NOTE TO SELF COVER—excerpt

When three longtime friends reunite after their divorces, they head to Vegas to forget their troubles and end up as accomplices in a mob hit

NOTE TO SELF . . .

The day started like any other day.

My receptionist, Kristin, had buzzed me on my pager to let me know that my first patient of the day, Larry Schafer, had arrived and was waiting in my office, which is downstairs from the main part of my house. I answered her by saying that I was on my way down, but just then, my house phone began to ring, and hearing it ring made me stop dead in my tracks. I curiously glanced over to the phone and then looked at my watch, and not wanting to keep Mr. Schafer waiting, decided to let the call go into voicemail. But for some reason, the tone of the ring had a strange feel to it, and the fact that it rang at all did more than pique my curiosity. Maybe my overly suspicious defenses were triggered because my friends and family knew to call Kristin if they needed to reach me during the day and that hearing the phone ring, when it shouldn’t be ringing, almost seemed eerie.Deciding to ignore it, I walked over to the back door, just outside my kitchen, and grabbed my sneakers and began putting them on. But by the second ring, my gut was taunting me with the idea that this was no ordinary call. I couldn’t let it go and ran over to answer it.

“Hello?” I said very carefully.

After listening to what the caller had to say, I found that I was unable to move; unsure if I had heard correctly or that maybe the caller had the wrong number. She said that if I was looking for my husband, I could find him at his usual room at the Skyview Motor Lodge, right outside of JFK Airport. Suddenly, my perfect life, with its accomplishments, luxuries, and fantastic circle of friends was pulled from under me, and what I had suspected for years now proved to be more than the occasional suspicion. I buzzed Kristin and told her to reschedule Mr. Schafer and to cancel the rest of my appointments for the day. I was going to put an end to my suspicions once and for all.

As I stood outside the motel door trying to calm my pounding heart, I knew that I was about to face a pivotal moment; a truth that I had evaded for years. Would I be forced into accepting that my husband, the man I’ve known half my life, was nothing more than a con artist who’d deceived me from day one? I inhaled a deep breath and prayed that I wouldn’t fall apart, and then banged on the door several times. When it opened, I was face-to-face with the biggest liar I had ever known.

He had a white towel wrapped around his waist, and beads of sweat were trickling down his temples and chest. His expression was one of utter shock and disbelief. He never expected to see me standing at that door.

As I shoved my way past him and went into the room, I looked over to the bed. She had the sheet pulled up to her neck and was studying me through eyes that were wide with panic. I stared back at her thinking that she was stunningly beautiful—with her light green eyes, flawless complexion, and long auburn mane that flowed down and around her shoulders.

Rage and jealousy came at me all at once; dizzying me to the point where I couldn’t think or even speak. The two of them stayed where they were and just watched me. Neither offered words of explanation—nor an utterance of apology. There was only hard-core silence—the kind that makes time stand still; where admission of guilt, though not verbally expressed, was as deafening as my pounding heart. He was with her! He had sex with her! They had shared that ultimate closeness; that bond that only love making could create. They were whispering words of love, making future plans, but worst of all, they were betraying me—the one who loved him unconditionally—the one who stood by him through thick and thin—who wore the gold ring that signified my inherent place next to him. And now, as he took a step toward me, running his hands through his saturated hair, eyes filled with desperation and shame, I just shook my head not wanting to hear what he had to say. I didn’t want lies. I didn’t want excuses. There was nothing to discuss. He broke our pact—obliterated my trust—and it was a pain that permeated my flesh and etched itself into my soul.

When someone cheats on you, the memory stays with you for the rest of your life, and you end up judging all your future relationships based upon that one undying memory.

from Note to Self, due out June 2012

Posted by Valentine at 12:00

If Only

If Only

The meadow was open and endless,
the sense of tranquility whispering a secret
each step cushioned by thick, lustrous strands of green velvet
so damp and sweet
wild flowers growing unevenly in between
as white clouds hang low slowly blending
and all that can be felt is the certainty that speaks

ever-so softly in my mind

I just know

I walk alone surrounded in this surreal splendor
trying to comprehend the balance that truly does exist
trying to fathom perfection and the reason why we are here
and how the planets stay aligned
never falling from the universe that’s as dark as pitch
revolving
evolving
complimenting each other
the plan was too perfect to be a coincidence

The sun is comforting as the wind gently brushes my skin
and the only sound that I can hear is sweet and barely audible
stillness I think it is,
or perhaps the contentment that I feel
I’ve known this feeling
I’ve felt it once before
yet I can’t recall its connected bliss

There before me I see forever
Gardenias’ parfume flood my senses
days of standing at the dunes staring at the faraway places
recalling the recesses of my mind
a life left behind

The constant rush of memories in black and white
like faded pictures dusty and lost
they erode my fortress and carry it off into the sea
to the bottom
only to be conjured another time

Butterflies flutter past me
their parchment-like wings carry their metamorphic frames
and in slow motion I witness their angelic flight
just like the planets, they stay perfectly balanced in the stillness
while I walk past old tombstones chipped and white
weather beaten from centuries gone by
and I still can’t help but to wonder why

I reflect

I remember that I once walked this very field

Yes

The planets stay up in the heavens and never fall

they remain constant

as do I

FREE WILL IS GONNA COSTYA

I was wondering how I was going to broach this topic. When it comes to God and the law of attraction, and free will, people get confused and leery as to whether they should contemplate the existence of these ideas. They even fear being blasphemous—that entertaining the idea of the law of attraction goes against God.

Having said that: if this subject rubs you the wrong way, then please feel free to exit from this blog. If this subject causes you stress, then please feel free to exit from this blog. And lastly. If talking about God brings up the need to debate His existence, or lack thereof, please exit from this blog. For the record, I will not debate God’s existence. I will not debate religion. And I will not debate my beliefs. So, if you’re a debater, you’re in the wrong place. This is a place for exploration and deep reflection. This is a place where hopefully, you’ll find some answers. This is a place that’s deep within my being— located in a non-linear plane whichs knows no space or time, nor bars or walls. This place is my mind. So you’re either willing to listen or free to go. It’s all good.

Moving on . . .

If you’ve read my previous articles, then you know I’m an advocate for the law of attraction. I’ve been studying the mind for more than half my life. Does that make me an expert? It does . . . in my world. But I don’t want to come off as a snooty know-it-all. Becoming an expert in any field is based on one’s willingness and perception TO know it all. Everyone is a know-it-all when it comes to their own life. Indeed they are. No person can tell you more about you then you. When it comes to you, you are an expert; hence, so is everyone else, including me. The only difference that may exist between you and me is that I go to tremendous lengths to find answers, and I don’t stop until I get them. Which is something that benefits anyone who’ll listen. Again, I’m not tooting my horn. I’m just stating a fact.

Hundreds of geniuses have written articles concerning their experiences with God and the spirit world. They’ve documented their findings in an effort to help man achieve his purpose—in order for him to reach his spiritual evolution. These masters, dating back thousands’ of years, before Jesus and even before Buddha, knew about God and man’s direct connection to Him. They’ve transcended their earthly ego in order to find God. They knew about the law of God, which simply put is: we are made in His image, and included in that image is his ability to create. (I’m stating a line from Master of the Realm–a true story I wrote of how I connected with the spirit world.)

After going through my own spiritual evolutional metamorphosis and coming to the conclusion that we are made in God’s image, including His ability to create, and then after having spirits lead me to study what I was told, only to find out that the greatest minds in the history of mankind said the very same thing, well, that was good enough for me. Of course, I just didn’t let it drop there. I’ve been talking to God every day of my life, asking a gazillion questions about Him, about me and Him, and about the laws which represent Him: such as the law of gravity; the law of cause and effect; the law of attraction; the law of abundance, and so forth. These laws aren’t some hokey-pokey nonsense created to pacify man’s reasoning. These laws aren’t some analogy to justify man’s iniquities. Heck, no! These laws ARE GOD, through and through; therefore, they must be studied and applied by us–those who are made in His image. So, it’s like this:

If God is everything—the universes, the planets, the beings on those planets, the animals, the skies, the oceans, the vegetation, the rock and clay, and all filament, AND if all these attributes are in  perfect harmony, each being what they are, doing what they’re supposed to be doing, existing with each other, moving with the flow, in perfect timing, in sync, then that means that God must be a part of them, or even perhaps, HE is them.

AND

If He is them, then that means that He is us and we are Him; each given the ability to create anything we want. It’s not blasphemous to state: I AM GOD. We are God, here on earth, in the physical. And as God, we have what’s called free will. You know this. You know you can pick and dismiss anything in your life. That’s free will. So, if we can pick and dismiss all things in our existence, and if we are made in God’s image, that must mean that God is free will.

So . . .

If God is free will, and we are made in God’s image, that means that we can create whatever we want. That means that we can pick and dismiss what we want. That means that we can be what we want. If God is free will then that means He will not stop you from creating what you want because YOU are made in His image and given the freedom to create whatever it is that YOU want to create. And if you know about the law of attraction—ENERGY VIBRATION SEEKS ITS LIKENESS OR EQUIVALENT, then you understand that . . .

The law of attraction exists, and it does. And if we are the creators of our worlds, which we are, and if we’re made in God’s image, which we are, and if free will is a part of it is, then that means: GOD WILL NOT STOP CATASTROPHES, which you’ve created. HE WILL NOT STOP POVERTY, which you subconsciously created. HE WILL NOT STOP PAIN AND HEARTACHE, which you created by picking and choosing your desires and battles. DO YOU GET ME?

God has given YOU free will. He won’t interfere . . . UNLESS YOU CHOOSE HIM.

What if . . .

God goes either way? What if He’s here–deep within us, but stays away if we don’t ask for help? If He’s free will, then He’s waiting to be called upon. He’s waiting for us to pick and choose all good things. He’s the law of attraction, who will not stop what you’re subconsciously searching for. So, why are you attracting such catastrophies and heartache? It’s your thinking and core beliefs. Combine it with free will, and guess what? God is not to blame. YOU are to blame.

People want to know why the world is so wrong–why their lives are messed-up, and why God has forsaken them. I’m here to tell you that God is divine and pure love, and if you’re not looking for Him, if you’re not seeking love, if you’re not practicing picking and choosing love, then free will is gonna costya.

I have ideas. I have insight. I ask questions. I seek answers. I want more. I want to rise above life’s chaos and bullshit and live the best life I can. The big question is . . . do you?

Learn about the law of attraction. Learn about your mind and it’s power. Learn what you are. What else is possible should become your mantra.

Valentine

MY BIG FAT Note to Self . . .

Life sure has its ways of messing with our heads, doesn’t it? One minute everything is going great–according to plan, and the next minute, it’s spiraling out of control. Somehow, things got screwed up. We’ve got problems with work, with friends, with our family . . . and let’s not forget money. What is it about life that leads us up and down that crazy path of uncertainty?

For most people, when life gets crazy and fills our heads with fears and negativity, we panic. We think back to what we could have done wrong, and we look for that negative “thing” that caused us all this grief. But I’m here to tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t say anything that shouldn’t have been said. You didn’t react any other way than how you should have reacted. In other words, EVERYTHING you did, whether you think it was negative or not, was what you were supposed to do at that moment in time.

Now, I know what I’ve just said must sound totally insane and illogical, but I promise you, it’s not. Every little part of your life, every intricate detail of your being, every single speck of thought that you have, you have for a purpose, AND IT’S YOUR PURPOSE, AND RESPONSIBILITY, TO UNDERSTAND this very fact so that you could learn what’s good for your spirit in order to achieve total enlightenment.

So what exactly does this mean? It means that from the time you enter the physical world, until the time you exit the physical world, the ups and downs, the slings and arrows, were all a part of the lessons which your soul arranged prior to your birth. Yes, your soul arranged for these ups and downs to happen. If you can believe that you’ve planned out your life’s journey before you came into the physical world, and if you can let yourself play with the idea that perhaps your life, with all its struggles, was your own idea and choice, then you’re on your way to living the life you’ve always wanted. But how does this help you achieve the life you’ve always dreamed of having? It’s quite simple. YOU ARE NOT AT ANYONE’S MERCY.

It sounds almost contradictory if you think about it, but let me take this a step further to clarify what I mean. We plan our charted course before we come to the physical world, and the reason is so that we can feel ourselves; to actualize our desires and watch them manifest into tangible by-products of our imaginations: in other words, we come to the physical world to create, and to express that which we can’t in the spiritual realm. BUT, and here’s where it gets a little tricky–we, as creations of God, have free will, and having free will means that we can pick battles, dismiss our battles, or create new battles. We plan it all out before we’re born, but once we enter the physical world, we’re at the mercy of our surroundings up until the age of seven. All the information of who we really are is lost once we’re exposed to others’ thoughts and beliefs–and when I say others’, I’m referring to our parents.

Once we’re born, we aren’t able to negate the thoughts and beliefs of others. We aren’t physically and mentally equipped to do so. Everything we hear and see and feel is absorbed and set deep into our subconscious minds. Now here’s where free will comes in. Once we reach adulthood, it’s our purpose to find ourselves. It’s our purpose to deliberately seek answers. Yes, our paths have been set, but it’s up to us to figure it out; to reach deep within when the going gets rough, and to find out what our purpose is. It’s up to us to make the decision if we want to be at the mercy of others’ or if we want to take our lives into our own hands and ask God to guide us back to our charted paths.

So, where do thoughts come in to play? When we’re little, our thoughts are arranged by how we perceive life, and how we perceive life, all depends on what our parents have taught us. These thoughts, which we then expand on, is where free will takes over. We are not at the mercy of our thoughts. We can change them at any time. We are creators who use thoughts to create. It’s up to us to learn the facts of who we really are so that we can pick and choose our thoughts in order to create the life we want– in order to make our journeys the best we can make them.

It’s all about free will and learning that you are the ultimate creator who is NOT at anyone’s mercy. You have the choice of believing what you want. You have the choice of dismissing what others tell you. Belief is in the eye of the beholder, and what you believe is all that matters. Everyone’s thoughts and beliefs are different and you don’t have to believe anything that goes against you. If the thought feels good then just know it’s an absolute truth that resonates with your soul. And if the thought doesn’t feel good, then just know that it’s a lie and goes against your soul. Just follow what feels good to you, and you’ll be on track. DON’T LISTEN TO OTHERS!!!!!!! You are your own person with your own spirit and soul.

This is information that you may not want to believe or accept. But I’m telling you that if you will at least be open to learning more, you will absolutely take control of your life. You have choices. You always did and you always will.

Listen, life is nuts, but there’s hope. God is good. WE ARE NOT AT ANYONE’S MERCY.  We have thoughts, and we have the power to think what we want and to dismiss what we want. Be a leader. Listen to your gut.

DOES MY PICTURE OF GOD LOOK LIKE THE SHROUD OF TURIN?

 UPDATE!

A FRIEND FROM SOUTH AFRICA EMAILED ME TO SAY THAT THIS PICTURE LOOKS IDENTICAL TO THE SHROUD OF TURIN. AFTER CHECKING IT OUT, I AGREE. I COULDN’T GET THE PIC OF THE SHROUD INTO THIS BLOG, BUT YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT ON WIKI.

LOOK TO THE RIGHT OF THE MOON ON BOTH PICTURES AND NOTICE THAT THE FACE DOESN’T CHANGE AS THE CLOUDS SHIFT

It was 4 a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. It was another night when I woke with ideas and thoughts rushing through my mind. I got out of the bed and walked to the front of the house and looked out the window.

There it was– an amazing full moon. It seemed to be calling me. I stared at it and marveled at its illumination, charmed by its allure– mystified by something so fantastic. Seconds later, I had on my coat and I was outside taking pictures.

I’ve captured many supernatural phenomenon on film since my connection to the other side, but this is just downright shocking.

Look to the right of the moon. Tell me, what do you see ?

What Is Man?

. . . man is an extension of Divine Source; created in His image. But upon man’s physical efforts to become his own God, he ended up indulging his ego to the point of self-destruction.

Man’s obsessed with money and power; he’s relentless to be number one. He’s yet to understand the reason he is born. He doesn’t know that he’s born to create, to form new desires, to pick and choose his battles, all which would enhance his experiences and heighten his consciousness as a whole. He doesn’t understand that the body isn’t supposed to get sick, and that if it should get sick, it’s only because he let negativity into his mindset. Every thought has two sides, whereby, giving him the choice to pick from a negative standpoint or a positive standpoint. Yes, sickness and depression are choices that man makes, and he uses these negative choices to suit an underlying purpose.

Apart from the physicality that you know, you are a being who uses thoughts as your way to create, and it is through your thoughts that every detail of your life, including your desires, are created—the good and the bad.  Yes, all the horrific details of your life were chosen by you before you were born. You may be thinking that you would never choose to be sick or to have sick children, or to be poor or homeless. But the truth is that you decide these paths before you are born and you do it to learn. And this includes your children, as well. You may think that you created your children, and in your terms, you do; but here’s the kicker: they choose their parents and their lifes’ paths before they’re born—the same way you picked your situations before you were born. It’s all for one universal reason: each of you wants to understand every element of God—the good and the opposite of good. You planned your charted course for your earthly experience, knowing that when you were born, you could change it if you chose to. You knew you had that power. You knew that you had the ability. You knew that you had and will always have free will to change all of it. You knew that by choosing the correct thoughts that you could rise above sickness and poverty, but you lost sight of this information when you came into the physical.

You need to learn this concept. Your choices are your responsibility. You must stop choosing instant gratification. You must stop kneeling to the throne of greed. Know that every choice you make will have a significant consequence. Your negativity is like acid, and by continually thinking ideas which oppose goodness and love, you are perpetuating the deterioration of mankind. I’ve labeled it the Collective Interactive Phenomena; there are other names for it, but it all breaks down to this: since man’s thoughts are pure energy, they will attract energy of its likeness. On his own, it may take time for man to manifest what he’s thinking, but en masse, it’s the opposite. If millions of people are thinking the same thought then the thought gains power and manifests at an incredible speed. An example of this is the weather. Millions of negative thinkers are waiting for the hurricane season. They think of it, wonder when it will arrive, and then they prepare for it. By these people anticipating and thinking about the hurricane season, and holding that thought for days, what will happen is that a hurricane will form. I know you may not believe this or even understand it, but nonetheless it’s true, and it’s happening every day, all over the world. People, as a collective consciousness, are destroying the planet, but more important, they’re destroying themselves.

The key to life

. . . is within man’s reach. Every man has a choice to think what he wants and to do what he wants. But I’m here to tell you that if you choose to think negatively, and if you choose to compromise God for gain, you will bring about your own death sentence. Every man will find out that he must deliberately choose love. He must continue to create through positive thinking; because it’s man’s thoughts that form new realities, which aids in the continuum of expanding space. If man chooses negative thinking, he will destroy himself and his entire race.

What Do You Do When Love Don’t Love You

What I’m about to tell you is a true story. It’s something that I believe deserves mentioning. It’s a situation that so many of us face everyday, yet we somehow blow if off and tell ourselves that it’s not true. I was 23 years old when this happened. I was young, vulnerable, and a soul who needed to feel loved. It was also a very confusing time for me, as I had only been married one year and wondered if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. You see, my ex-husband was a big-time player back then, and he didn’t want the responsibility of being tied-down. He thought that he could come and go as he pleased, despite my efforts in trying to keep him at bay.

Well one day, I received a phone call from a friend who happened to mention that a group of mutual friends, from the bar where we hung out, were going to Atlantic City that afternoon. The plan was for everyone to meet up at the bar at 4:00 in the afternoon to take a chartered bus. As she continued talking, my mind was playing back the conversation I had with my husband before I had left the house for work that morning. He had told me that he had to do something for his father, and it would take him most of the night. I didn’t think to question him so I let the conversation drop from my mind and headed out the door. But as my friend continued to talk, I began to suspect that I had been lied to and that he would be joining the group who were going out that night.
When I hung up the  phone, I found that my instincts couldn’t be ignored, and I did what I felt was necessary to catch him: I left work early.

He had no idea that I was on my way home, so when I got there, I quickly changed my clothes, grabbed my car keys, and headed over to the local pub. As I was driving, my heart was pounding through my chest. I was so determined to catch him that I was weaving in and out of traffic–I even went through red lights. As I approached the block of the bar, I could see in the distance the silver bus parked in front, and next to it, the large crowd waiting to board. I knew this was going to be it.  I was going to catch him.

I pulled my car over and quickly jumped out; and as I ran towards the group I could plainly see my husband chatting away with one of the girls. The line was moving quickly onto the bus, and he and the girl were almost near the door when I yelled out to him.

“Don’t even try it!”

He spun around, and upon noticing me, displayed a dropped jaw and bulging eyes. He was cold-busted.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I yelled.

He stepped off the line and walked towards me. “What?” he said, playing dumb.

“You heard me. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to hang out for a while,” he stammered.

I was now in front of his face. “You said you were helping your father tonight. So you lied?”

He turned to look at the line getting onto the bus and then turned to look at me. “I didn’t lie. My father said that he didn’t need any help, so I figured I would go with my friends. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal?” I shrieked.

He didn’t answer me. He just kept turning to look at his friends, who were heckling him.

“You must really wanna get on that bus? Don’t ya?” I said.

He rolled his eyes.

Right there I had my answer. He wanted to be with his friends, and had planned on being on the bus and long gone before I got home from work. It was like–play now, deal with it later. The betrayal was almost crushing. To think that my husband was lying right to my face and didn’t even care that I was hurt. I turned around and began walking back to my car.

“So you’re mad?” he called out.

I stopped walking to look back to him.

“You get on that bus, and I’m calling a lawyer.” 

I started to walk away.

He took a step toward me. “Oh, great. Okay, fine. I won’t go. Bitch.” 

I just kept walking.

“What? No snappy comeback?” he called out.

I wouldn’t turn around. I opened my car door and got in. As I put my key in the ignition, I looked into my rearview mirror. He was getting into his car which was parked on the corner behind me. For some reason, I had a feeling that he wasn’t going home so I did what any girl would do.  

 As he pulled out of his spot, I pulled out of mine and banged a U-turn. He went down one street, I went down the street which was parallel and cut him off. We met up on the adjoining avenue. When he saw me, he stepped on the gas and made a hard left down the next street. Oh yeah, I yelled out loud. Can’t lose me!

And as the chase continued, him trying to get away from me and me cutting him off at every turn, it suddenly occurred to me that I was running after someone who didn’t want to be caught. I was trying to catch up to someone who didn’t want me around. The revelation was mind-blowing. It was huge! I was married to someone who I loved, but who didn’t love me back. As this truth unfolded, I began to feel stupid. I felt the harshness of the realization creep into my stomach and into my head. Suddenly I felt like I didn’t belong–didn’t fit in–wasn’t wanted– and that perhaps I never was wanted. I pulled my car over to the nearest empty spot and turned it off, and just stared out the window. The only thing I could hear was the bare whisper of my own stupidity leaving my lips, Val, he doesn’t want you. Stop chasing him.

I must have sat there for fifteen minutes before I could even move. The truth was hardcore. It was devastating, but most of all, it was real. I turned on the ignition and pulled out of the spot and went home.

Sometimes the truth is the most terrifying of fears that we must face. It can break our spirits. It can be so painful. It can make us curl into fetal positions wishing we had never been born. It was that day when I learned that you can’t make someone love you when they just don’t.
Looking back, I can say that my ex-husband didn’t love me. And maybe it was all for the best. Life has a way of delivering the truth. But it’s up to us to recognize it, and to face it–to learn from it and to move on. When someone doesn’t love you, they just don’t, and nothing you could do can change it.

DO YOU WALK THE WALK ?

So many times, after I’ve posted a blog, a friend will email me to tell me that my blog pertained to them. I’ve received countless comments saying that somehow, someway, I just knew what a person was going through at that particular time; how did I know it? I can’t answer that question. I can only believe that I had to write what I did for a reason. I can wake up and have numerous ideas, yet when I sit down to write, it’s as though my fingers have a mind and will of their own. So why do I write what I write?

Here’s something that came on me strong in the middle of the night. I believe it’s something that so many of you need to hear today.When I was growing up, I always doodled. You know, scribble stuff on a pad or notebook; write and draw anything that popped up in my head—even if it didn’t make sense. In school, whenever we had to write a composition, a paper, or story, I’d always get an A. My paper was the paper that always got read in front of the class. I was the leader in the writing arena, yet I didn’t understand why. I wrote like everyone else, so what made my words stand out from the others?
As I continued through the schooling process, my writing grew stronger—I knew it did. But whenever I showed my mother what I had written, she’d laugh and say that it was corney—in other words, ridiculous. Well years of hearing that my writing wasn’t up to the Ernest Hemingway standards had made me not want to write. I was embarrassed and felt quite unworthy. Yet in spite of what my mother said, I continued to get A’s in every single paper that I had written. And this continued on through college, where there too, my papers were the ones to get singled out and read in front of a room full of adults. So why didn’t I follow the path of becoming a writer at an early age? In a simple answer … the fear of being a failure.
If I can count how many times I stopped myself from doing something that I knew in my gut I was supposed to do, I’d be counting in the millions. Throughout my entire life I knew that I was meant to do something big—something that would be recognized by others—something that would make a difference to the people around me. This feeling was so strong that I was afraid to feel it. Whenever this feeling popped up, I would get so nervous that I would quickly think of something else to distract myself from dealing with it. Years of pushing down the truth and burying it, finally took its toll. I felt unfulfilled and empty. I felt as though life didn’t have a purpose and that there wasn’t a point in living if it meant living a meaningless existence. Then my miracle happened. I got sick, and I became desperate to get well. And in my quest for finding the truth, I found it. I found my purpose. I received my answer. It was in front of me all along, only I was afraid to know it. I was a writer. And my purpose was to write! My purpose was to help! And this purpose could no longer be held down. You see, for all the years that I hovered in my make believe prison cell, I let my dream and my purpose stay buried. I let myself die a very slow death all because I was afraid to fail. Can you imagine? I was afraid to fail! Once God put me on track to find my purpose, there was no holding me back. The fear was there, but I made the decision to walk through it. I took the time to learn about me,  and that without taking my chances in this one life that I was given, what’s the point in being here? Because honestly, there isn’t a point in being here if you’re not doing what you are supposed to be doing.

Look at all of your famous artists, scientists, athletes,  and doctors … they all failed in the beginning. None of them made it to the top right away. What is the secret that made them the epitome of success that we regular folks don’t know? You want the answer? It’s that they didn’t give up! They went after their dream. They didn’t let failing stop them. They forged ahead with their brilliant plans and lived it! They accepted the challenge and worked through it. They worked through the ridicule and the setbacks. They focused on the neon-signs that blinked success. They let nothing stand in the way of what their gut told them had to be done. And through all of their countless and futile efforts to find their niche, they stumbled, fell hard, yet they got back up and tried again. Man! They followed their dream to wherever it was going to take them. They fell and got cut up, but they dusted themselves off, slapped on a band-aid, and tried again. And they made it! They became stars. They became contributors to this world. They became what they were meant to be. And all they did, and what separates them from us, was not give up!

We can live the impossible dream.  We all have a dream that can be fulfilled. Step out of your comfort zone.  Life goes very quickly, and before you know it, we are up to our necks in regrets. Go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? You’re not a failure if you fall. You’re only a failure if you never try.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Get The Hell Out Of My Head, Damn It !

I can’t sleep. I’ll turn to my right side. There. I’m still thinking. Stop thinking,Val. I’ll turn to my left. It’s still here. Stop it. Stop it. Okay. I can do this. Lay still. I won’t think if I lay still. Okay. This is good. This is working. I’m doing great. Crap. There’s a tiny crack in the ceiling. I hope it doesn’t get any bigger. I’ll go to Home Depot tomorrow and buy something to patch it. Home Depot. I don’t have a home of my own anymore. I had a gorgeous home until it happened. How could they? Look what happened. They took it away, those freakin’ liars! It’s mine not yours. Who the hell died and left you in charge? Screw you both. I hate you! I have to toss. I’m pissed. Who the hell do they think they are? I’ll fix them. My eyes are opened. Gee, the wind is blowing outside. I used to love that song. And windy has stormy eyes and dum deedee dum, dum, dum. What are the freakin’ words? What time is it? Let me look. It’s 3 am. Shit! I have to wash my hair in the morning. I’ll use the melon shampoo this time. I wonder if the cantelope is ripe? Oh, no. I’m out of conditioner. I’ll look like a Q-tip. The red tee shirt will go good with my jeans. Partay, Marvin Gaye. I’m doing it again. Stop it! Damn it! I’m still thinking. Get the hell out of my head already. Val, let it go. It happened 4 years ago. Let it go. I can’t do this. I’m getting up. I have to get out of this bed.

How many times has this happened to you? You have a thought and it totally takes over your life. You think it over and over. It occupies you while you work. It occupies you while you drive. It occupies you so much that you are actually reliving something that has happened days ago, weeks ago, or perhaps even years ago. It eats you up slowly. It’s there when you wake up. It’s there and it won’t ever leave you. Never. You’re doomed. It’s over. Your life is over. You’re a failure. You’re a loser. I’m fat. I’m no good. Look at me. Who will love me? No wonder he left me. She’s gorgeous. I’m hideous. I’m nothing. I’ll never be anything. My life is over. I’ll die this way.
Sound familiar?Our thoughts are like a reactive bomb.

Thought ——–>repeat thought ———>same thought ——->belief ———>now etched in stone.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve had these messed up repeated thoughts that consume your life and put you into a horrible state of stagnation. Maybe you’re obsessing about your spouse who has left you for someone else. Maybe your partner is cheating on you and you’ve found out and now you can’t get over it. Maybe a person at your job is causing you grief everyday and you keep rehashing the same scenerio over and over and over, each time with a different outcome. Maybe you despise yourself and keep saying how fat and ugly you are. Doe it matter what you’re saying? Yes it does. Can you stop the vicious cycle of habitual thoughts? Yes you can. Is it difficult? No, it’s not, but it takes some work and commitment. You can do this.

I’m going to be posting a blog on Oprah.com about our thoughts. I would love for you to come by and give me your thoughts. Maybe you have ideas that you can share. For now, you can post here. When I get the blog posted on Oprah.com, I will let you know.

Sharing your ideas is the only tool for helping others. We are here to help each other. Why can’t anyone get this? If you want your life to change, change it. Change it by helping others. Be their source of comfort. We are all the same, and if you have a good idea that helped you, perhaps it can help someone else.

 

 

 

 

  

 

Thoughts. A terrible thing to waste.

Blog Browsing Friday

This is a rerun–Please take a read while I write this week’s blog. OR just come back during the week. Catch-up with you later

 

I thought that today, Friday October 24, 2008, I would take time and read some other people’s blogs–you know, to see what’s happening and to see how they write. Hey, I’m a writer, and this is what I do. I’ve read some awesome viewpoints, and I’ve read some poorly written blogs that had great ideas and content, but were grammatical bombs.

Here’s one person’s blog which I found very note worthy, and if you have the chance, you should read it. I’m going to put the link right here where your iddy, biddy finger can just tap the mouse. This blog is written by Susan Loone. Check it out. Police arrest 6 year old

Also, a note worthy read is an article by James Pinkerton–yes, another Obama masterpiece. Talk about the existence of the devil. Wow! Check it out here FOX WORTHY READ

So I’m off now to scout more good reads. In the meantime, if you have a blog worth reading, hook me up. Hugs!

