claire can't see me.

a mom who is cooler in words than in life.

Archive for word?

six thoughts: live from the cubicle.

These thoughts were inspired by the six things currently on my desk.

1. Coffee mug: Contingo mugs rock so hard. You can turn them upside, sideways, hap hazardly place them in your purse filled to the brim with cranberry juice and NEVER worry about a single spill. Its cool to have that much faith in something.

2. Badge: I was so proud to finally have a job (although hindsight is 20/20) that in my badge picture i look smug as hell. Like “Yeah, you better had given me this job!”

3. Car Keys: To my BRAND NEW (well new to me) CAR! Okay, I’m not even a hard pressed brand bougie type of girl, but I tell you what…I loveth my almost (barely) new Lexus. Ant took a flight to ATL to get it and drove it home throughout the night. I love him & I love that car almost equally (not really).

4, Ruler: Yesterday I had to input like 500 lines of data and this piece of shit ruler did nothing but hold me back. Its clear with a highlighting strip in the middle…and well…it doesnt work. This was a useless piece of information, I know. And now at #4 I’m thinking…maybe this whole 6 things on my desk is kinda lame. I thought I could turn it into something poetic. So far it looks like I’m running low on inspiration. But, in the spirit of finishing what I start….let’s move on to #5.

5. Purple Sparkly Stapler: We were in Marhsalls and Amel picked it out for me in. She’s such a girly girl. All dresses, pink, fou fou, and tiaras for that girl. Its completely not my style, but whenever I see it I think of her & I’m glad that she’s mine.

6.  iPhone: Just got a text for my girl saying that she’s coming to the APB Dirty 30 in New Orleans in November. APB stands for Aplha Phi Booty, a joke that started ages ago on the campus of Northeastern University. 12 years later & we’re still friends. Special shout out to: Dirty Jers, Patty Rice,  Prof Benton BA-MA-PhD!, Cat Eyes, Brooklyn’s Finest, Dr Ozi, and me–>Squeaktastic.

*7.  (Bonus) Paper clip: When times get rough on the job. Find yourself a paperclip and see how many things you can fashion from that simple piece of wire. Thus far I’m made hearts, S, Z, a square, I’m spelled my name, swirlly thing…… Just a tid bit to help you stay awaye & alert & keep that creative fire alive & well in the cube.

Ta-Ta!

Advertisements

dinner time tales

amiia: jordan was fighting again today, mommy.
me: what happened?
amiia: well he was yelling at parker. he was yelling “YOU LYIN ME”
me: what?
amiia: yeah, he kept screaming out “YOU LYIN ME”
me: hmm..
amiia: i didn’t jump in their business but i did whisper to myself.
me: what did you say?
amiia: *with her pointer finger extended upwards* fragment sentence.

yep, i’ll keep her!

lafayette is alive! & other randomness.

i lub true blood. but, i do fear that it’ll take a page out of the dark angel script  & completely jump the shark. did you see the bull person yesterday? com’on! i can handle vampires, shape shifters & evil church-goers, but a minotaur? seriously? my imagination can stretch but there’s gotta be some damn boundaries. the good news is that my homohomeboy is still alive! & for this simple reason, i’ll still be in attendance on july 12.

i want to go on vacation. unfortunately, just buying a house & going on vacation don’t fit into the same budget. who knew?

my coffee is lukewarm yet & still, i drink it. my laziness will be the death of me. ant says that if he wants to hide something he could just put it under the bed because he knows i will NEVER look under there.

twitter was reDUNKulous last night. the BET awards alone were hilarious (& not on purpose), but add the commentary from everyone i follow & i just couldn’t turn away from the mess on tv or the hate online. i will say though, that negative energy is easy toget caught up in. i went to bed last night complaining about the sound of anthony ironing clothes. &  this morning i was ready to talk about what the preschool teachers were wearing. i gotta shake that shit off. it’s a consuming feeling. but it was funny, so thank you.

but before i completely let go of the hate…here’s my short BET commentary:

– wtf wayne & drake & other no name dudes on stage? why did ya’ll have baby video “actresses” on stage with you while you sang about trying to infect the whole world of girls? that went completely over my head. i’m a big undercover wayne fan, but that made me question my sanity & box up my hoodratted fantasies forever.

