Time

I was in a play in the 6^th grade and ended up with the lead role. I thought I was reading for a small speaking part.

It’s amazing how many lines and songs I remember from a play I was in almost 25 years ago. There’s a phrase from a song in that I play that often pops in my head.

Time keeps ticking away, keeps ticking away first tomorrow becomes today. Then snap, it’s yesterday because time keeps ticking yes, tick-tick-ticking, yes. Time keeps ticking away.

And that’s one of the main reasons that I don’t write.

Time.

Not because there’s a lack of it, but because I don’t dedicate any of the time I have to writing. As busy as I think I am, I’m not so busy that I can’t find the time to do something that I enjoy.

I know I read a statement similar to this while trolling the Internet to find out how to get over a writer’s slump.

And I know I put that principle to practice…in my head.

Guess it’s time to put words to action.

Lost

Long before I ever created a blog I used to write to clear my head. I never thought I was any good but I loved it nonetheless. Writing was cathartic. But it never came easy. Not the entries in my personal journal and definitely not writing assignments for school. Even those quick 500 word essays for school were torture.

Even though I love to write, I lament about it each and every time. In school I wouldn’t put pen to paper until the night before a due date. My procrastination was never due to lack of preparation, most times; it was just always a disconnect between putting what was in my head (which was a perfectly crafted piece) on paper. But I’d manage to sprawl some incoherent words (to me) on paper and pray for a passing grade. Nine times out of ten the paper would return with an “A” with some supporting commentary that what I had written in angst and turmoil was actually good. And I’d re-read what I had written and reluctantly agree.

Since I created this blog, unfortunately, nothing has changed. I thought it would. Creating a blog was supposed to hold me accountable so I could diligently hone my craft. It hasn’t. What this blog has done is place this self-imposed mandate on me to not only
”just write”, but to eloquently string words together that are relevant, fresh, thought provoking, soul-stirring, life-changing, awe-inspiring and witty…all at the same time. Each and every time. And did I mention that the disconnect…is still connected.

I KNOW I have something to say. I’ve exhausted all of the “how to’s” that I’ve read about to try and get past this rut so I can say it. I totally just lied. Forgive me Lord. I haven’t tried them all. And the ones that I have tried, I only tried them my head. But you did just read that part about the self-imposed mandate to be perfect every single time I put hand to keyboard (or pen to paper). It applies here too.

I’m so pathetic.

Help!

What do you do to get passed the rut?

Want a chuckle? My cousin just saw me tapping away on my computer and noticed that I wasn’t on the Internet and asked, “Are you writing a book?” Bwahahaha If only she really knew.

Side Part, Under

I know it’s still the year 2009, but the New Year came early for me. My New Year’s Day came some time around the second week in November.

Over the last few months, I have been uncomfortable with myself. I really can’t put a finger on just how to explain it, but something was not quite right. That nagging feeling, coupled with a very eye-opening incident, left me wondering about myself. So I began to take steps to get to the root of my comfort, or lack thereof, with me. I first started a prayer/self-reflection journal. In it, I deliberately didn’t ask for anything for myself. I petitioned God to move in the lives of those who I felt were affecting me. You see, I tend to carry the burden of others unbeknownst to them. I stress and fret and try to figure out their life’s problems and strategize how I can fix them without them knowing it. Sounds crazy as I type it, but it’s the God’s honest truth. I can’t carry that burden anymore and I needed God to move on their behalf so that I could focus putting me first. That’s so passive-aggressive but…baby steps.

Let me tell you something, journaling is.the.biz-ness! Writing all of my random thoughts coupled with some of my favorite praise and worship songs, ending with my thanks was the remedy for many a RESTFUL sleep-filled, worry-free nights. I felt great, but…

How was I going to start being the star of my own show? Because I realized that if I wasn’t happy and productive – doing what I want to do with my life, then my interactions with the people I love was not going to be “colored sprinkles on top of soft serve vanilla ice cream”. And then…

One afternoon I watched a marathon of The Game and…screech – halt…I saw the “Side Part Under” episode. The scene below, reached out, grabbed me and took a hold of my attention.

