Yvonne-a-Palooza -and so it begins...

Happy Monday bloggies!  How was everyone's weekend? Great? Good!  One week from today and by God's grace, I will be celebrating my 45th birthday!  Yes that's right, I'm that old!  As is customary in my world, I start celebrating the last week of September and the entire month of October! Too much? Eh, what is too much celebration anyway?  Plus, I'm still young (in my mind anyway) and still terribly cute! What more could I ask for?  So to start off my birthday week, I thought I'd tell y'all about this one time at band camp... KIDDING!  Seriously, I thought I'd share one of my favorite birthday memories. I guess I love the hype leading up to the big day and the celebrating that ensues because as a kid, my mom would always make a big production.  Sure, it may have had something to do with the fact that it was also her birthday, ( I was her 21st birthday gift) but nevertheless, a BIG deal!  I turned 9, and my dad used to work at a Golf/Resort in Conroe.  There was a huge skating rink on the property.  I begged my parents to let me have a skating party there. "We can't afford that place, let's just go to the neighborhood skating rink" was my mom's response.  My dad on the other hand, set a plan in motion.  Since he worked at the restaurant there, he "knew" people. So somehow, some way, my daddy made it so that not only did we get the entire rink to ourselves and our guests for a few hours, but there were clowns, and cake and ice cream, and balloons, lots of balloons on that day.  I was a very happy little girl.  But I think what makes it even more memorable today, is recalling the look of happiness in my mom and dad's eyes, for being able to make me so happy.  It was awesome! 

That was mine, what's a favorite of yours?

It's a new week! Make a FABULOUS one! :)

Bust a Rhyme -sorta

Thank you to everyone who commented and/or sent me an email in light of my last post.  I am fine. I'm better.  And tomorrow is another day.  I do appreciate all the love and support I have received from you, I truly am a lucky girl!  I've not been in the mood to write much lately. At least not in this blog or with any of my stories.  Mostly I've just been writing sappy poetry or my version of poetry. heh.  And I've been writing it in Spanish.  It's such a romantic and sensual language.  I think so anyway.  I'm in that mood.  That mood that is passionate and craving love.  I'm a big romantic softie.  And since I've no one in my life presently to share it with, I write it down instead.  At least I'm writing, right?  Right.  So anyway, other than life reminding me that everything is not always "sunshine and roses", I've been working pretty long hours at the office  and neglecting the gym.  And maybe even me.  I dunno, sometimes it's better to disconnect completely from myself, from others and just focus on things that do not require any emotion.  Does that makes sense?  I hope so, because I'm not really sure how to explain myself in a way that you'll understand.  I'm a jumble of coherent incoherent words.  See?  I'm babbling now.

I guess that's my cue to bust out the poetry. Here it is, first in Spanish and then the English version.

Enjoy! (I hope)

Besame
Acaricia mi boca
con la tuya

Toma mi mano
llevame al cielo
una y otra vez

Bailemos al ritmo de nuestros corazones
Sonriendo el uno al otro
Felicidad iluminando  nuestros rostros

Besame la vida

________________________________

Kiss me
Caress my mouth
with yours

Take my hand
lead me to heaven
over and over again
Where dance to the rhythm of our hearts
Smiling at one another
Happiness illuminating our faces

Kiss my life.

...

