I swear this isn't whining....

It's been an unfortunate while since I've posted, but I've been in the midst of so many things. Like anyone with ears and/or eyes already knows, I earned my CDL. That has become one of my greatest accomplishments to date. However, coming across a great opportunity to use it has not been so easy to come by. Honestly, I'm not being picky and refusing job offers. This economy is so hard that there's drivers with years of experience still looking for work, so it's kinda hard for a newbie to compete against experienced drivers.

On top of that, my husband and I have entered the adult world of house shopping. It's not a euphemism for anything kinky. We're seriously house hunting. Interestingly, I am actually completely on board with this despite my fears that my credit wasn't good enough for a loan and my husband's desire to live in...Decatur. *semi-shudder*

Don't get me wrong or call me a snob. Any person raised on the Southside of Atlanta will easily tell you that Decatur seems more like a different world than another part of Atlanta just 30 minutes away. The difference has always been monumental to a kid like me who likes the laidback feel of College Park compared to the crowded hustle and bustle of the Eastside. But our journey into homebuying has shown me that a nice side of Decatur really does exist. (Trust that I did not look anywhere near Memorial Drive because I cannot shake that stigma for anything.) Plus, there's seems to be an energy in that city. A Hustler's Spirit that extends beyond slanging drugs to reach towards legal dreams of entrepreneurship, moving up the corporate ladder. A Go Get 'Em edge that you cannot ignore and have to acknowledge and respect or be suffocated by. So, whenever we buy, our residence will very likely be in Decatur after all, and we will be infected with that energy.

So, houseshopping, jobhunting, and still growing into my role as a wife and a Christian have consumed my life. Some things that hold a dear place in my heart have temporarily taken a backseat until I can step into the next phase of my life. I refuse to sever any ties because I will return.


But there are three things that have an unbearable hold on me and continue to hold me back. Working at the current job that will not lead to a viable career; knowing that my writing skills take a complete backseat to everything else; and my weight issues. If anyone pays attention to my FaceBook status updates, I'm frequently drowning in a sea of sub-mediocrity. The most rampant offenders remind of those fish and creatures that can only be found with special deep-sea diving equipment, so they have no business being out of water...except to make my whole department so drained that we can only return home each day and just regroup, rest, and return the next day for more tidal waves of tomfoolery.



I feel so spent after each workday that I don't blog or write anything or make any efforts towards self-improvement. Well, except my water aerobics days. But I need more than just those three days to get past this weight that's holding me back. The part that fascinates me is I know what I need to do in terms of eating right and exercising more frequently. It just happens to be difficult to get up the motivation and gumption to do it all because of how deflating and depressing my current work situation is. Sometimes, I feel like there's a smooth silky rope around my neck that feels comfortable at first, but then there's an anchor on the other end of the rope that keeps me in that sea of idiocy.

Despite all of the seeming pessimism, my hopes and dreams of moving forward remain. Eventually, I'll get to move forward, but I don't intend to wait too long. Everything will improve with time, so I'm not completely deflated. My hope-filled heart will keep beating, and my dreams will become reality soon enough. I just hope I won't have to wait very long.

Speaking of being uplifted, I found the original "I Am the Black Gold of the Sun" by the psychedelic soul group Rotary Connection which included the incomparable, unforgettable songstress Minnie Ripperton.

Get uplifted, people. Check out the Nuyorican Soul cover from 1997, too.

ROTARY CONNECTION-"I AM THE BLACK GOLD OF THE SUN" (1971)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DR_NMtBEj4



Nuyorican Soul - I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun (4 Hero Remix) song starts at 0:38
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIzqQOs_IrI

Don't tell me God ain't real because I PASSED!!!

After entering the gate without hitting a curb possibly hitting a gate, the examiner asked me to stop the vehicle, park the truck, and meet him inside. No indication of a pass or fail. I waited and waited about 30 minutes on pins and needles. I felt confident that I passed the driving portion because the pre-trip went well, and the backing maneuvers were flawless as I earned no points. When the examiner came back with that sealed envelope with my test results, I nearly tackled him as I rushed to receive my reward and embraced him. I hugged errybody in the room!!! I squealed with delight as the fruits of my labor and sacrifice were finally completed.

