My Scope of Things

Mood: 50% disheartend and 50% delighted

Considering no one reads this blog anyway it's no biggie that it's been a few days since I last wrote. To say life is transitory is about right. Someone must have prayed hard for me because in this shitty economic era I was blessed to find a new job rather quickly. Oh my... the relief. Although this offer was not my top choice of open positions I have interviewed for (thus far) it is indeed a step up the ladder. Should the opportunity I crave be offered, I will mos def accept and gracefully back out of the current offer.

The letdown in my world is the ending of what I thought to be a solid friendship. I have been nothing but kind to this person, always offering to help and trying to bite my tongue when my advice was not sought. I have given this person rides, bought them lunch, loaned them bus fare, taken on their workload and consoled during times of tears. I have opened my heart, home and life to this individual.

Little did I know this person already assumed I was not worthy simply due to my astrological sign. I was lumped in with the roster of evil-doers in their experience who also happen to be Aries and accused of being self-centered. I'd take a guess this person also thinks I am a spoiled daddy's girl, although this was not said outright. Anyone who truly knows me will tell you I am a generous person, to a fault. Sometimes I give so much of myself there's nothing left for myself. I suppose we all have our sensitive subjects and childhood woes we carry into adult life. I think the maturity level and differences in opinion have proved to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

Switching gears: my bff from Los Angeles was here during an extremely trying time in which a dear person in my life was struggling with health concerns. EJ, you are always in the right place at the right time with me! Now THAT is a friendship worth fighting for (incidentally, I have done so, many moons ago). If it wasn't for him being around and distracting the crumb snatchers from worrying about their Grandma's health, the last week would have been so much harder. God truly does bring people into our lives for a reason.

Onward to a new beginning. I shall embrace what is good and disregard what causes hurt. There is zero chance here of blessings being taken for granted. I am one lucky woman and appreciate all I have. Now I pray for those close to me to find their happy place (emotionally, financially, and of good health) and for me, a life of pandemonium to morph into a life of serendipitous occasions.

Fastidious forethought

A week full of ups and downs can leave a person feeling numb. I only wish I could say I was comfortably numb instead of feeling like I am deep in the bowels of my own existence. With so many health concerns in my immediate family the frustration on the job front pales in comparison. I have put in my two week notice because the company is built on quicksand. Each and every day the rules are changed and reaffirm my belief that those so-called bosses are flying by the seat of their pants.

My life is higgledy-piggledy to say the least but I have to remain optimistic that a forward career move is in my very near future. I have many resumes floating around in cyber space, each sent with a "vaya con dios" and a prayer for the right thing to find its way into my world. I know I am not the only one who has felt like if they get one little break in the career they can make such a difference, we only need one person to believe in us and give us the chance to show how much we want to do to improve the lives of others. At least for those who seek to make a difference via social services as I do.

As I climb off my soapbox I ask anyone who reads this to send a little message to the big man upstairs and remind him that I need a little bit of extra love right now to get the lives of my children and myself back on the right path. I return the blessing back to you all too.

Beautiful Soles

Today was a sad day, period. I can say I had the proverbial rug pulled out from underneath me at 7 am. I woke up with a strange feeling, but brushed it off as raging hormones. I did not give my intuition the credit it deserves. Once at work I saw the cube next to me cleaned out, no sign that my fellow cube monkey had ever been there. All her fashion cutouts, photos and remnants were removed like toenail polish when getting a pedi. To say I was shocked would be the biggest understatement of the year.

Without delving into details, I will say that the day went by about as quick and painless as a root canal. In fact, I rather would have endured ten root canals, than to go through the despondency again. I know my friend is buoyant and will bounce back with vigor. She is smart, hardworking, dedicated, genuine and beautiful inside and out. All these great qualities and she still got shafted for the pettiest of reasons. Sometimes standing up for your beliefs has a heavy cost.

Although I know we will remain close friends, the daily commentary, inside jokes and fashionista advice will be missed. Just today I was not able to get your opinion of the ensemble I wore, a gift from my dear old mother. Was it a cute summer outfit or did it resemble a southwestern table cloth?

Pina, I keep you in my prayers to find a better opportunity quickly and without stress. When you do, shoot me an application because I don't know how much longer I will survive in our insane asylum with the lunatics running it. Oh- and I got my cruiser today, complete with basket! So we can still do our beach cruise!!!

