Happy Easter 2018

Happy Easter to you!

I have been gone for a minute. I have been super busy.

But 'tis a holiday, and I must repost one of my favorite Easter stories. The subject is my one of my favorite blog characters Chayse. This story was first posted in 2006, which means that she was all of 2 or 3 years old. So that makes her a teenager now.

But I will forever have her first Easter egg hunt on record.

And along with pondering the reason for the season, every Easter I love to read it, and remember.

Enjoy!


AN EASTER STORY.

So, last year, April 2006 (was Easter in April?), I didn't have any plans. I usually don't go to church on Holidays, because er'body and there mamas are up in that place. So I celebrate at home.

But last Easter I didn't have plans either, until Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, my coworker and bootleg "Work-for-Free" manuscript editor, quietly eased up behind me in my cubicle and threw an Ebony Magazine on my desk. The magazine was open to a recipe for Sweet Potato Cheesecake.

"Lee... make this," she ordered, pointing to the recipe.

*LadyLee has COMPLETE conniption fit*

"Dang, Man! Dang Man! Back up off me! Back up off me!! I ain't makin' jack! Leave me alone!!!!"

She rolled her eyes in the usual manner and glided away.

Negroes LOVE to run up on me about a recipe.  They know that I'm going to GO OFF... but I will probably end up doing it, especially if it is interesting.

Anyway, after I finished tripping out, and Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia had long gone, I picked up the magazine and perused the recipe. It looked easy enough. So I yelled over the cubicles for her to "Come here!". I told her that I would make the sweet potato cheesecake, but the only stipulation was that I wanted a piece of it. She was cool with that. She was going to come over for Easter and get it. I decided that I might as well make a day out of it and throw some meat on the grill, etc.

We had a plan...

However...

As she was walking away from my cubicle area, she yelled over her shoulder...

"And make my baby some Easter Eggs!"

This caused another small temper tantrum. I think I may have even swiped a few papers from my desk and turned a quite a few things over. Yep, pissed me off. (I have anger management isshas, you see.)

But I agreed to do it, even though I hadn't dipped hard-boiled eggs into colored water since my brother was a child.

This whole thing about the baby...

Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia has been on me to do a post on her baby Chayse. Chayse is 3 years old now, and was 2 at the time of the events in this post...

But what is a trip is tha my coworker and personal chauffeurThe Infamous Hen-Dog is Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia's "baby Daddy".


I remember when Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, who I didn't know very well, and who is also an UNUSUALLY quiet AND mean person (way moreso than myself), said she was pregnant. She got bigger and bigger and bigger.

I never wondered who the baby's father was.  I don't get caught up in work politics.  They better get my paycheck together and keep it moving.  That's really all I care about, you see.

One of my coworkers and Hen-Dog made me sit down in a chair one sunny day, and they told me that... Hen-Dog was Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia baby's daddy. Of course, I thought it was a joke. It took me a few hours to believe them.  I believed it more when I saw Hen running around to doctors appointments, etc...
They were creeping around.  And what's funny, I ran into them at a Sprint store one day, and didn't even put 2 and 2 together.  Just talked to them for a minute, and kept it moving. (Yes, I am dense).
All I know... Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, I salute you, gal! You are one stealth undercover broad!!!  That's all I gots to say about THAT!! LOL!!

Anyway, you have the history of the baby...

And for that Easter, I was to make some Easter Eggs for the baby. That was cool.
Easter 2006 arrives. I'd barbecued it up, man! We had chicken wings and steak!


And I'd made that doggone Sweet Potato Cheesecake.

It looks good, don't it? And it WAS good! Check out the side view:

I was like... you know, this recipe wasn't all that bad. (I had to do the bootleg, and throw some chopped pecans on top of it. Recipe didn't call for that!) Took me about an hour to prep everything. I was thinking... "I can make this for family get-togethers, book club functions..."

(Sidenote: Haven't made that cheesecake since then. Don't even know where the recipe is. I still have my springform pan, though!)

Moving right along.

I made the easter eggs. That was weird, because like I said, I haven't made them in awhile. I managed to crank out a dozen colorful eggs... I even wrote Chayse's name on them with that funky wax crayon that's included in the Paas kit.

