let me just mention...

It's not how you were raised that makes you who you are.  It is how you cope with situations in your life growing up that mold you.  I don't even believe that the way you cope is something that can be learned.  I truly believe that it is innate in us, that you either instinctively and depending on your efficacy of reflex, fists up or hovering under, are your two choices.  Am I naive enough to think there are only two types of people in this world?  No.  Those two choices, buffered by high school, polished by relationships, sanded down by college, etc...evolve into modified versions, resulting in by products of it's origin.  It is modifications and tweeks within those two that make up our circle of comfort.

I have two sisters, we grew up with the same two parents, same household, same life normal/typical child rearing ways. And we are so extremely different, the statement, "it's not even funny" does not even slightly do it justice.  It's pretty obvious who I am, because you can see me right away, transparency is my middle name and the lack of filter is my first.  The common denominator in most of the conflicts I find in my life is me.  However, is it because I pick and choose my battles poorly, or is it because my fists are always up?  If I hovered, by default the conflict would always belong to you.  Whatever...life reflection only gives you the ability to have a platinum memory, and I'm looking to maintain my bronze memory, that way I can frequently forget the people who hate me.

Remember my fancy desire to have a memorable New Years?  Something real pearl clinching worthy?  Well, I got that...in the comfort of my own home.  We, as in Marcus, had it all planned out.  Sir Richard, remember him?  He came into town, again, and the itinerary was in full force.  Fancy dinner, because that's what we do...Fancy party, with a Fancy dress...Fancy dancing and Fancy cocktails...all for the bargain price of a Fancy Benjamin.  It never lego'd together just right, sure the blocks were starting to stack, and the tower was mighty high, but the click wasn't audible, and we reserved a table for "whoever wanted to show up" at our house.  Last minute, Ese'me Street catered a party and it was fun.  The kind of fun you remember.  The kind of fun that moves me to alliteration.  My propaganda...in the form of memorable and impressive indentions deriving palpability (my word), accessible in these exclusive 4x6 "time stoppers".

Who is this Pinterest, and why are they at my party's?

A few of our VIPs

Remember undershooting, well...how's overshooting for ya?

Ludacris showing up, incarnated in Jennifer Lewis form, then finding out you are "sorta" related to your unit pharmacist...big plus

It was the best of times, with the best of crowds...an unexpected surprise was reason enough to keep Adan around

And yes, this completely solidifies the horrendous person that is our neighbor.  Remember her?  The one that pushes me to the brink of human bowling her children.

Did not want it any other way...about the biggest adult slumber party I've ever seen...and hosted


My husband and I were on our back patio/porch just winding the night down between us, and talking about our blessed 2011, and how we must remain faithful in 2012, no matter what trials we happen to be up against.  We have to stay true and faithful.  We have been blessed beyond belief this last year, and sometimes when it's that good, the human in us/me, doubts my future in anticipation of "something bad must happen next".  Do I honor that to be a truth, in my soul, I DO NOT.  But I would be lying if it didn't swim around and cause a mental hurricane from time to time.  Not 30 mins later, while planning out a photography class with my friend Ceci, and not boring you with all the details of what was the "wreck", we had our home shattered.  Luckily for us, Marcus and I did not go down the victim path, or let this incident end our night, much less start our new year with anything other than happiness.  We believe that through our trials, we are drawn very close to our Lord, and it is in clearing the rubbage that we allow him to truly be our Saviour.