I Ain't Said Nothin' But A Word...

I've been out of commission for the past week, recovering from laser eye surgery. I've been close to blind since I was a little girl, wearing bottle-thick eyeglasses since I was eight years old. They were not pretty. I battled contact lenses some twenty-odd years ago when they were annoying nuisances that had to be taken out and cleaned daily. This was before the era of disposal lenses that you could actually sleep in. I slept in mine a few times too but neither my doctor nor my eyes were happy about it. So I gave them up and thanked the folks who made light weight plastic lenses and more fashionable frames. And I accepted my lot in life. I would always need assistance of some sort to see. Years ago when laser eye surgery became the medical procedure de jour , I was ready. Everyone and his mother convinced me to wait to see if there were any long term residual effects they didn't yet know about and for the price of the procedure to go down to a more reasonable level. I didn

The first amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America, loosely translated, says that the government will not make any laws that will restrain or restrict an individuals right to say or publish what they want to. Have at it, what you spew is on you. It’s these tenets of free speech that allow any of us to say and/or write what we want without fear of retribution. At least that’s what it’s supposed to do. But clearly, not all speech is free and we’ve seen example after example of that as well. Remember the Dixie Chicks and their comments about Heir Bush? Don Imus got his head handed to him this past week for exercising his right to free speech. He made a racist joke about the young women on the Rutgers basketball team, calling them “nappy-headed hos”. His comments were just ignorant and totally uncalled for, but the Constitution gives him the right to say whatever he wants to say. It was his arrogance that led him to believe that his doing so would be okay. Imus discove

There’s something overwhelming about the lightest caress that leaves you thoroughly heated, as if the hand that just brushed against your knee held lighter fluid and a match in the fingertips. The feeling of that special someone stepping behind you, just close enough where you can feel the heat from their body but not so close that you actually make contact. It’s a sensation that is so intense that you feel as if you might actually combust from the magnitude of it. When kisses are so sweet, so overwhelmingly intoxicating that not only can’t you breathe, but you forget your name, the time of day, and the fact that you’re standing in the middle of a crowded room with every eye on you. That’s what Joely says it’s like for her and Carl. Joely and Carl are enjoying their new relationship. They were good friends first and recently allowed their connection to transition to something more. After weeks of trading some extremely passionate kisses and caresses, both are ready to take their intima

I was tired. So tired that I took to my bed this afternoon to vegetate the day away. I was tired because being angry uses a lot of energy and I’ve been angry for a day and a half now. I realize that what I feel isn’t really anger, but hurt. I’m hurt. My feelings have been bruised and usually I have a very thick skin so I don’t know why this is bothering me as much as it is. I feel slighted by a good friend and I’m not quite sure slighted is the right word for me to use. This person didn’t necessarily do anything to me and what I’m angry/hurt about wasn’t intended to be malicious. I understand all this and could rationalize it for days but it stills stings and I do not like the feeling. I’m sure my friend’s actions came from a good place, and like I said it wasn’t something done to me, but more about what my friend wouldn’t allow me to do for her. I know her well enough to know that she hasn’t given a second thought to her actions, probably believing that what she did to usurp what I i

Just a quick update because I'm short on time and energy. This has been an unusual week for me. Family came to visit unexpectedly, commanding attention that I had reserved for elsewhere. To say that I wasn't a happy camper was putting it mildly but what can you do when it's family. Unfortunately I didn't do well because I lost sleep, writing time, spirit, and an ounce or two of my sanity. By the end of their seven day visit I was ready to see them leave. So much so that when the alarm went off at four AM to get them to the airport for their early morning flight, I was the first one in the car, ready to go. Karma, of course, came back to bite me in the butt for my unkind thoughts. Shortly before their departure I took a nasty fall, tripping over my feet onto a gravel walkway headfirst into the front quarter panel of my car. It wasn't pretty. Three hours between doctors and I am bruised and battered like I went seven rounds in a boxing match. The lump on my forehead

