tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4477141260068341762024-02-07T16:48:39.384-08:00To be determined! I'm not yet sure. Originally was going to be a blog about my food adventures and looking for great food on a budget. However, recently I've decided to use this blog as a way to journal my journey from complancent to extraordinary. To give you my ideas and thoughts on food, love, God, family and everything inbetween. It's never too late to start so join me and leave comments. I'm a newbie so be nice and if you can't.. be vauge. Love you! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-46978176659858584012015-01-06T21:12:00.001-08:002015-01-06T21:12:38.373-08:00The one that got away? - Day 2<h2>
Day 2<br />The One That Got Away<br />You bump into an ex-lover on Valentine’s Day—the one whom you often call “The One<br />That Got Away.” What happens?</h2>
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Gabby could see her breath it was freezing cold all around her but inside she was burning up she could feel her resolve crumbling, She couldn't remember what she was supposed to be doing. All she wanted to do was submit to the urge. Give way to the passion, let it go don't fight it.<br />
"Gabby, I love you" The sound of DJ's voice reminded her of what she needed to do.<br />
"Please, Stop, I have to go we can't" She slowly stepped away keeping eye contact. Oh those eyes so pretty, she felt safe looking in those eyes. She stepped closer DJ smiled, that smile. Her blood ran cold, No stay focused,<br />
"Please, I'm sorry I have to go. I can't do this anymore" "Don't leave Gabriella, Please Don't leave"<br />
"I have to go"<br />
It took Gabby 20 mins in the car to stop shaking, when she got home she grabbed some Moose Tracks Ice Cream sat on her couch and turned on My Girl. Spent the rest of Valentines days crying. She stopped 4 months later.<br />
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It took Gabby a few minutes to assess the situation. She was in fact standing in the produce section closely resembling a child of a hobo and cat women. Her auburn ringlets sat on top of her head in a bun knotty bun. No bra, oversized sweatshirt and extremely dirty pajama pants. She was pretty sure her eye makeup had married her eye boogers and produced weird kohl colored babies that sat in her eyes. She was hopeful that she was hallucinating and the vision in front of her was not standing there. She closed her eyes and wiped the cold kohl babies out, took a deep breath and looked again.<br />
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"Gabriella? GABRIELLA! Is that you?" DJ stood not 2 feet away from here. It had been 5 years since she last saw her ex.<br />
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Gabby smiled, quickly remembering she hadn't brushed her teeth yet. She ventured to talk hoping her voice sounded stronger than she felt.<br />
"Hey DJ! Yes yes it is me. What are you doing here? How have you been? Why are you here? Are you still in the area? What.. what.. Hey? How are you?"<br />
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DJ chuckled, "I'm great, made VP doing really good, What brings you here on your favorite holiday? You normally spent it in a cocktail dress accompanying me to dinner. Why are you here? Like that?"<br />
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DJ took two swift steps invading Gabby's personal space. Gabby's ex reached out finding a rouge curl and twirled it.<br />
"Listen, I can ditch my chick for the night and take you out. It's obvious your single, maybe this is a sign from your God person. Maybe you needed some time alone to realize I am the one you need to be with. I'm assuming that ministry thing you left me for wasn't very lucrative huh? It's ok you miss me. I'll even let you do that Jesus stuff I've grown. I was wrong to look down on for your beliefs you can help the hungry or whatever, and I can keep you looking good while you do it. How's that? You ready to live?"<br />
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Gabby's mouth fell open. The audacity to assume because she was dressed homeless chic she was single and miserable. The idea that her current look was somehow related to her decision to follow God 5 years was not only rude but extremely laughable. Gabby thought about how ludicrous DJs statements were and began laughing.<br />
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This was not just a normal chuckle this was a deep hard laugh. She tried to get her words together.<br />
"You think? Haahahaa I'm haaahaaahaaa wow that's Haaahaaahahaaa." The tears started to flow she could not hold herself together. The aminigauted gall to assume was so DJ. Such a pretentious jerk. Oh wow how she was happy to be delivered from that mess. And all she could do was look at DJ and laugh. The laugh was contagious. DJ started laughing too. Unaware but amused.<br />
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"Wow thank you, Thank you very much that was a great laugh. I am not single, I'm actually on my third year of marriage, I have twin 2 year olds. And my new Valentine's Day ritual is to make love to my spouse eat Chinese food and get a good night sleep. We actually came out to get some supplies. Gatorade, strawberries, pineapple, you know stuff you wouldn't ever try. So No, I'm not at all interested in going back to you. I also am working on my third book deal, and I am 3 months away from starting my 2nd national tour speaking to God's people about Love and Acceptance."<br />
Ever the dickhead, DJ snickered and says<br />
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"Yeah sure, and where is the mystery mate today? Out with some more appealing lady?"<br />
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On nothing less than Godly timing Gabby heard her named called. <span style="color: red;"> </span><br />
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"Gabe! Gabe! Man, I thought we were supposed to meet up in the Ice cream aisle? Why haven't you left the produce section? You be slacking" They exchanged a quick kiss.<br />
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"I want you to meet someone. Um, Candy here was confused in the woman's aisle, I was telling her about that cup thingy, told her I would let you explain it cause I still don't fully understand"<br />
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Gabby shook Candy's, feeling sorry for Candy have to walk all the way over here to talk about her period she was probably mortified.<br />
"Hello, nice to meet you, here just take my number we can sit and talk about it over coffee or wine or something, you look all dolled up to go out."<br />
Candy smiled "Wow, thank you very much. You are actually talking to my date, we are on our way out to dinner, but I would love to take about the menstrual cups I have so many questions" <br />
"DJ is your date?"<br />
"Whose DJ?" Dre asked while preoccupied nibbling Gabbys' ear<br />
"Honey, this is DJ we dated 5 years ago. We broke up so I could focus on God and find myself, DJ was not very supportive of my ministry dreams. Thinks religion is for us unsmart folk"<br />
Dre smiled "Oh so nice to meet you. I'm so glad it didn't work out, I'm happy for your lost, I mean I don't know what to say" Gabby watched Dre and began laughing again.<br />
"Gabe? Why would you call her Gabe? Her name is Gabriella not that of a pre hormonal boy."<br />
"It's Gabe cause it rhymes with Babe and Gabriella is her professional name I'm the only one to call her Gabe. Dre smiled, gave Gabby the "make it better look", looked at DJ and said, "So, it was great to meet you uhh PJ? I hope you and Candy here have a great night, I'm guessing not so much for you since she's on the rag but hey what can you do? We need to get going, I have plans for this lady that includes those strawberries and this heavy cream"<br />
Dre grabbed Gabby's hand they gave a wave and briskly walked away. Gabby was still laughing when they got in the car. She said a quick prayer for DJ and Candy's heart hoping they would find God, if they hadn't already, she said a prayer of thanks for such a great life and asked for forgiveness for hoping Candy bleed all over DJ's car. She took a deep breath and drank her gatorade, she couldn't afford to get a cramp in the next few hours. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-37905401347856081722014-12-10T23:14:00.002-08:002014-12-10T23:14:07.714-08:00I'm bringing writing back Day 1<h2>
Day 1<br />Breaking Up With Writer’s Block<br />It’s time for you and Writer’s Block to part ways. Write a letter breaking up with Writer’s<br />Block, starting out with, “Dear Writer’s Block, it’s not you, it’s me …</h2>
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Ok Let's go<br />
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Dear Writer's Block,<br />
