tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885462463978048922024-03-13T23:02:54.552-07:00Debbie Lee BlogsDrench yourself in this rare opportunity to take a
glimpse into the complex heart, analytical mind, and passionate soul
<br>of a mother, lover, songwriter and aspiring country-blues recording artist.<br>
Pour yourself a glass of wine and stay a while.Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-85062489560937216802013-01-28T05:02:00.000-08:002013-01-28T05:02:12.293-08:00Page 28It's a new year with a new book to write. Today is Page 28.<br />
<br />
There's much to say, much to share, and much to keep to myself.
But, for my first blog of 2013, I'd like to share a song I wrote with you.<br />
<br />
If you've followed me for a while, you know of this song. I released Please Hear My Prayer - Flood Version in 2010 after the May 1st flooding that ravaged Tennessee. What many of you don't know is that, the Flood Version is a re-write of a song I had previously written.<br />
<br />
The original song was written during a very emotional and turbulent time for me. The song was deeply personal and it was one that I had difficulty performing. I attempted to record it, but I was never satisfied with what was produced. Eventually, I put the song aside because it was - for lack of a better phrase - too powerful and emotional.<br />
<br />
During a recent songwriting session, I played the song for my co-writer and he was adamant that I record the song exactly like I had played it for him. I had a helluva time getting through it. He insisted the song was meant to be heard in that form and that it needed to be done.
Suffice it to say, I resisted. It's not that the song itself is a difficult song to sing in the sense that the range is extensive. It's simply so emotionally charged that it's hard to get through.<br />
<br />
Well, after some persistence on his part, I finally gathered the nerve to do it. I hunkered down in my little home studio and recorded it. I played the song through and recorded at least 6 vocal tracks. Ultimately, it came down to scrapping all but the first track because, the first vocal was honest.<br />
<br />
This is the song, as it was meant to be performed. It is simple. There was no click track. No filters, not even a pop filter. No vocal booth. No pitch correction. Nothing but a splash of reverb and a girl with her guitar. <br />
<br />
The story of how this song came to be is one that I am not prepared to share at this point in time. And, I cannot say that I will ever be prepared to share the story behind it outside my closest friends and family. Maybe one day...<br />
<br />
Allow me to share with you Please Hear My Prayer. The original version.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-72395596415565461302012-09-30T08:43:00.003-07:002012-09-30T08:43:52.814-07:00Page 274<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">So many pages have been filled and there are only 91 pages left to fill this
year. I've no doubt some wonderful memories have yet to be written.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I have wanted to sit and blog for a while about a multitude of
different topics. Unfortunately, I always seem to get sidetracked by
other tasks which require my immediate attention. Recent events, however,
have left me analyzing so many different aspects of my life. Now, here I
sit, attempting to put into words the all the things I have been thinking,
feeling, and wanting to say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">In the past I have been asked what my “platform” is as a
musician. It was an excellent question. I spent a great deal of time
thinking about that. Eventually, I finally answered that bringing
attention to the long term emotional and even physical effects to the victims
of bullying was my focus. As a victim of bullying as a youth and
throughout my life, it is an issue close to my heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Too many people think that bullying is a childhood issue.
They believe bullying is an issue relegated to children and adolescents.
I beg to differ. Bullying is something we all go through in one form or
another throughout our entire lives. From children in school who are
picked on for being “too this” or “too that,” to adolescents ostracized for not
having the right “look” or “clothing,” to the elderly in the community who are
frequently taken advantage of by low-life scoundrels, to the elderly in nursing
homes who are treated poorly, to even your basic citizen being judged merely by
the car they driver or the job they have – every day we are surrounded by
victims of bullying. Moreover, we may be perpetuating the bullying
ourselves, teaching our children these bad behaviors, without even realizing
what we are doing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If you are reading my blog, then you know I am a musician.
Rarely do I blog about that aspect of my life. I like to consider myself
an educated and eclectic individual and I don’t limit my blog to my experiences
in the industry. Rather, it is my experiences in life that fuel my
blogging. After all, what is a song, but a life experience or belief
wrapped up ever so carefully in a melody. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I was recently confronted with a form of bullying that snuck up on
me and took me by surprise, which left me re-evaluating the entire realm of
bullying and who the victims really are. Is it possible for someone to
not only be a bully, but to also be a victim of bullying all at the same
time? I believe it is. I believe it happens more often than we even
take the time to realize. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Have you ever had a friend, someone you trust and know come to you
telling you a terrible tale about a person you recently met, a person you don’t
know very well? Have you taken what your friend said to be the truth,
simply because you know and trust them on some level? Have you then
ostracized that other person, made a judgment upon them based on what your
“friend” said, and passed on that information to another friend or multiple
friends? If you answered NO to those questions, then maybe you need to
step back and look a little harder. We have all done it. In the
moment your “friend” comes to you with their tale of another person, you become
a VICTIM of the bully. You are being manipulated by the Bully’s sick and
twisted game, feeding into their tactics. However, in the moment you take
what has been presented to you as a fact and begin treating this other person
poorly because of what you have been told, you become the Bully.
Moreover, when you pass on that information as factual to another individual,
you contribute to this evil cycle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I am a Bully. I am also a victim of bullying. And,
right here, right now, I am making the commitment to no longer perpetuate this
cycle in my life. I will not allow myself to be looked down upon by
others and have them say, “She is a Bully.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Recently, I experienced some pretty significant emotional
trauma. If you know me, you know that I have struggled through some of
the most difficult moments in life – including the death of a child. I
believe there is very little in this world that is more heart wrenching that
burying your first-born child. I think I can safely say that this recent
issue I have been dealing with is very close to that type of emotional
stress. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I'm not going to expound upon those very personal issues at this
point in time. However, as a result of the stress, sadness,
disappointment, and outright anger I felt over them, I lashed out on a social
networking site with language that is better left for a sailor, and it was
something I regretted and ultimately removed in a very short space of
time. However, with that, I was labeled by someone as unacceptable.
It was someone I respected in the music industry and someone closely associated
with someone I admired in the industry. I was regretful of my behavior,
at the same time, I found myself feeling very unkindly toward this person for
their judgment of me not knowing the circumstances surrounding my
outburst. I began judging this person. It’s moments like that where
the transition is made from Victim to Bully. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Within a very short time after that incident, someone in close
association with the previous person who labeled me unacceptable, twisted
another social networking post of mine into something that was, for lack of a
better term, a complete lie. Specifically, lyrics of a song I was playing
on my guitar at the moment were taken, twisted, and translated as
representative of my spiritual beliefs. I was labeled as someone who
doesn’t believe in God based on the words of a song that someone else wrote - a
song that is played worldwide on the radio today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Let me take just a moment to interject another issue here.
People, not everything you see or read on the internet is what it appears to
be. The internet is not full of only truths about people. Usually,
it is full of lies colored with some truth, which is meant to manipulate your
thinking – a form of Bullying. And, if you can’t understand that, then
the internet is not a place you should be hanging out with any regularity. </span><u1:p></u1:p></i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Ultimately, this entire experience of mine left me labeled as a
vulgar, raging lush, who doesn’t believe in God. All of which couldn’t be
farther from the truth. But, these people don’t know me. They are
victims of someone else’s bullying. What’s worse, they perpetuate the
bullying by believing this garbage told to them, passing this muck on to
others, ultimately becoming bullies themselves. It is the cycle of
bullying. And, while one can attempt damage control – particular when it
relates to your professional career – it can never be completely undone, and
the emotional damage takes even longer to resolve. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">What did the Bully gain by this behavior? Well, I honestly
don’t know. The person at the heart of it is someone I met once, in
passing. Someone whose name I barely knew. Why focus on me?
Again, while I have my own theories, I honestly can’t say for sure.
Sharing those theories here really would not achieve anything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And, what about those people who perpetuated the bullying by
listening to this single individual and then going on to make massive judgments
on me, passing them on to others??? What was their motive? Once
again, I find myself with nothing but theories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">In the entertainment industry, nothing is what it seems.
Therefore, you would think that those involved in it would be the last people
to pass judgment on someone they only just met based upon the words of a single
individual who has absolutely no personal knowledge or personal association
with the individual their associate is maligning. Unfortunately, this is
not a perfect world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">What I can say is, in this situation, multiple people have lost
opportunities, lost respect, and lost friendships as the result of a single
bully buzzing in their ear, rather than confirming facts, rather than inquiring
as to the nature of the statements made, or even saying “Hey, I saw/heard
this. What gives?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">And, the transition from Victim to Bully begins, shrouded in
various shades of grey and misrepresentations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">If you remember nothing else, remember this, my friends.
