Saturday, December 31, 2005

A Ladylee Christmas

I didn't post about my Christmas, so here goes :)

I didn’t take much time off from work this year. I took about 30 hours of leave. (Most employees took 40 to 80 hours off.) But I prefer to work during the Holiday season because it’s nice and quiet and I can get a lot more work done when not surrounded by a lot of negative attitudes.

That probably won’t be the case next year, though. I need to stop putting this job first..

…But that’s another post. I won’t bore you with all that.

But Christmas was nice this year.

The Friday before Christmas, my brother, sister and I hopped in the car and drove out to Cobb county to hang out with Auntie and Uncle Sean… No special Christmas dinner there.. We had chili slaw dogs, fries, chips, sodas, and Key Lime Pie. We also looked at a movie… That was a lot of fun!

Christmas day was nice...

It was the first time a large portion of the family have gotten together in a long time. We haven’t gathered like that since my Grandfather died 4 years ago. It was nice to see my uncles and cousins!

And you would be proud of me… I even got along with my mother.

Dinner was good, most of all because it wasn’t traditional. Instead of Turkey and all the fixings, we had barbeque ribs and fried chicken (with all the fixings!)

Oh, and we also had some chitlins!!!! (Otherwise known as Chitterlings for you sophisticated types.)

As you can see, they disappeared fast. I was the last to get some. I haven’t had chitlins in 4 or 5 years (they messed me up BAD the last time I had them.) But this year, I decided to take my chances. They were oh so good.

My mother’s skittish frisky dog was there, all decked out in her pink rhinestone collar.

Those glowing eyes make her look like some evil Alien spawn from hell. She was quite annoying.

I got a lot of nice gifts. I gave some pretty good gifts. I gave my sister, the Diva of the world, a huge bag of towels, wash clothes, and nice bath products. I also gave out a few gift cards. I gave my mother and aunt bottled water from around the world. I give big batches of homemade cookies to the men in the family.

I would definitely like to tell you about my favorite gift that I received, and the best gift I gave…

My favorite gift…

My brother and I were doing a little running around a couple of days before Christmas. I decided to go into the Linen N’ Things in Fayetteville. (I am CONSTANTLY looking for window treatments or room-darkening blinds for my oversized windows). I didn’t see anything I wanted, but we continued to look around.

Now, I love expensive tripled scented candles. The current brand of high end candles is made by a company called Yankee Candle. I don’t like Yankee Candle candles (they’re not strong enough), but I do like their brand of car air fresheners (you know, the ones that hang from your rear view window).

I am especially fond of “Clean Cotton” scent, and I usually buy those car scents by the handful. I love that scent of clothes fresh out of the dryer!

Well, Yankee Candle has come out with the “Clean Cotton” dishwasher liquid, gentle laundry wash, counter-top cleaner, and fabric refresher.

“Look Lee,” my brother said, pointing at the items. “There’s that Clean Cotton stuff you like.”
My eyes got big, and my heart started beating faster. “Ooh, yeah! I’ma get that! How much they cost?”
We looked around, before we saw the price. “$8.99 a piece.”
I got loud like my name was Quita…
“What the hell? $8.99 for some wanna-be Dawn, Woolite, Windex, and Febreeze? Are ya’ll crazy?”
A few customers looked at me like I was half-crazy. A Linens N’ Things worker casually walked away.
“But you like it, Lee!” my brother countered.
“Bump that. I don’t like it that much!! Let’s bounce, man!”

Fast forward to Christmas morning. My brother gives me a big box.
“I want you to open my gift first, Lee,” he said with a smile.
I opened the box, and lo and behold…
There were all those “Clean Cotton” products that I’d been wailing about…

I was thoroughly shocked and surprised.
“Boy, I’m gonna make this last!”
“You might as well use it, Lee, because that’s what you’ll be getting from now on!”
Oh well, I will use it, but only sparingly.

Thanks, D! :)

The best gift I gave…

My sweet, quiet little grandma is old school. She had a 13” TV that blitzed out on her, and she decided to take it to a repairman. She mentioned this at Thanksgiving, and we were all sitting there looking at her like she was crazy, but we were like... whatever.

But on Christmas, I walked into her house and noticed it was pretty quiet, save for the chit-chat of my relatives. Later on, after we’d eaten and opened gifts, I watched my Mother and sister engage in an intense game of Scrabble.

Grandma walked up…

So Grandmama, when are you getting’ the TV out the shop?” I asked.
“I went to pick it up the other day, and the man say it ain’t ready?”
I squinted at her. “How long has that TV been in the shop?”
“Oh, for ‘bout a year.”

I almost fell off the sofa. A 13” TV. In the shop. For a year.

“Grandmama, do you want a new TV?” I asked.
“I said do you want a new TV?”
“Yeah, I do, but the man say it’s gonna be ready soon.”
"I’ll pick you up tomorrow, and we’ll go get you a new TV."
"Oh well, okay," she muttered, while wringing her hands.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
“I don’t have the money for a new TV, Sugar..”

To make a long story short, it took me a few minutes to convince her to get a new TV.

We didn’t go the next day to get a TV (It’s was a bit rainy for a couple of days after Christmas).
But today (Friday), my brother and I went to HhGreg and bought her a nice 20” Toshiba with the built in VCR. (On Christmas, we tried to talk to her about DVDs, but this confused her. We thought it best to just get her a TV-VCR combo).

We took the TV over to her house and set it up. My brother rigged a 1972 antenna he found on an old TV in the bedroom to the new TV and programmed the channels.

All Grandmama could say was…
“Look ah here, look ah here!” over and over again.

It was nice to see a smile on my Grandma’s face! I wish I could have bought her a nice 60” flat screen!

So that’s the gist of my Christmas.

I hope your holidays have been all you wanted them to be!

Thursday, December 29, 2005

LadyLee's 3 the Hard Way

I've been tagged by Superstar Dr. Nic.... So I guess that I gotta do my 3's now!
(note: Nic, you BETTER be sitting down working on that dissertation proposal... Don't let me have to pimp slap you through the internet again!!!)

3 screen names I have:

1. Ladylee
2. Original "OG"
3. Oldgirl

3 Physical things I like about myself:

1. My hands
2. My feet
3. My ears

3 Physical things I don't like about myself

1. My rear (to much booty in the pants, man!)
2. My height (I'm 5'7'', wish I was a couple of inches shorter)
3. My hair (please grow... please!)

3 parts of my heritage

1. Black
2. Indian (I guess, because Grandma looks like she got a little indian in her)
3. White (Now ya'll know African American's don't look much like Africans... something was
going on somewhere!)

3 of my everyday essentials

1. My cell phone
2. My laptop
3. television

3 of my favorite musicians (for me, this means folks who played instruments and write their own music and lyrics!)

1. Curtis Mayfield
2. Alicia Keyes
3. Brian McKnight

3 of my favorite songs (I am an oldies fanatic... Today's music does not interest me much, so here are 3 of the songs that I've been playing in heavy rotation every day this week!)

