We Ready!! We Ready!!

This was the unofficial anthem of North Miami, c/0 2000...and I just dated myself...lol. *sigh*

I remember right before (or was it after...god I'm getting old) they announced that we were to graduate/had graduated, the student body all 600+ of us started chanting, "We Ready!" But in actually, as we chanted this aloud some many years ago, how many of us really were 'ready'?

This past weekend, North Miami c/o 2000 celebrated our 10 year reunion since we embarked upon the world, free from the rigors of mandated schooling. What would we do with ourselves? What would we make of our lives? Would we really and truly be ready to face each other in a decade to find out? My former classmates and I did just that, convening to swap stories, compare notes, see who looked great, who did not, and gossip about who's done what, who hasn't done shit, and all the rest of it in between.

Honestly, I didn't know if I was really ready myself. I was a little nervous apprehensive scared indifferent being that the few of the friends I've kept in touch with weren't going to be there. And since I wasn't exactly Ferris Beuller, I wondered who would I be excited to see, or who would even be excited to see me.

I mean really, who would be excited to see me if all you remembered about me were these eyebrows:



Lawd, Heavenly Jesus, grab a tweezer and hear my prayer!! For this child knows not what she does! :(

And I really didn't. Poor me, circa 2000. SMH. Not. a. frickin. clue.

Oh, the wisdom of retrospect. So ten years later, I knew I GOTS to do better. And I did. I went got those eyebrows waxed, found a baaaad dress, with cute shoes, and had my face beat, HON-NEY!

Not too shabby, eh?? I knew that when I walked up in there, I'd rather it be "Damn what happened to her. :)" not, "Damn, what happend to her. :( "

Well, for that matter, I knew I'd gained small ground in popularity, only in that they had superlative nominations of which I was nominated for not one, but TWO categories. One being "High School Chemistry" which I shared with my boo, (i.e.: the cutest couple award--and we're pretty frickin' cute if you as me *wink*), and the other being "Facebook Fiend," self explanatory, oh the shame. With that being said, I lost both times. The first category, the chance of winning was...zilch. Nominated along with us, (or the category we were thrown into so that they'd have someone to run against), were Yrvens & Rita, who won cutest couple...in high school. Yeah, they were still as popular then as they are now, and well, if you've been together that long, they should've won. And the fb fiend...I accept that defeat with pride, though the monetary award would have been nice.

Anyhoo, the biggest surprise of the night was that there were no surprises. After watching such movies as "Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion", and "Zack & Miri Make a Porno" I guess I had some ill-conceived idea of what was supposed to transpire: hot shot jock/head cheerleader marry & look like trash, geek turns into Brad Pitt with Bill Gates money, class clown still clowns, wallflower turns into a knockout beauty, etc. But there was none of the sort really.

It was held at the Signature Grand in Davie, a nice, swanky-ish location, everything looked nice, and those that attended did not disappoint. I found myself being much more outgoing than I ever was in high school, using those latent social-butterfly skills that hadn't matured until just a few years ago. It was good to see that everyone looked great (or at least made the effort), and seemed to have something going for themselves (though, no one really asked much more than a generic, "How're you doing?"). Besides in this facebook age, it doesn't take much digging to find out what's REALLY going on with most of us anyway. Frankly, the "how're you doing" question is redundant as, most of us already know the answer: This one had a baby. This one's getting married. The other one is standing in line at Walmart frustrated because the lady in front is using pennies to pay. Mood: heated.

No secrets. No mystery. But still worth attending, and enjoying. I would've stayed longer at the after party if I didn't have to go home to finish writing a paper. (Ugh, a procrastinators work is never started done. :-/ ) But overall not bad, no regrets....except maybe it's not seeing my high school crush (boyfriend be damned!! lol...j/k love!) Chris Mercado. Oh, so adorable & dreamy.

East, East Ninety-nine, ninety, ninety, nine, nine, nine, nine...

