Self-Evaluation

Sometimes it is hard to remember why I started this blog. My original goal was to explore my feelings on different things in an effort to find out who I truly am and regain the voice that I felt was losing. With that in mind I felt it was about time for me to do a self-check.

Here is what I have learned:

1. Budgeting won't actually kill me. It does suck and it has made me cry more than once.
2. You can not be taken seriously as an adult if you call your mother to help you clean your house. I don't do it anymore, but there are still times when I think about it.
3. Ignorance is bliss and there is no turning back once you know certain things. I have discovered some things about the people close to me that I wish could forget and I have learned things about my I-Pad Boss' injured groin that I wish I could unhear. Once you know, you are responsible to act and pretending like you unaware is much easier said than done.
4. I really do have a constant inner dialogue going. It is like an episode of Herman's Head in there. (If you ever wondered how old I am, just Google that reference.)
5. I hate saying good-bye to anything. I have trouble parting with anything that reminds me of something or someone. This is true even for people and events that I don't particularly like. My only saving grace is fear of becoming a horder and the looks of deep concern for my mental stateI get from Husband.
6. I am a Christian Socialist who generally votes the Democratic ticket with keen understanding that I live in a Republic (and I am current surrounded by Republicans). I am not against capitalism per se, but I am against the greed apect and I wish people would stop pretending that everyone starts with an equal set of opportunities to succeed. I am not telling rich people to stop being rich, but I do think they should share more. I also can't make the connection between my Christian faith and the desire that other "Christians" have to make other people feel less worthy of God's love and equal protection under the law.
7. I have got to be more consistent. Once people begin to invest in your blog, you have to start taking it seriously and that means updating it as promised and not just when you remember.
8. I am more vain than I ever wanted to admit.
9. I am a good friend to have in your corner.
10. I am dangerous when I am paying attention.

I am a little surprised, but I must say that I am starting to love who I have become. It was hard to mesh the life that I had and the life I had anticipated with the life that I was living. It was hard to know what things to let go of from childhood, teen years, my twenties, single life and even those newlywed and new mommy years. I was standly square in the middle of "Grown-Up Land" and I had no idea how to navigate. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of expectations- both from myself and from others. I needed to stop, take a breath, find a map, get my bearings and figure my way through. Well, I never found a map, but this blog helped me stop and really take a look around. I have been able to dump a lot of baggage and clear my head. I have found people who agree and people who think that I am nuts and all opinions have been welcome. Mostly I think I am loving my new sense of perspective.

I have learned that I am much more capable than I ever really gave myself credit for. I can keep my house clean (my car is a whole other story). I can lovingly care for my family while working and take a few days out for myself. I have gotten my UC in check (as long as I don't have to take any more steroids I will be a happy camper.) My life is good and this blog serves as a constant reminder. I have a great support system, a REALLY cute and supportive hubby, kids that make me proud more often than the leave me frustrated, and a plan for my future.

Yes, I still have a soul-sucking day job and the job that I love is cheating me out of money (that is a topic for another day), but I can fix that. I have my "I Quit" speech all planned out.

I can honestly say that I think the real me, that girl from the Boulevard, is back and she is wiser and feeling better than ever. I suggest you watch out because when I loose the last of this baby weight it is going to be on and I mean for real.

Like, FOR REAL-FOR REAL!

Wardrobe Malfunction

I would like to start this off on a bright note. I am pretty sure that I am finally starting to lose my neck fat. My arms are also slimming down and if I really wanted to brag I would point out that I was on pace for my run for like the first time in weeks.

I am really excited about the progress that I am making. I am even more excited to report that I will be going out with Husband this weekend. You heard me right. I will be going on a date with my hubby on a Saturday night like we used to before having 2 kids and 4 jobs. I am super excited with the exception of one small problem.

I now have nothing to wear for a night out. Back when I was pregnant, I put all of my cute "going out" shirts in a box because I did not want to see them. When you are rocking 50 extra pounds, can't see your feet, and are being used as temporary housing, the last thing you want to see is cute shirt that you can't fit. So, I packed them up and put them away for a day when I would once again enter the world of people who hang out.

