Fa La La La La My Ass

This past weekend, I attended the beautiful, love-filled wedding of one of my favorite sorors who helped me on my journey towards the Sigma Light. She really is a special 6'1" Amazon Sista, and I'm so happy she found genuine love with her gentle yet hilarious chocolate giant. For her gifts (because I missed the bridal shower and just brought her gift to the reception), I took a little piece of myself and put it into each part of the gifts. She has one of those cool books where the man and woman tear out a mystery page with instructions for a sexy/romantic encounter. She'll love it. Plus, I got an appliance off her registry that I know I'd enjoy, too. I wrapped it in beautiful baby blue and chocolate paper, but I took it to another level when I learned how to tie a ribbon into a nice box for her gifts. It's pretty good for a first try, especially when I wanted her to detect the personalized effort I put into the gifts. Seriously, how many people really receive gifts with bows tied by hand? How many gift bags do you have in your gift closet??? I was so excited that I took pics. This new talent might not lead to a gig wrapping gifts at Macy's during the Christmas season, but it sincerely felt good to do something special for someone else that I think of as special.


I must be more in a gift mood considering that Halloween is long gone, (damn I miss it). Thanksgiving is approaching, and laughter and good food with the family is being anticipated. So, here comes Christmas. On the real, the commercialization of the holiday has gotten on my last good nerves, so I cringe and make faces when I see all of the decorations, gift wrap, and God awful reindeer and sleigh earrings. I still appreciate the reason for Christmas, so I'll always celebrate the birth of Christ, but everything else surrounding Christmas on a retail level has just disturbed me.

But in the good ol' gift giving spirit (and therefore giving of myself which I can enjoy year round), I've decided to participate in a family gift exchange. This part of the family is kind of large and fruitful, so shopping for all of the adults, the kids who have grown up (my group), the kids who are still under 18, and the new kids of the grown kids gets expensive. That's why the adults and grown kids can choose to participate in the gift exchange. One of my aunts used to facilitate the whole gift exchange. She facilitates a lot of stuff, so I think she's completely over this gift exchange. Somewhere between last year and this year, she passed the task on to someone else. How gracious, right?

Well, I sent our newest facilitator an email reply from moi to report the requested gift items for $50 or less from my city's relatives. I communicated the requests, and I played facilitator in our city by telling the people who they're playing Santa for and providing the wish lists. But being the daughter I am, I came up with a novel idea for my mom: whoever has my mom's name can tell me what they didn't buy for her, and I can pick from those items so she can get TWO desired items. Nifty. I communicate this to our facilitator and just wait to hear back from Mama's Secret Santa.

I bet the facilitator is dealing with a bunch of stuff dealing with us, so there's no pressure. I appreciate that someone else stepped in. Honestly, I would've done it if I were asked, so I don't want to give much grief to the person who's doing it. But I get this email: "I just let the perfume off for your mom."

WTH??? I jumped to a conclusion, waited a minute to let it sink in, then stuck by the same conclusion: that's some straight BS. If I didn't know any better, I'd definitely say this person is manipulating the exchange instead of just facilitating. It's not like said person said something cool like, "I got your mom items A and B because I'm just ballin' like that, so the only thing left is the perfume." Naw... This one pretty much looked at the list and said, "Her daughter should buy her the perfume because it's the most expensive item." (It might not be if you look at the right websites.) Again, straight BS because if I wanted that to be done...., me and my bold self would've left the item off the list in the first place and bought it for her. But in the spirit of giving, I wanted to give the other party the chance to buy one of three nice items for my mom, and then I choose from the remaining items that weren't the giftgivers' first choice. That's my rationale because I love to give gifts that I would appreciate, so it's like giving a piece of myself, and maybe Mama's Santa wants to do the same thing. That's just the kind of woman I am. Besides the pissed off kind that dislikes obvious manipulation and BS.

The one good thing to come out of this moment is that I've learned that I'm not the only habitual line stepper (RIP "Slick" Rick James) out of my cousins. *sigh*

We paid attention in Language Arts. You can, too.

I've been overwhelmed with different emotions over the past 13 days since America did the right thing and elected Barack Obama as the 44th President. There are still a few sparks of excitement and anticipation left over from the initial grandiose explosions of fireworks when I saw the election results. A Black President of the US seemed surreal, but it has become more and more real since I've heard Ru.sh Limbaug.h and S.ean Hann.ity on the radio ranting and damn near exploding like a shed filled with explosives lit from a long trail of gunpowder by a mischievous cartoon character. Despite two people's broadcasted rants that represent the various stages of outrage from 48% of the nation's registered voters, the other 52% of voting Americans are still reveling at the impending change that we anticipate.

It also helps that our President-Elect is so crushworthy.

But the other night, I learned that we still have so far to go despite our voting. When I speak of we, I'm referring to my Black brothers and sisters.

I was visiting my family and got to play with my seven-month old niece, "DaBy". We have a nice bond already. It's just natural. Maybe she detects that I was just a light-complected as she was when I was a baby. Honestly, it's hilarious to me that my brother always picked at me for being the lightest, and now his daughter is even lighter than I am.

I love that little girl, but she can be quite a handful, especially when she's unhappy. Sometime during the evening, DaBy was completely irritated and was letting us know it while she wailed right in front of me. She literally was crying and fussing for no reason. At all. I know this because after about 8 seconds of trying the "What's wrong?" game with her, I decided to share some pictures of her cousins that were on the table.

"Look, DaBy!" I shouted in the excited tone reserved for little kids and PBS afternoon stars. "It's your cousin, Mimi! Isn't she pretty?! Ooh, and there's Lee! Isn't that such a pretty picture?! You'll grow hair like hers one day! Ooh! There's Mimi again! She's playing volleyball! You can play volleyball one day, too!!! YES! You can play whatever you want, and I'll bet you'll want to hit stuff!"

DaBy actually stopped crying and was looking at each of the pictures. She didn't even sniffle. Just looked at the pictures. Then, she turned and looked at me and started her baby talk. She really loves talking, so I do my little part to return the chatter back to her.

From out of nowhere, DaBy's other aunt (DaBy's mom's sister) has to say, "Ooh, look who sounds white."

I don't even really know this woman, but that pissed me off. Being who I am, I immediately told her to kiss my white ass. Maybe that convinced her I'm not so white. But how effed up is it that America and the entire world just celebrated the election of an intelligent, well-spoken, obviously educated, charismatic (and attractive) black man as the leader of the world's most powerful country, yet that nonsense notion of being a smart black person means trying to be white still exists? Everyone's victory in his successful campaign should actually illustrate more than ever how important and invaluable an education is. Parents of school children everywhere should point to our President Elect as an example as why young students have to pay attention in school and learn something; their child could be taking the Oath of Office one day. But that damn crabs-in-a-barrel mentality won't go away.

