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Thursday, December 8, 2011


So I've got a little bone to pick. I was going over some old emails when I found a little email request I made, that never received a response.

First a little background: I'm pretty sure that if you wanted to find me you could but you wouldn't so you won't. I'm a little Black girl that works anonymously in a big Ivy League University. As a result, I have the occasional opportunity to literally rub elbows with the Glitterati, Literati and Cognoscenti- oh most definitely in a peon capacity, don't get it twisted- but I meet them nonetheless. And so far I've been generally impressed with how normal they are, few have put on airs and even fewer have been actual divas. But what I'm quickly discovering is how much those airs and diva-ish antics are generally inversely proportional to their actual importance, relevance and recognition in their given fields. Yes, you may eventually be a Nobel Laureate in Literature but right now you've got one book and a couple stories in The New Yorker. Sistah-girl, let over yourself. Please.

Which leads me to my email...nothing big, just a simple autograph request- not even for me- as a gift to a friend. I though the message was sufficiently fawning while not setting off stalker warning bells. And while I have had no less than the aforementioned Nobel Laurate tell me that she was more than happy to sign a book for me (provided I sent it to her office -oops I gave away my university right there didn't I?) I had someone with a couple good notices and a book of short stories not even deign to answer my email. That again I must say was flattering, respectful of their time and short on demands (as in none at all).

Now, I know I'm nobody, so no, you don't owe me anything. But I did read your book and it would have been nice to be respected and appreciated enough to merit a reply. If you don't have the time to sign a book, fine, just say so. If you're terrified that inviting me to your office for an autograph would potentially leave you exposed to a clingy, obsequious fan, then do like Miss Toni and tell me to send it to your department's secretary. But you can't even manage a response? Of any sort? Really. Really? Shame on you.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Peppermint Bark!

Ack! Williams-Sonoma's wonderful once a year treat -their specialty Peppermint Bark is on sale today (with free shipping!) and I'm broke.

I am absolutely heartbroken. The damn bark is too expensive normally (it doesn't stop me from buying it) but today only it's 25% off! That's a whole 5 bucks I would get to keep in my pocket (plus shipping!) while still enjoying the chocolate-y minty goodness. Why, oh why did it have to be today? Woe is me!

Oh well. I'm supposed to be on a diet (of sorts) anyway.

Monday, November 28, 2011


So this morning I look into my email inbox- one that was recently hacked- hunting for more weird emails. (I sent out a mass apology to everyone after my mom called me about it yesterday irate- absolutely terrified that someone had jumped through the internet and body-snatched me apparently). And I find that I have a new wink and new message on OkCupid. Now at the beginning of last week I did another tweak of my profile because I was certain that it wasn't projecting the "rainbow-friendly" image I wanted. Since then there have been two messages (or rather a wink and a message) plus a couple 4-star ratings that I just got from members indicating to me that perhaps, I'm now on the right track. The wink was from a cute-ish 28-year old and the other message was from a 25-year old Kentucky tranplant (KENTUCKY-really?), here’s what he wrote (no joke, I straight cut and pasted it for you):

"You're exactly the kind of woman I'm looking for. Let's throw all of this internet courtship business aside. "I don't want to meet you over drinks. I don't want to cook dinner with you. I want you to call me, at whatever hour, and say you just need someone to stay over. I want you to say you don't want to have sex with me and just have me oil up your body for you and give you a massage while we're both naked. I want you to keep me in your bed like a stuffed animal that you cuddle with when you want, throw out when you want, and order to come back and cuddle you when you want. I want you to send me sexy text messages. I want to bath with you by candle light on weeknights. Gr---"

All I can say is Wow!

He included his phone number. Now what the hell do I do with this? It definitely piqued my interest. I wrote him back that this was by far the most interesting (and vivid- but I didn't say that part) message I've ever gotten. Which is completely true- forget the dudes who clearly just wanted to f#$% me, even the regular dudes on this site have never written their interest in me so eloquently. In the end, I just asked him if he honestly had written that to another woman before and what her response was. (I doubt he'll be truthful- but I'll be even more impressed if he is). I mean, this message is a bold move. But like I said I don't want to fall for the ole "okey-doke". I have to admit though, I'm intrigued. Know what I mean? I mean really, I could/should be scandalized by this message, right? Or at least grossed out- but I'm not. However, I don't want to contact him and have him think I'm some sort of ho-bag. Is that bad? Am I falling for the okey-doke anyway?

What do you think?

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Miss Bey, continued...

Okay-so I wrote some stuff yesterday and then today I came in and saw even more damning evidence that it’s all been faked, but then on Vibe Online there was the picture I was asking for –sort of.

It was a picture of Bey in a sheer cover up with a bikini underneath. I mean that’s pretty solid. I mean that can be faked too but that’s extremely elaborate and painstaking to do (I'm assuming- not to mention crazy). My only reservation about going back to my original thought process –which was maybe she’s just padding herself up for emphasis is she’s suddenly huge. I mean she’s still got like three more months to go and she’s as big as JLo and Mariah were with twins- but none of it is in her face or arms or anything. That’s just weird. My coworker is a tiny girl (like a size 00 – in the new crazy fashion sizing). She got really big in her last four or so months with both of her kids. But she blew up- like a helium balloon, all of her- her whole body. Not as bad as JLo et al. (where even their noses and stuff got bigger) but her boobs were ginormous, her arms were big, her hips, etc.

On the other hand, the people who carry small, whose faces don’t gain weight and whose fingers don’t get so fat they have to take off their rings, don’t get huge at all. Anywhere. Like Miss Jada- with both Jaden and Willow. They walk around looking like snakes that swallowed basketballs. They don’t get freekin’ enormous everywhere except anywhere it counts for fashion, i.e. the face, the arms, the legs (she was wearing hot pants a couple weeks ago and her legs looked exactly the same). Even as I write this, I seem to be re-convincing myself that she’s a faker. Until she takes off the sheer muumuu and lets us have a gander I’m not convinced. (Not that my opinion counts for anything at all).

I’m just saying…

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Miss Bey and the "baby"

So I’m going to go on ahead and officially join the ranks of the crazies. I was trying to withhold judgment for the longest but now I’m just going to go ahead and say it:

I think Beyoncé is lying about her pregnancy. I don’t know why and it really doesn’t make any sense to me but it just doesn’t look real. Now I will concede that if you look at one of my friend's pictures from when she was pregnant with her twins she really looked fake too. She looked like a little kid with a beach ball tucked under her shirt –so I know some people carry weird. But Beyoncé’s new pictures from the other day when she hosted a screening of her concert album look crazy fake to me. She looks as if she’s wearing padding and a push up bra. Either that or she’s wearing just about the most poorly cut dress I’ve ever seen in my life -that wasn’t on Project Runway. I don’t know maybe it’s House of Dereón? ('Cuz she is still being willfully ignorant about her mother's level of talent in design).

While bearing in mind that though I'm no maternity expert, I have in my life, seen dozens of pregnant women before and I have also actually seen this particular girl in the flesh (not five feet from my eyeballs), I cannot conceptualize how her pregnancy would make her ass look like it does in this dress. It’s not because of some Spanx-like garment ‘cuz that ass is lumpy (which is understandable generally). But the point of Spanx is generally to smooth that out not create lumps. And I hate to be graphic but her butt is just about the biggest thing about her and it's more "bubble"-shaped. So how do you explain that in this picture she’s got my butt- wide and flat? Pregnancy does lots of horrible things to you, I know. But I’m virtually certain changing the size and composition of your ass is not one of them.

Now I’m not speculating on why and for what purpose she’d be faking her pregnancy- ‘cuz as I said before it doesn’t make any sense. Protecting her figure, while understandable in theory seems laughably self-involved. She doesn't honestly seem that shallow. But whatever the reason, I’m starting to be in Wendy Williams' camp about whether or not she’s done it. I still teeter on the edge of believing she's actually pregnant though. And for that reason, my favorite new-ish theory that gives Miss Bey the benefit of the doubt is that maybe she is pregnant but she’s carrying so small that if she didn’t pad herself you wouldn’t be able to tell. So she pads herself to make the pregnancy into the media spectacle she and Jay-Z believe it should be?

I don’t know but the facts as they stand, just don’t ring true to me. I tried to dismiss the Australian interview thing- although that was d@mn compelling evidence but until she and Jay go to St. Tropez again and we get a legit baby-bump in a bikini or similarly skimpy bathing suit photo, I’m gonna have to call b*llsh!t on this.

Friday, November 18, 2011


Just got the new Kindle Fire. I'm a complete Kindle newbie.

