of us.

When I think back to how many there were at my job before this current one -- I was the only one.

If we go back to the job before that one -- I was the only one.

So again I ask, "Where are the Black MEN in the workplace?"

I know that there are many qualified Black MEN out there. So what's happening? Are they not applying? Are they applying, but not getting called for interviews? Are they getting interviews but not getting offered the job? I REALLY WANNA KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON.

How 'bout you?

Let the DIALOGUE begin: At YOUR workplace, how many Black MEN are there?

Talk to me!

Til next time...