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4月9日 The Simplest Things My niece, Maya, loves extravagant things. Like most seven years old divas, the bigger the better. What I find amazing is that she also loves simple things, moreso than those grand items I can find at Walmart! I instinctually know what makes her smile, and, as her "Aunt Mouse", I try to remember to keep those little things around when she is over here.
Her favorite thing is Bonne Bell Lip Gloss. What big smiles I get for a $1.50 investment!
 A year ago April 3rd, the Husband and I became burn victims (you have to be a "victim" before you can learn how to be a "survivor"!) During the earlier chapter of the last year, it wasn't the love offering my coworkers gave me or the phone calls that gave me comfort, or even the study bible I had finally got. It was a simple wooden beaded bracelet with a small wooden cross on it. I got it from the Lifeway book store for all of a dollar. It meant more to me than a precious metal it could have been made out of.
My heart is broken. Since I've been going back and forth to stay with my mom at the hospital, it is now missing in the twilight zone. I hope it turns up.
 I refuse to lie to you. Running back and forth to the hospital (where Ma still is) and trying to keep normalcy at home is tiring and wearing on my body! I've had a low grade headache for the last ten days or so. For a while, her health has fluctuated so that we weren't sure she would be with us. In such a heavy situation, as grave as things were becoming, the simplest destresser is to have a sense of humor. It's an odd time to do so, but more practical than drinking myself to oblivion (as a sister had chose to do!) Crying is a much easier option, but there has to be a balance for it, right?
 Reguardless of his Autism, my son Nick is a very precise young man. He keeps dates and facts in his mind like a lot of us breathe. He is not only the family historian, his also has a preoccupation with the deceased. Last week, when I called home to give the Husband an update on Ma's condition, I overheard him tell our sons "No, she's still alive". Hmph! Life doesn't stop when a loved one is critically ill, but geez!
Nick had made a video tribute to the deceased Duncans. Both amused and annoyed, I arched my overplucked eyebrow and drawled "Nick, you have to wait to start the Rankin side. Grandma's still here!" I guess he is ready to get started!
 One of the most profound ways to say "I love you" is not to say it at all. My small cynicism aside, perhaps I have used these three worlds so carelessly, it has lost the umph! Companiable silence, holding hands, a sincere smile, a cold puppy nose, little kisses do express the feelings as eloquently as the most finely spoken declaration. I'm like my "peewee woman" --Maya-- but I would love a Dr. Pepper lip gloss, too!
This week, I wish for all of you: Companiable silences, comical whimsy, a bounty of love, and many simple things that causes you to really smile (even when you really don't feel like it -- that is when you need it the most!) and totally warms you with His precious grace!  3月20日 On my way to blogging this morning, I was getting into my groove. Gee! My fingers remember how to fall! I was typing and having a good time, when bam! I slightly moved my laptop and the cord slipped out! Man!!!! It felt so good to be back in Blogland, I didn't have the time to really think of ugly words I could've used at that particulary moment. I know .. I should've "Saved as Draft", but I forgot. At least, I got back on after falling off the horse. I know I've been super busy with the families and all, but when I glance and see comments, I get skittish and happy at the same time, especially when I have writer's block and don't have anything particularly profound or witty or comical to write about. Then, my typical reaction, I withdraw. The ego does get in the way! I am working on some things to get into.
Kovu is just wonderful. He is laying in the back door after eating all his chews. We're going to hit the pavement. And let me tell you, it's a geat time of year for it!
Oh, well! I'll just have at it later!
Love and Hugs!!
 3月5日 It's a great morning!Good morning, dear ones! I am thankful to see another day around good ol' Greensboro. It's brisk and crisp outside, but the sun is out in full force. I hope you (all) had a great weekend.
It's a Monday morning, and I so glad I could get on and say hi to Blogland. It's going to be a sore day for me .. I got a root canal scheduled in about thirty minutes .... Yikes!
I dislike any form of dental work, especially those with a grinding sound effect attached to it! Since I won't be able to wimp out with happy gas, I will bring my walkman and zone out on booty shaking music while I squirm uncomfortably in the chair! Afterwards, if I am not too traumatized, I will take an exihiarating walk in the nearby park. I must keep the body as well as I can! In the mean time, I will holler at all of you lovely people later on during the week.
Love and Hugs to everyone! 2月20日 Green nail polish and false eye lashes The last week has been nothing short of a juggling act. I've been spending quite a bit of time at my young folks (my parents). My dad reluctantly allows some of us to care for him and Ma. It amazing how much time shifts. We take care of them! Daddy has arthritis and Ma has a myriad of things, her Alzheimers at the forefront. She refuses to eat and she doesn't want to take a bath. She is not surly, just matter-of-fact about it.
Take Sunday evening for exaple. I went to the house, and tried to coax Ma with a bath.
"I don't want to take a bath." After running water in the bathtub, I tsked her and scolded how I had to have two heavenly grown folks drinks (Long Island Iced Tea) at Outback Steakhouse just to come over and clean her up. I shed her clothes and helped her in the warm water.
"You" I told her gently, are not going to con me out of it today.
"Jr. Get me out of here." Ma called to Daddy.
"Oh, no you don't" I chided. "We gotta be clean, Ma. You know how much you love to be clean." I soaped her cloth with Ivory soap and proceeded her cleansing.