Honestly, the notion that such an effed up belief system that has held black people back for so long would instantaneously evaporate with an historic election is kind of silly. But with such an idealistic approach to life these days, that "woman's" words were almost a slap in the face of Obama's work and his supporters' colorblind beliefs. I still have hope for the rest of us and even DaBy waking her other aunt up to reality. Speaking clearly and understandable is not just a trait of white people. It's just a trait of a well-spoken, educated person. Period.

So many thoughts in my head yet so little time before I have to report back to the salt mines better known as my job. Wide awake for some good reasons since I'm contemplating all of my next moves.

At least I have the CDL General Knowledge test under my belt. I'm studying up for the Air Brakes and Combinations portions that I plan to take later this month. The beauty is that I'm one step closer to my goal. I'm officially on the path to the next phase of my life, and that thrills me so much. The next phase can't start fast enough, but everything is still happening one step at a time. *sigh* But if I could drive someone's truck tomorrow, I would.

Since I can't, I'm living vicariously through a new friend of a friend. I met her when she was still in CDL school at Dekalb Tech. Now, she's officially earned her Class A CDL and will be starting orientation with a trucking company soon. She doesn't officially know it, but she's already become a sort of mentor for me. We both already know we'll be two of the prettiest truckers on the road. That doesn't mean trucking in stilettos and fitted Baby Phat jeans. Just maintaining the pretty....

In the meantime, I'm praying that I can make it through my current position. I only need it while I'm in school, and I'm outta there as soon as I get the right trucking position. But for now, I'm appreciating the fact that I'm employed while others are unemployed in this atrocious economy and job market. A job that drives me crazy with changes and interesting executive decision making is better than no job at all, especially since I know at least four people currently out of work, and one hasn't worked in 3 months. I'm bitter about my job but sincerely appreciative to be employed. Quite the conundrum that anyone can clearly understand in 2008.

"I Just Want it To Be Over" was an instrumental part of my personal soundtrack when I was teaching but finally realized I want to drive trucks. Yet, I have an interesting motor vehicle record. It's cleaned up now with ZERO points, but I'm obviously in yet another phase where this last phase can't be over fast enough.


Keyshia Cole - (I just want it) to be over
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwPS2FT0HUE

I've been feenin' for this for years!!!

This "Passin' Me By" remix was one of the songs that showed me there was more to hip hop than just what was on V-103 on Friday night's Fresh Party. It's hard to conceive that there was no hip hop on Atlanta airwaves 24 hours a day when you consider that Atlanta is now a hub for hip hop and the music industry in general.

The original "Passin Me By" and this divine remix provided some of the auditory Heaven on Earth experiences I had on Sunday nights from 10 PM to 2 AM during my high school years. WRAS 88.5 FM played underground hip hop and all the goodies from '91 - '95 (a great time for hip hop). That's where I discovered Nas and "Illmatic", The Lords of the Underground, Common Sense (the deliciously gifted artist and actor we know as Common), Black Moon, Apache, The Pharcyde, and so many others. This is where I experienced the "jazzier" side of hip hop and anything other than booty shaking and coochie popping.

* For my FaceBook friends, go to my profile to hear the posted music or return to my blog: http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com.

Thank YOU, Senator McCain!!!

I never thought I'd appreciate anything Senator John McCain did, especially after hearing the story of how he created a huge calamity at sea when he was in the service. That calamity cost hundreds of lives according to my source. Guess I should look that up....

BUT THIS WAS WAY MORE IMPORTANT!!! Last night, I had to go to sleep on the Presidential debates because a lady has to wake up and go to work. I was listening to Q100 in Atlanta, and I heard that Sen. McCain refused to shake Senator Barack Obama's hand. I was thinking, "There must be a misunderstanding. No one would be silly enough to act like that in front of several dozen people including Tom Brokaw and definitely not while the cameras are rolling." I searched through a few Presidential debate videos on YouTube. Then, I figured I should search for "McCain refuses" and sort by date added... VOILA!

I watched the short clip below twice and had to see that this experienced Senator who knows everything about how to save our country doesn't know the first thing about common courtesy. How do you consider yourself to be a presidential candidate but refuse to do something as simple as shake your well-spoken opponent's hand? How can I trust you to handle the complicated tasks of a presidency when you cannot shake the hand of the man that obviously has an edge on you after the debate? How can Sen. McCain really be trusted to be the face of America when meeting with international officials and diplomats? What I can trust is if someone shines more than McCain in anyway, then McCain will nearly act like a eight year old Little Leaguer who lost a game. Granted, McCain didn't physically move away from Obama's outstretched right hand, but McCain's refusal to return the silent gesture speaks volumes about his character.

In short, THANK YOU, Senator McCain! There were some undecided voters watching, and I'm confident that those few seconds of your life swayed some undecided voters to be sure to cast their votes for Senator Obama. Not to mention your lackluster decision of Governor Palin as your vice-presidential running mate. I can't thank you enough for your decision making skills.




John McCain Refuses to shake hands with Barack Obama - 2nd Presidential Debate*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BN_wsMA_LJA

* For my FaceBook friends, go to my profile to view the posted video or return to my blog: http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com.

the "are you kidding me?" lesson

I saw my younger brother NOPI get married on Friday, and that was pretty extraordinary considering he and the bride almost missed the ceremony. Their little family was well-dressed and commented on highly for how attractive they were. I'm still fascinated that my younger brother who has always vowed to never grow up is a father and now a husband.

With such a monumental event in the fabric of life, I should've known something would unravel a bit. Saturday morning is going pretty well. Just another early morning rise where I'm happy to not report to work because I'm straight chillin' in my cozy good with my hubby. The Good Life indeed. Then, my cell rings.
The caller ID only shows "private no." which probably only means one thing: don't answer. Only one person's number would show as private, but my devil's advocate kicks in. Why would Christopher Columbus call me after the last conversation we had where I cruelly but honestly advised that any other pursuits of me were a waste of his time and energy because he and I would never go any damn where? I even hung up on him four times to drive the point home. So no self-respecting man would chase a bitch like that again. Never. It'll be nothing to this phone call.

I answer in my cold business demeanor, "This is sunshyne."

Mystery voice says, "Heyyy!" It's a deep voice that sounds pretty sexy. Damn if it ain't Christopher Columbus! I grow colder trying to confirm the suspicion. Then, I figure I should throw suspicions out the window when dude has not identified himself after 10 seconds. I hate the "I just wanna hear your voice game".

Click. And it's over. Damn, forgot to tell him I'm married. Then again, Christopher Columbus called earlier in the week, and I know he heard my new last name on my voice mail.

The irony that is my life. I knew a former flame (or idiot) would be calling because I had a dream that I spoke with an old flame on the phone in my dream the night before. It was a different guy that I would've enjoyed talking to just so he can be reminded again that he wouldn't have to call me to hear my voice if he would've done right by me. Between the dream and the actual phone call, I remember all the bullshit I went through before meeting my wonderful husband with his perfect imperfections.

I put my phone down, walked over to hubby, and gave him kisses and hugs to show him again how much I appreciate him and the best decision I've made to date.