Valentine

Friday’s Blog Browsing and Other Noteable Stuff

So good morning my lovelies. Yes, today is October 31, 2008, or also known as Halloween.  This isn’t going to be about Halloween, so don’t get crazy and roll your eyes. In fact, this isn’t going to be another blog about Hollywood gossip or about McCain and Palin and Obama. Heck, I think the internet and the media have overkilled the crap out of that. Even SNL, which by the way is absolutely hysterical with Tina Faye playing Sarah, will not get mentioned. And 30Rock . . . which is just about the funniest show on national television, won’t get mentioned, either. No, today’s column is about plain ole stuff. Real stuff. Everyday in your life, stuff. So on with the stuff.

I would like to kick off this column with something that may gross you out, but I believe it deserves an honorable mention — and then I won’t bring it up again . . . what’s with the nose picking? I’ve mentioned this before and swore that I wouldn’t mention it again, but I can’t resist. I’ve seen more people picking their noses in the last week than I have in my life. And what gets me is that they think they aren’t being watched. What kind of enjoyment are these people getting? Can someone please write me here on this column and explain this.  And I won’t mention this again. Okay. Moving on.

So I’ve been talking to some friends who say that this is going to be a really cold winter here in New York. And I’m thinking that I cannot do another really cold winter. I simply cannot do another snowy, wet, gray winter. Know what I mean? I need warm and soothing, with blue skies and white, fluffy clouds rolling by–with the green ocean waves swirling around my ankles. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Oh, sorry. Got carried away. So what does a person do when they can’t afford to pack it all up and move to the west coast or a tropical island? You go and get a portable heater, a DVD about the Caribbean, one bottle of Jack Daniels–with a tiny red umbrella, and a CD of visualization exercises. Okay. Moving forward.

Mimi, a really good friend of mine, is having boyfriend troubles. She was in his apartment the other night, waiting for him to come out of the shower, when his cell phone went off. Of course, she did what any normal, intelligent chick would do–she picked it up. Turns out that the caller was another woman, but not just any other woman, his ex-girlfriend. She listened to make sure that he was still actively engaged in his shower and then played the message. It wasn’t good. The ex wanted to know if she could meet up with him at a different time for their date on the following night. Uttt ohhh. Stay tuned for this.

I have two friends who live in Florida who are roomies. One friend called me the other day to complain that the other friend is driving her crazy with her non-stop chattering. This friend talks when she gets up, while she’s eating, while she’s dumping, and even while she’s sleeping. What is a roomie supposed to do?

And guys . . . whatever you do, don’t lie to your boss. Once, twice, three times, and the ad goes into the Sunday newspaper to replace you–behind your back. And if you have a secret, keep it a secret. The fastest way to get your business around the work place is to tell a friend.

Oh, and here are a couple of groovy blogs to check out. Click here for Margaret and Helen, and Click Here for Who is Joe the Plumber?

So have a great Friday people and remember this: If you think someone is talking about you, they are.

Valentine

Fridays blogs and Christmas ?

I’m sitting here in sweat pants and a sweat shirt, sweating my bunns off. It’s almost 65 degrees here in Staten Island, New York, and I’m thinking this is so weird. Outside, my neighbors’ homes are fully adorned in Christmas lights and Santas. I mean really! It was only Halloween one week ago. Aren’t we skipping a holiday somewhere–like T h a n k s g i v i n g? Helloooo? We are going way too fast, folks! I am not ready for Christmas, people. I am not even ready for Thanksgiving. Heck, I’m still recovering from Labor Day. Is there a reason why we are rushing into all of this? Is Christmas going to disintergrate into space, never to be celebrated again?
I don’t want to think about Christmas in the beginning of November, and I don’t want to hum Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, and I don’t want to deal with going into the mall to conquer crowds of moms toting their screaming kids. I don’t want to! Does that make me a scrooge? Can’t a girl bask in the warm weather and ponder the days of summer, just for a little while?

Okay. So I used to own an Acura. I loved that car. It was luxurious, smooth, but most of all, soundproof. Acura makes a nice car, but alas, after ten years it went bye-bye, and I had to get a new car. Taking into consideration that I don’t have a garage to store an expensive luxury car, and taking into consideration that a luxury car gets less miles to the gallon, I decided that for my money, I would get a car that gets great gas mileage and one that I wouldn’t have to worry about–so I got a 2009 Toyota Corolla.
This little car has just about every feature that a fancy-smancy car has, except for one minor detail. Well, it’s not exactly a minor detail. OK! It’s a big detail. It’s made like doodoo. Don’t take this wrong. It’s a great car to drive. It drives fantastically, gets 34.5 miles to the gallon, has all the cool features of an expensive car, but it’s made of plastic–from bumper to bumper. What this means is that you kind of hear more shakin’, rattlin’, and rollin’ then you would normally hear in your leading luxury car. Which leads me to this little diddy.

*deep breath*  Yesterday, I was out driving, and I kept hearing a little thumping on the right side. It was driving me nuts, so in the rain, I took every single thing, including my jack, out of the trunk. The noise was still there. From there, I opened the hood and checked to make sure that the engine hadn’t fallen out–and it didn’t. My only choice was to go to the dealer, so I called.

“Come on down, we can take you right now,” the service writer says.

“Cool,” I say back, and I go.

Thirty minutes later, I pull into the service department, and they give me a ticket. “The service writer will be with you in a minute,” the guys says.

“Cool,” I say.

Ten minutes later, I hear, “G165,” being called out. I look at my ticket and yell, “Bingo!”

The writer smiles. “I get that every time,” he boasts.

So I walk into his office and sit down, and explain to him what I am hearing. He writes me up and gives the repair order to the next mechanic, who 15 minutes later comes over to me and says, “I don’t hear a thing. Take a ride with me.”

We get into the car and drive up and down quiet streets. I have my head cocked to the extreme right of the passenger side, saying “There it is again. You hear it, you hear it?”

He gives me a shifty glare. “No, I can’t hear it,” he says.

Finally, after driving around for ten minutes, we go back to the dealership, where he tells me that if it gets worse to come back. Ah, hello?

I proceed to the cashier where I am handed a bill which says $94.00 for labor. At the bottom it says $0.00. Of course, I don’t have to pay for anything as the car is only two months old, but I questioned the labor charge. After all, I found it to be more than expensive, especially since the mechanic only had the car for under a half an hour. The cashier cracks her gum and giggles, and then says, “I don’t know. I only work here.”
I turned my head and rolled my eyes, thinking . . . of course you do.

So my lovelies, I am giving all of you some advice. Don’t rush time, take a deep pause before you react, and get a really good headset that blocks out noise.

Oh, and check out these really good blogs. Blamin’ Palin by Fox News and this weeks Margaret and Helen’s blowing off steam

Seeya next time.

Valentine

Fridays and Why Do Straight Chicks Act Gay

Somebody wake me, please! With the world in total chaos and our economy in a mess, wouldn’t it make sense if we, as a nation, would stop and take stock at what is happening to our society? Let’s be honest. This society is out of control. It lacks morals and integrity. We’ve become a nation gone wild. Look at our young adults. Okay. Now this might get me a verbal ass whoopin’, but here I go. Since when did it become the norm for girls to act gay? Somebody tell me, please? There appears to be an epidemic of teenaged girls and young women who feel the need to kiss and feel each other up in clubs, parties, Spring break–any place where there is a camera. When did this become acceptable? Did I fall asleep in a field of poppies for a hundred years and miss a revolution or something? Seriously. If you’re gay, then you’re gay. Period. Who cares? But why pretend to be gay? Does it make you cool? Do you attract more guys by acting like lesbians? When did it become chic for young women to act like horney gay chicks in public?

Girls and ladies? A piece of advice. Be who you are, and stop trying to fit in. What I respect about all gays is that they are who they are. They aren’t pretending to BE what they aren’t. They stand tall, and they act proud. So all you straight chicks . . . if you want to follow the gays then follow their integrity and values. Don’t pretend to be what you’re not in order to get attention or to attract guys. Take pride. If you really need that much attention then grab an accordian, one monkey wearing a hat, and stroll up and down Broadway.

All righty then. Moving on. Telemarketers . . . good heavens, give me a break. Will ya? Has this happened to you? You get a call asking if you would like to subscribe to your local paper. You tell them that you are a subscriber. They tell you that they appreciate your business and then hang up. The next day, you receive another call from a telemarketer asking if you would like to subscribe to your local paper. You tell them in a nice way that you are a subscriber, and that someone called the day before, and would they please take your name off their mailing list. The following day, you get another call asking if you would like to subscribe to your local paper, and now you are about to explode! What the heck is wrong with these people? Listen up telemarketers. The next time you call, I’m going to talk in a thick Hindu accent and make you believe that you have dialed Citi Corp. So there! Which leads me to my next gripe. What is up with people leaving their dog poop in the street?

I don’t know about where you live, but here in New York, picking up after your dog is a law. So here I was, out for my morning speed walk, when I spotted this lady walking her Pug. The Pug was doing his thing right at the edge of the curb, unaware that he was committing a crime. The owner, who obviously isn’t smarter than the Pug or a fifth-grader, left the doodoo where it was. I was pissed. I was really pissed. Did I mention that I was pissed? What kind of person leaves their dog’s mess on a city street, knowing that it’s against the law and that someone will likely step in it? I tell ya, this world has gone to the dogs, damn it. And speaking of poop, here’s another little diddy that makes me squint . . . infomercials.

You know when you watch an infomercial and they say at the end, “Order yours now and we’ll double your order for the same price”? I’d like to know how they can afford to do that? For only 4 easy payments of $49.99, you can have two Magic Bullets, but you have to act fast. YOU HAVE TO CALL NOW. Holy torpedo! Two Magic Bullets for only 4 easy payments of $49.99? I better hurry and call before I lose out on that great offer. Geeze.

So remember. Your day can go a lot smoother if you . . .

1– Learn to speak Hindu
2– If you wear rubbers over your shoes
3– If you order a Magic Bullet right now!

Oh, and here is a great read and a good holiday gift ( shameless self promotion )

Master of the Realm. If you never believed in life after death, this just might change your mind.

Okay. That’s a wrap. Wake me when this is all over.

To order, just go to any major online store or Barnesandnoble or Amazon or Authorhouse my publisher or Valentinedefrancis

Fridays and Have people lost their ever-lovin’ minds ?

People. I gotta tell ya. If you’re anything like me, you’ll be able to relate to this little beaut. For the last few months, I’ve been apartment hunting. At first, I was going to relocate outwest to Boulder City, Nevada. The housing issue in Vegas and Boulder is frightening. Half of Vegas and Boulder are in foreclosure, which is good news for me. I can buy a 4 bedroom, 3 bathroom house for under $300,000. Now for some of you who live in other areas of the United States of confusion, this may appear to be staggering. But for this New Yorker, the price is just right. Here in New York, you can’t buy a gallon of milk for under $3.89, yet alone buy a house for $300,000. So Vegas seemed like a plan. Well, just when I was getting all warm and cozy with the idea of moving across the country, life happened, and I had to put my Vegas dream on hold; which meant that I had to stay in New York for a while longer.
Which led me to my apartment search . . . *deep sigh*

Okay. So I said to my boyfriend one morning, “If I can’t live in Vegas, then I want to live out in Long Island.”

He was on his way out the door to go to work. “Whatever you want. Make it happen,” he yelled back.

 

 

 Now ladies. When a guy gives you carte blanche to do whatever you feel like doing, you’re going to take full advantage of it, right? So I got on it. I started with Craigslist. I know, you don’t have to tell me.

The apartments that I clicked on had photos. Many of the ads stated that their apartments were gorgeous, roomy, light and airy, but more importantly, all-inclusive. What’s all-inclusive, you ask? All-inclusive means that the rent includes gas, electric, cable, and sometimes internet. Sounds too good to be true, right? You bet your damn bootie that it’s too good to be true. Because that all-inclusive one bedroom apartment for $1350 is in a basement. Yep. A basement. An underground coffin. A musty, moldy pit with no windows, where Neanderthals and their kids stomp above your head with no regard of the time or that you’re underneath them. What nerve! Have you ever heard of the expression “Another man’s garbage is another man’s treasure”? Well talk about garbage! These trashy apartments give that expression a whole new meaning.

How dare they say that the apartment is light and airy. How dare they say gorgeous. But what really gets my blood boiling is how dare they say all-inclusive. Do you want to know why these apartments are all-inclusive? Because the apartments are illegal, and the homeowners don’t want to go through the red tape and expense of making their one family home a legal two family home. Furthermore, to re-do the plumbing and electrical work would require plenty of labor and quite a bit of money. Why should they bother when they can rent it without telling Uncle Sammy? Hense, the high rent to cover the tenant’s usage of utilities. Do they think we are stupid? I will not give anyone $1350 for three tiny rooms in a basement of an illegal apartment. They can kiss my apartment-hunting New York ass.

And speaking of asses . . .

I was in Home Depot yesterday waiting for my paint to be mixed, when a guy came over to the paint department to buy supplies. I had my eye on him because, well, I had nothing better to do. I continued to watch him as he bent over to retrieve an item from the bottom shelf. And that’s when I saw it. It was gross. It was obscene, but worst of all, it was hairy.  And I couldn’t turn away. It was almost like watching a train wreck–awful, yet intriguing.

Guys, please. For the love of God. Will you pull your damn pants up before you bend over. No one wants to see your ass crack. Gee-sus.

People, have you lost your ever-lovin’ minds?

Okay, so here’s my tip of the day.

Sorry guys, but this is strictly for you. Either get clothes that fit you properly, lose some weight, pull your damn pants up to where they belong, or shave your ass.

And this is for everyone. Remember. Be careful what you’re looking for. You just may find it.

Okay. Gotta run. Seeya next time.

Fridays and Fios

Well, I did it. I finally found a new apartment and moved in over the last couple of days. It was grueling. It was stressful. But did I mention that it was smelly? Oh, I didn’t? Then let me mention it now. I had a smelly move. I shall elaborate. I had Verizon’s Fios Triple Play installed in my new place on Tuesday. The Verizon guy came on time and was very nice. He was courteous and helpful, and knew his stuff. But he was a tad smelly. Now don’t get all mad at me for saying this. He worked his butt off for hours, and I tipped him for his hard work, but that didn’t take away his smelliness. I mean seriously folks. I can only hold my breath for so long before I’m gonna pass out. He was so smelly that I had to open every window in my apartment, and may I remind you that it’s mucho frio here in New York. I was walking around wearing a hat and mittens. He didn’t seem to notice that I was geared up for a blizzard. In fact, when he went to show me how to use the remote with all its little gadgets, he never once mentioned that I looked a bit odd pressing the buttons with mittens on. Oh well. White Castle anyone?

So I told you about the guy in The Deppa? The one who exposed his ass crack while he was bending? Well wait till you hear this one. I was in my car trying to find a parking spot near my bank, when I saw a young man coming out of Sears and walking towards his car. He was wearing his jeans very low–down by his ass-cheeks, low. You know how they wear them, right? Well, he had those bad boys so low that when I noticed him, I was hoping that they would fall. Now don’t give me the tsk, tsk, shame on you Val speech. I know you feel the same way. But here’s the best part . . . they fell to his knees. Yep they did, and I almost crashed the Mentley–that’s my new word for my Toyota which I dreamily pretend is a mini Bentley–get it? Mini and Bentley = Mentley. Anyway, when I saw his pants fall to his knees, I almost lost control of the wheel. I screamed so loud that they heard me in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. Homie was in shock. He dropped what he was holding and looked around as he picked them up–probably hoping that nobody saw him, but helloooo? This was at the mall, people. On Black Friday, people. Do you think anyone saw him? hahahahahaha. Ohmygosh!

So did I tell you that my new landlords are I-talians? I didn’t? Gosh, what’s wrong with me lately? Yes. They are I-talians. And not just any I-talians. They are from the other side, I-talians. They have fruit trees in their back yard. Did you hear me? Fruit trees. In the city. Hello? They have fig trees, olive trees, peach trees, and something that I’ve never heard of. They grow all their own veggies, and they make their own wine. They are the cutest little couple you would want to meet, and I am lucky to know them.
Today, I rang their bell to tell them something, and I left with a cantaloupe. Can you believe that? They had gone to Costco and bought a sack of melons, and gave me one as a parting gift. Now that’s what I call being friendly. There’s just one little, itsy-bitsy thing. He’s a little hard of hearing. I said to him, thank you so much for the melon. And he responded, I no tinka da maila comma yet.

So Imma tella you-a somting. Imma tella you

1– if you wanna good-a fruita, you grow da fruita yourselfa.
2– if you canta tella the difference between the words-a melon and maila — getta hearing aida
3– whena you taka offa you shirta, and itta standa by itselfa, itta time to taka baththa. Okay? Okay.

So for now my lovelies. I bid you a big ciao and seeya next time.

Friday’s and Sneaking around and getting caught

Boy, oh boy. Have I got one for you. Okay, now try to follow me.

I moved into my apartment on December 1, and on December 7th, I received a gas bill. Can you believe that? How is that possible? Talk about not wasting any time. Well, it turns out that I was billed for two days of gas usage. I mean, really! Two whole days, people, and wait till you hear how much. It was $7.38! Well, I don’t have to tell you that National Grid was going to get an earful from me, because if you know me, you know that I don’t let anyone get away with anything. Are you with me so far? Okay, keep reading.

It all started about 7:13 am on Monday morning, December 8th. I had my gas bill in my hand, and I was ready to rumble. I dialed the number.

“National Grid, Mr. Tucker speaking. How can I help you?”

“Yes, good morning Mr. Tucker, I have a bill for 3 therms of gas usage, and I’ve only been living in my apartment for two days. I need you to clarify this please.”

“Okay, I’ll be happy to do that for you, ma’am.”

I cock my head. Did he just call me ma’am?

He comes back to the line a minute later. “Well, ma’am, it appears that your bill was an estimated bill, and that’s why it’s high.”

“Estimated based on what?” I snap back. “On what the previous tenant’s usage was last year?”

“Yes, ma’am. Their average bill last year for two months was $215.00.”

I was now tapping my fingers very firmly on the table. I’m going to scream if he calls me ma’am one more time.

“Well, you have to fix this, Mr. Tucker,” I said. “I won’t pay a bill based upon someone elses usage.”

“The only way to fix this is for you to go and read the meter, ma’am. Do you have access to the meter?”

I stare off into the air. “Well, umm, I’m not sure. Where is the meter?”

“I don’t know ma’am. It would either be in the basement of the owner’s house or outside. I can hold on while you look.”

I look out my window and rub off the frost. “Well, I’m not sure where it is, but I suppose that I can go outside and have a look around.”

“I can go with you,” he says. “Are you on a cordless?”

“I am. But what if I lose you?”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” he says in a comforting voice. “I have your number. I’ll just call you back.”

I head for the closet and reach for the first thing–my boyfriend’s blue and white hooded jacket. It’s down to my knees.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say into the phone.

“I’m with you ma’am. Take your time.”

I head out the door and into the freezing morning air. I look to the right of my door, and there they are. Meters! Wait. They’re the meters for the electric.

“Okay, I’m going to walk around to the back of the house. Stay with me.”

“I’m here,” he confirms.

I begin walking around the back of my landlord’s house. I’m looking up and around his patio. His vertical blinds are opened. Geeze, I hope he doesn’t see me, I tell myself. I pull my enormous hood over my head. I look like the grim reaper.

“Can you hear me?” I whisper into the phone.

“I hear you,” Mr. Tucker says.

I now see my landlord walking towards the glass doors, and I duck behind the car port. I hear him yell to his wife, “I tinka we hava teefa,” he yells. “Whereza my gunna?”

I could feel my eyes bulge from their sockets. Utt oh!

“Mr. Tucker, if you hear a dial tone, it means that I’m dead, okay?”

He laughs.

“Must be real cold by you, ma’am.”

Cold? Yeah, that’s it.

I wait for my landlord to go and get his gun, and when I see him heading out of the room, I make a run for it to the other side of the yard. I look around. No meter.

“Can you still hear me,” I whisper out of breath.

“Yep, I’m with you,” he says.

I continue skellin’ around when I hear my landlord’s wife through their upstairs window.

“I-a no seea nobody, Tony. Putta da gunna away.”

My landlord answers her. “He-a weara blue-a jacket. I no see his-a hair color,” he yells back at her.

I suddenly find myself thanking God that the landlord is a tad hard of hearing.

I am now looking up and down and notice that I am opposite the house next door. I’m standing outside their bathroom window. I pull my hood closer to my chest and crouch down to look near the basement windows. I hear my landlord.

“I-a tella you-a Maria, I tawt I saw a putty cat.”

Did he just say, I tawt I taw a putty cat?

“Ma’am, you still there?” Mr. Tucker calls out.

“Oh, yeah, I’m here. And I see meters. I have to get on my knees. Hold on.”

“Do they have the number 57684 on it?”

I carefully look. “Yes they do.”

“Okay, read me the numbers from the left to the righ.”

I’m reading him the numbers and as I’m doing so, I hear the man next door. He’s in the bathroom singing. “If you think I’m sexy, and you want my body . . .”

My landlord is yelling to his wife. “I-a heara dem damma birds screaming againa,” he says to her.

She answers him. “Okay. I call Valentina to tella her to keepa her doora closeda.”

I get off the ground and tip-toe towards the patio. My call waiting rings.

“Tucker, can you hold on? I have a call.”

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

“Hello?”

“Ello, Valentina, ittsa Maria. You-a locka your doora. Tony tawta he saw-a teefa widda a purple cappa on his-a heada.”

I smile.

“Okay Maria. I’ll lock the door.”

I continue to tip-toe around the back of the house, and I sneak up to the glass doors. Tony is standing there with a rifle and binoculars.

Maria is yelling to him. “Tony, you no usa datta gunna. You-a gonna killa someone.”

“No, Maria. Da maila no comma yet,” he yells back.

I watch as he turns his head, and then I make a run for it. I get into my apartment and pretend that nothing happened.

“Ma’am?” Tucker says.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“With the correct meter reading, your bill for the two days is $1.60. Does that sound better?”

“Now that’s sounds a whole lot better, Mr. Tucker,” I reply.

So, what’s the moral to this story? I don’t know, but did I mention that the man next door saw me skellin’ around and thought that I was trying to get a peek at him? Oh, pla-eezzze. Yeah. I saw him later that day, and he came over to me.

“Wasn’t it a bit cold out there this morning?” he asked with a wink.

“Ummm, you saw me?”

“I did, but let’s keep it just between us. And for the future, I’m in the shower every day at that time.”

Only me.

So here’s my advice for today.

1–if you have to find your meter, just ring your landlord’s bell
2–if you tink you taw a putty cat, it was really a man in a purple cap
3–if your neighbor tells you what time he bathes, just tell him you’re a cop

Until next time–OAO

Friday’s and Trini Almost Got Us Arrested

You haven’t really lived until you’ve experienced a shopping trip with Trini. What started out as a quiet day planned by myself, turned out to be a day of havoc and craziness.

I heard the phone ringing but wasn’t sure if it was the Good Humor Man or my alarm clock; neither exist in my waking life. As I struggled into consciousness, I looked at the time on my TV–it was 5 am.

Who the hell is this, I hear myself ask. I quickly grab the phone, almost afraid that I would hear that someone just passed away.

‘Hello?’ I say cautiously.

‘Vallie, woman, did I wake you?’

‘Trini, that you?’

‘Do you know anoda Trini?’ she says.

‘Trini, it’s 5 o’clock. You better have a good reason for waking me,’ I snap.

‘Vallie, girl. I have to go to the mall,’ she says.

‘And you felt the need to call me at 5 am to tell me this?’

Trini’s laugh makes the phone vibrate.

‘Oh, Vallie, you so funny. I need you girl.’

I now am fully awake and sitting up. ‘Need me for what?’ I fearfully ask.

‘Girl, I saw me some sheets and a blendarrr,’ she says.

‘And you need me for what? To make you a smoothie?’

She laughs. ‘Vallie, I need you for support. You can’t let Trini spend all her money,’ she says.

The boyfriend is now awake.

‘Is that who I think it is at 5 in the morning?’ he whispers groggily.

I cover the receiver and answer him. ‘Yes,’ I whisper.

‘Okay, Trin. What time do you want to venture out?’

‘Right now girl. Get your butt up woman,’ she says loudly.

‘Trin, it’s a little after 5. None of the stores are open yet,’ I say to her.

‘Yes, they are open early today–at 6. Gettup,’ she demands.

I take a deep breath and let out a deliberate sigh. ‘Okay. Pick me up in thirty minutes. Gotta hop in the shower.’

‘Turdy minutes?’ she yells. ‘You better hurry, girl. We need to get there.’

‘Okay. Twenty, but that’s as far as I go.’

An hour later, we pulled into the mall’s parking lot, and surprisingly enough, there were cars everywhere. I turned to her.

‘I didn’t know the mall was open this early,’ I said through a loud yawn.

She ignores me.

‘My friend works in Macy’s. He said to come the back way.’

The back way, I think questioningly.

We get out of the car and quickly walk to the back of Macy’s. Through the glass door we see her friend. She bangs on the door, causing her 15 bangle bracelets to clank loudly. He comes and opens the door.

‘Woman, you made it,’ he says.

‘Trini always makes it,’ she teases.

I smile.

‘And good morning to you,’ he says exposing teeth the size of chicklets.

Trini sticks her index finger in his face.

‘Now don’t you be get-ting ideas about Vallie. She gotta man.’

‘She can use me as a spare,’ he answers.

They laugh loudly as if I’m not there–it makes me wonder if I am.

Trini turns to me. ‘Okay Vallie, do not let me buy anyting more than the sheets and blendarrr. Okay?’

‘Yes sir, Trini sir.’

She gives me a strange look. ‘Vallie, you weird, girl.’

I’m weird?

We head into the bedding section; Trini starts jumping up and down.

‘Oh, Vallie, lookie here. Soooo many tings to pick. I don’t know where to begin,’ she says.

‘Well, Trini, start from the beginning. It’s a very good place to start.’

She pulls her head back and laughs. ‘Vallie, you need to get some sleep,’ she says.

‘Ah, hellooooo? I’d be sleeping if you didn’t wake me,’ I say back.

She laughs hysterically. ‘You can sleep later,’ she says.

Gosh, make up your mind, woman.

Well, Trini starts going from one section to another and I’m following her like a puppy on a leash. She has gathered several sheet sets and now has over $500.00 worth of sheets in her hand. From several feet away, I can see that she was about to pick up another set–a purple stripped cotton.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ I hollar out.

She gives me the evil eye. ‘Vallie, deeze are so beautiful. I have to have dem.’

I head towards her. ‘Step away from the sheets!’ I tell her.

‘But Vallie, I won’t buy any more after dis. Promise.’

‘Trin, you have seven sheet sets. They’re isn’t one under $75.00. You can’t do this. You still need to get the blender,’ I say.

She stares down at the purple stripped sheet set, and then lifts her head.

‘You are right. Okay. I’m put-ting dem back.’

‘Good. I’ll wait right here,’ I tell her.

As Trini heads back to where she got the purple sheet set, something catches my attention and I walk over to look at it. Several minutes later, I turn to look for Trini.

Where is she, I mumble under my breath.

I head over to one section and she’s not there. I go towards the Ralph Lauren section, she’s not there, either. Where the hell is she, I say to myself.

‘Trin?’ I yell in a whispery way.

Nothing.

‘Trini?’ I call out again.

Nothing.

This freakin’ woman, I start to mumble loudly.

I am now walking all around the store and head over to the escalator. I take out my cell phone and call her. I get her voice mail . . .

Trini say, Put da lime in da coconut and mix it t’all up.

I close my phone. Now I’m pissed. I can’t find her, and I’m thinking of calling my boyfriend to come and get me.

I’m about to dial my house when I hear a commotion. I look up to see what it is. It’s Trini and another woman. I quickly head over.

‘I will snap you in half,’ Trini says to the other woman.

The other woman throws her stuff on the floor. ‘Who you gonna snap, you island bitch?’ she says back.

Oh Lord, I have to stop this. ‘Trini, don’t do it,’ I yell frantically.

She doesn’t look at me. ‘Vallie, leave me alone. Nobody talks to Trini like dis.’

I get up to her. The other woman is ready to kick some ass.

‘Ladies, come on. What’s the problem, here?’ I say.

The other woman speaks. ‘This bitch took my sheets. It was the last set. I placed it down for a minute and she came from behind and took it.’

I bulged my eyes at Trini. ‘Trini, I thought you were putting the purple sheets back?’

‘I did. But I saw deeze, and day were just sit-ting alone so I took dem.’

‘I’ll settle this right now,’ I say.

‘Trini, give the lady the sheets.’

‘I won’t,’ she snaps.

‘Trini, you brought me with you for a reason. Give this lady her sheets.’

The lady responds. ‘Listen to your friend. Obviously she’s the only one with a mind.’

Trini now looks like a deranged bull. She’s ready to go for the lady’s throat.

I grab the sheet set out of Trini’s hands and give it to the lady. ‘Here. Trini, let’s go or I’m leaving,’ I say.

She shifts her gaze at me. ‘Okay Vallie. I do it for you.’

After I settle that little mess, I tell Trini that I have to use the ladies room.

‘I’m going to the bathroom. Where will you be?’ I say.

‘I’m goin’ to go to the blendarr section. Meet me der,’ she says.

Well, I was only gone for ten minutes. One would think that another could be left alone for ten minutes. But I was wrong. As I approached the small appliance section, I hear people laughing. Trini has several blenders in her grasp–two in her arms and one under her arm, and she’s looking for electrical outlets. Her massive bag of sheets is sitting on the floor with her coat and purse.

‘Trini, where you going with those blenders?’ I yell loudly.

‘I’m going to plug dem in,’ she answers.

‘Where?’ I ask, not totally surprised.

‘Over here, by the restaurant. Vallie, watch my tings,’ she says.

Yeah, right. I am not leaving you alone for a minute.

I quickly get her things, and I run over to the restaurant area in Macy’s. There’s a fruit cart near the breakfast bar. Trini is filling the blender with fruit. Holy crap.

‘Trini, what the hell are you doing?’ I frantically whisper.

Trini had strawberries and melon in the blender and is looking for an electrical outlet. The waitress comes over. ‘Ladies, can I ask what you’re doing?’ she says.

Trini answers her. ‘I’m buying a blendarr, and I need to see which is better,’ she says very innocently.

The waitress stares at her like she’s insane. ‘You can’t take this fruit. And you can’t test out the blenders in the store.’

Trini was already near an outlet and plugged in the blender. She was all excited. ‘Vallie, lookie here. Dis is niiiice, girl. I like dis one,’ she says.

The waitress is now on the phone with security. And they find us. After a few minutes of trying to get out of another jam, Trini buys the blender and we leave.

We are now in the mall. Trini turns to me. ‘You know Vallie. I don’t tink I told you dis, but I really miss home. I miss the warm, balmy breezes, and I miss da water.’

