Life Inspirations – Life Influence

A few months ago, I was following a spirited little feisty mama on Facebook doing juice cleanses for people. I was curious, but not enough to ask or try it for myself until earlier this month when I saw a former co-worker do it. That was the push I needed to finally do it. I had many excuses not to do it. I had many important reasons to do it. March was a difficult month for me physically as I was sick for the majority of it and my body was filled with two sets of anti-biotics, inhalers, and other meds. I’m also overweight. My BMI is more than I care to share and it is because of an inconsistent workout, inconsistent diet, and sitting for long periods of time – all of which are my fault.

So on Sunday, April 19, 2015, I met with Gee Gee Garcia to pick up my 3-day juice cleanse. I had no idea what I was getting into. I saw 18 mason jars gently plopped in front of me with directions of how often to drink, what to begin my day with, and what to end my day with. I felt overwhelmed and inspired by the time Gee Gee and I parted ways and looked forward to it.

Before I tell you about my journey, I wanted to give a little background on Gee Gee. I went to her home to watch her in action and pick her brain after I finished my cleanse. Gee Gee has been juicing for years from her Ju-Tox days. She’s always juiced for herself but it wasn’t until January 2015 that she started doing it for others. Little did she know how much of an impact it would be

In 2010, Gee Gee was in a terrible car accident. She was t-boned and the impact reversed the vertebrae in her neck. Had the impact been harder, she would’ve been paralyzed from the neck down. During her time of physical therapy, she was on a lot of meds, gaining weight and feeling bogged down. Her small frame could not handle it. She started taking matters into her own hands and researched natural ways to heal, restore, and reclaim her body. That’s when she came across a raw food diet. She decided to try it for 60 days to see if this was the change she was looking for.

The closer you are to your goal, the more violent the opposition

Just when she was about to start, Gee Gee received news that her sister was diagnosed with cancer. Gee Gee packed up her things and went back home to California to take care of her for a few months. It worked out for both of them and their mother to try this raw food diet together. It helped for accountability amongst them, and beneficial to their health. Gee Gee admitted the first two weeks were not easy. Her body went through what is called a healing crisis , which was painful at times but she endured it because the body is designed to heal itself. After two weeks of rashes, eczema, and other toxins leaving her body, her body accepted the new diet. To this day, Gee Gee has not had any problems with eczema!

Ladies: Gee Gee had fibrosis in her twenties and had to have a blood transfusion and dealt with an unpredictable cycle. Since she has changed her eating lifestyle, her cycle comes every 28 days like clockwork and she does not get any discharge. Just thought I’d put that out there.

This one-woman show is passionate about juicing. She is passionate about her product and her brand. Gee Gee is very hands on. She buys the produce, she comes home and prepares them (washing, cutting, slicing, etc). Then she jars and brands them. You see the positive energy she puts into every order and the vibrancy in which she does it. Everything is organic and fresh. She believes nutrition and fitness are the marriage of a healthy lifestyle. “We need to be accountable and tell the truth about food. Disease starts in the mouth. All these people that are sick, what are they eating?”

Gee Gee’s short-term goals are to take her business on the road. She wants to go to cities/states that have high obesity rates like California, Louisiana, Tennessee, Chicago, and Florida to name a few and have juice mixers to teach and show a better lifestyle and how to do it.

So back to me. I was a virgin cleanser and didn’t know what to expect. I knew I had toxins and to expect frequent bathroom runs, but that was it. I was looking forward to giving my stomach a rest. Little did I know what else I would endure over the next few days. Please note, this is not everyone’s journey – JUST MINE! Every person is different and it depends on what is inside of them.

Day 1: Weigh in 160lbs. I was also on my cycle that decided to come a week early but overall, I was in good spirits. I woke up and drank a cup of hot lemon water. At 7am, I drank jar #1 at which was green. As I popped open the lid, I looked at it and thought here goes nothing and took a sip. I was surprised that is was delicious. Her combo of fruits and veggies was equal and light and easy to drink. I happily gulped it down and packed up the other jars to take with me to work.

