It’s Not the Size of the Boat but the Motion of the Ocean

YOU. Mind out of the gutter! Just read the darn post! – Lily

The bouncy, jazzy piano notes lead to the smooth strings. And then…there was Nat.

“Let there be you,
Let there be me.
Let there be oysters
Under the sea…”

Lenny grabbed my hand and took us to a place on the floor in the line of dance. We rolled our shoulders in our most perfect dance posture and I waited. Giving him equal resistance, he nudged me into the beginning of and elegant foxtrot.

I couldn’t help but smile. An entire year of dance classes and it all came together in one of my favorite songs. The rest of our dance classmates moved as well in our practiced patterns. I don’t know about them, but I felt like Lenny and I were gliding! A few fellow dancers nodded and whispered that we looked good while moving. And when we completed a twisting grapevine down the center of the floor without landing on our asses – I finally caught a glimpse of us in the dance studio’s mirror. One thought ran through my mind as my pink skirt swirled at my knees.

Hey, I dance pretty good for a fat girl.

Now before you close down the webpage, let me quote comedian Ron White and say, “I tell you that story so that I can tell you this one…”

Months and months ago, my picture at board at work had numerous pics of me and some of the fun experiences I’ve had. A shot of me, Lenny, and the siblings shooting a raging rapid. Spinning like a maniac in the teacups at Disneyland. Black and white aerial shots I took from the top of a huge Ferris wheel at the State Fair. Someone took a look at it one day and said, “Lily, you know what I like about you?”

I swung around in my chair and waited for the answer. She then said, “I like that you don’t let your size stop you from doing things.” Realizing how much of a back handed compliment that was – she quickly back tracked. But I brushed it aside; I knew exactly what she was getting at.

No secret – I’m a big girl for five feet tall. I wear between sizes 18-24. I sometimes get winded during warm-ups. I hate walking uphill. I struggle with the airline lap belt. And yes, even the always positive Lily, feels a little insecure about her waistline.

You hear it all the time about size and success. “They tell you it’s not the size of the dog, but the fight.” As cheesy as they may sound – I guess they can be true. I never really thought about my weight as impediment, so when I broke free of the self-esteem issues, my lust for life just took over! I figure if I can do it I SHOULD do it! I guess somewhere in my life I decided to strip down the excuses for certain things and just go for it! There’s a big world out there and I don’t want to miss any of it!

I wonder what it would be like if we just forgot the word “can’t” and just did things. Never mind questioning what could go wrong or what sacrifices need to me made. And for a moment, forget that I’m taking about physical size, ethnic background, or economic situations that might hold you back. What mental games to you play to convince yourself you shouldn’t do something?

I’m too heavy. Fat people look funny doing that.

Everyone will think I’m dumb.

I have “other responsibilities” that I must attend to.

It saddens me when people waste opportunities. As long as you have a working brain, you should go out there and do what you want to do. Physically – I should not be attracted to much movement. I’ve said it and sabotaged myself in my younger days. I’ve been told that I will fail if I try it to my face in the past. Conventional wisdom says round girls like me shouldn’t be having this much fun.

But there I am – hurtling head first down slides. Getting dressed up and partying harder than those skinny chicks. Insisting we go on the rollercoaster for the third time. Driving off to Vegas on a quick road trip. Planning all girl weekends and clubbing birthday parties. Wondering if I’m up to hiking in Sedona or the Grand Canyon. Dancing ballroom for hours on end. And so many other things!

I’m a big girl…I got a lot of living to do!

BrownSuga’s sweet spot: Getting to Know Me Part II

Sorry about last week folks, by the time I got home I completely forgot about uploading my new blog so this week I'm going to post two blogs to make up for last week. So enjoy!

A couple of weeks ago I told you all about a few things that tick me off, well this week on a lighter note I’ll let you all know about a few things I love. All in all I’m a happy person. I love to smile. As a lot of people say I am my mother’s daughter. So here are things that will always put smiles on my face.

1. Family – I love my family. I have 3 brothers and a sister, loving parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and a husband. I am blessed beyond words. But it isn’t just my family that makes me happy. I love seeing any family; new families, large families, small families. Tolstoy said “Happy families are all alike…” I think it’s the show of love that connects all happy families and seeing that makes me happy.

2. Traveling & Different Cultures – I watch only ONE reality show, The Amazing Race. The only reason I like it is because the contestants get to travel all over the world doing crazy stunts or figuring out puzzles my favorite things. People always ask what to do want to do when you grow up or what your dream job is. My answer is always to travel around the world learning new languages and all about new cultures. This is why I need to be rich.

3. Food – if you’ve ever had a meal with me you would laugh by this because I have a VERY small appetite. What I love is to be around food; buy it, cook it, serve it, sell it. Seafood is my favorite with French fries and Buffalo wings a close second. Garlic and onions can make ANY dish better.

4. Music – I grew up with music. For those who know me (and my real name) you’ll know that I am named after a jazz album and the third song on the record. Every Saturday morning while growing up my parents would turn up the record player with all their favorite oldies and we would clean the house. My Ipod is an eclectic array of music from Carole King to Jay-Z, Chicago to Faith Hill, Earth Wind and Fire to 3T, Whitney Houston to Jennifer Holiday with Mary J to Steely Dan and of course some classic Aerosmith, Elton John and rounding it out with Alicia Keyes and the sultry voice of John Legend. And I even keep my comedy (Stephen Lynch’s Vanilla Ice Cream) on there. I love listening to music. Everything that happens in my life I connect with a song. And when my siblings and I get together you can’t shut us up. Oh and by the way I have a weakness for 80s theme songs (Who’s the Boss, Growing Pains, Just the Ten of Us…), soundtracks and my favorite SHOWTUNES…I broke my ankle once trying to imitate A Chorus Line (did I mention I have NO balance whatsoever).

5. Books – my interest in books isn’t as extensive as my interest in food. I love to read, don’t get me wrong, but I’m a bit more close-minded when it comes to what I read. See with music I can sing or dance to anything with a beat but books are different. I devote a chunk of time to read a book and I really hate to be disappointed. Today I finished the current book for my book club, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green My goal for this year (and next year) to read all the classics I’ve wanted to read but haven’t. So if there are any good books that you know of and you want me to read them just tell me. My local Border’s is like a second home. by Joshua Braff and boy, am I ready to discuss this one.

And my absolute favorite thing is….(not sex)…..TALKING.

I have been talking since I was 6 months and my mom said I haven’t shut up yet. I can talk about ANYTHING and I have an opinion about EVERYTHING. From the moment I began talking my older brother almost stopped completely, because not only did he have a shadow in me but he also had a spokesperson. I’m the person at the party who knows no one when they show up but by the time they leave they’ve made plans with at least half the people for later on that week. This is probably the main reason I enjoy moving around and traveling. I know that wherever I go if I want to meet and talk to people I’ll do it.

So there you go…a few things about me…I also love snakes, heights, being in the water and shocking people.

