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I always dread filing taxes even though I’m single with no dependents, no property and everything is pretty much straight forward with the help of an online service. Nonetheless, I like doing the deed on a Sunday morning after breakfast, before my morning hot yoga class. Sounds extremely specific, to the point of ritual, but at least I get it done.
This time around, took me a record 38 minutes to complete, thanks to my W-2 preloading and last year’s return information conveniently loading.
As unimpressed as I’ve been by the federal government lately, they put a few more coins in my pocket. Not going into specifics just in case the kleptocrats want that pittance back. As my middle school principal once said, “Some people will steal the pennies off a dead man’s eyes.”
Up next, state taxes. Fourteen years of living in Texas spoiled me. Never had to pay state tax in the Lone Star State. Since relocating to NC, I’ve been underwhelmed by my state returns, but the 2025 refund took the cake: $1. That’s right, no zeroes after the one. Cannot even put an “s” at the end of “dollar.”
Of course, I’m grateful that I didn’t owe money, but the result motivated me to undertake a new 2026 challenge: find more than a $1 just going about my life. Should be easy since I normally watch where I’m walking.
As a matter of fact, since I found a penny at the laundromat the day before filing taxes, I’ve got 99 cents to go. Marked it on my calendar. Who knows how many pennies I’ll find now that they’re no longer being made and may actually be worth far more. Not the point.
I want to prove that Fate will put more money in my pocket than the great state of North Carolina. Let the games begin!
For the second year in a row, I hosted a Galentine’s Day indoor skydiving excursion. I sported a “Boss” T-shirt for the occasion to dispel any doubt who was in charge. Kidding. Not really.
I joked with the one friend who hadn’t ever flown before that she had to go first. To my surprise, she was game. We ended up flying from youngest to oldest, which still put her first. By that same logic, I went last, which was fine by me since I believe, as the host, guests should go first.
For the first time ever, I entered the wind chamber without any nervousness. Even our instructor commented on how relaxed I was during my flying time. Thank goodness my sister was there to take pictures and videos. I had no sense of how high I’d flown on my own.
This time of year, there’s an indoor flying competition; so several teams were present. We shared our flight time with a team who practiced different configurations in between our flights. At least two of the competitors looked older than me. If I ever get an opportunity to retire, I’ll add this sport to my routine. (How I wish there was a word with more pizzazz than “routine” or “hobby” to describe something one enjoys doing on a regular basis.)
The moment I had been waiting for, the second flight to go to the highest level. The only way the experience could have been more thrilling was to do tricks, which may occur in the future when I have more time and money.
As a matter of fact, while we waited to have our preflight safety class, there was a lone flyer who worked on technique one-on-one with an instructor. That’s truly the way to do it. As for now, I cannot afford to drop a few hundred dollars for ten minutes of instruction.
I enjoy getting together with friends once a year to fly. And my sister, who’s only flown once and crossed it off her bucket list, mainly looked forward to the post flight lunch. She recommended a nearby Peruvian place, which was delicious.
There’s something about completing a fun group activity that makes delicious food taste even better. The conversation flew around as animatedly as we’d each flown, making the whole experience one of the best Valentine’s days I’ve had.
After being out of school, both as a student and a teacher, I don’t wish for snow. I already work from home; so I don’t get snow days. What I get is snowed in, which means that after a long day at work, I don’t get the mental and physical salvation of exercising with other like-minded people.
As a matter of fact, the biggest treat this time around was Mom making snowcream. Never use the first-fallen snow, which conventional wisdom says is full of air pollution, nor the yellow snow. The best quality is the last-fallen fluffy snow.
Since we had plenty of precipitation forewarning, Mom made sure she had the ingredients to make snowcream: vanilla extract, sugar, and sweetened condensed milk. All she needed me to do was gather the final ingredient.
She actually thought I was going to get snow off the patio table…and risk a slip and fall going down those patio steps?! Instead I remained on level ground while carefully padding out to lob two humongous scoops of snow off the hood of her car, which was more than enough.
Mom whipped up that delicious dessert like a pro. Although we don’t often get snow like this, it’s wonderful to commemorate the rare snowfall with an edible, seasonal ingredient.
