Saturday, December 19, 2009

Where Do You Fall?

The Georgia Nicolson series by Louise Rennison is probably one of my favorite book series (behind Harry Potter, of course and duh). The first book is called Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging. I think I'm a little behind, but the books I do own have me in stitches. Again, it's probably the British dry-humor thing. Anyway, the plucky (is there any other kind?) heroine, Georgia, is a little boy-crazy and spends the majority of the series trying to wrangle, maintain, and enjoy the attention of Robbie, who she names the Sex God. I heart her. Of the hilarious lingo and phrases in the book, which I've used myself--"life and soul of the party," for example--the one I love is the "Snogging Scale," kind of a girl's take on rounding the bases. For laughs:

1) holding hands
2) arm around
3) good-night kiss
4) kiss lasting over three minutes without a breath
5) open-mouth kissing
6) tongues
6.5) ear snogging
7) upper body fondling--outdoors
8) upper body fondling--indoors (in bed)
9) below waist activity (b.w.a)
10) the full monty

We should do a psychological version of it, i.e., meeting the parents, spending the night, give him the last piece of cake, etc. But other than that, is the list accurate? Leave anything out? Anything out of order?

Huh. I have never strolled down the street hand-in-hand with a boy, but I sure have dabbled in the six and above territory. What does that mean? How tarty of me...

Friday, December 18, 2009

I Bet He's the Smitten One This Time

Coming home for holiday break came at the best and worst time. Best because it's Christmas and worst because I'm missing about five games with NBA team. Ugh, I can't even think about it because I'm so worried about making a good impression at this internship and it's really easy to fuck things up. So yeah, there's that.

But also, I can't help but think I dodged a bullet with Que (if you haven't guessed he's the one from the party). Before any of it happened, we had a very teasing relationship. Afterward, I resumed the teasing as usual, maybe a little more than usual to protect myself/not give anything away. On my last day, he sat in the passenger seat of my car and said that I act differently when it's just the two of us. It seemed like he was trying to get me to admit to feelings or something, but I was stressed and cranky and I couldn't be bothered to giving an inch.

"I'm going home to take a nap."

"Want me to come take a nap with you?"

I did, but I didn't know how to ask without feeling stupid. He said he'd call me after he got a haircut but he didn't.

One thing I've realized is that I have walls up when it comes to men, both inside and out.

First I think it's because I don't trust men romantically. When you hang around and work with guys as much as I do you see the cavalier attitude with which they treat women. Not to say that all guys are liars even though they ARE, but I definitely recognize the need for a thick skin.

Also, and a little more based off of my experience, it just takes me a long time to admit to having feelings because I'm always the one with the hopeless crush, the unrequited love. Friends would always make jokes about me being totally smitten and call me thirsty with a hint of desperate. And that takes a lot out of a girl, ya know? The affair with The Smoker left me kind of scarred as well, showed me the downside of giving too much, investing too much in a boy. Once bitten, right? So I need the guy to jump first. In Que's case (whether I have feelings for him or not other than lusty ones), I feel like he's trying to case the situation and see if I'm going to slip up and say "Uncle!" to the tune of "Yes I have feelings for you," or, probably more accurately "Yes I can't stop thinking about that night come over and let's make lurrrrrrvveeee." Aha! That's what triggered his frustration in the car, methinks, when I said if he came over there would be no actual, technical, fucking.

Because as he got out of the car he said, "You know the deal. You know I want you."

Color me perplexed. I almost yelled "What do you mean 'want'? You want to sleep with me? You want to really, like, date me because I have won you over with my glasses and humor and gossipy ways? WHAT?" But I didn't want to be that shrew who over-analyzes everything. Even though in this case I should have been.

Seeing everything all spelled out like this makes me think, eh, it was a one TWO time thing and we're better off being friends/coworkers/partners in crime. Who maybe fool around occasionally? NO. But damn it's been a long time since I've had some nookie...I mean, once I get back maybe we could...NO. Right?

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Of course...

The thoughts have rolled in...

They made out in a freezing parking lot, his bold hands cupping her ass, her shoulders nestled against his chest, underneath his coat.

"What are we going to do?" she sighed against his neck. "It doesn't matter. You don't want me. I'm fraught with issues..."

"I don't care." He teasingly, urgently thrust his hardness against her clothes softness and watched her eyes flutter. "I can't wait to fuck you..."

We're not going to sleep together (well, not technically, I suppose. We'll see...). Tomorrow I leave Southern state for holiday break. Uncomplicated is key. He has a harem of women. I'm waiting until I get in a real relationship.

But my bed still smells of him...

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The Party

She took the cup out of his hand and tipped up his drooping chin, her eyes twinkling with liquor-tinged mirth.

"Come on," she whispered, magically audible over the pulsing music. "You can have the spare bedroom."

He nodded, his heavy-lidded eyes barely focused on her...

a minute later

"Technically we're in bed together," she giggled, her knees almost touching his reclined chest. His hand snaked lazily up her back, and she didn't mind.

a minute later

"We're fine, we're just talking, see you in a second."

She closed the door on her inquiring friend and scampered back to the bed. After barely a pause, she slid a knee over his hard waist, her position granting his hands rein under a soft shirt and over silky thighs and warm stomach. She enjoyed the perch, feeling his barely-contained lust pulsate beneath her. But with awakening lust came a twinge of conscience.

"We work together," she sighed, trying to detract his hands. He stopped her, reclining and linking her fingers in his. His supine position urged her to grind her hips lazily against him. Loving his pained expression and his tortured grip tightening, she giggled again as she mimicked the act of love.

Veiled with the heady power of seduction, she sought to tempt him even more. She wanted to know; sweetly demanded him to tell her how he thought about her, how she made him feel, how badly he wanted her right here, right now...

"I watch those legs..." "You're so fucking sexy..." "Come here..."

His words alone sent hot waves of sensation coursing through her body, even though the back of her mind forbade her to give in. He rose up to kiss her, but she pushed him back down.

"We can't. Oh, we can't..." He broke away from her desire-loosened grip and finally overpowered her. Her supple neck beckoned his hungry mouth, and he answered it greedily.

She whimpered his name, defeated, her legs anchoring around his torso as desire wound her core tighter and tighter.

Her reaction aroused, but didn't surprise him. He'd always suspected a fire smoldering under her sophisticated charm, and he wanted nothing more than to stroke that fire into explosion. Emboldened, he nuzzled out of his way the delicate necklace lying between her breasts and inhaled her sweetness, almost tasting her accelerating heartbeat.

"Oh, my God," she murmured. Murmurs became gasps as his mouth moved closer to the tight bud...

Someone knocked on the bedroom door, the sound ripping through the silence like a fist busting through glass.

Running her hands through her mussed hair, she took a deep breath. "Ye--yes?"

a minute later

She locked the front door of her house after the last of the party guests, then tiptoed through the house and back upstairs into the spare room's bright lights. Walking over to him, she tugged at his shirt, beckoning him to her own dimly-lit bedroom.

"Come on..."

Monday, December 7, 2009

I'm Coming

Metaphorically speaking.

Finals week is upon me, and I'm afraid fun and smutty writing will have to take a backseat to the many, many pages of academic writing that must be completed.

But my intended smut will be worth it! Well, I hope. I've never (intentionally) written a post like the one I want to write. Partly because I wouldn't have much to write about (dry spell. Well, dry life), my private nature, and the idea of writing about dirty times scaring/embarrassing me a little. So we'll see, shall we? I'll probably enjoy it because that would mean I'd have to recount every delicious detail of what happened. For the sake of the writing of course. The wondering and the afterthoughts and the need for advice will probably follow (you know me), but first we'll focus on the good...

