I suck.  No really, I do.  I know I should be blogging more but I get so wrapped up.  I'll comment and browse other blogs but when it actually comes down to me writing my own.. I stop.  So my bad and I'll try to do better.

I know I've been neglecting my blog duties but eh.. haven't really felt like writing.

The work conference last week was busting my natural azz and it caused me to work on the weekend while getting a hotel room, but really couldn't enjoy the pillow soft bed because I was so tired.

Work is back to normal so I'm back to blogging. What else have I been doing? E.baying, playing GTA on XBox 360, rearranging my furniture and getting my feng shui on, selling things I don't need on C.raig.slist, trying to plan another vacay trip, practicing my tai chi and getting my chi in order, and that's about it.

Lemme see, back in 1999 I started chatting on Y.ahoo and with that I gained some friends that I still keep in contact with to this day, some that are closer then people I see on a daily, anywho I recently found out that this week one of the dudes I was cool with got killed down in Oklahoma. He was murdered actually and I feel all kinda ways. Blank because it came out of nowhere, sad because he was a sweet (in his own way) individual, angry because his 2 kids were in the house when someone killed him (thankfully they were unhurt), and sad all over again because his family and friends have to go on without him.

So with that being said..

R.I.P Charles, you were/are truly loved by alot.


Edit: I had to clear this up because of past incidents. He actually did pass away. It's not like the Makavelian deaths on blogger. We spoke with real relatives, actually in the Oklahoma papers and can be found on the internet.

I was thinking about Mother's Day and what the day means to me last night after that upset of a Cavs game and I came to the conclusion that although highly commercialized, Mother's Day is important. My mom is my grandmother and I have been calling her Mommy and Mama for years and I never thought anything of it until she actually stepped up to the plate and became my "mother".

You see, I moved out of my biological mother's house when I was a late teen due to abuse. Not just mental and emotional, but physical as well. Throughout the ordeal the only person that I could confide in that I knew would never tell a soul was my grandmother. I know it hurt her alot to see me crying and hurting but it was a promise I asked of her, a promise I needed because at that time had someone else knew, it would have only gotten worse. She gave me passages in the bible to read but as I read and prayed, prayed so hard with my eyes shut so tight that it felt I could have probably pulled The Almighty from heaven through telekineses. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and months into years without so much as a change that I gave up on Him and lost all faith that I would be saved. I couldn't fathom why He would put one of His children through such pain, I thought about running away but figured I would only be brought back. I thought about suicide as a quick escape but quickly got off of that because I didn't have the guts to do that to myself.

I was stuck.

My grandmother was the force behind what started a huge ripple effect, an effect that ended in my grandfather getting pissed and coming to my house, looking my mother in her eye and saying, "She's coming with me." I was scared yet happy, scared because this was the first time I would be without my mother and happy because I could start living a "normal" life.

Living in my grandmother's house was a huge change. I had to be in the house at a certain time, I couldn't go out to parties, the latest I stayed out was only on prom night but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I got to hear stories about my grandmother's childhood, she told me things about me as a child, things about my mother and when she was "sane", and even told me secrets that i still to this day hold dear. My grandmother has been my rock, someone that believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. She makes me laugh and can grate my last nerve all in one day and I have no idea how I would handle it if she was to pass away.

So even though I use every day to cherish her, buy her things just because, call her at 10:45 a.m. every day Monday-Friday, visit her on Saturdays and call her on Sundays to tell her about church, Mother's Day is her day.


So Happy Mother's Day Ma, you are that and so much more to me.


Love your granddaughter, Natasha