Call Meh Crazy

They say that crazy is defined as someone who repeatedly performs the same actions, expecting a different outcome. So I guess I must be crazy.

I keep on trusting, hoping, reaching out, expecting to find love. I deserve it, don’t I?

Okay, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’ve signed up for NaNoWriMo month (National Novel Writing Month). And I’ve pledged to complete 175 pages which equals 50,000 words (1666.66 words per *gasp* day) by November 30.

The only problem with that is, I’m not a novel writer. I’m a straight up non-fiction person. So…I have really done it this time. Set myself up to fail…or have I?

Might I not be expanding my horizons, as I did with writing my song? Discovering the hidden talent within?

Anyway…I could use your help. Above is one of the possible openings of the story. I’ll be creating a new blog just for the book, and I will send the link via newsletter to y’all (my subscribers). I’m counting on y’all to keep me focussed and tell me gently (y’all know I’m sensitive) what stinks or what needs fleshing out.

I would say wish me luck, but since I’m a Christian, I’ll say…pray for me.

Peace,
Dee

 

Do Overs…

“I have often wondered this and I figure I’m not the only one…”

If I could, I would go back to my 22nd year. I mean look at me. I’d discovered the wonders of makeup, colored contact lenses, hair dye and, oh glory,…weaves! Dang if I didn’t look good, in spite of all that! LOL.

It was a year filled with ups and downs. My husband cheated and was kicked out, by his own mama, who changed the locks on her apartment door. (Yeah, we lived with his parents. I was 19 and he was 18…but that’s another story), I became a femme fatale…(translation: deadly female) and dater extraordinaire. In my estimation, there was safety in numbers. I was attending auditions for commercials, background singing spots and background dancing spots.

My hair and consequently “my look” changed constantly. In fact, I had a wig collection that would make Regine of the sitcom entitled “Living Singleâ€? salivate.

I recall snagging a spotlight in a video with Keith Sweat’s non-singing-behind. He was assisting with the launch of a new singing group. I can’t remember their name but after so many repetitions the words of the chorus “All Night, All Night Long…Hit it!” stuck in my head.

Finally, we were thankfully up to the last and final take. (oxymoron?) I’m dancing happily away in my designated spot, grooving with my newfound Puerto Rican friend, when…she accidentally overbalances, thereby accidentally elbowing me out of the way and catching her balance, right dead center of my spotlight.

I gathered friends and family to see the side of my arm that had made it to video stardom. Alas, too trusting–yet again.

But all in all, despite all of the above…I remember 22 as a very good year. If you could, or better still, if you were granted just one wish and it had to do with turning back the hands of time…What age would you go back to and why?

 

Acid or Alkaline?

Due to my less than creditworthy status, last summer I had a prepaid cellphone offered through Liberty Wireless. It served its purpose. I paid $19.99 a month and for that fee I received a grand total of 80 anytime minutes for the month. If I used more, I paid more–simple. It was a great arrangement for someone working 15 hours a week at $10.00 an hour, but not a status quo I wanted to continue for an extended period of time, unless I intended to give up my present housing or stop eating. Eventually that $19.99 paid off and one of the temp agencies with which I was signed called with an offer of a longterm temp position. (YAY!) Two months into the assignment, an off the cuff conversation with my brother-in-law revealed the fact that I paid $39.99 for 200 anytime minutes and free nights and weekends. (Yup, I’d graduated!) My brother-in-law was flabbergasted but he calmed down a little when I mentioned my credit situation. He then thought about it for a minute then offered to get a phone for me in his name. I thought about it for 000 one second then said, “Yes!” ### Fast forward to the present:- I recently had an epiphany. I’ve been giving this cell number out willy nilly to prospective suitors and noticed that after a few conversations the phone calls ceased. I didn’t really pay it much mind because, hey, I know I’m interesting… About two months ago during a conversation with a prospective suitor, he asked, “Who’s Ray Ricketts?” to which I replied “My brother-in-law–why?” to which he replied “Uhm hmmm” like I had a hidden agenda or something. I just laughed it off and concluded the conversation. About three weeks later, when I thought about it, I realized that we hadn’t spoken–I stopped laughing. Could everyone else have thought I was creeping? And was he the only one honest enough to voice his opinions? I thought about using the hide identity feature on the phone but decided against it. In my family, if you dial with a hidden identity–you keep on ringing. So now, eventhough I’m aware of the caller ID quandary, I still give out my cell number sans warning, but now I watch to see who says something or not. This has now become my litmus test. I wanna see if a prospective suitor is acid or alkaline.