tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35638387656437029942024-02-07T18:46:50.807-08:00Whatever Comes To Mind...A mother's daily journal of facts, opinions, hopes, and dreamsLaylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-60827727435207023952010-12-14T21:11:00.000-08:002010-12-14T21:11:49.660-08:002011 Is My Year to FlourishI've gotta do some house cleaning, and what I mean by that is that I have to rid my thoughts of negativity and rid my space of negative people. I'm adopting a mentality of win, and I'm tapping into my soul and I'm bringing out the woman whom God has meant for me to be. Like Mary Mary declare in song, "It's the God in me." The God in me has no concept of fear because fear and faith cannot coexist in the same plane. I've spent most of my adult life operating in fear mode and it's lead me down a road of depression, regrets, and life unfulfilling. From now on I'm choosing to be lead by faith and that supernatural ability called the holy spirit. <br />
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The upcoming year has a lot in store for me and my family and each day I take the time to pray and meditate on God's promises. Jeremiah 29:11 reads: "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." That promise alone is enough to make me dance and shout. The upcoming year will be my year to finally live the life that I have been born to live. I will direct more energy on things that matter: kingdom building, my family, and generating wealth.<br />
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As I stated in the beginning, there is no room for negativity, cynicism, or mediocracy in my life. My circle of friends or "people I know," is getting narrower by the day. I'm not complaining because a good house cleaning is exactly what I need. I'm gonna keep it real. Gone are people who do nothing but take up space in my phone. Gone are those who lie when it's convenient to them. Gone are the people who lack ambition. My delete button will be broken when its all said and done. It's all Good, because God has planted within me a new seed and when His Season comes, (I say His because God does everything on His time) I will flourish. Glory be to God!Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-46152537254170783462010-11-09T22:16:00.000-08:002010-11-09T22:16:10.873-08:00My Love letter to Layla and MilesSince the day you two came into my life, my days have been filled with nothing but love. I am overjoyed and my heart sings when I wake up in the morning and see the two of you sleeping, peacefully. Your cherub little faces are all nestled on top of your pillows and if I could freeze that moment in time, I would. I would forever hold your innocence and sweet cheeks in the palm of my hands. Nothing gives me more satisfaction in knowing you two are happy, healthy, safe, and content.<br />
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Your father deserves a father of the year award for taking care of you with the same nurturing, love, and attentiveness that a mother normally gives. You're never without hugs, kisses, and a little discipline here and there. You two are my mighty little warriors for God. As your mother, I promise to teach you the gems to living a long prosperous life. Gem #1: Always know that although you have earthly parents who would lay down their lives for you, you have a friend in Jesus who loves you and who's paid the ultimate sacrifice. Gem #2: Respect yourselves, always know your self worth. Gem #3: When you respect yourselves, you automatically respect others if they are deserving. Gem #4: Exercise and maintain a healthy diet. You are what you eat, if your diet is horrible, then your health is compromised, and when your health is compromised, you're not in a good state of well being. Gem#5: Be a blessing to someone you don't know either through your time or through your giving. Lastly Gem#6: Have a burning desire to go through life only getting the best out of it.<br />
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I understand you will have trying times, but be equipped to handle them. And if you need someone to talk to, mommy and daddy will be there to listen for as long as you two need us. And even if Mommy and Daddy are no longer around just know the love of God is greater than the both of us. <br />
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So Layla, my sweet little angel, your strong will has the ability to put mom through a rigorous test at times, but I am so blessed that God allowed you and Miles to use my body to bring forth your precious little lives into this world.<br />
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Miles, my merciful warrior, my mighty-man-of-God you and your sister have made life for me more meaningful. When I get rejection after rejection, when my calls get ignored, my emails don't get returned, when I'm sharing and doors get slammed in my face. I think of you two asleep, peacefully in the bed and I wipe my tears, say a prayer of victory and get myself going. I'll take a beating so you guys won't have to. I'll get laughed at and talked about so you guys won't have to. Layla and Miles, I want to do whatever it takes to make you proud of me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFeFEt7MQnwerpBwph9du0qZ5mvEVxx-utBzCLegMgardcAoEW41ZSEW3XEui2YPKryDizONrdpD8ymiC9MgoQ-Xyik-SKOtsPiz-ZLC9lYjzPgtd6KbGyoeB5BmzMnEJgt24zCjStO8/s1600/DSC00671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAFeFEt7MQnwerpBwph9du0qZ5mvEVxx-utBzCLegMgardcAoEW41ZSEW3XEui2YPKryDizONrdpD8ymiC9MgoQ-Xyik-SKOtsPiz-ZLC9lYjzPgtd6KbGyoeB5BmzMnEJgt24zCjStO8/s320/DSC00671.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-24572498669874744712010-11-07T20:15:00.000-08:002010-11-07T20:15:50.430-08:00Team K.I.M.Since I started Galliencafe, I realize the majority of my success will come from people I don't know. When I first started the business back in September I called my list of friends, 56 to be exact, and asked their support for my business by buying my products. Only five of them made good on their promise. I thank God I now have the power to K.I.M. keep it moving. When I hear excuses and they come as natural as breathing, I just say, "no problem, thank you very much" and keep it moving. I am in a position to collect "no's" and that's just fine. It's a beautiful thing to get the door slammed in your face when you try to give out free samples. I love to call cell phones and listen to them ring for minutes at a time then hang up only to have that person call back. When they realize it's me, they either hang up or find a reason to get off the phone. I don't take it personally, I just keep it moving. My business team has adopted that same method, to keep it moving...whether it be product, rejected phone calls, excuses, or people. An ancient Chinese proverb says, "Be not afraid of going slowly, but be afraid only of standing still." When we stand still the momentum drops, but when we keep it moving, everybody wins.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMflI2PmaDs5f1GB73Nq-xvZOCwI-ZT_3k6L3VLsDyzcqfknSpDy_4rACKQx2Ro4KPgwMIRgcZyQH_ry9yMV91-DdUJ4cLyPCA_e8-PkI8oJtby314z43zfeWNkdcWoNAtAP-9iOfhyphenhyphenY/s1600/DSC00935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMflI2PmaDs5f1GB73Nq-xvZOCwI-ZT_3k6L3VLsDyzcqfknSpDy_4rACKQx2Ro4KPgwMIRgcZyQH_ry9yMV91-DdUJ4cLyPCA_e8-PkI8oJtby314z43zfeWNkdcWoNAtAP-9iOfhyphenhyphenY/s320/DSC00935.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've (third from left) only been in the business since September 2010 and this is my team. Not present are two team members from the Houston area, three from Huntsville, Texas, one member in Kansas and one member in New York.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-23152644443516503632010-11-07T08:04:00.000-08:002010-11-07T08:19:30.388-08:00Write the Vision, Make it plainAbout four years ago, I was sitting on the floor of my small one bedroom apartment taking account of things that happened in my life. Some things were good, and some had me going, "what the hell was I thinking?" I had seen myself go from being married at the age of 26 to being divorced at 31. I was an author of two novels which only put my name out there but I wasn't on the New York Times Bestseller's list, truth be told I couldn't even crack the top 1000 seller's list on Amazon. I was single, I was miserable, I was disgusted with the person I had become. I was the one who always inspired others but I wasn't motivated enough to inspire myself. I sank into a small depression and for a year, I had very limited communication with people outside of work.<br />
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One day I had a talk with the woman in the mirror. The only person holding me back was me. I had been blessed with a tremendous talent, I was fortunate to be employed with a company that gave me access, why was I not fulfilled? So I sat down and wrote my feelings and I remember my mom sharing a very important biblical verse to me.<br />
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Habakkuk 2:2-3 says, And the Lord answered me and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables that he may run that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry. So four years ago, I wrote down the following:<br />
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1. Have a writing career that will inspire the lives of others that will in turn have a substantial financial<br />
impact on me, my family, and my church.<br />
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2. Have a blessed marriage with a man whom God chooses for me.<br />
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3. Be blessed with a mentally and physically happy child or children.<br />
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4. Have a wonderful and affordable home filled with God's loving presence, peace, and open space.<br />
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5. Be a guest on the Oprah Winfrey Show talking about a movie based on my book.<br />
