Never Got Around To It

My Nay-Nay was a notorious quirky woman. She held a grudge against the Dodgers because they traded from Brooklyn to Los Angeles, that happened in 1957. And you would never bring up Jennifer Aniston in a conversation unless you were begging to have a two hour conversation about mediocre acting. She bought anything that was on sale, even if she already had it. She was a tough woman from New York who would not take any crap from anybody. Not even cancer, in which she had to show up everybody by beating not only breast cancer, but she had to fight lung cancer at the same time. And when they said she wasn't going to make it through the surgery (which was in 2003) she HAD to throw it in everyones face by making it for 8 more years.
I noticed that when someone dies, everyone throws around "never got around to it". "We were going to do this but we never got around to it." "We were going to do that but, we never got around to it." What if we did get around to it? What if we did everything with the ones we loved? At the end of the road would it be easier to let go? Or as living beings, would we find something to make us want to hold on longer? Is it programmed in our brain to not want to let our loved ones go?
I think back to my friend's funeral. He had Cystic Fibrosis and passed away when he was way too young, But at his funeral, it wasn't a heavy feeling you usually feel. It was light and loving. His family knew he could breathe and he wasn't in pain. His dad gave this amazing talk about passing your test in  life and how his son just passed his test so fast that God was ready for him. I'd like to think my grandma's test had lots of answers such as:
Sardine Sandwiches puts hair on your chest (as a young girl this thought terrified me).
If you insist to your grandchildren that you are an alien, they WILL believe you (glad you finally found your way back to the mothership NayNay).
Yogurt is a substantial meal.
And:
Work hard, love harder, grandma's hands are the best to hold because they are always warm, rag curls are the best done by pulling the hair as hard as possible (which now I thank her for my extremely strong scalp). And stand for what you believe and never back down. Oh and the more Virgin Mary's you have in the house, the more points you'll get in heaven.
I'll miss you Nay Nay. I'm proud of everything you have done. I hope one day I can be half the woman you were. I'm so happy you are finally with your daughter and Pop-Pop and your mom and your dad. I bet George and Ebony were soooooo happy to see you. Emily, I'm not so sure if she made it up there...fine...I bet Emily was happy to see you too (I don't know how the devil dog made it up to heaven, but I don't get to choose who goes up and who goes down...whatever). I'll catch you on the flipside. I LOVE you!
Alicia Pink
03/27/39-03/19/11

Making Messes...Not Just For Kids Anymore.

So I woke up at like 8:30 this morning with no alarm clock and no reason to be up that early. It is times like this that makes me feel like a grown up. Until...I had to make coffee.
Since starting the new job I have become kinda addicted to the stuff. I have like 2 cups at work. So this morning I wanted to use my stepdads coffee maker (yay for living at home!) and make me some here. Well..
First of all. Our coffee maker at work doesn't require us to put water inside the coffee thingy jig (my terminology gives you hope for the rest of this story yes?). All I have to do is put the giant filter in the other thingy jig put the coffee in the filter and put the coffee thingy jig under the first thingy jig. Makes sense? Follow closely. Well. This morning about 2 minutes into my "feeling grown up" coffee making I realize...where is the water going to come from. Yes folks I didn't know until "googling" (thank god it's not 1994 for I would be SCREWED) that water had to go in the back of the coffee maker. So I hurried and turned the coffee maker off and added water. WELL. Now I have coffee spurting out of the spurty thing and its getting everywhere but the coffee pot. So after I fixed that all seems to be better. But now after pouring my coffee, I have a mess to clean up. The kitchen looks like I let my 4 year old nephew have a field day with the coffee maker. While cleaning it up I kept asking myself "why do you always have to learn the hard way?" And that started me questioning myself in more deeper subjects than coffee making. So while my inner bully kept ragging on me all of a sudden this voice rang out (I like to call it my inner Bronx lady) and said "HEY! Sometimes that's a good thing! What did people do before Google and Owners Manuals huh?! Yeah they learned you big jerk! And where do YOU get off telling us that we're stupid? You're in this too bully! And learning things the hard way makes it so we don't make the same mistakes AND we have entertaining stories to tell at the next soiree. So stop raining on our parade pal and maybe instead of dirtying all the dish rags cleaning up coffee grounds USE A PAPER TOWEL YA PUTZ!" My Inner Bronx Lady can throw down. And I only used 2 dish rags before making the more sensible decision to use paper towels. My mom might not be too thrilled but oh well.
So in the end does it really matter how we learned something? Or at the end of our roads and ready to leave this world, does it only matter that we learned it? OR, at the end of the line is it the journey of how we got there? I believe it's the journey. I may learn the hard way sometimes, but I'm going to look back one day and have some awesome stories. Some that will make me laugh, some that will make me cringe. But as Miley Cyrus sang "It's not about how fast I get there, it's not about what waiting on the other side, it's The Climb." Now that's some deep coffee.

