Thursday, December 31, 2009

43rd Tuesday...Last Blog of 2009

Dear Readers:

Bear with me when I tell you that I double fist-pumped the air as I typed Last Blog of 2009! Woo-hoo! I am so proud of myself, and as always I thank you. As we proceed to give you what you need, I need you to know that my contacts are a little dry, I'm at a strange pc AND its New Year's Eve. I know its only 7:29, but I am two hard drinks and two beers in, so please bear with me. Don't worry I'm not Drunkedly McDrunk Drunk, nor do I aspire to be so. There is so much I want to wrap up in this blog.

However, (somehow the paragraph does not seem to end right, damn you Jack Danials) I don't have too much time, nor do I have the focus, but I can tell you BEYOND THE SHADOW OF THE DOUBT THAT I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE YOU since I saw the movie that changes the lives of all bloggers, Julie & Julia, or the other way around....

Julie and Julia is the story of an ordinary chick (see me) who decides to start a blog (see me x2) in which she completes all the recipes in the Julia Childs cookbook.
Those of you who know me in my ordinary life know that I love to cook. It only makes sense that someone (oink) who enjoys eating should enjoy cooking. Imagine how excited I was to watch this movie.

It was like watching me. I was played by...Amy Adams..I think. Anyhow, I don't have time to go to one of the greatest sites ever, IMDB (internet movie data base) but I am pretty sure it was Amy Adams. She did a great job playing me. She kept telling her husband (ew..not so much me) that her Readers (thats you guys) would miss her blog.

I can tell you that the one thing that differed with my story and hers is that HER DEAR READERS started sending her gifts. Not gifts like NY&Co cards, but foodie gifts to help complete her recipes. I would say that that sort of thing only happens in movies starring Amy Adams, BUT the movie was based on true events.

mmhmm We are going to just let that tidbit go.

Anyhow, she talked so fondly about her Readers, I feel like she got she gets us.

Oh boy, I have been informed that Spence is here. While I don't know Spence, I do know that I am on a strange pc in someone else's home and the statement "Spence is here!", roughly translates that its time to eat.

I want to return to you, Dear Readers, there is so much more for us to discuss before 2010...but time is running out. I know you don't want me to miss dinner!

You get me, that's why I love you.


Perhaps I will be back before the BALL drops, but if not...I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU FOR VISITING, READING, COMMENTING, MOSTLY LOVING ME! I DON'T COME FROM A TERRIBLE BROKEN HOME, BUT IF I DID, I WOULD FEEL COMPLETED BY MY DEAR READERS! BE CAREFUL, BUT HAVE FUN...if fun means drinking until you puke all over a loved one, I strongly caution you against such base behavior...there are only a few Lovely's in the world that can withstand such pressure.......mmmhmmm.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

42nd Street...I Mean Tuesday, 42nd Tuesday!

Greetings Readers!

Its all about good stuff..that's what IT'S about! I'm in high spirits today and I hope you all are too. We had Secret Santa at work today and I got a gift card to my FAVORITE STORE, NY&Co. Dear Readers who want to earn gold stars, should jot that fact down.

Today I got up and decided that in light of the fact that it is less than 48hrs to my holiday break, I would really dress up to commemorate the occasion. I want to tell you what I'm wearing, however, we all (or you all allow me to believe) that my identity is a secret. I will tell you that I am wearing holiday colors and a big black satin bow in my hair and a big green ribbon around my neck.

I'm like Gossip Girl and Santa had a baby. There is so much on my mind and I am trying to keep things light and airy. This morning I had a momentary blah, but I just looked in a mirror, straightened my satin ribbon and kept on moving.

Life is good, its so good. One of my Dear Readers arrived home safely from a trip yesterday. Welcome back, I hope you received my voicemail.

Uh oh...upset in the ranks of Dear Readers!? I do sometimes pick up the phone. If I have your number, you know that. If I could I would call you ALL tomorrow at 5am to gaily announce, TODAY IS THE LAST TIME I'M WAKING BEFORE 9 UNTIL NEW YEAR!
If you would like that feel free to leave your number at the end of this blog. I.WILL.HOOK.YOU.UP. I have so much work to do, but its so hard under the pressure of ALMOST OFF UNTIL NEXT YEAR.

I must share with you that I was under the impression I was off for two weeks. It feels like it will be two weeks, but I just counted the days and its NOT two weeks. That's ok. That's truly fine. I'm so happy that I will be able to sleep in a little bit. Of course me sleeping in is not the biggest deal. McKinley is up every day at the crack no matter what, and she HATES for anyone to be asleep when she is awake, but I am hoping that her Christmas gifts keep her occupied. I'll probably just offer her a little incentive (read: threat) to keep her quiet.

I have given myself a little end of the year resolution. Typically I don't do resolutions, not for anything grander than I can barely stick to anything, I'm certainly not going to beat myself up for it. Maybe I should not even call this a resolution..a dare..a promise...a challenge...see all those words reek of resolution. Damn. Ok. How about this, I might, just might, NO PRESSURE, not be aggravated until next year. How's that? With every contract there must be the fine print, and in this case, if/when/however I am aggravated, I will SMILE. I will flash a dazzling smile. That's all. I am a firm believer that smiles make you feel better. They do make me feel better.

I smile every time I see a reflective surface--not just a mirror. It may seem silly, but you ought to try it. For those Dear Readers who lack the GOODWILL to send me a NY&Co card, you can do me that one solid for the holidays. Smile. It's not as easy as it sounds, but once you start it gets easier.

I don't care if your smile is that creepy Disneyesque villain smile, still smile. Don't believe that when you smile, the world smiles with you-that's all hype. In fact, you DON'T EVEN know what people are smiling about, but you know what your smile is about and that's good enough.


I'm watching Jersey Shore. Yes, I am. I know you are surprised, me too. I only started watching it because I wanted to see what was so terrible about it. I mean, don't ALL REALITY shows portray people in a prejudiced light? Hello...Baldwin Hills, Real Housewives, Who Wants to Love So and So and Be a Millionaire Matcher Maker TriSexual? Aren't they all the same? I heard that there was such a big deal about Jersey Shore, so I went to see for myself. I am a longtime reality tv follower. I'm a people watcher by heart so it makes sense for me-what's your excuse? So yes, they do a terrible disservice to Italians, but so what? The Real World started it.

Remember, they had the following characters, no matter what:
1. The Angry Black Person (my personal favorite)
2. The Alcoholic (the one who always hopped into the hot tub 1ST)
3. The Gay/Bi/Trans (depending on the season)
4. The Jock (a popular character)
5. The Homo/Black/Phobe (sometimes this was the Jock, some seasons had TWO
PHOBES, the homophobic and the blackphobic)
6. The Good One (the peacemaker)
7. The Nobody (poor casting rears its ugly head)
8. The Whore (could be any of the above or singular sensation)

Since the Real World was such a success, what makes you think that this would not grow? Why can't all the Angry Black Girls have their own show...I might be on that one. Who says all the Nobodies can't enjoy popularity for a minute? As far as the Alcoholic...Intervention is only a few clicks away. I think the only show that would get low ratings would be the The Good One Show. Good just doesn't sell. I'm sorry Good Ones. No one want to play with you, Good Ones.

Dear Readers, its noon and my 180 minute break is sadly over.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Thursday, December 10, 2009

41st Tuesday

Good Day Readers!

What a week, what a month, what a life! I have so much to do yet I keeping getting distracted. I know that there is some way I can blame this on my childhood. Anyway. I will put that on my to do list. Well, I would put it on my to do list if I had such a list. My lists are never really functional and helpful. They are more like Top Ten lists. You are my Dear Reader, you know what I speak of. There are a few things I'd like to cover today, one thing that I find VERY the evening news, I'm going to hold the VERY EXCITING news until the end of the blog to keep you interested.

Don't think I don't know you can just click on down to the end of the blog and skip all the rest, but we have an honor system here. Ok. S'right?

S'right makes me think of one of the greatest old commercials of all time, the Parkay commercials with the talking butter tub. That's all I'm saying about that. If you don't know Warner Wolfe, then you won't know what I'm talking about. I'm sorry that I am in my EARLY thirties and I spent a huge part of my life watching television, lol'ing away.

Lol'ing: the act of laughing out loud. I'm using my poetic justice pull as a blogger to add that to our (you + me = our) vocabulary. Feel free to use it anywhere you like. I won't take credit for it, one of my Dear Readers mentioned it on her FB. This Dear Reader is the super smart graduate that I told you about many blogs ago. Who are we to deny a super smart graduate the right to make her own words? Its not like its something ridiculous like sniglicaboque for bread. I would never co-sign on any such made up word. Sniglicaboque? Even I have my limits. I think its perfectly acceptable to add on to words, providing you are not using your new words in something important like a you hear me super smart graduate? Don't go around making up ridiculous words and utilizing them in important reports and blaming me.

Blaming me....I'm flashbacking...when I was in 3rd grade, a little misunderstood kid in catholic school (who knew?), I had a friend named "Weisha". As in We should never call her Kiesha, because maybe she won't want to be part of my blog. One day Weisha observed me feeding the pigeons puffy cheese doodles. Don't ask me how I was so independently wealthy to throw perfectly good puffy cheese doodles at birds. I think I was just lonely. Anyway Weisha was so fascinated by this that she asked if she could feed the birds. I told her to bring money the next day and we can feed them together. Dear Readers, is this starting to sound dangerous? Not yet? mmhmmm.
The next day I was called to the office (here comes the danger). Weisha, her mother and Sr. Whatzit were sitting in the office. Weisha was crying, her mother was fuming and the nun was NOT surprised that I was apparently behind this. Care to guess what happened? Turns out Weisha was so happy about feeding time on Hoe Avenue that she decided to go into her mother's bag for the money. I don't know how many bags of puffy doodles this chick thought we were going to buy because she took $100! All of this is almost slapstick, almost like the Facts of Life until you hear the punchline. Me. I was the punchline. Weisha confessed that I TOLD her that she better bring money if she wanted to feed the pigeons.

I think that's when the blogger was born. I talked my way out of that like it was nobody's business. All I needed was a choir behind me. I had to think fast on my feet, lose my shyness and defend myself.

I don't know what happened to Weisha. I was off the hook, her mother got her $100 back and the nun went back to counting pretzel money and praying. Weisha and I never really became friends, with her being stone cold crazy and whatnot.

Anyway, I'm happy I have all of you!

