Change

Change.

Why does that one little word cause fear and trepidation sometimes? Why are we as people often scared of change? It has happened to all of us at various points in our lives. Remember when you felt that little twinge of fear because you were going from middle school to high school filled you up all the way to your pinky finger? Or, when you were about to go to college or start a new job, or go on a blind date. It is the fear of the unknown that sometimes guides us and stifles us, when really and truly “when God closes one door, he opens a window”. We should embrace change because after all, it IS one of the ONLY things in life that is certain. Right??? Well, why in the HELL are we soooo scared of it then???

I was talking with my husband last night and he and I were talking about the possibility of us moving back to his home, Atlanta. The thought has been in the back of my mind as in “yeah, yeah….oh, o.k. that would be cool…..yeah, yeah..” But yesterday, due to some fluke of nature, it looks like he might actually be able to transfer to another location in Atlanta! He was talking to some of his superiors about the possibility of taking a job in Atlanta and he said that though they were surprised about the possibility of losing a valuable employee here, they seemed very positive and it seemed that it would a strong possibility for him to get this job in Atlanta. I mean, while he was in his boss’s office, his boss called the top person in Atlanta and he had an impromptu interview!Lawd, when I heard this my heart instantly filled with dread! Why you ask? Well….. it’s because of that fear I was just talking about. I have been wanting to make a change…in career, in my life in general, but just didn’t know how. Maybe this is the impetus that will spearhead something bigger and better! I guess it’s because of the “unknown” that I feel fearful. I do not know why I fear change so much….I think it was partially ingrained in me by my mother. She has always been the “responsible, settled” type of person. But hell, I guess since she was raising a child alone, she had to be if I were to have any semblance of a “normal” childhood. But I have always been that way….don’t wanna rock the boat….don’t wanna cause too much fuss…. but she always had a nouth….just like me.... It’s that mouth that get’s ya in trouble sometimes

But I think that it’s time to turn this life on it’s ear. It’s time. I’m 35 and I do think that it would be a great thing to make a change. I really want to branch out and make use of my skills in a new venue. It seems as though each and every time I start to think about change, I cringe. Well, no more!! I do believe that God puts us in places where we need to be…if we let him. And it might be time for me to get OUT of this city, the city I grwew up in, the city I call home and find a NEW city to love. This city is stagnant and I think that I have outgrown it. I need new scenery to create a new reality. So, in retrospect, if my husband does get this new job, I can get a new start in a new place and keep it movin onward and upward to a new and *improved * me.

Biscuits, man hips, birthdays and money....

This is going to be a random post cuz, well… I’m feeling random today!

Can you tell me why men are always trying to get the biscuits (the ass, as it was) and why most women are o.k. just cuddling sometimes? Why are men on the proverbial hunt 24-7? I was talking to a friend of mine about his exploits and he was telling me how he was trying to “holla” at a whole SLEW of women, I suppose to “flood the market” and see what comes out in the wash type of thing. Women can be O.K. with getting to know you and then hitting it. But men….off RIP, they’re trying to RIP something off!!! Men and women really are from two different planets. Now don’t get me wrong, sex is a lovely thang. As I get older I guess that (if I were single) I would be so much more selective about who gets the “biscuits”. Not to say I was “out there” like THAT…..I don’t want X to have to question that status like in this post. (hee hee)

Why am am always besieged by folks who can’t drive??? I was on the freeway and this woman cuts me off (like she didn’t EVEN see me AND like she has an extra ASS AT HOME). And then she gives me a dirty look like I just suddenly sped up just to maek HER commute miserable. I just had to laugh before I was tempted to go off on a through-the-window tirade on her ass!! Women are the WORST drivers!!! Yes, I said it! Women.are.the.worst.drivers. I swear if you did a study on the percentage of accidents caused by women, I bet at least HALF would be by women!! The other half would be comprised of middle-aged balding grey-haired men with sports cars and teenage boys. (hmmm…..maybe I’ll look that up somewhere.)

I was in the kitchen area at my job today and this man walks by with “woman hips”. You know the type….they’re usually overweight and unlucky enough to have a tendency to store fat on their hips JUST like women do. They do not look gay or anything, they just look ….well…… like a woman! It’s unfortunate AND disgusting to me! This guy was about 5’ 6”, looked to be about 260 pds. and thanks to them hips, was a waddlin’ ass. I just watched as the tight Polly & Ester screamed for relief! ( He also had a slight knock-knee syndrome going on too ya’ll). But as I said to my co-worker, “it’s better that those pants were slightly tight than too loose cuz he’d really look like a sloppy bubblin mess!” I feel so sorry for those men with hips…..

My birthday is Saturday…… *yawn*…. I am soooo unexcited about it. I will be 35. And I now need to get on the stick (pun intended) if I wanna have another kid. I need to do it before my ovaries dry up and blow away….for real.(hee hee) I just don’t feel like celebrating and I think it’s because I’m broke as a damn joke. Shame, huh? Well, we‘ve had a number of things that have “popped up” recently and have just drained ANY resources we have. Then my husband goes on this “we should be saving more…..see….if we were saving…..” ya, ya , ya…. I know, I know. I am an admittedly HORRIBLE saver. It’s not that I think I’m gonna live forever, and subsequently have all the time in the world to save. I just believe in living very comfortably (as comfortable as I would like to). And I don’t mean keeping up with the Joneses. I feel like I don’t wanna look around when I’m 55 and have never driven a REALLY NICE (within reason) vehicle or have a nice armoir. Does that maek me too materialistic? I don't think so. I just don't wanna look like everything I have will fall apart if the wind blows. I can't help it. My mother always believed in having QUALITY surroundings. It didn't have to be the most expensive, as long as it was quality. And personally, I work TOO hard and deal with TOO much shit at work, NOT to have some things that I like. But on the flip side, I do (mentally at least) KNOW that you must save, etc. to have a comfortable retirement because when I can no longer work, I NEED to have something put aside and invested/saved. Til now….. I have been very lax on it.

