I should have gone with the cheap, ugly Christmas stockings the first time. But after visiting 4 area Target stores searching unsuccessfully for the perfect family set of red velour, monogrammed, tassled stockings, I find myself back at the same dollar store in the hood where the whole fiasco began..holding the same 4 cheap, ugly stockings I debated over for an hour last week.
I should have known from last week's experience at that very same dollar store that perhaps I shouldn't go back. But the stockings were calling me. As irony would have it, the same gentleman who, just last week, educated me on the benefits of Durham County's mandated drug rehabilitation program, was there, once again, to greet me. Fortunately, he remembered me, or more specifically, my son, with a, "Hey, dey go dat cute lil baby again. How you doin' cute lil baby?" Clearly, the Dollar General on Miami Blvd. is a great place to meet folks and make friends!!
I should have gone straight for the stockings and made my way quickly out of Dodge, but nooooo. The dollar store gets new stock every Tuesday, so quite obviously I had to make my rounds to see what was fresh and exciting. At every turn, there was our local Tyrone Biggums, popping out from behind the large yellow M&M display or peeking at us from behind the tinsel adorned column next to the stack of filthy shopping baskets. Perhaps he thought he was playing peek-a-boo with the baby, still too innocent to know that the white on his lips did not come from a love of powdered donuts.
I try not to seem irritated, because a Brooklyn rearing taught me to be nicest to the most unsavory people...it minimizes the possibility of being stabbed, shot, mauled or maimed. Tyrone wasn't dangerous, I don't think, and now that I am home safely, it's kind of amusing, I suppose.
I don't think I'll stop going to the dollar store in the hood. It really is the best dollar store around town and so it's well worth the risk. I just know that the next time I go, I'll keep my eyes open, leave my children at home, and wear my bulletproof vest.
Oh...and...you'll be delighted AND relieved to know...I decorated the ugly $1 stockings with some $3 initial pins from Target, and voila...same effect as the $13 stockings from Target...and at a $40 savings!! I love a bargain...see...definitely worth a trip to the hood dollar store!
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Resolutions, schmezolutions...
1-1-10
Happy New Year!!!
For those who are keeping up…Batgirl has still not been able so come up with any clues, and we continue to live in fear. But we did make it through the night, so I guess that’s a start.
Anyway, it’’s almost 3:00 and I haven’t broken any of my resolutions yet. Yay me!!!!
OK…really though…they’re not resolutions, per se (I really hate it when people say that…“per se”…so why did I just do that?? Whatever…) They’re not resolutions…they are mini commitments to attempt to maybe do a little better for a short time…if I can…no pressure…
Sooooo…OK, look…there is SUCH huge potential for TMI here, so if you are faint of heart or weak of stomach, I suggest that you NOT read on!
“Commitment” number one is to be nicer to my skin. It ain’t as purdy as it used to be, and I did go a little nuts at the Bath and Body holiday sale, so……yeah! So, I am applying some shea butter oil to my cuticles (toes, not fingers…see the potential for TMI yet?? I warned you…), and Jordann asks me what I am doing. I say, “I’m putting oil on my toes so my feet can be pretty.”
And she says, “Mommy, your feet are already pretty.” (She is SO great for my ego.) Then after a little pause, she continues, “I really like your black nail polish.”
Uhm…problem is…I am not wearing any nail polish. (In my own defense though, she was referring to my ONE toenail which has a SLIGHT color imperfection, ONLY in a certain light, and ONLY on one side. So “sub-commitment“ 1a is to keep my toenails…all ten of ‘em…polished.)
“Commitment” number two…curb all unnecessary spending…which is why I had to go out yesterday and buy ALL of the unnecessary items I could think of. I like to think of them as post-Christmas/early-birthday presents (because justification of the addictive behavior is evidence of the addiction…that‘s my Carolina graduate education in action, Baby). I was evidently on Santa’s naughty list…and the birthday fairy probably won’t come thru either, so who’s gonna take care of me if I don’t? Huh?? That’s right! Nobody! So, here we are…two rings and a bracelet, a Wii Active, and a nifty new pair of Sketchers later…and I don’t feel guilty at all…cause that was yesterday…and that was still 2009.
“Commitment” number three is to get fit for my April/May trip to Barbados. A few nights ago, I bought a gorgeous turquoise bikini. It was smokin‘, I was HOT! Unfortunately, it was part of my “nocturnal cinema” (my Academy Award quality dream sequences). In reality, I am doing SERIOUS injustice even to the ‘more mature swimwear’ with the built in “shelf” and attached skirt. I used to have a waist….now…nothin’! I will have one, soon…and that which has gone SOUTH SHALL RISE AGAIN! Hold me accountable and I will keep you posted! I have 118 days to get it together (please refer to “commitment” number two under Wii Active…and keep me in your prayers).
Happy New Year!!!
For those who are keeping up…Batgirl has still not been able so come up with any clues, and we continue to live in fear. But we did make it through the night, so I guess that’s a start.
Anyway, it’’s almost 3:00 and I haven’t broken any of my resolutions yet. Yay me!!!!
