A cushion for my tushie

Tell me why I adore this chair.

I've been looking at furniture for the past few weeks. For Christmas, the BF said he'll buy me a chair, since I've been feening for one for forever. So I've been looking. But it's not as simple as it would seem.

My criteria is simple enough. I need it to be a cushiony, yet sleek chair, with cushioned arms and a seat big enough for me to curl up in. I'd prefer a funky color or print to liven up my living room as well.

Apparently, that's a tall order. And all the chairs I find that I really like -- are super expensive. Like the Madison Armchair at Pottery Barn. $1,199? Did somebody forget to tell PB that it's a recession?

I could also go for this Astrid chair at Anthropologie. That, my friends, is a chair. But at $749 ON SALE, that, my friends, is not the chair for me. That's more than I paid for my couch!

But a girl can fawn, can't she?

I'll be honest. This post hurts. I haven't looked at my goals since I wrote them in January. As a result, some of them kinda fell by the wayside. Okay, a lot of them did. Here's how I did on the goals I'd set for myself -- with some excuses, disclaimers and other flim flam to get me off the hook.

• Begin healthy habits -- better eating, exercise and sleep -- I've been eating semi-healthfully, but not nearly as good as I could be. Sleep and exercise? Ha! I'm going to start my Pilates and Yoga again to help out with some back pain I've been experiencing, though
• Save 3 to 6 months worth of salary -- So, I had a good chunk of change saved up. But some emergencies and tough times made me have to tap the reserves. I'm slowly rebuilding my nest egg. BUT, I have recently started a high-interest savings account so, hopefully, this will go quickly.
  
• Pay off credit card debt -- Alright, so it's not completely paid off, but I've made a SERIOUS dent in my credit card debt. I've been doing automatic contributions every month -- and more recently every other week -- to keep paying it down.
  
• Write a project story at work -- I did one, but it was rushed. So I'm not going to count it. Only quality work goes toward the marking off of the list!
• Win -- or write something that could -- a RI Press Award -- DONE! Okay, so technically, the work was done last year, but I got the awards this year. GET AT ME!
  
• Read my Bible and pray regularly
• Take a class at a university
• Keep my car clean
• Organize work and life better -- I think I did okay with this. I began using Outlook to organize my sources (I HIGHLY recommend it) and began using the calendar to help me keep dates in mind. I also still use my paper calendar, and I do a lot of things online to keep my personal finances and other dealings in order
• Call old friends more often and keep in touch
• Improve my Spanish
• Travel internationally -- plans are for it to happen this fall. Spain is on the agenda.
  
• Be more in control of my feelings and work on communicating effectively
• Do more cultural and unexpected things
• Build more friendships
• Buy more staples to round out my wardrobe -- and work on accent pieces -- I cleaned out my closet to give myself room to buy more good clothes. I've bought a few pieces, gotten a lot of great pairs of pants tailored, and scored an amazing pair of boots. But it's a recession; so I haven't had the opportunity to buy as much as I'd like. I did get some great cardigans from Old Navy and a fantastic corduroy blazer from H&M. I still need a good wool coat though...
  
• Read at least six good books this year -- Eh, I started a few. And I began reading a few anthologies. Toure. Best Crime Writing. I finished "When You are Engulfed In Flames" by David Sedaris.
  
• Read the news daily -- I'm getting better. Not every day, not every story, but I'm knowledgeable.
• Have fun writing and craft interesting stories -- I've been trying.
  
• Visit home more often
• Keep clips up and network; send update mailings four times a year -- I've sent out a few packets, and I networked it up in Chicago. I even got offered a job in Va., but it wasn't for me. Haven't been super diligent about sending mailings otherwise because I haven't written anything spectacular. Besides, ain't nobody hiring anyway.
  
• Do more multimedia work
• Apply and go on some workshops for work -- Indeed! I got to go to NABJ in Chicago for free through a scholarship, went to a workshop for new court reporters in Nevada, and I went to the Nieman Conference in March at Harvard. I think this one is a big, fat check.
• Keep house clean and presentable always -- Yeah. Right now, my house is a mess. I gotta clean it before the New Year though
• Cook more healthy, interesting, tasty food. -- Not always tasty, but I've been trying new foods from time to time. I'm still looking for someone to go for sushi with me (oh, sushi, how I miss thee!). I've also been cooking more healthful foods thanks to Patti LaBelle. Her Pork chop recipe is out of sight! I highly recommend it. Let me know and I'll e-mail you the recipe!
  

Whatchu tryin to say?

I settle into the chair and look up at the thread stylist. My sister has disappeared into the bathroom and her boo is in the waiting chair behind me. I smile at the stylist.

Me: I just want it to be cleaned up. I still want them to stay a little thick.
Her: No problem, you'll be fine.
Me: Okay.

Just before she puts the thread in her mouth, she says:

"Lip too or just eyebrows?"

My stomach flinches. Is it that bad?

Me: "Nah, just eyebrows."

Oh, Christmas Tree

I was going to put up a tree this year. I promise I was.

I went to Target and bought a thrifty artificial one -- that is still in the box on my living room floor.

I have ornaments, including the ones Jessie and I exchange each year.

But, with less than a week to go before Christmas, and me literally days away from traveling to NYC to visit my sister, I realized it wasn't worth it. Plus, all the presents I had so lovingly wrapped for friends and family were shipped off (at the cost of $50!) or otherwise delivered last week.

So again, what's the point?

Thankfully, the BF and his roommate, the Magic man, were decorating their tannenbaum and allowed me to join them. See the Christmas pin in full effect??

We decked Magic's 7 foot tree. His reasoning for getting such a large tree? "If you're taller than your tree, it's a Charlie Brown tree."

I disagree, obviously.

We strung the lights and hung the bulbs all while the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory played in the living room. (Aside, have you seen that movie? Gene Wilder, though not as disturbing as Johnny Depp in the remake, is pretty peculiar. And the oompa loompas? Absolutely fantastic.)

We had to make sure we broke out the tinsel and fake snow, Gigli was in the house.

We'd hung all the bulbs and admired our work. All that was left, was to hang the star. But being that Greg got the most ginormous tree he could find, there were some technical difficulties.

Four hands were able to finally get the star in it's rightful place. Just when we thought we were done...

The candy canes!

Greg and I hung the peppermint treats high enough to keep out of Deuce's hungry grasp.

Here's the final result:

Merry Christmas, indeed.

I *heart* Jessie Bonner

Jessie and I send each other Christmas presents every year.

It kinda started during our first Christmases as working adults. Jessie came to RI to spend the holiday and we had the Bestest Christmas ever.

That year, we started the tradition of sharing an ornament. Each year, we alternate sending an ornament to the other person, and keeping an identical one for ourselves.

Anyway, last year, Jessie decided to start a new tradition it seems (let's pray it's not though). She gets me Christmas pins.

Yes. Those tacky, red and green, light up, shiny, glittery, Christmas pins that pop up this time of year. Last year's pin was kinda classy.


I got my Christmas pin from her for this year, today.


Yes, that is a transgendered snowman/woman in a tulle skirt with heels, purse and a hat. You see it right.

As is custom, I put the pin on as soon as I ripped it from it's packaging. I'll be wearing it all day today, and probably at any Christmas themed function (such as decking G.Lee's tree) I attend. Oh, the pin will be in full effect.

So, Jessie's gift reminded me that presents are fun. Like, I always laugh when I get something from her. And I love that. She sent me this the weekend of her birthday. Yes, she gave me something on her birthday! And I love it.

You see the potatoes this man is packing? I heart him, too.

Anyway, I gotta get back to work, but I just wanted to post a quick ode to Jessie and her fantastic presents and how great she is. Because she's super fantastic. You should have a friend like Jessie in your life. Promise it'll make yours better.

Special on Aisle 9

So, apparently, people still read this thing.

I talked to a few people this week who said they checked my page during my *ahem* brief hiatus, looking for updated material. (shout out to Louise)

Seems as if they care what's going on in my life.

Well, dang, ya'll. That almost made me shed a tear.

So, without any further adieu, we'll get on with the randomness.

