Monday, November 30, 2009

The Place Where I Work: My Curls Bring All the Boys to the Yard.

After a weekend where I was again humbled and astounded at my broke assedness, I was feeling rather swell this Monday morning. I guess because I got a lot of rest, deep conditioned my hair and reconnected with my Boston-now BROOKLYN homie DoubleDeuce!! She moved to my old hood-for a few years- and we had great walks n' talks. Coffee and bagels, and were joined by another mutual homie. Of course, because its me and my luck, I run into a blast from my funny past. Long story short, there was a lot of staring and me saying 'awkward' a few times.
That is pretty much a normal day for me though.
So, today I was feeling kinda nice. Decided to be 2 steps ahead of the game and NOT straighten my hair since I knew it was going to be a semi-rainy week. Am all curly- don't know if curly hair causes major spunk...or if it brings out my cheekbones a lot more because I am getting major love from dudes who have all their teeth! Shocking.
For instance today I rushed upstairs to my desk before getting my usual Starbucks because the line wayyy too long. I then went back downstairs and realized I left my wallet upstairs. Nice...and also not a problem for me because as I left to get it, a barista was making my usual and told me not to worry about it. It was free. This barista was told by Mi Amour (the dude who said he loved me) that I was cool and he did the right thing by not making me pay.
...but it was the look in their eyes that made me worry. Like would my payment be a train run on a bed of lemon loaf slices? Is the coffee worth it? Worth my dignity? Not at all, but I am not worried about it until they start seeking payment. Then I'll have to either lube up or shut up.
So, that was a good start to the day. Things got a little crazy at work because people create the unnecessary drama and don't communicate well. They also think they know it all. They may also care a lot more than I do-but I can't help that I am naturally gifted in not giving a hoot yet doing an amazing job. I've had it since I was a lil Honey. In school I would half assedly get straight A's...and then just to be balanced I would get straight C's. Yet all my teachers loved me and rooted for me. It was sweet.
Work got in the way of my good vibe a little, but I was soon pushed over the edge into FULL OUT RAGE at lunchtime.
Since it was raining I kept it chill and dined at the nearest cafe. Just me and a mindless mag. Had a zucchini and tomato quiche that was divine. Being a native New Yorker, I am always aware of my surroundings...and soon noticed 2 nerds sitting near. Both eating cheesecake and one more desperate looking than the other. Because their voices carried I was able to hear their whole conversation, when I wasn't fully concentrating on the mindless magazine.
They began with jokes about this conference they went to at MIT- okay these weren't hot nerds or the type of nerdy dude I like. The unexpected nerd. The one who makes mixtapes and will play video games with you while reciting quiotes from old Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes.
No, these dudes were NERDS. The type that don't get laid in a Judd Apatow film because they are in another film that involves locking pretty young women in a basement and filing down their bones. No fun.
I zoned out on the MIT portion of the convo, but soon perked up when I heard one of the nerds mention how he was at happy hour and was getting hit on by two women. I caught eyes with the woman sitting across from me and we both smirked. Knowing that he was doing that nerdy dude thing where they lie. When nerd 2 asked nerd 1 about how his night went with the 2 chicks, nerd 1 replied that it went nowhere fast because the chicks were 35! He said it with a vile disgust...kinda like the way I felt about the hair growing from behind his ears.
Nerd 2 was like: So? That's not old.
Nerd 1 says its wayyyy too old for reproduction. He then advised his fellow nerd brethren to WIKIPEDIA this fact that women who have kids after 35 will most likely have a kid with down syndrome and that women should should start procreating wayyy before they reach 30 and STOP at 35.
Needless to say my magazine was closed. One of the women in the area practically snarled and then left. The other women and I just shook our heads half amused and half like REALLY?? Even unattractive nerds get to hand us time stamps on when we should or shouldn't procreate. INSANITY. Before stabbing him with my plastic knife, I decided to let him live. At the rate he was going he would NEVER reproduce...unless he did so with a petri dish...so whew!

Always a pick-me-up, Drake, was being extra friendly today. By extra friendly he actually acknowledged my presence. He said 'hello'!! This is BIG. I think its the curls, but pretty soon we'll get to 'how are you' and then I'll be able to beat my 35 yr old deadline to have kids.
HOORAYYYYY!!!

Review: The Souuuuuulllll Train Awards

A PSA TO KEEP YOU FROM GETTING SHANKED IF YOU ARE NOT BLACK:
Let me preface this review by saying some of y’all unfamiliar with the glory that is Soul Train, will most likely not understand/ know who/what I am talking about. By y’all I mean people who aren’t Black. If you are Black and have no idea what Soul Train is and who/what I am talking about, TURN IN YOUR BLACK CARD!!! Mark ‘other’ and just be done with you. You don’t deserve the natural rhythm, nor the insta-swagger.
Soul Train was part of growing up. You watched it on Saturday mornings. You danced, you sang along and you LOVED IT! Now, Black people will most likely know the artists I am writing about because we have to. Black people HAVE TO know who’s out there representing us-so any famous Black person-we all know about. Must know who is moving us forward…or setting us back…or needs to be HANDLED.
This is not to say that OTHERS will not know what’s going on, but I’m just saying don’t ask the nearest Black person what the dealy is- Google that shit.
The End.

The Soul Train Awards went on hiatus due to Don Cornelius being OLD and new people needing to take over. I hear the show is coming back…and so did the awards, but there will BE NO ONE like that slow talking don…Don Cornelius. This was proven by the pre-show red carpet which was hosted by that closeted gay Farnsworth ‘I was Diddy’s ass pillow’ Bentley- seriously, what was up with dudes hair?? I get that we’re all going back to the 80’s/90’s/when shit was UGLY, but COME ON!
So, he along with 2 other tricks- one of them being a former member of Destiny’s Child- hosted the show and made me wish for anything but THEM! I was annoyed, but didn’t turn because I had to see the Chaka Khan tribute.

Let me tell you something, another reveal about myself, I LOVE anticipating the opening act of an awards show. I get giddy, like I am opening the show…but I wasn’t. It was Toni Braxton-blonde and at a piano- and Trey Songz. I don’t get all the hype about that dude- I mean he is attractive and doesn’t make my ears bleed, but I am real ‘meh’ when it comes to him. Perhaps its cuz when he first came out he had cornrows and sang a favorite song ‘Just Gotta Make It’. He seemed earnest and humble…now he’s talking about how he invented sex. Eff that dude. Eff his black patent leather shoes. Eff all the hype about he and Toni Braxton making out on stage INFRONT of her husband and then causing their divorce- PUHLEASE. I kiss my bro more hardcore than that- okay I don’t, but I’m just saying that kiss wasn’t all that. Call it what it is people- PUBLICITY. Toni has an album coming out. He is the new schlong on the table. It is what it is. Now, if they straight boned on stage, I’d believe the hype.

