Nobody's Perfect

So I spent the day in Grand Lake, LA.

Most of the time, I was standing around, waiting with a co-worker. Joe Biden returned to Cameron Parish, which was destroyed by Hurricane Rita. You know that other storm that was retired with Katrina? He came here in 2006 as a senator from Delaware. He was the only non-Louisiana politician to come to southwest Louisiana. And two days after burying his mother, he came back.

All of that is a pointless tangent. The point is, the Secret Service made us show up two hours before he got there. I was doing video, but my co-worker, who was writing rode with me. We set up, checked everything, then were kicked out of the room, with nothing more than my wallet and car keys, so they could do a sweep of the entire apartment complex we were in. And go through my camera equipment to make sure it wasn't a bomb. lol.

When we returned an hour later, as we were instructed, they still weren't done. By this time, it was raining and extremely windy. To the point where my umbrella was pretty much pointless. After walking half a block in this weather, we were told nicely by an agent that we had to walk back. He then proceeded to apologize profusely for the inconvenience. Did I mention that he was standing in this same weather, with no umbrella. Just a long black trench coat, that was soaked, along with his hair. When we were finally allowed to enter, he apologized again. Then directed up to the guys with metal detectors. I had a car with a working heater. He HAD to stand in the 30 degree weather, with wind and rain.

I mention all of this to say, what happened at the White House state dinner was unacceptable. The Secret Service and the white house social calendar people (or whatever they're called) should have coordinated and made sure these random three lames did not get in. But if an organization is run by humans, there is always a chance for human error.

Many would say the Secret Service doesn't have the option of making an error. I would say, everything is easier said than done. I would also say that when a detail is in place, there is one agent who is designated as the person who jumps in front of a bullet. Yes, this person is told flat out, "if bullets start flying, you need to stand in front of the president or vice president" and they nod and accept it. They also practice it!

So while people want to harp on this one screw up by the Secret Service, I wish they would stop and realize how many other times these agents go it right. And yes, I know all of this could have gone a different way. The Salads (or whatever their name is) and that other guy could have had anthrax or C4. It would have been a wrap, as far as leading the free world. I could have gone another way. But so could have 9/11 and I really wish that turned out differently.

These guys work hard. And they have admitted their extreme screw up. It didn't turn out for the worse. So give them some credit. I'm not jumping in front of a bullet. EVER.

The Men at Christmas

For some reason I always keep coming back to that. I was very sad that I wasn't spending Christmas eve in a kitchen, drinking and cooking with my aunts. But I also remember, during the past 24 Christmas eves that I spent in the kitchen with my aunts, I always thought about the men on Christmas.

On my mom's side: My uncles and cousins. They are on the back porch or in the living room, drinking and talking. Nothing serious. They aren't loud. They never have been (most them at least). But they are everything that makes me love black men.

My twin uncles. They are a carpenter and mechanic. I've always loved tall men. They are 6'7'. And they can cook. You know I love food!! My other uncles, despite being engineers or any number of desk jobs, I remember their time in the Southern University marching band. Their pictures from before I was born are still proudly displayed. They smile all the time. My cousin's husband. He's a small, quiet man. And he fits right in with his domestic beer in hand. I remember when she was pregnant and his greatest fear was that he wouldn't be the perfect role model to his soon to be born son. I assure you sir, you are.

On my dad's side. My dad and his brothers. My dad is talking about one of his three daughters. My uncle, his oldest brother, is telling everyone why they are wrong and he is right. :) His arguments usually make no sense, but are so entertaining to hear.

And on to the women. My aunts (my mother's sisters) comparing me and my cousins or recalling some crazy incident from when were little. Everything we did as little kids, explains our actions now. They knew it back then. :)

On my dad's side, his two sisters insisting that the youngest cousin is a reincarnation of me. This is the new argument. I apparently am also the female version of my dad. All of which me and the cuzo shoot down by saying the cloned person has to be dead. LOL. As we continue our equally snarky remarks, we insist that not only do we not look alike, but our personalities are not alike. I mean, it's only DNA.

