Posted in Globfly

Globfly’s 34th-Month Angelversary

Posted a day late and a dollar short.🙃

Today marks Globfly’s 34th-month Angelversary—two years and ten months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, as the old saying goes, is so true with Globfly. I was one of the fortunate wives who never had to worry about my hubby having wandering eyes except when food was around. I used to tease him that food was “the other woman.” Well, he always included me with “the other woman” and introduced me to many yummy culinary treats that I would never have partaken in myself.

For this month’s Angelversary, I chose a Mini Loco Moco that he introduced to me from our favorite Hawaiian Drive-Inn. I’m a picky eater, but he got me liking this meal. It’s the only thing I’d order when we ate there. I haven’t had it in forever, so it seemed fitting to honor his memory with this meal today.

Globfly here’s to you, honey! I miss you every day more than words can say! ILYVVVVM 💜🖖👊

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Sunshine and Raindrops”

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, October 14, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

“In the Still of the Night” played in the background filling my thoughts with memories of all those nights I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. Closing my eyes meant giving my mind free rein to wander from one memory to the next, longing for my old life with my honey when sleepless nights meant rolling over and snuggling up in his gentle arms—a sure sleep inducer. Instead, I roll over to a box of MidNite sleep aid on the nightstand that eases me into sleep. It began as a friend I called upon after an hour or so of sleeplessness when I couldn’t ward off the gremlins in the dark of my mind that told me fables of all the disturbing things in my life now. MidNite has become my dearest friend, who I rely on nightly to avoid the gremlins.

It’s a vicious cycle. If you can’t sleep, you become more exhausted and less resistant to those gremlins, which means you’re most lightly not sleeping tonight. Some people wallow in the dark side, but I choose not to go there. I’d try anything, within healthy limits, that is, to get a good night’s sleep. Some nights are rougher than others. When trying as I may, I cannot chase out the gremlins. That’s when I discovered the Hallmark channel of family-friendly programming with feel-good endings. I replay scenes from my favorite movies, and most likely, I’d smile my way into sleep.

Something about the romance movies get me floating for days afterward. It’s a story someone made up, but imagining a couple in love is so endearing. It might be depressing to see others happy in love when we are alone, lonely, and have no one to love. It may make us long for raindrops falling from the sky to conveniently hide the tears streaking down our faces from the ache we feel inside. For me, however, oh, how these stories warm my heart like sunshine and help me make it through my days, and especially my nights. Being in love with the right person is the most beautiful act in the world as far as I’m concerned. I remember being newly in love. My honey and I held hands all the time. My family teased us for not letting go even while we were eating. Hey, that’s what new lovers do. You can’t separate them for anything.

As engaging as a movie goes, it doesn’t replace real life. It provides some comfort for a moment, but nothing replaces a soft touch, a gentle squeeze of a sensual embrace, or the whiff of his unique scent that flutters the butterflies in your stomach. Or heats your cheeks when you look into his eyes, and he smiles only for you. You miss each other when you’re apart, and your hugs last longer than any others. Mutual attractions do so much for healing. 

To move forward, we need something to look forward to, such as a new relationship, a new life, or a fresh start—some newness that lifts our self-esteem. The excitement of a new relationship changes your perspective by giving you something new to focus on. It revives your emotions and your passions, reminding you of who you are as a person. It gives you purpose to live again—to live a new life and permits you to leave your old life in a safe place, but in your past where it belongs. 

My honey and I never spoke about the “what if” one of us passes on. For me, it was denial. I didn’t want to think about that topic. In hindsight, I now wish we did. It would’ve made it a lot easier had I gotten his blessings to move on with someone else. Of course, our vows said, “Until death do us part.” I know many people who have remarried in widowhood. Yet, it felt like a betrayal to me for the longest time. I plan on being with my honey when I go to heaven, but then, how does that work if I have a new someone? Then, I learned that we wouldn’t be “a husband and a wife” in heaven, but instead, we will all be as one. Of course, God would keep it simple. It took a while for this to sink in. It’s fine with me now.

