Avin's Day

Addicted

2011-11-16T17:08:00.001-05:00

I’ve been keeping a secret. A huge secret that I hoped no one outside of a few close family members and friends would ever have to know. This secret has taken me three years to come to grips with, but sadly I fear that if I don’t unburden myself that the situation may never get better. The secret, as painful as it is to share could change the lives of so many people around me for the better, and I just refuse to sit in silence as everyone else around me suffers.

Three years ago, I was introduced by a friend (or who I thought was a friend) to a very hush-hush society of individuals. Without getting to far into it, I got hooked on something that I am not proud of. Something that haunts me every single day and makes me feel powerless to stop its hold on me. I know that by telling others I will have more and more trouble obtaining and hiding my addictions but I feel like nothing good can come of my current path. That is why I have taken it upon myself to change and bring this shameful secret out in the open.

I am addicted to Korean Fried Chicken and though you may have never heard of it, its powerful stuff. Korean Fried Chicken is difficult to obtain, and I have driven as far as New York in order to get it. I’ve never told certain people because I fear they will clog my beloved retailers and I will never have the opportunity to get it but now I see that by not speaking up, I could be hurting myself even worse.

As of November 2011 there are zero Korean Fried Chicken spots in the whole of Maryland. This is shameful and appalling, and frankly I am getting really tired of driving out to west hell or Virginia just to get it. It’s a tedious process and gas aint cheap. I was lucky enough to find one in Annendale but let me tell you, that’s a long ass ride and not at all fun. Then I found out they opened one in Fairfax and I vowed to spend my gas and time going there, but it struck me that there is not one single Korean Fried Chicken place in my home state, and while I don’t mind visiting NYC or VA its certainly not convenient. Probably better for my waistline but whatever! I need that Chicken!!!

There are at least 4 franchise options that could be staking their claim in MD but they aren’t. No Bon Chon, no Kyedong, no KyoChon and no UFC (unidentified flying chickens) in my state. Hell, only Bon Chon is outside of NYC and if you knew what I had been through to get that, you would lobby the first Korean you saw to open a stand in my state. Anyway, the reason I am even doing this is because possibly by drumming up enough interest someone will see what a great idea putting on in MD is and fulfill my dreams. I mean, I already know there is an untapped market. Most people love chicken, they love it more when its fried and well I don’t have to tell you how much black folks like chicken. We have dollars people, and frankly I am not giving them to the Colonial or Annie from Popeye’s. A Korean franchisee could be raking in the cash in a central spot like Largo or Greenbelt. Seriously, making a killing. And the thing about KFC is that if you build it they will come. They will believe I promise, because there is nothing else like it and we will keep you laced in the finest for the price of a few plates of chicken, pitchers of beer and cups of pickled dakon.

My issue is this, I would start one myself but (and not to sound racist) but do they even give those franchises to non Asians?? They are all based in South Korea, and I tell you right now I would be hella lost on that business deal. I just know that it would turn a massive profit.

So this is my plea. Please for the love of all that is good and holy someone place a Bon Chon or any of the others in my neck of the woods. I will patronize you like a damn zombie and never leave your side and I will bring all my family, friends and associates to worship at your temple of tasty chicken at the risk of not getting any for myself by flooding your store with believers. Please don’t make me keep driving away from my home I already gave up on Sonic, don’t let me lose faith in you! Sincerely, the KFC devoted from the state of Maryland.

Tears Dry on Their Own

2011-07-25T10:01:00.003-04:00

Sad day in the life of Avin. The world lost a phenominal and troubled talent this weekend. I have been pretty quiet about my feelings on the subject (maybe because it still hasnt sunk in) but the passing of Amy Winehouse has hit me hard. I am trying desperately not to show it. I dont even know why honestly, I mean when did it become okay to hide emotion just because someone was rich and famous? Or worse because they lead a self distructive life? So maybe you arent riddled with addiction, but I bet there are some not so smart things youve engaged in that you are less than proud about and would hate to hear someone say "well, that's what happens when you xyz" about your untimely passing.

Sigh, in plain terms I was a fan. A real fan, who felt the notes she sang, and clung to Back to Black with the shattered pieces of my heart after the worst break up of my life. She got me through it and she built me back with Frank, and she made my heart soar with the B-sides when she filled my space with her rendition of Cupid. I still sing her Mark Ronson single Valerie as often as I can and the day I was blessed to go see her in concert in Philly at The Electric Factory, I new I was witnessing something special. So, yeah this hurts a little.

I wont even get into the path of ruin she was on. Everyone knew it and for months or years to come people will belabor and bludgeon her hard core drug use and alcoholisim. Unless youve ever loved someone struggling with additction then you probably will not understand. Frankly, I dont know what exactly was plagueing her but I hope that her soul is at rest.

Today is officially delcared Amy Winehouse day here and I will sit and mourn with my Amy station on Pandora and put Back to Black on repeat in the car on the way home tonight. How odd that I can listen to her music and when Teena Marie passed all I could think was "too soon, cant do it". I still dont think I have fully listened to a Teena song since that day.

Here is the piece that I wrote on her back in 2007.

"It’s the soundtrack of her life and its messy and complicated, but that’s
what makes it beautiful. Its layered, its heavy and its thought provoking
and downright as blunt as it gets. Its as smoky as any blues bar and so
personal it
reads like a diary. Its just Amy."

Rest in peace Amy, may your Grandma Ava be waiting there for you with free tickets to see Nas.

I'm On One...

2011-07-21T13:50:00.002-04:00

One being a business trip of course. Every year about this time someone thinks its a grand idea to make me criss cross the damn country doing all sorts of work related nonsense. It is what it is people, so I can't fuss about it too much. I just remind myself that their is college to be paid for and overtime to be collected. Thing about the travel is the fact that you typically derail any weight loss plans or progress you've made prior to said trip.

This year was no exception and I found myself in the city of Chicago (Chi-town to some of y'all) and eating my way through a 10 day business trip. Basically, you work 13 hour days, don't get breakfast, barely score lunch and use your entire stipend to fill your belly with whatever is available to you at 8pm. The good news about this is that I had a bonafied Chicago restaurant foodie toting me around from place to place, so to say I ate well would be a huge understatement. This year's restaurant bucket list additions include The Girl and the Goat, where EVERY.DAMN.THING was good. From the home made bread and himachi appetizer to the dessert. Just fantastic. Another great addition was Blackbird and let me tell you I have probably never eaten that much in one sitting in my life. Everything was fantastic. Gruyere Ice cream? Banana Pan Pardue? Lamb bacon? Hawaiian black sea bass? Hell yes!

Okay enough about the food in Chicago. It was long and tiring and it put 5 of the 25 lbs I lost since March back on my behind. We will get to the weight loss thing in a second. So, then I came home and had a 5 day turn around before I flew off to Boston for another 6 days. To even insinuate that I was tired by then was a joke. My attitude started to suffer before I could clear security at O'Hare, so I was not looking forward to being cooped the fuck up with Drunky and a host of other needy folks. I spent most of my time waking up too early, moving tables for some crackhead facilitator, trying not to go to jail and eating. Eating being the most enjoyable. So by this time the size 10 pants I bought to go to Chicago are now extremely snug in Boston.

I am guessing I cleared another 4 to 5 lbs in Boston due to some seriously good eats. Most of which occurred in a little cafe/bar called Geoffrey's. Too much BLT, sweet potato fries, key lime pie, prosecco drinks and Disco Brunch. Oh and there was this thing called a donut muffin that probably caused some sort of irreparable damage to my system and very well could have shaved off years. It really was delicious though, just wrong but delicious. So I got home Tuesday, still in a pretty surly mood. Like seriously I don't really want to talk to anyone and I am not all that interested in being here. I was just nasty as fuck to a dude on the phone who probably didn't deserve it but had his facts mixed up. Don't assume dickhead and don't call here asking what my title is. Needless to say I just need to go the hell home and chill out. Its safer for everyone.

Oh and its 300 damn degrees today, so that isn't helping my disposition either. I am worried about the dogs being home in all this heat this weekend without Daddy and Bud and I am hungry again cause I had to basically start over again on my diet. Lets talk about the diet shall we?

So, I probably didn't mention it here but sometime in April I got the MF'ing flu. Full blown, terrible knock you out with fever and chills, sweating through clothes, barely coherent and miserable flu. Who the fuck gets the flu in April? I mean I had the exact same issue I had last time I got it which is I felt the signs, went to my doctor who told me it was fuckin acid reflux and then I spent the next week half dead with the flu. Seriously, can y'all get your symptoms straight? I know the difference between reflux and the GD flu!

So I spent my conscious hours watching daytime tv which included Dr. Oz and he was talking about the Dukan Diet. Low carb, low fat, high protein. I watched it for as long as I was awake, then I did a little more research once I got better and then I bought the book. Went on it in May in preparation for the graduation and immediately lost 5 lbs in the first 5 days. So it got better and easier as I went along and lost a solid 10lbs in less than a month. I started telling my mom about it and frankly anyone who would listen. This shit works people, no bullshit. So now mom is losing all kinds of weight and despite the heckling she is getting from her sister and friend she is looking real good. Really there is only one week of protein only and then you are on protein and veggies the rest of the time. I figure you can do almost anything for a week, especially if it works but hey y'all go on and keep laughing at my diet I will keep laughing at you trying to zip your pants.

On a whole other note, I have decided to hide my dumb ass ex husband's statuses on FB. The whole family is just crazy and stupid and they spend all their time telling FB about it. I cant have this kind of drama in my life and it reminds me that my son has been 100% better off for not having these loonies in his life for the last 18 years. Get thee some professional help and stay off my damn timeline.

Okay that's it, short and sweet.

Turning Tables

2011-06-22T11:49:00.011-04:00

All kinds of crazy has been happening to my life since I left you and I guess I better catch up. Lets start with the good news, my wonderful son graduated from High School last Tuesday and I didn't cry my eyes out too much. I am proud and happy and just overjoyed for him. Now on to the crazy. You remember that open letter I wrote here for my ex husband? Well, there have been some developments. I think I best just take it back to the beginning and work my way down from there.

Sometime last month I was toiling in fields of this hellish plantation when my little "you've got a friend" request went off. I will cut right to the chase and tell you that it was none other than my ex husband asking to be my friend on FB. I figured that someone told him that I had just posted pictures of his son from the prom. Nosiness in my mind seemed to be the only thing that would warrant such blatant fuckery and line stepping on his part. So after I ranted, smoked half my pack, downed some anti-psychotics and basically melted down like a fuckin crazy person in this bitch, I proceeded to bury myself in work for the remainder of the day to remove myself from it. It was like having the devil look over your shoulder for 6 straight hours. Words cant even begin to describe the level of seething hot anger that was radiating from me. None the less I managed to make it through the day and not lose too much more of my cool, but it was close to being a real situation for me. I saw this as my opportunity to send that damn letter and be done with his absent ass once and for all. So, I sent him a FB message and asked him for his email address, which surprisingly he supplied. I was loaded for bear and ready to lower the boom with that incendiary device of a letter. Finally, I was gonna say my MFing piece about all the years of bullshit.

Now ask yourself if that's really how it went down....Yeah, didn't go that way at all. Somewhere between the plantation and the metro station I had a fit of conscience (which is unfamiliar territory for me considering my "act first think later" mentality) and started thinking about my amazing, wonderful (and completely dying on the inside because he cant reach his fuck of a father) son who wants nothing more than to have his dad see him cross that stage. At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to put my letter on ice and give my son his father's email address. Damn it I hate when I make sense. So before I could start dreaming up more insidious and hateful shit to do, or worse before I could talk myself out of a smart decision I went home and gave him the email address. Then I told him hurry up and get in contact with his dad. I was unhappy but I knew it was right for my son.

So then I told my mother what I did and she told me I had done the right thing. Of course it didn't feel like it. I hate the high road because the path is full of rocks and thorns and the air is thin. That's when my son walked in and told me his father was very excited to come and wouldn't miss it for the world. Before that moment I just felt nauseous, after that moment I was hoping my suicide wouldn't be too much of a clean up. Seriously though, I was not looking forward to being in close quarters with this dude and my folks, and my poor boyfriend (who's 30th birthday was the same day btw) on my son's day of crowning achievement. Now I have to play nice, fan-fuckin-tastic.

Oh but hold on, it doesn't end there. Then, my cell phone buzzed and wouldn't ya know it, there is a text from none other than my fail ass ex husband. He wants to know why when he sends me a friend request I ask for his email. I didn't answer that honestly but I wanted to. I wanted to say that you came this close to getting a letter that would hand you your pathetic ass but nope, I just had a reasonable chat like an adult and that's when he went left and hit me with the apology.

That's right you read it right, this fool, Mr. missing in action sent me a damn apology and a thank you for raising my son. What does that even MEAN???? Seriously, what is that? I mean it was a general sweeping thank you and apology but still. I processed it as "You did an awesome job raising my kid while I was off playing daddy for some other folks, now that he is 18 I am sorry I wasn't there to help but now that there is no money involved I am back". Then, he says to thank my parents for all they did to get our son to this point. I am looking around like I am being punked. Seriously, where is the hidden camera? Just let me know now so I can get the shock over with.

He decides that he should share how he moved out of his marital home with that fat, non cooking sow he married and that he has changed, grown up...found god (stop me when you start to gag or your eyes refuse to roll back down out of your head) and wants to make amends with everyone he has hurt, especially me and his son. So I said, oh okay and then I stopped texting and went the hell home to drink a bottle of wine. I couldn't deal. Prom nearly took me out emotionally the Saturday prior and I had just spent the evening licking envelopes and mailing out graduation announcements all while having a text conversation with the person I possibly hate the most in the entire world while he tells me that he wants to make 13 years of emotional torture and mental pain right.

I came home and I couldn't even get the story out to Erica. I just cried through the whole thing. Blubbered like a damn fool cause I was even more angry than I had been prior to his contact. How dare you want to make it right now, after all the hard work is done. Between sobs and gnashed teeth I said "I could have lived the rest of my life without ever hearing this. I was fine hating him, and now if I don't let him make this right for Billy I am the asshole." So I slept on it. Fitfully mind you. Maybe it was the half gallon of wine I drank to drown out the emotion of the day. Needless to say after that chat I was not looking forward to graduation day. I decided that the text chat (and the friend request) warranted some sort of response. So the next day I wrote him this.

Hall,

Listen I really appreciate the conversation we had last night. Billy
is really excited that you are going to be able to come to his
graduation. He has worked much harder than you know for this moment
and it meant a lot to him to have you there watching him on the
biggest day of his young life. He is super proud of himself and he
should be.

As for the Facebook friendship thing...I don't want you to take this
the wrong way but I don't know if I am really ready for that. I have
spent a whole lot of years being very disappointed in your involvement
in Bill's life, and while I honestly believe that you mean me and him
no harm its tough for me not to still have some anger where you are
concerned. I forgave you a long time ago, but its been hard to forget
so give me some time. I don't hate you, but there is still pain.

What I really want is for you to get to know your son. Really know
him. He is about as cool a person as you could ever know. Smart and
funny and really genuine of heart. Doesn't care about money or titles
or where he falls on the popularity scale and he already has his
career picked out, which btw he is really good at.

You and I can work on this friendship thing. I am not against it.

I will let you know what the deal is with the bus
situation. We will get it worked out.
Tiff

See that? That's me again, on the GD high road. Why in the world would I feel it necessary to respond? My son, that's why, and anything that makes him happy is gonna be what I do. The letter isn't quite as sincere as it looks. I mean, come on who really forgives and forgets? Not me pal, I just threw that last bit in for gramatical color. There were a few more emails. Him explaining, me explaining. You know....hell you don't know cause I don't know. It was just weird.

I figured that the weeks between Prom and that day would be filled with angry tears and enough red wine to float a ship but things were so crazy busy that I just simply didn't have time to commit to any of it emotionally. Sometimes the lord knows what he is doing when he makes you so damn busy you cant see straight. Graduation straight snuck up on me and with it so did that fail ass bus lady's email at 4pm on the Saturday before. Telling me "sorry, I didn't get your seats" which sent me into another emotional fit thinking about what was gonna happen when we had to drive down there. Would I be stuck in a seat between him and my boyfriend? What the hell was going to happen to me on Graduation day? That's when I remembered that I wrangled 4 extra tickets from that fool at the school and because of the bus problem I wasn't able to use one. I managed to get my son's favorite cousin invited and that broke up the seating enough to make us take three cars. Its a damn good thing I am smart.

So the day arrived and I was running around like a damn basket case. I am pretty hard to unspazz once I start, and this day was no exception. I got my son out of the house early and I came back and got dressed and tried not to be unreasonably ill. At this point I am gonna fast forward cause the graduation was a blur. He was very cordial, and really not at all what I expected. The day just flew by. Introductions, driving, parking, running, sitting, snapping photos, leaving the venue, more photos, walking, more driving, more photos, lunch and that was that. He was gone by 3:30 and I dropped the kid at a graduation party. The boyfriend and I went to his dads to finish out his birthday and the evening ended.

I feel like I left something out.....Oh wait yeah the part where we had Bills party Saturday and a check came from the child support office for $600. Could have knocked me the MF over with a feather. I was shocked and I damn near passed out but once I got over the shock I hurried up and put it in the bank. That was Sunday, father's day...and well...I friended him on Facebook and my first official olive branch was a happy father's day post on his wall. Did I say I hate the high road??? I just don't understand myself sometimes. I guess its cause I want all this so badly for my kid. Cause if being understanding and letting this dude make amends will give him even an ounce more happiness then I will do it.

How do I feel about all this honestly? I really don't know. I mean some of those emails we exchanged got weird. Like, there is a real foggy retelling of the past on his part that almost made me flare up but hell just cause I remember 13 years ago like it was yesterday doesn't mean that he does. That and his new found comfort with expressing his feelings sort of vexes me too. At a point I thought he was hitting on me (which I highly doubt now looking at his new GF) no seriously, he said something about touching my hand during the MANDATORY prayer at Kevin's memorial service (yall remember, where I had to babysit his monkey ass) and he said he "felt" something (pause, blink blink). I stopped short of telling him that what he felt was the searing anger lapping at the surface of my composure. That was upsetting for sure, that and he uses the word love very liberally, like shaking on salt, which I find confusing and well...bitch made for a man. Not only that but he is way too chummy with me like the 10 years prior to the split were fodder for good times, jokes and drinks. Um no, you put me through hell homie I haven't forgotten. Last but definitely not least is my utter distaste for his professing to make it up to ME personally. You can go head with that man, I'm good. I don't need to be made up to, I need you to do that with the boy. Do I still hate him? Ehhh fuck me I don't know, but do I think he is the braying ass I pegged him for 3 months ago? Time will reveal. I am willing to see how this goes.

In the end I did send that letter and to his credit he took it for what it was and again apologized and admitted that there was nothing untrue in it. I give him a little credit there. That letter was a motherfucker. Granted, I am not liking having him in my daily consciousness. Its tough watching his every damn move on FB and trust me he posts a whole bloodclot lot. Photos and shit, its ridiculous. Hall checked in here, Hall likes this restaurant, Hall likes this bar, Hall got new tires here, Hall quotes this bible passage (no seriously wtf) Hall is in a relationship with Tina. BTW that makes three T's as relationships. Me, the new exwife and the new girlfriend. Its getting out of hand. I am not gonna tell you how to live your life man but you probably shouldn't get another chick's name tattooed on you. Let me not even go there about the leaving your marital home in February and being in a committed relationship (sans separation agreement and divorce decree) by June. I think this is how some other stuff popped off in June of 98. Let the dust settle, damn.

I would like to add one spiteful note to this post because I dont spout off about the bible in all my emails and FB posts, and I still cuss like a sailor and occasionally drop it low. I think that karma is amazing. This week thanks to FB I had the pleasure of seeing my exhusband post photos of himself and the new girlfriend with his two children by the new exwife. I immediately flashed to that time that my son came home from a week long trip with his daddy and new girlfriend (that's new exwife to you) and announced that he was made to sleep in the bed with them the whole trip. He didn't even know we were splitting up. That crow must be cold and greasy new exwife, and that karma must be hot like fire. You reap what you sew bitch. Good luck covering up that heinous wolf tattoo with Hall's name. Okay now I am done :)

WINNING?

2011-03-04T14:23:00.002-05:00

I wonder if everyone would think the Charlie Sheen thing was so hysterical and full of quotables if he were a black man. I mean mental illness isnt funny to start but what kind of reaction do you think the public would have if this were Denzel? Or Tracy Morgan? Remember when Martin was waving that pistol in traffic a few years ago after smoking some boat? Yeah...exactly.

Would it be funny then, or would he need to be locked up for the safety of society?

Look At Me Now

2011-03-03T14:31:00.002-05:00

Couple of things to report. First, I am tired of traveling all over this TSA laden land of ours. Enough already! I perm, I fly, I perm, I fly. That’s the only reason I know it’s time for my relaxer, cause I have some plane to get on. I know I just said that all this travel afforded me the opportunity to eat like a pig all the damn time but really I am over it.

Next, I got the opportunity to meet my soon to be brother in law’s new girlfriend. Never mind that he is still married to the soon to be ex sister in law that I only formally met once. She seems really nice. Quiet though, which could be an issue in a house full of drinkers and cussers. We will see how that turns out. Oh and while I am at it this meeting reminded me of something. I boost no one’s stock in the “I go hard” department. If you want a hood chick then don’t look this direction. I will do nothing for your street cred or your “keepin it real” points. I am a light skinned, 35 year old woman from the Montgomery County suburbs. It’s clear that is where I am from and I don’t intend at this age to try and toughen my image.

Sure, I am crazy as an escaped mental patient and handy as fuck with a blade. I am coated in tattoos and have very little if any qualms about cussing someone lower than a dog. I drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney but do not get it twisted. Hood, I am not. Go score your Jackie O/Trina/Khia points somewhere else. If you aren’t okay with me looking like that keep on moving down the lane. Good thing my man is not at all troubled by my suburban look. He is aware that under my New York and Company façade I am unstable. It’s a part of my charm.

Next up, I would like to address with growing concern this idiotic sentiment that when something goes wrong in a relationship every woman is either bitter or crazy. I might have always been crazy, but bitter I am not. I think that’s an excuse that soft ass people love to use when they don’t know what else to say. I said what you wanted to, or I called the bullshit I saw. Don’t be upset because I hurt his wittle feelings. Grown men who curl into the fetal position when names hurt them should just go get their nuts removed and women who defend that gump ass behavior should donate their ovaries to them. Stop being scared all your life. Oh and for those of you who thought it was awful that I wrote that letter to that fail ass ex-husband of mine and that somehow I am showing how “bitter” I am. You can eat a dick while you continue let your baby daddies’ walk all over your soft asses. Not me, but thanks for thinking you know my life.

In other news, I have 3 months to buckle down and get this damn weight off me before everyone and their momma wants to take a pic of me and the newly graduated son. I don’t feel like hiding behind him in every photo (which I could do if I really wanted) so I will just slim down. I am certain that the boyfriend will not be excited about his participation in this weight loss journey, but we both pledged to be healthier this year and take off a few of those liquor induced pounds.

Speaking of liquor….You know, when you call me and tell me with a heavy heart that your pancreas up and quit on you after years of abuse please don’t expect sympathy when you call again to tell me that you through a damn fit like a 5 year old and went drinking. Especially after someone told you something you didn’t like. This only serves to remind me that my father is not hardly thinking about growing up and will continue to repeat the same damn behavior time and time again. I called to check on him cause I felt bad for not feeling worse about his predicament. Of course I can never call without hearing a tale of woe. I mean, you did something fucked up and now you are sorry and I am supposed to be shocked? In other news, water is wet. I can’t.

Oh back to the boy. His 18th birthday is Monday and I am very excited for him. Welp that’s it. I don’t really do birthday excitement so “Yay Bill!” I hope you enjoy Maggianos and the movies with your friends. He doesn’t seem all that big on birthday’s either if you ask me. That’s a damn small request for turning 18 LOL. Wait till he sees what you get at 35!
In closing, I hate my fucking job. Goodnight and god bless.

Deuces The Remix....An Open Letter To My Son's Father

2011-02-11T11:16:00.004-05:00

I said I wasn't going to do this, but I didn't realize how strongly I would feel about it until the day came, and now with that day right ahead of me, there is an inescapable pull to say my piece, and this is exactly what I am going to do. I didnt even bother to write it as my alter-ego. This is real life, and this is me at my most sincere.

Dear Hall,

On March 7th, 2011 our child will turn 18. I have some pretty strong feelings about that age and what that milestone really means for him, but more than that, I have spent the last 13 of those 18 year practically silent on the subject of your role as his father. As the day approaches I am filled with questions about his future that I can not answer, like who will he turn out to be, will he continue to be the conscientious and caring young man that he is today, will he find love, and employment, and happiness in a world so filled with obstacles and hate? Furthermore, will the sins of the father color his maturity as he rushes headlong into manhood?

Its been a long time coming, a lot of skinned knees and ear infections, a lot of late nights and early mornings, a bunch of empty pockets and unfulfilled promises, and more than that there has been a lot of absence. Namely you. Our marriage didn't last, and I grant that it wasn't supposed to. I am not the same girl of 12 that embarked on a grown up, interracial relationship with a boy of 13 from a broken and dysfunctional home. I am not the same girl who rebelled against her parents to conceive a child with that boy and attempt marriage at 18. Who I am now, is something far different and far greater. I am a mother in the truest sense of the word. A lot older and wiser but that is who I am. That is what I chose.

I will never understand what made you decide to walk away from your son. I will never comprehend how even if you detested the very sight of me you could just stop giving a damn about him. You spent countless years ducking the child support system and forcing me to run all over town chasing you from state to state for a measly $200 a month. A figure that was never increased, a figure that sometime you paid, when you felt like it or not at all for years at a time. $200, which I always figured was the equivalent of beer and cigarette money, that you couldn't send your only child at the time, to ensure that he was fed or clothed or whatever. It wasn't a lot then, its not a lot now. I wonder how you justify it. I thank god everyday for my parents, that they were so willing to step in and help Billy and I survive and that's what we are talking about. Survival. If you didn't want to be married, that was fine. If you didn't want to have a black wife to explain, that's fine too, but to just up and not give a shit about the child that carries your name's well being? Never, I will never understand it.

Then you went off and married a woman with a child from a previous relationship. As hard as it is to admit, I was unbelievably hurt that you would walk away from a marriage and a child to adopt and support another woman and her kid. I know that some day my Bill will do the math and realize that while you were playing house with another woman he was being shoved aside. I never thought you were a racist, but maybe you were. Maybe it was just too embarrassing to have a little brown child call you daddy. I will never know, but I do know this. I didn't run out an remarry (although I could have) and let some other man raise my kid or have a revolving door of men in and out of his life. I am sure you don't know and don't care how difficult it was for single black mother to date. I am sure it wasn't even in your consciousness how many times I was looked at like a pariah for being young and black with a baby. See they don't ask, and don't care if you were married and your husband walked out on you after 5 years, they say "Aww, look at the statistic" and treat you like your stupid. I put up with the assumptions and the whispers and sometimes the downright blatant and direct discrimination but I was taught a valuable lesson, no man should ever define me and no person's opinion of my circumstances should matter. All that made me stronger for my son.

So now I understand that the marriage you threw us aside for has ended and I cant help wonder what will become of those kids. Will they be treated better, seen more, supported more because they and their mother aren't brown? Will you hug them more, love them more and tell your friends about them even though the marriage crumbled? Will you give them what our son deserved in a father all those years ago?

The list of offences committed against your first born son is shameful and I remember every single one and this list is just the tip of that iceberg. I remember him having to sleep in a bed between you and your new wife before he even knew we were divorcing. I remember him coming home from that trip and looking at the picture of me in my wedding gown and saying "Daddy never should have married mommy". I remember him having to sleep on the cold floor after just having his tonsils out because you were too selfish to give him the bed. I remember him coming home missing clothes, or with dirty clothes, or without his blanket or his stuffed animals because you didn't want him to have them. I remember him coming home from trips feeling like he was an outsider and you wouldn't spend any time with him. I remember how skinny he was and how his bones protruded through his back when he came from visiting one summer because your wife cant cook and he was hungry for a month. I remember you calling me every time you found out some news through the grapevine about my son that would undermine my parenting skills. I remember him having to sleep on your sofa and watch your ever growing brood of "new white" children all summer while your fat wife sat on her non-working ass. I remember the year he came home an told me that you bragged about the support you sent me for him and I had to break down the entire structure for him so that he could see how much that really was and I remember you yelling at him for clogging your toilet and feeling like he couldn't even take a shit in your precious house. What I remember most recent is telling him after he tried and tried to get you on the phone for Christmas, not to worry about it, or you sending me a Facebook message about him not thanking you for his 3 week late Christmas gift, or that you have no idea who his girlfriend Mia is. I remember telling him when the subject of you helping with college came up that he was going to be 18 soon, and that he shouldn't count on any support from you in his endeavors.

What I don't remember is birthday cards or gifts, questions about school, visits, you and him time, consistent support, Christmas presents that "HE" asked for and giving a shit in general. I don't remember any of that happening. Never, none of it. You had time to raise an entirely new family all while ignoring your first born. With the exception of your sisters side of the family, no one even gave a shit that Billy was alive. To this day I don't believe your mother has ever called him on his birthday or Christmas. Through all of that I never kept him from you. I never stopped him from seeing you and I never told him anything disparaging about you. I let him make the choices. I assume for you it was easy to walk away because you knew we would do your job for you.

We did do it. The three of us. Me, mom and dad we raised YOUR son. We filled his belly, and planned his parties, and bought his school lunch and clothes. We gave him warm rooms to sleep in, and toys, video game systems and books and pets. We gave him encouragement and love and scolding when he needed it. We dried his tears and listened to his dreams and took him on trips. We were there for his first day of school, his swim meets and his first broken heart. We gave him freedom, and haircuts and expensive ass tennis shoes, cell phones, suits and pocket money to take his girlfriend to Chipotle. We gave him what you wouldn't. A family. We provided what you couldn't. Love. We did all this not because you were absent, we did it because he was present. I wont list the sacrifices we all made because they honestly don't matter. The double jobs and late nights don't mean a thing. If I had it to do all over again I would do just that, because he means the world to me. The pride I feel for my son could never be tarnished by what you did or didn't do for him in the last 18 years of his life.

So, in conclusion let me say this. I wrote this letter for one reason, and that is to say goodbye. See, no matter how excited you must feel about never having to intermittently cough up $200 for the son you conceived and largely ignored I am quadruple that amount happy for never having to engage in any communication with you again in life. 18 means something different to all of us, and for me it means that the relationship that I made Billy have with you, albeit pitiful and sparse is no longer my responsibility. My son, the one that you chose to neglect, is the sole barer of that responsibility and he will determine from this point on whether or not HE wants to deal with you. On any level. My silence is over. My protection of you in the eyes of my kid has ended. I will not lie to make you seem better. I will not bite my tongue about your shitty parenting, and I will no longer force him to make any attempts at contact with you.

For everything you did to us, for every torturous year of pain and neglect we still made it. Billy and I are walking out of the other side of this tunnel holding hands, mother and son. An unbreakable bond of love and support. We are stronger than we've ever been because of each other, because not only did I guide and show him the way, he showed me too. He gave me the reason to believe in myself and push hard to become who I am. He taught me how to love, and he showed me what the meaning of work ethic is and what the word fight really means. We really are okay. He is, I am, they are. We are all just fine.

In closing, I usually end all of my break up letters with the same phrase and as this is the biggest most important breakup letter I've ever written this will be no exception because I have probably never meant it so much.

Good luck in your endeavors
Tiffany

All I Want Is You

2011-02-07T13:12:00.007-05:00

Or in the case of some women, all they want is anyone who will take them. So, there is this other blog that I read on a daily basis. Of course I am totally a lurker and I never ever comment, but just recently he has has a guest blogger on talking about relationships. She in turn did a fabulous post on the art of the chase called "Who's the Rabbit" which totally spoke to me. Not personally, because for the first time in about 17 years I do not have any relationship issues. Basically, it spoke to me because I have so many female friends who are content to be the rabbit (which isn't a bad thing mind you) but the lazy, whiny, injured and pathetic rabbit. You know, the limpy rabbit that the wolf decides is WAY easier to catch and dismember than the fast moving bunny? Sigh, so many times women have convinced themselves that they have no active role in the chase. So you are pretty, and so you are thin (for now) and you've got all the flyest clothes and shoes that your maxed out little credit card can buy. Gold star for you I guess, but what happened to having any substance and really what happened to not falling into the arms of the first dude you meet every.damn.time.

No one is saying you have to be Ms. Hardcase but please for the love of god stop being the low hanging fruit. I have one friend who is going to marry every man she has ever dealt with. Now, they aren't aware of this fact and most times once they catch wind they get gone fast, but she seriously has NO standards. They can be broke, corrupt, boring, ugly, diseased (sorry but its true) too young, too old, perpetual liars, have no job, no car, no future and she will still take them. Every time its the same scenario, she gets too close too fast, introduces them to her kids (like that has ever stopped a man from leaving) and starts planning the wedding. She is 40 and I would chalk it up to her biological clock but she already has two kids and she has been doing this since she was 22 (I shit you not). Every break up is the end of the world, and every man was the one. Even if he left you stranded three states away and took your bank card and car.

I suggested (stupid me) that perhaps she might want to look within for answers as to why this was happening, and then she got pissed off. Seriously people, I know how much we hate admitting that we have issues, but if you cant honestly look in the mirror and go "you know what, I might have done XYZ or I might need some help with my self esteem" then you are just doomed to repeat the same behavior patterns time and time again. BTW this particular breakup has been going on since September. As usual I am trying to be supportive, but her willingness to curl into the fetal position and die is just astonishing to me. When was that ever okay? Sure, you are hurt and it sucks and maybe you were blindsided by it, but there are ways to handle it. First off, if you really want to wallow in your own self pity, then at least do it right. Get on the couch, get fatty foods, cry your weekend away and on Monday morning get your ass out the bed and paint on whatever smile is gonna march your ass through it, and keep moving. Seriously, if you have time to let this consume your whole life then you need more to do. I am blindsided when its time to go get my brows waxed again. That's how busy my life is. Crying for weeks and months? In who's world?

