Know When To Fold Em

As many of you know, I was on a quest recently to receive a gift from a person who I believed had wronged me.  What started out as a joke of sorts morphed into something much larger.  For me it was an internal discussion on how and why it became acceptable for some people to just say I am sorry and be let off the hook, so to speak.  

I gave out funny little hints on Twitter, and to the person in question.  I wrote a blog about the internal discussion that I was having with myself and asked others to join the conversation.  For me, this journey is at an end.  The final insult to injury came when I did, in fact, receive a gift.

For the record, let me say the dollar amount of the gift was never an issue.  The gift, to be sure, had to be well thought out and from the heart.  A token of sorts to show the level of regret and remorse for the many lies, half truths that had been told to me.  I was hopeful the person would get the point I was trying to make and somehow realize if they were willing to put into action the words I was hearing from them, it would be a starting point of mending this relationship.

Well, I did receive my gift.  It came just yesterday.  It was a bottle of men's cologne that I had commented on previously.  The fact it came damaged and leaking, well that is another part of the story.  What I did notice was that while the bottle was slightly cracked, the envelope was almost completely dry.  The cap was dented and scratched.

It occurred to me that what I had received was, in fact, a used or as one of my Twitter followers called, "previously loved" bottle of cologne.  Previously, while pestering the person for clues on what my gift could be, I was told it came with no box so he had to bubble wrap my gift.  The bottle was not bubble wrapped but just stuck in a plain manila envelope with bubble wrap on the inside.  

As I sat staring at the offending bottle and having my entire apartment become almost a hazardous substance incident, I became very insulted.  Not angry, just very, very insulted.  There is a difference.  After the grievous wrongs done to me, to be sent a used gift, lied to yet again about him having to order it, I was stunned and insulted.

The cologne was most likely an xmas gift.  I remember having the discussion about the fragrance and being amazed Avon (of all places) made the cologne.  I really do like the smell of it.  Every person, everywhere knows that colognes and perfumes come in bottles and sold in boxes.  I don't care where you get the cologne, it comes in a bottle, inside of a box.  The fact there was a considerable amount of the cologne gone and yet the envelope it came in was dry, leads me to know, this was in fact a re-gift.

I don't care that if purchased, the fragrance would have cost only $22.50 and for the month of March, Avon is having a BOGO on men's cologne, I like the smell of it and would have enjoyed it.  It was ruined by the lies leading up to receiving it and then the fact this was a gift to show how sorry this person was for deeply hurting my feelings and betraying my trust.  Not the best time to "re-gift" and already used item.

I consider myself a fairly intelligent person.  I consider myself pretty good at judging people.  I have to say those beliefs in myself have been shaken to the core by this person.  I went to bed last night feeling stupid for ever thinking anything would be different with this person.  I will not allow myself to ponder the whys and what was he thinking.  My only thought was just how very insulted and disrespected I felt.

I awoke this morning and was accosted by this person again, in the form of a text.  He "wanted to wish me a Happy Easter."  My reply was; "I guess thank you, but I don't celebrate Easter as I am Jewish.  All week has been our holiday of Passover, when Moses led the Jews out of bondage."  What offended me the most, again, was the fact that not once during this entire week has he wished me a happy Passover.  He is more than aware I am Jewish, so for him to make an effort to text me such a message just tells me even more just how very low I rank in his world.  Okay I get it.

Even as I sit here writing this blog, I am still stunned, offended and insulted.  I know in his head he will turn this around and I will be the bad guy.  He did the last time and the time before that.  I am thinking I just need to fold this hand.  I am not going to get through to this person.  He is either unwilling or unable to effect change within himself and so its time to move on.

Sometimes, if I quacks like a duck, walks like a duck, has feathers like a duck, then its most likely a duck.  If a person lies, fabricates elaborate tales, provides false information and pictures to back up their lies and when confronted with said lies, gets angry at you, chances are, they are a liar.  I am not G-d, nor a trained psycho therapist nor do I want to be.  I just wanted a chance to get to know this person.  That is no longer the case.  I know all I ever need to know.

What I fear the most for this person is he will end up quite alone in life.  Lies tend to separate the liar from the rest of the world.  There is always a veil which separates them from true intimacy with others.  Without intimacy there are not bonds, no friendships, no relationships.  I fear this is happening to him right now and I have to say saddened. 

