I have discovered juicing! Where has this been all my life? I cannot believe I didn't know about this before now. It is one of the most amazing things to ever be introduced into my life. Granted to say the greatest would actually make my life sound pretty pathetic so I stress "one of". Recently I purchase the Black & Decker Fruit & Vegetable Juice Extractor. It is perfect for juicing up breakfast, lunch and dinner, and at $29.99 (on Amazon) it was quite a steal. Now that I've entered this new world of juicing it is hilarious to see the amount of people that are also juicing or trying to get into juicing. Apparently everyone in the juicing world was swayed by the documentary "Fat, Sick and Almost Dead," because everyone person has asked me if I've seen once I mention the fact that I'm juicing. Although I did see that movie forever ago, it wasn't the second wind that pushed me across the finish line. Normally I do a full on fast for the entire month of January, but for some reason this year the fast seems so hard. It's like I've completely lost my discipline. I thought maybe I could do a a breakfast and lunch juicing then eat a healthy dinner, like fish and salad. Considering I usually meet people for dinner the most, I thought it would be the best way to make me seem like some kind of weirdo that never eats dinner. The first day I must admit I just peed a lot for the first part of the day, but it tapered off after my workout that evening. The second day I was actually pretty hungry after my spinach salad but I thought it might have been because I went running for the first time in 3 months. Today (day 3) I was kind of hungry by lunch....well actually super late lunch- it was almost 5P. So I ate some fish along with a mixture of corn, black beans and chick peas. Disappointingly I was still hungry and ate 2 Clif Kid Z Bars with milk. That's been my desert because it's chocolate but still organic and pretty healthy. I do still have to workout. My legs are horribly sore today- must be the P90X and the running combined together. Tonight I'll do another P90X and MAYBE a light yoga stretch. I just need to lose 20 pounds. Why was it so easy to get out of shape but so annoying and hard to get back in it? Naturally I am not giving up on this and praying that my discipline will grow along with the routine. The first week or two is the hardest, right? I'm not even done with week one, so it seems to early to be complaining already. Here we go..

Self Help or Self Sabotage?

Recently I've been thinking about the book, "He's Just Not That Into You," I remember reading it years ago when it was first introduced. I often refer to it whenever I find myself talking to a new guy, I suppose to mainly compare my situation to those mentioned in the book. In that and my obvious loyalty, I just began to wonder if the book really helped women or sabotaged what could've been some good relationships. Granted the topics in the book are pretty common sense, but it is true when you really like someone you're more willing to ignore or tolerate obvious signs in hopes of your own paranoia. Admittedly though, I can't help but think it's the small obvious, common sense things, which are sometimes overlooked, that cause millions of women to end up with their hearts broken. I mean in accordance with all issues mentioned, in even good relationships is there ever an excusable excuse? I imagine the perfect relationship to be one of complete openness; in which case there'd be no need for excuses. BUT I also think it takes time to get to that point in a relationship. People rarely respond to someone who lays EVERYTHING out on the line from jump street- that's frequently referred to as crazy. Relationships are hard and for the most part don't become great overnight. So with all the relationship books about unacceptable excuses and gender specific traits, are they really helping us build a relationship or sabotaging them?

Obviously there's a reason this has been on my mind and in fact my situation led me to sit down and crack open the book just to see if I myself have been placed in that fool category. While I sat there reading my particular chapter, I wondered about the stipulations, if any, to these "rules." Do these only count during a certain time frame? Can you really truly be too busy sometimes? Does locations and occupation matter? Doesn't family always trump boyfriend/girlfriend? Normally in conversations with friends I like playing Devil's Advocate, trying to poke holes in people's thoughts or most of the time just getting them to see the other side. In this case I wonder if I'm playing Devil's Advocate or just making up my own excuses. It seems like people in happy relationships are constantly working at them- I rarely ever hear someone say it's effortless. As I stated before I do believe in the issues in "He's Just Not That Into You," which is obvious since I still use it as my dating cliff notes, but I can't help but think sometimes there is a logical reason for certain excuses. I suppose it is that stubbornness and my loyalty to the book's accuracy that has led me to ponder what to believe in.

