Vacation Food Pics (part I): The Itis

One thing about that cruise: I had the "Itis" something terrible.

There was too much food. WAY TOO MUCH FOOD.

EVERYTIME I turned around, it was time to go eat.

"Come on Lee, let's go eat."

*LadyLee scrunches up face*

The whole trip, I was whining, saying "It's too MUCH!!!!!"

There was food 24 hours a day. DANG. Breakfast in the morning, complete with a made to order omelete station. All the fruit in the world. Every dang cereal imaginable. Pizza and ice cream 24 hours a day. A stir fry station everyday. Hamburgers, hot dogs, nachos all the time.

Goodness Gracious alive.

My roomate, "Delta Hound", didn't like the buffet style stuff that was always available. She liked to go to the main dining room and be served!

They did have it all set up nice, though.

But I preferred to dine on the Lido deck. The main dining room felt too much like a restaurant with all the fancy napkins and fancy menus.


(White folk sure do like to lay out in the hot sun, don't they? LOL!!!)

Man, I got to the point where I would just stuff my bag with fruit and take it back to my room. i know people were looking at me like "Dang! She stealing free stuff!" Whatever. There were a couple of times when I had only fruit for breakfast or dinner.

The BEST seafood I had, though, was not on the boat. It was at the Club Cozumel Caribe private beach in Cozumel. I had some calamari and some coconut shrimp.

That seafood was GOOD. Even the tequila sauces and cilantro sauces were off the chain. And this place, Club Cozumel Caribe, is supposedly $130/night for a 2 bedroom, 2 bath condo rental. The studios were cheaper, around 50 to 60 bucks a night.

(I would have my tail down there ALL the time if it wasn't for the $600-$800 plane ticket. )

(Don't think I didn't check all of that out. Don't let AirTrans mess around and have a 100 dollar special. An Oldgirl is GONE if I can hook that right there up. LOL!!!)

Back in New Orleans, one of my favorite places to eat is at a seafood place called Deanies, located in Bucktown near Lake Ponchartrain.

My good friend Gigi (who I will talk about in a future post) and I stopped through there.

I had the barbequed head-on shrimp and french bread.

That was some GOOD eating! Messy as all get out, but good!!

Gigi had the HALF seafood platter.

That don't make no doggone sense AT ALL. That is enough food to feed a small tribe.

Cowgirl Cre made me email the place to ask if they could ship a platter overnight by Federal Express! LOL!!

(You should see the $49.95 full seafood platter. Way too much food. Way too much.)

Gigi nibbled on hers, and then boxed it up and took it home to the family!

Too much food... all the time.

Itis to the max!

Stay tuned for another food post next week.

Happy Mardi Gras (More Vacation pics)

Happy Mardi Gras to all the New Orleans Natives!!

Today is a holiday down in New Orleans. I remember when I lived down there, from 1998-2001, Mardi Gras fell on a day after Presidents day, so that was a 4 day weekend... OH JOY!

(I am actually off today with a hellacious cold. Thought I'd go to work, but when I woke up with a sore throat, I was down for the count. So, uh Happy Mardi Gras day to me today too, lol)

Anyway, Carnival starts a couple of weeks before Mardi Gras day, so while I was in New Orleans earlier this month, I was able to catch one of the parades. I believe this one was the Krewe of Oshun, which made its run on Valentine Day.

The costumes were pretty, but the floats were not grand and over-the-top like Endymion, Rex, or Zulu. I caught a few beads, but handed them off to the little kids around me. (That whole bead catching thing played out with me after my first Mardi Gras down there).

Prior to the parade, my travel mates "Delta Hound" and "Aunt Ray-Ray" wanted some beignets from Cafe du Monde. So we took the long walk from our hotel to the place. We got our treats and walked down Bourbon street towards the parade route.

"Delta Hound" wanted a drink that she had the night before at a Daquiri shop somewhere on Bourbon. Fooling with these chicks, I ended up drinking some Vampire Blood Daquiri mixed with 190 octane. (I must stop running with lushes!)

Here are a few pics of our trek down Bourbon street.






We got separated when Aunt Ray-Ray heard EU's "Doing the Butt" streaming from some club. She disappeared in there, and Delta Hound was quick on her heels.

I kept walking. After all that liquor, I felt a bathroom break coming on. (And I was NOT going to a restroom in the quarters).

That was the extent of my Mardi Gras "Fun", lol.

(I can't deal with the lushes anymore. Got an Oldgirl sipping on liquor and ish).

You New Orleans peeps... enjoy your day and your ages old tradition!

Happy Monday Morning

Good Morning!

Well, it's closer to afternoon, but I am having trouble getting off to a running start.

We're all kind of laid back here at work today, as my boss, The Darth Sista, is doing some on-site training somewhere in the building. So we are all smiling big like Miss Celie smiled.

But we can still hear the click of her heels when she runs into her office on break.

I was telling the folks in the cubicle area, "She need to do some off site training. Waaaaay off-site, like at least 2 states away!"

LOL!!!

Oh well... hopefully she won't harrass me today. I am NOT in the mood.

My weekend. I had a great weekend. Got a few things done around the house (chores are neverending; I need a maid and a butler). I had a great book club meeting, and a great financial freedom fighters meeting. I am getting a bit closer every month to paying off my debt (minus the mortgage), so I am happy about that.

I have a slight cold right now, which means my butt needs to be home in the bed. We all caught some craziness from "Aunt Ray-Ray", who had a nasty cough during the cruise.

I was looking at her sideways during the meeting yesterday.

