I rarely go to the Wal-mart in the hood. Every since I saw that the prices were a tad bit higher, I thought I'd just go out in suburbia. But I decided to go to the Wal-mart in my hood. There are now three within 10 minutes driving distance. Oh Joy!!!
But I saw this at the Black People's Wal-mart: Blackberry Ginger Ale.
Who's had that? Is it any good? I would like to try a can of it, but not a whole 2 liter bottle. I'm sure it is dirt cheap, just like the rest of the sodas. I left it alone since I'm not a big soda drinker.
I went to our local foods distribution warehouse. It's in the hood, so it's bootleg to death. (There's no door. You have to go in through the dock through long heavy plastic strips. And the cashiers are behind inch thick bullet proof glass).
Cheap stuff. Feels a bit fenced, though. Not a good look if the place gets raided. But I took my sister there. She is a diva, but she seemed to enjoy herself. (I thought we were in there a bit too long for my own liking).
Anyway, I saw this:
I was completely throwed off by seeing a gallon of "red color". Then I realized it was a gallon of red food coloring.
A whole gallon of red food coloring! Who in the world would need that?
How many red velvet cakes can a person make with a gallon of red color?
I guess it upsets me because I hate all things with the "red velvet" tagline. I've also worked around some food color chemists from time to time. And of course, after conversing with them over the years, I wondered which red it was. (Some are illegal in the USA).
My favorite author Tayari Jones bakes red velvet cakes, so I asked her about it. She said that she uses 2 ounces of red food color for baking. So since there are 128 ounces in a gallon, then she could make 64 3-layer red velvet cakes.
Ha! That's your math lesson for today.
I'm not sure if I want a WHOLE gallon of red color in my house. What on earth happens if you spill it. The mess it'll make!
Well, why not? Who best to encourage myself than my own self?
I got a job promotion in February. As a matter of fact, it took effect a couple of days after my birthday. So I was excited about that. Not so much excited about the job promotion, but I was elated about the fifteen things that happened surrounding it. THAT's what made it great. I know God has something to do with things like that when the over and beyond happens. So, not one thing came to pass, but the "perfecting" of it came to past, i.e., all the necessary pieces, all the concerns, get taken care of in one swoop. GLORY.
So... like I said, I'm good at encouraging myself. I speak or meditate on the following statement quite often.
I am a formidable employee. I am excellent. I am an EXPERT!
That has been my confession for most of this year. Not too much time goes by without thinking about that statement. I wrote it here because I saw it sprinkled throughout the pages of my journal. In all it's simplicity, it meant a great deal to me. I'd been trying to come up with a confession and I wrote that out.
But I came across something else in my journal, written on June 27,2015.
"It has been such a mental exercise to have faith and not be afraid concerning this stuff [job promotion]. Really, I just want to do well. But there is always that dark strand of thread that runs like a ticker tape through my mind, that same ol' societal shit: I am black, I don't know nothing. It is far from the truth, though, as far as the west is from the east. It is not true. But I have to fight it. I have to knock it down. It is NOT true. Knock down the fiction with TRUTH and faith. "No worthless days. Only days full of worth. And I am immense worth to God." I got that while praying this morning. Must be direct from the Holy Spirit. Why do I say that? Because it is a pregnant statement. Such a PREGNANT statement. It is alive and kicking, birthed out. It has so much life in it. That is the only way to describe it... full of life, life-giving. When the Holy Spirit counsels and comforts, it is truly that: COMFORT. And that above is a comforting statement. It is from Someone who knows my past, present and future. Yes, that's what's up." No worthless days. Only days full of worth. And I am of immense worth to God.
'Tis a great statement, as it does what it's suppose to do: encourage, edifies, and brings about peace. It's like a new piece of chewing gum. I will be chewing on it for awhile, and it will never lose flavor. (It's better than chewing on this "ol' societal sh**" fed to us by the media. I am a tad bit O_O over my placing a cuss word in a journal entry gone spiritual. I must've really been in a state of angst that day. This reminds me that I've been watching too much news from a media that has nothing much good to say about a person of my... complexion. And that seed tends to take root in the heart. And it needs to be dug up and discarded).