Thursday, November 26, 2009


This one's dedicated to my darling Amy, (whose HNT is SOO much better than mine but it's ok)

"Her sister's dark/but she is/sho'nuff pretty/Her skirt is short/but Lord/Her legs are sturdy" ("Living for the City," Stevie Wonder)
Can y'all guess which one's me? Haha, a happy HNT. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my legs ;-)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Purple Rain

I think I may be in love.
Yes. Love may be the word. Speechless. I think I will, thanks.

My Ipod is making a mockery of me, with all its free space and such! I spent all weekend putting new songs on Itunes, and it's barely 1/30 full. I heart it though.

I'm slowly making my way back to blogging. I get some free time soon (Thanksgiving, huzzah!) which I will do my best to fill with telling y'all about my couch-sitting, nail-polishing, homework-avoiding, basketball-watching adventures. Also, a HNT to get back into your good graces. I'm sure you can't wait.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Wet Wednesday/Half-Naked Thursday

Typical. I come back after being away just to fill your minds with smut. Well, let's get on with it then.

I had recommended Usher's "Trading Places" video for the hotness factor, and two years later, I have a replacement. Or at least, an addition to the queue.

Trey Songz's video for "I Invented Sex" is, simply put, a whole lotta WIN. It makes me want to do bad, bad things. That's why I like it. Enjoy.

FYI: My 21st birthday is finally around the corner! On which I will be doing...nothing. I have to work. So at least I'll be at a basketball game, which, truth be told, is what I'd have wanted to do anyway. The chances of that happening, since none of my friends like basketball, would have been slim to none, but alas, dreams do come true.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Backstage Escapades

Hey kids.

I finally have a new comp, but I've been busy as hell so my updates still might be few and far between. Don't abandon me. I feel like good stuff is right around the corner and you won't want to have to jump back and re-read little tidbits when the juicy stuff starts, right? Right.

Note: I feel like my words are boring already! I haven't written in awhile so bear with me.

I started my internship with NBA team, and it's...different than the WNBA, that's for sure. Besides the players being men, I mean. Everything's a little more high-paced, a little more secure, a little more intense. But the food is better.

There is another intern, we'll call him Que (because he is one). We get along pretty well, sometimes he's a little slooooooww-moving for my taste but he's cool.

Know what I look forward to, nay, relish? GROUPIES. Yes, the stuff Billie Jeans are made of! The team had a fan event today, actually, open to the public, and yes, there were a few in the bunch. This one girl had her boobs out distracting everyone from her fug face and a long weave; I noticed her quietly flirting with one of the guys. I saw them out of my peripheral vision, and my gossip radar kicked into high gear, honey. She was spittin' game and he was reciprocating, and yes, contact info was exchanged. This woman wrote down her contact info for everything: I'm talking address, email, phone numbers...I witnessed a proverbial groupie exchange with mine own four eyes. Now, I'm sure the players don't follow through on every number that they get, but still. These people are thirsty, Lord.

You know what I did the first chance I got. Scampered over to Que and spilled all the tea.*

*Tea: Noun. Means gossip, news, or current situation (Girl, what's your tea? or I got some tea you won't believe!)

This all leads me to another point (y'all know I have an issue about everything). I don't condone desperation or outright gold-digging, and a lot of the time I can't believe players fall for this stuff (well, they're just looking for a good time. It's the girls who want more). But still, watching players or guys in general fall over these pretty yet fake women eventually takes a toll on the old ego. Not saying I expected anything (I'm in this business because I like sports, not because I'm looking for a husband, obvs) but it's you're invisible. I can't explain it without sounding like I want something from these guys, but...hmm...those girls make regular girls like me look frumpy and fug. There, I said it.

I HAVE ISSUES I KNOW. They don't cover this in the internship handbook because it's so taboo and I don't want to ask because players' "love lives" are unspoken and very few peoples' business. Plus, most of the workers are middle-aged white men. I'd like to find someone, a young attractive black female who works in sports. I have questions.

All that aside, though, this is a great gig. Fun, and Que and I have become adept at finagling free stuff. It's an art.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Fall is Here!

I love me some autumn. My birthday is in November, along with homecoming, trips to the cider mill, changing leaves, and best of all, the following:

Naps-nothing better than coming in from the cold, bundling up in sweatpants and furry socks, fixing a snacky-snack, and falling asleep in front of the TV, mid-afternoon. Absolutely nothing. The fact that I'm super-busy come fall and rarely have time to do this make it even sweeter.

Sports-Playoff baseball is actually the only kind I watch (Go Dodgers), but the NBA is my first love. Followed by college football, que claro. After around Halloween, there's pretty much always a game of either persuasion. And if I wake up kinda late, and I can just turn on the TV and let the lull of the Florida Gators or LA Lakers rouse my into consciousness. Like watching by osmosis.

Fall fashion-Ugg boots! Peacoats! Scarves! Flannel shirts! Layers of lovely clothes make me happy and keep me nice and toasty. Yummm and hot chocolate.

TV shows-a lot of my fall happiness rests on what's on TV, it seems. Alls I know is that the return of Gossip Girl, Grey's Anatomy, the Office and One Tree Hill (if it stops being dumb) equals a whole lotta WIN.

Cuddling-what better way to watch aforementioned TV and ward off said cold than with some good old fashioned body heat? It is a fact that men are warmer because they have more muscle mass which raises body temperature. I'm just trying to cut down on my heat bill, is all I'm saying.

Plus, fall backwards--more sleep! Amen.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009


Speak of the fineness and he doth appear.

Walking to class and him and his brother were walking on the other side of the grass median. He was just strolling around, being beautiful.

So what did I say? Um, that would be nothing. Unless fidgeting with my sleeve and flipping my hair counts as speech. Secretly I don't think he actually noticed me--he was also messing with his phone.

Maybe if it had been just him I would have said something (no idea what!) But yeah. Just to give you an idea of the psychoses I'm dealing with when it comes to him/cute boys in general. Not pretty. Eek I'm embarrassing myself! Le sigh despite not having any interaction though, I can't complain...but not for long I'm gonna have to move my arse soon...

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


For ONCE, it's not my fault. I have, for ONCE, a good reason not to blog. If there was ever a time to use the "this can't be life" tag, this would be it.

I was robbed. Um, twice.

The first time, someone kicked open my door and stole just about everything a) valuable, 2) sentimental, 3) that makes my life convenient and manageable. These things include Blackberry Curve (the second one I've lost for those counting at home), my LAPTOP, car keys, purse (the 2nd best knockoff I ownded) wallet, backpack (I had to buy a new Spanish book) and downstairs stuff.

They left my TV and DVD player, though.

And get this, this past weekend, someone broke into Cali Girl's trunk while we were at a club and stole our purses. Including the purple bag my mom bought me from NYC (Chinatown--the best knockoff I owned) and my new debit card and spare car key that I'd just gotten--to replace THE ONES STOLEN THE FIRST FUCKING TIME AROUND.

This shit is for the birds. I'm okay, I guess, past being scared and onto irritated. Because who gets robbed twice? Oh, yeah, the first time, I was in the house, sleeping way late, while degenerate asshole burglars cleaned me out. Basically, a something (work with me here) told me to stay under the covers, perfectly still. Yes, I think it was my instinct/gut/God trying to save my arse from something worse than losing all my stuff.

Let's not talk about it. Although I have to say what pisses me off way more than I thought was that my makeup bag was in my bag. Not only do you want my money but you want me to look busted in the process? The nerve.

