Friday, August 29, 2008

Back to Blogging

Well I am back. I am also extremely tired and my allergies are heralding that this fall in Boston is going to be a motha phucker if I do not stick closely to my one Zyrtec a day habit. In the H I could skip a day, but here NOOOO WAY... NO HOW!! I sometimes have to take it twice.

Anyway so much has gone on while I’ve been on my little holiday from the country and my blog. So I am going to try to keep this short and give the highlights or lowlights or lights to what’s been happening in my world.

Punta Cana was beautiful. I mean it was gorgeous and hot. The plane ride there was great. I flew through Philly, I thought about you Keith but the layover was only for an hour. I must say from the plane Philly looked like a industrial jungle for real. It was cool. The flight from Philly to Punta Cana was great I ended up getting there an hour early, which was great because if I hadn’t I would have missed my bus. I don’t even want to think about how exactly I would have made that trek out to the resort, because it was quite a long bus ride there.

The resort was nice. It was your typical all in inclusive deal. There were four hotels in one resort and most of the people there were not American, very nice and international. The people were nice and of course beautiful. I got to use my Spanish which was very limited. I could understand fine mostly because I could remember what enough words meant to figure out what the people were talking about via context clues. I made the mistake of speaking the little I knew and then was over run by too much Spanish to understand.

I was asked by several of the people working on the resort if I was Dominican. I thought that was funny. When not at wedding festivities I was on the beach. We even manage to go out to club off resort. That was fun. The beach was the best and yes it was top optional. After hanging on the beach I could totally see why people go topless. The beach made me wish I had packed a two piece. Everyone had on a two piece I MEAN everyone tall, skinny, fat, short, old, young, sick, fine, stretched marked, smooth skinned, tanned, super pale. It was very liberating.

The time sitting on the beach was great and reflective and helped me make a lot of decisions with clarity.

My phone didn’t work which I actually liked being cut off from civilization, although returning home felt a bit cast awayish. It seemed so much had gone on in the short time I was away. I mean we had CNN so we weren’t completely shut off but there were a few things that I needed to catch up.

The wedding was really beautiful and it was cool to be part of such a nice event. There isn’t enough organization in my crew to do a group anything, so it was nice to piggy back on this one.

There are tons of pictures but as you may have noticed I very RARELY put pictures on this blog. I can count maybe 4 times and all have been in the last few months. I have my reasons as to why I do not post pictures on this blog, but you know that’s AB4AD. If you are really interested in seeing them just hit me up and I’ll send you the link to my pics

So how about that DNC. I thought it was a good convention. I am now interested in seeing what McCain is gonna do. I know he just announced Sarah Palin governor of Alaska as his running mate. Interesting.

Well I actually have to get back to work. I hope everyone has a nice holiday! Feel free to share your Labor Day plans if you want. Me, I will be washing and unpacking and packing summer clothes up and catching up on all the blogs I missed this week. I got a barbeque invite so I might do that to. Anyway, hope you guys have a happy Labor Day. Talk to you guys later.

Be EZ,

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

I'm Back...just grinding.

Back to work today and as with any vacation I am catching up on the work I missed and the work I have. I probably won't be posting very much the rest of the week, but I'll try.

The trip was BEYOND words. I even got back just in time to see this speech live. It was like I walked in my door sat my stuff down turned on the TV and there she was, my main girl, Michelle Obama. So enjoy her speech if you haven't and I'll be back like the Terminator!

Be EZ,

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Special Thanks: Chillaxin' On a Sunday (blog scheduling at its best!)

Thanks for the exotic drinks folks! This list along with my long list of other things I love to drink which is pretty much anything vodka ensures that I’m probably sipping on, finishing, or ordering a drink RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE as you read!!

Who cares if you are reading at 6:03AM can you say Bloody Mary…Mimosa come on folks please remember it’s noon SOMEWHERE! I wanted to name this post I'm Drunk Bytches...Thanks to You, but well you know I'm a phucking lady and shyt so I will simply say the following,Thank You or as they say in DR Muchas Gracias. Now that makes my southern grandmothers much prouder than all that bad girl yuck mouth talking, but I'm probably drunk! And that is probably how I sound right about now on the beach, a sailor! HOW FITTING!

In no particular order here are the people responsible for getting me drunk in the DR. These new drinks have me feeling MIGHTY FINE in the DR. Or at least I am praying they do this blog is scheduled to self destructpost on Sunday.

Which ever drink makes me feel like Beyonce when she be lounging on the yacht with Jay gets a PRIZE!!* I know that was all wrong up and through there, but I'm probably drunk. I want to give you the real feeling of a drunk OG typing a thank you blog.

Tequila and hot sauce (Thanks Torrence, can I cal you Ti after I have one of these?)

Kamikaze (Miz is Representing on the drink front the next two drinks are hers too!)

Green Iced Tea (made with all white liquor, Vodka, Gin, White rum, Tequila)

Black Russian (Vodka with Kahlua)

Lychee Martini (Thanks NoR you all intimidated and you gave me two of the most exotic fun drinks to try. I thought I had tried every fruitini there was and you deliver and you also gave me that yummy Brazilian drink, capirhina)

Capirhina (A Brazilian drink! I am hoping it as revolutionary and life changing for me as their va-jay jay wax!)

Side Cars (Dears, Triple Sec and a touch of lime. My main chick from Gotham City dropped by from hiatus to share a nice little drink for my trip MUCH love sdg)

Honorable mention has to go to Keith who gave my lush azz all kinds of drink suggestions, but of course being the drunk I am I had already had everything he suggest and then some. This is what a vodkanista drinks, no really just pick anything off that list...yeah for real I drank it.

Oh yeah, don't really look for me on Monday! Don't do it. You will be sorely disappointed and I will be somewhere SLEEP! I probably won

Be EZ,
*-This of course is a trick contest because TOM A is not coming so this oversized, coppered, tall but equally as striking (like that self confidence huh- its the alcohol talking) version of Bey ain't got her superfine, caramelized, goatee wearing, line backer physiqued version of Jay.

Friday, August 22, 2008

3..2...1 Liftoff

I'm in the DR baby, well probably in route! I've got my list of drinks! Thanks y'all! And I plan on getting as black as laying on the beach with 40 SPF will get me! I guess its really as copper as I can get, but black is black to me and BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL!

Enjoy a blast from my past...takes me back

Be EZ,

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I AM The Hood

Ok so I know it’s a countdown week. And I know there are so many things going on in the world. Now, I normally don’t get all political or social on my blog, mostly because why I have very distinct opinions about the state of the world today and the souls of black folk, I don’t bang I rock the dope rhymes (or blogs so to speak).

I often feel there are far better voices out there blogging about aspects of race, gender, and politics as it affects us than me. I rather spend my time on those blogs exchanging ideas with those authors and their readers than standing up on my soap box twirling my cloak of self-righteousness and adding another, off key, verse to the song ( off-key like Solange not off-key like Ashanti or Cassie) that is being sung across the internets in beautiful harmony by those bloggers.

But today, yes today, two days before I go to the Dominican Republic and party with my friends and members of the Latin Diaspora I want to talk about who I am and what being a part of the black community, the collective, means to me. I must shout out Big Man, because this post was inspired by a post and subsequent discussion on his blog. If you have never read him, Big Man is one of those bass voices in the chorus of great blogs discussing race in America today. You should check him out.

Who I Am (on a ego level)
If you have read me you KNOW who I believe I am in the real form, however I do know there are levels of who I am, while I realize at my core I am who I am devoid of race, gender, or class, I also realize on the operational level I am all those things. Unfortunately we do not live in a world that engages us based on true essence of self, but one that engages us on the ego presented self. And that ego is tied to the unchangeable things like gender, race, and class. And while two of the three can change either by medical intervention or cash influx or decrease one can never change. Hence the old adage in my head always rolls around, All I have to do is stay black and die! And if you are an American pay taxes (ask Lil’ Wayne).

I am the daughter of the eldest child of a working middle class family from Baytown and youngest child of a lower middle class family from Fifth Ward, Houston. Both sides of my family have been in Texas so long I think I might be Mexican. Some of you may be familiar with the Nickel because of Rap A-Lot and the Ghetto Boys.

While my father grew up in one of the hood-est of Houston’s hood, my mother lived quite a middle class life in a rural oil refining town 30 minutes NE of the city. Her father and mother both worked and she and her sisters grew up with more than what my dad and his siblings had. My grandfather took pride in providing for his family and provide for him he did. There were always new cars and nice things in my grandmother’s house growing up. She worked watching an elderly white couple and together they managed to provide my mother and her siblings with a good stable home life.

