And Her Husband

Eat, chat, drink, chat, chew, chat, yawn, chat. Well actually change every "chat" to "stare blankly" and you'll get an accurate description of my behavior at the lunch.

Maybe tonight will be better. I can't believe I just spent all afternoon making a bracelet and some earrings to match this stupid dress I'm wearing. Now I only have an hour (or less) to do something with this hair and... Ummm... Is that rain? Ummm... And why is it ten degrees colder than it was when I went into the damn bead store? Sonofa...

Fantastic. Now I have to find something else to wear. But what? It's raining and I have to catch the train in less than an hour! Fine... This suit, these shoes, this purse. **wailing** but my hairrrrr!!! Screw it. Money? Check. ID? Check. Umbrella? Check. Tickets? Check. You sure? Dammit, I said check!

Well now I'm thoroughly soaked, despite my umbrella. My escort is similiarly waterlogged. And the train is late. This has all the makings of an A+ evening. We make it to Penn Station by 7:25, catch a cab to the theatre, and make it inside as they are flickering the lights. "Hey." "Oh you guys made it!". "This is... This is..." "Nice to meet you.". "Pleasure.". Tiny theater, very intimate. Lots and lots of much older white couples. **sigh** Wish we could make it out to support something other than the latest Tyler Perry softshoe. "Wow! These seats are amazing! Are we IN the play?". (Polite laughter). The lights dim, the crowd silences, and there, a mere 10 feet away on the stage is...

Laurence Fishburne. A+.

How I Met Your Mother

Damn my arm is klling me! I guess two hours spent painstakingly flat ironing my hair will have that effect. Remind me why I said yes to this little agreement again? I didn't want to then, and I most assuredly don't want to now. But once again, my mouth (and curiosity) have written a check that my ass can't cash. **sigh** Now what to wear? Dress? No. Too pressed. Raspberry suede pumps? Looks like rain. Jeans or slacks? Short sleeves or long? Jacket, no jacket? Fuck it!! This is it. I'm out.

Yes! It's 12:26 and I found a parking space in the garage! Now I have four minutes to lay in the cut and see if I can spot her before she spots me. Whew- these shoes are 10.0 on the fabulosity meter and -13 on the "I'm walking a city block" scale. Wait... There she is! That is definitely her. I'd recognize that red hair anywhere. Casual chic. Black and white print jacet, black pencil trousers that stop at the ankle, black mules, red purse. Not too shabby. Well I guess I'll keep the pace behind her; maybe she'll see me in her periphery. Wait- she's going to the restroom... Guess I'll grab a table. I really should assess the damage that the Hudson River windstorm did to my hair. Whatever... It is what it is. Shit! She sees me! She's coming over!

**wave**

And that, boys and girls, is how I met Maureen.

WALK WALK WALK!!!!

So guys.... I figured that it was time to stop with all the frivolous posts about books and pharmacy bullshit and hit yall up with some real deep, depressing stuff.

**pregnant pause**

Kidding. I am not really in that deep, dark kind of mood. But I do want to talk about something that is serious to me. On October 4-5, my friend Kelly and I will be participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer here in New York City. For two days and almost 40 miles, we will be walking to honor the women in our lives who have struggled against cancer.

As team Living Legacy


we will be representing our friends and families in support of a very worthy cause. So..... of course at the end of the line (like it always is with me!), this is about money. I am asking for your contribution to help our team to not only meet the fundraising requirement, but hopefully blow it out of the water!! Check out my fundraising page here. Feel free to leave a word of encouragement, or if you think that this cause is just as worthy as we do, then PLEASE make a donation. This weekend I will go and get my fresh brand new sneakers and START TRAINING (insert groan of pain and misery here). Say a prayer...

And a very PUBLIC (as public as it can be on a blog that is only read by about a handful of regulars!) thank you to the lovely ladies of Hampton University who have already risen to the challenge. SMOOCHES to Ash, Jameil, and Stacey!!!!

More Stolen Merchandise

1. Where is your cell phone? charging

2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? yes

3. Your hair? mess

4. Your mother? miss

6. Your favorite thing? dreaming

7. Your dream last night? forgot

8. Your favorite drink? margaritas

9. Your dream car? Range

10. The room you're in? messy

11. Your ex? Iraq

12. Your fear? failure

13. Your favorite number? 13

14. Where were you last night? home

15. What you're not doing right now? sleeping

16. Muffins? blueberry

17. One of your wish list items? success

18. Grew up at? Virginia

19. The last thing you did? IM'd

20. What are you wearing? sweats

21. Your TV? DVR

22. Your pet or pets? Stone

23. Your computer/laptop? on

24. Your life? unfulfilling

25.Your mood? blah

26. Missing someone? yes

27. Neighbors? Soror

28. Your best friend? Delta

29. Your work? HATE

30. Like someone? Yes

31. Your favorite color? Yellow

32. When is the last time you laughed? 11:00

Just Bead Yourself

Hmm... does anyone in my address book have a birthday coming up?




Probably not... but I had the day off today, so I had to keep busy. I kinda like this hobby... it's pretty :) I really should be catching up on my reading because I have been SERIOUSLY slacking lately. But I neeeeeeeeed a nap. Maybe later.

BFF's

All of my looooooove... my peace and happiness....

YAY!! My very best friend in the whole wide world crossed the burning sands into Delta land over the weekend. I stayed up all night putting the finishing touches on her gift basket (I REALLY should start a side hustle making arts and crafts).



OO-OOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!!

I went to Bead Yourself and made this bracelet in honor of my own tenth anniversary in Delta. There are nine pearls and there were nine of us. There are 13 pieces of red coral to represent my number. The reason why they are arranged asymmetrically (and YES, the woman at the store did not hesitate to point out to me that the bracelet had no symmetry) is this: there are five pearls to represent Malaika, Juanita, Kasharne, Shantia, and Holly. Then there are three pieces of red coral to represent #6-8 who dropped (losers). Three more pearls for Lottie, Charteque, and Tyffani, then one more red coral for #12 (biggest loser of all), and then one pearl standing alone for.... ME!!!!!! I really can't believe that it has been ten years already. **sigh** Happy birthday to me :)

Sunday Times

"Allow me to reintroduce myself: my name is O..."
-The Joy (in reference to President Obama entering a room to Jay Z instead of "Hail to the Chief")

I heart the image of that SO much **embrace embrace**

So anyway... I finished that second book by Maria de los Santos this morning. It was gooooood (not "gooooood" in a "FANTASMIC" sort of way, but "gooooood" in a "I'm searching for another synonym" kind of way). I guess as far as fiction goes, it will do- maybe beach reading or as a travel occupier. It's a layerd story about several women and their husbands, a woman with cancer, a supersmart boy with an unknown father... Good writing, good stories, just good. For the next one, I'm headed back to my old standby Jodi Picoult with "Second Glance."

Hmmm... I was driving to work this morning and saw a van with the logo of a company on its sad. The picture was of a dog squatting in a yard, and the caption underneath sayid "We take care of your business.". The name of this company? Dog Doody. Get it? Doody, duty... I chuckled. Then further down the same street I saw these really big ass birds on the side of the road, so I was like "what the fuck are those? Wild turkeys?". No sir... As I got closer I realized that they were standing in a nearly empty deer carcass... Vultures. Now THAT did not, in fact, make me chuckle. THAT made me want to vomit. **sigh** Nature.

