Aleta’s Tips on How to Not Get Murdered Before You’re 29

Okay, so, as many of you know...when I get hooked on something--a book series, television show, etc.--I become hopelessly obsessed and can’t shut up about it. This is true about the podcast Crime Junkies. I’ve now gotten several other people hooked, and I’m not even sorry. Not even a smidge.

One of those said people is my partner in crime and best friend KW. To give a little backstory, we met in Kindergarten and became best friends in the 3rd Grade. She’s been true blue since way back.

Anywho, now that KW is now hooked on the podcast too, we just keep saying to each other “How did we NOT die?” Particularly “how did we not die back when we used to party in our early 20s?” And the inspiration for this post was born...

Tonight, I’m going to impart a little knowledge on how to survive and NOT wind up dead before you’re 29. All I’m going to say is...learn from my mistakes, y’all...learn from my mistakes.

I will start with a story.... Picture it... 2014...Carrabelle. (I hate to even say that it was this recent, because I was 28 and “shoulda known better.” But alas, I am a slow learner...)

Before I begin, please realize that KW was a happily married lady at this point, and therefore, she went along with this because of nudging from her idiot friend. (raises hand) Me. I’m the idiot friend.

We had first trekked over to our favorite haunt, Harry’s...which is the best little hole in the wall bar until about 10 when the smoke gets so thick you can’t handle it anymore. Then we ventured to the new bar by the marina to hear the local talent play until the wee hours of the morning. It had a nice outdoor area where you could “air out” after leaving Harry’s smelling like a 70 year-old two-pack-a-day smoker. Some of our old, local friends that we hadn’t seen in years came up and sat with us for a bit... which brings me to...

Life Lesson #1: Don’t unknowingly befriend local drug dealers in your vacation/party town. (In our defense, the drug dealer ratio is rather high in those parts, and therefore we did not know in the beginning)

Life Lesson #2: Neck Tattoos possibly done by some guy named “Acid” or “Snake” should probably have been a red flag.

After the local guys left, we had some Tallahassee guys come over. I think I was trying to get over somebody...maybe? So one of them piqued my interest. He was much older.... but even on a good day, I can’t math. I spent half the night trying to figure out if he’d told me he was 20 or 30 years older than me. His hair was grey and I knew I was dealing with a man that was somewhere between 48 and 58.

Get your mind out of the gutter...nothing happened that night. He had his son with him. Ahem...

Life Lesson #3: Don’t get all googly-eyed over a middle-aged man that brings his barefoot 14 year old son to a bar! (I have no words. 28 year old Aleta was a dope).

So, the night was really nice. I am going to use code names here (mainly because I can’t remember what their names actually were at this point). Alan and Doug were super nice and funny. We enjoyed talking to them. I think KW even got out on the dance floor with the 14 year old.

When the bar closed down, we parted ways and went back to our hotel room.

The next morning, we went to Apalach for a late breakfast at Caroline’s. As we were eating our chocolate chip pancakes and slurping down our coffee, my phone went off. It was Alan asking if we wanted to go out on the boat with them and go to Dog Island. KW called her husband to make sure it would be okay.

Life Lesson #4: Don’t go off with strangers!

Life Lesson #5: Don’t go off with strangers to an island that is not in any way patrolled by police that takes 30 minutes to get to by boat...with NO cell service! (side note: this island is where they host the annual White Trash Bash...RIIIIING RIIIING...hear the alarm bells?)

Life Lesson #6: If you ignore #4 and #5, please have the sense enough to give SOMEONE a pile of details about where you’re going and who you are with. Be like KW, kids.

It was fine...we were fine. We went swimming at Dog Island...which is beautiful, btw. We went back to Alan’s house and chatted for a while.

So, all jokes aside, while everything turned out completely fine that weekend...at any point, things could’ve went drastically wrong.

Now that I’ve told you that story, I’m going to give you some additional tips.

