Don't you think...

Taylor Swift should cut Kanye a check? I'm just sayin'.

She's Gone

My grandma passed away this morning. I can wrap my brain around it, but not my heart.

It's very hard to reconcile with the fact that she's not here anymore. I know I've had time to come to terms with the fact that she, that NO ONE lives forever, but that was just in a hypothetical context. This is real...too real. Granted, since her stroke she wasn't the Grandma I always knew, but a piece of her was better than none of her.

She shaped so much of what I know, what I rebel against, what I fight for...who I am. My heart is a little broken today.

From Boy to Man

The boy and his pops

I can't believe my son is 14 years old. It seems like just yesterday he was watching Barney videos and drinking from a sippy cup. Looking at him now...knowing the person he is...it just confirms what I've known for 14 years. God made me the caregiver of someone very special. Someone who showed me what a gift life is. For that I will always be grateful.

Happy birthday to a singular young man. I am honored to know you.

I love you, Bubba!

Mom~

SHUT...THE HELL...UP

If you are 30lbs overweight, should you really be criticizing the person who is 40lbs overweight?

Jesus said: First remove the beam from your own eye before you remove the splinter from your neighbors'.

Janine says: Shut your piehole, you hypocrite.

Damn it, Kanye!

If you didn't see Kanye's latest "stage invasion" I'm sure you've heard about it by now. I'm over trying to figure out why the man does the things he does. He's quickly becoming a parody of himself with his over-inflated ego and strange outbursts. I mean...there's eccentric and then there's pure, unadulterated arrogance and I think Kanye suffers from the latter. He couldn't just stand backstage and say "Beyonce was robbed"? He just HAD to go out onstage and steal Taylor Swift's shine 'cause why???

I think Kanye West needs to do two things:

1. Go to a psychiatrist and asked to be put on a cocktail of ritalin and prozac.

2. Take a really, really, really, really, REALLY long vacation.

Best way to end the summer.

Yesterday the boy and I went to my BFF Tira's house for a Labor Day celebration. All the BFF's were there w/husbands in tow as well as Tira and her husband's family. It was such a great time. Great company, great food, lots of laughs, jello shots and the best berry and pineapple martinis I've ever tasted. (I'm over 21 so I am allowed to partake) The kids were relegated to either the outdoors, or the "media room" which was just a room w/a television and a Playstation 3 (what more could a kid want, right?). I wish I had pics to post, but I forgot my camera.

I love hanging out with my best good girlfriends...we've all been close for about 10 years now and I just adore them. They are my counselors, my sisters and my friends. We've all got our own lives, but we make time for each other...either via a weekly IM chat, email, or facebook. And when we get together we have good laughs and great conversation. Friendships should be edifying, supportive and enriching, and we definitely let each other be exactly who we are and we're evolved enough to accept and love each other anyway. I'm definitely blessed to have these amazing women in my life.

I Miss the Boy :-(

My offspring has been away visiting his dad and his grandparents for about a month now. It's funny...I was so excited for the alone time but now I'm thinking it's enough now. And I'm a little unnerved by that. I never wanted to be the type of mom who has and has no desire for an identity outside of the role of mom. Don't get me wrong, my son is the most important person in my life, but "happy mom, happy kids". How can you be a happily functioning mother if you can't find pleasure in doing things that don't involve your children. There may be people out there that will think I'm a less than stellar parent(kiss my arse, by the way) but I just don't think that's the way to raise a little person to be a happy, fully functioning adult. THEY have to see YOU independent, happy, content, peaceful, satisfied in order to identify what those states of being look like. Right?

Having said all that, I do miss my kid. I miss hanging out with him at Border's, going to our favorite barbeque joint for lunch, and asking him about girls in order to make him squirm. The apartment has a different energy when he's not here. It's darker and has a little less life.

Saturday can't get here fast enough. Maybe I'll take him to Dave's for lunch and we can shoot the breeze and I can ask him about the cute girls he met in the ATL.

Is it just me??

Am I the only person who doesn't get this guys appeal? I mean...he's scrawny, his hair looks greasy and he looks like he only bathes on demand. That's going the right way for a bladder infection, ladies...if you get my meaning.

