Day 60 – Electronic Friendship

My poor neglected blog.¬† It’s been three days since I was here last; so sad. ūüė• Have I even been missed? I highly doubt it but I can honestly say that I have missed reading many of y’alls posts. It’s funny how people connect and I don’t mean just by following, friending, liking, or commenting. I mean really connect, as in become electronic friends.¬†¬† In reality I know only a handful of you in real life but many of you I feel connected to, like a strange sort of cyber-friendship I guess.¬† Although I’ve never met 95% of you I don’t feel that it’s weird in any way to feel a connection beyond “following.”¬† It’s how we do things in 2015.¬†¬† We electronically share our lives everytime we Facebook, Tweet, blog, Instagram, chat, Skype, text and email..or whatever social media you use. Nowadays we even find love online. I am all for social media, man. It’s rocks!¬† No inconvenience and you have a choice to run your thoughts through a filter before responding to someone.¬†

I will admit that I don’t even like talking on the phone –¬† when my cell rings, 9 times out of 10 I’ll let it go to voice mail, then I’ll text the caller back.¬†¬† Phone conversation went out with the beeper back in 1994.¬† Haha¬† You know I’m right and you know your guilty too.

I do love seeing my buddies though …nothing can beat a cold beer or hot coffee and a good conversation but that’s not something that I want everyday. I like my space plus I’ve already seen from social media everything my pals have been up to… sooo there’s no need to call or hang out too often.¬† I like it that way!! I feel that when my friends and I do come together it’s always fun because we’ve been away for enough time to have missed each other.¬†
People who want call and talk for hours or have to see each other all the time get on my last nerve.¬† Ain’t nobody got time for that!!¬† I’m like, just send me a text.¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† Hell, my New Year’s resolution was to write everyday but …well… it’s damn hard to write every single day when you’re a momma, a Nana, a wife and full-time student.¬† I don’t want to make my blog a daily journal (That’s what Facebook, Twitter and Instagram are for haha)¬†¬†

With that I’ll go. It’s getting late and my day starts early tomorrow.  

G’night yall.

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Day 36 – Friends

I love my friends, I really do.  I have only a handful of close ones but all of those few, all are dear to heart.  Each one of my friends are successful men and women, with good morals and witty senses of humor. I have no “bad” friends; not too many people can say that.  All of my pals enjoy a drink or three and good conversation.  My friends are scattered across the world; some I see next to never but nonetheless, we remain close through calls, texts, emails and social media.  When we do manage to cross paths, our time together is as though we’ve never been apart.  That’s real, that’s love. Real love.

Tonight was dinner, beer and Keno with Chad.  Chad might be my oldest friend. I’ve known him since I was somewhere around 12 years old (I’m 41 this year) I admire Chad, I always have. He’s one of the most laid back, intelligent people I know.  When we were kids he hooked a headlight up on the front of his bicycle with some wire, batteries and a small light. That’s a smart kid!  Chad is one of the funniest people I know.  I’ve never been around him and ceased to giggle. I love him.

I have another friend named Kelly.. we met in 1993 when I bought a house from her in- that was haunted.😨 Bitch didn’t admit it until like last year hahaha and OMG have we had the laughs.  Big ole belly laughs so deep they hit the bladder.  No joke. Our thing is margaritas and laughing – it’s what we do.  Kelly has to be one of the most patient and forgiving people I know.  She has taught me so much about the true meaning behind the word, “friend,” and I love her.

Courtney. Omg is she silly.  One time Courtney and I decided to suck the jelly out of the Krispy Kreme’s and replace it with mustard. Haha Our co-worker, Gosa wasn’t too happy about it.  There’s not much Courtney and I didn’t do.   On Wednesdays during lunch we’d drove aroud listening to the worst God awful sing, “Harper Valley PTA,” Billy Rae Cyrus version while flashing passerby’ers.  We called it, “W.O.W.” (whip’em out Wednesday)  I’ll never forget one day her dad, who worked with us part time, asked us what WOW meant….. 😂😂😂   so funny.
Courtney has been my go-to for many years. I had a stalker once who found me at work and wouldn’t leave me alone.  Courtney went outside and cussed him out and threatened to shoot him if he came back. Hahaha She would have too. I love her.

I have another bestie named Brian. I met B on a blood mobile while doing a blood drive for work. I’d never donated blood before and while I waited I obviously looked like a newbie. I was a nervous wreck. B sensed it and told me not to worry- that the “square needles with barbs on the sides” didn’t hurt too much.  I almost passed out- fucker. B is the first person I ever got pulled over with .. the first person I ate hot wings with. One never forgets their first. Haha I love him.

