Oldgirl's Gazillion thoughts on the Election and Conversations with Grandma (Part I)

Is it just me, or is anyone else out there getting really tired of this election business?

I mean, I watch the major cable news channels, and lately I've had to turn it off, and go find something useful to do. Too much WHINING. Don't these people (newscasters/commentators/ analysts) have anything else to do? I mean, I realize it's their job to "worry" about the election?

But dodging Bosnia sniper fire? Reverend Wright?

Waaay too much going on. Waaay too much to keep up with.

Can somebody talk about some isshas here? Is that too much to ask?

I mean, I feel like this: Billary gonna get the Democratic nomination by any means necessary. She and Bill are doing some "behind the curtain" ish right now, as we speak. Oldgirl pulling some serious tricks out of her bag. I can't wait to see how they explain how they stole the nomination.

I was crying when Obama mentioned in a speech and broke down how Billary was trying to pull the "okey-doke".

LOL!

I thought I was bootleg.

No, Billary is the Queen of Bootleg.

Why? Because... I think it's just politics as usual. Politics is politics, man.

I'd never be a good politician. I have absolutely NO tact. None. It's all about saying exactly what people want to hear. I don't like to do that, and I think it works for only so long?

I couldn't be Barack Obama right now. Because I would've grabbed the microphone and told EVERYBODY :

"Yo... what's up ya'll? How ya doing, how ya feel!? Look, check it out--- Kiss my a$$!"

*Ladylee drops the microphone, holds hands in the air, walks off stage, and promptly drops out of the race*

Gotta be a special person to run for election. I mean, you have to have an undying passion for that. This is why Obama stays in the race. This is why Billary bootlegging it like crazy. PASSION, baby!!! I would DIE if people were all up in my business, researching my friendships and past relationships, past decisions, and where I went to church. I would loose my freaking mind!

And what's up with the Reverend J. Wright business? Hmm. Am I the only one who has come across black folk that feel the same way he does? And Obama was suppose to pull his pastor to the side and correct him, they are saying.

Are you serious?? Would you run up on someone who survived the civil rights movement, has had to drink out of the colored peoples water fountain and correct them on how they feel about white people?

My craziest and most confusing memory of my Grandfather: Every single time I complained about my college classes, I had to hear "Your grandmama didn't get on her knees and scrub white people floors so you can sit up here complaining!!! She made $3 a day, working three days a week. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I wanted to tell him, "Yo, grandma wasn't thinking about me in 1940-something when she was on her knees scrubbing white folks floors."

But I knew I'd get whipped if I said such a thing. And Obama's not running up on his pastor correcting him about anything. You say what you have to say in your head, and keep it moving.

To this day, when I get to complaining too hard... I think about how Grandma got on her knees and scrubbed white people's floors for $3 dollars a day. Somehow, I straighten my back and shut the heck up.

And that thing about the HIV virus being planted in the black community... that's old. I know a BUNCH of people who think that. I remember even hearing one of the major black film stars, whose a darling of mainstream, say the same thing a few years ago in an interview in a black magazine. (Bet he's hoping no one pulls that up! White people LOVE him. He better not run for president! LOL!).

But have you heard the new scare? The one about the new cervical cancer vaccine?

"I'm not giving my daughter that shot, because they are trying to make little black girls sterile so they can't have babies."

What???? Wow. I've actually heard that. I would've never thought about that at all. Who thought of that? And I've heard this from different women. Wow. And I hate to say it, but it scares the hell out of me each time I've heard it. Goodness.

Anybody remember a little thing called the Tuskeegee experiment? Personally, I think that's why black people think the way we do about such things. "If it happened once, don't think it can't happen again." If I hear that one more time, I'm gonna scream.

The thing is I know PLENTY of black folk who think like this. I have my own hangups. My worst one is that I don't like buying gas in the hood. The rumor has always been that they send the crappiest gas to the black areas. Took me years to get over this, and I still think about this whenever I pump gas in my neighborhood. Geez. And when I am out in the white suburbs, I feel up my tank with gas.

Yeah, I have hangups. You who don't... feel free to cast the first stone.

I think I understand the process of what's going on.

Drop a seed (words).

Dropped seed grows. It spreads like wild fire. It incites fear.

Fear is an incredible emotion... causes one to think and believe and do all kinds of things.

Hmm... Yeah, I think that's it.

