Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Here's what happened:
I was out in the parking lot taking a personal phone call - one of those you don't want people in the office listening in on. Rates right up there with making an appointment with your GYN or a private psychic (and I'm kidding - I don't mess with that kind of stuff - the psychic, I mean). So, there's a doctor's office right next to ours & there's this one chick who's always coming and going. I think she's the wife or girlfriend to the doc. Drives a smoking little BMW, wears hot pants that James Brown would dig, and works a walk to and from the car like she's on a fashion ramp in Milan. She is a pretty lady, I'll give her that. Blonde, tall, leggy, but extremely thin (I'm talking thin like Nicole Richie on a hunger strike), and sort of, um... preserved-looking - you know, like, she's had everything bonded, capped, plated, inflated - all that "Doctor 90210" kind of stuff. But, still, pretty - or maybe I should say she's striking. One of those people you will notice.
So, I'm out there in this hell-hot sun, trying to have my conversation and spray sunscreen on at the same time (yeah - I usually carry my sunscreen around with me) & Pretty Chick comes strutting out of the office next door. She does her walk (one that men probably visualize as happening in slow-mo & set to porno music) over to that hot-looking car of hers, opens the door, and - just when she's about to do the whole smooth duck-and-slide-into-the-seat move, the heel on her shoe must have twisted or something. I don't know. All I saw from where I stood (watching, of course) was that she was there one minute - all 5 foot maybe 9 inches tall - and the next... bloop. It's like she just disappeared.
(Maybe I told you all before about a friend of ours who slid under a car on some Alaska winter ice... Maybe not. Anyway, I had a flashback of that when Pretty Chick slid out of my sight the way she did. It was like a David Blaine moment.)
Of course, I paused talking on the phone to try to see what had happened. For a minute, nothing. Then, I see ol' girl pulling herself up on the side of the car. Hair all jacked up, one side of her outfit dusty... And she's red-faced embarrassed. I realized what had happened. She'd made that one too-cute move that sometimes goes all wrong on ya & busted her foxy ass right there in the parking lot.
Maybe because I just needed a good laugh, or maybe 'cause I really am kind of a bitch sometimes - I don't know what the reason is, but I just FELL OUT laughing. Like to broke something in my side I was so tickled. I'm talking head back, mouth open and LOUD, country-fied laughing. The kind of laughing you usually try to hold in reserve for when you're just around people you're real comfortable with. Whoo!
Then, maybe cause I just needed that laugh so bad, I couldn't stop. Every time I tried to get that mess under some kind of control, it hit me fresh again. I couldn't even catch my breath to talk long enough to explain to my conversation partner what the deal was. (The person on the other end of the phone doesn't know me REAL well, but by the time I got through, I had HER laughing. She didn't even know what was so funny. All I managed to tell her was, "I'll have to call you later.")
Now. Pretty Chick can hear me laughing. People TWO BLOCKS away could probably hear me laughing. But. I. Can't. Help. It.
When P.C. finishes dusting herself off, she shoots me a glare hotter than the AZ sun & then bops her butt on into her ride. That should've made me feel a little bit ashamed of myself, but it just set me off again. While she was giving me a look and trying to play like she hadn't just toasted her ass on that hot ground, I was thinking she might ought to just concentrate on not hurting herself again.
So, oh yeah - if there's such a thing as karma, or if Karma has a cousin called Payback - I'm in for some trouble. But it was worth it.
How sad is that? It took someone else's clumsy misfortune to lift my blues completely away. I'm telling you: I'm STILL laughing as I type this. Pretty Chick is going to hate me for a long time, but she's given me a gift. For at least the next ten years, every time I need a chuckle, all I'm going to have to do is remember her little moment in the sun. (Of course, I won't be trying to run into her in the parking lot. She's almost anorexic, but I bet she could step on me without lifting her leg too high.)
Y'all better pray for me 'cause I have a bill coming for this one. Either I'm going to fall, slide, or trip. Something. Life just does not give away the laugh I got today without a collection notice.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
I've been so lucky. I have nice neighbors here. I think I told y'all about Doug and Linda, who live right next door to my left. They are an older-than-me (50/60-ish) couple. She is hilarious & reminds me of the women from the south. She can talk about someone under her breath while they are standing 3 feet away, cracking me up while she never makes a face. He is a Suns fan, but I dig him anyway. When some strange company van showed up the other day and two guys started digging up my yard "to lay cable," I went & got Doug to come and find out what the deal really was. Not because I am a helpless female or thought the guys were lying to me, but because I wanted them to know that I am close enough to my neighbors that should they try anything, someone would be watching. Doug was great. He ascertained that the guys were legit (he knew of the company they represented), and he made sure they planned to put my yard back right when they were finished with their work. They did. I think they even added a couple of plants!
