Temptation is a bitch...

...but success kicks her ass!!

So despite my horrible, horrible, horrible family (minus my bro-in-law the only cheering me on) tempting me with

carne asada


spagetti,


pork chops,



wing stop with french fries (!!!),


pico,
(sorry no picture, but true Nicaraguans know what the hell I'm talking about!)

chocolate pudding,


and much, much more....


....I managed to stay STRONG during my 10-day attempt at the Master Cleanse (a.k.a.: The Beyonce' Dreamgirls Diet).

This makes me hate her more...damn you Beyonce and your perfect body!!!!

So I got back from Japan, and slowly but surely I saw my waistline, coming right on back, (the coke-bottle figure was starting to look a little like the Kool-Aid Man) and since I didn't have the rodeo-pro to stave off the weight, I knew something drastic had to be done before I got back to being a size I was unhappy with.

Thus after much inner-wrangling, I decided to do the Master Cleanse for 10-days. I know you're not supposed to do it to lose weight and it's all about the inner cleansing, yadi-yada...but after I heard/read that Beyonce did it for like 15 days and lost 22 lbs, I was like: "I'm on it!"

So here's a brief run down on my trial run.

(SEE HERE for the recipe, and method behind the madness).

Starting weight: (not sure, because like an asshole, I forgot to weigh in....however, I had weighed myself a few weeks earlier and at that point I was, **breathe in-breathe out**) 173 lbs.

Day One:
Horrible beginning. I woke up drank down the salt water flush, but instead of drinking 1 quart of water with 2 teaspoons of salt, I mixed in THREE TABLESPOONS. (Please never make this mistake.) After gagging this nastiness down, I decided it was far too early to be up--as I'm sooo not a morning person--and went back to bed. So, I tried to sleep, but my belly kept doing flips since this thing is supposed to make ya, ummm...go. But I couldn't, and it felt more like it wanted to come back up the way it went down, which it did unpleasantly when I brushed my teeth. NOT FUN!

Anyhoo, after that I felt better, proceeded to make my "lemonade" (of freshly squeezed lemons, grade B organic maple syrup, cayenne pepper & water) and drank my breakfast. It was tasty and pleasant enough and I enjoyed it. However, what I began to notice was that, I never before noticed how much I think about food. I was like, "ooh lunch/dinner/snack" but then realized, "nope, just lemonade." Very much a psychological brain fuck. NOT FUN!

I made it well through the day, until my oh, so thoughtful mom put on the damn Food Network (good way to tease a starving person), until I couldn't take it any longer, and ended up going to bed early @ 9:00. Did I mention: NOT FUN!

Day 2:
Attempted the salt water flush again, made it down fine (now that I properly followed directions), but it was still unpleasant to drink. I never got "hungry" per se, but I realized I missed chewing, yes just CHEWING on something. The pulp in the lemonade kinda helped, but not enough. And then I noticed that the last bit of the lemonade was the worst, because all the cayenne pepper sunk to the bottom, and it made the drink spicy and kinda yuck!

Days 3-7:
I kept it up, drinking my drank tirelessly, and resisting all the temptations and stupid jokes to make me "feel better" about my diet. It didn't help matters when my nose became this supersonic smelling machine. I once opened the microwave to make my nightly tea, and the bread fell out, and I was like, "Mmmm, bread!!!"

By day 5, the salt water was easy to drink, but then the lemonade started getting REALLY MONOTONOUS!! (Think Ben Stein's voice droning on and on forever!) I dreamt of eating real food, (even though I wasn't at ALL hungry)...and like I said, my family was sooooo unkind in my plight. But by day 7 I saw my waistline come back, and I figured I'd thug it out for one more day before I gave up, officially (especially since I was running out of maple syrup, and I just didn't want to have to buy more).

Day 8:
I soooooo didn't want to even touch the damn lemonade. Mentally, I'd already given up since I just wanted to eat already, and since I figured I'd reached my goal anyway. I drank some of it for breakfast, and filled up on water for the rest of the day, until dinner, where I made a new batch without as much cayenne pepper and a smidge more maple syrup! That was tolerable, and I looked forward to today when I could gracefully tap out of the ring!

Today:
So I woke up and weighed myself.....dun-dun-DUN! I was elated to see that I got down to 158 lbs.!!! And that's by not even making it to day 10. So approximately 15 lbs. in 8 days! I'll take that!! So now I just can't eff it up by driving to my nearest Taco Bell, like I really want to do....damn it. =(

So maybe I can really, REALLY--like for REAL-REAL, not for play-play--get to working on that New Years resolution #4. I lost the poundage, now I just gotta keep it off.

But like I said, I kicked temptation's ASS....so I deserve a cookie!

Instead though, I'll sign off with the eloquent words of the cookie connoisseur, Mr. Cookie Monster: C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me.

...a few of my favorite things...

You know so, every time I logged on there was that 25 Random Things thing making the viral rounds on facebook. I avoided it at first and then I gave in because the narcissist, that I keep tucked deep deep deep down inside, was like let's talk about YOU! So I did. Sue me!