For me, I chalk this up to just bad judgement on my part.  The hardest thing I will have to face is not letting this affect how I interact with people.  I will have to keep this experience in the front of my mind to do so.

I still stand by the premise of my whole argument.  Its just too easy for people to say "I am sorry" and skate off without any real consequences.  I think instead of saying I am sorry, how about a gift to show the person wronged the offender means they are sorry.  It is something I plan on incorporating into my life and my relationships.  I don't ever really want to hear I am sorry again, I would prefer, I was wrong, can you forgive me and by the way, here is a small token gift to show you how I really feel.

I wish for peace of mind.  I wish for a stillness in my soul.  I pray I have learned from this and I conclude this whole sordid affair.  

You Fucked Up! Now What?

What started as a funny way for me to express the hurt, anger and overwhelming feelings of stupidity has morphed into this blog.

We all have experienced emotional pain in our lives.  Either by a friend, lover, family member or etc. What really bothered me lately was the fact that the person who trampled all over my heart with lies and deceptions was seemingly able to get off the hook with a simple "I'm sorry."  I consider myself fairly evolved, in touch with my feelings and yet his I'm sorry just wasn't cutting it for me.

I started to think about all the times I have heard "I am sorry" in my life.  Each and every time someone uttered that phrase I felt it was expected of me to instantly forgive that person and move on.  Am I wrong everyone?  I can't be the only person to feel that way.

So I started thinking.  There is usually a pay-off when some hurts another person.  Yes, for all those Pollyanna's out there, there are those times when a person hurts another person purely by accident, but most of the time, the offender does it by simply giving themselves permission to do whatever it is they know will hurt you.  For me it was lying.  Deep, involved lying that lead me to a place of non-trust.

I decided I deserved a gift.  Something to materially show me I should want to forgive.  Really, when you stop and think about it, I got hurt, I "should" forgive, I am "supposed" to be moving on, right?  What the hell is the offender doing?  Oh yeah, that's right, they said sorry.  They are off the hook and I am left doing all this internal work? Nope.  This "Willow" (see other post) was tired of feeling like the schmuck doing all the work.  If I am gonna forgive, move on and work on trusting someone again...damn it I want a gift.

This got me to thinking.  If someone knew they had to cough up a gift every time the lied, cheated, stole, or etc. would they?  Would they still offend and hurt a person if they knew if they lied they would have to come up with, say, a $100 gift to begin the atonement process?  Late for dinner, $20 gift card to Starbucks and etc.?

Why shouldn't a person who has trampled my heart, broken my trust and set me back in therapy another 2 years cough up a gift?  Then I thought to myself, "Lucien, are you materialistic?"  So let me get this right, I got fucked over, hurt, and obviously didn't have my needs met.  They did whatever it is people do and they utter three words and skate off into the future?  MMM....does that sound fair??  It didn't seem that way to me.

So here I ended up.  Wanting a gift, saying I want a gift and I still haven't gotten a gift.  I, my hints, are all being ignored.  As if its some joke.  Well, for me its not a joke.  I have been telling people all week that I am tired of hearing "I am sorry."  Really tired.  Instead of telling me your sorry, hand me a gift.  Put your "I am sorry" into action.  Walk out that door, think of another instead of yourself and your needs and go shopping for the appropriate gift to say "I am sorry" with.

I am really curious to see how others think about this.  I welcome comments on this topic.  I am tired of taking the high road and forgiving.  The friggin high road is under construction because I have used it too much.

I have learned much about forgiveness over the years.  I employ it a lot.  I love to forgive because then it frees me from holding onto hate and other negative emotions but hell, even this well medicated guy has his limits.  I have forgiven the person recently who hurt me.  Have I forgotten what he did?  Hell no.

My friend Garry told me I was trivializing a serious emotional thing.  I really don't think so.  Depending on the offense, the dollar amount spent on the gift should correspond with the severity of the offense.  I would never demand an IPad for being late to dinner, but I would if you were caught canoodling with someone on Facebook.  Its common sense.  It should vary as the offense and the people involved.

I'd like to think of it as a deterrent to bad behavior.  Let me know what you think?