1. Been Such a Long Time by New Birth
2. Love Don't Live Here Anymore by Rolls Royce
3. Fred is Dead by Curtis Mayfield

3 of my hobbies right now

1. Reading (I usually read a book a week, but right now, it's a book every 2 weeks)
2. Writing (working on that 1st of many, many novels)
3. Crochet

3 things I want in a relationship

1. Trust
2. love
3. financial stability - I have a right to want this, since I myself am financially stable.

3 things I want to do really badly now (with someone special):

1. Relax
2. get married
3. Twerk somethin' (LOL)

3 Careers I've considered doing:

1. Psychologist (that'll be hard, since I have the attention span of a flea... I'm not the best listener)
2. Doctor (Shoot, I'm already a Dr., I mean Medical Doctor)
3. Lawyer

3 places I would like to go on vaction to:

1. Alaska
2. Hawaii
3. Australia

3 kids Names I like:

1. Nicole
2. Benjamin
2. Samuel

3 Ways I'm a stereotypical girl (Even though I am the ultimate tomboy??)

1. I like makeup (even though I rarely wear it, but I like it when I do wear it)
2. I love expensive scented handmade candles.
3. I love pedicures and manicures (but you should see the way the nail technician looks at me when I ask for clear nail polish only!)

Three things that make a person

1. Honesty
2. Compassion
3. Loyalty

Three things that can destroy a person

1. Greed
2. Dishonesty
3. Hateful personality

3 people I would like to see take this quiz (this is optional, now!)

1. Serenity 23
2. DJ Diva
3. Disco Diva (Robyn)

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

The Whole Picture...

*Dedicated to my best friend for the last 25 years, since the age of 10, Lady Tee...

Serenity 23 has been in a b-girl gangsta stance…she’s had me on the ground, with my grill in the grass and dirt, her high heel pressed deep into my neck, wanting me to get to writing something substantial… DJ Diva has been riding shotgun, willingly supplying the transformer scratch for S23’s painkiller induced threats!!!

You don’t like my happy fluff, S23?

Don’t like my nice pictures of food, hunh?

I like skipping along like a Smurf, you know…

The thing is, I have personal posts…

…some I choose to post, MANY I choose not to…

But I do sneak over to post a lil’ sumthin’, sumthin’ on the Sundown Gospel of Serenity 23, along with a few others.

I like to post personal thoughts on things they write….Oh how I wish I had their foresight when I was their age... I would be sooo much further along... Be where I would hope to have been at this time of my life...

Now they wanna know what makes Ladylee tick… What's really on Ladylee's ticking mind?

Here’s a little excerpt from a personal entry that I’ve edited waaaaay down to one post…
Something strongly related to what I’ve been going through spiritually on a personal basis in mid-December…

I came across Psalms 73 a few years ago….

No… no preacher used it as his scripture of reference for a particular sermon or anything. As a matter of fact, I’ve never heard anyone speak on it before, anywhere at anytime. I just happen to be reading my Bible one day, and there it was.

I happened to be going through some craziness at the time I first read this, where I was dealing with a bit of envy, and didn’t really know it, or know why, for that matter. I put this particular chapter on a diskette, and when I’m feeling a little, I don’t know, envious (with me these past few years, it’s more of an indirect type of envy), I pull it up and read it and meditate on it for awhile. I find it is always a good idea, if I may borrow a verse from a couple of popular rap songs, to “check myself before I wreck myself.”

Back in June, I sent this passage to a dear friend of mine in New Orleans... She'd been wailing on the phone to me about things going on at my old job, and trying to figure out the "Why?" of it all... More specifically why people got over the way they did...

Didn't really have an answer for her, for I too, do my fair share of wailing about such things...

But I'm always pointed back in the direction of this passage...

Sorry, but this isn’t the King James version. I can’t get with the “thee’s” and “thou’s” too tough. However, I still read from the King James version, along with my Amplified, Living, and Message Bibles. This chapter of Psalms happens to be from the Message Bible, a version which is translated primarily from the Greek, and written in today’s vernacular. This particular version socks me between the eyes, and that’s what I like about it. Heck, sometimes that's just what I need...

I’m particularly affected, these days, by the parts that I have italicized.

Psalms 73 (Message Version)…

No doubt about it! God is good—good to good people, good to the good-hearted.
But I nearly missed it, missed seeing His goodness.
I was looking the other way, looking up to people at the top, envying the wicked who have it made, who have nothing to worry about, not a care in the whole wide world.

Pretentious with arrogance, they wear the latest fashions of violence,
Pampered and overfed, decked out in silk bows of silliness.
They jeer, using words to kill; they bully their way with words.
They’re full of hot air, loudmouths disturbing the peace.
People actually listen to them—Can you believe it?
Like thirsty puppies, they lap up their words.

What’s going on here? Is God out to lunch?
Nobody’s tending the store.
The wicked get by with everything; they have it made, piling up riches.
I’ve been stupid to play by the rules; what has it gotten me?
A long run of bad luck, that’s what—a slap in the face every time I walk out the door.

If I’d given in and talked like this, I would have betrayed your dear children.
Still, when I tried to figure it out, all I got was a splitting headache…
Until I entered the sanctuary of God.
Then I saw the whole picture.
The slippery road you’ve put them on, with a final crash in a ditch of delusions.
In the blink of an eye, disaster!
A blind curve in the dark, and—nightmare!

When I was beleaguered and bitter, totally consumed with envy,
I was totally ignorant, a dumb ox in your presence.
I’m still in your presence, but you’ve taken my hand.
You wisely and tenderly lead me, and then bless me.
You’re all I want in heaven!
You’re all I want to earth!
When my skin sags and my bones get brittle,
God is rock-firm and faithful.
Look! Those who left you are falling apart!
Deserter, they’ll never be heard from again.
But I’m in the very presence of God—oh, how refreshing it is!
I’ve made Lord God my home.
God , I’m telling the world what you do!

This is just a piece of scripture that I find… interesting and fully loaded. I see a little something different every time I read it, depending on what's irking me at the time. There have been a few times that I’ve wondered out loud if God was “out to lunch”. But more interestingly, I have found that I have missed out on seeing God’s goodness at times, because I focus on what people around me are doing and getting away with instead of concentrating on doing what's right and asking for God's help…

And that’s not a good. It’s probably one of my worst habits.

The big picture is what’s important in the total scheme of things. The whole picture. All I know, even though it seems that taking the easy road is what looks to be best and the most fun, in the long run…

…it isn’t.

What’s heavy on my mind as we leave 2005 and enter 2006?

At the end of my career, life etc… do I want to be able to say, “Yeah (smirk) I got over, I used people, I stepped on people to get where I needed to be. I wasn’t smart enough, but hell, I found a way to get over and I did it”.

…Or do I want to be able to say…. “I prayed. I trusted you, God. I depended on you. I was a person of character, and did what was right in your sight. And you saw me through…”


When I look at the whole picture, things look easy, and the answers to my questions and prayers are quite simple…

It’s just the day-to-day grind that is oh so hard to take at times…

I’m a work in progress, and with your help Lord, I’ll get to where I’m heading, where you're trying to get me to focus on going...

...soon enough.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Have a cookie...

Hey Ladybug,

I can't mail those cookies, but you're free to pretend :)

This is a picture from yesterday... We only have about 10-20 cookies left :(

So have a cookie... chocolate chip pecan on the right, oatmeal raisin walnut on the left!

... ENJOY :)

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Merry Christmas...

Excuse my manners.... They're not all that great this month...

I forgot to wish you all Season's Greetings!

