It's a Marathon. Not a Sprint.

"On your marrrrrk.  Get setttttttttt.  GO!"  Dang!  I would get super psyched as a little brown ashy kneed girl when it was time to "race" friends in elementary school!  We would make sure our sneaker laces were double tied and hecka tight, then we would tie our sweaters around or waists and race.  Top speed!  Racing down to the kid 50 yards or so away that was waiting to declare the winner by quickly dropping their arms to their waist when we crossed that imaginary finish line.  I would like to think my friends were eating my dust most of the times because in my mind I had doing what hood babies call, "booking!"  Look it up.

Things seemed so urgent when we were younger and everything needed to happen so fast, you know? We ran from one thing to the next.  Even skipped at times.  Never walked slowly or leisurely.  Racing here.  Racing there.  When I think about it now it makes me tired!  Don't believe me?  Just watch any random little kid that is otherwise healthy and watch them skip, run, jog, hop, trot from there to there.  I move much s l o w e r now.  Ain't no more running or skipping here and there.  Ain't nobody got time for that!  It's more like a graceful stride from one thing to the next when you are in your 40's, especially if you are trying to preserve your grown woman sexy.  I digress.  So, imagine my utter disbelief and utter confusion when a few girlfriends told me they were indeed going to run in the Oakland Marathon this past weekend!  Like…WHY???  *arms flailing in the air*  But a good friend would do the right thing and root them on from the sidelines and that's just what I did.        

The journey of a 1,000 miles begins with a single step...

Now, I had never seen a marathon up close and in person (score again for answering the question in 2014, "When is the last time you did something for the first time?") so I had no idea what to expect.  All I knew was I was waking up too damn early on a Sunday morning just to stand on the sidelines alongside other people just-a clapping and screaming for some friends running by me in a marathon.  But guess what?  It was incredibly inspiring and amazing and eye opening and fun!  The positive energy out on those Oakland streets was contagious and it was all because of the runners.  There were tall folks, short folks, slim folks, chunky folks, folks that had clearly prepared, folks that seemed woefully underprepared but they all had one thing in common; they were committed.  Plain and simple.      

At different times during the marathon, I was "this" close to tears with the totality of the experience of watching people push themselves to the limit.  And in between making my way from one part of the marathon route to the next part of the marathon route there was plenty of time to reflect on just what was happening.  Life lessons were playing out live and in color right before my tired and red eyes from getting up so damn early on a Sunday morning!  I came home and scribbled a few things down and here is what I came up with, in no particular order:

1.  Enjoy The Journey & The View:  The race wound through parts of Oakland that many have not seen, which offers a more favorable view than what the nightly news offers viewers.  There is goodness right here in our backyards, if we just open our eyes and see it.  Just like in life, even while making our way to our destination we can still take the time to absorb the good that's happening around us even amidst the drama.  Relish in it.  Smile at it.  Beautiful is beautiful no matter where you happen to be in life.

2.  Take Help From Others When It's Offered:  Along the race route there were volunteers offering water and snacks to the runners without the runners having to ask.  And they cleaned up the mess that was left behind when runners grabbed the offerings as they kept running!  It's perfectly fine to let others help us along our journey because everyone needs help. Sometime.  And because there are people that want to and need to help us, we should take the help.  No questions asked.

3.  Keep Going Even When You Have Fallen Far Behind The Pack:  There were runners in the marathon that were clearly breezing through the hills and flatlands of Oakland on their way to the finish line.  Waving and smiling as they breezed past the cheering sections.  *Show Offs*  And then there were others that were putting forth the maximum effort to just put one foot in front of the other without throwing in the stinky, musty, dirty towel. But those folks kept right on going.  Never quitting and if they stopped it was just to catch their breath, readjust their Beats By Dre, take a sip or two or three of water and they would get right back at it.  Isn't that what we are challenged to do every day?  It matters none that we are not ahead of the pack because we have to pause to get ourselves together here and there. It matters only that we are in the race.  