Surviving the Urban Jungle

The week has been chok full of ups and downs, family concerns, and financial strains. But being Sheena, Queen of the urban jungle, I sliced though the vines of drama and have made it to Thursday. One day to go and then a decent reprieve.

I am at a carrefour right now. I am looking for a better career opportunity, coming to terms with remaining single, and repudiating the excess weight hanging onto me like I am the Duchess of Donuts. My goal is to chisel away at least 10 pounds before August 1. Totally feasible if I stick to the plan. It's extremely frustrating to go through the rhetoric of diet, exercise, vitamins and self-cheerleading only to lose five pounds and then plateau. Perhaps putting all my business out in the open I will have a greater sense of responsibility and not want to admit defeat yet again. (Not that I have any followers lol)

As for a career change, well, 'tis the season of recession and I will just be happy that I still have any job at all. That being said, any opportunity that comes my way will not be overlooked. On the subject of the opposite sex... well.... perhaps I should not open that Pandora's Box. Basically I am just sick and tired of being let down time after time. I hold a miniscule piece of hope that there is a gentleman out there who knows how to treat a lady and can handle Miss Cali, flaws and all.

A Tale of Club Eviction

In the same spirit of my Twitter buddy, Single Steve, I thought I’d share my weekend’s story of getting kicked out of a club in PB. Although his story was bar far much more comical, my club eviction was easily as ludicrous and undeserving, at least from my scope of things.

I’ll start with Saturday’s schedule. Mind you, I was rudely brought back into the land of the living at 7 am by a series of text messages from a very bug-a-boo 12 year old reminding me of her taxicab needs for the day. Aye Carajo! Eventually I forged my way down the stairs to self-medicate with a dose of Expresso and milk. Thus began the day’s melee of grocery shopping, merrymaking cupcake baking, mom’s taxi service and dog bathing. The unglamorous life of motherhood.

By 2 pm I was hot, irritated and ready to switch my beverage of choice to Skyy and Red Bull. By 4 pm I was headed to the bay, crème cigar in hand and drink in the other. Fast forward a few hours, a queen sized portion of pasta and bbq pork and I was back at the bff’s crib changing for the next adventure at PB Bar and Grill. Mind you, I detest this club, but being unfaltering in the friend department, I would not have missed my bia’s birthday fiesta.

One Long Island later I was texting my girls because somehow we got separated on the dance floor. Some asshole with a name badge, whistle and flashlight apparently missed the memo that his job description was merely club security, not one protecting the Obama’s. Well this dude on an ego trip decided I was a probable suspect of domicile destruction. He informed me I had to leave and was not welcome to return. Fine by me, next time I’ll have a viable excuse to skip the merriment and stay at my local dive where I can chill in my pink fuzzy slippers if I so choose.

So, Single Steve, my story is not quite as humorous as yours and did not include pseudo pee on the wall (ya’ll would have to read it, it was really not a bad as it sounds, rather slapstick-meets-reality.) You can find his story, written for the Daily Aztec at http://tinyurl.com/mc68jf

Deacon James C. Crawford, Sr.

Sunrise June 23, 1926 - Sunset June 6, 2009

Rather than drone on about mundane weekend events, today I decided to dedicate my words to Deacon James Clayborne Crawford, Sr., also known as Papa. The following is copied from his obituary:

James C. Crawford was the sixth of six siblings born to Clayborne and Ella Crawford on June 23, 1926 in Memphis, Tennessee. He graduated from Booker T. Washington High School where he met and married his high school sweetheart, Ernestine. They moved to Los Angeles and remained there for over 60 years. The union of "Papa" and "Ma'Dear" produced six children: Omega, James Jr, Anita, Mary, Edward and Susan.

Papa worked hard in the sheet metal industry, retiring after 2o years only to begin a second career at Firestone, where he labored another 20 years and retired again. Following his second retirement, he accepted Jesus Christ into his life through baptism and later served as Deacon to the very same hpuse of God, Pilgrim Congregational Church. Eventually he was elevated to Honorary Deacon. Papa was honored as Deacon of the Year, Father of the Year and most recently was a joint recipient in a dedication ceremony at Pilgrim declaring the fellowship hall "The James and Ernestine Crawford Fellowship Lounge"

He was at church faithfully, attending his post every Sunday until the Sunday prior to his passing. He served on the Deacon Board for Greater Los Angeles, supported the "Promise Keepers" and was very active in bible study and prayer vigil, despite his declining health. Papa fought a gallant battle againt his illness. His quick wit and demeanor will be missed by all who knew him. Before being called to eternal rest, we affectionately new him as "Papa, Jim Bowie, Neckbone, Jimmaye, JC from Tennessee, front porch sitter, Papacita and Papastoppa."