I so desperately would like to go home.

Helloooooo, Mr. President

OMG.... I am ridiculously enraptured with EVERYTHING that features this man., but this (by far) is my absolute favorite thing to date.

IT'S THE 'RACK!!!!!

Post Script

It is never appropriate to be behind the pharmacy counter bawling one's eyes out, yet that is what I am doing. Know how I said I was going to read "The Last Lecture" this week? Well I did... Today. Everybody should read this book; you, you, YOU... Yeah, even you. Please buy this book. You'll want to prop your eyes up with flaming sticks just so you don't have to wait until tomorrow for the end. You'll want to read it once a week for the rest of your life. You'll want to read it with your husband, your wife, your parents, your children... READ IT! The meaning of life cannot be found in these pages, so don't even bother to try looking for it. But what is between these two covers is a conversation that everyone should have with themselves. A pep talk, an ass whipping, self therapy, communion with a higher power... It's all in these few pages. Randy Pausch is teaching me how to live even as he dies. In his story, I see clearly the things that my own mother was trying to do in her final months. Live not as if you're not dying, but BECAUSE you're dying. This, by FAR, is my favorite book of the week yet.

Library Time

Slipped this week on my reading... That book about the gangbanger was some ISH. I don't know what was expecting, but all I got was murder, drugs, money, more murder, guns, and WAY too much unintelligible gang dialect. **sigh** Again, maybe I set unrealistic expectations, and just because Essence magazine said it was a "must read" didn't make it so. But honestly, is it too much to ask for an honest, straightforward account of your life and how you turned yourself around without resorting to the stereotypical "Black literature" speak? **sigh again** I feel like I shouldve just watched Boyz n the Hood again.

Next up is "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. Since that's a short one, I'll commit to "Belong to Me" by Maria de los Santos also... I'm working all weekend!

Regret

**sigh**

Why didn't you call me? Well, maybe you didn't want to hear my voice; I kinda understand that. Okay, so why didn't you email me? I guess you just didn't want to. Or maybe it didn't even occur to you. While you were subletting your place and putting your things into storage and setting up your bills for automatic monthly payment, did you think of me? When you were running through your final checklists and triple checking your equipment, did my face pop into your mind? When you took your last backward glance at the airport terminal and tried to ignore the tears in your parents' eyes, did the ghost of me slip across your field of vision?

**sigh**

Probably not. But when I found out, I was sad; my heart cracked just a little amidst the criss-crossed scars from years ago. I'm worried about you way over there. Are you too hot? Are you eating well? Have you been able to communicate with home? Are you safe? Are you afraid? When you look into the eyes of one of your patients, do you see yourself? Will you be able to send in your absentee ballot? Will you miss your nephew's first birthday? Did you take your guitar? Do you get your morning coffee? Do you finally feel like a "real doctor" now? Are you okay?

**sigh**

I wish you'd told me. I'll pray for you every night and sometimes during the day. Be safe, okay?

Wednesday Book Update

I finished "Picture Perfect" by Jodi Picoult before I left for the trip. The verdict? Wife beaters should always be drawn and quartered, no questions asked. That is all.

No, but really... it was a good book. Starts with a woman who has amnesia, so she doesn't understand why she is walking aimlessly around Los Angeles. The book is about her discovery of her present and her identity... good read. When I finished that, I started "Plain Truth" by the same author. It's about an Amish girl who had a baby out of wedlock, and the baby was murdered. Did she kill her son? Did someone else? I guess we'll see.

Next book is "War of the Bloods in My Veins: A Street Soldier's March Toward Redemption" by Dashaun Jiwe Morris.

Fascination on the High Seas

Whew.... I am sooooooo tired. But not so tired that I couldn't pop in to see you guys before I fall into a coma for the night. I just got back from a cruise over the weekend and I wanted to put up a few picks (in lieu of a quality post!). My best friend's father was turning 60 on Saturday, so they planned a big surprise party for him with all of his friends and family from out of town on a cruise to the Bahamas.

Friday morning we got into sunny Miami (heyyyy Stace... I thought of you!) and headed to the Port of Miami to board the ship.


I was worried becase the weather report called for intermittent thunderstorms all weekend, and it was a bit overcast in the beginning, but no worries... by the time the ship sailed, the sky was beautiful, so I was able to get a bit of sun. We took this picture at dinner the first night.

I don't know why this is, but you never REALLY realize how tired, pale, and just plain worn out you look until you see yourself on film. **sigh** Damn you, Sony Cybershot!!

The next morning we went snorkeling; the water was RIDICULOUSLY choppy, so we called it quits pretty early on.

On the catamaran ride back, the guide pointed out some houses on Paradise Island that belong to Whitney Houton, Barry Bonds, Nicholas Cage, and Michael Jackson. Now THIS is how I want to live!!



We found some beach on the back side of the island and there was no one there to take our picture, so... we took it ourselves. Yeah, I know... we look crazy.

And here's one of me at the same beach.

There are some caves in Nassau (too afraid of the bats to actually go inside), but these are some shots from the safe side :)




At the end of the day, we went over to Atlantis and played a little Blackjack (boooo on losing money at the Blackjack table!)


The last day, all I wanted to do was sit by the pool with my latest book and work on my color acquisition (that's TANNING for those of you who are naturally more fortunate!). But instead of indigo skies and brilliant sunshines, all I got was this

Which brings me to this...

THE RETURN.

New Book

Well if I'm not consistent about anything else, I'm consistent with this. Finished "The Emperor of Ocean Park" this week... that was tough read. The author is VERY VERY detailed with his descriptions of Martha's Vineyard (and everything else); it really couldve cut down like 250 pages with that alone. But a good story, nevertheless. It's always good to read about Black people in plots that don't involve indiscriminant sex, drygs, and random violence. Give it a try if you don't mind a slow read.

I'm wrapping up another Jodi Picoult now, "Picture Perfect."

Keepin It Real

Okay, so I was just picking up the phone to call my grandmother to tell her the big news when I realized... there is no news.

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY YALL :)

SURELY yall didn't think I would say yes on the strength of THIS ring? No ma'am (or sir)... my potential hardware is much more fabulous. But I do apologize to the well wishers- you guys are sweet!

Update

**sigh** Damn... the end of an era.

My Megalomaniac Complex

If I ruled the blog world... hmm... I would soooooo do away with this task. It's driving me insane. There's nothing worse than saying out loud (or writing down) all the things I wish would happen and realizing that they never will. It's like envisioning the perfect wedding (yeah, I do it- so what?) or the most romantic proposal (yep, do that too- say something)... it NEVER turns out the way you hope. Anyway... enough of that. If I ruled the blog world, this is how it would be.

