Otis Monkeying Around

I swear I admit that I'm "that chick" with the annoying and adorable dog.  I just love Otis Dexter Bailey (aka ODB) Coleman.  I do.  The connection I have with him is deep and real.  See, he wasn't my dog from my married life.  No.  I had another dog.  I've blogged about her before in my, now defunct blog.  I got Chelsea Marie Coleman after a few years of begging my ex-husband to let me get a dog.  Be clear that he got me her, but she was NOT what I wanted.  I've always craved a dog, well, like Otis.  Instead, he got me Chelsea, the Queen of England's dog, a Pembroke Welsch Corgi.  I was so happy, I really didn't give two fucks.  That was until I discovered that she was one the TOP SHEDDING BREEDS of dogs!!!!  I couldn't keep up with her.  Her hair was everywhere.  And though she was smart as fuck and perfect, the hair drove me bananas.  I taught her how to speak (yes, I'd say speak and she'd howl!!!!!) and roll over and sit and stay and come and all of that good shit.  She was the absolute perfect dog, but again, she was NOT what I wanted.  So, when my marriage came to the most dramatic and cliche demise, I let her go.  My kids, who were also a product of my marriage, were indispensable, but somehow she, Chelsea, was.  Shortly after being bought out of my half of the house and moving into the most expensive rental in PG County, I got rid of her.  I put together a great little ad and sent her picture around to my fellow dog lover co-workers.  Within 24 hours, I had a hit.  My co-worker, who had 2 other dogs, fell in love with Chelsea's bio and pics.  The next thing you know, we were doing house visits and Chelsea was on her way to her new family.  Simultaneously, I was online looking for cute, purse sized dogs and I found a Schnoodle breeder in Silver Spring, Maryland and gagged.  I saw Otis online and fell in love.  I went to visit him and fell all the way in love.  To date, I haven't stopped.

Otis was my divorce dog.  He was my new beginning.  He was my carry-on.  He was my ride or die.  And though he's waaaaaaay too clingy now, I get why.  I'd just left my husband and changed my kids' futures.  When I'd come home after work and crawl into the bed, without fixing dinner or settling in, Otis would be by my side.  He'd be by my side peering up at me with that damn eyes.  He heeled me and so I happily admit that I'm that chick, because without my Pooter, I wouldn't be. That's it.  I wouldn't be.

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Reb'l Fleur

Easter was this weekend.  I don't celebrate it, which has nothing to do my Buddhism.  Way before I became Buddhist, or a Buddhist - however you wanna say it, I didn't celebrate it.  I can remember taking the kids to church a time or two, but it was for the most *shallowistic reasons.  I actually loved how cute my babies looked in countless layers of tule and Steve Harvey-esque suits, with matching "alligator" shoes!  Easter, for me, it was an occasion to get dressy.  I do know some of the basics about Easter and what it represents. In my Buddha world a lil something something happened on Sunday.  I can't even call it.  I guess my faith was resurrected and rejuvenated too.  I hadn't been chanting much and found myself casually mumbling "nam myoho renge kyo" as though it were an after thought.  There were always things I'd have in mind, stuff like where I want to be professionally, physically and of course romantically.  As a girl, and I'm such one, we seem to be stuck in the place where we want to high-five and or middle-finger love.  We'd much rather the former, but the latter is more acceptable. When we openly profess that we want to be all up in it, we get the gas face and unsolicited cautionary tales of good boys gone bad. When it's schmeared with fear, who the fuck in their right mind would want it? Well if loving is wrong, I don't wanna be write.           

*inside joke

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Call Waiting *(NSFW)

I know, I know.  I'm picky as fuck.  That's what you might think, but I don't agree.  Spoiled?  Nah, only my father does that. What adjective or compilation of clever words can I use to describe what I'm saying, without blurting it out?  Ef it.  I can't.  I'll just say it.  I hate to be put on hold!  Nooooo, that's not it.  I hate when I'm talking to someone and they say "I'll call you back."  I'm not spoiled.  I'm NOT.  Fine.  Maybe I was in this regard.  You see, my ex (boyfriend, not hubby) is a talker.  That sucka could go on and on and on and on and I loved him for it.  I gets my talk and listen on and we complemented each other in that way. He was indeed, the best friend a girl could have.  Because he was my primary goto phone buddy, our conversations were rarely interrupted.  In hindsight, I'm sure a slew of chicks were calling his ass and he didn't answer, but nevertheless on those very rare moments, he'd put me on hold and even fewer times he'd end our call.  He is the exception.  I have to tell and remind myself, sometimes.  Still, I don't think it's "fair."  Like, when the fuck do I get upgraded to "I'll call you back" status, because "Tiff's on the other line"?  I'm serious!?!