When I get a new comp I shall update yall more about the happier stuff, like my new internship with an NBA team, my cousin's wedding, and my current crush. Stay tuned for that last one. I need all forces at the ready 'cause he is, to put it mildly, A VISION. A spectacle of football player, big-noseosity, and LUST.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Begging for Forgiveness and Groveling for Advice

Would you rather have bad, boring sex, or none at all? Because my life has been SO, SO dull as of late that I often find it pointless to come here and regale you with my tales of going to class, going to Paper meetings, and going home. But if not posting often enough like I've been doing means that y'all will hate me forever and ever then I will surely come up with the bloggerly equivalent of groveling to keep ya around. So like I said, would you rather have boring sex or none at all? Pretend that I am sex. Huzzah.

Update: ok ok there is a boy that I have a gi-HUGE-ant crush on but I've only seen him twice in person and a million times through Facebook stalking like when he's on the sidelines at football games (in his football uniform, not like cheerleading. Don't play me.) and I happen to be on the track covering the game for the Paper. But he is a vision. Trust me. So what do I do? Lurk around campus, hoping to see him? Then what? I know it's real stank of me to be away for so long and then pump you with advice when I come back but I am desperate and you all are kind and well-versed in seduction. And don't turn into mush when you see a beautiful boy. So help me. Plus, if by some miracle we start something I will have PLENTY of dating shenanigans to document on this here blog! So everybody wins.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

My Reputation Preceeds Me

On the phone with an interview subject:

Him: "I look forward to meeting you."

Me: "Um, we've already met. I'm a friend of Top Chef's.

Him: "Oh, wait, I know you, the girl with the glasses!"

Warms my heart. That's my favorite description of myself, by the way. Hence the title!

Saturday, August 29, 2009

'Cause This IS Thriller

I WILL be blasting his music all day.

Since I have a stupid workshop for The Paper all day tomorrow, I'll make this quick.

Happy 51st birthday, Michael Joseph Jackson. I love you. Always have, always will. Your music has been the soundtrack throughout many memorable moments in my life, and I am forever grateful that you shared your remarkable gift with the world. You are the ultimate Thriller!

"But they say/The sky's the limit/And to me that's really true/But my friends you aint seen nothin/Just wait 'til I get through"

If I post nothing else today (and I might because as of yesterday I kinda like this boy) I had to get out one of my legendary birthday tributes to my favorite artist, the late, great, Michael Jackson.


Sunday, August 23, 2009

Mister 81 Turns 31

Yum, yum. Today is the Kobe Bryant's, aka the Black Mamba, aka my crush to end all crushes, 31st birthday. What else is there to say? Y'all all know I how I celebrate the birthdays of those I stan for so...Happy birthday boo! (LOL. But for real though. He is a vision.)

Simply scrumptious.

On a even happier note, I'm currently putting the finishing touches on my schedule for my senior year of undergrad! *Butterflies*

Old Fling

Lord. Third day in Southern State, at a drunken 21st already. A friend of Top Chef (well mine too) is having his birthday. Currently en route to impromptu bowling jaunt with a bunch of half-drunk (some all-drunk) college students. Guess who is here. Science Guy, and the one, the only, The Runner. Double !!, a glass of WTF?, and a side order of a humorous are you kidding?. And yes he's been all over me. Asking me if I'm "still mad at him." From what, you ask? For walking out of his room and ceasing to talk to him. This occurred February of SOPHOMORE year, mind. Which later became the year of The Smoker. So suffice it to say, the Runner wasn't quite on my mind until I walked into tonight's shindig. And doubly suffice it to say, I had no answer. It would have only been more awkward had I not been tipsy. I really don't anticipate starting something with the Runner, it was just a weird blast from le past. But if I had to recycle an ex-fling, not quite sure it'd be the Runner. He'd be on the list I GUESS, but I really have no thoughts about him. Ah well. I'll hopefully have more to report after tonight's affair. If these drunken imbeciles ever get us to the bowling alley.

*2 seconds later*
Ok I came back. What if it was different this time? We did have a lot of fun together...

*4 Seconds later*
Stop! This is a mind-cycle that will become vicious if I ever put it into fruition. And we know I can put stuff into fruition, especially when I completely shouldn't.

*8 Seconds later*
OMG I'm reading soo much into this and it's only been a few hours. I need to chillax. Y'all pray for me.

*Like 30 min later*
I'm sitting shotgun in his car and he's writing down directions. He's left-handed. Aw.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

It's a Tuba Thang, Shawty, and other Cinematic Adventures

*The tuba quote is from "Drumline." Another one: "I don't know what the beef is between you two is but you better grill it up and eat it."

Several blogs have done this and I always say to myself, "Self, you should post your favorite movie quotes on your own blog." But then the Self and I get very busy with things like dropping my sister off to college in D.C. and ending my internships and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and B. Scott and I forget. But. BUT! Today is the day. I have one day before going back to school, so in the meantime, while I sit on the couch like a bum in sweatpants, here are some fave movie quotes:

And I'm drawing a blank. Hold on, hold on, let me think...ah, ok!
Legally Blonde
-Take my lucky scrunchie. It helped me pass Spanish.
-You passed Spanish 'cause you gave Professor Montoya a lap-dance after finals.
-Yeah. Luckily.

-Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't shoot their husbands. They just don't.

Remember the Titans
-I'm not Martin Luther King, Jesus Christ, Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. I'm just a football coach.

-Gary, if you want to play on this football team, you answer me when I ask you who is your daddy? Who's your daddy, Gary? Who's your daddy?

-All right, now, I don't want them to gain another yard! You blitz... all... night! If they cross the line of scrimmage, I'm gonna take every last one of you out! You make sure they remember, forever, the night they played the Titans!

-Let me tell you somthing: you don't let anyone come between us. Nothing tears us apart. In Greek mythology, the Titans were greater even than the gods. They ruled their universe with absolute power. Well that football field out there, that's our universe. Let's rule it like titans.

-You're overcookin' my grits, Coach.

I don't even know why I'm listening to you anyway. You're a virgin who can't drive.

--That was way harsh, Tai.

Would you look at that body language? Legs crossed towards each other. That is an unequivocal sex invite.

Need I remind you that it does not say RSVP on the Statue of Liberty?!

My man is satisfied, he's got no cause for complaint. But technically, I am a virgin. You know what I mean.

Note: Ok, sorry, went on a Clueless rampage for a second there. Will continue with other movies now.

-Bren! You's a dick!

-I'm already pregnant, what other shenanigans could I possibly get into?

-Anyway dude, I'm telling you I'm pregnant and you're acting shockingly cavalier.

-(on the phone) Wait, what? Sorry, I'm on my hamburger phone...

Two Can Play That Game
-Ok, every girl's got a little bit of ho in them. But Connie? She's a different kind of ho. She's a lay-on-her-back, do-whatever-it-takes-to-get-your-man, kinda ho. I don't know how she got that big executive job, but three months after she got hired, her boss got a divorce. You make the call.

-Show no signs of weakness. Men only understand strength.

-Men. Why do you let your girl come over and bust all your shit up? That don't make no sense. Fellas, when you're doing your dirt, go over her house. That way, when she gets mad, she can bust up all of her shit, and then you can go home.

Also, any quotes from Anchorman, Wedding Crashers, the Kings of Comedy, or Mean Girls will suffice. Ah, movies. Where knowledge and lifelong quotables happen.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Little Moments

Hi, Contentment, I've missed you!

Sitting in my car at the airport, waiting for the rental car for tomorrow's road trip. I'm staring into the sunset over the parking lot, Michael Jackson's on the CD player, and I have some McDonald's sweet tea.

I love looking up and realizing the existence of simple happiness and satisfaction. I love when it comes out of nowhere and I'm cognizant enough to recognize and enjoy it. Like right now. Right now, everything's ok.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

I'm Back for a Bit

Hi folks
Don't hate me. Been busy as all get-out, but of course I thought about yall all the time. My internship at the arena ends tomorrow (sads) but I'm sooo glad for a break. Well, a one-day break 'cause we leave for DC to drop my sister off on Friday! Can't wait. Hopefully when things settle down I'll have more time and subject matter to write about...