I think about my parents, who have been married for 40 years without the help of any books, shows or advice than I look at my friends who were married but now divorced. I'm curious if they really fell out of love or just got some bad advice. I'm an optimist and believe once you fall in love you never fall out of it. I think that's why I believe no one ever forgets their first love or their first crush for that matter. Unfortunately my feeling isn't shared by everyone, hence the large divorce rate as well as my fear of falling in love, because I'm convinced my heart will be broken...but that's neither here nor there. I think in the grand scheme of everything, despite the fabulousity of one's life, everyone's looking for that one person to truly fall in love with, otherwise what's the purpose of enduring the agony of dating. Two of my favorite movies are Serendipity and Love Actually, one which I spent Friday night curled on my couch watching. I think Serendipity the most because it encompasses the idea of fate, which is an optimist's Achilles' heel. At any case, I adore the journey to find their respective love and the concept they pose of just knowing that person's the one- no one goes to counseling or seeks out love advice, they just know. Of course I do realize these are just movies, but they surround the one thing in the world that it seems no one truly understands- love. With all of this in mind I'm intrigued by an interesting thought, if we're all so busy listening to everyone else are we sometimes failing to listen to our own hearts.

Pop Culture Junkie

Have you ever wondered why Tori Spelling played such a pure and celibate girl on Beverly Hills 90210, but in every Lifetime movie was like a complete slut? Naturally my thought is that it had to do with the fact her dad created 90210 and I'm sure the idea of his daughter looking all hoed out just didn't work for him. Then I'm led to wonder what was the reason behind Tiffani Amber Theissen's split-show personality? Her daddy isn't a show creator. Kelly Kapowski always annoyed me- the whole typical high school stereotype that the cheerleader is the most desired and the most popular girl in school. I do, however, have to applaud them for trying to humanize her by making her poor, working at The Max and a brunette instead of a blond. At any case she was always little miss goody two shoes on the show, but once again in every Lifetime movie she was skanked out. Am I to be led to believe Lifetime was a kind of early Playboy for TV... in a sense the person knows what they're getting into but once they actually sign on for the project, the freak comes out. In the end Lifetime has to take the credit for breaking Tiffani out of that Saved By The Bell image, because every since then she's played nothing but skanks, even being brought onto shows just for that purpose- hence 90210 (Tori/Donna connection). Perhaps that's the way it's supposed to work out in the cycle of television shows. Another example with an opposing parallel is the transformation of Kelly Bundy on Married with Children. Christina Applegate played an utter moronic slut with absolutely no misconceptions on that to now the witty, fashionable, amnesia woman Samantha on Samantha Who. It's an intriguing thought isn't it? If you start out as a slut on TV then you end up a well rounded person later and vise versa...ummm, interesting. Although with that said I have to at least appreciate the moderate progression into hootchiehood by Kelly and Donna as opposed to the jump off the cliff action made by Elizabeth Berkley (Jessie Spano). All and all I think I just had a strong love/hate relationship with Saved By The Bell. It was so entertaining in its time that I couldn't not watch it, but it just had those flaws that bothered me. I didn't understand why Lisa