Ebony & Ivory

Old Business:

As of today, 11 people have extended the "VINE" to our dear friend (even though we don't know her!) Ann who's trying to lose weight. My goal was 10 people, and you guys have exceeded our target. So, that's one CONTRIBUTION down and another to go. But please, feel free to continue to support Ann at
http://amidestinedforever.blogspot.com/--I just left her another message today!

The other "VINE" we're working on is for the Atlanta Bilingual Child Development Center, also known as "ABCD Center." I just placed my donation, and I am positive that at least one other person has, too. I'm thinking maybe there are more, but only one person has confirmed. If you have made a donation, please let me know. I'm trying to keep count in hopes that we'll reach our goal. I'm looking for 7 of us who'll donate to the ABCD Center this week. So we have 2 donations down and 5 more to go. Here's the link if you need more information on the center: www.ABCDcenter.org. And if you'd like to make a donation, click here: http://www.abcdcenter.org/donate.html.

More Old Business:

There are a couple of you who haven't confirmed your subscriptions. To do so, you must click on the link in the email that was sent to you.

New Business:

Mrs. Coretta Scott King, may your legacy live on and your hardwork not be lost on the younger generation's ignorance and apathy.

Here, Coretta is pictured with Rabbi Marc Schneier. I chose this picture for personal reasons. Isom's best buddy, Zohar, is Jewish just like Rabbi Schenier. For Matin Luther King's birthday, Zoey's (as he is affectionately called) mom and dad sent me this touching letter:

Dear Nikki,

We, in past years, have merely been grateful for the the general good brought about in our country by Martin Luther King. This year, you have gotten us thinking about the more personal benefits reaped by King's work. Without this notable American's contributions, we probably wouldn't have the opportunity to be friends with you and Isom.

Having lived abroad for a fair length of time, we witnessed racism and antisemitism alive and well in Europe, in societies that are often held up as more liberal and enlightened than our own. As much as there is left to accomplish, and as many problems that there still are left to solve, the existence of this day as a national holiday demonstrates that we as a nation know what's right and that we have it as a common goal: that all Americans are entitled to equal rights. As Jews and advocates of womens' rights, we are grateful for the attention given to someone who gave his life to the cause of forwarding equality for all Americans.

Happy Martin Luther King Day.

Deb and Wayne

And this one line really stuck out to me:

Without this notable American's contributions, we probably wouldn't have the opportunity to be friends with you and Isom.

Thus, I am so grateful for the contributions made by Coretta and Martin (behind every great man is an even greater woman--in my opinion). Without them, my life wouldn't be as culturally rich and diverse as it is; and many of the opportunities I've had, wouldn't have been options.

I am so tickled when I watch Isom in class with his white classmates. I'm amazed at the freedom Zoey takes in pulling on Isom's nappy afro, and how Isom grabs Zoey's white hand. Just today, Isom was upset with Zoey for pulling his hair. But hey, at least no one was "hung" or "whipped" over it. It was just two little American boys, playing together. Jewish and Black. Strange. But oh-so right. We tried to get them to make-up, but, it's hard to get 8-month-olds to do anything they don't want to do!

So, I'll miss Coretta. And I hope that her inspiration will lead us to continue her legacy.

**Nikki stands up, lifts her hands to the sky, and says, "Thank you Coretta and Martin. Thank you, thank you, thank you."** (I really did this, feel free to jump up and do it, too!)

And don't forget that tomorrow starts Black History Month. Yea! Y'all go and enjoy that WHOLE 28 days! So what if it's the shortest month of the year? There ain't no conspiracy! Heck, get crazy and celebrate every month, dang-it! As a matter of fact, you're black 365 days out of the year; so why not get radical and do it big everyday! Head out into the streets and shout it loud: "I'm black! I'm black! I'm black!"

**An onlooker of another color passes by as you're shouting in jubilation, and he thinks to himself, "Well, isn't that obvious?"**

Ha Ha!!!

I'm going y'all. Have a good one.

www.ABCDcenter.org

I have a main agenda today. But before I get to it, I'd like to run something by you.

You're driving down the street, when all of a sudden, you have to stop and wait for a car in front of you. The driver is trying to pull into a parking spot. You're in a rush, and you should have been back to work 15 minutes ago. You wait impatiently, and then beep your horn and give a mean gesture as you pass by the other driver.

**sigh**

I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of the impatience and rudeness of US ALL. What's the problem? Where are we rushing to? And why do we have to be so damn mean and rude?

The driver of that other car is someone's mother, father, brother, daughter, best friend, husband, grandmother...

It's funny how the "driver" mentality is. People turn on different parts of their personalities when they're driving. All of a sudden they're BIGGER and badder than they really are. Cussing and going off and stuff. Knowing dang well they wouldn't have the nerve to do that to the person's face.

CHILL the hell out! You're gonna get to where ya' going. And if you keep riding up on my butt, it's a possibility that neither one of us will make it.

I've got my mother and my baby in the car--precious cargo. And not only that, I'm driving safely to look out for your wellbeing and mine.

SO SLOW THE HELL DOWN and GET OFF OF MY ASS.

Life is too short. And kindness is hard to find.

Or if you're truly gangsta', get out of the car and beat my ass. If you ain't gonna put up, then shut up.

I have this new thing I do to myself. Whenever I'm angered over something silly, I recite "Temper, Temper" over and over again. I tell myself to calm that unnecessary noise down. Just shut up! If I'm not gonna do something about the problem, why waste time and oxygen rambling on and on.

Like right now, I'm just gonna move on and shut up about it.

See how easy that is?

Main agenda:

I have a dear friend by the name of Erica. She was a classmate of mine when I studied abroad in Costa Rica. This girl is amazing when it comes to languages, and I've always been jealous of her fluency in Spanish. Anywho, sometime ago, she told me about an idea she was pursuing. She lives in the Atlanta and wanted to open a bilingual school for children ages 6 weeks to 5-years-old. I thought it was a novel idea, being that younger children's brains are like sponges.

Well, her dream is coming true. She recently sent me an email about the program. The website is www.ABCDcenter.org. Here's a little blurb from the website:

Atlanta Bilingual Child Development Center is a 501(C)3 non-profit preschool for children between the ages of six weeks and five years old. Our dual-language curriculum teaches both English and Spanish side-by-side helping our students achieve age-appropriate, balanced bilingualism. Our diverse student body nurtures and celebrates a multi-cultural environment, preparing our children for Elementary School and the world! For more information please email Erica Pereira at Erica@ABCDcenter.org.

The program is in need of donations, and you can visit the website to learn more, or go to http://www.abcdcenter.org/donate.html to make a donation.

