Lost in the Mail

I posted a picture of my friends enjoying our St. Patrick's Day girl's day with a caption that depicted what might have been a can't miss event and like any other time a photo of individuals having fun is posted, someone commented "Put me on the list for next year."

What possesses someone to request an invitation to an event occurring 364 days in the future with a group of friends who expressed no desire to include strangers? Do NOT ask me "where is my invite?" YOU DO NOT HAVE ONE. IT WAS NOT AN OVERSIGHT. YOU WERE NOT INVITED. YOU WON'T BE INVITED NEXT TIME. IF I WANTED YOU THERE, THEN YOU WOULD BE THERE. Perhaps I'm annoyed for no reason, but I personally think it's rude to publicly solicit an invitation on social media. I scroll through IG and FB and see "Damn, no invite?" posted on pictures of food, weddings, parties, picnics, spa days, shopping trips, EVERYTHING! NO! YOU DID NOT GET AN INVITE!! Shit's maddening. 

After a twitter venting session, the homie @Jonmicol suggested showing up to places as soon as people post pictures and check in on FB. Why ask for the invite? Genius. From now on, if you post an unsolicited request for an invite on my damn social media, I WILL be inviting myself to whatever the fuck you're doing. On a date? Yo. I been wanting to try that restaurant! Heard the truffle butter was fiye. At the movies? I'm calling your name and using my iPhone flashlight in the theater until I find you. You getting married? I'm Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn in that bitch. I AM SHOWING UP WITH A WHOLE MUTHAFUCKING CREW.

Look. Just don't ask me where your invitation is. It's rude as fuck but I'D be the rude one to tell you your shit got lost in the mail. 

The REAL List of Football Movies to Get Your Mind Right for SuperBowl Sunday

Just in time for the SuperBowl, Vogue published a list of movies to "help" (I’m assuming) women learn about football.  Unless you’re interested in the ins and outs of being an unemployed sports agent struggling to hold on to one client whilst trying to mack down a single mother he convinced to leave a job with benefits she REALLY needs since she’s raising a son alone and whatnot, that list won’t teach you jackshit about football…not enough to impress anyone, at least.  You’ll be well versed in fairytale adaptions of White Savior stories *The Blindside* but your knowledge about the greatest game on turf will be very limited.  Fortunately, my Sportsbae and I compiled a list of actual football movies.  You’re welcome.

Any Given Sunday

Oliver Stone + football + Al Pacino + Jamie Foxx + LT + LL Cool J = cinematic perfection

cindasmommy – My name is Willie (Willie Beamen); I keep the ladies (Creamin’)

curlyfro  - EYEBALL SCENE!

Brian’s Song (1971)

The made for TV movie classic about the friendship of Chicago Bears greats Brian Piccolo and Gale Sayers.  Billy Dee Williams is in it. You will cry...like a lil bitch.

cindasmommy  – Gale Sayers: "Oh babe, you won’t believe it. Brian tried to call me a nigger."

curlyfro - Cannot type through the tears. Gayle Sayers' locker room speech. MY GAWD.

The Longest Yard (2005)

A remake of the 1974 film starring Burt Reynolds about a pro QB who leads an inmate football team in a game against prison guards. Adam Sandler does it again.

cindasmommy – Nelly.  Yeah I said it.  The mayor of Nellyville. 

curlyfro - This movie gave us the phrase "baby back bitch." Never forget

*Honorable mention - Gotta love a remake that includes the star of the original film. 

The Replacements

Professional players are on strike. Does that stop football from happening? HELLS NO! Enter the replacements.

cindasmommy – Fat guy TDs are pure, unadulterated joy simply because they’re always followed up by a fat guy dance in the end zone.

curlyfro - "Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory lasts forever." Motivation for that ass! 

Rudy

Small guy.  Big game. Who in the hell started cutting an onion?

cindasmommy – “You're five foot nothin. A hundred and nothin. And you have barely a speck of athletic ability. And you hung in there with the best college football players in the land for two years. You're gonna walk outta here with a degree from the University of Notre Dame. In this life, you don't have to prove nothin' to nobody but yourself. Am I making myself clear?”

curlyfro - *record scratch* I hate Notre Dame.