So the other day, I'm tired of basketball news so I mosey on over to my favorite blog about the University of Miami to get the low down on some football news. I miss football. :( And low and behold: more basketball. Nonetheless, I peruse through the posts, and there's one about how by Lebron coming to Miami, and Seantrel Henderson choosing to spurn the (<--small caps) Ohio State Buckeyes for the Canes, it kinda somewhat avenges "the theft in the desert" referring to the pass interference bullshit call that robbed Miami of it's 6th overall and 1st back to back National Title Championship. Then in the comments section I begin reading through the back and forth from the Miami fans, and the few Ohio St. trolls, and came across this gem from an anonymous poster:

What are you going to do in Cleveland? Whack off over Ohio State's 2002 stolen
title, cry over the Indians' lost World Series title in 1997, drown your sorrows
over "The Drive", listen to that first Bone Thugs & Harmony CD or avoid
getting shot?

Bone Thugs & Harmony??!!?? ROTFLMAO!! I compeletely forgot that those cats were from Cleveland, and thought that that retort was the funniest shit since...I don't even know.

Anyhoo, I got to thinking about how much I really liked BTNH, and I used to JAM that first tape, Creepin' on ah Come Up. Yeah, I said it: TAPE. For the young'uns, it looks a little something like this:



Whatchuknowboutit??? Nathan!

So I gets to youtubing, and immediately look up Thuggish Ruggish Bone, their first LP that I used to bump so hard, and naturally I start singing/rapping along. And then I wonder, "Hey what the hell happened to Natasha?" Natasha, could've been fiyah! Another Mary J.? Maybe?? Maybe not.

What's that? You mean to tell me you don't know who Natasha is?? Come'on man, Natasha. Oh my bad, I wikipediaed it and apparently her name is Shatasha. Does that help? You know her. She was last seen sporting a mushroom bob with fan bangs, bamboo earrings, red lipstick & black BTNH T-shirt, and let's not forget her square hater-blockers, all while swaying gangsta-like to the beat and singing trills. Wait, you, mean to tell me you still don't know who Shatasha is??

Well, then lemme sing it for you:

"You got Laaaaaaaaaay-zie, and Kraaaaaaaaa-aayzie . Biiiiiiiiiizzy's in the hoooouse. Wiiiiiish is in the hoooo-ooouse! And Flesh. And (pause) Shatashaaaa-aaah. Cleveland's definitatelaaaaaaa-aay, in the house."

Ahem, that Shatasha...lol! Where the hell is she now? VH1, I think you should do an investigation.

Quitting the Quibid: A Junkie's Confession of a Week Long Gambling Addiction

There goes the perfect title for a book. However, I hardly have much to write on the subject.

...or maybe I do. I never know when I start a blog/story/poem/etc. how long it'll run. I always hope that it'll be short & sweet, but I'm verbose, I talk a lot...sue me! Anyhoo, this is a tale of my addiction, and my ability to quit while I was ahead.

Well, Quibids entered my world inauspicious enough. One night while my mother was watching the news at a level only reserved for people at a Black Sabbath concert, being held on an airport runway as 1,000 fighter jets fly-overhead, with fireworks cackling in the background. While I took a moment to wipe the blood from my bleeding ears, I picked up the sound of a segment of a story about buying iPads for mere pennies. Pennies?!? I quickly thought, "bullshit," and forgot it from my short term memory. But oh, how you never know how somethings never really go in one ear and out the other. Sometimes, random things get lodged amongst the cobwebs and ear wax en route to the other side and decide to stay there deep in the crevices of your brain until...

You're cruising in your car, and out of the radio comes a song. The melody is vague, and you're not sure you've heard it before, but as soon as the singer starts singing, you realize you know all the lyrics, yet...you still don't know what song it is. So you wonder, "How the hell do I know this song? "

Or you're watching Jeopardy or some other trivia show, and they say, "a kind of cheese made from ewe's milk." And you say out loud, "What is pecorino?" And then you're like, "What the fuck is a pecorino? Have I ever eaten pecorino? Where would I get pecorino? Why would I know that answer? Where did I get that from?" But you knew it. You learned it somehow. Well, when I chanced upon the Quibids again. I knew it wasn't the first time I had heard about it, but thanks to the memory of my mother's loud tv, I remembered where I knew it from.

