My Son's First Date

November 2, 1993. I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy! Well, he wasn't really bouncing; he was a little more subdued. In fact, he was the coolest baby I'd ever encountered. He was laid back, even when he cried! The thing I remember most, his smile. Yes, at that early age, he had a smile that could light up the room. He still does.

Recently, our now 15 year old son approached me and his father (my husband) about going on a double date with a friend of his. We agreed but only after the details of the date met our specifications. It was decided, our oldest would escort a young lady from his school to the movies. As the week went on, it turned out to be a single date, but we were comfortable with it, because he is a good kid and never gives us real trouble.

Finally, the day of the FIRST date arrives, and our son is extremely nervous. However, it didn’t stop him from taking care of the final details of his date. When it was all said and done, the time and movie were set and he was on his way out of the door. Since our son asked the young lady out, we felt the need to provide transportation. In addition, it would be an opportunity to meet with the young lady’s parents. Unfortunately, the night before I was in the emergency room with a horrible ear infection and was unable to go. So, they left and like any proud mother, memories of my baby boy began to flood my mind and I realized he isn’t a baby anymore...

Ten minutes passes and my phone rings. It's my husband. I’m expecting to hear that they are on their way to the movies but instead my husband is upset and he tells me that there will be NO date today. When I asked why, I was AMAZED at what took place.

According to my son and husband, they arrived at the young lady's home and her mother was sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette and drinking. My husband approached her first, introduced himself and shook her hand, our son followed but when he went to shake her hand she extended two of her fingers. The whole time she looked him up and down as if she was sizing him up. Without any introduction of herself, she immediately states that she doesn’t know "who you people are" and she needs identification, license plate numbers and cell phone numbers.

Normally this would not be a problem.

But…profanity and yelling is not necessary.

Yes. She began every sentence with a curse word and constantly reminded my husband that she was only protecting her child. Not wanting to disappoint my son or the young lady, he decided to ignore the mother's irrational behavior and give her the information that she requested.

And then, she said...If you were a good father, you'd look out for yours too.

With that, my husband told our son to go to the truck and announced that there would be no date.That should have been the end of it. But it was not.

The mother called my daughter's phone about 45 minutes after my guys left and she began to curse at my daughter. When I took the phone I tried to reason with her, but you can't reason with irrational people. I finally had enough and decided to hang but she beat me to it and hung up on me.

My husband and I wanted our son to know that he did nothing wrong in this situation. When we were at a loss of words he said to us, that he was fine but what bothered him the most was how it seemed like she judged him before she knew anything about him. He couldn’t understand that she wasn’t interested in the fact that he was an honor student, student leader, athlete, and all around nice guy.

Then I thought about how we always tease that the first boy to come take our daughter out will be grilled! We never imagined that the boy may feel nervous or that we would come across as harsh or unreasonable. Having high expectations was something that we never thought twice about. The fact of the matter is we will still expect a lot from the people our children choose to date. However, after this experience we will definitely think about being a little more compassionate towards any young man or young lady that will escort or be escorted by our children.

After all of this, my son just shrugged his shoulders, changed his clothes and went to play football with my brother.

Kids!

Dr. Henry L. Gates aka G-Money

I've heard it said, that we have a new president but this is the same America.

I believe it to be true.

The election of Barack Obama should have been a turning point in race relations in our country. It was the promise of seeing Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream come alive.

Then, reality put its foot down.

I have a 15 soon to be 16 year old son. His father and I have raised him to be respectful, mannerable, and most of all in fear and admonition of the Lord.

Then came"the rules", NEVER resist arrest. Never run, never talk back, no loitering, no yelling in public, turn the music down when you see a squad car, if the police are behind you never turn around, you'll appear suspicious and they may pull you over. Don't ever get into a vehicle with 3 or more or your black friends, it looks suspicious. Obey the curfew laws. Don't jaywalk. When speaking to an officer, look him in the eye and make no sudden moves and keep your hands out of your pockets and at your side. If they ask for ID, present it immediately.

I think Dr. Gates may have forgotten "the rules".

