Friday, September 28, 2012

It's in His Kiss

Oh dear! Scrunchie! Scrunchie! Scrunchie! I shake my head.

As she walks past Desk#1 after the morning pleasantries she stops and immediately whines, "I'm exhausted too. I went on a date last night. He took me to dinner and he kissed me. I don't like the way he kisses. It's all," she wiggles her finger tips in front of her mouth and squinches up her face. "He wants to take me out again tonight...I just don't know!"

I tried to explain to her, "This was y'all's first kiss. Sometimes first kisses are bad. Maybe you've gotta teach him how you like to be kissed?"

I was not able to convince her, she poo-pooed my optimistic outlook.

Then as she is walking away and since she complains, whines, cries and moans about money and how with all of her bills she cannot afford to eat I holler out, "Hey Scrunchie! A girl's gotta eat," meaning, at least you are getting a free meal from a nice restaurant. "A girl has got to eat!"

Later in the morning she divulges more information about the good-night kiss. "He grabbed me up," mimicking her hands like a man rubbing up and down the back of an imaginary person who is standing in front of her. "He wouldn't let go, rubbing all on me."

"Well, he saw what he wanted and went after it."

"He was obviously hungry."

I giggle and begin to sing, "If ya wanna know if he loves you so it's in his kiss."

Her entire head turned bright red. We laughed.

She said, "Yeah, you're right. I could go out with him tonight and get a decent meal. Maybe I should just wait until next week to tell him I'm not interested in pursuing a relationship with him."

Later I call her back to Desk#2, "Hey! Come listen to this!"

I click play on YouTube. The Crystals sing "Then He Kissed Me." Scrunchie sang along with the song.

I quit goofing around and go back to work. Her cellphone rings the standard Sprint tone.

She looks at the phone's display, exasperated she huffs, "Hrmmmph! It's him!"

She sneaks off to have a private conversation. Upon her return she says, "He's so clingy! He called to tell me he is excited to see me tonight. I can't deal with this."

"Seriously! You are mad because he called to confirm plans with you and he is looking forward to spending time with you. He just said he can't wait to see you. He wants to see you. He's being nice!" I'm dumbfounded.

At this moment that man earns a soft spot in my heart. He reminds me of J-squared. Even though we've been dating for over a year J-squared still calls before dates to confirm and to express excitement in seeing me. Swoon! He has got home training.

I explain this to Scrunchie. I tell her that a nice guy with manners calls. He does not just show up unannounced and honk from the driveway for you to come outside to meet him. Somebody that is interested in you is polite and courteous.

Scrunchie mutters, "Well, I'm not used to being treated nicely."

I can't stop myself, "Maybe it's damn time you change that."

We take the conversation back by Desk#2, joking I tease her with a warning, "Scrunchie, you know after the third date you hafta put out."

We get a really good laugh out of this.

I explained those are definitely not my standards but extremely skeezy men will expect favors in exchange for supper. I suspect her date is not like that; yes mainly because he called to confirm. Secondly, he's a University English professor. If he wanted to be skeezy he would hit on the 18 year old girls, not date a 52 year old woman. Plus, I hold the English Department to a higher standard. I just do.

Scrunchie is now walking around the office humming the Shoop Shoop Song. For the first time in a long time her humming isn't annoying in the least.

Good luck on your second date tonight Scrunchie!

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Body Image Perception



I'm sitting here agonizing and brewing over a full-body photograph I posed for this past weekend. I know my favorite jeans are becoming a tad tight. Alright! Alright! They are already too tight! They barely button and when they do it leaves deep, red marks, mapping a trail of this past summer of excess and the tell-tale signs of being happy and in-love in my soft, squishy, pale skin.

To my surprise, shock and disgust I am rounder and shaped like a Ripley tomato with a giant round head, arms, and legs wearing awesome shoes. Wait! Are those jowls forming on my face? Instead of wallowing in a tub of Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby - gurgle-gurgle, gaw do I love Chubby Hubby - I have got to motivate myself and be accountable.

To anyone that knows me it's obvious that I have a weight issue. My weight fluctuates; it always has. I fight or deal with it for as long as I can remember. It's a good thing I have such a pretty face, a charming personality, and funny disposition. How many of us fat girls haven't been given those clich├ęd backhanded compliments?