"Jr. Get me out of this place." Soap. Rinse. Help her out. Dry her off. Gently wipe her face. My face. Her face. After a few more verbal tugs, I have her dressed and tucked safety in bed next to Daddy. She reached to find him, and she settled down. Daddy watches her with his mock long-suffering gaze. By this time, my sister Chrystal and my twenty-one-year-old nephew, Evan joined me. The three of us stand post at the foot of their bed in their slightly cluttered room.. Ma snuggles closer to Daddy, and I laugh.
"It's your fault" I tease him. You put that lovin' on her all those years ago, and you have to suffer now, you flirt!" I look at my cohorts. I know back in the day, Daddy was nothing but a flirt.
"Granddad was a pimp!" Evan chimed in , laughing hard at the scandalized look on Daddy's face. Ma has a ghost of a smile on hers, as if she was in on the jest.
I groaned. Oh, no Evan didn't say that! "No, Granddad didn't do pimp!" That word doesn't even belong in the same sentence as Daddy."
"Come on, Evan" Chrystal tossed in, decisively. Slight neck role, and tossing her shoulder length auburn locks. "Daddy was an old player. An old, old player."
I closed my eyes and shook my head. Poor Daddy. From a flirt to a player to a pimp!
I look at the false eyelashes to the left of my keyboard. I was born with skimpy wisps, and my eyes are slightly almond shaped. I was thinking the lashes would bring some flair to them. I was a charter member of the tomboy society. Now, I am in a girly-girl phase. I have a deliciously feminine flair of the dramatic. I may try them out some time in the week.
"I don't understand the purpose" The Husband comments. Isn't that what mascara is for?"
Yeah, but the lashes are instant glam! To eventually do a poetry reading, now is a good a time as any to explore how I plan to present myself , I guess. I enjoy the girl thing. My nails are currently Jade Green. Why not? I think of Jerry, one of my coworkers. He is always stunned when I have anything different than red or pink. Who says that there isn't another place in the solar system, and green polish isn't the norm? Ya never know.
And, I think a little defiantly, that Ma needed to paint her nails something other than red or pink or brown. That maybe, just maybe, she could've escaped her current fate. Time and circumstance brings so much to roost at anyone's front door. I don't know why my hell-on-wheels mama was affected with Alzheimers. I know I counted on her to stay the same, my constant through all my highs and my screw ups.
When I finally accepted she had Alzheimers, Luther Vandross had his stroke. His song, "Dance with my Father" was played over and over on the airwaves. I would hear it and cry. I would drive down the street, listening to Tom Joyner's daily vigil and Vandross's mother's words floating around me. I would stumble out of my car, taking my keys out to let myself in my apartment, slamming the door, and burying my face in the pillow, crying on my bed before my family would get home.
What excuse do I have, now, not to live my life to its fullest? Since Ma couldn't or wasn't allowed to live the life she wanted, what reason do I have not to give that kind of scrutiny and consideration to my own? Especially now, as her sickness progresses, she is now approachable and cuddly and loving? What a tradeoff! To gain the mom I needed under the cloak of Alzheimers.
I told her, as I snuggled in her neck, I woud be her wild side. As I once placed a water based tattoo on her ankle, (She wanted one.) I vowed I would be her wild side. And, as the extended family of 2002 celebrate her 69th birthday on Saturday, the 24th, I will renew my promise to both of us ...
I will always be her wild side.  1月22日 Let me clear my throat I'd like to tell you I am sure of myself. (Note to self: not all the time!) I like to think I say the "politically correct" things in every situation. Yup, that's me! I fear very few things in my corner of the universe. What bothers me is not feeling comfortable in most situations ... translasted: hurt anyone's feelings. When those occasions come along, the best thing is not to say anything. But I do hae a "slip of the tongue" disease on some instances ... !
* Take for example, one of my junior martial arts students is named Cameron. Cameron has long blond hair. I called Cameron a he. She was a girl!
* Or, asking a lady when the baby is due. She's not expecting.
* Or, asking a coworker how his wife is. His wife left him the previous week.
* Or, showing a friend something I wrote that's meant to be objective, and I wanted so much for the person to like
what I wrote. The friend takes it as an insult.
* Or, a few years ago when I was pulling my stint in the Coast Guard, I stayed with my uncle for a weekend. It turned out he didn't approve of me sleeping with my boyfriend (now my husband) in the same room under his roof. He told Ma so, and I had barely returned to my barracks room when I got her call. She told me he didn't like the set up. (My uncle--now deceased--was attracted to men.) I quipped "Well! He slept with his (boyfriend) too!" Needless to say, my mother didn't talk to me for about a week!
As long as I am human, guarding my flippant tongue (or my discriptive pen) won't always be possible. I take a risk if I am relaying a fact or a point even if it causes a person to squirm a little. I am aware I cannot please every one. It's a good thing to be pushed and made uncomfortable a litte bit. If that is the outcome, maybe a hidden truth or an encouraging wisdom is afoot! Anything is possible. The worse thing that can happen is the timing of something that needed to be spoken.
Something not spoken or written is just a statement waiting to be known ..
 1月18日 It's the way you look at things! I woke up this morning to a surprise .. snow! Or, this area's version of it. (Looks more like dust!) I had become a skeptic when the "S" word is mentioned. I was raised in Boston, where the snow is as natural as breathing. The Triad usually panics when a flurry is in the forecast. White bread and milk are quickly liberated in the grocery stores. (I have no problem finding wheat bread) Fire trucks and ambulances blare mournful wails as they race to numeroous fender benders. There's not enough yet to make a good snow ball. It's incredible! I got a whole inch in the back yard! Cool!