So forty-eight hours ago I borrowed the first Hunger Games book from the Kindle Lending Library as a learning experience. Plus, I kept saying I'd find out what all the fuss was about with these books. Well, I loved it! I immediately went to the actual library where I work to borrow the next book in the trilogy since I'd have had to wait until Dec. 1st to take out another book on my Kindle. They only had the second book in audiobook format. That did not appeal to me but I took it anyway. It’s been a long time since I listened to an audiobook. Now I know why. I realize I don’t like them very much. That surprised me. I thought I’d be a big fan: Reading without the hard work of actually reading. Sounds perfect! Well turns out, not so much.

I found the whole thing very disorienting. Which was a surprise since I’ve listened to audiobooks before. I’m having trouble pinpointing exactly what I didn’t enjoy about it this time. Because I have enjoyed them (at least a little) in the past. I think it may have been that all my other audiobook experiences until now (with one exception) had always ever been read by the author themselves. Maybe it was because they were telling their own stories, it added something “more”? Even Maya Angelou, who I generally find a little trying to listen to talk for more than a few minutes, was compelling reading from her own books. But through no fault of the author’s or actress reading (which happened to be Carolyn McCormick- who incidentally played Dr. Olivet on Law & Order) I found the reading really lackluster. It was surprising because she has such a soothing voice on L&O. But the narrator of the book is supposed to be a sixteen year old girl. There is no way she sounds sixteen. And she was doing all the different characters (which she was good at) but it was distracting. And she over-enunciated her words which was taxing on my nerves after a while. Or it just could be that I’m a reader. The Kindle itself is a challenge for me aesthetically. I keep wanting to turn the page. It’s only been a couple of days but I admit I find it very contrary to the format I usually use to consume books and I guess an audiobook is even more so like that. So it’s all an adjustment for me.

Well, one way or the other, I don’t think I’ll be doing the audiobook-thing that often (maybe I’ll just keep that format for long distance drives and the like). But, I listened to the whole second book in a marathon (six hours last night and five today while working) and now I can’t wait to get my hands on the third. But I mean my actual hands. I’m fighting the impulse to buy the third book when I go to Target tonight. I’m trying to hold out until I can borrow it from the lending library on the Kindle in two weeks. But I wanna know now! I’ve now gotten through both of the first two books in a little less than 48 hours. So I guess I’m definitely hooked. Who knew I was gonna be like one of those freekin’ Twihards and whatever the hell they call the Harry Potter fans- Muggles or whatever. But I’m addicted to Hunger games- it hurts my heart that unlike those other two franchises this will be the last book. (Although I know if there were eight books like Harry Potter I’d lose steam after about the fourth one. That’s about the point usually where my interest wanes). Whatever. I’m rambling now.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Single Life

Cue the Cameo music...

Right now, I guess I am thinking that I need to be out of my house more. Meet more people. Men in particular. (Although honestly, I'm not up for the meat market most of "mixer" events are) but as they say I'm not gonna meet anyone in my house and no one is gonna knock on my front door and be like "Hey there sexy, I'm the man of your dreams" unless he's the UPS man or the TimeWarner guy. Which by definition would make him NOT the man of my dreams.

Last night, my Dad- MY DAD! said "you guys (meaning me and my brother) are almost forty and you haven't found mates yet". (First of all: I am NOT almost forty and my brother just broke up with his girlfriend, she moved out- just as he was about to propose.) to be fair I know my dad wasn't saying it as a diss, he was lamenting. But the point is he's worried about us. He worries that brothers and I are going to slip backward in terms of upward mobility. In part because we're out here alone instead of having mates that we can "build" with. He credits his wife as a crucial part of how he was able to move into the upper middle class because they were able to build wealth together. Now he's witnessing none of us having counterparts to build with.

It was a depressing but true convo. My brothers' relationships have fallen apart and I've never really had anyone at all and so he's worried. My eldest brother's already in his forties and by my Dad's (and incidentally my therapist's) estimation, we're gonna be forty tomorrow. We need to start really thinking of the future. Which is true. And though I don't think my potential life partner is at any mixer/speed dating things, I guess I need to get into practice being social. I have great-grandma tendencies- I don't want to leave my house, I don't want to have to talk to people I don't know. I don't want to dance around and drink and crap. My friend Claire said I'm feral- which is a step away from being unfit for normal human interaction. So I got to get over it. Ugh.

Anyway, you can officially add my father to the pile of people who say we're (meaning me and all my friends) are too picky. He said too many black men have been led off the "right path" and so we need to be willing to pick a man up and dust him off if we want a mate. I almost told him that's why I'm not looking for a black man any more. LOL. But I kept that to myself. ('Cuz I'm still not sure that it's true- it's still under debate- take that Ralph Richard Banks).

Monday, October 17, 2011

How Refreshing: A Case of Total Ignorance of Celebrity

Lovers' Carvings by Bibio

I discovered this song (I'm trying to remember that "discover" is a loaded word whenever you refer to something people already know or -cough, cough- Columbus?) at the end of the movie The Switch.

I didn't really love the movie but I really dig the song. I'm not a big fan of Jennifer Aniston's in general but I like Jason Bateman so I watched it. Really, the movie is a dramedy anyway. Which is not the way it was marketed, it was marketed as a comedy but it's only moderately funny. In actuality, it's kind of poignant in the best parts.

What is funny though, actually is almost totally unrelated to the film: I think I might be three degrees of separation from Jason Bateman. No, really it's true! I swear, one of my best girl friends is dating a guy in the film industry that is supposedly friends with him. Now I say "supposedly" not because I don't believe he is or that he's not telling the truth or something, but because my friend is like the ideal rich person/celebrity girlfriend. In that, she has absolutely no interest in her BFs business dealings or net worth or anything like that. She's perfect because she is totally without agenda. I say that because if it were me I'd be very interested, in meeting people and knowing things. Not in a gold-digging way, just in that all that stuff is very interesting to me. Hollywood and celebrity culture interest me...a lot. Luckily for the dude she's with, my friend on the other hand, couldn't care less.

Case in point, when the BF was visiting her (it's a long distance relationship) and he told her he was going to have dinner with his friend (Jason), she's like "okay, well I'm going to use the opportunity to rest after a long and particularly trying day of work, you have fun." Now, me? I would have insisted on having dinner with them, if for no other reason than to meet Jason (for whom I've been a fan since Little House on the Prairie), her not so much. She was totally disinterested in any aspect of her BF's Hollywood life overflowing/intersecting with her own. God Bless her!

So all that to say, I used the word "supposedly" not because I'm uncertain of her guy and his celeb connections, but because I don't know with any degree of real certainty that the celebrity she was talking about was in fact Jason Bateman particularly. LOL! It took quite a lot of coaxing on my part and describing actors and movies and such to narrow it down to Jason in the first place. She's the best but movie stars are not her forte. I love the idea of it though...just three degrees away!

Anyhoo, with that in mind, enjoy.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Surviving a Hurricane in Style (from UrbanDaddy.com)

"Dear Irene,

Word on the street is you think you’re some kind of big bad storm. Well, we’re not impressed. We survived a ferocious earthquake on Tuesday. If you think we’re going to run, you’re sorely mistaken.

Should you want to pick a fight when you’re in town this weekend, we’ll be hunkered down at one of these subterranean basement hurricane hideouts. Look us up.

But be warned, we’re prepared to go out like Bodhi. Or at least we will be after some last-minute purchases...

Hugs and kisses,

Daddy... I'm with you.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Summer Season Finale

I finagled a way to see the season finale of Single Ladies on my lunch break today.

Good God is all I can say.

-Keisha's finale was like "eh" 'cuz I can't stand her boyfriend Malcolm so I could give a flying "f" what happens to him. Prison? Freedom? Life on the lamb? He and Keisha as Bonnie and Clyde? Who cares? I mean I do like Keisha though, she just needs a better man- a more worthy love interest. (I'm feeling Rick Fox as that man despite the fact that he weirdly revealed himself to be 5-0).

-April's thing with Darryl was stupid- from the beginning, beyond belief but it was typical of their whole storyline. I understand why she cheated on her husband- a bigger b*tch has not been seen (and I'm including female St. Bernards in my estimation). And the development of her getting with that annoying, unstable musician guy? If she’s too dumb to remember that he’s a raging drug addict then let her have him. She's going from stupid to stupider, like a ditz. I say Go with God, Blondie!

