I will be so happy if I don't see Beyonce for a year. I've had enough of her, enough! Sure, she looked cute and sure she can sing, but did she need to sing all those songs? Even, the Josh Grobin song...with him? Is it just me, but why, why, why?
The only great thing about last night's Oscars was it was the first time I have seen an awards show drunk. I highly recommend it. I was a drunky monkey. I spent half the day still married to my big boss' bracket, so I had nothing in my stomach when I went over to Kellie's place. It was my first Oscar party. She had such a nice spread out: cheeses, yummy shrimp with bacon wrapped around them, dips, chips, and alcohol. My first mistake was going straight for the red wine. Then the Chardonnay. Then the red wine, again. Then some Kir Royales. Finally, champagne. My night ended with a drunk dial to my mommy. OY! Let me say this: I spent the entire night with homosexuals of all sorts: Gay, Lesbian, and Bi---oh my! I was the only straight person at the party. Most of the discussions were centered around, you know, fabulous gowns, hot men, and the "L-Word"; which I so happened to catch last week's premiere and it was my first time seeing it. I had plenty to add to the conversation and was so happy to do so, but it didn't end there. I don't know why I thought that my mother would be one bit interested in a drama surrounding lesbians, but I went on yakking about it. No detail was spared. Do you know what I mean?
Well, it led to a very interesting (sober) conversation this morning; my mom asked me if there was anything that I may be hiding* and needed to share...
*For the record--I am VERY straight.
Monday, February 28
Thursday, February 24
Bigger is More Stress, not Better
My head is about to explode! I have been to Kinko's four times today and am sure to go back for more. Why, you ask?
Oh ho ho, let me tell you: Because my big boss asked me to make a 3' by 7' size March Madness bracket. Uh huh.
Three feet by seven feet. I had no choice but to say yes, because he is the big boss. At first, I didn't put my college degree to use and found posterboard that big and hand drew a bracket. Then he says that he wants it bigger, uhm hmm, bigger than 3' by 7'; so I trot to the store again and buy bigger. Halfway through that one; he decides that he wants some logos on it and laminated. Oy!
Then like a lightening bolt: I thought of Kinko's, my then Savior. Little did I know only idiots work at the Kinko's across the street from our offices. Not one person in that store could understand the Excel 'bracket' I took 2 hours making for them. There was no need for questions; all they needed to do was blow it up and laminate. Copy #1: They did it in black and white. Copy #2: They left off the logos. Copy #3 made it back to the office, but the big boss wanted bigger logos. Copy #4, finished, laminated and at my desk waiting approval...
I forgot to mention that each trip to the Kinko's is a 20 minute trip one way to go across the highway today because some trucker jack knifed his oil rig allover the highway causing road closures and back ups EVERYWHERE. Let's mention I can see the Kinko's out my window and could run across the highway to get there quicker than getting in my car, but my outfit is way too cute for that today.
Oh ho ho, let me tell you: Because my big boss asked me to make a 3' by 7' size March Madness bracket. Uh huh.
Three feet by seven feet. I had no choice but to say yes, because he is the big boss. At first, I didn't put my college degree to use and found posterboard that big and hand drew a bracket. Then he says that he wants it bigger, uhm hmm, bigger than 3' by 7'; so I trot to the store again and buy bigger. Halfway through that one; he decides that he wants some logos on it and laminated. Oy!
Then like a lightening bolt: I thought of Kinko's, my then Savior. Little did I know only idiots work at the Kinko's across the street from our offices. Not one person in that store could understand the Excel 'bracket' I took 2 hours making for them. There was no need for questions; all they needed to do was blow it up and laminate. Copy #1: They did it in black and white. Copy #2: They left off the logos. Copy #3 made it back to the office, but the big boss wanted bigger logos. Copy #4, finished, laminated and at my desk waiting approval...
I forgot to mention that each trip to the Kinko's is a 20 minute trip one way to go across the highway today because some trucker jack knifed his oil rig allover the highway causing road closures and back ups EVERYWHERE. Let's mention I can see the Kinko's out my window and could run across the highway to get there quicker than getting in my car, but my outfit is way too cute for that today.
Wednesday, February 23
Update: Preggers
The co-worker I slyly predicted as pregnant came out the closet and she is! I don't know who she thought she was fooling because this is not the 'L-Word' over here and weight gainage is always noticed in this office.
Just call me the Oracle.
Just call me the Oracle.
Tuesday, February 22
They're Hypnotic
I started off this post and it was about my "my girls", then I thought while blogger spell checked and decided: Not! All the hits would be coming from men online looking for some 'entertainment' and we don't do that here. So, I will just say that everyone's attention is on the left one and I have no idea why. Everyone who has glanced down there today has focused in specifically to the left---hmmm...I checked and there is no spillage from lunch over there and there is definitely no cup runneth over action over the bra (can we discuss how embarrassing that is?)
...oh, but I am wearing a polka dotted shirt, maybe just maybe one dot is not so strategically placed, which may be a result of living in a man's world---uhm hmm. Must check this when I make a trip to the loo.
...oh, but I am wearing a polka dotted shirt, maybe just maybe one dot is not so strategically placed, which may be a result of living in a man's world---uhm hmm. Must check this when I make a trip to the loo.
Monday, February 21
Work Sucks
Especially when you are the only one in your department in the office, the sun is out with 62 degree weather in February, and the bank's are closed because it is a freaking Holiday!
Grrrr!
Grrrr!
Patience Worn Thin
After getting into the biggest fight during the course of our friendship, I managed, against all odds to get AP to her surprise birthday party---you bet your ass there were plenty of roadblocks on the way.