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It's not you it's me, I've allowed you take residence in my heart and mind. I've allowed you to take reign on me since that day in 8th grade when I decided I was not meant to be a writer. That day I made a choice to listen to the harsh and hateful voice in my head instead of the voices of my peers. That day I gave you power that you did not rightfully earn. I gave you the power to decide my fate and my future. I gave you my freedom of expression. I became a faithful prisoner under your control. I ignored the things I truly wanted to do. I closed my ears to the writers in my head. I ignored the yearning to go to poetry slams and join cyphers. I stopped short of the writers workshops getting brochures just long enough to read the type of classes but never asking my parents to send me to the writers camps. I considered your thoughts and not my wants and dreams. I never even whispered the dream to be a writer. I never even considered the possibilities of being a writer of putting the colors in my head down as words. I never let myself dream that dream. Instead for 20 years I've silently painted beautiful pictures with words in my head. I've secretly listened to soliloquies rambled by characters never inscribed. For years I've wrote stories in my head never attempting to free them, keeping them prisoner like you did me. I've pushed aside character bios and lines of poems begging to come to life. I've killed the stories before they had a chance to take root and grow. I allowed the fear of being heard to outweigh the loudness of my screams. It's me Mr. Block. It's always been me. I've wasted our time, I waited for you to get the balls to leave, but why would a leech voluntarily fall off it's source of blood? Why would a parasite leave it's source of life? It wouldn't Mr. Block, it would attach and never give up because it would die without the source. Without my willingness to be bound you would died a long time ago. Possibly coming by for visits but never taking residence for this long. Sir, you should have tried harder. You shouldn't have let me go. I was a very good source. And I know you tried. I know you knew how awesome I could be. That's why you chose me. I can't imagine it was accidental. You saw me on that day, that day i had doubt in my abilities to be something more and you decided that I would be a good source. I can't imagine you thought it would 20 years later that I would get rid of you. Maybe you did. Maybe you took me as a lifer. Full of potential scared of change. But you messed up, you allowed me to see the wrong prompt, you didn't realize that years of reading instead of writing would train me still. You didn't realize that the guy walking in the woods took that walk often, the difference came after the day he changed his choice. You don't understand me. You don't love me. You never cared about me. Maybe it was fear Mr. Block maybe you were scared of what might happen if I stepped into the awesome. Maybe you were worried about how my greatness would manifest in the realm of things around us. Perhaps I was. I'm sure I was. But today I'm breaking up with you. I'm sure we will see each other around here and there but I'm just not willing to stay in this relationship with you anymore. We can keep going back and forth I could let you stay here but I would be killing myself sir. I could but I wont. It's over and I could say I'm sorry but I'm not. So goodbye Writers Block, it's been real. I'm pretty sure you owe me some back pay.<br />
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Pregnant with expectation,<br />
Cynethia Williams<br />
Mother, Daughter Sister, Girlfriend, Cook & Writer etc.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-89240615884318682412014-08-14T11:08:00.002-07:002014-08-14T11:08:59.509-07:00SuicideI remember when I tried to kill myself I was in high school I think, 9th grade. It was somewhere between my sisters' death and my first abortion. I drank some medicine we had leftover from when I had mono (I was NOT kissing boys I was sharing food and drinks with my friends -don't judge) But I drank this medicine wrote a goodbye letter and waited.. but nothing happened. Looking back I should have drank more than the swig I took (it was nasty) and medicine that is expired does lose some potency. My Mother found me and my letter and initial yelled. I'm pretty sure she was scared and confused as to why her oldest child would want to kill herself. I remember her telling me how selfish suicide is. And She was telling the truth. Suicide is selfish. When your in that space your thinking Me dead is easier for everyone. This doesn't seem a very selfish thing to think on the surface but in actuality, it's pride that makes us unwilling to say Ouch. It's pride that caused me to say I'm going to die instead of asking for help. It sucks and I know it's not nice to say but if you unwilling to get help for fear of how it will effect others your prideful and judgmental, and your judging yourself worst than anyone else will.<br />
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I was 30 when I find out I had depression. My only suicide attempt was in my Freshman year of High School. I never spoke about it again because I never considered it a defining part in my life. It was more like a mistake that I was saved from. The last few weeks/months have been hard for me. I thought it was nothing i was just tired. I thought maybe it was anxiety with the new job, maybe the kids being seniors, lack of sex I didn't know i just knew it had been a hard few months. I didn't want go out. I didn't want to work out (i never want to work out) I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to cook. I just wanted to sit and think or sleep and read. I'll want to go outside but the amount of effort it would take to get up and get ready was more than I had to give. Even now, right now it's taken me 3 days to write this post because I can't make myself care enough to do it and finish and proof read and think. It's Effort. Depression is not about being sad all day or crying it's about being in a state of blah. I don't know how else to explain it.<br />
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Imagine being on the beach when a bad storm comes in you take cover and wait for it to pass. But it never really passes all the way there is still an overcast, and some showers. Then one day you look and see sunshine on the other side of the beach, but to get to it you have to go through a ditch. Now, you can sit comfortable in the gloomy skies and annoying mist OR you can jump the ditch. IF you decide to jump in the ditch you'll soon realize it is full of quicksand and about midday just when you finish with that it turns into tar and it gets harder then you get to the edge but before you can get to the sunshine you have to climb a the wall of the ditch. And when you get to the top of the wall and you finally get out the ditch your tired. But your scared that IF you allow yourself to sleep you might miss the sun you worked so hard to get to. So you have to learn to trust yourself and your weaknesses then you get to enjoy the sun, and ever so often you turn around and see the ditch and gloominess you ran from. When you take drugs, it gives you a ladder to use to help but you still have to do it.<br />
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I want you to know this. It's ok to say ouch. It's ok to scream OUCH!!!, FUCK this hurts. DAMN IT this sucks I want OUT I can't do this, It's ok. Say it.. say it loudly scream it. It's ok. There are people that are paid to hear you. People who are paid to listen and teach you how to get through the ditch. Speak up. We want to hear you. We want to help you. We really do love you. I know it's hard and if i could walk through the ditch for you I would, but I can't. So I'll walk through my ditch, and when i get out I'll cook you something so that when your finished we can break bread together.<br />
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I need you to survive. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-69508372199530846312014-08-12T15:45:00.000-07:002014-08-12T15:47:21.063-07:00The First Day<div>
8/7/14 @ 11:45 pm </div>
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Sleep is not doing easy tonight. I have made a decision to go to a workout class tomorrow and my anxiety (or the enchilada i just ate) is giving my heartburn. I'm worried what I will look like in stretch pants and a tight shirt in a room full of skinny slender tall women. I keep seeing myself as a lumpy uncoordinated non dancer. Maybe I should stop trying to be things I'm not.<br />
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8/8/14 @ 1:30 PM<br />
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Ok so I feel a LITTLE better this morning. I still nervous about class trying to find an excuse not to go but i really want to go. I think it might be expensive though - and spending money on myself has never been an easy thing for me to do. BUT if i'm Honest with myself secretly in the back of my head I'm not always happy with the way I look. I don't want to be much smaller I don't like skinny women. I like girls that are 'TICK' (Jamaican accent) I think my main if not only complaint is my belly I'm tired of seeing it. I feel like I'm 5 months pregnant. I foolishly stepped on the scale a few days ago.. it said 210. It is time.<br />
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So here's the plan:<br />
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1. I want to download Pact to my phone. Pact is an app that pays you to workout and eat healthy.<br />
1A. To do this I will HAVE to buy a new phone. The app won't download to my phone because it's the first EVER smartphone made and things have changed over the years. (please don't laugh at me)<br />
2. Join Pure Barre - They say it takes 10 classes to really get it so I'm committing to 3 weeks 4 days a week - It's going to cost me about $100 - To offset the price I've decided to not eat out for the rest of the month - no store brought coffee, no breakfast sandwiches, This is going to be hard folks.<br />
3. Not Quit. I'm going to try really hard to NOT quit...<br />
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OK Lets do this!<br />
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... I really hope there are some chubby chicks in this class...<br />
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You never want to be in the class and everyone KNOWS you just started like.. awww poor little fat girl wants to get healthy "Good Job Cynthia, you looked good today" "OMG, you really did well keep at it you'll see results in no time" "Hey! I was your size just 2 weeks ago.. look at me.. if i can do it you can do"..... I don't want encouragement I don't want to be talked to.. I just want to be lost in the back of the class..<br />
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8/12/14<br />
