2006 Closeout (UPDATED with Spoiler)

I have the next 9 days off. What a way to bring in the New Year. I get to relax, reflect and do only the things I want to do for the next week and a weekend. It doesn't get much better than this.

I've had a lot going on as this year has drawn to a close. Until last night, my place looked like a cyclone hit it. Every dish in my house was dirty, there were bowls of dried batter, cake frosting and God knows what else. It was gross and too big of a job for me to tackle, so I ignored it all week long.

I knew I wanted to start vacation with a clean slate this morning so last night I demonstrated the ultimate, utter laziness imaginable. I hired Katrice's kids to clean it for me. Man, what kids will do for money. They agreed to help me before they saw the actual project. I fully expected them to bow out once they cast their eyes upon my scuzz, but despite their repulsion, they wanted the cash. Let me tell you, that was the best $40 I've ever spent in my life. My kitchen sparkles today. What's better is that since they handled the kitchen, I got to clean up the rest of the apartment. It feels like home again, not like Santa's bakeshop gone amuck. I feel like I have a nice soothing place to relax and enjoy my vacation.

Now, speaking of vacation. I'm going to try to take time to breathe, relax, reflect on this past year and set some goals for next year. I'll start back in the gym since the holidays have done what they do to my routine and regimen. I'll try to spend time with myself a little more and get a little more settled within on a couple of issues that are still more unsettling for me than I'm comfortable with. More on those as I reflect. You might have to check Unpacking Faith though, since some of those issues are particular to that journey I'm chronicling over there.

I've got some Christmas pics, as promised. A few of my favorite things. All food.


Turnip greens. OK, I'm not the biggest fan of turnip greens, I prefer collards or kale, but these are great as long as I don't have to eat the turnips. It's funny how you usually can't get kids to eat veggies, but sit a black kid down in front of some greens and see what happens.




Rice. We're a rice and gravy family. Not mashed potatoes. I've tried a couple of times to slip some taters on the table, but somebody always brings the rice. It goes with the brisket and gravy that my uncle makes. A couple of us (the kids) have sat at granny's feet long enough to make a decent brisket. But Uncle Ed's rocks.


Do you know what these are? Hint: there's a vinegar bottle to the left of the bowl and to the right you can see the red top of the hot sauce bottle. Any guesses?


SPOILER: Click for the answer.



Here's the whole spread.






And here's Ed's brisket.







This is my plate. My fork is pointing to what is left of my first helping of the stuff you're supposed to be trying to identify.





And this is the shot NO one is supposed to take. Ever. A fat girl eating.






I'll spare you all my plumber shot. My brother took a picture of me opening gifts on Christmas Eve. Apparently with as much ass as I have, it's completely insensitive to draft. It seems he sat right behind me and took the pic. I never knew he was there, but it was baaaaaaaad. Let's just say there's something to be said for granny panties. I better pick up a few.

So, 20 smooches to whoever gets Name That Pic right. And, one question in the interest of diversity. Do other people take pictures of food (and caskets) or is that just a black folk thing?

I have really enjoyed meeting all of you wonderful people this year. And as 2006 comes to a close I wish you all joy, peace, love and the abundant richness of all that means the most to you in the coming year.

Peace.

Christmas Rocked!!

Hey all. First, WHEW!!! I had a wonderful Christmas. But let me tell you, I ran around like a crazy lady down to the last second. I realized that my gift idea would be quite an undertaking, but man I sure underestimated how much time I needed.

My kitchen still looks like a cyclone hit it. And I have so much sweet goodness left over it’s not funny. I think I’m having a thing at my place on Thursday or Friday night. Maybe both. Come, one and all. Eat, drink … and listen to my new tunes!!! I got this for Christmas. Santa was so good and generous this year. I felt so much love it wasn’t even funny. Last Christmas I was so cynical and frustrated and bitter and angry and bitchy. This year was light years away from that. My family is so weird and quirky, but I love those peeps to pieces.

Do you know what my brother and sister-in-law are trying to make me believe? They said that last year I told them that I got the short end of the stick in the gift giving deal with them because they are three (including my wonderfully adorable nephew) and I am only one. They gave me a gift from the fam last year, while I bought them individual gifts. Now, mind you, their gift was freaking exactly what I wanted and I have used the hell out of it (since it is so perfect) and will continue to use it forever. But, c’mon guys? Do you believe I said that?? I honestly don’t remember saying it, and I would own up to it if I did. But, I can’t discount the possibility that I just forgot this one. I know I can be obnoxious at times, but c’mon. Cut me some slack. Please tell me I didn’t say that (out loud)! ;)

Granny was thrilled that we all obeyed and came to dinner at her house (well, except for my brother). Dinner was delish, as usual. I have a pic for you if someone [nudge, nudge] would send it to me. I can’t explain dinner without the photo. So look for it. I have a couple of other photos too, if someone else would go ahead and send them, as promised [nudge, nudge, freaking elbow blow to the rib cage]. You’ll get to see all of my fun from the party on Friday to Christmas Eve gift opening to Christmas dinner, but must have pics first. Sorry. But this is not my fault. I do have one pic, but I refuse to post it in isolation. It needs others to buffer it.