I, finally, after months of procrastination cleaned and organized my closet. I got rid of so many things that I had been holding onto unecessarily. The one thing I did not see while I was cleaning up was my box of cute shirts. It seems that Husband may have given them to charity. I am now without a single "hot girl" shirt and I don't want to go out looking like someone's mom. As it stands, my best outfit choices are either cute mom or good employee on Casual Friday. The runners-up are church member and grad student. Neither one of these categories screams, "Look how hot I am after having two kids!" I am not even sure they say, "I am really happy to be out with my man for the first time in over a year."

I have been trying to be more fiscally responsible and not shop as much, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I think this is one of those times. The new question is where should I go? I am too old to shop in one of those stores where you know you only get between 1 and 3 wears and I don't get out enough to invest in something really nice with a price point that will force me to wear it everytime we go out. I stopped shopping at Guess when I quit being a fluzzy. I hate Macy's because it is so crowded and cluttered and the employees are too busy stealing to be of any asssistance. Also, the last time I went to Macy's the restrooms were so filthy that the cleaning woman was wearing a mask to clean the restroom (They did not pay her enough.) and I could not bear the thought of the air in there touching my skin. I just got a new car, which for me means, designer labels are not practical right now.

So, what is between Forever 21 and Ann Taylor? Target? Sears? Do they even still sell clothes at Sears or are they strictly appliances now?

Has it been that long since I bought clothes? My wardrobe needs a jolt of sex appeal. Where do hot moms shop? I feel so out of the loop.

Can I Google that?

You Know Better

Yesterday, as I was walking through the office I saw a the man known as Pantene. He is called that because of his über fabulous hair. I am not lying when I say that it is amazingly picture perfect and camera ready. He is cute too with hot ivy league frat boy looks, but the hair is really the prize. With that said, it may strike you as odd that I generally do not pay him that much attention because like any nice picture or great vase, all I need is that first good look. He is not someone that I want to talk to or spend time with so he is pretty much an office decoration. I mean, even if you thought that pop art photo of the flower or art deco clock was SO CUTE when you first saw it, after a while you start to forget it is there. That is how I feel about Pantene.

The point is that as I was walking by I noticed that he was engaged in conversation with the new intern. My first thought was, "Isn't that nice. He is making her feel welcome." As I got closer that warm and fuzzy feeling was replaced with a "For real, Dude?" feeling as I realized that this grown man was macking on the intern. Are you serious? Don't you have a girlfriend? Don't answer that because the answer is yes. I know the answer is yes because people in the office have not only met her, but repeatedly made fun of the tacky leopard print that she was wearing.

This feeling was only heightened when I realized that they were bonding and talking about hanging out in the same place. There is no where other than church, the supermarket or the mall that the intern and I should have in common and even then we should be in different areas. I am a grown woman. He is a grown man. She is one step away from being a teenager. We should not be running the same circles and if we are one of us should be embarrassed to be seen there.

He, however, is not embarrassed Really, Finn (Glee reference) was college that great that you refuse to graduate socially. Those pretty boy good looks are not going to mean much when you become that weird creeper dude at the pub crawl. Right, David Wooderson? (Matt McConaughey in Dazed in Confused. You remember the line, right. "Naw, man. That's what I like about these high school girls; I get older, they stay the same age.") Is that who you want to be. Good grief. Is it that hard to do better?

We laugh at that guy. We are laughing at you, Pantene.

Finishing School

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

A finishing school (or charm school) is "a private school for girls that emphasises training in cultural and social activities." The name reflects that it follows on from ordinary school and is intended to complete the educational experience, with classes primarily on etiquette. It may consist of an intensive course, or a one-year program.

 

I bring this up because of the increasing number of interactions I have had or heard about with people whose behavior is truly out of order. It is like every interaction is some snipet or parody of Basketball Wives. Everyone wants to be a Diva, Drama Queen, or Bad Girl. I for one am over it. These chicks and dudes need to learn some manners. They also need to learn to walk in heels because I am severly annoyed and over women clopping around like Frankenstein. Practice or wear flats, really...I mean it.

 

People can laugh at the idea of going to school to learn how to walk, talk and be a lady, but the way I see people acting out like spoiled toddlers with bad parents, the more I come to realize that we as a country need more finishing schools.

 

The time for finishing schools have passed as women developed more options for their life trajectory than wife and hostess. The problem is that we have lost the art of appropriate social interaction. We talk to loud about inappropriate topics in stores. We have huge private issue fights in the mall and on street corners. We clap and watch as grown women fight over nonsense and grown men throw things in what looks like steroid rage. At first I thought is was so that we could laugh and thank God that we don't act like that idiot, but now I see millions of people lined up to emmulate this clowns.

