Fray | a SWIRL girl

Posts tagged ‘Fray’

Flights of Fancy

Yesterday this picture was posted on The Swirl World Facebook page, and it just tickled my fancy.

Superman and Lois Lane, indeed!

I wonder what each one is thinking????

Join in the Fray: How would you caption this photo?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 30, 2012 at 8:35 AM Leave a comment

Ever feel like your life has gotten a little too humdrum and predictable? Ever want to break out of an self-inflicted molds, defy your own conventions and norms, and otherwise shock the heck out of the people who think they know you best?

(People like my Mother – but shhh! I’m not supposed to write about her!)

I mentioned Monday that my technical difficulties threw a serious monkey wrench in my Cyber Monday plans. Alas, poor me – I was only able to snag one item. Not just any old item, mind you.

MAC’s Grey Friday.

When I first viewed it on the Temptalia website (and shout out to make-up maven extraordinaire, Christine Mielke who runs that awesome beauty blog), I was drawn by the seeming contradiction of the fierceness and awfulness of this product.

Think about it: Grey . . . . lipstick.

Fierce . . . . and . . . . awful.

I had to have it.

Thankfully I was able to snatch it up (which, unbeknownst to me at the time, would be my final act before my computer and my phone decided to go on vacation without informing me).

This fiercely awful lipstick represented an escape from my normal make-up looks; my ticket out of the boundaries of what I formerly deemed good taste.

Grey Friday was to be the vehicle I used to go way, way, WAY out there: My chance, Ladies and Gentlemen, to walk on the wild side.

To go out into the light of day (actually, night) in all my goth and glory.

To be wild. And woolly.

And fierce.

Wanna know how to be wild and woolly?

Step out of the boxes that you have created. Do something that is wildly and wonderfully different from those things that constitute your normal. Something that, if your friends and family see you do it – or see you in it – their sensibilities and preconceived notions of who “you” are will be utterly and totally shattered.

Go ahead, do it! Be wild and woolly.

I dare you.

Join in the Fray: What can you do (or wear) to be wild and woolly? Tell me about it!

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 29, 2012 at 8:36 AM 3 comments

The Reconnection

I’m not going to say the technical difficulty I’ve experienced for the past few days was this serious, but to have your phone and your lap top going on strike at the same time can leave a girl feeling a bit . . . well . . . out of touch.

I have to admit that once I decided to just roll with it, I did enjoy my little break from technology.

Plugged back in now . . . . .

Whew.

Join in the Fray: What makes you feel “disconnected?”

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 27, 2012 at 11:51 PM Leave a comment

Cyber Monday? Bah, Humbug!

My computer and iPhone are still acting wonky, and I won’t have time to deal with either until I get home later tonight . . . . BUMMER.

On the upside, I suppose I can view this as a “vacation from electronics” day.

Yeah, that’s it!

(Giving myself The Look).

*_*

Join in the Fray: Aside from work, what do you need a “vacation” from?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 26, 2012 at 9:30 AM 4 comments

~Le sigh.

After coming off the high that was last week (namely, celebrating my birthday, my Dad’s birthday, and Thanksgiving), today I had to deal with the extreme annoyances brought on by a wonky iPhone and laptop.

I’ve been unable to receive text messages since approximately 2:30 p.m. Thanksgiving Day, so, if you texted me and I didn’t respond – please don’t take it personally.

I refuse to let these events make me miss the posting challenge, so I’m posting this from my Dad’s old desktop computer.

From my. Dad’s. old. desktop. computer.

*_*

I’ll just leave it at that, lest the frustration that is surging through my body causes me to engage in self-combustion.

(Which, after a week of revelry, Louisiana style, probably wouldn’t be pretty. I’m just saying).

Join in the Fray: Should I upgrade my iPhone 4GS to the 5 – or try another phone altogether?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 26, 2012 at 12:38 AM 2 comments

We Live We Love

Mrs. Gloria Dean Garner Jones

We live, we love, we forgive and never give up
Cuz the days we are given are gifts from above
And today we remember to live and to love

~From We Live by SuperChick

Approximately six or seven weeks ago I cruised down the freeway to an early morning meeting. For once, traffic flowed smoothly and the ride was stress free. Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, a scene flashed through my mind, that of the funeral of a classmate’s Father, a popular coach and activist in our community. In that split second, I was transposed back in time. We were standing for the recessional. I could see my friend Judith, affectionately known as Cookie, and her family sobbing on the front row. That day, tears fell freely from my eyes, those of our other classmates, and of the countless adults in attendance.

Coach Jones’ funeral is stamped indelibly in my mind because it marks the first time I recall gaining an understanding of death: Its finality and the sense of utter separation it inflicts. My own family was (and for the most part, still is) blessed with longevity on both sides. Sure, we’d experienced the deaths of a couple of loved ones, but up until that point the losses had occurred via unexpected accidents, when we were away living in some foreign country or in another state. In hindsight, I know those deaths touched and hurt my parents, yet I realize they failed to affect my brothers and me in the same way.

