Coke is the debil.. Or devil, Azaael, Beelzebub, Old Scratch, Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Iblis, Shaitan, whatever you give a name for great EVIL.. That is what Coke is! Coke is my Sugar Devil. I LOOOOOOOVE Coke. Every Monday I start the week off declaring I am not going to drink one singe Coke the entire week. Every Monday afternoon I have consumed at least one Coke. To me.. Coke is like a bad boyfriend or a case of the Herp. I can’t get rid of it no matter how hard I try! I just need it. Like no.. I NEED COKE. If I don’t have it, I start getting cranky. This foul mood will escalate until I have re-upped my Coke intake. Then the world is instantly fine. Until I get my Coke, I am HELL IN HEELS! I have done my very best to break the Coke habit but to no avail. And I mean I have tried EVERYTHING. I even promised myself IF I made it through one week without a Coke, I would buy that Gucci watch I’ve been eyeing. Alas.. The watch is STILL in the store. I just can’t turn my back on Coke. It goes with EVERYTHING and it is EVERYWHERE. Examples.. JACK and COKE.. Delightful.. Coke and ice cream equals a Coke float.. Stupendous. Long Island Iced Tea minus the Gin.. Legendary! I sipped Coke all throughout Italy this summer looking like an International Lover.. Of Coke that is. So.. There is really no running away from Coke as it is a Visa card.. Everywhere I want to be. Oh well. I give up. I am going to STOP deluding myself into thinking I can kick my Coke habit. It would be more feasible for me to find the Holy Grail or get conservatives to stop trashing Obama. Instead I will just sip the epervesent charming drink that currently resides to the right of my computer. Ah bliss! There is very few great joys as the first sip of a Coke..Spiked with enough JD to make me think giving up Coke is foolish. Here’s to you sugary soda which rots out millions of teeth annually and gives Americans fat sugar belly guts! I love you so! Even if you are bad for me.

As a child of the world, I have never totally committed to one specific religion. I have delighted in all of them as I believe they all have beauty, truth, and substance. Although my father tried his best to raise me as a Catholic, it didn’t quite stick. I sort of straddle all different types of religious doctrine. We lived down the road from a Buddhist temple in Thailand and I found the monks more interesting than Catholic priests. When we were in Kuwait, I enjoyed learning first hand about Islam. I could mention all the other religions I am fascinated by, but then the post would be long and rambly. So. Dad is Catholic and Mom is protestant.

My Mother the darling that she is, took us to church with her whenever Dad was out of town. He kept up the “You are going to be Catholic” program well into my 20’s. Evelyn isn’t just any run of the mill protestant. She is a Missionary Baptist! Needless to say the contrast between church services was drastic to say the least. I could always count on getting my money’s worth when I went to Mount Cavalry Baptist Church with Mom. The fanfare was always riveting. To say her church was “spirited” is giving it a demotion of the highest order.



I think today I was missing my Mom so I decided to go to a Baptist church service. Number one, mentioning I went to church gets MAJOR BROWNIE points with her, and B.. Church never hurts. Soo.. I get all gussied up and head out to the other side of town to see the sights. And boy oh boy did I! Number one. I don’t think I have seen so many “church hats” since the Kentucky Derby. They were big, ostentatious, and just attention grabbing. I marveled at how every hat matched the lady’s suit perfectly. As if they hat comes as a gift with purchase of the suit. Secondly, men were wearing suits of all sorts of Joseph and the Technicolor Dream Coat hues. My eyes were wide with glee! Once the service started, I trained my attention on the matter at hand. AND THEN.. That is when it happened… I landed smack into the movie the Blues Brothers!

