Winston-Salem Police Department has installed a new notification system that allows residents to receive both emergency and non-emergency notifications via text, email or voicemail.
Residents are encouraged to visit CityofWS.org and click on the “Citizen Notification” link on the site. The new system requires that citizens give their address so that notifications can be sent based on where an individual resides.
Once an address is given, a map will appear on the screen that will require the individual to verify that the address that they gave is correct.
Winston-Salem’s previous system, Reverse911, was only able to reach citizens via landline telephones. This system, which allows citizens to register up to four telephone numbers, is able to send texts, emails or voicemails based on the individual preference. It also gives citizens the option to receive notifications about special meetings, notices, news and reminders when garbage collection is postponed by a holiday or disrupted by a winter storm.
“Emergency notifications provide an important means of alerting citizens of missing persons, criminal activity or hazardous conditions, such as flooding, fires, a chemical spill or a water main break in their neighborhoods,” Conley said. “As more and more citizens give up their landlines, finding a way to reach people who only have cellphones has become an important public safety issue. The new system gives us that ability and more – but we need our citizens to register.” (via press release)
Once registered, citizens can change notification preference or address at any time.
“We have structured this so citizens have control over their information and how it is used,” Conley said. “We urge everyone in Winston-Salem to sign up for the Citizen Notification System.”
I turn everything into so much more than what it is, and it kills me.
This guy just asked me, “Do you have a favorite drink?”
You would think that is a simple question, right?
Because you are completely wrong. It is NOT a simple question. It is a question that is filled with layers of other questions.
So he asked me what my favorite drink was, and here’s a glimpse into my mind for the 60 seconds following that question:
I like water. But who says that, really? Diet Dr. Pepper would obviously make me sound edgier.
But I could also tell him that I love coffee so much that half my paycheck(s) go to Dunkin Donuts and/or Starbucks. He might think it’s funny, or he might think I have a problem. Both are accurate.
But I think he means alcohol? Oh, God. Alcohol. But I don’t really drink. Where do I even start?
I wish I could just say “beer,” but beer tastes like 9th grade, and it tests my gag reflexes. I can’t.
I am clearly not mature enough to drink wine, so no.
Do I just say liquor? Why can’t I just say, “I like liquor.”? I’ll tell you why. Because that will that make me sound like a booze bag who walks around the streets, barefoot, in last night’s makeup drinking Colt 45 from a brown paper bag. That’s why.
Alright, I’ll tell him this . . .
I like rum for when I don’t want to get drunk, and for when I want to feel like I am in a Florida nightclub . . . dancing until I literally fall out of my heels and I have to get a piggyback ride back to the car by a guy who kind of looks like Drake because I can’t take three steps without face planting. So I guess it does get me drunk, even though I SWEAR it doesn’t.
Can I tell him I like tequila? I mean, I don’t really. I like margaritas. Does anyone really like tequila? It’s rough. It makes my throat feel like it’s on fire. Maybe I can just tell him that I like tequila on nights when I don’t want to feel my face. Because every time I drink tequila, I really feel like I don’t have a face. Tequila just makes me sound like a sloppy mess.
Vodka! That’s safe, right? Except when I even THINK about vodka, I immediately have flashbacks about nights I drank vodka, and I cringe. About everything. The things I saw that I wish I could forget while on vodka. (I say ON vodka like vodka is a drug because I feel like it is.) I think about the way I felt the mornings after I was on vodka. This one morning, I woke up after drinking vodka, and I couldn’t even SPEAK until 5PM. I could not even FORM SENTENCES until 12 hours AFTER I was sober. Because vodka. That’s why.
I’ll just tell him whiskey. That’s an honest answer, actually. But it’s a hard sentence to say without sounding like mountain man. Say “I like whiskey” without sounding like a 70-year old grizzly behemoth who spits tobacco. I can’t.
Moonshine? LOL! I am not fooling anyone.
