This May Sound Crazy But . . .

Being a Director is HARD

2012-01-27T16:06:00.000-08:00

So I have one and a half episodes under my belt, thus far and things are crazy. Pumping out a scene means getting locations, actors, equipment, time, etc. and these are all things that don't come easy. It's kind of like trying to take a civilized picture of a house full of animals. There is always someone straying out of the photo or the flash doesn't go off and you have to keep everyone's attention before they all wander away, going in opposite directions. Regardless, I have never been so sure that this is what I want to do. It's kind of like, the more I have to work hard for this - the more I realize that I'm cut out for this kind of work. *sigh* Either I'm a glutton for heart attack inducing situations or I'm a director at heart. I'd like to think it's the latter. :-)

Scorcese . . . I'm coming for ya!

Diary of a Mad Unemployed Black Woman

2012-01-17T17:46:00.000-08:00

I'm convinced that these companies are posting job openings just to make the economy look better. I have been emailing this one station down the street from me for months. They have been posting the same job since forever. Last Thursday, I worked up the nerve to actually go to the place and hand in my reel along with a resume, some references and a cover letter. I asked if it would be possible to speak to someone and was told by the (very friendly) front desk person that the HR guy was too busy but that the next day would be better and I should just stop by then. Well, I stopped by the next day and the HR guy walked right past me without saying a word. And then I was told by the front desk person that he was too busy. Too busy?! Too busy to tell someone that "the job is no longer open"? Too busy to say, "We're sorry but we're considering other candidates"? Too busy to say, "You are perfect for the job but I just don't like your face, so please get out of here"? I mean anything . . . tell me ANYTHING but at least have the decency and respect for me as a human being to speak. I don't understand why I am getting the same exact response from all of these jobs . . . which is no response whatsoever. Well, actually I can understand it a little because for all of the other jobs, I just emailed or snail-mailed my resume. But in this particular case, I was literally sitting in the lobby. The ONLY person in that little-ass lobby, in that empty-ass building. And the man was too "busy" to tell me anything. Whatever. And I know I sound crazy, right now. But I can assure you, I did not stalk dude. Actually, he emailed me 6 months ago and told me to apply to the job in the first place. And when I did, I didn't hear back from him. And then all of these months later, the job is open again and I sent another resume and followed up by stopping by the station to drop off my reel. It's really not all that serious and I guess that's where my frustration comes from. If I'd have been disrespectful or over the top, I could understand his ignoring/avoiding me. But I have done nothing deserving of disrespect and the only thing I want to know is if the job is still available and if maybe - just maybe - I could get an interview.

Regardless, I am determined to do things on my own. I will continue to work on my "brand" and try to get my little video productions going until one day I am successful. Sometimes I consider going back to school and getting a Master's but I am obsessed with paying off my old student loans before making new ones. On a more positive note, I am grateful that I have some experience under my belt and that I am not new to "the struggle."

Life will turn itself around. I'm just wondering when and how.

Web Series

2012-01-09T16:18:00.000-08:00

So I shot the first episode of my web series last night. And there's way too much to say in one post. But I'll put it this way, in Jay Z's words (and I hate to have to quote that man, but . . . ) I need more people. Last night, I was the director, producer, logistics person, audio technician, gaffer and production assistant. It was ridiculous. Thank God, I had a camera guy - who was also the production manager, lighting guy and Assistant Director. I'm embarrassed to roll the credits at the end of this episode, lol. Either way, we gotter-done. Despite the fact that my DJ/actor decided not to bring his got-dang laptop. How do you bring all of your DJ'ing equipment and not bring the laptop which contains all of your music? That's like trying to cook without food. Regardless, he played music off of his phone (which was dead, and thank God I brought my phone charger) and so the episode went on as planned - despite the efforts of Satan and the DJ.

All (well, not all, but a good portion) of my lovely friends came out and we shot a party scene which was a lot of fun, but really ambitious of us. I'm editing it now and of course there are a few things that I have complaints about - but I guess it's growing pains and we did pretty good for a first time. Either way, I'm pretty excited about this project and it's great to have something that I can say I directed. Hopefully, this will lead to other things. I'll be sure to post the episode and promo vids once I finish editing.

:-)

2011 Recap

2011-12-31T16:44:00.000-08:00

Here's a recap of my 2011 . . .

January

My cozy little hotel room in Incheon, Korea.

Actually, the year started off on an interesting note. Imagine sitting in a hotel in South Korea, alone. That was me. I'd flew from Japan to Korea in order to visit a friend from college. When I came there to kick it, as Kanye would put it, things became different. Long story short, she flipped on me and made my visit a living hell. So I did something kind of crazy and cut my visit short by leaving. The problem was that my flight was for January third and I'd left her place on December 28th (or something like that). So I had about 6 days to walk around Korea (which I knew absolutely nothing about) and no where to go. In other words, I was stranded. So I took a 3 hour bus ride to Incheon (pronounced In-chun) airport and found a hotel in the area. I had a really bad cold, so I spent the first couple days sniffling and coughing in a hotel while watching downloaded movies online. Then a glimmer of hope. A friend of mine from Japan told me that she was in Korea too and wanted to hook up. So on this day last year (December 31st) I walked around the major train station looking for her. Unfortunately, I never found the girl and ended up picking up some pizza and made my way back to my cozy little hotel room. I chatted with one of my childhood friends (who also lived in Japan - but happened to be in America at the time) and did the countdown with him. In other words, the year started off RANDOM AS ALL HELL. Unfortunately, this is when I stopped blogging. Regardless, I survived, got back to Japan and it turned into an interesting year. Oh, and the rest of January turned out to be a whole lot of eating delicious Japanese foods, hanging with my girlfriends and having a blast.

Wandering around, seeing the sights in Korea.

February

Japan (rabu rabu desu!)

Continuation of hanging with my Japanese family. Onsens (butt naked public baths = AWESOMENESS), udon (better than ramen noodles), kakigori (de-freaking-licious shaved ice), dancing, singing, crying, creating beautiful memories with my Japanese soul mates.

March
Back to America. Getting used to it all. Actually got back to work on a temp job. Then suddenly, an earthquake and tsunami hit and all of my thoughts went back to Japan. I was devastated and kept kicking myself, thinking "Why am I in America when I should be in Japan right now?!" I know, strange thought. It was part guilt, part sadness, part . . . I don't know, everything!

April
Working the temp job and visiting friends. Still getting back to life. Editing the video of my overseas experiences. Getting asked 2 questions about Japan. "What was the food like?" and "Why are you back?" Oh and one question from the boyf. "Will you marry me?" Kind of freaked out a little and told him, I'd need more time to think about it.

May

Babes in Disney Land.

The big event (for my job) came and went. Suddenly, my schedule was becoming more . . . empty. I still had a paycheck coming in so I wasn't sweating it.

June
Big trip to Disney World with the nieces and my sisters. Going to Disney pretty much took up the whole month, even though it was a 5 day, 4 night trip. By the end of everything, I wanted to shoot myself. But the kids had fun. And that was what it was all about.

July

The relentless search for a job.

Okay, it was time to plunge into the job hunt. I sent out a million resumes, joined Linked In and started emailing folks like . . . well, like it was my job.

August
Paid 800 bucks to go to a big Media and Journalist's convention in Philadelphia. Handed out my resume to everyone who would take one. Prayed, networked, pitched, bitched, put on business suit after business suit, laughed, sweat, and ran into my ex boyfriend. Still . . . nothing.

Me, before going to the Convention. (Thinking I'm going to land a job - the nerve!)

September
Still job hunting every day. Money is at an all time low. My spirit is at an all time low until suddenly, I get an interview offer. My car breaks down on the way to the interview and the lady changes her mind about me, the interview and everything else. I am devastated and go into a state of depression so low that I begin to question God's existence.

October
I decide to stop looking for a job. I sit around reading The Hunger Games and playing Bejeweled for days at a time. No bath. No change of clothes. I was gross.

November
My friend gives me a lead on an insurance gig. I decide that I'm interested and will sell my soul for the job. Fortunately, this is not necessary. I just need to be willing to invest 3,000 bucks into my future, not including the cost of training and the need for a new computer. I was all about it, until the day kept creeping forward for me to jump in and start forking over the cash. Then I postponed "the dream."

December

Me, not giving a flying . . .

Well, I decided that the insurance gig was not my dream and that my postponing the training was really just my way of backing out. I decided to stop telling people what I was doing every day or that I needed any job. In other words, I took a nice, long break from explaining myself and pressuring myself. So far, so good. So a couple days ago, I watched The Secret and decided that my new life is right around the corner. Next week, I will be working. Where? I don't know. What I'll be doing? I don't know the answer to that either. But I'm sure that 2012 will be a year full of blessings and opportunity. And if last year could start off with me in a random hotel in South Korea, then I'm sure next year will come with plenty of strange, fun and exciting twists and turns as well.

So here's to the New Year!

CHEERS!!! (and be safe everybody!)

Web Series

2011-12-24T14:19:00.000-08:00

So, I decided not to take that Insurance Gig. Actually, the boyf kind of made that choice for me with his wallet. There are a bunch of expensive things involved with getting that gig and since my pockets are starving, the boyfriend would have been forking over the cash. Being that he thinks the job is stupid, he's cock-blocking . . . with his - uh - wallet. And I don't blame him. My insides were kicking and screaming with the thought of taking on that job - and I know times are hard, but there's GOT TO be a better way.

In the meantime of pursuing my dream job, I've decided to do something that won't be adding a cent to my bank statements. I'll be shooting a webseries. Yes, you heard me - a webseries! I'm super excited about this endeavor because it's something I've always wanted to do and the storyline is based off of every friendship that I've ever had. Besides (even though I don't have any readers for this blog) I know that I am an amazing writer and I can't wait to see my stories come to "the screen" - even if it's a computer screen. And take that blogosphere - you don't validate me!!!! hahahaha! *sigh* :-(

Anyway, I've already gotten some of the equipment together and I've also gotten a few actors to act in it. We will be shooting the first episode on January 8th and God knows when we'll start posting them to YouTube, but it's-a-coming. Excited is not the word!!! Elated? Hysterical?

Until then, I've been joining the webseries communities online and watching all kinds of shows. And let me tell you, there are a lot of good ones out there. Such as . . .

Shit Girls Say (Don't watch while eating - you will choke)

Of course . . . The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl

Drama Queenz (If you are a homophobe, this is NOT for you - but I am in LOVE w/this show)

and one of my personal faves . . . Shitty Fabulous Lives

Please watch these shows and support the webseries community. There are a lot of great shows online.

Love ya!
Arnetta

I Was a Teenage Weirdo

2011-11-16T09:54:00.001-08:00

"Nah, I wouldn't go. On second thought, yes, I would go. It's probably the only time that all of the people I really hate will be gathered together at the same place - and I can finally blow them all up."
- A quote from my twin sister when I asked her if she would go to our High School Reunion

Now before you run to the police station and accuse my (obviously very bitter) sister of attempted terrorism - I just want to say - she's only kidding. She's a proud mother of two and isn't going to ruin her life (or anybody else's) by blowing up our High School class. But she pretty much sums up how a lot of people feel about going to their H.S. reunion. As you have probably already guessed, my reunion has rolled around. *It's been 10 years already?!* And a bunch of memories have been flooding back into my mind. Being nerdy for two years. Coming into my own for the next two years. Making new friends and being terrorized by new enemies. Situations that I wish I could do over and things that I'm glad I did right the first time. The blood, the sweat and of course the gallons and gallons of tears. (Sidenote: Regardless of everything I've said, I will take the worst of my H.S. years over my best day of Middle School any day. Middle School is a hell that no human being should ever have to experience.)

So I'm trying to figure out if I should go. Why? I have no idea. I only had 3 real friends in H.S. and I have hung out with 2 of them pretty much since the day I graduated. There's really nobody else on my radar - and I doubt that I'm on anyone's radar, either.

Sidenote:
Actually, me and my sis argued about this a little. She says that people will be expecting - even hoping - that we show up. And ironically, within 5 minutes, I received an email from the President of our class saying she especially wanted me there because we belonged to the same sorority. I was surprised and horrified at the same time. (And yes, I joined a sorority in college. Why? Because deep down inside, I'm a glutton for punishment, lol.) So one might argue that my sister is right, but I think people have more of a fleeting Facebook interest in me. For example, a couple of months ago, I received a friend invitation from a girl I went to school with (she was my neighbor for years and one of the rare people that was nice to me in middle school) and she asked me what I was doing with my life and extended a few pleasantries. I accepted her invitation and told her what I was doing and asked her the same thing but received no response. In fact, I just found out two days ago that she'd deleted me from her friend's list. So I guess it was a quick and nosey way of seeing what I was doing but nothing beyond that. And to be honest, I'm not upset or surprised. That's what Facebook is about.
End of Sidenote :-)

I would be lying if I said there's not a part of me that wants to go back and "dazzle" everyone with my new-found confidence and "great dressing" ability and impressive resume (that still won't land me a job in my field - but nobody has to know all that! ;-). But I know this idea would only work in the imaginary world of a 15 year old, desperate for acceptance. In reality, it would be like getting all gussied up to go to Spain and run with the bulls. It's only "fun" in theory. In reality, it's a dangerous blood sport that leaves the dead and injured in its wake and the only real joy is making it out alive. LOL - I'm being extra. Let me reel this back in . . .

Moral to Story:
It's really not that serious. I was a weirdo in school, but now I've grown into a (still weird) but hot swan - if I do say so myself - and I didn't really like the people that I went to school with. If I went, essentially, I would be paying 30 bucks to hang around a bunch of people that I would have paid millions of dollars to get away from 10 years ago. I wish them all the best, and I'm sure I'll be be seeing pictures of those folks on "the book."

On a lighter note, here's what it would look like if I went to my H.S. reunion . . .

(CLASSIC!)

Penn State

2011-11-11T12:04:00.000-08:00

So yeah, this whole Penn State thing is a hot mess. It hurts my soul to know that children (children in a program that was supposed to help them) were being sexually abused and a bunch of grown-ass men were standing around, not doing a thing about it. What's even worse is that Penn State students are rioting, because said grown men have lost their jobs.

This is definitely a case of misplaced outrage. This whole situation is especially shocking to me because it totally goes against everything I've been taught as a woman, an American and as an adult. Let me explain . . .

As a Woman

As a woman there are places that I can't go alone. I cannot count how many times in my life a man (or sometimes a group of women) have walked me out to my car - or apartment. Or how many times I have had to depend on a male friend to give another dude the hint to back the heck off. There are times when a man has yelled or antagonized me in some way or other while I was alone, because he knew that as a female, he had the upper hand and I was afraid. And I'm not going to lie, in these very instances, I thought to myself If I were a man - I would jack you up, like right now. I've also seen men step up and get extra - I don't know - righteous about situations. Like threatening to kick somebody's booty if they get out of line. And those were moments in my life where I have been appreciative - because as a woman, I can tell you the law - but men can lay down the law. And that's pretty awesome.

So as a female, the member of the (physically) weaker sex, it shocks me to the core that a man, who has nothing to lose, doesn't stop another man from raping a little boy in the shower. Like isn't there some kind of innate masculine alarm that should go off and make a man grab the other guy and pull him off the boy and commence to whooping his ass? I've seen men fight over much less. (As a child, I remember seeing a man haul off and start fighting some other guy in a TGIFriday's just because the other guy was rooting for a different football team.) Now I'm not saying that if a woman had of stumbled upon something like that, she has an excuse to walk away. She would be just as accountable as McQuery for not trying to break that ish up and calling the police, but it really shocks me that a man would not have went to the more primitive side of his brain and (like I said before) commenced with the ass whooping without a second thought.

As an Adult

I remember getting the "if something happens to you, tell an adult" speech ad-nauseum as a child. And as a child, this solidified 2 things for me. #1 - it taught me that adults are going to handle situations the right way. And if something is going wrong, I could always find relief in knowing that a grown-up is going to help me. (F-, I'm choking up just typing this). And #2 - it taught me that part of my job - when I became an adult - was to help kids because . . . well, that's just what grownups are supposed to do. So the one thing I couldn't wait for was to become a grown up. And now that I am an adult - I still feel the same way. It's a part of my job to look out for children, animals, hell - anyone who doesn't have a say. So if a kid came up to me in the store and said, "Help! I can't find my Mommy." I wouldn't say, "Sorry kid, you're on your own." I would jump through whatever hoop I need to jump through in order to get this kid to their parent - because as an adult, that's what you do. You use your years of reasoning ability, life experiences, and knowledge of social norms to solve problems. So it is beyond me, as an adult, why none of these men didn't think to call the Police immediately much less stop that man from doing what he was doing WHILE he was in the act of doing it. Actually, I understand that there were a lot different things at play but the idea of an adult not being . . . well, an adult - it shocks me. And I couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be a child and to be completely helpless even though I am surrounded by a bunch of so-called adults.

And last but not least . . .

As an American

Maybe I've watched too much Batman, or Superman, Spiderman, Captain America, Ironman, etc. You get my drift. Maybe I've been brainwashed to believe that every day guys can be super heroes. Remember this? When I think of this kind of cover up, I imagine some back woods, un-developed country somewhere with no laws set up to protect children. Either way, with the Catholic church and other cases in America of organizations being protected rather than children . . . I guess I should have known better. In this country, we celebrate people for being great coaches, and great business people and great entertainers. But when an organic opportunity for glory reveals itself - I guess that's when you find out whether someone is truly great . . . or not.

Speaking of which, today is November 11th, 2011 or 11/11/11. And it's also Veteran's day. I don't support war in any shape, size or form but this holiday is definitely not lost on me. My cousin is in Iraq at this very second, and I pray every day that he returns safely. So, I just wanted to acknowledge all of the men and women who have died and/or put their lives on the line for their countries.

I Could Use a Hug . . . and Maybe a Cheeseburger

2011-11-09T19:35:00.000-08:00

So today, I had a mini breakdown. Here's how it all started...

A week ago, I got an email from my supervisor (from a seasonal job) asking me if I could come in and help him with an audit. I gladly agreed to come in, because with all of the insurance stuff and the sudden popups of invitations to hang out with friends (more on that later), I could use the quick buck. I got there and the first thing he asked me about was the insurance gig that I took on in NJ. I tried to defend it the best I could but my colleague saw right through it. "Don't you feel like you're moving backward?" he said. And there it was. I died a little inside.

For the rest of the day at work, I filed papers and looked at Youtube videos of people - most of them younger than me - living my dream. For the rest of the day, I thought to myself, "What the farfutnoogen have I been doing wrong? How come I get an idea to do something and then just sit on my ass and not do it? Are all of my failures stemming from laziness, or just a fear of trying?"

Now I know I've written about this before, but . . . I dunno . . . after today, I just really got angry and to tell you the truth, I'm still angry. I guess it's because I have no one to blame but myself. It doesn't help that I just got my 10 year high school anniversary invitation on FB today. I'm feeling like I'm running out of time. I'm feeling like I need to really hustle and make a major move. Like Japan style . . . you know, get on an airplane and as one of my best friends would say "get sh** done." But it's like, I just picked up this insurance gig. I need the money and it would be hard for me to get things done if I didn't have some disposable income. Am I sabotaging myself? I have a pre-test to take tomorrow and then the real test to take on Friday and I haven't studied one bit. (I'm staring at the insurance website right now.) Wtf?!

What I really want to do is write. I want to write and produce/direct and edit for TV. I worked as an editor at a dead end job for 6 years before moving to Japan to free myself. But now I'm back and I have a ton of ideas and have even written them out. I have the camera and equipment. But actually taking the time to really commit is something that I have never done and I don't know why. Actually, I do know why. I expected to make a break-through using the connections and experiences I cultivated at (what turned out to be) that dead-end job also, I am full of fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. Either way, I'm just having some doubts about myself. I guess everybody reaches that point in their life. And the boyfriend is even worse off than I am. He has the time and the money but no idea where to start or what to do. (It doesn't help that he's a major procrastinator). But the closer and closer I get to signing the contract with this company, the more it feels like falling out of an airplane with a broken parachute. This is that part in the movie where someone grabs me by the shoulders and says "Pull yourself together!" after of course, slapping me in the face.

So that's where I'm at right now. A quarter life crisis. (Actually, it's more like a third life crisis) *shivers* Don't get old kids. And by old, I mean 28.

Maybe We Do Have Bad Attitudes

2011-11-07T12:42:00.000-08:00

I may piss a lot of people off with this one but who the hell cares? This is my blog and I can say what I wanna. (Now that the unwarranted, guilt-ridden self-defensive statement is out of the way . . . ) One of my best friends was on the Anderson Cooper show on Friday with her boyfriend. The show was talking about interracial relationships (my friend is a white woman and her man is black.) Well, at some point in the show, a black lady made a comment that she's disgusted when she sees black men with white women and that black men only date white women because they're more submissive and blah-blah-blah (I wasn't really listening). The comment was ignorant (in my opinion) and personally, I thought the whole thing (the show, the topic, etc.) was silly to begin with. I think the show was promoting the book Is Marriage for White People which is a stupid question. Truth be told, I was only watching it to support my buddy. Who really gives a rat's ass about interracial dating nowadays? (Again, my humble opinion) Either way, after she spoke, Anderson went over to my friends and asked them what they thought about the lady's comment. Tyrone said that he was disgusted with it, but he also said that White women do have more of an easy-going/bubbly attitude. My friend, Sarah (after mentioning that she has black female friends - that would be me yall, lol) then kind of reinforces her man's words by saying that yeah, Black women can be a little defensive.

I laughed at the "oohs" that she got from the audience. Of course, Jacque Reed jumped in and explained Black women's viewpoint (or whatever) as to our anger and pain or something (still not really listening). I guess the whole thing just went over my head. Granted, I am a black woman. This is an undeniable truth. But as someone who's spent a lot of time on the receiving end of judgements, anger and nastiness of my sisters (and I mean "sistahs" not my biological sisters, though they have had their days); I can honestly raise the question that maybe - just maybe - we do have some f**ed up attitudes. It goes without saying that there are plenty of White women (and Asian and Hispanic - just women in general) with bad attitudes, but I can only speak from my experiences as a Black woman (who has had to defend myself against the stereotype my whole life.)

I don't have a lot of black female friends. I have about 2 to tell you the truth. Other than them, I have a couple white girlfriends, hispanic and now a few Japanese girlfriends. In the grand scheme of things, as someone who's grown up in the housing projects (surrounded by Black women, mind you), in a small poor neighborhood, pledged a Black sorority, minored in African American Studies in school, and jumped through damn near every hoop that most Black woman have to jump through (dealing with Black men, going to church, self-esteem issues, racism, sexism, etc.) - I've still emerged with only two Black female friends who are not in my family. 2. And one of them is in my sorority - so that feels a little "default-ish" too.

Either way, I've always been someone with a friendly personality. I'm uninhibited with who I talk to and have been known to be friendly and very "unassuming." To the point where a good amount of Black women have questioned my blackness and the ones who didn't just assumed that something was a little off with me. And throughout all of the rejection, I used to defend my sisters. To the point where I would be extra nice in situations where I didn't have to be. I've listened to Black men rant about Black women and I've attempted to defend "us" and be "the voice of reason" as if I could explain it all. Truth was, I couldn't. I barely had two black girlfriends to rub together. There were times when I'd seen sistahs go in on people for some of the stupidest shit that I could not in a thousand lifetimes explain. Hell, there were times when sistahs have gone in on me, for some dumb shit - and I had no idea how to react. It was like I was a member of a gang and I didn't know our "colors" or gang signs. (I remember back in college, one of my sorority sisters was telling me that she wanted a girl to join our sorority because she and the girl were ready to fight at one point. She said that this was the kind of toughness that she wanted in our "clique." I just looked at her confused. Why would you want someone with a jacked up attitude to work with you side by side in a sorority? Wouldn't you want a nice person to do like sisterly stuff with - you know, sisterhood?) Either way, I guess this was why I didn't (and don't) have a lot of Black female friends. That attitude is part of the "strong" "real" "take-no-mess" category that we like to put ourselves into and frankly . . . I don't have have it. It doesn't make me weak, or fake or submissive, but it definitely makes me a little different. And part of coming into my own was accepting this fact about myself - and honestly, about my sistahs.

