did i mention i’m obsessed with cupcakes…

A quite unfortunate development considering I’m trying trying trying to get “the” weight off once and for all. We’re in the middle of a series of ridiculous snow storms in VA and all I want to do is hop in the Jolly Green Giant and traipse over to Buzz on Slater for some of their FABULOUS cupcakes. They are INCREDIBLE. I’d pay “good money” for just a bite of their 9:30 cupcake. OMG.

They were such a hit at a recent office party that noone complained too much when I strongarmed them politely requested donations. ( They aren’t cheap by a longshot). When The Great Snowpocalypse of 2010 is but a distant memory, you know where to find me. Look for me in a cute little cupcake shop on Slaters Lane. I’ll be the one, sitting by the window with my eyes half closed, in a moment of chocolate induced nirvana.

sweetness to go

So I was just informed that the cupcake craze has taken to the streets and now offers convenient, calorie packed curbside delivery service.

Lo and behold, Curbside Cupcake may be lurking outside your office door this very minute. How can you even resist it.

A reliable source has informed me that she just had the most delicious red velvet cupcake ever. I can’t stand it.

I wish I worked downtown. SIGH.

new phone

Finally getting a new phone. I’m so over my Blackberry Curve that I can’t even tell you. I was able to finagle Tmobile into giving me an upgrade, for the most part only paying shipping charge. The reviews that I’ve come across for the Motorola Cliq are pretty good so far- the main thing I’m attracted to is that it will fully support my facebook addiction what with the whole social networking interface. I’m expecting it within the next day or so. I’ll keep you posted.

24,15,37,25,13…8

Today is one of those days that I wish I had worked from home.Work is insane to say the least. I keep saying I will take a day off soon but I know that probably won’ t happen. When you’ve been heel to pavement for longer than you can even recount- sitting still only allows you time to stew over sh*t that still needs to be done. Who’d have ever thought that I would forget how to be lazy? Surely, its the end times. Gone are the comforts of eight hour work days. I arrive at the office when its dark and I head for home when its darker and sometimes still have to log in when I get in the house. New contracts, low headcount and no overtime pay makes for a fairly high stress situation.  Its funny, I left my old job, a major corporation, with “the grass is always greener” mentality. Its surprising that many companies, regardless of size face the same exact issues with high turnover, efficiency, and morale.

When I hit the mega millions, I’m really going to miss this sh*t, for real.

pretty girl

When I was growing up, I went through perhaps the longest ugly duckling phase that anyone has probably had to endure. Not only did I ALWAYS have a very ample derriere, too ample for a bookwormish kid at a predominately white elementary, middle and then high school- but I always had glasses that were always a little TOO big and bookish, and I always wore skirts- even in the dead of winter. My grandfather, the head of a small Pentecostal church in the country wasn’t about having females walking around in clothes meant for men. The day that I did get to wear jeans to school- my father, undecidedly UNPentecostal put his foot down- I felt that God was punishing me- as no sooner had I arrived to my second period class in my new white jeans that I officially “became a woman” -staining and imprinting the moment indeliably on my 10 year old psyche. It was a horrible day and I did not put on another pair of pants until I was 18 years old.  These days, I rarely wear skirts which I believe is pretty normal for women with backgrounds such as mine. I’ve had enough skirt wearing to last a lifetime, for real and for true. Add my general sense of awkwardness to the fact that I stood out as the girl who always wears skirts- hell that would have broken a lesser person in their very formative years I would think. I thank God for my grandmother who made me feel beautiful even at a time that I felt anything but. I really truly thank God for her. I guess I was about 13 when one day after walking across the lawns to get into her home, my grandmother made a little fuss and said “I was wondering who that beautiful girl was walking around outside!” Of course when she said it, I peeked out the window to see if this beautiful girl was still roaming around because surely she wasn’t talking about me. How could she possibly have been. Coming from my grandmother, who was and still is, one of the most beautiful women in the world- that was more than a compliment. When we used to pass around photos of my grandmother in her youth – we always marvelled at how perfect her hair always was, how perfect her outfits were- she looked like a young Lena Horne in her day.  How could someone so perfect find me, with my large Sally Jessy Raphael glasses and long skirts beautiful? It was unheard of. Over the years, I have learned to be comfortable in the skin that I’m in, and cultivate my own version of “beautiful”. I know that when I am happy, I feel beautiful. When I am smiling- I feel beautiful. I have learned to concentrate on the beauty that is inside me which is far greater than any physical beauty that I will ever posess and I find that it really does spill over into the outside. My booty is still too big, but its ok, because although its big, honey you better believe I keep it moving! I feel happy with the woman I’ve become.  And my beautiful grandmother in all her wisdom, cracked the shell way back when I just a young egg and at my most awkward. This weekend, when I was visiting the family- I tried somewhat of a new look which i was nervous about. After the church service, when I went to greet my grandmother- her beautiful little eyes danced, and she grabbed my hand and kissed my cheek and gleefully remarked ” Look at this beautful woman in front of me!” and my heart spilled over. Not because of any sense of vanity or anything of the sort. My heart spilled over because I am in a truly happy place in my life for the first time in a long time- at peace with myself, and those around me- and a tiny part of me likes to think that the beautiful woman that stood before my grandmother this weekend was smiling back at her,  from the inside out.