But after I made my list of 25, I realized that there's soooo much more to me that's even more weird and quirky and strange, that for some damn reason just makes me happy to be me! So instead of adding a few more to that list which called for only 25 things (not a list 30 or more, like some other fb friends of mine did who don't follow the rules) I fiugred, let's just take it to the blog; that way, I don't seem so SUPER-narcissistic and people who don't care to read won't have to (isn't that sweetly, considerate of me??). *wink*



So without further ado:



1. I HATE when people don't keep the caps on the toothpaste! Especially, when they leave it so that toothpaste crusts around the rim of the tube. That shit is gross, and I don't see how you think you can get your mouth clean, when all kinds of (doo-doo) particles have probably landed on the opening!!!





2. Speaking of toothpaste tubes....it makes me super happy when I'm able to go from the beginning of the last drop of toothpaste always squeezing from the bottom up like it says to do on the tube. And it pisses me off, when someone ruins it by squeezing in the middle. =(






3. Hot Sauce. Vinegary, hot sauce. I swear if I could eat it in cereal, on ice cream, cake, ANYTHING...and it tasted good, I would! (for now, I'll stick to chicken wings, any meat product, rice, french fries, or anything in the salty family of foods) That shit is just deeeeelishis! Whomever invented it should get like a 1000 gold stars, and automatic entrance into heaven!






4. I like when I have a palindromic number on my odometer. I have 75457 miles on my car? Oh YEAH!!! I even like when there are number pairings that I deem cool: (61111. Sweet! 112182. Wow that's my birthday! 888888. Crazy Eights amazing!!) I've even gone out of my way to make sure no one would drive my car when I knew a good number would come up; and hate myself if I forgot to look down at the odometer when I knew one was coming up (88890...Dammit!). You may think I'm strange, but my friends understand....and they even play along with me now! lol





5. Another road game that I have is spotting interesting license plates, and I have a "Rain Man-ian" like ability to remember the license plate numbers of my friends and family. Not just the custom kind like the bitch lady to totaled my baby Zeus a few years ago who's license plate read, "MEE OOW" (<----I KID YOU NOT!! Cat lover much?!?). But simple ones like, Jezebel's "P33 4CC" and Zeus's "T25 ZIP" two of my old car plates...why do I still remember them?? Because Jezebel had 4cc's of pee (gross, nmemonic device, I know) and Zeus was zippy like The 25 year-old (I dunno it worked for me). And the one below I could NEVER forget! =)



6. In case you didn't catch on above, I like naming my cars. Every car I have ever owned has had a name:
- Rusty: My first car (1985 Osmobile Cutlass Cierra) who was appropriately named for his baby blue and rust exterior.
- Zeus: My 2nd and favorite car (1995 Nissan 200sx) a stick shift that was cute, small, fast and sporty, like me (minus the who "sporty" aspect)...lol
- Jezebel: My 3rd car (2002 Hyundai Elantra), she was burgundy and very moody, stalling at the most inopportune times...*sigh*
- Rebel: The car I'm sportin' now (1994 Jeep Wrangler) is just red, but because it's a jeep, makes me feel like I should be riding fast over some bumpy-assed terrain.


7. I REALLY like doodling my signature over and over. Now I don't have grandiose delusions of becoming famous or none of that nonsense, but I just really like my signature. Even though many of my friends say it doesn't look like anything but a bunch of loops, between you and me, I think they're secretly jealous...lol.


8. I'm addicted to "lol". I use it frequently and liberally, even if I don't literally laugh-out-loud, I just think it helps things translate better in writing/emailing/chatting/blogging (as sometimes ppl can't tell when I'm being sarcastic)...lol!


9. Uncreased books and magazines. For some reason that just makes me feel peachy! I like when I am able to read a book several times and keep it in as pristine condition as I can. Thus I hate library/used books. People just don't know how to NOT dog ear the pages. >:-(




10. Guranora Frutsu (Granola Fruits) is the best FRICKIN' cereal on the planet!!! I can sustain myself on this for days; morning, noon, evening snack and dinner! I'm petitioning that Kellogg's import this stuff from Japan for American consumption! I miss this stuff!





There ya go...10 more interesting, random tidbits about me! Don't you feel like my kin/bff, now? *wink*



Welcome to my world!! (and I can say that officially....lol)

**UPDATE**

Bonus Favorite

11. The "divots"...these are what I call the male hip slashes...mmm....just damn sexy, and are my SECOND favorite male body part, next to their......brain =) *wink*

McFatness!

We all know that McDonald's is not the corner stone of healthy, nutritional meals, but I think that if the United States were to import some of the items off of the Japanese Mickey D's menu, the obesity epidemic would skyrocket!



So, how do they keep these goodies away from the artery-clogged Americans?? They stick bits of deliciousness in the land where the the people have to make deals with the devil, AND both tempt fate and their metabolisms just to put on 2 lbs. Now somehow, I managed not to get sucked into feeding my face everyday with "Makudonarudo" while I was there, but dammit, I can't promise the same if they came over here with it. So I got to reminiscing, and boy....let's just say I got out of Japan just in time!