I'm sure he's a lovely and charming person, but really, what's all the fuss?

You sent a picture of your WHAT to WHERE, now??

Making one of my daily trips to "The Segment" and I see that the new development is that Neb, Andy and Kenza now have an "Adult Advisory" warning attached. I'm thinking, "okay...sometimes the language gets a little salty, but is it really that bad??". I click the button that allows me to continue on to the blog and Nebby has posted a blog explaining the reason for the warning. The Segment's gonna get a little mo' racy yaaaaaaaaaaaaall!! I'm grown, so it's no skin off of my back. I continue reading and Neb posts a little "love" letter to all the degenerates who send her pictures of their junk via email. Saywhatnow?? Who the hell does that?? I really want to know the thought process of a person who not only takes a picture of their penis, but has the balls (pun intended) to upload it to their computer and email it to someone they probably only know through their blog. Is it a planned activity or do they just wake up one morning and go "you know what? I'm gonna email a pic of my cock to Nebby today". I mean...Nebby's a beautiful girl, but if that's your approach...just kill yourself, dude. It's funny and not funny at the same time. It definitely speaks to a huge lack of respect for themselves, their mommas, their grandmomma, aunties, cousins, not to mention the person who is innocently reading their email only to stumble across a picture of someone's lil penis. And I'm not naive enough to think that there aren't women who enjoy receiving dick pics (oooh...let's call them that from now on, 'kay?) and probably reciprocate with some obscene pics of their own, but that don't make it right. It's not sexy, or cute, or appealing in any way. In fact, it's damn tired.

So, if you're reading this blog and you are a dick pic-er, put your pud back in your pants and find a hobby that doesn't involve your pee pee or the internet. I suggest whittling. You can start with that hunk of "wood" below your navel. Nasty.

"Only very stupid people do not change"

Every difficult situation is an opportunity to learn who you choose to be, but equally as important, it shows you who you should choose NOT to be. We so clearly see the flaws of others while completely ignoring our own. That is not the path to self-awareness. Each day offers an opportunity to peer into the life mirror held before our eyes and see ourselves, not for who we think we are, but for who we REALLY are. Be prepared to not like a lot of what you see. Prepare yourself to be ashamed of how small minded and petty you can be. Prepare yourself to be confronted by your absolute human-ness. It’s not always pretty or enlightened, but thank God it need not stay the same. The most beautiful thing about humanity is its adaptability and capacity to change. Every day we wake up with breath in our lungs is an opportunity to grow and to change and to become who we were divinely crafted to be. Change is not something to fear, it is something to embrace!


Be Blessed

J~

One more observation before bed...

Anchorman is one of the most juvenile, gag inducing, laugh out loud funny movies ever made. If you don't agree....I will fight you.


G'night.

Just an Observation...

Was the TV Guide channel owned by Michael Jackson? 'Cause hand to stan they've been running the same 5 shows on MJ since he passed. No, there will never be an entertainer that will come anywhere near his level of greatness...but it's enough already. The man has been dead for well over a month. Y'all are the only ones still running 24 hour coverage. Seriously, enough! Even his ignorant behind daddy shut his pie hole and sat it on down. (and by the way, Papa Joe...no one appreciates that more than me. If had to see you on my tv one more time I was going to open a vein. You do have pretty teeth, though.)

And so, in closing I'd just like to say to the execs at the TV Guide Network...please, for pete's sake, return to your regular broadcasting schedule.

The misuse and degradation of the term "Strong Black Woman"

I am offically calling a moratorium on the phrase "strong black woman" until we (and by we I mean the global 'we') stop using it interchangeably with the word 'bitch'. And I guess for that to happen, we've got to re-think our definition of what a strong black woman is. Time was, a strong black woman was a black woman who was out in the community, fighting for change, all while praising the Lord, raising her children and loving her man. But times have changed. Nowadays, the term is synonymous with 'bitch' and, I am ashamed to admit, more than rightly so. There are women who have affixed themselves with the term "strong black woman" who are anything but. A strong woman isn't combative, loud, emasculating, and bitter. No...that describes a sad woman. A woman who has long ago allowed herself to believe that if she let her guard down long enough for anyone to see the woman inside, everyone would hurt and betray her. A strong woman let's down her guard and allows herself to give and receive love freely...even if she's been hurt before. A sad woman tricks herself into thinking that she doesn't need a man for anything. This is a lie. Our very nature is to need one another...just look at the story of creation in the Bible. the first woman was made when God plucked a rib from the first man. We are innately a part of one another. We DO need each other. We NEED each other to raise our children. Can it be done as a single parent? Sure, but it is not ideal...we were not built for solitude.