-But Val’s thing. That’s what’s gonna make me tune in next season. She’s so clueless! (Haha, Clueless- you like what I did with that one? No? Too easy? Jeez, you're a tough crowd.) What was she even thinking about going to dinner with Quinn let alone sleeping with him (I know she was sh!t-faced but whatever). And then she was gonna say yes to Jerry, when:

#1. She’s still sex-funky from being with Quinn, and
#2. He’s right there in the other room with a wedding proposal and ring of his own.


First of all, I would never have opened that door. Never. I don’t care if he heard me standing on the other side of the door singing the Star-Spangled Banner at the top of my lungs while he banged on the door be let in. I’d have never done it. Ever. Secondly, what was she thinking? Jerry said he knew the arrangement wasn’t gonna make her happy. He didn’t say he didn’t love her- in fact he said he loved her more. Why? Why? WHY? Would she go out the same d@mn night with someone else? These type of shows are bad for my blood pressure. I actually had to pause it when Quinn came out (deliberately I suspect) to see who was at the door. And Colin Salmon’s face- just about broke my heart (that might also be because he’s the only good actor on the show.) Can I say I love his old southern man accent- you’d never guess he was an Englishman, like Idris Elba on The Wire- they’re just so good!

Anyway, I just had to get all of that off my chest.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Debt-Ceiling...Slow Jam Style

I have never really cared for Jimmy Fallon- but taking over for Conan (aww..CoCo...sigh) was the smartest move he's ever made. I see now why they say Lorne Michaels is a mad genius. It was, after all, his crazy idea that probably one of the worst members of his cohort on SNL (Fallon) would make a wonderful replacement for Conan when he stepped up to the "Big Show".

And you know what? I think he was right. This is just, as New York Magazine likes to say on their "Approval Matrix", Lowbrow/Brilliant!

Thursday, July 28, 2011

My Travel IQ

Traveler IQ

The Traveler IQ challenge ranks geographic knowledge of cities such as: Birmingham, Baton Rouge or Gatlinburg by comparing results against 7,267,874 other travelers.

Out of how much, who knows...

Friday, July 8, 2011

New Favorite

A new favorite blog I wanted to share:


This guy makes my panties moist. Fo' Realz!

Unfortunately, he's married. I'm like 0-20 at this point people. Have I finally crossed over to the age when all the coolest, smartest, most interesting people are freakin' married?!? Is this what has happened?

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

TV Funhouse

So I watched Hawthorne last night. Ugh! It was officially the beginning of the end for me. I was prepared to hold out like I did for Heroes for the sake of supporting Jada and Michael Vartan but if this is what they’re planning for the rest of the season…Good God! Someone save us from losing our brain cells on this show! I can only stand for so much retardation. And the Stackhouses on True Blood take up most of the space I have room for. Plus there’s the Heroes vs. True Blood difference of the writers writing the sh!t like it makes sense vs. the writers writing it knowing it’s retarded but acknowledging that the characters are mildly retarded. Bon Temps is inhabited by nitwits so the stupidity is to be expected. There is no excuse on Hawthorne. They’re supposed to be doctors and nurses and sh!t. There is just no justification. If you taped Hawthorne this week -erase it. 'Cuz I’m gonna tell you exactly what happened and save you the time and brain cell loss.

Let me start by saying, one of the guys that executive produces this show produced ER too so I can’t account logically for how far off the reservation this show is going. I read some of the message boards on Television Without Pity, which is admittedly more snarky and cold blooded than other message boards but they aren’t telling lies up in there. They say that the show is a poorly written vanity project for Jada Pinkett Smith. I agree with that statement, always have really but I thought that some place in their minds Jada and Will had aspirations for it to be better. I’m pretty sure now that that’s just not true. I don’t think that they give two sh!ts. They seem like they might even be changing the genre of the show- I kid you not. Follow along, here it goes:

So it is two- that’s right TWO days after a brutal attack left her hospitalized and her baby stillborn and Jada aka Christina is already up and at ‘em! Admittedly, she can barely walk and everybody is wondering why the hell she’s on her feet, but still she’s up and around and trying to tend to her duties as CNO. Oh, that’s right, William or whatever his name is on this show still hasn’t mentioned to her, Tom or basically anyone in the hospital besides Bobbie that he intends to not give her her job back. Which leads to her and her BFF Bobbie- who she thinks is the “Acting” CNO -but is in actuality the real CNO- into having a tug of war for authority in the case of this abandoned little girl who was almost in a diabetic coma when they found her. Justifiably so, Bobbie accuses Christina of seeing in the little girl possibly the baby she and Tom lost (although the little girl is like six). Bobbie wants to call social services since the girl won’t speak to give her name and no one had come forward to claim her. Christina wants her to fly under the radar, unknown to social services until she works her “Hawthorne Magic” (I’m thinking of trademarking that, incidentally) and everything magically resolves themselves. So that turns into a big kerfluffle during which they’re both giving commands and countermands to little nurse Kelly as she struggles to figure out who she should be listening to. (Ultimately, she chooses Christina of course because no one has told her why she would do otherwise).

Anyway, the little girl rallies and is later sitting up and drawing with her paper and crayons. She draws a picture of her family and signs it Angel Pie. Christina is alerted and comes to see her, telling her that used to be her nickname too. Suddenly the up until then mute little girl is like “I know. It's not my nickname. I have a message from my little friend who I met when I was going into the light. She told me not to go into the light but to come back (to earth presumably) and tell the little girl’s mommy and daddy not to be sad because she’s with the angels.” I KID YOU F@#$%^ING NOT! You think I'm joking that this just suddenly veered into Touched By an Angel/Highway to Heaven territory. I am not.

So Christina goes to Bobbie with this message of hope and salvation and Bobbie is now, understandably, concerned for Christina’s mental health. (At least the writers acknowledged that that would be the most likely result. Score one for us.) Bobbie, however, stupidly takes this to William who takes it to Tom who then together with half the freekin’ nursing staff (it looks like) decides to stage an intervention. For what exactly? Why?

So that goes down as the following Christina basically walks in, guesses really quickly what is going on, has a very tearful Emmy-baiting monologue (for Jada) about the betrayal of friends and family and then walks out. The psych person doesn’t ever say anything and neither does anyone else. Now I’ve never watched a real or the show Intervention in my life but I know they don’t occur in a circumstance where no one says anything and then allows the intervention-ee to just bounce. But okay.

Meanwhile, Christina’s daughter Camille has decided to set her sights on Derek Luke’s character. He smacks her down (figuratively, twice –‘cuz he’s older and married) but she clearly isn’t getting it or havin' it. And the writers are obviously positioning him for her as love interest – his marriage is falling apart and his wife and kids are in another city. (So, it begs the question: why laden his character with all this baggage if you’re just gonna put him with the daughter anyway?) However the best part of all that is that last week as we discovered he’s a religious man. Remember he prayed with her for Christina’s recovery? Well in this episode, she announces that she doesn’t know how to pray and she feels funny asking. Then after he shut her down for the second time in her tight pink t-shirt that he advised her to put a sweater over, he gets a distressing call from his wife which for a normal person would be a clue to go away and mind her own business right? Wrong! Instead she follows him and finds him crying and praying in a lounge by himself. So she pushes up on him again! This time asking him to teach her how to pray. Now I don’t know if this would be as eyeball rolling a scene for you as it was for me. But that was just the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen and it came off like a bad scene in the worst of the worst of the Tyler Perry joints. I can only think that this is some really cynical scheming from Jada’s writer's room. Like, now they have the "Latino" viewers with Marc Anthony, now they’re targeting the folks that watch House of Payne and Meet the Browns. That “teach me how to pray"- doe eyes: blink, blink- schtick was so irritating. Compounded by her reporting to her mother later that she had learned and her mom being so compelled by the story that she asked to be taught too. Arrgh!!!! It was aweful. And definitely not from a medical drama. That deserved to be on PAX back in the day after Father Dowling Mysteries or something. I grew up Christian so maybe that’s why it seemed just so dumb. I was taught that prayer was just a conversation with God. Not something that needed teaching. Anyway, it was just strange.

Other bonuses I skipped over:

• Marc Anthony aka Nick barely acknowledges Tom when he walks into any room. Like I just think that’s crazy disrespectful. And whereas initially I thought Tom’s beef was sort of funny and insecure- if I was Tom, this would be the point at which we would have to have words.

• Like I said Christina accuses Bobbie of stealing her job and when Bobbie tries to explain exactly what I said before about how she only accepted to keep someone who couldn’t/wouldn’t be removed from getting it, Christina goads her into firing her. Then Christina runs out all martyred.

• Bobbie is shamed by both her boyfriend and nurse Kelly for taking Christina’s job.

