First love


In the heart and the mind of a writer there is a first love ,that is that book or writer that made you love writing. It could be someone extremely famous like Stephen King , Jane Austen, probably for most of us writers, it’s someone that we read when we  were younger than the Jane Austens attract like Beverly Cleary, or RL Stine.

But somewhere  in our hearts or in our minds that  first love  holds a place that no one else will ever hold. I’d like to celebrate today first love. I’d like to think about I ever read voraciously and without any facade. I remember reading books like are you there god it’s me Margaret, or freckle juice and enjoying those books. Feeling like I was a part of something other. .I was a smart girl. I was a reader. Then I read a book called then again, maybe I won’t by Judy Blume. That made me want to be a writer, but it was the book that made me feel like my kind of writing was acceptable. Because and then again, maybe I won’t from the perspective of a 10 or 11 year old me anyway was very personal. The main character was a young boy whose father suddenly found himself wealthy and so the boy suddenly finds himself wealthy. At the same time he also finds himself going through what everybody goes through when they are on the cusp of not necessarily adulthood but the next transition between childhood and not childhood. I remember reading this book at every possible moment of the day. I remember not going outside and I grew up in the air when we went outside. I remember friends and phone calls and everything else in this book. It was definitely a first love kind of thing because all these years later I am first of all still looking fondly upon this book and almost afraid to think about the book itself too closely. I don’t want to ruin what we have together with other words. So sweetly think of that boy, his issues with his parents and his masturbatory dream and even now. Having read this book in well over 20 years I still think it’s a story, never mind the writing and I don’t remember the writing well enough to even begin to critique it, but the story at the very least which still resonate with a lot of people. So I wanted to thank Judy Blume, and all the people write the books that make a person realize the creativity is not only ok but it is something to be proud.For that I am ever grateful.

These Dreams


Houston Police Department memorial

Houston Police Department memorial (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

When i came to Houston, I barely knew what a recruiter was.

 

Now I feel it is my calling, my life’s work that’s writing but recruiting is definitely becoming a passion of mine. The ability to give someone a better life , a better job, new opportunity well it just feels wonderful.

 

For those of you who aren’t on any of my other social networks I have a new job which in essence is my old job. I am, once again, recruiter. The job that I have, the place where I’m working and the people I’m working with have transformed me in one week. I feel so blessed, so happy, 100 percent where I should be. Where I should be! It has made all that I’ve been through this year worth it. Between this blog, my wonderful followers, my friends and family, and now professional development , I feel like my life is on track to be coming what I should have . So I’m grateful to all who have helped me, believed in me and just listens to my insanity at times.

 

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Somebody’s watching me


We live in an overly cataloged and documented world. We are doing it to ourselves, of course, but it is true. I am attached via name and face to no less than two dozen sites, I have Facebook , LinkedIn , foursquare, twitter and Google+ to name a few. I do reviews and comments enough to earn a “top contributor” on the internet. I am online. I am locatable. I don’t mind that because my world and my goals in this world are a want for recognition. I am trying to build a brand for both my writing, my day job and myself.

Still and all that means that my image is attached to many things. As, probably, is yours.  That brings me to today’s topic. I recently upgraded to Microsoft Office 2013 and one of the fantastic little updates is that you can sign into sites right through to your outlook. I did because I love stupid little things like that, they know this, and the people that made that feature are tech geeks.

The thing about that is, I can see the Facebook attached to my candidate’s emails, when they come into my inbox. Which for the most part is fine, but that begs the question, “if your employer or potential employer saw your Facebook profile, would that cost you anything?” I hope that the answer is no. However, for some of you …

We have all seen the chick whose Facebook photo is her breasts or her behind. Unless you are in the sex industry that is not the image that you need to portray.  The person whose profile picture is his weed stash or some other unflattering image.  Do yourself a favor and take that down, right now! First, I do not care who you are, you are better than that, trust me. Second, if your name is something rude, crude or sexually explicit, take that down too. Same thing for your email address, while I have you here, if you are “sexytramp69@yahoo.com “for the love of GOD get a new email address. Potential employers will not be impressed at how “real” you keep it. Just think of this; if you are standing in a room full of family members, and you have to give your email address, your YouTube name or your Facebook handle, would you be embarrassed? If yes, change it. Does your employer need to know that you are “Dabaddezbitch”, “DatNiggaDarrall”, or even “Jackdaniels4lyfe”?

