Alretha Thomas's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
On the Fast Track
For the past twelve years, I’ve commuted from Covina to Century City and back. When I add it all up, I’ve driven 218,880 miles and have sat in traffic for 420 days—that’s more than a year. I’m LMBO right now. It’s amazing to me that I’ve covered that much ground and that I’ve sat in traffic for over a year! By the way, I’m on my third car. The first two were used and my latest is new. It’s the first new car I’ve ever owned in my life, and now that I’ve gotten a taste of what it feels like to drive new, I’ll never go back to a hooptie.
Back to the numbers! At 218,880 miles, I could have driven around the world 8 times, gone to Lagos, Nigeria and back 14 times, and traveled from Los Angeles to New York and back 39 times. Did you know that there are approximately 218,000 miles of railroad track in the U.S? Yep, your girl has been on the road. I know crazy, huh. Look, I was just like you. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think I could drive that far to and from work. When I’d hear about it taking someone two and three hours to get home, I’d shake my head and think to myself that they were crazy. But when my husband and I decided to buy a house we wanted to get some bang for our buck and at the time, houses near my place of employment or even within twenty miles, were too expensive. And if they were affordable, they were the size of a doll house. By the way, this was before the subprime lending debacle.
It hasn’t been easy and it’s taken a toll. On some rainy days it’s taken me up to three hours to get home. How did I do it? I listened to a lot of talk radio, played a lot of CDs, and talked to a lot of folk on the phone, especially my oldest sister. I have to give her props, because she has gotten me through my commute during times when I just wanted to park my car on the ten freeway, jump on the hood, and holler, “I can’t take it anymore!” Well, I’m here to tell you that God does answer prayer.
About a month ago I started noticing signs regarding the Metro Express Lanes. At first I thought it was just a modification of the carpool lane, but it’s much more than that. The fast track allows solo drivers to get into these two new fast lanes on the ten freeway. I remember the week it opened up seeing drivers doing 100 miles an hour on the ten, while I was stuck in traffic going negative 10 miles an hour with countless other burned out drivers. I’d look over at the fast lane and it would be empty for miles and every now and then there would be a flash. What the! So I did some research and joined the FastTrack Program and it’s costing me less than $60 dollars a month and has taken about 40 minutes off of my commute! It’s a miracle.
I really have a feeling that God is preparing me for the next great transition in my life. It’s like when a story is about to come to an end, everything becomes easier and comes together. The story of my life as a commuter is about to come to an end and soon the only trip I’ll have to make will be the one from my bedroom to my home office, and instead of sitting in traffic, I’ll be sitting at the computer writing my next novel!
Back to the numbers! At 218,880 miles, I could have driven around the world 8 times, gone to Lagos, Nigeria and back 14 times, and traveled from Los Angeles to New York and back 39 times. Did you know that there are approximately 218,000 miles of railroad track in the U.S? Yep, your girl has been on the road. I know crazy, huh. Look, I was just like you. Never in my wildest nightmares did I think I could drive that far to and from work. When I’d hear about it taking someone two and three hours to get home, I’d shake my head and think to myself that they were crazy. But when my husband and I decided to buy a house we wanted to get some bang for our buck and at the time, houses near my place of employment or even within twenty miles, were too expensive. And if they were affordable, they were the size of a doll house. By the way, this was before the subprime lending debacle.
It hasn’t been easy and it’s taken a toll. On some rainy days it’s taken me up to three hours to get home. How did I do it? I listened to a lot of talk radio, played a lot of CDs, and talked to a lot of folk on the phone, especially my oldest sister. I have to give her props, because she has gotten me through my commute during times when I just wanted to park my car on the ten freeway, jump on the hood, and holler, “I can’t take it anymore!” Well, I’m here to tell you that God does answer prayer.
About a month ago I started noticing signs regarding the Metro Express Lanes. At first I thought it was just a modification of the carpool lane, but it’s much more than that. The fast track allows solo drivers to get into these two new fast lanes on the ten freeway. I remember the week it opened up seeing drivers doing 100 miles an hour on the ten, while I was stuck in traffic going negative 10 miles an hour with countless other burned out drivers. I’d look over at the fast lane and it would be empty for miles and every now and then there would be a flash. What the! So I did some research and joined the FastTrack Program and it’s costing me less than $60 dollars a month and has taken about 40 minutes off of my commute! It’s a miracle.
I really have a feeling that God is preparing me for the next great transition in my life. It’s like when a story is about to come to an end, everything becomes easier and comes together. The story of my life as a commuter is about to come to an end and soon the only trip I’ll have to make will be the one from my bedroom to my home office, and instead of sitting in traffic, I’ll be sitting at the computer writing my next novel!
