My heart aches. . .

I cried my eyes out this morning. Literally. Contacts slid right out of my eyes, lashes clumped together and my vision blurred around me.

I sit at my desk, weeping now as I type. My sister says the older I get the more emotional I am, and I agree. I am more sensitive, but I think it’s more a result of how less sensitive the world is becoming.

Today, we awake to yet another senseless killing of a Black Man, #PhilandoCastile. Yesterday it was #AltonSterling. I’m tired yall. Been tired for quite some time. My heart still reels over #TrayvonMartin.

I think the thing that put me over the edge was the fact these men’s deaths were witnessed by their children. Alton’s son wept openly at the news conference with his mother. To hear that baby’s sobs, broke my heart. And then to watch the live streaming of the incident with Philando and hear the women’s 4 year old daughter say, “It’s O.K., Mommy. It’s O.K. I’m right here with you.” My spirit is broken.

How do we fix this, yall? I don’t know. We live is a society of desensitized culture. Watching bodies covered with blood, strewn about highways, covered on cold streets is a daily occurrence. We are no longer concerned with the HUMAN condition. We are busy validating our reason for arguing that “Black Lives Matter.” We are busy validating our Right to Bear Arms. We are busy refuting petitions that call for the removal of people from their jobs for using their Freedom of Speech. We are busy watching our electoral system become a 3 ring circus with moral-less candidates spewing hate-language like elementary school fairy tales.

These incidents happen and we all return to our rallying cry. Begging, pleading, “demanding” justice; but in the end, it never really comes. And when “right” is finally served, it’s always a day late and a dollar short. I’m tired yall.

I’m scared for my daughters. I’m frightened for my step-sons. I’m frightened for my own brother who was a victim of a system that was designed to destroy him, tag him for life and punish him when he was just a boy, as if he slayed the “Masta'” himself.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any solutions. I’m just in a state of befuddlement yall.

Today I cry. Hopefully we won’t add another name to the wall of senseless murders. But tomorrow, I pack away these tears. Continue to pray for God’s covering over my Children, my family and all those people that I’m connected with. I will continue to talk to them, try to be as honest and open as I can. And then I will find a way to take action.

#BlackLivesMatter

 

In Search of the Christmas Spirit, Part II

With Christmas just two days away, I have GOT to find my Christmas Spirit. I guess this year it’s been slow coming because the “Mister” is on the other side of the world defending the country, and I feel a little guilty celebrating when he’s so far away. All of the gifts have been purchased and delivered, yet more than half of them are still in the bags or in the boxes they were shipped in.  Heck, some nights we haven’t even bothered to cut on the Christmas Tree lights, but at least the tree is up and decorated, huh?

Well, tonight we decided to shake off these “Bah Hum Bugs” and go in search of the elusive “Christmas Spirit.” And boy, what did we find! We traveled 3 miles to the famed Garrison Street in Point Loma where the holiday spirit was in STEREO! With lights, sounds and kiddies all a joy, it was very difficult not to be excited that Santa’s big night is near. For more than 30 years, the neighbors on Garrison Street have been sharing their holiday joy with hundreds of visitors. There were tons of families, tour buses and even a few limo tours. We initially were going to do a drive by, but after our first pass, we couldn’t resist parking and strolling through the Winter Wonderland. It was amazing!

If you haven’t been, this is a must visit. It totally changed my excitement about Holiday lights.  See for yourself!

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In Search of the Christmas Spirit

‘Tis the Season! I have been slowly but surely trying to find the Christmas spirit. It seems like Thanksgiving sped by and I haven’t had the opportunity to decompress and gear up for Santa.  However, having two small kids at home, I have to summon the essence of the holidays somehow, and in a hurry. So this year, I began my effort with a new twist on a holiday favorite as well as the original version: Debbie Allen’s “The Hot Chocolate Nutcracker” and California Ballet’s “The Nutcracker.” I so glad I decided to attend both!