Gosa is my little Mexican friend. He has the most beautiful eyes and man, he sure likes to debate. If I said the sky was blue he’d argue is was green and almost convince you it was!! He’s so funny too. Gosa has a brilliant mind, writes beautifully. I use to love to read his blogs.  He’s the one we fed mustard donuts to oh..and a baby octopus that he chewed up and hacked out on my desk like 5 times.  I was thbme worst voss everrrr….. hahahaha.  Gosa’s heart took him to college to become a special education teacher. I bet he’s the best teacher ever. I love him.

DJ. I met Dj on accident really. I was waking through a dark and seemingly empty church at night when I heard someone singing in the sactuary. I cracked the doors to peek inside and there he was.. a young mixed boy playing a keyboard, eyes closed and pouring his heart out to Jesus.  Lord knows that in that church, Jesus was the only true friend he had.  Dj’s voice was like silk… something you just wanted to curl up in and dream; still is. I loved Dj the first moment we sat down and spoke. His heart was pure and his intentions always golden.  Many times my heart broke for him while he was being pushed away by those who claimed to care.  It took him awhile but he finally figured out who he was and I couldn’t be more proud to call him my friend. My love for Dj has never and will never falter.

I have friends who I know I could call, anytime day or night and they’d be there. I cant write about them all tonight but they know who they are. I know without a doubt they love me just as much as I love them and I suppose that makes me lucky, very lucky.

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-Willow

Day 28 – “Beyond Scared Straight”

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Have you ever seen this show?¬† You see what happens is this: a county jail takes in about 10 “at risk” kids as part of a court ordered program to, well, scare them straight.¬† Oh my God kids are bad these days.
These kids walk into the jail with smiles on their faces and wear their offenses proudly, as if they had on shiny gold badges.¬†¬† THEY’RE BABIES!!! I’m talking 11 to 17 years old.¬†
Sometimes when I’m watching the show I laugh.. I mean co’mon now, an 11 year old ‘gang banger’? Oooooh scary!! 👇👈👉👋‚ėĚ👌‚úä‚úĆ(that’s me throwing up gang signs on my android like an 11 year old) 😂

Ok look.. this little girl was 11; tell me who the hell is going to be afraid of an 11 year old little girl who’s wearing a pink, sparkly Justice tshirt and light-up sneakers?¬† I know I wish she’d try to intimidate me one time ’cause when she did, it would be her last damn time. hahaha She better hope those light-up shoes make her butt fly like Buzz Lightyear.
mmm mmm mmm..  

These Oklahoma kids were those children of the corn Stephen King warned us about!!! No joke.
These kids had violations for petty theft, drugs, fighting, arson, grand theft auto, fraud, forgery, assault on a parent. . .
Whoa. Stop. Back-up. 

I know kids do some stupid stuff, I get it, I’ve been there, done that and own the tshirt(s) but you can bet your life that no matter what ignorance my kids have done or will do, they will NEVER stand up in my face and disrespect me.
Nope. Momma don’t play those games.

Let me just say, I don’t have perfect kids…any one of my kids could at any moment decide to disconnect from common sense. For example, I had one steal from a store when she had more than enough money on her person and in the bank and she had a damn job. When the officer called me (and after my adrenaline from getting a call from an officer had disapated) I begged him to take my child to juvie to wait for her court date.  This momma is a good momma because this momma was like.. sit in jail you little shithead and while you’re in there, Imma cut off your cell phone and take your keys away.
….but the officer said juvie was full and I had to come pick her up.  WTH? What did he mean “full”?  And what did he mean I had to come pick her up?? 
Omg I had to drive from a birthday party almost 2 hours away from that child .. do u know how much pissed offness a momma can conjure up in 2 hours time?
Her punishment was a fine of $500 that I refused to pay and she had to make a few trips back up north to a check in with a court designated worker..kind of like a parole officer.   Lemme tell ya,  because I was like, “rot in jail,” that kid of mine has turned out to be a productive member of society.   She’s now a married momma herself. She works as an SRNA and will be a respiratory therapist upon graduation. (very soon btw) 