OK…really though…they’re not resolutions, per se (I really hate it when people say that…“per se”…so why did I just do that?? Whatever…) They’re not resolutions…they are mini commitments to attempt to maybe do a little better for a short time…if I can…no pressure…
Sooooo…OK, look…there is SUCH huge potential for TMI here, so if you are faint of heart or weak of stomach, I suggest that you NOT read on!
“Commitment” number one is to be nicer to my skin. It ain’t as purdy as it used to be, and I did go a little nuts at the Bath and Body holiday sale, so…
And she says, “Mommy, your feet are already pretty.” (She is SO great for my ego.) Then after a little pause, she continues, “I really like your black nail polish.”
Uhm…problem is…I am not wearing any nail polish. (In my own defense though, she was referring to my ONE toenail which has a SLIGHT color imperfection, ONLY in a certain light, and ONLY on one side. So “sub-commitment“ 1a is to keep my toenails…all ten of ‘em…polished.)
“Commitment” number two…curb all unnecessary spending…which is why I had to go out yesterday and buy ALL of the unnecessary items I could think of. I like to think of them as post-Christmas/early-birthday presents (because justification of the addictive behavior is evidence of the addiction…that‘s my Carolina graduate education in action, Baby). I was evidently on Santa’s naughty list…and the birthday fairy probably won’t come thru either, so who’s gonna take care of me if I don’t? Huh?? That’s right! Nobody! So, here we are…two rings and a bracelet, a Wii Active, and a nifty new pair of Sketchers later…and I don’t feel guilty at all…cause that was yesterday…and that was still 2009.
“Commitment” number three is to get fit for my April/May trip to Barbados. A few nights ago, I bought a gorgeous turquoise bikini. It was smokin‘, I was HOT! Unfortunately, it was part of my “nocturnal cinema” (my Academy Award quality dream sequences). In reality, I am doing SERIOUS injustice even to the ‘more mature swimwear’ with the built in “shelf” and attached skirt. I used to have a waist….now…nothin’! I will have one, soon…and that which has gone SOUTH SHALL RISE AGAIN! Hold me accountable and I will keep you posted! I have 118 days to get it together (please refer to “commitment” number two under Wii Active…and keep me in your prayers).
My blog...
12-30-09
So…writing is cathartic and enjoyable for me. I planned to start blogging because, one…my life is a series of tragically funny events and who am I to keep them to myself, two…I thought that my friends, some of whom find me to be mildly amusing on occasion, would enjoy laughing at aforementioned tragically funny events, and three…I wanted to see if I could gather a following of readers. The plan was to be witty and entertaining, and perhaps I still can be…eventually. But today, I have discovered that my head can actually hold about 38 gallons of warm salty water...maybe more...I am still leaking a steady stream of tears.
I have never cried more than I have today. I thought deep, gutteral, take-your-breath-away-to-the -point-where -you-can’t-even-form-a-sentence sobs only happened on soap operas right after Priscilla found out that Drew ran off with Carla. I don’t remember being this sad…ever. Today…my lil Bailey died.
I am a trained counselor, you know. I have coached people (begrudgingly) through their own losses. It has been my contention that, OK, people die, plants die, pets die…it’s part of the circle of life…get over it! But I have never experienced a loss this close and this painful. I have felt pain for my friends who have experienced loss…and for now, I am talking about loss of a pet. Katie. Nairobi. Ginger. Banjo. Jackson. I thought I felt the pain their families felt at losing them, but I now know that you can’t truly know until you experience it. I understand that pain in a different way now.
I tried to remember the “standard” steps in the grieving process as presented in that Death and Dying seminar I took at Carolina. (What a stupid name for a seminar, by the way.) Denial? I think I skipped that step. I am pretty clear on the fact that he’s not coming back. Blame? Yes, I should have been there with Bailey. Did I give the babysitter the wrong dosage info for the phenobarb? I shouldn’t have left him to go on vacation while he wasn’t feeling well. Blame? Check….yup…got that one covered. What’s next, anger?? Hell, I can’t remember what I am clinically expected to feel next. I’ll have to refer to my textbook so that I don‘t miss an important emotional step.
It’s only been about 8 hours, and people have already said some tragically stupid things to me.
“Maybe you should go out and get a new puppy.” Yes, as if I just ran out of deodorant and need a new Lady Speed Stick. Let me run out and do that now…NOT!
.
“At least it wasn’t your mother or your daughter”. Oh yeah, good point.
“Don’t be sad.” You are so right. Let’s play Twister instead then.
“It was only a dog.” You are SO lucky that I am not holding a sharp object or a firearm right now.
My greatest comfort has been Jordann, who is wiser than her years.
“Mommy, why are you crying?”
“Because Bailey went to puppy heaven and we’re not gonna see him anymore.”
“That’s why you’re sad?”
I could only manage to shake my head…yes.
“Because now he flew up in the sky?”
Another nod.
“Are you gonna be sad forever.”
“No Baby. Just for a little while.”