There are always three sides to every story. Don’t jump to
conclusions. Take time to try to understand what someone else is going
through, what someone else has said, what someone else has done before passing
judgment – even if the buzzing in your ear comes from someone you think you can
trust. Confirm your sources. Confirm your information. Go to
the source. Never, never, never, perpetuate lies… One day you will
find yourself in the very same situation and you will be wondering why you are
where you are and how it all happened… I hope these verses – shared from
the labeled “disbeliever” ring loudly in your ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Hatred stirreth up strifes:
but love covereth all sins.” Proverbs 10:12</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Be not forgetful to entertain
strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews
13:2</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Judge not, that ye be not
judged.” Matthew 7:1-5</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“And as ye would that men should
do to you, do ye also to them likewise.” Luke 6:31</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-60429153803660513302012-08-13T17:00:00.000-07:002012-09-30T08:41:51.157-07:00Page 226The pages are turning and we are well on our way through the book that is 2012. Have we reached the climax yet? I don't know. Maybe we have. Maybe we haven't. I suppose all we can really do is just wait and see.<br />
<br />
I can say that this year, so far, has been absolutely inundated with learning, growth, and revelation. <br />
<br />
Page 226 is going to deal with something I've struggled with in the past and have run into a lot lately. <br />
<br />
Let me preface by saying, I am so far from perfect that if you were look up imperfection in the dictionary, you would likely see my picture next to it. However, I do my very best not to be hypocritical. If ever I find myself in a moment of hypocrisy, I immediately do my very best to remedy the matter. <br />
<br />
Recent encounters, experiences, and situations have left me thinking more on this issue. I'm really not going to elaborate on any details. I'm just going to cut to the chase on this pretty dang quick, because it really is something that I think more people need to pay attention to. <br />
<br />
If you want a friend. BE a friend. If you want to be treated with dignity and respect, the BE the person who treats others with dignity and respect. <br />
<br />
Don't sit there and talk shit about other people if you don't want people to talk shit about you. <br />
<br />
If you want people to be welcoming and pleasant to you. Then you must be welcoming and pleasant to others. <br />
<br />
Now, here's the best part of all this... if someone isn't that way with you, then SCREW 'EM!!! <br />
<br />
Don't even think twice about it. I'm the worst at this... I tend to sit and worry and fret and wonder and come up with all sorts of reasons why they are being the way they are to me. But, the bottom line is - not everyone is going to like you. And that's ok. Just be someone that YOU would like and be the kind of person worth being liked and it'll all work out in the end. <br />
<br />
Got it?! <br />
<br />
GOOD! <br />
<br />Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-70445107337897784622012-06-17T22:00:00.000-07:002012-09-30T08:42:55.805-07:00Page 170<div>
<br />
In the dwindling hours of what was left of an extra special day to celebrate and honor the Fathers in our lives, I lay awake in bed, beside the man who holds a very unique position in this family.<br />
<br />
I would like to introduce you to this man. <br />
<br />
This man... has sacrificed a life of time and leisure to commit to the next 10+ years of legal and fiscal responsibility for 7 additional children which he is not biologically responsible for creating.<br />
<br />
This man... has provided these same children with the safety and security of a home of their own.<br />
<br />
This man... has sacrificed his own needs and desires in abundance to provide these children with their own needs and desires.<br />
<br />
This man... attends - and at times has even coached - every possible sport practice, game and/or academic function which he is physically able to attend.<br />
<br />
This man... sits and helps these children with their homework, reviews every grade, and encourages their education.<br />
<br />
This man... teaches them to work hard, the value of a dollar, and how to respect and care for what you are blessed to have in this world.<br />
<br />
This man... wipes tears, mends owies, and fearlessly protects.<br />
<br />
This man... holds on to every card, every picture, and every special token of their love and devotion to him.<br />
<br />
This man... not only honorably serves in the United States Air Force Reserves, teaches these children the values of respect, honor and integrity in all things.<br />
<br />
This man... each and every one of these children calls "Daddy", "Dad", and "Father".<br />
<br />
This man... made the choice to be the Dad these children needed in their life so desperately and who loves them as though they are truly his own flesh and blood.<br />
<br />
This man... chose to assume the honorable and noble role that the Universe had assigned to another who failed to appreciate and respect the value of the role.<br />
<br />
This man... who has absolutely no legal obligation to be a Father to these children, happily and successfully performs and even excels in this position. <br />
<br />
The law says that, in return for all the blood, sweat, tears, heartache, time, love and money that this man puts in to raising these children, and for doing all the things a Father SHOULD do - as honorable a man he is - has no legal rights pertaining to these 7 children. <br />
<br />
None.<br />
<br />
The "Law" indicates that the biological paternal counterpart - the one who has failed to perform in any of the above roles because it didn't suit his lifestyle - is "entitled" to a relationship with these children who are, in all reality, complete strangers to him.<br />
<br />
This is reality. <br />
<br />
Yet in the face of this reality...<br />
<br />
Knowing that he could just as soon really away and have no absolutely no legal responsibility to see this commitment through...<br />
<br />
This man remains ever vigilant. Ever steadfast. Ever keeping guard over the hearts, minds, physical and emotional welfare of these children. <br />
<br />
This MAN... is a FATHER. <br />
<br />
I know this because I had a Father like this. And, by the power of the Universe, in reward for my Father's devotion to his role in my life, the law agreed and I was legally made his daughter. (Frankly, I'm convinced that I got the better end of THAT deal!)<br />
<br />
I have always wished for my children to have the love and devotion of a true Father, as I had. That kind of commitment and devotion is not a guarantee in the biology of a man, although it can and frequently does occur within those genetic links. This kind of commitment and devotion happens in the heart and it is overpowering. Men who feel that "Father Power" for children without a biological connection... Well, that's something extra special. <br />
<br />
Who says wishes don't come true? <br />
<br />
To my Father, Arthur... I will forever and for always be a Daddy's girl... <br />
<br />
To my soon-to-be-husband and a Father in every way that matters, even when you didn't have to be, Michael... I gave you my broken heart, my emotionally wounded children, and a you gave us back a family. You're not only magic, you're epic!<br />
<br />
And, finally to his Father, Lou, who has that Father Power squared... If not for your Father Power in your own family, this family would not be what it is today. Y'all wired him right and THAT is worthy of my eternal gratitude. <br />
<br />
People, any idiot can biologically create a life, but it takes a MAN to be a FATHER and turn that life into something splendid! These three men are the finest men among men.<br />
<br />
I honor you all. I love you all. I thank you.all.<br />
<br />
<img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-ookLEjVI7gw/T97IA03veQI/AAAAAAAAAN0/r89xItn5vG4/2011-12-25_10-36-24_859-1.png" /></div>
Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-58988545568685317772012-05-28T06:20:00.001-07:002012-05-30T20:52:32.388-07:00Page 149<div><p>In my studio, my computer monitor sits on a stand mounted to the wall.  On that stand, in front of my monitor, sits a dyecast model of a black '69 Corvette Stingray... My dream car.  The car which I spent nearly two hours searching for at the Corvette Museum, only to discover that they did NOT have it in their collection, so I was left with the only option of purchasing a model of it.  Pulling it backward winds up the wheels, and when you let go, then it goes forward. </p>
<p>When I'm stuck in my studio, there are plenty of times when I'm left thinking about where I'm going with the project I'm working on.  During those times, I'll play with my little Stingray.  I pull it back and let it go over and over until my head clears.  </p>
<p>I guess you could say that my little Stingray is somewhat representative of my music career.  It's been a tough, slow, and painfully emotional journey. Forever hoping, ever dreaming, ever seeking that elusive break that will allow me to spend the rest of my life supporting my family doing what I love, only to keep finding myself coming up short and/or empty handed, accepting a trinket in return for bruised dream and ego.  </p>
<p>I suspect that everyone can relate to this in some way or another; even those who seemingly have it all.  Like I said in a previous blog,  The Universe has no prejudice.  Sometimes it will smile down upon you and you will find yourself embracing your heart's desire. </p>
<p>Other times, it is gonna shit on you, without rhyme or reason, and you'll be left with your angry tears falling over what's left of your shattered dream, which you now hold in your hands.  </p>
<p>When find yourself in the latter situation, you have very few options.  But, be thankful that you at least HAVE options.  </p>
<p>#1 - You can chuck those pieces of your broken dream right into the trash. Then, you can be bitter, angry and vow never to dream again.  </p>
<p>#2 - You can take those pieces, wrap them up carefully in a hanky, put them gently into a box with some super glue, vowing to put it all back together when there's time. Then, never make time and let that dream just fade away in time as you forget.  </p>
<p>#3 -  You can take the pieces of that broken dream, salvage everything possible, and put it on display to remind you of what it is you ache for.  </p>
<p>Let your dream live!  It's your dream and no one can take that from you if you don't let them! </p>
<p>Here's how you do it...  <br>
Take all that pain, all that hurt, all that anger, all that resentment, and all that fear...</p>
<p>Then...</p>
<p>You just pull it back...</p>
<p>And let it go....  </p>
<p>~ A very special thank you, fist bump, high five and booty smack to my new friend Kathy Bertram for helping inspire this blog entry! Google her to see her performance on Jay Leno and keep your eyes peeled for her upcoming audition to be broadcast on  America's Got Talent!   </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-WO_nEMpmZRU/T8ODCZwf4FI/AAAAAAAAANo/yCO6xaYCnx8/p20120523-212120.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-87968671713812531222012-05-22T09:55:00.001-07:002012-05-22T09:56:29.440-07:00Page 143<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve seen a lot of witty pictures, opinion columns, and
other articles flying around various social media sites regarding the working
class opinion of recipients of welfare services; more specifically, that person
at the front of your line using their “food stamps” at the market. First, let me clarify that they are now
called SNAP Benefits, although even the recipients of these benefits still
refer to them as food stamps. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everything (and I am not exaggerating this in any way), I
have seen has referenced the user’s perfectly manicured finger nails, their
perfectly coifed hair, their brand new cell phone, their nice car (nicer than
the author’s car), etc. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let me share a story about that woman using her snap
benefits in line in front of you. Those
nails you claimed are perfectly manicured?