With this, we pass the big fountain outside of Macy’s, and it’s filled with coins, and it’s filled with water. And I get this gut feeling, and I turn to look at Trini. She’s staring into the water.

‘I would love to walk in dis water, right now,’ she says.

I feel my eyes come out of their sockets.

‘No. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it,’ I beg.

She laughs. ‘Vallie, you gotta live, woman. You gotta live.’

Before I knew it, she had her bags on the floor, her coat off, her shoes off, and was climbing in the fountain. People are stopping and staring, and pointing at the crazy lady in the fountain.

I had to think fast.

‘Now come on, Trini,’ I say as if she is 4 years old. ‘I have to get you back to the home. If we don’t get back they won’t give you ice-cream after your dinner tonight.’

‘Dis feels so niiice, Vallie. Come on in,’ she says. She’s giggling like a little kid.

Security comes over. ‘Ma’am, are you the caretaker for this woman?’

I cock my head. Did he just call me ma’am?

I mean really, people. Why me?

Are You Loveable

Yesterday morning, I was walking with a friend, when we got into a little tiff over whether or not she was a loveable person. I know this sounds almost crazy, but it happened. You see, my friend was telling me that she can’t find a good guy because every guy she dates has big issues.

She told me that she went out with this guy on several dates, and then one day, just when she thought there was a possibility of a relationship, he was gone–just like that. No phone calls, no emails, no nothing. At first, she thought that maybe he was sick and was in the hospital–but he wasn’t. Then she thought that maybe he had gotten hit by a car and was dead–but he wasn’t. She just couldn’t figure out what happened to him, until she got desperate and tracked his ass down.

She went to his house and rang his bell; and when he opened the door, he was face to face with a furious monster. She demanded to know why he stopped calling her. She demanded closure.

Well, he invited her to come in and then told her to sit down–he was going to be honest with her; after all, she asked for it.
He went on to say that she constantly complained, and that she had a bad attitude. He said that being with her drained the life out of him.

So she said to him, “Why? What did I do or say that gave the impression that I am miserable?”

And he said, “You have something negative to say about everything–from your hair to the weather, to the food you eat in every restaurant.”

She was stunned. She didn’t realize how negative she was. Then she said to him, “But I am such a loveable person.”

And he said to her, “If you think it’s loveable to criticize every detail of life then you’re delusional.”

So here we were, taking our morning walk, when she told me this entire story.

“So, what do you think? Isn’t he a dirtbag?” she asked.

I hesitated. She glanced at me sideways and stared into my head. I knew that I had to be honest with her.

“So, why aren’t you answering me?” she asked.

“Okay. Look. I’m going to be honest with you only because you’re asking me to.”

“I can take it,” she said like a tough-guy.

“Okay. Listen. I know you for many years, and I know you’re a good person.”

She was giving me the evil eye. “Yeah, go on.”

“But you complain about everything.”

“I do not. I just report the facts the way they are,” she said.

“The facts may be negative, but constantly talking about them is draining.”

“I don’t get how war and crime and bad weather can be positive. If I have a conversation with you about world events, it’s not going to be a positive conversation. There’s nothing good about our country and what’s happening with the economy.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “The reason our world is so wrong is because most people dwell on all the bad things instead of giving thanks when they wake up in the morning. If people would wake up and start their day with gratitude instead of attitude, then a positive chain of reaction would take place.”

“That’s bullshit!” she practically yelled. “It’s unrealistic to walk around with a smile when everything is wrong.”

“Everything is wrong because most people love to talk about what’s wrong instead of what’s right. You freakin’ people are willing this shit into your lives by talking and thinking about it all day long. There are some of us who like to talk about good things, you know.”

Suddenly we were quiet. I knew that I came on strong, but I didn’t care. Don’t ask me for the truth if you’re not prepared to get it.

We kept on walking, not looking at each other nor speaking; the air was literally thick with tension. Finally she said something. “How do I stop thinking so negatively?”

I turned to look at her. “It takes practice and hard work.”

“It does?”

I stared ahead when I answered her. “Yes, it does. To think negatively is a horrible habit that most people aren’t even aware of. You have to deliberately think positively. When a negative thought comes to mind, you have to look for the bright side of that particular thing, and you have to keep doing it, and doing it, and doing it–and never stop.”

She stared into my face, and I could feel her sadness. She’s a good person; she just didn’t know how negative she was.

“Can you help me?” she said like a lost soul.

“Yeah, I can help you.”

We just kept walking.

“It’s really cold today,” she said breaking the silence.

I smiled.

“Yes, it is, but at least it’s not snowing or raining. It’s sunny and bright.”

She smiled back. “Yeah, thank God it’s sunny and bright. It could be worse.”

“That’s right. We live in a great neighborhood and have food and a warm bed to sleep in,” I added.

“Yeah,” she said. “And we have money to pay our bills and we have cars.”

“And we have our health, and we have each other, and we can walk, and we’re not living in the streets without a roof over our heads. We have people who love us.”

“Oooh, I have another,” she eagerly chimed in. “And we have eyes to see with, and legs that can move. We really are blessed.”

“Yep. We really are. So who cares about one guy who doesn’t like you. There are over 7 billion people around the world. There’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

She laughed and then put her arm through mine. “Yeah. There’s plenty to go around.”

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are you dating a momma’s boy

I may not be many things, but the one thing that I am is an expert when it comes to the topic of mommas’ boys. I should know. I married one. So what makes a momma’s boy a momma’s boy?

When you date and then marry a momma’s boy what you are actually doing is battling it out for first place in your man’s life. A mother who has pampered and babied and spoiled her son will be a very hard act to follow. Naturally, the son will have extremely high standards because of this, and any woman who comes into his life will probably never measure up to his expectations of how a woman should be. And let me be really clear about this. His mother was no dummy when she implemented these ideas. She was making sure that she would always be number one.

It’s my belief that when a mother spoils her son, she does so deliberately, setting her territorial rights to him. She wants to instill a belief that she simply cannot be replaced–ever!

From the time he’s brought into this world, she does everything for him, practically rendering him helpless. She makes sure that he turns into a whiny, pathetic, cry baby, who runs to her when life isn’t going his way. I may sound a bit harsh, but I’m just being honest. Anyone who is dating or married to this type of guy knows that I’m speaking the truth.

So let’s say you’re dating a momma’s boy. The first thing that will happen is that he’s going to compare the way you look to the way his mother looks. He won’t mean to do this–it’s a subconscious thing. And if you cook a meal for him, just know that it will never be as good as his mother’s. Oh, it will come in at a close second, but have no worries. He’ll tell you to come by the house so you can get a few tips from her. But wait. Here comes the good stuff.
When you live with a momma’s boy, you can usually expect that he won’t lift a finger to help. He’ll throw his clothes on the floor, leave dishes in the sink, and expect all his meals to be served to him, just the way his momma always did for him. You’ll have to iron his shirts because his mother did. And you’ll have to make meatloaf the way his momma does. And there won’t be one thing that you will do that won’t be compared to the way his mother does it. And here’s the big one. If the momma doesn’t like you, you’re pretty much history.

When I was 22, I married a guy who wouldn’t let go of his mother’s apron strings, and as a result, the marriage suffered. No matter what I did, I was constantly being compared to her. I was # 2, never quite measuring up to the way she did things. I was always one card short of a full deck. And that one card that she had that I didn’t have was her trump card–the “you’re my baby boy” card.

She was clever and knew how to work it. I have to say that in spite of how she ruined him, we became close. Oh, it was a huge struggle for the first few years, but she resigned to the fact that he married me, and I resigned to the fact that I would never be number one in his life. That’s probably why I divorced him.

Living with a momma’s boy is a no win situation. But hey. If you’re comfortable being in second place, then go for it.

How high can we get

Have you ever thought about taking your life? What leads a person to commit suicide? Why do some people fall into a deep state of depression? Doctors and psychiatrists can only speculate the reasons to these questions from examining thousands of case studies. But how can a doctor or any person really know what goes on in someone’s mind? Our minds aren’t equal. Doctors can diagnose cancer, and through scientic studies and research, provide a treatment to put it into remission. But our minds can’t be examined in the same fashion as a disease. Our thoughts, with their underlying fears and motivators, are intricate and unique; therefore, not measurable. If ten people were asked to describe the color red in an apple, I’m betting that each person’s description would be a bit different. Perception is key, isn’t it? But here’s what got me thinking. What makes a person self destruct? Where does their wiring go wrong? Can we legitimitely blame our parents for the way we feel? I’m going to go out on a limb and say, no. I believe that we are subject to their habits and personalities, and as a result, can learn their behaviors, but there’s more to it. The mechanics of what makes a person tick is multi-faceted; and why people fall into depression has a lot to do with feeling unfulfilled.

We’ve all heard the stories about Jim Morrison, Janice Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, and so many other famous artists and actors, who’ve overdosed on drugs at a very early age. Some of these people deliberately took their lives while others died accidentally. Their successes, and the rush that accompanies it, was achieved so early in life that they felt the need to experience something that would take them higher. What does a person do to achieve this rush after they’ve exhausted all other possibilites? What do you do after you’ve had it all and done it all? How high can we go?

People, like you and me, try our best to make our lives better, yet millions of us suffer from deep depression. Some are battling an addiction, while others are feeling so useless that they want to die. They wake up, take a good look around, and ask the frightening question that has plaqued the greatest of minds since the beginning of humanity. They ask, is this all there is?

I understand that everyone doesn’t have these thoughts. We’re not alike. But through reading and observing, it appears that deep thinkers and artists suffer more than the everyday person. Like these great minds, I too, have asked myself if this was all there was and I’m not speaking rhetorically. I’m serious. For me, the feeling of being useless and questioning my existence, pushed me into asking this very question.

I was unhappy with my life and felt that I didn’t have anything to look forward to. I didn’t have an interest in things. I was bored with the club scene. I was bored with hearing the talkers talk. I was bored with the game. When I examined what was left, I asked the question that I was afraid to get the answer to. I felt that there had to be more than merely existing. There had to be more than acting robotically. There had to be more than what I was doing–getting up, going to work, acting out the part and not receiving the applauds.

It was during this period of my life when I relapsed into a disorder known as agoraphobia. All the questions that plagued me for years, the very same questions that I asked but was afraid to get the answers to, were surfacing to my conscience. These questions made me think–they made me pick apart my life and curse my existence. I didn’t want to face these questions because facing them meant facing the answers that went along with them.
Finally, out of desperation to rid myself of the disorder, I turned to the one thing that I didn’t believe in, and that was God. I begged Him to show me my purpose. I begged Him to tell me if there was more to life than what I was experiencing? I had to know if there was more. And I found out that there is more. We can go higher if we look past the material things. Follow me on this. Buying cars and boats, and jewels and vacations only gives a temporary high. After they’re gone, how do you get another rush? Most people keep buying. They buy bigger cars and boats, bigger houses and more jewels. If you have money, you keep buying. Finally, when you have obtained it all, what’s next? Drugs? Gambling?

Listen. We can only go so high. The money can only give us so much gratification. When you’ve done it all, you have to find something else to give you that high, and drugs isn’t the answer. But reaching out to others, is. When you have it all, it’s time to start giving back. Helping people, in any capacity, is the way. It’s the only way.

I was only a young girl when Peggy Lee shot to fame with her song, Is That All There Is, and now I understand why the song went big. Ask yourself . . . is this all there is?

The greatest minds have experienced this disturbing question and felt the need to challenge themselves. Are you up to the challenge? Read Master of the Realm. I think it’s something that you’ll be able to relate to.

clawing my way up

her mind consumed with ideas
quiet conversations
beyond the comprehension of the others
reading words
studying truths,
being tested by the best
nevertheless
she always passes

and when the day is done
she wonders what will become
of all her efforts
exhausted
depleated
she closes her eyes to let it all go

but when ?
she begs to know

faith, does it matter
being pushed to the edge
backed into a dead end with no way out
she claws her way up
relentless to get to the top

and just when she believes there isn’t a road
she finds one

Don’t look now, but they’re laughing at us

I have a question. How do babies know how to smile? How do they know to laugh? At infancy, you can get a baby to giggle its little head off. But how? It’s not like they’re listening to one of your jokes and crack up laughing, and then give you a hi-5, is it? How do they know to smile and giggle when we’re making those goo-goo faces at them? It’s not like we teach them. I really want to understand this. Someone tell me how a baby of only a week old, who can’t talk, who can’t walk, who doesn’t know right from wrong, or have any ability to reason, whose body isn’t grown, knows that we are doing something silly to get them to laugh? What makes them crack up?

The only answer that is even remotely feasable in my mind is that laughing is a innate gift from God. It has to be. There is no way that any doctor or scientist is going to debate this with me. I don’t care if they stand on their heads and point out scripture; laughing is a gift from our Father. If a baby can laugh when it can’t even use logic or reasoning, then it has to be a gift. So, now I want to know why we laugh? If we laugh it has to be for a reason. Yes, I understand that we laugh because something is funny. But why is it funny? What makes it funny? What happens in our brains that tells our insides to start the process of turning up our mouths in preparation for the fit of hysterics we are about to perform? What is the purpose of laughing like an out of control hyena?

Our bodies release chemicals when we laugh. Did you know that? Yep. It releases endorphins and mood elevaters that aid us on many levels. It’s similiar to having a built in repair shop. Why do you think they, whoever they are, all say that laughter is the best medicine? Because studies show that those who laugh are less likely to have high blood pressure; less likely to have ulcers; less likely to have heart problems; less likely to die so young. Those who laugh several times a day heal quickly after surgery, heal quickly after chemo, heal faster overall. Those who can find laughter during a breakup will be more likely to move on. Laughing is also our bodies way of fending off stress. It’s one of our many defense mechanisms. Many people laugh while they are scared. So laughing does serve a purpose. God didn’t do it just for shits and giggles–no pun intended. So that leads me to my next question. How do babies know to cry? How do they know that they are unhappy the minute they are born?

So there you have it. At infancy, a baby knows when you’re telling a joke and when the joke really sucks.

one cock-a-doodledoo is enough, thank you

So, many of you know that I was posting a Friday blog–kind of like a weekly column, filling you in on everyday stuff that we all can relate to–like guys who wear their jeans below their butt cheeks, exposing their ass cracks, and nose pickers who eat their picks, and dog doodoo left unattended by pet owners. And then life got in my way and kept me from writing about that stuff, which resulted in a ton of emails asking me when I would resume my position as the ‘WordPress blogging mayor’. And this was good. So I thought about how I would be able to keep doing my work and at the same time write a column, blog my blogs, and network, all without getting totally nuts. Yes, I know I’m already nuts, so don’t email me to agree with me.

So this made me think. What? You don’t smell the smoke? Anyway, I needed to figure out how I was going to handle all this writing on an everyday basis, so I took a pen and pad, went over to my black leather recliner in my study, and plopped my butt into it. I was on a mission to construct a system that would give me permission to be productive and still have fun.

Well, it was 9 pm when I ventured into this little task, totally unaware that I was tired. I didn’t feel tired. I didn’t look tired. But heck, I must have been tired because the next thing I knew, I was being woken by a big, sharp, piercing, COCKADOODLEDOOOOOOOOOO.

I jumped from the recliner, not knowing where I was, and looked over to my TV clock–squinting to see the time. It looked like it was 4:30 am. “What the &%%%?” I said as I walked over to my window, which overlooks several properties, to search for the culprit. I couldn’t see anything because as you all know, it’s dark out at 4:30 am. Finally, I shut the blinds and decided that I should go to bed. I slipped on my pajamas, and got into my warm bed and within seconds, dozed out. I suppose all was calm, and all was right until I started to dream.

I dreamt that I was baking chocolate cupcakes, and there were thousands of them lined up waiting to be frosted. It was scary because I was worried how I would be able to frost them all. Big vats of creamy chocolate looked like black holes of swirling Hershey’s. I wanted to taste the Hershey’s, but everytime I put the spoon to my mouth, a big, COCKADOODLEDOO, came screaming out of me. I remember running and looking back, and the faster I ran, the faster the ‘cock’ ran. He just came from nowhere. I never knew that cocks could run that fast, but I sure learned pretty quick. It was catching up to me, this cock, and it would scream its insane call at me. I ran, and ran, until I flew away. But I wasn’t safe, because the cock had wings and he kept calling me until I woke in a sweat.

I jumped from my sleep, totally out of breath, waking the boyfriend. “What’s the matter, Chu? Did you have a nightmare?”

“It was horrible,” I gushed. “I had this big cock chasing me.”

“Excuse me?” he said, now fully awake.

“Yeah, I had this big, noisy cock chasing me, calling to me… cockadoodledoo, but really loud.”

All I heard was laughter, then more laughter, then hysterics.

“What the hell is so funny?” I said groggily.

“What kind of cock was this?” he said in between his fit of hysterics.

“It was the kind with wings.”

“Did it have a head?”

“Of course it had a head. What cock doesn’t have a head?”

I leaned down into my pillow, trying to ignore him.

“Oh, this is special,” he said in between gagging. “Your cock had a head and wings. Only you would dream this.”

As I lay with my eyes shut, it occurred to me what he was thinking. “You moron,” I shouted. “I dreamed of a bird, not a you-know-what.”

He was laughing even louder.

Men. Mention the word ‘cock’ and you get a rise out of them.

You judging me ?

So many times people pick and choose who they want to like and who they want to not like. Isn’t that right? We’ve all done it to some extent, haven’t we? We may see a person, whom we never met, and within seconds, size them up to be a person we just don’t like. We have no particular reason other than to tell ourselves that we just don’t like their face or that there is ‘something’ about that person that we just don’t like. Why do we do this? Why do we label some people as ‘not acceptable’ without even getting to know them?

Of course, there are hundreds of reasons why we actually do this. Maybe we’re intimidated by them, or maybe they remind us of someone who has hurt us in the past, or maybe they remind us of ourselves and what we’re trying to run away from. Or possibly they see us as a threat to their egos. The reasons are endless. And just to state for the record, I believe that we are all guilty of this at some point in our lives.

Throughout my life, I have done this to people. I’ve judged them before knowing them, and usually I was wrong. I’ve become very good friends with several of the people who I’ve misjudged, and I am thankful that I found out about how great they really are. On the flipside of this, I have been the victim of being judged. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been shunned by people who didn’t know me, but took an immediate dislike to me. And make no mistake about it that it was clearly obvious that they didn’t like me simply by how they treated me. This was and is very disturbing. Dozens of questions would smother me, wanting answers: What did I do? Did I say something wrong? Did I come off as a snob? Did I look at them cross-eyed? Was my hair not long enough, short enough, what? Tell me, somebody, anybody, what did I do?

I know many friends who are currently divorced. Many of them told me identical stories; that their spouse was ‘looking’ for a reason to leave them. The spouse would pick fights at the drop of a dime. They wanted out and looked for reasons to get out. They weren’t brave enough to go to the woman and tell her what was on his mind. Instead, he chose a cowardly way to do it. He found fault in every thing she did. He wanted to fight. He wanted to have a reason, and because he was wanting to leave, he saw his actions as justified. And he left.

The same thing holds true for relationships and friendships. Have you ever been in a situation where you just knew in your heart that a friend really didn’t want to be friends with you? Think about that. You may have done nothing wrong to them. In fact, you did everything a friend could do to prove your friendship, yet, this person was clearly keeping you around ‘just in case’. And then one day, you say one thing wrong, one tiny statement that just sends this person into orbit, and without giving you a reason why, they dismiss you, just like that. You try to talk to them to find out why your statement affected them the way that it did, but they refuse to talk to you–they refuse to acknowledge you. It’s almost as if they’re happy that you’re not friends. They found the excuse that they were hoping to find in order to cut the cord, and they aren’t going to let you back in; because they never really wanted you there in the first place. Has that ever happen to you?

Well, I say this with a heavy heart, but it’s happened to me, and is still happening. And no matter what I have tried, there are those few that just don’t like me. So I gave it great thought. And I prayed upon it, asking God for answers. I wanted to know why I was failing when I was doing my best to succeed? And I received my answers, which for me, works.

I can state stale cliches: there’s a lid for every pot, or win some lose some; but I won’t. I’m only going to say that judging others without knowing them is selling ourselves short. There are wonderful people to know, who’ve so much to offer in terms of love, knowledge, and compassion. You want to know what I really think? I think we misjudge others who threaten our egos. Those people who are rich, successful, talented, and well loved make us face what we aren’t, and that’s why we shun them.

Okay. Today is a new day. And I want to like all the people I meet. And even though that might not happen, and even though they may not like me, I’m going to put my best foot forward and keep an open mind and an open heart. I’m stepping up to the plate by saying that for those who don’t know me, who’ve misjudged me by my cover, I am still smiling, regardless if you like me or not.

Take the first step to loving yourself. We are good people. Every one of us is good. Give someone a break. Stop being so judgemental and ask yourself this: Am I a good person? Am I reallllllly a good person? I think you’ll get an honest answer that you might be ashamed to admit.

I make me sick

Most people think that they have to go to a doctor to get well. After all, this is what they’ve been brain washed into believing.
Doctors are a staple in our lives for the purpose of feeling good. We as a nation, or better yet, as a world, go to doctors for every little ailment–from a cold to cancer. We rely on our doctors to get us fixed up. We spend billions of dollars and expect these doctors to be God. We go to therapists to fix our minds and listen to what THEY believe is right. People, come on. Doctors are only people who’ve gone to school to get a license to give us their opinions which are solely based on case studies and people-tested remedies. It doesn’t make them gods.

Now I’m not knocking the medical industry. They’ve made tremendous strides in many areas and can certainly help us. But did you know that you can heal yourself of anything?

We aren’t supposed to be sick. We weren’t born to be sick. If our bodies heal cuts and minor illnesses all on their own, without us giving much thought to it, then why can’t we heal other illnesses that are bigger? It’s all in the power of belief and what we were taught to think. I have read dozens of books about the subconscious mind. I have studied anxiety disorders for over twenty years. I have had agoraphobia twice in my life and beat it without drugs, and the second time without any help at all. You see, our thoughts are pure energy which if used improperly can manifest negative outcomes in our lives, including sickness. Most people who suffer from back problems, stomach issues, allergies, anxiety disorders, and even heart attacks are people who have habitual negative thoughts. Now don’t get me wrong. I know these illnesses are real, but it’s our thoughts that are to blame.

Another point that I want to make is this: When we have problems that we don’t want to face or deal with, they manifest as symptoms in our bodies. Inner conflict can show up as a skin rash, acne, back pain, headaches, and even hemorrhoids. And avoidance of dealing with inner conflicts can lead to ulcers, cancers, and other symptoms that are internal that we can’t see. I know that a doctor would debate me on this, and I would expect that. The medical industry has a lot to lose if people educated themselves. Stress is a killer, but it’s how we deal with it and what we think about our lives and ourselves that determine the outcome of our health.

When I was in a full-blown agoraphobic relapse, I was physically sick with stomach aches, heart palpitations, rapid heart rate, panic attacks, depression, and the list goes on. My thoughts everyday were habitual and negative. I kept telling myself I would never get better and that I would end up in a hospital. Once I began to pray and meditate, I began receiving information that led me to the truth and understanding that it’s our negative thoughts that keep us sick. Once I took this information and did more research on the power of the mind and what we can do with it, with the guidance of the other side, I made tremendous strides in becoming well. I turned my negative thoughts into positive thoughts that eventually changed my direction and my health.

Here is a small list of books which had a tremendous impact on me. I took what I could from these books and applied the principals. All of these books have the same premise and that is ‘what you think you shall become’.

The Bible. If you read the Bible, which was written over 2000 years ago, you will see formulas used to overcome the negative thoughts we have. It is written in the Bible that what we believe in we will receive. It is written that what we pray upon will come true. It is written that if we seek we shall find. What this means, if you break it down, is that we have a God given power to manifest every single thing in our lives. Our thoughts, which are energy, move throughout the universe and create either a negative or positive manifestation, depending on if it’s a negative or positive thought. This is a fact.

Another powerful book that I’ve read is The Power of Intention by Dr. Wayne Dyer. Again, a book based on the deliberate intent of thinking in a positive manner.

Two books by Esther and Jerry Hicks. The Law of Attraction, and Money and the Law of Attraction.

Seth Speaks and The Seth Material by Jane Roberts.

Read any book by Deepak Chopra

The Secret; it doesn’t delve into the exact how’s and why’s but it’s a decent platform to begin with.

I’ve read books by scientists and specialists. I’ve taken their theories, applied what worked best for me, and formulated my own ideas. Let me explain something to you. When I got sick, I was so desperate to get well that I did whatever I could to get well. I prayed and meditated and talked to God so much that what I began to notice was that my inner self talk was changing. My words were turning into words of love and appreciation. After all, who talks to God in a nasty tone? So the more I talked to God in my loving way, the more I saw myself feeling better. Because if you really think about it, what you think and say in your head, no matter who you think you’re saying it to, is really affecting YOU. You are actually talking to yourself and absorbing it all. This in and of itself begins the process of thought reprogramming, which in turn will make you think differently, which in turn will change your direction into how you think and handle things.

When you use loving, kind words in your mind or out loud, you begin to believe it. You begin to accept it, and by accepting it, you begin to subconsciously love yourself.

People, this is big. This is deep. You can heal yourself of anything. Read. Read as many books as you can. Learning is the key. Take charge of your life and your health.

The Hamptons made me fat

It was a lovely day in the neighborhood. The sun was shining and the temps soared into the 80s, and people were coming out of woodwork. I took it as my cue to get out of Staten Island and to head over to Long Island—to the Hamptons, dahling, the playground of the beautiful.

First and foremost, I want to say that you haven’t lived until you traveled on the Belt Parkway heading east out to Long Island. Opinions may vary, and it’s been debated that the Long Island Expressway has every road in New York beat in terms of being the worst, but I say phoowee. The Belt Parkway takes the lead, hands down. Yes, it’s a lovely ride as you travel this well-built road. You get a wonderful blend of bumper-thumpers, Nascar-driver wannabe’s, and let’s not forget the Sunday pokies, Between the potholes and the lunatics, and the accidents and JFK Airport, it’s a miracle that you can make it out of first gear. But hey, I was going to the Hamptons, and I was happy.

Once I hit the Hamptons, my first stop was Starbucks, for a latte and a pee.

I would be totally remiss in my duties if I didn’t paint a picture of the colorful characters that I had encountered while in Starbucks. In the fifteen minutes that I was there, I saw two hippies wearing bell bottoms, bandanas with peace signs, and red, yellow, and blue tye-dye shirts, a gay couple whose names were Justin and Mark–I overheard their conversation—my bad, one Andy Warhol look-a-like, a group of ladies from Connecticut who were wearing red T-shirts that said, Bob’s tackle and lobster shanty, three super models from the 60s, and then me–oh, and a sheep dog named Russell who had a scarf around his neck that said, bite me. There was so much going on that I thought that I was an extra in a Quentin Tarantino movie and someone forgot to tell me. But hey, I was in the Hamptons, and I was happy.

After I left Starbucks, I drove into East Hampton to do a little shopping. I had planned on hitting Main Beach first, but then I decided against it. I parked my car by Citarella’s and walked down Newtown Lane. Can I tell you something? Thems purdy people out there. There wasn’t a fat person in sight; not even a plump one; not even a pot-belly. It made me a bit aware of the five pounds that I put on this winter. As I continued to go from store to store, I made sure that my posture was erect and my breath sucked in–after all, I was in the Hamptons, and I think I was happy.

From Newtown Lane, I decided it was time to hit the beach. What would a trip to the Hamptons be without going to one of their magnificent beaches? Right? So I headed over to Main Beach, parked, and headed for the sand. There weren’t too many people on the beach, but I was fine with that. I just wanted to absorb the color—the beautiful green ocean, the gentle breezes, the soft sand. I wanted to bask in the sun and just let my mind drift . . . drift . . . drift. Yes, I was drifting until I heard laughter. When I turned to look, a group of men and women were setting up chairs. They were taking off their clothes. They were perfect! Not a big one in the bunch. I then turned to my left. A couple of elderly ladies were sporting big floppy hats and shorts and they looked great. Gosh, darn! I casually tucked my Doritos into my beach bag and wiped the corners of my mouth. This place made me feel fat! And I don’t mean phat, people. I mean fat, as in fatty, chubby, puffy. But all in all, I was in the Hamptons, and I was adament about being happy.

From the beach, I went to take pictures of the fields and wildlife. Every street I turned down had beautiful people jogging on it. They were lovely, with their trim bodies and hair blowing in the wind. I felt my mood slowly deteriorating. I gritted. I was in the Hamptons, damn it. And I was going to be happy if it was the last thing I ever did!

A journal confession: I’m going to end up alone

I found out that God knows how to bring it on. Doesn’t he? He gives me whatever lessons I need the most, and he keeps bringing it until I finally get it. I’m a thick-headed girl—always have been. But once I grasp the concept of something that is being shown to me, I usually get it. However, there are times when I don’t get it because it’s the other idiosyncrasies that I possess that give me trouble. When I take all of my idiosyncrasies into consideration, I realize that it’s more than one tiny thing that I have to work on, concerning my personality. It’s a series of malfunctions in my perception, which I must take one by one, analyze, and then yank them out from my core beliefs. Do you know what I’m saying? I can’t blame my inner feelings on just one particular thing. It’s never just one thing, is it? It’s a cluster of things that lead up to the ‘thing’ that eats at us. And this is what people don’t understand. When people have issues, they think it’s the ‘issue’ giving them trouble when it’s really their core beliefs. All of our experiences have formulated our beliefs. And even though we experience events, it doesn’t make our beliefs accurate. Because once again, perception can be faulty due to upbringing. Yikes! I’m turning Freud-a-neeza

During the day, I feel isolated. In order to write, I have to stay by myself. I speak to my sister and the BF for a brief moment or two, but it doesn’t make me feel any less alone. I don’t have anyone to share my thoughts with. I only have my laptop who doesn’t know how to answer me back. Not too many people I know are into paranormal psychology and metaphysics. The sister doesn’t understand it, and the BF just stares at me like I have four heads. So I know the feeling of loneliness. You can be in a room full of people and still feel lonely. I know this first hand.

For many years, I believed that I would be alone. I believed it was my fate to not have anyone to love me. I didn’t connect with guys. I dated them, but it wasn’t real. Nothing lasted. A date or two was as far as it would go because either I didn’t like the guy, or the guy didn’t like me.
And I stayed alone for many years. I gave up dating. I couldn’t be bothered with the head games–so I just turned down dates and stayed by myself. I was tired of reaching out and nobody being there, and this included friendships, as well. If anyone knows what it feels like to believe that they are meant to be alone, it’s me. Even now, I believe that I’m meant to be alone. I don’t understand why I don’t have many friends. I have online friends, but nobody here to talk to face to face. I have two close friends who live out-of-state, but they’re out-of-state.

My parents were loners, and I want to break that mold. I don’t want to follow in their genetic isolation path. I want friends, but I refuse to be anything other than what I am to have them. I’m different, and I know this. I’ve always known that I’m different. People tend to back away from me, and yet, they tell me that I fascinate them. I don’t get it. Maybe it’s my face or my look, or the way I command myself that intimidates others? But this is me, and I like me. I like me because I know that I am loving and gentle–and others would know this too, if they would take the time to look past my exterior.

