Some things never change....

Things you can count on when taking a road trip with the Etheridge Family:

1. Minimum bathroom breaks.

2. Stop at a hotel? Heck no!! We drive straight to our destination, or we sleep curled up in our car.

3. Grandma can always be counted on for random conversation, and often times talking to herself. You might even be woken up at 3am to the sound of hymns. She reads almost every sign that passes by, and will always ask "where are we now" every half hour.

4. Mom is a side seat driver who pushes her imaginary break pedal hard enough to touch the pavement. She flinches at every truck, care, or motorcycle that passes in front, behind, or beside us. NEVER sleeps no matter what time it is or whose driving.

5. Dad is a machine when is comes to driving. He can drive straight through the night, even if he's tired as a dog. Every now and then he'll drift onto the shoulder and wake himself up with that annoying sound the ridges on the road make. Earth Wind and Fire, and Stevie wonder keep him company for hours while he hits outrageous high notes, imitates the band, and whistles the tunes. My dad's snack of choice is anything salty, sweet, crunchy, cheesy, or artificially flavored to any degree. But always needs water to drink.

6. Some how fried chicken always sneaks its way into our car....weird.

7. Mom can't drive in the middle of the night without something hot to drink, and a snack. Only on long trips do I think my mom is addicted to coffee. She can only go the long haul if she snacks her way from state to state.

8. I fall asleep before we hit the highway.

9. My dad argues with my mom because she keeps side seat driving. My mom fusses with my grandmother because she won't stop talking. Grandma gets mad because dad has his music too loud. I beg my mother to go to sleep and take a nap. Dad says we pee too much. And we usually have to tell Grandma we're still in Virginia about 3 times. And the chicken never lasts very long.

Gotta love it. I know I do.

Home Sweet Home....

I am back in my home state of Massachusetts, and I am surprisingly really happy to be here. Usually I dread coming home to my small suburban town because I always run into those old high school "friends" who you haven't seen in like 5 or 6 years. And it will just so happen to be the day I go out to the store in a weird outfit, or just look like a hot mess that I see someone I know. It's like a premature class reunion minus the brand new dress I pretend I've had for years, and the bad DJ. Especially if it's one of those high school acquaintances who you knew, but weren't really that close with. Have to give the big fake "OH HEY!!! HOW ARE YOU??" The simple question dripping with nonchalant curiosity. Deep down inside we don't REALLY want to know how each other is doing, But we go through a nonverbal evaluation of who is more successful, or doing bigger things then the other person. The whole visit home is usually drama filled and annoying.
But there was something different about this Thanksgiving visit. None of that even entered my mind. I had a maturity that couldn't really care less about who I saw in the streets, or ran into at Chilli's. My one priority was my family. I felt like I hadn't seen my sisters in years. An overwhelming feeling of excitement stayed with me the whole 20+ hour drive. Like a kid on Christmas eve. Never in my life have I been more thankful for my family. This past year has taught me that when the chips are down one thing that I could really count on was my family. Before this new change in my life my family knew nothing about the things that were going on in my life. But I am again THANKFUL that I have a family that can see me through my rough spots, not judge me and appreciate my honesty. My sisters tell me what I need to hear even if it stings a little, my parents support my life decisions. And my grandmother is steadfast in her prayers for me. So this season, I am thankful for my family, because without them, I don't know where I would be.

Those were the days...

So last night after the evening service at my church, there was a basketball game at the academy across the street. My dad wanted to check it out, so we go in, have a seat and we're waiting for the game to start. First it's a girls game, and it's taking FOREVER to start because they were waiting on the refs to show up. So I do what I do best and start observing my surroundings and look at the kids who are entering the gymnasium. Back in my day, lil high school boys were scared to wear certain things for fear of being called gay, or just plain uncool. Certain colors and hues were designated male and female. But never in my life have I seen such a starburst of colors in a one place in my life. Boys with bright yellow forces, with matching belt, and hat. Lime greens and pinks dapping each other up in the middle of the court like AKA's at a step show. Orange jackets and purple shoes. Cartoon characters run rampant on jackets and down pant legs. But as if its not bad enough that these boys dress like they belong in the lollipop guild, it gets worse.

