Humor & Honey

I wanted to follow up my previous post with a nice little essay about my love for children.  You know, I thought I’d display a little more of my sweeter-than-honey side.  Well the Arby’s franchise just won’t let it happen.  Arby’s is the fast food chain that’s been famous for their roast beef sandwiches.  While I have historically loved the convenience of fast food, I have never been a fan of Arby’s.  Nowadays I just think fast food chains are a bunch of mad scientists genetically engineering chickens, cows and potatoes.  Anyway, the beef at Arby’s just doesn’t look real to me.  And the cheese looks like a poor Cheez Whiz substitute. 

So Arby’s is now advertising a new “Philly Cheesesteak” made with angus beef and have the audacity to imply that it could rival any cheesesteak in Philadelphia.  The commercial features some dude dangling from the fingertip of the iconic William Penn Statue, hoisted high atop the City Hall building.  The implication is that a group of angry Philadelphians spent their time and energy putting him there because of a misunderstanding.  As he’s swinging by his sweater he clears up the communication error with the angry mob gathered below.  “No, no I never ever said that Arby’s new Ultimate Angus Philly was better than one of your famous Philly sandwiches.  I just said it was so good that even Philadelphians might like it.”  Then they show a few of the Philadelphians sampling the cheesesteak saying, “I know a good Philly and that’s a good Philly.”  Hogwash! Shenanigans!

As a native Philadelphian, I have a few problems with this commercial.  Firstly, we don’t call a cheesesteak a “Philly”.  We don’t even call it a “Philly Cheesesteak”.  It is a cheesesteak.  Just like we don’t refer to a soft pretzel as a “Philadelphia Soft Pretzel”.  We know where these items originated and are secure in our heritage, so we don’t need “Philly” or “Philadelphia” written on any of our delicacies.  No self-respecting Philadelphian would ever call any item a “Philly anything.”  That’s not how we roll.  And speaking of rolls, the Arby’s commercial showed the Philadelphians  eating their “Philly” with the entire roll in their hands (meaning it was not cut in half).  Foolishness!  Any cheesesteak of a respectable size could not be eaten like that.  It would have to be cut in half to be handled properly.  And even if it were a smaller cheesesteak we would still cut it in half.  Locals like to eat it from the fuller inside portion to the end of the roll. 

The second problem is that while the name Philadelphia means “the city of brotherly love”, it really isn’t.  We don’t really like tourists too much.  They are usually nice enough people, but they are also annoying… walking around with their cameras, fanny packs and maps.  We like for people to blend.  Become one with the city.  We don’t like for people’s accessories and actions to scream out, “Hey, over here!  I’m a tourist!  Have you seen Ben Franklin lately?”  This Arby’s commercial is going to cause some poor sap from Kansas to come to the city, go to a cheesesteak joint, and then do the unthinkable…ask for a “Philly”.  The only good thing in this scenario is that they won’t try to bite into it with the entire thing in their hands.  Any legitimate local cheesesteak/hoagie joint will automatically cut it in half.  What Arby’s has done just isn’t right and quite frankly it is irresponsible.  They are a big company and have a duty to advertise responsibly.  Do a little research before you shoot another commercial Arby’s.  Sigh…..

I’m calling for a boycott.  Who’s with me?

Until next time…Honey holding a picket sign

Happy Monday to all of you!  Today’s post is all about me.  Yes, me!  Lucky you for being able to read some random tidbits about Honey.  Enjoy and please comment about the item that surprised you the most, made you smile the most, or that you wish you hadn’t read LOL.  A few of them will sound familiar since they had previously appeared on the About Honey page, but there is so much more to read.  Oh, and I have also updated the About Honey page.  Check that out too!  Lot’s of new stuff today.  I know, I know…I rock   Alright, here goes it:

