Grab a Plate, Part II

My goodness...

I have been sick as a DOG for the past few days.

My throat was on FIRE all day Friday. After working 10 hours, I went to the store, got some items for homemade chicken soup, then went home. I managed to make my soup (didn't eat any that night, though.)

Let's just say, I got in the bed on Friday night and didn't get up until Sunday afternoon. I had my journal writing meeting (can't miss that, mayne!), and came on back home.

And I should be in my bed sleep right about now.

But nope...

I'm a MAVERICK.

Yes. I. am.

I got up and cooked BREAKFAST for all the party people.

I even lit a fire for you, too... Got the house all warm and cozy.

I plan on posting everyday this week. This shouldn't be hard, since I have various posts in queue already.

So you might as well stick around and eat...

Grab a plate and dig in...

We have grits, eggs, sausage, bacon, orange juice...

French toast, waffles, hash brown casserole...

All you can eat! Goodness! Nothing like having a little "itis" first thang in the morning! As always, LadyLee's world famous salmon and biscuits are ready. (Don't think you gonna eat off my good plates. Pick up a paper plate, please.)





If you don't want juice... oh, we have wine (that's for Serenity23 or Serenity30, whatever you calling yourself these days).

For you sedity peeps, who like a cocktail in the morning... we have mimosas...
And if you're like me, you can't take all that heavy food in the morning. I eat stuff like that once a month on average.

I like my fresh fruit in the mornings, and we have PLENTY. Some of you, after all that barbeque at the party last week (Grab a plate, ya'll, Part I), need some fruit to get back regular. LOL!


So, get your plate situated, grab a spot near the fireplace...

... and Stay Tuned

Curse of the Purse, Part II

Click here for Curse of the Purse, PART I

You know...

The sound of crickets is a truly amazing sound, so serene, so peaceful...

. . .especially in the midst of. . .

*silence*

And that's what I heard, when Mike said... "I want to buy that purse for you."



I had to sit up and turn on the light. Just to make sure I was awake. I knew I was awake when my cat Oscar-Tyrone jumped on the bed and did a few stretches.

"Lee, you still there?"
"Uh... yeah."
"Like I said, I want to buy that purse. You seem to like it a lot, and you know, you don't like stuff like that. I thought it would be a good Christmas gift, but I didn't want to buy it, and you already thinking about going out and getting it."

He just kept talking. And talking and talking and talking. It all ran together. He even sounded sincere.

By that time, I had gotten up and turned on some more lights. I made my way to the kitchen.

"Well... I see you all sleepy, and I will let you go. I just saw you get excited about a bag of all things. Just think about it, and let me know. Sleep tight."
"Uh, uh, alright."

Click.

Now, I'm tripping. I was a deer in the headlights after that... Let's just say it took me a good hour to get back to sleep.

I guess you say... "Gee, how nice of him!"

I was saying... "Gee, how can I get this purse, shake Mike's hand, then say "Thank you", and keep it moving?"

'Cause, you know how the "gift-giving" thing goes...

Don't ACT like you don't know the deal.

Now, let me think here. I've been around the block a few times. Heck, I've been around the neighborhood, LOL. I've been in, let's see... six relationships in my lifetime, done did some cheating here and there, been in a couple of fights

I was even married for awhile. Been through a divorce, too.

An Oldgirl has been around the block. An Oldgirl knows the game.

I'm like this: I can talk to a dude for a few minutes and make a decision about some things on the spot. Made them decisions about good Ol' Mike. And that's where that stands. And no buying of material items will change my mind.

And, uh, if it takes buying something to get a chick's attention... I don't know, something's wrong with someone liking someone just because they bought something.

Just how long will that relationship last?

And what is the payback for such?

Maybe I'm just tripping...

So, I decided to talk to some of my fellow chemists at work.

You know, some of the bruthas. Just to see what they thought.

The question was: If you buy a woman a 500 dollar purse, do you expect anything from her?

The answers were:

"Yes, oooooh, oooh, OOH... a little sumthin' sumthin' I suppose. Oh yeah!" That was from my boy By. He cupped his hand to his mouth and his eyes got VERY big. He is one of the more conservative brothers... wasn't expecting that from him!

"Oh hell yes. See, LadyLee, if I was a baller? Oh no, 500 dollars means nothing. But making the money we make? Oh, I definitely expect something. Most definitely." That was from my boy B, over in the other building. And I knew he was serious, because he gave me that none blinking stare, and the slightly furrowed eyebrows.

