Thursday, December 20, 2012


Instructions for participants:

You've come so far and yet have more to go. Click on the BTP author's names to collect more riddle answers. Once you have all 11 (eleven) answers collected email Three lucky winners will be chosen at random to receive a $10 BTP gift certificate. Contest closes at 12 am 12.22.12.

 "I am just two and two
I am warm, I am cold,
I am lawful, unlawful
A duty, a fault
I am often sold dear,
Good for nothing when bought;
An extraordinary boon,
and a matter of course,
and yielding with pleasure
When taken by force.
Who am I?"
 don't forget to Visit these blogs and  collect all the clues! GOOD Luck! 

Sunday, December 2, 2012

what is the difference between humble askance and arrogant commands

Got some kinda birthday blues going on.

Don't know if that's a good title for this, officially speaking my birthday is still days away and truth be told, it has very little to do with why I am blogging.

Oh, make no mistake it plays a part, a significant part even, but its not the entirety of the issue.

Like most times when I find myself at the keyboard, staring as the words fly from my finger tips into this blog that will float seemingly with out aim through cyberspace and thus the universe, I can't sleep. And like most times when I can't sleep, its because my mind, heart and spirit are heavy with thoughts and longings and yes, even the ever so cliche-desperation.  And I wonder, if you're reading this thinking " this child ain't every truly happy, she ain't never talking about nothing but woe is Drea." And I realize too that, like most people I forget to stop here when I am happy. You'll find a few post that are nothing but "glad tidings", but not a lot.  I suppose in every post like this I do acknowledge that I stand in a firm realization that I am blessed,  favored, lucky--whatever adjective you want to tag onto it.  Even if I admit it grudgingly.

And now that I've talked in riddles, I suppose its just time to get it out. Here in my comfort zone. My little bubble of semi anonymity. My  not so secret prayer closet.  Because lets me honest, that's what I came her for. To spill my anxieties on to the page, and there by purge them from in a hopes that by turning them loose on the universe, they will be removed from me and in so grant me some moments of peace where i can some what LESS grudgingly admit to my blessings and in doing so find happiness.

Tonight I'm feeling very much like Hannah.  I know I am not crazy, I know someone is watching and wondering at my seemingly drunken ramblings and wondering " what the deuce is wrong with her".
But I promise you, I've had no wine, nor strong drink. Though I don't have the ill fortune of Hannah of having a sister wife that torments me relentlessly, I have A MULTITUDE OF of un-knowing tormentors.

If I had one wish for my birthday, it was to... *scrunches mouth to the side...yeah nope can't even bring myself to say it here either.*

What is the difference between asking and commanding?
Why does acceptance feel  like faithlessness?

Lets just say things that I've wished and longed for aren't going to happen. And as a very self aware and spiritual person I am forced to come to terms with the possibility that it may never happen. And I am forced to deal with how that effects my spirituality.  We are told to ask it so that we might receive it. To claim it that it maybe ours.  And not just to do those things but to command it of the Lord by adding IN THE NAME OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST.

I'm having some kinda issue with that. Whom am I to command such a thing of the Lord. Shouldn't I be better served by understanding that my desires are not the priority of The Lord.  I read a quote once where someone said something along the lines of "I'm always wary of those who know so well the path The Lord as designed for them because it always seems that the path is perfectly aligned with their longings and desires."  This resonated with in me.  And more and more its bounced around in my head. Really,  What if the things I am desiring are not in The Lord's Plan for me?

What if this, unfulfilled desire is exactly what I am supposed to be doing in this life. I want something , but The Lord has decided that that something is not for me. And I should come to terms with that so that I can receive whatever it is that HE has deemed is my legacy.  How do I reconcile myself to this notion? Doesn't it show some time of faithlessness in me that I would go so long "claiming" something in His name and telling other people to do the same and now I'm like "welp, He had other plans."

That's not saying I think its impossible. But maybe its just not for me.

Don't get me wrong, If I send these words out unto the universe and then my prayer is suddenly answered to the degree that I asked. I'll dance a thousand steps. I don't doubt that God moves in mysterious ways, but what if I am just misreading the cues. What if the end game isn't about me getting what I've longed for. What does that ...I wont say blind, but  almost selfish sort of faith say of me.

I feel...some kinda way.  Like maybe is should stop walking around laying my hands on things and sayin " in the name of Jesus, Its already done."  I don't know that. That my command is all powerful, because I said "In the name of THE Father."

But what I DO know is that The Father has blessed me. Many Many times over. And I am thankful for those blessings. I never want Him to look down and find me ungrateful. My mouth not set to praise Him. I guess I just want to come to that place where I can truly say "I accept all things as they are, for The Father has deemed it so. It is not the path of my desire but the path of my destiny. And if I come to it, It is because The Father brought me there."

I guess I am trying to learn to be thankful even when my desires aren't met. Not just ... I sorta feel like I've been conditioned to be humble so I'll get something.  OK, Life isn't going the way I want it, let me show The Lord how patient I am and how humble and thankful I am and then He'll go 'head and give me what I want."  And I wonder if I am the only person who has caught themselves living this way.  I don't think I am, I am just probably the only ding dong silly enough to admit it to the world.

 I've been selfish in my selflessness. Whether I was aware of it or not. I honestly have been.
And I don't know, that as a person.. as Christian we all aren't that way. Not just because we want to get into heaven. I mean really, who wants to sit in purgatory and then roast in hell?  I promise you none of my imaginary audience raised there hands. In fact my minds image of me just sat on her hands after crossing herself and falling on an altar.  No one, at least no one I KNOW wants to end up chillin' with The Old Son for eternity.  No matter how sexy fine he might appear. I am not trying to trip the light fantastic with the ding dong that KNOWINGLY looked on God's face and said " who gone check me, boo".
So I try to live right-ish.  I'm a little cocky with it too. "I've been saved, my parents sowed that seed a long time ago. I just gotta stay mostly right. And claim what I want In The Name".

Now, I don't have issues with most of that-- we are sinners. Its what we do. God knew/knows that.  He told us so.  Its that claiming stuff,  that I am finding myself having issue with.  Shouldn't I just accept that what is for me God will provide. And what is not He will remove?
 Does that make me unfaithful? Does that mean I've lost my mustard seed?

I don't know , Dear Reader.

