I've been "asked" to blog tonight. Suppose I have something to say. Like how it pained me today to spend $60 on bras - four bras, no less. I really think the bra makers have worked out some sort of conspiracy with retailers. Women need them to keep the "girls" controlled and they are usually over priced. Retailers have a captive audience (no pun intended).
I was also in a hunt for slacks while at the mall. To my horror, the dryer has been shrinking my clothing, particularity noticeable around the waist area. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the over-indulgence of the holiday stretch between Halloween and New Year's - yes, I have a few more gatherings this week, then on Monday, it's back to belly dance class and the gym! I know in a month I can shed the extra pounds, but I'm heading to Philadelphia next week for work and need something presentable and warm.
While listening to a National Public Radio (NPR) report last week, particular wording by the broadcaster caught my attention. She said something to the effect of, "a man who was convicted of inappropriately touching a little girl in a park." Enlighten me, is there ever an "appropriate" time when a man touches a girl in a park?
While on the topic of stupid things being said recently, last week at our Christmas, er, "Holiday" party, I was sitting at the table with most of the African-American folks from the office. I recently learned that one our co-workers was born and lived in Ghana. I asked everyone, "Hey! Do you know that so-and-so is from Africa?"
One of my co-workers, who can be very sassy and direct, replied, "Well duh! Can't you tell by looking at him that he's from Africa?"
Of course, my fascination wasn't the color of his skin, but that he lived in Ghana and shared some of his experiences and traditions with me. I thought it was an appropriate time to share with the other co-workers, but they already knew, I think...
And the most recent random interlude was on my flight between Atlanta and Buffalo last Friday. When I travel, I'm the passenger who has the book out and open while radiating vibes saying, "don't talk to me." The young man sitting next to me couldn't read the signs. He introduced himself after settling in and we discovered that we went to the same high school - almost decades apart - and he was a friend of my brother-in-law. How random is that?