1. I am a Christian, but don’t let that scare you away!  Are you still reading?!  Ok, great!  Whew, glad we got through that one
2. I believe that Bigfoot probably exists.  I also think that Elvis is probably still alive and Tupac and Biggie are with him chillin’ on some tropical beach sipping on mojitos and laughing at all of us.  I’m very much partially serious about this by the way. 
3. I used to watch the Biggest Loser while sitting on the couch eating pizza and ice cream, all the while cheering the contestants on to weight-loss victory.  I’m more serious about this than item #2.
4. I will eat just about anything if it has cheese on it.
5. I have enough education to know that I can never stop learning.
6. I enjoy learning about other cultures and languages.
7. Hearing the accent of a person who lives in another part of the country intrigues me.  Hearing the accent of a person who is from another country intrigues me even more.
8. In my head I am a world traveler.  I just need my bank account to catch the vision.
9. I can stare at a map of the world for hours.  There are so many destination possibilities.
10. I especially like to look at maps of places named in the Bible.
11. I enjoy watching the Jewish people in my neighborhood walk to Temple on Fridays and Saturdays.  I guess I’m just a little jealous of the sense of community they all share.  Christians can learn a lot from them in that area. 
12. I wish it was socially acceptable to laugh out loud when I find something (or someone) to be funny in church.  This happens more often than I would like to admit.  Even at funerals.
13. Speaking of admitting things.  I don’t know how to ride a bike (a pathetic little story about my youth that I’ll blog about someday).
14. As a youth I had a dog named Snowball who was white.  She used to try to lay in my lap even as she grew large.
15. One day Snowball ran away.  My dad and I drove around for hours looking for her.  We never found her and she never came back
16. Before Snowball ran away she ate the Jade plant that my father had given me for my birthday.
17. I used to call the Jade plant a spoon plant because I thought the leaves looked like spoons.
18. I don’t care if you think I have a wacky imagination.
19. I do however care what you think of my writing.
20. I want to write books.
21. I like to read, but I don’t have a favorite author.
22. One of my favorites is A.J. Jacobs because he cracks me up.
23. I feel like someone will take my Negro card away if I don’t mention at least one Black author.
24. Ok, here are two. I like J. California Cooper, Jamaica Kincaid and Pearl Cleage. Oh wait, that’s three.
25. I rarely do math in my head anymore. It comes from my days working as a financial aid advisor and student accounts representative. Everything had to be so precise.
26. I still work in higher education.
27. I think some people with PH.Ds are idiots. I wonder how they were ever able to defend anything. 
28. Speaking of defense, I once considered going to law school.  Then I worked part-time as a proofreader at a court reporting firm and changed my mind.
29. I find it hard to proofread my own work.
30. I am my own worst critic.
31. I think I would do well as a food critic.
32. I like to go to restaurants with friends.
33. The best thing I have eaten this year at a restaurant was at a place in Old City Philadelphia. Popcorn with bacon renderings. Fancy way to say bacon grease. You should really fix your face and not judge me. Delicious stuff. I will blog about it someday.
34. I was thinking that I would make money blogging, but I don’t think I write often enough for that.
35. Speaking of writing, I also like John Grisham a lot.
36. I think his books are all better than the screenplays, which is usually the case.
37. In my opinion, the only exceptions to this rule are The Firm, The Godfather and The Color Purple.
38. Purple is my favorite color. Lavender actually.
39. I love to look at purple, but it really doesn’t look as good on me as lavender. Purple makes me look drab, like I just got finished puking.
40. I haven’t been to a carnival since I was about 9 years old. I went on that weird swing ride, got dizzy, and puked up some pink cotton candy and popcorn.
41. Rides in general make me dizzy and give me a migraine, especially roller coasters.
42. Lack of sleep, liquor and a certain spice I can’t identify by name gives me a migraine as well. I can usually detect it by smell, but I don’t know what it is.
43. I also don’t know how long I can keep this up…that is, writing this list.  
44. I sincerely hope I am not boring you.
45. When I am sitting somewhere bored I tend to pick at my nails, like taking the tips off to make them shorter or removing the cuticle.
46. As a result I don’t invest much money in going to nail salons.
47. I once paid $60 for a pedicure.  No, it wasn’t worth it.
48. I really hate feet, although I am thrilled that I have a pair.
49. My mom is a nurse.  When I was growing up she used to make me massage her feet when she came home from work. They were usually rough, calloused and sweaty. Thus, my hatred for feet began.
50. I don’t hate many things, but I do feel strongly about some.
51. I feel very strongly that meat should not be in a loaf.
52. I make a great loaf of banana nut bread.
53. My favorite nut is the cashew.
54. I’m a godmother to some great kids, but I’m not yet a mom.
55. I think children are the most authentic people on the planet.
56. The tiger lily is my favorite flower.
57. I killed a cactus once.  I think I may have given it too much water.
58. Listening to music makes me happy.
59. Singing makes me even happier.
60. When I was a teenager I used to blast music in my bedroom and dance every day after school. 
61. I used to be in love with Michael Jackson.  He was hot.  And then he got weird and started inviting kids over to his home for slumber parties.  He still made good music after that, but his sleeping habits became creepy. 
62. Madonna’s True Blue album was the first album I bought with my own money.
63. I love the smell of clothes being laundered.
64. Sometimes I wish that I lived in a society in which wearing clothes was optional.  I think I would be less stressed out in the morning trying to decide what to wear.
65. Most insects creep me out.
66. I get annoyed when people don’t spell or pronounce my name correctly.
67. I am naturally very, very shy.
68. I have a crush on Forrest Whitaker.  I don’t even care about his weird eye. 
69. Movies based on true events are totally cool: JFK, Malcolm X, Hotel Rwanda, etc.
70. I have never seen the Liberty Bell although I grew up in Philadelphia.
71. In addition to The Color Purple, JFK, Pretty Woman and Friday, The Muppets Take Manhattan is one of my favorite movies. 
72. Babies make me smile…until they cry.
73. I was born in the springtime on a Sunday morning.