 

What is wrong with you people? Do you know that cursing at work is one of the number one reasons for being skipped over for a promotion? Do you know that inappropriate dress is also at the top of the list? There is a reason why Snooki does not have an office job. There is a reason why NeNe is on Glee and not behind the desk of a Fortune 500.

 

That is why I am saving my old hard back dictionary. Suga Booga is totally going to be walking acroos the living room with it on her head because whether she becomes Miss America or a fighter pilot, she will need to look like she has some sense.

 

Head straight, shoulders back and mouth shut. Heck, I may even save one for LoLo.

The Problem (It Is About To Get Serious)

I am a member of several groups. I am a woman. I am an Black-American. I am a Christian. (Holla if you love Jesus! I can't hear you...whatever. I am getting used to being alone on that one.) I am a wife. I am a mother. I, like many of you, am a multifaceted human being with numerous small group affiliations. I did notice, however, that no matter the group I tend to be listed as what can be termed "a minority". Some may argue that being a Christian in this country makes me a majority member in at least one context, but judging by the behavior of most of the "Christians" I meet there is clearly something wrong with the self-reporting process or the definition has been made so broad as to include anyone with a vague understanding of the Jesus Christ/Redemption story, but I digress.

I realized, while watching back to back episodes of a show called Love Addiction (It sucked me in hard and fast), that all of my groups have the same problem and it must be addressed. The problem is...they want other people to care about them more than they care about themselves. Yes, black people, I am talking to you. Yes, women, I am most definitely talking about you.  Christians, you too!

If there is one thing that I have learned about people in groups it is that the group in charge is not going to give up control if they don't have to and it is easy to forget about those at the bottom when you are on the top. So, no I don't agree with Kanye when he says that George Bush doesn't care about black people. I don't think that he would intentionally cause the deaths and devastation to minorities and purposely an unhealthy chaotic environment that would result in mass dehydration and various atrocities. That would be terrible and I don't think that if it had been presented that way he would have taken that road. I do, however, believe that we have allowed ourselves to become an afterthought.

We have allowed our neighborhoods to become overrun with businesses that we don't own because of our ridiculous need to prove that "our money" is good enough for "their shops". We have allowed ourselves to accept a system that denies us loans so much so that we will even refuse to fund each other. We have allowed our children to become irresponsible parents and said it was okay to be complacent with low level work as long as you qualify for a subsidy. We have allowed ourselves to stray from moral integrity and given other groups permission to profit off of our denigration of ourselves by over-sexualizing the image of our women and undermining the importance of our men. Yet we want the government and other groups (white people) to come in and help fix problems that we continually perpetuate. Here is some news for you. They don't care about fixing your problems anymore than you do and they shouldn't. They have their own problems. (Trust me. I have enough white friends to know that the grass is not always green on their side too- more so if you are rural, poor or uneducated.) Why would they give up power to or work to benefit a group that does not act like the deserve better, doesn't act like they want better, and doesn't act like they can handle better. And I don't want to here any of that, "I am not like that stuff" because a chain is only as strong as the weakest link and it only takes one bad apple to spoil the bunch. You may be a genius, but as long as they let Pookie get on the news cameras talking about how he "seent the whole thang" and we keep equating "being real" with "thug life" we have a problem.

Yes there are moments where I revel at being a part of a group in which even someone who talks like an illiterate buffoon with too much spit in his mouth can be considered a game changer and taste maker or where a two-bit hood can fund one of the most amazing music groups (cough*NWA*cough) ever, but those should just be options for our kids to consider - not the gold standard. We need to do better. Stop petitioning for more funding if you haven't shown that the money already spent has helped. Stop griping and just do better.