Surprise parties are really hard work. Maybe that's why I never have had one thrown for me, my friends typically are laid back and so am I--so that's why I never hosted one either. Now, after Friday night, I don't ever think I will. First off, AP was having one of those "I hate everything in my closet" moments. She was supposed to be ready at 7pm; so we would have enough time to eat dinner b/c the surprise. I got to her place at 7:30 (my bad) but it didn't matter because she was running around in her birthday suit, literally, screaming at her clothes, which were everywhere. We've all had those moments where emptying your closet is the only logical step in finding a perfect outfit, I couldn't blame her. It's part of our womanhood. But, then her supposed to be working late husband walked into the two girls who are supposed to be eating dinner fashion show. He gave me a look; I knew that I had a very serious job and needed to get this girl to dinner; plus I was starving. So, I did the bravest thing ever, I took apart my perfect outfit and literally gave her the shirt off my back. "Here! Wear this and shut up!" I screamed at her. AP was very lucky that I just so happened to be in Banana Republic before (causing me to be late because when you gotta shop, you gotta shop) and I had another brand new outfit in the car. I'm resourceful like that. She was good to go and we were in the car, which I would also like to call Hell on Wheels (HOW) for the remainder of the story. AP was insistent on going to Cuba Libre for her birthday dinner. Knowing it was a Friday night and that her party started in n hour, I knew there was no way that we could do that. I suggested (her original choice) Chuy's. Wrong. She looked at me and told me that wherever we go, there will be a wait. True...but it would be a lesser wait at Chuy's, let's just swing by and see-----Doubly wrong, AP went into this whole speech about how it's her birthday and she wants to eat at Cuba Libre and she is not going to Chuy's dressed up the way she is (this is where I could have added 'in my shirt!'). I held my ground and while texting her husband about her; she went on and on about how she's never eaten at Cuba Libre and she thought the whole point of us going to eat dinner for her birthday is to go somewhere she would like to go. The girl had a point but she also had a surprise party. After about the 5th text from her husband blaring my phone and me just idling the HOW outside Chuy's for 5 minutes; she got fiesty and mean. She called Cuba Libre and found it was a half hour wait for a table and that we could sit at the bar in that time...true, I bit my lip, if I heard Cuba Libre one more time out of her mouth I would have jumped out of HOW and left her, so I just blurted it out: WE HAVE A SURPRISE PARTY WAITING FOR YOU SO JUST SHUT THE F UP!
Surprise parties are really hard work. Maybe that's why I never have had one thrown for me, my friends typically are laid back and so am I--so that's why I never hosted one either. Now, after Friday night, I don't ever think I will. First off, AP was having one of those "I hate everything in my closet" moments. She was supposed to be ready at 7pm; so we would have enough time to eat dinner b/c the surprise. I got to her place at 7:30 (my bad) but it didn't matter because she was running around in her birthday suit, literally, screaming at her clothes, which were everywhere. We've all had those moments where emptying your closet is the only logical step in finding a perfect outfit, I couldn't blame her. It's part of our womanhood. But, then her supposed to be working late husband walked into the two girls who are supposed to be eating dinner fashion show. He gave me a look; I knew that I had a very serious job and needed to get this girl to dinner; plus I was starving. So, I did the bravest thing ever, I took apart my perfect outfit and literally gave her the shirt off my back. "Here! Wear this and shut up!" I screamed at her. AP was very lucky that I just so happened to be in Banana Republic before (causing me to be late because when you gotta shop, you gotta shop) and I had another brand new outfit in the car. I'm resourceful like that. She was good to go and we were in the car, which I would also like to call Hell on Wheels (HOW) for the remainder of the story. AP was insistent on going to Cuba Libre for her birthday dinner. Knowing it was a Friday night and that her party started in n hour, I knew there was no way that we could do that. I suggested (her original choice) Chuy's. Wrong. She looked at me and told me that wherever we go, there will be a wait. True...but it would be a lesser wait at Chuy's, let's just swing by and see-----Doubly wrong, AP went into this whole speech about how it's her birthday and she wants to eat at Cuba Libre and she is not going to Chuy's dressed up the way she is (this is where I could have added 'in my shirt!'). I held my ground and while texting her husband about her; she went on and on about how she's never eaten at Cuba Libre and she thought the whole point of us going to eat dinner for her birthday is to go somewhere she would like to go. The girl had a point but she also had a surprise party. After about the 5th text from her husband blaring my phone and me just idling the HOW outside Chuy's for 5 minutes; she got fiesty and mean. She called Cuba Libre and found it was a half hour wait for a table and that we could sit at the bar in that time...true, I bit my lip, if I heard Cuba Libre one more time out of her mouth I would have jumped out of HOW and left her, so I just blurted it out: WE HAVE A SURPRISE PARTY WAITING FOR YOU SO JUST SHUT THE F UP!
Friday, February 18
And So It Is
My good friend got me Damien Rice's CD "O" for my birthday back in December. When we went and saw "Closer" together I fell in love with the song; "The Blower's Daughter". As I usually do when I get a new CD, I only end up listening to the tracks that I knew prior to getting the CD, over and over like a broken record. I never took the time to listen to any other tracks, until recently...my whole world is changing because this is the best damn CD ever. Damien Rice's voice is spellbounding. Now, my two faves are: "Cannonball", "Cheers Darlin'" and "Blower's Daughter" runs in at third.
I've never been the one to try out new music (I'm a slave to hip hop and pop tunes); so thanks, AP, for the best gift that has kept on giving.
I've never been the one to try out new music (I'm a slave to hip hop and pop tunes); so thanks, AP, for the best gift that has kept on giving.
Thursday, February 17
We Have a Red Wine Stain and Some Broken Shards of Glass to Remember Her
Well Tim I couldn't say it better myself. I have friends where whenever we drink, they are bound to get out of control and be puking at the end of the night. I have some friends that get drunk and start rambling their theories on life. Some friends go all mute when they are drunk. Then, there is the friend that I am sure we have come across: the drunken idiot that you always end up babysitting. I have a couple of those. Sadly, they like to act like we are still twenty-one and that alcohol is the cool party that never ends. I'm not a party pooper and I have been known to get my drink on occasionally. Occasionally being the key word here. I'm talking about those people that whenever they are in a situation where alcohol is--they don't know when to stop. They keep on going. Don't get me started on when we are at an event and it's an open bar situation or when they know they are not the ones footing the bill. It's like a race for them, let's see how quickly I can get to praying to the porcelain God. You know who they are. Why can't we just act like adults and enjoy the scenery, let me tell you if you were not so busy doing ten shots in a row, you'd notice all the good looking men that you always complain you can never find. Uhm hmm. You know who you are. In about an hour after we get to the festivities, I am holding your hair back while you puke and it is so not close to your birthday. I don't mind when it's once in a blue moon, but every time we go out? Come on! Then there is the spillage. I am so anal that you will never find those friends of mine drinking at my apartment. No way, Jose. I'm constantly following them around, like they are toddlers with my hand cupping underneath their glass. If it's liquid and it's not the first drink, you better believe it will hit my carpet. Oops!