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6. Traveling the world with my husband and child(ren) without worrying about cost.<br />
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7. Becoming a guest lecturer of creative writing at University level.<br />
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8. Being an active member in my church.<br />
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9. Becoming more extroverted and less worried about what others think of me.<br />
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10. Living a life that God wants me to live that will be a blessing to my child(ren) and their off-spring.<br />
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11. Only flying one to two trips or just enough hours to keep my insurance and flight benefits.<br />
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12. Starting a ministry for those who have a creative vision but just can't seem to get started on the right<br />
path.<br />
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Since then only 3 of the following have been fulfilled. The others will come at their appointed time. In September, 2010 I launched my own healthy beverage business. I know in order for it to be successful I must command God's words to speak on my behalf. My vision is that my company, "galliencafe" thrives and become a multi-million dollar company. This will come become I have the faith and God's word says, "wait, because it will surely come, it will not tarry."<br />
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This is my season and I believe God presents you with one opportunity in order for you to achieve what His purpose is for you. All you have to do is write it down.Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-51905652675948685162010-11-02T23:10:00.000-07:002010-11-02T23:10:51.067-07:00Taking the "Me" Out of the Equation<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span>Now I realized why and how I failed at things in the past. I failed at my first marriage because I wanted all of "my" needs met and didn't care about the needs of my spouse. I failed to make a substantial living off my writing career because "I" was too scared to approach people and share my God-given talents with them. I failed to take off in a cosmetics company because I was too busy worrying about rejection and I didn't take the time to learn the fundamentals of the business. All my failures happened as a result of "me" worrying about "me." I was more worried about my "ego" than I did having money in the bank. Sometimes the enemy is within-a-me. <div><br />
</div><div>Until you take yourself out of the equation you will forever find yourself "stopping at the start," and opportunities will pass you by quicker than you can blink. Since I have embarked on my new business venture, everyday is an opportunity for me to focus on the needs of others. When I look at my husband and my two kids I am reminded why I need to get out of my comfort zone and work the business. Time is a precious thing and once it's past there's no way of turning it back. </div><div><br />
</div><div>So in September 2010 I became CEO of my own healthy beverage company, laugh if you must, scratch your head if you will...My company allows me to tune into the needs of others on a daily basis. I've discovered the formula for success and it's way beyond me. It's picking up the phone and reconnecting with a friend I haven't talked to in a long time. It's meeting a stranger and asking them something as simple as, "how are you?" because it may be the only time someone genuinely asks of their well being. I've talked to people who are dealing with lupus, I've talked to a person who suffered a heart attack, I've shared the healthy benefits of my product with them and they have been very receptive.</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBamxnQuiYVBtkwd8HcAVAZbz4EvSifiNoEKVqlk5hdMEp-fen3YKrdBe3F-Z-dJ4TIEy_ZHnJOMkR4Zq-w_6s8s5t2Cu62GrNSzJzYvuzW4ngsBtKKWl_oFJHarE9ISLB0wwj0VRqRw/s1600/DSC00921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdBamxnQuiYVBtkwd8HcAVAZbz4EvSifiNoEKVqlk5hdMEp-fen3YKrdBe3F-Z-dJ4TIEy_ZHnJOMkR4Zq-w_6s8s5t2Cu62GrNSzJzYvuzW4ngsBtKKWl_oFJHarE9ISLB0wwj0VRqRw/s320/DSC00921.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div>And so from this day forward, I will make it a habit to share my business with the world. I can no longer be a secret agent, I can longer worry about how I am going to be perceived because I know people will talk whether I'm doing good or bad. When I'm writing and sharing my stories with the world, I can't keep telling myself that I'm not good enough when I know God has given me this talent. So what if I'm scatter brained and I tend to lose my train of thought or sometime I stutter when I get overly excited I don't care anymore. Those are small things I can correct. Life is so much bigger than me. I know this now!</div><div><a href="http://www.galliencafe.organogold.com/">www.galliencafe.organogold.com</a></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-41433031595287441152010-09-03T13:53:00.000-07:002010-09-03T13:53:52.309-07:00Flowers for Miss Bobbie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBtILH4Ex1uIqaUBrnMum9boog8mDQbL_UqAKpKUyYqApLKoG55rN57ubmJ0JFO206LnMTWvU508xzOvQwNZoTKUgpofveDiAL0ctDVJQ05HJ0rd_pgzB7BuLQoFuASRMUGtb3VafEBI/s1600/DSC00882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBtILH4Ex1uIqaUBrnMum9boog8mDQbL_UqAKpKUyYqApLKoG55rN57ubmJ0JFO206LnMTWvU508xzOvQwNZoTKUgpofveDiAL0ctDVJQ05HJ0rd_pgzB7BuLQoFuASRMUGtb3VafEBI/s320/DSC00882.JPG" /></a></div>My mom has always been the spiritual/religious force in my life. Every Sunday morning my sister and I would wake up to the sounds of Brother Leroy Bryant's Gospel Show. Mom would cook a hearty breakfast before sending us off to Sunday school. Sometimes my sister and I were the only two present but mom made sure we were always there. Our relationship with God is stronger because mom made sure we had that foundation. She taught us that in life's journeys the roads aren't always easy but if you take God on the journey with you, He will bring you through it, a better person. Case in point when my parents separated and later divorced. The betrayal mom experience was very hurtful. Instead of finding ways of getting even, she took our hands and we knelt down in prayer. She used to tell us, "God isn't sleep, you reap what you sow, what may have you laughing now will have you crying later." Years later as adults we see and understand just what she meant.<br />
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I have seen times when mom did so much with so little and I know it had to have been with God's help that her bills were never late. Single-handily, she was able to pay mortgage, cheerleading camp, band camp, dental visits, new car tires and batteries, prom dresses, class rings, and still have a nice Sunday meal waiting when we got out of church. For this my mom deserves her roses, her lillies, her orchids, and birds of paradise. I listen to Marvin's sap song, "Never would have made it," with a new sense of gratitude. Thank God mom taught me a foundation that through God all things are possible. Now I'm able to pass it on to my children.Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-5478419495264411832010-06-24T12:31:00.000-07:002010-06-24T12:31:37.508-07:00Michael Jackson and His Music<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><iframe align="right" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=whate-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B002TYZKIM&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align: right; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"></iframe>June 25th marks the one year anniversary of the untimely death of Michael Jackson. I remember what I was doing the moment I heard the news. I was sitting in bed watching BET's 106 & Park when it was interrupted with breaking news. The last thing I expected to hear was that the King of Pop was dead. I cried like a baby, my then 13 month old daughter was staring at me wandering what the hell was going on. The world was robbed of a remarkably talented soul, a one-of-a-kind spirit.</span></span></span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My love affair with Michael Jackson dealt mainly with his music. My favorite album would have to be the "Off the Wall," album. Whenever I hear, "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough," I think of the summer of 1980. I remember playing, "red light, green light," in the middle of the street, going as far as I can on the merry-go-round, eating fresh cut watermelon and sitting on the porch combing my dolls' hair. As a five year old, the world is my oyster and Michael Jackson's voice is pure magic.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When "Thriller," hit the scene in 1983, my third grade reading teacher played the tape everyday in class for us. When Michael Jackson moonwalked on the Motown 25 special, he catapulted to another level. I couldn't get enough of his music I even wrote a letter to his fan club asking if he could come to my hometown (pop. 25,000) to perform at the local skating rink (how cute).</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Michael had an extensive music library, but if I had to pick five of my favorites they would be:</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. Can't Help It (Off the Wall album)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2. Don't Stop Til You Get Enough (Off the Wall)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3. Human Nature (Thriller)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4. Liberian Girl (Bad)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. I Just Can't Stop Loving You (Duet with Siedah Garrett on Bad album)</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rest in peace, Michael. I can't get enough of your music. I Wish I had the opportunity to see you perform. Maybe in the next life.</span></span></span></span><br />
<div><br />
