Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Mucus-like Observations

Since I'm coughing up the rest of what's left from this cold, I figured I'd get some other things off my chest too. A few small observations.

#1 - I don't like Beyonce's speaking voice. I just don't. It's too husky and Texan and, I dunno. I couldn't imagine being a guy and being turned on by it. Her singing voice, though, nothing to sneeze at.

#2 - I absolutely hate doing the dishes. The soggy fingernails and dirty dishrags . . . no! Oh, and washing clothes comes in at a close second.

#3 - There are a lot of perks to having a guy on your arm when you are a female. However, the one thing that can be annoying or . . . no, it's annoying . . . is that people will always adress the guy when talking to you as a couple. They address their questions to the guy, extend the handshake to the guy, make suggestions, observations, jokes, and eye contact with THE GUY. Oh, but they do always give the bill to the guy so there's a win in there for "the little lady" I guess, lol.

#4 - You can never have enough pairs of underwear. Or towels. You can never have enough towels.

#5 - Why do people pick on big foreheads when some of the most beautiful people in the world have big foreheads. I'll name a few.
- Iman,
- Tyra Banks (2 supermodels, in case you didn't know)
- Sade (that's pronounced Shah-day)
- Rihanna
- Lisa Raye
. . . the list goes on and on folks.
#6 - And yeah, that makes me angry. And yeah, I have a big a** forehead. And I'm sick of having to defend myself by constantly recalling this list of women that some damn body must have thought was attractive.

#7 - Being sick provides a great excuse for skipping out on work. However, when you are poor like myself and work part time, you have to drag your corpse-like body into work regardless. Thank goodness I am much better.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A Baby is 18 years. Marriage is FOREVER!!!

Soap Box Rant# 303

When you have a baby, love is automatic, when you get married, love is earned.
-Marie Osmond

Uh . . . right, so I went to a bridal shower the other day and this lead to a lot of reflecting on my part. First of all, I asked myself how many bridal showers I've ever attended in my life. For some odd reason I was able to recall several bridal showers, but couldn't remember where the bridal shower was, what gift I bought, and how I knew the lucky bride and groom. And then it hit me, that's because all of the bridal showers I remembered were on TLC's A Wedding Story or WE TV's Bridezillas. So in reality, I've been to nada, goose eggs, absolutely none, zero bridal showers ever, except for the ones that I've seen on TV. Which goes to show you that TV infiltrates my life so much so that I've adopted other people's families, experiences and ceremonies as my own. Wow.

After making this observation, I was lead to another. I've been to a whole lotta baby showers. I've hosted them, helped to plan them, I've bought gifts, created games, given speeches, I've even baked a home-made pie for someone's baby shower. So what's up with that?

Here's what's up with that. Unfortunately, the folks nearest and dearest to me aren't fans of the bonds of marital unions. So there I was sitting at someone's bridal shower, laughing at the silly games, trying to understand the gift bow hat, and catching up with some of my sorority sisters and I couldn't help but count the number of illegitimate babies I've helped to plan baby showers for.

Who cares? We're living in new times. Things have changed. It's no longer a big deal to have children out of wedlock, let's get over ourselves. Um, sorry, but no. People care. I myself am *ahem* a love child, born at a rather . . . (let's see, how do I say this?) unexpected time and I can honestly say that when the question of parenting comes up in conversation I've been asked if my parents were married. I used to just say, "no," nonchalantly because I didn't know I was being judged, but now I usually follow it up with, "so yes, I am indeed a bastard child if that's what you're asking." I do this so that the person can feel especially awkward.*

I remember one person followed her question up with "do you and your sisters have the same father?" She looked confused as the steam and fire shot through the top of my head. (And for the record, I have 4 sisters, 2 brothers, 1 hermaphrodite sibling and a cat and we all have different fathers AND mothers and we live on the front porch of my grandmother's trailer.)

All jokes aside sitting at this bridal shower, in someone's huge finished basement, surrounded by three generations of lovely women allowed me a glance into the future of my family. Women who will take "the plunge" and jump the broom. Women who will go beyond the act of making children and actually legitimize the little craps too so the poor things don't have to defend their lovechild-ness to people who just don't get it. (Bitter much?) The next couple months will be filled with me helping to plan my twin sister's wedding shower. Let's hope this is a fad that sticks.

*People are jerks, by nature, so sometimes you gotta call attention to their a$$hole-ness.

Monday, April 13, 2009

An Apology to the Mucus Family

"There are always germs, and you're never going to get rid of all of them."
-Cheryl Mendelson

I don't know why but I always feel sorry for the mucus in the Mucinex commercials.  You know the ones that get evicted from their nasal passage home when the person they are inhabiting begins to take medicine.  There's a father, a mother and their two children.  One commercial shows the loving father coming home from playing baseball with his son.  Another commercial shows him reading bed time stories to his two mucus children.  Sigh!  What a good dad.

