Woody Allen
(via thechocolatebrigade)
(via marfmellow)
Hello, old friend.
Sooooooo, yeah. I know. It’s been an eternity. I really don’t have an explanation. This blog is like that friend from high school that you were pretty cool with. Eventually you graduated and only spoke through facebook. Then you see each other face to face and don’t know what to say. I mean, you all used to be close enough that a simple “Hey! How are you? Great. Nice seeing you,” won’t be sufficient. But you have not talked in a while so there isn’t much to say. So what do you do? I have no clue. But I’m back. I think.
Im Just Saying….
We now interrupt your regularly scheduled blog for a bit of randomosity.
Why do people think it is ok to wear Blue Tooths in church? Are you expecting a call so urgent that you need to ensure that you are ready to answer??? If the phone rings, will you answer?? I know Jesus is on the mail line, but come on people. I’m just saying…
Do Unto Others
Anyone that lives in any major city in America is probably been approached by panhandlers asking for change, a meal or anything that you can spare. I must say that I have never been approach by as many panhandlers as I have here in New York. Walking around the city or on the train, you may see dozens. I usually don’t give them anything. This is mostly because I never have change.
This one particular day, however, I decided to help. I was in the line at Mickey Leland’s (McDonald’s) when I was approached by a guy in need of a meal. So I obliged. I ordered my food along with a COMBO for him. I stood in wait for the food with a half cracked smirk. I was proud of myself. I was doing my good deed for the day. The food arrived and after ensuring that my order was complete, I turned to him to give him his portion.
As he neared, I felt a sense of purpose. I was going to bring comfort to someone less fortunate than myself. I smiled and handed him the food, waiting to hear his unending appreciation for my help. Instead, he grabbed the bag, dug to the bottom and began beasting the French fries. I stood there for a few seconds, thinking that he was so overwhelmed that all he could do was eat.
My look of anticipation faded as he looked up at me for half a second, picked up his bag and walked out. That feeling of pride quickly turned into agitation. All he had to say was THANK YOU! I wanted to run after him and snatch the food out of his hand. After all, I didn’t have to give him anything and he should be grateful that I took time out of my day to help his behind. Before I took off in a full on sprint, I stopped myself. I had to remember that I did not help him to make myself feel good. I did it because he needed help and I was able to provide that help.
The lesson here is that, when helping others, you may not always receive gratitude or appreciation. That should not, however, stop you from doing a good deed.
My lesson leasrned: make sure you get your thank you before you hand them the bag. I’m just saying.
Right Hand Man
Its so funny how professional athletes get themselves caught up. Most recently Tiger Woods was outted for “allegedly” cheating on his wife. By now every joke had been told. Tiger is now a “Cheetah”…His black side was driving the Cadillac and his Asian side had the accident, etc. There have been countless news reports on the incident and new women appearing everyday claiming to have had sex with him. Being a lover of irony, I love how his wife attacked him with a golf club. Priceless.
But with everything that has happened with him in the past few weeks, I can’t help but think that the situation is all too TYPICAL. We have seen it before. We will see it again. It will never stop. Considering how many AVERAGE men succumb to their urges to cheat, one must assume that the pro athlete has it worse. I mean, we should all feel sorry for them. They are only human. It’s not like they are given a lifetime supply of hoe repellant when they sign up. How are they to know that there will be groupies in the restaurant, groupies in the bathroom, groupies in the parking lot, and groupies in the hotel rooms? There is only so much temptation that their flesh can handle. They are feeble beings in the face of loose women looking for a hand out…cough…I mean, very passionate fans.
For those of you with no sarcasm radar, the last six lines were complete and utter BULL. These guys know that women come with the territory. It’s no secret that the availability of beautiful women with low standards increases exponentially with one’s tax bracket. So, to prevent broken windows, crazy lawsuits, stolen property, paternity suits, slander and downright negativity, something needs to be done. In my opinion, these athletes have one of two choices.
1. DO NOT GET MARRIED OR PUT THEMSELVES IN ANY TYPE OF COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP. You can’t cheat if you have no one to cheat on. If they don’t think that they will be able to control themselves, then they should refrain from COMMITMENT. Their wives/girlfriends don’t want to be disrespected and I’m sure their children don’t either. (FYI: WHEN YOU CHEAT ON YOUR WIFE, YOU CHEAT ON YOUR KIDS TOO!)