</div></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-19764925572713161852010-05-12T14:43:00.000-07:002010-05-12T14:43:24.116-07:00When You Know You've Found the One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_4THdScsEksP840qFahjV1U-kRN0n_WXQ8hEPaEYCg2xYsAUOGStkwv1Kbg0zvU7WV8zlyG8RpS7OGe5NQ7QR0dqVPiK8geTg9MkoONlit3keWf7lQvzbkvzY0l3l04BtrgOckZryOQ/s1600/Gallien-1025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_4THdScsEksP840qFahjV1U-kRN0n_WXQ8hEPaEYCg2xYsAUOGStkwv1Kbg0zvU7WV8zlyG8RpS7OGe5NQ7QR0dqVPiK8geTg9MkoONlit3keWf7lQvzbkvzY0l3l04BtrgOckZryOQ/s320/Gallien-1025.jpg" /></a></div>Today is our wedding anniversary and I am proud to say that in the four years my husband and I have been together, we managed to never tire of each other. Each day is just as exciting as it was during our courtship. My husband still opens doors for me, he still pulls out my chair. Everyday before leaving work, he calls to make sure me and the kids are okay. He's the type of father that will get up at 5:00 o'clock in the morning and make a run to the supermarket to pick up a box of pampers. He's spontaneous, he's nurturing (I can't say that about all men), and he doesn't leave the house without giving us a kiss. I love that he's a good listener, a provider and what's more important, he's a mighty man of God. Before I met him, I had given up on marriage. After my divorce from husband number one, I told myself I was going to live my life being happily single. Little did I know, God had better plans for me. I met my husband on his job and little did we know we attended the same church. We would casually chat in passing until one day he decided to give me his number. I finally called him two days later and since that day we've never gone a day without talking to each other. Some people are blessed to go through life with a God-given helpmate. I consider myself to be blessed to have a mate who I enjoy coming home to, he's not perfect but we are perfect for each other. When do you know you've found the one? When the two of you compromise without hesitation and when you constantly think of that person the same way you did when you initially met. I knew my husband was the one...during both pregnancies I'd awake in the middle of the night and hear him whispering a prayer to God that his children are born healthy and happy. He is the one, the only one tailor-made for me.Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-84390762619060137922010-05-07T12:58:00.000-07:002010-05-07T12:58:31.699-07:00Came across this on FB...Check it outYou can't enter any other country illegally why is it racism when you do it here!<br />
Let me see if I have this correct...<br />
-IF YOU CROSS THE MEXICAN BORDER YOU PAY A FINE AND ARE DEPORTED, THE SECOND TIME YOU ARE JAILED FOR UP TO 10 YEARS.<br />
-IF YOU CROSS THE FRENCH BORDER YOU ARE FINED,JAILED AND THEN DEPORTED.<br />
-IF YOU ENTER ENGLAND ILLEGALLY YOU ARE FINED 10,000 AND DEPORTED<br />
IF YOU ENTER ITALY ILLEGALLY YOU ARE FINED 13000 EURO AND DEPORTED<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE NORTH KOREAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU GET 12 YEARS HARD LABOR.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE IRANIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU ARE DETAINED INDEFINITELY.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE AFGHAN BORDER ILLEGALLY, YOU GET SHOT.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE NORTH KOREAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU GET 12 YEARS HARD LABOR.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE IRANIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU ARE DETAINED INDEFINITELY.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE AFGHAN BORDER ILLEGALLY, YOU GET SHOT.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE SAUDI ARABIAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU WILL BE JAILED.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE CHINESE BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU MAY NEVER BE HEARD FROM AGAIN.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE VENEZUELAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU WILL BE BRANDED A SPY AND YOUR FATE WILL BE SEALED.<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE CUBAN BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU WILL BE THROWN INTO POLITICAL PRISON TO ROT.<br />
<br />
<br />
- IF YOU CROSS THE U.S. BORDER ILLEGALLY YOU GET................................<br />
1 - A JOB,<br />
2 - A DRIVERS LICENSE,<br />
3 - SOCIAL SECURITY CARD,<br />
4 - WELFARE,<br />
5 - FOOD STAMPS,<br />
6 - CREDIT CARDS,<br />
7 - SUBSIDIZED RENT OR A LOAN TO BUY A HOUSE,<br />
8 - FREE EDUCATION,<br />
9 - FREE HEALTH CARE,<br />
10 - A LOBBYIST IN WASHINGTON,<br />
11 - BILLIONS OF DOLLARS WORTH OF PUBLIC DOCUMENTS PRINTED IN YOUR LANGUAGE,<br />
12 - AND THE RIGHT TO CARRY YOUR COUNTRY'S FLAG WHILE YOU PROTEST THAT YOU DON'T GET ENOUGH RESPECT.Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-3594469806461440372010-04-01T06:02:00.000-07:002010-04-01T06:02:57.244-07:00Pick up these hot titles if you haven't already<iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=whate-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=1599830019&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align:left;padding-top:5px;width:131px;height:245px;padding-right:10px;"align="left" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe><br />
<iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=whate-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=1933967811&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align:left;padding-top:5px;width:131px;height:245px;padding-right:10px;"align="left" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-16543916147742822622010-03-31T14:54:00.000-07:002010-03-31T14:54:58.796-07:00Out of the mouth of a four year-oldNowadays little black girls are bombarded with images that the media holds in high regards; the European standard of beauty. Television, and magazines alike showcase images of blonde, blue-eyed, artificial breasts, and rail thin bodies. The message often conveyed is, "you're not beautiful unless you look like this." Rarely do they see images of themselves in their natural state. Oftentimes they see a black girl with weaved extensions down her back. When asked, who's the prettiest black female on the celebrity scene? Beyonce, and Halle Berry are always at the top of the list. Black beauty comes in all shades from dark chocolate to damn-near white. Unfortunately it's the lighter side of the spectrum that gets props and adoration.<br />
<br />
I recently witnessed my four year-old cousin push and taunt another cousin, who happened to be five. The four year-old told the five year-old that she was "black" and "ugly," and for those reasons she didn't like her. Mind you this four year-old told me that she only played with white dolls because they were prettier. This upset me terribly and what's more disturbing, when I told the mother about it she merely shrugged it off.<br />
<br />
Imagine a beautiful four year-old girl already ingrained with the notion that black is ugly and inferior. This disturbed me so that I am making it my mission to teach our little black girls self-esteem. Don't mean to sound racist but when I hear a little girl in a sense saying that everything she is has no value then I have to interact. I don't want her to grow up with an inferiority complex and then pass that on to her children and children's children.<br />
<br />
I believe self-esteem starts by embracing everything beautiful about yourself; your culture, your history. To be honest, I don't see anything positive in the media, therefore it has to begin at home and if it's not starting at home, it has to be taught in school or church. I'm on a mission to teach my children to not be influenced by the images they see on television or in magazines. Their culture is a rich culture, my daughter will know that black dolls are just as beautiful as any dolls, her skin is not inferior and she should never be ashamed of who she is.<br />
<br />
<a href="www.amazon.com"><a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Valleys-Neptune-Jimi-Hendrix/dp/B00328G4V6?ie=UTF8&tag=whate-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">Valleys Of Neptune</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=whate-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B00328G4V6" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /><a imageanchor="1" target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Valleys-Neptune-Jimi-Hendrix/dp/B00328G4V6?ie=UTF8&tag=whate-20&link_code=bil&camp=213689&creative=392969"><img alt="Valleys Of Neptune" src="http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&ServiceVersion=20070822&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&Format=_SL160_&ASIN=B00328G4V6&tag=whate-20" /></a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=whate-20&l=bil&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=B00328G4V6" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important; padding: 0px !important" /><iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=whate-20&o=1&p=8&l=bpl&asins=B00328G4V6&fc1=000000&IS2=1<1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="align:left;padding-top:5px;width:131px;height:245px;padding-right:10px;"align="left" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe></a>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-17081380521497204062010-03-17T01:09:00.000-07:002010-03-17T01:40:30.157-07:00Awaiting a New Arrival<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmP7qNJT77_rG9_Zicjh2a2ebkoNbrUTILPi_TifqWNbFSDot0WIFp9nbqLCtYllRueWKuyW4ND6IknEDoYoY4p1gF6ihXvy0PIkm6puEE8PkHD20TKrDbeTkB1XBFrjuTKSt6leCCJE/s1600-h/HPIM0635.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmP7qNJT77_rG9_Zicjh2a2ebkoNbrUTILPi_TifqWNbFSDot0WIFp9nbqLCtYllRueWKuyW4ND6IknEDoYoY4p1gF6ihXvy0PIkm6puEE8PkHD20TKrDbeTkB1XBFrjuTKSt6leCCJE/s320/HPIM0635.