It's a wonder we even choose to leave the house everyday, ya'll.

*Ladylee snatches up pom-poms and shakes them with much vigor*

Less fear. MORE FAITH.
MORE FAITH. Less fear.

Enough said.

*LadyLee throws pom-poms to the floor*

Anyway, Me and my grandma were talking about this. I go hang out with Grandma a couple of times a month, just to sit back and shoot the breeze and what-not. I go over after work somedays and we watch a little Oprah. Oh joy. (I'm not the biggest Oprah fan.)

But we got into a conversation about the election. I asked if she'd been following it, and she said yes.

"So Mama [that's what I call her], did you ever think you would see the day where a black man could had a darn good chance to become president?"
*Grandma thinks about it for a minute*
"No. Not in my lifetime."
"I don't know about that Hillary," I said. "Something just ain't right about that chick."
"I'm just confused, Lisa," Grandma said. "Is she gonna be the president or is Bill Clinton gonna be the president?" "I don't know. Look like they trying to do some bootleg or something. It all look shady to me."
Grandma leans forward and squints a little. "And didn't he have that girl all back up in the Oval office."
"Who?"
Grandma nods. "That Bill Clinton. Didn't he have that young girl all back up in the Oval office?"
It takes me a minute to realize that she's talking about Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. "Sure did."
*Grandma leans back in her chair, and grumbles about Bill "having that girl all hemmed up in that Oval office*

Man, I wanted to scream. That ish was funny. I am so shocked that she remembered that. And the look on her face when she was talking about it.
You had to be there.

I don't know who Grandma is voting for. Didn't ask. I hate the fact that she's even thinking about that, or that she's confused (as most of us are) as to what is going on with the election. I wish she was clear on the issues.

Instead of having to hear about sniper fire and reverends and such.

I just know she don't approve of funny business going on all up in the Oval Office, and doesn't want to hear of it happening again. Ever.

And I'm glad she's not down on her knees scrubbing anyone's floors.

Glad of that.

Food for Thought: "Until I Get Off My Behind..."

Every now and again, That Original Oldgirl Chele likes to pull out her Original Oldgirl platinum plus card and USE IT.

This does not suprise me. It makes me quite happy, though.


Afterall, she is one of my favorite novelists, poetess, essayist, and -

Blog fam cups hands around mouth and screams:

"Stop jocking Chele, LadyLee!!!"

*LadyLee squints hard at blog fam*

Shut up. Been a loooong time since I've jocked THAT Original Oldgirl. Hush up.

Chele drops mad knowledge. And when she does, it's like dynamite - it's explosive, blows up isshas, rearranges some things for this Old Girl.

Yes. I jock.

LOL!

But on the serious tip-

Last week, she wrote in a blog post...

"Behavior dictates attitude. In other words, I can pray for a better attitude until eternity but until I get off my behind and change my behavior nothing is going to happen." (Chele, 2008)

Wow. That has been on my mind, on my mind, on my mind. I've been pondering it, chewing on it, pontificating on it left and right.

She happened to put the foot stomp on something I've been struggling with in my journals for the past few months. I've been writing much about my behavior and attitiude, struggling with consistency of them both, and trying to change each.

There's one thing that I've noticed about myself over the years:

Looks like when I pray about things, nothing happens UNTIL I get off my behind and get moving in that general direction. In other words, I can sit around and pray until the cows come home, but nothing ain't happening until I get up off my knees, make a to-do list, or AT LEAST take a baby step in that general direction - make a phone call, do SOMETHING.

I shudder to think about how many prayers have been answered over the years, but I would not get off my behind and make a few moves in the right direction towards the answer.

*LadyLee shuddering hard, and deciding not to think about passed up dreams and bad decisions*

You know, in this day and age, we are up to our necks in resources. I mean, resources abound. I wish I had the internet instead of that freakin' card catalog madness I had back in the day. In this day and time, I've been able to get the answers to my questions in a matter of minutes, in a matter of seconds even.

And yeah, I may not feel like doing something. Yeah, my feelings/attitude might be jacked up. But until I get off my behind, and get ta moving in that direction that I need to be going, my feelings or attitude WON'T change. I am fully persuaded that in the midst of making moves, my attitude and behavior will adjust accordingly.

Because if I'm waiting for my attitude and my feelings to change before I step out on a little faith...

Man, I'ma be waiting a long time. I hate to say it, but I'm STILL, in certain areas of my life, waiting around for an attitude change.

