It's Still Happy

So far, so good in the new year. I haven’t hurt anyone physically or emotionally. No one has gotten on my nerves or upset my spirit to the point where I feel I might lose it. That’s a good thing. I’ve been eating healthier and keeping my mind on my goals. I am pleased. I’m still excited about 2014 and what it has waiting for me. I see good things for me and all those around me. I will maintain my positive attitude and continue to spread positivity to everyone I come in contact with as best I can. Everybody wins!

Friend vs. Family

Friend

friend\ˈfrend\

noun

1 a : one attached to another by affection or esteem 

b : acquaintance

2 a : one that is not hostile 

b : one that is of the same nation, party, or group

3 : one that favors or promotes something (as a charity)

4 : a favored companion

Well no wonder. I really thought the definition would be something deeper and more meaningful. I was expecting something like "one who holds a familial bond, without having a blood, genetic or legal bind."  You know how some friends are so close and so special that they feel like family, some times even more so.  I have cousins who live close by but they know nothing about me, nor do I think they care. That's fine with me 'cause I don't even like them anyways. Buncha nosy busy-bodies who only have negative things to say. No words of encouragement, no condolences in times of bereavement. No substance in their nature at all. So I keep them at bay. And away they must stay.

But I digress. Some of my closest friends are more like family to me than my actual family, so I figured that the definition of the word "friend" would have more meaning. Maybe I got the family part wrong. Just because you are related to someone by blood doesn't mean you have an actual connection with them. It just means you're related.

So I guess there is nothing strange after all about caring more for someone who was once a complete stranger, than you care for someone you've known all your life.

Now I don't feel so bad about slamming the door in Aunt Nedra's face. Bet she won't call me fat again.

I'm BAAAAAACK!

Wow, this place has changed since the last time I was here. I know it's been a while, but dang. I, on the other hand, have not changed much at all. Still love to write, (even though you can't tell from the number of entries on this blog [or lack there of - I KNOW!]), same job, same relationship status, same REAL friends. "Real" is in all caps because I've come across a few impostorators.  

I've been used, talked about and stabbed in the back. But then again, who hasn't?  I'm just thankful that I have the wear withal to get over it and move on. But God help those who have wronged me.  Naw. No. You know what, God? Don't help them. Don't even do nuthin'. They shouldn't have been mean to me. HA! Take that you ne'er do wells!

So ANYWAYS, I have found my writing mojo and have vowed to update this place on a regulatory basis.  So if you come here, be prepared. I keep it real and I keep it silly. I keep it real silly. Love it or leave. I will make up words and use them in various sentencial arrangements.  I will write things that some people only think.  But if you come in with an open mind, something tells me you'll be back. Oh you'll be back. In the words of the cuteified Robin Thicke, "I know you want it."  Uh, I know you want it. I'm a good giiiirrl. . . 

Stay tuned. Or. . .logged. . .in. . .whatever. You know what I mean!

A Little Hate on the Side

In the words of Jill Scott:

Hate on me hater
Now or Later
Cause I'm gonna do me
You'll be made baby

So as I come into the office and get on the elevator, I run into a fellow company employee.

I cheerfully say good morning and the greeting is returned. Couple seconds later, she says to me, she says, “You have on a skirt and its COLD?” Then proceeds to shake her head. Apparently she had me mistaken for one of the construction workers across the street and thought that I would be working outside all day today. So I gently reminded her, “Well, it’s not like I work outside.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” she responded.

Listen, lady, just because you are short, fat and apparently low on self esteem, don’t go hatin’ on me. I usually have a very casual appearance, jeans, or slacks and long sleeve tees. So I understand if I caught you by surprise with the skirt, patterned tights and boots. But I look cute and you know it. If you don’t want to admit it, just don’t say anything. Didn’t your mother teach you that?

And if you ARE going to make comments like that, check yourself first, Honey. She had on jeans, a light jacket, no hat or gloves. Yet she was so concerned about my seasonal attire. Funny, ain’t it?

Go ‘head and hate on me, hater
‘Cause I’m not afraid, naw
What I got I paid for
You can hate on me.

Georgia Lottery

Ok so, you heard about the girl in South Fulton who won $72 Million in the Georgia Lottery, right? Well, just in case you haven’t (Evelyn) here’s a quick recap.


This Marcia chick’s boyfriend wanted some chocolate, or so he said (what man all of a sudden has chocolate cravins?). She told him to get a lottery ticket while he was at the store. He just so happened to purchase what turned out to be the winning ticket. So my question is, how does SHE get to claim the money and now begin to plan for her dream wedding since they have now been dating for seven years?

