I've come to realize something about myself dear readers and it ain't pretty. I've come to realize that I can only listen to people talk for about 2.5 seconds before I start to blank out and stare off into space drooling with an occasional "Uh huh" to give the illusion that I'm paying attention.

I'm not proud of this lack of ability to pay attention to people but I have to admit, sometimes, it's really not my fault.

Listening to my coworker talk (once again) about the 125th random dude she met on the internet warrants a blank stare off into space with my mind wondering all willy nilly, 'Did I turn off my curling Iron? Oh my goodness, I think I left it on.' SHIT!.

"Tee, did you hear me?"
"Oh, um, yeah, I sure did."

Listening to my (used to be) gal pal bemoan not being able to find a good man and how she "won't take any crap from any guy" for the 12,445th time warrants a blank stare off into space with my mind wondering aimlessly, 'I have to go to the grocery store and get some milk, toilet paper, soap, popcorn...'.

"Tee, what did I just say?"
"Huh? Girl you know I heard you, stop trying to
quiz me."

Listening to a male friend of mine constantly berate his ex's because they won't listen to him and abide by his rules warrants a blank stare off into space...'I need to call my dentist to make an appointment. I hate that bitch of a receptionist though. Maybe I'll get that teeth whitening... Do I have deodorant at home?'

"Tee, you think I was wrong?"
"Huh? What did you say? Your cell just broke
up."

As you see, it's not always my fault but dagnabit it's becoming habit.

God help me.

My weekend was a very interesting one to say the least. I’ll fill you in on part of it now and the other shenanigans later this week.

I’ll start off with the breaking news flash that I had a date. Before you get all excited keep reading.

First, his appearance led you to believe this guy was a mild mannered, unassuming, Mr. McGoo (pitcured above) type. He had these dorky glasses and was very thin and probably the nerdiest, uncool guy you would ever want to meet.

I thought to myself, ‘Ok, he’s not my type but I’ll roll with the evening anyway because that’s what I do….I’m a roller.

Anyway, the more he talked the more of his Charles Manson personality came out. It was scary to see this transformation. I kept thinking to myself, ‘Oh my goodness, I’m on a date with a serial killer!’ I can totally see him cutting my body up into a million little pieces and putting them in trash bags.

He began telling me how a friend of his that he hadn’t seen in 20 years showed up out of the blue at his custody hearing a couple years ago and testified on his ex wife’s behalf against him. He felt betrayed. His friend expressed to the judge how Mr. McGoo had a quick temper. Hmmmmm. Red flag #1.

Then he tells me how he hates the dating scene especially clubs. He, apparently, asked a young lady to dance at a local night spot and she declined but a few short minutes later another guy asked the same young lady to dance and she accepted. He felt so angry that after she got back to her table he felt the need to go up to her and "cuss her out" for not accepting his invitation. Red flag # 2.

He then proceeds to tell me about not one but 3 coworkers he had to “cuss out” because they angered him in some way. Red flag #3.

According to him, his ex wife used his kids against him to the point where he does not have any contact with his children whatsoever. Hmmmmm…. Red flag #4.

As he is talking and moving from one story to the next I’m just taking this all in and notice that his facial expressions change rapidly from happy to mad as hell and it’s actually quite frightening to witness. Red flag #5.

I ate as quickly as possible and ended my date with Charles Mansion with the mindset that hell will freeze over before I ever lay eyes on him again.

This is what a hotel maid, Allison Rupp who worked at Yellowstone National Park's historic Old Faithful Inn in 2004 had to say in a recent article on Yahoo regarding the cleanliness of hotel rooms.

The best guests sleep in
Three simple letters could inspire the "Hallelujah" chorus: DND, or do not disturb. One sign hanging on a doorknob, and the day's work was shortened by half an hour. Two signs? Pure heaven, but only if they remained there until my eight-hour shift ended—otherwise I'd have to circle back and clean the rooms. My daily list of 15 rooms (out of 325 in the hotel) consisted of DOs (due out) and Os (occupied), which in housekeeping lingo meant the guests were scheduled to check out or were staying another night. An occupied room was less labor-intensive (making the beds rather than changing the sheets saved me 20 minutes), but there was always the possibility the guest would stay in the room while you worked. One man watched me clean his entire room, from scrubbing the toilet to emptying the trash—and told me at the end that I was "building character." Condescension is not nearly as encouraging to a maid as a couple of dollars.

As long as it looked clean
I cut corners everywhere I could. Instead of vacuuming, I found that just picking up the larger crumbs from the carpet would do. Rather than scrub the tub with hot water, sometimes it was just a spray-and-wipe kind of day. After several weeks on the job, I discovered that the staff leader who inspected the rooms couldn't tell the difference between a clean sink and one that was simply dry, so I would often just run a rag over the wet spots. But I never skipped changing the sheets. I wouldn't sink that low, no matter how lazy I was feeling.

A bacterial wonderland
I was disgusted by the many guests I came in contact with through the things they left behind: the hairs on the pillow, the urine on the toilet seat, the half-eaten cookie, the stained sheets. One woman had soiled her sheets so thoroughly that we had to toss them in a biohazard bag—they could never be used again. Rooms where young kids stayed were the worst, with food ground into the carpet and piles of used diapers in the trash. That kind of demoralizing mess could take 45 minutes to clean up. Most maids wore rubber gloves when they worked, but mine were too big, so I discarded them. Unsurprisingly, I got the flu twice.

