Friendship

I saw this somewhere and it said, author unknown. I wish I could tell that person thank you. You made me a better friend and helped me to understand that to some people I was just an acquaintance. 

There is a difference between being an acquaintance and being a friend. An acquaintance is someone whose name you know, who you see every now and then, who you probably have something in common with and who you feel comfortable around.

It's a person that you can invite to your home and share things with. But they are people who you don't share your life with, whose actions sometimes you don't understand because you don't know enough about them.

On the other hand, a friend is someone you love. Not that you are "in love" with them, but you care about them and you think about them when they are not there. The people you are reminded of when you see something they might like, and you know this because you know them so well. They are the people whose pictures you have and whose faces are in your head regardless. 

Friends are the people you feel safe around because you know they care about you. They call just to see how you are doing, because a friend doesn't need an excuse. They tell you the truth, the first time, and you do the same. You know that if you have a problem, they are there to listen. 

Friends are the people who won't laugh at you or hurt you, and if they do hurt you they try hard to make it up to you. They are the people you love, regardless of whether you realize it.

Friends are the people you cried with when you got rejected from colleges and during the last song at the prom and at graduation. They are the people that when you hug them, you don't think about how long to hug and who's going to be the first one to let go.

Maybe they are the people that hold the rings at your wedding, or maybe they are the people who give you away at your wedding, or maybe they are the people you marry. Maybe they are the people who cry at your wedding because they are happy or because they are proud.

They are the people who stop you from making mistakes and help you when you do. They are are the people whose hand you can hold, or you can hug or give them a kiss and not have it be awkward because they understand the things you do and they love you for them.

They stick with you and stand by you. They hold your hand. They watch you live and you watch them live and you learn from them. Your life is not the same without them.

Author Unknown 

Lesson Learned

Letting Go

Letting go isn't easy but sometimes it's necessary.

Protect the Babies

I know I've been talking about my online dating experience but I had to take a break. My computer was in the shop. Today on my newly repaired PC I tackle the world one word at a time.

Something has been bothering me. Two days ago I saw on my newsfeed that a mother (an acquaintance) had posted a picture of her seven year old daughter in an opened back shirt for Valentines Day standing in the (look back at it) pose. Let me pretend innocence and say she wanted us to see the back of her baby's shirt, despite the sexual connotation of the pose itself. I try to stay out of making suggestions to parents because MANY get offended and throw the (you don't have any children so hush) card.


Fast forward to today and I see two more photos of girls under ten with these provocative poses. I don't get it. Why are we encouraging this overt sexuality in our babies? Don't the predators have enough to work with? Why serve them your child's innocence on a platter?

I get it, we live in a more open world. And don't think I'm just saying girls, because the boys are at danger too. It's just that whenever I see parents posting pictures of their kids in a provocative nature I get antsy. I wonder, "what the hell were you thinking?" 

I still believe in the future of our children. I hurt for them when I see that the adults that should be their protectors are leading them like lambs to slaughter. Even as I write this I feel the heat from the tears that are forming in my eyes. 

I just want to know, who will protect the babies.

There Was A Time

There was a time when all a woman did was attend a sock hop or cotillion and she would be swarmed by a room filled with possible suitors. At the beginning of the evening, she dressed in her most fashionable ensemble and armed with a beautiful smile and eagerness to please to parade herself before a throng of desirable young men.

Then someone told us that we were wrong for that. We were making ourselves out to be products and merchandise. The years went by and we stopped parading ourselves in that manner and men forgot how to woo. They seemed to have forgotten how to bring flowers and candy and take us to the movies. We forgot how to smile and accept being showered with attention.

We lost relationships and forgot how to relate. Somewhere along the line we fell out of love. We started
networking. A man across a crowded room is no longer a candidate for a relationship; he’s now someone to pitch our product or service to. We can’t see that in his eyes is desire and we begin to “pitch” our accomplishments, when he wanted to say, “Excuse me, miss. What’s your name? Are you free tonight?”

