Being proud

About 5 or 6 years ago, while pumping gas, someone approached me with a petition. The petition was to make same sex marriage illegal; way before all the brouhaha that's in the news today. I just wanted dude to get up out my face, so I signed it without hesitation. After dude walked away, I knew damb well I didn't agree with what the petition stated. To this day, signing that petition still haunts me.  Why?  Because I have people in my life who I love dearly that are fighting for what that petition wanted to make illegal.

This year, I attended the Pride parade in my city for the first time and I had a blast.

She had one of the best views of the parade.

People were out and about, proud of who they were and didn't give a damb about folk judging them. And that's how it should be...everyday!  A weekend in June shouldn't be the only time someone like a soror of mine (Yeah, I'm talking you too, BGLOs*) can be proud of who she is. One weekend in June shouldn't be the only time she can feel comfortable when holding her girlfriend's hand while walking down the street.

Will we ever get to the point where my peeps can be proud everyday? When marriage between those of the same sex is simply called "marriage," just like marriage between a man and woman? I don't know. But, I do know my family, friends and sorors will always have my support.

And that's something that I'm very proud of.

K to the...

*BGLOs = Black Greek Letter Organizations

Joys of commuting

Though my daily commute to and from work has been reduced by an hour due to the location of the new gig, I still have to scratch my head at times.

Not just because I have a dry scalp, at times.

I cross about 3 railroad crossings and a draw bridge en route to work. On the way to work, I was caught by a freight train, AND a draw bridge. On the way home, I was caught by two freight trains on two different tracks. By far, the worst commute I've had since starting the new job.

So, I thought.

This morning, I was caught by a freight train at the usual spot.  No biggie...except the train was stalled on the tracks for about 5 minutes before proceeding its long auss along. About 7 minutes later, the gates comes up.  FREEDOM!

No.

Forty-seven seconds later, the gates come back down. That's right...another damn freight train. At this point, I know I'm going to be late, so I email my coworkers to give a heads up.  The train passes and I proceed.  I'll only be 10 minutes late.

No.

About 5 miles later, I'm at the drawbridge and it's up.

Sh*t!

I see a small boat coming from the left. I'm thinking "raising the bridge was not necessary". Then, I look to the right and here comes a barge moving at a glacial pace.  Ah!  So it was necessary.  At this point, I'm, straight up, on chill mode, with the engine off and started typing this blog post.

By the time you read this, I will be at work, hoping my commute home will be way smoother.  My coworkers and I had a good chuckle about this situation.  One of them (who has to hug us if we'll be out off the office for more than 3 days -_-), had the nerve to remind me how I can go about winning a perfect attendance award.

I haven't given two flies on dog poo about perfect attendance since high school.  Man, please.

Happy Friday!

K to the...

P.S.  I really hope with this upcoming hot weekend, my hometown won't be in the national news due to shootings. *crosses fingers*

Love & Basketball Chronicles: You gon' learn today!

I'm not the type who talks mess when on the court.  Actually, I don't say much, aside from typical teammate talk ("Shoot the J.  SHOOT IT!") or calling out the score.  However, on a fine Sunday morning following a night of tomfoolery while celebrating another Dirty Flirty Thirty birthday, I was talking.  I was getting fed up with these two dudes who happen to have the same name.  So, to protect the guilty, they'll be referred to as "Young Money" and "Old Money".

Young Money
Young Money is about 6 inches taller, and at least 20 pounds heavier than me.  He constantly talks mess to me on the court and I usually ignore it.  However, on this fine Sunday morning, ignoring him wasn't happening.  YM was trying to get his Baby Shaq on because he just KNEW he could score on me due to this size advantage.  In the midst of all the action, I calmly stated "[YM], you might not wanna underestimate my size or strength. It's not a good look for you."

He laughed.

And scored 0 points when posting me up.  I tried told him!

Old Money
Old Money is in his 50s and is in pretty good shape.  We always end up playing D on each other when we're on opposite teams.  For the past month, I've noticed he's been getting extra frisky with his defense.  One day, I felt hands all over my body, like there was a sign on my glutes that said "FREE FEELS!"  After this instance of on-court molestation, I started to pay more attention to how he plays defense on others.  Yeah...major difference.

So, on this same fine Sunday morning, I was being hacked by OM.  I even heard him say "You're not getting sh*t today" under his breath.  O_O  I got fed up and called a foul on him (something I rarely do).  Then, I spoke up about his hack attacks on me compared to everyone else.  Of course, he denied it, but I wasn't backing down.

The next time he was on defense, he was like 3 feet away from me.

I hope I'm able to go back to my quiet self when I step back on the court.

K to the...

