Friday, February 27, 2009

Stuck: The Update

If you read yesterday's blog, then you know I was really really uninspired in the gift arena. Not having a gift for my mother on her birthday would have been oh so wrong. But I have 2 people to thank for kicking my butt into high gift mode and giving my mom a gift that she will enjoy and greatly appreciates. First, I have to thank this guy. He's my Guy Guru's younger bro and he's new to the blog world. While catching up on his blog during lunch yesterday, I came across something he wrote about people questioning his family's decision to only have one child. Now as an only child for most of my life (I was an older sibling 2 weeks out of the year when I went to visit my dad..does that really count?? hahahaha), I am very passionate about people putting in their two cents about the plight of the only child. So I left a comment, talking about all that my mother was able to do for me as a child because there is only one of me. As if we all were on the same page, Chubbsy left a comment yesterday saying I should give my mother an experience - something to do. Hmmm, Guy Guru's brother inadvertently reminded me of all the things my mom has done for me. Then Chubbsy suggested I do something for her.

When my mother opened her card this morning, she found tickets to a Broadway show, and a gift certificate for a manicure at a spa near her job (that way she only has to expose her naked hands to the strangers...hahahaha).

During the course of my mind spinning trying to think of a thing, I was reminded that sometimes the thing we want most of all is the experience of time. Thanks, Jamal and Chubbs.

Gotta to catch my planes to the Deep South (yes I said planes. No damn direct flights. Ugh). I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell upon my return. Smoochies.

Thursday, February 26, 2009


Tomorrow is my mom’s birthday. It’s also the day I leave for my Dad’s state of residence for his father’s send-off. Do you see my guilt just jumping off the screen??? Not yet. Well how about, I have absolutely no clue what to get her for her birthday. Yeah, nowwwwww you feel it. LOL

Usually, my mother is very simple to shop for. She’ll mention something that she likes. Feigns not knowing where to purchase such item and then I’ll buy it for her. Awwww, thoughtful daughter applause. However, now that she’s been home recuperating, she has gotten acquainted with the nuances of online shopping. She has purchased everything online, including the kitchen sink. No, for real. She’s having her kitchen remodeled and found a better deal online for her kitchen sink and faucet. She’s not a shopaholic (actually, she’s a save-aholic) but she now knows her UPS man by first name.

So now I’m stuck like Republicans looking for a new image. I’ve bought her books, clothes, jewelry, DVDs, DVD player, Cd's, etc. etc. This year I’ve come up with nada. I was thinking about purchasing her a record player that converts her albums to MP3 files for her Sony MP3 player. But not only are they costly, it wouldn’t have gotten here in time for her birthday. I was thinking of getting her a spa package but the idea of being naked while strangers touch you mortifies my mother. Me? Not so much. Hahahahaha

So far, I’m having flowers delivered to her early in the morning. But that’s more so out of the guilt I feel about leaving on her birthday and not being able to take her to dinner on her birthday. At lunch time, I will go out and buy her a beautifully sappy birthday card – the kind she likes. But I feel like I need something else, something tangible. Something she could years later say, “Oh my baby gave me this for my birthday in 2009.” Realistically, my mother will be happy with just the card and the flowers. Unfortunately, that’s not enough for me. Any suggestions???

PS My birthday is in 5 days. If you’re struggling with what to get me, just let know. I have a list. Haahahahahahaha (just jokes...kinda)

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Man Made

My dad called me early this morning. When I saw the missed call I knew something was up. First, there's a time difference, so early for me is waaay too early for him. And like me, my dad is sooo not a morning person. Once I got up to get my day started, I called back. His father passed away. And even though my dad cracked a joke in our conversation, his sadness was palpable through my cell phone. He had been in a nursing home for a few years so it wasn't completely unexpected. My fluctuating emotions aren't for the man my father called "Daddy". It's more so for the grief my Dad is feeling.

Due to various factors, I've never had a connection with my father's father. When my mind wanders to that place in my heart for reserved for the bond with grandfathers I think of my Poppa, my mother's father. He was the one who was everything a grandfather should be to me. With my father's father on the other hand, my interactions with him were limited at best and on the few occasions I did see him, I got a feeling he wasn't particularly interested in me anyway. So whenever my dad would call to update me on his father's surgeries, his women (and ummm his plethora of children), his move to the nursing home, and his failing health, I would courteously listen but without any emotional connection.

