Pink Cadillacs and New Math.

Overcast Atlanta Skyline.

 Random non-medically related rambling ahead. . . .

The weather was crappy here this weekend. Overcast and dreary. Too wet to really hang out or do much. Too warm to enjoy your cold weather fashion.

Oh--you didn't know? The only good thing about cold weather is cold weather fashion. Mmm hmmm.

What the weekend was good for was snuggling. Zachary and I got some superior snuggling in on Saturday. Isaiah was at a play date and Harry was in and out running errands.

The snuggling was Zachary's idea which made it win-win considering how dog-tired I was. He decided that we'd take a nap together because he "was exhausted after his basketball game."

Oh you didn't know? Five year old full court hoops is exhausting people. Exhausting.

image from the Epic Saturday snugglefest, courtesy of Harry's cell phone

Oh!

You aren't going to BELIEVE this. Wait. Let me say it how I really want to say it.  Y'all ain't gon' believe this! Yes. You have to hear this mess that happened right here in the Atlanta area this year. As in 2012-this year. You will think I'm making it up, but I promise you I am not!

Okay, so check it. How 'bout this school in Gwinnett County, Georgia sent some homework home with some third graders that said something like this:

"A tree has 56 oranges on it. If eight slaves pick an equal amount of oranges, how many oranges would each slave pick?"

What-what-whaaaaat????? (insert wrinkled face here)

Oh, and if that wasn't enough. . . . how 'bout this one:

"Frederick gets two beatings per day. How many beatings does Frederick get in a week? Two weeks?"


Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat???????

No, people. I am not making this up. Nor am I exaggerating.

Yeah, Denzel. I thought this was some bulljive, too!

Can I please tell you that this happened last week? As in January of 2012 last week? Can I also tell you that Gwinnett County is less than thirty minutes north of where I live and happens to be where my mother lives?  Bananas. Just bananas.

Slave beatings? Slave beatings? Seriously?! Seriously.

So I know you are wondering what I was wondering--what were they thinking? Oh, well according to the spokesperson for the school, this was an attempt at a "cross-curricular assignment." Oh come on, y'all. . . .don't be so sensitive. You know. . . . a little social studies mixed in with the math. Come on! Isn't that exactly what someone wants their third grader to get in school? A little imagery of somebody's great-great-great granddaddy getting treated worse than cattle in the numerator and somebody's great-great-great grandmama getting impregnated by mas'a against her will in the denominator?

Umm, okay.

That's all I'll say on that. And someone asked why folks still have to give "the nod."

For more information on that story, just go to:

www.WHATTHEHELLWASTHESEFOOLSTHINKIN.NOTHEYDI-INT.OHYESTHEYDID.com


Heh.

Let me switch reels before I drop an f-bomb.

Oh! Quick question--should doctors tell other doctors that they're doctors? I mean, when you go to a hospital or something, should you come right on out and disclose your doctorhood? This is what I am wondering.

I was visiting a friend in the hospital last week and was slightly annoyed by how the doctor explained things to my hospitalized friend. But it's not like I fronted like I was just one of the homies. That guy knew I was a fellow physician because my friend told him so. But still--I was wondering what's the rule on that. What do y'all think? Maybe he gave that crappy explanation because he thought I would fill in the blanks. Maybe.

What else? Oh. Yeah!

I went to the eyebrow threaders today. I was looking a woolly mess and was very sad to learn that my favorite threader-lady had moved to Chicago. Say it ain't so! It gets worse. Lady-next-to-my-lady wasn't there and the only other people there were butcher-brow lady and some lady that I didn't know. Now clearly I wasn't going to butcher-brow lady so I took a deep breath and gambled on new-lady.

Epic FAIL.

Okay, not EPIC. But definitely a fail. In addition to my eyebrows being asymmetric, I also have a slight bit of Curious George action going on. Not quite as bad as the Great Manscaping Debacle, but still. I just should have come back later for a more predictable eyebrow job.

Yeah. So if you see me and I look surprised to see you--it's just the eyebrows, not you.

Is it normal for Target to be a form of therapy? Some people drink when they need to blow off steam. Some work out. Some eat an entire tub of ice cream. Me? I resort to what I like to call the T.T.R. (therapeutic Target run.)  This is when you go to Target absolutely needing nothing whatsoever. Just because.