I read something the other day on MSN.COM that said that if a kid aged 16 saves $2000 per summer for four summers, puts each of those $2000's in a Roth IRA, he/she will be a millionaire by the time they retire. WTF???? Why didn’t MY mom know about this shit???? I coulda been on my way a loooong time ago to having a fat ass retirement. And if you notice, that’s not even COUNTING any other money the child will save once he/she gets into the working world!!! Damn!! And this is why I have started a 529 plan for my son and why I have started to save for him. He’s 1. Hopefully by the time he’s 55, he can help his kids and do WAY more than my mother was able to do for me. And I do NOT fault my Mom, because information regarding saving/investing was NOT as easily accessed or as commonly just “floating” around like it is. You needed to be aware of someone who knew and we as black people, many times just didn’t know. So, I plan on providing a better life for my son and my family and will continue to persevere on my saving quest.

Have a great weekend ya'll!

In a minute...

Daddy's Little Girl...

This is something that I've often mused and therefore, what follows is an INCREDIBLY LONG post. Sorry in advance :)


Girls and their Daddy’s. I can remember, or rather, as LONG as I can remember, I did NOT have a “good relationship” with my father. I also wonder if this is what has caused me (as all of the reknowned psychologists have said) the issues that I’ve had in my adult relationships with guys. I cannot remember living with my father (as my mother and father were divorced when I was 3 and obviously before my conscious stream of memory can recall). My father was also an alcoholic. It took me years to speak those words. I often wondered why I could barely even think those words and could not bear to speak those words. I realized it was because father’s were not supposed to be alcoholics, fathers’ were not supposed to smell of E&J and father’s were supposed to be there. Period. I took those feelings that I kept close to my heart and internally locked them away. Sometimes I would act as if I didn’t have a father, making up stories or telling lies when people asked me what he did for a living.

My father was a General laborer with an 9th grade education who worked---get this---- for the State Liquor Commission. His day consisted of lifting. He lifted heavy boxes all day long. None were heavier than the feeling he put on my heart by not coming to visit or not calling or just not allowing me to ever say that I’m a “daddy’s girl”. He resented my mother because she went to college and would often tell me when I got old enough to understand him about the time when “your mother told everyone that I was a high school drop out….. she dogged me to everyone, including the people she worked with…they thought I wasn’t shit”. ANYONE who knows my mother KNOWS that you can’t even IMAGINE her saying anything as venomous and as mean as that. Especially seeing as though, she was still married to him when he claims this statement was made. The truth was, he thought he wasn’t shit. He was never taught how to love, so he never knew how to give it and didn’t love himself. But there were moments when he tried. He tried. There were “moments” where he was funny and was the Dad that I wished I had, but these moments were too spread apart and too fleeting. I didn’t understand all this until right before his death in 1994. He died of stomach cancer and I do think that the cancer was somehow partially caused by his daily imbibing of alcohol. I was 24.

I’ve often wondered what it would’ve been like to be a Daddy’s girl, to go to Daddy-n-me dances, to have my Daddy come a pick me up and swing me around and call me his angel, for me to be able to depend on my daddy –even if I couldn’t depend on NO ONE ELSE, daddy would be there. I wonder what it would feel like to have a snowball fight on a snowy day with my Dad and have him come in and make me a steaming cup of hot chocolate while we got warm from being outside. I wonder what it would be like to go to an amusement park with my Dad and laugh the day away and have cotton-candy sticky fingers, full hot dog bellies and fruit punch stained mouths. I wonder what it would be like to be proud to introduce my Daddy to a guy I was interested in and not wonder if that guy would see (inevitably) him drunk one day. I wonder what it would feel like to be close and be able to tell my dad secrets and feel protected in his love, as if I had an invincible shield protecting my heart that said “daddy” on it. I wonder.

When I was little, my mother and father supposedly had joint custody. Meaning,I was supposed to live with him for the summer months. This never happened. I believe that my mother, who would NEVER speak badly about him, to me at least, always felt my sadness and felt my pain. She never made me go, and he never fought to have me stay with him during the summer. I think it messed with his “bachelor life” too much. Though when I did visit, he did show me enough respect to NEVER have women around me or in our house and I do appreciate that. My mom saw the hurt in my eyes when my father would come to pick me up, drunk, and how much I didn’t want to go with him at those times. I didn’t understand the slurring of his words or the fumbling or the staggering appearance that he had and it frightened me. So, if he came looking like that, I begged her not to have to go.

He hardly ever made the time for me when I was a child and one of my most vivid recollections of him was when I was 4 years old and he was coming to get me. I was sooo excited that daddy was coming. I asked my Mom to do my hair in pigtails and to put on a dress. It was raining outside, so I got all dressed, coat and all, and waited by the window, hoping to hear the buzzer to our apartment. I waited. And waited. And cried, but I still waited. I watched the rain stream down the window panes echoing the tears streaming down my face. He never came that day or called. I don’t remember the next day or successive days or if he ever saw me until the “next” outing. All I remember is that day, I felt abandoned. My mother took my hand and took my coat off and we went into the dining room and had dinner. It was 8:00 and I’d been waiting insistently, at that window, since 4:00 because “if I just wait long enough, Daddy will come….he’s coming Mom, he’s coming”. I think she probably wanted to KILL my father for making me so sad, but she never let me know. She just tended to my wounded heart.