So a few days later, I was reading some random article, and again I saw a link on the side of the screen regarding a person who won an iPad for a few bucks, and I'm like "how the hell?" So instead of clicking on the link (not trying to get any viruses), I googled this "quibids" thing, and went to the website.

I sat there looking at my screen for a good 15 minutes trying to figure out what the hell the "blips" were, and the clocks, and why the hell everything kept moving around. This surely wasn't ebay. But since I'm not a dumb girl, I was able to get the gist of this thing. I figured out that you have to purchase "bids" to bid on the items you want to win, however, just because you're the clock is winding down, doesn't guarantee that you'll be the last bidder, and the eventual winner, unlike ebay. Here, if you're the last bidder, but someone manages to get their bid in at the very last second, it resets the clock 15 seconds, so you get to bid again (hence the blips were the changing of hands, if you will, from one bidder to the next). Here is where they get you. But I wasn't about to get got, so just kept watching...on the first day.

The second day, watched some more before I dedcided to throw my hat into the ring to start bidding. I erroneously assumed that you'd only have to pay for the amount of bids you'd want to use which ran about 60 cents per bid, so I figured I'd buy about 5 bucks worth, and play with that. Ehhhhnt...wrong! You have to buy bid "packages," which weren't cheap. :( But since I have a sucker's spirit, much like that deaf mama of mine (love her, really I do) I "invested" in the cheapest package. I dropped $27 on it, and was rewarded with a whopping 45 bids. I knew from watching that 45 bids could go pretty quickly so I decided that instead of trying to win an "item" off the bat, I would try to win some more bids which come in packages of 15, 25, 50, 100, 150, and 250.

The first one I won was a package of 25 bids. Yesssss! I could feel the adrenaline. I won them for a mere sum of one dollar, but ended up shelling out another $2 for a "processing fee." Dammit! But that brought my bid tally to 68, since I shelled out 2 of my original bids to win the 25. I knew I wanted more, I could feel the pangs of success roll through me, and i wanted more bids...so I set out stalking an even bigger prize: 100 bids!! I placed four bids to get them, but eventually I won. I paid $1.21 for these, but the damn $2 processing fee, but I felt vidicated, armed with enough bids to warrant a real purchase. But what would I get?

I saw myself lusting after electronics that I previously had no real or immediate desire to own: iPads, camcorders, flat screen tvs, external hardrives, margarita mixers! Literally, like a kid in a candy store, or a woman in a shoe store, or a man in an electronic store, that serious!!

So I set after a small-ish prize, a waterpik. You know, something only a geek like me would really want. It's not like I needed a waterpik, I've done just fine with floss alone, and my teeth are still pretty pearly see:



Nonetheless, that day I VOWED, I was getting this waterpik because, well, I wanted it. It only took me four bids, and that thing was MINE!!! (Oh, and check out the price I won it for...$0.38!) Whoo-hoo! See that, kimmysan...well that be me! :)



And with that, everyday I'd go back trying to win something. However, the problem was that I'm kind of a frugal bidder. If I don't win in 2 or 3 tries, I give up. I once went to Vegas, spent lost 15 bucks and didn't gamble again because I kept losing.

Here on quibids I was winning!! I didn't win anything the next day, though I did try hard for this 19" flat screen (I wasted 12 bids on it!), but the following day I won...



...and I ain't even got a Wii. I'm a hot mess, yes I know, but how could I pass that up...for $0.34, did you see that?? Yeah, suckaaaaah! I wasted a few more bids here and there, and didn't know what I wanted next, but then I realized all the "here and there's" left me with only about 40 bids left. So I was going to save it to reel in a BIG prize, like an iPad, a laptop or a camera, which can take forever to win, so I had to be careful not to bid too early. BUT, I forgot that I promised the boyfriend that I'd win him an iron, and I thought, well okay, "How hard can it be to win an iron, if I'd already won a Wii??"

Well, let's say, that was my last forray into the bidding wars. :( His iron took me 28 bids to win! And the iron cost me more than my Wii & Waterpik...combined, yet was worth less. Dammit...that's what happens when you love people. Gosh!! So with the baby amount of bids left to my name, I tried to win more bids to avoid paying again for a decent stash, but I soon lost those too. So with a sad face, and dejected heart I decided to hang up my hat.

