The Crossroad

There’s an offer on the table for my boys and I to move to Atlanta.

The offer includes free rent for four months and a free ticket for all of us. My bestfriend who lives there has made this proposition and says it will remain open until November.

Moving to Atlanta would mean learning a new city and its culture. It would mean new schools for my sons and new possibilities for me. It seems like a dream come true…but…I have absolutely no desire to live in that city.

I never have.

The alternative would be to stay here and hope for a miracle.

Why would this door open if I wasn’t meant to walk through?

What do you do when your heart says stay, but your rational mind is telling you, “Baby, at least give it a try. Look at you. There’s nothing here for you. Nothing is working no matter what you do.”

But I have no desire……..

I don’t want to bounce from city to city with my boys. I want to give them a home. I want their home to be here in Miami.

Life is full of choices. I dont think it’s a matter making a right or wrong decision, I think it’s a matter of making the best of the decision you make.


We’ll see.

No Guts No Glory

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Car rented.

Clothes almost packed.

Saying Goodbye to our friends and family.

We hit the road tomorrow morning with a pit stop in Gainesville.

Let’s see what Atlanta has to offer.

Pray for our safe travel!

Failure is only the opportunity to begin again, this time more wisely.
– Anonymous

If You Want Me
You Can Find Me
In The


I am finally here and I have so many stories to tell but no regular internet access just yet! ~sigh~

You won’t buhleeeeve what has happened to me since my last post. All I have to say is, I FEEL GREAT!

It’s so different here! This city has a sleepy vibe so far, but maybe that’s cuz I haven’t been too many places yet and Tamara’s house is so ridiculously comfy that I never want to go anywhere! But I promise to try to break out of my anti-social demeanor and as soon as I get a digi cam I’ll post plenty of pics as I explore.

I’m excited. I’m hopeful. I’m determined and I am so happy to be here with two of my closest friends Kim and Tamara. We haven’t been seperated for even a minute since I’ve gotten here.

God has surely been showing me love through them and I am so blessed to be such a treasured part of their lives. Ya’ll, I must have done something right in my life to be loved as much as I am. And I’m starting to realize that if I want to have happiness I have to let go of the sadness of the past.

No more negativity. No more doubts. The future is to be celebrated and embraced.

I miss blogging so much! I miss chatting with everyone on yahoo. I miss caressing these keys.

I miss you.

Be back soon!

I Don’t Wanna Leave Miami

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Let’s get caught up…

Last Tuesday morning

I have only visited the city of Atlanta once. Back in ’98 during the last year of the infamous Freaknic. I don’t remember much about it except I had a good time with my friends Rick and Mike and we stayed in one of their fraternity brother’s mansions.

After my bestfriend Tamara invited me to stay with her in Atlanta I wasn’t feeling it at all. I mean, every Black person I know acts like Atlanta is the promised land or something. I knew too many people who rushed to live there as soon as they could as if the Georgia air would cure all of their problems.

After writing about it I felt a heaviness on my heart. Why am I so against this idea? Why does my stomache hurt when I think about it? Man, it would be a big move with no guarantees. I could come back a failure and even worse off than I already am. But man.. it’s time to make a move. Believing that God will take care of this $1100 monthly rent is killing my heart. I have to try something else, nothing is working here.

But Atlanta? That’s a long ass drive.

Doesn’t it snow there? Man…I don’t know.

While I’m thinking about my phone rings and I smile and lean back in my computer chair when I see the New York area code.

“What’s up chick?” I say.

“Hey Ms. Tee,” she greets me. “I read your blog girl…”

My chest tightens.

“Girl, I know Miami is like paradise. When I was down there I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was and I promise I have to make sure I get back down there more often,” she continued. “Girl…this opportunity that you have to move to Atlanta..”

“But I hate Atlanta,” I say quickly, cutting her off. “I have always hated it. It’s too far. It’s too–I don’t know. I just know I never want to live there. Have you ever thought of a city that you never wanted to live in? Well, that’s how I feel about Atlanta.”

I sigh as the knot in my chest tightens.

“Well, Ms. Tee. I understand. After living in LA I know that I would not want to live there permanently, but I think my time in LA prepared me for my move to New York. This may be what you need in order to prepare you for your next big step.”

I frown. ~whining~ But I don’t wanna leave Miami. I love living here, we be straight thugs living here.

“Ok,” I tell her. “I hear you.”

“Ok, I have work to do, I’ll talk to you later.”

We hang up and I stretch out across my bed on my stomache and grab my pillow. Man…Now I at least have to see if there’s even a possibilty of me being able to take a trip up there. I don’t have any money. Let me see what Tamara has to say. I jump back into my computer chair and log in.

I shoot Tamara a quick email asking her if she thought I should come up this weekend for a visit. We both look for airline tickets and flight times online and I call my children’s paternal grandmother to see if she or their dad would be willing to watch the kids on Friday so that I could leave during the day. She hesitates and tells me that her son has to work.

I sigh and write Tamara an email telling her that I don’t think their dad or his mom is willing to help.

Yolanda IM’s me and we discuss the possibility of me moving to ATL. It’s as if I’m following in her footsteps and that’s not such a bad place to be. Back in 2004, she moved to ATL on a whim and hustled until she found stability for her family. Now her life is better than ever and she is experiencing blessings that I only hope to experience.

“I didn’t think,” she tells me. “I just picked up and went.”

Tamara emails me with information about a rental car. “You could drive,” she suggests. “Don’t think of it as moving. Change your mindset. Think of it as coming up here for 3 weeks and seeing what happens. If worse comes to worse, you can always go back to Miami and be right where you are right now, hoping for money to pay your rent.”

I sigh.

I relay the information to Yolanda via IM and she says, “My daughter can watch your kids if you have a job interview. She’d be glad to do it!”



Tamara emails me. “I’ll put some money in your account tomorrow.”

Ok. why not? I have a doctors appointment with the boys tomorrow and we can leave the next day. That’s an eleven hour drive from Miami but I’ll stop in Gainesville to see Tonya and that will break the trip up.

I can do this. I can go and see what happens. I’m just sitting here anyway. The boys are out of school so I can’t go on a job interview anyway. No one is calling me for jobs anyway. Their dad won’t even offer to help us keep on the lights. He won’t even ask if we have food to eat and he knows I am not working. ~sigh~ If I don’t make a move now…I don’t know what is going to happen to us.

