It Ain’t Gonna Happen… Move On…

I’ve tried keeping this down in the depths of my soul – but I CANNOT take it anymore… I’m not saying I’m a Skinny Minnie by any means. I CAN tell you that being a human being; as you all are you probably try to judge whether or not you can fit between 2 people or comfortably sit next to someone… Naturally I’m looking for a rail thin Asian woman or a small old lady to sit next to. That’s my jackpot. I can’t stand sitting next to men – I mean seriously, your balls are NOT THAT BIG, no matter what the hooker told you. Close your legs, it’s annoying. I can’t stand sitting next to someone & feel their body heat; it disgusts me. If someone gets up, I cannot immediately sit in the seat they’ve just vacated. It grosses me out to feel other people’s butt warmth, I can’t even feel Victor’s or my Mom’s; you feel me? So yes, these are the neurotic things that bother me (amongst a million others). But as I said earlier; we judge whether or not we’ll “fit” into a space. I, my friends, have unfortunately encountered 2 people (women) who do not share my same size assessment…

I took the bus the other day ~ you know how I feel about these buses – they are the Lap of Luxury… truly. The ones that have their own air vents for each passenger, a cool little light you can point towards yourself if need be, the crazy leg room & the reclining chairs. I got on this heavenly transportation the other day & as Victor & I found we try to be welcoming to people that we find desirable to sit next to & try to be unwelcoming to others. LOL, I’m trying to send out some Psychic Friends Network vibes to all the anorexic people, to all the sweet smelling people & deter all the body odor loving, snorers, seat takerovers I can… well, it didn’t work this dreadful day. A woman decided to sit on; excuse me NEXT to me. I can tell you from my personal experience, I KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt whether or not the junk in my trunk will fit into a space or not… I just know it & if I think there’s a chance I’ll pop out from the sheer force of being squeezed into somewhere I’m not going to risk it, I’ll stand. This woman had no such sense. Well, she had enough sense to lift the arm rest to allow herself room to get into the seat as she sat on half of my thigh & upper right ass cheek, but then this woman had the sheer balls to put the arm rest D.O.W.N. – thus squeezing us closer together. Again, my hips don’t lie… just because you will your ass to be smaller or your body to be skinnier does not mean it’s going to happen TRUST ME, I’VE TRIED IT… IT DOESN’T WORK unfortunately L!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had to wedge my left hip & ass cheek under my arm rest & even adjusted myself in vain as to alert my fellow passenger to how uncomfortable she’s making me (usually it works – but not that day) L So I wasn’t even able to play with my iPod or sleep because I was uncomfortable & her f’n arm kept slipping & hitting me in the arm while she was sleeping. WTF?!

Yesterday I was stuck with the same unfortunate plight… I got unto the train into a 3 seater; now you must know that I take a gamble… the gamble is I could be stuck in a 3 seater with actually 3 people instead of the standard 2 – hey, it happens. But again, I was stuck with a woman that knew VERY WELL that she couldn’t fit between us. But she gave it a valiant effort & at the same time made sure I was extremely uncomfortable. I was contorted in my chair; cursing the fact that I sat in a 3 seater (although this could very well happen in a 2 seater as well), she was also reading a newspaper!!!!!!!! Lady!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t even breathe in deeply & fully expand my ribs & you’re leafing through a f’n newspaper?! Seriously?! The air conditioning was on, but oddly enough the air vents under the windows were on fire!!! I sat & suffered for 2 stops & 20 minutes. But finally, a beam of light shone down from Heaven (thanks Nani) & a person 3 rows in front of me got off @ the stop. I saw my chance for freedom & quickly said “Excuse Me” & made the ladies get up & quickly scooted my big, wide ass into a brand spanking open air seat (with complimentary butt warmth *yuk* - but welcomed it with open arms).

I’m seriously contemplating just sitting on the floor or standing from now on. I’ll let you know how it goes.