You see, as a Harvard professor, he is respected by his colleagues and students. He has sold books, has had numerous shows on PBS and he has even been on Oprah! This is man has accomplished a great deal in the academic world. He is a mature gentleman, wears glasses and walks with a cane. However, the day he was arrested, only one thing stood out...

He's black.

Depending on who you ask, that isn't a crime in this country. But it can prove to be problematic. It is unfortunate how stereotypical people can be. It is a harsh reminder that sometimes no matter how much you've achieved you are still viewed as a just another black man up to no good.

I can't say that I would not have called the police if I saw what appeared to be a strange person in my neighborhood attempting to break in my neighbors home. Here's the problem, the woman that made the call didn't see a glasses wearing, cane carrying Harvard professor who was locked out of his home. She saw a black man trying to break into a house. What's even worse, she doesn't realize its her neighbor.

Can you see the problem? Let me explain.

He LIVES in this neighborhood, he is employed by Harvard as a professor, he has been on television but she didn't see any of that. All she saw was a black man in her predominately white neighborhood.

When the police did arrive he was already in his home. The officers approached him and asked for ID. Now here is where the earlier mentioned "rules" come into play. Even if you are in your own house, if the police ask for your ID, give it to them. Had this been a white professor, the incident would have ended with a sorry for the inconvenience, have a good day. It was clear that Dr. Gates was agitated and at this point, for a black person, freedom of speech does not apply. It has been my personal experience that it is best to hold your peace and do what is asked of you.

( I know right now every slain civil rights activist is turning in their graves)

It is sad and unfortunate but true. But it sure is better than a ride in the back of a squad car or worse, a police beat down.

I purchased a ruby red Durango last year and I was really excited about it. I took my brother for a ride around 9:30pm one evening. On our way home I was pulled over by the police. I had on a seat belt, was driving the speed limit and my music could only be heard inside the truck. After pulling to the side of the road, the officer came up to my side and tapped my window with the butt of his flashlight. I rolled the window down and he did not greet me with a smile nor a hello. He asked me point blank, and very firm, where I was coming from. I told him I had just come from the store and he asked, with a smirk and irritation, oh yeah what store. Ok now I'm getting heated, because I have no clue as to why he stopped me. But I remembered "the rules". He asked me where I got the truck from. I said it was mine I just bought it. He then asked where I got it from, keep in mind I still
don't know why I've been pulled over and he is speaking to me as though I am not being upfront and truthful. But I'm still remembering "the rules". He says oh so you just bought it huh? Well I need to see some ID. Just for reference, I have new license plates on my truck, not a temporary tag. I gave him the ID and my registration, he smirks and goes back to the car. After checking out my story he returns to tell me that a cherry red Durango with temporary tags had just been reported stolen. When they saw me they had just received the call.

I can understand Dr. Gates' aggravation. It is beyond irritating to be accused falsely. Especially when it is your property that you pay for.

There is one thing that brings all of this together. No one saw that I worked everyday to pay for that truck. No one saw that I was tremendously blessed to even have it, no one saw that I was a good person, that I loved my family or that I loved to write. None of that mattered. It didn't matter that my vehicle did not completely match the description or that they never had to stop me in the first place, because running the plate would have given them the answers they needed. No, I was a black woman in a truck with a black man for a passenger, even though the other truck was stolen by two men. I had every right to be angry, appalled, upset and insulted. But I had to follow "the rules".

My son is a good kid. I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom, I'm saying it because it's true. The unfortunate reality is, he had to be taught how to survive if he ever must deal with the police. The incident with Dr. Gates just further proves, no degrees, books written, salary range, size of your home or amount in your bank account, fully separates you from the Pookies and G-Moneys of the world. You are still judged by your skin color and for that reason, you must follow the "rules".

Welcome back to reality Dr. Gates. We still have a long way to go.

What Freedom Means to Me

Each year we celebrate the Fourth of July with fireworks and barbecues. My father always took great pride and care in planning for the holiday festivities. I can remember how he made a grocery list weeks in advance and how he and my mom would sit down together to plan the menu and it was always the same. Daddy would grill chicken, pork chops and ribs and Mommie would make baked beans, potato salad, and corn on the cob. There was always popsicles in the freezer for me and my brother and that continued to benefit my two kids. We always had a huge amount of Pepsi to drink and my mom made sure we were dressed in red white and blue.

