A Bitch Is Back With Rats & Whatnot

The Rat

So I'm at Nostrand Avenue train station, which is just about as bad as Utica for sighting rats.  I'm walking toward the back of the Express platform because even though I need the local, I know that downstairs is like, I can't even come up with something its like cause its like nothing else you've ever seen.  Rats every fucking where.  And bold as shit too, don't think that stomping your foot is going to scare them off.  So, I'm walking towards the back of the train and I see dude sitting there and I'm thinking that I sure as fuck wouldn't be sitting on the stairs with as many rats as there are at Nostrand.  And just as I think that I see a rat by the edge of the platform.  I'm still kinda far, Nostrand Ave is a long ass station, but it looks like the rat is closer to me than the man is.  So I keep walking and as is my way, my mind starts to wonder.  Where the fuck it goes, I haven't the foggiest, so if you come across it, just make sure it doesn't cause too much damage.  (I was going to say trouble, but you were expecting that weren't you?)

I had my iPod with me so I'm sure I was singing along to something.  All of a sudden I see the man jump up about 5 feet in the air and I see the rat running away.  What.  The. Fuck.  Right?  I mean did I really just see that.  Did I really just see that rat sneak up on the dude and try to crawl up his shorts?!?  Yes.  The.  Fuck.  I.  Did.  And nearly passed the fuck out for him.  I mean the leap in the air, in retrospect, was hilarious.  But I couldn't even laugh because I was so fucking disgusted.  So dude says to me, "You didn't just see that!  You can not tell anyone one that you saw me scream like a girl."  And I'm all private school snarky ass black chick with the, "Seriously are you kidding me?!?  It was a fucking rat in your pants!   I sooooo saw that and I'm soo writing about it on my blog!"

The Whatnot

If you were wondering where I've been, I was severely depressed after LadyShay came to New York, turned me on to the ways of Sapphic love and then abandoned me.  After which I briefly stalked Taimak from the Last Dragon, which lead me to discover the death of Julius Carry which further deepened my depression.  The situation was further exacerbated (whoa, I spelled that right on the first try- and I'm about to use it correctly!) when I discovered that two of the most disgusting, unattractive people I know are getting married (If a woman who has no problem spreading her thighs on the beach so that she can pick at her numerous razor bumps and I guy who has so many cavities that he doesn't even have to open his mouth for you to see them can find love, why the fuck can't I?  Probably cause my ass is way too picky for some of these half assed dudes...) The depression abruptly lifted upon discovering the deliciousness that is Peaches (a restaurant) and smothering my blues in copious amounts of Chicken Fried Chicken from the Comfort Diner, Bacon Cheeseburgers and fries from 5 Guys (I am obsessed with 5 Guys - The Artist calls them crackburgers), spoiling my Mom with a Mojito soaked lunch at Cabana, discovering the funnocity that is Wii, washing an incredibly big dog who hates water and throwing myself into my work.  You would think that I'd have gained some weight, but you'd be wrong, tummy's still 100 good sit ups away from a 6 pack.  Ahh it is wonderful to be naturally thin. (and don't worry that food was supplemented with organic heart healthy oatmeal for breakfast and plenty of fruits and vegetables!)  

Smooches Hooches!

Whew!

Ok, 4 post in one day.  I think that should be enough to get you through the week.  But I got one more story.  Ok, 2 more stories that I think you'll enjoy...

