My List of Things To Do

Tim is evil, and he forced me to make a list of things to do.  You see, I was always under the impression that he was my handyman.  Either him or my daddy.  But, I mean, my daddy has been doing it for about 30 years, so jeez, you’d think Tim would want to take a turn.   **rolling eyes**  When the grass needs cutting — Tim!  When I need new wood flooring — Tim!  When the bathroom needed painting — Tim!  I could go on, but that would give the evil one even more leverage. 

So, recently, I was telling Tim that I needed him to do something, I forget what it was, and he slyly pointed out that everytime he comes to Mississippi, he has things to do at my house.  But when I come to Memphis, I’m in full lounge mode.  My defense:  “Well, so…um…I make breakfast!”  Yeah, that’s it!  And I’m tired from that all weekend.  Heck, plus shouldn’t I get some credit for birthing the child?  Well, that excuse has played out, too. Apparently, the birth excuse doesn’t apply to some things after a while.  So, the evil Timothy decided to teach me a lesson.  He decided that I should contribute equally to his household by doing girl things, like groceries and laundry, and maybe even vacuuming.  UH UH.  I say “I do that stuff all week long at my house!”  He says ”The stuff you need me to do, I do all week long at my house.”  Damnit.  He’s right. I’ve been taking him for granted.  

So, I decided to make a list of the things I need fixed, which I would normally hand off to Tim, but this time I was am gonna get the stuff fixed myself.  With not even so much as a phone call to the evil one.   What’s on the list:  the toilet is broken, the fence needs putting back up, some problem with the home security, the stove thingy is broken, I broke the lawn mower (but it was evil Tim’s fault for not ever thinking I would try to mow the grass myself and not putting gas in the container that clearly said GAS) so I need to handle the grass somehow, and the DirectTV was jacked up (but I called my Daddy and he told me how to fix that one). 

I’m feeling good about my list, ya’ll.  Then I called the plumber….$100 to come see what was wrong.  The fence man……$500 at least.  The stove thingy….I’m still working with customer service on that.  The yard…..$50.  The home security…..I’m getting to it.  I don’t feel good about my list anymore.  And, let’s face it, I’M A GIRL.  And not one that ever did manual labor in her life, or that had to handle things going wrong in the house.  Ever.  My Daddy did it.   Yes, I’m fully capable of doing it myself, but I still don’t know WHY I should have to.  I just told you why….Tim is evil.  But, apparently, he’s worth a lot so I’m going to give him a break this go round.  He’ll be proud to see that I fixed everything on my own.  I wonder if this can count for a Father’s Day present………

So, enjoy your weekend, everyone!  While you’re maxin and relaxin, I’ll be plunging toilets.   See ya Monday!!!!       

 

Those GOP S.O.Bs

You know I try to leave you with a delightful Friday post, but this Republican Party Press Release has gone and upset me.  How high school is this?  Sheesh.  And, the sad thing is, this is the BEST they got?  A pathetic passive aggressive attempt to get at Michelle OBama?  So, a whole general election is going to center around attacks on 1) a candidates wife, 2) a candidates former pastor.  This should be easy, then, if you got nothing on the actual candidate.

 November can not come soon enough.

Don’t Take It Personal

A while ago, I was reading some posts at LoveBabz.  She was talking about getting served with her divorce papers and how it all felt.  And I was thinking, “Dang, I used to do that.  I used to make people feel like that.” I didn’t ever take pause to think that when I was instructing my process server to go find these people and serve them with papers that would end their marriage or get their kids taken that these people were actually…well…hurt, or disgusted, or even devastated.  I didn’t imagine anyone putting their kids in the car, starting their day, and getting popped with my papers.  Heck, I was just doing my job.

It was a thankless job, too.  Think about it, when you’re involved with the dissolution of a family, no one is ever going to be satisfied, even if I did the best I could do.  My clients would always feel they deserved more, the other person would always be rolling their eyes at me, the kids would always be torn.  And I did this over and over and over.  Day after day after day.  Hundreds of people.  Literally. Pretty soon, I was emotionless about it.  Get in, do my job, break up a family, get out. 