You are the same as me. You want to come home to someone who you can connect with on many levels. You want to experience love and lust, and laughter and goofiness, and you want to share intimate secrets and beliefs about life and God. Yes, I know exactly what you want, and it will happen, however it will happen, and with whomever it will happen with. Just keep the faith. A person such as yourself is a gift to the person who is waiting for you. But maybe you have closed yourself up, and you’re not letting love flow in, just as I’m not letting my fame flow in, due to the fear of it. Think about that. We say we know what we want, but when we think about it too closely and examine it, we close our minds because we think it’s not going to happen, and that thought in and of itself is very scary. Yes, no? Is it possible that we are pinching ourselves off from what we want because we’re afraid of not getting it or because we’re afraid that we actually might get it?

is a duck’s ass water tight

We humans are so crazy, aren’t we?

Just the other day, I got out of bed as I normally do, went into the living room and cranked open the windows. From there, I went into my office and did the same. It was a beautiful morning. The birds were out back, calling to each other. My wind chimes were gently playing their mystifying melodies. And at that moment, all was good.

I proceeded to shower and dress, and as I was blow drying my hair, I thought it was incredibly hot in the bathroom, so I climbed into the shower and opened the window. Ahhhh, that’s better, I thought. When I was done, I went into the kitchen to grab a bite of breakfast. I walked over to the refrigerator to get the milk, when I happen to take notice of my thermostat–it read 70 degrees.

70 degrees, I said to myself, and I’m sweating?

Then I began to think. And we all know what happens when I think too much. Well, I thought back to only several weeks ago when it was cold out. While the winds were blowing gustfully and the temperature was only 35 or 40 degrees, I had my heat set at 70 degrees. I kept it that way all winter because of the high cost of gas. And because I kept it at 70 degrees, I froze my hiney off. I was dressed in sweaters, and a shawl over my sweaters, because as I said, it was ONLY 70 degrees in my house. Is anyone catching on to what I’m saying?

How come it’s 70 degrees in my apartment right now, and not only am I warm, I have every window open? Yet, in the winter when I had my thermostat deliberately set for 70 degrees, I froze my damn butt off. Can anyone relate to this?

It’s almost similar to this scenerio. During the summer, we crank our air conditioners to 65, and we’re totally comfortable, yet in the winter, if we were to keep our thermostats at 65, we’d freeze. So what’s the deal with that?

Okay. I thought enough for one morning. I know someone reading this can totally relate to what I’m getting at.

Birds . . . and men—give me a break

I woke up at my new time—3:30 am. It seems that the birds in my neighborhood can’t sleep, so they start talking and singing and having a grand ole time. Why do they have to do this in the wee hours? Can’t they do it later in the day, when everyone’s awake?

What I’d like to know is why do they complain so much?

I have this one bird who comes to my window every single day, who strikes up a conversation with me. It’s true. He goes into this whole dialogue, launching nothing but complaints, and he doesn’t let up until I answer him.

Just this morning, at about 4ish, he was going at it. I listened carefully. I did. He was saying that it was slim-pickins’ around this neck of the woods. Yep. He was complaining again. I told him to go down the street and into the woods if he didn’t like what he was getting by my house. Yes, I did. Then he laughed at me. He did! He said, Ilikeitherewithyouchirpchirp.

And I answered him back. I said, wellthenquitchabitchintweettweettweet.

Then he got quiet, and I thought, okay, maybe I can go back to sleep for a few minutes. But he sensed my sudden disinterest and reacted to it.

He said, ohnoyoudidn’tcheeepcheeep.

And I let out an annoyed sigh and answered him, like the fool that I am. I said, Idid,nowgiveagirlabreakyouaresuchaguyjerkkkjerkkkjerkkk.

And do you know what he did? He laughed at me. He went, cheeepcheepcheepyeah,right.

Polly wanna cracker? Just like a guy… toss a crumb and they eat out of your hands.

You’re NOTHIN’ without your money

Will somebody please explain this to me. Why do people with money look down at the rest of us?

I got to thinking about this last night. I woke up about 3 a.m. with this very profound thought. I don’t know where it came from–perhaps I was dreaming and it woke me? Anyway, I woke up picturing a huge stage where several rich people were standing in a line. There wasn’t an audience, and there weren’t any props.
Then, one by one, each of them had their money taken away. Their jewelry vanished. Their homes and cars were gone. All the people in their lives, who kissed up to them because of their wealth, walked away. They were stripped of everything except of their clothes. Suddenly they were like all the rest of us, and they felt belittled and ashamed. Their heads hung as the harsh truth washed over them.

They were now faced with the understanding that their money was the only factor in giving them their value. Without their money, they weren’t important. They couldn’t buy favors. They couldn’t buy friendships. And even worse, they couldn’t buy their character.

Someone tell me, please. Do people with money actually believe that they’re above the rest? Or did they forget that their money is what buys them their power? I have to be honest. I have been around very wealthy people who had about as much class as a first-grader. Their homes and cars were messy and their intelligence and attitudes lacked finesse. The fact that they had money wasn’t a bad thing, but somewhere down the line they lost their humbleness and believed that they were above reproach. Well, I have two words to say on that . . . bull poopie!

There are millions of people who aren’t rich, who are brilliantly gifted in various areas of life, who shine way above some of these rich folks. Don’t let anyone fool you. A small percent of Americans are wealthy, but does that mean that they’re better then everyone else because of it?

I want everyone in this world to be wealthy. I believe that there is enough to go around. But really, people, if you get money, remember one thing. If the day ever comes where you’re standing on a stage, getting stripped down to the bare truth, don’t come running to those who you’ve treated poorly. Learn the value of life. Step away from the money and take a long, hard look around. We come in this world without it, and we leave without it. What does that make a rich person? It makes them just like the rest of us.

Take every human on this planet and line them up shoulder to shoulder. Strip them of everything. Do you know what you’d have? You’d have equality! That’s what you’d have.

Hey, I don’t wake up in the middle of the night for nothing. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.

Why did God create fireflies

Why did God create fireflies? Was it to light our paths at night? I’m sure that it wasn’t a coinky-dink that their tails light up only when it’s dark out. I’m a thinker, and you know me. If there is a thought to be had, I’m probably going to have it.

I was walking this morning, as I do every morning, and from out of nowhere I say to myself, where are the firelies? How come I don’t see them during the day? Is it because they go to sleep in their little firefly beds and only come out at night? Or, are they in a firefly day care center? Where are they? Then I got to thinking. I said to myself, if they only come out at night, then God made it that way for a reason.

Then another thought came to me. And I bowed my head and chuckled under my breath. I figured it out. They’re solar powered. They lay on the beach all day, soaking up the sun and then at night, they disburse their light until it’s depleted. Then, they go back on the beach—to the nudist beach, of course–and regenerate themselves. So that’s it! They’re nudists who get too much sun.

Boy … I am really happy that God gave me this brain. I’d be sooo lonely without it.

Tipping and stuff

Have you ever kissed up to someone just to get something out of them? I apologize for the bluntness of my question, but I’m a person who doesn’t believe in beating around the bush. So, back to my question. Have you? If you say that you never have, then you’re lying to yourself. At some point in time, whether you’ve chosen to acknowledge it or not, you’ve consciously or unconsciously polished a few door knobs to get something. Maybe you’ve become chummy with your neighbor, who you’ve snubbed for years, after learning that he works for your favorite retailer. Or maybe you’ve overtipped the hostess at your favorite restaurant, just so you can ALWAYS get a table. Come on, we’ve all done it to a degree, right? But then I got to thinking. Now don’t go giving me that look. I was thinking that it’s a shame that people need to kiss up or grease palms to get a favor. It’s like we’re at the mercy of those we’re sucking up to. Are they prostitutes and we the Johns?

I don’t want this to come out the wrong way. I believe that one hand washes the other, but I also believe in helping the next guy without getting a payoff for it. I guess that brings me back to the subject of money. What if you don’t have money to grease someone’s palm? What if you’re an average Joe, earning an average income? If you can’t afford to grease palms does it mean that you shouldn’t be treated the same way as those who ‘pay’ for their royal treatment?

I realize that money is a motivator and who doesn’t love money? But what happened to doing something nice just because? Do we have to suck every last dollar out of a person in order for us to help them?
I don’t know about you, but I believe that what goes around comes around. To receive you have to give.

And what about tipping? Oh gosh, don’t get me started there. Does a factory worker, earning minimum wage, expect to get tipped? I don’t think so. So why does a waiter expect to get tipped? Think about that. A restaurant owner hires a waiter, pays him minimum wage, just like the factory worker, only the waiter expects to be tipped. If you really think about that then you’ll have to agree that there’s a glitch somewhere. And what about donut shops and coffee shops. They put tip boxes at the registers expecting us to tip them for doing their jobs. Forgive me if I’m sounding cranky, but you know what? I don’t care. Where’s the justice? Don’t tell me that a factory worker is any different from a counter person. They both make the same minimum wage. The only difference is one works with the expectation of getting their weekly salary and the other expects to get compensated for doing what they’re already getting paid to do.
So does this mean that all office workers should put a tip box on their desks? Could you imagine? This country is out of control. Tipping is required when someone works on tips only. I can totallly get with that. By us tipping we’re being more than generous. Don’t you think? But tip boxes at EZ Pass? Okay, moving on.

Maybe I’ll put out a tip box at my next book signing. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I can just see the expressions on people’s faces. Priceless.

Alone on an empty highway

What does one think about when driving alone for hours down a dark and deserted highway? Journey is blasting through my speakers telling me that I shouldn’t stop believing. But I did stop believing–a long time ago; on that day–on that damn day that never leaves my mind.

I turn up the volumn searching for a bit of comfort–maybe even a hidden truth–anything; any advice that Steve could offer at this moment. But I guess he can’t. Because if he could then I wouldn’t feel these tears running down my cheeks. And I wouldn’t see the flames of self-destruction rising into the dark sky when I look back through the rearview mirror–looking back to the life that I left behind.

The highway can be the loneliest place on earth when you’re the only one on it. During the day when the sun is out, my demons stay buried in their caves underneath the stairs of my subconscious. I’m brave when the light shines–not thinking of the past and being able to shrug off the ghosts that try to walk with me. But at night, well, that’s another story. They know that this is my weakest time. They wait all day for the sun to set, and then they slowly creep up and slither into the pores of my thoughts. The night is my cryptonite and the sad part is that they know it.

How many chances does a person get to get it right? I drive past signs telling me to bear straight, yet my wheel has a will of its own. It takes me through detours, seeking out shortcuts to get me to my destination, only I never arrive. I never seem to quite get there. The highway is so frustrating when you can’t find your exit.

I turn off the radio and shake my head to clear it. I wonder where I’m going. I wonder if this road will get me there. I wonder if I’ll ever find out who I really am.

Why do ghosts come out at night? I look into my rearview mirror and I see darkness–the fires have gone out. It feels like there’s nothing there–no life left behind, no realness, no past. It reminds me of a conveyor belt that pulls me forward, around and back through the same scenery. How ironic. I’m stuck. I have millions of frequent flyer miles, but there’s no gas. If there was ever a time to scream, it would be now, but then I’d be able to hear it. I would have to listen to the echo of my pathetic shrills.

I reach forward and press the button to turn on the heater. It gets so damn cold during the night.

©valentine defrancis. 2009

Shamwow’s claim doesn’t hold water

You’ve probably seen the infomercial or the commercial for the miracle pickerupper, Shamwow—that’s the cloth that absorbs a gazillion times its own weight in liquid. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? I bet you’ve purchased one, right? If you haven’t, don’t. If you have, I’d like to hear what you think about it. My take on it is simple: it’s nothing more than a glorified handy wipe with a high price tag.

The boyfriend went to the store recently and returned saying that he bought me a present. Oh boy, a present, I said, clapping my hands like a five year old. Then he whips out the Shamwow box and says, look what I just got you. People, can we talk? I know the BF meant well, but I wasn’t expecting a box of Shamwows. When the BF comes home and says that he has a present for me, it better be jewelry or chocolates, otherwise I’m not interested. So what was my BF thinking when he gave me that box of Shamwows?

Okay, so moving forward with the story. After giving him the evil eye and grunting like a pig, I grabbed the box from his hands and proceeded into the bathroom to test it out. I mean, how could I resist the temptation to watch it absorb a gazillion times its weight? Know what I’m saying?
I decided that I would attack the glass shower doors. I got in the tub, without my shoes and socks of course, and turned on the water. Then I began to soak down the doors by washing them with Mr. Bubbles. After using the shower nozzle to remove Mr. Bubbles, I reached for the superduperwaterscooper, Shamwows. I took out the orange Shamwow and began to dry the doors. At first, I was nodding slowly, thinking that I was wrong about the Shamwows, but then I noticed that not all the water was absorbed, so I had to rewipe the doors. In fairness to the Shamwow, it had absorbed the water, but it didn’t leave the shower doors dry. In fact, I had to rewipe the doors with another Shamwow. So really. What was the point?

Trust me. Save your money and stick with Bounty. It’s the quicker pickerupper.

Valentine deFrancis doesn’t lie

In case anyone hasn’t noticed, I’m a writer. I am, damn it. No seriously, I am. Annnnd, I’ll be one of the featured authors sponsored by the Barnes and Noble outdoor event this Saturday, September, 12th at Westerleigh Park in Staten Island, New York.
I’ll be promoting my book, Master of the Realm; my true story of how I overcame agoraphobia with the help of the spirit world . . . YES, SPIRITS AND GHOSTS, people. What? You don’t believe? Afraid to believe? If you read my book, you’ll understand that they’re around you, whether you believe it or not.

Anyway, if you’re reading this and you live in the area, come on by. Admission is free. Would love to meet you. If it rains, it will be held the next day, Sunday, September 13th.

You see? I told you I was a writer. Gosh, Vallie doesn’t lie.

Later.

To Tweet or not to Tweet

Testing. Is this thing on?

Okay guys, I need you to please hear me out. I know Twitter started out as a hot commodity. It was just so groovy to post my thoughts and my whereabouts all week long. But can I tell you something? I don’t have the head to keep posting my thoughts and my whereabouts. It’s not that I don’t want you guys to know my whereabouts. It’s just that, well . . . do you really give a rat’s ass what I’m doing all day long? Does anyone really care about my bad hair day or that I’m meeting my gay friends for drinks? Or that I got my stiletto heal stuck in the metal groove on the escalator in the Menlo Park Mall? I don’t think so.
Why are we telling the world what we’re doing and who we’re with and what we want to aspire to when we grow up? I mean, really guys. Who has the time? But here’s what gets me.
We complain that the government knows too much of our business. We worry over identity theft. We’re afraid of being stalked. Hello? If you keep Twittering all day long, you can pretty much bet that your life is out there for the whole wide world to see.

Okay. I feel better. I just had to get this off my chest. Maybe I should have Tweeted this. Hmmm, not such a bad idea. Heck. What’s one more Tweet for the road?

Valentine deFrancis on Twitter

Tapping can get you anything you want—-listen up kids

EFT stands for Emotional Freedom Techique and this technique uses what’s called, tapping. When I first read about this, I had to try it. I was fascinated at how tapping one’s fingers on meridian points in their body could release clogged-up energy and reprogram subconscious beliefs. This is leading edge science, kids, so you really should listen up.

Tapping has been around for thousands of years. It follows the path of acupunture and acupressure, but uses one’s fingers instead of needles on the body’s pressure points in order to release negative energy. Also, tapping on our meridan points while using affirmations can reprogram subconscious distorted beliefs. It can help us overcome fears, addictions, phobias, and social disorders. Check out this site EFT for a better life by Gary Craig

I’m a studier of anything related to the mind. I’m willing to indulge in this leading edge technology if it means getting rid of unconscious beliefs that have been keeping my life in a stagnating funk. Don’t you think it’s worth a try? It’s free and you can do it without anyone’s help. You don’t have to take classes, and you can do it anytime, anywhere, whenever you have something negative affecting your thoughts. Try it.

Here’s a video by Pamela Bruner that shows exactly what it is. Take a look at what she’s doing and what she’s saying and then substitute what she’s saying for what’s going on in your life. Just look at it, okay?

The Secret was never a secret—

The average person believes that they must go to a doctor to get well. After all, this is what they’ve been brain washed into believing since they were old enough to understand life. Doctors are a staple in our lives for the purpose of feeling good. We as a nation, or better yet, as a world, go to doctors for every little ailment–from a cold to cancer. We rely on our doctors to get us fixed up. We spend billions of dollars and expect these doctors to be God. We go to therapists to fix our minds and listen to what THEY believe is right. People, come on. Doctors are only people who’ve gone to school to get a license to give us their opinions which are solely based on case studies and people-tested remedies. It doesn’t make them gods.

Now I’m not knocking the medical industry. They’ve made tremendous strides in many areas, and can certainly help us. But did you know that you can heal yourself of anything? Oh you didn’t? Then read this.

We aren’t supposed to be sick. We weren’t born to be sick. If our bodies heal cuts and minor illnesses all on their own, without us giving much thought to it, then why can’t we heal other illnesses that are bigger? It’s all in the power of belief and what we were taught to think. I have read dozens of books about the subconscious mind. I have studied anxiety disorders for over twenty years. I have had agoraphobia twice in my life and beat it without drugs, and the second time without any help at all. You see, our thoughts are pure energy which if used improperly can manifest negative outcomes in our lives, including sickness. Most people who suffer from back problems, stomach issues, allergies, anxiety disorders, and even heart attacks are people who have habitual negative thoughts. Now don’t get me wrong. I know these illnesses are real, but it’s our thoughts that are to blame.

Another point that I want to make is this: When we have problems that we don’t want to face or deal with, they manifest as symptoms in our bodies. Inner conflict can show up as a skin rash, acne, back pain, headaches, and even hemorrhoids. And avoidance of dealing with inner conflicts can lead to ulcers, cancers, and other symptoms that are internal that we can’t see. I know that a doctor would debate me on this, and I would expect that. The medical industry has a lot to lose if people educated themselves. Stress is a killer, but it’s how we deal with it and what we think about our lives and ourselves that determine the outcome of our health.

When I was in a full-blown agoraphobic relapse, I was physically sick with stomach aches, heart palpitations, rapid heart rate, panic attacks, depression, and the list goes on. My thoughts everyday were habitual and negative. I kept telling myself I would never get better and that I would end up in a hospital. Once I began to pray and meditate, I began receiving information that led me to the truth and understanding that it’s our negative thoughts that keep us sick. Once I took this information and did more research on the power of the mind and what we can do with it, with the guidance of the other side, I made tremendous strides in becoming well. I turned my negative thoughts into positive thoughts that eventually changed my direction and my health.

Here is a small list of books which had a tremendous impact on me. I took what I could from these books and applied the principals. All of these books have the same premise and that is ‘what you think you shall become’.

The Bible. If you read the Bible, which was written over 2000 years ago, you will see formulas used to overcome the negative thoughts we have. It is written in the Bible that what we believe in we will receive. It is written that what we pray upon will come true. It is written that if we seek we shall find. What this means, if you break it down, is that we have a God given power to manifest every single thing in our lives. Our thoughts, which are energy, move throughout the universe and create either a negative or positive manifestation, depending on if it’s a negative or positive thought. This is a fact.

Another powerful book that I’ve read is The Power of Intention by Dr. Wayne Dyer. Again, a book based on the deliberate intent of thinking in a positive manner.

Two books by Esther and Jerry Hicks. The Law of Attraction, and Money and the Law of Attraction.

Seth Speaks and The Seth Material by Jane Roberts.

Read any book by Deepak Chopra

The Secret; it doesn’t delve into the exact how’s and why’s but it’s a decent platform to begin with.

I’ve read books by scientists and specialists. I’ve taken their theories, applied what worked best for me, and formulated my own ideas. Let me explain something to you. When I got sick, I was so desperate to get well that I did whatever I could to get well. I prayed and meditated and talked to God so much that what I began to notice was that my inner self talk was changing. My words were turning into words of love and appreciation. After all, who talks to God in a nasty tone? So the more I talked to God in my loving way, the more I saw myself feeling better. Because if you really think about it, what you think and say in your head, no matter who you think you’re saying it to, is really affecting YOU. You are actually talking to yourself and absorbing it all. This in and of itself begins the process of thought reprogramming, which in turn will make you think differently, which in turn will change your direction into how you think and handle things.

When you use loving, kind words in your mind or out loud, you begin to believe it. You begin to accept it, and by accepting it, you begin to subconsciously love yourself.

People, this is big. This is deep. You can heal yourself of anything. Read. Read as many books as you can. Learning is the key. Take charge of your life and your health.

Are they freakin’ kidding me ?

Now I’ve seen it all. It’s not even the middle of October and right before my very eyes, what did I see? Christmas decorations! Can you believe that? I’m stunned. It’s not even Halloween. We didn’t get to trick-o-treat. The leaves haven’t turned colors—they didn’t fall to the ground. All the apple trees haven’t been picked and the pumpkins are waiting to be carved. What kind of clueless person puts out Christmas decorations in the first week of October? Seriously. Can someone shed a little insight as to why?

In my mind, we’re still in a summerish type of mode. We’re not into the Fall and we’re not in the Summer. You guys know what I’m saying. It’s ONLY OCTOBER 13th, damn it. Why the Christmas decorations? It’s depressing.
Last year, the same thing happened, but not quite this early. On my street, the Christmas decorations went up after Halloween. That was bad enough. My neighbors skipped right over Thanksgiving as if it didn’t exist. But now, they’ve gone too far. I can’t take it. I know the kiddies can’t wait for Santa, but come on. Let the kids wait. They shouldn’t be so spoiled. The kids need to learn patience and value. What kind of example are we setting if we indulge our kids with immediate gratification every time they whimper? Really! Our generation is messed-up beyond repair. Do we really need to indulge the young ones just to keep them from whining and crying? I can’t stand it.

Why are we rushing through our lives? I want to feel my memories of the summer. I want to keep them fresh and vivid. Time is never gone and it’s never replenished. We all have the same amount. It’s what we do with it that counts. Let’s take a moment to just be. Let’s take a stroll through the countryside and just listen to the sounds of life. Let’s reflect on why we’re here and what it means to be alive. Who gives a s$$t about rushing the holidays just so your kids don’t have a hissy fit? I say screw the kids. Teach them about life. Let them sweat it out. It builds character. It makes them strong. It will make them appreciate who they are. It will make them not take life for granted.

Listen. When you’re young, you think that life will never end. You think you’re impervious to the finality of it. Then you turn 40, and you begin to understand that life does have an ending here on earth. And when you turn 50, you start to keep track of each day, thinking about the things that you should-have and could-have done. Trust me. Life is precious in the physical world. We need to slow down and value each moment. Because just when you think that it doesn’t catch up to you, it does. There’s nothing worse than looking back on your life and regretting the way you’ve lived it.

The One Secret That Will Set You Free

 valentinedefrancis.com

Escaping the clutches of trying to out-do each other
it renders me trapped with no way out
Bars of interwoven thoughts, pure energy made of steel
it seems I can’t will it away
because its hold isn’t of this world

I can only imagine the quiet calm of all that is
I dream of floating on the lake
lavished in wealth and tranquility
my freedom dome,
the gateway to what we call heaven
even if it’s in my own imagination

But lest I give you the power to break me
I can’t be broken
nor will you be able to threaten my world
or tear it down

True freedom resides when you know you have nowhere to go but up; when you’ve sunken so low that you become aware that you have nothing left to lose

True freedom is when you come to grips with the truth that everything you’re afraid of losing has power over you. When you understand this and embrace it, you will begin to let these things go and taste the bittersweet nectar of freedom

When you understand the true nature of what you are and that you leave without your treasures, it will be then, and only then, when you will experience absolute freedom

Peace of mind can be achieved when you let go of an expected outcome and just let your dreams happen. Do what you can, and then give it to God and move on. Expectations of how our lives should unfold is being attached to the expected outcome. We can’t be free if we’re attached. Life can’t flow, if we’re attached. Desires can manifest in ways that we don’t expect, but if we hold on to a set of beliefs of how they will or should appear, we will miss their manifestation if they should appear in a different form.

True freedom isn’t acquired or stored away. It’s a feeling and a knowing that nothing in this world has power over you.

Ballin’ the Jack—Sex right up

When I was about thirteen, the word that was used to describe intercourse was “ballin”.
I don’t know how it came to be, but when someone said that they balled a chick or a dude, it meant that they had sex with them. I know, I know. How did the word ‘ballin’ get mixed up with the song, Ballin’ the Jack? I honestly don’t know. I don’t understand how Ballin’ the Jack came to be. It’s supposed to be the name of a dance, but what kind of dance? The horizontal mambo? *slight snicker*

Okay, I’ll stop being a wise a$$. But seriously, guys. Is the Ballin’ the Jack the same thing as doing the Hokey Pokey? I’m confused.
When I first heard the expression, Ballin’ the Jack, I thought that it meant that someone was having sex with a person who was referred to as a ‘Jack’. Hey, what did I know? You have to remember that I was a teenager in the early 70s. This was the lingo that all the cool people used. They didn’t go around saying, “Yo, dude, I just hit that last night”, referring to a guy having sex with a girl. They used the word, ballin’. But getting back to the song . . . what does ballin’ mean in terms of ballin’ a jack? Seriously. Does anyone out there know why the writer of this song called it ballin’? And what’s a jack?

Why do I have these questions? Is it just me? Don’t answer that.

Ballin’ the Jack

First you put your two knees close up tight,
Then you sway ‘em to the left, then you sway ‘em to the right,
Step around the floor kind of nice and light,
Then you twis’ around and twis’ around with all your might,
Stretch your lovin’ arms straight out in space
Then do the Eagle Rock with style and grace
Swing your foot way ’round then bring it back,
Now that’s what I call “Ballin’ the Jack.”

Music by Chris Smith
Lyrics by Jim Burris
Published 1913

You’re living in a trailer while they get rich off of you

I don’t know how this world got to be so out of balance, but I think everyone needs to take a step back and reevaluate who’s in control. First, I’d like you to answer these few questions.

1–Who puts the president into office?
2–Who makes movie stars and musicians famous?
3–Who shops in all the stores in this country?
4–Who buys gas at the gas stations?

If you’ve answered, WE THE PEOPLE, then you’re half way there. If we can make these institutions rich, and give them power and control, then we can take it away just as easily. It is this nation, as a whole, who’s given the government, the media, the retailer, not to mention the oil refineries, their wealth. We’ve let the government take over our lives. They tax our income and after they tax our income, we have to claim the interest that we earn on our savings. They tax our land, our bridges and tunnels, and they tax our utilities. What isn’t taxed? Now here’s my question. Why are we being taxed on things that have been paid for a thousand times over?

Let’s take the Verrazano Bridge in Staten Island, NY, for example. Now, two years ago, statistics said that on the average, 195,000 cars travel over the Verrazano each day. Now, each year or just about, the cost to cross the Verrazano is raised. It now costs 11 dollars to cross the bridge. If we take 195,000 cars per day and times it by 11 dollars, that would make $2,145,000.00 that the bridge brings in each day. Now, if we take $2,145,000 a day and times it by 365 days in a year then that would be a total of $7,829,250,000.00 HELLLLOOOOOOO? That’s for one year, and I didn’t even factor in vehicles with more than four axles or increase in traffic.
This bridge has been open since 1964. If we allow for population growth and toll increases throughout the years, well, do I really have to spell it out for you? What have they done with all this money? And here’s the kicker . . . Staten Island residents have to pay the toll, as well. The only benefit we get by being a resident is that we pay half price. Well I say phooey! We pay property taxes, city taxes, sneezing taxes, and don’t forget the farting taxes. Isn’t that enough?

I’m sick of seeing money being spent on power struggles. I’m sick of seeing it being wasted on war. I say, screw the war and let’s start taking care of us. We need help. We need to reconstruct the system. We have to help those who are less fortunate. Who gives a shit about fighting? We’re all going to die sooner or later. Why fight over power. It’s just a phallic thing for these assholes.
Come on guys. We are the ones giving these people the power. If we would stick together and exercise our right to choose, they would crumble. Don’t you see? We have choices. We can vote or not vote. We can buy from a retailer or not buy. We hold the power. Think about it. If we exercise our right to choose, they’ll go down. And they will. Because history always repeats itself.

Mustard vs. Mayo

I love mustard. I’ll put it on anything. The tangy, twang that makes my face perspire simply cannot be matched by any other condiment–not even mayo. Now I’m not saying that mayo isn’t good stuff, it is. I’m just saying that I rather have mustard on all my sandwiches. Is that a crime? Well, it seems to be around this neck of the woods. Where I come from, mayo rules. The people I know put mayo on everything–from scrambled eggs to steak sandwiches. I mean, really. That’s just gross. The heat from cooked eggs makes mayo a runny and nasty mess.

I had a male friend who put mayo on oatmeal. Can you imagine? Okay. So what’s with me talking about mayo and mustard today? There was a big thing around my house last night about which is better. I know. We’re pretty pathetic, right? But you see, the boyfriend was making a late night snack, and he put heaping spoonfuls of mayo on his sandwich. I was completely grossed out and told him so. But did he care? Nooo. He looked me right in my face as he gleefully took a monster bite of his sandwich and then laughed when the mayo squirted out from his bread and landed all over the table. AND it was all over his mouth. I don’t have to tell you what it looked like. And he knew it bothered me so he began chewing with his mouth open, displaying the most grotesque mess one could witness.

Gosh, I have so much writing to do, but I couldn’t let this go without an honorable mention–kind of like when I keep talking about nose pickers . . . Oops. Did I mention that again??

Black Friday is a plot, I tellya

Black Friday. Why is the Friday after Thanksgiving called that? Why didn’t they name it Red Friday or Shop-till-you-drop Friday? Does anyone know? Well, I know. The Friday after Thanksgiving, and all the super-duper discounts that the retailers are giving, is a plot. That’s right. It’s nothing more than a psychological plot created by the retailers to ensure that they stay out of the red. Seriously. Are we that naive? The retailers should be giving us these so-called miraculous discounts throughout the year. Maybe if they did, they wouldn’t panic at the end of the year.
They give these tremendous, hurry-to-the-mall, discounts because they’re clearing out all their inventory for the year. In other words, they’re desperate to show an increase on their ledger sheets; whereby, keeping their books in ‘the black’ instead of being in the ‘red’. Get it? They named the Friday after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, as a symbol for staying profitable. Clever. Yes. Now I see. Maybe everyone knows this and I’m the last one to figure it out, but just in case you didn’t know it, now you do.

They have to get up prit-ty early in the morning to get over on this chickie. Hey, wait. They did.