I should tell him I like Hennessy. That will make me sound AWESOME!!! But I really don’t even know what it is. I just like rap music.
So I just disregarded everything I just THOUGHT, and I answered . . .
“I’m not really much of a drinker.”
LOL, BYE.
The Winston-Salem Fire Department, along with other community fire safety advocates, took part in Fire Safety Day from 9AM – 3PM at Goodwill Industries of Northwest North Carolina. The one-day workshop featured guest speakers Pam Elliot and Bonnie Woodruff. Elliott is a Winston-Salem burn survivor, and Raleigh-native Woodruff lost her son, Ben, in a Chapel Hill fraternity house fire.
To conclude the workshop, The WSFD assisted Common Voices, a national fire safety advocacy group, in a fire burn demonstration at the Dixie Fairgrounds. The demonstration featured two mock bedrooms, each furnished courtesy of Common Voices. The bedrooms were equal in every way except one room was equipped with a sprinkler, and the other was not.
Several firefighters from the WSFD were there to manage the controlled demonstration, and Assistant Fire Chief Robert Owens and Deputy Fire Marshal Norman Mitchell were there to oversee the burn.
The demonstration only lasted for a few minutes, but that was long enough to leave an impact.
The mock bedrooms before the demonstration burn.
Members of the WSFD wait for the non-sprinkler bedroom to heat up.
After about three minutes, the non-sprinkler bedroom was engulfed in smoke and flames.
At four minutes, the fire reached its full potential before the WSFD put it out.
The WSFD successfully demonstrated that it takes about four minutes for a regular room to be destroyed by a fire.
The final result of the non-sprinkler room.
The room equipped with a sprinkler did not need the WSFD to assist in putting the fire out until the very end. After three minutes, the sprinkler activated and took care of the fire with minimal damage.
A visual of my relationships.
Unlike most people, I had the opportunity to grow up in a home that wasn’t broken. My parents fell in love long before there was a me, and they stay in love even now. It’s beautiful, really. Sometimes I forget that kind of love is even possible.
I don’t know that I’ve ever actually been in love with anyone. I have loved people, but to be involved in the act of being in love, I can’t say I have. I know that sounds harsh because I have been in a number of serious relationships.
I think that being in love requires you to feel like you would miss something if it weren’t there anymore. I think that if you’re really in love with someone, you should have a natural fear of losing them. I have never been involved with anyone that I feared losing.
“You’re like a plane that leaves behind vapor trails,” My dad said. “Your relationships are really intense until suddenly they’re not, and then all that’s left behind is a faint marking just to prove it ever happened otherwise it would be forgotten entirely.”
Luckily, I don’t think any of the vapor trails read anything I write anyway. But if they do, that’s OK too. Their lives went on perfectly fine without me, and my life went on perfectly fine without them.
The only people I have ever been afraid to lose are the people I shared a home with.
My dad said that I am the same way when it comes to the place I grew up. He said that it’s funny how someone could live in a place for 25 years and feel absolutely nothing for it. It’s as if I were never really there. I don’t miss it, and it doesn’t miss me. My dad understands how I feel though. He feels the same way I do.
Home isn’t a structure or a place. It’s not an address. You can’t find “home” on a GPS. Home is more of a feeling than a location. Niles, Ohio was never my home. My parents and my siblings were my home. Asheville, NC was my home once. Cleveland, Ohio will always be my home. Winston-Salem, NC is my home now, but so is Plantation, FL.
I’m at home when I’m around the people I love. That’s where my home is. I don’t fall in love with people, per se. I fall in love with places and ideas. I care about a lot of people very deeply. But I only love my family. (And my 2 best friends, obviously.)
At the risk of sounding selfish, I’ve just been busy falling in love with myself lately.
And at the risk of sounding like a bitch, I am pretty damn easy to love.
The city of Winston-Salem may be in the process of installing a streetcar route.