Now I don't necessarily believe that there is a correlation between Black women's attitudes and the whole lack of marriage "crisis" in the Black community. With my rainbow coalition of friends, I get to see the whole perspective - and the truth is, my Japanese girlfriends (and white girlfriends) are singing the same tunes that my Black sisters are belting out (about not enough good men to go around). And personally, I've had just as many Black men repulsed at my bubbly personality as there were ones who were delighted by it. (It's just a matter of preference). Just the other day, I walked over to one of the two Black dudes at the Meet and Greet for my job and you should have seen the quick eye-roll he had for me. It wasn't until the rest of the peeps there started shaking my hand and talking to me, that he realized that I was "cool beans" and he began to converse a little as well. It was like he realized that I didn't have the attitude . . . he did. (That's what I like to call getting the "pre-attitude" attitude - something that I get a lot of as a BW.) So yeah, Black men have a little work to do in the attitude department as well. But when it comes down to my sistahs, I am not defending anyone anymore. The only black female I will defend is myself and just because I'm a black woman doesn't mean that I don't have to deal with bad attitudes from other Black females. I hate dealing with that mess too. Shoot! lol

Spooky Stories

2011-11-01T18:05:00.000-07:00

So this post may be two days later than Halloween and maybe it's sparked by all of the ghosts, goblins and werewolves that have been featured on TV lately but not too long ago I couldn't get to sleep. I was creeped out and just plain disturbed. For some odd reason, every scary thing that I'd ever witnessed in life suddenly came to the forefront of my mind. It was like the weight of the world was on my shoulders and I couldn't stop my mind from moving one thousand miles per hour thinking about each and every little thing.

Womanly sidebar: Maybe it doesn't help that the hormones are kind of raging right now. But I still don't want to belittle how I felt. The ish was real.

I truly believe that there is more to this world than what we see. Halloween night, I had a bunch of things going on in my mind that went a lot deeper than the ghost stories that I'm about to tell. But I'll save that for another post and just share some of the spooky things that crossed my mind while I lay in bed, trying to make sense of it all.

Story #1 - The Time I Got Attacked By a Hair Roller

I was about 8 or 9 years old and scared of EVERY little THING. I didn't want to go anywhere alone because I felt like I was going to encounter something horrible or creepy and no one would be around to witness it or save me. Either way, nothing scared me more than being upstairs when everyone else was downstairs or being downstairs when everyone else was upstairs. And when I found myself in that compromising situation, I made sure to take slow deliberate steps (in order to give all of the monsters enough time to get out of sight, of course) and I made sure to keep my mental blinders on (so I didn't have to worry about catching a glimpse of anything out of the corner of my eye). I also called down to my family every few minutes (so - you know - they could be sure I was still alive). So one day, I ventured upstairs to get something out of my dresser. I must have been in a brave mood that day, because I don't remember the walk upstairs taking the usual 15 minutes. Either way, I'm standing in front of my dresser and there's a bunch of junk on it. Pictures, little boxes of things, scraps of paper and one of those little pink rollers with the foam cylinder in the middle. I don't really remember what I was doing up to that point, but I do remember the hair roller suddenly levitating. It shakily flew up into the hair at my eye level. I just stood there trying to understand what was going on when the next thing I knew, it was coming toward my face. The levitating roller began hitting me over and over again. I closed my eyes tight and swatted at it. It lasted for about five agonizing seconds. Suddenly, in one smooth move, it gingerly returned to the top of the dresser - about one foot away from where it levitated in the first place. I stood for a split second longer, looking around. Then I ran as fast as I could down the stairs, screaming. I told everyone who would listen. "I was attacked! A hair roller flew in the air and attacked me!" My family, of course, was amused and this was immediately added to the archives of strange things that have happened to me. Now here's the funny part to this story. I have a twin sister (with whom I shared the bedroom) and this sister swears up and down that she was there when it happened. Of course, I argued with her for the first couple of years that nobody was there. I told her that I'd looked around and didn't see anyone. I ran down the stairs and didn't encounter anyone until I reached the living room. I asked her what she was doing while I was being attacked - so on, so forth. She adamantly defended her stance and surprisingly, she could tell me in detail everything that happened - down to the way the roller returned to the dresser. And strangely, after a while, she began to appear in my memory - standing at the top of the stairs, watching in disbelief as I got attacked . . . by a hair roller. To this day, I'll never know whether she was really there or not. Maybe it's one of those twin things (you know, shared memories or whatever) but it wouldn't be the first time and it definitely wasn't the last.

Story #2 - The Fat Demon

My family (which consisted of my mom and two sisters) and I lived around the corner from my aunt and her two daughters. Every so often, we would go and visit them. Now let me preface this story to say that (with the exception of myself and my sisters) we have some big ladies in my family. My Aunt (who has lost some weight since then) was a big lady, my mother - a big lady and one of my Aunt's daughter's was (and still is) a "thickums" as well.

So, I had to have been maybe 10 or 11 years old and just sitting around with my sisters while my mom and Aunt talked. I needed to use the bathroom and so I ran upstairs to do so. Now my aunt's apartment was set up the same way that my family's apartment was set up. The bathroom was straight ahead up the stairs. To the right of the bathroom was a utility closet and to the right of that was two bedrooms. Upon going up the stairs, I saw that one of the bedroom doors - the one closest to the bathroom - was open. Curiosity struck, and I went against my better judgement of putting my mental blinders on and glanced in the direction of the room. Inside the dark room, sprawled out on the bed, was a really fat woman who appeared to have horns. I assumed it was my fat (and mean) cousin L and kept it moving. Whilst sitting on the toilet I started thinking to myself. That couldn't have possibly been L. She's not that big. I mean . . . she's big . . . but that lady seemed to take up the whole bed! Besides, that lady's hair looked funny and L has braids right now. But it couldn't of had been Aunt C because she's downstairs talking with mom. I decided to get one good, long look at the person in the room before going back downstairs. Just to be sure. So on my way out, I stopped and turned to my left. This time, I was not glancing. I was looking - taking it all in. But no matter how hard I looked, I could not see the woman's face clearly. It was clear that it was a person. There was no doubt about that. Her legs were like two large trunks shooting out from beneath a large stomach and huge, breasts that rolled down on either side of her body. Her dark face remained shadowy, but even darker were the small horns shooting out from either side of her head. I immediately took a step back and ran down the stairs. For some odd reason, I couldn't digest the image that I'd just seen. I attempted to justify it. Aunt C's in the kitchen right now. Maybe at some point, she decided to go upstairs and take a quick 5 minute nap. Maybe it was a bunch of blankets, piled up together and it looked like a person. The room was dark. Maybe my cousin L is pregnant and decided to take a nap in her mother's room. That's it. I told myself I would go with that one. Later on, my twin sister asked to go to the bathroom. This was a perfect opportunity. As she went up the stairs, I waited for the scream. Nothing. When she walked back down, 5 minutes later, I looked at her face intently, checking to see if she looked scared or shocked. Nothing. The afternoon went on and I heard my mom ask my aunt, "Where are your kids?"

My Aunt - "They're out. Q is with her friends and I don't know where L went. Husband's at work, so it's just me today." At that point, I gave up. I didn't know what it was that I saw, but I figured that it must have been a figment of my crazy imagination. When it was time to go, we all hopped into my mom's mini-van and headed home. Everyone was unusually quiet. I was going to mention the fat lady, but then changed my mind and just stared out the window. Then suddenly my twin sister said, "So who was that really fat lady with horns laying on Aunt C's bed?"

Story #3 - The Dark Hand

I'll keep this story quick, because I didn't mean to write so much up to this point anyway. But this story, for me, is the most disturbing of them all. Maybe because no one was around to experience it except me. Maybe also, because it was an encounter with some otherworldly thing actually touching me. Either way, it was after my bedtime and I was maybe about eleven or twelve years old. I wanted to go downstairs to get some water but was deathly afraid. I creaked down the loud stairway, maybe spending two minutes on each stair working up my nerve. Finally I reached the 5th step - 6 more stairs to go. I could see the living room now. I looked around the room, probably longer than I should have. The room was dark, and I kept looking at the mirror on the wall in the living room - the only thing that reflected any light. My fear was building and I could feel my heart beating. I didn't want to move another step down the stairs because this would mean that I was farther away from everyone else. I willed my foot to take another step but it wasn't happening so I stood creaking back and forth on the same stair. I continued to look out on the scary room that I wanted so desperately to enter. I took a deep shivery breath and wished the room was brighter so that I could really see what I was getting myself into. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. For a split second, I thought it could have been a family member until I looked down and saw a black hand, blacker than anything I'd ever seen. It gave a light, but firm squeeze and then disappeared into thin air. I almost killed myself trying to get up those stairs. It took years for me to ever go anywhere alone.

And those are a few horror stories that in my book, prove that there is more going on in life than the Republican Debates, the NBA lockout and Kim Kardashian.

Selling Out and other Randomness

2011-10-22T19:07:00.001-07:00

It's not really official yet . . . but I gots a job. I will be working in sales at an insurance agency. Definitely not my first choice, but hey - work is work. At this point, I need to make as much money as I can and fortunately, this job has no commission cap. So I will hit the ground running and trying to get as many people as humanly possible, and with the amount of ~~desperation~~ hunger I have going on, I could see myself selling the sh** out of some insurance.

Granted, it won't be my proudest job. I was lamenting with the manfriend the other day about why I didn't go to school to become a doctor or something that added true value to the world like engineering or teaching, etc. But whatever, I can't do anything about it now. The economy is in the toilet, the price of education in this country is a f**ing nightmare and getting hired for the jobs that I am qualified for (Video Production) is practically impossible. This is truly one of those times in my life where I have to tap into some of my most unappealing survival instincts (greed, shameless-ness, numbness, aggressiveness and just plain not caring-ness) in order to accept the fact that I may just have to live my entire life without realizing ANY of my post-college dreams. Adapt or die, I guess.

*Sigh*

On the brighter side, it will give me something to do all day. And that can't hurt. I guess the main reason I'm feeling a little shamelessly "sell out-ish" is because I can't take it anymore. I don't want to continue to sacrifice my comfort in hopes of landing and/or working my way up to a great job that I'm passionate about. Now my passion has shifted to just making money. It's shifted to I want a washer/dryer - in my home. I want a home. I want to be a grown up and go to the dentist. Sometimes I feel guilty about that because I feel like I'm letting go of my dreams and moving back to the state that I was born in and settling for mediocrity - but the sad part is that, there's a large part of me that just feels numb about the whole thing. My mom says I will perk up once I actually start working. I think she's right.

On the human front - I want to get into cooking a bit more again. I'm pleased to find out that the majority of my friends have been tapping into their domesticated sides as well, so expect some posts about joint cooking sessions. I have some amazing new recipes.

So what's been getting my attention lately, you ask? (I know you didn't ask, but I don't care). Well, I heard about some 14 yr. old girl giving some guy a blow job at school with a bunch of other guys around watching. First of all, come on generation X . . . let's get it together. This is no bueno! I've also heard that the poor gal is getting a lot of mess for it too and personally, I think people should just give her a break. Sometimes the stupidity of what you did is enough punishment. (And I think everybody who is past the age of 25 and has made some mistakes in their life knows exactly what I'm talking about.) There are things that I've said and done that NOBODY but me and God knows about, and to this day I feel ashamed and angry at myself. So you know this girl must be kicking herself. But then again . . . with this generation . . . who knows?

I'm still intrigued, inspired and supportive of Occupy (insert place here). This is finally the reaction I've been expecting to see from the American people when it comes to all of the crazy stuff that's been happening as of late (like the banks getting bailed out a couple years back, or the economy taking a nose dive, or the monkey business going on in Congress). I like the idea that folks are starting to realize that electing someone (whether black, white, man, woman) doesn't mean that your needs are automatically going to get met and if you want something done you have to actually start demanding it yourself. I absolutely hate politics for that very reason. It tricks people into thinking that voting is the answer to all of their problems. (Nothing annoys me more than the "Vote or Die" people) And since we are only looking for individuals who are good at winning elections, we're not realizing that beyond the election - there should be some kind of improvement on American life regardless of who the candidate is. It doesn't matter if I voted for Mickey Mouse or didn't vote at all . . . if I pay taxes, I have a right to expect/demand certain things, point blank - period. And it's good to see that people seem to be understanding that now. I may go downtown to check out the Occupy Philadelphia movement this week, who knows?

What else?

Oh! I twitters. I'm still getting the hang of it but the name is Arnetta Green so follow me and I will gladly reciprocate. :-)

Last but not least . . .

I'm trying to do a diet. I have the Lose-It application on my iPad and it allows me to count each and every calorie. And I'M STARVING! I made the mistake of checking out one of my favorite blogs omg . . . awesome! and now I want to eat whatever I can get my hands on. I've counted calories using this app before, and it was just as difficult the last time. But right now I'm the biggest I've ever been and I'm trying to lose this 15 lbs. so I can feel like myself again. Hopefully, it'll all be worth it but got-dang it's hard. I didn't know that I was eating so many calories every day. It's like I'll eat a slice of bread and some meat and before I know it I've hit my 1500 calorie budget. I guess the trick is to eat more veggies because the meats and cheeses are seriously kicking my booty. Ugghhhh! A pork chop commercial just came on. Time to go to bed ( . . . and cry.)

Goodnight folks!

Occupy My Couch

2011-10-18T16:02:00.001-07:00

All of this Occupy Wall Street business is really making me want to jump up off of this couch and get involved. Unfortunately, I can't afford that right now and have been continuing to get my job-hunt on. It hasn't stopped me from doing a silent fist-pump of defiance, however. I really admire what the OWS peeps are doing and hope that it will cause congress/large corporations to really change how they've been doing things if not out of respect for the American people, for the fear of them.

Good day, folks!

The Down-Side and the Up-Side

2011-10-04T10:00:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while.

But to catch you up the interview never happened. I have never had so many things go wrong in one day. Long story short, it felt like the heavens opened up and the Universe took a sh** on my life. I don't really want to write down a lot of detail, but my boyfriend's car broke down on the way there and the rest went down in bad story history. Of course, no recruiter wants to hear a sob story about a broke down car or someone having to be late so my job prospect went up in smoke.

But out of the flames of this tragedy comes a phoenix of hope. Immediately after everything went down, my best friend invited me over to drown my tears in a glass of wine. I took a couple days to myself to rest and rethink my next move. After this, I started to realize that in order to survive, I'm going to have to lead my own destiny. I can't continue to beg someone to hire me. That's obviously not working. I have to create my own income. Maybe it's fear, maybe it's anger . . . but whatever the case is, I'm fed up. I have the education, the drive, the resources and it's time to stop basing my survival on someone else's perception of me. At the end of the day, my future can't rest on the shoulders of some middle-aged, white lady from human resources. I have to take my future into my own hands. And I'm ready to do that.

Job Interview - A Poem

2011-09-16T11:00:00.000-07:00

Could there be an end to this long, dark economic tunnel of despair?

Far off, yonder.

Well, actually Tuesday at 12pm.

There may be hope.

And I can be a real grown up.

With dental benefits.

And so I wait.

Here goes nothing.

Should Have Written This Yesterday

2011-09-12T08:22:00.001-07:00

I found out that the World Trade Center had been struck after walking into my Logic and Reasoning class. It was my freshman year of college and my first day of class. The room was empty except for two girls who were, like me, looking around confused. A fourth student, a guy, runs into the room and says breathlessly "The World Trade Center's been hit!"

"Don't say that!" one girl says.

The other girl says, "That's not funny."

"No. It's true," the guy said with a big smile on his face. "It was hit by some airplanes. It's on TV now." To be honest, it was his smile that convinced me that he was telling the truth. As someone who's always smiled or laughed hysterically after learning something horrible, I recognized his crazed reaction. Embarrassingly, I never really knew a lot about the World Trade Center, but I knew this was a huge deal and practically ran back to my dorm room.

In my dorm room, with one of the guys from my Logic Class, we watched in disbelief as they played the video footage of the airplanes hitting the towers. They played the video over and over and over again on every news station. The guy (I forget his name) told me about how he's from North New Jersey and grew up seeing the Twin Towers every day. He said that he even lived in New York and had a ton of family there. I related to him that my sister had just moved from New York this year and that she was up there a week ago getting some things done. This was a person that I barely knew but we became friends based on this shared tragedy and it was like we were coming to terms with how we were all connected in some bizarre way, to this horrible event.

Funny thing, I was really numb that day. For some odd reason, as far as I could see, I was fine. I didn't shed a tear. I wasn't hindered from doing anything I wouldn't normally do. Everything was just . . . normal. Of course, I was upset about the towers and sad for the people that lost their lives, but I don't remember being scared and I even remember being a little happy that class was cancelled. It wasn't until later that I realized that 9/11 had changed my life forever.

One day, I don't remember when exactly, but an airplane had been flying overhead. And I freaked. out. I'm talking about crouching to the ground, closing my eyes and putting my hands over my ears. Freaked out. It was then that it hit me. My life would never be the same. Before 9/11, I would have never been afraid like that. In fact, I'd always been excited to see an airplane flying overhead. But after September 11th, every couple of years, I would have dreams about airplanes flying into my home or the homes of friends and family. It was like all of the pain and devastation that had hit so many people all at once on that one day, took years to reach full capacity in my conscious mind. And I was finally feeling the pain and anger and sadness that I'd seemingly lacked on September 11th 2001.

So, that's my experience. I haven't had the airplane dreams in a while but I still get a horrible sinking feeling when I see a low flying airplane (or even a high one, sometimes). It's just a part of my life now. Just as the increased security at airports and the constant "threat of terror" that finds its way into political rhetoric. These are things that are now just a part of our lives as Americans and the fact that I remember how things were before it got this way, gives me some serious pause.

I believe that one day, we (and I mean mankind as a whole) are going to see the light. Life without violence, or warfare or terror anywhere in the world. Days of destruction and hatred will be over and war will be a thing of the past. Tragedies such as the one that happened on September 11th are a sobering reminder that we haven't gotten there yet. But it will forever serve as a wake up call that will lead to our enlightenment. And in that sense, everyone who lost their lives did not die in vain. My prayers go out to them and their families as well as the friends and families of everyone in the world who has lost their lives in an unnecessary tragedy.

What Should I Read?

2011-09-02T10:22:00.000-07:00

So now that I'm actively writing in my blog again, I've decided that it's important for me to start getting back to actually reading blogs again. Unfortunately, upon checking the old blogroll I realize that all of my favorite writers haven't posted in over a year. (It's like we all went into "blog hibernation" at the same time.) Either way, I need some new sites to follow. So if anybody is reading this . . . if anybody is out there . . . please, give me some suggestions. I would love to know "what's hot on the skreets" right now. For the time being, I will continue to send out subliminal messages to the likes of my fellow hibernators who have yet to reemerge from their caves . . . come baaaaaack!!! lol (okay, not so subliminal). Either way, thank God for the ones who have continued to write - see my blog roll - you guys are gangster!

Last Night

2011-08-31T12:13:00.000-07:00

I found myself reaching for my blanket . . . Uh oh.

Methinks

2011-08-30T13:03:00.000-07:00

Damn it all. Will work for food.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life?

2011-08-29T14:08:00.000-07:00

So today while on a walk with my pup, I realized that I have a fear of commitment. Rather, I should say that I realized how deep my fear of commitment actually ran. It's so deep that I haven't really finished anything in life. I mean, like I haven't committed to anything from start to finish. Writing blogs, reading books, writing screenplays, my relationship (and relationships in general), jobs, projects, diets, the list goes on and on and on. This idea crept up on me in the middle of the park while attempting to read a book. And to tell you the truth, I'm a little shocked by it.

So, I'm fighting my first urge which is to experience guilt and feelings of failure which is my body's natural defense against coming up with real solutions. Instead I've decided to dig into this a little; do a little soul searching. Why don't I finish anything? Why do I suddenly just drop things never to return and complete them? It didn't take long for me to come up with this simple answer: I drop things in life when I no longer want to do them anymore, when they become unpleasant or I'm distracted by something shinier and especially when they become too much work - which, to be honest, depends on the day and what kind of mood I'm in. (There are some exceptions like employment and school, but best believe I've left plenty of jobs as soon as another opportunity arose.)

But upon looking back at the different situations, I ask myself Could I have stayed longer? And the answer, sadly, is no. Followed by Why should I? Why stay in a situation that is unpleasant in order to prove a point? But I guess that's where I've been wrong all of this time. Because that doesn't make up for all of the unfinished books, blogs, journals, screenplays, relationships, projects, diets, and whatever else I decide to pick up and then leave by the wayside. Finishing those things wouldn't prove a point. They would be accomplishing a goal. So I've decided that my year starts now . . . in the month of September. And my goal is to finish EVERY SINGLE THING that I have started in life.

These things include . . .

10 books

2 blogs

15 Paintings

3 screenplays

Finish whatever it is I've been trying to knit

840 hours of service

A solid work-out regimen

Lose 15 lbs.

Get married or get off the pot, so-to-speak

Hem the curtain in my living room

Purge my house and throw out all unnecessary items

And visit my friends in Texas and California

There! Think I can do it?

No matter how difficult it gets to do these things, the one thing that I will constantly remind myself (and oddly, it actually consoles me a little) is that life is full of things that we don't want to do. And everyday, the "go-getters" get themselves up and do these things. They go to the gym and work out or jog down the street before the rest of us even get out of bed and they finish their screenplays and manuscripts. They paint masterpieces and sew sweaters, do housework and grow gardens. And at the end of that long day, they read a book before turning off the lights and sleeping only to do it all again. And I will only be successful if I learn to stay in that mode. Fortunately, I can say I've done it before. It's just sticking with it that I have to learn to do . . . as with everything else.

Wish me luck!

Hide Your Kids, Hide Your Wife . . . Irene is Coming!

2011-08-27T07:31:00.000-07:00

Hurricane Irene is supposed to be one of the biggest storms to hit the East Coast in over 50 years and today is the big day she'll greet us with her presence. So after a busy day of preparation - washing clothes, freezing water, grocery shopping - we wait. The stores have been packed with people stocking up on water, batteries and flashlights. All kinds of events have shut down - including some oldie's party at my mom's apartment complex tonight and a church convention my Aunt was going to this weekend. People have been comparing the impending storm to Hurricane Katrina, which (knock-on-wood) is a strong exaggeration. But it's supposed to be big. The national news has been reporting on this storm and warning people not to leave their homes. And most people are taking heed to this advice because nobody wants to take the chance of being caught in the rain, being hit by a tree or getting blown away by the wind. Nobody . . . except for my dad.

You see, his retirement party is today. And as far as my dad is concerned, nobody is going to take that away from him . . . not even God himself. He has worked too hard and done too much for people not to come to his shindig. The storm's going to be outside and the party's inside, so . . . no big deal, right? Either way, there is no convincing him to re-plan this thing and I'm really shocked the Fire hall didn't forbid his usage of the facility in the first place. I just hope that he won't be too disappointed when people start to cancel. And I really hope that nobody gets hurt trying to drive to his thing. As for me . . . I live an hour and a half away from where this event is going to be. The drive would be treacherous. In the case that this HUGE hurricane turns out to be a glorified drizzle, I'll go. But for some odd reason, I doubt it.

:-(

Blog Update - The retirement party has since been cancelled. Thank you Jesus!

Monkeys and Monkey Business

2011-08-25T07:49:00.000-07:00

Saw Planet of the Apes and I'm back in "Ebert" mode. It was awesome! The monkeys climbing everywhere, looking like angry little humans. I was the only douche-bag saying "awwww!" at all the wrong times.

The gorilla escapes from the cage for the first time . . . awwww!!!

Caesar bashes some guy's head in . . . awwww!!!

The orangutan . . . well, I don't know. Just awwww!!!

The concept was good, and I could really sympathize with those simians. Probably because of my current situation. For some reason, seeing the oppression and hopelessness of the apes just trying to get through the day (maybe I'm internalizing this, LOL) reminded me of being unemployed.

I've really been in "fight the man" mode which is probably not good for getting a job. Thank goodness my "power to the people" moments have mainly been in the privacy of my own home and not on the internets (except here) or the streets. In my job hunting life, I try to keep it as professional as humanly possible. But that's kind of the problem. It seems to me that the new thing is to go beyond professionalism, go beyond just applying for a job and try to actually pal around with the recruiters. Facebook them, Tweet them, Linked-in them, Google plus them. Impress them, wow them. RAZZLE DAZZLE them. If you think I'm being a smart-@ss, you're right. I am. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid. I've been following the advice, seeking out recruiters and networking my booty off but really I find the process demeaning and ridiculous. I miss the days where you could apply to a job and know that your resume is just as likely to get an interview if you didn't kiss the recruiter's butt. Getting a leg up on the competition meant having a good resume and mailing it off early, maybe walking into the office and handing it to someone as opposed to nowadays where you have to practically go to the secretary's home and sleep at the foot of their bed.

And I honestly think that it's getting to the recruiters' heads. For example, I was reading an article "Tips for Cover Letters" or "What Not to Put on a Cover Letter" (something like that) and the recruiter was talking about how irritated they were that someone put To Whom It May Concern as an opening. It was as if they were offended that the person didn't directly address them by name. "Just do a little research - call the company and ask for a name or just go on the website." Personally, I've done both of those things and 90% of the time, that information is not going to be open to the public. Companies generally don't put recruiter information on websites - I've checked. And I've called companies and received the, "We're not taking any phone calls, please just put 'To Whom It May Concern' on the cover letter" response on more than one occasion.

To be fair, though, I know that these are mechanisms used in order to weed people out. I know that the job market is inundated with job seekers and Human Resources does not have the time (or energy) to look at every single applicant. So in order to cancel people out immediately, they nit-pick and find offense with things that don't really matter. And it's my job, as the applicant, to figure out what those things are regardless of my qualifications and skill. And I also have to be willing to overlook the unprofessionalism that is involved with the folks that do the hiring at these companies. In other words, I have to know how to be an "employee" before I get hired.

