A blog about anything or sometimes about nothing. A place for me to write and post my feelings or opinions on things ranging from parenting to waiting tables to living in America to daily observations and my personal experiences. Sometimes I just want to give people a humorous read and make them laugh at the end of a trying day.
As anxious and ambiguous as I've been about moving from my home state of over fifty six years and relocating to Orlando, Florida... have never felt prouder of my new city as I did today.
When we first moved here last year, Massey and I drove around downtown Orlando for a day to check out our new city and drove past the Pulse nightclub. It was the sight of one of the deadliest mass shootings in U.S. history.
Forty nine innocent people died in that club, simply just there to have a fun time. Dozens of others were injured. The place was an iconic impromptu memorial and gave me chills as we drove by.
The city had all kind of things going on this past week to mark the one year anniversary. There were numerous 4.9k runs, blood drives, art exhibits and a huge memorial service planned at Lake Eola, a pretty big lake located smack dab in the heart of downtown Orlando.
I didn't have to work until six thirty so watched the local news pretty much all day, following the events and interviews.
There was one remarkable interview with a city commissioner, who also happened to be openly gay and has served in public office for decades. She was talking about last year, when a day or two after the shootings a vigil was held at Lake Eola for the victims. She said they expected about a hundred people to attend but well over a thousand showed up, completely surrounding the entire lake.
Then she said something I don't think I ever heard about that vigil. She said just as the vigil started that rainy afternoon in 2016...the clouds suddenly broke.
And just like that...
A complete rainbow appeared over their heads.
Wait...it gets even better.
Just as the rainbow stretched across the sky above and everyone looked up to see... a flock of exactly forty nine birds together flew over Lake Eola.
This was the actual picture taken. I found it on the internet. (you can google anything these days)
If that isn't The Hand of God,Telling us to Love... what is?
Tonight they held the first anniversary vigil to celebrate and remember the victims.
Looked like a sell out crowd to me, and #OrlandoStrong!
It even seemed telling to me that on this exact same day, the first thing to show up on my FB memory timeline this morning was this Paulo Coelho quote from The Alchemist...shared to me from Massey a few years back.
The love felt in, around and throughout this city, my new city over the past year and especially in the past week or so has been an amazing think to witness.
You don't choose your personal calling, it chooses you.
Dr. Seuss put it perfectly.
Today was a day when the hair stood up on the back of my neck and told me time and time again as I watched the events unfold, I live in a pretty great city and hope to make it an even better one.
You know, when I was in high school I can't remember or think of losing even one classmate. I know a group of four kids got really hurt in a car wreck one time but certainly never lost anyone to suicide or overdose.
I bet at least ten kids who grew up along and with my own kids have lost their young lives to overdose or addiction in the past three or four years. One kid who grew up across the street from us was shot in the chest and killed by another guy in a local bar after an argument. Totally senseless.
At my high school, the worst thing anyone ever did was smoke cigs on the designated smoking grounds or a little pot in their car or use fake IDs to go clubbing in Underground Atlanta, when the drinking age was eighteen. The Stoners hung out with their own hippie friends but were basically good people. I can say for sure that no one ever did Heroin...yet today's kids are falling victim to it right and left. A kid who used to spend the night at our house with Zach when both were in elementary school just died from a Heroin overdose a few short weeks ago.
He was a good kid from a good family. Addiction doesn't discriminate.
When I worked at Mama Lucia's in Newnan before working at the airport, I worked with one of the cutest, brightest young guys who was from a great family. He had a great personality and we had a blast working together. I lost touch with him after he quit working there.
Do you know how shocked I was to hear of his overdose from Heroin a year later? I wouldn't have imagined that happening to that bright of a guy in a million years, but it surely did. I also can't imagine how his mother survived that much of a crushing devastation. I'm not sure I could.
When Zach was in high school he lost at least five classmates to addiction. That simply boggles my tiny mind.
When I think of Heroin, I think of the late sixties and seventies along with the likes of Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix or John Belushi...not high school kids from Coweta County who grew up along side all three of my own children.
I'm not sure what these kids were thinking, if they were at all. I have heard that the high is instantly and intensely addictive.
When the latest kid died this past week or so, I immediately sent Zach a text. Just checking in and to tell him how sorry I was to hear about Joe's tragic death. He sent back this exact text:
"It's okay Mom, that's one thing you never have to worry about with me."
While that was very comforting to read (and believe him) it also made me realize how extremely lucky I have been with all three of my children.
I've always been a little (lot) more than annoyingly persistent when it comes to what my kids are doing and who they are doing it with.
You need to.
You have to.
When my Mom Radar gets a ping on it, I'm all over it and don't let go.
You shouldn't.
You can't.