City Council members met this week and decided to endorse a plan for a $179 million dollar streetcar route. The route would run from Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center and Martin Luther King Jr. Dr.
Council member Robert Clark was the only council member who opposed the plan, noting that the downtown area may not have the urban population to support a streetcar. Other council members disputed this idea by saying that the streetcar would promote the urban density needed to support it.
Clark also has doubts that the streetcar would be worth the expensive investment.
City Council members mentioned that while the start-up cost of this plan is expensive, federal dollars can be used to help cover it.
While the vote for endorsement was passed, the project is still in its very early stages. The City is required to come up with almost $1.5 million to do testing and studies if they do plan to move forward with the project.
Over the next few months, City administrators will be compiling a list of necessary steps to take for the streetcar project, and it will be presented to the councils.
You know I love words, right?
I do. Sometimes they can be exhausting though. You may not know this, but when I write something, I only write it once. It doesn’t matter if it is an assignment or a blog. When I was in college, my rough draft was my final draft for pretty much any paper I ever wrote. I have always heard that they key to good writing is rewriting. I am not silly enough to believe that I am a great writer, but I do choose my words wisely. If nothing else, I am a careful writer.
I believe, with anything, that if you take your time and do it right the first time, you don’t need to fix it. It takes me all day to write a 1400-word assignment because I sit there and read each sentence over and over again. I stare at every word, and I wonder if that’s the one I want to use. I wonder if my bosses will approve, and I wonder if I am doing justice to those I write about. Then I wonder if there is something stronger that I can say, and if there is, I say it. I try so hard to make my first draft as perfect as it can be.
I don’t like rewriting things, and I hate starting over. I respect carefully written rough drafts because you get to hold something honest and be proud of it before anyone has the opportunity to tell you all of the things you should have done better.
I try really hard the first time because I am terrified to hear all of the things I did wrong. It is scary to think that my time, effort and emotions were all poured into something only to be told that it was not good enough.
I like writing more than speaking because I get to pick my words. When I’m in a conversation, I sometimes just say things to replace silence with noise. When I write things, it’s always for a reason. Every word serves a purpose when I write.
People think that words are enough. I have learned that they’re not. As much as I love words, I know that they can’t exist without actions. I could string together 1400 of the most beautiful words ever written, but if there is no action being described, who cares? Without action behind the words, they are nothing more than letters or sounds.
If there are no actions, I don’t have stories to tell. If people don’t act on things, there is no news. If there is action, but I am not there to experience it, I don’t use my words to describe the story because I know that actions and words go hand-in-hand. If I can’t see it or feel it, I have a hard time picking the right words to describe it.
You probably have already figured out that this blog has nothing to do with me being a writer. It really has nothing to do with my job at all.
It’s about dealing with people. It’s about words and how they are meaningless without action. You can speak or write the prettiest words, but unless you are willing to put action behind them, they are worthless. A word junkie like me may be intrigued with nice words for a while. My history very clearly shows that I will stick around people for far too long because they gave me their words.
There’s a difference between telling someone that they’re beautiful and making them feel beautiful.
There’s also a difference between telling somebody that you love them and making them feel loved.
I love words, but they are exhausting. It’s exhausting trying to pick the right ones to use. It’s exhausting trying to use them to execute a message. It’s exhausting to stare at them all day.
More than anything, it’s exhausting to hear words that have no action behind them.
If you take your time, and you choose your words wisely, and your words are credible, you won’t have to spend a lot of time fixing a rough draft. Just because it’s “rough” doesn’t mean that someone is going to tear it apart or tell you it’s not good enough. Once in a while, you’ll find people who simply appreciate the honesty.
The Forsyth County Sheriff’s Department arrested 22-year old Edwin Douglas Allen, Walkertown resident, for the abuse of his 5-week old son.