Terrence ‘Babywipes’ Howard and Taraji P. ‘I got a weave y’all’ Henson were the hosts of the evening. I mean…yeah, they were entertaining, but I could’ve done without a lot of it…but then I would’ve fallen asleep. So I dunno. Defenitely didn’t need all the references to their lackluster films…well some, not all…and my eyes n’ ovaries could’ve done without the MAKEOUT! All in all they should stick to acting and NOT singing-like really, that’s what they have SINGERS for…or so I am told.
Like during that whole Motown tribute, they could’ve gotten 3 really great singers to be The Supremes, but instead it was Taraji and 2 secretaries who work for BET. Not cool. Hmm, that new singer Melanie Fiona sang something. She has a lot of hair.
Estelle was also part of the tribute and I *heart* her, she sang with some no-name yellow chick. Hmmm. More importantly, Johnny Gill came out and sang ‘My, My, My’ which is a fave of mine. It is just sooooo damn serious!!!-even if Johnny is singin’ to a dude. There is totally NOTHING wrong with that, just stop frontin’ Johnny.
Either before or after the whole Motown thing, Ryan ‘I am a nerd who gets laid now’ Leslie performed. Like, I wanna like him…and even own his CD, but I want to punch him non-stop. Not in a good way either. He was also singing a song about calling a chick his good friend-but remember you’re not his girl, you’re just bonin’ and he takes you for brunch sometimes-but don’t get it twisted. This is meaningless because any kind of real relationship would require depth and I am a dude…who has the depth of a Louis Vuitton messenger bag.
Thankfully Mr. Leslie wasn’t on long, but then Mario and some dude who should only sing in the shower (with no one within earshot) came out. They looked like two pretty boys at the club who decided form a group-Mario can sing though which was a nice change.
This is not going to be in order because I was busy checking the weather and pissy because Beyonce` won ALBUM OF THE YEAR???!! REALLY?!- Oh, and what’s with Keri Hilson winning ALL the awards. I am glad it wasn’t Beyonce`, but COME ON! Her songs are catchy and she is nice to look at, but really?! Over Chrisette Michelle?
Anyways, a tribute was made to Charlie Wilson formerly of The Gap Band. I was definitely 2-stepping to the songs…and paid special attention to who sang one of my all-time favorite tunes ‘Outstanding’. Thankfully it was Raheem Devaughn-who I just love. I KNOW, am sounding like such a ‘neo-souler’, but I really am not. So put away the knitwear and Djembe’s. Those who REALLY know me, know that I am asshole who enjoys a great voice…hot lyrics and a beat to pop my ass to. Tis all. Mr. Wilson still has an amazing voice, and has this new song out about meeting a woman at the mall and how she is the only-iest woman for him. *sigh* I love that song! It is my JAM!
There was a small Michael Jackson tribute. His death is still something I don’t believe…after trying to wrap my head around it I listened to ‘Human Nature’.

This has nothing to do with the show, but there was a commericial for Mariah Carey’s perfume set. This brought back memories of when I tried one of her scents and walked around smelling like a baby whore. It was HORRIFIC! Love Mariah. Love the voice, the songwriting, the trashy Lycra cut-outs…but will NEVER buy her perfume’s. Never ever.

OH, I think during the Motown tribute Chico DeBarge sang ‘I Like It’ (another favorite) by his brother El. Sadly, I believe El just got out the slammer on some drug charges. Chico did right by his bro and all light skinned people.
Then Robin Thicke came out. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like the IDEA of Robin Thicke. Have had a long standing complicated and fruitless love of ‘White Chocolate’. So, Robin Thicke with his soul stylings and lovely Black wife go accordingly with that…but then he sings live and I want to punch things…and him. Falsetto’s are nice, but his-when not in studio- makes my loins go dry and kinda makes me wanna go through a ‘kick a White dude’ phase.
Hmm…
Okay, FINALLY the Chaka Khan tribute!!!!!! I grew up on a steady diet of Chaka Khan. Like my mom would’ve disowned me if I didn’t know at least ONE of her songs by heart. Luckily, I know them all. Even the ones with Rufus-don’t test. Anyways, it was a great tribute to a fabulous performer-could’ve done without Fantasia’s racket, but hey…I am no American Idol winner…sooo…

Overall, I like where the Soul Train Awards head was at, but I almost fell asleep once and checked the weather in Spain twice- in case I go sometime soon. That may mean something.

Friday, November 27, 2009

The Place Where I Work: Hours Become Minutes Become Seconds

I knew today was going to be slow. Made worse only by my fatigue. Fatigue from eating and resting all day yesterday.
Slept soundly on the train and openly yawned while online at Starbucks. Mi Amour AKA the Starbucks barista who loves me was there. He says he is giving me space today because he can sense my need for it. Wow. Is this my soul mate or what?
When I entered the office and saw House of Pain's head on her desk. I knew today might be an AMAZING day. Even though it would be quiet and I would contemplate why I am out of bed- then I would remember money and Drake. Good ole Drake...
Anyways, HOP then informs me that she is still drunk from last night. This made me very excited and slightly envious because being drunk at work is pretty spectacular-as long as it doesn't happen often and as long as you don't pass out...or make out with plants.
To keep her head off the desk-because it was quiet- she and I sang Lady Gaga's Poker Face and proceeded to do hand n' shoulder choreographies. It was pretty fantastic.

Suddenly it got a little busy- I am a conference room coordinator, which means I book conference rooms. Smile. Greet. Talk like I know whats up and care. I accommodate. I am poised. I write most of the day and entertain myself with meaningless flirtations and dancing with House of Pain.
Pretty sweet gig.
After working for the combined time of 1 hour, I spend the rest of my time writing, emailing and trying to make Drake fall in love with me-
BEFORE I get to Drake, let me explain why you should never give yourself ultimatums.
Recently I was telling a friend how I am really try to get over my crush. Then when I feel I am all good, I have a dream about him. I say to my friend: that's it! if I have ANOTHER dream about that dude I am telling him 'hey, I know you could give a yule log (holidays yall) about me, but imma be here liking you till ya do'. very John Hughes of me.
Then of course THAT NIGHT I have another dream about the dude. I wake up thinking it was real-then becoming angry when I realized it was all a dream. Being an avid talker of shit, I am not saying JACK to dude, and am hoping the situation will remedy itself.
Wish me luck.

