"...and you are not it"

So, imagine this, you go on a first date after talking to a dude for, let's say, a week. Sooo, he asks to move in with you. Straight faced and all. Now, me being me, that little voice went off in my head with a very loud, "OH HELL NAW!" And I'm almost positive my face said the same, but my mouth just said, "huh?" That "huh" meant, I know this dude did not just ask me what I think he did...AND...he repeated it. Like with all the confidence in the world, he repeated this foolishness.

OK.... FIRST OF ALL...Sir, this is a first date! I just found out 5 mins ago you have kids. WTF, who TF I look like moving you in with me and mine?! I CAINT (yes I said CAINT, because in this instance proper grammar is not warranted). Ok so back to the foolishness, I can get behind the concept of love at first sight, we can get all googly eyed, and take our *sses to our separate domains, but this?! This was not that, and I promise I didn't see ANYTHING that made me want to move him in. I could go on and on about how ridiculous that conversation was, but there is not enough time in the day.

So I say all of that to say, fellas and ladies if you are on a first date, and your date asks to move in, even if it's a joke...finish your meal, drink the rest of your drink, and RUN, because it's folks out here starving, one does not waste alcohol, and this person is NOT IT!!!!!

"I'm The Sh*t"

I know, I know I've been slipping.  I have been so busy running around doing stuff.  Ya'll, I dropped the ball here.  I went to visit a friend and see his spoken word.  It was awesome!  Of course there were all types of folks there.  Everybody, for the most part, was cool.  All good vibes right?  Well, of course you know there is always that one.

Ya'll know, the one who walks in the room like they own it?  Now, I do that sometimes, so that's cool or whatever.  Because I'm me (in my Luda voice).  BUT, this person came in with their whole nose turned up at everybody else presenting. Uhh ok.  Now, if you're going to do all that just make sure your sh*t is the sh*t.  So when this person finally goes up to speak it's like, ok this is about to be good right?

Wrong.  

That's when I started thinking about this here entry.  How can I put this?  First of all... (yup, I said it, here we go) don't come into a place like you the sh*t, turn up your nose to other folks sh*t, and then get up on the stage and don't have your sh*t in order.  What type of sh*t is that?!  Listen, I'm all for it if you the sh*t, you can act like it, no problem.  Like, if Queen B walks in the room with her nose turned up, we get it.  She gets on stage, and if you like her or naw, you like her.  Her sh*t was the sh*t.

We got up and left, because we just did not have time for that sh*t there. Ya'll probably like, well damn Ms. Walker.  I know, I'm a work in progress.  We all are.  But if your sh*t is not the sh*t, just be humble.  Nobody has time for the bullsh*t (insert eye roll)  That's it, that's all.

"Sticky"

Hey ya'll!  It's the new year.  I know, I've been slippin' again.  I promise, I'm working on it...I'm still a work in progress.  But for today's blog, I wanted to talk about sticky kids.  If you don't have kids, or like them, or have not been around them, then you probably have a big question mark on your face.  Sooo, let me explain.

For those who have kids- ya'll know what this is, don't act like you don't.

First of all, anyone with kids will tell you somehow everything they touch is sticky.  Like, for no reason.  They can be holding a bottle of water, and it's sticky.  They could have just washed their hands, and still, they are sticky.  Kids just have some type of built in sticky dispenser.  Like little Spider people.  Between that and the damn slime, I promise, I'm so over it.

Now, I say all this to say, for the new year, my boyfriend (so weird to say at 25+ mind your business) washed my car.  I mean, had Sasha looking right.  Cleaned out the inside and everything.  Even the backseat ya'll!  Anybody with kids knows, kids and cars don't really mix. I say this because, somehow, on top of the sticky, they manage to have fries in the backseat crevasse.  Like in places fries should never be, ever.  I swear, if you did a random search of anybody's car who has had kids in the backseat in the last 10 years, you will find an old fry.  I don't care if you don't eat fast food.   At some point they did, and we all know what the White House dinner looks like (still petty).

Anyway, back to my newly washed car... So, of course, now my children have to get in. Sasha stayed stick-free for all of 2 hours (memories). The kids hopped in the backseat with their old fries and spider stick and it was over. (Like really ya'll?!)  The car seat is stuck to the leather, there's a lollipop stick in the side door, a sticky pencil on the floor, and an old fry in the cupholder. Oh, and some colorful goop in the floormats. HOW?!

Mista mista

So today I took my babies to the movies.  We made a quick stop at the store to get some candy.  On my way in a lady was standing outside asking for help.  I politely declined.  Then, on my way out, I'm walking to the car with my children, and some man comes walking up like he's following us (strike 1).  So I stop, make sure my little people are good, and look him dead in his face.  Mind you, at this point I'm all the way irritated.  Ya'll, I can be the nicest person, or the meanest person.  It'all depends.

