unbelievable

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

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

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

"I's married now!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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....

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???

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!

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)