Ranting

***WARNING: The following contains language that may not be suitable for all audiences. Use caution if you have a nosy boss or co-worker that doesn't appreciate foul language.

I have become so fed up with people in my general vicinty that the bitterness was starting to permeate through my veins. I have reached my limit with today's society. People are just out and about, mouth-breathers who lack common sense – roaming free like it's their God-given right to simply exist and do as they please without any regard for society at large. Well, I'm tired of it. Tired, Tired, Tired, Tired, TIRED. But, since I cannot school each and every person that pisses me off each and every day, I decided to take it out on my blog by putting up a little post of instructions. Call it "pheebee's guide to being a decent human being." Before you even read it, I will confess that I am guilty of at least couple of these. The thing is, temporary violations are fine. It's permanent flagrant disregard of these that pisses me off. And with that little preamble, let's begin*.

1. Use a little common damn sense. It's free, and it makes the world a better place. If it would bother you – or a reasonable human being, then it's probably not something you should be doing. Mkay, pumpkin?

2. If you say you're going to call someone back, CALL THEM THE HELL BACK. It's quite simple really. That person is expecting your phone call because YOU said you'd call them back. Now, pick up your phone that I know is always on you, find that person's name, and hit dial/send/call.

3. Don't make up words when you're sending a text. I understand that there are certain abbreviations that are in today's lexicon that everyone understands (“u”, “c”, “ur”, “txt”, “thx” and so on.) But “dis sum bs. Wen r we goin 2 da park?” Is NOT an appropriate text to send if you have some general sense of spelling. I shouldn't have to sound out a damn text message to figure out what in the hell you're saying.

4. Pull up your pants. The 90s have ended. Sagging is out. And while I'm on the subject, stop holding your pants when you walk or run. And dumb chicks? Stop accepting this from the men you're dating. And don't tell me “if you don't like it, don't look at it.” Bitch, I wouldn't have to look at your raggedy ass boxer shorts if they weren't on display. Buy your own damn size pants and belt.

5. Yes you should follow the 90 day rule. Or at least the 9 day rule, damn. Sex is not that serious (But pheebee, you just haven't been doing it right). Shut the hell up. I said it's not that damn serious. Maybe if you weren't giving it up so damn easily men wouldn't be acting a fool now. And boys? That goes for you too. Yeah, we know you're SUCH a stud. Congratulations, you got a bunch of ho's to sleep with you. Oh wait, I'm not that impressed.

6. And while I'm on the subject of ho's. Stop being one. This goes for men AND women. No one likes an STD. And the more roulette you play, the more risk you're putting out there. But moreover to that, the spiritual karma that's being put into this world based on ill-advised sexual conquests are simply leading to unnecessary heartache, pain, and general confusion on the difference between lust and love. I don't give a damn what Jersey Shore (or any other media darling) says...sex is NOT a recreational sport.

7. If you are in the mood to get it on. WEAR A FUCKING CONDOM. You know what? Only about 1% of so-called unplanned pregnancies are unplanned. The rest of them? You planned that shit when you didn't take proper birth control precautions. So you know what? Sucks to be you. Maybe next time you'll wrap it up.

8. If you do run about making babies, then guess what? Raise your damn kids. It's not cute when they're screaming their heads off, running amok, and generally being annoying to the rest of the public. I don't care how tired you are. You brought that little brat into the world, and turned him into a brat because you let him do whatever he wants. So now you have to deal with him. You know who didn't have a hand in that? Me. So do something about it.

9. Furthermore, if you were big and bad enough to bring kids into the world, then pay your damn child support. That is all.

10. If you drive a car. Get insurance. This is not difficult. If you can't afford the car note and the insurance payment, then you can't afford the damn car. Take that Escalade back and get a used Volvo from 1999. Because guess what. I already was unimpressed with your LEASED Escalade and I'm even less impressed when I have to expend the time, money and energy to sue your broke ass and garnish your wages when you hit my car.

11. Grow the hell up and try to do better than your parents. Can someone please explain to me why this isn't a given? I'm not saying pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, because only the ignorant privileged say silly shit like that. I am saying try. For example...when you're in school? Go to class. You have shit else to do. Or, how about this. When you have a job, go to work. Pay your bills – ON TIME. Don't spend your check at the casino. Send it to your landlord because you know what's more important than the slots? A fucking roof over your head.

12. Fellas: do some research on what a date is. And then do some discovery about what courtship is. And then engage in both. If one more dude asks me if I want to “kick it at his crib” when I just met him I am going to scream. And then I am going to say yes. When I get there, I am going to kick HIM in his nuts. I'm pretty sure that will be the last time I get asked that question.

