Candy, candy candy!

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Death

When the last breath leaves my body, and the sheet is pulled over my head, please do not cry for me, do not morn, because I am now free.
Earlier today, I was engaged in a conversation with my sister in regards to my brother K., whom I and my older brother both feel is knocking on deaths door. I have been surrounded by death my entire life, beginning with my mom who died when I was 4 years old and my grandpa Pete who died when I was 12 and the list goes on. I could tell from talking to my sister, that death, and the details surrounding the deceased was a very emotional subject for her, add to the fact, when I told her that I have already contacted a Funeral service provider, she got a little quiet. Death is a part of life, and it is most definitly, a non-negotiable. My brother will be cremated, the siblings and I will split the cost and we will have his memorial service at our mom's grave in San Francisco, and we will release his ashes.
Have you ever discussed, your funeral arrangements with your family?

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WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

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Mind boggling!

This is how I am feeling right about now!

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I really miss New Orleans food

A beef noodle soup (you can also you pork chops, ham,) that's a long time tradition in New Orleans' black community, served in bars New Orleans' black community, served in bars corner groceries and at second lines. Spaghett topped with chopped meat, half a hard-boiled egg green onions and a beef soy-sauce-and- Worcestershire sauce broth, which is really good and a lot better than it sounds It's also supposedly an ace hangover cure (hence the nickname). (Recipe) 5 pounds boneless chuck, eye of round or brisket (or 2 to 3 pounds other cooked or brisket (or 2 to 3 pounds other cooked meat, such as shrimp, chicken, ham, etc.) Dry seasoning mix such as Season-All or Tony Chachere's 2 (16-ounce) packages spaghett 2 to 3 bunches green onions 6 hard-boiled eggs 1 small bottle soy sauce Optional garnishes: Soy sauce Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, ketchup In a large pot, cover roast with water and add Season-All or Tony's. Simmer unti done. Reserve stock juice. Set meat aside and let cool. Skim grease off stock juice and set aside. Shred or chop meat. Chop green onions fine. Peel eggs, and cut in half. Cook spaghetti according to package directions; drain and keep hot. Mix stock juice with soy sauce. (Other seasonings of choice may be added to stock at this point, if you wish.) To serve, ladle spaghetti into a bowl. TopAccording to the best ya ka mein maker in the city, it was probably brought back by black veterans of the Korean war. "Seoul food," (Notes on making so far: use a mirepoix (onions carrots, celery) to flavor the broth. A halved head of garlic wouldn't hurt either. Simmer slowly. DO NOT BOIL. Lots of Worcestershire sauce also seems to be key to achieving the flavor.)

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Wordless Wednesday

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Facebook helps siblings separated more than 40 years ago reunite for Thanksgiving | abc7news.com

Joy, peace and happiness is not a commodity, that can be purchased. It does not have a price tag, it is a feeling contentment, being fullfilled, complete, to be made whole. My journey of J.P. and Happiness is captured in the link below.

<a href="http://abclocal.go.com/kgo/story?section=news/state&amp;id=7809088">Facebook helps siblings separated more than 40 years ago reunite for Thanksgiving | abc7news.com</a>

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Dance, dance, dance

I listened to Pandora radio, most of the day on Saturday. My station preference is Jazz, I got up and shook my groove thing to the beat. I really enjoy those moments in time, just twirling and moving in time to the funky beats. When I dance I am in another place and time, and nothing matters but the cool, funky beats. For me these are my "calgon take me away moments"

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Friends!

Friends come and go, but a best friend will stand the test of time!

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Cry Baby!

Many who know me would probably label me as a cry baby. I think I am the only person that can produce a birage of tears just from looking at a commercial, depending on the theme. I have been a serial cryer for as long as I can remember. Even being in the presence of someone who is crying, has been known to open up my flood gates and before I realize it I am balling my eyes out. Now that I think back, when my granny would inform that a whooping, was coming my way before the day was over, I would start crying, and she would say "I am not moved by your tears". So you see crying, has been apart of who I am for a long time.

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Pick up your own shit!

