Sweet, Dark and Crazy

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Thanksgiving Memory

I was about 11 or 12 when my Uncle Bob, his wife and their daughter came down to spend Thanksgiving Day with us. Now, this was a pretty big crew. Nice people but to say all three of them were a bit hefty would be a gross understatement.

We had a relaxing and uneventful family holiday. They stayed overnight and headed home in the morning. Now mom was a big napper. She loved her naps! It had to be mid-afternoon, she was waking up and she was hungry. She asked me to make her a turkey sandwich.

No problem. I headed downstairs. How hard could it be, right? Well, I couldn’t find the container that had the sliced turkey, so I got out the actual bird. I tried to cut some off.

Mom calls down to me and I told her I was working on it. A few minutes pass and she’s calling me again, annoyed that her very bright child can’t figure out how to make a damn turkey sandwich. Finally, she gets up and comes stomping down the stairs.

She looks at me. She looks at the turkey. She looks harder at the turkey. She then looks in the refrigerator. She can’t find the sliced turkey either. Turns out there was no meat on the turkey. Just a bare carcass. I'd been trying to cut the cartilage on the top.

Dad comes into the kitchen, looks at the bird and proceeds to state the obvious. There is no meat on the turkey. He goes back to the fridge and discovers that the Honey Baked Ham is conspicuously gone too. However, the hambone is there (picked clean but there).

Dad was the first to put two and two together, “They took all of the damn meat. They took all of it.”

We all stood in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to say.

A week later, my mom received a thank you note from Bob and family. It said, “Thank you so much for the wonderful Thanksgiving. We had turkey and ham sandwiches all week.”

Moral of the Story: When someone tells you to fix a plate, leave enough for the hosts to be able to fix a plate too.

Labels: Family, Memories

posted by SDC @ 2:38 PM 0 comments

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Three Things I’m Grateful For…

I don’t have a penis. Yeah, I know the girl crap can be a royal pain: periods, bloating, cramps and childbirth; but at least I don’t have a part of my body that does what it wants, whenever it wants. I mean, if I’m dancing with a guy, he can’t tell if I’m attracted to him or not. But Mr. Happy always lets you know! I can also pee in the privacy of a stall and not in a semi-public urinal.

I have a small car. Yes, people a car — not a monster truck or an SUV but a car. I can parallel park without a problem and I can navigate a parking lot with ease. I’m actually embarrassed for these soccer moms with their gargantuan SUVs. Sure, you got them to ‘keep the kids safe;’ but who’s keeping the other drivers safe from your can’t-park-to-save-your-life-taking-five-minutes-to-back-out-of-a parking-space ass?

I might be fatter but I got an incredible rack in the process. I’ve never been skinny but when I was younger and a size 8, my breasts were less than impressive. Now, since I have gained weight, I have cleavage …. actual cleavage and, since I have never had kids or breast fed, the girls are still full and perky! I can wear a low-cut top and have men hold doors open for me. I could go to a topless beach with no problem. Bottomless beach? That would be another story, but I’ve got an incredible rack now and for that I’m extremely grateful. Makes me almost not want to lose weight!

Labels: Random Shit

posted by SDC @ 7:00 PM 0 comments

Friday, November 20, 2009

Sweet Dark and Crazy Celebrity Baby Names

Being creative types, not to mention people who crave attention, it makes sense that celebs would give babies silly names. Kids names come from anywhere: numbers like Seven (Erykah Badu), the cities where they were conceived (London, Brooklyn), weird made-up concoctions like Jermasjesty (Jermaine Jackson) and even fruits like Apple (Gywneth Paltrow). Rapper Lil Mo followed divine inspiration by naming her daughters Godiss and Heaven.

I'm not a celebrity - but I play one in my own mind so, if I ever do have a kid, I feel entitled to come up with an interesting name for my offspring. So, here are my top 10 names for the unborn and unconceived Sweet Dark and Crazy child.

10. Kumquat: Its a lot more interesting and exotic fruit than an Apple (take that Gywnnie!). If its twins, we can add Kiwi.

9. Peugot: I dont even know if they make the car anymore but it sounds good because its French (well, I think its French).

8. 1800: Its a number (like the Badu baby) and its also the name of my favorite Tequila (which knowing me might have played a role in little 1800s conception). And lets not lie, you know there are already children out there named Hennessey, Courvoisier and Tanqueray.

7. Areola: Technically, its the name of the dark part around your nipples. But you didnt know that!!! It sounds pretty and its close to my grandmothers name Osceola (which is also an Indian tribe in Florida. Okay, she was neither Native American or from Florida but that was her name!).

