Let me share what is really going on. That "Not nice" post - yes, it really happend. Yes, it really bothered me. Yes, I would react the same way in other circumstances. The first time I saw Network, it really spoke to me. I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore.
In addition to having trouble getting excessive junk mail from Charter and AT&T and dealing with poor customer service and questionable business practices from myriad other companies, I also have been living in two cities for nearly a year.
I rarely wake up knowing if I am in Birmingham or Auburn. (In my defense, I also have very vivid, very possible dreams and I can sleep pretty hard, especially in the hour or so before starting to wake up.)
I want to live in Auburn. Legally, I am a resident of Auburn. The air is fresh, the people are nice, and I just feel normal when I am in Auburn. (I'm not sure which word - here or there - is appropriate. That's how confused I am.)
In Birmingham, I have to fight traffic to go anywhere. Slow drivers, impatient drivers, unaware drivers. It's really stressful. I don't know what's so complicated about the speed limit being, generally speaking, 30 in residential areas, 40 on small highways/major roads primarily zoned for commercial purposes, and 55 on the highway. I pretty much avoid the interstate at all costs. Stop signs mean stop, therefore, lack of stop signs mean to proceed. Green lights mean continue, yellow means get ready to stop, red means stop.
Just over two years ago, my favorite car ever was totaled. I was in a McDonald's drive-thru (because I was so busy it was "now or never" to get lunch, and it was the best available option), was at the window and had just gotten my drink, when I heard tires squealing and metal clanging. I looked in my rearview mirrow to see this car come around the building, and I watched until it was about to hit me, at which point, I started praying, and prepared myself for the worst. My car was pinned against the building by the car that hit me. I had moved a couple of feet forward. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured. I had just bought my first home earlier in the week, and was distracted with other, more serious problems, which I can't talk about because some people would be very angry with me. So, scared, stunned, distracted, dazed, shocked, etc. me just kind of doesn't react to the situation. I was the last person to be interviewed by the police, I was the last person involved in the accident to be towed, and I never got to eat my lunch because it got cold by the time I was able to. I was covered in shards of glass and Coke. I had not had a chance to shower before I left the house because I hadn't gotten my gas turned on yet and was out of what was left of the hot water in the tank.
Of course, the person who hit me did not have insurance. They didn't even have a drivers license. And, of course, it wasn't even their car they were driving.
I did have insurance, so my insurance company took care of me. But the thing is, I couldn't buy a car that was equal to mine prior to it being totaled.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Not Nice
I've been dealing with really rude people all my life, and as I get older, it has only gotten worse. And, y'all, the number one reason for me deciding to move to Auburn was the people are nice. Seriously.
Lately though, I don't know if it's my hormones (not pregnant, just got some wacky hormone levels going on) or if it really is worse, but I have NOT been faring well when I've had to be in Birmingham (which could also factor in).
Let's start with AT&T. A couple of months ago some AT&T guy came to my door with a survey of sorts to try to figure out why more people in my Birmingham neighborhood have Bright House as opposed to AT&T. I told him, very nicely, that I choose not to support AT&T because I do not like their business practices. First, they outsource. Second, back before AT&T took over BellSouth, I had DSL and a land line in Auburn. When I moved back to Birmingham, I transferred my DSL to my mother's house. I didn't have any problems until I started receiving mail at my mother's house about my service at my old Auburn apartment (at least once a week, by the way). I tried to get off that mailing list and explain the situation, but I was told that was impossible. The last person I left a message with never returned my calls. Third, back in the '80's, AT&T promoted a bunch of men, then promoted women to fill the men's previous jobs, then cut out the position the women had gotten promoted to. I also hear that even though AT&T supposedly has a commitment to diversity, their business practices (and past) say otherwise. The guy at my doorstep vouched for AT&T saying that he did know African Americans who work with him. I told him diversity was about more than African Americans. He said he would get me off the mailing list. He didn't.
So, fastforward a little, and I realized I was going to have to either suffer without internet or cave in and get AT&T in Auburn ('cause I fired Charter down there for, you guessed it, poor customer service). I tried twice, with my girl, Girl Tuesday, as a witness, and all I got was more ammunition against AT&T. They were going to charge me way more than the advertised price for DSL.
I'm not even going to go there why I fired Charter. If you live in Auburn, Charter internet is pretty hit and miss. And the customer service is TERRIBLE.