1. People would get a life. I mean a real life, not just the ones they watch other people have on television or read about other people having in their blogroll... a real live life. The kind of life where you go out and do things and see people and experience stuff and THEN come home and write about it. Not the kind of life where you just sit at home (or work) and make up shit to write about so you can say that you've written. And then berate others for not doing the same thing. GET A LIFE, BLOGGERS!!! And then you won't give a damn that I have one and am not sharing the inane minutae of it with you!!!!

2. People would stop gettin BUCK on my comment pages and then getting mad when I return the favor. Here's a tip (that you might or might not have noticed in your skip through Moniqueland): I am not a nice person. Fundamentally, just NOT NICE. I do nice things all the time. I look really nice alot of the time. And to the people who trouble to get to know me on a deeper level, I break tradition and actually AM NICE to them. But I am not really a nice person. So don't get all indignant and shocked when I say something to you on your comment page that you didn't really want to hear. Because if you were soliciting one opinion in particular, then you should've said that and I would've stayed away. But when two people are as fundamentally different as you and I seem to be, you can'tpossibly be surprised when we don't agree. Brush it off (like I do) and keep it moving.

3. People would realize that there are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
**got that??**

SO many other things to talk about besides celebrity gossip, yummalicious food, fantasmic outfits, and what other people are or are not wearing to school/work/church/the bar, wherever. Now I don't mind if that is the stuff that you want to talk about- I'll just adjust my expectations accordingly. I won't, then, be disappointed when day after day, that's all I get from you. But all I ask in return is that you not be mad when others begin to view you as the lastest source for all things material and shallow. Yesssss, I do understand that life isn't really all that serious all the time. Yesss, I do write about what I wore to a wedding, what I ate at a birthday party, and how much I hate the people who choose to patronize my place of business... SOMETIMES. But other times I write about (and here's a novel concept): MY FEELINGS!!! I write about love and loss and death and life and disappointment and joy and memories and friendships and... I don't know; shit that people actually want to know. I thought that blogging was supposed to be a reflection of real life; a written interpretation of what people think and how they live exposed to others. I'm not saying that you have to give a daily recap of what angle he (or she) penetrated you last night or how much you wanted to run over him (or her) with your car when he left you or how you felt like your heart had been torn in half when your mother died (damn... maybe that shit just happens to me, lol!). But please, please, PLEASE keep it real. Let us in!! So what if we make jokes? Maybe that's our way of coping. So what if we read and don't comment? Maybe we don't know exactly what to say, so we just send up a prayer instead. So what if we know that somewhere in Philadelphia/Dallas/Atlanta/New York/Los Angeles there is someone who did something incredibly stupid? THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!!!! You aren't perfect, and I still hold out the tiniest bit of hope that you aren't that boring... so SHARE!!

That's what people would do if I ruled the blog world.

P.S. If you read this and feel like it applies to you, then it probably does. Don't sit around and dream up clever, yet hateful comments to post on my page. Just embrace it. Then make the requisite changes ASAP!!

I just wanted to give you guys a quick peek at the shoes that I wore yesterday to stomp out the devil, lol. These shoes are my liiiiiiiiiife!!!!

Wednesday is Bored Day

"Sir, by law the DEA number must be written by the doctor or pre-printed on the prescription."
"Well can't you just write it in?"

And so goeth my 12-hour day at the pharmacy.

"I'm going to send all of my patients to another pharmacy!"
"Okay, sir. I'll try to remember that every Friday morning when I'm depositing my paychecks."

Too harsh? Oh well... Blame the lemons. Or maybe it's the cayenne... Whatever.

I finished this week's book early, thanks to a very slow store. "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult was mainly about a man who killed his terminally ill wife after she'd asked him to end her suffering. There were some really interesting subplots too, but... Oh never mind. I write a terrible book review and you guys don't care anyway. This week is La's recommendation, "The Emperor of Ocean Park" by Stephen L. Carter.

Let's see, what else? Ah yes... Still drumming my fingers for the next task of Making the Blog. Although I can't really be sure if there's any need to continue... Our team RAVAGED the competition last week.

Eight more days until the Suntan Express sets sail- yay!!

Book Club III

Sooooo... it's Thursday. Yesterday I was supposed to post about the one woman book club (thanks soooooo much, Mini, for abandoning the ship!), but I honestly forgot. I finished "The Pillars of the Earth" yesterday morning while I was on the train on my way to the city. I kinda loved it. Better than liked it, didn't quite LOVE IT, but I kinda loved it. I deliberately didn't read anything about the book in advance, so I had no clue what the story was even about. I never saw Oprah talk about it on her show, and I tried not to even look too closely at the cover art for fear that it would give something away. Immediately, I realized that it wasn't my normal type of read (murder, mystery, crime, medicine, something dramatic) because the first section started in the damn 1100's in England. Umm... okay. But I gave "Braveheart" a chance and ADORED it, so I figured that I owed this book at least that much. Six days later, I finished, and like I said, I kinda loved it. The characters were interesting, the plot kept me involved... the only thing was the details about the architecture... had to blow past those paragraphs. I simply cannot get motivated about buttresses and spirals and carvings and... what? Oh I'm sorry, I just fell asleep for a minute.

Bottom line? Good book. A little long, but it never actually SEEMED long. I was done before I knew it and I wasn't mad about spending the week reading it. I recommend it. Next week, "Mercy" by Jodi Picoult.

Mindless Comedy

Television quote of the day:

"Okay Tina: bitch may very well be the new Black. But Black is the new President, bitch."
-Tracey Morgan, Saturday Night Live

Pastor's Rantings

I was on my way to the car dealership this morning to get my ar serviced, and I was listening to Miss Jones in the Morning (first mistake). They were talking about whether or not some comments made by a pastor in Harlem were appropriate in the church. Apparently this man was preaching his regular sermon and went off on a tangent about Barack Obama. By this point, I was all ears and very frustrated because they'd already played the audio and I'd missed it. I gave up and flipped to Steve Harvey only to find out that he's on vacation today, so I flipped back. And that's when I heard this (all letters capitalized to denote the amount of emphasis put on the words):

"Obama is a MACK DADDY! Obama is a PIMP!! All he does is pimp young big-breasted white woman and put them in tight tshirts and little shorts with his name written across their 54-DD's! That's what a pimp does! That's what Barack Obama does! That's the first time anybody ever heard his name? When they saw them on a pair of big ol' TITS!!!"

****errrrr??****

A pimp? A mack daddy? Seriously? I can only assume that he was making reference to the so-called "Obama Girls" who got popular last year (I think) on the Internet when they were supporting his candidacy. But honestly... 54-DD's? I just can't. A man of God is standing in the pulpit and sharing his political views (which although inappropriate, is well within his rights), but to say the things that came out of his mouth? It was soooo much. I'm still at the dealership now, but I'll try and see if I can find audio when I get homeso you'll see I didn't make this stuff up!

So Barack Obama is a pimp? Well... here's my vote, daddy.

Morning my beauties! Today is a day of rest... well, not really rest because I'm not off, but I'm working at a store that fills 25-35 prescriptions a day (in a 12-hour shift). In case you're wondering, that is very VERY slow, so... thought I'd pop in and say hello.