6. Karoake: Its just sounds like a lot of fun.

5. Sephora: If a kid can be named after a line of lotions and crèmes (like R&B artist Nivea) then why not be named after a store that features all kinds of cool beauty supplies.

4. Nougat: Its sweet and yummy just like the chocolate and caramel that often accompany it in a candy bar.

3. Sussudio: You know when you were playing this song back in 1985 that you considered it as a name for your child too. I know you did!!!

2. Sergeant Major: Jason Lee (Earl from My Name is Earl) named his son Pilot Inspector. Prince's sister has President and Sir. Its a title and an occupation.

1. Nostril: You tell me that isnt a kick ass name for a kid!

Labels: Random Shit

posted by SDC @ 2:25 PM 0 comments

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Love Your Job? Yeah, Right

I've heard statistics that say up to 40% of people love their jobs. If I picked 100 people I know, I seriously doubt that 40 of them would say they love their jobs. Then again, it could be that I just happen to know a bunch of disgruntled and frustrated people. You know what they say about birds of a feather.

Another statistic says that the most common time for a heart attack is Monday morning as people prepare for work. I don't know but that sounds a lot more realistic than 40 out of 100 people getting up on that same Monday morning and skipping to work brimming with happiness.

There have been jobs that I have enjoyed; either for the work, the people or in a couple of occasions both. But I've never worked somewhere where I'd 'work for free' if I didn't need the money. I've never worked someplace that I would happily agree to come in on weekends or where I'd willingly put in 12-hour days with a smile on my face. The only job I love that much is my writing, and ain't nobody paying me for that.

I've held a wide variety of jobs from radio to communications to software trainer to temporary worker. Maybe it's some of the experiences I've had on these jobs that make me so keen to workfor myself. I'll share just a few...

1. Worked with a woman who could not stay at work after sundown because her pet bird was afraid of the dark.

2. Worked on a project where daily we were greeted with notes and signs that usually stated the obvious. My favorite was posted in every stall in the women's bathroom. It read, "Please Do Not Urinate On The Seats"and was placed right next to the sign that reviewed the sexual harassment policy.

3. Actually taught a computer class where one of the machines 'blew up' during class! It gave new meaning to the term: computer crash.

4. Worked with a man who refused to wear shoes while training.

5. I worked for a woman who was so non-confrontational that instead of talking to the one person who dressed too casually on training days, she went to the store and bought a bunch of cheap suits and ugly bland separates for the five women on the staff!

6. I had a boss who did not trust technology, so in the late 90's, he still had accountants who kept records by hand and wrote out paychecks. This is the same man who never came into the office but would routinely call in and reduce staff members, including his daughter, to tears.

7. Speaking of technology, I did some freelance web design work for a guy who was truly clueless about computers. He'd heard from someone that deleting unnecessary files was an important part of being organized.Since he kept all of his work in the My Documents folder, he figured everything else was unnecessary. So he deleted everything else. All of it. When he was done, he couldn't even get his computer to boot up!

8. As a college intern at a local news radio station, one of the reporters would always find a reason for me to get a reference guide that was stored up high. I'd have to get the stepladder to get it. After several weeks of this, I realized he was doing this so he could check out my butt!

9. I spent one school year as a substitute teacher. Everyday was a challenge. One day, after making an entire first grade class take a group 'time-out,' I rhetorically asked, "What is wrong with you guys?" One bright little boy raised his hand, "I know. I know!" "What do you know?" I asked, forgetting that I had made that statement in the form of a question. "I know what's wrong with us. We don't have no home training." From the mouths of babes...

10. I had a co-worker who would sit on the other side of my cube and listen to my phone conversations. He would make comments about my side of the conversation as I was talking. "Why do you need a doctor's appointment, are you sick?" "Oh, I saw that movie last weekend, you're gonna love it."

11. I once worked with a fashion-challenged young lady with questionable hygiene. One day after lunch, I mentioned that she had a rather large item stuck in her hair. She picked it out, glanced at it and nonchalantly replied, "Oh, that's just a chicken bone from lunch."

12. Right after college, while looking for a real job, I took a seasonal position as one of Santa's helpers. In addition to working with one occasionally drunk Santa and a super-perky fellow elf who called herself Sparkle, I also had to spend my days listening to homeless men tell Mr. Claus, "I'll sit on your lap, if she can sit on mine!"

So, yeah, I'm definitely in the 60% that don't love their jobs. I could also be part of that Monday morning heart attack club (when I find another job). Okay, maybe not a heart attack, maybe just a Monday morning anxiety attack.

Labels: Work

posted by SDC @ 2:30 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Dating: The Abridged Version

Life is like a newspaper. Some people are featured in the sports page; others find themselves in the society page or the weekly religious column. Others still find that they often grace the front section or maybe business. Lots of people aspire for the lifestyle and entertainment pages. Me? I'm definitely a comic strip wedged somewhere between The Boondocks and Cathy.

