Bye Mom.

Peggy Lewis Page
December 29, 1942 - April 25, 2014
My loving mother

I'm at work typing this now. I can't be sad, at least not yet because looking at that picture always has and continues to make me smile. She really was awesome, in the truest sense of that word.

I think I was seven and I wanted my hair like that!

Baby Peggy

Her death was brought on by advanced COPD. She had bacterial pneumonia and ARDS (acute respiratory distress syndrome). She was on a ventilator and within a few days the doctor said that it was basically doing all her breathing for her, that she was unable to breathe on her own. As her healthcare power of attorney, I was given an option to subject her to a tracheostomy and peg tube. She's had those before, when she was fourteen years younger and the COPD was less advanced. She was able to get off of both within a three-week time frame. But this time around, ARDS was now present, and both the trach and the peg tube would have been permanent. She would have been unable to talk or eat. Walking had become laborious, and without a second carpal tunnel surgery, she was facing the loss of the use of her dominant hand. She would have been placed in a nursing facility that was equipped to care for trach patients, as she would not have been able to live in a residential environment any longer. She was already on four liters of oxygen. 

Crowned Miss Junior at Bluefield State College

As her daughter, I knew the choice I was going to make before the doctor finished explaining everything. My mother and I had this conversation many times. She also spoke about this with her sisters, so I had the full support of my family when I told them to take her off the ventilator. I'd be lying if I said that was a hard decision; it wasn't. I was simply doing what my mother told me to do. Once I made the decision, the doctor, who had been extremely objective throughout the consult, breathed a sigh of relief. He said he felt that was the best decision and that he would not have subjected his own mother to that type of existence, with her myriad conditions. Besides, I've always been slightly afraid of my diminutive mother. She never raised a hand to me, but I know she would have tried everything she could have to kick my ass if I subjected her to that treatment. 

Hot Momma!

She never really regained consciousness. She was mildly sedated due to the ventilator, so every now and then, she'd wake up and try to talk and gesture. She made faces and shook her head. Before we knew the full extent of her condition, my aunt told her she was getting better, mostly we knew aside from the respiratory condition, that nothing else was life threatening. My mother shook her head no. She tried to say my daughter's name, or at least that's what we've decided she was trying to say. She mouthed the word home to me. I repeated it back to her and she shook her head yes. I don't know if she's home, but I do believe she is at peace. Love you Momma.

She loved teaching.

Peggy was born on December 29, 1942 in Blacksburg, VA, to John and Lucille Page, the youngest of three girls. Peggy graduated from Park Central High School in 1960. She moved to Baltimore, Maryland, where she attended Apex Beauty School. She worked there for a year before deciding to return to her hometown of Bluefield, West Virginia, where she enrolled at Bluefield State College. During her college years she was very active in civil rights and public service. She was initiated into the Beta Pi Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority in 1964. Upon receiving her degree in 1966, she moved to Cleveland, Ohio, where she began teaching elementary school with the Cleveland Metropolitan School District. She married Valmore Samuel Jr. in 1967 and welcomed their daughter that following year.

Mom & Dad in happier times.

Peggy spent many years working in public service. She actively supported the civil rights movement by participating in sit-ins and boycotts as a college student and as a member of the local NAACP chapter of Bluefield, WVA. She was a member and officer in the Cleveland Chapter of the Junior Women’s Civic League. She also served in many positions as a member of Mt. Nebo Baptist Church, including children’s choir co-director.

My 31st Birthday. She rarely took photos after that.

Peggy retired from the Cleveland Metropolitan School District in 1997, where she taught as a first grade teacher for 30 years. She had a passion for the creative arts and was a talented painter and crocheter. She was an avid bowler and a voracious reader and loved crossword puzzles. 

My first birthday.

Her parents preceded her in death. Peggy is survived by her daughter Valerie Rebecca Samuel (Beckie); granddaughter Hailey Carter and grandson Zachary Brooks; sisters Lois Page Roberts (LeRoy-deceased) and Betty Page Miller (Moreno); niece Monica Reese (William); nephews Carl Bradford, Mark Bradford and Scott Salaam; grandniece Lauren Reese. She is fondly remembered by a host of friends and extended family.