So I thought I'd take a little break from wrapping gifts, and post something "Christmasy"! (Yeah, I am wrapping gifts on Christmas morning, and I did 95% of my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. I've also been baking cookies for the last 2 hours. Cut me a little slack, I don't have to be at Grandma's house 'til 3:00 this afternoon!)

But from me, Oldgirl Ladylee, to you...

Merry Christmas!

Happy Hannukah!

Happy Kwanzaa!

And for those of you who get caught up in semantics?

Happy Holidays!

I'm reminded of that wonderful tune "12 days of Christmas". No, not the traditional song you're thinking of. Sorry, but I have no visions of turtle doves, french hens, and partridges in a pear tree. I'm talking about that ghetto rap Miami bass version of the song by the rap group 95 South or 69 Boyz. (I can't tell the groups apart). It's been playing in heavy rotation on the urban stations in the ATL. I am especially fond ot the rapping homegirl's Christmas request...

I want...

1200 dollars

11 pairs of shoes

10 fanger nails

9 packs of weave

8 male strippers

7 bus passes

6 diamond rings

5 months free rent!!!!!

4 bangols

3 pocket books

2 earrings

and a MAN with a lot of money!

Humph! That's one heck of a wish list... I especially like the idea of 5 months free rent, 1200 dollars, and the man with a whole lot of money... That'll set me straight, at least until June, that's for sure.

And I know the shoe queen blogger
Serenity23 can get with those 11 pair of shoes. (By the way, S23, I don't wear heels...I'd appreciate you making a pair of Nikes the shoe of the week just one time! Thanks in advance! LOL! LOL!)

That list is better than some doggone turtle doves, that's for sure...

So here's to hoping your Christmas is the best yet!

The Original Oldgirl, Ladylee :)

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Only in the hood...

I slowed down long enough to catch a picture of something very "hoodish"...

A picture of a mailbox at the end of my street.

For the past six weeks, I've had to look at this craziness...

Oh, well...

Only in the hood...

Damn, where's a good neighborhood association when you need one?

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Ladylee's Supreme Stir-fry

Ooooohh!! Aaaahhh!!!

That look good, don't it?

Wish you could get some of that, don't cha??

Nope. You can't have any... Just put your nose close to screen, close your eyes and take a deep breath!

Get a little closer now...

*Ladylee inhaling deeply*


I woke up Tuesday morning, half crying like a baby because I had to go to work. I opened the French doors of my refrigerator and gasped...

I'd forgotten to put the shrimp that I bought on Saturday in the freezer.

I needed to cook them right away. Nothing in the world like stankin' spoiled expensive shrimp. (All the Arm-and-Hammer baking soda in the world can't soak up that funk). So early that morning, I made my favorite stir-fry. I've been asked to post a couple of my recipes, so this is the first...


10 jumbo shrimp (get them big ones, not them cheap ones!)
2 cups of broccoli florets
1 cup of sprouts
1/2 cup of sliced onions
1/2 cup each of sliced red and green bell peppers
1 cup of sliced zuchinni
1 cup of Romaine lettuce
1 cup of mushrooms
1 tspn of some kind of hot curry paste
4 tbspns of olive oil (don't use that fake Crisco stuff)
1/2 cup of water.

Heat oil in a wok (or use that cheap broke-down skillet you got from Wal-mart 10 years ago. LOL!). Add the curry paste. Add shrimp, and cook 'til done. Remove shrimp from wok, and add peppers, mushrooms, zuchinni, and onions. Cook 'til almost done. Add the water and broccoli. Cook 'til broccoli is bright green. Add lettuce and sprouts. Cook for 2 minutes more, then you're done. Total time (prep and cook): approximately 30 minutes.

You might ask: "Ladylee, what does 'cook 'til done' mean?"

You know..."Cook 'til done" means "cook 'til done". You know when your food is done!! Heck, if you can't figure it out, cook it 'til it looks like the picture!

Also, don't bootleg this recipe! No frozen vegetables. Buy all your ingredients FRESH. Chop and slice them yourself! It'll only take five minutes to chop your veggies. Dang!

Also, make sure to get that red curry paste, or some variation of it. I like the "Thai" brand of Curry paste or chili paste.

I'm not sure what the jar in the middle is, because I can't read Japenese. (Heck, that might be Korean, Chinese, or Vietamese writing, for all I know). But it was recomended by the cashier of my favorite Oriental market, and she knows that I don't want any products containing domesticated household animals, if you know what I mean. (Imagine me in the store yelling "Yo, what does this jar say? What's in here?). I can't read the writing, but all I know it's hot as hell and it is good!

You can substitute any other meat for the shrimp. I've tried it with chicken, sliced pork, beef, and salmon...

Try it with some chittlins and let me know how it is, why don't you?

Monday, December 19, 2005

A New Week...

I had a terrible time at work last week :( ...

Management kicked me all up in my grill (I think they were trying to throat chop me, but decided to do one of those Karate Kid eagle kicks instead...)

*Ladylee frantically searching around on the ground for her kicked out teeth*

By the way, does anyone have Paul Wall's phone number, because I need to get fitted for a new iced out grill!


LadyLee the Scapegoat... coming soon to a movie theatre near you!

But that's alright, because for one, I got paid last Friday!

Ya'll know I'm just up in here for my paycheck.

Especially after last week's bullshit...

Really though.



He arrived from Baltimore at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. I met up with him at 11:00 a.m. Sunday morning. (He'd been bugging me to death. "The first thing I want to do when I get back is go to Church. It's been so long since I've been spiritually fed. Kay [our sister] is picking me up at the airport. You better meet us at Church, Shawty!)

I hugged him so tight. Didn't want to let him go...

"Awww..," my sister crooned. "Da'kari gets to see his other mother. You actually put a smile on her face!"

I guess she realized that I'd been angrily stomping around the house for a couple of days last week...

Sorry Sis...

But anyway... I'm feeling much better now... My road dog is home. Even if it is for only 2 weeks, he is home!

I wasn't going to take any real time off during the holidays, because there is a lot of stuff I planned to do at work while things were a little slow.

But hey, I got to get my priorities straight. I think the Scapegoat needs to take a few days off here and there. I must stop putting this job first. I need to get more involved in things I'm passionate about.

But one thing I know for sure, though...

Me and the lil' boy are gonna have a good time!

And right now... that's all that matters!!!!!

Friday, December 16, 2005

December 16, 2003... Completion of a Failure.

(Note: This is an excerpt from the longest post ever (15 pages) which I choose not to post. The original post could be broken down into 10 posts, but I think I'll just leave you with a little excerpt.

Yo Serenity23, maybe a secret blog is coming your way at the beginning of the year... who knows, whoadie?)

Two years ago today, on December 16, 2003, I was divorced.

...So one night, in October of 2003 we were talking on the phone, and I asked Oldboy what he wanted to do.

“Get a divorce,” he said.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

I remember calling my best friend Lady Tee on the phone that night at one o’clock in the morning, crying on the phone about the whole situation. She told me to go pray, which I did.

I eventually realized that I wasn’t upset about the divorce. My marriage was one of the brokest (is that a word?), loneliest, and depressing times of my life, and I needed to get out of it and go on with my life. The quality of my life had increased many orders of magnitude while Old boy and I were separated.

I was terribly and utterly upset about the failure of it all.


December 16, 2003, was the day of the divorce. I remember sitting at a long table in front of the female judge at the Fulton County courthouse in Atlanta, Georgia.