Women, you all are out of control. We have no idea what we want and we blame everyone else for our not having a clear agenda. We want it all and I can both understand and relate to that, but when you wrap that desire in a blanket of insecurities you wind up with CRAZY! That is what I see all day long. We want the Prince Charming that will sweep us off our feet, adore us, laugh with us, make us feel beautiful AND respect our brilliance and ambition, but we don't feel any of those things for ourselves. We deflect compliments. We undermine our own work performance and we undervalue ourselves at every turn. The next time someone- particularly a man- says you look nice, just say "Thank you" not some variation of "Oh, this old thing!". He does not care that you got it on sale at Target. Trust me. The next time a coworker compliments your work, agree. You might even share an aspect of your success that you were not anticipating because I have news for you. Nobody get promoted for saying the work they do doesn't matter. If you don't think you are good enough to treat yourself well, then why should others even bother to respect you. If you tell me you are an idiot I will believe you and probably tell other people the same thing. Then we will get together and treat you like an idiot. Don't be mad at me for taking you at your word. I am really sorry that your Daddy never loved you right and I am sorry that the Romeo to your Juliet turned out to be a douche. I am sorry that your dance teacher said you had "bad" feet- whatever that means, but you need to get it together and regain some control. Those people are fools for not loving you and for undervaluing your possible contribution, but you are CRAZY for going out of your way over and over again trying to prove them right about your lack of worth and then getting mad about it. It is not their problem. They are happy with how things are; if you aren't, you should change it.

Lowering your standards does not keep you from getting hurt. It keeps you from reaching your full potential and acheiving your real dreams. Let's do better, ladies.

Lastly, Christians are out of control. I don't even think we know if we are coming or going and for some reason we want government to regulate all those issues that we can't seem to handle. We are so busy trying to prove that we matter and that our opinions should matter to everyone that we have lost sight of the one thing that we were supposed to be doing. We are called to love with Christ's love and to spread the message of His life, death, and resurrection. What that has to do with Welfare, Taxes, Unemployment Abortion, and Gun Rights, I will never know. We want to be accepted so badly by outside groups that we weigh in on everything- good, bad or indifferent. We just want to feel like we still mater. So much so that we will turn on each other, regardless of how much it undermines that Gospel message.

Pray on it, then do better. 

Really...it is like a bunch of whinny babies. Love me, hear me, help me, care about me. What for! Why should I care about you when you clearly don't. Why should I treat you better than you treat yourself? Why should I stop hitting you if you seem so content with me knocking you down? It just doesn't make any sense.

It is like I tell my clients. I will help you as much as I can, but I refuse to want it more than you!

Natural

I hate my job!

There, I finally said it out loud and made it official. This job is killing me from the inside out. I am no longer excited when I get up in the morning. Getting dressed has become a chore. I often find myself zoned out while staring at my cuticles. (Note to self- get a manicure. Your hands look a mess!)

I am so convinced that they are out to get me and make my life miserable that paranoia has reached fever pitch. I know that they listen to my conversations- both on the phone and at my desk. I know that they monitor my in and out time, but now I am convinced that Boss Lady is following me around the office and taking note of what I am doing while at my desk.

She makes an excuse to come out of her office and stand close to me several times a day now. She will ask me about things that she thinks that she sees on my screen (I say "thinks" because she is usually asking about something that I am either not looking at or an advertisement.) and has taken to giving people who stop to say hello dirty looks.

Even when I try to come in the door on the other side of the office, she is over there too. She is everywhere and it is driving me crazy. I caught her trying to keep track of the number times I go to the bathroom the other day. Are we SERIOUS people? There  is no way that you can ease that into the conversation.

I have got to get out of here before things get any worse. I know you may be thinking that it could not get worse, but I don't believe that and I don't want to stick around long enough to find out what worse looks like.

They jump on me the minute that I walk into the door and don't stop coming until the day is done. Just today, Young Boss tried to tell me how to mail a form. I don't mean that he told me how to fill out the form or the address for it to be sent, but how to put it in the envelope and send it out. He then followed it with, "I probably didn't have to tell you that." No, but thank you for showing just what you think of me and how badly our working relationship has gotten.

The honeymoon is definitely over. The only thing left is to call the lawyers. We are done here.

Mary J

My mother graduated college with a degree in music in the mid-1960's. (I am not allowed to give exact dates.) She LOVES music. She can sing in multiple languages, but is only fluent in English. Growing up I was the only little black girl I knew in Queens who could sing along to Randy Travis, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Aretha. I am still probably the only person from my block who can tell the difference between Bon Scott and Bono. (Big difference, HUGE.)

