To Tweet or not Tweet, that is the Question…

A while back I wrote a post displaying my true (nasty) feelings about Twitter.  Since then, I am giving it another whole-hearted try.  Actually giving it a whole-hearted try. I’ve discovered some interesting folks on Twitter and am still learning how to join in on meaningful (or goofy) conversations.  I still haven’t figured out how to “hang out” with some folks, like at happy hour but then I only have about 30 followers.

I did have fun fussing and ranting about my dislike for Michelle Rhee, which was a pretty good learning experience.  Being fired up inspires me to learn how to use something to spit my flames.

I’m thinking I may have been a little harsh with my criticism of Twitter back then, and although I am far but enamored with this particular social networking tool there is a possibility it might not suck.  Will update in a month or two.  I promise.  Remind me if I don’t.  And please, feel free to comment.

News Flash: Not all Black Women Wear Fake Hair

It’s weird, three people in the last month or so have said something to indicate that they assumed that I am wearing extensions, a weave, or a wig.  WTH?  Does my hair look fake? 

Ok, I realize that this is because of the terrifying profusion of fake hair being worn by my beautiful sistahs, and some women’s obsession with long hair at whatever cost, be it monetary or beauty.  Is it because of the movie “Good Hair”?  I was horrified by that movie too.  Before that film I had never seen a weave being applied either.

It is no secret that I can’t stand weaves and wigs.  Mostly because they have tainted the whole idea of black women with long hair.  I grew every single strand of these thick, luscious, nappy, long locs on my head from the follicles on my scalp. My hair is REAL.  It didn’t come from some poor Indian woman’s temple or a horse’s ass. Believe it.

I’m obsessive about the products I use and care I take of it.  I want it clean, fresh, and shiny at all times.  I’m glad you like it but please know that there are black women with beautiful (and long) hair, oh yes, there are others besides me!  Please do not automatically assume that some black woman’s hair cost a fortune or that she spends her days sitting up in a salon having it sewn onto her head.  Consider that some of us just might have real hair.

Rowdy Gray Hairs: A Good Sign?

I was running late this morning.  My excuse is that I woke up with a few too many gray straggly hairs around my hairline and I had to remove them.

I have nothing against gray hair.  Salt and pepper locs are beautiful and distinguishing.  But my gray straggles are strange, wirey, and like to party. The rest of my dark hair is (nappy) coiled tightly enough to display my ethnic African ancestry, which makes for luxurious locs and I like that.  But the gray straggles are not coiled, not curly, not straight, not wavy.  They are crooked.  They are new and short so they’re not contained in my locs and they don’t know or care which way to go.  They absolutely refuse to join the dark hairs in my locs in an orderly fashion.  For those of you who know me, you know that I’m fairly methodical about keeping my hair neatly groomed and smelling fresh at all times.  So you know why these little buggers are getting on my last nerve.

The gray hairs like to get down.  They throw their hands in the air and wave them like they just don’t care.  And they really don’t care!

So here’s what I was thinking.  I do not have a problem with growing older.  As a matter of fact, I look forward to the time when I can just say whatever and the hell I want out my mouth and act a damn fool and get away with it.  People will say, “Don’t worry about that crazy Miss Lisa, she’s just old”…  Maybe the hairs are just giving me a vision of what’s to come. I won’t be going with the other orderly old ladies to the church or whatever.  I’m probably gonna stick all out, get all crooked, and wave my hands in the air and not care.

Shifting Friendships

Sometimes friendships just fizzle out, and others just go dormant.  Sometimes lukewarm  acquaintances develop into all out friendships, and these are all a part of the ebb and flow of friends.  This is normal, but doesn’t stop me from being caught off guard.

I have a friend of almost 20 years who, over the past 5 years or so, has been slowly fading out of the picture. She has been around since the most turbulent times of our lives, our 20s.  I happily leave that time of discomfort and instability behind and never look back. My friend desperately wishes she were 20 again, and tries to recreate the experience now, 20 years later. I don’t care about anything that I cared about way back then. My life is so different now and you couldn’t pay me to go backwards.  The two of us have nothing in common except the past and until her recent defriending of me on a social network I hadn’t really faced that truth.

So where do we go from here? We didn’t really have a fight.  We still care deeply about one another.  But our conversations have lost the excitement of the past.  We went from seeing each other once every couple of weeks to once ever 3 months or more.  I’m pretty sure that she’s annoyed with me because I pointed out some ugly realities.  I’m frustrated with her (from my perspective) lifestyle stagnation.  Like when you are getting a shot and you see the needle moving towards your arm and you cringe and wait for the pain only to find out it’s all over and it didn’t even hurt, I’m not upset by this breakup.  In a way, I’m relieved that I no longer cringe and anticipate the ending of this friendship.

On the very same day of that boot to my butt, someone I’ve known for about 6 years or so, a good friend of a good friend, whom I always thought was an interesting and fun person but we never really hung out together reached out to me.  Come to find out, this person is going through some large-scale friend shifting herself.  We had a nice conversation and discovered new things we have in common.  We have plans to get together soon.

