Reoccurring Question

As many of you know by now, I have selective memory. I don't remember a lot from my childhood. There are some very significant events that stand out, and there are a few minor details that I remember, but for the most part, I don't have a lot of memories before the 6th grade. And even those are a little thin.

I don't remember being a "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" child, or a "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? ARE WE THERE YET?" kid, but lately I've been asking almost anyone who will entertain the question, "How do you know when you've gotten to where you're supposed to be?". Since I've bored my family and friends with the philosophical exercise, I now pose the question to you.

Today, the question arises because I decided to text message a friend from the past that I'll call Thor. Thor and I were very good friends in college and I think we both thought that at some point we would end up married. In the past few years, Thor has gotten married and became father to an adorable baby boy. Initially when he called to tell me about his wife, I felt the ever constant wind escape from my sails. I think I was in a small state of shock. I was just so sure that he was the one. How could I have been so wrong? But after time passed, I could see how that relationship might not have been right for me - at least that's how I reasoned the shock away.

A couple of years ago, Thor called me to tell me that he thought about me a lot and thought that maybe he made a mistake by marrying his wife. Ah ha! Maybe I wasn't so wrong about him. But a few days into my daydreamy bliss, he deflated my sails again by saying that while he wasn't completely happy, he couldn't leave his wife and kids. At that point, I decided that I never wanted to talk to him again. Wouldn't care if our paths never crossed.

But last night, I had a dream about him. It made me wonder where he was and what he was doing. I sent him a text that simply said "Merry Christmas", and from that, a conversation ensued. It was so nice to hear his voice. And while I know he's not "the one", it did make me wonder how you know when you've gotten to where you're supposed to be.

Am I supposed to be married with kids, or have I reached my final destination where that is concerned? Am I supposed to be doing something else with my education, or am I already where I'm meant to be?

Here's the rant: Why doesn't life come with a road map?!

The Best Christmas Ever

First off, I have to thank my friend Lyndsay over at "I Used To Be Witty" for yesterday's post called "Where Is Yoko?". Please run, don't walk, over and check her out. AND DON'T SKIP OVER THE VIDEO!

Noah's Mommy over at Project Mommyhood posted about a great sewing machine she is getting/got for Christmas. It was her post that inspired my posting today.

Answer me this, what is your absolute favorite Christmas present you've received and what was your most favorite gift to give?

I hate to admit this, because I know it would probably hurt my parents' feelings, but I don't remember too many Christmas presents I received as a kid. There was the year of the Cabbage Patch Doll. Cabbage Patch Dolls were THE hot gift that year. Parents were fighting and trampling over each other to get them for their kids. Stores couldn't keep them on the shelves. Somehow my mom managed to snag one for me and one for my sister. That was a good year. We did the happy dance all around the tree. I also vaguely remember a pink and green ESPIRIT sweatshirt and matching pants that I loved, but that's about the extent of my childhood Christmas present memory.

The best Christmas present I can remember getting as an adult is a completely different story. From the outset, I should say that my mom gives good presents. She doesn't always present them the best, a la the year that everything was still in shopping bags, but I know she usually puts thought into her gifts. She's a great giver of jewelry and she believes in only giving the good stuff. (I fully appreciate that!) Most of my great jewelry was a gift from her. But it was the Kitchen-Aid mixer she gave me that would top the list as the best Christmas gift ever.

I remember that she gave it to me in a black trash bag with a red bow on it (come to think about it, mom hasn't wrapped a gift in awhile!). And when I opened the bag and saw that mixer, I'm sure I did a happy dance that rivaled the Cabbage Patch Christmas. You see, I had been wanting a stand mixer for quite some time. I love to bake, but the hand mixer just wasn't cutting it anymore. The one my mother had was given to her as a wedding gift twenty-something years ago, and one of the mixers was badly bent. I didn't have my own mixer because I hadn't lived in my own space for quite awhile (story for a different post) and wouldn't have had the space or the use for one. I had been longing for one since I used one in my friend's house many moons ago. She taught me how to make cinnamon rolls and I was hooked, but there was no way I was going to make cinnamon rolls with a hand mixer. I'm sure I talked about wanting a stand mixer for quite some time. Somewhere along the line, Mom heard my plea and granted my wish for Christmas. I rank it as my best Christmas present because I use it all the time and every time I do, I think about my mom.

The best present I've ever given was, well, hmm..., I'm not really sure. I guess that's a completely subjective question. Maybe the question I should be asking is, what was the Christmas present you most enjoyed giving. There was the year that I gave my Mom a signed Romare Bearden print for Christmas. That was a lot of fun. Dad really enjoyed the iPod me and my sister gave him a few years ago. But I've given a gift this year that I think, is probably the most meaningful Christmas present I've ever given. I won't speak of it here, because I don't want the recipient to know what is coming.

I'll keep you posted.

Here's the rant: I hope my mom wraps at least one present this year.

25 Things

I was challenged to create a list of 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about myself by my friend, Kara, on Facebook. The following is the note I wrote in response to her challenge.