 I don't see what the big fuss is. My back yard looks like a cotton explosion! Ha! Oh, come one, baby! It's beautiful!
(pouting) It's cold! Well .. yeah! (still laughing) It's January. It's suppose to be. I see you don't ike it. You barely went outside.
(rolling his eyes) Geez! Ma! I have no hair down there! I can't do my business! If you didn't make me get a haircut it wouldn't be so cold! (Cee narrow her eyes at her spoiled pooch) You'e got a pad on the back porch! And besides, look at the size of the flakes! This might be the only snow we get around here this winter!
(Ignoring her, he runs to the bedroom and jumps on the bed next to Daddy. When T comes in, he has to drag the protesting dog outside.) It's cold outside ... I am in a warm house.
I have some weight to lose ... I have plenty to eat.
My job is not ideal ... I am fortunate to have a job.
My dog is spoiled ... He is one less pup in the shelter.
My parents are sick .. They have daughters who care for them.
I have many bills .. I have a way to pay for them. It may be slow, but they are getting paid.
Our children are in danger ... There are many caring adults who are guardians and champions for them.
There is so much wrong with the world .. and so much right with it!
I stumbled and fell ... I am able to get back up.
I can't see a way through my tears .. I have to dry them sooner or later so I can see.
I don't have anyone who loves me ... Yes, you do. We all do!
There is magic and hope and possibilities in a gentle smile, a comforting hug, an attentive ear, and a generous spirit. Love is the balm that heals the world.
And that's the coolest thing of all!
 12月29日 It ain't ovah .. I must confess the holidays didn't really feel like the holidays to me. After the stress of exams, the realities I didn't do as well as I thought, the push of monies I didn't have for the big day, I was depleted in more ways than one. My morale and spirit was in neutral and dipped down to my ankles. I could not even draw any energy to go to Tae Kwon Do. I felt defeated. I failed. Out of sorts. Blah, blah, blah. I cried. Went through the should'ves-could'ves-would'ves to no avail. Nothing changed. I was on a forced sabbatical from school (they forced me .. I didn't cut it and I'm suspended for a semester). My ego twinges just thinking about it.
Also, I had to come to terms with my marriage. I am not "into" the Husband as I should be. Deep down, I know if it wasn't for my beautiful sons, I wouldn't be writing this as an entry. It's not like I would be the "first" sister in my family divorced. I am just a guilty type who feels terrible when I have caused anyone unhappiness. I am not fooling anyone. My sons are most caring and loving. They sense my hesitations but do not say anything. I know they want me to be happy. I am a woman who has difficult decisions to make in the future. For now, I am a gifted actress!
I cannot balance everyone's expectations, nor was I very good at concentrating on myself. That was the base of my problem. I had to learn how to do it.
Since I am on this break, (I return to my job Tuesday) I will be nuturing and caring for myself holistically. Parts of me are scattered about. I know how difficult this year has been. I have been brave about the burn trauma. Hey! I love my new "tat" .. it's so cool. Yet, it had thrown me for a loop and, as my dad would say, there were "consequences" all around it. Mayhap, I was suppose to ride this particular trail this way so I would discover things I had to. I was suppose to, right? I will take the next few months meditating on how to continue in the fall. My writing is hardly going to cease! (Thanks, everyone for checking on me and sending me those positive vibes!) I get to kick up my workouts. I gave myself various presents, including a membership to WW to tackle the last 10 - 15 pounds. Once the uglies were purged from my body, I felt this delicious sense of newness and wonder and curiousness on what's going to happen "next" .. I know how much I enjoy academia, so that's never going to be far from my mind. In the fall, I start again! (But it won't be at A&T! I took a razor blade and scratched any trace of it off my car, and those fool shirts are in the trashcan!) HA! At least I never have to take Algebra again in this lifetime! I need an institution that works with the unique attitudes of an adult student.
My life is what it is, but there's so many opportunities for magic and wonder and gratefulness. I know that Spirit's got a plan for me. I'm just taking a detour! Ha! Like going out with my sister and dancing! Maybe with my shoes off! Salsa, anyone?
 12月18日 Six more days .. I am a changeling. I have traveled many years and lived many lifetimes. I had entered this sector as a little human. I lived as a sixteen-year-old lovestruck teenage girl. I lived in the ranks of the U. S. Coast Guard. I volunteered as a married woman. My body has housed human younglings. I have deciphered images and phonetics into groupings called poetry. To date, I am a student in a intergalactic school of intense education. I am four score and five years old. I am responsible for males in a structure called a home. I manage a job to get a coil called a paycheck. I jump around and express myself through excercise and dancing. I scream, look fierce, and strike at the real or imagined through a portal called Tae Kwon Do. I have a day-old sensor called a nose stud. (OUCH!) while loosing some others called a "bad hair cut". A novice barber did not know the difference between a "trim" and a "cut". (More eye make up for a while.) My amused companion in this alternate reality is a member of a furry species called a shepherd/collie.
I am Cee. My mission: manuever my way through a time called "the holidays"!
