Just Another Day in Chocolate City

A Change of Scenery

2009-04-16T10:11:00.000-05:00

I'm out folks! Follow me here:

http://mrstdj.wordpress.com/

Young, Stupid and Greedy AKA “Locked Up Abroad”

2009-03-30T15:27:00.003-05:00

“I was an honors student who had never been in any trouble”. So far, after watching over a dozen episodes of the show, “Locked Up Abroad” on the National Geographic Channel, that’s my favorite line.

In case you’re never seen the show, let me break it down for you. There are two different types of stories covered – young, stupid, greedy American’s who get caught in foreign countries doing illegal mess; and innocent, naive aka stupid people (mostly American’s) who get caught up in the midst of civil unrest, crime and cases of mistaken identity. I tend to watch the young, stupid and greedy episodes because they’re funnier. If you get a chance, check it out for the sheer comedy. The new season of stupidity begins this Wednesday night at 10pm EST.

The episodes that I watch feature young, stupid and greedy American’s (typically white folks – hmmm…..) that are convinced, lured and/or romanced into traveling to foreign countries with the intention of smuggling drugs back to the U.S. Huh? Come again. Unh huh, innocent, pure white bread folks that take trips to 2nd and 3rd world countries and attempt to smuggle drugs out of said country. We’re not talking about Paris, London, Prague, or Milan. No, no, no, drug smuggling is too difficult in countries like that. These idiots are going to places like Cuzco (that’s in Peru in case you didn’t know – even this geography nerd had to look that one up), Bangladesh, Ecuador, Pakistan, the Philippines and the list goes on and on.

Folks are agreeing to an all expense paid “vacation” to these places for 5-14 days, receiving spending money and the promise of a payday between 5K-25K when they return to the States. While in country, they are either told to hang out and enjoy themselves; or stay sequestered in their hotel room waiting for "the call". There are SO many things wrong with this scenario that I can't believe their are enough idiots to have a tv series.

Drug smuggling? Seriously? Most of these people are vulnerable and idiotic college students, so you can imagine that the lure of 25 grand is enough to make them think that going to a foreign country to smuggle drugs is a brilliant idea. They’ve got a better chance of safely selling drugs in their own neighborhoods or college campuses. Nope, why start small? Let’s just jump right into international smuggling. Rrriiiggghhhttt!

25 Grand? Or even worse, the ones that agree to 5 Grand. For real? That’s enough to risk going to prison or worse? Dude, prisons in the U.S. are bad enough. Trust me, I've visited a few. Are you really interested in a long term stay at 3rd world prison? Can you imagine the conditions of the cells, the bathroom facilities and the unspeakable ghoulash? Yick. I’ll pass.

Let’s discuss “foreign justice”. The phrase itself is an oxymoron. The laws in some countries are so archaic that you might get arrested for making eye contact with a chicken. So, in a place where even the most mundane activity could potentially be illegal, these silly rabbits decide to jump all the way up the criminal code and attempt to smuggle drugs out? Brilliant. But, like all idiots, these folks think that their plan is that much better than the rest. Rrriiiggghhhttt!

And lest we forget that we’re speaking of countries where most of the population doesn’t speak English. Unh huh, another remarkably intelligent facet of the plan. If something happens, would you even understand what is happening around you? Are you allowed to have a lawyer in this country? If you get one, can you communicate with each other? Rrriiiggghhhttt!

An episode that I saw over the weekend featured a chick named Lia McCord from Texas. Lia was 18 years old, estranged from family, living with friends, enticed by 20K to smuggle heroin from Bangladesh to Switzerland aka STUPID!

Can you guess how the story ends? She spends 2 weeks in Bangladesh before her contact gives her the drugs. She changes her mind but it’s too late and she’s “scared of what he’ll do to me”. Remember the brilliant plan? Not so brilliant because during a strip search at the airport, the authorities discover the 7 lbs of heroin that she is trying to conceal using 2 girdles and electrical tape. SHOCKING!

Of course at this point, she’s scared silly. *lol* Ya think? Yes chicky, now is a good time to get scared.

Lia confesses and gives up her contact. She’s held to await trail, the U.S. Embassy says there’s nothing they can do to help. Eight months later, she’s convicted of possessing narcotics and smuggling and sentenced to LIFE IN PRISON? Say that again? Yep, ya heard me, LIFE IN PRISON. The judge could have given her the death penalty, but since she didn’t seem like a “habitual smuggler”, he let her off. Her family and friends back home start writing and calling their congressional reps. Finally, Congressman Bill Richardson intervenes on her behalf and after serving 4.5 years, she is released.

Oh, and she never got her 20 grand. Dumb ass!

I Love Blogging!!

2009-03-26T18:18:00.003-05:00

Bet’cha can’t tell by all the recent posts, huh? *lol* Seriously, hey blogland! How have ya’ll been? I’ve been excellent. So much going on and so little time to write about it. I’ve got about 20 half written entries that I hope to complete in the near future. In the meantime, here are a few things that are on my mind:

Motherhood is a beautiful, exciting, exhausting experience. The little guy and I are 10 weeks in to the “experiment”. So far, he’s surviving the instincts of a bumbling first time mom. Thank God for my mother, the wisest person I’ve ever known.

My maternity leave ends in one week and I am dreading returning to work.

There clearly needs to be a support group for Facebook addiction. Or more specifically, Mafia Wars addiction. As Monnie has said, “I can’t leave the house without moving all my money to the bank and using all my energy.” Ri-damn-diculous! But, the thrill isn’t as great anymore now that I’m level 50, have about 300 million in the bank and it takes FOREVER to refill energy.

My current favorite tv shows are “Fringe” on Fox, “Eastbound and Down” on HBO, “Cash Cab” on Discovery and “Deserving Design” on HGTV. “Criminal Minds” on CBS

I get the idea that the current administration wanted to open up The White House Easter Egg Roll to more people outside the DC area, but the online ticket distribution system is NOT WORKING OUT. I’ve been trying all day on behalf of my hubby’s goddaughter. Boo hiss!

I’ve been writing so much over the last 3 months and I’m very, very close to having the first draft of my novel complete. YEAH ME! I am nervous about taking the next step.

I refuse to listen to the radio anymore. I have no interest in any of the syndicated talk shows and the music that the local djs play is horrible. My radio stays on Sirius satellite radio or a CD.

Bolthouse Farms has a drink called Perfectly Protein that gets my day started in the absolute right way. It comes in three flavors - Vanilla Chai Tea, Mocha Cappuccino and my favorite, Hazelnut Latte. In the words of Rachel Ray, they are "Yumm-O"!

My cell phone is a piece of crap, but I’m not interested in upgrading as long as I can still make calls and send text messages.

Two of my brilliant nieces have been accepted to their first choice colleges – Howard University and University of New Haven. I’m so proud of them both.

My grandmother has been providing me with extremely blog worthy material

I'm challenging myself to blog at least once every two weeks. Hmm, wonder how that will turn out.

When Did We Become Cool Like That?

2008-09-05T09:21:00.004-05:00

Was it moment that the word made it’s way through the building and you heard that I was pregnant?

Was it the first time you saw me in the hallway and noticed my “baby bump”?

Was it when you got the email from my assistant about my “surprise” office shower?
Or was it simply the moment that you acknowledged our united “womanhood”?

No matter the second that the notion struck you, I’m here to tell you that WE’RE NOT COOL LIKE THAT. Make note, I’m not referring to family, friends or even those in the cyber world who I call buddies. I’m specifically referring to co-workers. Not office friends, buddies or even lunch pals. Rather the co-workers that simply work in the same facility, building or department. The ones who pronounce my first name wrong after working with me for over 4 years. The ones that normally don’t speak and avoid eye contact. You know the ones?

Pregnancy is a condition that unfortunately, becomes visibly obvious to anyone of average intelligence at some point during the months preceding the little one’s arrival.
However, visible evidence aside, it is still a personal decision and I strongly feel that the details are not public information unless you decide to share. Is TDJ just a sourpuss? I think not. I simply think that some of questions I’ve been asked over the last week border on noisy and intrusive, while the rest fall the hell into the “damn, I can’t believe you asked me that” zone.

Examples include:
Wow, that weight fell off and hubby couldn’t keep his hands to himself huh?
But you lost so much weight! Are you going to be able to get it back off after the baby?
Are you planning a natural childbirth or a c-section?
Are you going to breast feed? I really think you should.
You’re 32, have you had the baby tested for Down’s syndrome and stuff?
Were you guys trying or was this a slip-up?

What the hell is wrong with people? When did it become ok to simply say anything to anyone? Simple questions like, is this your first or do you know what you’re having don’t irritate me. That’s just curiosity and although I wouldn’t ask a virtual stranger, I understand those that do. But, the questions that I’ve been getting? Inappropriate in my book. So you know what, my cranky ass have developed a list of equally inappropriate responses. Here they go:

Wow, that weight fell off and hubby couldn’t keep his hands to himself huh?
How do you know it’s my husband’s baby?
Were you guys trying or was this a slip-up?
Damn those dollar store condoms!
But you lost so much weight! Are you going to be able to get it back off after the baby?
I hope so, if not I’m not opposed to trying crack-cocaine.
Are you planning a natural childbirth or a c-section?
Not sure, but I’ll call you from Labor and Delivery for your opinion.
Are you going to breast feed? I really think you should.
I think you shouldn’t ask such nosey questions.
You’re 32, have you had the baby tested for Down’s syndrome and stuff?
Why - do you have a cure?

Rude is rude no matter how you frame it. I get the fact that most people, especially women, like babies. I get the fact that most people are excited with the possibility of a baby being anywhere in the vicinity. I get it! But, does that green light the rudeness?

Perhaps I’m extra sensitive during my 2nd trimester, but I think not. I am extra cranky, so I pity the co-worker that approaches me on a real bad day. They’re gonna catch hell!

Never Without My Wedding Rings

2008-08-26T14:05:00.005-05:00

Hey Blog World! What's the haps in your neck of the woods? All is well around these parts. So much on my mind and no clear direction, so I'll drop a few short posts with some things that I've been thinking.

In July 2007, I underwent gastric bypass surgery and since that time I have lost over 150 pounds. I am happy with my decision to undergo surgery and my life has been better in the last year than I could ever have imagined. That’s not the point of this post though. *lol* So, since I lost so much weight, my engagement and wedding rings are much too big now. However, every time that I've take them in to get sized, my fingers are at least 1/4 size smaller than they were the last time. The jeweler asked how much weight I’d be losing and if it was more than 50 pounds, then I should wait to get then cut down then.

So, since about February of this year, I’ve been wearing both rings on my necklace. Not my preferred location, but I felt that this was better than nothing. Well, now that I’m pregnant (and showing), I feel a very strong need to wear them on my hand. This is not a rant or judgment against people who choose to have children out of wedlock. Everyone makes a choice for their life, but I chose to wait until I was married to have a child. I’m married and pregnant, and I’d like the world to see both. I was raised by strong parents who showed me through example that within the bounds of a healthy marraige, raising children together could be a fantastic experience. My husband and I are approaching our 4th wedding anniversary in September and I’m excited about it.

My grandmother made a statement a few weeks after learning that I was having a child. She said to me, "I love all my great grands, Lord knows I do. But, there is something really special about the child that you and Mr. TDJ are having cause ya'll done it the right way. You got married, ya'll bought a house and now you're having a baby. Yes Lord, there is certainly something special about that."

Her words made me stop, think and agree with her. So, sure, you can call me conservative, traditional, self-righteous or any other adjective that you feel applies. I’ll just call myself, Mrs. TDJ, the married, smiling, pregnant woman.

Pork Chops and Gravy Coming in Janaury 2009

2008-06-20T13:43:00.002-05:00

Hey blogworld! What it be like folks? All is well here and I hope the same is true for all of you. I’ll be in the house all weekend this weekend, so I’m hoping to catch up on all of your blogs. Let me share a brief conversation that my husband and I had with my grandmother this past weekend.

Hubby: Hey Grandma! How are you?
LuLu: Hey baby. I'm just fine. How ya feeling?
Hubby: I’m good. Guess what? We’ve got some news.
LuLu: Something new? What?
Hubby: We’re having a baby!
LuLu: Ya’ll are making gravy?
Hubby: No, Grandma, a baby.
LuLu: What kind of gravy?
Hubby: No, Grandma, listen. TDJ is pregnant and we’re having a baby.
LuLu: Pork chops and gravy? I don’t make so much no more.

A frustrated TDJ grabs the phone from hubby.

TDJ: LuLu, listen.
LuLu: I’m listening to Mr. TDJ talk about ya’lls dinner.
TDJ: LuLu, no really, really listen and pay attention.
LuLu: **sighing** Ok, go ‘head.
TDJ: I’m pregnant and we are having a baby.
LuLu: A baby? Oh my word. So why is Mr. TDJ wasting time talking about gravy?