One of the more crazy brothers ran up on us in the lab, and I am always interested in what he has to say. When asked the question, he frowned hard, like I'd just stolen his money. "ABSOLUTELY, girl!" he yelled, then went on to explain.

Gee, I think he said "absolutely" a gazillion times in his answer.

Then there was Hen-Dog.

And I already know his answer... but we need a proper number of dudes for the blog survey.

"If I bought a chick a 500 purse?" he asked, trying to make sure he heard the question right.

Me and my coworker T peered at him curiously. I was standing there, with the purse close to my bosom, doing my ritualistic rubbing, my eyes glazing over hard. "Yeah, man."

"You gotta give it up... 'cuz I know you got it on you," he said with a big smile. "You got it on you, so you gotta give it up. I KNOW you got in on you, girl."

I thought he was gonna jump up and run around and do backflips. He had that excited look in his eye, and all 32 of his teeth were showing.

*Ladylee kicks the hard eyeroll and goes back to desk*

Just what I thought. Let's me know that I ain't stupid, and I ain't imagining things.

No purse for the Oldgirl... and other things bother me about this.

I don't work off "agendas". I am CONSTANTLY checking my motives. Constantly. Let's just say, I don't use people, I don't try to get over on people, I don't run scams... none of that. Things have a way of coming back on you like a mutha. When you deal with me, you dealing with true-blue.

And I'm learning these days that in all actuality, that makes me a bad person, a mean person, a pessimist, a hard ass, EXTREMELY "unlikable"...

I say to that... WHATEVER.

But still...

I have tried to wrap my mind around how to get hold of that purse for FREE without having to pay for it later... without consequences.

I am thinking of the past, too.

Now, Eli, a boyfriend of mine, bought me a Louis Vuitton drawstring purse just like the one pictured here, back in 1989. I LOVED THAT PURSE. It was a bootleg, of course, bought for 95 dollars down at an Asian store in College Park somewhere. I think we were in the store, and I said I liked it, and lo and behold, he suprised me with it.

I can still see the smile on Eli's face, the twinkle in his eye, after he snatched it out of a Kroger plastic bag and yelled

"Suprise!! Look what I got you!"

Let's just say, the Oldgirl was happy for many days after that! And so was Eli. LOL!!

But that was my boyfriend, and had been for 2 years.

'Scuse my language...but, We was in LOOOOOOVVVVVVVE!

I didn't throw that purse away until some 16 years later, when I moved into my new house. That's how much I liked that purse. Hadn't carried it in years, but it meant something to me. It was the first "expensive" gift a man had ever given me.

At the same time, back in 1995, I borrowed 65 bucks from a boyfriend to cover some bounced checks (shut up... I was a struggling grad student). I had to hear about the damn 65 bucks for months! Everytime we argued, it always came up. "Baby, I gave you 65 dollars back in '95, and I needed that money, but I love you and I gave you my last, blah, blah, BLAAAAAH!"

DANG!!

This is the reason, to this day, I DO NOT borrow money from people.. I would rather drown than ask people for money.

Yes, the Oldgirl is jaded.

Brang it on back to the present time.

*Lee running back from the stroll down memory lane*

I am NOT allowing some dude who ain't my man to buy me ANYTHING. I'm not allowing some man who WANTS to be my man to buy me JACK.

Yo, if I'm gonna pimp myself out? Dude... you need to hand over about 6 mortgage payments.

Yeah. Everybody has there price. What's yours? (Don't answer that, Southern Gal).

We are all smart people here. A purse like that wonderful Carly don't come without tightly attached strings. REAL tight strings.

And I am too old for that ish...

Really though.

I make enough money to buy my own purse.

But I was a bit concerned with myself, to the point where I had to check myself, for trying to figure out how to get that purse and disappear. Granted, I thought about this for only a day or so, but still...

That ain't me.

And besides... Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia, my coworker, just supplied the most wonderful quote:

"You don't need to carry a purse that cost more than the money you got to put in it."

Well, I don't know about all THAT. She was standing over me in my cubicle, kicking the HARD scowl. And it sounds good, nevertheless.

But I keep hearing voices...

"Get that purse, Lee!"

"That's a bad purse, girl!"

"You deserve that purse. Do something nice for yourself!"

Voices haunting me... I can't get away from them! Ugggh.

And to top it off, my coworker T slid a Coach catelogue on my desk... then quietly walked away. And yes, I have perused it. The 700 dollar Bleecker large patchwork leather duffel brought freakin' tears to my eyes. I liked the 18 dollar lipstick, but they didn't have the shade I like. Sigh.