First off, virtual book club. "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult this week. I loved it. Couldn't put it down. To give you an idea of just how great I thought it was, I went to heaven yesterday (commonly known as Barnes and Noble!) and bought everything she has written (13 new books... yay!). Anyway... "Nineteen Minutes" is a work of fiction about a high school shooting in New England. Right off, you're probably either saying to yourself "that's too much for light reading, no thanks!" or (like me) "ooh... brave choice, let's do it." The characters are so real and relatable... even though I can't claim a memory of even a single incidence of childhood torture that this boy experienced, I felt his story... and I felt sorry for him. The book is a bit like the movie "Vantage Point" (if you haven't seen it, I recommend that too) in that it jumps around in time and keeps returning to the day of the shooting. But instead of confusing you, each trip backwards and forwards helps to fill in the holes of the story and you get a fuller view of the characters. I don't know... the very idea of a shooting at a school where I (or my children) go to school sends chills down my spine. But this book tells the story without seeming sensational and without making you feel like you've heard it all before. Check it out... it really is a fantastic read.. I started "The Pillars of the Earth" yesterday, so I guess that will be the book for this week... all 973 pages!!

Today is the 12th, so only 23 more days until the cruise, yay! I went to Old Navy last week when I went into the city (haven't been there in FAR too long) and saw all kinds of stuff that they didn't have in Jersey. So I bought some summer clothes which is SUCH a step for me because I do NOT wear shorts and stuff in the summer! I was a late comer to the Old Navy bandwagon, but they have such bright pretty colors this season and they carry my size all the time (a minor miracle in and of itself, lol), so I'm a fan. Bought shorts and tank tops and a dress and flip flops and... sorry! I love new clothes. So now all I need for my trip is suntan lotion and travel size toiletries (damn those airlines!!).

So Barack Obama won Mississippi yesterday... kudos. Also looks like they've credited the Texas Caucus to him... finally. Something about those primary results down there still doesn't sit quite well with me, but oh well... he wouldn't have come out much better with the delegate count anyway because the numbers were so close and Texas isn't a winner-take-all state, so... onward and upward. I heard the audio from Geraldine Ferraro's comments about Obama's candidacy this morning on the radio. Booooooooooo and hissssss. She's just bitter because she wasn't the woman who broke the mold and now she's hating on Barack for having a shot now. "If he weren't Black or if he were a woman of any color, would he be in this situation?" Umm... yeah. Heard of a woman named Hillary Clinton? She's in this situation. **sigh** It's a shame that prominent Democrats (even those who's time has passed) are hating on Senator Obama because he has developed such a following. A damn shame.

Yesterday was supposed to be the long awaited day that I got my shiny new red Blackberry Curve 8310 because my indentured servitude with Verizon.. I mean my two year contract... is finally up. But alas- it was not to be. Best Buy was completely out of SIM cards for Verizon and AT&T phones, so they were only able to do new Sprint contracts. **tear** So thanks to that and a little tip from Will Smith the wireless guy (his real name, I asked!), I'm riding out with this one until March 30. CURSES!!! I neeeeeeed the red phone in my life!

And lastly (for now), speaking of the color red: my best friend called and told me that she had her interview for the Sorority the other day... YAY! I've been trying to get her to join since she was a sophomore (I wasn't even in yet!) and her mom has been trying since she joined a few years ago... gotcha! I'm so excited that she finally slowed down enough to do it. **running off in a mad search for elephants and red stuff**

Book Club

Anybody remember Book Club? It was supposed to be yesterday, but I fell asleep, so.... done with this book. Now I'm starting "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult.

Barbados, Part Three

And so my trip to Barbados turned out to be the very thing I was afraid of. It didn't matter how fabulous I looked, how much effort I put into seeming like the beautiful, carefree girl he had fallen in love with. It didn't matter that he did end up coming alone. I ended up leaving alone. My heart was torn into a million pieces and I couldn't even talk to my best friend about it because he was the one who did the damage. The man who said he would never hurt me, the man who said he would love me forever, couldn't even look me in the eye and say hello.

So that is when I realized that it was truly over. No more mooning over old pictures and thinking about what could have been. He made his decision, and that decision was final. No more listening to the people who said that he'd be back; I just needed to give him some time and space. Bullshit. G was gone. He had been gone in his mind for a very long time, and I was the last to really get it. But I got it. So goodbye.

Barbados, Part Two

It is so beautiful here. Everything is so lush and green, the colors are so vibrant, and the people are so.... NICE. This is going to be okay, this trip is going to be fine. So what if the man that I love is coming in less than 24 hours, and I have no idea whether or not he is coming alone. He wouldn't do that, anyway, would he? He wouldn't bring a new girlfriend all the way to Barbados for his sister's wedding, would he? Not the man who never introduced a women to his parents before me... that guy wouldn't bring just any old body from California to Barbados to parade in front of his closest riends and family (and ME). Right? Well... guess we'll just have to see. But in the mean time, this Barbados thing is alright with me.

A few hours later, I have arrived at the hotel and taken a short nap. G's mom is my roomate for the evening until everyone else gets in and we move to the villas on the other side of the island. I spent the evening on the beach with my journal, crying. What the fuck? Why did I even do this to myself? This was the world's WORST idea EVER. I came all the way over here, and I am going to go home the same way I left: alone and broken. Well, at the very least, I am going to try. Everyone here knows that G and I used to be together. Most of his sister's friends have become my friends as well, so they're supportive. They all know how I feel about him, so they've resolved to keep us away from each other and me entertained until the minute I get on the plane to go back home. **DEEP SIGH**

I've done the best I can with tonight's look. Tight black capris and a black sequined top designed to advertise my limited assets while simultaneously giving the people "cocktail" and "elegant." Rhinestone sandals, silver hoops, and a black alligator clutch complete the look. Tonight is the welcome reception, and the first time that I will see G since he arrived on the island. I mingle a little, stop here and there and greet family members I haven't seen in a while; thankfully no one asks me about G. I go for a short walk around the property, pray by the pool for a bit, then head back to the party. And it's then that I feel him. Like a physical presence on my skin, I feel him. Before I even heard his laugh ring out over the noise of the gathering, I feel him looking at me. There's a heat between my shoulder blades like someone is prodding me with a blazing fire poker, but when I turn around, there's no one there. My heart siezes up and I have to touch the wall for balance because I know that he is here. Every feeling that I have tried to suppress for the last 10 months is suddenly bubbling to the surface, because I catch a glimpse of a light blue button up and khaki shorts in the distance. The crowd shifts and I see more of his beautiful bald head and his brilliant smile that warmed me so many cold days. He has arrived. I was determined not to go over to him; if he wants to speak, then he will.

But he didn't. A group of us left the party and went into town to have drinks and dance at a lounge. At this point, my nerves are so tightly wound that I think I will break if I bend the wrong way. But I still can't go over to him, I won't let him have that victory. I see him heading my way, and I brace myself for the impact. He gives the group a general hello and reaches out his hand to me for a quick squeeze. Ladies, you know how you see someone that you know vaguely as you are moving through a crowd, so you extend your left hand and briefly squeeze theirs? Yeah, like that. And maybe a quick, "Hey, how are you?" I really don't remember. But what I do remember is the pain, like a sudden and very forceful thrust to my chest. This person that I laid awake and watched sleep, this man I shared every single one of my hopes and dreams with, this man who has helped me to pick up the pieces of my life and put me back together again, just squeezed my hand and kept it moving. Like I was nothing. Nothing at all. Like I had never been anything.