For some reason, that statement of "no worthless days" resonated with me. It came up in prayer, and I'd been writing it across the top of the pages of my journal entries in big bold block letters for a few days prior to writing about it on June 28th. It was something I needed at the day and time. It was like a sledgehammer, breaking up my annoyance and frustration.
I rarely tell people when I'm feeling frustrated. The reason behind that is purely subconscious, as I was always punished for having an opinion. So as a child, I learned it was best to just keep my thoughts and feelings to myself. As a result, things get held inside. It's the worse stronghold ever, its claws stuck some 40 years deep in my heart, affecting my life in ways I don't care to discuss here. This is a delicate and fragile idiosyncrasy in my life. I have friends that know the total arc of me, and they don't mind dragging my feelings and emotions out. They don't punish me for having them, even if said feelings differ from the norm (which is usually the case). But just same, if you get me to share and talk, it's on the same level of seeing a UFO. It is a rarity. And it is the reason why I journal prolifically.
But sometimes work gets to me, and I tend to get highly annoyed (circa #15 on my list). I think something must've happened around the time I wrote the journal entry that pissed me off. I get annoyed about the "stuck-uppiness" of us Ph.Ds (which I try hard not to play into), and I think there was a bit of angst over a project I'm working on. (Project's pretty much done since then. *church shouts*). So there's a bit of frustration here and there, even though I like my job and I have a cool boss. I must, however, encourage myself in my times of deflation.
I've been chewing on the "No worthless days" statement. It's pregnant. It births good emotional and mental fruit. I'll be thinking about it for a long time to come.
My days ARE full of worth. If we pay close attention, all of our days are. Feelings ebb and flow like the waves, but my worth is constant and consistent, especially to God. I am very good at encouraging myself.
Most importantly, God is great at encouraging me.
With thoughts of the encouragement populating my mind, how could I ever remain in a state of deflation.
I've been working on a new cookie recipe. It's a shortbread "lunchroom" cookie recipe based on the one in Chef Darius Williams' book Stories from My Grandmother's Kitchen. The first batch was great, as everyone at work enjoyed them. (I wish I had a picture of them).
Here's a pic of them off the internets:
They were sooooo good. The official name of them are lunchroom butter cookies. I don't remember those in my lunchroom. He had the store bought butter cookies.
I wanted to experiment with the next batch. So I looked around on pinterest and tweeked it a little. Darius' recipe was the best, but I wanted something that I could roll and cut into shapes. (I think I can do that with his recipe if I worked the dough enough).
Here are the results.
A plain butter cookie.
A cinnamon butter cookie (added 1/2 teaspoon of ground cinnamon).
A pecan sandie version.
Those were delicious. I think they would jump a notch in flavor if I sauteed the pecans in butter, or roasted the pecans.
And that's too much work for me. Regular chopped pecans will have to do.
I'm going to experiment with a lemon, orange, or chocolate version. It doesn't matter if I mess up because I can just bring them to work.
"Check, please," I said as the waiter walked by not once, but twice. He'd been super nice up until this time, and I'd been considering leaving a tip much higher than my usual 15-18%. But with each pass, his tip for good service was disappearing like a puff of smoke in a strong breeze.
"Check, please," I yelled a little too loud for my own comfort. He slowed this time, stared into my eyes, and said "One moment". Those gorgeous blue eyes that my friend and I had been giggling over were all of a sudden cold and icy.
"Humph. He's going to mess around and get no tip," I said under my breath.
My friend Pam laughed. "We can leave him a tip. A tip of the day. Look both ways before crossing a busy street."
We both laughed a bit too hard. We quieted down when our waiter was standing at our table, placing the black sleeve containing our bill on the table with shaky hands. He slowly backed away, all the while maintaining perfect eye contact.
"He better hope we pay this damn bill. He better hope we don't do it like we use to back in the day. Just up and leave. No tip. No paying for this meal. No nothing."
"I know that's right," Pam said.