Now I don't know what to feel. I called my mother and told her that her baby daddy's father passed away. She was saddened (having lost her father herself) and asked me if I was okay. I kinda scrunched up my face and asked "Am I not supposed to be okay?" I get what she was saying. Technically, in terms of relatives, he's what's considered "close". However, close just isn't there for he and I. The closest emotional connection I feel is as if I were hearing of his death on the morning news. Like "ohhhh" and then continue eating bowl of oatmeal.

I'm waiting to hear back from my Dad. I have a feeling that he expects me to travel to his birthplace to bear witness to this passage. I wonder which mask will I wear. The outwardly grieving first grand-daughter? Nah, too dramatic. Even for me.

So I guess I say all of this to say Rest in Peace to the man who created my father. I wouldn't be here without you. That's all......

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Autosave is not my friend today.......

i was injured yesterday
thankfully mostly bruises
learned alot about myself
had something more eloquent written
too bad you won't read it

thats all.....

Tuesday, February 17, 2009


I know it’s been a minute since I’ve posted. I have so many reasons why. So many thoughts and wondering roaming in my dome but nothing I really want to share. Yet.

However, something is royally pissing me off at the moment. And I’m about 2 seconds from saying something. And probably lose my job in the process. So I sat to write. Let my fingers do the talking.

To set up the scene, my boss is in Europe. We have business there and he went to check on “our” interests there. He’s been gone since last week. And everyday he’s been gone, Pinky has been all up in here. May I remind you that Pinky doesn’t actually work for my company? Yeah, as in he’s not on the payroll. He’s an investor who attracts others with his kind of dough and by his kind of dough I’m talking multiple estates, trust funds for not born yet great great great grandchildren kind of wealth. Since The Brit (my blog name for my boss) has been gone, Pinky has been up in here acting like he owns the place. The rest of us just roll our eyes and keep doing what we have to do. But Pinky has really been testing me the past couple of weeks. Asking me to do shit that has absolutely nothing to do with the company, talking all kinds of out of pocket foolishness. I’ve checked him (politely of course) but sometimes I have those Ally McBeal moments where I visualize pounding his head on my credenza over and over and over and over and…..whew. I must admit. I was taking it personal. Being the only woman and the only person of color with a company does something; chinks away at the professional armor a little bit. It’s not like I haven’t been in an “only” situation before. I’ve just never been the only woman, only black person, and only person under the age of 45 all at the same time. But I digress.

Pinky’s wife came into the office today. While I’ve spoken to her a few times on the phone, I’ve never met her. Until today. As I’ve stated before I’ve always wanted to meet the woman who keeps this man in pink clothing and accessories. (sidebar: he hasn’t been wearing full on pink for a while but he still wears those damn pink glasses from time to time). She’s so petite was my first thought. This itty bitty thing makes this barrel of a man don pink clothes??? So we exchanged pleasantries. Gave her my best prep school persona and went back to eating my yummy salad. She walks over to the guest office where her husband is on a call. And what I heard next damn near knocked me out of my swivel chair. He begins to berate her. While I couldn’t hear all of the conversation, (I do have work to do you know), it was quite clear that she was not in favor. The tidbits I heard involved words like “stupid” and “it’s all your fucking fault”. And for some reason, her picking at her “damn fingernail polish” seem to really set him off as I’ve heard him admonish her at least a dozen times for it.

Helllooo, this is an office, a place of business. Save your domestic shit for your residence. To save some face, I went to close the door to the guest office. He looked up and shot me a look but I think my expression clearly said “I wish you would!” and I turned on my brown tall stiletto boots before his nonverbal could respond to mine.

I returned to my office fuming. First of all, why is he berating his wife in an office? Secondly, who gave him permission to treat her that way?? Lastly, there ain’t shit I can do about it, so why is it burning a fire in my belly? As I sit here typing, Mrs. Pinky has since quietly walked out of the guest office and is waiting for her husband at our small conference/lunch table. I know they are having problems at home with their younger son and I can feel the weight of the stress emanating from her slouched shoulders. Add to that the weight of her dick head of a husband, can you blame her for looking so……dejected???