My father was somewhat of a football star, my aunt once told me of all the letters he got from schools all over the country to come play for them, some of the same schools I applied to. She told me he was smart and athletically gifted. My father even spent a minute playing semi-pro ball despite the fact he never went to college. My father’s father was a mechanic and somewhat of an alcoholic, nothing violent, just a drunk. My grandmother on this side also sat with elderly white folks for a living. However my grandfather’s income was not as steady or class changing as my mother’s father’s was. But they still had a good upbringing.

My parents met at 16. My mom moved out of her mother’s house to Houston to stay with her Aunt Mandy. Mandy was my mother and her sister’s favorite aunt, I even have a cousin named after her to prove it. She was my grandmother’s older sister and she was married with no kids. I think its kinda cool that is also the name of my best friend!

Anyway, there was the usual mother/daughter teenage angst and my mother was not my grandfather’s child although he never made any distinctions (remind me and one day I will blog on step-parenting). I believe those factors set my mom off to live with Aunt Mandy. Aunt Mandy died suddenly of aneurysm and rather than go home, my mother moved in with my Uncle Stevenson, my grandmother’s brother. It was there my mom met my dad, when he came over after one of his cousins who was dating Uncle Steve’s daughter met her. I believe he said something like “Man Valeda got a fine azz cousin living with her from Baytown!! You need to come with me next time I go over there!”

My dad accompanied his cousin the next time, met my mother, and while the rest was history it took a little longer than most. My mother got pregnant at 16 (keeping the cycle of young pregnancy alive started by my grandmother) however my grandmother wasn’t too happy about it. My mom was whisked away and that baby never saw daylight. Yes, this was before Roe v. Wade and according to my father my mother almost died after the baby because, well as we all know illegal abortion exists and making abortion illegal doesn't make people stop having abortions it makes abortions unsafe. Later in life my father would tell me that was his baby boy she, my grandmother, took from him. That was also the end of my father and mother's first chapter. There is nothing like unplanned pregnancy to snuff out young love. I guess should mention my grandmother kept the flame alive by allowing my father to see my mother when my grandfather was away at work.

As soon as my mother was old enough she was back with my dad. She reunited with my father. By this time he was working. He had a gift for gab and was a natural salesman. When my mother got pregnant with me at 19 my father was making moves in the Insurance Industry. Before they turned 25 my parents had already owned and sold a house and were living in a big two story home with cars to match where the white folks lived. My dad was a beast back then. When I think of the stuff he had as an adult it boggles me the kind of money he had to be making.

As a kid I really had no clue, I just thought it was life. It really wasn’t until I had friends come over or see me get dropped off for school in a Benz, that I realized what kind of success and wealth my parents had. My dad being from the hood was a bit flashy with it. I would have to say, when other black folks were pushing a Caddy he was rolling Benzes and if he was a young, successful, black man today he would be the one who owned a McLaren. Anyone who reads knows my father’s story. To save you some reading time he came, he saw, he kicked ass, then got his ass kicked, kicked ass again and got his ass kicked once more and died trying to kick life’s azz one last time.

If you read regularly, you know my mom’s story of restarting and building a nice life for herself as she could after leaving an abusive relationship.

My Story
My story and who I am and why I feel and think how I do has been greatly influenced by my parents and my extended family on both sides. I spent my childhood being shuttled between wealth and doing ok. I was exposed to poverty when I would visit some of my family members. I remember visiting one relative who's house was so filthy I was afraid to use the bathroom. I mean really think about that.

I was exposed to people who were crazy, crippled, and just plain ol’ mean. I was exposed to all the things that are good and bad about being Black America. I was exposed to that and ALL of that was not just stories of how other black folks lived it was a part of my blood, the blood that coursed through my veins and made me me. It was the family I interacted with and loved on the daily basis. It was who I was, WHO I AM.

I was the uncle strung out on crack who stole our TV and microwave when I was in high school. Who when confronted by my mother for stealing those things said to her in a very Tyrone Biggums tone I didn’t steal your microwave, Liiiiiiiiiinda! I was the aunt who believes white is better and at every turn is chasing white because she honestly believes white is synonymous with BEST or at least better, I was the aunt and uncle who came from modest beginnings to be upper middle class status raising a family in a very Huxtable way.

I was the aunt who got involved with the wrong man because she wanted a better life for her kids and had that man destroy her children in mayhem, sexual abuse, and death. I was the aunt who packed up her young son left everything and moved back home from LA to Houston, after her husband began experimenting with harder drugs. I was the uncle who joined the Marines and saw the world and toured Vietnam. I was the cousin who lived 30 years past the doctor’s prognosis of how long he could live a life having Down Syndrome, severe Autism, and Cerebral Pausey.

I was the cousin who had a baby at 16 and still graduated with honors and a voice scholarship to school. I was the mother who lost her 21 year old son at the hands of her husband, his step-father and father of her daughter’s children. I was the 18 year old daughter who secretly aborted a child whose father was either a rapist or her first time lover in order to continue with her education. I was the cousin who got jail time for robbing a drug dealer because he was desperate to make ends meet for his young son. I was the cousin in and out of jail because I think I am the streets but I am not really built or raised for real street life.

I was the uncle who lost his life because he knew too much of the drug scene in LA and I was the mother who got the call from that son saying “I love you momma” only to find out a few days later he was found dead in a dumpster, murdered. I was all those things... I am all those things. And the more I live the more experiences get added to my life, from unfortunate medical diagnoses to triumph of the complete turn around of the formerly incarcerated to the loss of all those memories due to Alzheimer's.

My family has helped shape my relation to “the hood” I am the hood. I carry them on my shoulders with each step forward. No matter how far I come from those stories, no matter how different I am from those people and those things they have done and experienced, I am the hood. I am all the good tings that happen here, in the hood, my home. I am all the bad things that happen here in the hood, MY HOME. I never have thought or will think who I am, what I have made of myself, the cities I have seen, the places I have lived, and the money that I have makes me better than the hood, MY home.

That’s why when I return home to my hood, it is the most comfortable place for me. It feels better than any place I could imagine. It is home. It is my origin. I want to be as much of it as it is of me. It feels right to me and it is WHO I AM!!

Black is black and if we don’t begin to realize that we will never move forward collectively as a race. W believes in leaving no child behind, well I believe in leaving no nicca behind, you know Harriet Tubman style!! Harriet Tubman style!! If they reach out to be delivered from New Dixie's cotton fields, I most certainly am more than happy to grab their hand and let them ride this new underground railroad I'm forming, also known as success and perseverance and empathy.

In the words of Ciara. I'm A little G to the H, E to the O to the T// T to the O, now tell me what you see/ I’m just Ghetto, I’m just me, I’m just me

Ciara Lyrics
I'm Just Me Lyrics

Be EZ,

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

The Man That A Woman Loves the Most

Look its 3 days til I blow this popsicle stand and there just migth be a scheduled blog on Friday, but anyways. Here is something I was thinkng the other day in my head, when my friend was talking about showing her hair to her First Right. First Right is short for First Right of Refusal who ,to me, is the man who is not my bf but does have the first right of refusal to/of the time I wish to spend hanging out. IF he says no, I move down the list, if he say yes, we kick it and he probably moves closer to one of those damn labels I hate. Anyway this was rambling in my head!!

The man that a woman likes the most is always her first stop home after a new hair style, cut, or color that she thinks makes her look fly

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one who's call she answers when she is sitting at home chillin' by herself and doesn't really want any company

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one who's call she returns when he calls and she is not sitting home alone

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one she hates the most because she actually might care if he calls or wants to see her

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one who makes her smile when she thinks of him

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one who brings the least drama

The man that a woman likes the most is always the one who causes her internal drama

The man that a woman loves the most is the one who makes her feel like no other woman and loves her with patience, kindness, humbleness, and uncoditonally

The man that a woman loves the most will always feel like THE MAN because her love is the most.

Be EZ,

Monday, August 18, 2008

The Final Countdown: Monday's Edition (4 days 6 hours and some minutes!)

Well folks!! It is the final countdown to the D.R. I like my swimsuits, I think I like my dress for the ceremony, andFay moved through last week so hopefully another storm can't form. Fay is hitting FL right now, which means she will probably move up and be rain sometime this week.

This time next Monday I will be sleeping, or trying to get packed to catch my plane.

Anyway, how was everybody else's weekend? Me? I went to the groomer there nice but I miss Lynn. If I ever become Oprah I'm paying Lynn a lot of money to following me wherever. I'm not writing or scheduling this week well at least I have no plans to. That can change, I know.

