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?

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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**

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.

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?! :)

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.

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!

Fed Up Friday - Ride or Die

I get so irritated when I am on social media and someone says that they are “Ride or Die” for their significant other/this week’s bestie/co-worker/sister of a friend of a friend, etc. I mean, I am glad that they feel some closeness to someone TODAY, but how long is that loyalty going to last? One month? One year? What is the life expectancy for the relationship that all these people are claiming to be "ride or die" for? Call my a cynic (right!?!) but I don't think I am going out on a limb by stating that "ride or die" for every relationship you have is just not feasible.  I rarely use that turn of phrase because I feel like the overuse lessens the meaning. I can’t lie—there is a group of people that I am ride or die for… my immediate family. Honey, listen: don’t come for my family. You will not like the fallout. There are a LOT of us and I live and breathe and for those folks. They get on my nerves sometimes… but they are supposed to, we are family. I want to punch them sometimes (and have a couple times)… but that is ok, we are family. I can talk about them ALL day and you might even be able to co-sign my objections… but you BET NOT (better not) even think of throwing in your own two cents. Dude, that is my family you talking about. And when you talk about them, thems fighting words to me.

Case and point: Y’all know that I head to my brother’s basketball games whenever I can. He is a freshman in college and he is adorable. I have not introduced the kiddos on the blog, so let's just call this brother Superman. So Superman had a close mid week game and I was able to finagle my way to leaving work an hour early so I could make it down there to watch. Super excited. Rode down the highway with my favorite guy-- Poppa Hot, Black and Bitter. Night was off to a fantastic start. Until we sat down. Now listen, I know that some people really get into seeing their children play sports, and can sometimes be a little... much at sporting events. Oh, but Wednesday night, it was not a parent, it was a drunk ass student. 

The amount of deep breathing that I had to do when he was screaming when my brother was on the court cannot measured. Cannot be measured because I am sure that I may have sucked up all the oxygen in that gym. I was trying hard not to say anything while he was woo hoo hooing it up the ENTIRE game, and while he did not really heckle my brother, per se, he was taking too much joy in heckling a court full of 18 year old kids who were playing their hearts out. The overprotective sister just LEAPT out of me, y'all. I could not help it. Totally a case of bad impulse control. I can admit it. I called his ass out. I flipped him the bird. Unapologetic. Sorry, not sorry style. His friends were telling him to be quiet and amazingly with three minutes left in the game, it was silent. Thankfully. And I told my father that if he was talking shit about my brother, the exchange would have been even more heated. Trust that.  

Here is the thing-- I am loyal, the epitome of ride or die. I am loyal to my family and to the people that my family counts as friends (until they show that they deserve no loyalty). That extends to sports teams, lab partners, tutors. I don't care. I know people heckle to get under the skin of the opposing team. To get in their minds, make them second guess that last pass, that last field goal attempt. I get it. I swear I do. But check this out, these are KIDS. Superman turned 18 after he started college. Kids. This ain't the Knicks and you have no money riding on this game. Our team wasn't jawing it up on the court and the parents who were there were not acting out of line. If you come to a basketball game, drunk and decide that you are going to try to dog my brother and his new found family, you have me to contend with. If you are representing a school that purports to exhibit "values that include integrity, service, simplicity, equality, peace and social justice and respect for all persons" and the "distinctive values of the "Religious Society of Friends (Quakers)" um, I am definitely going to correct you when you get out of line. If there are small children sitting right behind me and you are showing your ass, I will get you in line. And if you come for my brother... BABY... I am coming right at you, guns blazing, straight for the jugular, my friend. Don't do that. Save thyself! I am Ride or Die up in here!! Here is hoping that there is better behavior tomorrow at the game. I might get put out. LOL 

The Bill Cosby Chronicles

If you have been paying attention, you know that Bill Cosby has been accused, by upwards of 20 women, of drugging and, in some cases, raping them. The allegations started to take on steam about three weeks ago, some incidents being discussed took place 30 to 40 years ago. In these last three weeks (which seems like an eternity in this time of 24 hour news) Bill Cosby has refused to dignify these accusations with an answer. He has been silent on guilt or innocence. He has not seemed bothered by the memes, the chatter, the intentional distancing, the bad mouthing or having his honorary degrees taken away. He could not be bothered to make a statement-- except to thank Jill Scott and Whoopi Goldberg for standing up for him. He could not be bothered... until an interview that surfaced yesterday. Bill Cosby has done a (small) interview! Praise!! He took this time, not to say, "hey this shit is not true, I will see all these women in court," he didn't say "aww hell no, that did NOT happen and these people will NOT walk my law-abiding ass into the mud with them." Nope, he took THIS time to tell the "Black Media" to remain neutral on these rape allegations that are circulating. Um, sir. Are you being for real right now? Oh, you are? Because I thought that was a joke. That had to be a joke, right? Right?