I quit cold turkey, not even going to the site watch the winnings. It made me envious. I wanted more bids, and I knew had the itch of a junkie. I knew I could win so much more, and the click of the mouse was so tempting, taunting. But I see how people could throw away their money with no problem, but I knew I had to stop. And so just like that I quit the quibids. It's sad really. I miss it. I would go back, but only if someone would gimme $27 more dollars for another start up.

Ummm, can you spare a buck?? Please. :(

You can't stop a blazing wildfire...but you can try

...and so he came.

The morning after "The Decision," for breakfast I had a lot to soak in, and eat up. Care to hear the menu? Well, I started off stuffing my foot in my mouth, then once I was able to dislodge that, I had eaten my words, some crow, and topped it all of with a big slice of humble pie. Tasty, huh?

Honesty, it felt like I was dreaming because did that fool, Lebron, REALLY (really, really) say that he was coming to Miami...err correction...South Beach? To the Tray-O-Five? To...to...the Heat?? The Heat?? My Miami Heat?? I really had to take a moment to let it sink in, hence the reason I'm writing this post some 6 days later. And speaking of six....



...Pat Riley is really a Svengali if I ever seen one. That's pimp there...THAT. PIMP. THERE!! How in the HAIL did he pull that off?? Dan LeBatard, cackles the same thing, and well...I have to agree.






Yeah, still pretty much in disbelief, fostered by a bit of giddiness at the prospect of this potential MONSTROSITY of talent that is on our team. As you may recall, is a complete 180 from my last post where I REALLY (really, really) didn't want Lebron coming here. However, now that he's here, as I predicted, I find myself defending the guy, while everyone else hopped on the bandwagon that I just stepped off (nobody saw this before??). Nonetheless, here are my thoughts on the si'chi-ashun...

1) Whoooooo-Fucking-Hooooo!!! Yeeeeeeeeeah-Baby!! Alright now!! (ahem) just had to get that out of the way.

2) LeBron, you wrong. You know that, right? Hell everyone's telling you, "You wrong." I know had Dwyane did that shit to the Heat, I'd be, needless to say, HEATED! So Cavs fans I feel you. You're upset, as you should be. And for that to happen on national TV. It's worse than getting "Fi-yad" by Donald Trump on national TV, except keep the TV crew, replace Donald Trump with your real boss, and that fake Apprentice job with your real job, and then have your significant other simultaneously text you pictures of themselves piping down their new shone saying, "it's over," followed by a letter from your vet saying your dog has canine cancer. Sad :( I'm sure it felt like that, but worse. Just ask this guy.


3) There's a whole lotta sour grapes being bottled and sold as Hatorade these days, and people are drinking it up. It's funny how, if these three had assembled themselves on another squad, they'd have been hailed as the best thing since the Comfort Wipe. New York, Cleveland, Chicago, hell even L.A. would talk about how great they were if they managed to land this Big 3, more shit talking would ensue, and there would be few whispers, if any, about ego or chemistry problems. But since they didn't land on any of those teams, everyone, even fans of other teams have all of a sudden become "purists" who don't like to see the co-mingling of Franchise players on the same team. "Thug it out on your own team!" They cry. "You're buying a championship," they sob. "It's not fair," they whine. Someone should have told that to Boston a few years ago, huh? Yet, it seems no one had a problem with that, right??

Boston wasn't buying championships back then, or were they? Franchise players *cough-KG-cough* didn't stick with their teams like Jordan stuck with the Bulls, did they? It was a smart move all around, wasn't it (especially when there were championships to be won)? The difference here is that the T-Wolves, Celtics & Sonics were all lowly teams with nice (older) pieces, and the Celtics chanced out in that lucky lottery to win their Big 3. In this case, you have Cav coming off the league's best record, the Heat fearing pretty well, and the Raptors one game shy of a .500 record--not exactly NBA bottom feeders--with extraordinary pieces, guys in their prime. So when the Heat wins this lotto, everyone feels like the dealer allowed the Heat to get all the wild cards in a game of Uno, and everyone else is stuck with just a bunch of green cards, so now they want to yell, "Cheat!"