MAN HANDS
It was while watching an episode of “Seinfeld” that I first heard the phrase, “man hands.” The episode, like all Seinfeld episodes, was hilarious. Jerry was dating a woman who had massive hands, and the oversized hands really stood out, because everything else about the woman was attractive and in proportion. I remember looking down at my hands while watching the show and it dawned on me that I could have played the part.
Yes, I have “man hands.” They’re large, rough, and claw-like. Go to the Contact page of my new author website, www.Alrethathomas.com, and take a gander at my hand grasping my laptop. I told you! LOL. I’ve always had large hands. In the fifth grade my classmates and I were introduced to the violin, and the man who was making the presentation gave our hands the once over to determine what size violin would be the right fit. He took one look at my large mitts and exclaimed, “You’ll need an adult size!” His devastating words slapped the smile right off of my face. I glanced around at the other students with tear-filled eyes, wondering if they had heard him and what they thought. I wanted to slip into the crack on the floor. That incident reminds me how important it is to be careful about what we say to children who are impressionable and most times insecure.
Another incident that comes to mind was many years later. I was in my twenties and hanging out at a local nightclub. I thought I had it going on that night. My weave was laid, and I was wearing a cute two piece Capri set with my midriff exposed. As I walked past this group of people, a jerk in the bunch screamed, “Ugh, she has man hands. Look at her hands!” My flat stomach sank as his mordant words reverberated on my eardrums. No he didn’t just put my hands on blast! The others snickered, and I slinked back to my seat at the bar, humiliated and full of questions about my deformed hands.
My sister told me that my stepfather used to beat on my hands, and I also recall a window at our house falling onto my hands. So it’s no wonder they’re tore up from the floor up. The right hand is worse than the left, and at one time in my life, I would keep it hidden. That was a long time ago, and since then I have done a lot of emotional healing and growing . Today, I’m happy to announce that I’m proud of my “man hands.” It’s the manly fingers on these man hands of mine that are typing this blog. I used these big hands to write “Married in the Nick of Nine,” the first standalone book in the Cass and Nick series, and the sequel, “Baby in the Window,” and the third and fourth novels, “One Harte, Two Loves,” and “Renee’s Return,” respectively.
Today I know that I’m blessed to have hands period! Not just hands, but feet, legs, and all of my limbs, no matter what shape they’re in. I cringe when I think about the people who lost their limbs in that horrific Boston bomb attack. God help us all.
Today I don’t think about my “man hands,” I think about lending a hand, giving someone a hand clap, experiencing something first-hand, knowing something like the back of my hand, and being in God’s Good Hands
Yes, I have “man hands.” They’re large, rough, and claw-like. Go to the Contact page of my new author website, www.Alrethathomas.com, and take a gander at my hand grasping my laptop. I told you! LOL. I’ve always had large hands. In the fifth grade my classmates and I were introduced to the violin, and the man who was making the presentation gave our hands the once over to determine what size violin would be the right fit. He took one look at my large mitts and exclaimed, “You’ll need an adult size!” His devastating words slapped the smile right off of my face. I glanced around at the other students with tear-filled eyes, wondering if they had heard him and what they thought. I wanted to slip into the crack on the floor. That incident reminds me how important it is to be careful about what we say to children who are impressionable and most times insecure.
Another incident that comes to mind was many years later. I was in my twenties and hanging out at a local nightclub. I thought I had it going on that night. My weave was laid, and I was wearing a cute two piece Capri set with my midriff exposed. As I walked past this group of people, a jerk in the bunch screamed, “Ugh, she has man hands. Look at her hands!” My flat stomach sank as his mordant words reverberated on my eardrums. No he didn’t just put my hands on blast! The others snickered, and I slinked back to my seat at the bar, humiliated and full of questions about my deformed hands.
My sister told me that my stepfather used to beat on my hands, and I also recall a window at our house falling onto my hands. So it’s no wonder they’re tore up from the floor up. The right hand is worse than the left, and at one time in my life, I would keep it hidden. That was a long time ago, and since then I have done a lot of emotional healing and growing . Today, I’m happy to announce that I’m proud of my “man hands.” It’s the manly fingers on these man hands of mine that are typing this blog. I used these big hands to write “Married in the Nick of Nine,” the first standalone book in the Cass and Nick series, and the sequel, “Baby in the Window,” and the third and fourth novels, “One Harte, Two Loves,” and “Renee’s Return,” respectively.
Today I know that I’m blessed to have hands period! Not just hands, but feet, legs, and all of my limbs, no matter what shape they’re in. I cringe when I think about the people who lost their limbs in that horrific Boston bomb attack. God help us all.
Today I don’t think about my “man hands,” I think about lending a hand, giving someone a hand clap, experiencing something first-hand, knowing something like the back of my hand, and being in God’s Good Hands
