One good apple…



I usually don’t smile in hair salons. Because I hate them.

Or maybe I should say: I hate the hair-salon “process.” I’ve been to stylists who arrive dumb late for appointments. A-yo, respect my time, man. I’ve been to stylists who nickel-and-dime. The deep-conditioner application cost 15 dollars, but if you want me to wash it out, it’s gonna be 30. I’ve been to stylists who stack clients. How we ALL got an 11:00 appointment?… And as such, I have been relaxing, styling and sometimes trimming (I may need to stop trimming) my own hair since I was 15. On the rare occasions when I do need to go to a salon, I arrive with my hair relaxed, conditioned and wrapped and just ask the stylist to trim and style it. They don’t like it but it really is in everyone’s best interest, as I do not possess patience or restraint necessary to sit in a salon all day long without blacking out on somebody. “Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.

I took new headshots today. I felt like I needed to get my hair done professionally, so I made an appointment with a stylist I recently met. I walked thru the door with a side-eye, but when I got in I saw that I was her only client. We breezed right thru the process. In and out in two hours (the roller set added a lil extra time, but I asked for that) and she did a fantastic job!



If it was always like this, maybe I would go more often.

But it isn’t. So I won’t.

Gyms are stupid


I joined a Planet Fitness at the top of the year. Because if you’re gonna join a gym, you should join one with free pizza nites, bagel days, and unlimited Tootsie Rolls. And despite its best efforts to sabotage me, I’ve lost 30 pounds so far. Yet on most days I still have to trick myself into going to workout. I’ll put my gym clothes on early in the morning and tell myself, “You wouldn’t dare take those clothes off without going…”

But I would. I would dare.

And when I do go, I still manage to procrastinate all day long. It’s amazing how everything on my “to-do” list becomes urgent when the alternative is working out:

I’m just gonna finish watching the morning news first.

Well now it’s almost lunch time; I don’t want to go on an empty stomach.

I just ate lunch. I should probably let the meal settle.

Lemme just write this blog right quick…

As I type this, I am sitting on my bed in full workout gear. It’s 1:18 PM and I’ve had these clothes on since 9. So I’m going now. But I still hate it.

Gyms are stupid.

I’m a hustler. I’m a, I’m a hustler…

So I’m out jogging this morning (suspend your disbelief) and an older lady who was leaning up against a light pole waved me over. I didn’t know if she needed help or what so of course I went over… and she tried to sell me Mary Kay cosmetics. While I was jogging. For real? Is that the new pink Cadillac hustle? I almost gave her “the big eyes,” but she was old enough to be my granny so I just said “No, thank you” and kept it moving.

Mary Kay ladies really are shameless, though. One of my girlfriends said a lady tried to sell her Mary Kay at church, during the part of service where you say “God bless you” and greet your neighbor. And she wasn’t even her neighbor! I’m sure it’s not real Christian to take back a “God bless you,” but neither is critiquing someone’s pores during the sign of peace.

I don’t see how posting up near a light pole and waiting for joggers to pass at 8:30 in the morning is a good marketing plan. I mean I’m dripping sweat, I’m out of breath, and who jogs with their credit cards? It seriously felt like a drug deal… Take this sample and if you like it, meet me back here tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if she modeled her sales pitch after a for real street hustler, cause Mary Kay ladies appear to be about that life.

Evil Advil

So it took me a while to figure it out, but apparently an Ibuprofen allergy is what’s responsible for my face looking like this. It’s something that developed over time — I’ve been taking Advil forever — so I didn’t immediately suspect it. But I finally put all the pieces together today. Every time my eyes swell I take photos so that I can show them to a doctor someday when I’m able to afford health insurance. Glad I didn’t have to wait that long…

It happens at the most inconvenient times. Earlier this month when I was headed up to NYC for a TV taping, the photo in the middle happened. Yeah, I had to be on camera that afternoon. It wasn’t pretty. Literally. At first I’d struggled to figure out what foods might have caused this reaction. And when I couldn’t find any commonalities, I’d written it off to stress. The pic on the left happened on the day my trifling ass “tenant” (quotations because actual tenants pay rent) “returned” these keys to me during the eviction process:

Why would that be stressful, EJ? That sounds like a good thing.

They were not my keys.

On the day of the second photo, I was also dealing with some drama about renting my condo and thought “Gosh, this whole being a landlord thing is really stressing me out.” I was kinda right. Because the situation spawned the headache that made me take the Advil.

But today I was stress free when I felt my face start to tingle about 30 minutes after taking something for a sinus headache. I finally put 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 (this happened once before in February when I threw my back out) together. I started Googling for Ibuprofen allergies and allergic reactions and I found my face! Well, not my face specifically but it was definitely my face. I felt like a super sleuth. I was more proud of myself for solving the case than I was glad I could prevent this from happening in the future.

As a reward for all my hard detective-ing (and to de-puff my eyes of course) I treated myself to a nice double dose of Benadryl and called it a day. At about 3pm. I’m just now waking up. And now I’m going back to sleep.

Not sure why I feel like you all needed to know all this, but I do. You’re welcome.

Squatters and Inheritance Tours

So I haven’t had much (well, nothing actually) to say about my tenant/current living situation on the blog, but it was a hot, steamy mess and I’m going to have MUCH more to say about it in the near future. Stay tuned for my upcoming video piece entitled “Squatting on My Dreams.” It’s going to be epic. In the meantime, check out the video below:

You’re a mean one, Mr. Jackson

I caught Old Man Jackson posting his no trick-or-treat signs this evening. I knew he was on his way to hang them because he asked me if you spelled “treat” with an “e” and an “a” or two “e’s” because it didn’t look right to him. I should have told him it was the second way. Would have made for a much funnier photo. I’ve been calling him Mean Old Man Jackson all day and yelling out the window for people to get off his lawn. Even though there was no one on the lawn.

This one was taken from inside my Halloween Prison. Let me out, Scrooge!!! These kids’ costumes are so cute I just wanna go outside on the sneak tip and give them some Mentos out of my purse. I hope someone breaks me outta here.

Attica! Attica!

Laziness saturation point

Yes, my fellow Americans. Someone thinks we’re this lazy:

And you know what? They’re probably right.

Tired of all that pesky bending at the waist business when you’re in the shower? Of COURSE you are. Well, bend no more. Easy Feet is here to save the day! A built-in pumice stone, bristles and suction cups that stick to the shower floor?… And here I thought advertising college in your pajamas was bad. One of my Facebook friends posted this yesterday and I was so angry at him for making me aware that this existed. I am also angry at whomever invented this product, the focus group that told he/she it was a good and necessary idea, anyone who has purchased it, and the stores that carry it. CVS better not be in on this…

I think this contraption constitutes the laziness saturation point — unless someone creates a body-sized loofah that you can soap up and stick to a shower wall or roll around on in a jacuzzi. Don’t steal that. It’s mine you lazy bastards. If you’re not insulted that someone thinks you might be lazy enough to purchase this, something might be seriously wrong with you.

Gotta go now. Time for my midday nap.