Eye Of The Tiger

I am sitting in the Salt Lake City Airport as I type this. I'm on my way home for a trip to see The Minister. I'm very near to comatose. I HATE flying, so I always try to get flights early in the morning. Then I spend the day before forcing myself to stay up all night packing and cleaning my apartment. That way I can sleep on the plane and save myself hours of anxiety. Pretty nifty routine, right? Mostly it works, but it isn't fool proof. When you are about to drop from exhaustion airport security is not the best place to be. I find myself asking them to repeat themselves a lot. Apparently asking the blue-haired ( no, really the tips of her weave are blue!), lady to repeat what she just said is a no no. I thought they were gonna tackle me for not taking off my jacket before going through the metal detector. Craziness. Well I made it through security and even boarded my flight out of New Orleans. Pretty uneventful flight because I was knocked out as soon as I sat down and buckled my seat belt. Now I'm waiting for my next flight and there is a toddler in front of me. I swear this kid has the "eye of the tiger". He's staring me down and not blinking. I should feel ashamed that I just got beat in a stare-down by a freaky little airport kid, but all I can think is. "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to challenge of our rivals!"
Pathetic I know. I typed this whole post on my cell. I'm getting better at this. Time to board for the final flight to CA. Hopefully the previously mentioned freaky kid isn't sitting next to me. There is something wrong about that little chump!

OINK, OINK

I know I have been pretty lazy with my updates recently. I don't have a good excuse. I guess I've been busy but not Obama busy so there really is no excuse. Hmmmm a lot has happened since my last update. Nothing truly life changing or worthy of blogging about. The same random craziness that makes up my life.
I had a post not too long ago about my current book club pick, One Hundred Years of Solitude , . I have tried and not been able to get into this book. I have been told it is a classic and I'm missing out, but I am just not getting it. Apparently I'm not an enlightened reader. I've been reading everything but the book I'm supposed to be reading. Here's a little something funny. See if you can follow my stream of thought. I went to see The Proposal starring Sandra Bullock a couple of weeks ago and then a little more recently I went to see The Ugly Truth with Katherine Heigle. While I could take or leave The Proposal I really liked The Ugly Truth. I started wondering why I liked one so much but not the other. On the surface they are not that different. Both are romantic comedies or chick flicks, both starring actresses I like, neither one is going to win any awards. I have concluded that the main reason I liked the second movie better than the first is because of the raunch factor. I liked that they curse and talk about sex. I like that they have a scene where the main character has an orgasm in a crowded restaurant. You'll never have a scene like that in a Sandra Bullock movie. Now as I was analyzing this my eyes landed on a book I bought some time ago. The title is Female Chauvinist Pigs:Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture. It seemed almost too perfect. So I'm currently reading this book and trying to determine if I'm a female chauvinist pig. I'm a little ways into the book and I must say, right now it's looking like a yes. I'm not broken up about it. I drink more than I should, curse more than two people should, I love to hear a good dirty joke and I know the value of potty humor. I once walked into a friend's apartment and found a room full of men watching porn. I could have turned around and apologized for interrupting their "male bonding" but I was fascinated. I swear to you, no one I know would do the things the girl on screen was doing. I felt it was my civic duty to explain to them that women didn't really like that. Sometimes men act like they don't understand that the woman on screen is getting paid to pretend she likes that crap. Plus they had pizza and booze. So I sat down in a room of 5 men and calmly ate pizza, drank beer and Jameson and discussed porn. I'm not even a little sorry I did it. I learned a lot and it was a non-sexual experience. I told a friend this story and she was horrified for about 3 seconds then fascinated. On the flip side. I go to church most Sundays, I don't sleep around, I don't dress in revealing clothes. I have never been offended when a door is opened for me, but I don't mind opening my own door. I pay my own bills every month, own my car and feel I'm a pretty independent woman. I don't get nervous going to a crowded restaurant and eating alone or catching a movie alone. I know how to change a flat tire on my SUV but I prefer to pay for Roadside Assistance. I live alone by choice, but love when my male friends come to visit and dump my garbage for me. Strange, strange, strange. I'll keep you all updated on what my final decision is. I don't think I'm the only one either. Now the discussing porn with a room full of men might be unique to me, but the other stuff is not so odd. I know many women who lead similar lives.

You Dropped a Bomb On Me!

Today I'm doing something a little different. I'm giving a much deserved shout out to my own personal glam squad. Yeah I said it. The Pauper Princess has a glam squad. Now because I'm poor of course my squad is on a budget. Lucky for me I have Pauper Tip #1...."Work your connections!" In my case that means take advantage of the fact that I have a super talented make-up artist cousin. My cousin Colijia is the shit when it comes to hooking up a look. She is a certified make up artist and consultant. And because she can't stand to see her people, ie.. me looking a hot mess she teaches me how to do my make up. She also breaks a sistah off with some really cool and expensive MAC make-up on occasion. I do love the products but lets face it MAC ain't for the broke! So being the diva she is, Colijia will also alert me to lower cost items that work good enough for an amateur like me. She even gave myself and some friends a make up consultation and application class the last time she came to visit. I may be a pauper but no one has better make-up than the Princess when I use the skills and products she recommends. So now I'm just as proud as can be to let you all know that she and a fellow make up artist, Starlynn, have started their own company. The name of the company is Bombshell Beauty.They are really talented and because we know there is a recession they are affordable. So to get things rolling for folks not near them they have set up a couple of tutorials on youtube. Yes I am shamelessly plugging them, but they are worth it. So checkout the video I've tried to embed. I really hope it works. If not someone with blogger know how needs to tell me how to embed a youtube video. Also subscribe to them on youtube because they are going to be posting a lot more tutorials.

Friday, Friday

It's Friday y'all. I've had a long crazy week. It's only 2 pm and I feel like it is 6pm already. It seems as if the Universe itself is aligning to help me feel better after last weekend's emotional upheaval. Mr Bunny has been on his best behavior which is definitely not his norm. I'm making some progress on my project at school and I was able to pay all my bills this month without help from my fam. So all in all pretty good. I'm still worried about my friend, but there isn't anything else I can do. I call her cell everyday when I get home from school. Sometimes she answers, sometimes she doesn't. I'm not sure which is worse. Talking to her and hearing how far she is from her normal sane self or not talking to her and wondering if she is hurt. And this too shall pass! My little two year old nephew learned how to speed dial me this week. So I did receive a call at 1:30 in the morning because he woke up in the middle of the night while everyone was asleep and decided to call me. It would have been 11:30 his time.
Another cute thing that happened this week is that I had a kitten for 3 days. Growing up I always had cats and I do miss that. On Tuesday morning when I came back from Bootcamp there was a little black and white kitten sitting on my porch. He was a little skittish when I leaned down to pet him, but he came around. I noticed he was very skinny and pretty dirty. I ran inside and got him some lunchmeat and water. He ate it and then ran into the bushes. So that evening when I returned home I looked for him. Sure enough he was sleeping under a neighbor's car. I gave him a little more water and the last of my lunchmeat. I doubted he would eat Mr. Bunny's food. On Wednesday I asked my neighbors if he belonged to them, but noone knew where he came from. Wednesday night I made tuna casserole for dinner. It wasn't that good becuase I used soy milk instead of regular milk. Oh well, by the time it was finished I was starving so I ate it. Well Thursday morning the little kitten, who by this time I was calling Oreo, was waiting on my doorstep again. I figured he could eat some of the tuna casserole. I know it's not the optimum meal for a cat, but hey it's better than air-bisquits. Well Oreo didn't think so. A starving cat won't even eat my cooking. Classic! He looked at me like I was trying to poison him. Times like this I miss my baby brother because he would have eaten it. Of course he would only be doing it because A) he didn't have to make it and B) he would need to be accurate in his description when he retold the story about how nasty it was! Well apparently it was nasty enough for Oreo to find a better place to get his meals. I haven't seen him since he decided tuna casserole was not for him.

