Tuesday, November 10, 2015

King of the Castle

It has been a while. I have absolutely no excuse. Ok, I do. If you have been watching he Hot, Black and Bitter Facebook page, you know that Lefty and I are expecting what will undoubtedly be a super smartass in baby form. So, I have been sacrificing all my writing duties (and some household duties) to practice my superpower of growing a little human. Essentially, I nap... a bunch. I (generally) don't feel bad about that either. Tums have become my best friend. Tums and fiber pills. Yep, just in case you are wondering, I am tripping the life fantastic over here. But no worries-- this will not turn into a baby blog, mostly because even the title Hot, Black and Bitter is not the first thing you think of when talking about a loving mother. Right?! Also, this was never meant to be a baby blog. Or nice. Or a reference for coochie coos, baby milestones and lost teeth. This is where I come to drop words and phrases that I don't even say in front of MY mom. I have decided to keep this blog, because Lord knows having a baby is only going to make me MORE opinionated on some subjects AND start a baby blog that people can read... just in case that is your thing. So, yeah. I'll let y'all know when that goes all the way live. We can meet on the inter webs for play dates and shit. I'm pumped. So, before I start blogging here again-- because SO much shit has happened that I feel the need to share my fantastic sarcasm for ALL to see-- I want to send out a special thanks. Didn't I just say this was not the place for touchy feely bullshit? Eh, I blame it on the pregnancy hormones, so sue me. When I tell y'all that my husband is a saint... ok, he might not be a saint yet, but after a lifetime with me, he should be up for sainthood. On my best, non-pregnant, day I am a handful and a half. Seriously. I know it. Breaking into year 38 of life, I doubt that it is going to change much. Add to that some *slight* mood changes, swollen toes, needed naps and, in general, my uterus being on fire with a growing alien and that handful and a half quickly multiplies. Through it all, though Lefty has been a dream. He doesn't always know the right thing to say when I am having some dramatic meltdown, he just kind of lets me have my moment and then asks me if I need anything. He is just so chill-- a natural deterrent to my brand of crazy. Woo Hoo!! So, before I re-engage in this blogging thing I want to take a little time to say thanks to Lefty for getting cheese fries at 2:30 in the morning, listening to me whistle from my nose because of early morning congestion, letting me take naps when we are supposed to be having productive Saturday afternoons, rubbing my swollen feet when you come in from work, text messaging me to check in on my crazy ass, transporting the laundry baskets downstairs, letting these nutball canines in and out of the house and having very frank discussions about pooping... you know, total party conversations. I would not want to venture out on this limb with anyone else. Let's pray it doesn't kill us! LOL

Saturday, September 05, 2015

Soulful Saturday - Kwame

So way back when, when I was young, there was a music revolution happening!! Part of that musical revolution was Kwame. He was super cool, he had that blonde streak in his high top fade... he wore polka dots. As I live and breathe, he was the dark skinned candy man of my little pre-teen dreams. And guess what? He is STILL fine. YES!! And he is still in the music game. And I am still infatuated. Let Kwame have a concert in Columbus... Let that happen. Y'all will have to come rescue me from jail; the charge will be some kind of jumping on the stage and living out my pre-teen dreams, slaughtering lyrics like an asshole. And it would totally be worth it.

My chocolate dreams, realized.

Ownlee Ewe

The Rhythm

Sweet Thing

You Gotz 2 Get Down

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Wee Hours - Summer Heat, Yard Work and Baby Showers

Ahh, the wee hours of the morning. I do not normally greet them with enthusiasm, but here I am this morning, trying to silently sip coffee while my households sleeps. And snores. They sleep and snore, even the smallest dog. A pack of snorers.

Like I said, normally I would be fast asleep at 6:26 am. Wrapped up in my blanket like a little burrito, dreaming about the adventures of the upcoming day. Ok, having a nightmare about the long to-do list that I have to conquer. Dreaming about a very large cup of coffee; wishing that I could spend the day watching bad Lifetime movies and eating cake. Cake with no calories. What can I say? I dream like a champion. But here I am, wide eyed, getting a caffeine fix, listening (over the sound of snoring-- seriously, it could be an Olympic event in this house) to the cast of CSI trying to solve a murder in an hour.

Yard Work

Why, you ask? Why am I awake as the freaking sun is coming up, sitting on my bedroom floor, typing remarkably (freakishly) quiet? Easy, I was out in the elements yesterday. Listen, summer is confused as hell here in Columbus, Ohio. We went from rain every day to 90 degrees and 100% humidity. From floods to oppressive heat. From dreary to hot like hell. My air conditioner is confused. My garden is confused. Shit, I am confused. Yesterday, I must have woke up feeling invincible. My inner Billy Bad Ass was in full effect because I KNEW it was going to be hot and I still was in my "Oh, I have shit that HAS to get done" mode. Outside shit. Girl, what? Lefty had a man-date with my dad to work on one of his cars and I had PLENTY to get done IN the house, but decided to be "helpful." Lefty woke up early (for him) and was out the door by 10:40-- it was already 80 degrees out.  Before he went over to mom and dad's, Lefty told me he had some outside work to do when he got back. I knew that a heat advisory was going into effect at noon, so guess what I did? Mowed the grass. Well, in the front yard... then I cleaned up stray grass with the weed wacker. Um, so, I won't be doing that shit again. Generally Lefty does yard work. Until yesterday, I had never even started a gas powered mower. Until yesterday I hadn't noticed that our front yard was hilly. As hilly as San Francisco. I am totally counting that shit as a workout.

Baby Shower

Wait-- I wasn't done being Wonder Woman. I packed up some downspout extenders and took them to my aunt's house, stood around and shot the shit for an hour, in the sun (she was also doing yard work). Came home, fell on the bed, declared that whoever thought up air conditioning was a giant amongst men, showered and got ready to leave for my cousin's baby shower. Got in the car and headed to Target for a gift. My thought process was that I didn't need to turn on the air in the car-- I mean I rarely use it and I live relatively close to Target and the venue for the shower, so I would be ok, right? Um, that was the dumbest thought I have had in my entire life. I had on a sun dress and by the time I made it to Target I felt like I was swimming in my own sweat. It was gross. Also, I should have taken someone who has children with me, because I don't know shit about babies. I called Momma Hot, Black and Bitter from the pet aisle. Because I didn't know where the baby aisle was. It only got worse from that point on. I finally decided on two different sizes of diapers and some wipes and headed for the door.