Cubicle Chronicles: Debbie Downer On Duty

As you all know, I started a new gig last month.  It was a bit frustrating at first trying to play catch up AND learn, but I'm starting to find my groove.  I work at a children's hospital and the environment is so friendly.  Plus, how can you be upset when you randomly run into someone dressed in a costume to entertain the children?

There are a few people who have been working at my job for 20, 30 years.  It's like a big family and, aside from the interns, it seems I may be the youngest...again.  Within this family, there is a Debbie Downer, with whom I work closely.  She hates her job and has no problem telling people this...even our boss.  O_O

Every time she talks to me she mentions:

• how she's hated her job since her first day, 4 1/2 years ago;
• how she's trying to get out;
• how she can't believe my previous job wasn't better;
• how I should have done my research

One day, we were in the bathroom together and as I was washing my hands, she goes "So, this place was the only place that replied when you were searching for jobs?"  Like, she was just disgusted that I wanted to work where I'm working.  Look, I just want to wash my hands, ma'am!

I'm at the point where I'm scared to have a convo with her because it'll be full of her complaining and me saying "aaawww" as I try to keep my nonverbal from saying "Please, shut the hell up!"

Cheese and rice!

K to the...

Love & Basketball Chronicles: The Thirst Is Back

I don't know if it's because I've been coming to the gym solo dolo, or if folk are just being bold; but, maugs have been flirting more than usual on the court the past few months.  Per usual, I blow it off.  Thanks to my experiences at the YMCA, I have no interest in conversing with guys outside of the gym.

So yesterday, after a wack hooping session due to not winning any games, I was off to the side watching the half-court games, resting.  This dude - we'll call him Lt. Cedric Daniels - sits near me.  After talking about the games we just finished, he decided to get up in my business.  The conversation goes as follows:

Daniels: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me:  No.  And I'm not looking either.
Daniels: Don't wanna be bothered?
Me:  Nope, not at all
Daniels:  We should hook up. You should hang with me at the lakefront
Me: *acts like I'm so into the game I'm watching that I don't hear him.*
Daniels: So, can we hook up?  What's your name?
Me: Kenya
Daniels: I'm [redacted]
Me: ...
Daniels: So can we hook up?
Me:  I don't hook up with anyone I hoop with up here.
Daniels: I don't really go here.  Someone hooked me up with this gym.  I just started going here.  You've been here longer than me, right?
Me: About a year.
Daniels:  So we can't hook-up?

Thankfully, at this point, someone came over talking ish and joking around.  So, I was able to successfully Euro-step out that unnecessary auss convo.  He also thought because I was shooting around with this one dude who comes on the court smelling like molded cheese from 1998, that the stinky guy was my boyfriend.  Negroid, GO GET SOME BUSINESS!

I need guys to understand that not all women want to be in a relationship.  If I say I don't want to be bothered, that doesn't mean try harder.  Maybe if he still thought I was 18, I wouldn't have dealt with this.

K to the...

"Hair nappy, but I'm happy. Pocket full of dough!"

Good morning Saints, Ain'ts and Taints!  A lot has happened since I last wrote on here...and so fast.  But today?  TODAY, DAMMIT!?!  Today marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life:  It's the first day at my new job.  *throws Swingline-stapler-shaped confetti*

I worked at the last gig for 4 1/2 years, so this is huge, for me.  I am stepping out of my comfort zone and I'm nervous...yet, excited.  My fellow Dolphin, Tea, had asked if the Cubicle Chronicles would continue.  Yes, they will.  So, stay tuned for that.

Congratulations to me!  *raises glass* L'Chaim!

K to the...

P.S.  Yes, the title is from a Bow Wow song.  It's the first lyric that came to mind when trying to think of a title.  Fight me.

Wait...what did they say?

As a person who loves music, I admit that I don't catch on to lyrics of certain songs very well.  I will make up some ish and go along with it like what I made up came straight from the liner notes.  After listening DJ Hash's radio show last week, I was reminded of this flaw.

Last week, DJ Hash did a tribute to Timbaland and played some bangers from the late 90s and early 00s.  One of the songs he played was Nicole Wray's "Make It Hot."  In case you forgot how the song goes:

My fave part of the song is when Missy glides her finger-wave rocking self onto the track and raps the following:

I'm sitting
On the side
Of the curb
With a pocket
Full of herb
Ion't know
If y'all heard
I'm high as a bird
I can fly like Kelly,
I glide like skates
Me with no Timbaland is like Puff with no Ma$e
Wait
Hold up
Wait a minute
Whatchu say?
Back it up
Give me space
Who dat?
Nicole Wray
By the way
DJ
Better play
All day
Make the whole world say
Damn they suck a lei.

Wait, what?  Suck a Lei!?  Rapgenius says that last line is "Damn, this sucker Wray."  That sounds more accurate, but I think sucking a lei is funnier.  Therefore, I will continue to say "Damn they suck a lei"

Fight me.

K to the...