I found the other woman, Vanesa

Some have asked me where I have been/what have I been doing since I have slacked on posting here. I have said that I have been busy working, but there is more to this story. For some time, this post has been on my mind, but I haven't had the strength to write it until now. My therapist said in order for me to heal, I have to let this go, for me to stop keeping this inside. Being that this blog has been the best outlet for me, I've finally decided to do this.

I do not remember when it was said, but in a discussion with Hubby one day, I told him that if the day came that I was not enough for him, I would find him someone else. My assumption was that it would never happen. As with my son's training in cub scout, when you make a promise, you must keep it if it is within your ability.

If you have been following me on Twitter, you may have seen my Tweets about Hubby's glucose levels being too high and being placed on short-term disability until his company says that he can drive for them again. He's been home for the past eight weeks. For the first four weeks, he was home with our son. But since school started he's basically been home alone all day. For someone accustomed to being away from home most of the time, I understand he could get lonely. In addition, after I get home from work, review homework, workout, having dinner and my side projects, there's wasn't much of "us" time before I have to do to sleep to start my daily routine all over again.

One day before going household shopping, I gave him a shopping list of items I knew we needed and told him to add what he needed. I didn't review the list until I was in the truck. The last item he wrote, "A woman, white or black". Saying I was shocked would be an understatement, but then I realized what I had promised him and had to honor it. We live about five miles from the nearest shopping centers so I had a little time to develop a strategy so the situation could benefit me also.

Quickly I selected certain qualities:

• Dim: Can't have her challenging me intellectually
• Quiet: Can't have her attempt to out talk me
• Weak: If she steps out of place, I may have to beat her down. I don't have time for that
• Meak: Can't have her challenging me to be the HSIC (head sista in charge)
• Sturdy: with all the housework and yardwork to be done, since she's there, she might as well work, too

Arriving at Fred's, the parking lot looked sparse. There was not much hope for finding a large selection. That idea was confirmed as I perused the store selecting the other items on my list. Surprisingly in the toy section, or may be not surprising, I saw a possible candidate. She just had that "look" I was seeking. For the intelligence test, I asked her had she seen an item that was directly in her line of sight. She just stared as if I had asked her to name Saturn's moons. PERFECT! I explained the situation to her and she came along just as easily as the items in my shopping cart.

I had to also go across the street to get a few groceries from Ingles. She stayed in my truck to give her some more time to think about this and a chance to back out before meeting Hubby. When I returned, she was still there.

Arriving home, I brought in some bags and scoped Hubby's location. Returning with the last of the bags, I presented Vanesa to him as I will present her to you.





He didn't say she had to be LIVING!

Brawl at Summer Camp

After all my hard research in locating a Summer Camp for son and niece to attend, what do I get in their first week? You would figure that a place that "supposedly" certifiably teaches Character Choices, Abstinence until Marriage, and Conflict Resolution coupled with the Camp being held in the Family Life Center of a Missionary Baptist Church would be able to handle a group of 30 youngsters with the goal of 100 and capacity to handle 150.

It is still hard to believe what occurred when I arrived to pick them up this afternoon. Even before entering the main hall from its primary external door, I could hear incoherent, but unmistakable yells and calls of a fight. Mind you, I haven't heard such since high school over 20 years ago, but still recognizable. Rushing in, my first thoughts were "WHERE ARE MY KIDS?!!!".

Moving like a swarm of killer bees, the crowd moved around the room through the maze of circular tables and surrounding chairs, but constantly encircling the confrontation. Even now, I can see them in slow motion jeering and actually enjoying the carnage. As I made my way closer looking for my kids, and trying not to crush any onlookers, I could see glimpses of several instructors trying to separate the fight participants. I did not focus on them as I was still scanning the crowd.

Even though these events happened within a minute or two of my entrance into the hall, relatively it felt like hours. Eventually the center of the crowd moved in my direction, kids floated around me where the yelling and screaming being magnified in the spacious 20ft ceiling hall. All of a sudden I was in the eye of the storm. A hurricane because then I found my kids, with bloodied faces, on the floor entangled along with several adults and three or four other kids, my son being the smallest.

I don't know how loud I streaked but the entire room fell "pin drop" silent. Being in a Christian facility I hoped my language was appropriate, even now I still don't remember what I said and I'm too afraid to ask.

Then as a stone being skipped on a lake, the mob quickly rippled away. The sorting of kids and interviews began as the maintenance personnel attempted to restore order to the hall. I followed the director as he led my kids away to be interviewed. A woman from the kitchen staff arrived with wet cloths and began cleaning their faces that was beginning to swell. I couldn't do anything but look and listen.