Back to Drake. I figured a quiet day like today, I could use my charms for good. I see Drake and barely say 2 sentences before he glares at me and mumbles something. He ALMOST smiles-could've been a snarl.
Am getting nowhere fast with this dude. Its not that I want someone to bone in an utility closet- because I wouldn't really do that...I'd think it though, its just that I think we'd be great buddies. He has to realize SOON how cool I am or I am going to lose my patience and start calling him Drake to his face. That'll give him more reason to hate me...and so our affair begins.

Another reason why I may pull an HOP and be asleep at my desk is that I am wearing comfortable professional clothing- extra room from Turkey Day pouch- and when I am comfy and thoughts of leftovers dance in my head...can pretty much sleep REAL easy.

Turkey Day Poem by Me

Almost faint with hunger, close to losing all that is cool
Hunger pang to memory spark
I know why this must be done
Why I wait and suffer, hoping that the chunks of time taken by movie watching
Will quiet the growls of my stomach
It yearns to be filled and it vows revenge if I continue to fill it
With coffee’s, spiked egg nogs and water
The game is over, no more toying around not when
Wine soaked seasoned meats massage my nostrils
I can see the mac n’ cheese waiting on the table
So innocent, yet so lethal with its cheese
Fighting the urge to sacrifice prayer for one nip of stuffing
My eyes water as the turkey is sliced and the meat falls of the bone
Speaking is not an option, unless I want my Super Hardcore tee to be drenched in saliva
When the first forkful passes through my lips and into my mouth
It is like Sam Cooke is singing and there are shirtless Native American male teen-wolves
Singing and dancing around me
A warm feeling passes through me and after plate one is done
A familiar feeling, the ‘itis takes over
And there I am slumped over, food lust filled
Crumbs rest on the corners of my mouth
Eyes are like venetian blinds with slits of sight
Through the dense fog of pleasure I see that it was all worth it
Next year I will be strong though, less liquids more aching stomach PAIN!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The Place Where I Work: Like Ass-less Chaps

My hands smell like meat. - PAUSE!
Hamburger meat. This could be because I INHALED a bacon cheeseburger with grilled onions and lettuce- because I am health conscience. I then made B buy me a fudge brownie milkshake along with one for herself- okay I shouldn't say MADE, more like asked nicely and she obliged. I got her next week, and most likely it will be a stiff cocktail. Holla!
Speaking of stiff cocktails- I have this habit of digging myself into awkward holes. You see, at lunch B and I were discussing my infatuation with Drake. It really is just something to help the day go by, and I feel all safe because he has NO INTEREST me and looks at me like I stink.
Anywho, so B says give it time...and he'll be stalking me...and I'll hate him. *sigh* Young love. B also added that he doesn't talk much- which made me say that still waters run deep...and that most likely he's THAT dude that you think is all quiet...and then the bedroom door clicks behind him and I am left wearing assless chaps cuz anything else hurts.
I say these things...and then I have to come back to work and see Drake. Drake who already hates me, who is now getting skeeved out by my crazy stare as I try not to laugh...thinking about him putting me in assless chaps.

Another problem that is arising, is how cool B and I are. Separately we're pretty fantastic, but together its like.woah! Several people have come to me and said they want to have drinks with us because we seem like a blast outside of work. If they ONLY KNEW, but seriously-fall back. Its wayyyy too early to show them the true extent of our coolness...don't want bitches to fall in love...
OH speaking of LOVE. I don't know HOW I do it, but it gets done. One of my Starbucks barista's (a dude, whew) admitted that he thinks he loves me and will be the only one serving me (HA!) till he figures out how to make me love him.
I stared open mouthed as he proceeded to make my drink. Sometimes the things that happen in my life are pretty sweet...and I am guaranteed some free gingerbread loaf EVERYDAY which goes against my chinchilla bikini diet. Me+diet= NEVER, but I have dreams of it being really cold and I have on wedge heeled furry boots and a chinchilla bikini. I think my bod is fine, but could stand a lil toning. Will keep you updated on my progress.

Overall the workday has been quiet due to it being Thanksgiving tomorrow (EXCITING). Because I am one of the new peeps I don't have the option of leaving too early, which means I can write and reflect. Reflect and write.
...hopefully I won't just sit here and think up ways to spend my first paycheck!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Place Where I Work: Mews and Bear Humps

Sometimes my charms are lost on others, and sometimes they aren't. Thankfully, when I was caught making cat sounds- I haven't totally gone loca, was making low cat sounds to emphasize the hotness of this dude that walked by. My coworker found it funny, as did I. Then I realized the dude heard me.
Yep. He comes back and is like: is there a cat around?
Me: yep, we are letting one loose a couple of days because of the mice- (which almost seems feasible because the company just unleashed 2 new floors...and moves sometimes bring rodents.)
The hot guy: why not just get an exterminator?
Me: its greener this way.
We stare at each other. I think there was a mental understanding that I was full of shit, but mad clever and he was okay with that.
He leaves for real...and I laugh n' laugh.

Took another gander at 'Christmas World' again. It is truly fantastic. There are bears cooking. Penguins twirling and polar bears humping. Nothing says Christmas magic like some yuletide CHEER AKA bonin'. Especially when its done by two polar bears wearing wintry hats with poms-poms and scarves.

Oh and the day gets better....CloseUp and I are in a pseudo war. I let her know I am willing to knife-fight her for Drake's affections. She is down-you know drama is her thing. CloseUp is okay with me though because during conversations about our skin regimen, I disclosed my sensitive yet good skin genes and she spoke of her Puerto Rican pores (she is half). I am a sucker for good word play, so she is cool with me...unless she doesn't back-off m'boo Drake...who still on looks at me with disdain.
Oh well.
Countdown to TURKEY ANNIHILATION '09!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, November 23, 2009

Another Reason...

I sometimes wonder why I even like dudes...is this.