• So its hot as the hinges of hell in New York right now.  Has been for the last 3 weeks or so.  And humid as shit!  So I woke up on Saturday and took Duke outside in the backyard and decided that he looked hot and needed a haircut.  Now I should point out that I've given Duke a haircut a couple of times and it generally comes out looking good.  Not so this time.  I don't know if it was because I was hot (I mean I was sweating buckets out there!)  or because Duke was hot (he kept fidgeting) or because Mommy jinxed me ("Wow, it really looks like you know what your doing!"  that was about 5 minutes before I took entirely too much off of his back left leg.  Then he wouldn't give me his back right leg so that I could at least even it out!)  Needless to say, my poor Pooper looks a mess.  So bad that everytime I see him I say "Awwww, I'm sorry!"  At least he's a lot cooler now.  I, on the other hand, gave myself heat stroke out there cutting all that fucking hair off.  I was thisclose to passing the fuck out.
• After the heat stroke/bad doggy haircut debacle, I decided that I was going to take it easy on Sunday.  Go get a mani/pedi and then go pick up dinner so that Mommy wouldn't have to cook.  I was going to say Mommy or I, but who am I kidding, I'm allergic to the stove in the summer.  So I get the mani/pedi (no thank you, designs are fine for some people, but fuck no I don't want polka dots on my toes!) and then stop at the ATM and hop on the train at Kingston/Throop to go get some food.  I walk towards the back of the platform, but not too far cause I don't want the rats to get me.  I'm waiting, I'm waiting.  Everything copacetic until the train comes cause it brings a big ass rat with it!  The rat in on the platform running from the train and heading right the fuck for me!  I can admit I screamed a la Mariah, but I bet any of your asses would have done the same damned thing if you saw a NYC subway rat charging up the platform at your ass!  So I'm screaming and running away from the rat and the people waiting in the middle of the train platform and wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, UNTIL they see the rat then those mutherfuckers start hitting high notes too.  So the train stops and the people getting off the train are looking at the people on the platform like we all lost our minds.  AND then, they see the rat and a couple of them seriously looked like they were contemplating hopping right the fuck back on the train.  That is until it looked like that was what the rat was going to do too...

Oh shit, I just remembered that I had a CWAAZZZY story to tell you about SuperSlag - somebody remind me...

Tagged...

Ok, so hopefully I'm fully back on my grind.  That sinus shit is a bitch!  I used to get really bad sinus infections every spring, but not so much since I had my wisdom teeth pulled.  Anyway, I'm feeling better so its time to take care of some bidness...

The first link has to be about family - Sleep Talkers - a strange family quirk

The second link has to be about friends - Slick! -my homeboy who I really need to call

The third link has to be about myself - In a Little Cabin - started about my insomnia ended up about the Levian Cult Camp I went to (re: levian - I was in the Dominican Republic with my sisty, we were on this beach and this Dominican guy comes up to us and tries to pick us up.  "Oh! You are sisters, good!  I hoped you were not levians, levians are no fun!"  at least not to beach hustlers)

The fourth link has to be about something I love - Mr. Pooper of course!

And the fifth link cried all the way wee wee home!  He's a bit of a punk ass...

(I'm copping out on the tagging thing cause you guys mostly already did this!)

Family Matters - My Buppy Cousin

I've got a cousin (yes another one) who is an ivy league grad (both undergrad and her masters).  She's a member of a pretty well known African American sorority known for the paper bag rule and high pitched noises.  And she's married to a man who is a grad of a well known Historically Black College for males.  Now, don't take her education to mean that she's not trifling.  She has two little girls who I love very dearly in part because they remind me of Hautechick and myself as children.  But sometimes I worry about those girls.

The oldest is a little bit of a snob and reverse racist.  She told a the one white girl in her ballet class that she couldn't play with her and her friends because she wasn't a minority.  Yeah, my 7 -at the time- year old cousin used the word minority.  When Hautey was a wee one, she told a little girl at the playground to tell her mother to wash her coat.  I think Mommy said Hautey was 4.  The youngest is a mini Trouble if evah there was!  She's had the "are you out of your damn mind?!" look down pact at 4 and isn't afraid to use it on one and all.  She also remind me of myself because her best friend is this adorable little white boy with red hair.  (do I need to remind you of my Bubba?)  And when her mother expressed concern at their relationship (you twit, the damn kids are in the first grade!) she told IvyLeague, "who are you to tell me who I can love?"

There are a couple of reasons that I worry about them.  First and foremost is that their mother sends them out of the house looking all kinds of wrong.  Ok, I understand that you never learned to do hair (my cornrows look like shit, but I can at least manage some two strand twist or a neat ponytail) but you make enough to have some one else do their hair.  And that means more than once a month.  And if you have a full set of Louis Vuitton luggage, why is it that you buy all of their clothes from Conway?  If you don't have Conway where you live, lets just says its cheap.  Polyester and rayon reign supreme and the construction is not what you would call study.  I used to buy toiletries from the one Downtown Brooklyn, but stopped after I saw a rat in there.  That was at least 5 or more years ago, but I think you all know how I feel about rats.  

