I’ve strayed quite a bit from where I began. Stop sending me invitations to events you know I can attend. Don’t invite every friend on your list. Don’t invite me if we only became friends because I was doing a stint on Sorority Life. We’re not actually friends. Friends are the people I see face to face or at least talk to on the phone. Just because my virtual Minolo Blaniks helped you win 70,000 of air dollars doesn’t make us friends.

Again, I have strayed, but I think you get my point.

I understand that you are out there doing tis alone. I understand that your situation is a lot harder mine. To those women who weren’t left with any other choice, I respect you for wamaning up and doing what you have/had to do for your child. To those single ladies who chose to keep the dad out of the picture from jump, get out of my face with your simpering be ause you chose your position. To the mixed bag of divorcee single moms, it’ll get better and I’m rooting for you. To the older single moms who are done raising kids, I may ask How you did it with you kids BUT…

I did not ask for your advice or invite you to my conversation. I understand that you’ve done this all before and you did it without a man by your side, but that is not my lot in life. Don’t tell me that my husband’s input shouldn’t matter. Raising a child is a partnership when there are two of you running a houshold. If you were single from the beginning then you just don’t get it. If you chose to be single then it’s not yours to get. If you’re divorced then you know what it’s like but it still doesn’t give you the right to force your bitterness, self-doubt, and fears onto me and mine. I am in a parental partnership. There is no executive board when it comes to my child’s potty training, discipline, or diet.

Probably none of the above because society doesn’t think that muscle-clad men and women deserve ridicule no matter how ridiculous they may look.

Last week, my computer crashed. The Awesome Hubby spoke to my iMac in that computer language he knows so well and found that some rogue RSS feed I no longer subscribe to had written itself over a very important file-ETC(?). So I took it in to have it checked out at the Genius Bar in Stamford. My worst nightmare was having to erase my hard drive and reinstall my operating system. What do you think they told me? Yep, Murphy’s Law in full effect. The nice genius at the Genius Bar named T-Bo (I know!) told me to take my computer home, connect it via firewire to another computer, and start it up via Target Boot–that means hold down the “T” after you hear the ping–so that my computer would load as an external hard drive. Doing this would allow me to transfer the most important items and burn dvds. I, of course, crashed the laptop I was connected to in the process…

I should take this moment to tell you that over the last week I haven’t had the best luck with electronics…

So I took it home and got as much as I could. I ended up burning 9 DVDs of documents, mailboxes, wedding and family pictures, and pdfs from the web. I began the install and hubby had to come calm me down and speak to the computer about freaking me out with words like “journaled” and “corrupted” and made the install start. Everything was going well until the second disc was called upon. Thinking back on it now, I think it might have been best if Hubby had put in the second disc as there must have been something wrong with my electrons that day. The second disc failed, reading “56 minutes remaining”.

I took it back to the Genius Bar in the Stamford Apple Store. I was told they would give me not just a new hard drive but a bigger hard drive, an upgrade to Snow Leopard, and iLife ‘09. I was very excited when I went to get my computer the following Thursday.While at the Apple Store, Hubby and I decided it was the opportune time for him to get his new iPhone. We wanted to add a line to my pre-existing account. The man that handled the transaction instead upgraded my iPhone. He tried to fix it by returning the new iPhone and starting over. It worked. My husband got his phone and new number. So why couldn’t I get service all of a sudden? He had deactivated my phone. So down to the other end of the mall we go to AT&T only to find out that, since I have a first generation iPhone, they can’t activate my phone in the store. I have to connect to iTunes. (And to that AT&T guy, eat more fiber. You’re too young to be crotchety.)

So all in all I had to make two trips to AT&T, waste 20 more minutes with a screaming 2-year-old and hungry husband, and still had to call customer service when I got home because nothing was resolved in the store. And when I did contact AT&T I found out that Carmine the Apple guy didn’t reverse the upgrade or the upgrade fee, and had extended my contract another two years. Infuriating doesn’t come close to describing how I felt about Carmine’s “one little mistake.”