Not sure what to call this one

This is more of a rant than a post. I'm really frustrated and kind of sad. I have a friend that I've known since freshman year of undergrad. She was my roommate when I got my first apartment off campus. Well sadly this weekend, I found out that she has deteriorated mentally. She is currently in a paranoid state and travelling aimlessly. She called me for the first time in about a year and a half and she didn't sound well. I asked her to let me help her and she wasn't cooperative. Finally I called the police in her state and asked them to send an ambulance to her. She refused treatment and is now travelling somewhere else. I am very worried about her and I feel helpless. I know that ultimately I can't help her until she is ready to be helped, but it still worries me. So that is why I'm sad at the moment.
I'm also steaming hot because a second friend of mine showed me the true extent of her selfishness. I have always known she was a self-centered and selfish person, but I guess I deluded myself about the extent of it. Every other friend I have that has met her, comments on how selfish she is, but I always defended her. I mean I have no illusions about myself (well maybe a few.. I still believe that I could marry The Rock and be quite happy!) I know that I can be self-centered sometimes as well. I guess I just assumed she was only really selfish for unimportant stuff and that if there were a true emergency or something important she would rise above it and do "what's right". I was so very wrong. Part of the reason I'm mad is because she has never hidden her selfish behavior. I blame myself for not paying attention to what she has shown me via her behavior for years. This is one of those situations where I think I'm just as much to blame as her because I refused to see what was apparent to everyone else. I know I'll get over it in a few days, but I'll never be as willingly blind again. Hopefully!
On a better note. I have been kind of a slacker in my bootcamp. There are two instructors and one of them makes a point of standing next to me often when he is calling out the exercises, then eyeballing me to make sure I'm keeping up. Usually I'm not keeping up. If we do 55 sit-ups I probably only complete 40. Twenty-five squats usually turns into about 18. You get the picture. When we run I'm usually in the last group coming in. Well I was so frustrated and angry about last weekend events that this week I have moved into the middle group. Seriously y'all I had my "Eye of the Tiger" game-face on. I was working off some major frustration. The instructor even went so far as to tell me I was "on fire!" If you believe in prayer please add my dear friend and myself to your prayer lists.

Boot Camp Update and Micheal Jackson

I haven't been posting the last couple of days for a number of reasons. I started my BootCamp on Monday. It is really kicking my butt. I'm gonna stick with it though. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up a reduced workout schedule once my month is over. I'm not the worst one in the class but I can give her a high five without extending my arm all the way. Oh well. I think this is good for me. I needed to kick start my exercise program and this is a very strong kick in the behind.
I am still processing the whole Michael Jackson is dead thing. I was in the mall when I found out. It sounds silly but it was kind of in slow motion. This girl next to me at the Sephora store let out a shriek and started babbling about how she couldn't believe it. Me being the nosy person I am, asked her what was wrong. Her sister had just sent her a text that Michael was dead. It took a minute to sink in. I found myself strangely sad. Not in the dramatic throw yourself on the coffin way but a little more than the "a human being just left this earth" way. I don't know if I'm making sense. Whenever I hear about any death I feel a base level of sadness. Mostly for the surviving relatives and friends and just acknowledging that a fellow being is no longer alive. This was a little more than that. Maybe the kind of sadness associated with an acquaintance, but not a relative. Which is strange in and of itself because I never met him. I've decided the sadness is mostly because when I forget about the most recent scandals associated with him I can remember good things. I remember excellent parts of my childhood that involved his music. Kind of like if your Grandma always baked pumpkin pie for Christmas and you randomly smell pumpkin pie baking you think of Christmas with Grandma. So without further ado here is a short list of thank yous for the now deceased Michael Jackson.

• Thank you for the hours I spent singing ABC and Rockin' Robyn into my pink portable "sing with me" cassette player and matching microphone.
• Thank you for Thriller and the memory I have of a lot of my extended family gathered around the t.v. watching it. I remember my baby brother who would be embarrassed to know that I remember he was afraid of the werewolf. He grabbed my leg. Strangely the zombies didn't bother him.
• Thank you for the genius that is PYT that song has been in heavy rotation with me since I first heard it.
  
• The moonwalk. I never could get it right but my older brother could do it.
• Red or black zipper jackets. I wanted one so bad because my brothers had them. My aunt did buy me a sequined glove to make up for the fact that I didn't get the jacket.
• Thanks for the countless bruises to my shin whenever I didn't judge distance correctly trying to do your dances. I kicked many tables and chairs in my quest to "do the Michael Jackson".
• Thanks for the black eye I got when my younger brother and I re-enacted the knife fight from Beat It using a jump rope to tie our hands and licorice as knives. His hand slipped and he clocked me a good one.
  
• Thanks for always putting on a performance worthy of the excitement I felt when I knew you were going to perform.
• Thanks for being a hot mess after plastic surgery so I knew I better love my face because surgery doesn't always improve.
  
• This last thank you is a little sad, but here goes. Thanks for providing fodder for countless Michael Jackson jokes as the years wore on. I should be ashamed because some of the jokes were inspired by your no doubt drug induced behavior, but they were funny and I laughed.

I hope you are at peace now. I went to a bar on Saturday and the DJ played three and a half hours of Michael's music. I danced the night away and just celebrated with a room full of people who felt the same way I did. Michael and his music was just such a fixture in my life I never even considered he wouldn't be around anymore. I'm sorry your life was so troubled, but I'm very happy that I have a long list of things to thank you for.

Way Down in the Jungle Deep....

Points to anyone who knows off the top of their head where I got the heading to my post. Last night was a pretty relaxed night for me. I went to Target to get the things I need for my bootcamp. I'm getting nervous as the time to start gets closer. The trainer, Jonas, specified exercise mats not yoga mats. What's the difference you might ask? Ten to fifteen dollars that's what. I spent about 20 minutes molesting exercise and yoga mats in the store to determine the difference between the two. There is a big enough difference in price that I need to be sure it's worth it. I finally bit the bullet and picked out one of the "exercise" mats. Of course I chose the one that was only $10 more expensive than the yoga mat. I also needed dumbbells. He sent an email requesting that we bring 5-8 lb weights. I want 2-3 lb weights. I was gonna just say f' it and get the 2lb weights then pride stopped me. I don't want to be the only one with pink 2lb weights when everyone else is using five.
Later that night I met up with my friend Melanie. She is on my kickball team and she is an archaeologist. I love that the closest most people get to an archaeologist is watching Indiana Jones, but I know several and they are all women. Look out now! Anyway we decided to drink cheap but delicious box wine and watch......ready for it ....Dolemite!!! Yes, we watched the epic blaxpoitation flick. Rudy Ray Moore at his peak. I'm sure I just set black folks back a couple of generations but I do love these movies. They are vulgar, the acting is usually bad, and they are totally not politically correct. I don't care.

Naked Boo, I See You.. But I Don't Want To

Here is a bit of craziness that I've been stewing over since Friday. A friend or actually an acquaintance recently had hip surgery. Thankfully, everything turned out well and she is recovering rapidly. Well, myself and a couple others decided to stop by and visit her while she is home-bound for recovery. She was contacted and we set a date and time for us to visit. We brought drinks and snacks just to chit chat and keep her company for a few hours. She was really excited about the scheduled visit. I know this because coordinating this venture required dozens of emails back and forth between all of us. So Friday after school/work we all head over there at the appointed time. She is very gracious and happy to see us, but I get steamed as soon as I walk through the door. Wanna know why? I'll tell you! This woman is wearing a threadbare housecoat with nothing on underneath it. Totally, nasty, naked boo. Wouldn't have been so bad if the housecoat covered her adequately, but it didn't. There was a deep V in the front that gave you a generous view of her bra-less sagging breasts,(I mean these bad boys gave up the fight against gravity years ago), wide arm holes that showed off skin rolls down her side. And to top it off the housecoat had holes in different parts of it. So there was a whole lot of pink skin just showing through. I personally believe everyone should love their body no matter what it looks like. We all have imperfections, but and this is a very strong but. I don't want to see your nakedness just cause. I keep my shit covered up and you should too. I mean we ain't (yes this calls for bad grammar, that's how steamed I am) kin. What upsets me is that she knew we were coming. She set the date and time. We didn't just surprise her while she was minding her own business. I was offended. She could have at least put a slip or something on under the housecoat. The surgery was on her hip last I checked bra's don't touch the hip. WTF? I was getting hot, hot, hot. What to do? I couldn't just go off on her in her own home. People can dress the way they want in their own home. That's when it hit me. I have an apartment of my own where I am not looking at unwanted nakedness. So I immediately stood up, gathered my shit and went home. She may wonder why I left so soon. I wish she would ask me because I'm dying to tell her. You just don't do shit like that. I have recounted this story to The Minister and my friend De. Both of them chose to laugh at my outrage. Maybe I was a little too worked up, but god dawg don't people have "home training" anymore? She should know better. Moral of the story. If you are ever sick and recovering it would be my pleasure to come visit you and keep you company. That's what friends are for. Don't get too comfortable. If we were comfortable enough for skin privileges you would know. Chances are we aren't. Ahhhh.. I feel much better now that I got that out there.