My mother was and is the best mother. Though I felt she was waaay too strict as I was her only child and I just KNEW she had a life in the nunnery planned for me, she was very loving and gentle. Whenever I got hurt, being that she was a nurse, she would attend to me with the cautious, calm rapidity seen in ER rooms. And because of that, whenever I got hurt when I was playing outside, it wasn’t until I SAW my mother’s face that I would break down. I used to HATE crying in front of ANYONE except my mother. Still do. But nothing she did could take away the pain that my father’s absence left on my heart.

Even as I grew older and came to live with him because my mother moved to Florida at the beginning of my senior year in H.S., I was resistant to being around him. I was living with him for a consistent year prior to going to college and I can say that in that year, a lot of growing occurred. I was pretty much on his own. My father provided a roof and food and small contributions of money here and there. My mother sent me money to my bank account every month which sustained the majority of my needs. By this time my father was “on disability” due to a worker’s comp back injury that he had sustained 5-6 years prior. So, all he did was collect a check and hang with his other drinking friends. He said I was secretive and I said nothing. I tried to be out of the house as often as possible and because my father was one to come home and drunkenly take over ANY conversation while I had company (no literally, he’d sit there and NOT LEAVE….for an hour if he wanted to…..and I DARED not ask him to leave. I did that one time with disastrous consequences. He proceeded to say, in front of my male company “what? Can I leave?!! This is my muthafuckin house!!! You don’t tell me to leave……” I was so embarrassed. All I could do is grin and bear it. So, I was ALWAYS trying to be OUT of the house.

Needless to say, I do think that because I have never seen a truly good father/daughter relationship, that I was more unsure of myself, and lacked in self-esteem growing up. Those are things that I feel girls get from their fathers in a different way than girls get that from their mother. Father’s give girls a feeling of security, and a feeling of completeness. Meaning, a man can only give you a man’s perspective on day-to-day trials and on life in general. My mother can only give me a woman’s perspective, and you need both to complete the circle. I have learned a lot from my male friends and counterparts and have completed that circle for the most part, as best I could. If I have a daughter I know that she will not have the type of father I had. She’ll have those daddy-n-me dinners, she’ll go to a museum or to a Opera with her dad, and she’ll learn to be treated like a lady by her dad.

My father taught me a lot and I have had to do much soul searching to come to grips with what was and what wasn’t in regards to our relationship, but one thing I do know is: I am my father’s daughter and I love him still… faults and all, there is some of him in my mannerisms, and occasionally in my attitude. But what can you do with the hand you’ve been dealt, but keep playing.

So, what do you think? Give me your opinions on how you think the absence of a father in a daughter’s life affects her and her subsequent relationships with men. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

The Five's That Make my Heartbeat

Ten years ago: 1995. I was juuuust BEGINNING to get over a deep depression caused by the break-up between me & my first love, Dave. It was the summer and I was just starting to feel “worthy of living” again. It was then that I vowed to NEVER let a man “steal my thunder, rob me of MY self-esteem or make me feel like I LITERALLY couldn’t live without him. My break up with my ex was necessary. By that I mean, I see that God put me where I was supposed to be and it was NOT with him. HE broke up with me and after I wrapped my mind around the fact that this was God's will and that it was NOT the end of the world, I began to heal. I was learning to love myself and my independence. This was also the resurgence of my Playa-Playa mode.....

Five years ago: I was about to turn 30 and was in a relationship with a wonderful, albeit “emotionally unavailable” type of man, whom was truly my best friend at the time, but I was beginning to realize that we couldn’t be together. I was also trying to get another job and figure out if I wanted to stay in the whole HR arena.

One year ago: I had a *brand-spanking new* still had the new car smell, 2 month old baby and had just gotten married 4 months prior to that. I was still on medical leave (yea!!!) and was just getting over a bit of postpartum depression and beginning to really enjoy my little stinker.

Yesterday: I went to work, picked up my son and went home. I gave the baby a bath, fed him and put him to sleep. Then my husband out some steaks & chicken on the grill and I feasted and fell out!!!

Today: Honestly? I haven’t done ANY work today….just been having an e-z-blogging kinda day. My boss or Odie(the other ass I work with) isn’t here, nor is my girl that I work with, so it’s quiet in my area. I’m gonna get my nails done after work, as I do every other Friday and take it on in.

Tomorrow: I’m going to go shopping for a new iron and for a dang carpet steam cleaner. We just moved into this brand-spanking new house last Nov. and I swear there are more spots on the dang carpet than on the moon!

5 snacks I enjoy: Baskin & Robbins Chocolate Chip, apple pie, key lime pie (as long as it’s the consistency of cheesecake and not like pudding), chips and movie popcorn

5 bands that I know the lyrics to most of their songs: Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band (holla at’cha gurl if ya feel me on this one!), Tribe Called Quest baby!, De La Soul, (some of ) Earth, Wind & Fire and Heavy D & The Boyz (heh heh, I’m takin ya back!)

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: Buy my Mom, my mother-in-law, brother & sister and brother-in-law a house. DEFINITELY take at least ½ and place it in a fund a live off the interest. Give my “circle of trust” friends a NICE Christmas gift, put 20 mil in a trust fund for my baby, QUIT MY GATDAMN JOB, and ……. Chill.

5 locations I’d like to runaway to:
Anyplace Carribean, Australia, my Mom’s house, France and Me-hee-co (Mexico)

5 bad habits I have: Cursing like I’ve lost alllll laldylike qualities (i.e. like a sailor), walking around the house with just a t-shirt and underwear on, not answering the phone when I don’t wanna be bothered, getting frustrated easily and SEVERE ROAD RAGE.

