More Stolen Merchandise

I'll write about my B-Day later (maybe tomorrow)... I'm still shaking my head in disbelief! In the meantime, I am stealing again....
1. 4th grade teacher's name: Mrs. Topping

2. Last words you said to your mom: It's okay to go now. I'm here and I love you.

3. Last song you sang: "Get Me Bodied" by Beyonce

4. Last person you hugged: Nikki

5. Last thing you laughed at: Melissa's blog

6. Last time you said I love you and meant it: yesterday to my friend Kelly

7. Last time you cried: when I saw "When the Levees Broke" last weekend

8. What color socks are you wearing: none. I'm in the bed

9. What's under your bed: nothing, my bed is level with the floor

10. What time did you wake up today: 8:30 a.m.

11. Current Taste: Cap'n Crunch

12. Current hair: ponytail

13. Current annoyance: the fact that I don't have any fabulous plans for such a beautiful day

14. Current bad habit: being bossy

15. Current longing: the picture of me and Beyonce that the DJ took yesterday and love

16. Current desktop background: Vegas skyline

17. Met/Talked to any hot girls/guys lately: Met and talked to Beyonce yesterday

18. If you could play any instrument: the piano

19. Favorite color(s): red, brown, yellow, orange

20. How tall are you: 6'0"

21. Current favorite word/saying: bitch queen

22. Favorite book: nothing right now

23. Favorite season: fall

24. Favorite article of clothing: this grey tshirt that I have

25. Favorite age: now isn't quite so bad

26. What is your career going to be like: hopefully short and lucrative

27. How many kids do you want: 2

*HAVE YOU EVER...*

28. Said "I love you": yes

29. Gotten in a fight with your dog/cat/bird/fish: no. Stone knows better.

30. Been to New York: yes, work there

31. Been to the Bahamas: no

32. Been to California: yes

33. Been to Hawaii: recently

34. Been to Bermuda: yes, when I was 13

35. Been to China: no

36: Been to Ireland?: no

37. Dreamed something really crazy and then it happened the next day: unfortunately, yes

38. Fallen in love with a friend? yes

39. Gotten into a fight? (smile) not too long ago

40. Stolen anything? yes

41. Gotten married? almost....

42. Do you have a crush on someone: if by crush you mean I have feelings for someone that I am not in a relationship with, then yes

43. What book are you reading now?: Judge and Jury by James Patterson and Andrew Cross

44. What is the first thing you think when you wake up in the morning? it's too damn early

45. How many rings before you answer: usually like 2

46. Future daughter's names: I'm not sharing

47. Future son's names: My husband's name

48. What do you sleep with: my dog

49. What do you do before you go to sleep? Wrap up my hair and set my alarm clock

50. What do you wear to sleep in: shorts and a tank top

51. Where are you: at my desk in my bedroom

52. Where do you wish you were: somewhere else

53. Piercings: just my ears

*THE EXTRA STUFF*

54. What kind of Shampoo and Conditioner do you use?: currently Mizani

55. Who is the last person that called you: a bill collector

56. Where do you want to have your honeymoon? Bora Bora

57. If you could change anything about yourself, what would it be? I'd be thinner

58. Hate: hate, pettiness, liars, being broke

59. Been In Love: yes

60. Are you timely or always late: usually timely

61. Do you have a job: yes

62. Do you like being around people: depends on the people

63. Best feeling in the world: that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when the man tht you love smiles at you across the room

64. Miss someone right now?: yes

65. Are you a health freak: hahahahahahahahaha... sorry, no

66. Do you have a "Type" of person you always go after: not anymore

67. Are you lonely right now: yes

68. Do you want kids: yes

*THE LAST 48 HOURS, HAVE YOU...*

69. Cried: no

70. Bought something: food

71. Gotten sick: no

72. Sang: yes. I was singing all day yesterday

73. Said I love You: yes

74. Wanted to tell someone you loved them: yes

75. Moved On: working on it

76. Talked to someone: yes

77. Had a serious talk: no

78. Missed someone: didn't I just answer this?

79. Hugged someone: yes

80. Yelled at someone: yes - this dumb ass lady was trying to... never mind, but she had it coming,

81. Dreamed about someone you can't be with: yes

82. Fallen down: yes

83. Seen a movie: no

84. Talked on the phone: yes

85. Had sex: HA! no sadly not.

BEYONCE!!!!!!!!!!

 
 
 
  

Okay, clearly I am bored out of my mind. I have posted three times in the past 10 hours, and I still have 37 more minutes before I can blow this joint. However, I couldn't let this happen without telling you guys about it (it is starting to sound less funny by the minute, however).

So I am sitting in my office (with the door open because when I close it, I am told that I am sending the "inappropriate message to the staff"). I am finishing the last few pages of "The Devil Wears Prada" (and no, that is not the latest pharmacy journal, for those of you who track my every move!), and I hear this HORRIBLE noise coming from the hallway. As I roll my chair towards the door and over the threshold (no, I just couldn't bear to actually get my ass out of the chair), the noise is getting louder. When I finally reach the hallway, I see this Asian woman (one of the pharmacists) sitting at the computer (yes, the one in the hall that my Chinese compadre suggested I use instead of hers), and she is singing (opera style) "One Moment in Time." I'm talking Whitney Houston, before the crack pipe, balls out, top of her lungs, crooning, "There in that moment of time, it will be, it will beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eternity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" WHAT? It is so time for me to go.

And as a sidebar, I got busted this morning going up on the elevator. It stopped on the second floor (I work on the third), and the doors opened just as I was getting DEEP into my "uh oh" dance rehearsal for Friday's meeting with Beyonce. The nurse who got on the elevator looked absolutely APPALLED, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud. SIGH... the ways we amuse ourselves at work :)

Preacher Man

Oh my goodness! My friend Jen just IM'd me from Los Angeles. She went to church yesterday, and she was telling me that the preacher seemed to be speaking about a certain young man she has been dating. The preacher said (and I quote): "If you are always dating the same type of woman and it isn't working, maybe you should change to a different type. Like if your woman is a control freak, but she is more control than freak, then you need to let her go and find someone else." WHAT????? Can you say that from the pulpit? And if Stacie is reading this... Freak-a-Leak just came on the radio: "MO-NEEK!!!!!!!" YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dude... A Stingray??

Okay, I realize that there is nothing really funny about Steve Irwin dying this morning, but come on, a STINGRAY? Who gets stung by a stingray in the HEART??? This guy is up here wrestling alligators, sneaking up on animals that I can't even pronounce their names, and he gets stung in the heart by a stingray while filming a special in Australia? Man, comedy can be found in the strangesdt places. R.I.P. Crocodile Hunter.

RING THE ALARM!!!!!!

Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Sorry, but I am in this weird state of crazed, overwhelming, all-encompassing, slightly orgasmic excitement right now. Why, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

Last night I was at my house in Jersey City giving my dog a bath (after the unintentional one we got when I tried to walk him in Tropical Storm Ernesto). They started playing all of these Beyonce songs on Power 105 and I heard a commercial about winning something... blah, blah, blah.... Friday, blah, blah, blah.... BEYONCE. STOP THE PRESSES. I turned the water off, left the dog in the bathtub, and ran to my room to turn up the radio. They were saying to call in to win, so I frantically pick up my cell phone and my house phone and start dialing 1-800-585-1051. After about a million busy signals and a couple of false alarms where it rung but no one ever picked up, I realized that I was not going to win whatever "it" was that had to do with Beyonce. So I despondently go back to washing my very bewildered dog (who was sitting in my bathtub looking at me like I was the worst owner in the world). Mind you, I don't even know what I have lost, but I know that it had to do with Beyonce, and that in itself had to be a bummer.

Fast forward to 8:30 p.m. I am just getting ready to turn the radio off and go back to reading "The Devil Wears Prada" (fabulous read, by the way) when I heard DJ Whoever She Is (hereafter known as DJ WSI) say that she was going to play the sounder again before the 9:00 hour. Again, I had no idea what I was calling for, but it had to be good if it was about Beyonce, right? So at 8:45 p.m. she played the sounder, and I snatched up my two phones again. Buh-buh-buh-buh-buhhhh (busy signal). Ring ring ring, "Number 100." Click. What the hell does that mean? Was I caller 100? So I dialed on my cell phone one more time and that's when I heard the magic words, "Power 105, who's this?"
Me: Uh, Monique?
DJ WSI: Where are you calling from?
Me: Uh, Jersey City?
DJ WSI: Well did you know that Beyonce has a birthday coming up on Monday?
Me: Um, yes...
DJ WSI: Well how would you like to meet her on Friday at Planet Hollywood, blah blah blah blah.....
Me: AIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!! NO WAY!!! I am going to die!! I love Beyonce! Thank you so much! Thank you!!
DJ WSI: Don't die, then you won't get to meet Beyonce on Friday! Go Monique, it's your birthday (well it's not really your birthday), you're gon' party like it's your birthday!!!

And that's when I lost touch with reality and started singing (AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS), "Ring the alarm! I've been at this too long!! And I'll be damn if I see another chick on your arm!!" WHAT????? So after I was on hold for a while and got to hear how truly ridiculous I sounded on the radio (I have discovered since then that they are playing my call as that one really excited winner at least every hour!), DJ WSI got all of my information and told me that the Promotions Department would call me on Tuesday with the details of my prize. I haven't stopped dancing since. I proceeded to play every Beyonce song that I have on my ipod and dance around my house to the point where the neighbors started banging on the ceiling. I called everyone I knew (but NO ONE was answering the phone!) and leaving these insane voicemail messages. Finally I managed to get PYT who drummed up at least a little excitement for me (thanks, man.

