I napped for about 45 minutes - now I'm unable to sleep. It is 2am. My great-aunt died today (well, rather yesterday Friday). She was 89 years old. Had three heartattacks - the third was called "massive" - it was the one that killed her. I'd just left the hospital after the doctor said her vital signs were stable, she was sedated - a machine was assisting her with breathing. When I went into her room, she was alert. And I told her who I was and she shook her head, acknowledging my presence. I didn't say anything more because I was nervous and scared - she didn't look like the aunt I knew. But my sister and I left, when I got home, I received that CALL - the call that almost made my own heart stop beating. It doesn't matter what age, death seems so unfair - some people should live forever my aunt and my mother would be among that group of people. I almost didn't go to the hospital - thank God that I did. So I'm up late . . . not feeling anything really. I've felt enough for this day . . . this week.
I just finished reading her blog - the entry for 10/6 is interesting. I for the most part leave "Christians" alone - they seem so defensive and argumentative at times. Most will take a scripture out of it's original content and use it to support their beliefs - as a group and as individuals. I've been guilty of it too. I am a Christian, because I believe in Christ but . . . I just can't get with the organization of it - I don't agree with many things. Sometimes I think I'll end up in hell, because I fight against it so . . . but I converse with God regularly - that is important to my sanity on this planet. In fact, I can recall being so angry with God that I told God I wouldn't be speaking with "Him" anymore . . . I question "Him" every day . . . even though most Christians say you should not. But if God is the Father - then a Father is there to teach and the best way to learn is to ask questions. I'm sure God responds, sometimes - most times I just don't recognize the answers. Like today, I asked - what's the point in living, when we have to die? Isn't that just a waste of time, space, and energy? A waste of something - like teasing or making a promise. The people who raise you, love you and protect you - when they leave - they are gone - that is a pain that can not be erased. Some say time heals wounds - I say it creates a scab and sometimes scabs fall away but there's that scar remains. I'll always feel the pain of that scar my mother's sudden, unexpected death caused me - I'll never forget it, even though she visits me regularly in my dreams and she is always smiling. Just this morning my Grandmother, Grumpy - told me that it wasn't time for my mother to go. She's been praying about it . . . said God will reveal it to her in a dream but that it wasn't her time. I just listened but in my mind I said: "Don't tell me, tell God - he's the one who let her die." I mean, we get mad a killers but do they really kill? We put them in jail, some fry and others are gased but if God is in control . . . religion dictates that we have free will . . . good. But if I don't want to die and I don't want to feel pain . . . then my will is not free. I don't need to witness the destruction of tornados to appreciate a sunny day - I love sunny days.
I'm supposed to be writing for the next issue of TBP but, I can't. For one, the topic is "politics" and I'm sick of it. I'm weary. And for the other - well another fantastic lady has been removed from my life. The world is cruel enough and the good people keep leaving. It appears that the only things left in this world are rapists, child molestors, speeding cars, drunk drivers, greedy politicians (all of them), sex crazed men, love starved women, neglected children, ignorant people - basically - pain. The more we learn, the more we gain, and the more we obtain, the more sin and evil remain. Seems like with the advancement of technology, science and medicine - the world would be a better place, but it only has become more selfish. So for that alone, I am unable to write about politics - in whatever form. I do agree with you but right now, I say just give me a president so I can ride his ass every chance I get . . . he's supposed to do what the people want, he's no fucking king or queen - but OUR servant. So let him serve us and the best way for him to know his place is to constantly remind him . . . weather it be Bush or Gore - fuck a party! How can we call ourselves "United" States when we have so much discourse and separation? What is it that we agree upon that makes us so united? Anyway.
Oh yeah, I just finished watching Saturday Night Fever. I love that movie. When it came out I was about 11 years old and my father wouldn't allow us to see it. I remember him saying so, then whispering something about "sex" and "condoms" in my mother's ear. Then a "pg" version was released and we were allowed to see it . . . they didn't take out the condom scene but back then I didn't know what a condom was and didn't care, I just wanted to see Vinnie Barbarino - John Travalto - he's was cute then and still it. "Can you dig it? I knew that you could." Huny, created this - I love it! makes me feel a wee bit happier right now.
Flash Dance is coming on . . . I loved the dancing, very expressive . . . the story line and acting was cheesy as hell . . . guess I'll go watch it . . . oh joy . . . what a . . . w o n d e r f u l life!