I opened the bill sleeve. At least he remembered to give the twenty percent discount on our meal. Coupons are the best.
There was something scribbled across the bottom of my bill.
"Someone just called in a bomb threat. There's a bomb under table Two, Section 15. That is your table. If you get up from the table, it will blow. So DON'T MOVE."
Pam was gathering her coat. "Come on, let's go."
"No," I yelled. "No, let's stay. I want dessert."
"But you said you were full. And you said we had to be outta here by eight so you can pick up Johnny."
Johnny, my sweet baby boy, would have to wait, I thought.
"No," I repeated as I gently waved my hand in the air to get the waiters attention. This wasn't necessary, as he was staring at me.
"Yes," he said, barely above a whisper.
I handed the bill to him. "I got your message. Loud and clear. The hot fudge sundae would be a great addition to our meal. We'll take two."
Afterword
This story is actually from a writing prompt given by my gub'ment writing group. It's from a page of prompts and I chose this one. The prompt should be easy to see, as it was a waiter runs up on you and give you a note. What does it say? (Something like that).
I tend to be a bit on the violent side in my writing. My first thought was a waiter handing a person a note about a bomb. It's not realistic, but hey... it's just a story.
Now, I have no idea where that story goes. But, I have a book titled Plot and Structure, and there's a suggestion in there concerning plot. When there's a big turning point in a story, one should write TEN different scenarios... and choose the craziest one, the one that's original and out the box. The instructor of my last writing class said write TWENTY different scenarios and choose the most shocking.
I have written three scenarios and I'm shocked already. I think I will try to write that twenty. I tend to have a one track mind, and this will definitely break it up.
And Monday, the BEST day of the week is here. Yes it is.
My weekend. It was a good one. I had a writers group meeting on the faaaaaaar east side, some 40 miles from my house. So you KNOW I have to get my mind right to drive that far. Honestly, my hat's off to all those who are have to drive 40 miles to work or home. That's an 80 mile round trip every day. Heck, if you're making a 50 mile round trip... that's a lot going on.
I have learned something: when I have to drive that far, I BEST make sure that I get gas the day before. Better yet, I need to do whatever I need to do before that morning. That way I can just jump in the car and go without a bunch of stopping. That wasn't the case this time. Lucy Jr. need gas. And I needed to find an ATM for cash. This all took me some extra 20 minutes of time. So, even with leaving the house at 9:00 am, I didn't get to the place until 10:15 am. Lesson learned. I so look forward to the meeting. If it starts at 10:00 am, I need to be there by 9:45 am.
Everyone is so NICE. I just like being around such nice people. It is such a dream.
Mrs. J. published a story in an anthology, and she was nice enough to autograph her story.
That's that bootleg right there. Go to the parking lot, grab a book out the trunk, and sign it. Period.
I like Mrs. J. Everytime she sees me, she runs up on me and gives me a big ol' hug. Several times. Such a sweet lady. I've learned so many life lessons from her.
After this meeting, some of us went out to lunch at Longhorn Steakhouse. I haven't been there in at least 20 years. I don't usually go out to lunch or even stick around on that side of the city because I'm usually preoccupied with getting back to my side of town. Especially if there is construction (one time, it took me 2 hours to get home. I was caught behind some paving. Yikes!) But this time, I hung out. I had a nice time. And the three folks I had lunch had amazing life stories.
I paid for our lunch. That didn't go over too well. But it was an offering of sorts. I'm so glad that they allowed me to join their writing group, even though I don't write Christian fiction. However, I think I write my own spiritual inspirational personal stories well in a nonfiction manner, and it gave me the courage to turn in something from blog for their anthology. So I'm happy for that. It gives me the courage to convert more blog entries into stories.
We said our good-byes, and I made the interesting decision to go to the Farmer's market... I say interesting because it was on a Saturday. Everybody and their Mama was up in that camp.
This store is located in a town that has the highest number of ethnic groups. And they cater to these people. This is the place where I've learned there's truly a plethora of fruits and veggies in the world.