I've had some of the worst first dates (and last dates) imaginable. Here are some of the Hall of Famers in The Sweet Dark and Crazy Cavalcade of Clowns!

The Flake: This guy actually used the 'I left my wallet' in the car line to get me to pay for dinner. Luckily, it was cheap. This is the same gentleman who said I should be flattered that he was interested in me at all because he 'normally goes out with white girls.' - That was supposed to be a compliment.

The Bigamist: While on our first date, he informs me that he's been married twice and has three kids. The oldest and youngest are by his first wife and the middle child is by the second wife (I'll let you think about that one for a minute). He then goes on to say that he doesn't believe in divorce and has never gotten one from either of his wives. Divorce was the 'white man's law' and it didn't apply to him. So while we were out, he was still married to two women.

Superfly, Private Eye: Met this guy through a personal ad. We were supposed to go to dinner and a Super Bowl party. We ended up at some dive bar filled with shady characters that he claimed were informants he worked with as a private investigator. In fact, while we were there, police came in looking for someone. And dinner? Dinner was set up on a rickety card table in the back. It consisted of a crock-pot of greasy chili, a box of Saltine crackers and an aluminum tray of sweaty cheese.

The Intellectual: This guy talked to me like I was Forrest Gump. I mean, talking very slowly and over enunciating every word so that I could understand him better. After dinner, we went to see a movie. The movie opened with a quote from the Bible "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul?" He leans over and says, "That's a quote from the Bible. Are you familiar with the Bible?" I furrowed my brow as if he had asked me to explain the theory of relativity and I replied, "Is that the book they have in the hotel rooms?"

The Tongue Rammer: As condescending as the Intellectual plus he had an annoying habit of talking about his mother ad nauseam. There was no love connection here. We had agreed to meet at Starbucks (where I bought my own coffee). We had a halfway decent conversation but there was nothing flirty in my comments or suggestive in my body language. I thought I was making it clear that I was not interested. I guess I thought wrong. As he walked me to my car, he stopped on a street filled with pedestrians, grabbed me and rammed his tongue down my throat right in front of Bath & Body Works. I think he thought it was some grand romantic gesture. I had to fight the urge to spit.

Liar, Liar: This guy would lie about what he ate for breakfast. We went out once and actually had a good time. After that, every time we had plans, he'd break them and give a lame excuse. Once, he said he was flying in from NYC to LA. His flight got in at 6:45 PM. He calls me at 10:00 PM and says that he and his boy (who picked him up from the airport) had decided to drive to Las Vegas and that's where they were. Giving him an out, I said, "Oh, you're on your way to Vegas." He says, "No, we're already here." He claimed to have driven to Vegas, from LAX, in less than 3 hours, on a Thursday evening with LA traffic. I wouldn't hear from him for months and then call me out of the blue wanting to go out but never following through. It was a big joke.

The last time he called, I gave him a lie of my own. I told him I'd rekindled a relationship with an old flame and we were getting married ... oh and I'm currently 4 months pregnant with twins. Finally, he stopped calling!

Mr. Dee-Jay: While volunteering to help out with Hurricane Katrina relief, I met Mr. DJ. We talked on and off for a few days and at the end of the week, he asked for my number. As soon as I gave it to him, he informed me that he'd definitely call in several weeks. You see, he was in a rehab program and he couldn't make or receive calls.

In several weeks, he did call. A few weeks later, he was out and home with mom. He still called. Most of the time I didn't answer; when I did, I'd talk for a quick minute and then rush off the phone. One night my cell phone rang at 12:43 AM. When I saw his number, I turned the phone off. That morning, I had FIVE messages on my cell phone. In the first one, he talked about how much he wished I could come by and pick him up; then he played for me the pre-Luther version of "If This World Were Mine." His second message was The Isley Brothers For the Love of You. The third was some song so old school that I didn't even recognize it. He spent the fourth message thumbing through the Bible for a passage that would describe a "Good Christian woman such as yourself." In his final message at 5:32 AM, he had found the passage. He quoted from Song of Solomon about how my breasts were like two fawns and how he wanted to climb me like a tower. How very Christian!!!

Labels: Men, Yahoos

posted by SDC @ 2:17 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Guilty Pleasures

Food
Hostess Cupcakes: The sad fact is that even on a diet, I can't completely give them up. However, I do know that there are 3 Weight Watchers points per cupcake!

Coke: I can't tell you how many times I've gotten that email about why water is better than Coke. And yes, it might be as strong as battery acid but, heaven help me, every time I read that email, it makes me want that brown sugary liquid Nirvana that much more. And it has to be Coke. Real Coke. Not that diet mess and not Pepsi. Never Pepsi!

