Public Service Annoucement

Let me preface. I think I still might want kids. Let me emphasize: I think. I am 27 and getting a little selfish with my money and time. I think I am enjoying single-hood but then again, I probably have not been inspired to WANT to share. I digress. I work retail in a rather kid friendly store. We give balloons and have little toys mixed in with the Burberry dresses and Ed Hardy shirts for toddlers. Day after day I see these little beings running around my store although more often, they are about 3 years old (clearly able to walk on their own) and being pushed around in a Maclaren Stroller.

sidebar: ANY mom who is a GOOD mom apparently owns the Cadillac of strollers. Out are the baby joggers, so prominent in the early part of the millennium, in are the Maclaren. And please do not forget the baby bjorn and kate spade diaper bags, for when you just can't be occupied by a cart with wheels. This message brought to you by Google search! I hope all you annoying moms read this blog!

How often have I tried to fit one of these moms in a nice pair of shoes and they run out on me because their brats are "tired" or want "a pretzel" or is just plain rude? How many times have their brats taken the shoe boxes I keep meticulously neat and dumped the shoes and tissue about? Oh, and they always proceed to want to put their little, stinky, sockless feet into the shoes their mom is trying on. What does Stylish Mummy say? "Oh... isnt that cute? *in soft voice* Okay, now Mackenzie/Sheridan/Forest/Aiden/Madison/Michayla/Jared/(other sytlish, non-hood name), that's enough mummy is trying on shoes, put the shoes away now for mummy" after which they look to me for an affirmation that their child is merely cute... not a terror. I must always respond, stifling instinctual eye rolling, "Yes!" *insert big cheesy, FAKE, grin here*.

I am sorry ladies, your brats are not cute. They should sit. They should not touch. They should KNOW not to touch. They should not be BRIBED into not touching. Do you know why? Because most likely, you have bribed them with some high fructose laden confection which will inevitably end up on the glass displays or mirrors. And as JOYFUL as it is to clean that mess up immediately, before snobby customer arrives and complains about it, its much easier to just not have to deal with it. If you know your child is a brat, do not bring them along. *Yes, you know. Save the denial for public* Also, I am commissioned. Do not take an hour of my time, trying shoes, only to run out on buying them because little Jayden/Ava decides to have a tantrum. And since when are tantrums cool? Far departed are we from my childhood when tantrums were not tolerated. Now, they are natural and cute. It is not cute, its rather unnerving and if I weren't trying to make a quick $100 off of your purchase, you would probably see my disgust all over my face.

Finally, Please note. If your child comes into the elevator and I am not working. I will NOT let them push the button. They always press extra buttons, increasing my trip. I am young and I work. I am not stay at home mommy and I do not have that time to waste. Save that cutesy, give your brat anything they want crap for when you do not have to share space. Oh yes, snotty noses are NOT the business either but that's more a note for the trashy sale rack parents. Not the trendy Juicy leisure suit/Tory Burch flat mommies.

Lessons Learned: Your kids are only cute... TO YOU. The rest of us find them annoying little creatures which should be locked away most times. They most definitely do not belong in movies or restaurants. I don't bring my dog to the mall outside of a bag, so keep your little pet harnessed.

Remember the Jennifer Lopez song Love Don't Cost a Thing? How many of you all can relate? Ladies, how many of you have had men in your life that say things like "Baby, I love you. I spent my last dime on you" or "If I didn't care I wouldn't have bought you anything"? Its time men know, gifts SUPPLEMENT relationships. They don't make them. Monetary gifts are not testimonies to love if there isn't any real action behind it.
I know, I know, women love to go back to the Taj Mahal story. The mausoleum whose pure massiveness is purported to show the intense love the emperor had for his wife. Newsflash, women love sparkly things but not if they don't feel the love behind it. If there's no passon in your words, tenderness in your touch, fire in your kiss and love in your eyes then the little trinkets you throw at her remain trinkets, not a testament to your love.You want to keep your woman? Tell her you love her and mean it. Otherwise you're just a bland, empty relationship for show:


Don't they look happy folks? Guess Kim really feels the love through that Bentley he helped buy her.