I've got six days left before the big day arrives. I am waiting for a check from my good grades -- most of them, anyway! Did I tell you I got that "C" in Algebra!? I'll deal with the flags after the holidays. Onlines aren't for me ...
Back to the subject. I am reimbursed for the semester, and that check is on its way. I'll start the shopping Wednesday or Thursday. I have my list ready. I know what I will get the guys. Now, for my biggest challenge. Finding a companion for my companion. Kovu is the sweetest, most loyal of pups! He's my baby. However, I know he wants a playmate like him. I am scouting online, newspapers, and the shelter for the perfect lady pup for him. Ha! This oughta be fun. He's already fighting for elbow room with his Dad on the bed. Better late than never to get into the holiday spirit, right?
I hope you are having a great time today. It may be a stressful time, or a thankful time, or an "eating all kinds of junk" time, but you are at the "best of times" right now! May love and blessings continue to travel with you today! May you have nothing but good vibes surrounding you!
 12月14日 Life as I know it It's Thursday, almost 9 am. I have on a long, white t-shirt. I had seen Nick off to school, both Kovu and I draped over the back of the sofa watching him leave. I have my arm around the sacred pup, blowing at his ear and laughing as it twitches. I almost run to my sanctuary, the kitchen. My laptop! My poor, neglected buddy is waiting for me. I sigh. Temporary quiet! Can you picture me dancing around in my kitchen with a broom listening to India.Aire's "Purify Me"? After the last few days .. Yes! I think I have reason to celebrate as the bright sunshine pours through my windows ..  I am resilient! I bounced back after a few crazy days. I've shaped and stretched around all the detours! I'm pliable and still flexable! I've cried very little and resumed an attitude of Hey! This'll pass and it will be better and worth it later on! After all, life is what's going on while I'm planning other stuff:
Monday: I took Daddy to traffic court. Now, he's 78 years young, but he has a circulation problem in his legs. I eyed him skeptially and hopefully as he ascended the steps to the court house square. He went through the security search (his suspenders made the buzzers go off and he had to have a scanner ran over him, not to mention I had to roll his pants legs up to show he wasn't a security risk! Duh!) However, he declared he needed to rest. Ahhh, here it comes. The Rankin's infamous "weak legs". His cane is a hearty tool for him, but not enough to help him. I helped him on the elevator and we rode to the second floor. Once we got off, it was evident he needed help getting to the court. A security guard noted our struggle, and, calling another guard, took Daddy on each side and escourted him to the room. I, shaking my head, followed them as the audience of bystanders watched respectfully. Blast that Rankin pride. Ya gotta love it!
Tuesday: I start a post (twice) on Nick's autism during his toddler stage. Twice I shifted the laptop and the cord slips whisper-soft, taking my typing with it. I didn't think to save my work as draft. I just give up and keep the stuff I wrote on paper to do at a later day. Why not check to see if my final grades are posted? I have a theory of what I'm going to get. My provision of returning this semester was at least a 2.0. No problem 'cept the online classes I took at home turned out to be a joke. I couldn't relax, there was too much stimuli to study, and everyone required some form of attention. Let's just say I had the guilts! So, two A, one C, and two Ds is what I'm looking for.
"Cee!" an indignant friend out there shouts. "What's up with that, girl? Why didn't you just leave and say bump it?" Cause, I sighed, it's part of being in a family. Plus, perhaps it's a form of self sabotage. ( I took Psyche, after all!) Anyway, I vow never to take an online class again in this lifetime!
I checked in an the A in writing is there. But .. I got flagged on one of the online. The wind was knocked out of me. I choked. I knew I was struggling, but ..
"Are you going to lose your job?" Mr. sensitive Husband demanded. "What are you trying to prove? It's not like you would get anything better. Job marketability is just an excuse. We're both too old for all that stress. Plus you don't think you're putting us in more debt?" (By this time, a rolling pin, if I had one would have got upside his head.) I try in vain to contact my counselor. There are circumstances I tried to address my way that didn't work.
When I went to work later, I didn't want to tell anyone why I wasn't smiling. I coudn't talk about it. I didn't want to. My friend, Debbie, hugged me and told me it would be alright. I hope it would be. I am forty-five. This does not define me, but I'm not a kid. I have my personal expectations. I know it's how I contunue from this that'll make the difference. Now, the other A and the C is what'll be my salvation.
Is school still worth it? The struggles and the challenges with a grown family? You betcha! My life is mine to work with. I refuse to allow anyone else to interfere again, 'specially 46-year-old grown folks! This is a part of me. I'll let you know how it turns out soon!
Wednesday: I allow myself to sleep late, but, the Husband demands attention at 8:30 in the morning. I must rise because he has arisen! Hmph! Let me sleep, plebian!
Once again, writing is out of the question. I am on the couch watching one of my few taped shows. I feel more positive this mornin. No matter what, I will press on. Life is exciting. I want this too much. I have faith it'll all turn out O.K.
Christmas shopping for me is next week. Nick is wondering why there is only two presents under the tree. Don't worry, I calm him. You'll have presents there soon.
Today: As I said, I was dancing around the kitchen. I feel great. Ko is dozing in the back door. The Husband is yelling at a tv show. I am rubbing my arm. It's sensitive to the colder weather. What's with the Black Belt? Patrick knows. **BWG** I'm going to Tae Kwon Do noon today. I stayed away from the studio for the last four months. I couldn't take a chance that my arm would be kicked. I was working on my steps to Third Dan (Man) .. 3rd degree Black Belt. With the down time, I get to practice! Yippee!!!