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449518462632238098" /></a>A lot of people may not relate, but those of you can will empathize with me. It's 3:00 a.m. in the morning and I'm up bright-eyed and bushy tailed. I fell asleep around 11:00 but for the past four hours I've been getting up to pee. Now I know you're asking yourself, "Where is she going with this?" The title should've given it away, I'm 33 weeks pregnant with my second child and boy oh boy is he sitting like pretty boy Floyd on momma's bladder.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Not to mention, he's a night owl who likes to boogey woogey with his kicks, twists, and turns. Sometimes I'll get up and read to him to try and soothe him. Other times, I don't bother...a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do. A week ago my OB informed me that my cervix is short. It's only one centimeter...It was 3 centimeters around the same time with my daughter...so she put me on bed rest for the next three weeks. Right now, I'm trying to take it easy and for the sake of my unborn son, get as much bed rest as possible which is kind of hard when I'm getting up every five minutes to pee.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My son's due date is scheduled for May 1, but at the rate he's going my husband and I along with his big sister may be kissing his cheeks sometime around Resurrection Sunday (Easter for those of you who believe in the Easter Bunny). Anyway, in the meantime, I'm going to sit and relax, pray and meditate as I await my new arrival.</div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-21855067038125897842010-02-02T21:37:00.000-08:002010-02-02T22:50:43.875-08:00Here's to You, Jacklyn<div style="text-align: left;"> She was the epitome of class. Educated, self-reliant, outspoken, a true gem in every sense of the word. In the three years I spent as her assistant I learned the importance of being discreet, business etiquette, direct deposit as opposed to standing in line at the bank, sisterhood, and self esteem. She was successful but always grounded. She could have boasted how she was a key board member of several businesses in town. She owned real estate. She was president of the graduate chapter of her sorority and served as the sorority's undergraduate adviser. She drove a cute sporty red convertible Nissan 240. Her clothing wasn't designer but it was conservative, stylish, never flashy. She always wore her shoulder length hair in a french role, always neat and not a single hair out of place. The thing I remember most about her was her laugh, sort of a goofy kind of laugh, nothing loud or obnoxious, but a really cute goofy laugh and she was laughing all the time.<br /> Her door was always open, so students and faculty alike gravitated to her office. The three years I spent in her office flew by along with my college years. I graduated and moved out of town but on occasion I would call or come by to see her and catch her up on the latest gossip. As time went on we lost touch and communicated with an occasional email. Although she kept her personal life very personal, I witnessed her involvement in a couple of dead end relationships. It wasn't until after I graduated and left town that she eventually fell in love and married the man of her dreams. They were a beautiful, successful couple. Then one day I got a phone call from my mom.<br /> "Guess what?" I dread when she starts off the conversation with that.<br /> "What?" I answered, "Jackie's husband died today."<br /> "Wow." Was all I could say. I was so hurt for her that I couldn't pick up the phone to give her a call. I replayed over a million times what I would say to her but I just couldn't pick up the phone. Fast forward one year to the day.<br /> "Are you sitting down?" It's mom again and I know she's about to break some more bad news.<br /> "Jackie had a heart attack....She's dead."<br /> "Dead? Jackie Merchant?"<br /> My heart sank as I thought of Jackie, lifeless, it just didn't seem right. She was healthy, how could she have a heart attack? I always pictured Jackie growing old in age, I never imagined her dying so young, she was only 44.<br /> It's been nearly 6 years since her death. I still think about her and sometimes I find it hard to drive by the University and not be able to drop in and talk to her. I miss hearing her laugh and I hate that she's not around to see the positive influence she's had on my life.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br />Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-89980538694170422982010-01-29T00:48:00.000-08:002010-01-29T01:24:15.932-08:00The Importance Of...<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You would think as a writer I should be pouring out daily inspirations or confessions of the latest goings-on in my life. While maintaining a career, a healthy marriage and mothering an active 20 month-old, writing, for the most part, gets put on the back burner. Some people can manage to do all, equally well, and I applaud them. I'm just not one of them. Right now I'm sacrificing the writing to concentrate on what's really important, my family. I lavish my husband and daughter with my full attention. As a mother and wife I make it a daily habit of making my home a pleasant one. You won't find beds unmade, clothes stacked to the ceiling, and rings around the toilets. I make it my business to have dinner cooked and everything in order. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now, I don't leave myself out of the equation. My idea of relaxation is a getaway to the spa or a trip somewhere with the hubby or other family members. Somedays I just like to curl up on the sofa with soft music in the background and get into a really good book.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Maybe one day, I'll get the inspiration to churn something out worth reading. Since the publications of my last novels, "Mile High Confessions, " and "Happily Never After," I feel my writing has since moved in another direction. A lot of it has to do with my changing interests. Some of it may be contributed to my level of maturity. What I thought seemed relevant once, has no significance in my life now. My level of spirituality has grown tremendously. There's more to life than the superficial characters I have often written about in my books. I guess it's okay, if you tend to like that but I feel like taking my characters and my readers in a new direction now. Stay tuned.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-44784552693629411112009-12-04T04:11:00.001-08:002009-12-04T05:27:30.224-08:00Do You....Really?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The atmosphere at this particularly workplace was already tense in the days leading up to the historical presidential election of 2008. Situations came to a head the day after Obama won. It was a like a funeral, the white employees were absolutely stunned, shocked, dumbfounded whatever adjective you want to use to describe the way they felt. They walked past their black co-workers without so much as saying "goodmorning," "hello," or "nice weather we're having." Their stoned faces revealed what they had been thinking all along.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Fast forward to smoke break in a loaded dock area where most of the heated debates took place. Employees black and white alike gathered there and for ten, fifteen however many minutes it took they voiced their opinions. The blacks usually sided with Obama, the whites, sided with McCain and Palin. Well today, a white employee just laid it out there for his black co-worker. For five years they had been cordial to each other, gone out to lunch a few times, even met up with others during happy hour a time or two.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"You know," he began after taking a long drag on his cigarette, "I really wished you people would've gone back to Africa a long time ago."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The black co-worker laughed it off, "Aww, you're just mad 'cause we got a brother in the White House now."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"No, I'm serious." The white co-worker said emphatically.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The black co-worker blew out a cloud of smoke and listened as his white co-worker explained his reasons.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"If all black people went back to Africa today the crime rate would be lower, our system would be richer 'cause we wouldn't have to spend money on welfare programs and medicaid. We wouldn't have to worry about Affirmative Action and real estate values would appraise through the roof 'cause none of you would be around to bring the property values down. This would be a wonderful, safe, thriving society."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The black co-worker blew out another cloud of smoke, threw his cigarette butt on the ground and extinguished it on the heel of his steel-toed work book.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Do You....Really?"</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Yeah, I wish all of you could get on a ship like Noah's Ark and go back and take 'Bama Boy with you."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The black co-worker was brimming but he kept his cool, he didn't want to stoop to the level of his white co-worker. As a Christian he was always taught to take the high road but he couldn't let an incident like this pass without giving a few choice words of his own.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Imagine America without black people, the economy would shut down. It wouldn't be able to function without us. You know black in America people spend so much money that if they were living on their own country it would be the 9th wealthiest country on the planet? You wouldn't have all these black celebrities with wealth that you look up to like Oprah Winfrey, Bill Cosby, Jay-Z and Beyonce and you know how much money they have."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"So what?" Was all the white co-worker could say, "I don't even like Jay-Z."