This weekend was good and bad. Good because we had a great time in Atlanta, the Saints beat the Panthers and the Falcons lost to the Packers. YAY! I got some good quality time with the Mister, plus some rest on yesterday. We launched the newest, hardest released EVAH on Saturday morning, and when I weighed last night, I was down 4lbs! Sweet!
So, on with the bitter. Sometimes being happy just gets tiring, know what I mean? I feel like I have to put on this happy face all the time and I am not doing so well with it these days. I'm not doing so well at all.
Mr. Mc and I were discussing the fall football games, and the Saints play the Falcons in New Orleans the day after Christmas. Mc wants to go. I do, too, but ya know, suddenly I was hit hard by the fact that we were supposed to have our baby with us this Christmas. It hurt. Badly. I thought I had been doing so well. Not anymore. I've cried the last 2, now 3, days. It's getting closer and I'm not sure how I am going to deal with it. I'm not sure I am strong enough.
I've realized that I have been consciously, or maybe even sub-consciously, filling my schedule with things, attempting to stay busy. Like, maybe I can convince myself that I was too busy to have a baby anyway. If I can stay away from home until almost time for bed, I am just too busy, right? If I never have a weekend free...
I am probably inadvertantly doing myself more harm than good. I know this is what the whole marathon thing is about. My knees are killing me, but still I run. It's like I want to punish my body for giving out on me before. Stupid, right?
I hate this. And there really isn't anyone to talk to about it. There's nothing that can be changed anyway. I'm a mess.
As the air becomes more crisp, the leaves begin to change and fall, and the football season continues, one thing becomes painfully clear.
We were supposed to have a baby this Christmas.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Dear God, What Have I Done?
I just announced on FB that I will be doing the New Orleans marathon for my 30th birthday. Darn FB. It is the root of all evil.
Yes, I have misplaced frustration. Can I do it? I hope so. Let the training begin. I gave up nachos anyway, so there is nothing else I want to eat. The marathon diet should be fine.
Yes, I have misplaced frustration. Can I do it? I hope so. Let the training begin. I gave up nachos anyway, so there is nothing else I want to eat. The marathon diet should be fine.
Two Texts and a Phone Call
According to Lo, that is the most effort a man should make in trying to determine whether or not a female is interested. His theory is, if a women does not respond to a man after two texts and a phone call, then she does not wish to have any further involvement with said male. Makes sense to me, I guess.
I am not very single-savvy, as Theo and I have been together since the ripe old age of 19, so I really have no clue as to whether or not this is a reasonable assumption. It sounds about right to me, though. Now, granted, I was a mere teen back when the last male persued me, but I recall being downright giddy whenever the phone would ring, hoping it was him. I THINK I had a Caller ID box connected to my dorm-room phone at the time, however, I am a bit fuzzy on those details. But I do know that I was hoping, wishing, whatever, that he would call - thus letting me know that he was interested, too. Texting wasn't really a "thing" back then, we did have our pagers, but I am pretty sure I hadn't given him that number initially. I will say though, I still get pretty excited to get a sweet text from Mr. Mc, 10 years later.
Despite my leanings toward agreeing with the Two Texts and a Phone Call "rule", I think perhaps it may be a better idea to determine the actual logistics. For instance, perhaps the two texts and phone call all occur on the same day, a day when the would-be recipient is out-of-area or the battery has died on the cell. What then? I know sometimes, depending on the network, I don't even realize I have a missed call unless the person has left a voicemail, which, based on my knowledge of Lo, doubt he would leave a voice message. What if I don't have a text plan? I know that seems kind of like cell blasphemy, but seriously there are people without texts. Like my parents. That annoys the crap out of me - sometimes I just want to text my mom instead of talking. Just let her know I was thinking about her. We found out the hard way that she didn't have a text plan. My dad flipped when he got the bill that month. FLIPPED. Dude, just get texting. He didn't. I digress. What if my screen is broken? What if I am on a cruise/plane/island? What if I dropped my phone in the toilet? There are just so many variables to consider!
