Last week Friday, I had what I like to consider a 'Crackhead Encounter'. It was with the woman who works at the laundromat where I drop my clothes off to be washed. She has been handling my clothes for awhile now. I refer to her by her first name and make a point of being friendly even though she is usually irritated at the sight of me walking in with yet another load for her to have to clean. Plus, I put anything I want cleaned in my laundry bag, so she has had the pleasure of sorting through my not-so-clean undies. But hey, I'm paying you to do that, so who cares? I am used to her telling me my clothes won't be ready until tomorrow, when the process should take no more than a day. I just drop the clothes off, pay and keep it moving.
On this particular morning as I walk in, she starts whining about breakfast and medicine and some random shit, I cannot even make out. As I walked to the counter with my large and cumbersome laundry bag, I ask the other washerwoman what she was saying. That woman just shakes her head and says, "I don't know, she crazy." All the while, my 'friend' is still whining and going on about whatever. She refers to me by my last name and tries looking me up with someone else's first name. "That's not me". "I'm sorry, I know your last name, I just forgot your first name". She addresses me directly this time, so I can hear her plea. Here it is: "I got all this laundry to do. I ain't had nothing to eat and I didn't take my diabetes medicine today. You gotta help me out. Can you at least buy me breakfast?" Did I mention I was running late for work? This was not a good time to test me. I was not in a bad mood, but she pissed me off with her bold assumption. Yes, I have tipped her before when she has washed my clothes in the past, but that stopped when she bleached more than her share of my tops. Although it has only happened about three times, I feel that quota has been met. But you don't ask for your tip. Especially from someone whose name you cannot remember. You don't count on money that isn't yours yet. Furthermore, I don't like people trying to work me over and play on my sensibilities. She sounded like a straight up crackhead.
I told her I didn't have cash and pumped out of there, headed to work. The nerve...
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Sweat Shop
I had an irksome day today. The kind of day that makes you not start over from the beginning, but move forward to the next day. I did not want to go anywhere but home, but I decided to go to the gym instead. I joined a gym this year. In an effort to get back in shape, I decided to take a friend's recommendation and join a local health club where she's a member. It is the kind of gym with a spa, tanning salon (like I need it), juice and sandwich bar and a 'spinning theatre'. They ran a special for the new year. New members are reimbursed their joiner fee if the individual visits the health club 36 times within the first 90 days of joining. And I am behind.
In an effort to make sure I get the most out of this deal, I have been visiting the gym, swiping my card, going to the locker room and coming back out in about 10 minutes. You heard me, no exercise, just a quick locker room visit. Today the club had some special celebration going on; I couldn't dip out as usual. So I decided to, for the first time ever, sit in the sauna. And I liked it! First of all, when I entered the hot as Hades room, there was another woman in there lying down. So I was trying my best not to seem like I was cruisin' for chicks. When she left, I felt more comfortable. Upon entering, I almost immediately started sweating all over. My nose opened up and I felt really relaxed. The heat and steam melting my stress away. Plus, afterwards my skin looked great. I will be doing this again. With 15 visits down, this is my new way of getting closer to that gift certificate. I still plan on exercising, but for days when I don't feel like it, it's good to know I have options.
In an effort to make sure I get the most out of this deal, I have been visiting the gym, swiping my card, going to the locker room and coming back out in about 10 minutes. You heard me, no exercise, just a quick locker room visit. Today the club had some special celebration going on; I couldn't dip out as usual. So I decided to, for the first time ever, sit in the sauna. And I liked it! First of all, when I entered the hot as Hades room, there was another woman in there lying down. So I was trying my best not to seem like I was cruisin' for chicks. When she left, I felt more comfortable. Upon entering, I almost immediately started sweating all over. My nose opened up and I felt really relaxed. The heat and steam melting my stress away. Plus, afterwards my skin looked great. I will be doing this again. With 15 visits down, this is my new way of getting closer to that gift certificate. I still plan on exercising, but for days when I don't feel like it, it's good to know I have options.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
A Mega Million Reasons to Gamble
The Mega Millions pot rolled over to $363M and today some co-workers decided to play. I was faced with a bit of a dilemma. A dilemma I feel every time the question comes up, 'you wanna play?'. I am not a gambler. I am a shopper. I like experiences, restaurants, traveling and such. I have a difficult time giving my hard, or soft (however you choose to look at it) earned money to someone without having something to show for it. But, with that said, I also don't want to be left behind while my co-workers leave for greener pastures and an early retirement. So, I hand over the $5 that I could be using towards something more responsible, and secretly cross my fingers. Like the commercials say, you have to play to win.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Loose Change
Today I took the Red Line from Roosevelt to the 69th Street station. I have only taken the train sporadically within the past year. So there are some things I miss by taking a quick bus trip to my car, which I park in a nice neighborhood. One of those things is uncomfortable homeless encounters. A couple of weeks ago, I saw the new Robert DeNiro film, Being Flynn. It chronicles the homeless experience in a way I have never seen on film before. It is very raw and honest. Having recently viewed the film, combined with my natural empathetic personality, today's ride put something on my mind.