“Until thirty o’clock?”
I managed to crack a smile.
“Well, what can I do to make you feel better?”
“Is there something you would like to say to Bailey?”
“Bailey, I will miss you. Have fun flying in the sky. Tell Mommy not to be sad any more. And when you’re finished being dead, you can come back. OK. Bye.”
She’s been so sweet today. She understands.
I’m still crying. Typing…and crying. Crying and typing...and flying. The flight attendant has passed by and given me the ‘you are such a freak’ stare about 12 times now. The little girl in 4D keeps looking at me and whispering to her mother. The gigantic Amazon woman (I am not kidding, she has to be about 6’4” 275 and her forearm is about the size of my thigh…and trust me, my thighs are NOT small) in 5F periodically looks over the top of her seat with an empathetic pout in between bouts of sneezing into her airline blanket and talking to herself. And the family in 7 A, B, C, D and E playing horizontal Uno is really starting to piss me off (but that’s beside the point).
Anyway, this…my first official blog ever…is dedicated to my lil Bailey. May he rest in puppy peace, and know that I loved him more than any person is really supposed to love a dog. Nite-nite pup. Mommy loves you still!!
So…writing is cathartic and enjoyable for me. I planned to start blogging because, one…my life is a series of tragically funny events and who am I to keep them to myself, two…I thought that my friends, some of whom find me to be mildly amusing on occasion, would enjoy laughing at aforementioned tragically funny events, and three…I wanted to see if I could gather a following of readers. The plan was to be witty and entertaining, and perhaps I still can be…eventually. But today, I have discovered that my head can actually hold about 38 gallons of warm salty water...maybe more...I am still leaking a steady stream of tears.
I have never cried more than I have today. I thought deep, gutteral, take-your-breath-away-to-the -point-where -you-can’t-even-form-a-sentence sobs only happened on soap operas right after Priscilla found out that Drew ran off with Carla. I don’t remember being this sad…ever. Today…my lil Bailey died.
I am a trained counselor, you know. I have coached people (begrudgingly) through their own losses. It has been my contention that, OK, people die, plants die, pets die…it’s part of the circle of life…get over it! But I have never experienced a loss this close and this painful. I have felt pain for my friends who have experienced loss…and for now, I am talking about loss of a pet. Katie. Nairobi. Ginger. Banjo. Jackson. I thought I felt the pain their families felt at losing them, but I now know that you can’t truly know until you experience it. I understand that pain in a different way now.
I tried to remember the “standard” steps in the grieving process as presented in that Death and Dying seminar I took at Carolina. (What a stupid name for a seminar, by the way.) Denial? I think I skipped that step. I am pretty clear on the fact that he’s not coming back. Blame? Yes, I should have been there with Bailey. Did I give the babysitter the wrong dosage info for the phenobarb? I shouldn’t have left him to go on vacation while he wasn’t feeling well. Blame? Check….yup…got that one covered. What’s next, anger?? Hell, I can’t remember what I am clinically expected to feel next. I’ll have to refer to my textbook so that I don‘t miss an important emotional step.
It’s only been about 8 hours, and people have already said some tragically stupid things to me.
“Maybe you should go out and get a new puppy.” Yes, as if I just ran out of deodorant and need a new Lady Speed Stick. Let me run out and do that now…NOT!
.
“At least it wasn’t your mother or your daughter”. Oh yeah, good point.
“Don’t be sad.” You are so right. Let’s play Twister instead then.
“It was only a dog.” You are SO lucky that I am not holding a sharp object or a firearm right now.
My greatest comfort has been Jordann, who is wiser than her years.
“Mommy, why are you crying?”
“Because Bailey went to puppy heaven and we’re not gonna see him anymore.”
“That’s why you’re sad?”
I could only manage to shake my head…yes.
“Because now he flew up in the sky?”
Another nod.
“Are you gonna be sad forever.”
“No Baby. Just for a little while.”
“Until thirty o’clock?”
I managed to crack a smile.
“Well, what can I do to make you feel better?”
“Is there something you would like to say to Bailey?”
“Bailey, I will miss you. Have fun flying in the sky. Tell Mommy not to be sad any more. And when you’re finished being dead, you can come back. OK. Bye.”
She’s been so sweet today. She understands.
I’m still crying. Typing…and crying. Crying and typing...and flying. The flight attendant has passed by and given me the ‘you are such a freak’ stare about 12 times now. The little girl in 4D keeps looking at me and whispering to her mother. The gigantic Amazon woman (I am not kidding, she has to be about 6’4” 275 and her forearm is about the size of my thigh…and trust me, my thighs are NOT small) in 5F periodically looks over the top of her seat with an empathetic pout in between bouts of sneezing into her airline blanket and talking to herself. And the family in 7 A, B, C, D and E playing horizontal Uno is really starting to piss me off (but that’s beside the point).
Anyway, this…my first official blog ever…is dedicated to my lil Bailey. May he rest in puppy peace, and know that I loved him more than any person is really supposed to love a dog. Nite-nite pup. Mommy loves you still!!
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