The Program

An extremely underrated film that explores a college football program

starring James Caan as coach and Omar Epps as freshman running back, Darnell Jefferson. 

cindasmommy  - Before Omar Epps became Mike Tomlin, he was Darnell Jefferson

curlyfro - Whenever a receiver has multiple drops, I like to request that they enroll in The Darnell Jefferson School of Ball Protection. 

Friday Night Lights

Not the TV drama, the movie. four words: TEXAS HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL.

cindasmommy -  I firmly believe Billy Bob Thornton can take the Bears to the Superbowl 

curlyfro - "Y'all wanna win, put Boobie in." 

Little Giants

A film about peewee football in Ohio (O-H!) where two brothers coach opposing teams in an effort to get in the state peewee football playoffs. 

cindasmommy - In my mind, Ed O'Neill is Al Bundy reliving his glory at Polk High.

curlyfro - Becky O'Shea, Icebox. dopest little lady football player. 

Remember the Titans

High school football and integration. Warning: high possibility of thug tears.

cindasmommy - A tale of two halves.  Magic happens during halftime locker room speeches

curlyfro - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bXDarXk-JI

The Waterboy

Bobby Boucher goes from stuttering water boy (high quality H2O, folks) to star linebacker. And lowkey, you can get some football basics in between laughs. 

cindasmommy - Kathy Bates is hilarious as Mama Boucher...Fool's ball

curlyfro - "Captain Insano shows no mercy."

It's Been a Long Time...

I suck.  I made a commitment to write 52 posts this year and now I have to cram them into the final few months of the year...along with manage two fantasy football leagues, attend Bears games, watch football...so basically football. Serves me right for using all of my free time to do hoodrat things with my friends and drink copious amounts of alcohol and say goodbye for now to a dear friend and witness the engagement of another and plan parties and go to Africa and sporting events and cake and stuff. But, a promise is a promise, so I have about 40 posts to churn out in the next 3 months.  If my math serves me correctly, it's not impossible.  Y'all ain't gotta read them all but please read some some so my feelings won't be hurt.

I'm a failure at rejecting and I only have myself to blame...

One day this summer, I was drinking an inappropriate amount of an unnamed alcoholic beverage straight from the bottle.  I wasn't the only one so leave me alone. At some point, I thought it would be a good idea to give some man my phone number.  Upon reaching sobriety, I realized I had absolutely no desire to spend a single moment of time with this gentleman...I'm not very good at rejecting men so I decided to let it play out naturally: he texts, I give one word responses, he realizes I'm no longer interested and stops contacting me.  Works all the time and by all the time, I mean every time I give my number to some random man who thinks that striking up a conversation with me at an event means I want to go out with him. Didn't work this time. For seven straight weeks, this gentleman texted me "Hey" and "What's up" DAMN NEAR EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY.  When I wasn't in a bitchy mood, I would respond "Hi" and HE WOULD IMMEDIATELY CALL ME. I've never spent more time at the movies/eating dinner/working late/with my parents before in my life. This negro was relentless. Before some know-it-all asks why I didn't just tell him I wasn't interested, I have already said that I'm not good at rejecting. Besides, someone this clueless would probably ask me to explain why I don't want to date him and quite frankly, I'm just not evil enough to answer.  I honestly thought that one day he would eventually stop trying to contact me. Male ego be damned, he wasn't going to let something like unresponsiveness get in his way. Since my girls and I couldn't figure it out, I asked a guy on the twitter who said that he was either 1) Absolutely clueless, 2) Ignorant as the fuck and would text me daily to bully me into responding or 3) One of those guys who thought persistence was a way to win someone over. I decided to block him to finally end that shit and hopefully I won't have to hide behind a UPS truck if I happen to see him outside of the Walgreens across the street from Washington Park...it's not an easy thing to do. I know one thing though: I will never drunkenly give my phone number to someone I have no intentions of ever calling ever in my whole entire life ever. I'm going back to "I have a man and he won't let me have friends."

The End

Please Don't Be Offended...