We also discussed when is the appropriate time for the communication to occur.
SCENARIO A
Two young professional people meet at a social environment (bar, sports grille, lounge) on a Saturday night. Randal suggests that the "smooth" thing to do would be to contact the female and ask her to meet you (him) after church for lunch. This says to a woman, 1 - he goes to church, 2 - he is interested in seeing me again (and soon!), and 3- this isn't about sex (I personally think that this is probably the best way to get sex - to make it look like it isn't about sex).
SCENARIO B
Two meet at a social setting involving friends (holiday/sports/friendly gathering) on a Saturday night. Once interest has been established, the two will likely go to their respective friends to discover more details regarding the person of interest. Monday, contact will need to be established to perhaps arrange a meeting for later in the week.
This has never happened to me, so I cannot comment either way. According to them, these two scenarios are a typical meet-cute. Okay.
The conversation really didn't get anywhere because Kandis said that Randal didn't do either of those things and she ended up asking him out. And then they had a small tiff and I changed the subject back to what originally spawned the conversation in the first place -- me being through with J because I have been wanting him to show more initiative in wooeing women. Randal went emo for a moment, as he do. He's a cute little emo-boy, though. When he and Kandis get married and have children, as they will -- I have claimed it! -- I hope he has a little boy who goes emo on him like that so he can see what it looks like. Not that I want my little nephew to be emo, but you get what I am saying.
Back to J. He is such a great guy and I really want him to have a meaningful relationship with a woman. And I know a great one who is pretty and kind and sweet, but I think she is a bit reserved. And neither one of them is going to make the first move. Just go on a date already!
I think I am obessed with dating because I never did it. THANK GOD. Because just trying to get other people to do it is stressing me out. I would probably stare at the ceiling all night wondering why my 2 texts are and why I wasn't worthy of being asked to lunch on Sunday after church. So, yay for Theo and I getting to skip all that noise. I cannot imagine dating in the FB era either. NIGHTMARE! People go batshit when they see stuff like "in a relationship" or "it's complicated" as your relationship status. That is just so...nosy anyway.
Ugh, anyway, let me go. I need to send Theo a text. Or two.
I am not very single-savvy, as Theo and I have been together since the ripe old age of 19, so I really have no clue as to whether or not this is a reasonable assumption. It sounds about right to me, though. Now, granted, I was a mere teen back when the last male persued me, but I recall being downright giddy whenever the phone would ring, hoping it was him. I THINK I had a Caller ID box connected to my dorm-room phone at the time, however, I am a bit fuzzy on those details. But I do know that I was hoping, wishing, whatever, that he would call - thus letting me know that he was interested, too. Texting wasn't really a "thing" back then, we did have our pagers, but I am pretty sure I hadn't given him that number initially. I will say though, I still get pretty excited to get a sweet text from Mr. Mc, 10 years later.
Despite my leanings toward agreeing with the Two Texts and a Phone Call "rule", I think perhaps it may be a better idea to determine the actual logistics. For instance, perhaps the two texts and phone call all occur on the same day, a day when the would-be recipient is out-of-area or the battery has died on the cell. What then? I know sometimes, depending on the network, I don't even realize I have a missed call unless the person has left a voicemail, which, based on my knowledge of Lo, doubt he would leave a voice message. What if I don't have a text plan? I know that seems kind of like cell blasphemy, but seriously there are people without texts. Like my parents. That annoys the crap out of me - sometimes I just want to text my mom instead of talking. Just let her know I was thinking about her. We found out the hard way that she didn't have a text plan. My dad flipped when he got the bill that month. FLIPPED. Dude, just get texting. He didn't. I digress. What if my screen is broken? What if I am on a cruise/plane/island? What if I dropped my phone in the toilet? There are just so many variables to consider!