Let's start with the most foolish:



BEHOLD the Mega Mac!


Though it's no Quadruple Bypass...it sure could give it a run for its money! And it was quite hilarious trying to watch big and small people alike trying to take a "normal" bite of this monstrosity.

But wait...that's not all!! They also had spin-offs, because what's a Mega Mac without either a heaping, hunk of tomato or eggs inside!?!? It's Dee-lishis...apparently.



However, no talk of Japanese McDonalds' can go any further without mentioning, MY FAVORITE thing on the menu....McFlurries...mmm! Sure McFlurries, here in the good ol' US, are quite tasty in their own right, but the Japanese just take it to another level, adding more flavors to tingle your taste buds...

My two favorite...Caramel-Oreo McFlurry (on the right) Strawberry-Oreo (on the left):


Milk tea flavor, which came out right before I left (quite scrumptious!):


and

Blueberry-Oreo (mm-mm-mmm):


This one that came out AFTER I left (daaaaayum!!!) Caramel Macchiato-Kit Kat:


and, my least favorite, but perennial Japanese favorite, Matcha (Green Tea)-Oreo:


The thing that's great is that they change it up...but the thing that sucks is that if you find one you really like they take it away, far too soon. =(

You know what....on second thought....Boy, do I miss Japan!

O-BA-MA...O-BA-MA!!

We have a new president y'all!! (Did I set the movement back with that "y'all" at the end??)

Okay granted, he was elected months ago, so we all knew that, but yesterday made it official! And boy was I holding my ass, like I was watching a big game. In my last post I noted how much I love football; and along with basketball, those are the two sports that I regularly watch on TV.

So, because of this, and because of my superstitious nature, I've developed some habits that I use to ensure good luck. First of them being that I ALWAYS cross my fingers, and I keep them crossed until half-time, where I allow myself a small break. Then I re-cross for the remainder of the game. And if I must eat or use the bathroom (Yes, I can manage to wipe AND wash my hands after), best believe that the fingers remain crossed!!

And the second of my many superstitions is that I hold on to my teddy bear, Eddie Pantuso, but I only bring him out for the BIG games, where all things are on the line!!

I tend to look a little something like this:

When things are good



When things are bad



Crazy look yes, but quite effective.

If I for whatever reason uncross the fingers, or can't find Eddie during a crucial game, then I'm just about certain that my team will lose...(I'm sorry for all the Heat, Dolphins and Hurricanes losses that I may have inadvertently caused.)

Okay so with that said, and with Obama being sworn in as the 44th P.O.T.U.S. AND being the numero UNO African American President, I certainly couldn't leave things up to chance, (white some people have been known to be crazy sometimes). So I treated this like the BIG GAME...the NBA Finals, the Super Bowl, the BCS Championships times 10!

And I kept my fingers crossed and Eddie nearby as he swore in, and again as he braved walking down the pavement during the parade route; and all went relatively smooth...thanks to me!



I laughed, I cried, and I felt pure elation for the significance of this day, and witnessing this piece of history. I hope one day I can pass this story on to my children, who will hopefully have a better future, in part because of this man:

I saw London, and a BIT more than France...

Yes, I ADORE football.

I am not your average girl. I actually watch football for the love of the sport. I actually understand the game, and I can intelligibly spout off stats and commentary with the male species, without much aid from ESPN cliffs notes.

However, the difference between dudes and I, is that unlike those inflicted with a Y-chromosome, I can truly enjoy the gratuitous show of delicious bodies that show up on the gridiron week in and out for the 16 weeks in the fall (much like the umpteen women that watch only for this reason). So it was with sheer delight, and banshee shrieking that my hawkish eyes chanced upon this gem that, only symbolically **sigh**, dropped in my lap today.



Let's take a closer look...shall we??



Pause. Drool. Napkin. Wipe. Drool. Sigh. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Kinda makes you wanna drop in his lap, no??

Yes, in fact, I'll call this a belated birthday/Christmas gift, courtesy of Dominique Rogers-Cromartie, who before today, I had little knowledge of. He's a rookie, and maybe it was a rookie mistake, but I'll be waiting come Super Bowl time to see if he'll make it again!

**POST SCRIPT SIDE NOTE**

If I haven't turned you ladies out there into football fans with that...then feast on...err...allow me to introduce Minnesota Viking's tight end Visanthe Shiancoe. (<----NOT safe for work)

Y'all can thank me later...*wink*.

Quadruple by-pass burger, anyone???

There's a fat person inside all of us, but does your inner fat person know when, "Dammit I need to stop?!?!"

Now I've been tempted by some pretty tasty burgers in my day....and granted, I really enjoy eating Publix cupcakes, and Wing Stop french fries, and Cool Ranch Doritos, and sweet & sour chicken/fried rice combo... (mmmmm, excuse me whilst wipe the drool from my chin) just as much as the next overweight gal or guy, but know not to eat ALL that in one setting...and I certainly don't like to temp fate like this:




Makes me want to run to the nearest toilet bowl, just to throw up my morning bowl of Cheerios, and jog around the block a couple of times, and pull out the Billy Blanks to make sure my arteries don't start clogging. Maybe that's just me??