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"I'm not finished, just imagined if blacks hadn't came over as slaves at all, you wouldn't have traffic lights...your asses would be running over and killing each other. You wouldn't even have the city of Washington DC where all these bullshit laws are made if a black guy hadn't drawn out the survey for the city, hell half the inventions you take for granted around here wouldn't exist."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"I still say America is better off without y'all." </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"That's sad," was all the black co-worker could say. Then more thoughts came to mind.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Imagine right now if all black people went to Africa, today." The black co-worker began, "You wouldn't have all the popular sports that generate money for the economy, existing. You wouldn't have football teams, you wouldn't have basketball teams, boxing, all the big time money athletes would be in Africa. And you know...With all the black athletes in Africa, all the white women are gonna wanna come too."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-38068028869361965232009-11-25T18:40:00.000-08:002009-11-25T20:22:50.991-08:00Thinking About My Peeps This Thanksgiving<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Blood is always thicker than water in my book. When you have a large, close-knit family like mine you really don't spend much time with friends. Whenever I go home to visit, I am content just hanging out with my mom, sister, husband, grandparents, uncles, aunts and first cousins.<br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My family loves to assemble at my grandparent's home where sometimes we throw barbecues, and fish fries for the hell of it. My Uncle Barry will usually surprise us with a wild game catch and most of the time it ends up in his deep fryer. I call his deep fryer a little piece of heaven because it fries everything from rabbit to armadillo (yes armadillo). My hometown, Huntsville is nestled in the piney woods of East Texas and has about 40,000 residents. I consider myself very much a country girl at heart. Thanksgivings in the past you would find me sitting in front a bowl of Grandma's collard greens crumbled up with jiffy cornbread and fried chitterlins (yes fried) with a glass of pineapple-spiked, cherry kool-aid nearby.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My Grandparents are well-known in the community so visitors are always stopping by. Sometimes people we hadn't seen in years would pop up out of the blue to visit a spell. The atmosphere is so welcoming that on occasion they'll have a bite to eat. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>This Thanksgiving will be the first without a very special member of the family. My Aunt Jan will be sorely missed. She was the key musician in the family who sometimes loaded up her keyboard and we'd have church right there in living room. When she wasn't playing her keyboard she was throwing down eating at the table. She was only 4'11" so we got a kick out of how much food she piled on her plate. This Christmas and every other holiday will be difficult for us but with each passing year I pray that it will soon get better.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So this year I've decided to do Thanksgiving at my house. We don't do the traditional roasted turkey, instead my mother smokes turkey wings, turkey drumsticks, chicken wings, and pig's feet on the barbecue pit. I tell you the seasoning is sooo good that you find yourself gnawing at the bone with absolutely no shame. Hence another reason why I love being around my family so much. My mother-in-law is in town from Louisiana and she usually cooks rice dressing, a staple for Louisiana natives. It's the eve of Thanksgiving and most of the food is already cooked. Now, I'm just counting down the hours to the minutes to the seconds before I fill my plate with smoked turkey wings, potato salad, cornbread dressing, baked beans, and fried cabbage. God is good.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-66127700348954254222009-11-11T08:24:00.001-08:002009-11-11T08:24:46.074-08:00Your Bravery Will Never Be ForgottenAs you well know, November 11 is Veteran's Day, a day set aside to honor those who have set aside their lives to serve and protect our country. Several of my FB family and friends are members of all branches of the military. I applaud them. I applaud all Veterans for their strength and courage. Not everyone is equipped to take on the task. It takes a special kind of person to want to serve in that capacity. I believe there should be a special place in heaven for our soldiers.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>As a history buff, I am particularly reminded of the sacrifices made by African American soldiers. From the colored infantry of the 54th Massachusetts, who volunteered at a time when they were still slaves to fight on behalf of the Union; the Buffalo Soldiers who fought in the Spanish American War. The African American soldiers who shed blood during World War I and II, who were treated harsher than the enemies they were set out to fight against and the brothers who perished in the Korean and Vietnam Wars.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I am not discounting the sacrifices made by soldiers of other races but an African American soldier should be particularly commended for willing to die for a country that didn't always have their interests at heart. Imagine yourself a young black soldier in Germany during World War II getting ready to see a Josephine Baker concert. Because of your black skin toned you are told to sit behind the white German POW's. How crazy is that? I don't blame Josephine Baker for refusing to perform unless the black soldiers and white soldiers sat together.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Again, I applaud all Veterans. Times have changed where women see just as much action as men. They could choose to not enlist, choose to stay home, raise families, or focus on their careers but they don't. They too, put their lives on the line for this country. When I have soldiers on my flights, I make sure they get first-class treatment. If you're at least 18, the first round of drinks are on me. I feel if you are old enough to get permission to kill you can at least have a beer or a cocktail. So to all my Veteran FB friends: Christy Simmons, Willie Hightower, Lanita Winfrey, Tammy Cole, Kelton Gilbert and countless others...today is your day, celebrate and be proud of your bravery and service. I love you all! Thank you!Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-33031948599186304952009-10-14T09:36:00.000-07:002009-10-14T10:37:42.612-07:00When Someone Close Misuses Their Trust....<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I was watching an episode of "In the Heat Of the Night," and the name of the episode was called, "Family Secrets." In it you have a very prominent family with a very prominent patriarch who sat on the boards of various organizations, he was deacon of the church...he was also the type of man who you wouldn't think would sexually abuse his own daughter and granddaugther.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I've had friends who had members of their family violate them inappropriately. I had one friend, whose step-father even offered money to sleep with her. I remembered her calling me crying frantically. She told her mother about it and of course her mother didn't believe her. I'll never forget that on my friend's 17th birthday, I paid for her a one-way ticket out of town via Greyhound.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I had another friend, who revealed to me a plethora of information about her family while we were on a road trip. She told me she was molested by both men and women. I was so hurt for her and sad that she encountered a dysfunctional family growing up. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I always thank God that although I had young uncles and male cousins, none of them wouldn't even think of touching me or my sister or female cousins. It wasn't until I was 21 that a male friend of the family tried. He was always coming by my mom's house to visit. My family has known this guy since he was a baby, his parents lived in the same neighborhood with my grandparents. He was always helpful, he was someone you could trust. When I was much younger, my friends and I would see him in the store and he would buy us candy and drinks. Later in life he would take us out to dinner and pay the tab. I don't know if he felt I owed him something or what...but one night I was complaining about my neck being sore and he offered to give me a massage. He gave me a pretty good massage but what happened next tripped me out. He kissed me on the side of my neck. I immediately jumped up because I was not expecting that. I immediately felt uncomfortable like I had done something wrong.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I remember saying, "That's all right I'm okay now," and I locked myself in the bathroom and I remember scrubbing my neck. Then I remember being pissed. Years later I find out that he raped his own 13 year-old daughter. His wife walked in on her screaming and fighting with him. He got some jail time too and now he's a registered sex offender.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>If I see him now the pit of my stomach churns and I give him this look like, "How could you?" It's sick and instead of feeling disgusted I should be praying for him. You have to be a sick-demon possessed individual to do that to another person. That's why I plead the blood of Jesus over my daughter and my niece and over my female cousins on a daily basis. I pray that every perverted, deep-seeded desire that creeps into the minds of those individuals are cast out into depths of hell. Incest, perversion, sexually immorality has no place here, not now, not ever. IN THE PRECIOUS NAME OF JESUS. AMEN!