Welcome Home

I woke up today in a very pensive state. Always grateful for another day. Another chance to get something right, but pensive nonetheless. After a bit of meditation, I felt that rather than putting my thoughts into a Vlog, that today it would be best to lay them out in written form. Here, I can take my time. I can be as verbose and tangential as I want. On paper, at least for me, I feel there are no time restrictions. I write as I feel, as it comes to me. It's been a hot minute since I've written a blog but I remembered that I can I write and share here without worrying if anyone cares to read it. I write for me and if someone out there takes something from it, that’s just the cherry on top. 

Also, I don't feel pressure to fix my face or my hair. I mean, I've already done both of those things, but really because I hadn't for the last two days and It's a self-care thing for me. I feel a bit better about myself. As one does when they finally shower after 2 days. Look, people. Life happens, and when you're busy not unpacking because you're too tired to care after the week you've had, and you have absolutely NO one you need to impress, even though your dog looks at you like, "Chick, you're a HOT mess. And not in a sexy, flirty kinda way."

Right. Where was I? 

Ah, yes...

I rolled, like a Ninja, into Texas a week ago today. No big sign indicating that I crossed over the border from Louisiana. No vocal greeting from Deborah (the name I bestowed upon my GPS) saying in her melodious  way, “Welcome to Texas.” 

Nope.

Nothing.

Nada. 

If anyone reading this has followed me at all on social media over the last decade or so, you would know that my life has gone through twists, turns, high highs, and lowest of lows. It has taken me a very long time to forgive myself for the choices I made when I was just trying to survive. I went through a slow awakening. One that had me finally trusting my own intuition. I now have an unwavering faith that everything that has happened and will happen is to help me grow and evolve into what I was always meant to. I questioned it for a looonnnnnng time. 

I’ve spoken about this before, but for most of my life, I believed I was put on this earth to perform. To entertain. Whether that be through dance, song, acting, writing. Anything creative I could get my hands on and project to the world was my drive. Now, don’t get me wrong. I still have the drive to soak up anything creative I possibly can. The difference is that I no longer believe that it is my sole purpose in this world to entertain the masses. 

I will always believe that what is not shared is lost. The talent you are given is your gift from God. What you do with it, is your gift back. That being said, I don’t think we are given just ONE sole purpose. We are here for many reasons that change and evolve as we change and evolve. What a beautiful thing that is to know. We are here but for a short time, yet we have SO much to give each other. The greatest gift I will ever give is my love. But to be able to do that I had to first learn to love myself.  

I am love. 

I’ve known this now for quite some time. My mission here has always been to spread that love and to help others to find their own light. Art is just but one way I am able to do that. 

There are so many different tangents I could veer off to from here, but I will try to keep this mess of thoughts reigned in and focused (*whispers* This is my way of reminding myself to focus). 

Another way is through spiritual, emotional and intellectual guidance.

Many moons ago I had this dream of creating a retreat that is very similar to the one that saved my life when I was a 15-year-old girl. That dream sat in the back of my mind for the last 20 yrs or so. Perhaps longer. In any case, the dream of creating a retreat for young adults who have lost a parent through death, divorce or abandonment slowly started getting louder over the last year and a half. I was part of a similar retreat as a teenager, and it saved me. It’s also where my best friend of over 30 yrs and I met. 

When she and I started talking about making this an actual reality, we talked about different locations where we could/should consider having these week-long retreats. The first, and for me, the most logical place was Tennessee. The climate, nature and landscape as well as the close proximity to Indiana (where I currently was), made sense. There were a few other factors, but those were the big ones. 

The second location was Colorado. Also for the climate, nature and landscape. We both have friends there that would love to be a part of this project. As we continued to discuss options there was one that kept coming back to me. Texas. I told myself when I moved from San Antonio to Indiana for work, that I would not go back there. It wasn’t safe where I lived. I LOVED the people that I worked with, but I missed seeing trees and grass and all I remembered seeing was dirt. 

I’m an Earth sign and a Pacific Islander. My blood needs a little bit more than...dirt. 

Moving on.

Once upon a time, I worked for a company whose headquarters were based out of Indy. I LOVED the company. I truly believed that’s where I was supposed to go. I believed that there would be a possibility of more opportunities open to me if I worked and lived where the company was based out of. That was literally my end game. I was set to spend my whole career working for Lids Sports Group. I was running a Locker Room in San Antonio when I got a call that they wanted to fly me to Indy to interview for a beta program they wanted to implement. Long story short, I interviewed for the position in front of a panel of 6 Executive Officers. I beat out 16 candidates and they relocated me to Indiana. I was SO stoked!! YES! Getting back to the changing of seasons! 

The job that took me there ended up getting scrapped after 6 months. 