And Aunt Flo came knocking. UGGGGGGH!!! (LOL)

Anyway, I am here, alive and semi-well. LIFE IS GRAND. Period.

Black History Month. It's almost over, ain't it?

My coworker, Lieutennant Meek-Meek, complained last week that there was not much going on for black history month. You know, like special programs, etc.

I looked at her like she was straight CRAZY.

We. Have. A. Black. President.

If that ain't black history, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.

Nothing... no special programs, nothing... trumps that.

I must tell you: it is WONDERFUL waking up every morning, turning on one of the news channels, and seeing a BLACK president.

If that ain't black history, I don't know what is.

But there are some good programs on television. I've seen a lot of good programs on PBS. Ol' Cheap Seats Terry has me immensely interested in historical stuff these days, so I search out whatever I can. And if you look around, you will find good black history programs.

This week. A light week for me. My boss has banned me to instrument maintenance, which I have no problem with. I don't trust that, though. I told that broad that she likes to line up her monkey wrenchs and hurl them at me with a vengence. This pisses me off something terrible.

She's not around much for the next couple of days, so MAYBE I can get everything done on my itinerary.

(MAYBE).

Sorry about not posting more about the vacation. It was just SO immense that I can't sort it all out on my mind. MUCH happened, and the cruise was only half of the vacation. Hmmm....

Stay tuned for that... I will just let the posts flow in whatever order and not worry about it.

And remember:

No matter what's going on in your life:

You are here, you are breathing, and the blood is running warm through your veins...

You are alright. Things could be worse. I tell myself this whether I am having a GREAT day or I feel like slitting my throat and throwing myself off the roof.

I am alright and life is good. Period.

Now take that!

And have a good week... on purpose.

Really.

Bon Voyage Pictures

I arrived at the ATL airport around 6:45 a.m. It was still dark. My sister Kentucky dropped me off. I whined the whole time ("Did I get everything"). Let's just say, Kentucky did her best not to shove my butt out the car, lol...

But it was nice to see a beautiful sunrise as I sat and waited for my plane to begin boarding.

My first real view of the ship, as we were boarding at the Port of New Orleans.

I thought we would have a big Bon Voyage, like they use to have on The Love Boat, but it wasn't like that. We had a boat drill, to let us know where to go to jump on our life boats just in case some ol' Titanic mess jumped off. And we all stood on the decks, clutching our life jackets, waving at whoever would wave good-bye to us... Oh. Joy.

So I took pictures as we sailed down the Mississippi river towards the Gulf of Mexico.

Some folks taking the Natchez Ferry down the Mississippi were very happy to give us a decent Bon Voyage. They waved and screamed and waved as we went by.

That ship behind the Natchez. THAT is the ship I want to be all up on. "The World" ship. I would love to go on a good 2 or 3 month cruise. That would be hot!!

( 65 day cruises start at about $15,000.00. Rolling all around the Carribean, South America, and Anartica. Who's going with me? Come on, Southern Black Gal! LOL)

I got a good shot of Jackson Cathedral in Jackson Square, even from the boat.

(That shot there is for The LBeezy and The Cyncere Sister, true New Orleans natives.)

A shot of a Naval ship. There's a base down there somewhere.

And what I thought was the most wonderfullest picture of all:

A delapidated building, with a most wonderful message near its rooftop:

Now if that don't jack up your self-esteem and self worth, then I don't know what will...

(More cruise pics to come...)

Water

I have NO idea how to blog about my vacation without being terribly longwinded. (Yes, even I upset myself with my long-windedness).

But when I think of this vacation, my very first one to be exact, I think about where every thing started.

Where and when the seed was planted.

(Yes, I still have "seed" on the brain.)

Anyway, ya'll know I just love me some Tayari Jones aka "Miss Celie". She is my idol. I'm down for Miss Celie. She's the baddest writing diva in the solar system. She is the MAN. I have NO idea how I even have my favorite author on speed dial, lol, but heck, I ain't complaining about THAT at all!!

One thing that that Oldgirl does is travel.

And I don't mean a little bit of travel. She does it with a vengence. This broad goes EVERYWHERE all the time. I really don't think she knows how to sit still. She would probably pass out if she had to... I get all tired in trying to just keep up with her, lol.

Let's just say, she's been to Africa twice in the last few months.

That's what I call traveling.

Well, I have been living vicariously through her travels.

She'll blog about it. She post some pictures. We have spoken on the phone about it. We have emailed and texted about it. The chick is very detailed. She tell it ALL, lol.

Somehow, all her words have been affecting me.

And you know what I be screaming every now and then: Words produce thoughts, thoughts produce action, etc...

One time, sometime back in the Summer of 2008, she went somewhere called the Adironacks. I remember looking at the word, wondering how to properly pronounce it, much less where it was at.

Of course we talked about it.

But, she posted some pictures that just struck me for some reason.

I suppose it was because I'd seen similar terrain on my travels back and forth between New Orleans and Atlanta when I lived down in New Orleans.

But at the same time, perusing these images and talking to Miss Celie about it... well, something took root.

Started having some thoughts of:

"I'ma go on a vacation."

I put that water picture up as my screen saver on my computers... So everytime I turned a computer on, I saw that water picture.



So, everytime I turned on my laptop (and for a VERY long time, my work computer), I saw water.

And I thought about going somewhere where there as water.
I was invited to go along on a couple of cruises. Didn't make the first one, as I thought the price was a bit too steep.

But I happen to go on the second one. And the icing on the cake was that it was starting on my birthday. THAT was a good sign.

