Why

I don’t normally post mess like this, but all I can ask is Why Foxy? Why do you insist upon assaulting my eyes?

Michael Phe.lps wants his goggles back. This is what happens when the money stops. *sigh*

Have a good holiday weekend!

Shut Up.

I’m not usually one to write about politics. Sure, I have my opinions but there are enough political blogs around the innernets so I don’t usually bother to go there. But earlier this week on my way home from work, I heard something that made my blood boil.

I was listening to a radio show and someone called in ANGRY and got to talking about how Obama doesn’t represent him (the caller was a black man), and doesn’t qualify as a black man because of his lineage (white mom, Kenyan dad, etc etc) and doesn’t “speak” to the average hood dweller. He went on to call the man a closet racist, etc and explaining that his preference for ”open” racists over “closet” racists. He was all riled up and spitting all kinds of vitriol. When asked what he’s doing to make things better he replied, “surviving”. Okay sure, I know life in the hood is rough so there’s a lot of surviving going on. But when he was asked if he’ll be voting for Obama or McCain, he responded with something to the effect of “I don’t vote. That’s for yall…”

The radio host summed it up in 2 words that I’ll use again… SHUT UP. Nothing makes me angrier than to here someone complaining about their situation, but doing nothing to improve it. It’s not a matter of Democrat vs. Republican, because frankly I don’t give a damn who you vote for as long as you get your dusty butt up and vote. Even if you feel that you’d simply be voting for the lesser of two evils, you need to exercise that right in order to make your voice heard. Based upon his fiery call, I am 99.99% sure that he’s not out in the community centers mentoring, or getting it together to run for office himself, or even just being a good role model.

When I hear mess like that, it becomes clear to me why so often black people are written off. A lot of us (not all of us by any stretch of the imagination, so don’t blast me) are so good at complaining about and grousing over our situations, but don’t use the resources available to change things. It’s always “the gov’t doesn’t want to help us out, blah blah blah” but when election day arrives, no one shows up to the polls. In case we missed it, that’s how we make changes…we have to speak with our votes. In my eyes, until you vote, you can’t complain. SHUT UP. Point blank. Sometimes you have to be the change you wish to see in the world. Bitchin’ without backup doesn’t get you anywhere. If you want people to take you seriously, you have to do serious things and honor your responsibilities as a citizen. Vote, try to be a model citizen, talk to the kids, be a mentor. Until you do those things, your complaining means nothing. We’ve got to do better. *sigh*

/end vent session

Back to Life…Back to Reality…

I kind of feel like a kid going back to school after summer vacation. I’m back to work and putting my usual effort into it. Between the months of May-September, my mind is on relax. I can’t focus at work, I go on vacation, and my blogging decreases. Seeing as the youngins around here are enjoying their first week back to school, and I just came back from my last vacation until December it sounds about right.

Anyway, we went to Savannah for a quickie vacation. We actually were down there because his sister was graduating from US Marine Corps bootcamp at Parris Island, SC. We could have stayed in Hilton Head, but neither of us like it too much there, so we stayed a few more miles away just over the border in GA. It was absolutely beautiful, and just the vacation I needed. That damned Tropical Storm F.ay rained us out for a day and a half, but we managed to get good weather before and after the nastiness. We stayed a few extra days after the fam came and left for the graduation, taking our newly minted Marine with them. I’m so proud of you girl. GI Jane in the flesh. *sniff* *wipes tear*

I’ve been down south maaany times before, but this time I noticed chicks staring at my hair. I’ve got twists in my hair right now with some blonde streaks and I kept getting stares from girls like they’d never seen that before. The dudes all seemed to have the same hair that I have, but the girls….naw…lots of gel-plastered buns and stringy ponytail pieces. Not the hotness. Making me feel like I look like a baby lion or something with my cute little blonde bushy twists. One chick looked all envious and kept patting her hair while she stared at mine. Boo boo, go to the African shop up the street, I promise they will hook you up mmmk?

Also, while we were there we saw some mess that just wouldn’t fly up here. We stopped in a WallyWorld to get a few things (yep, your girl forgot her toothbrush and I REFUSE to use the ones they hand out in plastic at hotels) and we came across this display:

Why is the bear all happy to be the representative of a brand called “Bimbo”? That shit just aint right. Is that the bootleg version of the Pillsbu.ry doughboy? It’s all up in the middle of the Wa.l-Ma.rt Supercenter food section just like that’s normal. I don’t care if it’s not an American brand…that ish still says “Bimbo”. What if the kiddies walk by and see the cute bear then go to their mamas and say, “Mommy, I want some Bimbo?”. How the hell does that look? Big boo and thumbs down to the piss poor quality control.