13. Strive to be a part of and expand the Talented Tenth, rather than cutting your eyes at me because I made it into what I'm quickly becoming convinced is the Talented Twenty-Fifth. I'm not saying it was easy to get here, but damn. Try.

14. Manners cost nothing. Use them liberally.

15. Take your narrow behind to your place of worship. Yeah, I said it. Worship. I don't trust your sense of values and moral compass. Go somewhere where the ground rules have already been set. And don't give me this bullshit about “organized religion is out to get you.” You know what? Then find a different house of worship. No one is asking you to follow every single tenet from every single leader. I'm asking you to go somewhere where you'll feel accountable for your actions.

16. Read a damn book. Get a Kindle, a Nook, or how about this – A FUCKING LIBRARY CARD and read something. Anything. Expand your vocabulary. Hey, I didn't say you had to read Jane Eyre. Hell, you can read 50 Shades of Grey for all I care. Just read something.

17. Take your fat ass to the gym and stop eating all that crap. Or don't. Whatever you choose, stop complaining about the body you have and do the work to get the body you want. Most of us are in the same boat. We believe that people who are twitterpeated about living a “healthy lifestyle” are full of shit. You know what? They are. But they feel and look better than the rest of us so do what you can to get as close to that nonsense as possible. Or don't. But whatever you do, make sure it's a conscious decision.

18. If you are in a bitter or bitchy mood, that is totally acceptable. Sometimes you just have a day where you're pissed at the world. But do this...make sure it's not the same shit over and over again ad nauseum. Get the hell over it. A couple weeks, hell a couple months is fine. We all go through some things. But a couple years? Decades? You don't even remember what set you off at that point, and I sure as hell don't because it didn't happen to me. So get the hell over it and move on. Your ignorant silliness is starting to make everyone else miserable.

19. Don't piss on the person trying to help you and be nice to you. Yo. I get it. Sometimes cheeriness and helpfulness and positivity is just making a bad situation worse because you're in that place. But if you are constantly dicksmacking the person who is just trying to be nice, don't be surprised when that shit comes back to bite you. And yes, I meant every single bit of the double entendre there.

20. Don't litter and pick up after yourself. Guess what. “Lawn,” “sidewalk,” and “trash can” all have separate words and meanings because they are different things. Learn to put trash in a damn trash can and not just drop it out of your hand.

21. Control your damn dog. Not everyone thinks Fido is cute. I don't want your dogs paws all over me, and I damn sure don't want to hear all that barking. Turns out, not everyone is a dog person.

22. There are so many more, but I have to wrap it up with this one. Be grateful for the helping hand you get. But do NOT expect a handout just because you asked. You need to put in the work, just like the person you're begging. That person worked hard so they can enjoy their own shit. They didn't work their ass off to help you out.

Is that all? Hell no. But a rant can only go for so long in one post. Spread around at will. The more people that get these messages, the better off we all are.




*These are in no particular order, as they are all equally important.

You don't need Emily Post for this...

Last weekend, I had plans with the hot cop. He had to cancel last minute because of work, but he asked if I was available for the next day. I didn't have any plans, but I was reluctant to make any because I knew the potential for a headache was pretty high since I was getting my hair did. Nonetheless, I still agreed to schedule a meet-up. Well, he ended up standing me up. Normally, this would result in a lot of angry thoughts and text messages involving a few choice words. But my head hurt so damn much from getting a sew-in that I barely noticed he didn't show up. Later, I found out that he didn't show up because he was depressed over the news that he is getting deployed next year. I am not a total bitch, so I was understanding and I felt bad for him. That, and my headache was so bad that had he called, he would have found out that I was planning to cancel on him.

Now, the very next week, AKA on Friday, I asked him if he wanted to hook up after work after I finished up at happy hour with my co-workers. He'd already told me he had the day off, so I knew he was free. He actually agreed. As I was leaving downtown, I asked if he was cancelling on me, as he had done for the past few times we made plans. He then responded to my accusatory text: "No, I'm coming." And that was the last thing I've heard from him. My fault though. At the end of the day, as I've already said, his actions showed he just wasn't that into me. But, I kept attempting to give him the benefit of the doubt for that month, because he kept saying he was sooooo interested and would be switching to a different schedule, allowing for more availability. But, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Given that hot cop and I only went out a grand total of 5 times over the span of 3 months, it's not that big of deal in an individual sense. Hell, I faded him out after the first 2 dates. Dates #3-5 only happened because we had a mutual friend in Jade**. No, the point of this story was for background, in order to give a little lesson to everyone: Standing someone up is never, ever, EVER ok.