Grandmas tell the best stories...

So here was the exchange last night between my mother, and my visiting 3-year-old nephew when he asked her to read him a bedtime story (without the book):

Nephew: Grandma, please read me a Nemo bedtime stowwy.

My mother: Once upon a time, there was a red fish named Nemo; and I don't know what the hell happened to Nemo...

Oh poor Nemo.

There's always some truth to myths.

Nessie. Yeti. Bigfoot. Leprechauns. Unicorns. Gummy Bears. Smurfs. The One.

What do all of these things have in common? They're all mythical creatures that are impossible to find, and so you cry out "bullshit!" when you hear that someone has tracked them down. Yet despite the lack of evidence, somewhere in the crevices of your mind, you know they're out there lurking, begging to be caught, and brought to light. Now, let's add another mythical beast to the ever-growing list. Another anomaly that maybe you've heard about, maybe you haven't, but nonetheless is out there in broad daylight taunting me, and the dozens or hundreds of others that have been privy to witness the sight!

The guy who abuses bald spot concealers.

I know what you're thinking. "WTF?? There's no such thing." But I'm telling you now there is! I saw him with my own two eyes...at Walmart. Lemme explain.



**SIDE NOTE**
Rarely am I ever caught without my camera. Ever since I was a budding photojournalist in high school, I usually try to keep a camera in my purse for such rare photographic opportunities. For example, on Christmas eve, I made an appearance at church when, surprise, who walks in the door....Joel Anthony from the Miami Heat. Granted it's not the biggest catch of the day (i.e. Dwyane myfuturebabydaddy Wade), but I was the only one who got a picture thanks to my trusty camera!

SEE



And there was the time on South Beach when I was in high school, when I caught Tyson Beckford on a moped chillin', actin' all high siddidy with his old gay ass....got his picture too!!

Anyhoo, I digress...

So New Year's Eve, my buddy and partner in crime, Leannie, calls me up to head on over to Walmart to pick up a few things for our impromptu countdown party. As we were debating over chicken vs. pork, this man, this creature, his head (!!!) passed right in front of my line of vision. Needless to say I was SPEECHLESS! The absurdity. The audacity. The what-the-fuckery.

My eyes quickly sought out Leannie's to see if her reaction confirmed what I'd just witnessed. Could it be true? Was my mind playing tricks on me?? She saw it, I saw it, hell every shopper snickering in his wake saw it, and I knew we all WERE NOT hallucinating.

I had to see it again though, and as we were in the macaroni aisle, he surfaced again. There he was, in his own world talking on his cell phone, drawing even more unnecessary attention to himself, by being loud and pacing the lane like an expectant father in a hospital hallway. And upon further inspection, his absolutely bald head (save for the small tuft of hair to the top, like Homer Simpson) was plastered with the thick black paint used to cover up minor bald spots. Yes, this fool spray painted his WHOLE HEAD, and his hairline, which included a perfectly formed widow's peak, was now dripping down his face and neck (due to nervous sweating, perhaps??).

I knew then and there that I had to have a picture. This had to be immortalized. People would not believe me if I told this tale without proof. So as I reached into my purse to pull out my light blue camera (conspicuous much?) to capture this fleeting myth before me, I came up empty. Crikey!!! Just the night before, I was uploading pictures to the evil that is facebook, and had forgotten to put my camera back. And since I'm the lone person on the planet whose phone DOESN'T come with a camera, I thought all was lost....

...until Leannie came through with her phone! And she became my camerawoman dodging aisles, shelves, and shopping carts AND risked getting cussed out (since ol' painthead and his wingman got hip to game and began evading us like paparazzi) to take the picture. Granted it was probably in bad taste, and extremely rude of us to harass this man who was just trying to pick up a few Walmart goods, but on the other hand he should have known better, and should have taken a hard, cold look in the mirror before leaving the house in that state.

So without further delay, I bring to you my proof! Mind you, the pics are very much in the vein of Bigfoot & the Loch Ness Monster...a little hard to see, and blurry, but it's better than nothing.

Exhibit #1


Exhibit #2

Not quite the year of the Dolphins...

...but still a successful year nonetheless.

Granted, I wasn't here to witness the downfall of last year, nor most of the return to respectability this year, but I was catching the tail end of something special. Maybe it was too much to hope that we'd go all the way this year, after having went 1-15 last year, and having not made the playoffs since 2001, AND the fact that we haven't played in an AFC championship game since 1992.

But the fact that we DID go 11-5 this year is Cinderella story enough. Huge turnaround. Loads of respect. Had this been any other season, where we were touted highly to be the "Super Bowl or Bust" team (a la the JETS) then we, like the affore mentioned suckers, would have been a bust. And Miamians all around would curse the team, and prepare themselves to hop off the flaming bandwagon until the party got roaring again. (Yeah, I have to admit, that Miami-fans, of ALL sports, are the worse at supporting the teams when they suck. There's no Bostonian/Chicagoan pride here. Uh-uh. You lose. You suck. We'll holla at ya when there're more W's posted.)