Lessons Learned: Remember Carrie and Big. They did the outlandish wedding and home and failed. When they brought it back down to the simple things, the elements of their love, they achieved!

So I went out to a birthday lunch last Wednesday with my managers and their secretary (the birthday girl) at my second internship. We were enjoying our hot and sour soup and Miss Birthday girl was wolfing down her eggroll (eww) and Barak Obama comes up in discussion.
Its the day after inauguration and I've already fielded off questions about watching the inauguration. As a black woman, everyone expects me to have Obama-mania. In the fall, at another internship, I was asked about who I was supporting and I told my boss I would not discuss it (I supported Obama by default, I loved Mike Gravel LOL (kind of jokingly though). When you take this stance people kind of assume you were for the "other side". This often becomes a problem because the refusal to discuss affiliations coupled with playing the 'non threatening black girl role' tends to allow your counterparts to do two things a) feel free to talk about their affiliations and b) feel free to say whatever prejudiced, uneducated crap they please. Yes, they DO go there EVERY time. I don't want to say what race they are but I am sure you can assume. I have heard a couple of things from the likes of coworkers about Obama
* I can't trust him. He came out of no where.
* I had to stop my son from pressing the Obama button. He wanted to vote for him because of his funny name
* I am really scared of Obama. Really scared.

Yes but most infuriating of all is from Little Miss Birthday Girl who insisted that Obama is a "MOOSLUM" and that he won't show his birth certificate. Excuse me? Let me note I work in the Information department of great, flourishing company (layman's terms: computer people with fancy computers and unblocked google/cnn access).

Conversation Excerpt
Little Miss Birthday Girl: *snobbily as she massacres her greasy egg roll* I didn't watch the Inauguration. Its just an inauguration just like any other.
Close Minded Boss: Yeah I know but the Stocks plummeted.
LMBG: Yeah, because they didnt like what he had to say in that speech *snort*
Me: *drops head, concentrates of the slimy crap in the soup that looks like tripe*
Open Minded Boss: Well, It was a moment in history! I'd like to hear the speech. I've had pieced but I haven't heard the whole thing so I don't want to judge him.
LMBG: I wasn't pro-Obama.
Open Minded Secretary: I wasn't Pro-Obama either but I listened to him and gave him a chance and liked him.
LMBG: I am not pro-Obama. I can't understand a man who won't show his birth certificate. I mean, if you have nothing to hide, then why not show them.
Me: *drops head lower, bites cheeks to keep from talking... OH, A MUSHROOM!*
CMB: Yeah, well everyone has their skeletons. *looks to me for validation for 'saving' Obama in his mind *

Okay, it continued on. Open Minded Boss continued to assert that Obama was okay and changed the subject. Lil Miss Birthday Girl tried to bring up her witty, post Hilary talking point about "MOOSLUMS" and birth certificates. Are you serious? Chick, GOOGLE IT BABY, its the first HIT
You think HUSSEIN Obama would be in office if there were ANY invalidity to this birth certificate? You think they'd have allowed a forgery through. I guess you have less faith in the system than you think huh?
Anyway, I say all this to say that religion and politics were reserved for brandy and cigars for the men at parties for a reason. You'd have to be drunk and crazy to even bother because you get no where in the conversation. I'm spiritual person but do I bother arguing with bible thumpers and athiests/agnostics? No point. However, I can wear my cross to work and it says all I need it to say. Barak Obama is favored by many and hated by many more in a covert way. And some reason they tend to go back to these ignorant attacks about religion and nationality because they reserve the race conversations for their homes (the biracial/black argument will be in another blog). However, it has NO PLACE in the WORKPLACE. I come to work to do my job and make money do I can go to a nice home and not think about you crazies not to talk about my life. You all are not my friends. I don't believe in making friends in a temporary workplace. So save your thoughts, especially over food, its hard enough watching me watch you scarf down nasty, greasy food.

