2013 Resolution

I’m putting this in writing.

Not because my soul is aching for it, but because I read a book that said in order to realize ones goals, one must actually see them.

I’ve lost my way.

Word counts became too high, books got too wordy and the romance in words became lost in acronyms.

IDK, sometimes I wonder what’s the point?

No one feels words anymore.

I too have fallen victim to the unpersonalized world of speed language.

In an OH EM GEE world, the pen was replaced.

My goal is to revitalize my burning desire to feel the syllables.

I will become familiar with the feeling of pen on paper… fingers on a keyboard.

I will grovel to the undying glory of verbage and find my way back to its familiar camaraderie.

I will accept the title of Writer/Poet/Blogger.

My heart shall once again bleed the words unspoken.

For I am Pathetic.


(to be posted on my poetry library https://pathetic.org/library/6371)

Louis CK has a show!!

I love comedies. Even more though, I love stand up comedy. There's this dude named Louis CK. Super funny comedian, or at least I like to think so. His comedy focuses on his family and how he copes with lifes issues after a divorce. His comedy tends to be morbid at times. It's like your half expecting him to hang himself in a hilarious way right before he puts the mic down.

He has a couple of stand up specials, my favorite being Chewed Up (2008) and Hilarious (2009) BOTH are available on Netflix (which is quickly starting to fade in popularity, but that's for another day). Both of those specials made me a fan. I think I caught Chewed Up one night on Comedy Central. It was the edited version, of course, but I thought he was funny. It's kind of like the way I discovered Dane Cook. (Love me some late night Comedy Central viewing). Anywho, I just found out that he was a show on FX called Louie. It's a show that makes me sad in a happy way. I am REALLY late in discovering this show, apparently it's been on since 2010. Not only has it been on, but it's been nominated for many awards, including an Emmy. Season three is scheduled to air on FX network on June 28, 2012!

Ok, so late is an understatement. I finally caught up on season one and there were a couple of episodes that were hard to watch. Hard but not impossible, as I kept laughing along the way. (Season Two I'M COMING FOR YOU!!!) The episodes really don't follow any certain story line. It's all over the place and if you are expecting something, then don't. Watch each episode for what it is, a half hour of pure hilarity.

"I'm the guy that women see and they go UGH, and I'm like I know but let me just talk to you for a minute." The one reoccuring theme flowing through the show is that he is a self depreciating, raunchy, demoralized version of Seinfeld. He touches on everything from being divorced, awkward dating habits, feeling lonely, raising two girls and trying to make a career fro himself.

In truth, Louie, as a character never seems to grow. he is stuck in the same never ending depression tornado. The storm clouds hover over his shiny bald head and he stares up and laughs at it and continues to walk in the storm. Louie is a survivor. He is the proof that for some people Murphy's Law is a birth right.

There's an episode where he, at the age of 42, is being bullied by a high school punk while on a date. He walks away from a potential fight with a kid. His date seems horrified. When he asks her about it, she tells him "my mind is telling me you are a great guy, but my chemistry is telling me that you're a loser."

Sometimes our instints lie. Maybe, just maybe, our minds are trying to guide us in the right direction. My mind is telling me to continue to watch, because I want to see Louie's character continue to suffer and laugh at all his pain. It's not always about what situation you are in, but how you cope with it. It's about how you react to that situation and find some laughter in it. Louie is a fighter and when he can't take it anymore he grabs a microphone and for a couple of minutes, it's ok.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some catching up to do. Season three is only a couple of days away!!!

I finally did it...

I thought about it day in and day out. It was almost an obsession. I continued to look at myself in the mirror and wonder why. Here I was a couple of pounds lighter and I still looked the same way I did at the age of twenty-three. At what point was I going to become an adult? At what age was I going to start living the life of a real woman enjoying her thirties?

I wondered what it would look like, if I would like it, could I manage it? There were many questions lined up to knock me down, but the desire was still there. When the desire is there and the nagging feeling of "I need this" is looming in the distance, there is no stopping you. I sat down and discussed things with my other half and he finally convinced me to do it. "It's what you want to do. So what if you don't like it, it will grow back." He was right. 

The day had finally come where I needed to step back and look at the life I had lived up to this point. I know what you're thinking...this is all about a freaking hair cut? Yes, yes it is. my hair meant more to me than I don't know what. It was my comforter, it was my sex appeal, it was my shield. I wore it many different ways, but by far my favorite was when it was straight and you could see the length.

I loved the way it would flow in the wind, the way it rested in my shoulder and I loved to pull my hair from the back as I was concentrating on something. I still believe that when I was suffering from a severe writers block that little pull made all the difference.