My drive to work of course was extra long so by the time I arrived to the office, I literally was running inside to the nearest bathroom. It was also during my commute to work that I realized I could not have coffee! At 8:55am I was sleepy. At 9:25am I got a burst of energy and an intense bowel movement. My body went through a roller coaster that day and my stomach definitely had words with me. A dull headache was showing up due to the lack of caffeine. I was drinking a new jar every two hours and each jar was different and just as surprisingly good.

By the end of the day, I noticed two things: 1. I wasn’t hungry like I thought I would be. 2. I needed to bring lotion with me for the many times I went to the bathroom and washed my hands. I thought overall, Day 1 was a very successful day.

Day 2: Day 2 was my worst day. I had very low energy, I was very cranky and irritable, and that dull headache was still around. It didn’t help that I could not take any over the counter meds for. I was so moody that I closed my office door and cried my eyes out. It felt like being on my cycle was magnified 100%. However ladies, I noticed my cycle was bright red. It had been years since I saw it look so red and fresh. I did not have any cramps and I did not have a migraine (a migraine is very different from a headache). I continued drinking my juices in the order and on time anyway. My movements were no longer intense I guess because it was getting the last of the solid food out of me. The hellacious part of Day 2 came that evening when I made it home and took a shower. I scratched my skin for 2.5 hours. I text Gee Gee with all sorts of questions and that’s when she told me about the healing crisis and that my body was going through withdrawal and I would have to deal with it. That was the first time and I hope the only time I will ever scratch myself to sleep.

Day 3: I woke up feeling like I was reborn! The dull headache was gone and so was the itchy skin. I had marks on my body from the scratches though. I finally felt energy and went for a morning walk. I found myself smiling! I went through the day drinking the juices and even considered going longer but said naaaah! When I finished the last jar, it was such a feeling of accomplishment and such a reward for my body. It felt renewed and refreshed.

The next morning, I went to the gym and went straight to the scale to weigh in and nearly passed out when I saw it say 153lbs. I couldn’t believe this worked. I am now a believer in how this works. It has changed my mindset on how I look at food and my body intake. It makes me look at my self worth and how I see myself now and how I want to see myself in the future. I’m turning 40 in a few weeks. I only look like a spring chicken but I want my body to stay fit for as long as possible.

Gee Gee’s website will go live soon. Look for it at www.VitaminG2Vitalit.com. In the meantime, you can find her on Facebook or email her at vitaming2health@gmail.com. She has various packages to choose from. Look out for her summer juice cleanse. It is guaranteed to cleanse and hydrate and from what I hear, it is even more delicious than her year round cleanse!

Now that I have a better understanding of what goes on in a juice cleanse, I will continue it on a monthly basis in addition to healthier eating. Personally, I think this path will help my body rid of most of the allergies and ailments I’ve suffered for most of my life. I’m ready for the change. Are you?

Au Naturale Show

I received a text from my homegirl asking if I wanted to help out her family and be a hair model at the Bronner Brothers Natural Hair Show 2014 August 2 – 3, 2014. I said sure!

                                                       

Then the panic set in.

I bombarded her with questions. What time? Where? What should I wear? Do I have to wash my hair?

My answers from her were limited as she told me only what she knew. 11am, park here; go there; no big need to wash your hair unless you really need to. OK, cool.

I’ve never been to a hair show and I admit, never had the desire to go. I barely fuss over my own hair on a daily basis, so what was the point of looking at others? Well I was truly mistaken. When I arrived at the Georgia World Congress Center, there were people of all ages from little girls to distinguished gentlemen and a few – ahem – different ones in between.

 

                                  

I arrived at the Ossat booth and met all parties involved. After a little wait, Bekky washed my hair, treated it and styled it all while cameras were flashing and rolling and doing an interview. Bekky wasn’t fazed. I personally forgot to keep smiling and being personable to people as I was much more interested in my surroundings and picture taking. I realized by the end of the night that I have no interest in being a model. It requires too much talking and smiling. Too much energy.

           

                                                  

All in all, it was a great experience. I give hairstylists so much more credit for their knowledge, creativity, and passion for all types of hair. Thank you Bronner Brothers for opening my eyes to this industry. I just might revisit again…maybe.

 

              

After posting some of these pics on social media, my other homegirl posted this pic and said it best!

