Waymaker: Finding Peace through Song

So I was on my way to having a pity party today, then I came back across  a song that I’d shared on my Facebook page. I listened to the song again, and in the song, God spoke to my spirit.

I was really ready to give up. I get so tired of not being able to breath like a normal person because of the way that pollen affects my asthma; and I can't seem to eat anything without getting sick due to a digestive disorder that I’ve had since I was a child.

Honestly, it's been hard enough having to deal with the COVID-19 self-quarantine since I'm one of those people considered to have a "compromised immune system" and am more susceptible to the Coronavirus, so I can't even go get myself a cup of coffee from Starbucks, something that always relaxes me.

And I was beginning to hear that voice of fear that comes to kick you when you're down. I was not suicidal, but I was feeling very hopeless.

Then I listened to a version of the the song "Waymaker" sung by a man who's grandmother posted to Facebook him singing the song. I had hear it before, but it affected me differently this time. 

The first time I heard the man sing the song, I was simply in awe of his singing ability.  His voice was like that of an angel.

This time, I was in awe of how God spoke to me through it. This time it gave me incredible hope.

Tears fell down my face, and hope began to spring up in me again.

I know I have a purpose in this life, sometimes I doubt what it could be but I’m sure of one thing, it isn't to give up.

I feel God calling me to share something with the world; I’m pretty sure I know what it is but it’s been so difficult putting it into motion, because emotional scars of the past never really go away. Like physical scars,  they just fade.

I’ve had friends tell me to write a memoir, that my words might help change someone's life; it could provide healing even to those who have also gone through the same trauma, but not yet healed.

And I’ve started writing a memoir; but finishing it a different thing altogether.

But after listening to the words of the song again, I no longer felt compelled to literally crawl into bed and have a pity party. I felt encourage, by the entire song. But these words spoke to me the most:

Way Maker – God can and will find a way to heal my physical pains and get me through the mental hardship that makes finishing my memoir so difficult.

Miracle Worker – I don’t  need to know how God will do it; I just need to trust (and know) that he can.

Promise Keeper – He won’t break his promise to me. I will get it done.

Light in the Darkness – In those moments I want to stop writing, he will get me through them, I just have to call on him. In this instance, I called on him by listening to this song, which felt more like an uplifting sermon. 

I didn’t just listen to the man’s amazing voice, I listened to the words. And as the tears streamed down my face, I felt God say to me: “Stop worrying, you've got this. I’m here for you and I’m not leaving you. Keep pushing through.”

And I will. I will continue to write and work on my memoir, but without prayer, it may years before I finish. It’s already been two years since I started. So keep me in your prayers. Because I can’t do it with my own strength, I can only do it through the strength God puts in me.

FRIDAY FEELING: Peace and the Process

As I sat in my new luxurious office chair, munching on my pesto cavatappi from Noodles & Company, I relished in the delight of having a quiet day off. I was working from home and had the house to myself, -- well provided my 25 year old nephew wasn't in his room in the basement still asleep as usual. But even so, it was delightful!

I had become so frustrated with not having more work from my client (I was barely making 10 hours a week). But then a lightbulb went off and I realized that I should take advantage of the extra time to work apply to writing contests or fellowships - something I've put off for nearly 5 years because I was so focused on finding a full-time job. But I've realized maybe I'm not meant to work full-time; health wise, it's becoming harder for me to do the commuting rat race of taking a bus and subway to work; my asthma and other health issues leave me with limited physical energy and I get so much more work completed working from home. So I'm just going to work freelance until I find the perfect full-time communications job. 

Besides, If I can find a great fellowship, that would actually pay me for two weeks or longer to get my memoir or cozy fiction novel completed, that would be MAR-VE-LOUS!

But it's not just applying for a fellowship that I need to work on, I have so many different projects, I don't know which one to tackle first. I started the previous night applying for more freelance projects. There was the pitch letters to business owners for newsletter services; a real estate friend of mine told me that realtors can use this service and I realized other small businesses are willing to pay for it after I met the owner of a coffee and kombucha drink café at a farmers market who was interested in having me do a newsletter for her. So contests, fellowship applications and freelance proposals. Good grief - it's exhausting just thinking about it.

So I chose to begin first on working on my children's book blog, where I review culturally diverse picture books, because, let's be honest. it is so much more fun! It was in need of serious updating as I haven't posted much on social media or a new post this month. However after I finish that, I will get to work on the big girl projects because I'll never get noticed widely as a writer if I don't get a fellowship, that I am confident will ultimately lead to getting published - at some point. 

So that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. I have every confidence things will turn out magnanimous (I'm channeling my inner Ann of Green Gables). Peace out.

Sure, I can do that!

"April, would you lead us in prayer to close the meeting?"
"Uh, ok." I said timidly, beginning to pray a prayer that was a little befuddled if you ask me.
I'm not a timid person, and I don't usually get nervous when asked to pray.

In fact my brunch girlfriends always insist that I do it. I don't mind. I love doing so. However tonight when the committee head of our 75th anniversary committee asked me to, I was taken aback.

I hadn't probably attended a meeting in about a month, and in truth I didn't want to attend tonight's. I was moody and not feeling energetic at all.

But knowing that a newsletter would have to go out tomorrow, I knew it was important that I go so that I made sure to find out what needed to go into the newsletter.

A pleasant surprise that came out of the meeting was when I told them I hadn't RSVP'd for the Fall dinner because I didn't have the money. The woman in charge of securing the meeting location and logistics, quickly responded "you're going."

