A Question from Genesis

burger with watermarkHave you noticed, and perhaps you have ’cause I’m no genius, that blogs are like Burger King? You can have it your way or not at all, if you’re vegetarian. Personally, I like that concept but some kinda way, I’ve not been lucky enough to have it ALL my way.  I’m gonna ask you this since it’s on my mind but first, I want you to also ponder Genesis. You know, Adam and Eve.

They had everything going for them and we, of course, can see that in hindsight. Wasn’t like we were there to stop’em but you get what I’m saying. Anyhow, I was sitting in my car today and told Little Totsy, “I sho’ nuff wish I could sing.” Just as quickly as I thought that, I was jolted with the thought that I should be thankful I’m even still around and to appreciate what I can do. You see, Adam and Eve weren’t thankful either. I mean, I know that Eden was designed for them to do exactly as they did since they were made in the likeness of God and whatnot. But let’s erase that, okay?

In essence, my desire to sing, which will never happen in this life if you could hear me, is a form of complaining. I probably can’t sing ’cause I’d be arrogant or a whining diva or have some kinda addictive behavior. So, I came to the conclusion that I am who I am ’cause I am. It’s that simple.

Like Adam and Eve, I became ashamed on account of how I was thinking. But thankfully, ’cause I was outside and driving my vehicle, sitting at a red light, I already had clothes on. The question I wanna ask is have you ever wondered how Adam got his get-up from Eve after she stitched up the clothes. I figure, being southern and all, she did the sewing. Or am I the only one? And if my imagining is right, how did she wind up getting his fig leaves to him since they were ashamed?…Hmmm.

Singing in the Comeback Choir

I really can sing, people. Just wait, Totsy will definitely pay for throwing me under the bus. I won’t waste another thought on her, however. How are you all doing? I’m just leaving choir practice myself. As for my gospel debut, as soon as I opened my mouth, a slow belch preceded, found its way into my notes, drifted into the air and knocked on a rusty, metal door. I’ll earn your ear before the rapture, okay?

And believe it or not, that’s all I have for you today, people. I may have caught myself a case of Larrygitis. What do you think?

 

Blessedly Yours,

Beatrice from Apartment 7B

 

My Illustrious Fascination with Stupidity

In real life, I’m kinda serious. I can be on the silly side, and on another side, I can be like, whatever. I think, and of course I’ve given this serious, meditative thought, but I believe I’ve a fascination with stupidity. Now, I don’t do silly things like breathe heavily into the phone to my exes, mow the lawn in a bikini or none of that. It’s been a thought but time should be cherished and not wasted, which doesn’t match up with my gravitation to reality TV.

Yesterday, my sister was telling me the show Oprah produces on her network, Iyanla Fix My Life, is looking for folks to fix. Once upon a time ago, I was cool with this concept but on the serious side, I told her I’d have to be paid to air my dirty laundry; i.e. a reality show. Nobody’s getting all up and inside of my business for free, know what I’m saying? I also told her any issues I felt I had, I’m gonna go use my insurance to get worked on. If that’s not logical, you tell me what is, okay?

I, folks, feel like if anybody’s gonna profit off my issues, it should be me. If my issue is what’s making the show, that means I’m the star, however foolish I’ve been but I should be handsomely compensated to keep somebody else’s business profitable. Now, I will say, I like that show, as I do Dr. Phil. Having been a dedicated follower, I’m problem-free, other than the fact that I watch reality TV. It’s a bittersweet dilemma and I wonder if they’d encourage me to stop watching them.

Now, believe it or not, folk tell me, “Totsy, you’re so smart,” and I’ll think, Yeah, right. In the times we’re in now, along with my reality, smart has little to do with opening a book but rather, if you can get on TV and catapult your success beyond a yearly raise. It’s not sitting in a cubicle and working overtime, which you only see half of. Or going to work when you’re sick ’cause these days, your job is dangled over your head like a bouquet of Hershey’s Kisses. Uh uh, folks, it’s all about finding your inner fool and acting on it, which my dear folks, I’m giving serious thought to.

 

(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

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glitter and Gold

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

There were no winners in the Got Game? contest. That means everybody lost. I’m so sorry. This loss must be akin to losing the lottery on a Saturday night after being stood up. Oh well, maybe next time. Although you couldn’t guess the song, it was fitting for Beatrice on her rise to fame and all. She needed a reminder ’cause she’s real good at inflating herself. Now, many of you liked the voice behind the music and her name is Rebecca Ferguson. I don’t watch talent shows but she was on The X Factor and is British. I so happened to discover her on Youtube but she’s been around a few years. The title of the song is the title of this post. At any rate, you were introduced to a talent you liked, so you’re a winner after all.