You all may have heard me use this phrase in the past. I can't remember who I got it from, but I assure you that I didn't come up with it on my own. Those that haven't heard it before are probably wondering exactly what classifies something as a "ghetto tragedy". A ghetto tragedy is something that can happen anywhere, but is only a tragedy in the ghetto, OR it is something that would ONLY happen in the ghetto, and therefore, is a tragedy. Example: Fried chicken/fish with no hot sauce...ghetto tragedy; Koolaide with no sugar...ghetto tragedy; showing up an hour and forty-five minutes late for your wedding in a Chevy Avalanche...ghetto tragedy; running out of plates at the buffet, and having to shut it down so you can wash more...ghetto tragedy; having a dry wedding, and your husband, groomsmen, and wedding coordinator sneaking into the kitchen and drinking...ghetto tragedy. I think you get the picture.
I think that's all I'm going to say about this one, ya'll comment with your examples.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Put me to Sleep
As promised, I return from the Big Apple with some funnies to share. As if the universe felt like we were in danger of a lack of material once we arrived in the city, we were provided with all kinds of entertainment on the bus en route. Jam and I rode the Bolt Bus. This has to be one of the greatest ideas ever. This thing was beautiful. It's a brand new bus, with leather seats, WiFi internet access, and a bathroom with a FLUSHING toilet (this didn't turn out to be one of the pros by the time we were headed home though, we realized that the toilet flushes with the pee that's in it....I don't think there's anything more gross than that). For some reason, I got on the bus thinking that I'd see all of the foolishness one we got into the city, but we got a few special gems on the ride there.
So, we're standing at the corner of 10th and G, with our brand new Kenneth Cole laptop backpacks stuffed to high heaven, and the biggest smiles that you'll ever see because not only are we headed to NY to see a gorgeous baby and participate in some much deserved reatil therapy, but we're making the trip for a whopping $44 round trip, AND we can catch up on Grey's Anatomy on the ride. As we're standing on the corner looking like two fifth graders on the way to patrol camp, up pulls the most beautiful bus you ever did see.
The bus driver comes off and asks Jam and I to make sure no one steals her bus, and she goes to smoke a cig and buy a hotdog. For some reason, I like her already. The first hot mess that we witnessed were representatives of the homosexual epidemic that is sweeping today's high schools. Now don't get me wrong. There were gay boys at my high school, and to be honest, one of my best friends in high school was a gay boy named Scott, who blamed his high voice on complications during puberty...turns out he just liked the way it sounded. But Scott wore New Balance, slouch socks, sweatpants, and white tees just like every other boy at school. Now, if you're a man that happens to enjoy the "company" of a man, I can totally dig it, but you're not a woman. And frankly, gay men are some of the most stylish men on the planet, and I just hate that they might end up wasting their impeccable taste and unparalleled wit on the energy it would take to transform themselves into a woman (this does not apply to the beloved drag queens and transgender folks...just keep reading, you'll see what I mean). Ok....stepping down from the soapbox. These little boys, not only wore women's clothes, but were sporting women's hairdo's. But here's the kicker....the fool had a full beard and mustache!! Why the hell wouldn't you try to make your face look like a woman too? This is clearly a case of a child that changes his clothes when he gets to school. We also saw many delusional people sporting fingerwaves, but that's another blog in and of itself. And I can't forget about the woman with the comb over that started from behind her right ear, and went all the way around the other side into her ponytail in the back....think about it for a minute and you'll get a visual.
So, we're looking around at the people that are waiting to board the bus, and we notice a handicapped couple with matching electric wheel chairs, and another couple with a baby. First words out of Jam's mouth, "Ya'll better keep that baby happy". I totally agree. The kid was fine though. The problem? The handicapped people. Now, I think the reason that they became a problem is because the woman was not handicapped. She was just fat...and in a wheel chair. Obesity is not a handicap...I don't care WHAT you say. A handicap is an impairment that you have no control over. Obesity is something that you did to yourself...over time...and wouldn't stop. So, my homegirl, the busdriver comes back, and gets on the bus, but doesn't let us on. She gets on the phone with "her people", and they tell her that the bus is only going to make one stop. 6th ave and Canal street. Where do we want to go? I can't remember now, but it wasn't that, lol. So we have to wait for the next bus. Now, if God didn't have such a healthy sense of humor, he would've allowed the obnoxious fat woman and her sheepish husband to get on this bus. But NO, he's quite the jokester, and she has to wait with us for the next bus, not before continuing to scream at the busdriver that her ticket says that the bus will leave at 4:00pm and stop at such and such.