He looks at me, with a University of Michigan sweatshirt on (that's 2 strikes), and says, "Excuse me, do you have 50 cents you can spare?"  In a span of 2 sec my inner voice said, wtf are you gonna get with 50 cents?  Who asks for 50 cents? Why you running up on me like we know each other?"

I think my whole face just flashed a WTF.   

I responded, "no," and got in the car all the way pissed off.  Now, ya'll are probably wondering why I was so upset.  Here's the thing...I don't know this man's story.  Maybe he needed change for the bus, or he was short for something else, I don't know.  If that was the case he should have said so.  What I do know though, is that he saw a woman, walking with 2 children that look just like her, and his grown, from what I can tell, able bodied self just asked her for 50 cents.  I should probably mention there was another grown man standing right outside the door when I came out.  He walked right past him and didn't say a word.  Not only that, but this grown, able bodied man had on a U of M sweatshirt, and my team, Michigan State University, just lost the damn game (yeah, I'm mad).  So no, I do not have 50 cents for you sir.

Ya'll, I had to have a talk with my son. I'm like, yo, when you get grown, don't you ever go asking a woman with children for money.  Or any woman for that matter.  Who is raising these men?!  I am just done for the day.

"Nothing Even Matters..."

Hey y'all, so I had my whole topic for today all mapped out in my head. 

Then I got an email.  A stupid one.  

So I figured (being the petty that I am) I'd address it here.  Anyways, I won't say any names, but this person who sent said email would get on my nerve if I had one left.  With all this being said...you ever stop f*ckn with someone and they keep trying to have these unnecessary conversations with you like y'all still cool?  First of all, I don't like you.  Like Big Sean said, "I Don't F*ck With You."

 Listen, my level of petty is so much so, that when said person opens their mouth to speak, there is literal throw up in the back of my throat (ugh, eye roll).  That's an improvement from mental funerals (at least I think so).  Not all folks on my IDFWU list fall into this category. Some just go on the eternal block list (it's just not enough time in the day).  A select few though, make it here.  Congratulations, welcome to the hole!  Come on down and claim your prize!!!

The grand prize is NOTHING.  

It's just like when you were little and you got that speech before you went into the store with your Mom (Don't touch NOTHING, don't look at NOTHING, don't break NOTHING, and don't ask for NOTHING).  I don't wanna discuss NOTHING, if you see me, don't say NOTHING, don't bring me NOTHING, don't ask me for NOTHING, ect, (you get the point-NOTHING). 

Y'all, I'm halfway through the year, so I'm 50% less petty than I was in petty17 (See?  Progress).  I've reached the conclusion, if I'm still petty by December then y'all just stuck with me as is.  Sorry, not sorry.   And those of you who question it will get, guess what?  NOTHING (TADA!!!) But, naw really, back to my "regularly" scheduled program.

"Voices in My Head"

Yesterday we had some type of drill at my job.  The highlight of it all was that is was 108 degrees outside, and two trees in the blacktop parking lot (but it's not snow and so I won't complain).  We just had to stand still for a little bit and try not to sweat to death.  Eventually, we were let back in the building (yay).  So myself and my co-worker had this "great idea."  Instead of taking the elevator, we decided to walk up the steps.

Now, my inner voice is younger than my real life self.  I swear she's like a horrible "hype man," if you will.  She's about 21ish.  And she said, "yeah girl, go ahead, get a quick workout in, walk up those steps!"  Mind you, we work on the 6th floor.  OMG WHY?!  By the time I got to the 5th floor, real life me couldn't half breath.  Why?  Oh, because real life me has lungs and asthma.  So there is that.

Sooo...here it is, the next day. Uhh, real life me woke up this morning cussing inner voice me out.  Physical activities at my age ("25") is like going out for a drink, getting drunk, and then re-remembering the next day why you said you'd never drink again.  As you're praying to the porcelain god, the first thing that goes through your mind is, "WTF was I thinking?!"  Ya'll, every muscle in my body was screaming.  Inner voice did not tell real me to stretch! (She's such a B).  Her 21ish self doesn't do things like that.  She just motivates, she doesn't ask questions or remember anything from the past.  It never fails, soon as she gets going, I spend a week in recovery (limping around...throwing up...whatever)... I gotta make better choices (sigh for soreness).

"Upgrade"

The other night I called myself trying to be productive.  I opened my "fancy" laptop, went to pull up my website, and got an error message.  (Eye roll)  So my inner voice thinks, "ok, no problem,  i just have to update the program..." Click the download button...wait...wait... and get another error message.   It basically said, "B*tch, your computer is too old for this program, do not pass go, do not collect anything."  Ya'll,  I was soo irritated i shut everything down and went to bed.