BrownSuga's sweet spot: Enough is enough

The idea for this blog came to me around December of last year. At the time Dreamgirls, the movie, was about to be released and the United States had just voted in a Democratic Congress (both the House of Representatives and the Senate). Being a child of the 80’s, I grew up singing “And I’m telling you”, first sung by Jennifer Holliday and now made famous again by American Idol contestant, Jennifer Hudson.

“And I am telling you
I'm not going.
You're the best man I'll ever know.
There's no way I can ever go,
No, no, no, no way,
No, no, no, no way I'm livin' without you.
I'm not livin' without you.
I don't want to be free.
I'm stayin',
I'm stayin',
And you, and you, you're gonna love me.
Ooh, you're gonna love me.”

Every time I heard the song, whether in it’s original recording or the new version, I would picture George W. Bush singing it to the American public in lieu of his State of the Union Address. It’s been said by many that Bush will believe in achieving success in Iraq even if his only supporters are Cheney and his dog. With his approval rating dropping to very low numbers and the number of casualties and injuries rising tremendously, I have to wonder when will he ask himself when will enough be enough him?

In another situation, on a message board I frequent, there were a few women who after getting married and moving to a new town, found they were having trouble finding friends. I could understand their frustration but I’ve never really had an issue with making friends so I didn’t respond to them with any advice. However, many other women did and a response that stuck in my mind was “…maybe the women around you have enough friends and don’t want anymore so don’t try so hard. I know I have enough girlfriends and don’t look to make more.” And the very same week a woman called into a radio show asking for advice about a situation at work. Apparently a new co-worker wants to be an “outside of work” friend. The woman is fine with having lunch together and talking at work but that’s it. She also said she has enough friends and really didn’t want or need anymore.

So I wonder again, when do you say enough is enough, I don’t need anymore friends?

I’ve heard many stories from women mostly, who tell story after story about abusive husbands, verbally, mentally, and physically. Yet they can’t leave or go get help. They continue to defend and believe that he will change if they just stick it out. What has to happen for them to say enough is enough?

As I write this, several months after the original thought, I’ve come to a situation where I have to ask myself is it time to say enough is enough.

Most people in this world face a situation at least once in life where they question is it time for me to say enough is enough. And having to make this decision, I don’t know what my answer should be. For me I want to believe I can keep going. I want to believe if I just stick with it for a little bit longer my breakthrough will happen and all will be well. Like Bush, I want to believe ‘success’ is achievable before failure. Like those abused women, I hope that something will change for the better. But unlike Bush and the abused women, I don’t want to fight a losing battle. I want to have personal power to be like the women who have enough friends and say I don’t need or want anymore friends.

Honestly, I’m always happy to gain more REAL friends. I’ve learned that true and dependable friends are hard to come by. So the idea that I’ll ever say I have enough friends is something that hasn’t ever crossed my mind. That isn’t what this blog is about.

MGF readers, in what situation do you say enough is enough?

Examples:

Sticking with a job you hate

Staying in a stagnate relationship

Being discriminated against

And is it just me or when you really listen to the words of the song “And I’m telling you I’m not going” it sounds like the woman is a stalker and she needs to get some help?

Four Quick Thrills from Lily

Hey there, Readers! Hope you’re coming off a good weekend!

As for yours truly – I actually had one of those weekends where I could relax! With that, I was able to catch up with my iTunes and other fun stuff. Thanks to this little respite…I have stuff to share! These are the things that made my weekend:

Return of the British Songbirds – I am often heard joking that my husband would leave me in a heart beat if his three favorite female singers were to throw themselves in their prime form. Well, the chance of Petula Clark, Lulu, or Dusty Springfield popping up in their shining 60’s glory is pretty slim to none. (Especially since Dusty is dead.) However, there’s a new crop of chanteuses whose music is floating over from the British Isle that might excite him. The last six months have showed us that the British may be invading our airwaves again. It all started last summer with the emergence of Corinne Bailey Rae and her bright ditty, “Put Your Records On.” Then came Lily Allen’s funky reggae infused “Smile,” only to be rounded out with the gritty and ballsy release from Amy Wineman entitled “You Know I’m No Good.” Want to know what the fuss is about? Get your hands on their CDs today!

KISS Gene’s “Jewels” – You know, “The Osbournes” were funny. For about the first season. Then it just became a running joke that you can’t understand Ozzy, Sharon squeals and screeches, and the two kids were bratty ingrates who were happy to live off their parents. With that in mind – I was a bit leery about A&E’s reality show “Gene Simmon’s Family Jewels.” Did I really want to see ANOTHER dysfunctional rock family so full of their own hype? No thank you. Especially the egomaniacal Gene Simmons, long-time girlfriend Shannon Tweed, and his offspring! So I avoided it for the first season. But thanks to a lazy Saturday morning, I kicked myself for turning it away! Surprisingly, “Family Jewels” is very entertaining and far more real than anything I’ve ever seen in the genre. I expected Simmons to spend half the show in his demon costume and white kabuki make-up, Shannon to be haggard to death, and his children (Nick and Sophia) to be spoiled rotten. But in fact – Gene is a workaholic, Shannon is a good mom, while 18-year old Nick and 15-year old Sophia are two of the most grounded kids in L.A. I’ve seen. More importantly, the Tweed-Simmons home deals with some real problems. Check out the repeat episode where the family has a mini-intervention vacation for business crazy Gene! The new season has kicked off on A&E. Check it out on Sundays!

Is a Like Borat, But More Like Smart and Funny – During the Christmas holidays, I watched a quirky little movie on HBO called “Everything is Illuminated.” During the course of the movie, my sister-in-law and her husband raved about the book. Before driving back up from Tucson, I made Lenny stop by Borders and I picked up the novel by Jonathan Safran Foer. The story about a young American man searching for the truth about a photograph from his grandfather is by far the best thing I’ve read in the last year. The story is told from many viewpoints, but the best is when our hero, Jonathan, corresponds with his translator-turned-friend, Alex, regarding the details of their trip through the Ukraine in search of family history. The quirk is the way part of the book is written. Alex’s missives to Jonathan are the highlight of it all. Let’s just say that English is definitely Alex’s second language. Mixed with humor, heartfelt emotion, and history – Everything is Illuminated is definitely a read (or DVD) you must pick up!

There We Go…Back from the Early 90’s – I love soundtracks! I guess since I think of my life as a movie, it makes sense. Anyway…after some Amazon.com drama…the soundtrack I order two weeks ago finally came. “So I Married an Axe Murderer” probably wasn’t Mike Meyer’s most memorable movie. But hey – everyone is allowed a few dingers in their career. While the movie was only so-so, the soundtrack was chuck full of some of my favorite 90’s Alt-Rock songs. Listen to Toad the Wet Sprocket before they landed in the one hit wonder bin! Check out the covers to “Saturday Night” and “There She Goes” while rocking out to the timeless Spin Doctors anthem “Two Princes.” Pop in this gem of a soundtrack if you want to relive those early teen years where everything was funny and dressing like a degenerate meant you were cool.