1. I am eating mac & cheese for lunch, which is very odd for me. I don't believe that mac & cheese is enough to make a meal, and I'm scared of eating too much starch - which is why I'm not a big bread eater either.
2. I sometimes regret having gone to law school. The knowledge is great, but the education wasn't really cost effective - at least not for me, not yet.
3. This time of year, I secretly wish my parents were still together. It's a completely selfish wish, but aren't we all entitled to at least one of those?
4. I'm not good at maintaining friendships. I've met a number of people over the years that I enjoyed being around and considered a friend during the period of time that we were in the same geographic space. But after we parted ways, I didn't keep in contact. Well, neither did they, now that I think about it. I think about them a lot (HHS folks, Bradley house mates, LDFers, UB folks), but I'm just not good at keeping up with people. Thank goodness for Facebook!
5. I'm scared that I'll never get married and that I'll grow old alone.
6. I want to have kids, but I don't want the stretch marks.
7. I want to do something that will land me in Ebony or Jet magazine. Since I was a kid, I've longed to accomplish something that would put my name in bold print on the Jet "Tickertape" page. This is really about my desire to do something big in the world. I want to make systemic change. I want the world to be a better place because of the work I do.
8. I absolutely adore my dog. Check her out! http://thetildyspot.blogspot.com/
9. I am immensely proud of my sister. She teaches children with autism in SE Washington, DC and is working on her Masters at the same time. She graduates from GWU in the spring. Woohoo!
10. I was not a good student in college. I practically slid by. I had a lot of personal tragedies during my five, yes, five years there.
11. I am currently going through orthodontic care. I had braces in middle/high school, but somewhere during my many relocations, I lost my retainer. My teeth shifted, and I was not happy about that. Since my Dad is a dentist, I was a little embarrassed that my smile wasn't as nice as it could be. I am now wearing an invisilign type process. Almost done. Loving it!
12. I'm bored with my life. I'm trying to figure out what big and exciting thing I should do next. Any suggestions?
13. If there is more than one light switch on a panel, I will do whatever I have to to be sure that they are all in the same position. I have a panel in my living room with three switches on it, and I've determined that it's impossible for them to be in the same position. Drives me a little batty.
14. I am confident that one day I will win the Mega Millions. When I do, I will erase my law school debt, buy a house and a car, and then I'll take care of my family's debts too. That's my practical list. After that, I'll travel like crazy and buy a few things that I secretly covet.
15. I want to move back to Virginia - maybe even to Lynchburg. I miss my family and hate being so far away from everyone.
16. I've been told that I have selective memory. I wouldn't know. :)
17. I am fiercely loyal. It's hurt me in the past, but there must be some sort of genetic wiring that causes me to stay that way, even when it causes me to get burned.
18. I have learned that sometimes, being honest is not what your friends want or need from you. I have one friend that I know will always tell me the truth and I have promised the same to her. With everyone else, when I have to, I choose my words very carefully.
19. I have a thing for cartoons; specifically Looney Tunes shorts and Disney movies. I'm 35 years old and still watch Bugs Bunny cartoons (on dvd) on Saturday mornings and I have a nearly complete collection of Disney movies on dvd.
20. I'm a hopeless romantic. I was ruined by Disney movies, Gershwin tunes, and the belief that a/the man should treat me as well as my Dad.
21. I think I might be addicted to blogging. It's such a cool way to anonymously connect with people and I love to write. Blogging has become a great outlet for me to exercise my writing chops.
22. I have lots of great stories that involve famous people, but I'm always too self conscious to tell them.
23. I want to write a book and have it published.
24. I'm good at coming up with great ideas and never fully developing them. But I'm really good at encouraging people to develop their ideas.
25. I can't understand why it's so hard for people to understand that it's the little things in life that make us the happiest. I had a friend tell me the other day that he would be SO happy to get a Duncan Hines cake with chocolate icing for his birthday. How simple.

Dependency

I am a much better person when someone is depending on me. I hate to let down people. I was the kid whose parents could give me "that look" and reduce me to tears. I refuse to be the source of disappointment.

My bestest sistahgurlfriend has been going to boot camp workouts lately. She had a baby in April and is in the process of reclaiming her body. This morning it was 32 degrees where she lives, and she almost decided to skip boot camp, but something in her made her get up and go. She was proud of herself and I was immensely proud of her. She said, "I must be a little off to do this mess". I responded with, "It's called focus, I think".

But the more I think about it, the more I think it might be called determination and self reliance.

Here's the rant: When did I stop depending on myself? Why is it that I can walk the dog twice a day regardless of rain, shine, wind, sleet, snow, or hail, but I can't get it together to find a class that will help me be able to touch my toes again. Why am I always available to my friends in need, but I can't keep my checkbook balanced? What happened in my life that I stopped depending on me and why do I not feel hugely disappointed by that?

Why Can't I Get It Right?

Today, there's no set up. I'm going straight to the rant.

Money depresses me. I never have enough of it, which doesn't make sense to me because I have a good job with decent pay. It's as if I can't add and subtract or something. Maybe it's the crazy bank timing that throws me off. Maybe it's simply that I don't make enough to make ends meet. Whatever the reason, it seems like I'm constantly overdrawn. Today was payday; a day I look forward to because it offers me a little relief. The middle of the month payday is best because it's not completely devoted to my rent or bills. There's a little wiggle room. Nothing major. Just enough so that I don't have to count pennies or eat Ramen. But this time I don't have that. "My back is so far back it's on the other side of the wall." (Prince lyric reference, for those that aren't true fans.) Once my necessary bills are paid, I'll be lucky to have fifty bucks leftover for the next two weeks. And I haven't gotten my parents anything for Christmas yet.

I'm sick of Ramen.

Thank you for your attention. Please return to your holiday cheer.

At What Point Do You Take Action?

Thanks for all of the comments yesterday! I was really excited to see that I prompted a few people to think AND respond. Thanks again.