Freaky, sessy-time drama aside (because that is not what this post is about) it’s time to live my life! I need to dust off those dreams and move the stuff that’s in my way to attain them. Now I ain’t about to drop my kids off at the nearest police station because I don’t want them no more and move to another state to start my life over, what I’m saying is…

Y’all better get in where you fit in because Lisa is doing what makes her happy not now, but right.now! I’m not starting January 1, 2010, not once the kids are off to college, not once everybody else’s needs (wants) are met first. Some folks ain’t gonna like the brand new me but, oh well.

Are you a side part, under?

Hump Day Happenings

· Et tu Brute?

· Please note that if your Bluetooth headset is not working properly and won’t enable/pair with your cell phone, you should probably charge the device to see if that’s the problem.

· It took me 2 days to figure this out.

· If someone wants to do me bodily harm in my own house, just do it in the morning while I’m in the shower and everyone else is asleep. This morning the shower door straight slammed off the track and made a huge crashing noise, and not one person woke up to see what happened.

· Because of that lil’ incident, I have taken some ibuprofen and now have ice on my foot. Ouch!

· I have on a pair of gray chevron tights and they itch my legs something terrible. Even when I turned them inside out.

· How can it be that on a Federal holiday when traffic is supposed to be lighter, the Parkway was moving at a snails pace? Even the traffic reporter on the radio was in confusement.

· Blame it on the rain.

· I never knew that pawning library books was the new hustle. Read this. Straight madness.

· Smoked jalapeño almonds are DELICIOUS!

· Dear Sammy Sosa: Love the skin you’re in. With Love, Lisa

Madea & Sis. Odell are Sisters

The other day Maya Angelou had an interview on the Steve Harvey Morning Show to advertise some event that she was appearing at in New York City. Apparently, Dr. Angelou hung up the phone while waiting for her segment because the voice she heard prior to her interview, “...sounded like a minstrel show…didn’t sound like the Steve Harvey that she’s used to hearing…the one who’s always uplifting, blah blah blah…”

The “minstrel show” that Dr. Angelou was hearing was Steve’s rendition of Sister Odell. Sister Odell appeared on the morning show that day because of some foolish strawberry letter that had been read the segment before and her comedic appearance was not only encouraged by Steve’s teammates, but it was needed. And it was funny to boot.

Y’all know Sis. Odell, right? She’s the seasoned saint that most of us knew while growing up in the church. She’s the older lady that wore the veiled church hats on top of perfectly styled wig, colorfully printed dresses, cocoa brown stockings and dressy, orthopedic shoes. She always had the red-n-white “church” mints in her pocketbook and the wad of folded up K.leenex in her purse for your snotty nose. Sometimes, she would pronounce words incorrectly when she read the church announcements; sometimes she’d ramble on when giving her testimony; and other times (albeit rare), she’d let out a lil’ curse word. But what Sister Odell also did was drop some straight up knowledge on the young folks. She didn’t take kindly to foolishness and held no cut cards in telling you when you were dead wrong or just plain dumb. And she always did it in love…bless her heart.

Sidebar: Why is the portrayal of the church lady almost always a man dressed as a woman?



I read on a message board about what happened and the general consensus was that Dr. Angelou was a respected elder in our collective community who was putting Steve in his place and that Steve did right by letting her say her peace and move on with the interview (although he did get a dig in on the low-low). But something didn’t settle with me.

I figured out what it was on my ride home that evening, Sister Odell and Madea are likely sisters. And last I checked Dr. Angelou was front row and center at one of Madea’s minstrel shows named Madea’s Family Reunion. In that movie, Dr. Angelou not only witnessed, but she also participated in scenes with Sister Odell Madea. Hmmmhh, wonder what’s the difference?

While I agree that Steve handled the situation properly, somebody needs to respectfully check Dr. Maya on this one.

What’s your take on the situation? Dr. Angelou on Steve Harvey