People didn’t understand how I could be so cold.  I wasn’t.  I just couldn’t care.  I had to be the one with the level head at the time so that 20 years from now, my client wouldn’t be somewhere having given up half their retirement, or so that as a child was growing up, my client would get his fair share of overnight visits and Christmases - cause he was just ready to say whatever and get it overwith.  I was the one that had to come up with a plan that two people were going to agree to that day and be satisfied with forever.

It became all too familiar. Breaking up families became second nature.  It really did affect my views and opinions on lots of things.  In some ways, I’m still jaded.  Anyway, I just wanted to let people know that it wasn’t that I didn’t care.  I just couldn’t care too much AND do my job in a manner that would be beneficial to them.  Don’t take it personal.  It wasn’t you, it was me trying to help you.  

I’m Hot, Baby!!

Last week, our brand new state of the art building flooded. Yes, we can withstand tornado force winds with ease, but a sprinkler system has taken us down.  The carpet is being ripped up, fans are blowing all over the place, and lots of contractors are being brought in to fix the damage.  And there was lots of damage. 

Long story short, contractors mean Mexicans, and they are all.over. this building.  And lemme tell ya, nothing a Mexican brother loves more than a black girl thats tippin the scales.  Baaaaby….ya girl is what’s up around here today! I’m gettin’ big cheesy grins everywhere I go.   But, I’m not bragging.  I mean, really, what does it say about my life that I’m actually excited about getting cheers and jeers from the construction staff…….**sigh**

Jackson’s 97.7. I’ve changed.

Okay, earlier I said in this post that Jackson’s Hot 97.7 was some garbage.  You can go there to read why I said it.  Well, now I’m changing my position.  I don’t think it’s all around garbage now, I just think the aforementioned mishap is garbage.  Don’t get me wrong, I still want to jump out of the window everytime I hear the little high pitch, screechy, yelly, voice that is Tamara Cherie, or whoever.  Everytime I hear her say “YOUR entertainment news IN A MINute”, I just wanna hurl.  I think the thing about it is that she puts all the emphasis on the wrong words, and it makes the whole report sound stupid.  For example, a regular person would say “WHEW.  I’m ready to go to BED!” She would say “Whew. I’m READY to go TO bed.”  Oh well, I guess I can’t hope for perfection.

Anyhoo, I’ve been listening to 97.7, and Sunday’s are off the chain.  That NeoSoul show is da.truf.  Plus, on the way home from work, the only thing I have to cringe about is the entertainment news.  Throwback Thursdays are what??  Off.the.chain.  Aidan thought I was crazy when “Hey Little Mama, why you dance so fonky” came on one day.  And, in the morning, I can catch Ricky Smiley when Tom Joyner gets a little too old school for me.  Before now, I’d just switch to NPR.  Yeah, cause I’m smart like that. 

So, the station took it upon themselves to be more community friendly and socially responsible.  Really, you can’t complain about that.  The changes were good, the programming is better.  Now, if only we could do something about that Tamara Cherie…………

What say you, Jackson area residents?  What do you think about the “new” 97.7?

Put Me On, Ya’ll

There are several things I’d like to know about and I know some of you guys know.  So, help a sista out.

1.  Sex & The City.  The only episodes of this that I’ve ever seen have been the ones on TBS, and I’m not impressed.  However, I would like to go and see the movie.  Can someone tell me everything I need to know about SaTC before I go see the movie?

2.  Music.  Aidan is a parakeet, so I now need some kid friendly, but adult music.  Any suggestions (ahem…BRRAN)?  I’d like some NeoSoul or some Jazz.  Nothing that Aidan can repeat and have me at a(nother) parent conference.

3.  Snacks.  Since I’m doing no sugar now, I need snack assistance.  Generally, I go for snacks with sugar.  I bought some cinnamon brown sugar almonds the other day, they were good.  Hold up.  Cinnamon, brown sugar.  Awwww, dayum.  Here’s the deal, I don’t like yogurt, and I don’t like eating peanuts and stuff like that.  I already know about fruit.  So, any other recommendations?

That’ll be it, for now.  Thanks in advance!

The Slapfest

Aidan has been coming home from school telling me that this little boy has been hitting him.  So, in a three part series, I told him that when someone hits him, to hit them back.  Or if it was a girl, to push her down.  Tim was sitting there shaking his head, like “lawdhammercy.”  Then we practiced what he was supposed to do.  So, on the way to school the next day, we went over it again.  I gave him some words of wisdom, and sent him off to school.