They didn't mind giving me a complimentary ticket at all. I was so embarrassed to have to ask, but as soon as I said I'd been unemployed for a year and just didn't have the money, they quickly made it clear that they wanted me there.

"You've done so much to help the planning." My sister in Christ Susan told me, speaking of the mementos I designed and ordered and the biweekly newsletter that I write and send. She made me feel like I had done more than I felt I had. Admittingly though, there have been times I felt like I was working a regular job, but I've enjoyed it a lot. My ADD has just made me a bit crazy at times having to attend the meetings.

It was good to know that they have truly appreciated me and the time I have put into planning for the church's 75th anniversary.  There had been times I've felt many of my ideas have been shut down and that I wasn't appreciated. It's an experience I'm looking forward to seeing the end when we celebrate the anniversary in October at our formal dinner. Just goes to show, when you see things through, God will see you through  - obstacles and all.

When God Speaks, Listen

I've been unemployed for over a year now. It's been a hella difficult year, and at times I have tried to understand why God has me going through this valley. I've been unemployed before, but never for this long and it's taken it's toll. After having a friend for church pray with me last Sunday, and dealing with the death of a family friend who's funeral I attended this past week, I feel like I'm about to come unhinged. But fortunately God sent a long lost friend to me yesterday to remind me that He hasn't left me and that I'm not alone.

So now I have to deal with something I've been fighting with for over a month now. I've been hearing God speak about something I thought about two months ago but abandoned the idea because it was something I just didn't want to do. It would be too painful and I didn't think it would be advantageous at all.

I find myself waking up every day hearing God tell me to begin writing  memoirs - something that scares the beJesus out of me. I've thought of it before, but my childhood memories aren't all exactly all happy, so I'd rather not relive painful memories. But God won't stop telling me to do it.

Oddly enough, about two months ago, I read a post about why it's important to write about your life because what may seem uneventful or boring to you may be helpful or even educational to others.

So today I decided to mention the idea to a friend who takes me to church. I told her about some of my childhood experience, and she thought that some of what I mentioned would be great reading -  even movie potential. I've heard God say this too, but I find it pretty hard to beleive.

What I do know though is that I would like to say goodbye to much of the painful memories I've been holding inside for over 17 years - scars from high school, heartbreak and even abuse suffered as a pre-teen. So I've decided to surrender, and just do it. Whether it makes it to the bestseller list or a movie screen isn't really important; what is important is that it will allow me to release painful memories from my spirit.

This is especially important right now because I'll be moving half-way across the country to Arizona soon - in the next 3 to 6 months, and before I start this new chapter of my life, which is sure to be an adventure - I want to release my emotional  baggage.

I admit I'm afraid of some of the reaction s some will have, and some may not be happy with some of the things I reveal, but they will just have to get over it - just as I will have to. Because as a woman of God, I'm ready to be done with fear and regret and welcome peace and hope back into my life.

Feel the Burn!

It’s been a long time since I went to the gym and came out really sore, but today was one of those days. I had a session with a personal trainer and he really worked me. He especially worked my thighs, and let me tell you they are BURNING! Afterwards my legs felt like rubber, so I got on the treadmill, and I decided to walk on a higher incline since I will be going hiking Saturday.

Everything was going fine until I decided to close my eyes for 2 seconds – just 2 seconds, but that was enough time to send me sliding off the treadmill, and I landed right on my butt, in front the other 50 or so other people working out in the gym.

Why did I close my eyes? I was watching a news program on one of the gym's huge wide-screen TVs, and the headline on the news program read that Robin Roberts of Good Morning America had been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder.

I was upset by this, knowing that she's already overcome cancer, and felt the need to say a prayer for her. I wanted to say the prayer right then and there because I worried I might forget to do it later. Big mistake! Next time I'll know to hit the pause/stop button before closing my eyes on a moving treadmill. That would be the common sense thing to do, right?

Yes, but the thing is, I’m really good at balancing myself on moving subway trains without holding onto anything, and I can easily walk on a balance beam (I practiced gymnastics throughout my childhood), so I figured the treadmill would't be much different. I mean, I can do the yoga tree pose standing on one foot for like three minutes! So I didn’t think the treadmill would be that much of a challenge. I was wrong.

I’ll be back in the gym Wednesday for another personal training session, and hopefully – I can pray - my thighs will have stopped burning by then. If not, that's okay, it'll be worth it when I look in the mirror 6-8 weeks from now and see how toned I am. Yeah baby! I'm going to be forty and fabulous and smokin' hot, LOL.

Pollen is not My Friend

The last week and a half has been a difficult one for me. I went outside almost two weeks ago to go for a walk. I didn't even make it to the corner before my lungs started to hurt and I had trouble breathing.

Next thing you know I have the most severe allergy attack I've had in over 17 years since I was diagnosed with asthma. I inhaled my rescue inhaler like it was oxygen for the next day, but then when it got to where I could barely talk, I went to the allergist. That was no picnic either. She proceeded to berate me for not coming in sooner or going to the emergency room, and then said "that's how people die." And then she said I didn't try hard enough to breath into her little machine that tells how bad off my lungs are. Hello? I am 40, not 4. Don't talk to me like a child.

So she puts me on prednisone for 5 days to stop the swelling of my lungs. I get to where I can talk again but am still walking like an 80 year old. After 3 days I'm still coughing, so I call the allergist’s office and she tells me to go to the emergency room. So I unwillingly go and the doctor tells me I have Bronchitis, which unbeknownst to me can be caused by air pollution, which in this case was the pollen. He puts me on antibiotics for 5 days and I go home. I'm on so many medicines - anti-inflammatory pills, antibiotics, Zyrtec, Sudafed and some prescription nose spray, that to say I was a little loopy is an understatement.