There was the usual car-hopping individuals selling any and everything. Although it's easy to ignore a sells pitch, I struggle almost every time from a moral standpoint, when I hear that pleading, whining unabashed cry for help. Especially when the person asks only for food. Today a man came to the car I was riding in and asked if we had food or water. My heart sank. Just as it is now while typing this. With no immediate response received, he asked for just 'a little money to get something to eat'. Finally a man gave him some loose change from his pocket and a woman gave him what appeared to be a leftover sandwich from her bag. The homeless man was genuinely appreciative. He thanked each. Then what happened next, broke my heart further. He proceeded to stand there, open the Italian beef sandwich and pull the meat out and eat it with vigor. He was indeed hungry. He kept eating and finally moved on to the next car.
I had no cash money, only pennies and random coins that were spread throughout the bottom of my oversized purse, which would have been a pain rounding up. I had no food. The bottle of water I had in my purse, I had already opened it and drank out of it. I have been battling a sinus infection. I would hate to give him my heebee jeebees. The man has no insurance, so I know that would be a pain. Yes, those were my lame-ass excuses. So I offered nothing. I felt totally helpless and guilty. What I hate and love, is that those feelings never seem to go away. I hate it, because guilt sucks. I love it, because hopefully that gut feeling will keep my grateful. It will keep my desire to help others fresh. It will remind me to consciously thank God for my life. As I sit here and type this post, I am full. Maybe a bit stuffed. I overindulged on some hand cut, homemade fries that I made. They were good, but did I need those last five? The man who gave loose change turned around in his seat for whatever reason. We locked eyes. I do not know what he was thinking; but the look he gave me was the kind of blank stare that makes me search my soul.
There was the usual car-hopping individuals selling any and everything. Although it's easy to ignore a sells pitch, I struggle almost every time from a moral standpoint, when I hear that pleading, whining unabashed cry for help. Especially when the person asks only for food. Today a man came to the car I was riding in and asked if we had food or water. My heart sank. Just as it is now while typing this. With no immediate response received, he asked for just 'a little money to get something to eat'. Finally a man gave him some loose change from his pocket and a woman gave him what appeared to be a leftover sandwich from her bag. The homeless man was genuinely appreciative. He thanked each. Then what happened next, broke my heart further. He proceeded to stand there, open the Italian beef sandwich and pull the meat out and eat it with vigor. He was indeed hungry. He kept eating and finally moved on to the next car.
I had no cash money, only pennies and random coins that were spread throughout the bottom of my oversized purse, which would have been a pain rounding up. I had no food. The bottle of water I had in my purse, I had already opened it and drank out of it. I have been battling a sinus infection. I would hate to give him my heebee jeebees. The man has no insurance, so I know that would be a pain. Yes, those were my lame-ass excuses. So I offered nothing. I felt totally helpless and guilty. What I hate and love, is that those feelings never seem to go away. I hate it, because guilt sucks. I love it, because hopefully that gut feeling will keep my grateful. It will keep my desire to help others fresh. It will remind me to consciously thank God for my life. As I sit here and type this post, I am full. Maybe a bit stuffed. I overindulged on some hand cut, homemade fries that I made. They were good, but did I need those last five? The man who gave loose change turned around in his seat for whatever reason. We locked eyes. I do not know what he was thinking; but the look he gave me was the kind of blank stare that makes me search my soul.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
She's Back!
On Thursday, when my good friend dropped me at my car by my dad's house, after post-work cocktails and an art opening at Zhou B's, I noticed a familiar-looking woman getting out of the car we pulled up next to. When the woman's and my eyes met, I realized it was none other than my very own mother! She had driven from Tampa with her sister, my aunt, all day long and had just arrived to stay at my dad's house. Although I had just spoken to her and she said the words, 'I'm home', I still didn't expect to see her that very night. I figured our ships would cross and I would make a point to see her the next day.