...don't ask me to do for you what my employer pays me to do for them.  I taught for nearly seven years, returned to school for a Master's in Human Resources and ever since then, I've been contacted by people who want me to help them with their resumes, give them career advice, or help their friend find a job.  I get it. I'm an HR professional.  I know all about jobs and who doesn't need a job?  The trouble with that is I'm a professional - meaning I expect to be paid for the work that I do and if I do it for you for free, how can I pay my bills?  Feed my family? Sallie Mae doesn't accept smiles in lieu of cash for my student loan payments. If I do all of my friends/associates/former classmates the favor of rewriting their resume for free, when do I get the opportunity to not be at work?  I hope no one is calling their caterer friends and expecting free wedding cakes or their attorney friends expecting free legal work.  There was a point when I felt bad for telling people no, then I felt worse for not getting back to them when they sent me their resumes and I never had time to look at them.  But then, I realized that I shouldn't be the person who felt bad. Sorry folks, but asking someone to take time (and essentially money) to do something for you for free should at least come with the pizza and beer you would offer your friends to help you move or the payment you would remit to a professional you don't know.  I don't want to make anyone feel bad, so I'm providing you with a guide to help determine exactly what to do the next time you need professional help.

I need help doing something but I don't know how to do it.

There are plenty of guides on the internet.  If you are still unsure of your ability to handle your problem, call a professional then pay them

I know someone who is a *insert profession*. Can I ask them for help?

Sure! This is called using your network.  It really helps to know someone in the field of business in which you need assistance.  Once you have made contact with them and they offer to provide services, pay them.

The person I know is not a professional *insert that thing you need them to do* but it would cost me a lot more to hire a professional.  Do I have to pay them, since they're not a professional?

Yes. Unless they offer to volunteer or refuse your money, pay them.

I don't have any money to pay.  Shouldn't the professional do it for me as a favor?

Not unless you ask...and they have the right to say no.  Favors are done at the discretion of the favor giver, not just because you're in need.  Contact a local agency that provides free services if you're unable to pay them.

What about paying it forward?

What about paying for things you need?

Many professionals already do pro bono work (I participate in resume writing and interview workshops for students and people seeking reentry to the workforce after incarceration). Asking them to do free work for you is insulting.  Feel free to disagree if you'd like, just don't be offended when I send you an invoice.

PS: I asked a friend if posting this would be rude and this is what she had to say:

Doctors, lawyers, web design professionals, caterers and many many others would agree.

And people who would ask me to write a resume for free would absolutely ask any of the above for free services as well. They could at least offer to babysit my kids or some shit. Cook me dinner, nigga!

It's like google doesn't exist. Instead of taking the time to pen me a heartfelt email asking for help you have no intention to pay for, spend that time googling 'how to write a resume.'

 

It's like asking a waitress to do the best job she can to serve you, and then not tip her because you know her. It's tacky. 

In short, yes. You should post it. 

You know rich preachers use the same rationale though...

Dates from Hell...and Heaven, too.

In honor of Valentine's Day, I'd like to share with you good people some of the worst dates I've ever had the displeasure of going on.  I don't date a lot because I'm lazy and it takes a lot of effort to beautify myself for someone I'm pretty sure I won't even like...I'm aware of how shitty my attitude is.  This is clearly why I'm single. Or maybe it's because I go out with idiots...like the time I went out with...

The guy who was a complete dick to me 

I got the most disgusting sinus infection while in Miami and was prescribed antibiotics that didn't fucking work.  Before I left, I'd made a date for the following weekend with this guy I met through a friend. I showed up at this fucker's house and waited nearly 30 minutes on him to come outside. I was on the phone so I didn't realize it had taken Jackass that long.  He later claims that he didn't invite me in because I wouldn't let him pick me up...meh...whatever.  I get in his vehicle, he blasts his music, complains that I didn't hug him, takes me to a restaurant 30 miles outside of the city limits and proceeds to treat me like he was doing ME a favor by gracing me with his presence.  I spent the evening drinking tea, ignoring his smart ass mouth, and texting my friends to come get me when he left me alone to go talk to his ex-girlfriend's father for twenty minutes (Special thanks to all the bitches that refused to drive out to the burbs to pick me up).  I even tried to pay my own bill just in case he thought I owed him something (and by something, I mean ass.) As he was driving me back to my car, I took a big ass horse pill with swig of bottled water from my purse.  This dickhead looks at me and says, "Damn, I forgot you was sick.  I wouldn't have been acting like that if I remembered."  Yeah...I hate him.

