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...

20 Questions to Ask Yourself in 2014

Every day, I strive to become a better person than the day before.  This is very difficult, as I'm a pretty awful person as demonstrated by my previous post. I'm in a constant struggle to adjust my behavior to make it suitable for social interaction but it seems that some people are under the very incorrect impression that their flaws are acceptable and that everyone else should accept them, too. Nah, son. That's not how this works, you really need to make sure your life is right or at least improving. Don't worry, I'm joining you.  Here are 20 questions you (I) need to ask regularly ask yourself (myself) to keep your imperfections in check and be a better person

1) Do I sound crazy right now?

When you're having a discussion with someone and they look at you like you're crazy, you've probably said something irrational, illogical, or just plain nutballs. I get this look all the time. I'm learning how to stop myself before it happens, then write it down for a future blog post.  It usually makes sense after I write it down and tweak it for others to understand. 

2) Am I doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result?

You do realize this is the very definition of insanity, right? Do you want to lose weight but eat the same foods? Do you want to meet new people but go to the same places? Do you want a promotion but do just your job, nothing more, nothing less? If you want something to change, THEN SOMETHING HAS TO CHANGE!!! 

3) Am I really that nice of a guy?

Nice guys don't finish last. Pushovers do. Being a nice person is just that, nice. What else can you bring to the table besides good manners? Name one job where being nice is a requirement...I'll wait...THERE AREN'T ANY!!! How many times have you encountered a worker who wasn't very pleasant so you complain to their manager, come back to the same place six months later AND THEY STILL WORK THERE!?!? No one cares how nice you are because 9 times out of 10, you're probably not all that nice in the first place. 

4) Why don't I have any female friends?

Some women love to brag that they don't have any female friends. You, ma'am, are the problem. Being a good friend knows no gender so it's quite likely that you're an asshole. No, really. It's you, not them. 

5) What do I want to be when I grow up?

Perhaps you've found the perfect career and want to be an optometrist until the day you die. More likely than not, you will grow bored of kids cheating on their eye exams because glasses are cool now and want to drop kick every dipshit that comes into the office refusing to believe they need bifocals. It might be time to move on. You don't have to drop thousands on a new degree (like I did). Take some classes, find out if your current employer allows internal transfers, get a hobby. If you love your field, mentor newcomers, learn new techniques, teach a class but NEVER STOP GROWING!

6) When was the last time I used/wore this?

A friend of mine gives me a year. I say two. Longer than that? Throw/give it away. 

7) What have I done for someone else without the expectation of reciprocation?

Quite simply, are you doing things for others just because? Are you teaching your children that there's more to life than what someone can do for them? It feels good to do nice things for others and if it doesn't, go seek help. You might be a narcissist. 

8) Where am I going next?

Get up and go! Take a weekend trip. Go to that exotic locale. Don't waste your sick days on actually being sick. Plan a vacation and go see something new. If no one wants to go with you, go alone. Just. Go. 

9) What will I read next?

Oh. So you don't read. It's probably why you don't know the difference between you're and your and why you think it's an escape goat. Read a fucking book.

10) Am I talking about it or being about it?

The same wise friend from before once said that everyone knows eating right and working out equals weight loss but unless you actually eat right and work out, talking about it is meaningless. Words without action will get you nowhere. 

11) What's my status?

In 2014, no one should be unaware of their HIV status. Get tested. Now. 

12) If I die tomorrow, who is in charge of deleting my hard drive?

My best friend knows she better be on the first plane to Chicago handling my affairs which include shredding every page of my journal, smashing my cell phone, and destroying everything in my top right dresser drawer. 

13) Do I need to call a professional?

Therapist. Attorney. Plumber. Mechanic. Therapist. Therapist. THERAPIST. 

14) Do I have time for this? 

Additionally, how can I make time for that? There are 168 hours in a week. Are you using each of them wisely? What tasks can you delegate to others to give yourself more time? Budget your time like you budget your money. They're the same thing, right?