This Too Can Be Yours for the Low Low Price of Your Integrity

The last couple of days have been very eye opening for me as a citizen of the world. Personal decisions and fallout from past decisions made by people close around me have had me doing some personal inventory. New definitions have popped up and new, important life lessons have been learned.

But most of all – I’ve been thinking about the cost of being yourself and doing what’s right. Even if we try to do the right things, good people still get shafted.

Everything in this world has a cost. And I’m not talking about consumerism (although the fact that I’m addicted to a $4 Starbucks drink that is essentially coffee and milk astounds me). I believe that every action we do, from the big grand gestures to the tiniest of niceties, will end up with us paying for it in the end. And most of that cost comes at the price of your integrity.

I’ve come to think of it like this: Integrity is like an allowance.

You guys remember allowance right? Your integrity (allowance) is given to you in your own personal set of morals, principles, and ethics (bills and coins that make up your allowance). When you come across life decisions – work, home, or personal happiness (candy, toys, and other stuff you want to buy) – you pay out some of your allowance to get what you want.

Unfortunately, what we don’t realize is that when you pay out a little of your integrity, compromised or not, somewhere along the line it’s going to cost you. But no one ever remembers that part! It’s like you’re in this spending spree of wanting to “be true to myself” or “do what’s right for the whole” or “stick to my guns” yet we forget that WE EVENTUALLYRUN OUT OF ALLOWANCE! So, while you’re blowing your allowance on that awesomely cool yo-yo and comic books you saw at the store on Monday, you’re not thinking about the fact you don’t have lunch money for the rest of the week.

If you are human with a shred of decency, your integrity is important to you. And while we’re foaming at the mouth to defend it – do you ever think about the consequences of your actions? What does saving (or spending) your allowance do to you in the end? I’m not saying I’m for compromising your integrity. Nor am I saying that you should stick to your guns in every single situation.

What I am saying is that whatever you decide to do – know that there might be a downside to it all.

We make our choices and we have to live with them. I would love to be able to say that nothing bad ever happens to good people, but I’d be lying. People who don’t bend their integrity are admirable. When there comes a point in my life where I have to decide between my integrity and bending my rules – I almost always choose my integrity.

Hold fast to your integrity however you want. Just be aware: If you are the “honest friend” who wields opinions like a blunt instrument, don’t be surprised when your friends don’t want to talk about sensitive issues with you. If you always show a stiff upper lip at being slighted for recognition – don’t be pissed when they pass you over and never talk about you! If you insist on going against the grain politically – don’t look shocked when the carpet of power gets yanked out from under you.

So when you’re out there, living your life and choosing your options – just be aware of the possible consequences. You’ve got to decide if the decisions you make are worth the outcome.

If you splurge and spend your entire allowance on X-Ray Sunglasses, beware that they might not work out.

MGF Interactive: Things to Do Before I Die

Has anyone seen that Kohler Water Fixture commercial? You know the one I’m talking about, right?

This is the one where the old Italian lady is on her deathbed and explaining to her family that they must not mourn for her. She’s lived a full life and is listing her many experiences to the daughter sitting at her bedside. And by all accounts (and translations), she had some fun! But then she turns to the window of her room and she sees this young woman about to slip into this GORGEOUS bathtub. The old lady pauses. Then she wrinkles her brow and then exclaims, “DAMN!” Her face at that moment is so full of regret for never having experienced that bathtub. She then takes her last breath and collapses onto her bed.

Now, I’m not too sure I’d be pissed about dying before getting to bathe in that bathtub. But the look on her face is something I probably could relate to. As a lover of life (and acceptor of death), I don’t want to miss out on experiences that can enrich my life. And there are certain things in life that I want to do before I’m an old woman in bed telling my family not to cry.

Yeah – I have a “To Do Before I Die” list. But honestly, WHO DOESN’T?! And even more blunt: EVERYONE should have a list drawn up. The best part about this list is that it’s constantly changing. If you were to take a list I wrote when I was a teenager and compared it to the one I wrote when I was 25, they’d be completely different lists!

And that’s a good sign! It means I’ve accomplished a lot about what I set out to do in life. And it means there’s so much more that I haven’t! These things don’t always have to be about getting famous or rich – they can be little things too!

So with this in mind, I thought I’d share my current list with you all:

Drive/Ride a Formula-1 race car at Le Mans – Forget the Ferraris, the BMWs, Mercedes, and even (BIG SIGH) the Aston Martin. I want to ride in something that was built purely for speed and performance! Now, I realize at 5 foot nuffin’, handling all that horsepower is like a butterfly trying to fly against a 75 MPH wind. So – if I can’t drive it – I’ll be happy to turn to my driver at the famed Le Mans race track and say, “Twice around please…and make it snappy!”

Design and make a wardrobe for an entire work week – During my long confinements – I mean summer vacations – at home, I pretty much was on my own for entertainment. So a few of those weeks, I was really into digging through my Grandmother’s scrap cloth bag and made the most FABULOUS strapless dresses and skirts for my Barbie doll using a few pins and some velcro! My love affair with clothing is still going strong today – with me being my own personal Barbie. But I’ve always had this urge to create my own clothing. I figure an entire week’s worth of outfits would be enough to fill the hole. I guess I should figure out how to sew first, huh?

Write a Screen Play – This works on so many creative levels for me! When I think about stories and writing – I always say I think like it’s a movie! So why not write one? Besides, if Ben Affleck and Matt Damon can win an Oscar for their screenplay, a schmuck like me can write one.

Raft down a Class 5 rapid - Five years ago, Lenny and I purposely got in a raft with my family and shot the Kings River Class 3 rapid. THAT WAS BETTER THAN ANY ROLLERCOASTER EVER! I seriously want to do it again. The next step would be cool – but I want a Class 5. When you have to put on a wetsuit and don a helmet just to get down a river…that’s some SERIOUS thrill riding there!!

Address a body of government (state or national) – It’s an ego thing here, pure and simple. I’ve been in front of people since I was a kid. The Family Ham wants to grow up and say something important. I have something to say – and I want to make a difference in someone’s life.

Act in a play – Back to the Family Ham thing…I was made for the stage. I’m ALLLLL about playing drama! My high school drama class gave me only a sliver of the thrill I think acting on stage is. Seriously though, I don’t care if it’s just community theatre at this point. My inner actress is ready for her soliloquy.

Memorize and play “Aragonaise” by Jules Massenet on the piano again – I spent four months learning and memorizing the 5-page version of Jules Massenet’s most memorable piece of music for a summer piano competition. I was 16 and had been playing piano for 10-years and loved it! For me, “Aragonaise” was that PERFECT piano piece. The sound was huge, the technique had to be fearless, and the finger work had to be DEAD ON. I wasn’t ready for that piece at 16; and sadly, it’s been 11-years since I’ve played regularly on a piano. But whenever I get home to San Diego – I always sit down and try my hand at recapturing the magic. I long to do it again – but this time with the perfection it deserves.