When Zachary got into trouble at the age of eighteen, he took the fall. We didn't swoop in and rescue...couldn't have even if we'd wanted to. It was during a time when we were broke as jokes. I wish I could convey to you how hard it was for me to watch him be sentenced to thirty days in the county prison. I was crushed and pretty sure he was scared shitless. I got him out on work release every five days when my wonderful boss hired him to work in the kitchen. He got strip searched every night when I took him back. Longest thirty days of my life. Biggest lesson Zachary ever learned.
I'm not saying all these parents weren't diligent, but you gotta watch for signals and know when to play that Tough Love card. And even if these parents didn't have a clue...someone did. Maybe a neighbor or a friend or another relative but surely someone knew these kids were in trouble and headed for more. That's when it's your duty to step in or at least tell someone else to. The community you grow up in is your extended family and we all need to have each others back.
I suppose this seems easy for me to say since none of my own kids (Thank God) have gone down this rocky road, but someone, anyone...who even has the tiniest inkling of maybe a possible problem should be all over it...and not stop until they are stopped.
One thing I've learned from raising kids is to never ignore but instead implore. Snoop around if you must, it's better to have your kid mad at you than to not have your kid around anymore to be mad at you.
Yes, once again I'm one of the lucky ones. Just heard today of another loss...thirty one years old.
These kids are our future and to save our future, we have to save them.
If you ever even suspect something is wrong or off with anyone or just doesn't seem right...speak up and speak loud.
I'm pretty sure it should say "you're" but you get the drift. Pissing someone off is better than having to cry at their funeral.
As ironic as it may be, Whitney put it perfectly. Just wish she'd listened to her own advice.
I've been worried about Massey suddenly being stuck here with us in Orlando. No friends, no job, going to school from Georgia online and with no way of having any social interaction or ability to make new friends.
And just like that...it happened.
My brother got her a part time job where he works, with the go ahead from his boss. She works Friday through Monday and basically works the same hours as I do... six until one AM. So she's getting out of the house, meeting people and bonus points making money.
We got lucky with next door neighbors (on one side anyway) as well. A precious young couple, both in their twenties and crazy like us...they also have three dogs.
Ziggy has a crush on their pup, Lilly. When they let Lilly out back, Ziggy can't get close enough to the fence dividing the two yards. She sticks her nose under the fence and Ziggy races to respond with his own stubby Boxer nose. Lilly got a little aggressive on her side of the fence, constantly digging to get to her boyfriend so they added lattice at the bottom of the fence, after I had added bags and bags of gravel rocks as the first deterrent.
Funniest thing ever...when they were adding the lattice work one day, I was sitting out back reading with just Ziggy in the yard. When he heard them working on the fence, went over...sniffed around, then hiked his leg and tinkled on the fence (right between two slats) at the exact spot where they were. I heard our neighbor (Ashley) say in a sweet voice, from the other side of the fence, "Well that wasn't very nice" as Ziggy peed on them from our side.
I think that's the moment I knew they were excellent neighbors.
So Massey was all pumped when she saw Ashley (our neighbor) added her as a friend on FB. I was pumped too.
My girl has a new friend in OTown!
They made a date and went to lunch together yesterday.
I got home from work tonight and was surprised to see Ashley sitting in our tiny living room chatting it up with Massey. Seems my girl made two new friends. Ashley's boyfriend had visited tonight as well while I was working.
They both share our own views on life. Labels are ridiculous. There are only two types of human beings.
You are either a good human being or a bad human being.
Case closed.
Making my night even sweeter... my son Zach (my Lost Boy) actually called from Georgia tonight for no apparent reason other than to say hello.
Moving away from my home...our home was a huge leap of faith for me. After spending over fifty six years in the Atlanta area was a huge change for me and wasn't too thrilled about it.
After seeing Massey make a good friend and my Lost Boy calling just to say hello, know everything will be okay now.
Move ahead I will. And so will my kids.
TJ's in Charlotte now, moving ahead for his own family. Massey's here with us but moving on as well. Zach's back home but moving on too.
Cotton, party of five...your table of Life awaits you.
Welcome to the party.
You have to...and must, take the good with the bad. You need to have drive, you need to have a vision and most importantly...not be frightened by the fight for your life and what that may take to make the vision happen.
I tend to think of myself as being hysterical...my family, not so much. I think a lot has to do with the fact that I've been a server for almost forty years. There's nothing more entertaining than stories about serving the public. (Talk about some excellent material to work with)
Like the time this dude slept for over an hour at one of my tables slumped over in the most uncomfortable looking position ever. Since he was from overseas, returning home and you couldn't tell what his face looked like figured it was okay to get the busser to take a pic of me behind him. Heck, he only had one beer. The thing about a lot of international travelers is they take that little pill a little too early.