                                                          

Death to Silence

I’ve been quiet for a while for so many reasons. I worked a lot of hours. I was tired when I got home. I lost my voice. I didn’t have anything interesting to talk about. I lost interest in myself. It didn’t matter that I would talk to my friends and say something quirky or cute and they would tell me that would be a great topic to talk about. It just didn’t stick. Nothing stuck

And then a visitor knocked on my family’s door.

My Uncle had been suffering with brain cancer since 2009. Here’s the backstory: My Dad had leukemia. He needed a bone marrow transplant and his youngest brother donated his and it was a success. That was September 2009. New Years Eve of that year, I received a call from my Aunt that Uncle was not doing well and she was taking him to the ER. Shortly after that, brain cancer was the diagnosis. While my Uncle started undergoing treatment, my Dad’s health was slowly deteriorating. March 6, 2010, my Dad passed away. It was the first time I heard that flat line sound for someone I loved. It was the first time I held a body until it turned cold. My Uncle could not attend Dad’s funeral due to his health issues, but sent a soulful letter to be read describing their relationship and sadly saying his goodbye. It was heartbreakingly beautiful.

Fast forward to 2014. Through the years, I visited with my Uncle as often as I could. I sometimes wrote letters and called until the only response I heard over the phone was his breath. It was hard to see again another man in my family deteriorating before my very eyes. If you know me, you know about my Uncle and his family and what they mean to me so when I received the call on Sunday, April 27, 2014 that he only had 24-48 hours to live, I jumped in a car and drove the 5.5 hours from Atlanta, GA to Biloxi, MS. I was going to be with my second family – my second Dad. April 28, 2014, we witnessed my Uncle take his last breath and the old wound from my Dad’s death felt fresh once again. I couldn’t escape my grief and I couldn’t capture my peace. He had a well-deserved military burial later that week and we did what we should do – we moved on.

Once more, that visitor knocked on our door.

My cousin called me June 11, 2014 to tell me our Grandmother was ill and that she was taken to the ER. The doctor diagnosed her with having diabetes at the age of 94 and sent her home with medication to rest. Then my cousin called me back one minute later to tell me that she passed away. My Grandmother – mother to my Dad and Uncle. The Matriarch of our family – is now gone. My anger was speechless. My shock was loud. I couldn’t release any grief or tears at work because I was numb. My Mom told me to keep it together and pull from my Grandmother’s strength until I got home. She was right.

When I finally arrived home, I opened a bottle of red wine, drank four glasses, and cried myself to sleep. I allowed all of my grief and other emotions to have their place and space and I let it all out. Here’s the thing: I’m not dating anyone. I’m not even casually dating but I’ve always had a vision for my wedding day. I always wanted to get married in Jamaica so my Grandmother could be in attendance. Another one of my Uncles (who is a Priest) was going to marry my betrothed and I, and my Dad walk me down the aisle. Once Dad passed, I immediately placed my Uncle in my Dad’s position. I still thought I had time and that it was still a great plan. But within a month, I’ve lost my other two major components of my plan. I was devastated. While I wailed in grief for them, I grieved for myself because I’m not where I want to be. My plan will not come to fruition with them gone. Where is my husband? Where are my kids? Where is my house? Where is this life I envisioned? Will it ever happen?

The next morning I woke up with a hangover, crusty eyes, and cotton-mouth. No tears were left. I was at peace. I said my prayers and left it with God. In 9 days, I travel to Jamaica to bury my Grandmother. After it is all over, my life will be what it will be. I will strive to live it to the fullest. I will do what I was born to do. I finally broke the silence and here I am today. Writing again. Another chance to do what I love. Another moment to share my heart with you. How many times do we receive chances? Each time a chance appears, do we take it or shy away from it? My angels are talking to me and I’m listening. I’m not getting any younger and I have to live my life. What will it take for you to live yours?

Rest in Peace to my Angels: Raphael McIntyre (Dad), Rhoan McIntyre (Uncle), and Mary McIntyre (Grandmother). Thank you for your life, your love, and your legacy.

                                                                                           

Zoo-Bee-Doo-Bee-Doo

About two Fridays ago, I went to Zoo Atlanta. I was so excited once I got there, that I nearly knocked  a kid over in the parking lot. My inner child was up and present. You know that inner child you suppress when you become an adult? It rises up at different times like when you’re with children, or at the circus, or at the height of an argument with someone and you’ve lost all sense of reasoning.  For me, it’s the zoo.