• Christina, on her way home, walks down a lonely corridor with no windows or doors (in a hospital?!?) and the florescent lighting does that flickering thing it does in horror movies that sends her running back into Nick (who was conveniently waiting in her office despite the fact that she’d presumably already gone home for the night)’s arms.

• Oh and by far the best one- so Tom goes and buys a gun illegally then proceeds to get into a bar fight. Of course he’s arrested and naturally Nick is the one who has to pick him up- because he was with Christina when she got the call. So Nick drops him at his car and returns his valuables to him…INCLUDING the gun! Nick tells him carrying a concealed weapon is illegal but then proceeds to return it to him without asking how he obtained it and how he managed to presumably circumvent a seven-day waiting period (since Christina was only attacked two days prior and why would he have wanted a gun before then?) Especially since Nick seems particularly devoted to guarding her body, I don’t know why he would allow Tom, a doctor with seemingly no experience with a deadly weapon to be walking the streets with a loaded gun. Does that seem like cop behavior- especially from a cop that wants your woman? I would have thought particularly then he’d have held Tom's feet to the fire for having that gun in his possession. But I’d be wrong. I'm sorry I think that’s a scene in the tv show I’m writing in my mind.

• And of course Christina and Tom are at odds again…so yet another season of them dancing around each other. What fun!

Oh, it was all really priceless. It was after eleven at night but there I was shouting at the tv like old times. It was like Heroes all over again. Save yourself!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Bad Habits

I'm just in this kind of mood today. To indulge bad habits...

Baby, to tell the truth/ When I’m sober I jonez for you
When its over I’m overdue (huh)/ Girl, its no one as bad as (no one as bad as you)

You got me, you got me/You got me
Slippin around with it/ Around with it, awhile
You got me sick with this love, baby/I’m so, I’m so in love
I can’t come down

This is the highest cost, oh/Take you and make you off
Live you and leave you lost (baby)
Will you forgive me? (will you forgive me?)

Assed out all over town (ah)/Drags you and keeps you down (and I know)
Two times and I take a round
Will you forgive me?

PS. How hot does Kerry Washington look? She's sizzling, smokin' hot! Maxwell is no slouch either. This video should seriously be rated X.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

So corny...but true.

This perfectly describes the exquisite torture of new love. Old but forever young. Sang it 'Tasia!!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Soldier of Love, or not.

My V-day was probably the worst one in a few years. But that’s not saying much. Usually, I just watch Valentine’s go down with a very mild wistfulness and some good humor. That worked for most of yesterday, but then in the evening I got a little sad when I saw all the flower and Valentine vendors. Usually I brush it off but yesterday I (very) briefly got caught up. I generally try to be very pragmatic about it all. Last night (I didn’t cry or anything pathetic like that) but I felt like I was missing out. I realized I’ve never had a valentine (really never) and it made me sad. I got over it but it sucked in the meantime.

Well, I know you’re more than over me talking about this and so I have to ask for some indulgence from you. Really I don’t know what or why I’m telling you this because it’s not a big deal, but I feel compelled. Every time I think about the fact that Claire and her husband have been married eight years, it just blows my mind. I mean they weren’t high school sweethearts or anything. Claire had a full and active (adult) dating life before she even met him. How can that be the case? How have they have been together so long already?!?!? WE’RE OLD! Yesterday, I was telling The Guy about my peppermint patty hot chocolate and how I complained about the liquor content of it and how my dear, dear friends all laughed at me. He said “Oh that’s just like my wife. When we were in college, we’d be at parties and after she had one drink I’d find her curled up somewhere sleeping.” So he's been with his wife for ten years at least (based on his age) but probably more like twelve. I just don't understand! When did we get so old? And how did I let my whole single-gal situation get so bad? Whatever.

I'm coming to the conclusion that all the good guys worth having have already been scooped up by girls with the more savvy priorities in college. Namely, to "spend at least as much time worrying about who you're gonna marry as what your GPA is". Since I didn't do much of either I'm really up Sh*t's Creek. I watched Practical Magic the other day for the first time in years and Sandra Bullock's character said she was dreaming of a love even time would stand still for. I still almost choke on the schmaltzy-ness of that. Corny isn't even the word... but I kinda get it now. Ten years after I saw that movie first, I sit alone on Valentine's Day wondering where the time went.

Sade, take me out of here...

Monday, February 14, 2011

Imponderables: Just in time for Valentine's!

QUESTION: When a man in a song refers to a "Soul Sister" isn't that by definition a black woman? Or is that only a "Soul Sistah"? If he is white and he talks about "brown skin", is he automatically talking about a tanned white woman? Or is he actually talking about a black woman?

Apropos of nothing, I was listening to Soul Sister by Train on Pandora and I went to the lyrics page (because that song both bugs me and I like it). I was irritating my friend while in FL last September with it. They had been killing it on the radio and I started to sing along all the while railing against the fact that they were calling who I presumed was a white girl "Soul Sister". I mean I like the song but that just drives me to distraction. I can’t make heads or tails of it. So I decided to look at their Pandora message board and someone said (between the complaints of it being overplayed on the radio –which of course I agree with), "I think they like the chocolate milk". (I’ve never heard us referred to as chocolate milk but okay...go with it). So in that moment, I decided- between the name and the reference in the middle to “the way you can cut a rug… so gangsta, I’m so thug”, that they were actually writing that song to a black girl (possibly unrequited) and their label made them put the blonde girl in the video. I have made the executive decision that that’s my interpretation. ‘Cuz it was driving me freekin’ insane.

Similarly, many moons ago I ignored an obvious reference to "brown skin" in Don Henley's Boys of Summer because despite that lyric, the video very clearly showed a blonde white girl frolicking in the surf. Mystery solved, right? But I have discovered this again recently in the song Still by Matt Nathanson (of whom I am a fan). He was singing that he could still see her "brown skin shine" and this time it was in a hotel room, not on a beach. Now, I'm sorry but very few tanned white women have brown skin, let alone "shining" brown skin in fluorescent lighting! What is this about, Nobody? C'mon Matt, is this an ode to interracial love gone wrong or are you confused about the melanin content of your average anglo-saxon female?

Ahh...Valentine's Day. A day better spent being overly analytical, bordering on curmudgeonly than a sad sack.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

TV Funhouse II

Now's as good a time as any to admit I have a very co-dependent relationship with my DVR. I don't know what I did before he came into my life and I have no idea what I would do if he wasn't around anymore. In order to honor that relationship, I've anthropomorphized it- him- and his name is Josh. So now you know...

So, Josh didn’t record Parenthood or something. I mean last Tuesday I thought I remembered him listing it at 10 as recording but then when I started going through my queue, it wasn’t there! So I don’t know if I accidentally deleted it (although I think I’d remember that) or discovered a timing conflict and didn’t record it. It's happened before. They’ve been shuffling the schedule and I think it’s creating conflicts all over. Just Thursday night I had the ill-crazy conflict, because 30Rock, Mentalist and PP come on at the same time now. I had to get rid of 30Rock (I’ll watch it on Hulu). But I can see this is gonna become a problem. I can’t add any new things (like Being Human) because I don’t know when the conflicts are gonna crop up with all this movement.

Anyhoo, Josh recorded The Good Wife just fine- which was good as usual. Not as good as some recent past episodes, but a tasty morsel. I’m shocked Peter actually threw in the towel. Despite what his PAC was doing I didn’t think he and Eli would stop them. Speaking of Eli, I love when he goes to deal with that girl Becca. She’s just like evil personified. I don’t understand why the son didn’t just admit that Becca wasn’t his girlfriend, the other girl was. I’m glad Eli kept an eye on her though- does she just like trouble or is she actually in Glenn Child’s pocket? Anyway, the handwringing about the drug dealer irritated me. They’re defense attorneys making big money, not little public defenders. They don’t get into where the money comes from- that’s a poor person’s game (getting on your little moral high-horse and riding into the sunset- broke). Again, Cary is my man- he can just be awful but it’s awful-awesome! He played himself a little – I guess to impress his co-counsel. Complaining about their lack of resources- only to find himself banned from seeing Kalinda (I think that proclamation in the end is gonna end up making him lose his job). Anyway, Michael J. Fox is back this week, I’m excited. Maybe he can take Alicia to school again.