However, there was no cheating. Each man was a free-agent, and even though Riley may have been the master shuffler for this deck of cards, he couldn't force any of them, DWade included, to sign with the Heat unless he was holding a gun to their heads. (And as far as I know, no criminal charges have been brought forth.)

4) Ego. Well, I knew it though everyone else seemed to ignore it. Fact: Lebron James has an ego. Yet, NOW everyone wants to point that out, but no one noticed it when went around calling himself The King, The Chosen 1, or referring to himself in the third person. No one noticed when he punked that ball boy from Chicago. And few took offense when he stormed off the court and refused to congratulate the Magic after they got beat en route to the Finals last year. Then lest we forget his quitting in Game 5 vs. Boston; didn't bother Dan Gilbert, until last Thursday.

So now, the aforementioned team owner is predicting that LBJ's ego will follow him to Miami, and bring a plague upon our house...or Wade's house. Sure, that could be a problem, but that's where the ego stops. Wade and Ego don't exactly belong in the same sentence. Allow me a moment to tell you a little story:

Once upon a time, a little guard that could named, Dwyane actually shared his
team with one of the game's biggest prima donnas: The Big Diesel a.k.a The Big
Aristotle c.b.c The Big Baryshnikov b.k.a. The Shaqtus. Those two virtual
strangers co-existed just fine, hand in hand, with the elder statesman
oftentimes deferring to the younger, while still being able to teach him a
thing or two. The twosome went on to win an NBA championship,
with the younger grasshopper winning Finals MVP, essentially dethroning his
elder from a spot that he knew all too well. They laughed, they
cried, and they lived happily ever after, at least until the ego of
the elder showed his face again and milked his "injury" to force a trade, but
the two remain friends until this day. The end.

But Dwyane...no ego. Chris, ditto. (As far as I know) They're already friends who have played before on this little, itty-bitty competition called the Olympics, and even managed to win a Cracker Jack prized called a gold medal. This shouldn't be a problem, as it wasn't a problem with the other Big Three. Again, all this huffing and puffing, and evil wishing...it boils down to...dun-dun-dun: hate.

5) Lastly--(because this blog is getting all extra long, and I know very few of y'all actually read my mess)--everybody's scared, even Laker fans who bark extra loud. Don't believe me? Check out how they felt when Derek Fisher threatened to abandon them to come to the Heat. Yeah, their voice quivered, their lips shivered, and they were scuuuuuuuured. Everybody else though, knows that as soon as this team gels, which hopefully won't take long, the Heat will be ON, and will be perennial contenders...every year...for the next few years. Believe that, and doubt it if you want to. If y'all wanna quit watching b-ball, I'd like to see y'all try. Few people quit when Jordan was housing teams, back to back to back. I too writhed in agony seeing my Heat fall to them (or the Knicks...ugh!) But I still watched and wallowed, and can say I was privy to watch that egomaniac Jordan display some of he best balling ever. Yeah, I hated that guy too (more than LeBron), but I can't hate on the fact that he was great. And so, y'all can't either or deny that the Combo 6-3-1 will be (are) great. You'll watch, I'll watch. Some will enjoy, and I'm sure many more will hate the Heat for years to come, and rejoice their failures (much like I do the Lakers), but I'm ready for the ride.

Are you?

STAAAAAAY AWAAAAAAAAAY!!!

Okay, truth be told I feel like an idiot on the edge of the beach telling the tide not to roll in. But guess what....that tide is a-coming. And it may be good for the beach, or it may be bad for the beach, but who's to say until that tide arrives just what kind of power, or damage it may do.

And what is this tide of which I speak, you ask? The tide...or tidal wave of arrogance heading to South Beach, according to every news report under the sun:

HIM!



