I've never had a boyfriend my brothers like, until now.
Earlier this week J-squared tells me something along the lines that he is developing a bro-mance crush on MarineBrother. I rolled my eyes, totally unamused, "Seriously? Okay, we'll that's cool."
Yesterday evening after Family night supper and Christmas tree trimming J-squared and I are sitting around having a delightful conversation. He asks me, "What time on Sunday is Max's birthday party?"
Remember, Max is MB's son who turns two today.
I know for a fact I never told him about the birthday party because he loathes children's birthday parties. I was going by myself. I cut my eyes at J-squared, "How do you know about that? I never told you."
"MarineBrother and I have been texting." He said it so cavalier.
"You don't even have his number!!!" My mind was spinning. I wonder when they exchanged phone numbers? What else is J-squared up to that I don't know about?Then I remembered, "Oh wait, yes you do I was texting him from your phone on Thanksgiving when my phone died. He didn't even text me today! I haven't heard from him since Monday!"
This is what it feels like to be replaced.
This blog is not fitting for children, the super religious, people that do not curse, and those that object to partial nudity, primal urges, fornication, bodily functions, and selective morality. I'm just a single gal and a rowdy individual that loves to laugh. I'm accidentally sexy and Confidently Awesome. I kiss and tell! This is my life according to me.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Family
Well, well, well. This is a first.
I guess I should have known my parents are comfortable with J-squared & family at Thanksgiving dinner. Instead of being calm and very polite to get everyone calmed down for the champagne toast The Handy Man who is always reserved, raises his voice. He hollers, "Hey you people! Be quiet! It's time for the toast!" Instantly the breakfast room full of 14 people, two were absent, becomes silent. THM raises his champagne flute, "To family!"
I guess I should have known my parents are comfortable with J-squared & family at Thanksgiving dinner. Instead of being calm and very polite to get everyone calmed down for the champagne toast The Handy Man who is always reserved, raises his voice. He hollers, "Hey you people! Be quiet! It's time for the toast!" Instantly the breakfast room full of 14 people, two were absent, becomes silent. THM raises his champagne flute, "To family!"
Monday, December 10, 2012
Lunch with Bigger Boss
Out of a Bingo ball spinning raffle my name was pulled to have lunch with Big Boss's Boss. Tomorrow is the day.
Naturally, when I learned my name was pulled I emailed another coworker who was chosen a few months ago. I wanted to confirm that Bigger Boss doesn't eat the heads off of babies as I am forced to watch. She cooled my apprehensions.
Also, since my job is ridiculously strict I had to confirm my extended lunch with Nosey Supervisor. So nearly every day since I was invited to lunch with Bigger Boss NS has been suggesting outfits I should wear, "You know what outfit of yours is my favorite?" or, "I think this outfit of yours is appropriate..." I'd rather be apprehensive and speculate about my impending lunch by sending wildly imaginative emails rather than be subjected to NS verbally recalling and digging through my wardrobe.
We'll see. I just hope the heads of babies aren't on the menu.
Naturally, when I learned my name was pulled I emailed another coworker who was chosen a few months ago. I wanted to confirm that Bigger Boss doesn't eat the heads off of babies as I am forced to watch. She cooled my apprehensions.
Also, since my job is ridiculously strict I had to confirm my extended lunch with Nosey Supervisor. So nearly every day since I was invited to lunch with Bigger Boss NS has been suggesting outfits I should wear, "You know what outfit of yours is my favorite?" or, "I think this outfit of yours is appropriate..." I'd rather be apprehensive and speculate about my impending lunch by sending wildly imaginative emails rather than be subjected to NS verbally recalling and digging through my wardrobe.
We'll see. I just hope the heads of babies aren't on the menu.
Bar Brawl
J-squared, a friend couple, and I went out to dinner on Saturday night. After supper, I wanted to go home and crawl directly into bed to sleep. Reluctantly I went with the crowd and I had a blast!