5 things I like doing: SHOPPING!!!!!, playing with my son, going to the movies, traveling, and did I mention shopping?

5 things I would never wear: a tube top, a tacky watch, anything cheaply made (because you end up looking just that…cheap) , hats that are big with flowers, and feathers and sequins, etc. on them, black nailpolish

5 TV shows I like: Extreme Home Makeover, Extreme Makeover, House, Being Bobby Brown (as stupid as it is…I MUST tune in to see their latest antics!) and the Dave Chappelle Show.

5 movies I like: Lord of the Rings (all…I’m counting this as one), Harry Potter (all ot them too…I’m counting this as one), The Color Purple, Imitation of Life, Pulp Fiction and Trading Places

5 famous people I’d like to meet: Oprah, Bill Clinton, The Rock, Maxwell and Samuel L. Jackson

5 biggest joys at the moment: My son, music, being at home with my husband, sleeping and shopping (heh heh)

5 favorite toys: Raggedy Ann, Barbie, Connect Four, Life and my bike

Uninvited Pest.....uh...I mean Guests

I got the idea for this post from NJ Diva Girl. She was talking about this guy that came to her home unannounced and that she could not have that.

I am soooooo in agreement with her! I hate, and I repeat, I HAAAAAATE it when friends, family, and ESPECIALLY when solicitors come by unannounced (I know, I know....it's not like the solicitors can call ahead, but STILL! LOL) !!! It is a seeeeeriousper peeve of mine.

It is simply rude and inconsiderate to do a "drive by" on someone, especially when that someone is ME!!! Anyone that knows me knows that when I am out I am typically the jovial, convivial life of the party! I am usually the bubbly fun, talkative one. There is a reason for this: I have this time ans place set aside FOR THAT.

If you stop by, unannounced, I may be in my draws, washing the tub, with a headscarf on with the baby running around like a wild banshee! I at that time do-FUCKING-NOT feel like a. geting dressed b. taking off my headscarf, c. or having company that I have to entertain ( via conversation or otherwise)! See, if I am prepared for youand in the mood, you will have a quite enjoyable time at my humble abode. However, if you are foolish (see: stupid as FUCK) enough to come unannounced, you WILL get the OTHER side of Robyn.....Esmeralda, the bitch. And you do NOT want to meet that hoe.

I do not like having company unannounced because like most women, if I am not "looking right" who wants to be on display???? And since I have a 13-month old, my house is in perpetual Toy/shit everywhere HELL!! I need time to clean up and make shit presentable so that I can at least FAKE you out and make being a divalicious, full time-working Mommy of a 13 month old look "effortless"! :-) No but for real, I do need people to see that we are NOT pigs and if you catch that house at juuuuuuust the RIGHT TIME......babeeeeee..... you might not evuh want to come back! Doing all this shit is hard work!! WHEW! I'm tired just talking about it!!!

Now, I have not intimated with this amount of specificity and detail how vehemently opposed to "drive-by's" I am. But one would think that I shouldn't have to and that muthafuckas' had been raised right. Uh-uh.....not the case.

Lemme tell you what happened a few months ago. Two of my girlfriends called me. I didn't answer. Why? Because I didn't want to be fucking bothered. No malice in that....just didn't want to talk or be bothered. They then called my cell phone. (they do this quite often, which I've never understood, because if I don't answer one....guess what.....no take a stab at it.....THAT'S RIGHT!! MY BLACK ASS AIN'T ANSWERIN THE OTHA ONE!)My friends also know that I am faaaaaaaaaaaaamous for not answering the phone and then calling back later. My theory with respect to that is this: I have alot of SHIT going on and if I'm just chilling,and do NOT want to talk then if I answer the phone, I WILL be funky and short and why even have a conversation like that cause the person on the other end will INEVITABLY say either to themselves or friend’s “What in the HELL is wrong with her??” Well, there’s nothing wrong with me other than I’m having a conversation that I don’t wanna have at the moment. Now, you see why it is best if I do NOT answer the phone if I am not up to it?????


Anywho...back to the lecture at hand....so they called BOTH numbers (and of course it was my one friend who I have to be in the mood to talk to anyway, who's number they were calling from) and I didn't answer. DOOOOOOOOONNN'T you know THEY THEN CAME OVER TO MY FUCKING HOUSE????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My husband went to the door cause we suuuuuure were not expecting anyone and in my wildest-retarded dreams did NOT think it would've been her! He comes upstairs and says "It's J & K". I had already heard their voices from upstairs because as previously detailed I was....in my draws, with a t shirt on, head scarf on, NOT presentable AT FUCKING ALL!!!!!! DAMMIT! I got'ta cuss yo mu'fucking ass out now!

So as I am angrily pulling on some sweatpants upstairs I'm saying to my husband "Oh, these bitches are about to hear a gatdamn EAR-FUL today....how DAAAARE they come over after I DIDN'T answer the phone! " He's like "Robyn.....be nice...." I'm like "Oh HEELLLLLLLLLS naw! Nice is what you get when you act like you have some HOME TRAINING....oh, so they wwere just gon' MAKE me see their ass, huh....Well, they bought the ticket and they gon get the show!" (yeah I was mad as hell....bout to pop a blood vessel and everything!)

So, I go down there and as RUDELY as I could say "Hi.... uh....what are you all doing here unanounced???? *looking shitty as HELL like 'what the FUCK were you thinking?'* You don't just IMPOSE yourself on someone's safe-haven!!!

They were like "Oh.... *with a shocked and confused look*...wellll.....we called" And I said “yes I KNOW you called, and I didn’t answer so why are you here? * insert shitty smile again

At this point, I was looking at them both like "SHUT THE FUCK UP, you're here so sit'cho asses down already DAMN!"