Debbie Allen’s version was a high-spirited interesting twist on this holiday classic. Holding true to “The Nutcracker’s” central theme, Allen put a fun and entertaining spin on this production.  As an added bonus, “The Hot Chocolate Nutcracker” was filmed and aired it on BET this year.  We decided to wait until we saw it live before we watched it on TV so we would go into the show without any expectations. 

This year also featured the Ms. Raven-Symoné. She was fantastic! From her singing to her dancing, she reminded us all of why we first fell in love with her on the Cosby Show. She is a true talent. After the show, I was admittedly disappointed to not see Ms. Debbie Allen herself, not even during the curtain call. However, I realized when we watched the show on BET, that Ms. Allen was so smartly disguised as one of the mice who stole the show, I didn’t even recognize her! In all the dancing was fabulous; the incorporation of the aerial dancers, stilt walkers, and stepping, made the show even more enjoyable for my little ones. I have to say we all left with a little more Christmas glimmer in our souls!

Next up, my oldest daughter and I attended the California Ballet’s version of “The Nutcracker”. We were both excited because my daughter studied ballet for years and this would bring back memories of her on stage. We opted to leave the little ones at home because it would be a late night and we just wanted to have a “grown girls” night out.  (My daughter will be 20 in February.) First I must say, the set was gorgeous! From the opening scene to the last, I was impressed by the attention to detail that went into creating each set. I’d also like to give special thanks to the California Ballet because we went on their military appreciation night and our two tickets cost us a whopping $5 total! Not only did we have great seats, but the performance was phenomenal! The dancing, music and imagery were outstanding!

I can say, after our marathon of Nutcracker, it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere I go…. Here’s hoping you all have found your own holiday cheer!  Happy Holidays to you and yours and may your days be sunny and bright!

 

These STREETS is talking. . .

Everyone who knows me knows that my guilty pleasure is watching ignorant azz reality TV.  Real Housewives, Love & Hip Hop, Married to Medicine, Basketball Wives. . . the more trashy the better.

Recently a line from Love & Hip Hop has become my favorite slogans. It’s when Rich Dollaz tries to get Peter Gunz and Erica Mena to sit down and squash their so-called “beef.” Erica, in CLASSIC Erica Mena no-holds-barred-mouth-is-unparralled fashion states to Peter, “Let’s talk about the streets,” Erica says, “cause the streets is talking and you a f—ing clown out in these streets.” I loved this!  This one line summarizes what has become of our culture today.  We have allowed the “STREETS” to dictate the value of our lives.

Case in point: MiMi Faust from the Atlanta version of the show. I guess the STREETS told her in order to stay relevant, go shoot a full blown porno with a low-life wannabe rapper that has questionable sexuality issues and be sure to include classic footage of your azz swinging off a shower rod while you getting pounded. . . “These STREETS is talking and now they saying you’s a HO to the 5th degree.” The only one who has come up in this situation is whats-his-name???  And let’s not even talk about he totally was not worried when all the melee broke out at the reunion show. MiMi, please get a clue.

Case in point: Chris Brown’s most recent mugshot was “leaked” just before he goes to trial for the brawl involving him and his bodyguard. If it wasn’t for bad press, poor Chris wouldn’t get no press. “These STREETS is talking and they saying CHRIS! PLEASE! SIT! YO! AZZ! DOWN!”

Case in point:  It appears that toddlers have become great lawyers. Their argument skills are off the chain. I still laugh ’til I’m crying at Mathew’s argument with his mom. “These STREETS is talking and they saying Linda YOU don’t listen!”

Case in point: My favorite gal, Erica Mena just announced that she and lil’ Bow Wow (Shad Moss) are engaged… after six months of dating. Now I ain’t one to gossip, but neither one of these two have been known to take break-ups well… good luck to the both of you, but the STREETS is talking and they saying, “These Ho’s ain’t loyal.”