-------

There's something about Supermarkets that soothe me.

I'm not sure if it's the white linoleum, the perfectly lined shelves, or just the opportunity to wander, uninterrupted, for however long I choose to browse, but I love it.

Partially because I'm a lightweight foodie. I've always loved cooking and preparing things to make people happy. Food does that. Makes people happy. Plus, it's relaxing to mix spices, stir soups and fry chicken. Plus you get a great reward at the end.

I think I realized I liked grocery stores probably about a year ago. And that revelation actually came while I was getting the ingredients for some food dish. See, I cook when I'm stressed (or clean, or arrange things -- I like to keep busy). So I'd gone to my local Stop n Shop to pick up some things for an apple pie. After I'd picked through the apples, gotten the spices I needed, and picked up the sugar and flour for the homemade pie crust, I wandered down each aisle, picking up things, or looking for inspiration. By the end of the trip, I'd spent more than two hours in the store. And I didn't feel as if I'd wasted my time. I was relaxed and ready to go.

Funny thing is, my cell phone rarely rings when I'm grocery shopping. And other shoppers don't bother me. So for those hours, it's just me and my thoughts. And the Spaghetti-Os. Not so much that I go there to think, I go there to calm down. When I get stressed or am thinking about something important, sometimes I need to just shut down and think about nothing for a while before I can think clearly about the subject again. The grocery store lets me do that. And I always find something cool on those relaxation trips -- coconut milk, yellow rice, boneless pork chops, shallots, or Newmans Virgin Lemon aided Iced Tea. It's always so worth it.

At least until I get home and I have to unload all of my purchases into my tiny cupboards and my even smaller freezer.

Just thought I'd share.

A quick post

Because someone is getting antsy.

• I went home for Thanksgiving -- my first trip back to Michigan in nearly a year. It was great. I got to spend time with my family and friends and eat all of the foods I can't get in Rhode Island. I got Big John's Steak and Onion, Yaya's Chicken, and even managed to smuggle some Faygo pop and Everfresh fruit punch and Better Made chips in my luggage! Yes!


• While I was home, I got my hair pressed. I feel bad because my hairdresser had to fry my hair to get it straight (i also got a trim while I was home) but it was nice to have the curls back. However, I'm not sure if I want to subject my hair to that kind of treatment on a regular basis. Here's a pic to the right. And don't clown me. I'd just gotten in to Flint and then spent hours in the hairdresser while she tamed my hair. I was tired. And you can see it. *shrug* But my hair is LAID.
• While I was at home, my niece celebrated her 10th birthday (shoutout to Kiera). So the night before, she was playing with her sister, Kyla, who is 3. Here's the exchange:
  Kiera: Kyla, tomorrow is my birthday.
  Kyla: Tomorrow is you birthday?
  Kiera: Yeah
  Kyla: Can I get in the pool with you?
  *Sighs all around* Kyla's birthday is in August, so she thinks everyone can get in the pool on their birthday. Sorry, holmes. It was about 30 degrees on Kiera's birthday. Pool's gonna have to wait about 6 more months.
• I got someone to switch my Christmas night shift with me! That means I get to spend the holiday with my sister (you know, the antsy one?). I'm pretty excited. This will be the second Christmas that I've done without my family. One Christmas I spent with a friend's family and the first Christmas was, well, the Bestest Christmas Ever. This just might have to be the Bestest Christmas Ever: Redux. Because it's going to be serious.

Okay, that's enough for now. I've got to get back to work!

Word on the Street

Is that you need to check this out.

Leave It All Behind

Thank me later.

I got it honest

This one tagged me. (Oh, John McCain, you slay me)


Gotta say I guess I needed it, judging by the sparse posts as of late. Not exactly sure what the award means other than an excuse to post, but whatever.


I'll take it.


Here are the rules:

1.) When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back
2.) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
3.) Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with ‘Honest Weblog’
4.) Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
5.) And then we pass it on!

The way this thing seems to be working lately is that we're posting 10 honest things about yourself. So here goes.

1. Sometimes I wish I had a perm again. I love my natural hair and my afro, but sometimes the styles are limiting. I miss the days of ponytails, sleek wraps and bouncy curls. I'm not considering getting a perm again, but I am strongly thinking about getting a press and curl, just to see how it feels.
2. I'm kinda awkward, and this whole, "reinventing myself/establishing my swagger" thing is kinda weird. So, I've been wearing different types of clothes, putting makeup on every so often, basically trying to keep up appearances. And it gets you attention. I'm not used to that. I'm used to kinda posting in the background and shining on special occasions. Yesterday, I wore my birthday boots, some skinny jeans, a sweater and a blazer to go meet the BF for a movie. I waited for him at the Harvard bookstore and I got approached by this guy who complemented said boots and asked for my number (after coming back three times). It was sweet. He was nice. I said no. And I was self conscious the rest of the night, catching glimpses of my butt in storefront windows. It wasn't like a slutbucket outfit, and I'm comfortable in the pieces separately, but it felt really awkward to put myself out there like that.
3. I don't think that Tyler Perry can ever make a movie that I will like. I just have this unequivocal dislike for him. It's probably unwarranted. I'm sure he's a nice guy. Probably flosses daily and helps old ladies across the street. But here are my problems with Tyler Perry: he makes bad movies and black people support him -- and tell me to support him -- because he's black. Now, full disclosure -- V and Marcus said "The Family that Preys" was pretty good actually. I will never find out of my own free will. If I have my choice, I will go to my grave without seeing another Tyler Perry movie. I saw "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" (on bootleg) and I was ruined forever. I can't deal with the bad acting, the sappy and predictable plots and Tyler Perry in that damn fat suit.
4. I have given exactly one body shot in my life. I was super drunk and volunteered to lay on the ground and have a guy take one out of my chest (I don't really recall how that worked because it seems like it would defy gravity. Details are sketchy. My apologies). The oddest part of the whole thing was looking up and seeing the circle of guys standing above me. Decided at that point, volunteering for anything like that again is probably not a good idea.
5. When I was a little kid, I bit my toenails. I used to sit on the back of the couch with my back against the wall, and bite them while I watched cartoons. I don't know why it started or how long I did it. I just kinda grew out of it at some point, definitely before I started school like talking about. My sister used to make fun of me all the time for doing it.
6. I felt like a loser because it took me a long time to get over my ex from college. It was a bad situation and I had to see him a bunch because we were in college -- ain't but so many people at Hampton. It wasn't until I took a drive to Florida and spent two weeks on a friend's couch that I felt like I was over him (this was about 2 months after we broke up). There, on her floor, I made a mix CD. First one I ever made for a guy. I blasted it all the rest of the way to St. Pete. I still have it and listen to it and kinda feel guilty for liking the CD so much. (And I wasn't super over my ex because I fell for the swindle when I visited for homecoming that year.)
7. I read into simple things a lot. A guy who liked me once gave me a mix CD (because he had a bunch of cool music and I asked him to put me on to some good stuff) and I spent the entire drive to Naples (Florida has LOTS of memories for me) on the phone with my girl analyzing the track list, which included this song "Erotic Dreams" and all these love songs. He was cute, but the songs didn't mean anything. It just caused me a bunch of anxiety needlessly. (In my favor, I'd gone to Ft. Lauderdale to have a date with him [and interview at his paper] and he gave me the CDs then, so I wasn't just making this stuff up out of thin air.)
8. I have a type. I never thought I did. I thought I was an equal opportunity dater. But I'm not. My type tends to be light to brown skinned, short to medium height (5'6" to 5'8"), high cheekbones and/or strong jaw, sweet smile (slight dimples or any quirky things are also a plus), slim yet strong build, and involved someway in the arts (writing, music, dance). It was a revelation. I accept it.
9. I don't keep in contact with many people from Flint mostly because I don't want to be reminded of where I came from. I love Flint and I'm proud to be there, but it's a rough place. And I always feel guilty for getting out and leaving my friends behind. It's hard, sometimes to hear how their lives are going, not be able to do anything about it, and think there, but for the grace of God, go I.
10. Whenever I'm flipping through channels, I kinda hope I'll stumble across The Proud Family Movie, just for this one scene. If I find it, I call my sister immediately so we can watch it together. Here it is:
    
    
    
    Man. That was hard.
    And it just so seems that everyone that I read has either already done this or has been tagged already, so I'll just leave it up to you. If you decide to do it, let me know and I'll come read it. Otherwise, peace out.
    