Here's a horror story for ya, last year the manfriend applied to a job with a major corporation. After several weeks of vetting and two phone interviews, he drove for 4 hours to the company and interviewed with 5 or 6 people. Immediately after, he did a follow up interview and completed an evaluation of the interview process as well as an essay detailing his experience. He jumped through all of these hoops which were required by the company and received no feedback whatsoever. He called occasionally, maybe once every 2 weeks to find out his status and after maybe 6 months of no responses, he found out that they'd already hired someone else for the job. And this is after the man had sent in so much paperwork, you would have thought he was already an employee.

So I think this is what we have to look forward to in this economy. The last time I had to do this kind of indirect vetting and 'insider information' espionage-like, popularity contest interviewing without any kind of feedback, was when I was pledging my sorority. And to be honest, I think anybody looking for a job nowadays would probably agree. It's just like pledging. But you do what you gotta do. So I'm off to do some more networking. Just needed to get some things off my chest.

Just Saw The Help

2011-08-21T19:10:00.001-07:00

So I just saw the movie The Help and being that the manfriend doesn't want to hear me go on and on about it, I figured I'd just give my thoughts on here. First things first, I think it was a good movie. Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer did a wonderful job portraying the hard working women that paved the way for Black people today with dignity and grace. As for Emma Stone, she can do no wrong in my book and everybody else did a marvelous job of making me hate them, so I guess that means the acting and storyline was pretty good. The best thing about this movie, in my opinion, is the reaction it gets. Anytime the film industry takes it upon themselves to remember that Black folk even exist and decide to make a movie about us, we start to get a little sensitive. If I could turn my theater seat around and watch the audience, I would. But to tell you the truth, everybody in the audience today absolutely loved it so there was not much to see.

Just yesterday, I was hanging out with my best friend and she was telling me that the movie was forced upon her. She said she didn't want to see it and as far as the book was concerned, she couldn't get past the first chapter. She said the Black people sounded like slaves and the White people were way too racist for her to spend her leisure time getting angry about. I'd read the book and enjoyed it. I thought it was well done and brought up a subject that was worthy of discussion. If anything, I was disappointed that a Black person didn't think to write this book and tell the real story of the women that lived during that time. But it's probably just one of those things that we've just always taken for granted. "My momma cleaned other people's houses just to put food on our table," so on and so forth. I don't know how many times I've heard that and to tell you the truth, my mom has actually raised white children (and some black, lol) as well as cleaned houses and did whatever she had to do to put food on our table so I can definitely relate but never thought to write a story like that.

Anywhoosers, I don't wonder what it would be like to live in that day. To be honest, the only thing I really wonder about is how good the food was (considering that everything was fresher). Shallow, I know . . . but everything else doesn't really, I don't know, get me angry in the way that maybe I'm supposed to be. I mean I get that it was bad. I understand that innocent Black people were hung, shot and murdered all kinds of ways. I know that. Hell, I have an uncle who was lynched back in the 50's. And while I get angry looking at how things were, there's a certain part of me that really shuts off. Maybe it's a coping mechanism but it's kind of hard for my mind not to go numb when I watch the retardedness that went on in those days. There was a point, I think the first time someone used the "N" word in the movie, the Black lady next to me gasped. I turned and rolled my eyes at her like, Really? You're shocked? Or the scene where the White guy commands the maid to make him a sandwich. And again, the lady next to me goes "Wow!" Her reaction kind of made me laugh a little. Sometimes I think that maybe I'm not mentally removed at all. Maybe it's the people who are still shocked that these kinds of atrocities have happened that are removed. I don't think that it was right that the past was so horrible, but I'm far from shocked. Especially with the ignorance that we see going on today.

Like, I feel like I'm always gasping and "wowing" about things that are happening now. Constantly looking around like, "So what are we going to do about this?" And most times people look at me like I was looking at the lady in the movie theater today. Really? You're shocked? Of course I'm shocked. I guess my mind equates ignorance and inequality with the past. It's when I see people being abused and discriminated against nowadays that I really get upset. Will there ever be a time in America's history when one group is NOT being disenfranchised? Or better yet, will there ever be a time when we don't have to actually fight against our own government for what should be "self evident" rights? (Health care, education, the right to work, a clean planet, decent food standards, etc.)

All right, I guess I need to take down my "fight the power" flags and get my butt to bed.

So I'll just end it on this note . . . I greatly appreciate the acknowledgment to the maids who were a significant part of American society in those days and absolutely love the dignified treatment with which their stories were told. Go and see The Help. T'was good!

Blerb From My Life

2011-08-21T15:00:00.000-07:00

Me: Let's go to the movies.

Him: Sure! Wanna see The Help?

Me: Yeah, I'd love to see that movie about your Mama.

Him: Well, you know what movie about your mama, I'd like to see? . . . Fright Night.

Me: Or we could see that movie about your Daddy . . . Rise of Planet of the Apes.

Him: Or we could see that move about your Daddy. (pause for dramatic effect) . . . Missing.

Lol, he got me!

I'm a Statistic

2011-08-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

Life has been truly crazy lately and in a moment of insanity I was going to delete this blog. Fortunately, a good friend told me that I should keep it. And thankfully, I listened.

Here's the deal . . . I'm unemployed. UNEMPLOYED!!! And it sucks monkey balls. I cannot describe to you the agony of applying to jobs. Never in my life have I felt so inadequate. Everyday I wake up, check my email and receive tons of messages from Career Builder, Jobfox, Monster, Linked in, TV jobs, Media Match, etc. but absolutely nothing from recruiters for jobs that I've actually applied for. I have sent out over 10 applications a day, every single day for over two months and haven't even gotten so much as an email or phone call back, much less an interview. It's exhausting, confusing and makes you want to jump off of a bridge.

Networking feels kind of awkward, but I do it anyway. I've even spent over $800 to go to a networking event, introduced myself and handed my card out to practically everyone I could find, followed up with emails and have yet to hear back. I took my resume to a professional resume writing service to see if there was anything I could do to increase my chances of getting a job and still nothing.

The confusing thing is that I'm qualified for the jobs I have applied for. I have all of the skills, requirements, references and years of experience. But I can't get a call back to save my life and the frustration is literally driving me crazy. I check my email every three seconds, think about outrageous ways to get my resume seen and am even starting to wonder if I've been blacklisted by "the man." I've been told that it's a reflection of the U.S. economy and I shouldn't take it personal. And while this may be true, it's hard not to take it personal when you read articles that tell you that finding a job is as simple as spelling everything correct on your resume and directly addressing a person from human resources in your cover letter.

I guess the worst part is feeling like the only person in this situation. I was telling my boyfriend that I need to join an unemployed person's therapy group. I'm just hoping that this country can get it together so I don't have to move back to Japan to find a decent job. So that's my little venting session.

Until then, I will continue to fight the good fight. Hopefully, someone will hire me.

Pure Unadulterated Truth

2010-08-05T05:51:00.000-07:00

So most every (educated) Black person knows about W.E.B. DuBois' reference to the Black "double consciousness." I don't feel like explaining it - so click the link if you don't know what I'm talking about - but I will say that I'm mainly referring to this part

" . . . the internal conflict between being African and American simultaneously"

As a Black person, my perspective about America can be a little . . . interesting. I think Chris Rock put it best when he says that to a Black person, America is like "the uncle that put you through college . . . but molested you." For the most part, I have a sense of humor about everything. (A couple days ago, I was in Tokyo visiting one of my best friends from high school and he was saying how as an American, he apologizes to his significant other every year for Hiroshima. I told him that I don't apologize for jack because "it was them White folk that did that sh!!") He thought it was hilarious, but to a degree . . . (and I'm keeping it really really real) that's how most Black folk think. But let me get to the point with this post (because I really gotta go to bed soon.)

I brought up the "double consciousness" thing because being in this country has given me like a million different "realities" to consider and sometimes I find myself conflicted between my consciousness as an American, a Black person, a woman and also things that I've never really thought about before moving here . . . like being tall or even my bra size. There are a million and one things that I never really thought about that have become a big part of who I am out here. But one surprising thing is that I've become fond of nearly everything that I represent.

Like, I couldn't imagine coming from a more "cooler" country than America. And I know it sounds strange, but there is a certain amount of casualness that Americans are recognized for, that I never knew about until I left. I was talking to a Japanese lady the other day and she was telling me that after she left America and moved to New Zealand, the "Kiwis" were constantly correcting her English and telling her that she had an American accent. She told me that she could tell that I was from America when I said the word, "can't." I cringed with embarrassment.

"I know," I said. "The American accent is so - "

"Cool!" she interrupted. This caught me off guard. I guess, I was so quick to think that the whole world only thought negative things about us, that I never really stopped to listen to what was actually being said. (Don't get me wrong, this "casualness" isn't always seen as good, but what I'm saying is that people all over the world have some viewpoints about Americans that aren't all negative.)

Now that I'm in Japan, I realize how loose I seem compared to "the natives." The way I talk, walk, smile and interact with my friends is completely different from the people around me and in a way you can say it's very stereotypical of what they feel America represents. A lot of the stores that boast to have "American clothing" showcase huge billboards and posters with the words, "Casual" or "Relaxed" with pictures of blonde haired, blue-eyed "Americans" wearing cowboy hats and torn jeans, posing in some laid back look or another. And when I walk down the street (regardless of the fact that I look nothing like the White people in their "American" posters) that's what I represent.

But then, there's another level to my "breeziness." The way I walk, the way I talk and just having that extra "swagger" and personally, I attribute it to being Black. It cracks me up the longer I'm around some of my White friends and coworkers, the more I hear them repeating the slang words that I've recently used just to see how it sounds coming out of their mouths. I make up random ish and I can literally see these people taking mental notes. No one can convince me that Black people aren't the root of all things cool in America, and the Japanese people may not know that . . . but the White folk certainly do and I am definitely being studied, lol.

My friend in Tokyo was saying that he misses being around Black folk, because he notices that Black people go with the flow a little bit more. Personally, I think we have our own hang-ups when it comes to plenty of things, but for the most part I can agree with him and that's another thing I am proud to represent while over here.

Now as for being a woman . . . I am THE only person that looks like me in this area. I'm 5'8, I have shoulder length dread locks, double D breasts, size 7 pants, size 10 shoes . . . and the list goes on and on. I can't help but to think about the Sojourner Truth "Ain't I a Woman" poem, being that I am built way more sturdier than these - as my Grandmother would say - "drop in a bucket" women around me, but honestly I have never felt sexier. I definitely stand out because of the way my clothes fit, the way that I wear makeup and just the femininity in the way that I carry myself. Like the way that I switch when I walk, which I really can't help because . . . well, that's just the way I'm built. (And these men and women out here aren't stupid. I've gotten a few flirty "konnichiwas" since I've been here.) But these are all things that I never really thought about before moving to Japan and they make me proud every day to represent a demographic that isn't seen very often in countries such as this.

I wish I could finish this post better, but all I can say is that if you (or someone you know) is ever considering moving to another country, make sure you are comfortable with who you are (or who you think you are). Because you will truly be tested on every "consciousness" you possess and it will either make you a stronger person or it will just make your insecurities stronger. Okay, I really gotta get to bed now. G-night, blogosphere!

A Dilemma

2010-07-18T05:08:00.000-07:00

One thing that I didn't count on when I got to Japan was how little time I would have to myself. I spend about 90% of my time working or preparing to go to work. Every chance I get, I try to get on the internet and blog or go traipsing about the city but then I get sucked into the black hole that is Facebook and can't seem to do anything but comment on statuses and look at pictures. And then there's Skype.

*Deep sigh of resignation*

Skype is a blessing and a curse. It's better than Facebook because you can actually see your friends in person. You can speak to them and hear the complete story behind what's going on in their lives. But on the other hand, you're hearing their "complete story" and it sucks your time up like you wouldn't believe. On top of this, the connection is reeeeally bad so I find myself shouting, "Can you hear me?" and attempting to reconnect dropped calls over and over and over again. I get on the internet to watch an episode of The Daily Show before work and the next thing I know, I'm sitting on Skype yelling, "Your screen is frozen . . . Can you hear me? . . . I'm going to hang up and call back."

So the funny thing about it, is the same people that I miss the most are the people I try to avoid when I get on Skype. Funny right? I'm in a country on the other side of the planet, missing my friends and family and yet sometimes I find that I'm avoiding these very people. It's a very strange problem to have.

Well . . . I gotta go.

Peace Snitches!

Dear Everyone

2010-07-15T06:29:00.001-07:00

Dear Japanese people,

How are y. . . Oh! . . . Why, yes! I do look different. I'm tall, my skin is brown and my hair is different. Obviously I'm from another country. I know it's a little confusing and it's probably hard for you to really focus on what I'm saying to you because I look so gosh-darn strange. But technology is amazing and would you believe that there are these crazy things called airplanes that allow people from other countries to fly all the way to this small grouping of islands called Japan. I couldn't believe it either! Well, actually . . . I could. You see, I'm from America. There are all kinds of people in America. Tall, short, fat, skinny, brown, beige, blonde, brunette. Odds are, if you took an airplane to my country, you would not be stared at and pointed at the way that I am over here. In fact, no one would really care about you. That can be good and bad, though. Either way, thanks for all of the help that you've given me at times when I look extra lost. I guess it's worth all of the stares, giggles, and hair touching that I have to experience from time to time.

Sincerely,

The Freak of Nature Who's Mouth is Moving But You Don't Understand a Thing That She's Saying

Dear Elderly Japanese people,

I'm sorry about Hiroshima. I would love to tell you that during that terrible time, my people were being persecuted too . . . but I'm sure you don't want to hear all that. Regardless, attempting to play chicken with me on your bicycle is not going to make it all better. If anything, it might just send your old, fragile butt to the hospital. And don't try to blame it on your bad vision, either. When I am obviously riding my bike on the left side of the sidewalk, and you are obviously on the right side . . . there is no reason why you should suddenly start drifting over to my side, giving me as little room as humanly possible to eek by you. I know exactly what you're doing and it's not cute. And don't be surprised if I start to speed up. I am actually very good at chicken and I don't discriminate against the elderly . . . (in other words) I will run your butt over!

Sincerely,

"The Chicken Champion"

Dear Japanese parents,

I have only been here for 2 months, but I've been able to observe that you guys are successful at raising 2 types of children. There are the bright and gifted children. Intelligent and well rounded. Funny and refreshingly personable. I could go on and on. You put a lot of unnecessary pressure on these kids and oddly, some of them actually meet the challenge . . . but let's face it, most of them do not. Some of these kids barely know how to speak Japanese and you really expect them to sit down once a week and be able to absorb a foreign language. And they try to, but sometimes I think it's just important for you to know that your child IS doing their best and just because they can't recite the U.S. constitution doesn't meant they're not learning. Now to the parents of the OTHER kind of children. I think it's important for you to know that your children pick their boogers and eat them, scream and yell out as if they have tourette syndrome, throw things, run around and don't listen to a thing that I say or just sit and stare at the ceiling with their eyes glazed over for 40 straight minutes. To the parents of these particular children, I'm thinking you should stop sticking them into these classes and start actually raising them. Maybe then, you can decipher whether the problem is that your child is mentally retarded or if it's just that you did a terrible job of raising a stable human being. Only then, can the healing begin.

Sincerely,

The person who is trying to keep your children from killing one another

That's all I got. Now to find the nearest post office!

Things On My Mind

2010-07-14T07:53:00.000-07:00

First of all . . . the manfriend still hasn't heard back from the "big job" and sadly I've started to give up hope. I've been missing him and the dog like crazy and find my thoughts drifting back to our last little vacation at Disney World. There was one particular morning that keeps flooding back to my mind. We decided to eat a home cooked meal at the hotel. Cheese eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, a croissant and some orange juice. It was soooo good and the day was just perfect and sunny. Just the randomness that pops in your head when you're on the other side of the planet. *Sigh* But one really good thing that has taken place in the past couple weeks or so is that the culture shock is finally beginning to let up and I'm actually getting used to everything a little bit more.

I find solace in exploring new places, sitting in a quiet restaurant or cafe, eating and reading books on my iPad. Call me an old lady, but I also enjoy playing Scrabble and even beat the computer for the first time yesterday. I find that the ability to be alone is something that doesn't come natural to everybody . . . but it definitely comes natural to me and being out here makes it so much easier to just go to a Starbucks, park my butt in a seat, sip my Matcha (green tea) Frappuccino and just read my heart out.

Also, it's nice to be somewhere and not have to worry about running into an ex boyfriend or a coworker (or in my case, both . . . LOL). It's also nice not to have to worry about some of the problems that I had to deal with at home . . . like the family feuding or feeling obligated to spend time with people I don't even like. Regardless, I still miss American television and having the ability to read, write and speak to pretty much anyone and everyone I want to speak to.

I would write more but that's all I got for now. Time for me to hit the sack!

Randomness

2010-07-01T08:34:00.000-07:00

It's times like these (when I haven't written in a while and don't have a good enough reason except the fact that I'm lazy) that I have to tell myself that I'm doing this blog for me and if I don't have the time or energy to blog . . . well, then so be it. (Also, all of my favorite bloggers haven't been writing a lot lately either, so I think there's something in the air.) But enough of the B.S. Here's some random things that have been happening in my life.

#1 - I actually considered dropping this blog and just using the other blog, since I've pretty much outed myself anyway. But then it hit me that this blog is my haven to be able to say whatever I'm REALLY feeling. I can whine and complain, talk about people, get all emotional and lovey dovey and just say what I really want to say about things which is something I don't feel comfortable doing on the other blog.

#2 - The Manfriend had a really important interview with a really important company a couple weeks ago and we're still waiting on the outcome. The place that the Manfriend interviewed with was so prestigious that his douchebag ex-supervisor found out about it and came calling trying to get some details and even dissuade him from attempting to go any further with it. Anywho, I'm really nervous and have been waking up and skyping home every morning to ask him if he's heard anything back.

#3 - Culture shock hit me like a ton of bricks. (Get ready for the understatement of the year). It's hard being out here alone and away from my family. Living overseas is no joke and every day I have to tell myself that I can make it another week. It's gotten easier, but if I revealed to friends and family how close I was to just packing it up and calling it quits, they would have probably sent me a plane ticket 2 weeks ago. I'm trudging along, but (despite what it may look like on the other blog) it's not as easy as it looks.

#4 - I've been watching clips of the BET Awards show and didn't appreciate Chris Breezy effing up Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" with all of his blubbering. He should have saved that ish for "I Can Transform You" or something.

#5 - I go on my first big trip this weekend. I'll be white water rafting. And in a couple of weeks, I will be climbing Mount Fuji. It finally feels like I'm going to be doing something that makes all of this homesickness worth it. I mean can you imagine the conversation I'll be having soon?

"Arnetta, how was your weekend?"

"It was great!"

"What'd you do?"

"Oh . . . you know . . . climbed MOUNT FREAKING FUJI!!!"

Well, that's all I got for now. Check the other blog for pics and stuff.

Proud to Be An American - Well, Kind Of

2010-06-16T05:39:00.001-07:00

So let me start this off by saying that I am the last person that anyone would describe as being patriotic. Sorry, but it's true. I'm that annoying person that when asked who I voted for, I'll say "Jesus" and what's more annoying is that I actually mean it. Now, don't get me wrong . . . there are a lot of wonderful perks to living in America, but I also think that there are a lot of wonderful perks to living in countries all over the world. Which leads me to today's subject.

Japan is a country that works hard. And this is because the Japanese work ethic is through the roof. They push their children to excel academically. They push for recycling and doing things the "green" way and pay high taxes for things like trash in an effort to curb waste (which is pretty darn effective - despite the lack of trash receptacles on the street.) The crime rate is very low, their sanitary standards are thorough, and I could just go on and on and on. Now with all of this said, would I be confident as to say that the Japanese people just have it all figured out? No. Would I say that they are model citizens for everyone? No. Would I say that I would want my children to grow up living the Japanese way of life? No. <---But that's just me.

My coworker on the other hand has had nothing but wonderful things to say about Japanese people, which I think is really cool and for the most part, I agree with her statements . . . BUT she can never say a kind word about them without putting down Americans. Like I said before, I'm not the most patriotic person and I know that Americans can be rude, loud, fat, lazy, stubborn, racist, wasteful, the list goes on and on and on but some of the stuff that she says is a little extra. Also some of the ish she brags about for them (I think) is less than praiseworthy and some of the things she downs about Americans (I think) are actually commendable.

For example, during an exercise today with one of my adult students, I asked them to name all of the stereotypes they can think of for Americans. (If you want to see the complete list, go to that other chick's website!) One of the things that my student mentioned was that American children go to bed early. Now I asked her, "What's early?" and she says, "9pm." She then looks at me with the question mark face so as to confirm or deny this stereotype. I told her, "Yes, we do put our children to bed around maybe 8:30 or 9pm - but to us that's not early at all. We think that's normal." I then asked her what was a normal time for children to go to bed here in Japan. She says, "Maybe 12am." Now personally, I don't think that's ideal (and it occurred to me that that's probably why a lot of my students are half sleep in my classes every day). Especially considering that these children have to wake up at like 6am or 6:30 to get ready for school that starts at around 7:00am or so. But I respect the fact that this is their culture, not mine. Not better . . . not worst . . . just different. So when I brought it up in casual conversation, my coworker went into her "God Bless Japan for being better than America" talk, that she normally does.

"They work sooo hard . . . Unlike our lazy American children who go home, eat and then go to bed because they don't have anything to do." Wait, what? Since when did a child getting less than 7 hours of sleep turn into something that's commendable. And why are American children lazy because they go to bed before The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson comes on?

Next, the topic of household chores came up. Now I've read (and heard from my students) that in Asian countries children are expected to focus on their academic responsibilities more so than any household responsibilities. Again, not good, not bad . . . just different. Generally, in American culture, it's expected that the children help out with household chores.

"Japanese children are so busy with their schoolwork, unlike lazy American children who have nothing to do except maybe eat or sit around the house and do chores."

This was when I asked her, "What kind of privileged childhood did you have that you just sat around the house all day?" First of all, I had to change the whole focus of her statement from the "American people" to just her. Second, maybe she didn't have a privileged childhood and maybe it was just her "American guilt" speaking, but I don't have "American guilt." I don't feel guilty for my "American" childhood (or adulthood for that matter.) I also don't feel sorry for the Japanese people who are obviously just living life the way that they feel is best for them. And yes, I'm an American but I'm not rude, loud, ignorant, racist and DEFINITELY not lazy. And, I wasn't going to sit and generalize or apologize for the American people as if we're all overly privileged, ignorant and lazy. I've always gotten good grades in school, did my homework and worked my butt off whenever I had a job.

YES, I got more than 6 hours of sleep every night and yes, I also enjoyed some of the perks of being an American and living in a superficial, leisure-driven culture, BUT I've also had to suffer right along with the 44 million who have to work their butts off in order to pay an exorbitant amount of money - out of pocket, mind you - for healthcare . Yes, I enjoyed junk-food when I was younger, but (contrary to common Japanese beliefs) I wasn't allowed to eat that ish everyday! So when she says all of those negative things in front of my Japanese coworkers, I try to make sure to clean that ish up real quick. This woman is speaking about HERSELF!!! At one point, I also added (and I deeply regret this) that I would never want to raise my kids in Japan. Now I didn't mean to go overboard with that statement - maybe I was caught up in the heat of my newfound patriotism and maybe I would like to raise my future kid(s) in Japan, who knows? - but I didn't want to mince words. The Japanese are great . . . but they don't have it all figured out. Why? Because nobody has it all figured out.

So there I was, attempting to defend the American people . . . or at least attempting to defend myself. It was a weird situation. But it has given me a broader perspective on how I view the world. I know that I had my little stereotypes about the Japanese people before I got here, but being here has destroyed those beliefs for me. On the other hand, I hope that my work ethic, intelligence and character serves to disprove the negative stereotypes against Americans for someone (even if that someone happens to be a fellow American.)

Thank God for God's People

2010-06-13T08:25:00.000-07:00

I went food shopping today with help from one of the sisters from my congregation. I was soooo happy to have been able to finally pick up the food items that I've really been needing. I can't wait to start cooking tomorrow. And don't worry . . . I'll take plenty of pictures!

Also, I went to a barbeque today. It was too much fun! I really enjoy hanging with my Japanese brothers and sisters. On top of the fact that they make me feel safe and at home, I get a free Japanese lesson out of the deal. All of us were in the house prepping food, laughing and having a good time. And after a long week, it was just what the doctor ordered. I don't know if I would be able to survive a year without them.

The Soundtrack of My Life - Another Post About Music

2010-06-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I am living in a foreign country, so I have absolutely no clue what is "hot on the streets" in America (as far as music goes) anymore. As far as "what's cool" goes in Japan, I swear I am stuck in the U.S. circa 1992 when people still threw up the peace sign, wore scrunchies and flowered dresses with tights underneath.

