My Life In the Sunshyne...and other places

Derrion Albert

2009-09-28T22:29:00.008-05:00

This mix of sorrow and outrage cannot be ignored. The last time I felt so horribly was when I was driving home from an Atlanta suburb in rainy conditions on a dark country road. I was taking it slowly when a huge raccoon came from nowhere and crossed my path. Being the animal lover I am, I truly wanted to slam on brakes or swerve to avoid killing the critter. For all I know, it could be a mother rushing off to her babies. But I was stuck in a curvy, slick road in a dark area. The only viable option I could choose was to proceed to take the life of this animal. I heard and felt the impact and was devastated that I ended an animal's life. But what else could I do: risk ending my own life in the woods because my car could've swerved where no passerby would've seen me? I prayed for forgiveness and felt better by the next evening.

The life or death choices surrounding Derrion Albert do not compare to my experience, but the contrasts outrage me. A 16-year old black male honor student in Chicago was senselessly killed on his way home from school. Not by a bus or a car but other young black boy involved in gangs. Derrion's violent end was captured on video that mortified me as well as thousands of other YouTube users. I cannot imagine what it was like for Derrion to endure strikes and blows to the head by fists, feet, railroad ties, and large wooden planks.

Worst of all, help did not come to him until he was knocked unconscious for a second time. There were people that appeared to try to help him, but it seems other gang members were ready to beat up anyone trying to get near Derrion. When it was all over, a group of people picked him up and tried to help him. They called his name in vain attempts to wake up the young man, but his bright future, like so many others before, was snuffed out.

I want to cry, scream, and wish prisoner-style justice on these young thugs. The kind of justice they reserve for men who beat women and child molesters. I've heard of this type of violence before, but this was the first time I've ever seen anything so violent with my own naive eyes. If you haven't seen it, I have a graphic video below. The censored version is disturbing enough, so there's no way I could post the uncensored version.

http://www.myfoxchicago.com/dpp/news/metro/video_derrion_albert#

I pray that Derrion is able to rest in peace and his death may actually lead to a turn around on Chicago's Southside. So far, people have come together to hold a vigil in Chicago. The cops will reported be present for a couple of more days and longer if needed. However, what will hopefully happen is more people on the Southside will be more personally involved with raising their children better and providing positive reinforcement even if the children are not their own. Maybe more people will just give a damn and come together to end the foolishness that plagues our nation. Just maybe.

And maybe Oprah will try to have an impact on the Southside of Chicago. My friend who lives on the Southside says she has nothing to do with that side of town, but we all know how worldwide Ms. Winfrey is. Maybe President Obama will also address this in some way since he used to serve that area. I would hope he could just speak to the people while he's busy addressing the International Olympic Committee to get the 2016 Summer Olympics into Chicago. Talk about poor prioritizing by a city...

Even after expressing myself, I still need to have a good cry.

News Article from LA Times http://tinyurl.com/yclncbg

Very appropriate music thanks to the suggestion by my friend in Chicago:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jxyYP_bS_6s

Procrastination :: My Kryptonite

2009-06-04T23:58:00.002-05:00

All of my life, distractions of any kind have always been able to capture my attention better than what the things that really deserve my effort and energy. I might be wrong, but I'll blame my being born on the cusp of Cancer for that. "Men in Black II" is aiight but not so great that it justifies putting off my studies. Specifically, I'll blame special effect and computer graphics on this hour of procrastination.

See, the idea of "everything will work out...it always does" has plagued me forever. Usually, that idea has worked in my favor 92% of the time. But then I have to remember that I don't live in a sitcom.

So, after a 5-hour nap since returning home, checking Fa.cebook, and watching randomness on TV (I don't get Conan or Jimmy Kimmell on late night), I'll pull out the CDL manual and study. My future and sanity are at stake. I'll end the night praying for courage and strength in the next month. I will need it with the changes I see coming.

This link below is so fitting for how I'll feel about the changes I forsee....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7edeOEuXdMU

Tomfoolery of the feminine kind

2009-05-21T21:41:00.005-05:00

Illness and injury have beaten me down all week long. To be more graphic and honest, I experienced one of the worst menstrual cycles I have had in years on top of a recurring back injury. I've been applying heat and ice packs at the same time. Plus, I scavenged my medicine cabinet for any muscle relaxers from previous injuries. God was good to me when I found some expired pills that I had to take, and they proved heavenly. My body probably cannot completely figure out which way is up with all these treatments.

At one point, nausea, lightheadness, and dizziness hit me all at one sad time during the workday. My body temperature started to rise, too. The first aid cabinet upstairs only had bandages, ointments, and alcohol swabs but no thermometers or other tools to help me out. So, to save myself from further injury aggravation that could make me cuss, I get on the elevator to go back to my area one floor below, and that's when the fun really began.

The doors closed, and I couldn't look at myself in the brassy doors. I just laid my head on the wall for what seemed like an eternity in a moving sauna greased with molasses. I swear my body was nearly on fire by the time the doors opened. Two of my male colleagues just stared at me as I exited the elevator fanning myself with my hand and rushing to the ladies' room. The cold water couldn't come out of the faucet fast enough as I started splashing my face with liquid lusciousness. The wet spots on my blouse never mattered one bit as my body thankfully started cooling down. I had to wet some paper towels to take with me because I couldn't risk spontaneous combustion before I returned to me desk.

When I barely made it back to my desk without fainting, my inner slacker immediately thought, "What da hayle? I gotta get outta here! I'm sick!" Then, another cool coworker saw me and asked if I was okay.

I'm positive I had a pathetic look on my pale face as I replied, "Noooo. I'm super hot for no good damn reason."

She quickly replies, "Maybe you're having a private summer."

Then, my face had to read, "Bulls--t". Private summer as in menopausal hot flash? No. Way. I quietly advised, "That can't be right. I'm on my cycle right now having the worst cramps ever. Hot flashes are only for old ladies that forgot who Aunt Flo is."

My co-worker, who is a couple of years under me but pretty mature, coolly and easily schools me that hot flashes can happen during a cycle for non-menopausal women. What the hell? That's news to me. Mama never talked to me about that, and I don't recall that being a subject during high school health class or even a daytime talk show. Ever. This is some hogwash joke my co-worker's trying to play on me. But a few minute later, a second co-worker tells me the same exact madness about hot flashes during a cycle.

This newsflash just shattered my little world. The situation felt bad enough when I realized one of life's secrets had just finally been revealed to me. My perspective worsened when I recognized that my maturing early thirties body had betrayed me once again. I already deal with acne breakouts from time to time. Hot flashes, too? Hot flashes. For me? For real? Damn.

Thankfully, I survived my internal betrayal and the urges to take the rest of the day off. But can I trust my body again after this? Are there more jokes and trickery for me to endure? Well, if there are more shenanigans ahead, I'll make the wise choice to endure them since this body is the only one God blessed me with, kinks and all. I'll just be sure to keep sipping ice water.

I swear this isn't whining....

2009-05-18T20:15:00.005-05:00

It's been an unfortunate while since I've posted, but I've been in the midst of so many things. Like anyone with ears and/or eyes already knows, I earned my CDL. That has become one of my greatest accomplishments to date. However, coming across a great opportunity to use it has not been so easy to come by. Honestly, I'm not being picky and refusing job offers. This economy is so hard that there's drivers with years of experience still looking for work, so it's kinda hard for a newbie to compete against experienced drivers.

On top of that, my husband and I have entered the adult world of house shopping. It's not a euphemism for anything kinky. We're seriously house hunting. Interestingly, I am actually completely on board with this despite my fears that my credit wasn't good enough for a loan and my husband's desire to live in...Decatur. *semi-shudder*

Don't get me wrong or call me a snob. Any person raised on the Southside of Atlanta will easily tell you that Decatur seems more like a different world than another part of Atlanta just 30 minutes away. The difference has always been monumental to a kid like me who likes the laidback feel of College Park compared to the crowded hustle and bustle of the Eastside. But our journey into homebuying has shown me that a nice side of Decatur really does exist. (Trust that I did not look anywhere near Memorial Drive because I cannot shake that stigma for anything.) Plus, there's seems to be an energy in that city. A Hustler's Spirit that extends beyond slanging drugs to reach towards legal dreams of entrepreneurship, moving up the corporate ladder. A Go Get 'Em edge that you cannot ignore and have to acknowledge and respect or be suffocated by. So, whenever we buy, our residence will very likely be in Decatur after all, and we will be infected with that energy.

So, houseshopping, jobhunting, and still growing into my role as a wife and a Christian have consumed my life. Some things that hold a dear place in my heart have temporarily taken a backseat until I can step into the next phase of my life. I refuse to sever any ties because I will return.

But there are three things that have an unbearable hold on me and continue to hold me back. Working at the current job that will not lead to a viable career; knowing that my writing skills take a complete backseat to everything else; and my weight issues. If anyone pays attention to my FaceBook status updates, I'm frequently drowning in a sea of sub-mediocrity. The most rampant offenders remind of those fish and creatures that can only be found with special deep-sea diving equipment, so they have no business being out of water...except to make my whole department so drained that we can only return home each day and just regroup, rest, and return the next day for more tidal waves of tomfoolery.

I feel so spent after each workday that I don't blog or write anything or make any efforts towards self-improvement. Well, except my water aerobics days. But I need more than just those three days to get past this weight that's holding me back. The part that fascinates me is I know what I need to do in terms of eating right and exercising more frequently. It just happens to be difficult to get up the motivation and gumption to do it all because of how deflating and depressing my current work situation is. Sometimes, I feel like there's a smooth silky rope around my neck that feels comfortable at first, but then there's an anchor on the other end of the rope that keeps me in that sea of idiocy.

Despite all of the seeming pessimism, my hopes and dreams of moving forward remain. Eventually, I'll get to move forward, but I don't intend to wait too long. Everything will improve with time, so I'm not completely deflated. My hope-filled heart will keep beating, and my dreams will become reality soon enough. I just hope I won't have to wait very long.

Speaking of being uplifted, I found the original "I Am the Black Gold of the Sun" by the psychedelic soul group Rotary Connection which included the incomparable, unforgettable songstress Minnie Ripperton.

Get uplifted, people. Check out the Nuyorican Soul cover from 1997, too.

ROTARY CONNECTION-"I AM THE BLACK GOLD OF THE SUN" (1971)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DR_NMtBEj4

Nuyorican Soul - I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun (4 Hero Remix) song starts at 0:38
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIzqQOs_IrI

Don't tell me God ain't real because I PASSED!!!

2009-03-23T16:14:00.005-05:00

After entering the gate without hitting a curb possibly hitting a gate, the examiner asked me to stop the vehicle, park the truck, and meet him inside. No indication of a pass or fail. I waited and waited about 30 minutes on pins and needles. I felt confident that I passed the driving portion because the pre-trip went well, and the backing maneuvers were flawless as I earned no points. When the examiner came back with that sealed envelope with my test results, I nearly tackled him as I rushed to receive my reward and embraced him. I hugged errybody in the room!!! I squealed with delight as the fruits of my labor and sacrifice were finally completed.

I'm very much so on my way to being a pretty trucker, and all the praise goes to God. I prayed so much in the past 24 hours, and I kept encountering scriptures that would speak to my situation despite the worry. Today, I visited a site and found that Mark 11:24 says, "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours (http://www.christnotes.org/dbv.php?d=2009-03-23)". Oddly, I prayed and request prayer that I wouldn't have to perform parallel parking because it proved difficult for me as I was often hit or miss on completing the maneuver. However, I also prayed that if I received parallel, then I knew God would guide me through it because He already helped he obtain the knowledge and skills set; I would just have to apply what I know. I prayed from Him to be with me again when I had to perform the task, and I pretty much KILLED it. It was perfectly in the box, and I knew I had passed the maneuvers...with no points!!!

I don't have any jobs lined up yet because things will take time and have some other things I have to accomplish first. However, I hope to be working in the field quite soon. I will stay with God on this part of plan as He has already proven He is the one to be with on this thing called Life. I'm so blessed today, and I hope this has blessed someone, anyone who wants to be a trucker or anything else they dream to be. It's never too late, and it's never too much if you go with God. He never left me and was just waiting for me to come to Him. Look what happened when I did. I will be a pretty trucker in the very near future. God is sooo cool. :)

NOTE: I found this awesome graphic at http://www.girlscantwhat.com/2008/03/05/meet-trucker-pamela-febbo/. Found it today, and LOVE IT!

WOOOOOOSAHHHHHH!!! I'll be a pretty trucker yet

2009-03-08T08:22:00.002-05:00

My original intentions were to blog every single week about my experience in the Commercial Truck Driving course at Dekalb Tech. Wouldn't it be great to know what the school entails, how great (or possibly not so great) the different instructors are, etc.??? Yes, that was a great idea, but I'm so busy with a 40 hour job and 30 hours of school.... That idea died.

But this Monday will mark the beginning of week 9, and I couldn't be happier!!! "Thrilled" would not fully express how excited I eel about the progress I made yesterday. The backing maneuvers that have been stressing and taunting me are finally becoming fun now that I can complete the maneuvers. My spirit was as bright and glowy as the sky was on yesterday's spring like afternoon. Granted, the sweat rolled down my forehead and back from working so hard on a warm day with no A/C. (Most trucks have A/C, but I was so focused since 9 AM that I forgot to turn it on later.) My body feels different levels of soreness I haven't felt before. But I'm much closer to becoming a driver after all.

Driving the truck is a thrill of its own. I love being a cute girly girl operating that big vehicle with little or no trouble. Being behind the wheel sitting in "the hot seat" with my instructor makes my happiness bubble over. I'm all smiles when I'm driving (unless it's a Mack truck). Basically, my spirit is overjoyed to be doing what I've always wanted to do.

The only thing that could make me happier will be earning the actual CDL. Pray for me, people.

Such a truckin' lady

2009-02-01T05:13:00.002-05:00

Excitement sounds like a pretty good word to describe how I feel about the end of the third week of the rest of my life. I should throw in anxious, eager, sore, surprised, (damn near) discombobulated, and spent. That's where some of my classmates are as we're currently learning our backing techniques. Offset backing is a bitch, and I bet her sisters, parallel parking and alley backing won't be nice either.

But taking my life in a brand new direction with my Commercial Truck Driving course far outweighs these initial frustrations. This change is HURGE (yes, big enough for an extra letter) when you consider I'm trying to stay sane while balancing my full-time job and marriage while worried about trying to get healthy. Unfortunately, I have to sacrifice my previous weight loss efforts to balance 40 hours of work, 30 hours of school, and fitting in 5 - 6 hours of sleep. Most days, I honestly don't know if I'm coming or going, but that's the sacrifice I'll make for my sanity in the long run.

Today has a bittersweet element to it. My brother would have been 38. I can't help wondering if he would look at me with surprise, admiration, or confidence at my attempt to seriously pursue the career I've dreamt of since I was 18. Of course he would have some jokes because that's just who he was, and everyone would laugh. Who would have thought his zealous little sister that drove our mom's blue Dodge Dynasty like "Dukes of Dynasty" would want to drive for her career? I don't think he'd believe this same sister that wrecked cars as a hobby and collected speeding tickets like a baseball cards would want to be a professional operator. He'd be cracked up at that career move, but I like to think he'd be impressed that I was choosing a career path outside the box for most women.

My brother made his own interesting choices in his short time here, and I am still making interesting choices in my 31st year. Actually, getting engaged after 3 months of dating, marrying after 6 months of knowing the man, and deciding to pursue a career that takes a woman out of her house and away from her loving husband of one year might be way more than just "interesting". Oftentimes, I can't help noticing he had a family, a home, loads of friends, extreme confidence, and great finances before he was taken too early at 27. I'm still not there at 31, but I'm hoping I can make myself and my family proud in the next weeks and months.

Old school shout out to my brother Eddie Cooler. We'll never forget you EVER. Whenever I hear this song, it makes me think of how cool he always was.

MC Shy D ~ "I've Gotta Be Tough"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mY2oHSIBhqQ

To leave or not to leave...that is SOOO the question.

2009-01-10T23:53:00.005-05:00

A former colleague once told me I shouldn't put so much reality into my blog. Well, I guess if my entries deal with co-workers, then her advice makes sense. Otherwise, what I type must reflect me and the things in life that are affecting me.

Like the 7.2% unemployment rate and how it's affecting my rationale in the midst of my euphoria before I start my 10-week Commercial Truck Driving course.

Lord knows I have prayed before walking into a job in the past, and I still find myself doing that in my current position at the company I label as "a terrible place in [a suburban area north of Atlanta]". Prayers will definitely cross my lips on Monday when I walk into work after a nice weeklong vacation. More like drag myself through those transparent doors and fighting back tears when I press the up button for the elevator.

More than anything, I want to walk away from that job without a second thought. Just leave behind the insanity disguised as commerce. Well, not all is terrible at my job because I sincerely dig my manager. If it wasn't for her, I would not have taken off the very first week of the year, but she understood why I had to. But even with her being supportive and understanding, I really, really want to leave that place behind. The idea of quietly resigning fascinates me even more as my future in truck driving is only 10 weeks away from being my reality. If the image of me drooling like Homer Simpson at the idea of resigning comes to mind, you're not too far off.

Yes, I want to walk out on faith that God will be with me as I study to drive trucks professionally as a full-time student. But reality smacks me in the face when I watch CNN or read articles like the one above or this one about job security. God may want us to walk out on faith in some situations, but I'm sure He doesn't want any of His children to be foolish in this economy. As much as I despise and abhor my job, there are literally thousands (if not millions) of people that would love to sit in my (rather spacious) cubicle, answer the litany of calls and emails from not so bright customers, and earn my rather decent paycheck and benefits. As much as I can't wait to get away from that place, I have to wait and personify the virtue of patience. I must.

After all, the economy has affected so many industries and downsized thousands of employees. Trucking was also affected. So, it would honestly be a decision of tomfoolery to leave now. But I will continue to fantasize about it as I play Megamillions... and endure the next ten weeks of an intense schedule.

Pray for me, people.