Well, Hen-Dog, Ol Mean Ass Cynthia, and Chayse came over. We had dinner -chicken, steak, string beans, salad, baked potatoes, and sweet tea- and then decided to do an Easter egg hunt for Chayse out in my front yard.

"Hen-Dog, go hide the eggs," I said.

"I'm not hiding eggs. Chayse don't care. She don't know what to do. She's too young to remember something like that."

Now, both me and Cynthia looked at Hen like he'd been smoking crack or something.  We argued back and forth about this. Hen was determined not to hide eggs. He was being a busta.

So I decided to hide the eggs myself.

"Cynthia... where is Chayse's Easter basket?"

Cynthia gave me a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Uh, I didn't bring it."

Meanwhile, Chayse is looking at all of us. She is eager to get things started.

"Cynthia, how you not gonna have a doggone Easter basket for her? What is wrong with you?"

Cynthia shrugged. "She has some baskets at home. I just forgot to bring one!"

Man, I wanted to pimp slap the both of them. They better be GLAD I didn't call DFACS.

I looked around my kitchen for something that Chayse could use to hold the eggs that she would find on her easter egg hunt. All I could came up with was an aluminum pan. Chayse didn't care. She grabbed it out of my hand, and was ready to go.

Meanwhile, Hen was still whining. "I don't know why ya'll wanna hide eggs for her. She too young to remember anything."

"Shut up, Hen!"

I went outside and hid the eggs. I didn't hide them, but laid them out in plain view around the porch and in potted plant that was next to the front door.

Hen-Dog was still whining.

We ignored him. Chayse went outside and started looking around.

Poor thing... she didn't have a colorful easter basket. Only a lone aluminum pan.


But she didn't seem to care. She was working it out!

She was VERY excited about her eggs!!! Very excited!
"Miss LadyLee!! Miss LadyLee!!"

I have eggs!!Look at my eggs! I HAVE EGGS!!" she screeched with waaaay too much glee.

Of course this all shocked the Infamous Hen-Dog. He stood in my doorway, and watched the 5 minute easter egg hunt. He stopped his whining. He didn't realize that Chayse would be so excited.
Gee, I'm sure that he felt pretty stupid right about then. Really though.

Dude even had the nerve to say... "Hey LadyLee, let me hold some of them eggs so I can hide some for her tomorrow."

I went off. "I ain't giving you NOTHING, man. You shoulda got out here and hid that baby's eggs!!!"

We eventually went back into the house. Chayse was still excited. She walked around my kitchen holding that pan of eggs like it was a pot of gold, still screaming "I have eggs!"





She even counted them for her Daddy.


"1, 2, 3, 4, 18, 13".

(Yeah, she still had to work on her counting. It's been a year, and she is much better now.)

Well we had cheesecake, and they all headed back down the street to Hen's house.
Not bad for an Easter, hunh!! (Except for the aluminum pan.)

So that is my Easter Story... A bit away from the norm, but hope you enjoyed it...

And I hope you had a HAPPY EASTER:) !!!

Adventures with Chayse...

Man... Shame on me... almost forgot to do a post on a Friday.

The HORROR!

Gotta do a post on Friday! That's the best day of the week! Because it means the weekend is NEAR! I can almost touched-ed it!

*cartwheels*

It is ARSE HAWT in the ATL.

That is all. No need to elaborate or anything. Just ARSE HAWT.

I thought I would share some pictures with you!

A couple of Saturdays ago, I had a special guest over in the morning! Her Mama had to work, so she hung out with me!

My favorite LadyLee Mascot Chayse!



You know Chayse if you have read here over the years. If not, she's the one holding up the cat in the margin of this blog.

Uh yeah... She is good for blog fodder.

She looks happy enough, taking that I don't have children and that I ain't the most entertaining Oldgirl in the world. We sat and watched a few cartoons. (Cartoons have changed drastically! I was a bit horrified at what I was watching on Nickelodeon. Give me the smurfs!)

She got a little bored, so I let her go outside and sweep the porch and the sidewalk.

(Should've uh... encouraged her to sweep out my driveway).

She seemed happy enough. And since she was so happy, I let her sweep the porch off too.



She even helped me put together the trimmer.