So, a few months ago I was seeing this dude. Immediately I knew it wouldn't go further than some Vietnamese and some make out. I was very cool with our mutual non-communication that took place following our momentous time together-not!!! Once (in my distant past), I would've needed closure and whatnot, now I am all like NEXT...which means I spend a lot of time alone thinking about who I am not dating and why I don't have the flexibility of a jungle cat.
This passed weekend, MANY months after mutual non contact. I kinda- no I actually forgot about the dude. Also have a habit of just editing peeps number out of my phone- because I feel I'll be getting so many MORE numbers! HAHAHAHAHHA! At least I've got a sense of humor-
The dude friggin' texts me! He types up a long poetic text about timing and how great I am...blah blah...and I am all like-WHO THE HELL IS THIS?
I pretty much type that hoping its not a chick.
He texts me back his name and such- and I remember. Wow. Okay.
THEN....THEN...he asks me out via text.
Like even though I HAVE NOTHING going on guy-wise, EFF THAT DUDE! Like seriously. Months later I am supposed to be like-OH SHIT, thank goodness you contacted me-YES you complete me. Let's go to the movies.
Fuck that.
That dude can choke on a 2 testes and twist.

My instant rage and lack of forgiveness could be more reasons why I am single. Add them to the list.

The Place Where I Work: Case of the Monday's...

Mondays, MTA, sick passenger, 1 hour on train.
That is how the day began. Needless to say I was in no mood. One of my Starbucks peeps even mentioned my grumpiness, and I apologized, and said blame the MTA. She then added whipped cream to my drink- and I don't think it required it, but everything tastes better with whipped cream.
The rest of the day seemed to coast, but I am not sure if I feel all bleah because I spent most of my weekend in some kind of inebriated state or if its just a case of the Mondays. Hmmm.
Am also feeling a certain way about a dream I had where I was having brunch with friends...and my boo...and we had a BABY! Me and the person who was my boo in the dream are not even close to conceiving a thought much less a child- though the fun we would have making it...if only this person thought of me half as much.
Anywho, the kid was cute, which helps....but am still freaked out. This could all be tequila induced though, so who knows.

Nothing too exciting with the work day except I don't think Drake hates me, I just think he is sizing me up. Trying to decide where I stand: cool, annoying, bearable, doable. Hopefully, I fall under cool and doable ( am a Gemini and we thrive on duality).
Forgot to mention how interesting my ID pic is. I've mentioned before how me and ID pics never work out. This time I had a plan. I wore a great color close to my face-a magenta top- and I practiced my 'good angle' a la Mariah Carey steez. Of course none of this worked. I look semi-retarded/yet professional in my ID pic and the company has an online directory. If you were able to look me up, you would ask yourself: is she full Japanese or Korean...because I look 100% Asian. I also look pink in the face- and you know how most Asians turn red after one drink. That's how I look. Amazing.

Perhaps Drake has looked me up and deemed me a freak...a freak he wants to plow, but has no idea WHY??!!
That's what its like for most guys and me. They want it, yet don't know why.

The highlight of the day has to be CHRISTMAS WORLD aka the lobby of my building. Some people have tree's and a few menorah's. This company has TREE's (like 10), snow, toy solders, Jews dressed as dreidels, African-Americans explaining Kwanzaa, gift boxes-like 100, dancing dolls, and literally a Christmas house. I stare at it every time I go by it- which was this morning and during lunch. I stare in wonder...and also to see if I notice something new.
It is a feast for the eyes and better be a peek to how fab the holiday party is going to be.

Friday, November 20, 2009

The Place Where I Work: So far....

Week one is IN THE BAG!!!!!!
There were moments. Moments I wondered if it was too late for me. Too late for me and the rich douche bags out there. Could I be a stripper or make my way to the infamous Bunny Ranch in Vegas, and just involve myself in that lifestyle. Ton of money for little work and thought. Write as I sat in a hot bath of Clorox.
Decided I would be okay in the corporate world again, and that I only had to get up at 5AM for a few days, and then I wouldn't have to be at work till 11AM. Do you understand what a motivation that was??? Sleep is very important to me, its on the same level as eating. I need both to be the lovely wretch I am.:)
Establishing a relationship with my in-house Starbucks, ALSO helped with the slight raping of soul and sensible pumps I would be wearing. We all know that my Starbucks relationships are important!-also the fact that I have TWO Starbucks in my vicinity. One for each building. Am not LYING!!! Its like a dream- also means I'll need to establish more relationships. No doubt I can do it!

Speaking of relationships, lets talk about some of the characters I work with. I have names for only a few now because I like to take my time and really put thought into the names given. Now, B is my friend who let me know about the job opening...and B is just going to go by B. We are mostly on the same page about people except B is a lil nicer than I-shocking, right? We always hit the nail on the head with our character evaluations...so needless to say, its been a funny couple of days as we compare notes. I will compare B's and my work day to that of Pam Grier and her White counterpart in the classic film: Black Mama, White Mama (came out it 1972, look it up and WATCH, its pretty fantastic). We're more hilarious though.
Then there is CloseUp. She is an actresssssssssssssssssss. You know the type. If you don't, just go to a cafe` or restaurant in Midtown and just say:any actorsss around? Someone will respond, and then you just observe. They will talk n' talk. They will act ALL the time because its in their blood. They will often wonder why they are single out loud and why dudes just disappear-OKAY maybe that's just CloseUp. Oh, and you would also notice how they are OBSESSED with B who HAPPENS to be a playwright. Hmmm...
Don't get me wrong. CloseUp is pretty cool and bearable, but I knew once she mentioned a friend of HERS was starting as well, that shit was about to get REAL. REALLY REAL! CloseUp's buddy, B and I have deemed CrazyEyes because the chick has crazy.eyes! They along with the talking to herself, white lace gloves-like yeah, white.lace.gloves, and her eerie staring at ME mostly has made me deem her INSANE! Me and crazy people get along at a distance...and I found that she was staring at me because she wanted to offer me some M&M's, but instead of speaking she stared at me till I had to give in from avoiding eye contact and give her the exasperated WHAT? -was getting my learn on. All she does is hold up the bag of M&M's and I say 'no thanks'. Woah.
There are many high lites to my day. Free treats- like Oreo cookie cake- and free lunches that include asparagus, filet mignon and shrimp cervice. Yeah. I wasn't playin' when I said the place smells like c-notes and black cards. Seeing B, who I rarely see all the time is also GREAT.
House of Pain is another high lite. She is a bundle of rage and intelligence- hence HOP because she is Irish and GANGSTA, yo. HOP is pretty spectacular and will probably stab 5 people before I am there a month...she is studying to be a nurse though which shows her complexity. Rage filled with an amazing bedside manner. Drake-not the REAL ONE- the one that works at my job (dude looks like the REAL Drake, but may be a tad cuter). Drake intrigues me because he doesn't give a fuck and may have been asking peeps if they knew the title of a song-he then sang the song and would get all kinds of frustrated with people by saying they weren't musically inclined when they didn't guess correctly. One of the people he asked was CloseUp who thinks that Drake wants her pixie bod- she really is toddler sized though so I doubt it...but then again WHAT do I know?!
Anyways, CloseUp didn't know and Drake said she was wack. He didn't ask me, he just eyed me...well eyes me. He doesn't like me I don't think-not that I care, but I fear this will make me like him! Sick and sad, I know, but to me its easier that way. When guys start catching feelings, I gets stalked.....HA!-no, but seriously....