Oh, and I forgot the best part, I now have to wear a mask every time I go outside so pollen doesn't get into my lungs. This has been real fun. I've gotten all kinds of fun looks. Here's the thing, I know it's not normal to see someone wearing a surgical mask outside, but people are looking at me like I'm Hannibal Lector. Don't they know what the pollen is doing to people? I guess not. It's a crappy deal, but it's either that, or get swollen lungs again.

So even though I feel better, I still get winded easily and even having my mask off for two minutes to get into a taxi today have my chest feeling tight again. I realize I need more than just medical attention, I need supernatural attention. This morning I texted all my best friends to pray for my healing and am going to call my church to get on the prayer list - because this thing has got to go.

I've seriously thought of moving to Arizona or somewhere where pollen isn't as prevalent. Either that or allergy shots. I'm kind of a holistic type and really hate the thought of shooting toxins in my bloodstream, but I may have to do it. It's either that or hang out with the lizards and the cactuses in Arizona. It may sound extreme to some, but I don't ever want to experience an attack like that again. And if moving to the desert can prevent that, so be it. I'll just have to take a trip and see what the state has to offer. Stay tuned! I'll let you know how it goes!

Whitney's Gone

When an icon dies, it's unreal. When I heard of Whitney Houston's death, I immediately thought, they must be wrong. They got it wrong. Rumors of celebrity deaths happen all the time. But unfortunately, this time it was true. Whitney Houston is dead.

I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Not only was Whitney just talented and beautiful, she was larger than life. This was a woman who broke the Beatles record of having more consecutive Number 1 singles in U.S. history. A singer, actress, model, mother, and most importantly, child of God.

Yes, some liked to focus on Whitney's downfalls, rather than her amazing achievements, but the fact that she was a woman of God, should not go unsaid. Yes, she had flaws, but who of us don't?

I chose and still choose to focus on the larger than life Queen of the 80s and 90s that she was. A melodic, angelic singer that used her God-given gift of voice to make the world sound more beautiful. She was Every Woman, and she had more than 'One Moment in Time' and boy did she shine.

I'll be dancing and singing to her music as long as my legs and voice allow me too. May her music and her memory live on forever in our hearts.

Goodbye girlfriend. May Heaven's light shine on your face and the angels sing as they welcome you into the pearly gates.

Rest in peace Whitney.

Holiday Treats are not my friend

Oh my goody gosh. It’s cookies and chocolate and fruitcake, oh my! I told myself I would not eat any holiday treats until Christmas actually arrived. I’ve actually been able to do this the 30 days before Halloween in the past. But as for the winter holidays, not so much. It’s not exactly easy because cookies and chocolate are everywhere!

For example, when I went to work Friday, I was determined not to eat any bad stuff because I wasn’t craving sweets. But then a Harry & David package comes to my office that I have to sign for because my Executive Director is out on maternity leave. So I take the gift basket out of the box and set it on her desk, thinking the staff and I will go through it Monday when we have our staff meeting. But then a co-worker of mine insists that we go ahead and open it.

So I’m thinking, no problem. All I saw was some weird cherries and pears and some peppermint type candy. I’m thinking I’ll have a pear and that will be the end of it. No guilt related eating would take place. But what do you know? We open up the basket and there’s peppermint bark and truffles and caramel popcorn – oh freakin’ my! And it doesn’t stop there.

My co-worker Susan notices the tin that I also put on the ED’s desk. I wasn’t going to open it but she emailed the ED for permission to open the tin, which was granted. So we open it and discover assorted chocolates including chocolate and almond covered toffee. I did not panic about this at first because I had forgotten my toffee addiction that I had in my twenties (I must have eaten a Scor candy bar every week). So I take a bite of the oh-so-buttery toffee and oh-my-gosh – it was like someone poured buttery goodness in my mouth!

I end up eating not two or three of these candies, but five, along with at least three other types of chocolates, one huge piece of peppermint bark dipped in milk chocolate, and oh yeah – a pear. Now I feel like someone poured a pound of cement in my stomach, not chocolaty goodness.

As I begin to wallow in guilt, I also begin thinking hey! It’s okay! This is what adults are supposed to do during the holidays, eat goodies. Kids have toys and we have chocolate, cake and cookies. What’s the harm in that? Especially when I am normally good about eating healthy. I typically eat these types of treats only when they are sitting right in front of me. I don’t buy them for myself. And since I stay away from fast food and don’t eat fried food at home, it’s ok if I stuff myself with holiday goodness.

So I decided that instead of feeling guilty, my new holiday motto will be peace, love and good chocolate for all. God bless us, every one!

Thankful

In two days we will all celebrate Thanksgiving. I will also be celebrating my 40th birthday. On the outside, I'm cool and calm. I say things like I'm going to be forty and fabulous, and I will. However, on the inside, I'm beating myself up over the time I wasted in my 20's and some of my 30s doing nonproductive things like clubbing and dating knuckleheads who weren't worthy of me, my time, or my fabulous existence.

So, I'm freaking out a little, but deep inside, I am truly grateful for the blessings in my life. My father may no longer be with me and I lost the love of my life, but I am left with a wonderful mother, great siblings, awesome friends, and amazing nieces and nephews who help keep me sane. They all bring joy to my life, and have been there for me through thick and thin. They are a constant reminder of how blessed I am.

