Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Brownie Conversation

Today I decided to bake my famous homemade Hershey Brownies. I sent out a mass text to all my cousins in the area. The first responder was J'von. He's my 16 year old cousin who is skinny as I don't know what but eats everything in his path. This was our conversation.

Mass Text: Making brownies!!!

J'von: On my way!!!

Me: The ingredients aren't mixed together yet. But you could go buy me some sticks of butter and I'll make some blondes too.

J'von: All of a sudden I'm not hungry anymore.

Me: Blah! I'm sticking with the brownies.

J'von: That's what I thought (:

Me: Don't make me merk you.

J'von: Merk? Is that the new lingo these days?

Me: Lil Wayne used to say merk. Short for murder. Lol! Dang. That sounds bad. Ok ok. Don't make me bear hug you.

J'von: Naw naw naw. Bear hugs are Marie's move.

Me: Pinch yo but! Ha!

J'von: Can't reach :O

Me: Pssssssh chiiii! Yeah I can.

J'von: I can't even see ma butt! Get it right.

Me: Lol! Dummy.

J'von: I know what you are but what am I?

Me: Unicorns and glitter.

J'von: KRISSY!!!!

Me: What?!

J'vaon: Call 1-800-LAW-YERS! BLAAAH.

Little back story: 1-800-LAW-YERS is an annoying day time commercial that plays all the time. On Thanksgiving I had the jingle stuck in my head and I kept singing it to everybody. A few hours later my nut of a cousin J'von made a game out of it. The rule was: if someone called your name and you responded with "What?" you got 1-800-LAW-YERS shouted in your face. So here it is four weeks after Thanksgiving and this guy gets me when my guard is down. 

Me: I don't like you.

J'von: Just mad cause I got cha!!!

Me: Sho is, Foo'.

J'von: I'm da man.

Me: In the words of Marie, pssssh chiiii!
Marie is his 11 year old sister I always blog about.

J'von: Wow!

J'von: So...You make deliveries?

Me: Hell no.

Me: $5 delivery fee.

J'von: Well then. What kind of service is this!

J'von: Family discount?

Me: Who said this was a service? I supply the goods. You drive to get it. Done.

J'von: That wasn't in the contract.

Me: J'von.

J'von: Krissy :D

Me: Call 1-800-LAW-YERS! Berrrrrm! Nah! :)

J'von: I didn't say "What?"

Me: The rules have changed, my friend.

J'von: No!!!

Mass text (with picture included): I present to you...but its hot. So its technically not ready so. Um. Yeah.

J'von: :(

Me: Whaaaat? Come and get it, Narrow.
That's what I call him

J'von: Yeah. No car!!!

Me: Your mom is picking some up after work.

J'von: That's at midnight.

Me: Well dang.

J'von: Yup. Lemmie borrow $2,000.

Me: Negro, please! I wish I did have that much to give.
What's wrong with these kids these days?

J'von: Darn.

Me: I have a Ziplock bag with three brownies for you and your parents

J'von: Okay. Niiiiice!!!

I see I'mma have to bake more often.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Blessing in Disguise

It starts as a search. Then in an instant, a photo reaches out to you as if grabbing you by your shirt collar to reel you in. And just like that, an attraction starts. The attraction runs so deep that you can barley stay afloat. You spend minutes trying to come up with the right words to say but you come up short. You recalculate your plan because your gut tells you this is the right person for you. You become nervous. Your hands sweat. Your heart pounds. You second guess, then in a "click" it's all over. You feel like your life has ended. Time passes. Then, finally, the moment you've been praying for. You realize your reaching out wasn't in vein. Your love interest replies and suddenly you're no longer in control. The attraction is mutual and you're both along for the ride. Where it stops? No one knows. But you both know you want to ride side by side with this person through and through.  

It started as a simple search and lead to the greatest everlasting love of all. 

I love you, Amare! None of this would be possible if you hadn't found me.  

Take chances. You'll never know where you'd end up.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Santa is a Liar

Elijah said, "Santa is a liar" because he didn't get his Nintendo DS last year. 

So, this is what I told him, "First off, Santa is a she named Smama Claus and she's black. The reason you didn't get your DS is 'cause Smama didn't send her check from last Christmas and her credit card was declined and the elves went on strike 'cause Smama don't got the money to pay them for making the toys! So when Smama sends her check or her credit card clears then you'll get your DS. Oh and by the way, Santa don't want no milk and cookies...I mean Smama Claus 'cause she black. So she told me to tell y'all to leave her some chicken and hot sauce wit a few pieces of wheat bread. She lactose intolerant. So give her a Coke and keep the milk! The end."

I found this on one of my friends Facebook statuses. It was too funny not to turn into a blog post. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

Long Distance Relationships Don't Work Part. 2

I've said this before and I'll say it again. Long distance relationships do not work! I don't care how many ways you slice it or dice it. No matter what, the distance will defeat you and you'll be left broken hearted and regretful.

In the span of three years I found myself in seven long distant relationships and coincidentally, they were all with someone from Detroit, Michigan. My first long distant experience happened by default. His name is Kimani (KEY-mon-knee). We met a few weeks prior to me moving to Arizona, so only naturally our relationship carried over seven State lines. That long distant relationship lasted roughly a month. We both came to the same realization that the situation we were in was completely unfair to us both so we agreed to remain as friends. Kimani continues to be a solid foundation in my life. He's one of the bestest friends anyone could have could have.

My last long distant relationship didn't end so well. Despite our fall out, he will have a permeant spot in my heart. My long distant heart throb goes by the alias Kenny. You may have heard of him. I've only written 12 blog posts about him. The bond we shared was instant. Out of this world most would say! He was truly remarkable. I'd doubt if I'd ever encounter someone with the same par as him. I never wanted to jump into another long distance relationship because I knew what it did to both people involved. I didn't want to go through that pain again, let alone with him. But as Kenny would have it, he wanted to experience it considering how he's never been in one. I gave in and both of our lives were forever changed. Nine months later, this wonderful fantastic thing we called love blew up in our faces and we aren't even talking anymore. Bummer.

My five other long distance relationships didn't end so well either. There were a lot of big fall outs that involved being cursed out, being deleted from Facebook, being Blocked on Facebook, being erased from phone contacts, having an erased text message history, deleting of pictures, and deleted from email/IM (Instant Message). And that was only from my end. I'm an emotional creature. I never let any relationship go without a fight. After the dust settled, I've managed to get in contact and stay in contact with 5 out of 7 of my dudes. That's roughly 83%. Honestly, I'd like to up that number to 90% because I'm too lazy to hold a grudge and I really do consider one of my dudes to be a very close friend. The last 17% can kick rocks. I didn't know him from a can of paint. But, only time would tell with him. Hopefully he will come around. And, yes, I'm talking about you, Kenny. I know you're reading this.

I'm sure my relationship with these dudes would've lasted a hell of a lot longer, on top of these some of these relationships not even happening if I stayed in Michigan.