I know a couple that is navigating their way toward what they hope will be a permanent relationship. Both sense that they would be dynamic together and they relish the moment when they can be more public with their affection for each other. They are taking it slow though, both unloading luggage they've collected separately over the years. It's excess baggage that could potentially destroy them before they can even get started on a joint journey if they're not careful to unpack and be rid of its contents. I can appreciate that they are mindful of the fact that entering a new relationship before they've dealt with their respective issues and demons will not serve either of them well. I've watched them do that courtship dance where they've slowly grown to know and appreciate each other. When the WOW-factor of what could possibly exist between them hit, it hit hard, surprising them both when they least expected it. Now they're anxious to see how far they can tak

I don’t know what got in to me today but since last night I’ve been craving a sweet piece of chocolate like there is no tomorrow. And I mean craving it like I’m addicted and in need of a sweet tooth fix, craving it. My love for chocolate goes way beyond the call for a simple taste of sweetness. It’s a love that has become so consuming that I can’t begin to imagine anything else comparing to it. My want of it is like nothing I have ever experienced before and with each taste, I hunger for more like I’ve been starved of sugar and sweets all my life. I understand all the scientific rhetoric about chocolate stimulating the release of endorphins and natural body hormones that generate feelings of pleasure and well being, but it’s more than that for me. My chocolate desire has a strength and sensuality that I can’t begin to find the words for. Its allure is joyous and endearing. With me and chocolate there is a sense of contentment and bliss like I have never known. And I am craving it! I’m

It’s hell when you’re craving conversation and you can’t get anyone to talk to you. I realized after hanging up with a friend, our conversation barely lasting five minutes as he wished me a good night, that I was really in a mood to talk to someone and he was clearly not interested in talking to me. Other folks were out and about, not answering their telephone and I was feeling a little lonely. Actually, I was feeling a lot lonely. Even my baby boy wasn’t interested as he took off to spend the night with friends, clearly uninterested in talking to his mother. And so I called Mr. Ben to see how he was and he invited me to his house to shoot the breeze with him over a cup of coffee. Not only did he have coffee but also a decadent chocolate cake that one of his lady friends had made for him. It took one bite of cake and a sip of coffee (I swear he spiked it) and I was feeling a whole lot better. Mr. Ben has more wisdom packed in his wrinkled little finger than most folks will ever know in

Dear Debby is taking a break today and maybe next week too. I'm looking for advice for myself as I try to maneuver my way through a long standing problem that has resurfaced with a vengeance. It's far easier to be an outsider looking in at someone else's problems than it is to be smack dab in the middle of your own mess. And although I welcome words of wisdom and all the advice I know good intentions can offer, I ultimately know that I am the only one who can decide what is best for me. So while I figure out what I need to do for Debby, I imagine there's little advice I'm going to be able to offer anyone else. Until the next time, take care of yourselves!

My next book, Always Means Forever , will drop in June. The new cover showed up on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble .com this past week. I'm not head over heels in love with it but I definitely don't hate it. In fact, I'm actually impressed that the woman on the cover actually resembles the character in the book. Covers are always an issue for authors, especially those of us who don't get any say in how our covers will look. There is only one that I felt actually captured the characters and the story and that was the cover for my second book, A LOVE FOR ALL TIME . When I first saw that cover I instantly knew the exact scene from the book it represented. I loved that cover. And though I may have complained, I did truly value my other covers. They represented someone's hard work that was done on my behalf and I do appreciate that. I love the next book. It was a fun write. It's the story of Bridget Hinton and Darwin Tolliver . Bridget and Darwin were first introduced

Ms. Betty readily admits that she made some really bad life choices. She was barely fifteen when she fell in love. Head over hills, had her slapping her mama it felt so good, in love. The object of her affection however was significantly older than she was. So much so that her daddy put them both on notice. He was off limits and if the man wanted to live a long and full life, then he had to stay as far from Ms. Betty as he could. Needless to say, neither Ms. Betty or her man paid any heed to her daddy's words of wisdom. Ms. Betty was sixteen when she became pregnant with her first child. Fearing that her father would do her honey some harm, she maneuvered to put the pregnancy on someone else, a boy closer to her own age who'd had his eye on her. When her daddy found out, he did what they did back in the day. Grabbed that shotgun by the front door and let the two mamas arrange a nice family wedding, quick and fast. Devastated, Ms. Betty's true love went his own way and marr