Have you ever been driving or riding on the road, highway or byway and wondered the story behind the skid marks that lead to GOD knows where? Thinking to yourself, what the hell happened in that situation? What were they doing? Could they have survived going off that cliff? Wondering what the fate was of that skid mark maker. Skid marks tell a story…
Was she looking down on the floor for a ringing cell phone?
Did he have a little too much to drink?
Was she trying to avoid that person that had a little too much to drink?
Was that text message really worth sending?
Was he wearing a seatbelt?
Were the driving conditions too bad to drive in?
Did the constant cry of a child cause her to look back to see what was wrong?
Was the oncoming car in his lane?
Were they a fugitive of the law?
Did that light look green?
Did that deer not heed the flashing of the bright lights?
Did she really need to go that fast to get there?
Was he just not paying attention?
What was his blood alcohol level?
Did they try to break while hydroplaning?
Did she really think she could eat AND drive?
ROAD RAGE?
Whatever the story behind the skid mark, let us not forget the maker. According to the National Car Accidents Statistics, there are more than six million car accidents in the United States. A person will die every twelve minutes as a result of a car accident. That means by the time I finish writing this post, someone will have died. Just remember your decisions on the road not only effects you but they also effect every other driver who left home and prayed for safe travels. Let's work to make 2011 a safer year on the road.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
35X35 ...
35. Meet Jennifer Lopez (Don't judge me)
34. Blog monthly, if not weekly
33. Learn to make a full Thanksgiving dinner
32. Give up diet coke, hell, I am not on a diet :-)
31. Buy a property in Los Angeles
30. Get pilots license
29. Stop cursing, swearing, using foul language (even when no other word seems to fit)
28. Have one (1) child and one (1) in the oven
27. Get back to high school weight after baby comes out of the oven
26. Have a big yard sale
25. Go deep sea fishing
24. Write a song
23. Visit 10 more states (NM, MI, WI, IA, UT, CO, WA, OR, SD, ND)
22. Try a lace front wig (Don't judge me)
21. Join the mile high club (Don't judge me)
20. Learn to speak Chinese
19. Do 1000 hours of community service for different charities
18. Visit the Wendy Williams show
17. Charter a yacht, well a boat, balling on a budget
16. Not cut my hair
15. Monthly dinner parties with friends
14. Acquire enough sky miles to fly free overseas
13. Donate to one of the commercials for starving children
12. Launch my non-profit (Fully Covered)
11. Talk more than text
10. Take my husband horse back riding
9. Buy out of nece.... necessi.... necessity, whew that was a hard one
8. Tithe regularly
7. Pray daily
6. Take a cooking class, preferably a sushi making class
5. Mend a friendship
4. Say 'Happy New Year' in Times Square
3. Right any wrongs
2. Try not to go to bed angry
1. Patent my invention idea
34. Blog monthly, if not weekly
33. Learn to make a full Thanksgiving dinner
32. Give up diet coke, hell, I am not on a diet :-)
31. Buy a property in Los Angeles
30. Get pilots license
29. Stop cursing, swearing, using foul language (even when no other word seems to fit)
28. Have one (1) child and one (1) in the oven
27. Get back to high school weight after baby comes out of the oven
26. Have a big yard sale
25. Go deep sea fishing
24. Write a song
23. Visit 10 more states (NM, MI, WI, IA, UT, CO, WA, OR, SD, ND)
22. Try a lace front wig (Don't judge me)
21. Join the mile high club (Don't judge me)
20. Learn to speak Chinese
19. Do 1000 hours of community service for different charities
18. Visit the Wendy Williams show
17. Charter a yacht, well a boat, balling on a budget
16. Not cut my hair
15. Monthly dinner parties with friends
14. Acquire enough sky miles to fly free overseas
13. Donate to one of the commercials for starving children
12. Launch my non-profit (Fully Covered)
11. Talk more than text
10. Take my husband horse back riding
9. Buy out of nece.... necessi.... necessity, whew that was a hard one
8. Tithe regularly
7. Pray daily
6. Take a cooking class, preferably a sushi making class
5. Mend a friendship
4. Say 'Happy New Year' in Times Square
3. Right any wrongs
2. Try not to go to bed angry
1. Patent my invention idea
Married to the family....