I’ve got so many hang-ups. That’s why I write the things I write. I’m working through all these processes and taking you along for the ride. I struggled with the idea of loving someone else other than my honey. That also feels like a betrayal. However, I’m learning that humans are capable of loving more than one person. We have humongous hearts that can love many in different ways. Knowing this is helping me to move on without losing any part of my honey while giving a part of my heart away to someone new. 

My honey was my sunshine, who would’ve done anything for my happiness. The feeling was mutual. My honey wore big shoes that were extremely hard to fill. Knowing that he always has my best interest at heart, I know that when the timing is right, he’ll miraculously make sure there will be someone special who can fit his shoes, even if not perfectly. After all, every day, there is sunshine, but each canvas is unique and beautiful. As I waltz through my life enjoying each Hallmark movie, I know that there will be light and dark days, and I will be okay as long as there is sunshine and raindrops.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“It Doesn’t Take Much to Lose the Trust”

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, October 7, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

When I think back to days not so long ago when I used to hand out my calling card with every contact information I had on it to strangers, I get the willies now. I was so trusting. Everything felt safe and uncomplicated. I remember my older sister asking me one day if I was giving out too much information to people, and I shrugged my shoulders and continued doing what I was doing. I wanted to live what I preached, and that was that I’m an open book. What you see is what you get. Lucky for me, I never ran into any problem people. 

Although people back then were more reclusive and tended towards their little clique, and that was it. Not a big deal. It wasn’t like I was hard up for friends. I have many cliques of my own anyway. I wanted to connect with and be friends with everybody, and that was pre-FB. I believe you can never have too many friends, that’s all.

I didn’t expect the different flavors of people I would recently meet that ended up challenging me in unexpected ways. One thing for sure I did not expect, and that was to lose trust in people. I’ve never been afraid of people before. One time, I was about to ask a street person home for thanksgiving. Thank God I couldn’t find him so that I couldn’t invite him. Later I learned he was a fugitive on the lam wanted by the US Marshalls—like in the movie. That’s another story for another day. My point is that I wasn’t afraid of people.

You don’t know what you don’t know until you know. That’s how we learn about life. Who would think that an old friend from high school would have you jumping out of your seat because he couldn’t keep his hands off you from across the table? You know, I love cuddling and hugs just as much as the next person, but I tell you, there is a time and place for everything. I don’t welcome being grabbed or touched, especially not by certain people. It baffles me to think that we’re all adults here and behaving like school kids. 

Yeah, we had a crush on each other back in high school, and our story was a lot like a movie where we lost touch, went our separate ways, and he found me on FB one day. Now we’re both single, and he thinks it’s our second chance. It’s one-sided thinking. The feeling is not mutual, especially when he wants to skip the getting-to-know-each-other stage and take me on a road trip in his RV. I think not. I’ve never been and never will be that kind of girl. Here’s where I told him, “Hit the road, Jack, and don’t you come back no more!” After this incident, I lost trust, and I feared this guy. Luckily, he couldn’t come to my house because he never bothered to jot down my address from my Christmas card, and my older sister would be so pleased that I refused to give him my address when he asked for it.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was my stalker, who, unlike Hit-the-Road-Jack, who couldn’t care less about getting to know me, Stalker got into every nook and cranny of my space. Stalker came into my life soon after the incident with Jack, and I don’t know what it was, but I felt red flags from the get-go, and something inside me hesitated, so I did not give Stalker my contact info. Thank God for that! Initially, I wasn’t sure if it was nerves from the rawness of the Jack episode or what, but Stalker didn’t help. It was too much, too soon—both of them pushed me out of my comfort zone into areas that I did not want to go.

It’s been a challenging year where one friend told me I needed to change my venue for meeting people. I laughed. I know he meant well, but I wasn’t trying “to meet people.” These episodes happened to happen, and that was it. I’ve lived a pretty uneventful life with normal relationships. Then these episodes happened, making me question the purpose. They sent me on a journey that I never expected before, and maybe they will end up in my fiction stories—that’s the only place I plan to let these stories play out. 

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my older sister said. She’s right. I need to be wiser in what I share. These two guys didn’t know where I lived, but still, for a spin, they had me pretty scared that they might show up on my doorstep. I had nightmares of Stalker sitting outside in his car on my street watching me. Not a healthy way to live. Since then, I’ve redone my calling card with select contact information on it. 