Live abroad for at least half a year – If work provided me an opportunity, or if Lenny were given a chance to teach abroad…I’d take it in a heart beat! I’ve lived in the U.S. all my life and through travel, I’ve experienced different cultures and ways of thinking. But the thought of immersing myself into something truly different and out of my comfort zone would be an experience beyond experience!

Be interviewed by someone famous/Interview someone famous – My theory about fame is this: ANYONE can have their 15-minutes of fame. But you would have had to do something really worthwhile to land on Oprah or Tyra’s talk show couch! You must have done something big to have Barbra Walters sitting across from you asking questions and trying to make you cry. If I only get 15-minutes…I want to make it count! But if that’s not in the cards – I would kill for the opportunity to interview a celebrity, world leader, or a normal person with a huge story to tell. Everyone makes their mark in this world, it doesn’t matter which side of the microphone you’re on.

Dance the tango – Thankfully, this one might be coming off the list soon! Remember that movie “Scent of a Woman?” A blind Al Pacino suavely and successfully navigates the floor with the pretty Gabrielle Anwar while the band strikes up the tango. At the end, Anwar’s boyfriend comes up and says, “You finally found someone to tango with you!” OMG – I so want that! The tango is like any other dance in the world! It’s strong, it’s soft, it’s sensual, and it’s passionate! I hear a tango beat and all I want to do is fly across the floor! Maybe Lenny and I will finally get our chance in our upcoming dance class!

What about YOU, MGF Faithful? What’s on your list of things to do? Tell us what wish causes family and friends to tell you that you are crazy! Tell us what you would most regret NOT doing before you take the Big Sleep.

SEND IT IN!!! Let’s share in the goal setting! Submit your To Do List to moderngirlfriday@yahoo.com. In the subject line, put “Things to Do Before I Die.” I’ll post the best lists up next week!

Reversal of Fortune

From the American Heritage Dictionary:

snob n.
1. One who tends to patronize, rebuff, or ignore people regarded as social inferiors and imitate, admire, or seek association with people regarded as social superiors.
2. One who affects an offensive air of self-satisfied superiority in matters of taste or intellect.

There was a time and day when I used to think that “inferior” meant poor people and “superiority” meant rich people in this definition.

When you think about snobs, you think of the Howell’s at the exclusive country club who named their kids Muffy and Chip. Only Grey Poupon graced their sandwiches. The only foreigners they knew were the help. They drive their expensive cars, pay for their dogs to be pampered at puppy spas, and vacation outside of the U.S. They were the privileged and hand fed. And us “regular folks” simply shook our heads and wondered what it would be like on the other side of the fence as we worked through our lives.

But lately, I’ve been noticing something different about class warfare that is a very disturbing trend. As I’ve gotten older, I find myself with friends from a wide variety of socio-economic backgrounds. Being an outgoing and inquisitive person, I strike up conversations when I feel like it, social status be damned! What I’ve learned is that the rich are just like regular people.

Those we call “rich people” are just like us. Surprisingly, they put on their jeans one leg at a time, just like us regular folk. The only difference is that they paid about 20-times more than they really should have for theirs. There are no longer any huge surprises about people we would consider our “betters.”

However, things seem to be all sorts of weird on the other end of the spectrum. I think it’s safe to say that most of us have had a life where we worked very hard to get where we are today. Day in and day out, we work to better ourselves and carve out a good life. While we can’t all be Rockefellers, we’re proud of our humble beginnings.

Some of us though – are a bit too proud. Proud to the point that we wear being “poor” like a badge of honor. It’s now the fabled proletariat looking down our noses at the mythical bourgeois.

In this weird sort of way, lower and middle class people have embraced this stance that if you’re rich, you suck. Instead of looking at the person – we look at the social status. To these people, the only ones worth knowing or talking to are the poor or people who come from poor backgrounds. Rich people are to be tolerated…but you must always side with the poor. They have drawn a line in the sand and they want nothing to do with Richie Rich and Mrs. Thirsten Howell III.

But by doing this – they’ve created this new breed of snobbery that is just as ridiculous as the old version. And worse off, they cut themselves off from truly experiencing life!

A few months back, my friend Sunny and I were talking with another friend. Sunny and I share a lot of the same interests and have the same kind of upbringing. Our friendship is at the point where we finish each other’s sentences. I mentioned to our third friend that its scary how much alike Sunny and I are. The friend looked at me and said firmly, “You are nothing alike!” We both begged to differ. “You might share the same characteristics, but you’re not the same.” When pressed to explain her answer, she rattled off, “You’re spoiled! Sunny is not.” Again I protested. “You don’t understand – you’ve never been poor. Sunny and I have.” Then there was this look on her face.

The look that said I’m better than you because I’ve struggled.

SPOILED? I don’t understand being poor? My life wasn’t stricken by poverty, but we never wanted for anything. But by no means was my family ever rich. My parents are immigrants. They brought over the rest of my family. My grandparents survived the Japanese occupation in WWII. At one point in my life, we lived in a three bedroom, one story house with nine people in it! I slept on the floor until I was 14-years old. From the time I was 11-years old, I cooked, cleaned, and did laundry for up to eight people. I moved to another state to take a break! Only now is my family more financially flexible. But that’s because most of us have moved out of the house.

When next I had discussed this with Sunny – I asked her, “Am I spoiled because I don’t do the normal things that ‘poor’ people do?” My friends call me a Foodie – eating all sorts of food they consider “weird.” I like to shop and am willing to spend for it. I read books rather than watch TV. I have (and use) a large vocabulary. I want to travel to cosmopolitan and urban areas. As we discussed further, we came to the conclusion that our mutual friend categorized me as a snob because I am very vocal about enjoying what society considers a “cultured” lifestyle.

And by cultured, they mean “rich people.”

When I came to this realization, I was devastated. I’ve worked hard all my life – nothing has EVER been given to me. But someone had disdain for me because I chose to seek adventures outside of my supposedly designated rung on the social ladder. Despite trying to be a good person and friend, the way I spend my money and time caused someone to reach out and slap me!

What kind of messed up society do we live in where we STILL defined ourselves by our social status? And where do people like this get off on judging me? Don’t fool yourselves – snobbery by the poor is still snobbery. It’s still hate and hate is always an awful emotion to have.

You want to be proud of your humble beginnings, fine. Be proud of it! You’ve come a long way and you should fly your flag. But don’t use it to measure the worth of other people! You hate having it done to you…so why would you think it’s cool to do it the other way around? Stop hating – the rich don’t just automatically become rich. All of them have a story of how hard work and risk brought them to where they are. So in a sense, they understand just as well as you do what it’s like to struggle.

It’s not like you put your pants on two legs at a time, you know?

Lily’s Conversational No-No’s

“Lily…what gives?” you ask. Didn’t I have a Part II to my Super Sweet Sixteen’s 16th? Well…I started it and had every intention of ending it. However, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Even in jest, I can’t be as dumb as I want to be! *sighs* Stupid self integrity! Plus – I got the distinct feeling (despite repeated lines about that being a “farce”) that people were taking it too seriously. So why torture ourselves? LOL…I’m sure you’re eager to move on, right?

