Like its 1999

Just redid my voicemail… I LOVE THE 90S!

“AYE YO, wassup you reach Rach , just leave yo 411 after that tone and i’ll be sure to hit u back with the quickness. shout out to my boo, my girl chelle dawg, and the 415. aight then down”


I am soooo over this Friday.  lol.  I’m ready to not be at work and enjoy this beautiful SF day.   To occupy ourselves, Hayati and I have been entertaining ourselves with the following conversation.

1.  urgh i have the biggest frontal wedgie right now ugh
1.  is there a word for that?
2.  yeah, its called CAMEL HOOF.
2. when its not even just the toe
2.  its the whole FUCKING HOOF.
2.  haaahahahahaha.
1.  i think i wore my underwear backwards
2.  is that why u have camel hoof?
1.  POSSIBLE.  i’m gonna check next time i go to the bathroom
1.  and ok, i just looked inside my tights, my underwear isn’t backwards, maybe i just need to buy bigger panties.

Just a day in the life of the 2 girls who will try and take over the world.   Dontcha love us?

P.s.  Just in case u need a visual.

She’s not Raaachem.

I had the opportunity to meet one of my new favorite people, Kerin Rose while in NYC last week and she asked me a question that I always seem to get. 

Inquiring minds want to know, how did I get to be called Raaachem?

Before I answer, I’d like to refer you to a clip of my favorite show of all time. 

Season 2
The One With the List

No, my last name doesn’t start with an M.  No, it’s pronounced just like Rachel, just with an M at the end.  

“She’s not Rachem?  What the hell’s a Rachem?” 

In high school, while watching reruns of this episode with my friends, the name just kind of STUCK.   People I’ve known from way back when still call me Rachem to this day and it’s kind of still my email address.   When I started to actually take blogging seriously and created my own blog, was taken.   Since I didn’t want to change it too much, I just added a few extra “a”s and voila. 

Hope I’ve cleared that up for those of you who were wondering.  Apparently, the allusion wasn’t as apparent as I thought it was.  =)    Back soon with a recap of NY!

Blood, Sweat, and Bikram.

Since I’ve been going to Bikram everyday, I’ve gotten really up close and personal with the people who choose to sit in my personal space…that really hairy guy in front of me who looks like he’s wearing a sweater, for instance.  Or how about the big burly white guy to my right who smells like cornflakes, or the nice looking woman to my left who smells like urine when she bends down. (GROSSSSS)  I’ve had more asses in my face than Tupac, and strange people’s sweat no longer bother me.  Cheesy feet in my face?  Just try me! 

But the one thing I cannot get used to is hair on women.   As a woman myself, I go to great lengths to get rid of unecessary hair.   Shaving, tweezing, threading, waxing — u name it, I do it.  And for women with a low threshold for pain, it doesn’t take that long to take a razor to your legs, or your armpits, or even your vagina for that matter.

I cannot FATHOM why attractive women think its ok to have legs that look like cat scratching posts, or pit hair long enough to braid.   BUT to each her own and if that shit tickles ur pickle then so be it.  But in a room full of people thisclose to you, here are my tips to at least TRY and be somewhat considerate. 

1.   Wear pants..and sleeves.  If you’re French, lazy, or just plain gross and have hair where a woman shouldn’t have hair, please wear pants.   When class is packed and your leg grazes mine, I don’t want it to feel like a man’s.   And armpit hair should be contained to inside a shirt, NOT lookin’ like Rip Van Winkle’s beard peekin out ur elbows.   PLEASE.  

2.  Keep your feet clean.   Trim your toenails, clean in between ur toes, and take care of all that dead skin.   How your shoes even go ON your feet amaze me.   And if you have an issue with having smelly feet, wash them!   Wear deodorizers!  SOMETHING!!!   Last week I couldn’t stop smelling cheese and I spent 10 minutes tryin to figure out where it was coming from.   I took a timeout to smell myself — nope, not my feet, my pek pek, or my armpits.   Phew.   Leaned over to my right.. *sniff*  Nope, not her.   Leaned over to my left…. *sniff* Nope, he smelled like cereal.    I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me until we finally finished with the standing series and started on the floor.   The guy in front of me (who was wearin’ straight PANTIES) had his feet about 6 inches from my face and the Cheddar was overwhelming to say the least.   I thought my nose hairs were burning.   THAT SHIT IS NOT THE BIZNESS.  Fix that! 