Vanessa, don't feel so badly because I know plenty like you and they also cannot sew.
Vanessa, don't feel so badly because I know plenty like you and they also cannot sew.
Wednesday, February 16
How to Get a Range Rover
Oh gee, I need to write MTV a strongly worded letter about "My Super Sweet 16"--this show has passed all reality.
This is how I learned how to get a brand new Range Rover:
Last night, I witnessed Ava's Sweet 16. She comes from a divorced family and from what I could tell she is the only child. Her mom is Muslim and her dad is Jewish--which meant that she gets to be carried Arabian style by 4 college Polo team boys. Let's discuss this. Ava, mom, and dad sat at a table like they were judges on 'American Idol', while her two party planners (remember this is a Sweet 16 party) brought in about ten college boys. They were all on the Polo team. Yippee! They each took their shirt off for Ava, her mom, and her dad. Yowsa. What cracks me up, is that they all sat there like this was normal; even the dad. I never got the pleasure to see a fully clothed Polo team member when I was in college. This charade was just the tip of the iceberg of what's to come in this show.
Ava and her mom then take a trip to Paris because Paris is the only place where you can find an original party dress. Duh. Ava tries on every hoochie mama designer couture dress and finally her mom ixnays the JLo wannabe dress and tells her it's inappropriate for a 16 year old to wear, but judging half nude college boys was perfectly okay. Then back stateside, Ava sneaks out of the house to go to Santa Barbara on her own. Oh, but I am jumping ahead and forgot to mention the car shopping trip, get ready to roll your eyes and please remember we are discussing a 16 year old girl. Daddy takes her to the dealership and in a voice over, Ava tells us that money is no object (really? I didn't get that from the trip to Paree) and she sits in every Mercedes on the lot; but they are way too small for her, so she ventures out to the lot, where, (GASP) someone traded in a Range Rover, she goes buck wild crazy and screams to Daddy Warbucks that she has to have a Range Rover. Daddy tells her it's way too big; but that matters none because she finds out it is used and only brand new $50,000 cars will do for this 16 year old.
Then comes the funniest part of the show: Mama and Daddy Warbucks are pissed off that Ava went to Santa Barbara alone but they still take her out to dinner. Ava tells the camera that if she does not get a Range Rover she will never speak to her parents again (ha ha, how many times I have said that, it never worked) and they go eat at Dolce, where they break the (faux) news that she is not getting a car. Ava loses it and cries and cries and cries that they have killed her birthday.
OH MY GAWD--Jokes on us because when we come back from a commercial break--Ava gets a brand new white Rover with a red bow (just as she requested). They all live happily ever after.
MTV really aired this shit.
I have come to the conclusion that this is reason number one not to marry a millionaire because then children like Ava are spawned.
This is how I learned how to get a brand new Range Rover:
Last night, I witnessed Ava's Sweet 16. She comes from a divorced family and from what I could tell she is the only child. Her mom is Muslim and her dad is Jewish--which meant that she gets to be carried Arabian style by 4 college Polo team boys. Let's discuss this. Ava, mom, and dad sat at a table like they were judges on 'American Idol', while her two party planners (remember this is a Sweet 16 party) brought in about ten college boys. They were all on the Polo team. Yippee! They each took their shirt off for Ava, her mom, and her dad. Yowsa. What cracks me up, is that they all sat there like this was normal; even the dad. I never got the pleasure to see a fully clothed Polo team member when I was in college. This charade was just the tip of the iceberg of what's to come in this show.
Ava and her mom then take a trip to Paris because Paris is the only place where you can find an original party dress. Duh. Ava tries on every hoochie mama designer couture dress and finally her mom ixnays the JLo wannabe dress and tells her it's inappropriate for a 16 year old to wear, but judging half nude college boys was perfectly okay. Then back stateside, Ava sneaks out of the house to go to Santa Barbara on her own. Oh, but I am jumping ahead and forgot to mention the car shopping trip, get ready to roll your eyes and please remember we are discussing a 16 year old girl. Daddy takes her to the dealership and in a voice over, Ava tells us that money is no object (really? I didn't get that from the trip to Paree) and she sits in every Mercedes on the lot; but they are way too small for her, so she ventures out to the lot, where, (GASP) someone traded in a Range Rover, she goes buck wild crazy and screams to Daddy Warbucks that she has to have a Range Rover. Daddy tells her it's way too big; but that matters none because she finds out it is used and only brand new $50,000 cars will do for this 16 year old.
Then comes the funniest part of the show: Mama and Daddy Warbucks are pissed off that Ava went to Santa Barbara alone but they still take her out to dinner. Ava tells the camera that if she does not get a Range Rover she will never speak to her parents again (ha ha, how many times I have said that, it never worked) and they go eat at Dolce, where they break the (faux) news that she is not getting a car. Ava loses it and cries and cries and cries that they have killed her birthday.
OH MY GAWD--Jokes on us because when we come back from a commercial break--Ava gets a brand new white Rover with a red bow (just as she requested). They all live happily ever after.
MTV really aired this shit.
I have come to the conclusion that this is reason number one not to marry a millionaire because then children like Ava are spawned.
Domestic Goddess
In true Catholic form, we tried to redeem ourselves of the juicy burgers we ate last Friday like pigs.
That's what's best about being Catholic; you can sin, admit it, redeem yourself, and it's all good.
Well, I made fish-n-chips last night. It was a lot easier than I thought, thanks to Gorton's Lemon battered fish fillets and much tastier than I remembered from when my family and I lived in England.
After that, I did a load of laundry and that's when I found a 'special' magazine that belongs to my boyfriend. Do you know what I mean by 'special'? He totally does not know that I know because I had to unzip a special pocket in his suitcase while I was snooping to find it. Yeah, I snooped, I don't usually but you see, his dirty laundry was in his suitcase so I had to go in anyways and the zipped pocket was just screaming my name. I swear. Is it sad that it calms me that the magazine was, how do I say: a 'special' magazine geared towards men who like women of color, specifically Black women? If it were some just random trashy entertainment with Jenna Jameson, I would have been upset. I'm Black, the women in the magazine are Black--I made a connection and am okay with it. Does that make me porn-prejudiced? In some sick way, I am rationalizing it to mean that while he was on his business trip; he needed something that reminded him of me. OR could it be worse and he has a thing for Black girls and I am his real life fantasy and therefore just a phase? EEK. OK I am definitely thinking too much about it...