So music is and (for the most part) has always been major part of my life. I listen to it while I blog, while I study, while I drive, (or - now that I'm in Japan - while I ride my bike), while I read and it's just always in the background of whatever I'm doing. Life just doesn't feel right if there's no music playing. So when the time started to get closer and closer for me to depart for Japan, it wasn't too surprising that I'd already had a song picked out for the first seconds of takeoff. The song was "Window Seat" by Erykah Badu. Now, of course, this plan made absolutely no sense because #1 - I didn't actually have a window seat and #2 - well . . . you have to turn off all electronic devices when an airplane is taking off.

Either way, once I got past the music video, the lyrics to "Window Seat" really struck a chord with me and really put into words how I was feeling at the time that I was leaving. It even touched a little on why I was leaving in the first place.

so, presently I'm standing

here right now

you're so demanding

tell me what you want from me

concluding

concentrating on my music, lover and my babies

makes me wanna ask the lady for a ticket outta town...

so can I get a window seat

don't want nobody next to me

I just want a ticket outta town

a look around

and a safe touch down

can I get a window seat

don't want nobody next to me

I just want a chance to fly

a chance to cry

and a long bye bye..

but I need you to want me

I need you to miss me

I need your attention, yes

I need you next to me

I need someone to clap for me

I need your direction

somebody say come back

come back baby come back

I want you to need me

come back come back baby come back (3x)

so, in my mind I'm tusslin'

back and forth 'tween here and hustlin'

I don't wanna time travel no mo

I wanna be here

I'm thinking

on this porch I'm rockin'

back and forth like lightning hopkins

if anybody speak to Scotty

tell him beam me up..

So can I get a window seat (Chorus)

but I need you to miss me

I need somebody come get me

I need your attention

I need your energy

I need someone to clap for me

I need your direction

somebody say come back

come back baby come back

come back come back baby come back (3x)

So can I get a window seat (Chorus)

Now, I can totally identify with the idea of just needing to get away. Needing to go somewhere and not be caught up in the every day problems that wouldn't be so important if you were just somewhere else. And the desire to just look out the window and watch everything disappear into the distance. I can also identify with the idea of being mentally scattered, back and forth, here and there . . . thoughts everywhere except where they're supposed to be. Oh, and feeling nuts (if anybody speak to Scotty, tell'em beam me up!). And last but not least, despite the fact that you want to get away from it all so badly, you still want to know that people actually care that you left. You want to know that someone wants you're crazy butt to come back. So that's what I got out of that song, and that's why it was chosen as my "takeoff" song.

So when I got here, I kept hearing this song. I posted it in my last blog. For those of you who don't want to click the link, it's a song called "Sunshine Girl" by a Japanese artist named Moumou. I thought it was cute and while I was in the music store, I heard it play over the speakers so I decided that since it's been playing on rotation in my life's soundtrack, I might as well buy the single . . . which I did. So while at the record store, I also picked up Janelle Monae's album, "ArchAndroid." I decided that she has a very "not human" thing going on, and I feel like I'm on another planet . . . so what the heck?

The album did not disappoint. It was different, but refreshing and the girl is talented. Some of the songs were kind of out there, but they really matched my current environment so it was all good.

Either way, this is what I listen to every morning.

Other than that, I've been listening to a lot of the same'ol stuff from my iTunes. For now, I'm keeping my ears open for anything new that I may be missing out on in America and also I'm trying to expand my horizons and latch onto some talented Japanese artists.

My First Couple Weeks (part 2) "The Yang"

2010-06-11T06:15:00.000-07:00

All right, here's part 2 as promised . . .

Fell Off My Bike

It was the outgoing teacher's last night and boy was I HAPPY!! I couldn't wait to see the back of his head disappearing into the distance. We had a great dinner and I had even planned to do karaoke with my American coworkers when on the way to the karaoke bar, I mistook a deep curb for a shallow curb that I could hop onto with my bike and the next thing I know, I'd flipped over and was sprawled out on the ground. (But don't worry, I did it in a really classy way!) Needless to say, no karaoke that night. I went to bed and decided to go to church the next morning because my spirits were loooow.

Found God . . . Again

So I woke up early on Sunday morning and forced myself to go to the local house of worship (which is the same denomination as the church I attend @ home.) The people were so kind and generous that they even invited me to go to lunch at one of the member's houses. It was a wonderful experience and I made a number of new friends, one of them being an American like myself. I was so happy that I was brought to tears. All of my prayers were answered when I met these people. New life was breathed into my experience and I suddenly felt like I could really do it. They volunteered their time to helping me get anything that I needed, which leads me to our next subject.

Got Internet

One thing that was never mentioned during this whole recap but was very much prevalent and constant was my continuous pleas and attempts at internet. My connection to the English speaking world was dwindling day by day and I was slipping into a world where I had to depend on pictures, sign language and my 2 American coworkers for every little thing. I felt like Helen freaking Keller and that was not working out for a grown woman. I started getting depressed. The company that I work for gave me the impression that my coworkers would help me to get set up with services such as phone, internet, and learning the ropes of my new environment and at some point my coworker did help me to get a phone, but that was about it. I didn't know how to use it and I didn't even know my own phone number. The instructions were written in Kanji, so I couldn't even attempt to translate that ish. But back to my pleas for internet.

The interactions were something like this . . .

Me: So, when do you think I can get internet?

Guy: Not today. Maybe in a week.

(One week later)

Me: You think we can look into getting internet tomorrow?

Guy: Why are you so obsessed with internet?

(...and adding her 2 cents) Girl: Yeah, I think you're spoiled.

It was then that 2 things occurred to me at that very moment...

#1 - I hated this guy. I hated him because he spoke fluent Japanese and could read Hiragana, Katakana and Kanji. I hated him because he was living in a world that he could navigate with ease. I hated him because he'd been here for well over a year and had more than enough time to master this foreign environment without the extra burden of not knowing the language and having to rely on instinct and the kindness of others in order to get simple things like a packet of sugar or a bottle of aspirin. I hated him because everything that was extremely difficult for me, came easy to him. And most of all, I hated him because on top of all of these advantages, he was inconsiderate and dismissive of the one thing that I desperately needed in order to feel normal and circumvent the oncoming depression and loneliness that was closing in on me like a dark cloud. (Honest to God...at one point, I was on the verge of weeping when I heard "The Wheels on the Bus" song in one of my baby classes.) I was literally dying inside and this is not a feeling that anyone would understand unless they've been in a distant country, separated from everything they know and everyone they love.

#2 - I also realized that he was not going to help me get internet.

So when I went to church, the wonderful God-fearing people I met there understood how lonely I might have been and jumped to action.

Guy from Church: We've got to get you internet. I can imagine that you must be really lonely out here.

Me: (one tear drizzles down my cheek)

I can't explain enough how much these people were God sends. First they showed me what my phone number was . . . then they took me to the mall and got the ball rolling for me to get internet. It was an interesting experience seeing these complete strangers that I'd just met, translating and working out the logistics to my internet connection. And on top of this they hooked me up with a wifi device that allows me to get internet anywhere in the city. The thing fits into the palm of my hand.

That's hot, right?! Ms. Green LOOOVES IT!!!

Life Begins

The first thing I did when I got home that day was talk to the manfriend for hours on end. I didn't realize how much I missed him until I got to my apartment and called him at . . . I dunno . . . like 5am in the morning and heard his sweet voice and saw his face after what felt like an eternity of silence. I talked to him, my mother, one of my best friends and even emailed a few people. It was glorious! My days began to drift back into a more bearable existence. The weather here started to get warmer and each day was more beautiful than the next. Oh, and after showing up at the job every single day for two weeks (after his official last day), sitting in the lobby, playing with the students and occasionally scratching his balls, the outgoing teacher finally left. And with that the experience became more real to me.

Now everything is far from perfect here. My schedule kind of sucks. I work from 12pm to 9pm, Tuesday through Saturday. That's like the worst possible hours ever! But it really is one of those "when in Rome" things. Those kinds of hours are normal for Japanese people, believe it or not. So, I'm learning to accept it and have become a bit of a night owl. It also allows me to talk to my family at a decent time. I'm blessed to be able to live near the train station and sometimes after work, I take the train to a friend's apartment who lives in the next city over and we have drinks and vent about our day. Either way, I have been learning to adapt and still consider myself blessed to be able to have this experience.

So, that's all I got and I have to go to bed. You're officially up to date!

My First Couple Weeks (part 1) "The Yin"

2010-06-10T08:43:00.000-07:00

My first week at my new apartment and school was pretty quick, but full of action. It started off a little rocky. Here's the outline . . .

- Met My Boss and Coworkers

- Almost Died

- Went to a Party

- Had a Revelation

- Strange Conversations

- Felt Like a Weirdo

-Fell Off My Bike

- Found God . . . Again

- Got Internet

Met My Boss and Coworkers

She was a short, strange and jittery woman who greeted me as soon as I stepped foot off the train. She informed me that some of the parents were throwing a party for the guy I'm replacing which is not something that happens very often, but apparently the guy was such an awesome teacher and spoke such wonderful, fluent Japanese that the parents couldn't help but to honor him with a going away party. Oh . . . and I could come too if I wanted. "Do you speak Japanese?" she asked me. "Um, no," I replied. "Oh" said she. (Awkward Silence).

So we picked up the guy I'm replacing. He was a skinny, greasy-haired guy with glasses and a big nose. (Not being mean, just keeping it real) We also picked up the girl I would be working with, a short, dark-haired, freckle faced girl with really dark, drawn on eyebrows. They were both friendly and polite.

Almost Died

The manager was so pressed to get to this party that she rushed through my mandatory apartment checklist, missing several things that I'm sure should have been checked thoroughly. She sped down the road in her car and almost ran onto some train tracks attempting to beat an oncoming train. My life flashed before my eyes and at that very moment I went from trying to make a good impression, to being pissed off. This woman was putting everyone's life in danger for some hors d'oeuvres and coca cola. I guess it wasn't too crazy, considering the driving is absolutely horrible in Japan. I've never in my life seen such terrible driving. You know that stereotype about Asian people and driving? Yeah . . . well, I don't know if it's true, but I can definitely say that the Japanese people are holding up their end of the sucking bargain.

Went to a Party

So we went to the party and boy was it awkward. I didn't understand too much of what was said but I did understand that I was being watched (mainly by my female American coworker and the manager). There were children running around and climbing all over the guy I'm replacing and the parents looked on lovingly, laughing, smiling and speaking Japanese. I really wanted to go home to unpack my stuff and get acquainted with my apartment. I also wanted to throw up and kill myself.

Had A Revelation

It's too late to go home.

Strange Conversations

This is one of the recurring conversations I had after first meeting the outgoing teacher...

Guy - Where are you from?

Me - Philadelphia.

Guy - I thought you said you were from New Jersey.

Me - I'm originally from New Jersey, but I live in Philadelphia

Guy - Oh!

Now I'm only referencing this conversation, because it took place several times and to be honest I found it a little strange and slightly annoying. Why? I emailed dude and told him I was from Philadelphia several weeks before I arrived in Japan. I never mentioned anything about New Jersey. How he found out that information . . . I don't know. It creeped me out a little and also made me feel like I had to defend my right to say that I was from Philadelphia which was indeed where I was coming from when I was offered and accepted the job. What would be the point of mentioning New Jersey, when I was no longer a resident and hadn't been for years? Also (and I'm getting ahead of myself here) when I shadowed him throughout the week and the students would ask me where I came from, he would always cut in and say, "She's originally from New Jersey!"

Feeling Like a Weirdo

So that week I shadowed classes and had to conduct my own as well, under the supervision of the outgoing teacher. The problem was that after each class, he would give the students gifts. And I don't mean stickers or colorful book markers . . . I'm talking about PSP games and huge anime pictures that he personally painted himself. These children's face would light up and they would thank him profusely in Japanese. He would smile with pride as they took endless pictures (while throwing up the peace sign - because they still do that here in Japan), professed how much they would miss him and to dig it in deeper, he would end every class with "have fun with Arnetta Sensei!"

"Gee, thanks," I'm thinking to myself. And I'm sure the kids were probably thinking the same thing.

Then when it was my turn to teach, he sat in the back of the classroom, watching me and scratching his balls. (Yes, scratching his BALLS!!!) It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life and became more and more prevalent and constant with each passing day. So, I'm fumbling through my lesson, the kids aren't responding and it took reinforcement from the guy to get them to do anything. Most times, he would just repeat the same thing I'd just said and the kids would snap to attention and do his bidding. It was a nightmare. I couldn't wait for this guy to be gone. Somehow, I just knew that I could get these children's respect if only he was out of the classroom.

Also, I needed to vent . . . to normal people. English speaking people who were experiencing the same thing as me. The girl at my school was okay but I wasn't too fond of the spirit in which she'd say and do some things. It was hard for me not to get the impression that she was attempting to one-up me.

For example, here's a conversation we had when I first attempted to confide in her.

Me: So how do you like living in Japan so far?

Her: Oh this? I've traveled all my life, this is nothing to me.

Here's another conversation we had while on our way to the cultural center to take our Japanese language lessons...

Her: You'll probably have the same teacher as Holly, because you two are at about the same level of Japanese . . . which is like level zero.

Maybe she was right, but she still sounded like a douche-bag saying it (and she must have said this about a hundred different times, despite the fact that I never asked - nor cared - what teacher I would get assigned to at the cultural center.)

So I say all of this to say, I was on my own.

(Yeah, I know . . . this first part was pretty miserable. But stay tuned for part 2, it gets better. Or does it? Dunh, dunh, duuuuuhnnnn!!!)

Week 1 - Training

2010-06-07T04:12:00.001-07:00

So the trip to Japan was looooong. It consisted of a whole lot of sitting and squirming around, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, which grew more impossible by the hour. My flight took 19 hours in all. Four hours to San Francisco and 15 hours to Japan. I spent the trip watching Robert Downey Junior's sexy behind running around 19th century England as Sherlock Holmes. I also got a chance to finally see Breakfast at Tiffany's. I absolutely LOOOVE old movies and this movie was pretty good. The thing that I found really ironic about the movie, though, is that there was an Asian character (I'm pretty sure he was supposed to be Japanese even though in old movies, they didn't allow too many people of color on the big screen so he may have been a caucasian person in costume) named Mr. Yunioshi, who constantly complained at the main character "Holly Golightly"(played by Audrey Hepburn). Now Mr. Yunioshi was a short man with crooked, bucked teeth, a bowl haircut, thick bifocals and a terrible accent. You know, "You-ah too loud!" "I call cops!" and stuff like that. It was really cringe-worthy, but I couldn't help but to ask why they would play a movie like this on the way to Japan. I just thought it was weird.

Anywho, after 19 long hours, I finally arrived in Japan and during the process of jumping through hoops at the airport, and meeting up with the trainer, I managed to find several of my fellow trainees who were also preparing to go the training session. We gathered into a little group of maybe 13, 14 people and took a bus trip (that took forever - about 2 hours) to the training center. By this time, it was like 9pm and everyone was exhausted. We were hauling our luggage around the streets of Okayama and praying that we would finally reach our destination so that we could go to sleep. It seemed like the stronger the desire to sleep became, the more unbearable the physical and mental exhaustion became, the more tedious information our trainer wanted to tell us. "You guys will probably want to check out this grocery store in the future, but just know that they aren't open 24 hours a day, soooo . . . yeah . . . um, well, let's keep going." I swear, we all just looked at him with blank stares the whole time he spoke. Next thing you know, he lead us to the dorms where we would be staying. I looked at the list of room numbers with corresponding names and saw that my name was not on the list.

"Oh!" he said, "About 6 of you will be staying in a hotel that's a couple blocks away. After we get everyone settled into these dorms, we'll walk you guys over to the hotels and get you guys checked in." At that moment, I couldn't figure out if I wanted to die or kill this guy.

But when we got checked into the hotel and I found out that there was free breakfast every morning along with wi-fi internet in the lobby, I realized that I wanted to kiss him. I jumped into bed that night and woke up bright and early at 4am in the morning (due to jet lag) and then decided to hop downstairs and get on the internet until breakfast started. Breakfast consisted of some strange ish, and that was the moment I realized that I was not in Kansas anymore. Everything tasted pickled. Pickled cranberries, pickled lettuce, and pickled peppers. There was also soup and of course, rice balls (which I would soon discover comes with EVERYTHING).

So that was my routine the whole week that I was in training. I would wake up bright and early, get on the internet, talk to the manfriend and eat my free breakfast. The first 2 days that I stayed in the hotel, my roomate and I hung out and we explored the town we were in as well as the city that was next door, Kurashiki (the same city that would soon be my home). We were told that the first week would be very intense, and this caused some of the people in my training group to get a little tense, but for the most part, everyone hung out and even bonded a little. There was 15 of us all together and we had a great time until the weekend ended and we had to start going to the training sessions.

Now I've been involved in quite a few intense vetting processes. The most intense having been my experiences pledging a certain sorority (that need not be mentioned.) After going through that bull-ish, I've always kind of felt like I could go through pretty much anything and wasn't really stressed when they kept warning us about how "intense" this process would be. A few of my fellow trainees were upset (one of the girls even decided to quit without telling anyone) but I'd say we all did a good job. Training consisted of 9 long hours every day of listening to lecture after lecture and then having to actually regurgitate this information in the form of a lesson geared toward the Japanese children we would be teaching. It was nerve wracking to pull off, but thank God we were all a pretty tight knit group. It helps to resolve the pressure, when you have a bunch of grown American adults acting like Japanese children who are enjoying your class lesson. So day after day of this, we finally reached the end of training and the grand finale would be giving a lesson to actual Japanese children. Now this experience was no joke. The kids were not going to fake anything for us. If they weren't interested, they would get up in the middle of your lesson and just walk away. Fortunately, I was the first person to go and did my best to grab the kid's attention. It worked for the most part, but by the 3rd presentation, one of the children picked up a slipper and threw it at the girl who was giving her lesson. It looked something like this . . .

So training week ended with all of the trainers taking the trainees out to dinner. And me as well as 2 of the girls managed to get the most serious of the trainers drunk off of this really really good rose flavored wine. It was splendid and a wonderful way to end my first week in Japan. After this, everyone from my training group split off, going to their respective schools all over Japan. I got on the train and watched as everyone waved goodbye. I was nervous, but ready to get to my school and wondering if my new coworkers would be as cool as the people I'd met and befriended in training.

Pre Flight Panic and the 3 Big Bon Voyages

2010-06-06T08:29:00.000-07:00

For the last two weeks before I was to board an airplane and spend the next 12 months of my life in a foreign country, things got real. And by "real" I mean, real stressful. As you know, the manfriend lost his job, there was a whole lot of family drama going on and to top it all off, I was not feeling the support from friends and family that I expected.

Sunday, May 9th

Well, let me start this out on a positive note. I DID get a whole lot of support from my Christian family at church. All I know is that I showed up to service on one of the last weeks before my big party and someone handed me an envelope with about 200 dollars in it. As me and the man friend say, "I was hah-peee!" They treated me to dinner and there was lots of laughing and joking (because my congregation is hilarious) and my best friend (one of the biggest sinners I know) was there, and was able to see why I decided to dedicate my life to God. She mentioned that from seeing the kind of support and love that everyone shares, she can't help but to want to be a part of that. Well, hallelujah to that!

(So let me back it up again) Despite the support from my wonderful christian congregation, I had way to many "friends" asking me when I was planning to throw my own going away party. Okay, (Cher voice from Clueless) . . . "as if!" Who does that?!? At first I actually considered gathering a few of my friends together (considering that my family's "surprise" bon voyage party was being planned by one of my cousins who wouldn't have a clue about who my friends are). But then I remembered that I had to purchase a year's supply of . . . I dunno . . . EVERYTHING as well as cancel about a million and one subscriptions and automatic payments, pay off my car, close out several accounts, order Japanese yen and somehow fit a vacation into the mix. So yeah, that wasn't going to happen and after a while, it started irritating me when I would tell certain friends that I was planning on leaving and they would say something along the lines of "well, let's do something before you go. Give me a call, set something up, and I'll be there." It makes me irritated to think of it now and I've been living in Japan for 3 weeks already.

Friday, May 7th

So long story short, my closest friend and sorority sister came through and planned a small get together that was supposed to be for me and the other 3 girls on our line (5 of us all together). And surprisingly, 2 of the girls were missing which was kind of ironic because they were the main ones leading the "we should all get together - and you should plan it" brigade. Of course, they both had a weak excuse for not showing up, but I didn't care because I was so happy to be able to get some support from the 2 that did and it was also nice to be able to take a load off and have some girl talk (which resulted in the "Let's Talk About Sex" blog post that I did before I disappeared off the face of the got-dang planet.)

So the next day, I had my family get together. Now there was some drama with that because the 2 big matriarchs of my family was feuding and it put some serious pressure on me. At one point I even cancelled the whole thing because I felt like no one was going to show up. (Isn't that jacked up . . . to cancel your own "surprise party") Long story short, at the end of the day, the whole freaking family showed up and I had a WONDERFUL time. The manfriend video-taped the whole event and although there was still some weirdness coming from the two "main components" of my family, there were so many people and there was so much food and so much support that I forgot all about it and all I felt was happiness and appreciation for everyone and everything. It was a freaking love fest. So after that, my bon voyage felt right.

May 14th

So the day of the big flight, I packed with my best friend until 3am in the morning. At 3:30, the manfriend drove me to the airport where I met up with my dad, mom, sister and niece. I was a little sad because I didn't get to say goodbye to my dog a little longer (shutup!) but when it was time for my flight to take off, the manfriend surprised me and told me that he would be taking the flight with me to San Francisco and that was why the dog had to go with his "grandmom" for the night. It was a lovely surprise and I really appreciated it. It was also a little awkward because I know that my mom and the manfriend must have planned that together (and also, I know that my dad and his new wife don't approve of the manfriend - so for my dad to be witnessing this "manfriend/mom collabo" must have been a little weird). Either way, it was an emotional goodbye and it still gets me a little misty eyed to think of the way my mother looked at me after I hugged her and let go so that I could walk away. *Tear - Lip quiver*

*Oh, and I didn't end up getting the Amazon Kindle. Because of all the support I received from my congregation, friends and family (and also because the Amazon Kindle isn't very foreign country friendly) I got the Ipad instead! And I absolutely love the thing!!!

So at the end of the day, one thing is for sure, if you ever want to know who really cares about you, and I mean REALLY cares . . . move to a foreign country. Everyone that you see in those last few days, weeks, minutes are the people who care. The people who hand you a card, or even a picture of you and them . . . those are the people who care. People who try to find out if there's any little thing they can do to help . . . or better yet, the people who don't ask at all and just help you . . . those are the people who care. The people who call you out of the blue just to tell you that they love you and will indeed miss the hell out of you and make sure that you know you are appreciated . . . those are the people who really matter. Bottom line, I had NO IDEA that I had so many people who cared about me, BUT I also didn't know how many "extra" friends I can now delete from my life. Leaving the states was a very sobering experience. I didn't expect it to be this deep.

Well, that's all I got for now.

I'm Back Snitchezzzz!!!!

2010-06-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

I'm baaaackkkk!!!!!

Thank Jehovah, I'm back!!! I don't know how I made it for so long in this country without internet, but I did . . . and now I'm back! Okay, let me get to the point.

I moved to Japan 3 weeks ago and without internet, obviously I was not able to blog about my experiences. However, I've been writing down every. single. thing. that has happened. So I'll start by catching you up on all of the juicy morsels of my experiences thus far. You may see more than one post in a day, but just know that I am catching you all the way up. Also, there is another blog that will feature some generic (i.e. family friendly) stories and pictures (yes, pictures) of my some random Black girl that I don't know nor have any connections to whatsoever's experiences. She seems cool, so feel free to frequent her blog whenever you get a chance. The addy is . . .

http://blackgirlnjapan.blogspot.com/

So that's all I got! Stay tuned snitches!

(Oh and thanks Manfriend for blogging on my behalf a little bit, even though you put our business out on the street! So freaking mushy . . . Gawd!)

I MISS MISS GREEN!!!

2010-05-31T12:39:00.000-07:00

Hello...The Man-friend here! I'm the type of guy who will let you know what I'm really thinking and feeling (which I hear is quite rare amongst my species!). That being said, I MISS MISS GREEN!!! I love Arnetta. I love her like a fat kid loves cake, okay?