At this point it seems inevitable, but "they" (the "they" that I wish would shut the hell up) say that His Queenliness will dawn upon us, and so too will come forth a great dynasty. Now, I'm all for dynasties, and trust me I can turn into a rabid annoying fan (a la Lakers-fans, Celtics-fans, Yankee-fans, 'Canes-fans). In fact, I'm a member of that last group--and, you don't want to see me come August, if you haven't seen my madness already--however, I didn't want to share that dynasty with LeBron.

Yeah, yeah, he's kinda likeable in interviews, and he's a great player, but honestly he reminds me of how I felt when The Big Daddy was coming: hate to love him, love to hate him. And though I vowed I never like him, I too fell under the bewitching charisma of His Shaqness. I fear the same may happen with James.

I just really hated the fact that for as much hype as he got, my boy Wade could never get the same respect, even when he constantly proved to be as good or better than LeBron. Dwyane wins a championship in his 3rd year (damn near got us there his sophomore year), and people say he's just "a'ight." James, wins nothing, but he's still "The King." Wade is clutch. Bron-Bron, just says buh-bye, when he's needed most. After injury and surgery, Flash had to prove himself to everyone again, by been the best sixth man in the Redeem Team's Olympic efforts, by scoring off the bench, and effectively helping them win gold. LeBron can tank his MVP run to the championships 3 times in seven years and all is forgiven, right??

Look, in my little NBA mini-world view, Dwyane is my Larry Bird to James' Magic Johnson. They're supposed to be friendly rivals. I'm supposed to root against him. Hope he fails, and that my team triumphs. I had hoped that Wade & Bosh would form their own little Jordan/Pippen with a decent company surrounding them, and house shit from here on out. But it seems like they had their own agenda, and love for trios instead of duos, and 3 Muskateers (or Basketeers?) it seems they will be.

*sigh*

But who knows? I mean, inevitably it'll be all over once this circus comes to town 9:00 EST, and like clowns, most of us will be there to watch The Ringmaster, turn himself into a hero or he'll be made into a heel. My heart hopes he stays in Cleveland, but my gut's telling me...he may be already here.

BIG Sigh, and add in a couple of Whoooooooo-SAHs!!

Wade is Back!! And he's bringing Bosh with him. So that means our pieces are falling into place, and all should be well in Wade-County.



I knew he couldn't leave us, but he did give me a scare there. I really was thinking that, "I know this Judas can't leave us to go to Chicago after all that crap he spouted about loyalty!" Yes, I called Wade a Judas. (Sorry boo!) But really, I just couldn't fathom Dwyane leaving the Heat, and wearing another jersey...a Knicks jersey or a Bulls jersey, ugh!! :( But I figured, he's also a grown man, and I'm sure there's a chunk of his heart that's still a Chicago fan having grown up there and all. (And I can understand that, because as much as I complain about wanting to move away from Miami, you're not gonna stop me from being a 'Canes fan, Heat fan or Dol-fan!) So if he left, I'd hate it, but I'd reluctantly understand it. However, I'll tell you this, it would've been a loooooooooooooong and cold winter, this NBA season, and I would NOT have been able to, ♫ Feel the Heat down in my soul. ♫

But nonetheless, he's OUR guy and he's STAYING, and the sun will be shining and hot like always in Miami!!

*pause for my happy dance*

He is the Heat, as much as Zo, as much as Timmy Hardaway, as much as Riley (even though he also used to be their guy, and their guy...ugh!) And now he'll get some help from Bosh, who scores, and provides nice defense.

The trioika that everyone is waiting on, will still have to pause until Queen Lebron decides to make up his fickle mind. However, I'm not holding my breath. Tomorrow, he will hold an official royal court over at ESPN - primetime no less, and all the jesters will be out in droves to turn cartwheels, and dance a jig, when he proclaims that he's.........................staying in Cleveland.

**cue crickets**

Afterall, he should. He's their guy. He owes them, if only for this display of desperation. So if he left, he'd be a douche. All the drama will be for nothing, but I'm not complaining. I got who I wanted, Wade and Bosh, and everything is as it should be. We have our King & Queen (no offense gentlemen) on our chessboard, now Riley will make moves to acquire our rooks, knights, bishops and pawns, and checkmate suckas!!!

Championships here we come! :)