You want more don’t you?  Perhaps I will indulge you all someday soon.  Just to be fair, why don’t you share 3 lesser known facts about your life and times with all of us…if you dare

Until next time…Honey

Andy Rooney of 60 Minutes fame announced that he is stepping down from his regularly scheduled commentary on the show.  He’s been delivering the commentaries since 1978 and that is about a gazillion years in TV time.  I have enjoyed Andy’s weekly insights, observations, rants and raves.  He made it plain, and generally made no apologies for the content.  There was a time or two when he was reprimanded, but all in all he has enjoyed a long stint of weekly uninterrupted face time with millions of viewers.  You have to love a person who can give it to you straight.  One of my favorite quotes from Andy is “I’ve said it and I’m glad”.  Ha!  What’s even better is that he would not succumb to the pressure to look camera-perfect during his tenure with the show.  He drew the line with his eyebrows and refused to have them trimmed. 

So with Andy Rooney’s departure, there needs to be an entrance.  That’s where I come in.  You get it?  See, I was being clever there.  Oh, nevermind!  Anyway, I want to be Andy Rooney’s replacement.  And by replacement I simply mean that I want his job.  Maybe “successor” is a better word.  I’ll grab the baton that he’s passing.  I’ll assume the role.  I’ll treat him like a mentor.  I will follow in his footsteps and then chart a new path of my own.  Yes, let’s use “successor” because I don’t think  you can ever truly replace another person.  And besides, I would bring my own unique style of writing and wit to the show.  My own bit of charm.  My own worldview.  But I will get a pet if that will help.  Andy has done a few commentaries about animals and household pets.  It made him look really loveable when he snuggled with a dog.  I can do that too!  Except I need his job so I can afford to hire a dog walker.  There is no way I am going to be picking up dog poo with a grocery store plastic bag like I see people doing in my neighborhood.  Yick!

As an act of faith I sent a note to the show and expressed an interest in the job.  I directed them here to read some of my writing.  So if you are from the show, I encourage you to take a look around.  Look at my picture.  Smile back at me.  Read my bio.  And then read some posts.  Some of my and my readers’ favorites are:

1.  Anybody Have a Stamp?! Irritated Rantings of a Mail Basher

2.  A Change of Part

3.  Pregnant Women and Their Cravings Can Get You Into Trouble

4.  My Favorite Couples & A Special Birthday Note

5.  I Don’t Pay for Liquor

6.  Random Act of Kindness Almost Gone Wrong

7.  Bigfoot: Real or Fiction

Ok, so I realize that I have given you seven posts to read and I only have a total of 17.  I’m not crazy or anything, I just have a lot of favorites.  I mean, there’s some good stuff here   Read, enjoy, chuckle, laugh.  And then call me.  You and your sponsors will be glad that you did.