We also discussed when is the appropriate time for the communication to occur.
SCENARIO A
Two young professional people meet at a social environment (bar, sports grille, lounge) on a Saturday night. Randal suggests that the "smooth" thing to do would be to contact the female and ask her to meet you (him) after church for lunch. This says to a woman, 1 - he goes to church, 2 - he is interested in seeing me again (and soon!), and 3- this isn't about sex (I personally think that this is probably the best way to get sex - to make it look like it isn't about sex).
SCENARIO B
Two meet at a social setting involving friends (holiday/sports/friendly gathering) on a Saturday night. Once interest has been established, the two will likely go to their respective friends to discover more details regarding the person of interest. Monday, contact will need to be established to perhaps arrange a meeting for later in the week.
This has never happened to me, so I cannot comment either way. According to them, these two scenarios are a typical meet-cute. Okay.
The conversation really didn't get anywhere because Kandis said that Randal didn't do either of those things and she ended up asking him out. And then they had a small tiff and I changed the subject back to what originally spawned the conversation in the first place -- me being through with J because I have been wanting him to show more initiative in wooeing women. Randal went emo for a moment, as he do. He's a cute little emo-boy, though. When he and Kandis get married and have children, as they will -- I have claimed it! -- I hope he has a little boy who goes emo on him like that so he can see what it looks like. Not that I want my little nephew to be emo, but you get what I am saying.
Back to J. He is such a great guy and I really want him to have a meaningful relationship with a woman. And I know a great one who is pretty and kind and sweet, but I think she is a bit reserved. And neither one of them is going to make the first move. Just go on a date already!
I think I am obessed with dating because I never did it. THANK GOD. Because just trying to get other people to do it is stressing me out. I would probably stare at the ceiling all night wondering why my 2 texts are and why I wasn't worthy of being asked to lunch on Sunday after church. So, yay for Theo and I getting to skip all that noise. I cannot imagine dating in the FB era either. NIGHTMARE! People go batshit when they see stuff like "in a relationship" or "it's complicated" as your relationship status. That is just so...nosy anyway.
Ugh, anyway, let me go. I need to send Theo a text. Or two.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Love the Fall
For some reason, I had this song stuck in my head today. Can I just say, I frickin' love this song? Theo does, too, though he likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else. It is actually one of the songs on the previous BodyStep release. Peak 1, track 4, for some crazy reason was THE hardest track for me to learn last time, when normally I always spazz out around track 5. But, nope, that track, with the weird boxer shuffle always did something to me. I would go the wrong direction, bounce on the wrong beat, eh... The POINT being, because I had such trouble learning the choreo for track 4, I was forced to play this song over and over and over and over and over...you get the idea. And poor Theo just HAPPENED to be home those 2 mornings where I slaved over that song, 45 minutes each day. Seriously, it NEVER takes me that long, normally I can get my choreography down like THAT* (I'm snapping right now, see me? LIKE THAT *snap*). But instead of going batshit crazy on me for having to listen to the song repeatedly, when I apologized after about 5 repeats, "Sorry, baby, I know you are sick of this song," Theo responded, "I kind of like it." And a few weeks later, while I was playing the song just randomly via the computer, Theo walked in and said, "Hey, that's my song!" :) Sweet, right?
I do love the Fall. Something about the air becoming crisp, but not too cold, the leaves turning colors, football, marching bands, I don't know. It just does something to me. I have ALWAYS loved the Fall, I think. Fall means high school dances and hot cocoa from the concession stand. Burnt-orange colored Yankee candles on my parents' mantle.
Now, I realize that it is still September, but a girl can look forward to October, right? Right?
ALSO, please note that the version Theo loves isn't the one below -- it is the remixed BodyStep version. But, you get the picture.