I found
her, listed
here and have had them bookmarked for a while. I enjoy a good blogger. Ain't nothin' else like it in the world - to find one that's filled with something more than mindless babbling and senselessness - kinda like comparing Outkast to the Cash Money Millionaires (I'm an Outkast fan) - there is no comparison whatsoever. Oh, I'm guilty of the mindless blah blah blah too . . . . but anyway. I was reading
Elisabeth's blog this morning and decided to follow her links - you can sometimes find the diamonds and gold by searching excellent sites who have a list of their own favorites sites linked. And behold, I found this jewel. There are no bells and whistles (flash stuff, ya know) - just a nice simple layout topped by the excellent written opinions of a southern girl (i'm southern which is another plus for her). Nothing nasty or rude (that I've read so far - it wouldn't matter to me at this point anyway) - but very enjoyable. I've bookmarked her site too. I'm a sucker when it comes to reading good stuff. I am sometimes like a child - I like pictures - images - visuals - FLASH even. But pictures, like a snack, don't always fill me up. I sometimes want my meat and potatoes with gravy. And I'm a southern girl . . . "would'ya please pass the jelly!" (lol).
Check out this site.
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Grumpy, my grandmother, made a second request: "Why don't we just keep Clinton for another year until they get this mess fixed?" Hmmmm, Granny, I mean Grumpy . . .
Marta news - Rather this is a spotting of the most fake kind. This morning on the bus the most unoriginal woman I've ever seen boarded and sat down next to me. Already, I was in a fowl mood but something about those spider leg eye lashes really added to the simmering hatefulness perched on my chest like a hungry vulture. She prissed around on her seat, switching - turning left - right, crossing/uncrossing her legs, a sad attempt at imitating Hollywood's version of beauty. Everything about her was fake . . . her eyelashes, her fingernails, dripping of red polish and filed into claws, her hair - over a million strands weaved in with her own to create what my friend Carl refers to as the "predator look." But her eye lashes were the epitome of fakeness - caught my eye immediately. It could have been the way she rolled those blue contact burdened eyes feathered by eye lashes not belonging to her at certain people or coly batted them at others. I wanted to ask her if she voted for George Bush - she seemed so hell bent on creating an illusion of something she was not - promising certain people the truth when what really lay behind was a disguise to cover up the lie of who she really must be . . . underneath it all. Then when she got off the bus, she blamed the driver for making her miss another bus on yesterday. She even had the nerve to make a special request - asked him to let her off at a busy intersection, rather than the next stop. Luckily, this particular driver isn't a push over and was not hypnotized by the coy brushing of fake lashes on her fake colored skin. She huffed and sucked her teeth - "I should have gotten off before you crossed over Clairmont . . . you made me miss my other bus yesterday."
ps: I've no problem with women, or men, who have hair weaved in with their own hair - and I also enjoy wearing make-up. BUT I think make-up and such things should be used to enhance what is already there - otherwise you end up looking like a clown. And clowns scare small children and some adults. Take a look at Stephen King's "It" - that thing called Pennywise . . .
My Grandmother, whom we call Grumpy (yeah she can be grumpy - well wicked is a more fitting description), called my sister and these are her words: "Gore won over Chicago. That's good, I knew I could count on Carey. Carey did a good job. Carey carried Chicago." Okay, Carey is my boyfriend and he lives in Chicago. The man is wonderful, awesome and I love him dearly - he is a strong man . . . but I don't think he "carried" Chicago. That's so funny to me, that her faith in Carey and his abilities are so strong.
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I have read so many wonderful blogs. Trying to bookmark them is quite a task . . . because I'm at work. So I have to forward them home as well. But I do alot of reading here . . . because that's part of my responsibilities to READ. Mostly health related news articles but still I get caught up sometimes - that is one more reason to enjoy this position. I can handle the phones (even though it has been a while since I've been responsible for taking messages) and I take a deep breath when people walk in and expect me to know . . . you know crazy stuff like "is it gonna rain today." You know, things beyond my control.
One of our directors is really pissed about this election, which everyone is - Republicans, Democrats and Others. But she's just a bit different. She's cool or is it kewl! Whatever.
I do have Marta stories . . . but I don't feel like writing about them. Plus . . . I'm ready to go home.