Mommy used to help her out with the girls when their nanny quit, but IvyLeague insulted Mommy so that was the end of that.  Once she picked Eldest up from school and dropped her off at dance class.  When they get to the dance school, Mommy is helping Eldest get ready and she notices that she didn't eat her sandwich.  No wonder, it was Olive Loaf on black bread or some shit like that.  Eldest is 9, not 90.  So Mommy throws out the sandwich, their little secret, and goes to get Eldest something to eat.  She comes back with a turkey sandwich and finds Eldest is ready for class.  Leotard and tights full of holes.  Being the competent mother that she is, Mommy is embarrassed as hell.  She ask IvyLeague about it and she's all "Oh Eldest is an artist, she can't be concerned with perfect tights."  Yeah but you're her mom, shouldn't you be concerned with that shit?!

End Note - why the hell can't I ever remember that embarrassed has two r's?!?!?

Ben

That's what I'm naming the dancing rat. Cause I swear its the same one. I almost got a picture of him this morning with a cupcake, but my clumsiness and the arriving train conspired against you. I stood there for about 3 minutes chuckling while the lil fucker tried to drag that cupcake all the way across the track and under the third rail. When he first found it, he did his little dance, then he got took a bite and got spooked and ran away. (Ben is like greased lighting, bitch can move!) Then he came back, nibbled a bit, got hopped up on sugar and thought he was SuperRat. Able to jump burning third rails with a single bound. It was a close thing but he got it. Then he did a little dance and I laughed and the lady with no teeth looked at me like I was crazy.

Maybe tomorrow morning...
this is what my life has come to, getting my shits and grins from a fucking rat. Yeah Harley, NY is so fucking glamorous.

Hasta la Pasta People!

I was gonna say Hasta Whenever, but then I remembered that I used to love this restaurant called Hasta la Pasta! Anyway, totally random that was.

I just came to tell all 14 of you (I only counted about 9 maybe 10 regular readers but analytics insist there are some others) that we're having a little crisis at work here. Welllll actually its like 5 mini crisis'. I just cleared up one of them so I was doing the "Yoooooooooou" part of the superman that hoe dance in my chair. (You know the part when you hop back and forth, well I was sliding) Bitch try and tell me I didn't send something when I know I did and had the Fed Ex tracking number to prove it. Plus you know FedEx is like 22nd Century and shit cause they will post your signature on the web for all and sundry to see.

So until the media frenzy has died down some, I may not be posting (or commenting) for a minute. Which sucks cause I just got a new digicam! (I think I say this often but Costco ROCKS!) Maybe I'll just post some pics and shit in the meanwhile.

I haven't told a rat story lately. So I was standing in the train station and I look down and there are all of these bread crust in the tracks (you know, the edges which some people dont like and cut off, which is stoopid in my opinion cause it taste just like the rest of the bread) and then I see this rat. It was like he hit the jackpot cause I swear the lil fucker did a dance. Then after he got one of the crust in his mouth he did a little hop step (he might have been clicking his heels!) and got the fuck outta dodge! For some reason I thought it was adorable. Then I felt sick for thinking that a NYC transit rat was adorable

Oh and my heart goes out to Kanye West, sorry about your Mommy. I seriously shed a few tears over that...

Insomniac...

...I come back!

I'm feelin a little strange. I haven't really been able to sleep. I have a million and one natural and man made remedies, but by the time I realize "Hey, shouldn't I be sleeping?" its usually too late to take something. So I've been getting by on about 4 hours sleep a night for about the last two weeks and spending most of the day on the weekend in bed. Which got me to thinking that I really want to do my bedroom over. I love the colors that I painted it a couple of years ago but I want some furniture, nothing to big but I want to make it really comfortable so even if I can't sleep I'll feel relaxed. If I can just finish the bedroom, I can move on to the living room...

