Brooklyn Girl Publishing

I am a full time college student.

This is one of the things I've been pushing for for a long time.

So here I am. A college student again. After fifteen years.

School is still the same. You have to go to the registrar before you do this, the dean before you do that, and an advisor before you even think about asking either of them anything. However a few things have changed.

This time, I give a damn.

I think back to my college days and how many of the days in class were a blur. No, it wasn't from smoking weed. We only did that on the weekend. Correction, I only did that on the (occasional) weekend. We, is another story. The blur was because the class was there to fill my requirements to get a degree. That was it. I had no focus, no goal ahead of me, no plans for the future. Going to class - occasionally - was a way for me to keep my 2.0 GPA which allowed me to be away from home and have fun with my friends.

This time, I need to see the return on my investment. I'm finna graduate Something Cum Laude...

This time, when my teacher was two minutes late, I wasn't hoping class would be canceled. I was the only one who had the side-eye going.

This time, in a class filled with 18 to 20 year olds, I am old enough to be the mama. Not the mama!

This time, I'm not afraid to give the wrong answer, if it means the teacher is going to explain HOW to get the right answer.

BUT YESTERDAY...

when I gave the wrong answer, I wondered if I looked EXTRA wrong because I'm older and SHOULD know the answer. I sat in class wearing slacks, a sweater and three year old boots that have been reheeled, resoled, and recycled, wanting to trade them in for cute new scrunchy boots and jeans - worn in the 30+ way, of course. But I have a budget to stick with. Damned budget...I want to be down.

After I was accepted, I told anyone who would listen; I even posted it on FB! I had a smile on my face that only slid downward when I looked at the bill.  

Ecstatic was an understatement.

So why, when I am in the midst of doing that thing I wanted so badly, am I doubting myself? What the #%& made me go back to school? Why am I doing this? I'm too old. I have work and other responsibilities. I'm going to be in debt. And to top it off, I can't be (as) fresh to death. I know, shallow, but so what. We all want to look good. These are just some of the ridiculous thoughts that tangoed about in my brain.

The truth is that funky thing called fear is always trying to get in. The worst part, is it plays on the very things we don't say out loud: that we don't always get it; that we DO care how we are perceived; that getting older is somewhat horrifying when we are looking at youth on a regular basis, remembering how our breasts used to be perky(er), too. 

Fear temporarily erases all the life moments that matter: the cute boys we've kissed (and subsequently learned not to kiss - too often...); the focus we've gained because we know how precious time is; and the confidence we've gained from knowing just who exactly we are; things that the younguns are just experiencing, while we've been there and done that.

It took a little while to get over it. And I thank my friends and the other adult students that chimed in to say they understood. 

And this morning the youngster in my class who I remember from my night class as the transfer from Delaware State called me by name to ask me my thoughts on class. She said, she likes being with older students because they are more focused. Ha.

This time, I really am.

May your new year be full of sparkle and light!

I've been away, but I haven't been away if you get what I mean.

I have four chapters to go on Confessions of a Recovering Slacker, a Dream Team of talent working with me, great feedback regarding the new baby (book) and new blog.

Check me out at my other digs!

www.slackerconfessions.wordpress.com

for family that enjoys collard greens so much that they finished them...but bought the ingredients so I can make more? who. does. that???

for the brother in law who called to remind me about the first sweet potato pie that 'almost gave the family diabetes'.

for his hater of the year wife that co-signed and added to the list of reasons why she'll be written out of my will in my senior years.

for my dad's acknowledgement that Thanksgiving dinner was like when my grandmother was alive.

for spanx that held it all together afterward.

for the best friend that indulged me in Midnight Christmas shopping though she had the itis and slept for half the way. She treated me to dunkin donuts and vanilla chai latte. I treated her to a picture of her sleeping with her mouth open. *chuckling*

for Christmas shopping that was supposed to be for the family...but ended up stocking my closet...don't judge me. just love me.

for one small accomplishment making room for another.

for God's grace.

for life being just so good sometimes that I forget the dumb stuff that weighs me down.

I have writer's block again. I wonder if this is what impotent men feel like. *sigh*

Except they have Via.gra and Cia.lis to get their groove back.

How come potential vision loss, stroke, loss of equilibrium and slurred speech don't deter men from taking it? Because all of those combined are a lesser evil than not getting it up, I suppose?

Men. *sigh again* 

My nephew called me TiTi and told my sister he wanted 'to watch Yardigans'. I am so excited. He is autistic and is really making huge strides with repetition and vocabulary. 

I hope to see him (and my niece Chunky Butt) for Christmas.

Remember when you'd go to bed early, but try to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to see Santa???

Curiosity killed Santa. Not the cat.

I love Christmas.

Do you think Mary would have taken Joseph on Maury to let him know that he is NOT the father?

2009 Commercial Remix. If a man you've never met before suddenly gave you flowers, it's stalking!

What did we call stalking before it was called stalking?

You know why there was never a Monopoly game show? Because we'd have to watch for twenty four hours.

The days are too short during the winter. And the nights are long.

I need a hug that says I love you and appreciate you. Not a hug where the hands start wandering.

The last time I prayed to God about a husband and children, this guy I used to date called me and was talking about marriage and children. This would have been fine, except I'm not checking for Dude.

I didn't pray about it again for a little while.

I know He knows best...but I'ma let Him shuffle the deck or get me right or something.

Happy Tuesday!