...What Not to Eat at Work

In this new economy that has even the big spenders being a little more careful with their hard earned money more people are considering ways to stretch their dollars just a little further. One of the simplest and most practical ways to save is to pack a lunch.


Some of the novices at lunch packing literally try the sack lunch. Normally this consists of a sandwich, bag of chips, piece of fruit (or similar healthy snack) and a juice or soda. There's nothing wrong with this lunch and may in fact be quite enjoyable for some. I however, was never much of a cold cut sandwich type. Even if making a sandwich at home, my salami has to be fried before I consider it an acceptable sandwich component.


Since I do quite a bit of cooking I'd much rather bring leftovers. Since there are only 6 women at this branch of the company I work for, it seems a pretty safe bet that the wives and significant others of the men are making an attempt to help their special men have special lunch times. This explains the new break room phenomena.

I've noticed a surge of containers in the break room refrigerator that was once pretty close to a barren wasteland. Not all of the contents are readily identifiable but between the hours of 11 a.m. and 1:00 p.m. some, uh, interesting aromas have started filling the halls of my hallowed workspace.


Since I'm only 1 door down the hall from the aforementioned break room, I've contemplated posting a list of rules and regs for what is and is not an acceptable meat or vegetable to bring into a shared lunchroom environment. Just off the top of my head are some guidelines for how best to enjoy your lunch without offending the delicate sensibilities of your co-workers. How's this sample posting for a relaxing lunch for all?

Break Room Rules

1. Any kind of fish, esp. raw tuna, is strictly prohibited!
2. Only you know your tolerance to certain foods. If you have adverse reactions to known foods then please refrain for indulging in said foods during working hours.
3. The only acceptable form of cabbage in the workplace is in cole slaw. Otherwise please do not bring this vegetable onto the premises.
4. Chitterlings are NEVER an acceptable option and the smell is not masked by an entire bottle of hot sauce or Tabasco contrary to popular belief. This is especially true during the holiday season.
5. On the subject of the holiday season, alcohol and foods heavily laced with alcohol are strictly prohibited on the premises. If your religious beliefs call for you to indulge in these dishes then please consider using your vacation time to practice these beliefs in the sanctity of your own home with the ones you love.
6. Unless you will be retiring to a private office with a door, it would be poor etiquette to indulge in any food that specifically calls for sucking and slurping of bones and/or licking of fingers, i.e. pork bones or oxtails.

Due to the various ethnicities of our work environment this list merely serves as a guideline and is in no way intended to be an exhaustive list of what would be offensive and hence banned from the work place. Please use your discretion when packing lunches.

Also, please note that there are not enough microwaves to assign to each member of our team. Once you begin the heating process DO NOT wander off and leave your food unattended. Management will not be held responsible should your food be discarded as waste or tampered with. You return to eat at your own risk.

Please remove any leftover foods from the refrigerator every Friday. Each Friday the refrigerator is cleaned out by the janitorial staff and they have been instructed to discard all food stuffs with the exception of properly stored condiments. This includes Tupperware, GladWare and any other storage systems used to store your meals. Management is not responsible for storage containers left in refrigerator after 5 p.m. on Fridays.

Thank you and bon appetite!

...Why Nightlights Were Invented

I've noticed as my children have developed, they are not initially afraid of the dark. My one-year -old will wander in and out of darkened rooms with no fear whatsoever. I think it's around the age of 3 or so when they begin to have the first stirrings of fear. I have always closely monitored their television viewing and kept them in child friendly environments so I was intrigued by this sudden irrational fear. Or at the time I thought it was irrational.

One night while my boys were preparing for bed I had an epiphany.

I actually heard the words of the prayer that I taught them myself and was horrified. It left me wanting to sleep with the lights on.

Now I lay me down to sleep.

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

In Jesus' name. Amen.

(Incidentally, the new skool version of this timeless prayer has been edited to say "Angels watch me through the night until I wake in morning light", so this is much better.) My children have never been sick a day in their lives. What would cause them to "die before (they) wake"? Is someone going to sneak into their rooms and suffocate them with their pillows? What are the possibilities of them choking to death in their sleep on their own saliva?