So last night I was upstairs watching tv with Mommy and as usual, I stated getting sleepy so I headed downstairs. But then I remembered that I wanted to start clearing off the futon in the living room so that I can get rid of it. Its pretty much a dumping ground right now since I dont use the living room. I started putting stuff on it, like the handbags I wasn't using, to keep Duke from jumping up there. But then a couple of handbags turned into a couple of jackets and some cardiagans, and my heels that I carry to work (bad back, plus sneakers are better for running from rats. and I thought that rats and mice aren't supposed to cohabitate? cause there sure as hell was a mouse in the train station today) So I decided to put all my Coach bags back into their sleepers and into a big container. When I finished I went into the kitchen and I dont know what I was doing (it couldn't have been washing dishes, cause I hate washing dishes) but I noticed that the sink was dirty, so I cleaned it. Then I remembered that I got some new oils so I dipped some incense. And I had to pee, and I noticed the tub was dirty, so I cleaned it. Then I remembered that I went to Barnes and Nobles and got Laurell K. Hamilton's newest book, A Lick of Frost. It was really good, which is basically where I was today.

Welll, thats not really true. I read most of it last night and the rest today at work. Bossman didn't come into the office til like noon so I used the two hours to put a serious dent in the second half of the book. Then we were pretty busy, and I used the downtime to finish and start the book again. I finished it to fast and I liked it so I'm gonna read it again to see if I missed anything. Then I might go back and read the one that was before it again just to pull everything together.

Plus I'm still a little short on sleep so I'm not entirely sure that I didn't make some parts up. Oh and how could I forget the hellish knot that I had in my back all day (see previous reference to said bad back) I couldn't even raise my right arm to put on my itty bitty bra! By the time I got to work I was doing most shit lefty cause it hurt like heeeellllll. Even taking a deep breathe hurt. By like 2 the heat sticker thingy I put on it started loosening it up enough that I wasn't making faces anymore.

(Since I'm kinda lucid right now I figure I should just do one big ass mondo mega post while I can so bear with me, lets see what else comes out)

It is exactly one month til my 30th birthday. I'm not as excited as I usually get. What I would really like to do is get a private room at a nice restaurant and inviting everyone I love everything on me. Buuuuuuut, I know thats not gonna happen. I love too many flakes and complainers (me included!) I sure as hell dont want to go to a club. My dream birthday would be to rent a house in the Barbados and tell everybody to come on down! But I'm too much of a misanthrope to make that a reality. Maybe I'll go to Montana and learn to ride horses...

Speaking of my birthday, I always buy myself a gift. Usually its jewelery or a bag. So this year I started looking and I actually have a little more to play with this year and I can't find shit I want. When I do see something I like I inevitably end up thinking its overpriced, even when it still falls withing my budget.

And speaking of overpriced, have you ever heard of bag borrow or steal? Its this club that lets you borrow designer handbags and accessories by the week or month. They have all the big names and its like $80 a week to borrow a Chloe bag. But you pay a annual dues of some amount I can't remember. Go look that shit up if you're really interested. But in any case, what do you guys think about that? I mean on the one hand, I have a lot of handbags so I always feel guilty when I buy more, but I always do want to buy more! And this would let me have access to all the bags I dream about without the guilt. Right? On the other hand, I hate paying for shit that I'm not gonna own. And what if I love one of them and have to have it? Or what if I love them all and don't want to give it back? And what if they send me one and I think its in bad condition? (I do remember that they have insurance, but I'm saying can I say "Oh this one has a discoloration send me a fresher one please?" if I'm not happy with what they send me?

I asked Hautechick last week before I decided that she was a jerk (she sent me an email saying that she just wanted to know if I was ok since she hadn't heard from me, Uh, thats cause you left me hanging jerkorella) and she said that she didn't like the idea of it cause then you have all of these women rocking bags that they couldn't really afford otherwise and not doing them justice. I can afford them, I just think its stoopid to pay that much for a bag. Unless its Coach, or on sale I can't resist when something is marked down. Thats how I got my Botkier Bombay bag, which I don't carry nearly enough. Thats a great bag. Real bad ass.

I think my favorite songs on The Reminder are The Water, Intuition and Sea Lion Woman. Ok, I think thats all I got for tonight, gonna go finish rereading the book.

