I LOVE Lazy Weekends...

I don't get many lazy weekends at all. Heck, I don't get many lazy days. Being a single mother working two (plus) jobs, days where I get to do absolutely nothing are at a premium. And I was about due.

So this past Friday, I took the day off from both jobs and asked my sister to take my son to school, which meant I got to SLEEP IN. This is a rare luxury for me and I absolutely, positively loved it. What I didn't mean to do, however, was sleep all day. I didn't get up until five in the afternoon. But oh well...it's not like I had anywhere to be. Other than going to get my son from Boys and Girls Club, I didn't leave the house. I just camped out on my sofa from heaven and played Sims.

Saturday I did go to work, but I only stayed part of the day because I had a previous engagement. But I was still very tired and decided to take a nap beforehand (which I should know better than to do, since I never seem to want to get up from naps) and I ended up not even going to that engagement. I turned my alarm off and rolled right back over. Then after I got up, I made an apple pie before spending the rest of the evening camped out on my heavenly sofa playing Sims.

Today, I overslept and missed church (which I'm not proud of) and I turned on Food Network while I camped out on my God-sent sofa and played Sims. I did get up and do some productive stuff (laundry, dinner) but then I parked it yet again on my sofa-that-should-be-dipped-in-bronze and watched the Spring Baking Championship on Food Network with my son.

It's also been quite a sports weekend...my Hawks knocked out the Nets and moved on to the second round of the NBA playoffs (then we lost in the first game today to the Wizards, but I'm not gonna let that faze me); there was the NFL draft (which I only watched the first round of but I did enjoy it), baseball and hockey (no interest), the Kentucky Derby (even less interest), and the Mayweather-Pacquiao fight (which I certainly wasn't going to pay for and didn't care enough about to go anywhere else to watch). I've enjoyed the NBA playoffs and game 7 of the Clippers/Spurs series was EPIC...hard to believe that was just a first round game. That whole series was intense but I'm glad the Clippers took it...I'm not a Spurs fan, but I respect their professionalism and sportsmanship.

The only thing that would have made this weekend better was if I had a shirtless, ripped chocolate Adonis in my kitchen cooking and feeding it to me, and then rubbing my feet as I basked in the 'itis.' And playing in my hair as we sat on my celestial sofa while I played Sims.

It's been a great weekend. This is the closest I'll get to a vacation for a while, probably, so I'm savoring these last few hours of nothingness before I'm back to the regularly scheduled program at 7:00 AM tomorrow.

Until next time...

20 Random JT Tidbits

Helloooo...

So I'm sitting here, just having gotten home from my second job and watching some postgame commentary from the Clippers/Spurs game (I'm pulling for the Clippers...complimentary random fact) and thought that while I'm sitting here, why not do something moderately productive and give some attention to my blog, which I know I'm not very diligent with.

BUT, since I'm quite tired right now and don't have a deep, thought-provoking topic in mind, I thought I'd keep it light and just share some random things you all might or might not know about me. Maybe you'll find it interesting. If not, well...not too much I can do about that. :)

So, here they are, in no particular order:

1. I do not like leather furniture.

2. My favorite scent is Clean Linen. I get my air freshener, carpet cleaner, fabric softener, car vent clips, everything I can in that scent. It's awesome.

3. Putting whipped cream, salt, or excess cheese on something is just as good as ruining it for me. I absolutely hate all three of those. (And ketchup, too, most of the time).

4. Hairy chests on men are something of a turn-off. But not a deal-breaker.

5. I actually LOVED being pregnant. If I could be a surrogate for someone, I'd absolutely do it.

6. Tank is my favorite male singer; Anita Baker is my favorite female singer; Dru Hill and Jodeci are tied for my favorite group.

7. My voice has always been my least-favorite feature about myself. If I had ten dollars for every time I've been called 'sir' I could quit my second job.

8. I've never travelled internationally.

9. Do not give me eggs, mashed potatoes, oatmeal, grits, just about any kind of beans (except baked and green), liver, mac and cheese, or dark meat. I don't care for those at all (though I will eat dark meat before I'll eat any of the rest of that stuff).

10. I actually kind of enjoy vacuuming.

11. Once ice cream goes soft, I don't want it anymore.

12. I was born at Crawford Long Hospital in Atlanta, GA.

13. My major in college was Sport Management.

14. I've never colored my hair. I actually like my grey. (Sub-fact: I've had grey hair since I was sixteen).

15. Modern Family is one of my favorite shows.

16. I sleep on my couch more than I do in my bed. My couch is heaven.

17. Sims is my all-time favorite video game. I can waste serious time playing that.

18. Coffee and tea are only tolerable to me if they're flavored. Even then neither would be my beverage of choice. (I drink water 95% of the time).