So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am sharing with you my gratitude list for 2011. Here are the things I am most thankful for:

1. Family


2. Friends


3. A stable job and freelance clients


4. Food to eat


5. Warm shelter


6. Cable television (without my favorite TV show Psych, life just wouldn’t be the same)


7. Sight, hearing and a sane mind (some days the sane mind is arguable)
   and last but never least,


8. a merciful God who continues to provide for me through the good, the bad and even the ugly (those non-angelic days I sometimes have.)

So on Thursday when you're enjoying your turkey and stuffing, and all the other stuff we stuff in our faces on Thanksgiving, don't just think about the one or two things you have to be thankful for, think of five or more things you’ve been blessed with, because there are others out there who would steal and sometimes kill (read the news) to have what we so often take for granted in this country.

And try to be thankful every day, not just on Thanksgiving. Because God brings blessings year round – not just during the holidays.

Peace and blessings and a very happy Thanksgiving holiday to you.

Chocolate, Dancing & Letting Your Light Shine

I love to dance. A lot. So much so that I get myself up in the morning dancing to Ricky Martin’s Cup of Life song – the Spanish version because it has more fire in it. Then I proceed to dance around like I’m a dancer on stage in a nightclub.

Is this normal for an almost 40 year old?

Do I really care? Not really.
Thing is, I don’t just dance in the morning. I dance all the time. Even at my computer when I’m writing.
I’m dancing now (really). It’s not really dancing. It’s more of a “wave your hands in the air like you just don’t care” kind of thing, but still, I think I may be a little hyper than most people who are my age.

Not that that is a bad thing. Or is it?

My energy today is unusual, and it probably is from the chocolate high I’ve developed from all the chocolate I’ve eaten today.

So far I’ve eaten 4 marshmallow cookies (they’re small, but 4 equals 300 calories), 4mini Twix bars and right now I’m scarfing down a 3.40 ounce box of M&M’s which I think is equivalent to two regular bags.

This is a situation.
I’m concerned because I used to get all high and mighty and say that people shouldn’t put those artists that wrote best sellers and historic critically acclaimed novels on a pedestal because if they couldn’t get creative sober, they really shouldn’t be well, critically acclaimed.

But here I am, drunk from chocolate, dancing as I write this blog and a new short story.

Is it because of the sugar that I’m so creative right now or because I’m seriously talented?

Maybe a little bit of both.

Whatever the reason, I'm going to keep getting drunk from chocolate, dancing around my room and in my chair, and being my animated self. After all, that's why people close to me love me.

The guy I've been dating loves it. He says I'm a bit of a drama queen, but he describes my silliness as "genuine and refreshing." In my younger sister's words, I'm just plain coo coo.

She keeps telling me don't let too much of the crazy out too early, since I just started seeing this guy. But after dating him for a month, I've realized he's a little crazy himself, which explains why he's probably okay with my silliness.

But hey, it's great because I dated a very serious lawyer for almost eight years. I loved him like crazy but it's nice to date someone that isn't so intense.

I've said it in my blog before, with all the madness in the world - child killings, terrorist attacks, and east coast earthquakes to name a few, we need to be able to let lose and let our inner child shine.

And I'm gonna shine all over the place.

Injury Won't Stop Me

Last week I injured my foot pretty bad. I had one friend who was a former paramedic tell me it was probably broken, reiterated by my brother-in-law who is an orthopedic assistant. So you can imagine my relief when I went to the doctor and was told it was only a really bad sprain. Still not great, especially since I have to wear a big orthopedic boot, but it beats having a broken foot and wearing a cast.

So since I haven't been able to work out at the gym (which I joined a little over a week ago), I've been feeling really lethargic, not motivated to do anything but go to church. I realized it must be because I’m not working out like I was before. Even before I joined the gym, I speed walked around my neighborhood at least three times a week. So I realized that if I was going to get motivated to do anything, I would have to find a way to exercise with the orthopedic boot on my foot.

I remembered that after my fibroid surgery, I could do little walking, going up and down the steps without pain, etc. I had begun doing simple leg lifts from my bed, similar to ones I did with weights when I worked out at Curves once. Amazingly, the simple exercises made me feel better and more energetic. So I’ve begun doing the same exercises while waiting for my foot to heal.

Of course these exercises don’t give me the lift that working out at the gym does, but they do give me some energy to get up and move. I was in decent shape when I joined the gym, but nothing like I wanted to be. And since I could be in this boot for up to a month, I am determined not to gain weight or lose the little bit of strength I gained when I exercised on a regular basis.

This injury has also taught me not to waste time. Before I hurt my foot, I wanted to take a Zumba class, but because of my need to be perfect at everything, I didn’t take the class out of fear I might not be as good as all the others in the class. This is crazy because I kicked butt in every dance class I took at VCU. I mean the fact I wasn’t afraid to take a Krav Maga class after surgery, but too scared to take a Zumba class perfectly healthy is CRAZY. If I were to have permanent damage to my foot and never had taken the class, I'd be really upset with myself.

So, hopefully, once my foot heals, I will stop being a scaredy cat and take the Zumba class. But one thing is for sure, I will keep moving no matter what. I wasted enough time in my 20s and 30s when I was stronger, and now that I don’t have youth on my side, I am determined to feel and be strong regardless of surgery, injury or anything else that comes along. Because I don’t want to just be strong now, I want to be strong at 40, 50,60 and even 70. I read an article in the The Washington Post Magazine about a 72 year old female weight lifter. I know it can be done.