But this year, no one suspected a season this good. One might've thought a mediocre turn around, but I doubt anyone thought playoffs, much less a winning record. So though we lost today, it's not a loss to weep over. We can still hold our heads high. We enjoyed the ball since we were lucky to have been invited. Now we'll just feast on smashed pumpkins, pick up our glass slipper, and tuck it away until next year to give us the motivation to get to the big dance.

Get on the good foot...

In honor of the eve of New Year's Eve, and with all the crappy crap that sucks, I'll take a page out of the James Brown Bible NIV: I Got You (I Feel Good) Chapter 1 Verse 2,

"I feel nice, like sugar and spice I feel nice, like sugar and spice So nice, so nice, I got you."

Okay really I still ain't got nobody, and I don't feel that got dayum nice (especially with no liquor in my system), but well it's all about optimism! And what better place to start feeling optimistic than at the start of a new year. It's the time of year when you metaphorically get to wipe your slate clean and start over.....(before you eventually fuck it up within the first few weeks, but hey it feels good for the time being!!)

So anyhow, I guess I'll share some of my resolutions with you...and see if they go uphill or downhill starting day after tomorrow.

Let's cross our fingers as I attempt these following things this year:

1. Begin a meaningful career.

• Being as how I've graduated a full 4 years ago, enough time has passed for me to have gone to school and completed a second Bachelors degree. Dandy. Yet within this time, the only time that I have actually used my degree was sort of in Japan when I taught English. (but truth be told, I didn't need my degree to excel at that job)
• And since I have allowed law firms to slowly suck the life out of me for rough 3 of those 4 years out of school, I refuse to go back!!!
• Lastly I'm a writer. I write. That's what I want to do. The degree says Creative Writing (and communications)...so dammit I'm gonna creatively write, and communicate...you hear me??

2. Apply to grad schools.

• Yeah, I have intentions of getting there, but I worry about my grades and recommendations, and my writing, and my personal statement, and hale, and Miami snow storms, and chupacabras, and everything, and nothing that has to do with the applying process.
• I'm a procrastinator and I need to just do it already.

3. Stop procrastinating.

• Yeah, this one's on my list every year. Here's hoping I don't fail on day 1.

4. Lose some poundage.

• This one's another old standard. I pretty much lost a lot of it in Japan, but I can stand to lose a few more.
• So this entails running or some sort of exercise, which I kinda loathe to do, but I've managed to do it before, I can do it again.

5. Engage myself in a successful relationship.

• This one is contingent on finding a dude that vibes with me as much as I vibe with him, and someone that I can view as my equal (and being a hottie with a brain, great conversation & sense of humor, and good skills in the sack won't hurt either...*wink*) Though it seems that a lot of guys my age aren't ready to settle down, or don't have their shit together, I can't assume that they're all that way. Something's gotta give.
• I've been single for a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time. Yeah, single-SINGLE! Like, going on 3 years....tomorrow...kind of single...I kid you not. Like I said, something's gotta give!!

6. Keep this blog going.

• Yeah I get lazy. (see resolution #3) But I've been good so far.

7. See Maxwell in concert.

• Black Summer's Night besta be coming out SOON!

8. I don't know I'm trying to force this thing to ten, but I'm out of resolutions...and well, since 8's like an infinity if you turn it sideways, so let's just pretend that they go on forever and ever so I can make up some new ones as I see fit within the year!

How about y'all?? Of my dozens and dozens of readers...what resolutions do y'all have?

wah-wah-wah...

...feeling like Charlie Brown. Good grief.



I got a fricking speeding ticket today. Add it to the trash pile of bad luck for me lately. My streak is over.

I haven't had a speeding ticket since I was a junior in college, and that was off some foolishness too. I piled up my roomates (plus one) into my small, Nissan 200sx coupe. And the five of us were riding on down to the Walmart on Apalachee Parkway to suppliement our aparment on our meager college student means. And there was this car next to us looking like they wanted a race...and being as I had a sporty car, and the inability to resist a dare (much like Marty McFly), I revved up my engine........

.....and as I pulled past the sucker, this sucker was pulled over.

Damn po'-po's.

I wanna start a petition to round up all speeding ticket officers trying to make quota, and put them in a Ben Stein lectured traffic school room, for-EV-VUR....FOR-EV-UR....FOR-EV-VUR!!!

Who's with me???

In the 5th your ass goes down...

So goes my life in this moment.

I went from having "everything" to "nothing" (well, it's all relative, in more ways than one). My life in Japan, far different from my life now. If before, I said that I was entrenched in a quarterlife crises, then its current condition is critical and on life support.

And I need out.

I've always been self-reliant. Still am. But it seems that for me, life has to back me into a corner for me to move full steam forward. It's the procrastinator in me that requires that heart-pounding, bullet sweating, "oh-shit-am-I-gonna-fuck-up-or-pull-through" inertia. I thrive on it, usually, and I'm needing it now. I have these feeling of sinking, and though I need a floatie, I'd rather drown than become a charity case.

