Whole Bunch of Nothing

That's what I did this weekend. I only left my crib for about 10 minutes to get something to drink. Other than that, I was plopped down on the couch watching tons of tv, talking on the phone or eating the food I cooked. When I got off work Friday night, I went to the grocery store so I wouldn't have to go out to get anything to eat this weekend. Saturday, I made turkey burgers and nachos (not to eat together, but because I have to be in the mood to actually cook, and who knows when that will strike again.) Then I proceeded to watch 18 out of 20 episodes of Battlestar Galactica season 2, both on dvd and online. I had to tell you what I was watching because Jameil thinks it weird. I promise I'm not a sci fi nerd, but that show is really, really good. Besides, I don't think its any stranger than her goal of watching 750 movies in this year. I also watched 5 episodes of Rome on HBO On Demand, and a few episodes of 30 Rock on the computer. Then Sunday night, I watched a couple of movies with Jameil over the phone.

Yep, I sat around all weekend. Did not a thing. For most people that would be boring, but not me. I enjoy my nothing weekends when I have no demands on my time, or nothing to worry about. But alas, its over. Today, its back to the grind. Clients, and coworkers, and management demands. My company reports its first quarter earnings today, so hopefully that'll go well. Our CEO already has a town hall meeting scheduled for all the employees. Its hard to tell if this will be a celebratory propaganda meeting or a reassuring propaganda session in the face of bad numbers. Either way, I'm ready for the propanda. Let's hope for the best.

Hope everybody has a productive Monday. Talk to you all later.

Confessions: I Hit A Girl

The rage boiled in my throbbing brain and before I knew it, I was grabbing her. Fists balled up, I let loose with a left hand that landed squarely on her temple. I knew I was not supposed to put my hands on a female, but I had to assert myself as a man. No more would I tolerate her disrespect...

I'm getting ahead of myself. If you read my comments on Diva's post yesterday, then you already know what I'm writing about. This isn't some domestic violence story; its the story of how me and my sister became cool. I guess I should start at the beginning...

My sister had terrorized me for as long as I can remember. She is two years older than me and always asserted her role as the oldest. My role as the younger brother meant that she could antagonize me whenever the mood struck. It could be something as simple as turning off the Atari when I was about to beat her high score or something as violent as throwing a can of soup at my head. I remember once when we still lived in New York, she tore my Whodini poster off the wall for no good reason (that I can remember.) When I had the nerve to talk back about it, she ripped it to shreds, laughing at me with her friend Sherri. That's what I lived with for many years. I seem to remember her also banging my head on a coffee table, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hurt I felt at being humiliated by my sister.

All my life, I was told not to hit girls. Matter of fact, I don't know if it was something that had to be told to me more than once. For the most part, I was a good kid and never overtly disobeyed my mother's life lessons. So, instead of fighting back when my sister slapped both my ears and yelled "Stereo!", I just took it. For 13 long years, I was her punching bag. Until this Wednesday night in Savannah, Georgia.

I remember it was a Wednesday because Magnum PI was on. That was my favorite show at the time. It came on at the same time as Dynasty, her favorite show. By this time, we had escaped from New York and were living in the Dirrrty at my grandmother's house. The house was full of 4 generations of women: Grandma Cleo (my great grandmother), my grandmother, my mother and my sister. Throw in me and my little brother, and we had a packed 3 bedroom house. We didn't have our own bedrooms. My sister slept in the living room, I slept in the family room, Lord knows where my brother slept: I think in the room with my mother. Over the years, we had many different sleeping arrangements, from couches, to sofa beds, to cots, to palettes on the floor. I guess that's why I can sleep anywhere now. I don't need a bed to fall asleep, I didn't really have my own until I was in my 20's. But I digress, although its not a total digression, because I needed you all to get the picture of how the house was laid out. There was no privacy, no retreating to your bedroom when you got an attitude. I suppose we could have gone to the garage to sulk, but with the flying roaches and the Savannah humidity, that was really a last option. Let me move on...