I don't want to go into too much detail here, so let me just pose the question. At what point do you tell The Person That Calls The Shots (TPTCTS) that you are SERIOUSLY concerned about a co-worker's mental health?

Help me out here, people. I'm really not sure what to do, but life around here is starting to be a bit more than uncomfortable.

Comments? Suggestions?

Theme Songs

As you know, this week, my theme song is Michael Jackson's "Jam". As I'm writing this, I'm doing some serious chair dancing choreography at my desk. If someone were to walk by right now, I think I'd be the joke of the office today. Probably should get up and close my door.

Anyway, as a result of my new found theme song (thanks again, Dad), I've decided to start a theme song playlist on my iPod. So far, I've got:

"I Was Born To Reign" by Will Smith - This song is about two minutes long and is a great pick me up when I'm on my way to do something that requires me to be super confident.

"Stayin' Alive" by The Bee Gees - C'mon. No matter who you are, this makes you strut down the street like your stuff don't stink.

"Yes We Can" by The Pointer Sisters - The lyrics are strong and the groove is infectious.

Help me out here. What are your theme songs? What songs do you listen to when you need to strut your stuff? When you need to be super confident? When you just need to make it through?

Getting The Hang Of This

I wrote a great rant today about something I experienced, and then I thought, "Maybe I shouldn't post this. I mean, what if someone trips across this? I did share my blog with a couple of folks at work when I was ranting about the mouse in my house. What if they visit it often?"

Here's the rant: Why didn't someone explain to me the beauty of blogging before I started this thing? I never should have shared this with people that I don't want to know my business. This would've been such an awesome place to anonymously vent. Oh well. Guess I'll have to save that posting for my book.

It Ain't Too Hard For Me To Jam

My Dad is always good for giving me an analysis with a musical twist. Case in point. I had very trying day at work today. I was denied a professional courtesy that I've seen extended to my colleagues time after time. Since this is the first time I asked for such a courtesy, I knew that it would be extended to me, but it was not. I was mortified. I felt that I had been kicked in the gut. I couldn't catch my breath and was fighting back tears. I lost that fight.

After consulting with my bestest sistahgurlfriend, I decided to call The Person That Calls The Shots (TPTCTS) and ask why I was denied. I was stern in my tone and direct with my question. I think I caught TPTCTS off guard because he began to stutter a bit. He passed the blame to someone else, and so, of course, I called that person, and after about ten minutes, I guided her to the conclusion that I wanted her to reach. I got what I wanted, but it was not without some serious stress that I'm sure sent my blood pressure up quite a few points.

So back to my Dad. When I called him to tell him about this, he went into analysis mode, as he always does (which is the sole reason I call him with stuff like this). He always wants to be sure that I see what is really happening beneath the surface, so he tears situations apart and explains what each action/word/silence really means. Today, after his anaylsis, he analogized the situation to a basketball fast break. One person throws the ball to another, then that person throws it back, and the the first person drives it down the center and jams it in the basket. He said they were trying to pull a fast break on me today, but I slapped it down before it went into the goal. Sometimes you have to go up and take the ball and jam it on them before they can jam it on you, he said. Dad and I tend to analogize everything to something else. Don't know where that came from, but we've been doing it as long as I can remember and it makes life easier to understand.

Now, you must understand that for Dad and I, there is a applicable song lyric for almost everything that happens in life. Today's lyric was from Michael Jackson's "Jam" - "It ain't too hard for me to jam!".

Here's the rant: Not really a rant, but the song is stuck in my head. I've got a new theme song for the next couple of days. Thanks, Dad. :)

Lupus Sucks

Yesterday evening, when I stood up from my desk to go home, I wasn't sure my legs were going to take me to the car. They felt heavy and tired. And I found myself to be suddenly exhausted. Then my joints started to ache. My toes hurt when I put pressure on them. My hands hurt as I tried to finagle my keys. My hips felt mechanical. And I didn't feel like I had the energy to do anymore than sit back down. But hell if I was gonna stay at work feeling like that! So I made my way home. I felt like I was pushing my car the whole way there.

Matilda met me at the door with her usual excited self and I didn't have the energy or strength to bend down and greet her. She followed me up the steps and into the bed. We stayed there for about 30 minutes and then I mustered the energy to take her out before I decided to call it a night.

I live for Thursday night television. I'm a huge fan of Ugly Betty, Grey's Anatomy, and ER. Last night, I was asleep before 8:15.

Today, I'm feeling a bit better, but am starting to get that exhausted feeling again. I'm supposed to have a date tonight in Baltimore, but I'm not sure I'm gonna make it.

Here's the rant: LUPUS SUCKS. That is all.

My Sentiments Exactly

I'm about to head out for lunch, but as always, I check my blogs to see if maybe, by some act of God, I've gotten any comments on any of my postings. Thankfully, today, my new friend at Dabble Dabble Do visited both of my blogs and left me a comment.

I am echoing another SITSter today in my post. My friend at I Used to Be Witty said that she loves comments because it lets her know that she's not just entertaining the voices in her head. I, too, love comments, but my friends, family, and followers (that is, if I have any followers that aren't friends and family) just seem to read my postings, chuckle to themselves, and move on. No one ever takes the time to comment. Honestly, I don't even know if they chuckle.

Here's the rant: Why won't y'all comment? I know it takes a little more effort than picking up the phone, but please, I'm trying to build something here. And if you don't want to actually string some words together and write a comment, at least check off one of the reaction boxes after the post. Please comment. I, like most people, enjoy immediate gratification. Your comments will get me through while I'm working on my big writing project that you will not find on either of my blogs.