So I'm not really in a creative mood.  Hence, the lack of a title for this post.  Apologies.  I'm just down in the dumps.  Alright, topic for tonight?  The matter of friendship.  That's what's been weighing heavily on my heart lately.  What is your definition of a "friend" ? We all know there are great ones out there! Lucy and Ethel, Bert and Ernie, Laverne and Shirley, Laurel and Hardy, and well you get the picture right?  I'm asking because I've realized that perhaps my definition is a bit skewed. Some people come into your life for only a moment and then leave once their "purpose" is met.  There are others who come to you  in the guise of a "friend" and use you to their advantage (if you let them) and then when they are done, they will discard you like trash. Yet there are others that truly mean something to you and those friendships last a lifetime.  I have friends I've known since kindergarten and am still friends with today.  My friendship with the *Musketeers is a relationship that I treasure with all of my heart.  Friends are supposed to be there to support you, to pick you up after you've fallen, to slap the crap out of you if you deserve it or to help you slap the crap out of someone else if they deserve it.  They become an extension of who you are.  I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I want to believe that everyone has some good in them. In short, I guess I set myself up every.single.time. The thing is, I don't take my relationships lightly. Platonic or otherwise.  When I give, I give 110% of me, without a second thought.  Is that wrong? Someone very close to me has hurt me really bad.  So much so that I'm kind of in "mourning" for the demise of what I thought was a solid relationship.  Yeah, the joke's on me.  I've wrote about it, I've prayed about it, I've even cried about it.  And you know what? The only conclusion I can come up with, is that he was a jerk.  He was a liar. He was a master manipulator.   A friendship is based on trust.  My relationship with *Gustabo came at a time in my life when I truly needed someone.  And so did he.  We hit it off, we started getting to know each other, trepidly at first, as trust was a major issue for both of us.  But through the course of a few months, we were soon inseparable and each other's most loudest cheerleader.  I trusted him blindly and stood by him in good times and in bad.  We both did.  I was blessed.  I thanked God for sending him to me.  Apparently, I was a just a means to an end for him.  And everything we shared, was a joke.  On me.  Do you have any idea how that feels?  I am so angry that I fell for it so easily! I fell for it over and over and over again!  But in spite of that, it was an eye-opener for me.  And how I treat the people that are allowed in my inner circle.  This experience will not break me.  It may knock me down for a while.  It may make me sad for a long time.  But it will not break me.  I am a good person. I did not deserve this.  But it is what it is.   Do I  miss him? I miss him every day.  And it aches in my heart, a little bit more each time.  It's been almost two weeks, but I'm just now dealing with my emotions.  I had not wanted to face them. Kinda hard to do with them staring you back in the face!  Ugh! Time to move on.

So it's Sunday night guys! What's going on?  How was the weekend for y'all?  It rained here finally! Real rain too, not that pesky 5 minute crap! It still needs to rain more, so if y'all have any pull with Mother Nature, tell her Houston is still really, really, really thirsty!

Alright, you know the drill.  Monday's on deck, make it a great week!

Cats Ain't Got Nothin On Me!

My guardian angel must love me to death!  What other explanation could there be for my life-saver protecting me from harm and loss (due to my carelessness).  Either that or I think I may have been a cat in a former life. Why? Because it seems I've got nine lives and more to spare! And just so you know, I loathe cats! Sorry feline lovers, but I just can't stand them. Don't hate me. Still confused? Read on:

A few years ago I worked downtown for a law firm. One rainy morning, I parked my car in a parking lot adjacent to the builiding.  I was running late for work (sheddup) and hastily made a mad dash in the rain to the building.  Come lunch time, I tear my office apart looking for my keys.  On the verge of tears, I walk to my car hoping that the keys are inside.  Uh, no, they're not inside, they're outside, on the door, in the key hole.  WTF??? Now, tell me that's not divine intervention.  I basically left my car up for grabs to anyone who spotted my car and the keys.

Another time I was having Sunday Funday at a local pub with the Three Musketeers (http://yvonne-writingmylifeaway.blogspot.com/2010/09/dolce-vita.html) when we decided to leave that establishment for another location.  Off we went, when I realized my keys were not in my purse. Frantically, I call the previous venue where we had been and the bartender told me that he indeed, had my keys. Relief!

Just last week, I went to the deli in our building, I had my wallet in one hand and my phone in the other.  When it was time to pick up my order, I placed both wallet and phone on the ledge. But only picked up my wallet  and whisked off back to the office.  Luckily, the owner of the deli, knows me and called the office to tell me I had forgotten something. 

And today, today I left for lunch. My mind was a million miles away going a thousand miles an hour.  I stepped into the elevator, caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirrors and decided to try and fix it. I placed my phone down, again on the small ledge, and walked out when the elevator doors opened.  My phone stayed behind.  An hour later, while driving back to work, I realize my "faithful companion" aka "the phone", was nowhere to be found.  Panic set in and I began praying.  "Please God, let me find my phone!"  When I got inside the building, I went straight to the security guard's desk and asked him if anyone had turned in a phone.  I told him of my pathetic story and he just smiled at me.  I know my story was kind of funny, in a sick kind of way, but smiling at me only made me feel worse.  And then, he looked down at his desk and held up a phone.  MY phone.  "This what you're looking for?"  OMG!  I was so relieved and happy, I went around the desk and gave him a big hug!  He blushed and said that someone had turned it in. Which totally restored my faith in the belief that there are still honest people out there.