I’m gonna do it!

Let me start packing…

To be continued…

Bye Bye Bye

We woke up early on Wednesday morning. I had to take the boys to their doctor appointments to get their shot records and such before school started. I dressed them in theri HEAT jerseys. My 4 yr old wearing the SHAQ jersey and my 5 yr old sporting #3 for WADE.

After our appointment we came home and I fixed the boys lunch while Tamara and I looked for car rentals online. She made a reservation for me and I found a ride to pick it up. By the time I got back home I was exhausted. I was supposed to pack for our trip butI gave the boys a snack and took a nap instead.

When I woke up it was time to take the boys to see their Dad to say goodbye. When I first considered moving to Atlanta, I called his mom and informed her, but I told her I was only considering it. I asked her to ask him if he would consider keeping the boys for a couple of months until i got settled. I knew he wouldn’t do it, I just wanted to see what he would say. She called me back saying that YES he would keep the boys, but to let him know when I was leaving.



He’s offering to keep the boys so easily? Hell naw! Even when I was sick, he tried to drop the boys off to whoever he could, something is funny about this. I shrugged it off because I was unsure about the move anyway. Moving takes money and money is what I didn’t have.

But since I decided on a Tuesday that I was leaving on Thursday to visit and see if things would work out, I called his Mom (the go-between because of the restraining order) to let him know that I would be gone for a few weeks with the boys to see if I could find a job in Atlanta. I asked her to get his opinion on the matter and to let me know when he wanted to see the boys to say goodbye. She called me back saying, “He said it is fine. He wants to see them on Wednesday evening around six.” I told her that we already had plans to have dinner at my Mom’s house, but I would see if I could adjust the plans because I knew my boys wanted to see their Dad too.

My boys were excited about going to Georgia to “check it out” as I put it. But I was NOT excited about the drive up there. NOT AT ALL.

When we arrived at their Dad/grandmother’s house their father was sitting on the front porch looking pitiful. This was the first time I laid eyes on him since our court date in January because after the ruling he was no longer allowed to have any contact with me.

From the look on his face, I could tell he was sad. I felt kinda bad that he was sad about his son’s possibly leaving the state, but I figured that this wasn’t a permanent move unless things worked out for me there. Until I found a job, it was just a vacation.

As I sat in the front seat, I unlocked the doors and my sons climbed out of the car. “Come here son,” he called out to my 5 year old. My son ran up to his daddy and his daddy reached down and handed him an envelope. “Give this to your mother,” he told my BooBoo.

My BooBoo eagerly ran to hand me the letter and waved goodbye to me as they all entered the tiny house.

Hmm…A letter from my Baby Daddy. The last time I saw one of these I was submitting to the judge as evidence of his verbal abuse. I was hoping it was money to help us with the trip, but I don’t know I allow myself to even think that this man wants to help us. I torture myself when I do that because I’m always wrong.

I don’t drive away in my little white Chevy Cobalt. I open the letter and read (paraphrased):

Ms. Tee,

I was informed today that you are taking my boys to Atlanta in search of employment for 3 weeks. It would be difficult to search for jobs with them there. They are both excited about the new school year with the gifted program and our 4 yr old on the cusp of learning to write it would be detrimental to remove them at this stage especially when you have not secured employment. Please reconsider allowing them to stay with me, at least until you solidify employment. Please.

I drove away in deep thought, somehow taking my usual route home without even realizing I was driving.

Leave my boys with him? What is he up to? Why would I do that? I don’t feel right about this. But he’s right. it would be easier to look for a job if the boys stayed here for a little while. He is their father. He takes very good care of them. But I’ll miss them. I don’t know what to do. COuld I be without them for 3 weeks? Man…I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this. What if I leave and he doesnt give my kids back? I don’t trust him.

I don’t even get ot of the car when I notice that I am now parked in front of my house. I call my Mama and tell her about the letter. “He’s their father, Tee. Let him be a father. Let him see what it’s like to take care of them day in and day out. He needs that experience.”

“But I don’t think he’s being honest. I think he’s up to something. What if he doesn’t give me my kids back?”

“Girl…he won’t try to keep your kids. He barely sees them now, accept when he has time. He’ll probably be throwing them over here like he always does when he has anything better to do. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them. You never know. He’s trying to step up. I’m actually kind of proud of him.”

I hang up the phone and place my face in my upturned palms leaning on the steering wheel. I cry and cry and cry. I don’t feel right about leaving my boys but…if he’s willing to help I have to let him.

I get out of my car and walk into my house. “Man,” I say and take a whiff. “I smell like corn chips and old bologna. I need a shower.”

But there’s no time for personal hygiene as a light bulb goes off in my head. If I am going to leave my boys with their dad I have to cover my tail. My printer’s broken so I hand write a letter to him:

Mr. Baby Daddy,

I have considered your offer to keep the boys while I am away in Atlanta searching for employment. I plan to take you up on your offer providing you comply with my wishes. While I am away I would like for you to allow my sons to call me at your convenience with updates about their progress. I would also like for you to allow them to call/see my mama because I know that she would love to see them.

Since this is a temporary arrangement, I would like for you to agree that when I call to tell you that I am ready to receive my boys, you will bring them to me, whereever I may reside.

I call my Baby Daddy’s mother and ask her to ask him if he would be willing to talk to me face to face about his request.

She calls me back, “He said he doesn’t need to talk to you. That everything he wanted to say is in that letter and he either wants a yes or a no or you can write him a letter in response.”

“Well, tell him that I want to hear him say to my face that when I call him, he will bring my kids back to me.”

“Well,” she says hotly. “Why does he have to say that? Even if he does say it, he can change his mind at any time! People change their minds all the time!”

“Hold up!” I interrupt her. “Let me call my Mama and put you on 3 way with her because I want her to hear how you are talking to me.”

For some reason both he and his mother get slick with me ALL THE TIME when I am alone, but both behave as charming as presidential candidates two weeks before election when others are around. She has often come to me apoligizing for her slick mouth offering the explanation, “Well, he’s my only son. It’s always been just me and him.”

We hang up and I call her back and she’s as sweet as pie ofcourse. My Mama isn’t on the phone though. My Mama isn’t interested in petty crap like that.

“I have a letter that I want your son to read and if he signs it then he can keep the boys until I get back,” I tell her. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.

I don’t even take a shower though I need to. I hop back into my rental car and glide over there. I walk in and my boys greet me with big hugs as if I had been gone for a whole day.