This is what I get for trying new foods

I've been on a salad kick lately.

Not making them myself -- just buying them when I go out to restaurants. I've been finding that when I get ready to eat, it's not so much beef or chicken that I want, but rather fresh fruits and veggies.

So I try to listen to my body.

Sometimes it works out wonderfully. Like the honey chicken salad at Unos. It has vermicelli pasta and warm chicken tenders. mmmmm. or this new salad with Craisins, pears and nuts, also at Unos.

Well, at work today, I got a little hungry and didn't want the fried goodness of Wendy's. So I stopped at Cheesecake Factory with the full intention of getting an appetizer. (In addition to being on a salad kick, my stomach shrunk recently or something. I can't eat grown-up portions for some reason.) But the salads caught my eye.

I saw a veggie salad with cheddar, cucumbers, asparagus, green beans, edamame, beets, chicken and radicchio and I figured I'd give it a shot. I'm not a huge fan of beets, but I figured i could eat around them if I found them horrid in the salad.

I'm very sorry I decided to take a chance.

Everything was chopped and in cubes, for one. I'm a big fan of presentation. And I know I got takeout, but can you slice some cucumbers? Even the cheese was in blocks! What kind of mess is that? YET, the chicken was sliced so thinly, I'm positive they cut half a chicken breast in half and sliced it horizontally to give me these slivers of chicken.

Bastards.

In addition, something just doesn't taste right. There's a slightly bitter taste to some of the food. (By the way, I'm no fan of the Cheesecake factory house vinaigrette) I'm blaming it on the radicchio, but I've eaten radicchio before and it's never tasted so blech.

My face is scrunched up and I'm sad because I just spent like $11 on this monstrosity.. I should have just gotten some buffalo wings.

Fruity (pause) Suprise

I got an Edible Arrangement today!


The BF got it delivered to my job. I don't have my camera, so I couldn't take a picture to post, but I found this one on the Web site. Mine is a bit smaller than this, but it's still HUGE.


What better way to start the week?!


I remember telling him about how cool I thought they were when a friend of mine got one while we were in Florida. They're usually huge, so you kinda have to share.


I hesitantly cracked mine open (it was so pretty) and ate at least one of everything in the bouquet before I sent an e-mail to my co-workers saying they could stop by my desk for a fruity treat. Even now, I keep taking the pineapple (one of my favorites) and wondering to myself whether i should save any for anyone else.


Eh. No. It's my gift. I'll eat all the pineapple if I want to. I did share a pineapple daisy with the security guard. See? I'm generous.


And really, who knew that chocolate covered strawberries were so tasty!? And why wasn't I informed of this deliciousness until now?

P.S. -- T minus six days until my birthday. There's still time to get those gifts in the mail. Hop to it.

Hooray, friends!

My friends are coming to visit for my birthday!

You already know I'm planning the itinerary, right?

There's this play I want to see at the Black Rep.

And there's Waterfire that night.

And we gotta find a cool restaurant for my pre-birthday/ birthday weekend dinner.

Oh, this is gonna be great!

Wondering what a T-Dot wants for her birthday?

UPDATED!!!


Wonder no more.

It's getting to be about that time. So, here, in no particular order, is the requisite list of potential birthday gifts for you, my adoring friends, fans and otherwise...

Just a reminder to get those gifts, cards and other symbols of love in the mail early to ensure timely arrival.

And as always, I'm open to new things. It's my mid-20s birthday. So I'm looking for anything to make it special.

1. Visits from friends
2. Replacement copies of CDs I've lost over the years, or wouldn't mind having for the first time: Fugees "the score," Lauryn hill "Miseducation of Lauryn Hill," Miles Davis "Kind of Blue," Estelle "Estelle," Prince "Purple Rain," (or really any good Prince compilation or CD); N.E.R.D. "Seeing Sounds," Beyonce "B-Day," Santogold "Santogold," Raphael Saadiq's new album and anything else you think I might enjoy.
3. Gift cards to any of the following stores: Banana Republic (preferably the three in one gift card that can be used at BR, Gap or Old Navy), Sephora, Nordstrom's, Aldo, J.Crew, Express, and anywhere else you think I might enjoy
4. Perfume -- Still looking for a signature scent, but I enjoy the original scent by Kenzo and I'm up to try new things. I like clean, light, fresh scents. Nothing too overpowering
5. Spa Day -- last year, I went here and got a Swedish massage. Heaven. I'll take any spa services from any reputable day spa in the Providence or greater Boston area.
6. Flowers -- I like having things delivered to my job. It makes me feel loved. Plus, it ensures that I'll actually get it because I'm never home to accept deliveries at my apartment.
7. My hair done -- a style at the salon I go to runs about $60. Feel free to treat me.
8. Clothes -- trying to up my chic, stylish swagger. So the above gift cards are appreciated, as would be any fashion finds you may stumble upon. If you're interested, let me know and I'll send you my size (errybody don't need to know that info).
9. Tickets to the theater -- I love good plays but I haven't been in ages.
   Again, theaters and shows in the Providence and greater Boston area are a go.
10. A bottle of that wine that Aaron and I had at P.F. Chang's in Chicago (I don't remember what it was called, but it was a Cali wine.)
11. Talk Soap lip gloss in Soledad; Chanel glossimer (Veronica likes it, so why not?); or really, a gift certificate to Sephora -- I need to step up my makeup game to highlight my sexy.
12. A nice outing or dinner so I can wear this festive orange silk dress I bought from Banana Republic, but never got to wear, for NABJ.
13. I'm loving these right now.
14. And I do live in New England. So I'm considering a pair of these or these

I can't think of anything else, but I'm sure that'll change. I'll add to the list as I see fit.

Closet Case

So I'm in the midst of this massive fall cleaning.

I'm doing pretty okay. My house looks otherwise, but I'm doing okay. A large part of that is probably that I spend as little time as possible in my house, and if I am there, I'm cleaning. So I'm not just like, sitting in a pile of purses, ATM receipts and expired salad dressing.

Well, I decided to tackle my closet on Saturday. I'd been sick all week and took a half day on Friday. After sleeping the night away heavily drugged, I got up feeling pretty okay.

And I knew I needed to clean.

Confession time: Remember that trip I went on? Yeah, in July? Um, my suitcase was still sitting at the foot of my bed unpacked. I'd step over it on my way into bed each night. If I needed something inside of it, I'd just rifle through the contents and find the wrinkled article of clothing and put it on.

Don't judge me.

So, I didn't want to do too much on my first day not feeling horrible, so I figured unpacking the suitcase would be a worthwhile venture. But then I realized something: the reason I hadn't unpacked was because I had nowhere to put anything. My walk in closet (yes, it's fantastic) was jammed pack.

Yet I had nothing to wear. Peculiar? I think so.

Tackling the closet was no easy task. As I mentioned, I'm a semi-pack rat, so it pained me to consider throwing out club shirts I hadn't worn since I was 18, shoes I'd worn until the soles flapped, or bags that were perfectly fine except for the gaping hole in the lining. But slowly, I tackled the closet. Taking out the papers, cleaning out the purses, putting every ill fitting, ugly, or just ridiculously old piece of clothing into a trash bag and tossing it into the living room. (That pile of bags, by the way, is beginning to take over my living area. But I digress.)

When I finished hanging up the last skirt and restacking the last shoe box, I was amazed at what I saw. My closet was 1/2 full.

I panicked.

What would I wear? What if all of my clothes were dirty and I needed that short sleeved white polyester sweater that I'd gotten in 11th grade? And how would I ever replace my clothes?!

Then I realized I'd just done laundry and a bunch of clothes were still in the laundry basket.

Relief.

Still, it made me realize that this is the perfect opportunity to re-up my closet. I'm tossing some old jackets and winter coats next -- and my prom dress may have to go as well -- so when it gets cold, I'll have to buy stylish replacements to keep me going through these tough New England winters.