The Hair Nazi

OK, so this pic is of Tabatha Coffey from Bravo's "Tabatha's Salon Takeover". Now that I really sit back & think of it. I think perhaps she is the one I ran into... but then, it couldn't have been... my Quiz Show Host HAD to be from Germany.
About 4 years back or so, I went to the bank with my friend Catherine to go cash her paycheck - no bitch didn't owe me money. I was just accompanying her :) LOL, so Cath-e-rine goes up to the counter to start her banking transaction & I figure I'm gonna take a load off & sit on some of the chairs in the lobby area. Out of nowhere this white haird lady (reference picture above) begins to stare at me. I mean staring as if she saw me on a Wanted (Dead or Aliiiiiiiive Poster). She walks up to me & already *groan* I know what this convo is going to be about. So it begins, with her think German accent... she begins asking me about my hair...
Wait, before I begin, try & say this to yourself in the most German accent you can gather within yourself... OK? OK. And also, keep in mind, after EVERY SINGLE THING SHE SAYS SHE MAKES THIS FACE...

Keep it in mind... it is CENTRAL for the journey I'm about to take you on...

Hair Nazi: Hello
Me: Hi
Hair Nazi: I have a question for you.
Me: OK
Hair Nazi: Is that your hair?
Me: Yes
Hair Nazi: Yours?
Me: Yes
Hair Nazi: You got this style from somewhere?
Me: No
Hair Nazi: How did you get it?
Me: ::pause:: IT'S MINE
Hair Nazi: Well, what do you put in it?
Me: Gel, Hair Spray & I diffuse it
Hair Nazi: NO! What do you put in it? What kind of product?
Me: ::taken aback:: Ummm, Biolage
Hair Nazi: Really? That's it? :: evil laugh under breath:: I don't believe you...
Me: ::about to smack a bitch up:: OK...
Hair Nazi: I don't believe you. How do you do it? How often do you do it?
Me: ::divulge my trade secrets:: about once a week
Hair Nazi: I don't believe you... What do you use again? ::in the most aggressive manner::

Bitch was straight up quizzing me!!!

Me: I told you
Hair Nazi: Well, I can't believe it. I'm a stylist & when women come in to see me they say they want your hair & I can't do that. I can't believe you can.

Now... I begin laughing to myself, mystified by the fact that German women are strolling into Helga's House of Hair demanding to have my curls... IN GERMANY!!!!!!!!! Is she kidding me? I can't imagine seeing Helga strolling down the street with this dead carcass on my head... so now I don't believe her.

Me: Well, I CAN

She got over it & Catherine was done with her banking transaction so I told her good luck & left her there stupified... she probably still talks of me & my hair as if I was an apparition... like I was an oasis. LOL, no one will ever believe the tale of "The Woman with the Gorgeous Hair"

Yes, I Know... My Hair is Gorgeous...

I have been complimented so much on this wool blanket that lays on my head a.k.a. my hair for a long time now & I welcome & so appreciate the compliments; as I was teased for many a year about it. But I’m over that now… I really am. But easy… don’t be so brave to make jokes. LOL, so I get sincere compliments accompanied by amazement mostly. Once a black woman (you know how much a good weave is treasured) truly asked me “Gurl, your hair is gorgeous, where’d you get it?” I told her “It’s Mine” she said “Gurl, trust me, I know it’s yours… but where’d you get it?” and I told her “No, seriously, it’s my hair, I didn’t buy it, it’s my hair, it’s real”. Some have told me this is the ultimate compliment… to be asked by a weave master where I got my hair. I guess I can see their point, but then it makes me think… damn! Does everyone assume I’m walking around with fake hair?! I've had people ask if I truly sit down & use a curling iron for each curl... are you fucking kidding me? Does that even sound like a logical question to you lady? Can you imagine?! Could you truly imagine? I've had complete strangers just bust out & grab my hair!!!!!!!! A COMPLETE stranger!!! And their response when I look back at them is... "I'm so sorry, I just had to touch it" followed by a corny smile greeted with a dirty look from me. I mean, that's basically the equivalent to me walking up to a large boobed woman grabbing a tittay & saying "So sorry, I just had to touch it". Who the? What the? Most people though (strangers) will try to break the ice with something & begin to fumble with their hands as they try to keep them to themselves & then finally blurt out "I love your hair, it's so beautiful... can I... is it... can I just touch it?" And I normally give in. TO COMPLETE STRANGERS!!! Maybe this is something I need to stop on my end. Basically my hair is a celebrity & without it I'd never get noticed. LMAO, my hair makes me. I don't think it would look good any other way, it wouldn't be me. Although, I won't front - I do PRAY that it could be straight... I put it on people's heads so they can take pics as if they had curly hair (babies, children, men & women) everyone's gotten in on the action. Shit! I'm going to start charging!!!