Until Next Time…Honey, Accepting the Baton

I was listening to the Elvis Duran Morning Show…uh…this morning (seems redundant, but needed to be said nonetheless) and he shared something with his listeners that made me stop to think about success.  I think Elvis is based in LA, but the show is syndicated and carried on the radio waves nationally.  I don’t listen to the show every day, as I usually listen to the Steve Harvey or Yolanda Adams, or even the Tom Joyner morning shows.  But occasionally I tune into Elvis because they have some interesting bits like phone tap pranks, and one of his cohorts has this really contagious laugh.  I don’t remember her name, but her outbursts crack me up.

So this morning one of Elvis’ listeners sent him a picture that had been ciculating on Twitter of a billboard in West Virginia with his picture on it.  Someone had climbed up to the billboard and scribbled a mustache on his face.  Elvis thought it was funny actually and said now he knows that he has made it.  He even encouraged more people to draw mustaches on his billboards! I don’t know if I would have gone that far, I mean billboards cost a lot of money.  But it made me think. 

Why did the person draw the mustache?  And why did the original twitpic come from a local West Virginian competitor?  Why did she feel the need to further embarrass Elvis by sending the pic out into the universe for practically eternity? Why did my brother draw a mustache on my Michael Jackson poster when we were younger?!  Whew, I’m sorry I had a flashback, but it really happened.  I had that awesome poster of Michael Jackson wearing that really cool pale yellow sweater vest.  Man, was he hot.  I had placed it on the outside of my bedroom door and when I came home from school one day I was devastated!  My brother had drawn a mustache AND a pair of glasses on My precious Michael’s face.  I was so hurt and wondered why in the world would he do something like that.  The root of all of this must be some kind of jealousy (or evil in my brother’s case), but we’ll go with jealousy. 

So perhaps my brother was jealous that MJ was so cool and popular and women constantly swooned over him.  In the radio host’s case, maybe she is really jealous that Elvis Duran is hilarious and popular and she doesn’t have nearly the reach that he has.  Perhaps the mustache really does mean that Elvis has made it.  The mustache means that the targeted person has been extremely effective.  I’ve heard it said several times that if you ain’t got no haters, you ain’t doing something right.  I really don’t know who said it originally, so I can’t give the person proper credit, but it is true.  Even the Bible says, “Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets” Luke 6:26.

Greatness will always be challenged in some way, so if people are talking smack about you and you haven’t done anything to them…or heck you don’t even know them…then you can actually celebrate!  Michael Jackson and Elvis Duran were just being who and what they were supposed to be: fabulous.  Some people can’t handle that, but it doesn’t mean that you or I should dumb down our reach or influence in order to make some chump feel good.  What sense does that make?  So let them talk, let them draw mustaches and let them whine and wince every time you reach a new level of success.  I’m gonna embrace my mustache.  Let’s all cheer:  To The Mustaches!

Until Next Time…a Hairy Honey

When I worked for a former employer I had a colleague who was pregnant.  She loved to eat and seemed to have a different craving every day.  I’ve always been a believer in helping pregnant women out…you know, lifting stuff, listening to their complaints of body aches, nausea and swollen ankles.  And I also believe in indulging their food cravings.  So the colleague and I would have these food adventures every day.  One day we would have Chinese, the next Mexican and we ate lots of Caribbean.  We used to go to this one place that never had plantains.  We would ask every time we went there, but they never had them on the menu.  What kind of Caribbean place doesn’t have fried sweet plantains on the menu?!  The kind that has the best curry and jerk chicken ever.  They really didn’t need anything additional on the menu.

So one day the colleague was craving a cheesesteak.  Not just any ‘ole cheesesteak that you could order from some pizza joint.  No, she wanted a cheesesteak that was a 20-minute drive from where we worked.  But I was just as hungry and greedy as she was am a team player, so I happily obliged her.  We drove 20 minutes and found a great parking spot right in front of the place.  We were feeling good.  And then we noticed that one of the women who works inside was walking down the street with her apron on and she was eating something.  Potato chips or perhaps cookies.  My colleague and I looked at each other quickly and we both had the same thought.  We don’t want her cooking our food, so let’s get inside quick!