As the saying goes, when you decide to get married, you not only marry the man, but you marry his mom, dad, sister, brother and all of the family drama and gossip one can stand. My cousin and I have been talking recently about being married to the family and how people sometimes give family a permanent spot in the bed of marriage.
When you think about it, it's almost impossible not to huh?!?!? Rhetorical. I mean who wouldn't want to climb the family tree that has either caused your spouse to either be a hard-working, stand-up man or an insensitive grudge-holding bastard. Either way, this is now your family. So here is a story:
Once upon a time there lived a mean mother-in-law who was just angry at the world. If you spoke to her, she cursed, if you looked at her, she cursed and don't you dare think about smiling at her because guess what she will do? Curse. Why is she so angry you ask? Well it all began 28 years ago when she gave up her life to birth her son. And boy was she living the life, you know the 1960's were the good ole days. People called it the rolling 60's and that's what she did, rolled. She rolled in designer clothes, designer cars and rolled her fancy self all the way to a full scholarship at her favorite university. She was on cloud nine until she met this slick talking Georgia man. I mean he was slick as ice. He could talk a preacher out of preaching and a nun into sexing. He was just that slick. After several months of courting, she allowed this slick talking Georgia man to rest upon her bossom. Not thinking that these actions would soon change her life.
Two hundred and seventy five days later, she gave birth to a child that she would soon be calling a little slick talking Georgia boy. At first things were okay, she was able to put away enough savings that her lavish lifestyle didn't suffer, but all that was short lived. Things got hard, she became depressed, alcohol became her friend. Because that slick talking Georgia man didn't stay in her life, she allowed other men to come and go and do as they pleased. A black eye here, swollen lip there, thump, there went her head against the wall. Little slick talking Georgia boy didn't understand why his mom didn't do anything, why she allowed these men to take advantage of her. But his juvenile mind just couldn't comprehend. He also didn't understand how things went from just him and mom to him, mom, little sister, little sister, little brother, little brother. Damn, six mouths to feed on minimum wage.
To be continued....
When you think about it, it's almost impossible not to huh?!?!? Rhetorical. I mean who wouldn't want to climb the family tree that has either caused your spouse to either be a hard-working, stand-up man or an insensitive grudge-holding bastard. Either way, this is now your family. So here is a story:
Once upon a time there lived a mean mother-in-law who was just angry at the world. If you spoke to her, she cursed, if you looked at her, she cursed and don't you dare think about smiling at her because guess what she will do? Curse. Why is she so angry you ask? Well it all began 28 years ago when she gave up her life to birth her son. And boy was she living the life, you know the 1960's were the good ole days. People called it the rolling 60's and that's what she did, rolled. She rolled in designer clothes, designer cars and rolled her fancy self all the way to a full scholarship at her favorite university. She was on cloud nine until she met this slick talking Georgia man. I mean he was slick as ice. He could talk a preacher out of preaching and a nun into sexing. He was just that slick. After several months of courting, she allowed this slick talking Georgia man to rest upon her bossom. Not thinking that these actions would soon change her life.
Two hundred and seventy five days later, she gave birth to a child that she would soon be calling a little slick talking Georgia boy. At first things were okay, she was able to put away enough savings that her lavish lifestyle didn't suffer, but all that was short lived. Things got hard, she became depressed, alcohol became her friend. Because that slick talking Georgia man didn't stay in her life, she allowed other men to come and go and do as they pleased. A black eye here, swollen lip there, thump, there went her head against the wall. Little slick talking Georgia boy didn't understand why his mom didn't do anything, why she allowed these men to take advantage of her. But his juvenile mind just couldn't comprehend. He also didn't understand how things went from just him and mom to him, mom, little sister, little sister, little brother, little brother. Damn, six mouths to feed on minimum wage.
To be continued....
Here sits a tear...
No mommy, please don't go, please don't leave me all by myself. I am only eight years old, how am I going to get through my life without the person who gave me life in the first place. Why are you just laying there? Why are you not breathing? What are those needles beside you? Why do I hear sirens? Why is no one doing anything? WHY?
Eight days later you were pronounced dead and that was the last time I saw you, the last image in my head was you laying there lifeless, breathless and cold.