Well, boys and girls, your blogger pal Monique is going to get her dream.... I AM GOING TO MEET BEYONCE ON FRIDAY!!!!!! So if you never hear from me again, it's because I died in Times Square, but please believe that it was with a glad heart :)

Oh So Pretty....

I look pretty.

Okay, for those of you who know me, you are probably scratching your heads and thinking to yourself, "Somthing must be wrong. Monique NEVER says she looks pretty. As a matter of fact, every time she even HEARS the word 'pretty,' she goes and finds her brightest red and white shirt and breaks out in the Sweetheart Song!" (you got THAT right!)

But today, I am sort of in shock: I really do look pretty. I got my hair done yesterday, and my stylist convinced me to let her set my hair on these weird twisty, bended rod-like contraptions. She swore that I would come out with these bautiful curls all over my head. "Now Tina, are you sure that my hair isn't too short for that?" She said no. "Tina, are you certain that I won't look like a Q-Tip?" She sighed, but stuck with no. "Okay Tina, are you absolutely POSITIVE that I won't look like I have a giant frizball on my head?" She then just pushed me down in the chair and turned on the water. When my hair was FINALLY finished drying (three hours later) and all the weird twisty things were out, I was about to cry. I looked like the posterchild for why white girls get their hair thermally straightened. Too many curls, too much head, not enough confidence. But she just kept saying in this incredibly soothing voice that the curls will fall and it will be beautiful. And (wonder of all wonders), she was right! I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror (okay, I just spent ten minutes looking at my hair from every conceivable angle... sheesh, guys!), and I think that I actually do look pretty. Not stunning, not beautiful, but pretty... and actually kinda New York fly. So in a few minutes when I am walking briskly down 5th Avenue toward the subway at Union Square in my cute little denim trench coat (yes, guys... it's CHILLY here today!), I think I might actually feel like I belong here...

I LOOK PRETTY :)

I usually NEVER have this much to talk about in a 24-hour period of time, but I was surfing the Net on company time (SURPRISE), and I found this story: http://news.yahoo.com/s/eo/20060823/en_tv_eo/19833 To summarize, the new season of Survivor will segregate its contestants based on race. There will be four groups: Asians, African Americans, Hispanics, and whites. Now, I might be the last person ib the world to read this story, but it really rubbed me the wrong way. Does anyone else feel just a little exploited by a network television show segregating its participants for all the world to see? Inquiring minds want to know...

And along those same lines, why did my chief resident say to me the other day (with a perfectly straight face) that she is afraid of Black people? WHAT? Did she not realize that I am one of those people? And more importantly, is it EVER appropriate to make a statement that you are afraid of an entire race of people? Granted she is from Latvia, and she really doesn't seem to have a good grasp on what is and is not appropriate in our culture, but still.... "I am afraid of Black people?" Riiiiiight. One time she even said that a patient was so black that he was "almost blue," and that she had never seen anyone so dark before. Again, WHAT???

Kleptomania

I am getting to be a bit of a kleptomaniac, but I have found yet another post on soemone else's blog that I wish to emulate (I prefer to say "emulate" because it sounds better thbn "steal!").

Grub-ology:
* What is your salad dressing of choice?
Sundried tomato or raspberry vinaigrette

* What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Popeyes or McDonalds

* What is your favorite sit down restaurant?
Ruth Chris

* On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant?
Either ten or twenty percent (I'm too lazy to figure out the in between!)

* What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Rice

* Name three foods you detest above all others.
Liver, brussel sprouts, beets

* What is your favorite dish to order in a Chinese restaurant?
Spring rolls

* What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Pepperoni, extra cheese, mushrooms, black olives, banana peppers, green peppers

* What do you like to put on your toast?
Butter and blackberry jam

* What is your favorite type of gum?
Orbitz (the blue package)

Tech-ology:
* Number of contacts in your cell phone?
Maybe 50

* Number of contacts in your e-mail address book?
Umm... I'd have to count, but probably a lot because gmail automatically adds people whenever you send them a message

* What is your wallpaper on your computer?
A picture of me and my mom

* What is your screensaver on your computer?
Same

* Are there naked pictures saved on your computer?
No

* How many land line phones do you have in your house?
One

* How many televisions are in your house?
Two

* What kitchen appliance do you use the least?
Coffee maker

* What is the format of the radio station you listen to the most?
R&B and hip-hop

Bi-ology:
* What do you consider to be your best physical attribute?
My height

* Are you right handed or left handed?
Right

* Do you like your smile?
Um, I guess so... sometimes I think it's a little big

* Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Fat

* Would you like to?
have more fat removed? Absolutely

* Do you prefer to read when you go to the bathroom?
Depends on how long I'm in there.

* Which of your five senses do you think is keenest?
Smell, definitely smell.

* When was the last time you had a cavity?
I have two now, just too chicken to get those bad boys taken care of!

* What is the heaviest item you lift regularly?
My dog

* Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
No

Misc-ology:
* If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
No, because then I would drive myself crazy trying to do everything before the day came.

* If you could change your first name, what would you change it to?
I wouldn't change it, I guess.... any other female names I could think of I'm saving for my daughter(s)

* How do you express your artistic side?
I write

* What color do you think you look best in?
Brown or black

* How long do you think you could last in a medium security prison?
A few hours

* Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake?
Now THAT is funny..... yes, I have

* If we weren't bound by society's conventions, do you have a relative you would make a pass at?
No, I used to have a crush on an older cousin, but now I realize that he's an ass

* How often do you go to church?
Lately, I have tried to go every weekend (when I have Sunday off).

* Have you ever saved someone's life?
If I have, I don't know about it

* Has someone ever saved yours?
With his words, absolutely

Dare-ology:
For this last section, if you would do it for less or more money, indicate how much.
* Would you walk naked for a half mile down a public street for $100,000?
Are you kidding? In my current financial situation, I would probably walk naked through Times Square for $100,000

* Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
No, but I would consider it strongly for more money

* Would you have sex with a member of the same sex for $10,000?
$10,000 is a lot of money, but no

* Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
Hell no

* Would you never blog again for $50,000?
Sheeeeeeeit.... a blog? Who needs it?

* Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
In a heartbeat, but that probably would be the last issue of that particular magazine :(

* Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
Yes - Fear Factor style

* Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
Without fear of punishment in this life or a later one? No, probably not

* Would you shave your head and get your entire body waxed for $5,000?
Make it $10,000, and yes.

* Would you give up watching television for a year for $25,000?
Absolutely. I would just work more.

Sucker Punched

I have a question for you guys out there in blogland... please let me know what you think. Why is it that when you finally hear something out loud that you always knew to be true, it hurts so bad? You know, like when you assume that something is happening, but you can't prove it because nobody has said it out loud.... and then you finally get verbal confirmation. I feel like I just got sucker punched. If it makes sense to you without the details, tell me what you think...

Showing My Age Again

Someone tells me often that I am always saying things to give away my age.... but when I saw this on Russatta's blog, I couldn't resist. I can't help but look back and take yall with me, so here we go....

Ten years ago, it was August 6, 1996. What a difference a decade makes.

How old were you?
Then: 18
Now: 28

Where did you work?
Then: At the Pentagon as an intern in my mom's office... doing something with hiring faculty members from HBCU's to work for the government.
Now: I'm a pharmacist at Beth Israel Medical Center in New York

Where did you live?
Then: Arlington, Virginia during the week and Newport News, Virginia on the weekends
Now: Jersey City, New Jersey

How was your hairstyle?
Then: Mid-back press and curl - that was before the relaxers took hold and I got scissor happy!
Now: Hmm... shoulder length curls.

Did you wear contacts?
Then: No - my mom thought it was ridiculous to have contacts when you could just wear glasses.
Now: Absolutely - I am blind as a bat without them!

Did you wear glasses?
Then: All the time - did I mention that I was blind?
Now: I am supposed to wear them at night instead of glasses, but I am really bad about that. I wear them when I am running crazy late or when a friend says, "You should wear your glasses - you look cute in them!"

Which of your pets was still alive?
Then: I didn't have pets then.
Now: My beloved Stone - he's a pit bull :)

Who was your boyfriend?
Then: I was just starting to date this guy named Rob.
Now: Don't you read my blog? I am so painfully single.

Who was your celebrity crush?
Then: Who knows? It could have been just about anyone - I've always been starstruck.
Now: Hmm... LL Cool J, Dwyane Wade, Jay Z, Boris Kodjoe, and my one girl crush, Beyonce

How many piercings did you have?
Then: None.
Now: One in each ear. Had one in my navel, but I let it close.

How many tattoos did you have?
Then: None.
Now: One at the small of my back of a butterfly.

Who was you favorite singer/band?
Then: I have no idea - that was TEN YEARS AGO!!!!
Now: I like a lot of people - Beyonce for a little female R&B, Anthony Hamilton for when I want to hear a man's woes, Jay Z when I want some hip hop that still makes me feel good, and a little metal for when I feel like quitting my job

Had you smoked a cigarette?
Then: No.
Now: I smoked a few Black and Mild's after college.... that lasted all of a minute and a half.

Had you gotten drunk?
Then: Had never had a drink at that point - mom's didn't play that!
Now: I have been drunk one time, and it was terrible. The rest of the time, I was pleasantly intoxicated :)

What kind of car did you drive?
Then: I'm sorry, did you say CAR? Yeah, right. I rode in whatever my mom was driving.
Now: A 2002 Saturn.

