C Is for Cookie…That’s Good Enough For Me

Rarely do I take the time to write about things for the sake of just writing. This time, however, is different. I really don’t know the purpose of this other than to rehearse in my mind my recent introduction to cookie-wonderful. Recently I had an opportunity to try Insomnia Cookies, a new hot spot in my hometown of Birmingham, Alabama. I was a bit reluctant to sample the sweet concoctions, not sure if I was sure that a chain establishment which prided itself on warm cookies delivered as late as 3am which cost more than $1 each would be worth its weight in cocoa.

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I’m a cookie monster of sorts who fondly remembers baking homemade chocolate chip cookies each year for Christmas at least since the original airing of Jim Henson’s Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas. While most children delighted in candy out of wrappers I preferred cookies out of bags like Archway’s Windmill, Iced Molasses or Frosty Lemon Cookies. I still relish the smell of the scent of Ginger Snaps (name brand or not) which my mother dished out, served in true Tupperware containers. I even remember as an adult when I cracked the code (as in found a recipe on the Internet) for the Double Tree Hotel’s famous cookies, started baking them and passing them out in Ziplock bags as gifts. I love cookies!

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Back to the lecture at hand. A co-worker of mine, who is a bit younger in age, carried on and on about the cookies from Insomnia Cookies. She talked about how she remembered them from her days in college just a few year ago and how, in her Midwestern words, I quote, “OMG, Angela…They’re soooooooooooooo good”. Not wanting to mess up my love-love relationship with cookies and ruin any lingering memories I had I held off trying them for an entire day. Then I tried them. I’m glad I did. I’m really, really glad I did.

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Melty. Ooey. Gooey. Warm. Moist. Delicious. Flavorful. Rich. Filling. Satisfying. Memorable and Worth It are all words which readily come to mind as I reflect on those small, round, tenderly sweet, disks of baked dough. The White Chocolate Macadamia and Chocolate Chunk were worth writing home to mom about. The Peanut Butter, on the other hand, was worth writing a blog post about. Baby, it was that good! My father does a little dance anytime he tastes something pleasing to his palate. These cookies made me want to break out into a jig right in the middle of my office. They were that good!

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Again, I’m not sure of the purpose of this post, other than to allow Insomnia Cookies to channel my inner Sesame Street puppet and say C is for Cookie…that’s good enough for me.

@AngelaMMoore316

It Will Be Alright

I’m 6:22am in the morning, on a rainy November Sunday as I try my best to stay focused on this blog post to make sure I make it to Church of the Highlands by 8am. The semi-perfectionist part of me says to wait until later to write. The not-always-as-obedient to the voice of the Lord as I ought to be, but want to be as much as possible part of me says write right now. So I am. I’m writing this blog post, hopefully in less than 15 minutes to remind some and inform others that “it will be alright”.

So many I know, this writer included, are going through challenging things. I’m fully aware that “things” are a part of life. I watched them from a child’s-eye view in the lives of others growing up, and honestly, had no idea of the true the struggle and strength of those before me. It wasn’t until I became like those before me and surrounded myself with some dynamic men and women that I recognized the purpose of the struggle and the power of the strength of those I know and hold dear. To them all (this writer included) I say, “it will be alright”.

I have nearly a handful of close, qualified, educated, dedicated and faithful friends who at this present juncture in life are without a job. That’s got to be tough, yet they still smile, serve and sow. I have others who are facing financial battles, which, would appear to have been plucked out of a really bad Lifetime movie. That’s got to be tough, yet they still believe God will provide. Still some, are desperately seeking favored answers to prayers about their marriage, their children, housing circumstances, starting over and care of ailing loved ones. That’s got to be tough, yet they still hold fast to what the Lord says is theirs for the asking. And even others who are fighting for their lives literally, in more ways than one. That, has to be the toughest, and still, they choose to wake up each day with the intent of prayers being answered.

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As I type the final words to this post and look forward at the clock on my Charter digital box, which reads 6:47, all I have to say is “it will be alright”. It has to be. God is not going to let His best work go to waste. Some of what we’re enduring now is in line with those of Biblical proportion. Operating in the same faith they had then brings about the same results now. I don’t know how things will work out for better. I don’t know when things will change. I don’t know why things happen. I don’t care who is to blame. All I know, and I know it without a shadow of a doubt, is that “it will be alright” because God says so. And God saying so makes it certain, regardless of ANY situation. Just watch and see.

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@AngelaMMoore316

 

Give It to Me Straight

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Emotions can make us so emotional. That’s especially so when they’ve been caught off guard, dealt a blow, had the rug pulled from up under, snuck up on, or as we used to say on 19th Street SW in Birmingham, Alabama’s West End, when someone has decided to “bust a cag” on our feelings. There’s nothing like a bruised ego, a bit of devastated pride, or some wounded notions to trigger the two-year-old baby in the best of us.

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I, for one, have had the wind kicked out of my emotions too many times to type. Looking back, I can chuckle now as I think of most of my 20s being a perfect picture of “emotions run amuck”. (Thank you to all the friends and family who hung in there with me during this time of, shall we say, growth. Thank you to the creator of social media for waiting until I grew up before opening up the world to the madness which emotions often usher in…LOL!) Anywho, from revelations about so-called relationships, notice of issues with friends, hints of trouble on jobs, news about family, details about my health or simply sage advice on horrible hair and wardrobe choices, most times, the truth I was served seemed devastating and at the time appeared to be to my detriment. Usually it ended up turning out to be the best or worked to move be toward better. Others times, there were times where the truth, with all of it’s stench and sting, was the absolute best medicine, right then and there for what ailed me.

Still, who in their right mind readily welcomes the truth straight, no chaser knowing that the cold, hard truth can often be like taking two of your great-grandmother’s extra-large sized tablespoons of cod liver oil without a dash of honey or strong Coca-Cola to back it up? Some of the best truth, like cod liver oil, will make you want to gag, before making you get better. But it will make you get better. Can you handle it?

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I want to grow more to embrace the truth, to welcome it even. I want to surround myself with people who love me, see me and aren’t afraid to say what helps me, AND be in the proper position to allow them to do that. I want to be able to ask others “what do you think of me”, “what can I do differently”, “what do I need to do better”, “do you really like this dress”, “am I a good friend”, “what do you really think of this relationship”, and so on and so on. I want to be big girl enough to boldly tell a friend, a colleague, a family member or whomever has my best interest at heart to “give it to me straight”. And like a big girl I want to be able to hear it, heed it and keep it moving without getting caught up in emotions.

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@AngelaMMoore316

Men and Women Can Be Friends

Life Gets Better

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Earlier this year, I ran into one of my former high school best friends at the funeral of a mutual friend. We were truly true friends who had a mutual respect and appreciation for each other’s quirkiness that is rare to find in teens. A friendship over a love for Kwame, polka-dots, brownies and “crimped” hair that started our freshman year blossomed into a great brotherhood/sisterhood that proved to be a treasured jewel after I experienced a tragedy my junior year. Then we blew it! We made the ill-fated choice our senior year to wreck the friendship by dating. Yikes! I know! What in the WORLD was I thinking? (I wasn’t.) And when I say wreck it, I mean we wrecked it! We messed up big time. Not only did we damage our friendship, and were truly mean, for lack of a better word, to each other, but we hurt a couple…

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