Will I keep doing it? You betcha! The black belt, like life, is an ongoing process. There are stops and starts, delays, situation, pain, ebbs and flows, like water around rocks. I am allowed to be tough and soft. I can express myself and calm myself. The last few months, I have rationalized that I will do something else; I've outgrown it; I should seek something else. Why, when this is part of my heart?
T told me last week I reinvent myself all the time. I do. There is a lot of life to enjoy. I don't think it's not worth living, do you?
Now, let my A and C come on! I don't want to be forced to lay out a semester, but if I do? I will cry and be pissed off, but I will do it again!
Watch what I tell ya!
11月28日 Returning to my Roots Sometimes, it's hard to "be yourself" when someone close to you is protesting.
I am "Wilma" and Terry is "Fred". I am very outgoing, flighty, and spirited/spiritual. Terry is old fashioned, stolid, and has definite ideas on what a woman should be/should look like/etc. Anyway, if you weren't sure we are opposites, you will be soon!
About six years ago, I had beautiful healthy hair. I had dreadlocks. They were as nature intended my hair to be. My coiled, nappy (and Lord! I do mean nappy!) hair wove and intertwined into intricate ropes cropping all over my head. I had so much fun with them, when my shocked folicles got the message. If you know someone or are somebody who has/had them, you identify with what I'm saying. There's a mystique about them. The hair is not only spongy and springy, they follow their own devices and their own way. The many colors within each lock reflected with vibrant life. Even when I attempted to tame them with a ponytail, there was a joy all their own. I understood how hair was a girl's crowning glory.
Not to say, there has not been protests along the way .. my husband will always be one. My mom was another. I remember telling her (since I have to ease people for any changes concerning me), and she gasped "You want to look like Whoopi Goldberg?" (Years later, when Alzheimers has its hond on her, she ran her fingers through my hair. I was stunned! I snuggled closer to her that evening.)
I work in a somewhat conservative job. Dreads were not something seen (at all) on the heads of anyone. I recall a time, a man (who was old enough to know better) if I was from Africa. Uhhhh, right! I lived in a part of Africa called Boston! Duh!) Surprisingly, the bolder of black women would cautiously, gently suggest I go to her beautician to help grow my hair .. straight! Uhh, before the hot comb and perm, how did black women wear their hair??
 Another incident happened when I was in downtown Chapel Hill (Yes, where the UNC Tarheels call home.) This spacey, yet unkept brother walked up to me (he seemed like he'd been dipping one time too often in ganja!) and wanted to make me his african queen. I was shocked, but my friend Debbie pulled me with her.
I won't lie. In spite of the number of the dreaded that I passed, I was very special and out of the ordinary in my small corner of Greensboro. I would get nods of approval from the young brothers and wondering queries from the women who just knew they could not be patient enough to allow their hair to intertwine around itself to form such a statement.
By now, you're asking the obvious question .. if you loved them that much, what happened?
I was dumb, bored, and I thought it was time for a change!
I cut them (the only way to get rid of locks is to cut them down to the scalp) and, once I had grown about an inch of hair, returned to the braided extensions, the perms, the hair color (my true vice!) only to conclude I had the ultimate style. It was a statement and it punctuated who I am as a person. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't more because I wore my hair like that .. I had seemed to tap into the gold that was me.
So, my extentions are gone, the bleached blonde is cut out (they were cool, but broke my hair off.) and I have hair no longer than my sons'. However, in a year or so, the groove will thread together (chemical free) and be in the place that nature intended. No more drama!
Since this an excercise of patience, this aids me in my quest through each semester. And what could be more nurturing than learning amongst so many dreads within a HBCU! Not to mention, all women can't have hair like Jayne Kennedy!! I never did.
HA! Is life great or what?? This one thing I can correct! 10月29日 Meeting Marilyn Marilyn came to Greensboro for a few days. She had a conference the last few days. On her last evening in the city, we'd decided to meet for dinner and get to know each other. I'd gotten over my oral surgery, and I'd stayed with my parents Friday, so nothing would get in the way.
Saturday turned out very windy. I ran around doing my usual Saturday errands -- getting lost in Walmart, in Garden Ridge, half entertaining sis #2, and wondering not for the first time if she will ever be happy. Sometimes, I wonder why she bothers coming here even if it is for having a playmate for my nephew, Marques. Lord knows, I never want to push myself on anyone, but I don't want to feel like it in my own home!
But the best part of the day was at five thirty. Sure, I was running late, as usual if you know me! Marilyn was there before I was! Sis #2 and the kids weren't back yet, but I'd made my plans. I was dressed in black on black, simply because I didn't have to iron the pieces I chose. I had on my glasses, but I didn't look too bad. The Four Seasons Towne Center was about ten minutes from me by the highway, and, driving about 60 - 65 mph, it didn't take long at all!
We decided to meet at the Outback Steak House. I arrived excited, slightly out of breath, and nervous. I asked the young hostess where she was. The hostess led me to the right, and an immediate left. Marilyn was sitting the forth booth on my right. I squinted. She stood up and I tried not to be a little kid and bowl her over. We hugged! Oh-My-Gosh!