 

The bottom-line is this , treat your name and image like it is your product , because now a days it is just that.

Successful


 

I am a Creative with deep roots. Its not what people see that counts, its whats buried deep that counts.If you are particularly sensitive, you may want to get an “updated” copy of Napoleon Hill’s masterwork “Think and Grow Rich” , but if not it is available in PDF or E-reader for for free download all over the internet. I say that “if you are particularly sensitive” part because I began reading the original for the first time yesterday and I realize that over the years, some of the language has been cleaned up and some stories have been edited for content. I am not particularly sensitive but I did take slight umbrage with the use of “Deaf and Dumb” in reference to Helen Keller, Calling a black child “ignorant, illiterate” in a story .words that did not really add to the story in my opinion. The almost constant use of the word “Normal” in relation to Blair Hill, the author’s son, that was born with no ears but who was forced to learn how to hear because of the overwhelming need for him to be “normal” by his father. I find that story both amazing and horrible.

Nevertheless, the other parts of the book are filled with merit. The book has been revamped and this is my third or fourth time reading it, although my first with the original text, and I think that it is something that everyone should read, at least once. Like the bible. Moreover, like the bible, you will get out of it what you get out of it. I can see it going forward in some people’s lives as simply new age ( the book is rounding on 100 years I think but still people will call it that) bull. Which for them, it will be. Some people will, as I did, read it and not really understand it. It rings a faint bell but I do not know that I really know the tune kind of thing. You have to keep reading it as your paradigm changes to get the true scope of the thing.

Then some of you, the Chloë Grace Moretz, the Bill Gates, the Zuckerbergs, among you will read it and have a kind of ping and duh moment at the same time. I think that the “secret” that lives in the pages of the book is something that comes natural to some people in this world. They wake up every day with the knowledge that they are going to make it. I am both awed by and terrified of these people. Not those as they are now but I suspect that Hitler was one of these people just turned inside out. When I meet them, always a part of me hopes they are one the side of good. Because I do not think that, I would be great in the apocalypse, except the Zombie Apocalypse because I have plans together.

I am reading this book again, and what I am getting out of it this time is, I can do it. In actuality, I am getting a full picture of my successes and failures of the past year. I tend to lose faith when I am close to the end because I believe that I fear (or have feared, as I am conquering that now) the near win-miss. The honest to god truth is that, without failure you cannot win; or should I say constructive failure. You cannot win the grand prize, if you do not lose the second prize. So many times in my life, I have been unwittingly leaving the game because I lost at second when the first prize had yet to be awarded. Real life example of that is when I won my 60-Inch TV, I had wanted to win the TV, which was the last prize. In the process, I gloomily sulked over not winning the laptop, the vacation package, the PS3 (they had just come out) and I was literally putting my coat on when I won the TV. The thing that I had actually stated that I wanted! My single raffle ticket, if it had won something else, could not bring me the TV that I wanted but I was ready to give up when I had not won everything. Something that would have been impossible anyway!

Therefore, again in my reaffirming the goal mindset, I state that while I am blessed and lucky to have been given my fantastic brain, I am also at odds with said brain. Sometimes I have to shut it off and let my heart take the wheel. I know what I want. I am learning how to get it and nothing will stand in my way. Not even me

Crash


houston

houston (Photo credit: araza123)

Its a fundamental truths here in Houston that pedestrians and get no respect. Houston seems to regard the very act of walking as an  affront  to their way of life here. When you are like myself, carless, you have to be wary of the others, careless. Today I was nearly ran over not one not twice but three times. None of the people that v nearly ran me over even try to slow down.
They seem to regard to the fact that I was in the road as proof that I was lacking in normal human rights. Like the countless animals that I pass then have been folded spindled and mutilated by oncoming traffic, I too was at the mercy the Houston driver. The level of disrespect that Houston pedestrian receive can be summed up this way, when I got the crosswalk the driver of the black Ford F 150 screamed on the window at me to get out of the road. I, and all walkers, have the right of way. And just for the record, even if I was in the wrong, which I wasn’t, you don’t have the right to kill me because I’m in your way.

Send in the Clowns


This song means a lot to me as I grow up and grow older . So many things  in my life , not just men but jobs, friends, thoughts, actions  , feel like they fall in this category . This why didn’t I realize at the time what I had .  Only to realize that the recapture of that thing , place , person or action is outside of your ability. You can not get the one that got away.

