I enjoyed an exhilarating run this evening after work - one of those runs where I actually got "in the zone" and felt true mental clarity I seem to only achieve while running (note to self: install a treadmill in office at work).
I ran on a paved trail less than two miles from my house. It is one of my usual running spots because I can stop there on my way home from work to get a run in and because it is so close to home.
On the post-run drive home, I followed a beaten up Buick down a narrow city road. We stopped at a red light. The light turned green but the Buick didn't budge.
In my neighborhood this could mean a number of things, including but not limited to: the car stalling out at the light because the car is such a piece; a broken turn signal because the car is such a piece; operator error because the driver is drunk or high (this is my neighborhood, after all). Irritated that we were just sitting at a green light - and suspecting the beaten Buick intended to turn left but the driver just didn't feel like using a turn signal - I beeped my horn.
What happened next was surreal.
As the horn blew, a tiny brown hand emerged in the back window. Clearly the hand of a toddler in a car seat. Then, the tiny middle finger slowly unfolded.
I had a flash of Mini Me giving Austin Powers the finger.
This was even worse. Because it was a toddler.
Yes, I was flipped off by a toddler.
Nothing says welcome to my neighborhood like being flipped off by a kid in a car seat.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
You and I ( You, you and I)
We.
Single girls only use that term when talking about hanging out with their girlfriends. The term "we" is rarely used in mundane but oh-so grown up phrases such as, "We went to church and then the grocery store" or "We cooked a wonderful dinner, ate and did the dishes."
For a short period of time one of my single friends thought she could be a "we."
Why you ask? Well, she thought she had a parasite.
Turns out she doesn't, but she got the news after she went ahead and named it.
We had a lot of fun talking about all the things she and her parasite could have done together, turning her from a "me" to a "we."
Personally, I'm sad I have no excuse to write her a poem I planned to title "My Parasite and Me."
Ho hum. Better luck next time.
Single girls only use that term when talking about hanging out with their girlfriends. The term "we" is rarely used in mundane but oh-so grown up phrases such as, "We went to church and then the grocery store" or "We cooked a wonderful dinner, ate and did the dishes."
For a short period of time one of my single friends thought she could be a "we."
Why you ask? Well, she thought she had a parasite.
Turns out she doesn't, but she got the news after she went ahead and named it.
We had a lot of fun talking about all the things she and her parasite could have done together, turning her from a "me" to a "we."
Personally, I'm sad I have no excuse to write her a poem I planned to title "My Parasite and Me."
Ho hum. Better luck next time.
Monday, March 19, 2012
I call it a toilet, you call it a fountain
To-mato, tom-ato, po-tato, pot-tato...toilet, fountain?
A couple of weeks ago I walked the 'hood looking for potential housing violations. Ok, I was actually walking to the local pub to meet a friend for a beer but it was a great excuse to look for housing violations.
I found one that I thought was a real zinger, too: A home with a toilet and a sink in the front yard.
Gross, right?
In retrospect, the toilet and sink seemed strategically placed but, really, who would purposely have a toilet and a sink in their front yard?
Someone in my neighborhood, of course.
Tonight at my neighborhood association meeting my community organizer informed me she filed the report of the toilet and sink to the city. When they investigated they discovered the toilet and sink are a fountain.
Yes, a fountain.
Someone apparently had the brilliant idea to say, "Hey, I know what I'll do with this old sink and toilet, I'll turn it into a fountain system because it will look lovely as a permanent fixture in my front yard!"
And, the kicker? I know, you're wondering how this could get any better. The kicker: It has been there for eight years.
Eight years.
And I'm the first person to complain about it.
And, since these items are "a fountain" they can stay.
A couple of weeks ago I walked the 'hood looking for potential housing violations. Ok, I was actually walking to the local pub to meet a friend for a beer but it was a great excuse to look for housing violations.
I found one that I thought was a real zinger, too: A home with a toilet and a sink in the front yard.
Gross, right?
In retrospect, the toilet and sink seemed strategically placed but, really, who would purposely have a toilet and a sink in their front yard?
Someone in my neighborhood, of course.
Tonight at my neighborhood association meeting my community organizer informed me she filed the report of the toilet and sink to the city. When they investigated they discovered the toilet and sink are a fountain.
Yes, a fountain.