I encourage all of us to rethink how we view ourselves. To really look at who we are. Be prepared to be appalled by some of what you see. But also be prepared to change that which appalls you. Let's decide right now that we are going to wash the muck off of the term "strong black woman" and bring it...and ourselves...back to our former glory.

Be blessed.

J~


Suggested reading: Sisters of the Yam by bell hooks

"RAWR RAWR like a dungeon dragon"

I recently heard the remix of Drake's "Best I Ever Had" w/Busta Rhymes. It's an okay song with or without Bussa Bus, but it made me miss Busta Rhymes circa Leaders of the New School. The collabo between Leaders and Tribe was insane. Here's the vid:




Can you tell I've been listening to a lot of old school hip hop?

BackinthadaywhenIwasyoungI'mnotakidanymorebutsomedaysIsitandwishIwasakidagain...

I was listening to the new Yahoo Music (HATE!) and they played this:




And I was transported to nineteen-ninety(mind ya bidness!) when I was young, dumb, and full of...naive notions about life and love and what I would be when I grew up. Walking down the street in the summertime in those shorts that hugged my booty maybe a little too tightly, trying to pretend not to notice those cute boys sitting on that porch in front of that house that always had the cute boys in front of it.

Damn...I feel like walking to the corner store and buyin' a purple jug and a bag of bontons...

Note to the Media...

If you say you're not in 'good conscience' going to report any more stories about "she-must-not-be-named" then maybe you shouldn't then run a report the very next day about how you are not going to in 'good conscience' report any more stories about "she-who-must-not-be-named". That way, you will be keeping your word and that whelping wackadoo will stop getting all this undeserved press. You know when you should report a story on you-know-who? When you are reporting that her children were rescued from her and are now in the care of someone who can actually parent them. Report that. Until then...sheeeuuuut up.

My weekly attempt to get all up in his business...

Me: So. Got a girlfriend yet?
Him: Moooom!
Me: What? I'm just asking. So...do you?
Him: No.
Me: Why?
Him: I just don't.
Me: No girls at school you like?
Him: Nah
Me: Do you like girls?
Him: Yes.
Me: Then, what's the problem?
Him: The girls at my school are...uh...well, they can be "B's".
Me: Bitches?
Him: Yes
Me: Wow. I'm sure not all the girls are, uh, 'witches'.
Him: No...not all. Some are annoying.
Me: What makes them annoying.
Him: They act real silly and flirty.
Me: Wow. Well...that means they like you.
Him: I know...it's annoying.
Me: Wow.
Him: You're saying wow a lot.
Me: Am I? So, there aren't any girls at your school you think are cute??
Him: I think a lot of them are cute...but they're either witches or they're annoying.
Me: Well, you know...at this age girls are probably starting to get their periods. That can make them moody and...witchy.
Him: Were you on yours last week?
Me: Yeah...why?
Him: Just asking...

Scar Tissue

I have a 3 inch scar across the bottom of my neck as the result of thyroid surgery about 6 years ago. I’m barely aware of it now, but I remember being so self-conscious about it right after the surgery. I was afraid that if I wore something that exposed it, that the scar would be all people would see. And for the most part, it was. Not because it was this huge, angry scar, but because I was so hyper-aware of it that I always had my hand over it or was fumbling to try to conceal it. The more I tried to make it less noticeable, the more noticeable it became. Every ten steps, someone was asking ‘what happened to you?’ or, ‘where’d you get that scar’…and I hated it. Not because I was ashamed of the surgery, (it was just thyroid surgery), but it made me different in the most obvious and unwelcome way. For someone who was already painfully uncomfortable in her own skin, that three inch scar was just more unwanted attention waiting to happen.