Also, if you aren't going to do anything about the fact that you've chosen to be pathetic and broken (and lets be honest, you chose that) then do not be shocked when things don't change. Don't be angry when you are still sitting up crying cause you still answer his calls and he decided to use you as a punching bag. Seriously, don't do that. It makes you look completely insane. Furthermore, I cant figure out why you would want anyone to know that they have broken you like that. I got my shit rocked at a fitness class one time and wouldn't let the instructor see me limp away I'll be damned if I ever let some man think he broke me. When did it become okay to show the world you are beaten? Even if you gotta fake it till you make it that's way better than letting life (or some dumb ass man) kick you when you are down.

I use her as the example but really a lot of them are the same. I have friends who turn a blind eye to blatant disrespectful fuckery and cheating. I have friends who go back to the same abusive asshole time and time again. I have friends who think if they are subserviant enough that a man will value them. I have friends who nod and smile and agree with any and everything a man has to say and I have friends who are just like the Perils of Pauline. Always tied to the railroad tracks waiting to be rescued. God forbid I suggest to any of them that they pick themselves up and march forward. You would think I asked them to kill a puppy! Its like the idea of being responsible for ones own misery is an affront to their femininity. Ladies I promise you can still be cute and strong. You can still care about yourself and how people treat you and wear a dress. The two are not mutually exclusive.

I know that I have probably mentioned it before but perhaps the reason I am not doing any and everything I can to please a man is because I was already married. I already have a child. I already know that none of these things changes a damn thing if you are already damaged. You just spend your time damaging your kid or ruining a marriage. Without the incessant tick of a biological clock, I am free to care about one thing. ME and I do care. There is no man I would ever put above my own safety or mental health. There is no prize large enough to make me blindly follow somone who clearly doesnt have my best interest at heart. Sorry, but my mother taught me better than that. It stinks of desperation. Oh and women if you think a man cant smell this type of desperation, fear and self pity all over you, you are sadly mistaken. You are nothing but prey. Easy pickins to be later discarded. It hangs on you like a cheap coat and its not at all attractive. They see you cowering over every little thing, they see your daring but desperate outfit, they know you shouldn't be your age in the damn club looking for a relationship, and they know damn sure well that you shouldn't have bought that lie they just told or that coat they are wearing either. Just have some pride about yourselves. They are hungry, and you are gonna get ate.

Here we go again...

2011-01-31T12:57:00.008-05:00

So I know that for the last year and a half I have been gaining weight like its my full time occupation. Some if it is the whole being in a relationship thing but a large part of the problem is my love for red wine. Think about it, you get home from a hard day at work and settle into whatever program is entertaining and what could be better than a lush and full-bodied bottle I mean glass of ruby red wine?

Flavors of dark berries chocolate, espresso and black pepper accompany heavenly aromas. Seriously, who could not love this?? So, my greatest love is also my biggest downfall and the reason I am rocking this roll around my middle. Nothing says pack on the pounds like 500 empty calories and 4.7 grams of carbohydrates right before bed. Anyway, I am back to dieting again which is now more like the cousin I go visit in the fall and the spring. Familiar yet annoying.

This diet thing always makes me so damn hungry, and it looks like every time I restrict what I eat I find new and exciting restaurants to try out. So, this year I decided that I am going to create a 2011 Restaurant Bucket List if you will. Filled with cant miss restaurants and chefs. Last year is going to be pretty damn hard to top honestly. I managed to eat at some great places all over the country. Here are just a few of the highlights.

Art & Soul - Washington, DC - Chef Art Smith crushes the oyster hoecakes and Maryland style fried chicken.

Upperline - New Orleans, LA - Foie gras appetizer and Honey Pecan bread pudding with Toffee sauce.

Dante's Kitchen - New Orleans, LA - Shrimp and Grits. No seriously.

Cafe Lurcat - Minneapolis, MN - Miso glazed Sea Bass

Bar La Grasa - Minneapolis, MN - Soft eggs and Lobster bruchetta with truffle oil and authentic fresh carbonara.

Boudreaux - San Antonio, TX - Duck 3 ways and table made guac!

Biga on the Banks - San Antonio, TX - Tempura gulf shrimp with chili-lime noodles, watermelon, peanuts and mint. Oh and the sauteed mushrooms!

Zinc - San Antonio, TX - Truffled Parmesan fries and amazing wine selection.

1500 Degrees - Miami, FL - EVERY.DAMN.THING the Porkbelly tacos and duck fat fries. Oh and I got to meet the chef so I am particularly partial to this place.

I've been to plenty of other places too, but these are the standouts. I mean unbelievable meals that wont soon be surpassed or forgotten. This years list will have a lot to do with location availability but I am going to try my damnedest. So far I know that I will be in Chicago, Boston and San Diego this year so that will determine quite a bit of what I get the opportunity to sample. Also, there are a few restaurants here at home that I am dying to try out. I just never get the opportunity. Oh yeah, and I am supposed to be dieting. Only I could start a post about dieting and end it with copious amounts of food. This is going to be a long year.

I'll Be Home for Christmas

2010-12-20T14:18:00.009-05:00

Yesterday I witnessed (albeit by playback) a bonafied Christmas Miracle. The Eagles, my Eagles (you're not the boss of me) pulled off the win of the mothergrabbin century yesterday evening.

It was in the final moments of the game (that no network on the east coast saw fit to televise, which held the coveted top seat of the NFC East, that I spent the better part of yelling at my ESPN ScoreCenter app on my phone) when DeSean Jackson's 65 yard punt return put the Eagles at 10-4 and gave them the coveted big piece of chicken at the head of the NFC East table.

What can I say? It was the comeback story of the year. I just wish that I could have actually seen the damn game instead of watching the Colts and Jaguars. I ought to march down to FOX and kick the fuck out of whoever decided this lineup. Why in the world would you decide not to play a game that important on network TV on the east coast? I almost had a coronary cause of you whomever you are.

I do have a question though. Who was the idiot who kicked off to DeSean Jackson? No seriously, who said to themselves "I'm going to kick it to the fastest little boy in the NFL. Oh wait I know who it was, it was you.

This genius laying spread eagle *snicker* is Matt Dodge. His super smart coach Tom Coughlin had instructed him to kick the ball out of bounds. That worked well. I am sure there was a meeting shortly after that game.

So speaking of my team, lets talk about them shall we? I'm going to start with Vick, who for all intents and purposes has been doing really great things with his time in Philly. I think he just needed to have the opportunity to try. In the lead for Pro Bowl votes, putting up crazy numbers passing and scoring and not to mention he has been unwilling to complain or cry about some of those decidedly fucked up plays that have caused him certain or possible injury. BTW, we can get into the debate about whether or not you think that he has the same protection a Manning, Brady or even Rivers has out there another time. I know where I stand on it but that's neither here nor there.

So, I know what you are going to say. "But Avin he killed dogs" and I will say yes, I agree with you on that proven fact. Then you will say "but there is no way that we should allow him to live or breath after spending two years in the pen and basically making no money in the NFL for this and the next however many seasons while he repays his debt." And to that I will say "look, do I approve of what he did? Nope. Do I think that there are some fundamental cultural differences in his upbringing that didn't alert him to this as reprehensible? Yep.

So, I am not excusing it. I am however applauding the fact that he has chosen to own his crimes and do something about them in the face of the public. I haven't seen R. Kelly admit to peeing on 14 year olds or Ben Rothelsberger admit to sexually assaulting teen girls, doesn't stop y'all from coppin that album or swinging that towel so STFU about Vick. At least he actually seems sorry.

Next up, DeSean. Dear sweet DeSean. My sweet little (and I do mean little) 24 year old prodigy. I am thankful for your presence on the Eagles every Sunday, Monday and Thursday you play. I am filled with team spirit every time I see you run down the field to score and I cheer for your every silly little touchdown celebration.

How.mother.fucking.ever. I feel the need to scold you on a repeated basis for your ignorant ass behavior. When we won last week you sort of irritated me cause you wouldn't let Michael Vick do his after game interview. You were all in the shot like Diddy used to be back in the day (oh wait, he is still all in the shot, never mind) and poor Mike was just trying to answer the questions. Here you are throwin up gang signs in the back acting like a 12 year old. Then you got a chance to talk.

(Long deep exasperated sigh) I said then "he is young, and excited and its okay". So I mention on twitter how happy I am about the win and one of my Eagle fan friends says to me "Yeah, but I don't ever want DeSean to act like that again in life". Being the Stan I am, defended him and proceed to follow his tweets. Partly because I knew how excited he was, and partly because he reminds me of a considerably smaller, less attractive version of my 17 year old son. True story.

Anyway, fast forward to me having to hear from someone on Fox's sports commentator panel announcing the Eagles win. They cut to the game winning touchdown and there is DeSean. Running his little tiny yellow heart out, and the end zone is feet away, and this (breathe Avin) child...this child runs away from the end zone and then back in to win the game.

Two things went through my mind at that moment. Thank you sweet minty Jesus for that win and what would have happened if he dropped that ball or god forbid someone caught up with him in time to tackle his crazy monkey ass?? I think the whole of Philadelphia would have been waiting for his return to dismember him. He says (or they say, or some damn body said) that he did it to run the clock out, but I know showboating when I see it. I didn't make it this far without knowing when you are trying to get your shine on instead of doing what you are supposed to do. So of course I check twitter and he starts sending these tweets after the game that make me want to choke him. Sigh.

I say all this to put out in the air that I need him to grow up quickly. No one is questioning your talent, but you are annoying and you make me want to hurt you. Less talking, less tweeting, less stunting and more catching and running. that's it.

Okay, enough with the football. My mother just informed me that Christmas dinner will include 28 people this year and one very important quasi relative. My stupid ass step-brother. Seriously, why me? What would be the purpose in having him there? Lord I have been patient and kind this year in the face of adversity (and you know who and what I am talking about) so why would you set him up to be cussed out at Christmas time? That just doesn't seem fair to me. Here's wishing for another Christmas miracle that makes him go poof and disappear from my presence on Christmas day. I am just glad my man is coming. He has already been alerted to the fuckery and has been waiting a lengthy period of time to crack someones face for them. I sure hope Step-Conartist stays in his lane. Could be embarrassing.

Happy Holidays!

Bitch are you crazy?

2010-10-24T15:08:00.026-04:00

I've seen some pretty bold things in my day. I've seen all types of people talk slick and attempt to get away with it. I've seen folks pretend they aren't throwing shade when they clearly are and I've seen some pretty blatant attempts at presenting fuckery as genuine however, never in all my years have I heard of something this bold. The honorable (and I use that term as loosley as I do when describing Nikki Minaj as a rapper) Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas wife Virginia "Ginni" Lamp Thomas lost her mind and got real reckless last week. In some misguided folly, Mrs. Thomas decided that 19 years was just too long to sit quiet and picked up her flip phone (come on you know all know that old batch got a jitterbug flip phone) and dialed up Anita Hill.

Write for your audiance Avin. First, I forget that some of yall were still in diapers when this went down. My baby neice who was born in 91 is now almost twenty and has a child and a husband. My son wasnt even thought of, and my boyfriend was 10 (yeah I like em young so what?) so lets take it back.

Back before the black community started referring to Justice Thomas as Uncle Clarence Thomas on a fulltime and regular basis. This crazy negro was chairman of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Anita Hill worked with/for him and spent an inordinate amount of time fending off repeated advances and other acts of workplace fuckery. Some of which were graphic recountings of hardcore pornography, and asking his female coworkers about their breast size. There was also some random ass foolishness about pubic hairs and coke cans. So when the Thomas confirmation hearings began, all of this came to light. Even crazier was the fact that he was presenting himself as some sort of ultra conservative with a lily white wife. He likened it to some sort of high tech lynching. I dont have a clue what was high tech about anything in 1991 with the exception of the Sony Discman but hey, you call it dancing I call it shuffling. Mind you, I was only 15 so even my memory on all this is a little hazy. I was way too interested in De La Soul, herringbone chains and Champion sweatshirts. You want more info, google it.

Now, maybe you are thinking that after all these years Ginni wanted to bury the hatchet and offer Ms. Hill an olive branch. You sadly would be incorrect. Mrs. Thomas in her infinite wisdom made that call for one reason and one reason only. To ask the woman who suffered untold amounts of public humiliation at the hands of her crazy ass husband for an apology. In fact, here is the exact message she left:

“I would love you to consider an apology sometime and some full explanation of why you did what you did with my husband. So give it some thought and certainly pray about this and come to understand why you did what you did. OK, have a good day.”

That sound you just heard was the collective WTF from every black woman in the nation. First, let's talk about the logistics of this here call. Ms. Hill, a professor of social policy, law, and women's studies at Brandeis University received this call on her work voicemail. Now I don't know about you but I can not even fathom someone calling me on my job to solicit a donation much less an apology. This is my damn place of business. If it's not work related you better stay the hell off my phone. Second, the context of this call should have been enough to send Ms. Hill downstairs to her car to remove her jewelry and Vaseline her situation before taking a road trip to beat the brakes off this bold ass bitch. Third, in what alternate universe does Ginni Thomas live in that would suggest to her it would be a grand ass idea to ask the woman her husband sexually harassed for an apology?

Now, to Ms. Hills credit she didn't gather her homegirls and ride on that bitch. No, she simply listened to the message and turned the recording over to the police. Kudos to her for displaying both class and professionalism during what I can only imagine was a very stressful and crazy incident. Had that been me, you, my momma, your momma, Janice down at the post office, Ke-Ke in accounting or Barbara who works the desk at your hairdresser we'd have all been in jail right now or at least the lead story on the 11 o'clock news.

I don't know what would posess this obviously batty old white biddy to lose her mind like this but I sense it might be two things. One, she is attempting to put the spotlight on her new found profession in the Tea-bagger game. Thomas started a nonprofit tea-party affiliated lobbying group, Liberty Central, to organize conservative activists, issue score cards for Congress members, and be involved in elections. The group is aimed at opposing what she has refered to as the leftist "tyranny" of President Obama and Congressional Democrats. Or two she honestly is as fucked up and nutso as her husband. See I do remember her slightly from those hearings. Looking dowdy and brainwashed standing there supporting this husband who clearly wasnt the person she so desperately needed to believe in. She was sad. Look at her little milquetoast dress and tragic little haircut.

It was 91 but theres no excuse. Let me show you some picks of my momma at that time. It wasnt a game.

So, after shaking my head in disbelief over this nonsensical nonsense I discussed this with my man, my mother and my roommate. My man said that it's clear that Mrs. Thomas is some sort of bare-knuckle boxing champ the likes of Cain Velasquez because she would have to know she was the baddest bitch in town to pull a stunt like that on a black woman and not wind up dead. After I stopped laughing I knew that couldnt be it.

My mother simply chalked it up to the hype surrounding her teabag aspirations. She also said that if Uncle Clarence had any sense he was somewhere thunking the shit out of Ginni for boiling this shit back up to the surface. Yes, Clarence we had almost forgot about you up there chillin in the highest court in the land. Well...I had anyway.

My roommate (who is biracial half black and white) said that Mrs. Thomas was "a stupid white bitch" (her words not mine people) and that this shows the type of blind devotion to her man that only a white woman could have. She also added thats the reason she lets black men know up front that her momma is black in case they wanna get it twisted and think they got them a tan Becky to push around.

Truth be told some black men who like white women do so because they like the subservient nature and blind dedication that some of these women bestow upon their men. Is it politically correct to say that? No. Do we all talk about it? Hell yes. Black men have said it time and time again. They are tired of the drama and loud mouths that come with black women and they opt for lighter (pun intended) alternative. The chatter amongst us black women though is that nine times out of ten the black men that prefer white women wouldn't register on our radars anyway so it's no huge loss. I mean look at Clarence. You wouldnt want him and that tidbit only strengthened my belief in Anita Hill's story. She was young and attractive then, and though not young anymore she is still pretty fly.

Thomas on the other hand. Well just look at him.

No wonder you had to sexually harrass someone.
In any event, what do you think caused Virginia Thomas to take leave of her senses and call Anita Hill? I personally feel like its two fold. Part tea-bag crap and part heaping helping of salty ass hate. They seem happy dont they....Dear God 2.0 indeed.

Live Fast and Die Young

2010-10-20T16:21:00.002-04:00

Yeah I know, just go on and give me the "where the fuck you been" look and lets keep it moving. My life is busy. Yes I say that every time I reemerge and peep my head out to type a few lines on this thing. Truth is truth, I am busy. Okay I am not THAT busy but I do have another new job that I am attempting to learn and another boatload of fun responsibilities. The good news is that with the exception of my roommate's funny money situations fucking up the Internet payments nothing should prevent me from getting on here and typing out the equivalent of a hot 16. Or a lukewarm 16 whatever.

Things are good I guess. I mean my job is some craziness but its a damn sight better than that place I was before. I think I may have actually harmed someone there if I had to stay any longer. The boy is a senior now. Still driving me insane, still doing dumb shit but now he does dumb shit with a beard. He is lazy as shit and I spend more time fussing at him about doing things than he actually spends doing the thing I fuss at him about. He is still a good kid though, he is just a boy. I expect this kind of behavior out of boys at this age.

Who knew back when everyone was looking down on me for being an unwed teen mother that my son might actually grow up and graduate from high school with college aspirations? Oh and fuck every last one of you who talked shit about me or acted like my IQ went down for having a baby at 17. I still see some of you bitches around town and I hope you enjoy being fat...again fuck you.

That said, I have a new roommate. No more FAC. Now I have FAH= Fail Ass Homegirl. There are too many things I want to say about that but I just cant get myself worked up on that level right now. I am putting her ass out next year and unless I gave birth to you, purchased you or married you there wont be anyone else living with me ever again. I am not stable and I cant take it. People talking to me in the morning, suggesting shit, moving things, not paying for shit. Too much uh uh nope cant do it.

So you know there is a man lol. I haven't had much success talking about men on this thing so I wont. He is wonderful that's all Imma say, and I love his dog. They both make me very happy and keep me from going to jail. Its nice.

Other than that you know the drill. Dieting as usual (I am beginning to think that's all you do after 30) paying bills, and making observations about the world around me. We have to talk about football this season and my exit from that place of employment. We MUST talk about some of my favorite shows like DWTS and Glee as well as Hawaii 5-0 and this season's Ultimate Fighter. We need to discuss some of the garbage that's hit the airwaves since I disappeared and some of the good stuff and great concerts Ive been to this year. We also have to talk about the serious stuff too like politics, race and parenting.

But mostly, we just have to talk and not run 100 miles an hour. No more living fast and dying young lol.

They say we can't be livin' like this for the rest of our lives
Well, we gon' be livin' like this for the rest of tonight
And you know they gon' be bangin' this shit for rest of our lives
So live fast and die young, live fast and die young, live fast and die young

Run This Town

2009-09-04T20:22:00.003-04:00

So my whirlwind vacation is coming to a close and I am sitting here typing from the freezing cold Las Vegas airport. I'm the only one remotely awake since we opted not to go to sleep the last night of the trip. Probably not the brightest idea but hey sue me. Las Vegas has been a blast, even though it got off to a semi rocky start.

In all the years I've been traveling never have I had my luggage broken, but that's just what happened in this case. My favorite piece of luggage got it's handle busted the fuck up somewhere between DC and NV. Of course I complained but honestly I was just happy and surprised that the bitch made it. My damn tags were missing and it was limping along on it's back like a flipped turtle on the carousel. Sure it hasn't made my life the least bit easy but it's minor in the grand scheme.

Speaking of uneasy, I have determined that Vegas only has two settings. Hell and winter. Everywhere you go you are either cooking or freezing. There is no happy medium. I am going to knock the wind out of the next person that calls this shit a dry heat. You know what else has a dry heat? Your oven on 450. I bet you aren't interested in posting up in that bitch neither so can it with the crap.

Not only that but there is an abundance of extra type ignorance in thus town. No not the obvious ignorance and debauchery that usually occurs in this town but the bumpkin type hayseed-esque, what's a crosswalk, walmart dresses are sexy, look paw there's Negros kind of backwoods fuckery. I'm sitting next to some ignorant bitch and her get-er-done husband right now. I just figure that you should we a little savvy when you travel and perhaps don't wear hunters orange.

Anyway, it's one of thoes trips where you spend too much money and stay out way too late and laugh about it the next day. We sorta got off to a slow start due to our arrival time. We didn't manage to do anything that evening but we more than made up for that.

Honestly this is the first time I've traveled with people who haven't gotten on my last fucking nerve. My girls are the greatest, no bullshit.

So I don't think I had ever been to a club in Vegas before this trip...and this is my 4th trip out here. The club is a really different experiance here. First, you better pick the right one. That's off the break because you could possibly spend a bunch of money in an extra wack club. The club at Tao was one of those buy a table and look pretty clubs where no one talks to each other and no one dances. Sure you are cute but WTF? My assesment of Tao? Great gift shop, awsome completely overpriced food and a tired ass club.

Then there's Prive...now maybe it's the music, or the heavily poured drinks. Shoot it could even be the layout, but that club cranks. Sure we almost had to beat the breaks off a drunken guy chasing Kenya around the club but that wasn't too bad really. There was honest to god dancing. I acted a straight up fool just like i promised. I am making a Vegas club playlist cause it was that live in there.

We had a ball and if every night could have been that night I'd never leave Vegas. Kenya seemed really surprised at our popularity with the international men. Me? Not so much. I fucks with all types of dudes on the regular, so Asian or Arab men checkin for me is not new. Yeah I know I've said I want to move there before so you aren't shocked. It's probably no where close to that much fun if you live there.

Sure I coulda used one more day of tanning. Of course I could have had a few more Patron Margaritas, no, I didn't get to wear all my new outfits and none of us won a dime on the slots but truly and dearly it was a great trip.

My only regrets so far are minimal. The to do list for the next trip looks like this.

1. Bring more money
2. More sushi, less Asian fusion
3. Don't let US Air handle all or part of your trip.
4. Don't book shit with Frontier Airlines.
5. Wear what you want, you'll still be killin the rest of those fail hoes every day.
6. Start making your intentions with fine men known early lol. I mean you Bronson.
7. Start tanning earlier than noon and being hungover is no excuse.
8. Stay a full week at least.
9. Pick the right clubs.
AND
10. If anyone asks you who's gonna run this town tonight just look at your girls and smile.

Wasted

2009-08-19T14:56:00.000-04:00

Rockstar lifestyle might don’t make it indeed. Lemme tell ya what, I
am so over fail dudes and their delusions of grandeur. Everyone can’t
be rich and famous, and most of these guys aren’t even going to come
close. Fail ass cousin falls into this category and runs with a bunch
of other fail dudes who aspire to be more than they can ever hope to
be. FAC thinks he is a professional basketball player, however he has
no contract, no prospects and certainly no money in his pockets. Okay
that might not be true considering he is always mooching off his poor
little girlfriend.

However, this fool is short on my rent this month to the tune of $150
and he still out popping bottles and buying tables and shit. His
friend who can only be described as some sort of phony dreadlock Rasta
thinks he is going to be the next R&B sensation. I guess he hits the
studio between janitorial jobs down at the local high school. The
other little tragic boy thinks that if he memorizes all the stats for
every player in the NBA and NCAA he will be the next Jim Rome or
SportsCenter correspondent…current occupation? Camp counselor. None of
them ever have a pot to piss in and the window they could throw it out
belongs to someone else 99% of the time. Let them tell it they are on
their way to being celebrities.

FAC actually had the nerve to complain that when he was at a club he
couldn’t afford to be at, and the headlining performer took the stage,
he and his entourage were unceremoniously kicked off the stage. First,
who the fuck are you to think that you should be on stage with a real
performer. He doesn’t know you, or ya mans and them. No one cares if a
substitute teacher, a custodial engineer and a camp counselor are
getting put off the stage. In fact, no one would care if yall got put
out of the Taco Bell. You and your fail ass buddies are nobodies. End
of story.

So its countdown to Vegas for Tres Yellards aka 3xY or if you will,
them yella bitches. We touchdown in sin city on Wednesday and I don’t
think the city will be the same. I plan to act a straight up asshole
and so to 2 & 3. We are going to cram as much fun into our little trip
as possible. Party, party, party. I of course have been on this
hellish diet where I basically eat air and water and pray that my
bikini doesn’t look like a rubber band stretched over a tire. It’s not
been fun. Not to mention I have considerably cut back on drinking. I
actually went 8 days without a drop of liquor and I was doing pretty
good. Then my momma had a party and that all went to shit. Then my
buddy came over last night and we killed two bottles of red while
chomping on pizza. Uggh I gotta go to the damn gym or something cause
I don’t want to undo all the hard work I have done. I managed to
grease myself into a dress I haven’t worn since Dubya’s first term in
office two weeks ago, and I am not about to go back to wearing tents
now.

So I have my eye on this guy who isn’t new but I guess I just realized
that I like him more than I did before. Okay that’s a fat lie,
actually I have always thought he was attractive, I was just otherwise
entangled in some dumb shit with random dude. Now I am single, and I
am bored out of my mind and I think I just made him a target. I don’t
even know if he is interested, I just know I like what I see. I am
sure I will come to some sort of decision soon, but really I am not
too pressed about it. I am just going to see where it leads me.

Other than the normal bullshit, like work and life things have been
pretty cool. The searing hunger seems to be keeping my mind off of
petty bullshit and the lack of available ass. See, diets do work. I am sure I will have some sort of report upon my return, but who really
knows. I say so little here these days and what happens in Vegas is
supposed to stay there. I can dig it, and my guess is you can too.

Bad Habits

2009-07-24T09:59:00.000-04:00

So I’ve been missing, yes I know missing in action for what I think is close to 6 months. I’ve been busy, and not the good kind. I’ve mostly been working like a fool and attempting to make it “okay” that 70 hours of my week is spent selling furniture or playing contract apprentice. It’s a lot. I rarely see my kid anymore, not that he is upset about that. He is 16 so truthfully, he isn’t checking for me all that frequently.

Dating….whooooo yeah that’s a nonexistent thing. Sure I could be dating in between jobs or driving all over the state but why give up a few precious hours of sleep just so I can be irritated and or disappointed?? I just keep waiting for something to give or someone decent to stroll into my life. Right now I am just having a hard go of it and trying to make better decisions. I’ve recently made some poor ones and some really smart ones too. I just wish they were all consistently smart. I think I am going in the correct direction though.

Last month I went to my girl Justine’s wedding out in some waterfront town. Gorgeous venue, beautiful ceremony… strange ass wedding though. I took the kid cause I didn’t want to invite the dude that I just fired. Men are always so weird about weddings and I am sure he would have been a total wet blanket. That and the guy who was the best man at my wedding now seems to have the hots for me (15 years later) and could have made the whole scene awkward. Not that it wasn’t already awkward by any means. It was fun but it was strange and though I expect a certain amount of fuckery when dealing with my girl Justine, this just went above and beyond.

First there was my kid having a hypoglycemic attack and kneeling in the grass in his $200 suit trying to get right. Then there was the best man debacle. He doesn’t drink but chose that night to do so. Oh that and he kept touching me. Very weird. There was the odd tribute to my friend that died. The couple who was married, who isn’t married, who are getting married again that showed up. Oh and the random appearance by some girl I just pretended not to know. I can’t even get into all the other hinky things but take my word for it, it was weird.

I lost weight to get into this amazing dress which looked great. I say this after going carb free for two weeks. I am finishing up some McDonald’s right now. I was starving. I will get back to my grind after this week, right now I am just hungry as a beast and I work too many hours to pretend like a salad is going to cut it. I have less than a month before I jet off to Las Vegas with Tres Yellards and I know that all of August will be filled with carb free days nights and weekends as I attempt to whittle my body into the tiniest of outfits. I plan to act a straight asshole.

It’s weird that when I finally take a second to update all I can think about is all the things I want to say but cant. I don’t expect that anyone ever reads this thing again, but I really just don’t know anymore. I feel like spilling my guts and telling everything that plagues me from the dude I just dropped to the stress with my father to the fact that I think I am starting to have anxiety attacks again, but all those details down on paper don’t really solve shit. They don’t help me to feel any better and they don’t change a damn thing. I still feel heartbroken, I still feel irritated and I am still way too damn busy to get into any of it. All I want out of life right now is one day off from both jobs where I can throw on a pretty sundress and spend it sipping Margarita’s.

What I do want to mention is that Facebook is the devil. I know I said that about 4 years ago in regard to MySpace but let me tell you this FB stuff is much worse. It all seemed like good clean fun at first. See a few folks updates that you haven’t seen since 93. Catch up with people you were buddies with back in the day and such, but then it took a very dire turn. See I realized that the recently fired dude is on FB and his page is unlocked and well you know my penchant for googling folks, so of course I checked out his page. That turned into a tool to match his whereabouts with his lame ass excuses. On the real, FB is what got him canned. If you stand me up and you don’t call me all the next day to qualify your egregious error, and I check your page and all day you’ve been playing Mafia Wars……I know you aren’t dead or in jail. Since those are the only two excuses I accept for a no call no show, then you are instantly fired. Benefits cancelled, no COBRA.

The next incident was when I realized my sorry ex-husband was on FB. I didn’t care at first, but when he started trying to friend everyone I associate with, I started wondering about his motives. Friday he tried to friend E-Money and I know they never had one solitary conversation ever in life. Why so pressed to get in with my people? So I went against my original assertion that I would not post anything remotely personal or retaliatory for a status. I just went on him full tirade style completed by pointing out that friending him was a bitch move.

Then came the blast from the past dude (who I affectionately refer to as Rebel Without a Clue) who showed up chatty as a MF. He perhaps fails harder at life than the guy I just fired and I didn’t even think that was possible. Of course due to his penchant for Evan Williams and his extensive multi-state criminal record he is really into me. You know the jailbirds love me.

Finally, on Friday I had the unadulterated Gaul to look at the new folks who have joined from my class and low and behold there is the one dude I probably have been searching for since 10th grade. Long story very short he was my first boyfriend back in 7th grade. There were make ups and break ups but we never could get it together and trust we never will. I immediately added him as a friend and scanned his page being nosey as hell. Well I learned a few things.

First he is engaged, second he is absolutely gorgeous. We are talking full on amazing looking and now I am hating. Damn it why did I do that??? I feel like I was better off not knowing what happened to him. I am hating so much that I actually changed my profile picture! I am completely consumed with him and his new fiancée….well fuck. Hate in my heart blood in my eyes I haven’t seen this dude since 96 and I have the nerve to hate on his situation and mostly cause I want him for myself.

We chatted a bit over messaging, and he seems super happy. HEY!! I know what you’re thinking was nice, I congratulated him on his new life and fiancé and family and wish all good things to come his way. See, I can be nice even if I am hating and consumed with jealousy. That’s what we call personal growth. So for the last three days I’ve been drowning my hate/sorrow/jealousy in Color Me Badd songs and sitting around reminiscing like an asshole. What is my major issue??? I wish them the best…I am still hating. So in conclusion Facebook is the devil and I need to spend less time on there and more time doing something productive.

Cool

2009-01-03T20:36:00.003-05:00

The new year is bringing some new changes and I think its high time for a ton of them. I was on the phone last night at an ungodly hour with one of my homegirls discussing all the reasons why lots of random folks will be getting pink slips from our lives this year and I started thinking about out completely liberating getting older has turned out to be.

See it used to be I was so totally consumed with maintaining friendships and not pissing anyone off that I was scared to cut folks loose. I think its that whole youth and popularity thing that has most of us twisted up for a while, but as you age you figure out that you are just too busy to put up with bullshit.

I mean its difficult enough trying to keep in contact with people that you like. Its hard enough to convince your friends that you are still a good friend and that you do care about them when you are bogged down with mortgage payments and business meetings and financial issues. Its not like they don't get it cause they are right there with you, but for most of us its damn near impossible not to feel like a jerk cause you missed their birthday, anniversary, promotion. You aren't a bad friend and a complete asshole cause you cant seem to remember to make a phone call to anyone but your damn office.

As for people you don't want to deal with...why the fuck bother? You have limited time and energy and really do you want to spend another minute justifying this friendship when you could just cut it loose? I vote no. I thing the same is true for anyone in your life who is a brain drain or a colossal time waster. Cut them. I mean you don't have to be mean about it. You could go the route I always go which is to cut them back and then slowly phase them out. Sure you can be honest and bold about that shit in some cases (men) but for the rest of them just let them fade to black.

Speaking of men....I have an announcement to make. This is 2009, and if you have not heard from me since before the ball dropped I have some disappointing news. Your contract was not renewed for the new year, consider yourself laid off effective immediately. Please do not attempt to call me, as you will be sent straight to voicemail. If you repeatedly attempt to harass me by any technological means (text, email, incessant phone call type assaults) I may answer...but you will not like it. So far I have asked two male persons to delete my number from their phones. I have asked another to stop contacting me by email and I have outright igged that sorry manipulative former boyfriend to his face on New Years Day. Y'all know who you are. Contract cancelled, Cheers!

People I mean business. I am swabbing the decks in the 09. I am tired of fooling around with loser ass, fail ass people who have nothing to offer me or the world in general. In fact if you have failed at life in general (legal issues, fidelity issues, transportation issues, employment issues, reality issues, borderline psychotic fascinations with lying, jail, history, sports, politics and other things that not only bore the piss out of me but reveal you to be a loser of epic proportions) then do the world a favor. Climb up something high, like a building. Get up a running start and dive the fuck off of it. You are a waste of space and even though other people wont say it, I will. Kill yourself.