Then we saw "Hitch" which was surprisingly good, all because of my man Kevin James and not Will Smith. How many times can I make that point? There is stuff in the film for men and stuff for the ladies, it's the perfect all gender date film.
That's what's best about being Catholic; you can sin, admit it, redeem yourself, and it's all good.
Well, I made fish-n-chips last night. It was a lot easier than I thought, thanks to Gorton's Lemon battered fish fillets and much tastier than I remembered from when my family and I lived in England.
After that, I did a load of laundry and that's when I found a 'special' magazine that belongs to my boyfriend. Do you know what I mean by 'special'? He totally does not know that I know because I had to unzip a special pocket in his suitcase while I was snooping to find it. Yeah, I snooped, I don't usually but you see, his dirty laundry was in his suitcase so I had to go in anyways and the zipped pocket was just screaming my name. I swear. Is it sad that it calms me that the magazine was, how do I say: a 'special' magazine geared towards men who like women of color, specifically Black women? If it were some just random trashy entertainment with Jenna Jameson, I would have been upset. I'm Black, the women in the magazine are Black--I made a connection and am okay with it. Does that make me porn-prejudiced? In some sick way, I am rationalizing it to mean that while he was on his business trip; he needed something that reminded him of me. OR could it be worse and he has a thing for Black girls and I am his real life fantasy and therefore just a phase? EEK. OK I am definitely thinking too much about it...
Then we saw "Hitch" which was surprisingly good, all because of my man Kevin James and not Will Smith. How many times can I make that point? There is stuff in the film for men and stuff for the ladies, it's the perfect all gender date film.
Tuesday, February 15
A Good Cause
Ooh, I likey! GAP, SJP--you have redeemed yourselves, for now. Check this out.
Now, can you please put the new Spring wear that SJP is wearing in all the magazines on the shelf? I need that cap sleeve shirt, like you would not believe.
Thank you.
Now, can you please put the new Spring wear that SJP is wearing in all the magazines on the shelf? I need that cap sleeve shirt, like you would not believe.
Thank you.
Romance Rivalry
Valentine's came and went: Thank goodness. The stressing is over. Not that I stressed, but the female co-workers did due to the fact that floral arrangements were being delivered every other hour to the office--causing much paranoia and angst. It's also amazing how a 'holiday' for romance turns women into competitive hyenas. Seriously. I know a woman who told her husband that she would like her roses to be delivered to the office because she does not want to be left out. Left out? Are you kidding me? Did I miss something? Isn't the day meant for you and him; not you, him, and our entire office. I could care less if you get a dozen or if your significant other just left you one rose on your car windshield. Be happy you are getting the damn suckers because they cost a lot and then they die. Thank goodness I am not a man because I would never pay any amount over $20 for something that would knowingly be dead in a week or was sitting on top of a cubicle as show and tell.
If the roses were made out of diamonds, go ahead, show them off, other than that, please don't call me by your desk to ogle them.
For those tuning in, I am not bitter, I had the best Valentine's Day, yet. I was a bit worried when Incredible called and told me to meet him out front and to be wearing jeans--yes, I was very worried. The night was grand and I am keeping it on the DL because it was that good. My co-workers are mad that I won't share; but it's my valentine's and yes, I didn't get roses delivered, I didn't go wait hours at a fancy restaurant, and no I didn't get engaged. I'm still a little lost how Valentine's Day= Engagement Day, hmmm...anyone out there get engaged?
It's so over and I am so happy. So, there!
If the roses were made out of diamonds, go ahead, show them off, other than that, please don't call me by your desk to ogle them.
For those tuning in, I am not bitter, I had the best Valentine's Day, yet. I was a bit worried when Incredible called and told me to meet him out front and to be wearing jeans--yes, I was very worried. The night was grand and I am keeping it on the DL because it was that good. My co-workers are mad that I won't share; but it's my valentine's and yes, I didn't get roses delivered, I didn't go wait hours at a fancy restaurant, and no I didn't get engaged. I'm still a little lost how Valentine's Day= Engagement Day, hmmm...anyone out there get engaged?
It's so over and I am so happy. So, there!
B-I-N-G-O
I have to hand it to those Drag Queens; they sure know how to make a fun game, fantabulous!
I heart Gay Bingo and am ready for next month. I have a very open mind, so men in drag, don't affect me.
Shirtless gay men, did have a small affect on me---I'm not gay but ladies those men know how to fully use those gym memberships.
The rules were simple: no straight lines, when O-69 was called, you had to get up and dance, and no false bingos. When the rules were broken, you had to go to Bingo Jail and be humiliated by the emcee. It was fun times, but most of the entertainment was not coming from the drag queens, but the serious senior citizen Bingo players.
This night was their Vegas. They were there to play and win, the Gays were just side items to them. One older lady, who looked my grandmother's age was a PRO. She bought $50 worth of Bingo game cards and had the half of the table to herself. I don't know how she kept up with twenty game cards per game because I could hardly keep track of my measly six. Grandma had it going on.
She gave us rude looks and shushed us when me and Kelli got 'out of control'. That means we said more than two sentences to each other and laughed out loud to the entertainment in front of us. Grandma--there are Drag Queens in the room, HELLO! I am sorry that I cannot control myself with raging flamboyant gay men, some of whom are half naked and look like they belong in a calendar.
Instead of working three different dabbers at once, she may have wanted to look up because they were explaining sex to a straight couple and I nearly pee'd my pants.
I heart Gay Bingo and am ready for next month. I have a very open mind, so men in drag, don't affect me.
Shirtless gay men, did have a small affect on me---I'm not gay but ladies those men know how to fully use those gym memberships.
The rules were simple: no straight lines, when O-69 was called, you had to get up and dance, and no false bingos. When the rules were broken, you had to go to Bingo Jail and be humiliated by the emcee. It was fun times, but most of the entertainment was not coming from the drag queens, but the serious senior citizen Bingo players.