And even though Marcellus Wallace would tell me, "That's pride, fucking with ya. Fuck Pride! Pride only hurts, it never helps," in this case my pride is what'll pull me through.

It has to.

Chim Chiminey, Chim Chiminey, Chim, Chim Che-ree...

So at the club I roll with a moving, smoking chimney.

Yeah, while I was gone for almost a year and a half, my home team crew, picked up this black n' mild habbit. I'm neither pleased nor amused, but they're my friends, and I don't judge them (except when we're engaged in some hardcore clowning of each other).

You, see if it's one thing I hate, other than dudes ripping my arms out of their sockets the minute I get into the club, and dudes who wanna be your club boyfriend for the night because you danced with them for a song, that NEVER ONCE ask to buy you a drink (NO NEGRO you don't get to roll with me), it's coming home smelling like smoke.

But yeah, yeah...I know it's part of the territory. People smoke in clubs.

Question #1. Clubs : Smoke ::

a) Weed : Marijuana
b) Winn Dixie : Shoplift
c) Fucking : Your Parent's Room
d) dogs : cats
e) Fuck you : I don't do SAT analogy test questions anymore!

If you, picked any answer other than b) then you're not the dork that I am...(anyhoo, I digress).

Yeah, so as I was saying, my girls are now club smokers. What they've explained to me is that they get a buzz from the nicotine, and that it in fact enhances the buzz felt by the liquor. And while the thought of enhancing anything that feels good sounds appealing, the image that smoking (black n' milds, especially) portrays, is not.

I've become like this prissy "white girl" (<----hence my nickname amongst my crew) who can't just have fun, with the perpetual stankface because I can't breathe. And, it sort of feels like the classy crew that I roll with, has now been in fact TARnished by tobacco.

Anyhoo, they're my girls, and I'll just accept my chimney sweep position in the rank and file, and keep it moving. And as my boy Dick Van Dyke once sang:

"Though I'm covered with soot
From me 'ead to me toes
A sweep knows 'e's welcome
Wherever 'e goes."

What'chu readin' Palin??

Everything.

So hopefully that includes this blog right cheeeere! (But of course that's just wishful thinking...."wishful" in assuming anyone reads this.)

Actually, in having a conversation with one of my best friends yesterday I've come to a kind of sad realization....for me. With the exception of my professors, who got paid to do so, NOT ONE PERSON (family or friends) has ever read most of anything that I've written. I've heard them spout (brag??) to others about my "talent", and how great of a writer I am, but ask one to recall a story, a poem, a blog...they'd lose that final jeopardy question.

So says my girl (paraphrasing): "But you're so guarded, that maybe people don't want to seem like they're intruding. And you never know if they want to read, it if you don't ask them to read it."

And I say, yes that's true, but no I won't buy that with a food stamp card.

Chew on this pipe for a second: If a family member or friend was in a movie, would you not want to go see that movie? If they were painting a wall would you not want to steal a glance?? Hell, if they were in a 10 second clip on the news, would you not wait up for the 11 o'clock update?

And then answer me this: Would they have to ask you to do so?? My guess is maybe, but probably not.

I get it...reading is boring. It's difficult. It's the kind of art (yes ART), that doesn't come to you easily; in fact, it must be saught to be truly enjoyed. If it doesn't come with pictures, half the time, even I think twice about whether or not I want to bother. But it doesn't make it less important, or even less enjoyed.

So that's what makes gets me discouraged, when it comes to pursuing this career. It's not that I don't feel needed...Barnes & Nobles (for the time being) ain't going no where...it's that I don't feel WANTED.

Big difference...and maybe Sarah Palin, in trying to have been the first woman vp, knows a thing or two about that.

Guess who's back!?!

yawn...as if anyone cares...but well I do this for me I guess...

I've been "back" in more ways than one: Back in the states, back on the sceen, back to the wall with my gangsta lean....

Yeah, I'm back. And broke, and in need of finding some sort of employment. I left Japan, thinking things would be cake, but yet that was over a month ago, and I've only gotten ONE (Yesssir, count 'em O-N-E!) interview request. And I'm kinda like, "What the fux?" But then again, I'm trying to do this writing thing, and being as how no one's really read my shit (more on that later) I can't really expect them to be banging down my door, like groupie hoes backstage at a rap concert. Ya know?

But, I'm fully entrenched in a mini quarter-life crisis...having turned 25 (the Remix) and being 4 more years to 30, I'm more than aware that I have to get on the ball before I end up one of those people that are still confused about life when they hit that all important era of their lives.
(30 is the new 20 my eye!)

1) At thirty you ain't supposed to be allowed to sleep until 1:00 pm, just 'cause you're to tired to get up from a night of tequila shots, smoke-filled rooms, and grindin' up on men/women.

2) At thirty you can't be living up under your mama's roof, still working at Walmart, and only paying your car note, cell phone bill, and maybe the cable bill...y'know to "help out".

3) At thirty you can go off about your bid-naaz, without alerting the child(ren) you have that you're gonna get missin' for a few...