After all the pain and loss I’ve dealt with in my life, I am just ready to be not only be strong, not just happy, I want to be fabulous. Like Paul said in Philippians 3:14, "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me." What's the prize I'm striving for? Feeling victory instead of fear and regret. I've had enough of that. Now I'm ready to kick fear and regret's butt. And look and feel fabulous doing it.

Giving Up My Macy's Card

Recently I had trouble deciding whether or not I should cancel my Macy's card account. Much of the reason I didn't want to cancel was sentimental, but it was also the usual - not wanting to give up a card that I can use when I'm too broke to buy something with cash.

I've had my Macy's card for 20 years, and it's hard to give up something you've had that long, especially when it's been there for you time and time again. For instance:

• When I needed a dress and shoes for my 10th year high school reunion, my Macy's card was there;
• When I needed an Easter dress that I couldn't afford to pay with cash, my Macy's card was there;
• When I had no money for a suit to wear to important interviews, Macy's was there; and
• When I needed Timberland boots for Snowmageddon 2010, my Macy's card was there.

So, after realizing that canceling my card would be good practice in letting things go, because I hang on to everything (I have books on my bookshelf that I bought 10 years ago and have never read), I decided I would let my treasured Macy's card go.

But then something great happened! At brunch one weekend, a good friend of mine informed me that it is actually better to keep a credit card account open if I am trying to build up my credit. That it actually looks better on my credit report if I'm making my payments on time, which I am. I remembered that I had heard a credit professional say the exact same thing in a credit seminar I had attended some years ago, so I decided to keep the card. And all was well in my world.

Thing is, I know that credit cards are pretty much the work of satan - at least their outrageous percentages on purchases are - but I still can't help but to be happy that I still have my Macy's card. Now I can buy myself a treat every now and then. I mean, who doesn't deserve a good lip gloss now and then? Or a citrus-y perfume to give you a little lift, or a concealer with salicylic acid that covers up an enormous pimple that lands on your face a day before a big date?

This is why my Macy's card is necessary. For life's little emergencies and those days when I need a little pick-me-up. Because it's either shopping with my Macy's card or downing a pint of Häagen-Dazs on those days. And since shopping doesn't add 5 pounds to my thighs, I'm going to say using my Macy's card is the best option.

Besides, a little retail therapy never hurt anyone. At least not me. At least not in the last decade. I'll see how this next one goes. But I'm confident my Macy's card won't let me down.

Common Sense Isn't So Common

Common sense must be dead. Or maybe, as the familiar saying goes, common sense ain't that common. That must be true because there is a rise in people doing ridiculously stupid things that they should know will get them in trouble. I read two articles last week that are examples of people doing ridiculous things that got them into trouble. Both relate to people being excessively uninhibited in public. Of course, I'm talking about Rep. Anthony Weiner of New York. But sadly, he's not the only idiot in our midst.

Before I begin on Weiner, I feel the need to tell about a faux pas one couple committed in a graveyard. Yeah, you read correctly. A graveyard. The couple was having sex when the woman got injured after a headstone fell on her leg (http://weirdnews.aol.com/2011/06/03/new-jersey-tombstone-woman-injured_n_870890.html).

My first thought when I read the headline was how stupid can you be? Apparently pretty damn stupid. And creepy. Someone please explain to me what is exciting about having sex around a bunch of dead people? Are people that starved for excitement in their sex lives? Not only is it creepy, but incredibly disrespectful. I would be highly upset if I found out someone was having sex by my grandmother's grave. So not only is common sense dead, but common courtesy seems to be also. I won't say that the woman deserved what she got, but she certainly brought it on herself.

So back to Weiner. The latest is he now wants to go get "treatment" for his problem. What problem is that? Stupidity? There ain't no treatment for that bub. What he needs to do is to take on the strategy he did when he ran for the office he now refuses to give up. He obviously was intelligent and clever enough to get himself elected; now he needs to use that bit of intelligence to keep from getting booted out of the House of Representatives.

It is quite possible, however that Weiner is working a strategy. All political scandals eventually blow over, and this one will be no exception. Perhaps Weiner believes that he will be able to get back the respect of the American people once the smoke settles. And that is possible, because anything is possible in politics. DC Ward 8 Councilman Marion Barry is proof of that. In 1990, Barry was involved in a drug scandal and was arrested by the FBI for cocaine possession and caught on tape using drugs (www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/local/longterm/tours/scandal/barry.htm). Barry suffered a short setback, but he bounced back just two short years later winning a seat on city council in 1992 and then as the city's mayor once again in 1994 (http://www.dccouncil.us/Marion_Barry_Bio).

So maybe Weiner is smart to refuse to resign. Maybe he knows something we don't - that America is so obsessed with scandal that we will forget about his gaffe as soon as another one pops up. And he's probably right. Kind of makes America look more stupid than him. Both sad and scary.

The truth is, America does have an obsession with scandal. Proof of that is the fact that Weiner’s gaffe made national news, when there was nothing newsworthy or political about what he did. He didn't make a politcal faux pas, he made a personal faux pas. It was a masssively idiotic thing to do, but I don’t think he should have to resign because of it. He should apologize to his wife, go get some marriage counseling and start acting like a mature, married man – not a college kid who gets off on sending immature pictures to would-be admirers. But I don't think he should resign.

