PSERENDIPITY

Dear Commenter “M” — you gotsta do better girl!  Speak on some stuff!

I was watching this show with the people with 18 kids and they said that they don’t believe in dancing.  Um…dancing is not a spirit or a god, how could you not believe in it?  The mom said that she has better things to do with her time than dance.  Ya think? 

I’ve been noticing on Facebook that people post a lot about food in their status updates.  Really, you’re about to cook a pot roast, mashed potatoes, fried okra and cornbread.  Then later on you’re going to get some pound cake.  Then at midnight you’re eating fried bologna.  How ’bout one that says “Going to the gym?”  

Is it wrong for me to want to shun my child’s fascination with gospel music?  Particularly the church choir?  On Sundays, I record them on my phone and I swear he listens to them round.the.clock.  I put all the songs on his MP3, and now I really want to hide that sommo ma……

Did ya’ll get that?

Another thing about Aidan — he hates sleep.  It’s his mortal enemy.

Another thing about Aidan.  He’s going to be a fireman for Halloween.  The thing he has done the most?  See how fast he can get into the costume.  I ring a bell, he jumps into the costume.  Hey…it’s just how we entertain ourselves here.  You never know when there might be an emergency and we need to get dressed quickly.  We’ll be ready.

Aidan is officially going to spend next weekend with Tim.  Alone.  For the first time.  Are you like me? Can you not wait on the blog post when Aidan comes home?  

Why is it that everytime I log into Facebook, a certain person pops up to chat with me.  Seriously, every.single.time.  Oh, how I hate that.  Isn’t there some chat etiquette, or some rule against chat-stalking?  There should be. 

Another thing about Aidan.  He wants a brother.  From the brother shelter. Poor kid, he just doesn’t get it.

Go ahead, air your incidentals in the comments.  And have a spooky weekend!

Yay!  I heart Christmas, and I’m getting ready already.  Lately, I’ve been in the spririt of giving — but I’ll tell you all about that later.  For now, I have an idea!!

I was thinking that I would love to do a giveaway at Christmas.  Then it hit me that I’d like to send my blog friends in my head a little happy.  Then THIS hit me!  We should totally do a blog Christmas.  A virtual Secret Santa!  Who’s down?

Here’s what you do:

1.  Put your name in the hat.  (That means let me know if you want to participate, either in the comments or via email.)

2.  I’ll give you a number.  Only you and I will know your number.  And I’ll let you know when to give me your address — privately.

3.  I’ll email you and ask you to pick a number that is NOT yours, you’ll pick the number, and I’ll tell you which blogger you’ve chosen.

4.  If you don’t read their blog already (you probably do), go check them out!  I’ll post a link to everyone who is participating.  I’m sorry, but to participate, you either need to be a blogger or a well-known commenter *coughTIHcough*.  We need some sort of body of work to go on.  Plus there are some trust issues…ya’ll know what I mean. 

5.  On December 14, you’ll mail them your Secret Blog Santa gift along with a clue about who you are.  Make sure that you read the blog to know who they are and what they like. 

6.  On December 22, we’ll all blog about what we got and who we think sent it, and I’ll do the big reveal here at The Dip. 

Make sense?  Sound good?  Who’s in?

Tim’s text: Baby, you’re my 5 star chic, except for some of your outfits. Guess that makes you my 4 1/2 star chic.
Me: Gee, thanks baby.
Tim: What? 4 1/2 stars is pretty good!
Me: Whatever.
Tim: Okay, 5 stars. I was just playing.
Me: You.are.so.lame.

Me: I know you did a lot of things with Paw Paw, but what did you do with Granny?
Aidan: Well…um….we did lots of things together!
Me: Like what? Take a bath, eat dinner, go to church?
Aidan: No, like take over the world. Me and Granny are some bad mamma jammas!

Tim’s text: I sold all but 5 candy bars on the first day. Who the man?
Me: The man would’ve sold all the candy bars on the first day.
Tim: Man, you’re a hater.
…later that week
Tim: Somebody cheated me out of money for my son. I’m supposed to have $55 from this candy, but I only have $50.
Me: Who the man?

Me:  Aidan, you have really been doing well on obeying lately!
Aidan: Thank you, Mama!
Me: Why have you been doing so good at your obeying!?  What is making you act so good?
Aidan: Daddy. That guy is a real problem.

I don’t know if many of you watch The Amazing Race, but I happen to like it.  As you may have gathered if you’ve ever watched an episode, teams travel around the world, and you have to complete these tasks and arrive at the finish line in order to stay in that leg of the race.  The last team there is out.