I waited on a guy one time who took his little pill fifteen minutes before boarding his flight to Amsterdam. Then the flight was delayed two hours and he slept through the announcement for boarding sitting in a chair by his gate. He wandered into the restaurant and ate dinner since another flight didn't depart for twenty four hours. I told him a couple of places he could go near the airport to bid his time and after an hour or so of talking to me, he wandered back out into the terminal. The next day I was working when he came into the restaurant again. He had gotten a shave and haircut and when seated at my table again, greeted him with how nice his haircut looked. He looked at me like I was out of my mind. After talking to him for about thirty seconds, realized he didn't even remember being in the restaurant the day before.
Ya gotta love waiting on people...you meet all kinds.
One particular story that comes to mind is one I told Massey about on our last drive up to Georgia for a visit.
We were sitting at a gas station, boasting Pecan Logs on the billboard right after passing the Georgia state line when Massey asked why they called it Logs? (adding that sounded so gross)
We were sitting in line waiting for the car wash to get all the bugs off my car when I told her it was the family name and as a matter of fact, used to wait on one of them years ago. The guy was nice enough, obviously a millionaire but so cheap when it came to tipping, could pinch a penny til it screamed.
Then I just starting cracking up as I began telling her the story. I mean literally.... couldn't stop laughing while speaking, with tears rolling down my face. You know, like when you start laughing at a funeral or in a church service because of something that happens and simply can't stop.
Been there...done that.
Anyway... I kinda told the story out of order and Massey didn't quite think it was that funny.
So I retold it... in order this time.
One of the southern iconic family members used to be a landlord for a restaurant I worked for right at the beginning of my serving career. Flash forward thirty years or so and he came into another restaurant I was working for. By this time he had grown children with children of their own. It was his birthday and the entire extended family was in attendance. He started off with Hennesy and after a few, switched to wine. Around the second or third bottle I opened they (a party of ten) all ordered appetizers. Number one, it was his birthday. Number two, who am I to judge? I love a cold one more than most. So anyway, after a few toasts and another bottle of wine was opened, the birthday boy (now old man) suddenly announced "You know what? I think I'll have a slice of Key Lime pie...who else wants dessert?"
His oldest son replied "Dad, we haven't ordered dinner yet."
I had to walk away from the table before I started laughing. They did end up ordering dinner and he did once again leave a sub par tip but this story has made me laugh enough to make up for it.
Like the time I worked for a steakhouse. I was a boss of a server and salesman. They'd have a sales contest to sell a certain item and I was all over it. Not sure how many I won, but it was a bunch.
So one time, we had two new shrimp appetizers we were pushing. I was waiting on a very nice couple one night and gave my spiel about both, asking if they would like to try either. The husband said "Why don't you just surprise me."
I didn't miss a beat and quickly said "Okay sir, I'm pregnant with your baby."
I'll never forget it.
His wife was taking a sip of her drink at the time and it shot out through her nose. He agreed I had indeed surprised him. They were awesome peeps and we had a great time with our banter.
You gotta (better) know who you can joke with and who you can't. Fortunate for me, I'm a pretty good judge.
But when I'm with family...my family, it's open season.
I luckily come from a family who loves steadfast and furiously. I'm (obviously) the black sheep but for all my many faults, they love me just the same...as I do them.
When you are loved, you are secure.
Webster defines secure as "Free from danger or attack."
So I'm secure in my life. What a wonder feeling to be surrounded by the fortress of love from others.
I'm not the best person, wife or mother, sibling or even friend... but do know in my heart that if anyone needs me to do something, even without asking...will do it if I can.
As all three of my kids know, after years of helping them with school assignments they told me about at the very last minute... I can throw some sh*t together.
It's no thanks to me. I'm basically a skinny Roseanne who loves to write instead of doing stand up.
It's thanks to these two.
I still have her wedding dress, moth eaten, mildewed and torn. I simply can't get rid of it. If and when Massey gets married, hope I am able to have it recreated. What pleasure could be more fantastic than to see Massey Ann wear Ann Massey's wedding gown.
Have you ever seen a happier looking groom?
My parents were the epitome of happy marriage which allowed me to be one of the luckiest kids on the planet.
So many people aren't as lucky as me. You know, through the ten year financial debacle, one thing never changed.
My family loves me.
So I'm a crazy woman who knows I am... but enjoy being crazy.
Huge segway...
At least I'm not planning on blowing up a bomb to kill hundreds of innocent people. What are these people thinking? You know what...they aren't thinking. They are demented and so is their thinking.
It has nothing to do with religion other than giving Muslims a bad name. If you want to hate, don't pin it on a religion, pin it on people a lot crazier than me.
When it comes down to it, there are good people and bad people. It's not Muslims we should fear...it's bad people pretending to be Muslims.
Webster defines 'hate' as "To feel hostility or animosity toward."
Who are we to hate someone simply because of their religion? There are plenty of Christians or even Atheists doing exactly the same thing.
Case in point, an old white dude shot and killed five coworkers yesterday, because he was a former disgruntled employee. It was less than a mile from where we live.
Hate doesn't have a religion. It doesn't have a face or name, other than Insanity.