I had NO idea Triple Rock Baptist Church moved from Chicago to Houston, Texas! The choir sang and I can attest it was populated by 3 Whitney Houstons, 2 Mariah Careys, 1 Aretha Franklin, and about 4 or so Patti Labelles! These women could have been professional singers! Beyonce would have held her head down in shame if she attended this church. They *might* not have let her join the choir. I was so wrapped up in the songs, I didn’t notice a shift in the force. The “holy spirit” started to take hold of people. Now.. I am NOT a stranger to people catching the spirit or shouting.. But.. Well.. they took it to a new level today. All I needed was Jake and Elwood to do flips or run down the isle.

All in all.. I had a wonderful day visiting that particular church. The sermon was rousing, the choir was flawless, and I had extra entertainment all over the place. I even felt the spirit of my Grandmothers Arizona and Bertha Mae sitting next to me. If ever I am feeling low, I will most definitely go back to that church. But next time I will be prepared. I will buy a big hat which matches my suit!

Lately a lot of issues have been presented to me. Unfortunately, it would seem I am the only person who has the ability to take care of them. Yay me for being mildly clever. This added burden of solving other people's problems has multiplied my stress level to a hundred thousand trillion. I have been functionally stressed for ages now, but it is starting to get ridic! To not be stressed would be the new unusual as stress is the norm. I would go into a full body shock like Fred Sanford if all of my stress was taken away from me. I need a vacation. Italy was nice, but alas.. I need another get away. I hate Texas. I make no secret of this. Any mode of transportation which ushers me out of the clutches of Texas is appreciated. I need to leave. My stay in Houston is like indentured servitude with no definitive end in sight. Once I believe I am free, something comes up to keep me here longer. Ah well. Another day.. Another day.. My life is like the economic stimulus plan. All I do is bail out people who don't deserve it. *sigh*

Having an advanced degree in psychology is a gift and a curse. It truly is. It is very easy to see what you are doing wrong, address it, and draft up a plan of action. I have always said as humans we are in a constant state of evolution and each day I strive to be better than I was yesterday. In THEORY this sounds amazing. Alas, as much as I LIKE to think I am a goddess, I am a mere human and riddled with human frailties. I have several mental projects I am working on at press.. But there is one thing I have never managed to improve upon, shake, solve, get rid of… I am an emotional eater!






My emotional eating is not a secret as I can readily admit it. I just can’t STOP it. Perhaps I was socialized to believe food is the outlet for all emotions. Celebrations are always accompanied with a grande dinner and fabulous deserts. Whenever I was down as a child my Mother would give me sweets. Ah the sugar devil is my friend. I love SUGAR. Well.. Let me be more succinct. Food that people tend to refer to as “junk” or “bad” is like a Visa card for me. Everywhere I want to be! Although I grew up overseas, my parents are Southerners. So as you can imagine fried food is king, queen, princess, prince, and court jester to me. I love fried foods just as much as I love sugar. Sugary fried foods are a win win! I also love soul food. Soul food will kill ya. Along with soul food, I love Asian food. Outside of Japanese cuisine, most Asian food is… Yes.. FRIED! Ah I love it. And who can forget Mexican fried goodness? They are geniuses becasue they figured out how to fry ice cream!  See how the links fit together? Not only do I love all the wrong foods, I love them all the time, all too much. So. I SHOULD work on this right? After all.. I am a psych person.. Shouldn’t I therapize myself? In THEORY yes.. But. Well.. I don’t WANT TO. I like self medicating with food. It is fast.. It is easy.. and yeah.. it has the potential of ruining your life. And. Well it has. Examples. I was miserably married.. Poof! I gained 40 pounds! When I decided to leave.. 30 melted away effortlessly. Or when I have a bad day at work, instead of going shoe shopping, I go to Sonic.




Currently, I am uber stressed out at work. My way of coping with it is to eat all sorts of things that make me happy. As I am not a quitter, I am NOT going to start eating healthy till I feel like it. Right now I feel like eating Caramel Popcorn.