And it only got worse. I gave what was possibly my best fashion performance EVER at the wedding. People I had never met were stopping to ask where I got my skirt, family members were crossing the room to say how beautiful I looked, even the older people were complimenting me on my choices. But all I wanted was for him to notice me. All I needed to make me happy was for him to look over and catch my eye and smile, just for a minute. Maybe to come over and say, "Wow Mo, you really look beautiful." No dice. He avoided me like I was a pariah. I had to watch him during the entire ceremony, so handsome in his tuxedo at the altar, so beautiful as he sang his sister's favorite song. My mind started to wander, maybe it was the Barbados sun, maybe it was my silly lovestruck brain, but I imagined the two of us standing before the people that we loved, exchanging vows of intimacy and forever. A tear escaped my eye as I thought about how desperately I just wanted one more chance to be to him the woman that he wanted. I pulled it together somehow before anyone noticed, but I don't remember much else about that night. I just know that he never came over to me, not even once, to say hello. He never caught my eye across the crowded dance floor and motioned for me to join him. He never looked, even for a second, like he even knew that I was there.

Barbados, Part One

"You are cordially invited to a union of hearts. The parents of NJC request the honor of your presence at the wedding of their daughter to Mr. JLC at four o'clock in the afternoon of May 6, 2006 in Barbados."

And that is where the fun began.

My ex-boyfriend's sister is geting married to the love of her life, and in order to be a part of the festivities, I have to spend five days and four nights with the love of mine. One caveat: I am no longer the love of his. Bah. Did I mention that this lovely little union will be taking place in Barbados. Sun, ocean, drinks, steel drums (I think), general debauchery. But no sex, though. **sigh**

As a quick recap, I dated G for a little over a year, but we were best friends since college. When we finally got ourselves together to try and make a go at a relationship, I was in school in Virginia and he was finishing school in Maryland. It had been clear to everyone who knew us that we belonged together, but apparently we were the last to get the memo. So after about five years of heavy flirting and some wonderful benefits to the friendship, we agreed to commit to each other and see where it went from there. Two years later, I was still in Virginia and he had moved to California, when he decided that "it just wasn't working." Umm.... okay. G really was my soul mate; I had loved him like I had never loved anyone else, and I was firmly convinced that I would never love another. But he didn't want any parts of me, and the more I pushed, the more he pulled away. So back to the wedding.

I was so torn up over whether I should go. On the one hand, this was the trip that I always imagined G and I would take together. Holding hands on the beach at sunset, taking naps in the hammock on our balcony, dancing until the wee hours of the morning at the reception... when his sister got engaged, we were still together, so this was going to be our trip. But now "we" were just "him" and "me." I loved him so much that it made my heart hurt, and I wanted to go to Barbados more than anything. But the two of us hadn't talked in months, and I didn't want to be that one girl at the wedding who was always off by herself crying and looking miserable. But I deserved this trip, right? I paid for it, it was a week before my graduation, and what better way to celebrate my pending entry into a whole new (and hopefully better) life? So at the last available minute, I decided yes. I packed my best bathing suits and headed for the airport.

Making the Blog

In case you're wondering, this one is under pressure. As a member of Jizzy's Making the Band (go Team Diva!), my first challenge is to write a three part story with "all the elements of a cliffhanger." Err???? This is much more La's forte than mine, but she's on my team, so maybe she'll make us proud. You know what- I'ma be on some real rebellious, fuck you, I ain't walking to Brooklyn to get you no damn cheesecake type shit... I'm only giving you two parts. So there! **nah nanny boo boo**

Part 1

I can't do it. Sorry, I tried. Honestly, I did. For two hours, I tried. And I got nothing. Please don't eliminate me Jizzy.

Saturday Night Live Plays the Hits

I saw a skit last night that was a parody of the Ohio Debate last week between Clinton and Obama. The premise of the jokes was pretty amusing, but one thing kinda rubbed me the wrong way: with all of the out of work Black actors in the New York area, why couldn't they hire one to play Barack Obama? They chose a white actor and slapped a little foundation on him. I guess that was probably the unspoken part of the jokes, but I didn't find that part funny. Anyway... I was looking for this last night as soon as I saw it on Saturday Night Live, but it wasn't up yet. Disregard the beginning few seconds because, to be honest, it's foolishness. But it was the only copy of the skit I could find on youtube. I thought this was HILARIOUS. Enjoy...

CHU'UCH!!!!!!!!!!

I went to church this morning. It's no secret that I wish that I could go more often, but with this job, I usually have to work every other weekend. Coincidentally, I have been out of town for the last two weekends I had off, so I missed church then too. Anyway, I went this morning. I have never been the person who was all gung ho about going to church on Sunday mornings. I grew up in the church with my mother, so it was really never a choice kind of thing. But when I got to be an adult with my own means of transportation and my own schedule, my church attendance started to slip. I am one of those people who is moved the most by the music; if the choir is good, it really doesn't even matter what the pastor is saying, I've got what I came for. When I joined Morning Star, I was really blessed to be able to get both. The recording choir here is amazing (and I'm not biased just because Bishop sings with them!), and the pastor is second to none. The church isn't too large, and I always leave feeling better than when I came.

So this morning, the choir sang one of my favorite songs by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers, "The Blessing of Abraham."

I SOOOOOO love this song. Now I have never been the get up and clap you rhands kind of worshipper... I grew up in the Episcopal church, so you can imagine how quiet and reserved that experience was. But there is something about this song that never fails to get me up out of my pew. So as if that wasn't enough of a message for me, I then got this song, also by Donald Lawrence and his choir called "Bless Me..."

So I had to ask myself, what is this inheritance that I love to sing about so much? What is it that the Lord has in store for me? And when I am praying for him to enlarge my territory, what exactly is it that I want? That's my problem... I am afraid that my inheritance might have passed me by and I wasn't paying attention and missed it.

There was a point to this post; I started off with a very specific message, but it's gone now. I'll just leave you guys with some songs that inspire me with the hope that they will do the same for you.

"Encourage Yourself" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers

"Giants" by Donald Lawrence and the Tri-City Singers

"For Every Mountain" by Kurt Carr and the Kurt Carr Singers

"God Blocked It" by Kurt Carr feat. Yolonda Adams

"Yesterday" by Mary Mary

"Can't GIve Up Now" by Mary Mary

It's Friday!!

I guess that when you want to lose weight, all you can do is think about food. So another day, another post about what I want to eat. Tonight I'm having sushi compliments of Fujiyama Mama and a lovely little cheap ass bottle of wine that I found on my quest for the mysterious Nuvo that I hear about all the time on the Wendy Williams Experience. I really cannot understand why I can't seem to find this anywhere; I'm starting to feel like it is a figment of my overactive imagination! But at any rate, that's what's for dinner.