Papa is preceeded in death by his loving and devoted wife of 58 years, Ernestine "Ma'Dear", one brother, four sisters and one son, Edward. He leaves to cherish fond memories five children and their spouses, Omega, James Jr and Melba, Anita and Roderick, Mary and Lamont, Susan and Alton, daughter in law Glynn Crawford, two adopted children: Annie Busky and Carlton Hendrick, 2o grand children, 24 great-grand children, and one great-great-grandchild.

For all that knew Papa and were touched by his presence, the following "shout outs" were common Papa quotes that will surely be missed. For those who never had the blessing of knowing this patriarch, the one liners may not seem very funny:

"Gow Slow, Go 'head chicken, Nothin short about me but my income, Water'll rust iron, Gimme dem feet, Slow but Show, Cold today-hot tamale, JC from Tennessee, Don't watch me-watch the weather"

Papa, you want a drink? papa's response- Is it wet?

Papa, you gonna miss the green light! papa's response: that's ok, there'll be another one
Papa! Where's your teeth? papa's response "In the cup!"

Prose and Cons

The first part of the day was passed alongside my fellow cubettes with the typical dorm room doctrine. I find myself crossing my fingers, toes, eyes, and any other ligaments I can in hopes of the new job opportunity to be granted. As much as I love my girls, it’s not viable to take care of my responsibilities on meager kibbles.

The sad part of my days are watching my chums go through personal struggles. I so wish I had the power to absorb all the pain and afford them equanimity. This seems to be a common sentiment lately. Times like these reinforce my appreciation for being single. Sure, I have lonely moments but the serenity far outweighs the hara-kiri relationships can bring. Sometimes I wonder if I should be at the cathedral lighting candles or knocking these men so far back that their asses fly over the teakettle.

I titled today’s blog Prose and Cons because relationships are full of these, in a sense. Prose meaning words that cause substantial heartache; Cons because when those hurtful words are spoken, oftentimes they later want to be recanted, especially when the veracity of the situation is realized. Be careful what you wish for fellas because you just might get it. Those who do not legitimatly have the best interests of their loved ones in mind are nothing more than con artists, professional bullshitters and scoundrels.

Rather than running off in a tangent and have an all-out male bashing session, I will cut my thoughts short for the night. As women, we must remember that a person can only do to you what you allow them to do. We must take ownership of our own faults too.

Tomorrow evening I will be heading back to Los Angeles to bid my final farewells to Papa, who was genuinely one of the good guys. Perhaps it will be there, in the house of God, that I will light those aforementioned candles… one for Papa and one for all my girls to find inner peace.

Ho hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Tomorrow is Wednesday already where has the week gone? One hopeful thing so far was a last minute job interview after work yesterday. Please, let the Gods of higher earning potential hear my prayers! Today was a pretty good day all things considered. Work was low key and non stressful. The nice boss treated everyone to Hershey’s hot chocolate from 7-11 and although I passed on the cocoa fix it was a welcome sight to see everyone enjoying their liquid candy bar.

I also came to the decision today to write the jailbird brother back. This was no easy decision I assure you. Part of me wanted to go Judge Judy on his ass and ream him with all the hurt he has caused me and my children. The paradox was that I also wanted to gracefully have my say, get things off my chest, and make peace with it. I opted for a compromise of the two. My letter was concise, honest to a fault and from the heart. Enough said.

I got word that the funeral for Papa is Friday, so I will be headed back up to Los Angeles Thursday evening to pay my respects and say my final farewells to a man who touched my heart in so many ways. He will be missed and remembered with a smile and a mind full of joyful memories.

Not much else to say today, guess I am feeling a bit blue. It took a lot of effort today to keep the old choppers smiling when I felt sad but with the piece of good fortune I have at work (my awesome coworkers) I made it through.

Sunday night, sleepy, and sunburned.....

Saturday morning roused me from a restful sleep. After a few hundred swigs of the home brew I threw a few rags in my Louis bag and awaited the toots of my bff's horn for pick up. We both felt the need for a 24 hour day-cation. She has been itching to break in the new wheels and I needed to seriously disengage from reality (meaning a temporary reprieve from teenagers).