And it's only a blessing that I have such a wonderful family. :)

Missed My Anniversary

The beginning of November was my two-year anniversary in Lake Charles. I think God made me forget because I have been working on not being so negative, so I needed the extra two weeks to remember all of the good stuff. Plus, working two jobs is hard. But I love both of my jobs.

Anyway, in my two years here, I have learned a bunch of web stuff. Who would have ever thought that I'd have HTML code memorized? #nerdalert Not a lot, but enough. I was part of a group of reporters who won first place for Hurricane Ike coverage.

I've written lots of other things I'm individually proud of. And overall I've grown as a writer. It's safe to say I had very little idea as to what I was doing when I first got here. I always learn best my actually doing things, so I needed to get my hands dirty.

All of that is a blessing and I'm thankful for it.

Woman Up!....

No one is coming to save you! And that shit ain't cute!

I watched this morning, as a woman proceeded to bring up something from three years ago, that she really had no business asking about and, she did it in an inappropriate and immature fashion. She proceeded to post all of her actions on facebook as a way to "feel better." What she more than likely did was make herself look like a complete idiot. All over a man that she approached the wrong way, expecting a right outcome.

All of this pissed me off because I am reading "The Conversation" by Hill Harper and I'm kinda mad I haven't had a chance to read as fast as I would like. But his whole premise is that for 400 years, multiple factors have been trying to destroy black relationships and it's finally worked with our exorbitant number of divorces and children born into single-parent homes.

In all of his encounters and interviews, everyone says, "I love black women" or "I love black men, BUT...." There is always a caveat as an excuse to go to something negative about the opposite sex, so that is what Hill feels is preventing the relationships and causing them to fall apart.

While I agree, I think that is only about 30 percent of the issue. Especially if the woman didn't grow up in an abusive or otherwise unstable household. This chick did not. So the other 70 percent is SELFISHNESS!

Our generation is all about US. We never had to really struggle for anything so we have never had to compromise or work with someone to build something and that is what a freaking relationship is! But too many people my age don't see it that way and then wonder why they aren't happy.

I don't say all this to appear holier than thou. Despite my loner ways, I wouldn't mind having a boyfriend, but I can't really be out there trolling for a man. That's kind of beside the point because in here case, she thought a one-night stand could turn into a husband. That's so #fail sweetie.

I don't expect her to change her ways, but I had to express my anger somewhere. Because I know her whole back story and I've had to fight all day, not to put her on blast on facebook. And I won't do it for the same reasons that I don't condone her actions: I do not have time to be out somewhere acting like my parents didn't raise me right. And that foolywang she's pulling screams "I HAVE NO HOME TRAININ'!!!"

And finally, she knows she don't "feel better" after doing that foolishness. She did this around 10 a.m. this morning. She wasn't "feeling good" then. She was clearly full of anger and pain and I know she don't feel good now. It didn't change anything. He ain't thinking about you. I don't say that to sound super mean. It's what I think when I feel a past hurt creeping into the forefront on my memory.

Vanessa to self: "yeah it was messed up. that isn't in dispute, but what is dwelling on it gonna do? have you sitting here all mad and he's gone about his business and probably forgot about it. so you need to keep it movin' too."

Is This What It Takes

The past month has not been fun as my father is going through his fourth divorce. Yes, fourth. I have been on the front lines of all of them because me and my father are very close and I can always see it coming. Even when I prayed about the last two hoping, by some divine act it would work. But the things you want are not always what God wants. I guess I should have been praying for my father to be happy. He hasn't been in a long time. He's said more than once, that he doesn't like being alone and I believe that has contributed to these misguided unions.

