Guilty Pleasures

All Rights Reserved 2014. Totsymae.com

All Rights Reserved 2014. Totsymae.com

I can’t tell you how ecstatic I am that Friday’s here. I hope the weekend draaaaags by. I’m serious. I stopped by Aldi’s to buy a weekend snack of Tortillas and French Onion Yogurt Dip. I’m not having any mercy on these chips and dip either, okay? I worked hard and hey, this is my treat to myself. Plus, as I speak, there’s a low rumble of thunder outside and I’m gonna tuck myself under this afghan I made and do whatever I feel like. Well, I can’t do but so much sitting down and under a blanket but I’m okay with that.

Too, I’ve bought a few graphic novels to chill out with. I’m gonna draw, sleep, watch TV and enjoy the rain, if it does that. I must also tell you folks, I’m not making too many moves on account of this morning, I caught a back cramp. I know. How do bad things happen to good folk like me and you. You and I. Whatever. This is not an English class. Well, everybody gets an unfortunate chance in life and I have to say, this cramp thing is one of mine.

All I was doing was walking over to turn off the lamp this morning so I could go work that job. You know, the one I get paid for. Well, I stopped dead in my tracks and eventually made it to the switch, out the door to the little vehicle I drive all of 12 minutes to get to that there job and walked around all day like a piece of cardboard. I had to plan how to use the restroom, how to bend over to pick up dropped stuff and all these other inconvenient thoughts on account of this back thing. I was too scared to sneeze even.

Anyhow, I made out okay. The chips and dip’s gonna make me feel better.

 

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(Rolling Eyes) Why Is She Onstage Now?

 

If you’ve been visiting Totsymae dot com for awhile, you know I’m a faithful Dr. Phil watcher. I know. He’s a showboat. Kinda rude. Sometimes arrogant. And powders down his bald spot. That’s okay. Every one of us has that potential, so let’s move past all that, can we?

Folks, if you don’t know already, I’ve been wanting to sit in Robin’s spot in the audience. I mean, first of all, I’m not sure why she’s there other than to keep other women folk off her man. I get it but as far as I’m concerned, she can wait for him backstage after the show’s over. As it is though, she’s taking up a seat in the audience, which could rightly be mine if I were to go to Cali.

Now, I’m not wanting Dr. Phil, just the seat, okay? I don’t wanna have to go all the way to Cali, wait in line and the last seat I could’ve had is occupied by her.  Folks, I wouldn’t wanna commence to duking it out with Robin over no chair she shouldn’t be occupying. For that hour, Dr. Phil belongs to us and so do those chairs. Why ever does she need to be in his face ALL the time? Are there insecurity issues she needs to go to therapy about? I mean really, Robin!

In addition to the audience chair, folks, Robin’s now onstage running off at the mouth as if she’s somebody we wanna hear. We don’t, do we? I thought not. Matter of fact, I should be onstage. I can talk just as much nonsense as her. Plus, Dr. Phil wouldn’t have to come home to me after hanging out with me ALL day and roll his eyes. You know how he does it when he’s sick of his guests onstage. I’m pretty sure Robin gets the same business after going to work with him, eating breakfast together, knocking on his dressing room door, walking on the set with him, eating dinner, and then going to bed. It’s ridiculous.

I understand that video has absolutely nothing to do with this post. The same applies to Robin on the Dr. Phil Show, okay?

 

On Being Drama-Free

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I don’t know about you but Drama is not my middle name. Now, I do believe as long as there’s breath in you, you’re gonna have it on some level. How you handle it can escalate or quell the stress and longevity of it. I don’t care if you’re 25 or 75, you’re gonna have your share of drama. You may even be an inventor of it, or the stirrer, or kinda on the slick side in starting it. I tell you though, some of the most theatrical folk will swear to your grave, they are at peace with the universe and in a good space and all this other new age whatnot. Whatever.

If you’re, say 75, down with sickness and whatnot, unfortunately, that’s a level of drama. It may be ’cause you didn’t take care of yourself for 50 years, so in a so to speak sorta way, you brought some drama on yourself. Your head is all wrapped up in the sickness of your body and every time you’re on the phone with somebody, you’re talking about what you ate, this and that ache and what the doctor told you. Understand too, you can take real good care of your body and stuff just breaks down anyhow. It’s life. It happens. So be it.