We went dancing at the Electric Cowboy. Think Denim and Diamonds circa 1999. No really, the same people from D&D but 13 years older, plus younger beautiful people. It's a real meat market.
While I was on the dance floor with Nessa a former classmate came up to me. I hadn't seen him since we had class together two and a half years ago. I hugged him hello. We danced around a bit. I told him I was here with our friends and my boyfriend. I pointed J-squared out.
He danced back over to me a few minutes later to tell me that his girlfriend wanted to beat my ass.
For a hug and a fast dance I was being threatened to get my ass kicked. Wow! I felt like I felt like I was at a fraternity party. "Oh hell no! She wants to do what because I hugged that near stranger hello?"
I didn't do anything wrong; I'm not going to fight her already mangled-looking face. I thought, 'Well if she's gonna hit me she'll do it now when I confront her.'
I walk off the dance floor and over to were she is standing with friends. I tap her on the shoulder. "Hey! You wanna beat my ass? I don't want your boyfriend. We know each other as classmates from the University of Memphis. There's nothing there, we are acquaintances."
She glared at me and walked away. Instantly I felt sorry for her. I remember being that insecure in previous relationships. You can't force someone to be faithful.
A few songs later he danced over again. He told me he'd buy me whatever I wanted. I turned him down. He asked me to take him home with me. I shook my head no, "No. I'm not interested. I have a boyfriend." He raised his voice above the music, "I wanna do nasty things to you."
What is this former classmate thinking? I've never even looked at him sideways. We were not even paired as partners in the group projects. Does he suspect that just because he wants to do nasty things to me that I'll instantly lose my mind and my pants? That I'll think, 'Oh, okay. 'Nasty things' sounds like an acceptable proposition. 'Nasty things' sounds like a good enough reason to throw away my relationship and leave my boyfriend who I pointed out to you earlier and right now is across the bar clearly watching you.' Does that line really work on any woman over the age of 22? Or just the slutty chicks he beds? Seriously! We are in our thirties! Come up with a new approach.
I shook my head no. I left him on the dance floor.
Yep, I still have it! However, as flattering as it was to have the former classmate hit on me, it's sexier that J-squared is confident in us and our relationship. The best thing about when situations like this arise is that J-squared never puffs his chest out and acts like a jealous gorilla marking his territory. Confidence, security, and trust are sexy. I'm glad we have those. But, I can't blame that girl, I'm Confidently Awesome and if I were her I'd want to beat my ass too.
We went dancing at the Electric Cowboy. Think Denim and Diamonds circa 1999. No really, the same people from D&D but 13 years older, plus younger beautiful people. It's a real meat market.
While I was on the dance floor with Nessa a former classmate came up to me. I hadn't seen him since we had class together two and a half years ago. I hugged him hello. We danced around a bit. I told him I was here with our friends and my boyfriend. I pointed J-squared out.
He danced back over to me a few minutes later to tell me that his girlfriend wanted to beat my ass.
For a hug and a fast dance I was being threatened to get my ass kicked. Wow! I felt like I felt like I was at a fraternity party. "Oh hell no! She wants to do what because I hugged that near stranger hello?"
I didn't do anything wrong; I'm not going to fight her already mangled-looking face. I thought, 'Well if she's gonna hit me she'll do it now when I confront her.'
I walk off the dance floor and over to were she is standing with friends. I tap her on the shoulder. "Hey! You wanna beat my ass? I don't want your boyfriend. We know each other as classmates from the University of Memphis. There's nothing there, we are acquaintances."
She glared at me and walked away. Instantly I felt sorry for her. I remember being that insecure in previous relationships. You can't force someone to be faithful.
A few songs later he danced over again. He told me he'd buy me whatever I wanted. I turned him down. He asked me to take him home with me. I shook my head no, "No. I'm not interested. I have a boyfriend." He raised his voice above the music, "I wanna do nasty things to you."