Trust me, if I were living in the Atlanta area, this is where I'd be sending Isom. I love the Spanish language, and I know first-hand that in the coming years our children will probably need to know Spanish about as well as they know English (and that's whether you like it or not, so get over it! LOL).

Please make a donation. My friend says it doesn't matter how small. Trust me, your $1 could make all the difference. We always talk about what folks in the community aren't doing. Well here is a sister who's doing something and she needs some support.

It's "VINE" Time. MAKE A CONTRIBUTION.

As broke as I am, I will be going to the website tomorrow and making my donation. I am urging all of you to do what you can and to pass the word around. I am also looking for at least 6 of you who will go to the website and make a donation this week. Along with my donation, that will make 7. And isn't 7 such a divine number?

Once again, here is the website link: www.ABCDcenter.org,

AND,

here is the donation link: http://www.abcdcenter.org/donate.html.

If you do make a donation, please let me know so that I can keep count. I want to see if the "VINE" works this time. Last time I asked for 10 folks, and as of today, 8 people have helped the lady trying to lose weight--and that number ain't bad.

Once again, please don't be afraid to donate small amounts. Give what you can.

Erica, keep up the good work. So many of us are about talk, but you are about actions. We need more driven people like you. You took a chance on your dream, and the universe if giving you the tools to see it to fruition. I will do whatever I can to help manifest your vision.

Road to Anywhere

When I see this photo, I lose my breath. It makes me stop and dream. Sometimes, long days and difficult life challenges paralyze me and keep me from dreaming. Throughout the day, I get trapped in my small world--the same mundane tasks over and over. This photo helps me to remember that I've yet to see it all. I've yet to dream it all.

Dream with me a minute...

You and I are standing on that road. Next to us is our "air conditionless" convertible car. I've got on a cowboy hat and boots, Daisy Duke shorts, and a plaid button up shirt that I've tied above my belly. The heat is beating down on our backs, and we can feel the sun cooking our faces.

We step away from the car and take a short walk down the road.

You say, "Nik, that's a long ass road ahead."

I take off my hat and wipe the sweat from my forehead.

"I know," I say. "But we've made it this far."

You look down and kick a loose pebble on the ground.

"You say, we don't have a map. And this is the farthest I've ever been."

I point ahead and say, "Look at that road. Honey, we don't need a map. That road has already mapped itself out. All we've got to do is follow it."

"But, Nik, I don't see anybody or anything along this way. If we run out of gas, we're dead."

"Look, someone has already forged this path. If they've placed a road here, it was intended to be traveled. That means the road will lend all the tools we'll need. But we can't find out if we don't move forward."

You say, "It looks risky."

I sigh. "You took a risk the day you were born. When you exited your mother's womb you didn't know what was at the other end. Ya' just knew it was time to make your exit, and all you had was faith. Along the way you were given tools: contractions, your mother's pushing, and the nurses helpful hands.

"So you aren't scared?."

"Hell yeah!"

You laugh at me.

"And I'm nervous as I-don't-know-what!" I say.

"So why are we doing this?"

"Because if we don't, we'll always wonder what was down there."

"Haven't you heard the saying: Curiosity killed the cat?"

"But cats have nine lives," I tell you.

You stop, tilt your head back, and listen to the wind whistling by your ear.

"See, it's calling you," I say.

"It is," you tell me.

"So, are we ready?"

We turn and face the brick-red rocks and you place your arm around my shoulder.

"The wind whispered in my ear," you say.

"And?"

"It said that this road leads to many blessings. I'm still scared, but now I feel comforted."

"See?" I say. "You've been given your first tool--comfort."

We hop in the convertible and you drive us down the road. Along the way the wind continues to whisper in your ear. We encounter determination, perseverance, serendipity, and courage. We travel that road, and each mile brings new dreams and hopes. We travel that road for an eternity. Never meeting an end, but always gaining new blessings and new tools. The road is life. And we're driving to our destinies.

Happy Monday and continue to forge your road. And don't worry, the tools will be revealed to you, but first, you've got to dream and move forward.

A. P. Manque, something about your recent writings inspired me tonight. Just when I thought I had nothing left to give, I went to your blog and found my inspiration. Thank you for sharing your writing. Your work is authentic and brilliant. **Nikki's eyes are filling with tears**

Last note: As I was typing this piece, my mother walked into the room, saw the photo, and remarked, "That's beautiful." And for one moment, I pictured she and I on that road. My mother. My brick-red rock. My passage into this world. The woman who has given me many tools and inspired many of my dreams. May God bless and keep her always.

False Alarm

Sirens raced by the bedroom window.

Mom called from her room, "They're headed around the corner."

I jumped up from the computer desk, and looked out of the window. Red and blue lights flashed as the excruciating noise of the vehicles' emergency cries raged.

I ran into my mother's room--she was on the phone with Aunt Theldra--and yelled, "I need to call Neighbor. We cain't be missin' out on somethin' like dis. Ask Aunt Theldra if dat house next to door to her is burning down again--you know dat lady got bad luck."

Mom said, "She said no, the sirens are further down Jackson Road."

I was still way amped.

"Well, you think I should call neighbor?" I asked.

"Yeah, girl. Y'all need to see what's going on."

I dialed Neighbor's number and started yelling into the phone, "Neighbor! Neighbor! We need to take a ride."

She said, "I'm headed outside now Neighbor!"

I tiptoed into my bedroom--Isom was asleep in there--and quietly grabbed my shoes. I then raced to the closet and grabbed my jacket, and I was out the door before I could zip it up.

As I was running across the street, Neighbor was already backing her car up to get me.

"Get in Neighbor!" she yelled.

As we whizzed around the corner, we began toying with possible scenarios. Maybe it was a fire. Maybe there was a fight.

When we found the "situation," there were cop cars, firetrucks, and ambulances. The cops had blocked off the street, and folks on this usually quiet street stood outside and watched as we all had to make u-turns and go back the other way.

Neighbor turned around and parked the car on the side of the road.

To our dismay, some of the emergency vehicles began to drive off immediately. We didn't spot any fire and we didn't see any physical confrontation.

"Damn, I cain't believe we came out here fo' nothin'," I said.

"Naw, Neighbor," she said, "we just lookin' out for our people. Makin' sure it ain't somebody we know. Let's see this one as a drill. The next time we'll know exactly what to do."

"I guess," I said with obvious disappointment in my voice. "No excitement for me tonight. No fight or nothing! A waste of my time. But yup, I'll be ready for the next time."

Neighbor drove us home, and I called it a night. Until...

I got a phonecall from a friend of mine who was headed to an "adult" store to purchase some handcuffs for her and her man. She was hoping to find something for $4, but soon found out that cuffs can run from $13 to $40! She hadn't been able to cash her check, and only had the $4 on her. I said, "Please, girl!" She left the store without the cuffs, but I think she plans on going back to get them on Monday. She spotted this cute guy driving an Acura with tinted windows, and we chatted and wondered about who he might be (like we know everybody on the face of this earth). He headed towards McDonalds and she headed home.