4.  Everyone Needs Somebody To Cheer Them On:  Strangers cheering on strangers along the race route was the order of the day.  "You got this!"  "You're almost there!"  "Keep going!"  And the look of appreciation…mixed with a little exasperation…on the faces of the runners was priceless.  We can do that for one another day to day.  Offering a kind word to someone is an easy thing to do that can make a huge difference in someone's day.  I dare you…triple dog dare you to try it.

5.  The Best Gift We Can Give Others Is Our Time:  Yeah, I woke at the "butt-crack" of dawn to cheer my friends on during the marathon.  But so did countless other people.  And I can't tell you how many times my friends thanked me for just showing up.  They knew good and damn well I could have chosen to stay snuggled in my bed next to the best boyfriend I have ever had in my whole life, or spent the day at some mall shopping for an outfit, or sitting on my balcony sunning in 70 degree perfect weather in March…you get the point.  But I chose to spend my time sharing that experience with them.  And that was just…cool.  Who in your life would appreciate just a little bit of your time?  

What's the point if you aren't having a good time?

6.  It Does Not Matter How Fast You Run, It Matters That You Finish: Every single person that crossed that finish line was SO happy!   Baby, they threw their arms in the air, some let out a "Wooooo Hoooo!" and others were congratulated by supporters giving them pats on the back and warm embraces.  All because the runners finished.  Not all at top speed, either.  They simply...finished.  Many of the runners did not compare their time to anyone else's time, either since their satisfaction came from setting a goal and reaching it.  What's that old saying, "Comparison is the thief of joy"?  Yep…that!    

The old adage, "It's a marathon, not a sprint." has never rang more true for me than this past weekend.  While I do not think I will ever train for a marathon, run said marathon and bask in "Medal Mondays", I am absolutely psyched to have shared that experience with a few of my girlfriends!  It was my great pleasure to be a part of an instant community of well wishers of all ethnicities, beliefs, ages, backgrounds, shapes and sizes that created a LOUD chorus of encouragers.  When I think about it, this past Saturday was my best opportunity in a good long while of being kind to absolute strangers and expecting nothing in return.  And!  I left feeling more inspired than I have in some time ready to face another day in this marathon we know as life.  Pacing myself.  Enjoying the view.  Pushing forward even when I fall behind.  Taking help from others.  Offering my time along the way.  And finishing strong.  Thank you for the lesson Cindy, Natina and Tamesa & job well done on your first relay marathon!  #blackgirlsrunliterallyandfiguratively  

Turn Down For What?!?!?

"Scandalous Thursdays!"

"Hi!  My name is Faith Margaret and I watch Scandal."  I enjoy it.  Thoroughly…and will blog  right here about all new episodes on Thursday nights beginning next week.  Oh!  Your theories about what is happening next in this suspenseful show are welcomed along with my musings.

“Be nice to them.  Just be nice.”  Mellie and Fitz putting on a front for their children that are growing up far from them just to pretend everything is fine.  I wonder how often does that happen around dinner tables every day as parents work through their marriages over time?  Clearly this is a disconnected family and the children feel uncared for and unimportant to their very cared for and important parents.  Bringing the kids in town to smile for the cameras and give the American people what they want to see…a family.  I was wondering just where the little baby was and he gets plopped on Mellie’s lap just in time.  I don’t even want to think of the challenges our current First Family must be enduring.  #notetoselfreadSashaandMalia’sbooks

Olivia is finally over Quinn because she pulled a gun on her and chose to walk away but Huck is feeling Quinn. So, the gross cat is jealous of Quinn and Huck and is turning into a stalker?  “You want me to kill him?”  Who tells their boyfriend it’s sweet of him to ask to kill the cat that is bothering her?