I stayed in Indiana. Again, I believed that It was where I was supposed to be. So, I did what any crazy person does, and I opened a Dance Studio. I worked REALLY hard to make that dream come true. A dream I had had since I was a very young girl. I struggled for a long time with whether or not that was ever going to become a reality. Indiana wasn’t exactly my first choice to open one up in, but I was there so that MUST be where it was meant to happen. Ultimately I decided that I wasn’t getting any older, and if I didn’t do it now, then I was never going to. So, after 2 yrs of living and planning...I did. I told myself that this was everything I ever wanted, while also NOT unpacking most of my boxes, nor hanging up any pictures, nor really integrating myself into the community. I had one foot in and one foot out the door. Looking back I understand that I was never meant to stay there. My intuition whispering for me to listen. I didn’t know where I was meant to be, but there was a part of me that knew, deep down, that wasn’t Indiana. The reason that brought me there originally was gone and I was doing what I could with what I had at the time. I’m pretty adept at that.

Here’s how the rest of that story goes...

As all of this began to unravel, a different dream began to get louder and louder. The dream of starting the retreat, that was on the back burner, all of a sudden moved to the forefront. In addition to that, the two locales originally thought to be the top two choices started getting nudged out by a third. There is a place in Texas that would be the most ideal place to hold such a retreat. Not only is the place perfect, but the person who owns it also has visions that align with mine. When I discovered this fantastical piece of information about a year and a half ago, the pull to Texas started getting stronger. It wasn’t until right around October of last year when I made the final decision that I was going to move. The timing was right. My lease for my apartment was up at the end of February, the studio was inevitably going to close because I couldn’t recover from taking such a huge hit. I still had another year left on my lease, but there was nothing to say I couldn’t find someone to take over the lease. Or, at the very least hire teachers to take over classes for this last year and still run the business from wherever I ended up, then closing at the end of next year.

So, that’s what I did. I gave the Landlord of my apartment complex notice to vacate and started looking for teachers to take over. A true blessing came in the form of a kindred spirit named Myrisha Smith. When I met Myrisha, I knew that what was to transpire was the right thing. I felt it all the way through my soul. In the first meeting, I discovered that she has a dream to open her own studio as a Non-Profit to help kids who don’t normally have an opportunity to experience dance to be able to take classes. This spoke volumes to me. I was touched by how much we had in common. She began shadowing me and over the following 6 months, became an integral part of AMSDC. On my last night of teaching, we shared a hug and a LOT of tears as I handed her my keys to the studio. She currently has a financial mentor/grant writer working on the next steps, but I know that the safe space I created is now in the right hands. I am beyond grateful God brought her into my life.

When I actually made the announcement last week of what was happening, I had people asking questions and all I could do was giggle at my responses. Not everyone has the courage to follow their truth. But I tell you what, as scary as it is...well...there’s something so sublimely freeing about it all. 

Them: Where are you going to NOW?!

Me: Austin

Them: Why there? Did you get a new job or something?

Me: Nope. 

Them: You’re moving to Texas without a job?! Why?

Me: Why not? 

Them: That’s so scary! I don’t think I could ever do that.

Me: I can’t speak for you. Can only speak for me. And for me, this feels... right. *shrug* That’s all I’ve got, but it’s enough.

I don’t know what will come. That’s the beauty of this life’s journey. I have great faith that my retreat will become a reality at some point. My hope is that it will be where I envision it to be. I’ve seen it. It’s pretty amazing to visualize a dream coming true. They say that’s one of the first steps in manifesting. Time will tell. I will let that part unfold as it is meant to. Not blindly leaving things to chance, mind you. Just, trusting in God’s timing. 

Every morning, when He and I talk, the mantra “I will trust. I will trust. I will trust in you.” Repeats in my head and carries me through my day. 

Speaking of which, today is a bit overcast, but my view has beautiful trees, and squirrels and the sounds of doves calling each other across the breeze. Very different from my experience in San Antonio. There is a rightness here. A feeling of familiarity that is all at once strange and somehow...not. As I sit here at my kitchen table, in my new apartment in Austin, I am grateful for everything. ALL of it. The whole decade. I would never in a million years wish anyone to ever go through what I went through. Ever. I also would not change a thing. The trials, the tribulations. Because of them, I learned to love myself. Deeply. Truly. 

The heartache and oftentimes days of dark despair. Without them, I would never have found my light. Without them, I would not be able to help others to find their own. Because of them, I have learned to follow my truth wherever it may lead me. No matter what the outside voices say. My intuition now guides me and MY voice is the one I listen to. The choices I make for my life are just that. For MY life. I pray that you are able to find the courage and conviction to do the same.

Cheers to days past. Cheers to what’s to come. I turn my face to an open Texas sky. The endless horizon wraps me in a warm embrace and just as quietly as I rolled into town, it whispers…”Welcome home.”

Twenty Five...

 I am sitting here on this 25th anniversary of a brutal event that forever changed my life. Still, to this day, feeling responsible for not being able to prevent it. Logic tells me that as a 16 yr old girl, there was nothing that I could have done to have changed that night. It happened the way it was meant to, and there is no changing that. I spent my drive home from work tonight at the exact same time I was driving to her apartment all those years ago, and I was pondering what it was that I wanted to say from the feelings that this date always brings forth. They are as fresh a newly sliced open wound. On this night I am currently only a year younger than she was when she was ripped from this world and the one thing that I keep turning over and over in my mind like a broken record is, "Have I made her proud?"