Recap My Life 2013

Books.
I spent most of my time reading easy readers.  I wanted to complete my goal of reading 50 books this year. I didn't though.  If I read good books, I never want to finish them.
Sex, Drugs, Gambling and Chocolate.
The Artist's Way
The Walking Dead Compendiums
Notes from a Writer's Book of Cures and Spells
Music.
Bangerz by Miley Cyrus. Wrecking Ball wins psycho-listen track of the year, according to my iTunes.
Unorthodox Jukebox by Bruno Mars
Yeezus by Kanye West
Les Claypool
Stick Up Kids by Bad Rabbits. Came out in 2009 but my daughter introduced me to the group this year. BR led me to...
Antibalas
Alone Together. Daley and Marsha Ambrosius

Movies.
The Beginner's Guide to Endings. Highly recommend this.
Pacific Rim. I loved this movie, but I'd only recommend this to nine year old boys who like robots and dinosaurs.

Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure.
Virtual relationships
Secret Social Media
Fetish lifestyle. Unlike E. L. James, I'm conducting research. Yes, that's what I call it.
Cybersex
Rihanna's Instagram

Colors.
No more black in 2014. I wear black everyday but if you ask me my favorite color I'd run down a list that could fill a crayola box - 16 count. So why am I wearing so much black?

Drink.
Water. Oh you do me better than that sexy bitch Chardonnay. I never thought I could, but I quit all alcohol. Best decision ever, once I understood why I needed to do it.
SanPellegrino. When I want a nice drink after a long day, the blood orange takes the edge off.

Movies.
I don't often go to movies. But when I do, I resent the hell out of the ticket price I have to pay. Which is why I don't often go to movies.
Pacific Rim. Yes, again!

TV Shows.
Scandal...Escandalo!!! Tony Goldwyn as President could get it.
Dexter. You were just fucking awful this season.True Blood, get it together.
Orange is the new Black

Wish List.
Last year I wished for iWeightloss, iMoney, and iMan. Well, two out of three ain't bad.

Triumphs.
Fun Fitness
Living la vida sober
Life as a local assistant director
45 by 45
Back to the pad again. Meditation.
New and renewed connections with friends - virtual and local.

Travels. New Category!
Long Beach, CA
GOBA
Chicago

Create. All things hobby related.
Cosplay
Writing
Stage Manager
A.D.

Losses.
Gall bladder
My suit of armor
Lee Thompson Young. Bipolar Disorder.
Martin Manley. Suicide.
Elmore Leonard
Jim Kelly
Bobby "Blue" Bland
Roger Ebert
Chinua Achebe
Mindy McCready
Valmore Samuel Jr.

Bye Daddy

VALMORE (Big Val) SAMUEL JR., age 78, passed away peacefully on October 22, 2013. He was born on October 25, 1934 in Huntington, WV. He was also known as Valmore (Junior) Hill. His mother, Rebecca Robinson, preceded him in death. Val graduated in 1954 from Douglass High School. While there he lettered in basketball and football. He received an athletic scholarship to Marshall University. After a year of college, he enlisted in the 178^th Ordinance of the Army at Fort Bragg, NC.

He moved to Cleveland, Ohio in the early 1960’s in search for a better life. He joined Mt. Nebo Baptist Church and served as a Sunday school superintendent and usher. He married in 1967 and had one child. During this time, Val completed additional studies to earn credentials as a machinist. He was employed with Osborn Manufacturing Company, where he was subsequently elected union president. He was later employed by Fisher Body and ultimately retired from General Motors at Parma in 2004 after 19 years of service.

He was actively engaged in his community. He attended local civic and street club meetings.  He coached boys’ basketball and girls’ softball, and also served as booster club president at Christ the King Elementary School.

Big Val’s favorite pastimes included softball and basketball. He was also an avid weightlifter and bowler. He enjoyed attending cabarets and taking casino trips. He was a very proud grandfather and loved spending time with his grandkids and barbecuing in the backyard. He was often seen in the neighborhood sitting on his porch eager to chat with anyone who stopped by. He enjoyed listening to blues, gospel and soul music.

Survivors include his only child Valerie Rebecca (Beckie); a granddaughter, Hailey; and a grandson, Zachary. The family would like to thank the caring and able staff at Wyant Woods Care Center in Akron OH.

No More Gall Bladder!

So at the beginning of October, I had my gall bladder removed. Back in August, I went to my general practitioner for a routine yearly exam. My last exam had been two years prior, and then she thought my liver enzyme count was high. I reasoned that was due to my intimate relationship with Chardonnay. I decided to stop drinking earlier this year, and I was curious as to how this would impact those test results. My doctor called the very next day and said I needed to have an ultrasound. My enzyme levels were now even higher than they were two years ago, despite me quitting all forms of alcohol months prior to the exam. After the ultrasound, she called and asked me to do a HYDA scan. You're injected with some kind of gorp and you lie in a, well a scanner and they take liver selfies.