This morning, I got a call from the moving company that's bringing my stuff in from Anchorage. So happens I'm home alone. Everyone else is at church. I stayed home in case the movers did show up today. When they called to say they were just several miles out, I realized I was going to be parading around the house alone directing them on where to place boxes. Normally, I'd feel safe enough, but Doug and Linda are out of town & I'm keeping an eye out on their empty house. Hmmm... Now might be a good time to meet my other neighbors. The lady across the street (who came and introduced herself one day & told my sister about the drama of her life as wife of a man with several outside-the-marriage children...) was not home. Maybe she and her hubby are on one of his parental visits? So... I went to the neighbor on the other side of Doug and Linda's. I've seen and waved to this man - older gentleman with Memorial Day flags flying everywhere. He walks around the yard, tanned and shirtless, so I admire his toughness already. I tiptoe through an immaculate yard with some of the most beautiful plants and shrubbery I've ever seen. More American flags on the door columns, and a doormat with a Marine's logo. The doorbell plays a few strains of the "National Anthem." Yeah. This guy is all right with me. I'm from a family of military men. Any soldier, sailor, airmen or marine is up one in my book from the get-go.
Russ answered the door & when I introduced myself, I got the story of his retirement from the Marines, how he and his wife spend their days, and a bio of at least five other neighbors. Cool dude. He assured me that he would wander down and keep an eye out for me with all those male movers going in and out of my house. He already knew I was from Anchorage because he'd met my brother when Joe was fixing up the house for me to move in. Russ is a man, remember, and Joe drives a really cool car. Men and cars. I'm talking to Russ in a tank top and shorts - half-naked by Alaska standards - but I bet he remembers more about the features on Joe's car than he does about the clothes I was wearing. Men. Cars.
Anyway. I have nice neighbors. I'm thinking I should have my niece send me a couple of Ulus - which are Native Alaskan knives, used for everything from skinning animal hides to food prep. I want to gift them to my neighbors because I realize I could've ended up with mean, spiteful people who never speak or acknowledge my presence. I could have ended up with neighbors who leave nasty notes in my mailbox.
Poor Liz, my old snoop-buddy... I bet she won't be sending any gift baskets across the road to the "Poops." This is what she nicknamed the neighbors after the Episode of the Nasty Note. I can't wait until she can visit me here. After we hit Olive Garden and Ulta Cosmetics to pick up some lotion and sunscreen, I'm going to take her over to meet Doug, Linda, and Russ. Maybe we can all have a little backyard bbq? Maybe I can talk her into moving here. There's a cute little house for sale just about eight doors down from me...
"Good neighbors share more than property lines!"
I don't know. I told y'all I been slacking off.
The State Farm song keeps running through my head and blocking any other coherent thoughts, but maybe that Gladys Knight/Elton John/Dionne Warwick song about friends???
Saturday, May 27, 2006
I think it's the creative child in me that makes me keep a hundred different things going on at once. I start on too many things & get all frustrated when I can't keep up with it all. Why do I do this to myself?
I have a list of topics I want to cover in the blog over the next few weeks, but everytime I glance over the list, I can't pick any subject I want to tackle at the moment. So I end up rambling. Like now.
I promised myself I was going to make time EVERY DAY to work on the novel, but I'm so disappointed in not hearing back from the agent on the first book yet that I get blocked. At first, I'd set the goal of getting up at 5 a.m. to work on the book. That would give me a couple of hours to write & still have a minute to relax before getting ready to be to work by 10. (I got up right on time for the first 3 days, wrote absolutely nothing worth the ink I used, and was ragged out tired by the time I got to work.) My next plan was to devote a couple of hours to my writing after work... Yeah. Right. I'd come in & feel too brain dead from learning about contracts, buyers, sellers, commissions, etc... Not to mention that I'd be so hot that all I wanted was to get a shower (and think about how this salty assed water is drying out my skin) and vegetate on the back porch.
My latest plan for keeping up with my writing is to devote at least half the weekend to it. This being the first weekend, I've already blown that one. My nephew (the airman) has come for a visit, my younger nieces/nephews are all having end-of-the-year parties that I have to make appearances at, and my household goods from Alaska are scheduled to be delivered either this or tomorrow morning.
I guess I don't have to tell you that I haven't gotten very much done on the novel this weekend.
Then there's this blog. At least I'm getting something done here - if nothing else but to bitch about everything else!
Last of all, I think I must be a part-time idiot. Remember how I was feeling exhausted? I thought it was just stress, etc... Yeah. It's probably some of that, but it doesn't help that I haven't been taking my iron pills. The same iron pills that are sitting in the medicine cabinet right next to the face cream I use every morning. I should know better. I've been anemic all my life. All I have to do to build up at least some energy is take my pills a few times a day. (Maybe I was subconsciously sabotaging myself?...)