And Finally, Case in point: Recently Sheryl Underwood revealed she overheard a conversation of some other well-known comedians talking about her some umpteen years ago. She said she had kept the secret until this day and had used the experience as a learning opportunity. Well, the STREETS is talking and they saying out of the ladies who were involved, Sommore, Adele Givens, and Laura Hayes…ummm Sheryl checked yall azzes boo! She gettin’ them major network checks!  (But ummm…. Rickey Smiley didn’t have to drop dime on Sheryl’s messy ways like that. lol)

And Finally, Case in Point: Was I the only one who was heartbroken when it was announced that Kandi Burruss’s “A Mother’s Love” would NOT be coming to a city near me??  What a shame, that the tour fell through.  But these STREETS is talking and they saying the promoter is bouncing paychecks and what-not.  WHAT YOU NOT GOING TO DO IS WRITE ME NO BAD CHECK FOR MY PAYCHECK!!  Homie don’t play that!  Well, I hope they are able to find another promoter who can actually follow through with the tour. But ummm….I won’t be buying tickets until the week of. ijs 🙂

 

 

Oh! Oh! Ooohhhoh! It’s Your Birthday!!!

Today is my wiser, MUCH OLDER sister’s birthday. We started the day off in our usual tradition of BabyGirl calling and singing her latest rendition of her birthday song, and BAAAABAY, did she have a song today! It was replete with dance movements and arm waving and actually made me want to throw on my club gear and “drop it like it’s hot.” (You know I’m too classy to ‘twerk’.)

Well, I guess my sister and I have both reached another remarkable milestone that we both probably never fathomed would happen for us. Today she’s the big 4-5, and during our “early morning” convo she mentioned, she was starting to get worried because my cousins told her about some crazy dreams that involved our late uncle and she probably was worried he was coming back from the dead to warn her. . . chile bye! I told her don’t let them two suck her into that insanity.  He probably was coming back to make sure she was heeding his promise to her that she would live at his house. (And let me tell you she never plans to leave either!)

But today is remarkable because she is a decade (plus) older than our mother was when she passed and THAT is something to celebrate!!

When I tell folks about how she terrorized me as a child (once she actually tried to drown me in the sink) they think I’m exaggerating. But seriously she is the reason for 10 or more years of my life I thought that I was going to die of cancer (because my zodiac sign is cancer). Even to this day she finds ways to get into my brain and torture me with our imaginary competitions (that I always throw the towel in on – like that friggin’ 30 day blogging challenge), or with her random “SELFIES” that are like waking nightmares to me. lol (No really, it’s that teasing smile.)  And she is the reason all of my children were confused on what their real names were (she decided no matter what I named them, she would bless them with her own brand of name. . . thus my oldest is “Caitlyn”(she was obsessed with that name in ’95), my middle is “Hunny Bunny”(the tom boy in her gets real uncomfortable if you call her that in public) and my youngest is “Lala”(she insists though, “my name is not ‘lala.’ One day she’ll learn it’s a futile battle!))  This is why I insist they all call her Aunt “Nana” just so we can even out the score (it amuses me that it looks like they’re calling her grandma). lol

Despite all of that, I can honestly say that 31 years of distance made us work harder at building our relationship and she is truly my closest friend. We talk no less that twice a day and every conversation feels like she just left my house an hour ago. She’s still my best advisor because with her Virgo nature, she gives her “no holds barred” honest opinion whether I want to hear it or not. And I can call her a million times a day with nothing particular to say, but our conversations last hours and hours. That was the magic of us working to build that bond.

I can always count on her to send a “put lala on the phone” text, or to telekinetically challenge me to some competition that I don’t want to be involved in, but the fighter in me rises to the challenge every time.  God having blessed me with her, in particular, has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. In her He gave me a sounding board, lawyer, advisor, confidante, ally(except in certain compromising circumstances like when I almost caught federal charges for drug trafficking – read this most for details), friend, keeper of all useless knowledge, and best of all SISTER.

Our relationship is what I consider one of the most defining things in my life, the reason I entitled my book club “Sisters in Spirit” and the reason my email address is “SistersSpirit.”  You see sisters share a unique bond that can’t really be described in words, it’s an experience…

So, Ohhh Ohh Oohhhohhh!  It’s You’re Birthday! To my sister, Cashana!!!

