It’s Not Hard to Find My Heroes

A line from a Public Enemy’s Fight the Power song tiptoed through my mind while at a conference. The in-your-face and oh-so-factual line, “most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps” found its way to my head and decided to hang out for a while.


As I mulled over that music, which temporarily took the place of all things PRINCE, I realized how absolutely true that is.

Y’all, I’m blessed. I’m blessed to know some amazing women whom I call mentors, mother, besties, sisters, mentees, colleagues and friends who are simply nothing short of amazing. This post is simply to say thank you to them for being who they are…my heroes.



  • My role models who wake up before I do (and I wake up early) and slumber less than I do (and I love sleep) to make it happen at home, in business, in ministry and look fabulous while doing it.
  • My moms and single moms who do what they have to do to lead, guide, provide, expose, pray, educate, cheer, chauffer, support and sprinkle a little fun in the lives of their family all day, every day.
  • My singles who have decided once and for all that life alone is better than life with someone who needs to be left the heck alone.
  • My sisters who have sealed the deal and officially changed their names to Doctor despite rearing families, dealing with loss of loved ones and overcoming personal tragedy and disappointment.
  • My examples who have taken the body they were given and literally worked their butts off to have the body inside and out they deserved.
  • My grown women at the helm of uninvited or unexpected recreation who buckled on their seat belts, prayed through the court appearances, assured the children, reworked the finances, held their tongues, offered grace and forgiveness, wiped their own tears, accepted their new (which used to be old) last name and lot in life and believed God for His absolute best for their children and them.
  • My sheroes who rose out of gut-wrenching pain and loss so stifling to live to see another day and another and another and another, believing with each day that the next would be better.
  • My seasoned ladies who stop the world to take care of their men, nursing them back to health or take up for their children praying them back to where they need to be…and sometimes doing it at the same time.
  • My loved ones who have lost mothers or mother figures, but have not once ceased to be amazing mothers, mother figures, friends and healing partners for those depending on them while they greatly depend on God.
  • My trailblazers who aren’t afraid to speak up on the job, ask for what they deserve or support those who are mistreated/misunderstood and do it with a professional smile and “handle my business” attitude all the while.
  • My bold beauties who dare to stand on the side of right when it’s not comfortable, when it causes confusion within their social, spiritual or professional circle and when they don’t want to, but know they have to.
  • My determined girls who don’t take no for an answer…whether it be in their families or desire to grow their family, on their jobs, with their health and everything in between.
  • My smart chicas who decide to take a break, get away, shut down, or selah for self.
  • My pom-pom squad who are not afraid to sincerely see another sister shine and flash their own light in that sister’s direction to make sure she shines even brighter.


So, while most of my hereos don’t appear on no stamp, I’m glad they’ve decided to stick with me, because I’m shole (as in surely) determined to stick with them. We’re all going somewhere and need each other to get there.





Being a Wife Didn’t Ruin Your Life

Life Gets Better

I had a great night’s sleep after Charter decided to go out leaving me TV-less and wireless. That means I rose this morning earlier than normal with a thought on my mind for divorced women. Let me interrupt that thought by adding another thought. I hate the devil, and I’m pretty sure I’m not on his “favorite girl” list. I peeped his game in my own life a few years ago, and would like to call him out today.


Back to the message at hand.

Dear, sweet, beautiful, valuable, worthy, trusted, overcoming divorced woman...Being a wife didn’t ruin your life and the divorce didn’t either. In my Master P voice, ‘ya heard’? That’s right. Being a wife didn’t ruin your life. Don’t buy into the BS (Backwards System) of thinking that your life has been ruined because you honored the holy matrimony of marriage, trusted your spouse, stayed when you could…

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Don’t Dare Speak for Me

I’m still thinking about Prince and watching Purple Rain (again) so I’m feeling a certain way. With that said, let me say this.
I’m nowhere in the realm of “known-ness” as Prince, but decades and decades and decades from now when I go home to see sweet Jesus please know that there are people in my life who are assigned by me to speak for me. The approximate five or six of them are aware that they can speak on my behalf and about my bees-wax because they will be the ones who truly, truly know it as having been proven staples on this journey of this crazy thing called “my” life. They have permission and my request to please attach their names to the statements they make so that it’s official. That means if you hear ANYTHING about me, my life, my death (decades and decades and decades from now) or anything in between and a specific name is not attached it is NOT to automatically be believed.  Got it? Good.
As a former real journalist, who just paid off her 25-years-old student loans in early 2016, I’m so concerned about the impact of these “sources close to the star”, “unnamed source”, and “industry insider” salacious speculations which come out when someone of influence (or not) passes or has a major life challenge. People have feelings, people! I often wonder how the ones writing speculated or fabricated facts would feel if the same were said or done about or in regard to those they know and love.
People deserve to live in peace. They certainly deserve to die the same way regardless of who they are. Hopefully we’re all trying to do our best to make it out of here to the other side (Heaven, if you didn’t know). None of us need any added critics en route or unwarranted commentary upon arrival.
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Thank You, Prince


Since hearing of his death I’ve been thinking I should say something about Prince. After all, honor must be given to the man who’s song Adore was the backdrop to my first “slow dance” with about ten feet between my “date” and me at my Club G.I.O.R.G.I.O. Cotillion way back in 1987. Tribute must be paid to the man who’s music hummed me to sleep through breakups, encouraged me along through makeups, was my first pick when in charge of the music at my Birmingham, AL movie theater job and at times felt way too grown and sexy to be entering my ears yet found a place in my mind like few beats and lyrics did. Mad props must be offered to one of the few artists I truly, truly, truly attribute to providing the soundtrack to my life, right up to his latest hit, which I adored. Purple and paisley pun intended.