Huh? What? Can't Hear You!

As I type this blog there is all kinds of craziness going on behind me. They are fixing/updating the air conditioning system in my building at school. That means that parts of the building are like walking into a swamp and other parts are arctic. My particular lab is about 82 degrees right now and that's with the help of a giant standing unit. This thing makes more noise than a freight train. One step into the sweltering hallway and I'm willing to put up with it for a while. I think I'll have to bring earplugs for the rest of the week. My lab mates and I have resorted to hand signals to communicate because of the noise.
My weekend was pretty nice. I went to see The Proposal on Saturday. I woke up my friends Roma and Alyson and convinced them to meet me at the 10:55 am showing. It was a pretty good movie. It was classic Sandra Bullock. Pretty predictable but still entertaining. Definitely a chick flick. I'm ok with that. I mean I read romance novels can't get more guilty pleasure than that. Also Ryan whatever his name is, looked good if you like clean-cut Kennedy style guys. I'm not so much into that. Anywho it was an enjoyable way to spend the morning with some of my girls.

To Booze or Not to Booze

I signed up to do one of those exercise bootcamps here in town. I don't know what exactly to expect. My bootcamp starts on the 29th of this month and ends the 24th of next month. It will be from 5:30am to 6:30am Monday to Friday. Crazy I know. I just wanted something to help me kick-start my exercise routine. I was very blase about it when I signed up but as the day gets closer I find myself getting worried. What if I'm the worst one in the class? We'll see. I also don't know if the instructor is gonna be a yeller like Louis Gosset Jr. in An Officer and A Gentleman. There is a reason I never even toyed with the idea of joining the military. I really don't like to be told what to do. Which lets you know signing up for this bootcamp is a big leap for me. Also, I had to sign a contract that says I won't drink or eat junk food during the month of bootcamp. I can easily cut out junk food, but alcohol? I find myself getting thirsty just thinking about cutting it out. hahahahaha I'm sure it will be good for me. I'm hesitant to give up all alcohol, but at least it's just alcohol not coffee. Giving up coffee would be a deal-breaker for me. I'm on my second cup as I write this blog! Big, full day of running errands ahead of me so I'm gonna start my day. Happy Saturday!

Pimm's Cup

Last night while having drinks with friends I was convinced to try a new drink. I must say I really liked it. It was very refreshing and a little sweet. I was on my second drink before I asked the name of this delicious new beverage. Pimm's Cup. Pimm's is a type of gin. It was served with a little slice of cucumber. Yummy. I highly recommend it. I dug around and found the recipe for it, so here it is courtesy of The Food Network.

Ingredients

• Ice cubes
• 2 ounces Pimms Number 1 Cup
• 6 ounces ginger ale
• 2 ounces lemon lime soda or club soda
• 1/4 cup cucumber pieces or 1 cucumber spear

Directions

Put ice in a highball glass or mug. Add the Pimms and then the ginger ale and soda. Stir and garnish with cucumber. Serve.

The Case of the Missing Pooh!

Over the weekend I promised my friend De a bag of Mr. Bunny pooh. Before you get the wrong idea it is for her compost heap. Mr. Bunny has been doing his best to reduce his and my carbon footprint by providing excrement to friends who have compost heaps and need a good source of nitrogen. The two people who receive the majority of his gifts are my friend De and my neighbor Theresa. Well I hung out with De on Saturday and promised to leave a bag of pooh on my doorstep Sunday that she could pick up after church. Before I left for a day of KOCC debauchery I put the bag on my front porch. I did notice some yellow garbage bags out there as well. They were for the AmVets charity collection. I made sure my paper bag containing a double wrapped plastic bag was well away from those. When I returned home late that night all the bags were gone and I didn't think anything of it. Listening to my voicemails Monday morning I learned different. De came by and there was no bag. Hmmm that's odd. The only person I would imagine taking it is Theresa but I usually just hand her a bag not sit it on my porch. I have been waiting to ask her about it. Last night I got my chance. Turns out she left to go out of town right after she put the AmVet bags on the porch. As near as I can tell the AmVets people will get an unpleasant surprise when they open one of the bags they took. Ahhh, if I could just be a fly on the wall for that unveiling!

Randomness Thy Name is Wal Mart

Last night I decided to make a quick trip to Wal Mart. I know I should have super middle class ethical issues with their labor practices and so on, but when I'm in a hurry I know Wal Mart will have what I need. Plus even with their horrible labor practices I remember what a help it was financially to my small town when Wal Mart came to town. They employ a lot of people. So there.
Back to my story. I just need a short list of things. Ice cream, leave in conditioner, a book, and the ingredients for caprese salad. That's it. No more, no less, no muss and no fuss. Wrong! It all started in the parking lot and if I was smart I would have just gotten back in my car and put the foolishness off for another day. I park and step out of my car and a young underage worker whistles at me. I give him the "I am old enough to be your mama, if I slutted it up early on in high school look!" He gets a little embarrassed and quickly finds something else more interesting. The security guard who is 300lbs if he's an ounce and doesn't appear to be at the top of the securitizing game laughs and tells me I just "stole that boy's man hood". I shit you not, that's what he said to me. Strange, but whatever. I need my leave in conditioner. I'm cruising the isles doing a good job of not getting too many things I don't need right now and getting what I came for. Suddenly the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I glance around and make eye contact with a migrant worker who is eye-balling me. I give him the blank face to discourage any conversation. I just need my conditioner. He says nothing and continues with the eye-balling. I go about my shopping and he follows me. Just to make sure I wasn't being paranoid I head to the feminine protection isle. If he follows there I know he is following and not just shopping. Oh he follows all right. He says nothing just follows and eyes me. Finally I can't take it anymore. I turn to him and ask what he wants. In broken English he asks me to have a drink with him. I tell him thanks, but no thanks. This should be the end. Nope, this is my life we are talking about and that would be too easy. I pick up tampons... Super Heavy Flow and wave them at him. He calmly hands me panty liners. What kind of fuckery. I want to laugh, but I don't want to encourage him. I throw the box in my cart and head off. He followed me almost the whole time I was there. I quickly head to the checkout 'cause I've had enough. The checker asks to see my ID because I'm purchasing alcohol. No problem... the picture is before my big chop so she squints at it for a while before handing it back to me. She then tells me I never should have destroyed such pretty hair. She is much older than me so instead of telling her to mind her f'ing business, I smile and say it will grow back. At this point I just want to leave. I pay for my purchases and rush home. While I'm putting my things away I notice two things. One, I bought a box of Super Heavy Flow tampons that are large enough to be used to stop a levee break (obviously not the size I use), and two..... no leave in conditioner.

Live Long and Prosper

I was finally able to see Star Trek last night. I loved it. I have been a Trekie for years, so I am already predisposed to enjoying the latest movie. It was fantastic. I thought it had just the right amount of camp to tie it into the original tv series and it was glitzed up a bit to make it modern. I have to confess that I was worried this movie would be a little like Star Trek the Next Generation. I liked that show, but I thought it was way too slick of an interpretation. It was very distanced from the original. The actors were outstanding and the show was well done, but it didn't really fit with the original show. People love the original series because it was campy and the acting wasn't always the best. This movie provided a good mix of campy and serious. I also have to mention that I have a new crush. The guy that played Spock, Zachary Quinto, hot hot hot. He and O'Hura were steaming up the bridge. Loved it! I will definitely add this to my collection when it becomes available. Happy Friday.

Things I Love

I am in a good mood this morning and feeling extra blessed. As I think about the things in my life I'm thankful for and blessed to have I feel the need to share. Here is a short list of things I love.