And now I'm just sitting here editing my book. It's been an interesting day. Isom fell off the bed for the first time--and it was very uneventful.

Tomorrow is Sunday. I plan on going to church, bookclub meeting, and Uncle Robert Earl's birthday party (in that order).

I'm off to do a little more editing.

Here's to my finishing this editing before my 90th birthday! Cheers!

Amor y besos!

How Evil Are You?

It's Friday night, and since I'm still up, I've decided to add a new post. You lucky (or unlucky, however you view it) folks who have subscriptions will be receiving this update.

I was browsing the internet and I found this cute test entitled "How Evil Are You?". I took it, and the result on the "Evil-O-Meter" said that I am "Twisted." You guys can click on this link to give it a go: http://home.att.net/~slugbutter/evil/. Good luck with the results! And hit my comment button and let me know what your results are.

**sigh**

**seconds pass**

I should be doing something.

I should be editing my book.

I should be sleeping while Isom is sleeping.

I should be debt-free.

I should have had my eyebrows waxed.

I should have made better use of my evening.

I should get a life.

BUT, in the end...

Flippin', should have, could have, would have, BUT DIDN''T.

Please take notice: Those of you who signed up for subscriptions, if you already haven't done so, need to check your email for the confirmation letter. I checked my subscription report, and some of you hadn't confirmed. Just wanted to remind ya'!

**sigh**

**seconds pass**

It's 10:25 PM here in Connecticut. My dad just left to pickup some calzone from Wilson's Pizza, and Mom hasn't long returned from her Budget Meeting at the church. Isom is asleep, and my brother is in D.C. with Thembi. Me, I think I'm going to devote FIVE minutes to editing my book. And then? Then I'm heading to bed.

The life of a party girl! Whoopy!

For added kicks:

I was browsing through some of my old files and I found the sopa opera I'd started for my last website (you guys remember it that?). So for anyone who's bored, I'm gonna post it here. It will be in its original form. I'm not gonna read through it or edit it. I named it after a dear friend of mine (lots of the characters names were from family members or friends).

Ciao and happy reading!

Here goes:

Tunisia Crest Lane

Episode 1

Scene 1

Preston Du’Vant turned onto Tunisia Crest Lane’s winding road. He’d been taking this same route to Tunisia’s every since he was sixteen and had gotten his driver’s license. No matter how many times he'd turned that corner, he felt proud to be friends with the only girl he knew of with a street named after her.

Over the years, Tunisia’s father had proudly recounted the story to him. Mr. Lane said that after he’d made a generous donation to aid in the building of the towns new high school, the town council granted his request that he be able to name the undeveloped street where he’d planned to build his dream home. He decided to name it after his then youngest daughter, Tunisia Crest Lane. Soon after, Preston’s father, Mr. Preston William Du’Vant II--whom everyone called William--began the work on the Lane’s home. At the time, Preston and Tunisia were both going to the same private school and were only ten years of age. This was Mr. Du’Vant’s first estate development, and by the end of the project, 10 gorgeous estate dwellings occupied Tunisia Crest Lane.

Tunisia had gotten her name from her mother, Mrs. Candy Crest Lane. Mrs. Lane wanted all of her children to have something of hers; so, when she married, she dropped her middle name, kept her maiden name, and then took her husband's last name. Each one of her children was given Crest as a part of their names: Terron Herbert Crest Lane, Torrance Elizabeth Crest Lane, and Tunisia Crest Lane--Tunisia was the only child who wasn’t given a middle name.

As Preston pulled into the long brick driveway at 1 Tunisia Crest Lane, he marveled at how well Mrs. Lane had maintained the exterior and landscaping of the estate. The sun was blazing hot. Out front, hidden behind the iron gate and crab apple trees, sat Torrance, the Lane’s sixteen-year-old daughter. She was clad in an outfit designed by her older sister--a two-piece gingham patterned bikini and a wide-brimmed straw hat with a gingham patterned ribbon wrapped around it.

When Torrance spotted Preston’s BMW pulling into the driveway, she flung off her hat and sunglasses, hopped out of her lounging chair, and ran towards the car with open arms.

“Preston!” she squealed as she jumped up and down. “What are you doing home?”

Preston got out of the car, took Torrance into his arms, and spun her tiny body around. He kissed her on her cinnamon cheek and then looked her up and down. He shook his head. “No, the question is, what are you doing outside half naked?”

She folded her hands behind her back and batted her eyes. “You know the Barclay’s?” she asked.

“The family that owns Barclay’s Furniture? They live a few houses down, right?”

“Yup, those are the ones. Their son, Tony, is home from boarding school for the summer.” She clasped her hand over her heart. “Preston, he is the hottest creature that God has ever created.” She sighed. “Everyday, right about this time, he drives by here.”

"And you're expecting him to catch a glimpse of you?"

"Yup!"

“You do know that it’s hard to see through that iron gate?”

“Not a problem.” She picked up her lounging chair from up under the tree and then thrust her miniature table and glass of lemonade into Preston's hands. She walked towards the end of the long driveway. “See, right when I think he’s about to come, I move my chair to the bottom of the driveway, and I sit at the opening of the gate.”

“Does your father know you’re doing this?”

“Yeah, right. When is he ever home.”

Preston put the table down and placed the lemonade on top. He ruffled her long relaxed hair. “Good luck, kiddo. If this outfit doesn’t grab his attention, then nothing will. Where’s your sister?”

“Inside, sitting in front of that stupid sewing machine.”

As was customary, Preston let himself into the house and greeted Pedra, the housekeeper, who was in the kitchen washing dishes.

“Hello, Senora Pedra.”

Pedra gasped for breath and smoothed out her maid’s uniform. When she patted down her hair, Preston laughed. “Pedra, you look beautiful. You haven’t aged a day.”

“Aye, Mr. Du’Vant, you lie.”

They embraced and Pedra planted a kiss on each one of Preston’s cheeks.

“We’ve missed you. And you-know-who has missed you too,” Pedra said as she pointed upstairs. “How was Europe?”

“A bore,” he said with his best British accent. “I couldn’t take another minute of it. And when I called and heard the panic in Tunisia’s voice, I longed for home. There wasn’t anyway I was going to miss this.”

“Si. She’s very stressed. She doesn’t eat or sleep.”

Pedra held up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“That’s her favorite,” Preston said.

“I know. I tried to get her to eat but she refused.” Pedra pushed Preston in the direction of the long stone stairwell. “Go upstairs and see about her. I’ll bring tea in a minute. Peppermint, right?”