At the time, the only color tv that we had access to was in the family room. My sister and I used to fight to get control of the TV after Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy went off and my grandmother retreated to her room (which by the way had a TV with cable.) We had to be pretty sneaky to be the first in the room. Whoever finished their homework first, was more than likely gonna be handed the remote after Alex Trebek dipped. This Wednesday night, I was the victor. I watched Unsolved Mysteries at 8 o clock, but was really just waiting for Magnum to come on at 9. I had control of the TV, the night was mine. At 8:57, my sister came in the room and grabbed the remote from me. She turned to channel 4 like she was gonna watch Dynasty.

Normally when this would happen, I would just go to the other room and watch Magnum on the cheap black and white TV with the rabbit ears. But this night, something came over me. I didn't want to acquiesce to my sister. I wanted to watch Magnum on the big TV. I earned it. I sat through the local news with that annoying Dou.g We.athers as well as Wheel and Jeopardy and darnit, I was in control of the TV (that was the phrase we used.) Why should my big sister just waltz in here and take what I rightfully earned? She's been doing this my whole life, but enough is enough.

At first I told her to give me the remote. Not surprisingly she refused. This went on for a few minutes. "Gimme the remote" "No" "Nikki, Gimme the remote" "No." Then I decided to take it by force. At 13, I was bigger than she was at 15 and I figured I could just snatch it from her. How bout she had a death grip on that remote. It took far more effort than I thought to get it from her, but I finally did. I turned to channel 9 and just caught the opening credits of my show. Thinking it was over, I sat back on the sofa and relished my small victory. That's when Nik walked up to the tv, and unplugged it. Word? You gonna do it like that? I was getting mad. I went and plugged the tv back in, leaving the remote in the spot that I was just sitting. She picked it up and turned right back to Dynasty. Another struggle ensued; Her gripping the remote, me trying to pry it out of her hands. And then she did it... My loving sister swung the remote control at me. This was like 1988 and it wasn't one of those small ones that are out now. It was a huge, industrial strength remote. And it hit me right upside my head.

The rage boiled in my throbbing brain and before I knew it, I was grabbing her. Fists balled up, I let loose with a left hand that landed squarely on her temple. I knew I was not supposed to put my hands on a female, but I had to assert myself as a man. No more would I tolerate her disrespect. I threw punches like a madman, some landed, others missed. I wasn't really hitting Nikki, I was punching away the years of torture I experienced at her hands. When it was over (and I can't remember who broke it up) I felt relieved. I didn't get to watch Magnum that night, but I got something that much better: my dignity!

From that point on, my sister and I have been mad cool. I can't recall a single argument after that day. We actually became friends. I remember when I went to high school, she was a junior. There was a tradition at my high school that the upper classmen would take the freshmen's drawers. It was kinda like a wedgie, except they would pull them so hard that the elastic band would break. It always seemed kinda gay to me, but that was what they did. I didn't have to worry about anybody trying me, because my sister had her friends look out for me (well, that and the fact that I dressed in all black and kept a mean mug like Cube and 'em for my entire freshman year.) When she went to college at Spelman, I used come to Atlanta to hang with her and her cool college friends. When I was a broke college kid, her and her boyfriend at the time drove to Savannah, to pick me up for a Prince concert and then drove me back the same night so I could take my finals. When I moved to Atlanta, she let me and my girl stay with her until we got on our feet. The list can go on and on. We really have been nothing but cool since that night.

Although we have our Don't ask, Don't tell policy, I know that if I ever need anything, Nikki has my back. And that goes both ways. Whatever she needs, she got it. I wonder if we would have been this cool if I never fought back and let her run over me for my entire life. And that's the story of how one night changed my relationship with my sister forever.

BTW, I know I went a little link crazy with all the YouTube joints...

Make It Rain

Or rather let it stop. I know that we are in the midst of a drought and everything, but I need this rain to cease. For the last 3 days its been raining Fidos and Mittens at night. Ordinarily, I could care less about some precipitation, but now its starting to affect me personally. What am I talking about? I'll tell you.