– wyclef, i shall be researching if you really came from a hut in haiti.

– beyonce’, beyonce’, braid of chucky-yonce. that was over-indulgent & it appears to me that you’re riding the line between how good you are & how good you think you are a tad bit too closely. i say that with love. (and a little hate on it too.)

– johnny gill sounds like cookie monster.

– tevin campbell still has milk teeth. that’s amazing to me.

– jamie foxx was probably the best person to lead this circus.

– the awards show was no surprise. BET is conflicted just as the black community is conflicted. you have ONE channel trying to represent all things black; that’s black youth, black power, black tradition, black religion, black politics, & black comedy. There’s no way to try & contain all of that into one space without conflicts of interest. it’s like trying to mash up comedy central, mtv, cnn, & christian broadcasting network on ONE channel. it doesn’t work. so don’t blame BET for trying to do it all….blame network execs for making it impossible to include good diverse programs on ALL other channels.

/soapbox

there, i feel better. now let me renew my spirit & say thank you universe that i have my privacy. that i have the ability to make a fool of myself in the comfort of my own home without the world to watch.

now i’ve gotta go clean.

i hate new people.

that looks horrible when reading.

let’s try that one again.

i hate meeting new people. sound better? okay…moving forward.

i am an awkward person. i stumble over my wit. i’m hella funny in my head. even funnier in my pjs at home with ant. but in public? i’m all “smile & wave boys, cute & cuddly”…so, instead of working on this deer in headlights reaction…i simply avoid meeting new people or just internally freak out when forced into a conversation with a stranger. there wouldn’t be a problem, generally speaking, but i think this standoffish vibe i reek makes me seem…well…standoffish. i feel like i come off as either snobby, stank, angry, uninterested or a offensive mixture of all of the above.

so…here’s my plan.i’m going old OLD school. i’m gonna make up calling cards like in the victorian days. & instead of forcing myself into making small talk, i’ll point them here. they can check out my bad habits, my horrible grammar, my funny side, my “parenting style”, my opinions & all my public apologies for themselves….& then decide for themselves if they’d like to twitter me & start a conversation based on what they’ve discovered. perhaps by then i’ll be ready for face to face dialogue like a real grown up.  

this sounds so extra…i know. but i’ve got to find another way than what i’m doing now. because as of right now…this is me:

stranger: how’s it going.
me: its going pretty good, thanks for asking. how are you?
stranger: ehh, you know things are going as good as i can get right now. you know with the economy & the weather. there’s just one storm after the other, am i right?
me: yep.
stranger: i guess i could complain more, but i’d rather just sit & smile, you know?
me: hmm.
stranger: so, umm, where are you fr…
this is me ——>walking off to avoid further attempts at talking.

i guess it would be one thing if i wanted isolation. but i’m a people person deep down inside this mess of issues & shame & terrible communication skills. if you’ve seen this of me & i’ve given you that “please don’t talk to me face”…i’m sorry. i do want to talk. i do want to join in on the random jokes. i do want to be apart. but just like in double dutch, i just never know when to jump in & even worse…i don’t know how to double dutch at all to start with. dumb analogy.

anyway….here’s an example of my calling cards.

be my friend, yo.

be my friend, yo. (click to enlarge)

 

now all i have to do is get up the nerve to give out a card.

sheeeeeit, if it ain’t one thing it’s another.

i need twabble…

…not twitter.

i am way too wordy for tweets. i lack the cleverness that it takes to capture attention in 5 sentences. give me a paragraph to explain my day, situation, feeling, &/or moment. i tend to have to work through my redundancy. i have to do this  in an effort to reach a conclusion that i generally don’t have before starting my first sentence. give me space to fumble over thoughts, as incoherent as them seem. i need useless details. i need to restate the same notion in three different ways.