No she did not!  Olivia had a lot of nerve telling the Vice Presidential hopeful to stay away from Mellie.  “Glass houses, Olivia!”  But that Mellie is s l o p p y!  She gets caught with her slip showing (almost literally) by none other than her husband’s agreed upon mistress!  And her daughter!  “You were on your knees with Uncle Andrew!”  BOOM!  Then baby girl goes on to tell her daddy, the POTUS that Mellie is “doing it” with Uncle Andrew.  Oh, Lawd Jesus!  That’s a full 10 years of therapy RIGHT THERE for those poor children! 

I never trusted Harrison’s temptress and for good reason.  She is trying to save herself from Mama Pope who is no joke!  That temptress talks Harrison out of his tight pants (they make me very uncomfortable, by the way) and drugs him so she can get all the business out of the gladiator’s lair.  Interesting how Mama Pope is always in a scene decorated with grays, blacks and whites.  Just darkness and evil.   

 

“I am Command!  You don’t tell me to do anything and I am not your bitch!”  Oh, my! The Fake Command is trying to come into his own, huh?  He basically tells the POTUS that he ain’t running nothing but his mouth and he ought to stick to doing the easy stuff like giving interviews and shaking hands.  And here comes old Cyrus thinking he can actually harm The Fake Command for killing his husband, who was going to bring the entire White House down by snitching to poor David Rosen.

Now, on to the dysfunctional Pope Family!  Girl, you better listen to The Real Command and stop trying to dig up dirt on B6-13!  Didn’t you want him to be Daddy last week?  Here is Daddy being Daddy this week giving you a little bit of information to do what he’s pressuring you to do.  Save the Republic.  Mama Pope drops a line to Olivia and tells her she’d rather be at traitor than be the help to folks who’s messes she fixes and cleans up.  And.  And.  And!  Mama Pope commenced to threaten Olivia to mind her damn business!  IT’S ON!!!  Fascinating twist of the age old story of black women cleaning up behind everyone else and making everything alright for them with little regard for their own well being.  *message*

 

I still do not like Quinn.  Not one bit.  She’s quickly become a bit of a villain of the show and I really wish she gets whatever is coming to her already.  Oh!  I have never been able to lick a man across his face like that and get him all hot and bothered.  It’s just…nasty!  But Quinn and Huck are on another level and it’s working for them.  Cue the music, “Me and Mrs. Jones got a thang going on!”

Ladies and gentlemen, The Real Command versus The Fake Command.  Let’s get ready to rumble!!!!!  Round 1…ding, ding!  The Real Command offers The Fake Command a bit of mentorship to get through his new task?  Please!  “We are not equals.  Nor will we ever be.  You are alone.”  Basically, don’t come to me asking me for a damn thing, sucka!  And The Real Command didn’t even flinch when The Fake Command threatened to kill him.  Game.  On.  

Olivia ear hustles on a husband and wife quarreling over their affairs…literally.  Wouldn’t you listen in if you were her?  Hell.  Yeah.  After Big Jerry raped Mellie and impregnated her with the POTUS’ brother/son (wait for that to come out), Mellie told the POTUS she was no longer sexual after the birth of that child.  The POTUS waited for 10 years for Mellie to get her groove back again to no avail and ultimately another woman…enter Olivia…catches his eyes.  Now that the POTUS knows Mellie indeed likes to partake he feels betrayed and blames her for ruining their marriage and their children.  Mellie!  Tell him about his mean old dirty Daddy already!

EVERYBODY WAS JUST OUT OF DAMN ORDER TONIGHT!  E’RY DAMN BODY!

The Fake Command knows about Mama Pope and them…until next week

A Change is 'Gon Come! Well, hopefully...

There is a scene in the movie, "Boyz in the Hood" where Ricky (played by foine Morris Chestnut), Trey (played by the talented Cuba Gooding) and Brandy (played by the never aging Nia Long) are sitting in the library at THE Crenshaw High School waiting to take the Scholastic Aptitude Test also known as the SAT.  Ricky looks as if he's about to sweat bullets, Cuba is giving him an encouraging look fully understanding all that is riding on the SAT for Ricky and Brandy appears determined to do her best to realize her dream of going to college.  Time appears to pass s l o w l y as the three settle into the longest morning of their young lives.  