The first time I went was back in 1990. I lived in the city, and would always pass while riding the public bus home. A classmate of mine lived out that way and we stopped in on the way home (this was her usual). We didn't have much money around that time, but we could buy a whole loaf of fresh made french for $1.00 Two feet of french bread lasted a long time, so that was a good deal. Now, some 25 years later, a loaf is $3.99. Inflation is a mutha, ya'll.
Still, the same amount of people in the place. Crowded like a club on a Saturday night!
I bought groceries and went on home. Kentucky and I watched a couple of movies that night: Pastor Brown and Weird Science. (Imagine my O_o when she said she'd never seen Weird Science).
Sunday was a quiet day. I've been trying to catch up with the chick I stalk like crazy, my favorite author
writing mentor, that ol' Tayari. I haven'ttalked to her all summer, so I've been stalker stanning her something crazy on Words with Friends (Call me, Celie!).
I'm not a bag of nerves when I talk to her anymore. In the beginning, I was so starstruck by her, my favorite author in the world, that I made extra sure to be on my best behavior. That meant no busted english or wrong answers to questions. But after so many years, she gets the REAL LadyLee. I've gone from Hello when she calls to "Whassup Celie, Whatcha want, man!" LOL.
So we had a chance to talk. She has been rehabbing a busted shoulder, so we were laughing and half crying about that. I know what it's like to be in recovery and realize how foul it feels to take bodyparts for granted. Plus, she has such great stories to tell. And I expressed my angst over my sister leaving me. And she listened and consoled.
Tayari has to be one of my favorite people to converse with. We're only a few months apart in age and we are both SWATS chickens, so we get along very well. We've been friends for some 10 years now, and that's about the time needed to understand and accept people's arc. In other words, she deals well with my unique ways nicely.(Yes, that's a good word... unique).
But this chick is the most giving person I've ever met. Just generous to no fault, to the point where I fight the air with my fists as she tells me stories of some of her generosity, and I'm holler"See Man, I wanna give and sow on that level!" She does stuff that's just her... automatic. THAT'S where I want to be. I've been working on it for close to 20 years. I've got a long way to go. And besides that, my already genius IQ increases by 1 point when I talk to her.
She's such a great writing mentor. But this is the first time in a long time that we didn't talk about writing. Too bad, because I need for her to read something. Humph. Glad to talk to her anyhow!
Much more went on this weekend. Too much to talk about in this post. But what I'm truly appreciate is that this has been a month already that I've had a chance to sit back and listen to the unique stories... stories of people's lives. To look at people, you never know they are dealing with certain issues. You never know the things they have overcome to get and be where they are. And my prayers this weekend, and this morning evening, were "Thank you Lord for allowing me to listen to people's stories." I appreciate just understanding just one more layer of a person. I've even spent the month writing down those stories and how I felt about them... and how they helped me.
Song of the Week. Uh, this is indicative of the many stories I've heard this month. Stories of the People. (Hey that's a good title for a book of short stories, hmm). "Creep" by Radiohead.
There's nothing like good grundge music, honey. Nothing like it!
That's it for me! We are moving fast towards the end of sweepstakes! I HOPE I can get some 40-50 posts up. That would mean 4 to 5 $100 gift cards available. How LOVELY would that be? Very lovely indeed. So don't be surprised if you see 2 or 3 posts a day.
I have not been able to do all I want to do. And my spiritual posts wipe me out for some reason. And I think they are too... deep for ya'll. I promise though, some months from now, you will remember them and say, "Oh, NOW I get what she was talking about." Plus, I catalog posts here in a certain way so I can go back and look them up... just to encourage myself. There are ovoer 2000 posts here. That's a lot of encouraging!
Comment to win. Check back often. May be 2 or 3 posts per day. Don't worry, they may (or may not be). We're up to 32 posts. I should easily be able to make 40 posts. And I will push to 50 if possible. However many the number, it's up to YOU to comment. The more comments, the more chances there are to win. Laura seems to be gunning hard. And wouldn't it be nice if folks won multiple cards? OH JOY!! Talking about buying some groceries and panties at the Wal-marts.