My son, he decided at the age of 20 to obtain a fake ID and get drunk at Hooters.   He tried to be smart after and sit on the curb with his buddy to sober up but.. his buddy decided he was ok to drive and tried to take the keys from my son. They started fighting and well, by doing do they drew attention on themselves and a cop came by.  My son was honest on why they were fighting. The cop ran their ID’s.. yep, the fake ones.  When he couldn’t bring up any info on the boys he questioned them.  My son was like.. “Which ID  did u run sir?”
Busted.
The cop was nice but took them to jail to dry out. (Which I’m thankful for) They were also fined and that’s how I found out about the incident.  Here’s that telephone call:
Me: Hey Tate, missed you at church this morning.
Tate: yeah I’m sorry momma, I was out late- had to bail a friend of mine outta jail.
Me: oh. Ok. Anyone I know?
Tate: Uh uh.  Hey mom, if someone had to pay a fine where would they go to pay it?
Me: (proceeds to tell him)
Tate: Ok, mom.. it was me. I was in jail. Blah blah blah…
Good grief.

Thankfully Tate’s few hours in jail were enough to keep him out of trouble. He too a productive member of society, married, owns his own flooring business and has a baby on the way.
(Oh I can’t wait for paybacks) haha

In today’s world you just can’t take parenting lightly.  I’m really glad my two oldest had jail experiences.

3 to go…

ugh.😨

 

-Willow

Day 25 – The day I met Mary Jo Juana

I met Mary Jo when I was a kid.¬† I guess I was about 13.¬† She was a friend of a friend and she also knew a lot of the people in my family, that being said, I thought I could trust her.¬† When we were growing up, Mary Jo liked to come over and hang out with my friends and I pretty often, but I didn’t care for her company all that much.¬† She kind of left a bad taste in my mouth.¬† youknowutiment?¬† Mary Jo and I ended up going our separate ways.

Several years later I found out that Mary Jo was living next door to me.¬† It happened by accident actually.¬† I was next door with Mable and Archy (trust me, I wish I made those names up for real) just hanging out talking like neighbors do sometimes when out of nowhere Archy introduces me to his friend, Mary.¬† I was like.. “OH MY GOD!!¬† WE KNOW EACH OTHER!!!”¬† What a small world it is sometimes, right??!?¬†¬† Anyway, Mable, Archy, Mary Jo and I kind of hung out for a little while. It was nice to see Mary Jo- she took my divorce off of my mind.¬† Everything seemed to be going just fine until Mary Jo decided to be a bitch.¬† She started acting all weird and then out of nowhere, she punched me in the face. I couldn’t see!!!¬† I kind of started freaking out so I went home.¬† When I got home I was shaking and my vision hadn’t returned. Remembering that I had a sink full of water in the kitchen, I leaned over and started splashing my face, but it didn’t help. ¬† All I know is that my (ex)mother-in-law and her sister came to get me and take me to the hospital.¬† They kept asking me what happened and no way in hell was I going to tell them about Mary Jo.¬† I told them I took a pill for a headache and I must of had a reaction to it.

Once at the hospital a medic named Jerry took my blood to run labs as a precaution, and asked me a lot of questions.¬† I kept telling him the same story I had told my (ex)mother-in-law… he wasn’t buying it.¬† He started getting loud and rude with me, and I told him that I would remember his name and when I felt better, I’d find his ass.¬† He laughed- which pissed me off even more.¬† Jerry kept saying that he was concerned about the dried blood in my hair. I kept telling him that nothing happened to my head.. I hadn’t hit it…. that I knew of anyway.¬†¬† Jerry finally says to me, “Brandy, you have to tell me what you did or I can’t help you. I swear it will stay between us.”¬† So I started crying like a baby and I told Jerry about bumping into Mary Jo again after many years of not seeing her, and about my divorce, and how Mary Jo punched me and I couldn’t see and that’s all I knew.¬† And I didn’t want my husband to find out about this or he’d try to take my kids away…

Jerry’s harsh tone softened.¬† He asked me how often I saw Mary Jo and I told him again, I hadn’t seen her since I was like 13. I told him we weren’t really friends but when I saw her, I thought it would be nice to catch up for the night, just to forget about all that was going wrong in my life.¬†¬† Jerry said he understood and wished me well and made me promise I’d not hang out with Mary Jo again because she was a bad friend to have.¬† I promised, and that was that. After several hours I got to go home.

The next morning when I woke up, I ran a shower.¬† While I was waiting for the water to get hot I looked at myself in the mirror. Blood?¬† Where did the blood come from?¬†¬† I kept feeling my scalp but there weren’t any cuts or bumps anywhere. I was so confused and had no idea why I had dried blood all around my face in my hairline.