Someone apparently had the brilliant idea to say, "Hey, I know what I'll do with this old sink and toilet, I'll turn it into a fountain system because it will look lovely as a permanent fixture in my front yard!"
And, the kicker? I know, you're wondering how this could get any better. The kicker: It has been there for eight years.
Eight years.
And I'm the first person to complain about it.
And, since these items are "a fountain" they can stay.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Lay off that whiskey and let that cocaine be (another day at Family Pantry)
Spring arrived in the 'hood today! The warm weather wasn't the only indication - the other indication was the fact that the streets were crawling with 'hood rats as I made my way home. I knew I needed to get a run in today and had a gut feeling any run through my neighborhood would be nothing short of an action-packed adventure. After all, the warm weather always brings out the freaks.
Toward the end of my run a Michigan State Police SUV flew through a stop sign and I knew something was up. I know my 'hood well so I knew exactly where he was heading - the Family Pantry. Family Pantry is this really trashy "convenience" store in my neighborhood where you can get your smokes, Jack Daniels and lottery tickets with your Bridge card. For your convenience you can also buy crack here. Quite possibly with your Bridge card. Yes, it is crack central. Every week my crime report shows an arrest (or two) for selling crack in the parking lot. After awhile you would think the drug dealers would "get it" but, alas, they don't (perhaps they are smoking too much crack themselves).
As I turned the corner near the Family Pantry, sure enough
Not just the city police - the state police had descended upon the Family Pantry. This is serious, right? Of course, I had to walk by for a closer look.
Toward the end of my run a Michigan State Police SUV flew through a stop sign and I knew something was up. I know my 'hood well so I knew exactly where he was heading - the Family Pantry. Family Pantry is this really trashy "convenience" store in my neighborhood where you can get your smokes, Jack Daniels and lottery tickets with your Bridge card. For your convenience you can also buy crack here. Quite possibly with your Bridge card. Yes, it is crack central. Every week my crime report shows an arrest (or two) for selling crack in the parking lot. After awhile you would think the drug dealers would "get it" but, alas, they don't (perhaps they are smoking too much crack themselves).
As I turned the corner near the Family Pantry, sure enough
All these crazy people were still there mulling around in the parking lot, while an officer slapped a purple latex glove on his hand and another stood there in a bullet proof vest scanning the crowd. Purple glove was searching this tan car owned by this woman -
Yes, that is her and her CHILDREN. And she's sporting a shirt that says "Vagina is for Lovers." Yes, "Vagina" not "Virginia."
Nothing but class here in my neighborhood. Of course, I was helping to "class up" the joint as I stood across the street from this scene snapping photos and giggling like a school girl looking at a Ryan Reynolds calendar.
As I nearly tripped on an empty Five O'Clock Vodka bottle on the sidewalk I simply smiled. After a long day in Indiana, it sure felt great to be home!
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Shanequa dont live here no mo' (It's a party in the USA)
Last May I found a special surprise is my backyard. Yes, it was made of latex and contained DNA.
However, today it's a party in the USA (or just the 'hood) because my trashy neighbors are gone! I spotted the them sort of packing up some things last week but didn't want to get my hopes up. However, today my suspicions were confirmed - they are gone! The newspaper they used for curtains (no joke) is torn down, the mail is overflowing out of the mailbox and a Wal-Mart quality entertainment center has been abandoned on the front porch.
The condom tossers have left the building (or the block)!
So yes, things are looking good. One set of trashy neighbors gone..."My 600lb Life" has come to an end, therefore, my exercise is back to normal rather than compulsive...no Kate Spade sales (but Banana Republic had 50 percent off on Oscar Sunday - win one for Devil Jen)...and the mild weather has allowed me to walk the neighborhood more and, therefore, report lots of housing violations (couches on lawns, wood in place of windows, etc.). Hey - someone has to put the smack down here in the 'hood. Just wait because my "mobile watch" starts back up in two months - I can't wait to cruise the neighborhood from midnight to 3 a.m. with my fellow honorary crime fighters, including my favorite gun-toting octogenarian Gerri, the clerk at my local Walgreen's!