But I do know this--I truly desire certain things in my life. I've often claimed them In the name of Jesus. My new lesson, the thing I am working on to wait on The Lord.  To understand that things don't happen just because I snapped my finger and said "open sesame".  Things don't move on Drea Time. The move on the Lord's Time ... and I am learning to Claim things thusly--  "if it be THY WILL, LORD, Please grant me favor." Because truly, demanding/commanding The Lord and expecting a response hasn't been settling right with my spirit.  I'm learning to understand the difference IN ASKING for something ( with the expectation that the answer can either be yes or no) and claiming/demanding something (with out having the understanding that I am not in control.)

But this leads me back to my original problem.  I want, with a desperation I almost can't explain.  I long for something almost as much as I long to be close to My GOD. And sometimes that wanting, that longing has been stronger than my understanding. Stronger than...than I can even explain. And I don't just want, I want with conditions. I wanted like this, and it has to be this shape and size and before this time ... I WANT.  Dare I say I COVET. I feel sorrow when I see others with it, I feel jealousy and self pity.. and then I beat myself up for having those feelings.

Its a constant battle. Its turmoil. As sure as I am sitting here right now telling myself , "Drea, you can accept what ever The Lord gives you.", I promise, before this post is circulating around the web I'll also be thinking about how nice it would be to have it. How I've always wanted it. And why every body around me is getting it but I'm not.

So there it is.. the trouble that has me up late. My heart is torn. My mind not at peace. Because I know I might never come to the moment of completely being OKAY with not getting what I want.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Doubtful, Thankful, Faithful.

Doubt is a tricky thing. It can manifest itself in our lives in a myriad of ways.  Unsure thought, hesitant actions, strained communications, insecurity, depression, anxiety.

It is the mother and child of all these things together. It can be born from any one of those feelings and it can spur random tangents into those areas. It causes them to mix in our stomach and churn the acids there like a raging sea... a monster that claws its way from the bit of your stomach and shoots flames from your throat, breaths despair into every aspect of your life.

Some times the doubt is inherited. Its not a lack of belief in yourself, but a strange gift foisted onto your shoulders by others. Sometimes its their doubt in themselves but projected on to you. Not truly your cross to carry but you shoulder it unconsciously. Sometimes its a burden by proxy,no one really asked you to carry it, but your around it and its yours. You  don't really want to hoist it up and drag it around, but you've picked up along the way and can't remember where you found it and because you've totted it all this way you feel obligated to keep giving it a ride until you find a way to prop it up in the middle of some lost and found closet. You don't really want to let the person who it belongs to struggle under the weight of it, and you surely don't want to dump it  or shake it loose so that it lands in the middle of the highway like a piece of ill secured furniture on moving day. It will cause an emotional pile up for everyone else... so you drag it a lil' farther up the road looking for a safe place to pull on to the shoulder and dump it like an unwanted puppy after Christmas. Praying that maybe it finds a way to that farm house were those nice people will surely welcome it and help it work itself out, but if not prayeful it will survive on its own in the open fields of milo and hay and not run into the middle of the highway and get hit.

Thanks are just as sticky as doubts... sometimes thankful isn't really THANKFUL...its more like grudged acceptance.  We all have those moment where we are forced to acknowledge that our lot in life isn't as bad as someone else's. But can we be honest... don't we all have those moments were frankly that's not our concern. OK, ok, sure we could be the one legged veteran who is on the street panhandling for crusts of bread. But be often do we see those people and sneer, "freeloaders" " tax evaders"  "if i just gave up and was like the I could probably make a mint." "I read an article about panhandlers that grossed 6 figures standing on corners looking like bums."  and "damn good scam if you ask me".

I mean really WHEN are we TRULY thankful for all that we have... all that has been given to us in abundance. WHO among us is THANKFUL FOR THE STORM when its raining and not just when it has passed and the sun is shinning on us.  THANKFUL isn't always THANKFUL... some times its a desperate plea for a reprieve  "Please, SIR, may I have another."
Thankful, isn't always a joyous celebration, but a solemn acceptance. Its sportsmanship when you've come in second instead of first. You really want the blue ribbon, but you dutifully tip your chin after having ducked your head to steady your trembling lip and smile brightly at for the crowd when in side your heart is still racing and your soul quivers in uneasy defeat. You tell yourself it wasn't LAST place, but you hear the taunts resound , "yeah, but it ain't first either". Stuck in the middle. Thankfully ungratefully. Begrudgingly satisfied, unhappily content.

Faithful isn't always faithful.  Some times faithful is just resigned.
Its not the stead fast HOPE in a better tomorrow.  But the realization that the present goes on unerringly with out end. There isn't always that refreshing fortification in bright new days. Just the understanding that tomorrow is already today and today is already yesterday.  It is now as it always  was, as it always will be.

doubtful, thankful and faithful.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Thoughts on A Grey Day

I'm settled on the couch with my laptop, both dogs, a 24oz coffee, a pillow and a blanket. I can hear the wind-chimes tinkling in the tree outside my front door. I've turned the window units off for the first time since we moved into this little house and its quiet. Country silence, no voices, no cars just the wind the electric hum of the ceiling fans and my fingers tapping against the keys.  The day is blustery, cold and grey. You wouldn't believe that only a couple of days ago the temperature was in the triple digits.  If I weren't sick I'd get up and dress for a tail gate.. A pair of well worn but fitted jeans and a t-shirt, the cable knit sweater from that guy I dated once and decided I like his sweater better than I actually liked him  and my favorite boots. Well, probably my favorite trainers because the boots I'd have pulled on were lost/stolen on a trip to San Antonio almost a decade ago.

I'm soaking in all the well wishes from friends and family. Their positive energy and cautious baby fever makes me smile. LOL I think a few people are actually ready to go "surprise adopt" a baby for me.  I love that they are invested in our happiness emotionally. A sense of community and well being spreads through me.   My mind tells me this is not yet our time, but I can't help but be swept up in their hope. Even CWB left a lingering hand on my tummy before he kissed my head on his way out the door to work. "Be nice to mommy today, she doesn't feel good." he spoke ostensibly to the dogs, but the warmth of his hand told me exactly where his true thoughts lie.

I've talked to my little sister, her antics make me smile even though she called in a moment that I was choking back tears. The way she hops around with so much energy both rejuvenates and drains me. I wonder if that's what my older sisters saw in me. Boundless energy, hope, possibilities, mischief, excitement, love. I wonder if I've lost that or if it just packed away on this rainy, grey day.