Post Thanksgiving

My Thanksgiving was fabulous, thanks for asking. I hope your holiday was equally as fabulous.

The days following Thanksgiving were also quite noteworthy. I had a couple of visitors this weekend that brought much joy into my home. Yes, my girl and her daughter visited despite the uncaught mouse (who, by the way, has not been seen since the sugar cookie and peanut butter incident). She is truly my friend. We didn't do anything special. Sat around watching tv and taking naps mostly. But time with my friend in the same geographic space is a precious thing these days, so her visit brought me a lot of joy.

This morning, I went to my men's group breakfast. Well, it's not really a group. It's just two men - the Minister, the Lawyer, and then there's me. I always envied the old men that would get together in the morning at the local McDonald's. It was the camaraderie that they had that was the most appealing to me. I kind of tripped across this "group" and was going at least three times a week for awhile. Then work picked up and I just didn't have the time or energy to get to breakfast and get to work by a reasonable time. I didn't go to work today, so I seized the opportunity to reconnect with the men.

The Lawyer had to eat and run because he had court this morning. So for most of the meal, it was just The Minister and me. It seemed I hadn't missed out on much during my extended absence. At one point, a woman from the next table came over to speak to The Minister. She had silvery gray hair and small eyes that seemed to squint at me the entire time she was talking. She was decked out in all of her holiday finery. She was layered in red and green sweaters, topped off with a silk scarf covered in Santas tied around her neck. Her coat was donned with a 2nd grade art project - a Christmas tree made of iridescent red and green plastic beads and connected to a safety pin. Her earrings were made in the same arts and crafts class, but these were brightly colored sequins on a red felt backing. I couldn't figure out how they were connected to her ears.

She began to talk, and almost instantly The Minister shot me a look. In about thirty seconds, I understood why. I had never met this woman before, but she began to regale me with her life story. She told me how she was married and had two children, and at some point "he left me [her] for a woman that had syphilis, the slut". It was at about that point when The Minister excused himself and went to the restroom. He had obviously heard this all before.

She went on to tell me how she raised her two children and her grandson, and now, for some unknown reason, they wanted nothing to do with her. She wrote her final letter to them this weekend and was going to "give it to the Lord and leave it there". When she was pregnant with her son, her belly was completely purple. The doctors later told her she had cancer and had had it for 10 years. The doctors said that "they hoped the child would be born somewhere between the syphilis and the cancer, and that it would turn out to be healthy". Apparently, her father favored her two brothers and treated her like an afterthought. The boys got cars when they turned 16 and she got married off. Her father left one of her brothers $100,000 and she got nothing. "My life has been filled with the wrong men", she told me. I couldn't argue with that. But with the way she went on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, I'm sure that those men thought she was the wrong woman. Now, to be fair, there was obviously a missing mental health diagnosis, but good Lord! Her twenty minutes of disconnected and random rambling ended with, "but thanks to The Minister and his church, I am much better now. I just give it to the Lord".

Here's the rant: Well, I don't really have one. I just thought this was a funny story. But if I had to come up with one, it would be ... Who tells a complete stranger their complete life story?! And why do complete strangers just start talking to you out of the blue? My sister thinks it's a small town thing. I like to call it her Small Town Theory of Chatty Cathys. While we were at home this weekend, my sister got bombarded by a woman in the waiting room of the local mechanic's. After waiting an hour for her car, my sister knew the woman's name (Wendy), her child's name (Sydney), what was wrong with the woman's car, had heard the child's Bible recitation for the upcoming pageant, and had weaseled lots of information out of my sister like her name, what she does, where she lives, and what was wrong with her car. Her situation was a bit different because the woman was more inquisitive than anything, which made my sister a bit nervous. My woman just couldn't shut up.

Not really a rant. More of a Seinfeldian observation.

Post Script: About 10 minutes after I initially posted this, my girl sent me a series of text messages about her experience on a plane that she had just boarded.

• "This lady just moved so she could to talk to me. Y?!"
• The lady's "hubby calls every 10-14 days". He's in Iraq.
• The woman told her about two babies she knows that were damaged during birth because they were pulled out by the neck.
• "She had a hpv positive pap. Y do I know that?"
• The woman lives in Texas, but is from San Francisco.

There goes my sister's Small Town Theory of Chatty Cathys.

The Mouse, Part 4

After reading "It Wasn't Mickey", my Dad asked that I not curse so much in my posting. That will be difficult here, but I'll try.

That dag-on mouse has pushed my last dag-on button. I put some peanut butter on top of a sugar cookie and put that into the "no kill" trap a co-worker gave me. The trap had been set for a couple of days with a piece of cheese in it, but the mouse didn't bother with it. I put the cookie on top of the cheese. The next morning the cookie was gone and the cheese was still there.

Here's the rant: What kind of mouse do I have in this house?! How is it that it was able to walk in the trap, get the cookie, and get out without setting off the trap?! He's messin' with me now. And how dare he take the cookie and leave the cheese! What is that about? Dad says that the mouse's little family probably told him, "Look, taking the cheese is what killed your grandpa. Take anything you want, but don't mess with the cheese. It'll kill ya!".