(Well as much as we could put it together. I needed an allen wrench. Picked that up later!)

If she was there much longer, I was going to put her to work staining the front porch!

But she was only with me for a couple hours.

I had to work on staining it myself.

I don't like it, so I am still working on it. Sigh. I need a bucket of shellack or something!

Yes if your child comes to MY house, he or she will be doing some handyman type chores!

Chayse has worked in the garden, washed collard greens, made cornbread and everything else, honey!!!

Ain't nothing like a hard working child!

And with that, you all have a great weekend! I'll be cutting grass and trimming hedges and painting my porch rails! OH JOY!!

(Where is Chayse when I need her!)

A Special Visitor: The King of Uno

My workgroup Super Hero, The Infamous Hen-Dog has a baby boy name Ja...

The last time I saw Ja was a few years ago. He was strutting through my door wanting to play Uno...

He beat our tails, even did his little victory dance to the Ol' School Music I was kicking at the time.

Man... while he was doing all that dancing, I was trying to cheat. My baby bro Milk and Cookies was concentrating hard while I was trying to slip a Draw 4 his way. HUMPH...

Ja's always been such a great kid. When he was in town on summer or spring break, I would bake him a big pan of roasted chicken. (He REALLY loved my chicken, lol).

Ja is a big boy now... 17 years old. He was in town this week, and I was talking to him on facebook. (Do you have young peoples as your Facebook friends. I tell you, it is HARD to follow their jargon. I must be getting old). They had been hanging out and at midnight, he wrote:

"I'm still up, LadyLee!"

"Uh no, boy. I am in the bed. I am old. I will holla tomorrow," I said.

So his Daddy brought him over on Saturday morning.

"Hey Miss LadyLee," he said in a deep baritone.

I was a little distraught. I mean, his voice was all deep.

"You sound like somebody's Daddy," I wailed. "And you're taller than me!!"

LOL!!

It was good to see him. My oh my, they do grow up fast!

He's as tall as his Daddy now.

Yesterday Snake said "Did you see Ja? Girl, that boy opened the door, and I almost hollered, because I thought it was Hen. I was like "Oh no Hen, these streets got you too? You smoking the rocks now???"

Oh... that was funny. I had to tell him the Hen is bodybuilding now. No smoking of the rocks allowed, lol.

And as you can see, Hen is so proud of his baby boy. LOL

Ja had the nerve to holler "You still got some UNO cards!?"

*LadyLee gives Ja the HARD side-eye*

No fella. And if I did have some, I wouldn't tell you. LOL

It was good to see you, Ja.

You're really growing up to be a fine young man!

Snake Watch

So...

I was getting ready for my Triple F Possee meeting on Sunday (getting my budget book together, packing up cookies for the ladies, etc.) and all of a sudden my doorbell rang.

Now it rang one time. Not 50 TIMES. (The locals do know they like to LEAN on a doorbell.)

I peaked through the blinds. It was a man dressed up, holding a Bible.

"Jehovahs Witnesses," I thought. I wondered why they were out on a Sunday. I opened the door.

Wasn't the witness... It was Snake.



Hadn't seen the House of LadyLee Poet Laureate in a LONG time. He use to write the popular "Snake Bites" series here on my blog.

Word in the hood was that he was caught a 5 year bid for burgalary.

And you know me... that's what I asked about.

And he told me this loooooooong story starting with, "See what had happened was..."

(You know how we do.)

This from the man who was ALWAYS lecturing us: "Watch who you dealing with, work hard, stay out of mess, blah, blah, blah!"

Yeah he has taught me that lesson well. You know what I say:

Our lives preach the best and worst of sermons.

I hope he stays clean. Hard to do when your environment be calling you...

But I thought he looked nice in his suit, just coming from Church. And he was hopeful for a better future.

And I hope his future is bright.

Good Luck to our Workgroup Super Hero!

When we last saw our workgroup Super Hero the Infamous Hendog, he was peering out over the window over the city, pondering the corruption and crime... and how he'd wipe it out.

(Or maybe he wasn't pondering that at all. Maybe he was thinking about the analyses we had to carry out that day in the lab!)

The special haircuts- they were needed to mesmerize and hypnotize the evil guys (in our case, special management).

