Music is life.

The other day I was at work and one of my co-worker’s from the previous shift walked in and asked me to just hit one note before he left because it would make his workday complete. That’s when I realized that I sing a lot…I mean a lot. I can take a sentence and turn it into some theme music in a minute. I love to sing, life is music. It makes me happy. I get it from my parents. My dad whistles all day and when he’s not whistling he must be thinking about it because you can catch his lips puckered in preparation at any given moment. My mom sings like a bird and constantly lets us know that even if she just happens to fall ill and is laid up unresponsive in a hospital bed somewhere that we should just plug in some music and she’ll be back. Wow, that’s deep. Music.

I remember my first record player. It was red and little girl sized. It was big enough to play the 45’s I stole from my dad’s stash…I played them for hours and hours in my room. Heaven. I could give a live concert at the drop of a dime, mustard colored platform boots included. It was the 70’s and life was good.

As I got older I would jam my boom box and make tapes from the music on the radio. What an invention! When rap came out I was mesmerized by how fast my lips could move. Rapper’s delight made me feel like I could out-rap anyone, anywhere. Ha! Then MC Lyte quickly put me in my place, how I loved that woman, so talented. I fell in love with DJ Jazzy Jeff (the DJ) and the Fresh Prince (the rapper) and omg, when the Bodyguard came out and Whitney killed the soundtrack I must have died and gone to heaven. I would belt out each song as if I originally wrote, produced and performed it. I fell in love with singing then. “Iffffffff, IIIIIII, could staaaay. I would oooonlyy be innnn your waaaaaayy. Yes! Sing it, Whit!

Since then I have gone through countless songs to go with countless experiences, good and bad. Carl Thomas’ album Emotional got me through a breakup with my first love. Snoop’s Doggystyle and Dr. Dre’s The Chronic provided the soundtrack for many nights out with my bestie. I will never, ever forget us belting out songs by Escape and TLC. I was her faithful backup on Right Kind of Lover by Patti LaBelle because she sang it the best. Good times.

When my husband and I started dating, it was all about Boyz to Men, Jill Scott, Erykah Badu and Musiq Soulchild. I got the chance to meet Musiq and I told him that he represented our entire relationship, it was surreal; from courting to marriage he was there.

Last night I sat at my parent’s dining room table after eating a lovely Christmas dinner, soca Christmas music playing in the background, and I launched into everything that Christmas represents to me. Not only the food, the homemade bread and ham but also the music that we would blast on Christmas Eve while we decorated and cleaned. A little Johnny Mathis, a little soca (parents are from Trinidad), a little Jackson 5 Live, a little Michael Jackson Off the Wall…made Christmas complete. I could finish all of the 863 chores dad had for me because of music and I was happy while doing it.

Thank you, music, for putting into words what my emotions sometimes won’t let me. It has been a beautiful love affair and I look forward to the infinite memories we have to come. Smooch!

Blah Blah Blizzle

Holy crap, I’m gonna be the worst mother ever. That is iF sweet baby Jesus asks his dad and he says it’s cool for me and hubby to procreate. And let me tell you…it would be a miracle. I say this because I spoke to my one and only recycling egg and she told me “Look, bitch, we’re not getting any younger. I’m getting tired and y’all are getting on my last damn nerve. Do you want kids or not?” Ummmmm, yeah. I mean yeah? I mean hell yeah?! No, I don’t. I mean I do some of the time but I look at parents and see the exhaustion in their eyes and think “Sheeeeitttt. I’m good.” But then later I look again and see the unabashed joy when little one does something goofy that only a parent or relative would think is amazing and I wonder what it would be like. I watch my husband with his nieces and nephews and swoon with love at his patience and strength and all around good uncle-ness and know with all my heart that I want to have his child. Right now! But wait…I’m 41. Have you heard the statistics? I know of 2 women whose lives will never be the same after having a child after 40. One is no longer with us. Do I really want to do this? Again, I have no idea. I like kids when they are about 8 or so. They can have a civil convo and they are generally entertaining. I don’t have to watch their every move and am pretty sure that they won’t do something unpredictable and bad for their well being that would alert CPS to come running. I could see it now. “Mrs. Williams, Hi, I’m Joan Patton from CPS and I’m here to investigate the call that your very own child made to us just days ago.” Shit. That’s a lot of work. I don’t have the time or the want to follow a little human around as he totally disobeys me and embarrasses the shit out of me while I wear a facial expression that says “Oh, that’s my little comedian. He’s just showing off; he never acts like this at home.” And then the horrified witnesses would give me either an it’sokayihaveone justlikeitathome or a didyouhavetobringthatwithyou look. Either way, not cute. Kids suck on a broad level. They don’t listen, they’re needy and they suck the life out of you. Who would want that?!? A whole bunch of people. They ask me if I have kids and try to mask their shock as I answer no. Is it because they can’t believe I would be this fat without having kids? Or is it the general disbelief that a woman who has gone through countless amounts of tampons from monthly visits from baby preparedness and many years of playing house with baby dolls that suckle and cry would actually choose not to have a child???? Ummmm, yeah! I like that I don’t look my age. I like that I’m only exhausted because my husband and I chose to watch some BS on cable and go to bed at 4 in the a.m. I like that I can spend money freely for last minute trips or some more MAC makeup that I may or may not use. I can do that. But kids…kids!!!!!