My new-found friendship will never replace my long time friendship.  The only relationship between these two events is their proximity in time.  That proximity in time only highlighted to me what was inevitable:  Time to express gratitude and  let go, time to embrace and move forward with the ever-evolving friendship flow.

Reconvergence of Divergent Paths

One of my favorite poems depicts the oft accurate story of my life journey:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And being one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

~Road not Taken by Robert Frost

So I took the path of entrepreneur, sensual lifestyle and wellness coach.  After all the (law) schooling, (office) training, (fun) sacrifice, and attention not paid to the naysayers.  I loved helping people to manifest their deepest desires, having control of my time, and living a sensually spiritual lifestyle and being authentically delicious 100% of my time.  La-la-la-laaaaa…

Enter a contracting economy.  With a dwindling client base and mounting financial stress I decided to get a daytime office contract gig.  Nothing ambitious, just something easy that yields a predictable base pay and requires no overtime.  But of course, nothing could be so easy for me.  Just shifting the remaining clients from daytime to evening, going on the short commute (to the other side of my neighborhood), doing some boring paperwork, and then coming back to my delicious life.  Not quite.  I ended up in a slightly different (higher) position than I had applied for.  Word got out quickly that I’m also a lawyer and the responsibilities quickly multiplied and I found myself being sucked into the miserable abyss of indentured corporate (gum-ment) servitude.

A series of unbelievable events occurred and a year and a half later I found myself popped right into a real legal position under the wings of two top-notch mentors from my alma mater, earning a decent keep.  Wha?  Nooooooo!  This was not what I intended to happen!  I thought I was leaving all this behind when I founded LifeBliss Solutions.  I wondered what would happen to my delicious life now?  But this opportunity is one I could not refuse.  So in the true spirit of sensual spirituality I decided to take it on, and just go with it.  It was undeniable that I could shore up resources for the future of LifeBliss for years to come.  I didn’t only decide to go with this, I decided to bring my delicious life along with me.

Living a delicious life does not mean always being free to do whatever you want, whenever you want.  I’d almost forgotten that it means always making the best of what you have in the present moment.  After all, it has been my life work to help others live deliciously, whatever their current circumstance may be.  Now I had the opportunity to demonstrate in real-time.

I happily took on the new challenge and obtained the necessary assistance with LifeBliss’s functions, which I now have ample resources to procure.  There are many bright sides to this spot I am in right now and since I am more comfortable that LifeBliss Solutions will continue to thrive and support the mission to change the world, one person at a time, I feel fully delicious again.  It’s as though I have one foot on two different paths and I like it. With me, things never go as the textbook predicts.  So I’ll just go with it.

Raw Vegan Thursdays and Chocolate Cake Fridays

I decided to take on a new challenge, and inevitably drag my friends, family, and coworkers into it. Raw vegan Thursdays. It may get me over the last 5 lbs to lose plateau as well as train my palate to enjoy more healthy, natural fruits and vegetables.

Meemo's Kitchen blogOn raw vegan Thursdays we will eat only raw foods, and no dairy, meat, or other animal products. Now, unlike some raw vegan extremists, I will not be purchasing any expensive kitchen gadgets, growing sprouts in my kitchen, or using enzymes to make the food into something it is not. I’m not eating any raw vegan fake meat or bread, because since I am an omnivore, I can eat real meat and bread when I feel like it. Anything that was not intended by nature to be eaten raw will not be eaten by me on raw vegan Thursdays.

It will be challenging, a little fun, and unconventional but I am sure there will be benefits. Want to try it? We start this Thursday.

One coworker suggested that we chase raw vegan Thursdays with chocolate cake Fridays. Sounds like a plan!

I’m Not a Cat Person but Oh, How I Loved My Kitty, Ziggy

Ziggy was our cat for about 5 years. We adopted him from another owner who adopted him from the shelter but discovered she was allergic.  He was tall, handsome, macho, and bad as hell. He loved to kick over the kitchen trash around 4 in the morning. He didn’t want us to know that he loved chicken tenders or french fries, so if we tried to give him one he’d roll his eyes and refuse. But if you left that food unattended for a second he’d snatch a tender or fry and take off somewhere. When we got him he was not very affectionate but over the past year or so he would climb onto my lap, but only late at night after everybody went to bed or when he wanted my attention while my best friend visited.

According to my husband, he and Ziggy had an ongoing battle for “control of the household”. I can’t verify that but Ziggy definitely preferred pretty girls and ladies, especially those with curly hair, to anyone male.

Ziggy recently became very ill and had to be put to sleep.  I’d never lost a pet before so I had no idea how much heartbreak ensues for the family.   I still wake up in the morning looking to see what mess he made overnight.  I look for him when I come home.  He was so funny and quirky but also snotty and aloof.  He was a gorgeous big, burly tiger.  But, so goes the cycle of life.  I love you Ziggyboo.

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