I will never not hope for an alien abduction to happen at a time like this. 

The bottom-line results? A Cholecystectomy...stat. Or within the next four weeks if I wanted to avoid a gall bladder attack. Which I did want to avoid. Not only did I have at least one stone, my gall bladder just quit working; it was non-functioning. Petulant bastard.

The thing is, when my doctor first suggested there was a problem with my gall bladder, I was in disbelief. I didn't think I had any symptoms. But when I really though about it, I had; I just didn't know the cause. I've spent most of 2013 year cleaning up my diet, eating primarily plant based, whole food meals. I've also upped my workout game. But the weight loss was slow and I still felt rundown all the time. Not to mention the weird and awful noises that came from my belly. You can imagine the rest. I just figured it was typical getting older and being fat, although I was really working hard to change that. Apparently I have an awfully high tolerance for discomfort. Which is not a good thing.

So I went in on September 30 and came out October 1 minus my gall bladder. And now eleven days later, I feel so amazingly better it's damn ridiculous I didn't seek help for my symptoms sooner. I have three teeny weeny cuts on my abdomen where there were ports and one inside my navel (eww), but you can barely see them. I can now sleep on my right side (I couldn't do this without getting naseous), I don't have a horrible taste in my mouth anymore, and my back doesn't hurt.

Everything I've read about life sans gall bladder says to stay away from fried foods, even though my surgeon said I could eat whatever I wanted. Whatevs dood, I'm never seeing you again unless we run into each other at the gas station. I'm so glad I made changes to my diet already, so this is no big deal for me. I haven't had a fried anything since forever. Seafood is still on my menu, but I just generally don't like meat. I mean I can do without it. So I do. I eat greens, beans, onions mushrooms, berries & seeds...GBOMBS baby!

I feel like I can concentrate better and longer and I think my general disposition is much better. I'd gotten to the point where I made choices about what I did socially based on how far away from a bathroom I would be. 

That's no bueno for a hot MILF like me.

via

50 Questions, #3: Whose life is it anyway?

"If life is so short, why do I do so many things I don’t like and like so many things I don’t do?" 

I've written about my petulant attitude before. I really think society does more harm than good to children by not letting them mess up enough. Part of what I hate doing as an adult has to do with the fact that somehow I inherently think I shouldn't have to do these things simply because I don't want to. That may be an oversimplification, but I can't say it better than that. I don't think someone else should do these things, I just think they shouldn't exist. Like taxes, beginning of the school year paperwork and mail-in rebates.

There is some real clarity in thinking about not doing something, and coming to terms with the consequences of not doing that thing. Conversely, there are things that I  want to do but I realize some people might question the relevancy or meaning of that thing. And they might have a valid point. But I may still want that thing whatever it is.
Being an adult means dealing with consequences of the choices you make. All of them, good and bad, intentional and unintentional. And I'm saying I want to own all the things. Can you copyright decisions?

Anyway, I'm choosing to participate in life again and make things happen instead of waiting or letting them happen to me. And if I get burned because of it, so be it. It's my party and I can do what I want.

Life has a way of overwhelming you when you're not really paying attention. Or if you're paying attention. Life doesn't care. It's happening anyway. You can join in or take a pass.The beauty of it all is that's your choice. Even when you do nothing. Own your inaction as well as your decisions. They belongs to no one else.

Source: Marc and Angel Hack Life

What I'm psycho-listening to these days.

So yeah. I like this song by Miley. In fact, I like most of the songs on her new album. So what? I may be the only one person who thought her performance on the VMAs was simply hilarious. I was entertained. That girl was twerkn' the hell outta those lil' chicken cutlets. I mean, how else do follow up Madonna kissing Britney & Xtina or Diana Ross' Fondlegate of Lil' Kim? You twerk. You make people learn what that is whether they want to or not.

And since I never miss a season of SNL (someday I want to be in the audience and hopefully been seen as part of an audience sketch), I watched this past week's show where Ms. Cyrus was the musical guest and the host. Doing both jobs is really really hard, so I definitely appreciate when an artist can pull that off. Bruno Mars did a great job last year as host/musical guest. So did Justin Timberlake. Considering Miley's epic Disney career, I knew she would do well; but since this is virtually a brand new cast, I was doubtful it would all come together. Alas my doubts were for naught. It wasn't outstanding, but again, it doesn't take a whole lot to entertain me. 