I’m Your Puppet

I see you had no problem finding my strings
you managed to pull me apart
brick by brick
until you found them
And now that you have, you dance me on your stage

lift your left hand high in the air
and I lift mine
I dance to your tune
I bounce
and do a jig
performing at your will

So tell me
what’s my next trick?

his face was pasty white

His face was pasty white—a mixture of no more life and thick face powder. And, for the exception of his heavily painted-on red cheeks and red lips, he looked as if he was fake—a mask made up of stone.
As I stood before the opened casket, I couldn’t comprehend that it was my father lying there. It didn’t look like him but more like a made-up mannequin in a store window. Even his hands looked fake, having been molded into a prayer position; almost as if they were made of plaster— rock hard with not even the slightest hint of blood flowing through them.
Wrapped around his hands were rosary beads. It made him look as though he had fallen asleep while he was in the middle of praying. Suddenly I had to have them. I needed one last thing before they closed the casket and sunk him deep into the ground. A box in the ground; I just can’t accept it. How could it be? How did it happen? One minute, alive and laughing, and the next minute buried, never to be seen again.
I went over to my uncle and whispered to him to take the rosary beads from my father’s hands. He didn’t question why; he understood. After he handed them to me, he signaled to the funeral director to do what had to be done. The casket was closed.

We quietly walked from the limo to where the priest was standing. It was next to the twenty-foot bronze statue of the Virgin Mary—that’s where he was to be buried. As I watched the coffin being lowered into the six-foot hole in the ground, I realized that I’d never see him on this earth again; maybe in heaven one day, if it really existed.
It was my turn to say good-bye. I threw my rose onto the coffin.

“Bye, Dad,” I whispered under my breath. “I’m sorry for the way things turned out. We didn’t have much time together, did we?”

As I walked away, I stopped to look back one more time. Six feet of dirt surrounded the hole, and in just a few minutes, it would block out the light for eternity.

excerpt from Master of the Realm

Kicks keep getting harder to find

You were sad the other day, remember?
She had left a note, she had gone away
And when I didn’t see you at our usual place
I thought it strange,
since you never missed our dates

You used to talk about her and how she would never smile
I used to tell you about him and that he was never around
She ignored your funny jokes, your innuendos, your little pokes
He never had a kind word, or understood my loneliness

Remember when you told me that you spent your whole check on a ring
I reached across the table to hug you, and started to sing
Here comes the groom, all dressed in gloom
Then you threw a French fry at me, missed, and hit the man behind me
We laughed and laughed,
oh the fun we had
Kicks they were

Kicks

So what happened, where’d she go
Do you know ?
What about me, you ask?
let me see
not a hard task
I’ll tell you that he and I are through,
He didn’t love me, and you?
You going to call her, beg her to come back?
Does she really care
was she ever there
did she give you kicks ?

I didn’t think so
same here

THE RAIN, Enigma and Valentine deFrancis Video

MASTER OF THE REALM AT BARNES AND NOBLE

I REPEAT: DON’T QUERY UNTIL IT’S RIGHT

I know it’s been a while, and I’m sorry for my absence during the last couple of months, but I have a reason, I do. I was editing my new novel. Yes, kids, it’s what you have to do if you want to make it in the writing industry. But can we talk? This is important and I believe that it deserves your full attention— drill this into your wittle pee brains: WORD COUNT COUNTS.

After I had edited my novel for months, and thought it was ready for query, I did quite a bit of research about what agents’ want and what would be considered slush pile material. When I learned that word count was a HUGE factor in getting rejected, I went back to my manuscript and performed surgery. My word count for my Adult Thriller was at 148,000, and that was waaaay too many words. I had no choice; I had to make cuts. But I have to admit, cutting the fluff makes for a fast-paced, page turner. When you take away superfluous details, and leave in the meat and potatoes, it makes a difference.
I know many of us love to show off our writing skills and creativity by detailing the crap out of our characters and scene locations. But when you’re limited by word count, and you’re not a New York Times best-selling author, then you have to play by the rules or else you’re OUT!
It’s hard enough to make it in the writing world, but to get your manuscript dumped into the slush pile simply because of word count, well damn . . . that’s one swift kick in the ass that’ll definitely hurt.

So, just when you believe that your manuscript is done, edit one more time. You want to make it the best that you can. Give it your all. And when you think that you’re ready to query, READ WHAT THE AGENT WANTS AND THEN GIVE THEM EXACTLY WHAT THEY ASK FOR. Don’t disillusion yourself into thinking that the agent will make an exception with your 200,000 word YA manuscript, because seriously, they won’t. If you submit something like that, then you’ve just given them the perfect excuse to dump your sorry ass. GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT.

I know, I know. No one said it was going to be easy.

a senior moment

“Where did I put my pen?” I yell, as I start rummaging through my desk. “I had it right here–right next to my phone, and now I can’t find it. This is impossible. Where did it go?”

My best friend, whose name will remain anonymous, stood next to me with her arms folded, shaking her head.

“Ah, Val, it’s behind your ear.”

I put my hands to my head and feel around, and then I pull it out and stare at it. “Man, I can’t believe that I left it behind my ear. I’m losing it.”

My friend just shrugs. “Yeah, well, you better not lose it too much or you’ll end up with a head full of pens, looking like Medusa.”

I start to laugh. “That would be hilarious. Can you imagine the looks I’d get if I walked into Waldbaums with a dozen pens sticking out of my hair?”

My friend starts cracking up. “I’d pay to see that.”

I give her a sideglance. “Yeah, how much?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It depends. Wouldja really do it?”

“Heck yeah. If you pay me enough, I’ll do it. If anyone says anything to me, I’ll tell them that I was having a senior moment.”

“A senior moment?” she says, quite loudly. “With a dozen pens in your hair it would be more like a psychotic moment. They’d have to throw a net over you.”

I shake my head and walk over to the coffee pot and begin to fill it with water. “You want coffee? I’m making it,” I say to her.

“Yes, would love some. So anyway, wouldja really walk into Waldbaums with a dozen pens in your hair?”

I open the cabinet and take down two mugs. “As a joke, I would. It’s not like it would be the first time that I’ve been caught in an embarrassing situation.” I hit the start button on the coffee pot.

“Remember that time I took the bus home from the city . . . and when I got in front of my house my car was gone?”

She burst into hysterics. “Only you could forget that you drove to work and then report your car as stolen.”

“Yeah, the cop didn’t think it was so funny.”

The coffee was almost done brewing. I walked over to it. “Gee, I don’t smell coffee. Do you?”

She lifts her nose into the air and takes a whiff. “No, I don’t smell it either.”

We just stare at each other. “Vallie, did you put the coffee in the filter?”

I shake my head and roll my eyes.
The brewing had finished. I open the lid to the stainless steel carafe and hold my breath. Yep! Hot water.

“So. How do you feel about having tea?”

It was just another one of those senior moments. You know the kind. Like the time you took out the milk to pour in your coffee only you didn’t make coffee. And what about the time when you jumped out of bed to go to work and it was a Saturday? And let’s not forget about the time you took the bus home from work when you drove in that day? I know you know these moments. I know I have. Seriously guys, the pen behind the ear was nothing compared to what I did a few days ago.

Here I was, leaving Costco, and walking to my car. I don’t know what I was thinking but I opened the door to someone else’s car and got in. The lady sitting in the passenger seat started to scream. She scared the S$$t out of me.
“Oh, gosh, lady I’m sooo sorry. I’m not going to carjack you,” I said, trying to calm her down.

“What do you want?” she stammered.

“I got in the wrong car, lady. There’s my car, over there.” I point to it.

“Well, the next time you have to be careful,” she says.

I purse my lips. “Yes, I will be more careful, and so should you.”

“Me? And how do you figure that?” she says defiantly.

“Your door wasn’t locked. Had it been, I wouldn’t have been able to get in the car.”

We just stare at each other.

“Well, I’m going. It was a pleasure talking to you.”

“Okay, bye now. It was nice talking to you too.”

I walk to my car and shake my head. I need to start taking fish oil.

How Can You Tell If You Really Love Yourself

Do you like yourself? Wait. Let me rephrase that. Do you love yourself?

Did you know that you, the creation of God, are supposed to love yourself? Did you know that? Some people are raised to believe that putting everyone’s needs before their own makes them a good person. But that is the furthest thing from the truth. If you think about how God made you, and if you think about how special you are to Him and that you are a part of Him, wouldn’t it make sense that He would want you to love yourself? Because loving yourself would mean that you respect and cherish His work. Think about that for a minute.

To take it a bit deeper, if you don’t take care of yourself and if you are abusing your body and mind, what good are you to your family, friends, and more importantly, to God? If you have children, how can you care for them the right way if you don’t care about yourself? Loving yourself is what we’re supposed to do. That’s right. That means we come first before everyone else, including the kids. We must take care of our physical health, mental health, and our needs. Without these things, how can we care for anyone else? We have to take care of ourselves first because that shows God that we value Him; it also shows Him that we love Him because we understand that He = us, and we = Him. If that sounds confusing it’s not. If He creates, then we are His creations. If He gives us life, then He is our lifelines. So if we don’t put ourselves first then we are neglecting the One who gives us life. We must come first in every aspect.

Now please don’t take this out of its context. I’m not telling anyone to neglect their children or family. I’m saying that unless you love yourself and cherish everyday of your life, how can you teach and give true love to anyone else? Caring about yourself not only means taking care of your mind and body, it also means not taking abuse, as well. When we love ourselves we step away from abusive relationships. We step away from poisonous situations. We tell ourselves that life is too short and that we value the time we have. We examine what we feel and acknowledge that we are entitled to feel it; thereby understanding that we aren’t some anonymous creature who should take a back seat to anything. We are entitled to the abundance of life; each and everyone of us. We are supposed to love ourselves enough to know that love, money, success, friends, health, and well being are our inherent rights. When did this idea about being at the bottom of the barrel mean that we are being Godly? I don’t know what kind of God you know, but the God that I know says that we are to inherit the earth; and I’m getting what’s mine. If you love yourself you would understand this.

If God made this world and all the riches in it, then He made it for those who dare to step out and take it; for those who believe that they are deserving of it. Don’t you see? We aren’t supposed to take abuse from anyone or anything; not even from ourselves. We are made in God’s image, and that image is more than the physical aspect; it’s the mental aspect. We are God, here in the flesh, created to be creators. We must put ourselves first!

Do you love yourself? If you don’t, start reading up on how to learn it. Start praying and asking for divine direction. God wants you to put yourself first; that’s the most important aspect. That shows Him that you love Him enough to keep your connection with Him. When we lose our connection with Him, we lose ourselves. Do you follow me? Loving Him and staying bonded to Him requires that you take good care of yourself, on purpose. And when you do that you can have it all.

Listen, I’m not just spewing some philosophical jibber at you. I have read dozens of books, researched many areas concerning well-being and the mind, I have prayed and meditated on it. I have dug deep to find the truth, and I still am. I will never be satisfied with just one answer. I want to hear it all, know it all, and be it all. And isn’t that what we are here for?

I will continue to read books from the greatest minds of today, and I will take what I can from each book, mull it over, try to practice it, and then form my own theory about how to connect to God, about how to love myself even more, and about how I am deserving of all good things. Now that’s what loving yourself means. Trying to be the best you that you can be. And you owe it to yourself to put you and your needs first–not in a narcissistic way, but in the Godly way.

Hey. I’m a creation of God, and I deserve the best. And I’m worth it!

©valentine defrancis. all rights reserved

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Master of the Realm: How the Spirit World Led Me to My Purpose
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Health care bill–I’M PISSED, AMERICA

I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, but I have to confess, I do not understand what’s going on with our country. Quite honestly, I wouldn’t be the least surprised if a revolution took place. I know that most of us feel that we have little, if not, no control over our places in this UNITED STATES OF AMERICA—aka THE LAND OF FREEDOM! Remember that, kids? Remember when we used to be referred to as the LAND OF THE FREE? So what the hell happened to our freedom? What happened to our Constitutional rights? Did our government toss the Constitution into a pit of fire and do the happy dance around it? I’m seriously fed up. Who died and left Obama in charge? We are one stupid nation, oh yes we are. We put Obama in the control seat and now look at what a mess we’re in: Health CARE BEING FORCED DOWN OUR THROATS??

The health care bill is two-thousand pages long, filled with BS that nobody has read. We should be able to read this two-thousand page bill. It should be available for our perusal. Who knows what’s really inside this bill. I mean, honestly . . . by the year 2014, it will be mandatory for all U.S. citizens to have health coverage. Really? And who’s going to pay for it? People across this nation can’t pay their bills as it is, and now they are being forced into having health care or else they’ll be fined? What kind of shit is that? Yes, I cursed, so what. I want to understand how we, the people, are letting this happen. People say that we have no control over our government? YOOOHOOOOOOO—–we voted our president into office. We the people are totally responsible for the rich getting richer and the government taking away our constitutional rights. Yes, wake the hell up.

The United States of America is the world leader, representing truth and justice and the freedom to pursue dreams and to live freely. What the hell happened? Who the hell does Obama think he is, telling us that we must have health insurance? Let him pay for it out of his presidential pocket if he wants every American to have it. Screw the war, screw the space shuttle, screw the polititians, screw the Ponzi victims (those who still are rich regardless) and screw everything else. We need help now! We, the people, need our government—the very same government that we voted in, to take care of us. Let them put the money where it counts the most–to aiding the economic welfare of the people who make up this nation. Man, I’m seriously pissed. I know this rant was slow in coming, but it just sunk in. We, the people, better do something about this. A revolution? Don’t laugh. It’s happened before.

Why The Law of Attraction Isn’t Working For You

I’ve studied the mind for more than half my life, and I consider myself an expert in the field of anxiety disorders. I’ve conquered agoraphobia twice in twenty-four years with the use of my mind, and I know why our minds do what they do and how to repair the problem. So when I tried to put The Secret into use and was coming up with zero results, I had to know the reason. I prayed and meditated, and asked God to give me the reasons why it wasn’t working for me. And He did. He led me to read many books on the subject, and I now have the answers. I am going to tell you, straight-up, why The Secret, The Laws of Attraction, and any other books you’ve read haven’t worked for you. Here we go.

The reason why these books and courses haven’t worked is because they are witholding the fundamental truth. They’ve selectively omitted certain words that are crucial for the understanding of it. They haven’t used the words, SUBCONSCIOUS BELIEFS, anywhere. They haven’t stated that your core beliefs are responsible for all your manifestations. They haven’t stated that you must find out what these core beliefs are, and then change them, if you want to manifest your desires. The law of attraction is dictated by the SUBCONSCIOUS MIND AND ONLY THE SUBCONSCIOUS MIND. What this means is simple: you can consciously think positive thoughts all day long, but unless your core beliefs (your subconscious) line up with your thoughts and desires, you’re wasting your time and energy. It’s a simple fact that The Secret doesn’t exactly tell you. Yes, The Secret tells you that you have to believe in order for it to work, but it doesn’t tell you that your core beliefs are responsible for what you are manifesting. It doesn’t say that what you believe underneath is how the universal laws are governed.

Take a look at your life. If you’ve been practicing The Secret, and it’s been a few months, and you’re still broke, still over weight, still alone, then something is definitely wrong. If you’ve been thinking wonderful and positive thoughts and nothing’s happened, then you have to ask yourself why. The reason is simple. The law of attraction is a universal law that’s always perfect, either way. It doesn’t discriminate and it won’t give you an argument. If your core beliefs are negative, then you will attract just that. If they’re positive, then you’ll attract just that. This law is constant and never changing. This is how the physical world operates. Your life as you live it, right this very second, is the manifestation of what your subconscious believes. It’s what you believe about yourself and about your life that governs what you’re attracting. So if you were a heavy kid who was constantly ridiculed and made fun of, who didn’t have friends because of your weight, then I can bet that your subconscious belief about yourself is that you’re a fat, no-good loser, who will never be thin and successful. Don’t believe me? The proof is in how you’re living your life. If you’ve been practicing The Secret and still haven’t lost weight, then something is holding back the progress. Your outter life is the result of what your subconscious is dictating–EVERY TIME, EVERY DAY, ALL DAY, NO EXCEPTIONS—EVER.

Now, I know there are hundreds of books, lectures, seminars, and courses that teach the tricks of the trade to get you to manifest your desires more quickly and easily. They want you to pay big money to learn what is inherent in each of you. You each hold the knowledge and key to healing yourselves and to reaching your goals and dreams. So why are these gurus making billions of dollars? Because they know the deal and are dangling the carrot in front of your noses, desperately trying to get you to buy their products. I’m all for making money; we have to have money. But here’s what gets me: people across the world need help. We need each other. If I can help you change your life, I’m going to, without charging you. I’m a writer and I write books. Yes, I want to make money off my books. That’s my career. And if I’m writing fiction or truth, I’m giving you my all–no holds bar. But claiming that you’re trying to help people, and are only giving them PART OF THE CURE, well, to me, that’s equivelent to foreplay without the main event. We need help from people who truly want to help us. I know that these gurus want to make their money, but they should be telling you everything . . . all the words, all the key points, not just a piece of the puzzle, leaving you wondering what you’re doing wrong.

Listen, you’re not doing anything wrong. All you need to do is start digging into your life. Begin by being honest with yourself about how you really feel about life and about yourself. Write it down and really examine it. When you unmask the truths about how you feel about money, success, love, and your body, then you can begin to change these negative core beliefs with positive affirmations and meditations that will reprogram those damaging negative beliefs into constructive positive beliefs. And when you begin to change your core beliefs, which nine out of ten times aren’t true, which were planted by circumstances and good meaning parents, you can then start the process of deliberate intention of manifesting good things.

You’ve been searching for answers everywhere. You’ve spent countless hours online, looking at web sites that are trying to sell you their products. You click on the site, and then scroll through five pages of promises, only to have you hanging at the end. They don’t divulge the answers. So you buy the product and are still left with questions. Don’t you find it amazing how all these gurus are coming out of the woodwork promising you that they know what The Secret didn’t tell you? And most of these gurus were mentioned in The Secret! Why didn’t they tell us everything in the book?

Listen, please. This is coming from my heart. Deliberate manifestation will not work if what you’re wishing for is going against what you believe deep inside. I repeat: THE LAW OF ATTRACTION WILL NOT WORK, IT WILL NOT WORK, NO MATTER WHAT, NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE, IF YOUR WISHES ARE GOING AGAINST WHAT YOU BELIEVE ABOUT YOURSELF.

ARE THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF NEW YORK FOR REAL ?

I never thought that I would be saying this, let alone be writing about it, but *deep breath* I’ve become addicted to Bravo’s Real Housewives of New York. I know, I know. It’s awful and embarrassing, but at least let me explain.
First of all, I’m a Hamptons buff. I love the place. I love its history, the beaches, the fields, the homes . . . its alluring mystery. I can’t get enough of it. So when I found out that The Real Housewives of NY is partly filmed in the Hamptons, I had to watch it. Anyway, once I started to watch the show, I was shamefully drawn into how these ladies were acting towards each other. I COULD NOT BELIEVE all the backstabbing, the whispering, the finger pointing, the jealous gossip, the smear campaigns—OMG! Is that what money does to people? Or should I say, *Luann, this is for you, girl* CAN MONEY BUY YOU CLASS? Obviously it can’t. I believe Luann de Lesseps’ new dance hit is quite apropos, considering how juvenile and bitchy this rich group is. BTW, I’d refer to Luann as “Countess”, but to be a “Countess”, one would at least have to be married to a Count. So anyway, where was I? I posted a picture of THE HOUSEWIVES, up above. They’re a good looking bunch, aren’t they? So what makes them so miserable? They have money. They have success. They have tons of celebrity friends. They have loving families. So why are they so bee-och-ee? And Jill Zarin? Well, when I’m watching Jill Zarin about to pull one of her ‘poor me, I’m a victim’ routines, I’m actually on the edge of my bed talking to her: Jill, don’t do it. Don’t do it, Jill. Don’t go there. You’re doing it. Jill, you did it. WTF is wrong with you, woman?

So here’s my question. Are the ladies putting on an act for the sake of ratings, or are they really that mean and petty? Somebody tell me, please? Because I have to admit, these ladies are the kind of ladies that you just love to hate. They’re great!!!

Entourage’s Ari Gold, Where the Hell Are You

I’m a snob–I admit it; and I pride myself on that fact. I’d like to believe that I have discriminating taste when it comes to food, books, and TV; and yet, I find myself shamefully addicted to two shows that I normally would NEVER consider watching. The first, as you may already know, is The Real Housewives of New York, which, if I had the chance, I’d love to rewrite. (and don’t tell me that it’s not scripted just a little)
But getting back to why I’m writing this article—I have a confession. *deep breath* I love Ari Gold. Yes, I know, don’t lecture me. I love him, I do. If loving him is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. If you don’t know his character, Ari Gold is a super successful Hollywood agent played by Jeremy Piven in the HBO series, Entourage. Now don’t go judging me and saying that I’m a loser. I’m not. It’s just that Ari is so damn hot, and he’s so real, and plays the part to perfection. It’s because of him that I now find myself in this predicament. Entourage has me so hooked that just the other night, I watched twenty shows, back to back, and still couldn’t get enough.

When Entourage first aired, I wasn’t the least bit interested. It was a hyped up, yo yo yo bro, badboy player show, focused on the glitzy, druggy, partying lifestyles of celebs. And as out of character as it is for me to be interested in a show such as this, I fell in love with Jeremy Piven’s role as Ari Gold. Jeremy Piven is so freakin’ fantastic in this part that he should have his own show. . . maybe a spinoff of Entourage called, The Real Agents’ of Hollywood and Their Assistants. Ari Gold’s assistant, Lloyd, played by Rex Lee, makes the show. Between his funny gayass self, and Ari’s comments such as, “Lloyd, get in here. I want to tongue kiss you,” man, lol, it’s just the best damn show on TV. Yep, I gotta say that Jeremy Piven is Hollywood’s best kept secret. He’s such a powerful presence on the screen that he should be playing lead roles in big movies. And kudos to the rest of the Entourage cast, and to Mark Wahlberg and Stephen Levinson, as the show’s co-producers. It’s a dynamite show. So I want to know one thing: Ari? Where the hell are you? Get your cute, badass, screamin’-mimi-self back to work–and Lloyd, that includes you too. *smoothing hair and taking a deep breath*

So, did I mention that I’m a snob with a discriminating palate?
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Behind the Hedgerow

I struggle to capture this moment. Somehow, words just don’t seem to fit the picture. There aren’t any syllables that I can utter to paint this scene so that you can understand what’s going through my mind. How do I make you connect to me–to my feelings? How can I explain the way my heart beats and how the pounding drum can be heard for miles within my soul? How do I tell you about all the music that my ears hear; the symphonies that blend with the whispers of the wind; a sanction of which flutes cannot compare to; and the singing of birds whose echo could be heard from branch to sea? For its blue and white sail, arched ever so slightly, now fills me with a serenity that I can’t explain. Its body glides peacefully and effortlessly across the bay of polished glass; and as I study its form from where I’m sitting, less than a quarter of a mile away, behind the wheel of my two-seater pickup, I close my eyes and feel its freedom.

A seagull suddenly lands on the rocks, and it’s obstructing my view; his yellow beak chomping on bread that was tossed by an elderly couple standing a few feet away. He finished what he had and then ruffled his feathers in one voluntary shudder, turning his head in all directions looking for something more to eat. He finally flew away, now leaving an open space where I could see a parade of boats. Where they came from baffles me because only minutes before, I was gazing at one single sail, and now my quiet haven has turned into a sea of mooring rights.

I struggle to tell you this, searching for the right words, when a car pulls up next to me sporting three zealous teenagers talking loudly about how they almost fell off the rocks while fishing; and I lose track of what I’m thinking.
I have to admit that I’m amused as they chatter their mumbled dialogue, not being able to fully decipher the meaning of their conversation between their laughter and their yo’z. And I become distracted, once again, and wonder why I came here in the first place when I could be behind the hedgerows of lost time; my solitary confinement of silence and magical freedom.

An old man struts by wearing a black and white speedo bikini, his sagging, tanned leather skin shines from suntan oil. His head boasts beads of sweat; like stars in the night they glisten, and I wonder what will happen to me when I get to be his age–if I ever do.

Could any moment in space be as peaceful as it is now? Even with the bustle that’s happening around me, I can manage to remain in my little world–the only place where I’m at peace and where nothing matters. I know that my comfort awaits me behind the hedgerows.

The first sail boat that I had seen is now coming back, and its curved stance dots the shoreline like a graceful ballerina who is doing a pirouette–never tipping, never wavering; it glides like a seagull riding a thermal, effortlessly; just moving with the world; existing the way it should.

Behind the hedgerow is where my desire comes to fruition. My thoughts have no bars holding them back. I climb the steps to the heights of my dreams, where I sit for hours in my tower, gazing over the sea and its endless promise to never leave me. Gin Lane is perched splendidly on the highest of dunes; an ethereal castle of infinite rooms; where my soul walks corridors that are endless, searching for the one truth that exists.

when there’s nothing left

her mind consumed with ideas
quiet conversations
beyond the comprehension of others
reading words
studying truths,
being tested by the best
nevertheless
she passes

and when the day is done
she wonders what will become of all her efforts
exhausted
depleated
she closes her eyes to let it all go

but when ?
she begs to know

faith . . . does it matter
being pushed to the edge
backed into a dead end with no way out
she claws her way up
relentless to get to the top
and just when she believes there isn’t an opening
she finds one

 

This is a MUST, if you want to get your health back

Forgiving isn’t easy. In fact, it’s probably one of the hardest things to do. When someone has lashed out at us, or betrayed us, we get this anger that rushes through our bodies and into our heads, and the first thing we think is that we’ll never talk to that person again. Isn’t that the truth? So we harbor this resentment, and keep our anger towards this person in the forefront of our minds; after all, we have the right to be pissed at this person, and we have every right to show it. Don’t we? How dare they betray us! How dare they say those horrible things! We’re going to stay mad at them, and we’re not giving in. And we’re going to tell everyone we know about what this person had done to us and how they’ve ruined our lives. And we’re going to let it fester, and bubble, and grow, until it’s the biggest event since the birth of Jesus. AND WE WON’T CAVE! WE HAVE OUR GOD-GIVEN RIGHT TO STAY PISSED.
I know that anyone reading this has been there and done that. So here’s the deal. I’m going to break this down and hopefully dissect this so that you can understand why forgiving is the best thing you can do for yourself. Yes, for you–not for the person who has hurt you.

I always thought that forgiving someone would let the other person off the hook–that the person would think that whatever they had done was no big deal and that they had gotten away with hurting me. And this was my belief for most of my life. And when someone hurt me, I kept that anger alive and held onto it for years. But several years ago, when my connection to the other side was made, I was shown the truth about what happens to our minds, bodies, and to our lives when we don’t forgive.
Anger serves a purpose. It tells us that we’re off track with who we are. It tells us that someone invaded our right to be right. It tells us that someone humiliated us–disregarded our feelings–without caring. But why do we get so angry? Cheating, abandonment, and betrayals are big offenses towards the ego. When it happens to us, we’re crushed. And we’re supposed to feel the anger. Our anger was given to us as a guide. We’re supposed to acknowledge it, question why we’re so offended and hurt, and then let it go. But why?

Anger means that someone stepped into our egotistical space and challenged us. If you’ve studied the ego, you’ll learn that our ego wants to play the role of God, here on earth. It believes that it has full control. But it’s a facade. Ego is a defense mechanism, and according to the way we were raised and according to our core beliefs, the ego’s job is to protect our beliefs—regardless if our beliefs are on or off the actual truth. So when someone invades our ego’s space and does something that we have no control over, we torment ourselves because we can’t believe that we weren’t clever enough or intelligent enough to catch-on to the betrayal. We can’t get over the idea that another person would think that we weren’t good enough. But here’s the catch. Now listen very carefully. When someone does something to hurt you, it’s not you who they are attacking. It’s not about you–ever. They are thinking of themselves and what’s good for them. It’s their ego that is feeling crushed or bruised, and so, they will do whatever they have to do to repair it; and nine times out of ten that means seeking immediate gratification to boost the way they feel, regardless of who they’re hurting. It’s not about you. It’s never about you. It’s always about the other person. So it’s like a chain reaction. Each human is out for themselves. Yes! It’s a fact. No matter how you slice and dice it, the bottom line is that each human puts their needs first. They have to. It’s the way the physical world was created.

Now, when we don’t forgive, it affect our bodies and our minds. It causes mental and physical ailments. It’s been proven. Anger causes heart attacks, cancers, back aches, anxiety disorders, panic attacks, and the list is endless. So listen. If you understand what anger does to you, why keep it? You want to feel good every day of your life. You want to be happy and healthy. You want to live your one life the way it was meant to live. You come first in the eye of God. It’s your God-given birth right to create a spectacular life for yourself by learning about who you are and how you can pick and choose what’s best for you. Listen up. You can choose to not let someone’s betrayal affect you. It’s a choice. And it’s a great thing to be able to choose to let it go or not let it go. By letting it go, and understanding that people are people doing whatever they have to do to get through the day, then you’ll understand that it’s never about you. It’s always about them. And if you really think about it, even you do what you have to do–every single time. You may think that you’re being unselfish by putting someone’s needs first, but deep down, you’re putting someone’s needs first because you want them to like you. This is deep. This is huge. This is worth learning and accepting. When you learn about who you are and why you are and why you’re here, you can learn to forgive. Let the anger go. It’s never really about you. It may seem that it is, but it’s the other person’s insecurities than drive them to do what they do. You were just in the way of the bullet. Let it go. Look to God and He’ll show you the way. I swear this to you. Dissect your anger and learn the reason why you’re really mad and then ask God to help you. Do it for you, because you come first, and because you’re worth it.

Read Master of the Realm if you want to read a story of hurts and betrayals. If I can forgive, you can forgive.

I Lived Two Centuries Ago

I could see from where I was standing that the sun was just peeking over the water’s horizon. It looked as though a blaze of orange was emerging from the ocean; almost as if God was pulling it up by invisible strings. 
The smell of the salty, warm sea air, as I breathed in deeply, reminded me of when I was a little girl, when my family used to have picnics on the shores of Long Island. No memory could compare to those days of freedom; nothing could come close to the feeling of the security that I felt when I was with my mother and father. 

I poured myself a cup of freshly brewed coffee, and let the screen door slam behind me as I proceeded to walk onto the beach. There wasn’t anyone around but me; the silence was welcomed, even in spite of the ocean’s roar. It was as if it was saying something to me; taunting me with each rush it made to the shoreline. I took a sip of my coffee and reveled in its hazelnut sweetness, and thanked God to be having the experience that I was having at that precise moment.

The sky was violet; I say violet to emphasize the clarity of its blueness. White formations floated above, making me think that something as beautiful as this could only be appreciated when you appreciate life—when you step away and let yourself be. My dreams are like the clouds—forever and ethereal, and they remind me that I am more than this space that I occupy.

Closing my eyes, and letting myself be, allows me to align with Him; my thoughts are of pureness and deep revelation; a contentment which goes deeper than any gratification could offer. It’s a freedom from this world. It’s a flight of my senses that goes beyond fleshly recognition.

I began to walk; my feet sinking deeply with each step I took. Seashells stared up at me, begging for my attention. The tiny, white ones were the ones that I picked up because the sun had made them glisten, like tiny diamonds. Nowhere in my world is there a place as perfect as this. A lifetime ago made itself known, just as it always does. The memory never leaves me when I set my imagination and soul free from these prison walls called now. 