So, NOW do you see why my guardian angel rocks? And why I think I may have been a cat in another lifetime?

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some "giving back" to do!

Once Upon a Time...

It's Friday peeps! Do something fun and laugh a lot!  Oh yeah, and check out this old post I wrote a while back. http://yvonne-writingmylifeaway.blogspot.com/2007/08/it-hit-me-tonight-like-ton-of-bricks.html
I participated in Red-Writing-Hood's prompt this week. The prompt was Heartbreak.  Now that's a subject I am a MASTER in!   Don't believe me? Read my blog!

Be good!

You

Shattered
Disappointment
Loss
Anger
Clarity
you bring all of this out of me
you force me to face the truth
what everyone saw
except me
until now

Retrospective -September 11, 2001

Ten years and I can still remember vividly, as if it happened yesterday. I can remember listening to the car radio as the announcers said something had just come across the AP wire, about an "object" hitting one of the towers in New York.  I remember my immediate thought was, "What idiot was flying his plane so low!?"  And then came the dreaded news, this was no joke, we were under attack.  I sped to work and rushed in to find some of my  coworkers gathered around a small television set, watching in disbelief.  It was so surreal.  I can still remember how scared, worried, and very frightened I became. The drive home from work was eerily quiet and still.  It was as if time had stopped for us and we were all scrambling to get to our destination to see our families and loved ones, to try and make sense of what had happened.  Someone had taken over our country that day and dropped us to our knees. I never felt so violated and helpless as I did that day.  I never felt more proud to be an American, living in this great country, faults and all, as I did in the days after the tragedy.  People from all over the country, all walks of life came together, strangers, families, friends, all working together to help one another, to help, period.  Everyone was eager to do something, anything, to contribute in some way.  Ten years later, I still smell grieving and fear, but also determination, reaffirmation, that the United States is strong, and free and resilient.

Always remember!

A date, is a date, is a date...

Where do I begin? So much to say, so little time… Alright, so last night I was over at my friend Simona’s house. She’d invited me to go over for some girl talk, dinner and of course, wine. Duh! Vino is always invited! There we were, Simona, her roommate Francine, and me. Dinner was delish! So while chit-chatting about our week, and reveling in the fact that it was the beginning of the weekend, we started discussing, what else? Men.  Simona gleefully shared with us that she had a date tomorrow night with a guy she met at Chic Fil A. Chic-Fil-freakin A!!! How does that even happen??? Anyway, Francine goes on to tell us how it went down and that she’s already had lunch with him and tomorrow will be their first official date. The story goes like this, she was eating, he spotted her but was on his way out. Actually got in his car and left, only to return minutes later, with the hope she was still there so he could muster up the courage to talk to her. Which she was, and he did, and the rest as they say, is history. Cute story huh? Well, it was, until Simona decided to divulge a little sumptin sumptin that Francine had conveniently forgotten to share with me.

“He wants to come over and wash her hair.” Simona spilled.

“Whaaat?” I replied laughing.

“Yeah, he told her he wanted to come over and wash her hair.”

I looked at Francine and she was taking a sip of her wine and avoiding eye contact with me. But she had a big silly grin on her face.

“Y’all are bullshitting with me right?”

“No it’s true. He wants to come run his hands through my hair and shampoo and condition it.”

At this point we were all dying with laughter. The kind of laughter that hurts our stomachs but feels too good to stop.

“Let me get this straight, some guy you just met, have been talking to for what? A week? Just says he wants to come shampoo your hair?”

Francine, who is African-American, replied, “Yes. It’s a very sensual and intimate gesture. And common in our culture.” She sounded so proud too.

I don't know if it's a culture thing or not.  I just know that it's weird.  To me.  Now, I’ve had men want to do things for me, things like buy me a car, a house, take me on trips, you know, stuff like that. Never. Ever. Have I had any man ever offer me to wash my hair!

“Um, yeah I guess, but personally, it would freak me the hell out!” I replied.

But then, because that wasn’t funny enough, Simona blurts out, “Wait, here’s the best part…”

Opening a new bottle of wine, I look at her, waiting for the closer.

She leans in over the table, and almost in a whisper says, “He is a hair products salesman!”

I swear you could hear the laughter erupting in the house from miles away.  We laughed for a long, long, time. 

There was nothing left to do after that lovely story, but to toast to it!  Cheers!

Long ago...

This week I participated int RemembeRED's writing prompt.  We are to write about a memory growing up.  See: http://writeonedge.com/2011/09/remembered-childhood/?