Their father is sitting on the couch looking at the floor. My 4 yr old is nestled comfortably under his arm. I stand in front of him and hand him the letter with a smile. He doesn’t look up at me. He reads the letter, stands up and signs it beneath my signature.

I smile and fold the letter. I reach out to my boys and explain to them what is about to happen.

“Well boys, guess what? Daddy says he’ll miss you too much if you go to Georgia with me to check it out. So he wants you to stay with him for a little while.”

“A little while?” they ask.

“Yep, a little while. Mommy is going to Georgia to see if she can find a job but I’m sad because I know you are going to have so much fun here with your Daddy! you know how he always takes you to do fun stuff and see cool things like the zoo and stay in nice hotels and play fight? Man…you’re gonna have all the fun and I’m not.” I say in a whiny voice.

“YEAH!” my boys squeal. “YAY!”

“Why don’t you bring me a treat next time you go somewhere fun? You’re supposed to always think of your Mommy.”

“Mommy, I hope one day you can go with me and my Daddy to have fun.”

“Maybe one day, but for now, I want you to have as much fun as you can and tell me all about it ok?”

“YEAH!!!!!!!” they shout in unison.

“I love you Boo Boo’s. Be good for Daddy and grandma. I promise to call and write you a letter.”

“A letter?” my 5 year old asks. “In the mailbox?”

“That’s right,” I tell him and smile. “A whole letter for you in the mailbox with your name on it. And I want you to open it and read it aloud to your brother so he can know what I’m saying.”

“Wow! Ok!”

“Good job, Boo Boo! Give me hugs and kisses, Boo Boo’s!”

We all hug and cuddle and kiss.

“You’re going to Georgia Mommy?” my 4 year old asks as I walk back out to my car.

“I sure am, ” I respond and blow him a kiss.

I sit down and crank up the car and take one last look at my boys. My heart aches. My eyes fill with tears.

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I really hope this is worth it.

to be continued…

Passing Through My Past

On Thursday morning I can’t resist just one more quick hug and kiss for my boys. As much as they make me want to scream, I feel naked without them.

I stop by their Dad/Grandmother’s house and smooch them up before I get on the road.

I hit I95 and my leg is shaking…the right leg which isn’t good because I have to use it to drive. I call Dianna at work and she keeps me company for about an hour. Then it’s just me, my Late Registration CD and the road.

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So I drive.

And drive.

And drive.

And drive.

And drive.

And drive.

I’m sleepy.

My leg hurts.

I’m sleepy.

I gotta pee.

I need gas.

Back to driving.

I drive.

And drive.

And drive.

And drive.

And drive.

What am I doing out here in the middle of nowhere?

What am I doing going to Atlanta?

What if they think I’m weird in Atlanta?

Why am I so scared?

Five and a half hours later I arrive in Gainesville exhausted but excited to see my good friend Tonya. White people are everywhere and I smile to myself. GOOD OL Gainesville! GO GATORS!!!!!

I plan to go to her place and stay for the night and leave again the next day. When I get there she’s still at work and she allows me to follow her to her apartment where I take a nice shower and fall promptly asleep.

She wakes me up and tells me to get dressed. “Do you feel like Soul Food?” she asks.

“No, I don’t feel like going anywhere. I don’t want to see anyone. I want you to cook for me.”

“Get over it. Get up and get dressed.”

“You get on my nerves hoe.”

I get up and get cute. Although my son has passed his ring worm on to me and it made a big round mark on my FACE ~grrrrr!~ I’m trying to feel confident. We agree to go out to dinner to meet Tonya’s new “friend”.

Sometime in between the last conversation that she and I had and now, she has decided that she doesn’t like him anymore. ~sigh~ I’ll never get her ass down the aisle if she keeps this up.

We meet up at one of my favorite restaurants- THE SUPER CHINA BUFFET!

~shake that thang~

I love that place!

We have very interesting conversation including his presumption that I’m a D.I.T. (dyke in training). Hmm…Just because I think all men are assholes, I have a man’s haircut and I call my close friends my life partners he thinks I’m gay.

Hmm….I kinda see his point…but…he ain’t have to say it like that.

After dinner we head back to Tonya’s so that she can change her clothes. I managed to get in touch with my old friend Donnell and he tells me he’s bartending at a club tonight on University. Besides Donnell, my old “work it Daddy” will be there and it will be fun to see his sexy ass again.

So we head on over to the spot and the parking lot is empty when we get there. “work it Daddy” is in the parking lot and he comes over and says Hi and smiles at me.

We both get out of the car and sashay up to the entrance with only our ID’s in hand, obviously expecting not to pay. We smile at the cute doorman as he hands us a wristband and we freeze.

Hell naw!

Hell naw!

Hell naw!


Our mouths drop open.

Dude is a pastor… Or he was… What the hell is he doing working at the club?

“Well, look who it is,” Tonya says sweetly and looks at me. “Do you know who that is?” she asks him and points to me.

“Sure do. It’s Ms. Tee. How are you?”

I glare at him.

We walk by without another word and once we are inside we have to take a breath. We both had this conversation, “If we ever see that man on the streety we were gonna bum rush his ass!”

I felt my body start to tense. But all that went away when I saw my boy Donnell behind the bar.

I walked over, reached out and hugged his neck. felt so good to see him again.

He was always so nice to me even after he broke up with my sorority sister. This man is hands down the BEST cook I have ever met. People come from near an far to taste his homemade gumbo. His cornbread tastes like heaven and when my sorority sister was pledging and I was her big sister, they would throw parties for us and she would have him cook.

MMmmmmM!! Now you KNOW I got love for this man. My mouth waters right now as I reminisce. Geez! I think I’m a little moist. ~shivers~

Anway, he makes us a drink and I sip it slowly and survey the room. The club is empty which is perfect for me because I wasn’t in the mood to be hit on by guys anyway. My “work it Daddy” comes over and talks to us. It’s nice looking in his face. We just look at each other and giggle for most of the night as Tonya shakes and shimmy’s for the guys watching her booty.

Hanging out with Tonya is guaranteed fun!

After just two drinks (and a top-ff compliments of some dude) I’m feelin quite buzzed. and We dance and dancelike we are in our own living room. Before the vultures can get to us, Tonya and I decide to leave.

