Lifestyles of the poor and nameless

I did my taxes (finally!). I even managed to get them out on Saturday as opposed to sweating over them on the last possible day. I've put it off for months. Initially I was shopping for a person to do the taxes for me. I got a few referrals (a couple for people in far off places like Long Island or the Bronx) but even the ones nearby seemed kinda pricey. I finally found a cheap person on recommendation from a friend. My friend said he's actually an accountant at the IRS. Insider tips? Perhaps. Sounds more like a conflict of interest, but that's not my problem.

I called the guy to find out about his service. He said he charges $20. Sounds good so far. Next thing he says is that he uses TurboTax. Well what the heck? I could do that myself. Then he very seriously asks: do you want this done the "straight" way? Or do you want to bend things a little? I wouldn't make anything up, ya know...just use maximum limits where possible. Uh...no thanks buddy. I'm not trying to have you come back and audit me next year.

Since I had to file PA, NY AND Federal, I just kept procrastinating. I finally finished them all and was sealing the last envelope when I caught a glance of an old scratch paper I had used a few weeks ago to do my NY tax....turns out that I miscalculated on the return I was about to mail off....that little snafu would have cost me about $200 in refund money. So I eased the envelope open again and redid the form...only to realize that I needed to fill out two MORE forms to accompany the NY refund....long story short: taxes suck!

Hi and bye...oh yeah...I'm *fine*


It may seem like I'm not posting....and that's because I'm not posting here...but somewhere in the blogosphere, I've told quite a few stories. I can not provide the exact location here, but you're a smart lot, you'll figure out where to find the man tales in the blog world....

and if you don't, you can always email me for the address.

Recently I've been getting emails/IMs from guys that I haven't spoken to in a long time (2 years in one instance). The basic premise of their messages is "hey. How are you? Would you like to hang out sometime?" One guy (the one whom I haven't spoken to in 2 years) even went so far as to attach a recent photo of himself.

What is up with the folks crawling out of the woodwork after all this time?

I'll admit that there may be one or 2 people that I wonder about from time to time. Maybe it's pride or maybe I just prefer to let sleeping dogs lie, but I would never contact these people. I like to have a sort of finality about my encounters so that things are pretty predictable. When it's over, it's over....you shouldn't be popping up years later and interrupting my mental flow...whatever that may be at the time.

GC says that I have the "it" factor and that's why they keep coming back. As flattering as that is, I must disagree. Why is it that only the people I wasn't interested in keep on coming back like acid indigestion? The folks that I was interested in on any level never or rarely return. No, GC...I don't think it's the "it" factor that keeps them coming back. I think it's the fact that they must be cleaning out their phone books for the spring....and they're still single so they're mining for prospects. Hmmmm.

Pretty Ricky's gone. He went back to PA today :-(. We had a really good time these past couple days. Dad got over the whole "king of the castle" issue (not a moment too soon). On Sunday morning Mom took Ricky and I into the kitchen and taught us to make fried bakes. I think Jamaicans call it "fried dumpling". I've made them before, but I was a little fuzzy on the details. Ricky loved them :-). On Monday he came to work with me in the morning. He hates my morning commute....he was wheezing like an old lady...lol. He met my co-workers and then I turned him loose on Manhattan. He came back around lunchtime and took me to a Japanese restaurant in the area.

We left the restaurant and started walking back to my office. I thought I left my scarf in the restaurant...Ricky volunteered to go back and look for it while I went back to the office. Awwww. Turns out I had left the scarf in my office. Oops.

The revival was excellent by the way. My Godmother and other friends of the family were there and they all got to meet him. Yikes. As they said in The Color Purple "we be kin now".
We stayed up until 3am this morning talking. I am SLEEEEEEEPY right now, but I enjoyed my Q.T.

Today I woke him up when I was going to work (he couldn't do the commute 2 days in a row). He surprised me by showing up at my job before he went back to PA. He brought a card for me, a stuffed toy kitten and a thank you card for my parents. *Sigh*

Yeah...I'm corny...I got a little misty-eyed when he left. :-(.

This week has been quite an interesting ride. All I can say is: TGIF! In the meantime, here's a brief recap:

1. I got to sit on the interview panel that selects law students for summer internships at my job. It is soooo different sitting on the other side of the table. It's a little scary to see the way interviewers trash-talk about resumes, cover letters, writing samples and candidates in general....and know that they must have done the same thing to you. It's also a bit sad that some interviewers see this as their chance to exact revenge for all the hellacious interviews they've endured. Case in point: Don't you hate when you go for an interview and then you never hear from them again? You rack your nerves preparing for the thing, you drive yourself crazy trying to get there and maintain your composure, you take time off work to get ready, endure the process and then they can't even be decent enough to send you a rejection letter. I'd even settle for a piece of paper with only the words "no thanks" on it.

After extended discussion about our 2 candidates, we decided to make an offer to one of them. I asked the other panel members if we were going to send out a rejection notice to the other one and they said "no. You know how this is. If you don't hear from us, then that means you didn't get it. That's life." Ugh. It only costs 39 cents to send a letter. Geez.