So, last night one of the challenges was going down a 6 story high waterslide.  To be sure, 6 stories would have definitely given me pause.  But did I mention that the prize for winning the race is a million dollars?  Yeah, press play now.  Imagine this:  you’re on the waterslide scared to death to go down.  Your partner tries to do everything within his power to get you to slide.  You’re the next to last team.  All you have to do is slide down this water slide, and you stay in the race.  But, you’re scared.

Then (cue the Harlem Globetrotter’s music here), here comes the last team.  The one you HAVE to beat to stay in the race.  The team was composed of Flight Time and Big Easy, two of the famous Harlem Globetrotters, and easily one of the most entertaining teams ever on The Amazing Race.  When the Globetrotter’s get there, you have two minutes to decide:  either slide, or move over and let them slide.  But if you move over, they will surely beat you.  But you’re scared.  Surely the Globetrotters wait on you to make your decision, and even maybe will give you a lilttle pep talk.

But one of them says…”If you’re scared, don’t go.  It’s a long way down!  Don’t hurt yourself.”  My thoughts:  BWAAAHAHAHAHA, this chic is getting trash talked on a waterslide.  Then I thought surely she would just throw caution to the wind and slide.  But she moved over, and ended any chance she had of winning a million dollars.  One.million.dollars.  Gone.  Over a water slide.

Here are the two things that I took away from that:  1.  Fear can ruin your dreams, and 2.  Do what you gotta do to win.  The Globetrotters did, and they won.  As soon as she moved from that waterslide, they were gone.  In less than 5 seconds they did what it had taken her probably about 30 minutes to even think about doing.  They knew what they had to do to win, they did it, they won.  And such is life.

I’ve heard people say that the fear of failure keeps them from doing things.  I really don’t understand that.  I can honestly say that there is nothing that I attempt to do that I start doing believing that I might fail.  And, I can’t think of many things that I’ve failed at doing.  honestly, I can’t even think of one thing I’ve failed at doing.  I truly believe that I can do anything.  And I’ll try most things because I believe that.  There will never be a time when somebody comes along, tells me that if I’m scared I shouldn’t try, and then I don’t.  I look them dead in the eye.  And I slide.

When I met Jemera, I didn’t really like her mom.  Listening to the things that Jemera told me made me think that, basically, she was just a woman who didn’t go anywhere or do anything or support her kids. 

Then one day Jemera had a school project and something went wrong.  So, she called her mom.  I was thinking “How in the world is she going to help.  And is she even going to care?”  But her mom took care of it.  She helped, and she cared.  Go figure. 

So, on one occassion I had to take Jemera something or other, but Jemera wasn’t there.  I ended up having a long talk with her mom.  Then I thought, “This lady isn’t so bad after all.  In fact, a lot of things she said made perfect sense.  Hmm, I think I like her.”  And I started talking to her more often.  And listening to her more often.  And in doing that I realized that some of the things I’d heard weren’t so true.  Go figure.

Now, Niecy is something else…don’t get me wrong.  She routinely curses and threatens you, but she’s harmless.   And hilarious.   She has 6 children, the youngest just turned one.  The oldest just turned 19.  Wow.  And I think she’s the same age as me.  Wow again.   She’s been married for about 12 years to Michael.  And all of her kids are named Michael.  Except the girl — Mikelle.  (I realize that’s not important to this story, it just fascinates me.)  And with the little that she has, she takes care of all of her children, and she lives and breathes to do just that.  And in many ways I admire her for that.

So, amid controversy with her eldest, Niecy and I became unlikely friends.  We both wanted the same things for Jemera and were at a dead end about how to get her to do it.  While we talked about that, we talked about her other kids.  I had already gotten to know them from going over there, and they were always the nicest, most mannerable kids.  And they liked me and Aidan, and Aidan loves playing with the boys.

So, every once in a while I  go sit on the porch and shoot the breeze with her and the kids while Aidan jumps off the steps and shows the boys games on my cell phone.  And Kelle runs around me screaming “SONYA!!’  And sometimes I’ll bring her doughnuts.  She loves Krispy Kreme but she’s never been there.  In fact, she’s never been anywhere, so she listens intently to my stories of going home to my Moms or to Memphis, or to anywhere.  When I told her we were moving, her feelings were genuinely hurt.  But she made me promise to “mail me letters ’cause I ain’t used all that computer mail sh*t.  The hell you got stamps for anyway if you ain’t gonna mail a d*mn letter?”  I don’t know, Niecy, I don’t know…. 