So, the moral of the story---albeit clear I believe----is that if you are ever in my neck of the woods, please come check a sista out…..just call befo’ you come

The 100's

O.K., I've seen this list quite a bit, and since I'm playing hooky today and fulfilling #26 on this list(which I actually wrote last week),I'm a wee bit lazy so I think I'll just post this and go back to sleep! *heehee*

100.I have come to grips with a lot of things that either are or are not in my life
99.I still think “what if I had done….” With respect to my younger years
98. I have no regerts though
97. Though if I could there are definitely some things that would have been different
96. I will never date another Scorpio again
95. Being with my ex, Dave (a scorpio),was a great learning experience
94. I vowed to never feel that dependent on a man for comfort EVER again
93.I love my alma mater....,GO MSU SPARTANS!!
92. But I did comtemplate going to grad school at that “other” Michigan school (the yellow & blue one).ick!
91. My father was scared to die and so am I.
90. But I refuse to go to the dr. for a checkup like my Mom wants me to
89. I love rainy days
88. Rainy days fuel my introspection.
87. Having a baby changed my life in EVERY way
86. I couldn’t imagine my life without him
85. I love DISCO
84. My best friend is a DJ who makes all my house/disco music
83. In this lifetime I was lucky enough to have found my soulmate
82. My spirit is restless with indifference in a lot of areas of my life
81. I want to start a new career.
80. I have NO idea what thatwill be
79. I am usually smiling
78. People say that I have a bubbly personality
77. I have a SEVERE case of road rage.
76. I love apple pie
75. I love to be in love
74. I have been to see a psycologist before
73. I stopped going,wonder if it helped?
72. My best friend keeps me grounded
71. I had a long term friend decide that she no longer wished to remain friends with me this year (due to her OWN b.s. issues)
70. I did care, but now I could give a shit less.
69. I am usually easy to get along with.
68. Being a mother is hard as hell sometimes
67. Being a mother is the best thing I’ve ever done…bar none.
66. My child is my reason and my purpose
65. seeing him smile warms my heart like nothing else in this world.
64.I love sunny days
63.I do NOT like to sweat.
62. I am a HORRIBLE procrastinator
61. I work MUCH better under pressure.
60 I used to be an “over-committer”
59. One of these days I’m going to lose 50 pounds
58. My best birthday was my 4th…I had raggedy ann EVERYTHING
57. I am not perfect, but I am perfectly fine with that
56. There are many flaws I’ve learned to live with! Ha!
55. True Love at any age is timeless and beautiful.
54. I want to have another baby
53. I hope the NEXT birth isn’t as horrible and long as this one was.
52. I worry about my Mom being so far away in Florida.
51. I no longer think of my Mom as being invincible….ever since I realized that she takes about 13 pills a day for various ailments
50. Mortality is real and life is finite….
49. I want to cut my hair
48. I want to grow my hair long again
47. I one day want to be a well-know photographer
45. I sometimes fear that my husband will never fully understand “me”
44. Arguing with him breaks my heart.
43. I love diamonds.
42. I got my first diamond in the form of my engagement ring.
41. I wish I could just leave this job and strike out into a new career and say “FUCK IT”, throwing all caution to the wind.
40. But I’m afraid to fail
39. I want to go to a new Caribbean island every year.
38. I need to organize a “girl’s” trip to ‘somewhere’
37. If I were to move to Atlanta I’d miss my friends
36. Though I was born & raised here, I’d soooo NOT miss this city.
35. I wish I had’ve been able to go to Studio 54 and Paradise Garage back in Disco’s hey-day
34. I hate when people ask me “Oh, so you like Gloria Gaynor, the Village People, Sister Sledge, etc.” when I say I like Disco…
33. I hardly like ANY run-of-the-mill Disco.
32. I like underground/deep Disco and House
31. I need to go to Club Shelter in NYC any damn time soon, cause I’m going through withdrawal!
30. Sometimes I just wanna go on a vacation by myself
29. I happiest on Saturday mornings reeeeally early in the a.m. when I am preparing for my weekend
28. I love to shop
27. I do more shopping for the baby and the house than anything else these days!
26. I am going to play hooky and take a “me day” sometime very soon
25. I wish I could’ve met my maternal grandfather and great-grandmother
24. One day I’m going to track my genealogy
23. the older I get, the more I give less than 2-fucks WHAT people think
22. The older I get the less patience I have for dumb shit
21. The older I get, the more I realize the world is MOSTLY full of people that do and say dumb shit.
20. My friends used to think I was a “playette” O.K., I was *hee hee*
19. I loved being single in my 20’s….. My best summer as an adult was 1993….me & Jen hung like wet rags.
18. I’m extremely sensitive and can get my feeling hurt*snapping my fingers* like that!
17. It is so clear to me that black people MUST have several streams of income and investments JUST to plan to have a decent retirement
16. I love Gerber Daisies…the pink or bright orange ones.
15. I have slept with a married man(who was and still is a good friend of mine) before.....a number of times, over several years
14. I didn’t feel bad about it, though I knew it was wrong, but I won’t do it again
13. I have come to accept that I am kinda cute (I used to never believe it when someone gave me a compliment)
12. I had a breast reduction 11 yrs. ago.
11. Some of my guy friends commented “noooo, not the twins, don’t do it!!!!” at the time
10. Pre-reduction, I ABSOLUTELY HATED the attention that I got because of them
9. I like the attention now!!
8. Food is good…the food I love is VERY good…Salmon & capers in a lemon & basil cream sauce with angel hair pasta….YUM!!!
7. I don’t want my mommy to die
6. I wasn’t as close to my father and when he died I wasn’t as “totally broken down/sad” as I thought I should’ve been
5. My male friends & I had some GREAT (platonic) trips out of town….definitely some of my best memories.
4. I love shoe shopping and have about 70-80 pair. Is that a lot?
3. I love Pancakes and Sunday morning breakfast
2. I need to rest more because I’m perpetually tired at the end of the day...EVERYDAY.
1. I need to get closer to God.