Popcorn: As much as I dislike butter and margarine (I never butter bread, pancakes or anything else), I have to have my movie popcorn with that artery-clogging, cholesterol-laden, super-fattening disgusting 'butter flavor topping'. Pair it with a Coke and I'm floating on a cloud of satisfaction! When I've tried to go cold turkey, it hasn't been pretty. Several times, the withdrawal was so severe that I had to stop myself from distracting the popcorn-munching person in front of me, and grabbing a handful of theirs!

Movies
Comedy Classics: I can watch Airplane!, The Birdcage and Austin Powers (the first one) all day. In fact, when I'm sick and in bed, I do. Anytime, I hear or see the word 'Surely' I automatically think, "Stop calling me Shirley!" In fact, I can quote liberally from all three movies; not only that but I can do (and do do) the entire dance sequence from the opening of the first Austin Powers movie.

Music
Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go!: I am a true child of the 80's. So it shouldn't come as a surprise that many of my musical guilty pleasures revolve around Duran Duran, Wham! and Culture Club. My friend Steffi almost ruined Culture Club forever by telling me about all the homoerotic innuendo in their songs. Who knew 'betcha got a big gun, betcha know how to make it last forever' wasn't about a long afternoon at the shooting range?

Old School Cool: Some of my guilty pleasures also revolve around what the kids today call 'old school' music. Whodini, Kool Moe Dee and basically anyone I can do the wop to. And believe me, if I hear any of those old school rap tracks at the club, I will not hesitate to break out with the wop or the cabbage patch or the Reebok. How you like me now!?

Television
Glee: I cannot get enough of this show. I almost went crazy when the World Series had the nerve to play two of their stupid games on Wednesday night. Baseball? Really? It's funny, it's not PC and they burst into song. It's like a dream come true. (remember, I'm the one who tried several times to dance down a public street and get people to join me).

D'oh!: When I have to chose between the news and The Simpsons, it's no contest. As a result, I end up getting snippets of news in the morning while I get dressed. But current affairs ignorance is a small price to pay for some of the best comedy on TV.

King of the Hill: I can't explain. I don't understand it. I can't justify it. But I love this show. I watch it daily.

FOX: Sometimes I forget there are other networks (especially CBS!). Between Glee, 24, Lie to Me, American Idol and Hell's Kitchen, I'm almost always on Fox. I know, it's definitely time to step away from the remote and get a life.

Reno 9-11: When they went to arrest a Klansman for burning a cross and he said, "It's not a cross, it's a 'T' for tolerance." I laughed for days. The DVD's are best though because you can get the uncensored versions.

Labels: Movies, Music, Television

posted by SDC @ 2:06 PM 0 comments

Monday, November 16, 2009

Only in the Movies

I love, love, love, love, love the movies! In fact, I harbor a secret fantasy to be dropped into a musical about my life (that way I'd be the star). I could be feeling down and break out into song. And then as I'm walking down the street singing, subtly at first, I'll do a few dance moves. Then strangers, who know the song and the moves will join me. It would be amazing!!!

Of course, that ain't gonna happen. I have tried doing a few dance moves while walking down the street but no one else knew the choreography. I just got weird looks. Anyway, here are a few other things that only happen in the movies.

Reel Life: You are on the run and forced to change your appearance. Armed with nothing but a dull razor or a rusty pair of scissors and a $2 bottle of peroxide, you'll emerge from the bathroom with a do-it yourself haircut that rivals the best Beverly Hills salon.
Real Life: The uneven spotty cut will leave you looking more conscpiuous than ever. In fact, you'll like someone who should be begging for change.

Reel Life: You've changed your hair, now it's time to change your clothes. Inevitably, you'll end up breaking into the home of someone who is EXACTLY your size and shares a similar taste in clothes.
Real Life: Maybe you'll run into someone who has a pair of earrings that fit!

Reel Life: No matter what the score is at half-time, there is no deficit that can't be overcome with a rousing speech.
Real Life: I'm from Cleveland and I'm a Browns fan. Need I say more?

Reel Life: The bad guy has been trying to hunt you down the ENTIRE movie. Now, with a loaded gun pointed directly at you, instead of just taking a shot or two, he has to stand there, confess to the crime, and tell you his entire life story including his master plan for finally killing you.
Real Life: Bang, Bang, you're dead. Shoot first, talk later.

Reel Life: You're being chased by the bad guy or the evil undead killer (Jason, Freddy…), yet you leave your high heel shoes on!
Real Life: The shoes are the first thing to go.