This was my contribution:

I miss my childhood.  I was  the oldest of four, I remember always playing the “grown-up.”  Sometimes for fun and sometimes not for fun.  Our parents worked a lot, A LOT.  Sometimes around the clock, so we, the  children, were often times left with relatives and babysitters.  When we were older and able to stay home alone, they left us to fend for ourselves.  Let me just say that we should all be owners of Burger King by now, as often as we were customers there!. What can I say? Mine was not the "stay at home" kind of mom.  She would ocassionally cook for us and leave it in the oven for us to reheat when we got home, but due to time constraints with her two jobs, she wasn't always able to do this.  So BK is was! Besides, it was close, convenient and cheap.  I used to get angry at my parents for working so much.  For giving me the responsibility of watching over my brothers and sister, when I was not much older than they were.  I was bathing them, and making sure homework was done and that they ate dinner.  As we got older, the responsibilities changed, and instead of bathing them, I had to make sure they weren’t out in the streets after dark or at a neighbor’s house.  My mom didn’t allow us to go over anyone’s house without her permission or her knowing who they were personally.  We were also not allowed to have anyone over  when neither of my parents were home.  This put a damper on my siblings’ engaging personalities!  They were/still are social butterflies!  I know the parentals  meant well and it was because of their sacrifices that we never went without, and were able to attend private  schools from kindergarten until high school.  They wanted nothing but the best education for us.  And they saw to it that we got it.  But all the while, even now, I feel this tinge of resentment and loss.  I didn’t have a “normal” childhood.  I grew up much too fast.  And I carried a lot on my shoulders since I was twelve years old.  Still, my parents are amazing people and I love them to death. 

But I miss my childhood.

Getting Out Of MY Way

It has been said that we are our own worst enemy.  I believe this to be true.  Why else would I sabotage my relationships, platonic, romantic, family, friends? What other explanation could there be? For years now, I have been known to stand in my own way of getting ahead, taking the leap (whatever “leap” it may be at that time), facing myself, my truths, owning who I am. It is almost as if I am running away, but at the same time, holding myself captive to moving to the next level. I am a big talker, a dreamer, a procrastinator. The world is passing me by and I am just sitting on the sidelines, watching it. Why? Why do I constantly do that? I do it all constantly. In my career, with my writing, with my goals.  That's why I was so proud of finishing that boot camp a few months ago.  It seems I start projects all the time, but never finish them.  What am I so afraid of? Failing? Succeeding? Both?

What is it that drives us to do what we do?

I watched a Lifetime movie today, I don’t remember the name of it but watching it was like looking at myself in a mirror. And as we all know, mirrors don't lie.  The truth hurts, we all know this. No one wants to face it, but we all kind of have to eventually. Or not, and then get stuck in a permanent case of déjà vu, as is what happened to the character of the movie I watched. Luckily, that character was able to figure it out before she lost everything. In the end, she wised up and emerged a success, but more importantly, she fought for herself and reclaimed her life.

Before we can move on, or get the ball rolling, whatever the case, we must first learn to face the truth. Look into that mirror and face ourselves, see ourselves for what we are, what we have become and what we have yet to be. And then figure out why.  Why are we stalling?  Because life is not going to stop. It’s not going to go back and let you start over. All we have is right now. What I did earlier today even, that’s gone now. It’s passed. I have now, to practice what I preach, to walk the walk, as it were.

Do you? Have what it takes to do the same? Or will your life stay in limbo?

More than anything, I wrote this for me, to hold myself accountable.  I am my own worst enemy.  I need to conquer my fears of failure that engulf me.  And I'm asking you to join me in my journey.  I promise you, if nothing else, it will be humorous.  And who doesn't love a funneh?

As I stated earlier, I talk a good talk! But I’m running out of time. I need to walk that walk! I know that it will take a lot of trial and error and a lot of determination for my life to go the way I dream it should go. I think that if I can do it, so can you. It’s a choice. Do or die

We’re worth it don’t you think?

To Thine Own Self Be True...

This week I decided to do this: http://writeonedge.com/2011/09/red-writing-hood-seasons-of-change/ so please, go here and check this out: http://yvonne-writingmylifeaway.blogspot.com/2010/08/when-i-was-little-and-then-not-so.html  and let me know what you think!

Thirsty Thursday got the best of me.  I'm outta here.

Peace.