2009 is gonna be sooo divine

2009-01-01T03:39:00.005-05:00

will be my year. After all, I made it through 8 years of Bush. If I can survive that with God's blessings, I can survive anything after that. The same is true for any and everybody else. Tears damn near came when I realized the year of Obama had arrived after all the time under Bush.

But so much more is yet to come for me. After all, I ended 2008 by earning my CDL Class A Permit. Truck driving school will start on January 12, and I'll be striving full-steam ahead towards my future and my goals. The road ahead is guaranteed to be interesting with a full-time job and nearly full-time school, but anything worth having will be very much worth this sacrifice. Anticipation is high for the weeks ahead.

In the meantime, I've figured out just some of the things that will rest next to the 2008 stop sign as I keep on truckin' in 2009. Thanks to my homie, "Chyna", for the inspiration.

Procrastinating in developing my relationship with God. My delay has more to deal with the fact that we're always told that God is always there with you. Always. Even if you turn away from Him, He's always there for you whenever you turn back to Him. In theory, you can just hang out in the devil's playground until I start collecting on my 401K. Trifling but honest. I know my relationship with Him can be so much more, especially since He's been so good to me in 2008, so I'm gonna stop putting off my efforts.

Trifling neighbors with no concept of time or courtesy. Hubby and I love the downstairs unit we're renting in a duplex, but it happens to come with ignant PhD. candidates not from the US who just turned off their music at 3:55 AM. I don't know if the cops ever came or not, but they're more ignant than any of the neighbors I had in those shoddy townhouse units my brother, NOPI, and I rented in East Point. Translation: These European kids are more ignant than my ghetto-fabulous black neighbors.

Weight gain. I'm trying to lose right now, but there will be no additional gain.

Tolerating the friends/family that do not have any concern for me

Dispair over the people in my life that don't get me. There's great people that get me for real.

Self-pity and self-doubt

Being stressed by my job...that doesn't get stressed by me

Hubby's hangups that have nothing to do with me. I will not keep banging my head into the wall when I've pointed out the obvious that should dismiss his hangups.

Any of my residual hangups that have yet to be determined

One of my credit cards!!!

Fa La La La La My Ass

2008-11-23T21:05:00.009-05:00

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.

2008-11-17T22:18:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-11-04T01:45:00.002-05:00

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!!!

2008-11-01T19:53:00.005-05:00

Passin me by (Fly as pie remix) - Pharcyde

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!!!

2008-10-08T06:01:00.004-05:00

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

2008-09-21T09:29:00.004-05:00

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

2008-09-13T18:10:00.003-05:00

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!

2008-09-09T05:40:00.007-05:00

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....

2008-08-22T00:41:00.004-05:00

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!

2008-08-20T22:25:00.004-05:00

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

2008-08-18T16:32:00.005-05:00

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.

2008-08-17T00:32:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-08-12T06:09:00.004-05:00

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

2008-08-06T21:51:00.004-05:00

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?

2008-07-18T06:16:00.003-05:00

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

2008-07-05T00:11:00.002-05:00

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

2008-06-24T21:44:00.005-05:00

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"

2008-06-18T20:06:00.006-05:00

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

2008-06-16T12:07:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-06-11T16:51:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-05-25T23:01:00.005-05:00

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"

2008-05-20T12:44:00.005-05:00

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

2008-05-18T21:16:00.004-05:00

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

2008-05-11T16:34:00.004-05:00

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.

2008-05-08T00:24:00.004-05:00

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...

2008-05-04T11:57:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-04-29T16:18:00.004-05:00

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.

2008-04-26T07:54:00.006-05:00

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

2008-02-01T16:30:00.000-05:00

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

2008-01-28T22:12:00.000-05:00

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.

2008-01-27T13:50:00.000-05:00

"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.

2008-01-16T23:20:00.000-05:00

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.

2008-01-01T21:03:00.000-05:00

Everything is moved in thanks to my ambitious fiancee and my very, very helpful 17 year old nephew. All that mass and energy came in very handy on Saturday and Sunday, and I'm so glad he was here for me. I'm sure he enjoyed the cash I gave him, too. The cool thing was that he wasn't doing it to make money because money was never discussed. He was just being a nice young man.

So, he's involved for my quality life decisions for the new year. I don't beleive in New Year's resolutions since attending a power Watch Night Service many years ago. We all know that resolutions fall by the wayside usually by February but no later than April. So, I'm making quality life decsions to change how things go in my life. One thing I plan to do is spend more time with said nephew. He's farther away now with the move, but he'll be a HS graduate soon, and he deserves to be taken more and more as an adult by his auntie. I'll give that a shot as he prepares to go off to college in the fall.

This New Years Eve was pretty cool but eventful. My mom, dad, brother NOPI, his girlfriend, her mother, my helpful nephew, my oldest sister with her hubby and three kids, my sis-in-law with the four kids, two family friends, and fiancee and I all gathered at my parents' house to ring in the New Year. We tried to avoid the craziness of drunk drivers and firing guns in drunk revelers hands. Fiancee finally met my eldest sister, and she and hubby approved of their initial meeting.

We started counting down to midnight, and I think I'm the only one that witnesses my brother ask his preggers girlfriend to be his wife. He was shaky as he put the ring on her finger, but he made it happen...while we were screaming, "8! 7!..." Once we calmed down, my sis in law pointed out that NOPI didn't explain the significance of that particular ring. Sis in law composed herself and as she explained that the ring on her finger was the same ring that our eldest brother proposed with many years ago. In honor of his memory and his commitment, NOPI decided to use that same ring. It made NOPI's friend misty, and my eldest sister had to step outside with the emotion, but it was a beautiful sentiment.

This New Year has just been beautiful, and I don't know if I can imagine how much better this year is going to be. After all, I have a great guy that has no shame in preparing a plate of food for me and bringing it to bed for me. What did I do to deserve that?

Congrats are in order....

2007-12-30T10:09:00.000-05:00

I'M ENGAGED!

I'm very much in love with my wonderful fiancee. How did this happen when I never blogged about him? Well...that was the plan. This year, I finally learned some discretion when blogging , and look at the beautiful results. (Um, that ain't us to the left.)

I really don't have time to make one of my usually long posts because we're in the middle of moving in together. (NOTE: I drove a big old Chevy truck to move my first load and was so HAPPY the whole time I was driving. No one else wanted to drive all of that heavy duty metal. Hence, I haven't given up on the idea of truck driving.) Shacking up was never in my plans, but life doesn't always go according to plan. I've always heard that if you really want to make God laugh, then tell him your plans.

I wonder what will happen on the kids front because I've told people for the longest that I don't want kids.

Shredded Papaya + _____ = who the hell knew that???

2007-12-25T09:58:00.000-05:00

These papayas make me wish I was in another environment involving a beach, cocktails, and my man with Christmas songs playing on a small radio.

Instead of snuggling with my sweetie on Christmas Eve, I actually wound up hanging out with my brother, NOPI. His pregnant girlfriend was helping her mother with Christmas cooking and wasn't leavng the house at that point. So, in a not so completely odd move, NOPI invites me to an "Asian birthday party" with one of his homeboy's friends.

"Everybody's cool," NOPI assures me. "If you're cool, then everyone's cool with you."

I had nothing else I was doing, so I rolled out with NOPI. I hadn't been on the passenger side of his driving skills in a while, and I forgot THE most critical and salient rule of riding with NOPI: don't look up or out. The second you look up, he's pulling one of his moves, and you're finding anything to hold on to that'll keep you safely upright and that scream in your lungs. He knows what he's doing. The only major accident he's had lately was because his passenger said, "WHOA!" for no reason, and NOPI was hit in the side.

We get to extreme south Atlanta and find a standard recently-built apartment complex with several Asians hanging out around a grill on the bottom patio. There's more people inside just chilling. For all I know, more than one of them might be 30, but everyone looked between 18 and 26. I was probably wrong, just like most folks are wrong about my age. I just decided to fit in and just have a cool time.

I was shy like I normally am in the beginning because I'm soaking in the atmosphere. Like NOPI said, everyone was cool and welcoming. They made sure we had enough to eat and drink. Even the birthday boy was grilling all kinds of meat awaiting his 30th birthday on the 25th. I still envy that dude's Farrah Fawcett tresses that reached past his shoulders.

Eventually, I was offered a He.ineken. I've had it before and did not appreciate the watery taste. Who da hayle likes that stuff? Dude was insistent, but I politely declined. Then, he offered St. Pauli Girl. My mind starts working and asks where is the soda? I don't have to get drunk because it's a party. But that inner social butterfly in the cocoon eeks out, "Why the hell not?" It's Chrimmah, and I'm with some friendly Asians that seem to mostly be from Laos (that's what NOPI thinks). That one bottle was delicious and hit the spot. Somewhat sweet but definitely has a bite to it. That says a lot for a non-beer drinker to be all excited about it. I now have a new beer to imbibe in! That and Icehouse.

Someone insisted on offering weed, but that's not my style at all. Besides, I've smelled weed in the past.... That was some special Rastafarian superstar marijuana that I'd imagine a group of Rastas might share in the spirit of Kwanzaa because they don't celebrate no fake Christmas holiday. I politely declined and assured my new friend, "I need to keep my job on Wednesday." Come to find out, this dude owns a body shop. No random testing for him, and that's good for him.

But everyone and everything was so cool. Even the little kids were adorable and running between the kids' room and the living room. It really was all love, and I think I'd hang with them again.

12 AM comes while Birthday Boy is grilling, and we all wish him a Happy 30th Birthday. Then we wish each other a Merry Christmas. No gift exchange. No carols. But I did assure Birthday Boy that 30 will be the best year yet. It will make you forget how great you thought 25 or 20 was.

Unless they break out the shredded papaya.

According to templeofthai.com, "Green papaya has a very mild, almost bland, taste, but it is the medium through which robust flavor ingredients take body and form. It picks up the hot, sour, sweet and salty flavors, giving them a unique crisp and chewy texture unlike that of any other vegetable. When made into salad, you wouldn't know that it was mild and timid; you remember it only as bold and spicy." How fine and dandy. Even more culinary delights. Now, the fried rice dish with the pork, fresh herbs and maybe more papaya was off the chain!!! Will I ever find that in a Chinese restaurant? Probably not.

But the papaya salad... After mixing the shreds will all kinds of seasonings using a mortar and pestle...

...

...

It smelled like a menstrual cycle. Very. Heavy. Cycle. Where the kids better fend for themselves because Mama can't take these cramps and needs to just lay in bed with a heating pad waiting for the drugs to take effect. I can't make this stuff up. I actually believed it was me for a moment, but then I had to consider why am I just smelling this right now. I tried to be polite and eat the papaya salad on my plate because I could taste the boldness and spiciness. Then, I took a second bite, and all of the papaya salad returned to the plate before making it to the best spot for it: the trash. I'm all for diversity and new experiences, but I never would've imagined all five of my senses being flooded by such a "unique blend of flavors".

It's Christmas Time In Hollis Queens!

2007-12-24T11:52:00.000-05:00

Merry Chrimahannukwanzaakuh!!!

Almost everyone I know has to know most of the lyrics to this classic Chrimmah ditty from the legendary Run D.M.C.. It makes you readily identify with your own holiday experience as a black kid in the '80s. We didn't have chicken for years, but we always had collard greens seasoned with hamhocks and succulent mac and cheese that turned you into a pig because you had to have seconds and sometimes thirds. Well, times have evolved, and the greens might be seasoned with smoked pig tail (I swear you can find it, and it's healthier than a hamhock) or the ubiquitous smoked turkey wing. I've had cornish hen, but I far prefer ham any day.

But imagine my shock last night when my sweetie and I are driving, and "Christmas in Hollis" comes on the radio. I'm jamming, and I ask my foreign-born sweetie, "Do you know this Christmas rap song?" I'm not surprised when he listens for a second and quietly answers, "No." It's possible to not know this Christmas song when you're raised across the Atlantic Ocean, but I just know he knows all about the legendary Kings of Rap. "Well, this song is by Run D.M.C.. You know Run D.M.C.?" Sweetie processes the info and quietly replies, "No. I know Fifty Cent, Snoop Dogg..."

This shatters my world. Don't get me wrong. He's still my sweetie because we have exchanged "I love you" too many times to count. However, it blows my mind that he doesn't have the same passion for music that I have. It's almost impossible to comprehend that he doesn't recognize the names of Run DMC or Notorious BIG or the songs of 2Pac. If he doesn't know those minimums of hip hop history, I know we can't really get to deep into The Roots, Common, A Tribe Called Quest, or even OutKast. Grammy winning OutKast.

So, I'm taking this as a chance to teach my baby all about the great music that I know and love. It makes me cringe that music hasn't touched him the way that it has me. He has introduced me to some of his music...but not much because he likes this weird group called Europe with their 80s hit song, "The Final Countdown". It's from his childhood, so I can't hate on it. But the only reason I know this song is because of some cheesy car dealership commercial. Bless my baby's heart.

Then again, I can't stay frustrated because he's not completely frustrated with my messy bedroom. He was in shock to see how junky I am, but he's accepted that's me. If we're going to be together for the long haul, I have a lot of work to do, and sweetie has a lot of toleration and patience to exhibit. And we both have a lot of teaching to do. A lot.

Christmas In Hollis - Run-D.M.C. (HQ Audio)

2007-12-10T20:11:00.000-05:00

Vick sentenced to 23 months for
dogfighting

RICHMOND, Virginia (CNN) --
Michael Vick, once one of the highest paid players in the National Football League, was sentenced to 23 months in prison for financing a dogfighting ring and helping to kill pit bulls that did not fight aggressively.

Vick's stunning downfall from NFL superstar to disgraced dogfighting defendant culminated Monday in a 90-minute sentencing hearing in federal court in Richmond, Virginia.

Vick was dressed in a black-and-white striped prison suit and apologized to his family and to the judge.

"You need to apologize also to the millions of young people who look up to you," U.S. District Judge Henry E. Hudson retorted.

"I am willing to deal with the consequences and accept responsibility for my actions," Vick continued, as about a dozen of his friends and family members looked on.

But Judge Hudson appeared to be unmoved. "I'm convinced it was not a momentary lack of judgment on your part. You were a full partner," he told Vick.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/law/12/10/vick.sentenced/index.html

I blasted Michael Vick when he first got in trouble because he was experiencing a clear example of bad decision-making. I swear "bad decision-making" must be the overall theme of 2007 that no one seems to escape. Hopefully we can shake that matter in '08.

At this point, there's really no matter of kicking him further. He's already down for the count while facing 23 months in prison - maybe less with good behavior. The man is a shining example of all that can go wrong with one bad decision leading to another and another in a cycle whose viciousness can rival a down and dirty dogfight ending in a mauled animal. Even as he's preparing to do his time, he'll have to face the very real possibility (not necessarily a likelihood) that he won't play in the NFL because no one wants a public relations nightmare because they signed a talented quarterback associated with a violent and disgusting "past-time" like dogfighting. Vick's got enough troubles, so he doesn't need me or anyone else riding him. He isn't at rock-bottom, but he's pretty far down.

Hopefully, he'll see this as a beginning instead of just an end. His life really can turn around from here. He doesn't have to have a place in history as the fastest-falling celebrity. Maybe he'll become a symbol of forgiveness, reflection, insightfulness, growing in your walk with God. Just maybe. There are thousands (probably millions) of people that strongly dislike him, but there's thousands that will support him. Not just as an athlete but maybe as a human being that slipped, fell short of God, but had the god sense God gave him to finally do right and PUSH (pray until something happens) forward.

So many of us should be able to see ourselves in this kind of parallel. I know I've made some bad moves in the past. Who says I'll be done making bad decisions? The bad decision may not be so widely broadcast, but I pray that any of us that makes a bad decision has a support system: Mom, Dad, any relatives, our spouse or lover, life partner, pee wee basketball coach, best friend from elementary school, the matronly church sister with the biggest hats. Anyone that can see past the mistake and bad decision and stand by you.

P.S. I tried to find an image for redemption, forgiveness, faithfulness, regret, etc. Nothing quite worked - not even a cross (because what if Vick finds Buddhism, Judaism, or Islam to be his religious foundation...?).

That b**** ain't got nuttin' on Karma

2007-12-09T09:38:00.000-05:00

Tuesday went nice and normal. I'm working hard trying to get my tasks done before quitting time. Of course, if it's not done, all of that stuff will be waiting for me on Wednesday. Just like it was waiting on me when I returned from my 4 pm lunch at 5 pm. Late lunches are preferred because when you come back from lunch, there's only 1 - 3 hours left to work. Pretty cool.

Well, my boss lady calls me into the office at 5:15 PM, but I get stuck with this crazy lady on the line who doesn't hear me well, gives the wrong answer, and it stretches our phone call out to about 5:45. Grrrrrr. Boss Lady is really understanding because she knows I'm working hard, but this meeting with the lady that signs my timesheets cannot wait until Wednesday. I'm kinda nervous because my lead has been with Boss Lady for quite some time. Maybe they've been meeting to discuss how much more slowly I get my work done than others. All kinds of thoughts are racing through my head like Elroy Jetson flying with a jetpack on his back while high on speed.

Boss Lady just straight shoots: "I had to let 'that Biatch' go. So it'll just be you and the lead for a while, but we're gonna move the other person over and start training her."

In case you forgot, 'that Biatch' is the chick who always gave me a hard time because she was obviously sooo much better at the job than I was. She's first-tier while I'm barely hanging onto second-tier status. She's Hennessey Privelege while I better be glad to be Paul Masson. (More about her at http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com/2007/10/co-workers-can-be-funny-as-all-get-out.html and http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com/2007/05/being-pressed-must-be-pressing.html.) Actually, we started getting along for the past week before she was let go. Of course, I was keeping my eyes WIDE open because I know how fake she is, but the objective in getting along was making the work week as easy as possible by minimizing the drama whereas she thrived on drama.

When I heard the news about 'that Biatch', I was quite shocked to say the least. Boss Lady tried to ask me a question about moving the other person over, but my words had trouble coming out since I was still so flabbergasted and taken by surprise. No one saw it coming...except Boss Lady and 'that Biatch' so I can't really elaborate on why she got fired considering that's just a bad look.