This might not be so bad after all.

I changed my phone screen saver today.

It doesn't seem like a big deal, but somewhere it made me sad.

See, I'd changed it to a photo that was on my phone to remind me of something nice someone once did for me. For a while, the picture worked. I'd open up my phone and smile. Then, after a while, it stopped working. It got to the point where I didn't want to look at my screen because it felt so forced.

So I changed it back to the red flowers that Samsung give you as a stock screensaver.

I don't know why the image that started out great ended up hurting, but I'm sure I'll figure it out one day.

Guess who found their camera cord!?

Oh, and you wanted a new picture?

You got it.

Enjoy!

Nervous Energy

It's 2 a.m. and I'm up.

It's 2:17 a.m. to be exact. And I'm up.

sigh.

I have a lot of nervous energy. Like, a ton.

People always wonder how I stay cool. How I always seem to be calm. How I seem to be so unaffected by the pressures and aggrevations of daily life.

Little secret people: I am.

I'm highly affected and it manifests itself through the nervous energy that has me wired at 2:18 a.m. It's the same nervous energy that has led me to create two Facebook albums (well, one and designs on another as we speak), wash the mountain of dishes in my sink and clean my kitchen table (you haven't seen my kitchen table) after I just got back from watching Dark Knight in IMAX (sidenote, if you can, go do that. Heath Ledger is amazing).

So sometimes the nervous energy works to my advantage.

I've been pretty good at harvesting it thus far. It's why people consider me, I suppose, motivated and upwardly mobile. Because I use the energy most use to get mad to do something. It worked in school, where it just motivated me to study hard. Sometimes it had side effects. In college, in the midst of the Hampton hoopla, I developed a slight eye twitch during the most stressful time. It went away, but that tick showed me that maybe having all this energy pent up inside just to remain calm on the outside isn't worth it.

How quickly we forget the lessons of our youth.

I'm older now. Like to think I'm wiser. But I know that I'm not. I still hold that anger in a lot of times. Choosing to swallow it instead of giving someone a piece of my mind or bursting into an expletive laced tirade. So I'll keep quiet and go arrange a bookshelf in the middle of an argument. Or fold clothes. Or do my taxes.

Not very productive.

Sigh. I feel like I had a place to go with this, but alas, I'm slightly drugged up on that 'tussin for this nagging cough I've been trying to shake for the last week. At least the drugs let me go to sleep semi-cough free. Alright kiddies. Sorry if I wasted yo.ur time. But I had to do something to get rid of this nervous energy.

'Nite

I'm

Gathering my shambles

I guess it's just kind of that time of life.

A lot of people I talk to are working to "get their lives together." Ah, another Hamptonism working it's way into real life.

This one (though she's a *shudder* Bison) is working on it. So are a few of my other friends.

Whether it's developing a schedule, disciplining yourself, or just figuring out where you want to go in life, we're all just trying to pickup the pieces because our lives, as we see it, are in semi-shambles.

Me? I'm just trying to clean my house.

I've always been a packrat. And a messy one at that. I keep receipts. I keep ticket stubs. I keep twin sheets and comforters from college because I never know when a sleepover may breakout and I'll be glad I had that bed in a bag.

But the problem is the clutter is crowding out my life.

My clothes sit in bags and baskets in my bedroom floor, my walk-in closet too jam packed with clothes to fit them all. Yet, I have nothing to wear. What's taking up space on the rack are things I bought when I got to Hampton. Yeah, it's 2008. I know.

Plastic bags tumble from my kitchen pantry. I'm earth conscious so I don't want to throw them out and crowd up a landfill. I read to the back of one of the shelves, which is so disorganized, I didn't notice the unopened bottle of vinaigrette and bought a new one. (Though, I checked and the expiration date definitely said 2007. So I needed a new one anyway. Sigh.)

I've just got too much stuff.

So I decided to get rid of it.

After I got back from my trip, I figured now was as good a time as any to declutter my life. I threw out probably two years worth of magazines. I chucked those plastic bags (and their paper counterparts). I have no less than six bags of bedding, clothes and shoes waiting to be taken to the nearest Goodwill.

The sad part is, I'm not even close to done.

I bit off too much, people. Instead of working in one room and finishing it before moving on to another, I tackled the whole house because I wanted to put off going through my Tupperware or didn't know where to start when pruning my closet.

The result is that my living room and really, my entire house, looks like a disaster zone.

I'm hoping that when I finish, I'll be able to feel the space I've created. And maybe begin to surround myself with more of the things I love, rather than the things I've held on to in case I needed them.

And I guess that's step one in getting my life together. I just wish it didn't take so long.
Or require so much work.
Or so many trash bags.

Oh yeah

And I worked out on Friday!

For a whole hour and a half!

I laced up my sneakers and ran/jog/walked on the treadmill for like 40 minutes. Then I did some weight machines to buff up my triceps and biceps.

It felt pretty good.

By the way, Beyonce's "B-Day" is THE BEST album to work out to. Ever.

And I'm thoroughly enjoying NERDs "Seeing Sounds." I got about halfway through it, I suppose while I worked on my arms.

Maybe I'll hit the gym again tomorrow -- or bust out a Pilates tape. Yay me!

How do you celebrate 25 years of life?

I turn 25 in roughly 54 days (don't clown, my calendar numbers the days left in the year).

Problem is, I don't know what I want to do.

So, this birthday is a pretty big one. Yet, I'm not as excited as I was for y birthday last year.

The BF mentioned this the other day. We were at dinner and he brought my birthday up. Then he came to his senses:

"What's up? This time last year, I'd been told your birthday was coming at least 2 months ago."

Iano. Just not as excited.

Last year, I was just amped. I had a banging roller skate party, went to dinner at a swanky restaurant and had a fantastic time.

This year, all I really want is to be around some friends on my birthday. But it's a double edged sword: if I invite a bunch of people up, I'll have to entertain them.

Did I mention I live in Rhode Island? Yeah.

So I don't really want that added stress of trying to entertain people. But really, I would love it if everyone could be in my living room and we just chill and watch movies and play games or something lame like that.

I thought about visiting friends, but all of my buddies are spread out, so i'd have to choose one friend to spend my 25th birthday with -- and that kinda sucks. If somehow, all of my friends could move to Philadelphia or somewhere like that, that'd be awesome (I like cheesesteaks). Plus, I could visit you all at the same time.

Sigh. But I don't think that will happen in 54 days.

So why am I writing this?

Really? I need to steal some ideas. What did you do for your 25th birthday? Details, people -- I need details! Because really, right now, I'm at a loss.

And that's no way to celebrate a quarter century of life.

Confession

I didn't set foot in a gym since I typed this note.

I think I'm okay with that.

I've learned in the last month or so that I'm a lot smaller than I originally thought I was, though I know size has nothing to do with health.

If anything, I do want to get back on my yoga/pilates because I felt better when I was doing them. I had more energy and felt like I stood straighter. Plus, I just felt stronger. And was flexible. That never hurts.

So my gym shoes didn't get dusty during my vacation. The exercise bug is still in me. We're taking baby steps. Maybe I'll take the stairs to my office Tuesday rather than the elevator. Maybe.

Style Star

I promised ya'll a new pic, didn't I?

So, about that.

I just got back from a banging vacation/professional development stint. I was gone nearly two weeks. First, I went to the quadrennial UNITY: Journalists of Color convention in Chitown. Good times were had. I got to hook up with the Ten95 homies, as well as other friends from the industry -- and surprisingly from Flint.

Then I headed to Reno, Nevada for a seminar on court reporting. Then it was five days in sunny Richmond, Calif. eating barbecue and drinking sweet tea.

And I promise I documented a lot of it. I swear I did. But my camera died. And I can only charge it with the USB cord that allows you to download the pictures to your computer.

I lost the cord.

So, until I can find it, here's a shot of my new 'do (which, ironically, I washed out this morning) courtesy of Facebook.

It's a picture of me and Duck at the UNITY party in Chicago. Note the Prince and the Revolution T-shirt. So hood.

