Granddaddy had moved into an “assisted living” apartment in Moorhead, MS and quickly got lovey-dovey with Miss Emma (his girlfriend).

As soon as we got home from school that day, Mama came and scooped us up.  We rode through town…to just three streets south of the remnants of our old house…to The Nature Hut – an old, rickety duplex rested atop cement stumps.  The five wooden steps on the left of the screened-in porch led to our front door.   The shotgun layout boasted a living room, TV room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom…all clearly visible from the thresh hold.  The wooden floor creaked under the weight of our footsteps.  The walls – too few in number – were paper thin.

A family was already living next door.  A mom, dad, three daughters, and two sons.  They were a crazy bunch.  Not scary-crazy but funny-crazy…and honest to a fault.  Every morning was a bit like being a fly on their wall.  We could hear everything from their alarm clock sounding…to the mom yelling for the kids to “GET UP!”…to at least one of the kids announcing that Lil Bro had “pissed the bed again.”

…which he seemed to do most mornings.

And almost every day, one of the kids would come over and ask to borrow a cup of sugar.

“Ma, they wanna borrow another cup of sugar!”

“Well, give it to ‘em.  We got some in there, don’t we?”

“Yes.  What are they doin’ with it?!  They come over here every day wantin’ to borrow sugar!  They can’t be drinkin’ that much koolaid!”

“If we got it, just give it to ‘em,” Mama demanded.  ”I don’t know what they need it for, but just give it to ‘em.  We got it to spare.”

A year or so ago, I got a friend request from the middle child (“MC”) on Facebook.  I hadn’t seen or talked to her…or any of her family members…in forever!  So, I was glad to “see” her again.  We chatted and chatted, talking about the old days.

MC:  Man, I remember dem sugar sandwiches!

Me:  Sugar sandwiches?

MC:  Yep.  We didn’t have no food in the house…just bread.  So, we’d put sugar on it and make a sandwich out of it.  

Me:  Wow…really?

MC:  LOL  Yeah!  You don’t remember when we used to come over to y’all house and borrow some sugar?  We was makin’ sugar sandwiches!

Me:  OMG  I never knew what y’all wanted the sugar for.  Mama just said, “Give it to ‘em”…so I did.

MC:  Yo’ momma was so sweet.  Me and Mom was talkin’ about that the other day.  She was sayin’ how sweet yo’ momma was and how she never turned us away when we asked for somethin’.

Me:  That’s my momma!

MC:  Man, sugar sandwiches…

Me:  Those were the days of livin’ in The Nature Hut!

MC:  Nature Hut???

Me:  That’s what I call that place…because we had/saw/killed every kinda bug you could name in there…spiders, roaches, bugs, wasps, ants, snakes, mice, frogs…and that was INSIDE the house!

MC:  Yep.  I remember!

Today, I found out that MC’s boyfriend was killed in a motorcycle accident Monday night.  He was heading southbound on US 49 when a 1999 Dodge Ram crossed the median and struck him (and another truck) head-on.  He was pronounced dead at the hospital…of blunt force trauma to the head, neck, chest, and other extremities.  Yes, he was wearing a DOT-standard helmet.  The driver was arrested and is alleged to have been driving under the influence.

My heart aches for MC…

My heart aches for me, still.  This whole thing takes me back to a few years ago, when I learned of Babylove’s accident via his Yahoo status.  I cried for days…for so many different reasons.  If he had died that night, I wouldn’t have known unless the story made the news or something.  I wanted to go to him; but I felt like…it wasn’t my place?  …like he didn’t want me there?  …like I might see something/someone that I didn’t wanna know about.  I cried because he was hurt and I couldn’t be there with him, take care of him.  I cried because…I could have lost him (and that crushed me).

For some reason, I knew I would never see him again.  I was surprised when he called and wanted to come over a few months later.  I wish I could have a do-over for that night.  I had so many walls up, trying to act like everything was okay…but he was so different, so distant.  I kept waiting for him to say something.  Not sure what, exactly.  But something.  I’m a realist.  But sometimes, I just wanted him to lie to me…make me feel like I meant more to him than I did.

Everything comes back to this.  Why is that?  Is it because Babylove means so much to me?  Or is it because I’m selfish and go out of my way to bring the discussion back to me, me, me?  

MC – I am so sorry for your loss.  I pray that you find peace, comfort, strength, and healing.  And may your boyfriend rest in peace.

It’s been a long year…for real, though.  But I’m still here.  Might as well make the best of it.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dreamspeaklitmag/dreamspeak-literary-magazine

38 days left and I’m NO WHERE near my goal.  That won’t stop me from trying.  I’m already working on Plan B in case Plan A is not successful.  So, my head is bloodied but unbowed.  ***If you’re reading this and you haven’t pledged a donation yet…you may be excused to go and take care of that NOW.  :)

BREAKING NEWS:  I’m little.

A co-worker followed me all the way out to the parking garage the other day to tell me that.  She said she had “forgotten”…because I’m always sitting down when she sees me.  I guess all those other times I’m in her office because she calls my name a thousand times per day…don’t count.  She only SEES me when I’m sitting down.  And that’s why she forgot that I’m little.  Wait.  That makes it my fault, right?

Just when I thought I’d had enough of this celibacy crap…just when I thought it was time to saddle up and get back in the game…the CDC releases a report that says Atlanta is fulla herpes symplex 10.  le Sigh.  