This mouse is dancin' on my last nerve. I can't even bake my Dad his lemon cake. I mean, I could, but if I were him, I wouldn't want a cake that was baked in a kitchen with a mouse in it. And I know how much he loves that cake. I really wanted to show up on his doorstep with the cake for Thanksgiving. But I would think there would be a mental block about eating the cake because of the dag-on mouse. That mouse is starting to control my actions. Unacceptable.

As Bugs Bunny would say, "As you know, this means war!".

Cars Have Brains

My car has been slow to turn over lately. I attributted it to the cold weather. I also have a back door that doesn't like to close properly and it makes the car think that the door is open, which makes the interior lights come on. Now, this can happen when the door is tightly shut and the wind blows hard. All of a sudden, the car thinks that the door is open and, poof, the lights come on and stay on. (See my previous post entitled "Good Morning" for the last time that happened to me.)

So for whatever reason, the battery is a bit run down. But it's a Sears Die Hard battery, so I was sure, after talking to my Dad, that all it needed was a good charge and I would be good to go. Nope. Not so lucky. I went to Auto Zone today and when they took the battery out of the car and connected it to the charging machine, the battery went completely dead and wouldn't hold a charge. Guess I had it checked out just in time.

I had to buy a new battery. $82.73. As a result, I had to cancel my hair appointment. Mom doesn't know it yet, but she'll be playing hairdresser this weekend. Good thing I called over to the salon, because when I called, I found out that my stylist has been out sick and was not there today. I would've been hot if I had gone there only to find that she wasn't there.

After the Auto Zone lady (yes, lady! I was impressed), installed the new battery, and I started the car, she listened to the engine and kind of cocked her head to the side the way Matilda does when she hears something that's not quite right. She said, "Sounds like you've got a valve hitting against something in there. You might wanna get that looked at before you hit the road". Great.

Here's the rant: What is it about the cars I've owned that they always decide to have something big happen surrounding my trip home?! I think my cars have brains! When I was driving the wagon, it not only knew when it was time to go home, it also knew when I had a really important class that I had to get to and would choose those times to let me down. It knew that the air conditioner should break down right before the summer hit and that the heat should fail near the winter. Last year, with this Nissan, I had a really bad tire on the car that I had no idea about. So bad that it could've exploded on my way down 29 South. This year it's the battery. Oh, and my speakers have decided that they are on their absolute last leg as well. The back passenger speaker has started sounding like bullets are being shot in the car. So I may be making the five hour drive in silence. I think this car is trying to make me lose it, but I am stronger than my car. I will make the trip home and back without incident, AND I will listen to music the entire way.

Pray for me. :)

Mine is Better Than Oprah's

As the holidays approach, my email is flooded with great holiday must-haves. I have over 100 unread emails in my Yahoo inbox. I'm sure more than half of them are pushing some ultra new, ultra luxe product that I should consider giving for a gift or buying for myself.

And let's not forget Oprah's Favorite Things Show. Her annual opportunity to make us acutely aware of the difference between our bank accounts and hers. "Yes, I have this $200 sweater in all 7 colors." Hmph.

Here's the rant: Please, Oprah, give us a break. While I appreciate that proclaiming things as "your favorite" probably adds more money to your coffers, you must understand that you're peddling items that your average viewer can only dream of owning. For most of us, it's probably more likely that we'll get tickets to your "Favorite" show than to ever own most of that high dollar craziness. And yes, I know that one of your favorite things right now is the Post-It highlighter pen and that it only costs a couple of bucks, but who really wants to get that for Christmas?

So, in an effort to be a bit more realistic, I've decided to create my own list. Here is Kisha's Favorite Things (on a budget) List, in no particular order.

• I am a huge fan of Barely There. Their bras and panties are so comfortable. They are made of this really soft, slightly stretchy cotton. They don't have a waistband to cut into your stomach after that really big dinner that you wish you hadn't eaten. I am particularly partial to the Invisible Look Bikini. On the company's website, they go for $8/pair, but the budget conscious Kisha shops on OneHanesPlace.com. There you can find them for $6.99. Yes, I know, that's not much of a savings, but that site has them on sale pretty often for $5.50 if you buy 6 pair or more. I watch for the sale and the free shipping and then I load up.

• Since high school, I have been addicted to the Benetton sweater. They are classic wool sweaters that usually come in v-neck, crew neck, and turtleneck styles. They are a staple of my my winter wardrobe. I still wear some of the Benetton sweaters that I had in high school! Each year, a different set of colors are unveiled. The sweaters usually run in the range of $60, I think. It's been a very long time since I bought one at full price. I go to the Benetton outlet nearest me and rack up every year. Around March, all of the overruns and slightly irregular sweaters go on sale for $5.00 each. Sometimes I'll splurge and buy them when they are still priced at $15 or $20 just to insure that I'll get the color/style/size combo that I need. Check out your nearest outlet mall to see if they have a Benetton. You'll be glad you did.

• My favorite lip balm is Alba Coconut Cream Lip Balm. It is highly moisturizing, and as its name suggests, it smells very coconutty. I think that's why I like it so much. It's $3.49 on the company's website and is similarly priced at your local Target store. I haven't found a price break on this one yet, but if I do, I'll let you know. This is a must-have if you experience persistently dry lips.

• Now, this one has appeared on Oprah's list before, but it's been one of my favorite companies since I first discovered it back in 1999. I absolutely love all Philosophy products. I will not use anything else on my face. Recently, I've branched out and tried the Pure Grace shower gel and perfume. I order the the Make-Up Optional Skin regimen through the exclusive television offer. That offer is for a 90-day supply and it gives you the option of spreading out the payments. It also sends you a free gift with each shipment. That's how I get to try new things. I highly suggest it.