Today is Friday, I have the weekend off, and it is supposed to snow again tonight, so I have lots of hours of uninterrupted television watching and reading ahead of me. Hope you guys have a good one!

Bon Apetit

I wish I could say that I have been trying to lose weight, because I haven't. Not at ALL. But I really would LOVE to drop some major pounds; now if only they would meltaway on their own! Today I got inspired to cook something moderately healthy for dinner, so I consulted my favorite easy to follow chef: Rachel Ray. So tonight we're having (well, we actually already had) Crab-Stuffed Portabellos and Citrus-Mustard Dressed Greens.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

The crab stuffing turned out a little less solid and dry than I would have expected, but it was oh so good. And the citrus dressing for the salad was FANTASTIC. It had me looking through the grocery store for 20 minutes looking for some freaking lemon curd, but it was so worth it. I also made some biscuits with something else I found while trolling through the grocery store for that damn lemon curd: pumpkin butter. Now I was late to the bandwagon with the apple butter because it always looked so nasty to me whenever I saw people eating it with their biscuits at Cracker Barrel (one time for Jefferson Avenue in Newport News!!). But I came around one day, and now I'm addicted, so when I saw the pumpkin butter next to it today in the grocery store, I simply HAD to try. Fantasmo.

Good eats.

Breaking News

If you're a member of the Blogger Familia Book Club (or whatever our lame ass group of readers is called), listen to this. Since I only know of one (two?) people who participate in this little venture, it probably won't mean much. But oh well... it was an announcement.

Wowwwwww

Another day off, another day of television... damn, I need a new hobby! While I was catching up on my DVR, I was watching this show that comes on MTV called America's Best Dance Crew. When I first saw the commercials for this, I thought it was gonna be wack because it's a Randy Jackson show. BUT..... I watched one episode and I was HOOKED. There is this one dance crew who does all of their routines on skates. They aren't as good technically as some of the other crews, but because they're on skates, it looks CRAZY hot. Check them out...


There's this Asian crew that is FIRE... who knew that Asian people had this much rhythm? They kill it every week, but here is their latest performance...


There's this all male crew called Status Quo who hasn't been doing very well, but somehow they manage to get saved every week. Last week this one guy injured his ankle and was told by ALL the doctors not to perform this week. But they were in the bottom two and had to battle another group to stay in the game. The trick for them was that they had to perform part of their routine upside down, and their song was Soulja Boy. Okay.... the guy with the bum ankle is the one who is jumping OVER the kid who is acting as the jumprope. FIRE.


The best crew on the show according to the judges every week is this group of guys called JabbaWockeez They really do kill it every week.


But the real reason for this post was another crew on the show. They are called Live in Color, and it's a group of young Black guys and girls who dance like FIRE. HOWEVER... every week the crews dance and the judges throw in a little twist to their routines. This week Live in Color had to dance to DJ Unc's "Two Step," and the trick to their routine was that they had to change clothes in the middle of the dance. Cool... they were all dressed in blue and yellow. Cool. But one of the guys had on a Sigma Gamma Rho tshirt. To his credit, the bottom of the Rho was cut off, so it looked like... I don't know. Errrrrrrrr???? Is that some new shit like the MIAKA's or that Delta fraternity **snicker** down in Texas? At first I figured, "okay, maybe he will be the one switching his shirt with one of the girls." Umm.... not so much. He rocked that bad boy the ENTIRE time. Priceless.

I Smoked the TV, Momma!!!

Oh how I wish that I didn't have to work on Sundays. When I was hired, I SPECIFICALLY told my boss that Sundays were for church, and that I would happily work more of ANY other day just so that I don't have to work on Sundays. What happens? TODAY HAPPENS. Welcome inside the world of a retail pharmacist in a small New Jersey chain pharmacy. ENJOY!!!

Listen

Okay, I don't honestly remember what today's voice post is about, but I wanted to put at least a few words here because I hate seeing that ugly gray and yellow thing across my blog when I am recording.

Oh The Weather Outside is Frightful!!!

Hey guys, not many words today. Just that I, once again and as usual, HEART BARACK OBAMA!!!!!

I woke up this morning to about six or so inches of snow on the ground, on the steps of my house, on my car... well, you get the point. If you want to hear my dismay live in color, check out my voice post here or just listen on the little red widget at the bottom.

Okay... more "In Treatment," and then beddy bye for work tomorrow. Maybe I'll call you guys from work. **ooh!! ahhh!!! pharmacy post!!!** LMFAO!!

Television, Politics, Books, and Family

Evening, guys... another day off, another 24 hours of complete lack of productivity. I guess I should enjoy it since I have to work through the weekend, huh?

Is it just me, or was the season finale of Nip/Tuck pure GARBAGE? I just watched it on DVR, and I was sooooooo disappointed. Granted, this season as a whole has been pretty drab, but the crazy stalker fake agent lady with the Arthur the Aardvark glasses stabbing Sean in the back in the las scene? Not so much, and tres predictable. Oh well, as many of you are probably saying to yourselves: it's just television, Mo. Chill. Okay, chilled.

But speaking of television, raise your hands if you plan to watch Barack Obama roll over Hillary Clinton yet again, my bad, the Democratic Presidential candidate debate.

**waving both hands in the hair**

ME, ME , ME!!!!! According to my CNN countdown, it will be on in 49 minutes and 17, 16, 15 seconds. SI SE PUEDE!!!

I feel strange, guys. This whole thing with my birth parents is so... strange. I don't want anyone to think that I am not grateful to have found them or that I feel any kind of animosity toward either party. It's just that I really don't feel anything at all. Because I didn't enter into the search with any expectations or holes that needed to be filled, I don't feel any differently now that I have located them. John asked me today how I felt now that I have "had time to digest the whole thing." Honestly? I feel like someone who has just read a really interesting story and who wants to tell everyone she knows (plus Oprah) about it. I'm not excited. I'm not overwhelmed. I'm not happy. I'm just.... the same. As far as I can see, Maureen and John are interesting people with interesting lives and an interesting history that somehow is intertwined with mine. Would I like to learn more about them? Sure. Would I like to meet more of this so-called family of mine? Sure, why not. But not because I just can't wait to add to my collection of cousins, aunts, and uncles. Just because they will be more interesting people to add depth to the story. **sigh** I accuse people all the time of being emotional cripples, as if I am some deep, insightful, empathetic person who feels everything and tunes into everyone. Not so much. I am just a woman who met two new people who, through some biological twist of fate, happen to be my parents. I was thinking that maybe I am so nonchalant because, at least as far as Maureen is concerned, she is white, and you all have to know by now that I am not the biggest fan of white people. I grew up in a Black family with Black friends in Black churches and in the shadow of Black idols.... it is so weird to be connected by blood to this white woman from Ohio. Again, no offense is intended here... I just feel disconnected. And as for John... well, I'll choose my words carefully since the walls have ears up in here

**hey computer geek nephew who found me online... how YOU doin?**

I like him. He is Black (yay! Score one for the home team), so that immediately makes the situation at least a little more comfortable. He is funny and kind of charming, but it's just that... he is so happy about this whole thing, and in a way, I am happy for him. But happy in a sense that is disconnected from the situation. Almost as if I am floating in the air above our meeting and taking it all in, but not really a part of the whole thing. He has wanted a daughter for as long as he can remember, but the difference is, I have had a father, and he is pretty cool. So this new father thing is taking some getting used to. But at the same time that I say to myself it's okay not to be all gung ho abouthim, I start to feel that tiny little twinge of guilt around my sternum... guess those are my heartstrings. It's kind of like what I say to people when they are excited about something WAY out of proportion to how I feel about it:

Okay, right now you're at like a 13, and I need you to bring it on down to about... let's say a 2. Mmkay? Thanks.