Ok here's what I want to know what drinks do you like to drink? I'm about to go on vacation and the hotel is all inclusive so its time to get a list of drinks to try. Just so you know I prefer Vodka. All vodka drinks will be moved to the top of the list, all though I MUST warn you I have tried lots of Vodka drinks so yours might not make the list for me to try, since I already did. Alright get to work and let me know what you drinking or what's your favorite drink when you are drinking. *

Oh here's something to enjoy I'm sure this is playing this moment on repeat in Jamaica, along with the women's sweep of the 100. They have now established themselves as the next dominant track and field power. I love watching the sprint finals in the Olympics it's like watching the diaspora in action. Have you noticed that the final eight are usually black? Just an observation. Anyway check Usain Bolts world record run and him acting a fool after. This cat shut it down early once he won which means he really could have run it faster than the 9.69 time he clocked. WOW! time that on your stop watch. Watch it!

*I decided to add this warning so you know I'm looking for WILD and CRAZY drinks it's my vacation!!!

WARNING: I must warn you am a bit of a party girl, live in "Texico", and I’m a vodkanista ( I know WNG will love that term), so on the subject of Margaritas and anything mixed with Vodka you will find me hard pressed not to have had it.

Cape Cods (cranberry and vodka with a twist of lime) which I have also managed to have one while in Cape Cod!! Glad my favorite drink staple wasn’t Sex on the Beach. Who can drink with your mouthful and keep sand out of your … your…(I know my mom may read this)…your... hair, yeah that’s the ticket?

Anyway, the Cape Cod was my first grown azz woman drink, after drinking amaretto sours and cosmos in my early twenties. I spent my mid twenties slamming back cosmos, then I tired of carrying around girlie drinks and moved to the good old Cape Cod in my late twenties.

I have had every single fruit 'tini there is (apple, raspberry, watermelon, pomegranate, grapefruit, you name it I've at least tried it and probably been at least buzzed from too many of them) I’ve also had chocolate and white chocolate martinis, funny I don’t like plain ones at all (with gin or vodka). I’m pretty good at making them all and hold the delightful designation of crew bartender in my crew!

I have also had every flavor of margarita imaginable with every liquor (Midori, Chambrod, Grand Marnier, that blue stuff, peach…) if you can think of it I have probably tried it and probably have been drunk from it, Tequilla puts me on my azz like no other liquor, but don't get cocky it still takes massive quantities and limited time. Also know as shots! I also have had them frozen, on the rocks, kinda frozen, warm and even had a few made with handmade tequila which really is for shot taking not drink making. But oooo so good.

Some of my favorite vodka drinks are vanilla vodka and ginger ale it’s like alcoholic cream soda. I also LOVE grapefruit and vodka right now, I switch it up these days between grapefruit and pineapple juice as my vodka mixer. I just bought some Pama (pomegranate liquor) because I plan on drinking Pama, Vodka, and a splash of lemonade till the summer ends (a recipe inspired by WNG’s punch). So with that in mind leave me some real exotic drinks to try! I am up for the adventure

Be EZ,

Friday, August 15, 2008

Friday Fandango!

Fandango- A lively Spanish dance in triple time performed with castanets or tambourines. The dance begins slowly and tenderly, the rhythm marked by the clack of castanets, snapping of fingers, and stomping of feet. The speed gradually increases to a whirl of exhilaration.

I love the word, but never really KNEW what it meant, so now that we all know the meaning of fandango FANDANGO FANDANGO FANDANGO FANDANGO God I love that word!

This blog will now commence slowly and tenderly and hopefully end with lots of snapping fingers and stomping feet woo hoo. This blog is also somewhat of a flashback as I will go to an old often used blog format of mine (and TV Guide).

Cheers! and Jeers

Cheers to Tyra Banks and the transsexual contestant on ANTM Cycle 11, Isis. The is a great move forward for trans-women everywhere and a new twist to a 11th cycle of models. Way to be progressive and keep the show different and new! As a glamor loving bio-woman, I am intrigued by trans-women's lifestyles, so this will be a nice insight to the life. I once watched a documentary on transsexuals in the prison system. BROKE MY HEART!

Jeers to those who don't understand that equality for all means equality for all and our fight should include all those who are discriminated against for whatever reason the discriminators decided to discriminate.

Cheers to body hair removal namely waxing and soon to be laser (yep I'm lasering the phuck out of my chin hairs...I SWEAR)!

Jeers to me for having so much to remove, hello Miss Esthetician I will need to get all my facial hair waxed (grr sideburns), underarms and bikini! On a TMI side note I apparently only have professional waxing of my va-jay-jay when attending weddings. The last pro that waxed my va-jay-jay was a really nice chick in Seattle for Bus Chick and Bus Nerd's wedding. Usually the lack of hair or extra hair on my va-jay-jay is self-maintained.

Did I mention that I am growing out my eye-brows because I do not have my beloved Lynn to keep my eyebrows in check? I have yet to find anyone here who can even even touch the thoughts that Lynn has about her kids while snatching the hairs out of eyebrows. I decide to grow them out and pay a lot to go to a eye-brow groomer. Lynn is an eye-brow guru I only pray that this "groomer" I'm going to will be one/one hundredth as good as Lynn.
I know she won't be cheaper. I pay Lynn $5 for an eye brow wax that looks like a million bucks!

Cheers to my co-workers becoming my work friends!!!

Jeers to my co-workers becoming my work friends, now I will miss this crazy kids when I leave and go back home

Cheers to vacationing in the Dominican Republican!!

Jeers to packing for vacationing in the Dominican Republic

Cheers to the work bathroom stall that makes me look like a King magazine model. The wavy reflection hides my cellulite like high dollar air brushing! ( Yes I check myself out in the bathroom stall reflection, it started as an accident and then as confidence booster)!!

Jeers to the work bathroom that smells like the men's room (read pissy).

Jeers to losing my Charlie Card (montlhy bus and subway,called the T here, pass) 8 days into the month.

Cheers to being able to afford to replace it (I don't pay for gas!!) and to the person who found it being in need of free rides on the T in August!

Cheers to the comeback of the dollar!!

Jeers to the administration that single-handedly drove it down to almost peso status.

to being 35 and loving life!!

Jeers to being 35 and having my metabolism slow down to the speed of a handicapped one legged old person on a walker.

Cheers to gas prices driving down road fatalities (33% less in MA) and finally dropping period!

Jeers to gas prices ever being that DAMN high in the first place

Cheers to public transportation!

Jeers to public transportation

Cheers to New England seasons, namely Fall!!! It ain't even here yet and I am geeked.

Jeers to my New England infestation of mice and apparently flies (WTF?) that I am learning to deal with. Sister Girl do you think if I dust mop with peppermint oil it will damage my hardwoods?

Cheers to Friday Thank phucking - oh wait I don't think I can use that in the same sentence with God!!!!

Jeers to Friday with lots of things to do before I go on vacation

Cheers to my friends!!!!

Jeers to those friends being over 4K miles away.

Cheers to Doublestuff Oreos and milk!

Jeers to the damage Doublestuff Oreos and milk do to my 35 year old waistline.

Jeers to Flour cafe for never having those scrumptious chocolate cupcakes that I love when I walk by.

Jeers to Flour for making me look in their window like a crack fiend trying to see if they have them damn cupcakes. I once accidentally flirted with a man while trying to see if they had them.

Cheers to Flour for never having those damn cupcakes. If they did I wouldn't be able to fit through the door to buy one or two or many!

Cheers to TOM A for calling me an extraordinary person the other day!

Jeers are you crazy ain't no jeers about that

Cheers to everyone who reads and enjoys my blog!

Jeers to me not having enough to really enjoy your visits here this week.

That's it folks, its Friday run along be merry! Make love not war and see you on Monday, also know it is the beginning of the FINAL countdown

Be EZ,

Thursday, August 14, 2008

In Triplicate

Three Generations

Today's post is inspired by the recently written posts on motherhood by Blackgirlinmaine and Raw Dog Buffalo. I have been wanting to write a post on motherhood and how I was mothered in, what I call, triplicate.

My childhood rearing was a group effort. I was jointly raised by my mother, grandmother, and aunts (and uncles) on both sides of my family. My mother's side was more intense because I lived with her, however when I visited my father his mother and sister took up where my mother and her folks left off. My childhood rearing also included a few guest appearance by the villagers, you know the ones it takes to raise a child, telling me to sit up straight, stop chewing gum in church, and making phone calls to members of The Triplicate when I was spotted engaging in shady behavior.