Looking back, are you where you thought you would be in 2006?
Then: Sadly, no. I thought I woukd be a docor, and I definitely didn't think I would ever be in New York. My, how things change....

I'll take this opportunity to make a few predictions for August 5, 2016.

Age: 38
Job: I have no idea, but hopefully it will be something I enjoy.
Location: Anywhere beautiful.
Hairstyle: No telling - hopefully the Dominicans will be able to get it to grow!
Family: Married (please, God!) with at least one child.
Contacts/Glasses: At the rate my vision is deteriorating, that's probably the only option I'll have left!
Pets: Hopefully I will still have Stone!
Boyfriend: Hopefully I'll be done with those.
Celebrity Crush: My husband?????
Piercings/Tattoos: Same, maybe a new tattoo some place inconspicuous.
Favorite Artist/Band/Singer: Wonder what kind of music they'll be playing then?
Home: A 2-3 bedroom house with a yard and some land.
Accomplishments: Finding a job that I love and am good at and a husband who loves God and me.
Volunteer work: Tutoring.
My Ride: A Mercedes CLS.
Drinking: At dinner parties that I host with my husband in our beautiful home and at my co-workers fabulous summer homes :)

When Keeping It Real Gets Expensive

New York City is an expensive place to live. Expensive to eat, expensive to drive, expensive to go out, but most of all, it is expensive to get your hair done. Now I know all you ladies out there are prbably saying, "Girl, go to the Dominicans! They can hook up a roller set for $25!" Well, my hair is too short for a roller set right now (or at least one that will look halfway decent), so I am stuck with going to my friend's stylist (who is actually quite good, just very expensive by VA standards). After getting my second paycheck of the new job, I have come to a very disturbing realization: I cannot afford to keep my hair up here the way I did at home (weekly trips to the salon with healthy tips for good service). So I have decided that I will have to work in monthly trips back to VA where I know I can get exactly what I want while simultaneously leaving with enough money to eat and put gas in my car. In the meantime, I have decided that keeping the real hair is just too much trouble, and I have been wearing wigs that my stylist at home made for me before I left. Of course everyone at work (all the white people and various people of Western European lineage) thinks that it is just "so cool the way that your hair curls up like that!!!" (like in the graduation picture from a previous blog). I guess only I know that my own hair is nestled comfortably underneath in a tight wrap :) So this morning, I switched it up and went straight. Oh Lord, why did I do that? "Oh my God!! How do you get your hair so straight?" "Oh Monique, I just love the blonde on top - you look kinda like... what's that rap girl.... Keshia Knight Pulliam?" (no, Becky. Her name is Keyshia Cole, if you must know). Or I also got, "Oooh... your hair is just so...." and then she made this gesture with her hand that I guess was supposed to mean "wow" or "ooh, ahh." SIGH.... when keeping it real gets expensive, sometimes you have to take one for the team (here's the hair from today).

Oh No She Didn't!!!

This post comes complements of Jameil who requested (at her own peril, I'm afraid) that I keep yall up to date on the NATO meetings that take place in my office every weekday from 7:30 to 6:00 p.m. Okay.... so there are now four residents (one decided, for whatever reason, to arrive two weeks late). We are all crammed into this little ass office with no windows. Originally there were only three desks, so when the carpenter came to make the fourth desk, he made it EXTRA big. Now I've probably mentioned this before, but I am an extra big (extra TALL, not extra fat, in case you were snickering behind your hand!) chick. So when I saw the opportunity for the big desk, I snatched it. The down side (which I didn't realize until I had moved all of my things) is that there is no phone jack or computer connection on that side of the room (I know, I know: God doesn't like ugly!). So I have to wait an indeterminant period of time to get both of those extremely important pieces of technology. That's probably just what I get for getting all greedy and eager beaver with the big shit, but hey! It's that damn only child syndrome rearing its ugly head again.
Because of the computer and phone shortages, we are supposed to take turns with their uses so that everyone could get their responsibilities taken care of. So this morning I had to write some reports for an 11:00 meeting. Not check my email, not cath up on yall's AMAZINGLY HYSTERICAL lives via blogland, but to ACTUALLY do what they are paying me for. Don't you know that the Chinese one says to me: "No, you need to use the computer in the hall. I have something to do on MY computer." Actually, it came out more like this: "No, you use compootah in haw. I hah someting do on MY compootah." Now first of all, the last time I checked, these COMPOOTAHS belong to the medical center. And second of all, did she just tell me to move to the equivalent of the back of the bus? The computer in the HALL? Oh hell naw!!! Did I mention that she proceeded to not even do any work on her computer? She just sat at the desk and pushed a couple of keys every few minutes to make noise. After I went into the hall (seething the whole way), I realized that the computer there isn't connected to the network, and I ended up having to use her computer after all. So after much ado, she gets up, but issues the warning that "I need to hurry up because (she) has work to do."
Now here is where the "oh no she didn't" comes in. When I finish using the computer and go back to my desk, why does this child break out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the box of Kleenex and proceed to thoroughly WIPE DOWN her entire work space including the phone (which I didn't even use)? Oh okay, so the latest guidelines from the World Health Organization with a cc'd copy to the Centers for Disease Control stated that Negro is a stage IV contagious disease now? I mean, cause that's exactly how she was acting. So for the rest of the day the dumb ass hasn't been able to look me in the eye. OKAYYYYYYYYYYY.... so when she got back from lunch, I was strategically placed at her desk with my feet propped up on the desk drawer, my ear plastered to the phone (talking to my boo, the DIAL TONE), and my fingers stuck to her keyboard, all the while writing this post for you guys' entertainment. So you want to wipe some shit down? WIPE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.S. (written a few hours later) And now the Russian wants to know where I am going and why I am not staying until six o'clock. I AM NOT YOUR SUBORDINATE!!!!! WE ARE EQUALS... except I speak the language fluently. LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!! Sorry, guys... PYT says that I should be more positive and not emphasize the negative all of the time, so I will try my absolute hardest to make this my last negative post about my job (or least to counterbalance every negative with a positive). Sorry, but that's the best I can do :)

Employment is Overrated

Okay, I know that I am late to this whole "work for a living" game. Many of you have already graduated from college/graduate school and have been in the worforce for quite a minute. But as someone who has only ever worked part-time in various somewhat interesting and moderately well-paying jobs, this shit is FOR THE BIRDS!!!! I always knew that I wasn't cut out to punch a timeclock, and this residency has already reinforced that decision to the tenth power. My co-residents speak VERY heavily accented English (when they aren't reverting back to their native tongues - that would be Korean and Russian, respectively). They seem to have already formed their own little "minority, but not really" clique in the office, so here I am, the only Black woman in the DEPARTMENT, and the only resident not eligible for Social Security. Okay, so I am exaggerating on the age thing. But both of them do have children who are seniors in high school, so either way, they are WAY old compared to me. Together they have decided to map out our entire year on this really ugly wall calendar... I mean, they have the schedule written in all these different colors and codes.... UGH!! Can I at least decide which health plan I want to sign up for and whether I plan to drive or take the train every day before they plan my freaking lunch break on January 3, 2007 out for me too? WOOOOOOOSAHHHHH!!!!! I just keep telling myself that once they unleash me on some patients and I can spend my entire day out on the floors actually impacting peoples' lives (I mean, isn't that what they're paying me for?) that I will feel a lot better. One can only hope... because right now, I am splitting my time between (1)deciding whether or not to slit my wrists here in the office or out in the main pharmacy and (2) what lie I can tell my supervisor so that I can leave early and catch a glimpse of Beyonce outside the 106 & Park studio tomorrow night. Ahh, the life of the working poor :)

Falling Star

Now, I know... most of you are either tired of hearing about this topic by now or never gave an ish in the first place, but I just can't help myself..... GO STAR JONES REYNOLDS!!!!!!!!!!! Now before anyone goes off calling me a hypocrite, let me issue a disclaimer: I am not nor have I ever been a raging fan of the lovely Mrs. Gay, I mean Jones Reynolds. However, I just can't help but respect the way she handled the whole getting fired thing. First ABC decides not to renew her contract (which they were well within their rights to do) citing "ratings issues." But the episodes that they claimed were responsible for tanking the ratings (the ones where she was planning and gushing endlessly about her upcoming wedding) were actually the highest rated five episodes out of the top ten of the year (go figure). But Star sucked it up and she agreed with the network on a departure date of July 13. Apparently Barbara Walters spoke with Star in private and told her that she could make up whatever lie she wanted to avoid saying that she had been fired, and she would have the support of Ms. Walters and the entire ABC powers that be. But Star refused to let them off that easy and decided to leave the show on her own terms. So yesterday morning she halted the aged Ms. Walters mid-sentence and announced that secondary to the network's decision to "take the show in a different direction for their 10th season," she had decided to leave her position. That little announcement (which was supposed to take place on Thursday, June 28th according to her agreement with the network) was met with cries of "Oh my goodness! How shocking!" by her co=hosts. But was it really? EVERYONE at ABC knew that Star was leaving, and the only thing that was a surprise was that she grew some balls overnight and decided to do it the way SHE wanted to do it.
Now this morning Barbara Walters has told the New York Post that she feels "betrayed and hurt," and that she simply cannot undstand why Star would choose to announce her departure in such a public and ugly way. WHAT??????? Bitch, she was FIRED.... what did you want her to do? Sit through one of those foolish goodbye shows like the one they gave Meredith Viera and smile through it all???? HELL NO!!! And to top it all of, Ms. Walters called Star's agent and stated that she did not want Star to come to work today. So what does Mrs. Gay, I mean Jones Reynolds, do? She says THE HELL WITH IT...I ain't coming back at all.... BITCHES!!!!!!! Now that's what I'm talking about. She tried to handle it with dignity and grace. She took the unlubricated shaft up the ass without flinching, but she gets it yet again. So she bounced, and I have to say that I support her 100%. The View has since removed her picture from their website, their opening credits, and any official publications carrying their name - almost as if she never existed. DAMN!!!
I guess I am only captured by this story because people here in New York are going crazy over it, and also because I just can't stand to see the media trying to turn personal issues into a public lynching. Star Jone Reynolds was fired because of the haters... she lost a lot of weight, refused to talk about it publicly (and why should she?), and kept it moving while doing what she was paid to do: HER DAMN JOB!! And what does she get for her trouble? Angry white people. SIGH..... so like I said. I am still not a huge fan of Star Jones Reynolds, but I just can't help feeling bad for the way that she is being treated.