I grew up listening to everything and music has helped to shape so many of my memories. I remember I wanted to be Sandi Patty until I saw the album cover and realized she was blond and white. I decided I would rather sing like her than look like her. I knew that Aretha Franklin or James Cleveland on a Saturday morning meant my mother was cleaning. I knew that if my dad was singing Marvin Gaye he was trying to get out of the proverbial doghouse. Music was everywhere.

Like most girls my age, I grew up loving Whitney and Janet. I knew there songs and all their moves. I had brief love affairs with Jody Wately and played Sade until my parents started to worry. I also held my ear as I sang along with Mariah. There was nothing particularly ground breaking, but the music was fun and it made me feel good. I knew what I liked and these women presented it in just the right package. Life was good.

Then one day in 1992 I heard this sound and saw a video that rocked me to my core and changed my life forever. It was so simple..."dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun, duuunnn dun dun...dun dun dun". It was Real Love by Mary J Blige and it produced the most visceral reaction I have ever had to a song in my life. Even now as I am typing I feel that initial excitement. It was so fresh and new and felt so right. I knew that something special had just happened to me.

As I looked up to see what was going on I was met with that first sight of her and it was like the world opened up. She was AWESOME. I will always love Whitney, Janet, and Mariah, but they were never someone that I thought I could look like or talk to, but Mary looked like the girls I knew, just better. She looked like me, or at least I wanted to believe I looked. She looked like an "Around The Way Girl" for real. I could see her "standing at the bus stop sucking on a lollipop" and rocking "bamboo earrings, at least two pair".

She broke my world wide open. She in that one song, in that one video, let me know that I was okay just the way that I am. I did not have to look like someone else or sound like I was from somewhere else. I could be 'hood and still look like a woman. I could rock my combat boots with some short shorts. She showed me I did not have to hide my scars to be pretty and I loved her from the moment I saw her.

Mary has grown so much since then and I feel like I have grown with her. We have been through man problems (Not Goin Cry), Self Acceptance (Just Mary, All That I Can Say), Sadness (I Just Want To Be Happy, My Life), Growth (No More Drama), Love (Be With You) and Happiness/Joy (Just Fine, Good Love). When she sings I don't just sing along, I feel it. I feel like she understands. I feel less alone. I feel like it will be okay.

I have to thank Andre Harrell for finding and signing her. I have to thank Puffy for working with her. Most importantly I want to thank Mary for not being afraid to be her. To be that perfect mix of vulnerable and strong, transparent, but mysterious. I want to thank her for being with me from the beginning of my womanly understanding to now and for being there for wherever life takes us next.

Thanks, Mary.

Secrets

What ever happened to secrets?

It seems like nobody can keep their mouth shut about anything anymore. The only place a person can hope for confidentiality these days is with a priest or a therapist and even then it seems like some creeper is always outside the door waiting to tweet what you said or put a picture of you walking out on Facebook.

It is ridiculous. Everyone is snitching about everything all the time. It is tiresome. It leaves nothing to the imagination. I just read that Brian Johnson from AC/DC is going to be writing a memoir. I am sure he is going to spill all the "crazy" details of life on the road as a rock star and that he will sell a lot of books. Good for him. Frank Langella has one where he tells ALL about his free and easy bed-hopping. He tells tales and names names. It is sure to be a hit, but as much as I love to know more about people than I should, I miss the sense of mystery and having to look for the dirt.

I miss wondering what it would be like to be a rock star and wondering what it was they did on that bus with the dark windows. I have seen enough Behind the Music and read enough Rolling Stone to feel like I know what happens. I just miss the wonderment of it all.

It is not just celebrities, politicians, rock stars, and athletes. It is "everyday" people. People are constantly updating their status and informing the world of their every waking moment. Status updates have rendered the previously typical conversation starter, "So what did you do today?" null and void. I already know and so does half the world because your account is not private. If not for the fact that I refuse to get hooked on "The Facebook" I would not be able to ask the question to any of my friends. I like to think that I am doing my part to keep the art of conversation alive. (Not really true, but it sounded good when I wrote it.)

I am sure that I told you, but I went out for Jiggas birthday and had to duck and run when I saw some guy taking video/pictures as he approached our group. I don't know you. I don't want anyone to think I know you and I have no idea what you plan to do with those pictures. It is like that Las Vegas commercial where the woman's friends keep leaving her because she had put pictures of them on the internet.