Dear Mommy,
I thought writing this would help me with your loss, but it hasn't gotten any easier. As a matter of fact, I am crying as the thoughts come to my head. Every key stroke is met with a tear. Here, on my computer sits a tear. Twenty-one years later and I still think of you daily and cry weekly. Will it ever get any easier? I just wanted to write you a letter and tell you how much I miss you but those feeling of missing you are being met with anger. It hurts me to my core to think that I will be getting married in a month and a half and you will not be there. It hurts me to think that the man I am marrying will one day be the father of a child that you will never meet. It hurts me that I am upset with you. It hurts me that I sometimes question GOD's decision to take you. It hurts me to think that you had to be high in order to celebrate Keith's birthday. It hurts me that you didn't think of us while you were getting high. It hurts me to think that the things that I am saying would hurt you.
I just don't understand. Was life not worth more? Were we not more important than that feeling only cocaine could give you? Was the high a better feeling than seeing your children one more day? Was it worth leaving this earth when we still had so many unanswered questions? I can't help asking you these things mommy because I am still hurt, I still cry and I still don't understand. Are you happy? Are you happy that I have fears of becoming a mom? Fears of leaving my child in the same f*cked up mind state that you left me. Fears that my child will too be angry with me when I have to meet GOD. Fears that maybe my child will experiment with the little white devil, make it their best friend and too lay lifeless on a floor. Fears that every time I write you, I will be angry.
Until next time,
Your angry and confused daughter
Eight days later you were pronounced dead and that was the last time I saw you, the last image in my head was you laying there lifeless, breathless and cold.
Dear Mommy,
I thought writing this would help me with your loss, but it hasn't gotten any easier. As a matter of fact, I am crying as the thoughts come to my head. Every key stroke is met with a tear. Here, on my computer sits a tear. Twenty-one years later and I still think of you daily and cry weekly. Will it ever get any easier? I just wanted to write you a letter and tell you how much I miss you but those feeling of missing you are being met with anger. It hurts me to my core to think that I will be getting married in a month and a half and you will not be there. It hurts me to think that the man I am marrying will one day be the father of a child that you will never meet. It hurts me that I am upset with you. It hurts me that I sometimes question GOD's decision to take you. It hurts me to think that you had to be high in order to celebrate Keith's birthday. It hurts me that you didn't think of us while you were getting high. It hurts me to think that the things that I am saying would hurt you.
I just don't understand. Was life not worth more? Were we not more important than that feeling only cocaine could give you? Was the high a better feeling than seeing your children one more day? Was it worth leaving this earth when we still had so many unanswered questions? I can't help asking you these things mommy because I am still hurt, I still cry and I still don't understand. Are you happy? Are you happy that I have fears of becoming a mom? Fears of leaving my child in the same f*cked up mind state that you left me. Fears that my child will too be angry with me when I have to meet GOD. Fears that maybe my child will experiment with the little white devil, make it their best friend and too lay lifeless on a floor. Fears that every time I write you, I will be angry.
Until next time,
Your angry and confused daughter
thirtysomething...
I am thirtysomething and I can't believe it. I am probably having a hard time dealing with it because who would have ever thought that in 2010, thirtysomething would be looked at as onehundredandsomething. If you aren't getting asked why you are not married, then certainly you have heard why don't you have any children. And if you have ever stumbled upon those brave enough to blurt the "Are you gay" question, well then you are doing great. I am not sure why being a thirtysomething career minded, independent and strong black female should garner such questions. Would people rather me be married, breast feeding my newborn while my two three year olds are either eating dirt or digging in their nose complaining that my husband is always working late? I am just not ready for that. I think the decision to be married and have kids should not be the topic of discussion during every holiday gathering.
To me, being thirtysomething is the time where yes, my career does come first, yes, I would like to own a starter home that doesn't have a nursery, yes, I would like to be able to say that I have lived in more zip codes than the average postman delivers to in a day, yes, getting out of my car at the gas station without thinking twice about a little person in back seat, yes, being domestic, cooking daily, washing clothes weekly, mommy and me monthly, daddy and me quarterly and 1st, 2nd and 3rd birthday's yearly. YES, I am happy being thirtysomething and living my life. YES, I am happy to get myself together before becoming one. YES, I would rather start a college fund for an unborn child than cry about daycare for a born child. YES, YES, YES.