She has had such a different life from mine, but she has never complained about it.  And neither have her kids…well, except one.   As rambunctious as she is, she’s a survivor of a lot more than I think I could bear.  And she likes me just because she does.  She talks while I laugh and say “Niecy!  You can’t do that!  Don’t say that!”  She says I’m too politically correct.  And I like her just because I do.  I told her I was going to take her to New Orleans one day, and I’ll be doggone if she ain’t gonna make me live up to that promise.  And I know we’ll have the time of our lives.  Me and Niecy.

So, for all the drama I’ve encountered with Jemera, it’s been a blessing because I’ve made friends with Niecy.  Tim thinks that the reason Jemera came into my life was not because of her, but so that I could meet her mother.  And I think he might be right.

I let one of my coworkers review my paper….I had to delete it several times and try again because I posted to the wrong forum….This is not possible…..Can I submit another paper……Could you call me so we can try to figure this out? 

That’s what she said.  She tried to play me like that.  Okay, I’ll play along because apparently I’m stupid.  My response:

Student, I have no idea how this could have happened, either.  Sorry!  However, the report stated that 89% of your paper was taken from other papers submitted by previous students and that the paper was identical to one at www.studentoffortune.com, a site where students frequently purchase papers.  Now, I’m certainly not accusing you of anything, and since you have no idea what happened, I’ve submitted your paper to the academic violation team and perhaps they can help you figure it out.  Good luck with that.

She’s probably furious that I turned her in, but whatevs.  Tim told me that I shouldn’t take things like this so personally because this was not about me.  But, really, sometimes I can’t help it.  It’s tough when you want to see people succeed and get better and they just want to remain where they are.  Honestly, I was really feeling bad that the girl had cheated.  Can you imagine that?  Here I am thinking that I’ve been so harsh to the chic that she felt like she had to cheat to pass…

What am I thinking?  She never really cared, and I was falling for the okey doke.  If she had admitted what she did in the beginning, I probably would have given her some leeway.  Instead, she’s two weeks before her graduation, and now she’s been flagged.  And I really don’t care.

On to the next one.

Remember about two weeks ago, I talked about the student that said I was picking on her?  Well, she ended up calling me the next day and we talked for about 30 minutes.  I explained to her why I said the things I said and that I was really just trying to make her better.  She seemed to get it.  She came up with a solution to the problem, and I told her that if she ever needed extra help, I would give it to her.

And she was improving.  And I felt better about it.  For some reason, I just wanted her to be okay.  Then Sunday happened.

As I was grading the papers, I started on hers.  Then I thought to myself “I could swear I just read that somewhere…”  Sure enough, I’d read it on another students paper.  Print out both the papers, they’re exactly the same.  Word for word.  Exactly.  **Sigh**  I put a note in both of thier private forums:  “You have submitted a paper that is identical to one submitted by another student in the class.  Please explain how this could have occurred.”

Now, you think about it.  How could this have happened?  There’s only one possible way that two people on opposite ends of the country who don’t know each other can submit the exact same assignment.  So, I submit the papers to the faculty plagiarism checker, and sure enough it tells me exactly what happened.  Exactly where the papers came from. 

I have a response from both of the students.  The other student simply said “Ms. Wilson, I’m sorry.  This will not happen again.”  What do you think she said?

JB,

I would’ve posted a picture of you like I did for my man, but I can’t.  Why?  Because we didn’t get to see you.  I’ll just have you know that we bought tickets to your concert over two weeks ago.  Therefore, I’m sure you knew that you had a concert then, and what time it was, because we sure did. 

So, on Saturday morning we got up and drove all the way to Tunica, Mississippi to see your little act.  And Tim was happy.  He listened to Jon B. from the time he woke up.  And when we got there he even bought a new shirt at the outlet mall.  I had to get some new gear for your concert, too.  But, only because it was cold.  Not because I was excited.  And did I mention that we had to get a hotel room for the night?  And did I mention that the hotel was slap in the middle of a cotton field? 

So, there we were.  Fresh out of the cotton field in our new clothes headed out to see you.  Happy.  On our date night.  Well, maybe not really happy because Tim got a little angry with me because I wanted a hamburger.  But it was still date night.  Do you know how often we get to have date night, Jon B???  Do you???  Riiiiight.  NEVER.  And so we used this one on you.