This got my mind to really going and I discovered that even the nursery rhymes, fairy tales and fables we ourselves learned as children and are passing down to our children are just full of perils.

1. Hansel and Gretel = Cannibalism
2. Georgie Porgie = Lack of commitment from men
3. Jack and Jill = Dangerous hobbies and serious bodily injury
4. Little Jack Horner = Poor home training and/or poverty (Kid is eating with his hands!)
5. Rapunzel = Kidnap and hostage situation

Even our lullabies are cause for concern. Rock-a-bye Baby (In the Treetop). Who in the hell is putting a baby in the top of a tree waiting on a strong breeze to come and send baby tumbling to certain death? Personally, I never sang this one to my boys but instead sang Aretha Franklin's Say a Little Prayer for You. Don't laugh. Think about the lyrics to that one. What more loving song could sing to your little one?

Instead of grooming our children to be serial killers why not just stick with The Lord's Prayer and some old 100's out of a Baptist Hymnal like In the Garden and It is Well (With my Soul)?

Now that I've really pondered these childhood ditties, I'm off to say my prayers (and plug in a nightlight).

...About the Low Standards of Black Women

Well this is actually news to me. I was recently informed by one of my sisters of the Caucasian persuasion that when it comes to choosing a life mate Black women set their standards entirely too low. According to this sister we put up with any and everything for the sake of having a man that we can call our own. According to her this is why we have so much infidelity and such disrespect in general from our men.

Now, I don't know what sisters she's been hanging out with but this one doesn't play that. I'm happily married to a black man that I have borne 3 children for. Not only does he treat me like the queen that I am but he's raising our sons to give me the same respect that he does and more. Had I allowed myself to be treated any kind of way in the beginning of my 12 year relationship, then I'm sure my life would be very different now.

It's just human nature that people in general, not just men and not just Blacks, will treat you the way you train them to treat you. In the past when I've discussed my husband's habits with previous girlfriends, the conversation didn't last very long because we are actually discussing 2 different people; who he is to me and who he was to her.

As women if we carry ourselves like goddesses, we'll be treated accordingly. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we should be arrogant or conceited. What I'm saying is take care of you. Be responsible for your own finances, feelings and well being. Don't look for a man to rescue you from yourself. I never needed a man to complete me but I did choose a mate that compliments me. There is a difference.

Men don't use that last paragraph as an excuse to lay up on your behinds and let a woman who clearly has her act together take care of you. She doesn't need to adopt a child, she's needs a man. If you're gonna be a liability, then you're gonna be on the first thing smoking outta there. In other words if you don't "man up" you'll find a pair of 3 inch heels in the back of your neck. A strong woman needs a strong man and if you don't bring it, you'll get your hat and your ass brought to you!

So to all you weak sisters out there that are giving us a bad name, backbones are on sale at Walmart BOGO Free. Get some!

...About my near road rage episode.

Hello all, I've just got to tell you about my ride in to work. I normally leave at 6:15 a.m. but I guess I got the Friday the 13th heebie jeebies because I just could not get it in gear. I stumbled out around 6:38 a.m. and missed my usual calm, if not downright cheery, commuters.

Instead, I was thrown into the mix with a bunch of rude, obnoxious heathens that drive like they retrieved their licenses from a Cracker Jack box and just glued on or better yet drew in a self portrait. I even looked into some of the vehicles to ascertain the demeanors of the motorists and came to the conclusion that most of these people really meant not harm. They were like me, simply late for work. A few must have been on that last tardy warning and could see the pink slip looming before their very eyes. Harried looks akin to panic attacks were plastered to their faces like death masks.