Old Boy was sitting there dressed to the nines in a cream suit with a matching cream hat, his hair long and wavy. I’d been staring at him in awe. A wanna be pimp, I thought quietly to myself.

The judge asked Old Boy, “Are you sure that there is no chance of the two of you getting back together?”

He looked at me, speechless.

“No!” I answered for him.

The judge looked at me over her square, black-rimmed glasses. “I’m not asking you. I’m asking him.”

“No,” he mumbled after a few seconds of both the judge and myself staring at him. He looked down at the table.

At that time, I felt terrible. I could see the pain on his face. I should have done more, tried to go for counseling, something.

But in all my selfishness, I didn’t.

And at that moment, I realized it was truly over.

We’d been at the courthouse for a couple of hours. I was a little fidgety after sitting still for so long. We walked out of the courthouse together and I started towards the train station.

“Ladylee, I’ll give you a ride home!”
“That’s alright. My car is parked at the College Park train station. I’ll just catch the train.”
“Well at least let me give you a ride up the street to the Five Points train station.”

I could see that he was not going to leave me alone. Five Points was only three or four blocks from the courthouse. I didn’t see a problem with that.

“Alright, then.”

He stopped on Peachtree street in front of the Peachtree station. He looked over at me as I fumbled with the door. I looked back at him, not saying anything. Those were the longest couple of seconds of my life.

“Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye Oldboy.”

I got out of the car. I glanced back over my shoulder and he was still sitting there watching me walk into the station. I walked through the turnstile, knowing that I would never ever see him again.

It has been two years. He’s tried to contact me recently, leaving extremely vague messages on my cell phone. I never answer. I’m not into the friendship thing, the friends with benefits thing, and we don’t have kids together. There’s no use in him trying to contact me.

A couple of my co-workers are curious.

“Aren’t you curious about what he’s doing?”
“He might have your half of the lotto money!”
“Well, he better leave a message about that!” I replied.

I don’t travel down the same road twice.

I’d stop picking up my phone line at work when an outside call was coming in. A couple of coworkers were curious and even picked up my phone line a couple of times. (It was never him).

I don’t know what he wants. Not willing to find out. I hope wherever he is…

…He is happy and well.

Monday, December 12, 2005

On your Marks... Get Set... B O L O !!!!!!!

A couple of weeks ago, some coworkers and I played Jacks...

I screamed about not liking the cheap plastic jacks, but wanting the metal jacks (you know, the ones that could cause a choking hazard) that I use to play with back in the '70's and 80's.

Then I said something profound...

"Dang, I wish I could get hold of a Bolo Bat!!!!

Oh yes... You know what I'm talking about.

Down south, here in the ATL, they called it a "Bolo Bat". I'm hearing up north, they called it a "Bat and Ball". One of my older co-workers called it a "Rick and Rack". (I didn't even ask her what that meant.)

Anyway, a Bolo Bat is a wooden paddle with a rubber ball attached to it by a rubber string. The object of the game was to keep hitting the ball with the paddle, without missing the ball. (That's a funky explanation, but ya'll know what I'm talking about!

Cowgirl Cre, my coworker, found a few bolo bats at somebody's store...

And she brought those Bolo Bats to work!!

We have some pretty competitive people in our little cubicle area, namely the Infamous Hen-Dog and my bootleg manuscript editor, Ms. Sunshine...

So for a couple of days... THE BOLO BAT BATTLE WAS IN FULL EFFECT....

First of all, I tried working with the plastic bolo bats, but just like with the plastic jacks, I wasn't feeling it. I decided to just hang out and watch the competitions.

The battle became a little fierce between Sunshine and Hen-Dog... and it drew a lot of attention, even from a couple of supervisors. (Sorry management, don't get mad and try to talk smack...There's too much corruption going on for ya'll to get upset about some Bolo Bats!). Why, one of the supervisors took a Bolo Bat and tried to get to herself and practice... She gave up.

She was way out of her league, and I think she knew it... She eventually disappeared to run off and do whatever it is that management does...

Here are a couple of pictures...

Now what I found particular interesting is that Hen-Dog was very, I don't know, "vocal" while working with his Bolo Bat...

"Unh, Unh, UNH, What Gurl? Unh, Unh, Unh, Gurl... You don't want none of THIS, Gurl, Unh!!!..."

I looked around my cubicle at him, with a raised eyebrow...

"Hmmm Hen-Dog... you're sounding a bit sexual there!" I exclaimed.

He's a Q-dog, so I thought we were going to hear a little of that barking that I heard that you Q-Dogs during the sex act...


Sunshine was quiet while she got her bolo bat on...

...biting her lip, hand on her hip!

Wow, I guess we learned a little something about your bedroom behavior during the bolo bat tournaments, too, hunh girl???

LOL LOL LOL!!!! ;)

(Dang...Just kidding with you two.)

Anyway, there was no clear winner. I thought Sunshine was the best bolo batter. All I know, Sunshine was so fierce that she broke 2 bolo bats. (She immediately taped them up.)

She even was able to successfully synchronize two bolo bats at a time! (Don't worry Sunshine, I'm not even gonna touch that! LMAO!!!

I'm in search of real wooden bolo bats, while still searching for the real metal jacks! Will I ever find them?

Who knows??

My best friend Lady Tee called during the bolo bat frenzy...

"What ch'all doing, Lee??"
"Foolin' with these bolo bats, girl!"
"Humph," she sighed.
"Ya'll negroes don't do NO work!"

Yo Lady Tee... I'm not concerned about all that right now.

All I know, right now, we're trying to get our hands on two long jump ropes.

We're thinking about turning a little "Double Dutch"! (Yep, we're thinking BIG now!)

A survey showed that we all can turn double dutch, but none of us can jump it.

Surely someone in the building can do the jumping!

Then we'll just have to figure out how not to bust up our work areas turning those ropes...

Now that right there is a WHOLE 'nother issue!!!!

Saturday, December 10, 2005

I miss Saturday Morning Cartoons, Part VII


I use to love the cartoon series The Flintstones, and I still watch it from time to time.

Now this cartoon series, which was loosely based on the sitcom the Honeymooners, was one of my all-time favorite cartoons. And come to think of it, it really wasn't a Saturday morning cartoon. It was the first cartoon series to air in primetime, though. The original episodes aired in the sixties, but what I remember most is the afternoon syndication runs on WTBS (Turner broadcasting).

This show was about Fred and Wilma Flintstone, and their best friends, Barney and Betty Rubble. I wasn't all that fond of Fred. He was a loud-mouth. Sometimes I wished that Wilma would just haul off and pimp slap his loud ass... Honestly, I don't know how Wilma and Pebbles remained calm around all that loudness.

And I don't know what was up with Betty and Barney. They were cool and all, but I always wondered why the creators of the show hooked Betty up with such a short dude. Well, all I know it was a good thing that Barney Rubble didn't have a Napoleon complex... Although, that subject would have made quite an interesting episode.

Then Bam-Bam, the superbaby, showed up on the scene. I found that disturbing. He just showed up, and he had superhuman strength. Shoot, he couldn't have been my child. I would've had shorty holding up banks and grocery stores. We would've NEVER been short on cash, that's for sure.

I liked the fact that animals were used for cheap labor, like vacuuming, bulldozing, punching timecards, etc. It was very obvious that there were no animal rights groups back in that day... Again, that subject matter would have been an interesting plot for an episode.