Frankly, there's shit you can get away with at 20-something, than at 30-something...by then you're just an irresponsible, fuck up beyond repair...as opposed to a plain ol' irresponsible fuck up who needs to get their shit together.

Granted, I'm not there...nor to I plan to ever fall into that former OR latter category, but the thought of that scares me. But I still have a few things on my side.

1) I already have my Bachelor's Degree.
2) I have no kids.
3) I have no family/relationship drama to deal with.
4) I'm cute....(right???) *wink*
5) I have goals and drive and talent.

That should put me where I need to be, me thinks so that in the next four years I'll be sittin' pretty, making that cheddar, and laugh about how scary and fun my 20s were.

Last Time...I'mma huh???

What’s the hell’s going on inside the mind of Trey Songz? He currently has one of my favorite songs out, and despite the fact that I’d sing this shit in my bathroom mirror with the same pouty, conviction as Mr. Songz himself, the first few lines of that song has me seriously scratching my head. (though you MUST check out the rest of the lyrics...game-spittin' poetry) Anyhow, he tells his “jump-off“ that he’s in effect, “jumping-off” by telling her verbatim, “This has gotta be the last time [that we fuck]. It’s gonna be the best though. I promise.”

In the eloquent words of Lil’ Jon…..WHAAAAT!?!?


Who falls for this kind of foolishness? I know it’s just a song and all, but dammit, I know that somewhere, at sometime in the history of being the second (or even third or fourth place) chick on the side, there was a girl who symbolically scrubbed her face off the floor, while simultaneously dropping her panties. And you know what…because this has worked before, some audacious asshole will try it again, and it will work….again.

Sigh…ladies we have got to do better…

Like An Albino Alligator...

...or



I'm fucking pale!! I don't think I've ever been this light-skinded ever in my life. It's so bad that my boobs are the same color as my face. Worse yet, no one can "gimme five on the black hand side," because they wouldn't be able to tell which side it is!!

Where's my summer sun, dammit?? I need my Brazilian glow back! Not this "gecko-esque" look that me (and my homegirl) are currently sportin'...

Who can resist a man wearing Kitty-chan (Hello Kitty) paraphernalia?!?!

Surely not I!!





You're telling me that you aren't able to see all that fine, manliness that's lurking just behind the Kitty-Chan surgical mask, beckoning you with those dreamy eyes?!?! Really? Not even if you squint real hard, and tilt your head 45 degrees to the left?? No??


This is one topic that I've been wanting to spill all about...the men in Japan. I read somewhere (like on some serious legit shit...not just foolishness I made up to create "facts") that Japanese women were the mostly likely of all races to date outside their own, yet Japanese men were the most likely not to. Hmmmm....now what does that say about Japanese men? More for me!! (once I can convince a few of them to see the deliciousness that is my caramel ass right here)...**lickin' my chops, and furiously rubbing my hands together, while trying to stifle back a mischievous cackle**

Okay, no for real, I can understand why Nihon-jin (Japanese guys from Japan) guys get no love...it's because, frankly put, they look like girls. **Think I'm joking, take a look at my exhibits below. And since they already "allegedly" ain't working with much (if y'know what I mean or what ya girl Condi means) it's easy for them to be mistaken for one. And I for one, ain't tryna pretend that I'm bumpin' coochies with another girl....uh-unhh! (weeeeeeell, unless that coochie is attached to Salma Hayek...then maybe I'll have to make an exception...j/k...I'm still strickly dickly!)

Anyhow, though I'm getting used to the "androgynous" look of these "guys" I can't say that I don't continuously find myself shocked by the level of comfort of their feminine side. And you too can be surprised!



Ex. #1: Popular J-Pop "boy band" Smap!





Ex. #2: Some "dude"



Ex. #3: Some girly man in Harajuku

Ex. #4: A girly man-band in Harajuku

Ex. #5: A devoted "boifurendo" carrying his girlfriends purse, and wearing complimentary Disney hairclips at Tokyo Disneyland



Ex. #6: The Hello Kitty house shoes (the black ones near the open door), last seen worn by a guy entering my local 7-11 (I kid you not!)


Oh, but there's so much more!! I'll have to re-up this post with more field photography...keep checking back...

Procrastination mixed with Hesitation is the work of the Devil!!

Yeah so I've slacked off...so I'm appologizing to my dozen (okay more like donut holes) readers out there...y'all know who you are!

I just be overthinking this blog-shit sometimes, and I don't know if I really wanna write what I'm thinking because I have a hard time making things short and sweet. And I'm only a bit of a perfectionist when I write, and I read, and re-read, and edit and re-edit, until it's the perfect part witty and smart. (<---I'm sure I'll re-read and edit what I just wrote in a few hours anyway). So needless to say I haven't posted diddly-squat. So, I'm jumping back on that Rodeo-Pro (man I wish I had one for real!!) and I'mma get to typing out some mo' fun reads for ya!! Gomenasai!!! (Japanese-speak for "I'm sorry!")

There's No Place Like Home...There's No Place Like Home...