Oh the good I am having second thoughts...stay tuned! Ha! I don't want to lose you right before the holidays, I'm happy to think that we will be together. I can tell you that there are some changes a'brewing and I don't mean my hair!

You get me, that's why I love you.

Lola aka Puffy Cheese Doodle Pimp Mama

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

40th Tuesday - Good Morning, Good Morning to You, Its Our Favorite Love Song......

Dear Readers,

Ewwww winter! I am not a winter person. Yes, I am a winter baby, but like most babies I certainly did not ask to be born, much less at the end of February.

I'm in a mood to talk about my mornings. I feel like you need to know every aspect of my mundane life. You are still reading, so perhaps you agree. For you smarty pants Readers, don't think I don't know that you are right about....hold on...there...rolling your eyes. I roll mine too. I always try to get to bed at a decent hour, but I am too multitask. I bet you can tell that by my steller tangents.

Every story has a beginning, so its not fair to talk mornings until we talk nights. Ooo la, I am not about to tell you anything about that aspect of my evenings. Sorry. I put the Patterson and McKinley to bed at 8pm. That is when my evening officially starts. Between 8 and midnight, I do all or some of the following in no specific order or fashion:

internet surf
facebook stalk
plan meals
watch tv
doze off
clip recipes
get on and off the scale
talk on the phone to my Lovely
obsess about snacking
blog about procrastinating
obsess about my need for a pedicure

To last night, you can add in unclog the toilet. Patterson clogged the toilet and then McKinley had a nosebleed. I'm not saying anything else. Feel very sorry for me.

This morning was like any other morning. I tend to get up really relaxed maybe too relaxed. Since we have to be on time most of the time, the morning is more structured. Mmhmm yeah, structured.

4:55: Open one eye and squint at the time
5am: Best alarm tone EVER, John Legend crooning good morning
5:10 on with the news and out of the bed

From 5:10-6:10 I have my hour to wash the dishes, water the plants, make coffee, shower, get dressed, tap the hamster tank, hop on the scale, check my email, make my breakfast and sometimes meals for the day, and be pissed off at my closet.

Throughout that hour, everytime I pass the kids' room I try to wake them up. I usually start off really nice, like the best alarm tone EVER, Mr. John Legend. They don't respond to that and I have to get a little hood on them. McKinley always asks for five more minutes, little does she know that I just call her five minutes earlier, so I don't feel it. McKinley always gets up first and easy. Patterson is like rousing the dead. Typically by 6:17, I'm bellowing and threatening him with all types of bodily harm.

Between 6:30-6:40, I've had it. I'm threatening everyone, including poor McKinley who does not deserve it. I have to go through the checklist: bookbags, keys, turn off the lights, keys, hats, jackets, TURN OFF THE LIGHTS...

The three of us walk about two blocks together and we go our separate ways. It does not matter how much yelling, tooth sucking or eye rolling has gone on, we always hug and kiss goodbye.

They are my kids and I love them. I may not LIKE them all the time, but I love them.

I love you too, and I don't know you well enough to dislike you. Does that make sense?

You get me, that's why I love you.


Sunday, November 29, 2009

37th-39th Tuesday Thanksgiving Edition - Slightly Imperfect

Dear Readers,

Should I just address this to one Dear Reader, because I am almost positive that you are all tired of my untimely schedule. Listen (read). I don't want to write just to write. Granted I do have something to say every single day, I just tend to run out of time. I'm so sorry. How was your holiday? I cooked, but nothing spectacular, unless you consider stuffed mushrooms and/or macaroni and cheese with bacon and sauteed onions spectacular.

I miss talking to you, I swear. Even at this moment, its not the best time for a blog. We are waiting for my Lovely's parents to arrive from Florida. They are battling Thanksgiving traffic and we are just sitting. If anything I am blogging because I have all this nervous energy. I don't know....OMG THE BELL!!

I'm sorry Dear Readers, but the PARENTS are here. I have to post this because I never start a blog without posting. I have to go, so we can eat soup. There was jumping and hugging and tearing and happy family all around.

Now it feels like Thanksgiving.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Friday, November 13, 2009

36th Tuesday, Unfinished Business As Is

Dear Readers,

How are you? Good Shabbos! What you didn't know? Well now you do. I know that I was going to continue with the 35th Tuesday, since it got all heady and all, but I don't feel like it. One of the great things about a blog that I am unpaid for is that I get to blog about what I want. Now until someone starts writing me a check, it is what it is.

I'll have you know that it is the end of my workday and I have a task to complete. This is a task that I can complete at home, but I've had weeks to do it and now I am bordering on procrastinating. I'm blogging to you Dear Readers for two reason, 1)I owe you, 2)You wake up my creativity. I thank you.

Remember many blogs ago when I mentioned that I wish there was Dear Reader Mail? Well, one of my Followers is a very good friend of mine and she (along with others) who are privy to my personal email do email me when the blog so moves them to. You too, can email me, all you need to do is become a Follower of my blog and you can do all sorts of stuff. Its way cool, not as cool as IMDB, but pretty darn close. Somewhere around this page will show you how to do it, if the emails start pouring in, I know that you did the right thing. Whom amongst us would neglect to do the right thing, right Mr. Lee?

Last weekend I had a birthday dinner for my youngest sister and of course I cooked everything. The menu was very nice and actually saved by my Lovely. My overachieving self was ready to cook everything, but she reined me in. The final menu was as follows: cheesy sausage dip, mango & avocado salad, fried macaroni & cheese balls, tossed salad, lime cilantro shrimp, garlic fingerlings and slow-roasted chicken. Are your eyes still stuck on fried macaroni & cheese balls? If you are in the majority, they must be.

My Lovely suggested the balls as opposed to my regular stuffed mushrooms. Initially I was excited to make something different, especially since I thought it would be less time intensive than the mushrooms. Boy was I wrong. The full recipe can be found here: The link is not highlighting for some reason, probably there is some freaking copyright issue. Whatever man. Now if you read the recipe you will see that the recipe is actually an overnight prep. You need to make the mac & cheese, cool it in the fridge, make balls (I used a small ice cream scoop), lay them out on a tray and freeze them overnight. The next day, you egg wash, bread crumb and fry. That sounds hella easy, except for the fact that I started cooking late, so by the time the ballation was supposed to go down, I fell asleep. My Lovely was kind enough to call, waking me up and then Patterson was so kind to help me.

I can tell you that I was one pissed off baller. OMG. There is little more annoying to wake from a peaceful warm sleep to start balling up cold macaroni & cheese in the cruel lighting of my kitchen. Ohhhh I was cursing those balls out something fierce. A good cook cooks with love, I was homicidal. I don't know how no one choked on the balls the next day, I was spewing some real bad vibes all over that dish. Patterson kept me sane and even microwaved some coffee to perk me up.

When and if you make this dish, be real easy with the frying oil. Be mindful that the cheeses already have oil and if you overdo the frying oil, the balls will be too greasy. I had some leftovers, this dish was an appetizer and the average guest ate about three. I had enough leftover to fry some for a fellow cook a few days later, send her home with a ziploc bag of some frozen ones for home, AND bring some to work for my staff. I also found that the balls could just as easily be put in a bowl frozen, then microwaved for a quick meal. That's what the kids had for dinner one night, mac & cheese and spinach.

So while the prep is a bit time consuming, the final product is good enough that I would do it again.

That concludes the Cooking With Lola segment. If you try this recipe, let me know.

Naturally all this food talk reminds me that I need to carry myself to the gym. The last time I looked at the gym schedule was to push it and its magnet out of the way so that I could open the fridge for a piece of cake. I'm not kidding. That's how I do. I even highlighted the classes that I want to take, knowing damn well that I am WAY too shy and uncoordinated for a gym class. I might, MIGHT, take a class, simply to come back and blog my findings. At least its research and the embarrassment will be minimal. I hope. Stay tuned, but don't hold your breath for that madness.

Oh hell to the naw...a very close friend just texted me. She only texted me "Yooooooooooo". Clearly she has forgotten that I have a pitifully small text package on my phone and that is truly a waste. I would give her a piece of my mind right here, but I know she will never get around to reading my blogs. I won't respond to her, because that will be another text on my part and she will likely text me right back despite my plea to cut it out. I love her, but damn woman.

I really have to go. The weekend is here and I need to get the kids together to go AWAY from me so that I can help my Lovely with a few projects. I was kind of killing time, hoping to get a ride, but alas, that is not in the cards for your heroine today.

I have to make moves. You get way more attention than my personal blog. I love her, and I want to write, but I keep her in my by the time I'm pulling her out for some real therapeutic writing, I'm dozing off-or not...insert eyebrow wagging here. I need to keep her in a more active area-like at work! IMDB and you don't keep me busy enough on the clock.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Tuesday, November 3, 2009

The Real 35th Tuesday/Julie Newmar & Unfinished Projects

Good Morning Readers,

I did not go to the gym last night. Nope. An opportunity knocked and I answered. Ok? I know you don't judge me and if you do, I'd never know since Dear Reader Mail has never taken off.

Like everyone else in the world I have a Yahoo account. The standard signature on all of my outgoing mail is a quote from a movie, television show or song. I don't know how long I've done the quotes, but in the beginning I would change it frequently so that the recipient of the email would have a little bonus at the end. This is just that type of person I am. heh. Anyhow, I wanted to change my quote today to something from the Swayze movie when he plays Vida, the drag queen. You've probably seen the movie, To Wong Foo With Love, Julie Newmar.

I find all my movie quotes at Internet Movie Database ( I'm not on their payroll, but I strongly suggest you check it out. Just please check it out at home, because if you check while at work, you will NOT GET A THING DONE. After I found my quote, I read through some of the trivia regarding the movie, which led me to look up the actress Julie Newmar. Two of her quotes, caused me to look up her fan site:

I'm magnificent! I'm 5'11" and I weigh 135 pounds, and I look like a racehorse.

Tell me I'm beautiful, it's nothing. Tell me I'm intellectual - I know it. Tell me I'm funny and it's the greatest compliment in the world anyone could give me.

Alright. Dear Readers, Julie Newmar if you don't know (I didn't) was the Catwoman in 1966's Batman. Oh hell..she was fine then and she is fine now. She is in her 70's now and I would gladly trade my curves for hers. Now, don't get me wrong-I have no desire to look like a racehorse, but I'm just saying. I'm nearly 5'11" and at my smallest (yes smallest)my fighting weight (I love that expression) was 158lbs. At 158lbs I looked like I was one missed breakfast from a praying mantis. Everyone has their own personal Julie Newmar, by my definition your own personal Julie Newmar is where you reach that KA-POW status.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a brick house, its just that some of my rooms are too packed with furniture, and I'm not as svelte as I'd like to be. My personal Julie Newmar is 165lbs. That's where I want to be.