I’m not saying I admire the guy, I’m saying that Democrats need to ask themselves, do they want him to resign because he’s an embarrassment or because he’s a bad legislator? If the answer is the former, that’s a stupid reason to send him packing. All men who fool around, be it physically or via a computer do stupid things. He just got caught. So do we want him to resign because he got caught? I hope not. Because no one should have to give up a career because a scandal obsessed society cares more about who's screwing who, rather than who's helping who.

America should care more about what Weiner has done for the 9^th district of the state of New York. Not who Weiner showed a photo of his clothed crotch to. In my opinion, it is just as ridiculous to make him leave office as it was for him to do what he did. If he's made a difference in his district, and to his constituents, he will keep making a difference. This mistake does not change that. Bill Clinton was a good president regardless of his indescretion, and I believe Anthony Weiner could be too-even after this scandal. Just as long as in the future, he keeps it in his pants - (pun intended) or in this case, off the Internet.

Nieces are a Joy

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately with my nine year-old niece Christen, who is a real joy. She has my father's confident, larger than life personality, with a whole lot of diva mixed in. She's like a mini Raven Symone, in that one minute she's primping her hair, and the next minute she’s saying things like her sugar meter is low and she needs some candy. The best part about her is that she is completely confident in who she is. She knows she's a little over the top, but she doesn't apologize for it. She is completely comfortable in her own skin. If only I had had her confidence at nine years old, who knows how different life could have been for me.

What I also love about Christen is her desire to learn. She actually looks forward to going to school each day and gets very excited when the National Geographic Kids magazine comes in the mail. One morning I woke up and went downstairs to get some breakfast, and she was sitting at the dining table across from my mother, reading the newspaper, just like my mother. Generally when my sister drops Christen off for my mother to walk her to school, Christen watches TV in the family room. On this particular day however, she was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, like an adult. Who would have ever thought that that the silly little two-year old who bounced around wearing her cousin's football helmet would have grown up to be a an academic AND a little diva?

Another treasured Christen moment is when I took her to a local arts festival last Fall. She took part in every art activity that we passed including painting a pumpkin and helping to paint a mural outside an elementary school. After the festival, while waiting at the subway for her mother to pick us up, Christen asked me if she could use my mirror to see how her hair looked. I busted out in laughter and asked her why, because it was dark outside and there were no boys her age around. She simply replied that she wanted to make sure she looked okay. I realized that it had nothing to do with impressing anyone. She just wanted to make sure she looked good for herself. Go figure.

Like all my nieces and nephews (I have over 10), Christen’s humor, honesty and zest for life have been a blessing and I just look forward to even more days that I spend with her. Because in today’s society of deadly tsunamis and tornados, terrorists and nuclear spills, I need all the silly, quirky, fun moments I can get so that I don’t go coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs.

Life After Surgery

Getting ready for church Sunday I tried on three different pairs of pants because surprisingly, pants I couldn’t get into comfortably four weeks ago are now slouching on me. I wanna give myself a high five I’m so happy! It really feels good to see that hard work does pay off! I’ve been eating better and doing a lot of exercising and I'm happy to say that I don’t just look better, I feel better, and stronger!

The best thing about my recuperation has been being able to exercise regularly without pain, and without having to take a three hour nap after 30 measly minutes of exercise. That was life before the surgery. I’m still unable to pick up my two year-old nephew without having pain that requires taking two Advil. He’s only two years old, but about 40 pounds, and guess lifting heavy things is the only regular thing I’m not able to do yet. But, it’s only been two months since the surgery and the doctors said it may take up to six months for the fibroids to completely shrink. So that means not lifting anything heavy for now, including my adorable nephew, for another four more months.

Before what I like to call “fibroid hell” began, I always took my health, stamina, and quite frankly, my uterus for granted. Had I known this was going to happen, I would have tried harder to find a husband and have some little rascals of my own! But I've made peace with the fact that I may not ever have children. I've always been open to adoption, and as a person of faith, I believe that if it's in God's plan for me to have children, I'll have them. And if it's not in the plan, I'll still have more than 10 beautiful nieces and nephews that bring me a lot of joy.

Having the surgery, being close to turning 40, and especially losing my father last year has reminded me that I really can't take life for granted, and to make the best of every moment. In our crazy busy, always on-the-move lives, we too often forget that we don't have forever to make an impact in this world, and I want to make my mark. I intend to make the best of my time while I'm here, and I'm starting today.

Krav Maga Self-Defense Rocks! If I Can Do It, So Can You!

This past Saturday I took a Krav Maga self-defense workshop after seeing an ad in The Washington Citypaper for a free workshop. If you aren’t familiar with the technique, the KravMagaDC.com website describes it as “the self-defense and fighting system of the Israeli Defense Forces ... based on instinctive movements that are quickly learned and easily remembered." If you've ever watched NCIS and seen Cote de Pablo's character Ziva David kick ass, you have a good idea of what the technique is like.

It's been over 10 years since I took a self defense class, so I was nervous going in, but my nerves subsided a little when I got to the studio and saw that there were more women waiting to take the class than there was men, many of which looked as nervous as I felt. The workshop consisted of about six drills, that I did with my partner Bob.

The first drill was relatively easy, so I was feeling pretty confident, but then came a drill that required Bob and I practice punches with a large pad called a tombstone, which we held at our chests while the other punched as hard as they could. The impact of Bob's punches at first knocked me off balance. But once an instructor showed me how to hold the tombstone to gain better control, the impact of the punches weren't so bad. I got through the rest of the drills without having to use my asthma inhaler and I realized that I had a lot more endurance than I thought.