The takeaway from these experiences taught me that it is good to give people the benefit of the doubt, but I shouldn’t be so quick to trust everybody because we need to earn trust. If trust isn’t solid, it doesn’t take much to lose the trust.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“The Day FB Went Dark”

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

What were you doing the day FB went dark? That’s the similar question everybody asked forever after the big earthquake that shook San Francisco in 1989. For me, I was sitting right here writing when I decided to go into FB and change my cover photo at just past 9 a.m. Only to receive a “failure to open the page” notice. Who would’ve thought FB was down? I figured it was on my end. I rebooted my modem, which didn’t help. So, I hard booted my MacBook, which also didn’t help. Oops, don’t tell me, my verbal posts caught up with FB administrators, and they threw me into FB prison! That was my first thought. I Messengered my buddy, Big Bro, at about 9:30 and asked if he was having trouble. That message looked weird and didn’t appear to get sent, so I texted him ten minutes later. He called and said he wasn’t having trouble, but he couldn’t open my page. Ugh. Yep, I knew it. I was tossed into FB prison. It was a big maybe. Another possibility was that my profile got corrupted somehow, which stressed me out more.

What if FB couldn’t restore my profile? I would have to open a new account. Ugh. All that history since 2008 in this one account—poof just like that. I began kicking myself for not having taken copies of all my photos and archived them nice and neatly as the FB memories do. FB spoiled me rotten, and it got me relying on and trusting it for these daily memories. I swore I’d begin collecting all the everyday memories into File Manager if I got back into my account. 

The second layer of panic—my list of friends! I’ve got 626 FB friends. How in the world am I going to recreate that friend list? I have no clue who the 626 friends are. That’s the stupid thing about FB that I dislike. It decides which 25 friends I get to interact with. I have a love/hate relationship with FB. If it comes to that, I will do the best I can to recreate my list. The good news is that if you’ve been active in my FB world, I’ll know you and send you a friend request. As for the others who never make an appearance, I’m sorry, but I might not know who you are to send you a friend request. I don’t like losing people, so know that it wouldn’t be on purpose.

A moment later, Big Bro called, saying that it wasn’t just me. It looked like it was a FB problem. Phew! What a huge relief! I could live with that. After we hung up, I googled for news, and that’s when I learned about the system-wide lockout between FB, Instagram, Messenger, and What’s App! That was awful news, but it felt good knowing I wasn’t in FB prison. Self-center, I know, but hey, I can’t worry about everybody else, and someone has to worry about me, so I guess I’m the best candidate for the job. 

Knowing that there was nothing I could do with FB, I resolved to get as productive as possible in my real-world before FB came back online. Isn’t it hilarious how much we rely on FB? It’s absurd if you think about it. FB has become such a big deal in my life that it feels like I’m reporting in to work each day. When I was a moderator for a FB group, it felt like reporting to work, except it wasn’t a seven-day workweek with a job. I’m slowly catching my breath now that I recently quit that role.

I honestly have a love/hate relationship with FB. FB has been a Godsend, especially during the isolation period of the pandemic. I admit FB has seen me through the dark times after my hubby’s demise. I am grateful for all of my daily FB connections that eradicated my aloneness. However, on the same token, when you’re in your writing zone, FB can be a big pain in the butt with all the alert notifications coming through all day and all night long. Not only FB but Messenger, well text, too, for that matter, especially group chats—those are the most distracting. I’ve yet to learn how to turn off alerts without acquiring yet another app that turns everything off for me. I’ve gotten into the habit of ignoring the alerts during my “zone time,” but I get dozens of alerts when I return to FB, which is overwhelming. Yes, it’s wonderful having all those interactions, but let’s say, every good thing has a downside. 

