Social Graces



Cruxificiation is real
Excommunication can sting
Lack of Compassion can tear at your Fiber

But the God I serve
Served Me
Two People
who bore me
Allowed me
to witness every emotion
Allowed me
to Grow
Be Me
Today I choose Me…

Social Friends & Real Fam…stay or not
No more oogling
Pick a Side…
and lets pretend volley
no more…

My Open Letter…
If u are a social friend or fam member on my page ur there bcuz we are good. Malice doesn’t live here. Judgment has never had a seat at my table. I left the groups bcuz smiles and hellos can also be envy and rancor. Ppl use their in boxes as platforms and Carlos George (God rest his Soul) told me I am too Raw Open and Pure for most. Whether Naked or Clothed I’m still me. Whether trying to save my marriage or my Life I’m still me. When I travel and state I’m here & let’s get together…when no one tries I hurt like anyone else. When I move to the area of ALL the happenings and no one bothers to come near I Hurt. I’ve been up top for a yr with Nary a visitor and i practically LIVE in atl.
My door is open in Alexandria now. I’ve healed but I’m cautious bcuz I’ve given my all and received silence. So if you truly wish to vibe drop me an inbox. If not pls don’t just UNFOLLOW me…delete me. I wish you all the best & Gods Grace.

Because I had to…


You don’t think I wanted to be softer…
I could have acquiesced
made myself smaller
Less smart, more timid
Play the game
Snare me a man
I could have
opened my valley
exuded sensual aromas
to Entice
Betty Crocker, Aunt Jemima and
Chef Boy Ardee
Keep a man…
Would it have been
Should it have been
Losing Me…

Disproportionate numbers of MEN
by the Grace of God
PROPER upbringing
were raised
Meet, Get to Know & Love
A Partner
instead of
A Subservient
Are too few to measure.
And those that
Couldn’t, wouldn’t or chose not to
Simply Rationalize
By Branding Me

I will wear it…

So be it…
But what you fail to realize is
are willing
Love you
Support you
Sex you
When Im cared for in kind
I will
Ride or Die

XO, Amaezing🌹

The Exodus Chronicles




Funny thing happened on the way to prep for return to Richmond Va…
I realized

I didnt want to leave Richmond but Celestial Spirit wanted me too.
They knew i wouldnt heal there. That i would have EVENTUALLY allowed Sidewinder BACK INTO MY AURA. I never professed to have the wisdom of the ages.
I had to get gone and my penance to pay for my trouble was to foster my furry child. I wanted to blame him solely but we were both duplicitous in our unions destruction. Angel i miss you but Mommy had to learn how to love and care for Just Her.

Spirits did send a sign an implication and a SoulFriend in the guise of an Acquaintence who became my Season of Joy.

Somewhere around the end of 15 I noticed I was breathing better, easier and seeing clearer. Memories not only faded but became spotty less important. My agenda My job and My downtime boast a welcome and familiar Triad.
A Recluse by Choice…

Ok I told myself Im strong enough to return to my 2nd Home. Its familiar its comfortable I can be alone there I can be Accompanied there if I want to be.
My SoulFriend albeit BUSY is nearby. That might be fun…but would it still be me? Angel has a new home do i just replace her? And must i answer the door and allow myself to be bitten from the side AGAIN under the guise of friendship?

Each day that approached closer to moving insomnia set in, appetite waned, as did indecision and fear. My idyllic existence was about to be encroached upon. MY SOLITIDE HAD BECOME MY PEACE. MY SILENCE HAD BECOME MY REFUGE AND MY DISAPPEARING ACT HAD BECOME MY HOME.

I shut the circus down…


I can almost Hear Him say…WELL DONE



I had to make choices when I had NO
options. He was going to die. It was a matter of where and when.

No one in my ancillary family understood that or came to help me. In fact meetings were held to usurp me. They accused me, tried me and found me guilty sentencing me to Estrangment and Excommunication w/no parole.
Ive forgiven for my sanity and moved on. They are non factors.

Only with Gods light, my mothers spirit guiding me, my Daughter holding on to me and stepping up to the plate, my son in laws support, my bff ever present with me, and my love…(whom i had the good sense to remarry) buidling a fence around me…did i make it through that time to this.

What about the living?????

There is a woman named Theresa Caputo who is the Long Island Medium. Yes i believe her and believe in her. No i don’t think its just a tv show. Yes i drove myself crazy watching her and crying uncontrollably for almost a year after he died. I feel ONLY THERESA can ensure me i did what i had to do, CORRECTLY and that even in death He was/is proud of me. IT MEANS THAT MUCH, BECAUSE I LIVED FOR HIS VALIDATION, HIS APPROVAL, HIS LOVE OF ME….