Anyway - I am trying to get disciplined & on top of a few things:
1 - get this book DONE
2 - get the synopsis for the book DONE
3 - get my blog back on track (and coherent)/get back up to date with the blogs I read (I have to see what the heck y'all been up to!)
4 - get Book III started
5 - finish putting up the pictures and knick-knacks still sitting around the house
6 - find some way to spend more time with the nieces/nephews
7 - start finding somewhere other than WalMart to spend my out-of-the-house time
8 - find TW in Midland
9 - go get fitted for that damn bra before the office ladies run me nuts. (I think they are maybe just a lit-tle bit jealous of my natural hoo-hahs...)
Maybe I should pare the list down a little? Or is that just another form of procrastination? We'll see. I've got my list & I'm going to work on forcing myself to deal with all this stuff. But first, I'm going to go take my iron pill.
"Every action requires action. Action requires motivation. Motivation is all in the attitude." (Free/2006)
Culture and history resources
(esp. see the links under "People" & "Arts&Entertainment"
which is where I found "Writers" and other notables of interest)
"You & I"
Earth, Wind & Fire
Monday, May 15, 2006
Michelle is a fun chick. Remember that I told you that, okay? She decides that the wine we had before we left my brother's house & the champagne we had in the ride to the mall were not good enough. Not fun-chick enough. So. Saki Bombers.
I'd never heard of a Saki Bomber & I think I'd only had saki once before in my life (with a LOT of rice and other healthy food already coating my stomach). Michelle - being a fun chick - and me -being stupid, decide to do the Bombers. You fill a tumbler half up with really cold beer, fill a saki cup with really warm saki, and Bombs away! Yeah.
I had four of those before the rest of the women caught up with us and it was time to get back to the rest of our ride. We went to a place called The Cheesecake Factory. I have no idea if they serve cheesecake or if there is indeed a factory around. I walked in feeling fine, joking with the driver (whose name was Jimmy Hendrix, I kid you not) and sneaking out once or twice with another girlfriend for a smoke. I made it for about twenty minutes and went from stone cold sober to completely drunk. I mean, the kind of drunk where I only remember the first few minutes of being drunk.
I woke up at 1:26 in the morning with no idea how I'd gotten home, out of my clothes and in bed. Went to the kitchen for some ginger ale (which sounded like a great idea after I'd almost made myself gag brushing my teeth), got one sip of the ale down & was drunk all over again. I mean, drunk as in having to crawl back to the bedroom.
I woke up at 3-something. Apparently, I'd made it to the foot of the bed & fell asleep propped against the footboard. Felt a little better (just a very little) and made it to the kitchen again. This time, I made some coffee (which sounded like a good idea at the moment), but as soon as I smelled it brewing, I knew it wasn't the best idea. Okay.
Ice chips. Always good, right? Don't they give this to hospital patients? I got me a cup of ice chips and headed to the back porch to sit and have a smoke.
Not good. Apparently (and I remembered this right after I'd had a few ice chips) water only brings a drunk back to drunk.
I crawled (and I do mean, I got on my hands and knees and CRAWLED) off the porch, through the sliding door and into the house. I think I walked some of the way to the bedroom. Made it to the bed this time, and lay there feeling sick as R. Kelly until I must have dozed off.
6 a.m. or so, my sister (who slept through my stumbling/crawling, coffee-making, ice-chip gathering escapades) comes in to sit on my bed.
"How're you feeling?"
I give her the run-down of my escapades. She tells me that my brother had gone to get me and bring me home. He apparently was having a great laugh at my drunkeness & saying how much fun he would have with me at work TUESDAY (since I wasn't looking like a Monday kind of gal at that point)...
"At least you had a good time."
(Was she not paying attention? Well, okay - I DID have a mostly good time.)
"I have bad news."
At this point, I figured I'd had about all the bad news I could take. A look back: My friend's son was killed in a motorcycle accident. My Uncle's wife passed. My cousin's boyfriend passed. And now...
"You Auntie Nita was killed by a drunk driver on her way to work."
I made phone calls to my Texas and Arkansas family find out about arrangements (for both Uncle's wife & my Auntie Nita). I took a shower, did laundry, laid out something for work for the week. I sat on the porch and smoked way too many cigarettes. I took phone calls from my fellow contestants & put up with the jokes and cracks about being a "lightweight." I filled the birdfeeder & freshened the birdbath. I watered my trees. Smoked some more. Managed to drink O.J. that my older brother brought over for me. I took a nap.
At around 4 o'clock or so, I managed to eat part of an Arby's Market Fresh Turkey sandwhich with some warm boullion. At around five, I called my brothers and told them that I decided I wasn't going to go to either funeral. They & my sister are all talking now about who will be going to represent us.