Eventually, budget cuts hit and there was no way for me to constantly go out and blow dry my hair. It takes money to make kinky hair look nice. So, a bit of depression settled in. There was no way that I was going to blow dry that mop myself every three days. 

 I mean, come on... Look at that. Would you ever think that hair that curly could ever look straight? It does. My hair is thin, but ridiculously curly. I owe that luxury to my mixed genes. Luckily, I got more of the mom hair gene than the sperm donor, because her hair is lifeless straight and tends to lend a hand to the people who blow dry my hair. 

Anyway, let me tell you the story about when I went to the salon and finally gave in to cut my hair short. My hair dresser and I have had a ten year relationship. She and I have been through marriage, divorce, dating, and new relationships. She has been dying to cut my hair really short to give me a new look since my divorce five years ago. I always refused.

One day, I went to see her to become a red head. She loved this color on me and was dying to change it back to red (I was a severe red head years ago, think the Phoenix from X-Men). I caved and she changed it. But, since my hair was sooo long, she ran out of dye and had to re-mix another batch. The problem with this was that she didn't remember exactly how she mixed it. 

I was half asleep and didn't know what was going on, until I went to work. A co-worker of mine looked at me and said, 'Dude, your hair is two different colors.' I lost it. I didn't call her nor did I contact the salon. I knew this was on oversight on her part, but, I couldn't afford to continually go back there every other week. I was determined to find a new hair dresser.

I found one. He was amazing, he fixed my situation, but he wasn't her. His prices were great. The waiting time killed me. So, when it came down to getting my hair cut, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to call Carmen and set up an appoint and forgive her for her mistake. I was going to get my hair cut!!

 I made the appointment and showed her this picture. I want to look like Drew Barrymore, sans color. I want a short hair cut in order to cut away all the things that I have gone through in the last ten years. I WANT FREEDOM!!!! She looked at me and said, it's about time. But, are you sure. 

She knew how attached I was to my hair. Was I 100% sure, of course not. However, I couldn't handle the desire I had to get rid of my hair. The time had come for a change. Everything around me was changing. My world was starting to look brighter and I needed my hair to reflect that. 

She grabbed the scissor and cut. I'm not going to lie. At first, I was hyperventilating, but with each cut I felt lighter. I felt free. I felt more powerful that I have felt in a very long time. I was excited for the change. For every little change that I was making in my life.

I'm not going to continue to bore you with my dramatic outlook on life. Let's just say that I am happy. I do need to do a couple of other things to my hair because I didn't remember that cutting my hair smack in the middle of summer was a bit dumb on my part, seeing as the humidity in Miami and my curls don't like each other, but there isn't a day that I look back on my hair cut and doubt that I made the wrong decision. So, without further ado (is that how u spell that?)  MY BEFORE AND AFTER SHOT. 

Tell me...and be honest....WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Don't Judge Me...I'm not on TV

I have an admission. I would like to keep this between us because.... well, it's.... it's rather embarrassing. Promise you won't tell? Seriously, you promise??

***enter dramatic pause here***

Okay. . . . . . OH MY GOSH!!! I can't believe I'm going to say this.... ummmmm, you really really pinky promise, right? 

***enter concerned face here**

Alright, alright... geez. **deep breath** Here it is. . . 

I ENJOY REALITY SHOWS!

OOOO EEEMMMM GEEEEE!!! I think I just got rid of my last intellectual brain cell. HA HA! Ok, I'm just kidding. Not about the reality show thing... just the brain cell comment. I really do enjoy me some reality show drama. Particularly The Real Housewives of New York City (up until Bethenny Frankel left, but then she got her own show Bethenny Ever After and that is now my favorite.)

BEST REVENGE EVER!!!!  ==========>

I also enjoyed tons of drama from the BH Housewives...

Not so sure if I feel bad for her. . . catch up on the drama and then we can talk. =)

This one I do feel bad for her. My heart goes out to her and her little girl. Pobresita!

 

Wait...almost forgot to mention the Atlanta chicks. Check them out for some AMAZING dramatic times.

Now imagine my excitement when I heard that Miami (town of plastic surgery, fakeness and rolling around in cars you can't afford and carrying a real Louie to the welfare office.) was getting it's own HOUSEWIVES!!! What?? The town that I live in that I am now learning to love (only took me ten years) is going to host it's own cesspool of backstabbing and dollar slanging! Needless to say that ELATED is an understatement. I was not missing an episode EVAR!!! (I know it's misspelled. -----> that's how it's supposed to sound when you're ELATED!!!)

