Celebration Station

Yep, the party is not over! I still have one more cha-bang left. My cousin Shinnel is throwing me my actual birthday party. I'm so psyched! I haven't had one since my BFF forever, Tracee, gave me a surprise party when I turned 26. So, yeah, I'm really ready for it.

However, in the meantime, I've had little moments of celebration. In especially, the cruise. My mom killed two birds with one stone by taking us on this vacation, we celebrated mine and Dove's birthday. Just us three gals on a cruise to the Bahamas. My mom flew in from the Motor City with the hugest, heaviest luggage. Can someone tell her that we don't pack like that anymore? Geesh, she didn't even wear most of the stuff she packed.

Any-hoo, this trip came at the right time. I was so overwhelmed with everything going on. I didn't feel stressed, but I could tell that I needed a little break. Lately I have been traveling, but it wasn't always pleasure. Funny thing is, I've been traveling more without the steady-income-job at the bank and I'm not living off credit cards. It doesn't add up on paper, but I'm living more free now than I did then. (Can someone holla, favor!)

Getting back to the cruise...I see that I'll have to take several installments to get all my thoughts out. When we first stepped on the boat, it was buzzing with excitement. People didn't know where to go first. Colorful drinks with cute umbrella's were popping up everywhere - but they weren't free. (Pace yourself, folks!) We were starving so we decided to eat first and check out the room once they were available.

Carnival Fantasy is an older ship so it wasn't as large as most cruise ships. I've gone on Royal Caribbean and it had so many other options for food and activities. But hey, this was a free trip - a cruise at that so who's complaining? Not me. It really wasn't about me because this was also a trip for my daughter. It was so wonderful to see her and my mom laughing and bonding. We don't get to see each other as much so this was definitely a winner for all three of us.

On the very first day we met three gals from Asheville. Can someone say, "Road Trip!" Thank goodness for Facebook, we're able to keep in touch. They were so fun that an instant bond was formed. Hilariously enough, they were all in their 20's and you have me -40- and my mom -much older- hanging out with younger gals. I do hope we didn't look like two old biddies trying to be young. Ugh!

Oh, another thing...a guy found his way to where I was sitting -reading- on the high deck. Dove was in the children's camp and my mom was in the art gallery so I found peace - alone. Well, I was found and I had to put down my book (The Grapes of Wrath) to carry on a conversation lest I be rude, right? Well, he bought a drink for me, nice. But, not necessary. Finally my mom came -the reference mom came up in our conversation several times as I talked about her - and joined us. He bought her a drink as well. All was fine and dandy until he called her "mom" one too many times. She rolled her neck and said, "Listen, don't call me mom again. I'm her mom, not yours...(under breath) sh** we're about the same age..." Hilarious! That man could do nothing right after that no many how many drinks he offered her. He had no chance with me because she ex'd him out with picking him apart the rest of the cruise. "Something isn't right with him...he's divorced twice..."

Thank goodness finding love was not on my agenda because she blocked my chances for that one! This was a family trip, just the girls, and family love was in the air.

Taste of another custom...

So, my cousin went to Dubai (yes, all the way over to the infamous, luxurious Dubai) and posted the pictures of Facebook to prove it. She indulged in the exquisite desires and comforts that Dubai has to offer. But, who's jealous. I'm not jealous. Who said anything about jealous? Ohhh, one day, perhaps...

She partook in the custom that even the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland experienced. The Hookah Pipe. Who remembers the relaxed, cool caterpillar puffing on the end of the stem? I remember when I first saw a hookah bar. I was at a Writer's Conference in Tampa and striding along with a few authors, we stumbled on one. Aussie bestselling author, Anita Heiss, and I wanted to try it out. Hey, that's what writer's do. We engage our senses and dare to experience life so that we can write about it. However, we didn't because the other two writer's didn't want to do it. Awww....

So, guess what? Charlotte has a hookah bar. Well, it's a dessert bar with hookah pipes. Same thing. And, I tried it. Yep, along with some other virgins to the hookah. We had to ask some hookah novices to show us what to do. I have to admit, it was exciting to try something new - that was also legal. And, it was pretty relaxing as well. (I don't think my pastor would approve, but if I was still a member of Christ Central, it would be fine since I know Pastor Harold experienced it and is not the least judgemental.)