1. Life. I'm happy and blessed to be alive and healthy.
   
2. Family. Although my family can work my nerves like no one else, they also love me like no one else. I think there are some family members that I don't like very much, but I love them all. Loving is harder than liking.
3. Mr. Bunny. Love me some feisty bunny. Enough said!
4. Independence. I love that I have the right to choose my own path in life. I make choices that I feel are good for me and I'm not persecuted for them. Not every person and definitely not every woman has that right. So I'm thankful for the privilege.
5. Friends. I have been blessed to make and keep friends. I have friends that span the spectrum of liberal, conservative, race, gender, ethnicity (lot of people don't know that ethnicity and race are not the same), sexual orientation, religions. You get the picture. The common denominator in my friendships is me obviously! Actually the thing that ties all my friends together is that at their core, they are all good people. I recognize that not everyone has these types of relationships in their life so I'm grateful.
6. New Orleans. The city of New Orleans has some well-publicized problems. I'm not going to go into all of them it's enough to say that I am aware of them. I've lived here a long time. I often think the city is one of my friends that I'm so blessed to have. I love that I can find live music any night of the week. I love that there is a readily accessible art community. I am no kind of artist, but I am an admirer of art in most of its forms. I love that I can walk along magazine street with a tasty alcoholic beverage (in a plastic container of course) and not get hassled. I love that daiquiris are available in the movie theatre. I love that I can wear shorts 9 sometimes 10 months out of the year. Mardi Gras! I love that I live in a city that exposed me to things and situations that taught me true tolerance, acceptance and appreciation. Growing up in a conservative small town doesn't always prepare you for that.

This is definitely not a complete list. I was just feeling extra mushy today.

Hump Day Report

I went on a date last night. Yes, yours truly cleaned up a little and went 'a courtin'. The guy was really nice. I hate to say it, because its almost cliche but he was too nice. I like a little spice. You know? He is kind of a beta guy and I like alpha men. Nothing wrong with a beta, but I like 'em a little tougher. We went on a very casual outing. We got dinner at a sushi bar then hit up the theatre. We saw The Hangover which I highly recommend. It was freakin' hilarious. My stomach hurt from laughing when the movie was over. I will definitely add this to my movie collection when it comes to dvd. Also for any single ladies, this is where the boys are. We went to a relatively early show and I kid you not. There were about 10-13 women and probably 100 men in the theatre. I don't know about you, but those are very good odds. Now some of the men were in the definitely NO pile, but a good amount were viable options. The movie is definitely manly humor, but that's right up my ally.
Earlier in the day I had positive results to a set of experiments so I was on cloud 9. I felt like Hannibal from The A Team. "I love it when a plan comes together!" So my hump day report is that this week doesn't suck.

My Milkshake Brings All The Boys To The Yard

Wedding fever! I went to the wedding this weekend and it was great.
Edwin and Sarah looked so happy and in love. I wore the boobtastic
dress and it was well received. There was great music and an open bar.
I danced the night away. I think the dress worked a little too well
because at the end of the night a friend of mine who has a girlfriend
told my cleavage that he's had the hots for me since we met. Ahh
alcohol you elixir of truth, better known as horny sauce! I think I
played it well by smiling, nodding, then asking when my good friend
( his gf) was getting back in town. He took the hint. I did sneak into
the bathroom to snap a quick pick of the dress. Whatcha think?

The Clock Is Broken Again

I know this is the second post of today, but this has to be said. THE FRICKIN' CLOCK IS BROKEN. It has been in the 3 o'clock range for f'ing 2 hours. I want to leave. I can't take it anymore. I'm the only one here right now. I would leave if there weren't busy bodies watching. Uggghhh. I can't take it. And yes, I am overly dramatic. So what. I am ready to start my weekend. There is an indecently large glass of wine with my name on it, just waiting for me to kiss this place goodbye for the weekend. Ok. That's the end of my whine-fest. Happy Friday.

Girly Girl Night

Last night was a pretty laid back night for me. I showed my friend Alyson how to give herself a pedicure. I love going to the nail salon to get a spa pedicure, but whenever I'm low on funds nails are the first thing to go. I stopped getting acrylic nails and spa pedicures. Now I am forced to keep up with that stuff on my own. I own a spa foot soak tub and buying the footcare stuff was relatively cheap so it wasn't a big deal. I know I don't do as good a job as the ladies at the shop but it's free when I do it. My only problem is that I hate feet. I mean I'm happy my feet are functional and don't look like I could use them to catch fish from a lake, but I still think they are disgusting. I don't care how well manicured/pedicured feet are still nasty ass feet! I don't like my feet or anyone else's. I usually don't like people to touch my feet and I definitely won't touch anyone else's. I make an exception at the nail shop because when they finish I know my feet look as good as they ever will. I know it is craziness but it isn't going to change. I had an ex boyfriend who was in love with feet. He always wanted to massage my feet and touch them. We had to work out a foot schedule that basically worked out to he could handle my feet when I was too tipsy to care. I know once again craziness. With that said I am a fanatic about taking care of my feet. I think I go overboard making sure my feet are soft and toenails painted because I am so against feet from the jump. Sadly my poor friend thought it was gonna be one of those girly bonding nights were we did each other's toes and gossiped and watched tv. TV watching check! Gossip , whatcha know? Me touching someone else's feet? What you talkin' bout Willis? Once again I don't touch feet. After she finished laughing like a hyena we were able to get past it. Once the Lakeview Critic fell asleep on my couch and I wouldn't even touch her feet to take off her shoes. I just put a blanket on her to keep her warm. Ultimately it was a fun night we just both did our own thing. Also I made sure to give her a list ahead of time because I don't share foot stuff. Now she knows how to do it herself and will probably do it without me from now on. Personally I think that's how it should be.

We're Fugitives!

As I type this Mr. Bunny and I are ashamed to show our face in the neighborhood. I should say, I'm ashamed, Mr. Bunny is feeling no shame! So in my neighborhood Mr. Bunny is famous. First of all he is the only bunny on the block and I take him for walks on a leash. All the little kids love to come and pet him. He has stopped traffic on numerous occasions. For the past three years I've been loaning him out a few weeks before Easter to take pictures with my neighbor's children to send to their Grandma. Well what I've known all along and what my neighbors recently found out is Mr. Bunny has a darkside!! **gasp** He likes to attack other animals occasionally. He has never bitten a human as far as I know. He did try to pee on my ex-boyfriend the first time he met him. That was not only funny it turned out to be foreshadowing. Mr Bunny is still here almost-pee'd on boyfriend.. no longer around. You do the reasoning. He also attacked a friend's small dog. I am pretty sure this was done out of jealousy, because I was playing with the puppy. Once Mr. Bunny and I almost got "handled" by the Nation Guard. Don't have time to tell that story just know that it ends with me telling the machine-gun carrying guardsmen that "Me and Mr. Bunny are free Americans and can walk wherever we want", then picking up my fellow free American bunny and running like the hounds of hell were after us. Ahh good times. So this brings us to the reason for our fugitive state.
On Monday I was walking Mr. Bunny in the neighborhood when the previously mentioned neighbor-children came running up. They stopped to pet him as usual and the little girl even ran inside to get him a grape. She loves to feed him and he loves to eat it.. win-win situation. So the little boy brings over their brand new kitten. A really cute little black kitty that looks like it weighs about 2-3 lbs. I love cats so I make the appropriate oohs and ahhs. The kitty really is adorable. I should also mention that it was a really nice evening with a breeze and most of my neighbors were out in their yards. I don't know about other neighborhoods but it seems my neighbors like to be out in their yards with an alcoholic beverage in hand. Back to the story. The little boy puts the kitten on the grass in front of Mr. Bunny so he can meet it. Mr Bunny out of the blue lets out a "Rebel Yell" and attacks. (Most people would be shocked to learn that when appropriately pissed rabbits can growl. Not often and not usually but it is possible.) I was not paying attention so I dropped his leash. The poor kitten is running for her life and hissing as only felines can. Now I have take off at a mad dash to catch up to Mr. Bunny who has given chase. I barely caught him and that was only because he still had the leash trailing behind him. When I finally capture him and pick his protesting-ass up I'm winded and very embarrassed. My slightly tipsy across the street neighbor says in his thoroughly middle-class way "Look at that rabbit. It's like an attack rabbit!" At this point I'm trying not to make eye contact with anyone and pretending I don't hear the little girl asking her mom why Mr. Bunny was mean to "the baby kitty!" So now me and my attack bunny are hiding out. I'll take him for another walk this weekend but probably in the backyard or on another street.