A black and yellow butterfly graciously floats past me, and then lands on the sand a few feet ahead. And as I get closer to it, it lifts off in slow motion and gently brushes against my arm. Seagulls fly above; their cries bring me back to that time, and again, I can’t remember when that was. I only know that I was there and that I would never forget it.

My soul will never be complete. It hungers for yesterday and begs for tomorrow. It searches for newness, yet seeks the comfort of familiarity. Gin Lane is where I once lived over two centuries ago.

 

YO, Adrianne. That’s right. I have a New York Accent

I’m Valentine deFrancis, and I’m a writer from New York. Today, I would like to talk to you about stereotypes and how a typical New Yorker is stereotyped as, well, not so bright. Now I know that TV and movies depict New Yorkers as sausage eating, money hungry, pushy, arrogant, gangster-leaning types, but of all those things, what gets me the most is how our intelligence is based upon our accents. It’s true.  Hey, listen. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. Yeah. That’s right. Brooklyn—the pizza capital of the world; the place where John Travolta struts his bad-ass self in Saturday Night Fever. Yep, that’s where I was raised. But here is where the whole thing starts going uphill. People naturally think that New Yorkers are not sophisticated because we have that accent. Know what I mean? Let me educate you on our wordage, if I may.

The entire U. S. says the word coffee as follows:  caa fee

A New Yorker says  caw fee.

The entire U. S. says the word water as:  waa ter

A New Yorker says  waw ta

The U. S. says hello

A New Yorker says yo, whas up?

The U. S. says, forget about it.

A New Yorker says fuhgeddaboudit

The U. S. says, thirty third and third

A New Yorker says tirdy tird and tird

But people, does that make us stupid?

I was speaking to some friends from Myspace on the phone and each one of them giggled at my accent. Each one of them said, “Gee Val, I never expected you to sound so New Yorkish.”
Heck, people. What the hell am I supposed to sound like? A Frenchie? A Brit? A Korean? I’m a New Yorker! I’m supposed to sound this way, but that doesn’t negate my brilliance. Did I mention that New Yorkers are also very modest?
Just because I have this Brooklyn accent doesn’t mean that I was raised in a cabbage patch. Oh contrare, my lovelies. This Brooklyn native is quite intelligent and more than on her toes. You have to wake up prit-ty darn early to get over on me or any New Yorker for that matter. Get a load of this little diddy that happened two days before I flew out to Vegas last week.

I went online to purchase my plane tickets, and I happened to notice that you can buy extra leg room for $30.00 per person. I’m 5’7″, and the boyfriend is 6″, so I say to myself . . . great. I’ll buy the seats with the extra leg room. Who cares about the $30.00 per person. I need to be comfortable when I’m flying. Of course, my boyfriend doesn’t care where he sits because he’s a commercial pilot, and he’s used to sitting anywhere. So I buy the seats with the extra leg room.

Twenty-four hours before my flight, I print the boarding passes, and I see a little notation that advertises the extra leg room seats for $10 per seat. I say to my New York self, WTF? They ain’t rippin’ me off. So I call them, and this is the brilliant answer I get.

JetBlue, my name is Betty, how can I help you today?

Yes, I purchased two seats to Las Vegas, and I paid $30.00 per person for the extra leg room seats. I just printed my boarding passes and noticed that you are now selling the extra leg room for $10.00 per seat. I want my account credited for $40.00.

Let me check that for you ma’am.

I tap my pen and begin to softly hum, and then she comes back on the line.

Ms. deFrancis, the reason you were charged $30.00 per seat is because you have a longer flight time.

I laugh out loud.

Let me get this straight. I am charged more money for the same seat because I will be on the plane for an hour more? What kind of nonsense is that?

Well, Ms. deFrancis, if you think about it, it makes sense.

Oh it does, does it? Explain how.

Well, your legs will be stretched out for a longer duration, she says.

I bulge my eyes and shake my head, wondering if I heard her correctly.

Repeat that again?

Yes, Ms. deFrancis. Because you are using the plane’s seat longer, we charge you more.

I stare at my refrigerator for approximately 3 seconds before my New York attitude kicks in. Where are you located, Betty?

I’m located in Utah, she says.

Hmmm, Utah. Well, let me tell you something, Betty, from Utah. Do you expect me to buy that line of shit? Is that what JetBlue tells you to tell your customers, or are you just winging it? I have never been so insulted. What kind of crap is that? The plane and the seats are still the plane and the seats whether I fly to Florida or Vegas. So you’re saying that because I stretch my legs for 2 hours more, I’m charged for it?

Well, umm, yes Ms. deFrancis. That’s our policy.

DO YOU HONESTLY EXPECT ME TO FALL FOR THAT LINE OF HORSE HOCKEY?

Ummm, I can see you’re upset, she says.

No Betty, I’m not upset. I’m insulted at your pathetic attempt to demean my intelligence with that absurd answer.

She giggles.

I hang up on her.

Now people, tell me. Did that make any sense to you? I may have a New York accent, but I don’t hear with an accent. Geesh, give me a break!

Okay, I was thinking . . .

Yes, I was thinking.  Now don’t roll your eyes at me. All I want is for you to just hear me out. Okay?  So . . .

Every element of life is made of energy; and this includes humans and their thoughts. Energy exists in two states: the positive charge and the negative charge. The reason for this is to provide balance.
Now, the universe is dictated by balance; therefore, being at zero would make all things neutral. It would look something like this.

                                                Positive             neutral             Negative

                                       +1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9          0           -1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

I believe that everything in life must be balanced at “zero” to sustain existence in the physical world. What that means is that if too much negative charge is placed on a cell, it will falter into destruction and die off sooner than it should. If too much positive energy is placed on a cell, the result will be the same. So, there must always be a balance, which simply means that all living matter must sustain a “zero” or neutral state to stay healthy and alive.

To take this a step further . . .

Scientists know that to utilize electricity there must be the right amount of negative and positive charge to make it work. People who own pools must use a PH chemical to balance the acid level in the water. When the PH chemical is added to the pool water, it’s balancing the alkaline level to a “zero” state.  Another way to look at it: many electronics run on batteries. If the battery doesn’t get enough positive energy stored into it, it dies. We know that to bring it to life, we must charge it, and by charging it, it is absorbing the opposite energy flow. We are bringing it back to life by putting the battery at a “zero” balance.

So I’m thinking that if all of life is energy, then that means that every cell is affected. Now, we know that our thoughts are pure energy. Stay with me on this. How do our bodies stay alive? What is governing our cells to sustain life? What is causing our cells to react? This may be debatable, but I know that our thoughts are controlling the cells in our bodies.  Our inner self, or God, combined with the brain, is what keeps our bodies alive. We communicate with God and with our inner self through the state of consciousness. When we’re conscious, we think; and when we think, we generate a ton of energy. And if thoughts are pure energy and control our cells, then a negative producing thought will literally overcharge our cells with a negative charge. In time, that will render the body into illness. It will also render our lives into disaster, because energy attracts the same energy. Now, if we know that our negative thoughts are affecting our cells with negative charge, then we can switch our thoughts to a nicer feeling thought to reverse the process. Doing this for several days will charge the cell and keep it going—or put it at a balanced state. So, can it be as easy as that?

Here’s what came to me. When I don’t feel good, it’s my body’s way of telling me that I’ve let my negative thinking go on for too long and now I’m paying the price. The symptoms are there so that I can take the action to fix them. If we can take 15 minutes, three times a day, and visualize ourselves plugging our bodies into a monster-sized electrical outlet, and recharging it, can we bring healing into our bodies?  At the same time, if we stop thinking negatively, and put a positive spin on our thoughts, will it begin to reverse the cells energy and bring them into balance?

If healing ourselves is really that simple, and something tells me that it is, then why haven’t the scientists figured this out? They already know that the universe is pure energy, and that to sustain it, there must always be balance. Too much of anything in either direction causes disaster. So, it’s crucial for us to make the effort to learn about what we are and what we’re made of. Not many people take the time to figure out why they’re here, let alone to figure out the answers to the other questions. But if people could just understand that life is about balance, and that balance is a must to sustain good mental and physical health, then that’s when the healing would begin.

 We make the effort to balance our waters, and our food systems, and our atmosphere. Why haven’t scientists figured out that the human body is no different than any of these systems? If we know that our cells are affected by our thoughts, then we have to choose our thoughts very carefully so that we can stay balanced!

I don’t know about you, but it makes total sense to me.

Toast with gobbs of salted, melted butter

 

I love toast with butter. Don’t you? I can eat a dozen slices of that salty, buttery yumminess. And the bread? It can be any type of bread–makes no difference to me. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was so damn fattening, I’d eat it every day. Picture it. When the toast is done, it pops up from the toaster–all golden brown and hot. You grab it quickly so you don’t burn your fingers. Then you throw that bad-boy onto a plate and slather it with gobbs of creamy, salty, softened butter. And as you spread the buttery wonderment, you watch it melt . . . and ooze . . . and drip onto the plate. You have to eat it right then or else you will die. Two bites! And then it’s gone.
You look back at the toaster, and then you look over to the bread–the butter is sitting between the two, minding its own business, and you have to fight off the temptation to make four more slices. Dear God, help me!

I have a confession. Some days, I get out of control, and I smear on raspberry jam, too. The saltiness of the butter combined with the sweetness of the jam should be outlawed. Dear Father, why did you make me a fat-mobile?

But then something occured to me. As I stare at the bread, I begin to wonder if toasting it reduces the calories. I mean, does toasting do something to the molecular structure of the bread, which in turn, disintergrates the glucose; whereby, making it carb-free?

It does, correct? Okay then. I think I’ll have another slice.

Hitting Rock Bottom

I believe that there is one commonality that every human shares and that’s the need to know why we’re here. Throughout the history of man, the search to find the truth about God and about life after death has been never-ending. Our need to connect to our divine source is inherent. God wants us to learn about Him through physical human experiences. He created man in His image so that man could step outside of his natural state of spirit and experience the elements of which He is made.

In our natural state of spirit, we’re non-physical; therefore, we’re unable to experience physical negativity–we’re detached. But despite being in this spirit state, we’re also not complete. We’ve yet to evolve to our full enlightenment. In spirit state, and what I mean by spirit state is what we become after we die, we may not have earthly worries, but our goal is to create new realities so that we can experience new possibilties so that we can learn new lessons . . . to arrive at new answers. As spirit, we need to actualize our consciousness. It’s what we are. It’s how we were created. Therefore, to continue evolving, we must keep coming back to the physical world to learn new lessons.

So why did God make it this way? I can only speculate that He wants it this way because He created balance. Living in this world has taught us that there is a positive and a negative to every element of creation. Having said that, if we are to experience all of life, the sorrow, the pain, and the joy, then these aspects must be a part of who our divine source is. Again, I can only speculate that these are the reasons.

In my search for the truth about God, I’ve uncovered a perception that suits my comprehension. I believe that we were created in spirit and lived many physical lives. We may have had a different human form for each life we lived, but it’s one soul which has lived all of these lives and who returns to source when that life is over. So if this is the case, then for each life we have there must be a way to connect to God. It’s innate, and it lies under layers of consciousness. It’s there to be called upon—-to be tapped into. And the way to do it is through praying and meditating. The greatest thinkers and researchers can’t be wrong. The Bible can’t be wrong. I can’t be wrong. I’v experienced God first hand; therefore, I can’t be anything but certain. But many people haven’t experienced God. They talk about God; they talk about spiritualism and how they believe, but are they really connected?

When you’re connected to God there’s a feeling in your gut that is similar to confidence. You feel happy. You feel right. You’re unstoppable because you know there’s a purpose. Your state of mind is clear and you have a positive attitude. You smile and feel more at ease. You’re quick to overlook the ignorance of others and you understand that life isn’t all about you. You have empathy and compassion. But what happens when you’re not in sync with God?

Hitting rock bottom is when you’re in total discord with who you are; it’s like having your connection to God severed. Having every facet of your life turn against you simply means that you are apart from your divine source. Losing your job, your spouse, your material possessions, your zest for life, and your mental and physical well being is the result of being unconnected to God. Yet, for many, as these avalanches of mishaps take place, we still don’t realize that it’s happening because of our separation from God. We’re quick to blame others. We’re quick to blame society. But the truth is it’s our negative thinking and our negative core beliefs that put us at the rock bottom level. When our negative thinking gets out of control, our lives get out of control; we feel helpless and powerless.

Did you ever notice that those of us who hit rock bottom suddenly call on God for help? I find it hypocritical that the one thing we suddenly reach for when we’re desperate is the same one thing that we’ve shunned when the going was good. What a coincidence, isn’t it? So what does that say? It says that we will surrender to God at some point in our lives. Do you think that He didn’t know what he was doing when He made us this way? Please . . . get real. God is ever knowing and way smarter than you or I will ever be.

I connect to God every day. I make it a point to take time out to talk to Him. I do it for many reasons, but the main reason I do it is because when I do it, I feel so much better. If I’m having a real crappy day–a day where I’m doubtful and sad–I start talking to Him and then the next thing I know, I’m feeling so much better. It’s hard to explain. I only know that I feel like a load has been lifted. I can wake up each day knowing that I can turn inward to my divine source and get relief. I can get comfort. To me, that’s the best deal around. And it doesn’t cost a cent. It’s for free.

I know rock bottom. Been there—done that—and wrote the book. Trust me on this one. There’s only one way to go when you’re this low, and all you have to do is grab onto His hand.

The Top 5 Reasons Why People Lie

Image by THEfunkyman via Flickr

Okay. So why the list? I think it’s been on my mind lately; not because I’m a liar and I have a need to purge my guilt, but because I’ve been studying people’s actions and came upon these conclusions. We all have lied at some point in our lives, and I can only assume that most of us will continue to do so—for whatever reasons. But why?

After sitting on the beach this weekend, staring into the silvery light of the Atlantic Ocean, with the clouds blending slowly, and the peace of my own mind comforting me, I had a thought. Thoughts that come upon us while in deep reflection, usually surface for a reason;  maybe to help with inner conflict or maybe to help someone else. So, without further ado, here’s my list of reasons for why people lie. See if you fit one or all of these descriptions. I know I have . . . at various times in my life.

Reason One  A friend, relative, or co-worker asks you how they look, and you don’t have the heart to hurt their feelings. Now, if I can say something here. Not wanting to hurt a person’s feelings is an admirable quality. It is. That means that you have a heart. But what if this person asks you a question because they value and treasure your opinion? Sticky, right? Well, here’s what I’ve begun doing several years ago when I made the decision that lying went against my beliefs. I decided to be tactful in telling the truth. There’s a way to handle telling a person the truth without being cruel. Of course, the person may still get offended, but hey, you can’t live your life tiptoeing around everyone’s fragile ego, right? If a person wants your honest opinion, then by golly, you have to give it to them. Just use some tact when doing so. Here’s an example:

Sally says to her best friend, “I just love this red skirt. Does it make my ass look too big?”
Now, you know damn well that the skirt looks horrendous on Sally. Not only does it make her ass look fat, it makes her ass look like the surface of the moon. So how do you handle telling her the truth? Maybe you could say something like this: “I love the skirt, but you know, I don’t think it does your figure any justice. Red isn’t the color that makes you shine. How about black? You look great in black.”
I know it’s skirting the truth, but you answered her, didn’t you? I don’t think she’d really want to hear how fat her ass is. Of course, if she looks you dead in the eye and says, “I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth, you’re my best friend,” well, you have to tell her, but you can do it carefully. You can say, “Well, maybe the skirt is a little too tight?” and then wince.

Reason Two You’re invited to a party, an affair, or some kind of gathering and you don’t feel like going. There could be many reasons for not wanting to go. Now, here’s where it gets iffy. If you know the person very well and you still don’t want to go, then you should offer the reason. But if your reason for not wanting to go is because you find this person, and her friends, boring, then what do you say? Do you say you have other plans? Do you call at the last minute and say that your aunt suddenly died? What do you do? I’ve found that asking the person if I could let them know, works out well. When they ask me why, I simply tell them that I’m not big on parties and that I would like to give it thought. It’s the truth and it shows the inviter that I’m being sincere. It’s better than calling five minutes before the gathering and saying that Rover ate the tires on my car.

Reason Three  You see someone whom you’re attracted to . . . and you’re either married or in a relationship. You’re so attracted to them that you begin the flirting game. Before you know it, you’re making a date with this person. You begin sneaking around and lying to your significant other. But why are you doing this? And why the lies? By lying in a situation like this, it says one or several things: that you want your cake and eat it too; you want to see if there’s anything better and if there is, you’re going to drop the bomb on your significant other; you’re afraid of telling your partner the truth for fear that they’ll leave you and then get a lawyer. There’s many reasons for lying when you’re in a situation like this, but the main reason is fear. But fear of what, is what you have to ask yourself?

Reason Four  People have low self-esteem and want to impress others. Now this is up-there in the lying chain. Let’s be honest. How many times have you felt the need to exaggerate, just a little, your life’s journey to others? You get in a group of successful people and suddenly you feel like a failure. So when asked about your profession, instead of telling them that you’re a shoe salesman in Macy’s, you say that you’re the manager in the entire men’s department. Um, just a widdle, iddy, biddy lie, eh? But seriously, I think we’ve all done this OR we may have avoided answering the question all together . . . WHICH may be better than lying. Then again, what’s wrong with saying the truth? What happens to our egos when we come face-to-face with humiliation? Think about it.

Reason Five  We’re afraid of someone’s reaction—to ANYTHING. I think this is the granddaddy of the list. If you’re lying about everything, then it’s time for the couch. Seriously.  I’ll elaborate on this.

The premise behind lying, about anything, is fear. There isn’t any other reason. The fear of another person’s reaction is what drives people to lie. The fear of the consequences for their actions makes them lie. It’s always fear that causes a person to say an untruth. Don’t let yourself believe anything else. When you lie to someone, it’s because telling them the truth will either get you in trouble or get you in jail OR you’ll have someone mad at you or you’ll have something taken away from you. Lying is the biggest symptom of fear and the worst part about it is that we lie to cover up for our insecurities. Think about that one and ask yourself, why do I lie?

Related Articles

• You Are a Secret Conspiracy Theorist (lewrockwell.com)
• Dealing with Compulsive Liars (socyberty.com)

when to admit that you’re no longer cool

Something very scary happened to me the other day, and I feel that it definitely deserves mentioning. While adventuring through the town of East Hampton, New York, I heard a loud, “Val? Val deFrancis?”
I swiveled my head in ten directions and then I spotted a friend whom I hadn’t seen in years, who had gotten married and moved away. As we hurried toward each other, laughing and screaming like a bunch of valley girls, two really, really, I mean really, hot guys walk past us. With one eye on them and the other on my friend, we embraced and jumped up and down as we jibbered our hellos.

“Oh my God, it’s been forever. How the hell are you?” she says.

“I’m doing great,” I say, “and you? Gosh, I cannot believe that I’m seeing you here. Are you alone? Where’s the hub?”

“No, I’m with my twin boys.”

I could actually feel my eyes stretching beyond their normal limits. “You had twins? And you never called to tell me?”

“I know, I know. I’m so bad. What can I say? Life just got in the way. Forgive me?”

“Yeah, I forgive you. It did the same for me too. So, where are your boys? Is Josh watching them?” Josh is her husband.

She waves her hand at me and laughs. “No, silly. They’re over by Babette’s. I’ll call them over.”

I turn to see where she’s looking, and I turn back. “Where?”  I’m expecting to see two little boys with their nanny or grandmother or something.

“Right there”, she says, pointing her finger. “I’ll call them over.  Cody? John?”

Remember those two hot guys that I mentioned earlier? Well they’re walking across the street and heading directly toward us. They’re now in front of me. “Val, these are my boys. This is Cody and this is John.”

Okay. This is where I have to stop. Did you ever have something so embarrassing happen that you knew your embarrassment was giving you away? I could feel my face getting really red, as though they could read my mind. These guys were so hot that warning signs should have been tattooed on their foreheads.

“Hey,” they both say in perfect unison. They’re twins, remember?

“Hey, nice to meet you,” I try to say casually.

Then one of them gets a thought. “Hey, Mom, isn’t she the one who was in those pictures you showed us a few weeks ago?”

My eyes shoot a beam of WTF into her face. “Pictures? Which ones, Donna?”

He answers for her. “She took out pictures from when you guys used to go clubbin’. Man, you used to wear your hair really high. How’dja get it to stay up like that?” His gorgeous twin laughs.

“Let’s just say that Tresemme stayed in business because of me . . . and her.” I used my head to point to his mother.

“Tresemme?” he asks, totally clueless.

Donna and I just rolled our eyes.

After exchanging a few more words, we exchange cell numbers and went on our not-so-merry ways.

Okay. I explained this to you because this little episode had an impact on me. Later that night, after coming out of a restaurant, I get the urge to call Donna. She answers the phone all bubbly. I suppose she knew it was me; caller ID. “What are you doing now?” she wails into the phone.

“Nothing, that’s why I’m calling you. Feel like company?”

“Yes, yes! Come over. I’ll make drinks and we can look at pictures and . . .”

The rest is history. After leaving Donna’s that night, I did a lot of thinking. And when Vallie thinks too much, it’s not good. I want to know one thing. When the hell did I get old? When did it happen? I used to be young, adorable, and so freakin’ cool. Did I fall asleep under a tree for a century?

Looking at Donna’s pictures, and seeing how high I wore my hair, and how freaky I used to dress, brought back so many great memories. Where did those days go? Back in my day, the song 1999, by Prince, was numero uno on the charts, and my friends and I used to say to each other, “Shit, could you imagine the year 1999? What the hell would it be like?”

And now it’s pushing into 2011! Good grief? But here’s the thing. I don’t feel old. I don’t look old. I don’t dress old. I don’t think old . . . or do I?

How do you know you’re getting, let’s say . . . mature?

1)      When you hear thumping rap music coming from the car next to you and you close your window because you find it totally annoying.

2)      When you fall asleep during Grey’s Anatomy, and it just started.

3)      When you keep referring to your younger years as ‘back in the day’.

4)      When you really dig hearing an oldie come on the radio and you crank it up.

5)      When you incorporate prunes and apples and wheat germ into your diet to keep ‘regular’.

6)      When you wear a hat, a scarf, boots, and a long quilted down coat and it’s only 50 degrees outside.

7)      When you watch someone twenty years younger than you make the same mistake that you’ve already made a hundred times and know they’re really going to pay for it.

8)      When the trip to the dentist requires taking full mouth impressions.

9)      When you’re told it’s almost time for a colonoscopy.

Guys, when did I get old? Or, is it that I’m just getting better? Oh, and one more thing; Sunsweet Pitted Prunes really do work. Just sayin’.

When is ‘enough is enough’?

Your heart’s been broken more times than you want to admit . . . by the same person. They’ve lied to you, cheated on you, not been there when you needed them, and yet, you’re still with them. You know you should have left a long time ago but something deep-down, something that you don’t understand keeps you where you are. Is it the fear of being alone? Is it the fear of never finding love again? What keeps you rooted in a relationship that’s dead—one sided—going nowhere? When is ‘enough is enough’?

Enough is enough came for me a few times in my life, but if I had to pinpoint the most significant time it was when I left my husband. Back then, I was a young girl, naïve to the world and short on cash. My husband was a classic case of momma’s-boy-gone-wild. He went out with his friends, partied like a frat-bro, and the best part; he hardly worked. Yet, I stayed with him for ten years, always threatening him with divorce—always trying to scare him into caring. It didn’t work. He came and went as he pleased, ignoring all my threats and scoffing at my ultimatums. Nothing mattered.
While it was happening, I comforted myself with the belief that when I got that raise, I’d go. I told myself that when I’d find someone else, I’d leave. Yet, ten years later, I was still there. So what pushed me over the edge to finally saying, I had enough?

After ten years of being in a one-sided, loveless marriage, my day in court came, literally. He was in the middle of a big lawsuit; one where he was awarded a large sum of money. I’ll never forget that day. As we walked into our apartment across from Kings Plaza, in Brooklyn, we plopped ourselves down at the kitchen table and just stared at each other. Two people with nothing in common, were both wondering what’s next. And then it happened. He said the most frightening words that I had ever heard. He said, I think it’s time for you to get pregnant.

Ten years of living with a selfish, non-caring, party animal had taught me one thing: babies will never be a part of our marital equation. There wasn’t any way that I was going to have a baby; especially with a person who had hurt me the way he had hurt me. He had pushed me over the edge. Yes, enough was enough. I was out the door.
Sometimes, it can be just a few words that will finally push you over the edge; that will make you jump off your chair and say adios amigo. Sometimes, it happens when you’ve hit rock bottom; when you’re finally able to admit that his infidelities are too much to bear; that his selfishness can no longer be tolerated; that you’re better off being by yourself because being with him is like being alone anyway. Enough is enough is when you know, and can openly admit, that it simply will not work. You understand that you can’t change him or the situation. You’ve done your best—given it your all—now you’re done. Depleted. Empty. You throw the key on the table and walk out.

Have you ever reached that point, where you wake up one morning realizing that you can’t do it—you just can’t stay . . . that enough is enough?

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Should We Listen to Jimmy Kimmel? Delete friends??

Check it out. If we all follow Jimmy’s advice on deleting friends that we personally don’t know, not only would we have no followers, we’d have no friends’ list. Do you agree with him? I happen to like Jimmy. I love his show, but concerning deleting strangers off my friend’s list, I don’t agree with him. I like knowing that we mix and mingle with each other on blogs; saying our opinions and our hellos. It’s a nice feeling. It’s what makes the world a better place. But maybe Jimmy was doing this as a promotional hype-thing . . . ya think?

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time . . .

sands of time

 

What is time, really? When we sleep and go into that dark corridor  of unawareness, that lapse of consciousness that we can’t account for, it’s that place that we equate with tomorrow.

Today is here, and to dream of yesterday only brings us a moment closer to death. Time is just a stamp—nothing more, nothing less; because we can’t measure it, even with clocks, even with the appointments that we must keep; because we are forever going in and out of reality just by our constant daydreaming. Our memories serve us well. They allow us to travel back to those places where we messed up, where we fought with friends and loved ones—the people who’ve hurt us beyond repair; to those places where we once had love, where we could see ourselves back by the shimmering ocean, holding hands with the love of our lives, recounting each spoken word, and feeling the feeling that only that deep memory could bring. Time is where we could conjure up feelings that belong to another and pretend that those feelings are toward us. Time is fickle. It affords us our inspirations, giving us false hope, and then takes it away the second we turn our attention back to the now.

If we take away our sleep and remain awake, would we’d be able to say the words yesterday, today, or tomorrow?   Time is a made up event that justifies what we can’t explain, to give us the chance of changing our paths, to give us hope that there is something to cling on to. Does a person who dreams of tomorrow exist only in today? How could he? If his attention is on what he’ll achieve then he isn’t living in the now, so he must be living in the future. But one would argue that his physical body is in the present, despite that his consciousness is somewhere else. So how do we determine time when we’re constantly exploring the past and the future?

But what if we lived in a place where every single idea we had instantly manifested as an event, and what if all these ideas and dreams were just hanging out, together at once? What if our thoughts of the past, and of today, and of tomorrow manifested at the same time and suddenly everything we ever wanted and dreamed of, the good and the bad, happened right before our eyes, just waiting for us to choose which we’ll focus on first? What if that was to happen? 

Time is the place that feeds our dreams. It’s the place where we venture back, recalling moments of loved ones lost, of the laughter and joy that their precious attachment gave us. It’s a place where nobody else but you can go. Nobody can take it away from us. The young are naïve; they think of time as never ending, until time creeps up on them and makes them frightfully aware that their time is about to end. It gives the young girl visions and thrills and gives the old woman the fear of what the next day brings. Time is an enigma, elusive and unforgettable, yet tangible and scary, something we think about every second of our lives.

When will you come visit me? the mother says to her grown child. The ‘when’ is the heartbreak. It’s the thought that maybe it won’t come to pass. When will I get that raise or when will I find love? The when is the part of the equation that we fear the most, yet hold on to for dear life. It’s the ‘when’ that we live for, that we aspire to, that we won’t ever let go of.

Time makes lovers laugh, the aged cry, the hopeless beg, and the unloved wishing for just one moment of happiness. It’s a ghost of our fears and the comfort of our dreams, fleeting endlessly, to get us to create more.

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Is Facebook Responsible For Extra Marital Affairs?

Image via Wikipedia

Well, now I’ve heard it all. I’m watching Fox Five News where it’s been announced that Facebook is responsible for marriages breaking up. Now come on, guys. We all know that if someone is going to cheat, they’re going to cheat and that they don’t need the excuse that some online social site caused it. That is so ridiculous that I like to smack this person’s head for having the audacity to even make such a statement.

I know you all go to Facebook to hook-up with friends, but is Facebook taking a gun to your head to do so? Is a huge FB icon running through the streets pointing a rifle, holding people hostage until they commit the dirty deed? Really. How pathetic are people to make such a goofy claim?

Do you think that Facebook contributes to cheating?

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WHACKED

He climbed the steps as if they weren’t there
Racing to get to the top
His heart was pounding
his rage blood red

He was just tipped-
A phone call
A strange voice telling him that he was a fool 
Images of her with him
Naked in bed,
Sneaking interludes
How many have there been

He knew something was wrong
She was always leaving
It didn’t feel right
It was slight

Contrite

It smelled of betrayal

 

 He was almost at the top step of his apartment door
What would he say
Who would he blame
Insanity rushed

But did it really matter ?

His hand quaked as he reached inside his coat
Someone had to pay for the game they played
Because he’d been played by the players
slayed by the gamers

 He listened by the door and quietly sneaked in
All was dark, except for a sliver of light
Being careful not to make a sound,
Sweat beading up on his brow
mouth dry
can’t listen to another lie
There’s nothing left to deny

When you’re cold busted

The moaning grew loud as he approached the bedroom door
Rage seething
Pain from every pore
Hands shaking
no control
Sanity lost long ago
A climax of truth

now time for the unveiling

 

 He pushed the partially opened door and poked his head through
Too involved in the heat
They didn’t notice a thing
He stepped all the way in and cleared his throat
Her sudden astonishment was almost a joke
Then more lies

as the water began flowing

 

  He put his hands over his ears
didn’t want to hear her beg
Gun near his head
Muffled pleas
Her tears made no difference

He looked to the left

his robe lay on the floor

He had worn it
Adorned it
Treasure taken
Like he owned it
Raged
Insane
Payback

Whacked

They’re dead

 

2010 ©Valentine deFrancis. All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which Door Do You Walk Through ?

I was walking down a very deserted road. It was dark and still, and the air thick with the scent of moistened soil. The fog felt surreal, and I was alone. There wasn’t anyone to phone or to hold me as I quaked in fear.
The mist was confusing, and I squinted in order to see. My steps were small and cautioned because I was afraid that I would fall. Yet as I walked through this dreamlike state, I knew eventually, I would stumble upon it–I knew it in my gut.

The light from the lamp post shined, making the air look white, and although I was filled with uncertainty of what I’d find, I knew it was time. There was no turning back. I stood before it, my shadow tall. Before me they appeared–massive structures hovering through the universe. Two doors. Two paths to the unknown. Two decisions that would make or break my life.  They were identical. The crippling fear of the unknown was larger than life, mocking me and making me think twice.