Britney Weird

Okay, so I was trying to avoid commenting on that God-awful interview of Britney Spears by Matt Lauer, but my patience has run out. I saw the second half of it when it originally aired, and then I caught it in its completion when the network had the nerve to re-air it... all I can really say about the experience is DAMN. How did some wholesome white girl from the dirty Souf (yeah, I said "Souf") grow up to be such a trailer dwelling, gum chewing, milk-engorged breast exposing MOTHER???? I can't even wrap my mind around it, so I will direct yall to my new favorite blog for the complete recap. It is written by Melissa who used to be on the Real World (New Orleans, I think)... I loved her on the show, but I had NO IDEA that she is so damn funny. So check out Princess Melissa.

15, 30, 35.....

Okay. So I have been in the tri-state area (babe, did we ever figure out what that third state was?) for 72 hours, and I finally decided to venture into the subway system. WHOAH. First of all, why is there a train for every season - 4, 5, 6, L, M, N, O, blah blah blah. Why could I not figure out where I was going, then when I got on the train, it turned out to tbe the wrong freaking one???? So then I had to get off the first train and totally branch out from the directions my girlfriend gave me to try and get back to catch train number two. Good Lord..... hence the title of my post. I know it probablt isn't funny to anyone else, but I felt like Mike Epps in that stupid movie with Ice Cube: "15, 30, 35, 37... a-duh-duh-duh-duh.... 45, 47!!!!!" I couldn't figure out which way was up, but I finally made it home.
And oh yeah... had a random celebrity siting today. Before I left to move up here, my newly discovered psychic manfriend told me that I would meet Malik Yoba on the street and that his lips would probably be ashy (damn, I know!). So I walking up 8th Avenue in Chelsea after trying for ten minutes to hail a cab, and finally I catch one. I get in and we immediately have to stop at a stoplight. I look ut the window on my side (we are in the far right lane, right next to the curb) where I see this VERY fine, VERY tall Black man getting out of a white Mercedes and heading toward this little corner deli. As he is closing his door, he looks up toward traffic, and I see that it is.... MALIK YOBA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And no, his lips were most definitely NOT ashy!! I was so thrown that I couldn't even reach the button to roll down the window in the cab. I just sat there looking like Boo Boo the Fool mouthing the words, "Omigod!!! Malik Yoba!!!" If he saw me at all (which I doubt), he was probably thinking to himself, "What a dumbass!!" **SIGH** Maybe next time my timing will be better, and I'll actually be on the street instead of locked inside of a vehicle :)

20 Questions... Remember That Game?

1. If you could be doing what you really want to be doing for a living, what would it be?
I would be a professional shopper. You know, those people who spend their days picking out beautiful clothes for sometimes not so beautiful people... and they get paid for it. It would involve my two of my favorite things: shopping and money.
2. If you could slap the crap out of any famous person, alive or dead, who would it be?
Hmm.... I would think that this would be easier than it is. But if I had to choose one person, it would be (and I apologize for copying those who came before me) yall's President, George W. Bush. Yes, I know I could be writing to you from the inside of a torture basement by tomorrow for writing that, but hey - it's how I feel.
3. What's the dumbest decision you've made in the past 5 years?
Giving the right guy the wrong finger.... thankfully I got the message (MESSAGE!) one day and cut him loose before I did too much damage. I will always regret saying yes to marriage, but I will always be thankful that I woke up before we reached the altar.
4. Give up for one year: (good) sex or (good) music.
Good sex, hands down. But does that mean that you won't have ANY sex or you just won'thave any GOOD sex??? Hmm.... well, either way, I would give up the magic stick before I would give up my ipod. If you read my last post, you know how much I love just the right song.
5. Dudes, would you rather have a big dick or a good sense of humor? Ladies, nice tits & ass or common sense?
This one is a no brainer: COMMON SENSE. Too many people are walking around with oo little of that, and it drives me CRAZY!! I really don't have too much in the way of "T," so I can't say I'd miss it. But I'd sacrifice all this "A" in a minute if the aternative was no common sense!
6. So you've been invited to an all expense paid Blogger Prom in the Bahamas. You're sitting at a bar on the beach. WHich blogger do you want to join you for hours of good convo?
First of all, I want to know why blogspot is so cheap... the Bahamas? Oh well, free vacation. But I would have to say that my first choice would be Jarrod. He keeps me laughing all the time, and since I wouldn't really know anyone else, he would dance with me :)
7. Which blogger would you most like to cuddle with on the beach? (And don't defer to your current signinifcant other, either. Infidelity won't count against you. Duh).
Umm, this is isn't really hard either. Again, being relatively new to blogger land means that I only know one cuddle-worthy blogger, the man with the random thoughts. I like to cuddle with him.
8. You're going on a 5 hour road trip... which CDs do you bring?
Lauryn Hill - The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
R Kelly - TP2
Mariah Carey - The Emancipation of Mimi
Two mix CDs from my collection... maybe one gospel and one hip hop.
9. Would you rather bury your children young or have your children bury you young?
That's a very difficult decisiont to make. I guess I would rather bury my children young. Even though it would be incredibly sad, I would know that God brought them back to be close to Him before they had a chance to experience too much of the sadness and pain that life too often serves up. Even though I wasn't all that young, burying my mother was unbearable. I would never want that for my children. Never.
10. What's your biggest insecurity?
Interacting with men.
11. What's the first blog you read every day... or however often you read them?
PYT. But he's been slipping on the regular updates lately, so then I check Jameil and Russatta because they always have something new and interesting to say.
12. When's the last time you peed your pants?
I honestly don't remember ever doing that. I am pretty sure that it happened at some point, maybe I've repressed the experience, but I just don't remember.
13. Which was better, your first kiss or your first paycheck?
PAYCHECK!!!!!!! I was working at the Pentagon, and say what you will about our President, but them government jobs pay LOVELY!!! The first kiss was in seventh grade with some boy that I thought was unbelievably cute, but now can't even remember his name!
14. Do you have kids? Want kids?
No, I do not have any children yet, but I would love to have some. I used to say that I only wanted one, so anyone who knows me from way back when would be shocked to hear that. But ideally I would like to have two children, and I pray that I will be a third of the mother to them that mine was to me.
15. You get dropped off at home after the office holiday party by your bitch azz boss that you can't effing stand...you exit the car and he peels out, runs a red light at your corner and rolls up an unsuspecting midget. The next day the midget watch groups are on TV outraged at the heartless hit and run, and are calling for any witnesses to please come forward...that half dead midget has a family at home waiting on C-mas presents. Would you take $1000 hush money? $500? $100? A six pack?
Okay, now yall KNOW how I feel about midgets!! I wouldn't even need the hush money -I'd keep quiet for free.
16. Live the rest of your life without your eyebrows or your fingernails?
Oh hell to the naw!!! No eyebrows? No ma'am!! I have such a problem with getting my eyebrows right, that I would have to say that I could do without those fingernails.
17. What makes you angry?
Liars, cheaters, thieves, injustice, abuse of power.
18. What makes you horny?
A soft touch at the base of my neck, TP2, a confident man, thunderstorms, wine, when a man holds my face while he's kissing me.
19. What makes you nervous?
Dramatic change, going on a date with a new man, staring, compliments, first impressions.
20. What makes you smile?
Giggling children, a song from "back in the day," success, a good book on a terrible day, SHOES, my boo (yeah, you), mommy's macaroni and cheese, good food at a good restaurant, flowers, a handwritten note on a scrap of paper, a long kiss.

Whew!! I am tired... but not so tired that I can't come up with 20 questions of my own. So here are some from me to you.... feel free and let me know when you're done...

1. Which was better, your last kiss or your last paycheck?
2. What motivates you?
3. What drains your spirit?
4. What sounds do you love?
5. What sounds do you hate?
6. Which could you do without for one month: your best friend or the love of your life?
7. If you care at all, who are you more mad at: Brad or Angelina?
8. What is the smartest decision you've made in the last five years?
9. What's your primary love language? If you haven't read the book, READ IT, but here are your choices: physical affection, kind words, gifts, quality time, or acts of service.
10. What do you dream about?
11. What makes you shiver?
12. Would you rather be rich and unknown or poor and famous?
13. This one is for the fellas: which do you prefer? A woman who is beautiful and insecure or average and confident?
14. This one is for the ladies: which do you prefer? A man who is packing and misinformed or lacking and creative?
15. Love or success?
16. Peace or passion?
17. Live the rest of your life alone or poor?

Okay, no more... now I'm really tired. Please play :)

This Post Is Brought To You By The Letter "M"... What Else??