A year or 2 ago, on my walk down the block to the Port Authority I had a woman run up in back of me & catch up & walk alongside as she asked me what I use in my hair. Because her hair was just like mine – this is where the conceited pompous chick pops outta me (me thinking… “Yeah right bitch, your hair will never look like mine”), her hair was NOT like mine, not even close. I guess that’s human nature – certain types of people feel like they have to express that they go through the same struggle as you even though they clearly don’t… weird no? She tried everything she could but just couldn’t get her hair to look like mine. Well duh... So this weirdo asks me & I tell her & no joke, a few months later, walking down the same block she runs up to me again saying she didn’t mean to be a stalker, but she needed to know AGAIN what it was she had to buy in order to do her hair like mine. I gave her “shitface” look. Who does that?! Who runs ½ a mile to find out about hair product?! I swear, the next time she comes up to me I’m gonna have to karate chop her in the throat & tell her she’ll never have anything over me so get over it. LMAO, ya know, thinking about it now… perhaps I am conceited about my hair… I mean, at least I’m proud of something right? Sometimes when someone compliments me on my hair 4-5 days in all I think is “Pssshhhh, you should have seen it on the 2nd & 3rd day”. LMAO So when someone asks what I put in my hair I happily tell them & relish in the fact that they’ll never understand or get to the point where I am with my hair… I mean, this is an art people… this is a true craft I perform on myself on a weekly basis (YES, YOU READ THAT RIGHT… WEEKLY BASIS!!!!) This shit gets expensive!!!

By my calculations I average (not including coloring):
Gel ~ $360/year
Hair Spray ~ $120 - $312/year on Hair Spray (depending on what brand I buy)
Hair Tonic ~ $180/year
Blow Dryer ~ $80/year (I go through at least 2 a year)
Shampoo & Conditioner ~ $120 (luckily I get a discount @ work so this REALLY helps)

So this works out roughly to anywhere from $860 - $1,052 a year – A YEAR on hair product alone!!!! And if an impersonator is trying to achieve my pinnacle of hair (I swear, I’m not this self centered LMAO) they don’t know the technique of how it’s all supposed to work out… hence why I'll have the most awesome hair in the history of hair Tee-hee.

Sleeping with The Enemy

So I basically almost killed my Husband... I had a night terror. No. NOT a nightmare... a night terror... It was physically terrifying. I did a little research & came to find out that as the picture above shows, the ancient Greeks thought that during nightmares one is dominated by an "incubus" (a small demon) who sits on the dreamer's chest, leading to a sense of suffocation, breath difficulties, a racing and heavy heart. Oh those Greeks. Well, they came pretty damn close.

Victor & I had gone down to Maryland to visit his Sister (my SIL), his & my Brother In Law, our niece Alyssa & their brand new baby Kayla... Lasanta had to work that night so it was just Carmen, Victor, my Mother In Law & the kiddies. We stayed up talking for a bit & then went to sleep - it was actually quite early; before 11:00. We crawl on into our blow up mattress & turn in for the night. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything is nice & quiet, peaceful even & Victor & I drift off into the Land of Nod. Except it wasn't the Land of Nod for me. It was the Land of Hell...

My Mother always told me I was afraid of death & that I was always scared of dying. I guess after years of watching crime solving shows & documentaries I had pretty much convinced myself that the way I was going to die was by someone murdering me. I just always felt like it was going to happen. It's a huge fear of mine...

