Sunday, December 27, 2015

Living with Parents After 30

#TheSilverFox just looked at my outfit and laughed so hard she snorted. I guess she forgot she walked in on me in the bathroom and she was buck naked. #Closeddoorsmeannothing

Friday, December 25, 2015

Merry Christmas 2015

#MerryChristmas2015 from #thesilverfox and #reallifesuperman #ConwayChristmas

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Public Relations

Nobody ever accused me of being chill. I'm certainly not chill after this: 

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

The Best Compliments, 2

The saga with Nate the Salad Chef continues. 

Yesterday, Nate asked my coworker and I what we wanted for Christmas. I replied, "One karat diamond solitaire drop pendant necklace," because my parents taught me to tell the truth. 

This afternoon when I walk through the doors he hollars, "ALL HAIL, my woman is HERE! " All of the boys behind the counter and in front of the grease pit start whoopin' and hollerin'. Nate tells me, "I can't control myself when I see you coming." He looks at the kid behind the register, "She's beautiful! I've been trying to mess with her for seven years! Dogit, seven years since we opened!" 

The kid quips back, "Ya'ain't gotta tell me nothin' I got eyes too."

"Now wait a minute, son." He looks back to me, "I ain't want no mess outta you, this year we exchanging Christmas gifts!"

Wait! What? That escalated quickly. 

I guess #wegotogethernow #bestcompliments2015  #Properetiquettedictatesdonotacceptdiamondsfrommenyoudontdate #itsashamethatImemotionallyunavailable #hedoesntwantemotions #hejustwantsthecat #meow


Dodging Bullets

He came on so strong and eager to love that it scared me. I ran away by disappearing off of the face of the Earth. He continued to pursue me while I was in another relationship. On breaks we dated, off-and-on between the ages of 18-26. Eventually I believed us to be in a serious long distance relationship, until I was texted from a friend that he bought a ring for his real girlfriend. 

I was just somebody to waste time with on the phone. I was devastated. 

He continued to call, "I want to invite you to something special. If I send you an invitation will you attend?" 

"If it's your wedding, no."

"But you're special to me and it would mean a lot."


"I understand."

The Silver Fox stood there listening to my side of the telephone conversation. As soon as I ended the call she cradled me as I collapsed in her arms.

In the ultimate form of flattery he continued to call, to beg "Please run away with me," "Let's get married."

The night before his wedding I had him on speaker phone while sitting on the bed of my best friend. He asked me to agree to be in a relationship with him even after the vows were exchanged. "Michael, you've made your decision. You are walking down the aisle tomorrow; tonight, you just have cold feet. Marry that girl." I hung up. 

To save face in front of our friends he began spreading rumors about me. He told them that I have an over active imagination and a propensity to tell lies. He told them that I forced him to have sex with me. <insert WTF Black Girl meme> When I confronted him in front of the rumor recipients he unfriended and blocked me. 

It has been years since I have thought about these incidents. If I think about him at all I remember him fondly from high school, when I'd attended the secret parties he or my brother used to throw, flirting while working together at the Y, the way his eyes softened before we'd kiss, or how he sent me a love letter on the first day away at summer camp. Those memories shine brightly. 

In the spur of the moment those bad memories can be triggered. Today, I received another text. He's getting divorced. He's been caught cheating on his wife. 

It really is no surprise to me. 

Pardon me for a moment as I'm over here reveling. It has taken some years for the truth to come to the light, but like Keanu in Matrix I've managed to dodge bullets. 

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The Best Compliments

My second cousin always says, "You get the best compliments."

Today is no exception. 

On the average of twice a week I walk up the road to the local joint to pick up a salad. For years my friend Nate, behind the counter, hooks me up with the salad. He always says, "My Boo ain't gonna go hungry."

I walk up the road today and he tells me, "Somebody ordered your salad. They asked for me so I jus knew it was you. I gave you my phone number on your salad box last week. Said for you to text me. It wasn't you that texted back - it was somebody said, 'This isn't who you think it is." I tried to be slick and get you to talk to me but it wasn't you." 

He leans forward, "Can I have your number?" 

But before he got 'number' out of his mouth he knocked over an entire display on the check-out counter.

"Mane, you make me so nervous talking to you I knocked everything over."

I am beyond flattered. It's funny, I still see myself as that ugly, pig-nosed, super-awkward girl from middle school and the girl I was in high school who never once got asked on a date. But the truth is I've got Brothers out here tripping over themselves trying to work up the courage to ask for my phone number. That beats the hell outta the self-esteem of the teenage girl I used to be who always thought she was repulsive to the opposite sex. 

