I'm embracing the ever-evolving, paradoxically new yet older me.


asinine things he said

"Black women have such nappy hair. Not even black men think they are attractive. Have you ever seen a porn movie with a black woman?"

"What's the difference between your dog and a racoon? Explain that."

"There is a reason for AIDS. It's 100% preventable, and look who's dying from it: homosexuals."

"I'm just more of a Christian than you."

"The problem with women is..." (I didn't hear the rest of that one, thank God!)

And the other jackass whose name also starts with J texted me last night at 6:30 with the ever so clever, "Need a buddy?" I thought he had gotten the message about the importance of advance plans. Was I wrong.

When I said I already had a buddy for the evening, he replied, "You wanted to hang out with me tonight." And I said, "U said u'd call." Then he, "Glad I didn't." Gees...

Maybe I should stop meeting men at the tavern. Any suggestions for a new hangout?


week in review

Last Monday -- uneventful but very enjoyable date night, except that he called me an ultra-leftist liberal democrat, which is only partly true, and he said I should "soften" my personality. However, he also played his guitar and sang some beautiful songs just for me.

Thursday -- actual fight in my classroom; a violent grill-wearing short but stocky black guy slammed into a bigmouth tall skinny Brazilliam fellow who called him "ugly;" they knocked over a desk, knocked the girl in it against the wall, then fell to the floor where they rolled around until several other boys pulled them apart. Very unsettling.

Friday -- endured unusually bad service at the tavern due to an unusually large crowd attracted by a less than mediocre band; ended up at Waffle House.

Saturday -- couldn't get my much anticipated haircut because for some strange reason the salon had no power; drove to Cville where I spent an hour with my parents, then to Rome where I had lunch with my sister, played with my precious nephew, and pulled my grandmother away from her afternoon game of bingo at the nursing home; in my bed asleep at 9:00.

Sunday -- stopped by PF Chang's for a drink (I got a tall mai tai) so that Jenn could stalk cute waiter guy; shared some spring rolls and steamed veggie dumplings; then cute waiter guy brought us a complimentary dessert of fried bananas and ice cream drizzled with caramel; next, drove to Smyrna for dinner around 9ish; ate some meatballs, followed by a full bowl of salad, then a slice of pork roast with wild rice and carrots, and finally a heavenly piece of cheesecake; washed it all down with a couple of glasses of red wine.

I guess it's no surprise I woke up feeling sickish today.


out of nowhere

I broke up a fight in my classroom right before lunch yesterday. Well, it wasn't actually a fight yet, but two boys were chesting up to each other and one of them was flinging the mo fo bomb with vehemence and a look of complete rage in his eyes. So I jumped in between them, grabbed the most volatile one by the shoulders, and sat him back in his desk. I held his hand and waved my other hand in his face for about two minutes while telling him to get a grip until he sort of got over it. Luckily, the rest of the class was hushed into a shocked silence instead of urging them on.

After class, I told the violent mo fo that he could fight anyone he wanted to on his own time, but he would not ruin my class with his temper. I promised him that if he ever fights in my class, the cops will haul his ass to jail, and I'll never see him again. He actually apologized. Of course, he lost it when the other guy called him a buster because he is stressed out due to problems at home. We were having such a great time together, all 31 of us -- black, white, Hispanic, Asian, the Ukranian boy and the girl from West Africa with the French accent -- and then all of sudden, boom! Near disaster. Then disaster averted.

More importantly, last night I met a great guy. I wasn't even working the room. I was just chiling at the bar with my girlfriends, and then there he was with his Jack and Coke. When I commented that he is the same age Jesus was when he was crucified, he said, "That's so weird. I just told someone the same thing." Although we disagree about public vs. private schooling, we agree about church. He dances like me, and he's funny. He also throws around words like "nebulous." He has a fabulous voice and used to be a late night 96rock dj. Good shoes. 6'1".

Despite two bad experiences with Oglethorpe girls, he's taking me out tonight on a real date. I'm excited about it.

I hate it when people say, "you'll meet someone when you least expect it" or "you've got to stop looking if you want to find a man." Maybe they are right after all.


country come to town

Well, I must admit that Toby Keith brings out the redneck in me. And there is a redneck within, not so deeply hidden. My fabulous friend Robert gave me tickets to see and hear Big Throwdown Tour II -- and I wasn't so sure this was the concert for me.

Was I wrong -- I loved it! First, Lee Ann Womack played my theme song, "I might hate myself tomorrow, but I'm going to love you tonight."