So, I actually went on vacation. Took a 5-day cruise that stopped in Cozumel and Progreso.

And now...

I have some water pictures of my own:

From the Cruise ship:

From a private beach in Cozumel.

Again, from the ship.





From that same Cozumel beach.



In Progreso, Yucatan.



I even caught a couple of amazing sunrises.



I have a gazillion pictures, but I won't post them all. Just those few were the ones I loved the most.

So, Miss Celie, and blog fam... I must say....

Words and images can be powerful seeds. I am glad the good ones took root in good ground (my heart).

I am so happy that I have my own travel tales to tell.

Happy indeed.

I'm Baaaaaccck!!

Good Merning!!

I say, I say, I say... Good Merrrrrrrrrnnnnnnniiiiiing!!!!!!

I am officially back from VACATION.

That feels good to say, as my vacations are usually "staycations", i.e., stay-at-home deals.

But this was my first vacation as an adult. 39 years old and haven't been anywhere of my own choosing. Sure, I've been many places, on the job's dime, but nowhere on my own.

Well, that ain't gonna happen no more. I'm taking my butt somewhere, even if it is a couple of hours away. I'm going somewhere.... and I'm doing it ON PURPOSE.

I deserve that much.

So, I plan on doing some vacationing once a year. That is the goal. Simple enough. Save a small amount from each paycheck in a travel fund, and voila... vacation paid for in full.

I took 697 pictures. I will post about that for the next umpteen weeks!!

But I have to do an Afterword for the Story week. I might as well knock that out now...

"Ma'am" is a spin-off story. This is a very BAD habit of mine, as I will write a story, and there will be several offshoots.

I have 6 chapters of a novella written concerning the Booker, i.e., "Johnny Bird" character. He is a man, as you can tell from Story week, who has a lot of isshas... Here's an excerpt from chapter one of that story (entitled "Watch")". Booker had a penchant for picking up women in clubs when he was out on business trips, but something happened in Alabama that made him stop cold turkey.

"He stopped cold turkey when he woke up in an Alabama hotel room one morning butt naked, spread eagle, mouth duct taped shut, his hands handcuffed to the bedpost. The lovely lady he'd picked up that night in a bar was not so lovely now, sitting there on the bed, with a blackened eye and swollen bottom lip. She screamed how she’d never been treated like that before by a man. She hit him in the head repeatedly with the lamp from the nightstand. When that broke, she bashed him in the head with the phone and the Gideon bible. He passed out. The next thing he remembered was the scream of the hotel maid. He was embarrassed that she saw him that way. The hotel maid was as old as his own mother."

Now, I wondered about this woman in the hotel room. She wasn't the ho-ish or scandalous type. She doesn't even show up in the story anymore. But I wondered how she felt about what happened to her, how she felt about taking his stuff, why she'd swiped his wallet, all that...

LBeezy and I talked about this yesterday. First of all, in this day and age, I ain't going home with NOBODY from a club. NOPE. Negroes is crazy. But doggonit, I myself would've stuck dude up for everything he had if I had the chance, especially after all that mess he put me through...

And wouldn't have felt guilty about it. I wouldn't have written a letter or nothing. Bump that.

But this chick had some self esteem isshas, didn't feel all that great about herself. And the guilt was eating her up... for months. I imagined her writing MANY letters, short ones saying a simple "I'm sorry", to long, drawn out ones, explaining herself. She finally settled on the polite one that is at the center of the story.

I suppose the letter she wrote eased that guilt. And it inflicted more trouble for Booker in the process.

And it all posed an interesting ages old moral question: You come across a wallet packed with cash, would you steal it? Under what circumstances? And is stealing justifiable under certain circumstances?

Hmmm...

Anyway, it was something I wrote over the Christmas holidays that helped bring depth to the novella. Alberta, the wife, had been running around seemingly oblivious to what Booker has been up to. Apparently she is not, as she has that letter.

Hmmm...

Well, that's that. That's the long-winded afterword, lol. I like doing that, because it makes me think.

But...

I'ma need you to stay tuned for the next week of some of the tales of my vacation.

Of course, I can't tell everything... got to protect the guilty!

LOL!!!

Today is President's Day, and I am OFF. I will spend the day unpacking and cleaning up and getting back into the groove of things. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I slept the day away yesterday, lol.

So ya'll make it a great week.

...On Purpose.

Story Week: Ma'am (Part V)

Alberta stared at the letter for the longest.

She was jarred by the yelling and screaming of the girl that she had wondered about earlier. The girl had not only won the car, but had won the showcase.

Alberta stared at the screen, carefully folded the letter as small and tight as it could be folded.

She walked over to the phone and called Booker at his office.

“Booker,” she said. “I have some good news for you.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Your wallet was returned.”

There was a long silence. “So you say?” he finally said, his voice quiet.

Alberta laughed. “Yes, it came in the mail.”

The silence became a third party, an intruder even, in their conversation.

“I guess the police found it and sent it,” she said, as she placed the tightly folded letter in her bra.

“It’s a shame you had to go through all that calling the credit card companies and all, canceling your cards. Looks like your cards all there, even your license. Wasn’t any money in it, though.”

“No, no,” Booker said, “I didn’t have any money in it. You know, these days, it’s easier to use a credit card. No money needed.”

Alberta said nothing.

“Well, you just hold that for me. I’ll get it when I get home.”

“That’s fine. And I’ll have dinner ready for you. Got your favorites tonight, porkchops, creamed corn, cabbage and cornbread.”

“Now, that sound mighty fine, Alberta. Mighty fine.”

“I’m sure it do,” Alberta said.

