Just Another Day in Chocolate City

"Just my thoughts man - right or wrong, Just what I was feeling at the time" Courtesy Jay-Z, The Ruler's Back

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Location: Washington, D.C., United States

Thoughts of a married, 30-something woman, living in Washington, D.C. (yes, in the actual city *lol*)

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Tagged by Fresh!

Hey ya’ll! I’ve been tagged by one of the wittiest bloggers I “know”, Fresh. Typically, I’m busy during the work week, but Fresh is one of 4 blogs that I read every day, no matter what else is going on.

Anyways, he tagged me and now I’ve gotta spill my guts and tell ya’ll the top 5 things that I obsess about or that I am obsessed with. This was hard, but here it goes:

  • Tweezing It’s kooky, but it’s me. As cute as ya girl is, there are a few pesky chin hairs that don’t understand that they have been served with restraining orders. They won’t stay away! I own 7 sets of tweezers. I keep them in my desk, my pocket book, my nap sack, my glove box, my husbands glove box, the bathroom and the bedroom. Don't let me get to a red light and “feel” a hair, I’ll bust out my alcohol wipes, pull out the lighted mirror and go to town with them tweezers. It’s sick, but I can’t stop. I hate those damn hairs.

  • Reading - I’m a read-a-holic. It's a combination of the only child in me and the writer in me. But, I hate, hate, HATE wasting my time on bad books. There’s nothing like ‘em. I think to myself, “Who in the hell left the gate open? How did this fool get a book deal?” Seriously though, I underestimated the difficulty until I started writing my own book. But, I’m realistic and some days I write nonsense that should never see the light of day. I know, I know, it’s all about the dollar. If you can market the trash and people will buy it, so called “authors” will keep writing it. Well, they can write all they want. I have the right not to read it. My favorite authors are Dianne McKinney-Whetstone, Pearl Cleage, Bernice McFadden and Penny Micklebury. I'd spend my last $27 to buy the latest release from any of those 4 sistas.

  • Music - Ah, what can I say? I love it, breathe it, need it! I'm convinced that Moms had the headphones on her belly while I was chilling in the womb. I’ll put on a cd, satellite radio or mp3s on the computer before I’ll put the tv on. I’m 30, but I’ve got a hellafied old school soul. Gimme Donny, Stevie, Marvin, Donna, Sam, Jackie, Diana, Otis and I’ll play it to death. Whew! Check Donny out! He coulda had ya girl if we'd been alive at the same time. :) Old school and disco are my favs. No disco bashing! *lol*

  • Great Conversation – I’m not biting Fresh, but great minds think alike. There is nothing like connecting with someone for good convo. A great exchange amongst intelligent people gets my blood flowing. I talked about this a while back and the seeming inability of most people to have a dialogue with different points of view. I love it and I look forward to it. We don't have to agree, but you need to be able to form a sentence, articulate a point and actually digest what I am saying. It takes but a few seconds to realize that you’ve got nothing to say. I’ve perfected my, “You are the biggest idiot” expression to make the idiot in question think that I’m totally into their babbling.

  • Innovative Food and Great Restaurants – I love great food. Nothing boring or flavorless for me. Being in the meeting and events industry has allowed me the opportunity to expand my flavor palate to levels I never thought. My parents were middle class and they raised yours truly with “class” and manners, but we weren’t eating any artichokes, sun dried tomatoes, shaved truffle oil, pistachio crusted halibut or rosemary aioli in my corner of Hempstead, NY in the 80’s. It just wasn’t happening. Now, after 9 years in the industry, I crave the interesting mix of flavors. Plus, my Moms just finished culinary school and she's always experimenting with something. I'm a willing taste tester, as long as it's not liver! My favorite local DC/MD restaurants of the moment are:


http://www.jacksbistro.net/ Ya'll, they serve a divine appetizer of Macaroni and Cheese with Chocolate!! Man, does it get any better?

http://www.acadianarestaurant.com/
http://www.zaytinya.com/
http://www.cafeasia.com/

And there you have it. All about the kid. Since Fresh was so sweet to tag me, I’m gonna have to tag Tndhrt and Ms. Angie.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Somebody lead me to FedEx!

All this nonsense over a box. A package. A simple mail transaction from one person to another, from Ohio to DC. Aggravation, irritation and frustration, all layered into a ridiculous 2 hours spent at my local Post Office.

This all started last Christmas. Hubby bought me a new radio that could play MP3 cds and is compatible with Sirius satellite radio. As soon as I opened it, I loved it.

About 2 weeks after having it installed, I lost the remote control to the unit. Ugh! I know you’re thinking, no big deal girl, just hit the buttons on the radio face. Well, I would if it had all the same buttons as the remote. But some brainiac decided that they needed to make a remote the size of my thumb and put two very important buttons on it: Mute (ATT) and Source. I've been stuck in MP3 mode for months. No FM radio, no satellite, just MP3's. But, ya girl is a bit on the lazy side sometimes, so I suffered without the remote for a few months until finally two weeks ago, I talked to my pusher man, Ebay, and bought another remote for $11.