All I know was suddenly I was laying on the floor, in a very dark room with only a little light coming in. There was a dark silohuette above me. Immediately I thought it was a man; immediately I thought: this is it, this is how it's going to happen. My very worst fear was coming true, I'm going to die. I felt this person wanted to kill me & basically I began to fight for my life. I began screaming - not even words, just screaming at the top of my lungs, I began punching, clawing like a f'n animal, Hispanic Mother, kicking as if I invented Tae Kwon Do myself. All I knew was this person was going... to... kill... me... and I wasn't going out like that. All of a sudden I felt a weight on top of me. I felt it covering my face; I bit down hard, I swear I felt my teeth connect! I kept fighting & somehow, by the grace of God I was awake!!!! Sitting up in a dark room, surrounded by Victor, Carmen & my Mother In Law. They looked shocked, they were quiet just staring at me. And in that split second I realized it was all a dream!!! I was alive!!! No one was killing me! I just broke down & sobbed & sobbed & sobbed. I was so grateful it was a dream *Excuse me - Night Terror*

They immediately began trying to soothe me & tell me to calm down, shit it practically brings tears to my eyes thinking of how comforting they were. Victor tried to hug me but I was trembling, I didn't even want him to touch me. It was so crazy, I felt uncomfortable with a man, my Husband, consoling me. Fast forward a few minutes & quite a few glasses of water later I go to look for Victor who is in the bathroom with his sister. I come into the bathroom to find that there is blood on Victor's shirt, not only his, mine too. He had scratches on the side of his face, scratches on his back & arm. He lifted his shirt to show me a bruised bite mark looking like it was left by a f'n animal. I was that animal. Victor was the "man" I bit in my dream. Turns out he was trying to wake me up the whole time & I wasn't responding.

The only advice I can give anyone about this is to always try to go to sleep with good thoughts in your head... it's pretty f'n scary what your brain can pull out of you at times. Needless to say it was a horrifying experience to go through... I almost killed my Husband!!!! LOL, at least now he knows if this is what I could do in my sleep imagine what I could do awake MoFo...

An *Almost Deadly* Veggie Tale...

I was almost murdered by a vegetable. A scallion to be exact… it was a fateful Monday night that I decided to make myself tuna fish for dinner… I know, appetizing right? I know you’re probably thinking I shouldn’t go all out making gourmet meals for dinner, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to bring the big guns out… anywho, I make my tuna fish like my Momma does, tomatoes, scallions & seasoning… Now, I love scallions, I mean I REALLY love scallions – there can never be too many in any dish as far as I’m concerned.

Victor & I were having a convo & he said something funny & in my deep breath before my laughter boom a scallion got caught up in my air intake… it was like the house in The Wizard of Oz & this veggie came crashing down on the Wicked Witch (also known as my wind tube)… I couldn’t breathe, it was blocking it!!! I feel it, just chillin’ laying there as I struggle to breathe in. I began to cough & after awhile it became uncontrollable… Victor began to pat my back (oh so gently LOL, didn’t want to cave in my back). And poured me some water to help me out. Now this is my question: When someone is choking because they cannot physically breathe, WTF makes you think they’ll be able to get a drop of anything down their throat?! I mean c’mon!!! I can’t breathe!!! I don’t have the time or ability to kick back with an icy cold glass of lemonade god dammit!!! But thanks Baby, thanks for the patting & coaching me through… with Victor’s help I was able to finally cough it up & it was so damned small… mascara & tears running down my face over a small cut of a scallion. My beloved vegetable… how could you do this to me?

That's a Big Bitch!!

Not sure if you've seen the theatrical masterpiece that is Deuce Bigalow ~ Male Gigolo. But one of the lovely ladies that he "dates" in the movie is a huge bohemith of a woman (reference pic above). You may ask... Athena... why are you giving this visual? And I reply my friends... because I myself have encountered one.

Every morning I catch the train & sometimes catch a glimpse of a rather large woman. So large in fact that if you are sitting down & she's standing next to you, your head would come to about the bottom of her ass crack. That's a big bitch! So, I've seen her once in a while on my ride into NY. I have recently started seeing her on my train ride to work in NY. Oddly enough she sometimes is riding in my same car. The reason I've noticed her is not because of her freakishly large size. The reason I see her is because I have physically bumped into her ass cheeks quite a few times!!!!