Flood Pants, Gorgeous Shoes and Letting Go

I effing hate the pant industry. It's like nobody over 5'7 is allowed to wear pants. I hate shopping for pants. Shopping for dresses: love it. Shopping for shirts: delicious. Shopping for skirts, shoes (ohmygodshoes), purses (orgasm), jewelery, coffee, food: Where do I sign up? Pants: How 'bout instead I gnaw off my right arm? This rant started off because of work. Work has a special relationship with certain clothing company. Certain clothing company gives us (employees) our uniforms. Certain clothing company thinks that Work will not hire anyone with a 35'' inseam or higher. So I, Miss Sasquatch, am left with waiting for the flood. So Boss says "go find some pants yourself" I would rather not wear pants however that may not fly with Work. So madre and I hit up JCPennys to look for some khaki pants (since I quit working at Walmart like 2 years ago, khakis make me want to vomit but since I'm being paid to wear them...I complain not.). JCPenny's also thinks that no one over 5'7 exists and sends Miss Sasquatch on her way with baggy slightly short fugly khaki pants. I feel like a fat flight attendant. But I digress.

Petite people and Plus Size people freak out about their limited "apparel selection". YOU HAVE YOUR OWN DAMN SECTION IN EVERY EFFIN DEPARTMENT STORE!!! You see the "women" section. You see the "petite" section. Do you see "Gangly Tall People With No Booty" section? No sir you don't. And if I hit the jackpot and find the perfect pair of pants I have to practically sign my first born over to afford them. I love being tall, I love wearing heels and being tall. I EMBRACE the fact that in large crowds I can find the holes to navigate through them faster. I LOVE my long mile long legs and how they look in shorts. It's taken years to finally say "Hell yeah I'm tall and I love it biotches!" I would even date a guy a weeeeeee bit shorter than me. But not too much shorter.
On to my next topic. I have decided (kinda) that I am going into the wrong field. Really. I decided this when I went on my bi-weekly visit to Kohls to see my GORGEOUS Elle Enchant Platform Heels in Coral. I love them. I dream about them. I can't afford them. So like a mother who can't afford her children I go visit them. I try them on. and admire them. They look good on me. I walk around the shoe department in them. Shooting people dirty looks when they look at me like I'm a lunatic because I have been trying on the same pair of shoes for 20 minutes (don't judge me people). I will have these shoes one day by the way. They will be mine. Or my heart might just snap in half. Anywhos. So while on my bi-weekly visit to see my Carrie and Samantha (because Carrie and Samantha from Sex and the City would TOTALLY love these shoes) I realized...I am the biggest girl. Not big as in full figured but as in personality wise. Anyone comes near me dirty or smelly I will squeal. Kinda. When I was looking at the different uniforms they have in law enforcement I kept thinking "Omygod so unflattering." I had this Angelina Jolie in Salt (which she is pretty damn delicious in btw) mentality about law enforcement when in fact, it's nothing like it. I find this realization quite annoying. I seem to change my career choice and my college major more often than Lindsay Lohan changes her jail sentences. And I feel like a total loser when I tell people about it. When I told my mom I thought I was going to toss my cookies. She may have not said it, but what I heard coming from her was: "You are a loser. You are like a 7 year old child. I swear I didn't give you paint chips to eat when you were a child. How did you get to be such a loser?" That is what I hear from everybody. I won't even tell some people just for the sake that they don't laugh at me and say "Ahhhhhhh...Well I expect it from Arielle." So I started doing some thinking...out of the jobs that I have had what one did I love the most? Macy's hands down all the way. I loved retail. I loved being around clothes. OK so maybe retail management would be good. Alrighty now, what am I good at? Selling stuff, making up lame jingles, Creating events, planning shtuff. So maybe PR or Marketing or Advertising? I am also amazing at buying stuff as weel but seeing as there really isn't a job where you get paid to buy shoes I kinda have to cross that one off the list. So right now it's Business. With either a Marketing or Retail or Media emphasis on it. But I am determined to find my place in the world. This blog is called Fingerprints RIGHT?! So I will find my place to leave my fingerprints DAMMIT!

Moving on to something bittersweet. Today I realized it is time to let someone go. The saying goes "when you love someone you let them go" right? Well the person has been like a sister to me. But now I see that it's time to let her and her time go to someone else. I was so used to the two of us being single together. But now she has a BF and she needs to be with him I guess. I went to see her for a little bit and I haven't seen her in over a week which is rare for us. And even though I had about 2 hours to hang out with her. She spent 30 minutes of it outside with her boyfriend. Which was kiiiinda like a slap in the face. My thought is: If he's there alllllll the time and I'm there for 2 hours and haven't seen you for a week, can't you unglue yourself from his hip and chill with me for a bit? This thing happens to me all the time. So I'm used to it. But I guess I thought it would be different this time around. Maybe I'm the only person with the idea of "chicks before dicks". I have always put my friends before any guy. I would never ever leave my friend in the dust. Yet every time I'm the one left making friends with the tumbleweed. To me guys may come and go but your friends are always going to have your back. So for right now I'll leave my friend alone with her guy and when she needs me she can call me and I will be there. It's crazy to think that a month ago we were bff's and inseparable but today it was like talking to a stranger. Maybe I'm just not used to change. I'm really happy that she found a guy and they are happy together. But I feel that she's half of two not one person anymore. And maybe I'm just not used to it yet and one day I will be and this whole thing will be silly to me. OH wells. Holy pooper its 3:21 am I need to get to bed. Goodnight everyone. And good night Samantha and Carrie. I will see you two soon!



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