And here begins the foolishness. The shipper informed me that the package was being sent
United States Postal Service Priority Mail and that I should have it on April 20. I checked the mail on April 20 – no package. I emailed the seller, who sent me a tracking #. When I checked the package online, it indicated that the package was at my local Post Office. OH NO!! Instantly, I felt sick to my stomach, my head began to throb and a hot flush crept up my neck. Not my local Post Office at the intersection of Benning Road and Minnesota Avenue. Not the 10th rung of hell on earth. I couldn't understand it – the package was small enough to fit in the mailbox. Why oh why was I being sent to the gas chamber?

A little info on my neighborhood: I live in DC, in a neighborhood that is starting to become gentrified, but it’s another 5-6 years coming. So, there are still abandoned buildings and drug dealers, mixed in with 400K homes and brand new condos. Get it?


So, I woke up early on 4/21 and headed down to the Post Office. This experience of picking up a package at the Benning Road Post Office may as well be a game of Roulette, or better yet, a game of Craps. As usual, the line is 20 people long and there is one person working. Freeze! Rewind that back TDJ. Did you say one person working, on a Saturday morning, at the Post Office? Yep, one person. And of all the reps it could be, you guessed it, the one with the McShittiest attitude. And ya’ll, I was just a little bit dead wrong. Why? Because I had a copy of my email from the seller, a printout from the Postal Service website saying that the package was there, but no pink package slip from my Postman. I know, I know. I brought fuel to the fire, but I didn’t have a choice folks. My lazy ass carrier has an aversion to leaving package slips.


I listened to my hubby’s Ipod and let the time pass, as patiently as possible. I’ve got no choice but to wait. The P.O. is only open from 9-5pm on the weekdays, so that’s not an option. They only hold packages for 7 days, so if it arrived on 4/20, they would send that sucker back before I could get there again, on 4/28. Damn! I glanced at my watch and realized that I have been in line for over an hour. I tried my hardest to be on my best behavior.

Folks all around me were flipping out and showing their asses. One woman, bless her heart, lives on Southern Avenue in a new home and her mailbox has been stolen 3 times. Now get this – the carrier won’t leave the mail under the mat (as the customer has requested) and the Post Office claims they don’t have it. Huh? Her frustration bubbled over when she screamed, “Where the f*ck is my mail?” Not a fan of using foul language with customer service folks that don’t deserve it, but she deserved it. As Chris Rock says, "I'm not saying she was right, but I can understand."

Ooh!! It was finally my turn. It had been 1 hour and 37 minutes. I approached the window, no, let me rephrase, bulletproof, frosted ghetto glass. WTH? Is this the Post Office or the carryout? Our convo went like this:

Me: Yes ma’am, I’m here to pick up a package.
Her: You got a slip?
Me: No ma’am, there was no slip in my box but –
Her: Ain’t no slip, ain’t no package. Next!

My eyes bucked, my neck rolled, my left hand flew to my fluffy hip and my right hand halted the old gentleman who was anxious to move up in line.

Me: I’m not done yet. I have a printout from your website that says the package is here. There was no slip, but here is the tracking number and my address. Could you please try to look for it?
Her: Look, I’m the only one here, so I can’t be going on no wild goose chases for some package that may or may not –
Me: Look yourself lady. I realize that you’re the only one here because I’ve been standing in this damn line for almost 2 hours. I’m next and I want my package. I’m not moving until I get it.

I’d thrown down the gauntlet. So, I crossed my arms and I could hear the lyrics to Akon's song, “Locked Up” floating through my head. “I’m locked up, they won’t let me out, they won’t let me out.” This lady rolled her eyes so hard, I thought she was going to get ocular whiplash. We stood there, staring each other down through the triple thick glass for about a minute before she gave in and backed down. She stomped away from the counter and disappeared behind a partition to look for my package.

The folks in line behind me were cheering and laughing at the exchange, but I wasn’t yet removed enough from it to laugh, ya know? Ole girl took her sweet time and wasted 14 minutes of mine before she brought my package up. She placed it into ghetto plastic contraption #2 – the pressurized case. She opens the Lucite box from her side and slides your package in. But don’t touch your door, because it won’t open until her door is completely closed. Good thing too, because the thought of pulling her skinny tail through that box was quite appealing. But, I happen to know that crimes committed in federal buildings get you federal time and I don't look good in khaki.

So, what did I learn from my experience? You can't get back wasted time. My neighborhood is up and coming, but it’s not coming up as fast as I’d like it to. People need to really evaluate if they are cut out to serve the public. My experience tells me that a large majority of workers are NOT!

I’ve since changed my address with Paypal and with my credit union, so now all packages will come to my job. I thought about a P.O. Box, but I’ve have to deal with the same Post Office to set it up and at some point during the life of the box. And frankly, I’ve had enough of that place. So unless I find out that I've won the 50 million dollar Powerball and the only place to collect my money is at Benning and Minnesota, I won't be back.

Monday, May 07, 2007

2 Wins in a Row



Go DC Divas!! This past Saturday, the Divas faced a tough opponent in the NY Sharks. But, after being down 14-0, they rallied to win the game, 20-14. I told ya'll 'dem girls was BAD!