Don't get me wrong. I love rainy, grey days. I often think I should have been born in London rather than Lubbock. The cool misty wind suites me more than the blistering heat and dust. An Island in the sea rather than a desert or painted sand. Oh, I love Texas, but I can't wait to leave. Ready to test that theory about absence and fondness.  To see if I can hold all the beauty in my mind and relay it some stranger with enough conviction to make them wan to trek back the thousand miles to see for themselves.

I should be tweeting something.. but hey...I've done that all week when I only really need to do it three days. I can afford a day off.   I should be writing something, besides this blog.  And maybe I will later.  I should be trying to eat something other than Saltines or Ritz. Drink something other than flat sprite and coffee. Do something other than scroll through Netflix, Amazon and Facebook.

 I really should address the issue of a person who has infiltrated my sanctuary and harmed one of my precious minions  devotees followers worshipers friends.  Yeah, friends is the word I am looking for. I have been formulating in my mind the way to call this person on to the carpet.  Should I be all Goddess on high appearing to a trembling mortal, Executive power player calling an employee in for a quarterly NEGATIVE review, angry big sister protecting the shy bashful sweet heart-ed sibling.  Should I humiliate and shame her as I am want to do. No, I'll wait. The silence, in light of the egregiousness,  will take care of all that I wish for me. I don't want to appear weak. Any leader will tell you "the appearance of weakness is weakness itself".  But I am sending a total message that " Here in this realm, we are so strong, your pithy little antics, while they register in the field of our attention, mean naught but the mild sting of a mosquito on the skin of an elephant"  or as my grandmother would say "one monkey don't stop no show".

I wonder how many people are going to email me and ask me if that ^^^^^ is actually about them. There are a couple fringe floater that it could apply to lmao.

I should call someone, but the thought of a human voice actually grates on my nerves like a Styrofoam cooler against a tailgate. Not that I don't want to hear from folks-- I just don't want to "hear" from folks. And the act of speaking makes my throat prickle like fire.  I'm annoyed at the imagined conversations. The feigning of appreciative tact that I just don't have the energy to contrive. "Yes, actually, I am aware that I am sick more than any other person you know. Yes, I should have a doctor check me out, your absolutely correct. The team of personnel I've been seeing since birth is obviously incompetent and your laymen's diagnosis is absolutely exactly what I suffer from. No, I had no idea you'd had the exact same ailments but different and were cured with milk of magnesia and cow chip tea. Oh yes, I hear they are making a Drea sized bubble this year. I am on the waiting list for one for of those."   * I actually made myself smile with that, I'd laugh if it didn't hurt.  I should be and actually am really grateful for all those conversations. But really people, sometimes a chic is just sick. Say feel better and move on lol.*

No, no.. today I am gonna blog randomly.  Sleep and enjoy the sweet earth scented air. Today I am going to be sick, play hooky ( sorta)  and not worry about what I SHOULD be doing.   Probably gonna dry heave some more. Yeah, dry heaving is defo on the schedule *wish I could get rid of that particular event , but the other option is eating enough to actually PUKE and that is so not on*.
Gonna email a couple of people. And hope they don't take that as a "call me right now".
And then I'll read back over this blog obsessively to see if my words came out the way I wanted them to.
Not that I'll ever correct them if they didn't.
And I'll think that I shouldn't wait so long between blogs.
And that I really have a lot of thoughts for it being a grey, thoughtless kind of day.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Missing those who've gone on

some times you just miss those people who are gone from you. Maybe they've left this world, transcended this life...or maybe they've just moved...down the block and around the corner across the sea.

Somedays I think of just one person... somedays i miss them all... today is kind of a "missing you all kinda day"

"sometimes i still look for you in crowds....hear you voice over the party din... smell that scent you wore on the wind...sometimes your still here and I have nothing...nothing to fear...I hold my breath and close my eyes praying to make this time last...fighting against reality... grasping at the wispy, smokey dream... I miss you my friend...and if there be a heaven, i pray to get there, if only to be with you again.  "  from MISSING YOU in the journals of ADCB copyright 2012

Saturday, June 23, 2012


first the mood music...CLICK HERE  NOW READ!!!!

Leighna sighed as leaned her head against the seat of the car and watched traffic pass outside the passenger window. It had been a long day and she Just spent last hour sitting outside one of the trendiest bars in Summerlin.  Honestly, she’d have felt better if she’d been sitting outside one of the busy clubs on the famed Vegas strip or in some seedy hotel. 
The business men and their pta wives staggered clumsily through the parking lot, stumbling and tumbling over each other as if they’d just been on a reality tv shoot. Single men past their glory days tried to catch her attention by sucking in their guts or tooting the horns of their eco friendly priuses and electric hybrids.
Finally, the neon lights flickered and went out. The sign that read Malibu’s no longer casting its harsh lights and bright colors across the hood of the car. The bars owner paused at the front door to speak to the bartendars and crew. Making sure they each had rides home and didn’t stay to long with the closing, he flicked a spent Camel from his lips and flung a leather jacket over his shoulder. His loose stride  did nothing to deny the weariness in his shoulders.  She felt bad for him, it had obviously been a rough night.
So she sat quietly as they drove. His big  hand resting on her knee, cool from the blast of the cars a/c, as if drawing some kind of inner peace just from her presence. They made there way through the palm lined surburban streets before pulling over.
“Honey we don’t have to hang out with you sister tonight…” she started to turn and replace the little bottle of hand lotion she’d been working into her skin.  The light scent of night jasmine mingling with the smell of leather and him.

Leighna caught the  troubled nervousness rolling off him in waves. ‘Mal, did you hear me we don’t..” the words stop in her throat as he turned and put both hands on the wheel, his jaw tensed and adam's apple bobbing. In all the years they’d been to gether Malibu Jones had never lost his cool. Not even when he’d sauntered up to here, knowing he was younger than she was, and declared he was the man she should be dating.
“You know Leighna… its like .. and then… me and you and we..”
Leighna couldn’t make out anything in the frustrating jumble. Scared she placed her hand on his jaw and watched as he squeezed both hands on the wheel and his eyes tightly before nuzzling her palm.
Suddenly he grabbed her hand and kissed it… then reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box that he promptly fumbled and dropped in her lap…
“Marry me dammit”.
With trembling hands she opened the box…. The single diamond caught the light from the dash controls and winked at her.


MALIBU AND LEIGHNA AREN’T REAL But bits and pieces of this story are….


