Moments I'd Like To Forget, But Can't Stop Laughing About

For past week, I have been feeling a yi yi about life. I haven't really had too many laughs. Tomorrow is Friday and in honor of that, I'm going to start laughing out loud. You do know that's what LOL means even though most times when we type it, we're not actually laughing out loud. So, in my quest to lighten myself up, I'll start with the best comical subject I can find: ME.

Yes, yes, people, believe it not, hilarious things ALWAYS happen to me. So I'll give you three scenarios. One is a throwback, the other two are fairly recent.

Cheers To You

A couple of years ago I was on a first date with a hot guy. It was a lovely first date. Great atmosphere, dim lights, good sushi (finally, a man who likes it just as much as I) and even better conversation. For cocktails, I ordered my signature appletini. He later asked did I want to try some sake. He thought I was new to this, but I was a vet in the sushi/sake game. Of course, I'd like some. I don't care for the taste, but the buzz makes it worth it. To my surprise, they'd started serving mint-flavored sake. Yummy!

Before we took our first shot of the sake, we made a toast "to friendship and new beginnings" or something like that. Way to reel me in, huh? Between the conversation, jokes and crunchy crawfish rolls, I was rotating my martini and sake like a blunt. Talking, laughing and sipping. Everythang was everythang!

Then it was time to get up. As soon as I put my weight on my feet to stand, I felt horrible. I. Was. Drunk. While he turned away to talk to the server, I quickly got myself together. Fast forward to the jazz lounge we stopped by. In mid-sentence, I caught a dizzy spell and told him I needed to go to the ladies room. Twenty seconds later, I was locked in the stall, sick as hell. I had two options: Either throw up or pass out. Neither was acceptable for a first date (or second, third or fourth). I camped out there for a good minute, asking myself and God why did I have to double up on martinis and sake. I was literally praying to get me through the rest of the night. Finally, unlocked myself from the claustrophobic stall, freshened up and went back out to the lobby. Evidently, I was looking as crazy as a box of rocks. My date's expression said it all. As Bernie Mac said, he "looked at me like I was short." Then if that wasn't enough, he asked me if I needed to lay down.

Within two hours I'd gone from Sex in the City to Intervention. I guess I made an impression.

She Got Her Own

When I moved from my apartment to my house, I used a moving crew. The "crew" consisted of two guys. A hella young white guy who told me his life story while they were working and a middle-aged black guy who flirted with me while they were working. I didn't have anything to do so I got out of their way and sat in the corner of my dining room and played with my Blackberry. They were in my bedroom moving my dresser and mattress. The black guy had already asked me if I lived alone, was I married or in relationship. Yes, no and no.

On their way out of the door, I noticed they had these peculiar looks on their faces. The black guy, two ends of the mattress in hand asks, "So, can you cook?"

"I can cook enough." That's a codeword for no.

"Can you cook just a little bit?"

How weird is that? Is this damn 20 Questions?

I walked back to my half-empty room to find an empty condom box laying in the middle of my bed frame.

Hilarious!


Rolling With The Homies
I never wake up on time to get to work early or even on time. Sometimes I don't pick out my clothes for the next day or even tie my hair up. Last week, every day was one of those days. When I have curls, my closest friends know that I will throw 3-5 rollers randomly in my hair while I'm getting dressed to give limp strands a curl (I use rods, btw, not magnetic rollers). I got dressed, gobbled down my Cinnamon Toast Crunch, pulled the trash to the curb and jumped in my car for my 30 minute commute to work.

After I parked, I hopped on the disgusting, dingy elevator. There was a guy already on. I'd seen him before, but I could tell he was new to the area. Worked a few buildings down from mine. Tall, slim, professional looking. Always has a briefcase overflowing with stuff and a laptop bag. (Damn, I told you I'd seen him before!) Fairly young or young enough. As I stepped in the elevator, he greeted me. I replied with a smile, "I'm great. How are you this morning?"

I had my mp3 player in, jammin to Lady in My Life and noticed that he was staring at me. It wasn't that he was checking me out though. It was this look like, "What the hell?" Why though? I had a cute outfit and my toes had a fresh coat of polish. I ignored him. Finally, he says, "Sooooo, is that a new trend with the ladies?"

"Excuse me?"

