Work Twerk

So. There’s a guy here at work.
He…Ummm…is not my favorite.
Mostly because I think he believes he should be my favorite.
And I have never given him any sort of indication that he’s my favorite co-worker.
Mostly because he isn’t.

He called me at work after he’d left for the day.

Him: Hey. Can you do me a favor?
Me: I don’t know.
Him: I’d really appreciate it if you did.
Me: Well. Tell me what the favor is, THEN I can tell you if I can do it.
Personally, I don’t think it’s mean to want to know what it is you want.
You’re the one asking for the favor, mother fucker.
I don’t owe you shit.

Turns out I *could* do the favor for him. He left his iPad at work and he needed me to lock it up for him.

But, seriously. DUDE. I’m not in the habit of just saying yes and I don’t even know what the fuck it is you want from me.
ESPECIALLY, work people who tap dance on my nerves just by existing in the same space as I do.

Did I ever tell y’all about the time I met Charlotte Rae?

I did! At work.
And then my boss made me take her to lunch at the Café.

I was pretty stoked because HI. I’m 42 years old!
What child of the 80’s didn’t watch Different Strokes/Facts of Life?
(They came on back to back, back in the day)
(when I was young I’m not a kid anymore, but sometimes, I sit and wish I was a kid again)
(dammit with the songs. I can’t turn it off)
I got to ask her questions, and be all low-key fangirly.
I’m NEVER fangirly, guys. I told Al Pacino I’d spank him.
BUT. I was fangirly.
She was really nice (read: TOLERANT)
She also paid for lunch.
And later, she brought me (and another co-worker) a really sweet mug as a thank you gift that I still eat ice cream out of today.

Also. Did you know that Charlotte Ray was the first African-American female lawyer in the United States?
She graduated from Howard University School of Law in 1872. (Let’s hear it for HBCUs, y’all!)
AND. She was also the first female admitted to the District of Columbia Bar, and the first woman admitted to practice before the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia.
AND! Her admission was used as a precedent by women in other states who sought admission to the bar.

Ray opened her own law office and ran advertisements in a newspaper run by Frederick Douglass.
Charlotte Ray was said to be eloquent, authoritative, and “one of the best lawyers on corporations in the country”.
HOWEVER, She only practiced for a few years because prejudice against African Americans and women made her business unsustainable.
Ray eventually moved to New York, where she became a teacher in Brooklyn.

In March 2006, The Northeastern University School of Law (Boston, MA) chapter of Phi Alpha Delta Law Fraternity International chose to honor Ray by naming their newly chartered chapter after her, in recognition of her place as the first female African-American attorney.

WHAT. You say these aren’t the same people? Is this one of those cases Jack Johnson vs. Jack Johnson?
Yes it is!
Sometimes y’all get facts on random connections like the same name. Because I DO WHAT I WANT.
Even though I’ll be honest and tell y’all that I feel like I’m getting a cold
which means that I took cold medicine and NOW I have medicine head and when I looked up this fact I was like

And then I was like, OH. Maybe I should notice these names are spelled differently.
And that I probably woulda been HIGH KEY FANGIRLING if I had met the woman who made it possible for the FLOTUS to be a lawyer.
And I probably wouldn’t have asked her about Tootie.


This wraps up this year’s Black People Doing Important Shit Even When White People May Not Want Them To History Month. Also known as February.
Sorry y’all didn’t get your I hate Disney Post. Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll make more movies with black people as animals soon.
And I didn’t get to other stuff I WANTED to send y’all. (Yes, Miss…I know I owe you one. I got you)

February happens EVERY YEAR.
Along with the keeping you on your toes e-mails.

And just remember! If you ever get tired of my bullshit with some facts of life thrown in, THE INTERNET IS NOT JUST FOR PORN, it’s for HISTORY. The black kind.

See you next time!

The Oscars are coming!

And I’ve only seen HALF of the Oscar Best Picture nominated films.
Never fear! This weekend, I’ll be somewhere watching the ones I haven’t seen draped
across somebody’s couch while wrestling my water bottle and lollipops from greedy baby hands.
#naughtybabies #theyARETOOidentical #yesIusehashtagsinemails #DEAL

So today’s fact is kind of a gimme. BUT. TODAY’S FACT is also a two-fer.
Because last night I couldn’t sleep. And because I didn’t sleep, my brain isn’t really working the way it should.
Which I guess isn’t saying much, because… HI.