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

If I Only Had A Heart

Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz is who I wanted to be when I grew up. She went on a fabulous, colorful, once in a lifetime adventure in the process gaining friends, all while wearing the most spectacular sparkle shoes. Plus, Dorothy had all of the characteristics of intelligence, courage, and love that her new found friends were so desperately searching for. Her courage, love, and resourcefulness only exceeded on the adventure with her new friends. During her quest to return to the dreary Kansas prairie she learned she had everything she already wanted and needed at home.  

I have always thought of myself as a Dorothy-type character. We are both from Kansas, love making new friends, and we both love our vibrant, sparkle shoes that lead us home.  

For all of the years I dated his father I lived with the belief that this boy hated me. He regularly voiced his anger towards me being in their life.

It wasn't until I had been removed from the house for many months that I realized how much I am truly loved and love them. Fortunately my relationships with the children has survived, mended, and gotten stronger. The honest, heartfelt emotions that were once difficult to say in the past have become easy.

Last night Nick had an Emergency Room trip when the bathroom mirror detached from the wall and fell on him. A completely random freak accident that slit open his forearm and knee, requiring stitches. 

Today, I stopped by to check on him. With a simple gesture, Nick said more to me than he's ever done in the years that I've known him. He ran back to his bedroom and came back with a small lapel pin in the shape of a heart and marked with the gold Boy Scout insignia. 

In Boy Scouts when a young man earns a higher rank they customarily honor their mother or the most influential woman in their life by pinning her with a Mother Pin. I knew the small, red heart he brought back from his bedroom is the Mother Pin for the Life Scout rank. 

"That's great, Nick! I'm so proud of you!" I said to him. I am still just as proud as I was on May 18th when I sat in the audience at the ceremony to see him earn the rank of Life Scout. I hold the Mother Pin out to return it to him. 

Like a Jedi performing a mind trick, he waves his hand at me to signify that he has given the pin to me. 

"Are you sure?"

He waves his hand at me again and bows his head. 

"Really, Nick?" 

He bows again and pushes his right hand up towards me, palm side facing towards the ceiling. 

My eyes well up with tears and I can't keep them from bubbling over the edge. I'm smiling, laughing, and crying all at the same time, "I'm crying because I'm so happy." 

For the first time in four years he permits me to hug him and in the biggest twist of events, stitches and all, he returns my hug. 

His action means more than he knows. I don't know what I have done to deserve this, but today without the pomp and circumstance of the Boy Scout ceremony Nick presented me with this pin.
 That moment holds all of the importance of the ceremony, but it means more to me because Nick made this decision on his own, in his own time, sharing with me his respect and affection.  

Today, I learned that I am not Dorothy at all. For all of these years I've been the Tin Man. I've had a heart all along but, as The Wizard of Oz explains, "A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others." 
Today, my heart is full.

Monday, September 14, 2015

Sunshine, Soccer, and Sprinkles

The boy I tutor doesn't like to go outside. He says he'd rather work on the computer inside than get sweaty outside. But today, something changed. After working on sentences he asked, "Can we go outside?"

He brought his semi-new soccer ball with us outside. This is not the same little boy from May. He used to scowl to go outside to pass the soccer ball. We've been working on his dribbling, kicking, and passing skills. 

Without a word he dropped the soccer ball on the ground and started running while kicking it forward. He ran all the way to the gate of their gated community and back to the house. A month ago he couldn't dribble to himself!! 

Before I left for the day he looked at me and said, "Miss Averill, can we go outside again and kick the soccer ball to the fence and back?"

"Yes, but it's raining. Do you still want to go?"

At that moment the sun burst out from
behind the clouds. We were both looking outside and in amazement he says, "Wow! I didn't know the sun could do that!"

I responded, "God can do anything. Isn't that what you learn in school?"

"Yes, but I've never seen it like that before."

He grabbed his soccer ball and took it back outside to dribble to the fence. It is sprinkling on him, leaving wet specks on his glasses, but he's keeping up with the ball. His black pants, covered in yellow Batman symbols, and his space cat t-shirt are making me giggle as I watch and encourage him, admiring his freedom. When I meet him back in the driveway I ask him, "What was it like to play in the sprinkling rain?"

"I forgot it was even raining because I was working so hard, but I like it. I've never played in the rain before." 

I've seen God work like the sun coming through the clouds. I've seen it in him over the last four months. 

Emotions and The Unknown

I've been emotional this weekend. Last night I got my feelings hurt and my ego bruised. Today I've been wallowing in self-pity because of my hurt feelings. 

Today, as my friend and I were walking back from lunch we saw commotion at the corner of Mynders at Patterson. There is a person on the ground surrounded by students and police officers. Traffic is rubber necking, police are directing traffic and sirens are filling the air with screams.  

A student walking the opposite direction tells us, "He passed out while driving. They've moved his car and pulled him out of it. They're doing CPR."

We are on the opposite side of the street as we walk past. The student's Chacos are fashioned to his feet. He's wearing khakis and a long sleeved, cornflower blue button-up. His hair is pushed back from his face and his skin on his face is blue. 