That woman keeps me laughing. She’s never trying to be funny, but I think that’s why I get such a kick out of her comedy. And of course, my husband's new nickname for our little blessing is "Pork Chop".

Comedy Hour with LuLu The Great

2008-05-02T08:23:00.005-05:00

Hey ya’ll! If you’re a regular reader (do I still have any after my long hiatus? *lol*), you’ve heard me talk about my grandmother, who I call LuLu. She and are great friends, and she is one of the funniest people I know. And of course, she’s not even trying to be funny. A few of our other conversations can be found here and here. I called her last night to tell her that I would be coming to New York next weekend. My wonderful god-daughter will be graduating from Seton Hall University on May 12th, so I figured I would spend the weekend in NY with the fam, attend graduation on Monday and come on back home after the party. After doing some quick calculations on gas, tolls and the wear & tear on my trusty set of wheels, I decided to take the bus. Attention East Coaster’s, check out the Bolt Bus. It’s a new service launched by Greyhound to compete with the cheap, quick (and a touch dangerous!) Chinese busses that were killing the transport game between NY and DC. So, your girl booked a roundtrip ticket from DC to NYC for $15.50. Add that to the $12.50 roundtrip train fare between Penn Station and Long Island and my whole trip will only cost me $28.00. YES!!

Anyways, I called my grandmother to tell her that I was coming and here’s how our conversation went:

Me: Hey LuLu!
LuLu: Hey baby! Ain’t your goddaughter graduating from college soon, up here in New Jersey? You coming to see me?
Me: I sure am. Next weekend.
LuLu: This weekend?
Me: No, Grandma. Next weekend.
LuLu: Oh, for Mother’s Day. How nice. You driving by yourself?
Me: I was, but I decided to take the bus.

**SILENCE**

Me: Grandma?
LuLu: I’m here, I was just thinking about them buses. You be careful. Take and pin your money in your bra so them pickpockets won’t get you.
Me: Uh, ok, I’ll be sure to do that.
LuLu: And don’t be wearing no cute clothes. You know them pedophiles hang out at the bus stations looking for women to mess with.
Me: Pedophiles? LuLu, I’m 31, so I’m pretty sure I don’t have to worry about pedophiles.
LuLu: What did I just tell you? I watch Dateline girl and they be catching them predatoring women everywhere! There are pedophiles hiding everywhere and you better watch out of that there bus.
Me: Um, yes ma’am, I heard you and I'll be careful.

LuLu: You better. I don't want to have to kill me one of those nasty men for hurting my baby.

Me: Yes ma'am.

So, next weekend, I’ll be the only 31 year old woman, with her money pinned inside her bra, wearing the homeliest, most unflattering outfit she could find. I can’t no listen to LuLu’s law!

Trying to Get Regular

2008-04-18T08:22:00.002-05:00

Hey ya'll! I'm trying to get back to posting regular. *lol* Hopefully, I'll get it together one of these days. I got this email from my mom, who never forwards anything, and thought that it was too funny! We both have the same wicked sense of humor. Have a great weekend!

Ever wondered what happens when Hallmark writers are having a bad day?

(My favorite!!)
My tire was thumping.
I thought it was flat
When I looked at the tire...
I noticed your cat.
Sorry!

We have been friends for a very long time...
let's say we stop?

Looking back over the years that we've been together, I can't help but wonder...
"What the hell was I thinking?"

I must admit, you brought Religion into my life.
I never believed in Hell until I met you.

As the days go by, I think of how lucky I am...
That you're not here to ruin it for me.

Heard your wife left you,
How upset you must be.
But don't fret about it...
She moved in with me.

Congratulations on your wedding day!
Too bad no one likes your husband.

How could two people as beautiful as you
Have such an ugly baby?

Congratulations on your promotion.
Before you go...
Would you like to take this knife out of my back?
You'll probably need it again.

When we were together, you always said you'd die for me.
Now that we've broken up, I think it's time you kept your promise.

I'm so miserable without you it's almost like you're here.

So your daughter's a hooker, and it spoiled your day.
Look at the bright side, it's really good pay.

I Love Other People's Kids!

2008-03-11T14:25:00.009-05:00

HELLO BLOGLAND!!!

I’ve truly missed ya’ll!

This thing called life has been a bit rocky for me over the last few months, and as much as I love blogging, I couldn’t make the time to write. And, I haven’t read any of my fellow bloggers thoughts in just as many months. I’ll be slowly catching up and I hope to never disappear for so long again!

So many thoughts to share, but I’ll just tell you a quick story about my 5 year old cousin Egypt. Egypt is 5, going on 25. My mom has one sister, Sherry, and Egypt is Sherry’s granddaughter. My mom is one of Egypt’s godmother’s and she spends weeks at a time here in Maryland.

Egypt had been at my mom’s house since February 16 and she had been giving me the blues every day for not coming to visit her. She was returning to NY on 24. I work in Baltimore, about 15 minutes from my mother’s house. And, Egypt knows that if I’m at work, that means I am close. So, on Tuesday, she called me at work. This was our conversation:

Me: Good afternoon, This is TDJ.
Egypt: TDJ, when are you coming over?
Me: Hi Egypt. I’ll be over tomorrow after work.
Egypt: Ok, are we going to play Barbie and hula hoops?
Me: *laughing* Sure Egypt. We can play whatever you want.
Egypt: Ok, I gotta go. Kim Possible is on.
Me: Bye dear. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Alright, so after a long work day on Wednesday, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of driving across town to see them, then heading an hour home to P.G. County. So, I didn’t go. I called from the car, but got the voicemail. On Thursday, I called to say that I would just come over Friday after work. Egypt repeated the word “tomorrow” 4 times and made me promise.

Well, we had a little ice storm here in the DC region overnight and I didn’t go to work Friday. I thought maybe that if the weather cleared, I’d still take a ride to Baltimore, but the lazy bones kicked in and I stayed in my pjs all day watching recorded shows on my DVR box.

At 6:15pm, my home phone rings. I see my mother’s number on the caller i.d. and grab the phone expecting to hear her voice. Not so lucky.

Me: Hello?
Egypt: TDJ, why aren’t you here?
Me: Hey Egypt, I’m sorry. There was ice and snow today, so I didn’t go anywhere.
Egypt: But, you promised.
Me: I know. I’m sorry. I’ll come tomorrow.
Egypt! Ugh! But tomorrow is today!
Me: Huh?
Egpyt: Yesterday, you told me that you would tomorrow. So, tomorrow is today and you’re not here
Me: *giggling to myself* Ok, no matter what, I’ll come tomorrow.
Egypt: Ok, you better. And bring some money.
Me: Money? Money for what?
Egypt: Auntie bought me a lemonade stand and I sell lemonade.
Me: Uh, ok, how much money? Ten cents. (thinking to myself that I’d her a quarter for a sample of fake lemonade)
Egypt: **laughing** No way! One dollar bill
Me: For fake lemonade?
Egypt: Well, it’s fake lemonade, but I only take real dollars.

Folks, I was speechless for a few seconds and then I cracked up laughing. Kids, gotta love ‘em. See ya'll soon!

Big Ole 'Fraidy Cat!!

2007-10-11T15:37:00.000-05:00

Hey blog fam! What’s happening? Bought a new house, had and recovered from major surgery and now, all is well in my world. I missed blogging so much! I have to get to everyone's site and check up on ya'll!

Love my house and neighborhood, but the posse of stray cats in my neighborhood is going to make me buy a BB gun. Just joking, but I have called Animal Control. Did I ever tell ya’ll how terrified I am of cats? In general, pets really aren’t my thing. Growing up, we had the occasional, temporary pet (a hamster, a bird, carnival fish and a couple of dogs), but nothing that I ever got emotionally attached too. Me human, you animal. I’m not knocking those that love their pets to death (Hey Creole!!), but it’s just not me.

I’ve been scarred of cats for as long as I can remember. There is just something about them. The way they sneak around and move without making a sound - Yick! The way their eyes seem to narrow into little slits and look right through you - Yuck! And then, the thing I hate the most is when they arch their backs and point their tails straight up in the air - ARGH!

So, obviously, living in an urban/suburban environment is a big, big challenge for yours truly. People think that it’s “sweet” and “caring” to feed strays and people choose not to spray and neuter their pets, so we’ve got millions of unwanted aka stray cats running around. NOT COOL! If you want kittens, go for it. If you don’t, then control ya animal cause if you don't they are going to find a friend and do what comes naturally. Everybody need a little love, even the damn cats. Ok, ok, off my soapbox and back to the story.

Let me tell ya’ll about the childhood incident that thoroughly cemented my fear and guaranteed that my future offspring would never be the happy owners of a kitten. Sorry kids, tears won’t help cause Mommy is terrified. Go and play with your goldfish.

I was eight years old and I had a small aversion of cats. I didn’t want one and I would flinch when I walked near one on the street. But all in all, they just kinda scared me. I would classify it as an intense dislike, bordering on fear. Until that day. That day changed everything.

My mother was working with houseplants on our front porch and she sent me into the garage to get a small clay pot for her. I walked around the side of the house and approached the open garage. It was midday, but it was overcast and not very bright out, so the garage was a bit on the dim side. I stepped inside the garage and reached into the right corner for the light switch. But instead, my hand connected with the identical garage door switch and the door began to close. Duh, flip the switch back up and it will reverse direction. Yeah, yeah, I know that now, but at the time, I guess I thought it had to close completely before I could open it again.

Now, remember, I said that it was kinda dim inside the garage. And the garage door, looked like this, so not much light was getting in. Well, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I was turning to face the light switches, a flash of light caught my eye in the corner. And then that flash of light moved.

AAAAHHHHHH!!!! I was trapped in the garage with a cat! A panther! A tiger! A LION!!!! Holy hell, Batman! What to do, what to do, I thought frantically. Rational thought – open the door and leave the garage. Irrational thought – scream bloody murder, have an asthma attack and faint on the floor inside the garage. Let’s go with option B.

So, when I regained consciousness, the first thing that I felt was a pain in the back of my head. Ouch, I thought. My eyes were closed and I just wanted to lay there. My mom had to start missing me soon, although I was the type to get easily distracted from the task at hand and take a few extra minutes to complete the assignment. Anyway, I was hoping that she had heard my scream and would be opening the garage door with her remote within seconds. When the cavalry didn’t come, I slowly opened my eyes. I expected to see the ceiling of the garage, but instead, I was staring into a set of eyes. As I tried to register what was in my line of sight, the beast extended his tongue and licked my cheek like it was a double serving of fresh tuna. I was so scared that I was unable to even scream. I reacted on pure survival instincts, by swinging my left arm and knocking the cat across the room. He landed in a pile of garden tools with a “Meeeoowww, aaaaarrrrrrrwwwwnnnnnn”. I jumped up, began beating on the door to the garage like an insane person trapped in a sanitarium and screamed in long, extended wails like that of an approaching emergency vehicle.

The seconds felt like hours until the garage door began to rise. As soon as I could see the ground outside, I flattened myself into a pancake and slid beneath the rising door. Both of my parents stood there with worried expressions on their faces. I burst into tears and jumped into my father’s arms. My mother peeked inside the garage, realized the source of my distress and closed the door again. My father carried me inside and my mother made me a bowl of ice cream.
From that day forward, I have avoided cats. I am terrified beyond measure. People who've heard this story say, "Oh the cat was worried and just trying to wake you by liking you." Bullshit, I say, that cougar wanted to eat me! I can’t watch commercials on television that feature cats. I am unable to walk down the pet food aisle in the grocery store. I will not visit a home where a cat lives; none of that, "I'll lock it in the bathroom/basement/etc". Those little tigers are smart and I know they can escape when necessary. If I do encounter a cat in my daily travels, I become paralyzed with fear and usually end up injuring the person closest to me with nail marks in their arms and a semi-busted eardrum from my screams. Yes, I know how irrational fear is, but we’ve all got ‘em. Except mine lives on four legs, owns sharp teeth and could beat me in a foot race. What are you afraid of? I won't laugh, I promise!!

Georgia On My Mind

2007-08-03T13:00:00.000-05:00

What’s up blogland? How the hell have ya’ll been? Sorry that I’ve been gone for so long, but a little life got in the way and blogging was the last thing on my mind. But, a childhhod story came to mind and I just had to tell ya'll about it.

Yesterday I received a wedding invitation to a cousin’s wedding for this November and I laughed so hard when I opened it that my husband thought I had gone bonkers. Before receiving that wedding invitation, she and I had not spoken nor had any contact since we were 10 years old. Lemme tell ya why.