Good plan, but the execution was a bit rough.  My colleague was very pregnant, so she wasn’t able to move as quickly as we needed.  By the time I was able to help her out of the car, the Cookie-eating Cheesesteak Cook had beat us inside the store.  Just barely though.  I know she had not been in there long enough to wash her hands.  It was impossible.  I had heard from a health inspector once that you should wash your hands for at least two rounds of Yankee Doodle before even considering that they are clean.  This lady couldn’t have even reached sixteen bars.  So when she emerged from the back I was a bit surprised.  No, not suprised….creeped out.  I looked at my colleague and I knew that she didn’t want any part of this lady’s body touching her food, but the moment was quickly coming.  We gave the woman at the register our order.  “Two cheesesteaks please,” I said politely.  “Fried onions, mayo, salt, pepper and ketchup,” she asked.  I’m thinking to myself how nasty it is to put mayo on a cheesesteak especially since it is greasy already, and out of the corner of my eye I am watching the Cookie Monster to see if she is going to attempt to make our food.  “Uh, no. No mayo thank you.”

 So the moment is coming as if in slow motion.  I don’t know why crazy things happen to me in restaurants.  It was reminiscent of the Chipotle debacle, only it didn’t end with someone buying my food.  The Cookie Monster picks up a roll and begins to open it with her disgusting paws. She had probably licked them as she was eating the cookies.  In my head I imagined drops of her saliva singing a happy song as they danced across my roll.  I had to say something.  I had to stop her, but how?  I had never been in this position before.  My colleague didn’t want to say anything because…well she was pregnant and quite frankly the Cookie Monster looked a little rough and prone to fight if confronted.  Well I didn’t have anything growing inside of me except for panic laced with a little bit of rage, so I figured it was now or never.  My lunch was on the line after all. 

Me: “Uh, yeah, we’re gonna need someone else to cook our food. ”

Cashier: “Huh?”

Me: “We saw that lady outside right before we walked in and she was eating something”

Cashier: (blank stare)

Me: “She didn’t have enough time to wash her hands.”

Cookie Monster: “I washed my hands!”

Me: (calmly) “No ma’am you couldn’t have.  We came in right after you and you didn’t have enough time to wash your hands.  Can someone else make our food please?”

Cook standing off to the side: “What exactly is the problem?” (*she knew exactly what the problem was because she had been standing there the whole time listening.  I’m sure she even knew that Cookie Monster’s hands were full of crumbs and drool*)

Cookie Monster: (getting increasingly angry) “She talkin’ ’bout I didn’t wash my hands.  I always wash my hands!”

Me: (calmly again) “It is impossible for you to have washed your hands properly.  We would like someone else to make our food please.”

Cookie Monster: “One of y’all can make their food.  I don’t feel like making it anyway.  (getting angrier) Tellin’ me I didn’t wash my hands.  (looking at me as if she wants to punch me) I always wash my hands!”

This lady was mad.  I mean, if we were living out a cartoon scene there would have been smoke coming out of her ears.  I looked at her calmly as if to say, “aww boo…c’mon…you’re at work, why are you acting that way.”  The look she gave me let me know that I should probably get moving as soon as my cheesesteak was done.  I felt like my colleague and I had been banned.  I thought about the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld.  No cheesesteak for you!  There was like this unspoken understanding that my colleague and I should really not visit that place for a while…as if we did something wrong.  It really sucked because my colleague was still pregnant for another couple of months and craved a cheesesteak again.  We thought it was best for us to order from a pizza joint.

Until Next Time…A Banned from the Cheesesteak Joint Honey

Since I shared with you all that I don’t pay For liquor - which most of you agreed with – I thought I would share a few more things that I don’t do…just because…well this is my blog and I want you to know me better and experience a little part of my brain space.  You don’t have to think any of it makes sense.  I just want you to enjoy!  I don’t do:

1. Scary Movies – they are just simply too…scary.  I don’t understand why people willingly want their hearts to race, blood pressure to rise and skin to crawl.  That’s not fun!  Or maybe I am the one who is no fun.  I just know that I have a vivid imagination and will be thinking of the ghosts, demons, goblins and space creatures long after the credits have rolled and the popcorn has been swept up.  I remember seeing the movie Signs starring Mel Gibson in the theater – which most of you probably don’t think was scary – and for months after that I thought that anything going bump in the night was an alien.  I’m sorry I just can’t do it. 