It doesn't take a whole lot of common sense* to know that everyone deserves common courtesy. If you decide not to go out with someone, you should tell them (be it a date, a friend, family, anybody!). In this day an age, there is too much available technology to keep someone waiting for more than 15-20 minutes. Anything longer than that requires a call, text, email, carrier pigeon, etc. I mean, really. Even if you're too chicken to actually make that call, you can very easily send a text. "sorry, can't make it today/tonight/this afternoon. something came up." You've still accomplished the blow-off, but you haven't completely wasted the other person's time.

Hey, I understand, sometimes blowing off plans is necessary. Sometimes you don't want to go to the mall. Sometimes, you don't want to endure another boring date. Sometimes you have the worst. headache. ever. For most reasonable people, it's not about the cancellation. We all gotta do it sometimes. It's about the disrespect you've shown by not being able to deign to pick up the damn phone (or carrier pigeon). You are not that special or busy. Show the person you're meeting with that you understand that the world does not, in fact, revolve around you. Just sayin'.

*or a rocket scientist

**Are 3 and 4 even dates? Since the 3 of us were kicking it while she was in town?!

Evidently, I'm psychic...

You know what expression I've grown to hate? "Self-fulfilling prophecy." Do people say this to you? For example:

Me: Damn, my birthday sucked, hard. Top 5 of my worst days of all time.
Them: Well, you were expecting it to be difficult, so maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Internal monologue: Or. It sucked because I spent it alone in my apartment in my rubber duckie pjs.

Me: Whenever I wear this shirt, I always end up with makeup on the collar.
Them: Well, you're expecting to rub makeup off on it, so maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Internal monologue: Or. It has a really tight v-neck and a standing collar without much room to maneuver. Inevitably, whenever I wear it, I forget this fact until after I put it on...also known as too late because I've already slid it down my makeup enhanced natural look.

Me: I've moved to Siberia, and as a result, my social life blows.
Them: Well, you kept saying how far away Siberia was, and how your social life was going to go downhill. Maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Internal monologue: Or. My social life blows because I do not go out as often, because the social scene in Siberia is filled to the brim with hipsters and Siberians...neither of which interest me. And, because the places there are to visit are dive bars. Have you ever seen pheebee in a dive bar, guzzling a beer? No. Because skinny jeans and Kate Spade just don't belong in a dive bar. Neither does bougie. And I? Am all of those things.

Me: Today was just one of those days. People were trying my patience ALL. DAY. LONG.
Them: Well, you always say the people you work with get on your nerves. Maybe today was just a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Internal monologue: Or. People are ace-holes.

Me: That date was terrible. I was so not into him.
Them: Well, you weren't really willing to give that guy a chance, so maybe it was just a self-fulfilling prophecy that the date was bad.
Internal monologue: Or. He was the opposite of my type who asked me to split the check on the first date -- after I wouldn't agree to go to his house to "watch a movie."

Get the idea? This crap makes me want to put on my crazy pants, bunny slippers, and flannel robe, looking all wild-eyed with my hair standing on end, go outside and scream: "No, dammit! It wasn't a self-fulfilling prophecy. I am not psychic!!!!!!!! Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, I was accurately predicting the outcome of the situation, based on past experience?!?!?!!?"

*Ahem*....I get that if you spend your life looking for things that are wrong, you will find them. If you are seeking out flaws and negative energy, it will come to you. A positive outlook does, in fact, change the way you see things. But it doesn't actually change facts. Fact is, if I look at things through a positive lens, I'm less likely to react in a bad way. If a dude is doing the electric slide on my last nerve, then with a positive outlook, I may just brush him off politely. With a negative outlook, I may cuss him out so hard his grandchildren are born half deaf from the ringing in their ears. Either way, he was tap dancing on my last nerve.

I feel like this "self-fulfilling prophecy" junk is just a way for people to put the onus on you to ignore bad situations. Ignoring them don't make them go away. Life isn't always a beach. Sometimes, life's a bitch -- your outlook determines how you deal with either scene. Sure, it's better to put on the rose colored glasses and pat life on the head like a cute little puppy. But sometimes, you need to take life by the collar and call it out for what it is. Sucky. Acknowledge it, and move on. It's not the observation of suckiness that's the problem -- it's what you do to move around the suck.