I was born and raised in NYC, but my family is from the south. Mom’s fam is from Aiken, SC and dad’s fam is from Augusta, GA. Aiken and Augusta are spitting distance from each other, so every summer my parents and I drove “down south”. We stopped in Aiken for 4 days, then continued on to Augusta to spend a week there. After that, my parents would head back to NY and I’d stay for another 3 weeks. Ya know, getting to know the kinfolk. The cousin in question, let’s call her Too Fly, and I are the same age. We are both spoiled only children and when together, we were either best friends or sworn enemies. The summer of 1986, we turned 10 and we were sworn enemies. Our feud had begun a few days after I arrived and I can’t remember the beginning. I can’t recall why it started, but the ending is quite vivid.

It was 2 weeks into my 3 week stay and the heat in Augusta was unbearable. When I was in town, Too Fly and I stayed with her grandparents (my Great Uncle and Aunt). By the time my Great Auntie cooked our breakfast and put us out the house for the day, it was already 100 degrees and humid as hell. We ran to the backyard to play. My Great Uncle was a construction worker and his specialty was laying bricks. So, behind the house was always a huge pile of bricks. This particular morning, I suggested that we build a house and Too Fly agreed. She offered to work on the front and I agreed to work on the back.

For hours in the hot sun, we were lifting, dragging and stacking bricks to make our version of a house. We took a break when my Auntie brought out sandwiches and fresh brewed iced tea. Working on the house together made our feud seem silly. As with most childhood fights, by the end of lunch, we were the best of friends. We continued working, chatting and making big plans for our house. We were going to use her Wonder Woman blanket in our shared bedroom. We planned to pick wild flowers from the field by the house to decorate. Big, big plans.

When we each finally yelled that we were finished, we were so elated that we hugged and spun around in a circle. Then she ran to the back to check out my work and I ran to the front to check out her work. As I rounded the corner, I couldn’t believe my eyes. You see, Too Fly was skinny, and ya girl TDJ was chubby. She was Kenny/”BUD” to my Peter (circa The Cosby Show). Ya’ll understand? Or she could play Ricky to my Doughboy (circa Boyz in the Hood). Let me tell ya’ll what she did. She made the front door teeny weeny small. I mean, so small that she was going to have to enter sideways, while holding her breath. So obviously, I wasn’t going to even come close to getting in that little house.

My little eyes began to tear and I called out to her and she came running.

Me: Too Fly, why’d you make the door so small? I can’t get in the house.
Too Fly: Oops! Sorry fatty. You can’t get in, but I can.

Then she skipped over to the doorway and slid inside, then back out. She repeated this about a million times while chanting, “I’M IN. I’M OUT. I’M IN. I’M OUT.”

Well folks, something inside me snapped. (Do ya’ll watch that show “Snapped” on the Oxygen channel? I love it. Check it out.) Growing up as a chubby child, I’d experienced my share of name calling from kids at school and neighborhood kids that I didn’t know well. But, never had a friend or family member made fun at my expense. When I say, I snapped ya’ll, I mean it. I blame it on the hot Georgia sun and the 5 pounds of sugar in that sweet tea. I sprinted over to the doorway of that little brick house and the next time Too Fly slid inside yelling, “I’M IN”, I pushed with both hands and all my strength. That little brick house toppled over and her skinny ass was at the bottom of the pile! Then I yelled, “NOW STAY IN!”

So, in hindsight, I realize that I could have killed the girl. But, it was purely in self defense, your honor! I was defending myself against an evil, bratty, skinny cousin. As Too Fly cried out in pain and shock, Auntie came shuffling out the house to see what the commotion was and I took off inside to call my personal angel. I grabbed the telephone and dialed the operator. When she picked up, I said, “Operator, I need to make a collect call to my grandmother.” Once my call was connected and my grandmother picked up the phone, the floodgates opened. “Grandma! I don’t like Too Fly, I don’t like Georgia and I want to come home. Please make my parents come get me or I’m just gonna die.”

Grandma Diva rules with an iron fist and nobody better mess with her oldest granddaughter. Ya’ll know my daddy showed up the next morning right? *lol* She called, he listened and then he hopped in the car and drove all night to be there when I woke up. I was already packed, because I knew that my Grandma would not let me down. My daddy and my Auntie talked a bit and then it was time to hit the road. Too Fly waved from the porch, as our car drove away. She looked like the walking wounded with a busted, fat lip, three band aids on her face, six on her arms and 4 on her legs. I waved back and giggled softly.

We never spoke again and I haven’t been back to Georgia since. Hubby and I might pack up and head to her wedding. I promise to leave the bricks at home.

Tagged by Fresh!

2007-05-24T16:00:00.000-05:00

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.

Somebody lead me to FedEx!

2007-05-09T16:10:00.000-05:00

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.

2 Wins in a Row

2007-05-07T09:55:00.000-05:00

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!

http://www.dcdivas.com/
http://www.iwflsports.com/

The Final Frontier

2007-04-30T17:45:00.000-05:00

I love sports! I’m an only child and at the age of 9, I got the crazy idea that if I was really, really into sports, my dad would never be saddened by the fact that I wasn't a boy. Sounds crazy now, but at 9 it made perfect sense. So, I jumped in with a childs' enthusiasm. I played softball, soccer and basketball with my dad. We watched football, basketball, boxing and tennis. I even convinced him to buy New York Giants season tickets that a neighbor was selling so that we could go to all the games together. Whoa.

By high school, my love had waned a little, but I played softball and still had my affair with football and boxing. I had dreams of playing football in college, but being a girl, I knew that it would never happen, so I just watched the NFL with envy for many, many years. And wouldn’t you know - I married a guy that could care less about sports? I’m not as into them as I once was, but I still follow the games and the stats. Imagine my surprise at learning that there was not one, not two, but three Professional Women’s Football Leagues. WTH? Is this a conspiracy? How come no one told me about these leagues? I watch enough ESPN and I surely watch the nightly news. So, upon hearing of these leagues and particularly, my local team, the D.C. Divas, I did a little research and decided to go to the first game of the 2007 season this past Saturday night.

I was looking forward to it because my research revealed that the Divas were the 2006 league champions in the National Women’s Football Association. After crushing the competition in that league, they decided to move to different league, the Independent Women’s Football League, in an attempt to get some real competition.

Ya’ll, the game was great and these ladies are BAD! “Not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning GOOD!” (And please tell me that somebody loves Run’s House on MTV as much as me?) These ladies are seriously doing the damn thing! Makes me want to lace up my pumas and start training with them girls! They spanked the New England Intensity, 70-0. **crickets** Yep, I said 70 to zero. ZERO. From the first play to the last play, the Divas pushed them other folk up and down the field with ease. The Divas are a dominant team and New England couldn't seem to get a thing going. *lol*

So, since this whole Women’s Football thing is apparently a secret, I wondered if it would get any new coverage. I neither read, saw or heard any mention of the game on the local news or in the Washington Post. And folks, I need to know why. This team has been around since 2001 and they’ve been killing the competition for years. These women are ethnically diverse, they range in age from 20-40 and they all have full time jobs in addition to training and playing with the team. They are our mothers, sisters, girlfriends and neighbors. They play at the Prince George’s Sports and Learning Complex, in the shadow of the Deadskins. Oops, I meant Redskins. Can a sista get some shine? Hmm, who do I need to talk to about this? Maybe the Diva’s need help in their marketing campaign. Or maybe they just need a grassroots effort of support. I emailed my favorite news team on NBC 4 about the lack of coverage and this is the email that I got back:

Subject: RE: No Coverage of the DC Divas?
Date: Sun, 29 Apr 2007 14:40:05 -0400
From:"Hellie, Dan (NBC Universal)"
To: "TDJ" *#*#*#@yahoo.com

Hi TDJ-

Saturday was a little packed with Redskins draft and Wizards playoff game. We
will try to make it to a Diva's game once things slow down a bit.

Thanks for watching Channel 4!
Dan

A little packed? Hmm, don’t know about ya’ll but I kinda took that as a slap in the face. When things slow down? So, we get 6 minutes of Redskins draft day coverage, 6 minutes of the LeBron show vs the poor Wizards and the Divas can’t get a stinking mention? And, as I said, you can walk from FedEx field to the Divas field, so why not cover draft day, then mosey on over cross the road for the 7pm game?

Hmm, is the mainstream not ready to see a woman making a tackle, throwing a pretty spiral or running a punt back for a touchdown? Do I smell sexism? Maybe it all comes down to money and support. Tennis was the first hurdle. Thank God Billie Jean King broke down the door in 1973. Now, the NBA supports and acknowledges the WNBA, as does the PGA to the LPGA. Women’s soccer made a run, but they collapsed under the financial pressure. Obviously 3 leagues with varying rules, fees and talent levels is bit much to keep up with, but why won’t the NFL sit down with these folks and come up with something? It seems that only the Arizona Cardinals, Miami Dolphins, and Tampa Bay Buccaneers have reached out a helping hand to the female teams in their respective cities. Huh? 3? Counting all three leagues, there are over 70 teams. So, kudos to the Cards, Dolphins and Bucs, but what about the league itself acknowledging these athletes and lending support? Apparently not, according to this article - Hello, NFL, Commissioner Goodell, is anyone listening?

As my own personal show of support, I bought “season” tickets to the Divas games. Their season is a bit on the short side and there are only 4 home games, but I’ll be there. I’m not suiting up, but I wish I was. I may just have to volunteer to do some marketing or event planning for these ladies. Check out the sites below. There’s probably at least one team in your local area. Anybody local in DC/MD/VA that wants to join me at a game, holla at cha girl!
Links:

http://www.dcdivas.com/

http://www.iwflsports.com/

http://www.baltimoreburnfootball.com/
http://www.womensfootballcentral.com/
http://www.womensprofootball.com/

A Saw By Any Other Name

2007-04-23T23:48:00.000-05:00

Hey all. I’ve been MIA dealing with a big work conference. It’s over now and I can return to blogging. I bet ya'll all think you know what the pic above is and what it's used for, don't cha? Well, keep reading.

Anyway, I’m working on a few posts, but what I saw tonight when I got home made me grab the laptop for a quick post.

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, drug dealers, mixed with 400K homes and brand new condos popping up daily. Get it?

Our home is small, but neat. My husband isn’t that handy around the house, especially in the yard work. With all the recent rain that we’ve had, our grass looks like this:

It’s kinda pitiful, I know. Hush! Prior to this year, there was a teenager three doors down who cut it every two weeks, but he's gone away to college. I haven't yet found another teenager to handle things.

We also have another neighbor, address unknown, who I call Crack. Crack is a likeable dude, but unfortunately, he’s a an addict. Not sure exactly what his drug of choice is, but there’s definitely a problem. So, Crack comes by every couple of days to offer services like car washing, trash collection, gutter cleaning, etc. He offers most of his services for $5. WTF? Note to Crack – ask for $10 dude. Anyway, hubby and I normally give him at least $10, but sometimes, depending on what the work is, we'll give more.

Fast forward to this evening. As I’m coming in from work, Crack appears and chats me up a bit. After a minute or two, ya girl is ready to get in the house and take my damn stockings off. Crack claims that he knows someone with a lawnmower he can borrow and asks me if I want the grass cut. Uh, Crack, I think I lost my husband in there this morning. Of course I want the grass cut. So, I say yep, cut away.

Hubby arrives and we take a ride to go house hunting (more on that another day). When we return, this is what we see:

What in the Edward Scissorhands, blind grass cutting hell is this? There is no sign of Crack, but there is a collection of tools on the front porch:

Let’s take a closer look at the tools that Crack has chosen for this task:

A hand saw with half a handle? And what the hell was he planning on digging up? Where are the rest of the "fingers" to the rake? Lordie, lordie. My poor lawn. I laughed all the way into the house to get the digital camera. As you can see, this pic was taken at about 9pm and it was pretty dark out. The porch is only lit with motion lights and the entire yard is normally dark.

Crack hasn’t been back to finish, so he may have given up. Judging by the assembled tools, I don’t blame him. He’ll be back. If not tonight, then tomorrow. If you live in NE DC, lock up ya lawnmowers!

My Grandma Should Be On a Stage

2007-04-05T11:15:00.000-05:00

Some of ya’ll out there know my Grandma LouLou in real life. I wrote about a funny conversation that she and I had here. She’s a pistol and she should be a comedian on stage somewhere. But, she’s never actually trying to be funny. She just tells it like she sees it and in her 81 years here, she’s developed a comedic timing that could rival the big boys.

A little background on the conversation that we had over the weekend. LouLou has six children. Our conversation centered around her oldest son. We call him Uncle Phil because he looks like James Avery from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Uncle Phil and Aunt Alice have been married for over 30 years. Aunt Alice happens to be white. Not an issue as far as the family is concerned, but it’s essential to the story. After living in upstate New York all their married life, they’re moving to rural North Carolina this month. Over the last two months, while they put their home on the market, packed, visited NC, etc, they’ve been hard to reach. So, this is what LouLou had to say about the whole thing:

Me: Have you talked to Phil and Alice lately?