Oh, and then there was the big food they use to eat. Remember how the rack of ribs that Fred always ordered in the opening credits of the show would tip the WHOLE car over? Even the eggs were huge. I wish that food that big was possible. The world hunger problem would be solved in a heartbeat!!

And what was up with Fred and Barney using their feet to get the car going. They even used their feet as car brakes. This perplexed me as a child. I thought that had to be quite painful.

Now there was one thing I liked about Fred Flintstone... Oldboy knew how to get the heck on when it was time to get off from work. Remember how he use to happily slide down that dinosaur's back and run like hell for his car? Now that's what I'm talking about!

All in all, I loved the Flintstones... Several seasons are available on DVD and I have managed to buy a copy of the fourth season.

As a matter of fact, I think I'll watch a few episodes of The Flintstones instead of the horrible Atlanta news this Saturday morning!!

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Forgiveness... What does it all mean? Can I get to that point? Am I at that point?

*This is a long post… It’s just that I’m trying to clear my head about a few things.

I had a conversation with a co-worker before Thanksgiving that had me thinking about a few of my ways. We ended up talking about the Thanksgiving Holidays, and what we would be doing, etc.

“So, is your Mother coming over for Thanksgiving?”
“Nope,” I said. “I really don’t fool with her too tough.”
“Awww, you should invite your mother over for Thanksgiving.”
“No, it’s not gong down like that.”

The problem is that I don’t get along with my mother. I haven’t had to deal with her much over the past couple of years because she has had a boyfriend, who eventually became her husband. And when she has a man, well, everyone else is dirt on the ground.

I don’t have a problem with that. Hey, it’s your life, do your thang. The problems begin when she don’t have a man. All of a sudden she wants to be around family. For years, it has been a vicious cycle that has really worn me out. Before this last man, she was Mother of the year. Just like before and after every trifling man.

I knew there was a problem when I first met (very reluctantly) this last man of hers. When he spoke, his breath smelled rank with alcohol. And not that little, “Oh, I just drink a little every now and then” alcohol breath. It was more of a “I’m a lifelong card carrying alcoholic” breath.

Then one day, when I went to pick up my little brother, she was all gussied up. She said, “Yeah, Lee, take the boy with you, and get him some stuff together so he can spend the night with you.”

Uh-oh, I thought to myself. Here we go again. Just when everything was alright, she hooks up with some ingrate with a WHOLE bunch of problems.

Again, I have no problem with this. It’s her life. If she wants to get involved with some fool, then she’s grown. Go right ahead and do it. But the problem is she wants others to validate her decisions. And sorry, I can’t validate her usual choices of men: those who are between jobs, on drugs, and alcoholics. What usually happens is that I stay the hell out of the way…

But I couldn’t do that this time. It was early April, and my brother and I had started a vegetable garden in the backyard. So I was basically stuck with going over there and keeping that up. At the same time, my brother, who was fifteen at the time, had a strong feeling that mother’s new man didn’t want him around. I only lived three miles away, so I made sure to stop by and spend as much time with him as possible. Mother had a new man, you see. Her kids became dirt on the ground.

I didn’t like Mother’s new man. Whenever I was having a conversation with my mother (whether in person or on the phone), he would butt in. He wasn’t a sorry wuss like mother’s other men. This dude was sorry, loud, and trifling.

Well anyway, my brother and I got the garden going good, and mother’s new dude, who had moved in with her, decided he wanted some tomato plants of his own. To make a long story short, he was trying to compete with me and my brother. We made sport of ignoring him. Mother didn’t like that. We were suppose to treat this man like his name was Jesus. That was not going down.

My brother made sure to keep the guy’s tomato plants watered and fertilized, since the guy was trifling as hell, and wasn’t really keeping up with his own plants. Soon, the tomato plants produced a bunch of tomatoes.

One day during the summer, my brother and I had been out tending the garden. It had gotten to a point where the garden was producing. We were picking vegetables on a regular basis.

“Get a tomato, Lee,” my brother suggested.
Boy are you crazy? I ain’t touching that dude’s stuff.”
“Shoot girl, we been using our own fertilizer, and watering his stuff. There are a whole lot of them out here. Get one.” He picked a tomato off the plant and threw it in my basket. We continued picking other vegetables.

Well, Mother’s man noticed that a tomato was missing. (I’m still trying to figure out how Oldboy spotted one tomato out of at least upwards of a hundred tomatoes was missing.)

To make a long story short, I got accused of stealing. I was thinking to myself, “Damn Ma, as much as I make sure you have extra money in your pocket, etc., you just turn on me and accuse me of stealing?”

I told my brother, “NOW you understand why I stay the hell away from here when she has a boyfriend.”

I think my brother gained a little understanding that day.

I lived only three miles from her, so I went home, got the tomato, and brought it back to her house.

She was still talking smack. That was cool. I know I don’t steal, so whatever. I ignored her as usual. I called my Aunt and let her know what happen, just in case my mother decided to drag my name through the dirt with the family. At the same time, I was very angry with myself for getting caught up in such madness. I full well knew that she treated her men as if they were God Almighty. And pure damnation to all who didn't do the same.

I would drive over to my mother’s house on weekday mornings to pick up my brother. He was taking summer school classes and he would catch a ride with me in the mornings so that we could catch the train together. The morning after mother had accused me of stealing, I stopped by, as usual, to pick up my brother. She was in the kitchen making a cake or something.

“Hey Ma,” I said while looking up the steps towards my brother’s room.

She was quiet. She just looked at me. I sat on the steps leading up to the upstairs part of the house. My brother ran downstairs past me and into the kitchen to grab something to eat before we left.

She started in on me again. Just cussed me out. She could not just let it go! I snapped, and ended up getting loud right back with her (which is something TOTALLY out of character for me). To this day, I don’t remember what I said to her. I remember screaming back at her. She threw stuff at me. We tried to run up on each other. My brother had to get in between us. I ran upstairs to the master bedroom and went off on her boyfriend. It scared my brother to death. I remember calming down when I saw how upset he was getting.

My brother ended up grabbing me up and shuffling me out of the house before Ma got too crunk. (She was still trying to get at me.) We got in the car. My brother and I were quiet all the way to the train station.

She ended up writing a letter to me the next day. She said she was sorry for things getting out of hand, but I should stop playing games, etc….

Okay… this confused me. Like I have time to sit around playing trifling games…whatever. Why don’t I just stay out of her way? I had to still go over to help my brother with the garden, though.

Fast forward to now. I simply don’t deal with her. I can’t deal with the stress of having to watch what I say to her, or having to deal with her wanting me to bow down and worship her substandard men. Over this time, she has had a habit of dogging me out to my brother and sister, which I find a bit distrurbing. Yet she smiles in my face when she sees me. This again leaves me deeply disturbed.

But now, she has divorced that fool, after less than a year of marriage. And now she wants to act like nothing ever happened.

This is where my issues with forgiveness come into question. I’ve been through this type of scenario with my mother a few times over the years, usually all over some trifling man. (I remember, at age 21, packing my stuff in plastic bags and sleeping on a friend’s couch for the summer. Ma got an attitude with me because she felt I did not speak in the proper tone to her 26 year old boyfriend, who happen to be living with us. I never moved back home. I started graduate school and got my own place.)