Blah Tuesday

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right. Here I am, stuck in the middle with you! I watched Reservoir Dogs on Friday and I've been singing that song since then. I tried replacing it with my Whitney Houston Greatest Hits CD.. no luck. Usually Whitney will wipe out everyone else. Not this time. I need a new scrub song. I did replace it with Michael Jackson's PYT for about 2 hours on Sunday, but its back with a vengeance. So today I'm one of those people that hums a song and lets it spread like wildfire. I have already infected 3 additional people. It's worse than the Swine Flu I tell you! In fact after reading this, you'll probably hum it for a while. No need to thank me. It's my gift to you.
Saturday I went Outlet shopping and spent way too much money. Hopefully I won't need any new clothes for the next year. I guess I didn't spend any more than I would normally spend in a year of shopping the difference is that I spent it all in 1 day! I did find three beautiful dresses and now I must figure out which one I'll wear to Sarah's wedding on Saturday. One is a really pretty magenta colored sheath dress with a rounded collar. The second is a flirty spaghetti strap dress with a blue and white geometric design. The final dress is a black and white dress with an empire waist and floral design at the bottom. I've shown pictures to three different people and received three different opinions. Who am I kidding? I'm gonna wear the boob-tastic black and white dress with an empire waist. Gotta show the girls off while they still sit where I want them. I'm already 31 it won't be too long before they start moving south for warmer weather right? Anyway, I'll upload pictures of the three dresses either tonight or tomorrow.

Book Club Recap

Last night I met up with the ladies from my book club to discuss Kindred. Our meeting was good. Just the right amount of "critical thinking" and bull shit! We sit around drink wine and eat as we discuss each book. I took a bottle of Tizzy to the meeting and it was enjoyed by all. I really love my cheap wine! I really enjoy my book club because we have a good mix of women. I've been in other groups that were nice, but I definitely think this mix of women is one of the best.
I have been trying to figure out how I'm going to incorporate books into my blog. I've decided that I'll definitely start listing my current book club selections as well as my own reviews. I should try to find one of those "what I'm reading now" widgets also. This might take me a while because I'm not very tech savvy. Ever wonder why all my pictures are in the same spot with no real formatting? 'Cause that's the only way I know how to do it baby!
The next bookclub selection is One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I have been forewarned that this is a dense book to get through. I'm reserving judgement.

Hairwolf in NOLA

I'm still getting big reactions to my newly shorn hair. They range from flat out dislike to extreme love. The only common reaction is surprise. Oh, well I'm still loving it right now. Besides Louisiana is really hot in the summertime. I'm looking forward to having a cooler head this summer.
There is a situation in my building right now. My building has a security gate and bars on the window. Anyone who has been to visit can tell you,we are more secure than Fort Knox. Well one of the tenants is sub-letting his apartment for the summer. The girl keeps leaving the security door unlocked. The landlord sent everyone an email stressing the importance of locking the door. Great... situation handled...NO! The girl keeps doing it. Now we all know who is doing it yet everyone gets the email because the landlord doesn't want to "name names". Finally I get tired of getting the scolding emails so I catch the girl, Olga, as she is leaving the building without locking the door. I give her an earful on locking the gate so I don't get raped/stabbed and most importantly so i don't get anymore emails. Turns out she is German and doesn't speak English well. Not only that, she is doing some crazy neo-hippy thing where she doesn't use electronics unless she has to. No tv, no computer (email), no radio and no car! Bitch is riding a bike around town in New Orleans heat and humidity. I pray she is not on a hippy "no deodorant" kick. Cause if she starts stinking up the place, it's on! She promised to lock the door from now on.

The Big Chop

<<<<

After>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Well I did it. I chopped off the fro. I am now the proud owner of less
than an inch of hair. This is not the first time I've started over
with my hair. Probably won't be the last. I'm still getting used to
the loss of "big hair". The best thing about this cut is that it took
me 2 minutes to do my hair when I got out of the shower. Here's a
picture I took this morning to email to The Minister.

Doing it Big Weekend

My baby brother and his friend from undergrad flew into town this weekend. I mentioned previously that this was gonna be his "do it big!" weekend. Well we did it big. As I type this I have the remains of a hangover that started on Saturday morning before my brother even made it into town. Friday night I hung out with the Lakeview Critic and Ms. Bonnie. I stayed out later than I intended and had to finish up last minute preparations for my weekend guests. So Saturday morning was spent with a headache and queasy stomach.
Fast forward to 3:30pm on Saturday when I pick Baby Brother up at the airport. When he gets into the car I can smell the alcohol already. Apparently he had a very pleasant flight that included large amounts of alcohol. He makes me stop at a dauquiri shop on the way to my house. Now I could have just gotten him one and not myself, but noone wants to drink alone right? So we have the dauquiris and get him settled in. Then Kiff's (brother's friend) plane gets in so we head back to the airport. The two of them spend the next couple of hours talking over each other and drinking the delicious Firefly Rasberry Vodka and lemonade drinks I made. At this point I'm already feeling like I am down for the count and it is only 8:30pm. They walk around to the bar up the street and meet up with some of my brother's friends that he worked with when he lived in New Orleans. I wisely use this time to take a nap. The rest of that day is a little fuzzy but I know Alyson came to be our sober driver and took us to one of our favorite hangouts to meet up and have a drink (like we needed anymore) with friends. Not sure how the night went cause I woke up at home in my own bed on Sunday at 4 am. My brother tells me he carried me in.
We spent most of Sunday playing kickball and once again Baby Brother and Kiff drink like sharks!! An amusing sidenote is that Kiff likes to refer to himself in the third person when he drinks. He has spent the whole weekend drinking so he has spent the whole weekend in third person. For example when he was ready to stop drinking on Sunday he informed me by saying "The Kiff can't feel his face!" Ahh good times, good times. Today I am feeling every one of my 31 years. When I left them this morning at 8 am they were mixing up bloodymarys.

My Favorite Book

I'm doing something a little new today. I have always been a big reader. I have been in love with books and the written word since I was a child. Anyone who knows me well, is aware that books take up a lot of space in my apartment and my heart. I read everything! It is not unusual for me to be in a bad mood or even a good mood and be able to trace its origins to the most recent book I read. With that said, I realized that I don't mention books or my favorite authors at all on this blog. Funny that such a large part of my life is never mentioned on here. Well it is time to change that. I'm not sure if I'll add one of those "what I'm reading now" widgets or if I'll just do a regular post on books I like. I've decided to start by telling you all about my favorite book. This is the book I give to people I really like. This is the book I grabbed when evacuating for hurricane Katrina. I forgot the last picture I took with my deceased father here in New Orleans, but I took Kindred. I simply love this book. I've read and gifted this book too many times to count. In the event of fire I would grab, Kindred, Mr. Bunny and my laptop on my way out of the door. (See almost forgot the picture again. I would grab Kindred, Mr. Bunny, laptop, and picture of deceased father) I'm sure by now you understand how much I love it. Now let me tell you why.

The name of the book is Kindred by Octavia Butller. The novel is about a modern (1976) black woman named Dana. She is transported back in time to the slavery era South to save a little boy. This boy turns out to be her ancestor. She is summoned over and over again whenever he, Rufus, is in mortal danger. She must save him to ensure her own eventual existence. Each summoning has her stay longer and longer. Each time she returns her young charge is older and more a product of his time. The book really explores love, hate, race, obsession, cruelty, forgiveness and worst of all fear. The characters are really well developed and Butler is a master when it comes to world building. Reading this book will really give you an understanding of daily life on a plantation. The author doesn't make the slave master's overly cruel or villanous. Instead her point is made in small accepted every day cruelties that made up life in that time. It makes you wonder what choices you would make in a given situation. You see the young boy grow to become a man that still reminds you of the child that steals your heart and compassion at the beginning, while making you dread the man he has become. I don't know how to explain it. Every time I read this book I want to hate him so much, but I never do. I find myself feeling sad for him and the other characters. The author does a really good job of subtly demonstrating a kind of commonality between the so-called good characters and bad-characters.

I can't say enough about how much I love this book. I highly recommend you pick up a copy of this book.