Oracle’s Happiness List
1. Godiva chocolate
2. Twizzlers (really all candy)
3. Fried Chicken
4. Pizza
5. Chinese Food
6. Coldstone Ice Cream
7. Coke
8. Sweet tea
9. Doritoes
10. Coconut Doughnuts
11. Gummy Bears
12. Red Wine
13. French Fries
14. Burgers
15. Oatmeal Cookies (which I call breakfast due to the oatmeal)
16. Jack Daniels
17. Mexican Food

And we MUST not forget CUPCAKES! Yes.. My lovelies. Red Velvet Cupcakes are my favorite but I will settle for any flavor. The thought of cupcakes makes me giggle like a feind.
















This is the ideal meal for me in my current emotional state. Burgers, fries, fried chicken, coke! Yes yes yes yes! The coke may or may not have Jack Daniels in it too. Ah.. Bliss...



So until I either quit.. Or decide Momma is getting chunky.. I will continue on this path of minor destruction, for now. In fact.. It is almost 4 PM and all drinks at Sonic are half priced! I am about to bask in slushy glory! I might even have some Ketel One to add to the drink!

Yesterday on Twitter someone posted a link to divorce cakes. I was intrigued. Divorce cakes are now my new minor obsession. How could it not be? It contains DIVORCE which I am so very happy about.. And CAKE which once again.. Can’t get any better in my eyes. Perhaps it is my macabre sense of humor. The wedding was NO CELEBRATION but getting rid of a 180 pound albatross IS! Tee hee hee! Sooo. I was thinking. My bestie and I do just about everything together. Since the conclusion of our train wreck marriages, I thought it would be a smashing idea to have a divorce party to celebrate liberation from the prison camp called marriage. I searched the web looking for the perfect cake for our joint party and so far these are the main contenders. Why not have a Divorce cake? We had wedding cakes.. Divorce is a celebration which should not go gently into the goodnight. I am going to party it up like a parade in New Orleans! I am going to throw a Divorce party and unlike Sherree, it will actually happen.

Maya Angeleau has a saying which is so eloquently simple yet full of truth and wisdom. It is “when someone shows you who they really are, you better believe them the first time”. I think this rings true with all of us, but at times we rationalize and reason a new truth into our lives. People want what they want and will do anything to have it. The warning signs are there when it is not a good idea, yet people will capriciously ignore them till it is entirely too late. I am so very guilty of this. My marriage is a case study and cautionary tale of lack of believing what is right in front of my face.

When we met, I was in college and he was working as an engineer. Obviously he had more money than I did. I held 2 jobs and was taking very good care of myself. Between the two jobs and school I had little to no time for him. Looking back I was content only seeing him once or twice a month. Yet, he is a convincing devil and I quit one of my jobs to bestow more time on him. Stupid idea. It put me financially beholden to him, which in retrospect was something he relished in. I was continuously getting into monetary binds. He was more than happy to play the hero and rescue me. It got to a point my self esteem started to depreciate and I felt I owed everything to him. He was my savoir and I was the grateful victim. During this time, I ignored all sorts of warning signs pertaining to him. I let him get away with behavior usually never ever sanctioned by me. I just turned a blind eye or explained away anything that looked jankey. After all. He was the one doing all the heavy lifting right? We argued all the time and I would always back down because I was afraid I would push him too far and loose him. Well ,finally the damn broke. He moved back to Texas and I was forced to once again take care of myself. Fortunately after I snapped out of the haze of foolishness I was rather proficient at it. Our breakup was ugly to say the least but on the other side of it I was a much happier person.

In the time we spent apart, I completed my degree and secured a fantastic job. I dated amazing men and some amazingly disappointing ones. I traveled and maintained a diverse circle of friends. I was extraordinarily joyful. Not to mention debt free. Then out of the blue.. He came back into my life. If I had a time machine I would have never answered the phone that day. How I WISH I had never answered the phone that day.