I almost feel like getting drunk again, but I'm the kind of person - I can't drink at will. That's probably why I'm not an alcoholic. If I were able to just drink to get drunk, I'd do it now while I try to figure out why the drunk driver who killed Nita was driving in the first place. Why couldn't he have called himself a taxi, a friend, or a brother to come and pick him up? I wonder why my uncle's wife was alone when she had her heart attack? Where were her kids? Her friends? My uncle?
I'm such a selfish bitch. This is one of those times when I can't be superchick & I wish I had TW or some man to rescue me from being overwhelmed by life and stuff.
I'm out of excuses & time & putting it off anymore. I have to start my job & I'm kind of glad that I won't have time to think so much.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
- On handling the TW thing-
"Girl, gone on ahead and call that boy and get it over with. You 'bout to make me nervous with all this silliness!"
"If you don't call him, I will."
-On my housekeeping-
"Don't forget to put a little bleach in that dishwater."
"If you fold your sheets in half, it don't take as long to iron them."
"When you're at work, leave your life at home. When you get home, leave your work at the office. Don't nobody at work want to hear about your man, and nobody at home wants to hear about your boss."
-On taking a chance-
"It's all right to be afraid to do something new. Do it it you want, don't if you don't. As long as you never have to say you WISH you hadda done it."
Wow. Mama's still right here with me.
Happy Mother's Day, Tootsie!
Tags: Memories, Mothers, Mother's Day
Monday, May 08, 2006
I'm not just spitting in the wind with this one, you guys. I have a real point. I was thinking about what you can tell about people from different things & I got to thinking about our "Wish Lists." I started one a while back with Froogle & I was playing around with it a while ago and did some updating. When I looked back over my list, I wondered what someone looking at my list would think about me. Now, I'm curious about other people's lists. There are plenty of things that I would put on a REAL list, but here are some of my general grooves:
- Anything by or about Huey Newton and the BPP. I've always had a curiosity about this.
- Anything to do with something that smells good. My latest favorites are the scents of Tuberose and chocolate. (I have got to buy me some of that perfume that has the chocolate in it!!!)
- Anything to do with soothing looks or sounds. I love those recordings of nature sounds - esp the ocean. Maybe we Cancerians are into that because of our crab natures...
Tomorrow I go to work, so this old bumper sticker came to mind --
"I owe, I owe, so off to work I go."
Pretty appropriate with the way I've been spending money!
Yesterday was my late father's birthday. I've got the Temptations "My Girl" on my mind since it's one of the songs Daddy used to sing to me.
Haven't gotten completely back into my net surf groove yet, but I plan to get back to and really work on my Frappr page...
"God invented birds to sing backup for nature." (Free 5/2006)
Saturday, May 06, 2006
All right - finally kinda figured out this uploading of photos...
The top left is of me and my sibs at the family party(Christmas in AZ 2005) & that's me on the left end in the white top and (do NOT talk about me) the blue houseshoes. (Don't ask why I did that... but I WILL say that I had been drinking alcohol & I'm pretty sure I was sort of drunk!)
The bottom photo is of two of my bros - the handsome devils! We were in San Diego for New Year's & I LOVE the sign above their heads. (I have a secret: I love hanging with my big bros cause I feel so safe around them big dudes :-)
I'll have new pics up soon as I get them done.
Special note to my kid Abeni - how you digging your Arizona "Ma" :-)
Words: A shout to my family: "You are everything & everything is you."
Song: "We Are Family" - Sister Sledge
Friday, May 05, 2006
It's been such a crazy transition that I spent three hours this morning thinking over what my "new" life here feels like. Since I'm tired, I'll just give a little freestyle rundown & save my usual wordiness for another session. Please forgive the bad writing. I'm so tired that if I weren't so happy about being "connected" again, I wouldn't be writing at all.
Take these thoughts into your hearts and be happy for me.
The heat is both annoying and sensual. Makes me feel like being somewhere cooler, but also makes me feel sweet in my Blackness and makes my skin feel at home. I slink around in the whispers of the sun on my body and just know that my soul was born in a tropical place.
The men are amazing. The smile, stare, flirt and appreciate - not at the chick behind me with blonder hair, lighter skin or different colored eyes - but at me: Black, black, hot, sexy, got-my-hair pulled up, no make-up on, mouth sticky with dark chocolate that I've started "feening" for; skin feeling smoky and smelling like Tuberose oil...
My family is together. I can call them one moment & be with them ten minutes later. We can have lunch and parties and tease each other like when we were kids not separated by life-distance-issues.
My house is more home every moment. I've made friends with the backyard birds, the frontyard neighbors, and I wave to my mailman. I sit on the porch and have thoughts that only writers are able to have when they are in a place that is made for writers.
I am miles from the place that was so "home" to me for so long. I miss it, but I know that the time for being at home in the Land of the Midnight Sun has passed & I am feeling good-anxious-lost/found-renewed and glorious in this new land. The sun has a different attitude here. I have a different attitude. I want to learn how to swim.
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