For now on, I'm sticking to my local dudes. No more dating across the State lines. It causes nothing but grief and insanity.  

To read the original Long Distance Relationships Don't Work click on the link.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Black Friday (Original post date November 29, 2008)

Black Friday. The most popular shopping day of the year. After the mass of the population are done stuffing themselves with turkey and dressing, they rush out into the cold on this ridiculous journey to take their places in front of their favorite retail store with intentions of shoppin' till they drop! I ask myself, "All this for Christmas? Really?" What you hardly hear is the story from the other side; the employee side. Here is what I dug up from my MySpace archive. 


Black Friday

Date: November 29, 2008
Time: Afternoon
Location: Target Greatland in Chandler, Arizona

I geared up. Put on my red shirt and Khaki pants, black Air Force Ones, made sure my name tag was in place, secured my N.Y.C Strawberry lip gloss in my pocket, and I was ready to go one on one with Black Friday.

No matter how much I mentally prepared myself for this day, no matter how much I played my past retail experience to workin' on Black Friday over and over in my head, nothin' could prepare me for what I had to work through today.

Everybody and they mama was up at my job today. At any given moment, someone was always an inch away from me. And that ain’t even the worse part. The worse part of it all was that I felt empty. I felt empty because I didn't have my Walkie, Electronics keys for the lock ups, or a *PDA. The reason for me not havin' my equipment was because we only have thirty six Walkie's and thirty six PDA's. And on top of that, there are only four sets of Electronics keys. Two hundred Target employees on staff, six of us were scheduled in Electronics, you do the math. That's right. It doesn't add up.

I really didn't think I had a fighting chance. My scheduled Black Friday assigned area was E12 through E24. That's the entire length of Electronics. The popular lock up items are Play Station/Play Station games, XBOX 360/XBOX 360 games, Nintendo DS/Nintendo DS games, Wii/Wii games, iPod's and Zunes. And it's only natural that I have the keys and a PDA on hand since those items were all in my area. I was walkin' around lookin' all pitiful thinkin' to myself, "How in the world am I gonna get through the day without my Walkie, PDA, and keys?” I don't know how I did it. But I got it done. I hustled for my equipment and NO ONE seen it coming. Hell! Neither did I.

My work day started at 11:30 AM. I walked on to the sales floor with nothing. 'Bout time 1 PM rolled around I had a Walkie, my set of keys, and my PDA in position as they usually are when I'm workin' in the Electronics and Entertainment section. I had it goin' on! And the best part was that no one dared to ask me for their equipment back. I guess things just work out that way. 

I'm proud of myself because my performance was so outstanding! I went so above and beyond that a Guest actually took out time to write me a Comment Card and gave me a good review. I didn't know this until Lynette, our GSTL (Guest Service Team Leader), announced that I got a Comment Card and actually read out the entire review from the Guest over the Walkie. No one else on the Black Friday staff got a Comment Card today but me. The good feedback was the highlight of my day. And the best part of it all was that I knew exactly what Guest wrote it out.

...I was the Queen of the sales floor, and as a result, my throat got sore. Cough drop anyone?...

*A personal digital assistant (PDA) is a handheld computer also known as palmtop computers. Newer PDAs also have both color screens and audio capabilities, enabling them to be used as mobile phones, (smartphones), web browsers, or portable media players. Many PDAs can access the Internet, intranets or extranets via Wi-Fi, or Wireless Wide-Area Networks (WWANs). Many PDAs employ touch screen technology.

Thank God I'm not in retail anymore. 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Open Letter to Kenny

I had a dream that you and I were playing Hide 'N Go Seek in your house last night. It was me and you against Vern and somebody else I couldn't identify. We were in the lead because we had all the best hiding spots. At some point you had my iPhone and lost it in some rubble that was in the basement near a door, but somehow, just like an extra pair of keys, I had another set of iPhone and I didn't need the original iPhone you lost even though I went searching for it. In that same dream we spent every second together long after the Hide 'N Go Seek game was over. We were committed and stayed by each others side at all times. Everything between us was golden. We didn't have a care in the world. We were so happy and so in love and then, 8:59 AM rolled around and fucked up my happiness. It was time for me to get ready for work. Before I set my mind to getting out of bed, I laid there for 15 minutes thinking about you and about us. The reality of what had been happening over the course of this month set in and I felt this gaping hole expanding in my heart. I was overwhelmed with sadness. My mind rewound itself back to when we got together. It played out like a movie. Only that version had a happy ending unlike the real life version. And I was faced with the fact of how much I really love you and how much I really miss you. I didn't want to spend another day being depressed over losing you, so I slowly took myself out of that mind set and thought about moving to California and so on and so forth to put me in good spirits.

I never thought that I'd find myself back in this place of sadness over anyone again. I honestly thought we had it. I honestly thought that you were going to be my husband and I your wife. I don't even know how we got to this place. I didn't see it coming. All I wanted to do was talk to you. You couldn't even give me that even after all your promises of not shutting me out. You'd forsaken me and made me realize that you were no one special, but just another man. My level of heartache had reached a new low.

I just want my Kenny back! The Kenny that was crazy in love with me. I fuckin' loved you with all my heart. All I asked for was love and respect in return. I couldn't even get that.

What happened to you? What happened to us?  

40 Things by 40

I saw this Bucket List called 30 Things by 30 on a fellow bloggers blog some weeks ago and I've been having the urge to write my own. I'm just a few years older than she and I don't see all these things getting done come time I reach my 30th birthday. I'm much closer to that age than she is. So here's my Bucket List. 40 Things by 40...In no particular order.

1.Get my Bachelor's Degree of Arts in English
2. Become a Best-Selling Published Writer
3. Expand my Vocabulary one Word a Day
4. Finally see the Ocean
5. Go Surfing
6. Get a New Piercing
7. Get my First Tattoo
8. Go Sky Diving
9. Run a Marathon
10. Grow my own Vegetable Garden

11. Move to California
12. Move to New York
13. Move to New Orleans
14. Travel Every Year and Visit all 50 States
15. Travel to South America, Europe, East Asia, South Africa, Australia, The Islands
16. Go on Regular Road Trips
17. Visit a Vineyard
18. Meet BeyoncĂ© (New York)
19. Meet Trista Russell (Chicago)
20. Meet Tyler Perry (Atlanta)

21. Keep Growing out my Hair
22. Get my High School Figure Back. Size 7/8 (I'm only a few pant sizes shy of this goal.)
23. Be like my Brother and become Fluent in Spanish
24. Learn to Speak French
25. Become my own Boss
26. Be on Reality TV (Follow in the Foot Steps of Anthony Bourdain)
27. Own More Shoes
28. Own More Clothes
29. Own More Purses
30. Marry the love of my life