Preston kissed her on the cheek. “Pedra, you remember everything. It’s good to be back.”

He walked up to the door of Tunisia’s sewing room and found her bent over the machine. He watched from the back as she hit the machine and shouted obscenities at it.

“Oh! I swear I’ll throw you out of this window.”

Preston cleared his throat.

Tunisia didn’t turn around to look, and waived him off. “Pedra, I said I don’t want anything to eat.”

“Well, maybe you’d like to see a dear old friend?”

Tunisia stopped in her tracks when she heard the base of Preston’s voice. Her heart pounded as she turned and locked eyes with him. She ran over to him and gave him a long hug.

“I guess you’re not happy to see me,” he said jokingly.

He pulled Tunisia away to get a good look at her face.

“Why are you crying? Am I that ugly?”

She tried to hold back her laugh but she couldn’t. “No. It’s just that I’m so stressed. Preston, I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, what made me think that I could do this. This isn’t what I went to school for. And sure as hell isn’t what my father invested all of his money into my education for.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gently shook her. “Okay. Stop. Now breathe.”

Tunisia took a deep breath.

“You have been designing clothes and sewing since we were little. This is what you’re meant to do.” He took her hand and walked her over to the sewing machine. “This piece looks great. I love this bright-red shimmery material--”

“Preston, that color is wine and that material is satin.”

“Whatever. Look! You’re work has come a long way, and I am not going to let you give up now.”

“But Kimberly's cabaret is six hours away, and I need to finish this piece and get over to the cafe for her fitting.”

Preston pulled out the chair and forced Tunisia into it. “I’m going to have to practice some tough love. You will sit here, and you will finish this piece. I'm giving you two hours."

Tunisia's eyes spread wide open.

Preston put his fingers up. "Two hours. Then we’ll get you showered and dressed, because frankly, your breath stinks and you look a horrid mess. And after you’re dressed we’ll head out to the cafe. Are we clear?”

Tunisia pouted. “Yes.”

“Good.”

She looked over her shoulder and took Preston’s hand into her own. “Thanks. You’re a true friend.”

Scene 2

Crystal Bash opened the door to find her brother standing outside. “Raj, what do you want?”

He pushed passed his sister and made his way into her tiny apartment.

“I see we’ve got new furniture,” he said and plopped himself down on her new chaise lounge. “Very comfy. This had to cost a pretty penny.”

“It’s none of our business what I paid for it,” she said and pushed him off the lounger.

“Jeez, calm down,” he laughed. “But I must warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Trying to keep up with our dear cousin is going to send you further into the poor house.”

Crystal sucked her teeth and made her way to her bedroom. She turned around to see her brother on her heels. “Raj, why don’t you go back home?” She held her index finger in the air. “Hmmm. Oh, I forgot. You have no home. You’re still living with Mom.”

“At least I’m not living beyond my means. I know I’m broke, and living at home is rent-free. Even Tunisia is living back at home with Uncle Paul.”

“I don’t care what that spoiled bitch does. And for your information, I am not broke.” She grabbed her bottle of expensive lotion from Raj, who had made his way into her room, and was liberally applying it to his hands.

Raj threw himself onto her down comforter and placed his hands behind his head. “So,” he said, “are you going tonight?”

“To that stupid cabaret? No!”

“Come on, sis. You’re not going to give Tunisia a chance to get her hands on Mr. Du’Vant, are you?”

Now he’d piqued her attention. “What are you talking about?”

He hopped up from the bed and snatched the lotion out of her hands. He opened the top and squirted a long line on the length of his arm. "Wow, this is really nice," he said as he rubbed it in.

She popped him on the head. "Will you stop fooling around!"

“Alright, woman!" Raj rubbed his head. "My source tells me that Du'Vant is in town, and that he’ll be at the cabaret tonight.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

Crystal folded her arms. “Who’s your source?”

“A Miss Torrance Elizabeth Crest Lane.”

Her mouth fell wide open. “So it’s true.” She paced the floor and wrung her hands. “What am I going to wear?”

“But, dear sister, I thought you weren’t going to attend?” he said in a mockingly snobbish accent.

“Nonsense. What gave you that idea? I wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.” She grabbed him by the arm and walked him to the front door. “Now, get out. I have an engagement to prepare for.”

“And with that face you’ll need lots of prep time,” he mocked as Crystal thrust him out the front door.

After she slammed the door in his face, her usual scowl turned into a wicked smile. She threw her head back and laughed. “And now the fun begins,” she thought to herself.

American Idols at Heart

Old Business:

In total, we left Ann (the weight loss lady) 6 comments! Thanks guys! I was hoping for 10, but I ain't complaining. And if you didn't get a chance to leave her your comment, feel free to do so at: http://amidestinedforever.blogspot.com/. I'll be checking in on her blog, and I'll let you guys know how she's progressing.

And while I was checking out your posts, I noticed that some of you have taken the initiative to start your own blogs! Wow!!! My friend Crystal has started a blog with her boyfriend. Right now there's a post up about her gallbladder surgery, but I spoke with her today, and she says the blog will be about diabetes (her boyfriend is diabetic). She says they'll be putting work into the blog this weekend. When they're finished, with her permission, I'll give you the link to their site.

And I want to thank all of you for the positive comments and emails. I'm happy that we are all here to help and support one another. Let's keep the "VINE" going.

GUESS WHAT? I scheduled my doctor appointment!! Yea! The appointment is in early February, and it is now officially on my calendar: http://my.calendars.net/missnikkiann. A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who helped to make this happen.

New Business:

So, I just watched Tuesday's American Idol this morning (thank God for Tivo, it's the best invention for busy people AND folks who hate commercials). On this episode, this WONDERFUL woman by the name of Rhonetta was auditioning. At first glance, I thought she was a stripper or part-time ho. But, it turns out that she truly believed she had talent. She waltzed into the room dressed in a skimpy white skirt and sequenced halter top, which showed of her jiggly belly.

And please note: I have NOTHING against jiggly bellies, I'm only describing this young hooker, oops, I mean, lady.

Second note: I was only teasing about the hooker thing.

**Nikki clears her throat**

Her audition was scary and lackluster, and there was no way she was getting through to the next round. After her audition, she proceeded to rant, rave, and cuss about the judges (a lot of her cussing was funny, though). She made fun of Paula Abdul and basically called her "over-the-hill." She probably wanted to call Paula "talentless," but probably refrained as she realized that Paula's bank account could blow hers out of the water.

After the audition, the cameras followed this woman for a bit as she kept up with her shenanigans. In the final scene, we see her dishing out more cuss words as she crosses the street and is almost hit by a car.

