I am thankful for....
1. My parents. They taught me life lessons that will never leave me. They took care of me as God intended. They were strict, yet loving, and very generous. It's true when they say that when you come from nothing, you want your kids to have everything. My parents both grew up poor and thanks to them, I've had everything in life. I am so very grateful to them.
2. The wonderful man that I married 25 years ago. He taught me what true love is all about. He left this world to cancer almost 18 years ago.
3. Our son, a really intelligent 20-something who has a beautiful writing style, a gentle nature, and a generous hand. Oh and he has his dad's heighth.
4. Our daughter, one of the most beautiful human beings I've ever beheld. She is beautiful to the eyes, to the soul and to the spirit.
5. My second husband. He taught me that not every man has my best interests at heart. And he taught me that I can be really hardheaded when I just don't want to admit that I've failed at something.
6. The man to my right. He taught me that people can be a diamond in the rough. Sometimes if you look past the rumor, innuendo, and general bullshit, you find the love of your life. He's taken care of me like no other, and put up with a little crap from me in the process. I don't know if he's the love of all of my life, but I do know that I love him, he's in my life, and I'm loving life right now.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Get in Line!
I recently moved out of the city. Yes, I know. Everyone knows I'm a city girl, have always lived in big cities, and always would. But yes, I moved out of our fair city. I'm still close, but not close enough.
And I realized that taking a bus from the east is like nothing else you can imagine. My first day, I arrived at the Park N Ride. There were two people standing under the shelter. I went in and made my way next to them. They were both facing north, and I assumed they were watching for the bus to come. Knowing that I would see the bus when it rolled up in front of me, I faced the street, put in my earbuds and cranked up the ipod. Then I realized something was a little strange. Nobody stood in front of me. I looked to my right. There was a line of people. And at that moment I realized I was in a line.... and I wasn't facing the right way. True to my personality, I was bucking the pattern, fucking it up, if you will. It was amusing.
Then the bus came and the fun began. Everyone boarded the bus, in single file, in the exact order in which we had arrived! Now this was COOL! After living in the city, where people would run down their own grandmother to get on the bus first, this was, dare I say, REFRESHING! I marched on the bus with the rest of the sheep and found a seat.
So a couple days later, I'm catching the bus downtown, heading home to the Park N Ride. Now everyone knows that if you're downtown, there's just no way in hell that your bus is the only one that comes to that specific stop. I find my stop in time to see my bus driving away. SHIT! Now I have to wait for the next one. I meander to the bus stop sign, put in my earbuds and cranked up the ipod. I'm the only one that looks like they're even waiting for a bus. Oh well. I stand there, content with my music choice.
Then I turn about 90 degrees sideways, and see a LINE behind me! I am dying to turn around and say, "how the FUCK do you know what bus I'm taking?" But I say nothing. I text message Big Daddy and tell him this amusing tale. My bus arrives and the line follows me onto it. Seriously, what would they have done if I got on another bus? Would they follow me anyway? Curse me for standing in the wrong place? What? It was just crazy!
I get on the bus and call my friend Mike and tell him the story of the lines to take the bus, ending my story with "white people are so polite!" I was feeling a little racial after this story until I meet up with a good friend of mine on Saturday night. I start telling her my story and before I can even finish, she says, "Oh my gawd, do you ride the white bus?" All I can do is laugh and nod.
And I realized that taking a bus from the east is like nothing else you can imagine. My first day, I arrived at the Park N Ride. There were two people standing under the shelter. I went in and made my way next to them. They were both facing north, and I assumed they were watching for the bus to come. Knowing that I would see the bus when it rolled up in front of me, I faced the street, put in my earbuds and cranked up the ipod. Then I realized something was a little strange. Nobody stood in front of me. I looked to my right. There was a line of people. And at that moment I realized I was in a line.... and I wasn't facing the right way. True to my personality, I was bucking the pattern, fucking it up, if you will. It was amusing.