I love my God children, I love my nieces and nephews, but they all scare me a little. They look at me like they know that I have no idea what I’m doing, so right. I don’t. What is that cry for? What pacifier goes with that scream? Yeah, no. Not for me. I let all the baby lovers hold the kids. “Hey, Simone! Do you want to hold her?” Horrified look from me, “Hell no!” So, like I said, a child would be a miracle and if it happens I’ll be happy because I know that God put some thought into it and thought it would be a good idea because I swear if it was left to me I would have 863 dogs, maybe a cat if hubby gave in and maybe a few hamsters to round it out. Kids schmids…unless someone says something different.

Zoe!!!

When is it too soon to get another dog? A year? A month? Right away? Hubby and I waited 7 months. We have had our beloved new furry, 4-legged daughter Zoe the Shih Tzu for 3 days, 2 nights now and it’s been good. Really good. Interesting. We named her Zoe after having her for a few hrs. I wrote Miya, Alex (short for Alexandria of course), Zoey and Sophie on a piece of paper and read them to my husband. He listened and then said “Eh” and that was it. No commitment at all and still no name. The day we got her we sat playing with her in the living room and he simply said, “I guess Zoe would be cool.” Okay, I thought. “Zoe it is,” I said and swept her up in the air while introducing her to her new name. Little did I know how hard it would be to get her name straight. Fail!

So let me give you a little history. Our first pup together was beautiful Sydney. My husband’s aunt and cousin mated (is that a word?) their Shih Tzu dogs and had a nice litter. They offered one of the pups and we greedily accepted. Even though I was so not a lap dog kind of girl. I was all about the sturdy dog, the kind of dog my plus sized self could lean on and watch reality TV. A Shih Tzu? Okay, hell, a dog is a dog and I love them. I was about to graduate and the time was right for a furry addition to our coupledom. We had the marriage, the house, the backyard…let’s do it. We poured over names and decided on Chloe that changed to Sydney once we met her. She was so perfect.

Shortly after we got her my husband James went to work overseas and Syd became my companion, my partner in crime, my boo boo. I loved the shit out of that dog and she loved the shit out of me. She was my shadow. She would chill when I chilled, she would play when I played…she loved my parents. It was perfection.

But.she.was.stubborn. She loved to run out in the street and didn’t give a dam how loud and rough you yelled, she was going to get to the other side. But not that terrible day in Feb. I will never EVER forget. She ran out in the street and got hit by my neighbor’s friend’s car. How fast are you going that you can hit a dog and kill her when you’re parking right next door? I need to let that go for once. Syd was hit and died about 10 min. later in my husband’s arms. It was awful. Absolutely awful.

So here we are 7 mos. later with a new, precious 7-week-old Shih Tzu we named Zoe. I dropped the “y” and kept on steppin’. I sometimes slip and call her Sydney, it’s hard not to. Why the hell did we choose Zoe? Zoe, Syd…that dam sssssss. But, she is so different. She’s not as independent as Syd. She wants to touch all the time. She whimpers. She’s a little more hyper. It’s crazy. Crazy good because she is ours.  Our little girl. Our Zoe. I love her already and she loves me. She’s my shadow and I feel a wicked protection for her that is part natural and part fueled by the fact that our first baby girl was killed on our watch. Not good. But there is no time like the present. We will love and protect this dog with all we have and get paid in puppy breath and scratches. Love it.

Coastal Scents pkg came in!!!!!!