“Well, uh, you hold on to that wallet for me. I want to have a look at it when I get home. It’s gonna be real strange holding a wallet that a mugger stole from me.”

“Un-hunh,” Alberta said. “See you when you get home.”

She hung up without even hearing her goodbye.

The noon news was on. “Good Lord, all this mess has made me miss the end of my game show.”

She touched the place where the letter rested against her chest.

The newsman’s voice of urgency about breaking news became a cold drone to her ears.

Story Week: Ma'am (Part IV)

He proceeded to do things to me that I don’t care to write about.

He liked S&M, something I knew of, but never thought I would be the unwilling participant in. He put tape over my mouth to muffle my screams, beat me terribly, called me every horrible name except for my own. He raped me over and over again. Just writing these words, I am shaking and scared. But Ma’am, this is what happened to me. At least I am alive to write what Johnny Bird did to me. This is how I choose to think of it.

He drank more of his Crown, even poured some on my body. It burned my cuts something terrible. When he’d said that he was tired, and needed some rest before we started up again, I was able to convince him to uncuff me and let me use the bathroom. I didn’t want to pee on myself. He told me to go to the bathroom, and come right back. I stumbled into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. All was quiet save for the hard knocking of my knees together. I didn’t come out until I heard his loud snores.

Johnny lay on the bed spread eagle, naked to the world. The handcuffs fell off the bed when he moved his leg. I quickly gathered up my clothing, but I couldn’t find my panties. I decided to leave them. The longer I stayed there, the more of a chance he’d wake up.

I snatched my clothes on in the living room, looking over my shoulder as I did. I believe I would’ve fainted if he would’ve run up on me again.

I happen to look up and catch the reflection of my face in a large mirror that hung over the love seat. My eyes were near swollen shut, my cheeks purple with bruises. A trail of blood flowed from my nose.

I had to get out of there. I remembered him placing his keys and wallet in the pocket of his jacket. His jacket lay across the back of the recliner in the living room. I dug around in the jacket and found his keys and wallet. There was money in there, but what I noticed was the picture of you, Ma’am, and your husband Johnny Bird. The date on the back of it said it was taken a couple of weeks before that awful night. It had your names and the date of your wedding anniversary, the day the picture was taken.

Johnny Bird was a liar. And Johnny Bird wasn’t even his real name.

The next thing I know, I was standing over Johnny Bird with an empty champagne bottle in my hand. For the life of me, I can’t remember walking from that living room and into the bedroom. I never believed when someone would say that they didn’t remember committing a crime, thought they were lying.

Now I understand. Trauma made me do strange things.

I knocked him upside the head with that bottle. He woke up with a start, his face bleeding from the broken glass. He was handcuffed to the bed, and duct tape was over his mouth. I must’ve done that too, but Ma’am, I can’t say that I remember.

I showed him the picture of you and he together. Told him that he was a liar. He kicked his foot out at me, knocking me hard in the thigh. I knocked him in the head with the lamp and the phone from the night stand. I smashed him in the face with the Gideon Bible. He passed out.

I ran from the room, and saw the wallet on the floor next to his keys. I snatched up the keys, trying my best to find the one to his car. Then I remembered when at the bar, he placed the hundred dollar bill on the bar. I looked in the wallet, and there was a stack of hundreds there. I shoved the wallet in my coat pocket and ran out the door.

I drove his car back to the club. I parked it on the far side of the parking lot, and threw the keys hard into a nearby wooded area. I hurried to my car and left.

Ma’am I was afraid for several days. I turned on the news every day and night, expecting to see my face on the TV as a part of the crimestopper reports. It never happened. I kept the wallet in the back of my closet, as I was pondering whether to turn myself into the police or not.

Instead, some two weeks later, I went in for my court date and paid my speeding ticket in full and in cash.

I was afraid. The police didn’t recognize me. They called me Ma’am, showed me respect. I left, with my record clear.

My conscience was not. I kept thinking about the wallet and the cash. Your husband is a man with a problem, but that didn’t mean I should’ve taken money from him. That was money that he earned, and I was taking food out of your family’s mouth.

So, I am returning the wallet. I kept the money. I ask you to forgive me, but after all I went through, I told myself that God was blessing me in the process. I know that this is a lie, and I should not involve God’s good name. But the least I can do is return this wallet and say that I am so sorry.

Ma’am, I just wanted you to know that your husband is a very sick man, and that he should get some help for his problems. Someone is going to get hurt worser than me. God forbid he kill a woman with his evil sex games.

Again I am sorry.

Sincerely,

Jane Doe.

Story Week: Ma'am (Part III)

The man was polite enough, asking if I mined if he sat and talk with me. I said no.

He said his name was Johnny Bird, and he was the youngest son of jazz great Charlie Bird. Now, I didn’t know much about jazz, but I had heard of a Charlie Bird.

Johnny said he was in town on business. A bellhop at the hotel recommended the club. He thought it would be a good place to get a quick drink. He didn’t know he would be so blessed as to meet a fine woman like me. Even in my less than sober state of mind, I knew he was just flirting. I was happy to laugh.

What pulled at my heart strings was how he talked of his nasty divorce from his wife. She’d gotten everything, he’d gotten nothing. He was a little lonely, and wanted to someday get back in the dating game.

We talked for awhile, and I told him of my woes. He nodded every so often, stared into my eyes while he sipped from his glass.

The music got louder and faster, and more people came in. It was hot. Johnny Bird asked if I’d like to go someplace a little less crowded, where we could continue talking. I saw nothing wrong with that. He had been nothing short of a gentleman.