OK, funniest story of Christmas. We’re at my apartment Christmas Eve, opening presents. This goes against all I love about Christmas morning, but there was just no way to get us all in the room that day, so, we did the next best thing. Here’s the scene: mom, dad, brother and sister-in-law, femfriend 1, femfriend2 and manfriend, and their two kids-- 11yoB, 9yoG. We’re all packed in my living room, a couple of us nice and happily filled with spiked sorrel. We’re opening presents. I got a stereo that I asked for (actually I got 2 of them, but that’s another story) and 11yoB is putting it together for me. He is seated almost directly in front of my linen closet working away. He needs 3 AA batteries. No problem. There are AA batteries in the bottom drawer inside the linen closet. I go to closet, open drawer and start searching for batteries. Well, there is also a bag of personal goodies in same drawer. I had taken them out of the drawer under the bed because femfriend1’s 3 and 4 yo girls are sleeping in there. Wouldn’t want them to go exploring, right? As I’m searching for batteries, the bag lights up and starts vibrating. Yup, lights up. Who knew? 11yoB is so close to me I could flick my hair and smack him. I grab the batteries, slam the drawer shut and hand them to him. I’m standing there going, I know damn well he hears that, and I wonder what the hell I’m going to say when he asks what that noise is. My brother who is sitting on the far side of the room sees my face and instantly busts out laughing and leans into his wife to tell her (his assumption) that I took the batteries OUT of the device to give him for the stereo. Oh how I wish I were so smart.

So, drawer still vibrating and lit up (because it’s a plastic caddy in a dark closet), I go back to try to turn things off. Damn it if I don’t hit the FASTER and ROTATE buttons on the dang thing, so now it’s louder and spinning around. I’m about to pee on myself, because you know how I get when I can’t laugh out loud. And so to avoid wetting them right in front of everyone, I grab the bag, hug it to my chest and run into the bathroom to shut the dang things off. I laughed so hard and so loud I know my guests thought I was nuts. I shoved the bag under the bathroom sink and just hoped nobody ran out of toilet paper. I will scar a child for life, do you hear me?? I’m the best reason, all by myself, for not having children. And, it’s not so much that I had the goods that would scar the kids, it’s that I can’t handle the situation any better than to laugh my ass off. I’m skill-less in the “protecting your child’s innocence” department. 9 and 11yo are pretty used to my potty mouth, but this was too much.

Other holiday goodness: I watched Akeelah and the Bee last night and I cried my eyeballs out. I LOVE that movie. It was so empowering. We can learn so much from kids, I tell you. I was so moved by how the pure genuine innocence of the hearts of children crumbled race and class walls that adults build to keep us divided. It was so beautiful. It spoke to the strength and challenges of community. At first I thought it would propel me into a full-blown celebration of Kwanzaa (an idea I’ve been kicking around for a couple of days), but true to form for Lexi, the picture was so much bigger. I’m all for the Black community unifying and valuing each other more than we do, but the bigger picture requires all people to unify and engage with our community as a whole, in all of our diversity. I loved this movie and I will watch it a million times more. See it if you haven’t.

I leave you with a quote from the film, which is but one of its myriad messages:

"Our worst fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'who am I to be so brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?' Actually, who are we not to be? You are a child of God: Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not just in some of us, it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
~Marianne Williamson

(widely mis-attributed to Nelson Mandela )

How was your Christmas?

omgomgomgomg

iamrunningaroundlikeachickenwithmyheadcutoff,
tryingtogetbakingdoneintheeveningsandthatissonotworkingout.
i'mgettingfurtherbehindandnowivolunteeredtohostaninformal
dinneratmyplaceonchristmaseve.whatthehellwasithinking?
andwhat'sworstisthatveryfewofyouguysarebloggingthesedays,
soidon'thavemyusualdiversiontoaidinmyprocrastination.
thanksalotguys.gottarun.bye.

Doing What I Do Best

Warning: Compulsives, beware. This post desperately needs an edit. But I'm off to bake cookies. Deal.