So we wait about 25 seconds, and the second bus pulls up, and the driver hops off. Not before he has to re-park the bus four times to accomodate that "handicap" entrance to the bus. I'd also like to clarify my frustration with this woman. Jam saw her get up out of the wheelchair and walk. So for those that were getting irritated by my seemingly complete disregard for handicapped people, can get your panties out of a bunch. I'm notorious for giving up my seat on the train for the elderly AND the handicapped.
We get on the bus finally, and by the time we get to New York Ave, we hear snoring...LOUD snoring. Of course, it only makes sense for it to be her. So we go on, and try to enjoy our ride. Once we get used to her snoring, she wakes up. And now she begins screaming at her husband. They weren't arguing, he was talking, and she was screaming at him. About what, I don't know, but essentially, she told him to do whatever he wants do, she's getting on the subway at Penn Station. How mean is it for her to leave her legitimately handicapped husband? This woman was insane.
We get to a place about an hour outside of the city, and the busdriver pulls into a rest stop. He turns on the lights, and we're just sitting there. What Jam and I can't see from where we're seated is that busdriver has gotten off the bus and locked the door. He's gone for about 20 minutes, gets back on the bus, and pulls off. He never said a word. That's gangsta.
I'm sure many of you are thinking that the title of the blog is in reference to the snoring fat woman on the bus, but quite the contrary, it's something that my pastor said to me Sunday. I went over to the house to do my cousin's hair, and my pastor wanted to follow-up with me to see how I've been since we last had a real conversation. I was telling him how well I was doing, and sharing my testimony of happiness, and renewed joy, and told him about how I no longer want to get married. This surprised him a bit until I explained myself (see "I"m not in the Mood"). Once I did, he told me how happy was to hear it. And moved on to give me a piece of advice to go along with what I was already doing...
Pastor said that my prayer should be "Lord, put me to sleep". Of course, I asked him exactly what this means. To me it sounded like he was telling me to ask God to kill me, and that's not at all what I want, lol. But he went on to explain that the most perfect and holy union in creation was that of Adam and Eve. We all know the story, and know how Adam and Eve were cast out of the garden for allowing the devil to take advantage of them, but at it's inception and until the point of it's corruption, it was the most perfect union. When God created Adam, he knew that he needed a companion; and he put him to sleep in order to create her. By asking God to put you to sleep, you are asking God to help you to tune out all of the foolishness, all of the would be suitors and husbands, all of the crap that goes along with LOOKING to get married, and ONLYwake me up, when you've created what you want for me. And not only to tune them out, but to be unaffected by them.
Now, my Grandma Lucille used to always say, "Be careful what you pray for because you just might get it". I would have to say this is definitely one of those situations. I'm TRULY unaffected, much to the dismay of a few others, but I honestly believe that I feel what I'm supposed to feel, when I'm supposed to feel it. I've even tried to force feelings when they weren't there, only to be even MORE turned off. Turning down gifts and outings, and vacations, and such because I truly don't want to spend time with someone that I'm not interested in. For some reason I feel like when I do that, my soul is being drained. So I'm truly feeling and doing what's real. And I like it, it feels so natural...it might hurt some feelings, but eh...what are you gonna do?
So, we're standing at the corner of 10th and G, with our brand new Kenneth Cole laptop backpacks stuffed to high heaven, and the biggest smiles that you'll ever see because not only are we headed to NY to see a gorgeous baby and participate in some much deserved reatil therapy, but we're making the trip for a whopping $44 round trip, AND we can catch up on Grey's Anatomy on the ride. As we're standing on the corner looking like two fifth graders on the way to patrol camp, up pulls the most beautiful bus you ever did see.
The bus driver comes off and asks Jam and I to make sure no one steals her bus, and she goes to smoke a cig and buy a hotdog. For some reason, I like her already. The first hot mess that we witnessed were representatives of the homosexual epidemic that is sweeping today's high schools. Now don't get me wrong. There were gay boys at my high school, and to be honest, one of my best friends in high school was a gay boy named Scott, who blamed his high voice on complications during puberty...turns out he just liked the way it sounded. But Scott wore New Balance, slouch socks, sweatpants, and white tees just like every other boy at school. Now, if you're a man that happens to enjoy the "company" of a man, I can totally dig it, but you're not a woman. And frankly, gay men are some of the most stylish men on the planet, and I just hate that they might end up wasting their impeccable taste and unparalleled wit on the energy it would take to transform themselves into a woman (this does not apply to the beloved drag queens and transgender folks...just keep reading, you'll see what I mean). Ok....stepping down from the soapbox. These little boys, not only wore women's clothes, but were sporting women's hairdo's. But here's the kicker....the fool had a full beard and mustache!! Why the hell wouldn't you try to make your face look like a woman too? This is clearly a case of a child that changes his clothes when he gets to school. We also saw many delusional people sporting fingerwaves, but that's another blog in and of itself. And I can't forget about the woman with the comb over that started from behind her right ear, and went all the way around the other side into her ponytail in the back....think about it for a minute and you'll get a visual.