You mean to tell me that you have not seen it necessary to come out the side of your mouth to SCREAM that you are innocent, but you do want to make sure that you are seen in a good light in Black Media for as long as possible? Sir. I need for you to take an IMMEDIATE seat. Not right now, but RIGHT NOW. What is wrong with this picture?

Now listen, I am certainly not going to act like I haven't held Bill Cosby in high regard-- I have and I have written about him at least three times... on this blog. I agree with his critique of the Black community. I think that there is SO much that needs to be done to help our community begin to flourish again. I think that Bill Cosby has a sincere desire to make the Black community better, more accountable, better educated and economically stable. I do. His decades of work towards that goal cannot be ignored. HOWEVER, all that work does not make up for these awful deeds that are surfacing (especially since he is not denying them). There seems to be a faction of Black people who want to excuse this behavior and feel like the media, as a whole, is out to get Cosby to get him to stop speaking the truth about race relations in America. I don't think that is happening... at all. The fact is that if, by chance, all the accolades that Cosby has gained are ripped from him, it will be no one's fault BUT HIS. I am not naive. It is not that I think that blackballing someone does not happen-- it does, but at some point Cosby is going to have to take responsibility for his role in drugging and assaulting these women.

The assault on women is REAL, and cannot, SHOULD NOT be dismissed simply because of the length of time it takes to report the crime OR who the abuser is. Women run into more problems if and when they report abuse than if they remain quiet. The way that the system works for the abused is you have to be above reproach; you have to be virginal; you have to have a spotless, sexless background in order to be believed. And if you are virginal, people will question that. You WILL be labeled a whore. Your background WILL be searched and scrutinized. You will be treated, in most cases, worse than the person who abused you. And that is what happens if your abuser is just a regular Joe, a nobody. Can you imagine the heat that these women will take for accusing Bill Cosby, America's Dad?

If Cosby did not do this, he has been a media darling... he KNOWS what he should do. If it is his contention that the allegations are false, he should get in front of those cameras and say that he did not drug and assault those women. The fact that he has not done so, makes me think that he cannot truthfully deny the allegations. And now he wants Black media to be neutral and not crucify him for these crimes. Um... where is that going to happen? That should not even be an option.

What I need from Bill is some consistency. He wants the Black community to be accountable? Cool. I want him to be accountable. He wants Black people to acknowledge their shortcomings so they can get past them? Cool. I want him to do the same. He wants Black men to pull their pants up and be about something? OK. I want him to keep his pants on and stop taking advantage of women. He wants us to look good and to fall in line. I want him to BE good-- for his community, for his legacy, FOR HIS WIFE. He is destroying all of his good works... with his silence. Be accountable, sir. Now.

Why I am So Free-- With the Delete Button

Seems like I always get asked why I am so free to delete people-- most with no warning. I am not sure if people are asking for fear that they are delete-able, or if they are just trying to figure out the degree of bitch I am. Maybe they think I am so self absorbed that I don't want to hear, read, tweet or see opinions that are not the same as mine. Hell, maybe I am that self absorbed... with other things, but, truly, that is not the reason that I delete people on social media or in real life.

The answer is really simple: I delete people, places, things and social media pages that no longer make me happy. Whether it be the fact that they are SUPER negative, posting things that are not researched, bigoted, racist, lacking empathy to a group that encompasses people that I care about, discriminatory (to me or others), ignorant or just that they seem to be so very LOST as to what is happening around them... I just do not have the time, nor the inclination to deal with that on a daily basis.