"That...roller in the top of your head. Is that a something new?"

Well, I'll be damned! I forgot to the take the roller out!

Let me tell you about this roller. It's not your average roller. It's a neon orange Jherri Curl rod. In plain sight, BIG chilling in my head. How did I miss that in rear view.

I'm too cool to be embarrassed though.

"Oh wow. Somebody was in a hurry this morning! I immediately snatched it out and threw it in my work bag."That's a Monday for you. Thank you and have a good day!"

If I'd had Bewitched powers, I'd wiggle my nose to disappear into thin air.

Only me. Only me.

Hump Day Happenings

So....I'm sitting here about to jump out of my seat because I'm so ready to go. I'm ready to get the hump of Hump Day. Today has been a day of nothingness, filling food and -itis. Somebody remind me to fore go the stuffed crabcakes, salad and three butter rolls the next time we have a farewell luncheon. Almost two hours later, I'm still miserable. But I have been able to do a few things to feel like a productive U.S. citizen. I read atleast two stories on the life of Senator Ted Kennedy. Who knew he helped to implement COBRA and fled the death scene of a fatal car crash?? Rest in peace. Ever since his speech at the Democratic Convention, he's been special to me. He spoke with so much zeal and fire.

I drafted the Evite for my housewarming. It's an Evite, so you might be asking why I'm drafting. All I have to do is fill in the time, place, etc. and import email contacts, right? Yeah, but there is some anxiety about having a party considering I've never had one as an adult. Having my linesisters over and it turning into an apartment overflowing with RAP (random-ass people) does not count. This is a housewarming and I want it to be fun. With a decent male:female ratio.

Hmmmm.....That may be where the problem lies. To quote Darius Lovehall (Shame on you if you don't know who I'm referring to!), "Besides Felicia, I can't stand to be around any of 'em for more than an hour at a time." Replace "Felicia" with a guy's name though. I don't get down like that. So yeah, I could invite a few guys, but how many of them am I on good enough terms with to say, "Hey, why don't you come to my house and celebrate with me. That means that you now have my address to try to drop by unannounced." NONE. Homey don't play dat.

I'm not even going to get into why that may be. I know that if you experience patterns in life, it's not the pattern. It's you. I got that. As usual, I'm over thinking. I'm sure I'll have a fabulous time as long as my friends and family are there. And a bottle of Moscatto, of course.

Happy Hump Day!

Rest In Peace, Baby Girl

I remember it so clearly. I was in my dorm room unpacking. I had just come back to SU for the start of my junior year. My television was still sitting on the floor, rather than on my "Yaffa Block" stand. I had the TV on mute, but the radio was blasting since my roommate hadn't arrived yet. (I know I have that bad!). Around 9 p.m. or so, I looked at the screen and images of Aaliyah were flashing. I had it on CNN. Around that time, you couldn't find that many of us on, so I immediately turned the volume up. I could feel something pulling at my heart so I'd already begun praying that it wasn't anything catastrophic.

And it was. She was dead. A plane crash. Right after leaving the video shoot for "Rock the Boat." That hurt. Aaliyah? I was so excited to hear on 106 & Park (the Wonder Years) that she was shooting the video for that song. It was THE song on the album. She was so mature now. She'd gone from singing about a "Four Page Letter" to getting it on (who knew it was with Dame Dash though??) and loving it. Every time Aaliyah came out, it was something new and refreshing. She actually danced, instead of shaking her ass. She exuded sex appeal, but in a sweet, innocent way. I just read a Facebook status that said, "Rest in peace, Aaliyah. Beyonce' who?"

I had all off her stuff. Besides the old Jodeci material, Aaliyah was one of the first artists to showcase Timbaland's genius production (think "One In a Million"). She was the first skinny, tall girl I'd seen around my age who could sing and had a quirky sense of style.

When they released the video for "I Miss You", I sat on my parents' bed and cried. Like hard. I've never been the best with death. The same question floats around in my head when someone dies: What if......? I often wonder, if they plane had landed, where would women be in music? How much more could Aaliyah's career and life have flourished? Would Missy and Tim still be making beats together? I wonder.

Rest in peace, Aaliyah.