I Am A Willow

As I look back on my life through the ups and the downs, the right turns and the lefts, I see one thing that is, has and will probably always be constant....and that is me.  Recently, while I was off living my life, enjoying an early warm spring day, I was amazed when I turned on my twitter account on my phone how many mention and etc I had received.  I am not kidding when I say my mouth actually fell open, it did.  I was sitting in the park, smoking a cigarette.

As I started reading, I noticed there was a common denominator (s).  I had actually mentioned two people by name and I guess that is just a no no for them.  The fact that I uttered their name with the attached sentiment that I try to stay clear of them is obviously too much for them to bear.  My bad, I know better with these two than to mention them or have their names show up on my TL.  I know to say something in a DM and then delete it after a person reads it.  I have learned the ways of the Twitter.  This time though I didn't.  Maybe I was being passive aggressive, maybe it was my subconscious doing its thang, I don't know.  Maybe I was just tired of not being able to say or do something because of a reaction from these two people?  Who knows?  I did what I did and I own it.  

What I did was discuss why I stay clear of the these two.  One courts drama and is very hurtful and abusive to many and the other....well...for lack of better word is just bizarre.   One person all I ever did to provoke her was to unfollow.  I unfollowed because I wanted to stay out of the drama.  Not choose a side.  The other, well she loves to call me such things as "pathetic mother fucker"  "coward" and feebly attempt to poke at my manhood.

Sitting in the park it just occurred to me I just don't give a shit.  I really don't.  I have to say I don't care if someone doesn't like me.  I am who I am.  I lie (not lay, chickens lay eggs, people lie down) down with myself at night and if I am okay with my actions then I sleep well.  I cannot change, nor do I wish to change, these people's opinions of me.  It is what it is.  

In coming to the conclusion that I don't give a shit, I noticed it was a pattern with me over the years.  I would call it one of my survival skills.  I bend with trouble.  I noticed I tend to not resist trouble but to bend into it and just go along with it.  The answer or resolution eventually comes.  So why resist and waste so much energy?  Silly right?  I was feeling like I was actually doing that in conjunction with this issue.

Willow trees bend in a storm and then after the storm they are one of the first trees to stand back up and provide shade.  That is how I like to think of myself during this little twitter skirmish and in general in life.  Much has happened to me that I thought would break me, but I seem to bend and after the rough patch I am back to myself again.  I like this about myself.

I know this blog will be forwarded to the two people in question and I don't care.  I have to say this.  I am not mad, angry or resentful towards either of you.  You have your way of doing things and I have mine.  I don't agree with yours and you obviously don't agree with mine.  If I have, by the simple utterance of your names along with the sentiment of not wanting to interact with you, has offended, then I humbly apologize.  I still do not wish to have anything to do with either of you, but as, I said, if that offends, then sorry.   See, this really shouldn't matter to you.  Who am I?  Some schmuck in a small town?  Really, what power do I wield over you to make you so angry?  That is what you should be considering, not what a pathetic mother fucker I am or how much of a coward I am.

Life is a funny string of events that when we get introspective can show us how to grow and evolve.  I tend to sew the good memories together to form a sort of mental blanket which I use during the cold, prickly patches life throws our way.  The hard times are linked together by the shear steps in learning hopefully we achieve from our struggles.

I realized in the park I had grown, changed, sprouted a new branch on me, the Willow, called maturity from this whole event.  I should actually say thank you to those who were gracious enough to participate in this whole twitter thing so that I might learn I was maturing and flexible.  I have looked, closed my eyes and tried to feel for the anger but its simply not there.  I wish no one harm.  I wish only good things for everyone. Everyone deserves to be happy, healthy and to feel loved.  Does this sound a little mamby pamby, sure, but that is just a side that most of you on twitter don't get to see.

I would rather laugh than fight.  I would rather dance than cry.  I would rather just move on than continue to involve myself in something that has no positive payoff for all those involved.  Its a cosmic waste of time, energy and creativity.  Hugs need to be given, love needs to be shown, families need to be tended, work to be done.   Let us all just move forward in our own directions and call it lesson.  In Hindi, Namastae and in Yiddish Zei Gezunt.

Honoring Miss Praleene "Pippy" Harrell

I thought long and hard about what woman has had the biggest impact in my life.  As a man, I found it a little odd that several didn't automatically come to mind.  I thought of several men who have greatly influenced, mentored or shaped me as a man....but a woman?.  It took me a while to figure out my own internal definition of impact.