I saw my beloved Carly inthe catelogue... touched it softly with my fingers.

So... I decided what I would do: I plan on being debt free, minus my mortgage, in about 6-8 months.

I will purchase the Coach Carly for myself as a reward for reaching said goal. Shoot... might even get the dayum Bleecker while I'm at it.

I am sure that my Triple F financial freedom gang leader would love to hear that. She has taught me well. My deputy FFF gang leader Tiffany won't be as nice ("That was a bad purse!! Go get the bookleg version") but she will put the game face on for
our gang leader.

That way... I can look at that purse, and instead of thinking...

"Man oh man, I had to twerk it out for this purse right here!"

I can think...

"This purse is a symbol of my reaching a huge personal goal."

Yeah... I like that better.

So for now?

I will dream. I will continue to pester my coworker. She allows me to hold her purse and caress it gently for a few minutes a day. Maybe all the "feenin'" will wear off, and I will become interested in something else.

And Mike...

Holler at me, when you can pay, say, uh... 5 or 6 mortgage payments or hook up the Lexus ES 300 I'm feenin for.

Yeah!!

LOL!!

(Just playing.)

???

The Curse of the Purse

...dedicated to TIFFANY D- my beloved book club sista, deputy "FFF" possee leader, and Quaint Duchess of Stockbridge and loyal LL reader...

I've never thought of myself as a "pocketbook" type of girl.

I like that word "pocketbook" though.

It brings back memories of the seventies, when I was a little Oldgirl. I'd be getting ready to walk out the front screen door, headed for Sunday School and church with my grandmother, and Grandmother would say:

"Don't forget your pocketbook, Lisa!"

I would scurry back in the house and get it.

Couldn't go to church without my pocketbook.

It was usually some patent leather black or white get-up, small with a bright gold clasp, just big enough for some tissue, peppermint candy, and change for the offering plate. And it always had a couple of scuff marks. I imagine that I was clutching it close, much like my book club sista Kim's niece Kyla clutches her blue and black patent leather original.

Kyla is particularly proud of hers. She's not even concerned that her purse does not match her outfit. That grin on her face tells the whole story.

But these days, some thirty years later, I throw my belongings in my laptop carry-on case. I always carry that. It's simply too much to carry a purse and a laptop case.

No need for the all too essential "pocketbook" anymore.

That is why I am a bit confused about my feenin' for a purse, so much so that I blogged about it a couple of weeks ago (see LadyLee Feenin')

My coworker T owns this beloved Coach Signature Carly Large leather purse.


She comes to work in the mornings and sits the Carly on her desk.

It's like the purse be calling me, man! Just calling out to me!

"LadyLee... LadyLee... I am here! Come touch me! Come feel me! LadyLeeeeee! Hurrrrry!"

I casually walk over to her cubicle, just a few feet from my own, and ask the question of the day:

"Can I hold it, T?"

She'd say yes. I'd run my fingers over the butter smooth leather, even prance up and down the cubicle area with it hanging nicely from my shoulder.

"It's soooo soft," I say everyday.

"And you can tell it is," Hen-Dog say. "The cow that was used for it was specifically raised for that purse."

I nod in agreement. My eyes glaze over as I continue to enjoy it's softness. She has had it for only a month, so it still has that "new" smell to it. I give it back to my coworker, because she is giving me that look that says "Gimmee my purse back, Oldgirl!!"

The purse cost 500 bucks. That price- I don't know- It snaps me back to reality real quick.

I feen for this purse for a reason. It is similar to the type of purse I always carry. This is my current purse:

I've carried this style of purse for several years. I paid 30 dollars at Target for that one a couple of months ago, and I am STILL mad about that!

I'd probably stroke out if I plop down 500 bucks for a Coach Carly.

I continued my usual antics of pestering my coworker about that purse. I know I annoy her, but what the hell. Holding that purse for five minutes makes my heart race. It is something out of a dream.

Then I got a call from the Queen of Lurk City.

"Lee, they have your Coach Carly on eBay."

**silence**

Okay, that was waaaay too much to deal with. A impromptu call from Tayari, convo about that special purse... And that was the second time that week that I'd talk to the Queen. That was waaaaay too much.

I'm STILL trying to figure out how her number is saved in my phone, as I am notorious for not saving numbers.

I had to catch myself ("Goodness, no I'm not having a girly conversation.") I don't talk about purses and shoes and such, because I ain't into all that. Lately, I'd been thinking about how to get a hold of a Playstation3 console.