19. French fries are my ultimate weakness. I could eat them every single day, multiple times a day. Just don't put salt on them. (I also adore roasted potatoes).

20. I'm not ticklish.


I could probably come up with more but I'll leave it at that. Gotta save some stuff for later, right? :)


I'm going to put it on my calendar to do another blog this week. I'm doing it right now...okay, done.

Well, I'm gonna go back to chilling and getting my mind ready for another work week. I probably should make some dinner or something, too.

Moving and Writing and Tweeners

Hello people. I've been MIA for a minute because there's just been so much going on that blogging hasn't exactly been at the top of my to-do list. Shame on me.

But for those that care, I'm getting myself back together. One of the biggest things I've been dealing with has been my recent move. My son and I moved across town and even though I've moved before, I don't remember it being this stressful. I severely underestimated how long it was going to take and the stress I was going to incur from it; I (stupidly) thought it was going to be a piece of cake. But I was so, so wrong. You accumulate so much stuff over the years that you don't even realize everything you have when it's time to pick up and move it. Purging and cleaning and laundering and tossing and packing took way more out of me than I thought it would. But we finally got it done...then came the unpacking. Whole 'nother story altogether (let's just say it's been over a month and there are still a couple of boxes that I stuck in a closet so I wouldn't have to look at them. I'll find somewhere to put their contents eventually).

So aside from that, I've been working on finishing my latest book, Grown and Forbidden, which I just did in the last week or so. There's nothing like the rush of completing a book you've hunched over your computer working on for weeks (or months). I can't wait to put out my 6th book, Take One for the Team, which is the story of a tired single mother who must choose between love or money. This was a fun one to write, and I'm already playing around with a possible sequel. But I might leave it as it is, due to the ending. Don't know yet. :)

My other books are doing well...do you have yours?

Some Like 'em Thick

 

It's All Right...Now

 

 

 

 

Not By a Long Shot

 

 

 

Get Right

 

 

Decisions and Consequences

 

 

 

My fingers are itching to start on the next one (or rather, continue it because I'm already a chapter or so in), but in the meantime, I'm working on some other necessary things (i.e. promotion). There's always something to do but thankfully, I happen to love this stuff. :)

So in addition to this awesomeness, I'm dealing with having a pre-teen son (or a tweener, as I think they're also called). He's going to be twelve this year and is growing body hair and wants privacy when he didn't before, and has announced his intentions to stay with his current "girlfriend" years from now. I can't say I'm looking forward to the day he brings some little chickadee home to meet me, but I know that day will be here before I know it. It already seems like just yesterday that he was crawling around the house and still small enough for me to pick up (he's almost as tall as I am now). He's still getting acclimated to the extra chores he's been graced with since the move...I've already had the fun of waking him up at the wee hours of the morning because he didn't wash all the dishes or clean the bathroom properly. I can't tell you how  many times my mother did that to me and my older sister when we were growing up (mostly for the dishes...we were not to leave them unwashed overnight). And that phone I got him for his last birthday stays glued to his hand. I wonder if I would have been like that if cell phones were as in as they are now back when I was his age. I didn't even get a pager until I was maybe eighteen or nineteen and my first cell phone was a Tracfone I won playing Bingo when I was twenty-something.

So, anyway, pray for me. lol


Oh, look at the time...I need to get ready for the night job. It's been real...until next time, people. :)

Relieve Yourself of the Bathroom Shame

Okay, so...I know I haven't posted in a while and this is a heck of a subject to come back on, but...

Why are so many ladies hesitant to use the bathroom at work?

In an effort to maintain at least some modicum of decorum I'll keep it classy, but just know when I say 'using the bathroom' (hereafter referred to as UTB), I'm not talking about peeing. I'm talking about the other thing you do in there.

I've been working in offices for years now and I've noticed that some women go out of their way to cover up the fact that they've had to UTB at work. And I admit it's not the most pleasant thing to be associated with, but really. What's the big deal? It's something everybody does...it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. Heck, if you're not doing it, you might want to get yourself checked out. But women will go to an entirely different floor to use the bathroom, or stay in their stall forever waiting for the bathroom to empty before they come out, so no one will know they're the ones that emptied their bowels and left that bodily scent in the air. Or even more ridiculous, they wait until they get home. And I admit, I've been guilty of all of these. But now, I really don't care. It's amazing the freedom that comes with that.