And because she just loves to take pictures of herself and send them to me, here’s my gift to all of you who are reading this blog!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Just Want to Cuss. . .

 

Today is one of those days when, I just feel like shouting for the whole world to kiss my … you get my point. Being a moody Cancer, I understand there will be days that I just don’t feel like going through the motions, playing nice, or even being bothered with anyone.  I just want to be left the F%&# alone.

I try to temper my interactions with others and really try to make the extra effort to watch my facial expressions, my tone and word choice when I talk to others.  But at times, it just gets to be too much and I end up saying exactly what’s on my mind at the time.

I think one of the worst times was when my ex-fiance and I were about to break up. I can’t remember what the exact event was that took me over the edge, but I do remember him calling me, probably for the 100th time that day while I was out with 2 of my girlfriends.  I can’t remember exactly what I said to him, but when I hung up the phone the expression on my girlfriends’ faces told me that I probably should have waited to speak to him when I got home. Instead I unloaded probably 3 months worth of pent-up frustration on in him two minutes… a lethal prescription. Anywho, I did feel bad about what I said, but I probably did at the time mean every word.

Now fast forward to today. I started my day off with someone on the job, a person who had a vendetta against my former boss, coming into the office and speaking badly about her. (My boss left abruptly after a year of harassment). I held my tongue, but boy did I want to let this person have it. Leaving the office to go to a meeting, I pass this person and another person probably commiserating about the same issue and instead of saying something, I walked past like I didn’t even see them.  Then I go to this “conference.” I’m trying to figure out if I’m really upset because it wasn’t really what I expected or if I’m mad because I didn’t win a single door prize. (My sister always tells me to practice two scenarios, and I didn’t). But I’m heavily leaning toward the fact that I’m mad that I didn’t accomplish the goals I set out for attending which were to make new connections, learn how to better deal with my husband’s upcoming deployment, and win a friggin iPad.

Now, I’m sitting here back at work dreading the fact that I told my husband I’d go with him to a Braves baseball game tonight and I’d rather sit in my bedroom and watch paint dry. And just to be honest, there are a few things he’s done this past week that have really grated on my last nerve, but I’ve held my tongue… You KNOW how this is going to end right?

I just want to go somewhere and cuss! I just want to go into a private room and tell all these people exactly what I think of them and not worry about the consequences of hurting their feelings. That’s probably my biggest struggle. Maybe I wouldn’t let things build up to this point, if I didn’t worry about how my message will be received. I don’t want to crush someone’s self-esteem, I just want them to wake the h@#$ hup and realize that the world doesn’t revolve around their azz. And heck just DO WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO!!

Anywho, it’s going to be a whirlwind weekend, and next week I’m traveling so to heck with all this BS! I’m going to party next week like I’m 19 again!!

So have a great weekend y’all! Please pray I don’t blow it this weekend!!

 

 

40! I made it!!!

Laughter and love surrounded me as I marked another milestone in my life,  my 40th birthday. 28 of my family members joined me in New Orleans and we helped renovate a house, ate some of the best soul food I’ve tasted in a while, laughed, drank, sang and just fellowshiped. 

The best moments for me were watching my children interact with their cousins. Walking down Magazine Street with my sisters and best friend.  Sitting back and watching my sister and best friend interact with each other like old friends.  Having my mom cater to my every whim and she made her world famous Kool aid!  Having my nephews embrace me and actually know who I am this time. Shouting ‘TurnUp’ in the middle of Bourbon Street with my cousin’s husband who had a fishbowl of alcohol hanging from his neck.  Seeing my daughter reunite with one of her oldest and dearest friends.  Hearing the patter of my baby girls feet as she squeeled with laughter running through her house filled with family. Seeing my middle daughter connect and bond with her first cousins. And mostly just being surrounded with the love of my family.