The firemen jump out of the slowing fire truck ripping open flat, white, square, paper packages, kneeling on the ground next to this kid. The gathered crowd of shocked and curious onlookers is growing. They're asking each other, "Do you know what happened? What's going on?" 

As I slipped on my stretchy pants this morning I never thought there was a possibility I could be laying on a street corner with my life in limbo. I'm sure this student did not have that thought either. My friend and I walk towards our office building and tears begin falling for this kid; whatever I am dealing with is nothing. Nothing! 

Please say a prayer for this kid and let the people you love know they are loved. Give them extra hugs tonight. 

Thursday, August 27, 2015

II Corinthians

As many, many of you know, I was raised Catholic - yep, I'm a "dirty knee bender," fallen, unpracticing, "unChristian" heathen. I've been called it all including "Mary worshiper" because I was given the pleasure of growing up in the Bible Belt. I'm about to admit something else that will make some of you place me at the top of your prayer list: I don't know the Bible. 

Yep, a real life, living and breathing unchurched sinner is in your midsts. 

However, tutoring this kid, who goes to a private Christian school, I am forced to memorize Bible verses with him. I usually sing them to him, like the songs I remember from my Sunday School or Catholic Church Camp. Last week it was, "The heavens declare the glory of God..." The poor kid always looks at me like he's terrified, but the first couple of times he repeats it back to me I can faintly hear him humming the song I sang. 

This week his scripture, he always corrects me to say Bible verse, is "May the grace of The Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you."

At this point I whisper, 'also with you; You may go in peace now to love and serve The Lord,' because that is how a priest dismisses mass. 

I complete the verse by telling him, "Eleven Corinthians 13:14"

"Uh, Miss Averill?"


"I think that's supposed to be Second Corinthians, not eleven."

"Yep, yep it is. Thank you for correcting me."

#imgonnalearnyou #aimingforstraightAs #unchurched #imasinner #ifollowthegoldenrule #churchhumor #ratedG

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Diary of a Spinster: Here Comes the Bride

Today I found a wedding dress, tried it on, fell in love with it, and bought it. 

The bride is the daughter of  Real Life Superman and The Silver Fox. She is a graduate of the University of Memphis with a bachelors degree in English Literature and History with a minor in Sociology. She has no plans, date set, or groom, but she revels in her awesome life and her preparedness for all of the possibilities and spontenaity in her future.

Moving to Memphis

As I spent the weekend driving to Memphis I thought it was a serendipitous event that every radio station along the interstate just happened to be playing Elvis music. There I was in my Dad's Maroon Taurus following him in the Uhaul that carried all of my earthy possessions to Memphis. Once I arrive in T-county I must admit my surprised that the Elvis music was not a good sign from the universe but a tribute to and remembrance of Elvis' death. That was 16 years ago today. 

Tomorrow is the 38th anniversary of Elvis' death. 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

A Lesson in the Form of Cheetos

Yesterday I was nice to Scrunchie. Because these chips tear up my stomach, I give her an opened bag of Jalapeño Cheetos. She eats them every morning for breakfast and never turns down free food so I know she will take them off of my hands. She accepts the bag, "Yeah, I'll eat them."

As I am walking away from her I think, "Damn, she didn't even say thank you, but then again, I mean, it's an already opened bag of Cheetos." 

I think about how this year my life has been invaded by a lazy, ungrateful, self-absorbed, inconsiderate, unappreciative, entitled, controlling, manipulative, meddling, lying asshole. But then again it's just an opened bag of Cheetos and it is not being accommodated with a roof over her head and a bunk bed to sleep in all while feigning utter helplessness and pretending homelessness. It's just an opened bag of Cheetos that I would have thrown away. 

So, I pull my head out of my ass and tell myself to get over not being thanked. 

This morning, I hear her on the other side of the cubicle wall unruffling the plastic of the Cheetos bag. I hear her crunching individual cheese and jalapeño coated crisps. She moans in delight. Instead of hating every utterance coming from her cubicle, as I usually do, I think, "Wow, I'm really glad she is able to enjoy those chips."

Shortly afterwards she knocks on the screen door to my cubicle, "Hey Averill?"


"Thank you for breakfast this morning."

Sometimes you aren't ready for the reward without the lesson God is teaching. 

Monday, August 10, 2015

National S'mores Day

The proverbial "they" say that a person only truly experiences unconditional love once you have a child. I do not have my own biological children, but Jeff let me share his Little Rottens for almost four years. 

In the past six months there has not been much communicating. Last week I texted  the kids. 

I'm homesick. But what I really mean by homesick is I miss them so much that my heart is broken, but they are intuitive enough to read that on their own. 

So it is settled, even though Jeff and I are no longer together, his girls want to continue our tradition of celebrating National S'mores Day, making today our fifth annual S'mores festivity. 