As we walk out we see Mr. I’m gonna allow you to set my whole life up and take care of me and I’m gonna leave you high and dry with a baby in your belly because I have absolutely no sense.

I eye him closely as we stand in the doorway. His green eyes look just like mine. His light skinned looks sickening to me.

“Why are you so light skinned?” i ask him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” he tells me.

“So you’re the one who has been hunching my friend this whole time?” I ask.

“Step away from the steps,” he tells me. “We don’t want you to fall down.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask him. “Why you tried my friend?”

“Have you seen her?” he says sweetly.

“My friend is out of town,” I tell him and roll my neck.

“No shes not.”

“Yes she is!”

“No she’s not. Watch I’m gonna call her.”

He calls her cell phone. No answer.

He calls her house phone and lo and behold- behold and lo- she picks up.

“See,” he tells me and hands me his phone.

“HOMIE!” I squeal. “Why are you in town? I thought you were going to DC?”

“Girl, I missed the church bus, so I’m home and you can come see me tomorrow.”

“Guess who I am with AT THE CLUB?”

“I know.”

“Girl, I wanna cuss him out!”

“Go ahead. He deserves it.”

“For real?” I ask.

“Go right ahead.

“Ok, BYE!”

I snap the phone shut with a vengeance.

“You are so stupid!” I scream at him. “What’s wrong with you? You’re dumb as hell! You had a good woman! You are stupid! You sitting up here at the club looking like any random dude that even Tonya could pick up and take home! What’s wrong with you, dummy?! What’s wrong with you?! How could you do that to her?!!”

I’m crying and shouting at the same time. Not to my friend. She never did anything to anyone. I’m breathing hard now. I see my chest rising and falling. The security guards inside tell him to step inside the club. He waves them away.

I’m furious.

I take a swing at him, my blow landing on his shoulder.

“Now it’s time for you to go,” he tells me as I continue to curse him. “Take her home,” he tells Tonya.

I’m crying and shaking.

Now I don’t ever think I deserved much from men and I never got it either, but…not my HOMIE. Not my HOMIE! She is a gift from God to this earth. No one can deny it. Men are so stupid. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that for her. She’s almost and angel. i don’t understand.

“It’s okay Tee,” Tonya says and leads me to her car. My head is spinning and all I can think about is this dude in the club while my friend is home with his baby.

I can’t. I just can’t. No one can convince me that there are good men in the world. No one.

We reach home and pass out quickly. I wake up smiling.

My little brother comes over to visit me and we spend some time playing with my niece.

After he leaves I go straight to my Homie’s house and we sit and chat a bit. Since she has to run an errand I’m delighted to get some time with my boyfriend -THE NET. I sit and chat and email a few folks.

The doorbell rings and it’s LEON!


We talk and talk and talk and talk and everytime he tries to leave I change the subject cuz I don’t want him to go. I cherish each conversation with him cuz he’s so much fun! He finally escapes and I’m left alone again.

My Homie calls and asks me to meet her at Cedar River restaurant for lunch. I decline because I don’t want to get too sleepy on the road but I tell her I’ll meet her there to give her a hug goodbye.

Our goodbye is tearful but necessary. “Listen to your sister,” she tells me. “I’m proud of you. You’re gonna do great! Go up there and show’em what you got.”

“Ok,” I mumble through my tears. “I’m scared but…I’m gonna do it.. I’m gonna make it happen.”

I exit the restaurant parking lot feeling renewed. If my Homie says I can do it, then there’s no stopping me!

I gas up and hit the road.


Peace Up, A-Town Down

Stay in between the lines.

Stay in between the lines.

I’m in a trance as I make the second stretch of my 11 hour trip to Atlanta. I begin to recount all the advice ever given to me about driving.

When you’re on the road, as slow as you drive, stay in the right lane.

If you see a car moving up fast behind you, move out of their way and let them pass.

If you’re going too fast through an intersection and the light turns red, don’t stop- keep riding cuz you can’t back up.

When you see a car brake in front of you, you don’t have to press your brakes. Just ease your foot off of the accelerator, your car will slow down automatically.

If your car is ever hydroplaning, don’t press the brakes, it will only make things worse.

When you are driving next to one of those big trucks, focus your eyes on the front of your car. If you even glance at the truck as you pass it, it will feel like it’s sucking you in.

If you see a police car and you know you’re speeding, don’t hit your brakes. It will seem like you’re guilty. Just ease your foot off of the accelerator, your car will slow down by itself.

If a police officer gives you the flashing lights and you’re in a secluded area, put on your hazard lights and drive to a populated place. If he asks why you didn’t stop, tell him you are concerned for your safety.

I see a sign that says Atlanta bypass and I follow the curve to the left.

I ride.

And ride.

And ride.

I look down at my directions.

I’m on I75 North. I’m supposed to exit when I see a sign that says 285 West. Ok.

I drive.

And drive.

I do a double take when I glance at the other side of the divide. Damn! I MUST be near Atlanta because I have NEVER seen a traffic jam like that! It was literally a jillion cars all crammed up on one interstate. Damnnnnnn….

What if someone in that crowd has to pee? What if someone has an asthma attack? You will NEVER get me to drive in that craziness. I would go insane.

I see the sign that says 285 West. I’m supposed to exit on the 2nd sign that says 285 West.



Wait…what happened?

Where is the 2nd exit?

Oh no. I think I missed the circle turn she told me to take.

I’ll pull over. I take the next exit and turn right. I’m at a gas station and all these Georgia people are there. I feel like an alien. Since my phone is a Metro PCS I don’t expect it to work up here but when I take it out to find Yolanda’s number and call her from a pay phone to tell her I’m lost, I see that I have reception.


I call Tamara and relay the news.

“I think I missed the exit.”

“That’s okay, just go the opposite way, back on I75South and get off on 285 West.”

“I don’t want to, I’m scared.”

“Tee. Get back on the Interstate.”

“Ok,” I mumble weakly and climb back into my car. “Don’t hang up.”

I ride a little more and find the 285 West exit.

“What do I do now?”

“Ok, look for 85 South, then get off at the Fairburn exit. That’s you.”

So we’re talking and talking and I’m telling her about my trip. My line beeps and I answer it, it’s my cousin. I talk to her for a second and when I look up, I’m passing by the Fairburn exit.

“Girl, I gotta go. I’m lost.”

I click back over. “Prince. I missed the exit.”