So, I have to admit, I missed a couple of episodes. Not because I wanted to, but because duty called. For some reason my employer can't understand how calling out to catch the show is not acceptable. Yada yada yada, a couple of write ups later and BAAAM I was in bed and I was meeting my new electrifying Miami divas. I was sure that the producers had taken their time picking Le Creme de La Creme. I mean they had to represent Miami well. Strong personalities and mucho pero mucho drama to compete with the other shows. I couldn't wait to meet Miami's version of Nene Leakes!!! -------->>>>

I ended up catching the show mid episode. I was introduced to this face right of the bat. . . 

Oh sweet sweet sweet honey suckle of life, what is that? She looks like she should be on an episode of The Doctor's When Plastic Surgery Goes Wrong episode. . . 

BBBBUUUTTT I digress!

The show was horrible. Bravo thought so too, so they cancelled it. Take it from me when I tell you that this was the worst representation of Miami possible. It did a great job of showing how Hialeah (no offense to my Hialeah peoples) hood rat gold differs could be useful in society, but it did nothing to elevate the community that I am currently digging. Who were these women and where the hell did Bravo find them? Seriously I am embarrassed for my Miami peeps. 

Ok, it's funny. . . but, aside from their uneducated Hialeah accent (again, no offense) these women on this show play up to a crowd of people that I think destroy the beauty of this city. They are the typical stereotype of what Miami women are not. I blame women like that for creating this stigma that the man whose pocket chicks hold on to, are what defines them. You know the chicks I'm talking about. . . they are the ones that have a name on each article they adorn their overworked on bodies. They are the women who crash diets and break people down to just a dollar sign. TOTAL WOMEN FAIL!!!

What? You're calling me a hypocrite??? I am offended!!! But, you are also kind of right. I am a fan of the other shows and they are just as bad. HOW EV ER,  Miami Housewives do not have the draw that the other shows have. They are just bad. Bad accents, bad facial features and bad ummm bad everything!

Here's the real reason why I'm bombarding you with this today... the other day I got a Groupon (BEST SITE EVER!!!! <----FREE ADVERTISING! I seriously need to start getting paid for this.) for a VIP ticket to a Dali private collector's viewing. This was my first art exhibit, not to mention VIP status. It was an easy purchase (I love me some art) and I was super excited.

I met my girlfriend and her husband there. Her hubby is a real artist (he's really good, for realsies!) The plan was to enjoy ourselves with people watching and amazing artwork. We were also planning on chowing down on some designer yummies. It started off properly. We got into the people watching. . . .

The food was hard to get to, barely found and once you did, attack mode was in progress. But, just as I was getting comfortable with my artsy fartsy role, everything took a turn for the worst. . .

We were invaded by the Housewives of Miami!! I thought they were canceled! Turns out that crappy ratings weren't enough for Bravo to bite the bullet and admit their mistakes. Whatever, not my cup of tea and I can always change the channel. (Chopped anyone??)

What I can't change is how horrible it was to be in a cramped up space trying to enjoy my friends, artwork and my first VIP experience while being cleared away from existence while these posers (wearing amazing shoes) walk around aimlessly interrupting my art experience. 

 THEY DIDN'T EVEN ADMIRE THE ARTWORK!!!

OOORRR THE AMAZING BUILDING WE WERE STANDING IN!!!!

Nope, they just walked around and around and around and gossiped about God knows what. All the while the paying public, who was actually there for the enjoyment of the artwork, the people who were trying to understand what things were and why was the guy in the gold jacket walking around and dancing as if this was an 80's film, seriously, why?....

Anyway, we were being pushed around as if we were sheep in this developing town of Miami. I want a creative city. I want to live in an artistically diverse city where I can walk around and try to figure out the mysterious ways of crazy artist!!!

I do not want to be pushed around! Specifically from one camera guy who rudely told me to "move out the way." Yeah...he said that. Apparently, I was absently walking in the same direction as the wives and I was rudely depriving Bravo of finally getting some amazing drama on this show. 

Had it not been for the fact that my friend has amazing people skills or the fact that I was not heavily inebriated, I totally would have created some drama for these chicks and grabbed my drink and throw it in the tall ones face. I don't know why she annoys me soo. . . it was possibly the chunk of upper arm fat that was leaking from the top of her too tight dress. (Not my personal comment, but my girlfriends observation. For the record though, the back fat was severe. Pay for a trainer or some lypo lady!!)

Anyway, my experience improved, once they had turned off the cameras and we were back in the art district...just as intended. I did enjoy my time there and I can't wait till the next art gallery I can attend. I still think the Miami housewives suck, and will only watch the show now to find out what they were talking about and if I am in the back ground. . . WHAT?!?!