This freedom was a long time coming. Back in the day, I remember when I was in elementary or middle school, and I had to UTB at school one time. I tried to hurry up and get out of there before anybody else came in, but I wasn't quick enough. Someone else came in (and I won't name names, even though I remember exactly who it was due to the mild trauma it caused) and called me out in front of a few other people. I was extremely embarrassed. I think that's where my complex/phobia about UTB in public started.

But now I'm an adult and I don't have time to be ducking and dodging whenever I have to UTB. I have next to no bathroom shame. I go in there, do my business, and get out. If someone wants to talk about me because of that, so be it. It is what it is. I recall one time a couple of years ago when I was about to walk into the bathroom and a co-worker was coming out, and warned me that I might not want to go in there 'cause someone just blew it up (which is what some people call it when you UTB). I didn't have much of a response. I don't like smelling the effects of that any more than anybody else, but...isn't that what you're supposed to do in the bathroom? Isn't that what bathrooms are for? I know how to hold my breath if I need to.

Why do we, as grown women, have to be embarrassed about something that's natural? And why do we have to try to make people ashamed of it or ridicule them for it? I mean, for real...let's grow up. It's the bathroom, not the kitchen or a lounge. You don't go in there to eat or hang out or anything else. You go in there to relieve yourself of fluids and waste. None of that is going to smell like potpourri. Get over it.


Until next time, people...

Weak Men to the Left

I know I haven't blogged in a little while (and I won't bore you with why that is) but this particular subject has been on my mind for a little while and I knew the next blog I wrote was going to be about this.

Now, let me get this on out of the way up front; I LOVE MEN. Love 'em. This is not a man-bashing post or any of that nonsense. But it is bringing attention to something that I find itchingly irksome.

There are way too many weak men. 

Let me explain what I mean. Now, I love my fellow sistas...I'm all for women's empowerment and a having an adequate level of independence and going for yours and all that. And some might not appreciate what I'm gonna say, but oh well.

One thing I've noticed is that in our constant struggle to be taken more seriously and be that strong woman that we are often situationally forced to be, we tend to emasculate the men around us. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. But too many times, it is. I've seen it firsthand so I'm not just pulling stuff out of the sky, here. Women get to enjoying the smell of their own perfume and perspiration a little too much and start getting a little too big for their tailored britches. We make the men in our lives think that they're inferior, that we don't need them, even that we're doing them some kind of favor by even being there.

But what's even worse is, the men allow this to happen. Dudes can be absolute beasts at work or anywhere else, but when they get around their women, they're like puppies. Women are often the heads of the household or the outspoken ones while the men just kind of hang in the back.

This isn't what I'm used to. I know times are different now, but when I was coming up, it was known that while my mother might have had the more in-your-face personality, my father ran things. Period. He was the head. We deferred to him. He asked for my mother's input, not her permission. And when I see how things have gone so far from this lately, it irritates me. Sometimes I just want to shake these men and scream "Where the *bleep* is your backbone?? Man up!"

I believe that art imitates life, even if it's just to a certain extent. And when I'm watching television, even the commercials, you see examples of what I'm talking about all the time:

A couple gets an insurance check and the wife snatches it out of her husband's hand and walks off with it.
A wife turns her husband's man cave into a mom cave.

Men automatically accepting the blame and apologizing for things they may or may not even be at fault for, just to keep the peace (or to still be able to get some at the end of the night).

Men that know they are in the right but always end up caving because they're so freakin' whipped. Maybe to some women this is a turn-on or something, but to me, it's a repellent. I do not want a man I can walk all over. I love and respect a man who can admit when he's wrong, but I also appreciate a man who has the balls to check me when I am, too, and we just don't see enough examples of that.

And with as much television as kids and teens watch nowadays, that's how they think it should be. Life begins to imitate art. Plenty of times I've seen little girls try to boss little boys around, and the boys just take it. Like Rudy and Bud on the Cosby Show. Clair might have set Rudy straight on that in that instance, but not enough women are are doing the same to other little girls.

And I mention this example in the Cosby Show, but there have also been examples on there between Cliff and Clair where it infuriated me how Cliff let Clair tell him what to do or have the final say or dictate what's going to be done, despite his objections. And he just let her do it. 

Look, there's nothing wrong with being strong. As women, we have to be. We've been discriminated against and overlooked so much in so many ways that in our efforts to be taken seriously and seen as equals, we've kind of gone overboard with it. I have a son, and that's enough; I want my man to be a man, not like another child I have to check after and boss around. Women often scold men like they scold their children, or give them the evil eye until they concede or start withholding stuff like sex until the get their way. Frankly (and excuse my language), this is some bulls**t. I wouldn't want a man that would let me do that. Dude, don't just throw your hands up and give in because you don't want to argue. Stand your freakin' ground. Now, don't go all to the left with it and try to be a dictator or anything like that, but you're supposed to be in this thing together.