15) Does my (relationship, friendship, job, body etc.) make me happy?

Life is too short to be miserable with things you can change. Nearly every problem has a solution and if you can't figure it out yourself, there's someone else who can. Calm the hell down and ask somebody for help.

16) Am I too old for this?

With age should come wisdom...so stop doing the same dumb shit you did when you were in your teens and twenties. Sorry, but it's time to stop shopping in the juniors department. Adult clothes don't come in odd sizes so no, you don't wear a size 7, you 36 year old woman. If you have to get your suit off the rack, at least have it tailored and take that 100% wool tag off the sleeve. You're also too old to: get pregnant on accident, fight in the club, and post twerk videos. Act your age...you know the rest.

17) Will these small purchases keep me from getting the big thing that I really want?

A running joke among Target shoppers is going in for toilet paper and coming out $300 poorer. STAY AWAY FROM THE RED TAGS!!! At some point, impulse buys hinder your ability to do things you really want to do: buy a house, go on a fabulous vacation, get new boobs. Saying no to the little things means you can say yes to the big things. 

19) Do I really like this bitch?

We tend to hold onto friendships long past their expiration dates. Call it nostalgia, but no one wants to end a 20 year friendship even when it should have ended 19 years ago. Sometimes, it's best to end things on a grown apart note. If you don't, you may end up hating someone you once loved dearly. 

20) How will I feel afterwards?

Do you really wanna look through that phone? Take that 6th shot? Have sex without that condom. Eat that Big Mac. Ask that question? I'm all for living in the moment but adulthood is about consequences...and knowing them before you act. Whatever you do, understand that you might find a text from her other boyfriend. You might get a DUI. You might contract an STD. You might gain weight. You might hear no when you wanted a yes. Be prepared for the outcome.    

I ask myself a lot of questions, I tend to talk to myself...often. Shut up, it's normal. I'm far from perfect and so are you and so is he and so is she. It isn't that difficult to admit this to ourselves but doing something about it is where we tend to fall short. It's ok to want to do better. Promise. 

Five Things I Really, Really Love

Disclaimer: I was about to post about Richard Sherman but decided that I wanted to keep my blog a happy place and not cuss anyone clear the fuck out so I proceeded with my previously planned post instead.  Happy Hump Day!!

So far, my postings have been lists...I promise that won't always be the case, but as I was considering topics for this week, I kept coming up with ideas that involved me complaining about things that bother me.  I don't want to be that person this year, so I decided to shift my focus for at least this post...I can't give you sunshine and rainbows all year long mostly because bitches be pissing me off and shit but I'll try for this week.  Today, I'm a happy camper and I want to share what makes me feel good. *hint: It's not bacon...well, it is...just not on this list.

1) Making plans

I LOVE TO PLAN SHIT!!!  Give me an event, a theme, and a budget and I will plan the shit out of it down to the very last detail.  Vacations, parties, and grocery lists are treated with the same care.  Most of this stems from my need to be in control of everything and my inability to not buy stuff.  I currently have a Mardi Gras themed birthday party and a vacation to Morocco in the works.  I don't know why I don't do this for a living...probably because I get bored easily and my child would starve when I decide planning stuff isn't what I feel like doing right now.

2) Inside jokes

A friend of mine can say "27 seconds" and I will laugh like a fool.  We are the only two people who know what it means and it makes me feel really good to share a secret with someone.  Inside jokes are the best thing to ever happen to friendships and I'm juvenile enough to find comfort in laughing at something other people don't know.

3) Dresses and open toed shoes

I have 54 pairs of open toed shoes.  I have maybe 7 pairs of boots.  I know I live in Chicago.  I know I can get more wear out of boots than a peep toe stiletto.  I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT.  I also have more dresses than sweaters. Who gon' check me?!?!?  If you invite me to an event where dresses are an option, I'm buying a new one. I have enough dresses and shoes to outfit a freshman class of girls for their high school homecoming dance...in a small town, of course. Look at my happy smiles!!!