As far as her second quote, I feel the same way. I've come a long way from my ugly duckling status. I've always been intelligent. I love being funny. I love that I crack myself up. I love that I don't need anyone to laugh for me to feel good. I don't try to be funny, but I am. A guy on Facebook whom I know from school said that the hardest thing about being the "funny guy" is that people are always waiting for the punchline. Those are not his exact words, but I don't really care because I have better chance of Ellen reading this to Portia as she twitters it, than that random guy from school seeing it.

That reminds me, my daughter McKinley was shocked that there are other celebrity lesbian actresses besides Helen (Ellen) and her famous girlfriend. Am I being lax as a lesbian mom? Maybe I should give her a list of prominent gays in America. I know I was pressured when McKinley and Patterson were young to educate them on prominent Blacks and Latinos. Did I say too much? Listen, my way of educating McKinley was to make sure all of her dolls looked like her. I also tried to push That's So Raven on her instead of Hannah Montana. As far as Patterson, one afternoon in the employee cafe I was showing off pictures of him and someone asked me how I planned on raising my Black son to be a Black man. Wot? Does this story need to be punctuate by the fact that the woman who asked is a Black woman who was always angry about something? She was the Angry Black Girl character from all the Real World shows. I asked her what she meant and she told me that since I can "pass", what was I going to teach him about his color?

Dear Readers, I am charged with raising children of Black and Latino descent on my own as a Black Latino you know how much that is, a real mouthful. Don't get me wrong, my story is no longer, nor more important than anyone else's, but its mine-therefore important to me, at least.

I do the best that I can. As a woman, I have to teach my daughter to be a strong woman and teach my son to be a strong man. Both have to have some sort of cultural influence...I'm not big on organized religion so I can be easy on that. I know that there will never be a picture of the Last Supper in my home..not the blond blue-eyed version, nor the wooly-haired version. What am I supposed to do? Hang a picture of Martin Luther King next to Ellen Degeneres next to Edwin Torres? Should I have flash cards? OMG..the thought of it is overwhelming, even more overwhelming is that this blog was supposed to be lighthearted and about a pin-up queen and now LOOK. Gosh.

I wear myself out. I wonder how you, Dear Readers, positively influence your children. I bought my son a Cabbage Patch Doll and everyone in my family was mortified. I thought it was a great gift. When my daughter was about 3, she was looking at pictures of herself in the presence of my sister. McKinley was pointing out how pretty she looked in a picture and said that she looked so pretty, just like a lesbian. I'm surprised my sister did not stuff her in a duffel and run away with her.

Ugh. There is responsibility calling...I don't feel right ending this blog like this. I hate that I start projects and never end them..although hating it does not prevent me from repeating the behavior.

That being said, this blog will be considered unfinished business until it comes up again.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Monday, November 2, 2009

Thirty-Fifth Tuesday/Its Only Monday, People

Hello Readers,

You must think I have loads of time on my hands. I actually don't..contrary to popular belief I have a job. I swear.

Before I get into the reason for this blog, as if we need a I am going to the gym. Really. I swear. I packed my clothes and everything. I really have to get on my grind...or someone's grind. I woke up this morning with a new resolve...really. Is it foolhardy to make a fitness resolve on the first Monday after Halloween, a mere four weeks before Thanksgiving? Yes it is. Am I that type of rebel? Yes I am. As I sit here still sucking bits of snickers from my back teeth, I swear. I'm psyched. I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'. Tomorrow, if I feel up to it after I PUMP MYSELF UP, I will fill you in on the Five People I Met In The Gym.

Yesterday, my Lovely asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I didn't have an answer for her. At the time, I didn't think it was a big deal, I figured I would just think about it. During my thinking time, this morning between 6:05 and 6:17, I realized what a travesty this really is. Do you know why, Dear Readers, I cannot decide what I want for Christmas?

First of all, the biggest culprit of them all: PARENTHOOD. Yes, I said it. As a parent, when asked what I want for Christmas, I first think of what my children want, then onto what they need...sometime at the end of this mind debilitating process, I think about what I need, which ties into nicely what they need. Here is an example..hmm the kids could use a new dictionary, I could use a Barnes & Noble gift card...see?! Isn't that some ish? Are my senses dulled so much that I can barely see what I might want/need without the seeing the world through the thick, heavy, black-rimmed glasses of PARENTHOOD?

Second of all, and this is the small culprit: I'm not used to getting what I ask for as opposed to what I get. My Lovely loves lists, so here is a list...the first column is what I asked for, the next is what I got...I'm not going to bore you with the ages, I don't remember anyway.

1. GEM doll (Gem, Gem is my Name).......Roxy
2. A flute.....................a plastic recorder
3. An Etch A Sketch.............a Lite Bright
4. An Easy Bake Oven.............PlayDoh Spaghetti Head
5. Ms. Pacman Game...............Mr. Potato Head Doll
6. A leather jacket.............a blue husky coat from Fingerhut
7. Reeboks....................Ellese

I'm sure that there is more, but those are the items that really stood out to me over the years. The Roxy doll was the most disappointing. Even the blue husky coat from Fingerhut had big enough husky pockets for me to carry a book, furthering my Nerddom.

Here is the tear jerker portion of our time together today, what I really want for Christmas is a hug from my grandmother. Of course she is long gone, all of my grandparents are gone. I miss them terribly. Sometimes I feel panicked that I am forgetting her voice or her touch, but usually I am blessed enough to dream of her. Dear Readers, we are going to let this part of the blog go before I start weeping all over my keyboard, not a pretty sight.


Ok. I have a lot of wants, but I know that I need to separate my wants from my needs. I don't really want world peace, I'm not sacrificing enough to wish for such a grand thing. Can I say sacrificing or do I say sacrificial? Hmm. World peace would be nice and leave something good for my kids and my grandkids, I again worrying about WHAT THEY NEED/WANT? See what I mean? Sucks to be me. I still have a bit of a weep in the back of mind because now I am fixated on my grandma. Crap. This is no way to brainstorm gifts.

Here is my list of selfish all about me forget the rest of the world gifts:
1. Cowboy boots (no spurs necessary)
2. Super cool phone because I'm tired of having the same phone as the 5th graders because OMG its so cool, you can change the color by clicking off the cover, my fave is the red, what's yours, Miss?
3. Spa pedicure the one that they use things I would never waste like buttermilk, sugar and no less than two people working on my feet and one extra to pass me a appletini.
4. An amazing everyday bangle, almost museum like that I would never buy for myself, but totally care for if it were a gift because I would be terrified to lose it.
5. Liposuction (its my list).
6. Roller blades with lessons, or maybe the lessons first so that they don't end up under my bed with the hula hoop.
7. Free Cablevision (see parenthesis #5).
8. A new digital camera, since mine is so yesterday.
9. The Catcher in the Rye, for the "keep" side of my bookshelf.
10. Sephora gift card, so that I can let go of all those empties in my closet.

Whew. Readers, I really had to squeeze out the last two on my list. Thank you for helping me with the process. I appreciate you, Dear Readers, I really do. To my Lovely's credit, she made me cry last year by giving me the Complete Peanuts Holiday Collection of DVDs. I don't know how she can top that. Please no one try to rouse Ms. Katherine Mendez from the DDD (Dearly Departed Department) because as much as I love my grandma, there's no need for any Stephan King up in here. I will be SO PISSED IF THERE IS A ZOMBIE GRANDMA at the table this year. I'm not kidding. Don't do me any favors. She was not happy about my lesbianism then, I doubt the afterlife has given her a better prospective.

Speaking of lesbianism and the dead, Bea Arthur left $300,000 in her will to a New York organization that aids homeless gay youth.

The Ali Fornay Center provides services to more than 1,000 each year, and is planning to buy a building to house 12 young people - and name it in honor of the "Golden Girls" actress.

Read more:

I think that's just lovely.

That's a beautiful thing and makes me want to watch The Golden Girls all over again, which could happen with #7 on my list. Please don't go out and buy me any seasons of The Golden Girls on DVD-I will not watch them enough and I am not long in the tooth enough to own that series. If you plan on getting me The Golden Girls, you might as well throw in the first season of The Price Is Right, if there is such a series. Just put the frosting, lock and key on my seniorism.

You get me, that's why I love you,


Tuesday, October 20, 2009

32nd OK FINE 33rd Tuesday

Hello Readers....

I can't put anything past you, right? Just so you know it is 3pm Tuesday and while I could be fleeing for the hills, I choose you. Hmmm..I choose you reminds me of something...I CHOOSE YOU, SPEEDRACER...maybe. I don't know. Feel free to drop me a FB post should you 1)be a Dear Reader, 2)have a Facebook, and 3)actually know me on said FB. First things first...I had to answer a rather stupid question yesterday and I thought to myself how cool it would be if I had a VOICE. I don't mean a voice voice, duh I have that...imagine if I were a mute I mean a VOICE. In the car the other day (never mind you, what car) a child was playing with an iPhone. The app that she was playing with was a voice scrambler thingie. I wish I had an internal voice scrambler. That way, when someone asks me a stupid question, instead of me responding in my regular LolaTone, I could say almost menacing..."WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU SHOULD DO??!!". I think I would use my powers mostly for good like, when the kids do something that I don't like..."GO TO BED RIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHHHHHHHT NOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!". For the kids I would need a special echo maker, so that I could be uber ominous. I could go on forever, but I'll let you be, seeing as its never going to happen.

Did I mention to you the looooong email that I wrote to an old friend? I think I did a few blogs ago. Well that old friend has morphed to no friend. It hurts, but not as much as it hurt to watch the friendship dwindle to nothing. Do you understand what I mean? I rather it be over than watch the wreck that it was becoming. I find it hard to believe that there is someone who rather not be my friend, but I also wish for internal voice scrambler powers, so what the hell do I know? I'm going to hold on to the good memories of the friendship and not dwell on the sad. Pardon me if I revisit now and then, its only natural. Like my hair....on to the next....