Life in the last 25 years has been complicated and messy. Hard...hard...hard...but filled with some breathtaking and awe inspiring moments that I will never forget. I have loved, and I have lost. I have hurt and I have been hurt. I have been bruised, broken, displaced, misunderstood, judged, threatened, abused and have failed more times than I can count. Yet...

...yet here I stand. Here........I..........Stand.

Grateful for it all.

During my drive home, this song came on, and I allowed the tears that I had been holding back all day to fall. There are two different meanings I find in the lyrics, but I don't think there could be a song more perfect for how I feel right this minute. The story of the event I am referring to is posted under the video. Listen to this song (or don't) and then if you would be so kind as to read the rest. Then take a moment to reflect on how we are all here, with stories to tell that will connect us in so many ways. Take a moment...take a breath, and If you have the ability to help someone OUT of  a dangerous domestic situation, please do.

END THE VIOLENCE

In September of 1988 I was 14 years old. I had long thick naturally curly hair and Bert (Bert and Ernie) eyebrows. At the time I lived with my dad and my younger sister. I have an older sister but she’s 7 years my senior and was already out on her own by then. The guys were EVERYTHING to me. My parents had separated that summer and were well on their way to divorcing and my world was falling apart.

The days would continue to drone on and I would get shuffled back and forth between my dad who I lived with full time and my mom who I went to see every other weekend. Ahhh, Mom. My mom was a tiny little Filipino woman who was full of life and laughter and whom from I inherited my voice. It sure as heck wasn’t Dad. She had me singing and listening to Elvis Presley at the age of 3. Her favorite comedian was Whoopi Goldberg and I’d laugh every time she’d say her name because of her broken English, it came out “Goofy Goldberg”. I could rest my chin on her head when I hugged her. We’d dance around the apartment to NKOTB music. I would rock my black and white Adidas, my peace sign necklaces, and my Hardwear baseball caps. She’d always say, “Oh honey, that Donnie is a good looking boy. He’s so handsome.” And I’d giggle and say, “Glad you think so, cuz I’m gonna marry him.” Mom would say, “Okay honey, if you believe it, I believe it,” and so it would go… Mom believed in me, that’s all I needed.

In the summer of 1989 my Mom began dating a guy named Roger. He didn’t like us kids. I mean, chased my sister down the hallway with a shotgun, didn't like us. I mean, throw gasoline in my mother's face, didn't like us. If it was our weekend to be there he would find a way not to be, which was fine by me because the guy gave me the creeps. She would begin to give reasons why it wasn’t a good time for us to come over. It was hard to not be able to go to her when I was feeling down or convinced that I wasn’t talented enough. She was my drive, my reason for doing. She would come to every performance and sit in the front row. I looked for her. She gave me the strength to go on stage.

In September of 1990 I turned 16 and was very excited to get my license. I was a Junior in High School and well on my way to graduating early. I spent every waking moment in the music room. If I didn’t HAVE to be in class you would find me there, studying or working on choreography for our Swing Choir. I loved the little room with the piano. Picturing Jordan at the keys and hearing his voice in my head. I couldn’t play but I found just sitting at one messing with the keys was soothing. And so it would go…I was on my path to “stardom”. Singing “Fame, I’m gonna live forever…”

In December of 1990 Christmas was coming and there was debate as to where we were going to spend it. Mom said that Roger was going to be out of town visiting family. We were SO excited we could spend Christmas with Mom! It was going to be so sweet!

On December 19th I drove myself and my friend Amy, over to Mom’s - big shot that I was with my license and Dad’s car- to pick up a rosary I needed for Religion class the next day. (12 years of Catholic Schooling. OY! ) I had called before I left to make sure it was okay, and Mom said, “Sure, honey, anytime tonight.”
So I went after homework, It was 9:15p.m.when I got there (Yes, I most certainly remember the time). Singing NKOTB Christmas carols the whole way there. I think Amy stayed in the car while I ran in. That part is fuzzy. I knocked on the door and I heard Roger yell, “Come in!” I thought to myself, “Oh shit. I thought he wasn’t supposed to be here. Why isn’t he in Texas?”

I opened the door and there were beer bottles everywhere and he was sitting at the table in his tattered jeans and “wife beater.” He saw me and said, “Hey baby, you know how to play cards? Come over and sit on my lap and I’ll teach you how to play.” I will never forget the knot that formed in my stomach. I simply replied, “Where’s my Mom?” Roger hollered down the hall, “Maria! It’s your kid! The pretty one.” He proceeded to give me the nasty once over. I hadn’t seen my Mom in a while and she came around the corner, wearing a men’s long sleeved button down shirt, and that was it. Of course she was so tiny anyway it went to her knees and looked like a dress, and I remember thinking that she looked smaller than usual. Sick almost. She had her rosary in her hand. She had a very far away look in her eyes, and I said, “Mom, are you okay?” She just smiled sadly and gave me a hug and said, “ Everything’s fine honey, I love you.” She was so fragile, I thought she might break when she hugged me. I accepted her assurance as true and left. But something wasn’t right and I could feel it in my gut.