Thanks PYT for giving me some me some new crack to smoke.... this "come up with 10 things that start with the letter M" thing is THAT WHITE!! So after my little temper tantrum about your choice of letter for me, here is what I came up with.

1. Music. I love music. The right song can bring to mind the best time of my life. The wrong one (don't you love those on the Russ Parr Morning Show!!) can make me burst into tears in the middle of the interstate. Music gives me the chance to say things that I might not ever get out on my own. So my first thing that starts with "M" is music.

2. Mall. I ADORE the mall. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a problem. Some people drink alone in the middle of the day, some people use ponytail holders to tie off their arm for that next fix, I go to the mall. I love to shop. Shopping makes me happy. There are few feelings in the world like finding that perfect dress that you've been watching for two months on clearance for 60% off. Better than sex. No, scratch that. Better than some sex I've had (but not in the last seven months, so relax baby!).

3. Mommy. If you ever knew me, you know my mommy. She was the BEST mother ever. Not much more to say about that.

4. Mulatto. Please, please, please. People, please pass the word that "mulatto" is not an appropriate way to refer to someone of mixed ethnic heritage. "Biracial" works for me. Some people don't seem to mind "mixed" (I am not one of those people). But MULATTO? That term should have been canned when Gone with the Wind left the penny theaters and massa read the Emancipation Proclamation under Emancipation Oak? One day at work, an old white woman refrred to me as "that mulatto gal." Okay, yeah...... so let's not use that anymore, 'kay pumpkin?

5. Munchkins. I am afraid of them. I'm talking trembling, stuttering, sweating, dizzy afraid. And yes, I know that they aren't supposed to be called munchkins. But whatever.... they are scary little creatures and I am afraid of them.

6. Missionary. I know you didn't think that I meant the people who go to the far reaches of Africa and read the Bible to children with swollen bellies while swatting flies (I know, I know... fast track to hell!). I meant the position. Many people think that the missionary position is boring. But I love it - since I know many of you vould care less about the details, I'll spare you. Suffice it to say that missionary sex can be some of the best sex you've ever had (and yes, better than the mall).

7. Muffin. That's what I call my dog. No, that is not his name, but for some reason I decided one day that he looked like a muffin, so it stuck. No, pit bulls should not ever be called "Muffin" in public. But Stone is my muffin, and if you don't like it, OH WELL!!

8. Mark. My first boyfriend. More importantly, the boy who taught me to believe that men are not to be trusted. Sound a little bitter? Maybe. But that was the lesson, and damn if he wasn't teacher of the year on that one! Oh well... like most high school romances, he probably can't even remember my last name, but I remember him. And I would like to say, "Thanks Mark!" Thank you for showing me that it can only get better with time :)

9. Maybe. What the hell does that mean? "Maybe." Maybe you should be more decisive and pick something a little more definitive. I hate the word "maybe." Maybe because in our house, "maybe" was always code for "HELL NO and stop asking!!" "Maybe" just seems like an excuse to postpone making a decision. Let's band together and ban the word "maybe." Maybe it will catch on.

10. Miss. I've been trying not to think too much about this, but I am going to miss my PYT when I move to New Jersey. More than I ever thought I would. More than he thinks I will. More than either of us ever saw coming. But I am REALLY going to miss him. I'll miss his laughter and his jokes that make mine seem downright corny. I'll miss his apartment and my side of the bed. I'll miss "whatcha doin," "nuttin... playin Playstation, watchin TV." I'll miss the struggle. I'll miss the tongue ring. I'll miss... damn, I'm getting all teary eyed!! I WILL MISS HIM.

Okay, I'm finally done with this thing. It was tough, but I think I did okay. Thanks again for the inspiration :)

The Countdown Begins

 
So the coutdown has begun... fifteen more days until I have to pack up everything I own and move to the big city. I have really been slacking on making the preparations, but I guess I just can'tdo it anymore. But I made out like a bandit on the housing thing. My girlfriend who just got married is renting me her place, and she is leaving everything in it... the furniture, the televisions, the DVD players, the Playstation (I don't even know how to play Playstation!), and.... (drumroll, please).... her TiVo (YEAH!!!!). For the first time since I lived at home with my mommy I can walk into the other room to wash clothes instead of driving across town. I don't have to move any furniture, just clothes and personal junk. God really looked out on this one.....
On an unrelated note, I just got home from an AMAZING vacation with my girlfriends in Hawaii. It was just what the doctor ordered... fun in the sun, no beef, no drama, no work. Just shopping, conversation, television, swimming, and five star food. So for any of you who might be thinking of going to Hawaii soon (especially with a significant other), check out the Halekulani Hotel... it is HIGHLY recommended. The Samoan boys were easy on the eyes, and Chanel, Gucci, and Dior kept the girls in HEAVEN the whole week. ALOHA!!!!! 

When Do People Grow Up?

OK... many of you have heard me complain about the silly anonymous posters on my blog whose comments never see the light of day (you would think they would stop after a while, right?).... well.... while I realize that by giving them this little bit of web time I am only fueling their stupid little fire, I just can't resist. WHEN THE HELL DO PEOPLE GROW UP? When we graduate from high school and register to vote? Clearly not. That just allows us to have an extra form of ID in our wallets. When we graduate from college and enter the wonderful world of working and paying taxes? Nah... that just gives us something extra to complain about. When we go back to school and get ANOTHER college degree to beef up our resumes and improve our earning potential? Definitely not... now we can just insult people using bigger words that earn double digit points in Scrabble. What is wrong with people?????

In my last post, I was lamenting the fact that the University left my name off the magna cum laude list and simultaneously managed to misspell my name. Well my favorite anonymous blogger sent me a message (which I did decide to publish) saying that maybe if I actually had the appropriate GPA, my name might not have been left off of the list. Well, for whoever cares (which apparently this person does!), I did in fact graduate with a magna cum laude GPA - 3.62 to be exact. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been eligible for the President's Award (which I actually won), and I certainly wouldn't have made such a big deal out of being left off the list. What the hell? Why do you have to hate on someone else just to make yourself feel better? And does it really make you feel better to cast aspersions on someone behind the cloak of anonymity? So now because I am responding to this bullshit, I manage to feel like a whiny, paranoid, "shellfish" brat (another funny insult from my anonymous friend) who feels the need to defend herself on the Internet SIGH..... oh well. Guess even a Pharm.D. doesn't make a person act their age. Dammit! When do people grow up?

Is There A Doctor in the House?

Finally, the answer to that question is "YES!!!!!" I have finally finished, and as of Sunday, May 14, 2006, "Confessions of a Professional Woman" is now written by Me, Pharm.D. It feels pretty strange, to be honest. I have worked so hard for so long, that it doesn't even seem real to me anymore. Plus there's that minor problem of my name on my diploma being misspelled and it being left off of the magna cum laude list. Oh well... I'm done Time to push forward. So thanks to all of you out there who contributed in ANY way to this degree - hope I made you proud :)
And as a side note.... whoever is posting these silly little anonymous messages on my blog, either stop or identify yourself. Trying to hurt me without having the balls to write your name is silly, elementary, and cowardly. And for the record, your comments regarding my family were not only incorrect, but they were extremely hateful. So give it a rest already!!

Friendship

I don't think I have ever known real friendship. Wait, let me see if I can put that a little better. I have friends - good friends - and I don't know how I would have survived my adult life without them. But I honestly don't think that I have ever REALLY known what real friendship means. The kind of friendship that survives the horrible experience of looking yourself in the mirror and seeing WRONG. The kind of friendship that makes you want to choke your friend, but simultaneously realize that you never would have reached such a moment of clarity without them. I spoke to a girlfriend tonight who did those things for me. She pointed out the truth to me... a truth so horrible and hidden that I never would have come to it on my own. I look at mysef every day when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. I like to think that I know myself better than anyone else ever could But after having known this insightful, honest, concerned woman for a little less than a year, she saw it. The one thing that has given rise to all of the things that have been bothering me for the last I don't know how long. My response to all of that was a stunned silence. At first I was mad. How dare her known something about me that I never realized? Then I was in denial. That can't possibly be right. Now I'm just thankful. Thankful that I have someone in my life who has the ability to see what I need to help me make a change and the nerve to show it to me without fear of jeopardizing our friendship. She doesn't care that I might be mad at her because she knows it isn't personal. She knows my pain because she has felt it too. She doesn't want to hear my excuses and explanations because she recognizes them for what they are: simple tools of incompetence that build monuments of nothingness (sound familiar to some of you?). So God bless Robin. I am not fixed, I only know how to start the process. But without her, I wouldn't even be on the right road.

Blog Neglect

I haven't written anything in so long, and there really isn't any excuse. I guess I just kept waiting to be inspired so that I could write something profound and interesting. But I have come to the realization that I don't always have to be profound and interesting. It's okay to occasionally just say stuff because I feel like it. I have been tossing some things around in my head trying to decide if I am brave enough to put them out here in blogland, but until I get some larger balls.... check out some more stuff about me (another theft from my friend PYT).