Don’t let the container fool you. No Cool Whip was used in the making of snowcream. Just a reminder of the ubiquitous plastic containers that we repurpose for just such occasion.
I paired my snowcream with a brownie and Malbec. Malbec with chocolate is my long time favorite dessert, especially dark chocolate. The brownie and snowcream went well together, but I cannot really say that Malbec and ice cream can ever be a good pairing.
There’s a reason one doesn’t normally pair ice cream with wine. Nonetheless, I took one for the team.
Whenever I receive a gift card, I always use it to support one of my hobbies. In this case, one purchase supported two interests: pole dancing and swimming.
I used the latest Christmas gift card to pay for half of a stylish two-piece swimsuit. I’ve worn other two-pieces to pole class before, but I’ve never worn something off the shoulder, which I was sure would work well on the pole.
As soon as we finished our warm up, I removed the outer layer of clothing to reveal my new “pole outfit.” Another student yelled across the room that she loved what I was wearing. At the end of class, I invited my spin pole instructor to join me for a picture.
When I shared the pictures with my sisters, one remarked that we looked cute. The other said, “Ya’ll look like Amazons.”
When I was a child, I wanted to be an Amazon a la Wonder Woman. Strong, beautiful and smart. This may be the closest I can come to that.
The following week, I tested out swimming in the new suit. To my surprise, I didn’t fight with the top while lap swimming, especially when I swam the butterfly. I feared that my left breast would fly out. No wardrobe malfunction on the inaugural swim.
The ultimate test was wearing it to the other pole dance class: Introduction to Inverts. Sure, I fidgeted a little with the top during the warm up, but once I got into the thick of practicing upside-down maneuvers on the pole, I forgot all about my attire. My energy went into executing the maneuvers. Happy to report that even through that strenuous exercise, everything held up and tucked in.
I hardly ever buy clothes, but every now and then, I enjoy working out in fun workout clothes.
When I brainstormed about what to gift my family for Christmas, my answer combined my filmmaking aspirations with sound bath healing. This was my fourth year in a row to observe non-materialistic Christmas gift-giving.
“Abundance” featured in the film. The more I meditated, I realized that every situation could be reframed with abundance in mind. For example, one of my favorite gifts to myself, especially during the holiday season, is an abundance of unscheduled time whenever I take paid leave from work.
Apparently, this time around, I took too much paid time off. Weeks after the fact, I learned that paid time off (PTO) taken in 2025 wouldn’t be covered by accrued PTO in 2026. At least I benefited from a wonderful Christmas-Kwanzaa break with the luxury of time.
I started the new year off with a smaller paycheck than usual. The exact opposite of financial abundance. Yet, I reframed that experience to “I paid for my latest staycation.” Besides, with my new position, I had to work on MLK Day. A situation that helped recoup some of the money I’d lost since working holidays have a pay rate of two and a half times.
Another instance of abundance occurred when I discovered that I had to record 15 hours of me teaching yoga as part of the 200-hour yoga instructor certification, starting in mid-February. Our house was still under renovation, but even before that, I didn’t have a distraction-free area to record my instruction.
Much to my annoyance, I had to reach out to other people. Yet, I received an abundance of support. The first was from the yoga teacher who’d sent me the link to sign up for the course. The second was from my stretch and flex teacher who also owned a hair salon where we could set up and practice. Finally, my pole dancing teacher, who also owned the studio, agreed to let me use the auxiliary room on Sundays when no classes were scheduled.
All I had to do was ask.
Then, without asking, my car insurance inexplicably decreased by $50 for six months’ coverage. Plus, I’d forgotten that after being at my gym for three years that I’d be able to pay a flat annual fee, saving me over $500 a year.
I’d been raised to count my blessings. As an adult, I’m thankful that I’ve learned the lesson of how abundance interacts with those blessings. Blessings are the wonderful things in your life. Being aware of abundance in these situations is to be mindful that those wonderful things are enough.
I attended a social event where we had name tags. Never thought such a good idea could go sideways. After all, how memorable are most people that you catch their names the first time around? The convenience of name tags is golden.
Until it isn’t.