only had a boyfriend for one episode and had to settle with the fact that her only real relationship was with a dork that no one would date until Violet came along- another Tori/Tiffani connection. And I'm going to completely dismiss the episode when she and Zack kissed just as the show did when it aired. Again, however, I had to appreciate the fact that the creator at least made the one black girl on the show the fashion forward, rich girl of the group- nods to Sam Bobrick for that one. She honestly was the first not poor black girl I had seen on television outside of the beloved Cosby kids.
Ahhhh, the Cosby Show. I remember watching the Cosby Show and thinking five kids was too many kids, but I also dismissed that thought since Claire was a lawyer and Cliff was a doctor, so clearly they had enough money for a house in Brooklyn and five kids. But with that said, how the hell did Al Bundy support his family in a two story house in presumably a nice area in Chicago on a shoe salesman's salary? Granted I have heard of their commissions being pretty good, but I don't know about it being that good. At least with the Simpsons, they lived in Springfield, not as expensive as Chicago, and he worked for a chemical plan, which I would imagine doesn't pay too shabby. Not to mention they never had to pay for clothes either, a paradox that was occasionally pointed out. I can't recall Kelly, Bud or Peg not having money to buy something and Kelly didn't wear nice clothes or hardly any clothes by choice. Since really for the majority of the show, Al was the only one with a job they had to get the money from him. I suppose I wouldn't have thought this to be a stretch if Al worked at a better shoe store instead of a store small enough that it only employed him and Griff. No one can tell me they were raking in the dough in that spot. I do, of course, appreciate the Bundy's for being the first (if not only) show to have their characters go to the bathroom on a regular basis. In a way I almost believe Rosanne might have been the most realistic show on television in that era. I mean her and Dan went through jobs like Kelly Bundy went through guys and it wasn't at all unusual for the electricity to be turned off in their house. Frankly if you had to use a television show to formulate an image for your future, Rosanne had to be the best because if it didn't teach you about getting a good job and budgeting your money nothing else was going to. Not to add if you ever found yourself in that sticky position of mismanaged money, she gave some pretty good tips on how to prolong a payment- like not signing the check or sending the cable company the check for the water bill and the check for the water bill to the cable company. Throughout the duration of the show under no form or fashion were you put in the position to ask yourself how are they paying bills because sometimes they weren't. In a way Rosanne was in the 90s what Good Times was in the 70s, only with a change of venue and some ethnic matters.
I do realize television is purely for entertainment; therefore there's no reason why I should have questioned any of this in the first place, but isn't TV supposed to represent us, its viewers. I believe this to be true, which concerns me because that means our life now is to have LOTS of babies, get a reality show in which you either dance or extreme diet the baby fat away before divorcing your mate (if you have one) then becoming the center point of a mass dating game where you end up married or at least engaged again just to wrap it all up in a book including your battles with some sort of addiction or disorder that finds its way on the New York Times bestsellers list. Oh well now that I've gotten that all straightened out I guess I should get to work on finding that fertility doctor.