But which door holds my life, the life that promises joy and love, and freedom from fear and doubt? Which door will redeem me for past indiscretions? Why am I so afraid to choose? What will happen to me if I’m wrong?

My hands shook uncontrollably, and my heart pounded through my chest. Each door was alluring and enticing, yet dangerous enough to cause me death. I took another step forward and then stopped. What if I was incorrect in choosing, what would happen? What would become of me? Would I end up in the pit of hell or shunned by humanity?
“Father,” I cried, louder than I had wanted. “Why am I so afraid to open either door? You offer me two, so one of them must be for the good … but which one, tell me?” 

I didn’t get an answer, so  I cried out again. “Father, what lies beyond these doors? Why must I choose life or death? Why are you making me decide? If you love me, you would just lead me–you would just tell me which way to go. You are supposed to be helping me, yet now, when I need you the most, all I can see are these two doors. There are no markings, no words of caution, just two doors that I must open. But what if I open one and it has no floor, and I fall through space and time, at speeds that will torment me as I crush in the pits of destruction?  Father please! Tell me what to do. What is this going to prove? My heart is good and my intentions are full of love. Can’t you just tell me what lies ahead?”

And then I took another step, and with trepidation, I reached for the knob that belonged to the door on the right. And I was almost there, my hand a fraction of an inch away, when I confusingly turned to look at the other door and reached for that one instead. And as I turned my head from right to left, and then from left to right, I cried at how I was so afraid to know what lied ahead. I knew I had to make the decision and quickly, because the ground that I was standing on was receding, and I could hear the mountains crumbling and smell the molten lava burning the brush, and soon I would not have the safety and security that I always knew.

The sweat was dripping down my temples, and my body trembled involuntarily as I put my hand on the knob once more. And for the last time I cried out louder than I did before and yelled, “Father, I love you. I cannot make my mind choose correctly, so I will have to go on faith. And Father, please understand that if I have chosen the wrong door, then forgive me; I only wanted to do what was right.” 

And I held onto the knob with all my might, and looked down at my feet and saw that there wasn’t a ground–nothing but light. My time had come and there was nothing I could do but walk through. And when I crossed the threshold, I opened my eyes and looked–the road was there, and I could smell the moistened grass, and I could hear the peacefulness of the sun rising and see the promise of the future. And I suddenly knew that the only thing that kept me from moving through was my own fear.

Doors are meant to be opened. Thresholds are made to be crossed. If we don’t take chances and grab every opportunity, big or small, we will never know what we are capable of. Our faith in God must be in the fact that He will never let us fall–not even in our darkest hour.

Valentine deFrancis.

Beyond the Valley of Death

All heads are bowed as if in silent prayer; eyes reading newspapers with headsets on—some are sleeping, others just too afraid. The humming of the massive jet engine is enough to lull me to sleep, although, dare I while up this high?

The altitude is 39,000 feet and just the thought of it, the idea of being confined, not being able to see the horizon, makes me think of coffins. I feel closed in until I glance out the window, and once I see the glory of eternity, then I remember that I can fly. I can jump from where I’m sitting and land on a cloud, and like a dancer, I can leap my way across each fluffy pillow until I get to my secret haven.

The man next to me is an accountant. His ledger paper and calculator are very busy; and he’s slouched over as he hits the keys, pausing every few seconds to push his eye glasses back up from the tip of his nose. As I watch him, I notice that he’s crossed his ankles, showing off his beige socks which doesn’t match his grey slacks. I begin to chuckle ever so quietly thinking that he needed help getting dressed this morning.

The flight attendant walks passed me again, and she turns her head from right to left, occasionally smiling when she makes eye contact with a passenger. Her head is high, and her posture perfectly aligned; she thinks she’s on the catwalk when the truth is she believes she’s nothing more than a glorified waitress.

I can’t help to think that every person on this carpet ride has one thing on their mind and that’s the glitter and gluttony of the forbidden valley. But as for me, I have two things on my mind. 
Panic.
Terror.

What bone curdling fear did those innocent warriors feel when their plane glided through the sky? No need for an elevator to the roof, for the towers roared and screamed, until they broke down and sobbed, collapsing to the ground. And they aren’t coming back and neither are those souls.
No need to knock on heaven’s door. It was opened and waiting for the good to die young.

The Canyon is my destination. It’s where it began. It was my connecting flight to the magnificent Seven—the truth of who I am. I was given the secret of a power who’s bigger than any powers on earth. Millions of years and many lifetimes are my destiny.  The orange and red maze of ghosts call me, saying we’re one.

From up so high, it stuns me. I never recalled anything as beguiling as this. Thousands of acres formed over billions of years, still here, to prove a point. All the departed roam this plane. The Colorado River looks like a thread snaking through this puzzle, and as I stare through my tiny window, through the clouds, the same clouds that I recall from my first pilgrimage, I know I’m home.

Eight years in the making, and my metamorphosis from death to life is a work in progress.

valentine defrancis 2011  all rights reserved.

Mr. Editor, can I place my comma here ?

Question. And I want you to really give this fair consideration.  Why are there so many grammar rules?
I know when I speak, I pause. We all do. Now. If I want to write what I speak, I will place a comma where I would be pausing. Right? You with me so far?

I was taught that when I write, I should place a comma where I would naturally be pausing so that the reader of my writing would get the gist of my personality and intention.  Let me give you an example. Below, I’ll write two sentences.

I went to the store and I bought candy and ice cream and cake because those are my favorite things.

I went to the store, and I bought candy, and ice cream, and cake, because those are my favorite things.

The commas in the second sentence are where I would be pausing if I was telling this to you face to face.  BUT the comma before “because” is a no-no, and the reason it’s a no-no is because someone, somewhere, in some point in time said so. Who? Who made up the rules? Some of these grammar rules are so ridiculous that it’s my belief that they were created to separate the college scholars from the middle class. The scholars of yester-year wanted to feel superior and decided to make rules. Those who could follow the rules were considered intelligent, and those who didn’t were deemed “regular”.  

Here’s another question. Tell me why semi-colons and colons were created? I know the grammar books tell us why, but why? Below are examples using colons according to the grammar rules and according to the rules that should be.

My mom gave me a grocery list of: apples; oranges; pears, and milk.

My mom gave me a grocery list of apples, oranges, pears, and milk.

The second example looks fine to me. It sounds fine to me. Why the damn colon and semi colons? Because the grammar books say so. But why? Who gives a $hit about colons and semi colons? Who needs to clarify that there is a list being made and because a list is being made that it HAS to have a colon. Is anyone reading this getting my point? Why all the hard work? Why the all the confusion? What is the purpose? A person reading my way of writing the sentence gets it perfectly. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that a person reading both sentences would feel more connected with my way than the other way and that’s because the majority of humans don’t write professionally. Who gives a rat’s ass if a colon is used or if a comma is placed before the word “because”?

Here’s another crazy rule. Don’t place a comma before the word “that”.  Example below.

There are so many people in the world that it’s just become impossible to count them.

If I were telling you this to your face, and I was trying to relay my concern about over population and it’s affect on the world, my pause would be right after the word “world”, and that’s because I would be trying to express the emphasis on the second half of the sentence.

So if I wrote the sentence with a comma, There are so many people in the world, that it’s just impossible to count them, you’d know that my concern is relayed in the second half of the sentence. But that isn’t the way we’re allowed to write it. Allowed!! Do you get me? We aren’t allowed!! The grammar police say we aren’t allowed, and if we do write like the way I just did, they will ban you to the isle of STUPIDOS where you shant never write aGAINE!

MY WAY MAKES SENSE. WHY THE TECHNICAL BULLSHIT WITH THE COLON AND SEMI COLONS AND THE COMMAS… WHY?????

And last, but certainly not least, is one of my favorite rules. Do not place a comma between a sentence that has an independent clause and a dependent clause. HUH????? Example below.

I went to the city and got lost.

A comma after the word “city” is sooo wrong that if you dare to place it there, you shall be whipped and hung out to dry. Why you ask? Because the second half of the above sentence is incomplete. It doesn’t have all the good stuff, like a noun, object, and verb—together. Yeah I know. It’s nuts.

I believe that spelling should be perfect just so we can all understand the meaning of what is being written but if I get going on spelling rules then this blog will be a book and I’m in the middle of trying to get one published well, you know . . .

Are you reading me, sweethearts?

Laughing your ass off raises your vibration

picture property of Nasa

Okay, so this is going to be a little long. But trust me. It’ll be worth it.

It’s been a while since we chatted, but I’ve been so busy writing my new novel that I just didn’t have the time to come around. And we all know that I can’t bang out quality work if I’m blogging. Or talking. Or chewing gum. Not me. I have to isolate myself until I’m done. And now that I’m done and searching for an agent, I’ve resumed my studies on the subconscious mind and metaphysics, and fine-tuned it to include the laws of attraction, the laws of energy forces, the power of positive thinking, and of course, praying and its correlation to reprogramming the subconscious. Oh, and let’s not forget tapping and doing the healing codes.

Now, you may be saying to yourself, what the heck is Val talking about? I realize that I’ve just mentioned quite a few things, but they’re extremely important things that will help you better your lives and elevate your consciousness to achieve any goal or desire that you have.

Taking this a step further—the reason I’m writing this is to clarify the term “raising your vibration”.

If you’ve been studying the law of attraction, and if you’ve been reading all the books written about it, and if you’ve been buying every audio and attending every seminar concerning it, and you still don’t understand what it means to raise your vibration in order to attract your desires, then you’ve come to the right place. I’m going to explain what the gurus didn’t. I’m going to break it down in simple terms using simple examples, and when I’m done, you’re going to say, damn, is that what it is?

Okay, so here we go. In terms that all humans can understand: to raise your vibration simply means getting in a better mood. Now you may be thinking that it’s not easy to get into a better mood. And you may be wondering what does getting in a better mood have to do with raising your vibration? And you may even be wondering, what the heck is a vibration? So I’m going to explain it in basic rudimentary terms and when I’m done, trust me, you will understand this.

So, scientists have confirmed that the universe is made of energy. This includes everything from our thoughts, to rocks, vegetation, plant life, water, the animal kingdom, and our physical bodies. After the studies were considered absolute, it was then discovered that each element of existence vibrates. Yes, vibrates. Energy not only swirls, it vibrates. And it vibrates on different levels. And science has proven that energy will attract and be drawn to other energy that vibrates on its same level. Here’s an analogy. A dog whistle can only be heard by dogs. When the whistle is blown, it vibrates between 23 and 54 Hz, too high for humans to hear. It’s out of our vibration frequency, but not for a dog, whose frequency is in tune with the frequency of the whistle.

Taking it a little further. Again, this is just an example. A magnate will attract particles that vibrate at its level; such as particles that are equal in composition and vibration. Now I know that I’m simplifying this, but it’s to get my point across. It’s weird to think of life as nothing more than a series of vibrations, but this is what it actually boils down to. If you can wrap your mind around the possibility that all of life literally vibrates, and that the vibration of energy will attract its equivalent, then you’ll get this.

Under high powered microscopes, we can see atoms vibrating; and since everything in the universe is made of atoms, everything vibrates. Why things vibrate at different levels is another story for another time. For now, let’s just stick with the fact that all of life vibrates.

If energy vibrates and attracts situations, events, and people that vibrate on its level, then the question to ask is: how can we tell what our energy vibration level is? We want to know this answer because if we’re vibrating at a low level, we’re attracting things that are matching our vibration equivalent. And I’m referring to people and situations. How can we tell what we’re attracting? Simple. Just look around you. Just look at your home life, your work life, your love life, and your finances. Most people think that life is just a series of random circumstances in which they have no control, but it’s not. There aren’t any random situations. There are no coincidences. There’s nothing that happens by chance. Everything is drawn to us through our thoughts and beliefs, which attract situations and people who are vibrating at our level of thinking. So it’s like this: Let’s say you’re in a bad mood, for whatever reason. You’re thinking miserable thoughts. You hate the world. You hate yourself. You hate your job. Life sucks. Right here in this example, you’re vibrating at a low level. Studies have shown that when you’re negative, the vibration is extremely low; therefore, you’re going to attract other negative people and situations and health issues that resonate with your energy vibration. . . even things such as car accidents. How? If you’re in your car and you’re in a bad mood, your vibration is extremely low and it’s attracting other people who are in a bad mood or who are matching your vibration. Two people in a bad mood, driving down the road, can produce an accident—without a doubt. Are you with me? You are energy, and as energy, you vibrate, and when you vibrate, the universal law of physics states that you will attract any energy matching your vibration level—good or bad. So how do we fix this? How do we raise our vibration? You’re going to shake your head when you hear this. Again—the books don’t break it down like this. The gurus omit these simple details because they want to make money. But I want to help. And when I get a revelation like this, I’m going to share it. So here we go.

The gurus say that to raise your vibration, you must meditate, do visualization exercises, or listen to stimulating music. But, if you’re in a bad mood, how do you sit down and try to get in a good mood? If you’re in a bad mood, how do you visualize being in a good mood? You can’t. Your vibration is too low. It will take too much effort and the result will be frustration. But there is something that you can do, that you’ve been doing, that will absolutely get you mentally “there”. If you want to get your vibration up, just get in a better mood. How? Listen closely. What I’m going to tell you works. I’ve done it and have beaten agoraphobia by doing it. I’ll start by giving you examples.

Let’s say that you had a date and the date went well. You really like this person and can’t wait for them to call for a second date. Every day, you wait to get this call. By the end of the week, you’re miserable. The person hasn’t called you. You’re pouting. You’re nasty to everyone. You hate the world. Basically, you’re in a bad mood. Then, out of nowhere, the phone rings and it’s him. Suddenly, like magic, you’re on top of the world. All your misery has magically disappeared, as if someone flipped a switch in your brain. To make you see a clearer picture: your sudden happy mood has instantaneously raised your vibration to a higher level, and when it’s at a higher level and stays at that level, you’ll begin to attract things that are your vibrational match. You’ll draw good things to you such as raises or promotions or you’ll make more friends or get more dates. Life suddenly seems so great, doesn’t it? All from one little phone call.
If one phone call can get you in a great mood and raise your vibration level, that means that you can do it all on your own. How? Keep reading. I’m going to give you another example so that you will completely understand where I’m going with this.

Let’s say you wake up in a bad mood. Let’s say the night before you broke up with your boyfriend or had a big fight with a friend or got hit with a big bill that needs to be paid. Whatever your reason, you’re in a really bad mood. Now, you go to work. You’re quiet. You’re nasty. You’re barking at co-workers. Then, someone enters the room and they trip and fall. Everyone around you starts to giggle. And deep in your gut it was truly funny to see this person trip and fall. You have to admit that you want to laugh. And you finally tell yourself that you’re going to laugh, despite being mad at life. And then you begin to laugh. And when you do, you’re laughing and enjoying, and your brain is doing its thing; the neurotransmitter, dopamine, is being released and good stuff begins to happen. Soon, after the laughter dies down, you find that you still have a smile on your face and now you’re mood isn’t so sullen. You feel a little better, and suddenly your problems seem small. You can handle things. Has this ever happened to you? I know it has. Here’s what happens when we laugh. Endorphins are released, which put us in a calm state of mind. Laughter is the way to raise your vibration. If you can find ways to laugh, you’re going to always raise your vibration. The more you laugh at life, the happier you are. The happier you are, the higher your vibration. The higher your vibration, the more you attract good things, and so on. It’s the only way to raise your vibration. Once you understand this and deliberately set out to get happy, you’re on your way. You can then do those visual manifestation exercises that the gurus mention. But by then, you won’t have to.

When you’re in a seriously bad mood, turn on a comedy show. Tell a friend to tell you some jokes. Try to rehash some funny incident. Before long, you’ll be laughing, and once that starts, you’ll be raising your vibration level. Check out David Hawkins, if you want to learn more about vibration levels.

You can do this. It’s not a secret. Don’t let anyone sell you a line of bs. You were made with all the right stuff. You only needed someone to point it out to you.

Related articles

• The Life-Changing Lessons of Jerry and Esther Hicks (attractabundancenow.wordpress.com)
• Raising Your Vibrational Frequency (rdrudolph1.wordpress.com)

Step Away From the Chocolate

Image via Wikipedia

I had a bad week. You know those types of weeks: the ones where anything and everything can go wrong—the type of week where if you can imagine it happening, it will?  Well, for the sake of keeping this story short, I’ll just state for the record, it was a bad week.

Now, if you’re anything like me, when you’ve had a bad week, or a bad day, or are feeling down, lonely, or unappreciated, the first thing you’ll do is head over to any store, preferrably one that’s very close, and buy a bag, or box, of chocolates. For me, it has to be milk chocolate, with the exception of York peppermint patties, and it could be ANY BRAND OF CHOCOLATE. Hersheys, Godiver, doesn’t matter. In fact, let me go and get the box that I’m currently pigging out on. Be right back.

Okay, I’m back. So I was thinking. Why chocolate? Why do we go to chocolate when we need comfort? I know it tastes rich, sweet, and creamy. I know it releases endorphines, which calm us. But why do we eat so much of it? Read this to find out why.

The other day, after one of my numerous incidences, I jumped into my Mentley and headed over to Target and bought the king-size bag of York peppermint patties. I didn’t even get in my car when I ripped open the bag and popped four of them into my mouth. Talk about eyeballs rolling to the back of your head. Wooooo—wee. Those little patties are to die for. Of course, once I got home and tried to eat another one, my boyfriend came into the kitchen, watched me for several seconds, and then yelled, “Step away from the Yorks! I repeat. Step away from the Yorks!”

Damn it. Busted.

They can make a pill for every ailment. They should definitely make one for chocolate addiction.

Related articles

• Can you give me the best chocolate recipe (wiki.answers.com)
• Did you know Chocolate is a Vegetable? (ilyke.net)
• Chew on This: Josh Early’s Chocolates (thesmartcookiecook.com)
• Chocolate! (menopausemaniac.com)
• Want To Win A Box of Godiva Chocolates: Read This (livingselfcare.wordpress.com)

Kickin’ Off the Week

Image via Wikipedia

Okay, so once again, the summer is officially over. I know.  Where the heck did it go? Why is it that the winter seems so long and dreary and yet, the summer goes in the blink of an eye? To make matters worse—I was at the mall, and they’re showing not only Halloween decorations, but Christmas  ads, as well. Seriously? Did everyone lose their minds? Christmas, in the middle of August? I just can’t take it.

And speaking of not being able to take it, listen to this. A male friend of mine submitted a query to a literary agent, here in New York, and the agent rejects the query stating that “she wants to see more historical novels set in the 1800s”. Really? SHE WANTS . . .

Well, I don’t even have to tell you how that made my friend react. This friend is a fabulous writer of crime thrillers, and he can write the words off any page, for sure. But to be told that the agent wants historical? Since when do writers write solely for the agents’ tastes? What happened to writing for the people, the general population? To this agent: you’re supposed to be searching for marketable stories that the “majority” of the people want to read. It’s not about you, dear agent. It’s about what’s best for the publisher. To the publisher: please, please start taking submissions again. You’re missing out on wonderful stories that are being bypassed due to agents’ personal tastes. Moving on . . .

Did you hear about the bridge and tunnel increases? I’m sure you have. It’s was news from a few weeks’ ago. Well, I had to cross a few bridges in the last few days and do I have to tell you how much it cost? Geeze, Louise. The city is trying to kill us off. I don’t get this. Where is all the money that’s been collected from all the bridges and tunnels over the years? What the heck have “they” done with it? No one can tell me that the billions of dollars that’s been collected has gone back into the infrastructure of our metro. It cannot be possible. These bridges were supposed to collect tolls to pay back the cost of constructing them. Ah, hello? If you research this, the money collected over the years not only paid for the building of the bridges and tunnels, but was used to send shuttles to space ( just being faceticous). But you get my drift. Where’s the moolah?

Last, but not least  . . .

The president came to New Jersey to assess the damage brought upon the state by hurrican Irene. He stated that we, as a nation, will pull through this and that funds would be given to help the rebuilding of New Jersey. Now I ask: where will this money come from? He’s helping this, and helping that, yet state workers got their paychecks late because there wasn’t enough money, so we were told, to pay them on time. The elderly have been threatened that they may have their social security cut. God, we need you!! Help us.

Okay. I think I’ve said enough for one morning. I know it wasn’t so good, but hey, it’s Tuesday, and I’ve been holding in in all weekend. I’ll have better stuff for next time. Till then . . .

OAO

Related articles

• The Real Housewives of New Jersey: Kickin’ It With Joe Giudice (stoopidhousewives.com)
• City Room: Higher Bridge, Tunnel and PATH Rates Approved (cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com)
• N.J. commuters speak out against proposed bridge, tunnel toll increases and PATH fare hikes (nj.com)
• Your comments: Port Authority defends huge toll hike, calling it ‘absolutely necessary’ (nj.com)

THOUGHTS = POWER: YOUR THOUGHTS Are the Key to Using the Law of Attraction

Valentine deFrancis’ test results have shown that every thought we have will manifest itself if focused upon for minimum of three days. Take deliberate control of your thoughts and watch your desires come to pass . . .

Hey, guys. I hope everyone had a happy and productive weekend. Before I get started, I want to thank each of you for reading my posts and emailing me your questions concerning the law of attraction. It fills me with a great sense of purpose to know that I can share my knowledge with those of you who really want to learn about your minds. That being said, I want to quickly touch base on the law of attraction and what it actually means. I’m not going to delve into this too deeply as I had written several articles about it over the last few months. If you need to, you can catch-up by scrolling through my blog archives, which are to the right of this post.

Okay. The law of attraction (which by the way is a term recently made famous by Rhonda Byrne in her mega-successful book, The Secret) is a natural phenomenon or universal law which states that like attracts the like or, what you think will attract the things you think of. As with the other universal laws, such as gravity and math, the law of attraction, or the law of creating through vibration, is something that not many people know about or give their attention to. The average person doesn’t question their physiological and mental processes. All they know is that they were born, learned to speak and walk, and grew into adults who have their own set of beliefs. They live each day without questioning why they are the way they are. They don’t give special attention to their chattering minds because their mental chatter to them was always there–always a part of them–from the moment they realized that it was there.

But! and this is where it gets a tad tricky, your thoughts aren’t just some “chattering, fleeting things” that are in your brain. In fact, they’re not your brain, despite what the majority of humans believe. So what are thoughts?

I’m going to explain what a thought is in my own words. Take note that I’m writing this in the most simplistic way I can; using rudimentary terms in order for you to understand it. It’s not that I think you’re incapable of understanding scientific jargon. It’s just that I don’t believe in writing an article using words that most people don’t use. I want you to read my work with ease. I want you to get it. I write the way I like to read; and that’s with using everyday language. Hey, we’re not all scholars ya know. Okay, so, what are thoughts?

Well, there are two kinds of thoughts. There are your conscious, chattering thoughts that you’re aware of most of the time. And then there’s your unconscious thoughts, which you’re never aware of unless you have a reason to dig them up. Before I get into each of these, I can give you the scientific and psychological definition of thought straight from Wikipedia . . .

“Thought” generally refers to any mental or intellectual activity involving an individual’s subjective consciousness. It can refer either to the act of thinking or the resulting ideas or arrangements of ideas. Similar concepts include cognition, sentience, consciousness, and imagination.[1] Because thought underlies almost all human actions and interactions, understanding its physical and metaphysical origins, processes, and effects has been a longstanding goal of many academic disciplines including, among others, biology, philosophy, psychology, and sociology.

OR

I can explain what a thought is by using everyday examples which you’d be more apt to relate to.

First and foremost, your thoughts, conscious and unconscious, are a deeper part of you which serves the purpose of creating your outer life experience. Yep, that’s correct; cre–a–ting your outer life experience. But how do thoughts create? What do thoughts create? And when do thoughts create? Let’s begin with your conscious, everyday mind chatter. It’s like this:

The chatter that you’ve come to know, that you never question, is the very essence of being conscious. Being conscious simply means that you are alert to the world around you. From the moment you were born, you were thinking, and as you began to grow, your thinking began to include pictures and images, which were taught to you by mom and dad. They probably dangled a rubber duckie in front of your face and said, “Duckie? Say Duckie for mommy.”

Sound familiar?

So, through your growing process, words became associated with pictures; hence, when you think, you think in pictures and symbols. Now. This mind chatter, your thinking process, does its thing non-stop. Ever notice that? Ever notice that when you go to bed at night, sometimes you can’t turn off your thoughts? Well, this mind chatter or non-stop thinking is the very essence with which you make choices, take action, plan your life, and think up vengeful plots. Your thoughts are the thing inside of your being which make you, you, and which make you alive, and which make you a part of existence. Your thoughts define you because of where they lead you in life. BUT! your thoughts aren’t always right. They aren’t always nice. They aren’t always beneficial. They can be mean–spirited, negative, nasty, and damaging. But most importantly; they can be totally untrue. Yes, we have thoughts that feed into our already–untrue–beliefs that are buried into our subconscious minds. And it’s this lower mind that provokes us into action.

For those of you who don’t know what a subconscious mind is, it’s the deeper mind that regulates our entire physiological system, or in other words, our autonomic system. In other words: how does the heart know how to pump blood? How do our cuts and bruises know how to heal? How does our body know to grow hair, eliminate waste? How do we know to breathe? Our subconscious mind is in charge of all of our bodies’ functions. We never have to think about it. I mean, seriously. Could you imagine having to remember to breathe?

Our subconscious is at the steering wheel, guiding us on a deeper level; but from the beginning of our lives, it knows to take orders from the captain at the helm; from our conscious thoughts.

Let me explain: You must keep in mind that this is all happening from the time of our births. Between the age of being born to the age of seven, is the mind’s most impressionable period. It absorbs all that it sees and hears. It forms opinions and beliefs based upon what it observes from those around it. It doesn’t know the difference between right or wrong or good or bad. It just sees its caretakers, mom and dad, doing things and acting a certain way, and is picking up this information and storing it. As you get older, these things that were stored in your impressionable subconscious, cause you to act it out. And it will always have you act a certain way, depending upon what was impressed into it. As your dual mind continues to function, it will also cause you to seek out situations to validate its beliefs; meaning, if it believes that you’re a worthless bum, it will see to it that you’ll do things that will make you a failure. You may not want to believe that you want to be a failure, but if it’s stored below, you will always sabotage yourself, without fail–all from thinking negative thoughts. And these thoughts are so fleeting, yet so detrimental, that you don’t catch yourself thinking them. But you do think them. It all happens so fast, that you aren’t even aware of it. And as you think these negative things on a conscious level, (despite not catching yourself doing it) what you’re actually doing is re-affirming its importance; thus soon, you’ll be deliberately failing. As you have these fleeting negative conscious thoughts, they’re sinking down to the subconscious and saying, “Okay. I’m worthless. You heard my thoughts. I’m a failure. Now direct my actions to fail so that I can be validated as a failure.”

It’s an extremely vicious cycle. Our subconscious is where all our core beliefs about life and about ourselves are stored. And it’s these beliefs, that many times, can be nothing but lies that were generated through life experiences. Having enough of these bad life experiences made the lie your truth. I’ll give you a small example of an unconscious lie.

Let’s say that while you were growing up, you were bad in math. Your father, a CPA, and your mother, a teacher, were upset and yelled at you. They may have said, “You’re going to be a stock boy if you don’t get your math grades up.” They may have said, “You’re worthless. You’ll be a failure, like Uncle Buck.”

Hearing them tear you down makes you feel inadequate. You start to believe you can’t live up to their expectations. After enough times of hearing that you’re nothing but a failure, you begin to believe it; and therefore, you begin to act it out–with the guidance of the subconscious mind. So what happens to you after hearing this most of your young life? Well, your parents’ harmful and destructive words have embedded themselves into your thoughts; and after hearing their harmful words enough times, you consciously tell yourself that you can’t do anything right; which re-affirms what’s already stored in your subconscious mind. And as you go about your life, becoming an adult who is out in the work force, it’s this unconscious belief that you’re a complete failure that governs the direction of your life; making you take actions that will further validate that you’re a complete failure. And as you continue to fail, you consciously tell yourself that you are nothing but a failure, which is then re-affirming what the subconscious has stored, which then directs you to fail–every single time.

Ever notice that you can’t get past a certain level at your job? Or you can’t seem to get to the point of finishing something, like school, for example? You may be just at the brink of success, but then something always keeps you from succeeding? Well, it’s your subconscious beliefs, which were originally created by thoughts, that dictate what you are and what you’ll become. No matter what you tell yourself on the conscious level (your thoughts), you’ll always be directed to take action to validate the truth that’s stored in the subconscious mind. Bottom line?

If you think negative, destructive thoughts, you are confirming what is stored on an unconscious level. And since your thoughts are the captain at the helm, and since they validate what’s stored subconsciously, your subconscious will direct you to take an action that will lead you to fail. ISN’T THIS HORRIBLE? It is, but this is the way it works.

So, what’s the bottom line? The bottom line is that one must learn what their subconscious believes, so that they can change their conscious thoughts toward good thoughts, all with the hope of creating new and wonderful beliefs about themselves. Because now, here’s the kicker: thoughts, negative and positive, good or bad, fear based, anxiety based, health based, or abundance based, not only reach the subconscious mind and create more of what you’re thinking, they exude your being and go into the universe and attract its vibrational equivalent. And this is what the law of attraction is all about.

Think, and you will have.

With me so far? I’ll continue during the week. Think on this and if you have questions, you know what to do.

OAO

Hokus Pokus–All You Have to do is Focus

Valentine deFrancis breaks down the law of attraction and explains it step by step.

Hey guys. If you’ve been following my progress on the law of attraction then you’ll want to read about today’s topic concerning focusing your attention. If you need to catch up to where we are, you can always go to the right of this post and click on the archives.

Okay, so I’m going to talk about focusing. Now I know I don’t have to go into a deep explanation of what the word focus means. We all know it means to direct our full attention to an object or to a thought or to a situation. But there’s more to the meaning of focus than meets the eye. No pun intended.

Anyway, when we focus on an object, we’re zooming in on the object, not diverting our gaze anywhere else; we’re just keeping it on that object. We’re staring at the object. We’re studying the object. We’re giving it our full attention. But if someone calls our name and we turn from the object to answer them, we’re no longer focused on that object. Right? Our attention was broken from that object, therefore, we would probably forget about the object and move on to a new thought. UNLESS the object is of the utmost importance to us . . .

Follow me on this.

Let’s say you have to go to the grocery store. You have your list made out, you know what you need, and you head out the front door to go to your car. You get in your car, turn it on, and take off. You have one thing on your mind: you have to get to the store. Your focus is directed on getting to the store because you need the items on your list.

But what happens if while driving, there’s a car accident, or you hit construction? You go around the accident or construction, and return your focus back to getting to the store. In essence, you really never lost your focus; you just had a minor distraction. Your focus on getting to the store was so strong that even though there was a distraction, you got right back on track and made your way to the store. Getting to the store was your intention, and you let nothing stand in your way of getting there; including the distractions. There wasn’t any fear of not getting to the store. You just did it.