If you ask me, I should have my own reality show. . . I'm just saying!

tears in a cold world...

She's crying. I'm not sure why, but I want to stop her pain. Is she uncomfortable? Is she missing something or someone? Is she hungry or just lacking affection? The tears continue to drench her innocent cheeks and I haven't made a move. I'm still standing here, staring into the pain that is clouding her sweet eyes and I haven't done a thing. I am watching from a distance and refuse to get involved. It's not my problem. Besides, someone else will help her, why does it have to be me?

My mom once told me that there would come a time in the world where evil will multiply and good will be less likely to prevail. I would hear this time and time again and I never thought that I would ever see the day. I refused to play a part in that. I would always be me and have an open heart for the world. Let me tell you that not only have I seen the day, but I have also hidden my goodwill in a safe and it's under a massive security lock down. I caved. The world finally conquered me, or did it?

I spent last week in Orlando. I did a little shopping and hung out with my Boobie. We also vistited Mickey. (SN:How can you go to Orlando without visiting Mickey Mouse???) As we are strolling (more like speed walking and trying to get around the multitude of kids to get to the Haunted Mansion, I'm such a kid!) through Magic Kingdom, I see a little boy out of the corner of my eyes crying hysterically. What's my first thought? Well, of course he's coming out of a candy store and I'm thinking that he wanted something and his parents said no. Economy is tough and Mickey hasn't lowered his prices!

As I get closer, I realize it's not that he is being a brat but that he is lost. Instantly, my heart broke. I can't tell you how many people passed by this crying child, a desperate child building trauma and scared out of his mind, and no one stopped. Not once person took a detour for the well being of another human being. Not even the employee standing at the door. She even looked at me and smiled, but just stood there and ignored the child. I was in shock! Here you are in a park full of children and parents and not one person bothered to look down at this crying child and try to figure out what was wrong with him.

My many years of working for a police department is not in vain. The experience and many hours of training started to kick in and the emotions took a back seat. I walk over to the kid. I get down to his level and I ask him if he's lost. Hiss crying becomes hysterical and the fear begins to consume him. I look at him and with pure love in my eyes tell him not to worry, we will find his parents. I ask him who he was with. He tells me he was with his dad. I ask him where was the last place he saw his daddy. "Right here." He says. You can physically see his desperation begin to leave his tiny little body. He knew he was safe.

The child must have been at least five years old. He was terrified and surrounded by all these people he didn't know and all that it took was one person taking a couple of minutes out of their day and asking him if he needed help. He trusted me. I was not going to stop until I found his dad. At this point I ask him to stand right there and ask him what his dad was wearing. "A red shirt and blue pants," he says. At this point Boobie, who is also a police department employee begins to look around for the dad. We both know that in these situations, the parent will return to the last place he saw his kid. It wasn't a good idea to move him.

I reach for the child's hands and I ask him not to cry. "Don't worry honey, we are going to find your daddy." A couple of things were working against us accomplishing our goal. It was dark, the street lights were out due to the light parade and people were basically walking over each other. No one was helping us find this boys dad. Now what? We begin looking for a man who looks just as desperate as this child in the sea of madness that we were standing in. Just as I was wondering where people's heart have gone, a Disney employee walks out of the candy store and grabs the boy from my arms. She says she's going to find his dad and sweeps him from my arms. She never made eye contact with me and instantly starts to walk him around the store. A definite no no! How can you trust someone who never makes eye contact?

Instantly, I went after her and Boobie stopped me. He asked me to relax, she'll help him find his dad. I start to walk away, but everything in me is telling me to go back. I mean, how can she find his dad? She walked away from the last place dad saw him. Dad was going to go back to where we were standing and his boy is not going to be where he last saw him. Now you are going to stress out two people for no reason. Also, she never made eye contact with me, how could I trust her. I made a promsie to the little boy, I was breaking that. She never made him feel comfortable. She never reassured him that it was going to be ok. She never let him trust her. She just grabbed him and left.

I didn't feel right about this at all. It took me a while to calm down and not stress it. She was a Disney employee and had training on how to get lost children back to her parents. But, she wasn't trained the way I was. She didn't know what I knew. I couldn't trust her to find his dad. I almost turned around and went back. Boobie stopped me. "He's going to be fine, trust me." I did trust him. Because he was ok with it, then I would be too. I let it go and enjoyed the rest of my night.