Blogger's Block has struck...somewhat

I finally found a nice groove in my writings and such. Then, my job gets wacky...to put it mildly. So, what's a woman with aspirations to do? Get on top of making those aspirations happening.

For the past two weeks, I've been studying in the Georgia CDL manual to get ready to take the General Knowledge test. I've been highlighting in five different colors, writing little side notes that help me, and taking a practice tests online at CristCDL.com. Challenging is not the word for it considering that my memory is shaky. However, would it really be worth it if there weren't some type of challenge involved? If I could just memorize the answers to a test, sure that would get me closer to the goal of being behind the wheel of a eighteen-wheeler all over the Southeast. But would I be one of those ill-prepared drivers that causes tractor trailer wrecks that tie-up interstates and pisses off soccer moms and commuting corporate cogs trying to arrive on time to their spot in the machine?

Naw. I'll just study and therefore limit my blogging time. It makes me sad to limit my blogs, but I have a dream to achieve. Thanks to my friends who have been impressed and so encouraging when learning that I'm working hard to make things happen.

PS GOOOOOO DAWGS!!! That was a tough game against those nasty Gamecocks, but a victory is a victory. 3-0! Woof woof woof!

Another Soul Train mystery solved!

Everyone should have memories of watching Soul Train at some point during their childhood. You loved different dancers like "The Asian Lady" featuring Her Hair. The Costume Guy might have freaked you out with some of his combinations, but he stayed on the main stage with "Ski" that was always walking around the stage in his shades or just posing in his suits, pretty hair, and light skin. I finally figured out that "Ski" needed attention. A LOT of attention.

Being the Greek Life lover that I am, I always wondered if there were any Black Greeks who ever showed up on the hippest trip in America and represented on syndicated television. I wouldn't expect stepping and strolling on Soul Train because that would just be ridiculous. Just wearing some 'nalia or throwing up a sign.

I learned the truth this past weekend. There WAS a Black Greek reppin' on Soul Train! Some of you might remember the chocolate-complected dude with the short jheri curl; he was known for wearing some fringed outfits. Maybe he was a clothing designer seeking his destiny just like a bunch of the dancers were seeking their fame in singing or acting. (NOTE: There were success stories like Rosie Perez whose rear you'll see for the first 1.5 seconds of the second video, Jody Watley, Jermaine Stewart, and more that are probably ahead of my time.)

Shock does not adequately describe what I found on either of these short videos. Seeing some of the fashions on Soul Train in the '70s and '80s is a stone gas, honey. Reppin' your organzation... priceless.

It's 1908 in Ponce de Leon, FL....

Principal's outing of gay student roils Fla. town

updated 5:57 a.m. PT, Thurs., Aug. 21, 2008

PONCE DE LEON, Fla. - When a high school senior told her principal that students were taunting her for being a lesbian, he told her homosexuality is wrong, outed her to her parents and ordered her to stay away from children.

He suspended some of her friends who expressed their outrage by wearing gay pride T-shirts and buttons at Ponce de Leon High School, according to court records. And he asked dozens of students whether they were gay or associated with gay students.

The American Civil Liberties Union successfully sued the district on behalf of a girl who protested against Principal David Davis, and a federal judge reprimanded Davis for conducting a "witch hunt" against gays. Davis was demoted, and school employees must now go through sensitivity training.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26316235/

My real friends that really know me would know that this pisses me off. I've always been straight, but I'm also a supporter of my gay friends. If one of my dear cousins would have come out to me before he died, I would have embraced him exactly as he was, even if I would've been the only family member to support him. Honestly, one of the things I regret not doing in college is joining a campus group called "Straight but not Narrow", but I didn't know how supportive I was of my gay friends at that time. Honestly, I wholeheartedly believe that gay people are born that way. If I encounter a person that has a different opinion of homosexuality, we can express our opposing POVs, agree to disagree, and move on with our lives. It's not like the outcome of our discussion will instantly change the sexual orientation of all gay and bi-sexual people at that moment - that if that's what they wanted anyway.

So, in 2008, someone being gay should no longer be such a big deal considering that gay marriage is legal in two states. Hell, it even impresses me how much some Americans love El.len DeGen.eres regardless of the fact that she's an out lesbian. Even when I taught 9th grade a few years ago, I was impressed that most of the kids who knew they had gay classmates did not seem to be affected by the sight of rainbow colored jewelry. These kids were not perfect, but they represented the idea of judging based on character pretty well.

But the above article reeks of a backwoods town that thinks it's 1908 instead of 2008 and probably has no interest in progressing with the rest of America. It's as if the young student watched encouraging and insightful daytime talkshows like "The Ty.ra B.anks Show" and listened to the lessons on compassion, acceptance, and diversity. This generation of kids are taught that bullying is punishable and should not be tolerated. Instead of internalizing the issues and just accepting the taunts as a regular part of childhood, these young people are supposed to find a trusted adult (teacher, counselor, or administrator) in their lives to help them. This poor student really trusted their principal to help them out because that is what s/he has learned is the right thing to do.

Instead, this trusting child has to be bullied and subjected to tomfoolery perpetuated by an adult that has Masters and/or Doctoral degrees that probably includes "Leadership". Maybe "Decision Making" classes and assessments should become a part of becoming an administrator. The saddest part is that the former principal probably thought he was really doing a good thing in the interest of the children and the community.

This is just some hot mess in 2008. So the moral of the story is we can possibly elect America's first black president in 2008, but we cannot accept the idea of young people who know that they are gay. *sighhhhhhhh*

1-2-3-4-FIVE-6-7-8-9-10-11-twel-el-el-el-el-el-ELVE!

Do you ever sit at your job wondering what the hell did you do wrong to be in the position that you're in? You want to prepare youreself to do better and start planning in your head or on a hot pink Pos.t-it the steps to take to get to your dream career. Then, you realize it's not as simple as fining a new job tomorrow but more like earning another degree or getting professional training for what you want. Your heart drops a bit.

Then, you go to your "Happy Place" and something from childhood brings a smile back to your face. For me, one of the happiest places is the 60 seconds of counting from one to twelve with the pinball machine on Sesame Street.

When I was a kid, I just knew I could teleport myself into that loopy well lit pinball machine world and just stand around. Then, when the ball wouldn't be on the ramps, I could ride my bike and pop wheelies all over the ramps. I might even sneak in some time to check out the special bonus area associated with each number. Yessssss.... I'd even end the night in that funky nightlife with the duckies and buildings at the end of the segment.

Please allow me to take us all back to the best pinball machine EVER.



Pinball Number Count 7: World Tour
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uh4_ybNgEJg

Geor-gia!!! Bull-dawgs!!! better than South Carolina anyday

Exciting but nervewrecking. That's how you can chalk up my reaction to my Georgia Bulldawgs Preason #1 ranking in the Associated Press poll. I'm sure plenty of people didn't think this was coming, but it did. YESSSSSS!!!