Have you ever felt invisible? Sometimes I feel like there's a muzzle on me, whether I put it on myself or feel like it's being thrust upon me, at times I feel as if no one wants to listen to me, or worse, I have nothing to say.

On another note, I freaking love I spend hours on there laughing and educating myself. Love. Also, my blogroll is getting kinda stale. Any funny/insightful ones I should know about? Yall know my style.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Nickel and Dimed

Get ready, I'm about to let loose.

Basically, I was promised the master bedroom way back in April and Roommate is giving it to someone else. And I'll have to--horror of horrors--share a bathroom. Roommate will be gone, and I will be "property manager" since I was there last year. Oh, gee, thanks, I get the none of the benefits but all of the work.

I'm definitely moving out. It's unfair, especially because we didn't need an additional roommate in the first place, Roommate just wanted one for "lowered rent." And I guess the girl preferred the Master and was unwilling to give it up. Even though by the time Roommate contacted her the master was already taken--BY ME. WHAT THE FUCK?? I can't share a bathroom. I just cannot. And besides that, it's the principle of the whole situation. I'm throwing shade at this new girl. Who the FUCK does she think she is?? Which is precisely what I will be asking her on this conference call this weekend. Best believe I'm calling Roommate first to get some fucking answers.


Yeah, that about sums it up.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Songs By Which to Live and Love

Let the listing continue. I took a loooooonnnggg nap today, which I haven't done in forever, and it did me a world of good. Except now I'm awake.

Top Love Songs

1. So Amazing--Luther Vandross
2. (There Is) No Greater Love--Amy Winehouse
3. I'll Be There--the Jackson 5
4. Lady in My Life--Michael Jackson
5. Just My Imagination--the Temptations

Top Love Lost Songs

1. Love Don't Love Nobody--the Spinners
2. Silly--Denise Williams
3. She's Out of My Life--Michael Jackson
4. Hello, I Need You--Michelle Featherstone
5. Light Years Away--MoZella
6. I'm Gonna Find Another You--John Mayer
7. A House is Not a Home--Luther Vandross

Top "F*ck That A**hole" Songs

1. Before He Cheats--Carrie Underwood
2. Irreplaceable--Beyonce
3. Hate (I Really Don't Like You)
4. U Don't Have To Call--Usher
5. Womanizer--Britney Spears

Monday, July 27, 2009

Five Random Thoughts About Me

Because I'm feeling self-aware:

1. I hate losing things. It grates on my nerves and keeps me up at night when I've misplaced something. I will tear my house/car/dorm upside down, and if I still can't find whatever it is, I will seriously question everybody nonstop until it turns up. Sometimes it works, sometimes I have to suck it up and just buy a new Fall Out Boy CD. Even years later, I'm like, but seriously, I wonder what happened to that sweatshirt/necklace/picture?

2. Despite lots of evidence to the contrary (ha), I really think I'd make a good girlfriend, or dare I say, wife? Not for awhile on that second one, but people always say to me, "I honestly don't know why you're single!" Yuk yuk yuk. Irony aside, I like to imagine that I'm the sort of girl you'd want your brother to date. Anyone got a brother???

3. My favorite music video is "Bad" by (surprise, surprise), Michael Jackson. The dancing is intensely impeccable, it's a fun video, and I always thought MJ looked sooo sexy in it, with his all-black, chained-up outfit, and Jheri curl! Second place? Smooth Criminal--the ensemble dance after the chorus is my favorite part. Oh, I could go on and on...

4. I'm terrified of sinkholes. Utterly and completely terrified of them.

5. Most people find tardiness tantamount to the highest level of uncouth behavior, but I don't mind it because I'm always five minutes late myself. Well, I don't mind up til ten minutes. Anything after that without a phone call is, indeed, rude.

Anyone else have random minutia about themselves?

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Lessons Not Always Learned

I still get seriously pensive in the shower.

About the same subject: friendship, expectations, etc. This time I was semi-productive and thought of a question. There are life lessons we learn early and stick to them, and then there are those that no matter what, still have to be beaten into our heads. Time and time again, the root of our problem goes back to the same adage we know but for some reason never live up to.

I'm curious to know you guys' lessons yet-to-be-learned. The one I have to repeatedly tell myself? If someone wants to walk out of your life, let them go. Don't chase anybody or wait for someone else to validate your relationship. Especially if you've been the best person you know how to be or have done as much as you can to stay with or around that person. And somehow always end up on the defensive when it all comes crashing down.

It is very hard for me to cut people out of my life. I like to give the benefit of the doubt. I harbor the thought that one day things will be normal and balanced and open so there's no need to be premature we can just wait it out.

I don't like to cut people out myself, but in certain cases people walk out or disqualify themselves by their own actions. If I could hold people accountable I'd let people walk out and stay there, but I'm not quite there yet. In my head it's still a process of figuring out where to place people in my life who have the potential to hurt me. I guess the question remains, though, do those people even have a place at all? It is always all or nothing? A middle ground?

Monday, July 20, 2009

Bridezillas Explored

Did anybody see Bridezillas on Sunday? With Karee from Madison, WI? Who was by all accounts--eyewitness and Twitter-wise--an evil bitch with a bad weave? So many thoughts ran through my head.

-These women are lashing out at everyone because they're totally insecure about their upcoming nuptials/their relationships/their situation. Case in point: I guess Karee got her dress for a song and a dance and it showed because she sewed crystals on it for a "Vera Wang" look. When she realized that it still looked cheap, you could see the embarrassment on her face that she had to get married in that travesty. So what does she do? Yell at her poor friend. Same thing with the place cards. She picked them out and she knew they looked like shit so she complained about them. Bitch, accept your lot in life!

-Do these women ever realize that since they're the only ones making the decisions, when the finished product comes out looking stupid they really have only themselves to blame? Karee, you picked out the chocolates without tasting them and told your poor fiancee to get a bagful. Now you're the shmuck stuck with the ass-tasting truffles. Them's the breaks.

-Most to all of the weddings look tacky as hell. From the dresses to the venue, these affairs are usually an all-around fail, highlighted even more by...

-The tiny guess list! These weddings are attended by a sad, scant number of folks. Why? Because these bitches are mean. They have no friends. Just the scared few who are in the wedding (and even those folks are quick to drop out at the bride's shenanigans). Everyone else they've ever met has run away screaming.

-This can't be real.

-She is really mean. Why don't these men leave these horrid women? Obviously they have seen these women's inner and outer bitches and still want to marry them. But why? Is the P that good?

-Does Bridezillas have "Where Are They Now?" specials? I bet half these marriages fizzled. I wonder if any of these women feel badly for their behavior. Probably not.

-Is she really treating her future mother-in-law that way? Is this woman really taking it? Heidi is scared of Karee that's why. I hate unappreciative people. That box did look kinda busted though, on the real. Still, it's the thought that counts! I wouldn't have bought her ass nothing, let alone made something...

I tell ya. And this girl was 20. I'm 20. This busted mean-ass girl found a man willing to marry her. What is this world coming to? Is a woman acting like a "Bridezilla" reason enough to call off the wedding? Methinks so, but that's 'cause I can't stand mean people--these women deserve to be alone unhappy. Thoughts?

Lucky the Lumberer

Like Rosie the Riveter, except not.


What is it about fixing your own computer, internet or cable that feels so damn good?

Was about to throw computer out the window, situation thankfully diffused. Google is the best.