*ahem* In 1963, Sir Sidney Poitier (said with requisite French accent) became the first black person to win an Academy Award for Best Actor. This fact is not to be confused with Ms. Hattie McDaniel, who was the first black person to EVER win an Academy Award. Which is almost 40 years (38 to be exact) before another black person won an award. Not to say they weren’t nominated, but yannow. Close only counts in shit fights and horse shoes (and hand grenades!)

Relatedly, I’m saying all this to say that black people have come a long way in the moving picture industry. When Hattie McDaniel won her award, she sat at a segregated table and came in a side entrance because you know…RACISTS. These days we can come right up the red carpet with the rest of the (white) people! Still not winning lots of awards because…Hollywood. I mean, MAYBE I’m exaggerating. But. The first black person to WIN a screenplay Academy Award won it in 2009. The first person to be nominated was in 1972. I’m pretty sure that black people have written screenplays that have been adapted to awesome ass movies worthy of critical acclaim and celebration.

In all honesty, I’m just waiting for a time when black people aren’t being labeled THE FIRST. Because all that really does is point out how many places we’ve been excluded and are finally getting a foot in the door. I guess I’m waiting for the time when black people aren’t still coming, because we’re already here.

And speaking of coming, here’s today’s two-fer. Also a FIRST. I’m not sorry that I’m not sorry at all. It’s totally safe for work.

Happy Monday!


I don’t just have ridiculous conversations with other people…

I have them with my husband too.

In order to get anything that The Man has stored in the garage, I have to submit a request to “Supply”. Yes. *HE* is Supply. So, in case you were thinking I’m the only ridiculous person in this relationship, you were wrong. SO VERY WRONG.

Anyways, my prima asked to borrow some chairs the day before her jewelry party. I sent an e-mail to Supply because I figured it would be easier. It was not.

Dear Supply, Prima is having a jewelry party tomorrow and wants to know if she can have a few extra chairs for me to take over. Do I need to submit a handwritten request or can I submit an electronic one?

Dear Briya,Thank you for inquiring about chairs availability. You didn’t ask if we had chairs available, you just assumed. In your request, please ask for availability. ALSO: It has been brought to the attention of supply, that you still have an item checked out. Please ensure, that you return all previously checked out items, before asking for more stuff.

AND? Please submit request in writing.

Dear Supply, Are there chairs available for use tomorrow afternoon for a jewelry party? ALSO: My fekking suitcase is by the door waiting on your ass to put it away.

Dear Briya, your tone is out of place.

Dear Supply, You started it.

Dear Briya, I do believe we talked about last minute supply request and the charge.

Dear Supply, I got the request today, which is why I wanted to submit it ELECTRONICALLY.

Dear Briya, Please ensure that supply receives a paper request for items, as we need to keep records of issued items. Supply will be closing today at 3:15pm. If you have not returned your last borrowed item by the time you read this, your supply account will be suspended for 2 weeks.

Dear Supply, That’s BS! I don’t even get home until 8 tonight.

Dear Briya, Supply is closed.

Dear Supply, You SUCK.

Dear Briya, SO.


I forward my e-mail to Prima with a comment: I’ll call you when I get the chairs tomorrow. Supply is being a jerkface.




I went to the movies!

Last night I went to see the Dark Knight Rises. 

I’m not going to spoil it for anyone. Except to say: I loved it. It was awesome; you should see it. AND it was brought to my attention that a better film choice for us women to see is Magic Mike. To which I say, what a load of bullshit. We DEFINITELY made the better choice.

ANYWAYS. A trailer for Man of Steel showed. I HAD NO IDEA THERE WAS A NEW SUPERMAN MOVING COMING OUT. *ahem* And then the guy behind me starts complaining.


Me: Are you serious, dude? We’re sitting in sold out theatre getting ready to watch BATMAN*. 


I’m pretty sure the irony was lost on him.


*Yes, I am a delight to take out in public.

As you can tell, my weekend was pretty uneventful

Friday I went to Happy Hour with The Man’s best friend, because coincidentally he works in the building next door. And my friend went with me because even though *I* didn’t think he’d ever try to roofie my drink, my friend wasn’t so sure. He didn’t. He DID, however, try to keep us there all night, so we WALKED (about a mile and a half?) back to our parking lot, and on the way got tossed out of some BET Award party we crashed that they were having at the SLS Hotel.