Just like it would be a really nasty look to rejoice at her losing her job during the holidays. Honestly, I don't want to rejoice because it's just foul even though the links above point out a smidgen of the crap dealt out by that 'woman'. Karma has got be busting a gut still laughing at the circumstances because all of the crap dealt to me and several others was all hit her dead in the face which might be feeling a few drops of Karma's spit on her face. Now, I'm really not rejoicing, but to be real, you would really think I'd be jumping for joy like a kid hearing their favorite morning DJ announce that school (and a day of tests) is out due to a Snow Day. I was never thrilled to hear about her losing her job. That's a woman with a kid at Christmas time who doesn't know exactly where her next paycheck is coming from. Then again, she has a side-hustle that she could take full-time (and she should), so extra concern about her really isn't needed. It's just not cool to openly be excited, and I haven't shown any of that since she's been gone.

In the meantime, Boss Lady made many assurance that my job was safe, and smugness clouded my thoughts while I luckily kept my face humble and worried. Boss Lady has documentation of how well I do my job from customers and the sales staff I support. I KNOW I'm really good to go as long as I don't eff things up, especially now. There are no guarantees that I'm safe, but I just know that I've been doing my part so I don't have to make Karma look me in the eyes and cuss me out. That's exactly what Karma did to 'that Biatch'. Bless her heart for losing her job, but 'that Biatch' earned that title, and she'll keep it...if I ever have to mention her again, but I shouldn't, should I? (Still not dancing. For real, for real.)

Contemplating All the Time

2007-12-01T09:34:00.000-05:00

I feel bad for not blogging for so long. However, I've been dealing with A LOT in my life. The short version is I've been hit on by a variety of characters that helped me hone my skills when it comes to flushing the crap down the toilet. One guy was still married and ready to make a move because of the chemistry we had while dancing and talking. He was eventually gonna make me his girl on the side just waiting for the day he would leave his wife. Riiiight. The young fool took me to a drive-in where we went dutch, and he actually asked me, "Do you like oral?" during the date. Like my panties were gonna just disappear and we would get down to business. Just one disappointment after another.

However, one friend who was lurking but still being my friend got closer to me despite my resistance. He always claimed, "I love you," since I've met him, and my responses were, "You don't know me." But he really knew how to treat me the way I wanted and deserved to be treated. And he digs me for me, not what I could be. On November 25, we officially became a couple. It's only been 2 months, and I think he really does love me. I feel very strongly for him, but I beleive I'm emotionally dragging my feet because of all the stuff I've encoutnered so far at 30. I want to love. I just don't want to be hurt again. I'm just taking my time.

I'm still doing me in the meantime. I've fallen off my workout regimen because I hurt my heel pretty badly. I did the AIDS Walk but didn't have the best support for me in my shoes. I've been lightly limping since. I've ridden a stationary bike quite a few times, and I love to change the resitstance, challenge myself to a hig speed for abou 1 or 2 minutes, and feel the sweat. It's not as much sweat as I'd feel on the elliptical, but it's better than nothing. THen somehow, I've just stopped. I'm sure a great deal of it stems from being with someone who loves me just the way I am. He actually wishes I were bigger - no deal. I'll stay exactly the same before I pile on pounds. No one is worth me making my health completely decline by adding weight. Not even free Chick-Fil-A for a year, and I love those Mint Cookies 'n' Cream milkshakes.

But while I'm getting more and more consumed in this fast-moving romance, I just learned of Latasha Norman being a missing woman on Wednesday. Most people didn't hear about her disappearance because of mass media ignoring a non-white with blonde hair. It took FaceBook networking and adamant requests from the public for some national coverage of Latasha's story. As usual, we all suspect foul play from a current or former boyfriend because we hear a lot about that these days. As usual, we were right.

Based on the limited media details I read, Latasha broke up with her boyfriend months ago. But they were both students at Jackson State Univesity in Jackson, Mississippi so they were bound to bump into each other at the small school. On October 9, Latasha called police outside of a restaurant because Stanley hit her. Then on November 13, she winds up missing. Now, Stanley has been charged with Latasha's murder. Her body was found on November 29 and appeared to be 2 weeks into the decomposing process.

There's so many elements to this that are really jacking with my mind. For one, domestic violence has lead to an early death several times for several unfortunate ladies and their families. It might have been a case similar to Latasha's where she actually cut off the relationship, or it could be a case where the woman stayed when she should have left. It's even more disturbing that a 20 year old woman is no longer here because her 24 year old criminal justice major of an ex-boyfriend threw his life away because he couldn't handle rejection. It just doesn't make sense to me to give up my freedom because someone doesn't want to be with me.

That leads me to wonder about my sweetie. My boyfriend really is a genuinely sweet, shy, and funny guy who's kind, generous, and way more understanding and patient than any guy I've ever dated. However, I haven't had the opportunity to see him get truly upset (besides him stuttering to find the right words to protest my "You don't know me" response to his dail claims of loving me). Will he flip out like this? Will I ever be in danger?

I still recall one night after another long step practice, there were about 6 of the 9 step team members still outside before going home. We were talking about the case of Tynesha Stewart who was killed by her ex-boyfriend. He actually dismembered her body and burned her remains on a grill. Disgusting and unreal.... But one married soror was telling us singles, "Be careful of these men y'all are dating. You have no idea who you're dealing with. We don't want to see any of our names in the headlines because of who we dated." That sticks with me because we don't know. That can apply to a married woman as well as a single woman, but her motherly concern stuck with me. Stories like these help me on stay on my toes while dating.

Prayers go out to the family of Latasha Norman facing this new unfortunate circumstance as well as Tynesha Stewart's family who may take a very long time finding peace in these matters.

Sources:

http://www.clarionledger.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071129/NEWS/71129039
http://www.clarionledger.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071129/NEWS/71129031
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/190902/texas_man_slaughters_and_grills_teens.html

2007-11-12T23:05:00.000-05:00

I'm so proud and humbled to be in such a beautiful sisterhood as my awesome Sigma Gamma Rho. Anytime anyone asks me why did I pick Sigma over the other sororities, I have to ask them, "Were there really any other options?" To be completely frank, I know deeeeeep in my hearrrrrrrt (*sorry, got distracted*) that if I had become a part of any other sorority, I'd only be a t-shirt wearer. I would have gotten my letters and kept it pushing. I never do that for Sigma. I can't say what the future will hold, but I keep my sorority near and dear to my heart.

I'll admit that I looked like a neophyte today. I wore a royal blue shirt with a golden "EE-YIP!" across the chest. I RHOcked that new platinum status satin baseball jacket with the sparkly letters, and I even wore my yellow rubberband on the wrist. But how couldn't I celebrate so much after attending a national Founders Day observance??? It was like a mini-boule, and I loved it. I cannot wait for Boule '08 in Detroit.

So to my sexy soRHOrs of Sigma Gamma Rho, I say let's continue to be women who bless the world through our motto of "Greater Service, Greater Progress". If there's hate out there, let the "others" hate. Even after the hate, there's still 85 years of stRHOng love overflowing and keeping our sorority not just alive but thriving. EEEEEE-YIP!!!

2007-11-02T16:10:00.000-05:00

I keep forgetting this job pays my bills but does not fulfill me or even make me happy. It's just a job. Therefore, I gotta spare some of my energy so I can work on blogging and writing in general.

The BlackOut on November 2. That's today. You all have heard about. If you haven't, maybe you stay off MySpace and YouTube and go read some news from time. Huey Freeman did tell us that he knows we don't read the newspapers. Anyway, I'm not thinking this plan is well thought out, and it cannot be well executed. It's one freaking day out of the year that you want me to avoid spending money if possible. Just one day. Payday Friday for me.

Well, if I want to avoid spending on Friday, I could have easily gone shopping and filled up my gas tank on Thursday evening just as I did. If possible, I can wait until Saturday to do my spending. There could be other Saturday shoppers that procrastinated just like me, and we'll just double the usual Saturday shopping numbers. As positive as I usually am, I cannot see how one day of non-spending will have an impact on America's pockets. Just one day.

How about we take it back to the "old school" and really sacrifice by boycotting one specific business for a month or even a whole year. The Montgomery Bus Boycott did the same thing. Look how we benefited from our grandparents' dedication and focus.

Maybe I'm being a pessimist for once, but I just don't see the impact this will make. Maybe if we focused on one particular industry or one particular giant. For example, maybe we'd tell black people to cancel their gym membership to XYZ gym ASAP. Just cancel them whenever the contract is up, or just walk on out of there. Go join another gym that doesn't offend us for whatever reason. There just needs to be better focus....

Speaking of focus, here is one way that a colleague of mine threw off my entire focus:

I think I like him

2007-10-16T10:45:00.000-05:00

I saw him at my desk today. This IT dude walks over to my desk to ask for my assistance. He walks in my cubicle space and says, "I have a need." My heart stops for a second, and I'm sure my face betrayed me having devilish thoughts of fulfilling his need. He says with his easy smile, "It's not that kind of need!" Oh how I wish it were. (I'm so digging it that I had to blog about this immejetly [way beyond immediately].)

I don't know what it is about this dude, but he is so yummy to me. He's smart, funny, quite cute, and just an overall cool dude. He's also a white guy, but that doesn't matter to me. A hot guy is a hot guy. I wonder if I look up at him with lovestruck eyes. I wonder if I told him how hot he is if he would return that same look. I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I'm near him, and I wish I could be close to him a lot.

This all sounds so elementary, but I really dig him. How bold am I to act on it? That I'm not sure of yet, but I'd have to pull him off to the side when it became too much to hold in my heart.

I did that once before in college with this light-skinned pretty-eyed teddy bear of an upperclassmen. I was still a freshman who had not found her inner woman yet. He must have been a junior getting focused on getting out of school and into the real world. Teddy was so adorable, sweet, and just cool. I like my mean meaty, and I surely liked him. Definitely had meat on the bones but not too much. Sometimes, he and I sat at the same huge table to eat dinner with others. Sometimes, I just saw him in the dorm lobby hanging out, and we were always cool.

Teddy had been making my heart skip several beats for a while, and I just couldn't hold back. We were walking back through the residential area through the trees and sidewalk one evening as we did two or three times a week. Fall leaves showed their beautiful colors as they blew in the breeze. They appeared to be shaking like fragile brown, yellow, and orange pom-poms cheering me on and giving me a little hope. I sucked it up, held my breath for a minute, and when I needed air, I blurted out, "I have a confession."

Teddy slowed down and looked at me with some concern. "Speak your mind."

I swallowed hard and finally said, "I like you. I think you're such a nice guy, and you're cute. I just had to let you know that I really like you."

Teddy batted his long lashes behind his glasses, and a smile crept across his warm face. Thanks to his light complexion, I could see a slight blush forming. Maybe he likes me back. Maybe his heart flipped a few times just as mine had done.

Teddy continued smiling as he found the right words: "I'm flattered that you think of me that way."

Oooh.... I had heard that before from my first love, who I was still cool with and was determined to marry after college. (Thank GOD that didn't happen!) Flattery will get you everywhere - except into the flattered person's heart.

"I see you as a friend. I think we'll be better as friends. Besides, I'm seeing someone."

----------

I still don't know if any of that was true because he and I didn't talk as much in my sophomore year. Maybe he really got serious in his senior year. Plus, I did switch to a dorm in the middle of campus with stairs upon stairs but no elevators. Only your real friends visit you when you live in a dorm where you have to take 3 flights of stairs.

His rejection didn't hurt me, but it doesn't make me itch to tell someone else how crazy I am about him. So I honestly don't know if my colleague will ever know how much my heart flip flops for him. *sigh*

2007-10-13T20:05:00.000-05:00

I've had a blogging block (not break) for a pretty good reason. See...I find myself caught up in trying to create a blog that's noteworthy or at least a favorite for a few people. Most importantly, I like being able to express myself about myself. Not that I'm a self-absorbed narcissist that spends all of my time in the mirror worrying about me!me!ME! I really do have other thoughts on my mind about the world today. But I struggle with expressing thoughts about ME knowing that there are so many important and critical things going on in the world.

It's a damn shame that Mychal Bell was freed from jail only to be put back in again. It's like the judge is telling all Americans, "Oh! Y'all think y'all did something coming down to Jena and marching? Let me show you that y'all ain't did s***!" (Initially, my true intentions were to get involved in the Jena 6 movement by blogging about the latest happenings. But then things would get crazy at work, and I didn't get the opportunity to blog when the news was fresh. C'est la vie.)

Nooses keep magically appearing on college campuses, but these incidents aren't limited to just the South. Who knew there were rednecks at Columbia Univeristy?

Georgia is having a serious drought even in October. It's as if God said, "I'm tired of y'all building over the glorious land I provided. So why should I give moisture to what you're going to reconstruct anyway?" According to an interview on V-103 earlirer this week with Mayor Shirley Franklin, Atlanta may soon have to deal with water the same way Las Vegas does.

Now, I am a conservationist and psuedo environmentalist by nature. I am who I am. I really do believe that turning off my shower water for about 2 - 3 minutes while washing my body can make a small difference. The suds and dirt being washed off can be delayed. It's not like the dirt's going to seep back into my skin for another day.

But at the same time I know that I feel I can contribute to saving the earth, I had to realize that I'm not a civil rights activist. It's easy to recognize that we still have so far to overcome with all the injustice that we're suffering. But I'm not a political pundit. I'm not trying to be one of the new civil rights figures. I'll be glad to help out, but I don't know if I'm supposed to step up to be "The Voice" of the movement. I want to do more, but it's almost seems impossible to want to take life so nonchalant when there's global warming, an endless and reasonless war in Iraq, and this insane housing bubble.

Honestly, I'm just trying to be me. Just regular ol' not all that deep me. At the same time, I want to grow into a deeper, more introspective person. Maybe all of the growth and evolution will be obvious in my blogging and my overall self-awareness. Actually, I'm quite aware right now because being 30 is the greatest! I know more about who I am and who I want to be. I'm just having difficulty accepting that I want to be "deep" so that my blogging can be "deep".

For now, I'm just not deep. So, I just have to accept that I'm not one of those deep philosophical types. I can't dig deep to impress upon people about how much trouble African-Americans are in and will be in if things don't change for us. I'm not the one to spit all these historical facts about our history and where we've been so we'll know where we're going.

I just wanna be me while I'm blogging. I'm accepting that. As long as your readers accept it, I'm good. If readers don't, then there's other blogs, aren't there?

2007-10-07T20:40:00.000-05:00

Co-workers can be funny as all get out. Not hold your sides and slap your neighbor's knee from laughing so hard funny. More like "Damn, you got issues" funny. The sad thing about this moment is I couldn't make this stuff up even though I'm an aspiring author. Maybe this comical but sad moment was given to me so I could experience something beyond my behavior standards. Something I can't imagine doing so I had to have it happen to put it in my mind.

It all started bright and early on a Wednesday morning. Traffic wasn't so bad, so it really took about 55 minutes to get to the job. I log into the phone first, so I'm the first one to get a phone call. I gently hit the button to open the lines of communication between customer and service associate. "Good Morning! Thank you for calling ____. This is Sunshyne. How may I help you?" Click.

Thank goodness for Caller ID because I got to look up the telephone number. No, I wouldn't call back and harrass a customer, but I had a sneaking suspicion of who was on the other line when the phone rang back immediately for my other coworker to learn that the third associate would be absent. It was that fake b**** of a coworker that I've posted about before (http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com/2007/05/being-pressed-must-be-pressing.html). I couldn't believe it because you can just ignore your coworker and ask for the manager's voicemail. Hanging up is middle school behavior, so I knew a 40+ year old woman couldn't do that.

But I just had to confirm it was that b****'s cell phone number, and I had to call her out. She probably didn't think anything of it, but hanging up on someone is so disrespectful. I sent a text message confronting her, and she simply replied, "I didn't want to talk to you." What? That pissed me off further because there was no remorse because she obviously felt I didn't deserve her respect. I can just have a dialtone with no apology or consideration for professionalism. There was no way I could just let that go. I'll admit my behavior was beginning to lean towards high school like drama, but I couldn't just let it go as if I was someone who could be easily disrespected. We have to work together, and the least colleagues can do is be civil to one another since they spend about 35 hours together.

So, I sent another simple text message: "So your solution was to hang up on me? Trust that you're not my fave person but I've never hung up on you when I was forced to talk to you and your attitude-filled hmmphs. Feel better."

Fast forward to Thursday morning. The phone rings to my colleague, whose cubicle is mine. I used those elementary lessons in context clues to figure out that the b**** was calling out again. Cool by me. It would be another cool day without her despite the work being so heavy because we do need all parties present. After b**** hangs up with my colleague, my phone rings 10 seconds later. I can't help noticing that the number is local, and I shake my head as I press the button on the ear piece.

"Good Morning! Thank you for calling ____. This is Sunshyne. How may I help you?"

A deep and obviously ill voice says, "Good Morning, Sunshyne! How are you?"

I routinely reply, "I'm fine. Thank you for asking. How are you?"

That ill voice forces out a pleasant, "I'm well this morning! Thank you!" Click.

I'm stunned that a 40+ year old woman really took time out on her sick day to call my line directly just to hang up on me. It angered me, but laughter escaped from my lips about 5 seconds later. I've never seen someone be so pressed about another individual, especially someone that should have more maturity. But that's the key. SHOULD. Having years under your belt doesn't give you wisdom under your dome.

That exchange did release a little of my inner evil though. I actually researched the phone number and confirmed that it matched the area where she said she lives. So I conveniently sent b**** a text message to follow up her display: "I hope you're resting well over on [street name], but I'm glad to know I'm on your mind on your day off." I know good and well hell I never think about the job on any day off. For what? My focus should be on me and enjoying myself or getting good treatment for whatever ails me.

So was there a lesson learned? Yes, there were two:

I was tired of ignoring bullisht that I would encounter with that b****. I was trying to keep the peace because we have to work together. Getting hung up on (which essentially equate to "F*** you" in my mind) flipped the script. So, it's out there. I really don't care for her, and I'll just be a professional as possible. Anything personal or sociable is out the window.
Truck driving is even more appealing than ever. I can't wait to get away from silly office politics and just drive. How much longer do I have? That depends on some of the research I'll get back. Maybe...just maybe I can find a truck driving school with night hours. Then I can keep my current job and benefits a little longer. Foolishness will not get in the way of my sound thinking.