But it's still nervewrecking because everyone that starts out #1 doesn't always end the season at #1 according to a recent blog in the AJC. Just ask the University of Southern California Trojans who started out #1 last year but finished the season at #3 (behind UGA). Only time will tell if my team can pull it out. Regardless of the outcome, I'll nation does as well.

The memory of UGA ending up head of USC in the end makes me laugh - even more than Michigan's loss to Division II Appalachian State (BWAHAHAHAHA!) - only because I have a colleague that played for them back in the day, and he razzes me every week. He's a truly devoted alum that always recognizes the true nature of his team's legacy (payola anyone?), and I respect him for that. In return, he knows UGA only has two national football titles (1942 and 1980), but we've always had talent in a rigorous conference. Who can't respect fans like the Bulldawg Nation?

But a comment in the AJC blog about a fellow SEC team was pure hilarity! SEC fans are absolutely loyal, but you gotta give South Carolina Gamecock fans credit for their ridiculous, almost illogical devotion to their team. One commenter on a recent AJC.com blog cracked me up with their breakdown of the losing tradition that encompasses Gamecock Gobbledygook. Some might find the comment disrespectful, but what's so disrespectful about hardcore football statistics documented in the annals of NCAA history? I'll keep laughing...just as long as my Dawgs handle business in Columbia on September 13. We haven't forgotten.

Oh yeah. Back to the laughs.

http://www.ajc.com/blogs/content/shared-blogs/ajc/uga/entries/2008/08/18/consensus_no_1.html#comment-114014403

It's not a "murse" damn it.

Thank God for the weekend. Honestly, it's the beginning of my real life outside of the weekly grind.

Today, I sat outside of a local coffee franchise that's not so ubiquitous like another place we all know. Just sitting at a table outside enjoying the weather and a dose of whipped cream floating above espresso, steamed milk, and three packets of Sp.lenda. While other latte loving ladies and gentleman enjoy their drinks and company, my eyes land on a guy on the sidewalk leaving the same franchise with a medium white paper cup full of his own customized caffeine goodness in one hand. The other hand holds a white plastic bag with office supplies from a nearby chain store that's not one of the large stores you can't live without. I think to myself, "Maybe he's got opened eyes like me that actually go against the grain of what's allegedly popular. He might not fall for the hype. Good for him!" Well, the white earbuds probably feeding Coldplay into his spirit from his pervasive i_Pod kinda killed that theory. Then again, what if he was jamming to "Scenario" by A Tribe Called Quest or even some classic Masta P???



I continued to enjoy and savor my own caffeine heaven in a paper cup while watching guy cross the busy four lane street. The only guy walking in this area right outside of a major university went calmly on his way, and he probably walked off to a residence to have enough paper for printing a huge assignment. That left me truly impressed that there were other people in Atlanta like me that didn't have to have a car for every single errand or event in their life. Maybe walking dude and I will save the planet together by inspiring our friends, loved ones, and even sworn enemies who cannot help admiring our commitment to think outside the bleak box of "the norm".

Unfortunately, one thing about dude slowly began to "grind my gears" (I love that line). My not-so-stuck in the matrix dude had a plastic shopping bag. Why was he just like my husband and probably other countless men that do not make effective use of a reusable shopping bag? They're honestly easier to carry since you can put it over your shoulder like a computer bag, a messenger bag, or... a shoulder bag. Why carry one, two, or even six merchandise-filled plastic bags with those flimsy handles that can hurt your fingers after about sixty seconds when you can put several items in one bag? I imagine that carrying those bags that can only hold a few cans or boxes at one time really suck if you are on foot.

The benefits make complete sense and far outweigh the cons to me as a woman, but it's almost like a crime against manhood to ask a man to think about the environment and not take the plastic bags from the stores. Men must think that if they carry their groceries, power tools, deodorant, or sneakers in reusable bags, then they've just pimp-slapped their masculinity out of their bodies to lay on the asphalt like a used-up crumpled street walker with baggy eyes and a few gray hairs. The bags come in so many varieties of looks and colors and prices, so it's not like the bags can be mistaken for a lady's handbag just because it's on the shoulder. So it's not a "murse" damn it but just a shopping bag. Seriously. It grind my gears that men can be so consumed with what they perceive to be an attack on their image when it's not that serious.

As a black woman with reusable bags, I always feel like I'm truly in the minority because I try to use my bags all the time. I have seen one other black woman use the reusable shopping bags in my area, and that makes me proud. However, I'm quite likely in the minority for being worried about one guy with a plastic bag. I'm confident there are a lot of men that refuse to embrace the reusable bags. That's beyond disappointing for me, but if a great number of people learned to embrace all of these social networks on the 'net, then maybe there's hope for coffee-sipping guys to buy and use reusable shopping bags. My fingers are crossed.

Monday has already come and gone. The upside: my newest co-worker and I went to lunch together, and we enjoyed each other's company. We just dig each other. Maybe she and I detect a certain maturity in each other because we both prefer to get the job done and work completely under the radar. The downside: we had to return to the drudgery and torture called "work" one hour later. Brutal... Just gimme my check - er, direct deposit.

As the sands of time keep falling, here comes Tuesday. Besides the last 2 seconds of the video below, the fact remains that I completely relate to what's conveyed in the video below...even on Tuesday. Definitely Wednesday as well. The feeling doesn't begin to wane until Thursday. Oddly, I bet a bunch of people feel the exact same way about their method of making income.


http://www.youtube.com/v/npQC7v73TXg&hl=en&fs=1

Random Thoughts

The only constant is change, and I'm being consumed by it. My professional life and source of income is stuck dead in the middle of a crossroads. It's not cluttered because I have ideas on what I want to. I definitely want to avoid backtracking and deciding to stay where I am. Regression and restricting my gifts and talents tend to be pointless. So, developing and honing my natural gifts in writing is a very likely direction.

In keeping with the spirit, I have to write something. I penned my first real effort at a poem. The topic was patriotism, and so far, other members of my writing group seem to be blown away by my attempt. Nice. So no poetry today. Just some random expressions:

~ How'd I get so lucky to have a husband who likes to cook for me and doesn't mind cleaning at all? And he digs me exactly the way I am. Full-figured fluffiness and all. Never would have conceived of this in a million years.

~ "I Wanna Work For Diddy" is quickly becoming my new favorite reality show. The mantra of "Sleep is Forbidden" inspires one to be driven in theory, but for real.... I need about 6 hours of sleep. I don't have any sleep disorders, and I don't want them just because I thought achieving was more important than resting my body.

~ "From G's to Gents" isn't half as bad as I thought. I jumped on a recent ep where the guys had to show business savvy in front of I.rv G.ot.ti. The Atlanta dude outshined the other guys for real. But that T. Jones guy... He's not "slow", but he definitely posseses a quality about himself that screams "little boy in a grown man's body". I felt bad for him during the challenge because he high-tailed it down the very familiar path of self-sabotage when he was faced with a challenge.