A part of me hasn't let it go though. It's not because he was taken from my arms, but because I couldn't trust that woman to find his dad the way I could find his dad. I knew that I could do a good job and all I wanted to see was the pain taken away from that little boys face and see the relief and happiness return to his face once he was reunited with his dad. I wanted to see love.

I realize that what my mother told me is true, but just as I decided a long time ago that I would not succumb to the ways of the world, I will honor that today. I have to trust people, and not just those that I have tested, but all people. I have to welcome everyone with open arms because I want to see the pain and sorrow that surrounds so many of us disappear and be replaced with the relief and happiness that only comes from knowing that there is still good in the world. I choose to be a leader and not a follower. I choose to love.

Fides....

Was it all a dream?

She walked into the bustling Starbucks and I swear the room paralyzed with each step she took towards me. Suddenly, I was the center of her world, while the rest of them watched. They stared in our direction, but no one looked at her. They stared at me. As if with one look she would destroy my creation. She smiled passively. This set me at ease and I returned the smile and gestured for her to join me at the table. The chair appeared as she slowly made her body fold at the waist. She never took her eyes off of me.

The espresso machine let a drip of coffee fall into the shot glass and the room became chaos once again. Her eyes never left me. The smile was genuine. I began searching for a reason in her eyes, yet she gave me none. She just smiled with tenderness and purity. I knew that it had taken a while for her to get to this place. I could see the pain and heartbreak that lingered, almost hovered in her past. But, she just wouldn't let it affect her. She didn't let it bring her down.

Before I spread my lips apart in an attempt to make a sound, her hand went up to stop me. "I know what you want to know, but first I need my coffee." Her blue eyes glimmered and there was no demeaning tone in her words, just a urging sense of happiness.

She reached her hand out in front of her and a white mug appeared before her. She lifted up the ceramic mug and allowed her lips to hug either side of the glass as she sipped on her truth serum. She intrigued me and I wanted to be just like her.

I bought my hand to my throat to make sure I didn't mumble that out loud, because as soon as I thought it, she smiled and put the coffee down and looked deep into my being. She said "Soon,  you will be."

"I'll start at the beginning," she started. "It all happened on the day that you woke up and said, I have had enough. You sat back and then you realized that your entire existence has been centered around everything but you. You finally decided that for once, you would hold yourself up on a pedestal and not wait for someone else to do it for you. It felt good to make that decision. But, after the decision was made, came the hard part. You actually have to do it."

"I'm lost," I said. "do what?"

"I know you're lost honey, that's why I came." She smiled again and took another sip of her coffee. 

The room suddenly got quiet again. I began to look around and the people in the Starbucks were again staring at me. This time it was different though. I knew these people. They were co-workers, family, friends, former-friends...it was people I had daily encounters with. They weren't saying anything audible. Or if it was audible I couldn't hear them. I couldn't tell what they were trying to say. Some where more animated than others and were jumping up and down reaching out their hands to me trying to get my attention, but I couldn't hear them. I just didn't understand.

"Focus on me, not on them." She said. Her voice took a stronger tone. There was still that loving sincerity I sense from the moment she walked in, but she was a tad bit agitated that I did not make her the center of my thoughts. 

"This is exactly what has lead you to where you are sitting right now." Her focus became narrow and her voice was the only sound in the room. "I know what you want. You want to change the world. You want to do amazing things and touch the lives of many. You want a shining reputation and you never want someone to doubt you and who you are. But, think of those that you have ignored along the way. Think of those that you have stepped on and totally disregarded their existence. What of them? What do you think they say about you? Does it bother you?."

I was almost afraid to answer. I didn't know where this was going. I answered anyway. Not verbally, I was too afraid for that. I just shaked my head, no.

"You know why it doesn't bother you?." Her gaze lowered and she was tracing every outline in my face as if she were painting a self portrait.

"No." My voice didn't sound like my own. It sounded beaten.

"It didn't bother you because those people do not deserve you in their lives. You know the difference between right and wrong. You know what's good for you and what is bad for you. But, you still keep leaning towards the bad. Why? Why do you always do that? Don't you realize your worth? Don't you know how priceless a soul like yours is?"

I sat back and thought about it for a while. I couldn't find the value. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

"I'm not here to make you cry." She wiped the tears from my face with a white little handkerchief with lilies on it. It smelled just like my grandfather. It kind of looked like his too. "I am here to show you what you have been missing out on. I am here to light that fire under your butt that you so desperately need. It's time..."

Friendship....or lack thereof

Remember what it was like when you were a kid? You arrive at the play yard, ditch your parents and head to the most awesomest part of the play yard. For some it may have been the monkey bars, the slide, the sand pit....but for me it was always the swing. I would run for the first empty one I saw, hoping all the way that no one else would take my swing. It was MY swing after all. I saw it first.