The sun was scorching that day but I didn’t care. There were animals to see and little information cards to read how extinct they were. Once I had my ticket and paper navigational system (my map), I was ready to go and couldn’t wait to get inside to begin my mini adventure in the concrete jungle.

  

Well, wasn’t I disappointed! Either it was too hot and unbearable for the animals to function, or they all decided to take siesta. Only the elephants were active.

 

The rest…

 

I walked into a huge birdcage to look at the beautiful birds but once I saw this sign, I exited quickly.

 

I returned to take a picture of the sign just for you guys and ran back out again.

After seeing one animal too many taking their beauty nap, I decided I had enough and was going to exit the zoo to take my own nap. My inner child was cranky, tired, and wanted a slice of cheese pizza and a coke from Fellini’s Pizza.

Overall, I enjoyed seeing the animals even if I couldn’t get a great view of the King of the Jungle himself (his siesta was muy importante). I look forward to the day when I have children and can bring them here to experience it through their eyes.

And after my last slurp of coke and nibbles, I came to share my day with you on Marcia Scribbles.

Ciao

World Traveler In One Night

I’m exploring Atlanta more and I must say, I am enjoying it.

The summer has been strange. In addition to the normal scorching heat, it has rained practically every day. No really…every day for the past, oh say twenty days. Somewhere, some part of Georgia is going to get some rain and I don’t mean a trickle either. We are either getting rolling thunderstorms while the sun is still out, or mini monsoons. It’s annoying but eh, at least I’m safe and the Earth is cooling off.

It was one of these cool evenings that my friend, Tara and I decided to get a bite to eat at Surin of Thailand, which is a great place for Thai food in the wonderful Virginia Highlands. After we finished eating, I still wasn’t satisfied. First we were a little shocked that they didn’t have a special hot Thai coffee to sip and savor after our meal (they only had instant – gasp!) and our second shock was our server’s name was Nelson. Nelson? He didn’t look like a Nelson. I wanted to know what was his birth name but he just continued to smile and say Nelson.

I digress.

I had a brilliant idea for us to get some gelato from a quaint spot nearby called Paolo’s Gelato. To be honest, theirs is the first and only gelato I’ve tasted and I’ve been told that it is the best in town, so since I have nothing to compare it to, I’m going to roll with that statement as well. Gelato is the Italian version of ice cream but to me, it seems creamier and I’ve heard is 1/3 less fat (for those of you with a sweet tooth but want to pretend to count calories and what not). We walked into the charming establishment and greeted us, was a very short woman standing tall at no more than 4’11”. Just when we wondered how she would be able to serve us, she climbed onto her stepladder and asked us at eye level what would we like. As we looked at the delicious choices and inhaled the aromas, I asked to taste the Straciatella. It was a beautifully layered flavor of heaven and dairy but I wanted to try one more flavor. When I asked to try another, the attendant pointed to the sign and barked, “Only one sample!”

Oh…I just met the Gelato Nazi.

I know I’m dating myself but the Gelato Nazi is a reference to Jerry Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi (and yes, he is real as I experienced his shop back home in New York).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svSGKJFSl-8

Well now my lovely experience turned to neurosis anxiety, as I had to hurry up and decide what I wanted without the opportunity to taste anything else. The line was growing behind us and Tara’s eyes were darting back and forth at the choices and for a while could only utter “Umm…oh uh ummm”.  We gave our final answers just so we could hurry up and leave the glaring steel black eyes of the attendant. I felt my throat getting dry as I gingerly asked for one scoop of the mint chocolate chip on a sugar cone. I breathed a sigh of relief as she finally took her eyes away from me and completed my order. Since I was treating the both of us, I walked over to the counter to get ready to pay with my card. There I saw the next sign ‘Cash Only’ with no ATM in sight. I was about to break into tears (no, not really). Just when I was about to have Tara hold my dessert while I went to the bank, the attendant barked ONLY if I am paying for both orders, will she take my card. I quickly said I am and handed it to her. She grabbed it, swiped it, and slammed the paper on the table for me to sign. I signed it and returned it to her making sure I did not make any more eye contact and rushed out of the store.