Anyway, those lovely comb twists you may be able to see atop my noggin lasted me three time zones, seven plane rides, and three weeks. Tell me that's not a good deal for $55. I was going to try to stretch them one more week with a coil out, but when I started taking them out this morning and saw all that dirtiness from 3 weeks of travel, I decided my hair needed a good washing more than another week of a hairstyle.

So it's back to the 'fro. At least for a little while.

Surprisingly, the response to my new hair was overwhelmingly positive. People LOVED it. Although, I'm not sure if they loved it because it was a great hairstyle or because it's something different from the puff I normally wear.

As the BF says "I'm always a fan of variety."

Guess the masses have spoken. T-Dot needs to switch it up from time to time.

*reaches and pulls out the collection plate*

Anyone want to ante up for my next style change? I'm thinking two strand twists. We like the kind that jingles, but we'd prefer the kind that folds. Thankyou.

Whatchu know about me?

I've been tagged.

It's been a while since I participated in one of these things, so I will oblige (only for my sister, that doesn't mean you random cats need to start tagging me in an effort to get me to post more often).

So here it goes: Ten weird, random things, facts and habits and about little old me

1. I have to sleep with cover on me regardless of the temperature. Preferably a comforter or a thick blanket, but I'll take a throw if that's all you have. It bothers me when I only have a sheet to cover me.
   
2. I'm a passive communicator. I'd prefer to send a text message (often) than have a real conversation with some people. It's not that I don't like talking to them, I just want to get the answer to my question/let them know I thought about them while exerting the least amount of energy.
   
3. Despite being the "black journalism sweetheart" sometimes I really hate my job and wish I could just lay around on my couch and watch Food Network all day.
4. I'm apparently "stuck in 2003" because I just got wireless Internet, barely use my computer outside of work. Sue me for wanting to unwind when I'm not on the clock.
5. I normally wear long skirts and pants because, as a kid, I was ashamed of my knock knees. I'm still a little self conscious about them.
6. I love Prince.
   
7. No matter where I am, I have to use the bathroom before I go to bed. I started the ritual as a kid so that I wouldn't pee in the bed (Rutha Mae didn't play that) and just kept it up long after I was potty trained.
   
8. My style (self-defined Gap with a splash of color) is mostly a result of my own laziness and lack of confidence in my decision making skills. I figure if everything is solid and matches everything else, I can never go wrong.
9. I am afraid of heights. Not deathly, but enough.
   
10. I snort when something is really funny.
    

Girl, get yo hair did

This is why I hate hair salons.

I got my hair done yesterday. And according to the people who complimented me on it at a friend's party last night, apparently it's laid.

But it took me all day to get it. (I'll post pics later)

My appointment was at 12:30 Saturday afternoon. I'm pretty punctual and mindful of people's schedules, so I got there right on the dot.

I had enough time to read an newspaper produced, it seemed, by the same people that Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez was involved with shortly before her death. Apparently sugar in cigarettes is what makes it addictive and a master teacher in Brooklyn has the cure to AIDS. I was thankful when she called me to the chair.

The stylist blew my hair out and I marvelled at the fro that looked back at me in the mirror. My hair, normally tightly coiled and probably about 3 inches high, was semi straight and extended at least seven inches from my skull. The possibilities of pony tails, twists with curls and other hairstyles danced through my head. I didn't know I had THAT much hair. Sweet.

She trimmed my horribly split ends and after washing my strands, sat me down for the process to come. Comb twists, or single strand twists, are like most natural hairstyles: time consuming. In this style, you take a rattail comb, grab some sort of gel or holding creme and take tiny pieces of hair and wrap them around themselves in a circular motion -- making miniature Shirley Temple curls in the process.

I was called to the chair at 1 p.m. I didn't get under the dryer until 4:20 p.m.

See, that would have been nothing back when I had a perm, where I'd easily spend hours getting the chemicals slopped onto my head, my ends trimmed, my hair deep conditioned, my neck burning under the dome dryer and the hot irons singeing my curls. But it's been more than a year since I stepped into a salon -- and two years and change since my last perm. I'm used to getting a trim at the barber shop, or better yet, washing my hair in the morning, de-tangling and letting it air dry into my signature puff.

When I walked out of the salon at about 5:30 p.m., I was less than impressed with my hair. The actual technical aspect was impeccably done. I think it was more the shock of seeing my skull and the solid wrapping lotion still dripping down my neck (and sticking my ears to the back of my head). So I needed the affirmation from the party goers that all of my waiting wasn't in vain.

Anyway, like I said, pics will be up soon. If nothing else, look for the UNITY shots.

And I bought some cute earrings to go with it, so watch out now.

Dance, girl, dance

Quick post to let you all know how much I am absolutely loving this girl.

yeah, the curly haired one.

So, I just got cable a few weeks back, so I've been catching up on all of the quality television I've missed in the last few years (looks around to see if lightning strikes her).

And I stumbled across America's Best Dance Crew. I'd heard about it from the curly one, who dances, but it wasn't until I saw one of the first shows that I fell in love with it. In a stupor, I sent my excitement to V in text form. It was short, and went something like this:

T-Dot: Just watched ABDC. It makes me wish I could dance!
V: Dance, girl, dance.

So, yeah. She didn't know it, but that meant a lot to me. It was just a throw away line, telling me to cut loose and just do it. But at the time, it just seemed really profound to me. I won't wax poetic about how its a metaphor for life and how it inspired me to sieze the day and do all that I've wanted to do, mostly because I want you all to be return readers. But know that I wrote it in my moleskin notebook and I peek at it from time to time.

Now, on to the most recent thing that she doesn't even know she did.

After a rough patch and what looks to be a slamming birthday, Curly updated her Facebook. Well, pause. Let me explain how I stumbled across the updatd Facebook page. So, Curly put up pictures of said birthday, which included her significant other -- my best friend (who really wants to get disowned because I haven't heard from him in umpteen moons). So anyway, while browsing the pics, I run across this shot of my friend and his new facial hair. It's like a little black ball of hair -- but just on his chin though.

Not a full on Rick Ross/Baron Davis beard. Moreso like King Tut. So I offered to take him to get his eyebrows done when I come to Virginia in a few weeks.

Of course, Curly hit the floor when she read the comment. I saw her new picture (which was very festive) and went to her profile. That's where I saw the update.

At the end of all of her random quotes and etc., she'd replaced the handful of paragraphs in her about me section with only one:

"Express everything you like. No word can hurt you. None. No idea can hurt you. Not being able to express an idea or word will hurt you more. Like a bullet."-- Jamaica Kincaid

Alright.

So this is why this meant a lot to me. I've been having a hard time communicating lately. Like, besides work. It's just when it comes to me telling someone how I feel, or that they hurt me, or that I don't want to do something, I freeze up. I worry they'll be upset or mad at my comment or that I'll hurt them unintentionally. So I say nothing and jsut bottle everything up inside instead. Which, of course, does not help the situation because then I find myself crippled by this fear whenever I should be speaking my mind. You know in your heart that it's better to say things and just get them out rather than to keep them in or to be in a situaiton where you feel you can't. But hearing the concept equated to that of a bullet, it just kind of hit home.

It's the same thing as the dancing. Stop worrying about what you look like, who's laughing or what anyone is saying about you and just dance.

So yeah. That's why I stopped my workday to post this. To say thank you to Curly.

Thanks, girl.

(T-Dot's) New Workout Plan

I'm trying to get my exercise life back on track.

At the end of this month, I'll be travelling pretty much for two weeks straight. And in between the conventions and parties and shenanigans, I'll be spending a lot of time in strange cities in hotel rooms.

With exercise equipment. Maybe even a pool (I have a racing speedo!)

So I'm packing my running shoes and exercise clothes. Should be interesting. Because I'm so unmotivated. And even though I'll be staring at a posh bed with premium cable (YES!), I'm going to try to do my best to get up (or stay up late) and getting my work out on.

My goal is to just be able to run up the stairs at my job (4 floors) without getting too winded. Small successes are all I'm looking for, really. Plus, less jiggly thighs and arms wouldn't be a bad side effect, either.