Reel Life: You are running (in the aforementioned heels) across a flat clean surface and you manage to trip and fall over NOTHING several times.
Real Life: If there is nothing to trip over, you won't trip. When is the last time you tripped over your own feet? And if you are tripping over your feet, lose the damn heels!

So, what have you noticed that can only happen in the movies?

Labels: Movies

posted by SDC @ 2:56 PM 1 comments

Friday, November 13, 2009

Why???

Why, when I call a business, do I have to give all of my information to the automated system and then turn around and give it all over again to the person who eventually answers the phone? What was the point?

Why do people give me strange looks when I tell them I don’t have kids but they don’t look at me strangely when I say that I’ve never been married?

Why does the bank charge me a $35 fee if my account is overdrawn five days or more? Clearly, I don’t have any money, so what good is another charge going to do?

Why do the cutest shoes hurt the most?

Why is poker all of the sudden considered a sport? If you can be fat and still play, it’s not a real sport. It’s a card game. You sit on your ass and play it. Is Scrabble a sport? What about Monopoly? I get more exercise taking a bath.

Why do people think that just because they have kids - kids that I have either never met or kids that I don’t get pictures of or know anything about - that I should be shelling out for Christmas gifts for them. Newsflash: If I can’t pick your child out of kiddie line-up don’t expect a gift.

Why does asparagus make your pee smell funky?

Why do thuggish looking men step to me? What about me makes them think that I would be interested in some doo-rag-sporting, pants-sagging, wife-beater-or-throwback-jersey wearing, can’t-put-a-decent-sentence-together Negro?

Why does my father leave voicemail messages that begin with “This is your father,” as if I wouldn’t recognize the voice?

Labels: Rant

posted by SDC @ 2:37 PM 0 comments

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Facebook Faux Pas

Social Networking is all the rage and I’m kind of sort of getting into it. I had a Twitter account but quickly figured out that tweeting was pretty much a waste of time. Professionally, I am “Linked In” and I’ve also been using Facebook more often. So it’s with Facebook in mind that I make the following suggestions and observations.

Pay Attention to Profile Pictures
Try to find something flattering. Find something that makes you look good. If your Facebook photo could be used in a drivers license or a workplace badge photo then it isn’t a good photo.

And while we are on the subject, stay away from web cam photos. I have yet to see a flattering web cam picture. Not only is it almost always too close up and from some bizarre head-on angle, but most of the time people have this “Is this web cam really working?” facial expression that just isn’t becoming.

Finally, I know several people who are well into their 40s. Yes, these people are older than me, but you couldn’t tell by looking at their photos. If that’s all you had to go on, you’d assume they were at least 20 years younger. Try to find a picture that was taken in this century.

Behave!
A lot of times potential employers, potential mates and anyone and everyone else want to Google you to see what they find. If you are over 25, the drunken party photos are no longer cute or appropriate. They just look pathetic.

Likewise, watch what you say because you never know who’s reading.” But my profile is private,” you say. Sure it is. But what’s stopping some ‘friend’ from copying something from your wall and sending it to Lord knows who else. Also, Facebook has not disabled the copy feature on photos, so anyone can copy any of your photos and circulate it.

Friends
Not everyone is your friend. Think twice before friending exes, bosses and people like church members. Personally, I’d think twice before I friended family. I accepted my dad’s friend request. Big mistake. He’s my dad, not my friend.

Finally, cyber friends and Facebook friends are great but you should have real friends too. Friends you can actually reach across a table and slap if need be. I know a few people who open up Facebook in the morning and stay all day. In fact, they stay on until they are ready to fall asleep which, of course, is when they send the “Goodnight FB family!” message. Touching off a cyber scene that would impress John Boy from The Waltons.

Just go to bed!

Labels: Internet Crap

posted by SDC @ 2:27 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Nativity Again?

I was a girl, maybe 9 or 10. We didn’t go to church every Sunday but we went more or less regularly. Sometimes we’d even get their early enough for me to attend Sunday School.

It was the Christmas season and, of course, we were talking about the birth of Christ, the Baby Jesus. Well, I knew a little bit about the birds and the bees so I understood the concept of the Virgin Birth. I knew that Mary got pregnant without having sex.

Flash forward to a few days later. I had a stomach ache. It was a really bad stomach ache. And I thought about my aching stomach. And I thought about Sunday School. And I thought about the Virgin Mary.

Then I got scared. I wasn’t ready for this. Why me? How could this be? In a matter of minutes, I had worked myself into a pretty good tizzy. When my mother entered the living room, she was immediately concerned.

“What is the matter?” She said, in that way that mothers have.

With my hands on my stomach, I looked her dead in her eyes and told her my theory, “I think I’m pregnant with the Baby Jesus.”