We left out of the store full of glee for our Italian delights, and glad we made it out of there with our lives. Admonished, yes. Abused, no. We sat on one of the benches outside and I did my happy feet Snoopy dance for the first few licks. They top off your gelato with a delicate wafer that honestly tastes like it should be used for communion but I happily ate it anyway.

But seriously, it’s not that bad. The attendant is firm but thorough. I hope to meet Paolo one day to thank him for his gift of gelato to Atlanta. If you’re in Virginia Highlands, I recommend you try their gelato. If you’re not in Virginia Highlands, go there anyway. I’m sure you need to get out of the house. I can almost guarantee all of their flavors taste amazing and I hope to try most of them before the summer is out. Just carry cash. You’ve been warned.

 

 

Hairtastic

As a yougin’, I did not have a lot of hair. My Mom told me I used to pray every night for more hair. In the meantime, she would plait my hair and however it landed, is how I went to school. I don’t remember when my hair started to grow but I do remember my first perm – a kiddie perm. You know, the colorful box with the little girl with the slight toothy smile and long flowing hair with the ribbon on the side. Yeah, that. By that time, my hair had grown to my shoulders and I left the salon with that same bright smile like the girl on the box.

During my long hair era, my family vocalized their views about length.

“Men love long hair.”

“Never cut your hair.”

“Your hair is your crown and glory.”

Blah, blah, blah.

I soaked it up. I believed it. I would perm my hair and wrap it at night so the next morning, it would cascade against my shoulders. I had big curling irons and rollers for when I wanted to go curly or extra bobby pins if I wanted to put it up in a French Roll (remember that?). I would run for the nearest bus or train when it rained and curse the sky.  I liked when the guy I liked would play with my hair. My hair meant everything to me.

When I turned 16, I decided to cut my hair in an A-symmetrical style (like Salt n Pepa) as a surprise and declaration of early independence (or so I thought). I came home to show my Mom and when she saw it, she nearly choked me. She said she was ready to get the scissors to cut off the other half. After she gave me a tongue lashing, she sent me to the back of the house to retrieve her some ginger ale and when I went into the back room, some of my close friends were there to say Happy Birthday and instead of squealing with delight, I wailed with devastation. The next few months were difficult to say the least with my Mom rolling her eyes and the snide comments and my Dad shaking his head in disgrace, but my hair eventually grew back and I was back in my family’s good graces.

Then in 2004, I had a hairdresser in Brooklyn who was amazing and trying to get me to cut my hair. I vehemently shut her down. Folded my arms, rolled my eyes, huffed and puffed and told her to just perm the damn thing and let me go. One day, I left work on my lunch break to see her. I don’t know what came over me but when she asked me what were we doing today, I said:

“Cut it.”

She said what?

“Cut it…cut it. Cut it!”

Ok Ok!

She didn’t hesitate to start going Edward Scissorhands on me before I changed my mind. We didn’t even discuss how she was going to cut it. The end result was the ‘Halle Berry’ cut. I left the salon feeling awkward and free. I went back to work and loved the jaw dropping attention of my fellow co-workers. I secretly worried what my Mom would say but at this point, it didn’t matter. I was 29 and it was my hair. For the next few years after that, she and my relatives would ask if I was going to grow it back or if I missed it. I didn’t. It was my choice and with each head turn I received, I loved it. It just meant I had to perm or cut it more frequently to keep the back looking ‘laid’. This go round, I didn’t let people play with my hair. Do you know how much it cost to maintain? Chile, please! You better admire from afar!

In 2011, I started another transition. Going natural. I was curious about the texture of my natural hair and started the transition of leaving the creamy crack. The withdrawal was tough at first but eventually got easier. I noticed how often I looked at myself in the mirror. I also noticed how often I play with my hair. All the time. No really. I am always touching or twisting it. It still amazes me the different textures on this small head of mine, and how it is a combination of both of my parents. I love it. I love me and I’m not turning back.

As I’m still on this hairventure, I’ve noticed that I’ve attracted a different caliber of men as well. Before, I received looks and compliments from my brothers, but now, I am getting looks and compliments from across the board AND I LIKE IT! I admit, it confuses me sometimes as I want to ask them ‘is it the hair?’ but I know it is deeper than that. It’s the confidence and the love that I have for myself as I still discover…well…me!

