Catching Up with Sunday

It is difficult for me to get to sleep every Saturday night. I decided I would take a little something, something to help me doze off. I was so relaxed that I slept through the entire night. When I awakened I was surprised that my husband was still in bed. Glancing at the clock I noticed it was way pass his normal time to prepare for church. “Hey”, I nudged him, “Aren’t you getting up?” My reason for nudging him was purely selfish. I wanted the bathroom all to my self as I prepared to shower and dress for church. Man! Now I’m going to have to share the bathroom with him. Oh well I trudged to the bathroom to begin the routine. Still he hadn’t moved. I looked at the clock again. Hmmm, that’s not like him to sleep in on a Sunday. Peeking at him resting and peaceful it suddenly dawned on me, oh my gosh it’s Saturday! I had lost an entire day, not to mention a sleep aid that I would need for tonight! Oh well, I crawled back into bed and went soundly back to sleep.

The Real Housewives

The Real Housewives of Atlanta or “Keeping it Real in the ATL” is what it should be called because of the “down home and scrappy" way Bravo perceives the ladies. Their agenda is to keep it real to keep us watching. Bravo’s way of presenting the ladies of Atlanta is as bourgeois princesses who jump form house to house, have public fall outs with friends, back stab, and wreck homes. This is not acceptable and not the least bit cute. Is this what Atlantan women are really all abou? Is this some new kind of crazy? Ah, but that’s life. We hate to see it in our face, but week after week we tuned in to see what the reality chicks were doing that might make our own lives seem a little more perfect.
Here’s a play by play of the final episode in case you missed it. Sheree’s fashion show a la Dwight went off without a hitch. Dwight insisted that he knew best. As it turned out, according to Bravo, he did. Without his staging vision combined with his gi’normous talent for displaying all things beautiful, Sheree’s show might not have met her own expectations. She thanked Dwight and Dwight reciprocated by walking on stage with her to present her with flowers. I think his ego wouldn’t allow the public to think that Sheree had done it all by herself.
Kim needs to give that man his ring back. It’s only a ploy so he can keep playing. And by the way, why is Kim portrayed as the victim of wrath by NeNe et. al. I can hear NeNe now, “unfair, unfair”. And Kim, how dare you boast about changing wigs every day to the tune of $12,000 a month! Take that money and buy a couple of clues.
NeNe wants Greg to be okay with her wanting to bond with her alleged father. Greg empathically says “No, I’m not going to be okay. ” Hold on NeNe, hold on to the bird in the hand.
I wondered how the show would treat the passing of Kandi’s financee, AJ. They showed clips of a Mother’s Day gathering with Kandi’s and AJ’s people. Kandi’s mom was very cordial to AJ and finally accepted him as Kandi’s choice. It was important that we have that lasting memory of the two of them.
And finally where is Lisa in all of this? She’s being a fabulous cupi doll, dressed and ready to impress at Sheree’s fashion show. But the eyes tell it all.
Enough of the housewives, I have a life to get back to.

When the Rubber Hits the Road

What is it about men and their sneakers that would cause such a ruckus. I'm so sick of this my stuff, your stuff, stay out of my room. If you want it then you shoulda put a lock on it. (Sung to Beyonce's "Ring On It") Over and over, I tell them to put a lock on your closet door if you don't want anybody in your stuff. But then that didn't keep me out of my sister's closet. The door was so warped, all I had to do was push it in and reach in and grab what I wanted to wear that day. Was it right? No, no, no. But for me, a person who was not working but wanted to look fly everyday of my senior year, getting into my sister's closet was the best way to make that happen. And yes, we had many a knock down drag out about it all. It all comes back to haunt me! Mama said there'd be days like this. Hoo, boy!

Book Signing

You're Invited to a Book Signing @ Just Churchin, 6116C Covington Hwy., Lithonia, GA 30058 August 1, 2009 @ 11AM - 2PM. Looking for the Promise? Purchase your book online or get one while you're there.

Creativity - Chapter 9

The population at Monroe College included a mixture of rich and working class kids. The atmosphere of the campus was very independent. The students were allowed to explore their creativity without the blemishes of other campus problems like racism, ratios and government funding. Anyone with a speck of creativity was worthy of attention. Marva was revived on this campus after her breakup with Robie.
She sat in classes that lit her creativity. Her poetry class was inspiring, dance was invigorating and her journalism class taught by another one of those old dudes who took a
liking to her would ensure an easy ‘A’.