In OTHER news, how about we got halfway to Florence last Saturday - actually MORE than halfway, we were in Moulton -- when Glo (my mama) called and said that we didn't need to come to Florence because my Grandma said she wasn't going to her birthday dinner the next day. Which was the whole reason we were going to Florence in the first place. Kidding me? Nice. Gotta love Grandma, she is a G. We had a good time being in Florence, anyway, and I did go spend some time with my girl before we left. But the end all, be all, at 7pm that Sunday, she did decide that she wanted to have her birthday dinner and went. Theo and I just drove back to Birmingham. Now that I think about it, I should probably be offended. But, I won't be since the only other people who attended the dinner were my aunt, 2 cousins and about 10 kids. I would probably have been too busy trying to discipline the kids to enjoy myself. As it was, I heard that grandma 'acted up' the entire time, per my mother, per my aunt telling my mother. Of course, when I called Grandma to ask how the dinner went, she said it was great. And then she told me that I was the only grandkid that cared about her because I call her to check on her all the time. Awwww. As much as I wanted to bask in that, I told her that wasn't fair because my cousin Jen drives her EVERYWHERE and goes to see her every day and Grandma agreed, Jen cares. I told her I have to call since I don't get to see her like everyone else, so it all kind of balances out. So she decided that her grandDAUGHTERS care, but not her grandsons. Hahaha. I reminded her that Brad always sends cards, candy and money; Damon bought her that super nice flatscreen TV that she HATED and made him take back because it wasn't a "real television set", and Geoffrey had just flipped her mattress for her last month. She wasn't having it.
Poor flatscreen TV. That thing was NICE. NIIIIIICE. Damon had to go back and get her one with the big ass back. Do you KNOW how hard those are to find these days? Gotta love Grandma. Turning her nose up at the latest technology. LOVE.
I do love the Fall. Something about the air becoming crisp, but not too cold, the leaves turning colors, football, marching bands, I don't know. It just does something to me. I have ALWAYS loved the Fall, I think. Fall means high school dances and hot cocoa from the concession stand. Burnt-orange colored Yankee candles on my parents' mantle.
Now, I realize that it is still September, but a girl can look forward to October, right? Right?
ALSO, please note that the version Theo loves isn't the one below -- it is the remixed BodyStep version. But, you get the picture.
In OTHER news, how about we got halfway to Florence last Saturday - actually MORE than halfway, we were in Moulton -- when Glo (my mama) called and said that we didn't need to come to Florence because my Grandma said she wasn't going to her birthday dinner the next day. Which was the whole reason we were going to Florence in the first place. Kidding me? Nice. Gotta love Grandma, she is a G. We had a good time being in Florence, anyway, and I did go spend some time with my girl before we left. But the end all, be all, at 7pm that Sunday, she did decide that she wanted to have her birthday dinner and went. Theo and I just drove back to Birmingham. Now that I think about it, I should probably be offended. But, I won't be since the only other people who attended the dinner were my aunt, 2 cousins and about 10 kids. I would probably have been too busy trying to discipline the kids to enjoy myself. As it was, I heard that grandma 'acted up' the entire time, per my mother, per my aunt telling my mother. Of course, when I called Grandma to ask how the dinner went, she said it was great. And then she told me that I was the only grandkid that cared about her because I call her to check on her all the time. Awwww. As much as I wanted to bask in that, I told her that wasn't fair because my cousin Jen drives her EVERYWHERE and goes to see her every day and Grandma agreed, Jen cares. I told her I have to call since I don't get to see her like everyone else, so it all kind of balances out. So she decided that her grandDAUGHTERS care, but not her grandsons. Hahaha. I reminded her that Brad always sends cards, candy and money; Damon bought her that super nice flatscreen TV that she HATED and made him take back because it wasn't a "real television set", and Geoffrey had just flipped her mattress for her last month. She wasn't having it.