When my father died two years ago, that all changed. It didn't mean the same to me. I didn't want any barbecue or to go see the fireworks. I didn't want to be involved. People who meant well told me that I should do all those things to honor my father. They were right but I just didn't feel it.

Until this year.

I'm not saying its totally there, but, there is a peek of excitement going on.

It started when I found out we would have a Freedom Celebration service at church on Sunday. I'm in the choir so, I had to put together a red,white and blue outfit and sing patriotic songs. That started a series of events. I put a patriotic design on my toes because I was determined to wear sandals, I took extra time to find jewelry that had stars on it and I really paid attention to the lyrics of the songs we were singing. Something I hadn't done in a long time.

And that's when it all hit me. I am free. Not just physically but mentally and spiritually. I live in a country that is not perfect but, I am free to worship! I am free to love! I am free to write! I am free to read the Bible, attend the church of my choice, free to shop, free to live. I am free!

Then I thought of my Daddy. A veteran of the United States Air Force. He served this country, his country, my country so I could enjoy all of these freedoms. So, this year I will celebrate the Fourth of July because I am free and I will remember all the fun I had in years past and I will do so with the same enthusiasm as my Daddy. Because now I understand why he made such a big deal out of the holiday. Because he fought to make sure we would always have a reason to celebrate.

Thank you Daddy!

Happy Fourth of July everyone!

The Reality of Facebook

When I joined Facebook, I did so under the urging of my brother. He convinced me that it was a suitable social networking site for adults. I took his word for it and set up my own page. I soon found that he was right. Although I wasn't able to "decorate" my space, I was able to find old high school friends, connect with my family and interact with my church family as well. In the beginning the experience was great. It was fun to allow others to get a peek into my thoughts through my status. It was equally interesting to see what was on the mind of others. That still continues to be the most enjoyable part of the Facebook experience.

And then I witnessed my first written debate. Now, I love a good debate. I am a firm believer that it is possible to agree to disagree and still maintain a friendship. I do think that some people have trouble conquering that, but more on that subject later.
I have said and I have heard and read that Facebook is not "real life", that it isn't that crucial, that its not that serious. May I submit the following to you:

That is NOT true.

Here's why, Facebook is a microcosm of your life. You post pictures of yourself and your friends and family at parties, weddings, school etc. Your REAL life. You discuss your personal current events, your personal views and beliefs. Your profile describes who you are and what you do. Your friends list is filled with people in your inner, outer and fringe sphere of influence that includes family, friends and associates.

How is this not "REAL Life"?

Let's go further, people behave and react to the happenings and climate on Facebook the same way they do in the "REAL World". Opinionated people are still full of opinion. Those that watch life from the sidelines keep that seat. Encouragers encourage. Exhorters exhort. Funny people make jokes and business minded individuals are all about business. These are the same people we encounter on a daily basis. Some people we know better than others and others we get to know through status updates, comments, profile summaries and pictures.

People use this as a way of expressing themselves, confessions, venting, promoting, surveys and general conversation. It is inevitable that someone will say something that you will see as offensive, in poor taste or just plain do not like. That is life. The difference is how you react to these things.

That's what I want to focus on for a moment. How you react to things that are written on Facebook. Earlier I wrote about the first time I encountered a written debate. I have to say I read it and thought," man these folks need to get a life. Its just Facebook. I mean it isn't that serious". I felt that way until I found myself engaged in a war or words with someone. Without going into detail, let just say the other party took the matter outside of Facebook and when they see me in public they avoid speaking to me. That's sad, considering we didn't speak that much to begin with. To make matters worse, I was defriended by some people because of that incident. It seems I was too "controversial". Which I really didn't understand seeing that the majority of the debate occurred through private messages and they were not involved in the matter in anyway. I chalked the whole matter up to "paying my dues" as a writer. As much as I love my fans...everybody is not loving me! In the end I did gain some of those people back as "friends".