Despite all of the happiness and cheer, at the end of the day, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness that at first I couldn’t describe. Then I remembered my brother wasn’t her to share this moment,  and again he didn’t think enough of me to even send me a ‘hbd’ text. Sadness. 

Anywho, I won’t dwell on that because it is what it is and the fact of the matter is I am truly blessed because 28 folks who love me, took time out of their lives to share this occasion with me. They wished me well, gave me great words of wisdom, and most importantly LOVED me enough to show it. 

I am blessed.  

Happy 40th to me! 

 

 

10 Picture Books EVERY Person Should Have on thier Shelves that Celebrate Diversity

 

I recently saw a blog post about “19 Classic Picture Books You Should Have on Your Shelf as an Adult,” and was appalled to not find a single book that featured a person of color. In May I participated in the “We Need Diverse Books” campaign that spoke to this very issue. The lack of acknowledgement of books that feature characters of color in these “top 10” lists, “best of the best” panels, and other public forums.  There is no doubt a need to bring greater awareness to the public about this lack of diversity as there are COUNTLESS books that feature and talk about people from diverse cultures and backgrounds that are just as (if not more) enriching as these featured on these so-called lists.  So, in an effort of equity, I’m presenting my Top 10 List of Picture Books that EVERY Person Should Have on Thier Shelves that Celebrate DIVERSITY.

 

1. NAPPY HAIR by CAROLIVIA HERRON

   

Perhaps the greatest book I’ve read that celebrates one of the biggest struggles most women face in life, their hair. Although, this book received criticism when it was introduced in schools because of the use of the word “Nappy,” I think bold take on this issue is what makes this book so great.  Hands down, my all time favorite book.

 

2. THE BEST RECESS EVER by STEPHANIE MARA DAWSON

 

Because I love reading and feel every child should enjoy the liberation that reading a good story can bring, I love this story about a little girl who has to find balance in her joy of reading and finding good friends.

 

3. DANCING IN THE WINGS by DEBBIE ALLEN & KADIR NELSON

 

Anything illustrated by the incredible Kadir Nelson is a hit simply because of the beauty of his art. Paired alongside this great story of embracing your awkwardness, or whatever makes you different and staying true to your passion makes this a great inspirational story for any age.

 

4. SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL by SHARON DENNIS WYETH

 

This inspirational story that teaches us to look past the bleakness of our surroundings to find hidden beauty in our everyday life.  This book is both inspiring and empowering.

 

5. PLEASE BABY PLEASE by SPIKE LEE & TONYA LEWIS LEE

 

This rhythmic book is playful and funny. Beautifully illustrated, it tells the story that all parents can relate to when trying to coax your children into cooperating.

 

6. BARACK OBAMA: SON OF PROMISE, CHILD OF HOPE by NIKKI GRIMES & BRYAN COLLIER

 

What list would not include this beautifully illustrated story of hope and inspiration about our first African-American President? It tells the story of a little boy of humble beginnings who was surrounded by people who believed in his greatness. Eventually, because of this, he made history and inspired a new generation.

 

7. QUEEN OF THE SCENE by QUEEN LATIFAH & FRANK MORRISON

 

Another beautifully illustrated work, Queen of the Scene brings Queen Latifah’s smart, sassy, inspirational tone to life. This little Queen has got it all, she rules the playground and represents GIRL POWER to the fullest!

 

8. GOIN’ SOMEPLACE SPECIAL by PATRICIA MCKISSICK & JERRY PINKNEY

  

I’m partial to this book not only because the main character ‘Tricia Ann shares the same name as my mother “Patricia Ann” but also because it speaks to the fact that we are all the same. A Coretta Scott King Award recipient, this book gives us a glimpse back into growing up in the Jim Crow South, and how character was built from the values our family instilled in us.

 

9. MEET DANITRA BROWN by NIKKI GRIMES & FLOYD COOPER

 

Another Coretta Scott King Award recipient, this book is fun and vibrant and talks about spirited Danitra Brown and her best friend Zuri. Melodically written in Grimes skilled poetry, the book sings a song about life and friendship.