LouLou: No. I call and they don’t call me back.

Me: Really? That’s not really like them.

LouLou: I think Alice got a plan.

Me: A plan?

LouLou: Hmm hunh. You know I love Alice right? She’s a good daughter in law. But yesterday, I was watching that Lifetime channel for women. You watch that channel?

* chuckling lightly to myself *

Me: Yes ma’am, sometimes I watch Lifetime.

LouLou: That’s a good channel – sad sometimes, but still good. So anyways, I was watching and I got to thinking. I think that all this not calling back and stuff is part of Alice’s plan. She gonna take Phil down to that little town, where they don’t know nobody, kill him for the insurance and we won’t know for months. Then, after she kills him, we won’t even think nothing of it when he don’t return the calls. She’s setting up a pattern.

Me: Huh? You think Auntie is going to kill Uncle Phil?

LouLou: Well, like I say, I love her and she’s been good to me, but you know how them white women are. They kill their men. And sometimes for no good reason at all.

* silence as I try to control my laughter *

Me: Gram, I’m pretty sure that Auntie is not plotting to kill Uncle Phil.

LouLou: Umh hunh. Ok then, I’m not gonna tell nobody else, but you remember what I say. Come July or August, after it’s all said and done, they won't even be able to find no evidence of the crime in the woods out there. I knew it first.

Me: Isn’t it past your bedtime?

LouLou: I know you think I’m crazy sometimes, but you better mark my words. I know how them white women are and if you don’t, you need to watch a little more of that Lifetime channel for women. They’ll explain it you real good, in a bunch of ways. Good night baby.

Me: Good night Gram.

What more can I say? I love her dearly and she cracks me up.

The Thinker In Me

2007-04-04T09:40:00.000-05:00

Creole and TndrHrt have both done this little quiz and the results seemed very interesting. I know these ladies a bit and I'm learning more over time. The majority of their results seem to accurately describe the women I am getting to know. So, I decided to take the test myself. Check out the site if you'd like to take the test:
http://www.9types.com/newtest/homepage.actual.html

Here are my results:

(I've highlighted, in red, the ones that really nail the essence of me *lol*)

The Observer/The Thinker (the Five)
Observers have a need for knowledge and are introverted, curious, analytical, and insightful.

How to Get Along with Me

Be independent, not clingy.

Speak in a straightforward and brief manner.

I need time alone to process my feelings and thoughts.

Remember that If I seem aloof, distant, or arrogant, it may be that I am feeling uncomfortable.

Make me feel welcome, but not too intensely, or I might doubt your sincerity.

If I become irritated when I have to repeat things, it may be because it was such an effort to get my thoughts out in the first place. (NOT!)

don't come on like a bulldozer.

Help me to avoid my pet peeves: big parties, other people's loud music, overdone emotions, and intrusions on my privacy. (Why the h*ll am I blogging? *lol*)

What I Like About Being a Five

standing back and viewing life objectively

coming to a thorough understanding; perceiving causes and effects

my sense of integrity: doing what I think is right and not being influenced by social pressure

not being caught up in material possessions and status

being calm in a crisis

What's Hard About Being a Five

being slow to put my knowledge and insights out in the world

feeling bad when I act defensive or like a know-it-all

being pressured to be with people when I don't want to be

watching others with better social skills, but less intelligence or technical skill, do better professionally

Fives as Children Often

spend a lot of time alone reading, making collections, and so on

have a few special friends rather than many

are very bright and curious and do well in school

have independent minds and often question their parents and teachers

watch events from a detached point of view, gathering information

assume a poker face in order not to look afraid

are sensitive; avoid interpersonal conflict

feel intruded upon and controlled and/or ignored and neglected

Fives as Parents

are often kind, perceptive, and devoted

are sometimes authoritarian and demanding

may expect more intellectual achievement than is developmentally appropriate

may be intolerant of their children expressing strong emotions

Whoa! That was a pretty accurate read of ya girl. Not a parent yet, but that sounds like the kind of parent I'd be. Ya'll should try it.

It’s a Baltimore Thang Yo

2007-03-26T14:40:00.000-05:00

On Friday, I was kicked in the ass by regional dialect. I live in DC and I've worked in Baltimore for the last two years. Other than driving thru the tunnels on my way to and from NYC, and the occasional stroll around the Inner Harbor, I'd not spent much time in Baltimore. I'm still trying to understand the folks here, but needless to say, they're a little different. *lol* Thank God that "The Wire" helps me translate alot of my conversations.

There’s a young, 19 year old security guard at my job. Let’s call her Tyra, as an ode to her ever changing hairstyles over the two years that I’ve known her. I’ve yet to see her real hair and I’m quite curious, as I know that the blue and yellow wigs circa Li’l Kim, Crush on You, 1997, are not the real deal. And of course the fire red shag and the elbow length blond cornrows worn in the same week are definitely not natural.

With all her fashion and style misgivings, Tyra is a sweet girl. She calls herself, “Baltimore’s Finest” and in many ways, I can see it. She’s a freshman at Loyola and she holds down a full time security job. She still talks just like she’s from a corner somewhere in west Baltimore and she’s proud of it. She reminds me of someone who really wants to live in both worlds. But, I’ll get into that more in a future post.

One day, she and I were discussing food items. She had a craving for an “onion pickle”. Wow. That brought back memories!! I can recall being a kid, growing up in Hempstead, Long Island (NY). Every Saturday morning after Girl Scouts, my mother and I would go to a place called Shoppers Village. It was basically a big warehouse, with about 100 vendor booths inside. Man, you could buy anything there from gold jewelry to homemade gyros. Our favorite place was the pickle stand. They had big barrels of fresh pickles – dill, onion, sweet, garlic, etc. You ordered and store keeper would serve your pickle to you in rectangular plastic bag, full of pickle juice.

Anyways, Tyra told me that there was a spot around her way that sold the best “onion pickle” she’d ever had. She offered to get me one and quicker than she could finish her sentence, I had pulled out two dollar bills. Tyra said that she would pick them up on Friday on her way in. On Friday, I looked forward to her arriving like a kid in a candy store. I hadn’t had an “onion pickle” in over 10 years. 12:30 rolled around and she came into my office swinging a small, black, plastic shopping bag. Ya’ll know the kind that the corner stores use. I could smell the vinegar and could already taste my pickle. I had a silly, childlike grin on my face. Until Tyra pulled these out of the bag:

Huh? WTF? An onion? A damned pickled onion? Huh? Tyra couldn’t understand my confusion and I had to get my raised in Baltimore, educated in Philly co-worker to explain it. Ya’ll, these folks call a “picked onion” an “onion pickle”. Whoa! Stop! Flag on the play for incorrect usage of an adjective and a noun. Wrong. Just plain wrong. Let's break down what the terms should mean. An "onion pickle" should refer to a cucumber that has been pickled in vinegar, and marinated in chopped onions. A "pickled onion" should refer to a peeled onion that has been pickled in vinegar. My friends, those are two very different things. As a matter of fact, Tyra told me that she’s never even tried an actual pickle, “…except for the ones that McDonalds use.” Oh baby girl.

So, at the end of the day, I never got my pickle, Tyra ate my onion and her own, and I got schooled in a little bit of B’more.

A Big Soft Shell Crab

2007-03-16T17:49:00.000-05:00

Hey blog family! Sorry I’ve been MIA for a minute. Late winter into spring is the busiest time of the work year for me. I haven’t had blog block, but I have started about 10 entries and not followed through. Why, you ask? Well, ya’ll didn’t ask, but I’m gonna tell ya’ll anyway. Ya girl was in her feelings. Yep, yours truly had her feelings hurt in writing class last Monday night. I should have just blogged about it then and got it off my chest and out of my mind, but being the Cancer (July baby!) that I am, I internalized and contemplated and debated myself and questioned my feelings and subsequent reaction to the situation. I’m better now, but I still figured I should write about it.

Basically, I was prepared for all the constructive criticism (and I got some really good feedback), but I was unsure how to interpret the comments that my teacher made. So, instead of speaking to her, one on one, ya girl (moi!) retreated into her shell and played the role of the mortally wounded for a few days. Finally, after much gentle prodding from a couple of people close to me, I had decided to call my teacher. I knew that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to focus completely in class. Well, I didn’t have to call her. We crossed paths on Gmail/Google Talk and we got everything worked out. Bottom line, she thinks I’m brilliant! Ok, maybe not brilliant, but she did say that I had talent and she gave me some specific advice and suggestions on how to elevate my novel. The whole experience reminded me of high school. I was pretty smart, but from time to time, I liked to lay in the cut and only exert a minimum amount of energy. Met a teacher that called me on my crap and pushed me harder than any other teacher I've ever had before. At the end of the day, she challenged and encouraged me. That's what I'm feeling now with my teacher. Yippee!

My reaction to the whole situation kinda surprised me. I mean, really. I ain’t no punk! *LOL* Those that know me in the real world can voice that I’m straight NY, mixed with just a bit of Southern charm. But, beneath my tough exterior (crab like shell), ya girl is a big ole marshmallow. Most people never get through the shell. I don’t offend easily and I don’t get hurt easily, but if you slip through the shell, I melt into a big ball of sensitivity.

So, let me ask ya'll – Do you pay any attention to Zodiac signs? Know anyone born under the sign of Cancer, June 21-July 22? Have you ever let someone outside your family and friends hurt your feelings? If so, how did you react? Did you confront the person or just let it go?

Freedom to Disagree

2007-02-20T17:00:00.000-05:00

For someone who talks as much as I do, it's pretty hard to render me speechless. Over the last two weeks, alot has been written and discussed regarding Anna Nicole Smith, the comments made by Tim Hardaway, "The Secret" and the new Tyler Perry movie, "Daddy's Little Girls". I belong to a local listserv and I've been watching silently. Watching and reading most of the comments about these topics, as they've ranged from one end of the spectrum to the other. I've had one particular comment to post, but instead I decided to write a blog about it. It's not about Anna Nicole (me thinks foul play), Tim Hardaway (absolute idiot), "The Secret" (duh) or "Daddy's Little Girls" (D+/C-). I've wanted to say this, why can't we disagree without personally attacking each other or becoming personally offended and highly emotional? I'm at the point where I'm on the verge on cancelling my membership to this listserv. Maybe it's the wrong group of folks for me. There are some great folks, but maybe a few too many close minded ones for the kid.

As my girl Creole often says, please give your opinion but be respectful. Have people in general lost the art of a good debate? Is it impossible, in today's society of "feelings" and "sensitivities", to have an open dialogue, without someone getting nasty? Since when did I have to agree with the majority, simply because? If I surrounded myself with people who agreed with everything I said, we'd be like a damn Amen choir. (Is it bad to use "damn" and "Amen" in the same sentence?)

Let me be a little more specific with my point. Do women know who to discuss an issue? Do women know how to have an actual dialogue and debate? Now clearly, I don't mean all women. But it seems that we (women) are the first group to take personal offense at someone else's opinion, during a dialogue. Is it all women, or all black women more sensitive? I know folks like Creole, TndrHrt, LaBella Noire (and a bunch of other folks that I'm not listing *lol*) can relate their opinions in a rational, concise way and they don't burst into tears, write in all capitals or end their comments with "and that's all I'm gonna say" with the first person that disagrees with them. Remember one of Darius's lines to Nina in "Love Jones"? "Girl, you stomping down the street like somebody stole your fuckin' bike!". That's what the sista's in these dialogues remind me of.

It seems to me that boys and men, disagree and keep it moving. And realize that I'm not talking about "stoopit people" (courtesy Creole) and people who are intentionally trying to offend or criticize. They should be dealt with. *lol* I'm referring to basic discussions where we all have our own opinions. It seems that if I don't agree with the majority, my opinion isn't valid. In particular, folks on my listserve were being attacked for being angered by Tim Hardaway's comments (the attackers claimed free speech), agreeing with "The Secret" on a metaphysical level (the attackers claimed they didn't believe in God) and not liking "Daddy's Little Girls" (the attackers claim that we shouldn't be "badmouthing" Tyler Perry.) Huh? So now I can't have my own thoughts? Why does my differing opinion enrage you so much? What do ya'll think?

Tolerance and Acceptance Trumps Death Any Day

2007-02-06T15:55:00.000-05:00

Do you? Do you really? I’m not a parent yet, so I approach this discussion from a different perspective. I think by now, the case of Rachel Crites and Rachel Smith has made national headlines. Two Maryland teenagers disappeared on January 19, after telling their parents that they were going to a movie. No further contact was made. Their bodies were discovered on February 2, as the apparent "victims" of suicide, by way of carbon monoxide poisoning.