~ I got a lil' excited when I saw gas for $3.74/gal this evening. About a nanosecond later, I remembered reading that oil prices are dropping about 10 - 15% while the price of fuel at the pump is dropping about 3%. Plus, it's still pretty close to $4/gal. This is some bull....

~ Pan.dora radio rocks. Why did I wait so long to jump on it?

~ I love LL Cool J for those hilarious MTV mini-spots, especially the "Misery"-inspired ones.

You're still married, right?

Someone recently asked me why I don't write about being married. "You're a newlywed, so you should still be in your honeymoon period," s/he said. "Has he already started showing his ass?"

My mind had to soak up the inquiries and let those ideas marinate. This single person really seemed set on the idea that if my subject matter was not "all HUBBY, all the time!" that we must be unhappy already. Every word out of my mouth and on my blog was not about acquiring the new title of "wife" and ensuring that my mate kept the title "happy husband", so the must be problems rearing their aesthetically challenged heads, right?

*SIGHHHHHHHHHH*

Honestly, these have been the best 5 months and 3 weeks ever. Marrying hubby has been the best decision I ever made. He's really the sweetest, kindest man that I've ever known, but best believe that he's all man, not some punk. Granted, he's not perfect because we find that we disagree and have different viewpoints, but I would choose him again and again rather than go with someone I agree with 100%.

HOWEVER, my happiness in my marriage does not take over my life. My oldest sister and one of my favorite sorors both gave me a solid piece of advice before I married: "Don't lose who you are." I honestly live by that credo because it took me just about 30 years to figure out who I really am. Getting married at 30 1/2 years was not going to shatter that progress, and it still hasn't. My hubby has always loved me for my virtues and my perfect imperfections because I am always me. We make a life together, and we have fun.

However, I've seen too many episodes of talk shows where some sap (male or female) discusses their significant other and sheds tears as they say something along the lines of "S/He completes me." I've met men and women who actually exhibit signs that their man or woman really does complete their lives. BUT(!) as for moi, my marriage does not encompass my existence, and I refuse to become one of those wives that is identified solely by being married to a man. I have always had the point of view that any wo/man is a complement to a wo/man's life, not a goal toward completion.

So, the short version of the answer to why don't I talk marriage all day: "I don't want to bore myself or anyone else." I just can't bear the idea of me becoming one of those people that can't talk about themselves because they are consumed by their spouse, and now they're finally validated as a real person because someone wants them. No, no, no, not your girl. Not ever.

Just Because

Keisha Cole is not my favorite singer ever, but her songs obviously speak to people including me. "Sent From Heaven" has that beautiful guitar and the beach that reminds of Aaliyah's "Rock the Boat" video. Plus, hubby and I probably feel the same way about each other that Keisha sings about.

Barefoot in the summer at CAU

Just 15 years ago, I was in the SCOPE/FTMS Summer program for 6 weeks on the campus of Clark Atlanta University. I honestly had hopes of being an 8th Grade Algebra teacher, so it made sense to try to become a Future Teacher of Math and Science. Thank God I found out that I couldn't handle math and science, but it was a fun summer. Thank God that I learned a lot about the good and the bad of Greek life before going to college. This experience lead me to one definite decision based on an idea that all Greeks should live by.

Those 6 weeks were my first time away from home...even though my family was a 25 minute ride down the interstate. Living in the dorms that college students live in and sneak around in. Eating that campus dining hall food -- I mean not having a lot of tasty choices in what to eat because a lot of the food was..... Meeting other students from southern GA and other East and West Coast states across the country. Learning a lot about how crazy life can be because young people in the midst of their formative years can be straight up fools. But I did make some friends there that were just regular girls like me. Not popular, not complete nerds, but just making it through puberty.

One of the highlights was being mentored by some of the college students. There were 2 guys and 2 girls. One guy and girl were just regular students who taught us valuable lessons. To this day, I can't remember the guy's name, but I remember him telling a small group of us in a casual convo, "If y'all [the couple] have to hit on one another, then y'all ain't supposed to be together." If a man or woman has to get their point across with fists instead of conversation, then they shouldn't be together. That simple idea has never left me, and I still pass that on to others.

The other guy and girl were members of two of the Divine Nine fraternities and sororities. I don't recall the guys name, but he was a member of Alpha Phi Alpha. Looking back, he fit the stereotype of an Alpha very well: scholarly, arrogant, and fun to be around. He expected a lot of all of his mentees, and we lived up to those expectations for the most part. I'd bet money that several of those young men in our program were influenced to become Alphas. The female mentor was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha. She completely fit the AKA stereotype: attractive, full of arrogant "pretty girl" attitude, excelling. She had a lot of expectations of us as well, and most of us lived up to her standards.

The Greek mentors decided to teach the 40+ students how to step. After attending classes and being enlightened to what the world held beyond our middle class teenaged lives during the day, the students were taken to on campus locations to learn stepping. Our mentor happened to have her chapter soror and Step Mistress on campus. She worked with us very hard and never made us feel bad about what were doing. They also "bonded" the 20 - 30 young ladies by making us "duck walk" from our dorm to the step practice location and back for the return. They even modified one of the pledge songs so we can sing together about striving to be number one. I'm sure that part of this experience was the first exposure to greekdom for some of the girls just like it was for me. The stepping was fun and made me want to have the fun side of greekdom, but our mentor told us about the community service, etc. so we knew it wasn't just singing and stepping.

But one night while we had part of our step practice in front of the dorm, another pivotal event happened. Our mentor, the attractive AKA, had all of us doing one of the first parts of the step routine. Girls from the Upward Bound program were looking out of their windows and making suggestions as to what we should do. Our mentor ignored the comments and kept us focused. She reminded us that all kinds of things will be shouted during a step show, and you have to remain focused to put on a good show.

The girls from Upward Bound were distracting, but then another college-aged woman came outside through the front door of the dorm. She wore a t-shirt, shorts, a head wrap, and no shoes. This young lady said she wanted to show us something. This young lady proceeded to step in front of us for 10 seconds. With no shoes. HARD. The young girls in the windows cheered wildly for the young lady who must've been an Upward Bound mentor. As she left, our FTMS mentor had the most unamused look on her face as she slowly clapped and encouraged us mentees to clap for her so we can get back to practice.

That incident was my first introduction to that sorority. That first introduction lead to my first impression: I don't want to be one of those sorority girls. Whatever the 1993 equivalent of "ghetto" was, that's what that young lady lead me to believe about her sorority. She broke a cardinal rule of Greekdom: always represent yourself to the utmost at all times because you never know who will meet you and therefore meet your organization for the first time. She was so busted that I knew I couldn't consider an org that would include a woman that steps hard on concrete inthe middle of the night. Therefore, I barely considered that sorority for even a split second when I started my long journey to greekdom.

Michelle Obama on "The View"

The View" is normally not on my radar because I'm still irked by the way Baba Wawa and that other wench Jo.y mistreated Mo'nique when she was guest hosting. Even had the nerve to make Mo'nique out to be disgusting and uncivilized because she opts not to shave her legs. Makes no damn sense for a show that is supposed to halfway bond and empower women would have two women gang up on one woman.