For better or worse, Lillian White is a talker.

While most people would rather sit in the corner of a room during a party, I roved from group to group or hold court with my cousins and friends just chatting away. I believe you meet the most interesting people while standing in long lines. Lenny often gently chastises me when I try to fill up gaps in conversation. “Lily…its okay NOT to talk for a little bit.” My youngest sister once questioned why interaction was so easy for me after I wrapped up a 20-minute conversation on a book with the coffee barista at a Starbucks in a town where neither of us had been.

Can’t help it! I love the interaction! To me – talking is like a mystery/suspense novel. The plot thickens and you learn more as you get deeper into the conversation. By the time you get to the end of it – you’re totally surprised by how it turned out!

While I do enjoy conversing, there are some things I WILL NOT get into! Over the years I’ve just developed this etiquette where I force myself to keep my mouth shut and/or walk away. Very difficult for me to do, but these topics cause nothing but trouble! Countless times they’ve started conversation and more often than not, it ends of in a screaming match.

But some people just don’t get it! I have friends who keep trying to bring up what I consider “forbidden” topics – and they wonder why everyone gets mad or agitated.

So in the interest of public service…and in BrownSuga’s vein of learning more about us…I’m listing off what you need steer clear of when talking with me:

Politics – As far as I’m concerned, this is a GOLDEN RULE. Nothing good ever came from a discussion of politics. Especially in this day in age, we are far too polarized to have open discussion. And more often than not, the conversation’s tone becomes “Us vs. Them.” I’m not a big fan of the topic simply because people insist on things being black and white with little or no gray. And we’re so set in our ways, that when people talk politics, “listening” actually goes out the door! It doesn’t matter who you are: An ultra-Republican, an ultra-Democrat, an ultra-Independent. Your politics are not mine, so don’t try to convince me otherwise. That’s why we all get to vote!

Comparing Spouses/Significant Others – There is nothing wrong with comparing notes on your guys (or gals). But when you start trying to compare my apple to your orange, we’ve got problems. Why is this topic verboten? Simple: When you come to me trying to compare your current love, you’re either looking for a pissing match or trying to dig up stuff on me and the hubby. And trust me – you don’t want that! Lenny and I made a pact a long time ago to not disclose our relationship details to anyone but our most trusted friends. Listening to someone else’s love life is like walking in on your parents. You just don’t want that image seared into your head. I prefer that my mental picture of you to be CLOTHED!

Religion – Ohhh…another one of the non-negotiable rules in my conversational etiquette. Like politics, religion has a way of making people think in black and white terms. Wars have started due to religious conflict – so what makes you think you can have a calm conversation about whose deity is the greatest? Everyone wants to compare, contrast, and pump up their religion. I just believe that getting into a “My god can beat up your god” argument is futile and a waste of time. Like most religions tell you: MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR!

Cynicism – I have this friend that I often refer to as “Eeyore.” Every single time we get together, Eeyore ALWAYS looks on the dark side of things! I can’t remember the last positive thing that came out of this person’s mouth. Cynics are miserable people! To these people, the world is going to hell in a hand basket and there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s always someone else’s fault. And everything is a conspiracy. But there’s never a solution. This attitude just gets so old real fast. If you have a cloud of doom following you – don’t bring it near me!

So what about you, MGF Faithful? What are you conversation killers?

BrownSuga's sweet spot: And on a tangent...

I know this week I’m supposed to tell you all about the things I love but as I was writing that blog, I realized that I have this question.

So what will Valerie Plame do now?

If you haven’t heard, Scooter Libby was found guilty of lying to a federal agent blah blah blah. The original story was to find out who outted CIA operative Valerie Plame. Her husband Joe Wilson is a critic of the Bush administration (who isn’t these days?) and when the administration was collecting information to [wrongly?] justify invading Iraq, he was calling their bluff. Allegedly, in order to discredit Mr. Wilson, the administration decided to ‘leak’ his wife’s name to the press, as a CIA operative. I suppose the idea was to start a fire on the other side of the yard so the small ant problem is ignored. Horrible analogy huh? Don’t ask me to explain anything this administration does. I’m at as much of a lost as the rest of you.

Anyway, the prosecutor, who everyone is praising for doing a great job, decides to go after Libby for lying to a federal grand jury and the FBI, instead of prosecuting the person or persons he thought leaked Ms. Plame’s name. I guess because he got a guilty verdict you could say he did a great job but if you watched the trial my 15 year old cousin could have gotten a guilty verdict with that case. The defense was so weak; it seemed as if they were paid not to defend him.

This whole sordid mess has left two people screwed, Valerie Plame and Scooter Libby. Valerie has no job. My mother argued that she could still work for the CIA but my argument is, what if being an undercover agent was her passion? Why should she be punished for someone else being a whiny tattle telling child? And Scooter Libby might have been Cheney’s chief of staff but like most people in this world he has a boss and decisions like choosing to out a CIA operative probably wasn’t his idea. Many people think he was the fall guy for Cheney, Rove and Bush. Regardless of if he was or not, he’s also out of a job AND he’s a convicted felon. Sucks to be him right now. Everyone, including the jurors from his trial, believes he will and should be pardoned by Bush, but really will that matter? What’s he going to do now?

I just read that Ms. Plame or Mrs. Wilson now that her career as an operative is over will be moving to New Mexico with her husband and 7 year-old twins, but after 20 years with the CIA she’s sad to be leaving her profession. What will she do? Maybe drive the soccer carpool?

Ok so next week I'll be back with the things I love. Sorry for the tangent.

My Super Sweet Sixteen's 16th (Part I)

Okay – I have to come clean. I am addicted to watching MTV’s “reality” show My Super Sweet 16. I know, shocking! It’s nothing but spoiled little rich boys and girls who go around with this attitude of entitlement while they plan parties that are four and five times the cost of the average wedding. These little brats just work my last nerve by the end of the episode!

They’re shallow, melodramatic, disrespectful little sh*ts who live in an orgy of materialism. All they want to do is show off how much money they have – when in reality, it’s not their money. It’s their parent’s.

So why do I watch this insipid piece of trash? Because it’s so much fun to make fun of! I sit through these things for the one moment where the celebrant breaks down because they think their party is going into the crapper because they can’t get the right celebrity to perform at their party. It just makes me feel better knowing that if something that small is going to ruin their mood – they’re going to be in for a big wake-up call when they get into the real world. And the (lack of) parenting on the show proves my theory everyone needing a good spanking when they get out of hand.

But as I was watching reruns of the show this weekend, I couldn’t help but think to myself why should these kids have all the fun? At sixteen, you haven’t done anything. You haven’t been anywhere. You haven’t earned anything but the rights to breathe in the world you live in. I’m going to turn 32 next year. I worked my ass off since moving out of the house!

WHERE’S MY PARTY?!?! When do I get to abuse the help and rip off my parents? And since I’m married – the drama between Lenny and me alone could fuel a few seasons worth of shows! I would be far more entertaining than a high school sophomore!

