Not one to pass on a challenge (with, of course, the one exception) — please see my completely selfless post below:

….

….

(crickets…)

(deafening sound of silence)

Ok, I’ll admit it…I got nothin’.

Sure, I’m not one to pass on a challenge but neither am I one to pass on the opportunity to annoy the hell outta someone who says hateful things to another person because of her OPINION.  (Hmmm, maybe Mom was right, maybe I am kind of an a-hole.)

My answer?

Yes, I was completely surprised because I expected Whitney to make it.  Maybe “expected” was a strong word.  Perhaps I just really, REALLY wanted her to.

There was a great commercial on T.V. a few years back that showed a classroom full of children during the 1980’s.  The teacher asked the children how old they would be in the Year 2000 and the kids could not even comprehend the concept enough to do the math.  So, the teacher tells them, “You will be 28!”  at which point every child in the room recoils in horror at the thought of ever being that old.  Now, if you can resist the overwhelming urge to kick the crap out of these smug little bastards, you’d see that there is no absolute age at which the “old” switch is flipped and we instinctively migrate to Florida with 3 blue-haired roommates in search of the best early bird specials and bridge games.  Old age is relative.

So absent a guideline, I am just vain enough to be shocked when anyone my age dies.  Death is for old people.  My age will always be too young to die.  Today.  Tomorrow. Twenty years from now.

So, no, I didn’t expect Whitney to die from a drug overdose at 48.  Just like I don’t expect to die from cirrhosis of the liver at 48 (y’all know I enjoy wine!) Or my friends who smoke to die from lung cancer at 48.  Or those of us who overeat to die from diabetes at 48.  Or those of us who are sedentary to die from heart disease at 48.  I don’t expect it yet these detrimental lifestyle choices are far more common than drug abuse.  I’m sure we know more people who chronically overeat than abuse drugs.

If I did lose a friend to these lifestyle choices, I would certainly hope no one would ask ”Are you surprised?” and “What did you expect?”  Because at the end of the day, I want to believe we always have time to overcome our bad choices and get better with age, not worse.  I just don’t expect these choices to kill us at 48.   When you’re young, you always feel like there’s time.  Perhaps the most dangerous lifestyle choice of all is youthfulness.

Looking back, I laughed along with the comedians who made jokes about the waif-like songbird who, in retrospect, was waging a spiritual battle against her own demons and losing.  “Crack is whack!” — it was just so funny.  The life lesson for me is that even when a cry for help rhymes, it is still a cry for help.  I’m not saying there was anything anyone could do.  Like anyone else suffering the disease of addiction, she had to choose life and health for herself.  I’m just saying that I didn’t have to sit on the sidelines and laugh.

RIP Whitney Houston.  You are finally in the arms of the One who can fill the void.

 I wanted to write about that. But once again, what came out on paper started to sound familiar. So I hit the archives and discovered that I already had in November 2009.

All Hail The King Of The Two Americas: Click Here

People, we gotta get rational about this #mediocre-presidency-that-could-be-great-if-we-could-get-both-sides-working-together-but-that-doesn’t-mean-that-it’s-anyone-else’s-fault-other-than-the-man-in-charge-and-that’s-what-he-wants-anyway-since-he’s-a-smart-and-educated-man-who-knew-this-accountability-came-with-the-position-so-he’s-not-asking-anyone-for-excuses-so-let’s-stop-shoving-him-in-the-excuse-box-because-it-diminishes-him-and-his-capabilities-in-the-eyes-of-the-public-and-I’m-not-just-saying-that-because-I’m-in-love-with-him.  Quick.  We’re out of time.

If it’s any consolation, I think it’s what Jesus would do.

Click Here:  Yo, Is This Racist?

CAUTION:  Not for the fainthearted, this muthaf#%$ has a potty mouth.

I’d love to hear your thoughts…

First, you should know that the “tuck and roll” is critically important to falling without injury and is almost impossible to pull off with skis on. When you fall while skiing, your ass is in it to win it so you might as well go as hard as you can and let the fall be what it will be. In life, I tend to hold back and err on the side of caution, hesitating with each step to make sure I don’t fall. But as my ass was skidding down that snow bank like a rock across a pond, it occurred to me that the fall was not nearly as bad as the FEAR of the fall. In fact, all that damn flailing around was a reaction to the fear, not the fall. The actual fall itself was just soft thud, a face full of snow and a muffled “Oomph!”

That’s my major point.

My minor point is that a booty, no matter how flat, fluffy or wide, is not an effective shock absorber.

Hey, I never said these challenges would be deep. Who am I? Deepak Chopra?

Next weekend’s challenge? I investigate the adage that “it takes two to tango!”

The biggest lie ever?  The other party is the problem.