Well at least I had my computer home. Guess who got duped? Ding-a-ling! It was me. My newly refurbished, super-pimped-out iMac was just as lame as it was before. They didn’t do any of the upgrades! Good thing I convinced Hubby to buy a family pack of Snow Leopard instead of a single user.

I now have a different opinion of the big Apple and it’s retail store. If I had just done everything online, there would have been much less hassle. We could have grabbed the computer and picked up an already activated iPhone for Hubby. If you’re going to have people upgrade or add a line in store, provide a kiosk or computer where we can make the mistakes ourselves.

why wasn’t the mother correcting her own child and what kind of mother is she for letting this loontic touch her child even once.

You may need to read the article to get where I’m coming from.

In case you didn’t know, the law states that a woman can not be fired while on maternity leave. It states this because it is illegal to fire someone for being pregnant, and being pregnant (and breastfeeding) is a woman issue. Because it is a woman issue, it is deemed sexist to fire her. Now I don’t believe in sexism but I think the law is stupid. Wait…I think the interpretation of the law is stupid. If a man had to be off work because of something to do with his prostate he wouldn’t be fired. If he were, it wouldn’t be seen as sexist.

Do I think Acosta Taco is wrong? Yes. Absolutely. Did they get what they deserved? Yes. Should this woman’s job be protected while she is on maternity leave and doing everything she is suppose to do for her job AND her child? You damn right! I just don’t agree with the interpretation of the law.

So with KW being medicated about 5 times a day we thought, “Why not send me in for 9 shots of local anesthetic, three tooth extractions, and surgical removal of an empacted wisdom tooth followed by a haze of pain accompanied with percoset and amoxicillin?” Why indeed. It’s all because, and  I can’t believe I’m admitting this, I’m getting braces. Am I crazy for getting braces 8 months before the wedding? YES! Am I going to do it anyway? YES! It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time a my orthodontist (Peter Maro, formerly of the New York Rangers)  promises that my smile will vastly improve by April. So on Tuesday I am off to have spacers put in even thought the pain of the surgery hasn’t completely subsided (Yay!). wish me luck.

Dress worn by Joy Nash in latest Fat Rant: $149

Shops like Torrid, Lane Bryant, and Kiyonna have outrageous prices. Manolo for the Big Girl offers up discounts at just such places. Even with these discounts, I’d still pay $100 for 2 dresses (though I did get 4 dresses from SizeAppeal for about $20 each w/ a code from Manolo). Maybe I just don’t understand fashion enough to pay this kind of money. I’m just a girl who was raised on WalMart, Target, and Payless Shoes, so excuse me if my country bumpkin ways aren’t savvy enough to get it. Even Target is now charging higher prices (storewide) so it’s hard to find the best deals there as well. I guess I’m just cheap.

I also never learned to walk in high heels. I wish I has because the dresses I do own need cute shoes. I buy cute shoes but I can’t go anywhere in them because I walk three feet and have to sit down. I want to learn before the wedding because I want to be super sexy at the rehearsal and super-duper sexy on the honeymoon.

Maddy/Tiana

Disney’s new black princess: So Disney has gone back to 2-D, hand drawn annimation and decided that (after dacades) they would try their hand at a black American princess. “Maddy” would be the princess in The Frog Princess. They thought that it would be okay to make her somewhat like the other princesses. She would be a servant, not to a family member, but to an upity, spoiled white woman. She would have her prince/hero, but he wouldn’t be a black American prince/hero. He would be white.  A few people didn’t like that so much. I can see why. Maddy (though my grandmother was Mattie) can be perceived as demeaning by some of today’s society. It’s like calling her Mammie. Also, having a white woman as a servant turn princess is a fairy tale. Having a black woman as a servant turn princess is a fairy tale that hits a bit too close to home. And is Disney so unwilling to step outside of their comfort zone that they couldn’t have a full black animated cast. The voices don’t have to be of black people, but if Aladdin can be full Arabian and Mulan full Asian, why can’t this princess be surrounded by people of her own race? They’ve tried to redeem themselves by making her a heroine named Tiana. I still don’t know that many black girls named Tiana. I know more named Britney and Ashley than I do Tiana. Like one of the articles says, you can’t satisfy everyone.