You can also be a drama stirrer. I can’t rightly name a specific occasion where I’ve been the stirrer but I will say I’ve been an inventor on some level. I mean, if you’re gonna be involved in anything, there’s nothing like getting in on the ground floor of opportunity. I’m just taking responsibility for my role, okay? I can’t rightly say that’s where I am now. It’s not my nature anyhow. I’m just so cool, know what I mean? I could be going through the roughest time and you’d never get an invitation to know ’cause it’s really not your business. You feel me?

I’m amazed and quite baffled at the level of drama senior folk keep up. I had a senior friend awhile back go through a divorce at 65. I asked her, “Y’all sure y’all can’t work that out?” “Naw,” she told me. You see, she’d married the husband a second time and he wanted somebody else. Ended up moving to Alabama and living with a woman he still couldn’t find happy with. Now, my friend’s around 75 and single. Just out there in a pool of senior men folk who don’t drive at night, talking about bowel movements and going on walks for dates. Something she can still complain about if she’s in the market to get hitched again. You’d be surprised to learn how many women are single and looking at that age. I imagine the competition is stiff and still not quite drama-free. That’s life now. It’s happening. So it is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s Okay If You Call Me Bossy

"Yack" Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2014 Totsymae (www.toshfomby.com)

“Yack” Watercolor on paper. Copyright 2014 Totsymae 

I’m disappointed. A little confused even. I’m trying to figure out what’s so wrong with calling women bossy. I mean, some are. It’s not the worse thing a woman can be called. How can you ban a word and why would you want to?

You know what, women folk? Sucking meat from teeth. Y’all are really starting to get on my nerves. You whine too much. You’re way too sensitive and you always want something. Look, you wanted equal rights, so now you get a little of what men folk been getting. Don’t get out here in the work world acting all tough and soon as somebody call you a name, you go to flinching like some damsel in distress. I mean, this whole banning thing sounds either premenstrual or menopausal. Take your pick according to which stage of life you’re in.

Flicking lighter to fire up cigarette. It’s always something with you women folk. You want contraception, the morning after pill, men to help with domestic stuff, a woman president (which I’m fully and whole-heartedly against, by the way), planned parenthood and yaddah freakin’ yaddah. You just don’t get a word removed from folk vocabulary. I like the word bossy. All it means to me is a person who gets things done. I mean, if you women folk are against the word and all and you’re proponents for equal rights, get it banned for men too. Better yet, get prick banned and all those other derogatory terms that mean so much worse than bossy. What about slut? Those kinda folk work at the office too, you know. 

And what happens if the word’s banned and somebody says it anyway? Will it come down to something like a sexual harassment suit? I can’t imagine being cross-examined or being involved in such a case. But you know the root issue, right? This wouldn’t be a conversation today if women folk had just stayed barefoot and pregnant and somebody wasn’t trying to sell a book. Scratching unshaven underarm.

The Path to Being a Vibrant, Healthy Woman

"Beach Hat: Violet" Copyright 2014 Totsymae

“Beach Hat: Violet” Copyright 2014 Totsymae

Over the past coupla weeks or so, I’ve heard some very disturbing news about women. Not me but you. I mean, I’m a woman and all but since I don’t fall in this category, I feel duty-bound to help you out. I hope you don’t mind. I’d want somebody to reach out to me if…Let’s get right to it to get you the help you need.

Women, so studies say, are taking more sleeping pills than anybody. Over 60%. I’m prepared to offer you an alternative, okay? If you’re on the high-strung end, and you know who you are, try jogging around the block in your neighborhood before bedtime. If there are loose dogs in the area and you’re not, per se, a dog-type person like myself, that should make you run even faster.

You may have to utilize some untapped skills or what you learned from childhood, like climbing a tree or do what they do in horror movies. For example, haul it home fast as you can but before you get there, fall, lose a shoe and say, “I can’t go on.” I will advise that it’s best you go on ’cause you’ll be alone and won’t nobody give a damn more than you, okay?