The 1st time it happened it truly took me by surprise; whilst stepping off of the train car (whose doors were about to close) I took a leap of faith with her standing in front me. I really thought by the time I hit the platform she would be well on her way to being, well... out of my way. But no my friends, turns out her large size makes her slothlike. She did not move, she was indeed dead in front of me. In my leap off of the train I bumped into her & when I say bumped into her I practically bounced off her ass cheeks which practically come up to my boobs. I shit you not. So I pounced on a strangers ass & she had absolutely no reaction to it. I deduce that she is used to this sort of treatment, bouncing people off & plucking people out of her ass cheeks. I mean, that has to be it... she cannot possibly feel it!

Why, just today, on my way to work, the Slothy Bohemith was on my train to work. But this time, I didn't even know she was in front of me. I hopped off the train right into her asshole again!!! WTF?! Her ass has to be, MUST be desensitized to this shit! I mean, if everyone was bumping into my butt constantly I'd know it. But she didn't even feel it & just went about her business. I'm convinced now her purpose in life is to suck me up into her vortex of ass cheeks - it's like she's everywhere & I'm getting creeped out. From now on I'm just going to wait on the train car til she's like 10 feet in front of me. I mean it's that or I'm being swallowed whole by her ass & I want to live!! I want to live!!!!!!!

Chester the Foot Molester

So, as you’ve read below, I fell down a staircase 1 week before my Wedding. The week OF my Wedding, I was forced to go & see a Podiatrist so he could tell me the best way possible to deal with my ankle & foot for my Wedding & Honeymoon (I really do miss you Mexico). Being a Doctor I suppose you’re compelled to make small conversation with your patients.

Naturally, being a Podiatrist he has to get up close & personal with my foot, grab it, squeeze it, look at it closely… in the midst of his inspecting my foot I spill the beans about my upcoming Wedding… blah… blah… blah…

I go back to follow up with him after the Honeymoon – freshly married. Sparkly ring, Newlywed glow… He walks into the office & looks me up & down. Takes a seat & begins to look @ my foot. But this time he’s much different, flirty… I went for the appointment right before work. Dressed in black pants & a cute purple sweater… he makes a lame attempt at conversation. And then asks me where I’m going. I tell him to work & he says “Like that?!?!” Like I’m wearing nipple cover & a G string… when I tell him yes he begins to flirt even more,whilst holding my injured limb gently. Saying I look so pretty & if he was my Husband he wouldn’t let me walk out like that… cue the sexual harassment music! Needless to say I never went to see him again, I’m sure he misses me & my pretty foot LMAO

Gross, all I could think of is that this guy grew up having fantasies like this:

Gross… ill… yuck… uuuggghhh… nasty… ill!!!! I’m sure he was just dying for me to just do this to him:

Looking back on it now, both Victor & I agree I could have totally had a Sugar Daddy right now. We’d be in the money… I’m sure he’ll be losing his license soon. LOL, stay away from any sort of Doctor that could have a fetish caused by his line of work. Ill…

I'm Having... Chest Pains...

So, a few years back I began having weird things happen with my Lil’ Ol’ Heart… it was doing a delayed double beat almost every other beat. So, I decide I gotta go see a Dr. Now, I know I’m getting old… why you may ask? This is why… here is a list of the Dr.’s I own:

Dr. Bolds ~ Dentist (best in the world)
Dr. Campton ~ Dermatologist
Dr. Daub ~ regular good ol’ body Doctor
Dr. Econopouly ~ Podiatrist
Dr. Namdar ~ Ear, nose & throat Doctor
Dr. Pumill ~ Cardiologist
Dr. Schwartz ~ Eye Doctor
Dr. Shin ~ Lady Doctor

So you see, I’m old… I have 8! Count ‘em 8 Doctors!!!! And one in the family – so I have 9 Doctors!!! I’m old…