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I still haven't gone to a class... smhAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-57958092482812040222014-08-07T19:32:00.001-07:002014-08-07T19:32:45.164-07:00SELF CHALLENGE!! Lets Journal Out Loud! <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I've been having a hard few - life. Yeah, that sums it up BUT these last few months since school started have been especially difficult for some reason. However, I'm pretty sure it's all for comic relief in the end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And in the slight chance that If I ever become unsure of God's comedic geniusness I just remember the platypus. It's a duck and a beaver and it's named platypus (that my friends is comedy!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Through it all I've been wanting to write. The problem, my topics where all over the place. I wanted to bring something of substance something that was meaningful, something interesting and all I had was me. (WOW that was deep) Me, and my life, my complicated, messy, hard to understand life. I repeatedly said to myself nobody wants to hear this craziness but one day you should write a book. It was/is so confusing. Then after a few hours or thought I decided to simply Journal Out Loud. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the plan, I'm going to use this blog as a journal, honest and true. I'm gong to try really hard to not worry about what anyone else will get from it or learn. I will not wonder what you might think of me if i say ouch or $hit and I will try really hard to just be me. Out loud in Black and white... or <span style="color: red;">R</span><span style="color: orange;">a</span><span style="color: yellow;">i</span><span style="color: lime;">n</span><span style="color: cyan;">b</span><span style="color: blue;">o</span><span style="color: purple;">w. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I promise to be honest and open. I promise to tell as much as my truth as I can and I promise to commit to do this for a year. a full year.. whats today? Ok SO Aug 8th 2015 I will have at least 52 blog entries. (Once a week folks) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And for those Christ Lovers I know </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-37273744738155895332014-01-06T13:59:00.004-08:002014-01-06T13:59:49.690-08:00At this Thyme<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning was a rocky morning, I spent a lot of time trying to convince myself to just get there. I spent the morning rushing to get somewhere I have waited my whole life to be. I pulled up and they were also waiting on me. The last one to arrive. On time but later than I wanted to be. In the midst of my rocky morning, I had a few displays of loves not just from my friends and family but from God. I had one friend remind me to be me, and have fun, I had a brother hug me and tell me he loved me, any parent of a 17 yo boy will tell you what a miracle that is. My daughter looked at me as I was dropping her off at school and took a second to let me know it was going to be ok and that I could relax. I had an email saying I was loved and even as i was praying away my anxiousness in the car, the Kaneshow happened to play a recording of DMX praying before one of his shows. Now, I'm not saying his voice calmed me down by no means, but no matter who says it the name Jesus will change some things in your spirit. I've spent a lot of my day going over the mistakes I've made, but over and over again, things would happen to remind me that I am loved, I am highly favored and I am made in His image so I am good. Sometimes we miss an opportunity that we were sure was made for us, sometimes we blow the one chance we feel we had to make a difference in our lives. Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them too, need them too, expect them too. But in all times ALLTIMES we are loved, we are loved we are loved. In all times, we are exactly where we are supposed to be at that very moment in time. At all times all things are working for your good. In ALL times God is. </span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-17630706551488620492013-04-18T09:50:00.001-07:002013-04-18T09:50:51.927-07:00But God20 years ago today, my sisters Rasheeda and Rashawn were born. I don't remember much from that day. 7 months later Rashawn passed away. They had both spent most of their lives in the hospital, in the NICU, Incubators, we had to scrub our hands and put on masks before we were able to see them. When they finally came home, Rasheeda first then Rashawn we had to keep a pristine house, boxes of antibacterial scrub brushes were everywhere, selective friends and family were allowed in the house. I would watch them in their crib, astonished that 2 babies so different in size could actually look so much alike. Rashawn was much smaller, but she seemed stronger. She wasn't as lazy as Sheeda. She held her own bottle which was half her size, she was holding her head up first. Sometimes, Rasheeda would lean over too far and fall on Rashawn, and start crying, I noticed that it wasn't the fall that would make Sheeda cry but the fact that Rashawn would Pinch her whenever she would fall on her. I KNEW me and Rashawn would be very close, she was determined even at 4 months. Her stature would not be an obstacle but a blessing. <br />
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I don't remember much from the day they were born, but I have very clear memories of visiting them, of going to the hospital, the nurses, the food in the cafeteria, Luckily I don't remember their doctor but I know I met him. I also remember the day she died. It was my mother's birthday, Rashawn had a procedure so I had to spend the night at my friends house, it was a week day. I decided to get my mom a very nice fake rose for her birthday. I could only afford something from the dollar store, so I made up some story about it being a forever rose so she wouldn't realize it was from the dollar store. I remember, instead of spending the night i was picked up and taken home. No real explanation. I remember sitting on the couch as my mother walked in holding Rashawns blanket, she was crying from the worst pain I have ever seen. I was scared. My family was all around, helping her get to bed, making her a plate of food, a drink, a joint, anything to help numb the pain and all I did was stand there holding my brother's hand. I don't know when I started to cry. I know i was in my room alot after that. Cousins evading my space and helping my cope. I remember feeling guilty because I ate all my food and wanted seconds. Some said "Well, you must be ok you didn't lose your appetite" they didn't say it as a put down, they were genuinely happy that i was ok. But the guilt was still there. Later on the funeral was being planned and I was still just in my room and a few people came up to talk to me, hug me give me a kiss. They would also remind me to be strong form my mom and brother. They needed my help and since I was old enough (11) the best thing I could do was keep it together for my family. I tried my best. After the funeral my mom would go to the grave site everyday and stay for hours. She would sit and talk to Rashawn, watch the kids play across the street and laugh and cry. I think that was her therapy. Sometimes I would go with her, just for support. Eventually she got better, she didn't have to visit everyday, she moved on still missing her child but able to function more and more in society. <br />
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As fate would have it the other day I ended up in front of the hospital where my sister died. I have actually avoided this hospital for 20 years. If I'm in DC and I get a familiar feeling, I instinctively turn the opposite direction. However, a few Sunday's ago God would place me in front of this hospital, unprepared for what happened next. My family was with me but they were both sleep in the car. I drove up to the hospital and got out, prepping myself to do something outrageous, to break a window, or punch a wall, or nurse, to scream I HATE YOU at the building, but sane people don't that type of stuff so I got out the car, looked at the building and drove home, crying to myself. The next morning, it all became clear to me, I had never allowed myself to go crazy. My sister dying had such an impact on my life but I never noticed. Sometimes it's the silent things that have make the biggest disturbance in our lives. Over the years, I have unsuccessfully most times, attempted to keep it together. I'm strong, I look at things practically, and objectively. I let myself cry as needed but not at all excessively. I have an unhealthy connection to the best friends i had when i was 11. I haven't talked to these ladies in years, and I still call them my best friends. I know at least one got married and I was not on the invite list, and I was genuinely hurt. Again, I haven't spoken to them for years. BUT somewhere in my heart i still held on to her as if she was my forever friend. I realized that I don't go to the doctors enough, nor do I take my daughter enough. I also realized I purposely look a mess when i first meet people, in hopes to keep the shallow people away. Right after my sister died, people in school that didn't like me, were giving me hugs, and cards and saying sorry. I was so annoyed by their pity that i began to lash out. I didn't want to me treated differently I wanted to be treated the same. I wanted to blend in, so for about 15 years, all I wore was variations of black. I didn't notice it at first but my whole wardrobe was black with a pop of color. I even stop asking my family to do my hair, i didn't care to be noticed or pretty or anything. I just wanted to keep my friends and help my mom. I also realized, my depression which i began treatment for last year, after a bad adoption situation (save that for another blog) was really all about my sister. The feeling of another baby that wasn't mine being taken from me didn't start the depression as i thought it simply reactivated a sadness that had been in me for 20 years. I was reliving the inability to do anything, the staying strong for the friends and family that got attached so they could heal. I was the same 11 year old little girl that was trying to keep it together and stay sane so everyone else would be ok. the difference was, they didn't need me to be ok. Like the people I was mad at in Middle School they were just waiting for me to do the natural thing. To be sad, and mad, and grieve, instead I said "it's ok, guys God is in control." BUT GOD!<br />