We put the top down, tossed the bags in the backseat and headed to the PCH to take in the serenity of the coastline. Between the concealed bottle of wine, the wind in my hair and the sun kissing my shoulders, I found the best form of self-medication. We sailed the scenic route to Los Angeles and ended up in the infamous Venice Beach and Santa Monica Pier. After a long stroll down the boardwalk and a few Kodak moments (see photo avove) we headed into Hollywierd to check out the latest and not-so-greatest. We treked around Sunset, Vine, Wilshire, Highland and a few more noncoms, people watching, drinking latte’s and smoking cream flavored cigars.

Later we switched gears and headed to EJ’s house. Earlier this week he suffered the loss of his beloved grandfather, Papa. I had an emotional week, but his was legitimately more disheartening and I was drawn to console him as best I could. The bff and I ended up staying at EJ’s that night, visiting with the family and catching up with the offspring.

This morning we lazed around the living room with no motivation… the thought of another hot latte finally stimulated us to get our arses in gear. Again, we put the top down, threw our bags in the back and headed to get our caffeine fix. Next stop, San Diego, home, and back to the veracity of real life.

I must admit, after this nifty trip I feel like I have released some of the pollution out of my life and decompressed the tension of recent months. So now here it sit, propped up in my cozy bed, dog at feet, cool breeze blowing the drapes and on my trusty laptop. My skin is hot to the touch from sunburn, my feet are a bit sore from all the walking but I have still not felt this relaxed in a long time. A huge thank you goes out to my bff Goldie for being the driver and great partner in crime.

And now…at long last... sleep…..

Putting life into perspective

After a few days of irritation at the workplace, courtesy of the boss almighty, I was relieved that this week is finally over. The last few sunrises have also brought a family issue to my attention. Something I thought I had let go years ago resurfaced like a stain on a rug. It pulls at my heart strings because the person it involves is my brother, once my closest friend. We have not communicated in four years, a result of his addiction and the havoc it has caused.

I found out that he had written me a few letters from prison that were surreptitiously concealed from me. I debated reading them for days and finally decided to open and skim his words. I say “skim” because this brother has embellished things and denied wrong doing his entire life and one can only believe about ¼ of what he says.

My conundrum was whether to write back or not. I gave it a few nights’ sleep and consulted a close friend for her thoughts. Her suggestion was to write back. She gave me some strong words, really putting the decision into perspective. The advice was, (if it were her) to opt for a functional, unencumbered relationship with her brother. She told me, and I quote here “life is too short-I don’t think admission is a pre-requisite for much.” She added that one person’s aversion to admission is viewed by someone else as a perpetual shortcoming. These words made me reassess the weight I put on specific things between us. How many people in our lives have hurt us once and we remove them from our daily life over small incidents. This in comparison to those who consistently hurt us and yet we keep them in our lives.

I have responded to his letters although I was extremely circumspect about sending it. I wondered if I was essentially opening my soul to further hurt or if I should stick my head back in the sand for another four years.This morning I got my answer. I got word that my oldest, dearest friend EJ’s grandfather passed away. We lovingly called him Papa. The words she had spoken to me just 24 hours ago about life being short echoed though my thoughts with the semblance a marching band symbol two feet from your ear.

Allow me to turn the clock back for a moment. Every now and then kindness springs up out of nowhere and from the least likely places. This happened to me the summer of1990 in South Central Los Angeles, 107th and Vernon; the Crawford family home. This entire family welcomed me with open arms, my skin color made no difference; they lovingly dubbed me as the most light-skinned person of the family. They are the effigy of what family should be. I have maintained my friendship with EJ for 17 years and we consider each other sister and brother, more so than my own blood siblings. I communicate with most of his cousins and relatives on a regular basis.

Out of respect for Papa Crawford I feel the need to say a few words. James Crawford, Sr. was a devout Christian his entire life and raised his six children as such. He was honest, humorous, faithful, generous, smart and dedicated. He was kindness personified. I learned lessons in life through him with his stories, his wisdom and his life experiences. These were lasting lessons about the value of hard work, goal setting, focus and self education. He once told me it was better to have a degree from God than from any university. He told me if I was right with Him, I could achieve anything. Papa married his high school sweetheart at 16 years of age and was a loyal and devoted husband and father for 60+ years. His wife, we called her Ma’Dear, passed years ago.