Marilyn is petite-sized and my height. She was wearing the standard "conference outfit" of a coat, blouse, and black skirt. She wore glasses above her friendly smile. Her soft ash-tinted hair floated around her face. She's exactly what I'd pictured her to be. Frankly, I wasn't worried about her! I was hoping to make a good impression!
I guess I did. After we both had water (she also had coffee, since she was leaving for Virginia after dinner, and my extra was a Long Island Iced Tea), we ordered our dinner and that was secondary to sharing what we've read about each other. She was a previous Olympic medalist! She had an Irish Setter. She has a student I would love to meet (Marshelle) as well as an international women's group she founded. We talked about the up and downs about being older students (i.e. studying, becoming "mentors" instead of a "parent", enjoying the process in general) Also, we talked about how intersting the blogging process is. It's a surprising way to grow and get to meet people.
And I bought my camera! I was ready for the picture. I'm so glad I got it!
Time flew by, and it was very close to seven. Marilyn had to leave and I had to get home. (Terry gets home around seven o'clock.)
So, here we are, both reaching for our cards to pay for our meals, and (gasp) I didn't feel my debit card. Man! I called Terry (who was on his way home and about five minutes away) to come with his card. (Grrrr! It had to happen -- that "something's gonna happen" happen!). I played it off as long as I could, telling Marilyn what happened, when I felt it! It was there. Oh, brother! I called Terry back and told him I found it. Well, he said, I'm just about there. Good! You can meet Marilyn!
As we left and exited the Outback, the wind realy had kicked up! Terry pulled up in his favorite toy, his Monte Carlo SS. He spoke to her, growled at me because I got braids put back in my hair (hey! It was a special occasion! <bwg>), and, taking the camara from me, prepped to take the picture, but the flash didn't work. The battery died! Waaaaahhhhh! There goes my picture!
I truly enjoyed her company, and I hope we can work it out where I can see her in her natural Virginia habitat. It adds a little to the blog friendship. It's just too bad I'm not going to the same school as she!
It was worth every bit of yesterday!
And you know, Sheila lives right here in NC, and Fay's just 5 hours, and Tysley ..  10月24日 Flirting - In defense of a Lost Art
It's a flaw. It's not proper. It's shameless. Southern belles do it. Thugs do it. Young ladies do it. Old Players do it.
My dad still does it. I've notice TJ doing it. And (gasp) Nick is doing it.
I'm talking about flirting.
You know. The shy smile. The slight raise of an eyebrow. The sweeping of hair behind the ears. The penetrating look as if you're the only one in the whole room. The slight touch. The tender squeeze of a shoulder. The gentle brush of fingertips. I submit to you that flirting is a lost art. It can be as slight as a stray breeze on a summer day. It can be as subtle as sliding a tip to an incredibly wonderful waiter. It can be as shocking as that attractive man or woman flashing a smile of recognition. It's delicious, it's intoxicating, and it's a lift to a spirit.
I probably inherited this from my dad. And, as a consummate romantic it's a part of my arsenol. Earth Mamas do flirt, folks. Don't let the titles fool ya!
Take as an example, my Dad. Before they'd both become ill, I would take Ma and Daddy to his or her respective doctor's appointments. Daddy would grin his most charming grin, and become most solicitous to the lady in question. He would be rather pleased with himself after that. Gloating a little bit look at Ma and say "You see that, Mable? You see how they come to Rankin? You see how she wants me?"
She would roll her eyes and snort "She can have you!"
The daughters grew up hearing his playful banter about "running off with a Norwegian girl, because she would know how to treat him." When I got older, I would refer to these moments as "dillusions of gradeur". Daddy has a lot of those!
The Rankin charm is alive and well. I'm a smiler and a hugger, it's true. It's an aura and welcoming karma that comes from deep inside me. It also could be I'm a "comely" woman! OK, so be it! When I smile, I show a lot of teeth. Nature designed it for me. Unfortunately, I have more male friends than women. It's been that way since I was in grade school. That doesn't help my status on the job one bit! I love wearing kurtas on some days and my notorious bosom-touching shirts on others. (I work hard at keeping my body to a healthy size!) I like to be relaxed whereever I am. I was very shy, even though I love talking to people. I had to work a long time not to look people in the kneecaps Being an active listener is just polite! Isn't it? And yes, I admit there are those who blatently take it to the extreme. In my younger days, I didn't take it there. I had class! <grin>
Sometimes the charm thing is charisma. Even then, it can backfire. I'm a late bloomer to the nuances between guys and dolls. A couple of years ago, a male coworker shook my hand, and ran a nail down the center of my palm. It tickled and I snatched it away. I mentioned it to a male friend who stared at me incredulously.
"Are you kidding? You don't know?!"
"No. What about it?"
Once he told me, I didn't smile for quite a while!
Another male coworker informed me I smile "too much". "It's an invite. It's a come-on", he counseled me. "You just can't smile at everyone. It sends the wrong signal."
"Well! I don't see why not! I'm not taking these bums home with me!" I huffed. "So, the acceptable status quo is to look evil?"
Yup!
Hmph!
The problem with that theory is when I'm having a bad day, I'm asked why I'm not smiling! And, people, if I'm happy, why should I hide it?
I look at it this way, I'm fortunate enough to have great friends who watch over me and "protect me from myself." And sons, and a Wonder Dog named Kovu .. even though that's the last thing on my mind when I'm walking him! I guess he knows me better than I know myself!