A sheet of paper, stuffed into Crites diary, contained the message, “Wherever I end up laying, whether buried or cremated, I want to stay with my true love, buried next to her. This is my choice. I’m sorry.” Oh. OH. OOOHHHH!!! Her sister has said to the media that “they didn’t run away because of their sexuality.” They didn’t? Hmmm….sure sounds like it to me, but hey, I can only give my opinion of the facts as they are presented. I can say this though, my oldest and dearest friend, Diamond Diva and I have been through it and back over the last 17 years, but I have never, ever referred to her as "my true love".

For whatever the reason, it’s a tragedy that these two young girls chose to take their own lives. I recall my teenage years and they were tough. It seems that teenagers are convinced that “today everything is as important as it ever will be”. They turn minor things into life altering experiences and they get so caught up in “the moment” that they can’t see “the future”. Remember:

You: Guess what? Rhonda didn't speak to me this morning at the bus stop.

Gail, Friend: That's because Rhonda told me that Sheila told her that, Tarika told Sheila, that Dominique said that Pam and Keisha told her that they, saw you talking to Ricky in the hallway. And you know she like Ricky.

You: We was just talking about homework. Dang!

Gail: I believe you, but Pam and Keisha said ya'll looked really sneaky.

Thus, the end (most times temporary) of your friendship with Rhonda. Not sure if guys go through it, but even the most level-headed teenager will have at least one of these ridiculous conversations in her lifetime. I can't imagine compounding the normal teenage nonsense with burgeoning feelings of homosexuality.

If these young ladies had expressed their homosexuality to their family and friends, I can only hope that they were met with open arms. If you can’t tell by reading my blog, I’m pretty much a live and let live kinda person. I don’t give a damn who you chose to love, as long as they love you back and treat you well. Period. Sounds simple, but I truly believe it and I try to live it.

I’ve always felt that way. If I become a parent, will that change? I sure hope not. Of course the future visions of my son or daughter growing up, being healthy and happy. I’d lie if I said that I didn’t dream about the big wedding I’d try to convince each of them to have. *lol* But, none of that is guaranteed. Not their life expectancy their health, their happiness or their heterosexuality. Would I love a homosexual child less or treat them any differently? Today, at the age of 30, in my wide eyed, liberal, non-parental mind, I’ll venture a bet on no. And even if I changed my mind and didn't approve or support their feelings and the situation, would I want them to become depressed and suffer the fate of Smith and Crites? According to the National Center for Health Statistics, there were 31,484 cases of suicide in the United States in 2001. Of that 31,484, 7.9% or 2487 were teenagers between the ages of 15-19 years of age. Wow.

What do ya’ll think? How would you react in finding out that one (or more) of your children was homosexual? Would it matter? Would your opinion of them change? Would you be able to accept the situation? Tolerate it? I bring suicide into the discussion, only in reference to this particular case. I understand that for some people, this issue (sexuality) is deeply rooted in their spirituality/religion. Let’s be respectful of everyone’s opinion and their right to have one.

Everything and Nothing

2007-02-01T23:15:00.000-05:00

Hey folks! I've been a bad blogger lately, hence the week long lag between posts. It seems like there's a bit of everything and a whole lotta nothing going on with me. *lol* I've been working hard on a homework assignment for my writing class. I haven't been visiting my normal blogs, but I'll catch up this weekend. A few thoughts:

At my job, I work with a group of co-workers called, The Human Relations Committee. We sponsor events like the annual field day picnic, angel trees during the holidays, coat and book drive for local shelters and community centers, etc. One of my responsibilities is to create the display board, acknowledging "the month" - February/Black History, March/Women's History, etc. So, this morning, I ask the Graphics Arts Dude (GAD) to make a title banner for Black History Month. He brought me a banner in Times New Roman font, black letters and no border. Huh? Uh, yeah, GAD, I could have done that. So I asked him what's up? Normally the banners he give me are great. Fun fonts, with creative borders, etc. He says, "Well, someone came by after last month's display and suggested that I used a plainer font. They thought that someone might take offense and consider the fonts too ethnic." WTF? Since when do fonts have an ethnic component? I rolled my eyes and walked away.

I just don't know what to make of this case. Not sure if it made national news, so I'll summarize. A young woman, Sintia Mesa, lived in the DC Metro area and traveled to Baltimore every Friday for her personal appointments (hair and nails). The original reports were that she was missing and the family made pleas for her safe return. She had a sweet smile and an innocent face. Unfortunately, she was found murdered in the trunk of her car. Damn. Another tragic death. Then more of the story began to emerge. Hmm, maybe Ms. Mesa wasn't so innocent. Don't misunderstand what I'm saying. I didn't wish the young lady harm, nor do I think that anyone deserves to be murdered. However, the facts of the case are a bit on the shady side (a boyfriend, an arrest, drugs, money in a storage unit, tracking devices, the ATF, etc). I'd like to get to the bottom of the story.

It's 11:15pm and there ain't a lick of snow or ice on the ground. Why are 2 DC Charter Schools closed tomorrow because of "inclement conditions"? That's what the news anchor just said. Call me Stevie Wonder, cause I can't see it.

So far, I've met 3 local DC bloggers: Creole Princess, TenderHeart and Honest. Great, great ladies that I really enjoyed meeting. Based on the local folks that I read, I think it would be interesting to meet Bklyn Diva, The Hostess, LaBella Noire, Fresh, Thinking and Enigma. Their blogs amuse me and/or make me think. I hope this isn't interpreted as blog sweating or stalking. *lol* These folks just give me the "sane, cool peeps vibe". And now, I've clearly given them the "crazy woman" vibe.
Why am I hooked on watching "A Different World" in reruns? I think I've seen every single episode at least 5 times and I still look forward to them.

The marketing campaign for the Cartoon Networks, "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" and the overanxious folks in Boston gave me the best laugh of the week. This deserves an 80's throwback - CHILL OUT!!

I'm normally a pretty tech savvy person, but I'm having the damnedest time figuring out how to add a Blog Roll to my page. *lol* Can somebody who has mastered that in Blogger help ya girl out? Thanks in advance!

I'll talk to ya'll later!

Engaged and Underage?

2007-01-25T20:45:00.000-05:00

In case ya'll didn't know, I'm a wee bit hooked on reality television. Not all shows mind you, just the one's that I listed here. So, I saw a preview for a new MTV show, Engaged and Underage and knew that I had to at least watch the first episode. Usually, it only takes one episode to hook me, but I had convinced myself that I would not get hooked on a new show. Uh, yeah, right, so obviously I've programmed my DVR and I'll be watching this series. *lol* I'm hopeless! Anyways, on to the show. The title had me prepared to see folks in there teens getting married, but not quite. The couples are all between 18-22, which by today's standard is "young" for marriage. But is it too young? To hear the family and friends on the show talk, hell yes. Well, some seemed supportive, but the common consensus seemed to be, "WAIT!"

Back in the day, folks got married at 13, 14, 15. Shoot, my Grandma LuLu was married at 14 and had my oldest uncle before she was sixteen. But, is that simply "the way it was" and no longer the way it is? Are these "young" couples in the minority? It seems that more and more folks that I know are waiting until their 30's to get married. By then, you've been dated, started a career, etc, so you're ready to embrace coupledom. As my one girlfriend said, "I finally know who I am and I can offer my complete self to him and him to me."

But what if you fall in love and decide that you understand the commitment of marriage at say 18 or 19; why not do the damn thing? Kids today seem to grow up faster in some ways, yet more immature than previous generations. Hmm, interesting. On the opposite end of the spectrum, in an entry titled, "Kinda from my inbox: Ya'll Been Dating How Long?", Creole Princess is discussing how long you date someone with a traditional commitment.

What do ya'll think? How young is too young? If you're younger than 22, how long should you date before getting engaged? And once engaged, how long should you wait to get married? I know that every couple and every situation is different. And, I also know that there are always exceptions to the rule. Cool. So don't say it. *lol* I want to know what you think. Would you or did you get married at 20? Know any 20 year olds ready for marriage? Let's talk!

Am I the Only One?

2007-01-20T20:10:00.000-05:00

Whew, maybe I do have a "hard heart". In case you've been out of the news loop, you can read all about it here. I'll summarize, a Sacramento radio station held a contest. Participants attempted to out drink each other and not go to the bathroom. The winner received a Nintendo Wii. The second place contestant, Jennifer Strange, died 5 hours later from water intoxication. Since then, the DJ's have been fired, the Strange's family is suing and the Sacramento County Sheriff's Department is thinking of pressing charges. Huh?

The DJ's are responsible? Huh? Ok, maybe I'm a little slow on the uptake. You enter a contest, sign a waiver (account differ as to what these said), get hurt (or die) and through no direct action on my part, it's my fault? Say what? I know we live in a litigious society and that we love to place blame on "someone" for everything, but in this case? Did I miss the part where the DJ's held loaded weapons to the participants heads and forced them to drink the water? I think that it is the responsibility of the participants to investigate the risks of the behavior in which they are about to participate. No one else seems to agree.

Alot is being made of the fact that the participants weren't specifically told that water intoxication was a possibility. During the show, a woman called in (some reports have her a nurse, others as a regular caller) to warn everyone that it was a possibility. Yeah, the DJ's were pretty callous and insensitive, saying "We know. That's why they signed release forms." Ok, hold up. Wasn't one argument that the participants were "told" about water intoxication? Let's say they weren't. So, when the lady called in and informed you, what then? Obviously, the participants chose to ignore the caller. Hmm, they seemed rrreeeaaallll concerned with their personal safety.

Ok, well, let's see if I've got this right. Let's say I run a contest offering a diamond tennis bracelet to the person that can do a Polar Bear swim. Whoever stays in the water the longest, gets the bracelet. Everyone signs release forms. What if a participant jumps in and has a heart attack? Is that my fault? If I don't specifically tell you that you might have a heart attack, it's my fault? What about you? YOU entered the contest, YOU signed the waiver, YOU jumped in the water. Did YOU ever consider that it might be dangerous? Did YOU investigate before you participated in a stupid prank for a got darn video game system?

Well, that's my $.02. I'm pretty sure that my opinion is in the minority. I'd love to hear what ya'll have to say. And no throwing of large stones. Tiny pebbles only! :)

Fulfilling Goals

2007-01-18T09:17:00.000-05:00

Hi all! I hope that everyone is doing well. I've got about 10 post started, but I haven't felt like finishing them. *lol* Shoot me!

Way back when I started my blog, I did a "Then and Now" Meme. The last question was, "Looking back, are you where you thought you would be in 2006?" and part of my answer was, "Thought I'd have finished writing my first book." Well, I'm still working on it. I've been writing alot lately, but I've got a little ways yet to go. I decided that I would finish my first draft in 2007. I miss the community of writers that I used to commune with and I believe that it's stunted some of my creative juices. That's a bit of an excuse, but let me use it, ok? :)

Recently, I heard of a 14 week Creative Writing Workshop, at a local University, with a brilliant published author leading the course. So, I thought about it, printed out the first 20 pages of my manuscript and claimed a spot in that class for myself. *lol* Gotta think positive, ya know?

Well, I got great news over the weekend. I got in!! I'm so excited ya'll. I think this is the path that I'm supposed to be on. I feel like I'm on top of the world and that this book WILL BE completed in 2007. It's one of my goals for 2007.

What about ya'll? Have you made any goals for 2007? If so, what are you doing to achieve them? Let's talk about it, send some positive energy into the atmosphere and make it happen!

A Touch of Sarcism and A Little Bit of Cynicism!!

2007-01-10T11:16:00.000-05:00

A co-worker sent me this link and I've been laughing like crazy. Check out this site for more "demotivating" slides. Since blogger has a mind of it's own, I was only to post one of my favorites. I've got a really sarcastic sense of humor sometimes, so many of these spoke to me. Hope you enjoy at least one of these.

Happy New Year!

2007-01-08T14:00:00.000-05:00

Hey, hey Blogworld! Hope everyone had an enjoyable holiday season and that the new year has begun wonderfully. I've been sick since December 28, thus the posting hiatus. One million and one topics (ranging from the obscure and silly to the relevant and serious) have popped through my head, so I'll be sure to write something this week. Take care ya'll!

Merry F***ing Christmas Mrs. Hard Heart!

2006-12-21T10:19:00.000-05:00

I was having a discussion yesterday with a buddy who we'll call Hot Sauce. A buddy is someone that I know, who's a little more than an associate, but a little less than a friend. We worked together a couple of years ago, so we try to get together at least once or twice a year for dinner and catching up. We get along well, but we usually have very different opinions of things. I like having discussions with all kinds of people, whether we agree or not. Some of my best discussions have been with people with differing opinions. I love it when we don't agree but can engage each other in an interesting back and forth dialogue. Engage the mind, man!