• I'm procrastinating. I should be baking now if I'm ever going to be done by Christmas. I've finished chocolate chip cookies (with and without pecans), oatmeal scotchies (nuts and not), pistachio lime cookies, a couple of oreo cheesecakes and... that's it for now. I think I'm up to about 50 dozen, I think. Maybe less. I ate a couple.
• 
  
• I upgraded my Firefox. I now get red lines to let me know I've misspelled words, even in Blogger. Yay.
• 
  
• Charlie Brown Christmas is on. I hate all of these shows: Rulolf, Frosty, Great Pumpkin. All of them. I don't think they're so bad. I've just seen them all and I never want to see them again. Kids are so screwed if they get stuck with me as a mom. Poor things.
• 
  
• I hate my bank. Either debit cards are Satan, or my bank gets a kick out of stealing money from me. To make a long story short, I spent all of the money in my checking account shopping for baking stuff Friday night. I deposited 2 checks at the ATM Saturday night. The bank "held" the money from the deposit and therefore drew overdraft fees for 5 of my Friday night purchase. They only want to refund 2 of them. They stole $90 from me for no reason. Who has $90 to throw down the drain at Christmas time? Fuckers! I hate them. I want to change banks, but only after the D. I want a clean slate. Note to self: ONLY use the DEBIT function. Choosing CREDIT costs you money because your credit union gets its jollies off of stealing your money in $28 increments.
• 
  
• I've been at my job now for a little over a year. It's time to ask for a raise. I've never, ever done this in my life. The last time my boss and I discussed my utter inability to live off of my current salary without working a second job, she informed me that I'm at the top of my pay scale, and that an increase would put me into the same range as the attorney's salary. That sounds like the attorney's problem to me. Right? What does it have to do with me that the attorney agreed to work for chickenshit? I know we're a non-profit and all. But hello????
• 
  
• All bets are off on the fitness business. I was hoping to make a major milestone in the whole weight loss arena. But, my house is filled with sweet, yummy goodness. And I haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks. I'm too busy getting fat. I'll fix it in January. I know I suck. You can say so.
• 
  
• My dad wanted to share a Bible verse with me that mattered to him last week. I had to resist the impulse to knock the Bible out of his hand. Hmmm? This could be an issue, huh? I'm not really surprised by my impulse. Just putting in public for all of you to witness my depravity. Hell, here I come.
• 
  
• Speaking of going to hell...I don't do old people. I attribute this solely and completely to utter selfishness. I am annoyed by how slowly they tell a story, get to the point, speak, re-tell the same story you just heard, re-get to the same point they just got to and...you get my point. If nothing else secures my place in hell, I'm sure this does. What are they keeping me from as the drag on and on and on torturing me with their incessant, dawdling chatter? Nothing. Just something else I'd rather be doing. Translation: selfishness. I really need help.
  
• 
  
• My Granny is 88 (or 89, she and the 1920 census disagree). I love her. I don't spend nearly as much time with her as I should. Truth be told, I don't spend any time with her. She called to make sure I'd be there for Christmas. Of course I'll be there, since you called personally. What am I supposed to say, "nah, I'll catch you next year?" I don't think so. The Granny part had little to do with me going to hell except that she is old. I don't feel about her as I do for old people generally, but something keeps me away. She tells funny stories. I'll miss her dearly if she passes. I better get this together. I have a friend who could spend all day sitting and talking to her grandmother. I admire her. I'm too selfish. What a lovely Christmas thought.
• 
  
• Charlie Brown is still invading my television. Why don't the adults say words? That's how I feel when old people are talking to me. I mean, that's what it sounds like after about 3.67 minutes.
• 
  
• I really need to be in the kitchen.
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• I've been blogging for a whole year now. Sometimes I feel more introspective than others. I've enjoyed those moments, but I really like these posts when I just tell you what I really think.
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• I'm going to a Christmas party on the 23rd. I'm really looking forward to it. I'm so glad not to be spending the days leading up to Christmas organizing my church's annual dinner for the homeless. We took hot meals to the streets of DC every single Christmas morning of my marriage. It stopped being selfless and admirable after year 3 because after that I bitched and moaned about it the whole time. Hell. I know. My new addy.
  