I don't know about you, but I think that is exactly how people behave in everyday situations. Think about it, how many times have you heard of or been involved in a situation where you or someone else had an exchange of words that led to a falling out that involved people that had nothing to do with the entire situation? Can you see a pattern yet?

I have noticed lately that people say serious, heavy things, I mean it seems as though they have gone into deep thought over their statement. And they answer and make conversation with those that agree with them. But the moment they come in contact with a statement that they disagree with or someone challenges their position, who they REALLY are comes to light. More often than not they will find those who agree with them and then turn on the person that challenges them. They do so without ever reviewing the situation and trying to see it from another angle. They are hell bent on holding fast to what they believe, even if they are proven wrong. Can you see another pattern?

People that are committed to their beliefs and viewpoints can debate them without feeling threatened or challenged by someone else's opinion. They have no problem with agreeing to disagree with someone else. I can say that I have come across these people and their polar opposite. I used to let it bother me until I realized they were just being themselves.

Then there are the people who take Facebook issues and translate them into "real life". It becomes the topic of the majority of their conversation. Before you know it offense has turned into bitterness, friends get defriended, relationships are strained and worse case scenario, family members don't speak to each other, all because of a misunderstanding on Facebook.

That's craziness! What's even crazier is that people will attempt to justify their actions by shifting all responsibility to the other party, never owning up to their own junk or even seeking another way to deal with the issue. - How sad.

What is it that causes us to join Facebook, enter numerous pieces of personal information, personal pictures, feelings, play games with others, give gifts, bumper stickers, comments, advice, and pokes only to declare "Hey! Lighten up it isn't real life! It isn't that serious!" because we were offended or turned off by what someone said on Facebook. What makes anyone think that a gathering of two or more human beings in one spot whether in "real life" or cyber life would not bring out the true character of those involved?

These are things that can occur without Facebook as the vehicle.

Think about this, when was the last time you read someone else's status and refrained from commenting. Or you read a note and became enraged or how many surveys or questionnaires have you answered that ask for 25 things about you that no one knows. The point I'm making is, it is naïve to take the position that Facebook is not like real life when it fact it is. If nothing else Facebook is a mirror that shows you your TRUE self. If you get angry about another persons opinion then perhaps you need to step back and take a deep breath before firing off a response. If you decide who should or should not be your "friend" based on what their opinion is or how they express themselves you may need to check yourself. Chances are you are like that away from Facebook and quite frankly that is no way to judge anyone. Lastly if you find yourself at odds with close friends or family over an incident on Facebook, chances are there was a problem in your relationship way before you all joined the site. In that case, you have to consider if the issue or your relationship is more important.

And that is the reality of Facebook.

The King an Angel and the Sidekick

I could not let the day pass without writing my feelings down about the events of this past week.

I have struggled with how to start this, so I will just begin.

My earliest memories of Ed McMahon was knowing when I heard his voice, it was time to put my book away and go to sleep. On occasion I was allowed a Friday night to watch Johnny, Ed and Doc. I never understood a lot of the jokes but I thought the costumes in the skits were hilarious. What do you expect I was 6! Later I would associate Ed with hitting the big payday! I would pray that my doorbell would ring and it would be Ed McMahon and a balloon bouquet attached to a huge cardboard check, so my Daddy could stop working and stay home with us. Needless to say, Ed never showed up. Lastly, I have vivid memories of Star Search and the many acts that got their break on that show, for instance a group named Gyrls Tyme who later became Destinys Child. I watched that show faithfully each week and Ed was a terrific host. Some of his jokes, not so funny but he was a great guy.

Then there was Farrah Fawcett. When I heard the news of her passing, I wasn't shocked, but it did sting. You see she was my favorite Angel. As a young girl,I tried to wear my hair like hers, I had a Farrah doll and I had a Charlie's Angels t-shirt and lunch box. When I became older, I watched "The Burning Bed". That movie allowed me to see Farrah in a whole new light. To me she did a good job of bringing the cycle of violence into light and how easy it is for some women to get caught in it. Whether you were a direct victim of domestic violence and/or abuse or knew of someone that was, when she set fire to that bed and killed Mickey...a surge of power, self worth and determination would flow, it was amazing. There was always a quietness about Farrah and her smile always seemed to warm you right through the tv screen.

