When It Rains…and Other Things…
Today a techie confirmed that my computer has “jerpies.” Jerpies is the word that I use for any infectious disease, virus, parasite, bacteria, or other vermicious malady. In this case, my PC has a Trojan Horse (this nomenclature is particularly annoying considering a certain brand of condom and its obvious association with preventing jerpies). All kinds of random things have been happening when I try to connect to the internet. Don’t worry, you can’t catch it from reading this blog, receiving this post via e-mail subscription, or from a toilet seat. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon, but in the meantime I’m kind of worried about all of my files. Let’s hope things work out.
Meanwhile, because I attached a living and breathing face to my rent check this month and failed to do so for certain other necessities such as my cell phone and internet, I allowed the latter check to go unpaid so the former wouldn’t bounce. And these people are not playing with my recession-afflicted behind so I am currently without service. Now I’m living in a semi-secluded state, albeit in the fourth largest city in the Union. It’s kind of salty but at least I can still get my nails done. This time around I’m going for Dalmation print airbrush, just for kicks.
I was attacked by the Old Negro Mafia this week. This security guard, a woman who, most likely, gets into bed with Otis every evening after leaving work, really tried to step to me. I was wrong to try to grab something from the building without my ID, but when I returned with it – completely prepared to perform the customary cardswipe – homegirl still asked to actually see my ID. And as much as I wanted to get all Ice-Cube-in-Higher-Learning on her, she’s black and older than I am, which makes her the last person I really want to sass. Instead, I just did my swipe and kept it movin’. Don’t you know she threatened to call security and started talking all of this trash to the other security guards about how important I must think I am? I do think I’m important, but fundamentally I just refuse to go by some extra shift-worker-enforced rules just because “we have to work harder to be considered just as good.” It doesn’t count when some toy cop with a burnt-out perm forces me to rise to the imaginary challenge.
On another note, the summer always starts to feel a little bit over on August 13, which is my father’s birthday. My dad is the greatest, and I know that I think so partially because I’m so much like him. He’s the person who taught me that being smart, black, and eccentric is my natural lot in life, and I could never thank him enough for it. He has locs, wears bowties and straw hats, and never hesitates to sing-a-long with the radio even if it’s in falsetto. I really do owe it all to him. Anyway, since I have that marker to signal the denouement of my favorite season, I feel compelled to plan for the fall, which only makes me more excited. Between global warming forcing warm weather well into October and Brian Westbrook‘s buns in Sunday football only a few weeks away I certainly can’t complain. A positive attitude tends to prevail and my friends will get me through the rest.
Speaking of which, friends, if you haven’t had the chance to so, please go to Black Web Awards to register your vote. I’d love to make a nice showing for “Blog To Watch,” and I’m also sure that there are other other blogs you read that deserve nominations in other categories. I can’t even begin to play favorites but some of the best are on my blogroll and/or belong to commenters right here so show some support!