Date that made up for it: I was exhausted after a field trip to the farm with my kindergarteners so I called my date to reschedule.  He brought me beer and pizza and put together my surround sound.

The guy who thought I was a prostitute

Once upon a time, I used to let men pick me up from home...probably because I lived with my daddy and didn't have a car.  I met a guy who seemed nice enough so when he asked to take me out to dinner, I said ok, gave him my address and waited on him to arrive.  I get in the car and ask where we're going so I could tell someone (I at least had the good sense to make my whereabouts known) and he says it's a surprise.  I was a little skeeved but I was less intelligent in my younger years so I said okay.  As we're driving along, he says, "I need to make a stop first.  Why don't I get us a room and then come back and get you when I'm done?" I was confused as this was my first time being mistaken for a hooker, so I asked him to repeat himself.  Actually, I think I made a horrified face and told him to take me home.  He tried to act as if his request was reasonable. I think I may have started screaming that I wasn't a ho. I made it home without having to provide services for him at the Shamrock Motel on Roosevelt and Cicero.

Date that made up for it: I wanted funnel cake without having to go to a carnival, amusement park, or anywhere else with children.  My date found a place with funnel cake and no children or roller coasters.

The guy who moved way too fast

I once again allowed a guy to pick me up for our first date and when I got in the car, he told me we were stopping by a party, then going out for drinks. We arrive at what looks like an old auto repair shop, walk through the door, and arrive at a party where nearly all of the guests were wearing red and white including the bride and groom because IT WAS A FUCKING WEDDING RECEPTION!! The guy parades me around as I smile psychoticly to keep from screaming profanities and we arrive at a table of old women. The guy grabs my hand as says, "Granny, this is my girlfriend Jennifer." She squeals with delight and says "Oooh!! You got you pretty one!! Sit down and eat." Whoever said all old black women can cook lied because I was forced to eat the most slimiest greens and bland macaroni and cheese that Granny cooked for the wedding all while answering questions about when me and clown ass were getting married.  I excused myself to go to the bathroom, walked right out the door and got on the first bus I saw. I ended up having to call my daddy to pick me up. The psycho called me a million and a half times, showed up at my house, and got chased off by my hoodlum brothers and their hoodlum friends. 

Date that made up for it: He got me Rock the Bells tickets for my birthday...and NOT on the lawn. Our seats were 5 rows from Kid Capri. 

May your Valentine's Day be filled with fun, lust, and lots of butt naked sex in various rooms. 

Four things you really want to know about black people, but are too afraid to ask.

Dear White People,

According to my "Why do/are/can't black people..."google search, you have unanswered questions. I was pretty sure that when Barack Obama became president, a lot of these things would be magically cleared up. I was wrong. It seems as though many of you still have pressing concerns and are afraid to ask the black guy at work for fear of being called racist.  Fear not, for you are probably not a racist...or you are, but you are so offended by race being mentioned to you when you do or say something racist, you ignore the overly sensitive person who always has to bring race into it. I'm here to help you out. I will answer those burning questions you're too afraid to ask your Black Friend, however, I need answers to my questions about your people. 

1) Why do black people love fried chicken?

First of all, WHO DON'T LOVE FRIED CHICKEN?!?!? Why it's still a racial stereotype is beyond me because Colonel Sanders is definitely a white. At some point, fried chicken and watermelon became synonymous with black Americans and began to be used as an insult. It is offensive to us because, usually, making a black people love fried chicken joke is meant to be offensive. I know, I know. It was a joke. Nah, it wasn't. We don't all love fried chicken no more than all Polish people like pierogies. 

My question: Why do white people eat so much mayonnaise? Also, why do y'all try to act like Miracle Whip ain't the same damn thing?