Here they are in my kitchen tonight preparing the S'mores and sneaking marshmallow snacks.  

We shared hugs, tears, smiles, laughed at old antics and new stories, as well as making new memories over a bowl of Taco Soup and our favorite August 10th dessert. 

I miss these ladies tremendously and I am only slightly less homesick after their visit. I can honestly say that because of them I finally understand unconditional love. 

Who would have ever thought all of that could all be found inside a gooey marshmallow and chocolate covered graham cracker? Certainly not I. 

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Stealing My Shine

If ever there was a day that the devil has been trying to steal my shine, it is today. 

First thing this morning, I put on my favorite blue dress and head out to work. Making a quick stop at the gas station I purchase a $.65 soda fountain drink. While I am in line the store manager hollers at me from her office, "Girl, I didn't know you were pregnant." 
I look around because I know she's not talking to me. 
"Ehhh, Chee-chee," she makes noises to get my attention.
I mouth "Me?" and point to my chest.
"Yes, Girl! I didn't know you were pregnant!" 
By this time a line has formed behind me because the cashier is changing out the log tape.
"Me either. I'm not. I'm just fat."
Someone in line laughs entirely too loud, "She just said she's fat!"
Manager, "Are you sure?"
Me, "Yes, I'm just fat."
Manager, "Should you be wearing those heels so far along in your pregnancy?"

At this point there is no telling what shape of disgust my face makes as the register tape change out was completed. From now on I'm going to have to wear a belt with this dress. 

#suckinthatgut #didyounothearme 

But with every low something bigger and better eclipsed the bad. I was sitting at my desk brooding over how fat and ugly I must look today when I had to use the facility. 

A photograph sent to my best friend while brooding. 

On my way to the restroom Mr. Jimmy, our janitor & maintenance man, stopped me out in the hall, "I just have to stop you to tell you how lovely you are." 

Wow! He said "lovely." How can I even focus on the devil stealing my shine when God is shining at me through others? 

#IrebukeyouinthenameofJesus #Getbehindmesatan #illshineinspite

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Bucket List 2015

Starting last year I wrote a bucket list or as I like to call it Adventures. My goal is to accomplish at least 12 items off of the list and write about them. Last year I completed 18 adventures, I only blogged about one. 

This year I'm at a stagnant pass. I've completed some items, but none of them are really adventurous or blog worthy. 

I'm looking for partners in crime or leads to complete some of these tasks. I would appreciate any help. 

The ones in black are currently being worked on. The ones in black and highlighted pink I've completed. Don't worry what is under the yellow.

#memphisblogger #memphisfamous

Wednesday, July 8, 2015


Yesterday evening The Silver Fox and I went on a walk together. When she goes on walks she likes to cut the corners. I like to walk around like I'm working crosswalks, making a giant bubble. In order to keep up with her I have to jog the corners. 

As we are approaching a corner I cut behind her and begin jogging. I look to my right because I hear her footsteps falling in synch with mine. 

"Hey, why are we jogging?" she asks. 

"We aren't jogging. I'm jogging to keep up with you cutting corners."

"Oh. Well you better catch up," she cackles as she cuts the corner while continuing to jog. 

"I'm made for comfort not speed; comfort!" 

That being said, as of this morning I've worked off 10 pounds of comfort. 

Friday, June 26, 2015

West Virginia Black Bear

The Black Bear is the state animal of West Virginia. 

I was a senior in high school when I lived in the East Pear Ridge neighborhood in Huntington, WV. It was a half a day of school and I was charged with picking up my baby brother from EPR elementary school. 

My mom called the house from work. This was a time before cellphones. It's doubly important because she never called unless we were in trouble or had a chore list to complete. She worked across the street from East Pea Ridge at Kmart on 64, and she was frantic that I needed to keep Trey inside the house and be extremely careful when I pickup Blais​e. She said there had been a Black Bear cub wandering around the Kmart parking lot. Nobody had spotted the mother but they are ferocious in protecting their babies. Before we hung up the cub had crossed Highway 64 and was walking up East Pea Ridge.

Sure enough, I go outside and this bear cub is walking up our street! He crosses down the hill, we lived on the top of a mountain but in West Virginia they just call them hills, and makes his way through the wooded neighborhood. 

I drive five street over to the elementary school to pick up Blaise. By that time the bear cub had made it to the elementary school playground! Animal protective services was called, so were the police and fire department. They barricaded us in the parking lot to stop traffic. They encouraged us to get out of the car to watch the excitement unfold. Blaise and I had front row seats to what happened next. 

The bear cub, scared, lost, and confused climbed a tree. The animal services shot him a few times with a tranquilizer gun. We watched as the bear cub became drowsy and fell from the tree. They tagged him and eventually released him back into the woods. Nobody was harmed from a lost, wandering bear cub. 