Saturday, The Man had to spend all of his Saturday trying to fix my window that RANDOMLY fell off the track, while I spent a large portion of my day sitting in the worlds most uncomfortable chair. While watching NASCAR. Which, WTF? She finally changed the channel to the Kardashians. Which I’ve never seen up until then. I guess she didn’t notice ’cause she was on the phone.

Sidenote: I’m sure I’ve mentioned the lady who braids my hair is African? She spent a significant amount of time on the phone talking about somebody. I really wish that I could understand her, because it had her ALL RILED UP. Also? I totally wanted to tweet that but she was looking DIRECTLY INTO MY PHONE from her view.

Related: I wanted to start looking at porn, just to see if she’d admit to being nosey. But I DIDN’T want to piss her off because y’all don’t even know how cheap her prices for my very awesome braids.

Sunday, I had to take The Brat to Anime Expo. And then my BIL called to ask me to babysit at the last minute.

He didn’t leave the carrier that he always sits in.

And he forgot his binky. Which he apparently can’t live without.



So. How was y’all’s weekend?



My (not so lumpy) lady lumps

Okay, really.

This is pretty much THE LAST POST about my boobs. It’s really just an update, for all the people who may have been “WELL? DID YOU HAVE SURGERY OR NOT?!”

I did.

Easy peasy. Done in outpatient surgery. Sent home with a bucket of Vicodin and an ice pack.

I’ve got a month off to recuperate. And catch up on my homework. And TV shows that I’ve been DVR’ing, but not watching. And do things during the day that I’d normally have to take time off to do. That, of course, will be after I feel better, but before I have to return to work. I’m hoping that this will work out to be at least 2 weeks.

In the meantime, The Man has been making sure I take my meds, feeding me and checking in on me from time to time. And of course, providing sympathy when required:

Me: This newest scar is not pretty at all.

The Man: I think it gives you character.

Me: Really..?

Him: Yeah. You can just tell people you got stabbed in the tit in a bar fight.

Yeah, that’s my man y’all. He always knows just what to say to make me feel better.



The one where I take more pictures…

The last time I did the picture challenge, I didn’t finish. But I had a lot of fun trying.

This month, Miss and Megan and their love of all things Friends brought this particular photo challenge. So I’m trying again. And with all of my free time, this should be easy right?

I guess we’ll see.

Day 1

I don’t ever drink coffee drinks at home. BUT. This coffee mug with my friends doing headstands on it? Is my favorite coffee mug ever.

Wanna join? Follow the hashtag #FRIENDSpc and add your pics to the Flickr pool.

Veteran’s Day is every day, really

(Which is good, because I just got around to writing this post)

This past week was a double whammy for The Man.

His birthday (He turned 236. Happy Birthday, Honey) was November 10th. And Veteran’s day was the 11th.

I would have liked to done something to celebrate, but we couldn’t. Because I spent a large portion of this week with him in the hospital. He has a completely inexplicable recurring illness that can’t be diagnosed, nor cured. It comes without warning, and all we can do is wait for it to pass.

It’s a souvenir of his first deployment to Kuwait in 1990. He signed up in 1989, right after he graduated from high school. And before he could settle down to his very first duty station, he had orders for his first deployment. After he did his 4 years, he talked about getting out. Told me that he was going back to civilian life, going  to school, blah blah blah.

But he didn’t; he went back for more. Two unaccompanied tours to Okinawa, Three deployments to Afghanistan/Iraq. At least 5 military moves with the family, and all that entails:  including changing schools for 2 kids, and figuring out whether we were going to live on/off base, and supporting a wife who worked intermittently because just when she got comfortable somewhere, it was time to change duty stations. And then leaving said wife and kids because he had a field op/deployment/some other thing that he had to leave for several months missing birthdays, anniversaries, and other things he would have preferred not to miss.

That is what military life is. Missing things that you’d rather not miss, doing things that (sometimes) you’d rather not do. BUT. Being a Marine was what he wanted to do for as long as he can remember.  And even when he hated it, he loved it. 

I’m pretty sure that if he never heard one “thank you” in his entire years of service, he still would have done it. It’s the life he chose for himself.

Still. It’s nice that people are grateful. ‘Cause I don’t know that I’d want to risk my life for y’all motherfuckers.

Just sayin’