My grandmother's network of villagers was so extensive she had me shook by the time I was 5 or 6. I would not and did not do many things because I was afraid of the report ( I was pretty sure there would be one) of me doing something shady would beat me home, like the time I almost got run over by my neighbor, Mrs Boots (big ups to Mrs. Boots a kind, widowed, elderly, white woman who often entertained the madness of a 5 year old who was always trying to sell her some kind of silly wares to make money. You know like knocking on her door and asking her did she want to buy the page from my jumbo coloring book that I had colored as if it was a lost Monet! or hanging around her garden as she picked tomatoes or going into her backyard, uninvited, to pick up the pecans that had fallen of my grandparent's pecan tree.

Before my shaken to the core soul stepped foot into my grandmother's house to gain some composure from my NDE, my grandmother already knew I was illegally riding my big wheel in the street, not following the rules for being extra cautious when riding near cars and driveways on the sidewalk (which I was NOWHERE NEAR- yep I was all up in the streets like I had a motor), and that I had come literally with in an inch of being a photo in the forgotten loved ones slide show at my family reunion (we really don't have a slide show, but literary license people). The fact that she knew all that in the span it took for me to thank God for my safety and deciding to run one door down and around the corner to the back door, and then run one house down around the corner to and through the back door, had me shook. It became apparent to me that my grandmother had eyes and ears EVERYWHERE and I was not smart enough to detect when those spies where amongst me. Man Mrs. Boots betrayed me, I mean we had PB&J together I thought she was my dawg... why'd she have to do me like that and rat me out to the ring leader of The Triplicate, of all people.

Anyway much of who I am has to do with the things that were imparted into me by that triplicate. Even those things that I at first didn't want to do, but later realized, usually after phucking up a few times doing it my own hard headed way, were the right things to do or ways to live. The triplicate imparted within me the knowledge and hard headed lessons of many women and not just one. And I think that really helped me in who I am today. You know the manners and the attitude. The think I can do anything attitude, the lack of fear, well exccept the true fear of my grandmother. It took me years to shake that and I still have a few cousins who haven't shaken that fear.

Raw Dog's post was about the deterioration of co-raising, especially of our young girls, in the black community. It is true you don't see the Ma'Deas and Big Momma as commonly as you once did. I actually think it has all but dissipated in the north exccept in the communities of black immigrants who venture over here to start a better lives, but still keep their culture of communal raising alive. We have somehow assimilated ourselves to a new style of raising our kids absent of our mothers input. The abandonment is the antithesis of our culture, roots, and origins, where children were often raised communally. Now don't get me wrong I am not advocating meddling, however I do think healthy co-parenting from someone who has manage to make it through parenthood and raise you to be a overly cautious parent you are today, could have some good advice every now and again. It seems we are too busy and too independent to listen to the advice of elders who have been through "it" already.

Too busy to get hugs and words of encouragement that say you will survive, might not seem like it now but you are not a weirdo or bad mother but just going through and you will make it through. I made it through, survival is in you. Or baby maybe you should talk to someone about how you are feeling (the blackequivalent of seek some type of mental council which is usually a pastor or elder member of the village, you know how the black community feels about traditional mental health care -AB4AD) I wish we could somewhat return back to the time of co-parenting and our children having their own triplicate and being contributing members of a a triplicate and/or village raising a child.

Blackgirlinmaine's post was more about how we have seemed to move from letting childhood be childhood and more towards it being an experiment in creating super adults who speak four languages, went to the best colleges, and have earning potentials as high as the current deficit (Yes, that was a pot shot). When I read her post, I immediately reflected back to my childhood. My mom was never a homeroom mom, she never signed up to go on field trips or to bring cookies to the Valentine's Day party. By today's standards she would have been considering lacking by many and a bad mother by a few. Her help with homework wasn't needed because by the time she got home I had already finished my homework, chores, played, and bathe for the night, under supervision of one of The Triplicate members.

You see, my mom was a single mother so she didn't have the luxury to school me extra or pay for summer math, basketball, and science camps or spend time just loving on me. She loved on me by providing for me as if I had two parents. As a child of a single mother I didn't want for any of my needs and sometimes was indulged in my wants. Blackgirlinmaine had a point there is something to be said about just letting your kid be a kid, instead of forcing them into adult worries and struggles about always succeeding, winning, being better than. I think there has to be a happy middle ground. And I pray if I ever become a parent I will find a mix between discipline and pure unadulterated childishness, after all such childish behavior is only acceptable from children. I'd hate to have my child miss out on being a child.

I also hope if I ever become a mother, I won't even go into the fear of failing as a parent psychosis I have, that I will also be able to employee the service of my own triplicate and village. I have to tell you I most certainly LOVE that I was brought up by a triplicate that raised me somewhere in the middle.

The main picture is of me and 2/3rds of my triplicate, Mom OG, and GG (the real orignal!!). GG is short for great grandmother, it has now replaced her previous monikers of Grandmother Rachel, Granny Rachel, and Granny. Yes, I called my grandmother Grandmother Rachel for many years! Don't laugh at the juxtaposition of my country azz using the most proper term for her grandmother there is. Blame my aunt, she taught me to say it as a kid. Sure, I was also the only grandchild of the 14 that called her Grandmother Rachel, before she went all Prince on us and changed her name to GG. After all, I was the first grandchild I got to do what I wanted (or what others coaxed me to do!). Coaxed I love that word too.

The other is my one of the many variations of the triplicate/villagers in my family, my lil' cousin mothers. They are second cousins, my grandfather and their grandmother were brother and sister. Extended family it is one of the few residues of slavery that we have that was somewhat positive and a cultural tradition that survived despite slavery.

Long live The Triplicate and the villagers!

Be EZ,

Wednesday, August 13, 2008


I absolutely detest rudeness and hatred. Not sure why, but I guess the southern bell in me see's no need to JUST be rude to people for no good reason. It also see's no reason to hate on people. I mean I really can't think of anyone that I want to take up my time or energy hating. Life is way too short. Sure I might not like some people but really, HATE THEM? Nope, just not my style at all.

I do know there is some hate out there. I also don't spend my time worrying about them haters cause they gonna be. I guess that's why racism and sexism and pretty much all isms really just perplex me, you mean you got that much time to hate people because of something they can not change that has nothing to do with you. Oh well I guess hate on, cause you not gonna stop me.

And yes my whole life is about race and gender in some way form or fashion, unfortunately I don't have the ability to be uniquely me because who I am is both black and female. Of course I don't let anyone define what that is going to be for me, but those are things for the most part I can not change. Speaking of black females here's one of my MOST favorite in the world.

Here's a little sumthin' sumthin' from Jilly from Philly (just for Keith!). I saw she was just in NYC too, man I hate I missed that!

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Olympic Moment!

We do everything!! I said I wasn't really worried about the Olympic games but I was home on Sunday with NO CABLE and stumbled upon Cullen Jones. The second black Olympic swimmer and member of the Men's relay team that SHATTERED the World Record Sunday night. ( I think it was actually Monday because of the time difference between here and China)! Anyway, enjoy.

Be EZ,

Monday, August 11, 2008

It's Monday

Well, we start this week with out the Mac man. However Err'ytime I say mothaphucka I will think of you Bernie Mac!! Bernie got to do a lot in his short 50 years, even if his fame and accolades came later than most comics. He was a great blue comic and then in true comic fashion turned around and gave us TV the whole family could watch. Does anyone else notice that is the comedy formula. Start out shockingly dirty end up being Dr. Doolittle. Even Pryor did it. Martin is doing it now. I know kid friendly comedy equals BIG Money. Mac's show had two Emmy nominations and while others will say no wins means it was slighted. I would say to even be nominated being on a smaller network with a cast of mostly blacks is a huge accomplishment. At least I do have my Kings of Comedy DVD!

And Issac Hayes died on Sunday ! Wow what a weekend. But t'is the cycle of life. Keep on living and one day, well you're gonna die.

I spent this weekend doing nothing. It was utterly fabulous. Oh! I did go shopping, but it was from the comfort of my couch. I love the internets!

One more weekend left before I jet set to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. I'm excited. It should be BIG fun!

I miss home. I miss my home, meaning my house in Houston (kitchen pictured), but it will pass. Plus being out and about and seeing more of the world will and does make me a better person. However I would love to spend 7 days in a row in my own place. I know I will soon!