31. Win the Lottery
32. Own my own Successful Restaurant
33. Save for my Retirement
34. Grow my Savings Account
35. Become less Dependent on my Credit Cards
36. Donate to St. Jude Children's Hospital
37. Pay off my Student Loans in Less Than Ten Years
38. Pay off my Nissan Loan in Less Than Five Years
39. Pay those two Charge Offs I have on my Credit Report-Stupid Credit Reports
40. Lead a Debt Free Life

"This is my life. This is my one time to be. I want to experience all good things."
~Maya Angelou

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Blackout 2003

The day was Thursday, August 14, 2003. The weather was perfectly fit to go to the beach. My mom was off running errands while I was in my room watching old re-runs of Roseanne and my little brother, that was five at the time, was playing in his room. 4:10 PM struck (Eastern Standard Time) and all there was, was silence. The chatter from the idiot box wasn't stirring. The mellow roar of the electricity wasn't buzzing. It was silent and it demanded our attention. I didn't think much of the electricity failure seeing as how black and brown outs were common in my neighborhood. Keeping in mind that I had to start getting ready for work at 4:30 PM, I patiently waited for the subtle roar of the electricity to claim it's presents once again. But there was none. I decided to get myself in the shower giving myself a head start on my pre "going to work" preparations.

After getting out of the shower I headed back to my room to continue with my personal hygiene routine to prepare for my 5:00 PM shift at Meijer (grocery store). The bedroom window was wide open letting in the gustily light breezes of the mildly warm day. While I was preparing for my evening departure, I heard "Yeah yeah yeah, man. I just heard on the radio that there's a power outage that stretches all the way up to Canada!...". My ears were insulted. I was in disbelief as I listened to my across the street neighbor talk to my next door neighbor about the days events. In the matter of seconds I came to the realization of my reality as I heard the radio waves seek into my Caress wild berry body spray scented room. By the sounds of the lingering disconnected silence, conversations could be heard throughout the neighborhood.

Once my mom returned to care for my brother, I loaded myself into my candy apple colored 1989 Geo Spectrum, I so proudly named Georgia, and drove my two mile drive to 13 Mile and Little Mack. During the duration of my two mile drive, I couldn't believe what I seen before me. Every major street corner I took a gander at was voided of its monotonous tri-colored light signals and replaced with enforcement officers. The streets were packed with observers and everyone the like. There was no optimism in my mind. The world was going to end.

Much to my surprise, the grocery/department store was packed with people from the neighborhood and others that drove in far from Detroit and of various suburbs of Detroit. If there was an "Everybody and their mama!" moment, this was it. The big one. The apocalyptic shopping trip. One that I wasn't prepared for.

The store was running on two power generators. At my 18 year old age, I can admit that I didn't even remotely know what they were or what they did, but by the end of my five hour shift, I got to know what the two power generators did very well.

There were crowds of people in every corner of the cookie cutter box shaped store. The lines stretched far beyond the "three people per line" capacity. The lines of customers were so long that they no longer resembled lines anymore, but of one big mass that never stopped short of growing. A humans will to live is truly a remarkable thing. All of a sudden, little things like money and objects lost their appeal. The value was solely placed on food and water. And suddenly, the instinct to live kicked in. I saw the desperate look of survival in the eyes of many.

Surpassingly enough, the crowds of people matched with the limitless merchandise of the giant grocer seemed to transcend smoothly only until the first power generator failed just short of sun set. One generator was all we had to carry us through the 24 hour retailer store hours. During some point after the first generator failed, people started to freak. Me? I was practically sitting back enjoying the show. I find human behavior fascinating. One of our cashiers took it upon herself to climb her hefty ass up on her register and started yelling at the crowds of people to calm them down. Management wasn't doing much to keep the crowds tamed, so us in Department 40, had to do what had to be done, even if it took a little gusto on our parts. We had to do it. Throwing bows and all. Working the front end of a grocery store isn't all glitter and unicorns. Having balls is a requirement not and option.

Right after 9:00 PM, the second generator failed and it was every male, woman and child for their self. In the moon light that was dimly shinning into the large window walls overlooking the registers, I observed the civilized becoming very uncivilized. During the last stretch of this fiasco, management decided to start giving out flashlights. I ceased the moment and took the most expensive flashlight I could identify. The aluminum coated flashlight, fitted with two heavy double D sized batteries with a comfortable red and black silicone button to push for luminous pleasures screamed out to me like it, itself was afraid of the dark. The heavy smooth coated expensive device came equipped with a rope for easy hanging. I'm not 100% positive if the staff could take the flashlights home with them. But as I fast forward throughout these eight years I see that, that wasn't my concern considering how I still have that flashlight with the original batteries. Still works!

I walked towards my hoopty along with my co-workers. Among my co-workers was one of my bestest friends, Hasani. I didn't have time for lollygagging. My goal was to make it home quick! The mood of the town was like being in a basement with only the residual lights of the upstairs shining in from under the door. Drving down Gratiot Avenue (GRASH-it) I found only myself and the stars above me. I drove the speed limit all the way up to 15 Mile Road and Willis to stop by my Nana's house before going home to see what everyone was up to. When I pulled into the pebble lined driveway, I observed the heavy candle light glow emerging from the brick glass of the dining room. I listened to the voices from across the street at the Oxford Square town homes where I spent most of my childhood. The heat and humidity we dealt with that night wasn't fit for anyone without electricity. People were camping outside as if we were in a third world country.

After leaving from my Nana's house, I drove up four blocks to my house where my mom and brother were. I don't know how they did it, but they were fast asleep. I cuddled up near my open bedroom window to keep cool during the very warm and very humid starry night. I imagined what my boyfriend, whom I'll refer to as Andrae for this blog post, was doing . We hadn't spoke since before the power failure. And seeing as how cell phone signals were down, we didn't speak for the duration of the day. I sprawled out across my bed and dosed off to the sounds of crickets and distal conversations.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Kenny V.s Spenny (Original Post Date November 19, 2007)

I dug up this little piece of literature from my MySpace archive that I saved on my laptop. As you see, this was written exactly four years ago on this day. I think its pretty gosh darn phenomenal that I decided to go through my old blog files that fell on this exact date. I didn't plan this. I swear.

Anyway, enjoy...and don't gag. 

Kenny Vs Spenny: Who Can Eat More Meat?

Date: November 19, 2007
Time: Prime Timeish
Location: Macomb Township, MI

If you've never seen this show on Comedy Central then you don't know what your missin'. The show is basically about these two best friends who compete against each other every week. The winner gets the glory and the looser does whatever the winner tells him. Their competitions are ridiculous, immature and intensely funny, which brings me to my next point.

I had just turned to Comedy Central and caught the last 10 minutes of South Park. The commercial for Kenny vs. Spenny came on and I was like, "Eww! I'm not watchin' that!!!" Little did I know, I did watch that and I'm completely regretful that I did.

The competition for this episode was: Who could eat the most meat. Yeah! Pretty gross. I got suckered in. I just wanted to watch the first few minutes to see how the competition started but somehow I got sucked in. 
The way the two best friends kept tabs on who ate the most was by weighing the meat. Kenny was in the lead until the very end of the show. Spenny took the lead because he was smart about what he was doing and he didn't get barbaric like Kenny.       