On a side note - someone asked if I'm still watching "General Hospital" on You Tube and the (sad) answer is yes. I'm on part 436...just 381 clips to go. Sadly, I think it is all downhill for my favorite super couple from here on out but I must stick with the storyline. I've invested (wasted) too much time! However, I really need to put an end to this because just the other weekend I used a 1989 GH reference in conversation like the other person should know what I was talking about. We were at a downtown breakfast spot, I paid with a 20 dollar bill and the cashier marked it with a pen to ensure it was legit. As this was happening, I turned to my friend and said, "Just like Jimmy and the phony 20s." As she made the "what the hell are you talking about" face I realized my faux pas and had to explain I had just made a 23 year old soap opera reference. Welcome to loserville, population one - me!
However, today it's a party in the USA (or just the 'hood) because my trashy neighbors are gone! I spotted the them sort of packing up some things last week but didn't want to get my hopes up. However, today my suspicions were confirmed - they are gone! The newspaper they used for curtains (no joke) is torn down, the mail is overflowing out of the mailbox and a Wal-Mart quality entertainment center has been abandoned on the front porch.
The condom tossers have left the building (or the block)!
So yes, things are looking good. One set of trashy neighbors gone..."My 600lb Life" has come to an end, therefore, my exercise is back to normal rather than compulsive...no Kate Spade sales (but Banana Republic had 50 percent off on Oscar Sunday - win one for Devil Jen)...and the mild weather has allowed me to walk the neighborhood more and, therefore, report lots of housing violations (couches on lawns, wood in place of windows, etc.). Hey - someone has to put the smack down here in the 'hood. Just wait because my "mobile watch" starts back up in two months - I can't wait to cruise the neighborhood from midnight to 3 a.m. with my fellow honorary crime fighters, including my favorite gun-toting octogenarian Gerri, the clerk at my local Walgreen's!
On a side note - someone asked if I'm still watching "General Hospital" on You Tube and the (sad) answer is yes. I'm on part 436...just 381 clips to go. Sadly, I think it is all downhill for my favorite super couple from here on out but I must stick with the storyline. I've invested (wasted) too much time! However, I really need to put an end to this because just the other weekend I used a 1989 GH reference in conversation like the other person should know what I was talking about. We were at a downtown breakfast spot, I paid with a 20 dollar bill and the cashier marked it with a pen to ensure it was legit. As this was happening, I turned to my friend and said, "Just like Jimmy and the phony 20s." As she made the "what the hell are you talking about" face I realized my faux pas and had to explain I had just made a 23 year old soap opera reference. Welcome to loserville, population one - me!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Why I love Twitter
I love Twitter.
I use Twitter to keep up with news, entertainment and pop culture. For example, the other night it was fun reading Tweets from all over during the Oscars - it made watching the Oscars fun ('cause Billy Crystal was a total bore. Seriously, this is not 1989!).
My favorite thing to do on Twitter is follow celebrities. I am NOT one of those people who asks celebs to "RT" (a "retweet" for those of you not hip to Twitter lingo. Or as my friend Rachael would call it, The Twitter). Those people are just dumb. And I never understand why celebs do it. For example, "Hey Cher, it's Monday, can I get a RT?" and she actually RTs. If I were Cher I would say, "Get a life" but clearly Cher is much nicer than I.
I rarely Tweet at celebrities either because I am sure tons of people Tweet at them all the time. However, I did Tweet at Kathy Griffin during the Oscars (poor thing was in the hospital, supposedly with bird flu?!?) because she Tweeted something about the show being boring. I responded saying she would be a fun host. No response, though I'm sure she totally agreed with me.
I follow my favorite author ( and long lost sister...seriously, she is like the Republican version of me) Jen Lancaster on Twitter. Now, since I feel like Jen is my BFF (Dear Jen, please be my BFF. -Jen), I often reply to her Tweets and always hope she'll respond. No luck yet though she does, indeed FOLLOW me on Twitter. Yep, that was a big day in my life (sad).
In other words, when it comes to celebrities I don't follow the former Mr. Demi Moore (Ashton...nor Bruce Willis come to think of it), Kim Kardashian (or as my dad calls her Kim Kevorkian, you know, as in Jack "Dr. Death" Kevorkian) or anyone like that. Just "normal" celebrities or people I think are celebrities.
Case and point? Remember late last year when I geeked out about seeing Wilson Phillips in concert? Love them! They were my favorite music group in the 8th and 9th grades. Anyway, they are all on Twitter and I follow them all (of course). Tonight Wendy Wilson Tweeted me. Seriously. She Tweeted earlier this week about how they are working on a new album, so I responded and asked when it is coming out. She just wrote me back (answer is April). How cool is that? I suppose you had to know me back in the day to understand how happy my inner 14 year old is right now (my friend Karen will totally get this).