Around the same time of the AT&T disaster, I realized my Macy's credit card bill had not been properly credited. If you have a Macy's credit card, you might know what I'm talking about here, so just go on to the next paragraph if you do. (If you don't, read this paragraph so you're aware of what happens.) Okay. So, when you get a Macy's credit card, you get a Macy's Visa, but it's actually a store account and a Visa. Same account number, two separate accounts. Tricky, huh? Well, when I paid my store account, it credited to my Visa, which I have never used (to this day). I tried calling customer service and I couldn't get through to the (outsourced) "customer service" person. I hung up. I went to the store to try to get it straightened out, and I was told to call customer service, but the NICE store clerk did call for me to try to straighten it out. She was told that I DO use my Macy's Visa. I called bullshit, thanked her for her assistance, and left. I called customer service again, had the same issues with communication, and finally got to someone who understood and somewhat spoke English. She just didn't enunciate very clearly. Girl Tuesday put that notion in my head, about how the woman should enunicate. So, when all was said and done, and she asked if there was anything else, I told her I did not like their outsourcing, their separate accounts for one account number, and how horrible the customer service was. She said I needed to tell that to someone else. So, I did something I really don't do very often, contrary to what my family thinks (they really have very little faith in me), and I yelled at her, "There is this thing called enunciation, and YOU need to learn how to do it!" and I hung up the phone and promptly left for Happy Hour.
That should have been strikes one, two, and three for Macy's, but I love that store, y'all. (Except for some of the hideous plus size clothes and the ever-shrinking women's department.) I love the home store. And the jewelry. Oh. My. Soul. Love it!
Two weeks ago, Girl Tuesday and I were in there, patiently waiting in line to ask for help since no one else was around to help us. You know what happened? The clerk took the woman who popped up "in line" after me. So, I just walked out of the store talking loudly about how upset I was.
Today, y'all, same thing happened, only at the purse counter.
Strike three.
The card is getting cancelled tomorrow.
To make things worse, my grandmother is in the hospital this week, and she has not had a pleasant hospital experience. The aides and nurses have been slow, short, and unprofessional with her.
So, consider yourselves warned, I'm disregarding Emily Post until this rude mess blows over, and I will not hesitate to call you out if you're being mean.
Better yet, I enourage y'all to be nice. My friend Melissa always says, "you never know what kind of day someone is having." She says this as her reason for being nice to others. So, be nice. You never know what kind of day someone is having.
Lately though, I don't know if it's my hormones (not pregnant, just got some wacky hormone levels going on) or if it really is worse, but I have NOT been faring well when I've had to be in Birmingham (which could also factor in).
Let's start with AT&T. A couple of months ago some AT&T guy came to my door with a survey of sorts to try to figure out why more people in my Birmingham neighborhood have Bright House as opposed to AT&T. I told him, very nicely, that I choose not to support AT&T because I do not like their business practices. First, they outsource. Second, back before AT&T took over BellSouth, I had DSL and a land line in Auburn. When I moved back to Birmingham, I transferred my DSL to my mother's house. I didn't have any problems until I started receiving mail at my mother's house about my service at my old Auburn apartment (at least once a week, by the way). I tried to get off that mailing list and explain the situation, but I was told that was impossible. The last person I left a message with never returned my calls. Third, back in the '80's, AT&T promoted a bunch of men, then promoted women to fill the men's previous jobs, then cut out the position the women had gotten promoted to. I also hear that even though AT&T supposedly has a commitment to diversity, their business practices (and past) say otherwise. The guy at my doorstep vouched for AT&T saying that he did know African Americans who work with him. I told him diversity was about more than African Americans. He said he would get me off the mailing list. He didn't.
So, fastforward a little, and I realized I was going to have to either suffer without internet or cave in and get AT&T in Auburn ('cause I fired Charter down there for, you guessed it, poor customer service). I tried twice, with my girl, Girl Tuesday, as a witness, and all I got was more ammunition against AT&T. They were going to charge me way more than the advertised price for DSL.
I'm not even going to go there why I fired Charter. If you live in Auburn, Charter internet is pretty hit and miss. And the customer service is TERRIBLE.