Diversions that you NEED

2007-09-26T16:52:00.000-05:00

In this day and age of harsh realities (I ain't forgot about Jena at all), sometimes you just need a break. A break from the bullisht on your job because there's one person who steps over the line. A break from realizing that black folks have so far to go for our civil rights. A break from "the housing bubble" that's got folks being foreclosed on left and right. You don't have to marinate on these realities all of the time.

That's what TV networks believed in the '60s with classics like "The Munsters" and "Bewitched" being on television to divert us from the saddening news images of an unnecessary war that kept sending thousands of American soldiers home in coffins being broadcasted in our living rooms. Sounds familiar right?

Well, the idea is being recycled in 2007 with shows like "Heroes", "Bionic Woman", and what I'm expecting to be a great show (that'll get cancelled like all great shows) "Pushing Up Daisies".

Dwell on swell sitcoms for a spell.

2007-09-11T20:34:00.001-05:00

September 11, 2001 was supposed to be a nondescript kind of day that didn't matter. I had skipped work on a Tuesday and was lounging in bed. It was kinda bad that I was skipping because I had already had Monday off to begin with.

That was the best Monday in a while. It was a beautiful, sunny fall day as I walked around the Little Five Points area. My red afro was shining in the sunlight as the hippy population all around me didn't blink because there's no such thing as weird or abnormal in Little Five Points. Nag Champa incense bounced around in my paper bag as I left Junkman's Daughter and walked anywhere I pleased without a care in the world.

Everything just felt so right, so easy, so beautiful. I even decided to treat myself to a delicious lunch at Bridgetown Grill, a Caribbean cuisine restaurant. While I was enroute to Bridgetown, I still recall a clear thought crossing my mind in the middle of a great day in a great city. "Hmm...Nothing's happened in a long time that shook America to its core. Nothing like Pearl Harbor. I wonder what could happen to break us down like that ever again." The only thing I could think of was literally seeing America shook to its core and having buildings crumble before my eyes. But that was just a creative, overactive imagination. (NOTE: This is not fiction; this is an actual recollection.)

Then, my Mom woke me up. I was in my Grandmama gown that my grandmother gave me. It's literally one of those zip up gowns that grandmothers answer the door in, but it's so comfortable. Mom was kind of frantic as she told me, "A plane hit the World Trade Center." I waved it off and went back to sleep. It was obviously just an accident. Someone would save the lives, and it would be okay. I wanted my Z's.

Amazingly, I woke up later and felt the pain later. I felt that we were officially shaken at our core. My world crumbled around me for three days as I lay across my bed in a depressed mode because someone could take a plane and use it as a weapon against innocent people. So, I could only imagine what it was like in New York and Washington, DC.

I could reflect on and on, but we all know how it went down. It's still amazing six years later. I'll never forget what happened. What scares me is that 54 years from now, our children and grandchildren will treat September 11 just the way I looked at Pearl Harbor: just another day. It's quite possible, but I hope our generation doesn't let it go down like that.

"You got music in you the whole world needs to hear."

2007-09-03T00:13:00.000-05:00

I disliked most of the OutKast CD, "Idlewild". That CD never truly grew on me, even after playing it for a straight month. Just tonight, I just finally saw the movie on HBO, and I appreciated the movie and music. The title for this post is my favorite line from the movie, but you have to know what happened before I heard that line.

I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch. How did I sleep through the Sunday night of Labor Day weekend? Well, I guess I was tired from shopping with my Mom. I rarely shop with her, and she asked me if I wanted to go with her to this place around the corner that sells sheets, comforters, rugs, and other goodies for the house - except it's in a warehouse/outlet environment, and I hate that type of shopping. Nonetheless, Mom wanted me to go, and I did. I had my MP3 going and I was dancing all around to "Go" by Common, "He's the Greatest Dancer" by Sister Sledge, and "Sunshowers" by Dr. Buzzard's Savannah Band. Mom found nothing, and I bought my first set of 400 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Golden with vertical stripes for $34.99. Mom was ticked because she wanted the same sheets, but there was only one set in my size. *Kee kee kee* Then, I got a pedi and dealt with crap at Walmart.

Maybe that was too much excitement for me, but I awoke at 11:30 going in and out from one of those "Haunted History" shows. Honestly, I'm still not sure what was going on, but there was a psychic contacting a miner, and then another psychic was saying that the spirit was actually Carole Lombard, the wife of screen legend Clark Gable. While the second psychic was saying Lombard and Gable visited that particular location even today, I coulda swore a third spirit was contacting me. Maybe I was sleeping too hard, but it was so hard for me to wake up that last time. It was almost as if someone were lying on top of me and applying pressure to my whole being. I actually told someone in a long drawl that required great energy, "Let me wake up." Once I woke up, I had to take some direction from Sylvia Brown, the psychic that's always on "Montel" on Wednesdays. Three times I told whoever might have been visiting, "Thank you for your time. You're no longer welcome."

Flipping through channels led to the final hour of the film "Idlewild". Based on the last part, I have to see the whole movie sometime. Now I regret not seeing the movie while it was in theaters so I could contribute to another black movie in the Hollywood machine. Now, I'll have to purchase the DVD.

OutKast - Idlewild Blue (Don't Chu Worry 'Bout Me)

Awfully enough, that is not the first time that has happened. Something tells me that won't be my last time. Again with the psychic tendancies, but no winning Mega Millions ticket. *sighhhh*

My favorite line came when Rooster (Big Boi) belligerantly knocks on Percival's (Andre Benjamin [who is more than just 3000 to me]) door right before a pivotal moment. I can't tell the whole movie in case someone else hasn't seen it yet. Percival recognizes Rooster won't be denied as usual and answers the door. Rooster works hard to convince Percival to take train tickets to Chicago to pursue his dream of making and playing music beyond Idlewild. "You got music in you the whole world needs to hear," Rooster pleads.

Damn if that line didn't speak to me. There are stories in my head that the world should hear. God blessed me with a talent for putting words together, and I believe this life of mine is making more sense now because of the talent. Maybe I'm going through the things I go through just so I can give my unique perspective on ideas. So, I'm gonna keep blogging, but I know the world should be able to hear my perspective on this life. A smart person once said, "If you keep on doing what you've always done, you'll keep on getting what you've always got." -- W. L. Bateman (Don't know who that is, but it's still a brilliant idea.)

The Jena 6

2007-08-31T18:43:00.001-05:00

http://www.petitiononline.com/aZ51CqmR/petition.html

I ignored this forward so many times in my e-mail. I finally opened it and was amazed at the obvious miscarriage of justice that is still happening in 2007. Genarlow Wilson is not an isolated case of racism in our justice system. Watch the video, then take some form of action. Sign the online petition; the link is above. There's links on the web to donate to the justice team working to free the Jena 6.

This travesty cannot just be allowed to happen without a blink from us.

Special thank you to the Luscious Librarian for schooling me on how to embed videos. :)

What I have in common with Michael Vick

2007-08-30T20:06:00.000-05:00

Now may not be the best time every to find what you may have in common with this man. I wanna give him a "Bless his heart," but there's no way I can. I know I've made my fair share of mistakes and bad judgements in life. I haven't been perfect in any way. It would be asinine to expect anyone else to be perfect, even when they're paid very well to be nearly flawless when performing in front of thousands. In that respect, relating to Vick is easy because I still recall being on that step show stage in front of 3,500, and the judges were looking for flawless perfection in our movements, steps, flavor, and personality.

But the difference is I did it for a $2,000 first prize which went directly back to my chapter's treasury. My team's effort was a work of love where we gave our all with unselfishness because we were stepping in the name of our sorority. Dozens of sorors believed in us and showed up to the show, so we had to represent Sigma in the best light possible.

But Mr. Vick.... I just don't understand what motivates anyone to partake in illegal activities that risk your NINE FIGURE contract, the opulent lifestyle you're used to, or your freedom. I love waking up without someone telling me. I love that I can eat what I want when I want it. Upset would not be the word to describe my feelings if I couldn't get behind the wheel and drive. The only person I have to answer to is God, not the warden or that head dude who runs the cell block and wants to try the fresh meat. Personally, the dog fighting was heinous because dogs are wonderful creatures that shouldn't be abused and forced to damn near kill each other for our entertainment. I don't know if Vick should lose his entire eligibility to play football forever over this, but damn, Mike! You gotta pay the consequences because you made some dumb choices. Plain and simple. I wonder if his face looks like that all the time knowing how jacked up things are because he felt that Vick was invincible and would never fall flat on his face.

My dad and I got to arguing about this. My dad is a man that proves Chris Rock right everytime: the most racist person in the world is an old black man. Dad isn't really "old" at 55, but he's seen a lot growing up in middle Georgia and moving to Atlanta as a teen.

"Them crackas set Vick up. They didn't have to do him like that."

I'm looking at Dad like he's crazy. "Why it gotta be white people that set him up? Did they make his dumb ass fight some dogs?"

Dad says, "The white man always trying to bring blacks down, especially blacks with all the money."

I have to admit that in a lot of cases, Dad's theory rings true, but not in this case. His last comment had pissed me off, too. "Well, if Vick has all the money, and he knows someone's looking out for him just because he's black, why the hell would he put a bullseye on his back for them to hit their target? They could turn any little thing he does into a controversy. This dumb ass indulges in a controversial past time that is not a good look to a lot of people. Tell me how the hell white folks set him up for that?"

Dad stopped talking then because that isht was true. I'm just not one of the black folks that blindly supports what someone does because he's black. If you doing some nasty dirt, my name is not going behind it. Just because it's hot in the streets does not mean I have to support it. So just because Vick was making millions on top of millions because he was able to do what he was good at, that doesn't mean I'm going to blindly support his poor decision making skills. I feel the same about Busta Rhymes not cooperating with the police to find who killed his so-called close friend. I sho as hell don't care for Young Joc's song about the "CoffeeShop". Great analogy, but you got a kiddie type hook and melody talking about slanging. Get outta here with that mess!

Nonetheless, Vick should have a fair chance to redeem himself. In the meantime, maybe hundreds of thousands of kids everywhere got some kind of wakeup call from the Vick Debacle. Maybe they actually see that you can't just do any old reckless thing and get away with it. Maybe they finally know that if a famous athlete has consequences for his actions, they'll definitely have to face the music. Maybe they'll closely evaluate their decisions so they won't have to be called "The Biggest Loser" like Vick is right now.

Speaking of "The Biggest Loser", that'll be my title in about 2 months. We're having a "Biggest Loser" contest at our job, and determination has got me focused on being the winner. There's a $400 pot and an IPod Nano for the winner, and even the runner-up will win a Nano. This contest has finally provided the motivation I ned to monitor my eating habits more closely and map out a workout plan that's workable. Walking during a work break and/or lunch has even crept into the plans. It'll be great if the plan works, but good choices have to be made consistently to get the results. A plan means nothing without implementation and execution. So, hopefully, I'll have the "Biggest Loser" label in common with Michael Vick by the third week of October when we officially weigh in again. If I'm not, then I'll just be redeemed with the knowledge that I did my best and didn't hurt anybody including myself with my efforts.

Wish me luck. Pray for Vick.

I have to talk about Michael Vick another time, but we all make jacked up choices

2007-08-28T21:06:00.000-05:00

Bless this girl's heart. I might be having a hard time with my love life, but this child has become one of the biggest jokes in a while. I feel badly for her, but it's pure comedy that I came across thanks to me listening to "The Bert Show" rather than my usual Steve Harvey Morning Show.

Just know that Ms. Teen South Carolina was one of the top five finalist in the 2007 Ms Teen USA Pageant, and this is her answer to the question. We all make mistakes, but dang. Hopefully, she'll have to chance to bounce back just like all of us have.

After 10 days of reflection, I have decided I'm on Man Hiatus. This will be my time to bounce back by focusing on me. Who am I really? What do I really want, and how am I going to get it? While I'm reflecting, planning, and taking action, there will be no men involved for an indeterminate amount of time. (Gotta plan that part, too.)

The Man Hiatus will be fine. One of my good friends who is a HS teacher is turning 30 soon, and we both are fed up with the dating situation in Atlanta. Just too many men think that Atlanta is their playground, and women's hearts are their playthings for the momen. The men we're encountering are having issues, and it's too damn late in this life for this silliness. Most of the frustration lies with knowing that we have other girlfriends who are dating, becoming engaged, getting married, and starting their families. Yet, we're two of the thousands of good women who are drama-free, non-manipulative, honest, and sincere women who can't catch a break when it comes to this dating crap.

So, I'm removing myself from this madness for now. I need to get to know me and keep moving forward instead of worrying about when the next guy is coming along. Matter of fact, if the next guy approaches me, I'll have to pass for a while. I know a little voice in my head will whisper, "Are you sure you should pass him up? What if he's THE ONE?" Then, I'll remember all of the guys I gave a sincere chance to, and I'll have to say, "I am the one. If I make me the priority, then the right one will come along." Most importantly, it won't be an urgent matter of dating someone or talking to a guy. If he ever comes along, he'll be a complement to my life, not a requirement or a validation.

Interesting Part II

2007-08-18T22:33:00.000-05:00

This past Tuesday, plans were made for an easy-going "nice to meet you" date with a friend of one of my favorite cousins. I appreciated her thinking of me in the midst of her lovefest. In a lot of cases, people forget about their friends and family when they think they've found "The One". I know because I have been guilty of it, but not my cousin. She figured that if she was happy that she might be able to assist me in happiness with one of her friends. Awwww.... However, I think her ulterior motive was to provide a full table for dominoes games at her crib. Why not have her man, a cool cousin, and a cool friend to help her make four at her games? Of course, this is just speculation, but it makes sense in hindsight.

This friend of my cousin's, J, seems to be pretty boring. There's no personality over the phone, and he seems hesitant to have discussion. (That's why J is best name I could give him; there's nothing about him that stands out.) I really hesitated for this meeting, but since he stepped out for once and actually asked for the "date", I couldn't say no. Besides, there's a chance that he may be one of those people that doesn't care for phone convo but shines in a face-to-face experience. Just maybe.

Tuesday evening comes, and working out isn't on the schedule. I actually get home around 7:30 and give my dog a good bath outside. She was actually pretty good about it because she didn't run out of the tub or hide anywhere. Maybe she likes baths after all. Well, I got a little smelly myself, so I have to freshen up.

I figure this showering and looking nice thing would slow me down. In my considerate mode, I call J and ask, "Can we push back the time to 9:15? I need a lil more time to freshen up, and I don't want to make you wait for me alone at Longhorns." J agrees, and I get to scrubbing.

8:55 appears on my orange clock radio, and I'm still not completely ready. No worries because I live about 8 minutes away. I get jazzy with beads on my neck to balance a flirty tank and capri jeans. It's all topped off with a twist out hairstyle pinned into a mohawk. Yes, I know I'm on point, and J will see it, too. Not that I'm aiming for a romantic connection, but J needs to see what he's been sleeping on. I slip into my Honda around 9:12 and no that I'm running late.

It's 9:18 and I'm still on the way. Damn. So, I pull out the phone and call J again. No answer. I call back a second time, and there's J.

I open with, "Hey! I almost thought you had changed your mind and was trying to avoid my call."

J says, "Naw, I'm not that bad."

"Well, look, I'll be a Longhorns in about 3 minutes. I'm sorry for running late. Where are you?"

J plainly states, "I'm watering my grass."

That's all my silence. Right. There. "You're doing what?" I ask incredulously.

J plainly states again with no problem, "I'm watering my grass. I want this stuff to grow."

I can understand his desire of wanting all elements of his new home to be perfect. I can respect it. But at 9:18 when you have a date at 9:15? Really? The interesting part is that a lot of metro Atlanta is still under water restrictions, and most counties can do outside watering after 10 PM. Regardless, since when is grass so much more important than a date? Whose time counts the most: the woman who's out on a worknight and has to go to work the next morning, or the grass that doesn't have a job, won't fuss at you for waiting to water it, and has absolutely no obligations to anyone except to beautify our view of the world below as God saw fit to bless us with???

There was more convo that's absolutely incredulous. How did J's poor decision making skills affect him on a Tuesday night? I said, "You know what? I'm going home. I'm already on the street where Longhorn is, but I'm not waiting for your slow ass. This is so beneath my standards."

J actually begs, "Please don't go home! I'm on my way. I'll be there in 5 minutes."

"Oh hell naw," I protest. "Besides, it'll take you 5 minutes to get from the exit to Longhorns. You don't live on the exit, so it won't take 5 minutes, and I'm not waiting in a parking for 10 minutes for your arrival." Yeah, I got that angry t insist I wouldn't wait for him when I had called him to say I was about to make him late. Sounds contradictory? Like I give a flying fig. J was not in his car, but in his front yard. I actually turned around and went home and haven't heard from J since.

That horoscope from two Sundays ago is still ringing true. I'm surrounded by idiots these days, and I don't know if this is just a test, or if I'm being idiotic somehow and happen to be attacting the same idiocy. I don't feel like the latter is the case, but I just have to wonder about that. Should I be on man hiatus again? Damn, man hiatus is boring, and I'm having fun in my 30th year. Do I really have to make that big of a sacrifice? Now?

Despite my whining, they may be what I need to do. Concentrate on creative stuff, go work out, get my isht in order, and leave dudes alone. Maybe I need to find something to cuddle next to at night and spray it with some cologne or AXE. Anything but pulling these dummies into my personal space.

Interesting....Do tell!

2007-08-15T09:39:00.000-05:00

Remember when saying something was "interesting" really used to mean, " holding the attention : arousing interest"?(a) It actually was something that was nice, cool, or just plain ol' good. After slaving over cubed steak & gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet peas, and homemade biscuits to set dinner time off right, the family would gather around the dinner table with the nightly news playing on the kitchen TV. Then, Mama or Daddy would ask, "What did you do in class that was interesting today?" Then, like a good son or daughter, you sit and think for a hot second while still tearing up the potatoes, peas, and gravy that you mixed together to your Mama's chagrin, and you state matter of factly, "I got a 100 on my spelling test," or, "Miss White let me lead the class to the cafeteria for lunch."

