My New Favorite Commercial

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

Red Beans and Rice Didn't Miss Her

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

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

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

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

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

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.