I really feel that I don’t want her to be a part of my life, and I don’t want to be a part of hers.

Gasp! But Ladylee, that’s your mother!

I know that…

The problem is that I have had a lot of peace when not having to deal with my mother’s drama. She is a constant complainer, especially when she doesn’t have a man, and it just emotionally drains me. I've found myself depressed when dealing with her for any length of time. My life has been relatively crisis free, and she frowns upon that. I have to admit that all my life, my relationship with my mother has been superficial at best. I don’t remember going to her for help with anything I was going through on a personal level. I always confided in my friends or their mothers or my aunt. There were just times when I needed straight up help or advice with personal issues, and I didn’t trust my mother to take care of those needs.

I have always kept my private life from her. I remember one time, when I was twenty, she asked me if I was a lesbian. I was real happy that day because I was dating a couple of guys at the time, and I saw that I had done a bang-up job of keeping my love life a secret from her. That meant I could get my swerve on without her judgements about it. I never, to this day, discussed my divorce with her. And I think I had been divorced for a whole year before she ever found out about it.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m cordial. I spent half a day with her at my brother’s Army graduation a couple of weeks ago. Incidently, she had been whining to my brother and sister about how I should share a hotel room with her. That was out of the question for me. Why do you want to share a room with me? You care nothing about me. I expected her to throw a fit over it, but she didn’t. She just talked about me behind my back. So what…

She’s been to my new home. I remember her smiling broadly and saying, “Lee, I’m so proud of you!” And I remember looking at her and thinking to myself, “Stop fronting like you give a damn about me or anything I do.”

Around Thanksgiving, my sister and brother were a little puzzled by the fact that I wasn’t inviting her to my house for Thanksgiving. I’m already not the biggest fan of the Holiday season. My Aunt was coming by with her husband, and my Grandma was also coming over. (My mother and Aunt don’t get along AT ALL. And mother can’t stand the fact that we go to our Aunt with our problems, if we need advice, or if we just need to just plain outright confess some ish.) This has been our usual small family gathering over the past few years. Mother made a big deal out of not being invited, and I thought about just inviting her, and spending my time in my room. But I figured that I just bought my home, and I wanted to be comfortable in my own home, where I pay the mortgage. So I didn’t bother inviting her.

So I don’t know if I’m walking in unforgiveness. I don’t know if I am wrong for being cordial, yet keeping her at arms length. All I know is that I am simply being myself, who I am. It’s just that I can’t stand drama, and she absolutely loves drama. I feel like I would be a full fledge liar if I grinned in her face and acted as if everything was alright. I, Ladylee, am not a big fan of phoniness. I have no desire to do what my much younger brother and sister are doing: trying to catch mother’s love and attention while she is between men. (And trust me, they better catch it quick before the next derelict arrives on the scene.)

This is something I’ve prayed about, because I need a mother’s love. It’s just that it has never been my style to fake the funk with people, even my own mother. And I feel like she is doing that with me…

My brother and sister and I have discussed this at length. “My mother does not love or care for me, and I will not be sitting in her face saying what she wants to hear or stroking her ego. We all know if any of us say one thing wrong, a big fight will break out. And I’m sorry, I’m not going to live my life in that type of bondage to anybody, not even my own mother.”

"No Lee, that ain't true!!!!!" my brother wailed. They were a little upset with me, needles to say.

But that is the very gist of what I feel right now.

People say that I need to work on forgiveness. They say I hold grudges. I’m that way on the job. If you stab me in my back, or knowingly get me caught up in some craziness, and you don’t apologize, then I’m through with you. I’m cordial, and I’ll help you on the job, but don’t expect me to cheese in your face, and you’ll do good not to come fake the funk in my face. Don't expect me to be hanging at your house or sit down and shoot the breeze with you. Phoniness is not my thing. It's just not in me.

I feel like I have forgiven my mother (have I?), but I choose to keep her at arm’s length (like it has been most of my life). It would be phony of me to pretend that everything is alright, though. Like nothing has ever happened.

I'm not looking for agreement, ego-stroking, disagreement, or chastisement here. I'm just trying to work this thing out, get it off my chest, you know. Just writing my feelings out right now has helped me figure some things out...

Looking for the right way to go about things with myself... and with my mother...

Something I will continue to work on and think about…

Monday, December 05, 2005

Water Weight Angst...

Snake, the neighborhood substance user, and I were standing on the my neighbor/co-worker the Infamous Hen-Dog's front porch. We were all dicussing some of the neighborhood politics and what-not.

I took a picture of the Infamous Hen-Dog...

The next day, some of us ladies were at work scrolling through the weekend pictures in my digital camera when we came across Hen-Dog's picture.

"Ladylee," he said, "you shouldn't have taken that picture. I have too much water weight."

We all looked at him like "WTF???"

We all got quiet, trying to absorb what he'd just said.

Cowgirl Cre frowned and spoke. "Hen, you don't need to be going around saying that. That's a girl thing."

I was thinking this myself. I associate bloat and water weight with PMS.

Hen-Dog said "If I can't tell my girls, who can I tell?"

Yeah Hen, you better tell your homegirls. I don't think you should run around screaming that to your boys... you already work out at a gym in Midtown Atlanta... (those from ATL know the fame of Midtown).

"Let's show the picture to my baby's mama," he said.

His baby's mama, who happens to be my bootleg, work-for-free editor Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, took a look at the picture...

"What would you say if you saw this picture and you didn't know me?" Hen-Dog asked.

She said, "Hmm... who is he? And what's with all that water weight?"

I snatched my camera from her hands. Hmm... Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia is as mean as usual.

Hen-Dog went on to give us some convoluted explanation of how he is more ripped after he works out, etc....

He even pulled out the current issue of Men's Health and showed us pictures of other men's bodies.

Okay. Whatever....

Anyway, Hen-Dog, your work out plan is going rather nicely. I still don't quite get the Water Weight issue, though...

And yeah, you do have a six pack...

It's just that someone stole four cans off of your six pack!

You keep working on it, Shorty!

Hen-Dog had a birthday this past Saturday.

Happy belated birthday, Hen-Dog!!

Hen-Dog and I like a lot of the same music, and we be sanging really, really loud and HARD in the car during our carpool to and from work. (Whoever rides in the cars next to us gets FULLY entertained, especially in the mornings!)

So Hen-Dog... I burned some of your favorite music... stuff we listen to (and commentate on) in the lab and in the car! A couple of these cuts are already on CD #5 of the CD changer in your car... It don't hurt to repeat a couple of the songs, right?

"We'll just call it your "Water Weight Days of Angst CD"

Hen Dog's Water Weight Days of Angst Birthday CD...

1. Sugar Free by Juicy (this is usually on repeat in the lab, if no one's hidden it!)

2. Now That We found Love by The O'Jays (we've changed the words to "Now that we've found love what is we gonna do... with it!)

3. Whatever You Want by Tony, Tony, Toni

4. Go Outside in the Rain by Milara (now this is the song we sing real HARD in the car)

5. A Love of Your Own by Average White Band

6. Everything I Miss at Home by Cherelle

7. Please Don't Go by Sylk (Hen likes this song because of all athe wailing and begging Sylk does... I find it a bit unnerving)

8. Cherish the day by Sade

9. You Can't Stop the Rain by Loose Ends

10. Whatever You Need by Anita Baker (another song that we sing real HARD in the car!)

11. It never Rains in Southern California by Tony, Toni, Tone

12. Don't look Any further by Dennis Edwards

13. Slow Down by Loose Ends

Now, Hen- I'm quite sure we will be listening to this CD on the way home...