2. DISCRETION! DISCRETION! DISCRETION! If you decided to cheat, ensure that you don’t get yourself in predicaments that will come back and bite you. For instance: leaving a message on your mistress’ phone and telling her to change her number for fear of you wife’s discovery of her identity, TEXT MESSAGES, EMAILS, CREDIT CARDS, putting your mistresses belongings in your name. I can’t speak for all women, but if I find that my hubby has a townhome and baby Benz that I have never seen, I’m going to be suspicious.
Since I know that most of these athletes will not heed my instructions, I have decided to make my entrepreneurial debut with Let That Hoe Know Inc. LTHK is the one stop shop for your infidelity needs. We provide alibis, disposable phones, travel accommodations, untraceable bank accounts and credit cards, security, transportation, “hush” money and legal advice…among other things. Consider us your right hand man. We will ensure that you “recreational” activities are kept under wraps, BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. At LTHK, our motto is “Everything is good to go, when you let that hoe know!”
The sad thing is….if LTHK really existed, I would be probably be rich. SMH.
Dinner Time!
Will Work For Food.
Funny how the recession has been blamed for so many things over the past few years. It seems that the cookie cutter response to most requests is “Girl, its a recession!” Many are cutting back in purchases. Others are not. Some are cutting coupons. Others couldn’t tell you where to find a coupon. Some are skipping that bi-weekly beauty appointment. Others wouldn’t dare erase their name from of the appointment book. The truth is, in many cases, the recession is what you make it. Some are affected dramatically with lost jobs and foreclosure in sight. While others merely remind themselves to be careful and make thoughtful financial decisions. When it comes to me, the current economic climate is coldest in the area of EMPLOYMENT.
I felt like I did everything I was instructed to do. Graduated from high school with honors and went on to a prestigious university. I did ok, cum laude. I Participated in extra curriculars (though they were not my life, as with some others). Obtained internships. One of which was phenomenal and put me in a seemingly great position for future employment. But with all of that, I’ve got nothing. I roam the job boards like a predator seeking its prey. Hungry and needing satisfaction. But it seems that I either find carcasses or plump prospects for which my level of experience prevents me from enjoying.
So I attend the career fair and I try and maintain my industry contacts. My job is job seeking. Is there any hope? While interning over the summer, I helped organize a thought leadership day. The keynote speaker spoke on the importance of older Americans, the baby-boomer set. In speaking about their relevance, he went on to say that the one person that he would hate to be at this point in history is the 22 year old recent college graduate. Well thanks a lot! If I wasn’t concerned about my future at that point, he convinced me to be. He proceeded to mention all of the strikes against us and the difficulty that would we would have in the coming years. So, again, I ask, IS THERE HOPE?!?
I’m sure that there is some hope. Some of my fellow grads have obtained employment. Others have opted for grad or portfolio school. I made the decision to give New York a try. I didn’t think it would be this difficult to find an advertising job in the advertising capital. But I have faith that something will come together. I tell myself that it will five times every morning. You know, that whole affirmation thing.
So if you find yourself talking to an advertising professional, don’t forget to mention your friend that is an aspiring STRATEGIC PLANNER, but that is open to ACCOUNT MANAGEMENT. Thanks.
I will find a job and have my cubicle apartment in BK! (or wherever I can find a deal) Yes I will!
Thank you, come again.
Soooo…I have a blog now. (YAY!)
Orange chicken (陳皮雞) is a Chinese American dish of Hunan origin. The variety of orange chicken most commonly found at American fast food restaurants consists of chopped, battered, and fried chicken pieces coated in a sweet orange-flavored chili sauce, which thickens or caramelizes to a glaze.
There won’t be any of that here. Well, there may be the occasional chopped, battered and fried chicken pieces. Orange chicken is a metaphor for my life. I am spicy, sweet, and delightfully frugal. :) Just kidding. That was pretty cheesy. But I do think I am a pretty good recessionista. lol. Honestly, orange chicken is what I had for dinner. After jokingly declaring it as my blog’s name, I figured ehhhhh, why not?
So this is it. Orange chicken. A mix of quirky curiosities, thought provoking candor, restaurant reviews, funny pictures, soapbox moments, interesting ideas, random randomosities, viral videos, social commentary and general WTFs. It will be just as delicious as the dinner that I enjoyed tonight. Hot and steamy, sweet and savory, tongue burning at times and great with rice. (Omit the rice thing.) So grab your chop sticks and enjoy. Or not. Maybe you’d prefer egg foo yung.