But hey, if people keep telling me my observations are self-fulfilling prophecy, then let me go ahead and say this. I will be one chick with happiness abound. I will be making good money, created out of a moguldom of things that I love to do. I will be surrounded by amazing friends that are ride or die, and have a hot and doting husband. I speak that into being...now what? Dare somebody to tell me THAT isn't a self-fulfilling prophecy.*

*Has anyone else ever noticed that only the negative things are self-fulfilling prophesies? NO one ever says that positive things are self-fulfilling. Then all of a sudden you're lucky or in the right place at the right time. You know what? Bite me. If I'm stuck with all these bad things that I made happen, then I want credit for the good ones too.

Pretty but smart

Today a Facebook friend posted the following link: http://moms.today.com/_news/2011/08/31/7539556-im-too-pretty-to-do-homework-so-my-brother-has-to-do-it-for-me?fb_ref=.Tl5qAik5Gzg.like&fb_source=other_multiline

For those who aren't going to click on the link, it's an article about a t-shirt that JCP put out for little girls that said "I'm too pretty to do homework, so my brother has to do it for me." I, for one, found the tshirt hilarious. But my Facebook friend (along with others) was appalled. So many people were appalled that JCP quickly pulled the shirt and offered an apology for being offensive. Later, I was discussing the shirt with kae.dea, and I told her how it made me giggle. She pointed out that it is funny for an adult because you're old enough to know that it's meant to be a joke, and that pretty and smart are not mutually exclusive. She also pointed out that little girls begin to decline academically around 4th and 5th grade when they find out it isn't cool to be smart. And this is the point that I could have been knocked over with a feather. What's this nonsense about not being able to be pretty and smart at the same time? Who the hell is teaching this BS?? Ok pause for a second. I'm not living under a rock. I'm totally familiar with the concept of pretty but dumb (useful for boys and girls, frankly.*) But, I've never been made aware of the fact that you can't be pretty AND smart. I definitely missed the memo on this. Grant it, as kae.dea says** my obliviousness to this phenomenon may have something to do with my sassy and smart mother.

When I was growing up, it was a given that I would keep my prettily powdered nose in a book. I would never EVER leave my house lookin' a hot mess, and the only place I'd be headed would be school or an extracurricular activity. It was a given that I'd be a cutie -- my mother had so many outfits that her auntie that babysat me would change my clothes halfway through the day. (She bought all the cute little dresses and bobby socks BEFORE ever knowing what I'd look like). When I was old enough to talk, stand, and point, I started learning to read. When I was old enough to learn and use the concept of charm, Ma entered me in Miss America Princess pageants.***

Later in life, I wasn't on anybody's top 10 list of hot girls in school. (Although that may have had more to do with how beauty was defined where I went to school, rather than how I looked). But goodness knows I still tried to look at least halfway decent and somewhat fashionable. Also? It's not like I went to a school where it was particularly cool to be smart. But, no one made fun of kids for being smart -- it was being smart AND dorky that was the problem. If you were smart and charming, or smart and pretty, or smart and kicked serious Mario Bros/Sonic the Hedgehog ass, you were in. Frankly, anything went when it came to making fun of people. Being too smart, too stupid, ugly, ditzy, wrong race, wrong religion, ANYTHING went. Which is why, it was important to be the total package. Hot, awesome, charming, smart, and having a car. These were the sorts of things that girls needed to be. In my experience, pretty was only enough if the girl put out. But where does that get you other than knocked up?

So, rock on JCP. If a girl starts dumbing down because she thinks that people won't like her, well, I don't blame JCP on that one. Maybe you should've told the little girl that she needs to be a total package. Because all a pretty face really gets you is "in trouble." Side note? Those girls weren't the ones who got engagement rings or flowers sent to them in class either. Seriously, all they got was laid.

*See The Titan, "The Early Days; or The First Time We Dated"

**and I will surely never admit, lest pheebee's mom gets a big head about it

***No, I was NOT a toddler in a tiara. I was a grade-schooler in a tiara. And I got 4th place twice, Most Ticket Sales once, and I won talent and went to Nationals once. And what?

Dear Congress, an open letter

As I'm sure you know, I don't do deep and serious topics. I leave that for news pundits and hipsters. But every once in a while, I am forced to comment based on the shenanigans I see happening in Washington. Of late, I have been disturbed by what's going on in politics these days. So, below is my letter to Congress. For those of you that work in or around DC, feel free to forward to any politician you see on the street. *clears throat*

Dear Congress:

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!? As near as I can tell, I've been paying you to sit on your duff and squabble. I commend you on the diversity of your squabble. You will argue with the other party members, you will argue within the party, and then you'll argue with your constituents who happen to disagree with you. Congratulations on being generally ornery and argumentative. Now, here is your opportunity to explain to me what good that has done. Do it without spin and without rhetoric Don't worry, I'll wait.