My hair is currently too short. Naturally curly hair is something I had to learn to embrace but my naturally curly hair is just too short. There is only so much that I can do with it and still look like a member of society. Between you and I, I rather it wild and all over the place...but it does not do me well. Contrary to popular belief I don't sit in Starbucks all day, dressed in purple, blogging away. I have a very regular job and I have to look a certain way. It took me years to conform to matching socks, so I am a work in progress, to say the least. Today I have a scarf folding into a headband to keep everything where it should be. Without this scarf my hair would be HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRR...instead of what it should be, hair. I love it. I just need it to grow maybe an inch more and it will be back to where I need it to be. Yesterday I had it completely covered in the scarf. That morning, I washed it and tied it down, the LazyLola way of getting some control. I thought it looked fine, until one of my staff came in...and in a "woman of a certain age" proclaimed, "get that off your head!". I realize that that was disrespectful and maybe if I were a different Lola I would have pimp smacked her, but she is reeeeeeeaaaaaaallllllyy passport picture in coal on stone old and I just snickered and went about my day. This is the same old crone that calls me by my first name because she "can never pronounce Latina names". I think its because she knew Coco Chanel in elementary school, therefore refusing to call some infant Ms. Anything.

Whatever, Readers, you just have to let some things go. I let things go. To some, I may let things go to far, but in progress here. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, but I cannot remember. I bet if I actually blogged weekly instead of faking the funk every other week, I would not be going through this. It is what it is, right?

Sometimes I wish I could see you when you read my blogs. Dear Readers, I want you to know that I appreciate your attention to the dire straits of my life. LOL. I'm kidding, my dire straits are no more dire than your own. Everyone has their something...and your something is the most urgent to you. I respect that. I remember!! Pikachu! I choose you, Pikachu...smh.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Tuesday, October 6, 2009

31st Tuesday

Good Morning Readers,

I have to tell you that you are exhale worthy. I've got stuff going on, I mean stuff and its such a relief for Tuesday to roll around and I know you appreciate me. I appreciate you too.

I don't really have anything fascinating to share with you today. I just finished writing a loooooong email to an old friend. That email has left me winded to say the least. I always try my best to please everyone, but honestly that is getting tired and real, real old. The less that I promise, the more peaceful I feel. Do you know how many promises I make to myself that fall on my own deaf ears? Well if I can't even hold my own word to myself, how can I afford to make promises to anyone else?

Same for you. Don't even set yourself up. You can set yourself to meet expectations set by others, or you can make up your own expectations. Its not as painful when you fail your own expectations. You can forgive yourself. When you fail others, you work (or at least I do)so damn hard to make up and fix things that you miss other things. I'm babbling because I've spent the last hour writing and the last hours since Sunday trying to improve situations. Sometimes you need to put yourself in a time out. Just stop. Just stop. At the end of the day, its just you.

Arrrgh. This is not a blog I want to write. This is not a blog I want to write because I don't know if my spirit is here and I don't want to use you. Oh wait. This is not a blog I want to write reminds me of the most amazing collaboration ever between two singers. Way back when I thought my life was so complicated (read:teens) there was a song recorded by Madonna and Prince. I want to say the name of the song was Love Song. I don't recall ever hearing it on the radio and I'm not sure if it was on his CD or hers. Let me tell you, mesmerizing. Nevermind that I was truly head over heels in lust with the BOTH of them, their voices together was pun intended music to my ears. I wonder what ever happened to that song?

And that, Dear Readers, is how to blog. To blog is to let your mind take your fingers from key to key. It is at the very least the most refreshing exhalable thing ever. Nevermind that I get to make up words like exhalable...its my poetic licsense.

Speaking of refreshing, I have not had time to write in my personal blog, since my personal life is happening and unlike OTHER PEOPLE (1) WHO WILL REMAIN NAMELESS I have to make time to address issues that effect my life. I have to be selfish. I have to save a little for me. With two children and a Lovely, I have only but so much time for everything else. I make time to write, because this is the time I choose to have for myself. No one can take this away from me.

Alright, enough about me, what about you? What do you love about me? Challah!! Imagine if I was such an attention whore to assume that everyone's life revolves around me. You know, children believe that everything revolves around them, but unfortunately, some adults have trouble letting go of that process. You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you, whoa...that lyric has spoken to me time and time again. I wish it could be my ringtone sometimes.

Ugh, I just recieved a phone call...briiiiiing briiiiiiing life and responsibility calling....unfortunately I can't put this on hold. Thank you for understanding, and I look forward to speaking to you again. Really, the phone is ringing. Don't miss the call.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Tuesday, September 29, 2009

30th Tuesday...You Can't Beet A Donation with A Ramen Noodle

Good Morning Readers:

So I am at a place where anybody can get away with anything as long as they make a donation. For every question that I have, the answer is always, oh, they/he/she made a donation. Hmmm…the message that I am receiving is: with a donation you can pretty much do whatever you want, whenever you want. I guess its donation talks, bullshit ceases and deceases. Funny as I type this, my laptop shut down sending me on a frantic search for a power source. Perhaps if I made a donation, I would not have such a problem.

I’m sorry Readers, maybe this is too heady for the early morning, but how do I know you are even reading this in the early morning? Its just morning for me, 7:31. I just felt the need to mention this to you. This reminds me of when we were kids; we were enrolled in private school. Maybe I should call it Donation School. In Donation School there was a donation for everything. Shoot, did I say donation again, I mean to say tuition. Right. So we were taught to love everyone and everything except of course homosexuals, liars, killers (the ones who believed in abortion) fornicators, bad kids (the ones who didn’t honor their parents), and thieves, the list goes on and on. I don’t know how I managed to forget since the list of sinners was drilled into my head.

I remember my mother, being poor who by default made me poor, could not always afford the tuition. I don’t know if she couldn’t afford it or it was lost in the purchase of Newports, Bonton chips and Diet Pepsi. All I know is that our school breaks were longer than all the other kids, because read above, donation or in this case, tuition talked. Yes Readers, our private school would not allow us to attend if the tuition was past due. What did this mean for us? This meant every morning during our extended vacation we would dress in our uniform, grab our heavy backpacks and walk to our aunt’s home. You have no idea how heavy those Sinners and How to Condemn Them textbooks were. We spent our time there watching TV, eating Ramen, reading True Love and dozing on her always open sofa bed. At about 2, we would pick up our untouched backpacks and go home.

I don’t remember why we would not just stay home. My mother was an at home mom most of the time. I want to say that my mother didn’t want the neighbors to know that we were tuition strapped drop-outs but I think it was bigger than that. I have a feeling my grandmother and/or stepfather was helping to pay the tuition but somewhere between my mother and the school something went wrong. I don’t think my mother wanted to deal with their scrutiny or actually with my stepfather’s wrath. That is so another blog. Really, you don’t want any of that here…I’m talking burning bed ish.

I say all this to say…that I really can’t say anymore. I may have to save some of this for my private journal. I don’t mean to cheat you, Dear Readers, but I draw the line at insulting anyone’s theological beliefs. My problem, and I have one, is with the message that is sent. From an early age we all are taught about the value of money, but it’s not the good kind of values like truth, compassion and good food vs. fast food crap. The value that we are taught is that everything has a price and you pay it anyway you can even if it means sacrificing yourself to the wrath of an angry partner whose values are nothing of merit.

Oh boy, I think I need some Disneyesque butterflies. Really, I’m sorry. I would delete this all and start from scratch, but that to me, would be the equivalent of lying to you. You deserve my honesty. You could have also stopped reading paragraphs ago, but you are still here and I appreciate it. If you stayed this long you need something pretty to carry with you today which brings me to THE MOST AMAZING THING I COOKED THIS WEEKEND. Cue the game show music, Bob. Two weekends ago, my son Patterson and I went to the farmers market. Among other things, we bought some dusty beets. I have never cooked with fresh beets before and I don’t really buy the canned ones. I’m not a beeter. I’ve been hearing about how great they are for you and at only $2 a dusty bunch; I figured what did I have to lose. I also bought little green pumpkins which are important to this story, so don’t be forgetting. Heh-heh, it tickles me when I purposefully jack up my grammar. Now for the first time in Tuesdays With Lola, I present to you, a ……….blog’cipe!

Cut up some onions and garlic and brown in a little oil. While the onion and garlic is browning, get your beet on. LOL!! Deleave (behead, whatever) the beets and then peel them. Keep the leaves; you can use them another time. You will need a good veggie peeler; I don’t know what they do to the canned beets to make them so pliable, because those heifers are like dusty rocks in their natural state.

Slice the beets as thin as you can, this will help with the cooking. Do not be alarmed when you look like a straight up killer, beets are very, very “bloody”. You will feel like Johnny Depp in that dark movie about the barber. Take one bouillon cube or even a half because they are very salty and toss it in with the onions and garlic. Introduce the beets and mix about. The onions and garlic may not be too happy to see the beets, but in a second e’rybody in that pan is going to be beet red and thus all get along. Introduce 2½ cups of water, bring to a boil and get the party started. Once its boiling, top it and let it simmer. It’s going to need to simmer for a while, so let it be and go watch Tyra or better yet read a blog.

I did not go and read a blog, I pulled out the aforementioned pumpkins and gutted them with the now beet red knife. I made little pumpkin bowls and put them in the oven at I guess 350 for the duration of the beet boiling. I say I guess because my stove does not have knobs. I am that sweet a chef, I don’t need knobs.

Once your beets, onions and garlic are nice and soft, let them cool. If you don’t have anymore liquid in the pot, you messed up. Damn. You need liquid. Anyway…pour the whole mix into a blender and puree. Oh it’s going to be a crime scene, what with the crimson red beets, but hold on. Remember the pumpkin bowls? You don’t have to do this part; I just thought it was cool. Carefully remove the pumpkins from the oven and pour the beet soup in. Place it carefully…I cannot stress how truly careful you have to be…back in the oven for a little while. You can bring the temperature down.

Now for the fun part…did I mention that you should have a dinner guest? Plate the souped up pumpkins and top with the pumpkin top, so it just looks like a regular pumpkin. Chances are the beet soup is going to drip over the edge of the pumpkin a bit. That’s fine. It looks cooler. Presentation is the first thing that someone notices. Your dinner guest, in my case my Lovely and her Work Wife (another blog) were, dare I say intrigued. They even took pictures. What a compliment. The colors alone were pleasing and the soup was delicious. They didn’t know right off what it was…they had to “place” the taste. It was awesome and fun to eat. Food should be fun. Eat what you like, if food that comes in a greasy box is fun for you, than go for it, but don’t miss the fun part. They could have eaten the pumpkin bowls too, but the soup was very filling and once the pumpkin bowls are empty they revert back to their boring pumpkin state. Did you see anyone celebrating Cinderella’s carriage once it turned back into a rat-drawn pumpkin? No.