Tuesday night, not only did it rain, but there was a storm. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and rain came down like a harbinger to Noah to build his ark. I was at work when it started and after a particularly treacherous ride home, all I wanted to do was plop down in the living room and watch the second episode of The Wire on HBO On Demand. I turned on my computer, which is always the first thing I do when I come home, and pointed the remote at the TV. The cable box came on, but no picture. I went over to the tv, and tried to turn it on, but no haps. I unplugged and replugged the TV in, but still no picture. Turns out that the lightning strikes fried the television. I don't know how it happened since it was in a surge protector, but it happened. Damn storms. The next morning, as I switched out the TV with a smaller spare TV I had, I realized something else. The DVD player was acting up too. It was turning on and off by itself. Apparently, the electronics in the DVD player was messed up too. There is a DVD in the player, that will not come out because whenever I hit eject, it just keeps loading. That also was in the surge protector, so either a very strong lightning strike hit, or the surge protector is just a piece of crap.

Wednesday, it was raining again. No storms to speak of, just heavy rain. As I got home from work, again, I turned on the computer. I read a few blogs, started writing a post, then went to fix something to eat. When I got back to finish my post, I noticed that I couldn't save it. The cable connection wasn't working. I tried the TV and of course, the weather had knocked out that service too. There I was, sitting there with no internet and no TV, all because of some rain. I just put in a DVD and fell asleep. As I awoke from my power nap around 730, I saw the cable crews working on the pole outside my window. I didn't even hit me to write the post in Word, and then transfer it to Blogger when the internet came back until it was already time to go to work. The cable was back on, but no post for yesterday.

That brings me to tonight. It rained again tonight. At first it was not that bad, but as if on cue, it started coming down on my ride home from work. I get off work at 1 in the morning, and there is usually nobody on the roads with me. Tonight, however, there must have been an 18 wheeler convention, cuz they were all over the place. I was driving slow as hell, trying to see where I was going. The truck drivers took this as a sign to drive next to me and spray me with the moisture from their tires. It was ridiculous. It was already hard enough to see without them barrelling down on me and cutting closely in front of me. To top it off, I hit a puddle on I 285 and nearly started hydroplaning. I was so glad to finally get off the highway and out of the rain.

There's no rain in the forecast in the next couple of days, so maybe I'll get a break. I know we need the rain, but does it have to come all in spurts? I don't really feel like dealing with it for a while.

Prodigal Pt 2

Lets see... Where was I? Oh yeah...

Thursday started out with an early morning wake up call. My brother/nephew/step cousin Nate woke me up at about 6:30 in the morning before he went to school. Nate is a 6 year old that my mother and her husband adopted. That makes him technically my brother. But he is really my mother's husband's daughter's son's son. In some strange family tree experiment gone wrong thing, he calls me Uncle. Confusing enough? Anyway, let's move on because my head hurts when I think too hard about the genealogy of this situation. Nate is an extremely hyper child who doesn't understand that Uncle Rashan doesn't do mornings very well. I did my best to hide it, since he was so excited to see me, I brushed off my normal morning crankiness and kicked it with Nate before school. After he left, I went back to sleep and woke up around 11:30.

I forgot to mention one thing. This was the first time I had ever slept over at my mom's house. She got re-married 10 years ago this June, and I had yet to spend the night at her crib. On those rare occasions I do go to Savannah, I always stay at my Grandma's house, since that's where I grew up and feel most comfortable. It's not intended as a slight to my mom, but I just always wind up at Grandma's house. Well, I learned one thing that my mom and grandma's homes have in common: heat. I woke up sweating on top of the covers with a ceiling fan on full blast. I took another shower and after dodging my mother's attempts to feed me, drove across town to see Grandma. As I always do when I'm in Savannah, I took the scenic route. Not that it took much time at all, but I always drive around to see if anything has changed. About the only things that I could see that was different was a new Super WalMart across from Lake Mayer and a few more buildings purchased and renovated by the Savannah College of Art and Design (Yes, I know this means nothing to people who have never been to Savannah, but bear with me.)