Titanic

While I was working for my marketing company, I met this guy. Although to say this guy is just an understatement...this guy was like a Greek God- tall, beautifully unflawed caramel skin, immaculate pearled white smile with a running back’s body and a cloak of tattoos. He was the description and embodiment of Adonis. Ironically I only remember him just appearing out of nowhere when we met. I would have never imagined a guy like him would be interested in a girl like me- not to down play myself, but he could've easily gotten any female he wanted. So when he approached me, I was a little surprised, but intrigued all the same.
About month after I had given him my number, he called and wanted to know what I was up to. I had gotten tickets to the WuTang concert but I didn't have anyone to go with...look how things work out. I invited him to go and we made plans to meet up at his house then drive to the venue together that night. The night was interesting. I learned some small facts about him, including that he had a daughter but never made any mention of her mom and ignorantly I never thought to ask. Once Protect Ya Neck was over we left to return to his house. We stood in the kitchen for a while talking about Super Head, who was a feature article in the magazine I was flipping through while leaning on against the center island. He fixed us two Cape Cods right before we walked up to the third floor of his townhouse to the media room. We watched a few minutes of television and partially finished our drinks then went to his room. Obviously I stayed the night and I would stay the night three more times within that following week.
About two weeks in and on my drive to work, I received a phone call. I didn't know the number so I didn't answer it. I didn't answer it until about the 15th time it rang. It was a female asking to speak to me. I didn't know how nor did I at least recognize the voice. She introduced herself as Philly's wife...I didn't know what to think, utter than complete disbelief. I sat on the phone listening to her talk about their relationship and how she came to find out about me and "others" before me. She sounded so timid like I imagined her in a house dress, bare foot with a rag over her hair. I felt bad for her, but at the same time I felt insulted that she was calling me when I had no idea about any of this being possible. When we hung up, I called Philly but he didn't answer, which slightly made me feel like it was confirming everything she said.
I got to work, only to look overcome with stress. I've never been involved in a situation like this. I've never even attempted to talk to someone's boyfriend let alone their husband. Coincidentally Philly was my owner's best friend, I have to tell my boss/friend what was going on. I was relied the information that Philly is not married and in fact just had a very young and very crazy baby mama that he didn't even want to know where he lived. As she mentioned that I was reminded how the girl on the phone kept pressing me about where he lived. Philly called the next day to apologize. He reconfirmed everything my friend told me and I felt relieved like my soul had been restored after haven been a vampire for two days. It was awhile before we hung out again, but when we did it was us all over again. Granted every now and then I got these random phone calls and it annoyed the hell out of me, but I liked him and I liked being around him.
About three months later he went out of town and although I texted him more frequently than I should have, we spoke to each other less and less. I finally realized he may not be the one for me and stopped contacting him at all. The following months I moved on, but occasionally thought about him just never contacted him...I needed to get away from him. He had been my bad habit and I needed to break it.
It was seven months until I saw Philly again. He had walked into our club in the same story book fashion I remembered the first time I met him. This time the feeling wasn’t quite there, I didn’t want to just eat him up that very moment, which was definitely different from the first time. As he passed by an old friend came up to talk to me for a while. We stood there talking, laughing and completely oblivious to the fact that Philly was standing at the patio double doors smearing his face in the glass at me like the lady from the Mervyn’s commercials. Fifteen minutes after my friend made his exit, Philly came in telling me how he was trying to get my attention and thinking I had replaced him with a new guy. I laughed because honestly it was funny but because I couldn’t picture him being truly all that concerned with my being entertained by someone else. He stood there wooing me for a moment, but I just wasn’t where I was with him anymore. I had passed through to the thought that a relationship just wouldn’t exist with us anymore and was strongly battling with the idea if I could just have sex with him with no strings attached. Could I go from trying to make a relationship to just sex? That night I went home- alone.
Another week passed before he came back into the club. I had already made a pact to myself that I would not and could not fall into him again. He came in with his beautiful white smile and gorgeous face and I smiled. Somewhere in there I started to feel the idea of my pact being pushed to the side and damn I think I wanted him. As usual he came talking to me about randomness. Doug E. Fresh was our performing artist that night and we had all talked about actually watching the show. When Kim came up to tell me he was just about to get on stage, Philly was behind me with his arms around my waist telling me about how he had thought about making me cum and how hot it would be to screw me in the back of his Cadillac Escalade parked in the side back lot. I laughed and told him no. As we separated, he walked toward the club entrance and I started my way out the patio door, my pact became nonexistent and I whipped around to hear the words, “come on,” as I grabbed his arm. His face was in a state of shock just as my mind was as I realized I was actually walking out the front door and toward his car. Leading him, I had no idea where I was going but I knew I couldn’t turn around or I would come back to that voice in my head that kept asking me what the hell I was doing. Eventually I slowed down enough for him to get ahead of me and lead me to his car. Once we got in he pulled around to the very back edge of the lot and parked. I crawled in the back, pulling off my Gap jeans and Victoria’s Secret underwear while he exited the car before getting back in through the driver’s side back door already bared down to his boxer shorts. He began kissing me over the back seat as he climbed over. I laid with my head nearing the top of the flattened third row and I’m legs stretched out toward the rear door. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to only be 5”1 as in this moment. He told me how he missed this (not me) and how good I was. In that moment I truly understood the mentality of the Samantha Jones character in Sex in the City. I’ve always kind of wished I could be like her- uninhibited, unattainable, sexual and unapologetic for it. Although on occasion I think I thought I got it but this time I knew I had it. I didn’t feel dirty, I didn’t feel like something was going to come of this, honestly I didn’t even really care if I ever slept with him again or not. I had accomplished what I thought I couldn’t- to be with him again without thinking about being with him again. With my legs draped over his forearms and the strands of my hair dangling toward the floorboard, I felt satisfied hearing him tell me these things and frankly just not giving a shit either way. We drove back to the front lot when we were done and he told me to call him, I kissed him and responded with a “yeah…right”. I scooted out of the car and briskly walked back into the building eluting to nothing more than the idea that I had been outside on the patio lost in the crowd of people watching the concert on stage. I kept a mysterious smirk on my face the rest of the night like some unspoken badge of empowerment. I didn’t call him and I didn’t feel the least bit compelled to do so.
It was three months later when Philly walked in around 12:45, one o'clock. He had frequented a couple times the weeks prior and of course in regular Philly form, hinted to me coming over and staying the night with him, but I didn't have any reason to, more so no real desire to do so. That night was different and I wanted to stay with him. I wish I could pinpoint what made me want to stay with him that particular night, but I don't know I just wanted to. We had laughed and giggled about it for periods of time on end. He left telling me to call him, but I just kept shaking my head no with a flirty cheerleader smile on my face. I got to my house around 2:20, took a shower and called him to see if he needed some company. Within thirty minutes I was headed to his townhouse. We walked up the flight of wooden floor stairs and into his lowly lit bedroom. Being it that I technically got dress with the notion that I would be taking my clothes off pretty soon, I had little to take off. I pulled off my jeans, men's button down shirt, bra and underwear and laid them in in the oversize armchair sitting in the right corner. As I crawled onto the bed, he was busy synchronizing his iTunes on his new Mac computer on the side table next to the bed. He gently slid in between my thighs, kissing my stomach and moving upward to my chest and my lips. When he stared at me it was almost like the way we were. It was sweet and in a way it made me nervous. I couldn't get sucked in him again. I felt like I had accomplished something and knew I could have sex with him without needing to be with him. Being in his bed, in his house with him inside me was like reliving a moment I had failed the first time. For the first while being in this position I analyzed every word he said to me and over thought about every word I said in response. I caught my breath and I remembered this wasn't real. He meant every word he said and none of those words included wanting to be with me, missing me or liking me. I knew this was what it was and what it always would be- a relationship of convenience. I stopped thinking so much and began to enjoy it for what it was. I had an incredible orgasm before falling asleep curled up next to him. That was the last time I was with him.
I think about him occasionally and wondered why I never thought to take a picture with or of him. In that thought, I’ve suddenly become the old lady on Titanic that tells the director Jake only exist in her mind. When I heard that in the movie it seemed so sweet but now that it’s me it just seems stupid. Why didn’t I ever think to take a picture, I take pictures of everything else. I truly have to admit, that last night we were together I woke up in the middle of the night and looked over at him. He looked so cute- laying on his back with his right arm fallen over his stomach and the sheet grasp in his left hand. I wanted to take my phone off the bed side table and quickly snap a shot, but I had two thoughts 1) the utter embarrassment I would suffer if he woke up with me hovering over him with my camera phone like I was setting up his audition picture for Janis Dickerson’s modeling agency and 2) I didn’t want to take his picture like that. It wasn’t real- like our relationship wasn’t real. Looking at it wouldn’t have sparked that warm, happy feeling you get in your stomach right before cracking a happy memory smile on your face. It would have just reminded me of what I wanted us to be, this unobvious cute couple. It would have reminded me that we weren’t real, we were in the moment, we were Tonya and Philly separately and every now and then we were us, but only in that moment. In that moment gazing at him sleeping beside me, I just wanted to enjoy us for that night that it lasted and us wasn’t pictures. In a way I do wish I had a picture to look back at him, but now I suppose he does only exist in my memory.