</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-21522009148881965842009-10-05T05:24:00.000-07:002009-10-05T08:07:24.231-07:00Hallow-What? I don't think so<span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>A</span>bout two years ago I was watching the morning news as I was getting ready for work. A reporter was at an elementary school asking kids (ages 6 & 7) what characters are they going to dress up as for Halloween. He asked the first kid, who said he was going as Spider Man. The reporter asked another kid, who said he was going as a wizard. The reporter asked a third kid who just stood there shaking his head. The reporter was puzzled. <div>He asked, "You're not wearing a costume for Halloween?"</div><div>The kid shook his head again. The reporter asked, "Why?"</div><div>The kid said, "Because it's not in the Bible."</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>You should've seen the reporter, he was speechless. I was up shouting yes! Yes! A kid whose mommy and daddy taught him well. Halloween, no matter how much you downplay it, is a day set aside to honor the dead. I'm sorry but the only thing worthy of my honor is Jesus Christ. I take the word of God seriously because as my late aunt always said, "I have my soul to save." Now many people will say that it's harmless, it's tradition, Christians are always taking the fun out of everything. If you knew the truth and history behind Halloween then maybe you would reconsider it. I don't have time to go into details but if you have access to a computer and a library you can definitely check it out for yourself.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My reasons are this: anything that glorifies the dead, anything related to idol worship, or anything with a history that doesn't involve Christ I won't have part in it and neither will my children. What's sad about all this is that there are churches who celebrate Halloween. All I say is read up on it and if you are the type who's into tradition because everyone else is doing it fine. However, when it all boils down to it I only have only myself to give account to when the time comes.</div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-77291033810247190282009-09-21T04:58:00.000-07:002009-09-22T08:36:37.512-07:00Remembering a beautiful life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxL0LRUhwkcYOjRQVatZRy7ZX7LPQM2W_chPzCzEs5YYlQRXLcdxOy-prHRyUQlaKGGxyWMdPkqRhVaXGcOVENWChF6KH9tS3hvVjwvuvw3OFaOsT2zT0p_TyciUdgdIwG5oVQ2j_awE/s1600-h/HPIM0691.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxL0LRUhwkcYOjRQVatZRy7ZX7LPQM2W_chPzCzEs5YYlQRXLcdxOy-prHRyUQlaKGGxyWMdPkqRhVaXGcOVENWChF6KH9tS3hvVjwvuvw3OFaOsT2zT0p_TyciUdgdIwG5oVQ2j_awE/s320/HPIM0691.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384276314430661874" /></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She and her best friend used to race home from school to see who could get the first kiss of my chubby cheeks when I was a baby. She still had that same enthusiasm and eagerness to kiss my daughter. Whenever I payed my mother a visit, my mother would call and tell her to come over. She did, with the quickness just to hold and kiss and play with my baby. On Friday, September 18th around 11:30 p.m. she called my mother and they talked. My mother told her that she had spent the evening with my daughter. Aunt Jan wanted to see her too and that whatever she had to do, do it because she really wanted to see my daughter.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Around midnight, a drunk driver ran head on into the vehicle she was riding in, killing her instantly(wow, it's hard for me to write this). A wife, a mother of two, an aunt, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a well known musician - was taken away from us. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Later that morning, I arrived from New York, my husband knew but he never let on. I got a call from my cousins, one of whom was my aunt's oldest daughter, they never let on. I finally called my mom and asked if she had spoken to the cousin. She said, "no." Then I said she didn't sound too good. My mom asked, "She didn't tell you?" I asked, "Tell me what."</div><div>Whenever my mom starts off with, "Oh my God," then I know something terrible has just happened. Then she told me. It felt like someone had just knocked the wind out of me. After I let the words sink in "JAN...KILLED" a pain so deep erupted and I screamed out in anger, hurt, and confusion. How could a life so beautiful end so tragic?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She has always been the backbone of the family. I always joke and tell her that she should have went to law school because she was versed on legal issues. She always knew how to read through the fine print. If there were ever any issues in the family everyone went to her and by God she got on it and wasn't satisfied until it was done. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>She was a talented musician and singer as well, serving as Minister of Music and even composing some of the songs for her church. During our family reunions she played the keyboard and always led the praise and worship hour. Who would've thought this year would be her last because this year unlike before, the holy spirit was present at our family reunion and the recreation house turned into a church sanctuary. It was a little emotional because we had just buried my Aunt Emma in May. So this was the first family reunion without her. When Aunt Betty got "happy," there wasn't a dry eye in the place.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Later during the family reunion, Aunt Jan entertained us with a bluesy rendition of "Stormy Monday. " She sang her heart out so we started throwing money at her feet. I'm so glad her husband was there to video the moment as he's done on many occasions. I think part of the reason why he did so were to capture moments that included my mother, who was dealing with lymphoma at the time. As strange as this may sound no one thought Jan would die before my mom.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>And so the family is still in shock, and when it seems things don't get any worst they do when more members our family are killed in a terrible accident involving a driver who ran a red light. The death angel took not one but four members of our family over the course of the weekend. There's only so much the heart can take, right now all we can do is ask God to give us the peace He'd promised, the kind of peace that surpasses all understanding. I'm also thanking God in advance for his angels of protection over my family and everyone's family.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I can't get angry with the drunk driver who took away such a beautiful life. Aunt Jan had so much to offer, she still had a lot of living to do. She had two daughters; one who is about to graduate from college and the other who is about to graduate from high school. She was planning a party for them and she was excited as well as emotional about the upcoming chapters in their lives. My heart aches when I think of her husband and daughters. My only peace is in the biblical verse: Earth has no sorrow that heaven can't heal. As time goes on my prayer is that they will eventually heal. I pray that God gives them all the strength. And I pray that the girls go on to become the women their mother would be proud of. I also pray that Robert, her husband, finds the peace that God promised him. I pray for my entire family. Rest in peace, my dear sweet Jan. The angels in heaven are rejoicing!</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-21672994228649553512009-09-01T21:18:00.000-07:002009-09-01T21:29:59.717-07:00Another snippet from "Spring Cleaning"<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoBodyText" align="center" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Sit time between flights make me more tired than the hours I spend on the plane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I utilize this time to have lunch in the food court for a change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky is next to me with his nose in a box of Popeye’s Chicken while Eddie is across from us nibbling on a six- inch sub with a bag of chips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Word on the low is.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky begins, “Roxy is about to lose custody of her daughter.”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I’m not a fan of gossip but for some strange reason my ears perk up whenever her name is involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It has a lot to do with I don’t have a life and she seems to have too much going on in hers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every week it’s something different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One week she’s not getting along with the nanny, the next week she and her rapper boyfriend are fighting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On an earlier flight, she got confrontational with a passenger over a wrong drink order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Tomorrow she may get off the trip just to show us that she doesn’t need the job or the money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I just look at her and think <i>Lord, why her?</i><span style="font-style:normal"> <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She never seems content.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If I were in her position I would utilize my time and money wisely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There are times when the crew has gone out for dinner and she orders the most expensive thing on the menu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She takes two bites out of it and she’s done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><i>Poor baby</i><span style="font-style:normal">. </span><i>Your daddy’s rich and your mama’s a hot mess</i><span style="font-style:normal">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve always wanted a child or two and here she is with a daughter and she runs away from her every chance she gets.