So why shouldn’t I get my own? Wonder how it would go down? Yeah, so did I. So using everything that I’ve learned from My Super Sweet 16, I’ve laid out plans to celebrate my 32nd birthday next year. Lily’s Super Sweet Sixteen’s Sixteenth, so to speak.

The Theme: Okay, for my Super Sweet Sixteen’s 16th, I am going to go with an ultra posh Casino Royale with a hip hop edge to it. James Bond? I think not – more like Jigga’ Bond. I could cheap out and go to Las Vegas, but why be so typical? And I’m going to pass on having it at the actual Casino Royale in Monaco. Please – have some creativity. I’m going to have Lenny BUY the Casino Royale, break it down brick by brick and have it shipped HERE for my party! Take that you Four Seasons, movie theatre renting, pool party booking children!
Needless Drama #1: While negotiating this particular aspect of the party, Lenny is going to get into it with me about the “feasibility” of my suggestion. But I will counteract this by throwing myself on the ground and proceed to have a huge tantrum including some awesome screaming and kicking. Footage must include dialogue from me screaming in a shrill, banshee-like tone, “If you LOVED me, you’d find a way for it to work!”

The Guest List/Invitations: Get together with the girlfriends and start hammering out the guest list for the party. I’m only going to invite 800 hundred or so people, so I have to be very selective. Cut from the list is anyone who is prettier, skinnier, and people who refuse to kiss my ass. I have standards and WILL NOT be showed up at my party.
Needless Drama #2: My demand for the perfect guest list requires me to cut two of my posse – who just spent the last couple hours helping me put together the guest list. The results in a very vocal fight that ends with me cutting them off from my life. If they can’t understand how important this is for ME…then I don’t need them as friends. Also cut from the party are a number of family members, but they get back on the list at Lenny’s insistence. Luckily I’m in a giving mood.

The Party Details: This is going to be the party of the decade! No expense will be spared.
Needless Drama #3: Lenny complains when I find extra money for the party. “Geeze, Lenny…I’m only taking HALF of your 403(b) retirement fund!” Lenny barks back that he’s a set income. “Well, if you’d done something other than TEACHING, we’d have the money!”
Needless Drama #4: I blow a gasket when Lenny can’t confirm Martin Scorsese to film the party. I have to settle for Bryan Singer, only to get angry again when Singer has to drop out and I have to take Brett Ratner.
Needless Drama #5: Every one gets a little miffed when I announce to the family and Lenny about the plans for my outdoor grand entrance. My plan is to be carried in on a litter with a James Bond look-a-like at my side while Chris Cornell’s “You Know My Name” blares and pyrotechnics go off in the background. Lenny wants to know where he is when all of this happens. “Throwing rose petals in front, I imagine.” Lenny leaves in a huff. You call that supportive?
Great Example of a Totally Needless Expense #1: The giveaways for the party becomes a highlight. Each guest receives a goodie bag. For the Bond girls in attendance, each will get a specially designed Louis Vuitton wristlet (“Coach is so…domestic…”) with a lipstick (a shade specially made for my party, naturally), that doubles as USB drive (Bond chicks are ALWAYS prepared). For the Bond wannabes, the exact Omega watch he wears in Casino Royale. Once again, the killjoy known as Lenny wonders why we can’t just get replicas. “Or why do we even need them at all!” I look at him and calmly explain that it has to BE THE REAL THING OR PEOPLE WILL THINK I’M CHEAP! I then go screaming out the room and repeat my tantrum from earlier in the episode.

LOL…who knew writing farce could be fun! We’re not even halfway through this episode!

…stay tuned after this commercial break!

The Slippery Slope of Successes

The Mega Million’s jackpot caught just about everyone’s eye this week. Who wasn’t fascinated by the fact that there was a $390 MILLION dollar prize sitting out there? If people won, great! If they lost – the prize gets bigger! The drama of it all was what most television shows dream of. And by this morning, we knew that a Georgia Trucker by the name of Ed Nabors and a Yet-To-Be-Identified-Winner in New Jersey were each going to get over $116 million a piece before taxes. And what was my first reaction?

Wow…$116 million is a nice chunk of change. I don’t know if I’d want that kind of trouble.

Yeah, yeah. You all think I’ve lost it. Could I just walk away from a prize like that? Probably not. But, I would want to. Why? Because I am a believer in the notion that success pisses other people off and it can adversely affect someone’s life.

This is not to say that I don’t wish to have success. I just wish people would learn how to handle it. And this is both for those finding success and those who envy them. My fondest dream in this entire world is to be an accomplished writer. I would love for this blog to just get huge. I want to finish my novel, publish it, and have it blow up. I want it to be an Oprah’s Book Club selection! I want a New York Times Bestseller! I want to sell the movie rights! When I get all this, I can have anything I want.

But as I type away creating and editing, I can’t help but think there’s a flipside to it all. Weird family coming out of the wood work asking for things. Current family fighting over what I hope to provide. Fair-weather friends who just want to hang onto me. Being successful can be great…but there’s this whole other side to it!

Remember that Ben Stiller/Jack Black flick Envy? (Yes, it was a bad movie. No, I don’t want to explain why I was watching it) In it, Stiller and Black are best friends. Black comes up with a product idea and offers his best bud buy in for a mere $2000. Stiller’s character didn’t bite – but the product takes off and Black gets rich. Stiller soon starts to become jealous of his friends success, getting pissed at his friend’s generosity, and then actually tries to sabotage his life.

Think about your best friend, or your closest family member. Now imagine turning on them and getting angry with them because they have something that you don’t. It seems pretty petty and stupid, right? Unfortunately, it has become a big part of our societal culture today.

It’s easy to say that money is the problem. Don’t they say that money is the root of all evil? It can turn (and has turned) mother against son. It’s started wars. It’s crashed nations. But you know what? It’s not just material success that can change people. Even the fortunes or good luck of situations can mess with the relationships in your lives.

I have a friend at work. She, like me, was recognized with an Employee of the Year Award at our holiday party. She’s a lot like me – and I don’t think she’s gotten a big head or anything since winning it. It’s not like we got a raise or anything, LOL! Basically, we got a stone trophy for our desks that said “thank you” for all the hard work.

But recently she told me she would turn in the trophy if she could just get it back to the way it was. She feels that people treat her differently now. And it’s not those casual acquaintances you see around the halls at work – they are people she actually considers friends. They make jokes about being the pet of the department. Anytime she gets something done or garners another bit of praise, they say it must be because she’s an award winner. They (supposedly) jokingly equated the award to butt kissing. She took it in stride the first few weeks. But as they became more prevalent, it left a bad taste in her mouth. “The worse part is that I don’t think they even realize it,” she said. “Most of them think it’s still a joke.”

I feel bad for her. The first thing she wanted to do at the awards banquet was thank each of her teammates and her boss. When she got back to work the next week, she wrote her manager an e-mail thanking her for the opportunities that she was provided. But the most tragic thing to me is that she’s willing to throw away her achievements just so she can have acceptance from her peers.