After the shower I felt better.¬† I started piddling about the house, picking up and putting away.¬† The kids would be home from their dads soon so I wanted to have everything done.¬† I noticed that the kitchen sink still had the dinner dishes soaking from the night before. Spaghetti.¬† Yuk.¬†¬† As the water went out I noticed a thick red-orange grease line left behind.¬† I fell out laughing.¬† Remember, I had splashed water on my face trying to snap myself out of Mary Jo’s blow… it wasn’t dried blood in my hairline, it was nasty ass spaghetti dish water.¬† hahahahahahaha

Oh and by the way, I did remember Jerry’s name.¬† A few days later I got the nerve up to call the ambulance company I saw on his uniform.¬† When he came to the phone, I thanked him for taking care of me- and I wanted him to know that I did in fact remember his name and I assured him that Mary Jo and I were no longer pals. He laughed. Before we hung up Jerry told me that he had received my lab results and they were clear- there should be no further issues for me.¬† Then he told me to take care and we hung up.

Funny how sometimes a complete stranger treats you better than someone you once called, “friend.”

Mary Jo

Day 22 – Bean Juice

As I sit here, not doing homework, or house work, or wood work.. or any other kind of work I ponder the cup of coffee next to me.¬† Its good but it’s not Nana’s house good.¬† Knowutimean?¬†¬† I don’t know how my Nana does it- but every single time, she makes the perfect cup of coffee.¬† Seriously she does. Her coffee is so rich and delicious that I went out and bought the same kind of coffee.¬† My coffee didn’t taste like hers, so I then purchased the same coffee maker as my Nana’s. Still, my coffee couldn’t touch hers.¬† The next time I was over I told her that I couldn’t get my coffee to taste like her coffee and I didn’t know why.¬† So, my Nana gave me the same kind of scoop as she uses thinking maybe it was a measuring error.¬† I was so excited that when I returned home I immediately made a pot of coffee.¬† Nope. Not even close.¬† I mean, it was good, but not Nana’s house good.¬† Some time went by before I saw my Nana again.¬† At that time she lived an hour away, two cities over.¬† But the next time I saw her, we talked again about my failed attempt at her coffee. My Nana is sweet- her way to fix this problem was to have me make a pot at her house.¬† She coached me with every step.. the end result was rich and delicious Nana coffee.¬† My Nana said that perhaps it was the difference in our water.¬† I lived in a town that had very hard water and she didn’t. So, she suggest I buy a gallon of distilled and give it a go. That sound like a fine idea, but I secretly just hoped that I had caught her magic touch as if it were contagious.

The very next morning I got up, scooped my beans, poured in my water – everything was perfect; no way I could fail.

I was wrong and I gave up.

When I saw my Nana next, she asked about the coffee and I told her I gave up because nothing I did could duplicate her coffee.¬† I told her how I bought the same coffee, the same pot, used her scoop and bottled water…. and nothing worked. She laughs and says, “Well Suga (that’s what she calls me) it must be the cups!!”

I laughed too, but inside I knew why I couldn’t duplicate her coffee; I wasn’t her.¬†¬† There’s just something magical about a Nana.¬† I know this because I’m a Nana now.¬† I have a beautiful 18 month old granddaughter (Rae) and a grandson still in utero (Idris) He kinda looks like an alien right now. LOL¬† I hope one day that one of those two will try as hard as I did to duplicate my coffee same as I did my Nana’s.

Nana’s house coffee isn’t the only coffee I love.¬† I love the coffee houses around here too.¬† They each taste different.¬† Not because of different bean or flavors but because of atmosphere and because of whose company I’m sharing in.¬† Courtney and I drink coffee that taste nutty and mild.¬† Gosa and I drink coffee that’s serious and bold.¬† My husband and I drink coffee that’s warm and relaxing.¬† Make sense?

My dad calls coffee, “Bean Juice.”¬† hahaha¬† He also calls eggs, “hen fruit.”¬† He’s a nut but hes a sweet nut.¬†¬† Growing up my Nana’s coffee maker sat on her gas stove.¬† It was like some sort of glass percolator.¬† One night I was ay my dads for dinner and he was using that coffee maker to heat water for iced tea.¬† We had ourselves a whole conversation about that coffee maker.

That Christmas I unwrapped one. I cried.  He said he had walked into a thrift store with his wife and there it was, sitting on a top shelf, dusty.  He bought that pot for $7, and I can honestly say that I have never received a more perfect gift.
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