We live, we love, we forgive and never give up
Cuz the days we are given are gifts from above
And today we remember to live and to love

On this day, the visual of my friend and her grieving family suddenly seared into my consciousness. I was startled, and taken aback. I felt the grief as fresh as I did the day of the funeral, and my eyes clouded with tears. I immediately began to pray for Cookie, her Mother, and her brothers and sisters. Thoughts of my friend and her family came periodically throughout the rest of the day, and I paused to pray for them each time.

Later that evening, my cousin Janelle called to tell me that Mrs. Jones had suffered a massive stroke, and her status was grave. Would I pass the news on to my Mother and other family members to join in prayer? I managed to finish the call, and this time I could no longer hold back the tears. I thought of my own Mother and Father, still alive and doing well. I remembered the fear and despair I’d experienced just last year when both of them were hospitalized – my Dad on two separate occasions. I tried to put myself in Cookie’s place and imagine my Mother laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life – and I just couldn’t. The thought was much too painful; I couldn’t breathe.

But with life we never know when we’re coming up to the end of the road
So what do we do then
With tragedy around the bend?

I prayed for Mrs. Jones that night; we all did. We prayed, and continued to pray for Mrs. Jones and her six children; our friends and classmates. It seemed for a few hopeful days that Mrs. Jones was going to cheat death, yet eventually her body was unable to resist the onslaught that had come against her.

Mrs. Jones’ home-going celebration was held today at 1:00 p.m.

We live, we love, we forgive and never give up
Cuz the days we are given are gifts from above
And today we remember to live and to love

The service was beautiful; filled with dignity and quiet joy. Heads nodded in assent at recounting of Mrs. Jones’ religious, professional, and civic service. She was a woman who was filled with grace and marked by a quiet, yet loving demeanor. To know her was to indeed love and respect her.

Laughter ensued as her grandchildren shared some of their memories and lessons learned. We prayed quietly for their strength, and then sat in awe as two of Mrs. Jones’ granddaughters sang “His Eye is on the Sparrow,” her favorite hymn, and as her firstborn son, Rev. C. Terrell Jones, brought a stirring oration and gospel message.

In Psalm 90:10, the patriarch Moses declared, The length of our days is seventy years–or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. We celebrated my Dad’s birthday on the 21st; he has achieved the “fore-score” years that Moses spoke of. With each passing day, I reflect on the fact that so many of my friends no longer have their parents with them. I feel like I am cheating, somehow. Yet, I understand more, and more, and more, just how very blessed I am.

In that same Psalm 90, verse 12, Moses prays, Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. I pray this ancient prayer, and thank God for His divine providence, and His gift of life. I’m doing my best to make the most of it – how about you?

But what would it take for the clouds to break
For us to realize each day
Is a gift somehow, someway
And get our heads up out of this darkness
And spark this new mindset and start on with life cuz it ain’t gone yet

Join in the Fray: What are you doing to “number your days aright?”

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 24, 2012 at 9:31 PM Leave a comment

My Favorite Urban Cowboy

I was thrilled tonight to see Donal, one of my favorite cousins. He’s in town on his Thanksgiving sweep, and also here for a funeral.

We rarely see Donal in anything other than his trademark western shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots.

Donal’s love for all-things-cowboy caused him to take me to my first ever “Black rodeo.” Not only did I see Black cowboys in action first hand, I also learned quite a bit about the history of Black men in rodeo.

I love Donal because he’s my ride or die cousin, and stood by me during one of the roughest periods of my life. He’s the typical man’s man. He can be extremely gruff and abrupt, but on the inside beats a heart of pure gold.

Love ya, Cuz!

*Whispering . . . FYI – he’s single!* Tee hee hee . . . .

Join in the Fray: Who’s your favorite relative and why?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 24, 2012 at 12:36 AM Leave a comment

Somewhere in the USA . . . .

Somewhere in the USA (Arizona, for instance) it’s 11:15 p.m.

It’s also 10:15 in California!

So, technically, it’s still today, November 19, 2012, and I made this blogging deadline.

So there.

(Guess who’s feeling like Homer Simpson right about now?)

~:Le sigh.

Join in the Fray: What have you been late for – really LATE – this week?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 20, 2012 at 1:16 AM 4 comments

I Am Going to Have To . . . .

. . . . Catch up on this blog tomorrow.

I spent a majority of the day without internet access and now I’m even more behind schedule than I was when I woke up this morning.

Tomorrow my day starts at 5:30 a.m. and I’ll have you know this Night Owl was already in bed . . . only to bolt upright with the realization that I hadn’t made today’s NaBloPoMo post.