Like many things in our world today – achievements have become a source of competition. And like all competition, there are winners and there are losers. The losers just seem to be less than gracious nowadays. They put down the winners because they want someone to feel as bad as they do. Think about how many baseball and football coaches are fired every year for not obtaining “success.” Think of the class nerd getting beat up by the class bully. Think of all the jokes we make about celebrities and how we thrive on their pitfalls.

Being too accomplished is akin to being an adulterer in Puritan times. If you’re not successful, you don’t want anyone else to be. People who are seemingly good at EVERYTHING they do are not considered a “talented person.” No, they’re spitefully labeled an “overachiever.” We hate what we can’t have, but we refuse to change the circumstances to fix it.

How messed up are we as humans if we’re willing to hate on people for EARNED success? Why can we no longer be happy for someone’s achievements? It’s better than the alternative, right?

I don’t know about you – but I never said I wanted to a slacker/failure when I grew up!

From the MGF Vault: Like a Bulldog…Only I Wear a Skirt

Hey MGF Faithful...my deepest apologies! Yours truly seems to be running around all the time and can't get my head straight, LOL. So tonight, I'm pulling out one of my favorites! Hopefully we'll get everything back together soon -- until then -- enjoy! - Lily

We lost. And we lost big time. Last Saturday a group of us stood outside the hockey rink bemoaning a 6 goal loss to the other team. There were about six of us waiting for our friends to come out. To pass the time, we deftly made fun of our own team’s lackluster play. Finally, our friend Dave came out. As a matter of friendly honesty, we all booed him. Taking the gesture as our twisted sign of affection, he laughed and waved.

The others immediately started in on him. We had been egging Dave on in the final period to just hit someone (despite the fact it is a no-check hockey league). We were joking…but we gave him crap for it anyway. Heckling is our favorite pastime and we don’t care if you’re friends with us or not. As one of us is always apt to say during the game, “We eat our own young.”

We stood around in a circle going over the game that had been played. One of the primary reasons we lost was because half the team didn’t show up. Dave remarked to us, “We were hanging in there the first period. Then the fatigue started to set in.” Absentmindedly, Dave’s hand went to his side and rubbed a sore spot.

The group murmured in agreement. A chuckling voice rose out of the hum and asked, “Hey, Dave…your hip hurt?”

“What?”

“Does your hip hurt?” Dave shook his head in askance of why. “Oh, I just figured it would be sore since you guys spent most of the game bent over taking it from behind.”

A groan erupted from the group. Everyone turned in the direction of the insult. By normal standards, it was a pretty weak punch. Being the only girl in the group willing to throw down earned me more leeway and definitely a respect other women would not. But it’s always been this way. I have always had an aggressive streak in me. When the guys draw a line, they dare me to cross it. It never fails. They start the cut down war…I always intend on finishing it.

Said one of my college friends about my no-holds barred attitude, “You’re like a bulldog…except you wear skirt.”

But that’s the charm of being the only female friend in a group of guys.

I’m used to being the only skirt in the crowd. When I was growing up, I always wanted to be better than the boys or at least keep up with them. Then from high school forward, I just realized that guys were a lot easier to get along with than the girls my age. I guess it’s true what Chris Rock said, “Women hate other women.” In my case, I just didn’t want to deal with the futile drama about who was crushing on who or what flavor lip gloss goes with what Esprit shirt (as you can tell, my shopping addiction is only a recent discovery). So an end result of this preference is that most of my closest friends have been guys.

A lot of female acquaintances wonder what a guy friend could offer that a girl friend couldn’t. Elusive Orchid shares my view on the guy friend phenomenon. “They don’t give a shit what you look like. They’ll share dirty jokes with you. They give you insight on both men and women. And they don’t have all the drama that comes along with being friends with a woman.”

Perhaps it’s easier because we don’t have to compete with guys (even if they are gay). Think about it ladies: You’re going with your friends on a Saturday night. As you get dressed your mind wanders. What are your friends going to wear? How is Sue going to her make-up? Then when you get to the bar or wherever you’re going, what happens? You’re all fishing in the same pool. You can’t tell me that the air of competition isn’t there and that you’ve never been hurt by the fact your best girl friend just made out with the hottie you were drooling over all night.

I find that guys are also completely uncomplicated and they have no censor. When you ask them a question, they pretty much give you a one sentence answer. And despite what popular television would have you believe, it often makes sense. Why? Guys don’t bother themselves with too many details. Which is probably why they’ll blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. When I have to answer one of my female friends, my mind automatically takes into consideration their feelings, their mood, and how I need to couch an answer so they don’t start crying on me. Gah! It’s just so much work!

Maybe I like having guy friends simply because I don’t have to try as hard to be myself around them. How many times have you bit your tongue when your female friends ask, “Do these jeans make me look fat?” Guys don’t care…they’ll still look at your ass! And that’s not really a bad thing if you think about it. At least someone’s noticing. When I’m with my guy friends, I don’t have to worry about being delicate or careful or even politically correct. You social inhibitions tend to disappear.

Whatever my deep seeded reasoning is, I still enjoy having guy friends. There’s just something about being the Shirley MacLaine in your little Rat Pack. Once guys accept you as one of them, all the confusing stuff about them disappears. They actually just become people to you.

I’m not saying that I despise having girl friends. It’s just hard to relate to them. Up until just very recently, I’ve never met any females that match up with my personality. The girl friends that I do have are similar to me. We don’t like drama, we don’t like pettiness, and we hate codependency. No matter what anyone tells you, friendship is an actual relationship. It takes work to cultivate it and there are people who are compatible and people who should just never be in the same room for five minutes alone.

While there isn’t a stigma in today’s society about having mainly males as your friends, it does often still get you looked at funny. But that’s okay. Friendship is all about who you’re comfortable hanging out with. I’m comfortable with their burping, their rude jokes, and their scratching. They’re perfectly comfortable with me when I’m not exactly all there, stressed out, or being a princess about things. That’s beauty of all friendships. Whether you’re male or female, there is an honesty that pervades your relationship. And that’s what makes the friendship worth it. In the end, it’s like Oscar Wilde said, “A true friend stabs you in the front.”

In your guy friend’s case…a true friend will burp in your face.

BrownSuga's Sweet Spot: Getting to know you….

<>Getting to know all about you…getting to like you, getting to hope you like me…

It dawned on me last week that besides my first post I haven’t just come out and told you about me. Yes you can see what I’m about based on what topics I choose to write about and what I say about those topics. But I wanted to take a couple of weeks and just say outright some things I loved and some things I didn't....

So this week here are five things I really abhor. Hate is such a strong word so I try not to use it. But in high school I learned “abhor” and my hatred for things changed.