All this to say, j'aime la chanson intitulée Wrecking Ball. The lyrics address my last relationship. I was absolutely the wrecking ball in that one. And that was new for me. I suppose I took pride in always being the rational one in relationships. But it was different with my spec; not better though.  I have no delusions it was somehow better or more passionate. Honestly, it was a “hot mess” situation. 

It’s been almost two years since he died. In that time I've done a lot of mourning, a lot of crying, a lot of feeling sorry for myself. Mostly I spent a lot of time being scared and being scarred. I have learned quite a bit about myself though, and now I have a much better outlook about myself and life in general. Listening to this song doesn't make me sad, it shows me how far I've come and how much I've learned about myself. I've been afraid for a long time to be passionate and enthusiastic about anything; I’m not anymore. I've cleaned away a lot of the debris that crumbled around me. Instead of feeling razed and crushed I feel empowered and resilient. I know better why I wrecked and I now know how to better deal with my own emotions. 

E ne veux pas avoir peur d'aimer à nouveau et je ne veux pas avoir peur de l'amour.

For me, Wrecking Ball is the denouement of the mixtape (Gawd I miss cassettes) on that relationship. I'm good.

I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me.

Everyday in July: Day 4 - If you could be any punctuation mark, whatwould you be?

Normally questions like this piss off my inner cranky old man. But in keeping with today's blog theme: Favorite quote (from a person, from a book, etc) and why you love it.

Is your life on a brief pause like a comma, or are you living vicariously through other people, like quotations? My favorite quote comes from a novel about my latest fascination. Essentially it's a love story about a zombie who falls in love with a human. He tries to remember what his life was like before he died, and in the process he becomes less zombie-like and begins to regain some of his humanity.

"I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses."

I love this quote because it exemplifies where I am in life. Actually, I'm at least head above water. Working on some exclamation points.

Everyday in July: Day 3 - Things that make me uncomfortable.

I've been trying to write this post for three days now. I wanted to write more than just a laundry list of annoyances. I read through other people's posts on the same prompt, hoping to find inspiration. Instead I found that alot of people are creeped out about things that don't bother me at all. Like "all things bathroom related", "profanity" and "being late". Clearly not my issues, although I'm happy to say I have greatly improved in the category of tardiness. In fact, I could list each one of those items as Things I'm completely comfortable with.

I noticed there were alot of items having to do with social anxiety. Crowds, hand hygiene, public speaking were mentioned quite often. I found one other person who hates making phones like I do. She also happens to be the originator of this blog meme. Confrontation was also frequently listed. As far as public speaking goes, I don't have a problem with it. In fact, sometimes I prefer speaking with strangers than speaking in a setting with people I already know. And as far as confrontation goes,  I've learned you can do more damage to relationships by not talking about something important. I'm ok with confrontation.

I've taken huge strides in an effort to step outside my comfort zone and I like to think I've been successful at it. I won't say nothing makes me uncomfortable, but really not much does. Those things I am uncomfortable with are things I'm very comfortable with being uncomfortable with them.

Crowds.

The thought of being sandwiched among thousands of people really creeps me out. I get antsy and nervous when I have to be in large capacity situations. I don't remember this ever bothering me before and I'm not sure why it does now, but I know I don't like it and I'm ok with it.

Assholes. And Ass-isms.

I'm real intolerant of people who don't like people like me. I'm also intolerant of any belief system (real, imagined or both) that devalues gender, ethnicity, sexuality, music & dance or tattoos. Ain't nobody got time for chopping people up in little categories and judging them. 

Everyday in July: Day 2 - How to be good in a crisis.

1. Identify the most important and the most immediate issue. What is most at stake? Is the crisis about safety? Yours or someone else? Is it a health concern? What's needed first?  If you can answer this problem accurately, you've already solved most of it.

2. See the crisis from start to finish. Explore possible outcomes and decide on the optimal solution.

3. Remember this is not about you. Think about what needs to happen that brings about the best result and focus on that. Don't think about how much you're doing compared to someone else. Fairness is always irrelevant in a crisis.