This is one of my favorite memories I share with Blaise. I can't imagine how scarred I would have been had this bear been unloaded upon with a shotgun. Shameful, just shameful. 

Of course this young bear became irritable, he was being hounded by paparazzi and followed. He's used to living his bear life, not bothered, in the woods. What has changed in 19 years that a young Black Bear is gunned down by a police officer in Huntington, WV instead of being tranquillized, captured, and released back into the wild?

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Only a Three

I told my best friend this week that every aspect of my life sucks sh*t except for my relationship with her. She laughed and in the way she does saw the good side, "At least I'm a positive." 

On a beautiful Sunday afternoon I'm really struggling with going into work at the DayJob tomorrow. On Friday the Interim Vice Provost came down into the basement "to have a frank conversation with everyone." He proceeds to tell us that he has taken it upon himself to change the rubric for how employee evaluations are scored. The scores are going to remain on a scale of 1-5: 1 is unsatisfactory performance, 2 needs some improvement to meet position requirements, 3 meets position requirements, 4 frequently exceeds position requirements, and 5 is distinguished performance, with decimal points being used as intermediate values to the nearest tenth. However, appraisers will now be grading on a harder scale, a truer scale, a more honest interpretation of employees work, the good as well as the bad. 

He says matter-of-factly, "Nobody is a 5. A person that is a five is glowing - they can do no wrong. And frankly, I shouldn't see many fours either. Most everyone should and will be rated a three. So we won't be seeing overall performance ratings of 90s. Your rating will drop drastically."

I have plenty of issues with evaluations such as the fact that I have never been given goals to reach, merit raises are non-existent, and rewards systems such as Award certificates are neglected. But here are my main issues with the whole situation. If I am going up for a position against a person in another department that is continuing to be rated as a Rock Star and the hiring supervisor looks at my Performance Appraisal and I'm only achieving a 3, I could see where they would have a hard time choosing me. It is going to harm our staff more than help us. I'm not saying to blow smoke when there isn't a fire, but let's be real, some people do aspects of their job and they are on fire. Secondly, he came downstairs in his starched Oxford, with the rigid, wrinkled fabric stretching and pulling so hard that the buttons are straining to stay locked in their holes across his gut, to kick us all in the ego and morale. Each word in his statement beating in, 'Don't fight, don't get up. Don't even bother to strive for a five. You're not a five, you won't be awarded a five. You're not even a four.' That was the least motivational and absolute opposite of team building speech I've ever been forced to attend. 

I'm here to say, I'm not a three. I'm an 11 damn-it! I won't continue to be held to the mediocrity of a three. But, I will definitely need a leader that sees the value of their staff, not just envisioning us as warm bodies meeting position adequacy. 

Living With Your Parents After 30

I swear to Hip Hop Jesus that coming back to live with my parents is going to "kilt me dead!"

I've been up since before 7am, something I don't even do for work. Although I hear their morning noises, water running, shuffling of dishes, vegetables being chopped, it's been silent all morning, not like The Silver Fox's normal marching band routine. They even leave for an hour, while I'm studying.

However, as I am preparing to get on the phone for this interview, a homework assignment, the marching band begins.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhooooooooooohhhhhhhhahw!" The Silver Fox howls at my Dad outside who is weed whacking.

She turns on the Motown/Doo-Wop music channel loud enough so that she can hear it throughout the house as she dusts. "It's in his kiss..." She sings outside my bedroom door.

The clock is counting down closer to 10 when I have scheduled this call.

She's quiet. Just like a child, that's usually a bad thing.

Then I hear it. The wheels are squeaking as they rotate on the hardwood floors. The joints of the machine creak. The cords, still wound in a circle, but unraveled from the machine lands on the floor with a thank-type noise. It's not a thud.

The plug is inserted in the wall, the engine revs and she is howling with the vacuum.

It's 10 o'clock. The vacuum is running, like a drunk driver she is banging into furniture and walls, and she's singing with the music.

I gather my belongings together to sneak out to my office, aka my car. It's the only silent place I can go to conduct business. But with the eyes in the back of her head she sees me, "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have to conduct an interview for school."

It's the only acceptable answer I can give her to get me out if the house. And just like that I'm 17 again asking for permission to leave.

The Press

Last weekend I attended the Memphis Punk Fest. On Friday I was making my rounds and saying hello to all of the familiar faces. One of the musicians I know introduced me to his new bandmate, "This is The Press, be nice to her."

No name, just "The Press, "which would be a fantastic nickname if I were a wrestler. But there I was standing in disbelief. I thought y'all were nice to me because I follow the Golden Rule and of course my charming personality and not to mention good looks.


Granny Panties

Look y'all, I've been real distracted this week and I've neglected to do my laundry. But if this last pair of granny panties (before I have to only wear the sexy ones) slides off my hips and halfway down my thighs one more damn time I'm going to step straight out of them and keep walking.