Poor flatscreen TV. That thing was NICE. NIIIIIICE. Damon had to go back and get her one with the big ass back. Do you KNOW how hard those are to find these days? Gotta love Grandma. Turning her nose up at the latest technology. LOVE.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
'33 Was A Very Good Year
So sayeth my grandma, who turned 78 years young today. For all of you mathmeticians out here in cyberspace, that means that my sweet Carliss entered the world in 1933.
I am so happy about today being my lady's birthday. She is probably one of the most awesome people I have ever known. And not because she laughs at my jokes. I love that she is the type of grandma who sits at her chair facing the picture window and takes in everything that happens around her. I love that she has no qualms about calling someone out. And by "out", that can always mean out of their name. My cousin Jennifer has been a "heifer", or rather, "heffa" for the last 10 years. My nearly 40 year old brother Geoffrey is a "boy" and I have been a "little girl" for the past 30 years. I love that she has never really played favorites amongst my brother and I, nor my cousins. She seems to love us all equally - Geoffrey, Damon, Jennifer, Brad and I, her grandbabies.
I love this lady for her strength and willingness to do hard work. I admire that she, without complaint, would go to work Monday - Saturday at 6am as a cook, working long hours in a hot kitchen, preparing meals for others, standing on her feet 10 hours a day, with never enough time to take a break for breakfast or lunch herself. I admire her tenacity, fighting breast cancer with an iron fist, stopping smoking at the age of 70 cold turkey, despite having been a smoker since the age of 11.
One of the things I hate about not living in Florence (and granted there are just about a handful), is the fact that I cannot be close to her. Whenever I go "home", her apartment is usually my first stop, and before I leave, my last. I love just being around my "girl". The things she says. The way she always smells (which alternates between cornbread and White Diamonds). The way she laughs and tells me "Girl, you crazy." The way she always says that it is "good to be here." The way she makes 9 sweet potato pies every Thanksgiving and how NO ONE, I mean NO ONE can make chicken and dressing taste the way she does.
I love that I can call and ask what she is doing and it will either be, "Watching' Ol' Andy," or "Eatin' a chicken wing," or "Sittin' on the porch," or "Lookin' out the window". I love that she talks smack about her neighbors, "Them N^@@&$ know they didn't need no new mattress," and "They don't never go to work," and calls them suckas, patties, and stumps.
I love that she calls Mr. Mc, my "old man" and always makes certain to ask how he is doing whenever we talk. I love that she always has time to talk to me, about nothing at all, and it seem like the most important thing in the world. I love her cheese toast, always burnt a bit, but the best you will ever eat. I love that a 'salad', to her, is lettuce and mayonaise and a sandwich is bread and tomato.
I love that she puts people in their place with no preamble. It is what it is. No sorry and no lead in. "You don't speak for me, heifer. Now, go get my chicken," what she told Jennifer after Jennifer told her she didn't like Popeye's.
I love that she cleans her bathtub every day. I love that she won't accept that Dr. McFall has diagnosed her with early Alzheimer's. I don't accept it either, Grandma. I love that she doesn't need much. Just 2 pieces and a biscuit from Popeye's (and a snark on the "big booty black stump" who owns it), a new dress every now and then, a visit to "the church-house" and a good pair of teeth. I would give you the world, Grandma.
But most of all, I just love her for being her. Happy Birthday to my girl. I love you.
I am so happy about today being my lady's birthday. She is probably one of the most awesome people I have ever known. And not because she laughs at my jokes. I love that she is the type of grandma who sits at her chair facing the picture window and takes in everything that happens around her. I love that she has no qualms about calling someone out. And by "out", that can always mean out of their name. My cousin Jennifer has been a "heifer", or rather, "heffa" for the last 10 years. My nearly 40 year old brother Geoffrey is a "boy" and I have been a "little girl" for the past 30 years. I love that she has never really played favorites amongst my brother and I, nor my cousins. She seems to love us all equally - Geoffrey, Damon, Jennifer, Brad and I, her grandbabies.