Still no air on in the car (what the hell was I thinking?); got lost at the venue. This was turning into a preview of heathen hell. If I spontaneously burst into flames I would have only been a few degrees hotter than I was in the car. Finally got to the baby shower... was there for 8 minutes. Yeah, I am not exaggerating. Eight minutes. My cousin was super cute-- her little belly was adorable-- but when I walked in I gave her my Target purchases and told her I wasn't going to be there long. My reason? Uh, I'm fat and it was hot under that wig. Yo, I keep it 100.

I made my rounds... had a whole conversation about how ridiculously helpless I was in the baby aisle at the store, hugged my cousin and headed the hell up outta there. Made it home, again sent blessings to whoever invented air conditioning (I should really find out who that was), took off my clothes and proceeded to take a nap. A heat induced coma nap. And I slept for 5 hours. And I don't regret it for a moment. Nap time is the best time.

Oh, if anyone is wondering, I am not leaving this house today. Happy Sunday.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Soulful Saturday - Jackson 5

I woke up this morning feeling like I ended a little something. I never know what that "something" is that I ned-- especially before I have coffee, so I had no idea what Soulful Saturday was going to look like. So, I logged onto YouTube-- trying to be quiet because Lefty is a second shifter-- and did some exploration. Much to my surprise, I have not ever done a Jackson 5 post. Where have I been? I mean, I love the little darker skin, flat chested, big afro Michael... and the matching outfits... and the dance moves. This (and the Karate Kid marathon on Spike) made my morning.

I Want You Back

I'll Be There

Dancing Machine

The Love You Save

Who's Loving You 

Never Can Say Goodbye 

Wednesday, July 08, 2015

Wanderlust - Austin, TX

Good Mercy -- it has been a while!! I had planned on taking a blogging break because Lefty and I were traveling for three weekends in a row and wouldn't you know it... as soon as I decided to take a little break, everything goes CRAZY!! There weeks ago, I was getting ready to go to Blogging While Brown in Austin, Texas. I was super hyped because one of my dear friends lives in Austin, so Lefty and I planned to stay with her and her husband and eat our way through Austin at night. The last time I was in Austin was during SXSW in 2008 AND this was going to be our first big trip of the summer, so I was happy, happy. 

Then came the news - a gunman worshipped at a church in Charleston, SC then stood up and shot and killed 9 people. Not the news I needed to hear; not the fight I wanted to take up-- again; not the beginning of fun times, right? I commented on Twitter and my Facebook page, liked the well written blogs about the tragedy, but I have decided not to write about it myself... right now. I am not sure that my words would be entirely helpful and I am not totally convinced that I can relay my feelings in a way that could be read by small children or nuns (if you get what I mean). I am angry, y'all. Like, clock on everyone, angry. Like, these deep breaths and counting to 10 is not even phasing these fucked up feelings I have, angry. So that is gonna be another battle for another time.  

I went to a fabulous conference but then came home to a once flooded basement. What?! Around 26 inches of water invaded our basement during/after the torrential downpour that central Ohio received the last Saturday of June. When we came home late Sunday night, surprise does not even touch how I was feeling. 1:30 AM and that 'wet' smell in your basement; destroyed belongings; soggy, wet cardboard; wet drywall; hot water heater, out; A/C out-- in the summer... Y'all. So not happy. That was the at the conclusion of the FIRST trip.  I haven't really been wearing a smile while dealing with this, but I will tell you about my trip and even give y'all some pics to look at (woot, woot!)

One of my best girlfriends moved from Chicago to Austin earlier this year. She loves it! The food is fabulous, the people are nice and there is plenty to do. To say that we had fun would be an understatement! :) Below are some photos from out explorations. Austin is going to be a destination for us to visit again... really soon.  Here are some of what was captured digitally while we were in the Lonestar State. 

While walking down the street downtown, we got some advice. Some good advice!

This made me laugh. So hard. Hilarious. 

In a smoke shop, off the beaten path. 

Listen. Listen. Listen. If you are in the Austin area... get to Kreuz. Immediately. You're welcome.

The longer the Internet exists, the MORE we all know this sticker is necessary & true. 

Monday, June 08, 2015

Manic Monday - McKinney, Texas

I cannot even deal. By now everyone with access to the internet/interwebs/Madame Google has seen the now infamous video of a rogue cop brutalizing Black children at a pool party. I chose those words very carefully-- rogue cop brutalizing Black children... because truly, that is what happened. I took to my personal Facebook page and aired my digest with the whole situation. I have laid out arguments about police brutalization on this blog before and honestly, my argument has not changed.

I should not have to change my reaction to bad behavior by police, so that they can feel better about themselves. I should not have to kiss their asses so they won't see me as a threat and end my life. I should not have to tell people that racism is real. I should not get blow back from acquaintances who have absolutely no clue about the life I live, or the treatment that I get from police on a regular basis.

You know what? I refuse to believe that people see these viral videos and immediately think that they are fake. People know that this shit is actually going down. They excuse the behavior because (and I am about to hurt some "liberal" feelings) they believe the stereotypes. Some of them believe that minorities deserve this degradation, but would never say so out loud. But their actions (or non action) says it, loud and clear. That statement is for my silent white friends, my silent Asian friends, and most definitely my silent Black friends. Silence is acceptance. There were other police officers there, parents and adults and not ONE attempted to step in and get the cop under control. When he threw that little girl to the ground, several times, there were adults right there. Silent adults who, through their actions, screamed their acceptance of his awful behavior. For me, that is the truly despicable part.

I will continue to speak out. I will continue to fight. I will continue to be dismayed at the bad behavior of the few and he willful blindness of the many.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Soulful Saturday - Country (Pop)

So, I have a friend that will absolutely HATE this post. I'm ok with it & sending him love and hugs anyway.

Lefty and I were having a conversation last weekend (that is how most of these blog posts start, a conversation in passing) about country music. I don't really DO country music. I mean, it just is not my thing. My contribution to the conversation was something along the lines of "I think that there is an outline for country songs. It has to have a twang, a pickup truck, a coon dog and they have to be in love with a sister or a cousin, right?" Lefty was not totally on board with my assessment, but at least he agreed that there HAS to be a twang.

I have a couple of friends (brothers, no less) that think that today's country is awful-- they are purists... Country Music Purists. Who knew? Now I am not sure what that entails, but I am SUPER SURE that country music purists will hate every song listed tonight. Know why? Because I like my country music catchy, poppy, with hot guys in a cowboy hat and tight jeans. And I make no apology for that. I am sure that country music of yesteryear (just like R&B music) was better than what is presented now... but my standards in the country genre are VERY low. So low... they only wear a cowboy hat and tight jeans. Here is looking at you, hot boys with twangs, in love with your sister, your dog and (most importantly) your pickup truck. Here is to you!!

