Expiration Dates Part II

When I posted the last post Expiration Dates.... something didn't seem right about, I felt like something was missing from it. Well I thought and thought about and I realized what that something was. It was not just about the fact that some relationships have expiration dates and figuring out if your relationship has one or if it doesn't. What was missing was the point about dealing with relationships or people in general after their expiration date has pasted. Dealing with people, relationships, or things after their expiration date is never a good idea because it usually ends up all bad. Real bad.... Michael Jackson Bad.

Like when you see a carton of milk in your refrigerator, the expiration date has past but for some reason you open up that carton and take a whiff of the milk.... smh. The smell damn near knocks you off your feet and not in a good way, we've all done it. We looked at the date and saw that the milk expired a week ago but for some reason we open that damn carton like we don't know that shit is almost cottage cheese at this point and we purposely smell that shit. Why do we double check to see if the milk is really bad? Like Mayfield and the other milk companies are putting expiration dates on shit because its cute, and makes the packaging look cool. No its a safety regulation.... there are laws in place stating that this information must be on products to warn people of the risk involved of consuming that product after a certain amount of time. But there we are in kitchen takes whiffs and saying YOLO to laws that are in place to protect us. Its just like telling a child that the stove is hot and they don't believe you and touch the stove anyway and then burn the shit out of their hands. Then you're looking at them, like I told you so. Well the USDA told you that milk when bad a week ago but there you are acting like you don't know this information that is clearly stated on the package. Hell some people are out here pouring bowls of Cheerios and using that same expired ass milk in their cereal.. to those people God Bless. Because you're a glutton for punishment and obviously have a stomach made of steel.

I have dealt with someone after the expiration date, I knew that the milk had gone bad weeks ago but there my ass was in the kitchen taking whiffs of cottage cheese milk. It got me no fucking where, no I take that back it got me taking Imodium A-D and listening to Adele's 19.... not even 21. That Chasing Pavements heart complications.... it wasn't a heartbreak because it was already broken before I went back and whiffed the milk after the expiration date. So everything after I realized that expiration date had pasted was just a complication, I was just rubbing salt in the wound and picking the scab. The wound was already there and I wasn't letting it heal and was just making shit worst. If you see the expiration date has pasted, I know its human nature at times but don't open that milk! All that awaits you is cottage cheese milk and stomach ache. Sure it won't kill you but if you want cottage cheese take your ass to the store and buy some, don't try to make it yourself.... you're not making it the correct way and it won't turn out the right way.

So Live Your Life

A while ago someone asked me what my biggest fear was, at the time I said Mitt Romey becoming President of the United States of America. Which it actually was at the the time but the typically answers people give never came to my mind. Such as death, heights, stretch marks, wired hangers, waking up and the Walking Dead is real life…. Etc. My actually biggest fear is living an unfulfilled life. What I mean by this; is me looking back at my life when I’m damn near about to retire and see I haven’t done shit with my life expect go to work for the past 25 years. That’s what the hell I’m talking about. I know people like this and I'm sure you do too, and the shit is borderline depressing. I just want to ask these people WTF did you do with your life in the 80’s-90’s other than work and go home and watch Cheers and Oprah every day and eat Cheez-Its?

There are no stories to tell… no trips, no kids to be proud of or to ashamed of, no crazy stories of what they did in their 20’s, 30's or 40's, no spouses to cherish or to be ready to get rid of like yesterday’s trash. It’s like their lives were; I went to college got a degree, got a job (the same one since 1988), got a home and I’m waiting on The Good Wife to come on to give me some type of entertainment. Some of these people don't even have hobbies. No gardening, collecting stamps, crossword puzzles, stalking a person's Facebook page. Its zip nada zilch going on with them. It's sleep, work, eat, and TV. It’s like what happened to you that you choose to or want to live this shell of a life. I’m not saying to your life needs to mimic that of a Diddy video from 1996. If you’re not about that party like its 1999 and its 2013 life, than don’t be about it. However I don’t see how some people choose to live their lives that of Mister Rogers walking around in that boring ass neighborhood.

There are a small percentage of these people that are actually content in the lives they have leaded and are leading… and to those I say do you boo. On the flip side a vast majority of these folks didn’t want to go down the paths their lives have taken them and are frontin’ like this is the life they want.  To the people I say GOOD DAY!! You aren’t happy with the way you choose to live your lives, you wanted something more but maybe you were too chicken shit to go after it. Maybe you wanted to have an Eat.Pray.Love moment but couldn’t because you had bills, or the person you loved once upon a time rejected you and you swore off love, or you just lived your life for your parents and didn’t want to take chances for fear of disappointing them. Whatever the case was, at the end of the day those are your choices and no one else’s. The thing that kills me about people like this is that when they see someone living life or attempting to live life to their fullest potential, these Bitter Betties and Bobs paws come out. The hate from these down and out folks goes to level red terror alert; these folks are wild, fast in the ass, hoes, amoral…..etc. Why because they rather go to the game than watch that shit on TV or because they rather go to the bar than sit at home and knit with you?  Just because a person is out in the streets doesn’t make them a street rat and just because they’re in the club doesn’t mean they’re poppin’ a Molly and sweatin. It just means they don’t want a boring ass life like yours; maybe they just want something more.

This can't be life as we know it.

So Where Are You From?

So as you may or may not know I moved to another city recently its been a crazy couple of months. Well, I moved to Chicago!! Its a beautiful city and full of great food and great people I can't say I love it yet but I definitely don't hate it. Its just different and I'm doing my best to take it all in stride.  Between quitting my job and trying to find a new (this right here has been a struggle). Saying goodbye to old friends and making new ones, things have good, bad, ugly, and somewhere in between all of these things.

The one thing I will say is I didn't realize how southern I was until moving here. Between people asking me where I'm from every time I open my mouth and folks saying I must not be from around here. I'm starting to question things about me and people from the south in general. The first time someone asked me where I was from was when I went on a job interview and the security guard claimed I must not be from Chicago. I asked him why, he said " because you said good morning to everybody you saw in the building, people don't really speak to other people around here like that".  I told him, "where I'm from you speak to people, its just common courtesy".  He went on the say well something about being careful who I spoke to up here and that I just couldn't talk to any and everybody. That this wasn't the country, I'm in the big city now so I shouldn't be going around here acting like Pollyanna.

Y'all know I wanted to go in on his ass but that wouldn't be the "southern belle" thing to do, so I just smiled and thanked him for the heads up. I was pissed by his comments, even though I know he was trying to be helpful. First of all sir, I said I was from the south/Atlanta not from the damn country. That is highly offensive to me (no offensive to my country people) but I've been to the country many times, the damn back woods of Mississippi to be precise and please believe me I'm nowhere near country. The town I'm talking about is so small that there's only one grocery store (Piggly Wiggly) and that bitch ain't even open on Sundays. So southern yes I am but country f*ck no! I had another guy tell me I wasn't gonna make up here because I smile too much,  ummmm excuse me sir but what in sam hell is that suppose to mean?  I just can with these somewhat rude ass people up here. Its not even like I'm going around smiling like a jackass or something. I just believe in being polite, well most of the time anyway and not walking around like somebody stole my bike and killed my dog all on the same day. So if that makes me Pollyanna well that's just fine and dandy but I do somewhat turn into Blanche Deveraux with enough red wine. I rather be the perfect combination of these two people any day of the week, than half of these rude and savage people walking around here but I still love Chicago.