This Road of Mine

I was cute.  Really. I was. I came across a picture of myself that I had not seen in years.  I looked to be about 24 then.  And I was really cute!  My skin was perfect, my hair full and curly and dark.  My body; tight, like a young woman's body is supposed to be.  I always had a bit of a challenge with my tummy (that's where the fat likes to go first and I do HATE a crunch) but overall: my body was hot! My legs have always been one of my best features.  Long and shapely like a pony's. Back then, it was nothing for my legs to take me from downtown Manhattan all the way up to Harlem.  My legs showed.  It was nothing for me to take just a couple of step classes and watch the muscles quickly start to pop.  My eyes were bright and innocent and dare I say, even hopeful?  Now, don't misunderstand, I was far, far, far from innocent in my younger days, but looking at this picture here, I see something in my eyes that looks like hope...

The day before yesterday I was in Whole Foods and happened upon a card that asked, "If you didn't know how old you were, how old would you be?" I thought about it for a couple of seconds before I told my friend that I would be 12 years old. She said that she thinks she is five. I spent that day and many days after that thinking about if 12 was really my age. Yes! I kind of remember being 12. 12 was when I started thinking. Oh gosh, it's true, I was always an analytic type. Thinking, thinking, wondering, imagining. Still, with all that thinking, life amazed me completely.  That growing, maturing thing drove me insane. Oh what will I grow to be? Will I be pretty, smart, liked, rich? I must say that at that time, I was most concerned with being pretty. Hey, I was a girl in America. At that age, I obsessed about the future size of my breast. Would they be like the girls on television or in those magazines my brothers had under their beds? Would they stay all flat ...

Unusual spelling.   Why two n's and two e's?   Why Donniee?  Are you sure it's not Dorothy?  Or Dotty?   Dolly?   I'm sure that's not the name they called you in high school.  Are you ashamed of your real name?   Who are you trying to be?  Well, I am not calling you Donniee.   It all kinda strange to me.  I was born, so I heard, Dorothena. But there's also a birth certificate with my name spelled Dorotheo.  My biological family swears its Dorothea.  I don't know guys, don't know what to make of all of this. Too bad I couldn't ask my mother, who died before I could ask her much of anything.  Like, WHAT-WAS-UP-WITH-YOU-LADY???  I wonder what she intended and what did she actually write down on some government paper or two. For my young life, I was indeed called Darlene. (Looked it up and it means darling). Well that's real deep.  And I guess I would accept it if I knew where it...

Ok, I normally don't really think of Veteran's Day.  I only know a couple veterans and the topic of what they did just doesn't come up.  It's reminding me of a realization I had this past summer that I am indeed one lucky American. Here's the link, go read it. Tell me what you think.  If you have too much to do to click on one more thing, the essay is below... http://donniee.com/Essays/luckyamerican.html I’m not that brave. Tomorrow is Memorial Day and it appears that mostly, its not even about the soldiers who have died to defend the ideals of America, but a day to eat a hotdog, (hopefully 3, with a little mustard and a little known secret I discovered, cole-slaw, right on top), wearing pretty summer clothes, and being excited that consistently warm weather is just about here.  That’s been what Memorial Day has meant to me for like, ever. But my favorite morning show, CBS’s Sunday Morning, had a segment about soldiers who have had their faces blown to smithe...

Rainy yucky day. But this coffee here, makes me realize that things are still good. So, a list. A list of things I am grateful for today, in no particular order: When McDonald's hands me a perfect cup of coffee, just how I like it Rainy days when I get to wear my cool rain boots Keeping the portable heater on all night so when I wake up, its nice and toasty My car starting in only two tries this morning A quiet office The heat on in the office already when I get there Love. Sweet, sincere love that won't go away... Friends who know me and like me and support me Laughing (it's 10:19 and I have laughed about 4 times already) Being alive again. I am always really happy when I wake up, again and again and again. Tons of folks did not. Sorry for them, happy for me, and for happy for you if you happened to wake up too.  Let's celebrate that! Possibilities. There are so many for me in my near future, it makes me giggly inside! Ok, that'll do.  Grateful for ...

First I must say that I am no saint.  I do a few awful things and one of them is that I have a secret campaign in my head to eliminate most drivers over the age 80.  I want them off the road.  I always end up behind one of them when they do those things that irritate me wayyy too much.   Like stopping completely on the main road to make a right turn.  Like making an abrupt stop when they are inches from the light that just turned yellow, causing my filled to the rim bag to topple over and spill all over the car floor then I gotta get out and gather up all of my stuff.  UGH!! However, I love old people.  For real, I do.  I love that they've lasted so long.  I wish to last that long.  I love that their heads should be full of stuff that just takes that long to know.  I love their return to innocence.  There is grand beauty in that, right?  I simply want them to find someone else to drive them around.  Someone else to ...

My 40 th Birthday moments were/are a mixed bag of feelings. I am surely thrilled to be alive still and grateful for the time spent here. These four little decades have been action-packed, to say the absolute least. I have learned so much. I have relearned even more and still, am learning over and over again that I have not learned nearly enough. Got it? But I am absolutely sure of these things: I am a light. Each and every one of us are, but it takes some of us a bit of time to really get that. I got it. I’m just a soul who’s intentions are good, (Oh Lord please don’t let  me be misunderstood) Okay, that’s a song lyric, but appropriate. I never mean harm, no matter the harmful outcomes sometimes. I know that I can sometimes be misunderstood. But stay awhile, you’ll get me. I care deeply about many many things. I want everyone to eat. I want everyone to know about self-redemption, no matter what. I want girls to love themselves on a deep perman...