10 Favorites
Favorite Color: red
Favorite Food: macaroni and cheese
Favorite Singer: Mariah Carey
Favorite Song: Love Takes Time
Favorite Movie: Love Jones
Favorite Sport: basketball and football (I can't decide)
Favorite Season: autumn (yes, PYT: soon-to-be graduates say "autumn" and not "fall")
Favorite Day Of The Week: Saturday
Favorite Position: I plead the fifth

9 Currents
Current Taste: Turtles and water
Current Clothes: some gray sweatpants and a Nike tshirt
Current Desktop Picture: Vegas skyline at night
Current Location: 508C
Current Time: 12:17 p.m.
Current Crush: I can't say that I have one
Current Thought: I have to find a place to live soon before I am homeless
Current Enemy: failure
Current Procrastination: looking for an apartment

8 Firsts
First Best Friend: Dionne Veronique Long
First Kiss: Mark Allen in 9th grade (I know... I was a little slow on the pickup)
First Screen Name: dstdiva98
First Time: 20th birthday
First Yearbook Caption: Most Likely to Succeed
First Crush: James Hammer in sixth grade
First Music You Remember Hearing: Patti Labelle (my mom LOVED her some Ms. Patti!)
First Car: 2002 Saturn

7 Lasts
Last Cigarette: don't smoke
Last Alcoholic Drink: March 31, 2006
Last Car Ride: this morning on my way home from work
Last Kiss: last Saturday
Last Movie Seen: Monster in Law (on HBO), Inside Man (in the theater)
Last Phone Call: PYT about a whole lot of nothing
Last CD Played: Keyshia Cole

6 Have You Evers
Have You Ever Made Love To One Of Your Male Friends: yes
Have You Ever Been Arrested: no
Have You Ever Skinny Dipped: no
Have You Ever Been On TV: yes
Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: no
Have You Ever Said You Loved Someone And Not Meant It: no

5 Things
5 Things You've Done Today: took a shower, went to work, left a deposit for my graduation party, checked my email, updated my blog
5 Things You Can Hear Right Now: Keyshia Cole's "Love," my dog snoring, my nails on the keyboard, the rain outside my window, myself humming
5 Things You Do When You're Bored: sleep, eat, read, write in my journal, talk on the phone

4 Places
4 Places You Want To Visit: Italy, Australia, Greece, Africa, Tahiti

3 People
3 People You Can Tell Anything To: BF, Tyffani, God

2 Choices
Black Or White: black
Hot Or Cold: hot

1 Thing
1 Thing You Want To Do Before You Die: make sure that I've done whatever I can to ensure that I'll see my mom again

I'm Rambling.... Sorry!

First, Happy Birthday to my beloved grandmother who celebrates another year of life today. Cheers to Dr. Gladys Hope Franklin White... hopefully we'll have many more!

Second, thanks to all the people who offered encouragement and input on the essay from the last blog. I won the award, so all's well that ends well.

Third, I found out today that I am not as fabulous as I tend to think that I am. Now that might not come as a shock to some of you who know me (and some of you who don't!), but it was a BLOWER for me. Today was "Match Day," the day where pharmacy and medical students find out which residency program they matched with. Some of you may remember that I have been interviewing for the last few months, and I finally decided that my first choice was Johns Hopkins University. Well.... I didn't get it. I got my second choice (Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan, New York) which isn't anything to sneeze at, but.... DAMMIT!!! I feel so ungrateful for saying this, but I really expected to match at Hopkins, and I don't quite know what to do with myself now that I haven't. Some people didn't match at all, and I realize the significance of actually having a job to go to in one of the biggest cities in the world. BUT I WANTED HOPKINS!!!!!! (that was me throwing a tantrum, in case you couldn't figure that one out) I'm trying to understand that maybe this is where I am meant to be and not question the reasons behind not getting selected to go to Baltimore. It's just so hard because I thought I was long overdue for some good news.

And as if my professional life being in shambles isn't enough to keep me busy, I have managed to screw up my personal life as well.... GREAT! There was a guy (we'll keep the PYT label for now) I was seeing for a few months, and I really started to like him. It was funny, though, because it was never supposed to turn out that way. We met through a mututal acquaintance and went out for dinner one night. He seemed to be really interested in me and I was pleasantly surprised to feel the same way. But as fate would have it (and per my usual pattern), I found a way to screw the whole thing up. I knew that I was starting to have feelings for him, and I made the age old mistake of introducing the "where are we going? What are we doing?" conversation. Well, you can imagine how that turned out. He made it pretty clear that he only sees me as a friend (GASP IN HORROR!!!) with whom he shares occasional benefits, and he left it up to me as to whether I wanted to continue that way or scrap the whole thing. Now I'm a pretty strong girl. I figured that even though I really liked him (and yes, I REALLY did like him), I could manage to maintain a platonic friendship and learn to get past my one-sided desires. I was wrong. Every time I see him, I remember what it was like to have him hug me. Every time I get near him, I want him to kiss me. IT SUCKS. And it sucks even more because he isn't the kind of guy that I normally fall for. PYT is the most casual, nonchalant, "whatever, whenever" man I have ever met in my life. While we were dating, I spent all my time trying to figure out if he really didn't give a damn, or if he was just really good at masking his feelings. I thought if I could just crack through that shell, then we might have a shot at something beyond friendship. But I was wrong. Girl likes boy, boy doesn't like girl. What do I do guys? I know, I know... HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME. But my question then becomes: why not? Did he ever really like me the way that I liked him or was it just something I cooked up because I was looking for a boyfriend and not a friend with benefits? I wasn't honest with myself and I wasn't honest with him. I've never really been the girl who could be okay with "playing it day by day" or just "spending time together," and so the minute I realized that I felt something, I should have said so and given him the chance to get out. That way, I could've spared myself the grief of sitting at home crying over some man who isn't giving me the time of day. But I didn't, and now here we are. Sex complicates even the strongest of friendships, and if I wasn't sure of that before, I am now. I'm afraid that I made a bad choice today, and that I might have ruined the very friendship that I was trying to protect. I don't want to walk away, but I don't see how I can stay and not keep hurting myself. PYT is a really good guy, and I know that he doesn't want to intentionally hurt me. I just feel like I am creating the type of situation where he is only sticking around because he feels guilty.

These are my issues of the week... feel free to chime in as you see fit. I know that the chances of the subject of this blog reading my words is pretty strong, so if you're out there, know this: when I met you, I thought that you were cute. When we went out to dinner, I thought that you were funny. When we kissed, I thought that I was attracted to you. When it went beyond that, I thought that we had good chemistry. When I woke up four months later and realized that I really liked you, I knew that I was in trouble. And now I don't know what to do. Our chemistry never went away, but you want me to pretend that my feelings have. You said that we made a "mistake," and then you called it a "mutual decision." I call it inevitable. So what do you want to do?

The Voice of Why Not

OK, guys.... I am going out on a limb today, so please bear with me. I had to apply for an award at school, and the only criteria were that the written form not exceed two pages, and that the theme was "The Power of Why Not." So now you know what I knew - very vague, and very open to interpretation. I have already submitted my essay, but I really want to know what people who don't know me think of the final product. So please read this and offer your criticism. The things I am most interested in are: does it fit the theme? Does it speak to you? Would you vote for it? Anything else you have to say would be great as well. Thanks!!!! Deep breath.... here we go.

I hear the voice every morning when I get out of bed. “You really should hurry along! Time waits for no one!” Sometimes I even have to take a look around because the voice is so clear and so strong. I hear the voice when I am driving to school. “Watch where you’re going now! You can’t be so close to that man’s bumper!” Sometimes I glance at the passenger’s side and barely suppress a curt response. I hear the voice when I am sitting in class. “Make sure you get all of that! You never know what’s going to be on the test!” Sometimes I roll my eyes in my mind, because to do so outwardly would NOT yield a positive result. I hear the voice when I turn the last light off at night. “Don’t forget to say your prayers. You have to stay on your knees if you ever want to get anywhere in life.” I hear the voice in my dreams. “Don’t doubt yourself. You don’t need me - stand strong and know that I will always be with you.” That is when I have no response. No quick glance to the side, no rolling of the eyes… that is the voice I listen to. That is the voice that guides me. That is the voice of childhood authority and adulthood guidance. That is the voice of my mother. She was the light that showed me the way, she is the reason I can even be considered for such a prestigious award. Dr. Sharon White-Williams lived the power of why not, and today so do I.

I never realized how extraordinarily lucky I was to have found myself in a home filled with such love and happiness. Mine was an upbringing filled with knowledge and learning, laughter and jokes, teaching and support, God and inspiration. Understanding the power in “why not” was a life lesson in our home where self doubt was not allowed and “can’t” was not a word. When others doubted the wisdom of her choice and bureaucracy threatened to steal her dream, my mother asked herself “Why not adopt her? I can give her a life filled with all the things she would ever need to become a woman, and I am the one God has chosen to lead her journey. So here I stand on the foundation of why not.

I was always the youngest child in my class because my mother insisted on beginning my learning in our home. The refrigerator was cluttered with magnetic letters and the bookshelves sagged under the weight of Where The Wild Things Are and Amelia Bedelia. Why not teach her? Why not show her that the future of an intelligent and well-educated Black child in America shone brighter than the August sun? Why not turn to a book before a television or write a story before a love letter? There was power in why not, and my mother was stronger in that power than any woman I knew. When the road to understanding and knowledge seemed closed even to me, hers was the voice of reason and calm. When I tasted the bitterness of failure and couldn’t figure out how to keep going in the right direction, hers was the idea that brought me back to the path. “Why not try pharmacy school, Monique? You could come home to Hampton and we could be together again!” She saw what I couldn’t see. She knew what I didn’t know. She possessed what I was too afraid to embrace. She believed in me. So here I am, poised on the edge of academic success and buttressed by the power of why not.