Lessons Learned: Save religion and politics for CNN and The Christian Channel

*clink* *clack* *clink* *clack*

I am walking into work and think Someone needs new heel taps on their shoes ASAP So, I look around and I see this chick who just KNOW she is bad. The heels of her Charlotte Russe leopard print stiletto are so worn, the plastic no longer exists. So all you have left is the metal the attaches the plastic to the heel. There's a couple issues with this. Leaned over shoes are NOT cute. You ain't 'stylin' if your shoes are falling apart. Normall, I'd say see a shoe repair shop but it's clear those heels cost MAYBE $15. When your heels are THAT cheap why are you holding on to them for dear life? Let them GO before you break your tail trying to walk in them. You're browsing in an high end store and you want the sales people to think you're actually buying? Its wrong to judge but a lot of the sales people are going to think you arent worth waiting on. Its tacky and ugly... let them go.

Lessons Learned: If your shoes are beat down, odds are you looks like a beat down bird. If you're gonna go cheap, at least have more than one pair and replace often!

Okay, I see y'all and y'all see me. I work in upscale retail. Its light upscale by NYC, LA etc standards but for my city, its upscale. So you know me, know who I am, know who I was, know what you heard and you are surprised. Why is she working here. I'll tell you why. Respect my hustle: My daddy gave me everything and I was seen as spoiled and shiftless. Okay, he died and now my hard work is not only in school its working too. I sell shoes. I guess that seems like menial labor that is below you right? Wrong? I make more than my city's median income selling shoes. Why? 10% commission... and I sell Jimmy Choo, The Car Shoe, Chloe, Moschino (Cheap & Chic right?) and Loboutin if you need it. I can sell you La Mer and a Valentino bag if you see fit to have it. You do the math... So next time you see me, speak, and then ask for tips on how to hustle and grind to reach that next level. See, I work retail NOW but... LOL, I'll keep my future to myself. ;o)

Lessons Learned: Don't look down on people and their jobs. You never know, they might be doing better than you and maybe you couldn't pay them to do what you do.

My Name is Ann...


If you reached this destination through a link from one of my pages (myspace, facebook etc.) Then you know who I am, or at least a little about me. Otherwise, its okay. This will probably be the only post that pertains to me. Maybe I'll use another blog for that purpose. So if you know me, you may have a few questions.

Q: Where did your other blog go?
A: I took it down in spring 2006. I was being a very petty person at that time. I had immersed myself in a culture of women that can, at times, bring out the petty in you although it strives to put petty things aside. It doesn't happen to everyone but it happened to me. Naturally, that is not who I am. I am extremely shy and caring however I had never been in the "limelight", never been one to be in the forefront, or known for anything. I am a very understated but opinionated individual. I describe myself as a little indian who can be the chief if needed. Anyway, being unable to cope with a new environment brought out the worst and I needed to step away from my blog because it became an outlet with which to spew ugliness. My father died soon after this revelation and I was forced to re-evolve. I have done a 270. Almost back the person I was but less shy, more forceful, and more thoughtful. So here we are. I work in retail, I intern and I am nearly done with grad school.

Q: What will this blog be about?
A: I see too much crazy crap that I wanted to talk about and I was using my facebook status to do it. Well the lovely staff at facebook has a length limit and it was stifling the wit and humor of my observational commentary. So I brought it here. Also, I find that posting a status makes people thing things are about them. Not necessarily, but you may be a guilty party. Nevertheless, I brought the blog here to avoid that. Not to mention a lot of times I am talking about myself too. I commit a lot of the faux pas I'm going to discuss. LOL. This blog is for my personal enjoyment but I think I will share it with you all too. :o)

Q: You must be a lame with lots of free time.
A: Well, that was a statement but I will answer it anyway. I do not have lots of free time. Quite the contrary, I am pressed for time. I have a full life and I enjoy it and I also enjoy blogging, not to be confused with actual writing. I missed my blog, like I missed facebook-ing and catching/keeping up with old friends.

Q: SWAGGER JACKER!
A: Chile, please. I may not have been an innovator or early adopter but I entered into the blogosphere in 2005, call me the earliest of the early majority!




I'm two years removed, still the vibe is in my veins
I got a hustler spirit, [chick] period
Check out my hat yo, peep the way I wear it
Check out my swag' yo, I walk like a ballplayer
No matter where you go, you are what you are player
And you can try to change but that's just as hot player
Man, you was who you was 'fore you got here
Only God can judge me, so I'm gone
Either love me, or leave me alone.