I think a better description is that he's not used to being alone. He was married to my mother for 13 years. There were together for a total of 21 1/2 years. They both seemed to have the old school belief that marriage is hard and it's about building something together. My mother eventually let go of that. So I think her filing for divorce was traumatizing to him. Not only was this something he couldn't fix (and my father believes he can fix anything) but this was his life. Broken, with no way or chance to put it back together.

He's talked about how he begged my mother to the point where she stopped answering the phone. He then wrote her letters. But to no avail. And this is not meant to blame my mother for my father's misery. He just passed 60 years of age, he is more than culpable in this situation. My mother saw things differently from my father and I only know the basics of why she filed for divorce and they are valid. I have considered asking her for more details, but as I have said before me and my mother don't talk and I'm not sure how to get past that just yet.

I have prayed about my father's situation and I think this divorce is what has really knocked some sense into him so he won't be trolling for the next woman to shack up with and then marry. He somehow, for these three divorces, forgot or decided that he didn't have to put in the time and work that he did for his 13-year marriage that produced me and my sisters and an upbringing that I greatly appreciate.

So I know my father will be OK. Every time I pray, I feel like the divorce process will suck greatly (what can be fun about it?) but he'll be fine as far as possessions. He just has to now become OK with being by himself. I thought of all of this because I was talking to a friend about my past two years of singledom (sp?) I can't say it's perfect, but you have to be alone for a while to not only be OK with being alone, but also you gotta work some stuff from past relationships out of your system. They ended for a reason and I am really big on not taking baggage into a new relationship.

Now to not worry about my father all the time....

Making Fun of Myself

When I first got hired at the radio station, I started listening to myself as much as possible, because I needed to cut all of that down. So here are a few of the words, I had to fix.

Iran - pronounced I-Ran. (it's supposed to be ear-ran) Now I hear these hillbilly republicans say it all the time and I surely did not think I pronounced the country like that. Because I don't say I-Raq. I say "ear-rack" Don't know how I say one right and not the other. Anyway, I'm better now.

For - I say "fer" also country. I remember in elementary school (when I was still a stutterer), I would say "foe" instead of "four." I still haven't cut this one out after three weeks on the radio. I realize immediately afterwards. I think I'm going to start thinking of golf. You know, when a person screams "FORE!"

Parish (the term we use instead of county) - I say "perish" like someone died. I kind of don't wan't to stop saying it like this. So I don't know. LOL.

Also, Moss cancelled the football party. Probably all for the best, since Tebow, even recovering from a concussion, is a beast! I still love my Tigers though!

AND, my dad bought me The Conversation! I'm only through the first chapter and it's something else. Go Hill!! I don't even remember telling my dad that I wanted to read this book, but we have discussed the state of the black family on many a occasion.

Jinx!!

In June I told my mom that I was praying for a slow hurricane season because last year kicked my butt. Well if you've turned on CNN lately, you'd know that all of the South Pacific is getting spanked by typhoons (which is just what they're called in different hemispheres). So she keeps telling me that I sent all the natural disasters to the South Pacific. "What did they EVER do to you?" Yeah, me and my mom have a dark humor between us.

My workout is being completely revamped. After two weeks of no running (because I was tired from working two jobs. I know, no excuse!) I dropped the 10K training. I just started back doing yoga and abs. THEN, I found this workout sheet my college coach gave me. Every set of workouts, focuses on muscles you barely use. Lay on the ground and try and hold yourself up with one arm while lifting one leg 10 times. It hurts. I told myself I do his workout, but I'm not as much of a masochist as I was I was in college.

I think the Florida Gators may have lost their minds. Because they really thinks it's gonna be all good when they roll into death valley tomorrow. It won't! The homie Moss is having a watch party, so I will go over there.

And finally, I kinda feel the same way about baggy pants as I do about gold teeth. Those are no longer in style sir. It's not 1990!

I got to write for our food section. I had to go to an Abita beer tasting. They were rolling out two new craft beers. I am officially a fan of Andygator beer. LOL!