Harsh? Sure it is, but its also the truth. Now if you'll excuse me I have some top shelf Bloody Mary's to make to celebrate my 2009.

Cheers!

Santa Baby

2008-12-28T09:41:00.002-05:00

Christmas has come and gone and basically I am no worse for the wear. Had to tighten the belt a little bit but I was still pretty generous with the Christmas gifts I was able to provide. It all goes back to that rule I have about folks fucking with my Christmas Joy. I wont stand for it.

So right before the holiday I was pulling some pretty evil shifts at work, and while I understand they were necessary, they sho nuff kicked my ass. I mean, in the last year I have seen some of my coworkers age tremendously, and I don't want to fall in with that crowd. I already dye my hair and I am not about to spend what little money I have left over each month on botox or whatever else wont make my face droop. I just have to slow my roll a little bit and ease back on my stress levels.

The first thing I could do to scale back my stress would be to go and punch that fat bitch employee of mine in her throat. That evil sorry bitch tests the limits of my patience every day. She is sneaky, she is insubordinate and more than all that, she is just a lazy fat sow who spends half the day cuddled under the left nut of our bitch made project manager, and the other swinging from our customers balls.

As her direct supervisor (which she would argue) I have written her up, and counseled her several times about how she behaves towards her coworkers. I have even had the Program Manager get her straight, but the fact of the matter is, the tiny bit of work she does is not work that anyone else wants to do, so if the customer doesn't mind her cranking out mediocre shitbag work on the daily until March then fine. I'll fire her ass when the task is over.

The other thing I could do to cut down on my stress levels is go back to working out or doing yoga. All I seem to manage to be able to do is drink mass quantities of red wine. In fact most of the gifts I got this year were wine related. Glasses, decanter, opener, wine bible, actual wine.....you know good stuff. I recently went to my favorite liquor store to pick up a few bottles and presents for Christmas, but I guess I left with too many, cause they asked was I gonna drink it all myself. I wanted to say "well not all at once!" but I just said know and started thinking that perhaps I am in there too much. Then they proceed to tell me that they are open Christmas Eve and Christmas Day just in case I forgot anything. Ha ha wise guys, very cute. If I need more wine this week I wont come here thank you. Everyone is a damn critic.

So I did buy these tiny bottles of Ciroc Vodka that were on sale and pass them out to my coworkers. Let me tell you what, those dudes were elated! I never seen such joy from a damn little bottle of liquor in my life. I bought 10, put a red bow on them, and passed them out. Big huge hit. Yay me! Perfect gift that says "hey, I just wanted you to know that during this holiday, I care about they type of vodka you consume, Cheers". Not that I think its right to put any more cash in Diddy's pocket, but its whatever.

As for my Christmas, I didn't get anything I wanted from Santa. I didn't get Autotune, Terrance Howard didn't leave the country and from what I gather is still pretending to be a singer. Worst of all, Common was not wrapped in a bow under my tree when I woke up. Now granted I am not always the nicest lady, but I have been pretty fucking good this year. Though I have threatened, I haven't physically assaulted anyone. I let my sorry ass fuck up cousin stay here and thought he is gone now he broke up my shit and stiffed me on half a month's rent. I cut back on the use of the word fuck to a considerable degree, and what few dudes I deal with I have been mostly nice to them.....sort of. Look I am trying. The very least that I could have gotten was Common, come on Santa work with me here!

Speaking of random ass dudes, I have never felt as disappointed in my options as I am right now. Even worse, these options could be on entirely different sides of the socioeconomic spectrum and still be fail ass losers. I don't know how that happens, but maybe I should be checkin for ugly dudes or something. Seems like the better looking they are, the more shit they got with them. Oh and don't even get me started on the married loser who was sniffing around. People never cease to amaze me.

Last but not least I think I finally have the motivation to get some of this extra weight off. For the longest though, I just didn't give a shit. I mean its very difficult to want to lose weight when more dudes are checking for you than when you were thin. That kind of negative/positive reinforcement is very difficult to argue with. Sure I like being thin, but I also like food too. The other morning after working like a fool, cooking most if not all of Christmas dinner for the entire family and getting next to no sleep, I started thinking about New Year's Eve with Tres Yellards and started flipping out. What the hell am I going to wear!!!! Well I finally mustered the nerve to drag out my dresses and guess what??? They fit! All of them.

I don't know why, cause I am pretty damn big and haven't done a damn thing to fix it, so I will just take it and pray that they still work at the end of the damn week. Tres Yellard's are headed to some restaurant to partake in 6 course tasting menu with sake parings. Then we will hightail it back here to Casa Avin to sip wine, eat little desserts and count down to the New Year. No boys, no clubs, no bullshit. I will leave that shit to the young folks. I don't fuck with clubs anymore (cause I think after you get to a certain age you should have better shit to do with your life) and I damn sure don't have any desire to be hold up with one of the loser brigade. Me and my homegirls got this "fun" thing down to a science.

See you in the 09!

FAIL

2008-10-28T22:24:00.004-04:00

How did I forget about my fail ass cousin!!! OMG I cant believe I left this part out but here goes. My cousin, younger and clearly not as smart as a man should be at 25 is a total and complete blower. By blower I mean he is a damn mess and he has come to live in Casa Avin. Being the nice chick I am, I offer up a room in my house for this dude who I witnessed being born so that he will have some place to stay after being ousted from his main chicks house in VA. somehow someway this fool (a teacher btw) got himself a DWI in a neighboring state and now is not allowed to drive in that particular commonwealth.

Now, he already has a baby by a random chick up in the northern part of the country, and he got said chick pregnant while he was awaiting a lucrative basketball contract overseas. However, he managed to fuck that up and is now substitute teaching in the area. So, last summer the brizzle and the baby come down for a visit while he is living with my mother and while I know he is not still with her, he flips and does the ultimate. He drops the momma and the baby off at the airport, and then picks up this random brizzle and brings her back to my momma's house on the same effing day. I was hot, cause this is not how my family rolls but whatever.

Now I seen random brizzle all over his damn MySpace page looking all extra pressed and whorish all up on the cousin. I don't have shit to do with that really but I find her to be stupid and clearly without class for coming back to a house where the baby momma just left. Just stank. Anyway, fast forward to two weeks ago and Fail ass cousin needs a place to stay. Now I guess I forgot about Random Brizzle #1, but homechick is still around.

Now mind you I never met her until tonight, but I have met PLEANTY of other random brizzles going in and out of my home like its a damn bus station. There is Brizzle #2 who showed up at 5 am for what I can only guess was some hoodrat shit and Brizzle #3 who I only got a glimpse of going out the door. So now I am thinking Brizzle #1 is the main Brizzle cause she is in my goddamn kitchen right the fuck now. Have I mentioned my issues with OCD and not wanting folks to touch my shit? Yeah I am there right now.

So not only has FAC had 3 separate whores in my home, a dude who wont shut the fuck up and broken my dresser drawer but he hasn't paid me my rent, he wont put his damn dishes in the dishwasher and I am ready to throw his bitch ass out.

Oh and my mother says "oh you wont even know that FAC is there, he is never around and really quiet". Another reason why mom needs to be put in a home, and I need my fuckin head examined. Pray for me, cause I think I might have to kill him if he doesn't get an overseas contract soon.

The Green Light

2008-10-28T19:43:00.011-04:00

I shouldn't wait so damn long to update but I swear life just gets in the way. I always think about posting, but when I get home I am just too damn tired, and in a few weeks time things change drastically, but I am ready to go right now so lets see if I can give you the scoop on some of the bigger items going on since my trip to Alabama.

Work work work. I guess work is just fine, things are the same as they ever were which is busy, but that is to be expected I guess. Lets just not talk about it okay, I gotta get up and be there again tomorrow and I ain't pleased.

I did manage to attend the NKOTB concert with my friend Rachel and it was amazing. Yes I know what I said about not being their biggest fan (that would be Rachel) but I did really have a ball being 13 again. There is something so liberating about being able to have fun without a thought as to who might care how silly you look. I screamed at the top of my lungs, I sang all the songs I knew and I actually danced. I got a little static from one of the kids at work but really, who gives a shit. I actually went in the next day and showed my coworker my merch and I even harassed her with the the "Right Stuff" dance most of the day. A good time was had by all. Oh and that last pic is of a 40 year old Jordan Knight. Fellas, please step your game up.

On the home front mom got her knee replaced and seems to be recovering very well. I don't want to speak on that much or else she will call me and I will have to go over there and do some shit for her that my father should be doing. He has been completely useless and I am not particularly surprised, I am just tired as shit.

I have dyed my hair twice in the last 2 months. The first color (though everyone seemed to like it) was some sort of sickly orange pumpkin looking shade that I could not get rid of fast enough. I think going lighter is just a damn mistake at this point. Unless I am willing to fry it with bleach and spend a fortune then I just shouldn't do it. Fail ass fucking color had me pissed for weeks. Then I dyed over it with a very dark brown which I love. I need to get it cut though because I think I am super bored and its not nearly as sophisticated as I would like it to be.

Then there are the things that I cant elaborate on. Like the old friend who has become a new friend that I am attempting to get to know again. Its new and its scary and its old and its familiar and I have no clue what the hell is going on really. I keep telling myself that shit changes, and I've changed and that maybe my friend has changed too but it all feels the same, and that shit makes me nervous. I don't know if I have the energy and its just fuckin complicated. So I think I am just going to pray on it and hope it goes well. Yes me pray, don't act like I don't pray! I might cuss like a sailor, and tell folks to eat a dick on a regular damn basis but that has nothing to do with my personal faith.

I have been fighting to lose what has become an obscene amount of weight that crept up from what I can only assume was the gates of hell or the dunkin donuts (same difference) and applied itself everywhere it could. I have been sporadically going to the gym and trying to work it off, but with mom's needs and the kids troubles in school I haven't had a second to breathe much less run on a treadmill.

The most irritating thing about the weight gain is not the fact that I am a little wider or fuller in the middle, its these new ridiculous chi-chi's that sprang up on my chest! I have never been a super flat girl, but never has my cup runith over. I cant even begin to guess what size these things are, but they are a pain in my ass. I cant sleep on my tummy at night, my shirts all ride the hell up like I am attempting to recreate a music video, one of my bra's actually broke. BROKE people!!!! I went out shopping for new bras and went a size up only to find that those motherfuckers don't fit either. I refuse to believe that I have moved into a D cup in less than a year. That shit is super impossible and can only be described as complete and utter bullshit. Kenya says that losing weight isn't going to make them go away and that I am stuck with them for life, but I think she is just attempting to scare me.

Also, I just got back from NYC, which was fabulous. I actually went up for a day shortly after returning from Alabama to attend a fashion week dinner, but the motherfuckers in my office effectively ruined that shit for me by calling me all damn evening. Not only that but they started calling me again on Monday morning at the crack of dawn which caused me to come all the way back home early and miss out on a bunch of fun type shit.

This time I went to visit my homegirl Heather and partake in a fabulous meal of KFC. No not that kind, I am talking about Korean Fried Chicken. She has been telling Li and I about it for months, but we finally got a chance to get up there and taste it for ourselves and let me tell you it was totally worth the drive. Oh yeah that was the other thing, I drove. Apparently the Acela ain't got shit on me cause I made it from the top of 495 to the Lincoln tunnel in 2 hours and 45 min. I didn't even think I was going that damn fast but folks are saying I broke some sort of land speed record in the Camry. Who knew??

We also attempted to see Stetsasonic (the original hip hop band) at the Knitting Factory that night, but let me tell you what, it did not happen. Sure we saw some wack ass battle rappers and of course we saw Just-Ice and the Jungle Brothers (minus a member) and I think YZ was on stage at one point but no we never did see Stetsasonic. Why do you ask? WELL, turns out the promoter was straight booty, and the show was all over the place. The company was great, there were plenty laughs, there was lots to drink, but there was no Sally. None.

There was however a random ass appearance by Keith Murray who came on the stage with about 45 random ass negroes. He managed to get out two familiar songs, one verse of Special Delivery and The Most Beautifulist Thing all late and wrong but he didn't sing Lifted so at that point I didn't give a shit AND it was like 12:45! Once he got of the stage we just knew Stetsasonic was next but nooo. All of the sudden there were more random fail ass negroes on the stage. That's when we broke the hell out. Heather's friend Steve was pissed, Li and I were tired, Heather was disappointed and we were all hungry. Once our bellies were full we retired to Casa Heather and the next morning we headed back to DC.

We had a ball though, between the bloody mary's, laughing with India, cutting up with Steve, makeup, hair and music convo with Heather, playing with Syd V. and twittering non-stop a good time was had by all. Gotta do that again real soon.

Well that's the best I do this go around.

The Business

2008-08-31T15:27:00.007-04:00

I am so happy to be home from my business trip. Let me tell you that the last place you want to go in August is Alabama..trust me. Sure we got a ton accomplished but between the heat the smell, the briefings and organizing I am whipped. It wouldn't be so bad if that's all I had to do, but the nature of my position requires me to do a whole lot of meeting and greeting. That and a healthy dose of babysitting. Grown ass men are not to be trusted on Tdy period. Twice I was sure we would get kicked out of an establishment or that the comments produced from their mouths would surely offend. Damage control is my life and granted I cause my own share of shit, but I don't advertise and it pretty much flies under the radar.

So my trip started with 3 delays in Atlanta and missing, wet luggage at midnight in a Podunk town in a shitbag airport. It pretty much went downhill from there despite my best efforts. I will however admit to being on a completely dismorphic pms tear that was accelerated by a dumb ass question and resulted in some seriously hatefilled and alcohol feuled text messages which while I am aware were totally spiteful weren't totally off base or that far out of character for me. Ehh whatever I apologized, but I swear some folks got it coming.

I swear I try to be nice, but really other folks make it so damn difficult. In truth, everyone is good with me till they fuck up and do something stupid...and that my friends is something you do not want. I am practically surgical when it comes to anger. It becomes a blind rage that shoots forth with crazy intensity and zero remorse. There is a "god help you" that is automatically applied to a person on the wrong side of my wrath. I'm not unfair, I just have a super low tolerance for anything bullshit related.

This time it started with the question "are you mad at me" recieved on day 4 of 7 after another long ass day playing hostess with the mostest and sitting in boring meetings with several adult children. I was continuing to discuss work with work folks we depend on when this question appeared on my phone. I think I heard myself snap at that point. The match was lit and every one and thing in my wake was not only scorched but charred and cremated. It was sent to elicit a response and it got one. My response? A sustained stream of fucks that later evolved into me telling a co worker to eat a dick. Oh well he had it coming too.

I have yet to figure out why this generation produces such soft, nutless men. I have joked about it on occasion, I have even hinted about it, and sometimes (such as this one) I have called the nutless bitchmade man out to their face.....all to no avail. I don't know that pointing out the problem actually ever solves it. I think for some its another opportunity to pretend they aren't neutered skirt wearing pussies. Gutless, witless grown ass men unable to handle their own lives, families, subordinates, ex-wives, jobs, money and affairs all while letting people punk and push them around laughing at their weakness and crushing them under foot like little sticky pink marshmallow bunnies. I will get into real men and the ability to keep and carry one's own nuts another time, but yes this exactly what sent me in to a fucking tailspin.

So now I am finally home (bought my freedom) as though home doesn't present it's own damn challenges. I am just going to attempt to enjoy my weekend and not cause or entertain anymore shit. I do know two things. 1. Don't chase pavements. Give the hell up and let shit chase you and 2. When in the deep south do not expect straight hair no matter how much product you attempt to use.

Chasing Pavements

2008-07-24T22:15:00.002-04:00

I think my purpose on this planet is to untangle this crazy life of mine day after day. Its either that or I have been put here to document the fuckery. Things are insane and yeah yeah I know you are thinking "damn she always says that" but really there are just no words for the insanity erupting from my situation these days.

I had a shitty run in with the ex recently thanks to my mother who somehow after 32 years in the education field didn't understand my asking her if he was at the house. Of course she says no and I walk dead into an ambush. I don't know why people just don't go away. Its so easy, I mean I go away! Now I got this fucker texting me, trying to nudge his big ass into a window that ain't open. One word: FAIL

I did manage to get a new iPhone, I mean come on y'all knew I was going to get one. After all the drama and stupidity surrounding the loss of the last one, I just couldn't see my life continuing without the new one in my life. I did it the same way I did last time. Ordered it on direct fulfillment and kept it moving. Avin waits in no line.

There is also this work drama unfolding, but if you read this thing you already know I cant talk about it. I mean I would if I could but who the hell knows if someone is monitoring this thing right?

Sleep is forbidden. Diddy is right (damn I hate to admit that) and apparently I cant seem to get any sleep in this piece recently. Its one of those things where I wake up 3 or 4 times a night wondering why the hell I am awake. The other night I actually woke up and thought how nice it was that this was only the second time I woke up as opposed to the third or the fourth. Crazy right? Someone mentioned that I should get up and blog in the middle of the night when I wake up but I cant really see my way to getting out of the bed and firing up the PC to bore the hell out of y'all with my late night ramblings, I mean this is bad enough! Yeah I need to rest, it would probably help.

I think I am going to Alabama for some conference the end of the month and guess what will not be with me? That's right folks my iPhone. I am leaving it safe and sound here at Casa Avin and I am going to make due with the crank powered POS model. Sure I cant do anything with it, but really do I need the type of heartache I endured in June? Me thinks not!

Oh and my mother has gone completely insane. I don't know what happened to her or if this is the onset of senility, but she is completely batshit crazy. She has done and said some amazingly padded room type of shit lately and I am just wondering if my insurance will cover her committal. I love her, don't get me wrong, but she is not right these days and I don't see it getting any better anytime soon.

I think I had more to talk about, but I am just going to continue to chase pavements, sleep and paper.

Its Not My Problem

2008-06-27T14:43:00.002-04:00

The world is filled with folks who feel that nothing is their damn problem. Why is that exactly? I mean sure not everything is your problem, but a good portion of all the bad shit that happens on a daily basis occurs because folks just don't feel like they have any personal responsibility for anything anymore. Take for instance the situation with my niece, time and time again I hear "she isn't your problem" or "are you sure you should get involved" and to that I say "Who the hell else is gonna do it if I don't?" Y'all are the same fuckers who will be bitching about how the world has gone to hell in a damn hand basket cause no one is checking for these teenagers out here. I just get frustrated thinking about how folks not only don't see that being a part of this world doesn't involve living in a bubble and pointing fingers at shit that isn't right. Sometimes damn it you gotta get involved. Cognitive Dissonance is running rampant in America and I refuse to be a part of the problem. I cant change everything, but I will do what I can, and I am deciding to start right here.

I Am Not My Phone.....I think.

2008-06-07T14:35:00.002-04:00

Ive been robbed people! ROBBED, or as the boyfriend so eloquently put it when I told him "someone caught you slippin and you won't ever see that joint again" thanks baby, you sure know how to make a girl feel good.

Sometime Tuesday evening during dinner my iPhone went missing. Just up and grew legs and walked right out of my life. I wasn't too worried at first, as soon as I realized it was absent I called back to the restaurant and asked them to go look for it. Of course it was no where to be found. The guy on the phone said that once the cleaning was done it would probably turn up. I assumed as much and went back to my lumpy ass hotel bed to try to catch a few winks.

So for the first whole day that my beloved iPhone was missing I just decided to be in denial. Someone would be kind enough to turn it in right? Someone somewhere would find it, feel my pain and sadness from losing the one constant in my life. The most counted on and treasured item I own. So I just didn't think about it. This morning I woke up in my lumpy ass hotel bed in a cold sweat. My phone, its out there somewhere, cold alone, and off! Sadness washed over me like I assume soap and water would wash over Jim Jones if he had ever had a bath before. I wanted to throw myself in front of that damn sorry ass trolley that keeps ding, ding, dinging past my window every 3 minutes. Depressed? Yeah you could say that. Dramatic? Well, if you know me then you know full well how I feel about that phone.

I should have guessed that my poor phone wasn't safe here in a city full of cowboys and geeks. I mean its an IT convention! I haven't ever seen a more busted bamma ass group of folks all gathered together in one spot in all my 32 years. So now I sit using this crank powered piece of shit office phone trying not to think about all the things that I could be doing with my iPhone like listening to my Hall & Oates Greatest Hits or sending out funny text messages. I am just disturbed all the way around. So I called AT&T to see what if anything could be done to locate my best friend, and let me just tell you that I should have saved my Verizon minutes.

That motherfucker was so not helpful AT ALL. Then to add insult to injury he tells me that I cant replace my beloved phone because Steve Jobs is unveiling a new version next week, which wont be available for purchase till the end of the month and I will probably have to sell a kidney to get.

How will I Google song lyrics now people??? How can I effectively judge the distance between my condo and the coldstone if I cant map it from the palm of my hand? I wonder if it was that vendor guy we ate dinner with. He was extra shady and seemed a lil too interested in my phone. Call the coroner! There's gonna be alot of slow singin and flower bringin if my iPhone starts ringing. I did tell you that the thing is not on right? Either someone thinks they are slick or they just haven't found a place to hook it up yet. I am waiting on those bastards. Seriously I am starting to think it was that vendor guy. He was WAY too friendly. So people, if you know me, hit me up one mail and give me your contact info again and pray for me, cause I have a 2+hour flight back to civilization tomorrow and I have to do it without the dulcet tones of Mariah, Estelle, Lil John or Steely Dan. I never thought I would quote a child molester but "Heaven I Need A Hug"

There will be updates people....Trust and believe!

Just Another Day in The Life of the GD Boss

2008-05-04T12:11:00.009-04:00

I have sooo much to discuss and I am quite sure I will not remember it all but I will try to catch y'all up in bits and pieces and then anything beyond that I will just come back and fill in later. Its the best I can do, so just work with me here folks.

When last we left Avin she was gushing about her new man and her new job and her new condo and essentially her whole new life, well all of these things still stand true and some other new developments have occurred as well as some general bullshit to rant about cause I can.

The job is still amazing. Somehow I managed to turn into a Project Manager in less than 3 months (go figure) and I am loving it whole heartedly. With the exception of a few gameless nerd type advances I fend off on the daily, the job is both challenging and hilarious. The commute is amazing and well I am just loving life there. I also hear that my old job is on the lay off route, handing out pink slips faster than Lil Wayne can show up on a remix. I would LOVE to tell you that I am shocked, but I feel like that company has been ridin dirty for a minute now, so I will save you from the fake shock and awe. I hear that moral is LOW as a Flo-Rida number one single and they even canceled one of the things that folks looked forward to doing there. It didn't even cost money but hey, way to rally the troops! The general consensus is that I was smart to roll out when I did, and I have to admit that the changes I made to my life last fall have been amazingly good for both body and soul, not to mention paycheck and sanity.

I also managed to have a birthday recently, and it was not eventful which I was very happy about. I don't like a big fuss so I enjoyed just relaxing and eating sushi on my birthday. I also got great presents like wine, jewelry and gift cards so you know I was pleased. The boy also had a birthday, making the gigantic leap to 15 with a head full of impossibly huge curls. He is growing his hair out and has attempted to get braids twice. His curls are rebelling against this but I figure a smaller braid and a little patience will get him where he wants to be. Its great to see him expressing himself despite the crazy looks he is getting from his grandfather.

I don't even know how to put into words this next part for fear of completely jinxing myself but I may be a mom again very soon. NO I am not pregnant. My wonderful amazing and gorgeous niece may have the opportunity to come live with me for her senior year of high school. There are some hoops to jump through and some details to hammer out but she has always been like a daughter, and she and the boy have been best friends since the crib. They are more like siblings than cousins anyway. Just send one up for us okay, cause we love her and I think life would be amazing with her.

On to the rants.....First, I heard some of those nonsensical idiots at my job in the hallway talking loud and wrong about going to Rio. So of course I had to hit them off with the blog post from back in 06. No one talked to me for a straight week. Oh and just to give you an idea of the amount of maturity we are working with here, the only comment that I got after having to confront the primary loud mouth about his thoughts on the post were that I was (and I quote) "A Hater". At that point I realized that a more sensible adult conversation could have been achieved talking with my Yellow Lab and chunked the deuce to the idea of rational thought. I gotta stop talking to children like they get it.

I gotta tell you though, that's twice in a month that I have heard some little children talking about people either being or having haters. I think I am going to pull rank on this one and be the first to put a moratorium on having or being a hater after the age of 30. I am 32 and I do not possess nor do I actively engage in hate. I hate traffic, I hate slow computers and I hate gas prices but I do not "hate" on folks. I am grown, and I have too much to do to be involved in some nonsense like that. You should have more to do with your life at 30 too, but hey I am just going to speak for Avin on this one. I am still waiting for Mike's son's list of "Things adults shouldn't say" to come out. He has been working on it since the fall so it should be pretty comprehensive. I will keep you posted.

So New Kids (and I use the term New and Kids very loosely) are back on the scene and in the words of my friend Rachel she is "Siced like Minute Rice" about their impending tour. I wasn't a New Kids fan back in the day, but I do know enough about them and their music to appreciate what is going on. I love music, and I pretty much would have had to live under a rock not to know their names and songs back then. I am guessing the tickets are going to go for a grip and a clip though. Start selling off those kidney's ladies. I pray you guys don't wind up with a Jon B. experience out of this.

I have to tell you that I was really hoping that the new E=MC2 was going to be the bomb.com and not some old bullshit. She had a tough act to follow after the Emancipation, and though you all know how hard I Stan for her, I was worried as hell that this new album wouldn't be so fabulous. I am really annoyed that people don't get her. Its sad that she had to pull the whole "Intensive Purposes" card with the "Touch My Body" video. By now someone should have figured out that her whole shtick is intentionally comical, but hey I don't expect a whole lot from folks in the way of brain power these days.

Mariah Carey...Oh boy well. First let me start by saying I have had E=MC2 on heavy rotation in the Camry. I love it, but I have to admit that I don't love it as much as the Emancipation. I do have a few cuts that I think are highly workable. That Chick is amazing and I can be caught flying down 495 with the windows down practicing my Mariah-isms. I love the Touch My Body Rick Ross remix as much as I am loving Rick's "The Boss". Cruise Control is cool, I'll Be Lovin U, and Love Story are good cuts. I like how she got up in Tommy Mottola's ass on Side Effects, but I almost wish she had managed to go a little harder. When you put Jeezy on a track you should be prepared to come hard and hold no cut cards. She broke it down, but I wanted her to put foot to ass verbally on that track and it just didn't happen.

Of course the love of my E=MC2 life is "Heat" a track only released on the Japanese version of this album (I wish folks would stop doing that shit) that I accidentally heard on the local Baltimore urban station (that I despise) while doing time on the outer loop at 5pm. I am quick to Google some stuff so before the end of the day I had managed to find the cut and download it and get it on my iPhone. I am nothing if not diligent. Now on to the real business.

What is really hood with this Mariah marries Nick Cannon nonsense???? I am real confused and all I am hoping that this is an Ashton Kucher "Pop Fiction" situation occurring. Even though I have been getting information on the ring, the license and the location. Right now I am just going to put on my Aviators and pretend its not happening. Join me wont you?

Speaking of which, I am very excited about this summer's fashions and beauty, so I am going to cut it out with all the Me Me Me nonsense and carry this discussion over to 99 Products because I have been super missing in action there, but I do my best blogging during the day and I am way too busy during the week and way too tired at night. Sorry, I would say I was gonna do better, but y'all know me.

Oh yeah go see Iron Man! It was off the meter and the kids loved it! Heck I loved it, with the exception of little high voiced Terrence Howard. He always sounds so bitchmade and it drives me insane. I need him to work on getting some base into his voice or getting his nuts to drop or something. Robert Downey Jr. was phenomenal. The stunts, the special effects and the plot was great. So don't wait on it, just go do it. Its worth your money.

I am sure I have forgotten to talk about something. I am sure I will remember right as I either log off or get back in the car to go somewhere but who knows. I know I couldn't possibly be finished talking but I think I am going to give up right now.

Later folks.

Are You Still Down

2008-02-17T17:11:00.006-05:00

Well for those that don’t know, I have always and forever been in serious love with the one and only Jon B. I am one of those people that have all his albums and play them to distraction. I am sure I have written about him on here a time or two, but not recently. That has a lot to do with the fact that he has been pretty much out of the spotlight for the last 5 years. So when I heard on the radio that he was coming to town for a one night engagement I was seriously siced. I emailed all my homegirls and let them know that I had every intention of being up in the place to see Jon B and I hoped that if they loved him like I did that they would join me. Everyone was pretty excited but they had all made other plans for Friday night, which I understood considering I only found out about it Wednesday so it was understandable.

My friend Erica wasn’t busy and was very interested so we got the tickets and planned to meet up Friday night for dinner and drinks and then off to the show. Sounds reasonable right? Well, neither of us had heard of the damn venue. It was some club called Life, and it was not downtown, no....it was on University Blvd. I spent two days trying to mapquest the damn place to no avail. I mean seriously it couldn’t be that hard to find right? Come Friday I had my friend John call up and see what was what. He talked to some dude on the phone who gave us a vague idea of where it was, but not really. John was like "oh and they want $150 for VIP". Now, if this place was even close to where I thought it was there was no reason they should be asking for that kind of money to get into VIP. Let me explain. From what I could gather, this "club" and I use that term very loosely, was situated between a decaying strip mall and Tick Tock Liquors. Tick Tock, for those that are unfamiliar with the metro area, is one of the oldest most run down liquor stores in the county. I remember being grossly underage and still purchasing shit from Tick Tock. No one cared and I am pretty sure that’s still the case. The strip mall hadn’t been popular in at least 25 years, and the only thing I ever remembered purchasing from there were a pair of gigantic gold bamboo earrings with my name in them. It was the 80's so cut me a damn break.

Anyway, we managed to meet up and get cute at my condo. Watch a little TV, get our makeup right, catch up on old times and drink a glass or two of wine. It was turning out to be a pretty decent evening, and so I was hopeful, I mean it’s not everyday you get to see your favorite artist in the flesh.....even if it is in a strip mall. So by the time we had dinner and got on the road we were having fun and ready to enjoy our evening. It was about 9:30 and we see spotlights, you know the kind that they haul in close to a club to get folks attention? Well we pull up and my first clue that something wasn’t quite kosher was the fact that the name on the front was completely different than where we were supposed to be going. I guess they figured that the little banner that was sort of covering the old sign would work. So I look at Erica and say, are you ready for this. She nods and we proceed to the door. It all went downhill from there, and fast. The front door was flanked by three bouncers who checked my ID, my purse and then our internet pass. I couldn’t figure out the layout of the place cause the lobby was so strange, there were two doors. One in, one out and a reception desk where they checked my name off. This dude wearing dark glasses let us in through the left door (have I ever mentioned how much I hate sunglasses in the club?) and we stepped into what can only be described as the most tired, low budget club I have ever seen in life.

There was a bar with one salty ass bartender, a dance floor the size of my living room floor, a stage that had a sofa on it, three round top tables with stools (all full) and three or four bullshit VIP areas. Two faux Ikea couch areas with busted looking chipped ass tables, one gigantic sectional sofa with a velour rope in front of it that looked like it was made from my grandma's old curtains, another VIP with a sofa bench thingy and some of those plastic block tables you get from the drugstore, and three of those booth area things that looked like that’s where they put folks who had more than 4 people in their dinner party. This place was a damn restaurant, and not a very good one at that. The bar itself was made from some sort of plywood and Erica commented on its "craftsmanship" immediately. I was totally blown, but not because the place was the size of a shoebox or that the bartender was salty as fuck. No, I was blown because there was not one effing place to sit down that wasn’t already taken, and the so called VIP areas were clearly falling under my wish factor as in "I wish I fuckin would pay $150 damn dollars to sit on that shit!

We finally got bartender homegirl's attention and got two drinks. Goose and Cranberry and Goose and Tonic. The bitch said $16, and I almost lost my damn vision for a minute. She hadn’t first filled the cup up all the way, and $8 in a shitbag club was not my idea of a good deal. Then we proceeded to stand, and stand, and stand until 10:30 when I finally asked Erica, "okay so do you think he is really coming cause if it were me when they pulled up to this joint I woulda told them fuck no and told the driver to keep going" she laughed but she agreed, between the running collage of photos of party goers with who had to be the owner in every.fucking.shot on the two big screens, and the fact that the place had beams that seemed covered in asbestos, and that if one more person came through the door we were going to be grossly over the fire code I couldn’t figure out how exactly they had managed to pass county code. In retrospect I am not sure that place was up to code at all. So, we passed the time making jokes about the photos, making jokes about the people that came in, and getting increasingly angry about this non-existent concert all while shifting from foot to foot.

So at 11:30, Erica finally went over to the owner who was milling about in the club of course, but not doing a damn thing to get the show started, and asked him when the hell the show was going to start. He told her a half hour, which I thought was bullshit, but I mean maybe that was just the pain in my feet talking. It was clear that we had both wasted perfectly good outfits and shoes in order to come out to this rag tag hell hole. No one in that camp was wearing anything over $30 total, and that is the god’s honest truth. I could have come up in there in my houseshoes and a bathrobe and I woulda fit right in.

The bathrooms, um....well let me tell you what. I didn’t pee, and I needed to go. Erica went to wash her hands but quickly found that she had to share the sink with Randy the Roach. That was it for her, she was ready to go at that point, but now its midnight, and damn it I paid money to see Jon B. We both agreed that we had stood and put up with enough fuckery to leave at this point. We finally went outside for a while, just so we could sit in the damn car, I mean why the fuck don’t you have more chairs? We sat in the car for another half hour and went back inside only to find about 20 angry ass people going at it with the club staff. Of course they all conveniently couldn’t speak English at this point. It was truly about to be some shit in there, and I think the owner finally got the message.