Just the way i am…

GRANVILLE WHITE, THE PRESIDENT OF MY UNITED STATES, WAS/IS MY FATHER. HE DIED EARLY MONDAY MORNING JANUARY TENTH 2011. I was awakened by the phone ringing. i was alone at home with my Westie, Angel. (My Guardian Angel) I knew when the phone rang it would be the hospital and i knew he was gone.
My father and i were as thick as thieves. After my mamas death i was his road dog, his confidante, his stick partner…His Ride or Die. He was my EVERYTHING from the time i was born. No man measured up to him, no man knew more than he did, and he taught me mostly everything i needed to know to function in this world and to NEVER apologize for being me. He let me know i was SPECIAL. He let me know my life had/has meaning. He raised me to be a WOMAN in a MANS WORLD and if they couldn’t deal with me FUCK EM…AND KEEP IT MOVING TILL I FOUND A MAN WHO COULD. BTW-His name is Calvin Jones.

January 1st when i visited him at home for New Year’s Day we had the last talk about his health. He knew he was failing but wanted to exhaust every avenue to stay. He was NOT ready to go, he felt he had so much more to do. I begrudingly had to explain to him once more that we had exhausted every avenue and like a clock he was winding down and eventually it would be time to stop. At that moment i looked in his eyes and i saw DEFEAT AND ACCEPTANCE. I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT LOOK. I SHOULD HAVE PAID MORE ATTENTION TO HIS MOOD WITH THAT LOOK. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE CAUTIOUS. however i simply let the moment pass and changed the subject to something more frivalous but pleasant. I stayed till early evening and told him I would call him tomorrow like i always did.

Sunday Jan. 2nd i arose to go to church with my Love. On route to church i called my dad and didn’t get an answer. I figured he got up to go to church too seeing it was the first sunday. I resolved myself to call him after. After church i called and got no answer. I then surmised he was probably out visiting people which he loved to do on the weekends. Around 1ish i went over my daughters to visit and watch a movie…but i had a sinking feeling and I shared that with my daughter. While the movie was playing i said stop it for a minute and let me call Daddy. It was about 2ish. When he didn’t answer this time i started calling around for relatives to go by and see if his car was home and if he was home. I reached out to my cousin in law who said she would send her husband down to the house as soon as he returned home. I called the police and the emergency numbers in Palmyra and reported my fears to them. I was able to reach one of my younger cousins and asked her to meet them at the house. Waiting was AGONY.

in about 20 min i called back to the sounds of my cousin shreaking in the phone. She was crying and i could hear and sense her fear. She was babbling and rambling and i finally calmed her enough for her to tell me what they found. My Dad slumped over on the floor between the kitchen and dining room entranceway, having hit his head he had bled and clotted. His right hand was holding on to the doorway molding. I screamed at her to get her attention and asked “is he alive?” she said i believe so and that the paramedics were checking now. She said they had to bust the side door open and i told her that was fine. HE WAS ALIVE BUT THEY WERE UNSURE OF HIS CONDITION. It didn’t look good. I asked to speak to the EMT and told him my dads med hx and DNR were taped behind him on the refridgerator door. They told me which hospital they were taking him to in Charlottesville and i told them i was leaving now. I told my cousin to get my dads wallet out of his pants pocket and meet me at the exit where Interstate 64 and Route 15 in 30 minutes. I called my niece in Charlottesville and told her go to UVA Hospital and meet the ambulance and if they need me before i get there to call me. Thankfully i kept my dads living will and papers in my car at all times.

I turned to my daughter shaken but i knew i had to get to Charlottesville. My daughter dropped everything to go with me, and my son in law promised to go check on my dog. I broke every speeding law but i made it to the exit to meet my cousin, i hugged her and thanked her and kept en route to Charlottesville. When i got to the hospital they were still assessing him and wouldn’t let me see him right away so i admitted him and handled the paperwork. In what seemed like hours, they finally let me and my daughter go back and see him.

My father was stretched out on a gurney. My dad was 6’2 and he always looked too big for hospital beds but this time he seemed so small. His clothes had been cut off and he was covered with a sheet and blanket. He had a gash on his head and his hand was swollen from holding onto the door frame. He was agitated so i rushed to his side and whispered loudly “Daddy its me, Pumpkin, you are at the hospital, can you hear me?” He grunted yes and immediately started to calm down. I said “Morgan is here too and we will stay right here with you ok?” Again he grunted. My daughter was shocked but stoic, i could tell her mind was racing. For me i went into overdrive and started assessing the incident, his condition and surroundings, reading the monitors and looking over his injuries. My Dad kept trying to speak but couldn’t. My daughter was agitated and i was nervous on my way to terrified. I kept trying to make out what he was trying to say but couldn’t. It was not long after that that he went silent and HE NEVER SPOKE TO ME AGAIN.