On February 17, the 5-week old infant was brought to the WFU Baptist Medical Center, and authorities were called in because of suspected child abuse. The medical evaluations of the infant determined that he had suffered fractures, bleeding in and around the brain and respiratory distress. The infant is still being treated for injuries, but he is now in the emergency custody of the Department of Social Services. Parental contact is restricted, and long-term effects of the injuries are not known.
The FCSO Investigators conducted their investigation by means of interviews and evidence, and based on their findings, the infant’s father was arrested.
Edwin Douglas Allen charged with two felonious counts of Felony Child Abuse Inflicting Serious Bodily Injury. He is incarcerated in the Forsyth County Law Enforcement Detention Center under a $1 million secured bond.
I don’t have a lot of time to write anything on here anymore, and I barely have enough time today.
However.
I love to write. Obviously. Now that I get to write for a living, I don’t ever want to reach the point where I say to myself, “Ugggghhhh. The last thing I want to do right now is WRITE.” I always want to love doing it, so I will write about something fun today in my very short amount of free time.
I went to church today. I happen to believe that church offers a unique experience to every individual sitting in a pew. Some people are just really into listening to verses and scripture. Church, I guess, is like story time to some people. They want to absorb everything that the priest/pastor/whatever is saying and either learn from it or try to apply it to their own lives. My mom is that kind of church goer. She likes to pay attention and really get something from the readings. I admire her for that.
I am not that kind of church goer. I assume that most young people, specifically Catholics, have a hard time focusing during mass. (And I only say specifically Catholics because I am completely ignorant to other masses, so I can’t really speak for them. However, I am completely familiar with Catholic masses, and I know that if there is a baby sitting in front of you, that baby is a lot more entertaining than anything the priest is saying.)
And there was a baby boy sitting two pews in front of me this afternoon, so I made faces at him for most of the mass to get him to laugh.
So then I thought to myself, “Maybe if I am going to church just to make babies laugh, I should just stay home.”
And then it happened.
A revelation. Or something.
I kid you not, my favorite hymn started playing. I know it’s weird that someone would actually have a favorite hymn, but I did spend a lot of time in church as a little girl. The hymn is called “Hosea (Come Back to Me).”
Now, I know it was probably playing because it was Ash Wednesday, and blah, blah, blah. But that’s when I realized something.
I was supposed to be sitting in that pew today, and God likes that I was making that baby laugh because the God that I choose to believe in has a stellar sense of humor.
I think what turns young people away from religion is the people telling them that they have to be a certain way. Young people don’t like to be told what they have to be in order to be accepted.
You are not God. You don’t know what He’s like. Even if your intentions are good, you have no right to tell people what they have to be in order to be “worthy” of His love.
I have come to discover that some of the most ruthless, unforgiving and borderline evil people I have ever met have been the people who sit in church every Sunday and preach about “doing God’s will,” but really, they just spend six days a week being jerks to people who don’t think the same way they do.
The God I believe in probably doesn’t like you guys very much.
Giving Him an hour of your week doesn’t justify your habit of judging or belittling others. And to say that your judgments and your actions are done in God’s name is baffling to me. We are all born with Original Sin, right? So what makes your sins any less offensive than anyone else’s?
Instead of telling young people that they have to be a certain way in order to fit into a religion, why don’t you just encourage them to be good people?
I think God likes good people. Or at least He likes the people who are making an effort to be good. And by good, I don’t mean they have to run out and join all kinds of youth groups. I mean just doing nice things for people because it’s the right thing to do.
Like, if it’s raining, and you see an old woman walking to her car without an umbrella, share yours with her.
If you find money somewhere, and it’s not yours, turn it in.
If you notice that someone looks especially glum, ask them what’s wrong, and listen to them.
I think God likes the simple gestures. I have a hard time believing that He would be OK with His “people” having such hatred for each other. I don’t think He wants you to hate gays or other religions who don’t feel the same way you do. It is not your duty to be the “moral police” for other people.