Just opened my package and I cannot wait to get started. I ordered the essential kit. It came w/a # of African black soap, a # of unrefined shea butter, a huge bottle of coconut oil and another huge bottle of african wild honey. I am gonna use all of these to make a nice shampoo/body wash at some point but for now I tore of a chunk of soap and washed my face. Oh.emmeth.GEE!!!! My face was uber clean and didn't feel tight in the least. I followed up w/some witch hazel on a cotton round and nothing, I mean nothing came off on round. It was practically still white. Wow. So that was use #1, hoping for some dark spot fading/clearing, minor break out lessening and such.
As for my body, I have noticed my skin gets more sensitive and dry as I get older. I have patches of eczema that seem to pop up and disappear when they want. So annoying! I have ointment that I use for flare ups but I need something more. Hopefully the unrefined shea butter will do the trick. That and bathing w/the black soap. We shall see. Ohhhhh, and I will try using this on my scalp. I get these big flaky build-ups that are way larger than dandruff and my scalp is extra dry. It is nasty and I haven't found anything that fixes that for long. Hope this works. I'm hopeful and excited. Will keep u poasted.
Smooch!

Getting older is craziness. Craziness I tell ya!

I have been remembering my younger yrs. more than ever lately. I mean realllllllly reminiscing on the way life was before...before I gained all this weight, before I got met James and got married, before I messed up, before I cut off all my hair, before I met my ex and the list goes on and on. I am now middle aged; I mean if you only live to be 82 that is. But some people do and some don't make it to that so I'm middle aged for a whole bunch of people. When in THE hell did that happen? I just graduated college last yr. I don't have any kids, shouldn't middle aged people have some grown ass kids? Yup, I've seen them. By the way, they look waaaay older than middle aged. Ha! Just playing, not all of them. Kids age you and make you tired. I will hit on that in a later post.
Today I finally used my Groupon for Metropolitan Laser Institute and got my mustache and chin hair zapped to oblivion. Well, not oblivion yet but w/just a few more appts I should be hair free. I used to watch my mom sit at the kitchen table absently plucking her chin hair and holding a conversation w/o missing a beat...or a hair. When she caught me staring her look would read "Just wait." Dam. 
I remember this Sasquatch like woman at the hair salon; she was so dam hairy. She had a mustache, a beard, sideburns and more. Her hair was laid but it was second to the bush on her face. No one said anything about it and my mom would pinch me bcuz I was never any good at hiding my feeling from my face. Yuck. But here I am at 41 yrs. of age w/hair appearing out of thin air. I find myself watching tv mindlessly plucking and rejoicing at the victory of the plucked culprit. Not cute. So enough is enough. Take it, zap it, get rid of it! Hair be gone! I cannot wait for the day that I forget where my tweezers are and it's no big deal.
So I guess I'm gonna have to grin and bear (sp?) it when my mom starts talking about her glory days when her ass could launch a thousand ships and they would kill themselves for her and all that. Or when my grandmother in law tells me the same stories over and over and over. God love them...I feel you.

He saw the best in me...

Ohhhhh, I'm sitting here in the office looking at all this clutter from the corner of my eyes, sipping on some swiss hazelnut coffee, listening to some contemporary gospel and blogging once again. God is gooood. I love Sundays! I know that God lives in us and all that but there is something about Sunday that makes me just feel so good and loved and close to God that I just want to curl up on His lap, share His snuggie and play in His hair while we just talk and talk and talk. Like the title says, He saw, and continues to see, the best in me. Man! Can you really get the power in that???? It's better than our parents here on earth bcuz I don't care how much your people tell you that they love you no matter what and that their love is unconditional...it isn't. It can't be bcuz we r human and we are here. Only Jesus could love like that, and that's cool w/me bcuz it makes Him even more special to me. He chose me twice and I love it!!!!!! I can't believe I still live as if I'm not His child. Sad. I need to walk in the confidence that I am a child of God and i'll be good. Playing small like I don't know from whence I came. Dummy!
Life is truly a journey and as long as I keep waking up I will continue to grow and learn. At least that's the plan. Oh Lawwwwd, u know what they say about plans. Nah, not claiming that. Keep marching, sister!

Shut up and write!

Wow, I feel kinda pompous saying I have a blog but I barely write it. Oxymoron? Yeah, or even a regular moron. I need to write, I need to write often. But for some reason I don't. I feel like writing holds the key to all of my questions, worries and angst. It taunts me by way of messengers in the form of family members and friends. It taunts me by, oh I don't know, having a blog. Wow. I need to write often. I love writing, I love creating, I really do. So why don't I write? 

I am so scattered at times, so when I write all that mind jumble comes out and it makes me feel like Tara from the brilliant show on Showtime "The United States of Tara." L.O.V.E. I don't want to come off as schizophrenic, or clueless, or (worse yet) a loser. I want to be successful w/my writing. I want to bring myself to others by way of writing. I want to make people happy with my writing. But ummmm, I may need to write to do that huh?

Okay, as of today, I am not afraid to write anymore. I will be vulnerable and stand in that place of blech to get to the point of victory that I am trying to get to. The only way to get over this self-built, stately, huge ass wall is to climb over it one word at a time. So I will write, write I will. Often.