Family Dollar for Your Thoughts

Since I've moved to New York, I've become part of the tired, huddled (and dirt po'!) masses. In order to save money, I've started to do things my uptight, WASP-ish self would never have even thought of in the past (no, not handjobs by the Key Foods). One such example? I purchase certain cleaning/household products at the Family Dollar (SHUT UP! These is desperate times, and I always bring hand sanitizer)

The cashier at said Family Dollar is this brilliant Jamaican woman who is always pouring forth verbal pearls of wisdom. Seriously, I love this bitch. This evening's dialogue with the security guard was priceless. PRICELESS -

Security Guard: Did you see Lady GaGa at the VMAs last night?

Cashier: Oh, I like Lady Gaga. She remind me of a young Madonna. Madonna in the 80's was sort of crazy-like too. I think Lady Gaga is entertainin' in all her get-ups.

Security Guard: Did you see her with all the feathers? Around her head? Like a lion (sidenote - what the hell lion has this bitch seen that has feathers on it's head?) or a muppet or some shit.

Cashier: Oh, leave Lady Gaga alone. She good. She entertainin'. I tell ya who I don't like - Kanye! He crazy, gettin' up there and takin' away that little white girl's moment. I tell ya, since his mother die, he been actin' the fool - runnin' 'round with that trashy bald ho, drinkin', and carryin' on, flappin' his jaw. Kanye needs help, I tell ya. Shit. Needs counselin', that one does.

They need to take this act on the road! People would pay to see this! It was all I could do not to burst into applause and throw roses. I wanted to wait until the store closed, stand outside, and ask for her autograph.

I think she needs to be Kanye's counselor! She'd get that dumbass straightened out before you could say "clean up in Aisle 4". Shoot.

Be Kind, Rewind

I realize that I haven't written in a while. After the holidays, I sort of lost my mojo, and it was difficult for me to write anything here. I'd sit down with a funny anecdote, and just couldn't muster up the energy or enthusiasm to write about it. Tired? Sure. Post-holiday blues? Maybe a little. Just didn't feel like it? You know it.

I guess I just felt like your run of the mill, run-down, stressed out, 'what the hell am I doing with my life' New Yorker. And I've only been here six months. Not bad, huh?

So, for those of you who have commented that you've missed my quirky musings (yeah, I just said quirky musings), I'll use this post to recap what's happened in the past month that needs commentary, whether in my life or in the world --

* Mumma got her job back. She was laid off right before Christmas, and then they asked her to come back with a pay cut. She wrote them a letter using the word "insulting", which is something my naive little mother would never normally do. Needless to say, I think they were shocked that she had the balls to tell them to basically go to hell, and they begged her to come back. She did so, but with the same pay, benefits, etc. that she had before the lay off. Go Mum (even though her boss is an asshole who thinks a smart woman is one who doesn't fight when you club her on the head and try to drag her back to your cave...)
* I almost came to blows with a woman in Starbucks about two weeks ago. I haven't been inside one since. This bitch cut me in line and then proceeded to degrade the baristas. We both ended up at that little table with the milk, sugar, etc. and she kept reaching over me to get different canisters which all happened to be empty. She'd shout "gimme that one!" to me and I'd do it. After this happened three times I looked her and yelled, "Bitch, I don't work here!" and pushed past her, out the door. I was so mad my face burned, but proud that I said something. I felt like a strong black woman. The next day I saw her in the deli in my office building and almost shit my pants.
* I had my first dinner party in New York. About ten guests -- wine, appetizers, main course, dessert. It was fabulous, and Desperate Housewives themed. I plan on having more in the future.
* I am poor, and I really don't do well with poor. I will admit that this is a large cause of my stress. I am trying to find a second job, but in this economy, few places are taking on MORE staff (and not many are enthralled with someone who could only work two days a week). I'll get by, I always do -- but if anyone knows of anything in Manhattan/outer-boroughs, let me know.
* I have not had a cigarette in 8 days. I don't drink much anyone. I get up every morning at 5:45 and go to the gym, where I run 4 miles. I haven't had sex since August (...getting groped on the subway counts, right?). Take thee to a nunnery? Yeah...just call me Sister Mary Matthew. And now go write Sister Act 3 so I can star in it.
* A woman in this country, who already had six kids, just shot out eight more in one sitting. Or squatting. Or good sneeze. Or whatever. Her vagina must now resemble a slip n' slide. I think she will go home and start sucking up the furniture when she sits down with her massive, gaping vagina. She may even suck up some of the children. She'll have to feed them to her very hungry coochie, much like that venus fly-thing in Little Shop of Horrors. 14 kids? That is all sorts of wrong. Just like that religious bitch on TLC that stars in "17 & Counting..." or whatever. That crazy needs to STOP HAVING KIDS. And get her hair cut. She looks like she belongs in a very special episode of The Facts of Life.
* I have read "Mayor of Castro Street" and "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" in the past month. Both are terrific books and I suggest them to everyone. I am currently reading "Julie & Julia". Also, everyone should see the movie "Milk" if they have not yet seen it yet. Fantastic.
* I hate doing my taxes. I don't understand them. I just want money back. Someone give me money. I am poor. I have already stated this, but it just needs to reiterated. But I guess most of us are going through this right now. Misery loves company? Sure!