This night was their Vegas. They were there to play and win, the Gays were just side items to them. One older lady, who looked my grandmother's age was a PRO. She bought $50 worth of Bingo game cards and had the half of the table to herself. I don't know how she kept up with twenty game cards per game because I could hardly keep track of my measly six. Grandma had it going on.
She gave us rude looks and shushed us when me and Kelli got 'out of control'. That means we said more than two sentences to each other and laughed out loud to the entertainment in front of us. Grandma--there are Drag Queens in the room, HELLO! I am sorry that I cannot control myself with raging flamboyant gay men, some of whom are half naked and look like they belong in a calendar.
Instead of working three different dabbers at once, she may have wanted to look up because they were explaining sex to a straight couple and I nearly pee'd my pants.
Friday, February 11
No, Thanks.
Since I was called out (Thanks, Erica) I'll let my secret out: I'm not too fond of sex.
You know what, you don't even need to read the rest of this, you can just add your comment now, go ahead and while you are at it, close your mouth because that is just the tip of this iceberg. It's not like something really bad and horrifying happened to me in my past, let's just get that out of the way.
When it comes to sex, I'd just rather not. That does not make me a prude, you know me and you know that ain't me. It doesn't mean that my current beau has no skills. That also does not mean that I do not have sex with my boyfriend.
It means I'd rather do other stuff. Oh, gee, warning to all future suitors: Don't get with me, because you won't be getting any 24/7. I'd rather sleep, eat, kiss, and hug.
I may be wrong but I think that Incredible is getting a pretty darn good deal because when I am in the mood, guess what, it's that much more better because let's face it between my crazy periods and me rather wanting to knit than get naked, I'll give it and give it good (once in a blue moon). I am his girlfriend and I think that goes under the job duties. Believe me, this is a tough one to keep from him because of course he has no clue about this (it would break him I am sure). I have to work that much harder to come up with excuses because "I have a headache" really does not cut it anymore.
I'm not mean, if he is really genuinely excited and it's not just the daily morning wood talking (that's when I'd rather sleep); I'll cave in. Let's not forget we are talking about my boyfriend, who sets his alarm to wake him an hour earlier for sex. I'll do the math, that means he wakes me up at 5:30 AM to do the deed---No, thank you.
Then there is the whole me being that lazy: taking clothes off and making sure he is 'happy' and then doing it all over again right after. I'd just rather not.
I hope someone out there agrees with me; ooh this could be a time to take AP down with me because she is in the same boat. One night when we were not discussing cramps, we fell into this discussion and she was shocked because she thought that I was some sexual maniac. Ha ha, me, really? Do I give off that impression? She then confessed that she felt the same way.
Hallelujah!
For all you pervs, this does not mean that I am on my knees all the time because even with that; I'd rather eat. FOOD, people, food!
You know what, you don't even need to read the rest of this, you can just add your comment now, go ahead and while you are at it, close your mouth because that is just the tip of this iceberg. It's not like something really bad and horrifying happened to me in my past, let's just get that out of the way.
When it comes to sex, I'd just rather not. That does not make me a prude, you know me and you know that ain't me. It doesn't mean that my current beau has no skills. That also does not mean that I do not have sex with my boyfriend.
It means I'd rather do other stuff. Oh, gee, warning to all future suitors: Don't get with me, because you won't be getting any 24/7. I'd rather sleep, eat, kiss, and hug.
I may be wrong but I think that Incredible is getting a pretty darn good deal because when I am in the mood, guess what, it's that much more better because let's face it between my crazy periods and me rather wanting to knit than get naked, I'll give it and give it good (once in a blue moon). I am his girlfriend and I think that goes under the job duties. Believe me, this is a tough one to keep from him because of course he has no clue about this (it would break him I am sure). I have to work that much harder to come up with excuses because "I have a headache" really does not cut it anymore.
I'm not mean, if he is really genuinely excited and it's not just the daily morning wood talking (that's when I'd rather sleep); I'll cave in. Let's not forget we are talking about my boyfriend, who sets his alarm to wake him an hour earlier for sex. I'll do the math, that means he wakes me up at 5:30 AM to do the deed---No, thank you.
Then there is the whole me being that lazy: taking clothes off and making sure he is 'happy' and then doing it all over again right after. I'd just rather not.
I hope someone out there agrees with me; ooh this could be a time to take AP down with me because she is in the same boat. One night when we were not discussing cramps, we fell into this discussion and she was shocked because she thought that I was some sexual maniac. Ha ha, me, really? Do I give off that impression? She then confessed that she felt the same way.
Hallelujah!
For all you pervs, this does not mean that I am on my knees all the time because even with that; I'd rather eat. FOOD, people, food!
Update: My Boyfriend's Back
My good friend just emailed me to call me out on the previous post because I don't really care for sex.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!
It's true, I'm working on that post to explain further.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!
It's true, I'm working on that post to explain further.
My Boyfriend's Back
Not to disparage anyone with a long distance relationship or anything but it has been way too long. You know what I mean? Two and a half weeks too long to be exact. The first week my mom was in town. Then he went out of town. Then we went out of town, with us we took my monthly friend. Then he went out of town, again. I love when he goes out of town because absence definitely makes the heart fonder, may I add, more appreciative. At least on my part it does, I cannot speak for him. That monthly friend ruined our flow and I have Aerin and AP to blame.
Here's the deal, women who spend a lot of time together get synched up. I was happy with my synching buddies: my female co-workers. We had a good deal going on and perfect dates for our female adventures; the 20th or so of each month. I was happy. If I ever left some tools at home or ran out, I could depend on them for a loaner. Eww, not a loaner but a gift and vice versa. I knew when they were all PMSing and when to back off. We'd all joke about it. Those were good times. Awww, let me enjoy the memory because then Aerin happened.
I cannot explain this phenomena that happens to me. If anyone complains about a zit or an itch or some bodily function to me--POOF--that same illness is bound to happen to me. It's weird. In December, days prior to my birthday Aerin decided she would complain about her cramps to me. You can imagine how much fun I had the night of my birthday. You know what I mean because we are discussing periods here. Let's also mention that I just had that friendly visit two weeks prior, so I was mad. Then a few weeks later, the two of them, Aerin and AP, came over and were discussing how they were all synched up, bad cramps, and tampons. Just great, it was time for me to say goodbye to the female co-workers' club and hello to these two. Then since I spend most of my time at the office and my free time with the those two, my monthly friend honors me with surprise parties and decided not to be shown up by Incredible's surprise and crashed in on the fun.