What is this former classmate thinking? I've never even looked at him sideways. We were not even paired as partners in the group projects. Does he suspect that just because he wants to do nasty things to me that I'll instantly lose my mind and my pants? That I'll think, 'Oh, okay. 'Nasty things' sounds like an acceptable proposition. 'Nasty things' sounds like a good enough reason to throw away my relationship and leave my boyfriend who I pointed out to you earlier and right now is across the bar clearly watching you.' Does that line really work on any woman over the age of 22? Or just the slutty chicks he beds? Seriously! We are in our thirties! Come up with a new approach.
I shook my head no. I left him on the dance floor.
Yep, I still have it! However, as flattering as it was to have the former classmate hit on me, it's sexier that J-squared is confident in us and our relationship. The best thing about when situations like this arise is that J-squared never puffs his chest out and acts like a jealous gorilla marking his territory. Confidence, security, and trust are sexy. I'm glad we have those. But, I can't blame that girl, I'm Confidently Awesome and if I were her I'd want to beat my ass too.
Friday, December 7, 2012
11/23/2012
Today is an unbelievably, spectacularly, extraordinary, special day!!! Today Phaedra turns 13!!!!!!
It seems like a short 16 months ago when I came over to the J-squared household for our first official re-date. Before I could put my Not A Minivan in park a little dark haired girl with giant doe-like dark eyes was standing next to my door and staring me down through my drivers side window. I opened my car door and before I could say hello she sings, "You looooove my Daddy!"
When I regale stories of her antics my mother says, "Even though she's not yours you deserve every thing she does." Boy does she sometimes embarrass me to no end.
A few months ago J-squared, the Little Rottens, and I made a trip out to visit the gang at Rossville.
Rossville is the location where J-squared and his high school buddies spent most weekends camping during their adolescent years. This group of men has evolved from being a group of high school friends into a brotherhood. To the Little Rottens this group of men, known as the Rossville Warriors, are all addressed as Uncle. The Warriors now bring their next generation out into the woods to appreciate familial heritage, fraternity, nature, and discover just who they are.
On this Saturday evening the Jeep is loaded up and we are heading to Rossville to break bread with the Warriors. I had not eaten all day, so by the time 7:30pm rolled around my blood sugar dropped to the point where I was quite intolerable. I was sitting around the picnic table with J-squared and the guys praying for dinner to be ready soon. From across the camp Phaedra yells, "You're being kinda mean Muffy. Are you about to start your period?" I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, especially when I saw the look of horror on the Warriors' faces.
There's nothing quite like estrogen invading the space of a testosterone club. What can I say? I take total blame for this incidence. In order not to frighten the girls with my female issues situation has forced me to be very open about them. I apparently forgot to discuss the appropriateness and timing of menstruation talk. That's why J-squared has a standing moratorium on certain words having to to with the female reproductive system and why us girls now have secret code words and sign language.
In 17 short months Phaedra has transformed from an 11 year old girl with stains on her t-shirts into a beautiful teenager with a fashion sense of her own. She's cunning. She studies everyone; she'll figure out how to take over the world one person at a time. Watch out for those big, dark, puppy dog eyes; they are her secret weapon. She is wicked intelligent and always one step ahead of the game. That contributes to her hilarious sense of humor. She lulls you in by being sweet, when you are secure she jabs you with the old one-two punch. She is sensitive, affectionate, and extremely kindhearted. She holds my hands, gives kisses, and shares hugs. I adore that sometimes when we watch television she'll crawl into my lap to cuddle. Phaedra is a stunning young lady with boundless potential!
I'm ecstatic that I have the opportunity to be a part of her life! Happy Birthday to my not so Little Rotten!!
It seems like a short 16 months ago when I came over to the J-squared household for our first official re-date. Before I could put my Not A Minivan in park a little dark haired girl with giant doe-like dark eyes was standing next to my door and staring me down through my drivers side window. I opened my car door and before I could say hello she sings, "You looooove my Daddy!"
When I regale stories of her antics my mother says, "Even though she's not yours you deserve every thing she does." Boy does she sometimes embarrass me to no end.