I'm very much so on my way to being a pretty trucker, and all the praise goes to God. I prayed so much in the past 24 hours, and I kept encountering scriptures that would speak to my situation despite the worry. Today, I visited a site and found that Mark 11:24 says, "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours (http://www.christnotes.org/dbv.php?d=2009-03-23)". Oddly, I prayed and request prayer that I wouldn't have to perform parallel parking because it proved difficult for me as I was often hit or miss on completing the maneuver. However, I also prayed that if I received parallel, then I knew God would guide me through it because He already helped he obtain the knowledge and skills set; I would just have to apply what I know. I prayed from Him to be with me again when I had to perform the task, and I pretty much KILLED it. It was perfectly in the box, and I knew I had passed the maneuvers...with no points!!!




I don't have any jobs lined up yet because things will take time and have some other things I have to accomplish first. However, I hope to be working in the field quite soon. I will stay with God on this part of plan as He has already proven He is the one to be with on this thing called Life. I'm so blessed today, and I hope this has blessed someone, anyone who wants to be a trucker or anything else they dream to be. It's never too late, and it's never too much if you go with God. He never left me and was just waiting for me to come to Him. Look what happened when I did. I will be a pretty trucker in the very near future. God is sooo cool. :)

NOTE: I found this awesome graphic at http://www.girlscantwhat.com/2008/03/05/meet-trucker-pamela-febbo/. Found it today, and LOVE IT!

WOOOOOOSAHHHHHH!!! I'll be a pretty trucker yet

My original intentions were to blog every single week about my experience in the Commercial Truck Driving course at Dekalb Tech. Wouldn't it be great to know what the school entails, how great (or possibly not so great) the different instructors are, etc.??? Yes, that was a great idea, but I'm so busy with a 40 hour job and 30 hours of school.... That idea died.

But this Monday will mark the beginning of week 9, and I couldn't be happier!!! "Thrilled" would not fully express how excited I eel about the progress I made yesterday. The backing maneuvers that have been stressing and taunting me are finally becoming fun now that I can complete the maneuvers. My spirit was as bright and glowy as the sky was on yesterday's spring like afternoon. Granted, the sweat rolled down my forehead and back from working so hard on a warm day with no A/C. (Most trucks have A/C, but I was so focused since 9 AM that I forgot to turn it on later.) My body feels different levels of soreness I haven't felt before. But I'm much closer to becoming a driver after all.

Driving the truck is a thrill of its own. I love being a cute girly girl operating that big vehicle with little or no trouble. Being behind the wheel sitting in "the hot seat" with my instructor makes my happiness bubble over. I'm all smiles when I'm driving (unless it's a Mack truck). Basically, my spirit is overjoyed to be doing what I've always wanted to do.

The only thing that could make me happier will be earning the actual CDL. Pray for me, people.

To leave or not to leave...that is SOOO the question.

A former colleague once told me I shouldn't put so much reality into my blog. Well, I guess if my entries deal with co-workers, then her advice makes sense. Otherwise, what I type must reflect me and the things in life that are affecting me.

Like the 7.2% unemployment rate and how it's affecting my rationale in the midst of my euphoria before I start my 10-week Commercial Truck Driving course.

Lord knows I have prayed before walking into a job in the past, and I still find myself doing that in my current position at the company I label as "a terrible place in [a suburban area north of Atlanta]". Prayers will definitely cross my lips on Monday when I walk into work after a nice weeklong vacation. More like drag myself through those transparent doors and fighting back tears when I press the up button for the elevator.

More than anything, I want to walk away from that job without a second thought. Just leave behind the insanity disguised as commerce. Well, not all is terrible at my job because I sincerely dig my manager. If it wasn't for her, I would not have taken off the very first week of the year, but she understood why I had to. But even with her being supportive and understanding, I really, really want to leave that place behind. The idea of quietly resigning fascinates me even more as my future in truck driving is only 10 weeks away from being my reality. If the image of me drooling like Homer Simpson at the idea of resigning comes to mind, you're not too far off.