Sometimes I think social media is undoing the fabric of our society. O.K., I suppose I feel that way about Facebook ( even though I use it daily). However, with Twitter, you only get a few characters. You have to keep it short. There's not as much drama (remember vaguebooking?). You can just share a little. So I get why celebrities, quasi-celebrities and wannabe celebrities like Twitter. You can connected just enough without having to share too much (unless you are Demi and Ashton because I hear they used to Tweet photos of themselves in bed. Gross).
Side note:I'm waiting for the day Beyonce starts Tweeting. Wiggy will probably quit her job to become a full time Twitter-er/Beyonce stalker.
I'll stick with my more relatable celebrities in the mean time. And will keep hoping Jen Lancaster will Tweet me back someday. And then we'll become BFFs. I also keep hoping Kate Spade (the person, not the company - the company has RTed my Kate mentions on several occasions. Frequent customer) joins Twitter. Because she should be my other BFF. Just imagine how many purses I would own then....
I use Twitter to keep up with news, entertainment and pop culture. For example, the other night it was fun reading Tweets from all over during the Oscars - it made watching the Oscars fun ('cause Billy Crystal was a total bore. Seriously, this is not 1989!).
My favorite thing to do on Twitter is follow celebrities. I am NOT one of those people who asks celebs to "RT" (a "retweet" for those of you not hip to Twitter lingo. Or as my friend Rachael would call it, The Twitter). Those people are just dumb. And I never understand why celebs do it. For example, "Hey Cher, it's Monday, can I get a RT?" and she actually RTs. If I were Cher I would say, "Get a life" but clearly Cher is much nicer than I.
I rarely Tweet at celebrities either because I am sure tons of people Tweet at them all the time. However, I did Tweet at Kathy Griffin during the Oscars (poor thing was in the hospital, supposedly with bird flu?!?) because she Tweeted something about the show being boring. I responded saying she would be a fun host. No response, though I'm sure she totally agreed with me.
I follow my favorite author ( and long lost sister...seriously, she is like the Republican version of me) Jen Lancaster on Twitter. Now, since I feel like Jen is my BFF (Dear Jen, please be my BFF. -Jen), I often reply to her Tweets and always hope she'll respond. No luck yet though she does, indeed FOLLOW me on Twitter. Yep, that was a big day in my life (sad).
In other words, when it comes to celebrities I don't follow the former Mr. Demi Moore (Ashton...nor Bruce Willis come to think of it), Kim Kardashian (or as my dad calls her Kim Kevorkian, you know, as in Jack "Dr. Death" Kevorkian) or anyone like that. Just "normal" celebrities or people I think are celebrities.
Case and point? Remember late last year when I geeked out about seeing Wilson Phillips in concert? Love them! They were my favorite music group in the 8th and 9th grades. Anyway, they are all on Twitter and I follow them all (of course). Tonight Wendy Wilson Tweeted me. Seriously. She Tweeted earlier this week about how they are working on a new album, so I responded and asked when it is coming out. She just wrote me back (answer is April). How cool is that? I suppose you had to know me back in the day to understand how happy my inner 14 year old is right now (my friend Karen will totally get this).
Sometimes I think social media is undoing the fabric of our society. O.K., I suppose I feel that way about Facebook ( even though I use it daily). However, with Twitter, you only get a few characters. You have to keep it short. There's not as much drama (remember vaguebooking?). You can just share a little. So I get why celebrities, quasi-celebrities and wannabe celebrities like Twitter. You can connected just enough without having to share too much (unless you are Demi and Ashton because I hear they used to Tweet photos of themselves in bed. Gross).
Side note:I'm waiting for the day Beyonce starts Tweeting. Wiggy will probably quit her job to become a full time Twitter-er/Beyonce stalker.
I'll stick with my more relatable celebrities in the mean time. And will keep hoping Jen Lancaster will Tweet me back someday. And then we'll become BFFs. I also keep hoping Kate Spade (the person, not the company - the company has RTed my Kate mentions on several occasions. Frequent customer) joins Twitter. Because she should be my other BFF. Just imagine how many purses I would own then....