So here I go.

KidWonder (a.k.a. Beany) has been quite the little rascal these days. He’s getting into everything and moving so fast tht I can’t turn my back on him. He could end up anywhere. But he is still the cutest little rascal ever. Today, he and  DadWonder were playing under his favorite blanket (what use to be my favorite) and I pretended I couldn’t find him. I could see his little head turn toward my voice under the blanket and then he threw his arm up to reveal himself and a huge smile, as if to say, “Here I am, Mommy. See.” That made my day.

I’ve also been watching music videos on launch.yahoo.com and both Mariah Carey and Janet Jackson have made their “comebacks.” Is is just me, or did they both look better when I was younger? I remember wanting to be these two women when I was a girl. I even remember a white satin jacket I had to take pictures in at the age of 4 and saying to only to myself that “I look just like Janet.” Well I don’t think that now. I do think I looked more like Rudy Huxtable. But that’s neither her nor there. Why is it that these so called iconic role models are changing their appearance so drastically? I thought the women I grew up viewing as beautiful would age gracefully while still making great music. No. They’ve altered their apearance, are dating/married to younger men, and there sound is vastly different. I understand that as you get older your sound will change, but Mariah use to sing and now all she does is break glass. Anyway…I’m disappointed.

On the work front…I’ve been going thru resumes and I’m not getting. When did it become okay to pass along your resume or CV without a cover letter? “My resume, if you’re interested” is not the way to introduce yourself. And how hard is it to spell check. You’re sending me a resume in Microsoft Word which I know come with a spell checker. Double check everything you send out for your career.

Ranting done. Time for Battlestar Galactica.

So I was at the gym today. I was having one of the greatest workouts of my life. But the woman on the machine next to me, I felt sorry for her. She looked only slightly larger than this woman pictured above. It really made me think about my nieces and what is considered beautiful. Here is this example of a model, someone who represents beauty in media, and she is sick. It makes my skin crawl that this woman was even allowed to be photographed. Just because God gave us one of Adam’s ribs doesn’t mean we’re meant to show it off.

While searching for this photo, I came across websites that actually tell girls how to become this thin. I’m not talking about dieting websites. I mean actual links that say, “Want to be anorexic?” How disgusting is it that there is someone out there asking young girls and women to take part in this disease. Call it what it is.

I hope that for the sake of the next generation of women, more people become appalled. I was happy to hear that, in Spain, designers and modeling agencies are turning away models who are TOO thin. Which makes sense because Spain has a tendency to produce curvy women. (Check out “Real Women Have Curves” with America Ferera)

When you see a young woman with low self esteem, what do you do? Do you remind her of her beauty? Do you tell her to ignore everybody who has something negative to say? Are you negative? Are you encouraging her to lose weight? Do you help in breaking her down? Remember that anorexia is not only a disease, it can lead girls who are never satisfied to suicide. Be supportive of her beauty, don’t point out her flaws.

As a young girl, I became very curvy and with that came the pounds. I remember having family, friends, teachers, classmates-all of them told me I was fat. How do you think that made a teenager feel? I’m glad I had common sense. I encouraged myself all the time. I had to remind myself that I was me and I was beautiful and healthy. If I hadn’t, if I had let that all go to my head and taint my self image, I would not be were I am today, HAPPY. I have a man and a son that I love so much. And they love me BECAUSE of the way that I am.

There was a time when thin was in and thick was sick. Now thick is it and thin is a sin, baby. Move on. Eat some cornbread and collard greens because if you’re a size zero you’re wasting away and, soon enough, no one will even notice you.