The group of us puffed the strawberry flavored leaves and chuckled at each other as we attempted to look cool as newbies. It was cool. An experience, but I won't be feigning to get to the hookah bar every weekend for a fix. Now, if I ever go to Dubai, I know exactly what to expect. Or, if I'm every hanging out with Snoop, I'll know what he means by puff-puff pass - but only in the legal sense. :)

I know...I know...

This is it...I can't fake it any longer. Time is of the essence and yes, me, have procrastinated almost the entire year. I know that I was supposed to leave that terrible habit behind me. I know this already! I know that I declared to fit into a two piece swimsuit by my 4oth birthday. Get off of my back already. I know that I have about 30 days to go and I haven't worked out with my Jackie Warner video tapes consistently or done my ab/core work. Enough torturing me already! I know, darn!

It's not your fault. It's me. I'm under pressure. So, I didn't mean to get all defensive and stuff. You see, I went to my all time favorite store, Target' (pronounced Tar-jay for us couture folks). And, I saw a bikini - it was part black and black is supposed to be slimming, right? And, I have been teaching dance fitness classes and stuff so I thought I'd go to the dressing room to check my progress. *Ahem* What had happened, the bottom was a small and I could have used a medium, you know? So, I found a size medium and went back to the dressing room. *Ahem* I don't know what is wrong with my throat. Anyhoo...I told my daughter that I'd call her when I was ready to seek her opinion. I opted out of that choice.

Well, I renewed my challenge. I bought the bikini refusing to take the tags off just in case I don't reach my goal - to set it as a challenge to work hard for 30 days and see what changes I find while wearing the bikini. When I got home, I had my daughter take pictures of me in the black two-piece. What was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking. I was thinking that it can't be all that bad since I exercise on a daily basis. It won't be that bad even with a little belly and love handles and a little back fat. I cannot possibly be that bad. *ahem - ahem* It was worse.

No more chocolate...wine...refined carbs...and whatever else I know is wrong to have. I will not be defeated. I must look better - on camera - in a two piece. Yes, I do already have a tankini - that's not the point. I set a goal so I have to reach it, even if it is after -much later- than my goal date.

*ahem*

Freedom Starts in the Mind

Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world. - Harriet Tubman

Charleston is one quaint town that I love to visit. It seems as if every tree, stone, house and building has a story connected to it. And, boy do I love stories. Recently, I found myself taking a few days of R&R in my favorite spot. (Other than seeing my aunt Sophia and her husband at my hotel all the way in a different state and quickly sneaking out the door to avoid a confrontation - everything was pretty much R&R - see blogs about family.)

My friend and I visited Boone Plantation. As the sun glared angrily down at us, we could just about imagine the miserable lifestyle of the slaves working in the field. I said, "just about" because we were merely walking around the plantation and not doing heavy labor. Brick slave cabins still exist on the plantation (the wood shacks were destroyed during one of the hurricane seasons). The bricks were handmade by the slaves and if you look closely you will find finger impressions in the bricks.

We walked through the cabins and it hit me, "Slaves lived, breathed, birthed babies in this very place. I'm standing where they stood, wept, dreamed and loved." One of the cabins was excavated and they found the bones of animals that were buried. They questioned, "How could slaves live off of the meager food rations - nutrition wise - and perform all the labor demanded of them?" They hunted and buried the leftover bones under the cabin floor so that the master wouldn't find them.

We also visited the Slave Market, where they brought the slaves, housed and cleansed them for auction. This is where I broke down crying and had a break through.

As I touched the walls that my ancestors were shackled to I wept for them and for me. I thought, "How dare I question my gifts? They made so much progress with limited resources...they fought so hard for freedom...MY FREEDOM. I have to do all that I can to live up to my full potential. How dare I question if I'm a good enough writer to go to graduate school or how could I afford it! I have to do it, for me and for them.

I freed a thousand slaves I could have freed a thousand more if only they knew they were slaves. -Harriet Tubman Free your mind!

We live in fear daily: How can I afford it? What if I fail? What if I don't get promoted? How can I do this? If our ancestors lived in constant fear and worry, we wouldn't be free.

There's an old saying, "We stand tall on the shoulders of our ancestors." Yes, I'm standing tall, working on my manuscript to get to graduate school to write words that will motivate minds. I'm standing on the shoulders of Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglas, W.E.B. DuBois, Sojourner Truth, Nat Turner and the unnamed hero's who shed blood by the lash or put fear aside and pushed for liberty.

I am turning forty next month and I have to show some growth this year in my journey. Me loving myself, pushing myself to reach my full potential, live life without regrets and fear is my goal. So yes, I'm free to live - live my best life now! It is not my desire, it is my destiny!