I met with the ER Doc and the Neurologist. They confirmed it was a massive stroke and his entire left side part of his diaphram were paralyzed. They did not think he would speak again. I gave the docs his living will and we reviewed it together. My father wanted NO EXTRAORDINARY MEANS TAKEN IN TRYING TO SUSTAIN HIS LIFE. I was/am his living agent. At that moment the transfer of responsibility fell to me. The neurologist suggested we move him to the palliative care floor and monitor him for the rest of the night and reassess in the morning. I affirmed his DNR, signed some other papers and went outside to call my two sisters, in jersey. i explained to them that it was bad and i didnt think he was gonna make it out of this one. I told them you need to come soon as you can. (SOON AS THEY COULD TURNED OUT TO BE THURSDAY)

The Next Day i met the Dr. who would help walk with me thru this nightmare. Dr. Lee, Palliative Care Specialists and Neurologist. He confirmed the diagnosis and we discussed care. We decided to just give palliative care for the next three days and monitor him for any changes. He told me at this juncture, a feeding tube, IV’s and a catheter were not going to make or break this situation. I opted not to go that route. My fathers breathing was labored and he had quite an accumulation of phlegm which had to be monitored. (THURS NITE I ASKED FOR A TECH TO COME AND ASPIRATE SOME OF IT OUT, WHICH WAS ONE OF THE MOST HORRIBLE EXPERIENCES OF MY LIFE. AFTER TWO ATTEMPTS I TOLD HIM STOP AND NEVER DO THAT AGAIN)

Each day i would rise, get ready, go to work, put out fires, leave work and go to the hospital and stay the good majority of the day and then drive home. In between i started to prepare and make arrangements, which was scoffed and rebuffed at the time by one of my employees who i thought really cared about my well being. It cut me to my core. Little did i know the ancillary fam were kind of thinking the same heinous thoughts.

Weds. was D Day. Dr. Lee came to the room to talk. My daughter was there with me, as were two of my male cousins. Dr. Lee explained Daddy was dying and we needed to decide how and when. He explained i could put him in a nursing home with a feeding tube. He could not sit up but could be positioned to sit in a wheelchair will being tied and bound in a seated position for a couple times a day. This would not however stop the formation of “bed sores” and he would need constant turning and repositioning. He might last 20-30 days. Or we could continue with the palliative care, monitoring him and he would last approximately ten days and we were already four days in. He said that he could stay at the hospital through the weekend but i would have to make arrangements to have him moved to another facility by Monday. I was to meet with the Social Worker on Monday to see if we could get him into VA nursing facility in Richmond closer to me.

Dr. Lee turned to me and said “Okay Ms. White, what is it you would like to do?” I looked at him and I looked at my Daughter and then my Daddy. It was evidently clear THAT DAY…I said “This is not my Daddy and he wouldn’t want to be sustained in a nursing home, NOT LIKE THIS”. Dr. Lee said “I think you made the right choice” I said well when my sisters get here they will be prepared to fight this so i am told. He said “don’t worry I am prepared to meet with them and uphold your decision.” AND IN THE SPLIT SECOND MOMENT MY HEART BROKE INTO A MILLION PIECES…I FELT I HAD JUST CONDEMNED MY DADDY TO DEATH.
For the rest of that visit and Thurs. and Saturday (I DIDN’T GO UP FRIDAY CUZ THAT WAS THE DAY THE POSSE WENT IN ON DR. LEE BUT HE QUIETED THE NAY SAYERS) i continued to look for any signs of MY DADDY coming back to me. There were none.
Sunday January 9th…I arrived with my Love. The nurse said his breathing had become shallow and more labored and if i would like it might be time to hang a Morphine Drip. I concurred. I walked over to my dad and i collasped on his chest, tears streaming down my face…and i said… “Daddy I love you with my life but i cant’ take much more. I feel your struggle. I am gonna be fine, Morgan is gonna be fine. You’ve done all you can for us. We love you but i know you can see Mama and i know you can see Grandma Blanche. Its okay Pop you can go and God willing we will meet again” “Please I can’t watch you suffer anymore” and i cried right there on his chest.