And in the mean time, he's provided some good eye candy for the ladies here on the blog...

He lives down the street from me, and that picture was taken on his front porch, some 5 years ago.

"Hen," I said. "You don't have a six-pack! That's a half a pack, lol!"

He hollered something about water weight, which UPSET us ladies in the lab something terrible. (A man should not be hollering about bloat and water weight!)

Well our SuperHero has been working out for competitions...

*LadyLee opens a roll of quarters and bounces them off Hen's booty*

(This pic is for the Deltas, lol).

Well, the National championships are tomorrow... Hen won third place in his weight class last year!

Going for #1 this year!

He says he's going to use this for his pose music...

I hope he was kidding... That is toooo cheesy. I told him, he better not. I'll be out in the audience hollering "Boooo!!" And I'll be throwing eggs at the stage, lol...

He's using this rap as his pose music.



*LadyLee kicking the hard cabbage patch dance*

Good choice, man! Good choice!

So Hen, good luck to you. I know you will do well. You know I LOVE when us chemists have our side-gigs and you've been working hard on your own...

So make it happen boy!

Make us proud! Do this one for the workgroup! (Yell out "PESTICIDES!!" when you do your signature moves! LOL!!!

Make us proud!!!

Good luck! Win big!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Breaking My Rules

I broke one of my many rules last Saturday...

And I usually get terribly upset with myself for breaking my rules.

But this particular one, I broke:

"I DO NOT ATTEND CHILDREN'S ATHLETIC EVENTS!"

People know this, and they have to hear me talk much trash when they ask me about it.

So...

Last week, my Gang Leader The Green-Eyed Bandit, the Leader of my Triple F Posse (Financial Freedom Fighters), sent me an email:

"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? Ced has a basketball game at 2:30 and wanted to know if you wanted to go"

**crickets**

Now, Green-Eyed Bandit knows I don't fool with childrens running around calling themselves playing sports. I have spent TOO many weekends carting my brother Milk and Cookies to his little league football games. I can still remember sitting on very COLD bleachers, my teeth chattering, watching that boy running around trying to play football.

HUMPH.

Never again. Never ever ever!!!

I sent her a polite email, telling her that I will attend her boy's basketball game when he plays for the Atlanta Hawks.

(I was sure to request free front row tickets... Nothing less will do for this Oldgirl).

She said she understood. But her boy Ced is the star of the team. It would be the first game of the year, and he was a starter.

And since we were having a Triple F Posse meeting that morning, she thought she would recruit some cheerleaders.

(I could've sworn I heard the sad violin music, or that sad Law and Order music playing within that email.)

So, I decided to throw caution to the wind... and break my rules.

(Oh, that Green Eyed Bandit know she know how to work that psychology.)

So, I go to the meeting, and I am all happy and hyped up, because all the ladies are making such wonderful strides in financial matters...

Afterwards, I start talking much trash to Ced.

He's a tall skinny 12 year old brutha, very laid back. I started pushing and shoving him around. He's very polite, and dealt with my harrasments well enough.

"Boy, I wanna see you score 100 points!"

"That's not allowed, Miss LadyLee."

He goes on to break down the rules to me.

I really didn't care about that. I wanted to talk trash, see some ol' Michael Jordan type action.

"Boy, I want to see some reverse back flip 360 degree flips in the air." I shove him hard again, hit him upside the head.

"That's not allowed, Miss LadyLee."

He goes on to recite more official rules of his league.

What is with this kid? No one is this dayum polite.

Well, I follow them out to the game. I start having flashbacks of being cold and sitting on uncomfortable bleachers. But the place was warm, the bleachers were good. That was a good thang!!

Then, the Green-Eyed Bandit morphed into something strange: a trash talking parent.

She snatched off her jacket, and tied it around her waist. Her eyes took on this eery steely look.

"This is my NBA," she spat as she stood in the bleachers. She placed her hands on her hips. "This is all I got."

*LadyLee scooting down the bleachers a little so as not to be a casualty of Green-Eyed Bandit's wrath*

Ced is #42 on the Phoenix Suns team. He's the tallest kid on the team, and I was still expecting him to do some behind the back slam dunks.

Now, this was actually a pretty good action packed game. And it was only an hour long. And these shorties were playing like they were playing for some money or something.

