I am closing saving alice down. To work on a different project. Once I have it developed a little I will put a link up here, but it think that most of you will not be interested in the new content.
Thank you for reading, I have enjoyed your comments and thoughts!


Stereotyping is FUN!

It went down like this:
At work pouring drinks Liza looks pissed off.
So I says: You like pissed, what up?
Liza: People always think black people are mad if they're not smiling.
Me: Yup, that's right- it's cuz you black.
Liza: Oh well, people always think I look angry if I'm not smiling.

Later... Pouring drinks again.
Liza: Man, Europeans are always SO nice to me, I don't know why!
Me: It's because of Apartheid. Europeans have a lot of guilt over that.
Liza: Huh? What's that?


3 (or is it 4) degrees of seperation

I met my hairdresser through my ex boyfriends mom. She bought me a gift certificate for a salon I couldn;t dream of affording and sent me to see Trina, the woman who has been doing her hair for years.
Trina was ofcourse freaking awesome.
She is an incredibly talented hair dresser... that seems some how the wrong title.
Trina is a hair God.
No one else on the planet gets to touch my hair.
Not after the last time. When my hair was 2 different lengths. An inch longer on the left side than the right.

Family dinner at the boys.
Turns out my 35 year old hair god is great friends with the boys 20 year old sister.
Did I tell the boys mom why I broke up with the ex?
If I did did she tell the sister.
Will she tell the hair God.
Will the hair God tell the exes mom who already knows because I told her months ago.
A year ago.

A year ago.
What will be said?
And do I care.

I left a year ago.
I smile more.
I'm not as tense.
I have more friends.
I am myself and I have fought to be the person I am today.

And I just want to have a little class.
I just want the past to be past.


The boy and I did a world beer tasting recently.
W picked up a bottle of beer from 6 different countries and then we drank it.
Sometimes we gagged on it.

We liked:
Asahi from Japan
Tusker from Kenya
King Fisher from India

Not so much into the UK beer

What do you guys like? Any suggestions?


If there is a rope

If there is a rope I have probably reached the end of it. Working so much that my mind skips beats. My mouth hangs open in a constant yawn. I have cut the rope. For now. Caught a cold. So am taking well deserved time off from day job.
But mostly I need change. A fresh start. A new beginning to get me through to the end of the summer with a well padded wallet and a few adventures under my belt.

Some places some people just drain energy. And that is my day job. It leaves me empty and frustrated at the same time.

I need some summer sunshine.

Who's Who?

I work in a building full of handicaps.
Staff and clients a like.
It can be hard to tell them apart sometimes.
Thats why they give the staff blue id tags to wear about their necks.
To tell the handicaps, from the stupid people they have hired to watch the handicaps.



I am sorry I have been a neglegent blogger. I am off in the reall world working 60-80 hours/week. Trying to pay off the visas. Set back by $1600 in car repairs this month. Lola needed new tires. Lola need new brakes. Lola needed new struts. Strut mounts were too rusty to attach struts to. New strut mounts. And now Lola is an oil change away from being ready for my greatest adventure yet.... Driving over the mountains and towards the ocean. A visit to my family away from family.
If I could sell a Kidney instead of work so much I think I would.
But being a slave to the almighty buck builds character.

More like builds reality.


I will actually continue a story for once...

Last Friday I returned home to an usually quiet house. Usually Friday nights are a bustle of unGodly noise. The children will be running around with some school friend that is spending the night. The dog will be chasing them barking and snapping at their heels. The TV is on full blast blaring a Hannah Montana video or the latest movie remake of some 80's cartoon- Batman, or Transformers usually. I was a little later than usual, the little hand was just trailing behind 9.
Not wanting to disturb the unusual peace I slipped into the house unnoticed, dropped my bag with a muted thud and slipped out of my sensible kitten heels. I stretched and shook off the days worries. No one was in the kitchen, although the dishwasher hummed on the rinse cycle. The livingroom too was empty, the tv off, toys picked up and put back in their chest. I wondered greatfully up the stairs. All was well. The week had been long and arduous. I was looking forward to a weekend of nothing but kids playing in the backyard while the sprinkler ran, and the bbq grilled every meat and vegetable possible.
The kids rooms were neat and tidy as well. Lola, my 13-year-old, had left her bedroom light on. She did not seem to be home. I rembered that she had a gymnastics party that night. My husband had in a rare turn of events taken the night away from wooing clients and was helping to chaperone the event.
Riley's light was off. I crept up to the room without breathing, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping. I pushed the door open a crack and it creaked, jarring me, my nanny and my son. Rileys tangle of brown curls had been turned away from me. He was sitting in her lap. Breastfeeding. Riley turns 6 next month.


Some suspense for your weekend...

Have you ever fired your nanny? It's a dreadful task really. For everyone involved. She is the closest person to your children. Closer than you are, though that is horrible to admit. I might be the one to put my children to bed everynight but she is the one who gets them up in the morning, packs their lunches, and drops them off at school. After school she picks them up, helps with their homework, and cooks them dinner. She helps with their homework, listens to their problems, takes them to soccer. I put them to bed every night. I can't help to feel jealous of her, the time she spends with them, but I wouldn't give my job up for anything.
I had to fire her. Lucy. She was 19 when we hired her. Philipino. Mother or 2. She left her kids behind in the Philipines, to come and raise ours. I tried not to feel guilty about that. But I could never quite get over it. Thats probably why I let her get away with so much. I knew she napped while the kids watched tv. I knew she used some of the grocery money to buy the kids McDonalds when she didn't feel like cooking. I even knew that she stole cash from my wallet when I left it out. But I also knew she sent her entire paycheck home for her kids. I never would have expected what happened last Friday...

My New Hair