I would jump on and swing myself. But, no matter how hard I tried, I was limited. I needed to find someone to push me to get maximum air lift. So what to do next? Well, you look for the kid that is patiently waiting for their turn and ask them to push you. You would typically say, "Hey, you want to push me and then I'll push you." As a kid waiting for the swing, what are your options really? The kid would of course agree to the terms and you would take turns pushing each other. When you felt you had enough you would either move on to something else or head over to your mom. Mom would always ask, who was that? You would answer, my friend.

It was simple back then, wasn't it? You would give a little, get a little and automatically this person was your friend. It was a time of innocent trust and simple pleasure. There really was no betrayal (unless you were a total jerk when you were a kid and if that's the case stop reading because this blog post isn't FOR you, it's ABOUT you) (on second thought, keep reading you might learn something and stop being a jerk for the rest of your life.) You surrounded yourself around people that made you feel good inside. You were just interested in having fun. The simple pleasures. 

Susy is the sunshine of the workplace. She comes in everyday with a smile and always has a joke to make you laugh. She is the first one in and the last one out. She will never turn you down and makes herself available to everyone regardless of the strain it may put on her. She is the backbone of the definition of friend. At the same token. Susy is very private. She keeps to herself and no one can really tell you about her life, but they call her friend.

One day, Susy is a couple of minutes late to work. A first for her. She doesn't seem like herself. She isn't smiling or cracking jokes. She seems preoccupied with something. People approach her and ask her, "Susy...everything ok." She gives them a half smile and nods her head, "yea, I'm fine thanks." They take it at face value and bombard Susy with request for advice and make her a landing zone for life worries. 


Days go by and Susy isn't the same. She seems different. They ask her for a favor and she turns them down. She seems distant and doesn't want to talk. She seems fed up all the time and she is constantly on edge. Each time someone asks her what's wrong, Susy says nothing. 

Instead of either sitting down with her and telling her, hey lets talk about what's going on with you or maybe looking internally and saying, "did I do something to her?" People begin speaking about her. They complain about her. Suddenly, all the selfless things that Susy did doesn't matter anymore. The support system that these people relied on for such a long time, is no longer there and they are upset. Simply upset because Susy has finally realized that she is being taken advantage of. 


You see friendships are not about give, give, give while the other person sits there and takes, takes, takes. No, friendships are I give you a little and you give me that in return. I may be wrong about this (I have been mistaken in the past), but isn't all about I push you and you push me. When one person feels that they are being taken advantage of, then what's the point in continuing that friendship?

I pride myself in being a good friend. There have been many times where I have given more than I should have, even put my life on hold because of my love for another. How many times in your life have you sacrificed sleep, money, comfort, time, etc. for the well being of someone you call friend? 

I cannot count the times I have done all of those things and then some for someone else. I can count, however, the times I have been trampled on and used. I'm not saying that I am now becoming a hostile person, but I can say that I have finally reached my breaking point. There comes a time in your life when you know that you have had enough. I have had enough.


In the true spirit of my search for FIDES, I know that there are times when you hold on and times when you say goodbye. The time for me to say goodbye is now. No more excuses will be made for people, because I find myself constantly explaining why they do why they do it. The time has come for those people that rely on my sweat and tears as a crutch to let go and stand on their own two feet. I choose to stand for me and me alone. I can't teach you to be strong. It's all about fighting your own weakness that you discover your own personal strength. I can no longer be strong for you.

If you take this the wrong way, then this was meant for you. God bless.

White Bean and Chicken Chili

I believed her. She stared into the camera and with this innocent sincerity said "You're going to love this." I trusted her. Her words were delicious and her sense of certainty was inviting. Whater she was offering, I wanted in. I was taking this opportunity and running. I knew deep down inside this was going to be good for me.

This is the meal she promised me. She ensured me that when I followed every single instruction she laid in my path, not only would it look like this, but it would also taste very good. You see, when she took her spoon and dipped it in the chili, out came a big old chunk of happiness. She looked into the camera with a big smile, taunted me and said, "I wish you could smell this." Then, once she felt she had her way with me, she tasted it. Her eyes closed and she transcended into chicken and white bean chili bliss.

I was left on the other side of the screen in awe. I wanted to be submerged into savory goodness. My mouth was salivating (Ok, so I kinda sorta drooled) and I wanted what she had. I needed to transcend into chili bliss and close my eyes and say how DELICIOUS this was. I too wanted to share in that pride that comes with accomplishing a goal and immersing yourself in the sweet sweet glory that comes with knowing you worked your butt off. You know, that kind of self worth that only comes when you do something yourself and no one helped you and it all turned out just fine because you did it. I like to call it, THE ACHIEVEMENT OF INDEPENDENCE.