Prince and Me

There are so many songs, so many memories attached to the songs, so many emotions attached to the memories attached to the songs and so many reasons why I simply don’t have much to say. I’ve scrolled social media, mulled over memes, conversed on the phone, sat in front of the TV for HOURS watching music videos while working and tried to wrap my head around why this is 2nd most difficult celebrity loss for me next to Whitney Houston. I can’t wrap my head around it. I’m not sure it I want to.


Borrowing wisdom from my baby sister, I will say this. I’m organizing my list of “Must Sees”. There are people who shared their gifts and shaped my world that I want to see and NEED to see, if nothing more than to remind them that their music and their lives STILL MATTER to so many. Be it God’s will, I will, before another artist I owe a hearty, hair-sweating, hand-waving “thank you” to joins that Heavenly choir in the sky.




Who Were You Before Hurt Happened?

Life Gets Better


Have you ever wondered who you were before whatever happened happened that hurt you enough to change who you were? A recent conversation with a friend prompted that thought as I saw how this person clawed through the damages of the tragedies of past hurts to try to cling for dear life to the progress she’d made in an effort to hold on to that progress rather than revert back to her natural response from the past. We talked about her fears of facing the person responsible for that pain and how much that one single individual’s presence had alter her life in a way no man or woman deserved. We also talked about how we wondered what must have happened to the person who hurt her to allow that person to be so hurt that transferring hurt was the solution. We talked and talked and talked. I wondered aloud and internally…

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A Culinary Exploration of Cali-for-ni-a

Recently I was blessed to be able to travel to beautiful Anaheim, California to celebrate the milestone success of my special guy.

The trip was so excellent and so exclusive that I wasn’t able to take pictures during any of the corporate festivities. That means I don’t have anything to show for the food they lavished us with from the time of our arrival to the time we departed. So no photographs of the gourmet meals of filet mignon and grilled chicken. No quick pics of the Asian buffet, Mexican buffet, slider buffet, and sandwich buffet (with the best Orzo E-V-E-R). No visuals of the breakfast samplings so abundant and assorted they would rival any Cracker Barrel and Shoney’s combined (except they were gourmet). And no captured memories of the unlimited Mickey ears ice cream, cake pops, chocolate ganache dessert, churros and liquid elixirs of kiddie strength and much stronger.

Not to fret though, the beautiful Disneyland Hotel and ALL the nibblets of goodness around, and an hour and a half away in North Hollywood proved to be just the perfect sampling of food, food, food!

I won’t do it a disservice by trying to describe it all. Sometimes the pictures simply have to speak for themselves. I will say, the next time you’re in Anaheim for a trip to Disneyland, be sure to visit LaBrea Bakery in Downtown Disney for the crab cake sandwich, the fried chicken sandwich with crunchy slaw and a secret sauce, hibiscus lemonade and the perfectly prepared medium-plus burger oozing with juices and flavor.

When you’re adventurous do decide to hop in an Uber and travel all the way to Los Angeles in rush hour to realize why Oprah felt compelled to give Miss Robbie a show because the TJ’s Sweetie Pie’s fried chicken seasoned through and through, macaroni and cheese with abundant perfectly cinched cheese on top, collard greens choked full of meat, peach cobbler better than somebody’s southern Grandmama and lemony-sweet lemonade were enough to write home about. Or at least call and wake up your Mama like I did.  It truly was the BEST soul food this Bama bred girl has ever, ever had. Hands down. Sorry mama and all of my many matriarchs.

When you’re in the Disneyland don’t leave without the butteriest ear of corn you’ve ever had. And be certain to sprinkle visits to The Counter Custom Built Burgers in LAX and Uno Pizzeria Express in Chicago’s O’Hare airport (home of the planned layover to sample some pizza or Chi-town dogs) into your plans. And please, people, whatever you do, don’t ever leave the Happiest Place on Earth without enjoying the magic that is the Disneyland Hotel’s Mickey Mouse cookies, sans the milk for those of us intolerant:)

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Parmesean and Garlic Fries from Counter Custom Built Burgers.png

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Fried Chicken and Slaw with Secret Sauce at La Brea Bakery in Downtown Disney

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Cookies and Milk from Mickey


Get Yourself a Cheerleader

Life Gets Better

I’ve been observing relationships lately. Not just relationships along the lines of “boos” and “baes” (I truly detest the word bae for some reason), but relationships between families, friends, coworkers and comrades.


I’ve witnessed in others, and seen for myself the figurative Negative Nellies, Doubting Deborahs, Cynical Sams, Tear apart Tommies and Gossipping Glendas literally rip relationships to shreds for selfish gain and other unwise reasons. Like a bad bug in a pre-school classroom filled with less than hygienic children, the damage these types of hurting humans can do can be far-reaching and fast-spreading. Those kinds of people, God bless them, are like the hecklers in the sports crowd sent to distract from pending victory. They can throw a game plan off course in the worst possible ways.


Here’s the tea…You better get yourself a cheerleader. Cheerleaders do one thing. They cheer. Whether winning or losing they cheer. Whether it’s raining or…

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