At the end of the event, I pulled off my name tag and placed it on my to-go box. As I reminded everyone else near me to remove their name tags, one friend became intrigued with a mildly funny idea: sneak her name tag on some unsuspecting person while patting them on the back.
I witnessed her workshop the idea out loud as we exited the venue. Unfortunately, she chose me as her mark. Despite my batting her hand away and protests, she wouldn’t let it go until we were out in the parking lot.
As I reached the driver’s side of my car, she passed on the passenger’s side with a mischievous expression on her face.
Did that bitch just put her name tag on my paint job?
She sure in the hell had.
Usually, I mitigate my temper, but I retaliated by ripping her name tag off my car and sticking it on her back window since she had conveniently parked in the row behind me.
My mind churned as I drove home: 1) What grown-ass person does that; 2) how the hell could I remove the remains of the name tag; and 3) why was I THAT mad about the whole incident?
Once home, I dampened a paper towel to remove the stuck-on paper, but the clear glue remained. At least it no longer looked like a bird had shat on my car. Mom suggested using cooking oil to remove the rest. Yet, I felt as if I’d already spent too much energy on that dumb shit.
Afterall, I’d bought my car brand new in 2009 and that 17-year-old paint job showed its age. Unless I pointed out the name tag residue, one would have challenging time finding it.
Nonetheless, I don’t want to drive a junk-mobile. For someone who hardly ever gets her car washed, it’s relatively clean, especially on the inside since I don’t drive around with clutter.
That name tag prank pierced at the heart of my money anxieties. I’d bought my car when relocating to the States after eight years of teaching internationally. Back then I had a significant savings. In 17 years, I’m no longer a full-time teacher, living on my own nor making enough money for a true savings.
I live with my parents, so my “savings” are the result of not having to pay rent. I’ve never been a spendthrift. Yet, those evil twins, wage stagnation and rising inflation, continue to bite my salary in the ass.
Don’t even get me started on being underemployed based on my education and experience. People with more lucrative jobs have less job security than I do. At least complex customer service cannot be easily replaced by AI right now.
Since the COVID shutdown, I’ve floundered financially. Although I’ve made the best of my work situation, every internal move I’ve made at work has been lateral. Any interesting work that comes with a pay bump has been attached to working evenings and/or weekends.
The only things that have helped keep me sane have been exercise classes that I take after work. Those are definitely worth the investment for my well-being. As much as I enjoy working from home, I still need interaction with other people in real life.
Once my flared temper dissipated, I messaged her about the incident. Hours later, she acknowledged her actions and offered a sincere apology.
That residue will probably be a permanent part of the car. At least it’s no longer a trigger.
Whether one takes the Bad Bunny challenge to learn Spanish in the four months between him hosting SNL and headlining the Super Bowl, or prepares for the consequences of POTUS’ announcement that the US will “run” Venezuela until a “safe, proper and judicious transition can be ensured,” ’tis the season to learn a new language. Or in my case, reboot a language.
In another chapter of my life, I was an international math/science/ESL teacher. I’d taught in five different countries outside the States with the last two being Mexico and Honduras. Even though I taught and mostly socialized in English, being immersed in Spanish was the best way to learn the language.
When I returned to the States in 2009, the motivation to study Spanish evaporated. I still understood what I heard and read, especially since relocating to Texas, but I didn’t really “need” to speak Spanish in order to navigate through life.
In 2014, I travelled to Peru with a small group of other American women. In preparation for that trip, I studied Spanish lessons online, using the same program as American embassy diplomats. Toward the end of my visit, my fluency had bounced back.
Then, I returned to the States.
Since streaming has become a regular habit, I recently turned on the Spanish subtitles while listening in English. This compromise has been available for most of the programing I watch.
The only thing that lessens my language acquisition is that I never simply sit down to binge-watch movies/shows. I’m usually reading, answering emails, or my absolute favorite, digitally illustrating.
When my eyes aren’t watching the screen, I’m not getting my impromptu Spanish lesson, but at least I have the opportunity to practice when I look.
The real impetus for rebooting my Spanish-speaking ability this time around was in preparation for a recently-formed Spanish practice group. The organizer, who’s half Puerto Rican, wanted to learn Spanish because she felt excluded during some family gatherings.