Sam Hunt - Take Your Time

You know what? I feel your judgey eyes. I don't care. He played college football and in our pretend relationship his nickname is "The Body" and he loves chocolate girls. So now!

Florida Georgia Line - Cruise

The epitome of 'Bro Country' and honestly, I am sure they have come out with other songs... but those songs don't include Nelly... so I am not interested. Nelly: You make me wanna roll my, roll my... Ooo!!

Brantley Gilbert - Small Town Throw Down

WHO ARE THESE BOYS?!?!?! This video just cracks my shit up. I canNOT even deal when I watch this. It has no chill. Hey, did you know that there is redneck grapevine? Me either. Let's throw down!

Keith Urban - Come Back To Me

The prettiest of the pretty country boys. I don't care that he is 5 feet tall. I don't care that I (most likely) outweigh him by at least 20 pounds. I don't even care that on my best day, his hair will ALWAYS look better than mine. I don't care. Keith is my country husband. Don't be jealous. And back up... don't make me cut you for touching my little man.

Blake Shelton - Honey Bee 

He is SUPA fine... but I am scared of his wife, so I am laying no claims. SUPA FINE.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Soulful Saturday - Pat Benatar

A few weeks ago, Lefty and I took a short trip east on 70 to a cute little town called Zanesville, for a Pat Benatar concert. What?! Oh yes, that is right, Pat Benatar. Now, we have been trying to see this showstopper for a while. We got tickets twice last year and the show was rescheduled each time. We actually joked-- wondering if this concert was going to happen, but we took the trip anyway. It is about an hour in the car... and really, who wouldn't travel an hour to hear Pat Benatar belt out some 80s songs and hopefully NOT do a dance move.

This concert was part of her 35th anniversary tour with her seriously adorable husband. Seriously adorable. Like, hot. And when I tell you that we had a ball. Y'all, we had a BALL. There was dancing in the aisles. There was some loud singing along. Think of it as a two hour, stationary car concert... because that is what it was. And I loved every moment of it.

I think that Pat and Neil are still touring. If they are, do yourself a favor, GET THEE TO THE CONCERT. She still sounds and looks great and they compliment each other perfectly. Below, for your enjoyment (and mine-- reliving the night) here are some rocking selections from Ms. Pat Benatar. Feel free to dance, or just grab that paddle brush off your bathroom counter and sing along. If you want to dress in 80s clothes and crimp your hair, I can get with that-- just make a video because I need evidence that it happened! :)

We Belong

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Heartbreaker/Ring of Fire (from another 2015 show!)

Love Is A Battlefield (yes, yes it is)
**ps I hope that whoever talked Pat into that dance sequence never worked on another music video for the rest of their lives.

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Soulful Saturday - In Memoriam

This year has been rough. Lefty and I were talking yesterday and I recounted that in the last 9 weeks, three people that I have known well have passed away-- two of them were my age. You know, that is a lot... and those feelings led to this entry. 2015 has not spared musicians either. This week the world lost a genius. Someone who receives heavy play on my iPod-- the incomparable B.B. King.

Lefty told me yesterday that it is sad when someone passes away, but the good part (if there is one) is that people remember good things; we tell stories and reminisce. And I guess that is true. You don't really think of it at the time, because you are hurting, but remembering the good times is what gets us through.

Here are three giants that we lost this year... and their biggest hits.

B.B. King - The Thrill is Gone

Ben E. King - Stand By Me

Percy Sledge - When A Man Loves a Woman

**One of my most favorite songs, ever**

Monday, May 11, 2015

Manic Monday - Death By Social Media

Ah, weekends. Around here they are known as "catch  up on sleep days" or "have an actual conversation with your husband... two days in a row" days or, my personal favorite "let's make a list of all the shit we aren't going to get done in two days." This past weekend was a lovely mixture of all these things. I was feeling under the weather last week, so this weekend was gonna be my first few times out of the house (other than Friday's workout with momma HBB), plus we hadn't really started the garden yet, we needed groceries... you know, all that jazz. So here I was, checking Facebook on Saturday morning because... yeah, I wanted to. A bajillion things to do-- AFTER a Facebook check, right?

It was during that "quick check" on Saturday that I learned of the happenings of the night before. Picture this, a hot and muggy night in Georgia, a high school graduation and a chick off her rocker. I am sure that we all know by now that Nancy Gordeuk lost her damn mind in front of graduating seniors and their family members, calling people goobers, cowards and trying to call out Black people for leaving the graduation ceremony. After social media (primarily #BlackTwitter) completely lambasted her, she sent out a half-assed apology and appeared on her local news station. She says that the "Devil was in the house" on Friday night and "he came out of her mouth" in front of family members of the graduating seniors. That was her take in the pseudo apology. On the news she said she is NOT racist and it wasn't like she called those Black people the n-word. Ma'am. I NEED YOU TO TAKE A SEAT. IMMEDIATELY. The devil made you do it? Oh, ok.

She wasn't the only fool that died by social media in the last 72 hours. Her knucklehead son put his address on Facebook and invited people over to fight if they disagreed with his mama. He also used the n word in a subsequent post. Those posts have now been taken down. (Surprise, surprise... oh, I can guess what kind of backwoods upbringing that... youngster had.)

In addition to these shenanigans, some douchebag running for the mayor of Gahanna (a little suburb of Columbus) was taken to task about his previous social media posts. Joseph Gergley, a 26 year old special case, essentially showed his homophobic, racist side on his twitter account-- as recently as last year. When the sinister tweets were discovered, Gergley blamed it on youthful indiscretions.  Sir, what exactly did you think was going to happen when you ran for public office? Did you think that those tweets could just stay out there and never be questioned? Did you think it was funny to compare a central Ohio Walmart to Ferguson, Missouri? And you thought the voting public would be okay with that? Why exactly? Oh my, Monday, you do me so wrong. Annnnnnnd to round off the list of the top three most pathetic people of the last 72 hours, George Zimmerman was in the news today for being shot at in a road rage incident.