First off let me say, Kenny is insane. He ate any meat that came his way. His first choice was cow's tongue which was gross to begin with. I like Spenny because he's smart and sincere. He started off eating a whole turkey. By staying in the game he found a clever way to digests his meat. I beat you're sayin’ to yourself, "Hmm. That doesn't sound so bad." You're wrong! 

In the begging of the episode Spenny was soundly asleep until Kenny came in his room with a bucket of cow organs and intestines and dumped it on him. This part was so funny to me because the editors put it in slow-mo. Spenny jumped out of bed yelling "What is this?!!!! What is this?!!!" and Kenny ran away like a little girl and hid in the corner of the living room. Spenny then found the nearest object, which happened to be an extension cord, and whipped Kenny's back.

The next part wasn't so funny. This is when it got nasty. At the height of Kenny's carnivorous journey Kenny spontaneously started throwing up. I yelled out "Oh! Jeeze!" covered my eyes and lowered the volume on the TV because I starting gagging and I literally almost threw up too. This lasted at least five minutes on three separate occasions.

Since I watched that episode last night I have been turned off by meat. That's bad considering how my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving is nothing but three days away...

Nasty, right? Go out there and search for this episode on YouTube or somethin' so you can actually see what I saw and be grossed out at the same time. 

If you saw this episode and remember it, more power to ya!

Things I've Learned at Jimmy John's

A good way to stand out in the restaurant industry other than having a good old fashion food war is by having artifacts displayed on the walls. Artifacts are a good way of standing out in this massily overgrown industry. The display gives the building or company and overall theme or mood that sets them apart from the next guy. Some companies use retro items, while others use signs, dollar bills, writing on the wall, you name it, it’s out there. However, there is one restaurant out there that has their own flair that I’ve fallen in love with years ago. The witty and cleaver artifacts I’ve come across on Jimmy John’s walls are classic! Above all, they are original and I love the humor of this guy. It's like he lives in my head! I stopped by there today and fell in love with this poster. I Googled it as soon I got home because I had to share it with the world. I am a Blogger. Duh! That’s what I do. Number eleven is my favorite. A bout time you get done reading this you might have a few favorites of your own. If you have never been to a Jimmy John’s I suggest you get on it. They have the best subs and clubs I’ve ever had.

Here it is. 

16 Things it Took Me Over 50 Years to Learn


1. Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.
2. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, and never will achieve, its full potential, that word would be "meetings."
3. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."
4. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.
5. You should not confuse your career with your life.
6. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance. (This one is very important)
7. Never lick a steak knife.
8. The most destructive force in the universe is gossip.
9. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight savings time.
10. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.
11. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age 11.
12. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that, deep down inside, we ALL believe that we are above average drivers.
13. A person, who is nice to you, but rude to a waiter, is not a nice person. (This is very important. Pay attention. It never fails.)
14. Your friends love you anyway.
15. Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.
16. Thought for the day: Men are like fine wine... They start out as grapes; and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

You can't tell me you didn't laugh out loud.

Friday, November 18, 2011

An Ode to Michigan According to Jeff Fox Worthy

  1. If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you may live in Michigan.
  2. If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't even work there, you may live in Michigan.
  3. If you've worn shorts and a jacket at the same time, you may live in Michigan.
  4. If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a wrong number, you may live in Michigan.
  5. If "vacation" means going anywhere North of Grand Rapids for the weekend, you may live in Michigan.
  6. If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Michigan.
  7. If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you may live in Michigan.
  8. If you have switched from heat to A/C in the same day and back again, you may live in Michigan.
  9. If you can drive 75 MPH through two feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you may live in Michigan.
  10. If you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both doors unlocked, you may live in Michigan.
  11. If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you may live in Michigan.
  12. If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you may live in Michigan.
  13. If the speed limit on the highway is 70 MPH and you're going 80 and everybody is passing you, you may live in Michigan.
  14. If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow, you may live in Michigan.
  15. If you know all four seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road construction, you may live in Michigan.
  16. If you have more miles on your snow blower than your car, you may live in Michigan.
  17. If you find 10 degrees "a little chilly", you may live in Michigan.
  18. If you actually understand these jokes, repost this so all of your Michigan friends and others can see, you definitely do live, or have lived, in Michigan.
I miss my Mitten

Tuesday, November 8, 2011


Date: November 3, 2011
Location: Work
Time: Sometime after 9:00 PM

I grew up today. No, I don't mean in a forceful way, I meant it in a wine enthusiast way. I tasted the flavors of adulthood tonight at work at the bar and I liked it! I would've never in my wildest dream...ok. Maybe my wildest dream, but that's where it ends. I never thought that I'd taste the strong burnt berry flavors of red wine again since my unexpectant run in with moscato nine moths ago. But there I was sipping gladly without a care in the word.

Red wine is far from my usual alcohol of choice. I'd normally go for white or blush wines and cocktails. The only reason I ran for the shiraz was because of the $2.00 price tag a glass...or the $2.00 employee price tag, I should say. Otherwise I would've been like, "Fuck it!" and drove my sober ass home. My second glass of wine was merlot, only because I'd unexpectedly drank the last of the shiraz and also because the $2.95 price tag was screaming out to my dollars like a $2.95 hooker. I couldn't say no. The wine and I was a done deal.

After leaving my job, I made an unexpected stop at Fry's just for the hell of it. I didn't have to buy a thing but I found myself buying Yellow Tail shiraz-grenache. Why grenache you ask? Hell if I know. It was just one of those things I had to buy.

After tasting all three types of wines in the matter of two hours, I started to experience a kick ass buzz. I kinda liked what was going on. The effects kicked in quicker than liquor. Hey! I made a rhyme. Haa haa! The taste was a tad bitter than what I'm used to drinking. As long as I have a hearty meat or sweet chocolate, the tartness is nothing I can't bare. I guess I would have to say the taste of the shiraz was a little more sophisticated than what I would've expected it to be.

However, as they say, all good things must come to an end, considering how I've been drinking. And you know, they say you shouldn't drink and write. Apparently that's a no go either. So on that note, I'm out!

Peace, Love, and Drunkness!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

My New Toy and the Quest for other New Things

I woke up this morning asking myself what it was that I needed. I continued to lay down scrolling through my phone when it hit me that I needed to go to Target. I love Target. You have no idea. Then the laundry list of things that I needed read off in my head, then just like that it hit me.