Follow me on Facebook

#SingleInACoupledWorld

Feeling Love

This is a time of love. At least for the next nine days or so. There's something about a day that focuses on couples that can make a person reflect on their solitude. So the other day I decided to fall in love. It was as hard as I thought it would be.

The first thing I fell in love with was a cup of coffee from a coffee spot that I frequent.

The barrister said, "Hey you."
Then told another customer, "She's a regular."
To which I replied, "You know I'm in love with this place."
The first sip was beautiful. Fragrant with the right amount of sweetness. I sighed at that perfect cup.

I sat at a table outside, a woman passed me walking her puppy. The dog turned around and ran to where I was sitting. I laughed as I reached down to pet him. He licked my hand. The woman ran over and said, "I'm sorry he doesn't usually do that. It's must be love at first sight".

Then a lady sat at the table next to me with her baby. Overwhelmed by her baby, baby bag and stroller, she spilled her drink. I could see the frustration on her face. I gave her some of my tissues and assisted her in the clean up. Then the baby started crying. The mother put one hand on her forehead. I sat at their table and asked, "Do you mind?"

I picked up the baby and began to talk to him and he laughed and giggled and grinned. She said, "You have a gift". I returned him to his mother and left.

I then realized that love was all around me, waiting to be embraced. And I smiled.

I'm on Facebook. Let's Talk Ali In Print

Adventures In Online Dating

I found this the other day and it got me thinking. Love should be self sustaining and all encompassing. (Well it's what I was taught). But the practically states that we need more than love. After all, "Love don't pay the bills". Right?

Well, even with that thought, I (after much hesitation) joined an online dating site. Why hesitation? Have you seen the show about the people that pretend to be other people on the internet? There are some real crazies out there. I don't know what it is about the internet that brings out the nutty in people.

First of all, I had no idea that there were so many companies brokering love online. I mean legitimate sites not counting the "buy a foreign bride" ones.

Seriously, we really need to talk about that! But just not now. 

I started to look up the most popular along with the ones I had seen advertised. Especially the ones that I had seen that said FREE TRIAL. I'm not above falling in love (or like) for free. I was definitely prepared to put it on a credit card that I didn't really use often anyway. But if by the end of the 30 days it starts to look hinky, in the words of N'Sync "Bye, Bye, Bye".

Not that I'm on a time constraint, but I decided to sign up for two sites simultaneously. One site claimed that they were responsible for 120,000 marriages yearly. Considering that statistics state that 50% of marriages end in divorce, I'm not sure that they really should be using that as a selling point. Just saying.

The other site that I ventured to explore had a really cute commercial that I'd been seeing at least 3 times a day. The universe is obviously not my friend, as I saw it as being a little pushy by "arranging" to have this commercial run so many times while I try to eat my cookie dough ice cream and watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory.

I now have to set up a profile for both accounts. But that's a story for another day.

I'm on Facebook. Let's Talk Ali In Print

Bills Mean...

At the end of the month there always seems to be a new bill. After I've paid utilities, insurance, grocery, credit cards other living expenses then some other miscellaneous shows up. Today at the mailbox, I threw them all up and laughed.

I could complain about them because something just hit me. Every month the bills come, and every month I pay them. But that wasn't what hit me this morning. What made me happy was that every month the bill collectors knew exactly where to find me. I know the neighbors may have thought I lost my mind, but I haven't.

As I collected the envelopes from the freshly cut grass and walked toward the door of where I live, I smiled. Bills are good, I thought. Bills are good. My grandfather told me that once but I have thought of it since he died.

I never thought of it this way before and I'm grateful for my blessings because next month when I see those bills I'll remember....

I'm not homeless.

Will You Remember Me - Vera

My paternal grandmother was the best grandma in the world (to me). She was straight talking and plain speaking. I miss her often. Every Sunday afternoon we'd go to her house for treats and if we didn't get them, she'd get upset with my Father.

She used to make a hot lunch for my dad every Wednesday and he would go to sit with her while they caught up. One Wednesday, either my dad forgot or was late going for lunch, my grandmother walked to his store, threw the packed lunch on the table and started walking back home. My father then got in the car and tried to coax her into the vehicle so he could carry her home. Long story short, my dad ended up driving alongside until she got to her house, where she went inside, slammed the door and locked him out.