When I was 9, I began to develop. And when I say, ‘develop’ I mean ‘DD-evelop’. By the time I was in 6th grade, I was in a DD cup. I don’t remember very many happy days from age 11-14 mainly because of how other people reacted to me. Grown men and boys would follow me and say disgusting things to me. It had gotten so bad that I was afraid to walk anywhere by myself. Grown women and girls were mean and made me feel ashamed of something I had no control over. I was hurt by men I loved and trusted, and somehow it felt like it my fault. No one ever told me it wasn’t…not ‘til years later, anyway. As a result, I tried my best to disappear…to just blend into the scenery so nobody noticed me, and no one could hurt me. But ultimately, when you fight your nature, the more you try to disappear, the more you’re seen.

Would I prefer not to have a 3 inch scar on my neck? Yes. Would I have preferred to not have been made to feel awkward and ashamed of the body God gave me? Sure. But the truth of the matter is, the scar tissue…both seen and unseen from those times in my life and many more are a necessary part of the sum total of who I am. For better or worse. Every experience is like a shot of fire on the skin…on the psyche…meant to forge us into something new and stronger. Maybe even something better. I thank God for the fire and for the pain because even though I may not be what I want to be…I’m no longer what I was.

Solitary Confinement

Sometimes I wonder if my loneliness is self-imposed. I smile, joke and laugh...but my guard is never really down. I've been hurt by people whose job it was to love and protect me, but is that really any justification for locking myself away from happiness? Is it because I know that sometimes what looks like joy can cut like a dagger?

Maybe I should welcome the pain the cuts will bring. At least then, I'll know I'm still alive.

God...grant me the serenity not to pop this byatch!!

I have a co-worker that I used to be fairly cool with, but lately she's been begging me to break my foot off in her ass. Case in point, I recently converted to a meatless diet. I have been given a fair amount of good natured shit about it by my friends, but THIS trick has taken the jokes too damn far. This past Friday she interrogated me for 10 minutes about my decision. Here are some excerpts:

Bitch: Can't you eat fish? Fish isn't meat.
Me: I won't eat anything with a brain
Bitch: But you're wearing leather shoes. That cow had a brain.
Me: I'm not wearing leather shoes.
Bitch: Let me see.
Me: (takes off shoe and contemplates chucking it at bitch's head, but thinks better of it. Hands bitch shoe instead)
Bitch: (looks at imprint on shoe that says 'man made material') Oh. Well what about eggs.
Me: No animal has to die to obtain eggs.
Bitch: What about the little baby chick, huh? It doesn't get the chance to live...
Me: (that's the last statement I hear before I start tuning her out)

I understand human curiosity. I also understand the need to bust jokes about shit we don't understand. But this chick was acting like my decision not to eat meat was affecting her adversely. YOU can still eat meat, Jip! Dang!

That same day, she gave me a bag of valentine cookies to give to my son. He loved them. I walked up to her today and told her so. She said "did you tell him I'm the only reason he got his own bag?". Huh? Sooooo...instead of being gracious and saying thank you, you choose to be an asshat? That's how you want this to play out?? Well, fuck you. You and your damn cookies can kiss my shiny brown ass.

Rant over.

For Anyone Who Feels Trapped in a Bad Situation...

Listen to the song...read the lyrics...soak in the message.

rain is gone i feel the wind
brightest stars shinin in
a new life for love has come through
wish i had the words to describe
ridged feelings im so alive
let me tell you what i gained since leaving u
feels just like heaven
and a sunny day
definitely heaven
and a sunny day
feels just like heaven
and a sunny day
basically heaven
and a sunny day
no more breathing down my back
not too sure how to act
or even waitin for you to say i love you(i love you)
ill kiss myself and say a prayer
and feel the point of lovin when you were here
lovin me means more to me then losin' you
feels just like heaven
and a sunny day
definitely heaven
and a sunny day
feels just like heaven
and a sunny day
basically heaven
and a sunny day
Oh I'm in Heaven

Mama Never Said There'd Be Days Like This...(and frankly, I'm a little pissed off about that)

My sweet, fluffy baby at 6 mos.