• My favorite book this year is The Palace Council by Stephen L. Carter. It's a mystery thriller that makes you really think. I'd also suggest having a dictionary handy as Mr. Carter is a law professor and occasionally likes to throw out the high dollar word. Whatever book you might be wanting to add to your library, I'd suggest you start your search on Amazon.com. There, you can usually find a great used copy for an unbelievable price.

• Musically, I'm in love with Jill Scott's Live in Paris cd/dvd. Again, check out Amazon.com. As of the time of this post, you could get a used copy for as little as $4.68 plus shipping.

• For the kid in you, I suggest The Looney Tunes Golden Collection Volumes 1-6 on dvd. Everyone remembers the classic characters of Bugs and Daffy, and it's nice to be able to watch them on Saturday morning they way we did when we were kids. They retail for about $50.00. Again, check out Amazon. I just purchased volume 3 for $25.00.

• Finally, if you are looking to get yourself a pet this year, my favorite place to look is your local animal shelter or rescue group. There you can find plenty of pure breed as well as mixed breed dogs. Most shelters also have a plethora of cats to chose from. Some even have hamsters, birds, and snakes. The adoption fee is usually pretty minimal (considering the cost of an animal at the pet store), and in most cases, the dog or cat is already up to date on its shots, has been spayed or neutered, and is microchipped.

And with that, the first annual Kisha's Favorite Things (On a Budget) List is complete. Hope you all enjoyed.

What is on your favorite things list? Please comment below and let me know what you would suggest as presents this year.

The Mouse, Part 3

I haven't seen any evidence of mice since I plugged in those super sonic mouse repellant things. I don't wanna jinx myself, but I think my sister was wrong. I think they do work. My landlord is on his way to my house to seal any small openings that there might be with some sort of foam.

Here's the rant: I don't have a rant today. I'm just thankful that I haven't seen a mouse in a few days.

The Mouse, Part 2

Let me say, for the record, that the photograph in the previous post was NOT the mouse in my kitchen. I found the picture on the web and pasted it on my blog. The actual mouse was a little longer and a little bigger than that one.

With that said, I went to Lowe's after work and stood in the "kill the pests" aisle for about 15 minutes. I ended up buying a trap that catches the mouse instead of killing it. I also bought these things that you plug into the wall that are supposed to emit a sound that mice don't like. I plugged two of them in the kitchen and one in the living room, just in case. My sister says they don't work. I hope she's wrong.

Oh, and after all the bleach-cleaning that I did this morning, I found a couple of little "presents" on the counter when I got home.

Here's the rant: I can't believe I expended so much energy this morning only to find "presents" this evening! This totally creeps me out!!!!! And after the $19.95 I spent on those plug-in things, they better work! I don't wanna find any little presents in the morning.

I'll keep you posted.

It Wasn't Mickey

I had just gotten under the blankets when I realized that I left my orthodontic trays in the kitchen. I ran back downstairs to get them, turned on the kitchen light, and there he was.

Not a burglar. Not Prince Charming. A mouse, and it sure as hell wasn't Mickey. Wasn't Minnie either.

Here's the rant: What the hell was a mouse doing in my kitchen?! There was no food out. My kitchen was clean. What the $@!# ?! Everyone says that he was probably coming in from the cold and looking for something to eat and a warm place to sleep. Well, he wasn't invited, nor is he paying rent. Unacceptable! Not what I needed to see in my house, especially not so close to my friend and her baby coming for a visit. Can't have the baby hangin' out in the house until I know that damn thing is dead and gone. And how the hell did he get in the house?! I am not happy. Dealing with this sort of crap is man's work. Yes, I said it, man's work. Spiders I can handle, but mice and snakes I don't do. They are best left for a strong, fearless man to deal with. Kudos to the women who don't mind killing a mouse or a snake, but that's not me.

Ran along the ledge and then dashed behind the microwave. I screamed. Then he ran across the stove and dove into the hole under the burner. I screamed again.

And here comes Matilda. She didn't run down the steps after my first scream, she non-chalantly trotted down the steps. She was in no hurry. The second time I screamed, I looked down to see her peering from behind my legs with a look like "What's going on here?".

Here's the rant: What kind of dog do I have?! She never barked. She never even stepped foot in the kitchen. She just stood there at the door, peeking around the corner to see what I was so worked up about. She didn't run out in front of me and bark at the intruder. No. She just stood there with a sheepish look on her face. Some dog. She was more like a 'fraidy cat. Hmph. I need a strong masculine dog that will protect me. Matilda is cuddly and all, but damn.

Getting to sleep last night would have been difficult had it not been for Lunesta. When I woke up this morning, and went into the kitchen, my OCD kicked in. I couldn't stop myself. I cleaned the stove and oven top to bottom. I even took out each of the burners and scrubbed the little things underneath with Brillo pads. I wiped down all of the counters with a bleach solution. I ran the dishwasher, even though it was full of dishes that were already clean. I swept the floor, vaccuumed the floor, and mopped the floor. I put all of the dog food in a ziplock bag (Going to get a plastic bin for it today). And then I vaccuumed the rest of the first floor.

I got to work around 9:30, but I felt much better.

I was going to call the landlord, but I didn't want him laughing at me. I'm on my way to Lowe's to find something to get rid of this thing myself. But I will be calling a man to come and throw it away once it's dead.

Note: The above is not a picture of the actual mouse. I was too crazed to even think about getting a picture of the thing.