I am more than capable of telling on myself. I do not need help from others. When did my business cease to be my business? When you broke out the camera phone! I can't even fall without fear that someone is going to You Tube it before helping me up. It is disturbing. I even see people doing it during Sunday morning service. Who wants to have their walk to alter twitpic'd? Not me. There is just no place of solace anymore.

In the age of the 24 hour news, entertainment news, everything is news cycle, I sometimes just wish there were still some secrets.

Hey, Old Me

The other day, my bestest friend Chyna lost all the pictures off of her I-Pad. This led her to start looking though all her old photos. She sent me some of these hidden gems. Which included a few pictures of us from junior high and high school. When I see that young girl smiling back at me thinking that she is so smart and so cool, I think of all the things I wish I had really known then as opposed to what I thought I knew.

I am not one of those people who says, "I wouldn't change a thing because all of those things- big and small- made me who I am today." Horse manure. I don't subscribe to that at all. There are lots of things that I would change if I could talk to that girl. The only problem is that I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't listen.

I would, however, tell her a few essentials none the less.

1. Stay away from guys named Jason. I am not saying that there are not good ones. I am saying that I don't attract them. Janaan + Jason = DRAMA and Heartbreak! Just don't do it. Junior high Jason was not that big of a deal, but when you meet High School Jason, RUN. If you don't run the first day, then run the minute he lies and says that he did not call you because he got bit in the face by a dog. It only gets worse from there. Trust me. College Jason means well, but he is a mess and will only bring out the messy parts of you. He does, however, make you laugh and should be considered for a position in the "Friend Zone".
2. Enjoy those flat abs while you have them. Take lots of pictures and wear all the 90's midriff barring shirts you can because after 2 kids and passing into your 30's you will miss them and look back fondly on the days when your stomach stopped moving when you did.
3. Go to the doctor. That weird feeling in your stomach is not normal and has nothing to do with your cycle. Look it up and get me some help before when end up on steroids and lose the abs.
4. Try harder and stop being so easily embarrassed. You are smart and that is not something  to be ashamed of. Stop talking to people who feel threatened by intelligence and potential. Most importantly, stop dating them. Like the guy who stole your id card after he got kicked out in the hopes that you would cut school with him. (Yeah, I still remember him. Leave him alone before he asks you to pay his court fees.) Your real friends will love and support you.
5. Keep trying. You did a really good job fighting off most of the peer pressure. I was especially impressed by your saying no to drugs and alcohol. You did not always graduate with honors, but you graduated. You are going to hate your first MA program, but I think you should go anyway. It ends well. You are not going to be famous, but you will thank me for that later when you see how much different "The Real World" becomes and your refusal to become a stripper or worse. (I am glad we did not listen to James about that one.)

Even as I am typing, I am flooded with all these memories and little nuggets of wisdom. Like, it is really ironic and not okay to steal fancy paper from Kinko's for the Criminal Justice Honor Society induction ceremony. You are never going to cook in college, so just leave all that crap in the box. Tattoos really are permanent and that means FOREVER. Don't go home with strangers, no matter how cute he is and good job avoiding that kidnapper.

Most importantly I want to encourage her. I want her to know that she is much prettier than she gives herself credit for and much stronger than anyone around her knows. She is a good friend and is in store for lots of really REALLY good times. I want her to enjoy and not worry so much because everything will work out just right.

Lastly, make sure you talk to that hot guy on the train (you will know who I am talking about the moment you see him). He turns out to be PERFECT and the key to your Happily Ever After!

Sexy? Maybe Not

As a married woman with 2 kids and a closet full of clothes that don't fit quite the way I remember or would like them to, I spend a decent amount of time commiserating with my girlfriends about clothes. We spend virtually every lunch hour looking at magazines and getting a good laugh at all the things that we "must have" for the season and all those "must try" looks.

These lunch times giggles are often the source of blog inspiration and today is no different. While looking through a very prominent fashion magazine I stumbled upon an outfit that they suggested I try. This outfit included, among other things, what looked like a pair of button up light denim overalls. What? They could not be serious. We of course laughed about how hard it is to go to the bathroom in overalls, but then something even more interesting happened....

Janaan: You just can't look good taking off a pair of overalls. Somethings are just not sexy.
Jigga: (faking popping the shoulder snap and flinging over her shoulder in a mock strip tease) What!?! You could put an eye out.

Thus the beginning of my newest list.