I kept telling my friend, I should go back, but she’d reassure me continuously and we went home, singing NKOTB the entire way. I couldn’t sleep that night, that feeling just wouldn’t go away, and at 3a.m. my Dad knocked softly on the door, opened it to see if I was awake and, I sat up, looked right at him and said, “She’s dead isn’t she?” He just said, “Yes.” I got up walked past him and out into the living room where the Christmas tree was lit up and Christmas music was still playing. The Christmas song came on, and Jordan’s voice sent me into a tailspin of tears. I couldn’t stop crying. I just sat, in the chair, staring at the tree, crying. I vaguely remember my dad was on the phone and people were starting to come over and I just stayed there. As the sun came up “What a Wonderful World” played on the radio, and I had no more tears left. That moment…I lost everything that ever mattered to me.

On December 19th, 1990 I went to visit my Mother not knowing that was the last time I’d ever see her again. I was the last one to see her alive. After I’d left the apartment Roger and my Mother got in a fight over the fact that I was there at all. That night, Roger raped and beat my Mother and left her naked, bruised body on the floor to die and went for a drink at his ex girlfriends house, claiming that that’s where he was all night. She was was barely hanging onto life...and he left thinking she was already dead.

On December 22nd, 1990 3 days before Christmas…I buried my hero.

Imagine, just for a second if you can, a 16 year old girl, sitting on the witness stand in a court room, watching, in silence, as images of her mother's bruised, battered and lifeless body flash across the screen of a TV in front of not only her, but a room full of strangers. I could not save her that night she was brutally taken. I was powerless. The only power I had was there, on that stand. To be her voice.

The bastard is serving a life sentence, thanks to evidence and my testimony that put him at the scene of the crime at the time of death.

Now, 25 years later and I still miss you as much as I did then, Mom. And I will love you for as long as this world allows me to be a part of it.

~AM

In a word: Compassion...

This morning I took my kids out to brunch at Village Inn before having to drop my son off to get ready for his first choir performance of the year.

As we were eating and Brandon was regaling me with tales from his play rehearsals and latest video game conquests, I was also watching the table behind him. A Mom, Dad, and 5 kids all under the age of 8. Three girls, a young boy and a toddler boy in a high chair.

The Mom and Dad were arguing about something. Not loud, but it was heated. Next thing I know the Dad gets up and says, "Let's go Girls." The three girls stand and leave with the Dad as the Mom says, "You can't leave me here. I have no way to pay for this."

The little boy starts silently crying as the Mom, with her back to me puts her head in her hands. The Dad comes back and bends down to argue a little more with the Mom, as the girls sit back down. A few minutes go by and both parents get up and leave the kids. A few more minutes roll by and their food arrives at the table. One of the little girls stands up, starts cutting food for the toddler, and the other kids start eating in silence and tears.

Fifteen minutes and still no parents. As my kids and I get ready to leave, I flag my waitress down and ask her to hand me their check. I stand up and the little boy looks at me with a trembling bottom lip and wipes his tears with the back of his hand, breaking my heart.

Our waitress grabs the ticket off their table, hands it to me quickly and I walk up to pay both checks. The young guy, who was their server, ends up ringing me up. As he does, he says, "Is everything okay? Do you know them?" I respond with, "Nope. I don't know them, but I'm worried about those kids and this is the only way I know how to help them in this moment." I pay, hand him money for his tip, and ask him to take extra care of those kids. Then I leave him with his mouth hanging open and my son saying, "Yup. That's my Mom. It's okay to be jealous. ;)"

We walked out, as the parents were walking back in.

I'm not sharing this story for accolades or a pat on the back. I share it because NO child should have to have that weight on their shoulders. I know what it's like to have to grow up fast. Maybe they will pay it forward, maybe they won't. Who knows? All I know is that my kids will remember that moment and will know what compassion means.

~AM

PKD Challenge: My Story...

June 5th, 2001 I gave birth to my second child. A beautiful baby girl. 10 fingers, 10 toes, and perfect in every way. A younger sister for my then 18 month old son. She will be 16 years old this year and is growing into a strong, ridiculously intelligent and talented young lady that makes me proud every single day.

About two months after I had her, during a post delivery checkup, my doctor and I decided to do an ultra sound just to make sure everything was okay. It was during that ultrasound when we discovered there were a plethora of cysts on my kidneys happily frolicking about. 

I was 26 years old, had just had a baby, another one at home and was just told I have a disease that could kill me. 

*blank stare* Thanks, Dad. You're the BEST! lol

Over the years, I have been very lucky that my creatinine level  has remained steady at a 1.4. It becomes Defcon 1 when it reaches 6.0 and means I've begun to go into renal failure.