I squealed and jumped out the car to give her a hug. You see, my mom and I are close. Before she moved to the Netherlands and then subsequently to Tampa, FL after retiring, she was my ace. We did so much together. My free days were her free days. We would call each other at the crack of dawn and see what we were going to do that day. Whether it was the flea market, grocery store, visit family, a festival, movie or breakfast, it was usually done together before noon (we like to get out early). When my mom announced she would be moving, I was excited for her, but dreaded the idea that she would be gone. Who would be my independent movie buddy? Who would I lay around and watch 10 straight hours of The First 48 with? Who would I drive to the North Side with to do...anything? Quiet as kept, I was freaking out. So I began filling my days with activities. I stepped outside of my normal familial shell and started hanging out with new, and some old, friends. I discovered that my mother and I were not the only ones who enjoyed independent films, art, books, travel, plays or the opera. I just had never given anyone else the chance. The next thing I know, I was actually busy. Sometimes too busy to even talk to my mom. But when we did talk, usually at least 4-5 times per week, we kept each other posted on everything going on in our individual lives. We talk so much, I really don't feel like we've missed a beat, just time. That is what I cannot wait to regain with my mother, time.
My goal now is to figure out how to reincorporate her into my daily life (that's easy), and still weave my friends, who have been great substitutes, around our time (a little more challenging). It will work itself out though; I am sure of it. Just like it did when she left. I feel good about this. My mom is home.
I squealed and jumped out the car to give her a hug. You see, my mom and I are close. Before she moved to the Netherlands and then subsequently to Tampa, FL after retiring, she was my ace. We did so much together. My free days were her free days. We would call each other at the crack of dawn and see what we were going to do that day. Whether it was the flea market, grocery store, visit family, a festival, movie or breakfast, it was usually done together before noon (we like to get out early). When my mom announced she would be moving, I was excited for her, but dreaded the idea that she would be gone. Who would be my independent movie buddy? Who would I lay around and watch 10 straight hours of The First 48 with? Who would I drive to the North Side with to do...anything? Quiet as kept, I was freaking out. So I began filling my days with activities. I stepped outside of my normal familial shell and started hanging out with new, and some old, friends. I discovered that my mother and I were not the only ones who enjoyed independent films, art, books, travel, plays or the opera. I just had never given anyone else the chance. The next thing I know, I was actually busy. Sometimes too busy to even talk to my mom. But when we did talk, usually at least 4-5 times per week, we kept each other posted on everything going on in our individual lives. We talk so much, I really don't feel like we've missed a beat, just time. That is what I cannot wait to regain with my mother, time.
My goal now is to figure out how to reincorporate her into my daily life (that's easy), and still weave my friends, who have been great substitutes, around our time (a little more challenging). It will work itself out though; I am sure of it. Just like it did when she left. I feel good about this. My mom is home.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Writer's Block
I have had the hardest time writing lately, if you haven't noticed. As always, I like to write about my life, what's going on, my gripes, complaints, etc. Well lately, everything has been fine. So fine, I am not nearly as introspective or thoughtful. I have been in a cloud of sorts. So the question is, what's there to write about when life is all good?
For instance, there is one aspect of my life that has definitely evolved, grown and changed for the better, in the past month. But because it's good and sacred to me, I don't want to release any information about it (him), yet. I well up with giggles and my heart smiles when I think about my gift (I am not talking about a baby people!). But with that said, I don't want to flagrantly spread the word without consciously considering the consequences that may come with that. I don't want anyone's negative thoughts or internal battles tainting or attempting to taint what I am thoroughly enjoying. The 'gift' will be revealed at a time when our lives have been so intertwined there is no room left for denial. Until then, I will keep trying to come up with colorful commentary, or just keep quiet all together.
For instance, there is one aspect of my life that has definitely evolved, grown and changed for the better, in the past month. But because it's good and sacred to me, I don't want to release any information about it (him), yet. I well up with giggles and my heart smiles when I think about my gift (I am not talking about a baby people!). But with that said, I don't want to flagrantly spread the word without consciously considering the consequences that may come with that. I don't want anyone's negative thoughts or internal battles tainting or attempting to taint what I am thoroughly enjoying. The 'gift' will be revealed at a time when our lives have been so intertwined there is no room left for denial. Until then, I will keep trying to come up with colorful commentary, or just keep quiet all together.
MJMW MiniMix Wk1
So last week on my Facebook fan page, I started something new. I will now feature a different dj every month, every Friday, to kick off the weekend. This week, I featured Jackie Moon. Here's the mix. Enjoy!!! P.S. if you haven't already 'liked' my page, make sure to do so...there's more where this came from. Click here to get your house on!!!
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