Thursday, June 21, 2012


Remember a few months back I told you all that my characters sometimes sneak up on me and lay some serious drama down the go away?  One such encounter resulted in the unedited posting called girlfriends... (find it here GIRLFRIENDS)

well this morning around three a.m. I got a disturbing phone call and email and I guess I decided to channel whatever character that was hovering around in the original Girlfriends...
up until just a few moments ago this was my status... I've decided its worthy of  hanging out with the rest of the stuff I am planning for the girlfriends saga...


Since you admitted as much in the email you circulated to all our "friends" I know you see this and you know I am talking directly to you. I guess you get to win by calling me a bad friend, when in actuality you're the one who hid away. I didn't judge your actions in fact if you'll think hard enough I was probably the only person who told you to your face that you had the right to make a decision. However what you don't get the right to do is blame me or anyone else for how it played out. You made your bed, you can lie in it (Damn always wanted to get to say that ha ha). I don't hate you...facts of being until your little rant was brought to my attention I hadn't even truly thought about you. I try not to make people a priority in my life when I am only and option in theirs. The last words I spoke to you were " I love you, and I want you to do whats right and whats best for yourself, that doesn't mean you have to bring anyone down. Own up to your mistakes and go forward and when you're ready or need a friend I'll be here." I've always been here, it you who turned away. You who blamed every body for how you decided to handle this. DId you honestly think, knowing me all these years, I'd side with bullshit and drama over the truth. Facts of matter being if you'd stopped hiding in the shit you created long enough you'd know that I've only encouraged everyone to leave you be and let you live your life. I wont lie on you and I wont lie for you. I've kept your confidence through it all. Even when asked to my face I've only said "thats her story to tell". And Even now I wont tell, but I tell you what else I wont do, I wont sit quietly and let you drag my name through the mud. I am only gonna tell you this once little girl, Keep rubbing my lamp and I'm gonna answer your every wish. You think life sucks right now? You don't know hard times yet darlin'. It won't be a rock in Texas you can hide under. And as for not knowing were to find me: baby look over you shoulder because the more you run my name past your lips, the closer I get. PS... you should make sure you don't hit reply all and that you delete your previous attachments when you're sending out scathing little emails full of lies and vitriol. I was one of thirty five people who got to see the picture of you smoke a "pipe" that doesn't belong to your husband. Wonder how you going to explain that one? And based on the phone cal I just got, you've got exactly 7 hours to come up with a good lie. LOVE YOU GIRLFRIEND SMOOCHES!!

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Fantasy and adventure

though i rarely read historical/ or regencies, i have a serious fond place in my heart for them. When i was little and the only way to keep my mouth shut was to give me a book, my mom began to just hand me hers and thank the heaven's for the silence that over took what ever room i was in.  I used to long to go back in time and be a character in a book. I wouldn't fall for the hero's romantic chakras though, i'd be smart with my knowledge of the future and besides all the girls were too young to be getting wooed anyway.. I wanted to go back and take over some shit and run thangs.... Well, the grown up me doesn't read that genre to often, growing up and learning took away the fantasy of it, butl when i do read them I like them to be good ... as a favor to me i want y'all to go out and get this it then email this chic and let her KNOW how awesome she effin is... OMG sooo great.J M Powers Author make sure you pass the word around to all you friends who read them .... ITS EPIC  clici on the picture to buy

While on a journey to collect his betrothed, Galeron comes upon a young maiden in the forest. She has no memory of who she is or why she's there. The gash on her cheek says she's suffered terrible abuse. He's instantly smitten and dubs her Ruby of the Forest. However, names do not matter as they discover magical passion beneath the forest canopy.  

Ruby accepts his offer of a safe journey to his home, all the while wishing he could offer what she wants most--his heart. At Ramstone, Galeron and Ruby's passions grow day by day. Tidbits of her memory return a little at a time, and she realizes her life intersects with his--and not in a good way.  

Will Ruby discover her past? Or will her past discover her when she least expects it?

Her profile was beautiful. The lock of hair peeking from her hood seemed to beckon his touch. Her nose, sprinkled with faint freckles, turned up a bit at the end. He wished to kiss it. 

“What was your destination? Most importantly, did anyone in your dream call out? A name mayhap? Furthermore, why would—” 

She jumped up and raised her hand. “Wait! ’Tis quite a flurry of questions.”
He sat up. “Then answer one at a time.” 

“Are all knights as daft as you?” She grinned. “Which of the countless queries shall I respond to first?” She tapped her finger on her bottom lip. 

He’d nibbled that lip. Kissed that fingertip. He didn’t hear her words at first. Finally he tuned in to hear, “…thrown from a horse, and most disturbing, I believe someone wishes me dead. I have nay other answers. Even those are not clear.” 

“I should keep my questions to myself.” And his unpure thoughts. 
“Actually, your questions are the same ones I now ask myself.” She motioned the length of her body. “As well as to why I am wearing this garb.” She laughed. 

He felt her laughter within him—and how badly he would miss it when they parted company. “’Twould be fitting for you to possess a name as well.” He ran a finger through the strand of hair that had been torturing him. It was as soft as he imagined. Then, he untwisted the cord beneath her chin. 

Her breathing quickened as he removed the hood, but he could not stop. Transfixed, he watched the long, auburn locks spill from her hood and onto her shoulders. 

He released a breath. “I shall dub you...Ruby.” Her jade eyes flickered with yellow specks in the sunlight. “Ruby of the Forest.” Galeron widened the mere shadow of space between them. The single step back seemed a chasm of eternity. “Ah, those red tresses are a jewel in themselves.” 

“You are insufferable.” Clicking her tongue, she smiled and headed for his stallion. “Such a fool.” 

He laughed. A fool for her, mayhap. 

“Why did you leave?”
“The same reason I am asking you to do the same.” She pricked her finger on a dead stem and placed it in her mouth. 

“I am not fond of riddles. Why did you leave Ramstone?”
“To remain…” She swung around. “Far from you.”
He closed the distance between them. Standing a breath away, she looked into his eyes. “I do not need you or anyone else to think for me. Fight your own battles, and leave me to mine.” 

Galeron took Ruby by the arms. “Fair one, it takes all I have not to shake you. Bring the boy and his family along if you must, but return to Ramstone!” 

Ruby shrugged from his grasp and shoved him. She was shouting now. “I am not one of your duties anymore. You are free of me. You have your betrothed and I belong to another.” 