My 13 year old...still sweet...but only when he wants a new PS3 game.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I'd just had the c-section that made me someone's mommy. The nurses had just finished doing the APGAR test and all the whatnot that happens when a new person first makes their way into the world. Finally, freshly diapered and swaddled, they handed me my screaming, bright red, cone-headed new son. My mom and I both looked at him in wonder. I was amazed...all I could do was stare at him, I mean, he'd just been inside my tummy not 45 minutes ago. I was so in love...I couldn't imagine not loving this perfect little creature.

Cut to 13 years later. That perfect little creature has been replaced by a moody, laconic, slightly smelly, hairy, moody, always hungry, moody, lazy, video game engrossed, moody teenager. (Did I mention he was moody?). When did this happen? Where did my sweet little boy go? And why didn't anyone tell me that teenage boys experience mood swings almost as violent and unforgiving as a teenage girls? Is this some sort of cosmic joke?? Well, I'm not laughing! You mean to tell me that not only am I living with an eating machine who hates doing chores, I have to put up with a 'tude, too? I mean...I can't even talk to the boy at times. Everything is "Mom, I know" or "what??", or "I am" and I'd hate to have to embarrass little dude, but I will embarrass little dude if I have to deal with that 'tude and that funky tone of his. My little brother says that it's just a phase and that he'll grow out of it, and I sincerly hope that's true, because I'd really like for him to live long enough to graduate high school. Right now...it's not looking good for him, I'll be honest.

Y'all pray for the boy...

Off the Stuff...(for good this time)

I made the decision to become vegetarian about 3 weeks ago. I decided to transition by remaining vegetarian at home and at work (the places I could most easily control what I eat) and if I went out to a party or a casual get together at a friends house with limited selections, I'd give myself the leeway of small quantities of meat. Well...cut to girls night at my best good girlfriends house on Saturday and a horrible gastrointestinal reaction on Sunday which I assume was caused by eating something I haven't had in a while...and I'm off meat for good. I talked to my son about it and he said, "Mom, I don't know if I can give up meat all the way, but I'll eat more vegetables and fruit". I don't think I can ask for more than that. I mean, he's 13 and decisions like whether or not to be vegetarian are ones he's capable of making for himself. I will say, however, that because he eats what I cook (mostly) he hasn't had meat in about 2 weeks and he's raved more about the vegetarian dishes I've cooked than anything I've made with meat.

I've attempted to live a vegetarian lifestyle once before. It was completely by accident. I had surgery on my thyroid and for about 2 months afterwards, I lost my taste for meat. This time is a more conscious decision. I think factory farming is inhumane and harmful for the planet, so this is me trying to do my part to make the Earth a more liveable place.

Happy to be Nappy

Every time I hear this song it makes me appreciate my decision to go natural even more. Peep the lyrics:

We live from the head down and not the feet up
And I'm adorned with the crown that's making this up
And I'm fine under cloud 9

Yes I wear the lamb's wool, the feet of burned brass
And the wool defies gravity like the nature of a gas
And I'm fine under cloud 9

Twist my cloud and it rain
And when it rains it pours
And the energy will absorb
Power for the metaphysical one

Happy to be nappy, I'm black and I'm proud
That I have been chosen to wear the conscious cloud
And I'm fine under cloud 9

I be a chameleon and wear it bone straight
But it's so much stronger when it's in its natural state
And I'm fine under cloud 9

Twist my cloud and let it rain
And when it rains it pours
And the energy will absorb
Power for the metaphysical one

I've noticed that people are embracing the natural hair more and more. Yes, I still get the ignorant comment like "What? You tryin' to be jamaican? (the hell????) but more often than not, I get random people who come up to me saying "Sista, I love your locs". I'm no longer going to waste energy on those who don't 'get it'. I'm no longer going to tell another "this is what this ignorant so and so said about my hair", because what they say isn't going to change my hair or how I feel about it. I'll spend my energy on those who are open with their minds and spirits. Anyone bringing negativity about my hair or anything else can kick rocks.