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God, allowed me to go to that hospital, because he has a plan for me. He allowed me to go to the beginning of my pain to show me it's time to call a hurt a hurt. He allowed me to go there so I can allow my friends to help me. SO I can say out loud I didn't want to get out of bed today, but my best friend sent me a text that said I love you, so I did. He allowed me to see what I've been missing so I can no longer be numb. So I can feel the good and the bad. So I can say Ouch and Hallelujah. He required me to face my fear, so I can say shut up I'm not scared anymore. Being hurt is not the end result, it's simply a by product the ending is healing. Always. I know it doesn't make much sense, but after that trip I realized, my Sister's death had a purpose. To heal us. My mom at the time was in a very abusive relationship. My sisters death I think gave my the courage and strength to say no more. If she hadn't died, I may not have made it. I might have had to die for her. I don't understand God's plans but I starting to trust that He really knows what He's doing. So Today I say I love you & Happy birthday Rasheeda & I Miss you & Thank you Rashawn.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-84270339923208894392013-01-21T18:43:00.000-08:002013-01-21T18:43:04.706-08:00Last Night I had a DreamLast night I had a dream that I was standing around with some church family, we might have been visiting a hospital or something similar. As we were standing, My Rev. happened to look at me and noticed my sullen state, and told Ms. Candace (one of my favorite members) "Figure out whats going on and let me know what you need" Ms. Candace then came over to me and gave me one of those side hugs and asked very cordially "How's your mother doing?" I looked at her and started to cry, as I searched for the words to answer her question, Then she said, "Ok, then Where is Granny Vines?" I then began to try to explain that she wasn't coming but I was crying too hard. I continued to cry harder and harder unto the point I woke myself up. I was so confused at first I just kept crying and as the haze of sleepiness wore off I realized that my dream had uncovered some issues that I was unwillingly having to deal with. <br />
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Yesterday, Elder Vikki Johnson wrote on her Facebook Page <em><span style="color: red;">"</span></em><span class="userContent"><em><span style="color: red;"><span class="userContent">I had a dream last night that I believe is for some of you. It seems like people & things are rapidly "disconnecting", shifting around, or being removed from your life. Surrender to it. Stop trying to "hold on" as God is making room in your life for what's coming. The HIGHER you go, the lighter & more flexible you need to be to maneuver in your life's purpose!</span>"</span></em> This was for me very coincidental because the day prior I had a friend tell me she was feeling disconnected from me. She gave her reasons which I will save for another post and though I disagree with her I respect them and after some time to think I decided to just be me, and let God control the rest. So when I saw the above message I KNEW it was God telling me to let go and move along. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">So I started my Sunday in high hopes. I knew I would miss church because of my daughters basketball game but I set a side a few moments of prayer made some breakfast and proceeded with my day. We had a great basketball game, though my daughter wasn't feel well. She spent most of the game sleep in my lap. We decided after to game to go visit my grandmother. My daughter wanted to hang out, so it took her a few hours to realize that she was sick and needed to lay down, she slept most of the day but the rest of us had a great time. It was a full of playing cards and laughter, we ate hot dogs and beans and talked. I had a few questions I wanted to ask her but I couldn't find the nerve so I just listened and tried to sneak the questions in the conversation, to no avail. As we were beginning to leave My grandma remembered that she recently found a letter my father wrote a few months after my birth admitting his paternity. I was overcome with gratitude that a young man back in 1982 would adopt me at 3 months old as his own. In my moment of clarity I asked my first question, "Grandma, if Toni and I were to get married would you come?" She replied quickly and in certainty "No, I will not" I reminded her that she had said the same about my cousins wedding, and we both went to that wedding, but she said again "No, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to be there, I wont come to your wedding" </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">Initially, I felt sad. Sad that I couldn't be what she wanted me to be. Sad that I disappointed her. I was sad because I had already decided that part of my wedding plans would be to honor her somehow or at least thank her publicly. I was sad because as my therapist so awesomely explained her approval means a lot to me and the fact that she clearly does not approve of my relationship really hurt my feelings. We talked some more about less touchy subjects and finally we left. Toni and I talked briefly about grandma's decision in the car ride home, but I decided secretly I wasn't going to worry about it. I would just do whatever God told me to do. Sad or not. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">When we got home, I prepared my daughter for bed and she started crying cause she just didn't feel good. She didn't enjoy feeling so crappy and she wanted her relief sooner rather than later. I looked down at the mini me in pain in front of me and simply said "I know it sucks". I didn't realize it then but I had just spoken to myself. So later that night when my sobs of disappointment woke me from my deep sleep I reminded myself that I made a decision to let it go! Why then are you still crying? The problem was I didn't know how to fully let go. I thought I had, but when you wake up in the middle of the night crying it may be an indication that you need to deal with something. As the sun rose and the sobs started to ease I began to realize what I missed in my letting go was allowing myself to grieve. I had not given in to the grief of unfulfilled expectations. I had let go but didn't allow myself to cry over the lost. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">So today I thank God that last night I had a dream. A dream that allowed me to voice those things that I wanted and let go of the things I can't change. I thank God for the dreams. The dream of me and my future wife in a paid for house sending our children to school. The dream of my brother making the dean's list and graduating magna cum laude. Dreams of debt free living. </span><span class="userContent">I didn't know I needed to dream but I'm very grateful to God that last night I finally did. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-88786404048224095302012-11-28T08:15:00.002-08:002012-11-28T08:17:15.495-08:00Crap Happens - Have a nice day<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have been putting this post off for at least 2 weeks.</span> I've had a hard time finding a way to get out all my thoughts and feelings on the subject without this being a 12 page dissertation on unexpected events and crappy lives. Out of anger at recent events in my life I was unable to verbalize all I wanted to say in a way that was interesting and uplifting. Then I spent a few days with one of my brothers, and this morning it all made a little more sense so I'm going to try again. <br />
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Growing up my life was somewhat normal, or at least I thought. I was unaware of how abnormal my life was. I might be the only person that could watch an after school special or sit through D.A.R.E. presentations and think, "Wait, what? That's not normal?" I think I am the reason we had those assemblies, the teachers and staffs wanted to make ME aware of how abnormal my life really was. You realize they don't have them anymore? Because I'm fully aware of what crazy is now! It's ok, your welcome. <br />
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My first brother came around when I was 9, we were solo for a few years until my mother had twin girls. One of the twins died at 7 months. My mother took self medicated to deal with the grief for a few years then my baby brother was born soon there after she had the last baby girl. 5 kids 3 girls 2 boys. (Side note: A few years ago I found out I had a sister by my birth father she's a few years younger than me. So I actually have 3 sisters. Though I only grew up with 2) <br />
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My mom and I were a good team, she worked, I cooked. I took care of the kids, she paid the bills. Not very complicated always but hard nonetheless. We went through a lot, and still do! We haven't spent a Christmas or any holiday together in at least 3 or 4 years. Some years ago, the baby girl was diagnosed with Lymphoma. I'm happy to say she proceeded to kick cancers ass & now she's a cancer survivor at 15! We have a web of baby daddy drama so hilarious that Maury himself would need a power point presentation and diagrams to fully understand. Growing up 90% of the stuff in our house was either broken or modified somehow, when I say modified think duct tape and paperclips. I remember when I went to the store to buy furniture and appliances for my first apartment, thinking, Wow - I never had a new Microwave, coffer maker or even a working can opener. Can you imagine my 14 year old self opening 4 cans of chef boy r dee with a knife? Life was hard, but comical! <br />