Today however, the wife of the 2008 presumptive Democratic presidential nominee, Mrs. Michelle Obama, was a guest co-host on "The View". Wonderful exposure and great opportunity for people to see her on a casual level and get to know her as a woman. The only reason I even know about this opportunity is because I heard about the appearance today on "The Mich.a.el Ba.is.den Radio Show", and they were disccussing Who.opi Goldb.erg's somewhat controbersial comments.

Simply, Who.opi comments that Mrs. Obama presents a positive image for black women instead of the common image with "no teeth" and can't make a complete coherent sentence to save their lives. But especially for dark-skinned black women. Whoopi thanked Michelle for being a positive representation.

Honestly, I don't see what the fuss is about because Who.opi was speaking the truth. Yeah, Who.opi has been questionable in the past, but folks should stop tripping as if she were B.ill Cos.by telling the truth about black people. Black folks know their used to seeing us on the news looking a damn fool, giving an incoherent account of the details that requires the closed captioning to be understood, or being the accused or red-handed criminal in handcuffs. That isn't how we always are, but that's a damned familiar image. Of course, all representations of black women or dark-skinned sistas or black people aren't bad because there are some strong, eloquent, put-together sistas and brothas in the world. They exist, and we as a culture embrace them.

The difference is that mainstream media doesn't always embrace or display that image. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they'd ask a light-skinned person for the POV since they were the first person they could find. After all, the news station has to have eyewitness accounts in their news coverage. Let a "true refelction" of a black person come along, and you wouldn't even know there were light-skinned people. It's alsmost as if the media feels that articulate accounts from black people in general aren't believable. Maybe their newscast won't be so trusted and dependable if someone articulate and black is on camera.

Thank God that we are in a historical time period where someone like Michelle Obama cannot be ignored because she's supporting her husband who's running for president. She's on the biggest national stage of all during this campaign, and she gets to disprove the myth that Opra.h is the only articulate black woman with influence and charm.

But I can't leave it all roses. I'm figuring that Michelle Obama had to request a "fist bump" for her greetings because that's what the media has been calling it. That ain't no fist bump. It's a "pound". It's probably going to be nicknamed a fist bump while the Obamas are campaigning, but it'll be a a pound once our first black president is elected.

He that sho won't be named + what's more than hygenics + germulosity

I haven't blogged in a while, so here's three items at once. Why? Because I like you.

"He that sho won't be named - nasty arse" got away with the crime that he committed... I-don't-know-how-many years ago. What I know is that I saw the video way back when, and a video forensics expert saw the video, and we both saw that it was "He that sho won't be named - nasty arse". I know that money will get you a lot of things. But who knew it would get a girl to claim "That ain't me!" while 14 other people including relatives are pinpointing her as the co-star of disturbing footage in a wood-paneled rec room/den -- which was featured in BET's now defunct show "How I'm Living"???

Here's a link to a much more eloquent posting on the subject: http://mokellyreport.blogspot.com/2008/06/r-kelly-pied-piper-beats-pedophile-rap.html.

I posted the below NOTE on Facebook on Friday, and it's just so relevant to the above hot mess. If you're single, maybe you should consider keeping something as a hygienic practice only so you won't be in a courtroom vehemently insisting, "That ain't me!"

Gargling: It's more than a hygenic practice.

Friday, June 13, 2008 at 1:27pm
I learned a new euphemism from one of my homegirls today. In her note, a guy mentions that he's dealt with a group of women who "gargled" a lot when they were dating. I got the visual and was disgusted at the prospect.

But then again, I'm married. I keep my man happy, and he keeps me happy. We are a happily married couple with 4 months under the belt. So, "gargling" isn't so disgusting in that capacity. Not that we'll discuss if it's happened or not, but "gargling" is acceptable in a married capacity. Maybe even a long-term relationship that is obviously starting to lean towards marriage because y'all have been together for years.

Single? I know that being single SUCKS. That's why single ladies should SUCK. And that's it. Try to do more than that too early, and I'll bet you'll be sucking down a pitcher of margaritas still wondering why he doesn't call anymore. Because you allowed your "jumpoff" nametag to appear.

So say it with me. "It SUCKS to be single. That's why you only SUCK."

http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=16395913619&id=503561206&index=0

Lastly, I watched "Life in the Fab Lane," Kimora Lee Simmons' show. It's not a regular thing for me to watch, but her homecoming to St. Louis enlightened and entertained me. A classic case of "local girl does GREAT". Her youngest is adorable and has a mind and a mouth that amaze me because it's as if she's been here before.

Kimmora's life is pretty fabulous, and I can't hate. Just one thing got me. She's in her suite at The Four seasons calling up her best friend from childhood. Fabulous how she can still stay down with someone that knew her way back when. Kimmora doesn't let her fingers do the walking. She uses the tines of a fork to push each number on that push button phone. While she's talking, she takes some bites of food. My memory is not top-notch, but I can remember all kinds of things when it comes to germs since I'm a "germ freak" as my mama says. Kimmora did not put that fork down. She ate with a fork that touched a phone that God knows how many people have dialed on. She's left fabulosity for me and is now forever known for her "germulosity".

I know it's The Four Seasons. I also know a saw a local news report about a general practice where hotels have housekeeping clean out glasses by wiping with glass cleaner and towels. Think about how many times you've heard or seen a rolling cart full of glasses just clinking down the hotel hallway. Can't even recall one. Damn, Kimmora. Just damn. Not to mention eww.

I can't call it for sure, but I'm pretty sure I was stricken with the flu this past weekend. It's currently Wednesday, and I'm still sniffling and blowing my nose. IN JUNE.

I called out work on Monday but came back on Tuesday ready for war. I had my mini space heater and three shirts including a heavy Polo sweatshirt. I've been slurping on a lot of soup and hot tea just trying to feel better and avoid further sickness.

All of our grandmamas know why I'm sick like this. IN JUNE. It's the change of season and running in and out of the A/C and this ungodly summer heat. That's why I'm sleeping with a heater at my house at night. It's set to low so hubby doesn't think I'm entirely crazy.

Whirlwind weekend almost over.

I have about 24 hours left to recuperate from the last 48 hours.

Between being a proud auntie at her salutatorian niece's graduation (beautiful speech), road tripping up and down the interstate, and having the honor and privilege to serve as one of SupaChica's bridesmaids at her beautiful, tasteful, and fun wedding at a very lovely Georgia location, I'm wiped out but content.

By they way, my girl, SupaChica, was absolutely stunning. Her bridal party (Team Bride) was attractive as well. Everyone just looked nice, and everyone was touched by everything. Fascinating fact: almost everyone in the bridal party is married. Impressive.