Drama Rama

I have been without internet access the last couple of days. I just recently replaced my modem, and when I say recently I mean like last week! Well after all that my internet goes out again. I start moving my cords around and troubleshooting to see what the problem could be and low and behold the problem is Mr. Bunny. Somehow he snuck into the back room where I keep my modem and router. I usually keep this door closed for a couple of reasons, the first of which is that I never clean it! The other is because my desk in there has a lot of cords connected. I keep my printer and all the routers and modems for my internet access in there. Mr Bunny is a notorious cord chewer so I keep him out of there. Apparently I didn't do a good job cause he has managed to chew one of the Ethernet cords to my new modem. Seriously this little bunny has cost me so much in replaced cords over the years that I could buy ten bunnies. He knows better than to go into my backroom.
On a not so new note The Minister has taken up residence on "Crack Island". Our conversation started out so innocently. I complained about getting wet in the rain on my way to my car after church. She says something like you're not sugar you won't melt. I reply that I happen to be very sweet (occasionally). Here's where the conversation is hijacked. She informs me that she doesn't know that because she doesn't have a son-in-law or grandchild from me to tell her this! Crazy.. of course I fire back with Mr. Bunny and she points out that he can't call her and tell her so his testimony is null and void! The conversation went completely off track from there with me ending up threatening to bring her an illegitimate grandchild within the year. ( As a minister she is very much about the marriage then baby carriage) Apparently she is getting desperate because she doesn't miss a beat when she says "Bring 'em!!" It's not like she really needs another grandchild. Between my two brothers she has five grandchildren. Regardless, I am so not going out to get knocked up anytime soon. I can barely afford to keep me and Mr. Bunny in entrees what would I do with a kid? Ridiculous.

Nothing Special Going On

I meant to post last night but I had internet connection issues. Randomly my wireless internet stopped working late wednesday night/early thursday morning. When I made it into the lab yesterday morning I called Bellsouth to find out what the deal is. I was told there was network outage that should be fixed by noon. Well when I made it home around six the internet was still out. After much complaining and arguing with the phone company it was decided that the problem was not with the network, but with my modem. Luckily I had a back-up modem to use. The only problem is that once I exchanged modems, none of my internet setting worked. I couldn't get on the internet through the ethernet chord and I couldn't connect the modem to my wireless router. Long story short I spent most of last night drinking Tizzy and figuring out how to re-do all of my internet setting for the wireless router and dsl modem. So not fun!!! Now I can connect to the internet wirelessly, but I can't get my Mail account to receive or send mail. I can still get the emails on my iphone, so I'm not too stressed. Sometime this weekend I'll have to figure it out. If all else fails I'll have to call my friend's husband and see if he can help me.
I don't really have any big plans for this weekend aside from "Newbie Haze" on saturday. It is a very juvenile tradition on the Hangovers. We are taking the team newbies to our team bar and drinking and socializing with them all night. It wouldn't be so bad, but they don't get a chance to recover the next day because that is the day of the league social. Should be fun, but I'm way to old to stay out randomly drinking all night. I think I'll put in an appearance for a couple of hours then head home to my comfortable bed.

Why is the rum always gone?

So my baby brother (read-27 year old, deputy sheriff) is coming to visit me Memorial Day weekend. I'm excited for the visit because he is one of my favorite people. That doesn't mean that I don't do shit to him, but it is all done with love and a sincere need to see that pissed of look on his face occasionally. Anyway, in preparation for his trip, he mailed me a bottle of a rum. It was a brand I haven't tried so he was being nice enough to mail me a bottle. I did have strict instructions "Don't be tastin' it all up before he gets here". All of that is moot because when I go to pick it up, the package is damaged. I got a soggy box of glass. No fabulous new rum for me. Well my brother had insured the box. So he calls the post office in CA to tell them what happened and they asked him to show them the box. Hello? The box was mailed to LA!! Fools.
Enough about that. It is almost kickball season. That is part of the reason for Jason's visit. He joined my kickball team, The Hangovers, even though he no longer lives here in NOLA. Anyone living in our home town understands why. There really isn't a lot of entertainment there. So he is on the team and will be flying in to play in about 4 games during the course of the season. It will give us a chance to hang out and Do it Big!!! And noone does it big like us. Hopefully while he's here he will pack up and take the rest of his shit that has been taking up space in my apartment for the last year and a half!

OOPS!!!

Me and my big mouth caused a little family drama on Mother's Day. I didn't mean to, but there was major drama. It all started last Thursday night. Actually as I look at my text message list I see it was between 11:50pm on Thursday night and 12:10 am Friday morning. Anyone who knows me well, is well aware that I'm in bed by 9pm and asleep by 9:30pm most nights. So at almost midnight I've been asleep for hours and I'm talking good drooling on my pillow already kicked the covers off sleep. So here is the text conversation that took place.

Cousin M: Me n my bf got married.
Me: Congrats. Tonight?
Cousin M: Yesterday
Me:Wow. R U Happy?
Cousin M: Yes.... very. My mom isn't talking to me right now.
Me: She will get over it. Congrats

That was the complete conversation. I went back to sleep until it was time for me to get dressed the next morning. So of course on Friday morning as I'm taking a shower it comes back to me. I rush through my shower and immediately dig out my phone to review the text conversation. Yep my way too young cousin is married. She is just 19 years old and just finished her sophmore year in college. Somehow I forgot to mention it to anyone most of the weekend. Fast forward to Sunday, I'm chatting it up to The Minister and she mentions that she has to call all of her sisters to wish them a happy Mother's Day. I don't know why, but it just slipped out. "I hope Aunt P (Cousin M's mom) is talking to Cousin M again." Of course my mother is wondering why she wouldn't be talking to her. So then I let it all out about the marriage. In my defense, who would assume it was a secret if she is sending out informative texts to people. People who were drooling on their own pillow and minding their own business I might add! Now my mother being the honesty police calls my Aunt P to find out what the deal is. Wait I'm getting ahead of myself. First there is a ten minute conversation in which I promise never to get married without giving my Mother the opportunity to be there. Even if it turns out to be a *gasp* sigh* "city hall wedding". Then there was a 15 minute three-way call to my Aunt J. Aunt J prides herself on being at the forefront of all family gossip. During this conversation we were informed that "No she had no idea Cousin M was married and furthermore Aunt P didn't mention it when they spoke this morning!" The situation has clearly escalated to code red. As the two of them are getting worked up, I'm starting to get that little tingle in the back of my neck. You know the one that says in braille "You fucked up fool!" So I send a desperate text to Cousin M that goes something like. I hope your marriage wasn't suppose to be a secret cause I told my Mom and she's on a fact finding mission. By the time I get this text out The Minister is calling Aunt P. Well turns out Cousin M is at her mom's house for the summer.
Drama rama. Aunt P is all butt-hurt that her "only daughter" didn't include her in her wedding. Of course Aunt P forgets that she eloped once upon a time long ago. This sparks a three-way conversation between me, the Minister, and Aunt P. Mostly the Minister and Aunt P, I was just kind of hoping the conversation didn't swing back to me. I can't remember all that was said, but I do recall promising once again that upon threat of a painful "size 7.5 stilleto pump to the neck" I would never get married without giving the Minister every opportunity to be there. The conversation finally ended with my aunt tearfully expressing her pain at not being at "her only daughter's wedding" even if it was to a peanut headed boy that she didn't really like! and the Minister quoting scripture about the benefits of marriage. I tuned out when the convo swung around to planning a reception for the family to meet "this boy Cousin M married".
You can't write this kind of shit. How was I to know that an unsolicited text message in the middle of the night was supposed to be kept secret? Jeeze

Congrats on Managing Not to Get Knocked Up

I did the obligatory sappy Mother's Day post earlier today, but the more I thought about it the more I felt this was needed also. This post is for all my single/married/engaged sisters who managed to get through another year without getting knocked up. I have said it before and I'll say it again, "being baby-free is neither free nor accidental!" We don't have a cool day set aside to recognize and praise the fact that we have been responsible in our family planning choices. They don't send us cards for our efforts or write sonnets about us. Don't get me wrong, being a mother is an important and hopefully informed decision that is beautiful and worthy of praise. I just think that many people forget that the choice of not reproducing is worthy of praise as well. Mothers are the primary teachers in society. I just want to recognize that being childless doesn't negate our ability to impart knowledge and utility to society. Not that we will never reproduce, just that it will be on our own schedule and at a time we deem appropriate. So to all my sisters in the fight.... Happy Non-Mother's Day! You made it another year without getting knocked up!