Before I ventured out into the world, I took to the treadmill like a fatty doing my daily workout, even though I've only been back at it for two days. I hit the shower, did my hair and make-up, ate, watched TV for an hour and headed straight for the gas station because my 'lazy girl' habit rose from the dead and made me a procrastinator again. The gas light indicator was showing on the dashboard of my car. I've never drove it past that point literally until last night. I was about three miles from my tiny little desert town when the light came on. I got nervous and started thinking crazy thoughts of being stranded on the side of the desert road. The gas light indicator showed that I only had 20 miles until empty, then 19 miles, then 18 miles until the bars made to read as numbers now read as three single digital bars flashing on and off, on and off, on and off. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of having an indicator if the dash shows a blank?!" I yelled at the car. A few seconds later I parked in the driveway of my house and swiftly turned my car off from fear of my precious car shutting off on me. So, today in a panic when I turned the ignition, I seen that I had 18 miles until empty before the little bars came back to bitch slap me. The drive to the gas station was a long one despite it only being a mile up the street. The drive felt like ages with being sandwiched between distance, slow drivers, and those stupid traffic lights intended for safety. But, whatever. I made it. Safely.    

Twenty miles later I made it to Chandler, Arizona and strolled my newly worked out body into Target Greatland. I grabbed a shopping cart and made a b-line to Stationary. I'm not a girly girl. I can be a nerd at times. Just the sight of being around notebooks and pens make me wet. And then I seen it staring back at me. It was tall, black, and cost a whopping $19.99. It only took me four years to get to this point, but I finally made the idea of buying a paper shredder a reality. I examined all the potential shredders until I made my final decision on some Followers brand I didn't recognize. An hour fifteen minutes and $72.99 later, I made it back to my car with my paper shedder and bags in hand.

I was itching to go home. I really was. But Barnes & Noble kept calling out to me.  I was half way down the street heading back to the Loop 202 freeway when I made a U-Turn back into the mall area. "It'll be quick. All I want is a Daily Word Calender." I told myself. Little did I know nearly an hour and a half later I walked out with a $54.28 purchase. Credit cards are evil. That's my input. But I did get some goodies. I was strolling down the aisles trying to find the African American fiction section. I noticed that they didn't have one anymore but I continued to stroll the aisles anyway. The first novel I came across had something to do with a gold digging hootchie from California. I passed that book up because I felt uncomfortable with the content. Then I came across a second novel just a few steps to the left. Midnight: A Gangsta Love Story caught my eyes with the illustration of a fine ass teenage boy with a hoodie gracing the cover. I didn't pick it up because I didn't feel gripped by the title. Adjacent to that novel was The Coldest Winter Ever by the same author, Sister Souljah. I've never heard of this novelist. Nor was I interested in her but I couldn't stop the impulse of my left hand gripping the novel off the shelf.

"I never liked Sister Souljah, straight up. She the type of female I'd like to cut with my razor. Before I get heated talking about her, let me make it clear who I am and where I stand. Don't go jumping to any conclusions either. All of y'all are too quick to jump to her defense without knowing what somebody up close and personal thinks. When it comes right down to it, those are the people that really count, the people that was there, who seen it all. Hell, you can't smell nobody's breath through a camera. You almost can't see their pimples. So you know that shit on TV ain't real. Don't run ahead of me. Let me take my time to tell my story."

I read the first paragraph not expecting to be reeled in and continued to read Chapter 1 for the next ten minutes. I didn't make it to Chapter 2 because I had put the novel down by then. I walked away. Not 20 seconds later I walked back to examine the book. I walked away again, quickly turning back around to pick up my copy. The writer in my suddenly felt complete. I went on my venture to find that Daily Word Calender I went into the store for only to end up in the African American section. My eyes instantly focused on Hair Story: Untangling The Roots of Black Hair in America. Believe it or not, I've been searching for this book for twelve years. The fall of 1999 somewhere in Detroit, Michigan, I was sitting at the beauty salon waiting on my stylist to finish up on the appointment she had before me. On the coffee table setting next to the magazines was this book. I picked it up and started reading clear to the middle of Chapter 2 until it was my turn to get my hair did. I told myself not to forget the name of the book, but as fate would have it, I did and the search started. Here it is 2011 in Arizona and I'm finally reunited with my book I've been searching high and low for. Right as I was walking through the checkout I came across this table that was clustered with little boxes. I took a closer look and realized that I was looking at tiny daily calenders. After examining a few boxes I came across what I was looking for: 365 New Words a Year. I had finally found what I was looking for. Sadly, I can't use it until January 1, 2012. What the hell!

Grand Total: $127.97 plus a $4.64 slice of Red Velvet Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory from the Starbucks inside the bookstore brought my day trip for a paper shredder, hand soap, air freshener, and a Daily Word Calender up to $132.61 with all the other crap I brought. Not including the $50 I purchased for gasoline. None of the time I spent and the money I wasted took me off my focus. I had my new toy and four years of shredding to get through.

Note: Trista Russell has been my favorite novelist since I came across her in 2006. Weird enough, I didn't read the book I purchased until two years later in 2008. After reading through Chocolate Covered Forbidden Fruit I raced to all the Barnes and Nobles in the town to purchase her other novels, Fly on the Wall, Going Broke and Dead Broke (sequel to Going Broke). I've been on Trista's jock ever since. I brought her last book Bedroom Bully in 2010. I've been waiting for that sequel. I'm still waiting. I haven't found another novelist to compare to her, so I never bothered looking. Russell inspired me to write. I always had this gift in me. I just chose to pin it up because I seen my writing abilities as a curse. Why? I don't know. That topic is all different story I'll probably tell one day. Now since discovering Sister Souljah, a whole new world has been opened up for me because all my writing has been influenced by Russell.

Hold on. Rewind. Start over. Press Play. This blog post was supposed to be about my paper shredder. I love my paper shredder. I shredded through some years and relived them as I as shredding them. It freaks me out because I spent a few hours shredding but what I got rid of is peanuts compared to the piles and piles of papers I need to rid myself of. I remember the days of shredding by hand. The world is no longer a safe place for that. Damn you stupid people and your stealing of others identities!

Oops! I didn't mean for this post to be so long. Hee hee :)

Friday, October 7, 2011

How to Lose a Girlfriend in 10 days

1) Turing off your phone sending her calls straight to Voicemail.
2) Letting the phone ring and don't answer her calls.
3) Seeing she called and don't bother calling her back.
4) Leaving her to wonder why you won't speak to her.
5) Don't bother to reply to her chain of text messages.
6) Placing blame on her.
7) Texting her far and few in between.
8) Placing all your needs before hers.
9) Stop communicating with her.
10) Ignoring her.
11) Don't call her.
12) Making her feel like you've forgotten about her altogether.
13) Making her feel worthless.
14) Making her feel lousy.
15) Making her cry.
16) Making her sad.
17) Making her feel lonely.
18) Making her attention seeking.
19) Breaking her heart.
20) Allowing her to resent you.
21) Making her feel like maybe she's wasting her time.
22) Giving her time to lose interest in you.
23) Making her realize she deserves better.
24) Being just like all the other guys. Something you said you'd never do.
25) Most importantly, making her feel as though she shouldn't have taken 10 days without pay out of her work schedule to travel more than 2,000 miles to visit you. What was supposed to be a post happy visit ended in vain.
If you love someone, and I really mean deep down in your soul-you'll die if you ever lost this person type of love, you'd never go out of your way to treat that person that badly. It's just a slap in the face to her when she thinks back on all the things she's done for you and all times she heard you tell her that you'd never break her heart or never leave her. Love is NOT supposed to hurt.