Along with my newfound confidence I learned two really important things. The first was how to hold my head while blocking punches. I was told to keep my head down, not up, in order to avoid getting my eyes or nose hit. The second thing was how to grab someone’s shoulders when trying to hit them in the groin. I instinctively wanted to put one hand on each of my partners shoulders, but learned that it's better to put two hands on an attacker's shoulder, then kick.

What I liked most was that the things I learned actually made sense and didn't feel unnatural, unlike some of the dance moves I learned in my dance classes in college. I also liked that the instructors would come over and tell me what I was doing well, in addition to telling me what I needed to improve on.

I came out of the class feeling empowered, like I could do anything! While that was probably the endorphins kicking in, I still signed up for two more classes, the first of which I will take this Thursday. I'm still nervous about if this is something I can do well, but the only way to know is to do it, so I'm just going to give it my best shot.

I'm reminded of how a good friend who I was just getting to know at the time once told a fellow church member who wanted someone to do AIDS prevention outreach to "get April to do it. She's not afraid of anything." I remember looking at her wanting to say "Are you smoking crack? I'm afraid of EVERYTHING. I just do it anyway."

So that's what I'm doing with this Krav Maga thing. I'm scared that I might fail at it, but I'm going to do it anyway. If I fall down, I fall down. And then I'll just get back up, and in the words of Tupac Shakur I'll "stand tall and come back for more."

Nothing Like Häagen-Dazs and a Paid Gig

Just when I was about to get REALLY down about being broke and not being able to pay all my bills this month, I get a call from a family friend who told me that he needs his resume revised and that he's got co-workers who will also need their resumes edited that he will refer to me. All I can say is PRAISE THE LORD!

I've been keeping busy lately by writing proposals for contracting work with a colleague, and we actually just got a pro bono gig for a 10th anniversary 9/11 campaign, but there's nothing like having paid work to keep your spirits up.

So I think I'm going to celebrate tomorrow by going and getting some Häagen-Dazs Swiss Vanilla Almond ice cream. I don't eat it often because while it's pure heaven, it's also pure fat. And just so the pure heaven fat doesn't seep down into my thighs, I'm gonna take a nice long walk afterwards.

Normally I'd complain about having to take time to work off calories, but not so much now. It was only just a month and a half ago that I couldn't even walk 3 blocks without feeling pain. So, not only will I be thankful for my upcoming freelance work, and the yummy ice cream I'll eat to reward myself, I'm going to be pretty happy that I have the ability to walk a mile or more without enduring unending pain. Who would have thought ice cream could provide such clarity? Looks like Häagen-Dazs isn't so bad for me after all! Who would've known?

Healing from Loss

When someone you love dies, the sadness consumes you. Nothing can prepare you for the pain and for a while, nothing can comfort you. Fortunately, the pain does eventually stop paralyzing you and life begins again. Monday marks a year since my father died, and I can honestly say that I'm doing much better than a year ago. However I woke up this morning at 6:33 am, about two hours earlier than I usually do on a Saturday, and all I could do is think about my father and how I miss him.

Losing my father, felt like I had just entered the Twilight Zone. Because someone I had loved for over 35 years, who took care of me and protected me my entire life, was gone, and wasn't coming back. I did a lot of sleeping after he passed, because when I slept, I didn't feel any pain. Sometimes I still feel like I'm living in an alternate reality. Like he's stuck somewhere between the planets and I'm stuck here, without him.

The first three months were the worst. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want anyone to talk to me. I was consumed by pain, and then anger. I was angry that people expected me to go on with life as usual. And while I knew it was meant to comfort me, I would get more angry when people told me "it's okay, he's with God." While I believed that he was with God, things certainly were not okay. My father was gone, and I was in so much pain, sometimes I felt like I was dying. Eventually though, I realized that I did have to move on with my life. It’s easier said than done, but fortunately for me, God stepped in and pulled me out of my sadness.

After having a meltdown at work a month prior, I was riding the subway to work one day, reading the Sophie Kinsella book "Remember Me?" It had been my only escape from the pain but I had never really laughed while reading it until that day. I was on the part of the book where the main character is finally comfortable enough to have sex with the husband she doesn't remember. Until he asks her a very awkward, robotic question. The scene was so hysterical that I literally belted laughter out loud, and couldn't stop laughing. If I had been drinking something, I would have spit out the drink and possibly had some come through my nose. For the first time in months, I actually felt joy.

It was at that moment of joy that I heard God's voice. I heard him say "this is the April I know and love. Funny and full of life. This is the way you have to be again." I remember feeling emotional, but still happy, realizing that my father would speak the same words to me if he were here. It was then that I knew I had to let the pain go, stop mourning his life, and start living mine again.

Now when I feel like crying, sometimes I do, but sometimes instead, I reminisce about how fun he was to be around. He had a ton of crazy expressions that always made me laugh. For instance, he would refer to people as "jokers" and call money "duckets" instead of cash, like normal people. Or he would say that he'd "be back in a few shakes" when he would go out. I sometimes find myself using these same phrases and laugh out loud, and it turns my sadness to joy. Joy knowing that I was blessed to have a father with such an animated and entertaining spirit.

So while this upcoming Monday marks a year since he’s been gone, I choose to celebrate his life, rather than mourn it. I know my father would want for me to be happy and go on with my life. And while my life sometimes feels very empty without him, it’s the only life I have, and I’ve got to keep pushing on. As an adult, I’ve come to learn that those things in life that are the hardest for us to do, usually are the things we need to do most. They are painful, and sometimes take all the strength we have, but they are the decisions that make life easier in the long run. They help us to move on to live the life we are meant to live. It’s not easy, but God never said this life would be easy; he did however say that he would never leave us; and that’s something I can definitely live with.