Then the bus came and the fun began. Everyone boarded the bus, in single file, in the exact order in which we had arrived! Now this was COOL! After living in the city, where people would run down their own grandmother to get on the bus first, this was, dare I say, REFRESHING! I marched on the bus with the rest of the sheep and found a seat.
So a couple days later, I'm catching the bus downtown, heading home to the Park N Ride. Now everyone knows that if you're downtown, there's just no way in hell that your bus is the only one that comes to that specific stop. I find my stop in time to see my bus driving away. SHIT! Now I have to wait for the next one. I meander to the bus stop sign, put in my earbuds and cranked up the ipod. I'm the only one that looks like they're even waiting for a bus. Oh well. I stand there, content with my music choice.
Then I turn about 90 degrees sideways, and see a LINE behind me! I am dying to turn around and say, "how the FUCK do you know what bus I'm taking?" But I say nothing. I text message Big Daddy and tell him this amusing tale. My bus arrives and the line follows me onto it. Seriously, what would they have done if I got on another bus? Would they follow me anyway? Curse me for standing in the wrong place? What? It was just crazy!
I get on the bus and call my friend Mike and tell him the story of the lines to take the bus, ending my story with "white people are so polite!" I was feeling a little racial after this story until I meet up with a good friend of mine on Saturday night. I start telling her my story and before I can even finish, she says, "Oh my gawd, do you ride the white bus?" All I can do is laugh and nod.
Friday, November 21, 2008
My Irresistible Hair
I have irresistible hair to certain people that ride public transportation. Seriously, I do. My hair makes them do some crazy things. I'm guessing my hair got this way back in 2004, but I'm not sure what pushed it over the edge. Is it the color I switched to back then - a medium brown with caramel highlights? It can't be the style, it's been changed several times with equal results. My hair is kind of like a serial killer - it seduced someone once, went into hibernation for a few years, and now seems to be making a comeback.
Let me start out by saying I'm not a young woman. I'm not exactly old either. Most people can't believe my age when I tell them, but I take care of myself and have good grooming. Truth be told, I'm moderatly attractive, but by no means hot. If you saw me, you'd never believe I had this problem, unless you uhhhh, fell victim to my hair.
I realize that by talking about this, people that know me will know that I posted this. But I don't care anymore. I can't take having criminal hair anymore. I'm ready to shave my head. Let me share with you the havoc my hair is causing.
1. It was mid 2004 and I was sitting on the bus, reading some Tess Gerritson, when a woman's voice behind me shrieks, "You're disgusting, this is the second time I've seen you do that!". She's yelling at the man in the seat behind me. As she's bee-lining toward the front of the bus, she taps me on the shoulder and tells me "If I were you, I'd move seats!" I immediately look down because I can only imagine he's taking a leak on the bus and I want to move my feet before it gets on my shoes. She reaches the driver, starts talking to him, they both turn and look in my direction, and I immediately point at the guy sitting behind me, so as not to make anyone think I was the trouble-maker. The bus drivers motions and the guy sullenly gets up and exits the bus. Guess what folks? He was masturbating in the seat behind me, and while he's wacking away, he's gently carressing my hair between his fingers as it innocently hangs on the bar of my seat. Ew, just ew. To answer your obvious question, no, he did not wack to fruition. To answer some non-obvious questions, I actually had to give a deposition as to being "sexually harrassed" by this guy (the law's words, not mine). It seems the woman who busted him in action went to Port Authority Police, who, with her help, found the guy and pressed charges against him. These charges probably would have been dropped had the woman not found me, and then notified the PA Police, who took my statement.
2. I'm sitting on the T this time in mid 2007 listening to House of Pain on my ipod. Now people, at this point I've already learned to sit either with my back to something impenetrable, or not sit in front of any guy. However, this day had a packed T and not much choice of seats. I hear a couple grunts behind me and simultaneously, feel the hand move through my hair. I jerk around and blurt, "Don't TOUCH my hair!" and quickly move to another seat as he's breathing hard and smiling at me. I immediately text a friend to tell him of my crazy hair being off of seduction hiatus.