Now, I don’t blame Jon for the niggatry that was running rampant in that camp, I blame that owner, cause if you are pressed to fleece people for $40 at the door and $8 for a half cup of liquor, and $150 just to sit the fuck down, chances are you are probably trying to find a way not to pay your entertainment what was negotiated. Turns out Jon had been there for over an hour, so something was up. No one in their right mind would have wanted to hang out in that camp any extra time unless they had to. Jeanie Jones finally came out in what looked like a still living fur coat and a weave that had seen better days. She finally announced Jon B. at 1:15 am and then she rolled the hell out.

Honestly, I was too irritated to care. I was so fucking blown, and tired and generally over it that it coulda been Barack Obama handing out $100 bills and refunds and I still wouldn’t have gave a shit. I never even got close to the stage and there was plenty of room. I was just to fucking tired of standing. He sounded good, he looked good, but when your feet hurt who really gives a damn. Oh did I mention that these bastards didn’t even bother to remove the empty drink cups from the stage before he came on? I mean, Jon might not be on the top of the charts but seriously, that shit was disrespectful. He fell off but not that hard! Not hard enough to have to dodge empty cups and shit.

So about two songs in I notice two things. One, Jon is sweating like he is on the Amistad and two, is that a damn gold tooth in his mouth???? Seriously, what has the world come to when Jon B. is rocking a damn gold tooth? I am not talking about fronts or a grill or anything, just one damn ridiculous ass gold tooth glinting in the light. Yikes! Then he performed on of his new songs that is supposed to be on his new album that will be released this year. I am not gonna tell you I hated it, but let me tell you this. Its a collaboration with Paul Wall, who may have been the semi-hotness about two years ago, but not so much right now.

This seems to be a recurring thing with Jon though, because everytime he releases and album with collaborations on it, its like they are just behind the popularity curve. Case in point: Babyface on his first album with Someone to Love was great, but that was just about the time Babyface went missing in action for like 5 years. Cool Relax had Tupac on it which was released right after he died. So much in touring or doing a video in support of that. Pleasures You Like had Cuban Link and AZ but that was right as Cuban Link got the boot from Terror Squad and where the hell is AZ? I sincerely doubt he is chillin on Sugar Hill. Last but not least he had Stronger Everyday and I seriously think I am the only person who ever bought that damn CD but it had Tank, Scarface and Beenie Man who weren’t doing jack shit at that time.

My advice to Jon is lose the gold tooth, and get on with T-Pain or Lil Wayne and pronto, cause Paul Wall aint gonna do shit to help you move units. Well after I heard Cool Relax I looked at Erica and we rolled out. It was 2 am and I was beyond tired. It was a disappointing night in a dismal venue with a bunch of people stacked on top of each other who couldn’t sit the fuck down. What a blower. Erica suggested that next time we sit at home and drink our wine and watch VH1 soul, and you know what, I think I will take her up on that offer. I dont know if I am still down Jon, but I'mma need you to pull it together before I make my decision.

Suffocate

2008-01-12T19:39:00.000-05:00

Jesus be a high speed connection! I cant believe I have been MIA for this long. I was dying without being able to access the outside world. Suffocate indeed, more like foot on the throat. If anyone is interested in learning how to live without both home phone and internet access for better than a month, give me a shout. Boy oh boy do I have some stories to share. I know I have been missing in action for ever and a day, but really folks I am alive. Nothing crazy has happened to me, I am not drowning my sorrows in low budget Cabernet, I have just been disconnected from the world for.fucking.ever.

First, Verizon sucks. I have been attempting to procure a damn telephone for my happy little condo since before I last posted. These jackasses attempted to gank me (at 95 bones a piece) to get my phone jacks to work. After I stopped laughing in the rude broads ear, I called Comcast and got phone and internet. As you can see it just got hooked up today, so I was just dying to oh, I don't know...make a call??? Check my damn email! Lets not go there, this is a happy moment. I am back.

Second, my new job is the Sugar Honey Iced Tea! I love it and I love the people I work with. What don't I love you ask? Well being on a military installation has me locked thee fuck down. I cant access shit from work, and we all know I do my best blogging from the office. Now I have to wait till I get home to hit y'all off with the good shit. Oh and btw my shit is classified, so I wont be talking about work much. My stress levels are low now anyway thanks to the career switch and the complaints are few and far between. Shocking right? Yeah I know it truly is an amazing thing.

Third, you know how I was busy crying in my wine and complaining about dudes who constantly disappoint me? Well that shit is O-V-E-R! I don't know how it happened, but I managed to meet the most amazing, gorgeous, funny, smart and loving man I have ever met. He is in the words of my friend Dia "the bomb.com" and that is truth. He is just so responsible, so respectful and my family loves him. He does things like bring me groceries or put together all of the shit in my condo. He took me to meet his family over Christmas and yep, you guessed it they are amazing too. His grandma is so sweet and kind. She held my hand and she invited me to church with them. They fed me and yall know that counts big in my book. I warned them that I was like a stray cat and that by feeding me they may never get rid of me. They all bought me presents that day and I was just so overwhelmed by the generosity and hospitality they showed me. He has a great dad who always has a kind word and a friendly hug for me. His sister is a trip and we have already started the sisterly conspiring against "my man". He is always thinking of me, always bringing me flowers or washing my car or filling up my gas tank just because he thought it was a little low. I keep waiting to wake up from this like its a dream, but everyday he just re-affirms everything that I believe about him. Okay okay enough gushing about him, but seriously I never thought I could be this happy, especially coming from such a dark and painful place over the fall.

So, as I decorate, paint and beautify my new home I just feel so blessed to be in this space at this time. My son is happy and healthy and even though it wasn't under happy circumstances, he got to see his daddy right after Christmas. I got to re-connect with people I haven't seen in more than 15 years a few weeks ago. A very good friend and tortured soul left this world and I was devastated by the loss. It pained me so much because he was truly one of the best people I knew, and it was a shame that this world didn't show him the same love and support that he gave out. That includes that asshat of an ex husband of mine who should have kept his sorry ass home instead of driving all the way up here for the funeral. I put a lot of anger away that day. I set aside years of deep cuts and scars and sat side by side with people who I didn't particularly like but knew that they were feeling the same sense of loss I was feeling. Though no one wanted to speak to my exhusband, I babysat his ass the entire day, it wasn't the time or the place to start up old feuds. That day was about my friend, and that day was about his memory, and his family and how much we all will truly miss him.

So, Kevin Maas wherever you are I am so sorry that you are no longer with us, but I will always keep you in my heart. You were there for me when no one else was, and you loved my son like your own. Your family will always have a place in my heart and I will never forget you. I will always remember that Rockford Fosgate Amps drain batteries and they need their own to run. I will always remember that 4 Soundstream 8's kick harder than any set of 15's, I will always remember that Nemesis "Munchies for your Bass" and "Miami Bass Wars II" might make the back window of your vehicle pop out, and that as MC Breed tells us there truly is "No Future In Yo Frontin". May there be good friends and better systems in your heaven. I love you.

Tell Me When To Go

2007-12-11T19:56:00.000-05:00

Well folks the time has finally come for me to move. I know you are thinking "didn't she buy that place a month ago?" Well, yeah but it really hadn't ever been updated.....ever, like since ground breaking, or inception or Methuselah's first birthday. I am not saying it was unlivable, it just needed some work. Like plumbing, and painting and weather stripping and electrical work. Sure I could have waited till I got in to start this, but really why do that if there is a nice warm bed and a working shower upstairs? Exactly, I am opting to stick it out here until the work is done. I still have a shit ton to accomplish before Friday, but that is neither here nor there. I have to get the electrician in, buy some new overhead lights, a rug for the living room, a new ceiling fan, my garbage disposal running, a few more coats of paint and that's that.

I know I always promise shit like pictures but you know I am not going to do it. I am just trying to get shit together and get my house the way I want. Oh yeah and I decided to be VERY selective about who gets invited over. I am tired of folks treating my house like the damn Greyhound bus terminal. Stopping by is some shit you do to your parents. Don't come through without calling me for real. I am not going to answer the door and I will be bold as hell about that shit. You might see me sitting on the couch watching Project Runway on my Tivo while you ring my brand new doorbell. I am just saying unless you get an invite don't bother. I am trying to make my little old ass home a tranquil and comforting space and you know what that means. Don't make me sing uncle Ruckus song okay?

And yes...my mother has gotten another mover. Don't even go there cause I don't want to discuss it. The alternative is to invite people over to help that I don't want in my damn house. Trust me, I've had offers, but that might mean I have to give you my damn address, and we all know that isn't going to happen. I just want peace and quiet and I may not even have a housewarming come to think of it. People get out of pocket and start bumping into freshly painted walls or breaking up your expensive bar ware. I vote no. Drop a bottle of red wine at the corner and I will send the boy to pick it up. Oh, and can I just give big ups to Home Depot and Lowe's? Y'all know how to work some shit OUT.

Okay, I am going to go drink more wine and call it a night.

Baby All I Want For Christmas Is You

2007-12-02T19:57:00.000-05:00

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas
Is you...

Okay enough channeling Mariah although you guys all know how I Stan for her so don't judge me its the holiday season and (yes again) the bible says not to.

Really I am having a very tough time with getting into the Holiday spirit this year. Sure I am excited about my new place and yes I am ecstatic about my new job but damn it something is just missing. I tried going Christmas shopping this weekend, but I just wound up buying a whole bunch of shit for myself. Anytime my focus is on consoling my soul with shoes, clothes and makeup I am not thinking Christmas. I already know why I am like this and its because for the first time in 4 years I have no one to lavish my festive holiday spirit and gifts on. I am lonely, and I am sad and I don't know how to do Christmas alone. I can say with all certainty and conviction that not having a boyfriend for Christmas BLOWS.

I am not even talking about getting gifts. I am talking about having that loving warm holiday feeling where you sit and drink wine (yes I know wine again) and play music that has nothing to do with Christmas while you decorate a sad ass plastic evergreen with ornaments that are both too expensive and fragile for your Charlie Brown tree. It bothers me how affected I am by this. How could something so small ruin my entire holiday? My shopping list is practically empty, and the things that I have thought of getting for people aren't very creative at all which is so not like me. I haven't heard my favorite Christmas songs on the radio, we haven't decorated shit unless you count applying primer to dark brown trim and I am just blank.

My heart isn't in it and I think that's cause my heart feels like that random stray ornament that fell off the tree in the middle of the night and shattered into a million mirror like pieces. Am I being dramatic? Yeah possibly but damn it I am not happy and we all know what happens when people fuck with my Christmas Joy. I am supposed to be excited and all I can think is that in less than a month Christmas will be here and so will I, with my brand new house and my brand new job, getting tore the fuck down on a liter bottle of cheap Cabernet and probably missing him and obsessing about where he is and what he is doing....Merry Fucking Christmas.

If someone has a better idea of how I can get back my Christmas Joy without an industrial sized bottle of wine and going completely underground let me know, cause right now that's all I have in the way of plans.

The Good Life

2007-11-20T11:30:00.000-05:00

I have that Kanye West song on repeat everywhere. Its on my radio, on my iPhone, its in my head and on my mind every day. What a difference a few months can make. I try not to get myself too bogged down by life most times, but I have to admit that since right before my homegirls wedding life really had me going through it. If you read this thing you have a pretty good idea of what I was trying to handle. I have a real bad habit of thinking that I alone can take on the entire world, be super mom, super girlfriend, super homegirl, super daughter, and super employee all in one. No task too great, no problem too difficult to solve. Well folks, lets just say that I knew something was horribly wrong when people started to avoid my office for fear they might catch me crying....again.

I seriously cried every day, for over a month. Every.single.last.day. It was mostly happening in the office though, which was causing people to peek around the corner to check and see if I was in the middle of creating my own personal river before they came to talk to me. I also gave the hell up on all types of eye makeup. I just cant afford to cry off $22 Dior Show mascara every damn day, I mean its just not cost effective.

Needless to say, my friends were instrumental in getting me to realize what was going on, and that I was just dealing with too much at once. Everyone has a limit, and I had reached mine. So for once, at the constant prodding of my friends and family members, I decided to do the unthinkable and put me first. Gasp! I know I was shocked too, and trust me I fought back, but between the unexplained pains up my whole left side, not being able to eat solid food for almost a month and having severe panic attacks to the point where I was beginning to fear driving, I conceded defeat and just stopped fighting it.

It hasn't been easy, I mean I have had big things on my plate, like my year check up to make sure those pesky pre-cancerous cells hadn't returned. Trying to purchase a condo for me and my son to live in, after staying with my parents for the last year. Trying to manage a super difficult job where things were getting harder and harder to handle and of course, relationship issues on top of it all.

Well, I sit here typing a little wiser, a lot stronger and with the greatest news that I can possibly impart. I am cancer free, I settled on my condo yesterday and best of all I got a new job! A new job that I am so hopeful about. It seems so tailor made for me and I cant wait to hit the ground running. Not only that, but I was so worried that while staying at my current job (which I was told had a lot to do with my inability to eat or sleep) paying for my mortgage would make me pretty much the poorest person alive. Not only will I be able to comfortably pay my mortgage, but there will even be a Christmas for my son this year. This means more to me than you can imagine.

I also started taking Yoga classes to try and get a handle on all this stress. The only issue is that now I am leaving my job and I have to find a new instructor. My gym offers it, but its in the middle of the day and well we all know I cant do that. I will just have to find a way to make time for it because I really think its important.

There are still things that I have to work on, like trying not to take on the world. There are still issues that I feel are unresolved and may never be, but I do know that I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and maybe its only just a little, but that's enough to keep me reaching forward. I really feel like without the help of a few key people these things would still feel so insurmountable, but I am glad to say that Ive been able to get by with a little help from my friends. You know who you are.

Its the good life, better than the life I lived when I thought that I was gonna go crazy. Sing it T-Pain!

Stronger

2007-11-15T11:30:00.000-05:00

Sometimes life will throw you for a loop and its hard to get back on track. What I am going to do is try. I had a very weird dream last night and woke up thinking "This is completely insane, look at yourself" and thats just what I did. I looked at myself long and hard in the mirror this morning. I promised myself that I would do better and that I would feel better.

So on the long rainy ride into work this morning I started thinking about all the things that make me feel better. I got a danish, I got my coffee, I popped in Lil John and I sang along. I plan to have sushi for lunch. I am going to hit the gym after work and I am going to try to get it together once and for all. I am going to spend time with my kid and I am going to let my friends make me laugh. I am going to make a phonecall that needs to be made and try to get back what I've lost.

Tomorrow isnt promised so I am going to live like today is the last day, dance like no one is watching and correct the mistakes I make before they snowball out of control because what doesnt kill me makes me stronger.

Thanks Kanye

Flashing Lights

2007-11-09T20:25:00.000-05:00

You ever feel like you got a sign? Not one of those "This is the Lord talking" type signs. I just mean a little flashing red light. One that indicates.....well trouble. Two days ago I got one of those signs. Its never all that bad if the sign is just something like "I left the iron on" or "damn I forgot to feed the dog this morning". Okay that iron thing could be a problem, but really who hasn't done that?

The problem comes when your flashing light is about a friend. See, for some folks everyone is their friend. You know the type, acquaintances, coworkers, bus drivers, the guy at the gas station, the lady at the nail shop every damn body. I am not one of those people. I select my friends very carefully. Sometimes I haven't chosen well but typically the people I call my friends have been with me a long time. It takes a lot for me to add you to the fold. You have to be kind, honest and giving amongst other things but mostly I have to be able to trust you. Trust is absolutely number one in my book and once its gone it is damn near impossible to regain.

So, what is the payoff for being my friend you ask? Complete and total friendship loyalty. This means that no matter how great or small the problem, task or situation I will be there. I will hold your hand when you are scared, and I will drive to your house in the middle of the night and feed you chocolate if you are sad, or soup if you are sick. I will bail you out either financially or legally (but only on a pay week) and I will come get you from just about anywhere you might be stranded, drunk, depressed or just generally fucked up anytime day or night. I will laugh with you, cry with you, and help you push your kid out into the world.

I will eat with you, celebrate with you and even attempt to lose weight with you if need be. I will remind you how wonderful you are, how pretty you are and that no man worth his salt would ever make you sad. I will stand up for you, lie for you and even help you plot revenge against those who wrong you. You can trust me with your deepest secrets no matter how awful you think they might make you seem, and I will understand when I don't hear from you for weeks or months because you are embarrassed that you've made the wrong decision...again. I will help you write a love letter, a resignation or one of my famous "hit the curb" letters anytime you ask. I will defend you to the end, I will knuckle up for you and I will threaten to hurt, maim or cut others on your behalf. I will also give you the gods honest truth about a situation if you really want me to call it...but only if you ask.

I am serious about friendship and anyone who I call a friend knows these things about me so it hurts me when I realize that someone I call a friend has broken my trust. Someone I thought was a good friend hurt me today. I wont get into the hows or whys but when that little flashing red light went off, I was instantly angry, then I was ashamed and then I was just sad. I was really so disappointed in the person I called my friend but more than that I was disappointed in myself, because I really felt like I had chosen this person wisely, and their actions said otherwise.

I am not too proud to say that I didn't take it well. I felt underestimated, slighted, used, played for a fool and downright betrayed. It sucks and I was reminded by another very good friend that people who care about you don't treat you that way. So, as I sit here, typing this out, trying to make sense of what just happened I wonder if I give too much of myself to those who I call friends. Then I realized that all the things I've listed that I would do for my friends, they would also do for me, and have done for me. Without questioning or judging or thinking less of me. Like today very good friend Tandis brought me tissues when she knew I was too embarrassed to leave my desk with tears streaming down my face.

So thank you, Dia and Tandis for reminding me that I am strong, and that it makes no sense to cry off $22 mascara. Thank you for bringing me tissues, and cake that you knew I wasn't going to eat but that's beside the point. Thank you for quoting Jay-Z and Baby Boy and even Bad Boy's 1 in order to get me to laugh again. Most of all thank you for reminding me that true friendship exists. I love you both oh and please don't get into any trouble cause its not a pay week.

Love Still Good

2007-09-23T20:30:00.000-04:00

Yesterday evening, between glasses of red wine and episodes of Don't Forget The Words, I logged on to my laptop to basically surf the net and try to get my mind off of all the things that plague me. Yes, we are at the plague stage here people. My sanity can be found in a cheap liter sized bottle of Sutter Home Cabernet. Classy

Anyway, I was BS-ing and IM-ing a few friends about various topics of discussion, but the prevailing topic was music. Somehow I have managed to convince myself that no one reads my crazy ramblings but me, which apparently is not the case. I was chatting with a new found friend who apparently reads this borderline tabloid/ case study on psychosis, and I we got on the subject of a previous blog. You know, the one about the guy from Color Me Badd? Yeah I am not going to go there again, but somehow we got around to discussing Chico Debarge.

Chico makes good music, and actually that's an understatement. I instantly fell in love with Love Still Good, which I promptly tried to con The Makeup Girl into giving me when I first met her. She wasn't having any of that though. Seriously I don't know where I was or what my life was like when that album dropped (which is strange for me cause I equate everything with music) but I do remember the video for Iggin Me. It made an impression. Okay not just cause he was half naked in the video but seriously it was one of those songs. I did however note that I had JUST seen Chico in the Trick Daddy video Nan, and that he was fresh off a 5 year bid. Criminal is as criminal does, so I couldn't put too much stock into his sticking around the music scene. How does one disassociate themselves from crime hanging out with the Slip N Slide records camp? No matter, on to the song.

So we discuss a little further what about that song in particular was so wonderful. I don't know if we ever made it to that cause I was off that Cab Sav and not exactly on the straightest path to enlightened discussion, so you know I veered off track. See that song makes me think of Maxwell's "Till The Cops Come Knocking" which of course was my jam for the.longest.time.ever. but I digress, the topic at hand became the state of R&B and how far it seems to have fallen. Frankly I cant listen to my R&B station on Yahoo Radio cause that shit is not what I would classify as R&B. Maybe if it stands for Ridiculous Bullshit then yeah, but not so much what I would classify as Rhythm and or Blues.

I think that there are some folks attempting to bring it back. I mean, I love Robin Thicke and Chrissette Michele and Raheem DeVaughn. I think there is still some soul left in R&B provided it isnt turned into a hybrid of hip-hop and some sort of circus. I know they are trying to pass off Trey Songz, Chris Brown and Lloyd as R&B these days but you'll pardon me if I don't get excited. There is talent there I agree, but not one of them is about to become the next Smokey, Marvin, Luther, or Maxwell. Maybe I am just an old soul which I have been accused of before, or maybe they just don't do it like they used to anymore. None of these new songs have a chance in hell of getting me all hot and bothered.

Music, should have the ability to move you. It should conjure up feelings and emotions not just make you sway back and forth. There are songs that I hear that I will have to change the station in order to keep from crying. There are songs that will make take me instantly back to the moment I heard it. The Spinners "Rubberband Man" - 6 years old in my mother's old Chrysler Lebaron with the burgundy seats. The Manhattan's "Let's Just Kiss and Say Goodbye" - 13 at my best friend Trisha's house, sitting on the floor doing each others hair and singing (Steve Miller Band "The Joker" holds the same memory).

Prince's "Diamond's and Pearls" - Banneker Junior High School Friday night dances, wearing Elizabeth Arden's Red Door and my best pair of Reebok Classics. Guy's "Goodbye Love" or Fredrick's "Gentle" - Myrtle Beach with my Godsister singing to our mixtapes way too loud and wrong for some young girls. Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite "Something Somethin", Donnell Jones "You Know What's Up" and Montell Jordan's "Get It On Tonight" always remind me of dancing at Republic Gardens and Club 2K9. The big one's though are Teena Marie's "Dear Lover" and Anita Baker's "No One In The World" who as a love struck teenager I used to send homemade tapes and lyrics to the boys I liked, only to have them go "What the hell is this song".

Some songs have made me feel vulnerable, beautiful, strong, sexy and like I could be anyone or anything I needed to be. The point is that I really feel like for R&B to be good its gotta stir you in some way. It can't just flow past you like water, its got to grab you and suck you in. That's what I want from my R&B, but I understand that most folks just need to be entertained. I guess that's okay for them, but for me as it stands I want to feel my music, and if I don't then I figure it just doesn't count.

Turn Off That Rap Music!

2007-09-18T14:00:00.000-04:00

I am beginning to wonder about some of these new artists (and I use that term loosely) that have hit the scene recently. Keeping in mind that I do listen to some wholly inappropriate and highly ignorant shit on a regular basis, its bad when I cant justify some of the stuff.

Let me take you back with me a bit. I have no issues with rap most times and there is a lot to be offended by in rap music these days. I just happen to be a music person. Some stuff, I cant listen to cause I think they are just being ignorant for the sake of ignorance. Other stuff I can sort of tune out the stupid shit and appreciate the beats, and lyrical flow, not so much content. Folks will rap about anything these days so lets not pretend like I have a great selection of intellectual content at my disposal. If I want to learn something I will put in Mos Def or Common or Kweli but I am not going to get much out of Pitbull or Lil John even though the shit is mad catchy.

Case in point, I am over to my homegirl Dia's house the other night and we wind up watching the video channel. Dia has somehow managed to out grow the infectious beats and rhymes of ignorant hip-hop. Me? Not so much. I know most if not all of the songs, artists, and lyrics. Its that useless information gene I have. I cant remember that my car payment is due on the first every month but I know that Marc Ronson's video for Amy Winehouse's rendition of "Valerie" that just this moment dropped, opens with a short performance by Wale, a local (DMV) hip-hop/go-go artist who is now doing BIG shit across the pond. By the way, Nike Boots is my shit!

Sorry I got sidetracked for a moment, but let me continue. We are watching the videos and of course here comes Gucci Mane, who...frankly I have no words for. Do I like his new song....well, I like it in terms of how Luda is on the remix, but clearly he has ripped off Rick James for the title and the song has zero content. That and he is the ASHYEST man I have probably ever seen in life. Being untalented is one thing, being ashy, ugly and untalented is quite another. In fact any combination of the three is just bad. Case in point, T-Pain. I havent figured out if he is really talented or not. I know he is good with the "Roger from Zapp" voice synthesizer, but shit do I know if this clown can sing really? Everyone wants his ass on a remix, but Lil Wayne's ass is on every remix known to man too, and I have always felt like his shit was questionable. Catchy? YES, valid.....um I still remember that "Block is Hot" bullshit from his Hot Boyz days. I aint forgot Weezy.

T-Pain even has the audacity to nickname himself Teddy P as in (Penderazdoun) and let me tell you, the way that guy looks he would HAVE to sit on my ass to keep me from escaping. Seriously he frightens me and that's tough to do. Plus he hangs out with R. Kelly, and well...we all know where I am going with this one. Don't even get me started on this cat Plies. What the hell kind of name is that anyway? Nevermind, tangent. Seems like today you only need a good beat and a gimmick in order for folks to rush off to buy your bullshit. I mean, I probably contribute to the problem by entertaining shit like "Walk it Out", "Soulja Boy" and "Duffle Bag Boy" but in all honesty I listen to other stuff too, and I dont buy any of that crap so I would like to believe it balances out. All my iTunes money isn't going into Young Jeezy's pocket but its also not in Jibbs pocket either.

I guess it all depends on what you really like. I wouldn't want someone to come and yank my Rick Ross mix tape away from me because they don't like his flow, and I dare someone to touch my go-go. That might get your block knocked off. I guess I can sort of excuse the other shit. Maybe all T-Pain needs is a bath and someone to snatch that damn synthesizer away. Maybe all Gucci Mane needs is a copy of Hip Hop for dummies and a tub of Crisco. Its all in what you will tolerate, and apparently I have a high tolerance for bullshit music. Something tells me though that one day I am going to look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking.

Unwritten

2007-09-17T12:00:00.000-04:00

This was going to be an entirely different blog about clothing and my inability to locate an appropriate "anything" at the mall this weekend, but I am not going to go there today. My heart isnt in it and why force it. I will save it for another day.

Last night I was on my computer and I was digging through some of my old files looking for my saved documents for the Mortgage guy. I came across a file full of poems and short stories and all sorts of other unfinished creative persuits. I gotta admit it made me very sad. Sure the blog is good for getting things out, but my real feelings are in those files. I used to write every single day, and I wrote about everything even if it was unpleasent, even if it was crazy. I wrote it all down like a photographer takes photos. They are just tiny captured moments, frozen in time. Every feeling associated with them is as fresh and real as the day I put them on paper.

I miss writing, and really it is how I wound up as busy as I am today. People always ask me how I got interested in my current field, and I tell them that I wasnt, I was interested in a job that would afford me the time I needed to write. Thats how I wound up 10 years in the same industry. I dont know that I actually chose it as much as it chose me.

I used to wait tables in a pool hall down from an office building. Folks would always come down at happy hour and get liquored up after a long day at work. Turns out that while I was working one happy hour shift, I got noticed by a woman and her coworker. They were looking for a receptionist and wanted me to interview. At that point in my life I was sort of tired of the server game. The hours were long and the pay sucked, but I did get a whole lot of free alcohol which I thought balenced things out. One day I will tell you all about the pool hall stories like "3 Convict Night", "The Unstable Samoan" and "Avin Becomes A Bouncer" but thats not where I am going with this today.

So I took the lady's advice and interviewed. It was a disaster actually. I dont know if she was ever acquainted with black people before or what her deal was but she was very nervous about things that employers shouldnt be nervous about. First, I still believe I had a discrimination case against her in regard to my nose ring. She actually told the other woman that they wouldnt hire me because of it, but I didnt learn this until almost a year later. It just so happened that I didnt wear it to the interview. Look, if you pick your potential employees out of the pool hall downstairs at happy hour then you cant be picky about whether or not they have a damn nose ring. Second, the last chick she hired had robbed the petty cash drawer with her lil convict boyfriend and she was super extra pressed about making sure I wasnt a petty thief. Again, its a pool hall, not a job fair. I didnt bother to tell her I was also in the process of divorce, that may have sent her over the edge.

So I was offered the job, and I got it down pretty fast. I started chipping away at my novel again and just when I thought I had hit an everyday groove, I was promoted. Seems I was doing so well in my current position, they wanted me to move up. Move up is good, more pay and experiance meant less time writing. 10 years later I almost never write. I am so busy these days that I dont have time to be creative I just know how to work and go home. After being on the computer all day at the office, the last thing I want to do is go home and spend more time on it trying to create when really all I want my brain to do is rest.

Writing was always my escape. It always made me feel better and it always helped me to get my head together especially when things are bad and right now, thats what they are. A particularly shitty week that carried over into a difficult weekend makes me think that I never should have stopped writing. Maybe I will get back there and finish one of those novels, or start back to writing poetry I thought at the time was so sophmoric and now I realize has so much more meaning than I ever thought. Its my life, and they are like a photos and though they are faded I still remember every moment.

Oh and could someone PLEASE get these fucking rabid ass Redskin fans the fuck away from my door? I understand they are all just chomping at the bit to get into some sort of tangle with me since I am an Eagles fan but really, can I live? I have work to do that doesnt involve discussing the "Eastern Motors" team and their performance on the field this evening. I understand you are all very crunk about it but I would appreciate it if you would go measure your dicks someplace else. Yes, I am an Eagles fan. No, I dont feel like discussing it today, however this type of behavior does make me want to throw batteries. Please ask Joe Gibbs to hold the ruler for you, I am fucking busy.

Money In The Bank

2007-09-07T09:01:00.000-04:00

I guess you all have heard about the new Apple iPhone price decrease/new iPod Touch Screen roll out by now. Its been all over the internet and in the paper for the last two days so I am not sure how you would have missed it. Maybe you were working on your drink and your two-step, no matter I will fill you in.

Two days ago Steve Jobs rolled out the new line of iPods with touch screens and new wide screen iPod Nano's. So why should you care about that? Really unless you are a tech geek like me or you never managed to get on board with the iPod thing and have chosen now to do so, it probably wont effect you one way or the other, but thats not the reason I am writing about this really. Its about the whole price drop on the iPhone thing that seems to have caused iNsanity amongst owners. See the iPhone started at a whopping $499 for the 4GB model and $599 for the 8GB. If you read this thing at all, you know I bought one (I mean If I don't do nothin, Imma ball) which I love dearly and think is probably the most fabulous tech gadget I own.

Apparantly, others felt that way too, and shelled out their cash for them too. Fast forward to Wednesday. Folks apparantly are hopping mad that they spent their hard earned cash on an iPhone when they decided to drop the price by $200. The internet is buzzing with salty ass people with their thongs in a twist, losing their damn collective minds over paying extra for the very gadget they waiting in line for. Me? Do I really care about it? Hell no, because I know thats how the world works, and if you want to run a profitable business, sometimes you have to take steps that no one will find cute or popular.

I was reading the Post this morning at o'dark-thirty and there were two seperate articles detailing the anger and hostility that sprang forth from iPhone owners. Some guy was in his feelings so much that he claimed to have sold his stock in Apple. To that I say, you are a fucking fool. Whatever your personal issue with feeling swindled by Jobs and his merry band of iCreators, selling profitable stock is not going to get you your damn money back. Not only that, but why cry about it now? Didnt you get the damn thing long before anyone else had one? Isnt that the price of being first in line? Sometimes you pay for the privelege of owning something before the rest of the population. Steve Jobs would be a jackass and a fool if he didnt continue to create new devices and find new ways to get people to buy them, quit hating on that man and put away the damn pitchforks.

Then I find out that because the iLoones were having a damn coronary episode over their spent money, Apple is going to give early iPhone purchasers a $100 credit. Now, you can say what you want about it, but I am jive happy about that right there. I wont have to come out of pocket for one song, video or movie for quite a while behind that credit so I am quite pleased. All this petitioning and acting upset over spent money is just lunacy, and they can miss me with that for real, I have other things to do with my life.

Speaking of other things, I am in the process of converting my nicely stacked pile of chips into a Condo for me and "the boy". I am finally going to get the hell out of that house with the old folks. I cant tell you when I am moving, or where (yeah, like I would really say) but you can bet your ass one thing. I will not be using a damn moving company again. U-Haul is about to get my paper. We arent going to have another "situation" like we had last October. I dont care what anyone says, that shit will not happen. Perhaps I may have a story or two about the process but I promise it will be nothing like last year.

Other than that, I missed out on taking a trip down to S.C. with the family today. My great aunt is turning 90 and I was invited to attend. I was going to take "the boy" since he doesnt really know that side of the family too well, and make a side trip to see my old pal Tricia who doesnt live too far away from where we were going. That ALL went the hell out the window when I realized that no kids were going, so of course "the boy" didnt want to go. Then dad decided he was staying, which meant there was no need for me to drive. That would put me smack dab in the middle of my mother and her two sisters, in a car for 10 hours.

Yeah you are probably thinking, "how is S.C. 10 hours from D.C.?" I have pondered that too my friends, and since I have actually made it to Atlanta in 10 hours, the logic of this lengthy car ride escapes me. All they will say is that they "take their time" when they go to S.C. Taking your time is one thing, but 10 hours is some real different shit. If you remember this story, then you'll understand why I have no interest in being trapped in a car with those old biddies for half a day, so I hope they take pictures.

I'll Even Cut My Hair And Change My Name

2007-08-31T18:56:00.000-04:00

So I chopped off all my hair. Yeah, I couldnt think of a good way to start this post so I figured I would just come right out and say it. After weeks of torturing my poor hair with bonded tracks and attempting to go back to my regular hair style after removing them, I was just fed up with it and had Ana hack it off. I havent had short hair since my son was a baby, but I know I like it. I also know that its very freeing. Its light, and its beautiful.

So as the hairdresser is chopping down what could only be described as a lopsided flaxen briar patch, I was texting with a friend who I thought was going to break out into that line from International Players Anthem "Dont do it! Reconsider, read some literat-ure on the subject" cause she was highly upset with me for even suggesting I was going to cut it.