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The Bible says a merry heart is good like medicine, and I truly believe laughter kept us out of therapy all those years. At night we would put on plays & musical productions for my mother. One of our favorite scenes was one from Lion King. Do you remember close to the end when Timon and Pumba tries to sneak Simba back to Pride rock? They dress in drag and do the hula? Yep, we remade that better than any Broadway play! I would also do small private scenes for my mother before bed, such as but not limited to: standing in line, being a tree, Old lady walking, and mowing the lawn - I think being a tree was her favorite! <br />
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Somehow in the midst of the crazy, (trust me there was LOT of crazy, domestic violence, drug abuse, molestation, you name it we dealt with it) we all have come out somewhat "normal" we have clear visions of who we are, we love and respect our parents (known and unknown) we tend to give more than usual to the unfortunate, we love each other and fight for each other, we cry together and laugh a LOT. After talking to my brother this weekend I realized we all understand and accept that bad things happen, so you might as well have a good day. Not only is it a waste of time crying of spilled milk, it's a LOT more fun to laugh at the way it fell down and the person who dropped it's face when it happened! <br />
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These past weeks have been hard, not just for me but it seems like for a lot of people around me too. Deaths, money woes, sicknesses and lots of questions to God about situations. All I can offer is prayer and the assurance of these Three things, 1. $hit happens, it has to. It's not personal, it's just crap. It's going to happen again. You will be ok. 2. There is not only a reason, but a GOOD reason for it! When my sister passed away my mother listened to a Zhane song frequently that says everything happens for a reason. The Bible goes a step further, Rom 8:28 says: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.& 3. Understanding the reasons are not as important as you may think. God is Sovereign, He does whatsoever He wants when and how he wants.The Word says in Ecc 11:5 As you do not know the path of the wind, <span class="indent-1"><span class="text Eccl-11-5">or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, </span></span><span class="text Eccl-11-5">so you cannot understand the work of God,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Eccl-11-5">the Maker of all things.</span></span><br />
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Eccl-11-5">I can't begin to tell you why the crap happens, I can't explain 9/11 or Katrina, I can't explain why babies die on mothers birthday's or why fighting the men that beat my mother was a pass time of mine for a few years in my life. I can't tell you why nor do I understand, what the hell cancer or asthma or heart disease are even needed for nor why they are not yet cured. I don't know why old people or kids or nice people die. I don't know. What I do know is there is a GOOD reason. I also know, it's typically a waste of time to try to figure out said reason & it's much easier to just trust there is a good reason. </span></span><br />
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Eccl-11-5">Nobody said it would be easy (and if they did they lied) but I promise you there is a good reason and great outcome from it. Whatever it is. I promise you. So, clean up the milk, laugh at the situation and have a great day/week/month/year/life. Crap happens & God loves you, now have a nice day. </span></span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-54483901086946013802012-11-13T20:26:00.001-08:002012-11-13T20:26:13.029-08:00Application Process<span style="color: blue;">So for school I needed to write an admissions essay... this is not something I'm used to. I decided to be transparent with this blog SO I decided to add it here. Let me know what you think. Thanks!</span><br />
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<span lang="">It was 7 am we had only been in New Orleans for about 5 hours, it was a long ride from Baltimore but the smell that just hit me made the trip the best idea ever. I was hungry, well I was always hungry but for some reason the smells that wafted through my Aunt Mildred’s house made a new hunger wake up in me, I needed to know what was going on. I decided sleep would come later, I needed to find the culprit. . I grabbed my best friend Sammy, my teddy bear-dog, and began my journey to find the smell that will evidentially change my life forever. <br />
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I walked through the house using my nose as a guide like a blood hound on a chase. Sammy and I arrived at the kitchen, what I saw was a bustle of activity. The kitchen had become a dance floor, 2 people dancing around but not even looking at each other. When my aunt would go up my cousin would go back, on at the chopping block one at the oven. Bending, turning all in the kitchen. I had only ever seen one person in the kitchen at a time. <br />
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I would watch my grandmother or my father cook, often. My dad would talk to himself the whole time, often eating the food as it cooked and getting very happy with the outcome. He would also make a mess of the kitchen until the last few minutes when he would wash everything. My grandmother was a much quieter cook. She would hum or sing if not fuss about the goings on in the other rooms of the house. She wouldn’t taste her food as she cooked she had full confidence in her sight and memory. She knew what it would taste like cause she had made it a million times before. If it was something she wasn’t sure she would call her sisters and they would walk her through it. If either one came into the kitchen while the other was cooking, it was like WW3. They would fuss each other out, and kick each other out the room. Often you heard "I don’t bother you when you cook don’t bother me when I cook". And I would sit and watch and take mental notes waiting for the chance to try a recipe or walk around the kitchen talking to myself, or on the phone with my granny getting a recipe as I cooked it. <br />
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This was totally different, the dance and the smells were totally foreign to me. They worked in silence adding things to each other’s pots when the other wasn’t looking. Ever so often looking up and winking at me with a smile. It was magical. Sammy and I sat in awe. With a smile and deep breathe the dance was over, the last pan out of the oven. A quick scan around the kitchen and finally my aunt yells "Breakfast!" I watched as my cousins and distant relatives complete with Bed head, PJs’ on and Eye crust in their eyes file in line one by one to eat good food and sit down, as I start to get up and get in line as not to miss out on the awesome my Aunt looks at me and tells me "Sit still, the cooks eat last sweetheart" <br />
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I wanted to cry. I was unsure if it was from happiness or sadness. I was so happy she called me a cook, but I was so sad I couldn’t eat. As I debated the irony of my predicament, my cousin handed me a plate. She smiled at me and said "JR Chef’s get an early plate to make sure everything taste ok, can you handle that job?" I shook my head scared that my voice would escape me if I tried to verbally answer. Before me was a plate of wonder and pure awesome. Fried Fish, Grits, a biscuit with some form of gravy on it, thick bacon, fried potatoes, cheese eggs and few pieces of fruit. Now the tears began to fall. It was so pretty, and I was so hungry. I had never seen these foods actually together for breakfast. I think I inhaled the food. My cousin stood and watched me. one I can up for air, drinking my full glass of milk she said "Safe?" I smiled and said "Yes Ma’am I think so". <br />
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After a quick shower and a hateful session getting my hair done, I took my seat by the kitchen I would spend the rest of our trip watching my aunt and cousin cook. Ribs, gumbo, rice and Beans, Fried chicken, Crawfish Po’Boys, even mini donuts covered in sugar. The end of that trip was bitter sweet, I of course was happy to go home see my parents and start tearing up the kitchen with the things I’ve watched for 4 days. But I never wanted to leave. I wanted to sit in my chair and watch them cook forever. But I had to go home. Summer only last so long. <br />
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When I got home, I began to cook anything. EVERYTHING! They didn’t all taste like New Orleans. Some were just plain nasty. But I tried. My father would later say "You were always a smarter and more adventurous cook than your grandmother and I, we are stubborn cooks. We do what we know, you like to try stuff you see, or think will taste good. Yes Culinary school will be great for you" <br />
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Still I struggled with the idea of being a chef. Even now I’m frightened by the idea of cooking for people other than my family and friends. When I cook I put my love in the pot and on the plate. I try to tell a story and invoke the same emotions I had the first time I fell in love with food. What do you do when they don’t love you back? How can a cooking school help me love people more? I want to learn how to make everyone feel loved. I want to know how food should taste and look, techniques and understand why I cry when I hear about a new recipe or taste an innovative dish. I feel and I know that L’Academie De Cuisine will help me start the journey to perfect the work that started, 20+ years ago in a kitchen in New Orleans. <br />