He slid off the barstool and removed his wallet from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He laid a crisp hundred dollar bill on the bar and told the bartender to keep the change. Johnny Bird offered me his arm and we left the club.

He suggested we go back to his hotel room. I rode with there instead of following him in my car. The club was in a shopping strip, so my car should’ve been okay until he brought me back.

We got to the hotel and sat on the sofa in his suite. I’d never been in a hotel that had a bedroom, living and dining room, and kitchenette. He said that he liked to be comfortable whenever he travelled, and to feel as close to home as possible.

We sat on the sofa and talked awhile. He ordered a bottle of champagne from room service, and even brought out a big bottle of Crown and drank much of it.

I was not up to going back to my car, so I asked if I could stay until morning and sleep on the sofa. He said yes, if I’d allow him a kiss. That didn’t seem like it would be a problem. Afterall, he’d been very nice to me.

The kiss was nice, as I expected from him. He said he wanted to have sex. It was the first time in a long time that he’d been with a woman who helped ease the pain of his divorce. I wasn’t really interested, but he talked me into it. He said he had condoms, and he liked that I helped ease all of his hurt and pain.

We had sex once. I felt a bit strange, because I’d never been with a man old enough to be my father. We lay in bed and drank some more. I even fell asleep.

I awoke to him laying beside me, my hands handcuffed to the bed.

(to be continued...)

Story Week: Ma'am (Part II)

Ma’am,

I am returning your husband’s wallet to you. I want to apologize for stealing it. I am returning it, but it has no money in it. I kept the 1280 dollars that is in it. I want to apologize for keeping the money. I am sorry, but I needed it. And after what your husband put me through, I deserved that money.

It was a Friday, 9 months ago, late in September. I was a bit down that week because I’d gotten a ticket for speeding and running a red light. The ticket would cost me over six hundred dollars. I am a secretary, and I go to school at night. This was something I couldn’t afford.

I’d just gotten paid that Friday, and I decided to go for a ride. I know this is stupid, with gas as how as t is these days. But nothing clears my mind like a long drive and a good cigarette. I had quit smoking, but stress always brang out the worst in me. So I found a back road and just drove and smoked.

I came across a club, some new place in a strip mall on the east side of town. Only a few cars dotted the parking lot. A neon Ladies Night sign glowed brightly in the window. I decided to go in. I wasn’t much of a drinker but I thought I could use something to take me away from my problems, if only for a little while. The cigarettes and the open road just wasn’t doing it for me.

I went in and there were more people there than I thought. I found a seat at the end of the bar, in a good place where I could do some people watching. I don’t drank much, but when I do, I like a glass of wine.

The bartender gave me something a little different, called a busted black cherry. Since it was free, I drank it. It was triple sec and rum, with crushed black cherries, not those cheap fire red plastic looking ones. I hate those. But these cherries, they’d been soaked in vodka for days, and right there, I should’ve said no. I know good and well I don’t deal with nothing like that. After drinking only half of the drink, I felt a little light-headed. I drank it too fast, I guess.

More people came in, later that night. I had been sitting there for two hours, sipping my drinks. By that time, I was on my third Busted Black Cherry, and I was pretty much wasted. That was okay, because the bartender was keeping me company. It was catfish night, three dollar plate special. Black people come out the woodworks for good fried fish.

The bartender took my empty glass and gave me another. I told him no, I couldn’t drink anymore, needed to sit there another hour to sober up so I could drive home. If I drank another, I would probably end up sleeping it off outside in my car.

But he said it was sent over compliments of a gentleman who had been admiring me from the other side of the bar. I looked down that way, and the man smiled, lifted his drink and nodded at me.

I didn’t know what to do. I am not the prettiest woman in the world. I am tall, real dark. I am skinny like Olive Oyl on a diet. Hadn’t had a man pay attention to me in a long time. So it felt good to have this strange man send me a drink. That alone made my day.

Each time my glass was about empty, the bartender would refresh it. I tried to tell him no, but the drinks were paid for. Each time, the mysterious man at the end of the bar would raise his drink and smile wide and wink.

At that rate, there was no way I was going to be able to drive the twenty miles home.

I’d closed my eyes and was enjoying the music, when someone cleared their throat loudly. I opened my eyes to see the man who’d been sending my drinks.

Now, my Grandmama told me never to trust a man who had conked hair, who’s hair was prettier than mine. She said they were trouble, and I should cut loose and run fast in the opposite direction.

But I only thought about that for a minute. The liquor was running my mind, so my mind wasn't quite right...

Story Week: Ma'am (Part I)

Alberta didn’t know who could be knocking on her door so early in the morning.

Couldn’t be the Witnesses. It’d been a long time since they’d come knocking. It was a waste of their time, as Alberta never answered the door.

No, it wasn’t them. They would ring the doorbell, and then follow it up with six soft knocks on the door. The knock on the door this time was the ages old shave and a haircut. The Witnesses wouldn’t resort to trickery to convert people.

Alberta got up from the couch and went over to the window and peered through the sheer curtains. A mail truck was parked in front of the house.

“Mail man. Booker must've ordered something,” Alberta said.

She opened the door, only a crack.

“Mail,” the man said. He shook the small box in the air. “You got a package.”

Alberta opened the door wider..

“Good Morning, Ms. Alberta,” the mailman said.

“Good Morning,” Alberta replied. She didn’t know the mailman’s name. She’d never talked to him, save for a quick comment about the weather or a lazy wave whenever mail was placed in the box.

No need for names when there was nothing but mere polite banter.