I tell you like I tell her, its hair and it will grow back. Seriously, I am not all that attached to it. In fact as I was toting around that full bag of tracks last week I was very unhappy with the prospect of having permanent long hair. It was hot, and I had to spend way too much time dealing with it. Pressing it, curling it, trying to keep it out of my face. I understand that long is the way to go for a whole bunch of folks, but for me, I am going to keep it easy. It cant be so bad, I got more compliments on it in an hour than I ever have on that look I was sporting before. God bless the Dominicans.

I think I just needed a change really. So many things in my life are so heavy right now, and I just need something to be young, fresh and new if you get my drift. I even managed to soak off those acrylic nails I was ever so fond of.....yeah right. I guess for me, my worth doesnt come from a head full of hair or a full set. No, I seem to manage just fine without them.

Other than that, life is starting to return to normal I guess. The old folks returned from their jaunt around the world. They are both violently ill and I have been trying to quaranteen them both to no avail. I dont understand what it is with sick folks and touching things. Just go sit somewhere already.

The whole issue with the starvation weightloss worked out, but today was the very first time I have had the opportunity to go to the gym, but hey what do you do. At least I havent gained any weight since the wedding. I promised my homegirl that this time next year we would go to Ocean City and I would be wearing my old small swimsuits. Two-piece mind you! I dont play, I keeps it real.

Okay, I have to go practice the Cupid Shuffle so I can show up/embarrass my son. What are mom's for?

Bury Me In 93

2007-08-24T17:00:00.000-04:00

Pour out a little liquor, bury me in some Used jeans
A Champion top and a cherry push pop
Bury me in 93, nothin more nothin less,
When I get where I'm goin, I just gotta be fresh

Okay okay maybe I am being a touch dramatic, but if you had seen what I saw last night, you might recite Young Jeezy lyrics too. Last night I witnessed something so heartbreaking that I may never recover. Sit a spell and let me tell you about it.

So "the boy" and I have been home alone for the last few days while the old folks jaunt across the Mediterranean by cruise ship. I am sure they are having a blast. Me and the boy are actually having a blast too, its called peace and quiet. Since the wedding I have been attempting to catch up on my reality TV. I missed a lot, and I have to apologize for promising to review SYTYCD this year and totally giving up mid season but I hear Sabre won and deserved it.

I've been a bit on the stressed out side and trying to lose an enormous amount of weight in a really short period of time. I was going to write about the "dress debacle" while it was occurring but I figured Dia might read it and have a panic attack. Long story short, since February I have gone from 175lbs to 150lbs. That last 5-10 being the hardest to budge and though its not right, I went on a starvation diet for two weeks. The dress fit, and I stopped living in the gym and off tomato, cheese, water, red bull and apples. Don't try that at home kids. There is nothing cute about hypoglycemic attacks while driving...trust me.

Anyway, I am getting sidetracked (its probably residual hunger) so back to my reality TV catch up. Last night I watched one of the Rock of Love episodes (highly recommended reality filth) and this new show came on behind it. Mission: Man Band.

Now I had heard about this show in passing, but I didn't know who the hell was on it or really what the hell it was about. I know yall think I spend my whole life memorizing rap lyrics and watching trash TV but really there is more to me than that. Well, after that diet there isnt much of anything left of me so I will just stick to the topic. While I was busy sitting around cursing these damn acrylic tips and trying press and curl a head full of bonded Yaki #4, I realize that the boys (excuse me Men) on this show used to be real life performers.

We have Chris Kirkpatrick from NSync, the kid who wasn't the Lachey brothers or the funny looking kid from 98 Degrees, The guy who sang that one annoying song about girl and Abercrombie from LFO and some fat guy in a hat with a beard. Who the hell is that exactly???

So I paid it no mind, kept on flat iron curling the nonsense on my head when I hear them start talking about the fat kid and drinking. Seriously WHO IS THAT GUY??

That's when I got out my trusty iPhone (yes I bought one, don't judge me the bible says not to) and started trying to Wiki this Mission Man Band show, when suddenly I heard the guy's name. Bryan Abrams. Shit, I know that guy, why do I know that guy I am thinking and suddenly, they flash on his face and it hits me like Blake hits Amy Winehouse at 4am.

OH SHIT! That's BRYAN.

Yeah so you are lost right now, but I am seriously still traumatized by my revelation. Bryan is the Bryan of Mark, Bryan, Kevin and Sam Color Me Badd fame. The same Bryan that I spent countless hours drooling over and taping pictures of next to my shrine of Mark Wahlberg in high school. The Bryan that I would probably have stepped over any man (maybe not Marky Mark) to get to just for a few bars of "I Adore Mi Amore".

Coincidentally I had a boyfriend who attempted to sing that song once and almost ruined it for me forever. Thanks a lot Jason Swoyer wherever your ass is. Never mind the fact that I still have the original Color Me Badd CD in heavy rotation on my iPod and still remember all the words to "All For Love" and "Thinkin Back" (okay you see my devotion right) I mean I never gave a damn about the other members of the group, but let me assure you that if Bryan had a fan, it was me.

Yes he came in on my list right under Mark and Jon B (lawd dont get me started) so you know it was serious.

Why am I all hyped up and heartbroken (yes I think I can safely say its heartbreak) about all this. Well let me hip you to a few photos. This was the Bryan I knew and loved back in 93.

And this is the Bryan of 2007's Mission Man Band:

They sorta got him cleaned up for the promo shots but I mean damn is this really better?

Seriously, why am I the last to know everything? Why didn't anyone say something to me about this? Or did no one else know? Just call me on the phone, send me a damn text or something and explain it to me. I mean I am reasonable. It seriously took me half an hour to close my mouth. Then I had to call The Makeup Girl and tell her to turn it on. We just sat in stunned silence. I mean, it was just too much for my head full of weave to process.

I know that not everyone stays the same size forever. I am WELL aware of that fact. I also understand he has had some pretty hard times, some alcoholism, a couple baby mommas and a stint working in a tire shop. I will give him the tire thing, Suzy tells me that they are no bullshit and all she did was truck them from one end of the building to the other.

So now they are a band called Sureshot, which is okay with me I mean....I am a touch too old for boy bands (but for some reason not too old to crank dat soulja boy in a public place) but you know how I feel about reality TV. As long as it doesn't get in the way of Lobster Wars and Anchorwoman (how the fuck did this get cancelled so fast???) I will be okay. Besides there isnt shit on right now, all my shows are on hiatus, and I cant keep watching Ninja Warrior and old UFC matches, its giving me strange ideas and we all know I am not stable. I certainly hope that they can get Bryan to drop a few pounds. I mean I might still have a place in my tiny cold little heart for him.

In the words of Fresh from Crunk & Disorderly "Please put Bryan on the tippy top of your prayer list". We want you to know we do it All 4 Love Bryan.

My Best Friend's Wedding

2007-08-20T10:36:00.000-04:00

This weekend, the beautiful Ms. Dia B. became a Mrs. I was so honored to be a part of her special day and to stand up for her as her bridesmaid. For anyone who doesn't know it, Dia is one of my very best girlfriends. Though we've only known each other for a few years, we became close like sisters almost immediately. Its funny, because I have always had people in my life that I considered to be friends, but not very many that I ever felt like I could trust. Dia is just good people. We have been inseparable for years now, and I would feel lost without her friendship.

The wedding was a fabulous event and Dia looked just like a princess. After me and her sisters quit cutting up in the foyer of the church, and we issued warnings to the youngest sister, we made the middle sister go pee for the 50-11th time (she is 4 months pregnant), Juan the matron of honor got her tissue game in check and Tremaine quit dancing, we all got it together and made it down the aisle. Now the youngest and the MOH will cry at the drop of a hat, so I knew they weren't going to make it. What I didn't know was that we would all wind up crying the moment they opened the doors for Dia's walk down the aisle. Seriously....I lost it. I couldn't hold it in because I knew that my best girlfriend was about to embark on a lifetime of joy with one of the greatest guys I have ever met.

EVERYTHING was perfect (well we had a slight hair snafu, but that's unimportant) and I mean everything. The makeup, the hair, the dress, the family, the bridal party, the flowers, the cake the music and even the fuzzy soft slippers you bought for each and every one of us so we didn't have to teeter around on our wedding shoes the whole reception. Dia was perfection, and I am not sure I have ever seen a more beautiful bride. Saturday we were all a family, everyone. Even the boyfriend said that he loved how everyone was so comfortable. You knew that they were there just for Dia and Captain.

So this is for my best friend Dia. I love you, and I am so unbelievably happy for you and Captain and the boys. If you ever need anything, whether its the shirt off my back or the last penny in my pocket, its forever yours to have. I will stand by you, and I will support you and I will always make sure you know that my family is your family. So when you run back your tape of the wedding and you see me crying in my tangerine dress, just know that those are tears of joy, and pride and happiness. Thank you both so much for choosing me to stand up for you, and I will continue to stand up for you and your family forever.

Congratulations Dia & Captain
Love Always,
Avin

You Talk Too Much, And You Never Shut Up

2007-07-31T13:58:00.001-04:00

It always amazes me that people think you dont know what they say about you. Case in point, there are a few people that I am WELL aware talk enormous amounts of shit about me on a daily fucking basis. I am not surprized by it and hell they arent all that discrete, but the thing that always trips me out is who they choose to tell. Its funny because for every person that they believe that they are best buddies with, there is another one waiting to sell them down the river. Thats how it works. This is why you keep your head down, and your mouth shut and you dont get too friendly with people.

My mother taught me some very valuable lessons about life when I was very little. They were the same lessons her mother taught her. Perhaps not in the same way, but clearly the message is the same. Its like the paperbag at the grocery store. You dont get paper because its so much sturdier or easy to carry, you get it because its not seethrough, and people cant determine what you buy. That way they cant gossip about what your brand name groceries have to do with how much you make. I hope you dont think I am reaching here, cause I have heard pleanty of people gossip about how much someones shoes might cost or what they drive so dont think groceries arent applicable. Same goes for your personal business, hanging out with people who can effect your livelyhood and trusting strangers. Its stupid and it will always come back to bite you right square in the ass. Dont talk so loud, dont be stupid its easy.

Speaking of asses, I fell on mine Saturday, and I am in agony. Why does every one of my fall stories involve a cute pair of shoes? This particular pair of sandals had super slick bottoms and I didnt realize that low traction on high pyle equals a mid-air free fall. I actually hit the ground running. There was just no way for me to sit or stand or be still after a crash like that. I banged up my ankle, my elbow and managed to hurt my neck in addition to the massive damage I did to my posterior. I have been living off of Aleve for days now, and the bruise just keeps getting bigger. I am just happy I didnt really hurt myself, then I would really be accused of moving too fucking slow. I figure as long as I havent really harmed myself then life will continue as usual. This does put a major kink in my workout regiment. I was getting sort of used to going to the gym 3 times a week, but I dont really think my Latin Fusion class is going to be fun running around shaking a broken ass cheek.

Well my son returns Saturday, and if you know anything about his yearly trip to the sticks, you know that he will probably come back a whole lot thinner. He says that he hasnt been allowed to do much of anything this year. No movies, no pool, and his dad is never home. He is particularly pissed about missing Transformers. I asked him if his hillbilly daddy wanted to see it, but he informed me that his dad is wayyyy too busy working. I started to say that I didnt know carnies and grifters worked that much, but I guess summer is the busy season. I didnt, come on I am mean but I am not heartless...most of the time. I wouldnt say that to the kid, even if I was thinking it.

Oh did I mention that my ex-husband has decided to switch careers? My son tells me he is now running around the country playing "Dog The Bounty Hunter". This of course has me tickled in ways you cant even imagine. This will provide comic fodder for years and years to come, much like his former job as a mall security guard. I couldnt even wait to tell my best friend Suzanne about it. She actually couldnt stop laughing for a solid 10 minutes but before we could even get it together we were telling jokes. Who the hell would hire a former convict as a bail bondsman? He is probably splitting the take with the felons. I mean really, someone explain it to me.

Well, let me go ice my left ass cheek and cut my eyes at some people who deserve it.

Like The Desert's Missed The Rain......

2007-07-24T21:38:00.000-04:00

Yes I have been missing. Yes I have an actual explanation but really no one wants to hear it. Basically, I find myself in a bit of a pickle. I have plenty to say but I wont or cant, or both I mean really if you are not going to write it then why go into the reasons.

I am being vague, I know but some of you already know my reasons and perhaps someday soon I will get back to doing what I love here. I just cant see filling my blog full of what I classify as worthless bullshit that doesn't pertain to my life just for the sake of writing.

Sadly, its effected my other blog too. More than anything I am busy and NOT in a good way, so once again I have put off the things I really love (i.e. writing and talking about beauty) to do a rack of shit I fucking hate and that is probably an understatement. I am POSITIVE I will have to hear some shit about that crack too, but take a damn number cause you'll just have to get in line to crawl the fuck up my ass. The line starts back down the block, hope you have a shitload of time to wait.

Other than that, everyone is good. The boy is fine, the boyfriend is fine, my family is great and my friends are happy I love them all.

I hope y'all are good too. I miss you guys truly.

Wipe Me Down

2007-06-12T10:04:00.000-04:00

So I have been at the gym religiously (serious pilgrimage type stuff here) for a few months now, and on Monday nights they have a class that I had been dying to try. Of course I knew no one in the class, and that made me nervous. I would just look through the glass longingly at everyone having such a great time and think “I would love to do that…let me get my ass on the treadmill”.
So last week I ran into a friend from high school at the gym, and it turns out she had just finished taking the class I so desperately wanted to join, Latin Fusion. She told me what a great work out it was, and how I should try it with her one day. Well one day was last night and can I tell you that I am sorry I waited this long to get in on it. This is a no bullshit class. We are talking a solid hour of nothing but high intensity cardio masquerading as Latin dance. It was fun, it was difficult, it was painful, it was the best total body workout I have had in years.

The instructor is a lot of fun, and she really gets into the program with us, and everyone is just trying to keep up. I was covered in sweat after the second song, and I looked at my friend Erica and said “What the hell did I sign on for?” The hour flew though, and that hour was more like an hour and 15 min. I gotta admit that if it weren’t for my thighs threatening to give out, I would have kept going. I think you burn somewhere in the neighborhood of 600 calories in that class. She had great music choices and we never stopped moving.

On another note, it so weird that I am running into all these folks from high school again. People I haven’t seen or heard from in years. Folks who I basically forgot existed. Its so strange. I am not opposed to seeing folk from the past, frankly for some of them there are 14 + years that have gone by since we’ve seen each other, so its like getting to know people all over again. We spent a whole extra hour outside the gym chatting and catching up after the class. Life is really good like that sometimes.

So if you don’t know, my best friend Dia is getting married in August, and have a size 12 bridesmaid dress to get my fat ass into. I have designs on dropping at very least 20lbs before then. I have been on No White Stuff for a week and a half now but I went to the damn doctor today and they put my ass on the scale which was a total blower. I know I am smaller than that damn it! Anyway, if their scale is correct I have more like 25 lbs to lose, but between the intense work outs and the carb restrictions, I think I should make my goal by the end of July. Wish me luck folks!

Its Audition Time People

2007-05-30T21:06:00.000-04:00

So somehow I managed to miss the whole first hour of SYTYCD auditions! I don't know what the hell I was doing really. Anyway, the chicanery has already begun! Benji's damn sister has entered the competition. What did I say last week??? NO RINGERS and I already smell a fix! Not only that, but that fucking munchkin Shane Sparks is back with his bullshit You Got Served With The Lollipop Guild choreography bullshit. Then I see Wade Robeson's ass which I guess means he doesn't care that they stole this entire idea from him when he created the Wade Robeson Project back in 2003 on MTV but hey who is counting.

Let me tell you, the auditions are pretty wack too, and of course you would expect that to happen, its auditions. You get 30,000 fucked up auditions and like 20 good ones. Some of the folks are just fuckin crazy. Question, where do all these damn itty bitty shorts come from? Are they draws? Are they spandex? I mean seriously where do they come from? Furthermore, those shorts aren't made for minorities. I always see them on little girls with no booty, but never anyone ethnic. Ethnic peoples have ass parts, and more ass parts as they get closer to 30, so those shorts wherever they originate from, are beyond my comprehension. Seriously someone, tell me about the shorts though, cause I don't fuckin get it.

Remember it comes on Wednesday...and would someone please remind my ass cause I cant remember shit.

Mexico Don't Want It With Oprah

2007-05-29T10:14:00.000-04:00

Trust me when I say it. If you missed it, last night during the Miss Universe Pageant, live from Mexico, the contestant representing the USA Rachel Smith, fell during the evening gown portion of the show. She was already in the top ten and they were narrowing it down to 5. When they finally cut the last 5 girls, Ms. Mexico was amongst the cut and Ms. USA was in the final 5. That's when the block got hot and shit started getting thick.

Suddenly the audience starts booing Ms. USA during her final question. I am not talking about a few hecklers, I am talking full on boos and hisses and shit. I half expected some "1996 Source Awards" shit to occur. Even the hosts were looking mad uncomfortable. I gotta hand it to Rachel though, homegirl was poised and unshaken by the rude ass boos. That being said, she came in 4th runner up and Ms. Japan won the crown.

Though news outlets are trying to pretend like the booing was about Mexico's disagreement with the immigration situation and American policy, I really don't think its that damn deep. If you are on your home turf and you are ignorant as fuck, and they don't pick your representative over the chick that fell, then your ghetto ass boos. Its that simple, its like the kid who didn't win prisoner ball and now wants to take his ball home.

What Mexico failed to realize in their rush to boo Rachel Smith was that she is a close, personal friend and former intern of non other than Oprah "The Winfrey". Oprah is more powerful than Zeus and richer than god, and she has the contacts, the media access and the strength to wake up on a Monday, and sell a country Tuesday, trust and believe. Mexico doesn't want it with Oprah. Rachel Smith went to the South African Girl's School with Oprah and a cast of other celebrities last year so its not like they just know each other in passing Not only that, but maybe no one else is privy to the info but my guess is OW isn't going to take kindly to them booing a black woman on International TV, one that she personally knows and supports.

Sure she might not do anything. She might not even say anything, but don't you wonder if last night while laying in bed with Steadman, watching that shit go down she didn't lower her reading glasses and give Steadman the side-eye and say "Meet me at the border...its going down" ala Young Joc? Shit, there are a whole lot of folks that I don't particularly think its a safe bet to fuck with, but on the top of my list is OW. She looks like she would shank and shush a motherfucker in a heartbeat. Don't be surprised if that border fence is built within the week, you know she could get buck and have Steadman, Dr. Oz, Gayle, Rachel Ray, Bob Greene, out there kickin Mexicans back over the border while Nate Berkus builds the fence out of bamboo and gingham print.

I am just saying it could happen, Mexico if you see Oprah chillin in her beamer, listenin to Ether....you might wanna make for the hills.

Pop, Lock and Drop It..Almost

2007-05-17T20:46:00.000-04:00

Just when I thought I might die of reality TV boredom, one of my favorite shows is finally coming back on. If you hung out round here last year you already know that I am prone to re-capping So You Think You Can Dance or SYTYCD (hey I ain't typing all that crap every time).

Don't get me wrong I watch other reality shows, its not an exclusive relationship me and the bad dancers. I love them, they love me, but really I gotta be able to watch other stuff. Charm School, I Love NY, Celebrity Fit Club, American Idol, Dancing With The Stars, The Ultimate Fighter, Deadliest Catch, Next Top Model, Pussycat Dolls, Coyote Ugly....so on and so forth I watch it all but I LOVE me some bad dancing.

If its remotely as entertaining as last season I will be pleased as punch but I don't want any ringers! No more baby boy of the king of east coast swing and his damn cousin. That shit is a fix if you ask me. No more vane egotistical shirtless boys from Slavic nations either, and I like shirtless boys! What I do hope for is more twirling boys and fast stepping girls who do big things to popular music that I couldn't with two pints of Ciara, a dash of Chris Brown and two fifths of the Godfather of Soul. You know you love it.

Oh and I might also recap the highly unpopular (but not nearly as unpopular as The Ultimate Fighter) amongst my readers Rescue Me. Was that a collective groan? Yeah well go tell it on the mountain or something, cause that show is damn good, and you don't know what you are missing. The magic that is Dennis Leary just cant be beat, its better than a T-Pain remix.....okay maybe not that good, but I guarantee you would enjoy it if you just gave it a chance.

So that's what is in store for you, and a lot of other really weird post about shit that just doesn't matter all that much.

Later

Mother's Day

2007-05-13T19:42:00.000-04:00

Happy Mother's Day Folks, hope you had a good one.

I know some of the stuff I say here makes it seem like I am not the most sunshiny kind of gal, but on the real, I am happy. Yeah I have my complaints, some of which I talk about, others I just keep to my damn self but personally, when I am not putting up with other folks antics and bullshit I like who I am inside. I don't have any problems with the person Ive become and I don't have any need to apologize for being exactly who I am.

I used to think I had to explain everything I did to every person who just didn't get it, but you know what I really don't. I used to think that I always had to be careful of what I said and did for fear I wouldn't be well received or heaven forbid my ideas may offend others. I don't run around aiming to offend but if you don't like what I have to say that's really okay.

I am probably just happy because I bought a really great dress this weekend. I don't have a clue where I am going to wear this thing, I mean it isn't the type of dress you can just roll out of bed and put on. I wouldn't dare wear it to the office cause its just too fancy for all that. I had an opportunity this weekend to wear it, but I am glad I didn't waste my fancy dress on a snore of a Mother's Day brunch.

Which reminds me I need to go more places that require me to wear clothing that I like, instead of the crap I normally wear. I have really great clothes...most of them on the cusp of being too damn small but none the less they are really great looking. I don't know if I discussed the 300+ pairs of shoes I own, but the summer shoes are by far my favorite. Of course I bought more this weekend, but how do I appropriately wear my new dress if I don't possess the proper footwear?

Mother's Day has been pretty decent so I guess I am feeling pretty good. I am sure someone will waste no time shitting on my good disposition tomorrow well before 9am. For now though, I am happy.

You Can Stand Under My Umbrella ella-ella-eh-eh-eh....

2007-05-08T19:04:00.000-04:00

I know I have been gone since before the beginning of time, but Ive been busy. Not just sorta busy but extra busy on a level previously unmatched. I have a ton of observations so I will try to cram it in quick, I know yall got a short attention span and I do tend to go on and on. Come sit a spell.

First lets discuss Amy Winehouse and the amazing concert I attended with my friend Tia this weekend. Not only was the ride and the company and the picking through tons of vinyl really a great time, but the concert (despite the lack of seating) was great too. I had an absolute ball, and Amy was not too drunk or belligerent. My real fear was that she would go on some sort of bender and not make it to the show, but she was great and there were no issues.

Next up, I quit the whole UFC Ultimate Fighter thing...I told you I might. Its just too much for me. The boyfriend is watching it, but frankly I have other shit to do.

Ive been going to the gym religiously since March but I really haven't done much talking about it here. Its like every time I start obsessing about my weight I take two steps backwards. I am not on No White Stuff, but I assume I might get there once my best friend's wedding gets closer. I am down 10 lbs, but you know me, results are never enough.

Speaking of the damn gym, they had a fire alarm yesterday and put us ALL out of the damn facility. I was lucky that it wasn't too cold and that I had just changed, so I had all my pertinent shit with me. I don't leave shit behind to burn up. That's crazy, I may not own a whole lot, but the shit I do have I don't need flame broiled. They let us back in, but I mean damn I don't like having to delay my run for 20 min. I mean I dont like running to start but I did just build up to a solid 15 min, so its important that I stay on track.

I also tried to cut back on watching so much reality TV recently. It seems to be working, either that or all the shows are off right now. I am down to Celeb Fit Club and Charm School. I am sorta following Dancing W/The Stars and Idol, but not really. Most of my TV time is devoted to Ugly Betty, Grey's and Lost. Lets talk about Grey now shall we?

I am starting to be REAL upset with that show. I don't appreciate this "relationship" they pulled out of their asses for George and Izzy. I am mostly having a problem with it because Sara Ramirez is getting shitted on. Shouldn't Izzy be somewhere still crying over Denny? I would be. Why the hell does she want to be with George and why is George such a douche that he would want her? Fuck it, I mean its not about the actors, its about the damn writers and Shonda I need you to get a grip on your people.

I cant think of anything else right now but you get where I am coming from. I promise more later, oh and remind me to tell you all about my "mild" night out on the town.

Saturday Ramblings

2007-04-21T12:39:00.000-04:00

So I was all set to review the new season of The Ultimate Fighter, but in all honesty, I don't know that I will even watch it. I wrote a review of last week, which was hella juvenile but I never posted it. It was neither comical, nor exciting. Its was a chore even watching last week's episode and this week was almost worse and if you saw it, you know exactly what I am talking about. If I watch and it gets better I will let you know, but if not the next UFC review you get from me will be of an actual match and not this bullshit.

Ive had a lot of personal drama occurring in my household recently, and all of it stems from an unexpected illness and hospital stay. My dad has been in for a week now with pneumonia and a stomach virus of some sort. Basically, I have spent the last week trying to hold down the fort and keep my son on task. My mother is a totally different story. She is just running herself ragged back and forth to the hospital to make sure dad is okay. I don't even get myself involved in that. Part of me thinks she thrives on it and the other part thinks she doesn't know what else to do. I don't try to understand her cause her logic is so twisted most times.

That brings me to the Virginia Tech shootings. My mother, of course has some feelings about it and if you've ever read anything about her on here you know she has some sort of obsession with outcasts, loners, misunderstood or abused children and the like. So of course, she latches on to the fact that the kid was a loner, and basically I am fearing that we are about to have a new screaming match because anything like that ties directly back to my son for some reason, and then she will have to reiterate how she thinks he is being treated poorly and will turn into one of these children. No proof or evidence to suggest that type of scenario mind you. Just her, feeling that her grandson is weak, mentally challenged, incapable and pathetic yet again. I didn't get involved with it this morning. I just walked away and let it ride. I cant fight the good fight every day, and I wont entertain this nonsense, the kid who killed the students at VA Tech has serious mental health issues and that doesn't have shit to do with her grandson.

It finally got warm this weekend and I am glad to see it happen, but I guess that feeling isn't shared across the board. "The boyfriend" hates the damn outdoors. He hates sunshine and people and life in general I think unless it involves being downstairs in his basement watching TV. Okay, possibly I am being unfair, but every time I want to enjoy a little sunshine or just generally have a nice day outside of the house, I get major static. He is sitting here, right now as I type, watching a movie he has probably seen 50 times, just so he doesn't have to be outdoors, or involved with anything remotely fun. Why sit in the house all day is what I am saying? I blame myself really, I asked him to come down, and I should have just let his ass stay home like he wanted.

Happy Saturday folks.

Inked Till The End

2007-04-13T22:17:00.000-04:00

Have I mentioned my love of tattoos? I probably have, I mean it is a huge part of who I am. I don't know how I could have left that part out. Seriously, though I dislike getting them, but I really love the end result. I don't have one tattoo that I don't adore. I couldn't possibly get a tattoo that I didn't feel I would love 40 or 50 years from now. Each is special and unique and perfect for me.

I do have one that needs a ton of work. It was the first one I got when I was 20 and it has not weathered the years very well. Its the only one that has any color, and to be honest it was a pretty poor piece of flash out of a book on a trip to Dallas, Georgia. I got sick, immediately. I have serious anxiety issues and what I didn't know about getting tattoos is that sometimes your body will take over and anxiety will drop you like a stone.

I thought it was just hypoglycemia, but really it was anxiety, so I waited another 4 years to get another. That of course went just like the first, except it was bigger and more involved and it took so.fucking.long. Seriously it took forever, and I talked the entire time, loud and annoying and what I assume to be fast. So here I am sweating, and sick, and talking a mile a minute. I must have been a pain in the ass.

I think it was 4 or 5 years ago when a friend decided he was getting these tattoos he had been yammering about for years. Okay that's probably not fair, but seriously I had heard about these damn tattoos for nigh on 10 years and I was glad to see him get on with the get on. I came to provide moral support, but trust and believe he didn't need it. See there are a couple types of tattoo people. There are folks like me that hate everything about the experience except the tattoo covered dudes who work in the shop and the end result, and then there are folks who actually enjoy the tattoo process.

My buddy got two gi-normous tattoos across his upper arms/biceps that took at least 3 hours a piece. He did them both in one sitting, with a one hour break in between. He never even flinched and frankly I was both shocked, amazed and horrified (both is two yes I am aware) that for such a skinny guy he could sit and take all that buzzing and digging and I couldn't even get one without trying to regurgitate.

His behavior convinced me I could actually get another tattoo. So I loaded up on all sorts of soda and candy and food, convincing myself it was a hypoglycemic attack I was attempting to stop. I sat down and 3 minutes in, I got sick again. Sheesh you would think I could learn, but no I just had to keep pushing it. That one hurt too, it was in the worst possible place and it felt like someone was digging into my spine with a hot knife. Why couldn't I be calm like that guy getting the huge Koi tattoo on his back as he snored. Re-fuckin-diculous!

The thing about tattoos is, if you get one its almost impossible to stop. Something about getting ink is so addictive. It becomes something you need to do, not so much want to do. For me its being able to have something so completely different and special that no one really knows about. Sure people who know me, know how much I love them, and know that I have them. I don't tell other people, cause there is a whole lot of non-judgemental judging that goes on when you tell someone you have even one.

If they have some preconceived notions about them, suddenly it becomes one of those things where they have to pretend to be cool with it. Or they have to try hard not ask you insulting questions about it. Its a big mess really, and I have yet to hear anyone formulate a good enough answer other than "I wanted to" and you know that never clears up a damn thing to the un-inked.

The other thing about tattoos (I am ashamed to admit) is that I love tattooed men. A man almost always gets extra points if I think he is attractive and then I find out he has tattoos. I love tattoo artists, I love tattoo apprentices, I just love tattoo culture. Sheesh its hard to explain but I just had this discussion with a friend of mine and she agreed 100%.

I guess I am lucky, I don't catch any heat for my ink, my mother thinks the tattoos I have are beautiful and secretly wishes she were brave enough to get her own 15 year old butterfly re-touched. My son loves them and plans for the day when he can get his own, my boyfriend is covered in them, and my closest friends have them and find them as wonderful as I do. Yes, I am very lucky indeed. My inner circle finds no fault with my choices, and I love them for that.

So I find myself healing new ink. It is by all accounts the most intricate and beautiful piece I have. Its also the one I am most proud of, because not only does it mean so much to me personally, but its the very first tattoo I've gotten where I didn't get sick. I cant stop looking at it and its inspired several people to go back and work on their own canvas. Its a work in progress and the first tattoo that I am not sure will ever truly be complete. I have plans for it, and its not even a full week old.

Can I say that I am finished? Hell no, I will keep getting tattoos for as long as I have enough skin and hiding places. The day it bores me, the day it becomes an afterthought and not a way to beautify my personal canvas, the day I cant wear a tank top and shorts without folks having a complete tizzy, then I will stop. Not that I would ever wear shorts, come on people I am crazy not stupid. I love what I have done to my body, and with every new piece I feel a little more settled.

Jesus Take the Wheel! UFC Edition

2007-04-10T11:52:00.000-04:00

My beloved Georges St. Pierre has lost the UFC Welterweight title! All is lost and I fear I may never be right again. Okay I know that was dramatic but seriously GSP is the man, and how he managed to lose is just incomprehensible! I never thought I would say it but “I am not impressed with your performance” GSP. You let me down homie. Will I ever be able to chant along with the TV audience “GSP, GSP?”

I knew that shit wasn’t going to be an easy fight. Matt Serra is the beast and he proved it on last seasons The Ultimate Fighter: The Comeback. I was seriously rooting for him and you know what? He delivered. He never once disappointed me. He has a killer game on the ground, and he is probably as good inside the octagon as he is a coach. Seriously Matt worked his ass of, which is why GSP should have been on his game. He knew what he was up against. I mean sure Serra is no Hughes, but shit I could be totally wrong about that shit too. Looks like Serra’s first defense of the title is with non other than that cocky fuck Matt Hughes. There is already some simmering bad blood between them after Hughes visited the house during TUF4.

Seriously thought GSP, why? Just why? I was never as happy as I was the day you worked Hughes over took the title away. I could see it in your face man, you wanted that title and you were going to get it by any means. This shit is just perplexing, and frankly with a body like that, I should be able to see you kickin ass, holding the title belt over your head for years to come. Fuck I am getting depressed again, let me move on.

Speaking of bad blood, apparently there is or was a fight between Tito and Dana White??? This I have to see. I have long held that something was not quite “managerial” about Dana White’s physique. He doesn’t look to me like he spends all day signing checks and contracts (thought I know he does) just sitting on his ass bullshitting. Naahh, that man works out, and hardcore. Apparently, I am right because I found out recently he is a former boxer. This thing is supposed to be to settle some differences he and Tito have or had in the past, and its purely for shits and grins. Its not a PPV bout, its not a UFC:50-11, is just a plain old match between the two, where I pray Tito doesn’t pound the shit out of Dana so badly he cant go back to signing checks. Oh and Tito, please for the love of god can you get your girlfriend a damn sandwich??? She looks crazy these days and a whole lot like MumRaah. Its not a good look, so toss her a protein bar and one of them damn EAS shakes. Hurry, the gossip bloggers are having a fuckin field day.

So I realized this weekend that I had missed the first episode of The Ultimate Fighter 5. I did however check out the website and let me tell you I am not impressed. Where did they gets these dudes? There is not a Mike Bisping, a Ed Herman or a Kendall Grove amongst them IMO. The previews look like some drama time bullshit too. They are up in the house bumping chests and measuring dicks already. I mean, a little bit of drama is necessary to the show, like when Shoney Carter was throwing those damn water bottles in the pool and be-dazzling all his damn clothes, or when Chris Leben pissed on Jason Thacker’s bed in Season 1. All that shit is super important to how much the fighter wants to tear someone’s head off in the octagon. All I am saying is these dudes look like straight bitches, and someone better step up fast or I will be pissed off.