That scene (and countless others in the movie) is so familiar to me in part because it was filmed in the library of the high school I graduated from (Class of 1988, baby!) and the anxiety Ricky was feeling took over me when I sat to take that test over 25 years ago.  I was absolutely clear that my entire future was hinging upon my doing well on that damn test!  I was soon to emancipate from foster care and college was the best answer to the question I thought of every single day leading up to my high school graduation, "Where am I going to live?  That's another blog for another day, though.  

I hope to never see another Scantron in my life!

And after all of that, do you know I can't remember what I scored on the SAT?!?  It is entirely possible that my score was not worth remembering in the first place and brain simply decided to protect me from the PTSD associated with sitting for the SAT.  Or it could have been forgotten because when it's all said and done, it was of very little relevance at all.  What I do remember is the extreme emphasis our college advisor, Mrs. Goodman placed on college bound students doing well on the SAT.  Mrs. Goodman knew good and damn well most of us attending that urban high school nestled within feuding gang territory did not have the resources to benefit from an SAT preparatory class.  She knew many of us depended on the mock tests she got her hands on, administered to us and encouraged us to practice taking again and again to get ready for the big day.  Mrs. Goodman also knew the best most of us would be able to do to prepare for the SAT would be to heed her advice;  get plenty of sleep the night before, eat a good breakfast the morning of, be on time for the start of the test and remember not to guess if we did not know the answers to the questions.  I remember noticing many of us walking away from the testing center dazed, exhausted and relieved it was over.  And then we waited…

By now most of us have heard the recent news that the SAT, a test created in 1926 and adapted from the World War I Army I.Q. Exam to test innate intelligence, will be changed effective spring 2016.  After much debate and feedback from teacher, students and college admissions officers, The College Board will implement changes intended to addresses financial inequities among students (research shows the greater your household income, the higher you will score on the SAT), eliminate the advantage some students have as a result of being able to take the SAT prep courses and learn "tricks" for the test and actually test for what students are learning in high school.  Scoring for the 3 hour test will return to the old 1,600 point system, the essay portion will be optional and evidence based reading and writing will replace current sections on reading and writing.  

While there is plenty more to be addressed when it comes to the education system in this country, I am encouraged.  It seems that finally it is being acknowledged that plenty of good students that would do well in a college of their choice struggle with the SAT and thereby are at a disadvantage when college admission officers are pouring through countless college applications.  I had several colleges on my wish list and many of them sent the obligatory, "Thanks, kid but no thanks..." letter back to me dashing my hopes.  I mean, I was certain I had what it would take to succeed on any one of those campuses that declined my entrance but my SAT score told a different story.  I believed they did not know what I knew for sure back then.  The SAT I sat for many years ago did not test for among other things, nor did it predict:

1.  Resilience:  I managed to maintain an above average grade point average while living through being separated from my mother and sisters due to my mother's crack addiction that resulted in my sister and I being placed in foster care.  

2.  Flexibility:  I adapted to living with complete strangers (a foster mother, foster father and the 5 other girls) in the middle of adolescence all while managing my studies, participating in extra curricular activities and working at our local McDonald's (which is where I got my good work ethic, by the way…).

3.  Endurance:  Many times I was exhausted in high school with just thinking about my life circumstance.  I can't tell you how many times I cried myself to sleep wishing things were different in my family.  Yet in the morning I would hoist that heavy backpack onto my back and make my way to Mrs. Bayard's first period class on time.  I just knew I could have a better life if I applied myself despite what was going on in my life at the time.   

Even 1 can change a life...