Different day same shit, not a day has gone by without someone singing the same ole shitty song in my ear. It's his fault, her fault, their fault, and I am sick of hearing it. We all have had life altering experiences that have effected our lives in some way, shape, form or fashion.  The scriptures tell me that
"My latter will be greater"
Job 8:7 King James Version (KJV)  Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end should greatly increase. Sometimes we tend to put so much focus, on the what was, and we  tend to miss out on the what is. My childhood,will not go down in my mental memory being labeled as a charmed life. But way back in my late terms, I decided to put on my big girl undies and keep it moving. I have learned to pick up my own shit and flush it in the receptacle of my past. Only holding on to those bits and pieces, that have shaped and fined tuned, and calibrated me into the woman I am today. I know many people may need closure, answers and maybe even a thesis, presented to them by the person/people who have violated or wronged them, but when you continously allow the shit that has happened to you reak havoc in your life like a category 7 hurricane, more than likely you are looking for a pity party. Pick your shit up,stop allowing your past, to dictate your future. As a kid growing up in a home with a grandmother, who was more like a Sgt. in Hitlers army, I was never shown love, affection,the other grandkids were the apple of her eye, and I was the thorn in her side, the words I love you, never escaped her lips directed my way, not even on her death bed in 1985, when with tears racing down my face, I said those words to her as I tasted the salt from my tears on my tongue. She just looked at me, not saying a word. Placing the blame on her would have eased my hurt, but I actually pitied and forgave her, along with the others who disregarded my worth, along my life' journey. I know my latter is Greater! ot<

Back together AGAIN!

A year ago this month, I spoke to my siblings for the first since 1969! God is Good!!

Me!

Who are you? Is the question someone asked me many years ago. As I pondered the q. My mind raced, as if it was a race car finishing its final lap for first place. And finally verbiage flowed, with with the biatchness and superficial,snobbery of my persona. When I concluded my, bourgeois, self loving, glass full, explanation of who I was, it shocked me to no ends, as each word left my lips, I realized just how self absorbed I was as a person, strung out on my own accolades, atta boys and material things. Blowing my saxaphone, like a one piece band, with the world as my audience screaming for a encore. It took the wind out of my sail. It forced me to reflect upon self, and since that time, I have come to realize who I am, I think the light bulb moment happened to me in my late 20's. Since that time, when I am asked that question, the prior thesis is no longer needed. I know my glass is 1/2 full, I am a daughter, the little sister, good friend, emotional, a ride or die chick, agressive, curse like a sailor, incest survivor, rape survivor, great listener, extremely introverted, nuturer, love jazz, a great secret keeper, insomniac, and I freaking love to read, and write. I miss my Auntie F., and I cry for her a lot. Stubborn, that's Moi! Do you know who you are?

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Sometimes! Part 1

I wonder what my life would have been like, had the horrific events of my childhood never happened. Losing my mom at the age of 4, being separated from my family and being held emotionally hostage by a woman who refused to love me. Sometimes I wonder!

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I am not a rock!

I often wonder what it is about my exterior makeup that leaves people thinking that I am a pillar of strength? A rock, tough as nails, strong and fierce. I am none of those, but quite the opposite. I have many moments in time, where the worry bug sets in, and the unknown over shadows my being, my mind races and my pulse is beating fast. Thoughts of tomorrow, next week and the new year sends me on a bouncing trampoline of worry, fear, doubt, and uncertainty. Being the anal person that I am, not to omit the fact that I tend to internalize shit, and the point that, a power point presentation is always going off in my head like a freaking motion light. Yes, I am human, years ago I learned not to wear my emotions on a lanyard around my neck! I have also learned not everyone is Ford Tough enough to assist you with getting over your issues, help you pull yourself up out of your knee deep ish! So, I become me in the altered sense! I keep my monkeys-issues, and deal with them myself!

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Thinking!

Sometimes my mind rolls into overdrive, just thinking about ish. I am always in the ON mode, there is seldom a off zone for me unless I am sleeping. Hence, this blog was conceived! A platform for me to share my dreams, fears, tears and victories, not to mention my defeats! And the other Ish that is really deep!

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