10 Things That Make It IMPOSSIBLE To Look Sexy While Taking Off:

1. Onesies of any kind. Special marks for leotards- the old ones with snap at the crotch get special mention because there is nothing sexy about about undressing someone the same way you go to change a diaper. There was some question about rompers. I say no. Lotus says she thinks maybe if it is a silky material, but then JJ Santana and Jigga pointed out that silk won't fall right if you have been sweating which will result in a weird fabric pull and police pat-down stance. Therefore, it is also a no.

2. Overalls. There are a very limited number of appropriate places for overalls- farming/construction/intense yard work and there is a reason why even the stripper versions of these archetypes are not wearing overalls. That is because even the knowledge of impending nudity cannot make this a hot look. It may the association with childhood, or the knowledge that those straps probably hit the bathroom floor, but this one is a fail.

3. Skinny jeans. This one may seem like a shocker since they look so good on, but the wiggle maneuver that you did to get in is the same one that you use to get out and scrunching them down section by section is not hot. It is also made less sexy if you have to ask someone else to get the ankle and pull. (Some of you know what I mean.)

4. Socks. Stockings, YES! Stockings with a garter, HECK YEAH! Socks, WOMP-WOMP! Not even close. This does not mean that you should keep them on, but you should know that they are like a Band-Aid. Their removal should be quick and painless. I am not just talking about as a preamble to sex. I mean this in general. It is not sexy to watch someone play with the ridges and indents left by the sock and it is also not sexy to watch someone hop on one foot because they refuse to just sit and get it over with.

5. Spanx. They make the list for some of the same reason that skinny jeans make the list. It is hard to get out without making a scene. The other problem is that as you make your exit from Spanx so do all the things that you were hoping to cover up.

6. Corsets. They look SO good on/ We all look like one of Vicky's Angels when we are cinched, locked and loaded, but getting out is process. You will either have to unhook or loosen one by one. The last time I checked- tedium was not sexy. Besides, that is one item that is best left on. You will both feel better about that decision. Trust me.

7. Wigs. There is no good way to take your hair off. It is just a jarring sight. It does not matter how many times someone has seen it or if they knew it was a wig. It ends up like that scene in "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka", when the lady takes off not just her wig, but her butt and her leg.

8. Ridiculously Strappy Tops. There was a time, back in my party phase, when I wore some pretty intricate tops. This was mostly due to the fact that the shirts consisted solely of strategically placed straps. This made getting in a work of art. If you have to your top on the bed and strategize how to get into it because there is no tag or other natural indicator to decipher the front from the back, you have a problem. This problem extends to undressing. There is nothing sexy about being trapped in your shirt, with one arm hanging over your head and the other elbow where your boob should be. Just cut yourself out and save yourself the trouble.

9. Eyelashes. I feel like that is self explanatory, but much like hair, it is just one of those things that are expected to stay on.

10. I will leave this one open to suggestions. Please feel free to comment.

What do you think - biker shorts, stirrup pants, wetsuits? Let me know.

Little Girls

What happened to little girls?

What happened to pretty dresses, tea parties, tomboy overalls, ruffled butt tights, and Mary-Jane shoes. Every where I go I see little girls dressed like grown women in the throws of a mid-life crisis. I can barely find outfits for my daughter that have not either been drenched in glitter or looks like a stripper's clothes after going in the dryer. She is one. She does not need heels, strapless dresses, or a seXXXy message tee.

I mean really! There is no reason for a six year old to wear heels that don't click clack (tap shoes) ever! I just don't get it. I am not sure where the line should be drawn because I will admit that I get a good chuckle out of a baby girl in those tank top bikinis. I love how fat and happy they look on the beach before they get to the age where rolls and bikinis no longer mix well. I, however, can't get behind push up bikinis and bandeau tops for little girls. (I have to admit that I may be anti-bandeau in general.)

I don't really get why we want our little girls to be mini-skirt wearing, finger-snapping, neck-rolling, and booty-bouncing. If that is what she is doing at 8, what does she have to look forward to doing at 18. You better put that child in some pig tails and make wearing lipstick "the GREAT rebellion".

I was at church this Sunday and they were saluting the graduates. Some the those girls going to junior high looked like they had been left back a couple of times based on size and what their parents deemed appropriate to wear to church and frankly, my first thought is that if you will wear your dress that tight to church you are more than likely a hot janky mess Monday - Saturday.