But my goodness, who would have known that Tayari is not only the best writer in the universe, but that she is also a master "pursologist", a purse sommelier of sorts!!?

Let's just say, she hipped me to the whole current world of "pocketbooks" in less than 10 minutes.

Oh my!

I had a writing question, but decided it was, I don't know... inappropriate, considering the context of the girly convo.

LOL!

I got off the phone, and I must admit that I had the shakes. I was REAL excited. I was working on fixing a flaky computer program at the time, and I just stopped that altogether before I tore something up.

I could see myself walking to my cubicle, bidding on that purse, and HAVING it. Then I thought about how my Financial Freedom leader would NEVER let me hear the end of it
("You gotta get out of debt, LadyLee, blah, blah, BLAH!")

I stayed back in the lab and continued what I was doing. I had to do the right thing. I promised myself that I would give myself a good hour to calm down, then go and have a look-see.

I didn't get around to it. (But it's was on my mind real heavy-like, mayne.)

Well, I was at home a couple of evenings after that post on the purse, all snug in my bed, sleeping GOOD, when I get a phone call from my "friend" Mike, who is a bit more interested in me than I care to really talk about. (Let's just say he is a bit too aggressive for my liking.)

"Hello, you sleep?"
I stretched and turned over.
"Yes, I was knocked out."
"I just wanted to call and say goodnight."
"Uh, yeah."

This pisses me off. What is up with that? Why call me to wish me a goodnight? That ish ain't cute. We're not in high school. I'm not calling Mike to wish him goodnight. Reminder to self: next time, don't answer the phone.

"Hey, uh, I read your blog yesterday, the story about the black bag."
"What did I tell you about reading my blog? Chill with that."
"No, 'cuz it's a free country."

And this is why I don't like Mike. He can't follow simple instructions.

He sighs hard, then says...

"I want to buy that purse for you."

*LadyLee sits straight up in bed*

(you know I have to leave you hanging off the cliff by tips of your fingernails... right?)

LOL...

Stay tuned tomorrow for "The Curse of the Purse, Part II"

On This Day. . .

On this day. . .

A cold day some 37 yares ago. . .

Mama Jones laid down and gave birth to Baby Girl Jones. . .

Mama Jones breathed a sigh of relief, and said… "Let’s name this here baby. . .CELIE"

Papa Jones frowned and adjusted his dashiki.

"No now, Mama Jones. Let’s name her. . ."

*Papa Jones frantically flipping through the pages of his book of Swahili names*

“Uh, Let’s name her. . ."

TAYARI meaning “I am prepared”

And he held her up to the sky, like Omoro Kinte held up Kunta Kinte in the Epic saga Roots, and. . .

A Nurse angrily taps on Papa Jones' shoulder. He turns around.

“Now Mr. Jones... You can’t have that baby out here on this hospital lawn like that in this cold air. And it’s against hospital regulations to take the baby out of the hospital without being properly checked out... Now if I have to keep telling you this, I'm calling the authorities..."

LOL!!!!

Ha, ha… Had to get funny one last time before the end of your birthday week, Tayari!”

LOL!!

Happy Bithday Tayari…

*Oldgirl does the Happy dance*

My oh my… This has been a most fascinating week at the House of LadyLee.

“Tayari shrines” up all over the house. Fascinating Poetry and Short Story readings.

Party people all over the house, crowded shoulder to shoulder, screaming...

"Ain't no party like a LadyLee party, cuz a LadyLee Party don't STOP!"

I am plum tuckered out!! It has been a party indeed...

But, I am her #1 fan.

Yes indeed. I am.

And a number #1 fan must give a “gift” fitting for the #1 Lurker on the LadyLee blog: "The Queen of Lurk City", a.k.a. "Racer X" a.k.a. "Miss Celie".

For Miss Celie scratches out my head when I was ailing has done much to help out LadyLee.

Racer X has done much to keep SpeedRacer on the right path.

For that, I am grateful.

So I thought about what kind of “gift” I could give her.

I am a strange Oldgirl. I don’t like to shop.

I am frugal. But it has to be something terribly expensive... on the sentimental tip.

Something fit for a Diva.

What does one give a writin’ Diva for her birthday?

I am not giving her a book. Nope. I can pretty much guarantee she and I DO NOT read the same books.

It has to be something a bit unique… ya know.

I have A LOT of hobbies and interests that people don’t know about. (My family is extremely artsy.) I have “mentors” in all of these areas. This summer, I discussed a little project with my friend/coworker/“mentor” Cowgirl Cre. She gave her guarded “approval”.