New query, though. For some reason, when I get emails from a listserv on my Blackberry, they start like five lines down. It's like a pebble in my shoe; not huge but oh-so-irritating. Also when I hit "stop" on my DVD player instead of stopping it goes back to the beginning instead of just stopping like I instructed. I watch Grey's Anatomy every morning while getting ready for work and a week passed before I realized I was watching George fall down the stairs and break his arm YET AGAIN.

It is vair vair annoying.

I hate when stuff doesn't work properly. Even if it's something small like the aforementioned scenario (I could just keep hitting fast forward), it's the principle of the matter (why should I have to keep hitting fast forward?!). Am I right or am I right?

Tell me I am not alone. What seemingly little things bother you (about technology or otherwise)?

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Founded Fountains

Feeling kinda cranky today, yall :-( also, at work typing on my Blackberry so things are a little cramped...

I'm a rather passionate person. You could say emotional, I suppose, but I'm fairly even-keeled. However, there was a time in Lucky's youth where she was shy, sensitive, and prone to tears with the right provocation. Now, despite the, ahem, outgoing-ness (loudness), at my core I'm still the shy, quiet sixth grader who'd curl up with a book all afternoon.

Crying, on the other hand, is something I rarely do. But in remembrance of those early days, let me say this: I hate, loathe, and abhor when someone admonishes a teary person to "Stop crying." Screw you, I'll cry if I want to! (Wkcite Leslie Gore, 1963)

Seriously. Different things set people off, and just because I'm not moved to tears by something doesn't give me the right inflict that onto someone else! Not talking about kids crying or people dramatically fake-sobbing, but real tears over something.

"Don't cry" is kind of in the same vein, but people say that a little kinder. Still, it's the principle, methinks. So the next time someone's sobbing over a TV show or whatever, be a good Samaritan and hand them a tissue.

Do it for me.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Pardon the Interruption

Don't mind me, I had to try out the "strikeout" html code which I have trying to figure out forever while I'm watching B. Scott on YouTube getting ready for bed.

Hang on... *hits "Publish Post" and crosses fingers*

Ahhhh yay it worked! Oh, the things I will say without saying. Now all I need is a new template and this blog will be well on its way to a due intervention.

You've been warned Stay Tuned!

Today I forgot to take my phone off of "silent" after barely escaping the boringest job ever work, and later on I noticed somebody had been blowing my little Blackberry up. I then received this text (verbatim): "yo is this old girl from the dollar store?" Er, what? I started mentally backtracking ("did I meet anyone in the dollar store? Wait, when's the last time I've been to a dollar store?") and just called the guy. He asked me if I was, indeed, the girl he met at some random store. "Nope, sorry." He apologized, but then I could tell he was weighing his options on whether or not trying to holler at me would earn him an epic curse-out. I saved him the trouble with a "Yeah, not me. Sorry. Have a nice day." Click.

I got off the phone laughing. That dude got played in a major way. And damn she must have been fine too enough for him to call twice and send a text. And this fool had the nerve to call again, after I told him I wasn't her!

I tell ya, it's a jungle out there.

Ahead of the (Dangerous) Curves

Ahaha, not a deadbeat today! Not only was I at work on time (well ok I arrived at my cubicle at 9:01) but I've already done a Half Naked Thursday!!!

On Tuesday. Scroll down now. There's a good lad.

In other news, I need to find a roommate for next year. Like now. Let's not talk about it...

Hope you're all having a super day! XOXO, Gossip Girl

Just kidding, it's me, Lucky :-)

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

On the Subject of Michael

I watched the Michael Jackson memorial all day** and I'm damn proud of it.

**as best I could, I was at work. But I saw pretty much the whole thing.

I (somewhat) pity the people who let rumors, lies, and con artists help tear this man down. Being the huge superfan that I am, ordinarily I would love the coverage on MJ, but the reason for it makes it the total opposite. I'd completely trade constant coverage if it meant he was around somewhere, hanging out with his kids.

Also not afraid to say that if you talk shit about the King of Pop--now--I like you a teeny bit less. It is what it be.

Sorry I'm on a bit of a rant, it's been a long few weeks. MJ for life.

Half-Naked Tuesday: Lovely Opposites

On a posting roll today. Been neglecting the past few HNTs, decided to make up for it. Late nights agree with me, I think.

I can never decide which is more fun: being the loyal, sensible one who keeps him in line or the naughty one who tempts his straitlaced nature unbearably.

Hmm, how about the smart cheeky one, who reads, goes to parties, and is the love of his life? Sounds good.
Happy (bonus) HNT!

Monday, July 6, 2009


1. Who was your first prom date?

BFF and Sports Fan (and their respective dates)

2. Do you still talk to your FIRST love?

Um, I still watch the Pistons and listen to Michael Jackson, so yes. The first guy I had a crush on is in jail last I heard. I really know how to pick 'em!

3. What was your first alcoholic drink?

Tequila. Sophomore year in college. The start of a long and beautiful relationship

4. What was your first job?

A Sylvan Learning Center-type deal. My boss was this Chinese lady and our company logo was this weird smiley-face that had more of a frown than an actual smile. Which was so fitting.

5. What was your first car?

Burgundy Honda Accord named Henrietta.

6. Who was the first person to text you today?

Cali Girl in all her craziness.

7. Who is the first person you thought of this morning?

Sex, if that can be a person.

8. Who was your first grade teacher?

Mrs. Merritt

9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?

Walt Disney World of course! Oh no wait, we went to Atlanta when I was a baby. So I've heard.

10. Who was your first best friend & do you still talk?

The farthest back I can remember is K, from 3rd grade to about 9th grade. Her dad was a local newscaster and her grandpa a famous mayor. She'd be so embarrassed when people made a big deal when he'd be in the audience at our choir concerts and stuff.

11. Where was your first sleep over?

K's house. It was there that I learned what an orgy was.

12. Who was the first person you talked to today?

Little Sister asked me if I wanted to get up this morning. I grunted "no."

13. Whose wedding were you in the first time?

My oldest female cousin's four or five years ago. Well, she sort of stuck me and Middle Sister in as "hostesses." We had to ask "bride or groom?" and pretend to seat people.

14. What was the first thing you did this morning?

Checked my Blackberry.

15. What was the first concert you ever went to?

Lil' Bow Wow's Scream Tour--still have the t-shirts, I think

16. First tattoo?

I don’t have one and I’m deliberating.

17. First piercing?

My ears.

18. First foreign country you went to?

Canada, as foreign as that can be

19. First movie you remember seeing?

Beauty and the Beast in the theaters, methinks, shortly followed by Snow White and the Lion King.

20. When was your first detention?

In like 5th grade, when the school passed this asinine detention policy for 5th grade infractions like tardies and not doing our homework properly. It soon became a party.

22. Who was your first roommate?

Besides Middle Sister? This anal-retentive girl named Brittany.

23. If you had one wish. What would it be?

To get married and start a family (combo)

24. What is something you would learn if you had the chance?

Play the drums

25. Did you marry the first person to ask for your hand in marriage?

I have never been honestly asked.

26. What was the first sport that you were involved in?

Cheerleading, and dancing before that, if dancing counts.

27. What were the first lessons you ever took?

Ballet, tap, and jazz

28. What is the first thing you do when you get home?

Change into my sweats and pee. And get a snack.

Very Little To Show for Myself

I opened up this blog window with a purpose, wanting greatly to tell y'all something witty and heartwarming, but I have nothing except for honorable intentions, that is.

For realsies I don't know what to say! Nada, zilch, zippo, the inside of a donut!

So yes, so I don't have an actual post but the point is I tried, ok?

Regale me with tales of your Monday, for I spent mine on the couch. Yes for days off!