And here is where the comedy really comes into full effect. All of these boys, who are trying to reconnect with they childhood have gone a step further than sporting bugs bunny on their jean pockets. They proudly walking in bright as all heck with equally bright baby bags on one shoulder, and baby carries in the other hand. WHAT?? Oh my mercy. I'm not even trying to exaggerate this, but I saw at least four young boys with baby bags and infants. They were feeding, changing, burping, and rocking all while handshaking their boys, and hugging the pretty girls. I really didn't want to jump to conclusions, because maybe they are just really loving siblings taking good care of their baby sister/brother. But luckily I had the pleasure of the chatterbox giggle sisters sitting behind me. " Oh girl look at Dre with his baby girl. It's crazy how he's a daddy now. He's really had to grow up so fast." and " See how big Chris son is now. Wow. Seems like he was just born yesterday."

So I realize now I've been out of high school for a minute now. Not because my butt is no long equipped for extended bleacher sitting. Because back in my day when a guy got a girl pregnant
he either denied it with everything he had, or let the girl handle it, and took care of his responsibility by making is weekly home visits. But I see the trend has changed in that these little boys make children and show their manhood by actually taking care of them. Who knew! Well at least I know this. When they both go to sears to take their 8x10's they will look so cute in their matching looney toons jackets.

Forgiveness

Does anyone remember a shooting that happened about a year ago that involved a man killing some children at an Amish school in Pennsylvania? A man came into the small school house and held a dozen students hostage and killed 5. He then killed himself and left a suicide note for his wife to read. When something like this happens the victims relatives, give angry press interviews praying hell on the criminal, and states start to consider tighter gun laws. But here is the reaction of the mothers and others who were connected to the killings that happened that awful day:

"As they struggle with the slayings of five of their children in a one-room schoolhouse, the Amish in this Lancaster County village are turning the other cheek, urging forgiveness of the killer and quietly accepting what comes their way as God's will."

"The hurt is very great,... "But they don't balance the hurt with hate."

"In the aftermath of Monday's violence, the Amish are looking inward, relying on themselves and their faith, just as they have for centuries. They hold themselves apart from the modern world, and have as little to do with civil authorities as possible. "

I read this and I was amazed! A pastor at my church mentioned this incident on a sermon he was preaching about forgiveness. Could I or anyone of you be able to forgive a man who shot your child, or sibliing, or even your parents? I battle with forgiveness over gossiping "friends" or mistreatment from my opposite gender. Have mercy on my soul. Anyone who has done me wrong, Over time I have forgiven them.That's just in my nature.But it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. I am just learning that we should pray for the ones who hurt us, and lift the situation to God. The drama is not really with me and that person. It's that never ending battle between good and evil for my happiness or my self destruction. Me hating is letting Satan win. We wrestle not against flesh and blood. Give it to God to handle because I know if I had my way I would cut them out of my life and never be concerned with their existence again. But thats not how God wants us to be. After reading this article, I look at the grudges I hold, and find them to be quite petty and insignificant. Is it all really worth it? I don't think so.We could be unforgiving and be bound by the shackles of hatred.Or we could realize that the same chains we bind ourselves with, we also have the keys for. I choose freedom.

Go for the GOLD...

The battle of the bulge is still in full effect. So right by my house there is a Gold's gym, and I always pass it without giving a second thought. SO one day I decide, let me go inside and check out their prices and see how many perfect bodies I see. Much to my delight the cardio equipment was occupied with elderly woman who remained at a constant leisure walking pace. Upstairs there were a few muscle bound men grunting at the lifting of 100's of pounds, but for the most part there were plenty of equally out of shape people working their lil chubby hearts out. I breathed a sigh of relief. I signed up for a package that included 3 free sessions with a personal trainer (VERY EXCITING!) and the gym is open 24 hours so I can go anytime I want. I was proud of myself.

I was weighed, and my BMI was calculated (dreadful numbers) and I was ready to get started. My first session with my trainer was great. We just went over cardio machines, showed how they worked, and then we sent upstairs and did some weight training for lower body. Not bad at all. I said to myself, I can do this! But clearly she was playing games with me that first session and was taking no prisoners the second time around. This woman lost her mind. Whatever your perception of a nazi personal trainer is, thats what she turned into. Everything was different. Her hair was in a tight ponytail, not her free flowing locks I remember from the first time we met. Sweatbands on her wrists. Even her handshake was firmer. Lord help me. She was clapping at me, yelling counts, molding my body into perfect form while using the machines. Motivating and intimidating me all at the same time. I did EVERYTHING she asked, for fear she would yoke me up, and scream like a drill Sgt. Usually I wouldn't really be so scared, because I'm not very yoke-able but she meant business. Needless to say, my body is sore as alllll heck. I've actually had second thought about scratching my own head for fear it would hurt too much to stretch that far. But this is what I signed up for right? Gotta roll with the punches. I'm so serious about this. I'm down about 8lbs already and it feels good. I just have to keep it up. And I will. I'd write more, but my fingers are sore....and I have kick boxing in half hour :)

Sleep

Sleep

I fight sleep, and
sleep fights me.