Just as I was learning the details of Farrah's passing, I received a phone call informing me that Michael Jackson had been rushed to the hospital and had passed away. I didn't believe it. Even though it was my mom that called. I thought it was a joke. I continued to prepare for church and as my family and I walked out of the door we all had a strange feeling that it was true. As my husband started the truck, the radio came on and Michael's voice rang loud and clear as, "You Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" filled our ears. Just about every radio station we turned on was either talking about him or playing his music. My mom called again and let me know that he had indeed passed, however the only media outlet that would confirm his death was TMZ. Quite honestly I have never known them to be wrong and I didn't think they missed this one. By the time we got to church we knew he was gone
however most people were waiting for CNN. Moments later it hit the airwaves.

Michael Joseph Jackson , The King of Pop has died at age 50 of cardiac arrest.

I took a deep breath and we had church. I can honestly say that I didn't think about his passing during service. It was a good service! I got all I could get an then some from the speaker...I had time to process the days events later.

I'm still processing.

I've tried to find the lessons in all of these deaths. I believe that there are lessons in all things and I really wanted to understand. So here are a few things I figured out so far.

Lesson #1: It takes a big person to step back and let the little guy shine.

Ed McMahon was a talent in his own right. He had personality, charm and charisma, yet he played sidekick to Johnny Carson for years. He allowed Johnny to shine. As a host for Star Search again he set the stage for others to shine. And as the Publisher's Clearinghouse spokesman, yep you guessed it he opened plenty of door to ordinary peoples homes and game them their moment to shine. That didn't go unnoticed, because when he needed help, people came in and gave back to "the Sidekick".

Lesson #2: Beauty that comes from within will outlast any outer appearance.

Farrah Fawcett was beautiful, both inside and out. She stole the hearts of thousands of young boys all across the country. Her light laugh coupled with her stunning smile gave a peek into who she really was. Her eyes told a story that words could not express. You didn't need to personally know Farrah to understand that she was a beautiful human being. Such things can never be explained anyway, it is something that shines from within. She was truly "an Angel".

Lesson#3: Never let go of your inner child.

Michael Jackson began working as a young child. Before he could build a block tower that was tall enough to come crashing down, he was holding a microphone in his hand and entertaining crowds. No time for crayons, play dough, finger paints, sandboxes, or cartoons. He was an entertainer and his job was to give his audience a good show. Couple that with being #7 of 8 kids, with limited funds and it isn't very pretty. He lived his life chasing his childhood, searching for ways to relive it to recreate it. Only to find himself at odds with so many that could never understand his struggle. He fought and he fought hard, he found ways to reconcile the adult he had grown to be and the child he never was. He climbed the proverbial mountain and became "the King".

My generation has lost three of our favorite icons, and I have no doubt that we will lose more in the years to come. I hope that the next generation has icons that are capable of leaving an impression that is not just in the moment but one that touches your heart and challenges the way you see yourself and others.

I Love My Voice

As a child I was often told to be quiet. I had this uncanny ability to project my voice over any size group of kids. No matter how loud they were, I could always be louder. I can remember one hot summer day in Houston, I was playing with a group of kids in our apartment complex. The playground just happened to be in front of our apartment, so my mom always made sure she kept an eye out for all the kids who happened to be playing there. I cannot recall what game we were playing but I do remember clearly that I was "in charge". I found myself in that position often and it earned me the nickname, "Sarge" by the manager of the complex. We were having a good time and I did my best to keep every one of my friends on track, so that the game went smoothly. For quite some time I was explaining the rules to some of the kids that got away from the object of the game. Then I heard my mothers
voice yelling:

"Camille, COME HERE!"

Well, it was never good when she said that. That meant get in the house double time, without delay! So quickly, I ran into the house, and in between pants I answered, "Yes ma'am".

Now my brother and I had this theory that if we came to see what our mother wanted, and left the door open she would talk fast and we could go back out to play.

It never worked.

So, I am standing there, waiting for what seems to be an eternity. My mother looked at me and said, "Camille, you are too loud. I can hear you over all the other kids on the playground. Quiet down, it is not necessary to be that loud. Boys don't like loud girls."