Around the same time of the AT&T disaster, I realized my Macy's credit card bill had not been properly credited. If you have a Macy's credit card, you might know what I'm talking about here, so just go on to the next paragraph if you do. (If you don't, read this paragraph so you're aware of what happens.) Okay. So, when you get a Macy's credit card, you get a Macy's Visa, but it's actually a store account and a Visa. Same account number, two separate accounts. Tricky, huh? Well, when I paid my store account, it credited to my Visa, which I have never used (to this day). I tried calling customer service and I couldn't get through to the (outsourced) "customer service" person. I hung up. I went to the store to try to get it straightened out, and I was told to call customer service, but the NICE store clerk did call for me to try to straighten it out. She was told that I DO use my Macy's Visa. I called bullshit, thanked her for her assistance, and left. I called customer service again, had the same issues with communication, and finally got to someone who understood and somewhat spoke English. She just didn't enunciate very clearly. Girl Tuesday put that notion in my head, about how the woman should enunicate. So, when all was said and done, and she asked if there was anything else, I told her I did not like their outsourcing, their separate accounts for one account number, and how horrible the customer service was. She said I needed to tell that to someone else. So, I did something I really don't do very often, contrary to what my family thinks (they really have very little faith in me), and I yelled at her, "There is this thing called enunciation, and YOU need to learn how to do it!" and I hung up the phone and promptly left for Happy Hour.
That should have been strikes one, two, and three for Macy's, but I love that store, y'all. (Except for some of the hideous plus size clothes and the ever-shrinking women's department.) I love the home store. And the jewelry. Oh. My. Soul. Love it!
Two weeks ago, Girl Tuesday and I were in there, patiently waiting in line to ask for help since no one else was around to help us. You know what happened? The clerk took the woman who popped up "in line" after me. So, I just walked out of the store talking loudly about how upset I was.
Today, y'all, same thing happened, only at the purse counter.
Strike three.
The card is getting cancelled tomorrow.
To make things worse, my grandmother is in the hospital this week, and she has not had a pleasant hospital experience. The aides and nurses have been slow, short, and unprofessional with her.
So, consider yourselves warned, I'm disregarding Emily Post until this rude mess blows over, and I will not hesitate to call you out if you're being mean.
Better yet, I enourage y'all to be nice. My friend Melissa always says, "you never know what kind of day someone is having." She says this as her reason for being nice to others. So, be nice. You never know what kind of day someone is having.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Oh, Boys
I've been having boy problems lately. (Perhaps, lately is an understatement ...)
It seems that my old next door neighbor only thinks of me when I'm in Birmingham. Let me just put this out there: he's in Auburn, not only does he know where I live, he's been to my place in Auburn, and he knows my car. Last week, I was sleeping away, minding my own business, when I hear my phone whistlin' at me. "What's up" he says. "Not much [lie]. You?" I respond. "Same here. Just thinking about you."
The nineteen-year-old me would have thought, "Awww. How sweet."
The jaded me thinks, "Why do you do this when I'm not in Auburn?" and then the Black Eyed Peas start floatin' through my mind. When the phone rings at two in the morning it only means one thing, baby.
So, do I channel the former me or stick to the BEPs?
I say there are only two people who can get away with calling me in the middle of the night. He's one of them. The other, he's sleeping. Why can't my dear former neighbor learn to do that? (Seriously, if you need someone to talk to in the middle of the night. Or take you to the hospital. Or bail you out of jail, but only if it's some trumped up charge or for a good cause - I'll be there for you. 'Cause I'm nice like that.)
In other boy news, The ex-Boyfriend was in true form yesterday. He was over to pick up his cats, as divided per the verbal break-up agreement, after being out of town for a week.
First, I asked if I gave him my old quilt. It's basically a navy blue, was on my bed for a few months, and is not the gray comforter he has. I made that very clear.
He SO brought over the gray comforter.
"I vaguely remember something other than white," was his response when I tried to explain for the ga-zillionth time what I was looking for.
Then, I noticed little Zoe has a crab claw growing out of her front right paw.
He seemed to be under the impression that cats' nails molt. No they don't. So, Zoe-cat stayed with her mommy an extra night so I could drop her off at the vet this morning.
In conclusion, my old neighbor needs to make a point to text me in the middle of the night when I'm in AUBURN and The ex-Boyfriend needs to learn the difference between gray and blue and a comforter and a quilt. (I think he's been schooled on the nature of cat nails.) And even though he has those moments all the time, The ex-Boyfriend is a much more reliable pick to keep company with than the old neighbor. Someone better man-up before I go back to the familiar four-year-long road I had with The ex-Boyfriend.