Not sure how I feel about this one….should I even care? LOL.

off the top of my head

I miss blogging.

2009 was pretty much a crap year- I’m grateful to have gotten through it. Hopefully lessons learned will help me have a marvelous 2010.

I’m hopelessly addicted to FB.

Who cares who Tiger is sleeping with?

The OSIM igallop …i mean, why?

Going without meat, sugar and carbs for 21 days is much much easier than I thought.

Redefining friendships must mean I’m growing up- finally…right?

Looking forward to Italy in August with my soon to be 16 year old.

I hope this crockpot full of vegetarian chili turns out right. I’m starved.

I need to stop putting off this PMP exam. I’m utterly intimidated by the whole thing. Ironic thing is the longer I put it off, the higher my chances of not even passing. UGH. Wish I had my daugther’s brain right about now.

Work is INTERESTING right now. You figure out if thats a good thing or a bad thing. My mouth is shut on the matter.

I can’t believe its almost a whole year since my G’pop passed away. Feels like we’re still reeling from the initial shock of it.

I’m happy to be me.

My friends are the most supportive, loving, brutally honest people in the world. How did I get so lucky?

Does the fact that its harder to not cuss for a month than to eat the things I like speak on my character?LOL. So shameful. People are stupid though and they try me just too much…

Grateful for sharing Friday with Dina, Cathy and Fran. That was a POWERFUL experience not soon to be forgotten. THANK YOU.

“Life has no limitations, except the ones you make.”-Les Brown

 

boosters ruined my life

I’ve posted before about the nail shop I go to in a not so fabulous neighborhood. I travel from my comfy home in VA every two weeks to MD to get my treatments because of habit and also because they have thus far, done the best job on my nails and feet.

Yea so. That’s about to stop. I finally realized that unfortunately, I might be a little ..I don’t want to say bourgie because I really don’t identify with that. Maybe I’m just to…not ghetto enough…to frequent the establishment any longer. Yea thats it. My ghetto game is not up to par at ALL. Humph and to hell with it.