First let me say, my mother meant well. It was her intention to raise a lady. This went along with her lectures about wearing a dress, perfume and not having chipped nail polish. I am truly grateful that my mother loved me enough to do all she knew to point me in the direction of becoming a lady. Thank you Mommie.

At that time, however, I didn't see that. I walked back outside with my head hung low and did everything I could to be as quiet as possible. It was the day, I believe, that I began to silence my own voice. As I got older, I stopped speaking up and eventually I began to speak in such a low tone that people could not understand me. Then I met this DJ.

I was 17 years old and a senior in high school. I was in a stage of trying to "find myself". We had a pep rally and one of the local radio stations hosted the event. Afterwards, we met the DJ's and they signed autographs. One of my friends grabbed me by the arm and forced a now very shy Camille to ask for an autograph. I bent my head down slightly and handed Paco my bumper sticker. He asked me who he should make it out to and I answered, "Camille". He stopped, looked at me and said, "Wow!" "You've got a fantastic voice girl!" I giggled, said thanks and took my autograph. Later I read what he wrote, "to Camille, one of the sexiest voices I've heard in a long time." That absolutely floored me! (it floored my Dad too)

I needed that. I still do. That moment did not totally change my view of my voice. It still took years before I appreciated my deep, contralto voice. But, I remember that moment often and it always brings a smile to my face.

My brother is younger than I am and sometimes people think he is older, because, he did the talking for us whenever we were in a room full of people. I spent a lot of my formative years hiding in the shadow of others for fear that I would be too loud and be labeled a big mouth, loud mouth girl. Finally, my brother looked at me and declared,

"You have a voice that deserves to be heard in this world."

That stayed with me. It still does. Each day now I remind myself that my voice is important and that God made me with a booming voice for a reason. It is part of my purpose, it is essential to my destiny. I no longer view my voice as a negative attribute, but rather as a precious gift that God saw fit to give me because I would know what to do with it.

I no longer hide in shadows of others, nor do I speak so low that no one can hear me and my husband loves the sound of my voice.

God has charged me to speak loudly and declare His wondrous works, to cry aloud like Jeremiah and spare not!

I have a voice that deserves to be heard in this world, and I love my voice!

Forced To Retire

I remember when I was coming up, I heard my parents talking about older people being forced into retirement. I couldn't help but to think that was the most disrespectful and the highest form of disregard ever.

I never thought it would happen to me. At least not this early. I'm only thirtysomething for crying out loud.

But today, it happened.

Today, I took my last appointment.

When I decided to take classes to become a licensed nail technician, I was full of excitement, hope and dreams that I could be successful.

I forgot to factor in one thing.

Clients.

You see clients can make or break you. Their positive or negative comments or the lack of either can affect your business tremendously.
When I first started, I had a lot to learn. I was not very good. I didn't understand the products I was using and I made a lot of mistakes! But as time went on I got better. I even relocated to a larger market. There, I found that my profession was respected and my services were sought after. I worked 6 days a week. I came in early and left late. It was amazing!

When I came back to Toledo, I thought if I utilized the same work ethic that I used there I would get the same results.

WRONG!

I didn't count on people having the attitude that having disregard for someone else was an acceptable way to live. I have seen the best in some people. They made appointments, kept them, showed up on time, paid in full, didn't ask for credit, tipped and then booked another appointment. And then there were the others.

The others are what put me in the place I'm in now. Well, them and the economy decline. I lost the majority of my clients because their income changed.

So today when I got a text message for an appointment I scheduled it. Fully expecting her to show up. Unfortunately, she turned to be one of "the others". Quite honestly, I'm tired.

So after yet another no call no show. I'm hanging up my brush and returning to the regular workforce until I start school. I appreciate my faithful clients and look forward to seeing them from across my table again someday.
Thanks!

I Like My Curves!

Spring is approaching which means summer is just around the corner. I like most people have reassessed my year so far to determine what areas should remain the same and where I should make changes.