“Got a package here for you, Ms. Alberta. Priority mail. You don’t have to sign for it, but it won’t quite fit in that old mailbox of yours.”

Alberta took the package. “Must be for Booker. Thank you.”

“No, it’s for you,” the mailman said. He pointed a finger at the address. Got your name right on it.”

“Funny, I never get packages,” she said.

“Well there’s always a first time,” he said. He flipped a monogrammed handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped sweat from his face.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” the mailman said. He turned to head down the stone steps. “Make sure you get out here and enjoy some of this good sunshine, now. Weatherman say it’s gonna be 80 degrees today. Can’t beat that after it’s been near hundred all week.”

“No, I guess you can’t,” she said, as she flipped the package in her hand. She closed the door.

Alberta went to sit back down on the sofa. She’d been watching The Price is Right when the doorbell rang.

“Wonder if that girl won that car?" she said to herself as she squeezed the bulky yellow package.

It was too late now. She would find out when the big wheel was spun.

Alberta flipped the package over and over in her hand and examined the writing. Her name was printed neatly in large print, but there was no return address. The postmark was metered, and showed that it had been mailed from Birmingham Alabama.

“Humph,” she snorted. She’d been down to Alabama last fall. She got a call from the police there, saying that her husband had been mugged and was in the hospital. She rushed down there, making the drive in only 2 hours. She found her pitiful husband, face swollen big as a beach ball and bandaged. He looked a mess. “Thank God they only took your wallet,” she’d told him on the way home. “You can replace that. Your life, it can’t be replaced. God curse the man that mugged you.”

Booker had been quiet about the incident. He hadn’t filed charges, and the police never found the perpertrators. “I’m never going to Alabama again. Good riddance to the whole thing.” he said when Alberta asked about it.

Alberta pulled a thin strip that said “Pull here” and the package opened easily. Booker’s old wallet fell out, onto the floor.

“Goodness, the police finally found that wallet.” She leaned down and picked it up from the floor. “Guess he’ll be happy about that.”

Alberta flipped open the wallet and glanced at the contents. Several credit cards were there along with a few white business cards. A picture of the two of them, taken before his wallet was stolen, was also there. Booker’s driver’s license was wedged behind the credit cards..

“Wonder why the police mail this to me?” Alberta said. She peered down into the envelope from which the wallet fell. There was something else inside.

She stuck her hand inside and pulled out neatly folded pages. They were yellow and lined. The top edges of them were scraggly, like the sheets had been ripped from a pad of some sort.

Alberta opened the paper, to see what it was. She could easily fold it back up and give it back to Booker. He would never know she’d read his mail..

She flattened the papers on her lap, and saw that it was a letter of some sort. She raised the bifocals that were hanging around her neck on a thin gold chain to her eyes and began to read.

Ma’am,

I am returning your husband’s wallet to you. I want to apologize for stealing it. I am returning it, but it has no money in it. I kept the 1280 dollars that was there. I want to apologize for keeping the money. I am sorry, but I needed it. And after what your husband put me through, I deserved that money.

(to be continued)

Good Morning, People

Good morning.

Don't look at me like that.

Good Morning, people.

Don't sit there frowning up at the screen. You know who I am.

I'm Oscar-Tyrone.

The Original Oldcat.

(Yes, it sounds quite stupid... but you know how LadyLee is about that Originals mess. Let's just humor that Oldgirl).

Look, LadyLee is not here. I don't know where she is. She left and hasn't come back. But she junked up the the living room, scattering clothes and stuff everywhere. I have noticed over my 11 years of experience with her, that she leaves for a few days, and then she is back. Just like that.

So I am not worried.

For now, that silly cat Kramer and I will harass that girl who lives upstairs, her sister Kentucky.

(We like her better than LadyLee anyway).

LadyLee has had a story laying on the floor, and I've been reading it. (Yes, I can read. Probably better than you.)

The title of it is "Ma'am".

Thought I would grab a computer and put it up, so you all will have something to read during the week.

This is a little story she wrote over the Christmas holidays. Of course, she is not going to do anything with it. (LadyLee's quite lazy).

It is the story of a middle aged housewife who gets a very disturbing letter in the mail ... a letter that would make most people raise a lot of hell.

Now, I'm a cat. I'm not even human. But I do believe such a letter in the mail would even cause me to hiss and scratch a sucker all the way down to the white meat.

So, this week is Story Week.

Parts I-V of "Ma'am" will be posted all the way up until Saturday. (Hope that scheduled post thing works out right.)

...Don't tell the Oldgirl know I put this up. We'll just blame silly Kramer.

If you do tell her it was me, I'm going to scratch your eyes out.

You don't think I will?

Try me and see what happens.

Happy Birthday to ME!!!!

Man, I usually do a long drawn out introspection post for my birthday... it's a good 9 to 10 pages at least.

Not today!

*Blog fam yells "Thank the Lawd!!"*

Hush up!

My brain is a bit fried.

I'm heading out the door, to catch a plane to N'awlins. Gonna hook up with some friends down there and then catch my ship later on in the day!

Still packing and unpacking right now...

So this will be the SHORTEST birthday post EVER.

Year 38 was great...

Year 39 will be mo' betta, mo' betta, mo' betta!!!

Believe that!!!

Ya'll have a great weekend... on purpose.

ANOTHER Pleasant Surprise!!!

I was walking around the Target store on Camp Creek, scavenging around picking out travel-sized toiletries for my trip, when some random chick called my cell phone saying she had a delivery...

"Uh, I ain't at home."