Yes, I want to walk out on faith that God will be with me as I study to drive trucks professionally as a full-time student. But reality smacks me in the face when I watch CNN or read articles like the one above or this one about job security. God may want us to walk out on faith in some situations, but I'm sure He doesn't want any of His children to be foolish in this economy. As much as I despise and abhor my job, there are literally thousands (if not millions) of people that would love to sit in my (rather spacious) cubicle, answer the litany of calls and emails from not so bright customers, and earn my rather decent paycheck and benefits. As much as I can't wait to get away from that place, I have to wait and personify the virtue of patience. I must.

After all, the economy has affected so many industries and downsized thousands of employees. Trucking was also affected. So, it would honestly be a decision of tomfoolery to leave now. But I will continue to fantasize about it as I play Megamillions... and endure the next ten weeks of an intense schedule.

Pray for me, people.

What I have in common with Michael Vick

Now may not be the best time every to find what you may have in common with this man. I wanna give him a "Bless his heart," but there's no way I can. I know I've made my fair share of mistakes and bad judgements in life. I haven't been perfect in any way. It would be asinine to expect anyone else to be perfect, even when they're paid very well to be nearly flawless when performing in front of thousands. In that respect, relating to Vick is easy because I still recall being on that step show stage in front of 3,500, and the judges were looking for flawless perfection in our movements, steps, flavor, and personality.

But the difference is I did it for a $2,000 first prize which went directly back to my chapter's treasury. My team's effort was a work of love where we gave our all with unselfishness because we were stepping in the name of our sorority. Dozens of sorors believed in us and showed up to the show, so we had to represent Sigma in the best light possible.

But Mr. Vick.... I just don't understand what motivates anyone to partake in illegal activities that risk your NINE FIGURE contract, the opulent lifestyle you're used to, or your freedom. I love waking up without someone telling me. I love that I can eat what I want when I want it. Upset would not be the word to describe my feelings if I couldn't get behind the wheel and drive. The only person I have to answer to is God, not the warden or that head dude who runs the cell block and wants to try the fresh meat. Personally, the dog fighting was heinous because dogs are wonderful creatures that shouldn't be abused and forced to damn near kill each other for our entertainment. I don't know if Vick should lose his entire eligibility to play football forever over this, but damn, Mike! You gotta pay the consequences because you made some dumb choices. Plain and simple. I wonder if his face looks like that all the time knowing how jacked up things are because he felt that Vick was invincible and would never fall flat on his face.

My dad and I got to arguing about this. My dad is a man that proves Chris Rock right everytime: the most racist person in the world is an old black man. Dad isn't really "old" at 55, but he's seen a lot growing up in middle Georgia and moving to Atlanta as a teen.

"Them crackas set Vick up. They didn't have to do him like that."

I'm looking at Dad like he's crazy. "Why it gotta be white people that set him up? Did they make his dumb ass fight some dogs?"

Dad says, "The white man always trying to bring blacks down, especially blacks with all the money."

I have to admit that in a lot of cases, Dad's theory rings true, but not in this case. His last comment had pissed me off, too. "Well, if Vick has all the money, and he knows someone's looking out for him just because he's black, why the hell would he put a bullseye on his back for them to hit their target? They could turn any little thing he does into a controversy. This dumb ass indulges in a controversial past time that is not a good look to a lot of people. Tell me how the hell white folks set him up for that?"

Dad stopped talking then because that isht was true. I'm just not one of the black folks that blindly supports what someone does because he's black. If you doing some nasty dirt, my name is not going behind it. Just because it's hot in the streets does not mean I have to support it. So just because Vick was making millions on top of millions because he was able to do what he was good at, that doesn't mean I'm going to blindly support his poor decision making skills. I feel the same about Busta Rhymes not cooperating with the police to find who killed his so-called close friend. I sho as hell don't care for Young Joc's song about the "CoffeeShop". Great analogy, but you got a kiddie type hook and melody talking about slanging. Get outta here with that mess!