My prayers and heartfelt condolences go out to the entire Crawford brood. It’s time to reunite Papa with his beloved Ma’Dear, lovingly and safely in God’s hands. Rest in Peace Papa, we will all miss you.

MICROMANAGEMENT MISERY

Mood: somewhere between frustrated and blah

Today I feel lost in a very strange place, a state of cognitive dissonance. I must be overdrawn in my verbal bank account (causing such a blah mood) or maybe I'm just “over” the bullshit (for lack of better verbiage) in my “professional” world. Please note the quotation there, I am being extremely facetious.

The so-called boys of business are constantly sculpting and tearing apart company policy and procedure. Evidently the motto “If it aint broke, don’t fix it” does not apply to APS. In a perfect universe, employment prospects would be flourishing and I could exit, stage left. I feel like I am standing on the edge, poised to jump. It’s a paradox between gratitude for having a job and a slow fade to futility. My nerves are being gently strangled and I don’t know how long they will last before they snap and I’m committed to the loony bin. This being said, the United Nations isn’t exactly requesting my resume, so I better stick to being obliged to have a job.

Today we had one of our senselessness meetings, another felonious waste of time. Adding to the roster of unnecessary evils, the men of self-professed management have decided to penalize us peons for the most miniscule of infractions. Micromanagement at work, folks. The unsettling in the pit of my tummy did not go away, as this meeting of the mindless conjured up a comment which I shared with the room. Apparently my boss (albeit the nicer of the two) didn’t take kindly to my opinion and lectured me in private afterwards. What a spectacular day to have a yearly evaluation.

I didn’t expect much to come out of this assessment, but it went essentially well. I smiled politely, said as few vague comments and was blessed with a little boost to my kibbles and bits of compensation. The poetic justice to this evaluation was that it took so long; I actually got some overtime pay out of it. Go figure.

Well, time to go celebrate another birthday for the parental units. I will follow up Thursday for updated status. (A shout out there to my SAPS peeps)

Bonding, Boys and Bobcats… Ohhh My

Well it’s been a tornado of hustle and bustle since my Friday night couch spudding. Saturday brought my BFF and me to the car dealership where we drove off in a sexy new Sebring. The only bilious cruelty was the fact that it has been months since we have had rain in Southern California and the very day she buys a convertible, you guessed it, the clouds were trickling. This did not preclude us from checking out a new hotspot Saturday night.

As previously mentioned, the budding new love prospect has a second job as club security. I must admit our vestiges of glamour paired with head-of-line V.I.P. privileges made us the envy of the commoners who were standing in procession, trying to keep the drizzle from ruining hard-earned hair do’s. The rest of Saturday night is somewhat of a fuzzy memory but I distinctly remember boogying a lot because my dogs were barking when I got home and took those stilts off.

Sunday brought a family dinner up at my pop’s casa in the mountains. Although it is a mere 30 minutes away it feels like a whole different world. The feast was devoured and the Tums were brought out. The men retired to male bonding over the baseball ballgame and the ladies ventured down to the game room with the intention of using Wii Fit to work off dinner’s caloric intake. Once I was pooped out I went outside and watched Mr. Sun disappear behind the mountain. Amazingly, as my derrière was parked on a huge rock formation, a pint-sized bobcat wandered into my world and actually came up to me close enough to touch! Talk about a domesticated wild animal. Luckily, I had my cell phone handy and was able to snap a priceless photo. (See above.)

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday brought the incarnation of another week working for a megalomaniac boss, high on his own delusions of power, who stinks of audaciousness. The flip side to this coin was that upon my dreaded weigh-in at the gym, I am back under the 200 pound mark and on my way to getting my girth back to a tolerable dimension, one not occupying the greater half of the Northern hemisphere. To top this off, I had a date with the aforementioned boo. He made a simple dinner and purchased several brands of vino to pick and choose from. Accordingly, the imbibing began. And as the old adage goes, “A lady never kisses and tells.”

Today was Tuesday according the calendar on my wall. Work was the predictable humdrum train of malarkey, caboosed by a jazzy hairdo, a graduation prize courtesy of the best salon stylist this side of the Mississippi. Absurd how something as simple as a smidgen of pampering can elevate ones mind state. My evening is now gearing to a slow halt, so muchas gracious for allowing me to vent my moods and emotions in this forum. Goodnight all!