Protection Stuff

I’m having another “great” period. Does anyone not get the sarcasm dripping (just like a period) from my words?

All I needed to do to prepare for this bodily invasion this morning was to find my protective supplies in the cabinet under the sink.

I thought about all the homeless and poor women in the world who aren’t able to grab a tampon and go. They don’t have the money to buy food – much less feminine products.

We are a global community and I would like to ask my blogger buddies to give. I don’t want money. (Yes I do – but not in this case). I would like to start a grassroots effort to provide tampons and feminine napkins to women who need them but can’t afford them.

I’ve been caught out there with no protection and no cash and the ‘make do’ efforts I’ve resorted to aren’t comfortable or reliable. Imagine this happening every month. Imagine being 14 years old and alone with NO ONR to ask. We pass the homeless every day.

I’ve been contacting agencies to help – so far no response, but I’m going to find a way. I’m asking that you contact the local homeless organizations in your area as well as social agencies to see where we can send the products. I’m also asking that each of you buy an extra box of whatever you use to set aside to contribute to the cause. You can email me with info – so that we can compile a list of drop off points in different regions. jalicook@hotmail.com or gmail.com.

If you pass this info along to other bloggers you know perhaps we can really make a difference. I call this the protection project. Please guys, let’s make a small difference in this big world.

Train Stuff

I’m back on the bus and train and I’m looking as these moments as opportunities. (Don’t I sound like one of those “life trainers”?)

These moments are opportunities since without them I might not have new blogging material; and baby I have blogging material today!

It was 29 degrees in Atlanta Georgia this morning. 29 degrees. Please keep this fact in mind as it has a strong bearing on the next story.

Pretty young girl maybe 25 or so. Diva-ish dress style – appropriate for Saturday night at a club if a limo drops you off at the front door and security can whisk you inside so that you don’t even notice a chill. Totally inappropriate for an icy elevated train platform with the winds blowing NNE at 36 MPH. Girlfriend had on stretch Capris slacks with white stiletto pumps. No tights – no stockings – just cold, cold legs in the morning.

Once we boarded the train she sat directly across from me and I was able to continue with my observation (Yeah, I’m nosy as hell). Girlfriend was a big girl and needed to wear big girl clothes to look good. Girlfriend wore a strapless bra that was waaaaaay too small under a skin tight white sweater. The too tight strapless bra created bumps above her breasts that looked like additional breasts. She carried a white summer purse in an effort to pull the outfit together.

These things seemed remarkable to me, but what made her unbelievable was that she pulled a small roll of toilet paper from that white summer bag and proceeded to delicately blow her nose. On a train FULL of people she pulled out a roll of toilet paper. Emergencies happen – it’s true. I can imagine being stuck with a roll in my bag and discreetly pulling some out to blow my nose. I can’t imagine making a big production out of it.

Another girl decided that she needed 2 seats this morning and leaned on the wall with her feet up in the adjoining seat and started to do what looked like her homework. The riders that were standing there meekly just let her do it. It lasted for just one stop when a chick got on, stood next to the offending feet and glared at the girl who moved her feet and apologized.

In the “self absorbed” standard we’ve come to accept, at the far end of the train another young woman was having a private telephone onversation. Well, it would have been private if she hadn’t shouted into the phone so that everyone with a pulse heard everything she said. She cursed and argued and cussed and yelled and cursed again. Totally offensive at 7:10 in the morning with a variety of riders aboard the train. The N word was used so many times I wanted to scream. Some of us looked up in horror each time a new volley started, but I wasn’t looking for a beat down on my way to work so I kept my mouth shut. (yup, a punk)

One great note: I saw 3 different guys give up their seats to ladies this morning. Thank you young dudes! You made my day.

Funny Stuff

Stuff like this is hilarious to me. I needed this back during marriage #2.

Nigerian Scam Stuff

This article from the online ‘zine of the Detroit Free Press is amazing.

County funds lost in Nigerian scam
Treasurer accused of illegal transfer

The longtime treasurer of Alcona County (Michigan)was accused Wednesday in an embezzlement scheme in which he may have served as both perpetrator and victim, sending up to $1.25 million in county funds and his own life savings to con artists after falling for one of the notorious online Nigerian banking frauds.