I’m trying to think if there is anything else I meant to tell you. The weekend was long, but now it feels short since I’m back to the most fabulous job ever. My Lovely and I moved the living room around this weekend and it looks great. I have a load of books to get rid of and since no one on Craigslist bought my AquaHoop, I guess maybe I will post the books. I can’t believe no one wants a weighted hula hoop. Whatever. I finally clipped recipes out of my vintage 2006-Present magazine collection so that I can toss those dust mamas out. Que mas?

I am really sitting here trying to recall the whole weekend. I didn’t work out worth a damn unless you count moving furniture, clipping recipes and watching Boat Trip on my fainting couch. OMG….BOAT TRIP. The movie was ok; you will NEVER eat a banana the same way. What happened with that one banana was quite obvious but transcends all lines and there is NO ONE that will remain untouched to say the least after the banana scene. I don’t care who you are. Whew. I’m going to leave on this note. Readers, I think you are fabulous, the Khloe Kardasian wedding was just as real as the show and I can’t watch the news anymore because I am scared of people who buy bulk nail polish remover.

You get me, that’s why I love you.


Thursday, September 24, 2009

Twenty-9th Tuesday or at Least the Last Three Smushed Together

Whoa! Good Morning Readers:

Please don't bust my chops, we have a lot to cover today. When last we spoke I was on the cusp of celebrating my 2nd anniversary with My Lovely. I want to say that I was in so deep in the throes of love and romance that I could not get to you, but that would be an untruth. Yes I was, we still are deep in the TL&R but the real reason is I was super busy.

-This is the pause for you to get a hold of yourself-

Yes Readers, I do get busy. I told you that I am in a new district and I'm loving it. I really feel like I have a lot to accomplish every single day, but it is such a better feeling than just sitting at a desk..BUELLER BUELLER BUELLER..that is how I felt in the other place...which will remain unnamed. You won't get me to gossiping and trash talking, at least not on a public forum. Ok, I'm going to try to cover things in order, but you know me well.

If you have a real gripe, you ought to speak to My Lovely who took it upon herself to gift me a PERSONAL JOURNAL. Personal as in, only I write in it, only I read you know how distracting that is? I love you for reading, I swear, but honestly, when I write in my PERSONAL JOURNAL, I don't have to censor ANYTHING. Oh I'm a real rebel with misspellings and curse words and doodles and everything! It takes a special person to be able to unleash the mighty pen (yes I'm actually writing)all over PERSONAL pages and return to a public blog.

I'm only back because I missed you. I'm not cheating on you, because I only give my PJ a page or two every couple of days. Ok? PJ is so seductive and alluring, with her cool grey suede cover and sexy rope tie thingie...whew, I can barely talk about her right now. don't bring sand to the beach, right? So yesterday, which was probably Day 13 of OMGGOTTAGETBACKTOMYREADERS, I received a FB message from someone asking how to subscribe to my blog. The thought of a new Dear Reader while my lazzzy a#$ is nearly three blogs behind truly woke me up. How dare I?

Now on the to MOST AMAZING THING I READ IN THE PAPER the other day. Bear in mind that it was only amazing to me and by no way am I the end all to amazing news, or maybe I am....LAT: Living Apart Together! It is exactly what it sounds like..couples who choose to live apart while maintaining a relationship. I don't just mean long distance someday over the rainbow couples. I mean real honest to sliced bread couples who are even married and live separately. How cool is that? I know some of you Readers may be rolling your eyes, but just think about it. Do you REALLY need to live with someone to love them? Let's just think about a scenario, just random, no ONE in particular. Beautiful Dreamer is in her 30's. She is deeply involved with Organized Controlled Dear. Dreamer is a little chaotic and does not feel too moved by a little dust or even a mismanaged dust bunny. Dreamer likes to keep late nights and leave her things where they may fall. Dear is very, very organized (which is great) and can tell immediately upon arriving home if her home has been breached by so much a leaf, while Dreamer could probably fall asleep with the KILLER in her bedroom closet. Dear strongly believes that everything has a place and every place has a thing and ne'er should the two meet, especially in a place like a miscellaneous drawer.

Dreamer and Dear could totally live together happily ever after without too many issues...or they can live apart together in happy bliss...going to their separate homes and here and there to collide in love and romance that ONLY people with their own space share. Readers, please don't judge me, I'm only musing aloud. Even you happy live togethers must secretly wish your lover would stop doingthatbecauseImtiredofrepeatingmyself thing. C'mon. Be honest. Don't you want to just sometimes bellow, GET OUT!!?? Just think about it. It can work. Like any love story there are good points and bad points, Readers. My Love Story is good all the time, and My Lovely could have asked me to marry her 1.75 years ago and I would of said hell yeah, your place or mine? Flashback to my dark past: I was in a relationship that I felt more alone when she was home with me. There is nothing worse than feeling alone when you are right next to a partner. Fin! Is that correct? Moving right along....

Horatio Caine...sit down. You are no longer the Man. Readers, the other night I decided to watch NCIS. I don't really watch that show, but My Lovely does, so now and then I may catch it. Jethro Gibbs...stand up! Everyone knows that I love all the Law & Orders, CSIs and other related shows. Perhaps its the acronym titles, who knows? Anyhow NCIS stands for Naval (not bellybutton, lol) Criminal Investigative Service. My loyalty is with SVU, partly because Mariska Hargitay is so cool (read: smoking hot) and even Christopher Meloni has a hot factor....never mind the fact of B.D. Wong. Jethro Gibbs is to NCIS what Horatio Caine is to CSI Miami. In this week's episode, Jethro's team were being held by some hell bent terrorist in some hot, dank sandy tunnel. I told you that I don't watch this show...anyway...they were tortured, drugged, and damn near the final ten minutes, just when I SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER IF YOU ARE ONE OF THOSE SENSITIVE PEOPLE WITH A DVR, I'M GOING RIGHT TO THE END...thought that there was no hope for them, the cocky beat down agent tells their captor that their boss (Gibbs) is a sniper and thirty-two sand dunes away a shot rings out and DOWN went the captor..bullet to the head!!! Gibbs is dressed like I guess a sand monster, and just rises from the dune!!! The agents quickly free themselves and limp to the exit of the dark stanky tunnel (tent?) and just when one of the now dead captor's cohorts is about to shot them PING! another shot and when the sand and dust settles, there is a silhouette of a sand monster, I mean a MAN, THE MAN, JETHRO GIBBS!!! I think if I was strongly into this show, I would have been bawling right then. I say all this to say, that I just might watch next week. I'm sorry Horatio. Put your sunglasses on and head to the sunset.

Last point..for everyone who ever lined there lips in a super dark pencil and then used a matte lipstick to fill it in, I have achieved smokey charcoal wonderfulness with my eye make-up. I never had the confidence to wear make-up, especially eye make-up but thanks to Carmindy from What Not To Wear (ah cable, you are sorely missed) I have skills to actually use eye make-up without looking like the raccoon that I saw on the 4 train platform on Monday. I'm not kidding. I really did my eyes beautifully and I really did see a hellified raccoon on the platform.

The coolest part is, I don't feel lost without make-up. I feel just as fabulous. You better too, no matter what you have on, what matters is what's going on inside. Love yourself and then others will love you and if they don't, they can kick rocks.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Exhale Tuesday

Dear Readers,

I will be brief, its late and I have to get up at 5. Do me a favor, on the strength of our devotion to each your travels tomorrow, 9/9/09, if you happen to be anywhere in the metropolitan area and happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world..those of you blessed to know her-you know who I am talking about...she will be friendly, kind, smart and yes, gorgeous...please tell her that I love her, I adore her, she made me swoon two years ago, as she makes me swoon today.

I love you, Lovely.

Happy Anniversary.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Twenty-sixth Tuesday, Virus Blog: Laptop still Acting Funky

Readers, Readers, Readers,

Please don’t roll your eyes at me. I know it’s been a while but a whole lotta has been going on. I will give you the list and then tab over to the good/bad of it all.

Medical: My Lovely was hospitalized for a few nights. GOOD
Career: I was transferred to a new district. GOOD
Parenting: I just made spaghetti squash & it was a hit. GOOD
Diet: I lost nine pounds. GOOD
Love: My Lovely & I are celebrating our 2nd lovaversary GOOD

It is truly Lola Time.

Alright, you probably didn’t read anything after the medical one, because you are thinking what kind of black widow spider is this woman anyway? Send in the arsenic, right? No. It’s not like that at all. I just try to see the good in everything. My Lovely was hospitalized for some tests; tests that were found pretty much negative AS LONG AS she (mmhmm we) change our dietary habits and lifestyle. Her brief stint in the hospital and my one nighter (as company) woke us up to what we have been doing wrong. I mean, we are not 100% healthy, but we are getting closer.

Next, the career change…for those of you who don’t know, I work for the city and my conglomerate is broken down into districts. Every district is supposed to run the same but that is like saying every chicken noodle soup is the same…I was in a district that I er, liked, but now I am in a district that I love. Ok, you won’t get me trash talking on an open blog. Hell to the naw. Let’s just say that a change was necessary for all parties involved and what better way to get the party started!? I’ll touch on this more in another blog; I love talking about work.

Onto parenting…did I ever tell you that I’m a mom? I must have, I don’t brag about it, although I should because they are pretty amazing. My son’s name is Patterson and my daughter’s name is McKinley. They are named after the most dangerous housing projects in the city. I’m pausing to crack up. OMG, did you actually believe that? Not their names but that I would actually slip up and tell you their names? You won’t be pulling one of those, “Patterson & McKinley! Your mom is hurt and sent me for you! Quickly, jump into this nondescript white van and let’s go!!”, on my babies. Not you, Dear Reader, but we really don’t know everyone who reads this. Well today the kids and I had a great day; we worked out at the track and had a picnic. For dinner I told my daughter that we were having spaghetti. She sure does love the carbs, so this was a big deal. I sent her to the living room to play video games. My son is always in my armpit, so I had no choice but to show him the spaghetti squash. Spaghetti squash is the yellow oblongish round one. He swore that she would never fall for it. The way you do it, Dear Readers, is you cut the squash in half the long way, and then you pull all the seeds out, lay it cut side down in a pan and bake it for 40min at 350. Once it’s done, carefully (the heifer will be hot) hold it and rake the inside with a fork. It looks like when you play with the play-doh spaghetti maker. Slap that bad boy on a plate and pour on a little of your favorite marinara or even good ole oil and pepper and voila! It really tastes quite good, similar to al dente spaghetti. Best of all there so little calories, it’s not even worth looking up. I wish I would have made a bet with my son, because she liked it so much, she had seconds. I joked with him that had she caught us raking it, we’d just say that it was a pasta plant and that’s where spaghetti came from. Ah, we would have convinced her.

