How do YOU spell Happyness?

If you’re familiar with this blog then you are aware that I commute through DC everyday and I have found Connecticut Avenue can be very interesting. I don’t think anything will ever beat the afro mullet I saw in Cleveland Park years ago but it encouraged me to finally purchase a camera-phone.

I know I’ve mentioned some characters I’ve seen in my travels such as Walking Man, who I saw this week on Cathedral Avenue. Another one is Grandma Dressing Man who I saw just yesterday. He was wearing a floral matching skirt and top and it got me thinking… How does someone get to that point? He walks to and from Cleveland Park to work, in Van Ness, everyday wearing women’s clothing. What do his co-workers say? What does he do for a living that his job can look past what he wears and take him seriously?

I have so many questions and would love to be a fly on his wall. Well maybe just his wall at work. I can’t help but think he would have to be so incredibly confident and secure in himself to just do what makes him happy, which is wearing women’s clothing. This is the epitome of not caring what other people think and to a point that it may exclude people out of his life. I’m impressed that he is secure enough to do what it takes have happiness in his life, but I guess that depends on what makes a person happy. Isn’t one of the goals in life to just be happy?

Happiness is something I’ve contemplated for sometime now. What makes each of us happy is so incredibly different. When you’re feeling low what do you do to make yourself happy? My Mom knits and she’s spoken of my Sister’s “Happy Place” as the Starboard in Dewey. For me, often times its music and usually Bob Marley’s Could You Be Loved does wonders for me. Then again a hug from Mini Red will cure anything.

The other thing that does wonders for my state of mind is running. One day I hope to complete a marathon but for right now my schedule allows for once a week if I’m lucky. I’m not a great runner but if something is bothering me running is the best way to clear my head. When I first started running I hated it and it took a while to be more comfortable and figure out the form, pace and breathing. People always say you don’t need much to run and you don’t need any special equipment but you do. For women you need a really good sports bra. Then there are the clothes that wick away moisture to make you more comfortable but most importantly are the shoes. Personally, I have gotten over what I look like when I’m running and I’m not out to impress anyone because my goal is how I feel at the end of my run. Each person has their own way of doing all of this but can be interesting is to see what people wear when they run.

This morning I saw two women running on Connecticut Avenue that were stopped at a intersection. One was in spandex leggings and the other was in running shorts but both had short tops on bearing their middles. Now don’t get me wrong because I, definitely, don’t have a runner’s body but I could have pulled of those tops better than them.

I commend anyone for getting out there and exercising but their midriffs should NOT have been showing. There was a decent amount and it was jiggling all over the place. I couldn’t help but wonder if they had both recently given birth. Seems to be another case of being secure with yourself and I’m all for self confidence. So if you want to let it all hang out that’s cool too but I would think on the busy streets of DC some form of modesty should be maintained.

Maybe it’s all in the eye of the beholder? I find Grandma Dressing Man fascinating and I felt a little embarrassed for the Big Midriff Running Chicks. Others might feel completely different and be bothered by the likes of one or the other.

It boils down to everyone is trying to find their own happiness, people are fascinating creatures and the city seems to bring it all out. I guess I’ll sit back and watch it all because it seems to be something that makes me happy.

What’s in a Name?

For years I have use the names Dude and Chick to address people. Lately I have picked up Sista and Brotha, especially when I drive, e.g. “Let’s move along Brotha” or “Get off the phone Sista and pay attention to the road”. For some reason this keeps my road rage down.

When I ran a help desk at the Pentagon I got to know the people and I often called them Dude, unless I gave them a nickname. One man said I couldn’t call him “Dude”. When I asked why he said because he was too old to be referred to as Dude. So I started calling him “Mr. Dude”. I don’t think he liked this much either. Another guy called me so often for help and always sounded like he was whining so I named him “Waa waa”. It wasn’t long before he would call and say, “Red, this is Waa waa and I need your help.”

I realized it was rare that I used a person’s given name. So when a friend and I were discussing the fact that she never heard me say my ex’s name it hit me. If I said his name it would validate his existence. It must be a subconscious thing… go figure.

Maybe this was why I gave guys/dates nicknames. That when friends would say he was doomed since he would already have a nickname. There were the few rare cases I would mention a guy and he wouldn’t have a nickname. A few of the nicknames I gave were: The Cowboy, Boat Boy, The Brit, Hitt-Man, and Focker.

I started noticing how much I DIDN’T use people names. If I meet someone new I rarely use their name but once I do then I realize I’m comfortable with them and my psyche allows me to comfortably use their name.

I rarely use Mini Red’s friends’ names. I will call them things like Chiquita Banana or Little Mama. This has caused problems because it has become difficult for me to remember her classmate’s names let alone their parents’ names. I don’t think I can get away with calling other parents Dude, Chick, Brotha or even Sista.

Emails I tend to do a bit better but not always.

I’ve been working on using people’s names right off the bat and I’m making progress slowly but surely. So if I have given you a nickname, and you are not a possible date, this is a good thing. If I use your given name I’m comfortable with you and that means I validate your existence.

Now... If I've given you a nickname on the blog then that's a different story. I'm just protecting you and whatever silly thing you've done to warrant me writing about you. (just kidding)