“That’s okay,” she says calmly. “Get off at the next exit and turn around. Get back on 285 and find 85 South, then look for Fairburn.”

“Ok,” I mumble, feeling foolish.

When I turn into her subdivision I am amazed. These houses are huge and all brand new. Does my girl live here for real?

“Keep riding the road and I’ll be on the porch,” she tells me.

When I see her I smile. She never changes. She looks great.

I jump out of my car and we hug.

“We’re wearing the same green shirt,” she says.

“Gay!” I say and we both laugh.

“Come on,” I say and throw both arms in the air in anticipation of a cart wheel. Since we were in highschool, we had this tradition. Whenever we traveled anywhere new and we were together, we’d both do cartwheels in the street to remember the moment.

She looks at me and laughs. “Girl, I can’t do a cartwheel,” she says.

“Why not?” I ask confused.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” she says and walks into her house. “But first you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone. You will keep what I’m about to show you a secret. Promise?”



“Dang! yeah. Geez!” I say as she walks into a room and returns with a piece of paper. Looks like photographs in black and white. What the heck is that? It reminds me of the time when… Wait. Are those sonogram photos? Is that a… baby in those pictures?

“Prince!” I screech and my eyes fill with tears.

“Yep,” she confirms my suspicions. “I found out today.”

The wall catches me as my body goes weak and I slide down onto the wood floors.

“Tee, you okay?”

“Please…just give me a minute. I need a minute,” I say and close my eyes.

“Yep, remember I told you I wasn’t feeling well and yesterday I went to the doctor. Today she called me back and told me she had something to discuss with me but I had to come back in. When I went back in, she asked if she could do a sonogram and I told her sure. As soon as she looked at the screen she said, ‘I was right. Congralulations, you’re pregnant.'”

I’m still sitting there numb.

This is all too much. This is all too much. She just got engaged a few weeks ago. She just moved into this big beautiful house with him. I just got here. Everything is changing too fast. My chest starts to heave. I fish my inhaler out of my pocket and take a puff.


“I’m okay, it’s just…” I begin to cry. “I’m so happy for you. Everything is falling into place. You are so blessed. You are so blessed. We’re growing up dawg. I mean…we’re all grown up and stuff making grown up moves. I still feel like we’re teenagers. But we’re not. You’re having another baby. You’re getting married. Ooh! Let me see the ring.”

She smiles and showcases the ring for me. It’s dainty for her dainty little fingers. It’s the 2 karat diamond engagement ring from the Tiffany legacy series in a platinum setting with graduated sidestones.


“Tee, are you ready to see the rest of the house?” she asks.

“Ok,” I say and finally get up from the floor.

Tamara’s house is beautiful. From her master bedroom, to her beautifully decorated living room. Her kitchen has an island in it like the kitchens in all those sitcoms.

Her daughter’s room is beautifully decorated and she shows me the guest bedroom upstairs.

We walk out back onto the patio area. There’s a cozy deck with a nice grill set up. “This is where we barbecue or just sit outside and have drinks.”

She leads me into a small hallway past the most attractive set of washer and dryers that I have ever seen. We go down a staircase into what I presume is the basement and my mouth drops open as I enter the entertainment room.

I feel like I’m on CRIBS.

There’s a pool table ofcourse, with stylish pool balls and there’s a wet bar with two slushee machines filled with alcohol. Around the corner I see a leather couch set and plasma TV set up like a living area. The entire room is decorated in purple and gold as a tribute to her fiance’s fraternity.

Next to the pool table is another leather couch set and a hug plasma TV. There are 3 more TV’s on the walls and a stylish table with stools all around it in pruple and gold. This feels like a sports bar.

“Let me show you outside,” she says and opens the back door.

Ahhh! A jacuzzi!

“It seats 7 people and warms up to the exact degree you want it,” she tells me.

“Wow girl, you are off the chain.”

“I’m not done,” she says and we walk back inside.

We open a door.

“This is a storage area. There’s nothing in it but I’m sure we’ll find something to put in it,” she laughs.

She opens another door. “This is the excercise room, but we don’t have equipment yet.”

“Prince this looks like the dance studio on Making the Band,” I say and go into my old dance routine from college.

Kick, step, step.
Kick, step, step.
One-two. One-two.

I admire my moves in the wall to wall mirrors and look a little closer. Ugh…I really need to shave or pluck these hairs out of my chin. I look like an ugly chubby boy. Damn estrogen!

We move from the dance room and open another door. “This is what we like to call the Control Room,” she says and flips the light on. It looks like an electronic nightmare. “Everything is wired to this room.”

We walk out and she opens another door. I walk in. WOW! Am I on TV or something? It’s the same set-up the celebrities have. You know, those private movie rooms with the wall to wall screen and the projector and the huge reclining leather chairs. She has one in her house!

“Wow! It’s your own movie theatre dawg!”

She laughs, “You are so stupid.”

“Girl,” I say as I sink into the soft leather, “If you put the internet on this screen, I would go crazy!”

“You and your internet?” she laughs. “Girl, you are too much!”

Come on, just one more room.

We walk into the next door. It’s another guest bedroom that is almost as big as my living room back home. Ofcourse the bedroom has a private bath off the side.

I’m exhausted by this time.

We go back upstairs and relax on the leather sofa.

“You hungry?” she asks me. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Girl, I’m not making my Atlanta debut looking like a monster,”I tell her, guesturing toward my attire: green top, hospital scrubs and flip flops.

“Girl, ain’t nobody looking at you. We just going into pick something up. You like soul food don’t you? I’m taking you to Ann Laura’s.”

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

We hop into her truck and ride down the street.

Hmmm…. This looks so…country. Small townish. Where are the people?

When we arrive at the restaurant Tamara explains that the people here are the exact opposite of the people in Miami. “Everyone here is actually nice. I couldn’t believe it when I went to the store and people actually smiled at me and asked how I was doing.”

“They what?” I ask her as we walk into the restaurant.

“I’m not lieing. They smile and speak as if they care about you.”

“Stop playin!”

“Girl, the people who work at places like restaurants or even the grocery stores, they act like they actually LIKE their jobs. They are always pleasant.”

“Stop playin!”

“I’m not lieing.”


We approach the buffet line and my mouth salivates at the sight of mashed potatoes, smothered pork chops, fried fish, turkey wings, collard greens, corn bread, peach cobbler and sweet potatoes.

“You can have anything you want,” Tamara tells me.