Here is my philosophy: Try to be a good person. You are not perfect, and God doesn’t expect you to be. But if you just make an attempt to do the right thing at least 70% of the time, you’ll be fine. Yes, you will have to answer for that other 30%, but I think God is a lot more understanding than these super-duper Christians believe He is. I even believe that He may think some of your stories in the 30% might be kind of funny. And finally . . . mind your business. Just mind . . . ya bidness. (Will Smith voice) Don’t worry about what other people are doing. They’ll have to answer too.
Teach young people that their God can be whatever they want Him to be as long as their version encourages them to be a good person.
My God wanted me in church today because He wanted me to make a baby laugh. And He probably just wanted to see me because He was waiting for me to thank Him for all of my blessings lately. So I did. And then He was like, “You’re welcome. Now go get your ashes girl, and then once you’ve left my place, take a selfie so that your parents know you came to mass today.”
And I was like, “Alright, God. But only because you told me to.”
But seriously . . . how holy do I look in this picture?
Sidenote: I then sent a picture of my ashy forehead to my brother, and the text read: “You better GET. THAT. ASHOFFYOURFOREHEAD.” Because My God likes Jay-Z.
And then Jeremy sent my sister and me this:
…and then my sister asked if he really went to church.
I’m still LOLing.
My second assignment as a YES! Weekly reporter for the Winston Salem section brought me to the downtown area for an annual business meeting. I am relatively new to the area, so it is especially exciting for me to finally witness what this city has to offer.
The small Ohio town that I am from also has a “downtown,” technically, but their downtown is nothing more than a few banks scattered across a street with a Dairy Queen in the center.
Winston Salem offers a unique kind of downtown. It’s not especially busy. Public parking does not seem to be an issue. The atmosphere seems relatively safe.
And yes, there is a Starbucks. And it is conveniently located near my second assignment.
Score.
Today I covered the DWSP Annual Meeting, and I was offered a wholesome complimentary breakfast (that I obviously didn’t eat because, for some reason, I felt guilty eating it.)
But I did have a few cups of free coffee.
As I walked into the Grand Pavilion Ballroom at the Embassy Suites hotel, I was met by at least four or five servers greeting me with “Good morning.” I looked around at the lighting and colors of the room as soothing music played in the background, and all I could think was, “Well, isn’t this is charming?”
Charm.
That’s what Winston Salem has to offer, and it became clear to me that businesses were also making that discovery.
I casually made my way to a vacant table after my observant walk around the ballroom, and I was soon joined by six other invitees. They introduced themselves to me, and I to them, and I listened as they chatted with one another. They were very nice gentlemen, and if their suit and ties didn’t express how “business” they were, their immediate exchange of business cards made it very clear.
Today I learned that I like to observe business people. They’re fun. They like to laugh a lot, and they seem to enjoy telling stories. They smile more than most, too.
After everyone but me ate breakfast, the meeting began. Jason Thiel (who Mayor Joines later joked is “the only man he knows that can receive an applause for a tax increase”) led the meeting. He is the president of the Downtown Winston-Salem Partnership. He spoke about the past year’s accomplishments and events, and talked briefly about the Summer Music Series, which I am now interested in experiencing.
He then introduced David Mounts. Mounts is the CEO for Inmar. He explained that Inmar just moved to Winston-Salem so recently that they just unloaded their last moving box on Sunday. He expressed sincere delight and interest in getting involved with the city of Winston-Salem, and he kept repeating the phrase, “We are here.” Mounts then went into playful detail about the company’s plans for the opening on Thursday.
Inmar employees will be keeping the public up-to-date on their “party” Thursday, as they go from place to place downtown until they eventually end up at the Stevens Center.
They are also given a two-hour lunch break that day to “enjoy” Winston-Salem restaurants.
“I told them to love downtown and to treat it as if it was their own neighborhood,” Mounts said.
I am officially a fan of David Mounts.