So, I hear her say that I could go to the website get the recipe and have a content tummy too. I did it. I went to the website, found the recipe and hit print. I was buying a one way ticket to culinary glory and there was no stopping me. YUM YUM CHILI HERE I COME!!! I read the instructions and start going through the ingredients. Of course since I consider myself a master chef, I have pretty much everything in my kitchen that needs to go into this thing. Except for the main ingredient, GROUND CHICKEN. Who has ground chicken lying around? Who came up with that anyway? Times like this I wish I had the meat grinder attachment for my KitchenAid mixer. 

I write down a couple of items that I didn't have in my cabinets of awesome. Ground chicken, swiss chard(never cooked with it before) , cumin (ran out), cannellini beans (never heard of these things), frozen corn and ummmm oh yeah, chicken stock and some parm cheese. Got my list programed in my iPhone and I'm off to the grocery store.

Walking through the grocery store, temptation lies in every corner. I don't know if I mentioned it, but I am on a diet. I have made a commitment to myself to get into the shape that I have always dreamed of. Think Jillian Michaels. In other words, I am disciplining myself. Hence, there are items that I must refrain from eating. If its not taking me to the sexy mountain peak, then i'm not getting on that lift!

DOESN'T THAT 240 CALORIE COKE LOOK DELISH -------->

However, I can't help the delishishness that lies behind the magical glass doors of yum town. It seems that everything has my name on it. From the fresh baked bread in the bakery to the happy cupcakes winking in my directon. (Cupcakes goes great with chili right?) I fight the urge and move forward with my shopping list. Only because I've been really good on my diet (lost fifteen pounds in one month) and the fat lady eating the package of Entenmann's chocolate donuts reminds me that temptation only leads to demise.

Ok, back to the story. I get home and I start following all of the directions. I start off with prepping all of my ingredients. I want everything to be perfect so that I can pretend to have my own cooking show and be just as awesome, but not as crazy looking as Giada. I don't have cool little prep bowls but my Hello Kitty bowls and measuring cups do the trick. After a bowlful of tears (thanks to a whole chopped onion), I finally have everything prepped. I start going down the list of the steps and begin following them them one by one. I've become a tad bit familiar with the recipe since I read it over and over and over again, prior to starting. The cockiness settles in and I'm good to go.

I get everything in the pot and I'm happy with my results thus far. This ting is going to be amazing.

Not to shabby huh? Well, the directions tell me to simmer and I do just that. In order to kill time and wait for my bowl of goodness I grab my book, grab my Jeter and a bottle of water and wait it out. In an hour I will have perfect edible happy chili.

YEAH!! So like my arrogance over shadowed my ability to read directions. You see after I waited a whole freaking hour to have this amazing chili, I walk over to the stove and realize that I've been literally SIMMERING this thing for an hour. So the pot of chili didn't cook down the way it was supposed to due to the lack of heat. I turn up the heat a tad and decide to take a shower in order to wash away my pang of failure and redeem some sense of confidence. It also helped to distract my tummy from the aching desire to grab a spoon and eat it anyway.

Eventually, after beating my mind into a culinary pulp, I walk over and my delish creation is ready for tasting. It's reduced the way it's supposed to. The smell of cumin and fennel seeds and chicken and freaking delishishness is running through my house. I am a happy camper. I give it the finishing touches and BBAAAMM (SN:What the heck happened to Emeril Lagasse?) 

And here's the finished product:

Trust me when I tell you that it taste SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT IT LOOKS!!! It has a chili flavor but it's a tad bit sweet. The heat smacks your taste buds after the third spoonful. I know I am an amazing cook. But, I cannot bask in sweet glory until I have confirmation. After all, the falling tree only makes a sound if someone is around to hear it. (or does it?)

The tried and true test is once my friends try it and tell me how it came out.  For the time being, I am relying on my own taste buds and these bad boys don't lie! (ooo it's soooo delish)

I had a vision. I saw something that I believed was good for me. It's something that I wanted. I set a goal for myself and moved foward. She mastered it and I wanted too also.

I refused to sit on my rear end and hope that this wonderful bowl of chili would appear out of thin air. NO. I followed the steps that were laid out before me and discovered greatness. The minor speed bumps did not phase me. I reached my goal despite my set backs.