</span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“To whom, Mad Lew?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eddie asks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He’s thinking like me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mad Lew didn’t want that child anymore than Roxy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Mad Lew’s mother wants it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know what that’s all about.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky dips his chicken strip in a round container of spicy mustard.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“To keep from paying Roxy child support.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I add.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“You know he pays her $20,000 a month?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky fans himself, “Honey when she told me that my jaw dropped.”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“That’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>$240,000 a year.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eddie says.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Lord forgive me for saying this but for that amount of money I wish I could birth a crumb snatcher.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky looks at me, “You feel me, Boo?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“No. You are by yourself on that.”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>His smile disappears and he rolls his eyes at me, “Anyway, that heifer got Walter Nunnley paying her membership dues in the President’s club.”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Eddie frowns, “You’re supposed to be her friend, why are you telling us her business?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Amen.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I second.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Eddie taps my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Ronnie, does he tell you my business?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“I always put him in check.” I wink.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Don’t even try it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lucky rolls his eyes at me again.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“So what, you and Roxy hanging tight now?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eddie asks.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“I’m not supposed to be telling all her business.”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He turns his back towards me and rolls his eyes at Eddie.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Suit yourself.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Eddie chuckles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Once I’m on the plane, it’s still a half an hour before boarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’re on a 757 with twenty-four first class seats so I find a seat in the very last row.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Somewhere between a light and a deep sleep I wake up to the sounds of Roxy’s voice yelling into her cell phone.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“You knew my status when you got with me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Apparently she doesn’t see me. What does she mean by <i>status</i><span style="font-style:normal">?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><i>Financial status?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Relationship status? Her status of the War in Iraq?</i></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“You know what Kenny, kiss my ass.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She yells into the phone, “And if you think you’re getting custody of Marlow kiss my ass again.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She slaps her phone shut and I hear it being thrown into her purse.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>She walks the first-class aisle in a huff and still don’t see me slump against the seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hear Lucky come on board and stow his bags in the mid-cabin closet, if he walks into first-class he surely wouldn’t miss me.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“What’s wrong with you?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hear him ask Roxy.</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“I don’t want to talk about it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It sounds like she’s standing in front of the mirror powdering her nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“When are you going to New Orleans?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>He answers, “This weekend, why?” </p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“I need a witch doctor or something. You know any?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Do I look like the type of person who know people like that?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“You want me to lie?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“Boo, I don’t know what you’ve heard but I don’t know witchdoctors.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“What about your mother, your grandmother?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“What are you trying to do?”</p> <p class="MsoBodyText"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>“I’ll tell you about it later.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She says just minutes before Whitney and Victor arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I remain slumped in the first-class seat until I feel someone tapping my feet. I pretend as if I’m asleep and start wiping my eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-52304868429130776292009-08-31T06:24:00.000-07:002009-09-01T20:42:12.896-07:00I Can feel the Music!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Growing up, music was always playing in my house. Even at night when we went to bed, the radio played because a quiet house always seemed eery. Magic 102 has been around a long time and I still remember some of the DJ's (Captain Jack - Don't Do It Like That Baby!) was his hook, Zoe Bonet did the quiet storm at night, and Uncle Funky held it down in the morning. I've always been a fan of good R & B songs, especially those with good lyrics and an infectious rhythm. Remember this: Love and Happiness...Something that'll make you do right....Will Make you do wrong. Then you'd hear that gospel-inspired moan followed by the five foot stomps and the bluesy guitar. Listen to it and I dare you to remain still. <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I grew up in the 80's and 90's when rap and hip hop first emerged on the scene. I'm not really a fan of the genre. I've never been one who memorized rap lines, phrases or hooks, but I can tell you all the lyrics to Stevie Wonder's songs. I have 60 of his songs on my ipod. Stevie will always have a special place in my heart. When I was two, my dad purchased the "Songs In the Key of Life" album and played it daily. Daddy's favorites were, "I wish": Looking back on when I was a little nappy headed boy...He liked, "Isn't she Lovely," he always dedicated that one to me. But the one song that always stood out and is my favorite one on the album to this day, "Pastime Paradise." The cellos, the violins, percussions, the voices of the choir, blend them all together and it was a masterpiece of a sound, an audible musical canvass beautiful from the time it opens with the simple, steady beat of a hand held wood block and climaxes with a thrash of a tam tam drum. The lyrics are haunting: Been spending spend most their lives living in a pastime paradise.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I finally got the chance to meet him after one of his concerts. Just for me, he played and sang another one of my favorite songs that he didn't include in the concert and believe me I was on cloud nine the rest of the week.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>When it comes to music I don't just limit myself to R&B. My dad had an extensive jazz collection and at a young age I was able to appreciate Billie Holiday, John Coltrane, and the Jazz Crusaders. My mom loved gospel so it played all day on Sundays. To this day, she still tunes in every Sunday morning to the local station that plays gospel from 6 am to 10 am.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>If I had to make a list of my favorite artists I would definitely put Stevie Wonder at the top, followed by Prince. I finally got the chance to see him and the Revolution perform live in New Orleans and I must say for a 50 year-old man he was very energetic. He's also on my list of people I want to meet before I die. He obviously strikes me as someone who is extremely deep and I can only imagine what a conversation with him is like. I wouldn't be surprised if he wrote everything down on paper and passed it over to you. He's just weird like that. Imagine us: </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Me: Hi</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Him: (writing on a piece of paper) How R U?</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Jill Scott is another one of my favorites, I have a pretty extensive collection of her songs, too. I've seen her perform live, the sister is baaad. Her poetry comes alive. Anthony Hamilton is another one of my favorites but I haven't seen him perform in person. I rented a performance of his via netflix and was blown away by it. Next time he's in town, I'll be there front row and center.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There are others on my list: Anita Baker, Erykah Badu, Chaka Khan (whom I met, she's a sweetie) and Maze (seen them many times). I wished I could've gotten the opportunity to see the Jacksons perform, maybe one day I can catch a Janet concert. In the meantime, I'm gonna sit and chill and let the shuffle button play on my itunes. Check out my list of artists: Sly and the Family Stone, Booker T and the MG's, Alicia Keyes, Yolanda Adams, Zapp, Heatwave, Whitney Houston, R. Kelly, the Isley Brothers....