If reading this blog post offends you, then that means this was directed towards you specifically and was intended as an eye opener.

In other words, don't let it happen again!

Home Sweet Home

Date: September 23, 2011 to September 28, 2011
Time: 11:00 AM Friday Eastern Standard Time (Michigan) to 8:30 PM Wednesday Mountain Standard Time (Arizona)
Location: Clinton Township, Michigan and Phoenix, Arizona


After being dropped off by Kenny at my moms house, there wasn't much to do but watch the Wendy Williams Show, eat the remaining two inches of my italian sub I had from the night before, and nap until my little big brother got out of school. Being the dreary, cold, rainy Friday that it was, the mood of the day didn't leave much room for anything but sleepy-laziness. My mom and I ventured out into the depressing wether to pick up my little big brother, Lexis, from middle school. Afterwards, we made our way over to Walmart picking up some goodies to last until my unwanted departure.

I spent the remainder of my stay reuniting with my great aunt, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends--people I haven't seen in years! It was a  mini family reunion of sorts.

I have a lot of drunken memories from Saturday. I never visioned myself as a kid getting wasted with family members. I had a lot of fun that night. Sunday was another day to remember. I had an impromptu family dinner at my great aunts house. Good food, good memories, and a lot of shared true ghost stories. You'd never believe any of those stories if I ever told you. I spent Monday with my dad. We went out to eat and we seen The Help. I love that movie. Check it it sometime. I can't wait until it comes out on video.

Tuesday was spent being miserable and sick from that cold I cought at Kenny's place. Who do you know that goes on vacation and ends up getting sick? Oh. Well, Darling that person is me of course. My mom took good care of me though. I would've felt better if she cranked on the heat. Michigan is cold this time of year.

The last day. Wednesday. I spent with my Kenny. We went out to lunch. But before he could let me go on to my flight, he brought me a really pretty ring. I mean, he let me pick it out. But it was really pretty. I wish I knew what kind of stone is.

The flight home was typical. I didn't want to leave. I couldn't believe all ten days flew by in the blink of an eye. I spent the flight back to Arizona in awe of my new ring and thinking back on all the good times I had. If I could do it all again, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But the time had come to move on and get back to reality.

No matter where you go. No matter what you do. There's no place like home.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Kenny and Krissy: Together Again

Date: September 18, 2011 to September 23, 2011
Time: 9:00 Sunday Evening to 11:00 Friday morning
Location: Clinton Township and Detroit, Michigan


Three hours after landing at the Detroit Wayne County airport and adjusting to the cool midwestern weather, I was enthusiastically greeted with tight hugs and wet kisses on the front porch from my *Kenny at my moms house. My nostrils were filled with the sweet undertones of his cologne, I felt the touch of his moist soft lips on mine, I tasted the residual mint flavored gum mixed with Newport cigarettes from his saliva. Our eyes gazed into each other, if only for a minute. That minute felt like an eternity. Our reunion nestled us in a euphoria. In that moment I was no longer Kristi. I was **Kristi and **Ken and I loved every micro second of it. The mass of the population don't realize how fortunate they are to have their other half within earshot. Unlucky lovers such as myself and Kenny have to maintain a relationship that's over 2,000 miles apart, seven States wide, three Time Zones away. No one said it would be easy, but somehow, some way, we made it work. The days and months are still mounting. We're currently on our eighth month. After gathering my things once again and temporarily telling my mom and little big brother good bye, Kenny and I drove to the city of Detroit for a four night-five day stay at his home after doing some light grocery shopping at the local Kroger in Roseville. 

The days in between were filled with meeting his mom, dad, sister, brothers, niece, nephew, friends, watching movies, gambling at the MGM Grand casino in downtown Detroit, dining in, ordering out, dancing, laughter, loving, touching, hugging, getting sick. [We've come to a screeching halt.] Yes, getting sick. I caught a cold from the massive amounts of chilly air creeping into our love cave. From someone that has adapted to scorching heat and thick air of the Sonoran desert in Arizona, the Michigan native in me couldn't adjust back to the environment that it was most familiar with. The days following were miserable from deep within my thoracic and sinus cavities. But every moment spent with my Kenny made every "I feel like death" moment ok. 

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and boy, were they right. The amount of catching up we did was a sight to be seen. Or not be seen if your faint of heart. To finally be able to look over and see his face, or reach out and touch him and utter his name and he's in the same space to verbalize his response took me to a new level of being in love. Everything about that man turned me on and we took full advantage of our time together. 

To be continued...

*Story version names
**Real names

Friday, September 30, 2011

Delta Airlines

Date: September 18, 2011
Time: 10:00 AM Mountain Standard Time (Arizona) and 5:45 PM Eastern Standard Time (Michigan)
Location: Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport and Detroit Wayne County Airport

My trip started off as typical as any other. I walked on the airbus staring out onto the lucky ones that got to sit in the first class sections followed by all the Zone 1s, Zone 2s, and those with children. There I stood in the never ending line of travelers walking inch by inch until I reached my final destination--seat 21 A. Did somebody say window seat? Why yes. Certainly they did. That person was me. After I got cozy with my fluffy fleece pillow and book, I was greeted by a sweet old lady--who had the gift of gab. Bless her little heart. She carried on with a conversation of how tricky it was for her to find the row numbers after she had stumbled upon her assigned seat. She then concluded with telling me of how she thought she need glasses because of this fiasco and how her last plane trip was back in the 1970s when her late husband was alive. To comfort her aged mind, I chimed in about how I thought I had to count the seats one-by-one until I remembered the tiny numbers were up on the airplane ceiling. That little tid bit comforted her real good until I told her, "This is my second time flying..." which then took us on a completely different subject until our friend who sat in 21 C arrived. Boy oh boy did she have a field day with that fella. Poor guy didn't even see it coming.

Once we were soaring above the clouds, we were all off in our own little worlds. I was listening to my iTunes while reading Write Great Fiction: Plot and Structure by James Scott Bell. Hey! Don't judge me. In order for one to be good at ones craft, one must study ones craft. That last sentence was totally lame, but it's the truth. All right, so, the sweet little old lady with the gift of gab was doing cross word puzzles and the fella that was bum rushed by the sweet old lady, was on his laptop doing--I don't know what. I know he had in ear buds for sure. All was calm and quiet until I desperately needed to visit the washroom of the sky. I was dying to experience what others made such a big fuss over considering how that was my second plane trip ever. I give the experience an A+. I found the lavatory cozy. It was like sitting in my car. After I returned to my seat, there she went again doing what she did best. Talk. I totally can't blame her though. Her husband past away 30 some odd years ago. She's lonely.