I blame this burst of emotion on by a reply to the previous post from REBEL MEL. You see, about three months before Arnetta left for Japan, she went into this - how do I put it -"culinary coma"! She just went unconscious and started cooking like crazy! (Check out Arnetta's March 21 post.) Now, let me preface this by saying that both Miss Green and I already knew a little sumthin' sumthin' about cooking, so nobody was starving. But this was different. Girlfriend went into super-overdrive! I know she peeped some recipes from REBEL MEL and from ISLANDBABY. She got recipes out of books and off the Internet. Everytime I'd walk through the door, she was in the kitchen, whipping up some new dish. It made her even more happy than normal. I had about 10 weeks of all kinds of different meals...IT (echo) WAS (echo) HEAVEN! (double echo)

The food was amazing, but it just wasn't the food. It was this amazing experience. We went shopping together, looking all around for the exact ingredients. (Now, we used to shop together often, but this was more of a mission.) We set up the kitchen to make it as efficient as possible. She was the head chef and I was the assistant: grabbing this, opening that, chopping, kissing- helping whenever she wanted it. We created an atmosphere that enhanced the food: music, candles, wine (of course!)...and usually a movie afterward (and a foot-rub for her!). And of course, I did the dishes! It was an extremely small price to pay for being treated like a king. It was one of the most special things that anyone's ever done for me, and it was over a period of time. I recognize this burst of "foodiness" was more for herself, but I was THERE. I was a victim of her "collateral damage" of constant cooking. It was like JULIE & JULIA, except Arnetta is Amy Adams and is much, much foiner!!!

Once Miss Green is back blogging once again, I will go back into my world. This is her blog, after all. But for now, I am compelled to say that Arnetta is the best thing to ever happen to me. If she never cooked another thing in her life, this statement would still hold true. Hers is a wonderful spirit, and all it takes is a tiny thought to make my mind become engulfed in all-Arnetta, all the time. I know I'm kind of putting our biznass out there, but I gotta speak on it, or else I wouldn't be The Man-friend!

All that and she can cook too...damn, I'm a very lucky guy!!!

I MISS MISS GREEN!!! I love Arnetta.

Where In The World Is Arnetta Green???

2010-05-30T15:30:00.000-07:00

Hello...Man-friend here, the good guy behind the great woman, the most-wonderful Ms. Arnetta Green! If you are even an occasional follower of this blog, you know that Ms. Green has embarked on a year-long adventure in the beautiful and mysterious country of Japan. Now, while I miss her like crazy, I am happy about her incredibly courageous decision to see another country; another culture. It also gives me the opportunity to go visit...and yes, I already have my passport!

She gave me permission to go on her site and just go nuts - okay...not go nuts - to inform you that she is doing well, taking things day-by-day, and is looking forward to communicating all she has done and all she has seen in the three weeks she's been in the Land of the Rising Sun. Unfortunately, it's taking a little longer than she expected to get Internet access, but once she's connected, dear readers, she will bedazzle you with her tales from the other side of the world! She has her journal and assures me she is writing everything down, and in time , she will blog about it all.

That's about it. Good health and happiness to you all!

Peace and love,

The Man-friend

Let's Talk About Sex

2010-05-07T21:15:00.000-07:00

So I went to dinner with 2 of my sorority sisters today and while it was all in the spirit of giving me a send off, we talked about the usual subjects. (Their) married life, (their) children, our other sorority sisters and the old college days. One subject that came up that was kind of new (for us that is) was the subject of sex. We're usually a very conservative group but after a few drinks (and a ginger-ale for "preggars") we talked about everything from how often we've done it, having orgasms, giving oral, foreplay, sexually transmitted diseases, different positions, EVERYTHING.

Now both of my girlfriends are married - one has a child and the other is pregnant (and due in 12 days). "Preggars" was saying that she doesn't really have a sex drive and the other one was agreeing that she's not too excited about sex either. Now I didn't want to sound like the whore of the group but speaking as someone who has not had sex in a ~~very, very, very~~ long time, (after sitting for a while and looking at the both of them like they were crazy) I promptly told them that when I get married I plan on having a velcro, rip away wedding gown because it's GOING DOOOWN the night I get hitched. I told them that in all (2) of my relationships, I had sex prettymuch every. single. night. My girlfriends were both thoroughly shocked and laughed saying that they never really initiate sex and don't really care if it happens or not.

Now just listening to these ladies, I had to ask myself if marriage played some kind of major role in their sex drive or lack thereof. For example, a lot of men will say that the sex just stops after getting married. I've known these girls for about 9 years now and while they both say that they've never been "sex people", I remember one of them going through a very ~~whorish~~ liberal stage and the other one was just a major flirt in school. I would have never guessed that they would have gotten married and turned into "that lady" from TV . . . you know the one with the headache every night. I think that's insane. (Oh, and I promptly told them to "get on their jobs" and do what they had to do unless they wouldn't mind hiring a concubine to do it for them).

But then I had to ask myself if I was just being extra because I was single (in the not married sense) and have been celibate for a while. Maybe I don't realize how hard it is to be a wife and realize how the romance starts to ooze out of a relationship and sex turns into a chore. I can understand that to an extent, but I'm still a strong proponent of having a healthy sex life in a marriage. Either way, I hope to hold onto my sex drive by the time I get married. Listening to these girls today was like listening to a scary, ghost story LOL.

And 7 days left . . .

100 Posts and Seriously Wondering What the Future Holds

2010-05-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

So yeah, this is officially my 100th post and uh . . . I'm still alive. You may think I'm saying this because my blogging has been quite sporadic lately but that's not it. I'm saying this because I'm a survivor. Allow me to catch you up.

First things first, the man-friend lost his job. Yes. You read right. He lost his job the day before we went on our vacation. I would get into the details, but it was for a stupid reason and the management at his job are insecure, spineless, incompetent, dickwads that have been making really bad decisions that have lead to a lot of people being cut from that department (in the worst way) over the past year. Another thing, the manfriend makes literally about 3 times as much as I do (which translates to a whole lotta money) and it's going to be interesting seeing where this situation goes.

Second of all, we went on vacation and had to digest this information the whole time we were away. It was interesting the different transitions we went through, especially considering that we knew when we got back (Thursday) we were going to have only 2 weeks before I head off to Japan. So there was sadness, anger, more anger, numbness, confusion, laughter and later on, acceptance. We made the most of the trip and have been diving into the job hunt thing with high hopes and a whole lot of prayers.

So what this all boils down to is this . . . when I get back from Japan next year, (God-willing) the man-friend and pup will have started a new life somewhere without me. Can you imagine? I will be overseas, while my little family is picking up and moving and making all kinds of decisions that I can't be a part of. *Sigh* Life is crazy.

Either way, I am hoping for the best because the man-friend is the last person who deserves to be fired or looking for a job. He's always been that guy. You know? The "go to" guy who stays at work late emailing everyone to let them know what's going on, learning equipment and taking the initiative to create things while everyone else has long gone home and went to bed. He comes up with creative ideas (despite the fact that he doesn't get any credit for them) and has been respectful and personable to everyone in every department for the 17 years that he's been employed with the place . . . yes, 17 years. There have been times when he's gone to work and stayed so late that he comes back the next day and I've literally had to fix him a plate and drive it to the job for him. No one else has taken these kinds of initiatives and to tell you the truth, there's a teensy weensy part of me that is a little happy that he's gone from that place. Maybe this means that he will finally start looking into some management positions (something I have been pushing him to do for a while now, anyway).

One of the biggest arguments and problems that I've always had with the man-friend is his tendency to procrastinate and/or stay in a situation that is in desperate need of an upgrade. He just gets comfortable and won't budge, despite my aggressive nudging and hinting. To his credit I can be a super emotional, overly suspicious, cynical, paranoid, pain in the butt . . . BUT, I am still a female and my "wimmin's intuition" is rarely off target. So I'd been giving the old man hints that he should upgrade to another job for over a year now, and I think this kind of shows that I wasn't so crazy after-all. Either way, this wasn't the way I wished it would happen, but I guess it was necessary to whatever major change was meant to take place in our lives.

So enough of that . . . I have about 12 days left before I am on an airplane flying over the Pacific Ocean. It's been a little overwhelming lately with all of the parties and people wanting to meet up. Unfortunately, with all of the phone calls and "let's get together before you go" invitations, I have gotten just 3 donations to my ChipIn account to buy an Amazon Kindle (and one of them kind of doesn't count because it's from the man-friend). It's a little disappointing considering the many gifts and favors that I've given to friends over the years. I talked to my ex boyfriend this morning and he made a really good point. He says that I've done favors for people and given gifts, but that people don't appreciate it because they don't know the monetary value of what I've done. For example, I've provided services (on several occasions) for my friends that otherwise would have cost them thousands of dollars. My ex was saying that if I'd have provided an actual invoice that said, $2,500 (or whatever) that people would get a better idea of how much money they've saved or how much work was put into a project. I totally get what he was saying and agree with him, but at the end of the day I have just been blown away at the fact that it is taking this long for people to give . . . what? . . . $5 to my account after I've jumped at the opportunity to contribute to any major milestones in their lives. Also, I've always been proactive about helping my friends out, whereas I haven't received not one phone call asking if there is anything they can do/help me with. Am I taking this too far? Maybe I'm expecting too much. The man-friend has always said that I'm a really good friend and I go the extra mile for people but I always assumed that this was something that my friends would be willing to do for me in return. Guess I was wrong. (Insert sad face and womp, womp, wooomp sound effect).

Either way, I am gearing up to go to Japan and am quite sure that this will be the furthest thing from my mind when I arrive. I will be running around doing all kinds of stuff and will probably be missing my family, the man-friend and these same self-centered, inconsiderate friends that I've been moaning and complaining about in this post. Right now I am doing my best to spend as much time as possible with my doggy's daddy before I go (which isn't too hard because we have a lot more time to spend together now that he's unemployed . . . cue the laugh track). Oh, and highlight to our vacation (which was at Disney World by the way), one of the characters sees me and the man-friend walking arm and arm and says, "You guys look like a happy couple. I bet you're celebrating something!" and the man-friend says without missing a beat . . .

"We're celebrating the fact that I just got fired from my job!"

And then we just burst out laughing as the poor guy stood there looking at us with confusion. Needless to say, we have been curbing the stress of the situation by exercising our morbid sense of humor and actually, it's been effective.

So things are insane right now, but for some odd reason I believe they are going to get better. I hope they are going to get better.

And since when did Brian McKnight get a late night talk show? (Yes, I know that was mad random but his talk show is mad random. It's like, where the heck did it come from? I never even saw a commercial for it. Okay, I really need to go to bed, LOL)

Goodnight Brian McKnight. Goodnight everybody!

My 100th Post

2010-04-21T10:09:00.000-07:00

So I was looking at my Dashboard today and noticed that this is my 99th post. Wow! I can't believe that I am just one post away from 100. I'm thinking about making my 100th post special, like my first day in Japan or something (but that's almost a month away). So I have no clue what to do.

Any suggestions? Friends, followers, lurkers ~~I can see you~~ what do you think? Anything you want to know? Holla atcha girl! (Is that still cool to say?)

Well, that's it!

Smooches!

Facebook Peeves

2010-04-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

So I have a bunch of things to do. I have some reading to get caught up on and some Japanese words to recite over and over again. Am I doing those things? As you can see, the answer to that question would be a big fat N-O. So how does one make the best of their procrastination? By going on Facebook, of course. Facebook and procrastination go together like peanut butter and jelly. So while on Facebook today, I've noticed a few things that kind of get on my nerves.

First of all . . . why do people request your friendship over and over again? What is really the point? And then when (or if) you finally accept their friendship they have nothing to say? Again, what is the point? Looking at my pictures is really worth getting denied over and over again? Just give up!

Also, and I will give the disclaimer that I am a Christian, but with that said I find it so annoying when people use Facebook like a pulpit. I am very happy with my religion and I understand that you want to share your "blessed-ness" with everyone but seriously, I don't want to hear your prayer to God. I think it sounds preachy, pretentious and insincere. Your prayers and personal relationship with God should be sacred, not a "status" on freaking Facebook.

Another Facebook thing that I find annoying are the "I'm so busy and important" updates. Now I may sound like a hater with this one, but I notice (in my particular case) that these kinds of updates only seem to come from my fraternity brothers (who I will not mention except to say Black and Gold). Now I have nothing against these brothers and I appreciate the contributions they make to society, but I swear that they are one group of men who absolutely love to ~~brag~~ tell you about themselves and how busy they are wearing a suit, working in an office and being important. Newsflash . . . people who are important in real life, don't brag about it on Facebook. I have already deleted 2 of these guys off of my page.

Last but not least are the "I am your cousin's pastor's best friend's god-daughter's next door neighbor's Uncle. Let's be friends." Umm . . . let's not. And then of course, they request your friendship again. *Sigh*

All right, that's all I got for now. What annoys you about Facebook (besides the fact that there should be a dislike button)?

Last Day at Work and A Little Background on My Life

2010-04-18T11:26:00.000-07:00

Today was my last day at work. After 5 years of blood, sweat and tears I have finally ended this chapter in my life. Everyone at my job was all pouty faced and sentimental . . . some of them (people who I've never seen acting like serious adults) telling me that they'd miss me, things aren't going to be the same without me and attempting to drop some words of wisdom on me before I took my final steps down the hallway leading out to the door. I took a bunch of pictures and got a little nostalgic at times, coming to terms with good and bad memories that will now be a part of my immediate and later on, distant past. Now some of yall might think I'm being a little dramatic right now, but this job was my whole life for 5 years. 5 YEARS!

Allow me to take you down memory lane for a minute.

In the Beginning . . .

It all started with an internship. My senior year of college, I decided that I needed to get an internship and immediately started going on hunts to look for one. At one media networking event for college students, I squeezed my way through a crowd to meet an asian reporter at one of the leading news stations in my area. She told me that I started looking for an internship waaay to late and the odds of me landing one at her station (the biggest one in town) or any station for that matter was slim to none. She then pointed in the direction of a lonely man standing in the corner and said, "Maybe you should try the people over at the WB." (Cue the "womp womp woooomp" sound effect.)

So fast forward a couple months, I managed to get accepted into an internship in a strange way. One day I was sitting at a panel discussion and a bunch of anchors, reporters, DJ's and maybe 2 executive heads were telling us college students about life working in news television, radio, and tv production. All of the students in the room were in typical college gear - you know, sweatshirts, pajama bottoms and flip flops. I wore a business suit and to this day, I think this was what helped me to stand out in this crowd of over 150 students. That and when the event was over, everyone bee-lined for the anchors, reporters and DJ's while yours truly made a bee-line over to the executive heads. "I want to be a director, how do I go about doing that?" I asked one of the executive heads that was especially staring at me during the panel discussion and handed her my resume. The lady (who'd just finished basically dismissing some dude in front of me with "yeah, yeah, uh huh, okay, thanks, bye!") said to me, "Wait one second! I am going to give you the cell phone number of our main guy. I want you to call him and if he says he's busy, you call him again and again, okay? Don't give up!" "Okay," I said and long story short, I called the guy, we arranged a meeting and the next thing you know I was getting water for the same asian reporter who told me I wouldn't get an internship anywhere.

Getting Hired . . . Or in My Case, Never Leaving

So I did my internship and tried as hard as I could to learn everything. Despite this one guy that was a major suck up in our little group of 5 maybe 6 people, I still managed to stand out amongst my peers. By the time the internship was drawing to a close, everyone knew who I was and what I intended to do. I applied for a million and one jobs after I graduated and ended up with a sucky temp job that had absolutely nothing to do with my field of study and was so boring that when I would arrive at the building every morning I would sit in my car for maybe 15 minutes crying and willing the place to implode. That didn't happen, but fortunately, an opening (for the lowest possible position) at the station I did my internship with opened up and I applied and landed the job. This was the beginning of my working odd hours. I worked Monday through Friday, from 4am to 8am earning 10 dollars an hour not counting, of course, the hour it took for me to get to the place because I lived 65 miles away. I made about one hundred dollars a week but when you subtract for toll and gas (and this was around the time gas prices skyrocketed) it was really more like 35 dollars a week. And I didn't even count the cell phone bill, because the cell phone stayed disconnected. So I did this for a while and would train on different machines for about 4 more hours after my shift ended. This and I volunteered my time to working as many major televised events as I possibly could (to the point that I am still notorious for being the girl who has at one time worked in every single department in the building). So yeah, I was hawngry!

Anywhoosits, all of that training finally paid off and I was able to land a much better paying job working overnight weekends and filling in during the week.

A Stepping Stone or a Slump?

I began this last job, hoping that it would be a stepping stone to my dream job and applied for different positions every weekend while at work. There were not a lot of responses, but I didn't care. I was working local events and busily building up my resume with special projects and live productions that my company would put on. After my resume got healthier, I began to get some feedback. I found myself driving out to interviews and at one point, was even flown out to an interview. Still, nothing. Rejection is a part of this industry, I told myself, one day I'll get something. A year passed by and I was still hungry, working as many hours as possible, applying for things and getting rejected. In the meantime, I became that friend. You know? The one that never gets out. My love life was pathetic and I found myself putting up with pretty-much anything so that I could have some kind of companionship.

Before I knew it, 3 years had passed by. At this point, I was feeling restless and worried that there was something terribly wrong with me and I would be stuck at this place forever. I was embarrassed and felt that I'd turned into the "former intern" who just couldn't seem to move on. I remember that particular year, someone said to me, "What happened? It seemed like you used to have goals but now . . . it's like you're stuck in a rut or something." That comment still pisses me off to this day, lol. Either way, I was in a strange place. A purgatory (if you will). Too qualified for the beginner jobs and not qualified enough for everything else. I worked enough to get by, but not enough to do anything more. I went into a depression, sneaking in and out of my job using the backdoor stairwell. I stopped speaking to people, would break into tears at my desk and found myself sitting outside of the building and praying for the place to explode. Also, my boyfriend at the time (who was also one of my coworkers - yeah, I know, bad idea) was cheating on me and it also didn't help that a really ugly rumor was flying around about me at work. So I did what everybody does when they're going through some ish in life . . . I took my butt to church.

This lifted my spirits to a degree and allowed me to put my energies toward something that felt more fulfilling. I started to inadvertently let things go. Like my apartment. It took up about 75% of my paycheck and at this point in my life, I started dating the man-friend and spent most of my time at his place anyway so I (verbally) decided that I was going to move into another apartment but ended up just crashing with him instead. So a year goes by, and I'm still mailing out applications to no avail. My relationship with coworkers began to cool off since I didn't see them as much and I began hanging with my church friends and involving myself in more "spiritual" activities. I decided that I didn't want my job to become my life, but still attempted to find something full-time. This time, I kept my mouth shut about any job prospects, thinking that maybe I'd been jinxing myself all these years. I stayed focused and to a degree, got a little bit of my "strength" back when it came to dealing with rejections. Within that 2 year period, I saw 4 of my closest friends get engaged, get married and have children. I never got jealous of them because I knew that wasn't my path in life, but I continued to wonder when my life was going to finally take that dramatic twist and I would land the television job of my dreams.

A Revelation

So whilst having a typical (or long) conversation with my mom about life, the topic of applying for jobs came up and my mother says, "Arnetta, I think you're going to have to seriously consider looking outside of the box."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Maybe you should look for jobs outside of this area," she replied.

"I already do that."

"Yeah, but maybe you should look into doing something different (pause) something different and far away," she said, hesitating for a moment. "I don't know . . . something told me to tell you that."

"Okay," I said.

And the rest is history.

26 Days.

Buy Me an Amazon Kindle . . . Pleeease!!!

2010-04-14T14:50:00.001-07:00

I have had a great couple of weeks, despite all of the busy-ness and stress. I say this because when you're telling a bunch of people that you plan on leaving the country, that's when everybody gets all sentimental and nostalgic. People have been scheduling appointments with me like I'm the hottest hairstylist in town. My calendar is filled with all of my best friend's names. Saturday I saw a bunch of my friends together at the same time (how about them apples), Tuesday dinner with Shalanda, Wednesday happy hour with Tameka, Friday with Sheryl and so on and so forth. It's like an unending parade of my favorite people. I have to start telling everyone I'm leaving the country more often, lol.

One thing that kind of sucks, though, is that I just ruined my surprise Bon Voyage party. Actually, the man-friend did. He planned a week vacation without checking in with the party committee and everything was planned on the same day and my mom had to confess to me why I just couldn't leave for Florida on April 24th. That kind of sucked, because I love surprises and have never really gotten a chance to actually experience one for myself. :-(

What it all boils down to, though, is that I need an Amazon Kindle in my life. I just need it! I'm tired of looking over the shoulder of the guy on the train. I want one for myself. But money is tight right now so all I can do is just dream (and continue to drop serious hints).

Time to email this video to friends and family! Toodle-Loo!

Officially Off the Hampster Wheel

2010-04-14T07:49:00.000-07:00

So for those of you who (actively) follow me . . . does anyone remember the job interview post I did a couple months ago? You know?

Well, it didn't exactly go like that, but hopefully the picture (which is also a link) rings a bell. Now does anyone remember that this whole "job opportunity" came up at the same exact time that I had to purchase my plane ticket for Japan? Also, does anyone remember that I interviewed for the position because one of the head honchos at my job was really adament about my applying for it? Remember how he answered all of my post-interview questions as if I already had the job (i.e. "When are you looking to fill the position Mr. So-and-so?" "Well, when will you be done with you're current job, Arnetta?") Does anyone remember how I (for a split second) wondered whether I should consider taking this job, rather than going to Japan because it seemed like it was "already in the bag"? And I did that post asking everyone which side they were on . . . team Japan or team "stay my butt at home - with the manfriend and pup - in the United States"? Remember how I haven't really wrote anything about it since?

Well that was 2 months ago and believe it or not, I still have not heard anything back from the guy. (Not that I care at this point). But let me give you some background as to what happened after the interview. I called the guy up every other day to find out if the position had been filled to which he always said, "No, but I will let you know next week." I dropped a "Thank You" note on his desk a week and a half after the interview, to cover all bases. I made sure to show my face around the area in order to show that I am actively engaged in the workplace (or something like that). Now allow me to mention that I have some "over-achiever" issues. In other words, I am always going to try to do things to the best of my ability. So despite the fact that I had the Japan job in the bag, I didn't want to slack on my interview because that's just not my style. And regardless of knowing that this job may not have been what I wanted at this time in my life, I was still going to beat out the competition and go for it like I wanted it. (And yes, deep down I kind of wanted it....it's what I went to school for after all.)

So time passed by and I got more involved with another project and pretty much gave up hope for the job that I'd interviewed for. I figured that after all of this time, I probably didn't get it anyway and I was thankful that I ended buying the plane ticket to Japan. (And a special shout out to Islandbaby and Stephanie for voicing your "team Japan" opinions.) So the day that I gave my two weeks notice (last week) I heard through a bird that they offered the position that I interviewed for to some random outsider and that she TURNED IT DOWN because it was part-time and had LOUSY HOURS. Allow me to be petty for a moment.

Aaaagh hahahahahaha!!!! In your FACE!!!! You could have just hired me! I was ready and willing to do that job ~~months~~ years ago but now I'm heading out to a different country! Good luck finding another sucker to waste 5 years of their life doing overnight weekends.

Ahem! All right, I'm back. But seriously, if I didn't already believe the devil existed before this . . . I would be a believer right about now. Could you imagine if I didn't buy that plane ticket, how hard I would be kicking myself?! That whole situation was set up perfectly. I had the job that I'd always wanted being dangled in front of me like a carrot, at the very moment that I decided to tear myself away from the hampster wheel and attempt to live a fulfilling life. It still makes me shiver.

Either way, now I am POSITIVE that I was supposed to leave my current job and that although I am making a life altering decision and will be away from my man, my family, my friends, and my ~~son~~ dog, everything is going to be okay and I will finally start living the fulfilling life that God has in store for me. I guess that was the final mental boundary that I had to break through in order to take this huge leap. So at this point, all doubts have been removed and the countdown begins.

Off to Japan in exactly 30 days.

Bag n' Tag . . . I'm It!!!

2010-04-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

So now that the workaholic marathon month is over and I finally have a few minutes to myself, I have decided to get to this Bag n Tag that my deary RebelMel tagged me for like a million years ago. So without further ado this . . .

. . . is my bag!

And this here . . .

is what's inside of my bag.

Allow me to take you on a tour here.

First of all, this is my "churchy" bag. I mainly take this bag with me to church, but have been taking it to work over the past couple months because I've been too busy to switch things out. Also, I needed some of that bible literature to stop me from punching people in the face. Sooo

#1 - There's my bible (inside of a plastic zip lock bag) and a daily scripture book

#2 - Some highlighters and pens

#3 - A little makeup bag that I got from my grandmom's garage almost twenty years ago. Actually, I think it's like a man's mini shaving kit bag, but I use it to hold makeup in.

#4 - A little notebook

#5 - A change purse with chinese design all over it

#6 - A ponytail holder

#7 - Two receipts - one for a leather jacket I got at "Daffy's" for $90 and the other for a pair of shades that I bought yesterday for $13.99

#8 - Some index cards

#9 - Another notebook (looove those black and white composition books)

#10 - Yet, another notebook (this one grey)

#11 - Some colorful bookmark tabs

#12 - A credential from an event I worked almost 2 years ago.

#13 - A red pencil sharpener

#14 - A small pack of Altoids (the curiously strong mint!)