I had define impact or change.  I have been blessed enough to have had several women come forward in my life to replace the defective woman, my mother, as central maternal figures.  Teachers, co-workers, family friends and those I have met on my many travels across the globe came to mind.  In sitting down to write this blog, one woman kept creeping back into my mind.  I kept thinking was this the woman whom I felt had the most important or unique impact on me as a man, a person and as a citizen?  I decided to sleep on it and make my decision in the morning.

Praleene Harrell is the woman who, for me, offered me some of the greatest gifts, love and insights I have ever received.  Praleen, or Miss Pippy as she preferred to be called knocked on my door one day asking if I had seen her great granddaughter.  I remember the day well.  I was living in Virginia Beach.  The temperature that day had to have been well into the 90's with high humidity.  Miss Pippy was drenched in sweat, elderly and I was concerned.  I offered to get her something to drink while I told her that her granddaughter was next door playing with my other neighbors children.  She politely refused, thanked me and left.  Not a very auspicious meeting to say the least.

For some reason, Miss Pippy's great granddaughter just adored me.  Whenever I would sit out on my front porch she would always find a reason to come over and sit with me.  If I was working on my flower beds or filling up my bird feeders, I always had those cute little hands asking if she could help.  She would always pepper me with questions like, "why do you feed the birds?", "what is the name of the purple flower?" and to be honest on some days it drove me crazy and at other times I welcomed the company of Little Dee.

Miss Pippy and I got to know each other well because she didn't like her great grandchild over at "that white boy's house!"  Finally, one day I had enough.  She would roam the neighborhood announcing I was, as she put it, "one of them homesomesesuals."  I decided to confront her and tell her to knock it off.  I remember walking up to her at the mailboxes.  I was fired up and loaded with bear.

I said my piece to her.  She silently and with that wryly smile of hers just looked at me and said nothing.  She then simply turned and walked away.  I was stunned.  I told her that I thought she was being ignorant, rude and above all cruel to her great grandchild and myself.  Just a few hours later I saw Little Dee on her stoop crying.  I asked her what was wrong?  She told me her Memaw has whooped her behind for going over to my house.  I told her to listen to her Memaw and that we could be friends in our minds.  Whenever we would see each other we could say hi and talk to each just in our own minds.  I told her it was important for her to listen to what her Memaw told her.  She seemed comforted by this.  Its amazing what a 5 year old will believe, thankfully.

Not long after this incident we had a hurricane, Isabel which hit Virginia Beach.  Miss Pippy's townhouse was greatly damaged.  She went to stay with her granddaughter while repairs were being made on the house.  Her granddaughter asked me to keep an eye on things as I lived next door.  While Miss Pippy was going our neighborhood association met and decided to buy and replace the tree that was torn down by the storm which stood on Miss Pippy's postage sized front lawn.  It was a miniature flowing Japanese Dogwood tree.  I was in charge of getting one and getting it into the ground with the help of another neighbor, Miss Addie.

As Miss Addie and I planted the tree we talked.  I got a little background on why Miss Pippy acted the way she did toward me.  We discussed other things like what were her favorite flowers, how she wanted to paint her shutters but couldn't and how she like my brass flower box on my porch.  I decided right then and there to paint her shutters, plant her favorite flowers, and get her a brass flower box.  I called her granddaughter and told her what I was doing and she was thrilled.

Miss Pippy came home a week later and saw her home repaired.  She saw the little tree which had replaced the old one.  Her grass was cut, edged and flowers were planted along the front of her townhouse.  The biggest brassiest flower box was filled with her favorite flower, Forget-Me-Nots.  She stood on her sidewalk crying and I was watching from my kitchen window.  I was so happy she was happy.

It was understood that no one would ever tell Miss Pippy who or why what was done was done.  She was a proud woman and would have "thrown a fit" if she knew who was responsible.  Somehow though, she did find out.  She came over one evening with a check for $100.00.  I would not accept it.  Miss Addie told me she has the same thing happen.  She, too, refused the money.  Miss Pippy stormed off.