Now, let's discuss what you have done over the past 8-10 months. *crickets* You hear that? NOTHING. You haven't done a dagblasted thing and the country is in disrepair as a result of your inaction. As your employer, I am disappointed with the fact that I don't possess the supervisory authority to draft a performance review (and frankly, a subsequent termination letter) for you. Lucky you. If I did, you'd most certainly be on a Performance Improvement Plan with the quickness. The basis of my assessment would be a complete failure to fulfill any of the objectives for which you were hired. Frankly, I've been wholly unimpressed with anything you've done.

For the record, I have voted as a Democrat in each of the elections in which I voted. I've been known to pull the lever for an Independent here and there. But hear this; I vote Democrat because I have no illusions that there is space for me in the Republican party. At the moment (despite your "diversity"), there is no space for an African-American woman with more liabilities than assets. Often, I question whether there is room for a person of color in the Republican party at all -- but that is a thought for another letter. Rather, I admit my recent voting pattern to circumvent the need for you to discount my reactions to your inability to perform by basing it on my "political bias." Look, I don't give two shakes which side of the aisle you're on if you're getting the job done. Which brings me back to my original problem with your performance -- a total failure to achieve ANY of the objectives for which you were hired.

There are 3 things that I suggest you do right now.

First, thank your lucky stars that you don't work in corporate America. I promise you, you would be fired. Second, thank your lucky stars that I don't have enough power to get you fired in the manner that would make me happy. Third, dammit, DO WHAT YOU WERE SENT THERE TO DO. I don't give a hoot if it requires you to work with the other party, sell your house, or give up your effing pension.

Finally, I think you need to give up your salary and several perks. You have done NOTHING to earn them. Do your patriotic duty and give it back to the deficit-laden budget.

Should you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact me.

Very truly yours,
pheebee

P.S. I know Washington is often referred to as "Hollywood for ugly people." That is not an open invitation for you to spend your time getting in front of the cameras on CNN, MSNBC, and Fox. Nor is it a hint that you should be spending your time drafting soundbites. It's actually an insult. What you should be doing is leaving the vapidity that is Hollywood and celebrity and doing your actual job. Which, in case you're confused, is governing. Not getting interviewed. If you want to be a professional interviewee, get a reality show...or run a failed campaign. Mkay? Kthxbye.

Think I'm Cute

Yesterday I was having lunch with a great friend of mine, and I was telling him about a couple girls with whom I generally don’t kick it anymore. His first response? “What is with you and girls not liking you?!!?!” Seriously! That’s a direct quote! Mind you, I hadn’t actually given him the full background or story on why I’m not seeing these chicks anymore, and I certainly didn’t say that it had anything to do with something I did. But, given his reaction, I never did get to complete the story…I needed to know who else doesn’t like me.

I love hearing gossip about myself. Usually, I find it hilarious. I love the inaccuracies, the half-truths, and the (mis)perceptions. Sometimes, it’s a learning moment, because I find out that I’m unintentionally giving off a certain vibe. And hearing about it helps me to correct it. (For instance, did you know I was stuck up in law school? Me neither!!). I’m quite certain that part of the reason my feelings aren’t hurt by the gossip and backbiting is because it hasn’t been particularly salacious gossip, nor has my reputation really been marred by the talking and sniping. My heart goes out to people who have had that problem.

My favorite type of comment -- and here’s where I circle back to my friend’s comment -- is that I “think I’m cute.” Apparently, there’s a group of women with whom I spend nanoseconds of time throughout the year, who are convinced that I “think I’m cute.” Here’s my question: why is this an insult? I mean, call me crazy, but aren’t the people who don’t think they’re cute far more annoying? Nothing will ruin a night quicker than being out with your girl, and having to constantly reassure her that the outfit she picked is cute and she looks great, and blah blah blah. Or, the people that constantly fish for compliments? How exhausting is that?!? And yet, these chicks are adamantly opposed to the fact that I don’t do any of these things. And the real kicker? They’re offended because I wear heels. OMG! A short girl who wears heels on a near constant basis! How dare I?!?!