I'll be going to the doctor in a few weeks for my annual checkup and I pray that it hasn't gone up. A lot has happened in my life in the last year, even more so in the last few weeks, that can effect the function of my kidneys. Although I handle stress better than most people (I'm a pretty laid back girl), it does not help this disease and blood pressure plays a HUGE part in that. It's a vicious cycle. High blood pressure can cause kidney function problems and when you already have kidney disease, high blood pressure can increase the damage already present in the kidneys, which in turn can cause heart enlargement and heart failure. Let me just take a short minute to explain how this greatly affects me.

I know absolutely nothing about my Mother's medical history, nor her family's. I take after my Father physically which helps to shed light on some things. PKD is a genetic disease. There are several members of my extended family who have it. I am the only one out of 3 girls that inherited this disease. One or both of my children may get it. If they by miracle don't, then the disease dies with me and their children, should they have any, will be spared.

I pray every day this disease dies with me.

But I have no intention of dying any time soon. It may help some understand why I have the disposition that I do. Why I try, EVERY day to see the good. Why I refuse to not be fully in the present moment, as good or as bad as they may be. Why I travel as often as I do, while I can. Before I'm on a dialysis machine 12 hours a week and can't. It is SO important to me to show my children that life is meant to be lived, and that what we do, how we give and love that FAR outweigh ANYthing else. Our connections with people. THOSE are what matters. I want to make a difference in someone's life. I want to continue to give as much as I can to this world because for me to leave it without adding happiness to it is, to me, a waste of this soul I posses. 

Most days, I feel pretty good. There are days when I am ridiculously tired, when one of my kidneys makes this disease present and accounted for. Nights when I am curled up in a fetal position hoping that the heating pad on my left side will ease the pain. However, you will never know it. One of my Assistant Managers (who has medical knowledge) said the other day when he found out, "You do?! You are the most upbeat, positive person I know who has it! Most people who have it are constantly sluggish, and tired all the time. You never stop MOVING!" I had no intention of telling him I had the disease, but after about the third time he asked if I wanted any coffee and I explained that - while I do so love coffee - I have to limit my daily caffeine intake. He asked the next obvious question, so I told him.

I do not believe in self pity and I do not choose to burden others. Ever. This applies to everyone in my life. It doesn't matter how close to me they are, or how much they know/don't know about me. People have their own lives to lead, their own demons to deal with, and I refuse to add to their darkness. I choose instead, to always be a light. If that makes me selfish, then so be it. Nor do I wish it to effect how people treat me at work. I am fully capable of doing the job I was hired to do, with or without my kidneys enlarging to the size of footballs. Not kidding.

This disease has no cure. Only treatment. Diet, dialysis, transplants. These are all treatments. NOT cures. It is inevitable that my... kidneys... will...fail. I hope to hell that doesn't happen any time soon. I'm a stubborn soul, born of stubborn stock. I rarely ask for help, choosing instead to handle things on my own.  If I ever ask anything of anyone, it means it's important enough for me to set my pride aside. 

So, I humbly ask you this...

Please educate yourself about this Polycystic Kidney Disease, donate to the PKD Foundation as we search for a cure, help spread awareness, and become an organ donor...become a LIVING donor. 

The life you save, could be mine. 

#LOVEANDLIGHT

~Ann Marie

That's What I do...

Last night at my 4th Men of the Strip show, I was interviewed for
the reality show they are currently filming. Whether or not they use
anything I said is irrelevant to me. It did however, make me stop
and realize, that I don't think I've really told anyone, why it is I
support them as fiercely as I do. I don't even think the guys understand.

For those who don't know, Men of the Strip is a whole new male
revue show re-imagined and brought to life by Mike Foland (The
Cowboy), Glenn Packard (The Creator) and of course Jeff
Timmons (The Presenter). I lovingly refer to them as my "Power3".
I don't know why, exactly. Other than they are the boss men and I
think "Brought to you by Power3 Entertainment" has a nice ring to
it. Just sayin'.

There's also a funny story involving Power Rangers, but that's not
important at this moment in time. lol

Before I go any further though, I would like to politely request that
you please not refer to me as a "Super Fan". The term makes me
feel slimy. Like one step away from a "Groupie" and I am about as
far away from being anyone's groupie as you can get.

In this case I prefer the term: Dream Enabler.

My bestie will be the first to tell you that that's an accurate term for
me. I have a thing about supporting people who are trying to make
a dream a reality. I fall in love regularly with people's passions, and
I think from the moment I saw my first show, I knew I was jumpin on
this train and riding it til the end.

The guys may remember meeting me at that show, and they may
remember watching me in the audience. And when they read this,
they're gonna stop and think, "Oh, yeeeeah. She DOES do that."
Or, they may not pay attention to me at all during the show, and I'm
just talking outta my ass. Either is believable. lol

I wasn't sure what to expect at that first show. When my bestie,
Mel, asked me if I wanted to go, I thought it sounded like a shady
venue and we were gonna get shanked on the East side. Jeff
assured us it was safe, so I thought, "What the hell. Why not?" It
was my first male revue show, ever. I'm far from prudish, but it was
never something that really interested me. In my mind, if a guy
can't dance like Channing Tatum, then what's the point? lol Always
in honesty. I'm a dancer. That's just how my brain works.