• 
  
• I saw my dad the other day and he goes, "Lexi, you look a lot less stressed that you have the past couple of months. Are you getting some?" You've really gotta love my parents! I guess I left the door open for that with the whole "blowing the mechanic" thing. I guess I'm not "daddy's little girl" anymore.
• 
  
• My parents asked me for a Christmas wish list this year. First time since I was a kid. I decided to be cheeky. Since they asked what I wanted, I told them. I used to hold back when my parents asked me about needing money or wanting stuff. But I stuck it to them this year. They can always laugh at me and call me nuts. I asked for the Zune Mp3 player. My dad is so cute. He tries to keep up with the times (although he still says 'bumpin'') but he has not clue what an mp3 player is. He finally broke down and asked. Notice that none of the descriptions of them on line bother to mention what it exactly is. He's so cute.
• 
  
• I hate cheesecake. I don't really know when this happened, because it hasn't always been this way. But there's nothing appealing about it for me anymore. It actually repulses me a little. I guess that's a good thing. Now if I could only develop a repulsion to all else but carrots and hay I'd be in business.
• 
  
• I will make at least one batch of dough tonight. I will make at least one batch of dough tonight. I will get up off of my fat ass and make at least one batch of dough tonight.
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• My mom just called me to tell me that one of her friend's sister died. I said I was sorry. My mom gets so worked up when people die. What else am I supposed to say? I knew her, but not like that. I think it was more of an FYI call. Do you know how many of her friends I've killed and resurrected. I can never remember who's dead and who's alive. Scary thought that half your parents' friends have died.
  
• 
  
• My intern's cousin's 8 month old baby died Saturday. Now that got to me.
  
• 
  
• I watched this guy beat the living crap out of his girlfriend while she was driving her car today. I know that he was her boyfriend because that's what the cop (who I called) told me after he finished investigating the incident. The guy told me to mind my fucking business. Naturally. I'm sorry, America. If you ever see a man pounding me in the face, ever, PLEASE call the police if you're (like me) too scared to intervene yourself. This girl didn't want to press charges. No surprise to me, but at least the punk had to walk home. Asshole. And at least she has an incident report should she ever need to build a case against the jerk in the future. She was thankful. I hope she gets away from him safely, for good. Would you have called the police?
• 
  
• I don't want to end on that note, but I'm all out of ideas. I've unloaded all of my random thoughts on you.

What a boring post. I'll find my mo-jo again. Really.

Going to the Chapel and We're Gonna Get Married....

OK, now that the cat is out of the bag (see comments from post below) I can fill you all in on the 15 reasons why I’m going to marry Andy of From the Outside and have his children.

1. He’s white. Yeah, that’s right. I said it. I’m not sure what kind of sandals he wears, but he’s close enough to my Birkenstock Man for government work. Do you guys remember when I swore off brothers? Problem solved.
2. He cooks. Now, what women alive wouldn’t jump at the chance to get hitched to a man who knows his way around the kitchen? At least I know that on the nights I just don’t feel like cooking, I’m not sentenced to take-out, necessarily. Back off, Ladies. He's MINE.
   
3. He has super-high metabolism. And I hope like hell I catch it.
4. He’s handy. Honey-do list, here we go. He’s already been broken in by the women in his office. And even if he’s not really broken in, he already blogged about how to get whatever I want out of him (something about asking as opposed to "bitching, moaning and complaining"). So, hey, I know the secret. No, wait, that's carrot cake.
5. He’s an IT guy. Look, I know women who have actually dated guys with no email address. YES. In 2006. So, rather than getting stuck with one of those losers, I thought I better cash in on this catch. Besides, he can tweak the hell out of my blog. Oooooh BABY!!!
6. He gets women. He has acquired the keenest sense of how the world revolves (read: around US!). So, yeah. Can’t pass that up.
7. He’s so intelligent. There’s so much I stand to learn from the depths of his infinite wisdom.
8. And, in that infinite wisdom, he knows who to suck up to. That's right! No matter who gets the short end of the stick, this guy's gonna keep bringing home the bacon. Cut-throat, save your ass, sink your friends...just keep bringin' home that check. I'll buy the Chapstick.
   
9. He is secure in his place in the universe. There's nothing like a man who gets that women are, in fact, the superior gender. Eureka! I'm telling you, he needs to teach classes!!
   
10. He's a rock star! Show me one woman who doesn't love a bass player. Didn't think so.
11. He's loaded. OK, so my sequencing doesn't accurately reflect my priorities. Shoot me.
    
12. He knows what to do with the feather. Didn't thinkI'd leave that one out, did you?
13. He knows that life is really about the little things. Whoa. That one was geniune. How'd that get in there?
14. He appreciates fine poetry. Girls, stand in line to have him recite this one to you. Whew. I know. Here, you can use my paper fan.
    
15. And finally, despite the fact that he only scored a B- on an 8th grade math test and probably won't be the one to help the kids with their homework, he's still got lessons to pass on to the youngins!! I think I'll even chance reproduction.

Now, I know the haters are lining up to spew their venom in my direction. Back off!! Hate, though you might, this one is mine. Isn't he dreamy?

Dare me, do you?