I don’t really have to go into the diet bit, but NINE POUNDS is pretty great. It really ties in well to the medical portion. I want to be able to support My Lovely in everything that she does, so we are making similar changes. We have stepped up (pun so intended) our exercise routine and made positive changes to our daily eating. I feel good and I’m looking even better. Yesterday I wore a pair of jeans and there was a little space between my waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssttttttttt and the fabric. I’ve been journaling what I’m eating and following a few tips that I’ve picked up. On thing that I am doing is enjoying my daily veggies with a teaspoon of olive oil and a healthy sprinkle of red pepper flakes. I don’t tell you this to tell you to do it; I’m just doing it for myself. I’m no food guru, but I am a foodie and I like to eat. I’ve cut out soda-including diet. I’m drinking way more water and as of Monday will incorporate one can of black beans into my daily intake. The kids and I have had so many veggies since yesterday, I’ve nearly fixed all the catastrophic summer eating habits we picked up.

Happy Anniversary of September 9, 2007 when my life forever changed for the better! I love my Lovely and I can hardly believe that I made it thirty long years without her. She is the best thing since spaghetti squash and she makes me oh-so-happy. I am head over heel, send a minister Mister in love with that woman. She puts all the vowels in my week; I love her, love her, and love her. Before her my days were Mndy, Tsdy, Wdnsdy, Thrsdy, Frdy, Strdy, and Sndy, now I wake up everyday with newfound hope, peace and love in my heart. I have to stop here Readers, because if I go on I will start swooning and getting all awesomtastical nuts.

Hey! This just in, remember my good friend who was waiting to find out if she was having twins? Well the verdict is in, Smudge is boy! I think it was all that testosterone that had us nearly fooled to think that it was Smudgies. I don’t know him, but I know his lucky parents and I already love him. Stay tuned for more Mr. Smudge updates. We can’t wait until you get here.

Hey! A little something else just in, I was to congratulate a very, very good friend of Lovely and I. After much deliberation and heartfelt wishes, she has found true love. I (we) are so happy for the both of you, you deserve it. I wish only the bestest and gayest to you, your Lover and The Blackness. I just texted my friend to make sure that nothing has changed…you know how love is. She is damn near plugged into her phone so she should get back to me by the time I publish. She used to answer us right away but that is before she fell all in love and whatnot.

Closing note, thank you Apple for my was acting up and I was about to go to the Apple store and act up, but I figured out what I was doing wrong. I’m sorry I doubted you, Apple.

Until next time, Dear Reader……

You get me, that’s why I love you.


Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Twenty-fifth nutty, I'm sleepy....

Hey there Readers..

I’m writing from Word since my laptop refuses to work with me.
I don’t remember what we spoke about last, since I’ve not had time to refresh myself. I’m sorry I’ve been away, so much has gone on. First off, my Lovely was in the hospital for a few nights. The first night I decorated her room with post it notes, the next night I stayed with her. I love her; she is fine, thank you for your concern. On other fronts, I mentioned on Facebook that I was looking forward to changes. Far be it for me to wax poetic about the past, but there were some things bugging me that are thankfully the past. What a difference a phone call makes. I feel like good things are going to happen and soon. I’m sorry I am being so cryptic, but I’m a firm believer (albeit conceited) that everyone and their mama reads my blog so I have to choose my words carefully. I don’t want the wrong person reading this and me ending up on one of those You Effed Up and Lost Your Whole Shit sites…lmao.

You need to know that last night I had a dream that I was out with someone and we saw a clock that had “Lola’s Time” inscribed on the face. Whomever I was with insisted on me taking a picture so that we could show the clock to my Lovely. Do you honestly think that that was no big deal? I am so sure that it is an indication of things to come. God I wish I could say more. This is why we need a mail bag…so that I could answer your questions individually. There is so much more that was going on and now just like that…everything is good. I’m sleepy…I have to get to bed so that I can get to my brand spanking new district tomorrow in one piece.

Yes, I look forward to going to work. That is a new feeling as well.

Talk to you later.

You get me. That’s why I love you.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Oh You Sucka, You.....

Hey Readers....

I'm just wondering...when someone works so hard to aggravate you, when that person practically lights black candles in your do you respond? I mean if this person and you were hiking, they would most likely hit you with a boulder and eat chopped bits of you with their trail do you respond?

In my case, I respond to the real inquiry of that foul-mouthed angry (jealous?) person. I can fish out the actual subject matter despite the fact that it is smothered in WTFesque tone. I respond in a cool, calm matter. As much as that homicidal maniac might want me to panic and fold, I don't.

The hardest part is trying to keep my voice and face from cracking in hysterical laughter when I see how much it IRKS the maniac that they just can't get to me.

In essence, I am more threatened by mosquitoes. They bite and flee without warning. Short of Off, I have no defense. A mosquito bit my knee yesterday THROUGH my pants. At least when the foul-mouthed angry clearly jealous person has something to say, I can respond.

So this blog is for you and all your similar liked minded you sit and plan and scheme ways to get under my skin? Do I look like someone who took the red crayon from you in kindergarten? What is it about me that bugs you so much? Why do you work so hard to aggravate me? I don't respond to your abusive ways because you mean nothing to me. You are less than a mosquito, I've dealt with higher rank a$$holes than you. I've been places and I'm going places that you will never darken with your evil ways.

I put up with you simply for entertainment purposes. You might as well be a Sim.

You will never see this blog, since that would mean you'd have to read. If your reading is anything like your writing, your eyes have never even glanced at a page with any sort of recognition.

You are pathetic. I'm happy to say that if not for the particular circumstances, I'd never had met you.

Dear Readers, thank you for providing me a forum to vent. Now back to our originally scehduled happy programming. Today is National Aviation Day in honor of the birthday of aviator Orville Wright. Go out and fly a plane, a paper one if you are crafty.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Twenty-Fourth Tuesday

Dear Readers,

Wow, we are really coming along nicely...24+ blogs. Special blog-out to my Lovely who strong-armed me into starting this blog. Maybe "strong-arm" is an exaggeration, but it is what it is. How is everyone today? I'm in a hot hot hot school with very very very aggressive bugs. You take that for what it sounds like, I'm not opening a discussion. So. Yesterday was Monday and you know what that means....

We decided to switch things up and hit the trails instead of the track. I for one did not want to compete with the football tryouts. There is nothing more agitating to jog in the hot sun, except to jog in the hot sun with adolescents racing by you for "fun". These kids run like they really do have wings. While we are jogging, sweating, gasping and nearly crying from the sweat salting our contacts, these kids are running with smiles! I'd say that is real evidence of age. Adults don't smile when they run, children do. When we run, we are either working out (no smile) or escaping The Killer (no smile). If you ever happen to see an adult running with a smile, RUN, because he/she is The Killer.

The trail was a nice change of pace, because there was more to look at, in the same turn I saw a butterfly and a homeless person. By no means am I saying anything bad about the homeless person, but the homeless are a part of the city, so why credit the butterfly and ignore the homeless? This could turn into a PSA (public service announcement)but I will let it be. Did I ever tell you how incredibly S-L-O-W I can be? No? Good, its none of your damned concern. Actually, I didn't know what PSA meant for the longest time. That is not the only acronym that I missed. The sad part is, when I actually do realize the meanings, I have these illuminating moments of truth, in which I want to share my new found knowledge, but I don't want to look like the ass who just realized AMEX is American Express or GWB is George Washington Bridge. There are so many more, but I think those three should applease your need to mock me.

So in between JogDays, we have WeightLiftingDays, I did not want to weight train, especially once it was bought to my attention that we must also do sit-ups. It all sounded like a whole lot of "oh crap, oh no, c'mon, seriously". What I am about to share with you Dear Readers is the weight routine that My Lovely has put together for us. I'm not charging you anything, because this is no great secret and also because I know that you cheapskates won't pay me, as evident of the CLICK RIGHT HERE attempted many blogs ago. I'm still waiting for checks.


Everything is done in reps of 15. First we did three reps of sit-ups. I honestly thought that I would not be able to do the sit-ups and complained to my Lovely. Uh yeah, long story short, I actually made them look hella easy. Since she loves me, I'm still here...because if we were nemesis(s?), I'd be Dead and Gone (great book, look it up dear). I came up with a rather creative way to inspire my Lovely to complete her sit-ups, shut up your mouth. For the weight training, we did three different exercises. We held the weight(s) above and behind our heads and lifted. I was uber concerned that I was going to hit my head, or crumble my spine, that I could not keep my elbow in the right position. My Lovely had to hold my elbows, I looked like a really weird crab. Then we steadied one hand on the desk (yes, we work out in an office-don't judge)and then with the weight in the other hand we swung it behind us. The last one was seated on the couch (yes we have a couch in the office, that's how we do) and lifted the weight from between our legs. It is not as erotic as it sounds.

We are really determined to keep up our regimen. I really enjoyed the trail, we even did this cool Rocky-esque run up and down the stairs. I felt so pumped, I leaped on top of a bench and jogged across. That was a sight, I'm not a short woman. I've been described as a tall drink of water...I'd rather a quick shot of rum-but that's just me.

Were we supposed to cover anything else? I don't think so, I'm trying to keep things simple-its really too hot to be Oh So Lola. I went to see my good friend in the hospital yesterday. He recently suffered a stroke. He can't really speak, so it was just me blabbing away. I hope I entertained him. He sort of smiled, but mostly grimaced. I offered to return and he nodded, but when I offered to read to him, he opted out. I hope you feel better. In fact, I know you will feel better and when you are ready, we will laugh about this. Take care.

Dear Readers, I know that you don't like to end on a somewhat sad point, so here is another point...maybe, just maybe a veryclose friend of mine will be having gasp twins instead of one lonesome baby. I am still gasping over her pregnancy, let alone two for the bang of one. To protect her privacy, I won't share her name-well I don't share anyone's I lovingly dub her Mommy2B(x2?)...aka M2B. M2B will know in early September if she is going to need one of those clumsy dual strollers. OMG..I am really excited, one, two or even three, I'm excited. She is a reader, so if she reads this and wants my head on a platter with a side of fries and onion rings, then I will leave well enough alone. I love you in a really platonic happy I'm not your baby daddy way...speaking of which the father of the baby(ies) is a great guy too.