The next day, I see a screen shot of the old AOL log in screen. You know the one with the little yellow man that looks like hes running, but he's really not moving, they just added lines?  OMG the horror! My grown 25ish year old self  (mind your business) would not stand for it.  If I had to wait for old AOL log in speeds, ya'll, the whole house would be shut down!  I might go turn out the street lights behind that foolishness.  All of them!  EVERYBODY is going to bed.  Just the noise of it was ingrained in my head (cringe).  Kinda like that MF Rooster.

Anyway, 48 hours later...here I am.  Back on my "fancy" computer.  Still mildly irritated.   But...it works and I can still type to ya'll,  so I guess.   It's not old AOL at least.  Old self was soo excited about that little yellow man doing nothing.  I swear, when we know better...

"So Fresh n So Clean?"

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Today we are going to talk about cologne and perfume.  Now, mind you, for some reason, I still have mommy nose.  That basically means every smell is amplified.  (So if a cup had milk in it yesterday, and it's empty now, I can smell sour milk from across the room)  It's a terrible mom power.  So maybe it's me.... but I doubt it!

The other day this guy got off the elevator and when I stepped on, the whole thing smelled like him.  If it was a nice subtle cologne cool, but this was LOUD!  Like he took a bath in it, used it for aftershave, and then sprayed his whole life away.  Dude spray 1 maybe 2xs and walk through, that's it!

Old women do this stuff too.  I swear after a certain age they all start walking around smelling White Diamond and hard candy. OMG please Etta Mae take it off!  For the sake of everybody involved!  Ya'll know that old lady smell get on your clothes and stay for a good week.  DO NOT hug me, I promise I don't wanna smell like Elizabeth Taylor. EVER!!!  (Ionno her life)

This morning a guy sat next to me on the train.  Ya'll, he had on soooooo much cologne.  But not only that, his breath stank.  So everytime he opened his mouth that imaginary stench just keep smacking me in my face (like Altoids wouldn't fix this)!  I swear I kept trynna hold my breath, but I have asthma, so yeah...  FAIL!  So Charles, (because only somebody with an old name like Charles would wear this cologne) kept moving around.  OMG, everytime he moved, a whiff of this cologne just suffocated the air.  I'm smelling like vanilla and he smelling like Cheeto breath Charles and mothballs.  By the time I got off the train I had a whole headache.  Welcome to Thursday (eye roll here).

"You Gots to Chill"

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Imagine you're sitting in your car for a good 45 minutes, stuck in traffic that is not moving.  You get a phone call from your child's daycare with some little girl on the other line asking you if you "got that text message we sent?"  When you reply with a "no," she goes in with all attitude about how, "the daycare closed at 5pm today, and your child is still here, so somebody needs to pick her up."  It's 5:40pm mind you.  And mind you they close at 6:30pm.

YA'LL... I don't know WTF these daycares be on.  They want to be paid full price when they are closed, then pick and choose how long they stay open.  You a few minutes late? They hitting you up like you been squatting in a luxury apartment and ain't paid rent in 6 months.  Huh?!  Use my late fee for that free day you got paid and didn't do anything.  OMG, I caint!  I know anybody who has children and actually pays the daycare bill has been there (#pettyeyeroll).

I got so irritated at one point, the thought had crossed my mind to start my own damn daycare.  The money is good, apparently the hours can be whatever I feel that day.  All I have to do is undercut the competition a little bit and...BAM!!!  The kids will come.  There are always kids.  Only one problem though in this whole fantasy of foolery...I'd have to watch other people's children.  That'll be a "no" for me.  And that was it...dream dead.  Gone and forgotten.

Text Me...

Hey ya'll, I'm back again.  I know I've been slipping...Well, here I am.  So, the other day, I had a conversation about unsending text messages. Do you know how much better things would be if one could unsend a text?!  Especially if you sent a text to the wrong person?  

Fellas can you image if you accidentally sent your unwanted d*ck pic to your mom?!  Granted, she's seen it, nothing new there, but could she have gone her whole day without you sending it to her in a text? And could she have gone without the inappropriate comment to match? You know, the one that was meant for some trash girl you call yourself "dating."  YES! (And yes I used the word trash, because when it comes to our children no one is good enough, they are all trash until further notice).   If you had an unsend option, problem avoided.  Mom doesn't get the text, trash does, and all is well.

We need to go back to the AOL days. The days where if you sent a messed up email to "all," you had 2 sec to get to that outbox and unsend. We "all" didn't need to have our mailbox filled with your foolishness today.  We "all" don't want your text either.  Now I'm getting responses from folks I don't know questioning me about who I am.  OMG delete (rolls eyes).  Hit the unsend, and thank you in advance for your reconsideration! Oh, wait, that's not an available option.  Maybe it's available on that $1k phone?  ...Or naw?