And the parents were yelling something awful. Green-Eyed Bandit was loudest of them all.


"Ref! Can I get some foul calls!?"

"This ain't football, Ref!"

"Play some D! Get on him!"

Ced was part of some really bad collision and left the game with a nosebleed. Green-Eyed Bandit went to check on her boy, but came back a few minutes later.

"Is he alright?" I asked.

"He's alright. I told him to man up and get back in the game."

*LadyLee raises an eyebrow. Green Eyed Bandit commences to hollering hard*

Green-eyed Bandit did more screaming, more hollering. She did a lot of walking back and forth in front of the bleachers. I'm suprised she wasn't all hoarse.

Thank goodness she didn't start cussing and throwing stuff around. I would've had to tip-toe outta there!
Ced's team won 28-13. Now that's a good opening day win.

And that was a good game. I hated that it was over in an hour.

(Imagine that!)

So Ced and Green-Eyed Bandit... I may make another appearance or two this season.

I kinda like breaking my rules.

And Ced... You're going to have to attempt at least one dunk for the Oldgirl. Really!

Ya'll have a great weekend!

Ain't nothing like a Man that can CROCHET!

I posted some time ago about my adoration for men who can cook.

Today, I wanted to post about my adoration for men who can crochet.

You may ask "LadyLee, is there such a thang as a man who can crochet?"

I read a story a few years ago about some maximum security prison out in California that had a waiting list for a knitting class. The inmates made blankets for sick babies at local hospitals.

That is nice!

That jail thing bothers me a bit though. I don't know about all that.

Well, I suppose that there are men out there that like to crochet. But I don't happen to know any.

Well, let me scratch that. I know one: My baby brother, Kari aka Milk and Cookies.

But he don't count. THAT'S MY BROTHER.

And I taught him how to crochet. And I had to trick his little tail into learning.

I think when he was about 14 or 15 I made him start rolling balls of yarn for me. It's best to get this out of the way so I wouldn't run into any problems with tangling and weak spots. He rolled yarn, and he would do a good job. I asked him if he wanted to learn how to crochet. He scrunched up his face and said no.

"It's real easy, boy," I said.
"No, Lee. That's for girls!"

So, my tactics had to change.

"You know, Kari, if you crochet a blanket for a girl, she'll do anything!"
Kari peers at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I mean, if you make something for her that takes time and effort... Us women, we LOVE that. "
"For real?" he yelled.
I nodded real slow.

That boy grabbed a crochet needle FAST. And I taught him to crochet.

Now, the problem with him... he had no sense of style or color matching. He'd hijack a ball of yarn from me, then use it up, and then come get more.

"Shawty, lemme get a ball of yarn."

I'd look at what he was working on.

"You need more blue, and I don't have that."
"Let me hold that pink, Shawty."
"It don't match. And it's a different grade of yarn."
"Stop tripping, girl! Just let me hold that."

So, he managed to make a blanket, but it was a MONSTROSITY. It contained every color known to man. It was the ugliest thing I'd ever seen in my life. I'd cringed everytime he brought it around, and he would not listen to reason. So I let him do what he wanted to do.

He gave it to one of his little lady friends. She was smitten with him after that. I remember him telling me, his eyes wide "Lee, you were right! Women love that type of stuff. That blanket was horrible, but she liked the fact that I made it with my hands. She LOVES that blanket. Talks about it to all her friends."

Someday, he will figure out that I know what I'm talking about. LOL!!

Now that's the only dude I know who can crochet. But like I said, that's my bro, and he don't count. And I haven't seen him pick up a crochet needle since then...

But then, in steps my Eye Candy, my neighbor Tiny...

Dude loves to flex his muscles... And I ain't mad about that! (I, like any other warm-blooded female, loves some muscles, lol!)

But he'd have to hear me talk that trash:

"Boy, if you were Hershey bar dark, was my age, and you made as much money as I make? Boy, I'd have to run up on YOU!!"

LOL!!!!

So... He calls me one day.

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon. I was taking a nice afternoon nap. No, let me rephrase that. I was in the bed, under the down comforter, laid out on the down pillows, sleeping HARD.