This is where my mom earned a ton of Good Mom Points. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t smirk. She didn’t even smile. She said, “I don’t think that’s it but let’s try and find out why your stomach is aching.”

I’m sure she laughed her ass off when she told her friends about it.

Labels: Christmas, Family, Memories

posted by SDC @ 2:20 PM 1 comments

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Christmas Memory #2

As I mentioned yesterday, as a kid, like most kids, I was a huge fan of Santa Claus. I believed. I made a list. I checked it. He checked it twice. I wasn’t naughty, well… most of the time I was nice. Okay, sometimes I was really naughty but I always left good cookies with cold milk in hopes that the big guy would overlook the naughty occasions. Come Christmas morning, everything I wanted was right there. It was a good system. I didn’t see any need to rock the boat.

My cousins, the twins, thought differently. They lived across the street and had looked under the crawl space of their house and found several gifts. They were convinced that if I did the same thing at my house, I’d hit pay dirt as well.

I was always up for a little adventure, so we waited until the coast was clear and headed down under. There wasn’t much there and just as we were about to leave, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. It was Candi!

It was exactly the doll I wanted. You could color her hair and everything! That was all we found but I was so excited! In fact, I was so excited that my mother asked the reason for my very good mood. I told her I’d tell her if she could keep it a secret. She said she could, so I told her.

She lied.

That evening at dinner, my dad asked what I had done that day and I told him not much. Then he said that he’d heard that I’d found something. I looked at my mom, my eyes tinged with betrayal. She just shrugged.

Dad: “I guess this means you don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore.”

“No!” I exclaimed. Sure I was in the third or fourth grade but the fact remained that Santa delivered the goods. I asked and he made sure that I received. And, remember, I had only found one gift. I was still expecting Santa to deliver the rest.

Dad continued, “So how do you think you will get any gifts now?”

“No! No!” I said as I began to cry. “I BELIEVE!”

“Well, I don’t know what will happen this year then, since you don’t believe in Santa anymore.”

At this point tears were streaming down my little round face as I imagined a tree devoid of any gifts. It would be the Saddest Christmas Ever! All I could say through my sobs was, “I Believe. I BELIEVE!! Please!!!”

“I Believe. I BELIEVE!! Please!!!” over and over again.

I barely heard my dad when he said he was returning Candi to the store. I didn’t care. I wanted Santa! I wanted Christmas!

Well, I got Christmas. But I didn’t get Santa. And, I didn’t get Candi.

In retrospect, I can’t believe that my parents traumatized their only child like that. That shit was wrong.

Labels: Christmas, Family, Memories

posted by SDC @ 2:17 PM 0 comments

Monday, November 9, 2009

Christmas Memory #1

I was a big fan of Santa. A really big fan. I had seen all the movies, read the books, sung the songs. I knew Santa. As always I was excited to see the big guy. I was about six and in my true fashion, I had my list prioritized and ready.

Mom and I headed to the mall. The line was long as we waited. I couldn't see him at first but as we got a bit closer, I became confused and dismayed.

I said, "Mom, who is that?" As I pointed at the man who claimed to be Santa.

"That's Santa Claus." My mother responded confidently.

With equal confidence, I responded, "No it's not. That's not Santa."

"Why sure it is," she said, still trying to pull the wool over my eyes.

"No its not," I responded refusing to fall for the old okie-doke.

I explained, "Santa Claus is a white man." Pointing to the impostor, I exclaimed, "He's BLACK."

Trying to quiet my increasingly loud revelations, my mother tries to explain. She says, "Santa can't be everywhere, sometimes he sends people to help."

Even as a child, I had misgivings about going through 'the help.' I was used to dealing with the owner. I wanted to talk to the big guy. Not only did I want to talk to the big guy, I wanted to alert my fellow children to the game they were trying to run on us!

How dare you!

I was mad. I couldn't believe they were trying to pass this guy off as the real deal. I was an expert. I'd seen all the televisions shows: Rudolph, Frosty, The Grinch, A Year Without A Santa Claus, when was Santa black? He might have been a redhead in his younger days but he was never a Negro!

After much protesting and before I could start a Black Santa Revolt, my mother pulled me out of line and took me to see a more suitable Santa.

To this day, the thought of a Black Santa makes me want to slap someone.

Labels: Christmas, Family, Memories

posted by SDC @ 3:01 PM 0 comments

Friday, November 6, 2009

What Not To Say at the Corporate Christmas Party

It’s a week after Halloween and I saw a Christmas commercial! Then, as I’m driving down the street, one of my fool neighbors already has the Christmas lights up. WTF??? So that got me thinking about the Worst Corporate Christmas Party Experience Ever!