So, we're enjoying fresh guacamole and chips at Rosa Mexicano Restaurant in NW Washington, DC and having great conversation. BTW - if you're in the area and haven't been, you should go. Anyways, so we start talking about current events - how great Mary J has been looking lately, laughter over Obama's NFL commercial, etc., when the subject of the 3 missing hikers comes up. Just in case you've been under a rock, here's the deal - 3 friends went mountain climbing on Mount Hood in Oregon, a big storm hit and they are now presumed dead. If you want more details, read this. We both agreed that it was a sad story and that our prayers were with the families.

Then things got a little heated. Not on my end, but on her end. I feel that daredevils fail to analyze the inherent risk in certain activities, and the impact that a "problem" will pose to other people. If you want to bungee jump, parasail, climb a mountain, take pictures of a tsunami, journey to the center of the earth or any other activity that the "average" person is not doing, go for it! Who am I to tell you not to go? Enjoy yourself. But, as a realist and a tax paying citizen, I have to question military search and rescue teams for persons participating in leisure activities. I'm a little hesitant to support the search and rescue of your silly ass when the shit fits the fan. Yep, you heard me. I know that money is spent everyday on billions on worthwhile and worthless missions and causes, but I see this as a little different. Of course accidents happen, but your involvement in high risk behaviors increase the odds that something may happen to you.

Well, Hot Sauce damn near lost it. She got huffy with me and started stuttering and saying, "What if that was your father or husband?" And I responded, "They're not climbing any mountains." At this point, I've got a giggle about to escape and my face is set in a smile, which makes Hot Sauce even madder. She got up, pushed in her chair, tossed $20 on the table, grabbed her purse and said, "Well, you have a Merry F***ing Christmas Mrs. Hard Heart!"

Folks, I almost fell out of my chair. That's the best laugh that I've had in awhile. So, in honor or my buddy Hot Sauce, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!

Ride or Die Friends (Inspired by Diva in Demand)

2006-12-15T01:25:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, Diva in Demand talked about Ride or Die Friends. The kind of folks that you may not kick it with everyday, or share every one of lifes little details, but you can call them in a pinch when you need someone - to roll with, to stalk *lol*, to complete a mission, to handle business. That's a brief explanation. Almost anything within reason is expected from a ride or die friend. I'm not going buy or hold any drugs for you, nor should you expect me carry a loaded gun through Reagan Airport. But since I don't have the kinds of friends that would be involved in that type of ish normally, I don't really have to worry about that phone call. Put it like this, you'll know if you have some ride or die friends. :) If you don't understand the term or the explanation, you may not have any. *lol*

Anyway, I have 3. Yesterday, I mentioned 2, but I actually have 4. Oops! Diamond Diva, who lives in MD, CSI who lives in Atlanta, Monie Love in Northern Virginia and my old friend Beanie (not sure where she is). We've followed folks, "borrowed" cell phones to check call histories, gotten into fist fights, bailed each other out of jail, accompanied each other on visits to hospitals, jails, federal prisons and funeral homes, and spent a night in jail together.

One memorable night found us in DC, at the old Mirage night club. Now, ya girl is not a regular club hopper, but Diamond Diva, CSI and Monie Love are. So every 6 or 7 months, they guilt me and drag me out. For those that have never been to the Mirage in DC, it was a pretty bare bores, yucky kinda club. Kind of a last resort or a "I don't feel like dressing up, but I wanna go out" club; even jeans flew on Saturday nights. Admission was cheap, drinks were strong, music was good and the men actually danced (ok they grinded, but close enough). So the girls, myself and 3 other "associates" headed out for a Saturday night of fun.

Fast forward to 2am, we're ready to leave and head uptown to Yums for the mandatory after the club food. Diamond Diva has a little too much to drink and she decides that although she's only ever fought her older brother, she's ready to battle a girl that supposedly stepped on her foot. WTF? Oh, alcohol dreams! Well, we had no choice but to join in. The 3 associates disappeared faster than crabcakes on a free buffet. CSI, Monie Love and I joined Diamond Diva and her Rum and Coke inspired bravado into a 4 (us) on 6 (them) full on girl fight. 'Cause as a ride or die friend doesn't ask punches when the punches start flying, they just start punching.

No need to give the blow by blow of the fight, but we won and we all spent a night in the pookie! None of us have a police record, but we've got one helluva night of memories!! To my ride or die girls, I love ya!! If you have some, reach out and give them a holla today!

Movies, Movies, Movies

2006-12-11T10:30:00.000-05:00

I love movies. As long as I catch it from the beginning, I can be pulled into almost any movie. I typically avoid really old period pieces (Troy, Gladiator, etc) and Sci-Fi (Matrix, Star Wars, etc). Any movie that makes me cry is a winner. Basic formula that gets my tear ducts working is any combination of a little romance, a little suspense, star crossed lovers, and of course, the breakup and reconciliation of a friendship or romance

This weekend, VH1 played on my favorites about 89 times and my remote control seemed to tune to it repeatedly. Since it was one of my favorites, I started reminiscing about my other favorites and decided to share. I could on and on, but I'll just mention my absolute favorites.

Top 3 Movies

Dirty Dancing - The story of a summer love, between a bad boy, dance instructor and a good girl. How could you not love Johnny and Baby? Their connection was so quick and unexpected, that the romantic in me could watch this movie a million times. I think I'm up to about 1000. My favorite lines are:

Penny to Baby - "Go back to your playpen, Baby. "

Johnny to Everyone - "I'm gonna do my kind of dancin' with a great partner, who's not only a terrific dancer; somebody who's taught me that there are people willing to stand up for other people no matter what it costs them; somebody who's taught me about the kind of person I wanna be. "

And of course, Diva in Demand and I agree of this wonderful line, spoken from Baby to Johnny - "Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you."

The Five Heartbeats - story of an African American singing group, from their rise to fame in the 60's to their downfall in the late 70's. I laugh, cry and sing every time I watch this movie. It's got it all for me - friendship, love, music, action, scandal, overcoming addiction, etc. It was so well written and acted. The set design for each time period was dead on - vehicles, clothing, hair, etc. Beware - never watch it with me. I know about 90% of the dialogue. Favorite lines:

Eddie to the group: "Ya'll sure you wanna sang with ole Eddie King Jr?"
(tears in my eyes every time)

Random man to himself, in restaurant - "Every night, I gotta fight to prove my love!"
(that line cracks me up every time)

Donald "Duck" to audience at Awards Ceremony - "I was at a party once and a critic said, 'Donald Matthews will be a great writer when he suffers more.' And I though to myself, what does that mean - suffers more? Well, I'm on my way to becoming a great writer and I have two people to thank - my fiancee Tonya and my brother JT. My brother...who's been the same selfish m****f***a since we were kids!"

Space Camp - This movie is about 5 kids and an instructor at Space Camp, who accidentally get thrust into space. Ya'll I loved this movie so much that for months, I begged my parents to send to the real NASA Space Camp in Huntsville, Alabama. During the summer of 1988, I actually went to The Space Academy and I loved it. This movie holds a special place in my heart and is definitely my favorite cheesy 80's movie. Favorite lines:

Katheryn to Kevin - "My mom always says that being boss and being bossy aren't the same. "

Tish to the group - "Whip me, beat me, take away my charge cards... NASA is talking!"

Kevin to Katheryn - "What's the worst thing that can happen? We'll all die, right?"

If you've never seen these, check 'em out. Here's the rest of my top 10:

4. Beaches
5. Purple Rain
6. Grease
7. Harlem Nights
8. Lady Sings the Blues
9. Shawshank Redemption
10. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

What are your favorite movies and favorite lines from them?

Requiem for a Friendship

2006-12-07T23:48:00.000-05:00

I love Christmas Music. Did ya'll hear me? Seriously, I have over 500 Xmas mp3's. An assortment of Whitney, Toni, Donny, the Boys Choir of Harlem, Luther, Mariah, N'Sync (hush, they were soulful on their xmas album), the Ohio Players, the Temptations, Kenny G, New Edition, SWV and many, many others fill my speakers from Thanksgiving morning until 11:59pm Christmas night.

I've got 2 mp3 CD's in the car, so at any give time, I have 300 tunes playing at random. This morning, "Silver Bells" by A Few Good Men. Does anyone other than me even remember this group? I think they had one CD of their own, but they were featured on "A La Face Family Christmas" CD that came out in 1993. Bet'cha didn't even know La Face had a Christmas CD!

Anyway, I was exposed to this song through an old friend who we'll call Beanie. Beanie and I met during my first year in college. The New Yorker (me) and the Southerner by way of Richmond, VA (her) bonded immediately and by our second year, she and I were as thick as thieves. Very different, but we had forged such a deep friendship because we were both very easygoing and we LOVED to laugh. At the end of our third year, we had a falling out. Funny but I don't even remember what it was about now. Isn't that silly? Whatever it was, we obviously thought it was serious enough to not speak for a year.

We reconnected and fell back into our old rhythm. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well you all know how it goes. After graduation, Beanie landed a job in Northern Virginia. She didn't have enough money to get her own place, so my parents offered our home to her. But it's all good, cause we're homies, right? I'd had (and still have) the same best friend (Diamond Diva) for years. We each had a "best" friend outside of our friendship, but we were roommates and "everyday" friends, which is different.

Fast forward a year and a half - Beanie's dating a jerk (Army Boy)and moves out to live with him. Uh, ok, you're grown and I can't stop you. You're my girl, so even if I don't like him, I'll suck it up for the peace within our friendship. Fast forward 1 year - coincidentally, my husband and I move into an apartment in NW Washington, across the street from Beanie and Army Boy. Beanie interviews and gets a job at the company I work for. Geez, the four of us are together too damn much! *lol*

Fast forward 1 more year - Beanie's best friend calls to ask me what I'd be getting Beanie and Army Boy for their wedding anniversary. **blinking rapidly while listening to the crickets** Come again? Wedding? Beanie and Army Boy? Uh, I guess we weren't quite as close as it seemed. We only went to work and came home together, shopped together, ate dinner most nights together, traveled together and shared holidays together. Hell, sorry for the TMI, but that heifer knew when my Aunt Flo came and went. I was hurt and I felt like our friendship was being played out through a lie. How can you look me in the face and not share something SO BIG? Even if it was a spur of the moment Vegas type thing, wouldn't you call me once the deed was done? She let a whole year go by and she never said a word. I could go into more details but this entry would be 100 pages long. Ya'll get the drift.

So, since I'm so good at keeping my emotions and anger in check *lmao*, I confronted her. Many, many things were said that should never be said in the heat of an argument. The kind of things that you can't take back when you both calm down. The kind of words and well aimed jabs that "sorry" can't erase. The kind of wounds that stay infected even after they've scabbed over and appear to be healed.

So, I often think of Beanie and the parts of our friendship that were good, while trying to not think about why and how it ended. I was bitter, but I'm past that now. I find it especially hard during the holidays because we used to enjoy them together. This song, "Silver Bells" by A Few Good Men, was her favorite Christmas Song. Not my favorite, but it meant something to her; so now when I hear it, I turn it up loud, sing along with the brothers and say a prayer that my old friend is well. She's out of my life, but not forgotten.

Them Vs. Us

2006-12-03T19:25:00.000-05:00

I love 99% of my commute from Washington, DC to Baltimore, MD. I travel along the Baltimore Washington Parkway and it's a very direct and typically stress free trip. Except when they are on the road. For those of you who are not familiar, the BW Parkway is two lanes for approximately 25 miles. Yes, only two lanes. And two lane highways ALWAYS bring them out.

I detest them. Some days, I don't see any of them. And other days, I want to pull out my hair and banish them from earth. Who are they, you ask? You might just be one of them. I hope not, because if so, your feelings may be hurt by what I'm about to say.

Slowers drivers should move to the right because the left lane is for passing.

Huh? What'd you say TDJ? Say it a little louder for those that didn't get it the first time. I said, Slower drivers should move to the right because the left lane is for passing.

Let me say this - no matter the speed limit or how fast you're driving, if you are in the left lane with empty road ahead of you, MOVE and let the cars behind you go. This is especially true if they are very close to the rear of your car, if they have honked at you or flashed their lights. Don't get me wrong, I think tailgating is dangerous and I think honking and flashing is aggressive and rude. But, like Chris Rock said, "I ain't sayin' it's right, but I understand."

Now folks who observe the posted speed limits and drive in the left lane will object to this post.

They'll say, "I'm going the speed limit, so I can stay in the left lane."
I say, "No, the left lane is for passing, so if someone is trying to pass you, then you need to move from the left lane."