It's Spring Again

2007-04-02T10:30:00.000-04:00

Spring here in the DC Area can mean a lot of things. First and foremost it means that the weather will be hella unpredictable. I never understand why folks get so excited and confused by temporary breaks in the weather. Its Spring people, not summer. Put your damn clothes back on. We had one 80 degree day and suddenly the population loses its mind and starts breaking out the flip flops and shorts. Oh and let me not even get started on the open toe shoes. It was March, and it had snowed just the week before, but I guess that one day was enough to make everyone kirk out and think it was Summer.

I bet it wasn't summer a day later when it was 40 damn degrees and no one had a coat or even sleeves. I bet it wasn't open toe shoe weather when that driving rain was coming down and it was 35 that evening huh? I say it every year but I am going to make it known here that March does not equal Spring in Washington DC. If you got cold, soaked, or were generally caught off guard in your summer clothes then it serves you right. Put some damn clothes on and act like you have an ounce of sense already.

This weekend we went down to the Tidal Basin to see the Cherry Blossoms, which was very nice. Of course there were some fools down there in their shorts and fuckin flip flops freezing their fool asses off. It was 6am, it was 40 degrees and I had on a damn coat and some clothes cause my momma taught me common sense as a itty bitty child. Here are some of the pictures we took.

So to address "Spring" let me start with this. When digging through your clothes from the previous year. Try them on first I beg you. Do not keep or put on anything that is going to leave you looking like an exploded can of biscuits. If there is any doubt in your mind whether it looks crazy or not, ASK someone. Do not hop on the Red line and spend half the ride tugging at your pants. Do not show the office the upper portion of your breasts in a top made to fit your son. Do not wear your "club gear" to the damn office. Its super unprofessional and just tacky as fuck. A good way to check and see if its appropriate is to ask yourself if you have ever "gotten low" in any portion of this outfit. If so, its a poor choice.

Please fix your damn toes before you go running out in open toe shoes. NOT that I condone their use until after tax day, but if you must be that bold and retarded go get a pedicure. Above all else, dress appropriately for the office weather. Unless you work for the park service you will not be outdoors. The office will be air conditioned, and probably cold, so tank tops, pedal pushers and thong sandals are also a poor choice. I don't even know why I bother, cause the promise of warm weather does bring out the bammas.

In addition, I need to address this recent resurgence of "Passing". Passing, if you are unaware is something ethnic peoples did in order to gain entry into white society. The would "pretend" to be white in order to reap certain benefits. Now I know some of this still goes on in the black community, but what I didn't realize was how prevalent it is in the Hispanic and Latino communities. I am well aware that their are some folks who would rather be ANYTHING but ethnic, but it doesn't make it right. What you do is deny yourself the opportunity to learn and embrace your own heritage.

Trust and believe that most folks will know that you aren't white, and all the wishing and the praying in the world wont make you become white either. I just cant figure out how someone would so deeply hate their own race that they would pretend not to be it at all. I find it sad, and I also find it embarrassing but I guess if your intent is to assimilate and become more than what you think your race can be, then you don't care how it looks.

Its crazy to me because I remember growing up and having people assume my mother was white, and it used to make me so angry I would want to fight. Not because it wasn't feasible for my mother to be white, I am pretty damn light, but because I was proud to be black, and happy with my blackness and I didn't feel any different than any of the darker kids in my school. Back then, it was an insult and the folks who said it, used it as such.

My son, (though half white) is a black man. He isn't a mulatto man, he isn't a biracial man, he is black. There is no confusion in our household about that. He needs to be aware that no matter how light he is, and no matter who his father is, no one is going to look at him and mistake him for a Caucasian. If he gets into trouble, he will be treated like a black man. If he goes for an interview, they will see a black man, and when he gets a job he will have to work twice as hard just like he does in school just to be on the same playing field.

He absolutely will be subjected to racism, the black tax and stereotyping. He is and will be treated differently all of his life, and no one is gonna stop to ask what color his dad is. These (though I am quite sure some folks wont believe it) are the cold hard facts and frankly if I don't prepare him for that, then I have failed at my job as his mother.

I would love to see a day when folks aren't ashamed of their heritage. I would love to see a day when people aren't afraid to check the box they belong in. My guess is though if this is still happening today, its not going to change in my lifetime and that is a sad realization.

Criminal Minded

2007-03-25T20:17:00.000-04:00

I have a strange hobby, and its probably not nearly as strange as I think. I like googling old boyfriends just to see what the hell I come up with. I never had a hit until recently which shocked me to shit of course. I dated quite a few guys in my life who just swore that with time and opportunity they were going to become "Big Shit" but so far I havent seen any of that happen. Guess we cant all be famous, but for those of you still waiting to make it big I wager you'll never do it like this. I ladies and gents can officially say that I dated a Federal Inmate. Something about that just cracks me up.

I dated inmate number 7779311 [1] back before I figured out that not everyone in life was on the up and up. I was 15 and he was 23 and I met him on my way back from the grocery store. It was summer, I was irritated with my little high school boyfriend and I was walking, he was driving and frankly that should have told me something right there. Silly me, I was in my rebellious stage and the idea of a 23 year old boyfriend sounded like the perfect bad girl thing to do.

Of course that decision was all sorts of wrong. I never bothered to ask what the hell a grown ass man would want with a 15 year old, or why he seemed to always have other peoples car titles. I didnt ask questions about the several different vehicles he would show up in, or how none of his stories seemed to make any sense. Partly because I liked bad boys and mean men, partly because I really didnt care all that much and I was still in school. It totally wasnt a serious relationship, it was just me, classic Avin, acting out.

Shortly before summer ended I got back with my high school boyfriend, and just stopped calling him. He went back to whatever rock he crawled out from under and that was pretty much that. I always wondered about him though, he had a very unique name and an even more unique story. His bayou upbringing and his funky bullshit stories always made me wonder what the hell was really going on with him. It was another life ago, and honestly I knew he was some type of criminal, but whether he was a petty dealer or an actual felon I never figured out...till today.

I had just got off the phone with a friend from his home state, and she was telling a story about another criminal she knew when she was a young girl. Come on ladies we all have the "I once dated a bad boy" story so lets not pretend that we didnt m'kay? Her story totally reminded me that I had my own convict story. So I got to picking around online and googled his name and there he was in all his glory.

The charges? Identity theft of 3 seperates professional atheletes and credit card fraud. Apparantly he has been at this since at least 1995, and to make matters worse, the cops knew who he was and had been after him for years. I'll hip you to a passage from one of the news reports:

The Feds think "Jailbird" found out they were on to him. Police staked him out and spent a day casing "Jailbird's" assumed hideout, but they think he got the heads up and bounced. Police indicated that "Jailbird" had a set of brass ones, and called 5.0 talkin about "You aint fresh as I'm I'z, ya'll got 2 months to get your shit together...good luck". Repeated attempts to catch his triflin ass went awry.[2]

It was by luck that they apprehended his ass in the first place. I think there was some sort of registration problem with the car, and the girl who was driving took off and led them on a police chase. When they finally pulled them over, she had no clue what his name was other than the the middle name he had given, and he had all three ID's on him with his face in place of the celebrities.

Funny stuff if you ask me, cause my first thought was that he looks nothing like those guys. AT ALL, and not only that the guys dont look alike. I wonder who was falling for this con? Anyway, it looks like he is doing a 9 year bid in the Federal Pen and frankly I find it funny. No I dont find identity theft funny, but I do find stupid criminals to be hillarious. Remember I have to get my dose of ignorance from somewhere and "I Love NY" is just about over so sue me. [3]

[1] My favorite song from "The Time" and I love a good music reference.
[2] Sorry, yall know I cant type what was really said, even though I pretty much translated the article verbatim , my version was a shitload more entertaining anyway.

[3] I know what you are thinking, that chick is really crazy well you would be right but dont judge me the bible says not to.

Amy, Amy, Amy

2007-03-19T09:06:00.000-04:00

I have officially declared March Amy Winehouse Month here at Avin’s Day. Its been a tumultuous two weeks full of ups, downs, and liquor so its fitting that I would choose her to represent this month. For anyone who has ever had a broken heart, or some shit to say or just made one two many mistakes this CD isn’t just pretty music, its an anthem.

For those who don’t know, Amy Winehouse is only the most fabulous soul singer to cross the pond (sorry Corinne, you’ll always be my homegirl) in quite some time. Her songs drip with emotion and sorrow, yet you find yourself singing with your heart full and light. It’s the most bizarre thing. Think Sarah Vaughn crammed into the teeny tiny little body of a big haired, makeup laden Jewish Brit.

I’ve only been waiting for this album for a year. It was released in the U.K. to serious critical acclaim and has only picked up steam since. This week is her long awaited US debut, and I just cant get enough. The girl is phenomenal, but of course as with anyone who is able to completely display their emotions in artistic release, the lady has a few issues. The largest of which being her love for the sauce, which makes her unpredictable and dangerous to both herself and a few unlucky others.

You get the feeling that she has this small window where her star will burn white hot and bright but will fade quickly if she isn’t able to get a handle on the drink. It’s the soundtrack of her life and its messy and complicated, but that’s what makes it beautiful. Its layered, its heavy and its thought provoking and downright as blunt as it gets. Its as smoky as any blues bar and so personal it reads like a diary. Its just Amy, and its worth the money, so pick it up.

Now You Know...

2007-03-12T15:56:00.000-04:00

Today I asked old dude who sits in the office next to mine if he had some sort of single mother issue. This is twice I count that he has said something extra stereotypical in that regard and frankly I figured that if I didn’t say something soon the ignorance would continue. Not one to really hold my tongue, but certainly not one to stir the pot, I made up my mind after being angry about his comment on Friday to point blank ask him if it was his belief that black women with children were all unwed.

Now I know what your thinking, “There goes Avin again jumping to conclusions”. Quite the opposite actually. When it occurred Friday I had sort of made up my mind to just chalk it up to life in field, however after I finished telling the story to my mother, “the boyfriend” and a few of my homegirls, they all said the same thing: “I would have cussed him out”. I didn’t think cussing anyone out was appropriate, but I did think that it warranted a discussion. So I approached him and asked if that’s where his head was at. I wasn’t nasty, I wasn’t rude I was just direct.

I think he was stunned, and not so much because it wasn’t true, but probably because he assumed that I just wouldn’t ask him something like that. Too bad. There are things you say in a work environment and there are things you don’t. Asking me if “my baby’s father is still in the picture” is one of them. The other? Asking if the pregnant girl I just mentioned is married. Neither have a damn thing to do with the industry I am in, and neither pass for polite get-to-know-you conversation. I am not altogether sure which question reeks more of sheltered socio-economic snobbery and borderline racism but make no mistake they are wholly inappropriate.

So basically his response was “I’m not that way”, and though I wanted to enquire exactly what way he meant, I think the pale shaken and stuttering way that he responded was enough. I wanted to ask him why he didn’t enquire about my ex-husband or the sex of the child or its due date instead of going directly to the questions he asked however it wasn’t important. I also wanted to bring up the fact that he always says “Now you have two kids right?” but that would just be splitting hairs. The fact of the matter is I already know why he asked what he asked there is no need for him to deny or qualify it. For some people its simple math Black woman + Child = No Daddy. Which to some may mean all sorts of other things like welfare, uneducated, societal drain, crime and poverty but lets just stick to what I asked about.

I am still sort of waiting for him to dust off the two stock responses I am used to hearing which are “I don’t see color” and “Some of my best friends are black”. Sure neither have anything to do with thinking that all black women get knocked by random MIA dudes, but it doesn’t seem to matter really when reaching for the “I’m Not A Racist” defense. I don’t even know that he is racist, he most likely isn’t, but I do know that he hasn’t had much experience with black people in his life, which may be the reason for the funky inappropriate questions. I’ll never be quite sure whether he is completely oblivious to the obvious pitfalls of asking such questions, but I do know that if given the opportunity to ask a similar one in the near future, he may mull it over a moment or two.

Ehhh it is what it is but I am under no obligation to let such things slide or fester. If I need to know something I will just flat out ask, especially if I feel like you’ve made some sort of uninformed judgment about me or those deem to be like me. I would hate to walk around here thinking that folks judge me based on my professionalism and hard work when it may really be about whether or not I was married when I gave birth. That’s something you just cant assume you gotta ask and part of being Avin is being okay with who I am every day. Its asking the tough questions, or maybe being the unpopular kid and certainly its about not being afraid to stand up for myself. So if I make folks tummy’s feel funny along the way then so be it, but like G.I. Joe said, “Knowing is half the battle”.

1/3rd Life Crisis

2007-02-25T21:14:00.000-05:00

I must be having some sort of rebellious episode. If you know me personally you know that I am calmer and more settled than I have ever been in my life these days. I am reasonable, and I don’t usually rush to flip out. These things my friends are new things. New things that the old Avin was not aware existed. Not flipping out is new, compromise is new and not threatening to fight, kill, break bones or burn down things is a HUGE step for me. I have just been calm and it’s been good. It’s something I have gained a lot of pleasure from and I think I have grown leaps and bounds personally.

I say all this to preface my coming statement about rebellion. Folks, I am stifled and I am bored and I want to scream and act a pure fool. I don’t want to wear my hair reasonably, nor do I want to smile and make nice. I want another tattoo, I want to listen to Cypress Hill and La Coka Nostra on 10. I want to watch UFC while putting down a six pack of Miller Lite (bottle please no cans and dont think of offering me a damn glass or a straw) while wearing baggy jeans and timbs. I want my old damn life back and I dont want it to dry up and blow away like its doing. I am mad that I am not louder or faster, or wittier or meaner or just plain more me every damn day that I get a chance. I hate hair dye and concealer and advil after a work out. I want my damn cigarettes back, I don’t want to stop at two drinks and I don’t wanna have to put on moisturizer every damn day of my life. I am turning 31, and I am pissed off. I am becoming my damn mother and it sucks ass. This reasonable reliable Avin that crept in and took over my world is just maddening, and I think I am going on strike.

Maybe it’s a 1/3 life crisis because that would make sense to me. I am at the oldest of my friends but no where near the sanest. Or maybe just maybe I’ve been too reasonable, too sensible, too fucking likable and happy for my own good and I am realizing that perhaps it doesn’t quite fit. It’s like a pair of really cute sensible shoes that cut across the instep and its slowly working on my sanity. So I am on strike against 31, and being a damn sensible doormat. I'll be at the tattoo place if anyone needs me.

Its Hoodtacular!

2007-02-23T15:59:00.000-05:00

My good friend The DJ's Wife posted a quote from Jason Whitlock on the foolishness that is All Star Weekend. See if you agree: "All-Star Weekend can no longer remain the Woodstock for parolees, wannabe rap artists and baby's mamas on tax-refund vacations." I agree with her when she says "Because as long as you have celebrities, athletes and anyone else with money in one place, your going to attract two things: groupies and stick-up boys. And they both have the same mission: to get in them pockets."

By the way my extra ghetto god-sister went this year and frankly when I heard I was no where in the vicinity of shocked. This type of "Gangsta Boo Where Them Dollas At" mentality is right up her alley (and our mothers wonder why we arent better friends) so I am with Mr. Whitlock on that tax-refund vacation situation.

It reminds me of the time my cousin (who frankly is no less ghetto) asked me to go down to the beach with her and our sons. I knew it was a weekend in Myrtle Beach, but what I didnt know was that it was Black Bike Week. I spent the week fending off jackasses trying to touch and video tape me, ignoring cat calls and being real pissed off about wearing a bikini. It was the ghetto at its finest with my 8 year old son watching. I know you are thinking, damn she has a fucked up family and you would be correct. Anyway, there are a few places you arent going to catch me, and All Star Weekend is one of them.

Life 2/07

2007-02-23T10:59:00.000-05:00

Why were the tickets for Wicked in Baltimore so damn high??
Now I have to wait till July to go to Philly and see it. Not that it’s a huge deal to go to Philly, but I really didn’t want to have to wait. I guess only one phenomenal once in a life time concert/production can be seen per year. I got Mariah last year so I shouldn’t be so damn greedy right? Has anyone seen Wicked? I know a friend in NY saw it a year ago and loved it and I have been dying to go ever since.

Ohh and I finally saw Smokin Aces last weekend. Totally worth the price of admission if you like a good action flick. Everyone knows I love action, but I could really skip gore. I was trying to explain this to the boyfriend and he of course was making it seem like one shouldn’t be any different than the other. For instance, I can watch someone in a knife fight but I cant watch folks get cut up in horror flicks. There is a difference. Then we got into the whole what I can and cant watch like Conan vs. Saw. Seriously I don’t do horror EVER. Its designed to freak you out, its not like actual fighting, its just blood and guts. Anyway by the time we finished the discussion I felt like he still didn’t get it and we had been (in the words of my granny) all around Robin Hood’s barn and nothing was resolved. I am still not going to see any horror movies. He has a better chance of getting me to a damn gospel stage play, making me watch a love story or catching me reading a “sista girl” book. Its not gonna happen.

I talked to a good friend of ours yesterday and as I suspected, she is having issues. My friend caters on the side, and frankly she is one of the best damn cooks I know. She has a signature dessert that she makes that everyone loves, and this summer she made one for my mother. Well my mom’s sister (the soft touch one who sees only the good in all others) and her best girlfriend came over and we happened to have this cake. Now the best girlfriend is to put it mildly a snobby, stuck up rich bitch who thinks the world revolves around her…and yes that’s mild. She started going on and on about the damn cake and basically just annoyed the fuck out of us till we gave her my friend’s number. I mind you was STRONGLY against this. I tried everything I could to keep her from getting the number, but in the end her daily calls were finally too much for my mom and she gave in. I never heard anything about her contacting my friend, so I figured as with most things in her life, she got bored with it and decided it wasn’t worth her precious snob ass time.

Fast forward to last night, and I hear that rich bitch has been acting a plum fool to my friend. Trying to get her to deliver the cakes and getting pissy cause her phone calls weren’t returned immediately. Of course this heffa used my mother and I as a reference, so my friend has been unreasonably accommodating to her. I told her she could put the brakes on that shit. That woman doesn’t have my seal of approval, and if she can’t carry her spoiled ass to my friends house to pick up her shit, then she can tell her to kick rocks. I was pissed but not shocked because that’s rich bitch’s M.O. Just bully folks and harass them till you get what you want…but not over a $30 cake, I mean lest get some damn perspective here. If my friend makes me come get my shit, she is certainly not gonna deliver yours. Once I told her not to do rich bitch any more favors, she was quite pleased and said she wasn’t going to do anything else for her. She really doesn’t need the business, and frankly she doesn’t need the hassle either. Cooking is her passion, but it doesn’t pay the bills, and I am glad she isn’t going to entertain any of that ladies foolishness anymore.

Oh and I spent the morning up at my son’s school trying to convince them that I live where I live. This song and dancing gets my thong in a twist cause you cant just make one damn trip up there, its always 3 or 4 to get shit straight. Anyway they want more shit, so now I gotta go back up there next week. When I left that bitchmade security flunky was in the hallway growling at the late kids. Of course he tried to be nice to me, but once you bark at my kid we are always gonna have beef. Frankly I have beef with a couple people in that camp. I am not too particularly keen on the Guidance bitch who acted like I wasn’t speaking plain English on the phone to her, and I didn’t like her tone during the meeting we had either, and yall already know how I feel about that damn English teacher with his college essays and graduate program projects. I do however like the History teacher but I think that’s only cause he is good looking. Sorry I know focus, but seriously he is not too shabby…I wonder who I could hook him up with?

This Is Why I'm Hot.... The Remix Part Deux

2007-02-16T18:42:00.000-05:00

There are a lot of things I have been meaning to blog about, but you know life kinda snuck up on me and hit me with a two by four. Here is the condensed version.

ANS: Please people this is not a 48 hours mystery. She overdosed, she died no need to call Fred, Daphne and the Mystery Machine out of retirement. Give the baby to the grandma, and shut up already. Homegirl was an addict and why anyone is shocked that she died is just crazy.

Snow/Ice Storm: Why is my kid still out of school? Get off your asses and scrape up that ice situation and get people’s power back on. Wednesday happened, can we move on with life or am I going to have to hear the sad sad tale of how the lil kiddies were off another damn day from school?

The Gym: I love my new fancy gym. I love going there, I love my workouts, I love that there is always a treadmill available. I don’t understand some of the people there but that’s not important. What is important is my love for this gym and the Precor Cross trainer. I might go tonight if the old folks bother me.

Extra Child Support: Ex & Fat wife say “Check’s in the mail” yeah right, NEXT!

Makeup: I stumbled upon some extra terrible photos of myself from 2003\sans makeup!!! I was paranoid before but now I am just downright obsessed. I am\nmaking it my life’s mission to never leave the house again without enough\nmakeup on to star in the Broadway Production of Hairspray.

Grammys: Why the hell didn’t Corinne Bailey Rae win anything? I know the exchange with Kanye and Common was staged but I really did need someone to tell him to quit his award show bitchin. Other than that I have no comment.

Formal Event: If the invite says black tie, and its held at the JW Marriott, and the mayor, a local news caster, a former governor and the former mayor of New Orleans show up do not I REPEAT DO NOT show up wearing a Chinese housecoat and no makeup. I MEAN YOU STEP SISTER! Please cut it out with the wick wack snatch back and stop looking like you serve tea over at Silver Palace. Bad enough I gotta talk to your drunk ass husband (crab incident 06 and I aint forgot bitch!) but this is our father’s time to shine and you cant even step up your game? Get it together, learn what black tie means and do not embarrass our dad like that. No wonder “the boyfriend” called you Kung Fu Hustle, NEXT!

Ebony Magazine: Since when does Raven Simone have $400 million dollars?

White Rapper Show/VH1: Damn it why yall get rid of Persia!! She was hella entertaining and starting to grow on me. Now I gotta listen to John Brown’s Halleluiah Hollaback nonsense for at least three more shows, oh and did anyone catch NORE carry the hell out of him and JusTreehugger? Pure Comedy.

ABC TV: LOST please step up your game. Ugly Betty you are doing BIG things. Grey’s please get Meredith’s character a backbone this season already, she is starting to piss me off with the Perils of Pauline act. Men In Trees, can you not have Marin sleep with every damn body in town??

Yep I think that’s all folks, I am sure I will have something else soon, but right now that’s all I can remember to tell yall about. Big ups to Brooklyn….is it obvious how bored I am right now? Have a great weekend!

For All "Intensive" Purposes

2007-02-02T14:13:00.000-05:00

Somehow, someway this damn header on my blog has drawn some confused ass know it all questions from people. I guess if you don’t know me personally you might think I really meant "Intensive" but for the most part, people have gotten the joke. Until recently that is.

I got a funky comment about a week ago from an anonymous fool saying "It's Intents and Purposes you idiot". Shit! Thanks Capitan Obvious, I didn’t realize I was so stupid! I mean seriously this is a blog, do you really get hecklers on this thing? Someone seriously explain that shit to me cause I don’t understand. I know some other bloggers who have gotten some rude comments, so its no completely far fetched however I find it crazy to get your thong in a twist over something said on a random blog. Especially something that is a joke.

I don’t know maybe I have underestimated some of my audience and for those folks um...there is an X in the top right-hand corner that will save you from having to view what you may think is a syntax error. For the rest of you folks who I am sure got the joke, be careful out there! The language police is out and what you might think is funny could be just the thing that sets them off. Good Luck

Dressed In All Black...Like the Omen??

2007-02-02T14:06:00.000-05:00

My mother fears lots of things but as I recently found out, her most prevailing fear is of the occult. Not so much devils and pitchforks per-se but more like abnormal people especially if they wear black clothing and makeup. I grew up with a school full of kids whose idea of rebelling was playing dress up or wearing too much makeup. It doesn’t phase me and I never think “Oh god look at the lip piercing and fingerless gloves, he’ll kill us all” In other words, fishnet tights and rock music have never been enough to fuck with me mentally.

We actually had a huge swearing and door slamming argument that started because the little neighbor boy has decided to be Goth. He was wandering up the street with his black nail polish and eyeliner and I think she just snapped. She was all in a panic about it and she had attempted to tell me about it no less than three separate times that day. I was hoping not to have to go there with her, but she wouldn’t leave it be.

You could tell that she was just distraught and fucked up behind it. In the back of my mind I knew she was having some sort of mental issue, but I chose to ignore it. Looking back on it now I should have just drawn my face in mock panic when she attempted to tell me how awful and terrible his look was. I should have recoiled in horror when she surmised that he would someday shoot up his school complete with trench coat...but I didn't. It was a stupid move on my part.

I tried unsuccessfully to explain that Goth is just another form of expression for today’s youth. Much like our baggy jeans, ripped jeans, tie dye, and punk rock pink hair. It really isn't the occult its more like dress up. But there is no talking to her about what she thinks is devil based. So this evening while watching the International Ballroom Competition (yes I watch PBS) there was one couple that did a sort of Goth-like tango complete with dreaded black eyeliner. She tried to freak out and almost couldn't watch. She just sat there with her mouth hanging open in disbelief. I couldn’t believe she was having the same reaction she had to the neighbor boy. It’s a dance for gods love.

In fact a Revlon commercial for their new Midnight Swirl lip-gloss which is a black cherry-deep red-almost black that when viewed on the seemingly normal model she made a horrified gasp. She said it looked like her mouth was dripping blood. I guess the whole look is just too much for her but frankly I am just confused by her reaction. Its dress up so what is the damn big deal a little black eyeliner doesn’t make the devil go jumping into a person’s body. She isn’t even all that religious which makes this even stranger.

I have tried to chalk it up to her age group and what their particular comfort level is with things that aren’t completely normal, but seriously its just too much even for me to comprehend or apparently discuss with her. The fact that I may have to spend another hour convincing her that kids like that don’t turn into terrorists or that kids who spend time alone don’t suddenly go Goth is more than I want to have to deal with. I think I am going to start slipping her anti-anxiety medication, because her behavior is just getting out of hand.

Confidence?

2007-01-31T17:25:00.000-05:00

There is this message board that I used to frequent that I have since given up on over the last year. The reasons are pretty simple, its full of angry, simpering people with issues and axes to grind. It got out of control years ago, but I stayed, thinking that at some point it might get better. It didn’t, and I bounced. These days I try not to associate myself with things that intentionally irritate, rile or piss me off. The folks on there are welcomed to stay, for my purposes though, its just too damn negative. That’s really not the point of this post, but I do have to give some sort of set up to the story.

In a weak moment a few days ago I decided to skim this den of debauchery and anger, you know wondering if some of my old buddies might be lurking. In fact, the boyfriend’s cousin is on from time to time, and we don’t nearly get a chance to talk enough for my taste. He always has a thought provoking thread or two, and that I really like. Anyway, I came across this posting from a guy that I have only met once in person, but as with message boards, I know more about him than I probably should. He is also a blogger and sometimes I will read what he has to say. He has quite a following from what I gather. In any event, something set him off and he was ranting about women and their body issues. How when we question what we look like or we dont strut around like we rule the place men dont find us sexy, they find us pathetic. The jist of the thing was how what men find sexy is confidence.

I don’t personally have any issues with that assessment, sure confidence is sexy, but I don’t really think men know what real confidence is. I think they believe that the puffed up sex vamp behavior that is clearly a put on is really female confidence. You know, the girl you see wearing her club tops to work with meat squishing everywhere trying desperately to walk like her feet aren’t in two stiletto vices? Yep, her. The one alluding to sex in every convo, the one flirting with every man in the area, or better yet the one tossing her hair and bouncing around like a stripper pole is going to magically spring forth from the ground. Yep, that’s their idea of confidence.

Some of us figured that act out back in 9th grade after a few mini skirts and low cut tops got the guys drooling, but really is that confident or just good acting? I don’t really know any women who go through all that bullshit for themselves. The point he was trying to make is that when we are all just wandering around taking care of business in our homes and families or are concerned that perhaps we have put on a few pounds or desire a new hair style, we are at our lowest level of confidence. That switching and tossing is when we are in command. To him I say in the kindest way I know how, “Go fuck yourself”.

I don’t want to get into this guys illustrious former career in the porn industry, or the fact that his fiancé knows nothing about it and I wont even bother going into how some of that feeds into women’s feelings of not measuring up. I don’t hate porn, but I wont pretend that it doesn’t warp a lot of men’s ideas about women and healthy sexual behavior. I will however address the fact that men are idiots. I don’t know why this continues to boil up every time a woman doesn’t feel good in her skin, but let me tell you we ALL have issues with our self esteem, (ahem penis size) and it goes a lot deeper than confident=sexy.

Back in the days, when I was young and naive, I too thought that if I just whored it up a bit that people would see me as strong and confident. I got a ton of attention, but what I never got for it was self esteem or respect. When I see girls and grown women playing Jessica Rabbit now, the whole scene just reeks of insecurity. I wonder what must she think is so painful and damaging about the real her that she needs to cover it in an obvious disguise? I didnt feel good that way, and I cant imagine that they do either though of course you tell yourself otherwise.

My friend themakeupgirl and I had a discussion about this in regard to Mariah Carey and her choice of outfits. I love Mariah and I am a die hard stan, however when I look at her, I see pain and confusion. We agreed that at a certian age you should have acquired life tools that show you how to be sexy without being naked. She would still be fabulous without all the T&A if she just knew how. She could be very confident in her voice and her writing, but those outfits clearly dont give that impression.

I am confident in my work life, I am confident when I am taking care of my son. I am confident in a pair of jeans or fixing a doorknob. I am probably more comfortable in my own skin than I ever have been and yet if I am not playing Vicky Vamp for a man then I am suddenly not confident. I don’t want to launch into a tirade about it because I am just not sure it even warrants one. I like getting dressed up, I like being cute, but whether or not I am confident shouldn’t be contingent upon my style of dress or my seductive (or lack thereof) behavior. Does anyone else think this is just plain crazy?

I have heard that argument in regard to what is sexy a thousand times. I just know that they aren’t the same thing and I am tired of trying to explain that to men who think the way to confidence is with your face down and your ass up. Women have a lot to contend with, from images, to messages, marginalization and degradation. It occurs every day. We are discounted in our homes, on our jobs, out in the street and then we are supposed to look at ourselves and go, I sure am confident and that means I am sexy.

Men just need to call a spade a spade. If what you mean to say is that a woman who has no inhibitions or doesn’t seem to care that she is either half naked, being ogled, or is being thought of as less than a person because her ass is hanging out then just say you like that. But don’t get it all twisted up with confidence because that is a totally different issue altogether. Real confidence comes from inside and isnt wrapped up in a frilly package all the time, and sometimes its just being you, and loving that you, and yes that is sexy.

As long as we love who we are without pretense or judgement then confidence is there. All the extras are just that...extra. I may wear heels when I feel like it, and I may not always like what I see in the full length mirror, and maybe sometimes I think my comfy jeans and my favorite t-shirt are the sexiest thing I can wear, but I dont lack confidence in fact I am plenty confident, what I am not is an actress.

5 Things You Dont Know About Me...Avinsday Version

2007-01-19T12:32:00.000-05:00

So I got tagged to do 5 things you don’t know about me over at 99 Products, but then I realized that I have a totally different audience here than I do over there and thus a totally different set of things that you guys don’t know about me. Its weird I know, but I also wanted to tag a few folks that don’t read 99 Products such as Bmoresthoughts, Glib Girl, Charcoal Ink, Thedj'swife and 44 Black. Yes I am talking to you guys so get to it.

1. I have always wanted to be different so my hair has been every color under the sun and I used to do things just to mess with peoples minds. Up until I turned 28 I had a tongue ring, a nose ring and several tattoos. I am such a tattoo nut that I used to be a part of a body modification online community. I still have the tattoos and the nose ring (worn infrequently) but the tongue ring had to go. I am still secretly a huge admirer of large interesting tattoos.

2. My 13 year old son is two full inches taller than I am even though he was born 3 months premature. His birth weight was 2lbs 8oz and he was on oxygen and an apnea monitor for the first year of his life, now he is taller than most of the kids in his school.

3. My favorite song in the world is "Let the Beat Hit Em" by Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam. That song has to be almost 20 years old now and every time it comes on I want to get up and dance. You could call it my theme song.

4. I know bits and pieces of a few foreign languages, Spanish being the strongest of them. I actually understand and speak Spanish well enough to get buy but the others are more like "where is the bathroom" in Italian or the numbers from 1-10 in Hebrew. I also understand and speak a little Greek and I am dying to try it out on a trip to the Mediterranean.

5. Almost all of my ex-boyfriends have received a "Dear John" email as their break up notification. Its not cause I am rude, its just because I am so much better on paper. Okay maybe its cause I am rude, but frankly at the point we are parting ways I am really not all that interested in how its done or how you take it. Emails are fast, effective and don’t have that whole messy conversation element to them.

Stop Snitchin

2007-01-17T17:43:00.000-05:00

Why is there always one office snitch? You know the one. The one girl who is always listening to your conversation, or the guy who claims not to like several people in the office and then you see them chatting out in the hall. Well every office has one. Call them the big mouth, call them the gossip, I just call em, office snitch.

There is one particular person in my office who stays dry snitchin every day. How do I know? Well this particular snitch is always minding everyones business other than their own. They are quick to say what you have been doing all day but you cant even figure out what they been up to. They are always sneeking looks at your damn computer screen, or listening in on your phone conversations. My snitch always smiles just as I catch them ear hustling its very unnerving.

Today the snitch was actually hold up behind closed doors with a person that the snitch has on MANY occasions said they cannot stand. They have spent countless hours complaining about said individual, but thats not really important because the snitch hates EVERYONE. Or at least they think that no one is working as hard as they are. Then you see them pop up talking to the higher ups, or kissing butt. Its not like the higher ups dont know that who the office snitch is, but I guess they have to entertain all that nonsense just to be fair.