And hopefully it'll help relieve some of that water weight you say you have!!!

Jeremy's Funeral

Today, December 4, 2005, we buried my beloved tomcat, Jeremy Girard Dorsey, a.k.a. "Lil Head", in the backyard of my house.

Snake, the local crackhead... I mean, um... the local substance user, came over on Saturday and dug a grave for Jeremy.

We planned for a Saturday funeral, but my sister Kay had to work. Then Kay decided that she would rather spend the weekend with her boyfriend in Macon, GA. I was talking on the phone to my best friend Lady Tee when Kay told me this...

"Well Kay, since Jeremy is in the garage in the deep freezer, we can just have the funeral next weekend," I suggested.

"Hell na'll," Lady Tee barked. "You tell Kay to pass by that damn freezer, say a few last words to Jeremy, and then get the heck on. We burying my nephew this weekend."

Hmmm... Kay was cool with that...
The next thing I know, Kay had packed a booty bag and got the hell on...

Doggonit Kay... you skipped Jeremy's funeral for some weekend "twerk" action...

I ain't mad at you...

So there were just three of us at the funeral. We got together after Church and had a 2:30 p.m. funeral.

Pokie, Lady Tee's cousin, was to be the pallbearer, but I chose to go ahead and place Jeremy's casket/cardboard box in the grave myself...

Pokie grabbed the shovel and covered up the box, and I placed a makeshift tombstone on top...

"Ya'll got any departing words?" I asked.

Pokie said, "Yeah... So long, cat. Good-bye."

"I got somethin' to say," Lady Tee declared. "Jeremy, I remember how you use to park yourself in one of them dining room table chairs and hiss and growl at me when I would sit down in a chair next to you. Nigga, I wasn't trying to bother you. I was just trying sit down and eat my birthday dinner, and-"

"Alright, Lady Tee, calm down" I said, trying to console her, because I could see she was about to go off on my deceased cat.

I was the final one to say something.

"Jeremy, I'm gonna miss you, little boy. You were a good cat."

We had a moment of silence. Then we took a few pictures.

"Let's get our eat on," Lady Tee said.

I'd wanted to cook out, but it was raining off and on. So I picked up a 10 piece family box from Churches chicken on the way home from Church...

We sat around and ate chicken, mash potatoes, cole slaw, and biscuits. We also finished off Kay's sweet tea. (Sorry Kay, you'll just have to make some more...)

Then we looked at the Falcons game on television...

...and The Superfriends on my Laptop.

Snake, the local substance user, showed up late for the funeral. I told him that the funeral was over, but he could have a plate of food if he wanted. He declined, gave his condolences, then decided to sit on my front porch and shell some pecans... (He is deeply in love with Lady Tee... I think that's the REAL reason he was lurking around!. She went outside and talked to him for a minute. Dang, I never seen Snake smile so hard!)

But that is how Jeremy's funeral went.

I'm gonna miss you little boy...

You were a good cat.

Yes indeed!

Friday, December 02, 2005

PAYDAY: Where is my Bread??

(Dedicated to my supervisors: Darth Sista T, The Good Sista, and Ms. Tweet...)

All the crap I put up with on this job...
Where are these people with my paycheck?

Darth Sista T, Good Sister, and Interim Supervisor, Ms. Tweet...If you don't know one thing, you better know this...

Ya'll best have my !#%$% PAYCHECK by Friday!!!!

Okay, Okay... ya'll finally gave me my bread... It's about time...

Now you ladies know that I've got nothing but love for you... Nothing but love! Really though. And thanks for my bread...

But I gotta count it... Ya'll, being members of shady management and all, might be trying to cheat me or something, and I'll have to get buck wild up in this workplace and turn over a few tables, chairs, computers, instruments, and chemical glassware...

Humph... This stack of bread feels right, but it might not be right... Let me just be sure about this...

Oh yeah, baby! It's all here!!! Oh yes... Nothing like PAYDAY, baby!!

Now it's 'bout to be all about that "bling-bling" baby...

Oh yes... I'm about to ball 'til I fall!!!!!


Now have a good weekend!!!

**Incidently, does anyone remember this blinging character from School House Rock???

I found him to be...I don't know...

A bit stereotypical.

I could definitely see some parents complaining about him. And that's probably why we don't remember him as well as the "I'm just a Bill" character...

Hmmm.... I ponder, and I'll continue to wonder.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Jacks, Part II

My post a couple of days ago about the game of jacks garnered a lot of attention at work.

So much attention that one of my bootleg manuscript editors Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia brought in a set of jacks that her daughter had gotten as a party favor at a birthday party...

That sure was nice of Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia...

As you can imagine, this caused a slight frenzy amongst the female chemists...

Can you imagine grown women clearing out a space on the floor and playing jacks?

I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself...

I even got a few pictures of my other bootleg manuscript editor, Sunshine, working it out...

Damn Sunshine... you're on the floor in your lab coat... I'm so glad management didn't walk by. We would've scattered like cockroaches and left your butt sitting there...

Looking like a dang fool...

But like I said, you were working out, oldgirl!

She did the darn thing! Picking up six big jacks at a time!

I tried to play, but sorry, I need the old time jacks, those little metal ones. These jacks were twice the size of the jacks from the 70's and 80's. And I swear, the ball here was twice the size of a normal ball...

And it amazed me that a couple of ladies didn't even know about the game of Jacks. Groove, up in Nova Scotia, didn't know about jacks. She said in my comment section that she'd seen them on TV, but never played. (Yikes... the horror!) Maybe it was just an USA game, I don't know.

But I talked to one of my manuscript critiquers and coworkers, Melissa. She had never heard of jacks. And she's from Alabama...

Damn. I went off on her... Wasn't her fault... I just got pissed, that's all...

Then another co-worker, Yo-Yo, said she use to use rocks instead of jacks in her games.

Damn. Ain't nobody that poor. That sound like some old craziness left over from slavery...

But anyway... we are on a quest for some REAL jacks... the little metal ones...

Not that ol' plastic ish... You've got to be kidding me!

And we're gonna sit around and teach Melissa how to play...

Groove, wish you were here, 'cause we'd hook you up too, homegirl!!!

Really though...

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Rest in Peace, Jeremy Girard Dorsey a.k.a. "Jay" a.k.a. "Jason" a.k.a. "Lil' Head".. September 1996- November 29, 2005

I fell asleep on the sofa last night. I'd been working on Chapter 24 of my manuscript (after being threatened by one of my bootleg editors), watching Monday night football, and listening to the sounds of Miki Howard and Cherelle playing softly on my laptop computer...

I don't even remember going to sleep.

I woke up around 5:13 a.m., and felt like I had to go to the bathroom...

I tried to go in the bathroom from the hallway door but couldn't open it. I forgot that Jeremy, my 9-year-old orange tomcat, had taken to laying in the middle of the bathroom floor for the past couple of days.

"Jeremy, would you move?" I said with a sigh.

He usually growls loudly as a protest, but he usually gets up and moves out of the way.

This time, he didn't move.

I walked into my master bedroom to enter my bathroom through the spacesaver door that leads from the bedroom to the bathroom...