Here is a picture of Papa Mucus carrying his new bride over the threshold.

With that said, I am fighting a really bad cold right now.  So, um, them mother-freakers have got to get the hell up out of my chest.

Off to get some Mucinex!

Sunday, April 12, 2009

For the Love of God, It's the LOVE of Money!

Soap Box Rant # 24

The Holy Book of the living God suffers more from its exponents today than from its opponents. -Leonard Ravenhill

Bible reading is an education in itself. --Lord Tennyson

Reading the Bible without meditating on it is like trying to eat without swallowing. --Anonymous

One of THE most misquoted scriptures from the bible is 1Timothy 6:10 which says " . . . for the love of money is the root of all evil." Most people quote it as "money is the root of all evil." Which is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. WROOOOONNNNGGGG!!!

(Money is not evil. It is an object. To love this object, however, causes the many crimes we see in this world. People selling their bodies, their children, killing, wars, famine . . . prettymuch every injustice you see in the world has its beginnings with someone loving money and wanting more of it than necessary.)

Now it doesn't bother me too much when people misquote this scripture. We're not all bible scholars. And that's okay, BUT I don't let it slide. A buzzer goes off in my brain. And I quickly correct the person, because I don't want them going through life thinking or even saying that money is evil. Just like I wouldn't want them going through life thinking that 1 + 1 = 4. This, however, is not the point of today's post.

The point of today's post is that a lady at my job, who happens to be a minister, called herself preaching to me (you know, me being a sinner and all- and I admit to being one - no delusions of grandeur here) and she misquoted the scripture. This is how she sounded to me - " . . . cause you know, Blank, money is the root to all evil, and blah blah blah, jibberish, so on and so forth . . . "

Meanwhile the buzzer in my head went off. BUZZ! (nah, I'll ignore it) BUZZZ! (she's a minister and she's on her soapbox, I'll let her finish.) HELL NO, BUUZZZZ! MOTHER-FREAKER BUZZZZZZ!!!! "(clears throat) excuse me, minister lady, it's the LOVE of money that's the root of all evil. Not money itself."

"Oh, yes, of course" she says and continues spewing hell and damnation. But by that point, I was done with her. I just couldn't stop asking myself how a self proclaimed minister could tell somebody that money is evil? A minister has a responsibility to "the flock" NOT to f@#$ up the word of God. It's one thing to misquote a scripture and keep the same meaning, but to misquote a scripture changing the whole meaning and keep going because you didn't even notice, is just unacceptable. This is the reason why I advise EVERYONE to ask for scriptural proof. If someone is telling you something, I don't care what it is, ask for the scripture that backs it up. Period. Know your bible.

I'm far from perfect, but I catch stuff like that all the time. Like every Sunday morning, I catch the same priest from the local televised Mass misquoting the Lord's daily prayer. HOW YOU GONNA MISQUOTE THE LORD'S PRAYER???!!! LOL What a state religion is in.

That's it!

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Gitcho Butt Outta My Way!!!

Soap Box Rant #5

Most people would die sooner than think; in fact they do.
 - Bertrand Russell

Okay, I understand that you are a pedestrian.  I understand that you have the right of way and that it would be illegal for me to run you over with my car.  I also know that YOU know it's illegal for me to run you over.  But why . . . WHY do you find it necessary to slow down when you see me coming?  I am not speeding up when I see you crossing.  No, I am keeping a respectful distance.  I even slow down a little bit to show you that I mean no harm.

Maybe it's not "in" to walk anymore.  Maybe this is your way of compensating for that.  Maybe you want to show me that I don't intimidate you one bit.  That's cool.  I don't want to intimidate you.  I don't even know you.  I'd just like for you and your friends to scoot yourselves across the street in your skinny jeans and colorful hoodies.    You don't have to run across the street.  I know that wouldn't be "a good look."  But you also don't have to look me in my eyes as you smile at your friends and proceed to creep to a snail's pace.

It's not walkers vs. drivers. And even if it was, I would so win.

Okay, um that's it.  Carry on.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Make Something Up and Circulate It In a Memo

Soap Box Rant #129

Passionate hatreds can give meaning and purpose to an empty life. These people haunted by the purposelessness of their lives try to find a new content not only by dedicating themselves to a holy cause but also by nursing a fanatical grievance. A mass movement offers them unlimited opportunies for battle.
-Eric Hoffer

I used to think that those who claimed others took delight in their failure was a selfish and narcissistic assumption.  The concept of someone "hating" just for the sake of hate itself was funny and catchy, but not realistic to me.  I got bored with the endless array of songs about haters, and "you can hate me now," and "you hate my success don't you."  It sounds like the excuse for every "bad experience" a sociopathic person has in life.  They all want to be meeeee!!!  Yeah, okay, I'd think to myself.  Get a grip already.