It seems that my old next door neighbor only thinks of me when I'm in Birmingham. Let me just put this out there: he's in Auburn, not only does he know where I live, he's been to my place in Auburn, and he knows my car. Last week, I was sleeping away, minding my own business, when I hear my phone whistlin' at me. "What's up" he says. "Not much [lie]. You?" I respond. "Same here. Just thinking about you."
The nineteen-year-old me would have thought, "Awww. How sweet."
The jaded me thinks, "Why do you do this when I'm not in Auburn?" and then the Black Eyed Peas start floatin' through my mind. When the phone rings at two in the morning it only means one thing, baby.
So, do I channel the former me or stick to the BEPs?
I say there are only two people who can get away with calling me in the middle of the night. He's one of them. The other, he's sleeping. Why can't my dear former neighbor learn to do that? (Seriously, if you need someone to talk to in the middle of the night. Or take you to the hospital. Or bail you out of jail, but only if it's some trumped up charge or for a good cause - I'll be there for you. 'Cause I'm nice like that.)
In other boy news, The ex-Boyfriend was in true form yesterday. He was over to pick up his cats, as divided per the verbal break-up agreement, after being out of town for a week.
First, I asked if I gave him my old quilt. It's basically a navy blue, was on my bed for a few months, and is not the gray comforter he has. I made that very clear.
He SO brought over the gray comforter.
"I vaguely remember something other than white," was his response when I tried to explain for the ga-zillionth time what I was looking for.
Then, I noticed little Zoe has a crab claw growing out of her front right paw.
He seemed to be under the impression that cats' nails molt. No they don't. So, Zoe-cat stayed with her mommy an extra night so I could drop her off at the vet this morning.
In conclusion, my old neighbor needs to make a point to text me in the middle of the night when I'm in AUBURN and The ex-Boyfriend needs to learn the difference between gray and blue and a comforter and a quilt. (I think he's been schooled on the nature of cat nails.) And even though he has those moments all the time, The ex-Boyfriend is a much more reliable pick to keep company with than the old neighbor. Someone better man-up before I go back to the familiar four-year-long road I had with The ex-Boyfriend.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Let's get political
Since when did people start thinking the only part of a beauty pageant where a contestant is judged is the questions?
I think it's great that finally, FINALLY, people are paying attention to what these contestants are saying. It's great that it's not ALL about how someone looks.
But, I have to wonder: Are we going to have to deal with a sore loser controversy everytime someone comes in runner up in a beauty pageant?
I didn't see Carrie Prejean live, but after seeing the headlines all over the news, I finally Googled and YouTubed the controversy. From my opinion, she didn't actually answer the question she was asked.
I did see the Miss USA question and answer portion of the show, and while at first I didn't think Miss Oklahoma fully answered the question, the more I watched it last night on TV, the more I realize she actually did. However, the woman who won Miss USA, answered her question very well, too.
Now, the news headlines are saying Miss Oklahoma is saying her answer lost her the crown. Guess what? Since you are being judged on it, then it is quite possible it cost you the crown, but there are other things you are being judged on in this competition. You can always provide a very neutral, peace-keeping answer if you are so afraid of it costing you a win, or you can say what you believe, and be proud of yourself for doing so.
I say what I believe all the time. And sometimes, someone has jumped down my throat for it. But, I know I am a nice, tender-hearted person and I know that I am not going to hurt anyone with my beliefs.
If you want to make a judgment for yourselves, YouTube it.
I think it's great that finally, FINALLY, people are paying attention to what these contestants are saying. It's great that it's not ALL about how someone looks.
But, I have to wonder: Are we going to have to deal with a sore loser controversy everytime someone comes in runner up in a beauty pageant?
I didn't see Carrie Prejean live, but after seeing the headlines all over the news, I finally Googled and YouTubed the controversy. From my opinion, she didn't actually answer the question she was asked.
I did see the Miss USA question and answer portion of the show, and while at first I didn't think Miss Oklahoma fully answered the question, the more I watched it last night on TV, the more I realize she actually did. However, the woman who won Miss USA, answered her question very well, too.