When i finished crying I looked up at my dad and he had a lot of stubble and beard. My Dad had taken to wearing a goatee which was quite becoming but he was looking ragged. I said to my Love, “I can’t have him go away from here looking like this.” I asked the nurse could i shave him and she said “Hunny you can do whatever you want for your dad. I have seen a lot of loved ones but it is EVIDENT to all of us how close you two are. It is admirable to see your love and respect for your dad.” So my love went and brought some razors back to me and i proceeded to shave daddy just like i would any other time and talking to him while i shaved him. It brought the only PEACE that i had had since the stroke. My love and i sat with him and once he got the IV his breathing calmed a bit. We went to the cafeteria to get something to eat. We went back up to his room and i said goodbye and that i would see him tomorrow. I said i was meeting with the social worker to arrange to bring him to Richmond. THAT WAS NOT TO BE…MY DADDY WAS ADAMANT HE WANTED TO DIE IN THE COUNTRY AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HE DID.

Heres the sad part for me. I knew i wouldn’t be with my Mama when she died but i ALWAYS figured i would be with my Dad. But that wasn’t to be either. He didn’t want me there. I guess he knew that i wouldnt have been able to handle it, even if i thought i was strong enough too. He ALWAYS knew best.

Daddy did i do it right? Are you proud of me? Was there anything else i couldve done?
I miss you every single day….Thank you for everything….xo

Im a Nana…WTF?



I have two beautiful, funny, loving GrandGems…Mr. Mason and Ms. Peyton Alexander, 14 mo old fraternal twins.

Up till June 1st they resided in ATL. Luckily their Mommy, my daughter was chosen and accepted a position that brought the fam back to RVA. (Dad is still in Atl to close out apt. etc) She started her job June 2nd. Now with me being on Severance/Sabbatical (fancy term for NOT WORKING A 9-5) i offered to become full time Nana, with ancilliary help from Grandma (S-I-L’s Mom) if need be. Before you say oooh and ahhh how wonderful there are two things I want you to know.

1. IM ALLERGIC TO CHILDREN – i have spent the better part of 30 years avoiding children. let me clarify because i have three older Grandchildren besides the twins… My son has three kids and Ive have been in their lives up until the last almost three years. (separation my son and his wife and simple-ton wife is holding them hostage or ransom from us…yeah i said it) I love them dearly as well but getting to know them and be in their lives was/is no ez task. So more often then not I was the $$$ Nana, the help pay bills, keep the lights on Nana, and Bday $gifts and Xmas $gifts. Besides my Grands i do think children are cute, funny and such but i have been able to pretty much adore them from afar.

THESE TWO… STOLE MY HEART FROM THE WORD GO…Maybe its how hard it was to get them here, (Daughter high risk pregnancy, Hospitalizations, Bedridden from 24 weeks until delivery at 36 weeks) Maybe its because i was there when they entered the world, and Certainly because it was MY Baby having HER Babies…but i digress…xo

2. AS I STATED EARLIER ITS BEEN 30 SOME YEARS SINCE IVE BEEN AROUND BABIES – My daughter is in her mid thirties, so i have been blissfully ignorant of all the newfangled things in the world of babies.

But I figured im an Intelligent woman with a speedy mind and apt memory and could pick up what i needed ot know quick fast and in a hurry. I mean how hard could it be right? I had two kids of my own. Lest I forget…I don’t think so…I just knew I had this and was gonna be great at it.

The problem was I didn’t have nor had an inkling caring for TWO at a time. I was 18 and 23 respectively when my kids were born…I am 58 now and too old not to know better…that with age and uncertainty comes fatigue and frustration for Type A folks like me.

The first thing i did was equip the living room and dining room in my townhouse with the accoutrements necessary to tranform the LR into a day care type play room. I started baby proofing and setting up here and there and was so proud of myself for taking on the task. I was ordering and shipping and picking up rugs, mats, little tyke table and chairs, and rearranging furniture to ensure their safety. It turned out beautiful.

June 2nd my daughter started her new job. By June 4th I was starting to wane, by June 5th I wanted to say “uncle i give in” by June 6th i was out looking for day care facilities and by June 7th we sat down to have a serious pow wow.

My GrandGems WORE ME OUT…by six pm i was fried, frazzled, discumbobulated and every muscle that i had not used for decades ached!!!! They were still happy, delightful and loving, but Nana on the inside was a wreck. The biggest problem then became…not wanting to place blame where blame should be…ME, ME, and ME and my inability to handle the task alone…So knowing I had to release the frustration and self loathing…I became WIFE-ZILLA. My husband came home first every day and was met with disdain by the Femaile version of Dr. Jekyll…Ms. Hyde had left the building. He was also astute enough to see the physical and emotional toll it was taking on me. Friday my daughter my Husband and me sat down to talk. I felt ill equipped, downtrodden and defeated. I was able to tell them my dilemmas and they were able to help me with observations i didn’t acknowledge.