What is so wrong with looking like a little girl and cherishing the innocence of those moments while they last. She will get enough cat calls in her lifetime that she does not have to start so young.

I blame the Olsen twins for this mess. That is right. You heard me. It was not until those two started selling grown up clothes to little girls at Walmart and created what we now call the "tween" market that this even became an issue. I really have nothing against the Olsens. I understand that they needed to wear big girl clothes to their board meetings and red carpet events, but most 8-12 year old girls are not running a multi-million dollar company. Most of them don't even sell their own girls scout cookies. (You know I'm right.) So why does she need to dress like a grown woman.

We dress them up and laugh when they act like some version of the sassy best friend/stripper with a heart of gold and then get mad because they are "acting grown" when we decide it is time to parent.

I might be alone in this, but I really miss "sugar, spice, and everything nice" little girls.

Think Positive

I decided to challenge myself a while ago to only write positive things this year and here are some things about which I am positive.

1. I am positive that I am by far the most well-rounded and well-adjusted member in my family and that they have conspired to make me one of them. (i.e. crazy)

2. I am positive that the birds in my neighborhood know about daylight savings and have begun chirping an hour earlier.

3. I am positive that if my 30's don't start to get better by next year I am going to skip ahead and start telling people that I am 40.

4. I am positive that my current job should not require a college degree.

5. I am positive that my next job should involve something that I actually went to school for because I am not paying back that loan on a busted investment.

6. I am positive that in most cases, my talent outweighs my desire.

7. I am positive that at this very moment I am overwhelmed by my life and would give most anything for just a moment of peace.

8. I am positive that the number of clothes in my closet that I hate have somehow multiplied and reached an unmanageable level. They are driving me crazy.

9. I am positive that waiting for your closet to clean itself out is not an effective strategy.

10. I am positive that when I am not in a good mood, stupid and people who live to provoke me come from all directions.

Honestly?

When I woke up this morning I thought I was going to write about my hair or what has finally motivated me to do ab workouts (for real this time- wink, wink) and not just run. Then I had a conversation with Lotus that changed everything. Don't worry loyal readers. I have not all of a sudden become deep or profound. I will total go back to my typically shallow conversation and self-centered babble, but today (for a moment) I want to talk about honesty.

News flash...people lie and not always because they are bad people, but sometimes because they know that we really don't want to know the truth. I pray a good deal and I still lie. I lied to myself earlier today when I told myself that I would learn to keep my thoughts to myself about my friends and their relationships. I knew it was a lie when I heard myself think it and Lotus knew it was a lie when she looked at me trying to listen without making any comments or asking any questions.

As we chatted about a friend and her guy, I found myself fighting the urge to jump in, but I surprised myself I did something that I rarely do. I listened from the beginning to end of the story without interrupting. That taught me something. I felt the same way at the end as I did at the beginning. Lesson: Listening is pointless! (I'm joking!)

What I did learn is that my issue with honesty extends beyond myself. I lied when I said I would keep my opinions to myself, but I also was not sure how honest I wanted to be about my opinions. I will blame what happened next on my ponytail being too tight and making impossible to filter my thoughts effectively. I just came out and said it. "She wants to breakup, but she doesn't want to admit it or hurt his feelings." That is not as exact quote, but you get the jist.

It felt good to say it. That or talking was loosing the aforementioned ponytail, which at this very moment is so tight that I am typing with my head tilted to one side, but I digress.

I thought about all the times I watched someone tell an obvious lie and wondered what was the point of even saying it because I was clearly not going to believe. Such was the case today. I knew as the words escaped my mouth that I was lying. I was going to say what I thought because that is what I always do and what my friends have come to expect even when they want me to go into counseling mode and "practice silence". (That really is a skill; I did not make that up.)

The thing is, I know when I am lying. I knew that keeping my opinion to myself was a pipe dream. I also have a pretty good idea when other people are lying and homegirl was lying when she said she doesn't want to break up. If he has to change to be the guy that you want to date/marry then he is not the guy you want to date/marry. If he is not the guy then you will sooner or later want to break-up. All the time in between is a waste and a delay of the inevitable. What she means is that she doesn't want to break up right now and I get the feeling he has sniffed out her lie of ommision and is acting out. The only person not in on the lie is our friend.

Does that make her the Kris Humpries in this mess? Honestly?