Now I'm gonna say something else my sistas might not like but, again, oh well:

Women, it's not all about us. 

We cannot always get our way. We shouldn't always have to have the last word. You're not any less of a strong woman if you admit that you're wrong (in fact, you're more so). Your man telling you 'no' doesn't mean he doesn't love you. And even if you come with the good job-good sense-good sex package, that doesn't mean you're a prize that can't be given back. Recognize that being submissive doesn't mean being weak or inferior. Quit trying to be the 'bad bitch' and focus on being the helpmeet to your man.  

A lot of people regale low self-esteem to being a women's problem but please believe, men suffer from it, too. And especially if they've never had many girlfriends coming up or they don't think much of themselves, they might be so blown away that anyone wants them at all that they're willing to accept anything.

The show The Big Bang Theory is an excellent example of this. I love the show overall, but those men are so used to being bullied and walked on that they let the women around them talk to them any kind of way and get away with just about anything. Every now and then they'll put a little steel in their spine but usually, they're doormats. I can't say how many times I've screamed "Punk!" at the television screen when Leonard caved in to Penny about something or other. Or heck, when they've given in to Sheldon and his ridiculous demands. It doesn't always have to be about a woman; it can be other people in general. And yes, I recognize that not everyone has the same upbringing and examples and whatnot. But my original point remains: generally, men have just gotten too freakin' weak. And there is nothing hot about that. 

Or maybe you just have weak moments, as many of us do at times, and it's not necessarily the norm but it still happens way more than it should. If you find yourself giving in more than you want to because you want to keep things smooth and not ruffle any feathers or avoid an argument, I hope you recognize you're not really helping anything in the long run. Because after a while, this will be expected of you. It's like a child who constantly throws temper tantrums to get their way. You've gotta put your foot down and show them that's not gonna work. Same thing with your woman or whoever else. Heck, if arguing is what it takes, argue and get it over with. It doesn't have to drag out forever. Deal with it and move on, but don't concede simply because you don't have the strength to stand up for yourself or you're afraid of them walking out the door if you do. You deserve to be respected just like your woman does. 

*exhaling* So glad I got that off my chest...with that being said, until I tattle next time! #peaceloveandwords 

Fitness Bullies and Fitness Snobs...Not Cool

I've noticed a surprising trend since I've joined Instagram...there are a lot of people who clearly think a lot of themselves since they devote a lot of time to fitness and log a lot of gym hours, and have single-digit body fat.

There are countless fitness or fitness-related pages on Instagram. And most of the ones I've seen are pretty cool and provide good tips and motivation for those of us who aren't quite as devoted or knowledgeable about the body and how to whip it into shape.

But there are a select few who insert a lot of snide comments about anyone who doesn't have the same fanatical attitude about working out as they do. And whether this is intentional or not, I don't know.

But I wonder if they realize or if someone has ever mentioned to them how certain sayings like "Your workout is my warmup" come across.

Or how it sounds when they denounce anyone even mentioning the words 'rest day.'

I've seen someone respond to one of their followers with a comment about their body that I wonder if they would have had the nerve to say in person; it was talking about their seemingly high body fat percentage and was unnecessarily rude and childish. I've un-followed many a fitness bully/snob who has said crap like this. Anyone who doesn't live in the gym and count every calorie or macro as they do is automatically considered a lazy slacking bum who doesn't respect the temple that is their body. 

Well, let me just say this about myself...I like to work out, but it's not all I have to do. I am a single mother who works two jobs, writes books, goes to church, does massages on occasion, etc. I have more things to do than work out.

I certainly want to look good and not cringe whenever I look at my unclothed body in the mirror, but two or three-a-day workouts do not fit into my daily schedule.

Working out is maintenance for me; it is not my job. I'm not trying to be in anybody's fitness competition. And nobody is going to make me feel bad about that.

Now, if you're a personal trainer or fitness model or something like that and that's what you do, then hey, more power to you. If you choose to account for every crumb you put into your mouth and count macros (I still don't know what that is) and carry Tupperware containers of pre-prepped meals everywhere you go because you don't trust anyone to prepare things along with your strict guidelines, that's your business.

But I choose not to live like that. I like to have the occasional pizza or cheesecake or juice that's not homemade. I might go a day or two without working out, for whatever reason. And I'm fine with that. This does not make me lazy, a slacker, a bum, a couch potato, or any of the other colorful names the fitness bullies and snobs like to adorn people with. So what if I don't look like you? I don't want to. It's perfectly fine with me that I have some meat on my bones; I'm not trying to be all cut up and stuff like that. If you are, then perhaps all of that is necessary.

