Straight Outta Compton

The fact that I didn’t crave sugar yesterday is a sign I’m slowly coming to terms with having to go through with this weekend’s road trip (unless a sudden rain storm yet appears) – though I was tempted by a facebook friend’s posting of homemade cashew brittle to the point where I looked up the recipe with the idea in mind of making my own.

The recipe looked like way too much trouble for someone like me, who doesn’t enjoy cooking all that much, so I passed and got through the day without a sugar product – even passing up the See’s Candy Store, within walking distance of the nail salon I visited yesterday.

Glad I am that’s over – the squashing down of uncomfortable emotions with sugar, but now begins the detox process all over again.

In examining WHY the switch from looking forward to the trip to dreading it, I’m now thinking … how bad can it be?

A small get together has turned into a huge party, but I can’t be the only one there who won’t fit in because she doesn’t drink, can’t dance (unless it’s country line dancing), has to be careful what she eats, and doesn’t like having a lot of children pawing all over her.

Besides, daughter and her partner will be in attendance. Her twin – my estranged daughter is not invited, having distanced those family members she claimed to “love” and “family is everything” by unleashing upon then that same vicious acid tongue that caused estrangement between she and her twin, between she and I.

My hotel is walking distance from her beachfront apartment but, unless the Universe has us bumping into each other on the street, there will be no reconciliation.

Not that I harbor ill feelings towards estranged daughter -- she's my baby and I'm always going to love her in spirit. It’s just that the last time she lied to and disrespected me was the last time I'd suffer in silence -- let her get away with it without an apology.

The fact that, in the six years since, she once/twice offered up a gesture other than an apology doesn’t cut it. She went too far, too deep that last time, and I won’t trust her with my time, my heart, not to repeat as she has so many times before, jeopardizing my peace of mind, sanity, financial well being until she reaches the level of consciousness where she can wake up and “see”, begin to accept responsibility for self, never to repeat and apologize.

So having got that off my chest and having come to terms with the road trip, I’m looking on tomorrow’s adventure as somewhat my Trip toBountiful experience.

I was born in Los Angeles, which makes of me a bonafide born angel, but I and my oldest brother, grew up in Compton -- yep, this bonafide angel, this redneck in a Black woman’s body is straight outta Compton, which is a hop skip and jump away from the hotel in Long Beach. Consequently, I’m thinking of checking out the house where sister and the other brothers were born, where I grew up, the elementary school we attended, the apartment a few miles away where I raised my children.

Here at the complex, this morning is bi-annual inspection day, where the smoke detector is checked, the a/c filter changed out. This afternoon is Movie Day – Christmas Vacation and tomorrow, unless I get that rain storm, I’m headed out.

See you when I return, with hopefully only good things to say.