For one thing…i couldn’t be my type A OCD self and try to continually clean up, wash dirty clothes, sweep, cook and such with 14 mo old twins in the house. That does not compute. I was killing myself adding a monumental job to my already filled plate. Oh did i fail to also mention i have a soon to be seven year old Westie Furry SPOILED Child? Angel is just that but she too got caught up in “Mommy who are these little people?”

The discussion left me defeated, my daughter disgusted and my Husband somewhat determined to be heard. I left the room, THEM, and the scene to go up to my room to think, to berate myself and in TRUE Type A style figure out what the hell i was gonna do…

Saturday I rose with new determination. I asked for another chance because they truly do mean everything to me. We also decided to bring their Grandmother A into the fold as she had already offered and was more than prepared to assist. She has made a lifes advocation out of watching her other grands like some Gma’s do and she is expert at it. Plus she had been with the babies for the first year of their lives, stored her belongings and moved to ATL to be their nanny while the parents worked. I can never repay her for that kindness.

My daughter agreed and reiterated she wasn’t mad at me but she was too tired to figure out complexities and then attempt to fix them. I said lets do it together. #OldDogNewTrick…

This past Monday was a brand new day. They Like Me They really Like Me…and i LOVE them to bits. They are funny, smart, “cunning’ emotional and filled with LOVE as well as the abundance of Energy.

Im still beat, but not dead dog tired…and I am so glad I gave MYSELF another chance…

Somewhere My Mama is smiling…

Her, Him, Me


I’m not gonna be maudlin this year so let me wish you all a Bless-ed Mothers Day. My Mama is with me too.

When the sun shines i think of her. After my mom died i was obsessed with sunrises. i would rise at four and five and sit outside on my back deck and watch it. Some mornings would bring beautiful memories, some mornings would bring reality of the family struggle, the tug of war, the maliciousness that follows the loss of someone great. I swallowed a lot of tears in that first month after her passing.

I drove to Palmyra (approximately an hour and some away from Richmond) daily after she passed to check on my Daddy. Although two sisters lived in close proximity to him, one was caught up in her own grief and thoughts of what she couldve done differently for her mom when she was alive. It was unspoken but i knew. Guilt can be a motherfucker especially when it runs deep. The other sister had a grudge against my dad because i stopped her plot to gain control and extort money from him. She didnt speak to either of us for about eight months after my mama died. Her stupidity cost her valuable time with her father. Her loss….

He was silent, withdrawn and alone. Him being alone resonated with me the most. They had been together 55 years. I had no words of comfort for him the first week after she died. He and i were in shock and just our presence had to be enough to comfort each other. About a week had passed and my dad came back from running an errand (which he preferred to do alone) and sat down in the living room with me. He said he had something to tell me. He said, “each day since we buried her ive been going up there to see her. I don’t stay long but i talk to her. Then i come back here and wander around the house feeling guilty” i tried to reassure him he had nothing to be guilty about. He took great care of my mom. Like most married couples they had their times on the razors edge but they stuck it out and became each other’s best friends again. His next statement was enough to scare me into action. “i know this is gonna sound crazy but i wish i could dig her up and bring her home i hate leaving her there” I told him i understood and i did, but i realized that if i didn’t want to lose my father to a broken heart i needed to take him home with me. I did exactly that. I told daddy we are going to pack you up and you are coming back to Richmond with me and you are staying through tthe new year. I can NOT lose you too. I won’t survive it. We can help each other heal. He normally would have balked at the idea of leaving his “Ponderosa” but he acquiesced. Like me he knew nothing was holding him there.

After about a week passed by my dad started to talk. He would tell me how much he missed her and would share stories of their meeting and early courtship. He told me he chased and could have ended up with many a woman but he marveled over Gods miraculous plan to send him Mamas way. He also started talking to me about WWII which is something he NEVER did, because the treatment of Black Men in that war was so horrific. My mama always instructed us NEVER to ask daddy about the war. He now readily shared those stories with me. He also wanted to talk about his young cockhound days and the ladies he knew and the life he led. He asked me if he was being too open and personal and i told him, YOU CAN TALK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING i am here for you. At that point the flood gates opened and he felt at ease to talk to me. My father and i became bosum buddies at that point.

One day he was in the midst of a story and he stopped and said “you know what? your mama knew she wouldnt be able to stay with me forever and now i understand why she pressed me to have you. She gave you to me so i wouldn’t be alone.’ It was my most significant memory of my dad and me during that time. It meant all the more cuz my mama told me i would have to take care of him long before she died and she was so glad she had me.

Mama I still see you in the sunrise…and in the storm…and in the rain…xo
Posted by Amaezing AJ – TheReal

Big Boned, FAT or Phat


Today is a FAT day. we all have them. This isn’t a gender posting even though i will refer to how fat relates to men and to women. Generalities abound.