“I am not so easily convinced. I know there is naught between you and Palmer.” 
“Not him, but someone. What other reason would I feel I have a child of my own? I must belong to another.” 

He strode to her, pulling her into his arms. “If you have a child, we shall find the young one. As far as belonging to another, he is less than a man. If you were missing, I would not rest until I found you.” 

Ruby clenched her jaw. “You say this as you set out to find your betrothed?” She leaned back as his gruff whisper brushed her cheek. 

“If I have to carry you over my shoulder to do so, I shall bring you back to Ramstone.” 

Ruby slapped him on the cheek. His head turned with the force of her blow. For a moment they faced each other, their breaths intermingling while they stared each other down. 

She blew at the wayward lock falling in her eyes and jerked her head to the side when he reached to push it from her face. “I am not free and neither are you.” She shuddered when he cradled her chin in his hand and placed the tendril behind her ear. Her eyes met his when he wiped the tears on her cheek. “Damn you. You are about to be wed. I refuse to be your wench.” 

“I would never ask you to be my wench. I simply wish to assure your safety while I am gone. However, I find...” He brushed his lips against hers. “I have missed you, Ruby.” 

The torture of doubt ripped at her. Anger collided with warmth, sinful cravings with confusion and she spent all of her emotions on him. 

The stubble of his beard scraped her chin. She grabbed his neck as he kissed her and hoisted herself, wrapping her legs around his waist. Galeron’s moan twisted around her heart while their tongues intertwined in a frantic dance. His broad hands roamed down her back and cradled her bottom. She pressed against him and reached into his tunic, feeling the warmth of his body. His chest rose and fell beneath her fingertips while she reeled in the darkness he brightened. She cried out at the sensation of his lips following the low neckline of her bodice. She felt him tremble when she pressed hard against him. 

“Woman, refrain from doing that.”
“This?” She grinned and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist.
“You know not what you do, milady.” He slowly lowered her feet to the ground. Stilted breath flowed from his lips while he kissed her temple. “God in heaven,” he whispered. “I did not intend to…” 

“Neither did I. Shhh.” Ruby closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat pounding as hard as her own. Let this be. Allow the haunting reminders of her past to release its grasp. Would fate deem she belonged to another? Ruby wanted to believe fate would be kind for once. 

Her eyes flew open at the nearby gasp and she shoved out of Galeron’s embrace.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012


Ok, you guys know how much I LOVE telling stories, especially when they are based on real life.
And you know I LOVE knowing something Y’all don’t know and then getting to tell you.
And you also know how much I LOVE making HUGE, DRAMATIC  ANNOUNCEMENTS…I’d be the perfect wedding toast writer…don’t steal that idea I am already putting it in a book….anyway sit back…I got something to tell you.  Don’t for get to read slowly and click the link so you can hear the music too.

Are you playing the music…good now do the dreamy wavy thing from the old sitcoms and picture this.

Nicole stood at the bank of window in the old mid century ranch style house.  The sky was exceptionally bright tonight. Stars twinkled and danced and the leaves of the old sycamore tree sang along with the breeze.
Rose Royce drifted from the PA system a soft dreamy song ironically about wishing on stars and true love. 
Nicole sighed deeply; she couldn’t believe Michael had talked her into coming to his parents house, a house she’d practically grown up in and packing all the rest of their knick-knacks. Looking around the loft a sense of sadness washed over her. Michael’s parents moving was actually more heartbreaking than when her own parents had decided to sell her childhood home and migrate to the warmer climate of the Florida keys.
Turning she made her way down the stairs and nearly tripped and broke her neck.  Actually she didn’t fall all the way down, she just missed that one step that caused her to grasp for air, call on the lord and watch her Thirty three years flash before her eyes.
She only righted herself and calmed down when the deep rumble of laughter caught her ears. Shooting a startled glance over the empty space below she caught Michael as he was bent at the waist grasping for air, pointing and laughing his ass off at her.
“You’re about to see my foot, up your ass.”
“Whatever, come over here mom left some stuff she wanted you to have.”
Nicole made her way to were Michael had created a make shift table out of boxes, There lined in a row were three small velvet boxes.
Pulling her into his embrace Michael settled Nicole and himself on the floor her back to his chest, their legs tangled.
“Why would your mom leave me jewelry,” Nicole whispered, “wouldn’t she want your sisters to have it”
“Actually,” Michael said, drawing one long leg in so that it was across her lap preventing her from moving, I picked out this stuff a while ago and have been waiting to give it to you.
He leaned forward and grabbed the first box and revealed tiny platinum earrings in the shape of x’s, slowly he helped her to put them on.. “so you’ll always have my kisses in your ear” he whispered…
Nicole didn’t say anything but her body trembled. The second box was opened and the sparkle of a platinum chain caught her eye two  circles linked in infinity hugging a huge pink heart shaped diamond  were gently draped around her neck and clasped together… “so that you will always know we will always be together…in your heart and in mine…”
Nicole couldn’t help it, the tears began to spill over and she couldn’t slow her heart beat
Michael opened the final box and placed the huge platinum solitaire on her finger…”so that you know that no matter how far you run, I will always be here.”
“I sorta thought you were supposed to ask a woman to marry you”
“I am not asking any woman anything…I am telling my wife, we are getting married”
“And if I run?”
“If you try to run I swear I’ll spank you in front of God and everybody”
“Yeah, it’s bad enough you tricked us into walking in on mom and dad that one time”
Nicole almost broke Michael’s nose as the voice of her twin baby sisters rang out in unison, the lights came on and family and friends poured into the living room with smiles and tears on their faces…

“I can’t believe you planned this” Nicole whispered as she and Michael stood in the back yard. They’d been hugged and congratulated to death until finally her sisters had helped them sneak out for a moment alone. She watched the moonlight twinkle in his eyes…and was moved to tears as he dropped down to one knee.
“When we were little you used to sneak over here and lay in the grass with me…when I asked you what you were wishing for you’d always say true love.  Well, here I am… your wish come true.”
At that moment a shooting star raced across the sky and Nicole knew this was it…there was no need to wish for anything else..
Ok so how was that…
Oh you’re waiting for the announcement still…
Nevea got married!!! Nate didn’t give her a choice…he showered her with jewels and made all her dreams come true!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

rambling at 3 in the morning

I been just kicking around lately.  Feeling some things, not feeling some things.  Taking things too much to heart and ignoring others. Meh. C'est le vie? Oui?