My cell phone rings. It is near my head, so by reflex, I answer it.

It is Tiny.

"Lee, what you up to?"

I cringe. He knows I don't open my door. So what he'd do is call, guage if I'm in the house, then let me know that he's on my front porch and that I need to open the front door. HUMPH."I'm snoozing."

"I got a question for you," he said. "Can you make a spread for my bed?"

I frowned. "Uh, how big?" I asked.
"For a king size bed. A California king."

*Silence*

I start calculating things in my head. Something like that would take at LEAST 250 hours.
I snicker.

"Man, that would take a good 250 hours."
"So. You think you can hook that up?"

*DEAFENING silence*

If I would've been fully alert, I would've opened up my Book of Cuss and read him a few verses!

Listen. I'm not making anything THAT big for NOBODY. If ya'll EVER hear me making something that big for a dude, you KNOW that there is some uh, toe-curling activities going on.

No, there's quite a bit of toe-breaking, neck-breaking, bone-crushing activity going on. Somebody better come check on me, because you know that I am SPRUNG and outta control!

I have a King size bed, and uh, I'm not even making a spread for my own bed. HUMPH.

"Lee, you not going to answer me?"

I rubbed my eyes, and tried to come up with an explanation, lie, SOMETHING.

"Look here, playa. That'll take to long, and yarn is hard to fine. I won't be able to find all that in the same lot number..."I gave EVERY excuse in the world. Most of it was true. It is difficult to find large batches of yarn that match up.

He yips on and on trying to convince me. I let him talk. Just to get him off the phone, I said "I'll think about it. I'm going back to sleep."

That was last year. And I haven't thought about doing it, nor WILL I think about doing it. NOPE.

So...

He came over one Saturday evening awhile back. I'd made some crab stuffed shrimp, and he went in the kitchen and fixed himself a plate and sat down and ate (Some folks know how to make themselves at home, don't they? HUMPH). I sat on the couch and crocheted. He soon got a case of the "itis" because he collapsed in my lounge chair.

I was a bit perturbed, because I'd been ripping and running all day, and I wanted some peace and quiet. He was talking about something (Man, dude is TALKATIVE. It's like talking to a woman sometimes. You know how we get to talking. LOL).

Then he busts out with....

"Lee, that don't look too hard. You should show me how to do it."

I frowned. "It ain't hard. I ain't in the mood, though. I will show you how to do it some other time."

I was at crunch time and REALLY needed to work hard on what I was working on to finish it up by that next week.

I notice him eyeing what I was working on. I pulled it close to me. "Uh, don't get no strange ideas, bruh. You not touching this! You're not messing this up!"

"But I learn fast. Just show me."

Whatever!!

He whined like crazy. It was quite irritating, to say the least. I looked around for some spare yarn. There was some on the couch. I made him stand behind me and look at what I was doing. I gave him the yarn, and he was right. He picked up on it REAL quick.

*LadyLee raises eyebrow and smiles REAL hard*

That was a bit too much excitement for the Oldgirl, lol.

But like he said, he caught on quick! And was happy about it, too.

Uh, that was earlier this year. I haven't seen that boy pick up a needle and yarn since then.

HUMPH!

Guess he don't want his bedspread. Because he would have to be the one crocheting that! LOL

So on goes my "dreams" of a man who can crochet. Ya'll know, if I ever come across a brother who can get down with the crochet needle, is hershey-bar dark, has NO kids, has great credit, and makes as much money as I do... well, I'ma have to run up on him.

(That's a hot wish list, aint it. LOL!!)

Really though!!

Have a great weekend:)

LadyLee Meets the DJ... So UNBEWEAVABALE, baby!!

Man oh Man oh Man...

I FINALLY had a face-to-face meeting with one of my Blog Mentors. And she will be the third one that I've met. (The others: Queen Tayari and Serenity23)

Ya'll know I'm a straight up tomboy, but I am 1% Diva... and I, as a Diva, have my own personal DJ who takes care of all my Mixtapes, consults with me on music, all of that (Yeah right)...

The homechick I call My Personal DJ... The Bossy Diva herself:

The one and only unbeweavable one:

!!!!THE DJ DIVA!!!!