4.  Passion:  I was the kind of student that had a thirst for learning.  Reading was an escape from the drama surrounding me and diving head first into homework was fun for me.  School was a refuge for me where I felt safe, cared for and capable, you know?  I would find a quiet space to spread out wherever I was, put on the headphones of my Sony Tape Player and get to learning.  I made sure to submit work that was neat, well thought out and complete…if we don't count Algebra II, of course.  I absolutely H A T E D that course and had it not been for Mrs. Odessa Washington's patience and understanding with my struggle in her class, the University of California at Santa Barbara (Go, Gauchos!) would not have seen my face nor heard my voice in their freshman class of 1988. 

Just like the kids of today, at 17 years old, I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest at the idea that one test would sum up my ability to succeed in a university setting and influence admissions officers thinking when reviewing my college applications.  I mean, what about year after year after year of learning that I made my way through?  All the homework assignments, papers, tests, projects…did they not count for anything?  Was my fate after high school truly left up to my ability to compete with other students that benefitted from the privilege of being able to take special courses and be tutored thus giving them an advantage on one test?  Absolutely not because here I am, 3 decades later having earned bachelor and master degrees working in a leadership position within a sizable public child welfare agency.  My score on the SAT would have predicted I would not complete an undergraduate degree, much less go on to earn another degree.  And I am certain I am not the only person with that kind of testimony.

Whatever the changes are to the SAT, I hope it works to give every young person an advantage regardless of their family's income or the resources they have access to.  I hope the new SAT encourages students from all backgrounds instead of filling them with dread and anxiety.  I hope the new SAT gives students the opportunity to showcase the totality of their best learning and invites them to display their ability to think critically about relevant questions (I did not use 90% of the words I studied for the SAT in college!).  I hope it inspires young people to look towards college with excitement and anticipation instead of leaving them discouraged and disappointed. 

There is enough to be discouraged and disappointed about for those of us working to find our way out of our disadvantaged childhood communities as the first in our families to attend college.  Taking the SAT should not be one of them.  

Not James, Lawd?!?! Why! Why! Why!

"Scandalous Thursdays!"

"Hi!  My name is Faith Margaret and I watch Scandal."  I enjoy it.  Thoroughly…and will blog  right here about all new episodes on Thursday nights beginning next week.  Oh!  Your theories about what is happening next in this suspenseful show are welcomed along with my musings.

Awww, man!  It was James!  Poor, poor James.  Now we get to understand the backstory for James and Cyrus. 

Cyrus looked horrible with that full beard.  Like a kindergartner that has trouble sitting still scribbled that mess on his face.  And James was a pest from the very beginning but was determined to get his man, “You have a very hot mouth.”  That’s a come on line?!?  *scribbling that down for future reference*  James always wanted to live an open life with Cyrus and demanded Cyrus be hones, hence his coming out to the POTUS in the best way he knew how.  And the POTUS was gracious avoiding shaming or judging Cyrus in any way.  *message*

David is lying now?  His white hat is a bit smudged because he can’t help but do the right thing with folks that do not care about what is right.  And he is afraid of Jake “The Fake” Command.  David can’t handle the pressure and gives it all up to Abby that 3 folks died, his life was spared by Jake “The Fake” Command and David has to cover it up as payment.     

Mama Pope is back, baby!  “I’m not a terrorist.  I’m more of a facilitator.  I make money.”  Did she straight shoot that cat?!?  Yes.  She.  Did.   She is not to be played with, baby!  And now she has Harrison’s sex buddy all scared and ready to go back to wherever she came from.  What is going on with Harrison and this mess?

Cyrus is always about his business and his business is saving The Republic even after his lover is murdered. “Let me work.  Let me do work.”  Wonder how the White House would function if Cyrus was the POTUS?  Folks would tiptoe around him, other countries would check themselves before crossing him and reporters would be afraid to challenge him.  He is something else! 