A few months ago J-squared, the Little Rottens, and I made a trip out to visit the gang at Rossville.
Rossville is the location where J-squared and his high school buddies spent most weekends camping during their adolescent years. This group of men has evolved from being a group of high school friends into a brotherhood. To the Little Rottens this group of men, known as the Rossville Warriors, are all addressed as Uncle. The Warriors now bring their next generation out into the woods to appreciate familial heritage, fraternity, nature, and discover just who they are.
On this Saturday evening the Jeep is loaded up and we are heading to Rossville to break bread with the Warriors. I had not eaten all day, so by the time 7:30pm rolled around my blood sugar dropped to the point where I was quite intolerable. I was sitting around the picnic table with J-squared and the guys praying for dinner to be ready soon. From across the camp Phaedra yells, "You're being kinda mean Muffy. Are you about to start your period?" I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, especially when I saw the look of horror on the Warriors' faces.
There's nothing quite like estrogen invading the space of a testosterone club. What can I say? I take total blame for this incidence. In order not to frighten the girls with my female issues situation has forced me to be very open about them. I apparently forgot to discuss the appropriateness and timing of menstruation talk. That's why J-squared has a standing moratorium on certain words having to to with the female reproductive system and why us girls now have secret code words and sign language.
In 17 short months Phaedra has transformed from an 11 year old girl with stains on her t-shirts into a beautiful teenager with a fashion sense of her own. She's cunning. She studies everyone; she'll figure out how to take over the world one person at a time. Watch out for those big, dark, puppy dog eyes; they are her secret weapon. She is wicked intelligent and always one step ahead of the game. That contributes to her hilarious sense of humor. She lulls you in by being sweet, when you are secure she jabs you with the old one-two punch. She is sensitive, affectionate, and extremely kindhearted. She holds my hands, gives kisses, and shares hugs. I adore that sometimes when we watch television she'll crawl into my lap to cuddle. Phaedra is a stunning young lady with boundless potential!
I'm ecstatic that I have the opportunity to be a part of her life! Happy Birthday to my not so Little Rotten!!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Pimp My Thursday
Today I'm pimping my friend's book. Yes! A book he wrote and it's published. That's Confidently Awesome!!!
Robert Thead is a beyond exceptional guy. I've had the pleasure to know him for the past 9 years. He has always had a kind word and a hug to share in times when they are needed the most.
I've had the chance to flip though his newest release, White House Christmas Tree Lighting. I cannot wait until this evening to sit in front of our electric fireplace, cover up in a blanket, sip on something piping hot, and read this short story.
So, if you get the notion, please download Rob's book today from Amazon.com. It's free and you'll be supporting a fellow University of Memphis alumnus.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00AHHAOH0/ref=redir_mdp_mobile/175-2644348-2619516
Robert Thead is a beyond exceptional guy. I've had the pleasure to know him for the past 9 years. He has always had a kind word and a hug to share in times when they are needed the most.
I've had the chance to flip though his newest release, White House Christmas Tree Lighting. I cannot wait until this evening to sit in front of our electric fireplace, cover up in a blanket, sip on something piping hot, and read this short story.
So, if you get the notion, please download Rob's book today from Amazon.com. It's free and you'll be supporting a fellow University of Memphis alumnus.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00AHHAOH0/ref=redir_mdp_mobile/175-2644348-2619516
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Tardy for the Party
Holy brown-word!!! I need a teleporter!!! True to Conway fashion I'm running late!!
When I hopped out of the shower I was in a rush! I pulled on the first pair of panties in my drawer. Of course they are of the sexy variety and not made for comfort. Let's just say they are now 'church' panties. Then, I pulled them up too high. I immediately shimmied on what used to be my fat jeans; now they are just my jeans. That's because I'm happy and in-love. I still have my towel on my head as I'm driving behind the slowest minivan in the universe. I'm furiously fighting an all over wedgie, which is only acceptable in thong panties.