Rest in peace, Etta James!  I got the CNN alert this morning.  Makes me a little sad.

And speaking of CNN…did that Captain of that cruise ship really say that he “slipped and fell” into that lifeboat?!  Seriously?

Oh.  The young man who (allegedly) sexually assaulted and murdered that 7 year old girl a couple months ago…was found dead (of an apparent suicide) in his jail cell.  *blink, blink*

Did my first “live” interview last Sunday…http://www.blogtalkradio.com/survive365/2012/01/15/its-all-about-diana-lovell.  I was so nervous.  I forgot to look at my notes.  I haven’t listened to it yet; but I’ve gotten lots of positive feedback.

…which I take with a grain of salt because these people are in my circle.

Welp.  It’s time to go “thrifting” in the rain.  Should be messy.  Perfect way to end the week…

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.  My lot in life, I guess…since I refuse to rely on the crutches (= prescription bottles) my doctor keeps advising me to use.

5:30 a.m. and I was alone in bed with my fingers shoved inside my ears to silence the thunder.  But the sudden flashes of light peaking through tiny spaces around the windows still made my heart beat faster.  I forced my eyes shut and thought of my mother’s bed…how comforting it was to be in it with her at times like this.  I never had to call her name or shake her awake.  At the first clap of His Mighty Hand, she knew I was coming.  I’d climb into bed and hide underneath the covers in the safety of her warm embrace.

What’s the rush?  

I knew traffic was gonna be a nightmare.  So, I allowed myself to go to sleep for a little while.  Then, I got up and started my day.

I didn’t expect to find a parking space when I got to work;  but somebody up there likes me today!  I pulled in, right next to an older model Chevy.  I think it was a Chevy.  I was so distracted by the flood of memories that swept over me.

There was a white boy…Shannon was his name.  He was a stocky guy.  Kinda mean-lookin’.  Well…I don’t really know if he was actually mean or not, but he always looked mean and didn’t socialize with us much.

10th grade.  He was in my Typing class.  We were cordial to one another.  And I clearly recall several times when I helped him with his typewriter, his typing, the lessons for the day.

One day, I asked the girl sitting next to me if she or anyone had seen him.  He hadn’t been to class in a week or so.  I thought he’d dropped the class.  But it was so late in the year…that just didn’t make sense.

“I heard he was in a bad car accident,” she said, her eyes bugged out.  ”I thank he was in a coma or somethin’!  Yeah, he got hurt real bad, I heard!”

Shannon was with a group of friends, riding on the back of a truck.  When the truck pulled off at a rapid speed, he fell off…backwards.  They said he landed on his head…HARD.  I don’t know how long he was in a coma, but eventually, he woke up!  He was no longer the same person.  He didn’t remember much.  Had to learn everything all over again.  And there was long-term brain damage.

2 years later…Senior year…I was standing outside the band room one day when the “TMR” kids came through.  The class of approximately 20 developmentally-challenged kids (and young adults) were holding hands en route to the cafeteria.  I stood against the wall, smiling and waving back at each of them as they walked by.

Shannon was at the end of the line.  I hadn’t seen him since before his accident.  He had a permanent smile on his face.  He appeared to be a little heavier…his hair was shorter on one side than the other…he appeared to be HAPPY.

He walked a few steps passed me…then stopped.

“I remember you!” he said with excitement in his voice.  ”HEYYY!  I remember you!”

His teacher looked at me with tears in her eyes.

“Hey!”  I responded.  ”I remember you, too, Shannon!  It’s so good to see you again!”

He ran to catch up with his class.

The teacher came over to me and said, “You two must’ve been good friends!  He doesn’t remember a whole lot from before the accident.”

I didn’t say anything back…just shook my head.

I can’t recall seeing him again after that.  And I’ve seen a million trucks since that day.  Not sure why the white one that I parked next to this morning…reminded me him.

Shannon, where ever you are…I still remember you!  And I pray that you are well!  :)

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,100 times in 2011. If it were a cable car, it would take about 18 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Life goes on.

It won’t be pretty – the 38th lap.  All this shit draggin’ the ground.  The pieces of me.  Sparks flyin’.  A thick cloud of dust and head-splitting screams accompanying my stride.  Damn it.  I’m still in it to win it!

That’s what feels right.

A (rather passive) friend recently suggested that I stop fighting (against adversity) so much and just let whatever’s gonna happen happen.  I’ve been fighting all my life, defying the odds, exceeding expectations.  Fuck that.  I’m too old to change.

Whatever may come, I look forward to each new day.  I wanna see what pops off in 2012…hopefully, more GOOD than BAD.

Happy New Year, y’all.

Love.  Life.  RE-SPECT.

Christmas’s over.

And so…it’s time to launch my latest project.  All or nothin’, baby.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dreamspeaklitmag/dreamspeak-literary-magazine

Today is my 15th 24th birthday…and I’m just ready for it to be over with.  lol  All of the phone calls, emails, IMs, voicemail/text messages, BBMs…are overwhelming.  But it’s nice to know that someone cares.

So…

I sincerely thank you…for remembering…for caring…for acknowledging…for celebrating…my birthday!  Your well-wishes (and Godiva chocolate) mean a lot to me.

My wish?  To find happiness, success, a love of my very own.

Enjoy the rest of my day; and have a very Merry Christmas!

*Call me, damn it!*