Huck is back in Olivia’s good graces now and guess what he discovers?  Yep!  That damn Quinn is back to doing what she has no business doing but seems to have wanted to be caught by looking dead into the camera.  Now, Olivia gets a clue about that damn Quinn and confronts Jake “The Fake” Command.  And I do declare, he shows up a teeny tiny bit believable in his new role as Command; “Random, coincidental, bad things happen to good people all the time.  I am Command, Olivia!  Who do you think?  This was my call!  I am protecting The Republic!”  Jake does the dirty work himself, though.  NO need to pull some innocent person into the fray when Jakes is Command.  And I do believed he threatened Olivia, the woman he covets.  Well, Olivia sends Huck on over to deal with Quinn and hits her with, “I came here to put you down.  I trained you.  I made you.  You wanted me to see you.  Somewhere in there you’re still a gladiator.”  Do you know that crazy girl spits in his face and then they make out?!?!  That’s.  Just.  Nasty!  I did not see that coming.  And now Huck is compromised!   

Mellie is shooting guns with her secret admirer?  Damn good shot, too!  I wonder if men are really excited by a woman that knows her way around a gun range and can handle a firearm?  I digress.  And then the governor from California hits her with the line that makes her feel all wanted and they are rolling around on the floor.  Women handling guns must be hot, right?  Mellie.  Mellie.  Mellie.   

Things are a such a mess that Olivia runs to Daddy Pope looking for a little bit of comfort.  “Hello, Olivia.  What do you want?”  A dad, The Real Command.  Olivia wants a dad.  But, who wants The Real Command to be a normal and kind dad?  I mean, really?!?!?  Didn’t we all see The Real Command give Olivia ample warning to run away from that burning building called, The White House?  Girl, bye!  But she posed a good question about the point of democracy, freedom and patriotism if everything is really just evil.  Ladies and gentlemen, class is in session!  I give you another passionately delivered dialogue from, The Real Command: 

“183.  That’s the number of people I’m responsible for killing.  Not the number I’ve killed…the number I’m responsible for.  There’s a difference.  You get an order to kill someone, well maybe you pulled the trigger but it’s not on you.  They ordered it.  If you didn’t kill the poor bastard somebody else would.  But when you become Command you are THE one giving the order!  You are THE one making the decisions!  You have to choose who lives, who dies.  You are responsible! So you become the hand of God.  183.  I know all of the names.  I now how old they were.  If they had children.  If they would be missed.  183.  I never made a decision lightly.  I always suffered a bit with each one.  The responsibility of that! The gravity of that.  The weight of it.  It marks me.  It stains me.  It never leaves me.  I am responsible!  183.  So whatever you think of Jake, however you want to punish him?  Being the hand of God is already the worst punishment IN the world!  And there is incidentally a point.  If there are no more white hats, if the deck is always stacked and if everyone you love is a monster, there is in fact someone worth saving…everyone!  Everyone is worth saving.  Even the monsters.  Even the demons. Everyone is worth saving! In the face of darkness YOU drag everyone into the light.  THAT is the point!  At least that is what I like to think that is the point of you.  Am I finished being dad now?  Are we done?”  And he leaves her with a clear understanding of her mission.  To fix it.  Again.  *applause*  Best believe The Real Command will not let a thing happen to his child that he has not approved.  In the words of my mother, Linda Dayle Jordan, “Believe that!”

Cyrus finally breaks down, poor thing.  Cue Gladys & The Pips, “If anyone should ever write my life story.  For whatever reason there might be.  You’ll be there between each line of pain and glory.  Cause you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”  *tears…like, real tears* 

Jake “The Fake” Command comforting James as he dies was just…unreal.  Until next week…

Go Ahead And Cry...

This blog right here?!?  This blog right here?!?  Is for somebody.  We never know if what we are experiencing and share can be healing for a stranger or even a close friend.  I know that for sure.  Here goes! 

A few weeks back I watched the movie, "Mahogany" staring Diana Ross and Billy Dee Williams.  That has got to be one of my favorite movies!  Of all times.  Like, "Don't nobody betta not botha' me when Mahogany is on!" favorite movie.  When "foine, foine, foine" Brian looks at super star Tracy with his hair all pressed and super fly wearing that turtle neck looking all handsome and says, " Let me tell you something, and don't you ever forget it:  that success is nothing without someone you love to share it with!"?  *gasp*  It's enough to make you cry out of sadness for the demise of the love affair between those two beautiful people.  I mean, I cry every single time I watch that movie and I grab the Kleenex at the same parts.  Every time.  But for some reason, no tears the last time I watched that movie.  That caused me to pause and think, "When is the last time I cried…for me?" 