Update: my mother loves us enough to raid Sam's Club for us to she can later complain that we eat too much junk food. For breakfast I had half a banana nut muffin and Arnold Palmer. For lunch I had half a chocolate muffin, a mini-bag of Doritos, and Coke. For a snack I had more Arnold Palmer. Clearly I need help. It's summertime and when I get lazy I eats. If I'm not gonna exercise, I at least have to stop scarfing down everything but Precious' dog food. Help. I did try a dog biscuit once. In my youth. Well, a few years ago. Don't ask.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Matrimony Music

Five songs that must be played at some point at your wedding. Go!

1. "So Amazing" by Luther Vandross--my parents played this at their wedding

2. "Sweetest Love" by Robin Thicke--he says it himself

3. "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce--duh because it's fun to dance to

4. "(There is) No Greater Love by Amy Winehouse--it's so sweet, especially acoustic. I'd get someone to sing it as we stood in front of everybody (people do that, right?)

5. "Just My Imagination" by The Temptations--one of my top Temps songs (watching the biopic as we speak)

6. "Like a Star" by Corrine Bailey Rae--is that a wedding song? Well, it'll be at mine.

Now that I think about it, it's been awhile since I've been to a wedding. My cousin is marrying this chick in October (psst! Her ring is HUGE) and he's not that much older than I am. Read: hot friends!

Let me know, folks!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Working Girl, Interrupted

Working with a professional sports team means there are a lot-- A LOT--of random people floating around. Just like literally working in a big place gets less confusing, eventually you start to recognize the dozens of people.

Except we know how good I am at isolating myself in a crowd of people.

My desk kind of faces a wall (that sounds soo lame), and during games, I feel like the other PR interns they have stuff to do, and they are, well, as anti-"reaching out" as I am. So we sit next to each other awkwardly.

HAHA, and they have to wear these disgusting red polos. And by disgusting I mean tacky.

Last year, at TV Station, the other interns were girls and we got along swimmingly and gossiped and whatnot, even though they'd been there a whole month and some before I got there and I thought I'd be the odd lame-o out but noo we bonded over licking hundreds of envelopes and hiding from our boss and taking internet personality quizzes when we were supposed to be, well, not doing personality quizzes.

Anywho, I guess I've only been around the PR interns a few times so maybe by the end of the summer we will have become chummy and I will have found one of them cute. That last part is kind of a stretch but hey.

But in the event of folks (like MY MOTHER) saying that I didn't take the reigns in extending the hand of friendship, um help, my surely more sociable readers. Give me some graces. Even though besides this one insignificant detail of not really having anyone to talk to, I totally enjoy working (interning, whatever) at The Arena.

I wish I worked at The Office. If Dunder Mifflin was a professional sports arena.

My Domain

I'm in that portion of the summer where everything is everywhere. Lord have mercy. My bedroom, my sanctuary, my boudoir is in utter shambles. Shambles, I tell ya!

As is, coincidentally, my life. I think the two occurrences may be related. Ok I may be exaggerating the "life" part but the room part is sadly, sadly true.

Looking around, what do I see?

A sombrero on an open suitcase full of shoes. A shopping bag of underwear (that I could not afford) next to a pair of Nike Hyperdunks and leather computer bag.

There are clothes and unmentionables alike hanging on many a horizontal surface (the dryer was broken so I had to line-dry EVERYTHING, 1950s style).

A very, very unused (yet fully blown-up exercise ball) that will someday obstruct my walking path.

Empty Dairy Queen on the ironing board.

Books littering the surface at the head of my bed (they used to be in a tidy pile but Lord only knows what happened).

Just randomly reflecting on my room and, well, le sigh. Also I love The Office. That is all.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Transformers 2: A Study

I'm still sad. But it's a happy sad. A "sing along to 'The Way You Make Me Feel' through my tears" kind of sad. Before I lost my Favorite Entertainer of All Time, Little Sister and I went to see the midnight premiere of Transformers 2. The theater was hot, and it was long (and a little racist!) but it was a great entertainment. I decided (during a lull in the 2.5 hours of action) that T2 was a combination of movies. SPOILER ALERT.

Harry Potter 7: Optimus Prime dying and whatnot reminded me of Dumbledore's untimely demise. I think I was the only one in the theater who caught the funny part when the mom looks around the college and goes "ooh this is like Hogwarts!"

Also, the Decepticon informed the world that someone must bring forth Sam Witwicky in order to spare the world from destruction. Very Voldemort-esque!!!

War of the Worlds: I myself was exhausted after watching both of these movies.

The Mummy: they were in Egypt a lot, ok?

The Matrix: after every single plot twist and turn, the thing that could save Optimus Pride, and, conveniently, the world, was a doodad called...the matrix. Of all things. Wha? 15 years later, world-saving technology is still limited to the matrix. I shook my head.

I did enjoy it, though, even with Megan Fox's boobies all up in my face and everyone constantly looking perfectly sweaty and dirt-smudged.

Up next in the technically bad but I will probably love it category: GI Joe. Then The Ugly Truth and then, joy of joys! Harry Potter the Sixth. I am so ready.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Way He Made Me Feel

I can't.

You're telling me that the King of Pop, is gone?

That my favorite artist in the entire world, is no longer with us?

I don't believe you.

My parents' generation has John Lennon. They heard it on the radio. I saw it on CNN. Fucking TMZ.

I was glued to the TV, until it flashed across the screen. Had to close my eyes. Broke down in tears. Never met the man, physically, duh. Don't give a fuck. Still numb. Cried already. Will probably cry again.

The vultures are gonna come. As if they hadn't already. Oh, are you reporting that the stress of media hounding took its toll? No shit.

Listening to Smooth Criminal as we speak. Talking heads on the news getting on my nerves.

When I'm nervous I ask myself, what would Dirty Diana do? I belted "Rock With You" just yesterday. Oh, God, "Rock With You." Cue the tears. "The Way You..." I can't even type it.

I always imagined that was the song I would fall in love to. Never told anyone that before. But I always thought that if I ever needed to know if I was in love, the song "Rock With You" would come on, and he would look into my eyes, smile, and sing along, and I'd know he was The One, because he got it.

Did you know that, Michael? You were supposed to be there when I fell in love. You will be. You said you wanted your music to make you immortal. It will. It has.

Keep looking at the screen, not really watching, still can't believe it. Next time I blast "Streetwalker" in my car, will I cry?

What the hell, Michael? Why, Michael? At the very least, you weren't supposed to die before I saw you in concert! I thought I'd be older when you went. I knew I'd cry though.

This isn't real. Two seconds of "Don't Stop til You Get Enough."

Just cried again.

Update: I saw both my mom and dad shed a tear when they thought I wasn't looking. It's real.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Rainy Ruminations

Hola ladies and gents.

I was totally and completely planning to grovel for your forgiveness tomorrow but that persistent broad, guilt, kept disturbing my sleep. I really do love you guys! I mean, I *think* about posting a lot, which counts for something, right?! Well to me it does ok?
But I will try to honor my bloggerly duties, even if it means sacrificing my thumbs by posting from my Blackberry. Things we do for love.

Honest I do think about yall a lot. For instance after tonight's game I had to drive home in a pitch black, hurling vortex of a thunderstorm and had to use my music as a coping mechanism, ie: don't stop singing along lest your mind wanders to, "oh my God I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I wonder if they'll have a TV special on me hmm it'll drive my 'exes' insane with remorse for treating me bad hmm there's a silver lining oh well as long as they bury me a gangsta big curve sharp turn shhhhiiittttt..." And the only other thing I could think of was "if I live to tell the tale this is defffffinitely going on the blog."