Hautechick's Rat Tale

I probably shouldn't post this, cause even though this was started as Hautechick's site, she's never done a post. PLUS she insinuates that you guys might be slightly weird, like their is something wrong with weird. AND I do hate it when she calls me her "little" sister. About 2 years ago I showed up at her job and her co-workers kept looking at me funny, then finally one of them asks me how many sisters I have, just the one, and he's like "Oh, well the way she describes you, I thought you were about 13." FURTHERMORE, she makes it sound like all I do is tell Rat Stories, which makes it clear that she doesn't read this blog. MOREOVER, she's slightly jealous cause you guys read my blog (HA HA you stinker!)

ADDITIONALLY, I don't think she invokes that imagery or imagination that I showed in my Rat Tales but hey...

THE RAT ATTACK

About a month ago, my dear younger (not little as that makes her mad) sister saw both a rat fight and a rat on the subway platform over the course of about 3 days. I am truly petrified of rodents of all shapes and sizes from the ginormous Capybara to the tiniest house mouse - they all freak me out...big time (also, btw the reason I even know about Capybaras is that my persistent and omnipresent fear lead me to do rodent research, so while my fears may be slightly irrational, they're not completely unfounded).
So, back to my sister - after the rat incidents she starting blogging about these rodents in turn creating a following on her blog (I'm sure they're all nice people, but the whole rat bonding thing is odd)...which in turn meant that she began to constantly talk about the rat fight and the subway sighting...with me freaking out more and more with each retelling.
The subway sighting particularly shook me, I made sure that I was never the first person off the train and up the stairs...just in case, I like to call it paranoid preparation. All was well, until last night. As usual I made sure someone was in front of me as we got off of the train....two people actually...and as I was about to follow some random dude up the stairs, when I saw the biggest, grossest rat I've ever seen up close meandering down the stairs...pretty slowly, just grazing some lady's foot...but I was the ONLY one who saw. I;d been expecting this to happen for weeks, but when it actually did, I was frozen with fear...I couldn't move and clutched my chest and emitted the weakest scream ever...keep in mind that I am the ONLY person who saw this rat...paranoid preparation indeed!

Train Tales

In my first Rat Tale, I mentioned some other crazy things that have happened to me on the train. Here are a couple of examples...

One day I was heading downtown on the E train with a girl I know, and we see this guy in a suit fidgeting. Pretty young, nice looking, good suit, great shoes...

So anyway, in between stations, the guy all of a sudden rushes in between the cars. Now I think I should point out that I'm like Wakko Warner in that every thing is a potty emergency (a box of "I'm Not A Bad Lay" (which is a story in itself)Candy to whom so ever can tell me where I got that from.) So I assumed the guy REALLY had to pee. Well, he had to use the bathroom, but peeing was not what he did. I don't even think he bothered to pull his pants down, because when the train next pulled into the station he runs from between the cars and off the train. Trailing shit the whole way. (He ruined those great shoes in case you were wondering.)

Another time, I'm heading uptown on the 4 and when we get to Union Square this dreadlocked dude gets on. Now even though I have natural hair, I hate it when other people with the same assume that we are cool, cause we rock similar styles. Furthermore, dude was a strobe light hoe. He might have looked good in a dark club, but light was not this boys friend. So when he gave me the "You know you want me" look, I came back with the "Negro please" look and went back to my book. Not to be thwarted by my evil eye, he saunters over to the bench across from where I'm sitting and poses for maximum effect. I'm not buying it and act like I can't see him. (I am VERY good at acting oblivious while cataloging everything that goes on around me - I'm great at eavesdropping!) So when we get to Grand Central and he gets up, I figure that he's gotten the point that I'm not interested. Instead on his way out of the train, he drops a card in my lap. I'm so busy think "Dumbass" that I don't even look at the card and I really try not to litter so I threw it in my bag. I get to work, sit down at my desk with my large Earl Grey with half and half and reach into my bag for my glasses. With the glasses, the card also comes out. I look at it and I swear, Earl Grey came out of my nose. All over the computer screen, all over the keyboard, all over the million little post-it notes covering my desk. But it doesn't end there, I get up to go get a paper towel, and I'm still choking, so I spray regurgitated tea all over the interior glass wall in my office (its like working in a fishbowl).