If I'm walking funny today just nod in understanding. We both know what's going on.
When I hopped out of the shower I was in a rush! I pulled on the first pair of panties in my drawer. Of course they are of the sexy variety and not made for comfort. Let's just say they are now 'church' panties. Then, I pulled them up too high. I immediately shimmied on what used to be my fat jeans; now they are just my jeans. That's because I'm happy and in-love. I still have my towel on my head as I'm driving behind the slowest minivan in the universe. I'm furiously fighting an all over wedgie, which is only acceptable in thong panties.
If I'm walking funny today just nod in understanding. We both know what's going on.
Monday, November 19, 2012
A Homecoming Parade
Well fellow Awesomes it has happened!
Today is four days before Phaedra's 13th birthday and she has been asked on her first date. The boy asked her to the 7th grade Homecoming Dance.
Say a little prayer for J-squared's sanity, the Homecoming Parade of boys has just begun.
Today is four days before Phaedra's 13th birthday and she has been asked on her first date. The boy asked her to the 7th grade Homecoming Dance.
Say a little prayer for J-squared's sanity, the Homecoming Parade of boys has just begun.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
30 Things to Be Grateful
1. I'm grateful that when I die my friends and family will make the correct decision to only post flattering photos in my obituary.
2. I'm grateful for friends that will tell me when I have something in my freaking teeth.
3. I'm grateful for ice cream; I love that shit!
4. I'm grateful for shoes, all of 'em in my collection, and even the ones I don't own yet.
5. I'm grateful for yellow lights, without them I'd never get anywhere in traffic.
6. I'm grateful for soft t.p.
7. I'm grateful for padded bras in the winter.
8. I'm grateful that J-squared doesn't read my blog.
9. I'm grateful that my jeans are not ankle-beaters.
10. I'm grateful for Scrunchie, because as obnoxious as she is she's good for comic relief.
11. I'm grateful that you use deodorant.
12. I'm grateful that my job doesn't interfere with my social life.
13. I'm grateful that my parents never gave me a sister, I didn't have to share my shit!
14. I'm grateful for my sense of humor because I'm pretty damn funny. Well at least I crack myself up.
15. I'm grateful for those giant packets of individual serving sized ketchups.
16. I'm grateful for barley and hops.
17. I'm grateful for orphaned coins left on the sidewalk,
18. I'm grateful for self-flushing toilets because no matter how high they put the flush handle on a toilet I'm kicking my foot up there.
19. I'm grateful for Al Gore because without him you couldn't read this on the Internet.
20. I'm grateful for dresses because I'm too lazy to pull on a pair of pants.
21. I'm grateful that no one seriously annoyed the crap outta me today.
22. I'm grateful for stretchy pants.
23. I'm grateful for discount shopping.
24. I'm grateful for Pepto-Bismol and Imodium AD; nobody wants the fire-poops.
25. I'm grateful for extended family; the further away the more I'm grateful.
26. I'm grateful for fermented and crushed grapes.
27. I'm grateful for the bouncing red ball that hops from word to word in sing along songs. Without it I'd never be able to follow along.