Overall though, things are cool. I am getting paid, peeps are aight, Starbucks (where I am already getting free upgrades, my charm is stupendous...okay its cuz my professional gear fulfills the whole dirty librarian fantasy...I think), free food and the countdown to the holiday party!!!! December 15th, bitches!

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Place Where I Work: Wait, This Was Supposed To Be About Work, Right?

Remember how I said that me leaving my house before the sun came up would land me in an Law & Order:SVU episode?
Well that almost happened.
They were filming (Law&Order:SVU) right in between my 2 office buildings. Yeah, two buildings. - wait, I must interrupt this to mention how I am watching Single In The City: South Beach...actually it doesn't matter the city-THESE WOMEN SUCK!
The dudes do too. Are people really this lame?? If this is what is going on out there- I am good. GOOD!.....there is a woman on here, a cougar if you will, who is dating a dude the same age as her daughter. Her daughter who works at Hooters and tells her mom that the dude is soooo hot (AKA eff you moms for picking from my pool and I am going to bone him while you're gettin' 'toxed or hormone treatments!). The guy looks like its a miracle he didn't get the whole bottle of gel in his eyes- meaning he looks dumb. After dinner at Hooters, the mom goes home to try on the wedding dress she already owns!!!!! She dances around in it and knows she will wear it one day soon. Not only is the dress ugly, her situation is ugly.
I happened upon the show and wanted to have it as background noise-okay, okay I enjoy watching and hating. It also makes me feel better about myself- Ha! I really am a simple beast.- UM WOAH, this one chick thinks she's a singer and songwriter. I'd rather be teabagged in both my ears!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay I am turning.

Back to work. So far, so good. The usual in corporate...people thinkin' that I should really care about the drama. Really? Am only a few days in, people. Not that I ever agreed to care, and I don't. This is a paycheck with awesome benefits...and perks. When I am there, I do my job...I smirk to keep from saying inappropriate things to this one dude (mmmm), and when I leave...I uh, leave. If there is drama, I still won't care because there are bigger things going on in this world. BIG TINGS (and I meant tings). Like, how do I wear a purple Lycra catsuit without shaming myself and my family??
I do enjoy having a stable gig, that I don't mind and like the people...maybe because I am ALREADY friends with one of the people I work with. More on that in coming blogs.
Its a job I can do and still concentrate on goals. Goals that can be financed by me...not some douche.
Um, and I already have a Starbucks because it is in my building. Like in the lobby, so I don't have far to go to get a fix-haven't charmed anyone yet because its been TOO EARLY and I am just happy to be there, yo.

Monday, November 16, 2009

The Place Where I Work: All Good in the Hood

At some point during this past weekend I was over at a friends house and we were looking at a pic of another friend of mine...who happened to male-okay, maybe we were Facebook stalking- and my friend says, "Woah his eyes are intense" and I say, "Yeah, they look like he would be looking you dead in the eye while fuckin' you."
Again I was applauded for my ability to take.it.there and then I thought about today, the first day of a new job where you get fucked all bashful like- then again, maybe I just wanted to share that story.
All in all, we know how I feel about the beginnings of things. Everything is wonderful. People think you're swell and don't show the monster beneath till YOU'RE IN IT...or like a month or so. I equate it to new relationships. Good times.

Of course I have already formulated opinions and feel I will be okay here, but I'll let you know by the end of this week. For right now, I must concentrate on being here at 7:30AM. Me. Its for training purposes and I am getting paid, but...me. Seven-thirty AM! That's the morning. Like if I had to be at an airport or something I'd be fine...but um, to come to Midtown-that is ALL I'll disclose (mooohahahah)- doesn't seem feasible. It seems more like I'll be leaving my house before the sun comes up and be a possible SVU victim (Law & Order...my favorite one, not just cause of Ice-T, but the ensemble). I know myself well enough to know, by Friday...someone is getting shanked. Could be a friend. Person on the train. Possible lover...but someones skin is getting penetrated by something sharp and I will be holding the instrument and smiling wildly.
Speaking of splitting skin. I came up with this gem today when discussing the hotness of dudes so far (which will take me awhile to attain since the company is LARGE) and I replied with: have seen no one worth splitting lips over.
As in dropping seed....you know HAVING kids??!!
Yeah. I am a class act.

Oh, I cheated. Totally cheated. I worked somewhere on Friday and didn't blog...because I kinda wanted to blow the place up, but then didn't care because I got this job offer and was on cloud 9 for the rest of the day. The place did have Twizzlers AND a pervy stalker for me!
I'll call him Vince Vaughn...because he looked like Vince Vaughn. He was enamored from 9AM till 5:35PM...and I was just like Vince, back the eff up and carry these boxes for me. He did prove himself useful, but sadly didn't realize that I only like dudes that don't like me back...DUH, Vince Vaughn.
Plus, the whole pervy stalker thing, which sounds good on paper, but in the end, is not so cool.
Wish me luck on getting here at SEVEN.THIRTY.AM

Saturday, November 14, 2009

A-HA Moments

The moments where everything comes clear. On the spot clarity...almost epiphany-like, a time where personal truths are revealed for me to laugh at and ponder.

- getting called out by m'boy E for writing my ode to Thanksgiving (Gobble, Gobble Gobble...Bitches) on Veterans Day. Like I don't respect the men and women who fought for this country, and either died or came back and are/were treated worse than criminals. Come on now! I am just so excited about TDay. It cannot be contained.

- we've been talking about it, planning, strategizing...and now I can truly comprehend that m'girl Double Deuce is moving from Boston to Brooklyn!! DD will be an amazing addition to the city-you'll thank me later.:)

- as I walked into a company I was interviewing with-I literally smelled money. The place smelled like endless office supplies, free lunch and lacked that air of desperation...and 'money's tight bitches'. Free bottled water is a sure sign too. Another good sign is I got the job. Holy holiday party, Batman.