I'm an observer and a thinker. I watch. I take things in. I remember.
I analyze. I observed that show and every show since then, from a
creative standpoint. They may notice that I'm always in the back.

There are reasons for this...

One) I was at a table in the front for the first show and I feel like I
should let those who have not had the experience to be able to be
up front.

Two) I can't watch the audience from the front. One of my favorite
things to do at ANY concert/show is to watch the audience. I love
to watch crowd reaction.

Three) More dance space. I never sit. I'm a dancer. I dance. lol

I have had the opportunity to talk and connect with these guys a bit
throughout the shows and I am proud to be able to say that they
are really genuine, down to earth, sweet guys. THAT in itself is a
rare, rare thing, in my world, and is just another reason why I'm on
this train.

One of the questions I was asked last night was, "Who is your
favorite and why?" My answer was two-fold.
I said, "Mike is my favorite. He's very good at his job. He knows
how to work a crowd and how to make every woman in the room
feel beautiful. And he's SO charming and SO sweet." I would've
gone on to say how funny, smart and business savvy he is. How
well (he may debate this) he wrangles the guys and handles all the
details to make sure they're taken care of. How he has a strong
work ethic which I greatly admire and how he has a very generous
and pure heart...buuuuuuuut whenever someone mentions Mike,
my cheeks get hot and I get flustered and shy. So, that happened
on camera and the first part of this is as far as I got before I had to
change gears.

So then I said, "As far as the dancers go? Chris. Chris is my
favorite. I'm a choreographer by trade and I gave Chris the (nonexistent)
best dancer award because I think he does the best job
at executing the choreography. I know he worked hard to get it
right. And... have you SEEN him?"

They then asked me, "How do
you feel about him not stripping to a g-string and instead stripping
to boxer briefs?" My response to that was, "That doesn't matter.
Women need to be seduced, and the fact that he's in boxer briefs
and not a g-string, shouldn't matter. And he's friggin chisled. I
mean, have you seen him?!"

OFF stage, Chris is someone I could probably sit and talk to for
hours. Easy to talk to and very approachable. Makes a point to
come hug me after the show is over and everything is winding
down for the night. We had a nice chat in FL and another last night.
He's just the kinda guy I like to talk to. Like my brothers.

Kyle, Keith, Chris, Nate, and Joel. They sing and dance and
sometimes with all of their clothes ON. Gasp! Whaaaat? It's true!
Don't believe me? Then get your ass to a show! Each one of them
has distinct Alpha personalities that lend to the excitement and
experience of the show. It's gonna be hard for me when they add
the additional members, because I've already connected with
these guys. I'm invested in these guys.

There has been a lull in the boyband world for us Blockheads and I
think it has given Men of the Strip the wings it needs. A lot of
NKOTB fans have gotten their boy band fix at these shows and
already have their "favorite guy." The timing for sort of a "grass
roots" approach to building a strong fan base that will invest in
making the trip(s) to Vegas when they take up residency could not
have been better for them. EVERYthing happens for a reason. You
may not know what the reason is at the time, but IN time the
reason will reveal itself.

Do they strip down to g-strings? Yup. Do all of them? Nope. And
that's okay. Do they go out into the audience and dance with
women? Yup. It's an interactive show, kids. Are they ridiculously
beautiful male specimens who work hard to achieve the bodies of
Gods? Without question. Will they give individual lap dances? Yup.
Will they entertain you and leave you fully sated and satisfied?
Abso-fucking- lutely.

Here's the thing. It goes beyond that for me. I see 5 guys, who
really love to entertain and are not afraid of the work required to be
able to do so. I see a choreographer's vision. I see the passion
when they get on stage and I see their hearts, when after all is
said and done. When they're tired and hangry and just want to
shower, eat and go to bed, yet they take the time to talk to the
fans, take pictures and sign things.

I will continue to go see my boys live their passion, because I
believe they have the talent, drive and the determination to make
the brand they're building, bigger than life.

I have a soft spot for the underdog and will root for the dark horse
every time. I will be there to dance and sing and cheer them on for
as long as I can. I don't do it expecting a damn thing. I have ZERO
sense of entitlement in my life. I do not do things expecting to get
something in return. Period. I'm not built that way. Those who know
me, know that is as true a statement as any. Being a witness to
someone's dream coming true is like a drug for me. It makes me
ridiculously happy to see someone's hard work pay off. I
appreciate a strong work ethic, as I have one myself.

I am proud of these guys. I am blessed to know them as individuals
and as one helluva team. They work hard and put on an AMAZING
show! If you haven't seen them yet, go to Vegas. I guarantee you
will not be disappointed. Watch their reality show when it premiers
sometime Memorial Day weekend, and perhaps get a glimpse into
what I see. These 5 guys with hearts of gold working hard at
pursuing their passion and literally living their dreams.
Everyone needs a witness to their lives, I am just honored to be
one of many witnesses in theirs. If you want/need me I'll be the one
in the back, dancing her ass off, cheering them on as loud and as
often as possible.