See-I cover all bases.
Today is August 18. Some notable dates according to Wikipedia:
1920 – The Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution is ratified, guaranteeing women's suffrage.
1934 – Roberto Clemente, Puerto Rican baseball player and humanitarian (d. 1972)
1952 – Patrick Swayze, American actor
1970 – Malcolm-Jamal Warner, American actor

Today is also National Bad Poetry Day.

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
icy is the Popsicle unless its a creamsicle,
then creamy it be.
Fly a butterfly,
Sting like a bee,
Eat like a vegan,
No meat for me

That is my contribution to Bad Poetry Day. I'm sorry that I used the whole roses, violets, butterfly and bee...and no I'm not a vegan. Perhaps in my next life I will be

Lola, the vegan bee
Who sleeps with the Lovely butterfly
While suckling on Popsicles
and jogging through obstacles

You get me. That's why I love you.


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Hello Hello Hello

Hey batta batta batta ssssssswwwwwwwiiiiiiinnnnnng batta!

Good Morning Readers!

I do not follow sports. I just love Ferris Bueller. If you have seen the greatest movie ever, than you don't need to even question my motives. So how is everyone this damp, soggy morning? I left the house this morning without an umbrella. I feel like umbrellas are a product of THE MAN, and it is part of my natural essence to get wet in the rain.

Easily spoken by someone who can never hold onto an umbrella. I lose them all the time. I had two great umbrellas, my YU one and one that my mother gave me. I know that I left the YU one on a bus; the other one I think was taken, VINA...perhaps you have SEEN it. When I chopped my hair done to thismuch, I bought a brown rain hat. Omg, I looked so foreign. Lovely, you may insert a "Hello Governor" here. Readers, are you ok with me addressing people in my blog? I don't want to offend you, nor bore you with inside jokes. This is why we need the reader's mail bag. But noooooooo you all can Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, Blogspot, and everything, but help us all if you slap a stamp on an envelope.

JOG TIME JOG TIME JOG TIME Yes Readers, its that time of the blog to update you on the most euphoric thing since morning ah coffee-yeah that's the ticket...morning coffee. When we first started jogging, we would alternate jog/walk for 30min. I don't know if I told you, but out of the few times we had to stay in and jog on the treadmill, I was able to do the straight 30min jog twice. Yesterday, I decided that I was going to stop concentrating on the finish line and just keep going. Well. I jogged around that track three times. THREE TIMES. After I stopped, I didn't even feel like my feet were touching the ground. Oh what a feeling. It was awesome. I could have done without the odd combination of stiff legs and loose knees, but it felt good. I encourage you to jog. Really, once you get into it, you feel incomplete without it, just like morning coffee.

I have a few chinks in my armour, which is saying a lot since my armour is more like cheap foil paper. Folks who know me beyond this blog know my biggest issues. I try to concentrate on the good in me, but if you don't see the inky ickyness, you have nothing to compare the good to. Without comparison, you are in the darky darkness...hahahhahahahhaha darky darkness....I'm all Harry Potter today. As suggested to me last night in response to something I said. No, I will not tell you what I said. I have to keep some things to myself, like this rash...kidding. I am a barrel of comedic genius today.

I don't even know what has pulled me to blog today, other than the jog speak I have nothing of merit to say. However, since when has this blog really been a thing of merit? I blog just the way that I talk, which to some in my personal life may not be as entertaining in person as it is in print. I say this to say, IF you find this sort of thing entertaining.

Uh oh...a fight is breaking out nearby. In actuality it is my duty to moderate the argument, but I don't want to deal. I manage adults and it these people can't figure out a way to get along, its not my job to push them. As long as the argument does not come to blows, then I'm staying out of it. You would think I work in a prison yard. One sec, while I lean from behind my screen and look concerned........

See? Fight over!
Management at its (her) finest.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Twenty-third Tuesday, I think...

Dear Readers,

First and foremost, I apologize for missing the 22nd Tuesday blog. I was unable to get to you. How is everyone? Since you can't answer, I imagine you are fine. What
's that? You want to know how I am? How utterly considerate of you.

I am conflicted (big shock). I am distracted (no kidding). I can't even begin to focus on anything really, but I'm going to try. Its times like this that I wish I can answer reader mail. That would be awesome. Right now I am sitting in my Lovely's living room. Her dear parents are all busy with little chores-despite my halfhearted offer of assistance-they seem to have things going. Super Dad is doing some bathroom work and is annoyed that the As Seen on TV product is really not living up to its promises. Super Mom is cooking...turkey legs, rice and spinach. The most strenuous thing I've done since getting here is kick off my sneakers.

The more I think about it, the more deadbeat I feel. Tonight I will creep into the kitchen and plan dinner for tomorrow. I get off from the salt mines early enough.

Let's stay on topic. I'm conflicted because I am contemplating a bleep change. To protect the innocent (me) I can't really go into the bleep. I can tell you however, I am good and tired of the present bleep and ready to look into a different bleep. I've spoken to a few people that I trust and respect and I feel that if I should jump the bleep, that I will be supported. I put up with so much at the bleep I am wondering if this bleep is for me. Its a very distracting course of thought, you must feel distracted right now. However at the tender age of not 40, I think I should have some leg room and time to make changes.

As I'm proofreading, I'm noticing so many errors. Its like I'm typing without the use of my thumbs, ring fingers and pinkies. I also find that I'm typing thoughts and then quickfire backspacing. That's not cool-I should be able to flow with my thoughts.

How about I give you some homework? Check me out! I'm so cheeky. Sometimes I think I am a real snob. Its hard to believe, but some of the thoughts that pass through this head, really should be kept to myself. I won't be surprised if you won't be surprised.

You should go online and watch Family Guy episode...hold on, I'm going to get you all the information. BRB. Season 4, Episode 428...Stewie B. Goode. Wow. I saw it last night for the first time and I was hysterical. Just to give you an idea, Stewie becomes an alcoholic. There is more to the episode than that, but that was the best. BRB...I'm going to see if I can get you a link. Here is a link from IMDB, one of my favorite sites....

That's it! I don't feel so distracted anymore. I'm going to to watch Family Guy.

I promise more content, good content on the Twenty-fourth Tuesday, please excuse me.

You get me, that's why I love you.


Sunday, August 2, 2009

One Saturday

My sister’s father died today.

The words look crazy as I type them. Do they sound crazy? You read right, my sister’s father died today. I remember when we were kids and even now as adults, to say to anyone, “my sister’s father”, I always got the look. What is so difficult? I always would explain, shamelessly, of course. David Dangerfield was nothing to hide. He was a wonderful man, a cool Dad, a perfect Grandpa (Papa D).

Our mother is a beautiful woman, this was never a secret. First there was my Dad, Kevin, then Vina’s Dad, David and finally Vance and Frances’s Dad, Big Vance. I figure we were lucky kids. David always made me feel like I was no different from Vina or Charisse (yes, my sister’s sister!). He was a firefighter. What kid would not want their Dad to be a firefighter? Every Christmas, they had a big party at the firehouse. It was the same thing every year, great food and music. The best part was when Santa came down the pole with gifts for all the kids. David always made sure there was a present for me. He would introduce me as his daughter, never his daughter’s sister. I never felt like he didn’t love me.

He was interested in my grades, in my life, and he made sure to ask me how I was. Most recently, he was on Facebook, right along with me and my other FB friends commenting on Hell’s Kitchen. He recently celebrated his wife’s birthday. David was so proud of his sons-all athletes; I think…definitely football that I know for sure. He had great daughters, fun, happy grandkids. TJ, David, Jordan, Jared, Charisse, Vina and Shanelle will miss their Dad. I don’t know how they must feel. Losing a parent just doesn’t make any sense. I’m a mom and I don’t want to see anything happen to my children, but I don’t want them to be left to mourn me either. I don’t know how my sister is handling the loss of her Daddy.

I don’t know. I feel like the loss of your parent is like losing half of yourself. Isn’t that odd? A parent can have many children, but a child can only have one parent. I’m so, so, so, so sorry that my sister has lost her father. I don’t know what to say to her to ease her suffering.

I sit here mourning the end of a man who was proud to introduce me as his daughter. You know, now that I think of it, he never explained where I came from or anything. He would just tell people, this is Christina, my daughter. While I did not lose my Daddy today, I mourn for David. He was and always will be a father to me. I was so impressed when I saw him on Facebook, all proud in family photos. I cannot believe he is gone. I am not trying to understand the pain my sister, his children and his wife must be feeling now. I don’t know how they are going to explain this loss to the grandkids. I can’t even understand it myself.

My kids just came in and noticed that I am crying. They are upset, because I won’t share with them. I told them that I am ok, that I am blogging and feeling emotional. Since I need them to sleep, I promised to tell them in the morning. The night should give me time to process so that I can explain this to them in the morning. I don’t know how I will express it with strength and clarity, but I will. That is what a parent does.

Today a wife lost her husband. Today my sister lost her father. Today, seven children lost their father. Today a handful of grands lost their Papa D.

Today I go to bed with the sharp knowledge that I am blessed to still have my mother and my father, but with the incredible realization that I lost a parent.

Rest in peace David Dangerfield.
You are loved.
You are missed.
Thank you for everything.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Twenty-first Tuesday

Hello Readers!

In high spirits was not a nightmare, my son arrived in one piece from camp and I'm home with my woman. What more could I ask for? I'll tell you, since you asked, well not really..but who is the blogger?

Enter Me...Sweaty at the bus stop, wearing a pink skirt, dark purple top near blue and black flats (what else?). Don't forget my super big pink/black plaid shades. I am only on my way home-not looking for any trouble.

Enter Old Pimp Daddy...I saw him coming before he even got there-I could almost read his mind. You think I was sweaty? My man was almost floating down Webster Avenue. Here he comes down the steps of the Senior Center.

(Pimp Music Please)
And Scene!!

Old Pimp walks toward me fake looking at his watch. He is all shaking and because I am a believer, its because he is nervous, not afflicted. He takes another glance at me, digs out his handkerchief (egads) and wipes some of the Hudson River off his brow.

Old Pimp: Hot enough for you? (Readers, I can't make this up)

Me: Ah, yes.

OP: mmmhmmm Say! What's your favorite season!!!?? (He was VERY excited)

Me: Mmm Spring, or even

OP: FALL???!!! Yes me too, not too hot, not too cold, ah yes.