The day FB was down, I have to say that I didn’t miss it at all. It was super quiet, though, and for one day, that was great, but I know I wouldn’t want that much quiet every single day. I would miss my FB buddies and my favorite groups and all the lovely interactions I have with my peeps. Also, I would die if I had no place to share my skyscape photos and fun times. But, for the one day, I loved feeling like I was living my life in the flesh again. Many people posted funnies after FB came back online about living in the real world again, but it’s so true what a difference it made not having FB. I got a lot done without guilt. See, with FB, especially when I was moderator, I felt guilty if I stayed out of FB longer than an hour. I conditioned myself to be a good team player, just like on the job, and for this one day, it felt wonderful and freeing and guiltless to live my life again. I usually found myself constantly checking for FB alerts. Crazy, right? It’s that love/hate thing I mentioned. It just became something I habitually do. I do it because if I check more often, there are fewer alerts, which is less overwhelming to catch up on than a dozen or more alerts at a time. 

I wouldn’t ever want FB to be down again. I would much rather decide to quit FB than for it to lock me out. However, taking a day off from FB without missing anything was like a Hallmark movie where we got to experience our life without FB in it for a day. I regained access to FB just after 3 p.m., but my East Coast and England peeps didn’t get their FB back until hours later. The lesson I learned from the FB Day-off was that I liked living my real life without distractions, but I don’t want to lose everything and everyone from my FB world. I am super grateful that I didn’t lose my FB account, and now that I’ve had a taste of life pre-FB, I can make accommodations to co-exist in both worlds and make it work for me. I don’t think I would’ve arrived at this positive conclusion had I not experienced life without FB in it. For me, it was a blessing in disguise the day FB went dark.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“I Can Keep a Secret, Can you?”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, October 4, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

“I’ve got a secret. I can’t tell you. I’ve got a secret. I can’t tell you.” Do you remember singing that little song as a kid in elementary school? I swear that’s how I feel right now. As a grown-up, I have never felt this excited about any secret before. Well, maybe I have, but I don’t remember. It’s awful, people! Ugh. I’m dying here! I feel like I have to tell someone, or I’m going to burst! 

When hubby was here, he was my go-to person. We had no secrets from each other. When I’m sworn to secrecy, I usually ask if I could tell hubby. Often, it was affirmative. It was neat sharing with hubby. He wasn’t a gossiper, so it was a win-win. I don’t know. I think it was mainly the satisfaction of sharing with him more than telling the secret. On the rare occasion when it was negative, then so be it. Hubby wasn’t privy to the secret. Luckily, those few times, the secret wasn’t a biggie. 

At this moment, I don’t have hubby to turn to, and this is a secret that I positively could have shared with him. Isn’t that a killer? Have you ever been in this position before? How did you handle it? Never mind, I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter how you handled it because I was sworn to secrecy, so there are no alternatives here.

I’m sure all of you at one time or another had some great news that you were dying to share, but it restricted you from doing so for whatever reason. Maybe you had to wait until after some announcement took place before you could reveal what you know. That was usually the reason, like the big boss announcing the promotion or speaking with someone involved first. Or the couple is announcing their engagement to the family first. Or revealing the new baby or what have you. Or a new venture about to take off, or what every writer dreams of—a publication contract. Maybe there’s a new man or woman in your life that you’re dying to spill. Or perhaps you hit the jackpot but can’t tell anyone anything until the winner is confirmed. 

I don’t know. All I know is that these secrets are time-specific. Maybe this is one of those. Maybe after things played out, I’ll be released from the secret, then I could scream to anyone who would listen. Hilarious. I could see it now. By then, it would be old news, and nobody would care because everybody already knows. But at this moment, for moi, it is like the most exciting news I’ve heard in a long time, and ugh, I can’t tell anyone!

I am SO happy about it. It’s exhilarating. I’m beaming from ear to ear. I’m floating and can’t wait to see how it all plays out. Can you see why it’s killing me that I can’t tell you? I’m doing the next best thing—write about it, and that’s how I’m handling this. It gives me a little satisfaction. Even though it kills me, I can keep a secret, can you?

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Less of Me and More of You”

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Last week, I wrote about the cool guy that woke up the insecure little school girl in me that was no fun to have around. Boy, I couldn’t wait to send her back to the past where she belonged. I did not enjoy her visit, and I sure hope she’ll never visit me again, and that would be too soon. However, she was a part of who I am. Like it or not, it is what it is. I might be a completely different person today had she not been me. Who knows, had I been a different person, I might have turned out to be a big jerk that nobody likes today. For that reason, I am grateful for who I was, even if I didn’t like that old me.