 

10. WHO’S GOT GAME: THE LION OR THE MOUSE by TONI MORRISON & SLADE MORRISON

 

This updated twist on a classic Aesop fable, take a hilarious look into bullying and “who’s got game.”

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All of these titles, beautiful, funny, inspiring, uplifting, poignant and timeless share a unique perspective of our diverse culture. We should never be quick to put together a list of “greats” without considering including titles from diverse perspectives, because you are missing a large voice in the fabric of our nation.

It is my hope that this list will inspire someone to go out and get one or two of these titles and share with someone they love in their life.

 

 

FLASHBACK: Hell if I’m not My Damn Hair!!!

It’s been awhile since I’ve updated, but you know how life can get very busy at times. Anywho, I thought I’d share with you one of the funniest moments of my life. I needed a laugh today and hopefully you will laugh too!
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Originally posted January 2008

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Why does life always present us with trials that seemingly at first sight attempt to defeat us. Either by challenging our morality, or making us question our sanity? Why oh Why Lord?

Those were the only intelligent words that I could form, when I came home Monday evening to find that my four-year old baby girl had cut off her HAIR!!

Devastation isn’t even the word to describe the rush of emotion that swelled over me when I went into the bathroom to find what was left of her beautiful African tresses. . .

Immediately, my mind went to mourning the days of admiring her long, flowing ponytails dangling on the side of her head. I had spent the past four years painstakingly taking care of her hair. Loving it and pouring into it hours of TLC. I was preparing her for an adulthood of vanity centered around her hair. I imagined her as a “prissy” pre-teen, with a cute bang and the ponytail that would dip, just so down the back of her head. Or as a “dainty” teenager, with long, freshly permed hair wrapped perfectly around her doe-shaped eyes. Or even as a “sophisticated” adult, with a jazzy perfectly coiffed style that would make others envy how beautiful her hair was. . .

“Was” is exactly what it is now. Long gone are the hot lazy days we spent at the park. Me watching those two beautiful ponytails blow in the wind.

Or even delighting in the sound of those hard round balls clicking as she swung her ponytails back and forth. Careless and fancy free.

After I collect my bearings, I go to the phone to call my older sister. I don’t know why the hell I did that. Did I forget, she’s just joined the masses of women of color who now are going au-natural? We’ve had countless conversations about her new-found freedom in “SisterLocks.” Her new mantra is “I am not my hair.”

 

Why the hell did I call her looking for a sympathetic ear over the disaster that is now my daughter’s head?

“Tiffany, remember when you were five?” I could hear the sarcasm dripping all over her voice.

“That was a long time ago!” I whined.

“Well, they say you get it all back. I told you that child was going to be your match. Remember? Remember what you did?”

Of course I didn’t want to remember. In fact after Mama had beat me to within an inch of my life, I think I’ve completely wiped the memory of how I cut my own hair off as a child.

“This is not what I want to hear right now!” I pouted. “Your niece looks like a damn fool! What am I going to do??” I plead.

Just then, I caught a glimpse of my favorite photo of her. Clad in her cowboy hat and vest, resting on top of a “real live pony Mommy!” as she expressed to me. My daughter, and those beautiful, long, ponytails!

I was sent into another fit of tears. Then my sister, the provider of wisdom that she is, reminds me of who my daughter is. This four-year old of mine, who constantly dances to the beat of her own drum. She is not the “prissy”, “dainty” or even “sophisticated” type AT ALL. She would rather be outside running in the wind, tackling the “weak” boys on the football field. Or in her room with her cars, dinosaurs, lizards, and trucks. Hell, I have to threaten or bribe her to even try on a dress!

She is full of love for rock and roll, and everything that has NOTHING to do with being a girl! As a matter of fact, as I think about it, she is quite happy with her new do. Even if I think she looks like a fool, she herself, thinks it looks rather cool! And perhaps I have lost my damn mind….