The Players
Ron: Super cool, laid-back guy I worked with who had that Jon Stewart-like sense of humor. A really nice guy. (Ron’s fiancée Suzy was there as well also super-cool and laid-back).

Kendall: My boss, super-cool, laid-back project manager who never really managed the project but was cool because he let me run the show.

Lola: My friend and super-cool, laid back coworker.

Joe: Not super-cool or laid-back but more of an asshole and ass-kisser who needed to just come out and admit he was gay because we all knew it anyway.

Jabba: As in short for Jabba the Hutt. The bitchy, rude and abrasive contractor we worked with who was anything but super-cool and laid-back! Plus, she actually did resemble Jabba the Hutt from the Star Wars movies.

So we are at the party, appetizers were over and dinner had been served. Drinks had been flowing for a while and everyone was still nicely buzzed but not much else. We were all standing around, Ron, his fiancée, Kendall, Jaba and I.

Ron makes one of his usual witty comments. We all laugh and then, it happened.

Jabba says, “Ron, why don’t you stick your head up my vagina for about a week and then tell me what you think.”

Of course, this was followed by an awkward silence. And in those few seconds I saw.

Ron, for the first time, at an absolute loss for words.
Suzy had a look that said, “What the hell did you just say to my man?”
Kendall turned beet red.
And all the while the urge to laugh so hard that rum and coke would spew forth from my nose was fast approaching. I excused myself and immediately recounted the events to Lola and Joe.

The moral of the story kids is not to get wasted at the company party. Oh and don’t be such an ass that people call you Jabba the Hutt behind your back.

Labels: Foot In Mouth, Work

posted by SDC @ 2:56 PM 0 comments

Thursday, November 5, 2009

OMG! Whatever!

I was raised an only child. However, my father remarried when I was in my 20's and he and his wife had a little girl, my sister, when I was 25. She's 16 now, driving and sexually active. You can't tell her anything because in her mind she's grown.

On her Facebook the other day, she posted, "think before you speak...cuz you sound juvenile," on her Wall. Okay, she got miffed at me because I IMed her and laughed because as I said, "You are a juvenile."

In her words, whatever!

Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know you were grown! Hey, why don't we go to the club this weekend? Or maybe you can just stop by the liquor store and pick us up a little something with your real ID because you are so grown! Oh, right, you aren't old enough to do that. Oops! My bad!

Hey, did you vote earlier this week? I mean, as adults, it is our obligation to vote. Sorry, I forgot that you have to at least be 18 to vote. And, my high school math is kind of rusty but 16 isYOUNGER than 18 right?

Boy, I'm stressed about having to pay for my own rent/mortgage, utilities, car payment, and make sure I have food in the refrigerator and gas in the car. And since I lost my job, I have no health insurance. What's that? You understand? I'm sure you do. I mean that part-time job at the ice cream shop is so taxing. I mean, what would you ever do if you lost it?

Let me break it down. Dick and a driver's license doesn't make you a grown-up.

Labels: Family, Rant

posted by SDC @ 2:51 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Smackdown!

Joey and I truly compliment each other ... because we are both quirky and embarassing. And he embarassed me again with his signature move today.

Normally, I don't embarass him in public. I'm sure he doesn't know what to think when I grab him and throw an inpromptu 'dance party.' I realize that when I talk to him in my crazy made-up doggie-talk language, he doesn't understand it anymore than he understands English. And I'm not quite sure he likes it when I take his name and drop it into some hip-hop or old school R&B song (the latest is a Joey-fied version of the Black Eyed Peas Boom Boom Pow) - but I like to think he kind of does : ).

In my defense though, he embarasses me too - and its usually in public. When walking, he runs up people's driveways and barks at them, while they are minding their own business in their own yards. I've already blogged about his propensity to want to poop in yards where people are outside and able to watch him.

But there is one thing he does that absolutely takes the cake: the booty-smackdown. Here's what happens. We're walking and we come across another small dog. They sniff each other and walk around each other. Then, out of nowhere Joey will swing around and slap the other dog in the face with his butt. The other dog usually just stares in bewilderment. The chichaucha today did that. And what did Joey do? He butt-smacked him several more times.

If he were kickboxing, it would probably look like a roundhouse kick. Everyone laughs and no victim of the booty-smackdown has ever seen anything like it. Whose dog smacks other dogs in the face with his booty? Mine does. And it's so embarassing.

Labels: Dog

posted by SDC @ 2:02 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

It’s Stupid … But It’s Funny

My friend Cookie is a photographer and I’ve been after her for months to take some updated photos of me. Well, we got together this past Friday and went to a park near my house to do a little photo shoot.