28. There is such a thing as stupid questions, in those moments I'm grateful for Advil Liqui-Gels.
29. Because a sandwich would be pretty difficult without it, sliced bread is spectacular and I'm grateful it exists.
30. I'm grateful I'm not a Breeder because I like sleeping in on Saturday mornings.
2. I'm grateful for friends that will tell me when I have something in my freaking teeth.
3. I'm grateful for ice cream; I love that shit!
4. I'm grateful for shoes, all of 'em in my collection, and even the ones I don't own yet.
5. I'm grateful for yellow lights, without them I'd never get anywhere in traffic.
6. I'm grateful for soft t.p.
7. I'm grateful for padded bras in the winter.
8. I'm grateful that J-squared doesn't read my blog.
9. I'm grateful that my jeans are not ankle-beaters.
10. I'm grateful for Scrunchie, because as obnoxious as she is she's good for comic relief.
11. I'm grateful that you use deodorant.
12. I'm grateful that my job doesn't interfere with my social life.
13. I'm grateful that my parents never gave me a sister, I didn't have to share my shit!
14. I'm grateful for my sense of humor because I'm pretty damn funny. Well at least I crack myself up.
15. I'm grateful for those giant packets of individual serving sized ketchups.
16. I'm grateful for barley and hops.
17. I'm grateful for orphaned coins left on the sidewalk,
18. I'm grateful for self-flushing toilets because no matter how high they put the flush handle on a toilet I'm kicking my foot up there.
19. I'm grateful for Al Gore because without him you couldn't read this on the Internet.
20. I'm grateful for dresses because I'm too lazy to pull on a pair of pants.
21. I'm grateful that no one seriously annoyed the crap outta me today.
22. I'm grateful for stretchy pants.
23. I'm grateful for discount shopping.
24. I'm grateful for Pepto-Bismol and Imodium AD; nobody wants the fire-poops.
25. I'm grateful for extended family; the further away the more I'm grateful.
26. I'm grateful for fermented and crushed grapes.
27. I'm grateful for the bouncing red ball that hops from word to word in sing along songs. Without it I'd never be able to follow along.
28. There is such a thing as stupid questions, in those moments I'm grateful for Advil Liqui-Gels.
29. Because a sandwich would be pretty difficult without it, sliced bread is spectacular and I'm grateful it exists.
30. I'm grateful I'm not a Breeder because I like sleeping in on Saturday mornings.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Sitting on the Dock
I always wake up early when I'm at the cabin. Spending two and a half hours this morning sitting on the dock, watching the leaves fall, listening to the fish jump and the herons call to one another, devouring the fantastic colors of the mountainsides, feeling the warm sun on my skin, and making photographs of men spending Saturday morning fishing is good for my soul. I am unbelievably relaxed.
The men above let the current push their boat near to the dock. The man in the green waders asked, "Are you catching some sun?" I lifted up my camera and said, "Nope, I'm fishing for photos." It's the only thing we said to each other all morning while being in close proximity.
The men above let the current push their boat near to the dock. The man in the green waders asked, "Are you catching some sun?" I lifted up my camera and said, "Nope, I'm fishing for photos." It's the only thing we said to each other all morning while being in close proximity.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Art Majors
My amazing EngineerBrother has a degree with a double major in Engineering. Duh! When he was studying for his degree he'd sit at the kitchen table for hours writing and solving equations. Each equation required two whole pages of hand-written work.
One particular night he was working on multiple problems. Meanwhile, I was sitting across the room working on my Associates degree in art. I was completing a design project. I was half lying on a pile of pillows with the tv on, ripping pages out of magazines, cutting awesome designs, and gluing them to a background. I was busy just chatting away on the phone.
EngineerBrother got angry. He slammed his book shut and walked over to me. He leaned over and yelled in my face, "Not all of us can be Art majors AVERILL!!!" He stormed off to his bedroom.
Every time I think about that incident it tickles me. It takes a lot to get him worked up. Now he has an awesome career and I'm working in a shared cubical...
WHOMP-WHOMP!
One particular night he was working on multiple problems. Meanwhile, I was sitting across the room working on my Associates degree in art. I was completing a design project. I was half lying on a pile of pillows with the tv on, ripping pages out of magazines, cutting awesome designs, and gluing them to a background. I was busy just chatting away on the phone.
EngineerBrother got angry. He slammed his book shut and walked over to me. He leaned over and yelled in my face, "Not all of us can be Art majors AVERILL!!!" He stormed off to his bedroom.
Every time I think about that incident it tickles me. It takes a lot to get him worked up. Now he has an awesome career and I'm working in a shared cubical...