Thomas Katona, 56, of Harrisville was charged with nine felonies, including embezzlement and fraud, after a monthlong investigation by state authorities of numerous unauthorized wire transfers he allegedly made of county funds to overseas bank accounts.

The accounts were allegedly controlled by operators of a Nigerian advance fee fraud, law enforcement officials said.

Katona had been treasurer for Alcona County, along Lake Huron in the northern Lower Peninsula, for 13 years. He was relieved of his job in late November, after the alleged fraud was uncovered.

The county, with only about 11,000 residents, is the third least-populous in the Lower Peninsula. The county government has a total budget of only about $4 million.

Court documents said that in August and September, Katona made at least eight unauthorized wire transfers totaling $186,500. Earlier in the year, he sent at least $72,500 of his own money to the same accounts, the documents said.

County officials learned of the unauthorized transfers when Katona was in London, apparently to meet with some of his contacts, and bank records were faxed to county offices. Local bank officials had warned Katona earlier that they suspected he was dealing with Nigerian fraud artists, according to the documents.

A preliminary audit of county finances, which turned up an additional forged document, indicates a shortfall of $1,236,700. It was unclear how much of the missing money was invested in the scheme, officials said.

A spokesman for Michigan Attorney General Mike Cox said Wednesday evening that efforts are under way to track the money and the con artists behind the scheme — variations of which have been on the Internet for a decade. Investigators doubt any of the money would be recovered, spokesman Matt Frendeway said.

Frendeway said details of the circumstances under which Katona was ensnared were not immediately available.

Carolyn Brummond, vice chair of the Alcona County Board of Commissioners, said Wednesday evening that she had no comment. Other officials could not be reached.

Cheryl Peterson, editor and publisher of the Alcona County Review, said Katona had been convicted of a misdemeanor while doing bookkeeping work for a private company several years ago.

“This is a tremendous blow to a small community where we trust our politicians,” she said.

Remix (Recycled) Stuff

Today the shirt I’m wearing is lime green which reminded me of the “Nappy” incident. I decided to repost it today – maybe some of you haven’t seen it. Those who have – have a good weekend.


The cutie pie that I’m dating can rest assured that I truly care about him. The reason that he can feel totally confident in my genuine feeling is that I spent the entire morning with him in the Atlanta area one Saturday despite his outfit.

You may wonder, “what in the world could the man have worn to make Jali say all this on the internet.” Well I’ll share: He wore a lime green “Nappy” track suit… with emerald green and black racing stripes… with the name “Nappy” in bold white letters on the back. (I made a serious effort to research the “Nappy” apparel company, but was unable to find an active link.

I really wanted to share the look with you guys so that you’d really understand how much I care for this man. Remember, it was lime green. With emerald green and black racing stripes. Nappy.) Based on the one example of the design of the “Nappy” people that I’ve seen, I assume that the company is out of business. They really need to be.

The plan in the morning was to run out briefly to make it to an early morning doctor’s appointment. “A” didn’t really care what the doctor thought about his outfit. “A” should have cared.

When he got in the car, I sort of shielded my eyes from the glare of the lime green. He gave me that look and I didn’t say a word. Not one word until we were on the road. Now let me explain, “A” is a beautiful man. Just beautiful… but remember the saying, ‘beauty is as beauty does’? Well “A” decided to do the Nappy lime green track suit that morning.

I offered to play a road game to make things fun. “Let’s name all the green things we see while we’re traveling.” My suggestion wasn’t even given a response. “Oooh… there’s your car!” Yup, a guy was driving a shiny lime green convertable so I sped up a bit to get a good look. “A” refused to acknowledge the car at all. “Green trees, green grass, green trash can…” I was on a roll playing my game. “A” wasn’t amused, but I find my entertainment where I can.

We pulled into the parking garage of the medical complex, and I decided to wait outside and read for a while. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll see you as soon as you come out of the building.” “A” didn’t get the joke.

After the appointment the original plan was to fly back home, change into more groovy gear and find some fun or trouble to get into. My stomach wasn’t having it. I went into whiney mode. “I’m hungry, I’m hot… I have a headache.” I accompanied this much repeated refrain with my patented ‘pitiful Jali’ look. After about my 12th or 13th sigh and his obvious annoyance at my whining, “A” finally relented and agreed to feed me.