Mama says for the umpteenth, "Don't speak with your mouth full."

You finish chewing and tell Mama, "Sorry."

Mama wants to launch into, "That's another reason we don't take you nowhere. You act like I didn't raise you better than to talk with a mouth full of food." But your story aroused her interest, so you see Mama's face soften as she asks, with interest, "So tell me what happened." Then, with your chest all swollen with pride, you excitedly launch into the good details of how that event went down and ended on a positive note.

Even as recently as 10 years ago, let's say one of your male friends asks you about your homegirl that lives on your floor of the dormitory. Your answer might sound like, "Oh, Stacy? She's a really interesting girl." That stirs intrigue in your homeboy, and you go into further good details: "Yeah, she's in SGA and an African Dance troupe. She's always into something, but there's no drama because everybody likes her. Stacy even does community service at a homeless shelter on the weekends, and she's not even trying to go Greek." So, homegirl Stacy is interesting in a legitimately good way because those details really did hold homeboy's attention, and arouse interest.

Fast forward to 2007. "Interesting" is never mistaken as anything good these days. Don't remember exactly when that changed, but I know my love life is definitely "interesting". The sad thing is that my current state of affairs can definitely hold someone's attention because of its silliness, and it may arouse interest because everyone deserves entertainment. Who am I to deny anyone entertainment?

First of all, I had a teary but reflective Friday and Saturday because I normally would try to spend some time with Bones on Saturday and/or Sunday. This was the first weekend where that didn't go down because we're not an item anymore. Today, I just recognize it for what it is: "It bes that way sometimes." Like SupaChica told me on the phone, "Girl, he did you a favor. He wasted 3 months of your time instead of 3 years of your life. Learn the lesson and move on."

So, in my attempt to move on, I have some prospects. I'm trying hard to be like one of my sorors, and keep a stable of men that all know their friends until further notice. If I find a top prospect that eventually becomes #1, then all others would go to the wayside. I'm too old to use my energies to try to be a hardcore playerette but still too old to be silly enough to date one guy at a time.

After being teary on Saturday, I decided to get busy on the errands I neglected and get them taken care on a stifling hot Sunday afternoon. That "buy one, get one free" coupon for an oil change at a local oil change franchise was calling me, so I jumped in the Honda and got it cracking. The dark denim capris, sleeveless cleavage-showing top enhanced with yellow glittery beads, and white low-heeled flip flops were looking niiice after the fresh pedicure. As soon as I pull up, there's flirting. Too bad it's with a older gentleman. Really nice with a fresh mouth and about 40 years on him. Not feeling Mr. Goodwrench before the middle age crisis goes full swing.

I'm in the lobby listening to my MP3 and jamming off my white people: Queen and George Michael. Then I take it old school with Newcleus and Prince. I'm called up to the counter by this young tender. Yes he is tendaaaah. Tall, red, kinda slim and toned. I see the biceps popping under his polo shirt. Looks so familiar but I can't place it. He happens to be the store manager, and he calls me to the desk to settle the bill. I'm straight jammin' to my 80s moment, and Mr. Manager can't help taking notice.

"Where's your man?"

I quickly respond, "Dumped!"

Manager's interest is piqued. "Why'd you dump him?"

"He punked out on a very important matter, and I don't date punks."

After this exchange, one of the other employees leaves the lobby and leaves me and the manager alone to flirt. The manager has this swagger...that looks familiar. As he sits down, he spreads his long legs wiiide open. Then, I notice his right hand covered with a powder blue rubber glove go immediately to the crotch area. I think, "This is kind of a garage, and it's man space. That's just how some guys roll without thinking." Just like me to give the benefit of the doubt.

"DJ," he answers with a beautiful white smile. "Those are my real initials so I'm a real DJ." He tells me his real name, and I nod with a smile. "Well, alright then, Red." Dude is a serious redbone, lighter than me. Usually not my type, but if I'm working on my flirting skills, I might as well play along with DJ.

Then, without looking too hard, I notice without staring that his right hand is moving in an up and down motion in his crotch area. "A lot of people call me Red Mandingo," he says with this lustful look on his face.

Yeah, that's Donald Rumsfeld, our former Secretary of Defense, and he's aptly communicating the disbelief of that statement. Just a dead stare was on my face, but I was internally rubbing my eyes and cleaning my ears because I just knew that I had hallucinated that whole scene. The staring into Mr. Mandingo's face continued, but no words followed. Mr. Mandingo obviously expected applause and a cartwheel with his announcement. However, my silence always speaks volumes, and that was my response. Miraculously, the powder blue was removed from his crotch, but I couldn't take the rest of his convo seriously.

That interaction leaves me pondering because that's not the first time someone has tried me like that. That was definitely the first time a young, dumb guy of 27 tried to stimulate me visually, but I still have to wonder. Am I getting approached like that just because I'm a big girl, and these guys really think that I'm a desperate fat girl just waiting for the opportunity for my vagina to meet any penis offered to me? I know some guys will try anything with breasts and a continuous breathing pattern. Unfortunately, I just find too many of these guys hitting on me.

I know I'm worth more than that because I have had some real relationships in my past (that I must delve into later). It just seems to elude me at this critical 30s juncture. It makes me look at myself and think what's wrong. And damn it, if this stuff doesn't send me back into a reflective mode when I'd be much happier moving forward. I'm really not hurting about Bones anymore, but now, I'm wondering if guys just think they can try me in any way just because. As if I as a woman don't deserve the best but should settle for whatever bullisht they think they should offer with minimum effort. *sigh* "Tryin' to make a sista feel low/You know all of that has to go". Thanks, Queen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(a) Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, http://www.m-w.com/.

Reflections on whatever we had

2007-08-11T17:45:00.000-05:00

Whodini - One Love

Posted Nov 07, 2006

To love someone is an atmosphere/

That you both still share when one's not there/

There's no way real it can be explained

.....

It's the way I trust you and you trust me/

I guess some of us are so lucky

Who knew I would be enlightened by Whodini's "One Love" when it came to this thing called "love"? Those lyrics and feelings applied to me and Bones just a few days ago. Now, it's all gone. Funny that the song was playing immediately after I hung up the phone from that effed up phone call. All because he pulled an enormous punk move with a punk decision. No gumption. No courage in this situation. Just had the gall to suggest to me after nearly 3 months, "I hope we can be friends and still hang out from time to time."

Yeah, I took it back to about 1990 when I heard that "proposition". My face contorted into a straight up "Gas Face". Where in the hell does he get off giving me breakup terminology at this point in our friendship? And by this point, we were more than friends...but not officially a couple.

Bones insisted on Wednesday evening that the matter was quite complicated. "I should tell you everything face to face. I owe you that much."

With a painful look on my face like I just smelled someone's after effects of the bean burrito from lunch, "Just spit it out now. You can't leave me hanging like that after suggesting a plain 'friends' situation."

"It's kinda late to talk about it now, but can we meet for drinks or a bite to eat on tomorrow?"

I'm remembering some of the great Rules I've been learning, and I make sure he understands the world doesn't revolve around him. No changes to my schedule just because Bones makes a suggestion. "You know Thursday at 7 PM is Kamick time," I answer as I look forward to the beautiful pain of the weekly step class. "I gotta work out. So how about 9 o'clock at my house? We'll go somewhere from there, and I should be showered and dressed by 9."

Bones agrees, and we get off the phone. So, Thursday comes, I get forced to workout with a substitute for Kamick, which was awful. Only 1/5 of the class actually worked out, and it was such a letdown. I thought that I was tired again, but I was quite slow during the workout because it was boring and repetitive easy crap. Nowhere near Kamick's style. Sad thing is that I had encountered Lazy Lindsay before, and just like the first time I worked out with her, I had no endorphins flowing as I somberly left the gym at 8:01 PM. I knew I couldn't get on a machine to make up for that wack step class because I had to meet with Bones.

I pull into the driveway at 8:33 PM knowing that I might not be ready at exactly 9. I decided to be proactive and check Bones' estimated time of arrival. When he answers, I'm nice about everything in the little chit chat. We're glad that both of us had a decent day at work.

"So, where are you now?" I ask.

"At my cousin's house," he replies.

"And you're on your way to where?"

The man who gets off at 4 PM from his supervisor position at a hospital says, "I haven't been home all day. I was at my cousin's for a while."

I ask again, "And you're on your way to where?"

Bones plainly says, "Home."

I answer with silence because I'm in disbelief. Bones knows my silence speaks volumes. After about 8 seconds, I plainly ask, "Shouldn't you be on your way over here like you said?"

Bones comes with a lame answer: "I have to work tomorrow, and it's getting kinda late."

Now I start to get steamed because we has a face-to-face talk last week, but it wasn't a problem letting me come over to visit late for a talk. When it's his turn to drive, he somehow is much more conscious of the time of day. In my frustration and anxiety, I make a simple request: "Just spit it out then. Why is there suddenly a request to be 'friends' when we were supposedly growing closer in our current friendship?"

This began a long bullisht conversation regarding the previous woman he was dealing with. The story Bones gave to me is that he asked her to move in before he and I started being friendly. He wanted to help her manage her money, which she reportedly has a good deal of because of not one, but two good jobs. After getting to know me better, he claimed he told his previous woman he was no longer interested, and they couldn't be friends because he met someone else he was interested in. But whenever I was over there, there were traces of a woman being there. These articles of clothing and hygienic products were never removed, boxed up, kicked into the closet, covered up, or anything. They just remained as if I never noticed them or brought them to Bones' attention. Well, in our conversation, he finally reveals that the woman was still living there. She just works a lot, so she wasn't being seen because she wasn't coming to the house when I was there.

Bones concludes, "So it'll be hard for you and I to spend time together since she lost one of her jobs. She has no where else to go." Blah. Blah. Mothereffing Blah. More bullisht that doesn't make sense because it wasn't that damn complicated and hard to spend time only days before.

On top of that, the only thing I got from him was a "Happy Birthday" call. I think we might have gone out for my birthday, but he was out of town on vacation (so he claims). He gets back into town, and I get nothing. Over two weeks later, and nothing to recognize my 30th. (Hmm....I didn't even get some cute trinket from his trip, and I never saw pics from the family reunion.) In a way, I feel like I played myself for seeing him and getting nothing when he gets back because I believe I saw him twice after he returned; I didn't have to return after the first visit. I wasn't looking for some gargantuan display of flowers or a tennis bracelet. I just wanted a genuine token of affection or something that shows that the guy I'm interested in is thankful that God saw fit to give me life and then have the two of us cross paths. A birthday card, a gift card, or a simple tulip would have meant something to me. But I got plenty of calls and text messages on my birthday. Therefore, the guy that I'm interested in should be able to step it up and get me something nice. Something special from him that shows that I am definitely special to him.

But that didn't happen. Then, you combine the issue with that other woman (or would that be my title? I'on'know.), and I've been fed a bunch of bull. Three months of bull from the guy that I gave a second chance to, and it all ends in a wack call where all my intuition is confirmed.

He honestly just wasn't that into me. He put on a decent act with it, but I still had suspicions. I don't know what the truth is about the entire matter, but I do know that Bones punked out on me. The easier road was to tell Sunshyne that we should just be friends. Not to deal with the uncomfortable sensation of telling someone that it's completely over. It's just more comfortable to drop the person that you have ridiculous chemistry with. Even as I type this entry, I still don't get what's going on in his head. I think I can read his heart pretty well: he was playing a game. That was what I was thinking for a minute, but it felt so real for so long. It was really special because it was the second time around for us. I was convinced that he couldn't be playing around. This is real.

But he seemed to have a lack of respect for me, and I love myself way more than I like him. Therefore, I can't tolerate such disrespect for my emotions, my concerns, and my being so ready to trust him. That just ain't right, especially when I know I deserve the best.

So, here comes some serious reflection on what went wrong, what could I have done better, what shouldn't I have done at all, and most importantly, what can I do to avoid this situation in the future? I have had a bad habit of not reflecting back, but I'm 30, and this nonsense cannot continue forever. I don't want to be stuck on the idea that love isn't for me. I am too optimistic to stick to the infuriating idea that I can't trust anyone and that the 2' thick brick wall that I'm reconstructing needs to stay up forever. I'll peek through that wall if someone is interested, but I have to be even more careful who I open up to. If I open up, then I have to play the gave carefully to avoid going through the same cycle of bullisht.

Amazingly, my horoscope in the AJC by Jeraldine Saunders on this past Sunday (8/5/07) kinda predicted this. Well, I figured me and Bones being on the outs was just a moment in time, but maybe I didn't let enough time pass by for the horoscope's sage advice:

You might be in the mood for love.

But love might not be in the mood for you

over the next several days.

Tap into creative outlets and hobbies for the best success.

Don't be overly critical of yourself.

When I reflect on that horoscope, my mind is like a Parker Brothers board game: Boggled. I saw it coming and read it clearly knowing that the horoscope was da truth. The horoscope is not a regular part of my Sunday paper reading, so having every word of a horoscope apply to my situation should've been a clue. Honestly, I thought enough time had passed since Sunday, but four days was not enough.

Now, I have to use the last two lines to get through this all. I'm blogging now to tap into my creativity and good use of time. I can't allow my mind to idle and become the Devil's playground, where reminiscing on the good times and incessant questions of why and when about the Bones' behavior pop into my mind over and over. Then, I might be driven to make a poor decision, like calling him for closure. I also need to stop beating myself up. I'm reading that I can be critical of the situation and evaluate myself, but I cannot allow all of the blame to lie with me. I might have been to ready to trust him quickly and begin to fall for him because we had chemistry, but it's not entirely my fault that he thought it was okay to continually disrespect me and my emotions and not find our friendship worthy of "fighting" for.

And that female guard with the gun by that wall? She's been promoted to protecting a 3' thick wall guarding my heart, and she's handily holding a Mossberg.

As I continue to reflect, one conclusion I've come to is I must play the game the way it's meant to be played. No straying from the Rules because I think this guy is different. He won't play me. Eff that. If I play this stupid game, then I might be able to land a reliable, trustworthy man. If I don't call the guy at all, then maybe he'll maintain his interest. In other words, I need that self-discipline that I'm sorely lacking in other areas. I need the discipline to not call a man, to not spend so much time with that man at his house, and to not sleep with him after quite a few weeks. Maybe he'll never get it until we're married. Hell, I sell toys meant to tide a girl over until the next romp in the sheets. I especially need the discipline to cut a guy from my life if he starts trying me for sex way too early in our acquaintance. Thinking and strategizing have been a part of my plans before, but sticking to the planned strategy will be necessary in the future because I don't plan on being an old maid.

I can't work this life no mo'!

2007-08-07T16:51:00.000-05:00

Brother Kanye works my nerves with his arrogance, and he's really pretty average looking, but that intro from "Spaceship" off "College Dropout" inspired this post. The picture goes so well with my ambitions, too. Just walk the hell out the do' all cocky with it because I'm know I'm walking into a better door than the one I left.

One of the best lines in the whole song:

Waitin' paitently I ask myself

Where I wanna go, where I wanna be

If that song ain't talking about me right this second! The salespeople are going crazy with their "I want it yesterday" attitude as if we don't have anything else to do for our support jobs. We always have something to do. Well, Fridays can be kinda blah for my position, and the same kinda goes for sales. But they keep pushing, and it's making the job not so easy anymore.

That's why I still have my mind focused and steered straight towards being behind the wheel of a semi. I know I need to stay with this job for at least another 7 months. I may even sacrifice my happiness and wait 8 months so I can be on my chapter's step team again. (I can't be in practice in March if I'll be doing the truck driving school thing in March.) That sacrifice isn't so bad to me in comparison the idea of being constantly frustrated because I know I'm getting more and more sucked into this corporate life that I never wanted to be in. This goes to show again: If you own a small business, keep your business private and small enough so your empoyees don't have to suffer.

Meanwhile, I had two psychic moments in the past two days. Me and Bones are kinda on the outs. I've decided not to sweat it this time. If he calls, he calls. If he doesn't call, "then it just wasn't meant to be. It just wasn't." (MC Lyte's "Paper Thin") But back to the psychic moment. Monday morning, I was thinking of an answer to the question, "What song best describes your love life?" I was listening to Frank and Wanda on V-103, which I normally avoid because I'm a proud sufferer of SHMSS - Steve Harvey Morning Show Syndrome. Well, the song that comes to mind is "Stop Playin' Games" by 8Ball. We're both playing a stupid game, but he really needs to come correct on his game. I swear to God that "Stop Playin' Games" came on about 2 minutes later. Coincidence? Maybe.

On Tuesday morning, I'm driving into work just jammin' with a morning workout mix on V-103 again. What can I say - I just got tired of Tommy talking in Steve's absence, so I wanted to hear some hype in the morning. Faith runs through the traffic report, there's a quick news report, and a commercial comes on to my chagrin, but I don't change the station. Instead, I think to myself, "What they shoulda played was some LL Cool J. I need to find a LL Cool J CD for my car." I swear to God again that the next commerical started talking aout the G.O.A.T. Yes, the "Greatest of All Times" will be in the A this weekend hosting a party at The Compound. I'm seriously considering going because how often do you party with a hip hop legend? Coincidence? I'm not so convinced of that anymore.

Maybe I need to start working on my psychic abilities. Maybe I'll get a vision of winning lottery numbers so I can fly away on a spaceship with Kanye. Well, I'll fly off with Kanye's idea as I count my millions. OK...I'd be good with $250,000. You ever notice how you can't stand your job and just play the lotto a little too much because you sure hope you can get lucky and have a good ass reason to leave the job? *sigh* Just maybe the right combo of numbers will come to mind.

When is this day OVA?

2007-08-02T13:57:00.000-05:00

I finally hit "The New 20", and I'm quite content with things. However, I can't really get to deep into it because I'm stuck on the job where things have gotten more complicated and busier. This used to be such a super-easy gig! Sometimes, it made me think of staying even longer and postponing plans to start truck driving school in early March. Now, I'm tired of working so hard for these people. I get paid well and have cool colleagues..., but I'd like more money with less stress.