Listen folks, let me tell you what you should know already: if you are a horrible person in your every day life, you will get caught being a horrible person. Whether it is on twitter or in front of people who send their children to your school and in fact, pay your salary, YOU WILL BE FOUND OUT. I will never understand why people insist on being jerks AND doing it in writing or on video. Nancy yelled at a guy who was taping her. That is how this whole situation got started. So she HAD to know, before she made her super racist and unnecessary comment, that someone would see it. Gergley (who has since deleted his Twitter account) had a public page. Dude, what? I mean, I know that people are forgiving and you will (unfortunately) always have someone who will be willing to take your apology but why give them ammunition? Why put yourself in a position where you HAVE to apologize? Why not just be a stand up kind of person all the time? Too much like right? Oh, I see.

Listen: I know that not everyone agrees with my stances, political or personal. I get it. Not everyone agrees with being a liberal, the death penalty, interracial marriage, reproductive rights, feminism, civil rights, equal rights, equal pay, or pet rescue. There are people that will disagree with everything that I stand for-- and that is fine. But there is a way to say it-- especially if you are, I don't know, a principal or running for public office.  As my mother used to say (ok, she still says it to me because clearly, I need the reminder) "It is not WHAT you say, it is HOW you say it."  Don't put your business in the public forum, for everyone to see, and then complain when your credibility dies on social media, You did that to yourself and just like Nancy, Joseph and George, you deserve whatever the social media gods hit you with. Check yourself. We should ALL be using social media like everyone can see it... because everyone CAN.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Monday Musings - Exhaustion

I look at the world in which we live and I have to admit... I grow tired. Today the family of Freddie Gray laid his body to rest and the city of Baltimore erupted in riots. And the court of public opinion erupted with name calling and judgments passed. And then there is me-- tired. Tired of the cause, tired of the automatic judgments, tired of lazy police work and tired of lazy self discipline.

I am sitting here watching the news and I am hearing the Police Commissioner and even the Mayor of Baltimore- both Black, lay blame SOLELY at the feet of the protesters, and that, my friends, is wrong. Too many times I see my Facebook feed full of people from Columbus, Ohio talking about what they WOULD not do... which is really easy because we DON'T have to do anything. We have been blessed - thus far - because central Ohio has been relatively unscathed by police brutality. But you can't be lulled into some false sense of security because it hasn't happened to you. You cannot completely dismiss the cause of their anger. You cannot discount the pain that the community feels at yet ANOTHER unnecessary death. You cannot and more importantly SHOULD NOT dismiss these city uprisings as simply criminal behavior. If you do that, you are being short sighted. You are giving no legitimacy at all to the daily fight that comes with being born Black/Brown in America.

Now-- I think it is necessary (and easy FOR ME) to say that I don't agree with the destruction of property or harming people. I do not agree with looting, stealing or felonies during a time of protest. I also do not agree with the militarization of an American city, injuring police officers or the unnecessary death of a citizen while in police custody.

I do not agree with all of those things. On any given day, I would not flood the streets with my friends and protest. On a normal day in the life of Hot, Black and Bitter I would not advocate for what is happening in Baltimore this evening. HOWEVER, these are not normal times. These are not average days. The facts are these: almost every month since July 2014 there has been a VERY public death of a minority person... all over the country. You read that right. Starting with Eric Garner in July and ending with Freddie Gray a week and a half ago, there have been at least 10 deaths of minorities where there is video/proof of misconduct. And for each of these instances there has been no answer. Nothing. There has been no movement made to make streets safer for Black and Brown citizens to be on. There has been no follow through with community groups. How do I know that? Because the undercurrent of disenfranchisement continues to run deep.

It is amazing that people actually think there is a "proper" way to protest. There is not proper way to protest. Good behavior is not always going to get what you want, what you need. People are sick of constantly living with a target on their back; of being treated like a criminal- even if they are law abiding; being stopped for a broken tail light and ending up in the morgue. The conditions which people are forced to live under lays down a trail towards civil disobedience. And as long as there are severe instances of misconduct or intolerable conditions, there will be an angry response. And there SHOULD be. Protest against the status quo is what America is built on... or have y'all forgotten? Our "founding fathers" protested and fought wars to get what they wanted. Our country continues to do that on a global scale NOW. It truly is the American Way. So why all the name calling on the streets of Baltimore, NYC, Ferguson, Cleveland, Chicago? You know why... and so do I.

Just an aside to all y'all folks saying that you can't understand the reasoning behind these protests... count yourself lucky. Be happy that you have not been placed in a position where you would need to protest and potentially put your life on the line. Be glad that the injustice that blacks the eye of our country on a global scale has not touched YOU. Maybe the view from that high horse is different than what we can see when our boots are on the ground and our hearts are on our sleeves?

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The At Home Chronicles - Bugs and Karate

I have gotten back from some traveling and things around the house are starting to get on schedule. Lefty still works second shift and I (generally) still wake up early in the morning. You know, let the dogs out, drink coffee, watch the news... Drink coffee. All the important stuff. Last week Momma Hot, Black and Bitter and I started going to the gym after she drops the kiddos off at school, which kind of cements my morning routine. I get up, get myself together and meet her for a workout and by the time I get home, Lefty is awake.

The was the plan today as well, but NOOOO. Today, I was traumatized. I got up, let two of the three pups out and headed to the kitchen to get that oh so great caffeine drip going. I made tea last night, to lull my crazy ass to sleep, and was getting ready to pour out the remaining water in the carafe. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, that my eyes were open and I was not just on autopilot this morning!! Got the lid off the carafe and started to pour the hot water in the sink (yep, the water was still hot... Cuisinart is AWESOME) when all of a sudden I see something move in the sink.

Oh, is this how today was gonna start?!?! Oh, I see. Y'all, I wasn't ready.

I look down and there was a centipede STARING at me. From my own fucking sink. Y'all this little disrespectful bastard was taunting me-- with all of his little appendages. G-R-O-S-S. And when I say that I freaked THEE fuck out, it is no exaggeration. I freaked out. Listen-- I got half my workout before I ever left for the Y. I did the windmill, like that centipede was trying to fight me. Keep in mind that I still had the carafe in my hand, half empty. Soooo, imagine my crazy ass, in my kitchen, doing my best "wax on, wax off" impression with a coffee carafe in my right hand. Needless to say, the floor was wet, I had to change my t-shirt and that stupid centipede was nowhere to be found. Not that I was looking for him!

Oh, and I move in silence. I couldn't scream because Lefty was still sleeping after a late night at work. So my Karate Kid imitation was done in silence, in my dark kitchen. Slick moves, death of the opponent, in the dark and I am Black... I think that means I am a ninja.