I speak often of her voice. The calming, reassuring, authoritative, commanding, beautiful voice that I hear everywhere I go. It never occurred to me that one day I might not be able to hear that voice anymore. The summer of 2002 brought a pain and sadness to my life that I hoped to never know, but as always, it was survived with the power of why not. “I have cancer. The doctors say that there is nothing they can do. But I have to make it. I have to make it for you.” That is the voice I remember the most. The voice that carried the worst news of my life, and the voice that convinced me to keep living. Why not hope? Doctors operate on science, but we operate on God. Why not live? No man was meant to be here forever, so why not take each day to celebrate our pasts and plan our futures. Why not pray? He has never given us more than we can bear, and He will continue to keep us in His will long after our arms have grown tired and weak. Why not trust? Why not love? Why not grow? These were the questions that brought me here, and unfortunately they have brought me here alone. My mother made it as far as she could, and along the way, the child that she loved became a woman that she admired. The living voice became silent on September 18, 2003, but the power and legacy of the message live on. So why not? There is power in those words, there is power in their history. My future is a blessed one, an ordained one, a predetermined one. Even I am not aware of the potential curves and obstacles that might lie in my way, but I know that the voice will never let me stop moving forward. Dr. Sharon White-Williams knew the power of why not, and today because of her voice, so do I.

Who Actually Lives in the Boondocks?

Okay... now I know I can be a little late on the pickup sometimes. For example (no comments from the peanut gallery, please), I still haven't seen The Five Heartbeats. I know, I know... you are expecting me to submit my Black card IMMEDIATELY, do not pass go, do not collect SHIT!! But this time, I have to hang my head in shame, because I honestly feel like I've been missing something. THE BOONDOCKS. Yo... that little cartoon is one of the funniest shows I have ever seen! I saw last night's episode, "Let's Nab Oprah," and I really thought that I was going to pee on myself. Here are a couple of golden quotes from that funny ass cartoon:

• I sent the bitch a smiley face! Bitches LOVE smiley faces!
• I be texting my ass off! Bitches love texts!
• Anything you do with your thumbs CAN'T be positive!
• Two ways are just some nigga ass shit! They don't do nothin' but let dumb ass niggas talk to another dumb aass nigga about some ignorant ass nigga shit!
• BODYSNATCHER NO. 2: That ain't Oprah!
• Yall niggas is gay!

For almost a full minute, I laughed until my eyes filled up with tears, but then I had to stop for a second. Was that Samuel L. Jackson lending his voice to a thug ass white man with cornrows? And was that Charlie Murphy lending his voice to another thug ass white man with a penchant for typing with his thumbs? And best of all, was that REGINA KING lending her voice to a thug ass little BOY who was the mastermind of the whole dumbass scheme to kindnap Oprah Winfrey? After I got over the feeling that that one 30-minute cartoon set our people (or half of our people, as PYT would remind me) back 500 years, I couldn't help but smile. Anything involving mistaking Maya Angelou for Oprah Winfrey and a white guy robbing every establishment in town owned by his grandfather has to make you laugh. So, kudos to the developers of The Boondocks, cause that thing was HILARIOUS!!!!!!

Bushwick Bill ('member him?)

That's right, ladies and gentlemen.... you heard it here first: Bushwick Bill is back on the scene, and I saw him FIRSTHAND at the Olive Garden on Mercury Boulevard in Hampton, Virginia. Yeah, yeah, I know. Bushwick Bill and the other members of the SUPERHOT (not!) Geto Boys bit the dust in the year 1993, but I'm telling you: I saw him KILLING some dry ass breadsticks and some Olive Garden salad with one olive (yall know I'm right!). Here's how it went...
My girlfriend and I were having lunch this afternoon following yet another wonderful Founder's Day celebration (you HU heads can probably feel me on that). We were just shooting the breeze, laughing it up, when we she saw this guy and his homeboy come in and sit at the table next to us. Now ol' boy #2 (or Bushwick Bill, as he will become affectionately known from now on) was in a wheelchair. Now before I go any further, I feel that I have to speak in my defense. I am an equal opportunity dater. Big or small, tall or not so tall, dark skinned, light skinned, blue collar or white.... I TRY to approach every encounter with an open mind. So the fact that this guy just happened to be in a wheelchair is NOT the issue - HONESTLY. But I will say that it did not really help his cause at all. Okay, now back to the story.
My girlfriend Ihuoma is a joker. I'm talking about the funniest person I know besides my PYT - but he's in a league all his own. She will turn something as mundane as a walk in the park into the funniest thing you've heard since "The Wayne Brady" skit on Chappelle Show (thanks for putting me on to that!). So when she saw Bushwick, she said, "Does he have on LOUIS VUITTON LOAFERS??????" Now that was enough to make me stop what I was doing and turn around. This brother had on quite possibly the fakest Louis Vuitton shoes either of us had ever seen. I'm talking about the kind of "Flouis Buitton" you can only get at Ming Na's House of Beauty and Hair Weave. But it's cool - everybody has their own thing, so we chuckled about it and kept it moving.
About twenty minutes later we were laughing about something else ridiculous (probably one of our classmates' dry ass lips or the latest response to that Cam'rom bull...), when I saw her go stiff. I mean she stopped taling in the middle of her sentence and just froze. Before I could ask her what was wrong, I caught movement in my periphery. Bushwick Bill was coming - I mean ROLLING - up on us at about 30 mph, and then he coasted the rest of the way until he came to a complete stop right next to my chair. Before he even opened his mouth, I knew we were in trouble because he smelled like every bottle of cologne on sale at Nordstron plus a little armpit funk mixed in for good measure. Ihuoma and I looked at each other, and she just put her head down a little. I looked at him, and he said, "Hey ladies. My name is Damon. I looked over and saw you, and I just wanted to know if I could have your phone number?" I was so busy praying that he was talking to my girlfriend and not me, that I almost missed what he said. So I said, "MY phone number?" and he said, "Yes." I made the very serious mistake of looking at Ihuoma again, and she was staring at her plate so hard that I thought she was trying to figure out a way to jump inside. I was so stunned that I murmured some foolishness about being married and my husband not appreciating me giving OUR number out to some random man (yes, I at least had some sort of ring on my left hand to back this up). So Billy (or Damon, as HE would like to be called) said "Well, thank you for your time, and it was a pleasure meeting you" at which point he took off (again at 30 mph) back to his table. All we could do was look at each other, Ihuoma and I...... neither of us wanted to laugh because we knew he would be looking at us, but we were so stunned by the encounter that we didn't know what else to do. So I did the only thing I could think of: I called my PYT. "Uh, babe....... I ummm...... uhhhh....... you won't believe..... I...... uhhh..." and then I just handed the phone to Ihuoma. Only she could tell the story the way that it needed to be told, and unless he heard it from her first, he would just think that I was making the whole thing up. By the time he finished laughing (and offering to come up there to be my ignorant, not-so-understanding husband), he said, "Well - at least men think you're hot."
And that, my friends, is the crux (yes, I said CRUX in every day conversation!) of the problem. A REALLY unattractive guy with terrible cologne and a wheelchair rolled up on me (literally!) in a restaurant and asked me for my phone number. No pleasantries, no small talk, just a straight request: CAN I HAVE YOUR PHONE NUMBER? Now I think I'm a pretty good looking chick, and I've been told that I can hold my own on the block. So why is it that of ALL the men in Olive Garden today I had to get Bushwick Bill??????? I wasn't even looking for a pickup - I'm quite content with being the Old School fantasy of my PYT - but is it too much to ask that someone even REMOTELY attractive would find me desirable? Someone.. ANYONE???????
So this is how I spent a perfectly good Sunday afternoon: I am now the laughingstock of my very small circle of friends. I attracted the attention of a very odd little man, I caused my friend to have one less piece of furniture in his house (separate story all together), but for all you Geto Boys fans out there: at least you now know that Bushwick Bill is alive and well and KICKIN' it - well, sort of - in the Commonwealth. If only I could say that my mind was playin tricks on me.....

Que Serra, Serra

I am staring down the barrel of a particularly scary gun.... Friday I have a big interview for a residency program at a hospital in Brooklyn, and for the first time, they are asking me to give a brief presentation. Now ordinarily that wouldn't be a problem: I like to think that I'm a natural at standing in front of people and presentating myself and my information well. The problem here is that for the first time I will be presenting to PROFESSIONALS.... real live experts on the subject matter in question, and I am TERRIFIED. What if I'm not really as smart as I look on paper? What if I missed an important point when I was developing my presentation? What if I sound like I don't know what I'm talking about? What if they ask me questions that I don't know the answer to? What if, what if, what if????????
Wooooo sahhhhhhh..... OK, after taking a cleansing breath, I feel a little better (I just had a mini meltdown!). I still feel the residuals of anxiety, but I think I might make it. It's just that I REALLY want this position, and this is a one shot deal. I justkeep telling myself that they must have thought something of me when they read my application materials, or else I wouldn't even be going in for an interview. But, damn!!!!! Nothing can work you up into a self-doubting frenzy like the thought of standing in front of a gang of white people who are looking at you and expecting gretaness. Oh Lord, I think I made the anxiety come back!
Well - que serra, serra - whatever will be, will be. I have faith that God didn't bring me this far to let me fall flat on my face, but just in case, I'm keeping my fingers AND toes crossed!!!!

A Different Perspective (from the old school)

Never thought I'd be "it" since hardly anyone posts on my blog, but here we are. So thank you very much for bringing me into your little clique, PYT. And as for the age joke..... we'll just see about that.