***!!!!THE DJ DIVA!!!!***
!!!!THE DJ DIVA!!!!

Yes... the DJ DIVA was in the ATL last week...

And you know me... I gots to tell the story... the whole story. You know how longwinded I am, LOL.

I was sitting in my cubicle buried under a load of paperwork, when I got an email...

"Please call me as soon as you can! At this number 123-555-1234"

Uh... you know, I'm kind of weird. When certain peeps send me emails, I spend much time contemplating it. Like... "What does it mean?"

After a few minutes I picked up the phone and called her. She said she was moving to the ATL and would be up in early August to look around, and that she really wanted to hang out with me.

I leaned back in my chair. "That's cool, Shawty. You got my numbers, holla at me."

But inside my mind I was screaming... "WOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!! AAAAAHHHH!!"

I get ta meet THE DJ DIVA!!!

Ya'll just don't understand, man... This is the only chick on the planet who likes music more than me. She know and got every song on the planet in her collection. THIS is who I get in touch with when I have questions about music, or if I need to find a song, or the name of a song...

And then she knows EVERYTHING. I have been known to call her "The Oracle". She's the one we go to when we have a question about current world affairs, world history, biblical history, etc. The chick knows EVERYTHING.

And you know me. I like smart people.

She's the one who organized all of our "batcave" blog activities... You know, where we talk about ish that we all can't talk about on our regular blogs... (We handled MUCH bizness under your watch, DJ.)

DJ is a LEGEND in my eyes.

And I was going to meet her. I, the Original Oldgirl, was going to meet "The Oracle".

So I get a call from her a few days after she arrived.

"Lee, we'll get together at your house. We're out looking for a place to live. I'll call you when I'm on my way."

*crickets*
**LadyLee heart stops midbeat as she falls completely out of cubicle**

I composed myself. I said "Yeah, just give me a call, man."

I sat stunned for a moment. The DJ was coming to my house? Are you serious?? It took a minute to sink in. Then I got my ass up and ran all over the cubicle area yelling...

"I'm gonna meet the DJ DIVA... And she coming to MY house! MY house!"

I was already cleaning up for a meeting I was hosting on Saturday. Let's just say an Oldgirl REALLY went home and cleaned up that day. Almost to the point of getting on my knees and scrubbing the corners out with a toothbrush! LOL

Anyway, she came over. I stood nervously on the front porch with my cellphone. I'd been talking to her, directing her through the back streets of my hood. (There was a Braves baseball game that evening, and since I am near the stadium, most of the easy way to my house is closed off.)

She drove over the hill, parked in the driveway, and who jumps out the car?

Her hubby... The Scribe.

Now, let me back up... back way the hell up... and explain a few thangs...

We have a huge detailed email thread going during the day at times, where me, Serenity23, The DJ Diva, and the LadyBug Mocha discuss much MUCH stuff in HEAVY detail, sometimes to the point where we straight up get into serious FIGHTS over the email (nothing in the world worse than an email brawl), especially over what one of us is doing, etc...

The discussions are heavy, yet cleansing, like a good enema, ya know!?

DJ met Scribe through the internet back in early 2006. We were all looking at her like she had lost her damn mind. We were running over to his Myspace page looking around, all kinds of stuff. My concern was basically making sure DJ checked in on email everyday. When I think of meeting dudes on the internet, I be thinking of some ol' shady ish...

Like that sucka is the serial killing axe-murderer that the police is out looking for.

So let's just say, we were keeping up with the DJ's every move. If we didn't hear from her for a long period of time (say, 2 or 3 days), she got a, uh, friendly courtesy phone call.

Well she started bragging on dude, which really had us scratching our heads. Then Scribe got a blog, and he was bragging on her.

I was like... "Who is this fool?"

I called him "Scribble" on my blog. Another blogger had called him that, and I ran with it. Dude had the NERVE to have an issha with that. "DJ Diva gave me the name Scribe, Blah, blah, blah!!!"

Goodness.

I was through with him after that. Only called him by his gub'ment name after that. And I can't STAND gub'ment names.

Then I started stomping over to his blog, blowing up his comment section, with stuff like...