I’ve learned so much about myself since her visit. For starters, we all have skeletons hanging in the closet, and I don’t mean those we decorate the front porch with on Halloween. The skeletons I’m referring to, we leave in the dark corner of the closet cobwebbed over, ignored, and hopefully, forgotten. Until something triggers us to open that closet door and dust off the cobwebs, something causes us to take out that skeleton, which is bound to happen. We’d have to face our old selves as awkwardly, uncomfortably, and painfully so. It’s only a matter of time.

Having done that recently, I survived the encounter as traumatizing as it initially was. As I dusted off the cobwebs, I stared in my mind’s eye and saw the scared little girl I was who wanted so badly to be loved for who she was, which was a tall order since she didn’t love herself. How could she when her mother kept telling her she was good for nothing? She could never imagine someone loving her. Her mother didn’t, so why should she? Why should she even like herself when it seemed like nobody did? Kids at school could be so mean to each other. I’m sure I wasn’t alone in that thinking. It’s awful the torture that kids do to each other and themselves by spewing negatives and tearing down each other’s psyches. I can see how some kids grow up all messed up and do not survive the growing pains.

Most of us managed to grow up okay, scar tissues and all. And that was the biggest lesson I learned from this incident that who we were as kids do not guarantee the people we become as adults. As kids, our appearance was everything. Everybody strived to look like everybody else and do whatever it took to be cool, but inside, we were all the same. That’s the funny part, but we didn’t know it then. 

I’ve gotten to know my cool guy better, and wow, he truly is a cool guy—nothing like the cool guys of my youth who only looked the part. My cool guy is a genuinely good person who happens to be warm, loving, and full of kindness—that’s it—that’s what made him cool. His looking the part was a bonus. As we got to know each other better, he figuratively held my hand and escorted the insecure little girl back to the past where she belonged with his reassuring words, and he has since become an amazing buddy of mine. 

My cool guy takes his time to hear my words, and when we’re together, I am his priority. I don’t feel rushed. From him, I learned that that is the key to live by—focus on the person you’re with and honestly give them your attention as if they are the most important person in the world. Everybody wants to feel special, and that’s how Brian, my cool guy makes me feel—growing up would’ve been a breeze if I had been more like him as I concentrated on others instead of internalizing my insecurities. It doesn’t take much effort, but an ounce goes a long way when we exercise the golden rule of less of me and more of you.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“A Note to My Stalker”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, September 27, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

This is a note to my stalker, and you know who you are. I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again, but you wouldn’t leave well enough alone, so here I am, giving you a piece of my mind. I don’t get it. Why can’t you move on? Why can’t you get it through your head that I don’t want anything to do with you? Why did you come back into the Doo Wop group and tap “like” on my songs? What purpose does that serve? Did you think that you could sneak back in, and everything would be okay? Let me tell you, there’s too much damage done, and it will never be the way it was. Did you know that seeing your name made me cringe? I’m sure that wasn’t the emotional response you expected. Then again, I don’t think you care what my reaction might be. It’s always been all about you. 

I unfriended you as an act of kindness because I realized staying friends with you and working with you to overcome your obsession gave you the false hope that there might be a future for us. We could’ve been friends, but you ruined that when you crossed the line—a line that I made crystal clear I would never walk with you. You kept insisting you understood and that we were nothing more than “just friends,” and you assured me that you weren’t stalking me, yet your actions told me otherwise. 

The more I tried to work with you to stay friends and coexist amicably online, the more overwhelmed I became because I couldn’t help you. I’ve never known a stalker before, so I tried to help you as if you were a normal person, which you are not. I wanted to believe there was hope for you because you have many FB friends who think you’re a nice guy. Before I got to know the real you, I thought so, too. I wanted to believe that there is a genuinely good guy inside you, and all you have to do is overcome your demons. Everybody deserves a second chance. Having said that, you already blew many second chances with me, but I still want to believe there is hope for you, just not in my world. 