So, we walk into Sams Town Casino ready to get our Jon B. on, and whaddaya know….Cancelled.  Say huh?  I bought tickets, drove three hours, bought new clothes, stayed in a cotton field, and almost got cussed out over a hamburger for you to cancel?  The look on Tim’s face made me sad.  He was really excited.  You jerk.

They say that you missed your flight, which is hard for me to believe.  I mean, really, I know when I have to be at work and I manage to make it here almost every day.  If I can be at my job on time and nobody is paying to see me, what’s your deal?  Plus, you did cancel that first concert in September.  Frankly, I don’t think you were ever going to come.  But, its okay.  No, really, it’s not okay.  There wasn’t anything else to do in Tunica, Mississippi on Saturday night.  There was a Kenny G concert at another casino, but we couldn’t even get into that. 

So, Jon B.  even though I loved your little They don’t know song, I’m going to have to remove you from the iPod.  I now have nothing but bad memories of the way you treated me and Tim and pissed on our date night.  And, overall, you really disappointed my baby.  You are officially a loserface.  You should be more like Eric.

Dear Eric,

Thank you for coming to Jackson last night.  I have been a fan of yours since your first album, True to Myself, in ‘96.  Yesterday I was all excited because I couldn’t wait to see you.  Although NerdGirl and I were fly-er than a strong 95% of the people in there, we couldn’t get front row seats due to a lady we shall name “Purple dreaded thunder” hogging up the front row with her whole family reunion.  I couldn’t talk NerdGirl into stealing anybody’s saved seats because she’s all scary like that and she was eating nachos, but if I could have, I would have been right there with you.  Anyway, we were close enough for you to see me, and that’s all that matters. 

I can’t believe that you came out on my absolutlely positively favorite jam, When You Think of Me.   That’s how I know it was meant to be.  Me and you were probably the only two who knew all the lyrics.  I’ll have to tell you one day about the time when I played that song on repeat in the car and Tim got jealous mad when he woke up.  Turns out, he’s even a hater in his sleep.  I only played it for, like, an hour.  But, oh well. 

Man!  Last night you sang some JAMS!!  Spend my Life With You, I Wanna be Loved, You’re the Only One, and Chocolate Legs.  You went all the way back to Spanish Fly, True to Myself, Spiritual Thang, and Femininity.  And thank you so much for doing Georgy Porgy for NerdGirl.  She was really disappointed when she thought she might not be able to hear it.

All in all, it was quite the lovely night.  You know I would come see you in concert again and again, right!?!     I would have even thrown you a dollar onstage for your birthday, but that wouldn’t have been right because I borrowed all my money from Tim.  Oh, and about that part at the end when I took off running up to the stage because I thought you might actually touch me….I regained composure halfway there and didn’t get close enough, but there was a moment when our eyes met and I know you wanted me.  It’s all good, I didn’t tell Tim. 

Thanks, Eric, for a wonderful night.  And have a Happy Birthday today!  I heart you.

P.S.  I lost an earring last night at the concert.  Please don’t show up at the house with it because Tim is there today and it might upset him.  When you find it, just bring it up to my job.  Then we can live happily ever after, like Cinderella and her R&B Prince should.  Thanks!

I keep thinking today is Thursday. 

My online classes are revolting against me.  I mean really, if I ask you a question and the answer can be found in your book, word for word, why the hell would you answer the question with your own opinion then be mad when it’s wrong.  When it’s wrong, you get zero points.  Why?  Cuz it wasn’t right!!

Tonight is Eric Benet.  Chocolate legs, baby, chocolate legs…

Tim is home with Aidan all day, and tonight he’s going to babysit Aidan and Lovegirl.  After this, he might wanna be paid.

Last night I made the most awesome creamed spinach.  But nobody liked it but me.  Well, Aidan said that he did like it, he just didn’t want to eat it right then.  Or ever.

Yesterday I also went to water aerobics.  When I got there, they handed me these weights made out of foam.  I was like “Really?  This is gonna be some mess.”  By the time I left, I could hardly feel my arms. Seriously, driving home became a real task.

Tim and I are going to see Jon B. this weekend.  Don’t judge us.

Aidan is going to hang out with his Granny and Paw Paw.  They’re going to take him to the fair.  This is because he wrote his very first letter and I mailed it to Granny.  The letter said “Granny,  Are you going to take me to the fair? Please.  Aidan.  Love.”  I told him he should write Dear Granny, but he looked at me like “chile please…I am not writing one.more.word.”

I am ready for Thanksgiving!  I’m planning my menu, but I have to cancel the creamed spinach. 

What’s up with ya’ll today?!