DRESSES AND TOES!!!

4) True Crime Shows 

I can get away with murder. Like, literally. I've watched enough Investigation Discovery to pull off the perfect crime. I've seen every episode of Snapped. I can pinpoint where everyone goes wrong and know exactly how to avoid these pitfalls. Fortunately, I'm not a sociopath, but if I had slightly less emotional connection to others, I'd totally be a serial killer...one who never gets caught. Jen the Ripper. 

5) Popping pimples

I will extract the shit out of your blackheads so don't fall asleep anywhere near me if you've got untreated acne. I've got a medicine cabinet full of facial treatments and tools: Biore strips, benzoyl peroxide, scrubs, masks...giggety. I swear I get all tingly at the sight of a perfectly ripened zit ready for me to squeeze. It's gross but I don't care. I'm popping. 

This list was pretty difficult to narrow down...I had to leave off the obvious things: sex, bacon, wine, beer, football, Gouda. I love all of those things...I should do this again. I love a lot of shit.

Ten Trifling Facts About Me

My best friend vowed to keep me laced in topics so she sent me a video called 10+ Triflin Facts Abt Me by the hilarious Jouelzy. I am NOT trifling so of course, I was offended...nah...she's right, this topic is absolutely perfect as I am trifling as shit. I have no qualms about it, qualms are for punk ass bitches. Instead, I embrace my trife, try to do better, and hope God forgives me when I inevitably fail.

1) I report posts as spam or inappropriate if I think it's stupid, we go together and too many chicks like it, or I just don't like you. 

DO NOT JUDGE ME!! You're just mad you didn't think of it first. I know I could block or unfollow but no one asked you for your mature, unpetty solution.

2) I intentionally antagonize churchfolk when they start acting all high and mighty about their Jesus and church and salvation and the bible and stuff. 

I grew up a COGIC kid. I know The Lord. I love Him just as much as the next sinner but when churchfolk start acting up, I find it quite amusing to go all atheist on their asses. 

3) I also antagonize my mother-un-law. 

She's a crazy person. She deserves it. My favorite move is to say something I know will set her off then remain eerily calm and logical whilst she screams and rants and whines, then respond to her using my soothing kindergarten teacher voice.  It's pretty awesome.

4) I'm a certified scofflaw. 

My car has been booted more times than I should ever admit. I never pay meters. I park in tow zones. Permit parking? If I live in this city, why should I have to pay to put my car on it's streets. I hid my car in my driveway, parking lots, and valets for two years on the boot list. The Department of Revenue can eat a fat one. 

5) I'm mean to children and animals. 

Pets can't talk and kids don't understand when I'm insulting them. Now you know not to ask me to be your sitter. 

6) If you DO leave your child in my care, I WILL allow them to do whatever they want. 

Fruit snacks and milkshakes for breakfast? Jump off the couch onto a pile of pillows? Write on the walls? Scary movies? Yeah, I'm not saying no to anything they ask. 

7) I used part of my savings to buy new boobs instead of paying off my car a year early.

Just in case you were wondering, my breasts are both silicone and stunning. 

8) I wash my dishes on an as needed basis. 

And by "as needed" I mean my kid is tired of eating her cereal from a cup and with a fork or the stench is so horrendous, I'm worried the smell will seep into my pores every time I walk into the kitchen. 

9) I have taught my child the 5 second rule to which she firmly adheres.

Yes...I let her eat Skittles off the floor so take your damn shoes off when you come into my house.

And finally...

10) I blamed Santa for eating all of my daughter's oatmeal raisin cookies. 

I sneaky ate an entire bag over the course of a week and on Christmas Day, I left the empty package on the table for her to find. Yes. It was premeditated.

I could probably list a million more trife ass things, which makes me both sad and proud at the same time.  I'm pretty comfortable with my imperfections...I try to do better but the petty keeps calling me back.  Question is: Are you comfortable with your trifling ways? Tell me, what is one trifling fact about you?  If you leave a comment, I'll try...um...promise not to judge.