I’m going to catch up, lest this be my fate:

Join in the Fray: What do you need to catch up on?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!

November 16, 2012 at 11:53 PM Leave a comment

Just An Old Fashioned Love Story

It was August 1956, and an Army soldier who had recently fought in Korea now faced deployment to a war in Vietnam. His best friend Charles (more commonly known as “Bully”), a guy he’d known since infancy, had been married for a couple of years to a very pretty girl that he was obviously crazy about.

Bully had told him that his wife Marie had a younger sister who was just as pretty – and single.

In the meantime, Marie had been telling her sister Helen about Bully’s best friend Columbus (more commonly known as “Nookie”).

“You need to meet him!” Marie gushed. “He’s nice looking, he’s in the Army, and Bully thinks y’all would really hit it off.”

“What grown man has a nickname like ‘Nookie’?” Helen scoffed. “And I don’t know if I want somebody in the Army. I want whoever I’m with to be here, with me.”

Helen was more than a little skeptical, even put off – yet she was intrigued. She agreed to meet this “Nookie.”

Plans were quickly set. They would all go out for a late dinner that Friday night after attending the wake of one of Bully and Nookie’s classmates.

Later that night, Helen pondered an incident that had taken place a few months before. She’d been on her way to work, and her Mother stopped her.

“I had a dream about you last night, Girl,” her Mother said. “I saw your husband.”

Helen literally had trembled. Her Mother was a God-fearing, church-going woman and very spiritual. Mother Zora was known for having dreams and a keen insight into people’s character and motives. When she had a dream about something, all you had to do was wait for it to happen, because whatever she dreamed was certainly coming true.

“The dream actually wasn’t so much about you as it was about the man you’re going to marry. He’s on the short side . . . dark, and extremely intelligent. He wears very nice clothes, and . . . . . “

Helen listened with rapt attention as her Mother described the man she saw in her dream. Mother Zora described the man’s physical and intellectual characteristics, and then moved to the most important part: His character.

“He’s straight as an arrow, this man. He’ll be a good provider, and you won’t have to worry about him at all. He’s gonna want your children to do well in school; want them to be somebody in life. Family comes first with him. He does right by his Mother, and he’s going to do right by you.”

Helen had met a gentleman since that fateful morning, a tall, extremely handsome guy named Ralph who was being very persistent in his pursuit of her. For some reason, she was never completely at ease in his presence, and Ralph’s pushiness bothered her instead of drawing her. It also didn’t help that he didn’t meet her Mother’s physical description at all, and he wasn’t close to his family.

Helen sighed. Marie had tried to tell her what Nookie looked like based on Bully’s description, but she still couldn’t get a good grasp of him from Marie’s words. She’d just have to go to the wake and see this guy Nookie for herself.

Marie and Bully were already at the wake, seated at the front of the church when Helen arrived. Her heart pounding, Helen made her way over to them. She spoke to Bully, then sat next to Marie on the pew.

“Well, where is he?” Helen asked.

“He’s running a little late; he had to stop by his Mother’s before coming here,” Marie whispered.

HMPF! Helen thought. This Nookie person was already starting off on the wrong foot.

They sat for over an hour, until the end of the viewing period. Still no Nookie. Bully had periodically turned in his seat to scan the room for his friend. Helen refused to turn around; she was not desperate! Even so, she had to admit to herself that she was a bit disappointed that Nookie hadn’t shown up. Whether she met him or not, the good thing was that she’d made up her mind to tell Ralph that she wasn’t interested. She’d tried to give him a chance, but her uneasiness around him and annoyance with him were two huge red flags she knew she couldn’t ignore. Helen felt a weight lift off her mind. Just the thought of telling Ralph to move on greatly improved her mood.

Bully, Marie, and Helen stood for the benediction, then turned to leave. Looking toward the rear of the church, Helen’s eyes locked with that of an expensively dressed man – a man who perfectly embodied the description of the man described in her Mother’s dream.

In that moment, it seemed that they were the only two people in the room. In that moment, she felt no reservations about his person or his character. She had no sense of uneasiness; instead, it was as if she had known him all her life. She had never met him, yet knew deep in her heart that her destiny was tied to his. Whoever he was, she loved him on sight. She felt in her heart that he was “The One.”

“There he is!” Bully exclaimed. “Hey Nookie – over here!”

Nookie barely heard Bully, because his eyes were still locked on Helen, who would find out later that when their eyes locked, Nookie had experienced the same thoughts and emotions about her that she’d had for him – he believed she was “The One.”

Three months later, Helen and Nookie married in a modest ceremony at Mother Zora’s home. The date: November 15, 1956.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Join in the Fray: Do you believe in love at first sight? Why or why not?

I’m blogging every day in the month of November as a participant in NaBloPoMo. Thanks for reading and feel free to comment!