Nonetheless, Vick should have a fair chance to redeem himself. In the meantime, maybe hundreds of thousands of kids everywhere got some kind of wakeup call from the Vick Debacle. Maybe they actually see that you can't just do any old reckless thing and get away with it. Maybe they finally know that if a famous athlete has consequences for his actions, they'll definitely have to face the music. Maybe they'll closely evaluate their decisions so they won't have to be called "The Biggest Loser" like Vick is right now.

Speaking of "The Biggest Loser", that'll be my title in about 2 months. We're having a "Biggest Loser" contest at our job, and determination has got me focused on being the winner. There's a $400 pot and an IPod Nano for the winner, and even the runner-up will win a Nano. This contest has finally provided the motivation I ned to monitor my eating habits more closely and map out a workout plan that's workable. Walking during a work break and/or lunch has even crept into the plans. It'll be great if the plan works, but good choices have to be made consistently to get the results. A plan means nothing without implementation and execution. So, hopefully, I'll have the "Biggest Loser" label in common with Michael Vick by the third week of October when we officially weigh in again. If I'm not, then I'll just be redeemed with the knowledge that I did my best and didn't hurt anybody including myself with my efforts.

Wish me luck. Pray for Vick.

I have to talk about Michael Vick another time, but we all make jacked up choices

Bless this girl's heart. I might be having a hard time with my love life, but this child has become one of the biggest jokes in a while. I feel badly for her, but it's pure comedy that I came across thanks to me listening to "The Bert Show" rather than my usual Steve Harvey Morning Show.

Just know that Ms. Teen South Carolina was one of the top five finalist in the 2007 Ms Teen USA Pageant, and this is her answer to the question. We all make mistakes, but dang. Hopefully, she'll have to chance to bounce back just like all of us have.



After 10 days of reflection, I have decided I'm on Man Hiatus. This will be my time to bounce back by focusing on me. Who am I really? What do I really want, and how am I going to get it? While I'm reflecting, planning, and taking action, there will be no men involved for an indeterminate amount of time. (Gotta plan that part, too.)

The Man Hiatus will be fine. One of my good friends who is a HS teacher is turning 30 soon, and we both are fed up with the dating situation in Atlanta. Just too many men think that Atlanta is their playground, and women's hearts are their playthings for the momen. The men we're encountering are having issues, and it's too damn late in this life for this silliness. Most of the frustration lies with knowing that we have other girlfriends who are dating, becoming engaged, getting married, and starting their families. Yet, we're two of the thousands of good women who are drama-free, non-manipulative, honest, and sincere women who can't catch a break when it comes to this dating crap.

So, I'm removing myself from this madness for now. I need to get to know me and keep moving forward instead of worrying about when the next guy is coming along. Matter of fact, if the next guy approaches me, I'll have to pass for a while. I know a little voice in my head will whisper, "Are you sure you should pass him up? What if he's THE ONE?" Then, I'll remember all of the guys I gave a sincere chance to, and I'll have to say, "I am the one. If I make me the priority, then the right one will come along." Most importantly, it won't be an urgent matter of dating someone or talking to a guy. If he ever comes along, he'll be a complement to my life, not a requirement or a validation.

Reflections on whatever we had

Whodini - One Love

Posted Nov 07, 2006

To love someone is an atmosphere/

That you both still share when one's not there/

There's no way real it can be explained

.....

It's the way I trust you and you trust me/

I guess some of us are so lucky

Who knew I would be enlightened by Whodini's "One Love" when it came to this thing called "love"? Those lyrics and feelings applied to me and Bones just a few days ago. Now, it's all gone. Funny that the song was playing immediately after I hung up the phone from that effed up phone call. All because he pulled an enormous punk move with a punk decision. No gumption. No courage in this situation. Just had the gall to suggest to me after nearly 3 months, "I hope we can be friends and still hang out from time to time."

Yeah, I took it back to about 1990 when I heard that "proposition". My face contorted into a straight up "Gas Face". Where in the hell does he get off giving me breakup terminology at this point in our friendship? And by this point, we were more than friends...but not officially a couple.

Bones insisted on Wednesday evening that the matter was quite complicated. "I should tell you everything face to face. I owe you that much."