I hope she’ll continue meeting at local restaurants that serve Mexican and South American cuisine and, of course bebidas alcoholicas. That initial event hammered out the details.
Everyone except for me are able to attend either Thursday evenings or Saturday afternoons. I’m exclusively a Saturday afternoon/evening attendee due to my Monday through Friday evening yoga/dance/swimming schedule.
I advised the first-time organizer to plan future events based on what best suited her needs since, if she asked 10 different people, she’d probably get 10 different answers. The bottom line is to make the group work for her so she’ll remain motivated to continue it.
My greatest gift to myself during the Christmas-Kwanzaa break was unscheduled time. As much as my remaining PTO covered. I lived out the artist’s dream of indulging my entire day with juggling a few creative projects.
In between projects and errands/chores, I attended exercise classes. My first class for 2026 was hot yoga where the instructor passed out affirmation cards for “bad asses.” I pulled a card that resonated with me.
Every morning, I wake up with a sense of purpose for what needs to be accomplished. The only way I finish large projects is to do a little at a time during the work week and even more on the weekends.
After completing a short film for my family as their Christmas gift, I brainstormed what to do next. I haven’t settled on anything this early in the year although I’ve thought about finally trying my hand with animation. For that, I’d need voice actors. Actually, anyone fluent in English would do. Not going to raise the bar too high for the rate I’m paying.
Just like that, a MeetUp invitation appeared in my email to have dinner at a new nearby restaurant which boasted of a menu with locally sourced food and different in-house beers and cider on tap. The whole vibe reminded me of something that I’d taken for granted back in Austin.
I’ll start attending more of these events in order to get a selection of voice actors. Usually, I socialize through exercise classes. I’ll get more acquainted with my fellow yogi/dancer because you never know what talented person is dancing/doing yoga right beside you.
Given the time of the year, if anyone bothers to ask what’s my New Year’s resolution, I’ll say, “Recruiting voice actors for an upcoming animation project.” That should get the ball rolling.
I started disliking my primary care physician in the middle of 2025 when she kept giving me the same “advice” that she’d given before despite our previous conversations. I mistakenly thought that she would tailor her practice based on the patient in front of her. Instead, she kept acting as if I weren’t in menopause.
A part of me wished that sweet young thang a nice long life. Long enough for her to enter menopause and regret all the bad advice she’d given patients like me. By the end of the year, I had a new PCP.
For most of my adult life, I’d chosen women healthcare professionals since their firsthand experience of being women led me to believe that I would receive better care, especially if they were women of color. A rarity.
Now, that I’m middle aged, I realize that, in addition to having a woman as my PCP, I need an older woman. Older PCPs won’t condescend to me about having to lose weight because she’ll already know what a losing battle that is without HRT (hormone replacement therapy), an appetite suppressant, or some other intervention therapy to address the effects of a declining estrogen level.
The “exercise more and eat healthy” advice falls flat. I already exercise on a daily basis, don’t over eat, and have improved my diet. Even though I’m stronger and more flexible, I’m about 15 pounds heavier than I was in perimenopause.
Additionally, when lab work returned that my calcium level was elevated, a condition known as hypercalcemia, my former PCP never advised me about what may have caused that. I’d simply asked if taking calcium twice a day for the full daily amount could have contributed. She agreed and I adjusted by taking my calcium supplement once a day. End of story.
Except…
I’d requested a DEXA scan. The former PCP informed me that I didn’t need one until I was around 65, but I insisted.
I don’t want to be superstitious and say that I felt it in my bones that I needed a bone density test. Or that an angel had whispered in my ear that something stirred in my bones.
Whatever the case, the results revealed osteopenia in my left pelvic region. Upon reading that, my first thought was, “That bitch would have had me wait a decade later to get my DEXA scan and by then, I could’ve had osteoporosis!”
I took several deep breaths, comforting myself that I no longer had that PCP.
Once I researched the condition, I learned that osteopenia led to elevated calcium levels. Breast cancer can also cause hypercalcemia. My former PCP addressed neither possibility.