Happy Mother's Day

I know I had a post about The Minister the other day, but today is Mother's Day. So you are just going to have to put up with another mommy post. So here is a short list of things my mother taught me either by words or deeds. For brevity I won't repeat what I put in my previous post.

• Always tell my children (right now this is Mr. Bunny) the truth, even if it is a truth you don't want to believe.


• How to pray and meditate to center myself when everything else is chaos


• My opinion does count


• I'm lovable even when I have a stank attitude


• Don't listen to people that don't count


• Mom and friend are not mutually exclusive


• Family is important, but not at the expense of happiness


• I have the right to be selfish occasionally

This is a really brief list. Hope it gets you all thinking about your own dear old mommy. Don't forget to call her today.

The Minister Has Spoken

I have needed to write this blog for a while. I think maybe I just now started putting this concept to good use, so it is time for me to put it out into the blogsphere. With Mother's Day coming up I decided to share one of the best pieces of advice ever given to me by "The Minister" (I like to call her Mommy!) So without further ado here it is....Don't listen to people that don't count! Only you can decide who counts and who doesn't so be choosy in your selection. There are some people that will spend 90% of their time trying to cause problems for other people. They will never change and when you aren't around for them to cause problems for they will cause problems for someone else. I have recently invested too much time and effort being pissed off at one such shit starter that happens to be a professor in my department. I don't delude myself into thinking I'm special to him. He has a shitload of people that he is talking shit about and stirring up trouble for. I called The Minister just the other day to complain about him. She quietly listened to me rant for about 20 minutes, then gave me her loving motherly advice.

"You stop all that belly-aching, do what you have to do to graduate and tell him to kiss your shiny black ass! You know asses like yours don't just come to be. I gave you that kiss worthy ass! Now get off of it and be happy!"

You gotta love it. If you ever met The Minister you would understand. My mother is 5'4" of sweet southern charm masquerading as a Californian. She always has a smile and blessing for everyone she meets, but if you push her she will "put the pump to you". I think I'm the only one that ever induces her to use the word ass. I love being her problem child. I'm sure some of you needed to hear this little jewel from my Mom just as much as me. Lets hear the best advice your Mom ever gave you.

I Have Another Follower

I'm excited that I now have 2 official followers. Not one but two... count 'em! Much like the Jeffersons I am "moving on up!" I have had my original and most loyal follower since the very beginning, Squeelet. Although Squeelet is ridiculously funny and witty she hasn't chosen to blog about it. When she does I'm sure it will interesting. Now the "Squeel Inducing One" is joined by Shanster. I have to confess that I was a lurker on her blog for a while before I ever started my own blog. If you get a chance check it out. Pretty funny goings on over there. Not that I'm not ecstatic about my increase in followers but I still want more. I feel official. I hesitate to say it, but I think I'm definitely moving into expert range. I'm talking real expert not internet expert. I have two official followers I must be an expert right? I do know that there are some lurkers out there. Keep coming back and eventually you'll get sucked in. Even if you don't become a follower definitely leave a comment.

Life's A Beach

I love coming to Jacksonville. Nothing noteworthy or funny has
happened. I went with my cousin to go see Obsessed. It was pretty
good. Although the much hyped fight scene only lasted about 2 minutes
at the end of the film. Last night we went to this really cool
festival called World Of Nations. There were booths set up for
different countries and you could buy food learn about each country.
They gave you a passport booklet when you first arrived then you could
get a stamp in your passport for each country you visited. I'm
enjoying this stolen vacation of mine. I left my laptop at home on
purpose because I didn't want to do anything school related. I typed
this whole post on my phone.

Time to Recharge

I'm excited about taking a long weekend starting tomorrow. I have been going through school stress for the past month. I called my cousin in Jacksonville, FL and asked if I could visit this weekend. Luckily they will be home this weekend. Sometimes nothing can ease your mind and relax/recharge you like family. It is worth it to me to make the 9hr drive just to spend some time with family members that aren't stressing me. So to make sure The White Knight was road ready I had to get a long overdue oil change. Since my truck is always messy and dirty it takes some pre-planning. The place that does the best job is close to my apartment and gives you a free carwash and vaccum. Sounds great except I always have to clean out the inside of my car first. Well I didn't feel like doing that so I went to one of those 5 min quick oil change places. Lucky me the guy who handles my car is a young K-Fed wanna be. He has blond hair braided into corn-rows and very bright blue eyes. When he talks to me he calls me "Sistah". It doesn't even offend me because I truly believe that is who he is right now. That doesn't mean that I don't find it extremely funny. I changed my mind, he is not a K-Fed wanna be. He's Gin Rummy from the Boondocks cartoon.(sidenote... I love that cartoon and hope they hurry up and release season 3). I'm taking a bottle of Firefly Lemon Tea Vodka with me. I have been hooked on the Sweet Tea Vodka for awhile, but I think the lemon is better.

I'm an Internet Expert Bunny Wrangler

An expert is someone widely recognized as a reliable source of technique or skill whose faculty for judging or deciding rightly, justly, or wisely is accorded authority and status by their peers or the public in a specific well distinguished domain. An expert can be, by virtue of training, education, profession, publication or experience, believed to have special knowledge of a subject beyond that of the average person, sufficient that others may officially (and legally) rely upon the individual's opinion.  This is how wiki defines the term expert. 

You may be wondering where I'm going with this. Here it is. Have you ever noticed that on the internet everyone is an expert.  Apparently all you have to really be skilled at is creating a web page or blog and you too can be an expert.  What kind of certification or training is required to be an expert?  In the real world you need a long list of bonafides to be considered and expert and even then there are levels of expertise. Not so on the internet. If you can spell it and put it on the internet you are set.  You are ready to declare your expertise and display the proper amount of indignation if someone should dare to question you.  Especially when the "internet expert" decides to list their qualifications and they have nothing to do with the what they claim to be an expert in.  Doesn't make any sense. It wouldn't be so funny to me if I didn't know that these so called experts are dead serious.  I find it extremely hard to contain my hilarity when I know the real person doesn't match up to the internet persona they have created. Normally I try to avoid even the hint of being called an expert. Experts are always on "essential personnel" lists and have to stay in town during hurricane evacuations. Not for me. Mr Bunny and I head for higher ground at the first sign of bad weather. The more I think about it the more I'm convinced I am an internet expert.  I mean come on, I have a blog and a twitter damn it! I think I'll have t-shirts made to declare my expertise in a shitload of things.  I'll pick my expertise by whichever shirt is clean that day.  As long as I make sure to qualify my level of expertise as "internet expert" I can be an expert in anything.  I think my first shirt will be "Internet Expert in Bunny Wrangling".  Hell my friend Red Feather is an internet expert abalone harvester and an expert sea monkey grower.  Forgive me internet expert sea monkey grower.  So ladies and gents, what are you an expert in?

Hair Issues

I'm kicking around the option of getting a drastic haircut.  I'm talking chopping off the huge puff ball of hair and going with a teeny weeny afro.  I've done it before.  I think my hair is not that healthy right now so why not chop most of it off and start over?  I don't want to go as extreme as I did the first time I went  for the big chop.  My mom still has nightmares about that one. She sent me to college  with below shoulder length straight hair and I came back first semester with 2 inches of afro and nothing else. Ahh good times, good times. Now if I so much as mention getting a trim she gets a little heart murmur and breaks out in a cold sweat.  Occasionally I bring up a hair cut when I want to throw her off the scent of something else. What? You say a man answered the phone when you called me at 6am? Did I mention I was thinking of getting a haircut.  How do you feel about the Grace Jones or Sinead O'Connor look?  Works everytime.  I think this time I might wait till  the healthy hair is longer than 2 inches before I chop. If I wait though I do run the risk of having ridiculous split  ends that go on forever.  I've had big hair for so long I'm not completely sure I can function again with a minimal amount of hair.  Short hair is definitely easier to take care of.  Pretty much wash and go. Decisions decisions!