Those are her real nails that she cares for herself. It’s something she does late at night when
her children are in bed while she thinks about her day and the next day and how
her family is going to make it through the month. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That hair that is perfectly coifed? She hasn’t been to a hair dresser in over a
year because she can’t afford it. She
has learned how to stylishly keep it up, how to tuck the dead, frayed ends in
so that she looks good for the job interview…
like the one she is on her way home from when you saw her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That NEW cell phone?
Well, it’s the one that she was able to get for free signing up for a
contract plan with a provider so she could have a phone. It’s the only phone she has. She needs it for job interviews, to keep in
touch with the schools should there be an emergency with her children, and
email to SEND resumes for jobs. She
doesn’t have a computer because she can’t afford one. That cell phone is her lifeline to a better
life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her nice car? Well,
that car was sold to her by her parents.
It is a nice car because they kept it nice. She
makes them small payments as she can afford it to reimburse them. Because of their generosity and kindness, she
has a reliable vehicle in which to transport her children and make it to job
interviews and doctor appointments. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How do I know all this?
I know this because I am a recipient of SNAP Benefits. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have no doubt there are recipients of benefits out there
that are probably playing the system.
However, to lump all SNAP Benefit recipients into this category is
somewhat prejudicial don’t you think? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you have nothing better to do, and have enough time to devote
to judging that person using a SNAP Benefits card in front of you, then you
need a new hobby. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With all the current issues in the news of racism,
prejudice, and homophobia over gay marriage going on in this world, do we
really need to contribute to more out casting of members of our society? The citizens of this country are turning on
themselves! It’s no wonder we are no
longer the world dominator that we once use to be. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As advanced as society is, one cold hard fact remains true… You should NEVER judge a book by its
cover. </div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-31594618680578118062012-05-19T22:03:00.001-07:002012-05-20T19:49:15.424-07:00Page 141<div><p>I love pets.  Dogs. Cats. Bunnies. Horses.  They are "Love Companions."  </p>
<p>I remember my first pet.  A lovable Persian mix with a flat face thick hair that was black on top, but stark white underneath.  His name was Putt-Putt.  Since then, I have had many pets, from cats to dogs.  I even had a dog named Kitty.  I've had hamsters, fish, lizards, snakes, and I even had a pet rock at one time.  Ok, maybe it wasn't quite a "pet" persay, but it traveled with me for many years, through quite a but of my adult life and many moves.  There's a short and entertaining story to that which shall be left for another blog.  </p>
<p>Back to the topic at hand.  Pets.  </p>
<p>Owning a pet isnt easy, but it's rewarding.  There's a certain bond that is formed that can't quite be explained in words. But it can be felt and, at times seen, thru the tears of a human who has lost their beloved companion, be it injury, illness, old age, or even theft.  </p>
<p>For one of the first times in my life, I find myself desperately missing and needing that love and bond.  I have always had a pet in my bed, which managed to help me thru the loneliness I felt for so many years.</p>
<p>We currently have in our home, two dogs and, outside our home, one cat.  </p>
<p>The cat, Punkin', was inherited with the house.  He's loving, for sure, but I have no real bond with him.  He is my eldest son's special friend.  </p>
<p>Next is Odie.  Fredrick Odiferous Masticus Swineus Barkius Lickius Gluteus Maximus to be exact.  He is my rescue baby.  Obtained from the shelter at a mere six weeks old.  He is a sharpei-shepherd mix.  </p>
<p>Odie was my baby. He slept with me every night.  He snuggled, with his head on my pillow, while I cried myself to sleep for so many years.  He knows all my secrets and has protected me from many moments of danger.  After we moved here to Tennessee, he somehow, gradually  became my second oldest son's dog.  Mainly, because I was gone a lot and he cared for Odie in my absence.  Since my fiancée is severely allergic to Odie (something to do with the oils of a sharpei), he is restricted to the basement with my eldest boys and outside.  He is happy.  </p>
<p>Finally, there's Gracie. A 6 month old chocolate lab for which I exchanged a large sum of cash to provide my fiancée with companionship and love that I knew he had been missing since his ex was awarded his dog in the divorce.  To add insult to injury, she quickly and cold heartedly gave it away.  That dog saved his life and losing her broke his heart.  Knowing how much the devout love of a pet has done for me, shortly after we moved into our new home, with his mother by my side, we went and picked out Gracie. She is definitely his love companion.  </p>
<p>To be perfectly honest... Lately, I find myself jealous.  I can't nail down if it's jealousy of how much he loves Gracie, plays with her, cares for her, dotes on her...  Or if it's the love she has for him.  A love and devotion which I don't have from a furry companion anymore. Or maybe I don't have it from him. All I know is that I simply feel like I'm on the losing end all around.  </p>
<p>I had hoped that, since she was a female, he would consent to her having a single litter of chocolate lab puppies. Ultimately, I wanted to keep one for myself.  I miss that companionship so desperately.  And even more as of late. But, as is the way of life for me, I shall never experience that joy because Friday, she was spayed.  </p>
<p>You would think that being engaged, having seven children, I would never feel lonely.  But I do.  More often than not these days.  Everyone has their friends, activities, things to do, and even with everyone home, I am still alone.  </p>
<p>And, here it is, past midnight, and I am wide awake, wishing so much for a pet of my own.  </p>
<p>At this moment, I want warmth. I want touch.  I want tenderness.  Affection. </p>
<p>There is void in my heart...  a loneliness I feel growing day by day as no one seems to want to be around me, talk to me  spend time with me. And, I feel like my existence, my thoughts, my feelings, my needs, my fears... I honestly feel like no one gives a shit. No one values me.  I'm worthless.  I'm just an annoyance in their lives.  One they'd sooner dispose of - or at the very least - eliminate as much interaction from.</p>
<p>If I matter to no one, not even an animal, well then, what's the point of mattering  at all?  </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Jr57C-kxfNE/T7iAk8CYZcI/AAAAAAAAANc/R0oha-PAaro/2010-03-16%25252021.11.26.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-43356143552797741172012-05-17T22:27:00.001-07:002012-05-17T22:29:05.485-07:00Page 138<div><p>A cousin of mine asked the age old question of, "Why do bad things happen to good people, while bad people get good things that they don't deserve?"</p>
<p>The Christian answer is that God gives us all our own unique challenges to polish us and strengthen us for eternal greatness and reward, and that the bad people will only enjoy a momentary joy, for they shall receive their justice at the final judgment.  All will be made right in the end.</p>
<p>I'm really trying to insert the proper words to express how I truly feel about all that without offending, but I'm coming up blank.</p>
<p>Sorry.  But I call bullshit.  Stop living in fear of God and stop feeling guilty for not being on bended knee grateful for every damn trial.  </p>
<p>Explain to me the logic of that religious blather when you read a news article bout a woman arrested for letting her internet boyfriend have sex with her 5 month old infant to fulfill his sexual fantasies.</p>
<p>Explain that logic as a 10 year old child if repeatedly raped by a family member, is denied an abortion because she can't prove it, and is forced to give birth to a baby.</p>
<p>Explain that logic to me when a young boy lures his 4 teaser old sister over to a tree to intentionally hang and kill her and then goes to bed as though nothing happened.</p>
<p>You can waste your breath trying to tell me that it's a matter of Faith. But, I call ur Faith and raise you Reality!  </p>
<p>People, listen closely and carefully as to what I am about to tell you, because it could change your life.  </p>
<p>Bad things happen to good people every day.  Good things happen to bad people every day.  And, for the sake of those who look toward their faith and/or a final judgment to finally level the playing field in a spectacle of fire and damnation or as a thief in the night....  I hope that you will forgive me for my complete lack of ability to embrace your way of thinking.  </p>
<p>Karma is a philosophy I can embrace, but have recently begun to take an even more distant approach to that.  </p>
<p>Here is the bottom line. Here is where I stand, as I said yesterday, with my feet firmly planted in the quicksand of rock bottom. Here is my answer to my cousin's question.</p>
<p>Darling, the Universe has no prejudice. So what right do we have to make a judgment on whether anyone deserves good or bad.  It gives what it gives. We take what it gives and we do what we do with it.  </p>
<p>If only people would stop this insane idea that God actually has a prejudice for or against any mortals, to give them more our less goodness/tragedy. </p>
<p>No prejudice. That's the law of the universe. Prejudice, punishment, training for battle and greater glory, that's all human thinking and concepts. </p>