"Well, how far are you from home?"

"20-30 minutes."

"Uh, okay."

We talked a bit longer. I wasn't going home. OH WELL.

"I'll just have to pick it up," I said.

She said her store was located at Camp Creek. I told her I was at Camp Creek. So she dropped the delivery back at her home base for me to pick up later.

I dropped by Edible Arrangements after I finished my shopping at Target...

Lo and behold, I picked up THIS!!

I hollered "That's for me???"

The smiling brother at the cash register yelled "Yes it is!!"

What in the WORLD!!!??

I took it out to the car and read the attached card:

"You only have 2 days to eat this... and maybe less than that before Oscar Tyrone or Kramer snatch it. This does not come close to all that you have given to me over the years, but I wanted to wish you a VERY Happy Birthday!!!

**fist bump**

"The LBEEZY"

THANKS LBEEEEEEZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My baby blog sista know her big blog sista luv some fruit!!!! I started shaking and scratching like a crackhead when I saw all that doggone fruit!!!

*LadyLee smiles like Miss Celie smile*

I just wanted to bury my head in it and chomp away! I destroyed those chocolate covered strawberries real quick. OH MY!!

I would have you know that my sister Kentucky is around here hatin'... She was a little perturbed that I'd dismantled all of the fruit (that I hadn't eaten), and placed it in a storage container... She'd never seen an edible arrangement live and in person.

She'll be alright. That's what she get for being slow to get her tail in the house.

The cats didn't know WHAT to think. They were especially perplexed by the attached aluminum birthday ballon. It is traveling around the room, at their eye level, and uh... let's just say, they are a bit nervous.

And now I got the "itis" from eating too much fruit.

And it is a weird type of "itis", worse than eating too much ribs and chittlins!

But it's all good!!! I think I will sleep it off.

Then wake up in the morning, and eat MORE fruit (and contract more "itis")

Thanks again, LBeezy!!!!:)

The Wrath of Darth Sista

I am off today...

And I will be off until February 17th.

Management is not happy about this.

But I currently have a TON of vacation time.

An Oldgirl likes to take OFF for her birthday. In this case, I head out on a cruise on my birthday. So let's just say, I need a little more time.

Management clench and gnash their teeth over this phenomena...

So, I imagine my good supervisor, The Darth Sista, pondering my impending vacation as she looked through her closet for shoes to match her snazzy outfit.

"LadyLee is taking off today. I have to be SURE to give her a very hard time. I need some special shoes just to help me harass her."

And she found those special shoes...

After yesterday, I am convinced they were "I'm gonna kick LadyLee's ASS" boots!!!

(I am SHOCKED that she posed for these pictures.)


And that is allllllll she did yesterday: harass poor lil' me. Several times yesterday, I heard the unmistakable "click-click-click-click-click" of her special boots on the floor as she prowled through the halls...

...looking for me.

I didn't notice them at first, as I stay the heck out of her way with a vengeance, but we had a looooong team meeting yesterday afternoon, and I was sitting up against the wall, perpendicular to her. I pondered those boots something terrible...

"Those boots are HOT! Got the lil' S&M buckle on the side!"

"Dang, she must be going straight to the club after work!"

"Shoot man... she must be the feature attraction at the strip club tonight. She's gonna work those boots while working the dayum pole!"

"Them some HOT boots right there!!"

She asked me the status of my instrumentation. My brain was frozen. *Crickets abound*

She knows me pretty well... I had that "I don't care, Darth Sista, I'm going on vacation!" look in my eyes.

Oh, she was really hot then.

Harrassed me even more.

She even walked over to my desk to make SURE I was working.

I let her have her Micromanagement Queen fun. Didn't matter. I am off until the 17th.

She called to see if I would be around for a couple of days, sort of thinking she could send some work home via our group SuperHero Hen-Dog, who lives down the street from me.

I would NOT give her a straight answer on that.

I said "Uh, you gonna have to catch me at Wal-Mart or a stop light, man!"

She really was hot behind that.

And uh, Hen-Dog... I know him. He ain't knocking on my door with paperwork!

LOL!!

But I got her back. I called her on her cell phone a good hour after she'd left work. I could hear her infant whining in the background as I asked questions.

I hung up, called her again with more questions.

I snickered. I told my coworker Lieutennant Meek-Meek, who was standing next to me, "I oughta call that broad again."

LOL! No, I left her alone. Didn't want to get cussed out. None of that.

But it is good to be off...

And Darth Sista can safely put her "Ass kicking boots" away.



(Or, maybe she needs them for the strip club after all!)

Semi-Wordless Wednesday: Thanks Serenity 3-0!!!

Walked around the corner, and these were in my cubicle!!



Thanks baby blog sista, Original Oldgirl Serenity30!!!!

A Chicken Tale

Chicken is good.

I like it cooked in a variety of ways, but I really like it baked or stewed.

This curry chicken from Cynthia Nelson's Taste of Home blog looks quite scrumptious:




Throw that on a plate with some rice and beans and it is ON!

Now, baked or stewed chicken is great.

But ain't nothing like fried chicken!!

This batch of "chicken in de ruff" from that same Taste Like Home blog looks mighty tasty!!

Even good ol' Indian street food like chicken-on-a-stick looks good, like these tasty Tandoori pops, from the foodie blog Hooked on Heat...

Goodness!

(I posted those pictures for That Original Oldgirl Chele. She sho nuff loves herself some good food porn. Gotcha, didn't I, Oldgirl!? LOL).

Well, that was the one place I messed up during our fast: I had some fried chicken.