After commiserating with the one person they talk the most shit about, the snitch quickly switched gears and started bitching about someone else with them standing not 20 feet away. That's a pretty damn bold move, I mean what if the person overheard them? Where I come from, that shit will get you hurt or beat down in the parking lot after dark. I couldnt figure out if the snitch was out to gather more information on the person or to find out more alleged dirt about others. Anyway it was unsettling, and I started thinking about that whole ghetto nonsense with the "Stop Snitchin" T-shirts which is nothing like this but did make me giggle just a little. What if I printed up a whole mess of those shirts with the big red stop sign except they looked like this:

So what do you think? You could customize your company in the blank. I wonder if the office snitch would wear one? Probably just wait to see who wears it and run and tell the boss.

Fashion Missteps at The Golden Globes

2007-01-16T16:42:00.000-05:00

Some folks just need a come to Jesus meeting when it comes time for an awards show. Time and time again there are folks who just cant get it right and then there are folks who usually get it right and then forget to make that oh so important left turn at Albuquerque. I lot of folks got it right this year but let me just point out a few that didnt.

Take for instance Cameron Diaz. I know one thing she wont be bringing back this year...Justin.
She looks like she got attacked by a disgruntled costume designer for Gone With the Wind. There are more ruffles on that thing than at southern cotillion...and get some bronzer already for the love of Mike!

I love me some Meryl Streep...however she was looking extra frumpy last night. Exhibit A clearly shows her wearing a large sack with some twine wrapped around it. As for her makeup, she needs to get the makeup team from The Devil Wears Prada on retainer, cause the patch and spackle job they did for her on that film was flawless.

Then there is Vanessa Williams who Dia lovingly referred to as The Cowardly Lion. I don’t know, it looks like she got a hold of one of Beyonce's old "Work it Out" wigs to me. Lets not even discuss that fur. I mean honestly she is beautiful and all that extra hair and fur are just doing way too much.

Speaking of Beyonce, homegirl's homage to Flavor of Love was just disturbing. By the way chica you can lay off the grease, you are going to the Golden Globes not the Golden Gloves. There is just no reason to be that shiny and slippery looking. themakeupgirl wanted to smack her, but I told her all that grease would just make her slide off.

Monday Ignorance Televised

2007-01-09T16:59:00.000-05:00

I don’t know that I love NY, but this show is some comedy. As a full fledged reality TV addict, I am excited to see what happens on this show full of rejects. From what I’ve seen so far its full of rejects. The show started last night but I had been taking peeks at the previews for a month, and let me tell you it’s a hot ass mess. New York looks like a drag queen, and her mother…all I can say is wow. Whoever decided to name this broad Sister Patterson was truly off the mark, aint a damn thing church going about her.

99.5% of the dudes on this show are gay or DL and if they aint gay they are just bammas and cornballs. The best thing on that show is Chamo, who is NY’s stylist and perrrrr-sonAL assistant. I am hoping he is going to get lucky on this show, I mean why not bet on a horse that has a chance of actually winning. No pun intended on the horse/NY weave situation. Anyway, I actually lost brain cells watching that trash, but sometimes its good to remind yourself that life isn’t that serious.

Then as if I couldn’t kill anymore of my brain in an evening, I watched The White Rapper Show. Yes, yes I know don’t start. I don’t expect it to be any less ignorant than ILNY. I don’t care, go write to Jessie if you are mad about it. I don’t even know what to make of this show other than to say that it was pure comedy. The personalities are just insane, its like watching Making the Band all over again except Chopper is screaming “Ghetto Revival” every three minutes instead of “C-H-O-P-P….” anyway you understand its just as annoying. I understand brand marketing but damn, if you don’t know what you are talking about, then neither does anyone else.

There were/are some promising folks on there…none of the women mind you. Persia isn’t terrible but she can’t take down anyone but the other women and that King of the Burbs idiot. Who coincidentally bitched up the second Persia started in on him, which is never a good sign. I am positive there will be more fights but I hope Persia leaves her “sidekick” in her luggage next time.

Neither of the other two girls have it in them to stick around…and looks like next week the British girl (who couldn’t rap her way out of a hefty bag) is gonna start screwing one of the contestants. Damn, can yall be in the house 5 min? There was a twist ending that I didn’t see coming which kind of made me wonder about what the hell Search and Ego-Trip are doing with these delinquents but never mind the point is not to make sense, its to entertain and I am wholly entertained. I cant promise I will do a review of this chicanery but I might check in from time to time when it gets interesting or there is another fight….shit I might be doing a review of this thing after all.

100% USDA Grade A Bitch

2007-01-09T09:05:00.000-05:00

So my stepbrother darkened our damn doorstep last night. I don’t know why he even bothers to visit. He is the phoniest bastard on the planet with all his "heeeyyy Avin" and shit. I think he only continues to do that cause I seem to be the only one in the family not completely snowjobed by his fake ass ways. I don’t fuck with him, I don’t talk to him, and I don’t have to. Basically, he is a con artist. Always has been from the time he was young, and even though we weren’t really young together, (there is a decent 10 year age gap) nor did we grow up in the same household, I have always known that he wasn’t about shit.

At 20 he came to live with us and proceeded to treat our house like his own personal Playboy mansion. I would come off the bus to him hustlin some bitch with a bad weave out of the house or trying to clean up the Jacuzzi area or just basically acting a monkey. I didn’t tell on his ass most times, even when I caught him and Fonceilia (yes you read that right) in his room. I was like 10 so what the fuck did I really care?

Then shit started going missing around the house. Little shit like alarm clocks and irons then it started being big shit like checkbooks and drivers licenses and jewelry. I came home one day to a knock down drag out fight between he and dad and he didn’t return after that.

Then the bounced checks started rolling in, and they informed us that he had been picked up for passing bad checks with some dude using my dad's checkbook and ID. That was his first trip to the clink. He got out, took up with some new girl with an equally stupid name and proceeded to hand out invitations to his wedding at his sister's (not me) wedding reception! Him and Kikoko or Misono or whatever the fuck her name was were being mad ignorant with it too, not that handing out invites at a reception isn’t ignorant already.

Then he and Mykiko or whatever, split up and we get a call that he is back at the "gated community" for credit card fraud. Anyway from there it was just a string of shit, gambling debts and jail, stealing from his mother and jail, robbing someone on the street for their company bank deposit and jail of course. That time the cops came banging on our door and who should they get but me. I don’t know jack about my stepbrother other than he is a thief and a con, so all that D.O.B, current address, height and weight shit was lost on me. I gave them my dad's number at work and went back to bed (fuckin 7 am and I worked nights) I didn’t have time for that shit. Then he lost his mind and did the ultimate, this fool robbed a damn bank. Why they didn’t set the jail on top of him and throw out the key is beyond my comprehension, but he got somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 years, I think he only served 5. Fucking bootleg justice system.

So he reappeared from his "stay" and everyone started acting like he was all good again. I of course know better, but you know all that debt paying and shit had them confused. My dad let him stay with us AGAIN. This was during that year where my ex-husband was in Korea, and I worked at a job that paid me cash. I let them know early that if one dollar was missing out of my money that I would call the cops before he could finish saying his new girlfriend's name.

Anyway, he came and went without incident and managed to take up with this 19 year old girl and get her pregnant almost immediately. Poor thing, I shudder to think about that poor little girl and her mother sometimes. So he got a job working for his mother AGAIN, because he is too good to do work that doesn’t require him to wear a suit and tie everyday (non degree havin asshole) and his mommy is rich. She pays for his car and his apartment and his child support and he uses his paycheck to gamble and impress stupid women.

So I didn’t hear much about or from him for a long time, till he showed up unannounced at the house one day and managed to find a way to finally try and con me out of my cash. He parked his shit can vehicle right up under the spare tire on my Rav4 and I didn’t realize how close he was as I was leaving. I "TAPPED" his car producing zero damage. This is where I fucked up. I told him I tapped the car. Con artist must have seen dollar signs and started immediately bitching about how his hood was damaged.

Now, the car was a joke to begin with, so I don’t even know how he managed to pull that off with my dad, but some how he did! He convinced dad that it would cost $800 to fix his hood from the damage I supposedly caused. Dad wrote the body shop a check and proceeded to ask me to refund his money. My mother actually wound up paying it which had I known she was going to do, I would have begged her not to. I couldn’t afford to pay that clown $800 for a non existent scratch. Well, I coulda gave him $20 a month for 3 years but didn’t even see how that was fair.

6 months later we are going to his grandmother's funeral, and Con-job is following us when I notice something interesting. There hasn’t been any body work done to his shit can car. Not one bit. I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to get that money from the body shop dad wrote the check out to. I wouldn’t have been so mad about it, but that fool was planning on robbing me like that and instead robbed my mother! I pointed that shit out too. I wanted everyone to know they had been had yet again.

So another year or so passes and that bitch shows up at the house with his new flavor of the week woman. Yet another attempt to impress a bitch with shit you don’t own, but never mind all that. This asshole actually has the balls to bring up the car incident and talk about how I destroyed the hood of his car. Yall can already guess how this went cant you?

I lost my fucking mind. Seriously, if I coulda fought him I would have right there but instead I commenced to cussing his ass out and rolling out every last one of his con jobs, arrests and misdeeds in front of Quintessha or whoever. I let loose on his ass and I cant even tell you how many bitches and motherfuckers he was that night. I think he really believed he had gotten away with it and no one knew. I set his ass straight on that shit, and I let him know then that he might be able to fool everyone else, but I knew he was a bitch and a thief from way back and he would never get another fucking dime out of me or my mother, trust and believe. I even added for good measure that he should go cry to mommy about how mean I was to him, maybe she would pay an extra month of his rent at 35 years old. I know, cruel but necessary.

After that I washed my hands of him. I don’t engage in conversation with him, I don’t have need to be in the same room with him, and I damn sure don’t give a fuck about nothing that happens with or to him. We are done, and I am good on him forever. Oh yeah I think that was the visit he stole more checks from my father and had his account bouncing again to the tune of $2000. If I had to bet I would say something was missing from the house on last nights visit too, but I cant call it. They wanna keep pretending he isn’t a thief or a liar, then that’s on them, but he has no more times to mess with me. None.

Black Folks And Weight Loss

2007-01-08T14:25:00.000-05:00

I don’t know what it is about trying to lose weight in a black family but it is far from easy to do. I wont say all, because I have a bunch of girlfriends who’s families constantly pressure them to slim down, but for a lot of us changing the way you live isn’t the biggest hurdle its overcoming the influence of your family.

I had an incident this weekend where I immediately became the “diet villain” when I had a hypoglycemic attack. I am hypoglycemic, so I am well aware that I need to eat with more frequency than the average person, but this time it wasn’t my fault. This time I was attempting to help someone put together a massive Sleep Number bed and had mentioned not once but twice that it was time for me to stop and get something to eat. I was ignored. They just kept right on working while I became increasingly sick. I finally just deserted them and went downstairs for some juice (against my damn diet plan) and a glucose tablet. Suddenly I am a jackass for letting it get that far.

Granted I could have left them when I first mentioned I was hungry and fading, but I figured that since they all harp on me about eating constantly, they would understand that I wasn’t just being greedy and I needed to eat. Nope, no one got it. So while I am sitting at the foot of the stairs, sweating profusely and feeling dizzy, I hear them (them being my mother, my father and “the boyfriend”) talking about how irresponsible I am about my own health.

Now for my mother this has everything to do with what this diet allows you to eat. She basically doesn’t believe in this whole cutting out carbs bit, so to her my diet is just stupid and dangerous. Granted, it might be both of those things if I didn’t eat other things to keep me energetic and full, but to say its cause I am not eating carbs is just crazy.

For “the boyfriend” its about losing my figure. The figure I cant stand mind you. The one where I huff and puff and squeeze myself into jeans that should fit, or skirts that used to fit. Everyone knows that black men like curves, and I am not talking about doing away with my curves, but basically so what if want to lose weight? I don’t like being thick and uncomfortable if I can be thin and happy. I know this sounds rude but really, its not about him or his preference about my body.

When we met I was a 4 and he was liking it just fine, now suddenly I am not right unless I am a damn 12? Get the fuck outta here with that. Seems like he can go to the gym every night and beat himself into a new size but if I do it I am suddenly Nicole Ritchie and attempting to starve myself. The thing that really upsets me about that is that at some point thick becomes fat, and the whole conversation might turn into how I have managed to let myself go which I have heard men say about women numerous times.

So I was then forced and by forced I mean brow beaten into eating a bowl of beans and rice, also not on the aforementioned diet plan which made me angrier than I have been in a long ass time since what I asked for was an apple and some of the left over chicken in the fridge to get my blood sugar level elevated. Then I was made to feel like a jackass again for not promising to quit the diet altogether.

This my friends is no isolated incident. Every attempt I have ever made to lose weight has been met with distain and ridicule. I have been chastised for not putting sour cream on a potato. I have been yelled at for not wanting fried chicken in favor of baked, I have gotten rolling eyes and shaking heads when I say I am going to go run. I have even been given excuses why I shouldn’t exercise and trust me they are all stupid and just plain crazy so I won’t mention what was said about it. I have also had immediate family tell me that I am “not supposed to look like that anyway” that I guess being thin.

This isn’t just my mother, this is aunts and uncles and grandmothers and family friends who all think the minute you embark on a diet you are turning your back on your blackness. Suddenly being curvy isn’t good enough, or you are making some sort of statement about their health. I am doing neither, I just want to be happy in my clothing.

My mother constantly complains about her size, yet she isn’t going to do a damn thing to change it. She wont change her diet, she wont work out and she just expects it to magically fall off. When I take a proactive approach however, I am being stupid or irresponsible.

Its not just me either, one of my best girlfriends catches shit every time she gets back on the wagon, yet they have no problem patting her on the hips and asking what she has been eating. Another friend has a totally unsupportive husband who actually mocks and belittles her diet, even doing things such as bringing fatty foods home to eat in her face. I am sure they have all been told how dumb they are too. I just wish folks understood that wanting to look good isn’t stupid and having the guts to do something about it is far from irresponsible. I don’t know why dieting is such an affront to your family members if you are black?

So for all parties involved (who don’t read this damn thing anyway since it also falls under the stupid and crazy catagory) and who think that its stupid for me to want to lose weight or I don’t know how to help myself. I want you to know that I am just fine and I am going to continue my diet. I have managed to live on this earth for 30 years without doing myself any real harm and I will continue to live the way I see fit. I don’t need any of your nagging, neck wagging, eye rolling or snide comments thank you, and I don’t give a flying fuck why you think its important to chastise me about it. Worry about your own damn lives and let me live mine and stop trying to screw with my happiness. I was black before I started this diet, and I will still be black long after, and its time for you all to grow up. Go listen to Fiona Apple’s song Extraordinary Machine, and maybe you will figure out that I am not quite as helpless as you all wish I was.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T What The Hell Does That Mean For Me??

2007-01-05T22:30:00.000-05:00

I swear there is no justice in this world. I've been slowly realizing that lately. I mean, I always knew shit was generally fucked up but recent developments have made that reality glaringly clear.

Ever since I moved home I have been realizing just how spoiled my son is when he is here. Beyond all the video game BS and the fridge stocked with all sorts of teen goodies, and his ability to pretty much come and go through the neighborhood at will, there is the issue of his damn room. Now the room is always a mess, but that’s a teenager thing, not a spoiled kid thing. What I speak of in terms of his room is his ability to basically hold up in there like Osama.

I get home from work about 6:30 every night and I never have to wonder where he is cause his ass is in his room. Door locked, chillin. Not doing homework, not interacting with his grandparents, just chillin in his damn room doing god knows what. Now 90% of that time is spent watching the damn cartoon network. This I know because he can recite every show that was on and discuss at length what went on in these shows, but that’s not the fucking point. The point is basically that he has been afforded a level of privacy that I am just not able to attain.

A 13 year old! I mean it boggles the mind. My mother NEVER goes in his room, she just calls for him at the foot of the stairs and he either comes down...or doesn’t. Now that in and of itself infuriates me because when I was his age if my mother called me I better haul my yellow ass downstairs in a fuckin hurry. See my mother is old school in the way that if she decides that she needs you, and she decides to either whisper it, yell it or even think it, you best get your ass to her attention. This old-school attitude however has not translated to my son. This lil bamma can do just about anything he feels, and if she calls him, its merely a suggestion and not an order.

This of course totally undermines my authority and if I happen to call him or mean business then I am being harsh. In addition, while his room is completely off limits mine seems to sustain more foot traffic than Grand Central Station. Every night I come home someone has been all up in my room, just touching shit. Shit is moved, or missing or askew every fucking day of my natural life. EVERYDAY. Its ri-gotdamn-diculous! Now I am not a neat freak, and I understand that this is her home, but for all intents and purposes, the room I sleep in should be my damn room. Free of foot traffic and prying eyes and touching hands.

For instance, every day I come home this damn chair is back in front of my TV. All my lil beauty products have been moved about, and lets not even get into the closets. My closet is forever being re-arranged by someone who aint me. Then there is this god awful lamp, whose purpose I have yet to decipher. Its just there, and though I managed to shove it into a corner, it always winds up somewhere in the middle of the damn floor or blocking access to my dresser. Shit is just fucked up consistently. There is no "I had to go in your room for xyz" there is no warning, just total access all day every day.

I am one of those folks who knows what they touched and when, so when I get home and all my shit is fucked up or moved around yet again I know it sure as fuck wasn’t me that did it. Not to mention that the Comcast idiots, in an attempt to remedy our internet issues, went and put the damn router in my room. They did finally move it, but not before they rifled through all my shit and unplugged my damn Tivo. I swear there is nothing sacred, private or off limits about my damn life.

It wouldn’t be so damn bad if I could find my shit once its been moved. That shit to me is insane. I put things in places that work for me not for visitors. If my bills are on the desk then I want them right there on the desk, not in a shoebox on the floor under my bed. Yet the boy has dishes, glasses, phones, a computer with internet and a locked door that is treated like the quarantine ward at the hospital.

But when I speak up or try to correct it I am wrong. Its hard as fuck trying to keep peace in this place, cause my issues with him turn into fights with his grandparents who seem to think their darling little cherub can do no wrong. I mean am I so wrong for wanting my own privacy and trying to get my son to spend less time hold up in his room? Half the time living here is like prison with better food. I get chastised for not eating the prepared meal and wanting to (heaven forbid) buy my own damn meal. I get shit on for wanting to actually leave the house one day out of the weekend to see "the boyfriend" and I have to report my comings and goings like I am on fucking work release. Someone explain it to me, cause I don’t get it. I thought I was afforded some type of respect at this age but I guess that just doesn’t happen when your ass moves home.

The Return of No White Stuff

2007-01-02T08:44:00.000-05:00

Okay so the new year is here and I am going back on my Oprah Bootcamp No White Stuff diet. For those that don't know, I decided to do this during the summer with great results. I lost 20lbs even though I wasn't able to keep up with the rigorous workouts. There are 8 in a week and though my math sucks, I am smart enough to know that means I have to work out twice in a day. I have enough trouble trying to work out every day of the week.

Anyway it works, but its not partcularly fun, but I have a decent amount to time to get down to my fighting weight and I am more aware of the pitfalls, cravings and hallucinations. Sugar deprivation is by far the worst so I need to have enough snacks on hand to combat my cravings.

I also need to eat enough food to make it from one meal to the next. Lots of different fruit helps and so does water. Also, making sure that you aren't stuck eating something you know you shouldn't when you are starving is important too. That's how you wind up drinking lemonade or eating a can of beefaroni instead of a salad or veggies.

So I of course will be charting my progress here along with thedjswife and Dia who are also back on board. Themakeupgirl is also joining in with a slight modification to her plan that includes some whole wheat. I am anxious to see how the next month turns out so wish us luck!

I also meant to mention that if any of my fellow bloggers or readers want to join in I will send you all the information and I will add you to the group. The more the merrier I say!

Lies

2006-12-30T12:01:00.000-05:00

You ever just know folks are making shit up? Uggh the amount of frivolous liars on this planet is crazy. Take for instance these classic scenarios. I know that you all know these classic liars so if one seems familiar just drop me a line.

The Expert

The Expert is the guy or girl who knows Every.Fucking.Thing. There is never a situation or experience that the expert has not been involved in. For instance, the Expert may have had every job known to man, perhaps the expert was a war hero, a CEO, pro athlete, world traveler chief, cook, bottle washer and the Guinness book of world records holder for every record over the last ten years.

Now, the Expert may have actually been involved in or around some of these activities. The Expert may even know pertinent information that is important to the credibility of said stories. However, if you listen closely to the experts many stories, inconsistencies begin to appear. Dates and names, and especially places all seem muddled.

You can't be in 15 places at the same time. You can't work a 6 figure job in the states and be in Lithuania, Japan, Germany, and Korea, be an army ranger, play for the local Pro Football team all while in college. You also can't be a former professional model, dance for a ballet company, have dated or slept with 15 celebrities, get your degree in computer science, help out your adoptive parents and 8 siblings while being a bi-sexual mother of two with MS.

The Expert is usually easy to spot, he or she is always the first to pipe up and tell a story even when no one asked.

The Embellisher

The Embellisher isn't an expert and doesn't profess to be one. The embellisher only wishes to make their personal story greater. The Embellisher loves to be known as the person with the greatest story of all time. Say this liar went to London on vacation. Well instead of just doing the normal tourist retelling of their trip the Embellisher adds that not only did they get to see Buckingham Palace, but that they had tea with the queen and were invited to dinner with Muhammad Al Fayed after watching the prince play polo with his sons.

Perhaps the Embellisher got a present. Suddenly the present isn't just a ring or a bracelet but a one of a kind jewelry set from Tiffany or David Yurman presented on a stack of 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets by a man driving the new Maybach. Now you will never see any evidence of these unbelievable activities and once the story is told it might change 3 or 4 times after its first retelling. The thrill for the Embellisher is not the proof mind you but the story itself. The ability to make yourself larger than life is worth the stares and incredulous stares. No one ever believes the Embellisher, but that's not the point.

The No Point Liar

This is the person that has no idea they are lying after a while. They lie about shit that makes zero sense to lie about. Like what they ate or where they are or where they might go later. The No Point Liar hasn’t got any real reason for lying so it’s baffling why they do it. You'll call them as they are riding down the street wind blowing in the background and they will say "Yep I am just watching TV and getting ready to go to bed". Things that are just stupid that no one in their right mind even cares about. Who cares if you ate a burrito or a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner? No Point doesn’t even enjoy the art of a lie, in fact they don’t even know they are doing it.

Factoid

This is perhaps the most creative liar of them all. Factoid jumps in when there is a need for an explanation. Mind you the explanation is ALWAYS wrong. Factoid is creative and wants nothing more than to be the brightest guy in the room. Factoid knows the correct distance to the sun, the speed at which light travels, the exact type of concrete used to pour flooring, the legal system by heart, the birthplace of obscure jazz musicians, the origins of hip-hop music, the type and brand of lace front wig that Tyra Banks wears, and the correct nationality for every person born between 1972 and 2006.

Factoid knows EVERYTHING and nothing. This type of liar is so easy to spot its comical. Life is like a Mad Libs book for the Factoid, it’s just a matter of filling in the blanks with what sounds correct. I wrote about a Factoid early on who knows everything from breast feeding to soul food. Only a complete fool or the Expert would fall for this type of BS. The Expert loves an opportunity to chime in and say "I did that too" so it’s easy to see why these two would get along so well.

Folks just love to lie and why I will never know, but if you recognize a liar feel free to call them out. I have decided that calling folks out is what's hot for the 07, and I am going to start with a few Experts.

Lil Wayne Returns and So Does Christmas

2006-12-19T09:18:00.000-05:00

It aint my birthday but I got my name on the cake. Sorry I just wanted to say that.

I am starting to be annoyed and frankly with it being Christmas time I don’t like it when folks start fucking with my Christmas Joy. I love the holidays and I anyone who Humbug's my Christmas might get cut with something rusty. I am serious about it, don’t fuck with my Christmas Joy.

Seriously, I am going to have to stop allowing anonymous comments if this assclown doesn’t quit posting that nonsense on my blog. It was amusing the first time but now I am annoyed, so let me just address it and be done.

No, I didn’t fucking read it
No, I wont fucking read it
No, you wont get any more airtime on my damn blog
No, I don’t give a fuck what it said or what you hope to accomplish by doing it.

Please I am asking nicely (and anyone who knows me knows that is a fucking stretch of the highest order) leave my comments section alone.

With that said I would like to return to my Christmas Joy.

I am a Holiday person, I just happen to be a Baptist so that means I celebrate Christmas, BUT hold on now there. I love the holidays period. I don’t care if you celebrate Kwanzaa or Hanukkah or any other derivative thereof. I am all for it. Roll out the decorations and bring on the food and family and fellowship. This is what I love about the season itself.

Now I know you are thinking how odd it must be that I am a complete cynic all year round and then December rolls around and I get a soft heart. Well, its strange but true. I love Christmas music (but not that jazzed up crap) some old and some new. The season for me hasn’t fully started until I hear three songs. Let it Snow by Boys II Men, All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey, and Santa Claus is Coming to town by Pleasure (its a defunct go-go group).

I am the queen of gift giving and I love to see peoples faces light up and enjoy their surprises. I love angels, and cards, and peppermint and cookies and everything in between. Yes folks Christmas is SERIOUS business for me.

I live for charity events like visiting the Holiday Coalition out at on of my properties. That was amazing and just filled me with the spirit of the season. I went hunting for the perfect gift for the child who's name I picked off the tree here in the office. I was so excited to wrap it on Sunday night I could hardly contain myself. My closet is stuffed to the gills with gifts for everyone I could think of, including a special gift for the dog.

Saturday I went up to "the boyfriend's" and helped him decorate the tree. We got a bunch of special ornaments from Pier One, and we drank wine and listened to music that had NOTHING to do with Christmas, but it was so much fun. He used to be a real scrooge but I try to get him to experience the magic of the season by spending time with family and friends. He was actually excited about the tree this year, but he would deny it if you asked him.

I have a recipe for a white hot chocolate that I am going to make for everyone this weekend. After I stop past the liquor store and Best Buy I will be officially finished and I can move on to my pot luck recipe for tomorrow's gift exchange!

Wheeewww! I didn’t realize its only 6 days till Christmas! Are you ready?

Oh My Side!

2006-12-18T15:35:00.000-05:00

I officially quit Justin Timberlake.
I have been laughing all day about this SNL nonsense. I am going home, my sides hurt.

Merry Christmas

I dont think I can ever forgive him for these two either.

More Confusing Than Lil Wayne Lyrics

2006-12-14T20:00:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I get anonymous comments all the time. Some are cool, some are rude as fuck, and others....well then there are others like the one I got this evening. I just happened to be checking my gmail account when I stumbled upon an unmoderated comment (yes I do moderate comments and now I remember why) on Avin's Day.

It was in the topic "Just Catching Up" and I figured, oh great I have some unsolicited opinion on whether or not black comedians should be using the N word. Just what I want after a long day of driving and meeting and paying tolls. In a way I was thinking YES hate mail! Finally something to argue about that doesn’t involve the improper installation of a retail sign. I know, I know, I am weird as hell, but part of me is convinced that no one but my closest friends read this thing, and if there are others they are only reading up on me for a case study or something. Probably titled "What Crazy Looks Like" by Random Grad Student.

Anyway, man was I wrong! Some wingnut went and posted a damn dissertation in my comments about drawing disfavor from "the gods" and some other shit riddled with grammatical errors, typos and a severe under use of the enter button.

I gotta admit I did try to read it cause I wanted to see what side of the fence this lunchbox was sitting on, but frankly I gave up after the 80th run on sentence I was just fucking confused and bewildered. Really, its the strangest thing I have ever seen, and I am quite sure judging just by its length its a copy paste job, but someone had to write this nonsense initially. Anyway, I don’t have the energy to read the rest, I am about 1 cup of tea away from passing smooth out. Maybe one day if I am super bored or need to confuse myself for fun I will read it, but I just cant address it.

Anyone interested in reading this dissertation hit me up. I cant guarantee you that you'll understand it, or even be able to read it let alone complete it, but if you just gotta sleep and you need something stronger than Ambian and a Rubik’s Cube, I will forward it. It covers everything from AIDS in Africa to female genital mutilation, the crack epidemic to gang membership, black-on-black violence, Hip-Hop, Classic Rock, poverty, homosexuality, women, men, and anything else that might anger "the gods".

There s just confusion, and frankly I would argue...but I really just don’t understand it.

I am going the hell to bed, Good Night.

Sweet Escape My Ass

2006-12-03T22:05:00.000-05:00

Would someone please explain to me what is going on with Gwen Stefani? I mean, I didnt discuss it when she went on the AMA's dressed like a gold lame Gretel, but I probably should have addressed it right then and there. Can I just have a moment of silence for the girl who made me sing "Trapped in A Box?"

Okay I am better now, but seriously someone hit me up. Call me, email me drop me a line and explain to me how you use a sample from the sound of music and yodel on your first single? I know she is trying to be edgy, I know that she is working with "lemme sing your hook" Skateboard P. but was there no one with the nuts to tell her that this was crazy?

Wind it Up is about the scariest single since that Popozao debacle FedEx put out. I really wanted to love it, and I wanted to support Gwen on her second solo outing, but when she broke into the yodling I stopped feeling bad about hating "Hollaback Girl". I am starting to fear that having that baby has robbed her of all common sense. I mean poor little Kingston, listening to his mommy yodel on record and thinking "Daddy better get Bush back together or we are screwed". At least thats what I would be thinking about now.

Then last night she was back on my damn TV on the Billboard awards in that one-piece gingham overall set with a live fucking sheep. I seriously have no words.

Just Catching Up

2006-12-03T10:32:00.000-05:00

Sheesh I am tired as all hell. Last night was the office Holiday Party and we all had a great time. I am going to try and keep it brief as my homegirl has mentioned specifically that I not go too far in detail....but damn do I want to!!!

I do however feel like I got shorted a day on my weekend. Not that I don’t love the folks at my job, but when I just saw yall Friday, and then I see you Saturday and I only get Sunday to slow my brain, recuperate and think of anything but work...I feel shorted. Noting that my homegirl is going to give me shit about this one. Anyway, Christmas is coming and I have a ton of shit to do and no where near enough time or money to get it done. I think this happens every year but honestly I don’t really remember much these days. I actually started dreaming about work and that is never a good sign.

There was only one thing I wanted to address that’s been a recent head scratcher. Exactly who is calling for black comedians to stop using the "N" word? I am confused. First, I know that KKKramer isn’t really trying to say that because he hears this word from the likes of Paul Mooney, Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle that he got confused about it and thought it was okay to say it. I KNOW that’s not really his defense.

Second, I am not condoning the use of it, but if we are going to be real here lets just be real. Black people use that word, and it’s really not a secret. In our own families, in our own company yes, we use it and no it doesn’t mean the same thing. Maybe you are going to tell me "I don’t use it" well maybe you don’t but I bet your uncle or your grandma or your homeboy or someone in your circle does. I don’t know a black family that doesn’t have one soul in it who never said it. I won’t argue spelling or semantics I am just saying it exists amongst us for totally different reasons.

The point of this basically is the question, are we (as a whole) really taking responsibility for other people using this word?? Is it suddenly black people's faults that we are called racist names? I am fucking confused because that in my opinion is crazy. First that word wasn’t our creation, second when we flipped it and made it something else we didn’t do it for the benefit of others, third our use of it comical or otherwise has not and will not make it okay for others to use period. I know this is actually going to upset some folks but lets just get it into perspective, some shit is a cant for some people.

I just think it’s completely ridiculous to be put in a position of blame for this racist tirade. Mooney never condoned lynching when he said it so this "Black comedians have got to stop using the word" BS is just too much for me. How about you round up all the comedians who are confused about it, who think maybe its okay to say it and who have ill intentions by using it and you sign them to some sort of agreement, but quit harassing Chris Rock already. I already know he isn’t going to stop and frankly I don’t think he should have to. The distribution of blame is amazing in America and some how it’s always someone else’s fault.

Borat who?

2006-11-27T09:46:00.000-05:00

Déjà vu seriously go see it. Its been a long time since I actually liked a movie enough to sit in a crowded ass theater on opening weekend and endure the hot ghetto mess that is Arundel Mills Mall. We decided to have dinner over at Chevy’s which was good. The boyfriend was already looking at me like it was a major mistake to go there for a 9pm movie with Ray-Ray and Uzi Clip but since we haven’t had a date night in months, he decided to risk it.

We did have a few irritants of course, like homegirl in the seat in front of me who was at very least 400lbs and talking on two cell phones at the same time. The Boyfriend leaned over to me at one point and said “I don’t care who that bitch is, she don’t need two damn phones and she aint that damn important” which caused me to snort my sprite through my nose. Of course she never heard me coughing though cause she was too busy yacking through the opening credits. It’s a testament to how good this movie is that she actually shut up and paid attention.

Was it “Man on Fire” good? Not quite, but was directed by the same guy, so it has that same feel to it. Tony Scott has a real knack for capturing scenes. It’s a different way of seeing that most of us just don’t think about. It really sets his movies apart from others.

I think Denzel did a great job (as usual) and I even liked a fatter Val Kilmer. It was great to see Erica Alexander again and Paula Patton did a fabulous job in her role. I think for a newcomer she is really about to do some really big things. In fact she and her husband are both doing big things this year. Her husband being Robin Thicke who’s CD I love so dearly.

So before I go on a Robin Thicke tangent, I will just stop there and say go see Déjà vu cause its totally worth it.

360 Degrees

2006-11-24T11:44:00.000-05:00

Its easy to forget that karma really does exist sometimes. For years I have thought that karma was something that folks who got the short end of the stick said to make themselves feel better after getting screwed. I never really thought that the screwer got what they deserved in the end. Well, with the exception of the "I'll believe it when I see it" ideas I have about my exhusband ever getting a tiny scrap of the horror and evil he dished out to me and his son, I am pleased to report that indeed some things do come full circle.