Anywho, I find my Cardiologist & have an EKG done, they say I have to wear a Heart Monitor for 24 hours straight. It’s this HUGE square box that I have to hook unto my pants while the wires run all over various parts of my person. So many damned wires - straight up, I was a cyborg... If I would have gotten arrested or hit by a car or something & I had to get frisked or shocked they would’ve thought I was a suicide bomber or something. LOL So cool, I’ll wear it. That morning my Dad dropped me off @ the bus stop & in my rush to cross the street I guess I dropped the cover the “heart box” came in because I couldn’t find it anywhere… The next day my Daddy gives me a ride back to Dr.’s office to return the monitor, this is where things get interesting…

I walk up to the counter – behind it is about 5-6 nurses – all women (great). The conversation goes like this:
Me: Hi, I’m here to drop off my heart monitor
Nurse #1: OK, do you have the case it came in?
Me: Unfortunately, no, I think I lost it (insert :) here)
Nurse #1: OK… but we need the case
Me: OK… but I don’t have it
Nurse #1: Where is it?
Me: I think I lost it, do you need me to pay for it?
Nurse #1: (speaking to Nurse #2) She doesn’t have the case for the box…
Nurse #2: Hi, do you have the case for this?
Me: Unfortunately, no, I think I lost it (insert :) here)
Nurse #2: We need the case
Me: But I don’t have it
Nurse #2: Well, where is it?
Me: I LOST IT, I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS… I LOST IT, like, I don’t have it on me, I don’t know where it is, I have no idea… (my stupification speech @ the situation continues)
Nurse #2: But we need it
Me: Like I told her, I don’t have it – I lost it. If I knew where it was I’d be giving it to you right now. Do you need me to pay for it?
Nurse #2: No, but we need it

At this point a sweet Nurse with a heart of gold who had been pitifully watching this go down (along with the rest of them) steps in & comes to my rescue by saying:
Nurse #3: Guys, just like she told #1 & just like she told you #2 – she doesn’t have it
Me: Right
Nurse #3: Just give it to me, don’t worry about it… it’s just a case

Looking back after this heart palpitation inducing conversation I think I should have pointed out to all these petty hags behind the counter that I was here… at the HEART Dr.’s office… for a PROBLEM with my HEART… and you’re making it worse!!!!! You’re annoying me… my poor lazy heart was beating triple time.

Lesson learned: ignore people when they make you repeat things more than twice. Perhaps it’s just me, but I’m nice when I say something once, annoyed when you say what? And I have to repeat myself a second time. But it is a *GUARANTEE* if you ask me again, a third time to repeat myself you will get a nasty look followed by my old standby: REALLY?!?!?! WTF am I gonna do when I have kids… hopefully they’ll know not to make Mommy repeat something 3 times… it won’t end well, their bones are very brittle still… LOL

p.s. ~ the old ticker has gotten better :)

A is for Athena Who Fell Down the Stairs...

What we're gonna do right now is go back… way back… back into time…

The date is Friday March 16, 2007. Just one week before March 23,2007 ~ which coincidentally is my Wedding… so 1 week before my Wedding there is a CRAZY snowstorm… so crazy in fact that they let us leave early from work if we lived outside of the city. I had managed to make it to the card store to buy wrapping paper I needed for my Rehearsal dinner. Picked up some Sean John Unforgivable for my Soon-to-Be Hubby, some other things from the Employee Store (where I’m lucky enough to get 50% off retail – Don’t hate, appreciate). Armed with an obscenely large roll of wrapping paper, a filled to the rim bag from the Employee Store, my purse filled with GOD knows what I head out to go catch my bus @ the lovely Port Authority. Shit! If I leave now I can actually catch my bus with 10-20 minutes to spare & be home in a ½ hour!!! I rush out of work, manage to work the mean streets of NY & the subway to make it to the Port Authority. Make it to the gate & something clicks in me & I’m thinking… no way… no way am I going to sit here & wait for a regular good ol' bus when I can go catch a smelly fart van to my house.