I turned on the light, but I didn't go in. Jeremy was laid out on the floor. He's about 2 and 1/2 feet long, so he was completely stretched out, mouth open with a yellow liquid coming out.

"Jeremy?" I called. I leaned down and looked at him.

No response. He wasn't moving.

"Jeremy, get up!" I yelled. "Please get up, boy!"

He didn't move.

I realized that he had died.

I looked at him and all around me for a few minutes not realizing what to do.

I went upstairs to my sister Kay's bedroom and lightly knocked on her door.

"Kay, Jeremy died sometime last night," I said quietly.

And then came the tears. "At least he's not suffering anymore, Lisa," she consoled.

It hurt so bad. She hugged me and told me that it was going to be alright.

"Do me a favor," I said. "Call Auntie for me." My Auntie has roughly nine cats, and has had to bury some over the years. (She'd just buried a brown tabby, Tigee, on Saturday-- Sorry for your loss, Auntie). I have never had to clean up a deceased animal, and I knew she would know what to do.

I walked back downstairs while Kay called Auntie. Kay gave me her cell phone. Auntie told me to find a box, line it with a towel, and put him in there. Then tape up the box and bury it in the backyard. I nodded and said "okay" through my tears, and gave the phone back to Kay.

I'd recently moved, so we had a few boxes out in the garage. I got one, line it with a big plastic bag, and then Kay and I picked Jeremy up and put him in the box. We wrapped him in the towels, and placed the box in a plastic bag. I put the box in the garage.

I think I will try to bury him before the weekend.

Jeremy had been sick for awhile. I took him to the vet back in September. Blood tests and X-rays showed that, although he was overweight (Jeremy weighed a hefty 21 pounds), he was pretty healthy (no diabetes, etc.). They kept in a hospital for a few days. Since they couldn't find anything wrong with him, I decided to bring him home so if he did die, he would die at home.

Once we moved, he seem alright for the month of October and part of November. He was running around the house, playing and fighting as usual with my other cat, Oscar Tyrone. I figured since he could run up and down the steps with ease, he must've been alright.

But he wasn't...

Approximately two to three weeks ago, he became lethargic and stopped eating. He would only sleep, and began vomiting a little. Then he stopped grooming himself, and began to smell a little. So I would dilute a little alcohol with water every few days and rub him down to freshen him up.

I didn't think Jeremy would be around much longer. He wasn't his usual grumpy self. He was just very very quiet.

On Sunday, he started acting real strange... Doing weird stuff like laying on the floor in the middle of the bathroom, or just sitting in a corner with his face to the wall. I knew he hadn't eaten much all week, but for some reason he would eat a little chopped up Thanksgiving turkey or macaroni and cheese. But he wouldn't eat anything on Monday morning. As a matter of fact, I hadn't seen him since then.

I didn't see him again until this morning... laid out on the bathroom floor.

So this post is a farewell to my beloved Jeremy Girard Dorsey, a.k.a. "Jay", a.k.a., "Jason", a.k.a. "Lil' Head"...

I had him for 9 years, every since I was in graduate school, living in Grant Park. I got him from my lil' brother Da'Kari, who was nine years old at the time. He thought that Jeremy could help with a mice problem I was having. Jeremy has lived all over Atlanta with me, and has even lived with me in New Orleans for a couple of years...

Jeremy is even the reason I stopped smoking weed. (Thank goodness for that!)

I've always looked at Jeremy and said "Damn boy... if you could talk, you would have a WHOLE lot of stories to tell about Oldgirl Ladylee :)"

So rest in peace "Lil' Head"! I will always remember you!


Monday, November 28, 2005

Remembering Days of Old... Jacks!!!!

How ya'll like the new "photo" that I added to my blog profile a couple of days ago???

I saw this little girl the Friday after Thanksgiving... Cowgirl Cre, The Infamous Hen-Dog, and I were sitting around at work watching SchoolHouse Rock (all 46 snippets) on my laptop computer. (Yeah, I know, we should have been working... I got a little work done, but I was a lazy ass, too; But it was all worth it to see the Infamous Hen-Dog doing the running man, the Omega Psi Phi stomp, or whatever that little jig was he was working on, to "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly Get your Adverbs Here!" LMAO...HILARIOUS)...

But anyway...This little black girl was a part of the "I Got Six" SchoolHouse Rock snippet...

Cowgirl Cre and I, who had been swaying HARD from side to side, and sanging real HARD to the other snippets didn't recognize the "I Got Six" snippet... (Imagine us sitting there, all quiet, squinting real hard at the laptop...)

Well, we saw this little girl... she was smiling hard counting eggs and placing them in cartoons. Then the eggs hatched, and she started counting little chicks...

Then later on, she started playing jacks!

Cowgirl Cre and I screamed at the same time...


Now, I use to be DOWN for some jacks when I was little. You oldgirls (and some of you oldboys) who are between the ages of thirty and forty-something know EXACTLY what I'm talkin' about. Talk about hours of fun...

And if you had the colorful jacks and the colorful ball??

Oh Lawd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now that was a real game. Bump this playstation sh*t..... Jacks was the bomb back in the day...

My friends and I would get into HEATED arguments if any one of us picked up them jacks the wrong way... And you were Baaadddd if you could pick up over 15 jacks and then catch that ball after one bounce...

Dayum!! And I use to cheese just as hard as this little girl if I won a game...

So that picture takes me back to a time when I would sit on the floor in the middle of the kitchen or on the floor at school (shoot, any smooth level surface would do...) and play jacks...

For hours at a time...

Today's girls don't know what they're missing.

And the sad thing is that I don't even know where to buy jacks...

Hey, maybe they got it for Xbox 360 or Playstation 2!!

(Yeah Right...)

Tuesday, November 22, 2005


"The ceremony will begin in approximately one minute."

That's when I began to tear up. I was so happy that I would soon see my little brother Da'Kari!

It's been five months since I last saw him. I spent a couple of hours with him before he had to ship out from Fort Gilliem in Forest Park, GA back on June 29. I cried even then on my way to see him ship out. I cried when he got on the bus. And I cried all the way back to work.

I've been a crying fool! He was my main running buddy, so I've been missing him something awful...

He's been in basic training down at Fort Benning in Columbus Georgia since June 29. It's one and a half hours from my home. The drive was horrendous, since it stormed something terrible during most of my drive.

I cried a little more when he marched out. He doesn't even look the same. Not an ounce of baby fat. No facial hair (save for his thick eyebrows!). He's grown a couple of inches. I almost didn't recognize him!

It was such a good feeling to get a big hug from him, and just to see that he was alright. He should have graduated way back in mid-September, but was sidelined with a knee injury. So he had to repeat basic training.

He was part of a demonstration where he came out dressed in full camouflage gear and carrying a grenade launcher. I found that to be a bit scary! LOL!

But overall, he was so happy, and he had some crazy basic training stories to tell... He's so freakin' polite now. Everything is "Yes ma'am" or "Yes Sir". It took him a while, but he eventually started calling me "Shawty!" again!

I was so proud of him! I can honestly say that I am so glad that we went ahead and did what he wanted to do: join the army.

He is in Baltimore, Maryland for 3 months on his regular training.

So congratulations lil' boy!!! And continued success up in B-More, Maryland...

I'll get up with you on your Christmas break!