Well, a little girl was having her Halloween party and they were playing all of the classic Halloween songs: Monster Mash, The Time Warp, Thriller, and then that Rockwell classic. Yeah, Rockwell never became a household name but most people know his song, “I always feel like somebody’s watching me…” (watch it here)

Anyway as Rockwell played, I got ‘distracted’ by something on the other side of the parking lot and I began to stare at it.

Cookie called me several times, “Hey!” “Hey!”

But I didn’t respond. I just kept staring.

Finally, she turns and looking in the direction that I was staring in.

Annoyed, she says, “What are you looking at?”

Slowly, I point across the parking lot and I said, “I think that’s the money I could have saved if I had switched to Geico.”

Ha! Ha! Ha!

Labels: Friends, Random Shit

posted by SDC @ 3:08 PM 0 comments

Monday, November 2, 2009

Yahoos in the News!

It's that time again! Time for another installment of Yahoos in the News!

Levi Johnston: His original claim to fame was knocking up vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin's daughter. But no! That wasn't enough. He needed another 15 minutes of fame. So he started hanging out with D-List celeb Kathy Griffin and agreed to appear in Playgirl, a magazine that - despite the name - is primarily read by gay men. Anyway, now he's trashing Palin as a parent and claims to have information about some possible illegal activities by the then governor. Sure, because governors always share the details about illegal activities with the teenage boyfriend of their daughter. Go back to Alaska ya Yahoo!

Hilary Swank: She says in an article in Marie Claire that she often walks around nude in front of her boyfriend's 6-year old son. Despite the fact that she probably looks like a boy with small breast naked, that is just plain weird and TMI. Put your clothes on in front of the kid, ya Yahoo!

Roman Polanski: Sure the statute of limitations on the statutory rape of a minor have elapsed. I mean, hey, it was the 70's right? I'm sure everyone was probably plying 13-year olds with pills and champagne before having sex with them. But the fact remains that he plead guilty (to unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor) and then fled - not exactly the act of an innocent man. So yeah, they need to haul his ass back and put his cowardly ass in jail. If he was some dude from down the street, this would be a non issue. Man up and accept the consequences for your actions, ya perverted Yahoo!

Khloe and Lamar Odom: Did anyone doubt that this whole wedding thing was a huge publicity stunt? I was watching E! the other day and they are hyping up the two-hour special of Kim and Khloe Take Miami all about the wedding. Is anyone surprised? But I shouldn't be sarcastic and cynical, I mean who I am to talk about two Yahoos in love!

Labels: Yahoos

posted by SDC @ 3:02 PM 0 comments

Sunday, November 1, 2009

I'm Too Old to Care

I'm 41 and it dawned on me the other day, I'm not that young anymore. Then I realized I'm old enough to play Remember When. For example...

I remember when gas was less than $1 and the thought of it being over $2 was part of some freakish future vision.
I remember when bending over in your jeans and showing your ass crack was embarrassing. People laughed at you!
I remember when you could buy a stamp for like 15 cents. In fact, I remember when you needed to buy stamps to write checks and then actually mail your checks through the mail. It wasn't snail mail, just mail.
I remember when a Value Meal was $2.99.
I remember when MTV was Music Television and they actually played music videos. Did you know that VH-1 stood for Video Hits - 1 and not Very Humiliating Ones? And if you have seen even one episode of Tool Academy, Real Chance at Love or any other of those non-reality shows you know exactly what I mean.
I remember when The Year 2000 seemed far away!
I remember when, in order to be famous, you actually had to have some sort of talent. You had to know how to act, sing, play an instrument and if you weren't talented or good-looking, you could run for public office. But you had to do something more than making a sex tape, appearing on a 'reality' show or just being born rich.

In addition, to playing Remember When, I can also play I Don't Know and I Don't Care. For instance, I don't know any of the cast members on any of those CW shows and I don't care that I don't know.

I don't know what the big deal is about Lady Gaga and I don't care.
I don't know why anyone wants to watch people raise their kids on TV. Don't most people have their hands full raising their own kids? Why do you want to put them to bed and then watch some other people raising their kids?
I don't know why anyone cares about Miley Cyrus. So what? Why did I have to hear on the news that she canceled her Twitter account? I don't care and neither do other adults who actually watch the news.
I don't know why in the hell people think Lil Wayne is talented and I, for damn sure, don't understand what anyone finds attractive about a guy who looks like The Predator.

Labels: Random Shit, Television, Yahoos

posted by SDC @ 12:05 AM 0 comments

About Me

Name: SDC
Home: United States
About Me: I'm a youthful 44-year old, who is infectiously funny, dangerously smart, wildly creative, hopelessly math-phobic, tactfully honest, occasionally politically incorrect, and cute to boot!
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