Y’know, I never understood the concept of primaries.  Folks from the same party get together in a dogfight to eat each others young and compete for the party’s nomination.  But bloodied and bruised, the top dog has been reduced by his own party to the one remaining attribute that they suddenly and miraculously agree qualifies him to lead the country:  NOT being the incumbent.  I mean all his shit sucks but at least he (pointing at Romney) ain’t HIM (pointing at Obama.)  Now I’m supposed to be confident that mofo can run the country when his own boys have just turned on him like a pack of cannibalistic savages?

So no, the other party is not the problem.  Your own party is the problem.

The other party is simply here to oppose YOUR ass which is what the hell they are supposed to do.  This country first came to greatness by harnessing the power of dissension to drive out the best idea.  In other words, that other party is here to keep your ass in check so your own crazy ideas don’t run amok all willy nilly and unfettered.  So let’s, for one moment, stop worrying about them and what they’re doing.   Let’s focus on the candidates and what we personally believe about them as individuals.  What does Barack Obama look like to you if you didn’t look at him through the lens of one party or the other?  What would you think of Mitt Romney if you didn’t know he was a Republican?

I mean do you really in your heart of hearts believe that Obama is secret Muslim Black Panther Socialist?  C’MON!! That’s a lot of clubs to belong to…the membership dues alone would render it unlikely.  Doesn’t he truly just seem like an intelligent, decent man who didn’t know what he was getting into but is drinking milk and getting stronger with experience?

Are you just buying into media hype and political mudslinging or do you truly in your heart of hearts think that Mitt Romney doesn’t care about jobs?  Won’t each of his wives have to get jobs if he’s reduced to a government salary?  How could he not care?

Ok, at this point, I’ll concede that it’s hard to master an effective segue after the second shot of tequila so let’s just finish Part 3 tomorrow.

Here’s a “for instance:”

Coffee, which is vitally important to me on any given day takes on a greater significance after an evening spent enjoying the privilege of a bottomless mimosa.  The morning after one such evening, I, truly needing my fix, headed to The Coffee Bean unshowered, without addressing hair and makeup, dressed in raggedy sweats and Uggs that had truly seen many, MANY better days.  So, I’m standing in line impatiently waiting for my coffee and, from the looks of it, some spare change.

I hear the door open and someone gets in line behind me.  Then, I feel breath on my neck so I turn around to give this too-close-in-line-stander a dirty look.  Mission accomplished, I turn my cranky ass back around to wait for my coffee.  After a few minutes, I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Excuse me, is your name Kym?”

At second glance, I recognized this guy as the bartender from the Happy Hour spot near the office.

Now it never fails, whenever I go out looking like roadkill, I run into every one that I know. But this was easily the worst I have ever looked…in public…at a coffee shop…in the U.S.  (How quickly we forget Tijuana…)

“No, I’m not,” I replied, embarrassed, “but you’re not the first person to ask me that.”

His response?

“Yeah, you kinda look like her but you look better.”

WTF???  Apparently, my homeless skid row junkie look is better than my A game.

So, there are two things that I learned from this encounter:

1. Every once in a while, you come across a rare person who just prefers the truth of the matter, regardless of how ugly it is, over a dressed up lie.
2. Perhaps when I’m trying to put out what I think is my A game, I should stop grading on a curve.

To be continued…(once the shame subsides.)

Hmmmmm, I wonder why?  (Click Here)

“When did I become so uptight?” I innocently asked my bestie.

“At birth?” he instantly replied but then gave it more thought and followed with “for crying out loud, you’re a Republican!”

The truth is that I do have a lot of rules that I use to govern my behavior.  (Strangely, few rules or anything else for that matter govern what comes out of my mouth but whatevs…)   Some of these rules are based on gender (“Women shouldn’t do that!”) while others are based on age (“I’m too old for that!”)  Even more are based on self-defined standards for social acceptability that exist only in my mind.

But now that I’m 28-ish, I want to challenge some of my own thinking both on personal and political fronts.  I want to make sure my perspective is well balanced and fair.  I want to prove that the truth loses nothing to investigation.  And dammit, I wanna loosen the hell up!

So, for the next year, I will spend time each weekend doing one thing that pushes my personal boundaries.  Maybe I’ll dance on a table, maybe I’ll go out without a perfectly matched belt-bag-shoe combination.  Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll listen to a liberal talk and try not to vomit.

Who knows?  The possibilities are endless.

So…….what the hell does this have to do with you, you ask?

Clearly, you didn’t think I would embark on such a journey and not bore you to death with every single detail, did you?

Really?

REALLY??

p.s. ish=12 years (For those of you who got stuck on that 28)

I can’t think of better people to spend 2012 with than all of you.  Thanks for being a part of my journey!

Just don’t show up at my place…cuz I do have po-po on speed dial.

Happy New Year to all of you!  I pray that 2012 will bring you closer to your true purpose.  Through that journey, you will find all of the love, happiness and prosperity your heart can hold.