If you flirt, friends, make sure you are respectable and show 'em the love.
 Cee 10月16日 Good afternoon, Spacers! Been loaded down with classwork lately. I'd had my Algebra test earlier and I feel so-so. Yuk! My household, as you can imagine, is very busy and noisy. I did study some at my parents but there, still, are some distractions. My dad, the 78-year-old fox, tries his best to run things as he did once before. However, his body is a lot older, and my mom is heavier than he. She, my little brown woman, is a diabetic/Alzhiemers patient, and it's amazing how both of them cut up! I can't get too deep with those two. **grin** My mom was a pistol, a true h*ll on wheels! What a difference in this little chocolate woman! She's cuddly right now. All we do is enjoy her gentleness ..
 (Kovu pulls on Cee) What a minute, WooWoo! Kovu's going to have a story for you tomorrow. It's about his 5-K race from this past Saturday. Hmph! I just know we came in last place. (Cutting her eyes towards the WonderDog)
Next to a cracked tooth (me), a musical (DreamGirls on campus), keeping up with homework, etc., my excercise is sporadic at best. I'm sure things will get on track eventually. I wanted to ride my bike, but the rain's been sneaking around the Triad. There's a few of you who's asked how I "do it". I just do. There's no magic trick. Some things had to go, because this is important. I also have divine help, I can testify to that! **grin** I'm working to what purpose He has for me. I feel it, and I don't question it.
When was the last time you told someone you appreciate the magic he/she brings to your life? I try to do it often. Call someone up, and let them know! Who knows? You may bring a smile to his/her lips, and make their day!
Sending "Hot Coffee" love to all of you!! 10月12日 Working Woman I have expensive tastes (a dog, two sons, a house, books, 5-Ks,), so I have to support my standards. I've been working at the cigarette factory for over sixteen years. My idealistic mind and I've been warring about this for years. I don't smoke. How could I help to manufacture cancer sticks? My rational side took over by telling me I need the money!
So here I am.
I live only three minutes from the job, but somehow, I'm always barely making it. It's another of life's mysteries. Newport is the best seller. Kents and Trues are made there, also. As much as the cartons cost, I'm still amazed we're in business.
I'm a quality control inspector. I make sure there aren't any tears or stems or holes in the cigarette rod, and that the filter's not going to fall off on someone's lap. A smoker wants a good quality product, so I have to help in the process. I didn't realize how many components go into the perfect cigarette. I check for problems at the making part (the side that actually makes the cigs) of a machine. The Making operator, depending on which machine I'm at, is either actively working, sitting bored out of his/her skull, or asleep. What I do is try to help stop the problem before it gets packed in a pack. Customers won't go for an inferior product.
Roughly 500 people work the second shift. It's a loud, noisy ant farm, with bright lights, pungent tobacco, humming machines, utilities workers, inspectors, and maintenance personnel milling in and down the eleven isles that make up the production floor.
Like most working environments, there are all types to make the world flow. It's a Peyton Place for sure. You know who hangs out with who, and assume the rest. I'm categorized the crazy girl, the hippie girl, the daydreamer, the health nut, the girl from Africa (for the years I had dreads), and Lord know what else. (I've been caught necking with another employee, and I was on first shift at the time!) I love people, but I'm not a cliquish kind of girl. When it's break time, I'm with me-myself-and-I. I'm genuine, and I try to say the same. When's there's gossip, I'm gone. I don't say too much of substance. It'll be twisted and maimed an hour later.
I carry my own lunch 1) monitor what goes into my body and 2) to avoid the cafeteria. Too grease and fat laden for me.
Like many places, there are up and down days. I've come to the job calm, and by the time I pass through the door almost immediately tense up. Those days, the negative aura is thick. I try to stay positive about it all. I suceed at it most of the time! I'm at work most of time, so I'd better make the best of it as much as I can.
After sixteen years, maybe I'll make twenty. Who knows?
8月29日 Being me my wayKaleidoscope:
1. A small tube containing bits of colored glass reflected
by mirrors so that symetrical patterns appear when the tube is rotated.
2: Anything that constantly changes.
*******************
< 
It's a safe assumption to say I usually freefall most ideas that tweak my imagination. I don't demur on any subject. In fact, if I don't answer verbally, I'll express it in ink, keyboard, or physically. If I feel like doing it, I will. Where's the fun in hesitation?
I'ts not to say I don't have reservations, because I do. I have life lessons, good and the total opposite, that's molded me. Sometimes, I fear I'll miss that "still small voice" if I don't tone it (my life) down a little, for a moment, anyway. That, howevery, isn't the case because the Master makes no mistakes. Hopefully, I will hear and get the word when the time is right. Since I'm here blogging proves I've been hearing positive things. Not to mention, "toning down" isn't me.
When I try to define myself, I come up short. I left something out, wanted to leave something out, thereforre being false and lying because I did. I spent a lot of my life erasing what I thought were errors and out-of-the-ordinary things that make me me. It didn't prove anything but one thing. If I judge myself so strict, how would I show other how to treat me? How, next to the devil, could I truly define myself if I didn't love all the pieces? I know 98% of them; the others you'll discover with me!