#15 - A french tip manicure set (I guess, just in case I decide to do my nails on the train?? *shrugs*)

#16 - Some lotion

#17 - Seven cents

#18 - A pair of tweezers

#19 - A makeup pencil, some lipgloss and a small mirror that I received as a gift for being someone's bridesmaid (and never the bride . . . long sigh!)

#20 - A little bag of tissue

#21 - A camera

Are you really still reading? Wow! Well, okay . . . then, here's another bag for you to peruse. This is more of a casual bag for me. The straps have gotten worn, so I don't use it as much. But here are the contents.

#1 - Some passport pictures that I took a couple months ago.

#2 - $1.21 (Where the *expletive* was all of this change when I got that $72 ticket for not putting another quarter in the meter???)

#3 - Contact case

#4 - My old cell phone

#5 - Trash

#6 - Two packs of matches (just in case I decide to start smoking??? *more shrugs*)

#7 - My registration

#8 - A tampon and a pad

#9 - My checkbook (wish it was the manfriend's checkbook :-)

#10 - Yet another white nail polish, french tip manicure pen. (And my nails are needing that touch up right now . . . maybe it's a sign)

#11 - A pack of cards

#12 - Two lipglosses (that are very old and have probably dried out), some eyeshadow, an eyeshadow brush and an eyeliner pencil

#13 - A pencil sharpener

#14 - A pen and a highlighter

#15 - A small, silver hair clip

And I think that about completes that bag.

Now last, but certainly not least there's the small "I'm-in-a-rush-and-don't-feel-like-carrying-everything-in-the-whole-world-so-let-me-just-grab-this-and-bounce" bag.

And here are the contents . . .

#1 - Being that I carried this bag today, my wallet is in there. (The wallet is the only thing that switches out of each bag)

#2 - Two highlighters of course (I'm beginning to realize that I do a lot of highlighting)

#3 - A pen

#4 - $1.79 in change. (Again, where was all of this freaking change coming from after I've already racked up those stupid parking tickets???!!!)

#5 - A train ticket

#6 - A button that I've been telling myself I would sew back onto my outfit (and now I forget what outfit it came bursting off of)

#7 - Lipstick, two mascara things (one for thickness the other for length), two eyeshadow things, an eyebrow brush and some eyebrow shader stuff.

#8 - My gym swipe keychain

#9 - Lip balm

#10 - Altoids

#11 - A paperclip and two hair clips

#12 - A business card from a local designer

#13 - A coupon card for a local coffee shop

All righty then. I think that's all I got. Now I know I'm supposed to tag someone to do this, but I'm not choosey. I want to see what's in EVERYBODY'S bag . . . so all 10 of my followers are tagged. And I'm even tagging you lurkers who refuse to follow me! (I can seeee youuuu!!!) If you are reading this and want to dump out your bag . . . do it!!! I am sooo nosey and would love to see the goodies that you guys carry around on a regular basis. That is all. Hope this wasn't too boring for yall.

Peace!

Old Timer's Disease

2010-03-31T09:03:00.000-07:00

I have probably already said this before, but I am definitely going to be one of those crazy little old ladies who holds conversations with myself or even worse...conversations with people who are looong gone from my life. Why? Well, because I've already started. Now I'm not even going to drop the "this may sound crazy..." disclaimer on this post because I KNOW I'm not the only one who talks to themselves. Some of yall know you start your morning routines off on the porcelain throne with thoughts of yester-year or yesterday's mistakes, lol. This week just happened to be mind-numbingly surreal and super busy so I've been trying to pick up some pieces and put things into perspective. Either way, every so often a soul-draining, "Noooooh!" will escape my mouth or a sudden burst of "Ugh!" And do you know what that looks like to the outside world? It looks like I should be over at Shady Acres hugging myself in a padded room.

UGH!!!

Just An Excuse to Post Some of My Favorite Songs

2010-03-27T04:10:00.000-07:00

So last night I went to a Ledisi/ Mint Condition concert. Being that it was a Friday night and I work from 3am to 10am on Saturday mornings (and yes, I'm at work right now) I ended up getting only 2 hours of sleep. But boy was it worth it!!! Sooooo worth it! Ledisi tore up that stage and then Mint Condition went on ahead and set that ish on fiah.

Now here are some of the things that was running through my mind while Mint Condition slayed the audience.

1. I didn't know that "Stokley," Mint Condition's lead singer, was so short.
2. I also didn't know that he looked so much like Kirk Franklin - maybe it was his being short and wearing a hat and jumping around the whole stage.
2a. He may be short, but with a voice like that ~~he could get it~~ I can understand why he is the lead singer.
3. What happened to good male R&B groups?

So I got to thinking about some of the songs that came out during my formative years and how much music has changed since then. I remember singing R&B songs in the backseat of my mom's mini van along with my sisters. Just belting out lyrics that had no curse words, no reference to sex or body parts but had a grown person's swag to it that even we recognized as children. Songs so serious it made you understand that this man (and about 3 or 4 of his buddies) were pouring out their very souls...every last inch of what their heart could offer...putting it on a track and giving you the privilege of listening to it in the courtesy of your own home. With real drums, piano and saxophone in the background.

"This feeling is the one thing my heart is sure of." Yall don't hear me though!

I'm sorry ~~not really~~ but I am a lyric person. I listen to every word an "artist" sings and you can't just talk about "inventing sex" or "getting sex therapy." You have to grab my heart and just rip it out of my chest while it's still beating. I am very passionate about words. And I know that "sex sells" but I'm that old-fashioned kind of day-dreamy, romance obsessed girl that still listens to a song and imagines that it's about me.

(Even though this song really is about me. I actually have almondy, dark brown eyes in real life.)

So if you're going to sing about love, (deep RuPaul voice) you betta sing about LOVE. And I mean real love. Unlike these teeny boppers out here today, some of us can still tell the difference.

For example, have you ever been on your way to see the love of your life after not seeing them for maybe a year, a month, a week or even just one day. But the anticipation of seeing them makes you feel like your heart is going to just jump out of your chest?

Or have you ever gotten out of a relationship with someone that you loved because they didn't know how to give you what you needed? Well, I'ma need you to fast forward to 2:10 on this next video.

Or how about some plain, ole-fashioned feel good music?

And the videos! Remember the music videos?

You want special effects? 6 seconds in. (It's like they appear from thin air).

Cutting edge fashion? Just check out the shoulder pads and hair at 34 seconds.

Sensual dance moves? 1:28 to 1:40

And see who Rihanna stole those sunglasses from at 17 seconds.

Okay, okay, the videos weren't the best...but at least they tried!

On a positive note, there are plenty of good songs out there that remind me that R&B is not completely dead but I guess going to the Ledisi/ Mint Condition concert last night just brought back some nostalgic memories of my favorite male R&B groups. Also, I will be meeting Boyz II Men (another group that was killing the game) for an event coming up in April and I've been listening to a lot of their music lately. Seeing them perform should be interesting (despite the absence of Mike a.k.a the only decent looking one in the group). And that brings me to another thing about the R&B singers. They weren't lookers, but the way they sang and performed their songs...it didn't matter! In some cases, the uglier they were...the better they sounded.

If you can tell me who wasn't blasting that song in 1991, I will give you a million dollars!

Well, I guess we're at the end of this post. But you know I can't conclude without posting a song from one of the best male R&B groups of all time...

Sexual Chocolate!!!

They play so fine, don't you agree?

Hell Hath Frozen Over

2010-03-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

I have been EXHAUSTED lately, working 7 days a week. It's been 2 months that I've been working both overnight weekends and doing a seasonal job for the other 5 days. (Trying to save up money). Either way, I've been really tired and kind of short with folks due to the lack of energy it takes to make small talk, kiss butts and actually just give a rat's booty. The one thing that has come out of the freaking woodwork, however, is an innate desire to cook. And I mean COOK. I don't know...maybe a brain cell burst and my "home-maker" gene came oozing out or something but I have been doing some out of character things like going into the kitchen and whipping up stuff that takes hours to make and actually includes fresh ingredients and ish. And it's been on an obsessive tip too. Like the other day, I couldn't sit down and eat before I baked dessert. And today, I found out that I had an hour to kill so I drove downtown in the pouring rain to the grocery store (20 minutes away) to get one JUST ONE missing ingredient for something I've been wanting to make. And then the pictures. I take pictures of all of my dishes. So I'll just get straight to the point with what this post is pretty-much about.

Pictures!!! . . . of my foood!!!

Spaghetti and (homemade) Meatballs naturally

Bread Pudding

As per Islandbaby's awesome new blog Memories of a Chunky Chick (which yall need to check out because she will be posting healthy recipes among other wonderful things)

Vegetarian Thai Red Curry Soup and Lemon Grass infused Jasmine Rice

That finished product is gorgeous, isn't it? ISN'T IT??!!!

And as per RebelMel's wonderful Friday posts over at Tweeded.com I present to you . . .

Vegan Red Velvet Cupcakes

And yes, my shirt says "Kiss me, I'm Black"! It was St. Patrick's Day!

There's more to come, but yeah . . . in the past couple days, I've been getting my Betty Crocker on! Maybe there's hope for me yet.

Now off to go stir up this bean dish.

Cheese to go with my Whine

2010-03-18T13:39:00.000-07:00

At work today, my supervisor decided to get on every last one of my nerves. He'd reached the very last one when I was forced to go outside and put some money into my parking meter, only to find that I'd already gotten a $76 ticket. Also, I was in a "tow away after 3:30pm" zone and it was 3:33 so I had to move my car. Only, I'd left my keys in the office. So 5 blocks back to the office, 5 blocks back to my car (which was still there thank God) I called up the manfriend and went into moan and groan mode. Luckily the manfriend knows what to say in those situations.

Me: And he had the nerve to say that the music I picked for the segment wouldn't work because (blah, blah, blah. Whine, moan, complain)

Manfriend: He has a lot of nerve. Tell him that he doesn't know what he's talking about.

Me: (shrill, high pitched voice) And I got this $76 ticket! I'm already $250 in the hole this month.

Manfriend: Don't worry babe I'll pay the ticket. You have enough to deal with.

So while pulling out of my parking spot, eyebrows furrowed and mouth contorted into a permanent frown I remember saying, "I want to cry. I really want to cry right now!"(Because I'm so grown). And right then and there the saddest violin song starts playing. No lie. Violins.

I look around, trying to figure out where the heck the soundtrack to my life was coming from and I see on the street corner, a sad looking school boy playing a violin. The violin case sitting in front of him as onlookers dropped change into it. It looked like something out of Les Miserables. And then a solitary leaf floated ever so gently to the ground in front of him. At that moment I burst out laughing. I realized how immature I sounded and it hit me that all I needed was a lonely violin to play behind my childish whining . . . and I actually got it.

From that point on, my mood changed and I realized that it was an extraordinarily beautiful day. Sunny, 73 degrees. After 3 straight weeks of surprise snow storms and then 40 days and 40 nights (okay 4 days and nights) of rain, I was complaining on a day like this? I told the manfriend that I was fine and that I'd handle my boss and the $76 ticket. He was a little confused by my sudden mood swing, but relieved. (Poor guy! I take him through so much, lol)

So now every time I complain I hear that sorry violin song. Okay, Jehovah . . . I get it! Thanks for the kick in the pants!

Why I Don't Get Enough Love

2010-03-16T09:17:00.000-07:00

So this morning whilst checking my email, I came across a comment that my dear friend Stephanie over at Not the Oxygen left on one of my posts.

@Arnetta: I just posted your link on 20sb for blogs that don't get enough love because I think you don't...and you're cool. I don't know what the problem is :P

First of all . . . I heart you Stephy-Poo and if you ever want to go gay (minus the monogamy and the sexy time) I'm all for it . . . and secondly *shrugs* I don't know what's up wit dat either. I'm like the little match girl of blogs. I've resigned myself to the idea that I'm just a "starving artist." Someone who blogs to release tension, whether the world is watching or not. I mean, I wouldn't mind a few more followers, but at this point I'm just happy to have an outlet. Either way, these are some of the reasons - real or imaginary - why I think I don't have a million and one (or even 11) followers.

- My blogging is way too sporadic. I will sometimes blog every day and then just not blog for a week/month (although I've been blogging a lot lately). Sometimes the blogs will be funny, sometimes serious, sometimes a little bit of both. Maybe this confuses people.

- I don't have an interesting enough life. In other words, the "man-friend" stories are not cutting it, lol.

- I am an anonymous blogger. I think it's harder for people to connect with someone they can't see. (That's probaby a big one)

- I have garlic breath. And somehow people can smell it through the interwebs. (I eat a lot of italian food)

- My writing does not translate the way I think it does and it comes off confusing, negative, hokey, depressing, corny, random, (fill in the blank).

- I don't have a "thing." You know, a theme, like Lilu's TMI - Thursdays or Re-Ramblings "Pot Luck" Posts or RebelMel's "Freeby Fridays."

- I don't post comments on enough blogs. To tell you the truth, I don't have the time. But the 15 or 16 blogs that I do frequent get their fair share of comments from Arnetta Green, trust that.

- I'm not bad~~ass~~ butt enough

- I get too philosophical. This is something I've been accused of doing in "real life." Just talking about life, feelings, relationships, history and maybe people don't want to hear that ish.

- I don't twitter, or reveal my facebook info.

- My layout or title is not cool enough.

- Either, a very influential blogger didn't like a comment I left on a blog or they read one of my posts and didn't like it...so they black listed me, turning the whole web world against me.

- (This is not really a reason-but it further explains my "black-listed" conjecture) So there's a blogger that I used to follow and I noticed that every time I would make a comment, she would never respond. Which was kind of odd, because she wasn't a "hands off" kind of blogger. Okay, whatever, I thought to myself. Maybe she didn't get around to reading my comment. So one day, she'd gotten quite a few comments and responded to each and every one of them, big and small, generic and personal, every last one...all except mine. Coincidence? I don't think so. And I swear my comments were stuff like, "Your dog is beautiful. What breed is he?" or "That looked like fun. Glad it came together for you!" I'm telling you...I'm blacklisted! You guys might want to be careful not to get black-listed by association.

- Maybe I'm excluding a demographic. Sometimes I talk about subjects like race, class and gender. And frankly, that can just be "too heavy" for people. *shrugs*

- Not enough pictures on my blog. You know blog-readers are "baby brains." They need the pictures to keep them going. Morons!

- Maybe I'm too condescending to my potential-followers. Calling them "morons" and "baby brains."

- I don't have enough skills/hobbies or enough . . . I don't know "life" in my life. Like I don't garden, not a clean freak, don't sew/knit or cook too often...my schedule (right now) is overly-packed with work...and when I get home, I mainly just walk the dog, watch tv and go to sleep. Okay...aaand maybe this is the part of the post where I should just kill myself, LOL.

- Maybe I'm just too fabulous and you ~~morons~~ guys can't relate.

- Maybe I'm not fabulous?

- ...nah! I'm fabulous.

Well, that's all I got for now. But all jokes aside, I absolutely love blogging and appreciate any comments, "following" or support that I get. You guys are a small group, but you lift my spirits and make me feel a little less crazy every day.

All right, enough mushyness. Time to get back to work, but first allow me to leave you with this delightful find.

You're welcome! :)

In The News . . .

2010-03-12T11:01:00.000-08:00

Here are some news stories that have peaked my interest today.

Nurses' union: Care does not include sex

Thu Mar 11, 4:21 pm ET
AMSTERDAM (Reuters) – A union representing Dutch nurses will launch a national campaign Friday against demands for sexual services by patients who claim it should be part of their standard care.

The union, NU'91, is calling the campaign "I Draw The Line Here," with an advert that features a young woman covering her face with crossed hands.

The union said in a statement Thursday that the campaign follows a complaint it had received in the last week from a 24-year-old woman who said a 42-year-old disabled man asked her to provide sexual services as part of his care at home.

The young woman witnessed some of the man's other nurses offering him sexual gratification, the union said. When she refused to do the same, he tried to dismiss her on the grounds that she was unfit to provide care.

"This type of action is not part of the job responsibilities of carers and nurses," NU'91 said.
The case has been reported to police, the union added.
(Reporting by Ben Berkowitz, editing by Paul Taylor)

Okay, you know what really pisses me off about this situation, aside from the obvious ridiculousness of thinking that the same person that changes one's diapers is going to suck one's dick? The fact that there are women out there who actually did. I swear there is always one woman (and in most cases - more than one) who . . . in the middle of your fighting to raise the standard . . . will knock you out of the way and stoop to levels so low that you can totally understand why men will ask - demand even - that every woman stoop a little (or a lot) lower. I swear we do it to ourselves. (And I don't care if prostitution is legal in Amsterdam, we've got to do better ladies. Good grief!!!)

Okay, next story . . .

"Women of all races bring home less income and own fewer assets, on average, than men of the same race, but for single black women the disparities are so overwhelmingly great that even in their prime working years their median wealth amounts to only $5.

In a groundbreaking report released Monday by a leading economic research group, social scientists turned a spotlight on the grave financial challenges facing an often overlooked group of women, many of whom could not take an unpaid sick day or repair a major appliance without going into debt.

"It's rather shocking," said Meizhu Lui, director of the Closing the Gap Initiative based in Oakland, Calif., who contributed to the report "Lifting as We Climb: Women of Color, Wealth and America's Future. Among the most startling revelations in the wealth data is that while single white women in the prime of their working years (ages 36 to 49) have a median wealth of $42,600 (still only 61 percent of their single white male counterparts), the median wealth for single black women is only $5.

Read more here

Gaaaah! There's too many factors involved for me to judge anybody. Those stats are sobering, though.

That is all.

Look at Your Own Risk

2010-03-09T19:31:00.000-08:00

Things that make my soul cry . . .

And. I'm. spent. Goodnite!

Men are From Mars

2010-03-02T08:36:00.000-08:00

I got into an argument with the man-friend on the car ride to work this morning. It started out as a casual conversation about the sense of entitlement that the majority of the male species seem to have. The man-friend was pretty agreeable, and in fact was the one that initiated the conversation in the first place based on the funny video clip from the 3 Amigos that I posted the other day. He shook his head at the idea of knowing that a man would actually consider killing someone who didn't return their sexual advances but said that to a degree (and as a man) he knows how men think and that they do tend to have a higher sense of entitlement than women.

So in his random way of telling pointless stories (which is something we both have in common as you can see by this post) he proceeds to tell me about how he went upstairs to walk the neighbor's dog (backstory to that is . . . she broke her leg and we've been doing the neighborly thing for her- we have a very "I Love Lucy" relationship with our neighbors) so anywho, he was waiting while she was getting the dog ready and noticed that her HD television was not on an HD channel. He then tells her to turn the station to the HD version of whatever channel it was already on, which she does, and he begins to explain to her the way the channels work and how HD stations work and all kinds of jibberish that I'm sure she just nodded, smiled and listened to. (If you haven't already guessed, the man-friend works in the television business). So according to his story, he finishes his HD television monologue with the words, "This is the channel you SHOULD be watching."

Now when he got to the end of his story, I laughed and said that "that is a perfect example of entitlement." What? he asked. "Coming into someone's house, telling them to turn the channel to something else and explaining to them why they should be watching that." Of course, he argued that he was helping her and that she was grateful and as someone with an HD set, she should be watching HD channels. I told him that could very well be the case but to actually tell someone they should be doing anything in their own home takes a certain level of . . . waaait for it . . . entitlement. Hence, the argument commences.

I don't know, maybe I was just reading into it more than I should and I'm sure that the neighbor was appreciative and receptive to his "friendly and helpful" diatribe about the benefits of HD but I just found the story a good example of the naturalness in which men (or at least most of the ones I know) tend to, you know, direct folks around. Now this is not to exclude women, because I know a number of women who will tell someone what they ought to be doing in a heartbeat. But when it comes to men, they have a monopoly on that ish. I have had guys come up to me and tell me that I should walk my dog more (while I'm walking my dog), tell me why I'm single (even though I'm in a relationship) or just explain to me the benefits or disadvantages of something that I never asked them about in the first place. And sometimes it's helpful, but I can't help but to ask myself if I'd ever feel that comfortable saying the same kinds of things in the same exact ways. Like I imagine that, had I given our neighbor the same HD tv tutorial, I would have ended it with, "but at the end of the day, it's about whatever you feel comfortable watching. I just think it looks better on such-and-such channel." and not, "That's what you SHOULD do, heffer!" lol, okay, well he didn't call her a heffer, but...

Another example of that subtle "masculine entitlement thing" would be how much space men take up. For example, it's hard as heck to walk down the street with the man friend because he refuses to budge for people and if our arms are linked, I always have to be the one getting slammed into whoever is coming into our direction. So I end up falling back a little, dipping and dodging because he and the other men who refuse to budge feel entitled to the whole dang sidewalk. I guess it's just in a man's genes and I'm also sure that it comes from centuries and centuries of running ish.

So the car ride got a little hostile when I half jokingly said, "You make me sick!" and the man-friend (half seriously) replied, "You make me sick too, I can't wait to drop your butt off at work!" GASP! How dare he???!!! I had to pull out the last weapon I had. I did what any female would do if their man told them he wants her out of his sight . . . I got a little quiet. "What's wrong?" (pause) "Don't be mad," he said looking over every so often to make sure...I don't know...that my head didn't explode or something. When I get quiet, the man-friend can't bear it. Suckerrrr! lol

Needless to say, I just got a text that says "I love you" so yeah, men may have a sense of entitlement but it's up to a woman to pound that ish into the ground.

Black Thoughts

2010-02-28T06:30:00.001-08:00

So today is the last day of Black History Month and I have had a plethora (I love that word) of things concerning my peeps that I have been wanting to get off of my chest. I guess today is as good a day as any. Here goes . . .

On Black Women Being Single

If I have to see another television special featuring a group of single Black women talking about how Black men have gone extinct, I'm going to kill myself. No, no wait . . . if I have to see a group of Black men talking about how mean and angry all Black women are THEN I'm going to have to kill myself. Guess I'm going to have to kill myself some time this week, because the network I work for will be airing that story in a couple days.

Uplifting the Black Community

The guy that I have been working with (I'll just call him "Mr. Jello PuddingPops" and if you don't know who I'm talking about then ~~kill yourself~~ google it) turned a lot of my people off a couple years ago when he said that the poor folks in the Black community have not been holding up their end of the bargain. The more I work with him and speak to those nearest and dearest to him, the more I have to agree with his message. The other day, I saw a toothless deli worker and a little old man curse each other out at my local grocery store. (She made a mean sandwich, though, let me tell you! Mmmm :-) On that very same day, I'd been informed that my 13 year old niece beat up a classmate and then began to assault her own teacher - who is now pressing charges. And on top of all this, at this very second I am watching a news story about the second child this week to be abandoned somewhere (not counting, of course, the infant that was tossed over a bridge a couple days ago). All of the people that I have mentioned have something in common. They are all Black folks and they are all in the poor community.

As someone who grew up in the projects just like "Mr. JP-Pops," I feel some kind of way about these shenanigans. I was talking to Pop's old homegirl from around the way a couple days ago and she was telling me (actually bragging - and with good reason) about the high standards that she, her sisters and the rest of the neighborhood held themselves to. She talked about the pride they took in keeping their community clean, abiding by strict moral codes and dating only the best of the best. In essence, she was telling me that they were poor (she used the term raggedy, lol) but it didn't define them or any other aspect of their lives. In other words, everything else about them was rich. How beautiful is that? I think that's a wonderful way to think. And it reminds me of the standard in which my family lived by (even though the rest of the neighborhood was a hell-hole). Either way, I can definitely get with Mr. JP-Pop's message, but I still think that the "talented tenth" aren't holding up their end of the bargain either. Donating money isn't the only way to extend charity and the "teach a man to fish" proverb isn't just some quaint little story. It means, you have to get your hands dirty and actually SHOW people how to live right rather than donate money to some random cause and hope never to have to cross paths with another Black person from the lower rungs of society. Just my thoughts.

Yes, We Still Need BHM

Every year I hear (some) people complain that there is no need for Black History Month anymore. I think it will continue to be necessary as long as Black folks continue to make history. Is that confusing? Allow me to explain. Ex: Barack Obama is the first Black president of the United States of America. Some lady at my job is the first Black woman in the history of the (blank) company to hold a specific position as an on-air person. As long as we are breaking boundaries, Black History Month is necessary because in this day and age it's disappointing that we are still even uttering the phrase "the first Black person to . . . " Until we are fifty years out from ever hearing that phrase again, Black History Month is necessary. Again, just my opinion.

Ummm...I think that's all I got. Enjoy your last day of Black History Month everybody!

Auditions (or a Little Thing I'd Like to Call Throwing My Current Friends Under the Bus)

2010-02-27T04:18:00.001-08:00

So whilst watching my new favorite "girlfriend bonding" show Let's Talk About Pep, I felt those similar feelings that have always seemed to dwell in the pits of my...I dunno...loins? bowels? My seasonal wish (and I say seasonal because it comes and goes) craving for a group of gal-friends to brunch with and chat it up with on random Saturday afternoons throughout the month.

All right, lemme grab my box of tissues and find my way over to the leather couch.