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
My funny Valentine (and crack is still whack)
My Valentine.
My Valentine makes me feel wonderful. Like I'm dancing on a cloud. Like ooh, heaven is a place on earth.
My Valentine makes my heart flutter. I'm dizzy - dizzy because of the effect my Valentine has on me. I'm even a little weak in the knees.
My Valentine and I are currently together at a Hampton Inn. I should sleep well tonight with my Valentine in my life.
My Valentine? My Valentine's name is Flexeril. Yes, Flexeril's love is my drug. No, no, Flexeril is my drug (to sort of quote Ke$ha).
Yes, my Valentine is a prescription drug. (You thought Flexeril was a silly name for a man, didn't you?).
Just when I couldn't sink any lower on this damn holiday, here I am.
At some point in time this week I did something to my back. Perhaps a I pulled a muscle running, Yoga Booty Balleting or opening my really old and sort of broken garage door. Frankly, I'm not sure what happened but last night I tossed and turned in pain, unable to get comfortable.
This is a week of much travel for me - beginning with meetings at an office about an hour away (where, thanks to the holiday, there were cupcakes GALORE. However, unlike at my office, these cupcakes were for sale for a fundraiser and, therefore, I deemed it ok) today and tomorrow, followed by a trip to my (least) favorite city, Indianapolis, on the books for tomorrow after work.
Anyway, on the drive this morning my back started to spasm. We're talking couldn't breathe-almost-passed-out-thought-I-was-gonna-crash-the-car-awful-pain. I made it through four morning meetings (at one point I was literally triple booked) and then motored on over to urgent care.
The diagnosis? Back spasms (imagine that). The treatment? Flexeril, Mobic and rest (oops on the rest part - after popping the drugs I felt so great I hit the elliptical for an hour. Blame it on the cupcake I bought. Yes, I caved today).
I've experienced Flexeril before and know what it does - it totally makes me high.
So here I am - high on not love on this Valentine's Day but on Flexeril.
And even though the doc told me heat is good for my back, I learned a valuable lesson from Whitney Houston this weekend. Don't get high and then get in a hotel bathtub.
It's just a bad idea (R.I.P. Whitney).
Crack may be whack, but Flexeril is phenomen-il!
My Valentine makes me feel wonderful. Like I'm dancing on a cloud. Like ooh, heaven is a place on earth.
My Valentine makes my heart flutter. I'm dizzy - dizzy because of the effect my Valentine has on me. I'm even a little weak in the knees.
My Valentine and I are currently together at a Hampton Inn. I should sleep well tonight with my Valentine in my life.
My Valentine? My Valentine's name is Flexeril. Yes, Flexeril's love is my drug. No, no, Flexeril is my drug (to sort of quote Ke$ha).
Yes, my Valentine is a prescription drug. (You thought Flexeril was a silly name for a man, didn't you?).
Just when I couldn't sink any lower on this damn holiday, here I am.
At some point in time this week I did something to my back. Perhaps a I pulled a muscle running, Yoga Booty Balleting or opening my really old and sort of broken garage door. Frankly, I'm not sure what happened but last night I tossed and turned in pain, unable to get comfortable.
This is a week of much travel for me - beginning with meetings at an office about an hour away (where, thanks to the holiday, there were cupcakes GALORE. However, unlike at my office, these cupcakes were for sale for a fundraiser and, therefore, I deemed it ok) today and tomorrow, followed by a trip to my (least) favorite city, Indianapolis, on the books for tomorrow after work.
Anyway, on the drive this morning my back started to spasm. We're talking couldn't breathe-almost-passed-out-thought-I-was-gonna-crash-the-car-awful-pain. I made it through four morning meetings (at one point I was literally triple booked) and then motored on over to urgent care.
The diagnosis? Back spasms (imagine that). The treatment? Flexeril, Mobic and rest (oops on the rest part - after popping the drugs I felt so great I hit the elliptical for an hour. Blame it on the cupcake I bought. Yes, I caved today).
I've experienced Flexeril before and know what it does - it totally makes me high.
So here I am - high on not love on this Valentine's Day but on Flexeril.
And even though the doc told me heat is good for my back, I learned a valuable lesson from Whitney Houston this weekend. Don't get high and then get in a hotel bathtub.
It's just a bad idea (R.I.P. Whitney).
Crack may be whack, but Flexeril is phenomen-il!
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