The point is it's been too long because I get synched up to every female that comes into my space and things are looking up for Incredible's return this weekend.
Let's just hope that the Drag Queens at Gay bingo this Saturday have no effect on me.
Speaking of periods, the other Erin sent me this: http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200502/s1300583.htm
Here's the deal, women who spend a lot of time together get synched up. I was happy with my synching buddies: my female co-workers. We had a good deal going on and perfect dates for our female adventures; the 20th or so of each month. I was happy. If I ever left some tools at home or ran out, I could depend on them for a loaner. Eww, not a loaner but a gift and vice versa. I knew when they were all PMSing and when to back off. We'd all joke about it. Those were good times. Awww, let me enjoy the memory because then Aerin happened.
I cannot explain this phenomena that happens to me. If anyone complains about a zit or an itch or some bodily function to me--POOF--that same illness is bound to happen to me. It's weird. In December, days prior to my birthday Aerin decided she would complain about her cramps to me. You can imagine how much fun I had the night of my birthday. You know what I mean because we are discussing periods here. Let's also mention that I just had that friendly visit two weeks prior, so I was mad. Then a few weeks later, the two of them, Aerin and AP, came over and were discussing how they were all synched up, bad cramps, and tampons. Just great, it was time for me to say goodbye to the female co-workers' club and hello to these two. Then since I spend most of my time at the office and my free time with the those two, my monthly friend honors me with surprise parties and decided not to be shown up by Incredible's surprise and crashed in on the fun.
The point is it's been too long because I get synched up to every female that comes into my space and things are looking up for Incredible's return this weekend.
Let's just hope that the Drag Queens at Gay bingo this Saturday have no effect on me.
Speaking of periods, the other Erin sent me this: http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200502/s1300583.htm
I So Didn't Care
Just when I thought I could care less, the NY Post reels me back in. To think that I was more concerned about Jennifer. Who could she possibly date that will measure up to Brad? Ha ha, the joke is on me because that whore* just one upped it by hooking up with Vince...noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Anyone but him. Please let it not be true.
*yeah, I said it.
Anyone but him. Please let it not be true.
*yeah, I said it.
Thursday, February 10
PENIS
When I was a freshman in high school, the cool thing to do in the crowded cafeteria was to see who could yell out "penis" the loudest.
I always won. Imagine that. A lot of my friends thought it was funny to see who could write penis the biggest in my yearbook. That was 1993.
The summer of 1995; my mom found that yearbook, practically fainted, then showed my dad, I then had a "talk" where I learned I should be shamed and that is not proper behavior for a young lady.
Little did we know, my improper behavior has gotten a lot worse since then and to this day I still snicker when I hear the word penis.
Enjoy, this penis story, which had me spitting out lemonade, from Crazy Us.
4.5 hours until Ed Burns burns me with his hotness
I always won. Imagine that. A lot of my friends thought it was funny to see who could write penis the biggest in my yearbook. That was 1993.
The summer of 1995; my mom found that yearbook, practically fainted, then showed my dad, I then had a "talk" where I learned I should be shamed and that is not proper behavior for a young lady.
Little did we know, my improper behavior has gotten a lot worse since then and to this day I still snicker when I hear the word penis.
Enjoy, this penis story, which had me spitting out lemonade, from Crazy Us.
4.5 hours until Ed Burns burns me with his hotness
I wasn't even drunk
Oh dear, this morning I woke up to find my hand clasping my cell phone like a teddy bear. I quickly scanned my mind and knew for sure I didn't sober-dial anyone the night before, but did I?
I looked at the call log and Incredible called me at 1:00 AM (let's not discuss how that is so 2 AM where he was; uhm hmm. We won't go there, just yet.) and the call lasted 22 minutes. I have no recollection of speaking to him at all.
Then, I had 1 un-read text message from him, that read: Me, too.
What the hell did I say?
I looked at the call log and Incredible called me at 1:00 AM (let's not discuss how that is so 2 AM where he was; uhm hmm. We won't go there, just yet.) and the call lasted 22 minutes. I have no recollection of speaking to him at all.
Then, I had 1 un-read text message from him, that read: Me, too.
What the hell did I say?
T-Minus
8 hours and counting.
Oh gosh, I am so counting down the hours until Ed Burns make his guest appearance on Will & Grace tonight. His hotness has not graced my television screen in so long.
Speaking of entertainment; is it just me or is Will Smith too old to be "Hitch"? and if not too old, isn't his time up? If I see this movie, know now that it was only to see Kevin James on a big screen because he, I could totally get into.
Yeah, you read right: Kevin James, King of Queens. He may be big (literally) but there is something about him that just makes him, oh so hot.
Speaking of hot; Topher Grace just made it to the top of my list. He's always been on the list, but yesterday he 'made' the top because I found out that he is dating this girl. She is the cutest of the cutes and I only wish there was more of her. She, in my opinion was the only reason "Mona Lisa Smile" was tolerable.
Oh gosh, I am so counting down the hours until Ed Burns make his guest appearance on Will & Grace tonight. His hotness has not graced my television screen in so long.
Speaking of entertainment; is it just me or is Will Smith too old to be "Hitch"? and if not too old, isn't his time up? If I see this movie, know now that it was only to see Kevin James on a big screen because he, I could totally get into.
Yeah, you read right: Kevin James, King of Queens. He may be big (literally) but there is something about him that just makes him, oh so hot.
Speaking of hot; Topher Grace just made it to the top of my list. He's always been on the list, but yesterday he 'made' the top because I found out that he is dating this girl. She is the cutest of the cutes and I only wish there was more of her. She, in my opinion was the only reason "Mona Lisa Smile" was tolerable.