Disclaimer: the following stories will have more than a few references to shows like Living Single, Girlfriends, Sex and the City and Let's Talk About Pep so if you've never watched any of those shows I've provided links as help. (Oh, and seek help :-)

*Eh, eh, eh...Ahem* It all started when I was a youngin and Living Single came out. The show (starring Queen Latifah and some other chicks) was about 4 beautiful, single (Black) women living in New York City. At the time that it came out, my 10 year old mind said, "Heyyyy!!! I have 2 sisters and my Mom. That makes 4 of us!" and from that point on I was Maxine from Living Single minus the New York City, the sex, the being grown and being a lawyer part. Either way, we were all living single and nobody was Sinclaire and everything was great and we were in a nineties kind of world and my mom wore a bunch of wigs and then my sister got engaged and preggars while I was away at college and our plan got shot to the fiery pits of hell (and there is a part of me that will never forgive her for that - even though I love those little brats).

Okay, so the show Girlfriends comes out and it's onto plan B. Who wants to live in New York City anyway? I was in college and while I already had girlfriends, they were all in different groups and I couldn't seem to get them all together at once. So in search of sisterhood, I joined a sorority. All of us were young, Black, single and living la college loca. We were going to go to parties together, eat lunch together, go shoe shopping together and date hot guys and just be awesome. We were really going to DO it. Oh, wait...did I say we? What I should have said is that they were really going to do it. I was too broke to do anything and after pledging for a million years, I was left looking like the (homeless, broke, needing a handout, college student) "Lynn" character minus the free ride and lost interest in the show and lost interest in the whole wanting to do the girlfriends thing anyway in the first dang place because who cares and I'm SO OVER IT! (Which then lead to a downward spiral of having nothing but guy friends - who didn't really give 2 craps about me outside of trying to get me naked - but that is for another therapy blog session, my friends). So yeah...foiled again.

Now we're in the post-college days. Picture me...a mid to late twenty something Arnetta Green, working in my professional field, living in a major city with a good amount of girlfriends around the time the Sex and the City movie came out. Too conservative to be Samantha and too liberal to be Charlotte. Too fun to be Miranda and I write a lot so I guess that would make me Carrie. I'm not rich but I can afford to treat some girlfriends to lunch (stop shaking your head man-friend, I could if I wanted to!) but about those impromptu lunches? Yeeeaah (said like guy on office space) that's not gonna happen. You see, you gotsta have time for that kind of thing. And time...I do not have. And it still wouldn't be one of those "girlfriend" situations either because I still can't seem to get more than one girl together at the same time. (And yeah, that probably sounded a bit molester-ish, didn't it?) Either way, the desire was suffocated yet again...until, of course, Let's Talk About Pep comes onto the scene reigniting my teeny weeny wittle wish to have brunch with a group of women (that would actually get along with each other) once or twice a month. Is that asking too much random internet people?? Well, IS IT???!!!

So because my hours suck and my current friends suck and want to be all separate and not randomly go to lunch together, I've decided that I want to put out my own This May Sound Crazy Classified Ad, so here goes . . .

***CHARMING, TWENTY-SOMETHING WOMAN LOOKING FOR 3 PLATONIC GIRLFRIENDS TO HAVE LUNCH DATES WITH ONCE (OR TWICE) A MONTH***

SEEKING A REALLY SEXUALLY REPRESSED FRIEND, A REALLY "SEXUALLY LIBERAL" FRIEND AND A "WILDCARD" FRIEND. I WILL BE THE QUIRKY AND FUNNY, YET GROUNDED FRIEND. ALL WOMEN MUST BE PROFESSIONAL IN SOME WAY, BUT WORK HOURS THAT ALLOW FOR LUNCH AT RANDOM DATES OR TIMES AND HAVE THE ABILITY TO DROP IT LOW OR CUT A BISH IF THEY HAVE TO. MUST BE AVID READERS AND UP TO DATE ON CURRENT EVENTS.

ALSO, MUST BE FRIENDLY, INTERESTING, FUNNY, GROWN AND OPINIONATED BUT NOT OVERLY DOMINATING, ANTAGONIZING, RUTHLESS OR TWO-FACED. ALSO, MUST CONSTANTLY HAVE SOMETHING (INTERESTING) GOING ON IN LIFE.

***THIS DOES NOT MEAN DRAMA*** DRAMA QUEENS, SMOKERS AND ALCOHOLICS NEED NOT APPLY.

I CURRENTLY LIVE IN THE PHILADELPHIA AREA AND WILL BE MOVING TO JAPAN SO THIS TEAM MUST BE ASSEMBLED AND READY TO EXECUTE FIRST LUNCH BY END OF MAY/2011. SEE YOU THEN!

My Own Language

2010-02-24T13:23:00.000-08:00

Now I don't know if this is true of anyone else, but one thing I've always noticed is that if I am around someone (anyone) long enough, we begin to develop our own language. I mean to the point where I can have a whole conversation with someone and no one else will know what the heck I am talking about except that one person. Maybe it's because I grew up as half of a twin-set and you know what they say about twins making up their own language. (Even though with my sister, we didn't exactly make up a language. We just transmitted thought signals. LOL - but seriously . . . we did).

Anyway, since I feel free to say whatever I want to say on my little piece of the blogosphere, I thought I'd share some of the "words" and "secret references" from a few of the languages I have created with friends, family and colleagues over the years.

"Daisy" - (pronounced Day-zee) - mainly, a girl who has no clue that her boyfriend is a freak (bisexual, sexual deviant, whorish or just a plain ole fashioned cheater.)

ex: So I saw Jonathan the other day, hugged up with Daisy.

"Shabadoo" - (pronounced Shah-Bah-Doo) - carry on, continue.

"Conducting a business meeting" - going to the bathroom.

ex: Hold my calls, I'm conducting a business meeting in a couple minutes.

"Taking a call on line 1" - Peeing

"Taking a call on line 2" - Pooping

"The deal went through" - Give the bathroom about 15 minutes.

ex: The merger was a success. The deal went through.

"Peanut butter and jelly" - Great, awesome, wonderful.

ex: That shirt is PB&J!

"Purple Stuff" - a drink of any kind, specifically your favorite drink.

ex: I'm going to get some purple stuff. You want anything?

"Kappa Nu" - any group of people who belong to an elevated professional status, usually getting their job through "butt-kissing," nepotism or some other equally dishonorable avenue.

ex: I'm not a member of Kappa Nu, I'll kick your mother-(expletive) (expletive)!

(This expression was coined one day when a particularly angry man-friend was telling me about his stupid coworkers. He turns me on when he goes into his "hood" rants.)

Well, I'm going to have to cut this short so I can enjoy some ice cream and watch some movies. Keep it classy Sandiego!

My New Favorite Commercial

2010-02-18T13:42:00.000-08:00

and . . . he's (cough, cough) kind of (cough) cute too! lol

Red Beans and Rice Didn't Miss Her

2010-02-16T15:56:00.000-08:00

So as promised, I am posting pictures of my attempt at red beans and rice. I subbed out a few ingredients but all in all I followed Emeril Legasse's recipe to a "T."

And I would show you a picture of the finished result, but it turned out so good that there's none left. Sorry!

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

2010-02-14T14:21:00.000-08:00

My favorite Mermaid with feet, Cecilia has bestowed upon me the prestigious Happy Award. It's my first time receiving an award . . .

The Happy Award

and to be honest, it makes me feel like a real blogger. It's good to know that people are reading my randomness and actually enjoying it. Thank you Cecilia, and it sucks that I can't award you right back because your blog brightens my day too! So as the rules go, I am supposed to list 10 things that make me happy and then award 10 bloggers that make me happy. So let's get started . . .

10 THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY...HAPPY...HAPPY...HAPPY (that's the echo)

#10 - MILK AND COOKIES

Call me a big baby but I totally get "the Cookie Monster." If I'm eating a crunchy cookie like ginger snaps or oreos, I HAVE to dip it into my milk for precisely 4 (Mississippi) seconds and then slurp the milk out of it and CRUNCH. This is a ritual that I must partake of in front of the television while watching something additionally addictive like 24 or Lost. I'm getting happy just thinking about it.

#9 - WORKING IN TELEVISION

I am happy to be a part of something that millions of people see every day. I am happy to be smart enough, competent enough and confident enough to deal with both people and machines, being trusted to ask poignant questions and creative enough to manipulate video in order to tell a story. While I am not always happy with my job, I am happy most of the time. And it beats the heck out of working at The Olive Garden (trust that!).

#8 - CUDDLING

Cuddling is wonderful. I love the feeling of waking up after a long night, wrapped in someone's arms. It really helps that the man-friend is an amazing cuddler and gives me rubs (even while he is sleep). I swear I go to sleep feeling his hands rubbing my back and wake up to the same thing.

#7 - SPRINGTIME

I am a huge fan of Spring anyway, but after the horrible blizzards that have been pounding the East Coast my level of appreciation has skyrocketed straight through the roof. Seeing the birds coming back as the weather gets warmer and watching the grass get greener fills me with joy.

#6 - MY NIECES (and all little girls, really)

I have three nieces. A 6 year old, 4 yr old and 2 yr old. As any proud Aunt, I think they are the brightest, funniest, cutest, most special little girls to ever walk this planet. It breaks my heart when they look at me (with their huge, baby eyeballs) and just thinking about them makes me happy.

#5 - SPIRITUALITY

Today I was physically tired, sleepy, bloated, and in an anti-social mood. I didn't feel like going to work for seven hours (starting at 5 am) and I darn sure didn't feel like going to church right after. Despite all of this, I prayed for strength walked into church, sat down, concentrated on the message and walked out feeling rejuvenated, mentally stimulated and morally challenged. And I always feel this way when I take the time to feed my spirit (whether it be reading the bible, praying, or just going to church and getting encouragement.) Spirituality makes my soul happy.

#4 - MY PUPPY

He's not actually a puppy. He's 2 years old.

George is big, he's smelly, he sheds EVERYWHERE and he has officially turned me into one of those people who is obsessed with dogs. The older he gets, the more I see his personality come out. I've seen him smile, cry, get angry and throw himself down like he's having a temper tantrum, watch TV (he's watching figure skating right now), get scared and try to jump into my lap (like Scooby Doo), outsmart my family, protect smaller dogs and try to cheer me up when I'm sad. Oh, and he also likes to listen to Bob Marley. I love this dog. He makes me happy.

#3 - MUSIC AND DANCING

I love music and I think that dancing is one of the truest expressions of joy. It is one of the few things that give me instant happiness.

#2 - the Man-friend

I've been "seeing" the man-friend in one way or another for over 4 years and I still gush over him as if we've just met. He is the embodiment of the word "gentleman" and has stepped my "dating-game" up by 100%. After him (if there is an after) I can only hope there exists another guy with half the man-friend's charm and poise. And that is real talk. He makes me very happy.

#1 - WINE

I love wine. It's sophisticated, tasty, healthy and just plain sexy. It goes great with good food and good company. It can make any evening feel a tad classier and puts you right to sleep when it's done (just like something else I know. wink! wink! nudge! nudge! High five . . . no? okay). I think I'll have a glass right now!

But not until I list the 10 bloggers that make me happy.

They are . . .

Islandbaby at A Beautiful Recovery

Steph at Not the Oxygen

Mirriam at Black Fire, White Fire

Rebel Mel at A Little Lady's Thug Life

She Bloggs at She Bloggs

J Money at The Typing Makes Me Sound Busy

Her Mommy at Embellish.meant

Blackgirlinmaine at Black Girl In Maine

J Skittle at The Good the Bad & the Semi-Literate

Invisible Woman at Black Cinema at Large

Thank you guys for making my blogging experiences wonderful. Also, a special thanks to Cecilia for giving me the award in the first place. In the words of Simple Jack of Tropic Thunder, "Youuu muh-muh-muh-meh-meh-maaake me haaaappy!"

So I award the Happy Award to the aforementioned bloggers. Please pass it along. :-)

Desperately Trying to Fit It All Into One Post

2010-02-13T01:50:00.000-08:00

So my favorite Mermaid with feet, Cecilia awarded me with a Happy Award and as part of the stipulations I have to list 10 things that make me happy and award 10 other blogs with the "Happy Award" as well. As the over-thinker that I am (and because it's my first award) I'm getting my little list together that I will post tomorrow on Valentine's day. So bear with me.

Also . . .
I'm trying to get my "Betty Crocker" on and tonight I will be making red beans and rice (imagine me saying that with a Carribbean accent while doing my little rendition of the "dutty whine"). Anywho, I'm hoping it turns out well and if it does, I will post pics (no, not of me doing the dutty whine) and the recipe. Sometimes inspiration comes from an innate urge and sometimes it comes from an outward kick in the arse.
My Innate Urge - Me: "Hmm . . . I need to start eating more fiber. Maybe I'll cook something from scratch."
My Outward Kick in the Arse - The manfriend: "Mmmm, the neighber is cooking something and it smells soooo good. I think I'll call her and see if she'll bring me a plate." (DROPS DEAD as he proceeds to call her) :-x

Also . . .
What is up with my man uhh . . . what's his face . . . "waiting on the wooorld to change"??? . . . ummm . . . John Mayer! That's it. LOL Somebody get John Mayer's PR person on the line, please. I'm not even going to get into what he said, but in light of Black History Month I'm going to extend a courtesy to my Caucasian friends and tell yall what not to say/do around this time . . .
- Do NOT, under aaaany circumstances, utter the N word. It doesn't matter what the context is, whether you're trying to be funny, or whether you make a valid point. Just don't do it. Actually it doesn't matter what month it is.
- Do not reference fried chicken, watermelon or collard greens until after the month is over.
- Do not call yourself or any part of your body a "White supremacist" unless you really are or it really is.
There's nothing wrong with not digging the sistahs John Mayer but "White supremacist dick"?? You're a douche-panther (someone who seemed cool at first, but their douchey-ness snuck up on you like a panther) <--use it, love it, live it
Also . . .
Valentine's day is tomorrow. So I'm curious. What's everybody doing? I don't have anything planned (that I know of) but I love stories so if anybody is doing anything or has an interesting story to share about V-day, I'd love to hear it.

That is all!

p.s. Also . . .
Because I'm being random, here's a video with a bunch of random people in it. Enjoy!

Random Thoughts - Why I Would Never Want to be a Celebrity

2010-02-11T07:29:00.001-08:00

So, I work in the entertainment biznazz. The reason I wanted to work in TV/Film was because as a youngster, I wanted to entertain and be the center of attention. My desire to be in the limelight has since waned, and I am more attracted to the idea of pulling the strings from behind the curtain, "Wizard of Oz" style. Although, I don't see celebrities on a regular basis, I have seen my share. And while at times I desire the money, clothes and expensive lifestyle, when I look at these people, whether in person or in pictures, I always have a little bit of pity for them (very little pity - mind you - there are plenty of people with problems way worse than being overly rich and popular). Either way, these are all of the reasons that I appreciate and would take my life (low-income and all) over a celebrity life any day . . .

1. First and foremost, PRIVACY!!! I am one of the most discreet people you will ever meet. I absolutely hate (with a passion) having people up in my koolaid (and don't even know the flavor - I just taught my boss that saying and he LOVES it. Bless his heart! :-). Nothing irks me more than knowing that I cannot defend myself against every vicious rumor that churns it's way through the rumor mill. As your average ~~gorgeous and vivacious~~ person I have to deal with rumors and haters and nosey people enough as it is, but at least when I get on the train every day I'm a nobody. At least I can go out to the store and wear some sweat pants and sneakers or fly out to some island or other and know that nobody gives a crap. I don't have to worry about the whole world finding out about my grocery list or getting secretly taped while I'm doing "the do" (which could be anything from having sex to taking a dump). I will never EVER be jealous of this . . .

(Referring to picture: That is NOT how you're supposed to enjoy Rio!) I love my privacy and I wouldn't trade it for all of the fame in Hollywood.

2. Being folksy and relatable. The idea of working a nine to five job makes me cringe, but it also gives me a rite of passage as an American that allows me to relate to 95% of our culture (who are employed). I can even relate to the unemployed having spent about 30% of my adult life looking for work. I take the train to and from work, I go to the Starbucks (when I can afford it) and buy my little Passion tea, oatmeal and croissant. I complain about taxes. I have goofy (ghetto) relatives. I complain about my belly weight or desire to have these $1200 shoes.

Call me crazy, but sometimes I actually enjoy my little sufferings. My life is not perfect, but I couldn't imagine losing some of the things that make me unique or even some of the things that make me just like everybody else. It's wonderful.

3. Selling Sex. (I'm mainly talking about gratuitous sex) One thing's for sure . . . every sexual act I've done in life, I've done because I really really REEEALLY wanted to and I've done it for free. I didn't have to worry about my mom seeing that 'ish and I also didn't have to worry about the world knowing how much I got paid to do it, either. I think it's a whole different ballgame when someone actually pays you to crawl around in hot oil for a music video, say all kinds of freaky things in your songs, get naked for a magazine or have sex with Billy Bob Thornton for nearly 10 straight minutes. You ever hear a celebrity (singer, actress, etc.) after getting naked for the fifty-leventh time say something like "I'm showing another side of myself" or "I want women to be sexually liberated" and think to yourself, "Yeah, whatever bish." That wouldn't work for me, because it would mess with my obsession with being discreet and it would also bother me to know that in order to sell records/movies/products I gave the world the ONLY THING they haven't had access to and that's "my goodies." Also, there are just some people that I would NOT want fantasizing about me.

*shivers* But I swear I feel like I've seen some celebrities naked more than I've seen myself naked. It gets old. And who wants to be put in the "Been there and seen that naked a million and one times and ooh, look at that new girl that just got naked let's all go oggle her because such-and-such is old news now" category. Not me.

4. The Guilt of the Overly Privileged. Now there's your regular "I'm sorry that I didn't finish my dinner because there's children starving in -insert country here- guilt" and then there's celebrity guilt. You know the "I'm sorry that I'm so stinking rich that I have to find creative ways to waste my money" kind of guilt. They try to make up for it with phrases like "I'm just like everybody else" but who's really buying that ish? Yes, a celebrity may be friendly. They may put their pants on one leg at a time. They may even decide to donate to charities, but when you have that much money, you will always look like this to people . . .

Also they can never erase the fact that they have "people" waiting on them hand and foot every single day, giving them money and free stuff just to show up. Which is kind of an effed up luxury to have when you think about it because so many "regular" people work their butts off, doing important jobs (teachers, city workers, pilots . . . yes, pilots) and struggle to make a living wage. Being that stinking rich is a luxury that carries a lot of guilt with it. A guilt that I will never know. :-)

5. Political Correctness. With the exception of shock jocks, part of being a celebrity (and I mean, a real celebrity) is having to be politically correct all the time. And when you're not, you have to apologize quickly or you'll risk losing sponsors. That's just not my thing.

6. Being Around Douchebags Like I said, I don't see or work with celebrities every day. But during the times that I have worked with them, I couldn't count how many douchebags (and I mean REAL douchebags) I have had to come across. People with bad tempers and bad attitudes who would "go off" because of the most trivial things. Crazy people who somehow get invited/sneak into events and follow everyone around trying to take pictures, making conversation and asking stupid-a$$ questions. People who think they know everything, smack on gum, wear torn jeans and call everyone "Babe" or "Dog."

And the kicker is that most times these are the people with money and influence whether they know someone or whether they are that someone. These are the people that are hanging out in the dressing room, behind the stage, at the cocktail party before the event. They always have some glaringly obvious social defect that makes you wonder how it's possible for anyone to be around them for more than 2 seconds. But for the sake of money, everybody acts like everything is normal. When I am working any event, I always have to do some serious meditating and praying because I never know what kind of insane person I'm going to have to encounter. I am magnet enough for the crazies. The way I see it, at least as a regular person I can limit the amount of time I have to spend with lunatics.

I think that about completes my list for now. Call me crazy, but this is something that runs through my head from time to time, especially when I am reading some of my favorite celebrity gossip blogs.

Toodles!

My Interview

2010-02-09T10:28:00.000-08:00

As most of you know, I had an important interview yesterday. Being that I was interviewing at my current job, with someone that I am all too familiar with, it took a whole lot of the edge off of the process. I'll sum everything up in a series of lists.

Things of Note:
- I thought I was running late and dang near broke my neck trying to get to my job in time. A car almost ran me off the road and I beeped at them and they beeped back aggressively only to find that we were both going to the same place. Thank goodness it wasn't anyone important (that I know of, anyway)

- I got to the interviewer's office at precisely 10am on the dot (the time of my interview).

- The guy who was interviewing me (let's call him Mr. Ford) got there at 10:20 - in other words, 20 minutes late.

- Mr. Ford told me that he was thoroughly disappointed that I didn't apply for the job when it was first posted on the company website. There was a small part of me that actually hoped he was so disappointed he didn't want to give me the job.

- When I asked Mr. Ford any questions about the job, he would answer it as if I already had it. For ex:

Me: Mr. Ford, would I be backing up the other (blanks) or would I be filling in for them on Saturday nights?

Mr. Ford: Well, that's something that I would want you to work out with them. Preferrably, you could alternate shows and . . . (etc, etc, blah, blah, blah)

Now I could be blowing that one out of proportion but it really felt like he was talking about me specifically.

Things I wanted to say during the interview, but couldn't:

- "Okay, let's cut the foreplay. Do I have the job or don't I?"

- "Would you mind if I took a raincheck on this whole thing. Can you interview me in a year?"

After Mr. Ford tells me that my job has had a hiring freeze in effect for the past two years and that's why I haven't been considered for higher positions.
- "Uh . . . why the *BLANK* didn't you tell me that before?!"

How I felt after the interview:

- Relieved and a little Anxious

What I did that night to resolve those conflicting emotions:

- Got drunk

I'm a Jean Jones and the Number 8

2010-02-09T08:17:00.000-08:00

Warning: Kind of a sentimental post!

Just recently I was blessed enough to be able to find my favorite teacher on Facebook. Just wanted to share some background info into the kind of impact that she made on my life.

Part 2

So a couple of days ago, while lolligagging around and getting dressed for work I downloaded "Imma Be" by The Black Eyed Peas on ITunes (don't judge me) and giggled a little thinking about my beloved teacher "Imogene." It's funny how the brain works isn't it? One minute, you're dancing around in your underwear and the next you're sitting in the first seat, second row of your third grade classroom. I remembered that she was 41 when I was 8 years old and calculated that she should be around 59 now. The man-friend asked me why I was smiling (because I guess I should have a serious face on when I'm dancing around in my undies?) and I mentioned Ms. Jones - a name he's heard plenty of times before. I asked him to google her, which he did (spelling the name wrong, of course) and her facebook page came up immediately. Excited, I practically knocked him over trying to get to the computer and sent her a message asking if she remembered me, what she's been up to and practically begging her to be my friend.

By the end of the day, she accepted my friendship and sent me a long letter catching up and asking about what I'm up to. Here is some of what she said . . .

Hi Arnetta!

Of course I remember you!!! You were so little, so imaginative, so intelligent, and a READER! You would challenge me with your questions.Where are you? What are you doing? I just imagined that I would see that you were some sort of artist, or a writer, or an attorney. I dunno, but I know you are doing SOMETHING interesting with your life.

You have changed. You are such a beautiful young lady and all grown up! Where did the time go? I can still see you (in my mind's eye) in my third grade classroom though. Where are your glasses? I love your hair!

The letter brought back so many memories. She told me that she was disabled and had way too many doctor's appointments to try to continue teaching. Knowing the kind of teacher she'd been, I felt it was a tragedy that she wasn't in a classroom somewhere doing what she loved to do. I sent her a letter asking what her ailments were. She sent me back a seven page letter that broke my heart.

Lupus, extreme allergies, IBS, PolyArthritis, Sciatica, Fibromyalgia, Dry Eye Syndrome, partially lost vision, Rheumatoid Arthritis (which she takes chemotherapy treatment in order to prevent from getting worse), tennis elbow and a host of broken bones and weakened joints. She told me about the pain that she's suffered and the loved ones she'd cared for and then lost to the same disabilities. She told me that a little boy and his father on the way to a grocery store (out in the country) stopped by her house at 8am in the morning and the little boy begged her to come back to teaching. "We'll be good," the little boy pleaded. (I think that was when I got up and ran to the bathroom to ~~sob like a baby~~ get some air and try to get through the rest of her letter). She told me about the students that she'd taught coming to her house and visiting her, including a girl who asked Ms. Jones to be the godmother of her child. She told me about her 40th high school reunion, her niece and nephew, her dog Marleigh, her college years, her brother who committed suicide, her hobbies, memories and hopes for the future.

That letter was an emotional rollercoaster for me. It made me wonder why good people have to go through so much. It also gave me a glimpse into the kind of strength and resiliency she has (and that I'd like to have). I remembered the tall, statuesque woman with the big hair and the big smile who looked invincible to me back then. It made me sad to know that if I saw her today, she would not look the same. She would not be in the same pristine condition. With all this, however, the letter was not sad. It was just real. And that was Ms. Jones. Real.