I choose my dishes and sides and dessert along with a sweet tea. The woman serving the food sees my amazed face.

“She’s new to Atlanta,” Tamara explains to her. “Her first time here.”

“Well,” she says in a slow, southern drawl. “You’ll definately be back.”

Before we leave I see a newspaper stand with a free magazine and I grab one to see what kind of publications are here so that I can start contacting them for freelance work.

When we reach home, my other good friend Kim calls my phone and tells me she is on her way to Tamara’s house to see me.

We all stand around inhaling the delicious food and talking about how great life is. Kim thumbs through the magazine I picked up at the restaurant. “This is a good magazine, dawg. I enjoyed it.”

Hmmm. I’ll contact them on Monday to see if they need a good writer.

The door opens and in walks a young tenderoni. It’s Byron, Tamara’s fiance’s cousin. He lives with them. “Hello,” I say and it reminds me to make a pact with Tamara.

“Tamara,” I need your help. “Promise me that no matter what I say, you will NOT allow me to talk to any of these guys up here. I have to focus on my career and becoming stable for my sons.”

She stands up and walks away laughing. “That’s on you Tee. I have nothing to do with that.”

“Promise me!” I plead. “I can’t be distracted like I was in Miami and I never want to go through what I went through with Dude.” My heart aches just thinking about it. I’m so glad that’s over.

“Dawg, that’s on you.” she says and laughs.

“You suck, chick,” I tell her.

We all sit down on the sofas with our full bellies and Tamara says, “Hey, lemme take a quick nap and we can go out later, just to ride out so you can see the actual city.”

“Ok,” I tell her and look over at Kim who is also half asleep.

“Wake me up in an hour,” Tamara says and goes into her room.

“Me too dawg,” Kim whispers and heads for the upstairs guest room.

They make me sick. I’m not the least bit sleepy and I’ve been driving all day.

At 12:15 I walk into Tamara’s room and nudge her. “Prince, it’s time to get up.”

“No Tee. I can’t. I promise we’ll go out another time. I’m too sleepy.”

I go up to Kim’s room. She’s snoring.

I hate these chicks.

I take out my VIBE magazine with Keysha Cole on the cover and put on my glasses. I sit down in the living room to read. Tamara’s little cousin in law Byron walks into the kitchen and starts to fry some chicken. He looks to be around 22 or 23.

“You can’t sleep?” he asks me.

“No. So I guess I’ll read a little bit.”

When his chicken is done he offers me a few pieces and I’m not really in the mood but I don’t want to be rude so I take two chicken wings. Mmmm…Im glad I did. His Mama must have gave him a lesson or two.

“Let’s go downstairs and watch Making The Band on TIVO,” he suggests.

“Sure,” I say and grab my blanket.

We head down to the basement and get comfy on the soft leather. He finds the program on TIVO and I look at him in amazement as he laughs at Andrea when her boyfriend breaks up with her.

He sees my perplexed expression. “Look,” he says in the most thick country accent I have ever heard. “I tell ya whut. No need to analyze why he’s doing what he did. There are only 3 reasons why he would break up with this guhl on TV. 1) He’s f**ing someone else. 2) He’s f**ing someone esle. 3) He’s f***ing someone else and he still wants to keep her on the side.

I laugh. The male mentality.

“Come on let’s go out,” he says.


“This spot called The Ritz. We can lean wit’ it rock wit’ it.”

“Lean wit’ it, rock wit’ it? Sorry, I don’t know how to do that.”

“Whut?” he asks me. “Do you at least like T.I.?”

I frown. “No, he has a bird chest.”

He stares at me with a blank expression. “If you don’t like T.I. you can’t live here. He’s the biggest rapper out right now.”

“For real? I thought that was Lil Wayne.”

He looks at me as if to say, ‘You’re killin me Smalls’.

“Is T.I. from here?” I ask innocently.

Another blank look.

“What? I thought he was from Houston or something.”

If looks could kill….

“Come on, let’s go in the dance room and I’ll show you how to do the snap dance,” he offers.

“Yay!” I squeal.

We walk into the dance room and position ourselves side by side on the wood floors in front of the mirror. The Lean Wit’ It Rock Wit’ It song blares from the system as he demonstrates the dance. I try to follow his movements but I can’t get the mechanics right.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he tells me.

No, I’m not. It’s a hip shift with a shoulder swirl and back again with a hand snap and a simultaneous head pop. I can do this.

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We practice a little more until the song changes. I just can’t get the fluid motion that he has but I can tell that dance must look so cool when a club full of people are doing it.

“Look at this,” he says doing some sort of hand sign that looks like a bird.

“What’s that?”

“It’s 3-0-5.”

I smile. “3-0-5! Take it to the house!” I sing.

“No,” he interrupts me. “No more 3-0-5,” he tells me.

No more 3-0-5?

“Now it’s, Peace up, A-Town down.” He raises his hand in a V for the peace sign, then reverses it downward like an A. “Do it.”

Peace up. A-Town down?

I copy his hand motions.

“ATL Shawty!” he repeats, a few times while folding his arms across his chest and popping his head like a gangsta.

“ATL Shawty!” I mimic him. “Peace up. A-Town down!”

“That’s right!” he says and we continue to dance.

We both jump when we hear laughter just outside the room. We turn around. It’s Tamara with her camera phone filming us. “Ya’ll are sooo stooopid!” she says and falls out laughing.

“Shut up Prince.”

Shortly after she leaves with her video we both go to bed.

My first day in the A.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

The Rest of the Story…

My first weekend in Atlanta went by in a blur. We went to go pick up Tamara’s daughter and came home and relaxed basically. We stopped by Tamara’s apartment to unload my clothes and see the place.

This is the place that she has offered for me to stay. A cute 2 bedroom townhouse in Smyrna. All of her furniture is here. I don’t need anything. But since I am going to share her car as I do my job search, I have to stay with her in the big house and drop her off to work.

It’s Monday morning and we all get dressed. There’s a job employment agency in her building so we both go to her side of town, in a spot called Dunwoody. She prints out a couple of my resumes and I walk around her building looking for open doors and handing my resume to them. ~smile~
I go downstairs and sign up with the employment agency. Then I head down the street to another employment agency and drop my resume off before I head back to the apartment to go down my list of publications that I need to contact. Once I’m there I take off all of my clothes and get online. Ahhh…the internet… I revise my resume to include my new address and revamp it to showcase my creative writing side.