Had you stayed out of my life and allowed me peace, you could’ve gotten away with your stalking. I wouldn’t have done or said anything to anybody because I was so grateful to be rid of you. But you couldn’t stay away. You had to touch my songs in Doo Wop! In hindsight, I’m glad you did because seeing your name made my skin crawl and propelled me into action. Especially since I learned that you have a history of stalking tendencies, I am not your first, and I’m sure I won’t be your last, but it has to end now. I can’t prevent you from stalking someone else, but I’m not going to ignore what I know either. Staying quiet only allows you to continue lurking and preying on unsuspecting victims. However, for your own good, I sure hope you’ll heed my advice and get yourself professional help before you end up in the slammer or worst. 

Stalking is wrong. You must know that! You may think it’s love, but any unwarranted affection is a crime. You have got to know that. If nothing else, think about the consequences of your family finding out this side of you. I know you care about your reputation, and that’s why you didn’t want me to quit Doo Wop in fear that the outcome would ruin your reputation. It’s not too late to make things right. You’re not at the point of no return…yet. But you have to stop what you’re doing and make that call to get professional help, pronto!

In the meantime, do me a favor, go away. Don’t show your face or name in my world again. Let me un-know your name. I don’t ever want anything to do with you. If I see your name anywhere in my world, I will publicly name you in every group you belong to that you are my stalker. I don’t want to do this, but if that’s what it takes for you to take me seriously, then so be it. I’ve always tried to be kind to you, more than you deserve, but you took me for a pushover. Label me whatever you like, but know that I warned you here in a note to my stalker.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Nothing Ever Happens”

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, September 23, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

Nothing ever happens in San Bruno until it does. I lived in San Bruno for over a decade, and seriously, nothing ever happened in that bedroom community. Back then, there weren’t even many walkers out on the sidewalks. People traveled in cars or buses, getting from point A to B tending to their business. In recent years, they added the crosswalk signal lights activated only where a person crosses the street for the sporadic few crossers on El Camino Real. They do get used on rare occasions—but nothing like the busy crosswalks in the city. 

One afternoon in the heat of the pandemic, I drove along El Camino as I usually do when I was avoiding the freeway. This particular day, a slew of people lined up waiting to file into a store on El Camino caught my attention. I don’t recall seeing anyone walking on those sidewalks, let alone going in or out of a store. Yet, there was a long line of people single filed inching into some shop. I glanced at the store’s name out of curiosity, and the word “guns” caught my eye. Guns? There’s a gun shop in San Bruno? Since when? I wasn’t surprised about the gun purchases since guns were making the daily news, but San Bruno surprised me. The fascination was short-lived. Thank God. It felt nerve-racking thinking about more guns in civilian hands with all the protests and riots circling the towns.

I dropped off my car for a smog check at a garage in San Bruno earlier this morning. Since it was such a lovely day, sitting outside the library courtyard sounded like a delightful place to get some writing done while I waited. I walked on El Camino from Kains towards Angus, heading to the library, when an unsteady medium-size Caucasian man with a rat’s nest of mousy blond dreadlocks and wearing a green lumberjack shirt came towards me. He danced around a bit, possibly intoxicated as he had trouble smoking his cigarette—but I couldn’t smell any alcohol. He was loud and talking to me from a distance. I considered my options to evade him. El Camino’s blocks are long, the sidewalks are narrow, and the streets are wide with three lanes of traffic on both sides going opposite directions, leaving me no alternative but to walk by him.

I ignored him as I got closer to him, hoping he wouldn’t try to grab me. We were that physically close. Thank God. He didn’t try anything. He rattled on, and for a moment, he stopped moving, stared at me, and waited for me to answer his question, “Hey, you want to come to my birthday party?” At that point, I relaxed and laughed, realizing he was harmless. I giggled, thanked him, declined, and wished him a happy birthday. I began moving away as he tried to change my mind, but he didn’t follow me. I left him exercising his lungs with gibberish since I stopped listening.