On a more positive note, my new PCP, an older woman who was familiar with HRT, messaged me that my latest lab work showed that my calcium levels were normal and that we’d discuss next steps in April.
In the meantime, one of my friends, who occasionally took dance classes with me and taught yoga, gifted me a discounted yoga instructor package. Since the cost was the same regardless of whether I registered for 200, 300, or 500 hours, I signed up to get the biggest bang for my buck.
When they emailed a reading list, I enthusiastically checked out three of those ebook titles from the library. I dedicated myself to taking a copious amount of notes. Not only was I too cheap to buy the books, but I also wanted to be mindful of not adding to the collection of material things. Besides, I supplemented my notes with online searches, mainly to define terms.
One ebook motivated me to research which poses were effective for addressing osteopenia in my pelvis and another pose to address my piriformis syndrome. I’d never even heard of that body part before.
One day in yoga class, I described a pain I experienced. The instructor, who used to be a massage therapist, informed me that it was probably caused by my piriformis, not merely a tight hip. Up until that point, I’d stretched to loosen my external hip muscles (abductors) with mixed results.
The full circle moment came when I researched relieving my piriformis through yoga. I’d already known of the stretch: pyramid pose. Doing that posture a few times a day, did more for the pain than temporarily numbing the muscles. I’d bought a collection of topicals to see which one worked the best. Instead, all I had to do was take about two minutes a few times throughout the day to stretch.
I’d bought a standing desk to help break up long periods of sitting while at work. Now, I’ll incorporate stretches in addition to that.
In previous years, I’d chosen challenging yoga moves to target an area that needed more conditioning, in terms of strength and flexibility. Now, I’m targeting poses to alleviate pain. As one yoga studio advertised: Yoga Is Medicine.
I started working on my New Year’s resolution to swim half a mile, then practice straddle splits in the dry sauna about a week into January. I hadn’t planned to change from my milelong swim goal until I was actually in the pool and the goal no longer motivated me. That had been last year’s goal, which I’d achieved, but now that I’d accomplished it, the thrill was gone. I reached the straddle splits goal sooner than I thought and started conditioning to put my leg behind my head AKA Compass Pose.
Along with a new workout goal, of course I added a new activity: axe throwing. This was originally part of a social group outing, but when the host cancelled, I went by myself. Some friends had told me how relaxing the sport was while my capoeira friends congratulated my preparation for when society collapsed. Although I enjoyed the experience, I wouldn’t do it again until months later when my nephew came into town.
For this year’s Galentine’s Day celebration, but I convinced two friends to go indoor skydiving with me. They’d always wanted to try, but had never gotten around to it. Social Organizer Teresa to the rescue! I’d only done it one time before, so they made me go first since I had “more experience.” This time around, I got to soar to the very top on my third trip up. Afterwards, one friend wanted to jump out of a real plane and the other wanted to return the next day. Um, no and perhaps later, as in the following year around the same time.
At the end of March, I finished my six-month online study for my pharmacy tech license. The part I hated the most was cramming facts about 600 medications although I came up with some fun mnemonics: OMG, Al gave Dara herpes. [Generic: imiquimod; Brand: Aldara; Class: Antiviral; Indication: genital herpes]. Cold Chics Cry about gout. [Generic: Colchicine; Brand: Colcrys; Class: Anti-gout; Indication: Gout].
All that studying and rote memorization paid off in the beginning of April when I passed the pharmacy tech exam with 95%. A few weeks later, we celebrated all the April birthdays: my father, sister, nephew and niece.
In May, I secured a new position at work as a training assistant. Once a teacher, always a teacher. Then for Mother’s Day, I treated Mom and my sister, who’s also a mother, to brunch. We strolled around the block for a wine tasting afterwards.
I started off June with a weekend visit to our timeshare at Myrtle Beach. My parents have had that timeshare for nearly 30 years. They finally ended the contract; so I’m glad I got to chill there one last time.
I absolutely loved this year’s Strange family reunion at the end of June. Not only did I interview 21 relatives, resulting in the best (and longest) episode of the “Strange Family Folklore” podcast to date, but we finally included one of my favorite pastimes, dressing up. Our theme was to dress as your favorite decade. My 60s costume transformed me radically since I wore an Afro wig. Relatives who’d known me all my life, didn’t recognize me.