1. Starbucks – Yes I know many of you have to have your daily fix of what I call liquid crack but I don’t care. And I’m always for the small business that makes it but enough is enough. I live in a town that has 1 mall, 2 movie theatres no public transportation to speak of and one main street where 90% of the restaurants are located. This crap town is completing it’s 10^th We went from no Starbucks to 10 in ONE YEAR. The world does not need that much coffee. And what really pushes my buttons is they have crappy hot chocolate, which is the only thing I’d go to a coffee shop to buy. Starbucks is as annoying as this nonstop media circus surrounding Anna Nicole Smith and her all pink funeral. Please give me a break. Starbucks in less than a year.

2. Wal-Mart – This same town I live in is overrun with Wal-Marts. After going home to Philly a couple of times and realizing that a city CAN function without a Super Wal-Mart within it’s limits, I’m of the mindset that all those towns that get together to ban the Waltons from imposing their business on them are okay with me. Wal-Mart is a necessary evil for some places. And for others it’s an eyesore. The traffic that surrounds the store disrupts everything. My new goal is to live in cities where Wal-Marts are not located. (I may have to move to Mars, but what the hell…)

3. Ignorance – Whoever said ignorance is bliss was stupid. I respect people’s opinions (really I do J ) but I cannot respect your ignorance. Common sense, logic and simple humanity could probably solve many problems but unfortunately some choose to be ignorant. After the Michael Richards debacle many said “He might not be racist”, and someone replied “What does a man have to do to be racist, kill Emmett Till?” Scooter Libby used the excuse of ignorance in this latest trial of the CIA leaks, see where it’s gotten him?

4. Criminals – I don’t abhor all people in the system, but those who use their past as an excuse. Mark Foley, when he was caught claimed he did what he did because he was abused as a child and he had a drinking problem. So is that a good enough reason for you to turn around and abuse another child, just because you had the same done to you? Turn about is fair play? Personally I have no sympathy for someone who went through any form of abuse, chose not to get help and then abused someone else. I truly wish children weren’t abused but if they were then they need help. They need to talk to a professional to learn that 1) it wasn’t their fault and 2) they don’t have to repeat the cycle. They can be bigger than that. But people like Ted Haggert, ‘mister I’m not gay or a drug addict, I just like getting naked massages from my gay drug dealing prostitute’, just make me want to vomit. But don’t worry the alcohol made him gay and a user and after 3 weeks in REHAB he’s CURED! Someone please, please, please, please literally knock some sense into that man. Ted, you’re gay. It’s ok. But the drugs you need to quit, have you seen the pictures of meth addicts they show on the news? No one is attracted to that.

5. Stereotypes – Most people know I’m black. I’m proud to be black and have no problem with my race (although I’ve met some who do have a problem with my race). And this abhorrence is universal, I’m sure all races deal with this. All black women ARE NOT like ‘New York’ from the Flava Flav show and I don’t know a black man who remotely resembles Flava Flav. I’ve seen stereotypes of southerners, Indians, Asians, Jews, and many other cultures that are just ridiculous. Muslims all over America are being forbidden to fly because of a stereotype. And I’ve met some stupid Asians. Not all southerners live in trailer parks. But as a black woman, knowing there are people like the girl ‘New York’ getting airtime and Condoleezza Rice is being hated on is ludicrous. You don’t have to like what Condi says or what she believes but please have more respect for her and for what she’s accomplished than for someone like ‘New York’. Not all black people listen to the junk on the radio (I’m in love with a stripper? Or Throw some d’s on it). It’s a shame that I’m judged based on such trivial stuff as this but it’s true. And it leads right back to ignorance.

One night my best friend needed to get something from Wal-Mart so as we walked in, we didn’t really pay attention to the people around us but out of no where a group of 6 white boys began singing to us “I’m in love with a black girl” to the tune of I’m in love with a stripper. Thinking they were so hilarious, they began laughing. So I headed their way and as I walked in the middle of their little group and looked the little leader right in the eye they coiled down shut up. Like I said before ignorance is not bliss, stereotypes are usually wrong and I won’t say what I feel about the average Wal-Mart shopper in the town I live in, you can make your own judgment.

Size Does Matter

It had been a few weeks since my birthday, and I still had gift cards burning a hole in my bag. Needed to shop, stat! When I entered the store, the blouse caught my eye. It was just too gorgeous for words! For months I had been looking for a kimono-style blouse to add to my wardrobe. Being a plus-sized gal, you have to be patient when finding all the “skinny” trends.

But my fashion prayers were seemingly answered. It was white with blue and gold flowers. The sleeves and neckline bordered with a different pattern in peacock blue. It tied neatly in the back so it would accentuate my shape, not my belly. Since I’ve been teetering between sizes from the waist up, I picked up the smaller and larger size.

I didn’t care how much it cost – I was getting this blouse. Hurriedly, I pulled the other blouse over my head, back to the mirror. I was already planning to include this in next month’s All Girls Vegas trip. It would fit perfectly.

“WHAT THE HELL!?” Well, it would fit perfectly if I could get it over my damn hips!

I looked at the tag on the blouse, thinking I had grabbed the wrong size, or maybe it had been tagged incorrectly. Nope. I picked my old size. Slipping it back on, I tugged at the delicate material, willing it to fit. But unfortunately, the way it was cut wouldn’t allow it to slip easily over my ample figure.

“Why don’t you just get the next larger size?” Lenny looked at me concerned.

I made a face and walked back over to the rack, hanging up two identical blouses. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“Just…” I looked at the piece of clothing longingly. “Just because, okay?”

Why couldn’t I just buy the next size up? I could just walk over there right now, grab the next size up and have my prized purchase.

Sadly, my pride just wouldn’t let me do it.

Two little numbers were all I needed to shut down the purchase. What kind of twisted pride was this? Oh what a difference a number makes! My own pride wouldn’t let me move up the ladder size wise! And I just couldn’t understand it. Nobody would have to know. It’s not like the girls in the office do a tag check when someone comes in with a new outfit. And truly, most everyone I know wouldn’t care one bit. But two random numbers on the tag of that blouse were all I needed to shut down the purchase.

It’s like this sense of loss to me. If I go up that extra size – it’s like I’m negating all the work I’ve done in the last year with my diet and exercise. Maybe worse of all, it makes me think that the negative influences in my life were right (and we all know how stubborn and insubordinate I can be about things like that!). Going up to that next notch makes me a “them.” And “them” is not where I want to be.

Darn it all…I want to be ME! I’m happy to be me. But I just can’t be happy with me if I’m a size larger. As shallow as that sounds, I don’t want to be “them.”

Try as we might to be humble and thoughtful creatures, we all have our points that we will not cross due to pride. I guess it’s true that everyone is susceptible to their ego. They say that youth is given a sense of vanity – but I think we carry that vanity with us always. No way to get rid of it. You have to adapt with it if you chose.

So instead of getting the one thing that would make me happy right now, I walked out of that store a little less than completely happy. After thinking about it the afternoon, there really is no harm in getting the blouse in the next size up. I let something as simple as a tag get in the way of a really nice piece of clothing. In all reality I should just suck it up, go back and claim my prize. Just drop all the hubris and get with it, Lily. Right?

Like hell I will. I’ll be perfectly honest with myself…size does matter.