4. Eliminate the nonessential, but remember to care for yourself. If you're problem solver, you have to stay in the game. And you will surely be on the sidelines if you don't take care of yourself. Forget about doing your nails, ignore the DVR, you don't have time for social engagements. But you do have to sleep, you do have to rest and you do have to move your body. You have a crisis to handle, you don't have any leisure time. At least not now.

5. When the crisis is over, it's still not going to be about you. No one will care how much research you did, how many phone calls you made or how many nights you stayed up solving the problem. They'll just be glad it's over and will want to forget everything that has happened. Don't be surprised if you don't get the regard you think you should. Remember the point was to solve the crisis, not for you to be patted on the back.

6. Decide on a reward for yourself before the crisis is over. Use that as a motivator and a comfort for when the drama goes away. Because when the drama goes away, you're going to feel lonely. You're going to wonder what you're supposed to do when there is nothing left to do. Find a healthy activity to reengage yourself back to whatever your normal is.

7. Make plans for the next crisis. Shoes will fall. Hammers will drop. If the worst hasn't happen yet, get ready for it. Make your phone trees, set your plan Bs, get as many people as you can your side. Update your contacts, your emergency contacts, plan your will AND your funeral, and encourage your loved ones to do the same.

Everyday in July Challenge: Day 1 - The story of my life in 250 words or less.

Hopping around Blogher, I stumbled upon another great writing challenge. Originally posted here, My Purple Dreams altered it for the month of July. I don't know what I like so much about these challenges. Or why I rarely finish them. But I like this one alot, and I hope to complete each day. Off we go.


I am an only child, as was my father. My mother has two sisters, and each of them had two kids. I'm number four out of the five cousins. During family holidays, my cousins and I would put on a show for everyone. We thought of ourselves as an up and coming Sylvers or Jacksons. We would make up dances to the latest songs. Two of us played piano and one played the trumpet. We would charge admission, which was never more than a quarter. The eldest cousin was always in charge of the money and to this day none of us have ever been paid.

I went to catholic school just about my whole life. I liked having to wear a uniform because that meant I didn't have to take time and figure out a new outfit for each day. To this day whenever I wear colorful socks I feel like I'm breaking a rule!

I was also a girl scout. I was a Brownie for one year, advanced to a Junior, and I would have been a Cadet but our troop leader moved away. I still have my sash with all my badges.

Back at it.

Even I'm surprised I've been away this long this time. So much has happened since last December. Some good, some bad, mostly just life happening. Details later.

To help get me back in the swing of writing, I'm taking some inspiration from July Blogher Prompts. Today's prompt has to do with connecting with friends. My first call was to a new buddy I met while on GOBA. In fact, she was the very first person I met there. While in route on the first day, she rode up beside me and made a comment about the weather. It was raining lightly, and it was quite refreshing. She asked how many GOBAs I'd been on. When I said none, she offered to introduce me around once we got to camp. We chatted for a bit, then she said she had to go, as she was a volunteer and needed to be at the information booth at camp. When she said that, I remembered I'd first seen her at check-in. She has long, wild & curly grey hair and wore bright fuschia lipstick. I thought she isn't your everyday grandmother. Turns out I was right.

When I finally arrived at camp, I quickly put up my tent and made my bed. I found the shower truck and took the best shower of my life. When I returned to my tent, I laid down for a quick nap. I woke up just in time to go meet Donna at the information tent. For a minute I hesitated; I thought perhaps it would be uncomfortable and awkward meeting new people. But then I realized what I was doing and I went anyway. I decided if it was terrible I could just leave, but I knew it wouldn't be. Donna was already there with a few others, but before I could say anything, she greeted me and quickly began telling everyone I was on my first GOBA. Everyone she introduced me to had done at least eight; two people had done 25 and 24 years respectively. Donna has 12 GOBAs completed, and I don't think she's planning on stopping anytime soon. She tells me there's another black woman she wants to introduce me to; someone else I'd chatted with while en route that day. We hadn't introduced ourselves; just chitchatted for a distance and then parted company as we each rode our own pace. It always surprises and delights me when white people are able to talk about race without acting like it's a hugely weird thing. Donna knew I was on my own and she's known Debby for years, so it made sense for her to say it that way. Debby rides a Nazca recumbent--"one sexy" bike" as she describes it.

Throughout GOBA week, I met some really interesting people; young & old, from all over the country. Every evening a group of folks would meet at the information tent and decide where to eat and what to do for the evening. There was always something to do in GOBAville. I hope to return next year.

Fuck you Dementia.