Blog addiction? & Nosey Mutha's

The husband just sent this to me and I am soooo feeling this cause this is the way I feel about my co-workers and sordid others.....

Some people are like Slinkies...
Not really good for anything,
But they still bring a smile to your face
When you push them down a flight of stairs .


Hot damn I swear that's the way I feel about some folks!

Am I addicted to blogging??? I think I am. I am a serious "work blogger". This is when i have the most time to do it and am most mentally alert. I find blogging such a relaxing and cathartic way to express all of the shit that gets backed up in my mind at one time or another. O.K, my husband says I'm "too addicted" ,but I say just like he has golf, I have blog. I blog therefore I am dammit! *hee hee*

But seriously, I am addicted ya'll. I mean, I work with a bunch of nosey, tattle-tell assholes and unfortunately my computer is turned in a FUCKED up position where the asshole behind can see if EVERYTIME he walks by or if my boss trots her ass over here, SHE can see it to. And they look at my computer screen (and my other black co-worker's screen) EVERY TIME they either pass BY my desk or stop to tell/give me something like there's a gahdamn Gremlin sitting there just begging them to look or like there is ANYTHING on MY computer that THEY need to see!!! DAMMIT, I hate nosey assholes. But I have found that that's how most white folks are. Nosey. But you wanna hear the kicker? THe muthafucka that sits behind me get's up from his desk like 10-15 times an HOUR!!! No FUCK.ING. LIE. And sometimes his ass goes to the bathroom comes back, goes to check the fax machine,comes back, goes up to the front,comes back, will get to the end of our row snap his fingers in an "aww shoot, I forgot something" way,and ....comes back. This muthafucka gets on my nerves SOOOOOO DAMN bad! I mean I wanna tell him to "sit his $5 ass down befo' I make change" ---- a la Nino Brown. But truth is, if me or my girl were to do this.... my boss would be questioning us BAD like we ran off to Jamaica or something!!! He get's such preferntial treatment (in small ways like this) and it's so bad that he's such the "Golden Boy" that take this situation for example..... if we were to be gone from our desks as much as he is, our boss would be looking under plants, in garbage cans, in the bathroom.... Oh wait. She's already DONE THAT SHIT! "Robyn are you in here?" I kid you not. And though it has not been often, the fact that it happened at all is an abomination! (you see why I gotta leave before "going postal" ain't got shit on me???) And all she wanted to tell me was that "Oh, I just wanted to tell you that we received a new worker's comp. booklet and it has all of the new names......". People. I kid.you. not. THIS BITCH INTERRUPTED MY PERSONAL PEE-TIME TO TELL ME ABOUT A FUCKING WORKER'S COMP. UPDATE !!!!! Ya'll don't feel me.

So, in relation to my blog, I have to be 007 and trigger finger at the same time when I'm doing my work-blog thang. I quickly switch the screen so that when nosey ass people come over, it LOOKS like I'm working. My ears are so attuned to anyone walking up to my desk that I actually "KNOW" how each person in my dept's walk sounds. (I was doing this before I was blogging though). Because there are some things that'cho ass, Ms. Boss-bitch, were not meant to see.

"Why don't you blog at home" you say? In three words, a 13-month old. When I get home it's all about the Zilla -----> and how could I deny this face. Then after he's fed, bathed and put to sleep I begin job #3 (because my husband usually works late, I do the previously detailed part solo most of the time). So then I try to find SOME-thing to cook or my husband will cook or bring something home from take-out. By this time...it's 9:30-10:00p.m. and I feel like I've been LITERALLY picking cotton ALL damn-day long. I ain't got NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO blogging energy. As a matter of fact, I ain't got no energy AT ALL. none. zip. zero.*calling out in to someone in the background* Somebody bring me some Echinacea, pleeease!!!! Soooooooo this brings us back to "why I blog at work".....it's damn near the only time (during the week) that I CAN do it!

But blogging is sublime for me...totally sublime, I guess if I can't relax and read a book, I can at least pencil in a lil bit o' time to blog, albeit at work, and relase my inner-self to the outer world!

Enjoy and keep reading!

Thusrday....aka Friday eve....

O.k. people...I am feeling a lil and lil . I am so ready to get outta here that I am tapping my foot...nervously. I don't tap my foot, but today I'm a tappin away...... maybe I can tap my way into Friday and on into the weekend. I need this weekend to come and come quick!

Work is just work. And I am ready to leave this job. No not just today, but forever. I think that this is why I wake up everyday and question whether I want to call in or not and try to come up with a plausible excuse that would enable me to stay at home guilt free. I usually don't come up with something I deem worthy to pitch to my boss or just don't wanna deal with her attitude, so I come in. Every morning, I go through the same cycle, rinse & repeat the next morning.I have become the "drone" worker. There is no excitement and no great desire to do better or even to be better in this current environment. Apathy about ones job is a terrible thing, no? I feel that this job is sucking the life outta me. That is not me. This is not how I function. Anyone that knows me, knows that I am way more ambitious than "this" place that I find myself resting.

I have got to get out of here! Moving on and changing is the best thing for me to do.