#damnthosesomebigpanties #didyouloseyourdrawers


Earlier this week I had a hunk of skin removed from my body leaving raw meat in its place. I guess it's true what Bridget Jones says about single women over 30, "underneath my clothes, my entire body is covered in scales"

This morning I came out of the shower and I asked The Silver Fox if she would please apply the bandage to that spot. I can see it in the mirror, I just can't shift my body parts and reach it with my T-Rex arms all at the same time.

I hand her the prepared Band-Aid. She cannot see the hole on my body that reveals the raw meat. When she finally sees it she wastes no time in applying the Band-Aid. She's not gentle as you might expect from her experience and years of mothering. I imagined we would have a tv commercial moment, she'd gently smooth on the Band-Aid and probably say something like, "You should probably get this one looked at too." Nope. She slaps the Band-Aid on like it's a price tag. But it won't lay smoothly across my body so she keeps slapping it. Then she wants to rip it off to start over! I don't quite think she grabs the concept of needing a Band-Aid as a protection for an open wound.


Sunday Panties

June 9

This morning as I was getting dressed I put my fingernail straight through the fabric of my panties. I wore 'em anyway in the thoughts that I can throw them away after wearing them.#disposablelaundry

As I'm making my hour long commute to work, this is exactly how my thought process played out as I remembered, "Shit! I've got a dermatology appointment today that will have me in a paper gown. He'll see my tattered panties. Oh well, fuck it.! Last week I had a nip slip in front of him. I'm sure he can handle some Sunday panties."

#scandalousbehaviour #imapantyhobo#nosuchthingastmi

National Best Friend Day

It's National Best Friend Day, I'd be remiss if I didn't give a shout-out to my Bitches.


This is Rock'n'Roll

The car is weighted down and loaded
with gear. The drummer is stretched out over the entire benchseat. His feet are filthy. He's sleeping in the parking lot before his next gig. This is the side of Rock'n'Roll you don't often see.#mprfest3 #memphisfamous #fucktylermiller #punkrockmusic

Reflection Upon 19 Years

Last Sunday morning I woke up and realized it was the 19th anniversary of graduating from high school. I scan FB to look at my classmates and acquaintances. Everyone has kids, is having babies, getting engaged, getting Botox, or getting married. I've never been married, don't have children, moved back in with my parents, work 7 days a week, and go out to photograph every weekend by myself. I've never been lonelier in my life. I better hatch a Romy and Michele scheme for this shit.

Friday, May 1, 2015

A Wedding Story

This week one of my friends shared with me the story of how she got married. I enjoy this story so much, I let her tell me every time she feels like sharing. 

We knew each other since we were in middle school and high school. He used to run with my brother, but we were best friends. We dated but moved on and lost touch. I had kids. He had kids. But, we found each other again a few years ago. It felt exactly the same from all those years ago. And I knew, all those years of being with the wrong person and not being interested in anyone but being happy by myself and he changed it like this is what it's supposed to be like. 

We woke up one morning. I didn't know I was getting married, but it was my wedding day. He sat up in bed and said, "I can't wait any longer to be your husband. I want you to be my wife. I can't, won't, let you get away again. Will you marry me?"

I shook my head yes, because I thought about it, you know because I never wanted to be married to my kids father but to him I could see it, "Yeah, I'll marry you." She smiles sweetly and blushes over a topic so intimate.

"Good. Call in sick to work. I'm going to marry you today. I can't wait."

So, we got dressed, just in blue jeans and t-shirts, nothing extraordinary. I called in sick to work and I found myself married to him that day. 

What's your story?

Walmart, Raleigh, TN

First of all, I understand this is completely my fault for even stepping foot in the Walmart in Raleigh. But I'm having issues with my tire and that's the most convenient Walmart to go to as I pass it every day to and from work. 

Let me first tell you that I have a hundred percent warranty on my tires. Somehow last week I managed to run over a nail it curved around in a U-shaped inside my tire and popped back out. The problem is it's too close to the tire wall to repair it. So they had to order a new tire on Tuesday. I've been refilling my tire with air every day this week and calling Walmart to see if my new tire has arrived. 

Today I call and Mr. George answers the phone. He tells me that the computer says the tires here but he has too many customers so call him back in a half an hour to give him time to check for the tire to put his hands on it. I give them 50 minutes before I call back. Nobody answers the phone it goes to the operator. She text me back through the tires again it rings continuously until it goes back to her. The operator picks up the phone again and ask where I need to go and I said the tire department she puts me on hold and never sends me back through. 

I'm already a tad irritated but I understand it's May first everybody got new EBT cards, checks came in, Social Security came in... so now everybody with new money has the means to get their issues taken care of - I completely understand that. 

Mr. George behind the counter is trying the best you can even though he moves slowly. They have my tire, he takes my keys, we get situated there are five people in front of me. Cool. I sit in the waiting area and make friends with the other ladies that are sitting there playing candy crush. 