Because that's what I do. I enable dreams...

Thank You...

I am half Filipina. The rest of me is a stubborn German with an Irish temper. That half was lovingly bestowed upon me by my Father. A strong, proud, simply complicated man. He had three living daughters (later in life I would come to learn he actually had 4) and when I was a little girl, I was the son he'd never had.

I would sit in his workshop for hours alone, listening to a little radio and building model airplanes. He would occasionally come and check on me to see how I was doing and to help me paint and put the decals on. My attention to detail was formed in those hours.

We would go in the back yard with a bat, ball and glove as he taught me how to throw and hit and catch. It would come in handy later when I played little league. Only girl on an all boy team was fun. lol

He taught me how to fish. We'd take my grandpa Leo's fishin' boat out at 4AM and sit in companionable silence. Cast our lines, watch the water like glass and listen to the boat follow the slow waves. I would watch him go from being deep in thought to being a 6yr. old the second we had a fish on the line. If we didn't catch anything, we would crack open a can of sardines, spread butter on some crackers and that would be our lunch. For a few weekends leading up to his death, he went out fishing alone. Mom and I believed he knew what was going to happen. 

He taught me how to throw a football. That would come in handy later in High School when I managed the football team.

He also taught me how to cook and bake. Mom was great at cooking Filipino food, but didn't know a lot of American dishes and didn't know how to bake. Pops and I would stand side by side at the stove and I would mimic him. To this day, I cannot cook without a towel over my left shoulder. He always had one on his right, but I'm left handed so that felt awkward to me.

He would drive me to dance classes 45 minutes each way, just because he knew how much I loved to dance.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"All you need is duct tape and WD-40 and you're set. But if you can't duct it, then fuck it..call me and I'll come fix it." Being the engineer he was, that man could fix just about anything.

I am SO much my Father's daughter. I have his gait, and his height. The moles on my face are from him. I purse my lips when I'm working on a project and contemplating something. I can have an intimidating presence about me when I walk into a room that demands the business side of me to be shrewd. And let's not forget the two bum kidneys he lovingly gave me. lol He would often say, "Well, ya can't say I never gave you anything." 

I know how to change my oil, and change a tire. I know the difference between a Phillips and a flat head and I never shy away from manual labor of any kind. 

Thursday, August 29th, 2013 Pops was driving home from work when he was having trouble breathing. He pulled into a Casey's and called 911. By the time they got to him he was slumped over the steering wheel, not breathing. His heart had given out. They worked on him for 40 minutes and brought him back. I will never forget that phone call. I was at my son's first football game. The only one I was going to be able to go to and had to leave to rush to the hospital. 

It was a VERY long weekend of uncertainty. Although, Mom and I both knew. The second I first walked into the room...I knew. They had him in an induced coma and on a ventilator. On Sunday, September 1st (His Mother's birthday), Mom and I made the decision to let him go. My sisters had a hard time accepting it, but we knew it was what he would've wanted. He had been fighting for so long, and his body was so tired. It was time for us to fight for him.

When we took him off of the ventilator, it was just me, my two sisters and Mom in the room. We listened to him with his labored breath, continue to try and fight. I finally leaned over the bed, took his face in my hands, and with tears streaming down my face said, "Thank you. Thank you for EVERYthing. It's okay Daddy. It's okay...you can go. It's time to go now." 

A tear slid down out of his right eye, he looked right at me and with his face in my hands, took his last breath.

I had been given that moment to thank him for my life and I will NEVER forget it.

69 Facts About Me...

This is a hashtag that was trending on Twitter and I decided to just blog it, so I don't go to Twitter jail. It was  a hard list to come up with, since I can't see anyone wanting to know any of this crap. I did it anyway. lol Enjoy!

#1) I’m left handed.  However, the only things I do with my left hand are write, eat and shoot. Everything else I do right handed. (Cut, throw, etc.)

#2) I was born on Shaw Air Force base in Sumter, SC

3#) I went to kindergarten in Wiesbaden, Germany where we lived for 6 yrs.

#4) Purple and orange are my favorite colors. I love how they blend 

seamlessly in the sky at the end of a day.

#5) I love super heroes. Captain America is my favorite Marvel hero and Batman is my favorite DC hero.

#6) I played little league baseball as a kid. I was the ONLY girl on the team.

#7) When I was 18, I auditioned to be a Playboy bunny. Made it to the local top 10 auditions before I backed out. The idea that my Dad and brothers might see the pictures made me change my mind about going any further.

#8) I like to climb trees but am afraid of heights. Yeah, I don’t get it either. Lol

#9) I can’t eat spicy food.  I have a very sensitive palette and if I take one bite of anything spicy, I can’t taste anything for the rest of the day.

#10) I love to fish, but haven’t been in many years. My dad and I used to go in my grandpa’s fishin’ boat at 4am when the water’s like glass. I think it’s where I became enamored with being awake late at night into the wee small hours of morning.