And all you young ladies out there remember not to let anyone bring you down. They can only hurt you if you let them. Be smart and show them that thick doesn’t mean unhealthy. Be confident. Be strong Be beautiful.

Ok. So my morning commute leaves me tainted for abut an hour at work and I don’t want to talk to anyone. The problem is that I HATE for strangers to touch me. Living in New York and using public mass transit, this is somthing that is unavoidable. This morning, I stood on the platform of the 6 train. We knew where the doors were going to stop so we stood just off to the side in a line waiting for the next train. I’m second or third in line when this woman wearing a gaudy suede coat and fake fur hat dashes right in front of me. She was so close I could see my breath making her fake fur feathers move. I tried to stay calm because I realize that I’m not in London and lines aren’t important to people in the good ole US of A. Fortunately, when the train came so many people poured out that she was pushed back and I made my way in. Unfortunately, she ended up standing right behind me. It annoyed me when she bumped me so I bumped back. Then, at my stop, she reaches out and touches my arm to get me move me out of the way with her nasty hand that had been just touching an infested NYC subway pole. I grimmaced, yelled, “EXCUSE YOU! DON’T TOUCH ME!”, nearly pushed her, and made my way off the train. She bolted by me and I had the urge to follow her just so i could keep touching her with random pieces of garbage all the way to her destination.

Example: Tom and I were going to celebrate some great news he got at work by me cooking his favorite dish, meatloaf (yes, I can cook). Well I was getting home before him so the plan was that after getting home he would have to wait no longer than a half hour before eating. So on my way in, I stopped off at the grocery store to pick up all the ingredients. It was packed but I got lucky and was second in line. I got in and began to prepare when I realized I didn’t have a backing pan. It was the only thing I forgot. I had to get back before Tom. It was hard to run, so let’s just say I rushed back to the store, grabbed a pack of disposable pans, got to the front, and saw that the lines were worse than before. I stood in the 10 items or less line where there was a new casheir waiting on all the WIC, EBT, and food stamp holders. It was excruciating. I stood there longer than it took to complete the entire first trip from entry to exit. At the front of the line, I threw the $2 at the guya and ran from the store without my change or a bag. The whole time I was on my way back I kept thinking, “Please don’t let me see him walking across the street. Please don’t let him be at home.” I turn the key in the lock after jogging up the stairs and, of course, there’s Tom taking off his coat. I collapsed on the couch and began sobbing like my dog had just died. Tom obviously freaked, as this was a first for both of us. He tried to comfort me, but nothing seemed to stop it from happening. I tried to relay my story only to release more sobs instead. It was an incrdible pregnancy milestone that I hope I will forget.

And the stupid people in New York are even worse. How many times, loud enough to drown out the sound of bustling commuters, I’ve heard over the P.A. “The number one train will make it’s last stop at 96th Street. Again, there is no number one train service beyond 96th Street. To get beyond 96th Street please transfer to the A, B, C, or E trains located just under your nose.” They’ll repeat this twelve times. That’s not the stupid part. The stupid part is the number of people walking up to attendants and other passengers asking, “So the one isn’t going above 96th Street?”, “Is the one going to stop at 96th Street?”, “Will the one still stop and 125th Street?”, “What train do I transfer to to get beyond 96th Street?” Agh! People, please. It’s not rocket science. How long do you have to live in this city (most of the questions I hear have a Bronx accent) before you realize just how to navigate your way home?

So after seeing all of this on the way home, I was tempted to do some good. I saw an old lady carrying so many bags that her cane had become more of a nuisance than an aid. I thought, “Maybe she could use some help. I know my gran walked much better holding an elbow than a cane.” But then something flashed in my head. A headline in the next morning’s Post: “Good Samaritan Slays Granny After Being Caned to Miscarraige” Let’s just say those whimsical thoughts of holding this place together, one good deed at a time, have fled from my mind.