3.  Wear tighter shorts OR better panties.   I used to sit in the back, because I was new and thought only sucky people sat in the back.  (lol)   One day this nice unassuming lady came to sit in front of me….   No problem.    We start with the floor series and during Dhanurasana (Bow pose) her shorts kind of creeped up and showed me all her goodies…. Whick kind of resembled hairy roast beef.   Needless to say,  I no longer sit in the back of the room and i will NEVER look at roast beef the same again.   

4.  Use deodorant.   Kind of ridiculous cuz its prolly not gonna work anyway, you still stink and are drenched in your own sweat.   But when the room starts smelling like onions, do YOU really wanna be the reason why?  

5.  Or even better — HO BATH.  During Dandayamana Bibhaktapada Paschimottanasana (or Standing Seperate Leg Stretch) you’re lucky to get someone who doesn’t stink, or is courteous enough about their sweat to lay their towel over yours so as not to contaminate your space (thanks, btw.)   The other 99.5% of the time, the person’s ass who’s in your face during the swan dive down prolly hasn’t been wiped or washed since that morning.   (They need to make the tabo a law.)  Be courteous and at least TRY and ho bath before bikram?   I’ll even give you a box of baby wipes to start — cuz if I get another pee-smelling ass in my face, I’m gonna gag out loud.  

Alright yo, catch me at the studio.  I’m the girl with the coconut water and the Hellz towel.  Come say hi =)

beer goggles.

Here’s the scenario:

Out with my friends and one of my guy friends finds some girl to try and holla at.   She accepts his drinks, flirts with him a little bit, and as the night winds down she finds herself dissing her friends to hang with us afterwards.   My girls and I stare her down, make her uncomfortable and just tell our homie to STOP.  The homie then calls us *dun dun dun*  a COCK BLOCK.

The very next morning, as he’s gettin’ on our case for cockblockin, I pull out my trusty lil Canon and bring up a pic that I snapped of her.  Yes, its of her whole face, her outfit, and her friends.  Ain’t no shame in my game.    All of a sudden, the girl who WAS lookin’ like Kim Karsashian last night, looks like Sasquach in her natural habitat in the light of day… and soberness.   And just like that, he breathes a sigh of relief and says, “GOOD LOOKIN’ OUT.”

Fellas, your girls aren’t just haters.  (Ok, some of us are)  But most of the time, we really do have your best interest in mind.   If we’re friends, it probably means we care a good deal about you and refuse to let you take home a mediocre catch.  Just like you were one of us, we will protect and serve till the wheels fall off.   Cockblocking is not a game, (altho it IS kinda funny sometimes) and if you need a lay then you NEED A LAY.  If you really wanna  bang Whoppi Goldberg, then to each his own…. who are we to stop you?    But please try n be a little more understanding when we’re just lookin’ out for your best interest, your sanity, and your ego. 

Still don’t believe me?   Look through my camera again…. Now aren’t you glad you didn’t wake up to that this morning?

givin’ up.

death by bikram last night was quite eventful.   as i was walking in the studio, i noticed this behemoth of a woman, in my little sister’s shorts, a bush under her arms and more rolls than the local bakery.  just as i was about to pull my phone out and snap a pic, the bitch did a standing split.


i can barely touch my fucking toes and this hippo is as flexible as a gymnast. needless to say, i put my phone away and took my moded ass to the back to change.

for lent, i have vowed to give up TALKING SHIT (along with rice and MAKEUP!).  lets see  if i can keep  this blog from becoming very very boring.  lol.

what did u give up?

have you ever..

ever ask someone “how are you?” expecting nothing other than a quick “fine, and you?” but instead get a lifetime sob story to which ur STUCK listening to for the next 10 minutes as u try not to die inside?

yeah, me neither.