#11) I spent 12 years in Catholic school, but once Dad remarried we spent more time in the Lutheran Church. Gloria Dei. Johnston, IA where they got married. 

#12) The rosary I’m holding in my NOH8 picture is the one I went to go get from my Mom the night she was murdered.

#13) I have polycystic kidney disease.

#14) I’m half Filipino and the rest of me is a stubborn German with an Irish temper. It actually takes a LOT to make me angry, but when It happens…run. Lol

#15) I have a younger sister, two older half-sisters (one I have never met) and two younger step brothers.

#16) I love to see brightly colored flowers, but never like getting flowers from anyone because watching them die makes me too sad.

#17) I used to sit in my Dad’s workshop alone for hours, listen to music and build model airplanes as a kid.

#18) I managed the varsity football team in high school. I still love football. 

#19) Valentine’s Day is my least favorite holiday, because I don’t believe that you should wait for a special occasion to tell/show people how much you love them. 

#20) I had another older sister who died when she was 3 months old. Her name was Anna Lisa. I am her namesake. Her grave was swept away during a volcano eruption in the Philippines. My Father never speaks of her.

#21) I hit like a dude.

#22) My first job was as a waitress in a Chinese restaurant when I was 13 years old. My Grandparents on my Dad’s side helped me get the job. I looked like I could be related to the owners so no one ever questioned it. I’ve been working ever since.

#23) I haven’t had a soda since last October.

#24) I do crossword puzzles in pen.

#25) I’m a dog lover but have nothing against cats.

#26) I don’t watch much TV.

#27) I  once played the ditsy character, “Poopsie”, in a stage production of Pajama Game, but the director told me, “ You need to use your sex appeal to play this character because no one is going to believe you’re ‘ditsy’”.

#28) People always judge me before they get to know me.

#29) I’m a night owl AND a morning person. It’s between the hours of 3-5PM when I’m pretty much useless. Lol

#30) Making chocolate chip cookies from scratch is one of my specialties.

#31) I almost always feel cold.

#32) Being near water is my favorite thing in the entire world. Although, I could also watch a fire dance for hours too. 

#33) I am perpetually 6yrs old.

#34) I don’t like whipped cream. At ALL.

#35) I don’t like chocolate cake.

#36) I wear glasses at night when I drive, or when my eyes are really tired, 

but don’t need them otherwise.

#37) I have a collection of Christmas teddy bears kept in storage bins.

#38) My family forgot my 16^th birthday because it surrounded my older sister's first wedding. Sadly, I never got Jake Ryan.

#39) When the kids were really little, I had an opportunity to sign and model for Elite Modeling agency’s Plus Size division (I fluctuate between a size 10&12, but that’s considered plus size for some stupid reason), but it required I move to NYC, and my (now ex) husband refused to move us and the kids because he didn’t believe I was pretty enough to get any work. So I had to let go of yet another dream. 

#40) I don’t drink and have never been drunk.

#41) I don’t smoke.

#42) I don’t have a favorite movie.

#43) I graduated from high school one of the youngest in my class.

#44) My nickname is Cheese, and has been for years, for more than one reason and none of them have to do with gas. ;)

#45) I used to have a giant poster of Freddy Krueger above my bed, in my pre-teen years, because I thought he was hilarious and not scary.

#46) I don’t like horror movies. Real life is scary enough for me.

#47) When I was going through my divorce I worked 3 jobs, including delivering newspapers in the middle of the night. I am a workhorse. 

#48) My brain is a virtual jukebox. It has music constantly playing on rotation.

#49) I love all music except for death metal and some classic rock rubs my ears the wrong way.

#50) I love hard and with everything I have. I don’t do anything halfway.

#51) Idle and I are not friends. I prefer to always be moving.

#52) I hate shopping.

#53) I’m 5’8” tall and my legs are 42” long from hip to toe.

#54) I have ridiculously high arches and wear a size 10 shoe.

#55) Nat King Cole is my favorite crooner.

#56) I truly believe that my bestie is one of the smartest people I have ever 

known .

#57) I don’t like raisins unless they’re in Raisin Bran.

#58) I’m both a coffee AND a tea drinker.

#59) I sucked my thumb until I was 7.

#60) I’m a hugger. Like, full 20 second, hug love back into you kinda hugger. Ask anyone who’s hugged me. They’ll tell you.

#61) I learn and retain things wicked fast.

#62) I don’t like a lot of sauce on my food.

#63) The smell of cologne/perfume gives me a headache and am not attracted 

to guys who wear it. I don’t wear any perfume, only scented lotion.

#64) I suffer from Seasonal depression.

#65) I like square shaped jewelry as opposed to circle and I don’t like gold.

#66) It Is virtually impossible to surprise me.

#67) I have never had a dance partner who truly knows how to lead.

#68) I dance in the rain every chance I get and have been doing so since I was in first grade.

#69) When I was 18, I won a karaoke contest, for singing “Independence Day” by Martina McBride. The prize was a studio recording session in Nashville. I never cashed in the prize.