Morning comes and we rise, sleep encrusted, we shake it off and head to the bathroom. Upon entering the bathroom we come face to face with the mirror. The mirror is our best friend or our worst enemy. We look through the haze of ocular shadows and glide our hands over the areas we daily take to task. Today is a fat day for me.

I feel bloaty, i feel water retained, and my thighs look more cellulite-y then usual. My stomach has the familiar lower section pooch but it seems bigger. (and peeing didn’t shrink it like it does most mornings) My Tits seem to be slowly easing closer to my navel. At this point i stand straight shoulders back and i tell myself…Hmmm to have big casaba melons they sit pretty well. Faded scars from surgeries past aren’t as unsightly as i think they are my brain registers the one piece of good news. And i don’t even wanna get started on my upper arms and how they wave when i jiggle them. (but seriously whose doesn’t)

I stumble back into the bedroom standing straight and sucking in my pooch. my Hubs is up now and i want him to see the Goddess he fell in love with. He smiles at me as he comes around the bed to hug me. He puts his hands around my waist, kisses me and smiles. Whew, I got away with it, the illusion of svelte. As i head over to the bed to get my pj’s and take the dog out, i smile. I have a little difficulty getting my pj bottoms over my azz which causes me to start obsessing again and i frown.

Two nights before i was in the process of changing out my clothes from winter to spring. I look at the outfits that seem far to small to get into today or next week or this season. The price i pay for NOT exercising. i like most people SAY I’m going too but i never do. At this stage in my life im fine with that. (disclaimer i am NOT recommending this for anyone) I made a pact with myself to stay within a certain weight range and eat as sensibly as i can. I use the seasonal change of clothes as my gauge. If i can fit last years summer clothes i am doing okay. If i can’t by just a little bit, i still smile because i can fix that. If i can’t by a lot…i rationalize that the garments are old or cheap and i give them to goodwill. (Past three seasons I’ve been doing ok)

I pulled out the warm weather clothing while my hubs sat on the bed and watched me. He smiles as he remembers certain outfits and what we were doing when i last wore it. He spots several dresses he can’t wait for me to wear because he is a leg man. Thankfully I love wearing and can still rock High Heels. He grabs one of the dresses and says he would like me to wear it to church the next day. I love the dress but it is a size lower than what i have been currently wearing. I say to him, i will see but please let me pick out what i am going to wear. The next day while he is in his bathroom i pull the dress out quickly and start to put it on. Women can usually tell from the moment they put a dress over their head, if its going to fit or not by how tight it feels to get on. I was able to get it over my head and shoulders pretty easy. I had on my bra and spanx and i hoped for the best. The dress went on like a champ and it was fitting and holding. I smiled and continued to get ready. When i stepped out in the hall to show him he grinned from ear to ear, and inside i was smiling too. Sure i was smiling because he was happy but more so i was smiling because I was better off than i thought.

Men i believe look at their fat differently. Most of their problem areas are stomach, arms, chest and they view it individually not as a whole. A man can have a pooch and if its solid they call it muscle and if its flab they decide if they will address it or ignore it till someone brings it to their attention. Does it make or break their world? Not usually unless they are part of the NEW METROSEXUALS. They make allowances for it and keep keeping on. They are readily accepted by their fellow men and by society. They get more leeway in having to fix their fat. Remember i am talking pooch and NOT stomach gut, because that is indeed an epidemic that should be handled as soon as humanly possible. Without getting too explicit, not many women wanna ride crotch rocket on top of their man around humongous bellies. IJS. Men will go to the gym when motivated too. They work out and cut back and seem to lose weight easier than women do. They play sports to hold on to their youth under the guise of staying in shape. Whatever the reason if they stick with it sports also aide their weight loss.

Women, we are our own worst critics. We derive fat from several sources: freshmen 15, ovulation, menstration, baby weight, menopause and knowing we should leave certain foods alone but we don’t. Some accept it, resolve themselves to GROW and plan their lives around it. Accepting yourself is fine, but when you dress that overweight body in clothes two sizes too small theres the rub. Lately we see women squeezing into jeans and ending up with the WHOLE MUFFIN and not just the muffin top. Then they put a small top over all that and swear they’ve got it going on. In my day we were taught to cover a small roll no less the five ripple rolls of kneaded dough. IJS

Women also exercise to lose weight. I pray its for their own self worth and not for someONE else. I won’t discuss the Health correlation to exercise because that is a given and for another article. Women tend to work on problem areas instead of the whole. Magazines make millions off our weakness, reading about the next big thing in diets and exercise. It is knowing the ramifications of genetics, and cultural lifestyle that helps me decide how i choose to maintain ME. If i love me and keep me healthy I exude the very best of me.

i try to eat no more than 2000 cal a day. Usually i can stick to 15-1800. I watch my body contours and thankfully i still have a killer waist. (thank you Lord) despite cellulite I have banging legs, and my tits are original issue, lowered by gravity but all mine. I have pretty feet and hands thanks to my mom and im not too rough to look at.