Who wants to buy me a new iPod so I can get right to some tunes?

I'm trying to remind myself that any day that I haven't seen before is a good one.

Really, I am.

But I'm in a pissy mood. Bad part is, I don't even know why. Just kinda want the world to leave me alone for a bit. Just an hour. Maybe two.

Long enough for a good nap. Maybe a bath.

Let me think about good news. Good news. Good news.....

I'll probably go see my sister this weekend (yay!) to help her move into her new NYC home. She is supposed to close on her house this week. The ony thing that would stop me is if work gets in the way. Stupid paycheck. Wait, good things....

So that'll be fun. If I can get there. I'll probably just stay the whole weekend. Kick it and help her unpack. So that'll be cool.

I bought a GREAT dress yesterday. It should be coming in the mail any day now. Wanna see it? Here it go. Now imagine me in it, fro rocking, heels towering, I might even throw some makeup on. Man, I'm gonna look good in that dress. Chicago ain't ready.

Speaking of Chicago, I am exactly...(counts on her fingers) 15 days away from the beginning of my vacation/professional development! Yay! Be happy for me. First, I'm heading to Chicago for the UNITY Convention, then I spend two days in Reno, Nevada for a court reporters seminar. Then...wait for it... I'm heading to Virginia for four days to kick it with the BF and his family. Right. Big stuff huh? It should be cool. Even though the first week I'll be gone will be semi work, it should still be a good time.

What else, what else? Well, speaking of clothes (I know, that was a graph or two ago), I'm trying to find some more shoes. I think I'm going to get a pair of those gladiator sandals. And maybe some other sort of heel to diversify my shoe alternatives. I think that would be a smart idea. What I really need is a shirt to go with this skirt I bought. I bought it a while ago from Banana Republic. It's black, knee length, a little highwaisted (but not super) and it has a lace overlay. I'm trying to figure out what kind of shirt to wear with it. I"m thinking some sort of nice, semi satiny cardigan set, or something cashmere and really expensive looking. Iano. I'll keep thinking.

Alright, i should really get to work. Enough rambling for now. Ciao.

About that picture

Man that picture is old.

The picture you see at the top of this page. That one. It was taken at the NABJ Convention in Indianapolis in 2006.

Check your calendars. Yeah, it's 2008.

I'd just done my "big chop" and cut all of the remnants of permed hair from my head. On Tuesday, I celebrated my 2 year anniversary of natural hair.

Yeah, I missed it. My bad.

I guess it's because it doesn't seem like that big of an accomplishment. Once I decided to go natural, the general feeling was that I wasn't going back to perms, texturizers or anything of the sort. This was it. I was going to be natural for the rest of my life. Shoot, I even had thoughts ofme being the cool journalist/editor/college professor with a gray streaked afro and glasses mentoring young scribes. Man, I'm serious about this thing.

But the two year mark got me thinking.

Well, first, I'm boring. I wear my hair the same way -- in an afro with a headband -- pretty much every day. I'll switch it up and wear it without a headband if I'm feeling "reckless" or "relaxed." My efforts to try to do twists, twist outs or comb coils have been stymied by my own laziness. My desire to want to do other cool styles is hindered by my hair length and texture.

The second thing I started thinking about was how horrible of a shape my hair is in. I straightened it about two months ago and was disgusted by the ragged ends on my head. I was one of those girls who kept the good ends (for the most part) when I had a perm. Seeing my ends in such a split condition really hurt my heart.

So yeah, what now?

Well, I think I'm going to make an appointment at a salon to get a professional trim. That's number one. There's a place in Boston that a friend of mine says is really good. So I figure I'll give them a try. Then, I guess I'll just have to do something else with my hair. If anyone wants to volunteer to style it from time to time, I'm taking appointments. I just hate doing my hair.

Anyway, happy 2 year natural anniversary to me. And about that pic? I'll change it when I get a new hairstyle. Promise.

At the Carnival

Here are some pics from the carnival the BF and I went to a few weeks ago, as promised.



To the left is the Zipper, the crazy ride I told you guys about? If you go to a carnival and they have this ride -- GET ON IT. It's scary as all get out, and it feels kind of like you're going to be thrown to your death, but it is THE BEST RIDE ever. Period. Do it now.

This is what it looks like from inside the Zipper. You see that? That's elevation. Get at me.

This is me, outside the ticket booth where we scalped out tickets. Cuz I got what you need. Red Sox? Celtics? Bootleg carnival tickets? I got it all.

And yes, my shirt says "squeeze me" and has a picture of a lemon on it. And what?

This is the BF, trying his luck at the carnival game. He won me a six-tentacled octopus that now sits on my entertainment center. It's pink and blue.

News Flash

It. Is. So. Hot. Right. Now.

Sunday was a good day

Things just kinda hit the fan Sunday. I'm usually not that emotional -- sometimes to my detriment. But it was a rough day at church and I was rushing home to get ready for the retirement party for my Executive Editor.

I came in quiet. The BF asked me how things were. I walked past him, hoping he'd thought I just didn't hear him (he speaks softly).

The white dress I'd planned to exchange for a smaller size (I have a hard time figuring out proper fit) was stripped from my body and thrown haphazardly onto my bed. I went to my closet and clawed at the hangers, looking for something to wear.

I put on a skirt. Then a yellow shirt.

No.

Tried a brown shirt. Capris. No.

Nothing worked. Soon, a pile of rumpled clothes lie at the side of my bed. The BF came into the room.

"You alright?"

I stared at the clothes. I didn't know how to answer. I didn't want to talk about anything. I just wanted to put on clothes, go to this barbecue and put a smile on my face. I wanted to mutter that everything was fine. But I couldn't. So I didn't.

Not for lack of trying though.

I opened my mouth but words just wouldn't come out. Then I broke down. It was messy. Oh, it was messy. I kinda felt bad for the BF because it just came outta no where.

I was just tired. And I couldn't hold it in anymore. So I collapsed in his arms, wailed and let the tears flow.

"I can't find anything to wear," I said after the tears had stopped.

He chuckled and said something like, "if that's what this is about, we can go to the mall and get you a dress."

Made me smile. That's why I love him.

So somehow, he got me to tell him what was eating me. The job. Church. Lack of motivation for showing up at this barbecue. Life in general. Everything.

He said we didn't have to go, bless his heart. But we'd paid money. Barbecue was to be had.

I pulled on a pink shirt -- one that actually fits -- my capris and my brown wedges. We headed up to Lincoln talking about some of the things that were bothering me and about randomness in general. The resolution to all of the issues essentially was to take each of them one by one, determine what I want from it, what I don't want from it and work to make that happen. And move on from there. The BF - who is often very passionate -- was very calm in talking about the things bothered me, even the hard stuff. I appreciated that and felt a whole lot better by the time we go to the cook out.

The barbecue was cool. Lots of food. Lots of employees I don't know. Kinda awkward. We found some young coworkers of mine and hung out with them until they headed out. Then we ate, talked with some other coworkers and then called it a night.

I didn't want to go home and sulk -- or worse, watch Food Network (yes, I got cable!) -- so I suggested we go do something.

"It's on you, boss."

So I went home, put on a t-shirt and some tennis shoes, grabbed our mitts and we set out for the local park. A few months back, the BF taught me to play catch (yes, I had to be taught -- try and throw something at me and you'll see why). He's a big sports fan, so we bought gloves and a softball.

He threw some soft pitches to get me warmed up. Tried to recoach me at proper glove placement. Reminded me to use two hands. I'm sweet on my left side. It's when the pitches come to my right or at my face that there are sometimes problems. Pop-ups? I'm actually decent on those, too.

We threw until it got dark -- around 8:30 p.m. -- and then I wanted ice cream. Instead of going to a place in East Providence, I suggested we head down to West Warwick, where I cover. There was an ice cream place this guy runs that has pomegranate ice cream. So we hop on the expressway.

Five minutes into the ride, we see it.

"Is that a carnival?!"

Oh yeah.

I pull the Cavi off the exit and head toward the flashing lights. The carnival had just started, we found out and would be there until Saturday. Best part? It only cost $2.