Urban dwelling does have perks but it also has cons. I think there could be a mouse in my brownstone. Argggh. I don't even know how to begin. Seeing the rats on the street was enough but having to now mouse proof my place which I think I will have to do for the winter from what I have been told. Man maybe I can borrow a cat or something. BOO! Plus if it wants to stay here for the winter he better have something on this rent.

I can't wait for fall in New England. I am very excited about it. I need to go to Maine and get some lobster. I can't believe I haven't. Its only like an hour away. I also haven't gone to NYC either and its only four hours away. I still have time. I like this actually having seasons thing. I am now starting to look for boots and other fall stuff.

I can not believe there are only 4 months left in this year and I have owned (noticed I said owned cause I ain't been in my house since I moved to Boston in March) my home for a year. I know I closed in August, but for the life of me I can not remember my closing date. I also can't believe this little cutie is almost one year old (bus chicklet, Rosa). I plan to meet her in Seattle to celebrate her birth and our first meeting in November. One day I'm gonna tell her about all the trife her mom and Aunt Moni got into as young women stretching our wings. Them traveling pants chicks ain't got nothing on us. Ya Ya!!

I know this is one of the shortest blogs I've written in a minute, but you guys need a break sometimes. Right? Well since the Olympics have started here is a little American Olympic Nike hype for you. This is one of my FAVORITE renditions of the National Anthem ever. And unlike some of you reading, I remember when he sang this. I was a youngster but I remember it. '83 was the year I clocked my first decade!

Be EZ,

Sunday, August 10, 2008

I Decided

Yeah yeah yeah. I decided your the HIM for me! Making that decision feels really good. Knowing is half the battle.

This song has been out a minute, but I found a live performance and its the weekend ain't nobody really reading. Plus I'm feeling all silly and happy. I also have added her blog to my blog roll, cause you know I like them Knowles gals.* H-town baby!

Be EZ,

* I realize that my new found love for Solange ( a move from indifference) may be a result of Bey withdrawals and homesickness.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

I'll See You at The Debate Bytches!!

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

This is really all I want to say about the bullshyt I think it speaks volumes!

Be EZ,

Friday, August 8, 2008

Friday Flashback: Let me Re-Introduce Myself

Well it's Friday and again I'm being a lazy bum and recycling, I have a lot of stuff that I want to share you know old stuff. Plus I'm reflecting as I come to new milestones in life and move towards my future. This post is from March 29, 2006. I am so happy I have found happiness and I have managed to maintain this happiness for more than two years. Sure I've had a few bumps in the road but really IT'S BEEN AL GOOD! I wouldn't change ANYTHING that has happened to me, after all if I did who knows what my life would look like. I saw the Butterfly Effect I know how that changing your past thing works.

Shortly after this I was blindsided with a few things, but I am happy to say while it sucked I did roll right through it right on to happiness! And no the dude I was talking about was not the current TOM A, but he really wasn't the object of my affection so he wasn't a TOM A either, but he was cool not the most honest or morally sound cat I found out, but hey we live we learn and I wished him much happiness.

So here is a flashback post from my Spaces page. Enjoy!

Let me Re-Introduce Myself

My name HOV, H to the O-V ...

Spaces, what is up? I missed you and I hope you missed me, but I have been busy with all that is life, love, and happiness!! I am cool, my life is settling nice and like settling there has been a lot of movement, a little confusion but it is all GOOD. I am LOVING life. I have love of the people around me. I have the true friendship of people I respect and love. I have the admiration of little children in the street, ok ok ok I don’t know if that one is true, but it sounded good, right? The people that I love KNOW I love them and I am there for them.

I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z/ I guess even back then you can call me/CEO of the R-O-C, Hov'! ...

Work, every day I am excited about work and what we are doing. I am doing some things and when they happen, no need to thank me, because making your life easier is what I do. That’s my job and That’s how I roll!! Lean wit it, Rock wit it! It is busier than what I use to be but I do find time to live life and between getting my grind on, I have made some great work friends. It reminds me of my first real job in IT, except the people are more mature less of the young stuff. UH!! I was a baby when I worked there and so was the rest of the crew! These people are CRAZY, TALENTED, and SMART. I really think you will be reading about what my team has done in a few years. OPRAH here I come!!

Flyer/flier than a piece of paper bearin my name/ Got the hottest chick in the game wearin my chain, that's right ...

Still dating, and very cool with that!! I have been seeing one person for a very long time and we are friends. There isn’t much bad I can say about him. You know he isn’t perfect, no one is, but lately I really know this dude cuts for me. I feel we are great friends and for me THAT IS MOST IMPORTANT. I have been able to work on me while we have been dating. I have been able to grow as a person. His honesty has made me face some things about me and not make some adjustments I was trying to make in me. Those adjustments would have been for the worse. I must admit to you guys I had a “friendship” shake me, almost make me change who I was as a person. You know made me become distrustful of men in general.

All I have to say is thank goodness for friends who are like GIRL come on snap out of it, Monique you are being paranoid, Moni don’t do that dude like that. Girl if you let how that azzhole acted affect how you treat other men, then he wins. They were ALL right; I realized I can’t make the son pay for the sins of the father, so to say. I am happy for what I have learned the hard way. Now I still am not sure if I am ready to be someone’s gal. I am still dating and checking my options. I will never ever just enter into a relationship on accident. When I do it will be something that we talk about and enter into knowingly. I take this shyt seriously! FO’ SHO!

I heard from a very old friend, he is doing REALLY well and he is getting married. I don’t know if he knows just how ECSTATIC I am for him. I knew the first time he told me about this shorty duwop and her lil’ kid that she was his one. Some may doubt the genuineness of my feelings bout this situation, because this man was one of the three men I have loved in my life. Funny thing about really loving someone, you want them to be happy no matter what. As long as he is happy doesn't matter if it was with me or not. We were friends first and foremost! I wish him and his new family nothing, but the best!!

E, I was serious when I said we cool, you asked for forgiveness I gave it and I wish you the best in life and can't wait to see pics of the new family. ONE LOVE man. YOU GET A PASS!! Apparently I only give those to my friends, WHO DA PHUCK ELSE you suppose to give a pass to? Anywho!

I'm like, Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex/ I never claimed to have wings on Ni99a I get mine - by any means on whenever there's a drought/ Get your umbrellas out because, that's when I brainstorm...

I am not perfect and I am so glad I FINALLY realized I don’t have to be. You know I have finally realize some shyt is just that shyt ,and I am letting it roll STRAIGHT down hill baby. Love puts things in perspective and shows you the stupid shyt in life that is trivial. When you love someone and they are hurting all the bullshyt in life drops quickly. I want everyone to keep Mama Buschick and the whole family in their thoughts and prayers! Just send positive vibes that’s all you need to know. I LOVE those people, they are family and whateva I can do, I WILL. My love for Saulty C, White Sault, Sea Sault, Saulty Pimpin’, and Saulty B*llz has help me make sure the things that are really important have priority in life. I love you guys.

I have been looking for bridesmaid dresses for the Wedding of the year (Buschick and DBH), maybe I am crazy but I AM SO EXCITED to stand up for my girl and her boy. She really is like Che with bling on!! LOL! You guys should see that bling she’s rocking !! I can’t wait to kick it wit you guys in 2-0 –SICKNESS its gone be the event of the Summer! Fo’ REAL!!

Only God can judge me, so I'm gone/ Either love me, or leave me alone ...

I finally realize people can say what they want to say about me, I really am gonna let is stop getting to me. If I’m a hypocrite, then I’ll let G-O-D tell me. If Imma bytch, Imma let G-O-D tell me. I am human and I have made and will make mistakes. I am not ever gonna get it all right. Life is about self correcting yourself. As I see it, there is a path and we all get is wrong and sometimes we think we are right, but the measure is when we see we are wrong we self-correct and get back on the road to righteousness. We go, you know I was wrong let me change that up that didn’t work.

THERE ARE A TON OF THINGS I didn’t do right in my life, but I am adult enough to admit that and get on a course to do what I KNOW is right. So that’s what I am doing I am not the Monique of 98, 01, 04, HELL I ain’t even the Monique of yesterday. I am gonna always be growing, so if you knew me back then and you still think I am that chick, I’m not and all I can do is hope you don’t go crazy holding on to the skin I shed several years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, or even seconds back. People grow and change and those who don’t… well, I don’t kick it wit people like that, so I really don't know what people who don’t grow do or how they live. Not my concern because just like me, only God can judge them.

You guys take care. Kel, Theresa, Anya, Renee, and Keith I plan on being by your spots in next few days just to check up on you! I miss you I haven’t had a chance to really get my comment on like I use to, Imma be by though- WAIT ON ME! The rest of my crew you already know, if we haven’t talked we WILL I promise!