Of course it is. Life ebbs and flows.  Pulled by the moon just like the tides. The key is learning to adjust your sails. Opening them and catching that wind that drives you on, closing them and just floating on the waives. Battening down the hatches and riding out the storms.

So I was thinking to myself all day, "Drea, what's really going on?  Are you ok? Are you really gonna be this bohemian? B/C really  Birkenstocks and cracked heels isn't cute.  Might as well just have on crocs and no socks or odor eaters".  I need beauty day. I feel like dressing up and prancing around, if for no other reason than I've literal lived in my pajamas for the better part of the last few months. And now I need new pajamas.

And that shook me a bit. Caused me to look around, clean my glasses and look around again.

Shits not so bad.  I mean granted its not the BEST, but its not so bad. Lord knows, it could be worse. And honestly  some stuff I just don't give a damn about. Lots of people out there insinuating that something about me has something to do with them. Some of them are correct, but most of them are so flippin' far off bass.  There are a few, precious few, that have contributed to my current state of hermit-dom and introspection. Some of them because they gave me good advice, challenged me to look within myself and find that spark, that thing that just BREATHS life into me.  Some of them just because I just can't fkn be bothered anymore.  Dude, screw you and your issues.  

So its 3:30 a.m. now and I've got a bit of a headache due to the constant chatter of the voices...and probably the over load of instant coffee and chocolate cake.  I am thinking my fro is not so fro-tastic right now and a long hot bubble bath would be AH MAIZ  EN!

And despite the wicked email from someone I rather liken to and in-grown infested hair on crinkle of a trolls ass...I'm ok.  I suddenly don't care if I am accepted or not.  Don't care if some one appreciates me or not. My only concern is the fact that I think I need to do laundry cuz I might be down to the boxer briefs I bought for the Hubs but confiscated for myself when he said he didn't like them ( dude, they are magic under maxi dresses).

Oh and Titan, yeah he is concerning me. He has gas. Again.  Its not good. NOT. GOOD.


Its all good.

Stinky, but good.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mother's Day

I want to start out by saying Happy Mother's Day   to all the moms and mr moms out there( both here and here in spirit). And to the Aunties and Sisters that fill that role often as well.   I could go on and on naming a million "mommies" but today I  just wanna shout out a few.

To my own mom, Urail Compton-Mackey ( Yeah lady, blew your picture up to if only I could've found that one with the brick red afro and us in matching red peep with dusty crusty knobby knees and lopsided pig tails in a yellow romper and you in jeans a tee shirt and the worlds biggest aviator sunglasses...wheeeeeeewwwwwww the 80's  were GREAT)  I love you Mom.

And omg my baby mammas( what I told y'all I am poly amorous!!!! I got two baby mamma's and you ain't never seen neither on maury...they know I am dat baby's auntie) 

TO  Laura and Jennifer  aka Smurf and Peewee

And yes I used these pictures on purpose, because I want you to know you all three are beautiful here.
You are even more beautiful at three a.m. when you've got puke in you're hair, shit on your hands and a baby on your hip, but i want you to know, that even when your hair is all wonky and your upset...I see you like this.   I see three strong, amazing , crazy ass nut cakes that some how keep getting day passes from what ever holding facility I try to get you locked up in. I see my best friends. And I can't wait to have our next "moments" together.

To Jamin.  You my friend are one HANDSOME MR MOM!!!  
I love you for your courage and your faith and your friendship.
Your compassion and your sense of humor. I know you worried about it and let me tell you.. you're doing a fabulous job!

To my little cousins M'Leesa and Samantha!!! You're all grown up now ladies...don't forget all the tricks big cousin taught you, cuz they are about to come back at you!!!
Grid yourselves ladies...THIS IS WAR...LOL

And holy poop all my friends on fb who are new moms and second or third time moms just in time for mother's day.

AND Just as importantly...To my friends who haven't gotten there yet.  The Journey in TTC is a long and winding road.  Like many of you I woke up and rolled my eyes this morning. Another mother's day has come and will soon be gone and yet my arms are empty.

For some reason this year it just hit me harder.  Maybe because this time I am still on the coat tails of a m/c and the heart ache is a little fresher.  But those of you with angles in heaven and rainbows yet to come, 
today is your day as well.  You are often in that auntie/sister/friend category and  while I know that is no comparison to the longing in your hearts, I also want you to remember that your "mothering"  doesn't go unnoticed by those who receive it.  When they think of you, their hearts warm and smiles come to their faces.  You are a precious commodity to them.
And you are special to me as well.  

I wish you all luck and sticky baby dust. And I am sending you all my thoughts, hopes and prayers.

As my friend LaTrice Glenn did for me this morning... HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO YOU LADIES ( even if it is in advance)

And Thank you LaTrice, for remembering me today. Your text was exactly what I needed to remind me to get out of bed and celebrate today. If not for myself, for all the amazing mommies around me.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Things My Mom Didn't Teach Me

When you're a tomboy, and the daughter of a tomboy, there are some inherently female things that just don't come natural to you.
Some things you sorta have to stumble into. Things that other girls learn from exposure or practice with their mother's, aunts, sisters and cousins.
During this time in my life, when my husband and I are actively TTC, and the world around me is insisting that our children will be curly headed, hell on wheels, precocious, trouble making little tomboys, I am struck by the things that I can teach them about being a girl. And the things I can not.
For instance, the love of all things pink. Yeah, thats not gonna happen. My mother and all those involved with raising me will tell you that I have avoided the color pink like a vampire runs from sunshine, wooden stakes and garlic.  I don't really like pastels in general, but pink, in any shade from bright fuchsia to powder puff pale makes me nauseated.  I like camo greens, bright blue, oranges (as long as they don't get pinkish) silver, black and green and I have a love for purple that can only be rivaled by Von Glorious and Prince (you'd be wise to ignore the fact that my finger nails are currently and eye popping shade of bubblegum called Boom Boom). My mom didn't teach me to do my nails, in fact I avoided nail polish like the plague until I was 18 (it happens when you get purple glitter nail polish IN YOUR EYE at age 5...never mind that we were driving in the car and i was trying to see all the sparklies in the bottle)

My mother didn't teach me squat about curling my hair and applying nail polish and make up. For the longest time I wasn't interested. The only thing she did in the bathroom that was fun to me was her nightly Noxzema mask...and that's because i thought she was putting on her monster face to chase me with.  That Noxzema got my ass beat when my grandmother discovered what was bleaching my skin. OH and one time I watched my mother arching her eye brows with a razor blade. I wont tell you what happened because I still believe the large water bug attacked me, (thats my story and i am sticking to it), but i will say it involved missing bangs and elmers school glue.