With a painful look on my face like I just smelled someone's after effects of the bean burrito from lunch, "Just spit it out now. You can't leave me hanging like that after suggesting a plain 'friends' situation."

"It's kinda late to talk about it now, but can we meet for drinks or a bite to eat on tomorrow?"

I'm remembering some of the great Rules I've been learning, and I make sure he understands the world doesn't revolve around him. No changes to my schedule just because Bones makes a suggestion. "You know Thursday at 7 PM is Kamick time," I answer as I look forward to the beautiful pain of the weekly step class. "I gotta work out. So how about 9 o'clock at my house? We'll go somewhere from there, and I should be showered and dressed by 9."

Bones agrees, and we get off the phone. So, Thursday comes, I get forced to workout with a substitute for Kamick, which was awful. Only 1/5 of the class actually worked out, and it was such a letdown. I thought that I was tired again, but I was quite slow during the workout because it was boring and repetitive easy crap. Nowhere near Kamick's style. Sad thing is that I had encountered Lazy Lindsay before, and just like the first time I worked out with her, I had no endorphins flowing as I somberly left the gym at 8:01 PM. I knew I couldn't get on a machine to make up for that wack step class because I had to meet with Bones.

I pull into the driveway at 8:33 PM knowing that I might not be ready at exactly 9. I decided to be proactive and check Bones' estimated time of arrival. When he answers, I'm nice about everything in the little chit chat. We're glad that both of us had a decent day at work.

"So, where are you now?" I ask.

"At my cousin's house," he replies.

"And you're on your way to where?"

The man who gets off at 4 PM from his supervisor position at a hospital says, "I haven't been home all day. I was at my cousin's for a while."

I ask again, "And you're on your way to where?"

Bones plainly says, "Home."

I answer with silence because I'm in disbelief. Bones knows my silence speaks volumes. After about 8 seconds, I plainly ask, "Shouldn't you be on your way over here like you said?"

Bones comes with a lame answer: "I have to work tomorrow, and it's getting kinda late."

Now I start to get steamed because we has a face-to-face talk last week, but it wasn't a problem letting me come over to visit late for a talk. When it's his turn to drive, he somehow is much more conscious of the time of day. In my frustration and anxiety, I make a simple request: "Just spit it out then. Why is there suddenly a request to be 'friends' when we were supposedly growing closer in our current friendship?"

This began a long bullisht conversation regarding the previous woman he was dealing with. The story Bones gave to me is that he asked her to move in before he and I started being friendly. He wanted to help her manage her money, which she reportedly has a good deal of because of not one, but two good jobs. After getting to know me better, he claimed he told his previous woman he was no longer interested, and they couldn't be friends because he met someone else he was interested in. But whenever I was over there, there were traces of a woman being there. These articles of clothing and hygienic products were never removed, boxed up, kicked into the closet, covered up, or anything. They just remained as if I never noticed them or brought them to Bones' attention. Well, in our conversation, he finally reveals that the woman was still living there. She just works a lot, so she wasn't being seen because she wasn't coming to the house when I was there.

Bones concludes, "So it'll be hard for you and I to spend time together since she lost one of her jobs. She has no where else to go." Blah. Blah. Mothereffing Blah. More bullisht that doesn't make sense because it wasn't that damn complicated and hard to spend time only days before.

On top of that, the only thing I got from him was a "Happy Birthday" call. I think we might have gone out for my birthday, but he was out of town on vacation (so he claims). He gets back into town, and I get nothing. Over two weeks later, and nothing to recognize my 30th. (Hmm....I didn't even get some cute trinket from his trip, and I never saw pics from the family reunion.) In a way, I feel like I played myself for seeing him and getting nothing when he gets back because I believe I saw him twice after he returned; I didn't have to return after the first visit. I wasn't looking for some gargantuan display of flowers or a tennis bracelet. I just wanted a genuine token of affection or something that shows that the guy I'm interested in is thankful that God saw fit to give me life and then have the two of us cross paths. A birthday card, a gift card, or a simple tulip would have meant something to me. But I got plenty of calls and text messages on my birthday. Therefore, the guy that I'm interested in should be able to step it up and get me something nice. Something special from him that shows that I am definitely special to him.