OH CRAP!!!! Lawdy, lawdy, y'all. I am over here laughing my pants off. A picture just came to my mind. There's this one take where she's doing this dance and her skirt (piece of small cloth) flies up and they have to blur out her unmentionables. It was sick!

I mean, here was this beautiful (at least she was to me) dark-skinned sister with this long, blonde wig on.

Please note: I have a wig collection--so I have nothing against wigs. Just haven't ventured into blonde, yet. Hmmmm...maybe I will.

It's sad because the people on this show want attention so badly. I don't mean "look at me I've got real talent" attention. They simply want to be recognized for anything--period. A lot of us are so thirsty for recognition and acceptance that we'll do anything.

Side thought: Hmmmm, maybe my webpage is a cry for attention. Wow! Maybe, at heart, I'm an American Idol Wannabee. **Nikki gasps for air**

These contestants think they want fame and fortune, but the real issue is the need for the human spirit to feel as if it's apart of something--apart of a community in which it can be safe, loved, and recognized.

So, I laugh at these people, but maybe they're nothing more than a mirror image of me.

Question: If your baby were crying for your attention, and you knew that all you had to do was play pee-a-boo for a minute to soothe her, wouldn't you do it?

Here's my point: All we're doing is playing peek-a-boo with these people (the contestants). We give them an outlet. A moment to have their shine. And if Simon Cowell hasn't broken their spirit before the audition ends, I think they leave out stronger people, and as the audience, we get the opportunity to be thoroughly entertained.

Anywho! It's FRIDAY! What are you going to do with your weekend? Email me or leave me a comment about your weekend plans. And to see what I'll be up to, feel free to nose around my calendar: http://my.calendars.net/missnikkiann.

That's pretty much it for this week. Unless something moves me, I won't be posting anything until Sunday night (but you guys with the subscriptions will receive automatic updates if I do post this weekend).

You guys have a kick butt weekend!

**Man, I can sound so corny!**

Make a Contribution Day

Thanks to the people who've been emailing AND calling me about the doctor appointment. I had a jam-packed schedule today, and so I didn't make any progress in that area (poor Ang, you tried so hard to get me to call the doctor today, I love you for it). Tomorrow will be a lot slower, and I'm planning to call another doctor. But, please continue to hound me until you hear me say I have an official appointment.

My therapy session was amazing. Kathy is a brilliant woman. One of the steps to FREEDOM that we discuss coincides with the letter M. M stands for Make a Contribution. Kathy always asks me how my actions/non-actions & goals have made a contribution. And after a lot of thinking, I saw a wonderful "vine" of contributions taking place.

Here's the vine:

--I go to Kathy for therapy and she helps me with my issues.

--I take that help and knowledge and spill my guts on my webpage.

--My friends and family read my page and learn something.

--My friends and family pass my page on to someone else and they learn something.

--And, my prayer is that the next person (whom I've never met) will pass it on to someone else.

The next thing you know, almost 100 people have been helped because of Kathy's initial investment in my mental well-being. Crazy, isn't it?

So, today I have a project for anyone who has a couple of seconds to spare. I'd like to prove the power of the "VINE."

About 5 days ago, I was browsing through blogger.com to see what kinds of webpages other people had up. I can across this one blog titled: "...to be overweight." It's by this fat woman who's trying to lose the pounds. Having watched a dear friend of mine suffer from excess weight, I decided to reach out to this woman whom I've never met, and I left her a comment (the same way you guys do for me). Each day that passed, I checked her webpage to see if she'd made any progress, but she didn't post for a few days. Believe it or not, I worried about her. I wondered how things were going. Today I went to her page and she wrote about how she'd failed and would start dieting again "tomorrow."

**sigh*

It made my heart sink.

For some reason my heart tugs for this woman. She's just like the rest of us, in need of support and inspiration. I was hoping that we could extend a "VINE" to her. All I want is for you guys to go to her page and leave words of encouragement (ex: "You can do it," "You're perfect the way you are," "Love yourself," "Change takes time"--you get it).

Remember, I don't know this lady from a crack in the street pavement. I just think she'd feel so inspired if we reached our "VINE"out to her. How amazing would it be to see words of encouragement from complete strangers.

Anywho, let's MAKE A CONTRIBUTION. Life has given so much to us, why can't we give back a little something. I'm hoping that at least 10 of you will help me with this. Here's her webpage address: http://amidestinedforever.blogspot.com/. Just click on that link and you'll be directed to her page. I'll be checking her page to see how many of us have participated. And feel free to email me to let me know you've participated.

And be sure to pass this to your friends. The more the better.

A thought:

In one of my favorite books, "Conversations with God," God explains that if you want something, try giving it to someone else first. God says that, what you give to another, you give to yourself.

MAKE A CONTRIBUTION--it'll come right back to you..

The Ocean Job Lot Saga

Okay, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time out to remind me about scheduling my appointment (and there were many of you!). Now for the sad news. I'd called my friend, who also has keloids, and had gotten her doctor's information (mom and I saw this friend the other day and her doctor is doing a great job with her keloids). When I phoned the office, the secretary informed me that the doctor is NOT accepting patients right now.

**sigh**

Great. So, I'll have to go with some other options, BUT, I did accomplish my goal. And let me say that the ONLY reason why I remembered to call the doctor is because of your reminders. Thanks! And remember, I need someone to keep reminding me until I've made an official appointment.

Also, thank you for your wonderful emails and comments. I was overwhelmed by the response.

As special hello to: AP Manque, Steven & Teressa

New business:

Ummmm…Ang, I'm happy to hear that "your honey" is out of jail. Enough said! And I can't wait to hear that whole story. **Nikki clears her throat**

More business:

I go to therapy tomorrow. I NEED IT.

An interesting story:

Over the Christmas holiday, I spent a lot of time mailing eBay items to winning bidders. There was one item that I needed a small box for, and per my mother's advice, I decided to venture to Ocean Job Lot (I think that's what it's called) to purchase this box. Here's the rundown…

The Ocean Job Lot Saga

Miss Nikki walks into Ocean Job Lot and spots the box she needs.

"Great," she says to herself. "The box is only a buck like mom said it would be."

Miss Nikki proceeds to the cash register and chooses to go into the empty line.

"Yo' Marcia," one cashier yells to the cashier in Miss Nikki's lane. "Marco been calling you like mad, yo'"

"So what," Nikki's cashier says and sucks her teeth.

Nikki hesitates, but places her stuff on the conveyor belt.

"I'm sayin', yo'. He just keep callin'"

"Whateva!" Marcia answers as she swipes the box across the digital reader.

Nikki continues to watch as Marcia swipes it over and over again.

Marcia sucks her teeth and says, "Dang, yo'! I hate dis job. Why don't none of these things work, yo'."