Did we stop at the closest fast food spot where we could whizz through the drive-thru? Ha-Ha. I sped onto the highway with a goal in mind: The Famous Pancake House in Stone Mountain.

The restaurant was crowded (as always). TFPH is my favorite breakfast spot in the Metro area and I was excited to share the experience with the dude of my dreams. The dude of my dreams still wore the lime green Nappy suit with emerald and black racing stripes. He remembered his outfit as we walked past the people sitting outside the restaurant. (see, this is why I need a camera phone – the look on his face when the realization set in was amazing).

I grabbed his hand to show solidarity, but turned away so that he wouldn’t see me giggling. The hostess sat us near the middle of the room. “A” was cool – well I suppose as cool as one can be while wearing a lime green Nappy track suit with emerald and black racing stripes and with every eye in the restaurant watching his every move. We ordered, the food was delicious, the conversation great and the time had come to make our grand exit.

“When I get home, I’m going to put this suit in a bag and pee on it”. (Yeah, yeah, but you still have it on now.)

I proudly held his hand again as we weaved through the crowded room of staring people. “He’s MY man!” (yeah, that was a paraphrased quote by “Squeek” from The Color Purple). As we drove home I notice the engine temp gauge was slowly edging towards dangerous. “A” wisely suggested that we stop at the auto parts store for fluids. (Ooh goodie, another adventure.)

I make the most of each and every shopping opportunity and was cruising the aisles for things I might need, and I suppose that “A” got tired of waiting in the hot car. I looked up and he was standing next to me, sweating like crazy in his lime green track suit with emerald and black racing stripes.I put down the thing-a-ma-bob that I had been examining and followed “A” to the register.

The guy that helped us happened to mention that it was his B-day and that he couldn’t wait until he got off. “Um sir.. may I ask you a serious question?”"Sure”, he was a polite young man.

“If someone gave you a lime green Nappy track suit with emerald and black racing stripes as a gift for your birthday, would you wear it?”

Post script – “A” is finally speaking to me again. Would I do it all over knowing what I know now? Hells yeah! That was the best laugh I’d had for days and the other customers and clerks enjoyed it too. If anyone can find a photo of a “Nappy” track suit, please send me a link!!

Poetry Stuff

Last night I read a poem at Javaology, a cool little coffee house in downtown Atlanta. Two bloggers from Atlanta were there – I met Mist1 http://mustgethobby.blogspot.com/a couple of weeks ago for lunch and drinks. The other, THE DRAGON (what’s with the shouting, dude) http://kiyotoe.blogspot.com/ heard me read, but I didn’t know he was from Bloggerland until this morning. I’m looking forward to formally meeting him. (I may have hugged him – that’s something I do at these events since the peace/love vibe is strong. If not, I’ll be sure to hug him next week)

I love spoken word exchanges. Reading to an audience that’s really listening to what I have to say is great for the soul. The feedback they share that lets me know that they “got it” is amazing.

Here’s what I read:

True Love

How do I express my love?
How can I share the feeling of joy I’ve felt since this began?
Again. Yes, again.

We start anew.

Should I close my eyes, imagining the last time…
Replaying those moments in slow, slow motion?

The dance.
The poetry
The ecstasy of movement.
The perfect execution of a perfect move.

I shudder with delight – replaying the magic.
I scream again as I did then.
Unable to hold back the feeling.
Unable to quietly sit and allow things to just happen.

I must take part in this.
I have my role to play.
I am a part of the whole.
My screams will not go unanswered.

Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Aw hell yeah!

Football season’s back! (Last night I said “Superbowl” instead of “football season”.)

Time for me to read and comment all over the net.

Retread Stuff

Hassan the Determined

Brooke the Beautiful (my eldest)

I’m pulling out all the old stories, since things are slow and because I think my kids and my grands are funny as hell. I was having a conversation with my grandson Hassan when he was about 3. We were talking about friendship and I told him that I would always be his friend. He answered, “Grandma, you KNOW you’re my boy!”

When my daughter Dalerie was about 3 or 4 years old she decided to have a full fledged tantrum at the mall. She fell to the floor and started thrashing her limbs and screaming at the top of her lungs. The crowd seemed to pause mid sentence – and mid step to see how I would handle this out of control child. I threw down my bags and dropped to the floor, kicking my legs and waving my arms. I shouted, “this baby is driving me crazy!”. Dalerie was embarrased as hell. She jumped up, offered me her hand and said politely, “come on Mommy.” It dawned on her that her Mommy was a force to be reckoned with. She never tried that shit again.