Private Practice was kinda disappointing to me. I thought that Sam was gonna find Addison was backsliding, since Cristian was being type-obvious. I thought the most telling moment was when Addison said “Sam’s your friend?!” and he said “So?” That was crazy to me. I mean she should have shut him down like a bank on Sunday but still that he didn’t even care (I actually hadn’t realized they were friends). The other thing was did you check out Naomi’s expressions? She looked like Shonda was about to do that old b.s. again about her still carrying a torch for Sam. I will say Audra McDonald was giving all sorts of signals to my eyes. When Addison said Archer wasn’t coming (I love the “I wasn’t at the first wedding so I won’t be at the second wedding” quip) Naomi looked disappointed or something. I was wondering Grant Show is on Big Love this season, so I doubt he’s doing any PP (although I don’t see why not), so what was the face all about? Then when she was arguing with Addison she looked really injured and not in that “Addison, don’t be a butthead” way. In the "Don't break my man's heart" way. Then when she was talking to Sam she had that wistful look-

I was saying to myself "get her character a man stat!" I’d say Sheldon because they have the best temperaments for a couple (and they’re already basically the momma and daddy of the office), but honestly I want someone more dashing for Audra. Though I love Sheldon- Brian Benben forever! (a fan since Dream On)- and I still wouldn’t mind them bringing Fife back. Anybody but Sam. Okay Shonda? Been there, done that, let's skip the return outing.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Commercial XLV

This is the Superbowl XLV Volkswagen commercial. I posted it on my facebook page because it’s the most adorable thing ever! Seriously I love it. And I keep wondering if it was a real kid (looks like it) or was it a short adult ‘cuz the non-verbal acting is so great! Anyway, enjoy it. Having now seen all of them, this really is the best one.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


And, drum roll please… he’s married! Of course he f@#$ing is! How could I have possibly believed, even for a second otherwise?! Good question. Because no sensible girl worth her salt (with two pieces of a brain in her head) would have let his ass get away. But I guessed that before didn’t I?

I know that you’re thinking I’m making a big deal out of nothing. And I admit that this is a tempest in a teapot. People are starving, children are dying, there's genocide and Global Warming- I don’t have the right to be upset over nothing but I’m soooooo disappointed. I mean I may need to come up with a new word because "disappointment" doesn't adequately describe the feeling.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Winter-y weekend

My weekend was pretty uneventful. I went to Trader Joe’s on 72nd to check it out. People had been telling me it was there but for some reason I just never saw it. As my mother says if it was a bug it would have bitten me. Big as all get out right there on the corner of 72nd and Broadway on the downtown side- I don't know what was wrong with me. It was interesting though. The whole thing is underground like the Apple store on 59th Street- I guess this is an architechural trend (makes sense since all the real estate above ground is taken). It’s larger than the one in Union Square but it’s not as big (to me) as any of the Whole Foods in the city.

And it needs to be. People were on top of each other in there! I don’t understand why they didn’t get more square footage. But maybe if you go in on a day that isn’t Saturday or Sunday you have a better experience. My companion got a couple things- only came up to $23.00 – so the prices are good. That’s nice. I think I want to go back on Wednesday when I get paid to get one or two things. Otherwise, Saturday was uneventful. We left there to go to SOHO Nails – (shout out to my favorite waxing spot!) so both of us are now (Man) presentable. That is also nice. It makes me feel girlie and not like a beast. Tee-hee. We ate Indian down at Baluchi’s and ended up in Union Square at Crumbs. Cupcakes are exactly what I don't need but I love them anyway. The Union Square area was pretty desolate which was almost eerie. Every restaurant we passed was completely full but the street was empty- weird. There was a line out the door at Bowlmor Lanes too. So I guess it wasn’t that people weren’t out because of the cold they were all just indoors.

Friday, January 28, 2011

TV Funhouse I

So I watched the my DVR'd episode of Criminal Minds Monday night. It was all about Vodoo/Santaria. I was just too depressed yesterday to talk about it. You know what’s funny, it was the first time that I thought Reid (Matthew Gray Gubler) was attractive. I think it was a combination of him being secretive and irritable that I found a turn-on (the fact that he cut his hair this season helped too). I’m so weird. He's only attractive at his most obnoxious. I find most episodes of CM pretty out there. Sometimes I watch it and I’m like, “I can’t believe they can show this on Broadcast TV!” With the heads and the brains and the tongues, I was like wow- this is like watching the Serpent and the Rainbow on CBS sat 4 in the afternoon.

I also watched last week's Parenthood and the Good Wife on Sunday. I have to say again how much I’m digging Cary (Matt Czuchry) now. It’s like he had a charisma injection or an a$$hole-ectomy. Getting out of the firm is the best thing the writers could have done for his character. He was so smarmy and such a kiss-a$$ before and now he just seems ruthless. Which is completely sexy to me. (Again...crazy) I didn’t even mind when he said he wouldn’t come back if they didn't double Alicia’s salary for him and making him her superior (which Will would never go for in a million years, btw). Did you notice that he’d only consider joining the Diane’s firm if Kalinda was coming too? I think when they get back into it (Cary and Kalinda) The Good Wife will officially be my favorite show! Do you think that Michael Ealy hasn’t figured out that Will and Diane are back in league with each other? I thought to myself "how dumb are ya’ll giving each other secret nods right in front of Derek in a meeting?" Even if he didn’t see it, one of his associates might have.

On Parenthood, I think Kristina (Monica Potter) is an idiot. I mean, Haddie (Sarah Ramos) is a teenager. She’s lucky she’s even confiding in her grandmother. She could be keeping every adult she knows completely out of the loop- for Kristina to be jealous of Camille seemed to me like looking a gift horse in the mouth. If something serious was happening Camille would tell Adam and Kristina, the same can’t necessarily be said for Amber (Mae Whitman). Kristina’s a dummy.

But Haddie has clearly lost her GD mind! I don’t care how big you are and how right you think you are. I’d have put her teeth in the back of the throat for talking to me like that. The only good thing they did (like Bree did on Desperate Housewives - I almost called it Whorewives...oops) was when they took Haddie’s door off the hinges. The way I grew up- you like slamming doors? Then you don’t get a door to slam. Adam and Kristina are playing around with her. Looks like in this week's episode they’re begging her to come back home. Yeah, right!? I’d be like stay you’re a$$ right there. (But behind the scenes me and Camille and Zeke would have words about them letting her stay. You don’t get in the middle of sh!t going down between me and my kids- you don’t get to be her port in the storm). As you can see I grew up fairly rough and tumble- all the coddling going on on TV didn't exist for me. I guess my life was a smidge more Criminal Minds and less Parenthood.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

One small step for a woman, one giant leap...

So you’d have been so proud of me!

As soon as I saw The Guy today (without being eager), I said what’s up to him. He seemed more than willing to talk. He was already looking at me when I opened my mouth to speak. We shook hands, he’s got big hands (which I love- didn’t know that about me, did you? But I don't believe the hype. You have no idea what's in a man's shorts until you look) and a nice firm but gentle handshake. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring!! Despite the questionable complexion, he’s a lot cuter than I initially thought he was. I realize now that I’d only been glancing at him out of the corner of my eye and looking at him in profile. Head on, he’s actually handsome.He’s definitely about 6’1. He has dark brown hair and light brown eyes. I’m still thinking part Asian, but he might even be Native American* (possibly my first NA sighting-that I know of- in NY!).

*A short note about my seeming preoccupation with ethnicity: you're right I am. But not in an ugly racist kind of way. I just like meeting and knowing people of different groups. I think it makes the world more interesting and I think it's one of the things that makes living in the United States the best place in the world. One of the best memories of an old job of mine is the way that after work sometimes we would go out - rolling like ten-deep - in a group that was comprised of African-Americans, Asians (Chinese, Korean, Filipino), Latinos and whites. Most people didn't know what to make of us and what's better is some didn't even notice.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

New guy for coffee

So I think I might have an admirer. Thank heaven he’s more attractive than the last one was (which I feel bad even writing because the last one was such a nice guy, and a doctor to boot).

So why do I think he’s an admirer? I’m glad you asked. Well, because I could totally be wrong. He may in fact just think I’m a weird, loud girl he keeps running into. What I’m basing my assessment on is the fact that he’s always looking in my mouth. By that I mean every time he's around and I say anything (in his general direction or not), he’s right in the middle of it. Now to be fair to him, it’s not exactly private conversations I'm having, but most people just ignore me (I admit I'm loud- I think it's my hearing- but I keep it below a roar). But this dude, is like staring in my face when ever I speak. Last week, which was when I really noticed (I mean I’d sort of noticed before then but thought it was my imagination), I said something kinda jokey and don’t you know, dude is behind me cracking up. I honestly don’t care, so I didn’t say anything about it but I was thinking, “he’s listening to my conversation… weird.” Today, like I said broham was looking right in my mouth. Every time I spoke he was all over it, which is how the last one was- which is also why I feel free to speculate that the situation might be the same- namely Crush City.