Wednesday, February 9
If Your Status is 'Hood
I Blame Destiny's Child
Uhm hmm. There is a new Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market in my 'hood. This place is very different from any of the other Wal-Marts; aside from all the protesting that went on before it officially opened, this is just a grocery store. Yes, I, too was against them putting one in my 'hood just like the protestors. Once I went shopping there, it was a whole different ballgame. I assume that went the same for the protestors because they have seemed to disappeared. This place is so DIRT CHEAP, I have to put it in all CAPS. The same butter I get at Albertson's for $2.50 is $1.47 at Wal-Mart. Blue Bell pint ice cream is a dollar! One dollar. I loaded up.
But...since this is Wal-Mart; you know those cheap prices didn't come with a price to pay...
I live in a very upscale 'hood. I'm not being snotty, it's just the way it is. I like nice things and one of those things happens to be a nice 'hood--so I pay to live in a nice snotty neighborhood. I'm single, no children, so I can do that. One of the reasons we had protestors protesting the Wal-Mart is because they did not want the riff-raff that occupies the not-so-nice 'hood on the other side of the freeway to be on our side. You read that right. It's like it's 1970 and we live in West Side Story or something. I'm Black; so I was semi-down with that 'hood coming over to visit because these uptight peeps in my 'hood could do with coloring their world. I am not enough culturalization for them.
So, the Wal-Mart opens and brings in all sorts of culture and ahem, ghetto-ness--which I do, now have a problem.
I was at Wal-Mart, minding my own business when this thug-like man, pants hanging off his knees, comb in his nappy hair (I can say that) came up to me and my cart of food. He smiled, his "grill was gleaming" with the teeth he had left---like four.
"Was'sup, baby" He said. OH MY GOSH, Do we really approach people like this? I angled my cart away from him and muttered something. "Baby, can you handle this?" Yes, he did say that! Just for the record, I probably could HANDLE that, I choose not to, thank you.
I gave him a look of what the hell. "Don't play, you know you need this. You so proper, I can be your soldier" and he winked.
I gasped---oh...hell...no, he's trying to pick him up a BEYONCE!
I said; "No, thank you" and kept walking and as I was running away, I swear I heard him say that he carries big things, if you know what I mean.
If this is what comes along with Wal-Mart, take it back. I don't need your cheap butter that badly.
Uhm hmm. There is a new Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market in my 'hood. This place is very different from any of the other Wal-Marts; aside from all the protesting that went on before it officially opened, this is just a grocery store. Yes, I, too was against them putting one in my 'hood just like the protestors. Once I went shopping there, it was a whole different ballgame. I assume that went the same for the protestors because they have seemed to disappeared. This place is so DIRT CHEAP, I have to put it in all CAPS. The same butter I get at Albertson's for $2.50 is $1.47 at Wal-Mart. Blue Bell pint ice cream is a dollar! One dollar. I loaded up.
But...since this is Wal-Mart; you know those cheap prices didn't come with a price to pay...
I live in a very upscale 'hood. I'm not being snotty, it's just the way it is. I like nice things and one of those things happens to be a nice 'hood--so I pay to live in a nice snotty neighborhood. I'm single, no children, so I can do that. One of the reasons we had protestors protesting the Wal-Mart is because they did not want the riff-raff that occupies the not-so-nice 'hood on the other side of the freeway to be on our side. You read that right. It's like it's 1970 and we live in West Side Story or something. I'm Black; so I was semi-down with that 'hood coming over to visit because these uptight peeps in my 'hood could do with coloring their world. I am not enough culturalization for them.
So, the Wal-Mart opens and brings in all sorts of culture and ahem, ghetto-ness--which I do, now have a problem.
I was at Wal-Mart, minding my own business when this thug-like man, pants hanging off his knees, comb in his nappy hair (I can say that) came up to me and my cart of food. He smiled, his "grill was gleaming" with the teeth he had left---like four.
"Was'sup, baby" He said. OH MY GOSH, Do we really approach people like this? I angled my cart away from him and muttered something. "Baby, can you handle this?" Yes, he did say that! Just for the record, I probably could HANDLE that, I choose not to, thank you.
I gave him a look of what the hell. "Don't play, you know you need this. You so proper, I can be your soldier" and he winked.
I gasped---oh...hell...no, he's trying to pick him up a BEYONCE!
I said; "No, thank you" and kept walking and as I was running away, I swear I heard him say that he carries big things, if you know what I mean.
If this is what comes along with Wal-Mart, take it back. I don't need your cheap butter that badly.
Tuesday, February 8
He Ruined it for Everyone
Now a word for all future suitors (just in case I don't end up marrying the one I am with now):
I'm sorry but someone just ruined it for you. Now for any future relationship to work you must do two things:
1. Whisk me away on a surprise romantic weekend getaway
2. Write me adoring emails.
That's all, I hope it's not too much to ask. I apologize now because I know it will be so unfair that I will be comparing you to Incredible---which as of right now, it will be hard for anyone to top.
Sorry
I'm sorry but someone just ruined it for you. Now for any future relationship to work you must do two things:
1. Whisk me away on a surprise romantic weekend getaway
2. Write me adoring emails.
That's all, I hope it's not too much to ask. I apologize now because I know it will be so unfair that I will be comparing you to Incredible---which as of right now, it will be hard for anyone to top.
Sorry
Friday, February 4
She is Postal
Whoa, Wendy Pepper--thanks for bringing the drama once again to another episode of Project: Runway. We love it! Who drew that line on her daughter's picture? I want to know...now! Because in all honesty I was snickering the entire time, I know that's mean, right? does that make me a mean person? Oh, maybe I did it---ha ha ha. There was no need for her little temper tantrum, was there? Gee, whiz and yes all your designs are dowdy, deal with it. Tim says so, Michael Kors says so, Diana the Great Spaniard says so---red sneakers that you wore the day before are not going to help or hide the fact that you put pleats on the sides of shorts.
Kara Saun is on FIRE! She did have the cutest postal uniform designed---shoot, I'd be a letter carrier if I could wear a winter drab blue uniform and still look sexy to Michael Kors, word. Oh, how I love thee Project Runway and I hope that they keep the same formula when season two comes around and they don't jack it up with any surprises or twists because this one is perfect just the way it is
Auf Wiedersehen.
Kara Saun is on FIRE! She did have the cutest postal uniform designed---shoot, I'd be a letter carrier if I could wear a winter drab blue uniform and still look sexy to Michael Kors, word. Oh, how I love thee Project Runway and I hope that they keep the same formula when season two comes around and they don't jack it up with any surprises or twists because this one is perfect just the way it is
Auf Wiedersehen.