Then, Toby Keith, who burst onto the stage in a large white truck, sang my other theme song, "I'm not talking 'bout locking up forever, baby. That would be too demanding. I'm just talking 'bout two lonely people who might need a little understanding. I'm not talking 'bout knocking out heaven with whether we're wrong or we're right. I'm not talkin' 'bout hookin' up or hangin' out -- I'm just talking 'bout tonight!" Plus, "She's my little whiskey girl" and my favorite, "I should have been a cowboy! I should have learned to rope and ride! I'd be firin' my six shooter, ridin' my pony on a cattle drive-iive. Stealin' the young girls' hearts, yeah, just like Gene and Roy. Singin' those camp-fire songs! Oh, I shoulda been a cowboy!"

And then, of course, the classic -- "I like talkin' about you-you-you-you-usually, but ocassionally, I wanna talk about me! Me! ME! I wanna talk about Me-e-E!" What a blast.

Thanks, Robert. I can't even begin to describe the people attracted by this kind of event.


Adventures on the Redneck Rivera

Despite my devastation that Miracle Strip Amusement Park closed forever last November so that we couldn't ride the Abominable Snowman or Dante's Inferno or the Musical Express, pleasures I greatly anticipated for quite some time, we did manage to have a damn good time.

Not only did I have fun, I had a man who's killed multiple people. No, he's not a murderer! He's a marine. Small but very muscular guy from Ohio, 41 years old, stationed in Iraq for seven months. He almost convinced me that Bush isn't the devil -- but then, a soldier would have to believe that they are doing the right thing for sanity's sake.

First stop: Wal-mart. How appropriate! Viv grilled hamburgers for us at our lovely townhouse next to Show-n-Tail. Drank daiquiris on the deck of a liquor store overlooking the strip where we yelled at folks passing by who honked at us and yelled back. Fabulous day at the beach on Friday. Read Chloe Does Yale, also appropriate. Ate at Sharky's, Pineapple Willy's, and of course, the Treasure Ship where we wore paper pirate hats and colored pictures of a pirate and his ship while we ate. Flirted with the balloon artist.

Rain on Saturday sent us to see Wedding Crashers! Hilarious. We also shopped at Alvin's Magic Mountain where you can have your picture taken with a small live alligator in your lap. Discovered the "Willy Warmer" at Condom Knowledge and almost bought a mullet wig. I haven't laughed that much in a long time.

Most importantly, we partied all night at Spinnaker's on Friday and Saturday. Jenn almost hooked up with the singer of the cover band who played all of my favorite songs: American Girl, Laid, various Coldplay. I bought a Bud for a precious young guy from Albany who said to me, speaking of his girlfriend, "I just love her, man." Jenn and I danced with a crazy guy whose best moves are "the football" and "gallop like a pony." Fireworks. Escape from Atlanta. Mindlessness and good times.


Strange Girl Shouts Absurd Headlines!

Three-day Old Chinese Food Tastes Bad!

Neon-Colored Urine Result of Vitamin Tablet!

Beach Pedicure Tonight at 6:00!

Solitare Provides Excellent Source of Procrastination!

Colins Says Recent Weather Is "Africa Hot!"

Emory Library Denies Access to GSU Student!

Bailey WonderDog Sleeps All Day!



Funny how I have so much to say tonight yet don't really feel much like talking to anyone. I'm sure I'll feel like talking to people again tomorrow, but right now, thank God for my blog.

Speaking of not wanting to talk, soft-hand Jew boy (does that sound like a racial slur because I only mean it as a description -- you know, someone could describe me as obnoxious short cracker girl and I'm ok with that) left a message on Saturday because I didn't want to answer, then called again and didn't leave a message. Out of curiosity I called him Sunday and left a message, and then he called back and I made the mistake of answering. He's started whining and complaining, and he saps my energy because he argues with everything I say and never gets to any kind of point, and we're not friends! So I cut him off mid-"I hate my job" and said I'd call him later.

A girl in my class tonight said it's bad karma for me not to call him back. If I call him back, I'm likely to say, "I really don't want to talk to you anymore because you make me tired, unless of course, you have decent movie passes this time." Isn't it better if I just don't call back?

Riding home on Marta listening to the various languages spoken all around me, I feel so inadequate because I only speak standard American and South Georgia English. I really want my child(ren) to be at least truly bilingual. I was excited about them learning Serbian, but then I thought about how much it might upset me if they said things behind my back in a language I don't understand. But now maybe we can learn a language together, or you know -- they're going to talk about me behind my back anyway. It might as well be in another language. And of course, I don't even have a boyfriend, so children might not be much of a possibility especially since I'm "already 30."

You shouldn't pick away scabs because they actually contain some kind of healing agent produced by your body, but don't you just want to get rid of them? I know they eventually come off when their job of healing and protecting is done, but they're ugly. And why can't I shave without cutting myself? What I really want to know is: if you smack a mosquito on your body and leave the guts there, is it a warning to the others that they should leave you alone? I hate mosquitos.