And Big Plans

     Photo Credit: Christina Sees

     It's currently 9 PM PST as I write this. Therefore, I still have a few more hours left of 2011. Let the contemplation and self reflection continue. This year, I've shared more with you than I ever have in previous years. You've been with me through all the ups and downs of faux romance, awkward scenarios and awakened dreams while following my blog. Thank you for toughing it out with me.

     In these last few hours of 2011, like many of us, I had to face the Hallway of Disappointment: No, I didn't write to you everyday, as I had set out to do in the beginning of this year. No, I didn't meet and marry the man of my dreams. And no, I haven't finished my feature length script yet.

     Doing a year review/recap can be a bit sobering (à la, depressing), but not if you factor in the grace and mercy that has accompanied you along the way.

     Sure, I didn't write to you every day, but I did write to you every month and I was painfully honest.  True, I didn't meet my husband boo yet. But I have met some amazing and kind men this year, that will definitely give him a run for his money (And yes, I currently have a new crush--Ha). And although my feature length script isn't finished yet, it is still in progress. In fact, I've registered my outline with the WGA to keep me motivated and focused.

     As a recovering perfectionist, it's still hard to come to terms with my failures, whether they be big or small, but in 2011 I've made huge strides in learning to forgive myself of my many shortcomings and to allow for growth in those sensitive areas.

     But mostly, the Hallway of Disappointment is just that, a hallway. It's not a wall. In fact, it's not even a picket fence to keep you trapped. It's a hallway, leading you from one place of seeming defeat to a place of clear and ready victory.

     The hallway is necessary. It keeps us humble. It keeps us honest. It makes us appreciate the riches that we will soon encounter.

     I look forward to stepping out of the Hallway of 2011 into the steady heartbeat of a ready and fulfilling 2012 with you.

     Amen.

Wisdom's Knocking:

Let go, Let go, Let go...and Let God.

No Love For the Aunties. And I'm a Liar.

     

     Why do I always do this to myself. Every Christmas. But honestly, this year, I was much better. I started 5 days before Christmas this year instead of 2 days before to tackle the masses (A.K.A. "The Battlefield) Christmas shopping.

     I cannot tell you how many people I've elbowed in the last few days. Ok. That might be a slight exaggeration...Or it might not be.

     And though the Crazies are acting like straight up zombies--wait. Is there a difference between Crazies and Zombies? As I was saying, even though it's been a mad house, I've been on fire with my shopping skills--Picking the right check-out lanes (Not the lane where the cash register breakdowns, or someone forgot to grab the item with an actual price tag on it, etc, etc.), getting crazy discounts, and finding heartfelt greeting cards for my family members. But one family member almost got left out.

     I dare you to go to your local store and find a Christmas card for your Aunt. I mean, am I the only one out there that has an Aunt? Didn't think so. But I may be 1 of 5 people that actually sends their Aunt a Christmas card.

     I saw spaces for the "Uncles" everywhere. But when I looked for "Aunts"--Yeah, nowhere to be found. It took me 3 stores to find a card addressed specifically for an Auntie. I see how it is Hallmark. No love for the Aunties on Christmas? Aunties need love too.

     And secondly, I have a confession to make. I'm a liar.

     I visited one of my favorite stores during my Christmas shopping adventure. The store where people wear house shoes and pajamas and can eat fast food while possibly getting their nails done and cashing a check. Nonetheless, as ghetto as this place is, I still love it.

     So I was on the hunt for one of my last Christmas gifts. I had surgeon like concentration. And then--"Wait, wait--" says this 18 (mayyybe 19) year old boy to his Tupac looking friend.

     I could feel it coming.

     "Ehh. You gotta boyfrin" says the young light skinned black teenager directly to me. The Tupac look alike stands off to the side to give his boy some space. Uh-oh. This is serious.

     I was already facing him but I was unable to make true eye contact with him. Not because I was shy or fully embarrassed (Just partially), but because this fool was so high, he could barely keep his eyes open.

     Before I could answer him--"Whutch yo name?" He asks.

     And with precision diarrehea of the mouth, I blurted out, "Puh-trees" as ghetto as I could. In my mind, I was thinking, Why did you just say it like that dummy and WHY did you give him your real name--Agh!!

     "So you gotta boyfrin?" he persists.

     And here it comes.

      I deadlocked on his half faded eyes with an array of shoppers walking all around us and with full confidence and with no hesitation, I said:

     "Yes. Yes I do."

Wisdom's Knocking:

The truth is not always convenient.