There is no such thing as Big Boned we suffer from Big Bodies that fall prey to Big Obsessions. Conquer it as you see fit, as your Physician prescribes and your resources allow.

So in taking all this into account….today i will be lazy and fat. Cuz tomorrow I intend to be Fabulous.

2nd Sunday in May….Lordt



May 2, 2014
I’ve come to abhor the second sunday in May…(for Dorothy Elizabeth White) #1 The Bio…
I was born in 1955 to a man i can’t begin to tell you how much i idolized. (RIP Daddy) and to woman who was EVERYTHING to me. Her name is/was Dorothy Elizabeth White. I want to pay homage to the woman who inspired me to always be present..

My mother was born August 10th 1925 to Ernest and Mollie White. She grew up in segregated Virginia, Palmyra in Fluvanna County. She was a hard working child being the oldest daughter in the family. My grandfather died long before i came along but he was said to be a mean man. Mama “looked” different (or so he felt) from the other gurls. That and feeling that my grandmother “stepped out” on him caused him to be violent even at times abusive to my grandmother and my mama. Mama older brother Billy was the one who would intercede and ensure it wouldn’t go too far. My mom told me once she was doing the washing (they took in washing and ironing to make ends meet) and she was on her period. She got dizzy and my grandma told her she could lie down. When he came in and saw the chores weren’t done, he called my mama out in the front room and proceeded to beat her senseless. One of her siblings went out to get my Uncle Billy who came in and stopped the fiasco. He had grown strong and was my grandfathers height. He snatched the belt he was using (buckle first) and told him if he ever laid a hand on “Dot” again he would strangle him with it. My mom told me after that when she became old enough she would take day work in the white folks homes just to get out of the house.

Attending school ended for my mom in about the tenth grade. She became amorous with a man name Frank and with one thing leading to another she became pregnant. When she told him, he walked away from her like he didn’t even know her. Several months later it was learned he took up with one of my moms aunts. Dorothy didn’t let that deter her she kept working and striving and surviving. On a cold day in late December she gave birth to her first daughter, Doris. After Doris was born Mama branched out and would go to Washington DC for day work. Doris stayed with our grandmother and grew up with her cousins. She never wanted for family and love while mama worked and sent home what she could . My mom also had relatives in Philly and she would go there when work was available. This was her life.

In 1946 a guy she knew (from the families growing up in Palmyra) returned home from the War. He will filled with “Piss and Vinegar” as he stated and ready for loose women hard drinking and trouble. His name was/is Granville White. Mama not falling in the loose catagory would see him out in the hangouts for Negroes, speak and keep it moving. He grew a fancy for her. He liked her strong will. He knew and heard stories about her dad and how her boyfriend RAN away when she got pregnant and he told me many times that he felt she was a woman of character. He would ask her if she wanted to go out with him and 9 times out of 10 she said no. Well lucky him the tenth time was a charm. They would walk talk and share dealing with the present and wondering about the future. Granvilles older brother James had left Virginia after the war and moved to NJ. He told Granville to come on up to visit and he could get him a job. My dad was determined to go back to California one of his duty stations but when he got to NJ he liked it and decided to stay. About six months after he moved to NJ he asked Mama to come north. She arranged to move in with her aunts in Philly and they resumed dating and seeing each other. About a month after she moved north, my dad said he decided he wanted her with him and moved her to NJ. July of that year they were out walking and passed a chapel, and he asked her if she wanted to get married. She said yes and July 27, 1947 they were married.

In 1948 she gave birth to her second daughter in August named Paula. It wasn’t even three months when she discovered she was pregnant again. In July of 1949 she gave birth to her third daughter, Janice. She also went to Virginia to bring her daughter Doris to NJ. Doris would bounce between her two homes until she entered high school at Plainfield High. They lived in a cramped apt, on fourth street in Plainfield NJ. My dad worked hard to make ends meet. He worked at Johns Manville in Manville NJ and did a hustle or two on the side when money was needed. Can we say he sold liquor on Sunday when it was illegal but thats another story.