Other than that, we had a great time and spent a whole lot of time doing this:

(that’s D snatching back the Z’s with an xtra small pillow over his face for good measure)

The hotel we stayed in has those memory foam mattresses. We thought we died and went to heaven, that thing was soooo comfortable. I’m bout to change my registry and put a Tempurpedic mattress as the only thing I want. I was already in love with sleep before I laid on that thing, but now…*sigh* *swoons*. Yeah, it’s like that.

Back now I’m back. Back from summer vacation looking sadly at the calendar counting down till December.

Vacation

Hey yall, I’m not dead. I’m on vacation…again! I’ll be in Savannah, GA until Saturday and then it’s back to the plantation and the daily grind. Have a good week!

The Best Things Are Free

Yesterday I took the day off from work because I was feeling a little ‘blah’—not really sick, but not great either. I knew I’d be doing fine by lunchtime, but I haven’t taken a day off in forever so I said what the hell, turned off the alarm clock, and went back to sleep. Given D’s work schedule, he’s always home during the day but yesterday was his day off so it was nice to have an extra whole day with him.

 

We turned the phones off, went out to breakfast and lunch, took a long walk outside, and watched the Olympics on TV. No schedule, no phone calls, no work related conversation. The day was just perfect, and a reminder that happiness comes from the simplest things.

 

“Tasha, do you see it? With us 1+1=3. Together, we’re much more than we are when we’re apart”

 

Yes D, I see it.

Speechless

First it was Bernie Mac, now Isaac Hayes has died. I’m a big fan of old school music and from first listen, I immediately took a liking to Hayes’ music. There was just something different about his vibe that I loved. Again I’m left speechless. This weekend has definitely been a reminder to me that I need to be vigilant about my health and that I also need to be protective and nurturing of the relationships I have with people. I really don’t know if tomorrow or the next hour is promised to me.

Prayers and good wishes to the Hayes family. Hope his eternal rest is filled with great music. Rest in peace.

Damn Damn Damn!!

I know it’s all over the internets by now, but Bernie Mac has died. He was only 50 years old, and had been recently hospitalized with pneumonia. I’m at a loss for words since he was one of my favorite comedians. Another good one gone. This has been a rough year in the death count…Tim Ru.ssert, George Carl.in, Tony Sn.ow, now Bernie. Wow.

Prayers to the Mac family. Rest in peace, bruh.

Missing!

MISSING

My mind.

 

Last seen sometime in July with my last nerve (someone got on it and it vanished). May be caught up in the enormous stack of stuff in my inbox at work, might be taking an early vacation. All I know is I’ve lost my damn mind and I can’t get it together.

 

If you see my mind, please detain it and let it know I’m looking for it.

 

 

Food For Thought

Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t get up with the community food at work. You know, when someone brings some ish from home and leaves it on the break room table for everyone to share. I need some kind of certification that that ish won’t give me rot gut or something.  The only way I’ll eat from an office pot luck lunch is if the food arrived at the function in a sealed box that was opened in front of me—basically it needs to come straight from the grocery store, or it better be delivery. Otherwise ya girl ain’t eatin it. Nope. I’ll stick with what I brought thankyouverymuch.

 

One of my NAOWL co workers has brought tomatoes from her garden every day for the last week and a half or so, expecting people to rush over and start making salads and what not. The *ahem* others keep falling for the okie doke, but I know better. I don’t know what kind of environment people bring this mess from. One lady who brings stuff in all the time tells everyone about her 6 or 7 cats and how they have free reign all over her house and they walk on the stove sometimes. Now really, how do you put it together in your head that people will want to eat the food that you cook knowing that Fluffy and Tabby have tracked their cat business all over your counters and stove?

 

There’s been an outbreak of some kind of stomach bug for the last couple weeks, and people can’t seem to understand why. Me and the other sane people haven’t eaten any of the shared food, and we’re fine. About the random tomatoes, people keep saying “Noooo, those couldn’t have made me sick. They were grown right out of her garden. Right out of a natural garden. Nooooo. Those aren’t tainted. She uses Mirac.le Gr.o…”

 

But yall, this is what she brought in, and what most of her tomatoes have looked like:

Hell to the nawl. I’m not messing with it.