<p>I prefer to stand by the No Prejudice concept of the Universe.  If only everyone would just live that way... </p>
<p>NOH8</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-wrj8NwlRoy0/T7XeHy8Gj3I/AAAAAAAAANQ/iit3dgmC-Oc/p20120331-183634.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-91422461697141105842012-05-15T20:56:00.001-07:002012-05-17T21:47:21.554-07:00Page 137<div><p>I find myself, once again, sleeplessly meandering thru my mind which, under these circumstances is a very delicate and potentially dangerous undertaking. </p>
<p>Essentially, this blog is simply me...  About me...  For me...  Pure honesty...  </p>
<p>Proceed with caution for this  gearing up to be some serious rambling. </p>
<p>I wouldn't say that I'm in a bad mood. I wouldn't say that I'm in a good mood.  My mood is one that I honestly can't define. I would say however, that I have found myself utterly challenged at making lemonade with sour lemons that have been chucked at me for so long.  </p>
<p>Let's face facts. First fact is, when it comes to music, most particularly singing, I'm mediocre at best.  When our comes to writing, I'm probably better than many, but again, mediocre.  And, engineering/ producing???  Mediocre might actually be far too strong a word.  Given this enormously mediocrity, why do I have such a love and passion for it?  I don't get it.  </p>
<p>When it comes to life skills, I am a freaking incredible legal secretary. I type at the speed of light...  Over 100 WPM with nearly 100% accuracy to be precise.  My ability to research, draft  pleadings, and create legal documents is above par.  My ability to learn new software in very little time is astonishing, even to me.  My passion and lust for justice is second to none.  Give me a computer and I can do nearly anything related to office management, including creating a completely new office support management plan. </p>
<p>And yet, with all this ability, I find myself with no job prospects in sight. Shit, I can't even get a call back for an interview, not even a part time minimum wage prospect (which is frankly all I want at this point.)  </p>
<p>Here is where the sick tragedy of errors that is my life comes in.  In spite of my incredible skills and ability to support an employer, and in spite of the love I have for that "chosen career," my passion and the utter lust I have to be in the studio creating and drowning in rhythmical melodies simply overpowers all else.  I am happiest when doing something which I fully acknowledge that I am - And likely never be more than - merely mediocre at.  </p>
<p>Ultimately, neither is helping me in any way whatsoever. And, the extent to which I find myself lamenting recently about the emotional and financial place I have found myself in is overwhelmingly frequent.  </p>
<p>I posted a status on Facebook today about my angst to spend some time at the front of the parade rather than bringing up the rear with a pooper scooper in hand.  </p>
<p>The worst part of it all is that I find myself in a state of financial destruction.  Robbing Peter to pay Paul, is not even a possibility at this point.  I'm just plainly unable to meet any of my or my children's needs and the responsibilities.  I have.  In essence, I have bitten off more than I can chew. I have not only found myself between a rock and a hard place, but I have planted my feet firmly in the quicksand of rock bottom.  I have been irresponsible with money.</p>
<p>I could blame the Judge in all his infinite wisdom who choose to grace my seven children with a mere $767 child support amount TOTAL, unchanged in the last 7 years.</p>
<p>I could blame my ex husband for becoming a perpetual student, spending the last two years on the beautiful islands of St. Kitt and Nevis to attend medical school and travel the world only seeing his kids for 4 days in all that time. </p>
<p>I could also blame him for his lack of support which forced me to drop out of school on my  last semester for my degree so that I could work to support my family. </p>
<p>I could go on to blame him for rarely talking to them, not even calling my oldest soon on his birthday, and only initiating communication with them, after several months of complete silence, following an email informing him of the kids' desire and my desire to have them adopted by my fiancee following our marriage.  </p>
<p>I could certainly blame him for his most recent asinine statement 2 weeks ago that he pays too much in child support and that his past 8+ years of education are in the best interests of the children so that he CAN support them (keeping in mind that at this rate half of them will have GRADUATED and will longer be included in child support calculations.  </p>
<p>And, I could very well blame him for delaying reimbursement of his 1/2 obligation to the nearly $700 to $800 of fees for the kids to play baseball and softball.  </p>
<p>I could definitely blame him for actually expecting me to pay for half of the airfare for SEVEN children to fly across the country to stay with him and his family - nothing more than strangers st this point - for an entire month.  </p>
<p>Yeah, I could blame a lot more on a lot more things and people.  But why waste the energy.  Nothing ever changes.  And, the reality of it all falls squarely on my lap. There isn't a single soul who will help me carry or lighten this burden. I've learned that the hard way over and over.</p>
<p>My children and I are enormously blessed to have a good man in our lives who truly loves us. Who provides us a place to call home.  Who works so hard to be the rock which this family stands on.  I do acknowledge that gift and blessing. But, he has no obligation to help me out of this mess. And, I will not ask.</p>
<p>Looking at the current state of my finances, with no job, no job prospects, and my need to be home during the summer while kids are out of school, and their need for Mom to be here... well, I find myself understanding why so many have attempted to just end it all.  </p>
<p>Chill out!  Don't freak!  I'm not saying I'm considering suicide. I'm just saying I empathize. I feel their pain.  </p>
<p>Facing all this truth, as well as the impending shit storm that I am about to experience, is not something I'm looking forward to.  I have always prided myself in never expecting to be taken care of.  And, whenever the opportunity to help others arises, I always provide when and if I can.  </p>
<p>I've done a lot of bad in my life. But I've also done an enormity of good.  So, in all honesty...  I'm feeling a bit put upon.</p>
<p>This is my plea to the Universe....  </p>
<p>I am weak.  I am broken. I am tired. I am afraid.</p>
<p>Please, provide me with the opportunity to resolve my current situation without creating pain, heartache and anger. </p>
<p>Please allow me the clarity of mind and sight to see the solution you put in my path.</p>
<p>Please bless me with the courage to grasp that solution when it is before me.</p>
<p>Please, help me with the strength to avoid ever falling into this situation or another like it ever again. </p>
<p>And, if it isn't too much to ask...  Could you kinda hurry???  Please?<br></p>
<br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-81LW868tDB8/T7M-QFphC8I/AAAAAAAAANE/NgQFKyOT6xA/p20120515-172557.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-4951579666368971892012-05-10T16:49:00.001-07:002012-05-10T17:10:27.413-07:00Page 131<div><p>School is nearly over for the year and summer break is about to become reality in our home.  This means I will be surrounded by seven children morning-noon-night until August, when they return to school.  ***insert sarcastic comments at your leisure***</p>
<p>As I think about all the knowledge they are about to purge from their little minds, I am left recalling all the summer breaks I experienced in my youth.  And, I wonder even more how I managed to retain any of it.  Of course, you have undoubtedly heard me say it before, I have already forgotten more than my children will ever learn.  But, even so, I am concerned about just how much they will forget.  </p>
<p>This leaves me thinking about the teachers they have had for the last 2 to 10 years.  Are they teachers who made an impact on their lives?  Not just because they did their job, but because they went above and beyond, doing more than just the average bear.  Did any of them teach my children life skills and lessons they will carry forever?  Will my children remember them?</p>
<p>Funny enough, I immediately started thinking of all the teachers I have had in my life and which of them had the most impact on me.  I realized, I can't remember 99% of their names, although there are a great many faces, classes, and lessons I recall.  </p>
<p>So, why is that?  Am I a horrible person?  </p>
<p>Let me answer that.  No. I'm not.  Maybe I'm an oddity, but none of them impacted me all that much.  I was, however greatly impacted by the daily anxiety of going to school, the bullying I received day in and day out for at least 7 years straight.  None of those teachers were there for me. And, sadly, many - if not most of them - virtually encouraged it by simply ignoring it.  </p>
<p>Ok. So, maybe they all impacted me... While teaching me the basic skills I would use in life (math, english, science, history, etc), they also taught me to be afraid, to not trust, and I still feel anxiety simply driving by a school, nevermind actually setting foot in one.  An impossibility to avoid when you have as many children as I have.  </p>
<p>Thankfully, the teachers who make the most impact on our lives are not the ones who get paid to shove as much knowledge as humanly possible down the throats and into minds of our children in 9 months.  It's no wonder they can't remember where they put their shoes on a daily basis.  </p>
<p>The true teachers in our lives are the ones who help guide us into being, by the grace of the Universe, good, decent, caring and competent adults.  And, by their lessons, we in turn learn to become teachers ourselves.  </p>
<p>Who are the teachers I remember most? Well, my parents of course.  The teaching job that never ends.  Then, the teachers I remember most are every bully, every ex boyfriend and girlfriend, every former employer, and every single person involved in the lessons I have learned in my lifetime.  </p>