Let's start here .. in 1961, I was born to my mom and dad, a pale, sienna little colored girl with a cap of red hair. I guess that was unusual, because my dad, a handsome, dapper, slightly-built, peered at his first born daughter, totally confused. I didn't have my parents' coloring. Daddy was shaded terra-cotta, Ma tinted smooth Hershey's Chocolate. He questioned the nurse for a few moments to make sure.
"Dang, Daddy!" I teased him. "What were you trying to do, give me back?"
My dad, ignoring my joking, huffed "You were a strange looking young'un." (Luckily, my youngest sister same out with similar DNA features, so if he had any doubt, that was that!)
My parents are conservative, so, when I do something "un-Rankin" (my maiden name), I tell them I'm their wild side. I'm a rather colorful person, and that attitude is on my physical body. Let's take, for example, my tattoos. I have approximately ten of them, and not in places that my young folks (my parents) can't see. The prettiest one is my nickname etched in flowers and hearts. "Cee" is my nickname. ("Claudelle" is my birthname. Daddy adopted it from a movie title, "Claudelle Inglish", in 1960. ) I have an anklet of roses and thorns around my left ankle. That one took two days for the swelling to go down. (Later, I lost my "cool mom" moniker when TJ got his tattoo for his 18th birthday. I couldn't watch the needle going in his skin!)
My latest body art is my nose stud, something I wanted since 1974. My favorite teacher, Miss Nanguaya, was my english teacher at Roslindale Jr. High School in Boston. Her african pride was displayed in celebratory burnt oranges, turn-my-back-on-the-establisment turbans, and brightly festive skirts and dresses that made the classroom fade in thankful dullness. Her voice, an articulate and musically pitched alto, was no nonsense. The stud was subtle, tiny, and it winked from her broad nostril like a magic little star. I knew it would transform me, a bespeckled , knock-kneed little girl, into something intersting, exotic, and arresting.
Later, I found out the stud enhances who I already am! I'm a protective mom, a joyous Kovu owner, I worrier, a free spirit, a hippie girl (sans the drugs!), a loyal friend, a peace maker, a procrastinator, a true romantic in every sense of the word, a moody, hard-on-myself-oversensitive perfectionist, I listen much better than I talk, and that bugs people out .. no one's quite sure I'm paying attention! .. I'm a burgeoning artist, past and present; I yearn to do and be more and there's no shame in my game about that! I love living in the light, and searching for what-I-don't-know in the quiet blancket of darkness. I usually find a sliver of moonbeams, and that's more can I could hope for! I give lavish hugs, and I'm a notorious flirt. Quietly, mind you, but that is all my dad's fault! *Grin*
Smalls bits of courage allow me to live one day at a time. It's the only way to be!
October 2nd:
Is my birthday, and who sez
45 ain't sexy!?
"Claudelle" means "the lame one", and no, I'm not crazy about the meaning! Hmph! But the fun thing is looking up that once dreaded name on Google!
Claudelle, Street Celebrity: She's my sister, flamboyant and thoughtful. She's beautiful!
Claudelle's Diary: My first recorded weight loss journal (fifteen years ago.)
8月7日 Dang it! What in the world is wrong with my Player? I have an account on Filelodge.com, and I can't upload a freakin' thing! I love to have a mood set for visits, but the silence ain't getting it! Next to a peace sign and a VW bug, music rules!
I will not throw my laptop .. I will not throw my laptop!
8月6日 Marlboro Country When I think of Marlboro Country, I think of all I dream of and all I want to be.
I would be a proud as an eagle or as adventurous as a hawk or as wise as an owl. I would stand on the highest mountain or gaze for hours across the bluest waters. I would hunt for Pegasus; and when I find him, I would laugh out loud in lusty abandon as he'd gallop among the fluffy coulds. And if I couldn't find him, I would search for the most spectactularly colorful hot-air balloon and float suspended in the breathtaking stillness of the heavens. I would sail the seas with sly, devious Captain Jack Sparrow! I would be a famous spy. I would be one of a few female scribes in Cleopatra's Egypt!
In Marlboro Country, I'd be a national DJ, rivaling Delilah, Tom Joyner, and the late Wolfman Jack. I'd be working in the renewed pulse of downtown Greensboro, bringing life to a city has has yet to live its full potential. I would own a yoga studio complete with holistic items to promote natural wellness. I would be a published Word Artist ahd keep my day job. I would finish the Marine Corps Marathon.
In Marlboro Country, there wouldn't be no such things "war", "perfection", "hunger" or "hate". Each child would hold innocence a little longer, and stave off the jaded emotions one adopts when he matures. Smiles would heal a sad soul, and hurtful words would be slower to escape from angry lips. We would "live as one" instead of asking each other "what's going on?"
I would ask Rod if he thought I was sexy. I would jump up on stage and shake it when Barry sung "Bandstand". I would be on the 70s Soul Train with my coolest threads, and, along with Don Cornelius, wish all of America "love, peace, and soul!"
I still would've had my first kiss with Michael Matthews at church.
I would tell the Marlboro Man that smoking did cause his cancer.
If I wasn't destined to be in heaven with my Savior, I would ask to be a star in His sky.
I would find my guardian angel, and apologize profusely to her for being such a brat all these years!
And I would continue to dream and see myself scattering my bursts of imagination in the deepest, rich parts of my mind, for why should I always share what I'm thinking or what I could become. I believe in that falling star .. I have faith in whatever He has in store for me.
Dreams are reality that hasn't happened .. yet!
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