Listen, Lefty will be the first to tell you-- I am totally addicted to social media. If I am far from my smartphone for long periods of time, I might begin to show symptoms of withdrawal. We always joke that when we buy a vacation home, it should be smack dap in the middle of some heavy acreage... as long as there is wifi. Can't go way out in the boonies without the possibility of contact. LOL. I spend a fair amount of my day tweeting, sharing, looking stuff up online, blogging, Pinterest (it is the devil!), etc. Who wants to spend a vast amount of their day, every day, reading about how you don't think someone who (whatever you don't like) doesn't deserve the same basic human rights as you?

I once had a friend (yeah, I know, hahahaha) who changed her life. She went through something traumatic and completely changed her life around, which was fabulous. The problems crept in when she started to judge the people around her. There was always a condescending tone; always that disapproving look, always a smart ass remark for people that we knew that were doing the best they could with what they had. Man, I had to let that chick go. I mean, who has time to feel like a "friend" is constantly judging you? No one. I also had a "friend" on Facebook who would publicly crucify people on social media, telling them they were going to go to hell, Jesus was watching them, she loved them but not their sin, etc. Now here is the thing: 1- I don't subscribe to making people feel guilty to bring them to Jesus and 2- in her REAL life, this chick was a club bunny, she slept around, she has a few children by a few different men. Um, sis. Jesus doesn't like you faking the funk and I don't like you crowding my timelines with your sanctimonious crap. C'mon now. I don't want to see that day in and day out when I KNOW you are lying. Had to go.

And I would be remiss to mention the people who have no room in their lives to show a bit of empathy towards their fellow man. Last week I was getting all kinds of lectures about how I should teach people United States history so they can try to understand the plight of Black America. Uh, hell no. Listen, all I have for them is the delete button. You were supposed to learn history in your home and in school. I am not a social studies teacher. Besides, no one should have to teach you empathy. That comes with being a freaking human being and not wanting anyone to suffer unnecessarily. I am 30- something years old. It is not MY job to make sure that YOU are a well rounded individual. Hello? That is your responsibility as a grown person. I don't have that to do, buddy. But you know what I do have? A delete button with your name ALL over it. Happy surfing!

Throwback - Where is the Love?

If you have been visiting the Hot, Black and Bitter Facebook page or Twitter feed you know that I have been feeling under the weather this week. Bronchitis has its grip on me, y'all, and it ain't nothing nice. Know what that means? Hard for me to belt out songs during my car concerts on the way home from work. Like, it is so not sexy to hot a high note and spend the next 5 minutes hacking up a lung. Or to sound like Mariah Carey did this week.  What?! Oh, and the appearance of snot bubbles-- yeah that is never, ever the coolest part of your day. It is only about a 20 minute commute and honestly, I have barely been able to hum because this cough is nothing to play with. Plus, WHO wants to see snot bubbles? Uh, let me tell you, the answer to the snot bubbles question is: NO ONE. No one wants to see that. It traumatizes people. More than a car concert. Trust me.

With that in mind, earlier this week I was humming songs on the way home, while enjoying a Halls cough drop- the ones with the "soothing center"- they are the TRUTH, and a song came on that was just so... fitting. It had been years since I heard this song (and I might add that I am generally NOT a fan of the Black Eyed Peas) but I was happy to cruise along and hum this song. With all that is going on, it made me feel better that I wasn't the only one asking this question: Where is the Love?
(Lyrics below-- check them out, they are important)

What's wrong with the world, mama
People livin' like they ain't got no mamas
I think the whole world addicted to the drama
Only attracted to things that'll bring you trauma
Overseas, yeah, we try to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin'
In the USA, the big CIA
The Blood from The Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate, yeah
Madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates
Now, you gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love, y'all, y'all

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt can you hear them cryin'?
Can you practice what you preach?
And would you turn the other cheek?

Father, Father, Father help us
Send us some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love? (Love)

Where is the love? (The love)
Where is the love? (The love)
Where is the love?
The love, the love

It just ain't the same, always unchanged
New days are strange, is the world insane?
If love and peace is so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations droppin' bombs
Chemical gasses fillin' lungs of little ones
With the ongoin' sufferin' as the youth die young
So ask yourself is the lovin' really gone
So I can ask myself really what is goin' wrong
In this world that we livin' in people keep on givin'
in
Makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends
Not respectin' each other, deny thy brother
A war is goin' on but the reason's undercover
The truth is kept secret, it's swept under the rug
If you never know truth then you never know love
Where's the love, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the truth, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the love, y'all (come on yeah)