We started talking again and he apologized for all of the transgressions I suffered in the relationship. To be finally validated by him was intoxicating to me. He had a way of diminishing my self worth like no other. I have always had solid self esteem but he would find a small fissure and exploit it. The “new” him was the one I had always waited and hoped for. Unfortunately, this kinder gentler man was just a product of my imagination. The asshole had many more feats of prestidigitation to perform for me. In the time we were away from each other, his life went to hell. He married a horrible (now I think clever) woman who drained him financially and once he lost his job divorced him. At the time, my heart went out to him. He helped me.. It is my turn to help him. And this boys and girls is when my life took a turn for the 4 year worst..

ACT ONE: NEVER COMPLETELY SUPPORT A MAN: I started helping him out financially. I paid his rent and sent him money for incidentals. It was my intention that he would get on his feet in a couple of months and eventually he would pay me back. This was NOT the case. Soon helping him was causing financial issues for me. I started dipping into my savings and inheritance for him. I decided to get a SECOND job in order to keep assisting him. After all.. He helped me right? I would work retail at night and my job job during the day in order to keep up helping him. What the hell? I have TWO jobs and he can’t even find ONE. But I was so busy trying to prove my worth to him that I didn’t let this foolishness deter me. Finally the breaking point came and I suggested he move to the east coast and live with me so that he could get on his feet.


ACT TWO: DON’T BRING TRASH BACK INTO YOUR HOME: I sent him money to move in with me. DISASTER. He sat around all day, drank beer, ate all the food in the house, and was super depressed. Looking for work in North Carolina was difficult for him as he NEVER COMPLETED HIS DEGREE. I had NO idea.! I was always under the impression that to call yourself an engineer you had to complete an engineering DEGREE. So. Here I was supporting both of us for what now has reached over a year. My house is a complete mess with his junk everywhere, beer cans, and bottles of dip hidden throughout the house. He didn’t do any laundry or clean. The only thing interesting to him was watching the food network and cooking weird concoctions which were completely unpalatable . My mind was screaming get rid of him. Yet I ignored it. I was being validated as the wonderful woman I am.


ACT THREE: ALL MY FRIENDS ARE MARRIED WHY AREN’T WE: He kept trying to get me to marry him. By no means was it the romantic proposal all women dream of. It was the constant Chinese water torture of “let’s get married”, “we should get married”, “you know all my friends are married”… I did NOT want to marry this man. Yet. I rationalized away my fears. I talked myself into believing he was just depressed.. When his life balanced out, he would be fine. So. I agreed to marry him. At this time, he was STILL unemployed and I was reaching financial ruin. He might not have been working but he could make money disappear like Chris Angel MINDFREAK! Not many people know this. My MOTHER paid for my engagement and wedding rings! She didn’t want me to not have the rings I wanted or deserved. All of my other friends who were with gainfully employed men had nice rings and she didn’t not want me to be left out. So now my own MOTHER invested $13,000 into him hedging that he would eventually be able to provide for a wife and family. I started planning a lavish wedding which my MOTHER was also going to pay for. My friends and family were so excited. I felt like I was drowning. I wasn’t excited about getting married.. I was NOT excited about this man.

We did all the things engaged people do like registering for gifts, picking out venue, food, and so on and so on. Nothing brought me any joy connected to this wedding. NOTHING. As each day passed.. I disliked him a bit more. Finally he was offered a position working overseas, so he convinced me to fly out to Las Vegas for quickie nuptials. Luckily MOM had bought my dress a month prior. So on notice of about a week three of my best friends, a weird fat chick, my Aunt, and my Mom met us in Vegas to watch the biggest travesty of a wedding ever. In the video you can see Heather dragging me down the isle. It was if my feet were protesting. I laughed all the way through my wedding vows. Never changed my last name. Was completely pissed off during the reception dinner. As always.. MOM PAID FOR EVERYTHING! We were tight on money, but during our time in Vegas what cash I would give him, he gambled it away. So he was always asking me for more money. The next day he was so pressed to gamble he left me and my best friend in a hot car so that he could play roulette. We had no idea where he disappeared to. Finally when we entered the casino and saw him gambling, we were livid. I started to cry. I never cry. These would be the first of many many tears I would shed as a wife.