Now, the news headlines are saying Miss Oklahoma is saying her answer lost her the crown. Guess what? Since you are being judged on it, then it is quite possible it cost you the crown, but there are other things you are being judged on in this competition. You can always provide a very neutral, peace-keeping answer if you are so afraid of it costing you a win, or you can say what you believe, and be proud of yourself for doing so.
I say what I believe all the time. And sometimes, someone has jumped down my throat for it. But, I know I am a nice, tender-hearted person and I know that I am not going to hurt anyone with my beliefs.
If you want to make a judgment for yourselves, YouTube it.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Reading
Growing up, I LOVED reading. Spelling came very easily to me, as did reading. (I even won the first grade spelling bee!). The early days of Girl Sunday's reading history included:
Then, this thing called junior high school happened to me. We had to read books from a list, most of which I couldn't find a book I really, really liked. And when I admitted that in a reading journal, my eigth grade English teacher felt like we needed to have a come to Jesus about it. I am not exaggerating. I told her I didn't like the reading list and I read so much in my early days, I'm having trouble finding books of interest to me. See, I was always very mature for my age, but that didn't mean I was ready for the mature books. Or the thousand page books. In junior high, we also had to read so many pages of book per nine weeks. This was not my reading style whatsoever. The highlights of my junior high reading career were:
In college, I was a political science major and I minored in history. Y'all, I know I have said this a million times, but unless you are/were a poli sci/history student, you probably will not understand what that does to your desire to read a book for fun. All I read in college was history and philosophy and theory and politics and government, government, government. It was a great day when Glamour or Cosmo came in the mail!
A couple of years post-college, I got into reading again, and my favorites are:
My current reading list has been a lot of childbirth books and an Emily Post biography that I am still wading through, five months after I started it!
- the Little House on the Prairie series
- the Babysitters Club series
- anything and everything Judy Blume
- and whatever else I could get my hands on that sounded fun
Then, this thing called junior high school happened to me. We had to read books from a list, most of which I couldn't find a book I really, really liked. And when I admitted that in a reading journal, my eigth grade English teacher felt like we needed to have a come to Jesus about it. I am not exaggerating. I told her I didn't like the reading list and I read so much in my early days, I'm having trouble finding books of interest to me. See, I was always very mature for my age, but that didn't mean I was ready for the mature books. Or the thousand page books. In junior high, we also had to read so many pages of book per nine weeks. This was not my reading style whatsoever. The highlights of my junior high reading career were:
- in seventh grade, I was allowed to include short stories from magazines as my "pages", so I read up the teen magazines' short stories
- To Kill a Mockingbird
- The Outsiders
- Gone With the Wind
- Scarlett
- The House on Mango Street
- The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
- Pride and Prejudice
In college, I was a political science major and I minored in history. Y'all, I know I have said this a million times, but unless you are/were a poli sci/history student, you probably will not understand what that does to your desire to read a book for fun. All I read in college was history and philosophy and theory and politics and government, government, government. It was a great day when Glamour or Cosmo came in the mail!
A couple of years post-college, I got into reading again, and my favorites are:
- Tori Spelling books (sTORI Telling, Mommywood)
- Celia Rivenbark books (there are quite a few and very hilarious - and Southern!)
- Chelsea Handler (even though she's mean to my girl Tori, you can't help but laugh at Chelsea's stories)
- Eat, Pray, Love
- Strong Women, Soft Hearts and Better than my Dreams by Paula Rhineheart (these are devotional books and I LOVE them!)
My current reading list has been a lot of childbirth books and an Emily Post biography that I am still wading through, five months after I started it!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Update
Been to the beach. Destin, to be exact, with a side trip to Panama City (Margaritaville!) and a side trip to Grayton Beach (Red Bar! And art galleries!). Broke my lent buying lots of shoes and a few needed accessories (silver chains, floppy hat, visors) and one unneeded accessory (a rhinestone toe ring).
Became officially single. I’m happy that it’s officially over, but sad that it’s actually over. The Boyfriend and I had four good years together. It’s a shame he doesn’t think of himself as the marrying kind, because he and I worked spledidly together (for the most part, let’s just say it was as close to my dreams as reality would allow). But I have to remind myself if we were to get married, there was no chance of me having a baby. Ever. And as much as being a parent means more to me than raising a child from the newborn stage, I would be lying if I said I didn’t ever want that. I can make my peace with not ever having a newborn, but I would be wrong to not try to give myself that opportunity. Also, he would have had to deal with what it means to him to be married, and to him, that’s not a good thing. So, I no longer have two stepsons. And I no longer have six cats. And I no longer have a boyfriend to help make my house feel ike home.