Four jobs I've had:
United States Department of Defense, Pentagon (high school gig - big bucks, NO RESPONSIBILITY - the best kind of job!)
Health Careers Opportunity Program, UNC-CH (coordinated a program for high school kids interested in medical school. My best advice: pick another career!!)
D5Medical Transcription (listened to the intimate details of peoples' visits to the doctor and turned them into a written record)
Carrboro Elementary School (I was the science specialist. What is that, you ask? I was a very well-paid babysitter for kindergarten through fifth graders; a sort of "Mrs. Wizard," if you will)

Four movies I could watch over and over:
The Color Purple ("You told Harpo to beat me!" Now that was some funny @&%!)
Ray (any man who can get that much booty just by feeling up on a woman's wrist deserves my respect!)
Boyz n the Hood ("Rickeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Man, 1991 was the jump off - no comments from the peanut gallery, please!)
What's Love Got To Do With It (the back of the limo... need I say more?)

Four places I have lived:
Newport News, VA (that's where it all began)
Richmond, VA (lived there during my senior year at VCU)
Chapel Hill, NC (medical school - two years of hell on Earth plus two years of teaching)
Newport News, VA (back again, folks! When I left, I said never again, but pharmacy school and some personal stuff brought me home again)

Four TV shows I love:
Girlfriends (I think I have a little bit of all four of them, but that damn Toni Childs Garrett is HILARIOUS!!)
The L Word (love, lesbian, life, luck... who knows, but it's some good drama)
The West Wing (how much does it suck that they are canceling that after this season?)
The Office (by the far, the BEST sitcom I have seen since Martin - Michael has me IN THE FLOOR!)

Four places I've been on vacation:
Bermuda (my grandparents took me when I was 13... I just remember how beautiful the water was)
San Diego, CA (started out as a vacation, ended up re-defining my life)
New Orleans, LA (spur of the moment trip with a girlfriend and had the time of my life three days before Katrina hit... it was amazing)
Aruba (brought in 2006 on the beach watching the waves and the fireworks)

Four favorite foods:
Macaroni and cheese (nobody makes it like Mom did, but I sure try!)
Seafood (shrimp, lobster, scallops, fish... I LOVE SEAFOOD!!)
Ice cream (if I weren't so weight conscious, I would be at Coldstone every day!)
Coke (yeah, I know it's odd, but I had a two soda a day habit, and it has been 15 days since my last one, so...)

Four places I'd rather be right now:
The beach
At Oprah's house (yall know it's true: Gayle has got it made!)
New York, NY (I love the city)
With my mommy

Four Web sites I visit daily:
Hampton University (why does it always take so long for them to post my damn money to my account?!)
Gmail (gotta stay connected)
Bank of America (have to make sure that last pair of shoes didn'tput me over the limit)
cbs.com (gotta keep up with my Y&R)

Four bloggers who are now IT!
This is really sad because the only person I know really well with a blog has already done this, so it looks like the end of the road :( Sorry, guys!!

It's Not Them... It's YOU!!!!

I was listening to the Russ Parr morning show today on my way to yet another boring day of health care professionalism, when something caught my attention. They were discussing a letter from a listener (gender indeterminate) that brought up whether there really are a select few quality Black men or whether it's really something else. The direct quote was, "It's not there are only a few good Black men out there, it's YOU." Wow. The profound nature of that comment almost made me pull of the road! What if there really are plenty of wonderful Black men out there, and the problem is actually me? Their conversation went on to mention all of the stereotypes of Black womanhood: the bitter Black woman, the negative Black woman, the Black woman with baggage... but throughout it all, the moral of the story was that it's not the man, it's YOU. One female caller asked the question, "What is your romantic love market?" What are you bringing to the table that would warrant a second glance from a handsome, successful, Black man? And that is when I experienced an epiphany: until I can honestly say that I am the most presentable Monique I can be, I can't be mad when all I attract is the same old guys - the liars, the cheats, the dregs at the bottom of the cup of strong, rich, flavorful Black coffee. I can't allow the baggage from the past to weigh me down, and I certainly cannot expect any new man in my life to carry that baggage for me. Even the gentleman with whom I am currently spending my time - he is what he is, and I shouldn't try to make him into something that he's not. My biggest problem has always been trying to shape someone to fit the mold that I have already made for them and trying to relate instead of date.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.... the moral of the story? It's not them, it's me - and I am working on that.

Go with What You Know

So I changed my hair over the weekend. Now those of you who know me realize that this in itself is not a particularly life-altering event. However, this time I went a little overboard. I'm all about different hair colors and styles; frequently, I'll switch it up just to re-invent myself for the month. But this month I let my stylist convince me that blonde over brown was "hot." HOT? Yeah, it's hot alright. A HOT MESS. I look like a bootleg Keyshia Coles, except in my defense, the contrast between the colors isn't THAT stark. What was I thinking? What looks good on others doesn't always look good on us, right? Well, here I sit with two-toned hair and a slightly subdued attitude: my self esteem took a blow Saturday, but I am slowly bouncing back. I would show yall a picture, but I haven't made it quite that far just yet - still a little ashamed! But rest assured........ a change is gonna come. Saturday morning at 6:15 boys and girls: the old Mo is making a comrback!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Million Little Pains in the &%$!@

So I was watching Larry King Live last night (yes, boys and girls... my TV world is not just confined to Desperate Housewives and Lost!), and I saw James Frey discussing the so-called discrepancies in his book, A Million Little Pieces. For those of you who have not heard of the book or maybe haven't gotten around to reading it, it is an autobiographical account of Mr. Frey's addiction to drugs and alcohol and the story of how he got clean. The book was featured as an Oprah Book of the Month (instant bestseller), and it later became the number one selling book of 2005. The key to this book was its realism - as someone who has never suffered from an addiction, it was incredible how much I could feel his story. The book has emerged as somewhat of an inspiration to the millions of people who have been or continue to be suffering from substance abuse, and James Frey has become somewhat of a posterchild for perseverance and the ability to overcome obstacles. However, in the last few weeks, people have begun to say that the book is not accurate, and that the author embellished and maybe even downright lied about the events and people in his story. So my question is this: who cares? If the majority of the story took place while the author was drunk, high, or going through withdrawal, then who really remembers what exactly happened? And if it's HIS story (and not ours), then who are we to tell him that his story is not entirely factual? And beyond all of that, my question still remains: WHO REALLY CARES? If the story has touched people (and apparently it has), then let him tell his story the way that he wants it to be told. We as a people are always trying to tell someone how to do something. What do a few embelishments matter if the moral of the story is "I kicked my habit and you can too."
Sorry... I get a little annoyed sometimes by people whose sole purpose in life is to criticize other peoples' efforts. Was just wondering how anyone else felt about this.....

If You Were an Orchestral Instrument, Which One Would You Be? (and other inane questions that people ask)

So here I am again - almost a month has passed since my last blog, and every time I realize that, I promise to do better. I made the same promise today, so we'll just see how that turns out.

Not so long ago, I went on a job interview for my residency next year, and all in all, I thought it went pretty well.... until the end. The residency director looked at me and said (in his most serious voice), "Now I am going to ask you the really hard questoin that we always save until the end of the interview. Are you ready?" What do you say to that? "Uh, no thanks. I need a cigarette first?" So I took a deep breath, looked him straight in the eye, and with my most "bring it on" voice, I said, "Absolutely." I'm anticipating a question like, "what are the side effects of some obscure new drug?," "describe for me how to dose gentamicin," or maybe even "describe for me your most challenging clinical intervention and how it was resolved." But no... this man asked me, "If you were an orchestral instrument, which one would you be and why?" Are you serious? (that should have been MY question!). I went on to come up with some stunningly profound and intellectually-stimulating answer that left him clamoring for my full name to write on his "to hire" form, but it left me thinking: why do people ask such inane questions? The more I thought about it, the more stupid questions/comments that people ask/say came to mind, so I figured I'd be generous and share some of them with you guys....

• "You have such an interesting complexion... what breed are you?"
• "Your hair is so long - is it all yours?"
• (standing in line at the everything's a dollar store) "How much is this?"
• (underneath the exit sign) "Can I go out through this door?"

Four short questions... there could be so many more, but the simple act of reviewing them in my mind gives me a headache. Why do people ask such dumb questions and then look so shocked when they get an equally dumb answer in response?

Green Eyes Really Aren't All That Sexy

No one really reads this, so I guess I don't have to apologize for being away for so long, but hey... sorry, anyway!!!
Topic of the day is jealousy. What is so special about another person that they can inspire a feeling as intense and destructive as jealousy? Jealousy has brought down empires; jealousy has destroyed communites; hell, jealousy has even brought about the total annhilation of health and happiness. So knowing all of this, why would any self-respecting women succumb to the warmth and comfort of a good old-fashioned jealous fit? I used to think that it was immaturity, and that the little green-eyed monster of jealousy would cease to exist as soon as I got the proverbial "old enough." But, alas! How incredibly wrong I turned out to be. After all the 007 days and "Mission Impossible" nights, I honestly thought that I was past any need to participate in the self destruction of jealousy. But just when you think nothing can send you back to that place, BAM!!! It all comes back with a vengeance. As women, any little thing can inspire jealousy. She's prettier than me, he knew her before he met me, she's more successful than me, she knows him better than I do, they spend more time together, blah, blah, blah, BLAH!!! I am as much a victim as any woman out there - just this evening I found myself in the grip of a baby fit of jealousy, but then I rethought my position. Why be jealous? There must be something special about me, or we wouldn't even be here. So just a little note to all of you women out there who might find themselves in the same position: do you. Don't let the past get your blood pressure up. Homegirls are homegirls, and lady friends are lady friends. Know your role, and remember: green eyes really aren't all that sexy.