Sweet.

Got some tickets and headed straight for the money maker: the Zipper. It was, quite possibly, one of the scariest things I've done in a long time. And it was fantastic. I'll put pics up later.

From there, unfortunately, the carnival went downhill. We got on one other ride, then we needed more tickets because we wanted to play games. We go to the ticket booth and drop $20. Then we walk over to the game vendors, ready to win some prizes.

"We work by cash," the carni said.

Say what? We got hosed.

So we try to get our money back so we can play some games (we only had $20 cash on us and no ATM in sight). OF course, they don't give refunds. We walk around for a second a little blown, a little confused, then we decide the answer is simple:

Scalp the tickets.

So we set up shop near the ticket booth (after asking, of course) and try to intercept some sales. A crew straight out of the O.C. walks up prepared to buy a boatload of tickets. We tell them our dilemma. We only need a few tickets, but we have a sheet of $20. Buy the tickets from us, we say.

One of the guys says, "how much?"

Um, $20, dude. He goffs. I look at him like, this ain't no negotiation. We just want our money. You need tickets. Don't try to get over.

Luckily, the girls he was with were more sympathetic. They bought our tickets from us no problem. We thanked them, turned around and bought a $10 sheet and put the other $10 in my purse.

We rode two more rides and the BF won an octopus (with six tentacles) for me. We were going to do the ferris wheel -- you know, the requisite romantic ride -- but when we saw it, it just looked so anticlimactic. So we passed it up for some rotating thing. It was cool. It was almost tragedy because as we were getting out of the ride, a pair of keys -- from someone on the ride next to us -- landed in the middle of the ride.

Hard.

If we'd still been spinning, that would have knocked someone in the head, easily. So, the BF turned the keys into a policeman near the front. As we walked away, another patron turned in a switchblade. All kinds of things fall off these rides, people. And that poor policeman was becoming lost and found.

As for us, our days at the carnival were over. It was wack from there on out (we'd pretty much done everything) so we grabbed some cotton candy and went back to the car. We made a Chilis run on the way to the house (late night eating options in RI are slim) and plopped down on the couch with some cajun chicken pasta and chicken tacos.

I gotta say, it was actually a good day.

(dun, dunda, dun, dun dun dun -pause - dun dun dadun dun dundun)

Today

I just realized I'm depressed. Not like suicidal or anything, but I seriously think I'm depressed about something.

I think my job has a lot to do with it. And some other things in my life. But mostly my job. I just feel like I"m not living up to my potential.

Like I'm pretending to be a journalist. Not really do it.

The easy thing would be to just do it, huh. But I've been trying to make myself do that for the last few months and it hasn't been working.

I've been without a computer for the last few days because it got a virus. Today, I've been flitting from one coworkers computer to another. I've done scant work today. I could have done more.

I should have done more.

I'm not fulfilled. I'm not happy.

But I don't know what will make me happy. I keep thinking that I should get a new job, but I'm scared.

Really scared.

Afraid that I'll get to the new place and feel this same feeling all over again. Afraid no one will want me. Afraid that the place I go to will be worse. Afraid that maybe it's not the job. Maybe it's me.

I got all but offered a job in Virginia a few weeks ago. I turned them down. They were offering a good job in legal reporting or education -- things that I'd like to see if I want to focus on forever. Part of the reason I turned them down was because everything happened so quickly. I sent my stuff over and then they wanted me to come down, essentially, that weekend. I wasn't honestly looking -- just putting some feelers out. I listened to what they were saying. But I learned they were up for sale, which really is what sealed the deal --- or at least gave me a way out. The way I'm feeling now, I need to go into a newsroom that's stable so that I don't get lost. I'm a utility worker. I want to do better, not end up filling gaps and being "solid" for the rest of my life.

I saw this on Errin's gmail the other day:

"The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want." ~ Ben Stein

That's my biggest problem. I have no clue what I want and I feel like I should have known a long time ago.

Not knowing seemed fine when I graduated college. Shoot, it even seemed fine when I took this job. But I'm approaching 25 years on this earth. Not knowing is not seeming so cool anymore.

Consider this my quarter-life crisis, 7 months in advance.

For, really, all of my life, all I've ever wanted to do was be a journalist. Hell, it's all I'm good at. I talk to people. I get them to tell me things. I write them down. Repeat. It's been my life for the last what, 9 or 10 years (I started writing when I was in the 10th grade). I don't know any other tricks. I don't want to learn.

I'm not talking multimedia or web or whatever. Those are just variations on the trick I've been turning for the last decade (give or take). Those things don't scare me. What scares me is that maybe after all this time (older readers, stifle your laughter) that I've been going down the wrong path.

I keep thinking I want to move into editing. But it's hard to be an editor when you've only got 2 or 3 years of experience, two non-first place awards and a handful of mediocre clips with no passion behind them. And I don't want to give up on writing. I love writing. It's fun. Sometimes. But a lot of times, it sucks. I keep thinking a change of scenery would help. I don't know.

I'm at my coworkers desk now because my computer is still broken. The tears are welling in my eyes. To my right, a coworker is on the phone with a source. The other employees are typing away at stories.

I'm writing this blog.

That's all I've got.

Where's my Swagger?

I was just at J's page and I realized something:

I need to be more fabulous.

Not that I don't have a great personality, but my wardrobe does not convey that. I'm cute. I dress well. But I'm always missing that umph.

I need to find that.

And take pictures of it.

Yeah.

That's all.

What? You think I'm too nice?

I asked for it. V wants to know what things Really, Honestly, and Completely Tick You Off.

Ummm. Hm. That's a toughy. I don't get mad that often. But I guess, if I had to make a list -- and I do -- I'd say:

People who won't let me (or any other person with only a few items to buy)

go in front of them at the grocery store

People telling me what (they think) I am incapable of

People questioning my logic when it makes sense, but it just different than theirs

Self-righteous, overly militant people who tell me I'm a sellout because I'm not buying the "white man is the devil" blahdiblah they're pushing.

Female Genital Mutilation. Random, I know.

Being taking advantage of

Watching someone else being taken advantage of

Teachers who don't press children for greatness and the dead looks in the eyes of a child that has lost hope (I just spoke to a group of elementary kids, sue me.)

People parking in MY assigned space at my apartment complex. There are visitor spots and a whole other parking lot for non-residents to use. I pay rent here. I GET to park near the door.

You don't.

The bad rap HBCU's and HBCU grads get

Being questioned by an organization I'm in when I choose to do something outside of my normal routine. I can take a vacation/have a day off/sleep in/do-whatever-I-want-because-I'm-grown you know.

Rude drivers who refuse to let me over to get off at the exit even though I have my blinker on and they can't go anywhere until I get out of the lane. Bastards.

Oh, and bad grammar on Web sites or in e-mails.

Memorial Day snooze

It's Memorial Day.

I have the day off.

And I'm sitting on my couch super bored.

What's wrong with this picture?

No one is having a barbecue.

We missed all of the parades.

No festivals.

To late to go to the beach.

J is falling asleep on the couch. I'm IMing on the computer. Thinking about how I can get outside to do something.

Sigh.

Let me know if you have suggestions.

Even if I don't use them today, I'll bank them for later!

Where's my car?

My car got towed last night.

It severely messed up my day.

Especially seeing as how I was in New York and needed to drive back to Rhode Island today.

Daggone "No Standing" signs. I think it was a new one. I swear I've parked there at least 5 other times overnight and never gotten a ticket. Fa sho never got towed.

Sigh. Story to come.

Awards!

My sis wants to know which stories got me awards.

For those who don't know, I got two third place awards from the Rhode Island Press Association -- big cookies for me, since these were my first two professional journalism awards.

Here are the stories

2007 Rhode Island Press Association Third Place - Spot News
2007 Rhode Island Press Association Third Place - In-Depth Reporting

Enjoy!

T-Dot Redux

Happy Cinco de Mayo, everyone! Go support your local Mexican.

I was trolling through the T-Dot archives and found a post I made a year ago, where I apologized for being away so long (sound familiar?) and gave an update on some things in my life. I figured it wouldn't be a bad thing to update this a little. Here goes:

I'm still working on that debt free thing.