I’ve taken a lot from those folks over the years. I mean I’ve been offended and green with envy at the designer-like gear the nail technicians rock constantly. I’ve gotten agitated by the bad ass little kids constantly running around. I even turn a blind eye to the boosters who roam the aisle selling everything from tube socks to lacy underwear. I mean I take it, you know! I’ve just endured so much all in the name of the best french manicure I’ve personally ever had on fingers and toes. But this weekend, one of the most special boosters came into the door and I knew from the minute he stepped across the threshold- it would be a lifechanging moment. He just had that look of ” Bitches, Imma about to change your world”. I can’t explain it but I have a sense about these things. I didn’t know what to expect though. Who knew what he’d pull out of his black canvas bag. I do know that when he reached in, for a moment- my heart fluttered. Should I duck? What will happen? What he pulled out confirmed my earlier suspiscions. No,he didn’t have the latest bootleg Star Trek DVD to sell. Neither did he gave any of the most special bars of soap and deoderant sticks that are normally sold there- two for five dollars.  Nope. Nothing as practical as that. This man was advertising and offering at super low discount rates, bottom dollar prices, best investment you ever made- PEPPER SPRAY, get it now only two left. Pepper spray. I may not be all of it, but I really honestly am sitting there thinking, God please don’t let anyone I know see me up in here today. Please and I promise. To make things worse, as I’m wriggling my toes trying to get Ms A’s attention so she can get to the corns asap so I can get my fancy ass up out of there, the fabulous young thing next to me, in all her self applied down to there weaved glory,yells out, to noone in particular, as though someone were paying her ass for advertising- ” Yea, that stuff works cause that one time the cops sprayed it on me….”. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you what the end results of the said WTF-are-u-talking-about  incident were, because at that point I started singing out loud to myself so as to drown her out. Amidst all that foolery, I’m sure I ended up looking like the crazy one. I’m special like that. Get there.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get around to getting my nails done that day. I am saddened that I am forced to end such a long relationship with the proprietors of the establishment but I really don’t think I belong there anymore. After I paid for their services, I stepped back to take in the salon one final time. A smiling Ms A waved to me, telling me that she’ll see me next time and to bring my daughter with me. I shook my head slowly and backed out the door.

No Ms A, you will not and I shall not.  Now I will end up paying more I’m sure at a new nail salon, and change my whole routine- but what choice do I have? A beetch whose been pepper sprayed just might be a beetch who’d cut ya, and honey, a beetch like that does NOT need to be sitting next to me, while I’m immobile with my feet stuck in the water. No ma’am and good day.

…

I knew that booster would change the game.

I told you.

Precious life

 

Its been forever and a day. Life has really…been testing my resolve as of late. In major ways. But I’m still standing and still grateful. Through the tears and the pain, God is blessing me and I am surrounded by people who love me and lift me up when I would otherwise fall. For all of you, and you know who you are- where would I be without your support and love!?

From all that is in me, and all that I am…THANK YOU. THANK YOU. and THANK YOU.

L.

to be young again

But seriously. I’m going to have to borrow someone’s elementary aged school kid for regular movie dates throughout 2009. I suffered the embarassment before when Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone came out. When I realized that there were tons of adults like me who were Harry obsessed, I got over my shame and just went alone for the remaining Harry Potter flicks. I really don’t think I’m going to have the same luck next year. The absolute BEST movies for 2009 are in fact kids movies. I mean animated films in all their Pixar glory type films. I.CANNOT.WAIT. A movie outing yesterday that went way left field resulted in me sitting for The Tale of Despereaux. I wish I could say that my mature taste in film made me desperately bored and agitated that I was immersed in a theatre full of squirmy kids and that I suffered impatiently until the end of said film until the moment I could regain my sophisticated consciousness and enjoy some stimulating adult conversation. Nah, bruh. I barely blinked during the PREVIEWS. They had me at “Please turn off cell phones and crying babies” ( or something like that). I gasped and giggled along with the little kids. I nudged the person next to me at the really scary parts. I whispered loudly when I figured I knew what was happening. I laughed. I got teary. And then the actual movie started. Sigh.  Loved it. Loved it. Loved it. K would never go see these movies with me. (Mother…no). We have had numerous  “if I have to watch one more movie where animals are given human mannerisms I’ll scream” conversations. I can’t even bribe her lil behind to go. So that leaves me sitting here, trying to find out when those wonderful movies will be featured next year. I need a game plan. I figure I can borrow my sister’s three kids, one at a time for the first three. Might have to pay for a couple cousins for others, but I’m not above it. If worse comes to worst, I’ll wait until a family that looks like me strolls into a theatre and follow behind them closely. I’ll clutch my popcorn tight and sit right next to the youngest kid. No seat in between. And I’ll possibly make friends with the parents so that hopefully maybe one day, they’ll consider letting me borrow their kid for the next premiere. Yea. Its that serious. Kids movies rule.