In July, I took a phenomenal two-week vacation in Ghana, prompting me to work on an 18-week writing project spread over 16 blog posts about the experience. This was the first time I’d written a series since starting my weekly blog in 2011. https://www.mathdreads.com/?cat=42
Continuing my pole fitness journey, I started taking a choreography flow class, then spin pole in August. After finally learning to engage my shoulders, I upped my game by taking two pole classes a week: spin and intro to inverts. At this rate, perhaps I’ll stop looking as if I’m undergoing a military drill and start looking as if I’m actually dancing. After all, pole class is just as strenuous as when I trained for capoeira.
During my birthday celebration, I invited my yoga teacher to “throw 5s,” representing my 55th year on this planet.
Afterwards, my family feasted on takeout, mainly because I wanted those tasty biscuits. Absolutely delicious although the restaurant surprised us with three styles of potatoes: mashed, fried and baked.
Of course I paired the meal with a glass of cabernet just before jetting off to my glorious 90-min full body massage.
I invited the massage therapist to “throw 5s” prior to the massage.
Never one to miss an opportunity to dress up, I used half of an Ahsoka costume to attend a Renaissance Faire fundraiser. Proceeds went toward a tiny home for an adult on the autism spectrum, so he could live independently.
Once again, we attended the Southeastern Regional Poetry Slam. At a smaller venue, but still packed the place with 11 powerful performances. The energy was through the roof. Almost made me wish I was still producing my own theme-inspired spoken word and storytelling show.
If I’d actually feared a long line on the last day of early voting for the primary, I didn’t have to worry or adjust my plans too much. I strongly believe in doing my civic duty prior to the collapse of civilization.
Oktoberfest turned out to be quieter than expected, but at least the food and cider were good.
I’ve never been a big fan of beer, but this selection intrigued me. We all sampled them a weekend at a time.
Not more than 100 yards away from “Oktoberfest” was another outdoor event with even more food options.
Not a moment too soon, Halloween season officially began with my first costume, Foxy Brown, at the Pole-O-Ween event.
For the first time ever, I attended downtown Fayetteville’s Zombie Walk. My sister and I had the right idea: put our names on the waitlist for our favorite Italian restaurant, then stroll to check out all the other costumes.
Since Halloween fell on a Friday this year, I ended the week with a partial zombie costume for my virtual training group. Only two of my trainees wore a head decoration, but everyone raised at least a RAWR claw.
Never impressed with all the Christmas decorations after Halloween, we made the best of the backdrop for our group yoga and wine picture.
Speaking of wine, I was in no mood to prepare a side dish for Thanksgiving. Instead, I prepped my jacket with a half bottle of red and my infamous silver chalice.
Like a bad cliche, the day after Thanksgiving, while everyone else celebrated Black Friday, we were among the unfortunate observers of Brown Friday. The half bathroom in the lower part of the house, near the laundry room and my bedroom, flooded. In exploring the plumbing problem, they discovered an asbestos problem. I was like the woman in the bubble, having to unzip and zip up two temporary plastic doors to go to and from my bedroom. The silver linings: 1) getting my steps and squats in, coming and going to my bedroom; 2) the peacefulness of the nearby laundromat; and 3) still finding occasions to play dress up!
First dress-up occasion: watching a live performance where dancers dressed up as characters from popular children’s stories. One of my friends danced as the Cheshire Cat.
For the second costume opportunity, I dressed as the only Black Who from Whoville at a Christmas-themed dance performance. Always a good time, especially with my “fancy” wine jacket. In other words, I stuffed my small wine bottle and chalice into the pockets of a faux fur coat.
No Christmas season would be complete without our annual Strange Family Reunion Virtual Christmas party, where, once again, I brought home the gold!
Finally, two days after Christmas on Saturday, or on Day Two of Kwanzaa, Kujichagulia (Self-Determination), all the family gathered together in the living room to watch a short film, Abundance Blessings, that I’d gifted to the family. I’d sworn off giving materialistic gifts back in 2022 and have focused on family events instead.