No I haven’t, she looks like a damn fool! MY FOUR YEAR OLD HAS A MOHAWK!!

 

Sorry, Shana, you’re wrong. We ARE our hair. And God forgive me for being so vain. . . She gonna grow her damn hair back! Like it Or NOT!!

LYLAS!

**Tiffany**

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Both I and my daughter remember that day VIVIDLY! I was completely and utterly devastated that she had cut her hair, as you can see COMPLETELY BALD on both sides.  She, after that day vowed to never cut her hair again. It wasn’t worth the agony of having her hair brushed 3 times a day for the next 6 months. LOL 

 

Her hair did eventually grow back, and I guess I did realize in that moment that my daughter was a unique individual with her own beliefs on the way her life should be.  She is 10 now, and let me tell you, not a day goes by that she doesn’t insert her own opinion or style into the way things should be in the Smith household. That’s why I love her so much!!

 

 

Excuse me, you’re with WHO???

OH LAWD!! So, I decided to ship several of the boxes from my storage back to San Diego on Greyhound. I was tired and frustrated the day I took them to be shipped, but was sooo glad I could just take them 10 minutes up the street to be dropped off. Who cared they would be shipping from a Wash ‘N Go laundromat that looked….ummmm a little bit seedy???

The lady who helped me was VERY nice and seemed knowledgeable about how the process worked, so I was good with sending my packages from there, despite the fact that she looked like a recovering drug addict (she had about 2 teeth in her mouth, her hair was disheveled, she was blind in one eye… you get the picture). But I looked like heck too, so who am I to judge??

That was Saturday… Fast forward to today. I’m sitting at work and get a call from a Det. Myers with the DEA in Phoenix. APPARENTLY, my boxes were tagged as “suspicious” because they were addressed to and from San Diego (Oh snap, I did that with the books I shipped too…) He also noted the way they were taped was indicative of “drug trafficking.” WHAT THE…??? He wanted permission to open my boxes and inspect them. He offered to call me back after they had them opened.

THAT WAS THE LONGEST 10 MINUTES OF MY LIFE!! If you know me, then you know how my mind can ramble all over the place in a matter of seconds. So my first thought is, are they sending the team to arrest me and asked me to wait by the phone so they’d know where to send the SWAT team?? Then I though, did that lady put DRUGS in my boxes after I left (despite the fact I watched her triple tape them to secure them). Next thought: Am I about to be on the 6 o’clock news labeled as a DRUG TRAFFICKER??? SHOOT, I would wear this outfit today of all days!! I should have gotten Porsha Stewert’s Glam Squad to hook me up, so I could have a fabulous mugshot like hers… My final thought, my children are going to social services, because Hubby is out to sea. MisManners and BabyGirl will never make it in a group home…. you get the picture right?

Sooooo Det. Myers calls back and asks if I’m okay. I tell him HECK NO!! This is not my life! I don’t DO DRUGS, I DON’T ASSOCIATE WITH DRUG DEALERS and I sure as HELL (excuse my french) DONT TRAFFIC DRUGS!!! He finds this hysterical. He says that my packages checked out as okay and have been put back on the bus on their way to California. He says for future reference these are things I should avoid to prevent having to speak with him again:
1. Don’t label the boxes to and from San Diego when they are being shipped cross-country.
2. Don’t put all that ridiculous tape across the boxes because that’s what traffickers use to ward off the scent from the dogs.
3. Don’t ship a box that says “Christmas Decorations” in the middle of May…looks suspicious.
4. Thank my HUSBAND for the generic azz last name “Smith” because the traffickers use “Joe Smith” “John Smith” “Tiffany Smith” all the time. . .

Anywho, he told me he was very disappointed they didn’t find a Kilo of cocaine in my boxes because he wanted to escape the dry Arizona heat and make a drive to Sunny San Diego. I told him I’d rather NEVER hear from his azz again!

Whew!! Thank you Jesus!!

P.S. Only 2 of my boxes were on the bus, so I may get another call when the other two pass through that area….