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send us some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (Love)

Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love
The love, the love

I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm gettin' older, y'all, people gets colder
Most of us only care about money makin'
Selfishness got us followin' the wrong direction
Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images, it's the main criteria
Infecting the young minds faster than bacteria
Kids want to act like what they see in the cinema
Yo', whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness and equality
Instead in spreading love we're spreading animosity
Lack of understanding, leading lives away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feelin' down
There's no wonder why sometimes I'm feelin' under
Gotta keep my faith alive till love is found now ask yourself

People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send us some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love (Love)

Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love (The love)
Where is the love
Where is the love

Read more: Black Eyed Peas - Where Is The Love? Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

For The Sake of My Siblings

I have nine brothers and a nephew. That is ten, count them, TEN men that could possibly been seen as a threat and ripped away from my family in the blink of an eye. Well, let me revise that statement: I have 1 Black nephew, 1 Bi-racial brother, 7 Black brothers and 1 White brother. In our family, I can honestly say, that the race of my siblings do NOT matter, ah, but here in America, it matters. Looking at the history of our great nation AND the events of tonight, it is easy for me to see that my youngest brother, my White brother, will not have the same lifetime experiences as the others. The way that they are raised will be the same. The consequences for bad behavior in our house will get you the exact same punishment that has been handed out since I was a kid. My parents haven't changed; what is right and wrong hasn't changed, but somehow, my sweet little brother Jonathan has the possibility of being treated like a HUMAN BEING, while, at some point in their lives, that WILL NOT be afforded to my nephew and my other brothers.

Tonight, America has had the real opportunity to see what the justice system is like. Not a Law And Order episode, but real life. The story of Mike Brown could have taken a real turn towards America actually recognizing that Race Relations are not anywhere close to where we want it to me. It could have given hope to those who had lost it; it could have restored some faith in humanity; it could have been a representation of the justice serving those that can do nothing for her (and that is rare). It could have. But it did not.

Let me be clear, for those of you who don't know-- a grand jury has ONE job, it is to say "hey- this is enough evidence to go to trial." That is it. An indictment does not mean that Darren Wilson would be found guilty or pay the price for shooting a Black child in the street and letting his body fester in the August heat. An indictment does not mean that Michael Brown was completely innocent in this situation. An indictment does not mean that race relations would get better in Ferguson. An indictment would simply mean that the state could move on to TRY Darren Wilson in a courtroom. That is all. So when I see that the grand jury could not even muster an indictment, could not even say that "hey, ONE of these autopsies show something that y'all should discuss at trial", or "hey- there is an UNARMED teenager lying dead in the street and maybe someone should be held responsible for that." The fact that they could not even move on to a trial... you can understand how I would be dismayed. Shocked. Angry. Frustrated. Right?!

This case is not about fairness. It is not about protecting a police officer. It is not about ridding society of a leech. It IS about Blackness in America. It IS about the overreaction of police officers when dealing with Black men. It IS about the awful reality that Black children are far more likely to be killed by police officers than their white counterparts and it IS absolutely about the vast majority of Americans closing their eyes- WILLFULLY- to the suffering of their fellow man. Continuously blaming these victims for their OWN deaths. It IS about Michael Brown, Eric Garner, John Crawford, Ezell Ford, Dante Parker and Tamir Rice. It IS. It IS about my nephew, Justus. My brothers: Jeff, Ronald, Frank, Christopher, Tyron, Les, Joshua, Jackson and Jonathan. My father. My cousins. My neighbors. My city. My state. It IS about entire states showing that they don't give a damn about the lives of more than half of their constituency. It IS about the legal system disregarding the rights of the Black and Brown populations. It IS about an entire system which continues to persecute races unlawfully and without remorse.

It keeps me up at night. It makes me worry. It makes me happy that Lefty and I do not have children that would be subjected to this unkind, unfair and unnecessary treatment. It makes me want to hug my brothers and watch them, wherever they go. I am sad, y'all. The people of Ferguson have been done a huge disservice. The state of Missouri SHOULD be in uproar. Major cities that have large minority populations should be epicenters of (peaceful) protests-- even though they don't deal with US peacefully. The Brown family should sue Darren Wilson, the City of Ferguson, the Police Chief, the Prosecuting Attorney and whoever else they can think of for the wrongful death of their son. As of right now, the legal community that I once wanted to be a part of so badly has let me down...again. And not just me... I have nine brothers and a nephew.