2. Meatloaf – I just don’t feel like meat should be in a loaf.  A patty?  Sure.  a hunk (as in a hunk of meat)?  Definitely.  But a loaf?  Bread should be in a loaf.  I can even do cake as a loaf…or maybe even some sort of pastry or cobbler since they are both breadish.  But meat?! Who even had that thought in the first place that one should mold some ground up meat into the shape of a log?  It reminds me of a big piece of bodily excrement.  Yick.  No thanks.

3. Easter Outfits – I just think it is frivolous.  You can tell me to mind my own business and get out of your closet.  I can take it.  But really…does Jesus give a good hallelujah about how nice you look on Resurrection Sunday?  On that great morning He wasn’t wearing much of anything except for a death cloth, so why do we spend money on a dress, hat, shoes and a matching purse?  Yeah, the bonnets are cute, but after Easter when will little Susie or little Keisha ever wear it again?  Exactly. Just give the money to the church or to the poor or something. 

4. Eat in the Dark - I’m a visual kind of gal.  A sensory kind of eater.  I like to smell the food, touch the food and feel it even.  If it doesn’t feel right, then I can’t eat it.  Like water chestnuts.  I don’t like the way they feel against my teeth as I chew them.  Gives me the creeps in a similar way that nails on a chalkboard creeps out other people. Most importantly, I like to see the meal or snack that is before me.  If it looks good it may actually taste good.  If it doesn’t look good, I want to be able to try to dissect it and get rid of the yucky stuff and salvage it if I can.  If something is in there that shouldn’t be like a hair or an insect I want to know.  The only exception to any of this is eating popcorn at a movie.  I don’t know why.  It just makes sense. 

What are some things you don’t do that may not make sense to others, but makes perfect sense in your world?  Go ahead and tell.  I won’t judge

Until Next Time….Honey

I have a lot of favorite couples.  They are the ones whom I model the “marriage in my head” after.  I say things like, “when I get married I wanna be like so and so” or “I hope my husband treats me as good as so and so’s husband treats her” or “I hope I can be a great wife like so and so.”  I seem to talk about “So and So” a lot in my head.  As a woman who wants to be married living in a country where the divorce rate makes the debt ceiling look low, it is advantageous to have some role models…just to help to keep the dream alive.  Among my favorites are:

1. Will and Jada Smith – ’cause they are so lovey dovey in public and it actually seems genuine…AND you don’t hear a whole lot of drama about them in the tabloids

2.  Michelle and POTUS Obama – for obvious reasons, but if you really need an explanation…they make Black people proud.  ‘Nuff said.  He has swagger and she has grace.  And together they have done amazing things.  I just love the way Barack’s eyes light up when he talks about his wife and kids.  It is endearing and precious. 

3.  Beyoncé and Jay-Z – They keeps it private.  We don’t know a lot about their lives.  They haven’t given us access to a whole lot.  They are protective of the sacredness of their world together.  You gotta love that.  Again, we don’t hear a lot of craziness in the tabloids about their marriage Beyonce’s daddy is a different story though.  And let’s not even talk about the amount of cash they have between them.  They even have the nerve to be very generous.  Sure, they’re getting tax breaks because of it, but c’mon…how can you not love a man who is making sure that some African children in a village you’ve never heard of get to drink clean water every day? Bring on the tax breaks and bring on the H2O!

4. Michelle and Ariel Rivera – oh wait you don’t know them!

Michelle and Ariel are my good friends.  I love hanging out with them.  They are laugh out loud funny and are two of the most sincere hearts I have ever met.  They work hard and play harder.  Their mission in life seems to be to love people and to bless them.  And boy are they accomplishing their mission!  Ariel and Michelle have this insane ability to make you feel normal even if you are a complete weirdo.  I should know.  The thing that I love the most about them is that for as much as they love other people, they love one another even more.  And they do these great things to show it like celebrating Birthday Week.