A dear person in my life died suddenly at the end of December and I cried for him and his family.  But before that, I can't remember crying for some time.  I was moving through life seemingly in complete control of my emotions and definitely managing to push aside feelings of sadness and overwhelm that always seem to prompt tears cascading down my face.  I was too busy.  I was too tired.  I was too distracted.  But with his death the flood gates opened and I wept.  And wept  And wept.  Until finally I felt empty of tears and just sat in my sadness.  Eventually the deep sadness for the death of my friend subsided and now I am adjusting to the new normal of my work life carrying on without him.   
  

Let it flow...

The funny thing, though is while I cried a lot for my friend and his family I have cried very little for myself.  And that is not normal for me.  I am one of those women that needs to cry every now and then.  I need the release that comes from sitting with my feelings and allowing them to come to the surface.  Whatever kind of cry it is…joyous, grateful, sad, angry…it just needs to come out.  Why?  It is cleansing for me.  Often settles my anxious spirit.  Renews my soul for whatever is next.  Just like when I was a little, skinny, ashy kneed brown girl and my mother would send me to take nap after I got on her last nerves and fell out in tears?  I would always wake up feeling so much better.  Refreshed.  Renewed.  Lighter.  Nothing has changed for me as an adult and that cry and accompanying nap always come at just the right time.  

Ohhhh, but it's coming.  I feel a good cry coming on.  It is almost like I can smell it in the air, you know?  I am a bit more sensitive that usual.  A bit more easily offended.  A bit more easily annoyed.  That knot that rests in the back of your throat threatening to push it's way to the top of my throat and emit itself in a slight moan followed by that first big, warm tear drop?  It's there.  And this time that good cry is just for me.  For my life.

I am not sure what is going to happen to release the flow of tears this time.  Could be a movie.  Maybe a song.  Something I see.  Listening to a friend as they cry.  Or even something I hear.  I am not sure where it will happen, either.  I have cried in a warm scented bubble bath with a candle flickering in the distance.  I have cried in the bosom of an older woman at church attempting to console me while patting my back whispering, "Bless your heart.  It's alright, baby…"  I have cried in bed with my arms wrapped tightly around a pillow.  I have cried in my car as I made my way from one place to the next.  I have cried wrapped tight in the arms of the man that loves me, my tears leaving a wet spot on his nicely clean shirt.  All I know is when and where and why is not as important as it is that I allow it to happen.     

Sometimes in order to keep our happy we have to release whatever is heavy and overwhelming and confusing.  It's all a part of the process…the human experience.  I am holding on to my happy with both hands.  Even through the tears!

Now where is my box of Kleenex?  The moisturized kind, of course...

   

Who Got Shot?!?!?

"Scandalous Thursdays!"

"Hi!  My name is Faith Margaret and I watch Scandal."  I enjoy it.  Thoroughly…and will blog  right here about all new episodes on Thursday nights beginning next week.  Oh!  Your theories about what is happening next in this suspenseful show are welcomed along with my musings. 

I don’t care what he does or what he says.  I STILL do not believe Jake as Command.  He ain’t ready, baby!  He is confessing to Olivia that it just may be too much and wants to just be the cat that sells paper.  The REAL Command would NEVER say anything like that.  Period.  And Quinn gets to talk to Jake any damn way she pleases?!?  Cue my incredulous stare.  Come.  On!  You and I both know nobody talks to The REAL Command like that!  Fire Jake!  Fire Jake!  Fire Jake!  *stomping around in a circle with my picket sign*

Sally Langston is losing her righteous mind!  She would scare me if I ran into her with the clever way she can dress you down with her venomous tongue and her intimidating stare.  “Yum yum, crispy piggy!  Yum!  Yum!”  I have GOT to find a way to use that line in the midst of some heated argument I am having with someone.  I digress.  Sally’s number one dude is quite motivated to figure out how to stop Sally from confessing to the world that she killed her husband, effectively interrupting The REAL Command’s plan for fear of getting “fired” by The REAL Command.  Sally called Olivia the devil right before telling her she knows she is not a religious woman and won’t hold it against her.  That Sally has a way with words, doesn’t she?