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</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-31826364806066522752012-10-02T09:08:00.000-07:002012-10-02T09:09:24.744-07:00Enter catchy Title here<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">May I be honest? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These posts have become really hard for me to write. Not because I don't have anything to say but mainly because I've challenged myself to be honest and some stuff I just don't want you to know!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(We are almost at double digits! WOOO WHHOO!) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lately I have been struggling with a few things. My plan was to write about blog about expectations. Using my daughter and family as a very nice example on how we let our expectations get in the way of our reality. But... my expectation got in the way of my reality. So instead today I want to talk about some personal things. 1. How funny my money is and 2. how iffy my sexuality is. Please trust me when I say, this is a lot harder than I expected. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been arguing with God for a few weeks. I keep telling him, Hey I'm an heir I really need some directions, can you please tell me what to do next? His responses have been, well I don't know, He doesn't really "talk" to me the way other people say He talks to them.We don’t really have conversations per say. I’ll pray and then sometimes I just feel different about things or hear a word from different unrelated places that I take as a sign. Sometimes I'll understand something differently than I did before. Like is said not a conversation but communication none the less.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My issue has been that, I don’t know what to do next. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m very happy to say that during the last few years I have moved from self-hate and guilt over my sexuality to understanding that God loves me. God is NOT disappointed in how I turned out and that I was the only one surprised or upset by my sexuality. I had a warped idea of God's love. I believed it to be conditional. I believed that if I was X, then He would Y, but the truth is He Is. God doesn't change in accordance to our situation or status. God is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, it wasn't until recent years that I began to understand that truth. It wasn't until recent that I was able to accept the Love God had shown to me not because I deserve it but because He gave it. Though I was surrounded by love and caring family and friends that knew my status I was scared that I was not living up to the promise. I was convinced that like a drunk person needs to get sober first that I needed to get straight first before I did anything meaningful and successful in the body of Christ. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was miserable. I was too straight to be gay and too gay to be straight. I was a walking contradiction. I was so full of words and love from God but I was too scared to say anything because maybe my gay would fall out and I would lose all credibility. Gay and Christian is supposed to be an anomaly. You’re just not normal. Something is wrong, you must have been molested or raped or hurting inside. You have daddy or mommy issues. Your parents don’t love you enough. I believed by admitting I was gay I was admitting that the enemy had me. I was scared that even if I spoke of my gay it would become truth, and I so wanted it to be a lie. I so wanted to be normal and holy and godly and a good Christian, there was no way I could do that if I were Gay. I was abnormal and not very useful. And just in case you need to hear this, Those are ALL lies from the pit of hell. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a few talks with my Pastor and even trying to run away from a few conversations with my associate pastor I came to the realization that God is not limited to my holiness or lack thereof. I had to realize that though God is very capable of turning a gay person straight that was may not be the lot he had for me. He wants me to be whole. He wants me to love me so I can better love you. He wants to be ok with whatsoever He decides for my life. The problem comes in when I began to accept myself but I had no idea what to do with myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thank God for my Pastors and friends that prayed for me and helped me to understand the Truth of God. Which is simply put: Cynethia, I love you I love you I love you- God. Gay Straight black or white He loves you. I won’t get into the argument of born gay vs. choosing gay. I won’t bore you with the 7 verses that are anti Gay in the whole bible vs. the many more about loving each other and not judging but I digress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I have spent that last few weeks saying <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Ok God, So, I’m cool with being Gay, but now what? Do I get married? Do I do ministry now? Do I start a gay ministry? Do I argue with anti gays? What now? I want to do want you want me to do but I don’t know what that is, so I’ll sit here and wait” Do you know what happened? I realized that God wanted me to do what he told me to do, and just like you I sat and said “And that was what?” I had no clue, what He wanted from me. I had been focused on being ok with myself, I had taken notes when God said, whatever He said when he said it. Doesn’t he know I forgot? I would like a reminder or something! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then I realized there was one area that I was wanting to trust Him in but I wasn’t fully and that brings me to money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God was very specific with money issues in the Bible. He wasn’t always as clear with other issues. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often reminded Him of this I would pray and say “Hey God! How you been? Good um, you never said, yes or no or the gay thing completely or which marriage is “correct” or if slavery is really wrong or dating only your color or premarital sex – when are you married? When you have sex? Or when you sign the papers? just be real with me, Tell me what I need to do! I want to have kids, I want to get married, so what’s allowed and not allowed? Don’t worry I have my paper today I’ll take notes” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, God made clear to me – Pay your tithes. I know what you’re thinking. What? What does money have to do with your sexuality? I was thoroughly confused. Slowly I began to realize this is really about that. See Obedience is better than sacrifice. I need to stop and follow the truths that I’m sure of while I search for answers to the questions I don’t know. I need to do what the Lord said clearly before I ask Him to make clear the murky places. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pay your tithes Cynethia. No, it’s doesn’t make sense. You make $1100 a paycheck your rent is $1380 and your bills are about $300 a month not including groceries, and don’t forget the money you owe girl scouts, the soccer coach and your overdrawn bank account, yeah and just like I knew you were gay long before you knew, I also knew your finances would never be a mess, so submit and pay your tithes. Take the limits off and see Me work in your finances. OBEY me. Stop worrying about who to marry, what your church will say if you get married, stop worrying about getting pregnant and how that will look to the kingdom stop worrying about all the stuff I have yet to reveal to you, and do the last thing I told you to do. Tithe. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That’s where I’m at. I won’t worry about or try to understand anything else until I obey the commands I know. This may not be a great message of hope and it may be more information than I really wanted to share, but I’ve decided to just obey. It doesn’t always make sense, but I’m trusting that this is about that and that this will help someone somewhere. I pray for God’s blessing over this post and the readers. I pray that God will fix up any and every trick of the enemy to use this for bad. I pray the spirit of fear and confusion die right now as you read this <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and every time someone reads this and I pray that the spirit of compassion and love will live and thrive in your life. I pray for courage and strength and ways to show God’s radical love to others. I pray for you and I pray you will pray for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you for reading. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-62030152304512906202012-09-06T06:45:00.002-07:002012-09-06T06:46:45.744-07:00MIddle school and such<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
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1 <span class="ssens"><em class="sn">a</em> <em>archaic</em> <strong>:</strong> to check, test, or verify by evidence or experiments </span><span class="ssens"><span class="break"></span><em class="sn">b</em> <strong>:</strong> to incorporate suitable <a class="formulaic" href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/controls">controls</a> in <span class="vi"><a <em>controlled</em> experiment></span> </span></div>
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2<span class="ssens"><em class="sn">a</em> <strong>:</strong> to exercise restraining or directing influence over <strong>:</strong> <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/regulate">regulate</a> </span><span class="ssens"><span class="break"></span><em class="sn">b</em> <strong>:</strong> to have power over <strong>:</strong> <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/rule">rule</a> </span><span class="ssens"><span class="break"></span><em class="sn">c</em> <strong>:</strong> to reduce the incidence or severity of especially to innocuous levels <span class="vi"><<em>control</em> an insect population></span> <span class="vi"><<em>control</em> a disease></span> </span></div>