Humph. And I see that Original Oldgirl Chele has realized the same things, in her own way, of course.

I thought I was the only one struggling with that.

It is good to know that great minds think alike.

Really though.

Roasted What?!?!?!

Cowgirl Cre and I share a cubicle, and we work with a lot of food products. She and I are not in the same group though. But for some reason, her group likes to bring all their "projects" to the desk and process them in the cubicle area.

Not sure what's up with that. But ya'll need to cut that out.

(Some folks where joking the other day. They had cartloads of stuff in the cubicle area. "LadyLee gonna come around that corner and run into everthing." If I didn't know any better, I would think that they were setting up a trap to make me fall on my face. Humph.)

Anyway, I was typing away on my computer (probably blogging, lol), and Cowgirl Cre was taring open plastic packages, making up all kinds of unnecessary noise. I turned around to see what she was doing, and she was dealing with what appeared to be some seeds or something. Couldn't really tell much from the jacked up non-english packaging.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Roasted Watermelon seeds," she answered nonchalantly.

*crickets*

"Roasted What?!?!?"

"Watermelon seeds, girl!"

So, I got real nosy and rolled over to her side of our cubicle, and looked in the bag. Sure enough, it was a bunch of watermelon seeds.

"Yeah right!" I said. "Don't nobody eat watermelon seeds!"

"Who the heck would eat some doggone watermelon seeds?" I asked.

Cowgirl Cre shrugged and kept fooling with the bags. Hen-Dog comes over, and we have an even bigger discussion.

I got even nosier, and decided to taste one. Turns out it is similar to a sunflower seed. You have to crack the shell with your teeth, THEN eat what's inside. It taste alright, but it is much harder to eat than a sunflower seed, and you know how much you have to fight with a sunflower seed shell.

But who would ever known of such of thing?

And for me, it kills that old stereotype for sure:

"Black people love watermelon."

But doggonit, who would've known the seed was useful? If anyone should know, WE should know.

The Asians like them a lot. Watermelon seeds are a REAL popular snack over in that part of the world, and they rival sunflowere seeds over there. Also, I found out, doing a little research, that tea made from ground watermelon seeds does wonders for cleaning out the kidneys!

"Man," I said. "Somebody could've been making watermelon seed butter."

*Cowgirl Cre gives the gas face*

"I wonder why George Washington Carver never did anything with watermelon seeds?"

*Cowgirl Cre laughs hard. (A bit too hard)*

Hmm... interesting.

My biggest memory concerning watermelon seeds is swallowing one when I was around 5 years old. I cried the rest of the day about it, because I thought a watermelon was going to grow in my stomach, an my stomach would bust wide open and I would die. I was mindful about that for a couple of weeks, before deciding that maybe a watermelon was not going to grow in my stomach.

So now, after all these years I have another memory about watermelon seeds.

Now... if I can just wrap my mind around the existence of square watermelons...



Geez. Folks know they come up with ideas, don't they?!

Tales O' Fire (Part II)

Now, I've had one other little fire incident in the laboratory, and incidently, it occurred in the same lab as the one talked about in Part I.

And this one involves that doofus Chang. Not directly, but it was the results of one of his mistakes/shortcuts.

As I said before, there is always one person in the chemistry lab who is a danger to himself and everyone else. And Chang was it. He broke a lot of stuff, tore up a lot of stuff... then would break out crying about it. We thought we could put him in charge of ordering our chemicals, because you can't muck that up. Just fill out an order form. Can't be that doggone hard, can it?

Well, Chang liked to take short cuts and save money. I think this may have stemmed from our advisor telling Chang "Don't spend too much money!"

Now, in a lab where we worked with HIGHLY moisture sensitive materials, it was highly important to make sure all solvents are "dry". No water whatsoever. And you can order solvents where it is already "anhydrous" (dry). (But they are expensive, you see.) We ordered "anhydrous" solvents for general use and we put them through drying/purification stills.

General rule: "Never order cheap wet solvents."

Chang rule: "It's cheap, it saves us money. I'm ordering it!"

So...

I was doing a reaction one day, and since this was some 15 years ago, I can't really remember what it was I was working on. But it involved dropping some lithium metal in ethyl ether. I'd done this plenty of times before then.

I didn't get ether out of the stills. I got it straight out of what I thought was a bottle of anhydrous ether.