What really got my dander up, however, was when this monster mother of all SUV's attempted to damn near run me off the road because I would not let him in. Now mind you he was just entering the Beltway and I had already given the right of way to the car that proceeded him. Did this driver think the sole purpose of me getting out of bed and being on the roadway at this time of morning was to drive to this entrance ramp and put my car in park so that he and the rest of the morning traffic could have lone custody of the right hand lane????!!!! I prayed the car in front of me would not come to a sudden stop because if it had we would become instant carpoolers. The driver of this behomoth actually sped up as if to let me further know he intended to get in front of me even if he had to take out the wall to do it. Maybe that was the purpose of this person buying such a vehicle. He was accustomed to being a road bully.

Yeah? Well he'd better try it with Ms. Daisy 'cause I was having none of that! I gave him the eye and he gave it right back. We're getting closer and closer to the point of no return with every second. The car in front of me may as well have been pulling me with a hitch because I was hanging on that bumper.

At the very last second I finally heard the screech of tires that let me know I had won the battle!

Lesson for big SUV's drivers?

Everybody ain't scared of ya'll.

...What popped up in my inbox

I'm not a swimmer and am in fact terrified of the water. Or thought I was until I took a trip to Jamaica and discovered water isn't so bad as long as you have a cup or two of courage (a.k.a. Jamaican Rum Punch) before hand. But in the spirit of summer this little ditty that I found in my inbox was too rich not to share with my fellow readers and friends. Here's to summer and happy swimsuit shopping.

I have just been through the annual pilgrimage of torture and humiliation known as buying a bathing suit.

When I was a child in the 1950's, the bathing suits for women with mature figures were designed for a woman with a mature figure - boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift; and they did a good job.

Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from a potato chip. The mature woman has a choice: She can either front up at Wal-Mart's Women's Plus department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus who escaped from Disney's Fantasia, or she can wander around every run-of-the-mill department store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of fluorescent rubber bands

What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room. The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material.

The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which give the added bonus that if you manage to actually lever yourself into one, you are protected from shark attacks. The reason for this is that any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff would immediately suffer whiplash.

I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place, I gasped in horror - my bosom had disappeared! Eventually, I found one bosom cowering under my left armpit. It took a while to find the other. At last, I located it--flattened--beside my seventh rib. The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is meant to wear her bosom spread across her chest like a speed bump. I realigned my speed bump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment.

The bathing suit fit all right, but, unfortunately, it only fit those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom, and sides. I looked like a lump of play dough wearing undersized cling wrap.

As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the prepubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtains.

"Oh! There you are!" she said, admiring the bathing suit. I replied that I wasn't so sure, and asked what else she had to show me.

I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of masking tape, and a floral two-piece which gave the appearance of an over sized napkin in a serviette ring.

I struggled into a pair of leopard skin bathers with ragged frill and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane pregnant with triplets and having a rough day.

I tried on a black number with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in mourning. I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear them. Finally, I found a suit that fit--a two piece affair with shorts-style bottom and a loose, blouse-type top. It was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it.

When I got home, I read the label which said: "Material may become transparent in water."

I'm determined to wear it anyway ... I'll just have to learn to do the breaststroke in the sand.

...About My Respect for the Nether Regions

Well. ladies and gentlemen, I hope your day ended on a better note than mine. I'm not exactly feeling my usual chipper self but since misery loves company, we meet again.

Let me say first and foremost that you can't believe everything that you see on T.V. The actors that have been hired by large conglomerates for the purpose of selling hemorrhoid creams and ointments should be taken out and beaten within inches of their lives. They don't begin to convey the urgency of the situation that is hemorrhoids. That slight flinch when they attempt to ease down into chairs during staff meetings at the office are pure fiction. Allow me to enlighten the ignorant and those in the know feel free to let the church say "Amen".

Again for those who don't know, a brief synopsis. Hemorrhoids are defined as a swelling or thrombosis of the veins in the rectum and can be either internal or external. Now the aforementioned affliction can be caused by one or more of the following factors :

1. Heredity (which in my case has been passed down from my maternal grandfather to my mother to me.)
2. Pregnancy (in this case I must have been a Spartan in a previous life. I didn't give birth to bouncing baby boys, I gave birth to men.)
3. Sitting, standing or walking for long periods of time. (I'm a mom, need I say more?)
4. Constipation
5. Diarrhea
6. Repeated lifting of heavy items.