Alone or Single on Valentine’s Day? Pick Your Face off the Floor and Do Something About It!

Are you sweating being single on Valentine’s Day? If so, get over it and ponder this: do you have friends, family and/or church members who love you? All of us have someone who loves us and those people are who we should focus on. Or think of it this way: aren’t we just as worthy of love on February 15th as we are on February 14th? And what if you meet someone special a day or two, or even a week after February 14th? Wouldn't you then feel silly that you agonized about not having a date for Valentine’s Day? Nevertheless, I know some people are fanatics about being alone on this holiday, because I use to be. So for those folks, I say to you: don't sit around and mope, do something about it! Go out and find you some love! And I’m not talking about going to a bar and getting fresh with a drunken bar-goer, I’m talking about volunteering!

Yeah, I know it sounds corny and maybe even crazy to some, but you can find love through volunteering. I once found love at the news desk of a women’s conference where I was volunteering. But I'm not just talking about romantic love here. When you volunteer, you will feel love pour out not only from your own heart but from the hearts of those you help. Somewhere there is an individual or organization that can use your assistance. It could be a homeless shelter or church, like mine that has a food assistance program. Or it could be a youth literacy program, or a senior citizen who needs someone to fix them a meal. And who knows, you might find romantic love too! A woman’s conference was the last place I expected to meet a man, but it happened. That relationship eventually ended, but my point is that the possibilities are limitless when it comes to volunteering. There is even an organization called Single Volunteers who's members are all single. The link to that organization's website, and links to local places in the DC metropolitan area where you can volunteer are below.

All 50 States:
http://www.singlevolunteers.org/
http://www.voa.org/Get-Involved/Volunteer.aspx
http://www.idealist.org/ (click "Volunteer Opportunities" under the FIND section)

DC Metro Area:
http://www.arlingtonva.us/Departments/HumanServices/volunteer/HumanServicesVolunteerVolunteerOffice.aspx http://www.volunteeralexandria.org/
http://www.volunteerfairfax.org/
http://www.serve.dc.gov/
http://www.volunteermaryland.org/index.html

But here's what I really want you to take with you: Valentine's Day really means nothing if you don’t show love to the people in your life every day. The real lesson is not just to feel good about yourself on Valentine’s Day, but that you should feel good about yourself every day that you are alive, and make those you love feel great too. Tomorrow isn’t promised, so let the people you care about know you love them every day, not just on Valentine’s Day.

Don't Get Bent Out of Shape About Valentine's Day

As a single person, Valentine's Day can be an anxious time. Even in the last four years, when I was in a relationship, I never got anything - which is one reason I'm no longer in that relationship. This Valentine's Day, date or no date, gifts or no gifts, I've decided that I'm not sweating it. Because I realized that I’ve already got four men in my life that show me love each time I see them. Well, they are actually three boy-men and a baby, but the point is that I am greatly loved. And that's exactly what I’m going to celebrate.

What love am I speaking of? That would be the unconditional love of four of my nephews. From 17-year old Ray who takes care of me when I'm sick, to 15 year-old Devin who calls me "prettiful," to soon-to-be 13-year old Jordan, who always helps me with my bags and likes to take time to watch a movie or TV show with me when he visits. Then there's Brendon, my two year-old nephew, whose crazy antics of twirling around while blinking his eyes, and cuddling up with me so that he can take my socks off to bite my feet; all these sweet gestures and crazy antics from my nephews bring me a lot of joy, show me that I am greatly loved, and make me realize that I don’t need to measure the amount I’m loved on a Valentine’s Day scale. Because I am shown love each time I see the sweet faces of the loving boys that are soon-to-be men in my life.

So this doesn't mean that I wouldn't like a Valentine’s date. But it does mean that this year, instead of sitting around and yelling at God "WHY Lord, WHY? I'm such a GOOD person! Don't I deserve chocolates and flowers and dinner and some love - don't I?" While I may deserve these things, it doesn't mean I'll get them. That's just the hard facts of life. And really, what our lives become, truly are what we make them. If I hadn't taken so long to break up with my ex-boyfriend, I wouldn't have to do this insane thing I've been doing called dating. Instead it's very likely I would be in a loving relationship that would give me a guaranteed snuggle partner on Valentine's Day to celebrate the most important thing in the world.

So, this Valentine's Day, I've decided I’m going to give and not worry about getting. I plan to give chocolate to the doctor and nurses who performed my fibroid surgery and cared for me afterward. Because I'm almost fully recuperated and starting to feel like a new person, and I'm happy to give something to the people who helped to make that happen.

But here's the thing I'd really want you to take with you: Valentine's Day, or any holiday for that matter aren’t the only days you can set aside to celebrate love. You can celebrate love with your spouse, significant other, or even a sibling, friends or strangers (through volunteering), any day of the year that you choose. I believe that everyone, regardless of their relationship status need to take one day out of the year to show the special people in their lives that they are loved.

With our busy lives, sometimes we don’t make the effort to turn off the TV, computer or Wii, take the day off, or get a babysitter so that we can tell people we love them or do something special with them. And I do believe that we need to take one day out of the 365 we have each year and through any gesture, small or large, show the people we spend our lives with that we love them. And it has nothing to do with commercialism or being selfish. It has to do with wanting to be reminded that you’re loved. And there’s nothing commercial or selfish about that.