I love this lady for her strength and willingness to do hard work. I admire that she, without complaint, would go to work Monday - Saturday at 6am as a cook, working long hours in a hot kitchen, preparing meals for others, standing on her feet 10 hours a day, with never enough time to take a break for breakfast or lunch herself. I admire her tenacity, fighting breast cancer with an iron fist, stopping smoking at the age of 70 cold turkey, despite having been a smoker since the age of 11.
One of the things I hate about not living in Florence (and granted there are just about a handful), is the fact that I cannot be close to her. Whenever I go "home", her apartment is usually my first stop, and before I leave, my last. I love just being around my "girl". The things she says. The way she always smells (which alternates between cornbread and White Diamonds). The way she laughs and tells me "Girl, you crazy." The way she always says that it is "good to be here." The way she makes 9 sweet potato pies every Thanksgiving and how NO ONE, I mean NO ONE can make chicken and dressing taste the way she does.
I love that I can call and ask what she is doing and it will either be, "Watching' Ol' Andy," or "Eatin' a chicken wing," or "Sittin' on the porch," or "Lookin' out the window". I love that she talks smack about her neighbors, "Them N^@@&$ know they didn't need no new mattress," and "They don't never go to work," and calls them suckas, patties, and stumps.
I love that she calls Mr. Mc, my "old man" and always makes certain to ask how he is doing whenever we talk. I love that she always has time to talk to me, about nothing at all, and it seem like the most important thing in the world. I love her cheese toast, always burnt a bit, but the best you will ever eat. I love that a 'salad', to her, is lettuce and mayonaise and a sandwich is bread and tomato.
I love that she puts people in their place with no preamble. It is what it is. No sorry and no lead in. "You don't speak for me, heifer. Now, go get my chicken," what she told Jennifer after Jennifer told her she didn't like Popeye's.
I love that she cleans her bathtub every day. I love that she won't accept that Dr. McFall has diagnosed her with early Alzheimer's. I don't accept it either, Grandma. I love that she doesn't need much. Just 2 pieces and a biscuit from Popeye's (and a snark on the "big booty black stump" who owns it), a new dress every now and then, a visit to "the church-house" and a good pair of teeth. I would give you the world, Grandma.
But most of all, I just love her for being her. Happy Birthday to my girl. I love you.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Like Water off a Duck's Back
I have been struggling the past 2 days. A few people, names to remain unwritten, have been working my nerves. I have prayed about it, and last night, while in the shower, I thought of ducks and the idiom that they are known for.
"Because of the glandular oil with which ducks preen their feathers, waterfowl have plumage which repels moisture-- this is why ducks can swim about for a lengthy spell before getting too wet to float. Water can roll off a duck's back without effect."
I have decided that I should take criticism by the same token. Try, at the very least. The days, they are long. But, I will attempt to retain a sense of optimism. Stay tuned on that note.
In other news, the weekend went over smashingly well. Saturday was very...physical for me to say the least. I began the morning at 7am by meeting with my running group at the Lakeshore Trail. We did 4 miles - wow! Afterwards, I was in the car, comforting myself after the run with the fact that since it was only 8am, I would have time to stretch before teaching BodyStep at 930. By the time I got to the gym at 8:10, however, I pulled into the lot and after a quick scan for Holly's BMW, "Betty", I thought to myself,
Oh, CRAP.
It's Labor Day Weekend. Meaning, Holly is at the beach and Jaz is BodyPumping today at 8:15 before BodyStep. Great. Needless to say, I was wore OUT by the time Step ended at 10:30. But, man, it hurt so good. What didn't hurt so good? The fricking blister that had formed on the back on my right heel. Ugh. Fricking salesguy at The Track Shack said that the shoe fit properly, even though I expressed concern that the heel was moving up and down. Yeah, no. Blister.