Well today I needed some Target therapy to ease the annoying parts of my week. I even went to Target Greatland which is kind of like making it a double.

Today I walked in through the out door (because that's what you do on a T.T.R.) and hit the dollar bins. Not because I wanted something. Just because I wanted to look at them. Next was the children's clothing. Nothing much there. I scooted over to look at the drug store make-up which I must admit is one of my favorite things of all. Two L'oreal lipsticks later, I headed over to get some snacks because I think I might be snack mom soon for Isaiah's class or Zachary's basketball team. Of course I look at the clothes for women. Miraculously, nothing really caught my eye. In the end, I left with kid snacks, two lipsticks and a pair of gnarly gloves that allow you to use your smartphone while wearing them.

Oh, did I mention? A successful T.T.R. shouldn't exceed $25. It's an art, I tell you.

Oh yeah. When I was looking at the air fresheners and fabric softeners, this woman walked by me and smiled. Her smile was almost flirtatious. Then she stopped, smiled again and then turned around to come back to me.

"Excuse me," she said cheerfully, "Do you mind me asking you a question?"

Now. This woman appeared to be in her late twenties and was dolled up in a trendy little outfit. Her hair was in perfect ringlets and her makeup looked like it had been applied at a department store makeup counter five minutes before.  In her hand was a fancy pocket book with some sort of designer scarf tied around it. Her smile was strikingly white and she was grinning so wide that you could see both the top and bottom row of those fluorescent sparklers.

Quick! What do you think happened next?

Do you think she hit on me? Was she lost? Did she mistake me for Halle Berry? (What? It could happen!)

Well, let me tell you. I knew exactly what she was about to say before she even asked that question. Yep, I sure did.

And so, I took a chance and countered, "Only if I can ask you a question first."

And she kept that high watt smile going and replied with a cute little wrinkle of her nose, "Absolutely!"

That's when I knew for certain where she was going with this drive by.

And so I asked her: "Do you work for Mary Kay?"

Yep. That was my million dollar question. And that bottom row of teeth disappeared for the first time as she nodded in the affirmative.

Arrrggghhh! Have I told y'all about how for some reason I'm a Mary Kay Cosmetics Saleslady magnet? It's the craziest thing! They almost always walk by me. Stop. Smile. And then double back and ask the exact same question every time: "Excuse me--do you mind me asking you what you do for a living?"

I am not kidding.  This has happened to me in malls. In Targets. In restaurants. And even once next to a lady on a plane. In my head I'm always saying, "Wait for it. . .wait for it. . . ."

Man. I don't know whether to be deeply flattered or deeply offended because clearly I am meeting some sort of Mary Kay Lady criteria. Not kidding.

Anyways. I let homegirl know that I wasn't interested in getting in on the Mary Kay action so she kept it moving. Before she even got to her first pitch. I just hate wasting people's time, that's all.

Maybe I should hold out for that pink cadillac that high sellers from Mary Kay get!

Me and the B.H.E. had a wonderful date night on Friday. We picked up some burgers from this new burger joint in the Morningside area and then came home and watched a movie on demand. The movie was called "Hall Pass" -- have you seen it? Absolutely laugh out loud funny. Kind of naughty at times though. Just saying before somebody rents it from a Red Box and hates me afterwards.

What else? Oh. Last night I was walking out of Barnes and Noble and this woman says to me, "Excuse me are you single? I have a match making service and thought I'd ask you."

Seriously? Seriously.

A matchmaker? Lawd. If it isn't Mary Kay ladies it's a matchmaker. Ay yi yi. . . .I need a makeover.

Hmmm. . .what's next?

Oh. Is it bad that my kids wore their pajamas for the entire day today? Is it even worse that their "pajamas" consisted of soccer shorts and t-shirts so technically those pseudo-peejays became their clothes for the day? Horrible, I know. It was Isaiah who brought this to my attention.

That's all I've got. What's up with y'all?

 ***
Happy Sunday.


Oh and one more random. . . I love this commercial and all of the ones from Obama's fatherhood initiative. Sure is a lot more positive than math problems about slave beatings. . . um yeah.