My daughter, Brooke tells this story, (probably a big fat lie) about me in Pathmark back in 1994 or so. My children have claimed that grocery shopping with me was an embarrassment because I bought so many “no frills” items at the time. They would hate to run into any of their friends at the store who would laugh at the “If you like ‘Cheetos’, try me” labels on the bag of corn chips that I chose for economy.

I supposedly asked my child to go get me a bag of onions and then took my place in the check out line. Child took a long time to make it back to me with the produce, and I asked her what happened. Her deadpan reply, “I couldn’t find the ‘no frills’ onions.” She and her sister, the beautiful Dalerie thought this was hilarious.

Stuff Stuff

How is it that no matter how little toilet paper is left on the roll, Adrian will find a way to use exactly that amount? Exactly the amount left on the roll!

Does my honey bunny have some sort of super power that regulates his recyling system to adjust to the number of sheets left on the roll? I’ve been putting his powers to the test these last few weeks just to see what he’ll do and he passes with flying colors every time. That sad looking brown piece of cardboard left from the roll is all the evidence I need to see to understand his skill at toilet paper changing avoidance. he is a master of the game.

Yesterday after making ladylike use of the facilities (yeah – fart city for those of you who know me), I reached for the paper and my fingers struck hard cardboard where white fluffiness should have been. The reserve rolls of paper were at the far side of the vanity and I could just touch the paper, but couldn’t grab a roll.

My pants around my ankles, I hobbled a step or two in the “croaching tiger” position to reach the paper and caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Not at all attractive folks. The highlights: vast expanse of butt with frowning face to cap it off. Frowning in part because the ridiculous amount of Bombay Gin I drank on Saturday night was being processed by a system that was out of control. (While drinking I pretend I don’t know that this will happen). Frowning in part because I was annoyed that I had to be in that position (again, Adrian – again).

Yes I know that checking the roll should be the first thing done, but in the case of Bombay gin overload there isn’t time to do anything other than assume the position and pray for accuracy. (I’m on the money most of the time.)

Playing With Photos Stuff

These are just some cute photos I snatched from different sites over the years. (Yes, I do have a real post today – see below you naysayer – ). I just love these!

Look at little dude’s face. He kills me!

The Grapes of Wrath

Blog Etiquette Stuff

I suppose this is a poll of sorts and there are no right or wrong answers. (I use to hate to hear that line but I’m using it anyway cause this is Jali’s house!)

I’ve come to know and love a wide variety of people and their pages since I started my own. I’m always happy when bloggers come to vist me and leave a message. It’s great when lurkers finally have something to say, and a nice comment from someone passing through is fun to see too. Do any you guys answer every comment made every day? Do you visit every commenter’s page and leave a comment there? How about your blogroll? Do you visit regularly and comment?

I try my best to visit every commenter’s page (eventually) to at least say, “thanks for the stop-by”, but there have been times that I wasn’t feeling the page at all and didn’t want to keep visiting so decided not to leave a note ( examples: extreme conservative politics – extreme fundamentalist religion – something racist on the page – certain mommy blogs {some are great others not so much}, ). I keep getting this tickle (I guess it’s my conscience) telling me that it’s just basic courtesy to at least leave a note.

I have a list of favorite blogs that was manageable for a little while, but as I meet new people and check them out I add to my list of favorites and it takes hours and hours to get to see them all. I have a list of second favorites, which to be honest, are people I like but can’t seem to get to because of my favorite favorites. (I know these are run on sentences Sister Loyola Marguerite but it’s my blog and I’m not even Catholic anymore so get out of my head!)

I see some of you guys have over 50 comments per day and I still see you hanging out all over. How the hell do you do it? I know that since I only blog from the office I have a little less time than some, but some of you truly amaze me with witty or touching posts from the heart on a daily basis as well as thoughtful and appropriate responses on every blog you visit. I give pretty good grumpy sometimes – that’s about it.

Ooooh! I have an idea – I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours: Here’s Adrian:

He’s going to be so thrilled that I posted his photo on the net.