Marva loved traveling back and forth to campus. The 40 mile commute on the train gave her ample time to study, write and just be alone. She didn’t mind that there was no man who was the center of her joy. She proved that she could have something all her own. She had a life now that allowed her to make her own decisions. This metamorphic time of her life was exhilarating.
In class the instructor often had the students read from their portfolios. “For critique,” he would say in his British accent. She wrote:

“Morning gently touched her. It held big surprises
And a walk toward the ultimate goal.
Everyone watched as she danced to her own lilting music.
One could hear the chimes as she tinkled along.
She was giddy to the point of being obscene.
She was weaving out of the
darkness, dawn was just ahead.
She was clear, she had purpose, and she could do it.
She would close the emotional closets
Side step the distractions
Her stone crested heart would dissolve
Get free, release him She heard a whisper.
The bitterness and pity would be gone
No more of the other woman’s scent or spirit
Its lingering failed No more, wasted nights by the telephone
No more, willing the telephone to ring
No more, wee hour calls
No more, late night visits.
She released him, now awaits the surprises
They came in various shapes and sizes;
Box 1—Happiness
Box 2—Independence
Box 3—Self Worth
Box 4—New Friendships
A huge box of success and prosperity awaited
But sadly there were no packages to give him
They had already been opened and used
For once she was selfish
All of the new packages were wrapped and labeled
To My Beloved, A Very Special Me”

As the writing group sat around critiquing Marva’s selection, she was content that she could just breathe. She had walked into an atmosphere of peace. She had cancelled the pain from a lying, cheating man. After Robie, Marva didn’t date much. School, work and friends kept her busy. Several instructors had come on to her and she wondered if she wore a sign around her neck declaring her fondness for older men. SBF SEEKS OLD DUDE TO ROCK HER WORLD. The pattern of hanging out with older people had not died. She found herself hanging out with men her senior purely for the cama50 Looking for the Promise raderie. On more than one occasion she attended a party with one of her professors. She discovered the professor’s dark secret.
At the party she found the men hanging onto the men and the women onto
the women. Marva thought maybe they were clustered because the men were
talking sports or politics, something of which she could converse when she
wanted.
One dark sister with yellowy eyes got in her face. She smiled and danced
around Marva trying to woo her into the circle of her opened arms. Marva was no
fool; she knew it was devilish lust and that it was time to ‘ease on down the road’.
The sick feeling that overcame her devastated her for weeks. If she couldn’t tell
if a man was gay and not in to her, well she would just have to swear off men for
awhile. She stayed away from the class the remainder of the quarter. She knew if
she went back to this professor’s class there would be some issues. She was not a
part of the homosexual crowd of which he apparently wanted to induct her. Now
she understood why one or more of the gays in the class were so fond of him.
She knew if she went near him or his friends she would break their code of
silence, especially if one of the gay women in that office approached her. She
needed to not worry, they were as much afraid of her as she was of them. They
were still in the closet.
Marva never had a clue that her professor was gay. Well, she could kiss that easy grade goodbye. She would have to earn it the old fashioned way. She would also drop the course he taught and repeat it during the summer semester. She was homophobic.After that experience, moving on to a more traditional school was pretty appealing. Creativity had its price but she would not be paying. She thought about what she would be giving up to transfer to the university her brother attended. Marva had made friends at Monroe, her sorority sisters were like true friends. She would miss them but knew she had to pursue her higher degree.
At Preston University she met other like-minded women with similar goals.
She began to hang out with her sorors from that campus. They would sit around
and laugh about their individual pledging days. It was something to laugh about.
Marva and her new friends Lauren, Jeanette and Litrese became the four musketeers.
Gamma Beta was like the other sororities, infamous for pledging the girls hard
in an attempt to build a bond of sisterhood. Trying to decide if she wanted to
face their brand of humiliation was a no brainer. Getting her rump roasted at
every other meeting and being subservient was not her idea of sisterhood. What
was she thinking? She had blood sisters and she didn’t have to fight with them.

Her line sisters called every night begging her to stay on line. They found out when they would be made full-fledged members of Gamma Beta. Marva was stubborn and once again told them no! She had had enough of the rough stuff. When all of her pledge sisters showed up at her door looking pitiful and explained that they wouldn’t be inducted without her, she gave in. They crossed the burning sands together and were bonded by eternal sisterhood.
Now on this campus with new friends and new goals she realized that her life
had become too fast for her. She needed a temporate place to slow down. Marva thought
about the years she had spent under her father’s roof. He had given her some lessons
about life she would not forget. One pleasant thing about being at home was that guys
tended to not take advantage of you. There seemed to be more respect when a dad was
in the picture, not to mention brothers. But now it was time to move out of her father’s house, she had a different perspective and wanted to be responsible for her own life. She would remind herself that she didn’t have to live life as someone’s ‘piece’. She was tired of giving the milk away for free.

Buy It Now!

Appreciating the Words

An interesting thing happens when you share your thoughts and words with others. Some are moved, some are nonchalant, some are expressive and appreciative. The Meet the Author event held at D'lor Salon and Spa in the Atlanta Cascade area, was just the trial for Looking for the Promise. How do you know when someone appreciates your work? The discussion was very mellow as attendees responded to excerpts from the book, Looking for the Promise. It was hard to not get caught up in the insightful exchange of comments from guests.

Words, Words, Words

Patrice reads an excerpt from the book, Looking for the Promise, and the ladies are amused. "Can I get a witness?"