So clearly I've got my priorities straight and yall are at the top of the list :-)
Also for my own convenience here's a list of things I've been meaning to talk about that I can refer to when I inevitably sit down to post and get smacked with a case of Empty Brain/Lack of Creativity:

-WNBA: my thoughts so far
-dream house
-close call with my sister
-family ruminations contd
-this episode of What Not to Wear that totally struck a chord
-the squirrel and the freeway

Obvs only wrote tidbits so as not to give it all away too soon (we know me). So stay tuned, all!

Yours in faithful, bespectacled service,


Sunday, June 14, 2009

Wedding or Circus?

Things have been a little heavy in my mind (and, sigh, in my jeans...) so really quick, so I spread a little good energy around:

I am LIKE COMPLETELY OBSESSED with Who's Wedding is it Anyway. Every time I watch it I mentally add another idea to my list of wedding stuff for my proverbial Big Day like a million years in the future.

-purple/fuschia as one of the wedding colors
-chocolate cake (I wish. Apparently not everybody likes chocolate cake *sad face*)
-long wavy hair (for me, duh)
-our own vows
-NO Pachebel's Canon in D (I was forced to play it on the piano for guests as a child and have never really gotten over it) or Vivaldi
-no tulle. Anywhere.
-or, omigod, updos
-a rehearsal barbecue instead of rehearsal dinner

I could go on and on.

Linyette, the no-nonsense, good-natured black lady from Baltimore, is my favorite wedding planner, FYI.

The funniest episode was the wedding between this snooty blonde [gold-digger] and this stereotypical, Bart Bass-type dude. They kept pushing the date back, too. The first time, the couple was "having problems" which was totally code for one of these numbers:

"You don't care about this wedding or you would have came to the cake tasting with me!"

"Don't care? Don't care? I was busting my ass at work trying to pay for the goddamned cake!"

But apparently, things were smoothed out, and preparations commenced for the new date. Then, the already overworked Kevin and his team of wedding planners start getting calls from angry vendors with unpaid bills. Oh, snap, right?! Looks like Mr. Moneybags ain't so moneyed! I could imagine that fight, too

"Do you know how embarrassing it is for our celebrity wedding planner to tell me that the florist hasn't been paid? In front of my friends? In front of the cameras? IN FRONT OF MY MOTHER?!?!"

"Why did you order a hundred different types of fucking flowers anyway?"

"Oh, now you want to add your input!"

And of course, the lady took it out on poor Kevin, griping at him when he asked her if they were going to pay $1500 for parking, something the bride hadn't thought of but was clearly in the pamphlet he gave her at the beginning of the plans. Later that night, I'm sure:

"I totally gave Kevin hell today worrying about fucking parking. And for what?! If your money's funny and we can't pay for this wedding I swear to God..."

Our brave weddling planner manages to soothe the ires of the florists, bakers, dressmakers, etc, and they even give the couple until Thursday to pay their bills. Thursday comes and goes, no word from the happy couple. Heroically, miraculously, Kevin manages to extend the deadline until Friday afternoon. And still no word from the couple! At this rate, my mouth is gaping open, this is un-fucking-leviable!

Kevin has to go around and tell the various vendors that this particular wedding is pretty much a no-go at this point, and finally, he ends up at the lady's house, where she tells him that the wedding's not happening. She sounds pretty vague, as if there may be a slim chance that her and [her money train] Bart Bass 2.0 can work things out, silently imploring Kevin to keep her as a client. But Kevin reads her like a book. If the wedding was totally off, there would be no need to say so anyway, but he tells her flat-out and very politely, that he couldn't work with her anymore. Even though her wedding was just cancelled, I was secretly kind of happy that Kevin gave her the heave-ho because she was a brat.

Clearly, I've invested a lot into this show.

Life Lessons on a Saturday Night

In the interest of time and a DVD, I'll make this short.

Tonight, I had a revelation that my views on my Middle Sister have been clouded by judgment. Judgment from me as well as my parents. And by "as well as" I mean probably "largely because of." She's made mistakes throughout middle and high school: bad decisions, wrong crowd of friends. She's a good kid, she just has a lot of defenses, a lot of attitude, and probably, a lot expected of her (my being the Prodigal Daughter and all--I'm joking but I'm serious). There have been skids that have made her seem--and sometimes be?--untrustworthy, and for a long time, it seemed like issue after issue. The best thing was for me to keep her somewhat at length so her destructiveness wouldn't take an emotional toll on me. I just hated the fighting, the atmosphere, the tension.

Since I've been home for the summer, she's kept her nose clean (but NOT, dear God, her bedroom), but you'd never guess it from the way my parents interrogate her every time she steps outside the house after 7pm. I usually thought nothing of it, surely there was some indiscretion she was still being punished for, right? Tonight, I even tried to talk to her about it, and how she responded really made me think. I asked her why she wasn't willing to alter her behavior to regain our parents' trust. Telling us she's going to a party as she walks out the door and being vague about who's throwing it would breed suspicion from the most lax of parents (hopefully). Which I told her, which she understood. But then she pointed out that no matter what she does, they treat her the same. There has been no incident directly involving her that I know of, yet as I think about it, but now that I think about it, the antagonizing from my parents would seriously suggest otherwise.

As I drove back home after dropping her off, I really thought about it. My parents can only see my sister for what she was, not what she is trying to do to move on/improve. And sadly, I realized that I was guilty of the same thing because of our own relationship. I was so ready to believe the worst of her, not even considering that perhaps she was changing but we refused to see it. I can't believe I missed it, how blind I've been, perhaps because my mom sometimes turned to me for advice/to rant about Middle Sister's latest shenanigans. I had liked to think of myself as a mediator of sorts, but I really was a translator, a negotiator for one party only. Now that I think about it, whenever there's a conflict, I try to gently explain my parents' rationale, however faulty, to the offending child, while mentally checking out of the situation. I thought that was my job as a daughter, the oldest daughter, to be an apostle, preaching the words of those who I was supposed to be loyal to first and foremost: my parents. In most cases, I really do think that a kid must follow his or her parents' wishes ("as long as you live in this house!"), but as we've gotten older, there has been slight room to haggle. It's time for the haggling to benefit both parties, not just the most powerful.

Don't get me wrong, Middle Sister still can be, ahem, difficult, but she and Little Sister are indeed the apples of my eye. I owe it to her to start being in her corner publicly, not just in my own head to make myself feel better. Wow. Looks like I'm not the Prodigal Daughter after all.

Well, in this case.

Friday, June 12, 2009


Ok I lied rant back on.

-I haven't had the time (nor, if we're being honest, the inclination) to exercise in awhile. I have, however, had time to eat AND EAT and I'm afraid it will catch up with me sooner that later

-Sometimes, while reflecting about the past three years in preparation for my senior year (WHOOOO!!), I'm scared I'll make the same mistakes in terms of friendships, relationships, etc and let people treat me any kind of way and respond destructively.

-My sisters are growing up before my bespectacled eyes and I hate it. HATE HATE HATE it. Drove Little Sister to her piano lesson and while we were goofing off in the car I totally almost burst into tears because she's about to start high school and then she will probably definitely be too cool for me :-( also, Middle Sister is about to start college and I'm really scared that our personality differences will tear us apart.

-I've been feeling quite insecure lately. Inadequate, lacking, unrelatable almost; even incapable at human interaction. Like, I enjoy being alone but then I like it too much that I'm closed off so even when I want company I'm stuck on my solitary island. An island with lots of books and pretzels, but seldom other people.

-Also it's my last year to find a college boyfriend. Even though, I don't think about it as much as I used to. However, when what has been a central worry is now on the back burner compared to my other worries, I get mighty worried. At least I still have my wit.

That felt amazingly amazing to get off my chest, once again. Blogtherapy. Better than tequila.

I Need a Financial Bailout

I often joke around when the words aren't flowing like I need them to, saying things like "Who hired me?" "Why did I choose to be a writer?" in jest, of course.