They'll say, "You're going too fast and it's dangerous."
I say, "Get in the right lane and I'll be past you before you know it. Crisis averted."

They'll say, "I'm not moving because you're speeding and you shouldn't be going that fast anyway."
I say, "Until you get a badge and the ability to pull me over for speeding, move the hell outta my way. I'll worry about the law, but thanks your concern."

They'll say, "The speed limit is 55 and I'm going 65."
I say, "Yes, but we all learned that 70 and 75 are faster than 65. No matter how fast you're going, if I appear to be going faster, move it slow poke!"

Bottom line, stay in the right lane if you're not a fast driver. If you happen to be in the left lane, please realize that your rear view and side mirrors are there to help you, not hurt you. If you see a car approaching rapidly in the mirror, that mean's they're going faster than you, so move to the right. If the road in front of you is clear and there is a line of cars behind you, move to the right. Some drivers get so frustrated, they begin to play the zig zag game, just to get past them.

Perhaps I'm a bit impatient and ya girl is always in a rush. Perhaps. Or maybe I just seem like I'm in a rush because they're driving like we're on a country road in Idaho, on the way to Sunday service.

I'll probably get some cheers from the other fast drivers and some strong words from them, but don't worry, I'm ready for them. I drive a Volkswagon Passat and I'll be in the left lane going so fast that they won't be able to catch me.

Did I Miss Something?

2006-11-29T14:20:00.000-05:00

I think I'm pretty well connected to the world around me. My cell is on during the ride to work. I have email accounts with yahoo, hotmail and gmail. Then of course I have email and a fax machine at work. I always check the text messages on my phone. Once I get home, I empty the mailbox and read all the contents. Once in the house, I check the phone for messages. I read the Washington Post and CNN daily. Most days I watch the local news and the national evening news. I keep a calendar with all the important events, meetings and community functions that I'm scheduled to attend.

So, with all those ways of getting my attention, how in the hell did I miss the memo? Where was I when the email came through saying that I'm not supposed to like Beyonce? How'd I miss the call to tell me that she really isn't that pretty? Did my fax eat the memo declaring that she's untalented? Did my Razr phone delete the text message must telling me to boycott Dreamgirls because she's in it? Did my husband forget to tell me that we were invited to attend a Pop Culture Voting party to decide how we felt about B?

Everyone has the right to their opinion. And it seems that the popular opinion of the moment is to not like Beyonce. She overrated, she doesn't sing that well, her performances are average, her acting is laughable, her body is odd shaped, why is she dating Jay-Z, House of Derion clothes are ugly, etc. I happen to like Miss Beyonce.

Argh! Don't stone me! I can like her and I'm not afraid to say it. I don't think she's the next coming of Aretha Franklin or Whitney Houston, but who says she has to be? She's more talented than the foolishness that is Cierra or Cassie. I like Beyonce's youthful energy, her live performances are wonderful and her voice is becoming stronger. She's shown a bit of business savvy (or surrounding herself with folks who make her look it) by starting her clothing line (I hear that a cosmetics line is on the way). I commend the marketing and public relations team who work for her and Sony, because they are doing one hell of job keeping her out there. From music to movies, from magazines to television appearances, from her current search for female dancers to simply being photographed while shopping, they keep that young lady in our faces. Ahha! Maybe that's it. Ya'll are seeing so much of her that you've had enough? I guess that would make the assumption that at one point you actually liked her, but oversaturation has dulled your ardor. Hmm, kinda like saying that I liked my husband alot, but once we moved in together, I was seeing him too much and now I've had enough. Crazy, but I guess it happens. *lol*

To hear folks tell it, Beyonce can't sing, dance, act, walk, talk or chew gum. Wow! All those opinions over little ole B? I guess that means she has really made it. If the public can't stop talking about 'cha, baby, you're a star!

(photo courtesy of Ms. YBF)

Live Each Day to the Fullest

2006-11-27T23:31:00.000-05:00

Hey there Blog World! I hope that everyone had a peaceful and wonderful Thanksgiving.

Just heard that one of my favorite authors, Bebe Moore Campbell, passed away today, Monday, November 27, 2006. The first novel that I read by Ms. Campbell was, "Sweet Summer: Growing Up With and Without My Dad.", during the summer of 1991. My parents and I had moved from Long Island, New York to Alexandria, Virginia. I was away from my family, my friends and all my wonderful memories, but Ms. Campbell's novel slid into a void that I didn't know how to fill. Since my mother was a reader of all the available African American fiction at the time (Gloria Naylor, Terri McMillan, etc), I was familiar with them, but they felt "old". Ms. Campbell's fresh voice and detailed storytelling amazed me. Through the years, I've enjoyed all her novels. Her characters were increasing complicated and human, the storylines well written and layered, and the themes as varied as ever.

Back in March when I read that she was taking a break from the her appearances due to a "neurological condition that will require her full attention for recovery", I sent a card with prayers and well wishes. I was confident that I'd be reading a new novel in no time at all.
It wasn't to be.

Rest in peace Ms. Campbell. The wonderful body of work that you have written will forever remain and continue to touch the lives of your readers.

Something I Can Feel

2006-11-17T10:10:00.000-05:00

Growing up in a household where music was supreme, I grew to love good music at an early age. My dad played drums in a popular, local band. They even opened a few concerts for national groups at the time like the Stylistics and the Delfonics. My father, mother and I sang around the house constantly and there was always music playing. I love, love, love music. I like all genres, as long as it moves me. I need to believe that you really love him and don't want him to leave. I gotta really feel that you're heartbroken that she's gone. I need to understand how much you want to make love tonight. I want to feel the beat so intense that I must dance - whether in my car, at the club or in my bedroom in my jammies! Music can make a bad day feel like a distant memory. It can enhnace some of lifes most beautiful moments. Every song that I hear to tied to a year, a specific place, person, thing or event. It's like the soundtrack to life.

My parents loved Motown and everything 60's, so that's in my soul. My favorite older cousin was a dance/disco head, so that's in my heart. I am a child of the eighties, so the decade where anybody could be a one hit wonder still makes me smile. I was around during the birth of rap/hip hop (or whatever term you fancy) so that's in my psyche. MTV was all there was for many years so I'm also a little country and a little bit rock and roll. Ten songs that recently played on my IPOD:

These Arms of Mine - Otis Redding
She's Gone - Hall and Oates
Until it Happens to You - Corrine Bailey Rae
Cappuccino - MC Lyte
So Much Love Here - B Angie B
We're Still Friends - Donny Hathaway
Isn't She Lovely - Stevie Wonder
Encore - Jay-Z
No Happy Holidays - Mary J. Blige
Last Night a DJ Saved My Life - Indeep

Yep, ya girl is all over the place and I love it. You'll notice no current rap/hip hop on there with the exception of Jigga. Overall, I'm pretty disappointed with hip hop music over the last 3-5 years; again, with the exception of Jigga. There are a few folks that I like - Common, The Roots, a little L.L., a little Busta, and a random sprinkling of other songs. But, in general, that's not my first love right now.

However, I love Jay! So focused, intense, talented, business savvy and a hell of an MC. I love about 80% of the music he makes. Even when I don't like the beat, I usually can respect the creativity and the wordplay. He's not conventionally attractive, but there's something about the confidence of his swagger.

On my way in to work this morning, I was listening to the new Jay-Z CD. Yes, it's a bootleg. Don't shoot me. I'll still be buying it on November 21st, but I just couldn't wait to hear it. It's hot! And, I hope this will usher in the beginning of "Grown Up Hip Hop". Of course the lyrics run the gamut, but the overwhelming feeling that I get from the album is, "I'm a grown ass man, dog, and I still love hip hop."

I like tracks 1-8 and 13, 9 and 10 will need to grow on me, don't like 11 and 14, and 13 is a great for putting some folks on blast. One of my favorites is a track entitled, "30 something", in which he compares the 38 year old that he is today to the youngsta that he was and to the youngsta's of today. For example, in one line he says, I'm young enough to know which cars are hot, but old enough to not put chrome on em. (Haven't listened closely enough to get the lyrics exactly right. Sorry!) The chorus reminds us that 30 is the new 20. :) Yeah, I'm definitely feeling the new Jay-Z CD. I love it when new music gives me that feeling!

Diary of An Addiction

2006-11-15T15:19:00.000-05:00

It all started back in 1992. May 21, 1992 to be exact. As my junior year in high school was coming to a close, I had thoughts of senior year, SATS, prom and college filling my head. At that time, the amount of television I watched was minimal. But, I did have my favorites. Part of my addiction can be blamed on those shows.

I think if my three favorite television loves at the time had not ended, maybe I wouldn't have been so vulnerable. The Cosby's had been a part of my television landscape for so long that saying goodbye was bittersweet. I still wanted to watch their stories, but even I knew we'd never love Cousin Pam, Olivia and the twins, Nelson and Winnie, the way that we did Sandra, Denise, Theo, Vanessa and Rudy. Claire and Cliff were still themselves, but they kind of felt like ringleaders trying to corral a 2nd rate circus. At the time, I liked "A Different World" because it felt a little like "The Cosby Show", but I didn't love it yet. It took me going to college, to actually love it. *lol* So, on April 30, 1992 all the Cosby's said goodbye.

A mere 9 days later, my favorite ladies exited TVland. Sophia, Dorothy, Blanche and Rose had made me laugh and cry for years. Although a bit of the sexual humor went over my teenage head, I got the gist of it! The thought of never hearing another St. Olaf story from Rose was almost heartbreaking. "The Golden Girls" still keep me laughing in reruns.

As if those two weren't enough, one of my first action heroes was Richard Dean Anderson, aka, MacGyver. I don't know, but there was something about him that glued me to the tv screen. So, on May 21, 1992 when he said goodbye to tv world, I almost cried.

So, there I was, mourning the loss of three of my favorite shows when I started to channel surf. Purely by accident, coincedence or cosmic intervention, I stumbled onto, "This is the true story, of seven strangers, picked to live in a house, work together and have their lived taped, to find out what happens when people stop being polite, and start getting real. The Real World".

Instantly, these seven captivated me and millions of others. The roommates included Heather B, the rapper and person most likely to tell it like it is; Julie, the sheltered naive girl from Birmingham who was shocked by the big city and the antics of her roommates, and of course Kevin Powell, the writer and social thinker, with a much bigger future than anyone else on that show.

That show pulled me in - hook, line and sinker! And I'm been caught up ever since. Reality television was a drug and this sista was addicted. If it's a reality show (minues dating shows), odds are ya girl is watching it. *lol* So, without further ado, let us join the Reality Television Junkies Anonymous Meeting already in progress:

Hi Room, I'm TDJ. I'm a reality television addict and I need some help. It's filling my DVR machine and taking up countless hours of my time. Look at all the shows I've watched faithfully or am currently watching:

Reality Shows TDJ Watched or is Currently Watching

Real World
Road Rules
The Amazing Race
Survivor
Big Brother
Dancing with the Stars
Top Chef
Next Food Network Star
Next HGTV Design Star
Newlyweds
The Surreal Life
Making the Band
The Biggest Loser
American Idol
Project Runway
The Apprentice
America's Next Top Model
The Contender
Celebrity Fit Club
Made
Hell's Kitchen
Airline
Fraternity Life
Sorority Life
AmericaCasinoon
Amish in the City
The 70's House
The Mole

Good gracious! I wish I'd never "met" Heather, Julie, Kevin, Eric, Norm, Andre or Becky, in their cute NYC loft on May 21, 1992. Maybe, just maybe, if I hadn't had that first taste, I wouldn't be addicted now.

One of the Last Girls on Earth

2006-11-14T21:27:00.000-05:00

If you desire to get married and you are dating someone who keeps promising that it will happen, how long is too long to wait? I mean is there a point when you decide that you waited long enough? Do you ever consider that it really is "about him" and not "about you"?

One of my newest friends, let's call her Cali Girl, has been in my life for about 5 years. I refer to her as new because all my friends prior to meeting her were from childhood, high school or first year of college. I love meeting new people, but it's very hard for me to bring them into my life as a "friend". I've been trying to be more open and thanks to a few ladies in the Blogosphere, I'm starting to make new friends. :)

Anyways, Cali Girl and I clicked and we've been friends for a few years now. Well, unbeknownst to me at the time our friendship was conceived, Cali Girl likes drama. Some might even say she craves it. AAGGHH!!! Drama? Around me? No, No, NO!! Ya girl TDJ avoids drama at all costs! So, anyway, Cali Girl and her man have been together for 10 years and they have a 5 year old son. They've been getting married "when the time is right" for 10 years. (In the interest of full disclosure, MJ and I started dating in high school and waited 10+ years to marry.) Now, I've met the man and I'm pretty sure that he's pinch hitting for both teams.