My thinking stemmed from my nerdy schoolyard days.  You know, when you got harassed by the cool guys and teased by the pretty girls.  When you'd get home from school, glasses broken, pants on backwards (don't ask) and your mom would say something like, You know they're only teasing because they're jealous of you? or Some people are just hateful that way.  They can't sleep at night unless they know they caused someone trouble.  Cheah, okay Mom, I thought to myself Nobody in their right mind would be jealous of me or Ain't nobody thinking bout me.  But you know what?  Fast forward a few years, moms was really onto something!

The year is 2009 A.D. and I am fabulous.  

I have grown accustomed to my fabulousness.  I have had the privilege of living in this beautiful shell of a body everyday for almost a decade and have gotten used to the attention it receives.  And when I open my mouth and common sense, wit, and intelligence pours out it is hard for those around me not to feel threatened.  It's like a sonic blast going off.  Little do they know that intelligence and character was something I was forced to work hard at, due to my years of nerd-domness and making friends the old fashioned way.  Now that I am fabulous, however, I am finding myself in the same position as before.  

BOTH women AND men want to see me fail.  They crave it.  And I'm not even the first Black President.  How 'bout them apples?  It's crazy.  People will drop statements and attempt to trap me in a corner.  Coming up to me with some ole' "riddle me this batman" type shit, or asking me questions about my personal life as if I'm really going to spill my heart out.  It amuses me and saddens me at the same time.

I work two days a week-sometimes more-(and oddly, I make enough money during those 2 days to support myself, my dog and my expenses comfortably).  But one law in my life is not to tell "work" people about my "personal" life.  (I do freelance work outside of this part time job.)  So I guess this prompts a lot of curiosity and criticism from my coworkers as to how I get by financially.  For example, I get the question "what have you been doing lately?" or "have you found any work outside of this?" often asked with the pouty face, like I've already failed.  Although they look like they care, I can feel that they really want me to say, Oooh, I'm doing terrible!  Just terrible.  Yesterday I ate catfood and today I went dumpster diving!  Do you have any spare change?

I know that they want me to say this because there was a guy at my job who didn't know how to handle his finances.  He wasn't working the side hustle like me so when they asked him "how he was doing" with a pat on the back and the pouty face, this guy says "Oooh, terrible! Just terrible . . ." (He's since been let go) and THEY LOVE THIS GUY.  They ate him alive.  They still talk about how pathetic his life is.  How he had problems.  How he's crazy.  How if they were him they'd do this or do that.  How he's such a loser, so on and so forth.  If he were food, they would throw him back up so they could eat him again.

Bottom line, people loooove to see or hear about someone doing bad.  They absolutely eat that shit up.

Somebody I don't even talk to came up to me at work the other day and asked me, "Sooo, you and your boyfriend still together?"  Wait, what?  Excuse me.  Wooow!  LOL  It's like that now?  Damn!  I wanted to give him the 3 F's.  (F-you, F-off, and go F yourself) but I decided that would sound incriminating, so I said, "Everything's fine, thank you."  (Actually, we were no longer together, but before my coworkers found out about him, I was labeled as "a man hater").

So on top of the thinly veiled, nosey ass, foul questions I get the brain teasers.  After making the mistake of exclaiming how excited I was about the new Disney Princess movie featuring a Black character I noticed the girl at work asking me strange questions in a sad attempt to expose me as a Black militant.  This heffer asks me which was worst, slavery or the holocaust?  Both were bad, I said.  Later she asked, Do you think this is the perfect time for Black people to rise up and take over?  

What the . . . ?  I had to turn and look at her.  I told her, No, this is the time for poor people to rise up and take over.

And of course, she asked me if I was getting enough hours at work.  I swear!  You can't win wit folk.

And it's always the nerdy people too, which is a disappointment for me.  When I was a nerd, I was so busy trying to get mine that I didn't have time to worry about anyone else.  I always had my head in a book or was hustling a job or two. (Kind of like now).  If anything, when I saw someone that looked like they were doing the darn thing, (like yours truly) I admired and congratulated that.  Rather than questioned and criticized.  I guess boredom is a biotch these days.

So for everyone that wants to see me fail, listen close.  YOU WILL NEVER GET THAT SATISFACTION.  I don't care how much mind chess you attempt to play with me, you will not break me so help me God.  I am not going to say something silly or come to work and spill my business.  Whatever you want to know about me, you can make up and circulate in an office memo.

'Cause Moms ain't raise no fool!