3. Now I'm on a different bus in December 2007 enjoying a little James Ellroy. I'm sitting in front of a woman with a little boy, about a year or two old. The little boy touches my hair. I turn around and laugh nervously. The mother tells him to stop. He can't stop. He's drawn to my hair like alot of other guys who ride public transportation. I finally get up and move, while the mother apologizes profusely. All I can do is muster, "It's okay, it happens alot". Once again, I text my friend and tell him even little boys like my hair.
4. Last week, I got my hair colored a little differently, and got a good bit of length cut off. I thought that would teach my hair a lesson. But nooooo. This morning I was riding the bus at a rediculously early hour. As I'm exiting downtown around 6:00am, a guy reaches out and touches the back of my hair. I whip around with the intent to hit him with my Amy Tan book and he's just sitting there smiling. I do nothing but shake my head and sigh. I am resigned to the fact that my hair is just plain nutso. I don't have to text my friend this time, he'll find out when he reads today's R&R.
So please, if you see someone and you're drawn to touch their hair, don't do it. They're probably already creeped out by their own hair and you won't be helping matters.
New Period Underwear!
This was posted by me, on Craigslist Pittsburgh, on May 31, 2007. You can now find it on "best-of-craigslist".
Today, I turned a perfectly good pair of panties into Period Underwear. I hate when that happens. Men may not know what Period Underwear are. I shall explain and enlighten. Period Underwear are what chicks wear when (surprise!) they're on their period. NOTE: they start out as panties, but morph into underwear - PERIOD underwear. A few things can turn panties into Period Underwear. Here are some examples:
1. You're wearing a capable pair of panties and the Monkey Gets a Nosebleed. It leaves an awful stain on the panties, which USUALLY can't be removed, rendering them Period Underwear
2. They're older panties, no longer favorites and you'd never wear them if there was a possibility you were getting laid, so you feel comfortable wearing them when Aunt Flo Comes to Visit, demoting them to Period Underwear status
3. They're granny panties, you can't remember why you have them and you pretty much only wear them when you're home sick, or just plain suffering from the pain and bloat of being OTR because they're really comfy and never ride up so they're by default Period Underwear
4. These are nice panties, something you'll wear even if you're NOT Surfing the Crimson Flow and you're not at all afraid to be seen in them but they're dark colored (black, navy, red), thereby making them both Non-Period Panties and Period Underwear
That should do it! So men, now you know one of our dirty little secrets. If you see us in items #1 - #3, consider it notice that George is in Town. How you handle that knowledge is your affair, I'm just here to give you the low-down. If you see us in item #4, things could go either way, proceed as you wish.
Ladies, as one of THOSE commercials says, Have a Happy Period!
Today, I turned a perfectly good pair of panties into Period Underwear. I hate when that happens. Men may not know what Period Underwear are. I shall explain and enlighten. Period Underwear are what chicks wear when (surprise!) they're on their period. NOTE: they start out as panties, but morph into underwear - PERIOD underwear. A few things can turn panties into Period Underwear. Here are some examples:
1. You're wearing a capable pair of panties and the Monkey Gets a Nosebleed. It leaves an awful stain on the panties, which USUALLY can't be removed, rendering them Period Underwear
2. They're older panties, no longer favorites and you'd never wear them if there was a possibility you were getting laid, so you feel comfortable wearing them when Aunt Flo Comes to Visit, demoting them to Period Underwear status
3. They're granny panties, you can't remember why you have them and you pretty much only wear them when you're home sick, or just plain suffering from the pain and bloat of being OTR because they're really comfy and never ride up so they're by default Period Underwear
4. These are nice panties, something you'll wear even if you're NOT Surfing the Crimson Flow and you're not at all afraid to be seen in them but they're dark colored (black, navy, red), thereby making them both Non-Period Panties and Period Underwear
That should do it! So men, now you know one of our dirty little secrets. If you see us in items #1 - #3, consider it notice that George is in Town. How you handle that knowledge is your affair, I'm just here to give you the low-down. If you see us in item #4, things could go either way, proceed as you wish.
Ladies, as one of THOSE commercials says, Have a Happy Period!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