Sam's Club is back. I rejoined the super warehouse, BUT, I didn't get the credit card. I'm just a plain ole member, with access to the lovelyness that is all things bulk. I did, however, pay off my Bank of America credit card with my taxes this year (joy!) and I'm slowly chipping away at the foolishness that is my American Express card. A month or so ago, actually, when I got my tax return, I was on a debt eliminating kick. So I called Amex and told them I needed a lower interest rate. Now, a little background. Last year, I did the same thing because they'd raised my rates after I was late with a couple payments. No worries. I got on the financial work out plan known as automatic bill pay and have been consistent ever since -- and paying them twice a month. So I note all of this to the teller. And with no problem at all, he lowers my rate to some thing in the 8 percent range. Very good. I've also started contributing more to my savings account by automatically deducting $75 out of each check on payday. I don't miss it and my savings account is getting nice and plump.

I'm not buying a house.

I don't know if I told you all this, but I don't want to be in Rhode Island forever. Yes, I've been paying rent for nearly 3 years in Rhode Island, but honestly, I ain't trying to have ties to this area when I decide to move on. Beyond that, I'm not in the situation financially to be a homeowner. I have good credit, but my savings are not what they need to be and my main priority is debt elimination these days (see above).

Also, I was thinking about it when I went to Atlanta a few weeks ago to visit my friend, Hizzle, who recently became a homeowner. I think I want to own land in the south. Or at least not New England. I need a place with a yard. Though I'm not huge on yard work (hubby can cut the grass), there's something about having a big yard where you can gaze out from your porch and watch the happenings, or -- later down the road -- a place where my kids can run around and be merry. That's important to me. So, until I find a place I want to be for a while, and a plot with wide open spaces, it'll be the renters life for me.

I'm no longer a mentor.

It was a lot. I liked it when I did it, but i was doing entirely too much. The program is supposed to be guided by the mentee and my mentee never called me. I tried (a few times) to get her to go out with me and I'd take her to lunch every so often, but once she started her internship, she was like peace out. And things got busy for me at work, so I didn't really speak to her again until graduation. I'm pretty bad at keeping in touch with people. People i choose to like, not just people I'm assigned to. So I told the organization I was sitting this round out. They can keep me on the list for maybe another time, but these days, I was like, I'm trying to focus on some other things and I just don't have the time, desire or committment to mentor right now. I do need to find something else to occupy my time that also fortifies the community. I'll work on that.

I still make a fantastic lasagna.

But you'd never know it from the way I've been eating lately. If you pumped my stomach over the last month, you'd likely find that I sustained myself on a steady diet of Subway, Chinese food, pizza and fried chicken in various incarnations. I tried to do better, so I bought some lunchmeat and made sandwiches for lunch, and brought yogurt to eat. But by dinner time, I'd be so tired, I'd just throw on some ramen, or eat some hotdogs (with buns). I need to do better. My manfriend and I need to make thanksgiving dinner (we decided that's something we wanted to do on a random day soon) so that'll be a start. But I don't even know what I'll eat tonight. Hmmm. Maybe I have some salmon I can unthaw.

A trip for Miss Barbara and Setta B

Whew.

It's been a tough weekend. (and yes, I know it's Wednesday)

I just got back yesterday from Atlanta, where I went to be with my sister for her mother's homegoing. The actual service was beautiful. Lots of flowers and laughter and tons of people who came out to show how much they loved Miss Barbara. There were tears, but for most, I think they were just genuinely happy that they had the chance to get to know her while she was here.

I only met Miss Barbara once or twice, but I felt like I knew her well. Whenever she'd be on the phone with my sister and I was in earshot, we'd speak or my sister would pass along messages from her. Even though we didn't talk often, I got the sense that she cared a lot about me. And from the comments made at the service, I see now that was a genuine feeling she gave a lot of people.

While I was there, I kind of helped make sure my sister was okay. She's the responsible one of our clan, sometimes to her detriment. At the repass, I had to remind her to eat and not worry so much about catching up with every single person who walked through the door (though that's important too).

She posted something on her blog that I'm going to copy here for the benefit of those who don't visit her site. Miss Barbara was a single parent, and watching my sis this weekend, there are things that I see I need to make sure my mother does should anything ever happen to her. It won't make the situation easy, but it will make it a little less difficult, I'd hope.

• Have your parent identify where important documents (deed to the house, will, bank account info, life insurance, 401(k), etc.) are kept so you know where to find them.
• Have your parent create a will or simply list out his or her wishes. It will ease so much tension and help to prevent any strife between siblings.
• If your parent recently retired, check with his or her last employer to determine if he or she continued coverage with any of their life insurance providers. If not, his or her last provider may cover your parent for 31 days after the date of retirement. My Mom died 42 days after retirement.
• You need the life insurance information in order to make payments to the funeral home which should account for most of your costs. If your parent retired recently, ask him or her to find out if the new life insurance carrier pays a death benefit in the first 2 years of the policy.
• Find the mortgage information on your mom's or dad's house so you can make sure to pay the mortgage for the next month at least. It may take a while to go through everything and you don't want to run into any issues.
• Talk with your Mom or Dad now to find out how s/he feels about how things should be handled at the funeral. Preferred cemetary? Burial in hometown or current city of residence? Cremation? Celebration or somber occasion? Jewelry to wear?
• Don't do everything alone. Take it from personal experience. It is quite a job to write the funeral program, select the casket, select the burial outfit, determine the order of services, find a church, make notification phone calls, clean up the bedroom, find pallbearers and flower ladies, etc. There is plenty more to do so allow people to help you.

Watching my sister this weekend, I know there are a lot of things I need to do. I think it was the Sunday night, I called my mom and was telling her about the service and I asked her what she wanted to do about her funeral. It's morbid, I know. And I'd avoided talking about it at all costs when she tried to tell me about her insurance or whatever in the past. But after I left Miss Barbara's service, I realized I had no clue what I'd do if something happened to my mom. She's from Mississippi but has lived in Michigan for more than 40 years. I didn't even know where she would want the services held. My mom picked now to be nonchalant.

"I don't care," she said. "Whatever is easiest."

I sigh in the phone. That won't cut it today. I press for more. She suggests Mississippi since most of her family is there. I begin to tell her about the costs for the services (they are upwards of $10,000, not the $5,000 most people assume). She tells me I'm wrong and that it can't be more than $5,000. I think to myself of the hundreds of dollars my sister had to drop on programs alone. She tells me to just put her in a painted box and sell all of her stuff and split the money with my siblings.

In my head, I know it won't be that simple. I've seen the ramifications of it all over the past weekend.

Sigh.

When I get back home, we'll have to sit down and talk about a will, I suppose. Not something I'm looking forward to, but something that needs to be done regardless, I suppose.

Come back to me Bobby Flay

I'm thinking of getting cable.

I cut it off last year in my quest to pinch pennies and save dollars. It worked, too. I have a decent amount saved in my bank account and I've paid off one credit card and one loan. Major accomplishments.

But I'm getting bored. And by proxy, boring.

See, when I had cable, I usually kept it on the Food Network. I'm no Paula Deen, but I loved watching food shows and having illusions of grandeur that one day, I too, could cook a perfect souflee.

I mean, I used cable for other things too. Sports. Saturday afternoon movies. Weather. And, oh yeah, news.

Then my TV went dark. More accurately, it went snowy.

I picked up an electric antenna and learned to watch Heroes through a slightly fuzzy screen. I stopped paying attention to the newest TV craze because I knew that at my South Broadway home, I only got a good 6 channels. And none of them was HBO.

I was helped out a bit by the boyfriend, who is a master downloader. I was able to watch the entire last season of The Wire before people who even had HBO saw the episodes. We'd do the same for Heroes when my TV wouldn't cooperate. (He's currently on a Desperate Housewives kick, which, oddly enough, I'm enjoying as well).

But I kind of miss clear reception.

And cable television.

And Food Network. I really miss Food Network.

Sigh.

I don't know how much longer I can be strong.