- I think Turkish bread is my favorite. So warm n' soft. Mmmmmm

- had a long conversation about how amazing it is to be the rare native New Yorker with this dude who's a fellow native. Just about how on point we are...and clever. Genuinely, better people. :)

- while on the train minding my own business, reading a book even-this guy gets on. He is all unassuming and White. After 10mins he looks around himself- am seeing this with my peripheral (you know, the whole Brooklyn eyes thing)- and says quite profoundly, "I love Black women." I look around, and yes, it seems besides myself there are like 4 other Black women surrounding him. All various shades and ages. A few begin chuckling, I am still eyeing him- he then looks at me and says, "Sorry, I don't know what you are...but I am throwing you in with the bunch." I angrily squint my eyes at him-still not speaking because I am gauging how crazy this dude is. One of the beautiful loved Black women then says, "Well, she looks Latina and they're close to us anyways...."
Yes, this really happened. Too bad I had to get off the next stop so I couldn't continue to listen to the debate on my race and whether this White guy could love me. He did look at me and sigh as I exited the train. I said, "I am Black y'all." The women all laughed. He almost looked like he wanted to get off the train too-thankfully that didn't happen.
This almost escapes the confines of an A-Ha Moment...its more like a Magical Moment.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble...Bitches!

It shouldn't be surprising that my favorite holiday is Thanksgiving, I mean you pick any three blogs I've written and it will involve me eating, cooking or thinking about eating or cooking. Its what/how I do. I love food. As a kid, I would be just as excited about Turkey Day as I was about Christmas. Now, I am more excited about giving Christmas gifts and eating till it hurts on Turkey Day.
People try to make it hard to like this day with talk of poor turkey treatment and how there is nothing THANKFUL about how Native folk are treated- this especially makes me ashamed since I have Native blood flowing through the veins, but with all the casino's I feel better about things.:)
Nothing can deter my love for the holiday that involves pies, various meats, plentiful starches, when egg nog is first put out for the holiday season, and...oh yeah, family!
My parents being somewhat smart peeps, kept the drama to a minimum by not inviting a lot of the family. So there were no big reveals or fights- the worst part was the waiting. Smelling all the good food smells and waiting till so n' so got here or till it was at least 5 'clock. Since we tried the Thanksgiving Day Parade one year...well twice. Once for me and once for my bro. This may have been when I developed my crowd anxiety-yes, I am a New Yorker who doesn't do crowds!
Anywho, tried the parade and realized it wasn't for us...so we did movies. My dad, bro and I would go to movies. We wouldn't eat popcorn, just drink because the 'TDay Fast' had to be reinforced.
Through the years, my love for the holiday hasn't wavered, but traditions change. There were the years after my parents split, then there was the time my mom went away for the holiday-still cooking before she left because she values her life, or the time I actually helped with the cooking. This was big because I don't wanna ruin a good thing. My mom can THROW.DOWN!!! As I get older and think about starting my own family I realize I need to learn how she makes the magic happen. Not all at once because if I knew how to make my moms oyster stuffing or how to bake a sweet potato pie...I would fulfill my goal of being so LARGE I am bed ridden. Who wants to be 800lbs? I DO! Why? Hey, I watch them documentaries on peeps who eat like 30,000 calories a day. Sure, the thought of eating 5 whole chickens in one sitting makes my stomach turn...but uh, they're getting married, having kids...living a life! If I could do all that from my bed AND eat 3 bacon cheeseburgers...OH MAN, would be so elated, like when one of them chicks from that show For The Love of Ray J gets her test results back and she only has 1 or 2 STD's instead of 5. Mad happy, yo!
So, I don't learn everything till I fully comprehend moderation. I got a crash course in moderation last Thanksgiving when I pretty much ate myself SICK. Like couldn't leave my house AND couldn't eat-SICK. Sad times.

This year I am going to be better with it though. Stronger. More moderate. I'm going to learn how to make my moms stuffing fo'sho'. I won't start test runs of the stuffing till about January or February-and won't eat it all myself.
....I guess it really isn't all about food for me though-like I really thought it was, I've been invited to Thanksgiving dinner by some friends, but there's NO WAY I can miss out on eating with my mom, bro and whomever else we invite.
Even The Rabbi invited me-jokingly- for some buffalo wings on TDay...because he is from Buffalo and that is how they do.:P Though I enjoy a good joke about 'stuffing' and buffalo wing appetizers, The Rabbi must quit fiddlin' with my emotions. Involving food and possible ass play- or fondling is what he's known for...HA! HA!- involving those 2 things is just mean!...or another life lesson for The Darkness. When he's about to get all cozy with the fam...and perhaps a special lady (acceptance, part of getting over it:) )...and I show up. With pie and elastic waist pants-he'll never fiddle again! Hmmm...

Truly, I don't think words can express how much I love eating-um, this holiday. Something about gathering together and just being appreciative of what you have...and each other, is a beautiful thing. Also the feeling of being so full that you sit slumped to the side like a fat house cat= priceless.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Catchin' Feelings.

I've been asked if my blog is a reflection of my soul-as in my feelings and every aspect of my existence, and my answer is simple-no.
Please don't feel cheated because I do reveal a lot of the insanity that are the inner workings of my mind-most of the time...and IT IS easier for me to express my feelings with the written word because if I do so vocally it will be: mumbled, disjointed, or mostly be curse words-which can be effective, but lack emotional depth...well...sometimes.
It may be hard to tell, but I am a sensitive being....and may have issues with feelings (nothing more than feeeeelings). Besides fearing fear itself, I fear catching me some feelings. This is not just about dudes (though I punch the air when I likes me a dude and start a countdown till when I'll hate him), it's about EVERYTHING. I think this stems from my shy, quiet, sensitive and loving youth. Man, I loved everything and everyone. Was just open and accepting (yeah, I am REALLY from Brooklyn). Believed in the goodness of people. Giver of many hugs (even to thugs) and held many hands.
Then I got slapped in the face by the dicks of life, and it made me more aware of things- like how sometimes people do sucky things. Of course one learns you don't allow people to change you....or steal your shine-but walls get built and you don't put everything on your blog.:)
Anywho, so I don't like feeling things because that means I care...and caring means I can get hurt or want to kick throats in. Means if it goes away I'll miss it. Awww. Slowly, I'm becoming more emotionally mature and am handling things better. It's okay to care. It's okay not to. If things get effed, oh well, I've dealt with and will deal with a lot worse.
Its been a slow process though. Slow.