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<span class="ssens">Sometime a few years ago, The princess of Pop Janet Jackson broke away from her controlling father and family and performed what would be the anthem for all 17 and newly 18 year olds! Amidst the keyboard guitar solos and the cabbage patch you had a song about proclaiming your freedom and taking control of your life. In my humble opinion Janet had it right! Join with me as I sing "Controoolll, to get what I want, Controooll, I've got to have a lot, Cooonntrrooll NOW I'M ALL GROWN UP! Whew" Ok I'll just put the link up. </span></div>
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<span class="ssens"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LH8xbDGv7oY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LH8xbDGv7oY</a></span></div>
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This has been a really hard post to write for me. I'm not really sure why but I'm absolutely tired of learning the lesson so I'm just going to write whats on my minds heart and see what happens. I am going to relinquish control. </div>
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The last few weeks I have become a mantra repeating mother telling my daughter "You can only control what you can control, and what can you control?" She had a lot of anxiety about school, some family issues and a new apartment we moved to. I spent most of our time together listening to her issues and reminding her of how little control she had over the situations. And then. </div>
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Last week, my daughter started middle school and she was having a hard time making friends. My first instincts were to go fix it. To call the counselor to send a letter to a teacher or something to help the situation. I would give it a little bit of time, and then I would do what a mother does, and fix whatever is broken. On the 3rd day of school, tiredness and anxiety is kicking in hard core, and my daughter starts to cry on our walk to school. She's worried about so much and there is so little we can do.</div>
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After a few encouraging words and a hug I left her at school and proceeded my walk to work. I was 3 feet from the school when I started crying. Not just a few tears but hard ugly shaking sobs of despair, anger and fear. I was sad my baby was hurting I was worried that it wouldn't get better and I was pissed off that my phone didn't have the counselor's number so I could call him on my walk to tell him to do his job and help my baby. I was a mess but I walked my daily mile to work, head down crying and praying to God to send my baby a friend or something to last her until I could get up there to fix everything. </div>
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When I got to work my coworker and I were talking about our mornings and I shared my worries. She looked at me and said "Cynethia, you can't control it, you have to let it go" I would love to be able to tell you that I let it go then, that I decided to relinquish my control but I didn't. Instead I secretly drafted a plan of attack for the just in case I'm needed situation. I decided not to go up there to fix it but to get my ducks in a row just in case. At dinner that night I was informed that she made a friend, somebody sat with her a lunch. She was content. How ever, this was still not enough for me. I wanted a lifelong friendship for her I had high hopes for her relationships. She spoke very little about these friends but she didn't hate the apartment or school as much. So my plan was to wait it out. </div>
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Then today, as I dropped her off at school, there stood 2 little girls, waiting for my daughter. They were excited to see her and they didn't even notice me standing there. They saw each other and started talking instantly. My Daughter left me standing there no bye mom, no hug nothing... she just left me to go with her friends. </div>
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I'm not sure what the outcome will be I'm not sure if they will be friends I approve of. I don't even know what type of parents they have. But I do know when and if I relinquish control to the one that's already in control it makes it easier for me to cope. I know that I can't control what I can't control. I used this tactic last weekend when I dropped my brother off to college in Maine (Outside of the 4 hour radius rule I given each of my siblings) I used this when Toni brought home a puppy that I SPECIFICALLY told her NOT to buy. And even with this blog, wanting my posts to be great and interesting, trying to control the events in my life to bring about a more thought provoking post. I have decided to relinquish control. Whatever may be will be. I can only control what I can control. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-33264291910278475262012-08-23T09:47:00.000-07:002012-08-23T09:47:16.426-07:00Leaps and Bounds To leap: to spring free from or as if from the ground <strong>:</strong> 2 <span class="ssens"><em class="sn">a</em> <strong>:</strong> to pass abruptly from one state or topic to another </span><span class="ssens"><span class="break"></span><em class="sn">b</em> <strong>:</strong> to act precipitately <span class="vi"><<em>leap</em><em>ed</em> at the chance></span> </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">One of the differences I noticed with the word leap and words jump or bounce was that a leap has a destination. You can Jump and Bounce aimlessly, but if you leap somewhere it's almost like your trying to get somewhere or you have an intended outcome in mind. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">When I started this journey of self discovery I realized early on I had no idea which way I should leap. I wanted to make the right choice early on, in hopes the outcome would be easier to obtain. I think this thought is a common hangup for a lot people, we get so worried with which way we should go first we forget to take the trip. After some thought, I decided I would tackle either the most feared leap OR the leap that I believed would get me the farthest in the long run. Marriage is my most feared leap for various reason (long story- I'm yet praying). I feel like going to school would be the most beneficial but also the hardest for me. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">For years I have wanted to go to school but I have strategically placed grand supposedly insurmountable fears in my way. My mind would ponder questions that I had no answers for; What do you do with dreams fulfilled? What do I do if it's not as fun as I think it will be? What do I do IF it is too hard? Isn't it easier to never try than deal with the agony of defeat? What if I'm more like the Hillman dropout Denise and not the Princeton Graduate Sondra? So for years I sat around pondering questions over and over again, never risking the chance of answering them or taking a minute to discuss them. I would just hold on to them scared that even acknowledgement of the questions would bring me closer to a end I was unsure of. I notice that most of my angst would come in August and September whenever I would take my daughter school shopping. It also got worst as 2 of my siblings proudly started their academic journey.</span><br />
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<span class="ssens"> I would find myself in Target walking and daydreaming of days at the Pit with Mr. Gains, Kim, Dwayne, Ron, Freddy and Whitley, even hanging with Lena and Charmaine in my later years. How I would be close friends with Lena and we would talk about her life and she would grow and change from a roughneck Piccolo/Tupac lover to a Dorian/Church-boy virginity stealer to finally finding true love and marrying Will Smith a homeboy we meet in Philly one weekend on vacation. I should have went to college! Whenever I would watch reruns of A Different World I would berate myself for never applying to Spellman like I intended 10+ years ago. </span><span class="ssens">The journey of a thousand steps starts with one so, I decided to apply. No, not to Spellman because that plus my dreams of being the first Black Female President are long over, but to quench the yearning in my heart I needed to consider Culinary Arts School. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">Obviously, my first step was to find the school, I decided to use the magic problem solver, we all know as Google and find out if there were any viable options in the area. Much to my surprise, I live 10 mins away from a Top Culinary Arts School. After some research I discovered they are a great fit for me and great option for my intended career plan. Classes don't start for a few months so I even have enough time to apply for financial aid and admissions. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">I know what your thinking! All signs that I should LEAP, but to be honest, I've been here before. I am very comfortable in the "Got my information but no commitment needed" place. This is the place where you have all the information you need to make the change, but you still falter with the follow-thru. You want to go but you don't actually go because you want to make sure the green light you see is not really darkish bluish yellow so you wait for fear you may cause an accident. </span><span class="ssens">I have received many information packets from local universities and I've read more college applications than a promising 12th grader. I can very well, stop my journey now with the information and fill somewhat accomplished with at least finding out some options, but this time I feel different. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">This time I want to leap! I need a place to land so this time decided to follow thru. I actually spoke to the admissions office. I told them my goals and got the steps for admissions. The first problem to tackle would be money. I need to fill out a FASFA application and this can be time consuming, decisions decisions, I decided to spend my next few minutes on me. I would pull my taxes and complete the forms and submit the information. However, I couldn't find my taxes from last year. Not a big deal, I let the ball of productivity keep rolling and I called yes CALLED the IRS to get a copy of my transcript. I sat a nervous ball of energy waiting on hold for at least 32 mins, finally I spoke to a lovely tax agent that basically said, "We've been looking for you Ms. Williams I'm so glad you called, your taxes were never processed from last year so we were about to put a levy on you for the amount you owed in 2007 and 2009" </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">What da what and take da what? YOUR GLAD I CALLED!? Don't ya'll have my number? Ya'll couldn't send me a e-mail or text or something? a Letter? Nothing!? You were just waiting on me to call in? Now, I don't want rumors to start that I'm bout that cursing at the IRS life, cause I'm not. Those were all secret thoughts, when i truly said "Oh, Really? Ok, um, do you need my address?" I realize that may make me seem like a punk, but there are very few people that have enough guts to yell at the IRS, and I'm proud to say I'm not one of them. I might be willing to sell bibles in China or fight a thief if they tried to steal my purse, I may even chase a kid down if he bumps into me on the sidewalk but there is no way I'm going to yell at a tax agent. Nope not gonna do it! After a few minutes on hold and a few questions from the very nice Tax Agent, my account was placed on hold and I was given a date to look for my information so I can submit my taxes. </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">Typically this would be where I respectfully backed down off the ledge and traded my leaping shoes for standing and helping others leap shoes. This struggle would be what I used as my get out of commitment sign. However, like I said earlier this time something will be different. A little discouraged I sat and I recalled something I read and was reminded that whenever God calls you to do something, it's the enemy's job to try and stop you. We shouldn't take it personally it's what he's supposed to do, kill, steal & destroy. But check this out, the enemy can try but he can't succeed without approval. He can only do what he has permission to do, and if God has called you to do something - your supposed to do it. Therefore, if you quit a battle you've already won, you forfeit. That would be a Win you treat as an Loss, not to mention that's just a waste of time. You don't have to fight battles you've already won, you won! You show up and get your trophy/prize/spoils of war/etc. The good news is, there is no statue of limitations to pick up your prizes. If there was a battle you won but ignorantly forfeited, don't worry go get your stuff. You can even start the celebration now because basically you've won you just never acted like it. SO all that to say, my plan with my new found IRS/Financial Aid/Admission issues will be thus: </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">I'll make the food you bring drinks and Tommy will bring the paper plates, My graduation Party will be roughly sometime in April 2013 or so. Save the date! </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">And Lastly, Does anyone know a good accountant? </span><br />
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<span class="ssens">Love you!</span><br />
<span class="ssens">Cynethia </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-62009391012013911822012-08-21T09:20:00.000-07:002012-08-21T09:20:18.189-07:00Taking the LeapLast night as I went through my typical night-time routine, I got mad at Toni for something she probably didn't do, grabbed my nook from in front of the TV, went to the bedroom and turned on my DVD player and began to watch my latest HIMYM DVD I received from Netflix. I got comfy in bed as I waited patiently for sleep to overtake my mind and introduce me to non eventful night of slumber. <br />
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Instead, I watched episode after episode of what has become my new favorite show. I am currently on the last disk of the 4th season. The last episode of this season is called Taking the Leap. It is centered around a few characters taking some proverbial leaps in their life, Barney - Relationships; Ted - career; Marshall - an actually Leap (lol very funny stuff). <br />
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At the end of the episode I was motivated to take a Leap - any leap, I wanted to Jump off my bed, or start a ministry (even though I'm currently in charge of at least 2) I wanted to get up and bake a cake from scratch or start school or find a new job I was motivated! WHICH is probably mostly why I'm even bothering to write a post today (see! it's all about the leap!) <br />
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SO as I was debating jumping off my bed into my closet mimicking a 30 year old version of Gabby Douglas I was reminded and sadden by the years I wasted waiting for some sign or some Green light to live my life. I've wasted so much time waiting to go that I forgot to just go. Waiting to live your life is a waste of life, time and energy. We want our kids to have healthy self images, to be kind and caring and happy and fulfilled but we wait to live our lives until they start to lives their own, we wait and sit and take care of so many people and put things not only in front of ourselves but God in order to please others and not God. Listen, God wants us to be fulfilled to be happy, to lean on him to fix all the issues we have and to live burden free. Our chief concern should be focused on the how to Love each other more, and how to make sure the ones who feel unloved know the truth is they really are. <br />
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But I digress, my point is, (please excuse the language) I'm bout to live. I'm going to travel, my daughter and I will leave the country, We will taste other food, we will meet other people, we will work not to pay bills but to give to God, and others. We will experience life and find our passions. I will go to school, I will try all the things I think I like untill I find the things I love. I will wake up early (This is going to be the hardest) and spend Time with my Lord, I will commune with him and Pray out loud. I will lose all cool when He blesses me. I will speak up. I will laugh more. I will remove all the things that weigh me down and I will run to the mark and fulfill the destiny I AM purposed for. I am excited and I will no longer have more excuse than progress. Today my friends is the day it will all change, today I will make my leap. <br />
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Now, which way do I leap? Because I honestly have no idea! lol Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-66537447012238574052011-04-04T09:10:00.000-07:002011-04-05T12:03:46.723-07:00PIZZA! PIZZA!!Growing up with a big family and a mom that couldn't cook, one of my favorites nights was Fridays when my mom would order pizza. That was the 90's friendly delivery men, 30 min waits time or else, that was the life. Nowadays, unless you use a coupon or call on a special night which is almost NEVER Friday a large pizza with 3 topping (Pepperoni, Bacon, Spinach) can cost you $15. Which for some doesn't seem like much but $45 for 3 pizza's can be a bit much to pay for a stress free Friday. So my Broke Girls words of advice : Make your own pizza. Pizza Dough can cost from $.99 -$1.99 depending on what store you visit. Pizza sauce will cost you $2.99, add the Pepperoni, bacon, spinach, and cheese you have a start up cost of maybe $15. But the great thing here is you can make up to 4 pizza's. If your the baking type, feel free to make your own pizza dough. The other added bonus - you don't have to do anything!!! Let the kids do it themselves, cut the dough into mini pizza's, sit down and watch them bake, pull out leftovers from the fridge, mushrooms, peppers, sausage, chicken, tomatoes, even hot dogs for the fearless the list is endless! Trust me! this is a sleepover saver! Have fun and send me some pictures of your creations! <br />
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For some more inspiration visit these blogs: <br />
<a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/homemade_pizza/">http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/homemade_pizza/</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.recipepizza.com/">http://www.recipepizza.com/</a><br />
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<a href="http://kelleychisholm.wordpress.com/2011/04/04/homemade-pizza-yum/">http://kelleychisholm.wordpress.com/2011/04/04/homemade-pizza-yum/</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-447714126006834176.post-21268235364762171162010-09-21T14:00:00.000-07:002010-09-21T14:00:20.057-07:00COMING SOON!!I Plan to use this blog to help all poor foodies out there. People like me who love food but live on a budget. <br />
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I will let you know the Hot Spots, The Economical Savy Grocery Store Buys and OF COURSE FREE stuff!<br />
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The requirements are simple. <br />
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Taste Good<br />
Low Cost. <br />
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Send in any suggestions or ideas. <br />
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Thanks! <br />
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BrokeGirl!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10092175003855121188noreply@blogger.com1