<p>But, in the end, the question still lingers.  Who are the teachers that have impacted me the most?</p>
<p>Well, that one is simple.  </p>
<p>My children... The most unwitting teachers of all.  </p>
<p>If they only knew they outnumbered us "old folk," they could rule the world.   </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Tv5a7UfLe2o/T6xUGUVyXJI/AAAAAAAAAM4/MAUhz-V5bak/p20120508-112145.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-13513087345815264172012-03-26T09:13:00.000-07:002012-03-26T09:13:46.062-07:00Page 86<div class="MsoNormal">I’ve never admitted to being normal. Just the word itself sounds strange. Say it over and over… </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You’re thinking of that pesky little kitten, Nermal, from Garfield now, aren’t you? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I digress… if you think about it, the very idea and concept of “Normal” is abnormal in and of itself and it is completely subjective. Every individual, society, faction, etc., has a different idea of what makes a person normal. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Is normal based on appearance? Is normal based on thought processes? Is normal based on where you grew up? Where you were born? Whether you have one, two, three or four parents? Whether your parents consists of a father and mother, mother and mother, father and father, or just a mother or father? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What the hell is normal?! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here’s what I know. I’m not. I am probably the antithesis of normal in all actuality. Or am I? The mere fact that I even spend time analyzing this issue probably makes me abnormal. But, if that makes me abnormal, then the amount of money and time invested in studies defining those in society who are within the “normal spectrum” can be considered abnormal too. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, why this blog topic? Why am I dissecting normality? Good question. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The month of March has been challenging on many levels in our family, personally, for each person individually, and as a collective whole. We have faced unique opportunities and challenges. As a result, we have been forced to take a deeper look into our own psyches and behaviors. We find ourselves questioning ourselves, our motives, our styles, our philosophies, and our techniques, wondering where we went right, where we went wrong, and what is wrong with us – as though we are somehow ABNORMAL and we must now put all of our efforts into being NORMAL. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I really think that the entire world is f****d up to be honest with you. There is no normal. The only normal in this world is that everyone is ABNORMAL. We all have different views of the world and what we think people should do and where they should go, what they should say, how they should act, and of course, every single one of us has the singular mindset of “what’s in it for me?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hey, don’t try to B.S. yourself saying, “Oh no, I’m not like that.” You’re full of crap. Yes you are. You all are. I am. Everyone is. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let’s break down a couple phrases we hear or see every day… </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I just want everyone to get along.” Why? Will it somehow make the world better if everyone just gets along? Yeah, maybe it would, but nothing would ever improve either. Improvement comes from conflict. So, why do you want everyone to get along? So everyone will be happier??? Bullshit. It’s so YOU will be happier. You’re sick of listening to and dealing with all the fighting and the drama and the crap that goes along with everyone being at each other’s throats. That’s all about YOU baby! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I live for my children.” It’s a beautiful concept. But, when you get up in the morning, what’s the first thing you do? You go to the bathroom. You’re so selfish… Look, I have no doubt that you, as do I, garner a great deal of enjoyment and pleasure in seeing your children succeed, grow, and do amazing things. But, do you also live for every moment that they are beating and kicking the hell out of each other or out of another child? Do you live for the moments that they come in to tell you they don’t feel good and puke all over you? No you don’t. Do you live for the moments that they keep you up all night long, every night, where you can’t even function and you’re whining on Facebook or Twitter about how little sleep you’ve gotten? Are you living for them at that moment? No, you’re living for yourself, wishing you were getting some damned sleep! Don’t lie. There are definitely child rearing moments that you could definitely live without. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now, does all that mean that you don’t look back on some of those moments and laugh, or having a child that’s passed on (as I have), wish for even one of those rotten moments back just for the chance to have it? No, it doesn’t mean that. But, again – that’s a selfish though. All about the “I”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now, for those who are boo-hooing my “living for my children” rant, if you’re THAT wrapped up in everything that is your children to the point that you can’t even live for yourself, have no identity outside of those children, you are so co-dependent that you live each and every moment absorbed in everything that has to do with them, you might want to seek some therapy. I promise you, you are headed down a very long, lonely, and emotionally painful road when you wake up one morning and realize that those children don’t live for you, have their own lives, and go on to live them. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bottom line, the only NORMAL thing in this world is the fact that we are all born from an egg that met up with sperm in some fashion, and in the end, we are all born with a complete sense of self. As babies, we are all about what makes us happy and what makes us sad. Our only communication is to cry, laugh, and coo. It’s all about how we feel. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As we get older and grow, we maintain that all encompassing “I” complex…. It’s all about what we want, what we think is fair, what is best for us, what our concept of life and world is. And, of course, those concepts and ideas are what we impart unto our children. Sometimes they choose to accept our concepts as their own and sometimes they choose to create their own. What do you do when they choose their own way? Well, you disagree and, in some instances, get upset. That’s because it’s what YOU WANT! The all empowering “I”. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s amazing isn’t it? So, how does this blog end? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It ends like this. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Face it people. No one is going to be exactly what you want them to be or behave how you want them to behave all of the time, because no one fits into a perfect mold. We aren’t meant to. If we were meant to fit into a mold, then we would all look the same, talk the same, and think the same and – frankly – I’m not about that. I like my individuality and I’m keeping it (see how that “I” thing worked?) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Am I selfish? HELL YES I AM! I want my coffee ready for me when I get up in the morning. I want to go to sleep at bedtime. I want to wake up when the alarm goes off and not hit snooze and feel rested. I want my knee to bend. I want to laugh. I want to love. I want to be happy. I want my kids to do what I tell them when I tell them and not give me lip about it, I want, I want, I want… I’m perfectly NORMAL!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here’s where I become abnormal… I know that life isn’t all about me. I know that there are mornings that I’m not going to wake up to a fabulously made pot of coffee waiting for me. I know that I suffer from chronic insomnia and I take what sleep I can get and trudge through. I know that unless I get better therapy and feel a lot more pain, my knee will never bend again. I know that I’m going to cry. I know that there are times when I’m going to feel completely unloved and I know there are times I’m going to be downright depressed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I also know that my kids are just as selfish as I am and they are NOT going to be perfect, obedient, and robotic. They have their own NORMAL minds that think about their own selfish things, and that’s the beauty of them! They can’t be controlled anymore than I can be controlled. However, with a little bit of guidance and occasionally a firm hand, I can guide them into the blissful realm of ABNORMAL behavior by getting them to engage in the concept of the collective family, taking into consideration and doing what will make ME happy, thereby creating more opportunities for them to enjoy their own selfishness, and ultimately, I can enjoy mine! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nope, I’m not normal. I ain’t right either. But, neither are you. And, the beat goes on…. </div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-81618173257636417462012-02-29T19:03:00.001-08:002012-02-29T19:03:06.366-08:00Page 60<div><p>Interestingly, this book is going to be 366 pages.  I didn't think about that when starting.  </p>
<p>I just wanted to share my thoughts with you for a moment. </p>
<p>Do you ever feel regret over something you should have said or done?  Do you feel like you wish you had one more day?  </p>
<p>Well, Congratulations! You got your wish   </p>
<p>Leap Day.  The extra day. That second chance. That extra kiss, that extra hug. That"I miss you" and "I love you".  </p>
<p>Don't wait for someday...  Today is Someday.  </p>