I have been to Auburn quite a few times. Okay, I’ve basically lived in Auburn the past month and been to Birmingham only to work, host a baby shower, and celebrate my birthday.
I have spent time with a certain old neighbor who crossed me back in August. It was a good few hours. Just like old times. And then he’s acting strange again. Oh, well.
I have met another person. Not that it’s going to go anywhere, but at least I have taken the first couple of steps towards moving on again.
I have dyed my hair, mostly normal old black, but this time I got a little crazy and put some purple in there.
I have gotten inked again. Picasso’s Blue Dove on my left shoulder. Got my peace dove and my nod to art all in one. And while I’m on the subject, let me recommend Aaron at Aerochild in Birmingham. He did a great job, I took it “like a man” in the sense that I barely winced, but let’s be honest here – women can really take the pain, so I actually took it like a woman! The tattoo was only red just after getting it, and I never bruised or felt discomfort as it healed. It hardly itched, as well, which was a huge relief.
I have been accepted to massage school, and will begin on Monday. Another check in the box for me taking control of my life and moving forward.
I have started a new medicine that isn’t actually fixing all my problems, like we thought it might.
And finally, I have pretty much decided to go ahead and move into my mom’s house while I finish massage school and get the townhome rented out. I love the townhome, but it’s really big and lonely without The Boyfriend and his half of the cats. If I was really ready to let it go, it would be going on the market for sale. So, never say never, but it seems like it’s time to end the era of living alone. We shall see what God has in store. :)
Became officially single. I’m happy that it’s officially over, but sad that it’s actually over. The Boyfriend and I had four good years together. It’s a shame he doesn’t think of himself as the marrying kind, because he and I worked spledidly together (for the most part, let’s just say it was as close to my dreams as reality would allow). But I have to remind myself if we were to get married, there was no chance of me having a baby. Ever. And as much as being a parent means more to me than raising a child from the newborn stage, I would be lying if I said I didn’t ever want that. I can make my peace with not ever having a newborn, but I would be wrong to not try to give myself that opportunity. Also, he would have had to deal with what it means to him to be married, and to him, that’s not a good thing. So, I no longer have two stepsons. And I no longer have six cats. And I no longer have a boyfriend to help make my house feel ike home.
I have been to Auburn quite a few times. Okay, I’ve basically lived in Auburn the past month and been to Birmingham only to work, host a baby shower, and celebrate my birthday.
I have spent time with a certain old neighbor who crossed me back in August. It was a good few hours. Just like old times. And then he’s acting strange again. Oh, well.
I have met another person. Not that it’s going to go anywhere, but at least I have taken the first couple of steps towards moving on again.
I have dyed my hair, mostly normal old black, but this time I got a little crazy and put some purple in there.
I have gotten inked again. Picasso’s Blue Dove on my left shoulder. Got my peace dove and my nod to art all in one. And while I’m on the subject, let me recommend Aaron at Aerochild in Birmingham. He did a great job, I took it “like a man” in the sense that I barely winced, but let’s be honest here – women can really take the pain, so I actually took it like a woman! The tattoo was only red just after getting it, and I never bruised or felt discomfort as it healed. It hardly itched, as well, which was a huge relief.
I have been accepted to massage school, and will begin on Monday. Another check in the box for me taking control of my life and moving forward.
I have started a new medicine that isn’t actually fixing all my problems, like we thought it might.
And finally, I have pretty much decided to go ahead and move into my mom’s house while I finish massage school and get the townhome rented out. I love the townhome, but it’s really big and lonely without The Boyfriend and his half of the cats. If I was really ready to let it go, it would be going on the market for sale. So, never say never, but it seems like it’s time to end the era of living alone. We shall see what God has in store. :)
Monday, March 1, 2010
I'm not as old as I thought, but not as young as I used to be
So, I went to the Black Eyed Peas concert a couple of weeks ago. Before I even started asking people if they wanted to go with me, I was getting the "I don't like the Black Eyed Peas" vibe. That made me kind of nervous that I wouldn't have a date, but I stayed confident and threw it out there I was going until one of my friends (yay, Debbie!) admitted she liked them as well AND she wanted to go to the concert.