Well, I had about 1/2 liter ether in a flask, and I dropped some lithium in it.

It bubbled and fizzed like crazy. I had it in the back of a fume hood, a work area for chemistry work that contains fumes, etc...

I remember thinking..."Gee, that isn't suppose to do that."

I had my hand on the flask. I pushed it back further in the hood, thinking, maybe I just need to let that "calm down".

Then, all of sudden, before I could move my hand.

WHOOSH!!

It sounded like when I'm preparing a grill, and I throw a lit match on lighter fluid-soaked coals.

And I didn't move my hand in time. My hand and wrist caught fire. What a sight.

I snatched my hand back and shook it hard in the air. The fire went out, but not before singeing a little of my hair.

OH. MY.

Well, I almost fainted. I don't know who came and checked on me, but I remember hiding out in the ladies restroom just down the hall.. .

It is at these times that you need some alone time. To pray, to reflect... to something.

Now, I didn't need any medical attention. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that solvent will burn and burn itself out. My hand was coated in solvent that splashed out of the flask. It seems as if that was what protected my skin. (Yeah, that don't make any sense to me either. But it is what it is. Personally, I like to think it was divine protection, you know?)

It could've been bad if I wasn't curious about all the "fizzing".

My peeps joned me something terrible later that day. There was a black film festival on campus and I met up with them. They could smell the burn of my hair. (Wasn't bad, only along the edge near my left temple.) So there was a lot of "What's that smell, is something on fire??"

LOL

(Yeah, it took them a month to uh, forget about it all.)

Well, I told my advisor about this. He thought the same thing I thought: That ain't suppose to happen. Plus, I'd done whatever I was working on several times before. And there would be only one or two small bubbles. Never some alka-seltzer hard fizzling.

Hmm...

We went and looked at the bottle of solvent. Turns out Chang had ordered the cheap stuff. When solvents are cheap, they usually contain a good bit of water (well, too much to be using in an organic lab).

I lit into that doggone Chang. I must say to this day, I haven't cussed anyone out THAT bad since. He already thought I was the angry black woman. Every time I saw dude - in class, walking down the hall, walking around campus - I would point and say some choice words. I had him scared to death. I remember him being in tears a couple of times. (I wasn't moved by that AT ALL).

Of course, my advisor snapped on him. It wasn't good enough for me. I wanted him to take his belt off and whoop that joker. But Chang was VERY sensitive, a big cryer. He always eventually got a pat on the shoulder. I couldn't stand how him and others around me were babied.

Me and Chang didn't get along as it was, and we didn't get along AT ALL after that. I think I stopped talking to him. And he knew not to even think about me or even look at me.

Anyway... I know I make sure to check my materials before I use them. I can blame Chang's ineptness all day, but at the end of the day, I have to be careful...

Last week, some 15 years later, I googled ol' Chang to see what he's up to. He appears to be successful and doing well. He has a nice impressive list of accomplishments. I saw him at a conference some 8 years ago, and I could see the fear in his eyes when he saw me.

Yes, I thought about his "doofiness" then. All his shenanigans ran across my mind in one big blur...

But what's done is done.

Plus, I don't work with him.

And hopefully, I never will again...

Happy 40th Birthday LadyTee: "40 Reasons"

I'm just bursting at the seams all giddy... because it's my best friend LadyTee's birthday!!

Correction: Her 40th birthday!!

So to celebrate, I bought cards and mailed them to her for a week. She had no idea I would do such a thing, since I'm not a card person. Only one was a birthday card, the others were friendship cards.

Out of all the cards I bought, I bought her one that was simple but meant much to me. I bought LadyTee a card that simply said "Your friendship means so much..." on the front of the card. Inside, it read "...for so many reasons."

I wrote beneath that phrase "I am glad you are my friend. As you always say 'God really thought about me when He made you my friend.' Honestly, I have no idea how or why you think so highly of me, as I am not the most "fascinating" friend one can have. But you saying that about me, makes me feel real good about myself. I've always felt that, if no one else love me, Tammie loves me, and that makes me very rich, very blessed, and very proud. I am glad you are my friend."

But I thought about this, and wanted to say more.

Could I come up with 40 reasons why I am glad that LadyTee is my best friend?

I don't know. I mean, we have been "bff" since the late '70s. There is so much history there. 40 things off the top of my head? I don't know...