Yo, it wasn't like I meant to.

Fooling with my lil' sister Kentucky is what did me in.

It's all Kentucky's fault!!

And here's what happened:

Well, the night I went to visit my father, on January 12th I believe, I was having isshas. Real crazy isshas for a couple of days.

I was craving some good fried chicken.

I don't know why. I only eat fried chicken only once or twice per month. I just didn't get it!

And when I went to my father's house, I had to pass a Mrs. Winner's fried chicken restaurant.

I slowed down and leaned over the steering wheel a bit. The big red, yellow and white sign was talking to me...

"Come hither, Oldgirl. Come hither, and get a piece of chicken. You know you want it."

Man, I had to talk to myself. REALLY talk to myself.

And keep on driving.

On my way home from my father's house, I had to pass the same restaurant. But I paid it no attention because I was deeply pondering this meeting with my father. Passed right by the place without so much as a second look.

But I made it home, parked in the garage and went in the house and I saw this...

My permanent houseguest, Kramer William.

My attentions were focused on him for the rest of the week. Everytime I saw him, I'd say:

Hey, there little boy Kramer!

Look at that lil' leg of yours!

Bet I can salt and pepper up that leg!

Shake a lil' flour on that leg!

Drop it in some Hot Grease!

Hawt Grease!

Fry it up, real crispy like.

Good eatin'! Gooooood eatin'!


Poor Kramer.

He already doesn't get much attention, and is rather bored with us all, even his boy Oscar-Tyrone.

Normally, he'll come up to me, and I would rub him. But I think he saw that look in my eye. He'd scramble away, just out of my reach.

(Incidently, the other cat Oscar Tyrone, was no where to be found.)

I was borderline delirious. Yes I was.

This went on for a few days. Eventually I was alright. There would be no meat until February. Just accepted it, and kept it moving.

That was until I opened the fridge early on the following Sunday morn to retrieve some bottled water. There was a strange Wal-mart bag in there. I felt it with my hand.

It felt like a pack of chicken.

I smiled like Miss Celie smiled.

I walked into the living room and called upstairs to my sister.

"Kentucky!!!!!"

She, in her usually calm manner, opened her bedroom door and looked out over the banister. "Yes, Lisa?"

"You bought some chicken?"

"Uh, yeah."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I wanted to fry it. But I was waiting for you to leave so I could and not mess you up. But you won't leave."

"And I ain't leaving," I quickly said. "Fry it up, because I want a piece."

"B-, But," she stuttered. "I don't wanna mess you up, Lisa. And the grease from the take-out chicken places messes my stomach up. I can only fry it myself, but you won't leave."

"Whatever!" I yelled. "Fry it up, before I get around here and fry up Kramer!"

*Kentucky peers over banister down at LadyLee, her eyebrows raised in pure fright.*

She could've said no, but Kentucky is the type that wants no problems. So, she fried up some chicken that night. Doggonit, it was GOOD. I think I had 4 chicken wings.

But after it was all said it done, I was laying in the bed later that evening, thinking quietly to myself...

"I could've had a V-8."

Didn't have chicken again until the Superbowl. Still had that feeling that a V-8 would have been more enjoyable.

Me and Kentucky are still laughing about that.

I'm sure Kramer is breathing a sigh of relief.

But I still feel like, there is nothing in the world like GOOD fried chicken.

Even if I don't really care for it like I use to.

LOL

Monday Afta-noon Ramblings...

Good Afta-noon!!

Howdy Do?

(That means... How thangs hanging today?)

I am fine.

The current temperature in the ATL is 40 degrees. And it's suppose to rain today. There is nothing worse than it rain AND being cold. UGH!!

I still haven't decided whether to buy a coat or not. By the time I decide, it will be HOT outside. LOL.

My weekend. It was all over the place. I've been running around, trying to get ready for this cruise. I absolutely HATE shopping. Hated-ed it. So, that was the gist of my Saturday. Heck, I didn't even buy anything, just did a lot of perusing. But I'll be shopping every night this week. I have a slew of Kmart, Wal-Mart, and Target gift cards, so I will be hitting those places up this week for little dinky stuff.

I also went to another one of Green-Eyed Bandit's son basketball game. They uh, got a little more rowdy this time. And her son's team lost. I suppose I may be a jinx. Hmmm....

Now on Sunday, I did make one purchase... a new camera.



Very simple and very cheap. And I even bought a 4 G film card for 12 bucks. That means I will be able to take 24,3971,389 pictures while on this cruise. LOL!!!
I watched the Super Bowl last night.

Go Steelers!!!

That was a GOOD game!

The church fast is over. We had the nerve to have fried chicken, ribs, honey barbeque chicken, fries, rolls...

My body is like... "Nooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!"

Ugh. Let me tell you... I have no taste for meat anymore. And I didn't even care to try something sweet. THE HORROR.

As Opinionated Diva says... "I ain't able!!!!!"

My body is giving me the *side-eye* and the *gas face*.

Alas, I am back to eating my niiiiiice fresh fruit and salad and soy milk. I will probably stay this way until my birthday... or beyond.

One of my goals over the next million years is to go vegetarian. And if I want some meat here and there, then I will eat it. My goal it to rarely eat meat. But I have completely lost the taste for it, and anything sickly sweet. So, uh, we will see where this goes.

My work week is only 3 days long. This makes me feel more smurfy than usual.

That also makes it a GOOD week automatically.

The rest of ya'll, especially ya'll that work the full 5 days...

(Ha! Ha! I laugheth at YOU!)

Ya'll make especially sure to have a good week... on purpose.