what are your thoughts on the issue?

cheers, buyaka!
k

“There are some circles in America where it seems to be more socially acceptable to carry a hand-gun than a packet of cigarettes.”
~ Katharine Whitehorn

Hi there boys and girls!

I know, I know. It’s been a long time since I last posted and I’ve been feeling terrible about it. But hey, it’s a busy time for the empire so I hope you’ll forgive me for slacking. Anyway, I thought I’d make it up to you by catching you up on all the goings-on with me over the last couple of weeks. Ready? Here goes.

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I’m trying to reserve judgement on this, but I can’t help but be profoundly disturbed by the story of Thomas Beatie.

Beatie, a 34-year old husband and soon-to-be parent, wasn’t always the man he is today. He was born a woman. After spending most of his life as Tracy, Beatie decided to begin testosterone therapy and to undergo surgical breast removal so that s/he could assume the role of a man.

You’d think that’d be shocking enough. But wait, there’s more.

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Ok. Once I got over the initial shock of discovering that I might actually be white, I realized that there was no way in hell I could let my mother know… I mean, it’d break her heart!

So I figured I’d better try and redeem myself and set the record straight by giving you the skinny on what black people like, as only a black person could tell ya!

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I was trolling through a fellow Atlantan’s blog last week and happened upon a post she’d written about a site called, ‘Stuff White People Like’. “Oh this oughta be interesting,” I thought and clicked on over to check the site out. After about 5 minutes perusing the list, I made a shocking discovery.

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I pretty much began to consider leaving my job, oh…about 26 minutes after I started working here. But I decided that it’d be better to stick it out and see what I could get out of the place before I made my resume look like I have ADD. Anyway, a recent series of fortunate events have opened up an opportunity for me to work in (what I hope will be) greener pastures, so I’ve finally made the decision to switch plantat…er, i mean jump ship.

 The problem with the whole 2-week notice thing is that once you let everyone know that you’re a short-timer, you’re immediately seized by this listless, languorous feeling that is a direct side effect of knowing that you’re no longer on the hook to perform, just to show up. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s awfully hard to keep up the façade of being a hard worker, when you know nobody cares anyway.

Well, tomorrow is officially my last day, so on this, the eve of my departure, I’ve decided to take some time to reflect on the last 10 days . Read: I’ve pretty much run out of other ways to goof off.

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