Not for love — or money
I didn't know maids received tips, so it took me weeks to realize that the coins left in rooms were an intentional gift. My tips were paltry: I almost never received more than $1, and at times guests left religious pamphlets. One day, however, I was shocked to find a crisp $100 bill lying on a table. Although the generous tip put a little spring in my step and compelled me to do a better job that day, it didn't change my work ethic for long. I apologize to you now if you ever stayed in one of my rooms. You deserved better. But if housekeepers were paid more than minimum wage—and the tips were a bit better—I might have cleaned your toilet rather than just flushed it.

Be careful when you stay at hotels people. Yuck!

One of my all time favorite artists (and crushes) has always been Prince. I love that man unconditionally and as soon as he is done with all those beautiful supermodel types he'll realize they're not good for him and it's me he really loves and come to me but I digress.

I never thought I would ever run across a human being that didn't know Prince's work, namely Purple Rain. I didn't know such people existed.

I was talking to a few people I work with and we somehow got on the subject of Prince. I, of course, mentioned my undying love for the movie and sound track Purple Rain. This young chick had the audacity to say to me, "What's Purple Rain?"

I looked at her for a minute because I could not process what she had just said. I have never heard those words spoken, EVER. Then I gave her a look that said 'Are you freaking kidding me?'

Needless to say I feel ancient right now. I can not wrap my brain around the fact that there is actually a generation of people that do not know about Prince's work. Wow!

Little prepubescent twit!

When you are out on the dating scene you inevitably come across a few frogs before meeting your prince or princess. The meeting of said frog just so happened to a girlfriend of mine this past weekend.

She met him over the internet on one of those dating sites. She thought his picture was adequate so she decided to give the guy a chance. She contacted him. She waited with baited breath to see if he would respond as she reached out to several guys prior on this particular site but non responded back so her ego and self esteem were a little bruised to say the least.

The very next day as she is checking her email she sees one from the guy she contacted the day before. YES! She thought. They did the prerequisite email back and forth before they decided to exchange phone numbers.

After talking over the phone they decided to meet a few days later for coffee at a nearby Starbucks.

My girlfriend arrives and scours the place but does not see him so she takes a seat and waits. A few moments later she spots a guy that looked a lot like the guy from the net so she motions for him to join her. He sits for a second and she sees almost immediately that he is not really her type but she decides to soldier on. They move the party over to the nearby restaurant that resembles a Boston Market just a few doors down.

Things are ok. They laugh and joke. Things seem to go very well except there is so chemical reaction. No spark. Nothing. Oh well, maybe he could be a good friend at least she thinks to herself.

A few days later he calls my friend and asks her out again. She agrees thinking that she’ll give it one more chance. He suggests dinner at a restaurant close to her home. Bonus for her. They meet and again, great laughs, good conversation but no spark. The check comes and of course he pays. They talk about events going around town the next day and decide to meet up and enjoy the beautiful forecasted weather and hang out.

They meet up the next day as planned. My girlfriend buys the tickets to the first venue they attend and he buys for the second venue. They then decide afterward to walk to the Inner Harbor in downtown Baltimore to enjoy a nice lunch. My girlfriend decides to pay for lunch since he paid for dinner the night before. This was actually pretty calculated on her part. She, by this time, had already decided to dump the poor fella and didn’t want him to think he was stiffed for an expensive dinner so she paid this go round.

After lunch they walk to their cars. He offered to drive her to her car as his was closer and hers was about 4 blocks down the street. She agreed. Now they have to walk through a shopping center to get to the garage. They spot a Coach store and my friend just had to go in. There is no way on God’s green earth she would ever pass up going into a Coach store. It’s just not going to happen. Anyway, naturally she sees a beautiful bag she just had to have and proceeds to the register to pay for it. “$400.38” The sales lady exclaimed. My friend reaches into her purse and pulls out her debit card and pays. They walk out of the store.

It’s been 4 days and my friend just called to tell me she still has not heard from him.

Is that all it takes to rid yourself of undesirables?

How many of you have given an ex a second chance? Even after years of separation. Usually I don’t. There has only been two occasions where an ex has gotten a second chance with me only to end up back to where we were originally.

I ask this because recently an ex from a little over two years ago has gotten back in touch with me after all this time. I’m kinda on the fence about him.

We broke up because he was never around when I wanted him to be and I began to feel he had someone else. I told him this during our conversation last night and he assured me that was not the case but of course you know me, I am always suspicious.

I am not sure if I can trust him or not. We had a cool thing going on in the past but I’m not sure it’s enough. I wonder why he thinks things would be different this time around.

Maybe I’ll just ride the waves slowly and see where this lands me. Maybe not. Hell I don’t know.

OK, I had to interrupt regularly scheduled blogging to post about the ridiculous comments I heard today from Etta James.

How dare she make such nasty, mean spirited, inflammatory remarks. First off, for her to say that President Obama is not her president is just plain ignorant. Where does she get off slamming a man that has done so much for his community. He has done more to help people and bring about hope then she could ever dream of in her sleep.

Secondly, for her to slam Beyonce was mean and out of line. Beyonce is a talented entertainer and she had just as much right to sing for President Obama as anyone else.

I am so livid about these remarks that I can not adequately express myself.

This goes beyond ignorant and out of line. Her ass needs to go sit down and crawl back under the rock from whence she came.

I have lost so much respect for her ignorant ass. Bitch!

I have a coworker that is constantly talking about her weight. She complains about being too heavy and how she wants to get rid of all that weight and so forth.

I stopped by her desk earlier and why did I find her popping diet pills at the exact same time she's cramming mini chocolate donuts from Tastykake down her throat?

There's nothing wrong with that picture at all is there?