I learned all I know about make up from my daddy ( WFM), I hit a point where  I didn't want to be the weird little girl in school, so I would secretly slip those little make up  kits in the cart under my hot wheels and model cars.  And on saturday mornings after we'd built my latest model, my dad would patiently sit, with a giant bottle of acetone, a bottle of baby oil and huge bag of cotton balls and watch tv while I piled all my mom's sponge hair rollers onto his head and then painted his face and most of his fingers and toes. I gave up after about a month, I am sure my dad is glad. And though, he didn't speak to me for a month after I cut all my hair off,  it was that or continue paying someone else to do my hair in the mornings before school. ( mom's shift started before we had to be up).

My mom didn't teach me about boys, the one time i had a crush and was brave enough to tell her she said it was just puppy love and I'd get over it.  Then she came back to the room to advice me "it wouldn't be smart to say anything about this boy to your dad or uncle's. Let's just keep this between ma and you." I was 14 when I figured out that the rapidly growing arsenal in our house was to prevent "boys", from acting on the the realization that I was no longer the dusty lil tomboy, that lived on the farm down from them.

My mom did teach me to walk in high heels.  That she started showing me from a very early age...i abandoned it from about 12 until 16 at which point she had to re teach me...much to my dad's dismay, but apparently the enjoyment of the male population in general.

My mom didn't teach me to drive a car...neither did my dad...I'd been driving since the age of five, but was forced to quit when we moved into town. At age 15 when everyone was learning my mom was pulling her hair out trying to teach me. Turns out the problem was that i couldn't drive and automatic.  I could clutch and shift better than most nascar drivers. But knowing what to do with my left foot  and both hands on the wheel was just too confusing to me.

My mom didn't teach me about being a little girl... my mom taught me how to be a woman.
She taught me how to be strong in the face of adversity, she taught me how to work and take care of others, she taught me how to hide my tears and how to throw a killer left hook. She taught me that my high heels were not just high fashion, but self defense mechanisms. You know just about the only thing girlly mom did was crochet, and after fifteen minutes and seven tangled balls of yarn, my mom taught me that its ok to not know how to do something girlly like knitting or crocheting. I also learned how to dodge fast pitch potatoes ( don't ask, lets just say i  know know that those softball/baseball trophies, belonged to my mother NOT my uncles).

So I wonder, what things I will and will not be able to teach a little girl. Will I be able to relate if she wants ballerina shoes instead of a football helmet? Will i understand her obsession with baby dolls instead of marbles and army men? Will she be ok in ratty tshirts and tattered jeans as opposed to frilly dresses and snowflake tights( holy crap i just swooned thinking about those itchy ass tights)?

Its over whelming to worry about the things I can't teach her, because my mom never taught me.  But I do know I can teach her all the things I did learn from my mom. How to read and get lost in the fantasy of a good book. How to cut down the time on a complicated recipe so you don't miss a minute of your favorite show. How to hold the ones you love close, even if awkwardly, and let the love of your heart fill your arms and flow into them. How to pick a lock and hot wire a car (hypothetically speaking).

And all the rest she'll pick up along the way. I did. (glancing down at my nails) even learned how to paint my nails and not get the color everywhere. Never did learn to like pink though.


Friday, April 20, 2012


If there is one thing in this life that I regret, besides having something in life to regret, is that I know i've hurt people.
And while I understand that sometimes hurting someone is inevitable, it is also something in my pysche that I don't let go of easily.

Now don't get me wrong I don't regret hurting ALL of the people that I know I've hurt.  I think I may regret that I was in a situation to need to hurt someone, but I don't regret the hurt.

There are some hurts that were calculated, I took pleasure in them. I knew it was going to hurt, I intended for it to hurt and in some cases I stood over the person after warning them repetitively that I was going to hurt them and asked them to explain to me in detail just how BAD it hurt, so that I could relish in it.
In my mind those hurts were warranted, many of the were in retaliation and defense.

I kinda take pride and the fact that I've never purposefully hurt "an innocent bystander". Oh I am fully aware, that I have hurt people unintentionally, and those are the some of the ones I regret.
The ones where you're having a bad day and you forget to smile at the lil' kid running wildly through the store.  I remember being that kid and I remember the way the person I ran up to cut me to the bone. I was trying so hard to impress her, I wanted her to know how pretty I thought she was with her vibrant red hair... and I remember how I bungled the words.  I'm pretty sure I said something like "you look so beautiful for your age" ...and I remember the way this grown woman stood above me in our small town grocery store and tore chunks of my soul from me.  I remember the way she turned form one of the prettiest women I'd thought I'd every known, to one of the evilest.  I know think of her flashing green eyes and crows feet, deep trenches between her brow and around her mouth each time I am in the company of someone who is physically better looking than me and no matter what they are saying, I hear this woman telling me how my hair was oily, my skin too dark, i was stupid and rude and friendless.  I hear her voice each time I add or subtract. Multiply or divide and I am transported back to middle school and my pulse quickens. And I marvel at how, 31 years old, I can still feel like a lost little girl in the 5th grade.
And I regret that. I regret that someone hurt me. So I smile more at little kids and preteens and teenagers and older people--because I don't want to be the one to cause them any more hurt than they already know.
Even when I am casually running my mouth, I wonder "damn I hope so and so doesn't take that wrong," or "i know i shouldn't have laughed about xyz cuz they might see it some day and get hurt"....its the plague of being and em-path.

 Life is about hurt-- thats what I think, so I try my best to minimize the hurt that I cause. I know I am gonna have to hurt people so I internalize it until I find the best way to limit the impact.

But the hurts I regret are the ones that I've caused to people who only wanted to see me happy. They weren't out to hurt me... they just...were there... caught in the cross fire.
Those are the ones I regret.
The curly headed little blonde who could have been me...Britney, Poodle...I regret letting her out of my life and I pray daily that I find her again and tell her that SHE was the BRAVE ONE.

The short pixi...Nicole... PeeWee, Aniece, Tawania, Jacob, Jiame, Julio, Justin, Amy, Concetta, Q, Torrence, Martha.... I can never take back the way I hurt them. And some of them understand that its just me...they live with it...and i live with the way they've hurt me. But I wish it wasn't like that. I wish I never had to hurt them.
Some of them are gone from this world and I hope that were every they are, they know I am sorry and that I love them.