Runner in Crisis

So perhaps I cursed myself by taking such pride in my achievement of running my 4 miles the week before last. After taking a three day hiatus (Friday- I had prior plans and was dead tired, Saturday- I drove to mom & daddy's house, Sunday- drove from mom & daddy's house, watched the Oscars & the lights go off at 1045P which equals no running for me ). The following Monday I stumped on my track like a faith soldier ready to run. I started out with "My President Is Black" by Jay Z pumping on my iPod only to be achingly halted by the excruciating pain of my shin bones feeling like they were going to jump right out of the front of my legs. I had to stop to walk after only a mile and a half. My face was utterly distraught and you know for about a minute I think I caught myself looking around at the surrounding lofts and houses to make sure no one was looking and pointing at me in my defeat. I don't understand what happened, I mean I was kicking some ass prior to this little set back. I wrapped that night with only running about two miles, which true still good but a complete disappoint to the previous record. Tuesday I thought I would get on that horse and try again. I love the feel of the run and under no circumstance was I going to let this bone problem stop me. Ironically I ended up working handling a client late & by the time I arrived at the track the light were off....I went home & worked out on the balance ball, which fabulous in it's own right, but damnit it's not a run!!! Wednesday was the night to regain my confidence, which was sharply sinking and making me want to rejoin my one run a week slacker group (no there's no such group, but had I stopped running I would've created one out of shire irony). This time I started slow, walking the first half mile. My face gleamed as the dead air hit it when I broke into a run only right before my shins caught on FIRE with pain once again. WTF?!?! I stopped after seeing the two and three quarter mile mark...what is wrong with me, or better yet what is wrong with my legs??? Is it a big conspiracy to keep me from running? Thursday became a make or break moment. Despite the 40 something degree weather, I piled on my running pants, thermal, long sleeve shirt, mock fleece sweater, Ranger baseball cap and Nike's to meet the me friend come foe. I was once again triumphant!! I started with a brisk eighth mile walk then began my run. The cold wind chilled my face and froze my hands, but I was in it...I was in the zone. I thought about all the things I normally focus on during a run but couldn't the last few days ago. It was beautiful!!! Friday bought the same glorious resolute. Despite the lights turning off on me midway, it only made me run faster. Saturday naturally bought a longing sense of tiredness and my publicist hat, so I had to attend a show for my friend and PR clients. Sunday involved sleeping, community service (not mandated by the court), cleaning, transporting of the TiVo and working on a project for a client. Tonight may very well be another triumphant moment only if I can make it before the lights begin turning off... I just don't understand what the hell happened those days?? Why were my legs so against me? Please if have any suggestions, please, please, please, please feel free to express them. I realize this is the first time I've actually ran 4 miles in one shot (well actually knowing it anyway), but I've grown to love running. Do you understand the countless number of people I get to make fun of in my head without feeling guilty or how my receipts I'm created for dinners, how many outfits I'm designed, guys I've proclaimed scrubs and my recently how many times I've avoided the temptation of calling one guy? Running has become very serious in my life- it's like having a free therapist!!! I was so bewildered by my situation I had to ask for some advice...so here's my request for help if anyone has any. I will keep you posted on my progress from tonight....thanks for listening friends!!!

First Timer

Okay so I think I'm just starting to get the idea of this blogging thing...so really it's not supposed to be something thoroughly thought out but just random thoughts in your mind...right? At any account, I figured I'd write something. Just about everyone has notes on their pages and yet I'm supposed to be the writer in my little group..hmmm?!?! You know this is the first time I've had just about a week to hang out and first let me say I have enjoyed each and every moment. Second I have not spent this much time online since the internet was first discovered. I'm learning there is so much stuff on the internet. I almost feel like I just found Narnia. Today I realized I officially broke in mom & daddy's new couch because I think I've only moved from this one spot to eat, use the bathroom and occasionally walk through the house talking. I've developed the habit of waking up, grabbing my laptop and immediately searching the web for anything and everything for HOURS. I will no longer laugh at the crack heads on Intervention because I'm beginning to understand how it sucks you in and you can't stop. What am I going to do when I have to go back to work on Monday? Perhaps I should start slowly winging myself off now so I won't be going through massive withdraw when I realize I can no longer sit on the couch with my eyes overwhelmingly glued to my laptop screen all day...Ohmigosh, I need an intervention don't I? Damn Facebook and Vimeo! Who are these pushers that just sit around thinking of clever things to put online and suck poor, unsuspecting working people like me in? This is their way of converting people from corporate America isn't it? I get it- I go to work on Monday and realize I can't search the web anymore then I start to feel like I'm behind because I don't know what's going on online then I start to break out in sweats and panic attacks before leaving my office to seek out a WiFi spot to rejoin the online community. Who are these people? They should be watched...I need to get the Blackberry Storm immediately just so I can keep my eye on them throughout the day and while I sit at my desk and underneath the table at meetings...I mean you never know when they're going to strike! The way I see it, I'd just be doing the world a favor. You never know how many other poor smucks they're pulling into their web with their technology. I know one day I'll be thanked for my big brothering!