Sidebar here… “Smelly Fart Vans” as they were coined by Momo are the commuter vans that pick people up from Journal Square up until the ass end of Weehawken & take you straight to Port Authority (reference picture above - thanks for being our Vanna White Spanish Lady)… they are called “Smelly Fart Vans” because they are just that… in my opinion they are dirty as hell (saw a cockroach in one once – seriously! How the F does that happen?!), LOUD Spanish talking people, inconsiderate people that put their wet umbrellas on a seat just so you can wet your pants like a potty training kid when they pick it up. And way more curry than should be allowed. People that have spicy Doritos body odor (you hear Doritos you think good? Not good... imagine a human smelling like that), booger picking people… I hope you get the jist by now… they are obnoxious & should only be taken in extreme cases… as this was...

Which brings me back to my story… I have a Wedding coming up which equals a lot of crap that needed to still get done. Why would I spend more time waiting for a royal bus, when I can get home in ½ the time if I catch a van now. I rush down stairs, down a few staircases & then I come to the staircase that will change my life…

I rush down the stairs like a mad woman & in my running frenzy the ginormous roll of wrapping paper I was running with decided to transform into a snake betwixt my legs… so as my right leg tries to take the lead it gets stopped by the roll of paper that is lodged behind my left leg, no where for my legs to go, but I got this great momentum behind me… before I know it, I am tumbling… smack me silly & call me Jill, I was tumbling down the hill after I fetched a pail of water. I tried to stop myself during my descent by grabbing onto the banisters, but that didn’t help, the force was too great to stop… I kept tumbling. During my tumble I heard some scream “Oooohhhh!!!!”. I kept tumbling. I tumbled for so long that all I thought was - I’m still falling? Really?!?! I finally get to the bottom of the staircase that OWNED me. I land right on my ass, shocked, baffled, in awe of what just happened to me. Strewn about is the f’n roll of wrapping paper, all of my goodies from the Employee Store – including the beautiful case the Sean John Unforgivable was in for my Hubby L, my purse threw up & everything was everywhere… I just sat there, mystified… a few good samaritans came to my rescue, while a bunch of a-hole onlookers just gawked at what they saw (I’m sure they thought I was filming an action sequence or something – I mean I fell F-O-R-E-V-E-R). As the good folk are asking me if I’m OK & gathering my belongings I start to cry… I start to cry because I’m shocked, embarrassed, I know no one around me to make me feel better, my back hurts & my ankle is KILLING me!!!! I swear I broke it, I fractured it! Something is wrong I tell you! Something is wrong!!!!! A Port Authority officer comes over, as does a Port Authority worker & they’re helping me. The cop is writing a report & asked if I wanted to be taken to the hospital. But all I kept thinking was, I can’t be in a hospital in NY all by myself! I want Victor, where’s Victor, I need Victor!!!!! They ask me what happened, if I slipped on water (remember crazy snowstorm outside) *Ding Ding Ding* this set off something in people’s heads later on – I could have totally sued the Port Authority ~ but alas, my Momma & Poppa didn’t raise me like that J LOL, thanks Mom & Dad… I refuse my option to be taken by ambulance to the hospital. I just want… to… get… home… to… Victor… I go downstairs to the Smelly Fart Van Depot & I call Victor – hysterical, as if my dog died, as if I didn’t make prom queen, as if my Mom cut my hair again… I let it all out, slimy snot & tears stream down my face. I just want him to hug me & tell me it’ll be OK & don’t forget kids… MY ANKLE IS IN MAJOR PAIN!!!

Fast forward to Sunday when I see my genius Brother-in-Law Dr. Horana (nominate him for Surgeon General one day… hoodie hooo!!!! Shout out to Lasanta) who advised me to go to the hospital & get it X-ray’d just in case – basically my foot was looking horrid… turns out I had a SEVERE sprain. I had to take extra days off of work to recooperate before the Wedding because I couldn't even get around. I had to crawl up the stairs like a dog after the hospital because my Future Hubby just stood there & laughed... "Through sickness & health" huh? My ass...

I wore Old Navy white platform flip flops to my Wedding... spent a nice amount of money on my dress to turn around & spend $7.50 on a pair of flip flops. LOL Our Wedding went off without a hitch as did our glorious Honeymoon (Oh, how I miss you Mexico...)