Mark Dunnagan, Chairman of the Winston-Salem Partnership then took the stage, and he briefly went over upcoming events and encouraged the crowd to applaud everyone in the room who helped make 2013 such a successful year for the city.
I would just like to quickly point out that I clapped for everything, even when I wasn’t sure why I was clapping.
Moving on.
I was excited when I looked at the program and noticed the keynote speaker of the day. In case you are unaware, I am kind of a sports fan, so when I saw that Christopher Harrison would be speaking at the meeting, I naturally perked up a little more than usual.
Harrison was a former offensive tackle for the Lions, Ravens and Vikings. Once his football career was over, he ventured into real estate. He was there to speak about his new development, Plant 64.
Plant 64 is a former tobacco manufacturing plant that Harrison is converting into 243 apartments, 361 parking spaces and 9,700 square feet of retail.
As I listened to Harrison speak, I couldn’t help but notice how smooth his voice was. He was so easy to listen to that he could have been up there reading a phone book, and I would have been entertained.
Harrison explained the plans for the building, and he told the crowd that it’s important for everyone to “seize the momentum” when it comes to business in Winston-Salem.
Then he said the word “charm,” and I was obviously excited because I felt as though Christopher Harrison and I were mentally in sync.
He ended his speech with, “We will do you proud.”
Shortly after Harrison left the stage, Mayor Joines took over the room. I have never seen the mayor until today, and I must say, he seems to be a real, southern gentleman. He was there to present the Downtown Excellence Awards to businesses in downtown Winston-Salem for their hard work and achievements over the past year.
I got to see short clips of the businesses and what they have to offer the city, so now I have new places to visit.
Going in to today’s assignment, I was nervous. I thought to myself, “Business? Am I even going to know what they’re talking about?”
By the end of the meeting, I felt something for the city that I haven’t felt for a city before now.
I felt hopeful.
I felt like I was finally in a place that felt like home. The DWSP Meeting reinforced that trying new things and putting yourself out there is the first step to being successful. All of the successful businesses and business people that were rewarded today had to take a first step at some point.
It’s time to take a first step. Get out there. See things. Think differently. Be unique.
Find ways to make it work.
And come to Winston-Salem while you’re at it.
I hear we’re pretty darn charming.
Years ago, I was going to Starbucks with an old boyfriend of mine. Because it was years ago, and my memories are clearly starting to deteriorate, I can’t offer full details of this story. I can tell you that he was especially cranky on the car ride there, and we were on the verge of an argument. I remember that he did not want to go to Starbucks that night, and I forced him anyway. Because that’s what girlfriends do.
We pull up to order, and the barista starts talking like Darth Vader.
“*heavy breathing* Welcome to Starbucks *heavy breathing* I am your barista, Darth Vader. *heavy breathing* What can I get for you tonight? *heavy breathing*”
Old boyfriend slowly turned his head to look at me. I had never seen anyone LESS amused by anything in my life.
Naturally I started laughing hysterically, both at Darth Vader and old boyfriend’s reaction.
Between laughs, I managed to order my venti non-fat, no whip, caramel macchiato and his box of chocolate milk.
Yes. He always got a box of chocolate milk.
So we pulled up to the window, and Darth Vader looked at old boyfriend and said, “GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD EVENING, YOUNG SIR,” in a British accent.
I started laughing even harder, and boy is even less amused than he was two minutes ago.
Boy handed him the money, and then we waited. And waited. And waited.
Five minutes later, they handed me a drink. I tasted it.
“This has fat in it. I ordered non-fat.” (Because I AM THAT GIRL.) Ugh, I know, right?
“Just drink it, Brittany.”
“No. I paid $5 for this. It needs to be right.”
Boy told Darth Vader the problem. Darth Vader made another drink, and he told us to keep the fat drink.
Boy decided he was going to make a production over how excited he was to drink the fat drink.