*My apologies if this post sounds bleak. I don't mean for it to. I'm actually in good spirits considering. It helps just to be able to write about my dad and dying without hearing a bunch of useless though well-meaning platitudes. There are no words to console me. There just aren't. And I have to learn be ok with that.

via

I've heard so many people say, "when I get old, I don't want to be hooked up to machines. Just let me die." But rare is the case where an elderly person is wholly sustained via machines. What is more likely to happen is death in a more odious manner, whereby the body dies, cell by cell. There's no machine keeping you alive, rather some parts of your body dies and other parts don't. At least not right away, not for years. Such is my view of dementia, as my maternal grandfather died from it and my paternal grandmother likely did too. No one knows exactly what she died from, just that she was senile and in a mental facility and died at age 55.

He's stage six with vascular dementia. It's not pretty. Think of descending a ladder. Lowering a foot is like losing a cognitive ability, but once the foot is on a rung, everything is stable. For a while. Then something happens like a mini-stroke, or a fall or a hiccup or the next day, and it's down another rung. My dad's in a decline right now. He sees things that aren't there, he thinks things that aren't real. But in between there are flashes of normality. Don't blink because they are real easy to miss.

Yesterday we were watching the Cleveland Browns play football. Sometimes he can follow the game, and other times, he just stares at the tv. Most of the time, he nods off, and lately he's taken to leaning so far out of his wheelchair he almost falls out. Leaning back is uncomfortable he says. In mid-doze, he proclaims if the Browns had any kind of backfield, they wouldn't lose so much.

He's always so excited to see me. He was like that most of the time before dementia. Most of the time he wasn't drinking that is. When he was drinking, he hated everyone and everything. He wasn't very nice. Now he's so happy I took time to visit him, and maybe he could go with me when I leave unless they scheduled him to do more work, which they usually do. When is my mother coming for a visit he wants to know. I'd rather he was still drinking.

My dad doesn't sleep at night. At all. Dementia doesn't give a fuck about a bedtime. Dementia doesn't give a fuck about anything. Dementia roots out all control you ever thought you had about your bladder, your appetite, your ability to recognize a sock as a sock and not call it a door. Dementia kidnaps your dignity and hangs it upside down off the balcony. It doesn't want anything in return for it, because you're never getting it back. Dementia makes you shit yourself, but it doesn't stop there. It will make you unable to recognize shit for what it is; you think it's paint and wonder about that weird odor while strangers try to clean you up and you think they're the ones who threw paint on you so you fight them but you're so weak and frail you just end up making yourself tired and pissed off.

Dementia is a slow, tedious evil bitch. Dementia strips away your independence and does it without a machine. My dad could live for years still in this condition. I really hope he doesn't.

50 Questions, #2: Never trying, definitely worse.

Question 2 of 50 questions that will free your mind is, "Which is worse, failing or never trying?" I think the answer is never trying. I think about how much time I've spent daydreaming and fantasizing about how I wish things were and what I would do if I had this or that. What did that get me? A big fat pile of nothing.

But when I fail at stuff, I can say I actually did something. Of course it might bring up all kinds of other issues, but what I'm left with is the fact I tried. Since I've reactivated this blog, I definitely feel better about it. Having it sit dormant was really irking me. It felt like unfinished business.

Never trying is definitely the worst. As I'm drafting this post, I'm thinking about all the things I've tried and failed at. Most of them are funny. A few are heartbreaking, but also comforting in a way. I recognize those failings as mine and mine alone. The things I want to do that I've never tried, which isn't very many, just feel like dead weight. I got nothing for them. And that's a worse memory...to recall absolutely nothing.

Samuel Beckett

Recap My Life 2012

This is a list of my favorite/interesting/intriguing things I came across in 2012. I did this before in 2009.  And again in 2010. Apparently I found nothing interesting or intriguing in 2011.

Books:
1. Moral Combat: Black Atheists, Gender Politics and The Values Wars by Sikivu Hutchinson. I don't subscribe to identity politics any more, but that doesn't mean the politics of identity aren't real. This book is so dense I read and re-read and learn something new each and every time. I would love to take a class or hear a lecture from her.
2. Letters to a Young Contrarian by Christopher Hitchens. 
3. Politics of Respectability by Rae Lewis-Thornton. She can't spell for shit, but that doesn't minimize her truth. She tells the truth.

Music:
1. Blunderbuss by Jack White. A most complete CD from beginning to end. 
2. Molotov Jukebox. I'm a huge Natalie Tena fan. Trying is still my favorite. I would rock that duck hat.

Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure:
1. Basketball Wives: LA. TeamDraya!
2. Love and Hip Hop: ATL

Colors:
1. Grey
2. Off-white
3. Cobalt blue

Drink:
1. Chardonnay...you still my sexy bitch.

Movies:
I don't often go to the movie theatre, but when I do, I bring my own candy. 
1. Finding Nemo in 3D
2. Snow On Tha Bluff...not for the faint of heart. Very compelling.

TV Shows:
Need I say...The Walking Muthafuckin' Dead! RIP T-Dog! TeamMichonne FTW!

Wish List:
I got the iPad and the iPhone this year. Now all I need the iWeightloss, iMoney and the iMan and I'm set.

Triumphs:
1. Gained custody of my father. He's now in a safe place with professional workers who can help him. People generally look down on nursing homes and on those of us whose parents are in nursing homes, but I know my father is being cared for by professionals who have come to know and understand his needs. 

2. My son moved out. This is a triumph because I was completely against it at first. I thought it was unfair and that my ex was taking away my son. I realized that I was the one being unfair to my son and to my ex. We talked through this process a great deal, involving my ex's gf as well. I will always be my son's mother; that was never in question. I realized what I really want is for my son to thrive and I had no reason to think it could only happen in my house. 

3. I quit Effexor.Ironically, I quit before all the above happened. Which makes me even more awesome than I realized!

Losses:
1. My spec. I'll never know why you did what you did. And I'll never have another friend like you. You were truly one of a kind and I miss you everyday. I'm still mad at you though. Asshole.

2. Christopher Hitchens. Although he died in 2011, the one-year anniversary of his death approaches as I write this. I am in awe of all that he did during his lifetime. I will continue to be a student and a fan of his writings. 

3. Stephen Covey. In another career, I was a certified facilitator of 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I remember listening to one of Mr. Covey's videos where he interviews a soccer player discussing how an opponent intentionally injured him. I don't remember his exactly words, but it was to the effect of, "people are motivated to do what's in their own best interest at the time of action." My takeaway from that is that when someone acts out against you, it really doesn't matter if it was personal or not. It's what that individual felt compelled to do; rightly or wrongly. In another words, it just is. I think about that when someone does something that I can't understand or agree with. I realize I don't need to worry about their motivation. They did what they felt they had do. Knowing that, at least for me, helps me make sense of the world. It helps me to let go.

Goals:
See the 45 by 45 page. And stay tuned for the 30 Things in 30 Days.

Crafts:
I am one bad-ass knitter!

Autumn Lace Afghan

#1 of 50 Questions: How old would I be if I didn't know how old I was?

If I didn’t know how old I was, I would say I was in my mid 30s. I don’t feel old enough or maybe a better expression is mature enough to say I’m 44. I think I’m still too silly to be in my 40s. I definitely know I’m an adult and not a teen; nor would I want to be that young ever again. It was miserable and I wouldn't trade places ever. Unfortunately, my body is saying it’s in it’s late 40s. I feel sore in places for no reason. Bending over can sometimes be a dangerous experience for lots of different reasons; are my panties showing? Why can’t I breathe? Ouch, my brain! WTF?

Sometimes I think with all my grey hair I’m older than 44. For about 5 minutes every month, I consider dying my hair. Then I remember I’m cosmetically lazy and would never be able to commit to maintaining a dye job. I pretend the grey is really an alternative radical color like blue or green and I’m really rocking out a shocking white streaks that few chicks can pull off.
I’m content with that delusion.

I spent my 30s lost in failing relationships, and my early 40s in recovery. Now is time to write a new chapter with a focus on myself and my true North. It is my hope to stay vital and vibrant for as long as I can.

Question source: 50 Questions that will free your mind

New Series: 50 Questions that will free your mind

Marc and Angel Hacklife is an inspiring and unique blog. First of all, they write lists! Not just surface junk; but stuff that really causes my mind to stretch. I could spend an entire evening contemplating my answers to their questions. I imagine attending a really chill and mellow dinner party with everyone sitting on over-sized cushions after a great meal discussing the their 5 Simple Truths or something like that. Of course these would have to be interesting people. Really really interesting people. 

I'm going to do this as a series of 50 posts each over the next couple of weeks. I think answering these questions will help my writing and help my focus. Although I'm typing this at work right now, so I guess it's not really helping with focusing on work. Yep, there's that.