A few days later I was walking up the street and Miss Pippy stopped me and asked me if I had eaten dinner.  I told her no, I was on my way home to fix and have dinner.  She asked me over for dinner.  I was a little surprised and to be frank nervous, but I decided to say yes.  I told her I wanted to drop off my bags at my house and would be over in a few.  She told me to "hurry it up, she don't serve no cold food!"

I had the best dinner of my life.  We had fried chicken, black beans, and corn pone.  The ice tea almost put me in a diabetic coma but I drank it up as if it were mother's milk.  That was the beginning of our friendship.  From that point of breaking bread and her feeling she had repaid me for what we had done, she considered us equals.

I learned that Miss Pippy was 97 years old.  The fact she didn't look a day over 65 proves "black don't crack."   Her energy level always made me feel like a slouch.  That woman didn't stop from the time her eyes opened until they closed.  "There is always something to be done and the Lord loves it when peoples work," she would say.  I learned that Miss Pippy was the youngest of 18 children.  Her great grandmother was a slave in Georgia for the Harrell family.  In fact, she had her great grandmother's and great grandfather's freedom papers.  She has married and buried 3 husbands.  Had 9 children of her own.  Miss Pippy's family were share croppers and all were required to stop working after 6th grade to work the land.  I learned she had had a rough life and yet seemed to accept hardship, ignorance and heartache with a grace I had never seen before or since.

What did Miss Pippy teach me?  She taught me to love even if I didn't want to.  She showed that adversity only makes us stronger.  She uttered the phrase which is one of my personal mantra's "every time you do me wrong I will do more good."  She taught me so much I cannot even begin to gather my thoughts enough to try and put them down in this blog.

I taught Miss Pippy to read and write.  I educated her about homosexuals.  One of her sons, Gerald was gay and she had lost touch with him.  I would like to think they started talking again because of me.  I taught her a little about Judaism.   We spent many hours sipping sweet tea and talking.  She taught me how to put a "good scald on chicken" when frying it.  She explained what it was like to be black, a woman and living in the south.  Most of all she taught me what is was to be a man.  To be honorable even though a person my not deserve it.

I miss Miss Pippy now.  As she would say, "she has gone on to her maker."  She died as gracefully as she lived.  Quietly, at home, surrounded by all of us that loved and admired her.  It was where she was the happiest.  I consider Miss Pippy the mother I never had and all of her children are my brothers and sisters.  They consider me part of their family.  All of us that were brought together by this remarkable woman still remain in touch.  Birthdays, marriages, graduations from high school and even colleges now.

I have 3 things that belonged to Miss Pippy.  I have her cast iron skillet (for all that fried chicken), I have a pair of her little white gloves she wore to church every Sunday and a quilt her mother made.  I am sitting with the quilt right now and feel Miss Pippy around me.  The quilt is on loan from her family.  It tells the story of the marriages, births, and deaths of her family.  It will be returned to the Harrell family upon my death, as should be.  I am looking out my window, its snowing and blustery.  I feel so filled with love for this simple, black, short, beautiful woman who have me my humanity back at a time in my life when I felt I had so little.  Her lessons were always simple but profound.  I nicknamed her the chestnut Confucius.  She always had a one liner which fit the situation and would up lift you.

I remember you Miss Praleene  "Pippy" Harrell, of Gwinnett County, GA.  I miss you and promise you that all you taught me, made me see and showed me continues in me.  I share you and your lessons every chance I get.  I wanted to honor you, being this is the week we celebrate great women, for you were, are and always be my hero, my friend and the truest essence of a what a women is.  

The Reza-lution? Reza Is A Self-Loathing Gay

While I sat at my laptop patiently awaiting some form of an epiphany to come my way regarding what I witnessed watching Bravo's reunion show of The Real Shahs Of Sunset my mind wandered.  It wandered to why many gay men behave as Reza Farhan does?  Why the constant flitting from one doomed relationship to another, why the obsession with bodies, why the constant pursuit of sex and the feverish calculation of smoldering stares from strangers on the street? Why is nothing enough? There never seems to be enough sex to be had, nor a sufficient number of weights to be lifted, never enough admiration to be received. At the same time, none of it ever really matters. No one ever seems any happier, any less depressed or dissatisfied, for all the scores scored and pounds lost and lavish lives lived.