2. The step instructor at the gym was a workout nazi. This was my first time taking a classs with her. The class was called turbo conditioning...and they didn't lie. This woman had us doing jumping jacks for a minute straight and then jumping rope for another minute and then back to jumping jacks then running 2 laps on the indoor track...and that was the warmup. And she was very fussy about people coming in late/leaving early. HELLO...it's the gym, not the military. We have lives, ya know.I was too scared to leave early, but my quadriceps had left a long time before I did.

3. I met my first rude client. BITCH! All I can say is "beware of eminent domain."* I understand where she's coming from: the City is taking 100ft of her property due to road widening so that they can lay utility lines in the street, etc. They are offering compensation for said taking, but it's not like she can stop them from taking it. I am not personally responsible for the taking, I was just trying to gather background info for my supervisor so we could help this woman and her husband through a harrowing ordeal. I understand that she's been calling people and getting the runaround, but that ain't my problem. I mentioned to her that I was trying to help her, but I needed her to take care of some basic things first (like a title search). She wasn't trying to hear me. All she wanted was to know that her 100 year old wall would be replaced after the construction, and that her precious shrubs wouldn't be harmed. I was not in a position to provide those assurances, but I promised to get information and get back to her on Monday. After 40 minutes of listening to her shite, the bitch hung up the phone on me. ARGH! A plague on both her houses! If I were a mean person, I'd be hoping that they keep her shrubs and wall but find a dollar clause* in her title. Hmph. That'll teach the bitch to be rude to me when I'm trying to inform her of her rights.

and as if that weren't enough

4. Dad is mad at me. There is a revival at my church this weekend (you didn't know Catholics could have revivals huh?) featuring a hilarious priest from Trinidad. Pretty Ricky would like to attend the revival, but it's Monday night and it won't end until sometime around 10/11. Since he was going to come over on Sunday anyway, the plan is that he'll just stay at our house Sunday and Monday and go back home on Tuesday morning. I asked Mom if it was OK and she said yes. I assumed that this meant it was OK with Dad as well (usually when it's not, she'll say: "sure, but go ask your father") Since Dad is forgetful, I figured I'd remind him about it as the weekend approached. That would be today. I stated--- no I didn't ask--- that Pretty Ricky would be staying over this weekend. He didn't raise any objections or make any comments. I thought it was all good. I get home and find that Dad isn't speaking to me. Then Mom says "Why didn't you ask your father about Rick staying over this weekend?" HUH? So I tell her that I (apparently incorrectly) assumed that since she OK'd it, it was OK with him also. She tells me that he's mad that I didn't ask him about it. Fine, point taken. I should have asked. But does he have to be a 5 year old and run to my Mom and complain? He feels like I usurped his authority and spoiled his whole "King of the Castle" role by not asking him about it. Couldn't he have just brought this to my attention instead of staging a sulking hissy fit?Ugh.

and you're probably thinking "how old are you again?"

Yes, I'm 26 and still have to deal with this shite with my parents. I have friends my age who are married and ready to have their own children and I'm still here asking permission to have company. The irony is that my parents are always quick to say that we act as though we're guests in someone else's house, as opposed to residents of the house....but then they pull these stunts....


*The Dollar Clause allows the City of New York to take your property and provide compensation in the amount of ONE Dollar. Eminent Domain Procedures Law...it's a hell of a thing. How can they get away with this? Well....If this clause was recorded in your deed at any time, then you are deemed to be "on notice" of this possibility. It's "caveat emptor" from there on out. Title search, anyone?

So.... I went to get my eyebrows done in Manhattan today cause Pretty Ricky's coming to town tomorrow and I didn't want to scare him away with my bushy eyebrows. I've been going to the same Russian lady for years to get them waxed but I had to give her up....when I started going to her, it was $6...after several management changes, it's up to $10.40 (because they now include tax) + tip. That's almost the price of a wash & set in Brooklyn if you catch the special. No way should eyebrows and a hairstyle cost the same amount....but that's another story for another day.

I started going to this threading place on 35th (recommended by Metamorphosis)...they do a decent job and it's $7 (didn't they used to advertise $5 threading at that place?!). They also offer other services like pedicures, manicures, facials and waxing...they'll wax anything.

Anywho...I'm in the chair with my back turned to the door, and the woman is ripping out my eyebrows (I think it hurts more than wax, but that's just me) and I hear this woman come in and say to the man at the counter: "I want to get my pu$$y waxed". She didn't whisper either. The guy is obviously a bit flustered, but he says "oh...a brazilian?" and she says (in that ghetto twang) "I'ont know what you call it, but I wanna get my pu$$y waxed." I think they pushed her off to a back room after that because I didn't hear from her again.

That's today's ghetto episode. Tune in next time for more "tales from the 'hood".

I'm still alive....yeah y'all. I thought I'd just let you know, in case you were still passing by this dusty blog. Where have I been? Well...I get off work around 5pm and then I hit the gym. Sadly, the fat has taken me over. But...I keep going to my classes. I'm spinning, biatches! Put down those chips and go get on the treadmill. :-)

See you later.