<p>Xoxoxo</p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-OvXvnYDyTCg/T07m6Nrbg5I/AAAAAAAAAMw/6n9iFhUJ040/p20120229-184150.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-46161411149199642042012-02-12T13:24:00.003-08:002012-02-12T14:07:41.470-08:00Page 43<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Carrying Lessons Forth into the Future....</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Throughout my 37 years of life, I have encountered multitudes of different people; from the hyper-functional to the hypo-functional to the completely and unequivocally dysfunctional. As I lay here recovering from knee surgery, I am left alone to meander through the memories of the people I have had the pleasure and displeasure of meeting in my life. Upon closer analysis of those memories, I find it peculiar that the dysfunctional people are the ones who stick out in my mind. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This revelation inevitably leads me to question: A.) Am I in fact fly paper for freaks? Or, B.) Is it normal for the crazy people that we have had to deal with in our lives to consume any goodness – including the goodness in our memories - like a leech on a hemophiliac?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Careful analysis of this enigma leaves me to conclude that an answer to both of these questions is an emphatic and resounding YES! Do you think that position is too extreme? Do you think it makes me a “Negative Nelly?” I don’t. I don’t think I’m being negative in facing facts and dealing with reality at all. We’ve already established in my previous blog that I accept the fact that I must live in an alternative reality. But, being that it’s MY reality, then it’s not really considered alternative then, is it? </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Yes, yes, yes, I know… Before I blog you into endless circles, let me invite you into a moment in time into my reality. Let’s give you an example so that you can better understand why my answer is YES.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I have the pleasure of having regular dealings with a lady (a term I use very loosely), who not only utilizes her children as pawns in a never ending war that she not only started, but continues to fuel. This woman (another term I use loosely), does her damndest to keep totalitarian control of her former spouse by maintaining her greedy little fists firmly clenched around court papers which she maniacally waves around like a sword. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The sadistically humorous part of it all is that she still hasn’t figured out that it’s a double-edged sword. Frankly, through all her ranting, raving, and referencing of court orders, I’m beginning to wonder exactly how it is she managed to successfully complete and graduate from any form of secondary education considering that she obviously has neither common sense, nor a grasp of the English language and how, once words are put to paper in a specific order – including punctuation – the words cannot magically alter and re-arrange themselves just because she utters the magic words “Court Order.” </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This “person” (I’m trying to avoid using profanity here people) is obviously oblivious to the fact that, secondary to my long history of successful and unsuccessful dealings with losers and bottom-feeders, such as is she, I have become extremely knowledgeable as to her thought processes, behavior patterns, and probable ensuing actions.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She is the kind of woman who will confront a woman she sees with her former spouse and call her a “husband stealing slut” (***please note the aforementioned relationship of referenced husband as being “former”), and in the next breath declare herself to be the "better person." </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When talking to her daughters about his step-children, she refers to the step-kids as “His Kids" to her own children, and never references his actual children as "His" in any way - aside from them being his financial responsibility and obligation (there's always an underlying monetary foundation for these types of people.) </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She frequently accuses others of using her children as pawns, but then turns around and creates social networking accounts in the names of her children in order lurk, stalk, and instigate drama with her former spouse and his family. I</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">t is obvious to anyone with even half a brain that it’s not the child using the social networking account.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">There are certain common sense rules that apply in these types of situations – something which "Broom Hilda" is lacking.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">And, while I honestly wish I could just turn my back, walk away and never think of this person again, there's a certain macabre fascination in it. Much like watching a train wreck. You stand there, watching, in horror and awe at the magnitude of the destruction! </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I suppose it is the type of behavior and mentality that can be expected from a woman who starts dating a man while still married to another man (unbeknownst to either man I might add.)</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> I hear the story told that she eventually </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">divorced the first husband after accusing him of numerous methods of verbal, emotional, and physical trauma - seemingly the same abuse that she accused her second husband of when they split. What's curious however, is that there is no record that has been found to date confirming a legal </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">divorce was ever obtained. Hmmmm???? </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Nevertheless, she went on to marry the second man (aka the "former spouse".) Then, while she was pregnant with their second child, she cheated on the second husband! </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Okay - Let's just make sure you're taking your notes here... Quick review, she was pregnant when she cheated on her former spouse, second husband, the father of her children, the man with whom she cheated on her first husband with. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Apparently, even low expectations are far too high for her.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The thing that turns this entire soap opera into a perverted comedy is that this woman calls herself a “saved” woman! A Christian woman! A changed woman! She considers herself a VICTIM! Thankfully, there is a relatively large number of us in the population who live in Reality and are impervious to the manipulations of these types of earthly inhabitants. We realize that she, and so many others like her, are nothing more than victims of their own creation.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I once read that the past is a teacher and your lessons learned should be carried forth with you into the future. So, to those people, and to the very particular nut-job who inspired this blog entry, I stand here carrying forth my lessons learned and I graciously share those lessons with the world in saying, "Go on... Call yourself a changed and saved woman if you want, but we know better! You can call yourself a pussy cat all you want, but all you are is a Cougar... you can't hide your spots. And, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your spots ain't changed!"</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Debbie Lee </span><br />
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<div></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-30139645660168610552012-02-02T20:57:00.001-08:002012-02-02T20:59:00.370-08:00Page 33<div><p>Lying here with a massive headache and sleepless cuz of nerves about my knee surgery tomorrow.</p>
<p>Overall, I've been holding up a strong positive front. But, inside, i'm shivering like a scared little girl.  </p>
<p>I suppose it's all normal feelings, but I still feel exposed admitting that.  </p>
<p>Tomorrow is a day of discovery and answers. I liken it to finding out if God is real or not.  My knee is kinda like the moment that so many people wait for in life.  But, instead of answering the question, is God real? We are answering the question, is there a genuine injury to my knee causing the pain???  </p>
<p>Right? Right! So, tomorrow I find out.  </p>
<p>I really, really hope he finds something wrong - like a meniscal tear, acl treat, something genuine and treatable.  I can handle rehab.   Cuz if he finds nothing - everything is normal - then I'm off to pain management. And, something I've learned over the years is that it's nearly impossible to fight off a pain that has no justifiable reason to exist in your life other than to simply try to fuck with your mind.  </p>
<p>Hmmm....  Sounds like a few people i.know actually.  </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-OBQGA6rb4L0/TytpksTQWkI/AAAAAAAAAMo/35kkWyk2Udk/IMG_20110113_101156_edit0.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-39397446842689241892012-02-01T18:38:00.001-08:002012-02-01T18:55:14.617-08:00Page 32<div><p>Life is hard. Relationships are hard. I see so many kids these days posting on Facebook about their relationship attempts (especially the failed attempts).  The constant back and forth relationship status changes - like a revolving door.  </p>
<p>I can't help but wonder why there is such an emphasis on having a romantic relationship.  I'm not naive by any stretch of the imagination. I'm aware that hormones begin to run amuck at a young age spurred on ferociously by advertising and musical influences.  But even so, where is  the parental guidance?  </p>
<p>When little girls are encouraged to be in relationships at 9 & 10 yrs old, one has to wonder what the hell is in the parent's head?!  By encourage, I also mean allowing such a young girl to even refer to another child as a " boyfriend" regardless of what silly and unreasonable restrictions you have in place.  It's mental. It just ain't right.  </p>