WHOMP-WHOMP!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Bad is Awesome
The good news is I put make-up on today for work, which I never do. The bad news is I only applied bronzer, in the dark, and I didn't blend it. So, when I got to work under the florescent lights I looked like myself in seventh grade with orange powder sitting on top of porcelain skin. For Halloween I'm a Jack-O-Lantern, not what I was going for, but okay. I guess.
When I came back from class this afternoon a student worker at the Ask Tom desk told me, "Say you look bad today."
"Umm, okay. I look bad today."
All of the students at the desk laughed. The debonaire student explained the phrase. He said, "'Say you look bad today' means you look good, really good."
I totally understand! "You look bad" is a 'retro' term from the 1980's, like Michael Jackson's Bad, which is awesome.
Look at that! I didn't even have to exhibit the Booty Bounce Walk. No! I just had to get up a half an hour early, straighten my hair, apply orange bronzer in the dark, wear tights, a fitted mini-dress, and strap 4 inch heels* to my feet for work. Wha-la, I look bad today and that's just awesome!
*For those coworkers that saw me at the Divisional Meeting this morning I temporarily changed into flats to photograph the meeting.
When I came back from class this afternoon a student worker at the Ask Tom desk told me, "Say you look bad today."
"Umm, okay. I look bad today."
All of the students at the desk laughed. The debonaire student explained the phrase. He said, "'Say you look bad today' means you look good, really good."
I totally understand! "You look bad" is a 'retro' term from the 1980's, like Michael Jackson's Bad, which is awesome.
Look at that! I didn't even have to exhibit the Booty Bounce Walk. No! I just had to get up a half an hour early, straighten my hair, apply orange bronzer in the dark, wear tights, a fitted mini-dress, and strap 4 inch heels* to my feet for work. Wha-la, I look bad today and that's just awesome!
*For those coworkers that saw me at the Divisional Meeting this morning I temporarily changed into flats to photograph the meeting.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Weather-gasm
I was sitting in my class, alright I excused myself from class and was in the restroom. When I went back to class nearly everyone had left. I was only in the restroom for a minute!
The proctor from Appling Road Middle School told us there was a tornado coming and we couldn't stay there. So what's the safest thing to do? That's right send 100 people out in the storm to their cars!
I made it safely to J-squared's while trying to ensure the safety of everyone in my family. Yes, talking on the phone in a lightning storm. Duh!
However, I wasn't planning on being at J-squared's tonight so I didn't pack a bag. Is that a Walk of Shame if I wash and wear the same clothes to work tomorrow that I wore today?
That's a weather-gasm in Memphis for y'all.
The proctor from Appling Road Middle School told us there was a tornado coming and we couldn't stay there. So what's the safest thing to do? That's right send 100 people out in the storm to their cars!
I made it safely to J-squared's while trying to ensure the safety of everyone in my family. Yes, talking on the phone in a lightning storm. Duh!
However, I wasn't planning on being at J-squared's tonight so I didn't pack a bag. Is that a Walk of Shame if I wash and wear the same clothes to work tomorrow that I wore today?
That's a weather-gasm in Memphis for y'all.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
A Good Show
In 1964 Elvis bought FDR's 'Floating White House' the USS Potomac. Elvis, being an extremely charitable man, donated the yacht to Danny Thomas to benefit St. Jude. The yacht was so old, difficult to maintain, and in such disrepair that Danny Thomas was not interested in keeping it. The yacht was put up for auction. Ever the Hollywood mind Danny Thomas put on a good show for the people and the auct
ion. In order to save money he only had one side of the yacht painted, the side facing the cameras for the photo shoot with Elvis.
That being said, please don't stand behind me today. If you do, please don't judge me. I'm not old or difficult to maintain, well perhaps a tad high maintenance. I'm not in a state of disrepair either. I only had enough time in the shower this morning to shave the fronts of my legs.
That being said, please don't stand behind me today. If you do, please don't judge me. I'm not old or difficult to maintain, well perhaps a tad high maintenance. I'm not in a state of disrepair either. I only had enough time in the shower this morning to shave the fronts of my legs.
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!
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 clichéd 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.