I’ve noticed that often gay men are the least equipped to empathize.  Some train themselves to not care, they place ourselves in a rigid existence of emotional self-denial. Outwardly, they appear to be the most extravagant of hedonists, denying themselves nothing, neither drugs nor booze nor steroids nor sex. Inwardly, however, they lead lives of self-denial with a monastic fervor some saints would envy.

So what is the right age for this kind of brazen attitude?  20, 25 years old? — but 35 or 40 (Reza's age), I cringe at this type of self-delusion. You really have to wonder what’s wrong with a guy who talks of disposing of lovers like used condoms — or why a gay man would consider this kind of behavior toward another gay man acceptable.  This is why I find Reza Farhan and his actions so appalling.  What  might be normal and even remotely acceptable behavior at 20 is not only no longer acceptable at 40 but is shameful and offensive, to say the very least.

Reza's behavior results from a primal form of self-loathing. It's hard to recognize because he shrouds it in the guise of high standards, the great search for the unattainable. “I want my boyfriend but I want to play around, I am just just being more honest than about it than everyone else.”  Like many gay men, Reza attempts to make himself unattainable through the lavish lifestyle and attitude that he is better than everyone else.  The constant, almost embarrassing way Reza "one ups" those around him by wearing only the latest styles and labels of the day, rejecting any and all lesser physical specimens are clear signs of his self-loathing behaviors.  What Reza is forgetting is youth is not forever, that bodies betray us and that nothing evens the score like age.

With Reza, and his actions on the show this banal embrace of delusion finds its apogee in butch, deviant culture, which excludes everyone who’s not young, pretty and appearing to be wealthy.  We see Reza as the “Daddy,” the hairiest one, the one most eager to sniff the arm pit of some young, feminine twink, who buys the drinks, pays for the weekend get-a-ways.  He is setting himself for a series of doomed relationships that will only end in his humiliation.  Hence, for him, re-enforcing a very negative core belief that being gay is bad, wrong and against G-d and nature.

Ironically, gay men pursue sex with a constancy and fervor unrivaled by any other humans because they want to be rejected: They need the daily fix of humiliation that so often stems from seeking out intimate contact. It’s not the casual sex or the seedy environment that creates the debasement. Its the fact most self-loathing gay men do not apply the same set of moral and social guidelines to gay sexual/relationships and in doing so just want to feel bad about themselves.  This is the daily interactive trafficking in self-loathing, and gay men have turned it inside out, creating an exquisite origami of self disgust. 

What outraged me all the more about Reza and his very cavalier attitude on the show and during the reunion was they way he had not one clue about how is actions would affect the rest of the "us" the gay community.  While I believe in Reza's right to act and do what he wants within the context of his own life, I cannot, I will not condone him getting on a national platform and speaking on behalf of the gay community in general, which he has several times.

Its very easy to live in a gilded life where his money can buy him fake smiles and acceptance but the very real fact of the matter is the rest of us, the majority of us, do not have that luxury.  We live in the real world.  Next door to people who still, even in 2013 find homosexuality wrong and in many cases punishable by death.

I have said it many times and will continue to do so.  It is the responsibility of every openly gay man, lesbian and transgender to educate as we go through life.  What Reza, Bravo and even Andy Cohen have done is to perpetrate very well known negative stigma's that not only hurt the gay community, but confirm for homophobes that WE ARE ALL SOME BUNCH OF DEVIANTS and as such do not deserve equality nor fair treatment.

I will not continue to watch The Shahs of Sunset.  I found every single cast member repulsive, troubled and in the end sad.  I find myself saddened by Bravo, Reza, Andy Cohen who have all failed to realize what a golden opportunity they have thrown away.  The opportunity to showcase open, successful gay men and women in a positive way.  To give the gay youth role models.  To show them they can have happy, loving successful lives.  Instead they have been shown the underbelly of gay culture.  

I would welcome the chance to sit down with Andy Cohen, Reza Farhan and even Bravo executives to find a way to put out good programming which would be successful for Bravo, provide positive gay images and educate the public.  I know this will never happen, but I can dream can't I? 

Drinking And Tweeting: A Review of Brandi Glanville's Book

I was so excited when opening my tablet/ereader and seeing Brandi Glanville's book, Drinking and Tweeting was available for purchase.  I like Brandi.  I was over joyed to see her added to the cast of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.  I find Brandi to be real, a breath of fresh air and absolutely beautiful to look at.  Her quirky, self deprecating humor and low tolerance for bullshit make watching her on the show fun.