Eleven years ago...

Eleven years ago I found myself in labor pushing for hours. As Sienfield made its way on the television, my daughter's head began to crown as if she knew I regularly watched the series and wanted to make her debut to watch it with me. The pain I block out, but I do remember the nurses saying, "How did itty-bitty you give birth to such a big baby?" Secretly, I was a little insecure to have such a bib 8 lb. 8 oz baby since it was always said in amazement as if it was a bad thing.

Now my little-big baby has grown to such a tall, thick legged eleven year old. My, my, my how time flies. I remember how she used to play in my shoes. As of last weekend as she scurried to find character shoes for her production of Beauty and the Beast, we discovered that she could no longer fit my shoes. Her feet have surpassed my size 7.

I fell in love with her ever since the seed was planted in my womb. I used to talk and play with her as she formed her tiny limbs and body. She was a part of me as much as I was a part of her. Actually, she was sent to me to save my life. She has made me settled down to build a home instead of running from place to place. She has given me permission to open my heart and love, when I convinced myself that it was okay not to receive or give it freely.

Eleven years have gone by and I have learned a life full of lessons since there hasn't been a book written to adequately prepare a single mother for motherhood. I'm not perfect and will never will be. But, we're a team. Recently I was asked, "what inspires you?" I thought about it and responded, "My daughter. I live to pursue my dreams so that she can know that she can do anything she puts her mind to. She can say to herself, 'if mommy did it, so can I.' I want her to be proud to call me Mom."

I desire to plant so many seeds of greatness inside of her because she is my legacy. Twelve years ago, I would never have considered being a parent. But, as I look over the last decade of my life, I'm so happy that she chose me to be her mother. My life would have been completely different without her - whether better or worse - and I wouldn't change anything.

For the first five or six years my mantra was, "I can't believe I'm a mother." Now, it's changed, "I can't believe I'm a mother of an eleven year old." Soon it'll be, "I can't believe I'm a mother of a teenager...college student..." Time, please stand still so that I can rock her in my lap and watch her sleep one more time.

I just lost one...

"Who me? What?" I mouthed to the hunk of man on the cruiser in the left turning lane. He signaled a "hi" and gestured about me pulling over. This took me back to my highschool and college days when guys flirted with girls and let them know that they were desirable. Ohhh the days. I was flattered to be checked out on a hot day plus being sweaty from working out.

Biker man navigated his way out of the biker lane and followed me to Target. He seemed a little charming, but again I could have been so flattered that in my now past youth days that I'm still being flagged down. Or, it could be that I was taken aback since men in Charlotte won't utter a single compliment to women even on our best Halle Berry-everything-is-tight day.

We exchanged numbers and as on cue he asked, "Where's your man?" Cute, same line guys used since the 70's. "I don't have a man," I said. But, I did tell him that I had a friend.

Biker man wore my phone out! It quickly went to, "I miss my boo," and "My baby is smart!" Whoaaa big fella, it's way too soon to be labeling me as boo and baby. Big turn off! So, I backed off a little. I have to admit it would have been cool riding on the cruiser or sailing on his "boat" (if that was true.) However, my antennae was sensing something strange and I had to acknowledge it.

Finally, I told him, "Listen, I can't give you the time that you want. I won't leave my daughter at home alone to come meet you. I won't bring her to meet you because I don't introduce her to guys I've just met. And, to be honest, I'm just really busy with the direction my life is moving. So, don't wait for me, go do your thing." He quickly told me that he wasn't waiting, but he just wanted to see me. (Yeah, okay.)

Over the holiday weekend, dude called me over and over. Men, don't do that. Women, don't you dare do that!!! Don't keep ringing someone's phone until you get them. Give them a chance to call you back. Ugh! I was never given that chance and I was irritated. He must have called not once or twice, but about 8 times over the weekend without me calling back. Beyonce's "Diva" played out on my iPod and I said, "Okay B, let's do this."

I called dude back (he had just called me twice, back to back again) and told him, "Hey, I was busy and saw how many times you called. You don't have to call me over and over until you get me on the line. When I'm not busy, I'll call you back. That's irritating and overwhelming. And, when I feel overwhelmed I back away..." He tried to interject something about telling my man to stop taking up my time and that he just wanted to see me or something stupid like that. "Listen, I'm feeling overwhelmed," I continued. "So, I don't think...hello?"

Dude hung up on me... What the? Do men in their 40's still hang up? Ha, apparently so.