By the way, I've gotten myslf caught up in reading Omar Tyree. I just read "Flyy Girl" for the first time. I underestimated Omar Tyree just as I figure most readers did in the first several chapters. It was a completely easy read, but I figured it was because Omar was speaking in the voice of an 8 year old girl. As the chapters and pages went on, I began to appreciate the story and the characters. I'd recommend it. It must be good if I found a copy of the sequel, "For The Love of Money" at a friend's house and just had to have it. They'll get it back. I'm not one of those ghetto borrower's that will hold on to a book so long that I eventually convince myself that I walked into Barnes & Noble, bypassed the Cafe' and sacrificed my taste buds to go directly to the register to pay for the book. I actually no someone who let me borrow a book, and there was a pre-printed sticker with someone else's name in it. :/

............

5:34 PM

Still at work. Still looking forward to truck driving. Still at work. Still looking forward to my Kamick Time with the step sculpt class.

Sorry, folks, but I think I want hold off on talking about celebrating my 30th year. My birthday weekend was pretty cool, and I'm looking forward to more foolishness. Speaking of foolishness, the men of Iota Phi Theta Fraternity, Inc are having their national convention in my wonderful metropolis of Atlanta. How come I have a soror here who's hosting 3 Iotas at her house because she's an ever faithful Iota Sweetheart? Why will I be with her on Friday and probabaly Saturday, too? There'll be a stepshow on Friday night, and I'll be there to support the one team of my sorors stepping against 5 Delta teams. Why the hell are there 5 dang teams stepping for one org? Craziness.

It's Lunch Time!

2007-07-23T16:02:00.001-05:00

I just felt like sharing this photo from the 2007 Atlanta Greek Picnic. That's me on the end repping for the big girls. Luscious, ain't I? Hips, thighs, and mo'.

PS I see ya, taklifbystorm and T. Dixon! Thanks for the comments! Keep coming by! (yes...I'm excited)

.....

It's 5:04, and I have 56 minutes left. How do I not use my time wisely? First, I go to FaceBook for any updates. I had to add one of my reddest soRHOrs to my friends list and just check on a couple of folks at random. Then, I come over here to share my world with the people. I'm tying as fast as I can, but the craziness is that I'm only giving myself 30 minutes for lunch. I'm tired and groggy as hell because I've been up all day just working and typing. I want to lay my head down, but that would be sleeping on calories. Can't quite do that because I need to get about 3 pounds off before the end of the month. So, I have to stay wide awake because I just refused to call first dibs on an earlier lunch. I usually go around 1:30, so this is bad.... I don't know what a workout will be like today, but I can't fall off now.

In the meantime, someone is trying the hell out of me. Bones is still out of town, and I haven't heard a peep from him. No text message. No quick phone call. No voicemail. I'm not sweating it, but I just find it interesting because of the events of this weekend. Maybe it's a test from God to figure out if I really, really want to be with someone so much older than me that I think I'm so compatible with. Or maybe someone up above is trying to tell me, "That dude ain't calling you, so you might as well go out to play! Do you see how fine you are, girl!?! You betta go play da game."

See, I went to a picnic on Saturday afternoon. I honestly intended to kick it with the sorors at this blue and gold picnic and roll out after an hour. I ended up helping them clean because I stayed behind having too much fun. Spades helped to hype me up because I would up handling things at a table with 3 interesting guys. None of them were really my type, but your girl was effervescing all over those guys and getting to talk some serious Spades trash. I even had to school my partner on the virtue of not underbidding.

"But why bid 8 when you only need to bid 4?" this dummy asks.

I look at him with an incredulous look of, "Is you serious?" I thought for a moment and nicely said, "It's the sportsmanship of the game. Underbidding your hand on purpose is pretty underhanded because it can set up your opponents to believe they may be underbidding. So your card playing is based on underhanded tactics, not sheer skills."

Dummy quickly says, "So? As long as you win."

My eyes narrow as I glare at him. "So, you're okay with cheating yourself out of an earned win? You're okay with cheating in general?"

He said some mess that basically meant it was okay, and I had to let it go. There's only so much stupidity I can take on a beautiful day in the park with free fixings and a banging mix CD full of old school R&B and hip hop. But before I let it go, I had to point to all the sandbags on the scoresheet and strongly advise him, "Bid yo' hand!" The other two guys and two of my sorors were quite entertained that I had to break it down to someone obviously older than me.

After the picnic, I kicked it with two sorors at Target. When you're around two cool people and the cutest chocolate baby that flirts better than some 30somethings, Target is a hella cool place. We shopped around and found cute stuff including some fantastic yellow beads: translucent, full of glitter, and as my brother, NOPI, describes them, like anal beads (graduated beads for the rest of you).

Eventually, I head home. At some later time, I call my friend, Special K. (Refresh yourself by visiting http://sunshynelyfe.blogspot.com/2007/02/boredom-has-set-in-lately.html.) We talked recently after I called him for a while. But while I was leaving messages, I was still getting to know Bones. Fast forward to Saturday, and I'm trying to keep my mind occupied so I don't have to wrestle with not calling Bones, so I call Special K. It's quite late, but he lives 3 minutes drive from me. He says I can come by to hang out. Cool.

What's interesting is before I make it to Special K's place, I go grocery shopping in all my afroliciousness. Yo' girl was on point in a cute gold top, dark denim capris, and a nice set of the blue anal beads for my neck. Niiice. So nice that a guy starts to hit on me in the store. Scott (who's real name can be revealed because he probably won't come up again) is 5'8', well built, caramel, nice smile, Jamaican. We walk around the store, talk, and exchange numbers. He really seemed smitten, meaning I probably won't be smitten. Interesting question: where was this dude when I was looking for someone? Why do these guys come out the wood works when you think you've finally found someone that you like?

So, I leave the store and wind up on Special K's doorstep. Not for a booty call. Just friendly time together. He opens the door in his white wifebeater and his brand new tattoo of his daughter's name on his shoulder. It's quite nice, and it's nicely positioned on his nice, big, round shoulder. But I have to blink back to reality and remember my sweetie. We sit around, we talk and reconnect, and then the inevitable happens: that dude tried me.

"Those beads are just so big. So juicy. Like you could eat one for breakfast."

In hindsight, I really missed what he meant. "Play with the beads if you want. They're just beads."

Special K takes his fingers up to the beads and rolls one around slowly. Somehow, I feel his finger lightly land on my chest that was nicely exposed. Then, I realize his finger is starting to linger, get comfortable, and move across my skin. WTF? I try to be cool and just remove his hand from my area before it finds my areola.

That clown tried me a couple of other times. He took the cake when he actually told me he wish he missed someone the way I was missing Bones. This clown just told me about some chick that he calls his Suga Mama.... Then, he asks me seriously, "Why don't you break up with the guy you're dealing with so you can hang out with me?" Again, WTF??? I thought about it later and realized he really wanted me to drop the cool dude that likes me the way that I am, but he still manages to encourage me to lose weight because he knows that's what I want. Special K wanted to be just friends only 5 months ago and now wants me just because me and my milkjugs are on his couch. I must admit I was cute as hell, and my shape was obvious..., but that dude is crazy. Needless to say, nothing happened for Special K, but I got the satisfaction of knowing that the dude that made me his friend wanted me.

Fast forward to Sunday, and I'll tell you two more dudes came out of the wood works including NutCase. Four dudes in 3 days. The last time I had this much blasting from the past, there were four dudes that came back around in three weeks. Fascinating stuff. I think God is straight trying me so I can figure a lot of things out including what I want out of a love life. I have a lot to reflect on before turning 30.

2007-07-19T08:34:00.000-05:00

I've never thought of calling anyone else sunshine besides myself. But that's what Bones has become for me: a regular dose of sunshine. I can't talk about him all the time, but his effect on me is felt all the time. His spirit, his laughter, his adoration, his handsome face, his touch...all of it makes me feel so warm and glowy on the inside. He doesn't like the pet name of sunshine, but it applies. I'm open to any super sweet suggestions.

Meantime, I can't wait until 6 PM today. No, it's not Bones. It's my new addiction, and it involves a new guy. He can work it like no other! I love to watch him "make it do what it do" as he inspires me and dozens of others every Thursday. My Step instructor, Kamick (prounounced Ka-meek), is deliriously off the chain! That Thursday Step class is filled with a whole slew of guys that I find to be sexy but untouchable - only because all of them are gay like Kamick. But that means I'm really at this location to handle business because I'm pretty confident that not a single guy in there is looking at me because they're all busy trying to get fine for each other. If that's their cup of tea, then they can sip all day. Just as long as I get to have my hour of beautiful torture with Kamick on the step, then it's copacetic.

...

I got to the gym late, but I was in luck because my homegirl, Ms. EastSider, decided to try out the class I had been raving about, and she set up a step for me. The only negative: the step was dead in the front of the class where people could easily see me not getting yet another complicated step. I missed out on stretching with the class, but I did stretch my lower back. There was a lot of the usual: hamstrings around the world (hamstring curls while rotating in four points around and across the step bench); knee repeaters; and L-step.

Of course, Kamick always has us doing stuff that only his seasoned vets know about, but you just have to endure this lovely frustration of not knowing and keep a smile on your face as you fight to pick up the moves. The funny part is that I wind up beating myself up for not being able to get some of the moves. Then, when I stop to wipe the waterfalls of sweat from my face, rest my muscles for 10 seconds, and catch my breath, I look around and find almost the whole room has stopped because Kamick has called out some wild combos that maybe 2 or 3 vets can keep up with.

But that's the sincere beauty of the class. It inspires you to do your best to keep up with the rest of the class and one day become one of the few vets that can keep with Kamick's combos. You don't want to drag down the rest of the class, so I wind up pushing myself harder and further to keep up. But you can't just keep up only one day of the week. That class actually motivates me to work out the rest of the week so I can get a natural high from working out in that class. My eating habits have to improve so I won't be taking this class in vain. After all the sweating and sore Fridays I've had since starting the class, I refuse to still be the big girl in class that can keep up. At some point, I have to use that DISCIPLINE to move forward and be a better but more svelte Sunshyne.

NOTE: Sunshyne will not remain the same big girl in her 30s that she was in her 20s. Mark my words.

Patience is a virtue...so I've heard

2007-07-13T15:54:00.000-05:00

That "Epiphany" post is probably going to be one of my top 10 posts ever, but it appears I set a false alarm. I've never claimed that I was a master at that virtue of patience.

It had been a while, but Bones and I finally talked. Please believe that things didn't just pick up exactly where they left on the 4th. Conversation was very slow although Bones was happy to be talking to me. He seemed oblivioius to the situation, but what man isn't? Then I remember the idea that a man is not a mind reader, so I had to spell it out for him.

"What did I do to you to make you not call?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he answered with another question. "I was gonna ask you the same thing. You didn't do anything to me. You're too nice of a person. Did I do anything to you?"

Innocently, I answer, "No. I didn't think you did. But I was starting to think you were having second thoughts about me even though you brought me around one of your daughters."

Bones replies, "Well, I had the same thoughts. You brought your sister-in-law, y'all started talking after y'all left. Maybe you changed your mind after that. Don't you think I get to thinking about us, too?"

Well, damn, I thought to myself. That led to a tense conversation where I had to provide some background. This is my second time around the block with Bones. The first time around...I couldn't stand him. We did not click at all. Terrible. It seemed like he disagreed with everything I said just for the sake of disagreeing. Eventually, we lost touch and moved on with our lives.

Then, in May '07, I get a random call from a chick wanting to have a Slumber Party at the last minute. Specifically, this chick wanted a fly bachelorette party on a Saturday, and she was calling on a Thursday - like she didn't know that a bachelorette party wouldn't be coming up on the Saturday before the wedding. Like someone really called her up and said, "Hey! I'm getting married this Saturday. Throw me a bachelorette party!" Great Slumber Parties take time, and 48 hours is not a good time to plan a hot girls night out. Good thing I already had a party booked, and the chick was passed off to another distributor. With only 48 hours notice, the distributor I passed it to could only provide a decent girls night out. Then again, Chick actually had the most bootleg ideas ever for her party.

But the cool thing about this Chick was she was referred to me by Bones. When she gave the name for the referral, I said, "Bones? Who is Bones?" Chick says, "You know Mr. Bones. He works at the hospital. He's a supervisor...."

Lightbulb! "I remember Bones! I haven't talked to him in ages. Tell him I'd still spank that behind in dominoes when he's ready."

Somewhere along the way, Bones calls me, we talk, and we eventually meet up for a game of dominoes. He beat me in a game with double 15s, but we both obviously enjoyed each other's company. The rest is history that has yet to be written. However (my favorite word of the moment), I shared something that I recognized about him: he's a dude that doesn't like to call. He loves hanging out in person, but he's just not a phone person. Therefore, he could easily disappear and leave me hanging. That concept drives me crazy, but our tense conversation led to the beginning of us both putting in more work towards our friendship.

I'm pretty much left with trying to determine if he is really in this friendship with me because he wants something serious or if he just wants to get physical with the young woman. I have to wonder because he is quite a bit older than me - he just doesn't look or act his age. So, my eyes are open, and I'm hoping I can completely open my heart to him slowly and in due time.

Epiphany

2007-07-10T16:18:00.000-05:00

I'm trying to be a cool employee while I'm still here. I don't know exactly when my time here will end and my time in a big rig begins, so I better be a team player in the meantime. Not so much that I look like I'm brown-nosing, but some of y'all know the happy medium. So, when I get e-mail about volunteering for a project about our company's website, I go for it. How hard can it be? I won't go into details because I try to be as professional as possible (although I'm wearing jogging pants and a sorority tee as I type), but it's quite easy and would make me look good just for volunteering for a mundane task.

At 3 PM, I have to attend the meeting with Yoga Guy. From what I hear, he's a biz wiz, but he's also a master yoga instructor. Yoga Guy must be for real because he's always so calm and serene in Lunch and Learn meetings when telling our small group how our company has the best product in our field. Let the VP of Sales tell the same deal to the same people, and you'd think he was earning the commission of a lifetime. All of Yoga Guy's serenity makes me think of Mr. Rogers without the cardigan and trolley. So, I enter his sweatbox of an office where I can imagine him in various yoga positions throughout the day as he takes advantage of the heat. He calls in the head IT person to help explain my part of the project. It's crystal clear what I'm doing.

Then, IT guy and Yoga Guy get into some other "meta" talk. HTML content appears on the screen, Yoga Guy starts highlighting, and I can literally hear Beavis saying, "Words, words, words, words...." This means nothing to me, so I start to check out of the meeting from my seat.

My mind miraculously flitters to Bones. My heart didn't start thinking of how much I like him or how I rank him about a 7 in the face. As most minds tend to do during the day, my reverie settled on the last time we touched in a special way. There was no sex because it's too early for that. But there's something my older gentleman friend does to me, coupled with the personality chemistry, that makes me even more sensitive to his touches, kisses, licks, and whatever else he can come up with. The last time we got together, I got down to my unmentionables, and he got me to writhing in pleasure, cooing in ectasy, and tugging at the bed linens. Bones surprisingly drove me over the edge when he bit my inner thigh coupled with two other moves at the same time. My first real orgasm without taking off my underwear or having one of God's masterpieces inside of me or all over and around my "flower".

The only thing that made sense at the time was to return the favor to Bones. Nibbling on ears, kissing and sucking on his neck, caressing his nipples and all over his chocolate legs. My hands found a hot spot that was not standing at attention, so I worked that spot so I could blow his mind while avoiding the label of being a tease. The power and pleasure that I felt when Bones was breathing hard, then loudly moaning, then almost screaming made me work that much more at pleasing him.

While I returned to nibble and lick all over his ear again, Bones suddenly could speak English again. "What do you want from me?" he panted out.

Without thinking of games or his impression of me, I immediately gave him the truest and simplest answer in a breathy whisper: "You."

This seemed to take him to a new point, and it drove me even more at devising new variations of attacking Bones with my hands and mouth. It wasn't long before he was at an ecstatic point like I had been. We cuddled together, whispered a few more thoughts, and drifted to sleep. I awoke in the morning, and finally parted ways with the new skip in my heartbeat.

In the middle of the reverie in Yoga Guy's office, I had a half-second of clarity. That breathy answer of "You" might have been the tip of the iceberg that potentally did in a budding relationship. I came to that realization based on what I read in the book: "Men like mystery. You can't give away too much too soon, physically, emotionally, or otherwise." I gave him my honest heartfelt answer after a few weeks of good times together, not a mysteriously seductive answer like, "Wouldn't you like to know what I want from you?" I could hear such a cool response coming from me, and my imagination rewarded me with the possible sound of Bones going crazy over not knowing what was going on but already knowing he wanted to keep working to get to the bottom of it. My simple answer of "You" had already removed a lot of necessity to work hard because he already had me panting for him because he already knew I was ready for him. Already. Probably ahead of what someone might consider a normal timefram. Probably too fast for his age group (um...45 - 60; not 59 and a 1/2, but I'm not saying). Nowhere close to cool and composed because my heart was completely accessible to him with some effort but not all of the effort that books and real conversations with men would lead to believe that an interested man requires.

By the time I blinked out of my moment of reflection, I felt numb. I didn't hear the rest of the "meta" talk. I just heard, "Damn."

Even as I'm typing, I'm still hearing, "Damn," because I still like Bones. However, after 6 days without an acknowledgement from him, I have to allow myself to feel the pain of his absence and the silent rejection. Interestingly, I received two calls in two days from two guys (including Nutcase) I don't give a damn about, so those calls don't relieve any of the pain. It's odd feeling this much emotion for someone I was not officially involved with, but it is what it is. Damn.

So, I have to be one of those girls in the advice books that I aspire to be. Recognize the hurt, shed a tear, and keep moving. Lastly, I'm keeping the advice of my late cousin, DeWayne, in mind: If he calls, he calls. If he doesn't, don't worry about it. Just keep moving without focusing on him, worrying about him, or daring to call him. I still remember those words from the last conversation I had with him, so I'll keep those words close to me. Those words are closer than Bones' phone numbers because those have been deleted from the phone. I'm not calling.

Epiphany indeed.