So, we're looking around at the people that are waiting to board the bus, and we notice a handicapped couple with matching electric wheel chairs, and another couple with a baby. First words out of Jam's mouth, "Ya'll better keep that baby happy". I totally agree. The kid was fine though. The problem? The handicapped people. Now, I think the reason that they became a problem is because the woman was not handicapped. She was just fat...and in a wheel chair. Obesity is not a handicap...I don't care WHAT you say. A handicap is an impairment that you have no control over. Obesity is something that you did to yourself...over time...and wouldn't stop. So, my homegirl, the busdriver comes back, and gets on the bus, but doesn't let us on. She gets on the phone with "her people", and they tell her that the bus is only going to make one stop. 6th ave and Canal street. Where do we want to go? I can't remember now, but it wasn't that, lol. So we have to wait for the next bus. Now, if God didn't have such a healthy sense of humor, he would've allowed the obnoxious fat woman and her sheepish husband to get on this bus. But NO, he's quite the jokester, and she has to wait with us for the next bus, not before continuing to scream at the busdriver that her ticket says that the bus will leave at 4:00pm and stop at such and such.
So we wait about 25 seconds, and the second bus pulls up, and the driver hops off. Not before he has to re-park the bus four times to accomodate that "handicap" entrance to the bus. I'd also like to clarify my frustration with this woman. Jam saw her get up out of the wheelchair and walk. So for those that were getting irritated by my seemingly complete disregard for handicapped people, can get your panties out of a bunch. I'm notorious for giving up my seat on the train for the elderly AND the handicapped.
We get on the bus finally, and by the time we get to New York Ave, we hear snoring...LOUD snoring. Of course, it only makes sense for it to be her. So we go on, and try to enjoy our ride. Once we get used to her snoring, she wakes up. And now she begins screaming at her husband. They weren't arguing, he was talking, and she was screaming at him. About what, I don't know, but essentially, she told him to do whatever he wants do, she's getting on the subway at Penn Station. How mean is it for her to leave her legitimately handicapped husband? This woman was insane.
We get to a place about an hour outside of the city, and the busdriver pulls into a rest stop. He turns on the lights, and we're just sitting there. What Jam and I can't see from where we're seated is that busdriver has gotten off the bus and locked the door. He's gone for about 20 minutes, gets back on the bus, and pulls off. He never said a word. That's gangsta.
I'm sure many of you are thinking that the title of the blog is in reference to the snoring fat woman on the bus, but quite the contrary, it's something that my pastor said to me Sunday. I went over to the house to do my cousin's hair, and my pastor wanted to follow-up with me to see how I've been since we last had a real conversation. I was telling him how well I was doing, and sharing my testimony of happiness, and renewed joy, and told him about how I no longer want to get married. This surprised him a bit until I explained myself (see "I"m not in the Mood"). Once I did, he told me how happy was to hear it. And moved on to give me a piece of advice to go along with what I was already doing...
Pastor said that my prayer should be "Lord, put me to sleep". Of course, I asked him exactly what this means. To me it sounded like he was telling me to ask God to kill me, and that's not at all what I want, lol. But he went on to explain that the most perfect and holy union in creation was that of Adam and Eve. We all know the story, and know how Adam and Eve were cast out of the garden for allowing the devil to take advantage of them, but at it's inception and until the point of it's corruption, it was the most perfect union. When God created Adam, he knew that he needed a companion; and he put him to sleep in order to create her. By asking God to put you to sleep, you are asking God to help you to tune out all of the foolishness, all of the would be suitors and husbands, all of the crap that goes along with LOOKING to get married, and ONLYwake me up, when you've created what you want for me. And not only to tune them out, but to be unaffected by them.
Now, my Grandma Lucille used to always say, "Be careful what you pray for because you just might get it". I would have to say this is definitely one of those situations. I'm TRULY unaffected, much to the dismay of a few others, but I honestly believe that I feel what I'm supposed to feel, when I'm supposed to feel it. I've even tried to force feelings when they weren't there, only to be even MORE turned off. Turning down gifts and outings, and vacations, and such because I truly don't want to spend time with someone that I'm not interested in. For some reason I feel like when I do that, my soul is being drained. So I'm truly feeling and doing what's real. And I like it, it feels so natural...it might hurt some feelings, but eh...what are you gonna do?
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