1. Don’t go partying at a town that is literally surrounded by the ocean and a thick forest called “Tate’s Hell.” There’s a whole lot of places to put a body. 
2. If you’re going to party, be very careful who you party with. 
3. Stay with your group/friends. 
4. Always give someone (or multiple people) a ridiculous amount of details of who you are with, what you are doing, and where you are going. 
5. Have a friend like KW. 

Stay safe, y’all.

Author’s Note: So, so many of our “How did we not die?” stories start and end in Carrabelle. I feel like I could post life lessons every day for a month about what we learned from that town. I reserve the right for a follow-up post...

Trying

Those closest to me know that I have an extremely difficult time processing emotions.  Which, is ironic, because I’m very much an empath.  I can feel other’s emotions...but when it comes to myself..I would much rather skip town than have to deal with or feel my own emotions.

This is precisely where I have found myself the past few weeks.  I know that I’m absolutely right in the place that I need to be.  Surrounded by the people that I need to be surrounded by.  But even as I sit typing this, I would be lying if I didn’t have an overwhelming urge to run away for a couple of weeks.  When things get real, I tend to run or withdraw.

You see, more than anything--in this very moment--I don’t want to fall or stumble.  I think that may be what scares me the most right now.

But here I sit, trying with all of my might.  And I hope that that counts for something in the long run.

A Testament

This morning, I considered writing this post, but quickly thereafter doubt and worry set in. After having all of my social media sites watched and scrutinized last year, I have held-fast to my privacy. I could live my whole life without again being the subject of gossip.

So, why am I sitting here typing away on my laptop, you ask? 

As I had decided not to write this, I came home to a package from a dear soul sister, Mrs. Liisa Collins tonight.  This wonderful woman has encouraged me since I was 9 years-old.  She has been an absolute blessing in my life.  She didn’t realize it...but the package that she sent was confirmation that I needed to write and post this. More about how that sweet lady ties in later.

In January of last year, I found myself terribly unhappy.  I won’t delve too much into it, but I was in a bad situation where I found myself constantly walking on eggshells.  He could be sweet on occasion, but he could be terribly mean and hurtful. With every text or call, I began to brace myself because I was never sure what I would get.

At this same time, I HATED my job.  There were a few sweet souls that were my only saving grace there. I wasn’t SO sure about my safety. I had been threatened with a pipe bomb.  I had someone literally come in and throw a bucket across the room at us.  I got yelled at daily by irate customers.  And we had very little support.  I absolutely hated it. 

I was out of church. I had a difficult time finding my place after the real “college and career”-age class.  I never felt like I could find a fit in church after that.  

I was deeply unhappy.

I tell you that, to set the tone.  So that you can fully understand the gravity of the chain of events this past year.

In January 2019, one Sunday when I just flat did not want to be at home alone when she went to church, I asked if I could just join Mom’s Sunday School class.  The Joy Sunday School class is a group of women around 50-70 years-old. That same Sunday I went to Church and to her Life Group “The Eclectic Group” (ages 45-80ish).  Now, I’m going to tell you what...the older folks?  Those are just my people.  I somehow found my place in the midst of those groups.

From 2016 to 2019, I had walked away from the aforementioned situation/relationship/whatever-you-want-to-call-it, and been drawn back in time and again.  In late January/early February of 2019, I walked away for good. I had prayed about it and knew this was the right move.  It would never grow me...and it would never be an ideal situation for me.

Though my parents had always tithed, and I had when I was younger, y’all know that I’m hardheaded.  It took me a hot minute to get back into the swing of tithing.  But in March, I began diligently tithing.  Ironically enough, along with being hardheaded, I am an infamous procrastinator....I didn’t actually file my taxes until March. (this comes into play in just a sec). 

On April 1st, when I learned that my direct supervisor was leaving, and I knew that I had to do something.  My mom told me about a position at my current company.  I applied on April 4th.  Completed questionnaires that weekend.  

On Monday, April 8th, I was fired over an Instagram post involving politics.  I was blindsided, but not one tear was shed.  That afternoon, I received a call from the HR Department of my current company requesting an interview on April 9th.  On April 10th, I was offered my position.  A company whose mission I believe in.  I was set to start on April 15th.