I should stop calling him “dude”, he’s a man. Those kind of pejoratives are a bit of a bad habit of mine. Anyhoo, I think he might work where I do, because I keep seeing him (I'm delibrately being vague about the wheres and whys- in this internet age you never know what will come back to bite ya). But then he might just be “new” to me. ("A million Starbucks in this world and you have to walk into mine"). He's about, um, 6’0 I’d think, maybe 6’1. I'm thinking white and Asian but really he’s kind of racially non-descript. I mean definitely white but there’s something else happening in there too. He’s cute enough. Today, because of the fact that we were all running late and no one really knew what was holding up the Caffeine Express, all us addicts started grumbling to each other. And he kind of hung on the periphery of our "coffee klatch" smiling and nodding and agreeing with the people talking. You know the way quiet folks do. And of course, staring in my mouth as per usual. Every time I spoke I had his undivided attention. I could tell once or twice he almost spoke, but he hesitated and like happens in a group, someone else filled the void. He seems nice. He has that kind of nice/nerdy thing happening.

I don’t know what it is about him but he has ideal husband material written all over him- at least by the look of him (could be a real d*ck in reality or better yet, a psycho killer). In fact, I'd previously made a mental note to myself to look at his hand for a wedding ring, but forgot. I'm sure someone must have scooped him up already, (unless as previously noted, he’s a weirdo). I can’t imagine that his kinda questionable skin is frightening the girls away (By skin, I'm meaning blemishes people, before someone gets pre-emptively, politically-correct-ishly offended). He so clearly would be cute in that old school, John Cusack-y/eighties way (he’s got kinda floppy hair) if his skin was clear. So I’m debating introducing myself tomorrow. I introduced myself to someone once (Claire made me do that) way back when, and I’m glad I did. He ended up being cool peoples.

I know it sounds completely off to say I don't introduce myself to people I don't know. It would make less sense if you actually knew me 'cuz I seem much closer to an extrovert than to an introvert. But it's true. It’s just you know, I’m not that person. I’m not forward. Walking up to random people and just saying "put 'er there, partner" seems strange to me. So I wait for introductions or we pass in the night unknown to one another. I guess ultimately the truth is I'm painfully shy. It’s up in the air, whether or not I'll work up the nerve. Maybe I’ll check the hand for a ring first and then decide from there. Keep you posted of course.

Monday, January 24, 2011


Met a guy today in amongst some other people I kind of know. Cute. Tall. ish. Biracial, I think.

Scratch that.

Saw a guy today. Talking amongst people I kind of know. Interesting-looking, not short. Didn't say anything because I never have the nerve to make the first move. Should see him tomorrow. We'll see what happens.

Friday, January 21, 2011

La Petite Garçon - deuxième partie

Wasn’t that just the cutest thing ever? I think French is pretty, although I’ve had no desire to ever speak it myself. But when I hear people speak it, especially small children-oh! It’s like Elmira, I just want to hug them and squeeze them and love them and hold them…

Now check this out...

Quelle adorable, non?!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

La Petite Fille

Well, I don't speak a word of french but I had to share this. This is the cutest thing ever! And I love how she says hippopotamus and crocodile...so adorable! Oh, and the story's crazy too. A class struggle in the Hundred Acre Wood...

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The Social Network

So I’ve been trying all week to try and frame this post. I still am uncertain about what exactly I want to say and how I want to say it. But I have to put it out there (in part because I need to keep to my Non-Resolution to write more and also just because I want to talk about it): The Social Network. I saw that last week and watched it three times back-to-back.

I don’t know why but it completely captured my imagination. I’m guessing it was because these guys were almost my contemporaries (I’m a couple years older) and their apparent intellect is staggering. The ways in which their minds worked in the movie was just awesome. Some of that, I concede, I must contribute to the masterful work of Aaron Sorkin as screenwriter. But not to belittle his work, but he craftily and ingeniously framed the truth of what actually happened. He didn’t make it up. And I think what I was so amazed by was how fundamentally a couple of kids changed not only their world, but nuts and bolts, the world of everyone around. I mean even if you don’t use Facebook -you know what it is. Even if you don’t think your life is affected by its existence- it is. User or not, the world is different because of this little computer program made by a lost, angry, brilliant twenty-one year old kid.

Quick example, my BFF Claire* is still in touch with a Moroccan friend she made nine years ago, while on a week-long trip. I talk to family members I didn’t previously even know, on Facebook. My mother is FB friends with her high school BFF who she hadn’t seen or spoken to in over thirty years before they found each other last year. Some of this can just be attributed to the magic of the internet itself. But a great deal of the credit has to go to the brilliant idea that is facebook. I mean, I know it wasn’t a pioneer- there were the affinity sites- BlackPlanet, Asian Avenue, Mi Gente, then Friendster and MySpace. But something about Facebook clicked. I don’t know what it was for other people. Personally, I didn’t like the social self segregation of BP, Friendster just seemed like a silly idea to me and MySpace just skewed too young.

It’s just amazing, I think, to remember what I was doing at the same time these guys, or I guess particularly Mark Zuckerberg were quietly changing the world. I mean at a time when I didn’t even think myself capable of getting out of a dead end job, this kid was coming up with an idea that would make him a billionaire (that's billion with a “B”). Forty-one point six percent (41.6%) of Americans have a Facebook account. That’s a 124.8 million people, folks! In this country alone! They launched Facebook to the Harvard community in February of 2004 and in seven years have managed to incorporate (and if you watch some of your “friends” on that site you know) indoctrinate nearly half the people in the United States of America and half a billion worldwide. In ’04, I was 26. That year I lost my job, joined Match.com (a membership that has yet to bear fruit), skipped what ended up being an epic trip to Vegas with girlfriends and ended the year folding t-shirts for minimum wage at Club Monaco. It boggles the mind.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

City Life 101

So I decided to be industrious last night. Only NYC residents will even get the references (but since I'm the only person reading this, I don't think it matters anyway). I decided to try shopping up in the Marble Hill area of Manhattan/the Bronx. (Very interesting history, the link is worth checking out). Now, NYers know that the Marble Hill Target used to be the only one in a ten-mile radius of Manhattan (before the 116th and Manhattan Ave. store popped up). Up until this summer, if you wanted your Tar-get (think French) fix, you had to head Uptown to the Bronx or South onto Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Since then two Targets have sprung up in my general vicinity and although the new one is much closer to me, my mind still defaults to 225th Street. Anyway, I decided to try and kill two birds with one stone and do some supermarket shopping at Stop N Shop at the same time. I'm addicted to their muffins-it started in college; I can't get enough of them. Unfortunately for me, the occurrence of Stop N Shops in the city is even sparser than Target, primarily in outlying areas of The Bronx, Queens and Brooklyn. So I was being both ambitious and pragmatic with my "two-for-one" mentality.

The thing is, the Stop N Shop/Target thing ended up being kind of difficult, for some obvious reasons but also some not so obvious ones. Like it probably wouldn't have been such a hassle in the summer- less clothing and baggage (my purse would have been smaller), it would have been better if I'd gone in the daytime, if I'd brought my own shopping bags (like I'd planned to), if I'd known where exactly I was going, if my back hadn't already been hurting, if I didn't have my lunch bag with me and been dressed for work, etc. And then there are the obvious things like, I should have gotten a cab, I should have come earlier instead of at damn near eight p.m., I should have written a list instead of relying on my memory, etc.

But I didn't die and I didn't exactly feel like "I'll never do this again". I got off at 231st Street and walked about three or four blocks to Stop N Shop only to discover, as is appropriate, that the muffin pickins are pretty slim by 7:30 at night. Which again makes sense if they're fresh-made every day. So I grabbed six muffins and bounced thinking that Target was back about 5 blocks. Try 10. I could have, and maybe should have walked up to 238th St. and taken the 1 train back two stops to Target. But I walked. Someone I asked for directions along the way directed me through the Marble Hill Houses. I was thinking as she spoke, I rarely cut through the PJs in my own neighborhood; I'm certainly not cutting through in the Bx. Especially not at night. (My sense of fear clearly still resides in late 1980's/early '90s NYC). But that bit of cowardice on my part added about three blocks to my walk making it about the equivalent of walking from Bedford Park Blvd. to Fordham Road (since I'm in a Bx mindset) or to be more current, where I used to live on 131st to Settepani Restaurant on 120th. Normally not so bad a walk at all- but after work, in my winter coat, carrying my heavy @ss purse (that my doctor said I have to give up) and my half empty lunch bag, I felt like one of those African ladies carrying her child on her back and her market goods on her head. (Speaking of African, there was a nice African Import/Export shop over there on Broadway that might be nice to revisit).