If I ever have to choose between wealth and respect, I’ll be financially broke for the rest of my life.
I’m off to make some tea. Maybe that will quiet this fire in me.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Dream a little dream of me......

Today I slept. And it felt really good. Lately, between work and other obligations, sleep has not been a priority. Like the Energizer Bunny, I've been going and going and going and going and going get the point. After returning home at 2 am from a family dinner last night, all I wanted was the comfort of my olive green corduroy Tommy Hilfiger comforter and my 400 thread count sheets. As I got ready for bed, I fantasized about how good it would feel to climb up into my big, cushy but firm bed. I hopped up and slid waaaaaay under my comfy comforter. I closed my eyes letting sleep envelope me. And my phone rang. I smiled. It was a distinctive ring.

After my late night call, not only was I ready to sleep I was ready to dream. No tossing. No turning. No alarm clock. Unfortunately, my bladder didn't get the memo and I woke up 3 hours later at 6. No worries. I climbed back into bed after my brief sleep intermission and back to la-la land. I slept until noon. I can't remember the last time I had the time to even do that. But today was such a gorgeous day. In my I hate winter funk I couldn't let such a pretty day go to waste. Before I left my apartment I looked back at my bed. The sheets and comforter were still thrown back in the spot I left them an hour earlier. I could almost hear them calling me back, inviting me back into the fold.
After being out for about 2 hours, I abruptly decided that, to paraphrase R. Kelly, my bed was calling for me. Sure I could think of a million different things I could have tended to but body and brain vetoed those bills as I dunked my Metrocard in the machine on the bus to return home.
I left a trail of attire and bags from my front door to my bedroom. I swung open my bedroom door and jumped into bed. I hugged my pillow and let my comforter embrace me. Just as I let slumber take over, my phone rang. It was a distinctive ring. I smiled. And then I slept. And dreamt.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

I didn't watch the Superbowl on Sunday. Unusual because I usually do, especially with my friends - hot wings and fruity alcohol beverage. Oh yeah and with some circle of my crew too. Anywho, this year I wasn't in a position where watching the Superbowl was an option. I planned on rooting for the Cardinals - well kinda. It was the whole underdog, never won a Super Bowl story on which my decision was based (hey, I'm a sucker for a good story). I wasn't fanatical about my support. I just figured well maybe I'll root for them since it seems everyone is going for the Steelers. All of that changed after I overheard a conversation between 3 strangers.

Blonde dude: Do you even watch the Superbowl?

Blonde chick: Yes, of course. The Cardinals better win it.

Sandy Brown chick and Blonde dude: The Cardinals?! Really?!

Blonde dude: The Steelers have the best defense blah blah blah (I tune everyone out when they start quoting sports facts and figures and blah blah blah)

Blonde chick: Nooooo, the Cardinals have to win. We need this win.

Blonde dude: Ha! That's right, McCain is from Arizona. hahahahaha

And then they notice my ass eavesdropping before I could hear more. But frankly I heard enough before feeling even more sick to my stomach.

Soooooooooooooooo, let me get this straight. A football game where the outcome is based on skill, luck, referee calls, and time on the clock is somehow going to rectify the wrong that is in the phrase "President Obama" in your eyes???!! Like really??? In retelling this story to someone, it was brought to my attention that President Obama is a Steelers fan. Which I guess added fuel to this woman's sense of Cardinal love.

But just so we're clear, is this how it's going to be for the next 8 years?? (yeah, I said 8. I'm claiming it. Well for the Pres anyway. LOL) So everytime there is a black coach versus a white coach, you're going to NOT root for the black coach just because he looks like your Commander in Chief? And everytime a team from Arizona plays a team from Chicago (or any team that is liked by the President), you are going to shun the team that gets some Obama Love? And does this disdain for all things loved by the President extend to other things also? Like food, music, movies, television programming, etc? If so you're gonna be one starving, malnourished physically and intelligently, socially inept creature. I'm just sayin'.

Sorry Cardinals, but I'm glad you lost on Sunday. Not because I wasn't rooting for you. Because your lost made someone out there realize that like it or not: WE'RE HERE. And that is sweeeeet victory to me.