"It's like flames coming from my head"
I HATE Desperate Housewives! I cannot explain how much I hate that show and all the media buzz that comes along with it. I was hypnotized at the beginning of the season and believed all the hype when they (and I say 'they' meaning the media) penned it the new "Sex and the City"; I should have known better, but I fell for it. I fell even harder when everyone and their grandma's were watching, then even harder when everyone in our office Tivo'd it. So, I watched the first few episodes. Then it hit me, like a trunk full of a baby blanket: I hate this show! and I don't care who Dana is, really, I don't. It really hit me when I wasn't cracking up over the 'jokes'. I say jokes in quotes like that because seriously I never found it to be slap on the knee funny BUT my co-workers would come to work a full 12 hours later and would still be laughing their asses off from whatever Susan did the prior night to get Mike's attention. Hmmkay...let's see, she is a middle age divorcee, with a Gilmore Girls daughter relationship and she is competing with the neighborhood slut for the new guy on the block's attention--aha! I see the "Sex and the City" connection now---NOT! If I was any of the actresses on SATC, I would be outraged that they were even comparing this show to SATC. I'm outraged enough. The jokes are bland and mindless and the drama is draaaaaaaaaaaaaawn out. I think the show would be okay if they could just decide whether it is a comedy or a drama; it does nothing as both, to me.
For that opinion, every Monday like clockwork, someone in my office, "ew"'s me. No joke. I'll be minding my own business and a co-worker will come up and ask, "Did you watch Desperate Housewives last night?" all excitedly. I'll reply with, "no, I don't like that show" and each and every time, the response to that is: ew.
OK, what the fuck?
I don't like the show. Oh. Well. I am sure I am not the only person in America not watching.
As if that is not enough, now every time I turn on the TV, there it is: Desperate Housewives Mania! Since I was home sick this week, I got it in full effect: Teri Hatcher's ABC interview on Tony Danza; Teri Hatcher's interview on PrimeTime; Desperate Housewives on Good Morning America; on Oprah (twice!--2 days in a row); and so on.
Can it please end, already? I get it--we needed another show to be such a phenomena as "Sex and the City"--great job, Media Gods, you have succeeded that buzz and everyone watches the show but can we take it down a notch because Teri Hatcher is not all that!
Yep, I said it, sue me.
For that opinion, every Monday like clockwork, someone in my office, "ew"'s me. No joke. I'll be minding my own business and a co-worker will come up and ask, "Did you watch Desperate Housewives last night?" all excitedly. I'll reply with, "no, I don't like that show" and each and every time, the response to that is: ew.
OK, what the fuck?
I don't like the show. Oh. Well. I am sure I am not the only person in America not watching.
As if that is not enough, now every time I turn on the TV, there it is: Desperate Housewives Mania! Since I was home sick this week, I got it in full effect: Teri Hatcher's ABC interview on Tony Danza; Teri Hatcher's interview on PrimeTime; Desperate Housewives on Good Morning America; on Oprah (twice!--2 days in a row); and so on.
Can it please end, already? I get it--we needed another show to be such a phenomena as "Sex and the City"--great job, Media Gods, you have succeeded that buzz and everyone watches the show but can we take it down a notch because Teri Hatcher is not all that!
Yep, I said it, sue me.
Tuesday, February 1
Coughing on Death's Door
I am sick. I rarely get sick but when are wearing strappy shoes, a sleeveless dress and the only thing you have to cover yourself is a year 2000 pashmina and you are outside by a lake, that is what happens--you get sick.
Future Brides of America: I beg of you, if you must have an outdoor wedding, please let your guests know to dress for the weather OR have your wedding a warmer month!
That's all I ask. I know it's Texas and all, but we have been here long enough to know the weather is not predictable and changes all day long.
I have to admit I had fun stocking up on medicinal needs for my recovery at Walgreens. I got TheraFlu, Halls, Tylenol Cold/Flu, this month's Glamour, and a curse.
Uhm hmm, you read right. I now have a curse on me. As I was leaving the drug store, a bum (is that politically correct?) stopped me and asked for change. I hardly carry cash on me, let alone change and when I do, I am selfish and use it for the Tollway. Sad, but true. I told him no because in this particular instance, I really had no change on me. He then got down on his knee and started chanting...WTF? I tried to walk around him because I thought he was praying to God for money, a house, or a job. He followed me to my car. OK--this is Dallas and we are ranked one of the highest crime cities, so I am definitely scared.
"You are now cursed" He told me and looked me straight in the eyes, then screamed "Booyala"--or something to that effect. (no joke) As I scurried in my car and drove off he kept staring me down. Should I be worried? Tomorrow will I wake up homeless? No, right? or maybe I would just wake up sicker than I was yesterday. If anyone has any remedies for lifting curses, please put it in the box below---quickly.
Future Brides of America: I beg of you, if you must have an outdoor wedding, please let your guests know to dress for the weather OR have your wedding a warmer month!
That's all I ask. I know it's Texas and all, but we have been here long enough to know the weather is not predictable and changes all day long.
I have to admit I had fun stocking up on medicinal needs for my recovery at Walgreens. I got TheraFlu, Halls, Tylenol Cold/Flu, this month's Glamour, and a curse.
Uhm hmm, you read right. I now have a curse on me. As I was leaving the drug store, a bum (is that politically correct?) stopped me and asked for change. I hardly carry cash on me, let alone change and when I do, I am selfish and use it for the Tollway. Sad, but true. I told him no because in this particular instance, I really had no change on me. He then got down on his knee and started chanting...WTF? I tried to walk around him because I thought he was praying to God for money, a house, or a job. He followed me to my car. OK--this is Dallas and we are ranked one of the highest crime cities, so I am definitely scared.
"You are now cursed" He told me and looked me straight in the eyes, then screamed "Booyala"--or something to that effect. (no joke) As I scurried in my car and drove off he kept staring me down. Should I be worried? Tomorrow will I wake up homeless? No, right? or maybe I would just wake up sicker than I was yesterday. If anyone has any remedies for lifting curses, please put it in the box below---quickly.
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