If you find that you can, make it to the door, try sticking the key in, drop it, not once but several times ’til the dog gets closer and closer. You may wanna try this as a mental exercise rather than actually doing it. I don’t know about you but just thinking about being in that situation has exhausted me. Should you decide to go on a trial run to see if this activity will wind you down in the evenings, keep in mind that those rottweilers don’t play and you don’t wanna get yourself chewed up or anything of that nature.

I also understand women folk are depressed more than men. ‘Cause of our body make-up, women internalize. We just take in so much and even create unreal imaginings that men have no idea about. They’re just so aloof, aren’t they?

Men folk, on the other hand, externalize. Therefore, we’ve got feelings they can’t begin to comprehend. Oh, they put on a good show like they’re sensitive and all but they really aren’t. They’re only appeasing you ’cause new agers are telling them all will be right with the universe if they do. Don’t believe the hype, folks but neither should you put too much focus on this part of the post ’cause I don’t want you losing more sleep than you already have or start giving the significant other the side eye.

This has been a public service announcement for women’s health on behalf of Women’s History Month. Keeping it real and light for the better good of human sanity.

Belle of the Ball

"Prfile in Blue" Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

“Prfile in Blue” Acrylic on paper. Copyright 2013 Totsymae

Contrary to popular belief, I have me a little life down here in this south. Come two days time, I’m heading myself to a ball. Got my dress yesterday, tried it on in my bathroom where I can see all of myself from every angle and folks, I do declare on a stack of Bibles, the Torah and Qu’ran, I look hhhhhhoooot! I ain’t never lied to you, so there’s no point starting now. Okay? The truth will set you and a diva free. Alright?

This is how hot I was, folks. I was brushing my hand over my dress while I was looking at my divaness and folks, I thought I was gonna catch fire. You hear me? Saw myself a spark and had to come outta that dress for fear of blowing myself right on up. I have to at least make  it to the ball and have an audience if I’m gonna go kaboom. Like, it means nothing if I’m standing in the mirror all by my darn self. You feel me?

I got my do done and and it’s on like a bag of popcorn and Skittles. Okay? Got ole Beatrice over here looking at me cross and sideways with her Hollyhood self. I may have to get her to cover my story and write about my fabulosity ’cause to not do so would make absolutely no sense. Heeyyyy…As the queen of Hollywood gossip would say, ‘Don’t be mad. Be glad somebody as…’ Well, nevermind me trying to rhyme some silly words together. I’ll let Beatrice, the current mistress of undercover hatin’, give you the scoop…Umph…I’ll be darn if I ain’t over here sizzling, folks. Somebody, call 911.

Dear Robin

-a-night-of-honour--

Do you realize Dr Phil’s been on the air for about 10 years now? That’s good for him making all that money and whatnot but that says a whole lot about folk out here in this world. They’re messed up in the head and narcissistic about it.

And with Dr Phil being on the air that long, well, I reckon that chair Robin sits in is mighty special and auction-worthy. That’s 10 whole years and counting of the same behind sitting in the same seat for a what? Sideline celebrity. Okay, I admit I’m hating a tad ’cause I watch the Dr on the regular and I’ve been wanting to uproot Robin outta that seat. Not that I want the Dr, ’cause I don’t, I don’t reckon, but I want to go to that studio over in Cali one of these days and with me wanting to occupy a reserved seat, I see a potential problem. Not for me, particularly but for Robin. I’m real sure she hasn’t been confronted with this kind of challenge. Well, there’s a first time for darn near everything, ain’t it?

I figure my first approach to the chair is to act like nobody’s sitting there. If that fails, which I’m sure it will, I’ll  get to the studio early and put a chair in the rear, where no cameras are, with her name on it. Maybe the Dr can highlight me and ask how to draw a perfect circle instead of asking Robin stuff she acts like she knows about.

I’m real sorry to interrupt your broadcast, Robin but I think it’s downright critical that the show spotlights how to draw basic shapes on occasion. After all, you ain’t talking about nothing the world needs to know. As a woman myself, I clearly understand why you’re there but I’d appreciate you more if you answered the phones. Better yet, you’d be doing me a real favor to be a good hostess and pass out some cookies and milk while I teach those who tune in how to make a happy face while you sit in the back somewhere.