<p>I have personally witnessed a situation where a 10-year-old child was told she isn't allowed to shave her legs or  underarms until she is 12.  That's a hygeine and personal image thing. She wants to, she feels embarrassed by the hair growth as she frequently has her legs exposed due to sports activities.  (On a side note, my own 10-year-old twin daughters have had to shave their under arms since they were 9 at their own request and because it was noticeable.)  However, this same 10-year-old child who is not allowed to shave is, however, allowed to be "in a relationship" (per Facebook), and is allowed to have a"boyfriend" with the stipulation of no holding hands till 16, no hugging till 18, and no kissing till 30.  </p>
<p>Seriously?!  I mean, c'mon...  Is there some piece of this puzzle that I am missing?</p>
<p>I must be living in a twilight zone where I, a grown, 37-year-old woman living with my fiancé and 7 children, in a nice home, raising them to take life seriously and not treat relationships flippantly, am considered to be participating in an inappropriate relationship - exposing young children to emotional turmoil - yet, the aforementioned emotional and mental programming and manipulation of a young girl is considered a strong, conservative, Christian upbringing.  </p>
<p>I would like to publicly say that, I am so very grateful for the inappropriate and alternative reality which my family lives in.  And, Universe-willing, my children will grow up living in the twilight zone too.</p>
<p>Debbie Lee</p>
<p>P.S. No, my 10-year-old daughters do not have Facebook accounts and get offended when anyone even suggests that they might have a boyfriend. And, my 13 & 14-year-old sons have decided (thanks to our inappropriate, secular child-rearing techniques) that they are too young for relationships and should keep their options open. </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/-pQEZC3wOF4Q/Tyn6V-hTEpI/AAAAAAAAAMg/aXSFu5mN-04/429912_374829722530629_268038566543079_1636352_1970688370_n.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-37940418260449788912012-01-13T17:13:00.001-08:002012-01-13T17:14:20.327-08:00Page 13<div><p>Sometimes, when things seem at their absolute worst, even the smallest token and/or word of love and kindness are like a flower in a barren wasteland.  They can  completely change the landscape.</p>
<p>So grateful for the sunflowers, daisies, and lilies in my life...  And, for him most of all.</p>
</div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-77576571369512233162012-01-10T05:52:00.001-08:002012-01-10T05:52:06.163-08:00Page 10<div><p>The internet is an amazing tool. You can effectively DELETE friends, relatives, family, relationships..... </p>
<p>Life. Delete. </p>
<p>What a concept. </p>
</div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-42023460540270509932012-01-09T21:43:00.001-08:002012-01-09T21:43:47.451-08:00Page 9<div><p>A dismal failure, in every regard. The pages are old, tattered, torn & smudged. Apparently, this book has no substance. Much like the author, according too recent reviews. </p>
</div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-12509682456562472712012-01-07T16:09:00.001-08:002012-01-07T16:09:03.446-08:00Page 7<div><p>One week into the year 2012 and I'm exhausted. </p>
<p>I'm happy, however, to say that I have been able to spend more time in the studio this week than I have in almost six months. it feels really great to create again. It feels even better to have a functional space to create in. Only good things can come from this.</p>
<p>I've already composed a beautiful piano piece that is still awaiting completion of the lyrics. A special dedication.... </p>
<p>hopefully I will be able to share it with y'all very soon.</p>
<p>Xoxoxo</p>
</div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-48788695335897608612012-01-02T06:08:00.001-08:002012-01-02T06:21:16.909-08:00Page 2<div><p>Yesterday was awesomeness!  I really needed that kind of time to focus on something important to me: family, home & music.  And, today, I'm looking forward to more of the same.  </p>
<p>If all goes well, I may even be able to test out my new studio's recording ability! I think a little Adele is in order....</p>
<p>Hip-hip-hooray! </p>
<p>P.S. Did I ever mention getting engaged to the most incredible man in the world? On 11/11/11, on the front porch of the new home we had just moved our family into, at the most unexpected moment, under a waning full moon, he got down on one knee. And, with my grandmother's ring, he proposed. It was perfect. He's perfect. </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-1CdCUkM8ANs/TwG6d4iVInI/AAAAAAAAALY/j29unduvbqc/IMG_20110225_192950_edit0.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-49738440297878052012-01-01T08:49:00.001-08:002012-01-01T08:49:36.169-08:00Page 1<div><p>So, Brad Paisley says that today is the first page of a 365 page book and to make it a good one.  </p>
<p>Hmmm....  sounds like a plan!   Welcome to page 1.  </p>
<p>Today, I'm gonna enjoy my home, my family, my music, and life.  </p>
<p>Happy New Year y'all </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/-wiHEEx3ZatE/TwCOnuLeeEI/AAAAAAAAALQ/M38aK_TQ7s0/2011-12-25_10-36-24_859-1.png' /></div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-32656559994194612152011-10-26T18:56:00.001-07:002011-10-26T18:56:11.504-07:00Too long...<div><p>Wow, so much time has passed since I have written. Maybe I should pick it up again.</p>
</div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-43234985831480218692011-02-07T07:27:00.000-08:002011-02-07T07:27:07.059-08:00Let's Chat<em>This is a repost of a Note I posted on my </em><a href="http://www.facebook.com/debbieleetorres"><em>FaceBook Fan Page</em></a><em> on January 13, 2011. </em><br />
<br />
<em>A brand new blog post is in progress, so keep your eyes open!</em><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Let's Chat</span></strong><br />
<br />
This note has been a long time coming and after recent events, I finally decided, just this morning, to sit down and write it.<br />
<br />
I am approached with great regularity by those who have been burned in this music industry and/or are looking to get into the music industry. I guess, for whatever reason, people trust my experience (as meager as it may be), they believe that I care, and – more importantly, I am trusted. I have essentially become “sanctuary” for those who need moral support through their battles with the “Big Bad Music Industry”.<br />
<br />
Let me first say, the Music Industry itself is not “Big and Bad.” The Industry itself is saturated with those who would sooner rape you for your talent and leave you laying in a gutter, stripped of all faith, hope, and self respect. Extreme? Yup. But, true nevertheless. These people come in all types. They come in the guise of fellow artists, musicians, publishers, producers, record labels (real and fake), and – believe it or not – friends and fans. For every decent person in the industry, there’s at least 10 more out there looking to ride your coat tails and latch onto whatever prize might be in your future. They will tell you a million things – “you’re the best they’ve ever heard”, “you’re going to be a star”, “you’re welcome to talk to a lawyer, but you’d better hurry before we change our mind”, “we have ‘people’”, “Oh yeah, no problem, we have writers, you don’t have to know how to play an instrument”.<br />
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Look people, the day of the no-talent artist is gone (if there ever was that day). All these people out there that you have seen or heard that you think have no talent… well, listen again. These people are blessed with talent that so many of us (including me) could only begin to dream of. Lady Gaga? A no talent hack? TRY AGAIN! That woman is incredible! Go do some internet searches for Stephanie Germanotta…. Look familiar? Taylor Swift? Ok, girl hit a few bad notes, but the fact of the matter is that girl has more talent in her pinky finger as a songwriter than I could ever dream of. Nothing in the Industry is what it appears. Overnight stars rarely happen. And, by rarely, I mean one in a BILLION! These stars that seem to appear overnight have been practicing their craft for years and years and years – likely in small churches, dives, amusement parks, parties, and whatnot – where you would never think to look.<br />
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Now, with the onslaught of YouTube, USTREAM, Facebook and every other social network under the sun, these talented people are oozing forth from every nook and cranny. The competition is fierce. Have you actually stopped for a moment at a record store (guess what, they still exist), and taken a look at the racks and racks and racks of CD’s?! Seriously… it’s INSANE! You wouldn’t know they names of over half of them. Yet, each and every one of them have their very own devout fan base.<br />
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On that note, let me say to each and every one of my fans, friends, and family... I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I am so grateful for your love, for your support, for your trust. I hope never to let you down. I'm not perfect and, as I hopefully continue to climb this beautiful ladder of my life, I am sure that I will let you down in one way or another along the way, because I am only human. But, stick with me... I'm a work in progress and - one day - I hope to be someone you can look up to and say, "Look at her, she actually made it."<br />
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Look – for all those who are reading this, you’re reading it for one of two reasons. Either #1 – you’re just nosey and are trying to find out what happened with my former record label (please note paragraph 3), or, #2 – you actually give a shit about your career or the career of someone you love.<br />