As a really good girlfriend of mine (the designer) says, “of course I think I’m cute. What else would I think? That I’m hideous? Of course not. That would be ridiculous.” And, I’m going to add to that…because I think I’m cute, I’m going to dress myself accordingly. And since I watch What Not to Wear religiously, and pay attention when Clinton & Stacy are talking, I’m also going to know exactly which outfits to choose, to optimize my cuteness. And finally, to raise the level of fabulosity, I’m going to work on the areas I don’t like. Maybe instead of being all offended by how cute I think I am, why don’t you try looking at yourself in the mirror, and calling yourself the fairest of them all? Honestly? Maybe if you didn’t have your face all screwed up in that sourpuss expression, you’d think you were cute too. Just sayin’.

Turns out I have a lot of friends with thoughts on this subject matter. The Sailor/Officer says that people who are insecure are offended by other’s confidence. (Too bad for them.) My Ex used to say “I’m not conceited, I’m convinced.” Pastor Hannah says “with favor come haters.” To all of them I say, rock on. I am loving that I surround myself by an entire group of people who think they’re cute. If you don’t fall into that category, what on earth are you doing in this circle? Get on our level, mkay? Kthxbye.

Think I’m cute indeed. Funny – it probably wouldn’t bother girls nearly as much if their men didn’t agree. (Ok, that was catty. But it made me smile…)

Racial lenses

Sometimes, you have to stop and think about differences. We all know that life in America is experienced differently depending on your race. (At least I hope we all know that. I hope that everyone reading this is not under some delusion that we've officially reached some post-racial world. If you believe that, please put yourself in a time-out until you have a reality check.) But the idea of how that experience is different can often be a vague and amorphous notion. Sort of like you know that horses are fast, the desert is hot, and Danielle from Real Housewives of NJ is crazy.

Ever since moving to Chicago, my racial awareness has been in overdrive. Part of it, I think, is that I am finally comfortable with my identity; and how I operate as a black woman. Another part of it is the rather sharp division of friendships I've fostered in the city. Much like the city itself, my friendships are completely segregated and always have been. There's the Cashmere Mafia, which was made up entirely of women of color, and the Fantasy Football League, which was made up entirely of white women. That said, it wasn't that these groups of women were unwilling to hang out with one another. Kaia is a testament to that, being that she'd hang out with me with both sets...that said, I suspect this lane changing was more of a result of her being a ride or die chick, who's always down. Anyway, my point is, while most everyone was willing to kick it with whomever, the groups generally remained separate, with divergent interests and tastes in activities. (Which incidentally left me in sometimes awkward positions, but that's a post for another day).

Thanks to this slight (major?) shift in my own perception, I've noticed some of the ways in which black people and white people see things. And, as always, I've decided to share those observations here.

#1. Let's start with an easy one, and one that I didn't come up with. (Thanks to the anonymous website commenter who posted this). Ok, picture it. It's a busy street corner in New York. A cab driver is at the end of his shift, and he just dropped off his last fare. He zooms down the street, in a hurry to get home and get the heck out of his cab. A white guy raises his arm to hail the cab, but the driver keeps going. Likewise, up the street a ways, a black guy raises his arm to hail the same cab, but the driver keeps going. What are their likely reactions? I bet the white guy thinks nothing of it, figuring the cab didn't see him, or some other explanation that has nothing to do with him. The black guy, meanwhile, may be more inclined to believe the cab driver intentionally went by, because he's black. (I'm told that hailing a cab in NYC for a black man can be hit or miss). Now, it's not that the white guy is arrogant, it's just that he hasn't grown up in a society where he's ignored on the basis of who he is. At least, not often enough that it'd be his first thought. Meanwhile, the black man has enough anecdotal evidence and personal experience to justify this reaction. The reality here is that this particular cab driver didn't see either guy -- he was just done for the day.

#2. This one just happened to me at the grocery store. I was in the produce section choosing apples. And in a not-the-brightest-moment left my purse in my cart. I'm smart enough to know better, but I did it anyway. So, as I'm leaning over the apple bin, I sense someone near my cart. I look over my shoulder and see that it's a guy – and promptly adjust myself to be closer to my purse, just in case ol' boy gets froggy. Now, if it had been a black man, I would have felt guilty, because the whole reason I was moving was to protect my purse, and I'd feel bad if he thought I was doing it because of a reaction to
a stereotype -- rather than because I live in a city where people steal things. However, it wasn't a black man. It was some white guy, who when I shifted said "oh no, you're fine." He thought I was shifting because I was politely moving out of his way. At this point, I found myself feeling slight indignation. Look man, everyone isn't here to make your life easier! I'm moving because you're standing too effing close to my purse!!! Why don't you understand that?!!??!! Rather than point this out, I merely reminded myself that this is a situation that racial lenses will change a perception quick and in a hurry. But I admit. I'd feel a whole lot better if just once that guy knew what it was a like for someone to pull their belongings in a little bit closer just because he walked down the street. There, I said it.