I located a nice secluded bench in the courtyard, settled in on my MacBook, and began writing. It was lovely today. The air was fresh and soft with a hint of a light breeze and felt warmer than the 63 degrees shown on my car’s display earlier. This location was a perfect choice not to be bothered. A little while later, two police officers, one Caucasian and the other Asian, broke my concentration. My first thought was that they were moving me along because loiterers were prohibited or something. I was wrong. Instead, they asked me if I noticed any loud yelling and screaming, which I didn’t, and that was my answer. I suddenly remembered the birthday guy and told the officers about him. The Caucasian officer did all the talking. He asked, “green shirt?” 

I answered affirmatively and added that he was down on El Camino near the bus stop. I’m a crackpot, so I said, “he invited me to his birthday party” for good measure. 

The officer asked, “Are you going?” He cracked this crackpot up. I laughed and told him no! He thanked me for my help, and they went on their way. As I said earlier, I was in a secluded spot. I couldn’t stop wondering why they singled me out. Light bulb! I got it. I was wearing a green camouflaged fatigue hoodie. (Don’t worry. I had purple on.) They were looking for a green shirt. This is how being in the wrong place at the wrong time wearing the wrong color clothes gets you in trouble. Lucky for me, it ended well. I don’t look like I might be a person of interest, but hey, I’ve seen the news and movies, for that matter, and some people aren’t as lucky. 

After all this, you probably think I’m smoking some funny stuff when I said nothing ever happens in San Bruno. Yeah, well, times have changed. I didn’t mention the shootings and the muggings at the mall months back. The pandemic has transformed life as we knew it. San Bruno is no different, and really until something happens in this town, nothing ever happens.  

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Perfectly Imperfect”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, September 17, 2021

Jeannie Yee Davis

I swore I wouldn’t let anything cost me my authenticity again. I’m my own person now, and I don’t care what people think of me. I couldn’t wait to be like the woman in the famous Jenny Joseph poem “When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple” that I followed her lead and began wearing purple way before time so as not to shock anybody when the time came. Well, that’s not entirely true, but it fits the poem, so we’ll go with that. 

It’s no surprise that some things in our lives will be a work in progress for as long as we live. Hard to believe. I know. I honestly thought I had it down to the point where I convinced myself, “what you see is what you get,” or “take it or leave it,” and “if you don’t like me, you can move along home.” Bottom line, I am who I am, and it doesn’t matter if you like me or not. A while back, I decided that it was better to be authentically me with my likes, beliefs, preferences, and choices than otherwise. In that way, I would never betray myself, and people would know the real me, what to expect, and they could decide whether they like me or not. There would be no misleading, misunderstandings, or misrepresentations. Instead, what you see is what you’ll get. It makes for an honest-to-goodness, easy-peasy lifestyle. 

This decision was long overdue but imperative to my happiness because my mom was a tough, protective, and controlling mother growing up. It was her way or no way. I dared not challenge her. I never understood the driver of her decisions, but she was the parent, and there was no arguing with her, which was fine, except her conditioning scarred me for life. To this day, I’m still working on scraping off those scar tissues. They were primarily annoying little things like she insisted we always, and I mean always, said no when a host offered us something to eat or drink. We were never allowed to accept anything, even if we were dying of thirst or really wanted to eat something—silly stuff like that—similarly, with a slew of face-saving etiquettes along the same lines. She did well in instilling her ways in me. I took that lousy habit with me throughout my life, even with her hundreds of miles away. If you asked me if I wanted something without thinking and, habitually, my quick answer would be, “No, thanks!” but truth be told, I might honestly want it. This means I’ve gone through my whole life cheating myself, which was my driver for ending this bad habit. If I want something, I’m going to have it. No more false politeness—that was the key to my mother’s madness, I believe—to save face that her daughters were lady-like and polite. 

I appreciate my mother caring so much to bring up her kids right. I would never ding her for that, but her methods had a lot to be desired. I believe a balance would have been the better way to train kids. Be polite, considerate, and respectful while being honest and allowing us to accept hospitality politely. I’ve had friends explain to me that it’s rude in some cultures to say no. Whoa, totally new concept, but I believe it. As I said earlier, it’s simply so much easier if we are honest and live according to face value.