* I finally saw My Best Friend's Girl, the film I worked on last summer. It was cool to see my name in the credits of a film, even if said film was about as a funny as a hit and run accident.

Yep. I think that'll do for now.

And please know, that despite this rant and some of the stressors that have arisen, I love my life in New York and consider myself to be very lucky -- things could be much worse, and I'm aware of that.

"...anything with a pulse & facial hair"

As many know, I adore Desperate Housewives. This is a hysterical clip from this week's show. I had the rewind the part that starts at the 1:40 mark a few times. Eva Longoria's laugh makes me pee.

But I Can See Your Lips Moving...

Quote of the week:

While trying to maneuver the sewing machine back into a closet --

Mom:  Oh gosh, you have to be a ventriloquist to be able to get that back in.

Matt: (pause) Does it really matter if my lips move?

Mom: (laughs)  That was the wrong word, wasn't it?

Matt:  I think you meant contortionist.  

Mom laughs harder

A Nutcracking Era Comes to an End

There are few traditions in the Smith family that have lasted as long as the Smith boys getting a nutcracker each Christmas from their grandparents.  

Since 1991, each holiday season has brought a new nutcracker as part of our gifts.  This year, my grandmother informed us, would be last of the tradition.  My brother and I now have 18 nutcrackers in our possession.  And we've gotten to the point where they're much like those who don't RSVP to a dinner party.  They're welcome, but you're not quite sure where you're going to put them.  

I feel that because my grandfather died in September, Nene (my grandmother) doesn't feel right continuing it without him.  

My brother has a shelf in his room where he keeps the array of nutcrackers he's gotten over the years, and on Christmas Eve I went into his room to view them.  All of his nutcrackers are manly -- fisherman carrying poles and fish; builders, carrying tools and wood; mighty kings looking dignified and dapper.  

I then took a look at my nutcrackers (although mine are scattered throughout the house, the barn, and New York).  Many of mine are sporting purple, sequins, and bejeweled crowns, with well-kept hair and carrying things that look much like handbags.  In short, my nutcrackers look gayer than my brothers.

Although I only came out to Nene during Thanksgiving 2006, I have a feeling she knew well before then.

The proof is in the pudding.  Or, in the nutcracker.  

Happy Holidays!

From all of us here at "Such Pretty Eyelashes" (OK, so from me), Happy Holidays!  Hoping everyone had a Merry Christmakkuh and wishing everyone a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year!  Hopefully this year will bring more posts (along with less smoking, more working out, and being nicer to people...but not for the sake of a good blog entry).  Thanks for reading!

Got "Milk"?

Tonight I was lucky enough to view the Paradigm screener of "Milk". It is a tremendous movie that left me in tears. If you haven't seen it, you need to. You'll be doing yourself a favor. I just had to immediately sing my praises for the film. Watch the trailer below, and please go see it!