Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Like all best friends in a circle of four, my best friends and I assigned a character of Sex and The City to each other. Only one of us disagreed, but the rest of us took a liking to and accepted our series persona. You'd have to know me intimately to believe that I'm most like Charlotte. Yes, like her I'm prudish, I (still) believe in love, and I'm the emotional one in the bunch. There was an episode when Samantha discovered that one of her lovers was cheating on her. This important fact was revealed while she and the rest of the girls were relaxing in a sauna. Seems Samantha's lover had a fetish for shaving his initials in a lady's most intimate areas, and she wasn't the only person baring his monogram. Practice makes perfect, huh? The entire scene was too much for Charlotte. Firstly, she wasn't up for seeing and discussing Samantha's hairdownthere. Secondly, she didn't get how everyone so freely disrobed and revealed themselves to the whole (sauna) world. Here, is where we're A LOT alike.

When my body was at it's t-t-tightest, I was always the most reserved of the bunch. You know the slumber party scene where the girls are sitting around in their Chrissy Snow jammies, eating junk food, and swapping boy stories? I was there always, yes. Everyone else would be whipping stuff off left and right. Oh me, I'd quietly retreat to the bathroom and get undressed and dressed. There were rare occasions when I'd have to disrobe in front of others, like freaking bridesmaid fittings, small hotel rooms, etc. But when not forced, I'd do my thang on the solo tip.

Patting myself on the back for being the smallest I've been in like 7 years, I've been going to the gym and not eating! Well, I eat but really in moderation with the bullshyt intake being very low. I love being this size and now I'm just trying to tone the hell up. A few weeks ago, I went to my gym, at work. If you notice, most times when you enter the locker room, it's hardly ever a direct path. You normally turn at least once or twice before you are actually in the locker room. I'm assuming this universal design is to protect the privacy of the members.

On this particular day, I went to the gym with my co-worker. I went straight to the handicap stall (save your judgments) and she, to the changing area. As soon as I rounded the corner, I encountered a naked woman, standing in the mirror blow drying her hair. (BTW, standing in the mirror is a funny phrase) I hated everything and was embarrassed. Why? Our eyes never met, but I knew EXACTLY who she CO-WORKER!!!!!!!!!!!! Ugh. I wanted to leave. I was willing to put my weight loss goals aside and just say "ef it." Hoping like hell it was her long lost twin, I peeped through the cracks trying to get a better glimpse of her face. I still wasn't quite sure, until another co-worker came out of nowhere and started discussing some new work related regulation that had just passed. Talk about a meeting in the ladies room. I had already changed and absolutely refused to come out until she left. The dressed co-worker left and the nude one stayed. Hell, her hair seemed dry to me. "Leave already," I thought. I fiddled around some more - shifting shyt in my bag; untying and tying my shoes; peeping and ducking. Finally, after a few more finger rakes through her hair, she left. In a millisecond, I exhaled and collapsed my forehead on the bathroom door. I was mentally exhausted! Realizing that fiasco had taken a chunk out of my workout, I grabbed my bag and left. When I got to the treadmill section, where my work-out buddy was waiting, she looked at me like "What took so long?" I made a face saying, "Girl you don't even want to know." Without seeming psycho, how could I tell her I was stalled in the stall?

Friday, July 16, 2010

New Heights

Yesterday did the most.  I'm all over the web and received some exciting news, like hands shaking, top of the lung screaming news.  I grabbed my cell and called my best friend in the whole wide world.  She's that "ride or die" girlfriend we all need and want in our lives. So, I'm yelling at her and she's yelling at me and I imagined, if the miles weren't so great between us, that we'd be jumping up and down, clinking glasses, and splashing mimosas everywhere.  Instead, she popped my eardrums and vicey versey.*  I tried to write down everything she was saying, but I couldn't.  Fuck it.  We're besties and I'll get the details and career advice later, I thought. Sharing that moment with her was the best.  I didn't think "if only I had a man" I'd call him first.  Nope, I didn't.  He would have been second or third and I envision a celebratory e-bouquet or card sent to me.  Yup, he's so phucking sweet.  He would have done just that.  Gosh, I'm gonna love him.

*I know these aren't real words, but they're hella fun to say. 

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Kissing Cousins

I try to be witty and all when I come up with my blog post titles, but there wasn't much I could do with this.  Wait, all of a sudden I see I could have titled my post ANY of the following:
  • All in The Family
  • It's All Relative
  • Blood is Thicker than Water
*These all fit and cover like a mug.  Why? Ohhhhh, because a little birdie told me that one of my cousins is married to their distant cousin and they both know it.  Haaaaa!  Think this is hilarious. 

*(that's native DC/Washingtonian talk for "it really applies.")

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Special Delivery

I love family.
I love my family.
I love spending time with my family.
They're fun and funny.   Moments occur over birthday parties and during casual gatherings that stay with me forever.  Things are rarely heavy and when they are, they have the propensity to get light, real quick.  I blame Durrell, James called by his co-workers and non-family members.

Born with a hole in his heart, about 40 years ago, he has been such a gift.  For as long as I can remember, we've ALWAYS had cackles with and because of him. Sometimes he's purposefully making us laugh, with his sporadic dance moves and others, it's completely unintentional.

I don't know what to call him, 'sides my cousin.  I guess medically or socially, he's "mentally challenged."  He has the mind of a young child, maybe 9 or 10 years old.  There are times when his knowledge downright shocks us, thus the laughter.  He'll never live alone, though his departure from living with my aunt, uncle, and cousin are constant topics of any conversation you'll ever have with him.  He scours the sales paper for furniture to put on layaway.  Oh and he loves perusing the Sunday papers for newly listed homes for sale.  An impromptu pop over to my aunt's for a visit easily starts with a Durrell hug, coupled with the sound of rattling paper.  Yep, behind his back is a newspaper.  The hug will prematurely end with a newspaper shoved in your face and a plea or invite, depending on his mood, to help him "move."  Obsessively, for the rest of my visit, I'm asked about helping him move with his WIFE AND SON, LOL!  See, that's the part that's not of a 10 year old's mind.  He wants out and to be on his own. Eh eh, ain't happening, but you can't tell him that and he'll never believe otherwise.  This cycle has been going on for at least 20 years.

He's very sporadic, so sometimes he's married and sometimes he's engaged and sometimes he's just got a girlfriend.  Hell, at times he's got one of each.  Being a recent divorcee, I break his ass down and tell him how it's wrong for him to be cheating!  He doesn't get it and my rant is met with smiles.  He laughs and partially understands. That lecturing session is short lived.  He moves on to talk about his sons, who over time have included - Michael Jackson, Bow Wow, Usher, and R. Kelly, just to name a few.  Oh, I forgot to mention, he has a speech glitch, so sometimes it's really hard to understand him and I'll look to his mom, my aunt, for translation.  Anyway, last weekend at our family reunion, he was talking about his upcoming move to a three story townhouse on the 26th.  Whilst soliciting even more help from our NC family, he brought up, yet another son. When I asked him to repeat the name, my sister chimed in with her translation.  I swear, I choked when she repeated his son's name - JUSTIN BIEBER!!!  I fucking hollered.  My boo is current and keeps up with the times, huh?  It really was the funniest shit.

Seriously, this is just ONE example.  Imagine always having him around to lighten the mood.  During birthdays, reunions, and deaths, he adds a smile when there might not have been one and a laugh when we didn't think it was possible.  He probably will never know or understand his impact, but I hope he can feel the love - somehow.

I heart Durrell.

UPDATE...he we are!