Now that all is said and done, I almost don't know what to do with myself. There's one other thing I have to do, but it doesn't compare to logging about 500 miles on my car on the weekend with the highest gas prices yet. It was worth it since there were some once-in-a-lifetime events I went to. But I still filled up my tank at a cost of $47.84. *tear*

"This is how we chill"

Today was just like any other day except I felt like being cute on the job. After all, I wore sweat pants yesterday. Dolled up with a colorful yet tastefully done face, I jumped in the car. Damn if I didn't forget the small brush to apply the pot of cream eyeliner... to my eyebrows. Just for definition. I was running late already, so I couldn't turn around and tear my house apart looking for it. *sigh*

I always keep makeup pencils in the car, and the only one remaining was my NYC red lip liner. It's only been on my lips about 10 times in life because I always used the red to create red eyebrows to match my hair. On this occasion, my heart kinda dropped. I had gotten accustomed to the dark brown eyebrows I created. Maybe I just felt more grown up with my not as red hair and my dark eyebrows. Even typing right now, I'm just not digging red eyebrows, especially with this colorful make up.

A redefinition had begun. Red eyebrows equaled a regression. *sighhh*

You should always remember where you came from and what has defined you. I just had stepped away from that like I did so many other things. Evolution, not living in the past.

But revisiting the past for a spell is always hot. That's why my picture has been replaced by a defining graphic. It's not my definition because I never had the image of hard core hip hop head. Just the heart of one. For those that haven't grasped what that image means, peep the video below:



93 Til Infinity
Souls of Mischief

My Alphabet

I found this on a messageboard that I frequent. Basically, take each letter of the alphabet and use a word or phrase that pertains to you. I could do this all day everyday:

Anticipating reporting to work on Monday
Better than being laid off
Christ is my Lord and Savior
Diggin' my family
ETA Sigma Alumnae Chapter
Faithful and sisterly sawrahu
Georgia born and Georgia bred
Hell yeah when I die I'll be Georgia Dead
I's married nowq
Just 3.5 months
Kids are being contemplated
Loving coupledom first
Maybe a mommy one day
Nifty auntie today
Open roads
Protective napptural styles
Questing for a CDL
Red afros occasionally
SEC Football loving chick
The ultimate conference
UGA = best school and mascot
Wife of a Togolese
Xi! Chi! Xi! Chi! Xi Xi Xi! Chi! (from the flick Road Trip)
Yes, I like randomness
Zoos suck

My hubby has caught my Dominoes Fever. He's caught on to playing double 6's, and he actually beat me in a few hands. Of course, I won the overall games, but I'm sure he'll catch the strategies and will beat me. The next time we play, double 9's will be used. Thank God he caught on to one of my favorite past times.

Recently, my thoughts towards hubby lead me to compare our marriage to his first marriage. My mind knows that she's his ex for a good reason, but I just wonder if our marriage is better than the first time around. After all, we've been happily married for 3 months, and he's had no major complaints.

Hubby revealed to me that our marriage really is better than his first time around. We have fun with each other and live my the artistic motto hanging on our living room wall: "Live Well, Laugh Often, Love Much". One thing that throws me off is that he becomes bashful when I look at him with an obvious attraction in my eyes. He knows that I love him with facial hair, but I also appreciate his face when he shaves as he prefers. I finally asked him if his ex ever looked at him in the same way that I do. He simply said in his sexy accent, "Never." It seems that he has no idea how attractive his is and can be, even though my straight-no-chaser sister-in-law let him know that he's one of the most attractive Africans she's met. Fascinating.

Hubby always tells me, "I'm a very lucky man," when he talks about us and our marriage. I always respond, "No, we're two lucky people to have found each other." He has no idea how truly lucky I feel to have him.

it's after 1 am yet sleep eludes me. Allergies are still affecting me and my sleep patterns. Might just be a nasty sinus infection that I cannot shake for anything. Double doses of a.lka s.eltz.er cold, acv cocktails with cayenne pepper, and the.raf.lu liquid medicine have not helped yet. Like this chick at a previous job used to say about our shift, positions, and our employer, "This is some bullshit."

On another note, Hubby and I had a good time at the Cyclorama on Sunday. Who knew the world's largest oil painting paying homage to The Battle of Atlanta during the Civil War would be pretty decent for a black chick and her African hubby who digs history and anything resembling a documentary? Best of all, we weren't the only black people.

After, we entered Grant Park and chilled by a fountain on that beautiful day. I was astounded by how nice the park was. Grant Park was avoided for years by my family because the last time we were there in the 80's, the park smelled overwhelming like the adjacent Atlanta Zoo. Yeah, not a motivating factor to try it again, but there was no smell on this Sunday, about 20 years since my last visit. We'll be back again for our own picnic on a blanket.

George Bu$h might have been right...

to my chagrin. I called my bank's information number to listen to my bank balance. I knew I had money because it was pay day, and thanks to four months of insisting I get a 1 year review at my job, I earned a slight raise that equals to about $30 extra in each bi-monthly paycheck. Yay. Now I can afford gasoline. I dialed in my account data and actually heard an amount I wasn't read for. After more investigation, my research found that I had received my economic stiumulus payment! It's not a myth; they do exist. Thank God for those very low last two digits of my SSN; I wish patience to those of y'all whose SSN ends in 90+.

That $600 couldn't have come at a better time. I had just made an "appointment" with a good friend of my brother, NOPI. Thanks to my brother's natural male inclination to love everything about cars and his love of all things customized Honda, he's made an interesting array of friends including The Asianphile (AP). He's a lover of all things Asian considering he's a black man with a whole lot of Asian friends, he lives with two Cambodians, and he can even claim Cambodian heritage. AP introduced got me to go to that Chrimmah party I blogged about last year: http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com/2007/12/shredded-papaya-who-hell-knew-that.html

Plus, AP happens to be a very nice, honest, trustworthy, and hilarious mechanic with an affinity for Hondas and Acuras. Our appointement was set for yesterday just to get the valves on my engine readjusted because they were making too much noise. We decided to hook up at my parents' house where NOPI is currently residing. NOPI won't be with them forever because he has a fiancee and new baby. There's no date yet, but you best believe my Mom and Dad aren't moving a new family under their roof.

So what does that jackass D.ubya have to with this weekend? Because I had that $600, I was more willing to spend money on my car. I gave AP the set amount of money for working on my car at my location of choice, and we did all kinds of maintenance on my 201K+ mile Accord. It sounds a lot better, and I can tell that the minor tune-up made a difference in performance. If things go as I plan, my car will stick around for another 100K miles, minimum.

I'm satisfied with the current status of my car; therefore, I feel no fear in rolling out. I'll be on the road spending money in other cities. Even AP has extra money in his pocket thanks to the economic stimulus payment. He'll get more money soon because I want to get some more maintenance done on my car that has never been named. I shudder to think D.ubya might have been halfway right about anything.

Besides that, the weekend has been excellent so far, and it's not even over. Hubby and I are going to the Atlanta Cyclorama, which is basically a circular artistic depiction of the Civil War. Someone suggested he should see it because it''s a great Atlanta landmark. My mind leads me to wander if we'll be the only black people for miles..., but I'll go anyway. It's another Atlanta landmark I haven't been to yet, but at least hubby is willing to go out somewhere.