Finally after about three or four hours of flying the friendly skies, we land at the McNamara Terminal at the Detroit Wayne County airport. I couldn't tell you how excited I was to peel myself out of that chair. You could only imagine. To give you a little back story, I traveled back home to Michigan back in June for the first time. I've never flown anytime before that. I remember the pilot announcing the carousel the luggage would be on. I remember walking into the building and the first thing I saw was National Coney Island. And I remember hitting that first left to baggage claim. It took me five minutes tops. This experience was completely different than the first. The pilot didn't announce didly squat and the terminal had to be the size of 10 [American] Football fields. I figured I was lost when I realized I was walking and wasn't getting anywhere. It took me a good 15 minutes to find the "You Are Here" map and to realize I wasn't in the same terminal as before. I was somewhere upstairs and I had to get downstairs for baggage claims. It was there where I met up with my uncle Johnny and little big brother Lexis. My uncle found the carousel with my luggage because I was completely lost. I told him, "I'm lost." Like I said, that was my second experience flying. My uncle had a field day with my going astray.

Finally what made the flight worth while was seeing my mom and giving her a hug on the curb, being in cooler weather that was exactly 30 degrees lower than what it was in Arizona, and watching all the cars with Michigan license plates drive by.

I was home.

To be continued... 

Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Funny Thing is...

The funny thing about exercising is that you got to keep doing it, otherwise the body starts to look like the blob.

My body isn't what it was when I was teenager. I was like a snake. Back then I could eat something one day and be good for the next few days and have food not even cross my mind. With me being in my 20s, my body is running on a whole new operating system. If I hear or feel one grumble in my belly, I'm all over the kitchen like a scouring mouse. I'm in the fridge, I'm in the freezer, I'm in the pantry, and I won't stop until I find something to shove down my throat.

I love my body. It's just that sometimes I feel like a fatty when the PMS rolls around because then I'm all bloated like the Michelin man. Then in the back of my head I'm thinking, "I love food too much to be anorexic. Food is too damn expensive to be bulimic, and I hate routine enough to workout every single day of my life."

So the funny thing is...Ugh! Eff it. The whole "weight" thing is overrated.   

I'm going to Outback Steakhouse.

No Internet, No Cable, No Connection, Oh My!

Date: September 10, 2011 through September 16, 2011
Time: All day!
Location: This Old House

Somewhere out there, there is a house. Inside that house is a family. Within that family is an issue. The issue is peanuts relative to anything else, but big enough to drive them nuts.

Imagine one day you're living in the 21st Century living carelessly off the airwaves picking up signals from the atmosphere then BAM! You're back in the 1980s; Internet pulverized. A few days later the same thing happens to the TV. One day you're watching it then, POW! You're back in the 1950s; nothing but white noise.

Watching cable requires nothing. Just park your ass and the job is done. Crazy thing about being an aspiring writer is, you need the Internet in order to blog, otherwise your readers are going to think you've abandoned them. Well, I'm here to tell you all not to fret because Krissy is back y'all! But only for a limited time. Vacation is calling and there'll be no time to blog. Don't be discouraged though. 10 days will fly by.



Morning Goop

Date: September 14, 2011
Time: 5 A.M
Location: The Hallway

I was just jolted awake by the most peculiar sound coming from outside my bedroom door. The sound sounded like gigantic water balloons hitting the floor and bursting. All I know is I had to "use it" really bad, so I jumped out my bed searching for pajama bottoms forgetting where they were. I had just washed all my clothes and folded them neatly in the hamper (that never happens) a few hours ago so I was completely lost, half sleep, and panicked until I remembered they were on the bottom of the stack. Once I finally got something on my lower half and a bra on, I unlocked and open the door and I hear a female voice coming from the dark void,
"Be careful. I just threw up."
Realizing it was my cousin Mikki in my bathroom and still being confused by what was going on I reply,
"You came downstairs to throw up?"
Sounding defeated, she answered,
"No. I came down to get some water--."
Right before she could finish her sentence I get the moxy to venture out into the dark to run upstairs to unleash what felt like a waterfall-and what do I do? I walk right in it. I only got as far as the living room couch until I realized what had just happened on the sole of my foot.

Uck! Ruined a perfectly good pair of socks.

Sorry for the totally disgusting story. I had to tell someone and you all were my first choice--after Kenny of course.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

My Body Loves Me!

Drawing by Shikaru1415

Not too many days ago my body was in agony over my workout regiment.

I'd hit the treadmill for 30 minutes in the early afternoon and sprint five times for at least a minute or until my insides started to burn. After my half hour was up I'd lift free weights and end with 50 sit ups. Before I got ready for bed, I'd do the same workout only adding an extra half hour to the treadmill. Easy right? Well, I thought so but my thighs kept whining, so I decided to fall back for two days allowing my body to recover.

I got on the scale yesterday. I dropped another three pounds. So that's six pounds of girth lost in one week plus three pounds of muscle. I kick ass!

I only have eight days until my 10 day vacation. Not to mention the bowl of macaroni and cheese, two slices of three meat pizza, and a bunch of cookies 'n cream ice cream I had yesterday. Oh My!

But everything will be ok because my body loves me.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

My Thighs Hate Me

"No pain no gain" they say. I say, "Shut the fuck up. My thighs are on fire."

In efforts to getting myself skinny by September 18th, I've been doing everything in my power to shed my girth, like: eliminating processed sugars, fried foods, drinking nothing but iced water and hot teas, eating healthier and lighter. You get the drill. Then there's the treadmill that's doing me in.

Working out on the treadmill is fine. Working out on the treadmill is great. It's only when all is said and done is when I'm in trouble. Fermentation is what's wrong with me. According to  my body isn't "awesome". And when the body isn't "awesome" the muscles get tired setting in for fermentation. The body releases lactic acid giving it the energy it needs therefore giving the body the sore feeling. I can't begin to tell you where I am on the pain scale. All I can say is that I have a really hard time climbing stairs. I have to literally get down and crawl on my hands and knees. My thighs alone won't take me. Then there's the whole sitting down/getting up thing. That has all been thrown out the window. Imagine trying to get in and out of your car and immediately becoming hesitant because the pain is so intense. Or better yet, using the little ladies room. That alone has become an adventure in itself. Fermentation is a bitch.

The crazy thing about all this is that my toes are in pain too. I don't even wanna know why they hurt. All I know is that I have eleven days left to lose an inch off my waist and hips. I'm excited for when I get to say, "buh bye" to my girth and "hello" to my sexy!

Let's get it!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

I Need to get Skinny by September 18th

Once upon a time, I was a lazy working girl who had lost all interest in all things and gained nothing but a few pounds. Well, things have changed, my little friends, because I have to get skinny by September 18th.