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So here’s my take on it all. Do not expect to have your music career handed to you on a silver platter. Unless you have more money than Bill Gates, the likelihood of that happening is slim to none. It’s hard work. It’s something you have to be dedicated to and love with all your heart. Every day I sit here and work and work and work. I spend my hours singing, writing, learning, talking, and marketing. With all the work I put in, I have something to show for it, thankfully. But, I could have more if I put even more work into it. I just do the best I can with what I have. You reap what you sow people and Karma's a bitch.<br />
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No one makes it in this industry without paying their dues. You have to hit rock bottom and be ready to quit before you every successfully climb that ladder… but, you never really give up because the music is part of your soul and even when you decide to throw in the towel, you hold on to just a thread of hope because you know that you couldn’t live without the music. You will have to make sacrifices in your life. Just make sure that you’re making the RIGHT sacrifices. Remember that phrase, “it’s lonely at the top”? Well, it’s true… it’s very lonely. When you have sacrificed every important relationship in your life to make it, you will find yourself there with no one to pat you on the back except all the sharks I referred to in Paragraph 3. And remember what your parents told you, “You are the company you keep” and, “Guilt by association.”<br />
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Don’t sacrifice who you are to be who you want to be. Be you. Be honest. Be decent. Be SMART. Check backgrounds. Ask questions of others. Get references. DO YOUR HOMEWORK before dealing with anyone in the industry. If they are real, genuine, and valid – they will still be there after you do your due diligence. If they aren’t, then you’re better off without them.<br />
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Now, if after reading this, you decide you want to go sign up with some fly by night organization just because they tell you “shoot for the moon and you’ll land amongst the stars”, “you got it babe”, “here, sign this short form copyright assignment right here and we’ll take care of the rest”, “you’re going up, up, up”, or "you're gonna be BIG!" Well – go for it… but don’t come crying to me about it when you’re done. And, while you’re at it, I have some oceanfront property in Arizona that I can give you a really sweet deal on. Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-65991096209681239572011-02-06T05:57:00.000-08:002011-02-06T09:11:14.624-08:00Top Ten Reasons Fishing is Better than Sex!<h3 class="post-title entry-title"> </h3><div class="post-body entry-content"><em>This blog entry is a repost from July 6, 2010... as I sit here in the midst of winter, I long for the warmth of summer... With Puerto Rican blood flowing through me, I just LOVE the heat! And, the good Southern blood that flows loves camping and - of course - FISHING!!! </em></div><div class="post-body entry-content"><br />
</div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"><em>******************************************************************************</em></div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><u>DISCLAIMER</u></strong></em><br />
<em>This blog entry was written <strong>prior </strong>to the arrival of love of my life and soul mate... </em><br />
<em>Since then, I may have reformed my prior opinion... </em><br />
<em>Nevertheless, fishing still comes in a very close second!</em><br />
</div><div class="post-body entry-content" style="text-align: center;">****************************************************************************** </div><h3 class="post-title entry-title">Top Ten Reasons Fishing is Better than Sex! </h3><div class="post-body entry-content">1. You don't need a partner to do it.<br />
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2. You can do it with as many different people as you want, men and women, and no one will think your a slut.<br />
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3. If you catch something, you can throw it back... no antibiotics necessary.<br />
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4. You don't have to be embarrassed or come up with creative excuses if your kids find your stash of toys (boats, poles, reels, lures, etc.)<br />
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5. The more toys you have, the better it is (on the same token, partners don't freak out when you bring all your toys.)<br />
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6. You can do it in public.<br />
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7. You can do it no matter what your age and with partners of any age.<br />
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8. It doesn't matter if your forgot to shave.<br />
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9. Bragging is socially acceptable.<br />
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10. The size of the fish really doesn't matter.<br />
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***GONE FISHING*** </div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-488546246397804892.post-73384268777451553742011-02-05T12:42:00.000-08:002011-02-05T12:43:32.104-08:00Is it inappropriate to have a favorite child???<div class="post-header"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content"><em>This blog entry was originally posted on July 9, 2010. In honor of Kidlet #7's 8th Birthday, I have decided to resurrect it!!! </em></div><div class="post-body entry-content"></div><div class="post-body entry-content"> </div><div class="post-body entry-content"><strong>Is it inappropriate to have a favorite child??? </strong></div><div class="post-body entry-content"></div><div class="post-body entry-content">I mean, really, let’s review this concept. If you only have one child, then it’s impossible to have a favorite. With two children, it might be difficult. But, as the children multiply, it seems to me that a point in time comes when you realize that maybe you do, in fact, have a favorite!<br />
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Here’s the breakdown for me:<br />
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Kidlet #1 – This would be my daughter who passed at 5 months of age. That will have to be a blog for another day… It was an accidental death – not SIDS or any other medical condition. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her. And, with the anniversary of her death coming up, I think of her even more. She was my first and my life was forever changed by her for the better… my favorite for sure.<br />
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Kidlet #2 – My oldest child at home. My oldest boy. He’s 13. Absolutely EMO in every way – combination of being 13 and my child. Nevertheless, I get him. He gets me. We have a connection and a communication that I think will help keep him mostly out of trouble. He’s not afraid to talk to me about things that most kids are afraid to talk about with their parents. So, for that, I am grateful… Most definitely my favorite.<br />
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Kidlet #3 – My second oldest boy, age 11. He has a hearing impairment, but he manages to get by OK. He’s an absolute flake. I’m shocked most days that he can remember his own name. I’m pretty sure his roots are blond. That being said, this child is by far is probably my most intelligent. He can – without missing a beat – start discussing philosophy, history, or mythology over a campfire. His mind is always going. He is also the one who will step up and take responsibility when needed. If I say I need help – he is always right there without expecting any reward. Many time I have tried to reward him and he has outright refused. No question, he’s my favorite.<br />
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Kidlet #4 – The younger of my older kids, age 10. My sweet boy with Asperger’s Syndrome. I don’t get to cuddle him much as he doesn’t really like a lot of physical contact. He always keeps just enough of a distance from you to avoid the physical contact. But, he’s still a barrel of laughs. This is my funny kid. He likes to play jokes. And his laughter and smile can light up a room. The cutest little dimple in the world. He gets straight A’s and rarely gives me trouble. And, he’s SMART! Wow, this kid is just plain smart… it amazes me. TOTALLY my favorite.<br />
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Kidlets #5 & #6 – The identical twin girls!!! 8-years-old going on 20! These are my girls – they are spoiled rotten – cute as buttons – and TROUBLE with a CAPITAL T! They’re my girls!!! They let me dress them up, they borrow my hats and my earrings, I can do girl stuff with them and that is SO FREAKIN’ COOL!!!! I frequently call #5 the BRAIN and #6 the BRAWN. These two simply aren’t complete without the other… they are a team in every way. They can be fist fighting one minute, and the next minute head to head giggling over a book. I LOVE IT! The fact that they look just like me is a big ol’ bonus… These two are so completely my favorites!!!!<br />
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Kidlet #7 – My freckled faced 7-year-old boy with ADHD. While this one is my “challenge from God”, he’s also so full of love it’s ridiculous. He loves to snuggle. He loves to hug. He’s very affectionate. He laughs too hard. Smiles too big. And it’s wonderful! He has such an enthusiasm for EVERYTHING… I just love his enthusiasm… You just KNOW he's my favorite!!!<br />
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Kidlet #8 – My blond haired, blue eyed, cherub. The BABY! His smile could melt the polar ice-caps, give you cavities, and mend a broken soul. This child knows little malice – only love. Don’t get me wrong – he can be devious (as all 5-year-old boys are), but make no mistake, this child is a lover!!! AND ABSOLUTELY, WITHOUT A DOUBT, my favorite!!!!<br />
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Yup, I have a favorite… </div>Debbie Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15680440694227954960noreply@blogger.com0