But even if that's what you choose to do, why do you think that gives you license to downtalk those who don't? It amazes me that people actually think they're superior because they have great bodies. That's all good and everything, but is that all you have going for yourself? Is having bulging biceps and firm glutes and flat abs your biggest accomplishment? Hmm.

So anyway...if you happen to be one of these people that like to belittle those who don't share your love for fitness and nutrition, you might need to check yourself. Just like you have the right to work out for hours a day, other people have the right not to. It's cool to try to motivate and inspire folks, because taking care of yourself certainly is important and some people need guidance, but be mindful of what you say and how you say it. That's all.

'Cause something can happen that can put you flat on your back and you won't be able to work out or control what you eat...then what?

My Son is 10 and I'm Old

I'm ten days late with this (what a coincidence, eh?) but my son turned ten years old on the eighth of this month. I still can't really believe it. Seems like he was just born yesterday! 

So my son, whose name is Langston, told me months ago that he wanted to go to Sky Zone for his birthday and to my utter surprise, he actually stuck to that decision and didn't change his mind twelve times like he usually does. Hey, kids can be fickle. But I guess he really wanted to go there, so I didn't have a problem with it. Anybody that knows me or who follows me on Facebook knows if I don't love anything else, I LOVE my son. You only turn ten once and I wanted his to be a good one. So here is how his day went:

In the morning we went to church, before (okay, and after) which he grudgingly posed for a bunch of pictures at my request. He actually told me that I was doing to much and said, "It's not like I'm going off to college." I don't even want to think about that day...I know I'm gonna be a mess! 

So after church, I rounded up a few of his friends and cousins and we stopped by the Shell station where I let them loose to choose their own snacks (children can be so easy to please). It's almost amazing how excited they were about that. 

Then we went back to the house for a while, where they watched the Falcons and played around the house while I changed clothes and watched Food Network. 

Then, we headed to Sky Zone. I was speeding down the highway 'cause I had already bought the tickets and we would only have 90 minutes to jump, so I wanted to make sure I got all my money's worth and we live a nice little bit from the place. We got there right at our reservation time, meeting some more of our family there. We had to fill out waivers for all the kids, slapped their stickers on their chests, then let them jump and frolic and play to their little hearts' content. Oh, they had an absolute ball; jumping on the trampolines, diving into the Foam Zone, soaring through the air to dunk basketballs in the Sky Slam Court, and playing dodge ball. I was posting all kinds of stuff on Instagram that day. All of us adults just sat and roamed around and watched, taking pictures. I was kind of wishing I could get out there, but I figured us grown folks could come back for our own little play date another day. 

So next, (after hanging out in the parking lot for a while throwing a football and tripping out), we all headed to Stevie B's to pig out. (On the way the boys took turns telling Yo Mama jokes. I admit I added a couple). The boys sat at their own little table and we sat at ours, talking and watching whatever football game was on the television. And of course, they couldn't go to Stevie B's without playing in the arcade. Langston won a bunch of tickets and redeemed them for something I'm sure he probably lost an hour later, but he enjoyed it so no comment from me. 

Then, we went to Wal-Mart so Langston could pick out his birthday gift from me. I went about it this way 'cause really, I didn't know what to get him (he wanted a pair of Lebron shoes, but I already told him he could forget that). In past years it was easy; he went from Spiderman to Batman to Ben 10 to Bay Blades as far as his obsession of the year (I feel like I'm forgetting one) but he didn't have one this year. If anything he's just into sports equipment. And he loves Elite socks (and always manages to lose one of every pair he gets). So we walked around Wal-Mart for probably close to an hour and out of that whole store, he chooses a football (to add to the five or six he already has) and a laser pointer to use to mess with my mother's cat. SMH moment, but hey, it was his birthday. 

THEN, after dropping his last friend off, we stopped at our favorite local eating spot, Bubba Mac's (see my Funk Food post), where the owner was cool enough to offer him either a free wing plate or some money for his birthday. He chose the money. Big shock there. 

Then I dropped him off at his dad's. I was T-I-R-E-D and couldn't wait to get to my bed. Before he got out of the car, he hugged me and said that was the best birthday he had ever had, and he thanked me for putting it together for him and for being such an awesome mom. That made my night and also made me forget about any fatigue I had; the fact that he enjoyed his day so much was all I wanted. 

So yeah, I have a ten year old son. Before I know it, I'll blink and he'll be a teenager. Then he'll be dating (so not ready to think about that). Then he'll be graduating high school and going off to college somewhere. Time goes by so fast...my son is ten, and I'm five years from forty. *shudder*

Oh well. :)