Why September 18th, you ask? Well, September 18th is the day I land on Michigan's rich soil, of course! I'll be greeted by my mom, my big little brother, and my uncle at the Detroit Metropolitan Airport. Then later, I'll meet up with my Kenny to spend five uninterrupted days with him then it's off to Sandusky, Ohio for our mini vacation together at Cedar Point for some thrills and shrills. The last few days I'll get to spend with my mom and little big brother. And I really need to squeeze in time with my dad because I really miss him. Hopefully, I'll get to meet up with my friends from high school and spend some well needed time with my cousins because I only have ten days to do everything I want to do.

So, you see, I have to look good because I did pack on some girth while in my lazy girl phase. I really started to change things around for myself last week on August 29th. I was trying on clothes that I wanted to take with me and I found that things didn't quite fit like they had just a few months ago, so I started working out. Last I checked, I lost three pounds. But since I've been running on the treadmill twice a day for an hour and a half total (30 minutes in the morning and one hour at night), I've gained muscle in my ass and thighs. And my tummy has slimmed some. I honestly couldn't tell you how much weight I've lost because as we all know, muscle is heavier than fat. Damn, Kenny is gonna love this! Thick girls rock!

Coke bottle body figure, here I come. I never forgot you!

I was hopeless, now I all hopeful.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Life as a Blogger Vol. 1

I thought I'd try something new by Bloging during the day. I had my topic, I was cozy and ready to type. No soon as I could comfortably rest my fingers on the keyboard, I hear, "You know you gotta get outta my seat, right?" I was getting the boot from Nana to remove my tail from her recliner while being towered over.

I didn't say anything. I packed my shit and relocated to the kitchen island to sit peacefully on the bar stool. I thought I was safe from all things. Ehh! Wrong. I got distracted by the Strawberry Cream Cheese pound cake setting beside me. So I ate some. Aye. What can I say? Cake always wins. I thought I was safe after digesting the processed goodness. Wrong again. My cousin Marie saw me eating a slice and just as all things happen around here she went and got her some. The unwritten code around here is: when you spot someone eating in the kitchen you are morally obligated to join them to potentially gain weight. It's a vicious cycle. Still being part of the vicious food cycle, I found myself in the walk in pantry sneaking Cheez-Its. Then, my cousin Mikal (Michael) shouts out, "Who wants my cup of noodles?"

Me: "What's wrong wit 'em?"

Mikal: "Nothing. I don't really like noodles. I heated them up because I was hungry. I'm about to go get something to eat." That's code for "getting fast food".

Me: (peeping out of the pantry munching on the crispy cheese snack squares) I look over at Marie to have a telepathic conversation, I blurt, "Fine. I'll eat it."

Mikal goes away and Marie shouts "I wanted the noodles." I reply, "You was too slow."

Deep inside I was yelling at myself  "I need to get skinny by September 18th!" But no matter how many times I keep reminding myself, I can't keep from eating. Am I greedy? Yes. But this is beyond the usual. PMS is a motha. It transforms this chick into a beast!

I just wanna take time out to apologize to all my male readers for mentioning the unmentionable. I know how hearing about PMS and a woman's cycle makes you feel weird inside. You'll all get over it...eventually.

Finally after the cake, the noodles, the Cheez-Its, the Kool-Aid, the salad I found abandoned on the kitchen counter is all ate and digested, it's back to business. But just as before, right as I get myself comfortable enough to type,  I rested my fingers on the keyboard and I hear, "WHERE IS THAT LITTLE GIRL!" Marie's mother comes bursting through the front door.

Me: "Upstairs"

Shavonne: Stomping upstairs "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT HANGING UP ON ME?!" I heard a smack followed by Marie running downstairs. I looked up to make sure she was alright and I tried to get back in the zone. What was followed after that was loud talking, yelling, the television blaring, kids running through the house, doors slamming. I couldn't take the noise. No wonder I wait until everyone is sleep to blog. The noise in this house drives me up the walls. I can't focus.

So this is my life as a blogger and sort of a "What not to do".

If I could remember my blog topic I would eventually post it. Until then, I need quiet time.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Mandatory Sex Parties

So, there I was being bored in my room minding my own business reading old Blog posts from Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh, when I started to read What Google Needs is Mandatory Sex Parties.

Before I started reading this post, I read the post before it, Allie Gets Arrested. This is a story within a story within a story that goes back to the original story. In the story that was actually being told, Allie and her friend Roger was arrested for apparently "moving a log", leaving broken beer bottles on the ground, and fire. Only they weren't the ones doing it. Can someone say falsely accused? While Allie and Roger was being held captive well...I let her tell the story.

"We finally arrived in front of a cute little farm house that would have seemed quaint and inviting under any other circumstances.  Well, maybe not any other circumstance - like probably not if we were there because we thought we were going to a costume party but it actually turned out to be a mandatory sex party.  Do people have mandatory sex parties?"

And THAT is where it all started.

The next Blog post, What Google Needs is Mandatory Sex Parties, goes even further off the edge.

The next day, or however long it was because Allie doesn't show post dates on her Blog, researches "Mandatory Sex Parties" and comes up with this

"So I googled it. And this is what I found (you'll probably have to click to make it bigger, but it's worth it): Apparently I'm the only person on the whole Internet to ever use the phrase "mandatory sex party."
I win."
 I *died laughed* after reading what she typed and took a closer look at the screen shot. If only you could understand my branch of humor.

After reading her post about how everyone should "Prank the Internet" I started to read all 48 comments, because I was bored and had nothing else better to do. Everyone involved had this sinister plan to create a fake Wiki page, start a #mandatorysexparties trend on Tweeter, type a fake definition on Urban Dictionary, so on and so forth. I was truly touched. Of all the wild and crazy words I've created and never thought to make them an Internet sensation shames me.

Ok. Ok. So after reading every single comment there was because of my boredom, a light bulb went off in my head. "Text Kenny. Text Kenny." So to the voice I said, "Haa haa! Ok. That'll be funny." Then I got to texting.

Me: "Mandatory Sex Party".

Before pressing send on the screen, I just so happen to look up at the recipient. See. I have an iPhone. Whenever I go into my text messages, I'm lead to he last conversation I had. I guess there's no such thing as picking and choosing in iWhatever Land so I just naturally assumed the last person I texted was Kenny. It just is. That's the natural order of things. Anyways, apparently I forgot I was texting my older cousin Shavonne just an hour before. She's about 15 years older than me. I could only imagine the look on her face after unexpectantly stumbling upon my text "Mandatory Sex Party". Actually, that would've been kinda funny seeing as how I'm the family clown.

So, like I was saying, I was texting Kenny and I almost accidentally texted my much older cousin Shavonne but I caught myself, because, that's how I roll.

Now I'm sharing this wild and crazy story that goes absolutely nowhere because after over and hour Kenny still hasn't replied.


*Died Laugh, Die Laughed, or Dieing Laughing: (verb) Black term or African American term, if you wanna be all politically correct and shit:

When someone laughs so hard that tears roll down their face (i.e rolling on the floor laughing).