I bounced back - kinda. I had a coffee, went to the gym, came back to make lunch for Lefty before he went to work. I told Lefty all about my silent adventure and had him look for the centipede... he found him!! Ack!! Apparently my ninja moves worked!! The centipede drowned. Victory! I hope that his little carcass will serve as a reminder for his little centipede buddies to stay outside where they belong. We are NOT playing around in this house!

This stay at home shit is no joke. For real.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Love and Happiness - Work Life, Home Life

I am officially unemployed. One of the hardest sentences I have ever typed. So, yeah. It has happened before-- in 2008 and 2009. Crap economy, working for two non-profit organizations, bound to happen. I was bummed. Laid off, new(er) mortgage in a less than desirable Chicago neighborhood, wondering what the hell I was going to do with my crazy life. I was scared. I worked temp jobs- two and three at a time- had some help from family and friends, lived off my savings and got unemployment when I could. Hard times.

This time is not that. On Friday, March 13 I put in my two week notice to leave my job. My cousin had just passed away, I was going through it... doing some self examination and you know what?  I wasn't happy. I mean, listen, a job is a job and all days won't be fantastic-- we all know that. But when I thought about where I spent the vast majority of my time, what I was doing every day, what kept me away from my family, I just didn't want it to be what I was doing. The company is ok, I have no (abnormal) complaints about my co-workers, the management mirrors most management... The issue was me. My heart wasn't in it and I dreaded going-- every day, not just Monday. And when you are reminded-- clearly reminded-- about the extreme brevity of life, why would you continue to do something that doesn't make you happy?

So I had a talk with Lefty and we decided that the best option was for me to leave. Now, I am not saying that the option I chose is the best option for everyone. In fact, some of my co-workers seemed really upset that I was leaving a steady paycheck to "sit at home and depend on my husband." Couple things-- 1. that is not what is going on here BUT 2. if it WAS... Y'all already know what I am going to type: what happens in my house is my business. A steady paycheck is not the end all be all, especially  in my situation. Too many of us are out here selling our souls and our happiness for a paycheck from someone else-- some out of necessity, some out of greed. If I can be fulfilled AND paid, I am going to take that option-- and firmly believe that others should too.

I am EXTREMELY blessed to have this option and so grateful to Lefty for being completely supportive in this unorthodox decision. Not many men, in today's economic climate, CAN or WANT to have less income coming in on a regular basis-- even if the happiness of their spouse is in question.   So, thank you, my darling. Here is to the next step in our household... let's see what trouble we can get into! :) Look out, Columbus... Miss Mox has broken free!

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Somber Times, Changing Times

Ah, life. Ever so fleeting. The morning after my last post I got a call that I was not expecting and it has truly changed the way that I have been thinking of things lately. On March 8 Lefty and and I were awakened with the news that one of my cousins had passed away, very unexpectedly. These last two weeks have been... indescribable.

I have to say this-- my extended family has been relatively untouched by death. I have friends that lose family members every year, some even every few months or so-- not so with us. The last person in our family that passed away was my sweet aunt and her death was the reason that I moved from Chicago back to my hometown. So, we have definitely been fortunate. But being fortunate in this area makes each loss more shocking. Even more heartbreaking.

I have never really been a very emotional person. I cry when I get ANGRY-- but not really when I get sad. I tend to become very introverted when hit with a tragedy. I am not as vocal as I would normally be-- online or in real life. I am just... less me, if that makes sense. And that is how I have been for the last couple of weeks. I have truly struggled with the death of someone so young (same age as me); someone so integral to our family-- and I am currently making changes in my life to make sure that the time I have becomes the best life that I can make it.

I was asked to speak at my cousin's funeral and I did. It is an honor to stand in front of loved ones and remember great times that you have had, lessons you have learned and events that you will never forget. Listen y'all-- life is moving, full speed ahead, make sure that the life you are living is the life that you want. All too often we live the EXPECTED life, not the one that we WANT.

Below are my remarks from the funeral, may we all continue to rally around one another and keep each other strong...

Hello, my beautiful family.

It is with great sadness that I stand up here and deliver this eulogy for my sweet cousin, Christina. I have spent almost every waking moment since getting that dreaded call last week, trying to make sense of losing someone so early... so unexpectedly. But I can't. There is no making sense of this situation. In a little over a week, I have not come up with one reason why Tina had to be taken away from her daughter, her brothers, Aunt Pam and all of us. There is no answer to the Why.

So what I have decided to do is to celebrate Tina, the life she lived and the impact that she made on all of us. And for me, that impact was significant. You know, most people will tell you that your cousins are your first friends-- especially if you are close in age. Well, there were three of us born in 1977. Born in July, August and October, we spent a lot of time together as kids. And the three of us being so close in age did not help our mothers one bit-- if we were superheroes we would have been known as the Tiresome Threesome. We were into everything as little kids. We were criers, biters and heathen toddlers all at the same time. My first friends. Together we learned some very important life lessons: 1. that being different from one another was ok, 2. that if two of us were guilty we should probably place blame on the one not participating and 3. the most important family rule there is to learn: we can fight & argue with each other, but no one else can fight & argue about one of us. My first friends.

I can't express to you how much I will miss her. How much we will all miss her.

So I am now faced with a different question: How can I honor her memory properly? The answer to that is simple-- for all of us. We can honor Tina's memory by living the best lives that we can, right now, today. Do something that you have always wanted to do; chase your passion, whatever it is; start a new business, travel to every state or internationally. Love this family as much as Christina did: Let's not simply talk about getting together-- let's get together. Let's take care of one another. Be good to one another. Be as giving as Christina was: when she passed, Tina helped saved the lives of people she didn't know-- she was an organ donor... sign up for something like that, volunteer with the Kidney Foundation, the Red Cross, Big Brothers/Big Sisters, become a foster parent. Contribute. Reach out and teach someone else those life lessons Tina helped me learn.

Let today be our new beginning.

I will remember Tina's big smile, great laugh, selfless acts and her amazingly kind heart. Birthday parties in the backyard, mud pies baking in the summer sun, how much she loved her family and how wonderfully sincere she was. I love you. My first friend.

Saturday, March 07, 2015

Soulful Saturday - Songs of Protest

This weekend the city of Selma, Alabama is getting a ton of visitors who want to observe the 50th anniversary of the Civil Rights Movement coming into that town and giving outsiders with a peek into what can only be seen as the underbelly of race relations in modern America. The 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday (in America, not to be confused with the 1972 incident in Ireland) also known as the Selma to Montgomery march.