A lot of it has to do with being a proactive human being. Not just sitting around with your head up your own ass-or mine...unless...
I mentioned a few blogs ago about how I was looking into volunteering because I'm sick of it being all me, me, me. Being part of 'the bigger picture' helps with keeping things in perspective and being emotionally sound. Put out good, and it feels real good. You get over being scared of ...feelings, and just living life. Being appreciative of what you have and humbled by all you don't know. The ability to feel and not be a scared girl about it, is simply the best.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

The Place Where I Work: Like Groundhog Day, but not...

It felt like the movie 'Groundhog Day' today. My day seemed to go the same as yesterday:

- wake up after sleeping for about 3 good hours
-get dressed, clothes are miraculously ironed and match
-somehow make it on train
- am in zombie-like state
- get lost in train station (I should be flogged with 100 hot dogs and rats should chew off my fingernails for being a native New Yorker)
- trip...falling into passerby
- stumble into Starbucks
- realize that I cannot order coffee by grunting, and concentrate on forming sentences
- feel better after drinking coffee, but want to sleep under desk immediately...can't

...the only difference was I voted today, which is always an experience in Sheepshead Bay. Let's just say my district...zone...whatnot is not filled with people of color. So going to vote is like being the first Black person who walked into the diner that just took down (because they kinda HAD to) their 'Whites only' sign. Hush of crowd. Whispering. No dogs or water hoses-which is nice.

The Matador's looks of lust were another consistent thing, the difference was my lack of interest. He is still hot...and if this were another day-like tomorrow- I would be all excited and do my usual imagined situations...involving him, me and some sofrito.
Today I didn't have the capacity to have deep thoughts and sweet, sweet fantasy. Luckily I was able to discuss my deep thoughts with a friend, and put everything in perspective. Then I was able to focus on keeping my eyes open and form sentences. No extra energy for humor or flirtation, just enough to not growl at people.

The win of the day was when I popped something in my mouth-pause- just as The Matador walks by my desk (which seemed to be his route all day). He looks at me, smirks...and then looks down at his crotch.
Can't make this stuff up-and I didn't throw up in my mouth because I was impressed by his non-blatant/blatant sexual harassment. It was pure genius because it was almost like I was sexually harassing him!!!
Would bow down to him...but...uh...yeah...

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Place Where I Work: The Look

For some reason I could not sleep last night. This made getting up and ready for work...great. Mostly I was a zombie with headphones, and though I knew where I was going-to the best assignment ever. The place involving hot dudes and soccer, I got turned around and slightly lost because I was sooooo zombie-like. Even had a hard time ordering my coffee at Starbucks, but luckily I made it through...and after a few gulps...I knew I would be alright.
Then I remembered the hot Japanese dude on the train who was watching me as I slept-I know this because when I woke up he was still looking. There was also this other HOT dude I am going to go out on a limb and say he's a jerk...simply because he had on a well-tailored suit and had a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. Which I still find hot for some reason, but it was 8AM and something about that just reads:sleazy. Still sexy though. These pleasant memories of hotness carried me through most of the morning since most of the resident hot dudes were running late due to running the NYC marathon yesterday.
All these athletic peeps....except for the chick I call Lumpy, who ran the marathon-good on her- but then walked like she had been gang banged by a group of dudes fresh out of Sing Sing. I thought to myself: this is why I don't run marathons.
Even if I wouldn't mind getting trained by most of these dudes...and by 'trained' I mean banged out repeatedly.
Speaking of 'banged out'...let's talk about The Matador. Our relationship has been a roller coaster. He started out hating me. Then he loved me. Now he wants to show me HOW MUCH he loves me. Remember I am the girl who NEVER knows when a dude wants to put.it.in...unless he says so or demonstrates. So picture me getting THE LOOK from The Matador. That man made me shiver. I contemplated some strong sexual harassment techniques, but decided against it. Would ride it out-THEN he asks me if I am leaving soon....I stare him a few moments before I PLAY IN MY HAIR and say ohhh yeah. Not in a friendly coworker way, it was in a 'I am thinking about you nekked' way. He gave me THE LOOK again, and I realized I had to check myself, before I wrecked myself indeed.
Thank goodness for Justin Fingerbang and his disdain for my non-athleticism. Since I am loved by everyone, I was given a shitload of candy. Since I am nervous because I am contemplating taking.it.there with The Matador in the closet, I am downing mini Snickers bars. JF does NOT approve.
May need to sic my ole friend Dracul on him. Dracul must have that ancient ring that allows vamps to walk in the daylight because he and I rode the elevator down together when I was on my way to lunch. He was very happy to see me and commented on how he hadn't turned his watch back and proceeded to do so without his eyes leaving my face. Damn you Dracul.
What if Dracul found out about The Matador's AKA his daytime helper's, intentions towards me???? Have to keep the secret from coming out...yet get Dracul to put JF in a trance where he eats only corn dogs and that 7 pattie Whopper that's out in Japan.

The Time I Was Wendy Williams for Halloween….



…AKA a study of men, women and aggressives (hardcore diggity dykes) and their reactions to breasts even when they look outrageously FAKE.
Being broke and creative are the ingredients for genius. Since we all know my love for Halloween, we must also know I spend a greater part of September and October thinking about my costume…sometimes August if I think other people should be involved. Thinking doesn’t always equate with doing for me…so my costume isn’t finalized till about 3-4days before the BIG EVENT.
While contemplating being Oprah- walking around with a bag of money and giving out Matchbox cars- I stumbled upon Wendy Williams. I have *hearted* Wendy since her radio show. Love her honesty and drag queen qualities. I’ve even been called Wendy Williams because of my ability to know all the info and keep it real- I wouldn’t say I gossip though, I would call it talking shit.
Another lovely thing about Wendy is that she is a CHARACTER. She is tall, draggy, wears wigs, has a signature saying (how YOU doin’?) and has LARGE fake breasts. All I would do was make a mic to really bring it home who I was. So, I bought a wig and balloons. I knew I would have to wear heels because Wendy lives in them, and I would have to wear a jazzy outfit-that no matter WHAT would look almost slutty because of the large breasts I would have. No cleavage though, so I was all good…or so I thought.

A few things: I am naturally a SHY person and don’t like attention drawn to myself. I get that I am sexy and can take a complement, but get uncomfortable at times. I had to REALLY psyche myself up to do this because large breasts on this already RAVISHING figure (hahahha), and this lovely face was going to be TOO MUCH. Had to remember this was a costume and to HAVE FUN!

Here is where I give the play by play of my evening. I felt like Tyra when she put on that fat suit once and made herself feel better about being a former supermodel- having GIGANTIC BOOBS for one night made me so happy for my proportionate body. Thank hay-sus.