The job overseas didn’t pan out. His lies and deception unfold little by little as each month passes. To say I had no idea who he was is a gross understatement. He finally secured employment and moved back to Texas. I had just started grad school and couldn’t follow him. We are living in two different cities, and this TOTALLY worked for me. It did not work for him. To stave off the loneliness, he would go shopping. He is a hoarder. The apartment he lived in became jam packed with junk he has no need for. Two full cabinets of kitchen gadgets and spices, stacks of magazines knee high, weird science kits, five or six cases of beer… you name it. I was horrified. Yet again I explained it away. I thought he was depressed and once I moved to Texas, he would snap out of it. So, I lost credits and moved to Texas.

ACT FOUR: I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING ALL OF THE TIME: The move itself was a clusterfuck. I had to do EVERYTHING. I boxed not only my possessions but his as well. I bought new furniture and the wedding gifts we received (all from my family and friends). I paid off the $3,000 back rent he owed on his storage in Virginia and got his worthless junk shipped to North Carolina. The day the U-Haul pulled out of my driveway I felt like I was going to the electric chair. All I wanted to do was turn around and go home. I had Willie with me so that was enough. One smile from him and I was ok for another day. We bickered and fought the entire two day hellish drive to Houston. Once here I was greeted by the filthiest apartment I have seen since college frat houses.

I into my life in Houston, but the bickering and excessive spending by him never relented. I was always happy when he was at work and miserable the moment he stepped foot into the apartment. I wanted to go home daily, hourly, minutely.. I stayed. My parents were married for 40 years, I knew things would be tough. However, my belief is eventually things will get better. Did they? NO! So what did I do to further fuck up my life? I bought a HOUSE with him.

ACT FIVE: THINGS ARE HORRIBLE LET’S MAKE THEM WORSE: If things weren’t bad enough, I let him pressure me into agreeing to buy a house. His credit was abysmal so everything had to go in my name. EVERYTHING. He would have never qualified for a mortgage without me. Then he decided we needed a Lowe’s credit card, Best Buy credit card, and a plethora of other ones. So, trying to keep the peace I got him everything he wanted. The house was new construction and charming. He complained constantly. He wanted to keep the dog on the porch all the time. In Houston it gets to 103 all the time. Plus, Willie was already 14 years old and accustomed to living INSIDE. He used my dog as a weapon against me. I have always though he was jealous of the dog. The fighting continued and intensified. We stopped sleeping in the same room. (only thing I was happy about) The house was Survivor Island. Oracle and Willie in one camp.. Hateful Jackass in the other. I think the stress of living with us killed my dog. He just kept deteriorating. Finally I decided to put him to sleep. And what did that asshole do? He WANTED to be there for me! Are you serious? YOU KILLED MY DOG with your inhumane treatment! There was no way in his last moments would I let my ex be in the same room with Willie. One again, my best friend came to the rescue and we put him to sleep together. Did the fighting stop? Nope. He just found other things to bitch about.

LAST SCENE: I FINALLY BELIEVED: I got a grip. His spending put us (mostly me) in a financial hole. He just wouldn’t stop. I took all the credit cards in my name and cut them up. I got a second job. I finished grad school. I started making plans for divorce. While I was busy fixing problems.. He laid on the couch watching Beverly Hills 90210 drinking beer. Now I am about to sell my townhouse and move home. And nothing can stop me. After all he showed me who he really was many many many times and I didn’t believe it the first, second, or third time. I believe it now. He is a man fully comfortable with letting his wife work herself to death to afford the lifestyle he wasn't exposed to before his nuptials. He is a man who has no problem taking money from a woman. He is a man who spends money as if there is no tomorrow. He is a man who is lives in a fantasy world with no repercussions for his action. He isn't a man. He is a child who wants to be taken care of. And I totally believe it.