A CD, please.

After yesterday's post, I spent some time on Youtube and found this wonderful clip of Whitney Houston performing at the 1994 American Music Awards. This is a 10 minute clip in which she performs "I Loves You, Porgy", "And I'm Telling You", and "I Have Nothing". Please sit back and enjoy this classic performance.

You can tell a true vocal talent by their delivery of the classics. She was impeccable!

Now you may think that the topic of today's rant will be about Whitney and her entanglement with Bobby. Nope. You might think that I'm disappointed that said entanglement has bruised her career. Not really. I'm eagerly looking forward to new music from Whitney. I'm sure that she will bounce back from her troubles and bless us with something incredible.

Here's the rant: Can I get this performance on cd?!!!! I would love to have this in my ipod for the days that I'm in the mood for classic live vocal performances. Why is it that it's virtually impossible for me to get any of the live performances from the AMAs, the Grammys, or the Oscars? Thank God for youtube, otherwise many of these performances would be lost to the general public after the initial airing. Has no one looked at compiling these performance and selling them as a money making project? As an attorney, I understand that there are probably many legal hurdles in the making of such a recording, but dang! If anyone were to tackle this project, I would think Dick Clark would be the first. Dick, hire me! I'll straighten out the legal issues and get all of these live recordings on dvd and cd.

Blatant Thievery

Beyonce has a new album coming out called "I Am/Sasha Fierce". It's a two disc release that is supposed to reflect two distinctly different sides of her personality. One of the first releases was "Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)". Here's the video.

Catchy tune, although her use of "oh, oh, oh" is becoming old, and the track on this song is eerily similar to "Get Me Bodied" from her last album.

When you search for the above video on Youtube, a clip of Gwen Verdon pops up. She's doing her husband, Bob Fosse's choreography entitled "Mexican Breakfast".

Notice any similarities? No? Well then, watch this.

Here's the rant: Are you kidding me?!!!! Did she just blatantly lift Fosse's choreography? Right there at the beginning. Yep, she sho' did! Okay then, well I must have missed it in the video when she gave Fosse a shout out. I missed it, right? Must have blinked. Let me play it again. Nope, no shout out. I can't believe she stole choreography!

Okay, there is this video of her on BET's "106 & Park" in which she admits to having seen the Verdon clip on Youtube. Here's that clip (play the second video on the site. It's about 20 seconds in). http://hiphop.popcrunch.com/beyonce-106-park-video-october-14/ She said she thought it was cool that it was done in one shot and that she wanted to do something in one take like that because it's different than what videos today look like. Never once did she say anything like, "Fosse is cool and I wanted to honor his choreography and add my own twist to it". Nope. Nothing that remotely sounded like that. I'm an English major, and in my world, this would be called plagerism.

Note: All videos were found on www.youtube.com.

Reflection

A week ago today, I had just walked out of the voting "booth" feeling an odd combination of confidence, trepidation, and guilt. Before I explain, let me go off on an unrelated rant.

Here's the unrelated rant: Touch screen voting sucks. Give me the days of closing the curtain to the booth and pulling the lever. I remember going to vote with my parents. It seemed like such an important and personal act. Something that required deep thought and concentration. Those metal machines were huge and the sound of the lever was so emphatic. There was no doubt that what you had just done was monumental. Touch screen voting has reduced the voting experience to something akin to ordering a sandwich at Wawa. Bring back the curtain!

But I digress.

When I left my polling place, I was as confident as I had been since the Iowa caucuses that Obama would win. Before Iowa, I liked him and supported him, but wasn't confident that he had what it took to win. Since I wasn't on the ground, I had no idea that his field organization was so strong. All I knew was that his performances in the debates up to that point weren't particularly strong. He definitely seemed like the most thoughtful candidate, but with an electorate that gave us W not once, but twice, I did not think the most thoughtful and intelligent candidate had a chance in hell of winning. Like most, I thought Hillary was destined to be the nominee, even given her baggage.

I was slightly worried after McCain picked Palin. (Isn't it funny how we refer to her by her last name, and Hillary by her first?) There were a lot of rabid feminists out there who were pissed with Obama for not picking Hillary and would vote for McCain just because of his VP pick. But once her, let's say her lack of preparation, yeah, that's what we'll call it - once her lack of preparation surfaced, it was clear that she wouldn't add anything to McCain's failing efforts.

So I was quite confident that Obama would win, but at the same time I was worried as hell.

This is the country that invented the poll tax. Disenfranchisement happens in every election. And with so much at stake in this election, I was sure that there would be some serious trickery happening. I was fearful that we would have another Florida on our hands. I was worried that voter intimidation would run rampant. Simply put, I believed that the election would be stolen.

But if, by the grace of God, the election wasn't stolen, I was scared that someone would try to hurt Obama. Just a few days before the election, two young boys were picked up for their plot to kill Obama and other African-Americans. There are still folks living today that are happy that Martin, Malcolm, and John were killed. There are still folks who are angry and resentful that African-Americans enjoy any kind of success. There are those that still believe that if an African-American elevates himself, then they must have been given unfair advatange because of race. So it wasn't such an outrageous thought that something bad might happen if and when Obama won.

Above all, I had an overriding sense of guilt. My feeling of guilt had been building since the winter of 2007. You see, I spent almost a year in Iowa for Bill Bradley during the 2000 election cycle. I retired from electorial politics when I went to law school in 2003. I decided that I wanted a more stable life. But I always said that if the right candidate came along, I'd reconsider. Well, when this cycle got going, I was just starting my legal career. I knew that if I went back out on the trail now, I would never return to the courtroom. So I decided to stick with my committment to my law degree and to stay put. It's a decision that I struggled with for almost two years and one that I truly regret.