But I can't say that to him because he is happy and his sisters are happy and his mother is happy (I think) and.... well, you get it. Everybody is happy. Contrast it with Maureen's part of the world where the only person who is happy is her because no one else knows. Yeah- get at that.

Anyway... it's almost debate time, and my steaks are almost done, so... oh yeah, one more thing. Book club starts Sunday with Love in the Time of Cholera. So if you have it or want to buy it, and want to read it with us, you have 72 hours to get started. Smooches!

How I Spent My Day

I just realized that usually when I am off, I spend a large portion of the day Internet shopping and posting Couture Fridays (or whatever day it is) on my blog. Damn, I missed the opportunity today! Ah well... this morning I got up early and went to run an errand for Bishop and then I dipped by the gas station for some Five Cent Off Tuesday gas... yay! Up for $2.72 gas!!! After that, I came home and vegged out for a while. I caught up with all of the episodes of "Making the Band 4" that I've been saving on DVR. So many things to comment on, but I am so late and everyone else has been doing their recaps, so I won't bother. But my personal fave of all the episodes? BITCHASSNESS. Oh yes, my beloved bitchassness. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.... Diddy is sooooooooooooo right. Bitchassness is DEFINITELY an epidemic in today's society, and I have SO adopted it as my new philosophy. There will be no bitchassness in Bad Boy, I mean Mo's World. LMAO

So after a little television - no too much television - I left the house and went out to my favorite place: Barnes and Noble. HOORAH!!!! While at the lovely B&N, I picked up twelve, count em, TWELVE books. Here's the rundown:

Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Love Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers
Love in the Time of Cholera and Memoirs of My Melancholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
6th Target and 7th Heaven by James Patterson
Some Love, Some Pain, Sometime by J. California Cooper
The Color of Water: A Black Man's Tribute to His White Mother by James McBride
Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance by Barack Obama
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

I am sooooooo looking forward to breaking into this stack of books with my three new bookmarks. And my rib and I are starting a little book club, so I have somebody to read with me. Yay!

So here is the part of the blog where I live to regret it the next day. Blog readers: if you have read this blog at least five times, I am talking to you. You have read my thoughts, been a voyeur for my vents, and peeped some of my not so fine moments. So my question to you is this: what kind of person do you think I am? Now, YES, I do realize that you can't formulate any sort of definitive judgement about me based on some words on a page, and I am always the main one saying that people need to stop boxing me in because I made a sarcastic comment on someone's page. But this has a point, and I'll share it with you soon... what do you think about me?

Oh yeah, and please do listen to the voice post below... it's the story of how I met my birth father this weekend. **SPOILER**

My Sunday with John

While I realize that it appears as if I am now utter crazy, I promise that I'm not. But today is my day off, so I needed to fill up some time. I forgot that I hadn't told you guys the story of my weekend (or more specifically my Sunday), so... wanna here it? Here it go.

Mobile post sent by X Factor using Utterz.  Replies.  mp3

My Very First Utter.... Embrace It

I did it.... I jumped on the bandwagon and recorded my very first utter. **sigh** I really didn't have much to say, but maybe I will later.

Mobile post sent by X Factor using Utterz.  Replies.  mp3

Long As I Live...

Yesterday was my one day off this week, so I spent it doing what I do best... sleeping and eating. Well, I did do a few loads of laundry in between all that, lol.

I was sleeping around 5 when my girlfriend called to ask me if Eric and I wanted to go to Atlantic City to see Avant and Carl Thomas? Not really. Do I want to pay for the privilege when I have to get up for work the next day at 6 a.m.? No ma'am. But the tickets were free and I didn't have to drive because we had a limo. Umm.... did you ask me if I wanted to ball out to Atlantic City and spend only a few dollars to tip the driver? Yes, please.

So I put on my best "I no longer have to dress like a whore to get attention because I'm 30 years old and love myself" tank top and skinny jeans with my black crocodile peeptoe pumps and my brand new matching bag (go pharmacy!), pulled my hair back into a clip, and climbed into the party-mobile.

**disclaimer: no, we are not the losers that you see pulling up to random parties in a limo with clothes from Old Navy. We only did that because her brother is this international poker player (who knew that we played competitive poker?), and I honestly think that he owns half of Atlantic City and maybe a quarter of Las Vegas**

Anyway... we get there and check into the penthouse suite even though we have NO intention of being there past 2 a.m. and drop off our coats. Then we walk over to the House of Blues and catch Carl Thomas right in the middle of "Summer Rain."

They'd started 90 minutes late, so our asses were right on time! Some ridiculously large man showed us to this cute little booth over the stage where I proceeded to drink Hypnotiq and pineapple (hey- us beige people drink Hypno too!) until Avant's set was finished. He was surprisingly good, but he looks a lot like Fifel the Mouse.

After the show we went back to the suite, ordered a gang of food from room service, and stuffed our faces. Then back to the limo where I promptly stretched out and fell fast asleep. Yay for two hour limo rides, good food, and free shit!

XSively Yummalicious

I hyped up the sushi from this restaurant a few weeks ago; one, because I am such a fat ass, and also because I was so excited about seeing my friends and linesisters. Well, this past weekend I went down to Baltimore for my best friend and linesister's 31st birthday party. Her sister planned this surprise dinner at XS downtown with several of our chapter Sorors and her brother and sister-in-law. I have spent a lot of time in Baltimore, but had never been to this place before. I caught the train down, so I didn't have a car. My girlfriend dropped me off at the resturant, so I had my luggage with me looking like all kinds of bag lady, and it was POURING down rain too! When I staggered into the resturant, I was looking around like, "what the hell is this foolishness?" It was a coffee shop on the first floor with a second level that had a few tables and chairs. My first thought was "I thought we were having sushi?" and I really wanted to burst into tears. But the restaurant was on the third floor, and it was jam packed. I'd bore you with the details, but the bottom line is this: GO TO THIS RESTAURANT ASAP!!!!!!!!! I had the Black Angel Roll which was shrimp tempura topped with lump crabmeat and black caviar and the Kamakazi Roll which was spicy tuna inside, eel, avocado, smelt roe, tempura flake, and eel sauce outside. **sigh** Best sushi I have ever had. EVER.