My best friend Sabs, for example, is notorious for this shit.  No lie.  We could be mid-sentence, story even, and she will roll me the fuck out in an instant and mumbles her exit.  The hold will be abrupt, but pales in comparison to her "lemmecallyouback" slur.  I hate her.

She's not alone though.

Am I the only person who doesn't find a call from my mom as dire and a necessity?  No diss, there's much love but we ain't talkin' 'bout shit important.  We ain't!  What she ate for lunch or I'm telling her something the kids did, but uh that's it.  Even when I was boo'd up or married, my guy's beep didn't mean the end of a conversation.  It just didn't.  Perhaps it should have, LOL?  Nah, a few missed calls couldn't have saved our relationship.  I'm just saying,  that shit irks my nerves, buttttt it's getting better.  I expect it and so it doesn't bother me as much as it used to, despite this post.  'Sides, texting has been my remedy and it works.

*not safe for work label only because the cursometer is high, ha.

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Mission Possible

I tell ya, I never envisioned myself one to participate in or need the assistance of a Life Coach, but I do.  We all do, in my opinion.  The presence of one doesn't have negative connotations.  It means you're all about improving your life space.  I see nothing wrong with it.  Day 6 of my 31 Day Reset Program calls for me to put together a mission statement, based on the values I've identified as being most important to me in Day 5.  I kept this to myself, but am sharing my mission statement.  P.S. I'm actually hella late on my other days, but this program is important for me to complete, so I'm playing catch up today.

Thanks for reading...

"My life will always be meaningful, because honesty is my highest value.  I will strive to incorporate authenticity and truthfulness in everything that I do, say, and become.  I hope to be an example for my family, friends, enemies, and strangers.  With sincerity and financial responsibility, I will secure my children's futures.  I will give love and accept it, like I've never been hurt.  I will dance and sing and travel with him.  Like a lotus flower, I will fearlessly blossom.  I will shamelessly share my Buddhism and become a Bodhisattva. Through my spirituality, I will conquer fear and I will win.  I will win."  

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You've Been Warned

Earlier today, I received this email, from my mother, addressed to me, my sister, and my Uncle (her brother).  


"Good morning, just wanted to let you know that someone at my job's Facebook account was hacked into. The person was sending emails to her Facebook friends and saying they had won some money and all they had to do was send money for the taxes and they would get the money they won. Also there was another person's account at my job whose account was hacked into, and so they sent out some pictures of them to their friends and some spam email. So the bottom line is be careful of what is on your account and email, and check out things first that come your way. Tiffanie please let grandson know about this also, and anyone else you want to inform.


Love ya!"


Now, tell me you didn't smile and or laugh and or shake your head when you read this.  It's not possible, at least it wasn't for me.  My morning's start was craptastical, so imagine the instant joy I felt working its way through my mouse finger to turning my frown upside down.  This sweet, naive, gem did that.  I think I read it about 3 times, before I picked up the phone to call my mom.  That conversation went a little something like this:
---


Hi mommy!  I got your email.  


You did?  Okay, I'm glad.  I wasn't sure if it sent.  Well, anyway ain't that something?  


What?


That somebody hacked into my co-worker's account and asked for money.  You have to be careful.


I'm confused.


They hacked into her account and sent emails to a lot of people saying that they had won some money and all they had to do was pay for the taxes on the money and then they would get the winnings.  So she went all the way down to some place and wired the money.  When my other co-worker got in today she asked her if she got the money she sent her over the weekend.  She was like "I don't know what you're talking about."  Well they figured it out that it was spam and she went back to the email to show her.  It's crazy. You can't trust people and you have to be careful.  I'm just saying that you double check things or pick up the phone and ask and confirm before you do something.  Well, I know you wouldn't do that, but I wanted to spread it, just in case.  Oh, and the other one said someone broke into his account and sent very graphic types of pictures to his FaceBook friends and put it on their sites and stuff.  


Oh wow, okay.  I get spam emails all of the time and I just ignore them.  


Good!
---


We swapped a few more comments about how silly and unfortunate it was that her co-worker lost money, that she didn't really have.  Desperate times calls for desperate measures, huh? I absolutely loved this exchange, because it was so sincere.  



  

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