"Dude, the DJ really likes you. That's cool. But, if you give her trouble, I will shank your ass!"
*Lee slowly pulling shank out of Nike sneaker*

There was much talk of shanktification. MUCH. I think he got the picture. DJ continued to be happy. I really think it was because of all the threats! LOL!

But I wasn't all that worried about DJ. She said, a couple of years ago, in a blog tag she did...

"I know how to use a knife in a fight."

Plus, she likes to fight in the streets... that type of fighting where you chasing down negros in your fur coat and high heels with various weapons. That type of fighting.

[Update: Yeah DJ, Serenity23 was over on the email thread hollering about your Easter fur coat... She found that picture above. Yeah, we bet you fought some GOOD fights in that fur coat. And still kept it looking nice for Easter Sunday service! Now THAT'S what I'm talking about! ROTFLMAO!!!]

In other words... If dude start acting a jack, she knew how to handle her business.

If dude was gonna bring the drama... she was gonna bring it right back at him.

Long story short... they got married on July 30th. DJ threw up a mini-slide show of the wedding!

Anyway, back to the present... Scribe jumped out the passenger side and shook my hand. He seemed mannerable enough. I saw no present need to beat his ass and shove him under the porch.

DJ jumped out of her ride and walked up on the porch. I almost fell prostrate on the front porch in utter worship of her. I thought I was gonna faint!!

It was kinda like that moment when Celie was standing on the front porch, watching out over the field and realized it was Nettie...

I thought we would break out with a little patty-cake and "You and me will never part"

Well, we hit it off. That ain't like me. Anyone who meets me knows that I am EXTREMELY quiet and observant. I have to watch you for awhile, then MAYBE I'll relax. But we have to be around each other a few more times before I lighten up.

But we hit it off like we'd been knowing each other all our lives. They came in, sat down and we chilled. Scribe called another blogger out in Texas and screamed. "Guess where I'm at!? I'm at LadyLee's house!!"

I am such a celebrity. (Yeah right.)

We went out to dinner. Of course you know we hit The Watershed. We had drinks at the bar (I don't drink, so my "drink" was water with a wedge of lemon). Then we had dinner.

J Diva is very particular about her food. She don't like stuff that she have to do too much work with ("I don't like to fight with my food."). She ordered catfish, which was on the bone. Then proceeded to try to eat it with a fork and knife. I laughed hard at that. It was quite a Diva thing to do, cutting food that should be ate with the hands. She did manage to pull it off. Then she got a bone stuck in her throat. She overcame that quickly. She proclaimed once again that she don't fight with her food.

DJ, you're in the south now, which means you gotta fight with your food!!

We headed back to my place. We played some of her Mixtapes in the car. (**LadyLee cheesing REAL hard like Celie!!**). On the way, we stopped by the liquor store, and Scribe went in to get some drinks. I got a chance to talk to DJ alone:

"You know, Scribe is a really nice guy. I'm glad you are happy. You did good."

Ya'll just don't understand. We gave her pure hell over this relationship. Me, of all people, with all my threatening and trash talking. We were all arguing with her, questioning her down, left and right. And this guy turned out to be MAD cool. (Don't think I didn't grill him. Especially when DJ was not around! Dude got questioned to death! LOL.)

That was my way of apologizing, DJ.

All and all, we hit it off well. I am GLAD she is moving to the ATL. She is too.

"I'm glad I like you, Leezie."

What an endorsement! (Because she impresses me as the type to be QUICK to tell you how stupid you are.)

I'm sure we will be hanging out. Well, I don't really hang out. A trip to the library or Wal-Mart is my idea of hanging out. But I know we'll see each other again. She'll be living less than a half hour away.

And you know what else? I was even helpful to her. Through one of my contacts, she was able to rent a PHAT house. I'm hearing that she is in love with the place! So I was glad to be helpful. This was a house-hunting run for her and Scribe, and she was able to leave a couple of days early so she could get home and pack.

So DJ!!!

Glad I got a chance to meet you in person.

You're so freakin' unbeweavable!!!

I was proud of myself. I wasn't all nervous like when I met Serenity23. I actually acted like I had some damn sense!

LOL!!

So DJ! I know you're moving today, so you may not see this post until next week!

You're officially ATLien, hon!! Welcome to my city!

I hope all goes well for you... and let's be sure to hook up again soon:)