Fast forward to a couple days later.  I have to sign an incident report because Aidan hit a kid.  AND I have to talk to the teacher.  Uh oh.  I ask Aidan what he did, he says he hit the kid.  The same kid.  I ask if he was hit first, he said yeah.  So, I was all like “high five!”  

Next day, meet with teacher. She tells me that the kid had a toy and Aidan wanted it, so he slapped Aidan and Aidan slapped him back.  That matches with Aidan’s version.  I say oh, okay. Unapologetic.  Then she goes on.  Aidan told her that his Dad (LOL) taught him how to hit kids back. And….wait for it….his mama said “Don’t be no punk!”  BWAHAHAHAHA.  I still fail to see how the teacher found absolutely no humor in that.

I.Will.Let.You.Know.

I have this friend.  Undoubtedly, our conversation always goes like this:

Her:  Hey!
Me: Hey, girl!
Her: How you been?
Me: Good, and you?
Her: Fine, girl. How’s Tim?
Me: He’s good.
Her: So, when are ya’ll getting married??? Any wedding bells??

WTF am I supposed to say on a weekly basis?

I swear to you all, I talk to her every week. We live in the same city, we have the same friends. So WHY does she feel the need to ask me this every single time I talk to her? It is officially getting on my nerves. Not just from her, but from regular people. Frankly, it’s just rude. Maybe I’m sensitive, but dangoneit, don’t ask me that ish NO.MO. What? Do I just look like I need to be married? Is there a wedding deadline that I don’t know about? Your presumptions about my relationship, where it should be, and where it is are just that. Presumptions. I.GOT.THIS. over here.

In fact, if you see a woman — any woman — and she does not wear a ring on the 4th finger of her left hand, it is a sign. It is safe to assume that she doesn’t know when she’s getting married. It is also safe to assume that you asking her repeatedly isn’t speeding up the process, and neither is it a boost to her self esteem.

So, here is my declaration. If and when I am ever getting married, I’ll let you know. Really, I won’t just run off and get married without any of you. So see, you don’t have to ask me anymore. Seriously, if I date the same person for the next 56 years, you don’t ever have to ask me again. Ever. Leave.me.the.hell.alone.

Update:  Um, I wrote this post fresh off of being asked the “When” question and, after sleeping on it, I realize that it may be a little hostile.  Well, I was kinda mad.  Don’t take it personal.  But still, don’t ask me.

The Reunion

I forgot to tell you guys!  This weekend was commencement weekend at my alma mater, Tougaloo College.  It was also our chapter’s 60th year reunion.  Yep, sixty years ago, the Gamma Psi Chapter of Delta Sigma Theta was founded.  The first chapter in the state, the first Greek letter organization on campus.  From the time I saw this, I started to feel the nostalgia.

Let me tell you, my Sorors came from near and far, and it was a weekend full of memories, but it’s people like this that make you keep it all in perspective.  This is from whence we came, these are the ladies that are still holding Delta down.  Some of them pledged in the 40s and they are coming back to pay homage to their chapter, to our chapter.  I hope they are proud of the legacy they created. 

We had a picnic, where I got to catch up with some old friends, and we had a brunch where I got to make some new friends.  

This is me and some of my line sisters clowning around at the picnic.  I hadn’t seen the first two of them in 15 years.  Good times, man.  And, one last thing.  At the brunch, this young lady came up to me and she told me that when someone asked her why she wanted to become a Delta, she told them it was because of the example of Delta that me and two of my line sisters showed her, just in our actions.  We tutored her when she was in Upward Bound. The summer of 1995.  Yeah, ya girl feels good knowing I brought at least one good Delta into the fold.

I could go on and on about the weekend, but I must say that it was one of the best I’ve had in a while.  There is one thing that I know, one thing that became clear to me this weekend, one desire that I have in my life.  One day, I’m going to be one of those Delta Dears, sitting in a lawn chair, watching how my legacy in Delta unfolded.  Man, I LOVE myself some Delta!!

G.P. for life, baby!!!

OO-OOP MY SORORS!!!!!!!!!!!  OO-OOP!

 

Happy Mother’s Day

 

That’s my mom and my son, the two reasons I celebrate Mother’s Day.  The two greatest reasons in this world.  Happy Mother’s Day everyone!