There HAS TO BE SOMETHING BETTER! Many people say that with my personality that I'd be great at PR or something of the like. I agree and have come to accept that in general I am usually well liked upon first encounters and I have a knack for being able to talk to almost anybody. You know the saying "everyone has something that they are naturally good at... you just need to find it"? Well, the aforementioned qualities are mine. But Robyn, you say, those are qualities, not actual "things" that you are good at. I say, "exactly". And though I might be "great" at PR, at this point in my life, I CANNOT monetarily afford to start a career path ovuh and be somebody's PR intern making $7.50 an hour or sum shit! I have a family and we gotta eat! So, I find myself in this vicious circle.....

I have yet to find how I can parlay my natural "people skills" into actual cash, dinero...you know CHEDDA that I can get paid a decent wage to do! A smile AIN'T gon get no dayum bills paid! And a good attitude AIN'T gon help ya if you have no idea what you want to do. So I guess today I actually feel more so than anything. I'm praying for clarity tomorrow.

My Favorite Movie Quote of All Time

Now, if you've seen Pulp Fiction, you know EXACTLY what I'm about to write. This is one of my favorite movies. And the following scene is my ALL time favorite scene. It's at the beginning where Jules and Vincent go to these college boys' house to retrieve some *thing* that the boys have in their possession that belongs to all of their collective bosses, Marcellus Wallace.

Jules: You read the Bible Bret?

Bret: Not regularly.

Jules: There's a passage I got memorized.

Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. .45 here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin, Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.

And like Jules...I am trying real hard to be the shepherd.....niggas wanna test you, but I'm tryin....I'm tryin' LOL!

Stoopid Ass Conversation

I just had the stoooopidest (yeah, it's affected me too) converstaion with someone on the phone (and yes, he was a nigro). This person called to ask me a question regarding the company's tuition reimbursement program, since I administrate the program. Cool. So, he tells me he's calling for someone else who has a question. Here's the conversation.

Me: Oh, O.K., no problem. What kind of question did you have?
Him: uh, the girl I'm calling for had a question about how to fill out the request form
Me: O.K., what's the question?
Him: She was confused as to how to fill out some of the boxes that need to be filled out
Me: Wellll..... which boxes was she confused about?
Him: I'm not sure, she asked me and I said 'who better to call than you'
Me: O.K., but I need to know what she's confused about so I'll know what to tell her *thinking,DUH!!!*
Him: O.K., well....I'mma transfer you to her


WHY IN THE FUCK AM I TALKING TO YOU? Can you tell me??? You don't know WHAT THE FUCK the reason was for the call!!! GET'CHO STOOOOPID ASS OFF MY DAMN PHONE.


Him: (talking to himself in the background)O.K. I gotta figure out how to work this transfer thang.
Me: *thinking* do do do daa daa daa
Him: *after trying to transfer me 4 fucking times unsuccessfully* O.K. here we go.
Phone hangs up and goes dead.

I am through. That was my cue to go the fuck home. He told me his name and though I've never talked to him and don't have a phone number to call back, I could look him up on the online directory, but FUCK IT! His dumb-ass doesn't deserve a call back and whoever needs the information should have the presence of mind to CALL ME THEMSELVES or else they don't fuckin' need the damn info.!

I'm out.

*uh oh.....the phone riging as we speak......... lata ya'll*

Bus Etiquette

For all that know me, you know that I work in a huge facility that has 4 separate buildings that house THOUSANDS of employees. The parking for those employees is broken up amongst several parking garages. The parking garage that I park at is approximately a 10 minute walk away. Hence, there is a shuttle service that picks up and drops off employees to and from the main building. Door to door service! Gotta love it.

For the most part, this is a wonderful service (O.K. here’s where I get picky and bitchy..) BUT there are some exceptions to every rule. The buses are commuter buses, you know the nice white ones that seat between 20-40 people depending on the bus and look like the buses that take you to/from a hotel from the airport or something or the like. Most buses even have music playing of the popular black radio stations (because it's mostly "us" that's driving, that's what radio station is playing). Because the bus route is a quick 2 minutes , buses pull up quite frequently. During my 4 years here, I have noticed some irritating shit that people do that in my opinion SHOULD go int he "what the fuck NOT TO DO section of the “Code of the Parking Structure Bus Rider”.

I shall detail these things below for those who have OBVIOUSLY neva been schooled on appropriate conduct in small spaces:

1.Do NOT blow your fucking nose if someone (especially if MY BLACK ASS) is sitting next to you. Not even if it’s a GODAMN snot-emergency! This fucking morning this funky ass white muthafucka with a cheap suit and some “2 funky brotha’s” cologne proceeds to blow his gahdamn nose while I was sitting RIGHT next to him!! BITCH! I was mad as hell. O.K. first of allI was mad because these seats are NOT made for anyone over a size 8 (women) or over a size 36 waist size (men’s). And even then your ass might feel like a salty sardine! Now I know that there’s a whole yunch oh nasty-ass-mothafuckas in the world, but when did it become O.K. to blow yo’ snot particles (imagine me feeling like I'm sitting in that movie theatre in the movie "Outbreak".....you get the picture) albeit into a rag, that he put BACK INTO HIS bag *disgusted face*, when we’re sitting so close to one another I can hear your gahdamn heart beat?????? Stankin-ass-baturds!!!! And seeing as though , as previously stated, the bus ride is 2 fucking minutes. YOUR ass can wait unless your nose is running and then you can simply wipe, NOT BLOW your gahdamn nose!!!! UUUUUGHHHHHH!!! This is why I am convinced that white people in general do NOT live by the code of cleanliness that black folk do. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are some McNasty’s out there in the black community…..but far less than whites. (and they equate US with being dirty...hhhmph! *tooting my nose in the air, lips curled up*).