Nikki looks down at the "dollar" box and contemplates telling the Marcia the price, but then changes her mind.

Marcia stands and looks disgusted as she sighs in frustration.

Nikki contemplates running over to get another box with a price tag.

Marcia finally says, "Yo' Sue. I need a price check on dis."

Nikki notes that the lazy a*& cashier could have walked over to check the price her damn self, but she refrains from getting angry--heck, she is in therapy, ya' know.

Marcia ups-and-walks-off and proceeds to go to the other cashier's lane. She gets on the phone, and appears to be talking to the guy who'd called her earlier.

"Damn, yo'," she says to dude on the line. "I thought you was supposed to meet me at the school, yo'. That's some foul stuff, man. I thought we was supposed to be hookin'-up and stuff. Whateva' yo! Cause I waited fo' you to call me…"

**And blah, blah, blah. You get the picture.**

Nikki is standing in disbelief.

Moments later another woman gets in "the OTHER line." Marcia, who is standing in "the OTHER line," says to the lady, "Hey Lady! Dat line ova' there is da' only one dats open!" She says this as she frantically points at Nikki's line.

Seconds after that, Sue comes back with the price check.

"Marcia, it's a dollar."

"What, yo'?" Marcia yells over the phone receiver.

"I said, it's a dollar."

"What!?"

"The box! It's a dollar!" Sue yells back.

Now, Nikki, AND the other customer behind her, wait in line as Marcia continues with her conversation with Marco.

"So what we gonna do, yo'! Is we hookin' up or not?"

**Blah, Blah Blah. You get the picture.**

This exchange goes on for at least another 45 seconds. The lady behind Nikki asks, "Is there a cashier here?"

Nikki mumbles through clenched teeth, "I think it's her. And I feel like I'm in the twilight zone."

Seconds pass.

Nikki starts thinking to herself: I don't need this. I'm not spending my money where I'm not wanted and appreciated. See, this is why folks shouldn't take jobs that they aren't passionate about. Hell, when I worked at McDonalds I as passionate about it. No, it didn't pay much, but I took pride in my service.

**Blah Blah Blah. You get the point.**

The customer went to ask Nikki something as Marcia continued to flap her gums on the phone. Nikki adjusted her jacket, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and the left the store.

The next day, Nikki went to another Ocean Job Lot, right in her own town. She ran in, grabbed the same dollar box and proceeded to the line. She was greeted with a warm smile and friendly chitchat as the cashier rung up her stuff. And from that few minutes in line, Nikki learned that this cashier had a lot going on in her life. She had a son and a husband, and the family was working with one car. She needed to leave work and pick her husband up to bring him to work. A customer, whom the cashier knew, was in the store and offered to take her husband to work.

Nikki grabbed her bag, was wished a happy holiday and headed home with her $1 box.

NOW. Do you see where I'm headed here?

Here it is:

1. Both women had the SAME job at the SAME store and were probably making the SAME measly pay. But one woman saw it as a curse, and the other saw it as a blessing. Which one do you think will wind up managing her own Ocean Job Lot for better pay and more opportunities?

2. When you work a job that you aren't passionate about--a job that makes you miserable--you make others miserable.

That's it for now. I'm off to bed (maybe I'll edit my book for a bit). I look forward to hearing from you guys. And continue to spread the word.

Hi, My Name Is Nikki.

I'm not perfect.

I've got ill moods.

I've got issues.

I need my eyebrows waxed.


I'm wearing my ugly head scarf.




I have moles all over my face.

I never wear makeup.

Now that I'm a mom, I've found that I'm more into
dingy sweats than posh attire.

I'm due for a haircut.

I've got baby drool and spitup all over me.

I'm in need of a hair cut.

I'm seeing a therapist.

AND...

I've got scars--mentally and PHYSICALLY.

Hi, My Name Is Nikki, and that's my keloid.

That scar (keloid) has been with me since the 4th grade. It started out as a tiny bump from the chicken pox. If you look closely, you will also see a piece of my other keloid on my waist, and this, too, came from the chicken pox. I had both scars removed--especially the one at the top, because it was being irritated by my bra strap (and still is today).

After having the scars removed the first time, they grew even bigger, so I had them removed again. And ya' know what? Yup, they grew back EVEN BIGGER. Not only are they big, but they're very painful. On the days that I have pain, it feels as if someone is poking me in the back with a knife. I've tried taking all sorts of painkillers for it, but nothing dulls the pain.

I've made many appointments with different physicians to see what other options are out there, and each time I don't followup. But now is the time--mainly because I can't take the pain any longer. And I can't tell you how self-conscious these things make me feel. I can't wear those cute halter tops or my bikinis without the scars showing (and y'all know I love the beach and sunbathing in skimpy bikinis). And let me tell you, I've gotten bad sunburn on my keloids from too much tanning, and the pain is killer. Even in the summer when I wear my tank tops, parts of my keloid shows through, and I walk around worrying if anyone can see my imperfection.

I've been asked more than once if the scars are from a stab wound. Stab wound!? *sigh* Thembi is having a scarf made for my bridesmaid gown just so that my mind can be at ease on that important day. I'd hate to be walking down the aisle, worrying about strange looks.

The lady who did my gown fitting told me that both her husband and daughter have keloids (they're white, and I only thought black folks got these things). To top if off, she says that her husband grows internal keloids! I couldn't believe it, and it made me shut up--I'd rather have the external keloids than the internal ones.

Well, since I've been bold enough to reveal myself to you (yes, all the pictures on today's post were just taken TODAY by my mom!), I am now going to ask a favor of you. I really need to take the time out and make a doctor's appointment for my keloids--something always comes up. The last appointment I had, I had to cancel because my ob-gyn decided to induce me (I was supposed to go to the doctor the next day for my keloids because I didn't want to be in the pain I'm going through now while trying to deal with a newborn baby.). So, I had good intentions, but God had another plan.

But, now is the time. I'm asking if one of you would email AND call me about making my appointment. Email and call me until you hear me say, "Yes, I called the doctor!" **good luck, cause y'all know i don't answer phones!!!!!!!!!! LOL** So, that's the assignment. Call (and email) Nikki to pester her about making this appointment. I would really appreciate it. And for those of you who don't have a number for me, you can just email me, or ask the person who directed you to my webpage to give you my number.

Now, the main point of this post:

We all have baggage, issues, and scars. The longer we put off tending to them, the more painful they can become.

And you can now subscribe to Nikki Ann's House by entering you e-mail address in that empty box that's to the left or by clicking here. Please note that subscribing is different from the daily e-mail I send you, so even if you're already receiving a daily email, please take the time to "officially" subscribe.

Thanks. And let's continue to keep it real with ourselves--scars, moles, ugly head SCARVES, and all.

Ciao!

Change or Die?