As I sat down to read Brandi's book one thing struck me right away.  This is a woman who has been wronged but I was not hearing the all too familiar "oh please be nice to me, I am a victim."  What I did hear was the pain of a woman who had a husband, Eddie Cibrian who is a serial cheater and an Archduke of Douche bags.

Its an easy read.  Almost as if you are sitting down and sharing a glass of wine with Brandi and you are talking with her.  I think her co-author really knew how to focus Brandi, keep the book moving along but kept to the spirit of Brandi.  The fact she used hash tags throughout the book to punctuate a lesson she learned tickled me.

With that being said, I was a little disappointed by the book.  It came across as one long press conference.  It was about Eddie, Leann and all the trials and tribulations Brandi has had to endure.  I understand it was her version of the ugly mess that Eddie and Leann put her through but I was hoping there would be some insight to who Brandi really was, as a person, as woman.  This book did not tell me any of that.  What this book did deliver was the break up of a very dysfunctional marriage and how she came through it.  Almost every page slammed either Leann or Eddie.  Okay I get it, this is Brandi's "E True Hollywood Story".

What I didn't get was anything new about Brandi.  What are her hobbies?  Where did she go to school? Some great memories about her modeling in Europe?  What was her childhood like? The book was promoted as a tell all and in some ways it was salacious but really?  Most of what was in the book was already fairly common knowledge.

I really wanted to get to know Brandi, sans the Eddie and Leann angles.  I like Brandi because we can all relate to her.  She makes a lot of the same mistakes, blunders and remarks we all have in similar situations.  I wanted to get a glimpse into the core of who Brandi is.  What her thoughts are or even some funny situations she might have had interacting with other celebs.  Now that would have made some good reading.

I purchased the book for $9.99 through Amazon.com and have to say I don't think it was worth much more than that price.  In the end, I found most of my thoughts and opinions on Brandi were confirmed.  This is a beautiful, smart, endearing, brutally honest woman who embraces her mistakes, enjoys life and has been through a lot.  I was glad to see her surviving and thriving rather than portraying herself as yet another victim of a man.  Her views on what went wrong in her marriage and how she could have handled things differently show me she has chosen to concentrate on herself rather than wage a war on her ex.  I find her devotion and honesty with her children to be inspiring and leaves me with hope.

In the end I find this book to be Brandi closing the door once and for all, on the whole Eddie and Leann saga and opening another door for herself.  I think Eddie and Leann come from a place of guilt and are hell bent on justifying what they did to Brandi, and her sons.  I have to giggle because Eddie and Leann are somehow, to me,  acting out in real life some sort of twisted country song that we most likely will see Leann sing as some point.

I don't ever see the three of them interacting in a healthy way.  Eddie doesn't seem to be the type of person who is able to admit he was wrong, apologize and behave like an adult.  Eddie is a B-List actor who is very pretty, has questionable acting skills and an over-inflated sense of his own worth.  Leann is a child star who has been raised in, as Brandi said, "a yes environment" where anything and everything she does or say is okay because she is surrounded by people whose paychecks depend on pleasing her.  Not pretty.

What I have found and have blogged about previously is how Eddie has never really been confronted by the public for his behaviors.  People really seem to concentrate on Leann as the home wrecker, which is true, but she couldn't have wrecked a  home if Eddie had his pecker in pants where it should have been.  I guess its just another fine example how even woman are misogynists.  Women get very angry at Leann but somehow Eddie seems to skate through this whole mess without every getting some of the backlash that Leann has had to deal with.

My hope is that we will see Brandi keep growing and evolving into the lovely woman I believe she is. For me she is a flower who is budding and getting ready to open up and show us the magnificence of all that she is.  Would I recommend for people to buy this book?  Probably.  Its a light read and as for any literary value, there is none.  From a strictly entertaining, pop culture perspective its fine.  Hopefully Brandi can now move on and close this chapter in her life and be done with the whole ugly mess.

By the way, I wrote this blog entirely sober, so I think Brandi would be proud of me.  Smooches Brandi and see you on the show.....oxo your devoted fan Lucien.