David.  David.  David.  Believing Cyrus’ ultra sensitive husband will stand with him until the end, he runs to Olivia again with the drama.  He makes a good case to Olivia appealing to the White Hat part of her business (which must be collecting hella dust in the closet because she has not worn it in a minute), “This is your chance to be on the right side again, Olivia.”  Abbey rescued him last week from the trunk of a car behind that Publius mess and she cautions him one more time to be careful.  But does he listen?  No.  Typical.   

The REAL Command is working to push Sally Langston towards the White House in his mission to destroy President Grant and he will not be deterred.  Don’t you love his laugh?   Diabolical, evil and delightful at the same time.  Cyrus ran to Jake asking for him to let that weirdo, Charlie freelance from B6-13 and kill Sally Langston to avoid her confessing and destroying any chance of President Grant winning reelection, which Jake politely declines.   Not to be deterred, Cyrus makes a beeline to his homie for a little bit of help.  She tries to distance herself from the fray,  “I’m gonna walk into the light and feel the sun on my face, Cyrus!” but despite her best effort to deny him, she decides to clean up another horrible mess for the sake of the Republic.  Kinda reminds me of that scene from The Godfather when Al Pacino says, “Every time I try to get out, they pull me back in!”  Back to the shadows for you, Olivia. 

Jake wants Olivia to stand in the sun with him but she keeps lurking into the shadows with anyone connected to the White House.  He seems to really want to have a real relationship with Olivia.  Still.  And she disappoints him every time.  I can hear the chorus of angry voices in the background remarking about how much of a slut Olivia is for letting Jake take advantage of her while she still is navigating that mess Fitz.    

Incredulous that he has been lied to and left out of the goings on again, President Grant saves the day.  He steps in and offers Sally a sign from God that convinces her to not confess to the country she killed her husband.  Olivia makes her way back to Fitz after the debate and calls it what it is.  “How dirty and dark it is behind he curtain of power.  This is what we do.  This is how it works.  There is no clean.  Just like there is no Vermont.”  Basically, we do dirt for this thing we have going and instead of trying to clean up the dirt, let’s just enjoy it since it’s all around us.    

If Cyrus doesn’t stop crying an sniveling and apologizing to James when he gets busted and James shames him?  He only cries when he feels power slipping from him hands.  And David Rosen loses again!  James meets him to back out of joining his crusade to bring down murderers in the White House and he is back to square one. It’s almost comical, really.  Until someone shows up firing on folks and it is fake ass Command Jake.  My money is on David Rosen taking that last bullet.  And James runs sniveling into the night to be found next week in a fetal position in nearby bushes.    

Is Jake serious about letting Quinn into the B6-13 family or is he using her to even the score with Olivia after she did what she always does after she’s intimate with Jake.  Reminds him she is Team White House. 

It’s amazing to me the lengths people will go to maintain the ownership of power in the White House.  I mean, I knew it…but I really didn’t know it, you know?  With every episode of Scandal the more suspicious I become (like I needed much help) of what happens in Washington D.C.  It must be tough to know all the salacious, incredible and moral testing information as a political figure.  I imagine many of them seek therapy or some sort of support once they leave the political arena to just get their minds right.  Fascinating use of religion juxtaposed against the backdrop of power and evil in the White House.  I would be lost, too if I couldn’t hear Jesus’ voice anymore. 

   

They sure are hiding Kerry Washington’s pregnancy well.  Until next week…