Lesson of the day kids: Do NOT run down stairs...

A funny thing happened on the way to work...

Victor & I usually catch a shuttle when we get off the train, it drops us off about 2-3 blocks away from the house… we walk down to our house, last night we passed by a house (where I’ve NEVER seen or heard dogs – since July) and all of a sudden barking outta nowhere, but the owner was there & he said “Sorry” about the dogs being such a pain in the ass… Fast forward to this morning, I’m walking down the same block to go catch the shuttle (Victor wasn’t with me, he headed off to his Mom’s later). I pass by the same house & there is this dog:
Just looking at me, like dead in the eye, not even moving, like a statue (mouth closed). It clicks with me that this was 1 of the mother f’rs that were barking at us last night, before he even barks I decide I’m going to walk in the street & not even pass in front of the house… I get to the street, I hear barking (from both dogs – the other was a Labrador), I turn to look at the dog (‘cause I heard something bang into the fence) & that bastard is running at me!!!!! Like I stole it’s Kibbles n’ Bits or something!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I freak the F out… like screaming as if someone was killing me… the reasons I scream is:

1. Hello?! I’m scared!!!! All I can think of is this little fucker digging into my calf with it’s nasty teeth
2. Hoping everyone, anyone in the vicinity of me would hear & (a) come help me or (b) look out the window, open a door – something

Not one person peered out, not one person came out of their house… NOTHING. At least I know no one will come to my rescue when I get abducted or killed! But I digress... My first thought is to run – but then I stop realizing this dog is going to catch me. So I stop & turn to it… it’s barking & barking & running at me to get closer every step I take back (meanwhile I’m thinking in the back of my head, what if the other BARKING dog – Labrador remember, 10 times bigger than this one, decides to bust out & try & run a train on me with this little dog?! Luckily he was old & fat & was just barking ‘cause well, he’s a dog & has to.) I tried to kick it - but the dog wasn't having it. Apparently those 4 legs of his come in handy when trying to get out of the way of a death blow roundhouse kick to the head. Then it tries to run circles around me – like trying to disorient me & shit. So the Dog Whisperer is in my mind… and I’m thinking “What would the Dog Whisperer do?! What would the Dog Whisperer do?!?!” And all I know is, you have to show the dog who’s boss, so I decide to stop screaming like a mad woman because that’s not getting me anywhere & I stop walking back, I stand my ground, slightly bend over & stick out my finger like I’m scolding it & screaming (at the same loudness as my screaming) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Over & over, he keeps barking but I stamp my feet & keep screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Then he decides to jet back to the gate, I start walking fast, like super quick, but then it tries to come back to me, then back to the gate & so forth.

At this point an Asian guy (walking his cute little VERY well behaved dog) that’s not on a leash comes walking up the block & I scream “This is unbelievable!!!” He’s doofy & laughs “Yeah, unbelieveable” – I realize, you didn’t just see what I went through dude… you have no idea what I’m saying… but then LUCKILY, my attacker decides to go after the guys dog… I’m practically running away at this point – as is the cute little dog trying to get away from this piece of shit bully, while this guy runs after them both screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So thankfully, I got away… but WTF?! What if I was pregnant?! What if I had a baby with me?! What if I had a 2 year old with me?! What if I was an old person?! What if I was listening to my iPod? I wouldn’t have heard this bastard coming at me!!!! So yeah, we’re going over there tonight and I’m going to tell the owners they need to do something about this dog - like keep it in the f’n house. If the owner gives me a problem I’m going to tell them I’m reporting it to the town. F that. So yeah, that was my morning…

Another pic of my assailant, how it looked when it was coming after me ~ out for blood (no this is not that dog - Google helped me out with the hellish image):

Speaking to my Mom later regarding my assault she said I should have wailed it with my purse... but let's get real people... Ladies, I know you feel me with this. There was no way in hell I was going to put my Baby (until I have a human one), my Marc Jacobs purse in harms way!!!! So no Ma! I didn't try to hit it with a purse... maybe next time... LOL