Because I Can't Stop Thinking

So, the other night, my male BFF told me I think too much. He probably tells me this atleast once every two weeks, maybe? I start going off on tangents, which I'm known to do about everything from the lack thereof (yeah we talk about that, too) to wanting a new job to whatever. I mentioned to a female friend and her response was, "We're women. We're supposed to think all of the time. Duh."

Precisely.

So here's what I've been thinking about lately. Keep in mind that it only makes sense in my head and sometimes, not even there. It's just random stuff.

My biological clock is ticking. I can't hear it, but I know it's ticking. Yesterday, a co-worker told me she wouldn't "wait too long" to have a baby if she were me. She was about 28 when she got pregnant, but it was accidental. My mother got pregnant at 28 and it was accidental. So what does that say to me? On one hand, I know I want to be young and vibrant enough to enjoy my children and hopefully, grandchildren. On the other hand, why suggest that I have a baby soon when your pregnancies weren't even planned? Get it?

A couple of months ago, I toiled over this same issue when my doctors found a gigantic fibroid in my uterus. What if I couldn't have children at all? Oh, the horror, right? I was depressed for days. Granted, everything turned out fine, but it sent some feelers out that I need to think about having children soon (as in the next 2-5 years).

This is the thing though. A: I have no "real" control over what will happen in that area. Yeah, I could run out to the sperm donor right now, but it's not THAT serious to me. B: I need and want a father for child to be my husband. C: I have no prospects for a husband, baby daddy, hell, even a boyfriend. Women are talking to me like I can just pull a man from the sky, have sex with him and voila'! Behold, a child! Uh-uh. I don't roll like that.

So that thought alone sends me right back to the depressed mode. Just when I think I'm crazy, someone else tells me that they think about the same thing. Well, the baby part, atleast. Tell me, do you think about this? I assume that some men think about having children, too--even though they can make babies until they're 70+. If not, what are some things you think about that you think are uncommon?

The Weekend At A Glance

Hey folks! This weekend has been nonstop. Right now, I feel like my head is going to explode. Today would be such a great day to take a half-day and jet. But no, I'll be thuggin it out. For once, I got out this weekend. I headed to a SWAC (that's Southwestern Athletic Conference) Alumni Picnic. There were plenty of people from Jackson State University, Alcorn State and a few from other schools. Only three of us were from Southern, but we still had a presence. We had a great time talking about how our school is THE BEST.

Moving on....My godson had a surprise birthday pool party. I've never seen so many little kids. They all played in the pool, and for a minute, I thought I'd atleast put my feet in the water, but I decided not to. I couldn't afford to get the hair wet. Typical, right?

Moving on...I got two free tickets to a Raheem DeVaughn show courtesy of my cousin. *Let me retract that statement. It was showcase for an artist, Phil Ade', hosted by Raheem. I knew this because I read event flyers to prevent bamboozlement (I think I just made that up). I have been to enough music events to know that the "host" isn't going to do much but...host. So it was hillarious to see the venue packed from the front to the back (a friend of mine looked at me like I was crazy when I said I didn't know Raheem DeVaughn had so many fans--my bad!). Couples were boo'd up and dressed to the nines. The little man (that's what I call him) came out in shades and a Polo shirt and eventually did 1.5 songs. The showcase artist did like six! Talk about some pissed people. LOL.

The best part of the night was my glass of Moscatto and the opening act, William Davenport. I could hardly see him, but his voice is amazing. I'd like to think of him as the male India Arie. That is if Eric Roberson or PJ Morton don't already have that title. Check him out @willdavenport.

Sunday was spent with family for my Granny's birthday. I finally hung some pictures on my bare walls at home and ironed some curtains. Ahh, the life of a homeowner. I did all of that while watching True Blood and Mad Men. Mad Men....um yeahhhh. The gay scene? Totally unexpected. I never really watched the show, but I could just sense that Sal was going to get ole boy. And the killing part was, as big as he is, he wasn't even the aggressor! May just have to stick with True Blood only on Sundays.

What did you do this weekend?

Sad State of Affairs

This is a sad state of affairs right here. I could talk about how even though Micheal Vick did his time, they are STILL going hard on him. I could talk about the fact that white folks are SUPER pissy about this healthcare deal and are cutting up sideways in these townhalls. Or I could even talk about people still coming out of the woodworks claiming to be Michael Jackson's children's bios. But no. Instead, I'm going to talk about me.