Pause. Breathe. Read it again. Yes, Cali Girl's boo is clearly bisexual. I suspected it based on many, many interactions, the confirmation of the bros at the beauty/barber shop that we all used to frequent, and independent confirmation from a male associate that called to share details on the new "friend" in his life. Da hell? CG's boo is on the DL in DC?

Alrightee then. So, Cali Girl's boo is definitely bisexual! Hmm, they've been together ten years. Does she know? Maybe she does. Does she care? Maybe she doesn't. Should I be the one to break it to her? Where's her sister? Her best friend from kindergarten? Why the hell don't they see it? I gently hinted around it once and Cali Girl's response was blank and difficult to interpret. However, her excitement bubbled through the phone this past Sunday when shared how excited she was that they were talking about getting married in 2012? What da hell? What are they organizing - the 2012 Olympics or a wedding/marriage? I guess hope springs eternal when you're crazy in love. Or maybe she just feels like one of the last girls on earth.

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

2006-11-13T17:34:00.000-05:00

"Let's agree to respect each other's views, no matter how wrong yours may be"

After all, isn't that the attitude out here in the Blogosphere? I've been visiting blogs for a few weeks now, before deciding to start one of my own. I especially like blogs that promote communication and open discussion between the commenters and with the writer of the blog. Ya know, good old fashioned dialogue, new generation style. *lol*

The one thing that bothers me is the bickering. It seems as though people are easily offended (by strangers, mind you) and take general comments very personally. Huh? You mean someone that you've never met, won't ever meet unless your lucky (or unlucky), and doesn't know you from the man in the moon has hurt your feelings? I just don't get it. So I guess the next time I'm floating through the Blogosphere, I'll prepare myself to be personally offended by anyone who:

doesn't believe in marraige
thinks that all New Yorkers are rude
doesn't like Washington, D.C.
thinks plus size women are unattractive

So let's say that I'd been on welfare in the past, would I take offense to any statement where someone disagreed with the welfare program? Let's say that I was a single mom, would I take offense to anyone who said that they were waiting to be married to have a child? Or better yet, if I was in my second or third marraige, should I take offense to someone who mentions that their marraige is going to last forever?

I could go on and on. My point ( I tend to wander at times *lol*) is that we're not all identical. We've experienced different things in our lives that have shaped the people we've become. I don't know about ya'll, but I LOVE meeting different kinds of people. We may not agree on everything, but I'd love to have a lively discussion with you. Your unique opinions are yours and yours alone. And guess what? We can disgree and neither of us is wrong. But, like Ms. Creole Princess said "Stoopit people have no room in my world." Couldn't have said it better myself!

No Photoshop Needed

2006-11-13T11:47:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I've changed my picutre/avatar. The original avatar that I used was from Yahoo and I selected it because I thought the outfit was cute. This morning one of my girlfriends, let's call her CSI, looked at the blog for the first time and said: "Who's that skinny white girl?" *LOL* Uh, that's supposed to me be!

So, in an effort to choose a picture that's more representative of my beautiful, big girl curves, I've changed to the pic you now see. It was in the "Apperance" section of Yahoo Avatars, under "Plus Sizes." Well, yeah, it's bigger than the teeny weeny girls, but real Plus Size it's not.

Anyway, CSI and I laughed about it because we are both beautiful, sexy, plus sized women. Never have it said that I tried to hide behind a skinny pic! *lol*
Reference the side pic and add 100 lbs! :)

A Sense of Entitlement

2006-11-11T16:56:00.000-05:00

About two weeks ago, President Bush spoke about limiting spending on government "entitlements" like Social Security and Medicare. I have some thoughts on that, but my mind began drifting to other "entitlements". Specifically, the overwhelming change in what children/teenagers today seem to think that they are "owed" or "entitled" to have.

I have no children, but I do speak from personal experience as I have nieces, nephews, godchildren and friends with children. I laugh with my 17 year old god daughter sometimes about how "old fashioned" she thinks I am. Well, if that's the worst term used to describe me, I'll take it. *lol*

A little about the way I grew up before we talk about the current generation of knuckleheads, oops, I mean teenagers. This is no critique of the parenting skills of anyone in particular, rather, just a commentary on my observations. I grew up as the only child to the best damn parents in the world. They were childhood friends who grew up around the corner from each other and eventually married. My two families are really like one big family (see previous sentence: they grew up around the corner from each other *lol*). I'm the youngest grandchild by 13 years and the only female grandchild on one side AND I'm the oldest grandchild by 2 years on the other side. So, boys and girls, what does that say to you? Yep, ya girl was spoiled. But, in my defense, I was a wonderful kid and I deserved it. :) But, even I think there is a fine line between being spoiled and expecting everything to be handed to you on a silver platter.

Anyway, my childhood memories are varied and plentiful. My life had lots of structure and the most important thing that my parents instilled was that, "Education is essential. School is important, but there are life lessons to understand also." With that as out motto, the following were part of my life:

Weekly chores like cleaning my room (ugh!), setting the table and feeding the dog.
Weekly allowance based on the completion of those chores
Family dinner, at the table, EVERY NIGHT
Family game night, at least ONCE A WEEK
Homework immediately after school
Two hours of television per week. This was good, wholesome tv only. Shows like Our House, Little House on the Prairie, and of course, The Cosby Show.

In talking to friends and family recently, everyone stares in open mouth shock at the last household rule. I accepted it for what it was and I never wished for more because tv was secondary, or even tertiary to family and learning. So, the things that I learned growing up still mean an awful lot to me. Their teachings and the things we shared were primary to everything else. I learned that time had a value, that tv was "mindless entertainment", and that I had to work for the things I wanted.

Anyway, back to my god daughter, let's call her Teen. Teen is complaining because she has run out of minutes for her cell phone. What da hell? It's only the 10th of the Month and you've already used 250 minutes? Who in da hell are you talking to? That was the first question that came to mind, but I as I thought more about it, all I could do was compare it to the way I grew up.

I was only allowed to call family until I was 10
Always had to use the kitchen phone (so as not to get too comfortable)
Finally got an extension in my room at 15 (HALLELUJAH!)
No calls after 9pm or my father would embarrass the hell out of me
Got my own phone number the summer after my first year in college, because I was old enough to have "private" conversations and pay my own bill
Got my first cell phone at 24
Still use less than 500 minutes a month

She laughs when I tell her these things and says, "Well, times were different then. My moms had to get me a cell phone. Everyone has cell phones nowadays. She knows wassup. I need my phone. It's like a hugh school requirement." Huh? So, somewhere along the way, food, clothing, shelter and support weren't enough? Cells phones were added to the "Needs" list? Did I miss that memo?

Teen actually had the nerve to be mad at her mother for not buying her more minutes until December 1. She threw a fit and has refused to speak to her mother. She asked me to buy them and couldn't understand why I wouldn't. I suppose to make the godmother waters smooth, I should have given in, but I have an objection to the demands of this generation. They seem to want and expect more and more to be handed to them without working for or earning it. Yes, Teen gets straight A's, but that's why she gets a better than average allowance, access to the family wagon (only has to gas it) and a new IPOD for making Dean's list for 6 consecutive quarters.

It seems that kids are feeling that if it exists, then it should be given to them. What do ya'll think? What changed? Is it the parents? Is the music, the media, etc? I think the basics should still apply and be taugh - rules are in place for a reason, work hard and your work will pay off. As a child, I expected that my parents would give me some (ok, most) of the things that I asked for, usually on my birthday and at Christmas time. Other "rewards" were in place when I achieved something. Sold the most Girl Scout Cookies - the new Kool Moe Dee tape. Performed in a piano recital and took 2nd place - a new Cabbage Patch Doll. A tantrum and a breakdown because I was in the store and wanted a new Polly Pocket doll - a new ass whoopin! Maybe I'm wrong, but that sense of entitlement makes my blood boil.

What's done in the dark...

2006-11-09T09:21:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with my grandmother, who I've nicknamed LouLou, yesterday morning. A little about LouLou - she's 80, moved from South Carolina to New York when she was 17, is the oldest of 9, and the matriarch of my family. Nothing goes down without her having a hand in it or an opinion on it. Our convo went a little something like this:

Me: Hey LouLou.
LouLou: Hey baby.
Me: Why do you sound so tired?
LouLou: I stayed up all night.

*shaking my head because she's normally in the bed by 8:30pm*
Me: All night? Why were you up all night? What's wrong?
LouLou: I had too. I was watching the CNN channel and listening for 'dem election numbers.
Me: Lou, but why did you need to stay up all night?
LouLou: Well, I stays up all night for every election now. You remember what happened the last time I went to sleep. I laid down and felt good that the Gore man was gonna be the president and woke up to dem saying it was Bush. So, I stay up now and watch the CNN to make sure they ain't doing nothing funny.

All I could do was shake my head and laugh. I laughed because her interpretation of shady politics was funny to me. I shook my head because at times, like in the aftermath of the 2000 election, the state of politics in the U.S. is sad. I remember waking up the morning after the election and hearing that contrary to earlier reports, George W. Bush had actually won Florida and was now the President Elect. I was shocked, horrified and disgusted all in one moment. I was 24 at the time and my trust in the political system was irrevocably shattered. I'm going to become more politically active. Yeah, I voted, but there's more to be done. It's time for me to put up or shut up. Long live democracy!!

Then and Now Meme

2006-11-08T17:36:00.000-05:00

In an effort to get my creative juices flowing and let ya'll get to know me a little better, I snagged this off the site of some fellow bloggers:

Then aka 1996 AND Now aka 2006

1) How old were you?

THEN: 20

NOW: 30

2) Where did you work?

THEN: As a student, at a big university in Virginia *lol*

NOW: For a federal agency

3) Where did you live?

THEN: Medium town, Virginia

NOW: Northeast Washington, DC

4) How was your hairstyle?

THEN: My hair was just past my shoulders and being the typical college girl, I usually rocked a ponytail

NOW: Cut it recently and it's a little longer than Halle Berry

5) Did you wear contacts?

THEN: Nope

NOW: Nope

6) Did you wear glasses?

THEN: I owned some, but I could never find 'em to wear 'em

NOW: Yep, still need 'em for driving

7) Who was your crush?

THEN: My then boyfriend (current hubby)

NOW: Gotta tell ya, I'm still crushing on my hubby. He shows me something a little different each day.

8) Which of your pets were still alive?

THEN: No pets.

NOW: Uh, nah. I don't do pets. I like dogs and will kick it with other people's dogs, but no pets for me

9) Who was your boyfriend/girlfriend?

THEN: MJ

NOW: that same dude, MJ

10) Who was your celebrity crush?

THEN: I can't remember.

NOW: No real celeb crush, but I'd love to meet Prince and Denzel

11) How many piercings did you have?

THEN: 3

NOW: 3

12) How many tattoos did you have?

THEN: None.

NOW: Still none. Doesn't appeal to me

13) What was your favorite band/singer?

THEN: Wow, it would have to be the Fugees. "The Score" came out in February of 1996 and every party that spring was rockin' Ready or Not and Fu-Gee-La. Damn I miss them. GET IT TOGETHER LAURYN!! WE MISS YOU!

NOW: I've always loved Ms. Mary J, but lately, I'm reintroducing myself to all her albums and LOVING HER EVEN MORE.

14) Had you smoked a cigarette?

THEN: As my girl Whitney would say, "H*ll to the Naw!" My asthmatic *ss would be laid up in the hospital somewhere

NOW: Same as above

15) Had you gotten drunk?

THEN: Uh, yeah, I was in college *lol*. With lots of white folks!

NOW: I may sip a drink if out with my girlfriends, but I haven't been drunk in about 8 years

16) What kind of car did you drive?

THEN: *lmao* a navy blue, Suzuki station wagon that sounded like a big #ss lawn mower coming down the street

NOW: a VW Passat

17) Looking back, are you where you thought you would be in 2006?

Sort of.

I thought I'd be married to MJ - CHECK! Thought I'd have a child - UNCHECK!Thought I'd make more money - UNCHECK! Thought I'd have finished writing my first book - UNCHECK! So, my focus is to keep my marraige strong, keep pressing on in my career, have a baby and finish my book. :)

It's a little scary here in the Blog World!

2006-11-07T20:42:00.000-05:00

Hey all!

Well, I've been debating starting a blog for the last 3 to 4 months. I've been reading so many blogs, sometimes I can't keep everyone straight. *lol* Over the last 2 months, I've started to comment on the sites of my favorite bloggers. All the while, building up my nerve to start my own blog. So, without any fanfare, here I am!

I have to admit - being here in Blog Land is a bit unnerving. I've decided to just journal my thoughts and random moments from my life. So, welcome to my little corner of the Blog World. Maybe you'll visit again and share some conversation.

TDJ