We feared we would be the oldest people there (not including parents taking their children), but it turns out there was nothing to fear. Not only were we not the oldest, we were also not the youngest. I also noticed a couple, where the boyfriend was definitely older than mine, and the girlfriend was SO MUCH younger than me. This is significant because it makes mine and my boyfriend's age difference seem really low. (And it only seems really high when I tell people how old he actually is. And how young I really am.). Anyway, that couple could have been father and daughter, but they were a little too cozy to be related, in my opinion.
On to the show ... HOW EXCITING! Well, after I had to sit through LMFAO (entertaining) and Ludacris (vulgar). I was THAT person - taking pictures constantly with my BlackBerry. They actually turned out pretty well. I don't think I've mentioned it here, but I have a HUGE crush on Taboo. He's got an interesting look, but when I actually fell in crush was when I was watching the Grammy nomination show and I saw him stand up and clap for the Jonas Brothers (and everyone else who performed, that I could tell). What a good sport! Now, the Jonas Brothers don't appeal to me, but I'm not a musician and I'm not a performer, so what do I really know?
Back to the show ... they played a LOT of songs, and the show was awesome. I think Debbie liked that they actually had instruments, as opposed to a record player. I also liked that instead of taking a break all together, they took turns doing some solo stuff - Fergie did some from her solo album, Will.I.Am did some DJ-ing, Taboo rode around in the air on a motorcycle, and Appl.De.App ... I forgot. I'm just getting to be familiar with his work and the show was a couple of weeks ago.
Maybe if I hadn't been trying to get a good picture the whole time, I would remember more. :)
They're the only show I've been to that I actually got up and danced a little. Very. Big. Deal.
They announced there would be an after party at 1120. I seriously considered going, until I got in the car, got Debbie dropped off, and realized the Space-man probably would not be up for joining me. And I realized it was about midnight and I wasn't up for driving the whole 2 miles there, parking, dealing with the club people, and fighting the sleepies. I opted for getting into bed and passing out, which worked out just fine.
By the way, do not waste your money on the big cup of frozen tropical drinks if you're drinking alcohol. They put the same amount in the small ones as the big ones. Ergo, the smaller ones have a higher alcohol ratio.
We feared we would be the oldest people there (not including parents taking their children), but it turns out there was nothing to fear. Not only were we not the oldest, we were also not the youngest. I also noticed a couple, where the boyfriend was definitely older than mine, and the girlfriend was SO MUCH younger than me. This is significant because it makes mine and my boyfriend's age difference seem really low. (And it only seems really high when I tell people how old he actually is. And how young I really am.). Anyway, that couple could have been father and daughter, but they were a little too cozy to be related, in my opinion.
On to the show ... HOW EXCITING! Well, after I had to sit through LMFAO (entertaining) and Ludacris (vulgar). I was THAT person - taking pictures constantly with my BlackBerry. They actually turned out pretty well. I don't think I've mentioned it here, but I have a HUGE crush on Taboo. He's got an interesting look, but when I actually fell in crush was when I was watching the Grammy nomination show and I saw him stand up and clap for the Jonas Brothers (and everyone else who performed, that I could tell). What a good sport! Now, the Jonas Brothers don't appeal to me, but I'm not a musician and I'm not a performer, so what do I really know?
Back to the show ... they played a LOT of songs, and the show was awesome. I think Debbie liked that they actually had instruments, as opposed to a record player. I also liked that instead of taking a break all together, they took turns doing some solo stuff - Fergie did some from her solo album, Will.I.Am did some DJ-ing, Taboo rode around in the air on a motorcycle, and Appl.De.App ... I forgot. I'm just getting to be familiar with his work and the show was a couple of weeks ago.
Maybe if I hadn't been trying to get a good picture the whole time, I would remember more. :)
They're the only show I've been to that I actually got up and danced a little. Very. Big. Deal.
They announced there would be an after party at 1120. I seriously considered going, until I got in the car, got Debbie dropped off, and realized the Space-man probably would not be up for joining me. And I realized it was about midnight and I wasn't up for driving the whole 2 miles there, parking, dealing with the club people, and fighting the sleepies. I opted for getting into bed and passing out, which worked out just fine.
By the way, do not waste your money on the big cup of frozen tropical drinks if you're drinking alcohol. They put the same amount in the small ones as the big ones. Ergo, the smaller ones have a higher alcohol ratio.
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