During a regular conversation with Moms, she asked if I was going "off" (meaning going out).

I said, "Ummmm...noooo. I am going to the beauty shop though!" I was a littel excited. Maybe too excited, but you haven't seen my head. (Nevermind that I had this bright idea to grow my eyebrows out so they could be thicker. Now I look like Snuffalufacus!) I added that that might be the "highlight" of my day.

"Umph, all you do is go home to your house now, huh?"

She didn't say it like it was a tragedy. There was no pity in her voice. She just asked a question.

I'd been asking myself the very same question. Hell, I think I even mentioned it in a previous blog. I, shamefully, had to answer. "Yeah, pretty much. How wack is that?"

"Nah, it's not. If that's what you wanna do."

"But I don't."

"Oh."

So, the sad state of affairs is when your own mama realizes that you lead a boring life. Sigh. Remember when I always had some hilarious story about going out? Maybe that time has passed. But dammit, I'm only 28. I deserve to ENJOY life. I work too hard (some of the time). Look for some changes in the near future.

Happy Thursday!

Ladies Night Around the World

Today is Thursday, known as Ladies Night around the world. I got that from a friend/linesister. Ladies Night also means that the following day is Friday. I have a busy weekend. Committed myself to too many things, as usual. I pushed the housewarming back. I need to relax. And I need TIME. I'm clearly obsessed over decorating this house. I was just thinking how I might have OCD. Seriously. Everything I do major, it becomes obsessive. I can only imagine what will happen when I get married and have a child. It's crazy.

Anyway. I'm blogging from work, as usual. Listening to Teedra. I'm talking about Teedra Moses, but I kinda feel like I know her like that, ya know. So we're on a first-name basis (Insert chuckle here). I follow her on Twitter @Teedramoses. Last night, I decided to ask her if she remembered being interviewed for Clutch. It was me who did the interview.

She tweeted back: @Alisha8151 Of course, I remember u, girl. Awww!!!

I believer her, too. When I interviewed her by phone, we talked forever. She's just a real cool chick. Classy.

So today, I'm sitting here, wishing I were sitting somewhere with a glass of Moscatto, vibing to Teedra because this song right here is it:



Or this one


Sigh. Happy Thursday!

Best Friends Forever?

Yesterday was the last Sunday our kids who were high school seniors would be at church. It's a group of them and they are all friends--girls and boys. Throughout the entire service, they were crying and hugging and woo woo woo. It was too emotional.

I thought about the fact that 10 years I was in the exact same place. Though I don't remember being that torn up about it, I did shed some tears. I remember sitting next to my best friend for Class Day (unofficial graduation program) crying as if someone was taking my right arm off. Picture: Celie and Nettie when Mister sent Nettie away. That's how we felt. And then we were at each other's houses the next day!

None of my close friends went to the same college as I did. We were leaving to start a new phase in our lives. And yes, things stayed the same. I still have the same friends I had 10 years ago. But things also change. People find their own identities and reinvent themselves. They become involved in other things that their old friends don't find interesting. And then some friends simply end their friendships for various reasons.

As I looked at those kids holding on to each other, I had a feeling that they were trying to hold on to the past, too. Yet, so ready for the future. I wonder how things will play for each of them. I pray for the best.

This Ish Has Got To Stop

It's official.

I suck at blogging. What happened? Three years ago it was on and poppin. Remember this or this? I was in my Hey Day (I guess). Now....eh. Do you much how much has gone down or the things I've seen that would have made for hilarious stories? I'm not even talking about events and issues in the media. I mean, just in my life.

Let's see....I've passed up commentary on McNair, Nas/Kelis' drama, Obama's ratings dropping like flies, the he-she on Diddy's Making His Band, MORE Michael Jackson (RIP! Don't stop till you get enough!), Twitter ish and even this fool shooting up the gym. I even had a venting session about Black In America 2. Couldn't even finish it. What is that about?

Ugh.

Sometimes, I just don't have anything to say. I wonder if anybody's out there anymore. Rather, I don't have the energy or time to say it. The house is consuming me. I'm supposed to have a housewarming in a few weeks and the decorating is going nowhere fast. So that's where I am.

And there it is! I'll do better.