Basically this was the story. A few boys began teasing my son about the amount of food he had been consuming for the past few days. This was no surprise to me because the boy can EAT. He has an extremely high metabolism and is constantly active. He began to get upset and then my belligerent niece stepped into the mix to defend him. Nudging began and converted to pushing and then strikes. Seeing her being struck, my son began to attack back. The rest is self-explanatory.

Being that it was the first week and the Camp management understood that there may be clashes in personalities, so they put all the kids on probation. At least that's one battle settled. As soon as they were excused, we left as quickly as possible through the repositioned tables and chairs not before me giving the "evil eye" to the other kids in the altercation.

Exiting the building, my thoughts were about my mom. My parents had always taught us to not physically fight, but to find alternate means of conflict resolution. Now I have the daunting task of informing her that her two oldest grandchildren were fighting.

Once we reached the car, I noticed the time. Hubby was waiting at home for our return so he could use my car to get to work. His car was at the repair shop. I already had left work late and was now an additional half-hour delayed. On the 30-minute ride home, I had to explain to him what I have told you. He wasn't happy that he would be extremely late for work, but surprisingly, he was pleased that they stood up for each other. Me too, actually. We've always wondered what they would do if a situation like that arose.

As I sit here, comfortably in my office chair, writing this post, I can envision the first image of them, on the floor, each pulling on a child's leg, like I'm pulling yours.

I hope you enjoyed this piece of fiction. Love Sista GP, LOL

Journal #1

Journal Entry 1 (draft)
Journal, I need to tell you what happened starting last night. I have to tell someone or I’ll just lose my mind. Well you know how I walk around talking to myself. So last night I was doing it again and complaining about how it was Friday night and all my girlfriends were out with their men and I was home alone, AGAIN, craving masculine companionship. Now I know my laments were exasperated by the second glass of White Merlot I was sipping, but it was true. I know I can’t compete with models but I’m well kept, I exercise, eat right, and dress decent too. So, why I don’t have man? Well other than being extremely selective in mates, highly opinionated and routine-oriented, I was thinking what was wrong with me, you know.

In order to better my mood, I was wearing my favorite white satin lace-trimmed nightie. You know the one I got from VS to match my finished bedroom. You should know what happened next, as I was pacing the room I began to admire it again. Not trying to be boastful, but I did an excellent job. My master suite is perfect, just like it’s inspiration in that décor magazine. Once I saw it, you know I had to have it. I’d been searching for months for the right look.

There was plenty of room to work with being 23 ft by 15 ft. There’s enough space for the master suite to have six feet of space beyond each antique cherry-stained nightstand adjacent to the matching king-sized 4-poster bed. A burgundy settee flanks one wall in that space as matching Victorian armless chairs flanks the opposing wall. The antique mahogany cedar chest inherited from my great-grandmother accentuates the foot of the bed. You know I had to sit down on the bed and swirl my fingertips along the white Egyptian linens and duvet.

Then he called. The ringing of the nightstand portable phone startled me back to reality. It was Mathias. You know, MrFlirt. I played it cool, as sober as possible, “Hello”.
He started laying on thick, “Hi, Scrumptious, how are you this fine evening?”
Still trying to sound sober, “I’m well Mathias, and you?”
“Glad you asked, Delicious, I’m real sleepy. I’m driving from Florida and too tired to make it home. I was wondering if I could rest tonight at your place and continue my journey tomorrow.”
My first thoughts were NO WAY, not tonight. I’m too buzzed to have a fine man in the house. But then how could I turn away a friend into a dangerous situation. I must have been gone to forget there were several motels at the interstate exit to my home because I said, “Sure, you can, the guest room is available. When will you get here?”
He laughed and said “Soon.”
Trying to stay focused, I asked, “How soon is soon?” He laughed again and then the doorbell rung. I almost screamed.
Calmy, I said “Oh you’re funny. Give me a sec.” And hung up the phone. I ran to my bathroom, checked my hair and face and grabbed the long matching robe to my nightie. I know, I know it wasn’t the best attire to be greeting guests, especially this one but I had no time to change.

Flipping on the porch light, before opening the door, I felt I was in trouble and in for a long night. I could see his gleaming seductive eyes through the arched glass panels in the door.


...okay blog fam, should I continue writing this story? I'm thinking of starting a collection of random fictional journal entries.


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