2) Why don't black people tip?

Once upon a time, black people were not allowed to eat in the same restaurants as white people. Later on in history, a nationwide chain of diners was sued because of their systematic mistreatment of black customers. For every news story you see about discrimination at restaurants, there are thousands of unreported incidents of shitty service from waitstaff. I took a friend out for dinner in a pretty expensive restaurant and was treated so poorly by my server that the couple at the table next to us took notice and asked if they could do anything to help...good old white folk, here to save the day. After I reported the server's insolence to the manager, the couple backed me up and told him that they too were disgusted by the waiter's behavior (he was fully capable of attending to their dining needs without a problem).  The jackass was reprimanded and will more than likely blame me and not his shitty attitude for his troubles. Many of us go into restaurants expecting poor service because we're black. Many servers view a table of black guests as not worth their trouble and refuse to put forth the same effort they'd give a table of white guests. Not all black people don't tip. Not all servers treat black guests poorly. Both sides feel justified in their actions, but one came before the other. If it makes you feel better, white people are bad tippers, too.  Pretty sure "Saczynski" isn't a last name that goes with Jamal and Keisha. And look at the rich, white celebrities. What's their excuse?

My question: Why do white people bring their nasty ass dogs to restaurants?

3) Why are black people so loud?

One day, while at work, a woman I later discovered to be a Senior Executive, sat in her office space for the day and proceeded to scream her entire conversations with everyone she called for the entire day WITH HER DOOR WIDE OPEN...a door that could be closed. She was white. Every single day, my coworkers talk loudly about trivial topics, stand next to the cubicles of people who are clearly working and have water cooler talk, and walk through the office continuing conversations with people that are walking away from them. I AM THE ONLY BLACK PERSON IN MY OFFICE!!! Hate to break this to you, white people, but black people are no louder than any other race. If I was behaving in the same manner as my coworkers with another black person, someone would take notice and complain, contributing our volume to our race. Being the minority, anything I do stands out, and preconceived notions about black people begin to apply, no matter how baseless they are. Black men are thugs, black women are welfare queens and unfortunately, in the minds of some, stereotypes will always be attached...so...perhaps, the black person you think is loud isn't actually being any louder than the white person with whom they're speaking. Or, maybe you just should stop ear hustling.

My question: Why do white people take urban (black) slang and run it into the ground? (See: bling)

4) Why can't black people swim?

Once upon a time, many black people could swim and many white people couldn't. The end...but not really. When white people realized how much fun it was, like rap and rock and roll, they misappropriated it...yes, really. Jim Crow laws and segregation created whites only beaches and pools. If you can't get in the water, how can you learn or teach your children to swim? Fast forward 50 years (Yes, we are only 50 years removed from "Whites Only" signs and not removed at all from lingering racial hostilities) and you have generations of black people who can't swim, can't teach their children to swim, and still have no access to water and lessons. Please don't point me in the direction of "programs" that can help; swimming lessons - even when they are free - can be costly to poor families: equipment, transportation to lessons (how many pools are in the hood?), swimwear. It has nothing to do with buoyancy, body type, or any of the other foolish ass reasons I see on the internet. Black women may not like getting our hair wet, but that just means we wouldn't choose swimming as an activity whilst trying to maintain a particular hairstyle, not be the reason many of us are unable to swim. Plain and simple, history is the root of many black people being unable to swim.

My question: Why do white people clap on the 1 and 3, or even worse, EVERY SINGLE COUNT!?!?! 

If you're in a good mood, google: "why do black people..." and prepare to be offended.  You'll be treated to lovely sites like niggermania.com (I refuse to link that shit on my page) and questions like "Why do black people smell bad." (It's badLY, dumbass)  Honestly, I didn't realize that so many ignorant people in this world existed...although, they DO preface their ignorance by saying they have black friends, so it's okay.  I decided not to even acknowledge the questions clearly asked by savages who need to return to their country of origin. I won't tell you why you can't say nigga/nigger/niggaz or why all black men want white women or all black women wear weaves.  I won't dignify questions that are clearly an attempt to troll.  A quick google search will let you know that we are far from being a post-racial society and...that white people ask some really dumb ass questions...