So for today, I thought that a small catalog of protest songs would be appropriate. For many years people have used music to speak on the happenings of the day-- good and bad. I mean, there are songs about love, heart break, loss, joy, pain, slavery, racism, sex... everything. Way back in the golden, olden days I did a paper in college on the Civil Rights Movement, where people used whatever platform they had to voice their concerns over what was happening in America. Music was definitely one of those avenues. The music made during that time is heart stopping. It should make you do some soul searching. It should inspire you to make the world a better place before you leave this Earth.

The list of protest songs is long and there are many renditions to fall in love with. Here are a few of my favorites.

Nina Simone - Strange Fruit

Well, well, well. Since this Thursday's Scandal episode, many people clearly did not know who Nina Simone was... and I feel bad for them. This week her "I Shall Be Released" was featured on Scandal and I have seen the video pop up several times in my FaceBook feed. But even before Thursday, Nina was categorized as a musical genius. Check her out:

Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds

Pretty sure that my parents got tired of hearing the Byrds, the Turtles, Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix streaming from my bedroom when I was in high school (I went through a serious 60s stage). Protest songs from mop headed boys? Loved it. A song that includes lines from the Bible to protest inequalities? Love it more. My favorite line: "A time for love, a time for hate. A time for peace, I swear its not too late."

Masters of War - Eddie Vedder

This is a Bob Dylan song, but we all know that I love Eddie. Long time love. War home and abroad, this song covers it all. Eddie - soft blue eyes, baritone voice and a guitar. Who can not love this guy?!? This was shot during his shorter hair phase. I like it longer, but the music is undeniably wonderful. My favorite line: "I think you will find, when your death takes it's toll, all the money you make will not buy back your soul!"

What's Going On - Marvin Gaye

A song that everyone knows AND fits as a protest song in every decade. Its smooth delivery makes it a little different, but a protest song nonetheless. What he was singing about in the 70s and 80s had happened in the 40s, 50s, 60 and still happens today. This and Inner City Blues should let YOU know that Marvin was in the know. Favorite line: "You know we've got to find a way to bring some loving here today..."

Glory - Common, John Legend

The modern day protest song. The movie was ok- the soundtrack was beautiful. John Legend is still super short (and can sing). Common is still fine. SUPA fine!! Favorite line: "Every day women and men become legends." In other words, YOU are able to bring forth change... and you should. Be legendary, my friends.

Monday, March 02, 2015

Where Have I Been - Life Adventures

I used to be so good about updating this blog. Lately it has been sporadic, at best. Yo, I have had a lot going on. I have a few posts that will go up this week, that have been kind of waiting in the wings, and so why couldn't I get off my lazy, (growing) ass to post these lovely ideas and commentary, you ask?! Fantastic question reader!! Let's get into that.

About two weeks ago, I got a throbbing toothache. So, it wasn't horrible, per se, but it was definitely annoying. I have slightly sensitive teeth so of course my first thought was "hey big girl, you probably should not have had that large spoonful of sugar (ice cream, whatever)." And that is a correct statement... probably should stay away from the snack cabinet. That's right, Lefty and I do not have a snack drawer. Oh no-- we have a snack cabinet... full of sweet and/or salty goodness. There are chips and cupcake mix and chocolate and sour gummy candy and... hey- I see those disapproving looks and I don't give a damn. I am a grown ass woman-- I WILL have snacks. Yes. We need a cabinet because ever since we got married, I have been forced to share (read: buy more so I don't technically HAVE to share) with Lefty. Why am I explaining the need for a snack cabinet? See, I start discussing snacks and get off topic. Where was I? Oh yeah, toothache. It started out as an annoying throb. But then...

Last week I was working. Well, I was kind of working. I was sitting at my desk and thinking of a bajillion other places that I wanted/needed to be and all of a sudden... the throb was back. It was back and that bitch was in full effect. Like, I had to take a Tylenol. I should have prefaced that by saying that I generally don't take medication. For anything. Unless something is falling off, will fall out or is filled with infection. I just don't. I get loopy, and while that is very entertaining for others, I don't really appreciate being that chick that you tweet about. Well... not in that context. I took a Tylenol last Monday though because I was trying to look at my computer but the whole right side of my head felt like it was going to explode. Honestly, who has time for that? It hurt so bad that I called my parents' dentist and made an appointment-- for the following Monday. What?! I went about my day-- and I was a bitch. I'll admit it. But my face was GOING.TO.EXPLODE. For serious.

Came home and I could NOT deal with life. I basically said "fuck responsibility" and went to sleep without feeding any of the animals. I barely took my shoes off. Pretty sure there was a trail of clothing from the garage door to the bed, every light in the house was on and more than likely there was a door or two unlocked. Pretty sure. Oh that Lefty!! He won such a prize with a wife that wimps out about one tooth, gets high off two Tylenol and leaves a trail of clothing/tears to the bedroom. Winner, winner, chicken dinner! That lucky guy came home after a long day at work to a punch drunk wife lying diagonal across the bed (like a BOSS). You're totally jealous. Tuesday, the toothache was so bad I actually drooled at my desk while calling the dentist back to see if there was a cancellation-- or who exactly I had to maim to get into the office earlier. Turns out, if you actually SAY that you have a toothache, they get you in the next day... which was my day off. Exactly how I wanted to spend my day off, let me tell you.

Wednesday morning I wake up and damn if that devil tooth is not throbbing like a baseline at a Black fraternity party. Oh, is that how we were gonna play this? That tooth wasn't even going to PRETEND to behave. Oh, I see. Bastard. My appointment was at 1. Had a banana for breakfast because it was the softest thing that we had to eat in this house; no coffee because the devil tooth and hot temperatures were in a fight. So me- in pain and under caffeinated. This was going to be a fun day. I get in the shower and maybe the hot water reminded the devil tooth of HELL and it wanted to go back because I swear fo' God the tooth tried to come out of my mouth on its own. At least that is what I thought the extra throbbing was for. I was getting dressed, it brought me to my knees. I seriously thought if I was feeling the same kind of pain that Nancy Kerrigan felt after that Tanya Harding incident. If I could do anything except silent cry, I would have screamed out "Why? Why? Whhhyyyy?" Poor Lefty. He came into the bedroom, I was doubled over in pain, half dressed. He put one of his sweatshirts on me, attempted to put socks on me (he is not great at that) and brought me my boots. Then he gathered my simple ass up and drove the 10 minutes to the office with me rocking back and forth in the passenger seat like a crackhead in need of a fix. Y'all, the devil tooth hurt so bad it gave me Forest Whitaker eye. IT GAVE ME FOREST WHITAKER EYE.