I arrived at my Grandmother's house and we talked for awhile. She had been making some upgrades to the house. The ugly brown shag carpet that had been in the house for as long as I could remember was replaced and the walls were freshly painted, but it still felt like home. In fact it seems like I reverted back to the pre cynical jerk Rashan and was the sweet boy that made his Grandmother proud. Maybe, I am just analyzing too much. LOL. Anyway, she was going to get her hair done, so I drove her across town to the hair salon. It felt good just hanging out with her again, and made me rethink my whole not going to Savannah edict. When she was finished, I took her back home and made my way back to my mother's house.

When I got there, Nate was waiting for me at the door. He needed someone to play with I guess. We went out in the backyard and played basketball and ran around. Nate caught frogs with his bare hands and I watched from a distance to make sure they didn't touch me. Did I ever mention that I am afraid of animals? LOL. I was trying to tire him out so my mom could get him to sleep, but that boy has boundless energy. As much as I chased him and roughhoused with him, he never got tired. I can only imagine what my mom is going through every day. I'm only 32 and after one day with Nate, and I was exhausted. After we cleaned up, we played some more with his thousands of toys until it was time for bed. I know my mother was glad to get a break and I was glad to be of some little service. Nighttime came, and I was now left without anything to do for the rest of the night. I started getting restless and thought about going out to look for some of my old partners in crime but thought better of it. Instead, I just watched The Sopranos and The Shield reruns and eventually drifted off to sleep around 4. What would Friday have in store for me?

Okay, this is getting too long again, so I'm gonna call it a night. I'll be back tomorrow with the conclusion of my Savannah trip.

American Idol Is So Gay...

I don't watch American Idol, but I like many others am bombarded by the coverage of the show. If it's not on the internet, its on TV. If its not on TV, its coworkers and random people talking about it. I actually know some of the Idol wannabes' names even though I have never sat down and watched it. For me, I don't find the embarrassing auditions entertaining, rather they are painful to watch. Most of the finalists aren't too much better either from the clips that I've seen. They all seem to be trying too hard and over sing in my opinion... Anyway, this post wasn't designed to criticize the show, cuz it is what it is and obviously a lot of people love it. This is just one more example of how I am different from other people. My point was this... American Idol is so gay.(How gay is it?)

Are there any real male singers in the world? From watching American Idol, you wouldn't think so. The guys they have on that show have about as much testosterone as a sorority house. That dude Sanjaya??? That dude looks gay as hell. I don't know if he is gay in real life, but the image he is portraying on the show is. From his girl pants to the blouses he wears and the mohawk, ain't nothing manly about him. And he's not the only one. Some of the other contestants are way too effeminate, like the last guy to get voted off. I don't know his name, but he had spiral curls like one of my ex's used to get. Apparently it isn't just this year either, I read an article about one of last years contestants Mario Vazquez getting sued for allegedly sexually harassing another man. And lets not forget Clay Aiken, the gayest of them all. It's like being gay is a requirement for being on that show.

While we are on the topic of gay stuff, I want to talk about Grey's Anatomy. I remember when i first saw the show, I was thinking that O'Malley character was gay. If you ask people who know me, they will tell you that I think everyone is gay, but seriously, I thought that from the beginning. But now that he has come out of the closet, when I watch the show and I see him hooking up with women, it just seems really, really wrong. My inner intolerant voice is saying "yeah, right!" Is it just me? Can you watch an openly gay man play straight without at least thinking about it? I know I can't. I'm not saying gay people shouldn't play straight characters, but I know I'm going to notice it. It's like if a white actor was playing a black character or vice versa, I would notice it.

Well, this post has gone in a totally different direction than I thought it would when I started writing it, but oh well. It was supposed to be funny, but I went off course somewhere. I should really change the title, but I don't feel like coming up with something new. I just noticed that there have been a lot of gay related stories on the news lately. I hope I didn't offend any of you, if so, there's a flag for objectionable content at the top of the page. Do ya thing. Have a good weekend, and I'll get at you soon!