What's Our Blog About Again

Will, this is for you!

So last night while we were on the phone discussing my 4 hour marathon phone call with HP, which basically ended with me realizing I should be a MAC and not a PC, you mentioned me writing a blog for you. Of course I agreed as I do with most things you suggest me to do, but sadly I completely forgot the actual point behind the blog. I realize and understand for the most part blogs don't have points, but for some reason I feel like this one did and I feel like in the heat of the moment it was good one. Throughout the day I've sat at my desk staring at people, as I most often do, reviewing our conversation in my head, but for some reason I am only able to remember the conversation being had at the time the words, "you need to write a blog about that," were being uttered and nothing leading up to it. For a brief moment I even thought maybe that was the point of the blog, nothing- but then I only thought that about a minute ago when I finally gave in to the fact that I can't remember what we talked about. Perhaps one of those aforementioned statements came while we were talking about March Madness. Considering I was slightly engulfed in ESPN at the time of that conversation and rudely, partially listening (sorry), I have the idea you might have said it at that time. I also think it was brought up while you talked about the new logos now appearing on the NBA jerseys and when I first learned you know Spanish (slightly impressive). -For everyone else- Apparently the NBA has started putting the name of the team in Spanish on the jerseys. Well, the problem with this is it's not really in Spanish, it just has the word El before the team name...ie..El Bulls...hmmm?!?! Granted please keep in mind, I haven't seen this new diversification but I highly trust Will so I've taken his word for it. I noticed in the conversation and because we were actually having this conversation in the first place that this is a bothersome issue for Will. Basically his reason was the fact that putting El in front of an English word does not make it a Spanish word...totally understandable! He felt as though children will start running around saying El in front of words as if they were speaking Spanish. Naturally we had to remark the fact that just about every comedian in the world and many everyday people have made the passing joke of doing just this when pretending to speak Spanish- perhaps politically incorrect, but admittedly sometimes funny. I've come to the conclusion that frequently our conversations involve New York (imagine that), Memphis being Memphis...oh and which I've recently learned is also very country-ghetto; therefore has it's own vocabulary- ie..safetivity...yeah go look that one up. However an alarming fact came up during our conversation and that was that Will has NEVER seen the Godfather! Okay maybe it is just me that has seen that movie about 4.8 million times and will continue to watch each and every time it comes on AMC, but I have never met anyone who has never seen that movie. For about 2-3 minutes I was speechless and unable to formulate a complete sentence. I hate that I've forgotten our blog topic, but now in hindsight I'm wondering if this might have been a test to see if I would remember today or just so I could forget and Will can have bragging rights for the moment. At the same time, I also wonder if our blog topic was personal and in that being the case something I wouldn't write about out of shire respect considering aside from me all the people Will and I normally talk about are the psycho females he finds himself occasionally intertwined with. Granted they are respectfully nicknamed after their residing state, as we discussed I am still fearful of one of them hunting us down one day and shanking me out of a jealous rage. At any account, I am sorry I've forgotten our topic, but I hope this one will at least make you laugh for the time being!!!