Nope, there isn't a lot that I regret in this world...but somethings...
yeah, there are somethings

Crazy, Just like me.

I hear that a lot. Why, do you blog the way you do? Why do you put things out in the world that way?  I hear why almost as much and as often as I hear that I shouldn't.  I also hear questions of if its all real or all imagination if I am truly crazy.

I'd like to be all altruistic and say " I do it because I know it will help someone else." While that is part of it, Its not the whole of it. I'd be lying if I said it was my only motivation.
I've been honest when I say that the manner in which I blog is simply a release for me. Its a way of getting whats in me out.
Close your eyes for a minute and think of that one thing you do that gives you that rush at the end, not the rush of hard pumping adrenaline where you can't catch your breath, but that rush of peace, security and well being that you feel at the end of the adrenaline dump.
Thats why I do it. Its the way that I find peace in myself. Well, one of the ways.

And a long time a go I recognized that I am not the only one that feels the way I do. I know (from quiet emails) that my words strike cords with many. Some people wish they could say what I say. Some people  wish I'd just shut up.  Some people find themselves in my words and some worry that others will find them hidden in my words.

But there are times when the words are not my reality. They aren't exactly how I am feeling about someone, but how I fear that someone maybe viewing me.  Some times they are a mix of my views and someone elses.

And lots of times they are fantasy... a character steps forward and has this amazing monologue and its beautiful. So I pen it down for them and then they step back. As was the case with "girlfriends".  True, I could so agree with some of what she was saying...I knew a person like that, hell I know a couple of people who probably look at me like that. What she ( the character ) had to say, resonated within me.
It was true for me...and it many ways it was probably universally true for a lot of people.

A lot of people get upset by my blogs. And when I sit back and analyze those closest to me, I realize they are upset because they recognize something in my words about themselves.  See their insecurities parallel with mine. Maybe find accusation hidden between the letters. Something resonates with them and its uncomfortable.

And I know that feeling well, the uncomfortable ache. Your skin is too tight, your breath is too shallow.
How dare you kill me softly? I've seen myself in others words, learned about myself in the pages of a strangers notes. Found myself in rambling wildly.

I remember, when I lost my mind...and yeah I think you're crazy...just like me.

Because Elle Inspired Me

Well that and the release of Magic Mike

unedited copyrighted untitled 2012... don't be a douche and steal it, its going in a wip for tante shara and i'd hate for her to need to hurt anyone.

J'Kori concentrated on the image of himself reflecting back through the tinted windows of his home gym.  The shot gun effect that allowed him to see the mirrored view of his back  bouncing back off the wall of mirrors was one of his favorite reasons for conducting his lil 'dance off's at this time of morning...
the other was that his wife and newborn son  where so occupied with the backs of their eyelids that he could get a good two hour work out in before devoting his day to them.

the mere thought of his wife must have influenced life around him. he image of her smooth velvety skin juxtoposed with the silk of their wight sheets danced in his minds eye. His hips automatically shifted their rhythm to the deep vibration of the slow dubstep.  And J'Kori imagined himself dancing for her.
the muscles in his body  isolated and then released themselves in what he knew was a hyptonic pace and he let the music take him-- closed his eyes and dreamed that he was on stage and she was his audience.

Biting his full lower lip between stark white teeth he moved to the music gyrating his hips then mimicing the smooth way he loved to roll them between her thighs, adding that extra lil thrust just at the end of the glide.

letting his body take over , J'kori raised his the hem of his tank top knowing that his sight of his abs would illicit  a rushed of need from his woman, he felt a bead of sweet start tracking from his neck and he concentrated on rolling his body slowly, making that bead tumble down the caverns of his itched body like a  plinko chip until it settled in his belly button.

It was  then that he lost his groove...
her hands brushed up the front of his thighs...the long nail on her pointer finger dipping slowly into his belly button to retrieve that little bead of sweat, then retrace its path up his body until they reached their favorite play ground---the gaged barbell nipple rings..

J'Kor stopped his dance and waited only the sound of his breathing--his heart beating was louder than the now thunderous bomb of the electronica fusion. He would be waiting a long time.

His wife dipped her head and hid her face, her shoulders shaking, i took a moment for him to realize she was looking over his shoulder's.
Opening his eyes he stared into the mirror and nearly fainted with laughter as their nephews pranced around the dance floor closest to the windows and the door, their movements where jerky and cosmically...and he realized the lil beasts where doing their damnedest to imitate him. Horrible versions of the stinky leg and the dougie mixed with what he could only assume was some kinda plucked chicken dance combined with what might be a new aged charleston.

Their sister stood just inside the door shaking her tiny head in a manner way too grown up , and mature to be coming from a five year old.

"When did they get here?" he asked, hiding his laugh behind a towel.

"About 2O minutes ago, I was coming to get you for breakfast but I guess my brother thought i was taking to long and sent out the cavalry." She giggled as she stretched up on tip toe to kiss his chiseled jaw.

J'Kori smiled down at his wife..." they are definitely your nephews, they have no rhythm."

"you weren't complaining about my rhythm last night."

J'Kori didn't even flinch as his wife strode past him, gathering the boys as she went...for a moment he just stared after them then he stepped forward and grabbed his niece's hand and followed them form the studio...

"Unca J, " the pintsized lil' diva looked up at him.

J'kori stopped and listened to his small companion,  wondering what wisdom the tiny person would bestow on him this time...

"Yes pumpkin?"

"those three ain't got no rhythm."

"oh and you do ?" He raised an eyebrow in askance.

""yup", she nodded her curly little head mater factly.

"well lets see your moves pipsqueak"

his niece took that challenge and ran back into the studio. J'kori smiled as she pushed play on the tiny boom box and restarted the song he'd been dancing too...his jaw hit the floor had his little angel began and intricate series of isolations, where had his  five year old prince learned to tut, c-walk any of was the most amazing robotic precision he'd ever seen. each move hitting in perfect syncopation with the music...t
when she stopped J'Kori  just stood in silence waiting for her to move...slowly like a mechanic toy she turned her head towards him and then a tiny robot smile appeared and a wink...
once she broke character she ran to him...and said
"I got skills uncle J and you got served" as she skipped past him and  down the hall.
J"kori followed slowly in a daze...
it would be hours before he could get his mouth to stay closed and swallow is pride enough to ask his niece to teach him .