I get into the office and within 15 minutes and several prayers to sweet baby Jesus, I had x-rays and Novocaine. When I tell you that I love my parents' dentist. I freaking LOVE that dude. Supposedly the devil tooth came out very easily. Like I care. Once the area was numb, they could have jumped up and down on my face and told me that the tooth danced out of my mouth like the Lucky Charms leprechaun. I would not have cared. They packed my mouth full of gauze so I wouldn't leave a trail of DNA to the pharmacy for my antibiotics and pain meds. Thanks for that!! And I spent the next 3 days being loopy and loud talking one liners to Lefty. Again, poor guy. Lesson learned? A spoonful of sugar might make the medicine go down, but if you aren't careful it will give you a devil tooth and Forest Whitaker eye. Lesson learned, folks. Lesson learned.

Friday, February 06, 2015

Fed Up Friday - Mental Health Check Up

Can we have a talk about mental health? I mean, like, a real conversation about mental illness. Not some surface "Oh, it happens to other people" type talk. And definitely not one of those "I don't know anyone with a mental illness" talk. Because you do. You DO know someone who suffers from a mental illness.

I can only write about what I know-- and what I have seen in the Black community is that we, as a whole, pretend that mental illness doesn't affect us. So, if we have an uncle that is depressed, we never say that is what it is. We say shit like "Aye, he has never really bounced back from ___" and let it be that. If we have a schizophrenic brother, we say shit like "that is just how he is," never acknowledging that he could pose a danger to himself or others. We don't talk about suicide attempts, PTSD, Down's Syndrome, Bipolar Disorder, etc. Nothing that makes us look like we are weak. Nothing that makes it easier for others to point out our faults. We admit nothing. Or if we do acknowledge that there may be a problem, we try to pray it away. Prayers with no other action. Honestly, it is sad. 

There are men and women in our community that we are doing a complete disservice by continuously pretending that whatever issues they may struggle with don't exist. They do. These illnesses are real. By denying the existence of these illnesses we allow the stigma to continue; we allow a cancer to continue to grow, unchecked; we allow some of these illnesses to continue to be passed from parent to child, awarding our silence with more illness. All because we don't want other people to perceive us as weak. But when DO we talk about it? When does that time come? When do we start to pair all these prayers up with some action that will help ourselves? 

Let me tell you when we will finally say something... when someone dies or does something harmful. Then we are willing to talk about *possible* issues. Let's look at the present state of Bobbi Kristina Brown. For the longest time we have said nothing about what the death of her mother may have done to her, right? We didn't say anything when she came out and said that she want to marry her "brother" Nick Gordon. We didn't say anything when her appearance started to change. But now-- now that she is in the hospital, possibly still in a coma, now we want to come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe she has been depressed. It isn't just the Black community, but America in general. Remember when Robin Williams died? Ernest Hemingway, his granddaughter Margot Hemingway, Dorian Gray,  Lee Thompson Young, Simone Battle, Kurt Cobain, Freddie Prinze (the dad, not the son), Phyllis Hyman, Carroll O'Connor's son Hugh... the list goes on and on. We actively ignore people's problems, problems that are noticeable, until we no longer can. At that point it is also too late to help. 

We need to sit down and have an honest conversation about mental illness in our communities. We need some innovative thinking to help those suffering. We need to make that help available, without any stigma attached. We need to make sure that we aren't just trying to "pray the crazy away," but instead we pair our prayers with love and WORK towards a plan that will help those in need. We need to insist that our brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents get help... before it is too late.

**Suicide Prevention Hotline 1.800.273.8255; Boy's Town National Hotline 1.800.443.3000; Mental Health America 1.800.969.6642**

Tuesday, February 03, 2015

Could I Be A Republican??

Nope, you didn't read the title wrong. Well, not exactly. I guess I should explain. Whoa-- that is never good... explaining at the beginning? Eek. Ah, well, I mean, how bad could it be? :)

So, a couple days ago, Papa Hot, Black and Bitter were having a hushed telephone call. Hushed because Lefty works second shift and Papa HBB has this thing about calling me in the morning. I think that he just misses me most out of all the kids, so YAY!! Anyway, we were having a hushed conversation about politics. The more I think about our conversation, the more I think that if someone met me, they would assume that I would lean towards the right.

The largest portion of our conversation was about the responsibilities of members of society. What we are supposed to do for our households, our community, and our friends. Clearly not a shocker that my dad and I came up with the same idea on what someone's responsibilities are-- I mean, he taught me responsibility, so of course we would both think that, as members of a civilized society, it is our responsibility to be productive AND to help others. There we were, two *slightly* reformed heathens, talking about how we should help others prosper, because the Bible tells us so. We were a Sunday School song. In real life.

Seriously, we talked about "Christians" that we know that refuse to help people looking for job-- even if they know of job openings. Those who are content to let others suffer, living from paycheck to paycheck, when they KNOW how people can earn extra money. "Christians" who refuse to do community service if it is offered in a building that belongs to another denomination. You know the type, right? "Christians" that will talk about you on Sunday after sitting next to you at the club on Saturday. Super, super petty Sister so-and-so who comes to church with alcohol on her breath, daring you or anyone else to sit in 'her' seat. Super thirsty Brother so-and-so who will tell you what to do in your house, when his house is built on top of a sink hole. And this week-- Brother and Sister so-and-so who are praying so hard for Bobbi Kristina Brown to recover from her medically induced coma, but won't spare a dime, dollar or a good word for their neighbor. Yep, I said that.

Why did this conversation make me think I could be a Republican? Because everything that I have read lately from the Republican party says that they are the party of societal responsibility, Christian values, high moral code, God loving, Jesus fearing... Bible following... See, that sounds good... on paper.

BUT are you working towards the betterment of your fellow man? Are you just talking a good game on social media or are you backing all that talk up? Are you helping people find employment or are you one of those people who say "I have a job, you should go and get one too"? Are you doing community service-- in YOUR community or are you going to a different state or country to help people you don't know? Are you following up with the widows in your life? How about orphans? Do you volunteer for The Boys and Girls Club? Big Brothers Big Sisters? Local recreation centers? Or do you just complain about these crazy kids, walking through your yard in the summertime? Do you take people under your wing? Do you make it EASY for folks to be successful? Or do you only look good on paper?