First let me start out with this:

Hi, Mr. Tony Gadson!

My dear cousin called me and asked why I hadn't mentioned him or put up a picture of him. I mean, hello dude! This is not the Oprah show. This is the internet, and ain't but 4 or 5 people gonna see this. But I love my cuz, so whatever makes him happy. Plus, yesterday, I called him at work, and he took the time to give me some great business advice on my new idea.

I should also thank my brother, Paul, LuCiana & Crystal for helping me with my idea.

Now, that's done!

Anywho! Today is Sunday, but by the time you guys get this it'll be Monday. It's a new work week and a new opportunity for a fresh start. Isom and I attended church today (Thanks Tunisia for holding him the entire service, for the first time since he was born, I was able to fully participate in church). The preacher's sermon was entitled "Change or Die." She explained that statistics show that if given 30 days to make a change or die, most people would not be able to change. It is found that people need true stories not just rules, laws, or health scares to make changes.

Scenario: You go to the doctor, he tells you that you have 30 days to live, but if you stop eating pork, beef, sweets, and fried foods you'll survive.

Days 1-3: You're excited cause ya' want to friggin' live. Plain and simple.

Days 4-7: Dang, you sho' is missin' that after dinner dessert. And what you wouldn't give for some sweet potato pie.

Day 8: Man, some pigs feet and hamhocks would be nice.

Day 8 1/2: Shoot, a nice steak would be better than this salad.

Day 8 3/4: My goodness, baked fish! What I wouldn't give for some Cajun Fried Catfish.

Day 9: On your ride home from work, you're starving. You're tired of it all. That turkey sandwich, baked chips, and fruit salad you had for lunch didn't quite hit the spot. You pull into your nearest fastfood joint and order up a fried fish sandwich (Hey, it may be fried, but at least it's fish).

Day 10: Folks at the office are having yet ANOTHER birthday party with cake. Humph,, you missed out on homegirl's cake 2 days ago, and ain't no way you missin' out again. So you have a slice.

Days 11-22: You feel like such a failure. You know you don't have the willpower to go through with it, and you turn back to your regular eating habits.

Day 23: You receive a phonecall that your bestfriend has had a heart attack. When you speak to her, she tells you that her doctor had warned her that she needed to change her eating habits and lifestyle. She'd felt the restrictions were too overwhelming and never even attempted any of his suggestions.

You go home and evaluate things. All of sudden things makes sense. It's day 23, and you realize that you want to live at any cost. You don't understand how you couldn't see it before. You just know that there was something about your friend's story that made it more real for you. More immediate. And so, you make the necessary changes.

That's kinda what the preacher was saying. Humanbeings tend to need stories to make things "click" in our minds.

Thus, I hope that's what I can give back to the world with my talents. Stories--whether they are fact or written fiction--that will help others, and me, to be able to make the necessary changes that will move us closer to our dreams.

By coming to my page, you've helped to give me a voice, and I thank you for that.

God and I have some big plans brewing. And if you just hold on while we (God & I) work somethings out, you'll be along for the beginnings of a ride that will touch many people--including me.

And continue to pass the word around.

If you'd like to be added to my mailing list, click "email me," and send me your name and email address.

Miss Nikki Ann

Phone Phobia

I have a fear of phones. I hate to hear them ring. Part of it has to do with the jobs I've had in the past. I've worked my share of receptionist jobs. I've said, "Thank you for calling _____. This is Nikki, how may I help you," so many times that it makes me sick thinking about it. More than once, I've come home from work and answered the house phone with: "Thank you for calling--Oops!"

One time I worked as a switchboard operator. My gosh! I got so tired of having to be "overly" friendly. I got so tired of taking messages and forwarding calls. I got so tired of hearing, "I don't want to leave a voicemail, can't I just leave a message with you." Heck, no! My gosh, people! I'm only one person, for-crying-out-loud. Give me a break.

Even when I got jobs that had nothing to do with receptionist work, I still got sucked into it.

"Hey, Nikki. We need someone to relieve the receptionist for lunch."

At my last job, we had a receptionist, but she refused to stay her butt put. She was too busy setting up damn office parties and stuff. Everytime I looked up she was out of her seat, and one of us had to pick up the phone.

I hate phones.

Now, let's do the math. I live in a house with 4 other people. We have two house phones that ring all day, and each individual (except for Isom) has his or her own cellphone. That's a total of 6 friggin' phones ringing at any given moment (and sometimes at the same time). Crazy!

I recently told Kathy (remember my lovely therapist) that I hate to hear the phone ring. I told her how it causes me such an anxiety attack that I no longer keep my cellphone ringer on, and I totally ignore our house phone. After much probing, Kathy was also able to get me to reveal that I'm afraid to pickup phones because I'm afraid that the person on the other end is going to ask me for something that I can't or don't want to deliver.

It's rare that a person will call me and I'll pickup the phone (especially since the ringer is set to off). I feel much better checking my voicemail throughout the day. Kathy says that tactic has been a great coping mechanism for me. But she also challenged me to just be plain HONEST with the people who call me.

Okay, Kathy, I'll take that advice.

So here it is. To all my dear friends and family members:

I HATE PHONES. I HATE THE SOUND OF A RINGING PHONE. I hate the fact that in 2006 there are WAAAAAY too many ways for people to contact each other: house phone, cellphone, text message, instant messaging, e-mail, regular mail... It's just too overwhelming!

Phew! Okay.

But on the other hand, once I'm past my anxiety, I love a good phonecall. I love hearing from my wacked-out friends, and listening to what crazy things they're up to. I love receiving phonecalls when the person on the other end has good news. I love being able to console a dear friend after she's had a rough day. I love calling my brother at work and plucking his last nerve. I love hearing what new wedding drama Thembi has going on.

Maybe I'll come up with a new invention--something without ringers and loud noises.

Just maybe.

Until then, I'll keep checking my voicemail and hoping that my fears don't lead me to miss out on something great (Man, I'd hate for Crystal to call and say she'd had last minute tickets to a concert, but that my phone went straight to voicemail and nobody picked up the house phone.)

Anywho, yes, Gia, I found you and Wally on the website (Click here to find Gia & Wallace on their honeymoon). You were wearing this really spiffy hat and Wallace had a nice cold beer in his hand. It looked as if you guys were having a ball. As a matter-of-fact, I'd like to put up a few pics of my own in honor of you newlyweds. Hold on a minute....


Man, we had a good time.

I'll chat with you all later. And remember, you 9-to-5er's, it's Friday!

And continue to spread the word, I'm loving hearing from the new people you guys have sent to my site.

Ciao!

Hmmm...I've Been Thinking. AGAIN!

Someone asked me to post pics of Isom. Here ya' go!