Now, back to our regular scheduled program ...

Be EZ,


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Who’s My Daddy?

Question, why are there some men who find joy in a woman calling them daddy who is NOT their daughter? There are Big Daddies, Sugar Daddies, Mack Daddies, Poppas, Big Poppas. I mean really if you cool with that type of thing then cool, however it irks me when a man asks me to call him daddy or even refers to himself as daddy when referring to us. You know things like What you got for daddy today? You love big daddy? Who is your daddy? And lets not forget our Latino brothers who go wild when you call them Popi, Big Popi!

I mean I do get it and I’m not going to lie I have called a man or two daddy because I knew for what ever reason it made him smile, but really it’s still feels odd to me. However I also do not like men who call me babe or honey or any of those lovely names, well I should say I don’t like the casual use of them. If we are not in a serious relationship, long time friendship, or married, calling me baby, babe, honey, sweetie or any of those saccharinely sweet terms of endearment always make my neck hairs bristle just a bit. I mean not enough to be all don’t call me that, but enough to mention to my friends I hate that he calls me babe. Of course my friends' reply is always Girl you are trippin’.

I also wanted to know what is up with momma? Little momma in particularly, but plain momma too. I mean this is all totally understandable if one is married and/or actually a momma. I mean how else are you gonna stop the kids from calling you Jason and Monique, but why? I mean really what is that all about. I had a friend who called me his lil’ momma. I should add the scandal that he did have a wife (on again of again wife), so when he was on the phone with his friends and they would ask his where abouts he would say he was with his little momma ( I guess as opposed to being somewhere trying to reconcile with afore mentioned wife). I guess that name is just more comical than annoying to me, because the irony of calling me lil’ momma is well…comical. I will never be accused of being little or lil’ and well I ain’t nobody’s momma. I just took it to be the slang for I am with a woman who is not my wife, but because I still have a wife (whether in name only or not) I can not call her my gal. You know like the head ho in charge so to speak. Who knows.

Then there is momma. TOM A calls me this occasionally not a lot but occasionally he will say what’s up momma. Or greet me with a kiss and say how’s it going mommy. Which brings all the way back to this Who’s my daddy. I mean really I have/had a daddy, I don’t need a surrogate stand in. I’m not looking for a man to be my daddy in any kind of way, but I get it. It just perplexes the shyt out of me, anytime a man is like you like daddy’s [ insert whatever your imagination will allow you to here]?

Speaking of daddies, today is my dad’s birthday if he was alive he would have been 56. Unfortunately he never made it past 46. I miss him and sometimes I can’t believe that he has been gone for so long. Although I know he lives through me, because my mother reminds me often when she calls me by his full name. That normally happens when I am acting JUST like him. Its funny my mom told me she just realized how much she and I looked alike because she said when I look at you all I see is your daddy!!

See I know who my daddy is? And he ain’t you home slice.

Be EZ,

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Blame it on Keith (or the rain...or the boogie)

Well, I was so planning to blog about absolutely nothing today, this week has been junk food blogging for me, nothing to heavy with NO nutritious value, you know the delicious with out the nutritious. The random ish, not talking about Obama catching the heat that I knew he would eventually catch (he’s a politician folks), not talking about the Olympics or the recent bloodshed in China, not talking about the accusation of the fake letter created by the Bush administration to aid in invading Iraq. Not talking about it, not blogging about it, although I have been reading about it. Hell I ain’t even talking about Morgan Freeman’s car wreck or Queen Latifah’s gay marriage, Christina Applegate’s breast cancer, or the latest in Hollyhood and Hollyweird. Not talking about Heath Ledger’s performance as the Joker or the Olsen twin asking for immunity before she’ll give up the goods on where Heath was getting his drugs. Although I will say OMG Ledger in Dark Knight makes Nicholson’s Joker look like a clown for real and not even one of those cool Cirque De Soleil clowns I’m talking BOZO!!

However my hand has been forced. I mean really, I don’t bang. I rock the dope rhymes and now my fellow bloggers Keith, Zack, and Black Girl in Maine have forced my hand. Actually if you really want to blame someone BLAME Keith he did a jedi mind trick on me. Before reading his post this morning I was all set. I am telling you I WAS ALL SET to blog about my new Instinct and how I think I like it and how I was worried maybe I should have just took the pipe and got a Crackberry like every other urban dwelling professional thirty something I know, but hey I’m different (and cheap) so I went with the Instinct and LOVE it. I planned to blog about how my backordered Steve Madden shoes came yesterday; they are inspired by the Dior Gladiator sandal that Carrie rocked in SATC. Oh the hotness! I was gonna blog about any and everything but the fact that on a whole we women have got to get our weight up! For those who are not familiar with that slang and think I am trying to start some obesity campaign. Get yo’ weight up, means you need to get ready for battle. It is in reference to what boxers do before their title bout they try to get their weight up while still remain in tip top fighting shape or something like that. My BFF is always saying black women are under attack and we are in so many ways, its why we gotta get our minds right and get ready to do battle! Anyway…womanhood is my topic today.

First a disclaimer I’m probably not the broad to be talking about this, because as I told Keith I’m all Ciara on this one, like a boy. However it has always IRKED me beyond belief at how many women just GIVE their power away. This is going to be a mind dump and I can not guarantee what conclusion I will end with because this blog is pure emotion and me straight of the top of my dome..freestyle baby! So bear with me! I'm working this problem out on paper, about to carry the one. Feel me?

We are powerful creatures what we have is the missing link when it comes to men. We are, after all, if you believe in Adam and Eve, we are the rib he is missing. When you look at Sarah and Abraham we are the reason for strife in the Middle East (it was Sari who suggested to Abram that he have a child with Hagar and not wait on Jehovah to fulfill his promise). To get hood with it, really pussy rules the world. A woman who understands the power of the P (what movie was that from?) is a woman who understands her worth. Actually, really it’s not that graphic but I’m a writer not biter for myself and many, (umm saying that just made me a biter. Oh the irony) but I had to get you with something salacious.

What’s Happening to our Sisters?

First things first we know that black women are single at alarming rates. We know that there is this new breed of woman who looks sexually empowered on the outside but ain’t nothing but insecure little girls looking for love in all the wrong places on the inside. We know there are women out there who are nothing but prostitutes selling their body for dinner, apartments, Gucci and Prada. We know there are women out there who have made themselves nothing but a pretty package to be passed around and admired for her wrapping that will whither away, sag, and grow old. We know there are women out there that are emasculating our men and taking independence to a new level snatching up pants and busting balls. We know there are women who’s complete net worth (financially, physically and emotionally) has been built on their bodies. We know there are women who think themselves better because they have repressed all sexual urges and look down on women who have found freedom in who they are sexually. We know there are women who have been victims of abuse so long that they have gone all Patty Hurst on us. We know…we know… we know, but Do you know what kind of woman you are? Do you know who is watching you? Do you know where you going to, do you like the things that life is showing you?

I could sit here and blame this patriarchal society especially the largely misogynistic black community, which is crazy because I find these days that many of our women are peddling misogyny like its going out of style. Or we can blame ourselves. As black women why are we so afraid? Now, please know all this is generalization needed to get my points across, this is not aimed at any particular woman, more at behaviors that I think at some point one or all of us have gone through collectively. However when you know better, you do better. If I hit you with an accusation just accept it and decide if you cool with it or if you wanna change it, no need to fight about why you do it or make excuses, that’s the first mistake.

Anyway I wanna talk about respect. Stop looking for respect, respect is not something that is to be found under a rock. Respect is not something that is given out like flyers after the club. Respect is to be earned, demanded, commanded but very rarely are men just giving out respect, plus why is somebody ANYBODY going to give you respect if you don’t respect YOURSELF. I know I know this is where you ask me why do you continue to sing this song of self-love OG? Because to me it all starts and ends with you. You came into this world BY YOURSELF and you will leave BY YOURSELF so why in the hell don’t you get comfortable with yourself and learn to love you. Trust! NOBODY can love you better than you can love yourself. No one can respect you more than you respect yourself and if we had more self-respect we would know when to pull up and cut ties with those who don’t respect us.

I don’t think there is anything wrong in being sexy or using your assets to get ahead, but as with anything there is s point where you sell your soul for what? Many women use their bodies to get what they need because men are ridiculous and well some men pay. Some of those women don’t respect those men and so the disrespect they receive from a man making it rain on thier azz don’t mean shyt because it’s tantamount (another FAVORITE word of mine) to a little dumb bratty kid calling you a doodoo head.