I pull out the magazine I picked up the first day in town at that Ann Laura’s restaurant and I shoot them an introductory email with some writing samples. I then shoot off the same email to one of the Black papers here. I spend the rest of the afternoon making a list of the places I want to contact and before I know it, it’s almost time for me to go back to the employment agency for skills testing.

As I am getting dressed my phone rings. I answer and raise my eyebrow.

It’s the first magazine that I contacted. The editor wants me to come in for an interview that same day. “I can’t today,” I tell her. “I have an appointment at 3:30. But I can come in the morning.”

“Wow!” Tamara says when I call her to tell her I already have an interview for the next day. Scratch that, two interviews since one of the businesses in her building actually put me on the schedule to be interviewed when I was there.

The next morning I drive over to the magazine and the editor greets me with a smile. She sits me down at a desk and hands me some headphones. “All you have to do is listen to this interview and write a 250 word story based on what you hear. Be sure to include quotations because for some reason when I give this test, most people don’t do that.”

I raise my eyebrow. Who writes a story without quotes?

An hour later I’m done with my story and I print it out and hand it to her. She reads it and then hands it to a copy editor for proofing. It is sent to another copy editor as I wait in the lobby.

She comes out smiling and we go into the conference room. She hands me the story back. It has 3 red marks on it. Two missing comma’s and I spelled the word ‘yay’ when they say it should have been ‘yea’. Ok, I can deal with that.

We talk for a bit and she says she’d love to offer me a position on her staff. But first I have to meet the publisher who seems like a hard hitting dude with a soft heart. “You’re fine,” he says and half-smiles. Get her over to the CEO and he can do the numbers with her.”

“The CEO is not here today but if you come in tomorrow at 10 am, you two can meet.”

The next day is Wednesday and since I didn’t get lost this time, I actually got there 45 minutes early. I’m sitting there staring into space when the editor says, “Well, we won’t have you wasting time. Let’s get you to start working on a few stories.”

I came to Atlanta to find a job and just one day after I began my search, I received my first offer.

I have been working full time as a writer for the magazine ever since, fumbling as I learn new procedures and getting to know the publication and the city better.



All kind of emotions have been coursing through my body since I began working. I’ve had feelings of pride and awe. I have thanked God profusely for the opportunity to not only have a job, but to have a job in the field that I majored in, in college.

I also feel extremely frustrated with the traffic. Dammit! Sitting in the traffic really makes me doubt if I want to live here. You don’t understand. You’ve only HEARD about Atlanta traffic. This shit ain’t no joke! It’s not cute. It’s not fun! And it was RAINING today! I almost choked myself in the car…I have no patience for this….

I’m scared because my job requires extensive travel and I’m not used to asking people for help with my kids. My current salary is low ya’ll. They don’t call us starving artists for nothing.

It’s been one helluva emotional rollercoaster. I don’t know how I feel from one day to the next. I talk on the phone with my sons every night and it’s good to hear their voices but…I wish I was there with them. I wish I could give them their heart’s desires. I wish I could do it better for them where I could afford to do nice things with them.

I’m so scared. Ya’ll I’m so scared. I want everything to be alright but there’s no guarantees. So many people have reached out to me and I accept most of their offers but at the same time I feel like a leech for having to depend on people for money, rides and a place to live. I know that God provides and maybe this is a season for me to reap what I’ve sown all those years when I was nice to people but my heart just won’t allow me to receive.

I miss them. Ya’ll don’t know. It’s hard to stay focused on my job because of the mess their father is pulling.

I was right ya’ll. My intuition was right. He’s trying to keep my boys. He said he won’t give them back to me. He even got some lawyers to draw up some papers saying I couldn’t come get them. Ya’ll, this hurts.

He tricked me.

He tricked me.

I hurt from my heart to my fingertips. I miss my sons and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to get to Miami to get them anytime soon.

I try to remind myself that I’m at the birthing point. The intense pain before the joy. I try to remind myself that my boys will be stable no matter where I am. They will love me no matter what but… right now I feel weak, insignificant and unable.

Tonight I was able to allow myself to purge. I removed my clothes and sat on the bed and just shed the strong pretense that I have to carry. I cried and I kicked and I howled like a child. I questioned God. I told Him that I understand that it’s necesary to struggle but I’m tired of being down. I’m tired of fighting and not being good enough.


God what’s up?


WHAT IS UP?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



I need that touch.

I need that touch.

I don’t think I’m as strong as I appear to be. I know I’m not as smart as these glasses make me look.

It’s my baby’s birthday.

Six years ago today I became a mother for the first time. He started first grade yesterday and I wasn’t there to take him to school. I wasn’t there.

I wasn’t there.

I’m exhausted.

I’m worn out.

I need some rest.

Lemme go get some rest.


I feel so much better today.

Getting all of that angst out of my system helps me to feel better and I’m glad I don’t have to hide what I’m really feeling.

Yesterday I received the sweetest surprise at work. When I was hired I was told that my position would be half admiisrative and half editorial but until yesterday I have only been writing stories. To my surprise I received my job description for the administrative half and it turns out that my position is Content Manager for the magazine.

The Content Manager is responsible for overseeing the editors, freelance writers and overall production of the content of the magazine. My job is to make sure that the writers are meeting their weekly word count goals and to provide direction on the scope of the content. Basically, I’m the next best thing to an editor. In fact, I sit in on all management meetings and all of the writers are accountable to me.


This is like, my DREAM position because I love to motivate others to do well. I’m sure the writers won’t think I’m a good person because I will have to be on them about performing their job duties but I promise I will make it fun and exciting for them if they meet their weekly goals.

When we have our first editorial meeting (after I finish outlining my course of action and new policies for the writers to follow which will include increased accountability, training classes twice a month and written repercussions for writers who do not meet their goals as well as incentives for writers who exceed their goals) I plan to explain to them that I am not their babysitter but I am more like a coach, intent on helping them to accomplish their goals and to sharpen their skills as writers.

We do have several excellent writers on staff and I hope to learn from them myself as I will have a weekly word requirement too (I’ll give myself one).

I have been on this job less than two weeks and already I have a management position. I’m not worried about the salary just yet. Watch me blow their minds, increase productivity by using positive reinforcement instead of negativity and then I will ask for my raise. Even if I don’t get it, the experience I am gaining is priceless.