Okay, I haven't got much time. I'm supposed to be editing my book (remember that novel I finsihed writing 3 years ago! LOL).

So, I've been doing a lot of brainstorming, meditating, and reading. I THINK (I ain't fo' sho'), but I THINK I've come up with a good idea for something. You guys be on the lookout, and wish me luck--actually, what I need is prayer.

You see, as we know, my problen isn't "being short of ideas." My problem is "following through with my ideas." I don't even have time to name the numerous things I've started and then given up on, got bored of, or simply didn't follow through on.

This time, I'm taking it slow.

My therapist (I think therapists are great--if they're good!) pointed out somethings to me that I think MIGHT help me to follow through on some of my ideas. One of the steps to FREEDOM, that's what she's working on with me, is Organizing My Options. Sometimes I forget that I have more than a few options. There are millions of ways to do something. I just have to broaden my thinking. Think limitlessly. In the past, sometimes I've given up because I couldn't see that there were other options.

*sigh* I love Kathy, she's the best. I only have about a month of therapy left, and I'm gonna miss her. But like she told me today at our session, she's gonna be sure that I have all the tools I need to continue to make progress.

Like I was saying, I'm excited about my new idea, but I want to work through all the kinks and patch up any holes before revealing my idea to you.

Now, I'd like to thank everyone who responded to the last post. You guys gave me great advice and motivation.

Someone left a really nice post, but the name said anonymous. I'd really like to know who that was. And even if you don't want everyone to know, shoot me a private e-mail at nikkifulse@yahoo.com and let me know who are.

Now, scroll down and take a look at the end of this post. There is an envelope with a black arrow on it. Here's the deal with that. You can click on that to send my post to a friend/family member/boyfriend/coworker/undercover lover... Or, if you have a friend/family member/bartender/dog/cow whom you'd like to add to my list, shoot me their e-mail address to my e-mail at nikkifulse@yahoo.com or leave their e-mail address in the "comment" section. I'm trying to find more people to entertain, and hopefully they'll read something that can help them in their lives.

Tunisia, send this to Rachel. Tell her I miss her. And what's her website addy? I know she's been selling some great stuff. And do you have a website for that amazing hot sauce you make. If not, you should!!!!

I've added some stuff to my calendar, go nose around!

I'll chat with you guys later. Off to editing.

Now, here are some links:

My Calendar (nose around and see what I'm up to): http://mycalendars.net/missnikkiann

My poll (take the weekly poll): http://home.comcast.net/cgi-bin/PBEntry?owner=nikkiann75

My eBay Items (see what I'm selling): http://cgi3.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewUserPage&userid=i_am_so_lovely

My email address: nikkifulse@yahoo.com

Morale is a Little Low

Not feeling too hot today. But maybe if I entertain you with a quick anecdote I'll be able to laugh at myself, and then I'll feel better.

Picture this...

Last week, Miss Nikki Ann looked at her calendar and found herself in quite a pickle. She realized that her bills were coming due, and that she didn't have a dime to pay them. Now, the old Miss Nikki Ann (before Isom) would have found a great job in the matter of a week. Problem solved. But, the new Miss Nikki Ann is committed to staying home with Isom until he's one--throws a wrench in the finding a job option.

Added information: Any of you who know me, know that I'm always complaining about my $70,000 student loan debt and a good $20,000 in credit card debt! Yup, those figures are real.

Question: Enough already, what did Miss Nikki Ann decide to do about her bills?

Answer: I usually rob Peter to give to Paul (or just ask my dear friend Paul for money!) and write a check from one of my many credit cards and then pay my bills. This time I decided to send out for more credit cards with lower interest rates, so that I could consolidate all of my card debt. Bad move. Folks only gave me $750 credit lines, opposed to the $15,000 credit lines I'm use to getting.

BUT THAT DIDN'T STOP ME! NOOOOOOOOOOO!

I then proceeded to apply for a personal loan (um, I've already got one I'm paying off now for $6,000). The lady on the phone ran down all the questions and then told me to hold on. She said that it'd probably take a few minutes to process my application for the $12,500 loan I was seeking (Like I need that much more debt. Boy am I silly).

One second passed. Two seconds passed.

BOOM!

The representative was back on the line in TWO seconds with a big:

YOU'VE BEEN DENIED!

Then she had the nerve to hang up really quick.

I couldn't believe it. I'm never denied credit. Credit used to be my bestfriend.

*sigh*

Added information: I've never missed a bill payment in my life. EVER! I always pay my bills and I pay them on time. But for the first time I was contemplating not paying them. Just giving up.

But, as we know, I'm a hustler at heart. Actually, I'm just blessed, but hustler sounds way more exciting and dramatic. Some way, somehow things always come together. I just paid a bill the other day with money someone had owed me. And just today, I deposited $25 from eBay sells into my account.

What I like most about being down is that this is when God works his miracles. This is when life gets good. I know something is brewing, and I can't wait to see how all of this turns out.

Anything is possible.

And for those who are shocked about how open I am about my debt:

I feel that when we open up and tell our stories it lends to help someone else, and in return, it also helps us to truly hear and see ourselves so that we can do better. And anyway, those weren't even close to ALL of my debt figures!!! I know it's not funny, but laughter gives me the strength to fix my situation.

Anywho, I'm gonna update my calendar with the dates my bills are due. If you're up for a laugh or just want to pry into my life, check it out at: http://my.calendars.net/missnikkiann.

Also, please know that you can leave comments on this site. Just click on the link at the botton of this post that says comments. I'd love to hear from you guys, even if it's just to scold me about my debt.

And check out the "links to this post" link

And feel free to pass my website link on to your friends. Maybe they'll find my life situations and lesson useful to their lives.

Dr. King's Birthday

My calendar is now up and running. Visit http://mycalendars.net/missnikkiann to see what I'm up to.

It was a wonderful MLK day. Preston, Isom, and I spent it in the car, heading home from D.C., listening to the Wendy Williams show. Wendy spent time discussing Dr. King, and we got to his clips of his speech. I can remember the time when we actually went to programs. Now that I have a little one to teach, I think I'll resume that tradition.


Click this link to take this week's poll: http://home.comcast.net/cgi-bin/PBEntry?owner=nikkiann75


Thanks to everyone who participated in last week's poll.

Here are the results from the week of January 9th:

Total Number Of Surveys Taken: 17

Will you be doing something, other than sitting on your butt, to celebrate King's birthday on its official holiday, Monday, January 16?

Base: Total Votes 15

3	( 20%)	Yes, going to a program, etc.
2	( 13%)	Yes, I just don't know what yet.
3	( 20%)	Dang, I hadn't thought about it.
5	( 33%)	Nope!
2	( 13%)	Martin The Luther, who? Is he Irish?