Birthday Week is 7 days of birthday bliss.  Whenever one of them has a birthday coming they plan an entire week of activities to celebrate the other person.  Today is Ariel’s birthday, but the festivities started on Sunday.  Michelle surprised him by inviting some of his favorite people (including yours truly) to their home to kick-off the week.  He knew that people were coming over, but he thought it was just a few.  Boy was he surprised when he ended up having a house full of people!  Michelle didn’t tell the guests where he had a birthday registry.  She didn’t give us a list of his favorite things.  She simply asked us to bring a meaningful card or to write him a note.  She thought that he would like that.  Well, I have procrastinator-like tendencies, so I didn’t think about doing either of those things until Sunday.  The only problem was that I was babysitting my toddler god-daughter and just didn’t have the energy to think of meaningful words plus worry about nap time, bath time, story time and bedtime.  Hats off to all the parents of toddlers out there.  Really.

So here it goes Ariel.  I’m blowing you up on my blog in lieu of making the Hallmark people richer.  Thanks for allowing me to come to your home and feel like I am an honorary Rivera.  Thanks for being so generous with your time, talent and treasure because people like me are blessed by it.  Thanks for sharing your wife with me when she and I need some girl time…although you will ALWAYS be one of the girls.  Thanks for remembering every line from Friday and for not hesitating to share them all with me.  Felicia only wishes she had friends like you and Michelle.  I know you guys would let me borrow your VCR, car, or a cup of sugar if I ever needed to.  (Readers, the last two lines are an inside joke, but if you rent the movie Friday starring Ice Cube & Chris Tucker and you watch it about 50 times, you will likely get it….lemme know how that works for ya LOL).  Back to you Ariel, I want you to know that you are an inspiration because I adore the way you are so loving toward your wife.  You look at her with eyes of love and support her with hands of service.  I want the same and the fact that you exist for her means that it is possible for me too.  Have a happy birthday and may God bless you with many, many more.

So everybody, who are your favorite couples?  What’s so special about them?

Until next time…Honey

I’m very fortunate to have some great friends.  I have old friends and new friends alike and they are fabulous people.  I consider myself to be a good friend also.  I’m not perfect, but I’ve put in more than my fair share of time and effort to show that I care.  Sometimes this has entailed going along with some crazy stuff.  I’ve been known – a time or two – to help out a friend who is up to some real shenanigans.  Mostly to make sure they don’t go too far and end up six feet under, in jail or on TV.  I’ve always been kinda the “ride or die” friend in that way…only I refuse to end up dead. 

For instance, years ago when a scorned friend wanted to go to “key” her ex’s car I went along for the ride.  I made her think that I thought it was a good idea and offered to ride with her only because I knew she was going to do it with or without anybody’s help.  I even played the part by getting into the car wearing an old hoodie, jeans and a pair of sneakers…and I managed to find a screwdriver for the “keying”.  Any of you who know me know that I am in no way the handy type.  So where in the world did I even find a screwdriver?  The same place I found the old hoodie…in the back of a closet.  I knew that I had sweat really badly in that hoodie the last time I had worn it, but fortunately the funk seems to dissipate from clothes if you leave them alone for several months.  Or maybe that’s just what I told myself.

I’m usually good in a crisis.  Well actually, I am good in other people’s crises.  My own?  Not so much.  But when other people are having a rough time or in some crazy emotional state I am usually good with handling the situation.  In her defense he really did her dirty.  Real dirty.  He cheated on her several times and bought some other chicks gifts with her money!  So I really couldn’t blame her for wanting to do it.  I just didn’t want her to land in jail and have to use cigarettes as currency for the next couple of years after.  So, I went along.  Fortunately the ride to the ex’s house was about a 45 minute ride.  In that amount of time I was able to do one of the things I do best with other people.  I made her laugh. 

Amazing things can happen when we just lighten the heck up.  The laughter was really just a way to take her focus off the severity of her emotions and open a door to being able to talk some sense into her.  I mean she and I both could have gotten into some serious trouble.  Sure we were under the cloak of darkness, but that could have been the one night the cops were out doing their jobs instead of eating coffee and donuts.  Or, the dude could have caught us in the act and beat us up.  Well actually, he had kind of a slight build so I don’t know if he would have done too much damage without a weapon.  I mean I always felt like if you blew on him he would have collapsed.  But whatever.  What if he did have a weapon? 