I'm going to keep a running link list here as the series home post.

1. How old would I be if I didn’t know how old I was?
2. Which is worse, failing or never trying?
3. If life is so short, why do I do so many things I don’t like and like so many things I don’t do?
4. When it’s all said and done, will I have said more than I've done?
5. What is the one thing I'd most like to change about the world?
6. If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make me rich?
7. Am I doing what I believe in, or am I settling for what I am doing?
8. If the average human life span was 40 years, how would I live my life differently?
9. To what degree have I actually controlled the course your life has taken?
10. Am I more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things?
11. I'm having lunch with three people I respect and admire.  They all start criticizing a close friend of mine, not knowing she is my friend.  The criticism is distasteful and unjustified.  What do I do?
12. If I could offer a newborn child only one piece of advice, what would it be?
13. Would I break the law to save a loved one?
14. Have I ever seen insanity where I later saw creativity?
15. What’s something I know I do differently than most people?
16. How come the things that make me happy don’t make everyone happy?
17. What one thing have I not done that I really want to do?  What’s holding me back?
18. Am I holding onto something I need to let go of?
19. If I had to move to a state or country besides the one I currently live in, where would I move and why?
20. Do I push the elevator button more than once?  Do I really believe it makes the elevator faster?
21. Would I rather be a worried genius or a joyful simpleton?
22. Why am I, me?
23. Have I been the kind of friend I want as a friend?
24. Which is worse, when a good friend moves away, or losing touch with a good friend who lives right near me?
25. What am I most grateful for?
26. Would I rather lose all of my old memories, or never be able to make new ones?
27. Is is possible to know the truth without challenging it first?
28. Has my greatest fear ever come true?
29. Do I remember that time 5 years ago when I were extremely upset?  Does it really matter now?
30. What is ny happiest childhood memory?  What makes it so special?
31. At what time in my recent past have Ifelt most passionate and alive?
32. If not now, then when?
33. If I haven’t achieved it yet, what do I have to lose?
34. Have I ever been with someone, said nothing, and walked away feeling like I just had the best conversation ever?
35. Why do religions that support love cause so many wars?
36. Is it possible to know, without a doubt, what is good and what is evil?
37. If I just won a million dollars, would I quit your job?
38. Would I rather have less work to do, or more work I actually enjoy doing?
39. Do I feel like I've lived this day a hundred times before?
40. When was the last time I marched into the dark with only the soft glow of an idea I strongly believed in?
41. If I knew that everyone I know was going to die tomorrow, who would I visit today?
42. Would you be willing to reduce your life expectancy by 10 years to become extremely attractive or famous?
43. What is the difference between being alive and truly living?
44. When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards, and just go ahead and do what I know is right?
45. If I learn from my mistakes, why am I always so afraid to make a mistake?
46. What would I do differently if I knew nobody would judge me?
47. When was the last time I noticed the sound of my own breathing?
48. What do I love?  Have any of my recent actions openly expressed this love?
49. In 5 years from now, will I remember what I did yesterday?  What about the day before that?  Or the day before that?
50. Decisions are being made right now.  The question is:  Am I  making them for myself, or am I  letting others make them for me?

What's your favorite Christmas Song?

I'm doing an Instagram December Photo Challenge. You take a photo of whatever is on the list for that day. Day 3 was Favorite Christmas Song. I posted a screen shot of Prince's Another Lonely Christmas. It's a great song and it's a favorite, but not the favorite. I love all kinds of Christmas music, yes, even religious songs. No matter what I know to be true for me now, good memories are good memories and they're not to be discounted just because I've evolved in my beliefs.

One thing I like about Christmas songs is there are so many different versions of so many great songs. And sometimes it isn't the song itself that's so great, but the emotion and sentiment attached to the song. So watching the Roots, Jimmy Fallon, Mariah Carey and 4 cute kids sing All I Want For Christmas, made me all giggly and happy. Aww, snap...I feel a list coming on! LIST TIME! 

• I love the setting; a living room of a working class household with cheap decorations literally everywhere
• I love how they're all cramped together but totally fine with it
• I love the look of anticipation of the "xylophone stylist" at the beginning of the video
• I love Quest playing his hairbrush
• I love the ugly sweaters 
• I fucking love Mariah's shoes
• I love big girl's hat
• I love all the kids' expressions
• I love Fallon "turning off" the camera/tv at the end
• I LOVE ALL THE THINGS!!