There are a lot of these for me , some because I truly didn’t see the merit on them and for those I can only sigh and move on but the ones that hurt are the ones that I missed out on because I was too  chickenshit it make a move . I am never proud of myself when I  miss out on something because  I decided to be a chickenshit . I would rather fail miserably  in trying than be in fear. I would like to try and fail beautifully.

In the spirit of that I have decided to sing today. You are free to listen or not to listen ( like you didn’t know that , right?) but understand that I am singing accapella and I did not do another take . I am a little pitchy at times I think but I am also woman enough today to sing one of my favorite songs to you and free of change .

http://youtu.be/TU8d7SBwswI

This year has not been easy and it is only May , but then again this year has not been easy and it is already May . I am not going to wallow in the many yesterdays, the could have beens , the should have beens. I am going to sing. and I am going to dance . I am going to move forward and laugh . Topple , roll , squeak my red nose and freak some people out . In short I am going to embrace the fact that I may be a clown. But after I go forward I will never let fear make me a clown again .

Free Fallin’


There are people in this world that have jumped from an airplane only to find mid-fall that the parachute didn’t open. While generally this spells death  for the person plummeting to the earth there are , on occasions, a person that lands and is found broken, bruised and badly shaken but nonetheless alive .

That person while recovering from the usually significant injuries has to , despite everything , feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. You go into a free-fall , a jump from much higher than people die from and you live . You didn’t walk away . How could you? But the survival… the survival is all you could hope for and more.

Coming to Houston was me in free fall. I had little choice about what else I could do but I was definitely moving fast towards the ground and simply now , still in mid fall I have realized that I  can’t do anything to change the end of this fall.  now I am not saying that I am a victim of my fate I am saying that the choices that i made before now have shaped the movement  I am in  now . I jumped and while I couldn’t have predicted the lack of a parachute I had the choice to never jump.

I wonder if the people who are falling feel like I do now. In those moments , the beauty and splendor the earth all around them while they scream , prey or wet  themselves , do they also feel like this might be what I had to have happen. Would they choose to be at  home in whatever life made them feel like this was a good idea? I doubt that. I doubt that they would prefer to have never had the jump to avoid the fall.  I know that I would not .

Houston Day 8


I have needed to take a week to decide that I was going to in fact start this blog, so I start it where I am. Day 8.

I first want to  say that any resemblance this blog does, may or will have with “Sex in the City” will be purely coincidental.

By no means am I Carrie Bradshaw or Candace Bushnell    for that matter.  While I am a girl in the “Big City” I am not, looking for love, trying to find the meaning

Of life in the bottom of a Cosmo glass or living la Vida Fabulous. I may be slightly living “Mi Vida Loca”, learning Spanish and living in a little bit of a Barrio.

I am not in the city of my dreams, like Carrie that would be New York. I am not expecting to jump right into the job of my dreams or the man of my dreams(for one this Christen Bale is married ), if I was the human equivalent of any character it may be Laura Ingles Wilder, a pioneer woman in the west , fighting for the best life possible and writing it all as she goes.

I have moved to Houston, Texas from Eastpointe, Michigan because the job prospects in Michigan, for me anyway, were short on the ground. I want to be successful and just going along to get along was NOT getting it. So I went west young (WO) man and I am trying to be as positive as possible about this very scary new chapter. And you, if there eventually are a you, are invited to watch.

I will wrap up as I intend on wrapping up every day with my 2 loves and 2 hates about Houston.

  1. Love: Taco trucks: they are everywhere and the food is while not probably the BEST for you some of it is Amazing to the palette.

1.   Hate: The Transit System : I don’t have a car yet and the very IDEA that you can take a bus ride that  for 2 HOURS that would be a 25 minute car ride is the

Explains everything I HATE about it. It is winding and complicated, some lines have 2 or three routes that run down the same street and have the same names save one or two LETTERS and you will end up all the way in east hell. It’s not at ALL fair to new comers.

  1. Love: The Weirdoes:  I love the assorted fruits and nuts that live here. Trannies, the gorgeous “Is she or isn’t she “types and the putting that make up on with a spackle isn’t helping you Types. Coplay folks in dress up, Vatos with their tattoos and angry scowls masking the round lovely faces of Latin people. Beautiful Latina girls with big hair, or pink hair and piercings. And one short, skinny beggar woman, presumably a drug addict but she may just be homeless, that seems to be everywhere.

2.  Hate: I’m Lonely here.