Moral of the Story-- in theory I could make a great Republican-- on paper-- EXCEPT, I don't just talk a good game on social media, I make it happen. I know I didn't make it here by myself-- and I refuse to be a stumbling block for someone else who is trying to make it. Someone encouraged my crazy thoughts & dreams. Someone told me I could make it to college, get a job, do whatever I wanted. Someone helped me when I got laid off; when I moved to another state; when I bought a house and when I lost it. So I encourage people to do what they are passionate about. I don't look down on folks who make less money than I do. If I can do something that will help my neighbor bring in a honest check, instead of contemplating stealing my shit, I am going to help them. I help with resumes, cover letters, referrals. Because I know a good job is not going to fall in your lap. I know that sometimes things are just out of your control. I know that sometimes you just need a little help, for a little while. So, I am not a Republican, or a Democrat. I am one of those scary, slightly idealistic Independents... that does what she wants, helps the less fortunate and VOTES in every election. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Woman Crush Wednesday - Ida B. Wells-Barnett

A week and a half ago I went to the movies by myself.  Not a rare situation around these parts. I know Lefty doesn't want to see all the movies that I do, and since he works second shift, it just so happens that I have evenings open for silently watching movies in a room full of strangers. The last movie I saw was Selma. Critically acclaimed. Nominated for a ton of awards. Directed by a woman, Selma. That is the one. I thought it was well done...for what it is, but there was one area where I really thought the movie was lacking-- there was only one woman that was consistently shown as an active participant in this portion of the Civil Rights Movement. She was part of the meetings, the marches and she was not married to a man that was in the inner circle. One woman. One.

Um. So I feel the need to be snarky when I say that there is no way that the Civil Rights Movement, as we know it, would have been as successful as it was without the help of the fairer sex. No way. So to see only one woman involved in the inner circle in this movie was slightly disheartening, to say the least. I know that this movie was about one portion of the Movement, but damn. It seems to me that in large AND small instances it is really easy to write women out of the story, or make us background characters and supporting cast members. Nothing could be further from the truth. There were several thousand women who participated in the Civil Rights Movement. Thousands who were marching right along with men, getting the brunt of the police dogs, fire hoses, beatings, jail time and death. Several thousand. It is my contention that we should try to get to know their names-- it truly is the LEAST we could do. So my first Woman Crush Wednesday highlights Ida Wells Barnett.

So, Ida has a special place in my heart because she did a ton for the city of Chicago AND once married she had a hyphenated name (like me) which was a super bold move in 1895. Ida was born a slave on July 16, 1862 in the deep South (Mississippi). She had a swift tongue (like yours truly) and it often got her in trouble. She got a job as a teacher to help her siblings stay together - and out of foster care- after their parents died. While she was teaching, she began to write about the racial injustices that surrounded her-- including the large numbers of lynchings that were happening. This chick was so BAD, she was good!! She received so many death threats that she had to leave Memphis for the great city of Chicago, where she worded tirelessly to improve the conditions of Blacks in the city.

Ida co-founded the National Association of Colored Women, the National Afro-American Council and the Women's Era Club. She was a suffragette, women's rights activist, newspaper feature writer and editor, wife, mother and one of the greatest known figures in the anti-lynching movement.

Ida passed away in Chicago on March 25, 1931-- a little less than 7 months before my maternal grandmother was born, 84 years ago. The work that she started still helps women and society today. How about that for my very first WCW?! :)

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Woman Crush Wednesday

If I am being completely honest, love bugs, I have been feeling some kind of way lately. It has been a lot of things that have kind of set me off, but just here lately, I have been super duper irritated. I know what it is. It wasn't last night's State of the Union address-- though I LOVED the extreme pettiness of it all. I actually giggled at it and live tweeted it like a sporting event. But here is when the laughs turned to extreme anger. So one a few of the memes created last night, there were some smart ass trolls who commented on the idea that women should make the same amount as a man. President Obama said in his speech that it was about time. I think that it is clearly overdue, but some neanderthals seem to think that all women, but particularly Black women, are meant to be nothing more than barefoot and pregnant in some one's kitchen.

 Besides the fact that I consider myself a feminist, I have to say that as an educated Black woman... uh, I am offended. But the offense didn't just start last night-- and the idiots from last night are not the only way that the message that women are less is passed around. There are some women that are responsible for others thinking that we are air headed, baby making machines, like almost all women on these ridiculous reality shows. Fighting, lip smacking, trifling whores who sleep with celebrities with the hopes that they will have a paycheck baby. Chicks that will put everything they have earned, including their involvement in sororities, on the line-- all for their 15 minutes of fame. Women who will get on tv, share every drop of their business and then loudly object when they feel they are being judged. Sigh.

In 2015 I really did not think that I would have to tell people that women are spectacular. I guess I didn't think that it would have to be talked about. I mistakenly thought that by now, everyone would be able to see that while a few women fit into the stereotype that you see on tv and in the news, they are not representative to women all over the country. Take me-- I am married, but I don't have children. And I am collecting a check-- for going to work every day. I do cook for my husband, but he cooks for me too and other than what you read on this blog-- I am hard pressed to make my everyday troubles fodder for prime time tv.

One of my resolutions for this year is to be a more positive example of womanhood. Right- so I know I am Hot, Black and Bitter, but I do hope that my readers know that I am not 100% bitter all the time. No one is 100% anything all of the time. I want Black girls to look at me and think "jeez she looks like me and she is happy (most of the time)." Or "she looks like me and does not need to be validated by some douche bag who is whispering sweet nothings in my ear." Or, better still "hey-- I want to be like Hot, Black and Bitter when I grow up-- an educated smart ass."  HAHAHAHA! Something like that. Essentially, I want to be the very antithesis of the video chick, reality star, ghetto hood rat that you see on the street corner, on your tv, at your school or sitting next to you in church on Sunday (wearing her club clothes, smelling like last night's drinks).

So one way I am going to be an example is to feature women here. Women who refused to sell their soul for fame. Women who made a difference. Women who took on the fight for all of us, giving us more a voice and being a light in dark tunnel. Women who helped us get where we are now. Revolutionaries. They will be my Woman Crush Wednesday. It is going to be fab. Next Wednesday... it is on. See you then.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

What to do?!

Oh my dears... Insomnia strikes again... I hate it. I am sleepy and I have a million things to do in just a few short hours, yet sleep is elusive.

So this is how I spent the last hour, because reading the bad shit that someone wrote about you is hilarious and even more so when you are a celebrity. Plus I am convinced that the next mean tweet I put up about Kirk or Mark May will be featured on the next round of mean tweets. Wouldn't that be fun? (Yes.) College Football edition-- just in time to celebrate my lovely Buckeyes winning the National Championship. Woot! Woot! Enjoy!

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