Well, when we want to use our inherent power of the law of attraction, the key is to be focused upon the desire we wish to obtain. If your desire is to get a promotion at work, and you want it badly, you’d probably think about it all day long. And when other issues of the day got in your mind’s view, you’d deal with them, and then divert your attention back to the idea of wanting a promotion.

Through your day, in the back of your mind, your deep desire of wanting a promotion rules your thoughts. You want it. You deserve it. You need it. You’re going after it. You’re not going to stop until you get it. And when daily issues get in your way, you handle them the best you can and then return your focus on your desire. You probably didn’t know this but if you continued to keep your focus on getting a promotion for a minimum of three days, the law of attraction begins to kick in. Your deep desire combined with your ongoing thoughts about it, would bring about an opportunity that will ultimately lead you to your promotion.

What does this mean?

Your attention was diverted several times throughout the day, taking your thoughts in a different direction, but because your deep wish is to get a promotion, the thought stayed with you in the back of your mind. It never left you. When you finished with your diversion thought, you automatically went back to the promotion thought. This is called focus. Your thoughts were focused on a desire, regardless of the bumps in the road that you incurred throughout your day. With me?

Things or issues that are of the utmost importance to us will stay on our minds despite the bumps in the road. If the issues are good issues, the good issues will come to pass. You were focused on them, despite the other insignificant thoughts that wedged their way into your mind. But remember; if you’re focused on something negative, and you can’t get your focus off of it, that too will come to pass. It’s all about the focus when we’re dealing with the law of attraction. Focus is the magic element. But what happens if we deliberately want to make something happen? How do we deliberate focus on it?

Contrary to what you must be thinking right now, it’s very difficult to deliberately focus on something that you want but believe you can’t have or don’t deserve. If you believe you deserve that promotion, and your thoughts are on it constantly, it will come to pass. But if you believe in your heart that you’re not worthy of the promotion and your thoughts are positive, it won’t come to pass. Your thoughts and your desire must be in alignment with your true core beliefs.

So it’s like this. If you want to manifest a million dollars, a few things must happen. First and foremost, you have to believe in your heart that you’re worthy and deserving of it. Then you have to deliberately focus on it. Now here’s where it gets tricky. To focus on a million dollars requires a great deal of mental concentration. It’s not like that job promotion. With the job promotion, you know in your heart that you can handle it. You’re in the situation everyday. You feel it because you’re in direct contact with it. But with a million dollars, you have to use your great imagination. Since you’re not in contact with it and don’t know how it feels to have it, you have to use images and thoughts and words and focus on obtaining it in the now. It would be a breeze if you knew you had a million dollars coming to you somewhere down the road. Keeping it in your mind would then be easy because you know it’s here, somewhere in the universe. But when you want a million dollars and it isn’t here, in order for the law of attraction to deliver it to you, you must use your imagination and feel it. But how? How do you get to the point of feeling it? How can you make yourself be a part of it? Again, it’s not like the job promotion which is within your reach. So how do you keep your mind on the million dollars, feeling it, believing it will happen, without any fear of not being able to obtain it?

You have to break down your thoughts into symbols and words. Yes, people. Words. Words are the power and the key.

Stay tuned. This topic is very tricky. I’m trying to break it down using examples so that you relate to what I’m saying. Don’t worry. We’ll get there. Just stay with me.

By the way. I want to make mention of a brilliant book I read called Message of a Master. It’s here where I got the grocery store story. Read the book. It’s extremely powerful.

I Lost Sleep Over HBO’S Boardwalk Empire

Steve Buscemi as Nucky Thompson--Pic from The Guardian UK

The screeching guitar is playing over in my mind. I can see the Atlantic’s waves crashing bottles of booze up against the Atlantic City shoreline. I can see his face–his bulging blue eyes darting from left to right. The music. Jimmy Darmody. Nucky Thompson. Margaret Schroeder. The blood. Dear Father, what will become of HBO’S Boardwalk Empire?

If you’ve been watching HBO’s Boardwalk Empire, the series which depicts the life of Enoch “Nucky” Thompson, the crooked, gangster treasurer who ruled Atlantic City back in the 1900s, played by none other than Steve Buscemi, then you obviously watched last night’s thrilling season finale. Okay. So why? Some one tell me why they killed-off Jimmy? I just can’t believe it. And Nucky? Did you see how he screwed-over Margaret Schroeder, played by Kelly Macdonald? Did you see what she did at the end? Nucky’s gonna be one pissed-off person when he finds out that his land was signed over to the church. Tsk, tsk.

Now, if you haven’t been watching Boardwalk Empire, then you haven’t a clue of what the show’s about. And I’m sorry that I can’t get into a full synopsis as it would take way too long. But you can go onto HBO’s site and check it out there. Wait, I’ll get you the link. Be right back. Okay, I’m back. Here’s the link. HBO OFFICIAL WEBSITE   Check it out if you have time.

So, did anyone watch it last night? Do you think Jimmy is coming back? And what’s with all this snow falling all over my blog?

The Rich Keep Getting Richer–and Don’t Even Get Me Started on Albert Pujols

Throughout my life, I’d always heard the expression “The rich keeping getting richer, and the poor keep getting poorer”.  And I had always bought into it.  I had always believed that this was the way of the world. Hearing my parents say the above statement, repeatedly over the years, not only made me believe that if we were poor we were going to stay poor, but that the rich were the only ones who’d continue to grow financially and stay that way. But, recently I’ve discovered that although the above statement is true in many ways, it couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. Follow me as I explain this double-edge statement.

Why the rich get richer and the poor get poorer

Here’s the deal: It’s all about belief. It’s all about the words that one uses throughout their day–and throughout their lives. It’s all about unmasking what you believe about yourself, and then retraining yourself to believe positive and constructive truths. It’s all about what we tell ourselves that will determine if we will become rich or stay poor.

So, it’s like this. The rich stay rich because they’ve conditioned themselves to believe that they will always be successful and will always have money. Therefore, thinking that they’ll always have money causes them to talk like they’ll always have money. And they’ll use positive words to express their feelings about having money. And it’s their words that paint MENTAL IMAGES which the subconscious understands, which in turn attracts more of what they’re thinking about. Remember I mentioned that thoughts are pure energy which vibrate either high or low depending on what the thought is? Remember that thoughts will attract whatever is its vibrational equivalent? Remember I said that we learn from infancy to correlate pictures with words and that our brains see pictures first; therefore, our words are turned into pictures which the subconscious reads and responds to? If our words turn into pictures then what pictures are you sending to your subconscious mind–the part of you that takes orders and then proceeds to attract them into your life?

If you’re having financial difficulties, you’re probably worried that at the end of the month, you won’t be able to make ends meet. Worrying over not making ends meet attracts more negative thinking. It’s called habitual rhythm–a term used by Napoleon Hill. Hill clearly states that not only will you attract what you think, but that our thoughts attract more thoughts. Did you know that? Ever notice that you have a thought that won’t leave your mind? You’ve been dwelling on this thought–in various forms–using multiple scenarios–and continue to think this thought for days, maybe even weeks. And it doesn’t stop. Over and over and over you have this thought. And over and over and over you play it out using different scenarios. So our thoughts not only attract and manifest what we think, they attract more of the same vibrational thoughts. And the only way to stop it, is to deliberately pay attention to it; because most of the time, it happens without our awareness. We think so quickly that half the time we don’t even know what we’re thinking. Images and ideas pop in and out of our minds in nano seconds, and if we don’t pay attention to what we let in, we could get ourselves in deep trouble.

Okay, back to the rich. The rich have thoughts of money.  Over the years, they’ve worked at becoming successful. They’ve stayed on track toward their goals, despite drawbacks and obstacles, until they reached the pinnacle of success. They knew the key to success was to never give up and to remain focused on the end result. Once they reached their level of success, and understood that never giving up was the key to it, they felt certain that they could always be successful; and therefore, success was now a word which was used often and impressed upon their minds. The more they thought about success, the more they achieved it. And the more they achieved it, the more convinced they were of always being able to achieve it. And the more convinced they were of always being able to achieve it, the more money they made and the richer they became.

Do you see the pattern? The rich think rich and they grow rich. But what happens to those who struggle financially? Is it because they think of money problems that they draw money problems to themselves? Are they thinking about being poor and therefore growing poorer by the day? Yes, they are thinking poor, and it’s because of habitual rhythm that they’ll continue to do so. 

I’m stressing this to you so that you will understand that our words affect our lives. I’m trying to make you understand how our brains work in correlation with our thoughts. This isn’t a little thing we’re talking about. This is how we exist on this planet. We, and I’m including animal life, plant life, and vegetation, are pure energy which vibrates at various levels–and this includes our thoughts and our mental communication. Therefore, if our words are sending pictures to our brains, which then gets filtered and deposited into our subconscious minds, shouldn’t we be putting better words into our thought banks? Shouldn’t we try to deliberately catch what we’re saying to ourselves so that we can change our situations and begin manifesting good things?

But how you ask? How do you stop thinking about your financial mess when you’re living it? ONE STEP AT A TIME.

I’m not going to feed you some nonsense that by thinking rich you will immediately become rich. It doesn’t work that way. You’d be lying to yourself and your subconscious would know it and give you resistance. You must approach this task in increments. It must be done with deliberate focus and intention. It starts by changing your words. Then it gradually shifts when you say nice words, and when you tell yourself that you’re  aware of the process and that you are improving your situation everyday by deliberately choosing to do so. It’s a step by step, inch by inch work-in-progress. And it’s the only way it can be done. In time, and I’m thinking thirty days of doing this non-stop, you’re going to start thinking differently. You’ll be a little more positive. You’ll be choosing your words more carefully. You’ll be alert to what you’re saying, knowing that whatever words you’re using will absolutely affect your life.

One word starts the ball rollin’. One good word. Then another. And another. The human brain creates circuits through repeated performance; in other words, it creates habits. Keep doing something for thirty days and it will begin to sink into the subconscious mind. Do it now. Do it for you. Change your words. Think kind things. You’re a great person. And you deserve the best.

One word.

One day at a time.

That’s all it takes.

I’m turning STUPID-EEZA

When you read this, you’re either going to laugh at me, click off this blog, or maybe unfollow me, if you happen to be following me. But here goes:

I am having trouble following you guys. Now I’m not saying that I follow EVERY blog, but I do like to reciprocate when someone follows me. I like to show my support. But every time I think I’m following someone, I find out that I’m not. I don’t know about you, but when I read a person’s blog, I click the follow button on top of the blog. OR, when I get a notification that someone’s following me, I go to their blog and follow them. BUT just now, I went to look at my list of blog followers, and those whom I follow, and there’s like nobody there.  AND I know that there are. AND I know that I’ve clicked on that follow button thingy. SO, don’t think I’m a real dummy, but can someone tell me what I’m doing wrong?

Your’s truly

Val, the metaphysical, anxiety expert who can’t figure out how to click a button.

Saying Goodbye Is Sometimes Good

Hi, my friends, and Happy Holidays.

I hope the closing of 2011 will be the final chapter of any unhappy events that have crossed your paths’. As many of you know, it’s been a tough year. I’ve met so many friends through WordPress and Twitter who’ve shared heartbreaking stories of how they’ve suffered either financially, physically, or mentally. Each of us try to live each day the best we can. We do what we can to get by. We give our best and hope for the best, but sometimes life doesn’t return the great reward that we seek.

I want to say that the best is what you will always do. The deeper part of you knows that you’re doing your best. You may feel undeserving, or not good enough, but I’m telling you that each human on this planet is good enough.

Life will always be about one thing; and that’s the learning of all the lessons that it teaches us. I hope that each of you will dig deep within your hearts and learn that you are magnificent beings who came to the physical plane to experience the physical world all for the purpose of your soul’s enlightenment. Each of you, no matter what stage of achievement you’ve obtained, are brilliant, capable beings who were made in God’s image. Just know this, if nothing else, that you can always count on God to get you through the day. All you have to do is ask, and then believe.

May 2012 be your year to shine; to rise above life’s atrocities and to find all the answers and desires that your heart searches for.

I wish you all the best and look forward to  sharing with you a happy, prosperous, and fun-filled new year.

Until we meet again . . . be well.

Love Val

You Want A Little Press Action ?

I hope everyone had a great holiday. I just wanted to say that I’ll be posting a new article for the new year–hopefully for the beginning of January, 2012. Until then, I wanted to let you guys know that if you’re on Twitter, and if you post links to your blogs or to stories, or if you’re trying to promote yourself, I can help by putting your content on my ezine, MediaSnitch. It’s all for free, and you get to be on the front page if your content is good. In return, all you have to do is help promote the ezine. It helps you and it helps me.

If you’re interested, you can get me on Twitter. Just hit the Follow @Valliedee button to the right of this post. Then, send me your links. I’ll go and check it out and post it to MediaSnitch. It’s that easy.

Have a great day, and I hope to see you on Twitter.

What Do You Say When Someone Says They Were Struck By Lightning

It was one of those instances when I actually didn’t know how to react; and if you know me, you know those instances are rare. I almost always have some type of snappy comeback or quick retort, but not this time. This time, I was silent, but most of all, I was pensive.

As we huddled near a crackling fire, listening to a story being told by my friend’s friend, we all gave each other inconspicuous glances, wondering if the story could actually be true. You see, it all began when my friend suggested that we get together after the holidays. We hadn’t seen each other since the summer, and she felt that our getting together was long overdue. So she invited us up to her cabin in Lake George, New York for a weekend of pigging-out and dishing the dirt. Little did I know what I would soon encounter. 

Anyway, after hugging each other on the front lawn of her massive lakefront property, we went into the house and got settled into our rooms. Later, after a fattening and fabulous dinner consisting of pasta, fried chicken, and dessert, we huddled around her enormous fireplace, with five bottles of red and white wine, and played catch-up with each other. That’s when Sophie, my friend’s friend, who was invited for some unknown reason, broke into a story that left each of us speechless.

It appears that Sophie was in Oklahoma, visiting her mother, when she was in the backyard picking corn. She said that the sky had turned a hazy shade of dark gray and that the wind had begun to pick up. She claimed that normally, if the weather changed suddenly the way it did that day, usually a tornado wasn’t far behind, but this was not a tornado, she said. It was a storm brewing, just a rain storm with dots of lightning. Well, anyway. She was picking her corn when a bolt of lightning crashed in the sky, leaving her no time to run. Then bam! She was hit by lightning.

We all snapped into attention and just stared into her face. I mean, what were the chances of surviving a lightning hit? So, my friend, Jayne, said to her, “Dear God! So what happened to you? Were you burned or knocked unconscious?”

We all waited to hear Sophie’s answer. Sophie said, and I quote, “I was knocked to the ground but got right up. That was it. Not a mark or blemish, nothing.”

“Nothing?” we all said at the same time.

“Not a thing,” Sophie said.

Now keep in mind that we didn’t know Sophie. She was invited by our friend, Joanna. So we glanced over to Joanna, waiting for a nod of approval, or a shoulder shrug, or something to validate her friend. But Joanna was so flabbergasted that she couldn’t respond.

Now, I ask you. What do you say to a person who says they walked away totally unscathed from being struck by lightning?

Do you call them out, or do you just politely nod, smile, and change the subject?

FREE WILL WILL COSTYA

I was wondering how I was going to broach this topic. When it comes to God and the law of attraction, and free will, people get confused and leery as to whether they should contemplate the existence of these ideas. They even fear being blasphemous—that entertaining the idea of the law of attraction goes against God.

 Having said that: if this subject rubs you the wrong way, then please feel free to exit from this blog. If this subject causes you stress, then please feel free to exit from this blog. And lastly. If talking about God brings up the need to debate His existence, or lack thereof, please exit from this blog. For the record, I will not debate God’s existence. I will not debate religion. And I will not debate my beliefs. So, if you’re a debater, you’re in the wrong place. This is a place for exploration and deep reflection. This is a place where hopefully, you’ll find some answers. This is a place that’s deep within my being— located in a non-linear plane whichs knows no space or time, nor bars or walls. This place is my mind. So you’re either willing to listen or free to go. It’s all good. 

Moving on . . .

If you’ve read my previous articles, then you know I’m an advocate for the law of attraction. I’ve been studying the mind for more than half my life. Does that make me an expert? It does . . . in my world. But I don’t want to come off as a snooty know-it-all. Becoming an expert in any field is based on one’s willingness and perception TO know it all. Everyone is a know-it-all when it comes to their own life. Indeed they are. No person can tell you more about you then you. When it comes to you, you are an expert; hence, so is everyone else, including me. The only difference that may exist between you and me is that I go to tremendous lengths to find answers, and I don’t stop until I get them. Which is something that benefits anyone who’ll listen. Again, I’m not tooting my horn. I’m just stating a fact. 

 Hundreds of geniuses have written articles concerning their experiences with God and the spirit world. They’ve documented their findings in an effort to help man achieve his purpose—in order for him to reach his spiritual evolution. These masters, dating back thousands’ of years, before Jesus and even before Buddha, knew about God and man’s direct connection to Him. They’ve transcended their earthly ego in order to find God. They knew about the law of God, which simply put is: we are made in His image, and included in that image is his ability to create. (I’m stating a line from Master of the Realm–a true story I wrote of how I connected with the spirit world.)

 After going through my own spiritual evolutional metamorphosis and coming to the conclusion that we are made in God’s image, including His ability to create, and then after having spirits lead me to study what I was told, only to find out that the greatest minds in the history of mankind said the very same thing, well, that was good enough for me. Of course, I just didn’t let it drop there. I’ve been talking to God every day of my life, asking a gazillion questions about Him, about me and Him, and about the laws which represent Him: such as the law of gravity; the law of cause and effect; the law of attraction; the law of abundance, and so forth. These laws aren’t some hokey-pokey nonsense created to pacify man’s reasoning. These laws aren’t some analogy to justify man’s iniquities. Heck, no! These laws ARE GOD, through and through; therefore, they must be studied and applied by us–those who are made in His image. So, it’s like this:

If God is everything—the universes, the planets, the beings on those planets, the animals, the skies, the oceans, the vegetation, the rock and clay, and all filament, AND if all these attributes are in  perfect harmony, each being what they are, doing what they’re supposed to be doing, existing with each other, moving with the flow, in perfect timing, in sync, then that means that God must be a part of them, or even perhaps, HE is them.

 

AND

 

If He is them, then that means that He is us and we are Him; each given the ability to create anything we want. It’s not blasphemous to state: I AM GOD. We are God, here on earth, in the physical. And as God, we have what’s called free will. You know this. You know you can pick and dismiss anything in your life. That’s free will. So, if we can pick and dismiss all things in our existence, and if we are made in God’s image, that must mean that God is free will.

 

 

So . . .

 

If God is free will, and we are made in God’s image, that means that we can create whatever we want. That means that we can pick and dismiss what we want. That means that we can be what we want. If God is free will then that means He will not stop you from creating what you want because YOU are made in His image and given the freedom to create whatever it is that YOU want to create. And if you know about the law of attraction—ENERGY VIBRATION SEEKS ITS LIKENESS OR EQUIVALENT, then you understand that . . .

 

The law of attraction exists, and it does. And if we are the creators of our worlds, which we are, and if we’re made in God’s image, which we are, and if free will is a part of it is, then that means: GOD WILL NOT STOP CATASTROPHES, which you’ve created. HE WILL NOT STOP POVERTY, which you subconsciously created. HE WILL NOT STOP PAIN AND HEARTACHE, which you created by picking and choosing your desires and battles. DO YOU GET ME?

 

God has given YOU free will. He won’t interfere . . . UNLESS YOU CHOOSE HIM.

 

What if . . .

 

God goes either way? What if He’s here–deep within us, but stays away if we don’t ask for help? If He’s free will, then He’s waiting to be called upon. He’s waiting for us to pick and choose all good things. He’s the law of attraction, who will not stop what you’re subconsciously searching for. So, why are you attracting such catastrophies and heartache? It’s your thinking and core beliefs. Combine it with free will, and guess what? God is not to blame. YOU are to blame.

 

People want to know why the world is so wrong–why their lives are messed-up, and why God has forsaken them. I’m here to tell you that God is divine and pure love, and if you’re not looking for Him, if you’re not seeking love, if you’re not practicing picking and choosing love, then free will is gonna costya.

 

I have ideas. I have insight. I ask questions. I seek answers. I want more. I want to rise above life’s chaos and bullshit and live the best life I can. The big question is . . . do you?

 

Learn about the law of attraction. Learn about your mind and it’s power. Learn what you are. What else is possible should become your mantra.

 

Valentine

FREE WILL WILL COSTYA

I was wondering how I was going to broach this topic. When it comes to God and the law of attraction, and free will, people get confused and leery as to whether they should contemplate the existence of these ideas. They even fear being blasphemous—that entertaining the idea of the law of attraction goes against God.

 

Having said that: if this subject rubs you the wrong way, then please feel free to exit from this blog. If this subject causes you stress, then please feel free to exit from this blog. And lastly. If talking about God brings up the need to debate His existence, or lack thereof, please exit from this blog. For the record, I will not debate God’s existence. I will not debate religion. And I will not debate my beliefs. So, if you’re a debater, you’re in the wrong place. This is a place for exploration and deep reflection. This is a place where hopefully, you’ll find some answers. This is a place that’s deep within my being— located in a non-linear plane whichs knows no space or time, nor bars or walls. This place is my mind. So you’re either willing to listen or free to go. It’s all good. 

 

Moving on . . .

 

If you’ve read my previous articles, then you know I’m an advocate for the law of attraction. I’ve been studying the mind for more than half my life. Does that make me an expert? It does . . . in my world. But I don’t want to come off as a snooty know-it-all. Becoming an expert in any field is based on one’s willingness and perception TO know it all. Everyone is a know-it-all when it comes to their own life. Indeed they are. No person can tell you more about you then you. When it comes to you, you are an expert; hence, so is everyone else, including me. The only difference that may exist between you and me is that I go to tremendous lengths to find answers, and I don’t stop until I get them. Which is something that benefits anyone who’ll listen. Again, I’m not tooting my horn. I’m just stating a fact. 

 

Hundreds of geniuses have written articles concerning their experiences with God and the spirit world. They’ve documented their findings in an effort to help man achieve his purpose—in order for him to reach his spiritual evolution. These masters, dating back thousands’ of years, before Jesus and even before Buddha, knew about God and man’s direct connection to Him. They’ve transcended their earthly ego in order to find God. They knew about the law of God, which simply put is: we are made in His image, and included in that image is his ability to create. (I’m stating a line from Master of the Realm–a true story I wrote of how I connected with the spirit world.)

 

After going through my own spiritual evolutional metamorphosis and coming to the conclusion that we are made in God’s image, including His ability to create, and then after having spirits lead me to study what I was told, only to find out that the greatest minds in the history of mankind said the very same thing, well, that was good enough for me. Of course, I just didn’t let it drop there. I’ve been talking to God every day of my life, asking a gazillion questions about Him, about me and Him, and about the laws which represent Him: such as the law of gravity; the law of cause and effect; the law of attraction; the law of abundance, and so forth. These laws aren’t some hokey-pokey nonsense created to pacify man’s reasoning. These laws aren’t some analogy to justify man’s iniquities. Heck, no! These laws ARE GOD, through and through; therefore, they must be studied and applied by us–those who are made in His image. So, it’s like this:

 

If God is everything—the universes, the planets, the beings on those planets, the animals, the skies, the oceans, the vegetation, the rock and clay, and all filament, AND if all these attributes are in  perfect harmony, each being what they are, doing what they’re supposed to be doing, existing with each other, moving with the flow, in perfect timing, in sync, then that means that God must be a part of them, or even perhaps, HE is them.

 

AND

 

If He is them, then that means that He is us and we are Him; each given the ability to create anything we want. It’s not blasphemous to state: I AM GOD. We are God, here on earth, in the physical. And as God, we have what’s called free will. You know this. You know you can pick and dismiss anything in your life. That’s free will. So, if we can pick and dismiss all things in our existence, and if we are made in God’s image, that must mean that God is free will.

 

 

So . . .

 

If God is free will, and we are made in God’s image, that means that we can create whatever we want. That means that we can pick and dismiss what we want. That means that we can be what we want. If God is free will then that means He will not stop you from creating what you want because YOU are made in His image and given the freedom to create whatever it is that YOU want to create. And if you know about the law of attraction—ENERGY VIBRATION SEEKS ITS LIKENESS OR EQUIVALENT, then you understand that . . .

 

The law of attraction exists, and it does. And if we are the creators of our worlds, which we are, and if we’re made in God’s image, which we are, and if free will is a part of it is, then that means: GOD WILL NOT STOP CATASTROPHES, which you’ve created. HE WILL NOT STOP POVERTY, which you subconsciously created. HE WILL NOT STOP PAIN AND HEARTACHE, which you created by picking and choosing your desires and battles. DO YOU GET ME?

 

God has given YOU free will. He won’t interfere . . . UNLESS YOU CHOOSE HIM.

 

What if . . .

 

God goes either way? What if He’s here–deep within us, but stays away if we don’t ask for help? If He’s free will, then He’s waiting to be called upon. He’s waiting for us to pick and choose all good things. He’s the law of attraction, who will not stop what you’re subconsciously searching for. So, why are you attracting such catastrophies and heartache? It’s your thinking and core beliefs. Combine it with free will, and guess what? God is not to blame. YOU are to blame.

 

People want to know why the world is so wrong–why their lives are messed-up, and why God has forsaken them. I’m here to tell you that God is divine and pure love, and if you’re not looking for Him, if you’re not seeking love, if you’re not practicing picking and choosing love, then free will is gonna costya.

 

I have ideas. I have insight. I ask questions. I seek answers. I want more. I want to rise above life’s chaos and bullshit and live the best life I can. The big question is . . . do you?

 

Learn about the law of attraction. Learn about your mind and it’s power. Learn what you are. What else is possible should become your mantra.

 

Valentine

FREE WILL WILL COSTYA

I was wondering how I was going to broach this topic. When it comes to God and the law of attraction, and free will, people get confused and leery as to whether they should contemplate the existence of these ideas. They even fear being blasphemous—that entertaining the idea of the law of attraction goes against God.

 

Having said that: if this subject rubs you the wrong way, then please feel free to exit from this blog. If this subject causes you stress, then please feel free to exit from this blog. And lastly. If talking about God brings up the need to debate His existence, or lack thereof, please exit from this blog. For the record, I will not debate God’s existence. I will not debate religion. And I will not debate my beliefs. So, if you’re a debater, you’re in the wrong place. This is a place for exploration and deep reflection. This is a place where hopefully, you’ll find some answers. This is a place that’s deep within my being— located in a non-linear plane whichs knows no space or time, nor bars or walls. This place is my mind. So you’re either willing to listen or free to go. It’s all good. 

 

Moving on . . .

 

If you’ve read my previous articles, then you know I’m an advocate for the law of attraction. I’ve been studying the mind for more than half my life. Does that make me an expert? It does . . . in my world. But I don’t want to come off as a snooty know-it-all. Becoming an expert in any field is based on one’s willingness and perception TO know it all. Everyone is a know-it-all when it comes to their own life. Indeed they are. No person can tell you more about you then you. When it comes to you, you are an expert; hence, so is everyone else, including me. The only difference that may exist between you and me is that I go to tremendous lengths to find answers, and I don’t stop until I get them. Which is something that benefits anyone who’ll listen. Again, I’m not tooting my horn. I’m just stating a fact. 

 

Hundreds of geniuses have written articles concerning their experiences with God and the spirit world. They’ve documented their findings in an effort to help man achieve his purpose—in order for him to reach his spiritual evolution. These masters, dating back thousands’ of years, before Jesus and even before Buddha, knew about God and man’s direct connection to Him. They’ve transcended their earthly ego in order to find God. They knew about the law of God, which simply put is: we are made in His image, and included in that image is his ability to create. (I’m stating a line from Master of the Realm–a true story I wrote of how I connected with the spirit world.)

 

After going through my own spiritual evolutional metamorphosis and coming to the conclusion that we are made in God’s image, including His ability to create, and then after having spirits lead me to study what I was told, only to find out that the greatest minds in the history of mankind said the very same thing, well, that was good enough for me. Of course, I just didn’t let it drop there. I’ve been talking to God every day of my life, asking a gazillion questions about Him, about me and Him, and about the laws which represent Him: such as the law of gravity; the law of cause and effect; the law of attraction; the law of abundance, and so forth. These laws aren’t some hokey-pokey nonsense created to pacify man’s reasoning. These laws aren’t some analogy to justify man’s iniquities. Heck, no! These laws ARE GOD, through and through; therefore, they must be studied and applied by us–those who are made in His image. So, it’s like this:

 

If God is everything—the universes, the planets, the beings on those planets, the animals, the skies, the oceans, the vegetation, the rock and clay, and all filament, AND if all these attributes are in  perfect harmony, each being what they are, doing what they’re supposed to be doing, existing with each other, moving with the flow, in perfect timing, in sync, then that means that God must be a part of them, or even perhaps, HE is them.

 

AND

 

If He is them, then that means that He is us and we are Him; each given the ability to create anything we want. It’s not blasphemous to state: I AM GOD. We are God, here on earth, in the physical. And as God, we have what’s called free will. You know this. You know you can pick and dismiss anything in your life. That’s free will. So, if we can pick and dismiss all things in our existence, and if we are made in God’s image, that must mean that God is free will.

 

 

So . . .

 

If God is free will, and we are made in God’s image, that means that we can create whatever we want. That means that we can pick and dismiss what we want. That means that we can be what we want. If God is free will then that means He will not stop you from creating what you want because YOU are made in His image and given the freedom to create whatever it is that YOU want to create. And if you know about the law of attraction—ENERGY VIBRATION SEEKS ITS LIKENESS OR EQUIVALENT, then you understand that . . .

 

The law of attraction exists, and it does. And if we are the creators of our worlds, which we are, and if we’re made in God’s image, which we are, and if free will is a part of it is, then that means: GOD WILL NOT STOP CATASTROPHES, which you’ve created. HE WILL NOT STOP POVERTY, which you subconsciously created. HE WILL NOT STOP PAIN AND HEARTACHE, which you created by picking and choosing your desires and battles. DO YOU GET ME?

 

God has given YOU free will. He won’t interfere . . . UNLESS YOU CHOOSE HIM.

 

What if . . .

 

God goes either way? What if He’s here–deep within us, but stays away if we don’t ask for help? If He’s free will, then He’s waiting to be called upon. He’s waiting for us to pick and choose all good things. He’s the law of attraction, who will not stop what you’re subconsciously searching for. So, why are you attracting such catastrophies and heartache? It’s your thinking and core beliefs. Combine it with free will, and guess what? God is not to blame. YOU are to blame.

 

People want to know why the world is so wrong–why their lives are messed-up, and why God has forsaken them. I’m here to tell you that God is divine and pure love, and if you’re not looking for Him, if you’re not seeking love, if you’re not practicing picking and choosing love, then free will is gonna costya.

 

I have ideas. I have insight. I ask questions. I seek answers. I want more. I want to rise above life’s chaos and bullshit and live the best life I can. The big question is . . . do you?

 

Learn about the law of attraction. Learn about your mind and it’s power. Learn what you are. What else is possible should become your mantra.

 

Valentine