Take for example one of my family members. He shall remain nameless because I am never really sure if anyone in my family reads this. Anyway, this particular family member tormented me for dating and marrying a white man from the time I was 13 until long after my divorce. I was told to "become white" my son was referred to as a "half breed" and I endured countless years of just general bullshit and snide comments associated with the fact that I had the audacity to date, marry and procreate with a white man. These comments have caused my mother to disown, and cuss out this particular individual, but lets not get stuck on that, lets get to the karma portion.

Fast forward, this particular family member who has a child older than my child and this child is actually a grown adult now in the process of embarking on a very lucritive career. VERY LUCRITIVE. The racist ass family member is and has been pleased as punch with the prospect of his child's earning potential. What this family member wasnt particularly pleased with was his child's choice of girlfriend. A lil white girl from Boston. Anyway, Wednesday evening we got a phonecall stating that not only was this girl 5 months pregnant BUT everyone has known for months with the exception of racist family memeber and wife. That ladies and gentlemen is karma.

When I heard I actually burst into laughter. I figure it couldnt have happened to a nicer guy and now all those years of ridicule I endured will finally mean something. Sometimes when you refuse to learn the lesson that god presents to you, he finds another way for you to learn it. I am sure it wont be easy and I am sure that his son now has to think about how important his career is or how he plans to care for this child but it can be done, I know I am living proof. Maybe tolerance is something you cant just talk about when you think its appropriate or in polite company. Maybe you have to do more than pay it lip service, and what better way to do that then to be forced to love the very thing you have vowed to hate.

Personally, they have my love, support and blessings and I cant wait to welcome that baby into our family. I think there is a world of love to be gained from our family and not all of us are assholes. Some of us will love you and accept you no matter what color you come out.
In other news I would like to take this opportunity to send one up to the lord for him to take a moment to teach the exhusband a few lessons. Particularly the one about public humiliation and can I be there to see it is all I ask cause I feel like he is WAY overdue to learn something.
Just a suggestion.

NEWSFLASH: Racism Alive and Well In America

2006-11-20T13:19:00.000-05:00

Yeah I am sure yall are shocked right?

Well guess what I was actually taken aback by this one. Michael Richards, the comedian who played Kramer on Seinfeld lost his mind on Friday during his stand up routine at The Laugh Factory in West Hollywood. Apparantly, he was being heckled by some black guys in the audiance, and I guess comedians dont get heckled anymore or something, because he came completely unglued (or as I like to call it, showed his true colors) and started screaming and calling them niggas. Take a look for yourself.

http://www.tmz.com/2006/11/20/kramers-racist-tirade-caught-on-tape/

There was mass confusion apparantly because he must have been in the middle of his act when he decided to scream that and I quote "50 years ago we'd have you upside down with a fucking fork up your ass." Hmm, did he just advocate lynching two people who paid to see his show? I mean someone spell it out for me cause I am obviously too stupid to see how that could mean anything other than lynching.

Then he proceeds to go off with a stream of "niggers" and "motherfuckers" that made my jaw drop. Folks started getting real upset in the audiance and the two guys proceed to leave. The guys start screaming at him on the way out, which for all intents and purposes seemed pretty mild to me. Most folks would have charged the stage and stomped the life out of him. These guys started name calling back. Richards tried unsuccesfully to make light of it by saying "They're going to arrest me for calling a black man a nigger" but the damage was done, and folks were rolling out in droves.

Now, I personally never watched Seinfeld all that much. Mainly cause I figured I had other shit to watch in the same time slot, but it wasnt personal. I guess there are still a ton of folks who have us laughing every day that would just love to lynch us if we got out of pocket. Yes ladies and gents racism is still alive and we still have a long way to go.

A Little Help???

2006-11-15T12:05:00.000-05:00

When the hell did customer service go to shit? I just want to know because it seems like the more I deal with the service industry, the less service I get. Over the weekend when I was allowed out of the house under intense scrutiny and supervision, I found my ensemble for the black tie event I am attending tomorrow evening. No thanks to my mother and her sister who kept trying to make me look like a cross between a waitress and the entertainment. I don’t know what was going on with the two of them, but their choices for a black tie industry event were beyond questionable.

The first outfit was some sparkle-laden top that screamed "Enchanted Evening at the VFW". I QUICKLY shot that down. Then my mother found this skirt that was above the knee, black and had more ruffles than a damn petticoat. She attempted to pair this Harper Valley PTA nightmare with a white satin wrap top that had a big glittery broach attached to it. I tried to gently explain that this was an "industry" event, not the holiday party at Office Depot. My aunt (god love her) tried her best to step in and help. She picked out this floor length goddess number that I thought was beautiful...but I didn’t want folks to think I was channeling Diana Ross. I mean it was really nice, but it was sorta low cut in the front and really um...really just over the top. Then my mother suggested a bright green dress that I had spotted earlier this month and thought was really attractive, however I didn’t want to make that much of a statement in a room full of real estate folks.

I tried (unsuccessfully) to explain again what I was looking for. A dressy suit of some sort, with a touch of color for the top. Something that said sophisticated but also said I had some damn style and I wasn’t about to either break into song or ask for the drink order. Of course they got irritated, (surprise surprise) and acted like I was being unreasonably picky. I think they were thinking Holiday Party, while I am thinking Work. Anyway, I finally stumbled into EXACTLY the right outfit but now you all know the drama doesn’t stop there. Apparently, don’t know my own size. The size 10 slacks that I thought were perfect were obviously too tight for my mother's taste. Did I mention she is a 14 but wears a 1x because she thinks everything is too tight?

I try the thing on, and she says all loud and wrong "Those are way too tight, get the 12's". I argue my case by explaining that the 12's fell down around my ankles and that they do not fit in the waist or crotch. She protests and tells me that the 10's (again loud as fuck) are entirely too tight and that they are (and I quote) grabbing me in the ass. Did I say this was going on in front of like 20 people in the store? No, well I meant to give you that mental picture and now you have it. I try again to explain that the 10's fit in the waist, and maybe they are a little snug in the thigh, but the jacket will cover the problem area as will the top I chose and that there is no reason to by too big pants when these are just fine. Why did I do that? Why lord?

Auntie decides to chime in and bring her "your ass is too big" two cents to the discussion. At that point to keep from being groped and pulled at in front of complete strangers and have the size of my posterior called into question at full volume, I gave in. My mother is taking in the too large pants as I type this. We had a full on pinning session where she hiked the pants under my armpits and argued with me again about where I normally wear my pants. Its just too much folks, I mean if she wants to play Suzie Seamstress let her, but let it be known the pants are too damn big.

So you are saying, what the hell has this got to do with customer service. Sorry, I am getting there, I just needed yall to feel my pain for a moment. So, the top and matching clutch to the outfit are a very soft gold. I had seen a pair of shoes in Nordstrom that I thought would match perfectly, so after being humiliated in front of a rack of strangers I was then allowed to go see about the shoes.

I didn’t find the shoes I had initially envisioned for the outfit, but I did find another pair that were a much better match. That’s when shit went awry. I picked up the shoe and started heading for these two young (maybe 17) male sales associates. You know that look when someone wants to run? That caged animal, which way do I turn look? They both had it. It was like they were mentally drawing straws as to who was going to get stuck helping me. The little white one came up short and the black one fled. I showed him the shoe, told him my size and sat down. 10 min later he returned looking bewildered. He came over and I said "Did you have them?" I shit you not, the boy said "I found the box" and stood there in my face like one of us was crazy. A damn box? WTF do I do with a box? This fool walks away!!! He goes back over to the same kid he was with when I walked up and they stand there. Looking completely ignorant. Now maybe I still had some anesthetic or Tylenol in my system because if you know me, you know that this is a situation that is about to get ugly fast. He must have seen my face and he moseyed back over and said "They sold them without the box" and walked away again. I was starting to think I was being Punk'd. That’s when my momma and auntie rolled up and demanded I go sit down and eat lunch.

I tried to explain that I was about to put foot to ass but they weren’t trying to hear it. Apparently I had been out of my cage too long already, and they meant business. Here is my question though. What was really going on with those kids? This is Nordstrom first off, the pinnacle of customer service, the same place a lady returned tires to. How do you screw up a shoe sale. Second, how about offering me a similar style or another size? Third don’t work if you don’t want to. Its obvious you two get plenty of room and board at home with mommy and daddy, do not mess with my shopping experience cause you are mad you got a holiday job. Finally, who hired these little bastards cause I want to know what type of drugs they were taking when they did it. "Hey that’s great you have no work ethic you're hired!"

Needless to say I went back yesterday and got my damn shoes in a half size lower. They fit fine, but they would have known that had they asked me. So I ask you, where did all the service go in customer service? What happened to taking pride in your job? What happened to the customer is always right? I was a waitress for a lot of years and though I am not typically a people person, I was very friendly, helpful and efficient because that’s where my money came from. If I wanted to eat, I had to be good at my job, and I was even when I didn’t like it. Even when I was tired or sick or angry about some homelife shit. Someone let me know, cause I don’t understand it.

Slow Your Roll...Literally

2006-11-10T18:41:00.000-05:00

Well the surgery is over, and I have to say that things really went well. I still feel icky and sore but I am overall okay. No serious pain and no real trauma even though I probably was their weepiest patient ever. I just didn’t keep it together well I gotta be honest. Its funny how you can let a doctor break your nose on purpose and never shed a tear but the idea of an invasive surgery that was over in less than an hour could send me into uncontrolled sobs. I will never figure myself out.

Anyway, there were plenty of really great people who made me feel better and sent me wonderful flowers and chocolates. "The Boyfriend" sent a beautiful bouquet with chocolates that my mother was truly excited about...the chocolates not the flowers. My job sent me a beautiful bouquet too with my absolute favorite flowers. I don’t know about you but flowers really do make me feel better. Oh wait I was a florist once, so maybe it’s just me. I am truly excited by green corsage tape and creating arrangements. I am studying "the boyfriends" bouquet so see just how they put it together because that’s an art.

I truly have some of the best friends in the world. They have been calling and emailing and doing all sorts of stuff to make sure I am okay. Dia and themakeupgirl are coming over tomorrow and I hope to guilt them into taking me to T.G.I.Friday's for lunch. I even have some folks who have been super nice to me during this that I think don’t really like me and just put up with my ass...it’s a long story.

So now I can’t run around lifting shit and running marathons or anything strenuous. Not that I was going to anyway, I mean I don’t really want to do any of that anyway but it’s the principal of the thing. After one day I have a wicked case of cabin fever and I was trying to read this damn article on the rejection of a residential project in VA right before the surgery. It was the last thing I thought about as I went under and one of the first things I thought about as I was getting up afterwards. Damn you Loudoun County, damn you Washington Post!

I even found my black tie outfit for the Real Estate event I am going to next month, but only cause I BEGGED my mother and her sister to let me out of the house with them. Of course they regulated every step and I was back home as fast as I left. Small victories people. So between cups of tea and Tylenol I have been picking around on my blogs and chatting with my homegirls and watching a TON of TV. It’s just impossible for me to be still for too long. Lunchtime rolled around and I wanted to go to the bank and over to Moby Dick for a chicken Kabob. Correction, I wanted to guilt Miko into going with me to Moby Dick for chicken Kabob, but since she is on her diet she would tell me no and I would go to the bank instead.

Uggh I think I miss work what is wrong with me? I just wanted to say thank you all for the well wishes and the words of support and prayers. Truly they were ALL appreciated and helpful and I thank yall for talking me down off my ledge and out of my angry attitude. I hope I never have to do this again, and I hope you guys dont have to see me like that either. Its not cute I know.

Thanks

An Open Letter to K-Fed

2006-11-07T16:44:00.000-05:00

Dear Kevin,

Wow, I just heard! I guess the fairytale is over. Just as your career was launching you into superstardom too! I just cant imagine the pain you are feeling right now. This is the mother of two of your children. You both started off so strong, so chaotic, but now this. She went and got her old body back and everything that bitch. You should call up John Cena and see if he will let you hang out. Yall can trade corny white boy rapper catch phrases. Maybe it will take away some of the sadness.

If you don’t want to get a real job, that’s okay too. You can also keep peddling your album, and doing shows and tours all over America. That is bound to help pay for a few of the Ferarri payments, a modest apartment somewhere in the valley and those Tall Tall T's that you seem so fond of these days. Anyway, I just wanted to be the first to tell you how sorry I was, and that even though you wont have a lot of money, you better get me my damn child support on time. My Moesha checks ran out years ago, so don’t let me catch you slippin Earl. Bitch betta have my money, you hear me?

Your First Baby Momma (and don’t you forget that shit)
Shar Jackson

Another Open Letter to Terell Owens

2006-11-06T10:59:00.000-05:00

Dear T.O.,

I know you really arent trying to hear from us today but we just had to drop you a line. Look man, we saw what happened yesterday and well frankly we cant believe it either. I mean it should have been an easy win. They looked ripe for the picking to us, but you never know with these east-coast teams. Just when you think youve got it all sewn up, they go and pull that Novak kid out of their ass and game over.

I gotta admit you were trying to work it out for a while there, seven catches, and a touchdown, but then you dropped your homeboy's deep ball. I mean you threw a tizzy to get Bledsoe out and Romo in, but when push came to shove you just couldnt hang on. Then there was that messy personal foul in the third where you decided to take a nappy nap on the game ball just to taunt the Skins. Something tells us you are somewhere right now curled up in that same fetal position but thats not important.

Anyway, its not your fault Vanderjack kicked low. The face-mask incident wasnt your fault either, but hey that dropped ball is yours honey, you keep that one under your pillow or your game ball at night which ever works best for ya. So, we are just writing to say we care, we understand and shoot we've had some losses in the last few weeks too. Just to show there are no hard feelings, we'll take care of the Redskins for you this weekend. Its the least we can do.

Your Pals,
The Eagles

I Know Your Type I Know Your Kind, You're Quick To Back Down

2006-11-02T13:51:00.000-05:00

Widebody security homeboy at “the boy’s” school needs to dial it down just a notch. Apparently, missing the school bus and having your mother drop you off now no longer qualifies as a valid reason to be tardy. Riddle me this Fatman Scoop? How are you going to be drunk off your own pseudo power being a middle school security guard? I mean how does that work exactly?

Standing there growling at the kids and got’em shook. Oh and trust it wont work in your favor to be nasty to my ass. No siree chief, I am not an 8th grader and I am not going to run if you buck at me. I will however ruin your damn day if I get half a chance. Its not like I am happy with that school anyway. No wonder my son was so scared to go in and get a pass.

I was quick to let him know that I didn’t appreciate his tone or his scare tactics when he said “What’s he late for?” I explained that he missed the bus and his response was, “Well that’s not a real reason for being tardy” looks at my son and says “Go to class”. Yeah, yall can guess how it went from there. I got right up on him and politely (in that what the fuck did you just say to me tone) asked him exactly WHICH reason, was a valid one because driving himself and staying home alone weren’t options. He blurted out “um he coulda been sick”. So I said “yeah, sick” snatched the pass paper and signed it full and bold as hell across three of the damn sections. I looked at him and said “We good?” Bookman nodded and my son got his pass. I again state that they know not who the fuck with.

Who is this guy? Don’t let me catch him in the street. I wanna see him go hard in the Giant, with some damn adults watching. That “Security” shit aint real. You are breaking up kiddie fights and making sure they don’t skip. Its not like you are in the damn Secret Service. You aren’t a State Trooper, just bring it in. Quit trying to scare children all ya life. Fake ass rental cop. I bet my ex-husband is like that when he guards the fountain at the Mall he works for. Chasing little children with his tin badge and flashlight. Just sad as hell.

Ring The Alarm

2006-11-01T11:47:00.000-05:00

Is Avin gonna have to choke a bitch? What is with people getting so close to my new car??? Three times in the last two days some nutcase has swerved into my lane causing me to shout obscenities and flip the bird. Uggh what is with people?? Apparently, what I didn’t realize about driving the bucket was that no one wants to damage a crappy car, but EVERYONE wants to take a crack at a new one. I am just super nervous and shaky on the road now. Watching everyone’s next move, hoping they don’t have some sort of death wish and no insurance. Its nerve-wracking!

The fact that I only have two CD’s isn’t really helping me either. Super-smart Avin packed up all her CD’s and put them in a big box that went to storage. I guess at the time I didn’t have a clue that I would have an actual radio, let alone a CD’s player or a new vehicle, so what did I need CD’s for? So I have been listening to Lil John’s Kings of Crunk and Eminem’s Marshal Mathers LP for the past three days. Not that there is anything wrong with either, I just don’t think that the music is matching my mood. It’s a little hostile for a lady with a happy new car.

In other news I have 9 days till my surgery. Do I feel better about it now? Nope. Am I less angry about it? Hell NO! That is neither here nor there considering its going to occur, and though I feel like I am shouting “HEY I AM SCARED HERE PEOPLE” everyone seems to think I will be just fine. I guess its sort of comforting that people believe I am that strong on a regular basis, but basically folks I just play calm really well…especially in front of an audience.

Oh and I started another blog for those that don’t know. Its called 99products (but a bitch aint one, LOL) and its strictly a beauty blog, so none of that crazy talk, cussing and fussing over there for good old Avin. I know you’re thinking I am crazy for even attempting it, but with the help of some good friends and fellow product bloggers I feel confident that I can keep it clean. Of course you know that doesn’t bode well for Avin’s Day. A girl has to express herself somehow, and damn it that means I gotta curse.

Anyway, I’ve gotta go, I have to make some angry phone calls to “the boy’s” school about what is going on up and through there. Professor Jackass is at it again and thanks to his unit test my son had an anxiety attack. I got a less than warm reception when I spoke with his guidance counselor yesterday, so I am expecting more of the same today. I have my game face on and my Eagles Fan attitude at the ready. Pray for them, for they know not who they fuck with.

Let Me Upgrade Ya

2006-10-29T20:30:00.000-05:00

Good evening my lovelies. I am pleased to report that after a long and grueling day I am the proud owner of a brand new fresh off the lot jet black 2007 Toyota Camry (sorry Ash). Yes people I have a radio a real honest to goodness radio. I know yall are saying "big deal", but that's big shit for a girl that's been bumpin a battery operated mini radio for over a year. Yes, yes yall a radio is big pimp type shit.

I am going to try not to get out of pocket with this car and act like I am on some balla status, but the key word there is try. I mean chances are I am gonna act up and become that chick you love to hate for the next few weeks. Windows down, radio up going 90. Sorry but I am siced I can't help it. I haven't stopped grinning like a cheshire cat since I left the lot.

This morning I got my ass out the bed bright and early and I commenced to scrubbing what could only be described as the funk of 40,000 years off the Rav. I cleaned that car till it shown like the top of the Chrystler Building (yes I am quoting from Annie, don't gudge me, the bible says not to) and vacuumed till my arms hurt. I put in a fresh quart of oil and replaced my Young Jeezy Snowman Air Freshener with a new Little Tree.

I cleaned till my fingers went numb from the cold and then I took my ass to the dealership. I was sure I wasn't going to get a dime for my Exxon wax job and Armor All-ed tires, but the dealership didn't see through my little cleanliness ruse! I got 2500 large for the old gray mare, not too shabby for a car with a serious oil leak and no radio.

So 4 hours and about 50 signatures later I am at home and happier than I have been in a long time. Words can not convey the joy I am feeling tonight, but pictures can, so expect to see me in various poses around and about my new car. You know the embarrassing B-boy stance photos that most folks don't take anymore. Sorry but mom has a new camera and "the boy" loves to take pictures.

Loose Ends

2006-10-26T15:55:00.000-04:00

The car...it stalled at the light today after my trip to VA. I am just praying the thing decides to hold on till Sunday. Maybe I can make it till then, who knows. Very little to discuss today, sorry people. You all know about Isaiah Washington, Wesley Snipes, Michael from Project Runway and that Flavor of Love foolishness, so I dont have any good gossip discussion.

I bought some of that MAC mineralize skinfinish which I think would be better if I used the StudioMist foundation. I got the wrong color, so until I get that worked out I am not going to fool with either of them. I will keep you posted.

Oh and I wanted to mention a guy who goes missing every once in a while but is still a someone I consider a very good friend. He reads this from time to time when he isnt busy as hell. I just wanted to say that everything is going to work out, no worries, we are in the same boat. Okay, thats your plug.

I Am Not My Nose

2006-10-23T09:15:00.000-04:00

I always forget that I’ve had plastic surgery before. Its funny because somehow an elective surgery where they break my nose with a hammer and chisel seems less painful and invasive than what I am about to undergo. Someone is going to tell me it’s the same, and I shouldn’t be scared cause if they can rip my nose off and reposition it, than I should be able to do this cervical shit. Nope, I am still convinced its different.

Anyway, so I am one of those fools who volunteers information about plastic surgery. Like I never faked like it didn’t happen. I hated my previous nose and that is just a fact. I whined and complained and fussed about it from the time I was 7 years old until I finally had the surgery. I kept asking my mom when my nose was going to look like hers. It never did of course. The issue was that I had basically no bridge to my old nose. It was very flat, which in turn made my face itself look wide and round. Well rounder than it already is. Bottom line is I hated it, and that’s not a “oh she is rejecting her blackness” hate it’s a “this thing is misshapen” hate.

That was the first thing I endured, “you want to look white” or “I sure hope you don’t turn out like Michael Jackson” or “people who have plastic surgery don’t love themselves”. Good thing I didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought or that they would be nice enough to liken my nose job to that of a man with serious body dismorphic disorder. Nope, only I had to walk around with that damn thing staring me in the face every day. It was getting to the point where I wouldn’t look at it when I looked in the mirror. I just couldn’t fathom why I got stuck with it. Oh I also had a very close friend say “I sure hope your mother tries to talk some sense into you” and “you know that stripper girl *insert my name/her name here* that Troy used to date got a nose job too”. Whoopee, some chick with the same name got a nose job. Are you upset cause I am going to change my look or that your man was dating a stripper? Lets just bring it in okay, stop with the drama.

Anyway, I promised myself if I were going to do this that no comments would matter to me, and I would never be ashamed of it. 3 years later I am the first to pipe up at a party if someone says “I was thinking about getting a nose job”. Most black folks act like plastic surgery is some sort of crime. Yes, yes I have seen Vivica and Lil Kim, it can be pretty criminal if you just run about all willy nilly getting any old surgeon to correct your face. Do your homework people. Find someone that wants to preserve your ethnicity and doesn’t just wanna chop you up for some cash. I actively sought out a black plastic surgeon who I am sure was more expensive but was very interested in making sure I didn’t turn out all pinched up.

Coincidentally, when I got home Friday night I started flipping through the new Essence magazing and who should I find with a feature story? None other than my surgeon Doctor Monte O. Harris and my dermatologist Dr. Elliott Battle! They are obviously doing a booming business and I can attest to both their skill, and fabulous care. After years of horrible acne Dr. Battle managed to clear my skin. He prides himself on making women love what they see. Dr. Harris does too but he isnt quite as boisterous about it. The article says that they are opening a new practice in New York in addition to the one here in Washington DC. In fact if you have ever heard me rave about IS Clinical Active Serum,(its at the bottom of the post) Dr. Battle is the one who I got it from. Their shop is called Cultura, and if you are interested its worth checking out. Seriously, its one of the better decisions I ever made. I love my not so new anymore nose, and I love that when I look in the mirror I no longer make a conscious effort to look around it.

I remember dating a guy before I had the surgery that said he could never marry a woman with a nose job cause he wouldn’t know what their kids would look like. Yeah so his ass was fired on stupidity alone, but really is it that serious? If you dislike something enough, shouldn’t you have the right to change it without being hassled or ridiculed? Cant you just flat out not like something and want to handle it? Anyway, I think so and it feels great to see what I always wanted to see in the mirror.

Fun Facts

2006-10-20T10:06:00.000-04:00

I dont usually do these but I stole this from Toya, Enjoy

So, the idea behind this meme is that you bold every one of these things that you've done and leave the rest in standard typeface. So, here we go!

01. bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. swam with wild dolphins
03. climbed a mountain
04. taken a ferrari for a test drive
05. been inside the great pyramid
06. held a tarantula
07. taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. said "i love you" and meant it
09. hugged a tree
10. bungee jumped
11. visited paris
12. watched a lightning storm at sea
13. stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. seen the northern lights
15. gone to a huge sports game
16. walked the stairs to the top of the leaning tower of pisa
17. grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. touched an iceberg
19. slept under the stars
20. changed a baby's diaper
21. taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. watched a meteor shower
23. gotten drunk on champagne
24. given more than you can afford to charity
25. looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. had a food fight
28. bet on a winning horse
29. asked out a stranger
30. had a snowball fight
31. screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. held a lamb
33. seen a total eclipse
34. ridden a roller coaster
35. hit a home run
36. danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. adopted an accent for an entire day
38. actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. had two hard drives for your computer
40. visited all 50 states
41. taken care of someone who was drunk
42. had amazing friends
43. danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. watched whales
45. stolen a sign
46. backpacked in europe
47. taken a road-trip
48. gone rock climbing
49. midnight walk on the beach
50. gone sky diving
51. visited ireland
52. been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. in a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. visited japan
55. milked a cow
56. alphabetized your cds
57. pretended to be a superhero
58. sung karaoke
59. lounged around in bed all day
60. played touch football
61. gone scuba diving
62. kissed in the rain
63. played in the mud
64. played in the rain
65. gone to a drive-in theater
66. visited the great wall of china
67. started a business
68. fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. toured ancient sites
70. taken a martial arts class
71. played d&d for more than 6 hours straight
72. gotten married - yes
73. been in a movie
74. crashed a party
75. gotten divorced - YES!
76. gone without food for 5 days - Flu
77. made cookies from scratch
78. won first prize in a costume contest
79. ridden a gondola in venice
80. gotten a tattoo - 3 so far
81. rafted the snake river
82. been on television news programs as an "expert"
83. gotten flowers for no reason
84. performed on stage
85. been to las vegas
86. recorded music
87. eaten shark
88. kissed on the first date
89. gone to thailand
90. bought a house
91. been in a combat zone
92. buried one/both of your parents
93. been on a cruise ship
94. spoken more than one language fluently
95. performed in rocky horror
96. raised children
97. followed your favorite band/singer on tour
98. passed out cold
99. taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. walked the golden gate bridge
102. sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
103. had plastic surgery - Nose, circa 2003
104. survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived
105. wrote articles for a large publication
106. lost over 100 pounds
107. held someone while they were having a flashback
108. piloted an airplane
109. touched a stingray
110. broken someone's heart
111. helped an animal give birth
112. won money on a t.v. game show
113. broken a bone - skiing accident
114. gone on an african photo safari
115. had a facial part pierced other than your ears - Tongue
116. fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol - Not at anyone, I know what yall are thinkin
117. eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wildside note
where is 118?
119. had major surgery
120. had a snake as a pet
121. hiked to the bottom of the grand canyon
122. slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours - Flu
123. visited more foreign countries than u.s. states
124. visited all 7 continents
125. taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. eaten kangaroo meat
127. eaten sushi - All the time
128. had your picture in the newspaper - 3 years Softball Championship Team
129. changed someone's mind about something you care deeply about
130. gone back to school
131. parasailed
132. touched a cockroach
133. eaten fried green tomatoes
134. read The iliad
135. selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read
136. killed and prepared an animal for eating - Fish counts right?
137. skipped all your school reunions
138. communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. been elected to public office
140. written your own computer language
141. thought to yourself that you're living your dream
142. had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. built your own PC from parts
144. sold your own artwork to someone who didn't know you
145. had a booth at a street fair
146. dyed your hair - I dont even know what the original color was
147. been a dj
148. shaved your head
149. caused a car accident
150. saved someone's life

That New Car Smell...the Murphy's Law Edition

2006-10-17T19:44:00.000-04:00

Have I told you good people about my car? Well if I haven't you should look at this and come back. You done? Okay great.

With that joke in the can, let me tell you all about the new car nightmare that is unfolding at my house. First off for those that don't know or forgot, I was stupid enough to move back home with my parents at the end of September. Foolishly I though this might be less traumatic than the last time I lived here for 6 months back in 97.

Oh silly stupid me I must have been smoking that stuff my son did a paper in health class this week on. Btw when did they start telling kids that marajuana is deadly?

No matter, let me cut to the chase. My car is dying and not slowly. It is ingesting oil at an alarming rate and has started a clipse/pharell type of "grindin" that makes me think either I am going to loose a tire or the axle is going to snap. To say that its a death trap is an understatement of epic proportions.

I still drive it every day as it chugs its way to death. Now the logical question is why not just go get a new car. Excellent question my friends with an even better answer. I can't, I don't own the piece of shit. It belongs to the two professional irritants I live with...jointly so I can't sell it or trade it without thieir collective signatures.

Surely you say, they must see your radioless busted whip coughing down the driveway every morning right? You would think that but no, not these two. They believe that this is a magical car that will last into eternity and beyond. Those pesky 150k miles and dangerous sounds are mearly a figment of my spoiled and greedy imagination.

Now lets all just take a moment to reflect. Car dying, parents dilusional, no sale. Ohhh I forgot the best part. They have each had 4 cars a piece in the ten years I have owned the junk box. Altimas and Lexuses, Four-Runners and Pathfinders, Infinities, Mercedes, Cadilacs and Mazdas. Yes folks you name it they have owned it.

I am not even asking for help, I am just asking for the right to unload this hooptie. I don't even want the $7.13 the dealer would give me for it...or charge me to take it. No I just want it gone. Too bad they think its fine and dandy. Attitudes change when I offer them a ride though. Somehow no one wants to think about walking back to the house or breathing in the toxic fumes hot off the engine.

So after the boss sent me to the outskirts of VA again last week and my car started really showing out, they finally agreed to entertain the idea of letting it go. However not without a fee. That fee ladies and gents is my soul and what's left of my sanity.

I did my homework, I priced the car I wanted, I know I can afford it and I am more than ready. Its the best car for the least money and I am ready. Except now they want to shop around for a better deal.

Can you feel my anger through the screen? Its blinding and hot and is threatening to destroy me. Someone please tell me WHY they are involved in ANY WAY?? I am buying the car, not these two crackheads. Who cares what it costs if I am buying it? Dad get that fuckin Auto Trader magazine out of my face!

If I don't get my 07 Camry someone is gonna die in this piece and when I tell them what happened they will deem it justifyable homicide and set me free cause this is just crazy.

What did I do to deserve these people? Why lord did I move here and why have you forsaken me?? Why did I quit smoking!! I am going to go sneek a bottle of wine into my room now and cry.

Busy, busy, busy

2006-10-15T20:44:00.000-04:00

I am trying folks. I mean I have had all these great ideas and topics to cover last week but everytime I tried to post I got all involved in life.

There is the whole creepy old-guy stalker dude from my storage place that I wanted to discuss. That is ongoing and I will get around to the story sometime soon.

There was the whole every day on the toll road deal which is killing my poor old car and emptying my wallet faster than a mugger on the National Mall.

There is the end of The Ultimate Fighter, LOST, the Project Runway Finale, Ortiz vs. Shamrock and Kendall Grove's win against some no name fool.

There is just so much to say and I kow you are thinking "you are on here now, just spill it." Honestly I am on coat in on my nails and between loads of laundry and I haven't even come close to figuring out what to wear tomorrow.

An Open Letter to Terrell Owens

2006-10-09T11:18:00.000-04:00

Dear T.O.,

We hope you enjoyed your stay in the city of brotherly love this weekend. We enjoyed having you as a guest in our home after your unexpected departure late last year. Thanks to your visit, sales of both Energizer and Duracell batteries skyrocketed! Both companies send their thanks. We hope that the extra added security we provided made you feel all warm and snuggly.

We are also deeply sorry that you seemed to be so angry when you left so we would like to extend a second offer to come and stay and play in the beautiful city of Philadelphia. Its clear that your 14 point loss was not your fault at all, it was everyone elses...right? Please dont cry, not on the field anyway. I mean at least stomp your feet and hold your breath like a child, but please no tears, its embarrassing.

We know that you don’t need us anymore, but after last night it should be abundantly clear that we don’t need you. We sure hope you can now feed your family on the crow you must be choking on this morning. Have a safe flight back to Texas! I guess that power of one thing doesn’t really apply to you now does it?

P.S. Don’t be mad at Drew Bledsoe, he tried to get the ball to you, but with us sacking him every play, he must have been pretty dizzy.

Very truly yours,

The Eagles

When Keepin It Curly Goes Wrong

2006-10-05T09:49:00.000-04:00

Dear fellow beauty bloggers:

I need help.

I am out of my tried and true Ms. Jessie’s Curly Buttercream and I am experiencing serious pocket shock just thinking about paying $58 for another jar.

I need some alternatives and they need to be as moisturizing and effective without being heavy or greasy. So, tell me what you know. Should I try Carols Daughter Healthy Hair Butter? Mixed Chicks Leave in Conditioner/Styling Cream or should I just fork over the $58 large and quit crying already?? If you’ve done a comparison, or you have knowledge of the effectivness of any, all or other types of curly cream let me know. I think with the help of a spoon and some patience I can get one more day out of my jar…..maybe.

LETS GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEE!!!!!!

2006-10-04T13:28:00.000-04:00

I decided to use my lunch break today to write a letter. Enjoy!

Dear Paris,

I heard what happened last night, and for the record just let me say…HAHAAAAA!
Does your face hurt? It should. Here’s hoping that Shanna beat your ass worse than Nick Carter did a few years back. Tell Stavros he is a bitch for trying to fight Shanna and that you shoulda tried to handle it yourself. I can see how you might not want to considering how you got your ass whipped by Shannon Doherty over that Rick Solomon mess. A word of advice from my good friend Dia, if you gonna start taking men, you better learn how to knuckle up!

Today’s theme music in honor of Shanna “Stomp’em Out” Moakler
“Whoop that Trick” from the Hustle and Flow soundtrack.

Get’em lol