She was a small framed, short tempered woman that raised her six children on her own after her husband died while the was young (late twenties I think). A strong woman that once said, when asked if she would marry again, "No other man is going to raise E____ children". She was stubborn. She was a seamstress/shopkeeper that still got home in time to make meals for her family. Even though it wasn't much, they were fed and educated and raised.

Once my parents when to a funeral and left us at her house. She said, "When mother and father forsake you, your old grandmother will take you up". I think about that to this day. It was funny the way she said it but also the best thing anyone could say. She was saying she was there.

I smile when I think about her. And I wonder what kind of legacy I'll leave and if anyone will remember.

Will You Remember Me - How Will You Remember Me?

So the story of the woman found in her apartment three years after her death, still bothers me. I want to be remembered!

I'm a church girl. My parents are preachers, so I've been in church all my life. I had a youth leader that I will never forget. She was the worst youth leader to walk the planet probably. Yes, I'm exaggerating. But she was pretty awful. I assume she hated the position and I often wondered if she even liked young people. 

Every time she came to youth meetings it was as if someone was infringing on her time and like we should feel privileged that she graced us with her presence. She was always engaging us in debates about whether being from the inner city made us "hood kids". That wouldn't be bad if ever so often she wouldn't punctuate it by scolding the girls in the group by telling them she wouldn't be surprised if they became teen mothers. 

Now that I think about her, she was slightly psychotic. Anyone that projects those feeling and those kind of ideals on impressionable minds and people she should be molding had to have some kind of loopy tendencies. Funny thing is, we (kids) never reported her. 

She also had authority issues. She was always at odds with the church overseers. I was a kid but it was obvious that she had issues. I remember the last time I saw her at church she went into the office, tendered her resignation and promptly exited the building. All during Sunday morning service. The church office was beyond the pulpit at that time so she had to pass the entire congregation to do that. Why not wait until the end of service? Dramatic much?

Well the other day in the newspaper, I saw an obituary with someone of the same name. I wasn't sure if it was her but my memories were filled with her shouting at us, putting us down and her general unfairness. Then I turned the page.

I remembered.

Will You Remember Me? Part 2

I often wonder who will remember me. I know my parents will and I assume my siblings will. But with my constant interaction with people I wonder how many of them would say, "That girl/woman...". I remember my grandparents often. I think of school friends one or two of them haunt my mind when I think of school fights and arguments.

I used to do youth work. I wonder if the kids there will remember how they often came to my workplace and stayed there until time to go home. I wonder if they'll remember pizza Fridays. I used to work for a Pastor, I wonder if he'll remember how spent days and nights for three months clearing up his accounting.There was point where I worked at a school, it was in the cafeteria but I wonder who remembers the lady that they had to pay, the one they said always made them smile.

As a singer who will say a song I sang touched them, made them think, gave them goosebumps. I was at a street festival a few months ago and ran into a director that I had worked with. With his eyes lit he said, "I thought about you last week. I was listening to the radio, I turned it off and thought, 'Ali Cole, that girl could sing her a__ off, I wonder where she is?' and here you are." I wonder...

Who will remember me?

Will You Remember Me?

Ever so often, something grabs my attention and forces me into a long hard think. The other day while watching Netflix I stumbled across a documentary and it has since left me a little unnerved. The documentary was about a woman named Joyce Vincent and according to what I read she had been found in her apartment dead after three years. 

As I watched this unfortunate occurrence, it saddened and angered me. But most of all it made me reflective. Has my life made enough of an impact on the universe that people would be concerned enough to look for me if I simply didn't show up one day? 

The interesting thing is that this woman knew people, people knew her. They described her as bubbly and charismatic. I'm bubbly and charismatic. They spoke of how she connected with so many people. Mentioned that people found her affectionate and a joy to be around. I thought about it.... Joyce could be anyone. Joyce could be ME!

I've been thinking about this for a few days now, and I hope that I'm not so easily forgotten.

Just think about it.