Here’s my theory: dude has seven children by nine different women and doesn’t want them beating down his door to get back child support OR dude is married and doesn’t want his wife to know that he won the money.

With that being said, my prediction is that the way this will play out will be an even bigger story than her winning the lottery. I’m sure Marcia has threatened to tell his wife everything if he doesn’t cooperate with her.

My second question is why would you go on television to tell the world that you are now a millionaire? Now every cousin, aunt, uncle and step-sibling you forgot you had will be knocking on your door and every friend you ever dumped will be hitting you up on FaceBook. And like 77% of all lottery winners, you will be broke again in three years. “A fool and his money are soon parted.”

Evenso, I wish her luck and pray that someone will talk some sense into her and give her some good financial advice. AND good relationship advice, like this: Honey, if he ain’t married you in seven years, he doesn’t want to marry you, period. Good Luck, Marcia.

In Spy a You

What inspires you? Who is your inspiration?  I'll give you a second to think about it.  Don’t take too long, I have stuff to do.

 I'm sure you came up with a couple of different things, but what I hope is at the top of your list is You.

You should be your biggest  inspiration, your own motivation, your best selling story, your own morning glory.

Remember when you were dating that guy and he was at that place with the people and he did that thing?  Remember that? And remember how you left the situation without forcing that thing into his body part that would have made that stuff ooze out of his body? Remember how you didn't do that?  You went home and told yourself you would be fine. Of course there was also alcohol, ice cream, doughnuts, and lots of tissue involved. And you kept using up battery life from talking to friends and family overnight. And you did finally find that old Bible that Aunt Charmaine gave you when you were 7 and you drew pictures in it because you thought Jesus should have boots instead of sandals. But you got through that ordeal. YOU got through that. You were able to get out of bed, go to work, do your job (well ACT like you were doing your job), hold conversations with people you don’t even like and get through your day. You were able to get over the pain and frustration and get on with your life. YOU did that. Not your kids. Not your mom. Not your pastor. They may have helped and encouraged, but you did it. You motivated yourself. You inspired you.

So what’s holding you back now from taking that next step towards what you want to do next?  You. That’s right, you can inspire yourself, or you hold yourself back. It’s all up to you.

By the way, this was all me talking to myself. I need to get off my azz and do what I need to do to get where I want to be. If you have found something that helped you, that’s cool. But I really did this for me. I’ll help you later.

Next, Lex

Who are these people who can afford to give brand new Lexuses (Lexi? Lexesi?) as presents for Christmas? Not a little used Honda or a new Ford, but a Brand New Luxury car. Who are these people, where do they hang out and do they need a friend, daughter, administrator, house keeper or mere acquaintance?  

Quite a few people I know including myself are barely making payments or just living hand-to-mouth like so many others nowadays. And the makers of LEXUS have the nerve to rub into my face the fact that I’m broke. Again. Still.  Really? Thanks for reminding me that I have 10 more payments on a 12 year old car. Thanks for reminding me that I have to splice together two paychecks to pay my mortgage. Thank you for reminding me that I am nowhere near the 10 percent of the people who have 90 percent of the wealth in this country.

Oh yeah, and THANK YOU, Lexus for reminding me that the rate on my credit card just doubled because  I reached my limit and didn't make a payment because I had to use cash to buy gifts for the kids at church whose house burned down last week because they couldn’t afford to keep their heat on and had to use a space heater for warmth, which shorted out and caused the fire, ultimately taking away everything they ever had in life.  Yeah. Thanks.

Honestly, I would think that people who are considering buying a brand new luxury car as a gift would probably not be watching TMZ anyway. Wouldn’t they be at the Vanderpool party sipping spiked eggnog and munching on cookies made with gold dust and diamond butter?

And with the economy the way it is right now, reminding most of us that we can’t even afford what you’re peddling is not too bright of an idea if you ask me, Lexus. But then again, you wouldn’t bother asking me anything anyway, would you?  I’m just a slovenly middle class worker who is just trying to get by. I wouldn’t think about buying your overpriced, poorly disguised Toyota anyway. I would get a Honda. Or a Hyundai. Well, that’s what I have now, so. . .but anyway, it wouldn’t be no Lexus.

So keep your snooty patooty commercials to yourself and let us regular folk continue to dream of our big, hulking overpriced not so luxury SUVs and Cross Countries, uh, Cross Overs. Whatever.  We don’t need no stinking Lexuseses.

Stupid name anyway.