The good times, or 'skinny days,’ are measurable by more face time in front of a camera and then there's the rest of the time that I'm grateful that I'm the one behind the camera. Be damned you inventors of the camera phone! I know there are others of you that also follow this prescribed method of avoidance. On social media sites I see a lot more photos of your birth canal's little blessings rather than the awesome Mommies I attended with in grammar school. Well except for that one chick from my high school that does Cross Fit, her photos are amazing. Yeah, her! Her photos make my soft, fleshy core quiver in fear and jealousy.

I see how my personal body image and low self-esteem are affecting Phaedra, J-squared's youngest. Phaedra mimics the things I say and mirrors my actions. It's pretty damn eye-opening when a flat-stomached, 12 year old girl pounds on her 'belly' like a drum and repeats something that has come out of my mouth multiple times. I take note of her comments and have stopped making disparaging comments about myself. I try to internalize my personal negative comments or at least keep them out of the ears of impressionable babes.

Within the past few months her comments are exceedingly more frequent. Ignoring them is not helping. I feel like I'm responsible for breaking her self-esteem without even making a comment about her. Focusing on my flaws is damaging her 12 year old ego with the potential to last a lifetime.

This disappointment and low self-esteem in myself makes me a horrible role model. However, it also makes me the perfect candidate to turn it around in myself and her. I'm leading by example. I promise I'll stop referring to my excessive roundness as the Ripley tomato-shaped girl. I'm beginning an exercise regime and a lifestyle change. So long Ben & Jerry. For the rest of you who have an amazing self-esteem with an abundance to share, as her primary female role model how do I focus Phaedra's natural instinct into loving herself no matter how she may think she looks?

As for me, who'd like to join me on the Greenline or at a local track at 5:45am tomorrow morning?

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Sweet-Sweet



Yesterday as my sweet, sweet coworker was packing up her personal belongings on her next to last day of work I couldn't help but to tear up.  She's leaving.  She got in, got out, and is moving on.

I'm beyond grateful for her patience, understanding, grace, and encouragement.  She focuses on strengths of individuals and turns eccentricities into positives.  She's humble.  Lord is she humble! If you compliment her, she offers all of her attributes to the Blessings of God, "Because it's surely not me."  She's genuine. She's optimistic and inspires the best in the people around her.  More than once I've received unsolicited emails from expressing her desire and encouragement for me to go after my dreams.  She truly is one of the most beautiful people I've met.

I'm extremely grateful for her presence in my life and I'm ecstatic for her happiness!  On Saturday she's marrying her fiance and he's whisking her away to a new life in Louisiana.  Best wishes Sweet-Sweet and congratulations to your groom!

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Arrest Warrant



Uh-oh! I'm in trouble! I was minding my own business, going through and purging my belongings.

My Mom comes to me and says, " I Googled your name last week."

I laugh, "Yeah! You find my arrest warrant?"

"Yes. You should've been here when I saw it. I screamed your name so loud! Then yelled, 'What the f*ck is she trying to hide from me? This must be why she's laying low!' Then I clicked on the link. It was a picture of a Black man! And he's from Memphis! With your name!"

Watch out! She's Googling you next!

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Morning Warning



These people in my office with their joy, niceness, and singsong "Good Mornings!" Me with my bad mood, three hours of sleep from doors and cabinets being slammed all night and an alarm clock set to detonate at five-minute intervals, a headache, splitting ear aches, feeling underappreciated and unloved...then ready to leave early for work and having to get my car jumped off again this morning, which resulted in me being 10 minutes late. And, just finding out that the G(eneric)-Advil I bought last night in podunk Scotts Hill, TN is already expired.

I cannot go any longer without saying I absolutely abhor when grown women call each other, "Girl!" I cringe, every time. I hate white socks with anything but tennis shoes, roller skates, secretly underneath fashion boots, or for cold feet. I loathe cut-off jean shorts, unless you're hiking in the woods, you're a construction worker, or your name is Daisy Duke.

Perhaps after this first cup of coffee I'll be able to feel less like baring teeth and more like smiling. Until then, stay back and be quiet; I feel like cutting a b*tch.