2007-07-08T22:21:00.001-05:00

He's on my mind when I open my eyes. I have to remember to thank God for waking me up again because He didn't have to wake me up, and then my mind goes back to him. Each day of the past week, I've thought of my friend, "Bones" the domino player, extensively. I got to see him three times last week, and it was delicious. I replay our conversations, cuddles, and kisses because they're all so..."cracktacular". Yes, everything I'm experiencing about my recently resurrected friend is that addictive and enjoyable for me. Anything different from what I endured with that big nosed Sam should be orgasmic.

Of course, there has to be complications. What would a "love life" be without complications? The one complication that is really messing with me is how Bones is already playing that same game that a lot of guys play, whether intentional or not. I haven't seen or heard from him since the 4th of July when we saw a beautiful fireworks display. I had some family with me, and he had family and friends in his entourage, but we managed to cuddle together on his blanket as I oohed and awwed at the specatacular. I usually act like I'm 10 when there are pyrotechnics in the sky...not the neighborhood variety, but the professional ones. We regrettably had to part ways, but we shared a nice hug. Haven't heard from him since.

Now, I find myself consumed with two books that are proving to provide glorious advice to eager and anxious women like me. The basic idea that I'm embracing is "Don't call him; let him call you." What I'm hoping is the reason my friend isn't calling is because "He doesn't want to appear weak by being to eager to call. He's hoping to maintain control in the situation." Maybe.... But does it really have to take 4 days to maintain that self-control? Two days oughta do it. Hell, the way I see it, you're never weak if you reach out to the woman who makes you smile and laugh more easily than you have in sometime. But that's my warped female's logic.

I just have to wait it out because there's no way I'm calling him based on the history with Bones (more on that later). The next time he does call, I'll have to play the game with him. He'll call; I won't act mad that he hasn't called for several days; the conversation will last 5 -10 minutes; and I'll end the conversation with, "Thanks for calling, but I've got a lot going on over here. Can we talk later?" Would he really say no? He better not. So, the call would end on my terms, and he wouldn't hear from me again for several days. If I can wait, so can he, right?

The sad thing: I honestly don't like playing "the game". If you like someone, then just put yourself out there to get to know them, get closer, and hopefully develop something real. You can exercise some self-preservation (I hate that phrase) in the beginning because it's natural to keep your guard up. But how can you set up your guard against someone when you don't take the time to talk to them or spend time with them? Frankly, my guard is not just a wall; I have a woman in uniform with her shooting hand gently poised on her gun holster just waiting for the cue. She's calm and easy-going for now because the boss doesn't want things to go immediately to being messy, but the guard is cocked and loaded if there's some mess ahead.

Proud of my progress

2007-06-21T16:44:00.000-05:00

There was something in my personal inbox at work. Not completely unusual, but I was intrigued. I went to the inbox, and the preview screen immediately showed all of this pretty writing with a pretty background. It's not like it was an evite to a hot event, but I was still intrigued. When the full document opened, it showed me various ice cream images. I read the writing a little closer and saw the fuschia doom my company just brought to me: "An Afternoon Ice Cream Social". Today at 3 PM.

WTH??? You've got to be kidding me. I just started being a good girl again trying to refocus my workout habits and eating habits. My lunch bag was full of healty sandwiches (just two) with lettuce, tomato, onion, and 2% pepperjack cheese (at least twice the price of the Kroger brand regular cheese). Sista trying to progress, and you want to reward the company with an ice cream social? Damn.

What to do? Ice cream is a very special treat, and it was free, too??? Are you serious?

Well, goody for your girl. I watched the clock approach 3 PM. That's when all of the IT guys (ok, there's that Indian chick over there, too, but she's a sweetheart) got excited and jumped up for ice cream. Everyone was so excited about this treat. It was almost like an end of year party in a second grade classrom, except we were in one of the conference rooms. All kinds of quarts of Edy's, Breyers, and Mayfield jsut waiting on people to dive in.

"Come on in! I'm not waiting to serve you," our office manager prompted. I only shook my head and walked away. But I didn't want to feel completely left out of the fun. After all, even the suavest dude in the IT department was running around like a giddy kid because of that frozen treat. I had to have a peice of the euphoria. So I kindly took myself to the kitchen, got my sugar-free (Splenda made from sucralose cuz I done told y'all about that damn aspartame) Mint Chocolate Jell-O pudding cup, and walked into the conference room to confront my current devil. Cookies and Cream, Butter Pecan, Moose Tracks, plain old creamy delicious Vanilla, and more. But yo' girl was really on point because I just walked in, got a plastic spoon, and walked out.

Could I top that? Some people went back for seconds meaning there was more left. I even sat facing three others eating ice cream in my face. But I happily ate my pudding while they enthusiastically pigged out on their ice cream. Yay for me!

Even cooler than that: there was still left over ice cream on Wednesday and Thursday, and I never touched it. Never even looked for it. Why? Because it's about damn time I show some discipline. There's so much out there that I want, but I can't have it if I want to continue to eat any old kind of way. Ice cream cannot be eaten just because it's being offered. Strength, courage, and wisdom have to play a role somewhere in my life, and my fitness goals would be a great place to start. If I can maintain that kind of discipline, who knows what else I can do in other areas?

So a big middle finger goes to Edy's for their rich and creamy Cookies and Cream because I didn't eat any on Tuesday. I'll pull back that finger when I get down to another size.

Finish the sentence!

2007-06-18T14:51:00.000-05:00

Finish the sentence:

1. My ex:
really was the last guy who was a "friend" that wanted to become my "man", but it never materialized. He taught me to be careful who you wind up calling your friend.

2. I am listening to:
inane chatter from my job.

3. Maybe I should:
seriously concentrate on getting that CDL so I can get to driving those 18-wheelers. Before I do that, gotta concentrate on losing weight.

4. I love:
God, my family, my friends, my soRHOrity (don't hate), myself

5. My best friend[s]:
is a crazy chica. So crazy that I'm using crimson just for her. I love that girl to pieces!

6. I don't understand:
this dumb "stop snitching" phenomenon. WTH? So if your best friend is killed in front of you, and his/her family is left without their rock, you won't say anything because you're coooperating with the cops? So you're scared to lose your clout with the other fools? You look more like a punk for not doing the right thing despite what others think. That's why I have no respect for Busta Rhymes.

7. I lose:
patience with idiots. Just take 5 seconds to read, think for yourself, or listen. That isht ain't that hard.

8. The meaning of my screen name is:
I've always been natural born sunshyne. Such a lovely girl. But, there's been a change in that girl, and that woman named sunshyne that will show you love will also burn yo' ass in a minute. Just gimme one good reason.... Just cross me one good time....

9. Love is:
knowing the balance between being selfless and a self-conservationist.

10. Somewhere, someone is:
already plotting how they'll claim a sick day for the 4th of July.

11. I will always:
look younger than my years (as long as I'm sticking with good clean living). What can I say; I have great genes!

12. Forever seems:
like the workday.....

13. I never want to:
get gastric bypass or liposuction. Ride with someone who is drunk off their ass.

14. My cell phone is:
a basic means of communication but BlueTooth compatible. :D

15. When I wake up in the morning:
I use my foot to reset the snooze on the alarm to catch a few more winks. I really want to wake up at least 2X a week for an early workout, but I gotta jet out of the house by 7:30 at the absolute latest. :(

16. I get annoyed when:
there are fraudulent people or persons with dirty business ethics around me. also, why didn't you take the time to look and see that you were ashy before leaving the house???

17. Parties are:
best at the house, especially when they're rare, not often.

18. My Dog is:
a runaway b****. She actually ran away once and was gone for 12 days (according to my dad). She ran away again and was gone for 4 days this time. She'll never see the front yard without a leash again.

19. Kisses are the worst when:
one party is a smoker.

20. Today I:
bought a sports bra at Target and got in touch with a friend from HS so I could support his frat's function.

21. Tonight I will:
order some stuff on the Internets, go work out, and fix my lunch for tommorrow. Not too much hanging on a Monday.

22. Tomorrow I will:
probably call someone I haven't talked to in a while, workout again, make more lunch, and get ready for Wednesday. Dang.

23. I really want:
to win the lottery and see world peace. Besides that, I need focus and concentration on all of my goals. Tomorrow is not promised, so I need to make the most of today, everyday.

Aspartame is the devil!

2007-06-13T14:29:00.000-05:00

Y'all know that the cute artificial sweetner, Equal, is mostly comprised of aspartame, right? I knew about the harm in saccharin. Sweet N Low has never tasted right to me, and I will not use it. If that (or a low budget version) is the only sweetner available, then I won't have coffee or tea that day.

But Equal in the cute blue packet??? I still can't believe it's so bad for you, but I've done my research. Type an Internet search with a phrase like "equal + cancer" or "splenda is bad for you". There's all kind of research out there about Equal; I can't speak on Splenda. I can confirm that I've given up artificial sweeteners. I'd rather take the 15 calories per teaspoon than the harm.

What harm? Well, Equal was proven to give cancer to lab rats. Sprinkle a little Equal on an ant hill, and the ants will be dead. On a personal level, my head is really banging. Badly. I just happened to have some fat free yogurt. The first taste was so off the chain! I really thought I was tasting Wild Berry Crumb Cake. "Could this really be fat free for real?" I thought. "Hot damn!"

So, I had no choice but to read the label and see if this berrylicious creamy wonder with the taste of cake in it was really fat free. Oh, it's fat free alright with aspartame. Granted, aspartame is the last ingredient, and traditionally, the further down the list of ingredients an item, the less of the ingredient you will find in the food. However, I got a bad headache after the first bite. The headache is still lingering 60 minutes later. I had to rinse the rest of it down the drain.

Such drama after a healthy start to my day! Sort of... I woke up at 4:55 AM to hear my dog barking like crazy. This time, she wasn't crazy after all; the sensor light had come on. I used my left hand to open the kitchen door because the biggest butcher knife I could use for self-defense was tightly gripped in my right hand. No one could be seen. So, I locked the house back up and put the knife in place. About 10 minutes later, Sharmay is barking like crazy again, and the sensor light is shining again. I open the door, and Sharmay is still barking like she's cussing somebody out.

Rather than me chase down a possible radio thief (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to break into my car), I opened the gate and let Sharmay run into the front yard to bite a chunk outta somebody. Well, everything was quiet when I got to see the entire front, and my dog was staring at a stray. Just staring like she was saying, "Try me."

But I know my dog has runaway tendancies. I called her name. She crossed the street. I called her again while giving the command, "Backyard!" That set her off barking down the street after this dog that was at least 3 times her little ass size. Haven't seen that bitch since.

After a ride in my car whistling out in the cool 5 AM air, I said, "F*** it," and got dressed out to go for a walk. I hadn't really been working out successfully since we started commuting our new office about 50 - 70 minutes from my residence. I got the MP3 and starting pumping my arms to OutKast while the sun was rising on a new day. I actually had the nerve to insert three one-minute jogs while I walked. That's was a sweaty mess, but I needed the sweat. It felt good to jog for at least one minute while pushing myself. The next thing will be building up to 90 seconds instead of just 60.

So, see how my day started well, and now it's starting to go slightly downhill with this aspartame-induced headache. I won't let it stay downhill because I'm going to the gym for tonight's 8 PM Hip Hop class. I truly hate to miss it these days. There are some dancers in the class, but it's really all in fun and doing what you can to get fit. Period.

PS Marinate on this wonderful forward that my homegirl sent me.

The Wooden Bowl

I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table.

But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about father," said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor." So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl!

When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?"

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life.."

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt in both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.

I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.

I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

I've learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch -- holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

I've learned that you should pass this on to everyone you care about. I just did.

NOTICE AT THE END, THE DATE THE CANDLE WAS STARTED. IT'S GONNA GIVE YOU GOOSE BUMPS.
I am not going to be the one who lets it die. I found it believable -- angels have walked beside me all my life--and they still do. *********************This is to all of you who mean something to me,I pray for your happiness.
The Candle Of Love, Hope & Friendship

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This candle was lit on the 15th of September, 1998. Someone who loves you has helped keep it alive by sending it to you.

Don't let The Candle of Love, Hope and Friendship die!

Pass it one to all of your friends and everyone you love. May God richly bless you!
Please keep this candle alive

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

I know LA is a different world, but come on!

2007-05-23T13:41:00.000-05:00

This whole article was so engrossing and unbelievable that I gasped reading every part of it. You wouldn't believe that a human life would be so devalued. I honestly hope that someone finds the head nurse and beats her black, blue, purple, and any other colors she can turn. The hospital needs to be shut down permanently, and the cops need to share some of the blame in the senseless loss. I hope that family sues the shit out of anyone connected so this can be a lesson to all hospitals, health care workers, private practitioners, and officers of the law.

BTW, you should always have a patient's right advocate with you at the hospital. If you can help it, do not go alone, and do not let your advocate be a punk. S/he has to be firm. Being a beast would be helpful, too.

Tale of last 90 minutes of woman's life
County officials express dismay at the events surrounding the recent controversial death at King-Harbor hospital. One nurse has resigned.

In the emergency room at Martin Luther King Jr.-Harbor Hospital, Edith Isabel Rodriguez was seen as a complainer.

"Thanks a lot, officers," an emergency room nurse told Los Angeles County police who brought in Rodriguez early May 9 after finding her in front of the Willowbrook hospital yelling for help. "This is her third time here."

The 43-year-old mother of three had been released from the emergency room hours earlier, her third visit in three days for abdominal pain. She'd been given prescription medication and a doctor's appointment.

Turning to Rodriguez, the nurse said, "You have already been seen, and there is nothing we can do," according to a report by the county office of public safety, which provides security at the hospital.

Parked in the emergency room lobby in a wheelchair after police left, she fell to the floor. She lay on the linoleum, writhing in pain, for 45 minutes, as staffers worked at their desks and numerous patients looked on.

Aside from one patient who briefly checked on her condition, no one helped her. A janitor cleaned the floor around her as if she were a piece of furniture. A closed-circuit camera captured everyone's apparent indifference.

Read the rest of this foolishness here:

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-king20may20,0,6057993.story?coll=la-home-center

2007-04-30T15:03:00.000-05:00

One o'clock came, and I left my seat. It should have spun around like a kid's toy I got out of it so fast. I couldn't wait to drive out on my break and deposit the cash and checks from my party this weekend. I didn't come back with a mint, but I had a nice sum for someone who's trying to push through and get away from "it's so hard...." to "I got this!".

The cool thing is that I sold every G-Wiz I brought with me. I can sell the hell out of that thang! I sold some other toys, and I finally sold my first Butterfly!!! I'm beyond excited that I finally sold my first big item toy. One of the ones that requires a Limited Lifetime Warranty.

Best of all: I got two parties out of the deal!!! That's where the bucks continue to come in, especially with repeat customers.

I just realized that I actually do have a third party out of the deal, and that was one of the goals: book three parties. I can't believe I acheived one of my goals!!! The third party will be in August, but I got it!!!

On the real... There's nothing like moving back in with your parents to put things in real perspective. It makes you spend your money a little more carefully. You want to invest in what will get you ahead of the game. You want to spend less so you can save more. Really, you just want to avoid all the BS out there. If there's isht hitting the fan, you don't want to be in the same house with it so not a piece of isht gets on you.

Now that I have a great party down, and two more coming up in May, I gotta get back on the next grind - working out at the gym again. More on that later....
OK, I didn't do all that I set out to do. I really wanted to convince

2007-04-27T15:22:00.000-05:00

I'm finally catching on fire in this Slumber Parties thing. I think the hunger caught on when I spent over $300 to carry some stock with me to the party. Sales increase when you have items for the ladies to take home. Since I didn't have rent money to give to someone else, I bit the bullet and decided to invest in myself and my business. So, this party on Saturday night must be on point so I can bring home a nice profit. Sista got package deals and errythang.

I'm still hungry as hell because I need more parties after this one. I could just be shy and try to bank on reaching (or surpassing!) the goal of booking 3 parties tomorrow night. That's always the best way to get more parties: try to get the ladies in front of you who trust you and know you are fun to have their own party! Well, I'm going to a Greek Mixer tonight, and I have a goal of booking at least one party with someone at the function tonight. I don't care what organization she is, and I don't care if there's a guy who wants a card to give to his non-Greek girlfriend or wife. Someone is booking a party tonight!

This is so serious that I've already come up with a nice "Greek Mixer Special". If a lady books her party with me tonight and holds the party, she'll automatically earn a 15% hostess credit instead of the usual 10%. On top of that, if she's able to get at least 20 ladies there, she'll get $25 more in credit. If the sales are $500 or greater, she'll earn another $25 in credit. If she's so big and bad that she and her guests can rack up $700 in sales, then the hostess will earn 40% off any one item she wants.

You think I won't book a party tonight??? Watch me....

Prouder than a papa peacock watching eggs hatch

2007-04-24T15:04:00.000-05:00

I'm really proud of accomplishing something small because I'm trying to make a big ol' comeback after having someone rob my apartment. Trust me...more on this shortly.

Finally, I did something to start building my business. I used the technology provided by Slumber Parties to generate my own professional ad!!! I actually did it all by myself. I even got a nifty logo out of it that says "Slumber Parties by ____".

I know it seems silly to be so proud of something that might seem easy to some, but I've got a long ways to go from where I've been since last weekend. This is a baby step in the right direction. Now, the key will be continuing to take those unsure, wobbly baby steps that will evolve into long, confident strides because I know exactly what I'm doing.

First, I have to overcome some hurdles. I actually see a whole line of hurdles in front of me when I think of what I've had to go through recently. Two Saturdays ago, I visited my parents' house (unusual for a Saturday night) because my grandma was over there. She usually doesn't venture from the Eastside, but she had to come home with my Dad for a while. He was being a good Mama's boy and staying with her over the weekend while my uncle and aunt went out of town. That impressed me, too. Well, my 1 -2 hour visit turned into a sleepover. My brother, NOPI, spent the night, too, after coming back from a night of partying.

Well, we cut up for a while with Mom and our nephew who spent the night, too. NOPI leaves first while I cut up a little longer with my Mom. NOPI calls me while I'm in the car to tell me we were robbed. Robbed? Us? In East Point? About 2 miles from the Police Department? Noooo.... There must be a mistake. Um...there were plenty of mistakes made.