"Words"

No writing today. Thought I'd post this vid because I think the song is so beautiful. If you don't know who Anthony David is, Google him.

He's coming to lil' 'ol Wilmington, DE

President-elect Barack Obama will be making a stop in Wilmington, DE during his train ride to Washington. He and Joe Biden will be speechifying before they and their 'better halves' hop the train and head for Baltimore. Officials are expecting no less than 30,000 people to attend. Honestly, I don't think 30,000 people live in Wilmington, period.

I'd like to take my son to this, I know this is something he'd really want to witness, but I don't do so well in crowds. I'll try to suck it up for the boy's sake. But, if you hear reports about a crazed black woman throwing 'bows on folk 'cause they're standing too close...yeah, that'll be me.

SMDH

::sigh:: I know what some people might say..."step to a man like a man, take your man sized beat down like a man". That big man went hard for a woman half his size. If that dude hadn't have intercepted Gucci, the girl would have been out cold.

My brother always tells my son that "a real man doesn't raise a hand to a woman. If she starts wilin' out like she's gonna swing, you grab her by the shoulders and shake her till she calms down". The chick in the video was clearly a jump off who got out of pocket, trying to make a point in front of his main girl, but why risk going back to the pen over a bird. You should have just given her a good shake, brah.

I think Gucci likes jail.

On the precipice of change

We are exactly 6 days away from the inauguration of this nation's first african american president. An historic time, to be sure, but there are a few things that the african american community must be mindful of.

First, he's not just our president. He will have governance over the whole country. The. WHOLE. Country. That means that not all his decisions will be made from an afrocentric stance. In fact, I'd be surprised if ANY of them were. Listen to me, black people...we CANNOT lose our shit over this fact. This man will be President of the United States, not President of the United States, but only the black people. Understand that while he won't be prefacing any of his edicts with "this one's for you, african american community!", what we are facing is a commander in chief who is not indifferent to the plight of black people. That's huge, because for more years than a lot of us have been alive, the government has, at best, been indifferent to us and at worst down right intolerant of us. What we are facing in the next four years (I hope) is a reversal of that, and therein lies our victory.

Second, this man is NOT the second coming of Jesus. He will (and does) have his failings. We must hold him accountable for them just as we would any other president. If he screws up royally, (which I hope and pray he does not) we shouldn't give him a pass because of the color of his skin. ALL of our leaders should have their feet held to the fire because they're decisions affect us all. Obama should be no different.

I don't mean for this post to sound pessimistic, Obama was the candidate I chose and I'd choose him again. I just want the african american community to be realistic and fair when it comes to the next four years. I want that for the whole country.

Where are the words you're supposed to be writing?

I asked myself this question today. I think I'm suffering from a little writer's block. That, or nothing's really inspired me to write more than a blurb here or there. I'm gonna work on that, 'cause I think of a lot of stuff that I want to write about, but then I get distracted by life and forget where I was going with the thought. I'm gonna keep a notebook in my bathroom( that's where I do my best thinkin' and brainstormin'...hey, don't you judge me) and make sure I write down some of the fruits of the mental tangents I go on. I think I'm also going to start journaling my dreams. Something good might come out of that, too.

Hm. This was quite a productive little ramble. I have a mission now. I feel good.

'Night.

WHY.....

does every 10th person on myspace refer to themselves as a 'socialite'? And what's with the pictures of men with necklaces dangling sexily out of their mouths? LOL. Why is THAT a trend? And don't get me started on all the pictures of half naked women who are only too happy to put themselves on display like racks of beef, but won't show their faces. It's like "here's my ass, here are my tits" the rest of me ain't important. SMDH.

All purpose fuckery...we have GOT to do better.

Because I'm too much of a chicken to say it to his face...

I still think of you as mine. Even though you are not (not in a way that would matter to anyone else, that is) I still think of you as mine. Despite everything we've been through, you, sir, are in my bloodstream. I can't shake you...and I am no longer operating under the pretense that I want to. You gave me the best part of myself...the best part of my life, but even if we did not have him, I would still love you.

I love you.

Edited to add: I no longer feel this way. He's a good guy...just not for me.