--As I left my apartment building this kid asks me if I am in costume, I respond with an eye roll and a YES. Then I bump into my building crush and he is like ‘WOAH’. I say ‘Happy Halloween’ . He says ‘indeed it is’. I then cross street and make my way to Stop n’ Shop to pick up snacks. A dude pulls over his car and begs me to tell him that my boobs are real. I says ITS HALLOWEEN!!! He tells me I am lovely. Woah. I near a group of teenage guys-dreading this. They all start laughing which makes me comfy. We laugh. Then one asks if I am a REAL woman because they’ve been seeing dudes as chicks and they think I am cute, but wouldn’t feel right about that if I was a dude. I say that I am a REAL woman…somewhat. Ha! I am about to enter Stop n’ Shop when this dude in a mask strolls next to me and says…’hey Wendy Williams’ and I say ‘how YOU doin?’! I was SOOOO happy he GOT IT!!! I wanted to high five him, but decided against that. Instead we talked Halloween parties and he tells me I’ve got nice legs, and that he KNOWS those are real. Good work. Once inside supermarket, a group of employee’s scream out ‘wait, are you Wendy Williams?’ and I respond, ‘how you doin?!’ They all laugh hysterically and again I am so excited people are getting it. Though more people are just excited about the breasts. I grab snacks and a group of people are like ‘BYE WENDY’ I say ‘BYE GUYS’ in my best Jersey accent. A woman taps me on the shoulder just as I get outside, ‘you’re supposed to be Wendy Williams, right?’ and I say ‘yep’. She claps and her husband explains that she (his wife who tapped me up) adores me AKA Wendy, and they were just really excited and a whole lotta fun. I am feeling good and ‘hearting’ costumes…and Wendy even more. Of course I got a lot of ‘nice tits, hooters and boobs’, but that was to be expected.

--My train ride was pretty uneventful till I stood up and I heard a lot of ‘hot damns’ and more prayers of hoping they were real. A few more people ‘got it’ and did the Wendy Williams Show ‘woop woop’. Loved that. A dude asked to take my picture- I covered face with wig. A few were excited to see me run for a train I almost missed. A lot of people were laughing-very good! Women were saying I had a great bod- REALLY?! A great bod for PORN. I mean really? I had to be like a triple F or something horrific- no offense to ladies carrying them REAL heavy loads- but NO THANK YOU. As I entered a Starbucks an aggressive was the first to actually rub up on my titties. I reprimanded her and said if they were real I would’ve punched her the fuck out. She liked that. Got a sweet discount on my coffee and brought glee to the barista’s as we said ‘how you doin?!” like 58 times!

--The first party I went to was a house party. Pretty chill and very cool. Everyone knew who I was and loved it. I let people rub on the titties and conducted mini interviews…mostly about my titties. After eating n ‘ drinking my fill, and making sure the Yanks were winning game 3, decided it was time to go to party number 2. There was supposed to be a number 3, but the tool quotient was too high and I was having a good night. This guy dressed as a tourist needed help getting to Essex street so I told him to follow my friend and I-he says FRIENDS looking at my ballooned titties- I chuckle and say ‘yes!’. Upon entering the F train I begin hearing ‘oh my goodness its WENDY!’ Half the train car is laughing and saying how my they love me AKA Wendy. We all say ‘how YOU doin?!’….but it wasn’t all love love in the club…or train. There was this group of girls who were cute and possibly my BIGGEST fans and there was this one chick with this guy. Beef was brewing between my fan club and this chick. Seems she deemed them skanks and they deemed her a wench. Thankfully, my large mams came between them…and quite literally moved the wench out of the way. The skanks applauded…and this happened.

Skank 1: Thanks Wendy! That chick has been getting on our nerves this whole train ride.
Me: Me and ‘the girls’ do what we can. (we all laugh, and by we all I mean half the train car)
Wench: …Like I even know who Wendy Williams is. I read!
Skank2: We all read.
Wench: Do you guys know who Jane Austen is?! Who cares about Wendy Williams.
Me: Of course we know who Jane Austen is, and reading is great…and so is pop culture. Doesn’t make one dumb to know these things. Now, do you know who wrote Twilight?? (the skanks are loving it, peeps are laughing, it’s a good time)
Wench: I don’t give a fuck about a Wendy Williams- (she goes on and my friend who knows me and knows my limitations gives me a look to see if I am going to put the chick in a headlock, I am still smiling though)
Skank1: Oh no she didn’t say that to Wendy Williams. Get her, Wendy!
Me: (I had been doing the Wendy Jersey accent this whole time, but soon went into my REAL voice-and by REAL I mean that ‘I will shank you voice, but I am keeping it professional) No, no. It’s all good. …..but people need to realize this is a costume and that I am from Brooklyn, and will choke a bitch.
**silence**
Skank3: Is it Delancey Street yet?
Me: Next stop, just follow me!
The Skanks: YAY!! WENDY!! We love you!!!
We all get off the train. I bump into a few more peeps who wanna take pics…there was MAD LOVE.

--Decide on NOT attending one party and go to another. Had peeps to meet anyways. The spot was dark, so my boobs were not noticed at first…but when they were. Ooo weeeeee! This party was being thrown by The Rabbi AKA The Darkness who normally has no interest in me or my body- who was now ogling my breasts like they were dancing dreidels or matzoh balls made of platinum. He also knew who I was immediately which was pretty cool. This gentleman…a RABBI even, found that his hands had minds of their own, and was soon fondling my boobs. Of course, because this is my luck, just as I am getting over my crush on him…we go to second base. Oy. The party was pretty sweet, and I had a lot of fans…was even runner up in the costume contest….but when it was time to go home-I was ready. Ready to be rid of my balloobs. So I released one into the air and gave one-still warm- to the dude who sat next to me and looked like he may have wanted to chat, but unfortunately I was DONE. Only so much a shy gal can take. He commented on the balloon warmth and I bounced, still wearing the outrageous blond wig…but feeling more like myself. Thankfully, NO MORE COMMENTS ABOUT MY BODY!

All in all, it was a pleasant experience. I was just astounded at how many people-DUDES mostly- thought the breasts were real and were excited. Just proves my theory that men just can’t help themselves. Real or OBVIOUSLY fake, they want to put.it.in. I mean, if a dude was walking down the street with what appeared to be the largest cock in the land, I don’t think many women would think it was real or would be too excited…cuz what are you gonna do with ALL that, really?!