I won't go into detail, but we have a good idea who did it. The police are aware and just need to get 100% on the ball.

Meanwhile, we can't stay around the foolishness. We were literally going to move around the corner into a wonderful house with hardwood floors, way too much space, a pecan tree in the back, and quietness. Yes, a few hundred feet really would've provided a quieter atmosphere. We had to drop that and do one of the most humbling things I've ever done to date: we moved back into our parents' home.

I may have to go into those details later, but it still makes me emotional just thinking of going back home. The silver lining in the move is that maybe God put me in this position to get me ready for something wayyy greater than renting a house. Maybe there are some steps I'm gonna have to take that'll get me to being a homeowner sooner than I think. I still remember reading a book about a setback is not a step back; it's a step forward. I'll need to reread that and focus on that entire concept because I sincerely believe that I'm being set up for something bigger than I could imagine.

Despite the line of business I'm in, I really think God wants me to take myself to the next level with my SlumberParties business. It makes total sense right now.

Lastly, I had to drop that dude Sam. The abridged version: it just wasn't gonna work. Just wasn't. He's a nice guy but too many issues, and I never really had an infatuation or love for him. I liked what he did for me, not who he was. Believe it or not, the probability of me hurting him deep down in the long run was more concerning to me because that had more chance of coming true than the probability of me falling for him. I really want to get deep on this.

Shoutout to SupaChica for becoming my sister in Greekdom as she crossed into DeltaLand through the Marietta-Roswell Alumnae Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta. I love you, girl! (I would give more info, but I don't want to reveal her identity without her permission because some people really are computer savvy and might try to look up her info. See how I got yo' back? But don't look for too much more Crimson and Creme on my blog in the future. LOL)

It's all over, but it's GRRRREAT!!!

2007-04-01T19:13:00.000-05:00

I'm still someone on Cloud 22. Cloud 9 didn't exist last night when it was announced that the winner for the sororities was Sigma Gamma Rho, Eta Sigma chapter. Just typing those words is still a shock to my system. In the years that the Stone Mountain-Lithonia Alumnae Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta hosted the show (which is a HUGE moneymaker), no other team had won first place except the Deltas, no matter what chapter. Year Six came around, and Atlanta had no idea what my step team had in store.

Not only did we win First Place for the sororities, but we also won the awared for the crunkest step performance overall. It's amazing that we stepped that hard, that crunk, for that long, and there was no other team that was judged to be better. The only thing more amazing was hearing the words, "Second place goes to...Delta Sigma Theta." We knew we had it, but we had to make sure, so we had to tell some of our members to not get excited until it was officially announced that the Zetas hadn't won first place. When those sweet words hit our ears, I was frozen with shock. Then, I started jumping myself up and down, hugging my sorors on stage while a single tear escaped the corner of my eye but didn't roll down my cheek. Hugs went around for quite some time before we went to pose with our humongous trophy for pictures. We also won the award for the crunkest overall performance, male or female.

Some of you may not understand, but history was made last night. We beat of team of Deltas...in Atlanta, which can be nicknamed Deltaland. Not only did we beat the team, but we beat them at a show sponsored by their sorority. I've never seen so many Deltas ride out of a parking lot so fast.

The three months of practice paid off, and I'm so proud to say I was a part of it all. One of the best parts was seeing one of my sorors who drove all the way from Florida to see us again. (If you're reading, thanks hun.) Another great thing: a Zeta stopped me and made sure to tell me, "You held it down on the stage for the big girls." That was my goal! I might be big girl, but I didn't not want to get on that stage and be tired after 1 minute. I was exhausted afterward...as in breathing problems and slight chest pain complicated by allergies. But I was "rockin'" it, as my Dad said after watching us.

Will we step again? We don't know yet. We just know we won one of the biggest shows in Atlanta, and it's because we went into the arena with a first place attitude. We got crunk in the dressing room and made it happen, shawty!!!

2007-03-20T18:59:00.000-05:00

Something's wrong with me. Can't quite put my finger on the general problem, but the symptoms are easy to identify.

I've met this very nice guy. Very nice personality, but he honestly doesn't have the very nice physical package that I like. Already, I'm sighing at this concept, but I know what I like, just like guys know what they like. He looks at me, and I see that wide smile spread across his chocolate face. I look at him, and I don't hear bells ringing becuase it's a match made in heaven. For me, it's just a date to get to know someone. I'm not sure what it is for him, but things have changed since that first, very awkward date at Chili's.

My new friend will be called Sam because he can follow his very wide nose just as good as Toucan Sam can follow his to Froot Loops. I'm not exaggerating. I didn't think God made noses that wide unless there's a pregnant woman that spread everywhere. If Sam was into drugs, he would not be invited to do a line of cocaine. Probably because he'd inadvertently do two lines. But beyond that, Sam is reasonably decent looking. He's the color of a dark chocolate candy bar with beautiful milk chocolate (not hazel) eyes. Sam smiles easily and carries himself with confidence. Now, he does carry well over 300 pounds on his 5'11" frame, and I'll admit that bothers me -- even though I'm no where near 105. I love men with meat on their bones, and he doesn't have to be some cockdiesel brotha that lives in the gym because he can't go a day without popping the veins in his neck. I like 'em kinda like Cedric the Entertainer. Meaty and cuddly but not so meaty that I fear the idea of him laying on top of me. But he has decent breath! I can't take 24 hour bad breath, and Sam doesn't have oral hygiene issues. One point for Sam.

While I can go on and on about physical attributes I don't like, the sweet side of him can be a long list, too. I can appreciate the many things he's done for me. First of all, he lives in a different large Georgia city, so he drives over an hour to see me. He even did that recently on a Thursday night...and he didn't get any loving! On another day, he's driven out of the way to see me, and he washed and waxed my car. It was easy for him because he worked in the car detailing industry for a while. He does lots a great things with complete unselfishness because he is crazy for me just the way I am.

How long have I been waiting to have someone feel that way for me??? Too long. But why can't I accept him in the package that he's in? Perfection does not describe me, so it's easy to admit that it's not fair to expect perfection for him. I honestly would like him to have some of the major points like a decent physique and being in Metro Atlanta. *sigh*

But of course there's more to the story. It can't be that cut and dry. I would tell what more there is, but then I'd have to go into more details on why we're on hiatus. Like I told Sam, it's not a breakup (because we're not a couple). It's just a small break for us to regroup and start anew, and we can't communicate during the break. He may get a call before the week is out, but I still have a lot of thinking to do. But I haven't thought that hard about it because I'm enjoying the silence and my phone not ringing with "I'm Sprung" whenever Sam calls.

Yeah, something is wrong with the kid.

2007-03-06T17:53:00.000-05:00

I miss New Orleans so much!!! I had a blast there!

I'm sure that I forgot to mention that I went to my Slumber Parties National Convention in The Big Easy, and it was the most fun ever! There was a lot of learning, networking, and lightbulb moments. Best believe there was plenty of fun with my random roommates, members of my Georgia Peaches family, and the men of Nawlins.

I must share more later. But never deny the power in a fabulous wig. Everyone swears that the wig looks like it should be growing out of my head. Give me a little time to post a pic.

Remember folks: Never make anyone a priority if they make you an option.

2007-02-14T09:42:00.000-05:00

Boredom has set in lately. So, to avoid the boredom, I called one of those chat lines. I honestly haven't been meeting any guys lately because I'm always doing something with women that has me holed up in a house. Seriously, step practice is Monday and Wednesday at my soror's home, and I'm always trying to do something with Slumber Parties, and that involves more women. So, I decided to try it out because even when I meet guys on the street, they are nowhere close to what I'm looking for.

This goes against NOPI's conventional little brother wisdom. "That's where you go to find hoes. You don't find love on that line."

Moi: "But I'm not looking for love. I'm just looking to kick it. If a dude falls head over heels for me, then cool. If he doesn't, then I still got to keep some company with the opposite sex with a clear understanding of where things are."

NOPI gives me one of those "Are you serious?" looks again. "That's nice that you think it can work that way, but if a dude is looking for a ho, and he gets a nice, cool girl with a good head on her shoulders, he's still gonna try to bring out her inner ho because every cool girl has one."

Now, that's true. A woman who wants to be perceived as decent operates under that M.O.: lady in the streets, freak in the sheets. Makes sense, so I can't be mad at NOPI's logic. I don't like it, but it's the reality of the situation I put myself into.

So, I've met three guys on the line, and one is hiding. Maybe something is wrong with him. I know nothing is wrong with me because I sent him a very cute pic of myself (something I should put on this profile) looking all glossed up and eyes just a-poppin'. We've talked since he's received the picture, but I still don't have one for him. Hmmm.... Regardless (and it's not irregardless because that ain't a word), everyone is always a friend until further notice, and I'm not looking for more than a friend right now anyway. If someone becomes more than a friend, then that's splendid. If it's just platonic like it is with the dude who is hiding, then that's fine, too.

But Special K has to come along. It's still hilarious to me that he popped into my world, and we literally grew up in the same neighborhood. He grew up in the front of my subdivision, and I was in the back of the subdivision by the church. He knew a lot of the names that I knew, and we reminisced and dropped names for a long time. Absolutely amazing. We finally met last Friday and had a decent time together. I didn't get a hug, and that was cool because quite frankly, his breath was rancid. I don't get why some guys don't know that breath strips, breath mints, or even peppermints actually exist. They are not a part of someone's vivid imagination.

Well, Special K and I have been talking. Then he sends this text message saying he wants to talk to me about something. Cool. I'm down for convo because we both are two cool people that like honesty. Special K sounds somewhat nervous and then asks, "What are your intentions towards me?"

.....

.....

.....

That was the intial response because that's a damn girl question. Especially a young naive girl who doesn't know any better than to ask a guy a question like that. I asked that when I was maybe 20, and I didn't get a real answer until the situation got crazy. He finally answered with, "I thought we could have had a future together." WTF? And that was pretty much the response I had last night.

ME: "I honestly can't answer that. I don't know at this time." Safe. Easy. Non-commital. "What about your intentions?"

Special K: "Well, I see us as friends."

Me: "Umm....I thought that was exactly where we are right now."

Special K: "Well, I just wanted things to be clear for both of us. I didn't want one of us talking about how we met someone and things become awkward because one of us likes the other one."

That's some weirdness to me because things were just cool as we ran under the assumption of being platonic friends. I've always ran with the rule "Friends until further notice", and that's the same rule that a guy can use with me. It's a great rule that keeps things clear until you need a discussion about "I think I like you as more than a friend". So, Special K's big announcement really should've been kept to himself. He has more of a reason to shut up about it because later in the call....

Special K: "OK, let me straight with you about everything. I've been talking to my ex [of 1 year], and things are cool right now. There's no commitment, but we might be looking at getting back together."

Now, that was a classic case of a few sentences too many in a conov. I was cool at "Let's be friends". Great. But now you've been talking to your ex that is your ex for a reason. Now, realistically, he can do that. I've done that, and it's a reality. I don't like the part that he started getting to know me and already assigned me to the friend role, especially when his ex comes along. It's not too serious, but I feel kinda used. Like a rebound girl. As far as I know, I've never been a rebound girl until now. That stuff ain't cute, especially when it's revealed who you are. Damn honesty....

So...all of that comes around to the final detail. Special K is gonna want me at some point. How do I know? Because I'm gonna make it so. Dude will want me within the next year, and I'll gladly decline. I remember one of my old friends did that to a guy, and I thought it was so mean. Now, I completely understand why she did it. I'm not one for being used or played. But you wanna play? Cool. Let the games begin, buddy. (And not on a Musiq tip...no special arrangements here.)

New Mantra

2007-02-08T17:26:00.000-05:00

I'm taking baby steps as I get my Slumber Parties business to grow and flourish. I know that it's a great business with great products including lingerie, sex toys, and lotions. We have great stuff and great support, but what do I have? Do I have the drive to make it happen for real for real?

I believe that I do. I just found the perfect mantra for my business and my life in general.

Kick your own a$$ every day.

You won't make a real difference in your life if you keep letting yourself slide each and every day. Take my eating habits. I gotta be more strict about eating treats or foods that aren't good for me. So what can I do to kick my own a$$? Well, I was real good and bypassed the Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch that was on sale. I got Fruit and Cream Variety Pack of Kroger Oatmeal. It was regular sugar, and I can tell that I'm getting more accustomed to less sugar. But it's what I have to do. I can't throw in the towel just because it's getting hard. I can't take the easy way out just because I can clean up the mistake by starting over again.

So, I'm kicking my own butt in business, too. I have a goal to meet one new person whenever I'm out. That one new person is better than no new people at all. Same thing with the weight loss. I was beat the hell up when I was jogging uphill, but I know it'll pay off in the long run.

Off to make money (and I only typed for 6 minutes. Doug E. Fresh, you're on!)

I feel so grown up!

2007-01-26T16:32:00.000-05:00

Reading is fundamental. If I had read about a week ago, I would've known how easy it was to finally post my pic. It really wasn't that hard at all. Just...read.

Cute, ain't it? Not egomaniac gorgeous, but definitely cute. I caught my afro on a real good and fluffy day. Notice how I had time to take this pic at work.

A lot has happened this week, and I don't know if I want to make that much time to comment on it all. My time is moreso needed for working my Slumber Parties business. That's what I'll be doing this Friday night. There's no party for me to play fabulous host to, but I'll definitely be at a Slumber Party next Friday night on the third. I'm hoping that I can shine, make a hilarious (but educational) evening for the ladies, and make a nice profit. See, my faith and belief in myself and this company will be tested with this party. I bought quite a bit of merchandise to have in stock with me on the night of that party. First time ever trying to carry stock. I'm still trying to build my demo at the same time, so this is a precarious moment. I'm sure I'll do okay, but there are two concrete goals: A. sell a bare minimum of $500 in product, and B. book 2 additional parties, hopefully one in February.

At least I'll be in the NO for Convention later in Feb. Hopefully, I'll have some great pics to post here.

Why did I spend most of the afternoon searching for a new cell phone online? I have a Motorola RAZR, or however you spell the crap. I bought it b/c I killed my phone after dropping it one too many times, and I was not about to pay $70 copay for the same phone. So, I basically sold my soul to the TMobile devils by buying a $50 phone which extended my contract for another 2 years. Hopefully, my search for an unlocked phone will pay off. I'm in love with my coworker's Sony Ericsson W600.

Isn't it pretty??? It's my favorite color: orange. That color that everyone cannot get into or even wear, but it's a color I've loved since college. It has an alternate blue "cover" (or whatever), too. Beautiful! And it's so cute in so many ways. The cool part: I read some reviews on Amazon, and everyone loved it. Even my coworker loves it! I'm gonna have to get this phone/camera/music player/FM radio. The search is on this weekend!

2007-01-18T10:16:00.000-05:00

I'm trying to catch up with the rest of the world. I already have a MySpace account that I barely use. It's easy to see the usefulness of it if you can connect with long lost friends, but there's so mnay crazy stories out there about folks moving in with each other, then coming home to find their house or apartment more naked than a newborn baby. I just plan to use sense when I operate on MySpace. Besides, my cousins are on there, and my bestest friend in the whole wide world keeps sending me messages. SupaChica, you're the shiznit!

But why can't I upload a picture I took yesterday to this account? I'm sorry that I haven't signed up for some new-fangled picture sharing or whatever. I guess I should just to make this easier. I love the idea of sharing my picture with the itty bitty (but I'm so glad to have ya!) readership I have. If anyone has any tips on uploading my photo here, like what website to go to, help me out. I sho freeshenate ya!

I went on an interesting date on Sunday with this decent guy I met. He was a little older than I wanted, but he was nice enough. Nice walk in Piedmont Park (and I plan to visit again just for walking and exercise...that's it), visit a Midtown restaurant which was nasty (Boo, Zocalo!), then visit Oakland Cemetery....

See, what had happened was I mentioned going there before with a previous boyfriend for A Day In The Park as they call it. You get to learn about Victorian Symbolism, African-American history, and women's history. Well, we walked up around 5:45, and it was getting dark. The guard was there and said nothing ever happens; a lot of the residents have been dead for well over a century. He mentioned the marker for The Unknown Citizens of Atlanta, which mostly holds slaves. Their wood markers had since disappeared, but of course no bodies had been removed. Well, interesting guy and I went to the back of the cemetery and paid our respects. That was a moving moment for me because before that, the closest I had really been to slavery was visiting Mt. Vernon (home of George Washington) in 7th Grade. Just being in the presence of that old 18th century stuff that was tended by slaves did touch me. The area for slaves was beyond peaceful...but I didn't want to spend the night.

We went to Oz Pizza and parted ways. He really acted like he didn't want to leave me, and we hugged nicely. Why haven't I heard from dude? It's okay because I wasn't really, really digging him. I just spent a warm Sunday with decent company, and I'm good to go.

Quickie

2007-01-10T16:57:00.000-05:00

I only have time to blog as much as I can until 5 pm because I got thangs to do. I always got thangs to do, but this time is very important. If only I could damn focus!!! I did that earlier today, and it felt so natural to focus on what I was doing...but I'm on company time, and I like keeping the company happy.

NOPI did make it on "Yo Momma"! He made it through 2 tough auditions, and MTV thought he was 1 of 5 people funny enough to rep College Park. Here's the irony: only two contestants were really from CP, and one dude was from out of state. Who new? Look for my red afro and Sigma Gamma Rho jacket in April or May. I'll keep you abreast.

For the past week or so, me and my new coworker, Ms. Zune, have been saying to each other, "I really love my job!" It's a real cool, laidback atmosphere because we can dress how we like, no one is all up in our grill talking about, "Why aren't you on the phone?" and our manager is hella cool. Why did our manager tell us today that our office will be moving...thanks to the parent company??? No one is happy about the move, especially a traffic hating heffa like me. That was one of the best perks of the job: a 20-30 minute communte not far from home. I could leave comfortably at 8:30 and still have time to spare. Everyone is hoping that the move will fall through, especially me, because I really don't want to be required to leave the house at 7:30. At least they're offering to tweak our schedules if need be. *sucking my teeth*

OK...it's 5:01. That's a lot of typing in 6 minutes ain't it? Love ya! Stay black...or white...red...whatevea you are....