Uncommon Sense...

Hopefully I can do this once a week...hopefully.

I'm a busy working girl in the big city now, and my morning routine is quite ritualistic.

While riding the train, I must make huge executive decisions that could possibly affect the direction of my (and everyone else's) day. These decisions are crucial and must be made as carefully as possible.

Today's dilemma: Dunkin' Donuts or Starbucks?
Dunkin. Done. See, that wasn't so hard? Or was it? - I'll probably hit up Starbucks later on just to let them know they aren't forgotten.

I really wanted hot tea, as the weather is getting colder and I'm not a huge coffee person. (It gives me gas.) TMI? Well, it's my blog. Although I like Tazo Passion tea from sbux, their regular tea is very earthy and I wanted something a bit smoother. The tea at Dunkin' is blissful. With just the right amount of sugar and lemon, your tongue is immersed with the sweet nectar that can only be complimented with one thing: a bagel with butter.

Now, I must say, my first job at the ripe age of 15 was at Dunkin' Donuts. I know how to make the perfect cup of coffee, I know how to toast a bagel according to a person's specifications. It's not rocket science.

Lightly toasted: Take it out of the toaster early.
Toasted: Let it toast for its normal time.
Well toasted: Toast it again for a bit more.

THIS IS A WELL TOASTED BAGEL.


Do you see how the darkened (slightly crispy) edges stand out from the rest of the bagel? Note the color of the flesh. The mahogany overtones blend well with the general tawny color of the bagel when it's toasted. This is perfection.

Why did it take the person toasting my bagel 3 times to get this right?

This is what set me off for the second time this morning. (The first was when a young whippersnapper stepped right in front of me and the 6 inch gap between the train as the doors were opening.) Anyway, I know the economy's slow and customer service just ain't what it used to be, but I have high expectations when it comes to my breakfast! I don't want anyone to think that I'm singling out this one person, because my simple bagel request seems to be an ongoing issue with Dunkin' Donuts.

I've had people think a well toasted bagel meant this (or some just did it that way to intentionally piss me off) :

In which I am obligated to give them that look. C'mon son, would you really eat your bagel if it looked like that? I don't understand what is so difficult about putting a little more love into my bagel. If I ask for my bagel with butter "well toasted" and the person after me orders their bagel with butter "toasted", when you take them out the oven, WHAT THE HELL WOULD POSSESS YOU TO BEGIN PLACING BUTTER ON MY BAGEL WHEN IT LOOKS JUST LIKE THE NEXT ONE? I feel like common sense is becoming more and more uncommon these days.
Variance, people. The state of being different. It's what turns good into great.

Harlem.....Gentrified.

At this rate, it looks as if I may be creating one meaningful message a month.

I'm focusing my attention on the new BET show Harlem Heights. Its supposed to highlight the friendships between a group of under 30 african American adults.

The characters are a bit stereotypical, but I'm not too surprised because its BET. As I watch it a bit more, I realize that the premise is similar to Baldwin Hills, (if you're not familiar with it, wiki it) with an older cast. Its based in Harlem, which I assume is to attract the attention of the "urban" audience. Living not too far from Harlem, I had hopes that the show would actually display people of substance that I can relate to.

The show starts during the election. They center on the election of the first black president, and how its important for people our age to make a difference in our community. Yada yada yada. Not to say that this isn't a historic event, nor that I'm impervious to being an asset to our communities, however, tell me something I haven't heard.

Despite the stereotypes of the "hood" dude, the stank prissy chicks, the baller turned businessman, and the activist, I was willing to give Harlem Heights a chance. Until..........

I see these mofos passing chicken in a KFC commercial......

I'm done.

Valentine's Day

Right now, I'm sitting on the train. No, I'm not going to see my "boo", I didn't just come from seeing my "sweetie", I'm going home. I woke up this morning, went to a lenghthy chapter meeting, and now I'm heading home. As I sit on this 2 car Amtrak, I take time to explore my surroundings. The guy behind me is talking to his girl about the "surprise" he has for her. Probably herpes. The guy who got on 2 stops ago looks like he just came from a romantic inexpensive date with his girlfriend. Looks like he probably doesn't get lucky very often. The train passes by hotels-parking lots full-people with hopes of making a baby, only to come out hungover and highly disappointed.

As I arrive at my station, I see girls with huge heart shaped balloons, guys with bouquets waiting at the top of the escalator for their long-distance loves to arrive. The lights in the station glow orange, disguising my eyes which are red from crying on the train. This isn't my first holiday alone, in fact, I'm quite used to it. You'd think a person would have run out of tears by now, but not me. The pain singes my heart just as much as the day he left. The thought of him keeps me up at night. It makes me sick to my stomach to imagine him spending this day with someone else. The selfish part of me thinks that if I'm alone today, then he should be too. The rational side of me thinks the exact same thing. I can't stop thinking about where he is, what he's doing, and if he thinks of me as much as I think of him. I don't want to spend so much time thinking about him, but I kinda like it,
because its assurance that I want no one else but him. My heart can fight for this man forever. My mind can't keep up with all my heart wants to do. Mentally I'm exhausted.

Its days like this holiday that keep me going. The thought that one day the man at the top of the escalator will be waiting for me. The inexpensive date? Ours because we decided that it'd be better to stay in this year. The people at the hotel? Him and I. No babies, no hangovers, but a hell of a time.

I guess I write this to say that if you're ever at that point where you're dragging your feet and questioning whether its even worth going on, as cliche as it sounds, if he's worth it, and in my case he is, follow your heart. If all goes wrong, and he doesn't come back, you can never say I didn't give my all. If he does, then he'll still get my all. And Ill never let him go again.

Happy Valentine's Day.