Here's the rant: What the hell was I thinking?!!!!! Enough said.

So on election night, when the world was sheading tears over the historic win, I was not at all surprised by the outcome, holding my breath during his speech, and feeling stupid for not having played a bigger role.

White Sunglasses

I rode past a woman in a sleek new BMW this morning. She had a cute short haircut that she had decided to spike with an ungodly amount of gel. She was talking on her bluetooth. It was white. Never seen a white bluetooth headset before. She had on white, seemingly Gucci, sunglasses.

Here's the rant: Just because they make it doesn't mean you should wear it. I don't care what label they slap on it. White sunglasses, especially in November on the east coast, are not cute. They are actually quite gaudy.

Have a great day!

Crapper's Park

I love taking Matilda for a walk. She's always so excited to be outside and I enjoy watching her enjoy herself. I also use the time to be alone with my thoughts. I let my mind wonder. I pay attention to small things that I wouldn't normally notice.

And everyday during our walk, I have to play the "dodge the crap" game. But this morning, I wasn't paying attention and stepped right in a fresh pile of it.

Here's the rant: Why can't people pick up their dog's crap?! I mean, really, how difficult is it? It's not. I do it everyday, twice a day. I don't understand why people think that it's okay to leave their dog's crap in an open field - an open field where kids play and sometimes run around barefoot. It angers me that I can't walk through the park without having to dodge the dog poop. Something must be done about this.

My town already has an ordinance that addresses this problem.

Sec. 3-2.2. Animal excrement removal.(a) Any person who owns, possesses or controls an animal shall immediately remove any excrement deposited by the animal upon any street, gutter, sidewalk, public parking lot, public park, or any other public area.(b) A person is in compliance with this section if the person removes the excrement and carries it away for proper disposal, or if he places the excrement in a bag, wrapper or other container, and deposits it in a litter receptacle.(c) This section shall not apply to a person who has a physical handicap which would prevent the person from complying with the requirements of this section.(Ord. No. 827, 6-3-96)
Sec. 3-3. Penalty for violation of chapter. Except where it is otherwise provided, any person, firm or corporation who shall violate any provision of this chapter shall be deemed guilty of an infraction, the fine for which shall be $100.00, and every day that a violation continues after due notice has been served in conformity with the terms and provisions of Ann. Code of Md. Art. 23A, § 3(b), shall be deemed a separate offense.(Code 1972, § 3.13; Ord. No. 600, § 1; Ord. No. 730, § 1, 8-15-88; Ord. No. 905, 8-5-02)

The real problem is that no one enforces the ordinance. If this town really wanted to make some money, they should have someone watching to park. If a fine had been imposed for each pile of crap I either walked past or in this morning, the city would have had an extra $1500 in its budget. After a few days of writing tickets for not picking up dog poop, the town could continue to fund some of the programs for children that will probably be on the chopping block if new money is not found. And maybe the word would get out about the dog poop tickets and owners would take more responsibility for their dogs.

I'm going to lobby my town council about this. I'll keep you posted.

Roaming Dog

I took Matilda for a walk this morning. It was raining. As we approached the park, I saw a dog roaming without an owner. Normally, I would go in the opposite direction because Matilda loses her mind around other dogs, but this morning I walked toward the dog. A few days ago, I saw a poster about a missing Jack Russell Terrier that has a medical condition and needs to be found so it can get its medicine. This dog was a Jack Russell. As I got closer, her owner appeared. She said that since it was raining, she just let the dog out of the car to let her do her business. We talked about the missing dog and how heartbreaking it would be to lose our dogs. Her dog's name was Chloe. Chloe was 14 years old and either was hard of hearing or just not as obedient as she used to be.

Here's the rant: If losing your dog would be heartbreaking to you, don't let her roam around in a public, ungated area without a leash! Letting the dog roam not only increases the possibility of losing your dog, it is also against the law. I would love to let Matilda run free. She would enjoy it so much. But to do so isn't safe for her or the public, and selfishly, it's not in my self interest.

Keep your dog on a leash!

Good morning

It was a great morning. I slept well. Lunesta is my new best friend.

Took out Matilda and she did her business pretty quickly, which was nice because it was windy and raining.

Came back in. Took a shower. Figured out what I was going to wear without much fuss. Got dressed.

Gave Matilda a snack, kissed her goodbye, and was out the door.

As I approached the car, I noticed that all of the inside lights were on, but dim.

Damnit.

You know the rest. The battery didn't have enough juice to start the car. Had to call an old boyfriend to get a jump because I let my AAA lapse. Dumb move for a single girl, I know.

So I sat out in the cold because I didn't want to go back in the house and give Matilda the idea that I was staying for the day. Being abandoned once a day is enough for anyone.

Finally, a friend of the Ex's came and gave me a jump. I was at work by 8:45.

Here's the rant: Why, in the hell, won't the back door of that car remain completely shut?! I can't tell you how many times I've found myself in the same damn predicament. At the airport. At the metro station. In a downtown Baltimore parking garage.

Don't get me wrong. This car has been much better to me than my '82 Mercedes station wagon ever was, but damn. Is it too much to ask to have the door shut properly? The car needs some body work - work I can't afford.

And don't get me started on money!