“MMMMMMM. YUMMY. MMMMMMMM. THIS DRINK IS SOOOOO GOOOOOD. YUM YUM YUM.”
“Stop it,” I said.
“NOOOOOOOO. This is just SOOOOO good. MMMMMMMM.”
“Gary . . . enough.”
I knew that this boy hated that drink, and for some reason, that really pissed me off.
“But this FAT tastes so good. MMMMMMMMM. I LOVE IT.”
I looked at him drinking the fat drink. I started breathing heavy out of my nose, I tilted my head, and my jaw clenched.
About ten seconds later, the fat drink went flying out the passenger’s side window, and old boyfriend and I were screaming at each other.
Screaming.
To this day, I can’t figure out why I got so mad about a drink.
Why would I think it’s OK to snatch a hot beverage out of someone’s hand and throw it out the window?
Why?
Because women are irrational. That’s why.
I’m not the same woman I was back then. Now that I am a mature 25-year old, I would never toss a perfectly fat, caramel macchiato out of a window for no reason. I haven’t screamed at anyone for a very long time, either.
You know, occasionally I use my blog to help the men out. Today is one of those days.
I know you’re probably familiar with gangster movies, right? I watch a lot of them, and I have noticed that women are really just cute gangsters.
Forget the drugs and the money. I’m talking about women’s mannerisms. You may not realize it, but your girl probably does the same thing that the villain (or maybe even a pissed off good guy) in gangster movies does right before the epic confrontation.
Let me explain.
1) The “Tony Montana.”
Have you ever walked into your place and saw your girl doing this?
She’s sitting alone with a blank stare on her face, just waiting for you to get home. It’s because she knows. It doesn’t matter what she knows, just know that she knows. And now you know that the relaxing night you had planned is not going to happen.
2) Jaw Clench/Lip Shrink
Once you see the temples on the side of her head go from concave to convex, you’re in trouble. She is literally trying to trap all of the mean words she wants to say to you inside her mouth.
3) Crazy Eyes.
Look at De Niro in that picture. If eyes could speak, this look would tell you, “I dare you to say another word. I DARE YOU, FOOL.” It starts out with this look, but then once you say something to dig yourself deeper, she hits you with the eyebrow.
Like this:
And then you say something stupid again, and it turns to this:
This is the “what the hell did you just say to me?” look. And you do not want this look.
4) The Head Tilt.
Basically, what is happening here, is your girl is tilting her head to remove every nice thought she’s ever had about you. She is letting all the good memories leave her brain, through her ear, so that she doesn’t feel bad when she verbally tears you to pieces in about a minute.
There are a few different head tilts you need to be aware of.
This is the “I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider that statement” tilt:
. . . and once you decide NOT to reconsider, her head tilts just a little further down, and you get the “Oh, now it’s on” tilt:
And once it’s on, it is ON.
5) Hand Gestures
Women love using hand gestures in arguments. We feel like our hands have magic powers; like they can say things that our mouths can’t.
We wave them.
We clap them.
And then we’ll hit you with one of these so that you know, without a DOUBT, that you are in the doghouse:
6) The Finale.
This is when it all hits the fan.
She is standing there like:
And you are standing there like:
7) The Exit.
She is obviously Frank Lucas in this scenario, and you’re the white guy with the slicked back hair. Look at her. She’s had it with you. She gives you that one, last look, and leaves the room. You decide that you’re going to go for a drive to clear your head.
This is you thinking, “My God. This woman is a nightmare.”
But you come home anyway, and you get comfortable on that couch. Just as your about to fall asleep, you hear footsteps. She’s coming for you. You anticipate the screaming to continue, but suddenly she sits down next to you, and gives you one of these:
This isn’t a real hug, boys. This is a temporary peace offering. This is her warning you that next time, you may not be so lucky.
But this time, she’s going to let you come back to bed.
And then she’s going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.
Because she’s gangster like that.
brittanymollis 