My Biological Clock

So once you reach a certain age everyone feels they have the right to question you about when you will procreate. Or in my case get married then procreate. I personally don't see what the fascination with my biological clock is. I recently had a conversation with one of my aunts where she grilled me on when I was gonna get married and start making babies. Of course she pointed out with great love and affection that I'm getting older everyday and my eggs won't be good for anything in a few years. WTF? My eggs are champs. They are the gold-standard of baby makers! I love it when my friends have planned and sometimes unplanned pregnancies. I love to play with and spoil their kids then go home to my own home that is childless. There is a reason I have a pet that doesn't say shit!! Mr. Bunny doesn't bark, meow or crow. I love it. Also my choice to be baby free is not free. I pay good money every year to remain so. The pill aint cheap! So me being baby free is neither free nor by accident. So from now on whenever anyone starts asking me about my biological clock I'm gonna say. My biological clock is digital, bitch. It don't tick!

I'm Playing Hooky

I should be working on my paper today, I think I'm taking a mental
health day. I will be at home deep conditioning my hair, painting my
toenails, wearing a face mask and watching a Firefly marathon. I've
been a reasonably good girl for a while. I deserve a break.

And They're Off

My day at the races on Sunday was alot of fun. I learned that I have
absolutely no idea how to play the ponies. All of the ladies from my
Mardi Gras Krewe cleaned up nicely. The buffet at the fairgrounds left
alot to be desired. I would have preferred to order something from the
menu. Those entrées looked delicious. Look how tiny the jockey is. I
decided against decorating my hat. It was huge. I kept bumping into
things and people with it.

Texting

I have this man-friend (make of that what you will), that insists on sending a million texts a day.  I personally think it makes more sense to just have a conversation. Hell for all the time he spends texting he could drive over and have a face to face conversation.  I don't get it.  Sometimes (read: when I'm tipsy) a good text/flirting session is beneficial, but not everyday.  I think it has become a disturbing trend among the males of today.  I once had a guy try to wimp out and ask without asking for a date through a text message.  I don't play that shit.  So I texted back sure I would meet him at happy hour.  Then I promptly invited some other friends.  When he was surprised to see other people show up I made sure to mention that I didn't think he would mind me inviting others sense it wasn't a date or anything formal.  I mean he did ask me via text, right?  He got the hint.  It seems like my current friend might need a push as well.  Maybe he's one of those people that uses a cell as his only phone and he has more text messages in his plan than minutes.  I don't know.  I do know I'm tired of fast furious texting.  I love texting in general, but enough is enough.  There is a time and a place for texting.  For instance, during Tuesday seminars at school.  There is no better time to text and catch up on my twitter account and return emails.  If I didn't do this I would probably end up in a catatonic state.  And a couple of my fellow grad students that I text during this time might follow me down that path.  They might not comment on this, but they know who they are.  Without a well-timed and totally inappropriate text from me during seminar hours none of us would make it.   Arginase II will make hair grow on your chest!  Need I say more?

Fat Necked Girl, Let Me Count Your Neck Rings

I need a hat.  Not just any hat I need a large go to the Kentucky Derby hat.  I am not going to the Derby, but I am heading to the fairgrounds here in New Orleans.  This should be big fun.  I'm getting together with my Muses float members on Sunday.  The fourth race of the day will be named for us and we have a reserved party room and buffet.  It's been a while since I played the ponies.  I'm excited.  I already have my dress picked out and matching shoes now I need the hat.  I was supposed to have gottten the hat 2 weeks ago and decorated it.  I have to do it all tomorrow.  My dress is pretty cute.  The print is zebra stripe but in brown and khaki or brown and cream.  So it looks more safari than zebra.  I like it.  I'll keep you posted on how it comes out.

In a totally unrelated but mad funny topic. I watched 30 Rock last night and heard my new most favorite song lyric ever.  Tracey Morgan sang it last night. It went something like this "Fat necked girl, let me count your neck rings!"  OMG I choked because I was laughing so hard.  So that has been in my head all day today.  On the way to the cafeteria I was behind a man with sausage rolls behind his head that made me convulse in giggles once again.  Ahh.. this week has been very crappy but these two things brightened my day considerably.  So when you find yourself having a hard time or horrendus day and need a little pick me up.  Quietly hum "fat necked girl, let me count your neck rings" and I guarantee you will feel better.  Another tactic is to watch people interacting in public and imagine them singing that to each other.  I'm giggling as I write this.

Aint That Some Shit!!

So I found out today some really upsetting stuff.  I'm not going to go into too much detail to protect the innocent and the not so innocent.  I found out that a situation that has caused me considerable angst should not have been.  I went through the gamut of emotions today.  I started with relief that I wasn't totally to blame and quickly progressed  to righteous indignation followed by extreme anger.  I want to yell and scream. But mostly I want to hand out some much deserved beat downs.  I mean you stole something from my mama and you kicked Mr. Bunny!   type of beat downs. (For future reference both of these things WILL earn you pauper princess beatdown.) I digress. So with all of this said all that comes to mind about my current situation is "Aint that some shit!!"  No even better, "aint that some hot shit on a stick". Holla

Sassy Much?

I'm feeling kind of sassy today. Not sure why, but I'm going with it.
Today we took a prospective grad student to lunch. She seemed so
excited and "fresh" comes to mind. Of course that would make me
"stale" and I'm not ready to claim that. Seriously though I wanted to
tell her to run not walk to dental school instead. Dentists are far
better paid than scientists or even m.d's. Besides the new car smell
of graduate school has long since turned into old sneaker funk.

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone. My day was nothing special. Went to
school. Seminar was boring. If they weren't mandatory I would never
go. I know I completely failed at blogging everyday this month,but for
what it's worth I'm back.

Hanging with Tizzy

Tonight is definitely a Tizzy night.  Not supposed to mix antibiotics and alcohol but I'm sure it will be fine.  So if anyone was to ask me about my plans for tonight I would reply"Hanging with Tizzy".

Tags: Tizzy, Random

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Situational Ebonics Part II

I got some emails about yesterday's post.  So first I'm ridiculously excited that more people than I thought read this blog.  Yay... The emails ranged from agreement because they had experienced this to questions from a couple of friends  about whether I was talking about them.  To set the record straight.  Any one of my friends that I spend time with would know if I felt they used situational ebonics.  I call my friends on it because I don't want to be annoyed everytime I hang out with them.  So if you know I consider you a friend and I haven't called you on it then more than likely I haven't noticed you changing your speech around me.  If you are a friend and I have called you on it, then know that I did it because I value your friendship and have taken steps to ensure we remain friends for a long time.  I didn't want to give the impression that I don't want anyone to say "Hey Girl or Girlfriend" around me.  I don't object to the phrases themselves.  I know plenty of people who use these phrases and it doesn't bother me.  What I find offensive is when I know someone is just using these phrases around me or another black person. Stop it.  Just be beautifully you.  I have a friend who addresses her girlfriends as "Sister".  She is not black and it doesn't offend me because she says it to all females that she feels friendship or sisterhood with regardless of race.   I respect that.  A friend taught me how to say hello in Mandarin.  Now I regularly greet the people in my lab with that phrase regardless of race.  I don't just bust it out when I'm around Chinese people.  I found a funny website that is almost too perfect for this topic.  Enjoy. I did get a couple of emails from people who thought I was being too sensitive.  Perhaps I was, but this is the pauper princess blog and I am The Princess!! hahahahahaha Just kidding.  No I wasn't.  Keep them coming.  I would really like it if more people left comments.  I'm still a little new to the blogging game so emails from unknown sources might not get opened.  Yesterday's post was the first to inspire emails so I didn't expect them and almost didn't open them because they were sent to my junk mail.  I have to change my filter to add emails from the blog to go to my inbox.

Tags: Race, Rants

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Situational Ebonics

Why is it that some not all caucasian people feel the need to change their speech when speaking to me?  I'm not naming names but it really irks me.  I know they don't mean to be offensive, but really.  You just met me and your greeting is "Hey Girl".  What kind of fuckery is this? Because I'm black I'm supposed to appreciate you speaking to me in my language?  I don't use girl or girlfriend in my everyday speech.  What really gets me steamed is that they think this is supposed to show me how cool and pro-black they are.  It would be different if this was how they spoke all the time to everyone, but that isn't the case.  The truly enlightened are who they are no matter who they are around. 

Tags: Random, Rants

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I'm trying something new. This post is being sent from my phone. Ahh
the wonders of new technology. Next time I'll try to include a
picture. Still not feeling so hot.

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