Many Things Going On...

Really...can anyone relate?!?

Of course you can. If you've been alive for the last month, 'change'--the moniker greatly overused for the last 24 months, is actually coming true. There have been a lot of changes. For one thing--with all the problems that this country is in, it's nice to see that the President feels comfortable in taking some time off to party with Stevie Wonder. I wish I had the time. Well, I did get to go back to Hawaii for a week. But of course, I don't have my own jumbo jet or tricked out helicopter, so I guess he still trumps me. Ah well, I'm not in a race with him.

Speaking of Hawaii, I did get a chance to lay out in the sun for awhile.Got some color back to my face. Which is a good thing. tend to 'white out' when I don't get a lot of sun. It's not uncommon for most people. It just doesn't look right on me. Fo' real. So much so that my wise-cracking niece or nephew take sarcastic pleasure in voicing their opinion. Hmm...opininated sarcasm~wonder where they get that from?

In those brief moments of enjoying the beautiful sands and calm, clear waters of Ko Olina, Cove 2, I was able to reset some buttons in my life. There aren't a lot of times that people get a chance to do that. Some people call it 'alone time'; others take sabbaticals; whatever your preference, I suggest you take some time off to reset yourself.

I have this neighbor~she lives next door. Her name is Carmella. I ran into her one afternoon coming up the stairs and helped her carry this baby in a stroller that she was pulling up the first flight. She was pleasant. Welcomed me to the building, and told me that I looked like the baby's physical therapist. 'He's black and dominican-you look just like him,' she said.

Wow. Okay. I usually get filipino or mexican.

I've seen her a few more times since. Each time, walking up the steps with the baby who's therapist I resemble. "Did I tell you that you look like his therapist?" she says.

Yes, maam I say. (Rolling my eyes on the inside) I brush it off as her friendly awkward banter. She doesn't know me and she's trying to make convesation, I think. That's nice.

So I get home tonight and see a UPS note on my door. I fumble with my bag, mail, groceries and my bundled up body to get in. I notice as I get in the door that the note says that Carmela accepted the package.

That's sweet. It's almost 7:45pm, and I don't know if she's already sleeping. So I close the door behind me and settle in for the night. Maybe I'll see her in the morning on the stairs. If not, I'll get it after work tomorrow, is what i'm thinking.

I'm in the middle of CSI:Las Vegas. The new one with Cowboy Curtis. I haven't invested any energy into his character, but Catherine Willows (Marge Helgenberger) is my favoite person...I love her snarky smile. I'm jealous. It's a smile I'm trying to master. My doorbell rings.

Hard.
RING, RING, RING, RING!!

What the hell!?! That better not be that South Korean grandma, or I swear...(see previous blog for the joke)

Oh no, it's not Cha--but it is Carmela...in her Bronx version mu'u...and she looks completely annoyed.

Uh, Hi, I say.

"So what, you don't want your package?! You're not gonna come get it?! Next time I won't accept it for you then!," she spits out. She said it all in one breath. I was surprised that she had the lung capacity for that much air at one time. She also said it in a tone as if I'd taken her away from her Fashion meetings or from teaching her make-up application classes.(Obvious sarcasm) At this point, I wasn't sure whether I should cuss her out, ignore and politely thank her and get the box, or slingshot Goliath in the forehead. I chose option 2.

The oddest thing about the scene is that she stared at me as if I owed her. Seriously, as if I was supposed to pull out my wallet and give her something. A tip, perhap. I ended up stuttering some weird apology for not picking it up from her earlier (to which she gave me a stern, disapproving look) and carried the box out of her doorway. I felt harrassed and caught off guard and like I was just scolded like a chile. So I did all that I could do--I shot her a Marge smile.

I got some satisfaction out of that.

I don't plan on getting much delivered to my doorstep for a little while. Bitch will probably have UPS take it back. I wonder if Barack has to worry about this sort of shit?
Damn it...beat again.