In reference to my tithing/late tax file?  The same week I was fired...I received my last paycheck, payment for my accrued PTO, and my tax refund.  Through the very short gap from my last paycheck to my first paycheck, I had that money to get me by. God is good.

I would love to say that the rest of the year was filled with sunshine and rainbows.  But there have been hard days too.  There have been days that I have cried the whole way home from work.  There have been days when I sorely missed my friends from my old job.  There have been times when I braced myself when checking my phone.  

I would love to say I'm the perfect Christian...but Lord knows, y'all...I'm not.  I fail DAILY.

This past Fall, I asked some very close ladies that I trusted to begin praying for me.  Mrs. Liisa Collins being one of them.  I had some specific prayer requests.  There were some things I needed to get through.  And while, I am not there just yet...I am getting there.

There is nothing greater than feeling like you are exactly where you need to be. I had faith (sometimes just the smallest smidge) that God would see me through, and y’all...He has seen me through. I believe this past year of my life has stood as a testament to that.

I hope that whoever finds themselves reading this will have faith that God will see you through the trying times.  Trials don't last forever.  I hope that you take time to see your daily blessings.  And if ever you need someone to pray for you, I am only a message away.

Finding My Way Back

At times, I am so very thankful for photographs.  They offer an everlasting glimpse back at a single moment in time.

I could look at the photograph below and pick myself apart.  But honestly, this photograph marks a huge turning point in my life.  February 5, 2016. The very day that this was taken, my mom, sister, and I were having family photos taken by the wonderful Jennifer Lazos. We were in the midst of the photo shoot when I received a text that would send my life on a course for three years.  

I look back on this photo, at this girl, and many days I wish I could return--not to this moment--but to who I was at this very moment in time.  This girl was full of confidence, and sass, and zest.

While I’m not there yet, and while I can’t return to who I was in 2016, I am trying to become an improved version of myself that the 2016 version could be proud of.

Boots on the Ground

Graphics by Chris Rogers (as always)

He was a part of my childhood as much as my jungle gym, or my Putt Putt car, or my dog, “Rosie Sprinkles.” Weaving in and out of my memories from third grade on.

Our adolescent years spent together preparing for Bible Drills, or livestock shows, or 4-H meetings. Many Sundays shared at Sunday School, Wednesday nights at Team Kid, and a Saturday every month at our Double Sink 4-H Club Meeting.

Many get-togethers were had. We had dinners at his house occasionally, at which I remember helping his grandmother put together puzzles; and swim parties and barbecues were had at my house during the summer months.

Eventually High School rolled around, and we had our separate groups, our separate friends. We still greeted each other in the morning, awaiting the first bell to ring; or while walking past each other in the hallway.

We graduated and went our separate ways, our families always staying close. He went into the Marines, and I went to college.

I sent letters while he was in boot camp. During his first deployment, I found a bracelet in Cedar Key that was said to bring “good luck.” I sent him one and kept one for myself, promising to say a prayer whenever I saw it. It hung from my car’s rearview mirror until he returned.

A few years later, his best friend came home, draped with an American flag. I sat amongst he and his family, as his friend’s family received that folded flag in place of his safe homecoming.

There were many nights after that funeral that I sat up riddled with worry about my friend. Praying that he would come home, and come home safely.

Years came and went and I wondered if civilian life would ever suit him. I worried about him struggling to find his place here again.

I am ever so grateful for those that serve and have served this country; wholeheartedly indebted to those that gave their lives in foreign deserts, on foreign beaches, on foreign soil. No words could ever express my gratitude.

But there is no greater sound than hearing his booming laugh at Easter...
Sharing a vacation with all of his family and mine in the mountains...
Seeing he and his wife’s excitement at the upcoming birth of their firstborn child, a son...

Yes, I am forever grateful to our service men and women; but oh, how thankful I am to have my friend’s boots on the ground...on American soil again.

Chic Metal Jewelry by Victoria Tillotson

I have got to let y'all in on my latest obsession: Chic Metal Jewelry made by Victoria Tillotson.

Y'all....I. Am. In. Love.