Homeboy card says that he's a personal masseuse, who is available for private work in your home, gormet (that's how it was spelled on the card) available upon request. He also does bachelor parties...

Another Rat Tale

I must be on a roll today, cuase this is like the fifth post I've done! I guess I'm kinda making up for not posting last week or the week before. And hell, I'm not even sure anyone is really reading this, but fuck it, like I ever needed an audience to entertain myself. (I can do bad all by my lonely!)

Anyhoo, I was going to visit Hautechick and her hobbly husband (Luv You Bro!) and got off the C train at Utica Avenue. I walk to the stair at the front end of the platform (on the uptown side) and there coming down the middle of the stairs is a rat. A HUGE FUKING JUMP BAD RAT! and in case you missed this part, HE WAS WALKING DOWN THE GOT DAMNED STAIRS! So I did what any self respecting bad bitch would do, I squealed. And the man behind me, who didn't see the rat, laughed at me and starts to pass me and go up the stairs. That is until he saw the rat. He screamed, straight up screamed, like a girl I might add. And I guess that rat was a friend to my OG Burnt Leg Rat, cause he didn't seem to like the fact that old dude laughed at me, and headed straight towards Mr. Tough Guy. Who proceeded to hop his now non-laughing ass all around the platform so the rat wouldn't get him. Punk ass.

I don't call him a punk for running from the rat, hell I would have done the same thing. I call him a punk cause he laughed at me for being afraid of the rat, then acted more the fool that I did. Now chagrined, he gonna say to me, "Why didn't you warn me about the rat?" but by this time I was too busy laughing at his dumb ass to answer!

Rat Fight

I'm a New Yorker, born and raised. More specifically, I'm a Brooklynite, so it is pretty safe to say that I have seen my fair share of crazy things. Especially on the trains. I've seen business men shit on themselves. I've seen all kinds sex acts and just about any other form of lewd and lascivious behavior that you could possible imagine. Once this man had an enormous erection. I mean I've seen some pretty big ones, and even though disturbing it was damned impressive. I swear that at least 4 women couldn't take their eyes off of it. He was obviously embarrassed, he hid his face for most of the ride, and definitely uncomfortable, the only touching he did was an occasional adjustment. Or maybe he just didn't want his picture to end up on the news.

Then on the hygiene end, there was the man whose underarms smelled so bad, he knocked about 3 people out when he raised his arm to hold on the the bar. You always get the nose pickers, and for some reason they are usually older Asian men. And I'd never have to take the train again if I had a dollar for every time I had to tell someone to cover their mouths when yawning/sneezing/coughing. (And for some reason the yawning seems to be mostly younger hipper women, who obviously have no home training. Come on, do you really think that all of these people want to smell your rank morning breath or see what you ate for breakfast?)

But by far the most interesting thing that I've seen in a long time was a rat fight in the tracks at Rockaway Avenue station. Now any New Yorker worth their J Brand Jeans knows that a good way to tell if the train is coming (long before they started installing those alarms and probably more reliable) was to see if the rats were scurrying off the tracks. So last night I thought nothing when I saw 2 rats emerge and start sniffing around. Since the were scurrying away from the express tracks, I figured that an express was about to pass through. I noticed that one of the rats had a rather nasty burn on one of his back legs - no I'm not making that up, nor do I know why I noticed this - and was limping slightly, and thought to myself, "he better hustle if he doesn't want to get hit."

Then, as the train passes through the station, I hear what I swear is a rat scream. I look down and homerats are scrapping like their lives depend on it, and maybe it does. I enjoy a good fight of any kind, and this was my first rat fight so I was riveted. I gotta say that it was slightly more entertaining than the last Merryweather fight. One was seriously getting his ass kicked to the point where rather than continue to fight, he ran right under the train that was passing through the station. Now I wasn't at all sad to see a rat lose its life, but I did think "aw poor burned rat got his ass kicked royally!" But when I looked at the victor, it was my old buddy burned rat! He was a straight OG, not a limp at all during the fight so I was starting to think that maybe it wasn't a limp, maybe that's just his swagger!