Of course the issue of weight came to mind and I began to seriously look into gyms and home exercise equipment. I had more than enough help and advice, one person even told me that I could get a free 30 day trial to a gym, another option would be to join a local gyms version of the biggest loser and compete for prizes while losing weight all on a complimentary membership.
To my suprise, I began to almost obsess about this. I thought of rearranging my schedule to accomodate workout times, I even thought about going to the mall before hours to walk, I figured with all the older people that I would come in contact with, I could have some very interesting conversation while shedding the pounds. This obessession went on for a couple of weeks and then I had to cook for a couple of parties and plan Easter dinner. Needless to say that peach cobbler I made dismissed any notions I had about working out!

After I regained consciousness, I revisited this weight loss thing and decided that my main focus would be to gain stamina so I would not run out of breath when singing. That way, I won't focus so much on losing weight. Doing that can be a hinderance and you end up gaining or worse, doing anything to lose like taking dangerous supplements just to meet a goal.

Now usually when I am thinking on this level, it is late at night when the house is quiet. The television is on but I'm not really watching it, mainly because there is nothing on but infomercials. This particular evening, however, I happened to catch a glimpse of a diet pill commercial. I saw a woman in a bikini next to a slightly larger woman, still in a bikini. Same woman, same bikini, the difference? The little bikini wearing chick was just the larger bikini wearing chick after taking a diet pill!

WHAAAT! Who are they kidding?!?

Okay here's my problem, if you can wear a bikini, then you are not in need of a diet pill! And if these companies want someone like me to buy their product then they need to show a real woman with a weight issue. Shoot, I wouldn't mind being the size of the slightly larger bikini wearing chick! Lord knows if I put a bikini on right now I may get arrested for indecent exposure!

That got me to thinking, is it really a big deal if I can't wear a bikini? I mean I never wanted to wear one anyway. Honestly, I like my curves. When I was in high school, I had no shape whatsoever. And now I have hips! So I really don't want to lose them! I mean sure I've seen cute clothes in the mall, but I am not under 25 and have no business wearing belly shirts and skin tight jeans. I know women that are older than me that dress younger than my 14yr old daughter!

What I want is to put on a pair of jeans with no muffintop, and to walk without starting a thigh fire! That's it. Everything else can stay. I know I will never be pencil thin and trust me, I don't wanna be. I had a checkup and my doctor said all was good I just needed to lose a few pounds.

Maybe I'll go on a diet.

After I eat these cookies...

Living With Passion or Just Getting Paid

This year I made a decision to pursue my passion and not make the amount of my salary my number one focus. The decision came about as a result of being completely unfulfilled at my job I thought I loved.

I became a nail technician because I love art and doing my own nails. I received a lot of compliments on the work I did, I was even recognized nationally for some of my nail art. Sadly the economy, an extreme amount of no call no shows, and people looking for the cheapest deal forced me out of the shop, into my home and eventually stopping altogether.

But that's another story for another time.

Being at home these past few weeks caused me to "review my situation". I did a lot of self reflection and even conquered some things that were hindering my personal progress.

It was in a moment, having a conversation with my kids about choosing the right career path, that I realized I needed to follow my own advice. So, I took the necessary steps to return to college and earn my Bachelor's degree.

The advice I gave my children was to follow their passion.

I wish I would have done that a long time ago. It would have saved a lot of heartache and money spent.

Writing has always been my first love. More than art,more than singing, more than making people laugh.
I had my first "published" article in the fourth grade, as a reporter for my elementary school newspaper. The following year I was named an assistant editor.

It should have been an easy choice from the beginning. However, I allowed others to talk me out of my passion. I noticed the same thing happening to a friend of mine. She's bright, intelligent and hardworking. She is also undecided about her future career. Expressing this in a group setting she had a lot of people giving her "advice". There was a lot of emphasis on how much she could make. No one asked where her heart was or what she loved to do. Just where the money was.

Following a paycheck or perks produces teachers who aren't dedicated, nurses who don't like sick people, computer programmers who would rather be outdoors and people in general who aren't fulfilled with the work they do.

Living for your passion has rewards that cannot be measured in dollars. In these hard economic times, people should do what is in their hearts, because When you work a job, you stand a better chance of succeeding.

You may not be monetarily wealthy, but you will be able to live fulfilled.