Cowgirl Cre raised her eyebrows and stared me down. . . not even pausing to blink. . .

And spoke her usual words of wisdom...

“Girl, I tried that a couple of times.”
“Ain’t trying to discourage you, but…”
“Hope you work that out LadyLee!”
“You better than me, hon!”

And my favorite word of wisdom:

“That there is MORE than a notion!”

No, teacher… I can do it. I KNOW I can,” I said defiantly in August. “And my deadline is November 15th. That gives me plenty of time to think and plan. I just have to track down the supplies."

*Cowgirl Cre shakes her head and walks away*

So I sat down, and began the journey. Sat on the front porch in a rocking chair to do it...

(N'awl... I don't even have a rocking chair. I did it while sitting on the sofa, watching my football games and Law and Order marathons.)

I missed my deadline by a week, but, uh…

I made the ultimate gift. (Well, ultimate according to me.)

An Original Oldgirl Production (with the help of a pattern of course).



Took me 130 hours. But I did it!!

*LadyLee throws the smokin’ crochet needle to the floor. It BURSTS into flames then explodes into a million pieces*

One thing about me: I like homemade gifts, period. Something I can put my time, effort, and heart into. I like to give a gift that someone will keep and cherish. When I can give something like that? Man oh man… I feel like I’ve accomplished something. I've given a good gift.

And this afghan, which I have named “The Tayari”, is just that.

So Miss Celie got it in the mail on Wednesday.

And she likes it. It matches everything in her crib. Go figure!



You look all comfy, girl!

There are some FUNNY incidents surrounding the creation of “The Tayari”… including my cat Oscar-Tyrone's bizarre guard and candle light vigil over the darn thing.


I will talk about that next week. I had about 8 posts for Tayari’s birthday week, but only made it through 5 (I have been a little busy this week, and I can't stand double posting). But the festivities will spill over into next week… gotta get those posts up AND get back to my normal posts.

I gotta talk about our purse convo and the whole fallout behind that.

And you KNOW I have to anoint Tayari with her Original Oldgirl status, too.

Stay tuned for “The After Party” festivities. This is cool because I can mix it all in with my regular posts...

“The Curse of the Purse”
“The Tale of the Afghan: “The Tayari”.
“Taya.ri Jones: The Original Oldgirl.”

But for now…

Miss Celie. Racer X. Queen of Lurk City. Tayari.

I wish you a very Happy Birthday.

Thanks for being an incredible mentor. And I've been pleasantly suprised to find you are a "normal" homegirl.

I will always be your #1 fan and your #1 self-appointed bootleg "work for free" PR chick.

May your 37th year be your best year yet…

Because we all know the best is yet to come.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

~From the Oldgirl~

Grab a Plate, Ya'll !!

The people were partying down hard at the House of LadyLee!!!

"When we party? We Party Hardy!!!!!!"

LadyLee yells out over the crowd.

"Turn down the music!!"

DJ Diva keeps spinning on the wheels of steel, oblivious to LadyLee's request.

"YO DJ! Turn the music down for a second."

No one pays attention.

LadyLee pulls the plug for the DJ booth out of the wall.

"Why you do that, LadyLee!???" the crowd groans.

"Because it's time to eat!!!!"

*Party people RUSH the kitchen*

What's a party without food, man!!!

And we got it all here. You know I had to fire up the grill:

And you KNOW there's always someone hollerin' about they don't eat pork. GEEZ!! So for them, I grilled up some shrimp and crab!






I cooked up some gumbo...



And for you REAL country folk: My grandma brought over some chittlins!



The salmon and biscuits are almost ready!



And for the super health counscious folks, we have all the stir-fry you can eat!










Grab a plate, and Party ON!!!

Oh, and don't forget to leave room for dessert.

Tiny, grab that ice cream out the freezer!



Party People, make sure you have a few of LadyLee's Oatmeal Raisin walnut cookies and Chocalate Chip Pecan cookies.



Tayari was suppose to bake her world famous Red Velvet cake, but she came straight here after getting off the Greyhound bus. The chick was late for her own party, as she was trying to run down the Brand New Heavies...

You forgot about the cake, you GROUPIE!!!

That's alright, 'cuz we got the double chocolate cake!!

Yeah, you know I got it covered...

"Ain't no party like a LadyLee party,

'Cuz a Ladylee party don't... STOP!!!!!!!!!!!"

LOL!!