Wednesday Wants

I have had a stressful day. Seriously. I need to relax. How do I relax? I bake. But I am off baking right now... because I am fat. So what am I going to do now? List making. I like to look at all the crap I am not getting done on a daily basis. Hey, what can I say? I have a winning attitude today. It has just a really, really long day. So, here is a list of things that I want on this horrendous lovely Wednesday.

1. I want a job where I am super appreciated and get paid, very well. I mean doesn't everyone? Because, yeah, I got bills to pay, sucka! Plus, I have to say, I really think that I should be the boss. Like, always. And if I can't be the boss then I should be well paid. The end.

2. I want people to live forever. Ok, not assholes, but nice people? Nice people should live forever. We received word that a super nice guy (a co-worker of Lefty's) passed away today. Unexpectedly. And I hate it. Someone who worked at my job passed away last week. He always had a kind word and a smile. I'm saddened by both deaths. Death makes you re-evaluate or it SHOULD make you re-evaluate. It has been two years since we said goodbye to one of my aunts and to Lefty's brother and each time it.is.heartbreaking. This Wednesday I want nice people to live forever.

3. I want a million dollars, the best credit score a person can have and a maid. In that order. It is all necessary.

4. I want to reignite my will to work out. It leaves every other day and for real I just need that bitch to be loyal. What?!

5. I want Cat Knapp to stop staring at me. I just looked over and he is staring at me. He has no shame and no regards for my feelings.

6. I want people, in general, to be a little more concerned for one another's wellbeing. People just don't seem to give a fuck about anyone or anything, other than themselves. I am not saying that I want a utopia. I don't want to be Snow White, singing songs in the forest and having birds land on my shoulders (because ewww, birds) BUT it would be nice if people were a little less self centered/noticed and acknowledged other people's issues and problems/cared about other's suffering.

7. I want it to be November and not have the Hallmark channel playing Christmas movies. They aren't even playing Golden Girls reruns anymore. Who does that? I need to Sophia and her sassy old lady mouth. Plus, it is NOVEMBER. Christmas is over a month away. Are you kidding me?

8. I want more hours to do fun stuff, because today being a grown up sucked balls.

Here is to hoping that tomorrow is full of unicorns and glitter.

Birthday, Love and Honor

Ah hmm, two weeks and a couple of days ago I celebrated a birthday. It wasn't a big one, per se, that is to say that I didn't just turn 21. Or 30 (what?) Or 35... so stop guessing. I really didn't want to do much. I mean, I wanted to hang out with Lefty and my birthday was (finally) on a Saturday, so relaxation and Ohio State Football was at the tippy top of my list. Lefty asked what I wanted to do and I left it up to him.

Originally we were going to go to the Penn State/OSU game. But Happy Valley was not cooperating. We could find tickets (but not sit together) and there was not one freaking hotel room available. I was not going to see a night game in PA and drive back to OH to sleep, no thanks. So I decided that maybe we should head on down to the most beautiful campus in all of colleges, my alma mater, Miami University. They had an afternoon football game (which I was not feeling that great about... our record is a little... lacking) and I knew that we would be done watching them play in time for the Buckeye game. Again, I left the details up to Lefty and waited for the weekend!

I had NO worries. I took Friday, the following Monday and Tuesday off work because HEY, It's my birthday!! And I didn't have to plan a hotel stay or anything like that. It was magical. So magical that I didn't even trip out when Lefty told me that we were staying in Indiana. I mean I raised my eyebrow, but I didn't say anything. Well, let me just say-- IT WAS AMAZING. Lefty found the CUTEST Bed & Breakfast just over the state border. While we did laugh about the fact that while driving you could totally tell when you crossed the state line back into Ohio because the roads improved (significantly) that drive was totally worth it. It was about 15 miles from the B&B to Oxford, so the drive was an easy one. More information on the inn can be found here... We stayed in the East Fork Room. Let me just say, if you get a chance to stay here, do it. The owner is amazing, the remodel done on the house is flawless and the small town feel is just what the doctor ordered for me. We will be back, for sure. Loved it.