This WNBA internship affords me lots of opportunities to write stories, one thing I thought I was good at--well, people have told me I'm good at, some [ok many] days I think I suck and words just appear out of my ass and apparently people like them. Or did they?

Maybe it's a college-to-professional growing pains thing. I know the ins and outs of editing and journalism and critiquing but let me be a baby for a second: WAAAHHH MY "EDITOR" KEEPS CHANGING MY STORIES TOTALLY AROUND AND I'M STARTING TO THINK I SUCK FOR REAL FOR REALS. *pouts*

End rant. I'm going to be mature about this and ask that instead of me turning in a story and reading something completely different (I get that my writing needs work...or do I? See above) I could work more closely with him as he edits, time permitting of course. Is that a good idea? I hope it is. I might chicken out though--which I doubt because my "editor" is cool. I put "editor" in quotes because he's probably not even thirty yet and he reminds me of Seth Cohen. Totally not intimidating. Anyway, I'm going to learn from this internship if it kills me: this is just what I need, someone totally unbiased to edit, rearrange, prune, Botox, chop, screw, sautee, and iron out my wrinkly articles until they are silky smooth with perfection. But I want my stories to sound different from his, you know? He's a really good writer (I'm jealous/admiring) but he's not me, and if I've learned anything it's that you (I) need your own writing voice, which I'm working on, by the way.

Whew. I'm glad I got that off my chest. Oh and I'm scared I'll get kicked out of my place back in Southern State because we (my parents) never pay the rent on time. Without getting too deep into it, I've always been weird about asking for money from my parents, because a) I'm cheap 2) we haven't always had it and I couldn't stand the thought of being a burden. Even though it's important (so I won't be homeless duh), I can't fathom bitching about it to parents who have to put two more kids through college soon (Middle Sister class of 2013, go Bison! awww I'm so proud) amidst this little thing called The Greatest Recession Since the Greatest Depression which hit our city and our family hard. Like rock through a windshield hard.

So it's like yeah I know my family's situation but at the same time I understand my roommate needs the money so she's getting an attitude with ME because I'm around even though I'm like bish it's not coming out of my pocket no matter how many times you psuedo-lecture me about the rent being My Responsibility and It's How You Build Credit, You Know (true story). If you're Person A and Person C has your money, I wouldn't keep going through Person B. That's just how I look at it; maybe I'm bang out of order. I don't know what to do. If someone does, don't be stingy, share the knowledge so my hair doesn't fall out with stress and I end up weeping silently into my iced tea.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Dirty Harriet Goes to Work

When an assignment must be done, what do we do? BLOG!

Covered a lovely community relations event today and now am trying to craft a story out of a page of notes and a Gossip Girl-addled brain. To the uneducated eye, it can appear as if I'm procrastinating, but ah, 'tis a FOOL who thinks that! It's all a part of my process. I putz around on the internet, watch some TV on DVD, put on some lotion, and BAM. A Pulitzer-worthy article comes spilling out of nowhere. We're still in the putzing and DVD phase, so this might take awhile.

Remember when I totally George Foremaned my hand (on the oven)? The resulting burn looks like a tiny grill mark and is distracting as I absentmindedly type on the keyboard...

Dressing business casual is not my forte. Button downs and slacks and pumps are hateful. Hateful, I tell you. When I actually wear pumps, that is. Even though at TV Station we had to dress appropriately, that was like a year ago and at Big Sports Station the dress code was like one step above sweatpants so now I'm lazy. I work with two shirt and tie guys and the other PR girls are these svelte creatures who wear pencil skirts and four-inch heels and sparkly tank tops underneath their shirts and then there's me. No style-havin', would rather be wearing jeans and flip-flops, forever wrinkled ol' me. I tell ya. I wasn't made to wear professional attire.

I wish I was Serena van der Woodsen. SHE knows how to dress.

Sunday, May 31, 2009


I love how men are quick to list what they want/don't want in a woman yet remain annoyingly oblivious to their own faults. However, that's another post. Looking through posts at Single Black Male (which I have a love/hate relationship with), the posts I liked were the lists of "quirks"--or qualities unique to a mate-seeking individual based on their own personalities, that other people may not understand. These can include wearing glasses, enjoying Anime, what have you. I thought about it, and here's my starting list of quirks that will make Lucky's heart swoon.

-Knowing a little about a lot.
This is a two-fold: keeping up with current events, from the highbrow news to pop culture is one. More importantly, and Top Chef is the man for this one: knowing so much random trivia it makes my head spin, allowing us to have drawn-out conversations about any- and everything. There are a few subjects with which I am totally fascinated. While my man doesn't have to share these same fascinations, I will find it absolutely endearing if he's a total nerd about, say, the Bermuda triangle, the history of football, and Howard Hughes.

If you're wondering, my favorite subjects are the Romanovs, Princess Diana, the Mafia (la Cosa Nostra!). Honorable mention: Titanic, ancient Egypt, and Greco-Roman mythology.

-An affinity for the child-like
Not to be confused with childish, ie, immature, overly messy, dependent on mothers, etc, a man who can appreciate the childlike makes my heart melt. A little silly, laughs at cute commercials, even stuff like remembering his favorite Power Ranger (and has valid reasons!). Ultimate bonus: if he has read (not just seen the movies, although that counts for something) Harry Potter. I've never met a man besides TC who has physically turned the pages of our beloved series. When I meet him, there will be a party in someone's pants, I guarantee.

-(Slightly) Imperfect Teeth
A tiny gap or a little crooked tooth in the front is so cute to me. Noticeably f*cked up or discolored chompers are icky, but a textbook so-called too-perfect smile along with perfect lips does nothing for me. I'm a sucker for a unique, lopsided grin.

My dad's left-handed. My terrific buddy The Artist is left-handed. The Smoker was left-handed. Barack Obama is left-handed. Maybe it's the fact that it's kinda rare and weirdish. But it is absolutely adorable when a guy is so confident and by-the-book classic but writes with the "off" hand. Sigh.

-Hates the same reality TV that I hate
Ok. Shows like Rock of Love, for the Love of Ray J absolutely turn my stomach. I think they're misogynistic and dumb, catering to the idea of a man and his harem of women. The women on the show are just as bad. Maybe it's the one uptight part about me but I can't stand those shows, for comic relief or othewise. Just can't get with it. And any guy who doesn't at least see those problems, or worse, "kinda likes the idea of getting to choose from a bevy of [publicity-hounding, morally questionable] 'sexy' women" gives me a glimpse of his thoughts on women, sex, and relationships in general. It depends, I guess, on what he has to say, but more than anything those shows piss me off and I don't want to risk the chance of them clogging up my TiVo 'cause he just has to see who else smashed the homies.

-Has battle wounds
I love a guy with manly hands and scars from actually working sometime in his life. Or, oooh, playing sports. I don't bruise, and the few scars I've gotten totally disappear when they heal. True story: when I tripped and fell in a ditch in an unfortunate cheerleading-related incident and disgustingly scraped my knee, I thought FOR SURE it would leave a gnarly scar. But alas, you can barely see it now. Boo. Bottom line: I think scars are cool and since I can't seem to get any* I like them on guys. OMG another true story: this guy I went to high school with is a burn victim and years later I think his somewhat faded but still visible burns are kinda sexy...

I am so weird.

*Knock on wood that I don't, like, slice my arm in a freak shopping accident. Even though I got a burn on the top of my hand from the oven and I kinda like it.

I truly and literally could go on and on as I write, so I'll stop here. But I'm interested in you guys' quirky turn-ons.

Some final thoughts:
-I freaking love the Real Housewives of New Jersey. LOVE THEM. I love how they're all kinda tacky and too tan and really great moms, too.