Here are some pictures of us at the resturant before we went to see the BEST COMEDY SHOW EVER (Chris Rock). These photographs finally reinforced several things: number one, I am half white. And that is the TRUTH. Number two, I need a tan. Yesterday. And number three, I am abnormally tall. Freakishly tall. Like some sort of circus animal. **sigh**

Tyffani, Charteque, and me (#11, 10, and 13)... the B.O.T.L. from Spring '98 :)

April, Tyffani, Charteque, Me, and Kim - lovely ladies of DST

No His First Name Aint Rocky. It's Barack; Mr. President, If You're Nasty

CNN projects that Barack Obama has won the Virginia primary. YAY! Good to see that my fellow Virginians are not completely ass backwards. If only he could pull a two fish and five loaves and win Pennsylvania, Texas, or Ohio.

A to Z by X

Award: In my room growing up, there was a trophy case built into the wall with glass doors and that special kind of light you put on art and stuff to make it look cooler.

Bikini: I'd love to, really, and I do... but it's usually not the best look for me given all this ass. I tend to stray toward the boy shorts and tankinis.

Character: Hmmm... Angela Bassett in "Waiting to Exhale" right around the time she struck that match and lit that cigarette.

Dreams: Not so many lately. But I had this recurring one when I was a child where my parents and I were in the car crossing the Hampton Roads Bridge. Something happened and we drove off the side of the bridge into the Chesapeake Bay and we all died. Great.

Eco-friendly: No. Sadly, I don't care that much.

Fashion faux pas: Late middle/high school when I was wearing those brown leather Bass shoes with the strings tightly coiled on either side and my jeans folded over to the side and cuffed SUPER tight. **sigh** Not interested in your input.

Goals: To be the woman that my children can look up to and my husband can love... forever.

Hidden talents: I speed read (honestly, it's not another "Lauren" thing)... my mom used to teach a speed reading class when I was growing up. The only thing is that a few days later, I can barely remember what I read.

Inspiration: Other people's success.


Jokes: I keep 'em but people don't always get them. I crack myself up, though I'm a bit of a cornball.

Keepsake: My mother's wedding rings, photographs, the handbill Bill Clinton signed for me when he was campaigning for President in 1992, stuffed animals, my mother's doctoral dissertation, blah blah blah... TOO MUCH stuff.

Liberal: For the most part.

Mom: Love of my life.

Nudity: SOOOOO uncomfortable with it in ANY setting.

Online surfing: All night long.

Perfection: I'm a Virgo, duh! It's a character flaw, I'm afraid.

Query: Err??

Reading: MY LIFE. J'adore books.

Song: Too many to list here. Depends on my mood.

Trip: Hampton this weekend. Cruise in April. South of France this summer.

Ultimate indulgence: Food.

Virgo: ROCK!!!!

Workout: Never. I simply cannot.

Xtra: This is wack.

Yuck!: Midgets.

Zen moments: Sleeping, reading when it's raining outside, playing with babies, buying that perfect pair of shoes.

More from the Foodie

Ooooohhhhhh.... I am such a foodie. So now I found this website on... the saddest part of all is that I don't even remember where I saw it. But whatever. The point is that I love cookies and this place looks like the real deal. YEAH! Valentine's cookies for me :)

(j smoov) keith sweat-nobody

I really just don't know what to say about this. I saw it on someone's Facebook page and, at the risk of looking like I'm promoting orn on Blogger, I had to post it. Umm... enjoy????

Foodie Chronicles

Rachel Ray was on when I was in the nail salon yesterday morning, and I saw her make this recipe for Roasted Ratatouille Pasta. I don't normally watch her show because to be honest, her personality annoys the shit out of me. But I do live her recipes, so...

This morning I chained myself to the gas oven that I still can't seem to master and made some Roasted Ratatouille Pasta. **sigh** YUMMO.

Wednesday

My life is boring, my life is interesting, my life is boring, my life is interesting, my... SIGH. I really do wish that I had something to blog about. I am two seconds away from soliciting you guys' opinions on blog topics because this can't go on for too much longer.

I'm really pissed because I just realized that the Duke-UNC game is on tonight, and I've missed the entire first half. Boo... hissssss.... LET'S GO DUKE!! That reminds me of this one time when I... oh, never mind. That was a long time ago.

The baby with the adult mouth kinda freaked me out, but the clown made it funny. Best line of this commcercial? "I really undestimated the creepiness."
Check out this video: ETrade.com



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I thought this one was pretty wack. Naomi Campbell looked like a bootleg Beyonce, and watching her dance was downright painful. This commercial would've been saved if it had just stuck with the lizards doing the "Thriller" dance.
Check out this video: Sobe Life Water Super Bowl Commercial: Naomi Campbell



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LOL

This commercial was the first one that had me laughing out loud. By far, I think it was the funniest Super Bowl commerical of the year.

Check out this video: Tide-to-Go Superbowl Commercial, My Talking Stain Ad



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GO BIG BLUE!!!!!!!

All My Children

So when we last spoke, I found birth parent #1. Now I have found birth parent #2. Bingo, bango. Easy as pie.

**SIDEBAR** Is it just me, or is Vanna White simply WAY too old to still be
turning light brite blocks on Wheel of Fortune? Sorry, I got a little sidetracked while I was typing this post. Carry on.

Monday night I got an email from Maureen saying that she was able to get John's telephone number and that she wanted me to say a prayer for her so that she would know how to have the conversation with him that she knew she needed to. Tuesday evening when I got home from work, she sent me another email saying that she had spoken to him and that he had given her permission to share his telephone number and address with me. If you're reading this and you got suddenly very dizzy, then you have a small idea what it's like to be me! It was all coming together so effortlessly that I could hardly believe it. I know I keep saying this, but it really does sound like a made-up story. But as creative as I am, PLEASE know that even I couldn't come up with this stuff.

John lives just outside of Atlanta. He doesn't have email (who doesn't have email in 2008???), so I could only contact him by phone or **gasp** write him a letter. Now that presented a bit of a problem for me. As caught up in all of this as I was getting, something about talking to my birth father on the phone made me stop for a second. I don't know... when you're emailing or instant messaging someone, if they say something you don't like or something that makes you uncomfortable, you can just choose not to respond to it. But when you're on the phone with someone, you're kind of stuck. I mean, what if he was mean or angry or... I don't know, whatever. Since I knew that the number she gave me for him was a cell phone, I decided to text him. I guess it was late and I didn't get a response. **sadness!** I won't walk you through every single step of the whole thing, but the bottom line is that I have spoken to him, and this is what I know.

He is not married, and he retired from the Navy almost 20 years ago.

**Second sidebar** Sean Combs in "A Raisin in the Sun," the television version? Anybody else got tivo, DVR, AND their VCR on standby for this little production?

Anyhoo.... like I said, he is not married. He was married when I was born and divorced shortly afterward. He was married again (I don't know when), but never had any children. In between the two marriages (I think), he had a child with a woman who now lives in the Chicago area. So he has three sons and five grandsons. He keeps saying how much he has always wanted a daughter to spoil and take care of, and how much he feels badly that he never had that opportunity. We didn't get too far into the story of him and Maureen, but he really does seem like a cool guy.

I don't know where this story is going or how it will end, but it really has gone a long way toward calming the nosy beast inside of me! Maybe more to come, but right now it is only 8:00 and I feel like I am going to slip into a coma. SO SLEEEEEPEEE.