Me: Blank stare turned elated at the bus approaching.

OP: Hey, what do you do!?

Me: Dietitian (that's what they all call me, right?)

OP: Hey!!!! We got a kitchen in there, I'm like a social worker, you should visit!

Me: Ahh (heading stealthy toward the bus) ooohhh um

OP: Lemme give you mah card!!!!

Readers. This OP actually gave me his business card. What the hell? I have to admire his boldness. I still got it. Yep, that's me, Lola...he must think my name is Lolita. Since I wanted him to smile all the way back into the Senior Center, I dutifully put it in my wallet. Its still there. No, I don't think I will need to look him up anytime soon, but I've not had a chance to toss it yet.

Who knows? (Pimp music, please) I might just need it one day.

On other fronts, I watched the first 8min of More To Love, the Bacheloresque show featuring big girls and the one big guy who loves them...and I just can't. They look so hopeful, and there is no reason for them not to-but their hopefulness is almost at a pathetic level. Each girl would either bounce or seductively swagger up to the "John" and say a few words-then the screen would switch to their private interview and they would say a little something about themselves. One woman was crying about buying the clothes that fit her right now and not promising to diet tomorrow. I turned the channel then. I don't really watch those type of reality shows-I much rather Intervention, Housewives or Bridezilla. Perhaps if the hook of the show was not plus sized women, I'd check it out. Why can't all the plus size ones and negative sized ones vie for the same man? What are people really watching for? Not for me, that's just my opinion.

Now I am watching Disorder in the Court. This is a good show. Whoo hoo...the drama of Cops without all the chasing and sirens. Its a reality show with real videos of court mishaps. When I say mishaps, you ought to read beat downs. In between there are lawyers, officers, and psychologists offering their thoughts. Oh yeah. Its a little emotional to see family members so upset, but if you can see past that, its good tv.

My Lovely is out of the shower and as much as I love you all, it is hard to concentrate on anything but her right now. Anyway its 9:30 and some of US have to work tomorrow. Speaking of work, I have a meeting on Thursday. Oh joy. I'll keep you posted.

If any of you would like the opportunity to meet an Old Pimp from the Senior Center, let me know. I'll hook it up.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Insanely Late At Night Waste of a Blog

I don't think I suffer from insomnia, because I am good and tired. I could sleep real hard right now. I think since I get up so early, my day feels "over" too soon...and that leads me to "prove" something to myself and stay awake.

It is truly ridiculous of me and I need to stop playing games. I need to be awake and about no later than 5:45am and here I am.


Ok. Goodnight.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

20th Tuesday

Good Day Readers,

How are you all today? You all, or you one, or you four; you ALL count to me. I want to take this moment to thank you for visiting my blog. You have made Tuesday, and some Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, the best days of my week.

Guess what? You better be sitting down (preferably@work, DOWN WITH THE ESTABLISHMENT!!) while I share this next tidbit with you. Guess who started jogging? Mmmmhmmm..ME! I'm just as shocked as you are. Don't worry, this does not mean an end to my gym blogs; this opens a NEW chapter of blog. We started jogging in Florida, led by a very experienced jogger, you know who you are..and I'm so proud to say that we (Lovely & I) are jogging 3x weekly. This is our second week and we feel a difference in our lung capacity already. We have been joined by MamaLovely and Lil' Lola, each one reach one. Dear Readers, it feels so good to jog. Never mind the stitch on your side, the charly horse, the nasty little blister on your toe, your bad knee or that light headed OH NO feeling toward the end....once you reach end, it feels wonderful. You can't expect just straight good feeling without at least one or five calamities. I encourage you all to start jogging. Just go. Don't try to keep up with YogaGirl (yes! I have seen my VERY own YogaGirl, the one and only from my gym at the track), the Jocks or even the Stroller Moms. You would think a stroller would slow them down, but even they have passed me. There is something truly refreshing about working out at the park. Everyone is doing there own thing in a big open space. There is something so closed in about working out at the gym. At the park-we are united and 100% apart at the same time. Its beautiful.

OMG, did I just give a whole entire passage to jogging?? Gosh, I am so healthy. Gosh. Have a bucket of fried and sit your bleep down, Lady!

Whitney Houston in on Pandora crooning about her wanting to run to you, and that reminds me: I believe she is releasing or has released an album. I love her, who doesn't and although I was a little more than disappointed at some of her choices in her life-it is and still is her life-and her business. I've never wanted to be a celebrity. If I want to turn to a life of promiscuity and drug abuse, I want to do it in private-not with the world watching. I'm just thinking. While I'm thinking Whitney, can I tell you that I saw a picture of Bobby Brown...he looks like he ATE Bobbi Christina. He is so bloated and out of shape. Sad for him, but I am on Team Whitney, so he can kick rocks....or in his case, start jogging. I read somewhere (ages ago) that when addicts start "cleaning up" they put on weight. I will double check that before you all go and start telling everyone that "Lola said...", if that is the case, perhaps he is on to a healthier life as well. I wish them both well.

To add on to my love list from last week's blog, 11. Love is knowing when to let someone go, if that is their wish. A Dear Reader shared that with me in an email and I thought it worthy to repeat. You've all heard, "if you love someone let them go, if its meant to be they will return to you". That's true, but that has happened to me and guess what? When she returned I did not even want to be bothered. Does that mean the love was untrue? I'd like to think at least in my case, that meant that I had an opportunity to see what it was to concentrate on loving myself-giving way to the thought, that I didn't need her anymore. I believe strongly in a blueprint. Everyone has one. Your blueprint is your life plan. You don't always have a say in the blueprint, but if you follow your heart (and sometimes mind-though it be persnickety) you will find that everything really does happen for a reason. I'm on a blueprint now, and I'm so happy, so blessed and so sure that everything I have experienced thus far, both good and bad-has led me to this very place where I am now.

I am loving my life journey. I wake up every morning with a smile on my face, it does not matter what day it is. I know that my blueprint will not lead me in the wrong direction, that is why I am thankful for everything that I have and will attain. Even all this melodramatic is blueprint! Follow your own blueprint. Don't be distracted by everyone else-they've their own to follow.

Go with the current...just don't drown.

You get me. That's why I love you.


Thursday, July 16, 2009

Nineteenth Tuesday Somewhere in America

Dear Readers,

I know its Thursday, days after the real nineteenth Tuesday, but you are here and that's what counts. Things are quite sporadic lately and while I keep coming up with things to talk to you and there and quite frankly everywhere I run into situations that change my whole course of action.

I know what I promised you last blog and I'm good for it. Let's get one thing out in the open-I abhor email forwards. I don't care to thank St. So and So, nor do I care if forwarding an email will get me a cell phone credit, or do I think dancing babies and giggling sunflowers that wax poetic are worthy reads. Don't get me wrong, you are talking to someone who reads everything, including cereal boxes, to say the least. Er...four letter word, Lady...yes, yes, I'm getting to it. Over my vacation, during one nearly sleepless night in particular, I started thinking about love.

Pump the brakes! I know you feel like I am leading you on, I swear I'm not. I was thinking about things that indicate love, you know the is yada yada. I came up with many different ones, but naturally, I'm not going to preach you to death. Please don't click your mouse and get the hell out of my sight, humor me.

Here is a short list, (I promise, wink...)Love is...
1. Thinking about a sick child fervently to the point of nearly sickening yourself.
2. Contortionist style spooning that you know will help your sweetheart sleep.
3. Picking out the last crunchy fry for the person who loves it best.
4. Giving up your seat on the bus for someone who makes you think of your Grandma
5. Swiping someone through with your unlimited Metro, even though they might be the killer. (This means that you love enough to believe in everyone, see#8)
6. Letting go hurtful things said to you, and picking out the true meaning.
7. Tearing at graduations, funerals, and weddings.
8. Seeing the good in everyone, despite their ugly misunderstood wrappings.
9. Smiling at your kids.
10. Smiling at yourself.

Of course this list is in no particular order and as I read over it, it made more sense at 3am. I don't know how you feel about my list, and by no means am I saying that you have to feel the same way. This list is according to me, as everything that I blog. A note about #10, I ALWAYS, no matter how I am feeling-smile at myself when I pass a mirror. A smile feels good, and you can't just expect everyone to smile at you, excluding the metrocardless killer-but if you save a smile for you, it will make your day better, if even for that second in time.

Yesterday afternoon I had a good cry. Relax, I'm ok now, in fact, I was ok right after the cry. I was by myself (a rarity) and had some time (a never-ity)so I took advantage. As I cried, I thought that with the tears I was releasing myself from the stress and trappings of the day. I did not need to call anyone and vent. I was all I needed. At the end of the cry, I got up, changed my clothes, tossed in a load of laundry and got on with my life. Sometime after the cry, I passed a mirror and yes, I smiled. True it looked a little maniacal, but it was real and it felt like the sun after the rain.

Today I woke up feeling hopeful and thankful for my new day.

OMG..before I forget, I watched Doubt last night with Meryl Streep. Well. The movie was slow and kind of artsy, like a Calvin Klein commercial. It was good, but in a quiet way. Everyone played their parts so well...the movie was based on a play and ran just like one. I won't spoil the ending for you, but if you want to see some fine acting and can get by the symbolic Kleinesque wind, then this is the movie for you. One uber cool thing about the movie is the fact that it is in the Bronx, in an area very familiar to me. Funny how I didn't notice until the first 34min or so.

While I watched Doubt on my laptop, I had the television tuned and muted on Channel 9. I was waiting for Wendy Williams to start. This show, Magician's Secrets Revealed was on. What a load of crap. Alright, given, its cool to see finally that I've been right about optical illusions and whatnot-however, this masked dude who was revealing the "secrets" was SO TOO MUCH..omg, I don't know why he was being so dramatic, but I swear there is no way to be interested in the secrets revealed when there is so much dum dum duuuuuuuuuum going on. Wow, he was so over.

Que mas? I bet you like my little espanol for ya. One last thing, and its never over-while on vacation, I learned a few things about Florida.

1. You never know the time, the entire day felt like noon, then bedtime.
2. Walmart is the hot spot and you must go at least 3x weekly, once after 10pm.
3. You can overfeed a family of four at Golden Corral for under $20.
4. Floridian bugs are no joke; frogs can be small enough to hop off the head of a needle.
5. Flip flops are the ish.

Guess who has to get to work? Yeah, me. Sigh..oh to be independently wealthy.

You get me, that's why I love you.