The football game was second only to the lovely weather we had. It was family weekend in Oxford, so the college kids were more or less on their best behavior, saving me from wanting to slap the hell out of smart ass college kids. Win/win situation :) Our team won! Second win of the season and I was there to witness it... on my birthday! Amazing! We had hours to burn so we decided to head back to Brookville and do something daring. Something that we had never done before. Something I more than likely will never do again. But, start the new year of life off with a bang, right? We went back to BFE... and zip lined. In the DARK. What?!?! Listen, I'm no sissy with most things, but honey... no. Just no. I didn't do too bad, going down the MOUNTAIN that we were on, however, getting from the platform to the ground, was NOT one of my finer moments. I am okay with it.Without going into great detail about my possible *screaming* for the stairs to be brought to me, I will just say that the people at Skyward Adventures will not forget me anytime soon. And I am ok with that too.

It took me two weeks to recover, but I started off my new year with a bang! I wish every birthday started with a new (and sometimes exciting) adventure. What do y'all do for your birthdays? Anything as shocking as zip lining in the dark? Here are some pics of our weekend trip!

Love and Honor

Historic Black's Covered Bridge in Oxford

Getting some Vitamin D at the game- What a Beautiful Day!

Lefty practicing in the dark. Zip lining is not for the faint of heart. 

Brookville Lake, Indiana

Soulful Saturday - Cuffing Season

Welcome to November 1st, the official start to the cuffing season. Lefty asked me what "cuffing season" means. I explained with the precision of a college professor. Cuffing Season happens in two separate time periods. For us in the midwest, it starts when the weather takes a turn from fall to winter-like... like today. The first set of dates is November 1 - December 20. Second group of dates is New Year's Eve - February 12/13. See what I did there? No major holiday gifts to be purchased but tons of together time before and after Christmas, then a quick make up so you don't have to spend New Year's Eve alone, but that final break up before Valentine's Day. It is strategic and happens more than you know and more than your closest friends want to admit.

Makes sense though, I mean who wants to spend all of the cold weather months alone? If you spent the cold weather months alone in Ohio, that could actually mean that you would be alone from October to late April. Ain't nobody got time for that. For real. So the season of not that many alone nights is upon us. And the season needs a soundtrack. A good one. Yes.

So here is a soundtrack for your cuffing season. Use it responsibly. (And be responsible during cuffing season. Hot, Black and Bitter does not co-sign cuffing season partners having babies together. It is short term, both parties should know that and y'all should be using condoms. Always. *end rant*)


ForTheNight - Musiq


 Forever Don't Last - Jazmine Sullivan



All The Things Your Man Won't Do - Joe



Turn Off The Lights - Teddy Pendergrass



So Anxious - Ginuwine

A Hot, Black and Bitter Video?

It was never my plan to be a video sensation... and that still hasn't happened! ;) What seems like a million years ago, I went to a blogging conference at Cedar Point. It was not a million years ago, it was in September, but in Hot, Black and Bitter time a month and a half is a million years ago (what do you want from me? I can barely remember what I did yesterday!)

At this conference Lefty and I met a ton of nice people, was able to put names and faces together (which is always a little hard when you 'talk' to people online exclusively) and we were able to get a few tips to make our blogging better. While sitting in a session, I met this cute lady who was talking about sitting down and putting our ideas on video. Say what? I mean, doesn't she know that I am too sassy for face to video communication?! In our session she (Doctor G) told us that we should make a goal for videos, write down how many we want to post per month and make it happen. Again, I am very comfortable with the blog, not so much with the video-- or a camera for that matter. Instead of senior pictures, my mother followed me around school one day and took pictures of me, NO LIE. I am just not all that comfortable with picture taking/video producing.

That being said, I always have smartass responses for any and everything that happens around me. I am very vocal (surprise), very opinionated (surprise again) and just about always right (so says my Lefty, because he loves me). Plus, I made a commitment when I spoke with Doctor G. Since I promised that I would post videos... I made one. For the remainder of the year, I said that I wanted to make ONE video per month (nothing like starting out slow, right? And not for nothing, nothing like waiting till the last freaking minute, HELLO October 31, 11:30 pm!)

My hope is that these limited number of videos will show that I am much more than JUST a smartass keyboard ninja, I am an actual human being and that I am not always bitter... because I am not (about 5% of the time). Without further adieu, a Halloween video-- kinda. LOL