I couldn't write it all in that card. So I decided to do it in a blog. And I wanted to put up a sample of some of the cards she got in the mail this week from me.

So, Tam... here are the 40 reasons, for your 40th birthday, why I am glad that you are my "BFF":


You are down to earth.

I can talk to you about anything.

You do not judge me.

You are one of the smartest people I've ever met.

You give me good advice.


You will listen to me cry.

You will listen, even if you don't know why I'm tripping.

If I am tripping, you are quick to say "Shut up, man!"

You love me with no strings attached.

I can be myself around you.

You allow me to blow off steam.

You were the first person I called when I got my first period. I was 13 years old. That was back in 1983, just after I'd come home from the movies. I'd gone to see Trading Places that day. Don't remember what we talked about at the time, but I remember calling you, from the wall phone in our den.

I love it when we are having a deep discussion about something that has hurt me, and you reply with "Look, let me tell you something Lee..." I know you 'bout to tell me the exact answer and solution to my problem.

You call me up sometimes just to tell me that you love me and I was on your mind. You know that bothers me, because I don't know how to respond to that. You just leave it alone, and keep it moving. You were just thinking about me, and wanted to tell me that.

You have always been my number 1 cheerleader.

When I need support, I think of God first, and then I think of you.

You pray for me.

You allow me to be me. (You know how solitary I am). If you come over, I can wonder off somewhere else and do my own thing, or go to sleep... and you don't give me a hard time over it.

You remind me to be thankful in all things.

You remind me to work on putting God first.

You make me cook for you even if I'm sick as a dog!

You get more excited about my birthday than I do, gal.

One of the most important things you did for me was in the 10th or 11th grade. You got off the school bus and followed my "love interest" T.B. up the road, got in his face and threatened him, telling that joker to leave me alone. You thought he was taking advantage of me, but it was a nice little consending adults thing going on. (And you have the nerve to still be pissed about this, some 20 years later. You almost messed up my action, girl.)

If you read something good in your bible, you will call and tell me about it. I like that a lot.

Me and you, Ladytee, can laugh at anything. A roach crawling across the floor will have us howling.

You can listen to the sound of my voice, and automatically know that I'm upset... no matter how much I try to fake it.

I remember when I was sick some 7 years ago, you found me a doctor to go to. I know if it wasn't for that, I'd be dead right now. Thanks for thinking about me, and taking action when I couldn't.

You will tell me when I am wrong. I need that. You know how much I hate an ass-kisser.

You've taken the blame for things just so I wouldn't get in trouble (you know how My mama is, man).


You've stood up to my Mama when I couldn't.

You encourage me.

You make sure (and very loudly, I may add) to express to me when you think I am dealing with the wrong people.

I remember one time you showed up at my place with a single uncooked egg. You walked in the kitchen and held it out to me. We were having a get together, and you wanted me to make cornbread. I always wonder what you went through to protect that egg and keep it from breaking on the way over. (Yes, that sounds trivial, but I made a HUGE deal out of it today. "My friend brought me an egg, ya'll!!")

You are extremely territorial when it comes to our friendship. You snap on your kids if they even THINK about saying that I am "their friend." (Come on Tee, that is... dysfunctional. Nell is 18 years old now, and you been dogging him out about this since he turned 1. CUT THAT OUT!)

We've gone weeks without talking to each other, because we were both busy. It didn't matter, because whenever we did talk, things always picked up from where they left off.

You were the first one I called when me and Old boy decided to get a divorce. You sat and listened while I cried. At 1 in the morning. I appreciate that. And I had peace of mind before daylight.

If you see my kitchen is looking crazy, you will roll up your sleeves and wash dishes. (I will forever think you crazy for doing such a thing. But I have picked up that crazy habit from you, you know.)

You love me when I feel that no one else does.

You love me even when I am being STUPID.

You love me more than I love myself.

You take pride in knowing me better than I know my ownself. (And you're CRAZY adamant about that, for the past 28 years. WHAT IS UP WITH THAT? Geez.)

You are always excited to get my opinion on things.

You CONTINUOUSLY brag on me, telling folks that I am the smartest person you know. (CUT THAT OUT.)

You have three qualities that I wish I have, but I don't have: patience, compassion, and longsuffering. In other words, you are strong where I am very weak.

Enough said.

That was more than 40 reasons. When there are so many things to say, I often lose count.

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LADYTEE.

I hope we are "bff"... forever and ever!