I would like to redefine thirtysomething and hope that I have... I am normal, you, the ones who probably should have waited until thirtysomething are not!
To me, being thirtysomething is the time where yes, my career does come first, yes, I would like to own a starter home that doesn't have a nursery, yes, I would like to be able to say that I have lived in more zip codes than the average postman delivers to in a day, yes, getting out of my car at the gas station without thinking twice about a little person in back seat, yes, being domestic, cooking daily, washing clothes weekly, mommy and me monthly, daddy and me quarterly and 1st, 2nd and 3rd birthday's yearly. YES, I am happy being thirtysomething and living my life. YES, I am happy to get myself together before becoming one. YES, I would rather start a college fund for an unborn child than cry about daycare for a born child. YES, YES, YES.
I would like to redefine thirtysomething and hope that I have... I am normal, you, the ones who probably should have waited until thirtysomething are not!
A thank you is in order...
Who would have ever thunk it??? Here I sit, inspired by the sometimes uninspired. I always wondered how I could write poetry but could not formulate those same thoughts to write a blog…
It’s just a matter of organizing the millions of thoughts running around in your head. So today, instead of doing work for a moment, I decided to read facebook posts. I swear, facebook is going to be the end of a good paying job for someone, smile. And speaking of facebook, I would like for the dictionary to finally recognize this ingenious idea, so that the little red lines disappear.
THANK YOU!!!
Back to what I was saying, so I was on facebook and I stumbled upon a person’s page whom I once adored, hated, liked, admired and then hated again…. As I read her blog updates, I thought to myself, wow, what a talented writer, interesting posts with a bit of humor, clever… With her rants and raves about inspiration, life lessons, bullshit, bullshit, I became inspired. Now who am I kidding, this is not going to be the start of the next best blog as I am stretched way too thin as it is. But it is nice to be able to vent in a public forum from time to time, so once again I say…
THANK YOU!!!
Now there is a quote about something being deserved, required, much, something of that sort, can’t think of the quote and personally don’t feel like googling it… OMG, is googling not a word either, WTF!!! LOL… Okay, but seriously… The quote in summary states that you must give credit when inspiration in any form is stumbled upon and so I ponder, should I thank her. Do I send an email thanking her for doing what I knew I could do anyway? Do I send a facebook message, ugh, the red lines, telling her that I am inspired by her writing and now I too want to post to my new blog every now and then? Well, I could just hope that she too stumbles upon my post and ends up reading my blog, where she will be welcomed by a post dedicated to her called….
THANK YOU!!!
It’s just a matter of organizing the millions of thoughts running around in your head. So today, instead of doing work for a moment, I decided to read facebook posts. I swear, facebook is going to be the end of a good paying job for someone, smile. And speaking of facebook, I would like for the dictionary to finally recognize this ingenious idea, so that the little red lines disappear.
THANK YOU!!!
Back to what I was saying, so I was on facebook and I stumbled upon a person’s page whom I once adored, hated, liked, admired and then hated again…. As I read her blog updates, I thought to myself, wow, what a talented writer, interesting posts with a bit of humor, clever… With her rants and raves about inspiration, life lessons, bullshit, bullshit, I became inspired. Now who am I kidding, this is not going to be the start of the next best blog as I am stretched way too thin as it is. But it is nice to be able to vent in a public forum from time to time, so once again I say…
THANK YOU!!!
Now there is a quote about something being deserved, required, much, something of that sort, can’t think of the quote and personally don’t feel like googling it… OMG, is googling not a word either, WTF!!! LOL… Okay, but seriously… The quote in summary states that you must give credit when inspiration in any form is stumbled upon and so I ponder, should I thank her. Do I send an email thanking her for doing what I knew I could do anyway? Do I send a facebook message, ugh, the red lines, telling her that I am inspired by her writing and now I too want to post to my new blog every now and then? Well, I could just hope that she too stumbles upon my post and ends up reading my blog, where she will be welcomed by a post dedicated to her called….
THANK YOU!!!
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