Unless they want to know why they're so smart and beautiful...

Tales from the Cubicle

How can I put this nicely? Working in an office is not my favorite activity.  If I were to put it in words that I would actually say, it would go something like this: The cubicle life fucking sucks.  I hate this shit.  I wanna go home.  I wake up every morning dreading having to leave my comfortable bed to sit in a spinning chair that I can't spin in because apparently, adults shouldn't spin around and scream "Weeeee!!!!!!!!" WHY IN ALL FUCKS DOES IT SPIN THEN!?!?!?!  I love my job.  I love my career.  I love what I do and I'm growing fond of my coworkers but this office shit is for the birds.

1) There are germs EVERYWHERE!!!

I spent the first part of my career in a classroom full of snotty nosed creatures who came to school with disgusting colds.  I decide to give that all up only to find out that these disgusting children grow up to become disgusting adults. STAY YOUR SICK ASS AT HOME!!!!  We get a ridiculous number of days of PTO.  We can do our jobs remotely. People still show up looking like walking death infecting half the office through the recycled air we're forced to rebreathe.  I keep a big ass bottle of Purell and Clorox wipes but my next step is wearing a face mask.  I avoided illness for nearly three years while I was uninsured (OBAMACARE BITCHES!!!!) and two weeks after I start working from the office, both my child and I get the flu. I call bullshit. Truly, as an HR professional, I blame managers who penalize people for using their sick days.  STAY YOUR SICK ASS AT HOME!!!!

2) People really steal lunches.

I seriously thought this was an urban legend, but there are people who will walk their asses into the break room, open the refrigerator and grab the first thing that's available.  I was a victim. I wanted to walk around to every single desk and check every single trash can to find the piece of shit who stole my Lean Cuisine panini.  Who the fuck does this?  How do you sleep at night knowing that you've eaten food that very well may contain someone else's saliva...which is what will be going into every item I put into the refrigerator from now on.  I also decided to label my food. hashtag: passive agressive

3) I'm one social event from becoming the Black Friend

I'm the only black person who comes into the office everyday.  Well, there's me and the cleaning lady...who I haven't seen in a while...hmmm...holy crap!!  There could only be one of us and she had to go...damn.  That's fucked up.  Anyway, everyone needs a Black Friend.  We're really cool.  We're great dancers.  We know slang.  Plus, we make it okay for people to say racist things. "I'm not a racist.  I have black friends!"  So far, so good.  No one has asked to touch my hair...yet. I'm pretty sure things will change when I get my summer braids. Sigh...

4) Bodily functions are no longer controlled by my body's needs

I've spent the past 2 1/2 years being able to fart and shit when I want and my body is NOT happy with these office constraints. How in the hell do you people do it?!?!  My bowels are very regular and they're about to stage a coup against me.  Yesterday, I tried to leave the office to go pass gas out where no one would know it was me and of course, someone asked me where I was going.  I had to quick-lie and say CVS and of course the bitch needed to get cotton balls and potato chips and vaseline so she jumped up and went with me.  I just want to be at home where I don't have to use toilet paper on the seat and I can go with the door open so I don't have to pause my music.  Speaking of music...

5) You can't do shit but listen when your song comes on

I have a Jodeci playlist on Pandora.  Currently, What About Us is playing.  No body rolls.  No singing.  No funk face.  No nothing.  All I can do is sit here and listen to them sing "Shooby doo wop shoo doo wop I wanna love you" and I CAN'T JOIN IN!!!!  In my opinion, listening to music is a participation sport that requires your en...holy fucks!!!  Roni just came on!!!!  I can't even do the rap at the end!!!! Bobby Brown deserves to have his music sang loudly!!! So. Much. Sad.  I've taken to singing behind my hand but that doesn't hide the faces I make when my joint is on, nor does it keep me from looking like I'm about to have a seizure because my body goes into autoroll.  I think I may have to start listening to Beethoven or something.

I need to convince someone to let me work from home again.  I think I would be much more productive without all of these distractions...