So I was kind of tired and hungry by the time I got to Target. I was reminded that you should never grocery shop on an empty stomach. Again at Target, the pickins were slim and all they had was whole milk Lactaid, which I don't drink anymore. The Lean Cuisines and Smart Food dinners were on sale. The Dreyers ice cream was on sale but the stock was depleted. There were some cleaning products on sale but I couldn't carry them…. Overall it looked like there was a good sale on for those adequately prepared (read: not me). Ultimately, I bought about three bags worth of sale items and then climbed back on the iron horse. And so though the trip wasn't a complete waste of time, I felt acutely aware of the fact that I could have had it all (2 plus hours worth) done in about 45 minutes if I could drive (which I can't). Or if I had a man that could drive (which I don't)…but that's a whole other ball of wax.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Apple Pie for dinner

I, of course have to go to the Bronx tonight to get my Apple pie…every time I even think it, I’m reminded what a “fat-girl” move it is for me to be going all the way to The f@#$ing Bronx to pick up a pie. A PIE! Unbelievable. Well, this is my life now apparently. I should just embrace it. I could make the excuse that I’m only getting the pie because I had it made for me and since my cousin went through the trouble, going to the Bronx is the least I could do. All of this is true- but honestly if I wasn’t locked in already, I would not be going to the Bronx to pick up no GD pie! OK, the truth is, I do also want the pie. I mean it won't go to waste, if I left it there I know my cousin’s boyfriend would eat it. I don’t have to worry about that. But then I’d also have to hear about the trouble I put my cousin through only to not come get it. It’s hardly worth the confusion. But still that’s a damn convenient excuse for me to be taking my fat a$$ to the Bronx for pie. Mmmm...good pie too. Dammit!

Anyhoo, after I come back from the Bronx, I’m gonna head over to Blockbuster to finally return these movies (the Back-Up Plan and Repo Men) that I’ve had for over four months. I don’t know what’s new at Blockbuster but I think Social Network is in, so maybe that (if I can get it on a Friday night) and something else. Then I guess, buy some ice cream for my pie. Ahh, another wonderful night. Good times.

Love Is

On my way into work this morning my iPod, which I've taken to calling my iPod Shuffle of Destiny (for reasons I won't go into right this second), played
"Love Is" by Vanessa Williams and Brian McKnight for the second time in two days. Now, if you knew my iPod Shuffle of Destiny, you'd know that there is something of portent about that. What? I have no idea. But I know that I was struck repeatedly by the lines: Love aches for everyone of us/ Love takes the tears and the pain/ and it turns it into the beauty that remains

Having recently lost my beloved grandmother, that line has more than it's usual lovelorn sting. Usually I can scoff at the sentiment, but when thinking of her- I see it so clearly. How I will carry my love for her long beyond her grave, long beyond my own. Be it familial, unrequited, puppy, first or endless...love lights the world /unites the lovers for eternity... On a cold dark day like today, that's a comforting thought.


Thursday, January 13, 2011

A little fun today

So for the past week or so I've only been writing kind of stream of consciousness posts that deal with my general complaints and thoughts about my life. It seems whiny to me in retrospect. But whining was not my intent. Truth be told, I was doing that because it was easy and allowed me not to deal with my anxiety surrounding trying to "embed" video and add links to my posts. See, if I only talked about thoughts and feelings, I didn't have to add a link to the new Green Hornet trailer or Jermaine Stewart's video "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off" (which I love by the way).

But now is, apparently, the time to put away childish things and try to really be a big girl and try to put a video in this post. So here it is. Nothing new just something that sort of consistantly makes me laugh. Not quite as good as their christmas classic feat. Justin Timberlake -"D@#$ in a Box", but still a terrific runner up. Lonely Island's Jizz In My Pant. Look closely for a glimpse of JT as the janitor:

Monday, January 10, 2011

Married Men (NOT) Wanted

So I know that I'm, at this point, writing to myself but at some point eventually someone will read this and hopefully answer this for me. My question of the day is: Is there something about some women that make them more attractive to attached (read: married) men? Is there something in their demeanor or comportment or carriage that makes a man with prior commitments think they are more attractive than others? Do they look easy, or merely uncomplicated? Better yet do they seem more susceptible to the "ole okey-doke" (i.e. calls whenever, treated however, taken in by whatever, available to whomever)?

I ask this because over my so-called dating life, I've seemed to attract more than my fair share of espoused gentleman. Not men in relationships- I think those dudes are par for the course. (Uncommitted) men play the field, they check to make sure that the grass is not indeed more verdant elsewhere. They explore their options and venture down new pathways- they stray. That's just the way of the world. Not as I would like it, of course, but it just is. I'm talking MARRIED men. Men with wives, men with children(!), men with mortgages, and children's playdates and couple-friends and in-laws and family vacations. Married men! MARRIED.

What. Is. That. About?

Why me? What scent do I give off that says that is acceptable to me? (It's not). What about me says don't even bother pretending that you are not in some other committed relationship? I mean even if they lie to me at first, they don't bother to lie for very long. And generally they don't even bother. Sometimes they tell me about their plans with their families or how much they admire their wives! Excuse me, ¿que? Why I sit around long enough for much past that is anyone's guess.

And do I splash my drink in their face? Do I curse them out? Do I beat them like a little old lady with my purse? No. I just laugh politely and walk away. Or finish our conversation and move on. Or change the subject to keep things platonic. Maybe if I flipped out, this would happen less frequently. Clearly, I must be doing or acting in a way that is particularly attractive to this segment of society. So what is it I'm doing and how do I stop doing it?

To further complicate matters, my friend says I generally walk around with a neon sign on my forehead saying "Stay Away!" and am apparently frequently hostile and unapproachable. (This is news to me, but I'm the trusting sort. I'll take her word for it). So I'm pretty sure it's not Eau de Desperation I'm giving off. But if not, why is it that married men particularly, are the ones willing to go once more unto the breach? Huh? I mean since they've got a sure thing at home, why bother? Is it just for sport? To keep the skills sharp? And if so, what sort of sport is that? Am I good "game" for those who want the thrill of cheating but have no intent to actually do it? Do they like me because they know they won't make any actual head way with me? By playing with me are they in fact playing with themselves? Am I the metaphysical equivalent of masturbation?

A free dinner for anyone in the metropolitan area that can riddle me that. Just please, for heaven's sake, don't be married.

Friday, January 7, 2011

The Road Not Taken

One day, about twelve or so years ago, my very best friend Claire* and I were hanging in her bedroom talking about her prom date. He was the older son of a good friend of her mom's who her mom had since fallen out with. She told me as a result they'd lost touch but she had still nursed the crush on him she'd had since adolescence. I asked if she knew his full name, she replied "of course I do!" and I suggested she look him up on Anywho.com. She did and found him-first name, first try. They reconnected, dated for a while before going their separate ways (because that's how that type of sh*t works for Claire- for me he'd have said "great hearing from you" and then hung up the phone never to be heard from again). They never really got serious and it ended about as drama-free as it began.

Though I only technically met him once, I, like Claire when they dated, was completely caught up and thought he was fabulous: cute, smart, a writer for XXL Mag (with a big name law degree he didn't use), knew everyone in the Hip Hop world worth knowing, traveled, wrote articles and wore (insert harps and angels singing here) a "Press" badge. Really, as I toiled at my little no-name internet mag (before that was a respectable thing) he was kinda living the life I wanted (replace XXL with Honey). I mean, my fantasies were his life crossed with dream hampton's. When she would relay to me all the fabulous stories that he would tell her about this person or that, I was in seventh heaven. For example, the time Erykah Badu sent him a birthday card with a $20 bill in it and the note to have a dime bag on her (I mean how f*ckin' cool is that?!?) His life rocked! Hard!

But like I said it all fizzled out- they broke up, he went to Vibe as the music editor, didn't publish a thing and was promptly laid off when the executive editorial staff changed over (in the Mimi Valdés days I think). And here's a little secret- Claire doesn't like lack of ambition, as a character trait (Which always makes me wonder what the hell she's friends with me for?) Anyhoo, during that time their moms reconnected (none too happy that she and he had been dating) and thus even after the break-up Claire was able to continue to keep up with his progress (or lack thereof) through them. It would be no exaggeration to say things took a serious turn for him- really like everyone, including me, after 9/11. In retrospect, perhaps the break up hadn't been quite as amicable as I thought. Periodically we'd have a laugh at his expense as he we heard he appeared to be circling the drain: lights cut off, deep in debt, lost his apartment, borrowing money from mom, then flying off to France inexplicably- and marrying an older Black American ex-pat he met there. (Secretly, a little of this impetuous behavior still impressed me but the question of how he was getting by day to day in a foreign country scared the sh*t out of me).