What you really want to look at is how some women who do some of the most disrespectful things to themselves, their bodies, their minds manage to be respected. That is where the answer is. I mean I know women who have done shyt that is SCANDOLOUS with men and I have seen those same men try to take that woman home (Keith I know this kinda contradicts what you said, but ride with me, let me show where we kick it at). It’s true I mean it has to be true, why would men utter this phrase to there homeboys You can’t turn a ho into a housewife. *lol* I like to think of life more as one man’s ho is another’s housewife. Anyway, what you need to know is that respect is the key. You need to define what you do and don't do, and your moral code and live by that, living by YOUR moral code and adhering to it even if it is considered disrespectful by others insures YOU get the respect you want. If you like some things that others don't, don't let THEM define you, you tell them to kick rocks. I would have to say I HOPE your moral code is tied to something besides Lil' Wayne videos.

If you make the rule of thumb never to be with someone who disrespects you then it doesn’t matter how you deal with one another you will be ok. That’s how I feel so please weigh in. Every person has their own meter. Some people are really sensitive and other people lay in the cut and only make a fuss when they think shyt REALLY matters. I charge women to find out where their respect meter is.

We can’t blame this all on men, I mean I am a firm believer that people treat you how you LET them treat you. I also believe you should treat others as you want to be treated. Because I believe the latter I often play mirror with men I have just met. If you make a date with me and break it, I’m not pressed but you best believe if you get to make another date I’m gonna not be pressed either. Maybe I’ll be there, I may reschedule, or I may be late. I mean really it is OBVIOUS to me that you think disrespecting time is cool. I dare you to say something about it, because you set the tone. If its okay to do something to me IT IS OBVIOUS you are ok with it being done to you.

We can’t blame men, because if you shut yo’ shyt down and a man likes you or half way likes you he will COME CORRECT. The bonus is if he doesn’t come correct you have saved yourself lots of heartache and worry.

We can’t blame men. All this he says that and this and he just can’t right now and the time ain’t right shyt. Shut yo’ shyt down. Oh and as always I am a proponent of ACTION not words. It was a common theme in my marriage. My ex was slick talker. He thought it was about words and for me it was about action, of course in my old age I realize it’s about both. A man’s words must line up with his actions otherwise what he is selling you is like ocean front property in Arizona. If a man wants you, believe you will know don’t make excuses for being unhappy as the terminal jump-off, girlfriend, fiancĂ©, or unhappy wife. Speak the phuck up! I’m sorry but I just think we as women have it all wrong sometimes. And we conveniently blame it on men being dogs.

Naw, homegirl it ain’t that simple. It ain’t. If it was then we wouldn’t be in this conundrum chasing men, trying to be cute for men, trying to have a girlfriend for men ( has anyone else notice THAT phenomena in younger women how is cool to be bi-sexual because dudes dig that and the possibility of threesome…really? Why can’t you just be bi cause you want to or because you freaky why you have a girlfriend cause you dude thinks its sexy..-AB4AD). Dogs only do what their owners allow them to do. Some dogs are excellent pets. Dogs are loyal. Dogs can be trained. So if men are dogs why don’t you take them mongrels to the pound with the other scallywags and find you a show dog?

Ain’t nobody gonna love me on their terms
That ain’t love. I’m sorry maybe this means I am going to be single for the rest of my life, but NO MAN is going to love me or define me on his terms. I control who I am. I control how I want to be loved and I control my destiny and who I give me too. It’s just that simple. As my grandmother put it I can do BAD all by myself. I mean this doesn’t mean that I am not gonna be supportive through his bad times and phuck ups and mistakes. I understand so well about mistakes and being human, but there comes a time where all the understanding has to go out the window and you have to love you. Put a timetable on whatever you doing. It could be a timetable to put a timetable. But if you want to be married to him and he is strolling then to yourself be like if he doesn't do this and this and this then I am SHUTTING that shyt down. And then here is the BIG catch actually SHUT THAT SHYT DOWN. Move on. Get to going on with your life and loving you. I love me and if I NEVER get married or involved again I will be fine. I will.

I say if you happy in your casual relationship, no matter what that status is then continue, but if you ARE NOT happy. If you want or need more that what you are getting. Open your mouth. Get the answers and then make the decisions. And really listen to answers because many men will say whatever they need to say to keep you on the team. If the answers and actions don’t line up like I do love you but I just got married to another woman. Make the decision. If you happy on the side, do you (although I have to suspect that will get old at some point some type of drama will ensue).

I’m not here to tell you to stop doing anything of what you are doing because well I’m a realist and I understand there are indeed different strokes for different folks. What I am trying to say is whatever you do make sure you are happy doing it, that you feel good inside about the choice, that you don’t feel torn or less than because of your situation. That’s all I’m asking. I ask that you respect yourself. And in return I won’t judge the level of respect you have for yourself (well I don’t judge). To those who are judgmental remember respect is personal and I will admit there are some basic respect limits however the only thing you should say when you see disrespect is to ask the person why they do or don’t feel disrespected before you start the pitty party. However I really do believe in minding your own business and informing people of things. Everyone is not gonna drink your Kool-Aid or drink from the pond you have led them too. Just do your duty to inform, not judge.

Anyway the one thing I have to say is respect yourself at all times. If you do that I think you change the game. If someone disrespects you and can’t give you the respect you want break camp. Love you first. Realize you are beautifully and fiercely made and that you are worth something. You are worth being treated how you WANT to be treated. Get up, get out and love yourself. Be the best you can be.

I will end with this story. My dad was always brutally honest, just real. I remember having a talk about a C. It was mid semester and my 7th grade progress report had me at a high C in some class, I was like C is cool, mind you I had only ever made one C in my life and it was a 79 in Mrs. V Miller's class in third grade. He looked at me and said Ok so you are cool with being average? More hallmark moment shyt happened and eventually he got to the Army speech. Be all that you can be honey. Then he looked at me and said what ever you do NEVER be half assed. Never. He looked at me in my young 13 year old eyes and said, even if you decide you wanna be a ho BE THE BEST HO YOU CAN BE. Have niccas lined up around the corner to get a piece. Something about the rawness stuck. I guess it let me realize he was gonna love me no matter what and freed me to always strive for greatness at all things even the bullshyt. I don’t know maybe I shouldn’t have ended with that, but I did. And it is what it is!

Be EZ,

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Stand up Straight

So right now I am reading Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style. Yes READING not watching. I don’t have cable, however I may break down and get it soon, and thus I am Bravo and HGTV-less in Boston. I just can’t see myself paying for cable here and home and I don’t want to turn of cable at home because well…I’m lazy. And I like to have cable when I come home, plus shutting down some things at home seems like me shutting down home. I am thinking of getting the most basic of basic cable at home and then maybe then I won’t feel wasteful for having cable here. TV is the devil! I just am trying to see how long I could make it with out TV stations dedicated to my specific interests.

Anyway I’ve been reading Tim’s book and I am happy to say I have already done a lot of the stuff he is talking about, I have my own personal style, sometimes too much of it. SO I do need to clean out the closets. I have spent a few painstaking years learning my personal style and the things that look good, great and fabulous on my body type. If I were to sum up my personal style I’d say it is highly feminine. I am typically drawn to sweaters, sweater sets, full skirts, A-line skirts, dresses (mostly of the wrap variety but not always), A-line dresses, and a few 1950’s Donna Reid full skirt dresses too. I have an occasional pencil skirt and a couple of other things that work for my shape. Its taking me a long time to get it right, but I think for the most part my choice and style go well with whom I am and my age and the personality I want to project. The guy in the sandwhich line once told me I was always dressed nice! I happily accepted that compliment because yes I do think about what I am going to wear and since I am lazy the thought I have is about 10 minutes before I put it on my body, but that is the best part about knowing my style, I can’t tell you when I have spent more than 10-15 minutes deciding what to wear and I can’t tell you when the last time was that I spent changing clothes countless times looking for something that looked good on me. I did change my skirt once because the extra 5 lbs on my azz I hadn’t noticed made it a little French maidish!

The older I get the more I become aware of who I am and what works best on me and for me. I realize that I have one of those bodies that can cheapen up even the most demure outfits so coming to terms with the fact that I can’t wear certain things took me a minute. I can put on a dress made for a church marm and turn it into Moni does Minneapolis. I don’t wear shorts because they make me feel like a walking porn star. Although I prefer clothes that are closer to my body, and maybe too close to my body for a few of the church marms I pass. Its cool though I like it and most of the time so does the rest of the world.

