So this is where Tootie’s hair ended up after the show ended…
Who has two thumbs and is going to see Depeche Mode?
Now, normally — I wear my hair either like this:
Or like this:
But one day, I happened to wear my hair like this:
Now, for some reason, one co-worker has never felt compelled to say anything about my previous hair styles. But this last one, she just felt the need to compliment (backhandedly), informing me that I look “professional” with my hair straightened.
I had to stop myself from having an external moment like this:
To having an internal moment like this:
Despite the fact that I’m pretty much one of two people there who dresses impeccably well, my hair, ignoring it’s neatness, was not professional enough for her on a daily basis. Unless it was straightened.
Fuck you and your hillbilly logic.
No. They aren’t the same person. Though this photo does not help the suspicions.
You’ve never seen them in the same room together, have you?
(food for thought. Now, I’m hungry).
Sean Bean is the Susan Lucci of life when it comes to movies.
He is always losing (it).
I can’t recall the last film or series of seen him in where he’s remained alive throughout the entire thing.
Are you mad?
I hope not. I know, I’ve abandoned you (the one person that reads this blog — two if you count my other sister — and if there are more than who I think reads it — yes, that includes you, too — Yay. Welcome back. Feel free to leave comments).
The past two months have not been full of adventure or anything grandiose. So, there goes my excuse for my absence. It’s all been challenging, introspective, and just mighty frustrating. Thank God for gummi bears because these little fellas have been getting me through (I can’t afford booze. Well, the fancy kind that comes in a box with a spout).
I started a new job that has its own set of challenges that I thought I would have escaped (at least temporarily) from the ones that were emotionally and mentally plaguing at my previous job. Now, it’s just fresh dramz that I never expected.
It’s to the extent where two co-workers are not talking to each other because of an issue that deals with coupon hoarding.
It’s like Team (insert name here) or Team (insert name here). And people are trying to mark territory on the new girl (that’s me).
I didn’t sign up for this. Well, I did — but you know what I mean.
Not to mention my commute is an hour (both ways) — so the extra money I am making is now being spent on fuel.
And then there’s the people. THE PEOPLE. The rude ass people that think I’m their personal assistant. A personal assistant who is not on any kind of monetary retainer that is associated with them.
Then there’s the Rain Prancer.
You read that correctly. Rain Prancer. He offered to do a rain dance for me…when it was raining. He is also blind, but manages to ride a bike and assault cars with his cane to those that aren’t “sharing the road” .
He looks at dirty pictures of himself on Facebook, but doesn’t know how to print.
Remember how I said he was blind?
This is my life.
On top of that, a very close family member passed away, and yes — that godforsaken trial in Sanford, Florida did take an emotional toll. So much so that I lost two people who I considered friends over it. Maybe more, but they haven’t said anything (to my face — as yet) that rings to the sentiment that every black person in this world gets what they deserve because of how they “are.”
I was told that.
So while I was supposed to be writing my godfather’s eulogy, I was dealing with people telling me that I wasn’t worth shit, and I deserve the treatment and the discrimination that happens because of the fault of others.
That’s like me saying I am given the right to hate every white person in the world because of the racism that I’ve encountered. Oh, and because there are white people in the KKK. So that’s your fault and I hate you for it. But I don’t. Because I know not everyone white person in this world is racist.
However, all black people in America are thugs, rapists, murderers, and thieves.
Each and everyone one of us down to our core.
So, needless to say, I’ve not had the mood to blog. However, I am hoping that will change soon.
On my hour drive home today, I heard one of my favorite songs.
When I first heard it, though I was only in my early teens, I knew that I’d experience this feeling and this life for a time in my life. I just never thought it would be as long as it has been. And now, this is my life. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
From 9 to 5 I have to spend my time at work.
My job is very boring, I’m an office clerk.
The only thing that helps me pass the time away,
Is knowing I’ll be back at Echo Beach someday.
However, I have no Echo Beach. However, I’m expecting my Echo Beach to be more than a beach and a memory, which is a fruition, realization, an actualization of my goals. My dreams. Happiness.
If it feels like a permanent vacation, then I know I’m doing the right thing.
I hope that comes true.
*ha. Posted the wrong link earlier. Though I will be posting The Dead Milkmen at some point in the future.
One of the worst pick up lines I have ever heard.
Of course it was used on me in Miami, where else would guys think I’d fall for that shit?