I began practicing as I preach and have been so verbal with my likes and dislikes, and lucky for me, my peeps are loving people who get a kick out of my verbalness, and none has disowned me so far, but I do speak kindly. Still, I’m so blessed, and it felt terrific getting to enjoy whatever I wanted in front of my peeps. We all have a great time. I felt terrific being honest with my friends and true to myself. I love the new me—that’s high praise from someone who had such low self-esteem practically all of her life.

And this brings me to the purpose of this writing. Recently, I met a friend who happens to be a pretty cool guy. Well, at least to me, he is. If you asked him, he’d tell you that he’s just a down-to-earth guy who is a loner—nothing remarkable about him. Somehow, meeting him reminded me of my school days where I was this nerdy kid nobody noticed while he was Joe Cool, and girls flocked to him everywhere he went. Whether this was true or not, this was the reality in my mind, and that new me disbursed into a gazillion tiny particles and blew away replaced with the old insecure me. Suddenly, I saw all my flaws and imperfections and thought that’s what he sees when he looks at me, just like when I was a kid. I don’t know why I thought this. It didn’t matter who the person was—guy or girl, it was the same. In this case, it was a guy. It was nothing he said or did, but as I said, it transported me back to that clumsy little school girl whose insecurities did her no favors. 

Old habits die hard, as the old saying goes, and just like the scar tissues I’ve been working on, these old habits can scar you for life as well, as it did me. It was buried so deep that I thought I defeated them, but there are triggers for everything. My trigger was this cool guy who reminded me of my old school days when I saw myself not good enough to be his friend. Unexpectedly, I reverted to my mother’s conditioning, and I faked politeness thinking he wouldn’t like the real me. 

It’s a horrible feeling to notice every minor flaw and imperfection on and in my person, but the kicker was my surroundings. I was embarrassed by my world—both my successes and what I lacked. I didn’t want to outshine him or appear like a failure either. None of this makes any sense, but our insecurities don’t make sense. They are what they are—insecurities. I did not like the person I became at that moment. The good news is that recognizing this side of me revealed that I haven’t felt like this in decades meaning there is hope in sending that insecure little school girl back to the past and leaving her there. Now that I am aware of the trigger, I know what I need to do to prevent this issue from happening again.

We all have flaws and imperfections. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. It is what it is. The truth is, we all have them. They are the essence of who we are. So, why am I making such a big to-do about them with this guy? Then, I think, who is he that I would give him so much power over me? I’ve got tons of friends who have accepted me with all my bents, and I didn’t have to change anything to win their friendship. I made up the whole story in my head thanks to the old me. I don’t know what this guy thinks. I know that if there is any truth in my fabricated story, this would be an unhealthy relationship that would not end up pretty. 

We should not have to compromise our authenticity in any friendship. It should be a give and take and an acceptance of who we are, flaws and all. We come with our past successes and failures, which made us the person we are today. No shame attached. Not everyone who comes into our life becomes friends for life. Some come for a season for a reason, and they go on their way. I don’t know if this friend is seasonal. If he is, then I wish him well and thank him for the time we had together. However, I hope there is a future for us, and if so, he’d accept me as I am, perfectly imperfect.

Posted in Globfly

Globfly’s 33rd-month Angelversary

Today marks Globfly’s 33rd-month Angelversary—that’s two years and nine months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18. Since I started honoring Globfly’s memory with his favorite foods, it’s helped me retain a positive spin given the circumstances, but this month was a tough one. A couple of emotional episodes kept me in check, reminding me that my emotions can still overwhelm me at any time.

Remembering Globfly’s happy-go-lucky personality puts a smile back on my face and joy in my heart when I select one of his favorite foods for his Angelversary. Shall we get to it then? This month, he nudged me for a Skillet Chocolate Chip Cookie with, of course, a scoop of ice cream. He wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s funny. Globfly always kept me on my toes with curiosity. I never understood why he liked this dessert when he didn’t care for chocolate or chocolate chip cookies, but whatever floated his boat worked for me.

Globfly here’s to you, honey! I miss you every day more than words can say! ILYVVVVM 💜🖖👊