Most days, my eyes open, and one of the first thoughts to formulate is, "Thank you, Lord, for waking me up one more day. I will rejoice in this day." Then..., I have to come out of my sheets. My beautiful golden 400-thread count sheets. Delicious. Yummy. Luxuriously buttery cotton sheets warmed by me and my hubby. Most days, my body miraculously makes it across the room in five steps to slap the snooze button or reset the alarm for 30 more minutes. Then, my feet scramble back to the bed to snuggle with my hubby.

Most days, my boss sees me enter the office between 8:55 and 9:02 AM. The best thing about Mondays and Tuesdays is how busy things can be. Next thing you know, it's 5 PM with 1 hour left in the workday.

I still feel like it's 6:30, and I want to be back in bed snuggled in the spoon position with hubby. One of the best ways to start my day and end each night. I know the allergies are jacking with my head and making me light-headed... But I know part of my feelings are out of love for my hubby and teammate.

I thought that I had posted an entry in early April about all the changes coming with marriage and my family in general. Instead, I found about 15% of the saved post in the Drafts folder. How unfortunate (that's not what I really want to say).



Right now, I'm enjoying 3 months and 1 day of a great marriage. My husband is the best, and the decision to marry him is one of the best decisions I ever made. We're not perfect, but we are a team. I love my team!



Too bad I'm suffering from allergies. THere is a great chance that I'll be buying a mask to wear for this damn extemely high pollen count. Pollen allergies aren't unusual in Georgia, especially for transplants.That's why I've always felt like I should be immune to these allergies since I'm a born and bred Georgia Girl. Luckily, I didn't suffer when that yellow dust from the pine and oka trees fell over everything in the city like some plague. On Thursday, I notice the irritation, and my coworker noted that she saw on the news that there was a new pollen released in the air. I did a little research with The Weather Channel and learned that there was mulberry tree pollen starting on Thursday, the first day I felt these symptoms. Ain't that some isht???


So, I'm missing a community service project due to these allergies, and my house guest may have to go out tonight without me because I feel pretty badly. It sounds like a good case of hay fever because I sneezed all day at work yesterday, I've had headaches with the runny nose, and I'm weak. All because of a mulberry tree! I'm an Atlanta native; therefore, I should have immunity from this stuff. Damn!


I'm sooo praying for rain.

Banneker High students bury their pasts

Banneker High students bury their pasts
By MICHELLE E. SHAW
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Published on: 02/01/08



http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/atlanta/stories/2008/01/31/bury_0201.html?cxntlid=homepage_tab_newstab

I honestly don't recall a lot of madness when I was in school. There definitely was fights, cliques, and a tragedy for each graduating class. The Class of '93 did lose a star athlete due a stupid after school shooting on a rival school's property. Things happened in school, but we made it out pretty okay. I made it out pretty decent considering I only speak to one person that I graduated with consistently.

But things must have gone on a terrible downslide for the school to hold a mock funeral. I thought it was the most beautiful effort that the administration has ever done. We had assemblies and pep rallies, but nothing as poignant as this. I have to applaud the current faculty of Benjamin E. Banneker HS. Hopefully, this effort will lead to more parents and students now focusing on the really important matters that impact their lives.

unbelievable

my new husband is in the living room watching an installment of Roots:The Next Generation on our DVR. I'm not mad at him and he's not mad at me but we're just apart for now. I'm just in the next room laying quietly on the bed resting. What has made us separate so early in our wedded bliss?

Well, to put it plainly, we were being our happy newlywed selves. Somewhere in between, an old lower back injury arose like a phoenix, and hubby has been worrying and nursing me ever since. I even missed work over this.

The only good thing out of this so far is that I see that made an excellent choice in a mate because he's living up to the "in health and sickness" part quite well.

"I's married now!"

I'm sure the sherrif's deputies in Fulton County have heard that every week at the free group ceremonies held on Fridays. They definitely heard that classic line from "The Color Purple" as mon amour and I were finally pronounced husband and wife. We flashed rings and smiles after that magical kiss that sealed the deal.

My parents and best friend, Supa Chica, were there to witness the most important step I've taken to date. We went to Paschal's Restaurant afterward to celebrate the nuptials. Sweetie and I were both quite dapper in our suits. I shopped for days and couldn't find anythng new I wanted, so I wore one of my "Sigma Suits" in royal blue. Honey wore a very nice dark grey suit with a Burberry tie. We must have been glowing from the inside out.

But we got back home later, and it felt the same as the day before. I couldn't define what I excpected before, but I guess I was expecting both of us to magically float in the air like Fiona did at the end of "Shrek". We would be aglow because we finally became man and wife. Ehh...didn't quite happen that way, but we're still quite happy togehter. We had been calling one another "husband" and "wife" for some time, so we just literally put in on paper. No glowing. Just making it legal and getting ready for loads of advice and putting our hearts and minds together as we prepare to be together for the long haul.

A box of Ferrero Rocher. A carton of Edy's Mint and Cookies ice cream (the whipped kind with 1/2 the fat). Oatmeal cookies. Reduced sugar Froot Loops (don't really miss the regular sugared ones). Even peanut butter and strawberry jelly.

I opted to have a mango for a late night snack. It may not have been the best fruit choice in the middle of the night, but it was better than the above. I have to give myself a pat on the back for that choice.

All of the right choices haven't been made yet, but I still intend to shed pounds or at least be healthier again. I miss working out, and my clothes are fitting snugger in the unflattering sense. The one thing that will make this difficult is my fiancee. He's not sabotaging me intentionally, but he has twice told me, "I don't want you lose any weight." It floored me the first time he said the words that every fat girl wants to hear a man say about her. But I've embraced the idea that he loves all of my full-figured self with my imperfections that he finds to be beautiful.

But I find myself embracing his words to the point that I'm being a bit of a pig in the sweets department. That's really not acceptable when I know good and well that I want to be healthier.

What's really unacceptable and should be a motivator for all is what I saw on Monday's Oprah. Actually, that's what I was watching late Wednesday night thanks to my Comcastic DVR. Where have you been all my life? The show topic was the obligatory January weight loss discussion. She gave a variety of statistics. One fact is that Goliath Casket, Inc. generates great money for the owners because so many obese people are dying. Goliath Casket said they sold 33 extra-large caskets in their first year; they are well beyond that in these years.

When I saw those caskets that measured up to 54" wide, my heart dropped. Although my weight has stayed in a general area for some time, I could wind up in that same type of coffin if I don't get in control of myself. Knowing that brought tears to my eyes that didn't fall and a sadness that I never recognized. I'm definitely not large enough for such a wide casket today, but something has to change so it won't have to be something for my loved ones to consider in the future.

I know the answers. I just have to follow through. Bottom line. In the meanwhile, I have to plan for my nuptials.