 

In sumbery (sorry I have some chili in my mouth) Don't sit back and complain about what you don't have. Go out there and work for it and get it for yourself. **CLICHE ALERT** It taste so much better when you enjoy the fruits OR CHILI of your labor. =) 

Thanks for reading... I'm going to get back to this bowl of chili. MMMM MMMM TASTE GOOD!

What's it all about again?

This is going to be the year that I (fill in the blank). Yup, I have sat back and watched life happen before me, but NO MORE!! This is my year. This is going to be the year that I will finally meet my goal. There is nothing that's going to stop me. I am motivated. There is nothing... I mean absolutely nothing... that will stand in my way. I will achieve greatness in 2012!

Ok, so it's been twenty-five days into the New Year. Where do you stand? Did you find that new relationship, quit smoking, lose weight, save money? Did you become that nicer person, make more time for your family, live each day as if it were your last? Wait... let me guess, you FINALLY found that dream job and are slowly climbing that ladder to success JUST LIKE YOU ALWAYS SAID!!! Soon enough, that bank account will increase, you will be happy and you will have nothing at all to worry about. Congrats! I'm happy for you.

No really, I am happy for you. Don't focus on my frown, focus on the fact that you are headed in the right direction. I'm proud of you. Now, for the rest of you that are trying to hide your disappointment, (Not that I am, because my lips normally go down when I smile, its cool. I'm not jealous at all. For real) come take a seat next to me and lets comfort each other in the land of unkept promises and defeat.

Let's talk this thing out. What is it about the new year that creates all this excitement and potential for something new and something hopeful. Why is it that we have to wait for numbers on a calendar to change before we decided, I've had enough and things are going to change? Why? Why? Why? Here are my thoughts...stay with me on this one, I'll get to the point eventually.

So Jeter wakes up every morning and goes crazy. He jumps up on the side of the bed with this huge doggie smile and this excitement as if to say, DID YOU SEE...IT'S A NEW DAY. GET UP! GET UP! GET UP! My reaction always is..."ugh, five more minutes." Telling him that is like hitting the snooze button on an alarm. He'll be back at it, with the same innocent excitement. MOOOMMMIIEEEEE, WAKE UP! WE MADE IT! ANOTHER DAY! LET'S DO THIS!!!

Eventually, I'll get tired of his excitement, because who told you that we should be excited today. It's freaking seven in the morning. SEVEN IN THE MORNING JETER!! I'll reach over, pull him up on the bed and after he is done trying to wake me up with doggie slobber and gentle nibbling, he finally gives in and collapses in front of me. Bam...battle won and now he won't move, nor harass me until I decide it's time to wake up. I have to decide to wake up.

Ok, so now back to my point. (I told you, I'll bring you back!) Jeter doesn't care what day it is or what time it is. Once he wakes up...it's go time. He has opened the gift of life one more day and he doesn't plan on wasting it. He wakes up with the I-will-conquer-the-world-attitude and there is nothing that is going to come between him and his day of awesomeness. That is until he comes across me. The cuddler of crushed dreams. I tell him, no your not ready. But, he knows that he is. He walks away for a moment or so, but is back in my face with this c'mon lady I want this and I want it now attitude.

However, I know him. I know how to knock him down. I know how to crush his happiness and get him into that lazy state where I am comfortable and I am happy knowing he is not doing anything and I can rest knowing I am not going to miss anything and he isn't going to do anything. I grab him and I give him what he longs for. Comfort. The comfort in knowing that nothing has changed and everything has stayed exactly the same. He can conquer the world when I am ready for him to conquer the world.

Don't look at me like that. I told you there was a point to this story and I'm getting there. You see, every day is a blessing. It's one more day that you are able to make an impact in this world. You can either enter into it with a blind innocence that no matter what, you are going to be happy. You are going to meet your goals. You are going to do what you set out to do. OR you can take the opposite approach and go back to what is comfortable. You can choose to fall into the arms of days past and continue to live your life in the same routine and never experience something new.

So here's what I'm saying. Learn to let go. Don't carry that weight from 2011. Don't get disappointed if you've already gave up on your new years resolutions. It's not about a new year, it's all about a new day. Each day is an opportunity to take a step forward in life and live out one more dream, say one more thank you, one more I love you. It's all about baby steps people. **CLICHE WARNING** Rome wasn't built in a day (did I do that right?) and neither can a new you.

I leave you with this thought, before you go to bed tonight think of one thing that you don't want to do tomorrow. Fill that void with something you do want to do. Make it a point that NO MATTER what the cuddler of crushed dreams bribes you with, do it. If you give in, aim to do it the next day and the next day. You'll get it right. I promise.

2012, welcome...but it's not about you. It's all about tomorrow.