After a quick shower, which included blister burning when water touched it, I met up with Kandis and Frenchie at Edgar's. Love them and love Edgar's. Spending time with those two is just...easy, know what I mean? It is almost like spending a day by myself, because the 3 of us are so in sync. Does that make me sound full of conceit to then say that they are fabulous? If so, too dang bad. I love being with those chicks.
Afterward our nearly 3 hour brunch, I went to Publix to get the week's groceries. HATE when my regular cashier and bagger are off. HATE! There is one guy who completely SUCKS at bagging and I almost always get him when my regular bagger Bernard isn't there. I don't start off at a register where he is working, he somehow always finds his way over to me. I almost wanted to tell him not to fricking bother. He is a horrible bagger. I could rant on his horribleness for days. Is horribleness a word? Doubtful. Did I mention how much he sucks as a bagger? I left half of the groceries in the car for Theo to bring up later that night because I was fairly certain that the bags were going to fall apart before making it up the stairs. To be fair, I told Theo what and why I did what I did. After carrying the bags up (3 trips, natch) 5 hours later, he agreed with my opinion of the bad bagger. Ugh. I hope my Bernard is back next week. If not, I am limiting my purchase to bread and milk.
Marlon came over that night to watch the game and shoot the breeze with Theo, Lo and Walt, in town from Nash. Aww, Marlon. He is one of my faves, for real. I love that he married Frenchie. I have benefitted so much from their relationship. She is great. Did I tell you she was great? Too bad Marlon got in trouble that night. Before I went to sleep at 11pm, I told him Frenchie said for him to be home in 30 mins. I found out the next morning that he stayed until 5am. YIKES. But, at least he was safe and there were no hoes around. Just boys and football. No worries!
Kandis and One L celebrated their 1 year anniversary on Sunday. Awww! Love! We had a fish fry at the apartment and folks came over and it was fantabulous. Our friends are pretty dang awesome, if I say so myself. :) Kandis did get in trouble for not making cookies. She knows she is the cookie lady. Get on your J-O-B, Kandis. Will forgive since I picked up some cupcakes when Theo and I made a quick stop at Publix after church Sunday. No sign of bad bagger. Thank God.
Maybe I am too invested in this bagging thing. Do other people pay this much attention? I spend too much time at Publix. They all know my name. Is that weird? Meh.
Tomorrow is Date Night with Krystle! Also known as Negro Night because we watch Black films and snark on them. Lo would be so disgusted. He would likely accuse us of not being supportive of our people. I refute that. It's just that since the inception of Krystle and Jaz's Negro Night, we have yet to watch a movie that was actually good. Now, I know there are good Black films, but we prefer to watch the bad ones. There are just so many B-Black films out here. AWFUL.
OMG, this movie was pure garbage gold. It is a damn shame when bad acting happens to mediocre actors.
On a completely random, un-related note, did you know that Maurice Clarett had a blog?
W.
T.
F.
I feel as if my blog has been cheapened by this somehow.
"Because of the glandular oil with which ducks preen their feathers, waterfowl have plumage which repels moisture-- this is why ducks can swim about for a lengthy spell before getting too wet to float. Water can roll off a duck's back without effect."
I have decided that I should take criticism by the same token. Try, at the very least. The days, they are long. But, I will attempt to retain a sense of optimism. Stay tuned on that note.
In other news, the weekend went over smashingly well. Saturday was very...physical for me to say the least. I began the morning at 7am by meeting with my running group at the Lakeshore Trail. We did 4 miles - wow! Afterwards, I was in the car, comforting myself after the run with the fact that since it was only 8am, I would have time to stretch before teaching BodyStep at 930. By the time I got to the gym at 8:10, however, I pulled into the lot and after a quick scan for Holly's BMW, "Betty", I thought to myself,
Oh, CRAP.