So what does all this mean? I have no idea. My thing is, I can see all of these things happening, and I know what my reaction is, but I don't think there is a wrong way or a right way to react to these things. I think what's important is to first observe the differences-- then and only then can we begin to work on solutions.

Under Where?

I have declared war on underwear. I HATE wearing underwear. I'm not the biggest fan of going commando either though. So what's a girl to do?

Who decided underwear was necessary anyway? Seriously, what purpose does it serve (aside from the obvious special time of month)? Here's my thing. Some masochist/woman-hater invented the thong. What kind of sane person walks around with floss between the cheeks not on your head? (Or either set of cheeks for that matter.) Floss belongs between teeth, and no where else.

The alternative is the dreaded VPL -- the visible panty line for those of you fashion backwards. Who decided that visible panty lines were such a fashion faux pas? And, even if wasn't a fashion no-no, do I really have to be bothered with wearing full coverage drawers? Ok, I know that they patterns can be quite adorable, but how adorable is it when nobody sees it, AND they're riding up uncomfortably between aforementioned cheeks? ARGH!

Ok, so the moral of the story. How do we banish underwear forever and ever?

Clash of the Titans

Ok, so before I left for a lesson in history, I was supposed to see the titan. We made plans on Thursday to see each other on Friday. On Friday, he called me on his way to the gym, as usual. He'd gotten off of work early, so I asked him if he was still planning to be ready at 8:30, or if he would be earlier. His response? "Oh, actually, I was planning to watch the Bulls game with D, and so I was thinking about closer to 10:00, 10:30." To which I said, jigga-what?

Let's review the circumstances here. He hadn't seen me in a week. I was going to be out of town for a week. This is the beginning of basketball season. This was a Bulls game against the Cavs. And he's a CELTICS fan. So, basically, I got blown off to watch a non-important, soon-to-be-repeated basketball game with your boy that you see all the time?! Oh h--- naw!

Needless to say, I was really ticked. So, I ignore his text (notice he didn't' call at 830, he texted). Then I ignore his text that came through at 10:30 -- presumably after the game. He finally calls about 15 minutes later, and is all in a tizzy because it's not like me to ignore his text messages. So I tell him I was far too angry to answer his text messages for the aforementioned reasons. So he starts playing the victim, which only serves to make me more angry. He says that D was going through some things, and having problems, and needed a friend, and he was just being a good friend, but he guesses that he "was being punished for being a good friend". So I say, you didn't tell me ANY of this before. All I was told was that he was going to watch a stupid basketball game. Had I known, I may have been more flexible. His response? That he didn't know how bad it was until he got there. This, of course, only served to prove my point that he was only going to watch a basketball game that had no importance.

*Sigh*. He's making it so hard to keep him on the island. I really want to. When he's around, he's an exceptionally nice guy and fun to be around. But I don't know how much longer I can handle his laziness. I keep telling people that I'm not sure it's fair of me to vote him off the island without giving him an opportunity to remedy the situation. And I figure he isn't used to girls wanting more from him than looking pretty and showing up. But, I've always been one to say that it doesn't say Coach on my jacket. I'm pretty sure it still doesn't, but I did just buy a new coat. Maybe it's there...?

Sad and Exasperated

As the It Girl, I was awarded a fabulous gift certificate for a pricey romantic dinner at a local restaurant. The certificate expires in 18 days. I have to find a love interest in 18 days. This, my friends, is what sucks about my life. I have no one to take to this dinner. Wait, let me rephrase. I have a variety of friends who would be willing to go. SiQ may be in town by then, and Kaia is always down to go out. But, I tire of constantly taking women where I should be taking men. Just once, I'd like to have a nice boy to do things with.

Sure, I asked Snowflake. But he, not surprisingly, has flaked. Actually, he has permanently flaked. As it turns out, he's come to the conclusion that he's not getting any from me (some people are slower than others). So, he's pretty much stopped returning my phone calls, and mostly blowing me off. Believe it or not, I'm less bothered by that than the fact that I can't invite him to places as a backup date.

And, there's always the Ninja, but as he's ticked me off for the for real, honestly, no more pretend, actually and truly last time, I can't ask him. And there's the guy who is aiding me raise my sketchiness quotient. I could take him, but he wouldn't properly appreciate it. AND, I'm positive he would read more into it than the intent. And, before you ask, yes I asked the soon to be only a mere visitor on the island, IM Boyf. And he said he'd go. But I don't think he'll make it to the Chi before the expiration date.