Since we're all on the same page now let me just skip on to the purpose of this post. I'm so sick of actors living in Neverland. I'm going to audition for a spot on a hemorrhoid commercial because clearly the participants currently being cast have NEVER suffered this indignity.

I would look straight into the camera and let America know that when your ass is on fire you need relief fast! This is no time for a meeting with shareholders or some hard bleachers at little Timmy's soccer game. Tell your boss that your butt hole has been turned inside out and some demon from hell is holding a blowtorch to the veins that have been exposed as a result. Tell little Timmy's assistant coach that he's on deck because you have got to go soak your ENTIRE behind in some hot water and Epsom salt. Bypass Walgreen's and head straight for your medicine cabinet for the prescription meds that make Preparation H look like foot lotion. Just leave the tube out and no explanation will be necessary for your spouse. You've been warned. Good luck and God bless.

Now THAT commercial pays the proper respect that is due this solemn occasion. With that being said, my medicine cabinet awaits.

...About People Who Vote for the Wrong Reasons

I have to say how proud I am that in my lifetime an African-American male has a real chance at the White House. Not only is this man educated, articulate and charismatic but he is SEXY AS HELL. Which brings me to the point of this post.

Even though I'm not one of those people, a lot of Black Americans will vote for Senator Obama because he is black. I may be naive but I actually believe the man when he says it's time for a change and he's the man to make that change. I've sat through a couple of his speeches and tried to see through the flowery words to the heart of his message. I've watched CNN more since the democrats started the campaign for a nominee than I have in my whole life. I'm actually attempting to be an informed voter. If you're only voting because he is black, that's o.k. too. This is a historic time in the history of this great nation and that's a better reason than I've heard out there lately.

I've been made aware of the fact that there is a movement of women out there voting for Senator Obama because they find him attractive.

Wait for it.



Wait.



WHAT THE HELL KIND OF NONSENSE IS THAT???!!!

Would you actually vote someone into the most powerful office in the Western Hemisphere solely because you like the man's smile? If he wore the wrong kind of suit on the day you happened to catch a glimpse of him while channel surfing, would that negate your vote? Heaven forbid the man was single and you thought your vote would get you a date. (And incidentally Mrs. Obama has my deepest sympathies for the nonsense she will undoubtedly have to put up with) I think my husband is attractive but that doesn't mean he's fit for the oval office!

This is a classic case of doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons. If some of my enlightened sisters on here happen to come across some of these sisters please give them this blog address so that they know just how ridiculous they sound to the rest of us with good sense.

...How I came to be here

As I lay in bed the other night noodling, I got a call from my sister-in-law (SIL). I casually let her know that I was considering starting a blog. Her enthusiasm for this vague idea was so overwhelming that I was almost catapulted out of bed to start one immediately.

The operative word here ? Almost. I have 4 passions (and a few hobbies) and the first and foremost passion is sleeping. The other 3 are cooking, reading and talking. Now that I'm wide awake, I'm ready to get this party started. I've cooked, eaten and am now ready to run my mouth (or in this case my fingers).

From time to time I'll be running some things by you that I would like to hear from you on. Don't get excited just yet because this isn't one of those times. I'm simply saying hello and just letting you know a little about myself and where I'm coming from.

I'll try and keep most of my posts PG-13 or at the very least NC-17. Every now and then something will run me so hot that I may have to get a little colorful in posting. Even though I'm assuming we're all grown here, I'll keep my rants within reason. (After all, my mama may stumble in here.)

Since I'm not big on people who talk more than me, there are going to be quite a few posts that you won't be able to comment on. Well, at least not to me. But feel free to call up your girls and let them know what I said, discuss with them and then give them my address so they can get in on the fun.

I hope to make more friends than enemies and will try and keep most things light and humorous.

So get in, sit down, hold on and shut up!