So fast forward ten years- he and Claire are FB friends. Claire's happily married and living in PA, he and his wife have two beautiful boys and he seems to be doing the d@mn thing in France. Nothing extreme or that extraordinary, but it looks like his bills are getting paid, he seems linked into the ex-pat community out there and he's continuing to do what he loves. He has his little website that he writes for… and did I already say, he lives in f*ckin Paris! I'm just so incredibly jealous. Yes, what he did initially seemed stupid, and I more than co-signed when Claire was bashing him for recklessness. But in hindsight- right down to the useless law degree, I wish I'd had the nerve to do it too. I mean I'm in debt, still haven't managed to get into grad school, am borrowing from parents- if I didn't have them to help out, my lights would have been cut off long ago, my life is generally a mess. How is it so different (or better) from his life, that I was gleefully ridiculing a few years ago? At least, he can say he went for it. He can say that sh*t has been rough but he's living the life he chose (not that chose him). I continue to this day, to this minute, to let my mortal fear of the unknown constrain me.

Five years ago, I went to his book signing (did I mention he wrote a book?) at Hue-man Bookstore in Harlem. I was one of five people in attendance, including his dad. He didn't recognize me (I didn't expect him to- in fact that was part of the point- a little reconnaissance for my BFF). But I realize now, that night I was motivated in two parts by envy and by curiosity. He did not look any worse for wear. He was warm, charming, happy and grateful, doing a small tour before rejoining his family overseas. I allowed myself to be cheerfully disdainful; thinking of how the once mighty had fallen- blithely tearing down his achievement in my mind. I never read the book he inscribed. And then today I actually saw his website for the first time. Read some of the stories of the different Ex-pats- who, admittedly had far more going for them than I do, but moved to Paris to just live their lives. And so ultimately, the real point is that they did it, they made it happen for themselves. They grabbed their proverbial balls and manned up. Truth be told the site was nice and I'm genuinely happy for him.

Like one of my favorite poems goes…"it's a fierce thing, this enlightenment."


*Name changed to protect the guilty

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Is Fat Un-Sexy?

Back in my former life, when I wrote for an internet mag that doesn't exist anymore, I wrote a little something in which I questioned whether fat was sexy. Citing big-girl friends, a coworker no man seemed to be able to get enough of and a certain Ms. Lisa Nicole Carson (of Ally McBeal/ER fame) I wondered aloud if big girls were in the midst of a renaissance. Seems as though the answer is no, not in the 2011.

Recently, I was reading Belle in Brooklyn's blog on Essence (apparently, I'm on a black women's blog kick in the '11) and she was talking about how black women's weight issues are turning men off. When I read it I was surprised, honest to God. Really, I knew that was a sticking point for white men, asian men. I've even had those convos with people about it. (i.e. if I'm serious about opening up my dating landscape maybe I should consider losing a couple, two, three, twenty pounds or so…) But silly me, I thought if Black men didn't actually prefer it (some don't – my father being a prime example) at least for the most part they really didn't care one way or another. I know plenty of big girls that are batting away men like flies. And I'm not talking about the morbidly obese now- waddling down the street, looking like they are going to die after taking a flight of stairs- Black, white, pink, purple, or blue, they may have problems finding anybody but the proverbial "chubby chasers". But I thought a girl my size (alternately anything from a 10 to 16- my weight fluctuations are a real b*tch) wasn't going to get much static from the brothas. But apparently, nope. My Black men hate that sh*t too.

So Belle was talking about all the letters she got from a male reader (she excerpt some of them- "mac & cheese, the spaghetti, the fried chicken and friend [sic] pork chops have become YOUR OWN WORST ENEMY") about the fact that maybe black women were disproportionately alone because we were lard a$$es! She said her last boyfriend had basically said something like that to her and so when she read the emails, she sat in Starbucks and cried until her eyes were puffy. L That is so hard to hear. I mean even if you're like me and you've heard people (like my dad) say it a million times, to read it in print- not framed nicely either- is rough. So all that to say, stay in that gym girl. Whether it's your co-worker Brad or Khalil from around the way, they're gonna be far more interested if you're rail thin than curvy (as euphemism for chunky).

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Mega Millions

So tonight is the Mega Millions lotto drawing. Like a good (yet foolish) girl, I already have three tickets in my possession. One gifted to me by one of my dearest friends (I think it was a late Christmas gift), and two I bought over my lunch break. I'm debating currently buying a fourth. For some reason, five keeps coming to me- but I'm gonna cut my losses and stick with three I think. You only need one to win right?

And speaking of winning, though I don't seriously think there's even a possibility, every time I give it any real somber thought I break out in a cold sweat. My heart races. My head starts to hurt. My stomach starts to churn. Funnily enough, these are also the feelings I get when I think of love. No wonder I'm a single girl huh?

Not that I don't want these things: Love and/or Money. I just associate them both with such awful stuff: Lotto winners have strangers that prey on them, old friends that come out of the woodwork, distant cousins with hard luck stories, etc. Lovers have lies, betrayals, manipulations that last long after the love fades. It makes you not even want to do it, don't buy that ticket, don't play those numbers, don't trust that person, don't fall for that line. These moments are when you really see people at their worst. And it's gnashing the teeth kind of scary… at least for me.

But imagining the freedom that could come with all that money, the happiness that could come with knowing you're loved. It's compelling. It's seductive. It makes you blow your hard earned money on those ridiculously miniscule odds (I'm talk love AND money now people).

So like I said, I bought three ticket, and I'm contemplating a fourth… I also have my eye on a certain someone at Match.com. Wish me luck!

Monday, January 3, 2011

Happy New Year!

Hotchoqlit aka me, has been contemplating the concept of self-actualization today. Last night, I was reading (or really just skimming) an interesting article on Clutch Magazine that warned that one cannot find love and true happiness without some semblance of self-actualization. If that's true, then I'm as cooked as overdone salmon. I am perhaps the least "actualized" person I know. Unlike my friends who either continue to strive for the goals of their youth or have come to terms with the realities of their current lives and made the necessary moves to mold it into something that they can truly live with, I am in stasis. Is that the word I'm looking for? I'm in a state of suspended animation. Nothing flowing in and nothing flowing out- maybe I meant stagnation? Unhappy with my life as it stands but completely unwilling(?) oblivious(?) unable(?) to find a satisfactory way out- a means to change, nothing ever does. To give you an idea of what I mean by that, let me just say, I could have written that exact same sentence eight or ten years ago (except maybe switch out the period for an exclamation point). Not a thing has changed. At the time I thought, "oh you're having one of those Quarter Life Crisis (crisises?) that everyone's talking about". Almost a decade later can that still be true? At this rate, I'm gonna run right into mid-life and never have had a "crisis"-free year!

Oh, but don't cry for me, Argentina. This is what happens every New Year's: the despair, the hand wringing, the self-flagellation, the grand malaise. And yet by the end of January, I'll have snapped out of it and then I'll spend the next eleven months somnambulating through until I run right smack into Old Man 2011 and again fall flat on Baby 2012. So what can I do this year that will stop the madness? I don't make resolutions generally- because I discovered young I don't like what a loser I feel like when I've already blown them all by March.

So I'm thinking… I can approach, tentatively, small changes, the ones that I can probably accomplish relatively easily and feel majorly satisfied. A new hairstyle- perhaps? A standing appointment at the nail salon? Freshen up my resume. Another ten pounds at Weigh Watchers? Wearing a little makeup (maybe just some liner and lipstick) everyday. Write something, anything on this blog at least twice a week. Login to my insurance website and find a new therapist. Downgrade my cable package? Upgrade from Silver to Gold on my Borders Reward card. Register to retake the GREs. Maybe. Let's not get too ambitious. Small things that I think would make next New Year's a little better. Okay, and one more that's a bit more tricky and formidable- dare to be a little more friendly on the dating websites (like, not view it as a rogue's gallery of losers, deviants and serial killers)- so basically jump into the aughts, a year late.

I think I can do that.

PS. Gabrielle Carteris (of old-90210 fame) is 50 years old today. I don't know how to synthesize that information. It doesn't make me feel old exactly, seeing as I was about 12 when it started but I don't feel young.