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All day long . . . yesterday was a dreary day - as if Mother Nature was in mourning - - - dressed herself up in a sorrowful outfit of gray doom and gloom - was this some kind of forshadowing that
certain people overlooked? All summer long Georgia has been under water restrictions - no rain, just pure sunshine. Beautiful light - I wasn't complaining because God will take care of us if we allow God AND on top of that, people need to get their priorities straight - what's more important having water to drink or watering your lawn and washing your car? Even last week the sun was bright, people sporting shorts and sandals. Now, today, as it was on yesterday - it is cold, the air is thick and pregnant with thunderstorms. It is cool, which it should be at this time of the year but . . . this morning the sky hangs low like the heavens have been suddenly over burdened with some form of bad news. I'm not implying that God is saying to Georgia "what the hell did you do at the polls last night?" Nor am I implying that nature is reflecting the gloom which is sure to come if Bush is indeed president, but it does make you wonder.
Also, can we do away with this electoral vote crap! This is one strange election
. . .
Yippee and hip hip hurray! Kudos to Cynthia McKinney (here in the ATL) and Hillary Clinton (even though I do not live in New York, I'm glad she won. I adore Hillary - she's an awesome lady!).
Geocities was doing some strange things with my blogger account - I was receiving too many errors so I've switched to
blogspot.com. I'm also starting another blogger, She's Come Undone - I will post my "feelings" about certain issues over there and keep the Marta Chronicles strictly for Marta . . . because I-I-I-I-I can't let it go, even though I don't ride Marta as often as I used to.
Now I have to change the look and get ride of the geocities links and things . . .
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I too resort to calling people dumb or stupid when I've nothing more intelligent to say OR I have no facts to prove my case. It is that basic low self, part of human nature. We all bow to it at times.
It bothers me that people become irrate and nasty because your opinion differs from that of their own. It is as if they are angry because you have the ability to think for yourself . . . to look past the present and into the future, to see the big picture and not just look at 2 or 3 small pictures that include only your beliefs.
I was napping on the sofa and my sister, who's husband is supporting Bush while she supports Gore, called. My daughter woke me just to say that Bush has Georgia. Now I can't go back to sleep, not that I'm surprised just annoyed and a part of me is confused by the part that is annoyed.
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This weekend, I told my family that I would be voting for Pat Buchanan. For a minute or two, all was quiet - then it was shattered by the sassy voice of my sister warning me not to waste my vote. I smiled and said again "I'm voting for Pat." You're such an idiot if you do, someone said. There were eyes rolled my way and a steady silence that was only broken when one of the kids in the other room turned up her radio too loud. I wanted to laugh but didn't.
This morning, my grandmother had my cousin call me - another subtle warning. I haven't voted yet but who the hell are they to tell me who to vote for? I just told the people in my office I would be voting for Buchanan, after someone commented about "what's the big deal, why is everyone keeping it a secret?" People looked at me with question mark faces - then I blurted out that I was kidding. Still if I want to vote for Pat or George why is it that people become annoyed, shocked or angry? Just because I am a black woman, the world expects me to automatically vote democrat. Isn't that unfair to assume, like some kind of political stereotype, that being black means being a democrat? The whole push behind getting people out to vote is to VOTE or else you won't count or don't count. But I do believe that when these encouraging people approach you to vote, what they are really saying is when you vote, vote for the right man and the right man is the man I'm voting for. And who's the right man? You never know until he gets into office. A man can tell you anything to get what he wants - a man will tell you he loves you just to get into your panties, a man will tell you he's degreed just to get a job, a man will lie . . . just to get what he wants. So, does it really matter whether I vote Buchanan or Gore? I mean, if I were to walk into a room with them both and neither one was running for office, would they approach me - ask me about my opinions? If I saw Bush in a movie theater would he strike up a conversation with me? Am I being used just for a vote - does my opinions and feelings really count in this nation at all? Aren't we all tired of hearing and having to point out the same problems over and over and over again?
I will be voting Gore but the point is, I should be able to vote how ever I wish without being called an uncle tom or a sell out, or clueless. How could I bring myself to vote for a man who allowed an innocent man to be put to death for a crime that he did not commit (although I have no problem supporting the death penalty when, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the evidence supports that the person did the crime)? How could I cast a vote for a man who's courting Alabama like it were a beauty queen - a state which doesn't allow interracial marriages? But at the same time, these things still exist . . . under a much bigger umbrella - THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.
Still I wish there were other choices. To vote Nader, would be wasting a vote, so I'm told. Just this morning my sister commented that Nader should drop out and support Gore so that those supporters would follow . . . but who's to say that would happen. Only time will tell, we'll know tomorrow. And regardless to whomever fills the shoes of "Mr. President" we will still have to remind him of the ills, we will still have to write letters, attend meetings and talk about things met over last year and the years before but most of all we will still have to PRAY because one nation under God will crumble without it.