I first checked out her Instagram at the urging of my friend Beth.  Last Fall, I asked her to make me a special necklace for my mom for Christmas.  After seeing her incredible
work first-hand, I quickly decided that I wanted some pieces for my own self.

To date, I have asked Victoria to make me a natural ruby ring and a natural emerald ring.

Labradorite studs on the left.  Turquoise, citrine, opal, and golden tourmaline studs on the right.

One of my very favorite stones is labradorite.  I just love how it flashes different colors in the sunlight.  I asked Victoria if she could make me a set of earrings with 3mm, 4mm, and 6mm labradorite stones.

Turquoise stacker ring

I have also won a turquoise stacker ring,  fordite dangly earrings, and citrine, opal, turquoise, and golden tourmaline studs in an auction.  

Fordite Earrings

I will mention here that as an adult, I have struggled wearing earrings.  I seem to have sensitive skin, and my ears tend to get red and irritated with a lot of earrings.  I have not had this issue with my earrings from Victoria.  I LOVE them.

Unfortunately, I don't have photos of my simple hammered band and twig bands.  Those are actually probably some of my favorite pieces as they are the perfect accessory for a simple dress-down day.

For those of you who haven't checked her out on Instagram and Etsy, get on it!  I promise, you will love anything you get from her.  Also, if you aren't quite sure about a custom piece just yet, check out her Sunday auctions.   They are the perfect chance to snag some of her work.

Catching up

I have stated this a’ many a’ time, and it still rings true. There are times when it seems so easy to pour my heart out for all the world to see. Then, there are times when I cling to my privacy tenaciously.  I think the latter is where I have found myself the past few weeks. Perhaps that is just the fine line that a writer teeters along.

For those of you who know the situation (if not, read the previous post)...know this...I am still unrepentant and unapologetic. I will not apologize for speaking MY opinion on MY page. No matter what consequence befell me. That being said...I had a comment made to me the other night that I would like to address. I made the statement “I should have known that all of my social media was being stalked...there had been clues.” The person then said “It’s social media.” Well, that’s very true. Completely. I don’t disagree. However, I don’t believe that any of us consider someone watching every single thing we post, trying to determine whether or not they can take offense or use it against you in any way. That part is eery and a bit creepy to me. Even still, it feels like a violation. I cannot believe that they are doing that of the other hundred employees, 24/7.  At the time, all of my social media sites were public, because I often promote my blog. Let me just say...if you go to any page looking to BE offended...you’re going to GET offended by something. That’s just a fact. 

I have also had people tell me, rather indifferently, "Leave it in the past and move on."  A little easier said than done.  It's a little hard to do when your character is being challenged.

I am trying to stifle my anger. I am trying to not let this make me bitter. That is never a person I want to be. I believe that what we put out into the world we get back. I have to believe that those that sought to harm me and challenge my character ultimately have to look at their own selves in the mirror, and they have to sleep at night knowing what they’ve done. As my mama has always said, “They’ll have to answer for that one day.”

I won’t lie. It’s been hard. I have not wanted to post. I have not wanted to talk to people. I haven’t wanted to go anywhere, really. I have wanted to withdraw and just be around a handful of people. And what I am most regretful about is the fact that I have kept my new coworkers at arms length. Not wanting to get too close. Frankly, that is just not like me. That is not my personality. That’s not who I am. And that’s something that I’m working on, and trying to change.

I want to take a minute and talk about all of my blessings.

I am in love with my new job. It is amazing to know what you will be facing day to day. It’s incredible to know that you are helping people and you are making a difference. I love my team, I love what I do, and I could not be happier in that aspect. I was even awarded Team Member of the month, which meant the world to me.

This has truly been a blessing in disguise.  As a dear friend put it...truly, my being fired was really just my liberation.

I have also been surrounded by people who are so supportive. I have even had multiple people reach out to me over social media and show me support. Of this, I am so appreciative and so thankful.

I am incredibly blessed and thankful for the new opportunities given to me. God is good!

P.S. I’m stocking up on my tie dye ;)