2.DO not talk on a cell phone in closed spaces or talk quietly!!! Don’t most people know it is rude as fuck to talk LOUDLY on the cell phone when you are in closed spaces (e.g.a bus, an elevator….)?? If you are sitting next to me and we are on a bus, please cut that damn convo. short and tell the muthafucka you’ll call them RIGHT back if you can’t manage to cut that mouth volume down several notches! Just say no and shut the FUCK UP!

3.Do NOT start singing the fucking music that is playing on the bus’ radio station! Now, I told you that the buses have music playing on most of them. You ain’t Rueben, Clay or Fantasia bitch and this AIN’T a Karaoke contest! Now, most of the time the 2 minute bus trip is uneventful and QUIET. Other than people talking in quieter tones to a co-worker, etc. it’s usually quiet even if there is music playing WHYYYYY was I on the bus yesterday morning and this mothafucka was FIRST of all talking loud as HELL on his cell phone (reference rule #2 above) and then his white, janky-looking ass started singing along with Michael Jackson “Don’t stop til you get enough….keep on with the force…..don’t….don’t stop til you get enough” (repeat) I was sitting RIGHT behind this muthafucka and his attempt at being cool was turning out horribly and I sooooooo was tempted to tap or better yet SLAP the shit out of him and let him know that he AIN’T cool and he WASN’T gruuuuvin’ and that we (the masses on the bus) did NOT enjoy his lil stankin-ass impromptu concert was worthy of getting thrown the-fuck-out of ANY Karaoke bar. Sheesh! You’d think he’d have gotten the message after people started to turn and look at his ass! *now remember this is a 2 minute bus ride, 3 at the MOST, so I was relieved of my aural hostage takeover very soon !
Addendum: do you know that when this mu’fucka got off the bus he was all of 4’ 5”???? I shook my head as I looked down at him and thought “This explains EVERYTHING.....*sigh*”

4. If your ass is too WIDE to get down the AISLE of the bus or if the bus tilts to one side when you try to get on it, this means you need to WALK to the building. There is no reason that I and the person next to me should be smashed into the window with our lips pressed against the glass simply because yo’ big ass is “comin thru”!!! And if your ass IS that big, chances are you NEED to walk. Take advantage of this opportunity to commit to this form of exercise. Now, I ain’t no little, petite woman either, but Sumo/Samoan I ain’t. Therefore, I can speak to these issues!

5. Please do NOT sit directly next to me if there are say.... 92 other seats on the damn bus! Why do people do this?? Is it to feel safe? Is it to feel like they are really a part of the human experience? Is it to smell my sexy body? NOOOOOOOOOO!! I am convinced that people who do dumb-ass shit like this do it to simply irritate the FUCK outta me!!! Cause please believe that these 2 seats are really the equivalent of 1 1/2 seats! GET AWAY FROM ME!

6.And if you DO sit next to me and I DO NOT know you (even if I do, unless we're cool like dat) PLEASE , I repeat PLEASE DON'T start inane-ass, languid conversations with me O.K., sometimes idle chatter is O.K., but really & truly my time in teh morning on the bus (yes that 2-3 minutes and the 5 minute walk through the building to my desk)is MY TIME to "get my mind right". And the evening time is my time to get the FUCK outta Dodge and I am like Mario Andretti on a nigga! At 5:00pm (because my bitch ass boss will NOT let a slave nigga leave until EXACTLY 5:00pm) I am flying out the doh'! Eat my dust biatches! So I don't want to talk then either. I am focused on two things: getting my ass to my vehicle and high-tailing it onto the freeway as fast as I can, because literally, minutes lost in pre-freeway time can = traffic jam city! And as I am impatient, that does not bode well with me. The other focus is getting the Zilla from daycare. So, I do not appreciate you droning on and on and on and on and .....you get it. It fucks up my mental! And in addition, it's rude and as IRRITATING as a fly that you just can't kill that continues to light on everything in your house! I don't care about the "nice day" or "my, isn't it hot" or any other stupid "filler-chat" you idle mind comes up with. Save it. One day this woman was going on and on and I was just giving her the nicey-nice smiles and saying "oh, o.k." and " mmm hmmm" and "mmmmm" trying to be nice. But it wasn't until I shot her a "shut the fuck up " look that she finally did just that. See....folks force me to be evil.. I swear they do.

7. If you smell like hot garbage and cabbage, GET’CHO ass OFF and STAY off the Godamn bus until you take a shower! Being in a confined space where it’s hot, because SOME of these buses have NO A/C, is just ridiculously oppressive and unfair to others when you add funk + heat it = straight con-funktion. I work in a building where most of the employees that work here are employed by one of the Big 3. Hence, there are a fair number of people employed that are of either East Indian, Pakistani, Arabic descent since they employ these fuckers like they’re God’s gift to America . People, you know where I’m going with this. Why can stankin, I mean STANKKKKKKKKIN muthafucka’s be allowed to come to work and by the sheer mist of funk that is emanating from ONE person’s body, stink up the WHOLE floor! That’s a shame!! There is no reason that HYGEINE be one of those “cultural preferences” that is accepted in the U.S. !!! I swear, if there was someone on my side of this floor that smelled like that, there’d HAVE to be something done about it!!! It’s no less fair to have a person be told to “tone down” their perfume if it is causing other employee’s to have headaches, nausea, etc. than it would be to ask someone who is STANKIN-ALL-TO-BE-DAMNED to wash their ass. I just don’t get it. WASH.YO.ASS. BITCHES. Them oniony ass nigga’s betta be glad that I don’t have to smell them.

O.K., I’m done....

Stink you very much.