</div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-88232713245268095122009-08-23T18:05:00.000-07:002009-08-24T20:28:36.554-07:00When You've Been Blessed You Progress...NOT...<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>All my life I've seen <i><b>this particular person</b></i> deal with issues and win! She used prayer and meditation as her secret weapons. But as the saying goes, time brings about a change. Assuming it's a change for the better. When you've been blessed you progress not regress. <i><b>This particular person</b></i> has regressed. She's moved a devil back into her house. I mean literally. She's moved a real-life lying, scheisty, alcholic, devil BACK into HER house. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>This devil came into her life just like it came into the lives other women through carpentry work. This devil has the same M.O. if you are a single woman and you need major repairs to your home this devil will fix it up as good as new. The work usually ends sometimes late into the night and instead of this devil packing it's materials and heading home...it crashes on the couch. Eventually the devil ends up in your bed. Next thing you know it's moved into your house. Next thing you know it becomes a stick of gum on the bottom of your shoe.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>This devil is toxic. The two previous women who moved this devil into their homes suddenly became ill with cancer. One of them died. The other one forced him out at gun point. (Her health improved tremendously afterwards). This devil lived with <i><b>this particular person</b></i> for nearly five years. She claimed this devil as a roommate. He paid the bills whenever he got money from his jobs. He took care of the dogs, cleaned the house. He even went to church on occasion to earn his keep. Then the horns emerged. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>One day I got a call from<i><b> t</b></i><i><b>his particular person</b></i> I could tell by her voice she was stressing out. "Come help me get his stuff out of my house." Without hesitation I drove myself and my 11 month-old daughter through a monstrous thunderstorm to help this person. In a matter of minutes we had all the devil's things packed on the front porch. <i><b>This particular person</b></i> who had depended on the devil to keep her bills paid and current was on the verge of getting her lights and water turned off. I paid her outstanding bills and put a little extra into her account. Soon after putting him out her health improved. She would get a thousand dollars here and a thousand there from her friends to help her out with the bills. I believed God showed her that she didn't need the devil, all she had to do was trust in Him and he'd take care of her. She read the bible, she knew this to be true.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Two weeks ago my daughter and I go to visit <i><b>this particular person</b></i> with the intention of spending the weekend to celebrate the good news of her being healed from cancer. We were spending the night and going to church with her the following day. All of a sudden, I hear keys unlocking the door and in comes the devil. I couldn't mask the shock expression on my face. I asked him, "Have you moved back in?" He snapped, "I never moved out!" I looked at <i><b>this particular person</b></i>, seething, fuming, "Is that true?" I asked. She glared at me and told me to mind my own business. I said, "When you called me to help you get his things out you involved me in your business. Why in the hell did you waste my time?" She said on the verge of tears that her bills started mounting up and that the devil gave her money.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Wow, was all I could say, I guess the money I was giving her wasn't sufficient. I was hurt but more than that I was angry. The devil had a reputation in the town for being a notorious liar and a con-artist. He would tell people he'd do jobs for them, take their money and never show up for the work site. He was even on probation for it. Worst than that he was drinking. That night when he walked in, the house reeked like a distillery. I packed my things, grabbed my daughter and I left. I refused to be in the same house with him.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Two days later I vented my frustrations to this particular person and told her how disappointed I was in her. "God has been good to you, he's given you a new lease on life and you insult Him." She knew the bible, at least I thought she knew the part where, "God will supply all your needs according to His riches..." Her faith had definitely turned into fear. I'm still upset but she's made up her mind, she's going to keep the devil in her home. I told her, "When you get tired of him and believe me you will, don't call me." And that was the end of our conversation. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-63316381165742332182009-08-19T21:23:00.000-07:002009-08-19T21:56:12.190-07:00Imagine a Not-So-Typical Black Community<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Imagine a black neighborhood where all of the businesses are black owned. That used to be the case some years ago. I'm writing this because in every black neighborhood in America you're guaranteed to find three things: A nail shop, a liquor store, and a check cashing place. Nine times out of ten, the nail shops are owned by Vietnamese or Koreans. The Liquor stores are owned by Pakistanis or someone of Middle Eastern origins and the check cashing places are owned by someone other than a black person. The majority of black owned businesses in black neighborhoods are beauty shops, barber shops and fried food joints.<div><br /><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>There is an old abandoned building that used to be Kroger just sitting in my neighborhood wasting away. In my dream world, I'm wishing I could turn it into a farmer's market. I would have free range chicken eggs, home grown fruits and vegetables, good quality meats like the kind you get from your grandparents' farm - I would have a cafe set up where my people could nosh on tufu spaghetti with unprocessed tomato sauce, they could drink real peanut butter and banana smoothies. The people who worked there would have pleasant attitudes and some of them would even show up early for work.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Imagine a black community where there are quality schools. Where prayer and bible study are requirements. Self-Respect 101 would be a requirement and Love and Respect for thy neighborhood will be an everlasting motto.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>My point is this...At some point when do you come to the realization that you are your greatest asset. That God, your community, and your health are essential to your survival. </div><div><br /></div></div>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3563838765643702994.post-29762904210995391132009-08-10T14:32:00.000-07:002009-08-10T16:50:29.646-07:00Family Reunion Fun<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>What do you get when you mix hickory smoked barbecue and country, salt-of-the earth, people? A recipe that is my family reunion. Every August since 2004 my family gets together and celebrate with a little church, a little history, and a whole lot of food. We sooo look forward to laughing and joking, playing exciting games, throwing down on my grandma's hickory smoked barbecue ribs, chicken and brisket. Later in the evening, my uncle and my cousins entertain us with live music.<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The Merchant, Peterson, and English family reunions originally started with my Great Grandmother, Irene Peterson Merchant. Her birthday was August 2, and she wanted to celebrate her birthday with her family and her husband's family back in the late 70's. My great grandparents lived on a farm in Huntsville, Texas. The best family reunions took place right there in the backyard underneath a shady, huge oak tree. The reunions would last from noon until midnight sometimes.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Mama" as we often called my Great grandmother, baked homemade pineapple cakes, German chocolate cakes, and made the best red kool-aid in the world. She called it "polly-pop," and it was loaded with pineapple juice. Come to think of it, "Mama" cooked all the food for the reunions that had as many as a hundred and fifty present. Sadly, "Mama" passed away in January, 1986. The 1986 reunion wasn't quite the same. The one following it in 1987 occurred right there in my great Aunts living-room, it was that small.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It wasn't until early 2004 that the grandkids got together and reignited the flame that "Mama" started nearly 30 years earlier. We added more activities and every year we pay tribute to our loved ones who have passed on. We celebrate by having church and then we end the evening with the live band throwing down on everything from Archie Bell and Drell's, "Tighten Up," to the "Cupid Shuffle." My husband loves the band, he usually gets a front seat to video the action with his camera.</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I really hope we can continue the tradition so our children and their children can come together. It is always a really good thing.</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxHOFg5LIN1w7jm8amJeO5EjGWnheE4PP_Z96f4_ylC35PFcbXHm8PEJmB9oCxNrqD1Ert8lyaMs80GcFjOBg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzr8j43MGu5XyJlrm6Hx0YvZGRs9CXlOneKHQz56Mb4E0ywlxtXNJz-ZCuU93sHFni47bZUd0oXg3YszPNgKg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Laylasmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11853665405030552185noreply@blogger.com0