After Janice was born Mama got very sick. It took numerous test, doctor visits but eventually she was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. She was 25 years old. It hit sudden and it hit with a full wallop. She suffered greatly and needed help taking care of her daughters. It was so bad at certain points they didn’t know if she would make it. My father never doubted she would. He knew she was a strong woman with a strong constitution. However there were rough days ahead and a lot of medicine and doc visits.

Approximately five years later my mom decided she wanted to have another baby. My dad was dead set against it as was her doctors. Mama was adamant and so my dad acquiesced. She became pregnant and her doctors advised against it. They offered her a “medical termination” and she said NO this one i want. The apt where they lived was far too cramped to bring a new baby in, so with Gods grace My dad was able to purchase a home on Manson Place in Plainfield NJ. They moved in October and on the twentieth day in November she had her fourth, her LAST daugher Audrey Mae….(ME)

I had 46 years with my mom before The Lord called her home. Now She remains in my Heart and Soul forever. Im told im the spitting image of her as i age. Thats the highest compliment anyone can bestow.

As Lenny Kravitz once wrote “Tell me Mama How is Freedom”

I will always love you…

Fuck it…I Chose Me


Gday Luvs😘

Realization and Growth
Is a Powerful Duo
All the
Motivational Memes
in the World
cant help you
if you ain’t ready

I pulled the trigger
hit the target square in CenterMass…✌

Doubt with Determination
Possibility for Peace
Sensibility over Sacrifice
Whispered to Myself
“Fuck It”
I Chose Me….💜

Flying Blind…


Good Friday 2016 838 pm. Spirit Flt 821 heading for Atlanta.
How did I get here?
What a difference a life takes.
I never envisioned my life would end up friend-deficient, family-absent and partnerless.

I mean I went to the G&D school for loving relationships. (My folks Granville &Dorothy)
I guess the problem is while earning my PhD in unconditionally loving, Ride or Die
I also got a degree (My Masters) in Expertly detecting and identifying Bullshit. Needless to say one can work efficiently but often work towards negating the other.

I’ve learned to live w/o malice enriched with forethought out of necessity and not desire. I’ve often admitted I don’t like many people so I don’t engage those I find droll and of no recourse for me.
This doesn’t make me cocky it allows my free will to discern that which or who sustains me daily. I can work and interact with many but I socialize or commune with very few. I even eschew the regulatory work events unless I absolutely have to attend. My Coworkers and professional cohorts know it’s not my thing.

I’ve dated loved and married medium size life Men. I also had an affair. He was one who thought he lived and loved large. His belief was merely deeply rooted in his Southern Boy Lifestyle and upbringing. Over time I chipped away at every nuance, excuse, rhetoric, and entitlement he felt he had. Being me I fell deep and loved deeper but upon realizing as Aretha sang “I was just a Link in your Chain” I mustered all my Faith, Courage, Conviction and Hutzpah and told him Kiss my Azz. It took quite a while to heal but heal I did.

The Hubs all started with the best of intention. #1 was my Puppy Love and we went way down the river past love into the land of WTH? Moral never marry to keep from being lonely and alone amidst two popular and rowdy families. The Divine did reward us while we walked the required steps toward marrydom complete with house and dog. We had two kids My Heartbeats and my reasons to keep going.

#2 was my first foray into Cougar/Cub Territory. He was a Smart Cub but an adversarial protege. Who wanted to turn the Hunter into the Hunted. I Wasn’t having it. Somewhere along the line unfortunately I convinced myself that romantic lust mixed was Mensa was life sustaining and I allowed it to linger if not flourish. Until I intuitively decided one day I’d had enough. He left surly and it wasn’t until later I discovered that his plans for me might have bordered on diabolical. I literally stumbled into saving my own life.

#3…I married twice. Why? loss, fear, infatuation and his reasoning I. MESMERIZED Him. He was a cub too but I thought him being a common man and hard worker would equate to being “Like My Daddy”. For 10 years we molded clay into rubble. I am still kicking my own azz over becoming the sacrificial lamb instead of the equally yoked partner. I was yoked alright but by an Albatross. The Rancid Smell lingers still.

I was sent a SaviorFriend and we clicked. Can we say Yin Yang? However it, we, us were, was and are not to be. It sucks Major Azz. But as I’ve come to oh so realize.
If Someone Loves You wanting you should never be an issue. Nor do you ever have to make someone or cajole someone to want to be with you.

So here I sit. In my first class seat with my solitary life… smiling on route to see my GrandGems and my Heartbeats.

If Friends never again materialize It was fun while it lasted.
If Family never reappear….like the tree in the woods that falls…is there a sound if no one hears? Is there a tree if no one sees?
and Love…
If it Comes it Comes

But Pls
Come with Conviction not motive
Yes I’m AMAEZING but I’m also Vulnerable
I like everyone else would love someone to care…