Yes I'm that person that talks to strangers that are trying to block out the world. Some lady even offers me her little, not listening, bad baby. We tight back there. 

They call my name and call me back into the shop saying there's a problem. They ordered the wrong tire for my car. Still I'm cool with this.  Let's get this corrected, order the right tire, and put it on my car. 

Naturally, by this time I've spent hours spanning two evenings up in the Raleigh Walmart. I am very calm. I ask Mr. George and Jerry the Customer Service Manager, who are both standing behind the counter, "Is there anything y'all can do about getting me a discount for this tire considering the inconvenience I've had to endure?"

Neither one of them answer me. I know I just spoke out loud. I know they could hear me because they both make eye contact with me.  Still no answer. 

Jerry the Customer Service Manager turns out from behind the counter and starts walking away from the tire department. 

Y'all my calm is gone!

"What? You don't speak to people when they talk to you?"

The other men, customers, around the counter take a collective step backwards to disappear into the wall.

Jerry the Customer Service Manager stops dead in his tracks, turns back and looks at me like 'who da fuk you talkin' to?' I return the look. 

He responds, "I don't do that? I'm just a Customer Service Manager.
You need a manager."

"I don't know this. I'm a customer, your tag says customer service manager." I stopped myself from saying, 'manage some customer service.'

Jerry the Customer Service Manager turns his head. Makes eye contact with a male customer. Looks back at me and rolls his eyes. He starts walking away. He looks at that male customer again and says something about me as he skitters off down the isle. 


I look at the three closest men including the customer he said it to after he smirked. Their ears must be broken because they all said, "I don't know. I don't know what he said."

I look at Mr. George, "Call the store manager, I need to speak to the store manager."

Jessica the Assistant Manager eventually arrives and takes care of it. She seems to be a Walmart Princess Fairy Angel. I will see. 

Still, I feel this could have been avoided if I had not gone to this Raleigh Walmart. 

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Throwback Thursday

#tbt #siblingwars 

"Hey, I bet you can't push me off this bed while I'm jumping!" 

Jump! Jump! 

On the third jump I lunge with my arms straight out and land a solid push directly into his stomach which sends Trey flying across the bedroom directly into the 90 degree corner jutting out to form the wall for the closet. He landed with a thud against the wall and rolled into the closet. That is usually the sort of noise that sends parents running towards the commotion, but not my parents. Trey touched the back of his head and came back with blood on his hand. He began to cry. That is when my parents came into our shared bedroom. 

The Silver Fox wants to know, "What happened?" 

"I pushed him off the bed while he was jumping. He told me to try to push him off." 

"You know better than to dare your sister to do anything. She's going to do it!And you're not supposed to be jumping on the bed!" 

So, Trey got in trouble and he had to get stitches. Since then, we keep the dares to a minimum. 

Friday, March 27, 2015

The Silver Fox's New Clothes

I hear the The Silver Fox in the kitchen after coming home from work. I wobble in there holding the side of my head that feels like it is collapsing from a sinus headache. Her back is to me. The entire back of her shirt is completely see-through!! 

"Mom! You're getting slutty today!"

"No! Jasmine came up to me at work  and said my shirt was sheer and I told her, 'Don't you give me that! My shirt is light weight but it's completely solid!' Now you're telling me it's sheer too."

"Mom, I can see your bra right through your shirt!"

"Paul, is my shirt see-through?"

He's busying himself loading stuffed peppers into Tupperware for next week's sack lunches and gives his standard, "Ehhh-eh ehhh." Which means, anything from 'I'm not paying attention' to 'I don't know about fashion,' or 'It's just how it is, I thought that's how you wanted it,' you know the safe answer. 

"Mom, that poor Jasmine is probably thinking you're a crazy old bat that doesn't even know what you're wearing! 

"Oh well."

"Next thing you know your employees are going to think they can wear sheer clothing to work too. Go stand in the light so I can take your picture."

She poses, "Let me see it!" she demands. "Oh well. It's not that bad.You can delete that picture any time now. I still say it's not that bad."

It's funny how with all of this laughter my headache and prolapsed cranium has disapated. But, I still say, The Silver Fox in her Emperors New Clothes is going to have that Christian store looking like a dance club on Saturday night! Eww-op! Eww-op! 

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The Full Monty

Moving back into my parents house at this age has some real advantages. Like when I come home late they always leave a light on for me. Or this morning when I was running late for work and ran through the kitchen to find that my lunch was already made. Or this evening when I came home from work and class to find that dinner was left warming for me. That is all so very cool and appreciated.