It's Labor Day Weekend. Meaning, Holly is at the beach and Jaz is BodyPumping today at 8:15 before BodyStep. Great. Needless to say, I was wore OUT by the time Step ended at 10:30. But, man, it hurt so good. What didn't hurt so good? The fricking blister that had formed on the back on my right heel. Ugh. Fricking salesguy at The Track Shack said that the shoe fit properly, even though I expressed concern that the heel was moving up and down. Yeah, no. Blister.
After a quick shower, which included blister burning when water touched it, I met up with Kandis and Frenchie at Edgar's. Love them and love Edgar's. Spending time with those two is just...easy, know what I mean? It is almost like spending a day by myself, because the 3 of us are so in sync. Does that make me sound full of conceit to then say that they are fabulous? If so, too dang bad. I love being with those chicks.
Afterward our nearly 3 hour brunch, I went to Publix to get the week's groceries. HATE when my regular cashier and bagger are off. HATE! There is one guy who completely SUCKS at bagging and I almost always get him when my regular bagger Bernard isn't there. I don't start off at a register where he is working, he somehow always finds his way over to me. I almost wanted to tell him not to fricking bother. He is a horrible bagger. I could rant on his horribleness for days. Is horribleness a word? Doubtful. Did I mention how much he sucks as a bagger? I left half of the groceries in the car for Theo to bring up later that night because I was fairly certain that the bags were going to fall apart before making it up the stairs. To be fair, I told Theo what and why I did what I did. After carrying the bags up (3 trips, natch) 5 hours later, he agreed with my opinion of the bad bagger. Ugh. I hope my Bernard is back next week. If not, I am limiting my purchase to bread and milk.
Marlon came over that night to watch the game and shoot the breeze with Theo, Lo and Walt, in town from Nash. Aww, Marlon. He is one of my faves, for real. I love that he married Frenchie. I have benefitted so much from their relationship. She is great. Did I tell you she was great? Too bad Marlon got in trouble that night. Before I went to sleep at 11pm, I told him Frenchie said for him to be home in 30 mins. I found out the next morning that he stayed until 5am. YIKES. But, at least he was safe and there were no hoes around. Just boys and football. No worries!
Kandis and One L celebrated their 1 year anniversary on Sunday. Awww! Love! We had a fish fry at the apartment and folks came over and it was fantabulous. Our friends are pretty dang awesome, if I say so myself. :) Kandis did get in trouble for not making cookies. She knows she is the cookie lady. Get on your J-O-B, Kandis. Will forgive since I picked up some cupcakes when Theo and I made a quick stop at Publix after church Sunday. No sign of bad bagger. Thank God.
Maybe I am too invested in this bagging thing. Do other people pay this much attention? I spend too much time at Publix. They all know my name. Is that weird? Meh.
Tomorrow is Date Night with Krystle! Also known as Negro Night because we watch Black films and snark on them. Lo would be so disgusted. He would likely accuse us of not being supportive of our people. I refute that. It's just that since the inception of Krystle and Jaz's Negro Night, we have yet to watch a movie that was actually good. Now, I know there are good Black films, but we prefer to watch the bad ones. There are just so many B-Black films out here. AWFUL.
OMG, this movie was pure
On a completely random, un-related note, did you know that Maurice Clarett had a blog?
W.
T.
F.
I feel as if my blog has been cheapened by this somehow.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
I Don't Care What You Say
Conversate is not a word.
Merriam-Webster.com has it listed as a nonstandard, first used in 1973. Ugh. Don't feed the beast, Webster. The word is converse. Not to be confused with Converse
Converse:
CONVERSE:
I know in my blog posts, I am the reigning Queen of improper grammar usage, but in my everyday life, and ESPECIALLY my professional career, I try to be mindful of my speech. I just find it...disconcerting that someone with a college degrees from a respectful institution will use a non-word such as 'conversating' in a meeting with a superior. And not even in a referential manner -- the non-word was used as if it made perfect sense. As a replacement for "when speaking with ___" or "in conversations with ___" or "after conversing with_____"
/rant over.
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