Okay so I'll throw my two yen into this on-going debate, because it's super imperative. It's been known to tear apart friendships, cause sleepless nights, and divide a nation of people. No, I'm not talking about Obama vs. Clinton. Uh-uh, that's an important topic for real journalists and serious bloggers to tackle on another day. Today, it's another unspeakable "war", one in which eventually you have to take sides:



vs.



Oh, yes my friends....right now your minds are already turning...you're already drawing your lines in the sand, daring your friends with sideways glances to toe the other side...are you with me, or are you against me.....or are you just one of those losers who proclaim ignorance of either, so you remain like Switzerland planted firmly in the middle surfing wikipedia or watching videos on youtube?

First off know that I'm a member of both of these websites, but my loyalty lies firmly with one of them. I don't know if that is an indication that I typify the stereotype that goes along with identifying with that site. But know that there are stereotypes on both sides. Very Republican/Democratic-esque.

Fuck it...I'll come out and say it because you'll see my bias in a minute anyhow, so ain't no use denying my red-headed cousin with the lazy eye. I'm a MYSPACER....4 LYFE!!

Fact of the matter is, I really can't stand facebook sometimes. And it all stems from their uppity, 'wannabe' exclusivity. Yeah, once upon a time, even before I discovered myspace, I was a facebook reject. I found out about the shit all hella late (like the last scragglers at a frat party, tryna get in before all the hunch punch runs out). And just like anytime they're giving away free alcohol, I wanted ins! Unfortunately, I was about seven months removed from serving time at FSU, and since student emails get cut off six months out, I no longer had the neon colored "wristband" to get in on the goods. After a few futile attempts to re-establish my FSU account, and prove that in fact I did attend college AND graduated, facebook just kept slapping me in the face with a "HELL-TO-THE-NAW"!

So, I shot 'em the bird, told them to fuck off because I didn't want no part of they stankin' ass party no way....likka's prolly all watered down anyway, and y'all be doing the same tired dances, so I'm scraaaight. (Alright dammit I was really pissed off, sad like, 'Why y'all don't want me?', but hey what could I do?)

Run straight into the open arms of myspace, is what I did. They didn't judge me based on whether or not I'd attended college or any of that nonsense. They liked me for who I was, for what I brought to the table...they didn't just like my doggystyle! I had friends y'all...a top 12 (all the old heads remember that you couldn't get more than that)! I could customize my page and freely stalk...ummm....err....browse people's profiles. Myspace was growing, Tom was inching in on his first trillion friends, and frankly myspace was taking over...making people lose sleep, neglect their children, and lose their jobs! It was an amazing time...*sigh*...nostalgia...or as the Japanese say "natsukashi".

That is.....until those people over there at facebook (who are those 'people' anyway??...at least Tom's gotta face) realized that nobody cared about their bougie site, and started to relax their criteria for admission. Yeah, they came back to me, with their tails between their legs begging me to give them another chance. "Please come back," they said. "We're sorry. We've made a huge mistake. Boo-hoo-hoo!" So I had to tell them, though not quite as eloquently as Whitney, to kiss my ass!

And I stayed anti-facebook for a HAWT minute...until I came to Japan, and I found myself in a land with no friends. And the friends that I did try to acquire were on that other side of this political divide........*gasp*......they were facebookers! So I reluctantly crossed over into enemy territory to keep in touch with these people, who despite this affliction, I actually liked. And slowly, I started conforming to the ways of this new site...and I shudder at the thought....started liking facebook. Hey, it was a new affair, and I felt dirty for liking it...I was cheating on my husband with the hot guy from college that rejected me....initially it was wrong...but yet oh, so right....until....

...I finally woke up out of that stupor, and starting noticing all the little nagging things that I just couldn't get past. Like, why e'rrybody and they mama gotta know that I was talkikn' shit on s0-and-so's page, or posted some crazy comment on someone's pic....stay out my bidnaz mang!! Or why they gotta make it so hard to look at people's profiles? How do you expect me to make random friends?? Hell, I can't even search for old classmates (that I don't all too much care about) because I'm not in the damn FSU network because I STILL don't have an FSU account. Or, why when I wanna try out some new survey or application, I gotta add that shit to my page first?? I don't need a 1001 applications to my already boring ass page. AND THEN on top of that, why you tryna Jehovah Witness me into harassing my friends to add applications, just so I can access the one I just added?!? 'The fucks up with that?? AND, AND, AND why, oh why, must one need a regular wall and a 'Super Wall'....is one wall not enough?!?

All I know is I've had enough...facebook's too full of themselves. Just like a bunch of uppity Republicans, that think they're better than everybody because they're all "edu-macated" and stuff. And, Lawd knows I don't care for no republicans (save for my mama, and a few of the misguided Nicaraguans who still vote republican for some reason).

Sure, myspace is more "Democratic": accepting the less desirables like pedophiles, welfare mamas, 10-year old chicken heads, and my ex-boyfriend, but dammit, when you add up the sum of all it's parts, it's all about the people....and that's where I call home. Gimme my bulletins, gimme my layouts, gimme the browse button with customizing features, and most importantly (gimme $2) gimme comments that "Show Me Some Love".