here’s my last few tweets:

thank you universe that my little people managed to clean their rooms semi-on their own. about 17 hours ago from web.

thank you universe for this good start. slow rise, breakfast ready w/o complaining, green day playing, coffee hot. for this i am thkful. 8:52 AM Jun 11th from TwitterFon 

thank you universe that i am here in this skin, in these thoughts, in this family, in this life.4:15 PM Jun 10th from TwitterFon

 thank you universe because today i made it all the way to my destination before finding my flat tire.4:14 PM Jun 10th from TwitterFon

i’ve been in a grateful mood. but anyone outside of me….do you really want to hear about how awesome your friend’s life is feeling? seriously. i would probably unfollow me. haha. BUT if given the space needed to capture all of my whirlwind thoughts…i would probably make it from grateful to hateful because that’s just how i do.

speaking of twitter, i don’t want to follow my favorite celebs. it completely ruins all industry-made dreams in my head. i like to think of john mayer as a sensitive guy, shy & humble.  too late to turn back now. a room for squares is just a cd now. not an ode to me. just a cd by some dude who’s wears his intelligence like kayne wears his clothes. unappealing.

now i’m following my favorite writers (not favorite favorite, but folks who authored some books i have) & marvel at how uninspired their daily speak is…they’re just like me! woohoo.

well folks, that’s my time.  

follow me on twitter, if you dare.

do i have a girlfriend…

…well technically, no.

I like to think that John Legend is gay. And then I waste my life trying to decode all of his hidden messages to his lover(s). His lyrics play duble dutch quite nicely. It could be for her but it can equally be for him. Could be for both. Hmm..

Mind you, I don’t care WHO he sleeps with. I don’ even claim that he is anything than he claims to be. I just happen to enjoy finding suspect sounding lyrics and interpreting them for friends and family.

Nothing to see here…I’m just saying, try it.

Do you get paid, though?

I started interning this summer. Decided to forgo trying to rush graduate this fall in exchange for working as free labor in my field.  (Reminder: never use the words “free labor” & field” when describing internship again.) The position isn’t interesting enough to dedicate a blog entry to…but I wanted to tell you this story.

So, Nina is besides herself that her mommy has a job. She’s telling people at school that I’m a doctor. I’m working at the hospital, so its kind of the same…I guess. We’re at the dinner table having a conversation about my new gig.

Nina: Do you like being a doctor now Mommy?
Me: I’m not a doctor.
Nine: Oh. (sad face) But don’t you work at the hospital?
Me: Yep, as a buyer.
Nina: Oh. That’s cool. What do you do?
Me: Buy stuff for the hospital.
Nina: Well, how much does that pay?
Me: Nothing.
Nina: Well, I don’t wanna be THAT when I grow up.

Scene.

And, I’m figuring out that I don’t wanna grow up to be that either. Even if they paid me. Though, I gotta admit, I love going to work in office clothes. The whole ritual appeals to me. Getting up, rushing in the morning, “needing to get my coffee”, and speeding out the door briefcase in hand. BUT that’s the only part of the routine I like. Lawd knows, I want to like it. Like settling for the dude that’s nice & sorta cute. The problem is that I base my whole existence on “what if”…

I have a girlfriend that said that your job is your job, it doesn’t need to be your purpose in life. An occupation is the means at which you can afford to go after your purpose/passion.

Which sounds okay. But, no matter how much logic you attach to it, still smells/sounds/tastes like settling to me.

I don’t feel like finishing this thought or else I’ll end up erasing this whole blog.

In other glorious & broke news: we’re home owners again. Which explains my prolonged departure from you. My new office is still filled with boxes of trash & memories but they are all located behind me…out of sight out of mind. But yeah…I’m full blown suburban now.

OH YEAH! Mail man is here!* Benjamin Button is in the mail!! WooHooo.

* My window faces the street.

Well, dear invisible friends, this is what settling looks like. :-p

Get ready to get old.