Finding Ms. Jones motivated me to reach out to other teachers that have touched my life. (I found one on facebook 2 days ago but another teacher - who helped me to pay for college - I could not find.) I guess it just really made me realize how rare it is to have a good teacher, especially in a poor school district. I am the first person to complain about bad teachers and I have had my share. Teachers who couldn't care less about their students. Teachers who absolutely hated coming to school every day. Teachers who teased their students, ostracized their students, molested or physically harmed their students, cursed at their students and punished them for no reason whatsoever. Teachers who sabotoged grades or just passed students right along through the school system. But having one teacher that cares really does make all the difference. And it wipes away all of the pain and frustration from the other teachers. (I know I sound like a "The More You Know" promo, but it's sooo true.)

Ms. Jones and I have been corresponding back and forth over the past couple days. We found out that we had a lot in common from joining the same sorority to having the same experiences. I gave her a break yesterday because we both have a tendency to write long letters and I didn't want to wear her poor fingers out. But there's no doubt in my mind that I will be seeing her soon. I plan to make a trip out there in a month or so (if she's comfortable with having company in her condition). With her bold personality, I don't think she'd mind.

I'm a Jean Jones and the Number 8

2010-02-06T08:39:00.001-08:00

Warning: Kind of a sentimental post!

Just recently I was blessed enough to be able to find my favorite teacher on Facebook. Just wanted to share some background info into the kind of impact that she made on my life.

This is Part 1

In 1991 I was 8 years old and starting the third grade. That year, my twin sister was excited to be getting Mrs. Wysocki "the nicest 3rd grade teacher ever." I was stuck with a new teacher. *Mrs. Jones. My mother gave me extra attention that morning, reassuring me that I would have a great day and to tell her everything about my new teacher.

I remember lining up alongside the building with the other children, some who were familiar faces and others who were complete strangers. We filed into the classroom, hung up our jackets and found desks with our names on it. A very tall, brown-skinned Black woman with thick long hair, glasses and a toothy grin, smiled at us as we walked past her and found our seats. I was caught off guard. A Black teacher? A tall, Black woman teacher who wasn't a little old lady like Mrs. Gould or Mrs. Henry? She waited patiently as the last students took their seats and then started speaking to us as if she'd known us for a million years.

"How is everybody today?"

"Gooood," we all said, in that lifeless, well-rehearsed, sing-songy way. Something learned from years of conditioning.

"Well, that's great!" she said, full of life and energy. "My name is Ms. Jones as you already know and I'll tell you a little more about myself. My first name is Imogene." With that, she'd just threw out the first law of being a teacher. (Guarding your first name with your life.)

I'm a jean? I thought to myself. Who would name their child "I'm a jean"?

"Does anyone know how to spell that?" she asked. Silence. "All right, let's give it a try." She started handing out paper and pencils and we all tried to write Imogene. "Sound it out," she chanted quietly as we all thought extra hard and scribbled onto our paper. "Okay, who thinks they've got it?" Almost every hand went up. "Hmmm," she said as she surveyed the classroom, scanning excited eyes and waving hands. "Ooh! ooh! I know, I know!" some kids were saying.

"You . . . Kristina!" she picked a curly-haired, redhead who'd been waving her arms wildly and leaning forward nearly tipping her desk.

"I - M - O - J - E - N" the girl spelled out confidently.

"Noooo, but close," Ms. Jones said. Duh, I thought to myself, you forgot the two A's. Eventually, after several failed attempts, Ms. Imogene Jones wrote her name on the chalkboard and explained that the "G" made the "J" sound. Next, she threw out the second rule of being a teacher. "Can anyone guess how old I am?" she asked. Silence. "Come on, guess," she coached. Even at 8 years old, we knew not to go there. "I'm forty-one years old."

*Gasps all around*

Forty one years old and she's still ALIVE?! "That's right! Forty-one," she said as if answering that question.

A little black boy (with a "gumby" haircut), a long head and poppy eyes raised his hand. "Yes, Detrick."

"Forty-one?!" he said with his scratchy voice, "Ms. Jones, I thought you were twenty-three!"

"Why thank you Detrick! That's very nice of you." Ms. Jones said smiling broadly. Another hand went up. "Yes, Quentray"

"I thought you were twenty-two," the boy said shyly.

"Oh you guys are goood," she laughed out loud. About six more hands shot up and Ms. Jones allowed each student to tell her how ~~old~~ young they thought she was.

And with that it was official. Ms. Jones had won her 3rd grade class over in five minutes. That day, she broke nearly every rule in the teacher's handbook. Not only had we learned her first name and her age, we also learned that she used to be a social worker. She explained to us how she helped children who didn't have good lives at home. She talked to us about going to people's houses and making sure they were being nice to their children. She told us that it hurt her feelings to know that children were having such a hard time and explained to us why she decided to start teaching. Being that my hometown was such a poor district, most of us knew about social workers and broken homes. We were all ears.

As the year progressed, it was this kind of candor and sincerity that earned Ms. Jones the student's trust and respect. She didn't have behavior problems in her classroom. She also didn't have to repeat herself very often. She was firm, but fair and when we did what we were told, we were rewarded with fun activities, interesting stories and her approval which out of all of these things meant the most to us. On Fridays (upon looking back on it, maybe Ms. Jones didn't feel like teachinig on those days, lol) we would take part in some kind of non-academic activity. I remember doing aerobics (Sweatin to the Oldies with Richard Simmons) or learning the "Electric Slide."

It was in Ms. Jone's class that I developed my love for reading. I'd started reading Ramona Quimby Age 8.

Ms. Jones told me that she thought it was wonderful that I loved to read. After that, I read every Beverly Cleary book that existed. After getting back from the library, I couldn't wait to show Ms. Jones the new book that I'd picked out. "This book is about a mouse that rides a motorcycle!" I would tell her excitedly.

"Wow!" She'd say. "You'll have to tell me how that works out for him."

Being that this was my second year wearing glasses and I was a bit "Tomboyish," it seemed like every other day Ms. Jones was helping me to tape up my glasses after recess. (This was back in the days when glasses were plastic . . . aaaand mine happened to be cheap Medicaid glasses, so it didn't take much to snap them in half). When I would get called "four eyes" which I thought was the absolute worst thing in the world, Ms. Jones would give me the same (bad) comeback response that my mom would tell me to use. "Tell them to stop calling you that because it hurts your feelings." She would explain to me that having glasses is not a bad thing at all, because they helped me to see better. "I wear glasses," she'd say with pride and in a little way, that always made me feel better.

I'd like to think that my relationship with Ms. Jones was super-unique but it probably wasn't. She had a way of making every child feel special, as if they were her favorite student in the classroom. Needless to say she was getting called "Mom" by accident on a regular basis. Being 8 years old, I decided, was the best age ever and Ms. Jones was my favorite teacher ever.

And before I knew it, the year was over. I went onto the fourth grade and my twin sister had to repeat the third. Every teacher from that point forward, paled in comparison. In the following years, I would visit Ms. Jones whenever I got a chance. Sometimes, I would see her around the neighborhood. She and my mother had developed a friendly relationship while I was in her class, so they would have long "grown up" conversations about health problems and the school system. Ms. Jones would, of course, keep it light with me asking if I was still reading. "Yes," I would say shyly and tell her about whatever book I'd been working on. After a while, I stopped seeing her as much and then not at all for several years. She'd stopped working for the school system due to some health problems and issues that as a child, I didn't understand. I assumed it had something to do with the long conversations she'd have with my mom.

I found her again, somehow, on Yahoo Instant Messanger when I was in my junior year of high school. I told her about my desire to go to college and different struggles that I was dealing with. We talked for several weeks and then lost touch again. I never forgot her, however, and always maintained my love for reading, my regard for women who wore glasses and my (slight) obsession with the number eight.

*In order to protect people's identities . . . you know the deal. No real names.

Food, Glorious Food!

2010-02-05T13:56:00.000-08:00

It's official. The Master Cleanse is over. I sat down and had a (small) bowl of romaine lettuce covered with granny smith apples, gorgonzola cheese, spiced walnuts and tangy dried cranberries drizzled in italian dressing. Hold on . . . I'm having an orgasm. Ahhh yes!!!

Anywho, I found the gym that I would like to join. Being that we are on the verge of experiencing THE STORM OF THE CENTURY, CENTURY, CENTURY, I won't be able to go until Monday. So until then, I will have to behave myself until I can work it on out. I'm excited and can't wait to get started.

All right, what's going on in my little corner of the world? I have my interview for the ---- job on Monday. For all of you "pro-Japan" people, this does not mean I'm giving up on Japan. I'm just weighing all options and seeing if these folks will make me an offer "I can't refuse." Either way, the man-friend (for his own selfish reasons) hopes that I get this job. My mother is thinking it's a sign from God. Me? I stopped thinking a long time ago.

Ummm . . . what else? Nothing really. Let me get back to watching "Confessions of a Shopaholic." Thank god for instant viewing on Netflix. Some movies should never grace a television screen, lol.

In Case You Didn't Notice . . .

2010-02-04T20:43:00.000-08:00

I've been attempting to fix up the ole' blog (as mentioned in the News Years Resolution post). As someone who is not very computer savvy, I've been poking around in the dark for the past couple of weeks trying to find a layout that fits, a new name that fits and a masthead that will work as well. I haven't had too much luck (or time) until recently.

Today, I plopped myself down in front of the computer and really got to work. So . . . um, what do you think? I likey. :-) My only problem is that the Navigation bar is now gone. I will have to try to figure that one out. I feel like such a loser, LOL. Either way, old Betsey is getting there so please be patient with me.

Thank you!

Arnetta Green

Day 5 and . . .

2010-02-04T15:25:00.000-08:00

. . . I'm still alive. Today has been really busy and exhausting for me, so I don't feel like writing much. And I won't. But I have to honor my statement about blogging every day until this diet is over. Oh, and in honor of the Super Bowl (which the man-friend says he HAS to be able to eat during), my diet will officially end on Saturday. :-) The end.

Have a lovely Thursday folks! (Yeah, I'm a quitter, lol)

Day 4 of the Beyonce Diet and My Stomach Pains are Sasha FIERCE

2010-02-03T09:54:00.000-08:00

It's Day 4. I lost another pound. Still not hungry. But I want to taste food again. Blah, blah, blah.

Now I'm going to get real with you guys. If you don't like conversations about poop, then I suggest you click the little x in the corner of your screen. This is real talk all right? Not pretty. Here goes . . . I have not had any solid food in my stomach for 4 days. On top of this, I have been drinking herbal LAXATIVE tea. You figure it out.

This diet would be a piece of cake if it wasn't for the occasional cramping from the tea. My body has never done good with laxatives but the man-friend is doing just fine and dandy. My only wish is that we had a loud bathroom fan so that I wouldn't have to hear him exploding every morning.

I swear I will never look at Beyonce the same.

Day 3 and I weigh 143 lbs

2010-02-02T11:41:00.000-08:00

Quote of the Day: "Even Georgie's dog food smells good now!" <---The Man-friend

So it's Day 3 of my Master Cleanse diet and shockingly I'm still not really hungry. The lemonade really holds me over and I haven't gotten tired of the taste...yet. I lost 3 lbs and the man friend has lost 7. I'm not mad at him, though. He can stand to lose a few more pounds than I need to. Either way, I'm trudging along even though I have a slight headache (which I get from time to time regardless of being on a diet, so I'm not sweating it.) I've been trying to stay inactive as much as possible. No exercising, no moving around too much. The way I see it, I'm not really taking in any calories so why should I over exert myself when my body will just naturally burn throughout the day? Plus, I'm scared that I might pass out or something could go terribly wrong if I do too much. Either way, that's the update. No six-pack tummy just yet but when I get one, I will be sure to post pictures and put all of you "eaters" to shame!

That was the hater coming out, sorry! :-(

Anywho, one of the things that is helping me to take my mind off of cheeseburgers is . . .

I love me some Tabatha!

Day 2 of the Master Cleanse Diet and Some Other Stuff Too

2010-02-01T09:08:00.000-08:00

Day 2 of the Master Cleanse diet. I had a little headache last night as well as this morning. Also, I've been getting some serious stomach cramps. Still, I drunk my laxative tea and will be drinking my lemonade soon. Fun! Oh, and before I move onto the next subject I really want to say that I'm not hungry, so much as craving certain foods. The lemonade is still tasty, but everything else just looks and smells sooo much tastier. Sidenote: 3 hours of my day yesterday was spent tutoring my former-coworker on some software while she snacked on Tostitos and complained about the spicy salsa and her ex-husband. I wanted to kill myself. Onto more interesting topics . . .

Life Gets Complicated

In order to supplement my (lousy) income, I am working (temporarily) on an award show and got the chance to talk on the phone with "Mr. Huxtable" himself. The great Bill Cosby (and no, he didn't ask me if I wanted any pudding pops, daaaw!) He was delightful, but his involvement in my work puts a whole lot of pressure on me to do a good job.

Since our phone conversation, I've been running around getting things done for a video package I am putting together for him and one of the people I have to interview for the package works at my regular job. So while talking to the woman about the interview, my old manager walks past. To give you some background on the manager, he played a very big part in giving me a chance to actually work at my job in the first place. The lady I was interviewing beckons the guy over and asks him why he didn't come over to speak to us. The manager stands motionless, looking at . . . scratch that . . . grilling me.

"I'm mad at Arnetta," he says with the icey cold stare that he always gives me. He's like the really mean dad that I never wanted. Of course, both me and the lady break into the "whyyyy?" chorus like 2 whining children.

"Because there's a (blank) job open and she didn't even apply for it. Never asked me about it. Nothing."

Then there's silence. He does an about face and walks away. Now I'm going to pause things right there and mention that I have not been able to move up at my current job for over 3 years. I have been at the same part-time, overnight, weekend job for the past 3 years. Let me repeat that . . . OVERNIGHT, WEEKEND . . . 3 YEARS (that should give you an idea of my social life). Any attempt that I've made to move up has been ignored or brushed off. It has been my all time dream to move to a specific position at my job and everyone knows it. People have been lobbying for 5 years to get me to that position with no luck. Now, the job is open.

Problem: I am moving to Japan in May.

The job that he is speaking about has been on the company website for a month. I knew about it, and it hurt my heart to know that it was open, but my mind was already set on Japan so I never even thought about applying. I put so many years of my life going after this position only to be laughed at and told that I would never get it (at such a big company). That it wasn't possible. I was told that I should move to a smaller job market and try working my way up elsewhere. And after years of hearing this, I decided to stop wasting my life working overnight/weekends while everyone around me was getting married, moving up in life, traveling around the world and working interesting jobs.

Either way, I am seriously considering putting my heart on the line (again) and applying for the job. After all of the people I told about my going to Japan . . . after all of the money I spent for passports, documents, and insurance policies . . . after hiring a travel agent . . . after SIGNING A CONTRACT, I am considering not going at all. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about all of the crow I'd have to eat and all of the things I'd have to sacrifice if I end up staying. Of course another problem would be regret. The position would require that I work odd hours (again) and it's still only part time. So while sitting at work on a Saturday morning, will I be kicking myself for not going to Japan?

Downside to Japan

If I take the job in Japan, would I be giving up on a goal that I took 5 years of my life trying to attain? Would all of those years have been for nothing? Would I be burning a bridge?

It all comes down to whether I apply for this job and get it. For all I know, I could just get turned down anyway.

Either way, I have a bunch of crap to sort out. Time to drop off this resume!

(Oh, and Steph over at Not the Oxygen featured my guest post on her blog today, so check it out. Her blog is great and I am honored to be a part of it :-)

Day 1 and I Want Some Baked Macaroni and Cheese

2010-01-31T06:18:00.000-08:00

So this is Day 1 of my Master Cleanse diet. Me and the man-friend (who is also joining me on this endeavour) made the special lemonade last night. It's actually not too bad. It tastes like lemonade (imagine that!). I didn't expect the maple syrup to add that "sugar" tasting flavor to the concoction the way it did. In other words, I expected it to taste like maple-syrupy-lemon water. But no, it tastes like lemonade with a little cayenne pepper in it. Not bad at all. (For now, lol)

Since it's early in the morning, my body's still working on the pizza from last night. The hunger hasn't gotten violent just yet, but I'm sure within a couple of hours, my stomach is going to be doing all kinds of talking. And I'll just muzzle it with this tasty little drink and later tonight some laxative tea. Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting evening. :-/ Either way, the morning weigh-in was 146 lbs. So that's my update!

My Most Superficial Post Ever

2010-01-30T01:39:00.000-08:00

I'll just get straight to the point here . . .

I stepped on the scale yesterday and saw the numbers 1, 4, and 7 (in that order). "Time to take the dog for a walk," I cheerfully said to myself in an attempt to have a more positive outlook on life. You know, get the metabolism popping and the weight dropping (you see what I did there?) Anyway I took Scruffy around the block, got back to the crib and against better judgement, hopped back on the scale. Thinking to myself (like an idiot) . . . hey, I jogged a little near the end of my walk. Maybe I was just a few calories away from dropping a pound. When I looked down, I literally screamed. I'd gained a pound. After getting up early in the morning, walk-jogging and panting in the bitter cold, I weighed more than when I started. So I did what any depressed person would do and made a huge breakfast. After cheese covered scrambled eggs, cream of wheat and pancakes drenched in Aunt Jemima butter syrup, I stepped back on the scale and officially weighed in at 150 lbs. Ah, much better.

POINT TO ALL OF THIS . . .

I want to lose weight and I want to do it now. I want firm abs and thighs that don't rub together. I also don't want to look like I'm 4 months pregnant anymore. I don't want my jeans to have those stretch wrinkles anymore. I want to lose 15 lbs. The ideal weight for my height and body shape has always been 135 lbs. (I'm 5'8) So that's the goal.

PLAN

I'm going to do the Master Cleanse diet (aka the "Beyonce diet"). Over the next few days (starting with tomorrow, hopefully) I will be drinking nothing but a special lemonade concoction and herbal laxative tea. The lemonade will consist of lemons, cayenne pepper and organic maple syrup (sounds gross, but if it does the trick . . .)

I guess the reason that I am going to such extremes is because I need to see results. Call me impatient, call me childish, but nothing would motivate me more than to know that all I have to do is maintain what I've already attained (see what I did there?). The plan, as soon as the diet is over, will be to eat healthy and exercise as much as possible. That will probably be the hard part. Either way, I will be posting every day until I reach my goal weight.

So, yeah. Tomorrow is day 1.

I'm off to get a cheeseburger! :-)

You Live, You Learn

2010-01-27T20:04:00.000-08:00

You ever think back to the person that you used to be in relationships? I did that the other day. I was sitting with the significant other, drinking margaritas at our favorite bar. (The food is meh, but the margaritas are off the hook.) While sitting with him and enjoying each other's company, I started reflecting a little (as I tend to do). I thought about how content I was with my current relationship. I saw how simple and mellow our little impromptu dinner was and then I went into serious flashback mode.

~Flashback~

I remembered when I dated this guy. I was 19 at the time and he was like 26, 27. I was in love with him and gave him anything he wanted. We had sex EVERY day. I picked him up (from his mama's house) in my broke down Ford Contour (until it completely died - and then I'd pick him up in my little Mercury Tracer). I laughed at his bad jokes. I spent my campus dollars, buying him food. We'd argue over retarded 'ish that is hard for me to even begin to explain (or admit) now. He told me that he didn't love me and I really believed that I could convince him he did (by being a better girlfriend).

Then I thought about another relationship where I convinced myself that I was a "friend with benefits" just so that I could be a part of that person's life. Even if we weren't really together, I hoped that maybe one day this person would see how wonderful I was and realize that I was "the woman of his dreams." I remember spending my money and time thinking that there would be a payoff (or the sex - which was absolutely terrible - would get better). At one point, I remember driving up to a Blockbuster Video on a particularly snowy day (to drop off a movie) with the guy in my car. And when we pulled up to the drop box, which was right next to his side of the car, he didn't even budge to get out and drop it in the box. These are all things that I couldn't even imagine putting up with now.

~Back to the bar~

I started to laugh. My man-friend was looking at me and trying to figure out what was so funny. I explained to him that the guys that I used to date would absolutely HATE MY FREAKING GUTS now and we both started laughing. Needless to say, he knew exactly what I was talking about. Back in the day, I was any guy's dream-come-true. Naive, moldable, overly-sweet, in excellent physical shape (which I need to get back to), sexual and willing to take on any challenge in a relationship.

Nowadays, not so much. The same guys that I dated would probably think I was the biggest bitch in heels today. (No pun intended on the "big" part. I've gained some weight, but to the naked eye, I still look "in shape" lol) I haven't had to deal with bull-crap in a long time and I am curious as to how I would respond to it today. I couldn't begin to imagine the dripping sarcasm I would probably have. It makes me chuckle just to think about it.

So, I just sat at my little table with my man-friend, chomping on nachos and talking about life and whatever. And deep inside, I was thanking God for allowing me to gain wisdom and confidence as a person.

Just a little peek into my history

If Helping Haiti is Wrong . . . I Don't Wanna Be Right!

2010-01-14T18:57:00.000-08:00

"On any given day, the one thing you can always count on every time you step foot outside of your home is to have to listen to someone saying something really STUPID." -- My twin sister

She sounds so negative, doesn't she? LOL (But I promise you, she's not. She's just really really blunt and I think this is one of the funniest quotes I've ever heard from her outside of the time we went for a walk early one day and she's tipping her hat to some drunkards out on their porches with "Drunk in the mernin to ye!") Either way, I think about my sister's quote when I step outside of the house and it takes the edge off of some of the things that people say.

Onto the topic at hand. I watched this video on Black Fire, White Fire last week (another blog that I absolutely love).

If you don't feel like watching the video, it's a clip of crazy-butt Keith Olbermann laying out who else but Rush Limbaugh for some ignorant stuff he said and Pat Robertson - who'd said that the earthquake in Haiti was God's payback to the Haitian people for selling their souls to the Devil.

Later on while showing the video to a coworker, she made the comment that yes, maybe it is "those people's" fault that they have been hit by a devastating earthquake and yes, maybe they did indeed sell their souls to the devil in the 19th century. And yes, maybe God is punishing them for that.

Now, I work in media and since this tragedy struck, I have had the misfortune of having to look at hours and hours of footage showing bloody and homeless men, women and children as well as piles and piles of dead bodies (all up close). I am not lying when I tell you that the instant she said that, a blood vessel in my brain must have popped, because I had a migraine for like two straight days afterward.

I asked the girl "if this is divine judgement, then what about the Haitian people who have immigrated to other countries? Does moving to another country mean that they are instantly excused from their sin of selling their soul to the devil?"

She said that she didn't know.

I then asked her "if God wanted all of these people to die, then wouldn't our efforts to try to help them go against his wishes?"

"Oh, of course not!" she said.

At the end of the conversation she gave the answer that I was waiting for . . . . God works in mysterious ways. Ding! Ding! Ding! And there we have it folks!!! As Chris Rock would say, That train is NEVER late!!!

Anyway, this ordeal along with so many other human tragedies has given me yet another reason to reflect on how blessed I am to be born in this country and to live the priveliged life that I have lived. Seeing the victims of that earthquake (who look like people that I know and see every day) living in the streets and having to survive under the worst conditions allows me to know that there is no law that says I have to live a pampered life. I can't afford to take every day for granted or think that it's just "those people"who will experience pain, or try to justify someone else's tragedy by saying that they "deserved it." The only thing I can do is to pray for them and try to help them with hopes that others would do the same for me and mine if - God forbid - a tragedy of that magnitude were to affect me. (Ecc. 9:11 . . . if you don't know it, look it up!)

Either way, if you want to donate generic medical supplies (like bandages, alcohol, aspirin) to Haiti, here is an address along with a list of things that are needed. I chose to post this specific website because personally I like to send supplies as opposed to money (I'm paranoid that way).

Medical Supplies for Haiti

That's it yall! Have a great day. :-)

The Land Before Time

2010-01-11T11:05:00.001-08:00

Last night, I had the pleasure of getting together with my extended family and having a big party with food, gifts and games. Being around my teenaged cousins, however reminded me and my sisters of how old we're getting. This in turn, lead to a conversation about computers back in the day. Like remember when there was just typewriters?

And then word processors came out and that was like "the bomb"? LOL

And then, the next thing you know your classroom got a computer and it was like a HUGE freaking deal? And it looked like this?

And it sat in the back of the classroom and everyone had to take turns using that one computer? And if you wanted to play a game you had to use a floppy disk and it looked like this?

And it was like 8 1/2 inches? And remember the monitor with the big black or blue screen that looked like this?

Or this?

And in order to get your computer to start working you had to type "boot up" or "Windows a/:" or something like that?

And remember when the "mouse" came out? And you were like, "Look I'm moving the little arrow on the screen! Wooow!"

Yeah, you know you remember! lol Sometimes I wonder if I'm really that old or did I just attend a school that was really "behind the times." Probably a little bit of both. Either way, thank goodness for modern technology.