I fixed myself a plate of crockpot roast beef and sit down at the kitchen table to eat supper. The Silver Fox wakes up from her nap and moseys into sit at the kitchen table. While she and I are talking, Real Life Superman comes into the kitchen and slides into a chair. All of a sudden he stands up, revealing that he is only wearing tidy whiteys. He pulls those jokers up like Ed Grimly-style revealing the Full Monty and disappears into the garage looking for a toothpick. I look at The Silver Fox. She looks at me. We burst out laughing. Then I say, "I didn't know I was going to get dinner and a show."

"Well, if you weren't here he'd probably just be buck naked."

Moving back in with my parents has some real advantages, others are just eye-opening experiences that no child should endure.  

Monday, March 16, 2015

Fancy Wrapping

Last week, when Max was in town, it also happened to be his older brother Allister's birthday. Auntie Averill hates wrapping presents. I'm the person that throws a birthday gift in any old recycled gift bag, no matter the decoration or holiday on the bag. If your gift is on-time and wrapped it is a miracle! 

Last week I took Allister's birthday gift out to my parent's house because The Silver Fox offered to wrap it and deliver it to the birthday party. Yes!! 

The Silver Fox had Max wrap the gift as one of their activities to occupy this busy little four year old's time. Max picked out the color of the wrapping paper. Max determined how much paper to use. Max taped the paper. It's not bad for four years old. When it was all done TSF asked Max if they should include a bow. Max, of course was ecstatic to add a red bow. He took off the protective paper and had that bow slapped on the gift before she knew it. At this point he turns to her and says, "I think Al likes all the colors."

 Of course, as a good Gran will do, she let Max put as many bows as he wanted to decorate Allister's 11th birthday gift. 

Max was unbelievably proud of his new wrapping skills and delighted to show them off at the birthday party. 

Happy birthday Allister! 

Max is slapping on the bows, photo courtesy of Real Life Superman. 

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Snow Cream

Some times I miss those winter days of going to high school in West Virginia. You know with real snow and actually getting snowed in. Since Memphis was hit by an ice and snow storm last night, work was cancelled today. It's a Snow Day!!! 
Our front yard and the neighbor's house. It's real snow!

Memphis has real snow. That means Snow Cream and reminiscing of those snowed in slumber parties with one of my high school BFF! 

I have Wookie fur on my boots! No Wookie's were actually harmed in the making of these boots.

Vintage Tupperware is used as the vehicle to capture snow.
This morning one of my Besties, Hugh, made Snow Cream and shared the recipe. I immediately ran outside to collect my snow! 
What do you know? It only takes five minutes at the most to make, serve, and devour the Snow Cream. It's delicious!! 

Here is Hugh's recipe: 

4 cups of snow, avoid the yellow stuff
1 cup of milk
1 tsp of vanilla extract
1/4 cup of sugar

Hugh says if you would rather have Snow Cream that tastes more like commercial ice cream substitute the cup of milk and 1/4 cup of sugar for a cup of sweetened condensed milk. 

Stir it up well and enjoy! We sure did! 
Only one serving of Snow Cream left!
Thank you Hugh! 

Now, to get back to the important business of Snow Day! 

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Storms and Rainbows

I'm having a really difficult day working in a Day Job that makes me feel creatively underutilized, unappreciated, and trapped. This morning on my way up the stairwell to deliver a pile of error entries to an upstairs department a coworker from yet another department stops me. 

She compliments my Facebook posts and tells me, "I live for your posts. Along with my dogs they are the highlight of my day. I live for them. You have a real talent with words and writing that needs to be cultivated."

Wow, y'all! She made me tear up. I could wallow in self-pity, anger, hopelessness, and disappointment by telling you all the crap I'm trudging through, just like everyone else. But, look at that, God showed me a rainbow during the storm. 

Thank you, Coworker. I needed that more than you know. 

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Easy Girls

In preparation for my day date with The Silver Fox this afternoon I got up early this morning to color my hair. I don't need her telling me my edges are sparkly. 

I bought this box of hair color that was supposed to color my hair fire engine red.

Instead, it turned my hair black with a red overcast. 

We get in the car and she says, "You know I don't like your hair so dark. It's black. When I was young it was the easy girls that wore their hair so dark. It reminds me of the easy girls."

Thanks Mom. 

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Dinner Plus

Today is a day that will live in infamy!! 

Maverick and Phaedra collaborated on planning and making supper without any help from me. The Dinner Calendar only had her name on it and a blank where the dinner plans go. 

It's a miracle! A God-damned miracle!!! 

What did we eat? Cheesy Tuna Mac with a side item or as I like to refer to it, desert. For my dining pleasure, if you so please, everyone is allotted one Reece's Peanut Butter Egg. 

I know what you're thinking, "but Averill, you're over 30. If you eat chocolate this late you'll never get a restful night's sleep."

Shut up and keep your comments to yourself!! Don't bring us down. The Little Rottens were beaming with absolute pride over their meal planning. I am too! 

It's dinner and dessert! 

To think I thought this day would never come!