Anyway, we talked about jail.  Prison ain’t pretty.  Those jumper uniforms are in no way fashionable and you have to go to the bathroom in the open. ..where you and your cellmate sleep.  How nasty is that?!  Who would want to live under those conditions?!  This actually made her laugh really hard and caused her to rethink her intended actions.  ”Is he worth having to smell your cellmate’s defecation as you count sheep at night,” I asked?   No he wasn’t.  And yes, I do recall posing the question like that.  I told her to be thankful that she had finally accepted the truth about him and to simply walk away.  They didn’t have any attachments like property, kids or a pet, so she never had to see him again if she didn’t want to.  By the way, she did see him again a few months later.  She was feeling uh…um…nostalgic one night and had a lapse in judgement. 

Anyway, after some consideration about facing someone else’s defecation, she made a U-turn and we headed for home.  I’m glad that I could be there for her.  And I’m glad that years later when I wanted to key an ex’s car (I told you I’m not so good in my own crisis), another friend was there for me to talk me out of it.  So what crazy things have you talked a friend out of doing?  Or just to keep it real, what have they talked you out of doing?

Until next time…Honey, the Good Friend

It is no secret to you all that I am working on myself.  For the purposes of this blog I have mainly been focusing on my attitude and the way I treat and relate to other people.  But I realize that I really need to change some of the ways in which I treat and relate to myself.  I like to try new things, but basically I am a creature of habit.  I like what I like and I stick with what works.  Unfortunately, sometimes I also stick with the familiar even if it is not working.  The only real exception to this is that I am usually willing to try new restaurants even though I already have my favorites.  And I may be willing to try something off the wall…like the time I ate buffalo and the other time I ate alligator sausage.  We’re not even gonna talk about the time I ate chittlins.  That will never happen again.  Yick.

So I kind of stick with the familiar and do not deviate from it until it is absolutely necessary or until someone bugs the crap out of me about it.  My hairdresser recently did that to me.  She’s always trying to get me to do something new.  Lately, we have been experimenting with color.  We went lighter.  The next time I needed color she asked if I wanted to try going a little lighter.  Sure, why not?  Well she practically made me a blonde…but somehow it worked and I got LOTS of compliments on it.  It was cute for a time, mostly because I was being cheap and stopped going for a while but now we are back to a darker color. 

So the last time I was there she asked how I wanted her to style my hair.  “I dunno.  Something easy and manageable,” I said.  She wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t backing down this time.  I just didn’t feel like being different.  I wanted to do the same old thing and know that I would at least be satisfied.  I wasn’t budging and neither was she.  Finally she said, “How about we just change your part to the other side?”  A million thoughts went racing through my mind.  What if I don’t like it?  What if the strands of hair on the other side revolt and I end up looking like Alfalfa?  What if it feels…unnatural?  What if…what if..I like it?  Sigh. ”Sure, I think I may be able to deal with a change of part,” I said.  And then maybe she could get off my doggone back!

As she styled my hair it did feel strange.  I had become so accustomed to feeling hair over the right side of my face and now she was moving it to the left.  All of a sudden I got really antsy and I was hearing Beyoncé singing  “To the left, to the left.”  I know, I know…yes it was crazy.  Absolutely.  But you are talking to someone who is a creature of habit.  And I couldn’t see what she was doing.  They never turn your chair toward the mirror until after they have done their handiwork.  When she finally let me see the new style I was blown away.  It was amazing that such a “small” change made such a huge difference.  It was great!

And it set off a chain of differences with me.  I’ve started to feel differently about things.  That same day my god-daughters and I went to Target to buy a new shower curtain and rugs for the bathroom.  Wow!  It was such a simple thing, but the whole place looks so much different now.  It has more character.  I think that I have more character!  I haven’t arrived yet, but I’m certainly better than I was before.  Amazing what a change of part can do.

So my friends, what small changes have you made that have caused your existence to become better?

Until next time…A Partly Changed Honey