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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...


Face In Palm

There are so many things going on right now.

Paula Deen is having her ass handed to her via the Twittersphere for some Southern fried racist nonsense she said.

Somebody finally listened carefully to Robin Thicke's latest, Blurred Lines, & felt uncomfortable like I did (while strangely still able to bop to it) upon discovering it's a little (if not a lot) rapey.

I'm out here playing games in my Multicultural Counseling course that provide the experience of being a foreigner who doesn't speak the language, being upper middle or upper class, being middle class, or being a lower class throwaway. That shit's emotional.

I'm tryna understand where I stand or if I'll have somewhere to lay in the very near future.

I'm getting reacquainted with struggle delicacies--meals crafted out of the 1-3 items in the fridge or pantry.

Ignoring the shit out of a former friend's birthday, refusing to be the bigger person in a sitch that I'm totally confused on.

Spending business hours with the most egomaniacal megalomaniacs for the sake of both the check & the children. Everything is better when you say it's "for the children," right?

& trying to find the energy to sit here & tap out some of the thoughts I have swirling around in my head.

That makes me exhausted. So, essentially, this is a space filler. I'm holding my place, letting you know I haven't fallen off the planet, despite not getting around to about 3 intended posts. I'm hoping I will have the strength to crank them out in the very near future.

I appreciate your patience.

Watch me move (at a snail's pace).

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