So what have we learned? I do not get the playette of the year award after all.

Cheap Shots

Here's what I don't understand. Why are people (aka self-righteous - extremist - conservatives) throwing around Barack Obama's middle name? (It's Hussein if you didn't already know). I mean really, to be eligible for the presidency, you must be at least 35 years old. Which, would mean, Mr. Obama would've been born at least 33 years prior to middle America hating Saddam not-related-to-Obama Hussein. Therefore, are you implying that all of middle America is too stupid to realize that Hussein is a common name in more than one country? OR are you implying that every person with the same name is of the same caliber of person, same religion, same personality, etc.? If the latter is the case, then I feel sorry for all of y'all named John (John Wayne Gacy), Charles (Charles Manson), Aileen (Aileen Wuornos)....well you get the idea.

Time flies

So, I just discovered that I am woefully behind on the blogging. But really it's because not much has happened recently. Lately, I've been having a crisis a day, but nothing worth writing because they are neither big nor hilarious. But here's a quick rundown anyway:

1. My parents are driving me nuts. Seriously up the wall, climb a bell tower, and start shooting crazy. I will officially go on record and say that for the first time EVER, I wish I wasn't an only child. Arrgh!

2. I'm still waiting for the kitty-fund to grow enough that I can afford cat-man-doo. (No, I won't really name him/her that. Yeesh! Have some faith!)

3. If I don't get an interview for a new job soon, I may get back up on the bell tower. Just sayin'.

4. I keep waffling on whether or not I should take on the debt of a mortgage in LP. I mean, I know I can't really afford what I want...but is it better to pay rent for another 3 years (to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars making a swoosh! sound as they get flushed?)? Or, is it better to buy something less than what I want, take the tax write-off, and sell in 5 years? I have no idea. But I know that my current salary puts me below the lines needed to get special lower middle class loans.

So those are my crises. Not major right? Yeah, I know. I tried to warn you. But nooooo you refused to listen. so you get a post full of non-exciting chatter. :}

Gross

There are a million ways to get grossed out. My particular rant of the day is smoking. Smoking is a truly repugnant habit. This is not a post to preach about the dangers of smoking. This is a post about how smelly and disgusting it is. When I was walking home today, I was stuck behind a guy who was sucking on his carcinogen stick. The smoke kept wafting backwards, the ash were floating on the breeze. Ack! It was disgusting.

And don't even get me started on smoking in bars. I know that smoking and drinking go hand in hand. Tons of people say that smoking enhances the buzz. I've even been known to partake in a drag or two -- but I didn't inhale. No really! I was just fascinated with the Smokin' Up tour at the time, and so I'd take a drag and blow it outwards and upwards without actually getting any smoke in my lungs. It did look cool, but my smoker-friends would yell at me: "You're wasting a perfectly good cigarette!" Anyway, none of this condones allowing smoking in bars. It's bad enough that you come home all sweaty from shakin' that groove thang. Do we really need to compound the situation by adding the revolting smell of stale cigarette smoke. The smoke is far worse anyway, it actually gets in your hair. Gah!

That's it. Smokers are soooooo very evicted from my island. How'd they get on my island anyway?

I feel fat...and other rantings

The thing about fat days, is that they aren't necessarily related to the actual size of the person who is experiencing the fat day. So, even tho I wear the size I wear (on the small side) I feel like a ginormo. I can feel my big fat thighs rubbing together, just below my big pregnancy sized stomach. And I've recently begun to lose all tone in my arms. Goo. That's what I am. Goo.

I am also upset about my job and the infamous corporate game. I hate the corporate game. And, furthermore, I hate living in near-constant fear that I'm risking my job over every little thing I do. Oh, you told a jackass attorney (who isn't your boss) that he was being a jackass (politely). You might get fired. Oooh, you told them to take their alleged diversity goal and shove it (also politely). You might get fired. Ooh, you don't ask how high everytime someone says jump. You might get fired. I HATE this game. And I hate it because it's such nonsense. And yet there is no way out. It's either this or not have a job. I knew I'd end up saying this -- but I miss retail. Too bad my old job wouldn't pay the bills. I wish I could be happy living with my parents forever. I'd move back home and go back to working at V.S.

In completely unrelated news, I saw a grown woman wearing a one-piece catsuit this morning. She was resplendent in her black synthetic fiber suit, with belt and zipper. Oy. She had to be older than me, but not inappropriately old to be wearing it. I can't even say she didn't have the body for it. But, honestly, who the hell puts one of those on in 2007 -- at 8 a.m. no less!! It was pretty appalling.