My eye lids at war with
foundations of physics.
And they are losing the battle.

But gravity is no match
for my will to see a sunrise.
Hear a bird sing at dawn.
So I wait on.

But truth be told I
wait not for visions of
grandeur or sounds
of chirped melody.

My bed feels stiff like wood,
and head rests on cinder blocks.
Sheets feel like sand paper
against my skin.

The clock ticks tocks
my conscience into
a frenzied state.

What a web of thoughts
manifest and weave at 4am.
Mistakes haunt, and
decisions taunt.

What I wouldn't give
for a REM of a sweet
dream.

A single moment of peace
Away from the suffocating
imagery of decayed dwelling.

How dare these thoughts
invade my most intimate
place.

Here is MY domain, and MY
escape from the troubles
of the world.
Yet I lay mistaken.

Not even under the armor
of a blanket can I shield
my restless thoughts from
my journeyed past.

An expedition through
treacherous forests, dripping
arrows from gossip's soldiers up above.

Duck and cover turmoils bullets.
Tuck and roll past obstacles
I built on my own. Lay in the
brush while opportunity sneaks
by.

Over-stepped boundaries burn
foot bottoms, like lava rocks.
Coiled and sinking deeper
in the depressed quick sand of
my own failed ambitions.

Here I lay guarded at my post
And this is the actuality that
keeps me awake.
So I fight sleep
while reality fights me.

But eventually, when lid muscles
subside, and yawns increase. I will
drift off,
and let the real dream begin.

-Poetess

To Whom it May Concern...

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom this may concern,
Vague, for I don't know exactly
who I'm addressing.

You keep me guessing.
Speaking in dark corners,
Hidden in shadowed secrecy.

I thought to send this
anonymously. But I don't
cower as you do.

So here I am
Responding accordingly.

I don't appreciate your
fire tongue spitting
lies. Especially with me
on your mind.

Your weapons of mass
deception, fell on
deaf, and listening
ears.

Those who heard felt
better, to transfer info
like a chain letter.
So yet it continues.

So here I am
Responding accordingly.

You and your groupies hunched
in huddles like question marks,
Questioning my character?

Save the smiles for preachers
and teachers. I know your
Plan for slander.

So here I am
Responding accordingly.

To whom ever this concerns,
You can continue your campaign
of concocted distortion.
You are too insignificant
to be my concern.

-Poetess

Cherished Moments

So I'm living in Atl, and slowly learning that you gotta take the good with the bad. If I had my way I wouldn't be here right now, But this is the path God has led me to. I cherish the moments I spend with my family while I can, and I try not to take them for granted. It's the little things that bring families together, and I hold them close to me. A friend of mine was telling me how he doesn't know what he would do if either one of his parents passed away. He might not be able to function the way he used to. That really had me thinking about how short our time could be with the ones we love, and tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. And ironically enough, my mom and dad on Friday had to sit me down and talk to me about both of their wills, and plans if something should happen to them. I jokingly said, "ya'll aren't going anywhere". But I can only keep myself naive for so long.

Even my 86 year old Grandmother is precious to me. My parents lose patience with her because she repeats everything she says three or four times. And she insists on wanting to help everyone with EVERYTHING. She once offered to help bring a computer desk upstairs from the garage. She criticizes, and speaks her mind. And can't help but tell us to dress warm year round, and to stop eating meat, and always reminds us at 2pm to turn on Judge Joe Brown. But beyond that there is something special about this woman. She recites poems from when she was in elementary school, with as much conviction as Shakespeare. She knows the bible like the back of her hand. She never finished high school because of sickness, and she gained her knowledge from reading books while she was on bed rest. She can out spell most college professors, and she is the most generous person I know.

But tonight I knew there was even more to her when she cocked her head back and laughed holding her stomach at Jim Carey acting in the movie Liar Liar. This little Jamaican woman with mammy braids and a blue bathrobe couldn't stop laughing. And the funny thing is she has NO IDEA what's happening in the movie, but the sight of any funny face, or Jim falling to the floor is hilarious to her. I could have muted the TV and she would still be in stitches. So from the woman who always seems to speak ill words of worldly media, she has a soft spot for the shenanigans of Jim Carrey. Who Knew!

Cherished Moments.