 To all my natural sisters out there, what other changes do you see about yourself?

Rawesome Juicery. Awesome Ministry.

 

I CAN’T CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT! For all of you who are on the health kick with juicing and smoothies, I’m right there with you.  Atlanta, if I may make a suggestion: The next time you’re on the road and want a healthy and refreshing drink or snack, instead of running to your nearest Arden’s Garden (not that I have anything against them), you should drive a little farther to Sweet Auburn Curb Market and go inside to look for Rawesome Juicery. You will NOT be disappointed.

Rawesome Juicery is a cold-press juice and smoothie bar located in downtown Atlanta. My peeps Chantel and Kawai (the owners of this great establishment) serve the most amazing juices, smoothies, wraps, and salads. Everything is fresh and they cater to every health palette you have.

In the thirty minutes I spent with this dynamic duo in their store, I sampled various delicious smoothies like Peanut Butter & Jelly which blew my skirt up and their salad left me full and satisfied!  I implore you all to go by there and support them. You will walk away with a smile on your face and a happy and healthy belly. Like them on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Rawesomejuicery?fref=ts.  Like them on InstaGram. Like them wherever you see them and then spread the word.

Thank you, Chantel for feeding my body and spirit with your food and vision! Onward and upward! I’ll be by soon and I’m bringing a friend.

Rawesome Juicery

Sweet Auburn Curb Market

209 Edgewood Ave., SE

Atlanta, GA 30303

404-996-6698

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day folks! For those of you in the Atlanta area, if you’re looking for something to do, check this out:

DETAILS & MAP http://www.barcrawls.com/events/Atlanta-Official-St-Paddys-Day-Bar-Crawl-3-17-13 

Have fun but most of all, BE SAFE!

The Resurrection of Letter Writing

It was a beautiful day outside. I opened the blinds and welcomed the sun into my home. I thought this would be the perfect day to go for a walk, see what the world was doing, and just take it all in. As I was walking towards my closet to get my sneakers, I glanced at my college ruled notebook on the chair. I picked it up and started skimming through it and thought about that time in my life and the people involved. I smiled at the memories and the next thing I know, I was writing a letter.

Three hours later, I finished writing five letters.

I couldn’t help myself. You know how you log on to Facebook or Twitter and you lose yourself to time and sometimes foolishness? (Yes, you do!) Well, I lost time expressing my thoughts and sincere love for those people in my life. I didn’t miss going outside for that walk. There would be more sunny days. Writing those letters flooded my thoughts of memories of passing notes in class in elementary school all the way to high school. I remember feeling the imprint on the paper because we would write with such intensity. My friends had to know I liked so and so; or if we were meeting up later and where. We used any paper we could find – even the paper towel/napkins in the bathroom would be the foundation of our monologues expressing grief of pages of homework or whom we loathed that week. I was especially fond of receiving letters from my family in Jamaica. The first thing I would do is close my eyes and deeply inhale the letter. My Mom would look at me with furrowed brows as I blurted, “It smells like Jamaica.”

I don’t think Mom understood what that meant to me. Those handwritten letters evoked strong, personal emotions. They helped me to relive my visits with my loved ones from playing hand games with my cousins to eating mangos with my Grandfather that he specifically cut up for me. The paper also literally would smell like the country where they were produced. Letters propel you to write and think more with your heart than your brain. They are a beautiful surprise to receive in the mail amongst the junk and bills. You can’t rush through a letter. You must take your time to read and absorb it.

I wish this blog were handwritten so you could know how I feel for this lost art. I implore you to write a letter to someone today. So what your handwriting looks like you write with your knuckles, it’s ok! Go. Write. Today. There are so many pros to writing. Everyone is happy – ok well most are happy…ok, I’m happy. There are only two cons I can think of: writing a letter that delivers horrible news and buying stamps. I would like to think people would deliver horrible news in person or over the phone (not via text) and people can go to the Post Office to purchase a book of stamps. They’re stamps! So what? They’re self-adhesive so you don’t have to lick ‘em!

When was the last time someone received a handwritten letter from you? I would tell you to write me but I’m not giving you my address.

Core Lessons From A Seven Year Old

Core Lessons From A Seven Year Old.