But that didn't happen. Then, you combine the issue with that other woman (or would that be my title? I'on'know.), and I've been fed a bunch of bull. Three months of bull from the guy that I gave a second chance to, and it all ends in a wack call where all my intuition is confirmed.

He honestly just wasn't that into me. He put on a decent act with it, but I still had suspicions. I don't know what the truth is about the entire matter, but I do know that Bones punked out on me. The easier road was to tell Sunshyne that we should just be friends. Not to deal with the uncomfortable sensation of telling someone that it's completely over. It's just more comfortable to drop the person that you have ridiculous chemistry with. Even as I type this entry, I still don't get what's going on in his head. I think I can read his heart pretty well: he was playing a game. That was what I was thinking for a minute, but it felt so real for so long. It was really special because it was the second time around for us. I was convinced that he couldn't be playing around. This is real.

But he seemed to have a lack of respect for me, and I love myself way more than I like him. Therefore, I can't tolerate such disrespect for my emotions, my concerns, and my being so ready to trust him. That just ain't right, especially when I know I deserve the best.

So, here comes some serious reflection on what went wrong, what could I have done better, what shouldn't I have done at all, and most importantly, what can I do to avoid this situation in the future? I have had a bad habit of not reflecting back, but I'm 30, and this nonsense cannot continue forever. I don't want to be stuck on the idea that love isn't for me. I am too optimistic to stick to the infuriating idea that I can't trust anyone and that the 2' thick brick wall that I'm reconstructing needs to stay up forever. I'll peek through that wall if someone is interested, but I have to be even more careful who I open up to. If I open up, then I have to play the gave carefully to avoid going through the same cycle of bullisht.

Amazingly, my horoscope in the AJC by Jeraldine Saunders on this past Sunday (8/5/07) kinda predicted this. Well, I figured me and Bones being on the outs was just a moment in time, but maybe I didn't let enough time pass by for the horoscope's sage advice:

You might be in the mood for love.

But love might not be in the mood for you

over the next several days.

Tap into creative outlets and hobbies for the best success.

Don't be overly critical of yourself.

When I reflect on that horoscope, my mind is like a Parker Brothers board game: Boggled. I saw it coming and read it clearly knowing that the horoscope was da truth. The horoscope is not a regular part of my Sunday paper reading, so having every word of a horoscope apply to my situation should've been a clue. Honestly, I thought enough time had passed since Sunday, but four days was not enough.

Now, I have to use the last two lines to get through this all. I'm blogging now to tap into my creativity and good use of time. I can't allow my mind to idle and become the Devil's playground, where reminiscing on the good times and incessant questions of why and when about the Bones' behavior pop into my mind over and over. Then, I might be driven to make a poor decision, like calling him for closure. I also need to stop beating myself up. I'm reading that I can be critical of the situation and evaluate myself, but I cannot allow all of the blame to lie with me. I might have been to ready to trust him quickly and begin to fall for him because we had chemistry, but it's not entirely my fault that he thought it was okay to continually disrespect me and my emotions and not find our friendship worthy of "fighting" for.

And that female guard with the gun by that wall? She's been promoted to protecting a 3' thick wall guarding my heart, and she's handily holding a Mossberg.

As I continue to reflect, one conclusion I've come to is I must play the game the way it's meant to be played. No straying from the Rules because I think this guy is different. He won't play me. Eff that. If I play this stupid game, then I might be able to land a reliable, trustworthy man. If I don't call the guy at all, then maybe he'll maintain his interest. In other words, I need that self-discipline that I'm sorely lacking in other areas. I need the discipline to not call a man, to not spend so much time with that man at his house, and to not sleep with him after quite a few weeks. Maybe he'll never get it until we're married. Hell, I sell toys meant to tide a girl over until the next romp in the sheets. I especially need the discipline to cut a guy from my life if he starts trying me for sex way too early in our acquaintance. Thinking and strategizing have been a part of my plans before, but sticking to the planned strategy will be necessary in the future because I don't plan on being an old maid.