I can’t imagine becoming any happier than I am right now.

Think about it. I work for an Urban Lifestyle Weekly. I will tell you which one next week. Yeah, we have personal interviews with celebrities on every cover but everyday I interview the top executives in various disciplines of business asking them questions about how they gained success in life and business and writing profiles of them to feature in the paper. I’m not talking about Joe Blow at the corner store, I’m talking Fortune 500 companies, I’m talking about CEO’s and national award winners. I am gaining so much wisdom during these interviews as well as introducing myself to a variety of people who have achieved the very goals that I hope to achieve.

As Ryan would say, If I continue to surround myself with people who are doing better than me and I am eager to learn from them, one day I will be among the ranks and I can reach back and pull someone else up.

That is a common theme I have learned from the business leaders. Those who achieve the most success share their knowledge with others freely. They all seem to be eager to help, therefore assuring their consistent growth.

I’m blowed ya’ll. And not in the ‘I just put out the blunt’ type of way. I’m blowed by my life and the wonderful people who surround me, lifting me up when I fall down and speaking LIFE to me every step of the way.

In the future as I continue my climb towards my destiny I think everyone should know that I would not have made it without the friends that God placed in my life who are more inspiring to me than I could ever be to others.

God, please bless them beyond measure and allow me to be even more of a blessing to others.


I Feel Pretty

I fell asleep in tears last night. My mind is jumbled with all of the decisions that I have to make and I’m not good at making decisions. I’m one of those people who needs to get educated opinions from my friends, then consider them all and make the final choice. I’ve accepted that about myself. Because I trust my friends and consider them intelligent people, I’m glad that they are there to help me figure stuff out.

Even though I fell asleep all tense, somehow I had a freaky dream. And get this- It was about this guy who works in the marketing department at my job. Ewww! I have programmed my mind to reject the idea of desiring a penis. So even though I meet men, I take their cards and all, I don’t call any of them. I’m not ready. I don’t trust myself not to get into a situation like I did with Dude. I don’t want that to happen again. PLUS- I’ve had my fill of penis for the year.

Anyway, so in my dream I’m sitting in the living room and this man from the marketing department walks in. He’s all chocolatey and delicious looking. He has glasses like mine too. He’s stripping for me. He starts to undress, first his shirt, then his pants and oh my- he’s not wearing underwear. He dances for me and starts to kiss me and I let him. Until he moves down to kiss my stomache.


Ewwww! I flinch. My jelly belly is not the cutest sight. But he doesn’t seem to care and I allow him to kiss me over and over. he he…Enough details for you. Now, I’m afraid I will blush too hard when I see him today. LOL!

Crushes are fun when you don’t reveal them. I think I’ll let him be my new fantasy man. I hope he doesn’t ruin it by actually trying to talk to me.

Things are much better today than they were a few days ago. I’m still going over and over in my mind about how I’m going to be able to support my family on this salary. The cost of living is cheaper but I now have more bills. Health insurance, double taxes cuz Georgia takes state and federal taxes out of your paycheck, as well as aftercare bills for both my sons have to be calculated into my budget, which leaves me with barely any money, actually I’m at zero and my allocation for rent is minimal. I don’t know ya’ll.

I also feel like I need a new car. My car is in Miami and it’s been good to me but I think it’s time to move on. In a dream world, I would love to give it away to my cousins who have kids but no car. It would make a world of difference in their lives, even though it’s not in the best of shape. They can all share it.

I’m not sure if I can even drive it up here, but I guess I’ll have to try. Ima be real about it, maybe I feel like I need a new car because I’m tired of feeling unsuccessful. Now I see why new college grads run out and get themselves into debt by purchasing a shiny new vehicle. They have worked so hard to finish school and they want to have something they can be proud of in their possession. Some people say, “Don’t do it! WAIT- save for later.” But I once heard a story about a young man who stressed himself so much during college to get straight A’s and get the right internships. He allowed himself no fun, thinking he’s work hard now and play hard later. A week after his graduation he died.

That really hit home.

I’ve never been the show off type, but I do like nice things. I’m not into labels or name brands at all. Let me stop being like this. If my car can make it up here I will continue to drive it. My priority is to save money so that I can get a nice place for me and my sons. Success may be all around me, but one day I will get there too.

If the hooptie makes it to ATL, I will tape the damn rearview mirror back on, tape the passenger window up, and continue to have to roll down the window in order to reach outside my car and open the door since the inside door handles don’t work anymore. The engine hasn’t even cut off since April. I may be okay. If you guys don’t hear from me after I take my trip- come get me- I’m stuck on the turnpike. LOL!

Last night Tamara suggested we get together with Kim to celebrate the publication of my first story. The magazine came out yesterday all over Atlanta and in 19 other cities across the US.

“Let’s go get some dinner and then go to a movie,” she suggested.

“Prince,” I said slowly. “Why would we go out to a movie when you have a movie theatre at your house?”

She laughed.

“It’s not time to celebrate yet. I have so many other things to settle.”

“But Tee, you haven’t even been here for two weeks and you’re published in one of the biggest publications here.”

“Yeah but…I have so much more to do before I am settled. It’s just a story. Let’s celebrate later.”

We watched Run’s House last night. I have a love/hate relationship with that show. I love it because I love how the family is so cool and the wife is so sweet and all of the kids are just beautiful. But I hate it because I never had a daddy like that. It’s as if he has the heart of God for his children. Whatever they want, he makes it happen. They trust him completely and they never have to worry that things won’t work out for them.

I wish I could trust God like that. In a way I feel like I go to God as a beggar, hoping he takes mercy on me and grants my request. The Bible says go boldy before the throne…I go in with my head bowed, asking for very little because in a way, I’m not sure if he cares enough to even want to make me happy.

Yeah…it’s hard to change that mentality, but I’m working on it. Funny how my friend Kim is the exact opposite. Kim will pray like this, “Come on Daddy! You gotta do this Daddy! You KNOW I need it!” Like a spoiled little girl who is used to getting her way. “He loves me and He knows I work hard. I can ask Him for anything I want and I know He will provide,” Kim says.

I love that about her. Her earthly father is the same way, so I know it’s not much of a stretch for her to believe that her father in heaven loves her more.


I look pretty today.

That’s always a plus.

The beautiful thing about all this drama and uncertainty is, when I wake up in the morning I am excited to go to work. That’s a very nice feeling.

Have a great weekend!