I prefer dresses and skirts because no matter my size, my waist is always significantly smaller than the rest of me. Nothing showcases my small waist more than a nice full (no pleats) skirt and a sweater set. Think Leave it o Beaver! I have come to realize that if I really want a pair of adult work pants, I will have to take them to the tailor for that very reason and why I am not Buffy the Body I do require my waist to be taken in a bit, the pants I have to buy the fit the rest of me as opposed to the size my waist can take is sometimes more than what a belt can handle, but things like being able to have someone fit your clothes etc are things that come with getting older and learning what can work off the rack and what can’t. I wish I would get in the habit of doing it more regularly, but I only go in the most extreme circumstances, which always results in a side-eyed stance from my BFF telling me you really should go to the tailor your body begs of it. I have found jeans that are made to fit me, I use to hate wearing jeans in my twenties and would only wear jeans in a certain size, hence when I was bigger than that I never wore them, however in my thirties the jean has become my best friend. I once had a suitor who was disappointed I wasn’t clad in jeans on our date. *lol*

Anyway this post was really about posture and why I just don’t get bad posture. How does one become comfortable holding bad posture? I mean this world is full of people with horrible posture. I have always been proud of being tall; therefore I have never dealt with the tall girl slump. I don’t know but slumping or shrinking in my skin just wasn’t allowed nor do I remember ever thinking it was an option, I’m sure it’s the Aries in me. I think how one holds his/her carriage definitely determines many things in life. It affects how people treat you, if you are seen, and definitely how you look in your clothes whether they are the wrong or right choice. I mean I just think standing up straight, shoulders a part (not back), and pelvis tucked delivers confidence. Just as standing head held to high and shoulders too far back delivers perhaps a bit of haughtiness as if you want to bang your chest to let others know you think yourself better than them. There is a difference, I have learned, between good posture that says I’m confident in who I am and good posture that says I am confident I am better than you. I wish I could show you, you know like a YouTube video or something.

It’s easier to see the difference between those who lack confidence and the confident than it is to see it between those who are overly confident to the point of arrogance and the confident. Am I crazy?

You see, humans are animals and body language is the number one thing we use when sizing up prey, predators, and all those in between. It’s the reason some kids get picked on and others don’t (sure there are other reasons too). I think sometimes people can even tell when confidence is feigned and not natural but forced.

To me confidence when it is natural and real is something that just rest down to your bones. I can even tell when people who are normally confident have their confidence shaken. I’m an observer of people its why I like the bus, train, and living in the city and all that jazz, you get to watch all kinds all walks of folks move through life. You also get to make up wildly insane lives for these people with your over active imagination. And since I’m a people person I get to interact with those people and see if my assumptions were right or wrong.

I’m a good reader of people THESE DAYS, but not always. I have tweaked my people reading skills over time, some people are really good at pretending or perhaps it’s that they have been pretending so long they now believe the bullshyt they are selling. Who knows, I do know watching people and who they are will always remain one of my favorite past times. Do you think there are differences in how the naturally confident and the naturally arrogant carry him/herself? Can you spot someone who is trying to fake it until he or she makes it? Or am I crazy? Do you know what your personal style is? Man I am all up in the business today! ALL UP IN IT!

Be EZ,

Monday, August 4, 2008

Monday Machinations

Warning this is a brain dump!

Actually these aren’t machinations, but I love that word its one of my favorites in the language. No plots or plans I’m up front with mine that is how I get down. It’s how I roll, that is so over as the hip thing to say. Anyway this is just a haberdashery ( another favorite word of mine) of random shyt in my life. You know what’s popping in to my head in no particular order.

I had a pretty cool weekend. I was hanging out, aka as dating; why am I dating if I love TOM A? Well, glad you asked. Well, last I checked TOM A hasn’t put any rings on this finger or even given the kid a title belt and if he asked I would tell him I was going on said dates, so we cool. I guess. I don’t think he is too worried, I’m not. Nobody is threatening his title. Plus friends are cool. I mean I’d be cool if he was dating. Hell I think we have always been dating, we never been exclusive and to be honest BEING EXCLUSIVE scares me. I have slight commitment issues.

I think women stop dating far too soon when men we like are concerned. We date a a guy for 3-5 dates and then shut that shyt down, I just can’t. You pretty much have to make me shut it down, I think. It’s been so long since anyone asked me to shut it down. *lol* I just choose to keep it moving until someone says hey I’d rather you only move around with me, and if I agree then I hand over the keys to my chastity belt! And its all good in the hood!

Dating until you are really sure works for me. I think, for me, it does two things it keeps the relationship in perspective and it gives me a real gauge of how much I like the guy in the number one spot. It makes sure I don’t put all my eggs in one basket. It insures that I really like him and he likes me and makes me less available. Sometimes people end up in relationships because they are just too available. I figure this way I always have other options even though my favorite option is being at my house co funky chillin! (In my Kangol and ADIDAS sweat suit!) And in case it was only infatuation and not love it makes getting over said jerk MUCH easier, but I learned all this THE HARD WAY, through experience!

Being in a new is kinda cool. Plus there is even less pressure, well first I’m never pressed and having someone you really vibe with in your camp makes you superduperfragilistically not pressed. Meeting the men in this city has helped me get a feel for Boston, most of them are eh. However my fascination with the opposite sex and how they think makes this a perfect experiment. Sometimes I wonder if my lackluster enthusiasm over men is because TOM A is that great or is it because Boston men are that bad or is it because most men are like puzzles to me (who gets excited over puzzles?).

I like the ones that are use to women swooning over them; they are the most interesting to watch when one doesn’t swoon. I really am not a swooner, not on purpose but the things that impress me about a man have to do more with integrity, character, and goodness and less to do with education, employment and bank account. Its funny those are usually the men who view women as conquest and notches and they don’t feel right unless you are running behind them creating a whirlwind of drama. Well I don’t do drama. I make myself disappear at the first sight, sure a few men have made me dramatical and GOD AM I EVER EMBARRASSED for participating in their very own ghetto kabuki theater, and almost immediately I go YOU KNOW BETTER and kick myself for giving someone ANYONE my power. Oh well…we live and learn. Anyway they say things to you abut being intrigued and how you are a different woman and blah, blah, blah. I say things like just think of me as your buddy with out a penis, or your buddy with a rack , or perhaps you can think of me as person and not a vagina to conquer.

Anyway, I like men as buddies and casual acquaintances, but I like women for the more deep stuff. Hanging out with guys is fun and once they get over it, meaning that you probably only gonna be friends they are great. I think it’s because the optimism that one day you might let them get it, even if it is in a weakened drunken Meridith Grey George O’Mally kinda moment. The bonus it takes them about 10 minutes to get over that. Plus with men as homies you don’t have to put the same time in as you do with girls.

I LOVE that I can not talk to a male homeboy for weeks or months, and then send one text about meeting up they are ready to roll. No where you been, no why didn’t you call me back, no anything (well except for free drinks) if they really missed me and maybe a question or two about why the new girl ain’t feeling them or if I’m with anyone right now.

Actually it’s been a long time since I had any of those conversations. I mean really it’s much easier for me to make friends and hang out with men and talk than it is for me than women. I realized pretty much all the women I know besides my BFFs are through said BFFs well the ones that I hang out with talk to regularly. Nice to have someone screen your female friends for you! Plus I have all the home girls I need, guy friends don’t require calling all the time, you can text them to met you out somewhere and they are available and they also ward of the kinda men you DON’T want to make friends with. The female friends I have don’t require all that shyt either which is WHY we are friends!

I doubt TOM A would have a problem with this I’m trustworthy plus he knows and I know that until I move back we are not moving to that. I’m not really in to LDRs. However I do know never say never and my wind changes direction all the time, so don’t look crazy if I tell you I’m in a LDR. I’m also not into acting like men and women can’t be friends. I’ve lost a few homeboys to wives, who refused to let us be friends, but most of the times I can hold my own with the boys and the wives see that I’m not even worried about that at all. Sometimes it’s because they are ex-ships (not my word but I like it), I think ex-sips are easier because all there is left is friends because you both KNOW the other part was not so good. *lol*

Men here are funny…weird…and they make me miss home. They are funny because I don’t know they act like they aren’t used to women being nice or cool. Apparently the women of Boston are some hard azz chicks. I keep hearing that from every dude I hang out with. Anyway I went to a real Irish bar in Southie. Yep only black chick in the place, not sure why my friend thought this was a cool place to have a drink, but hey whatever. I like to get out and look and watch and stuff so I’m game. I also went to a very cool Jazz bar called the Beehive. Down the street from my house too! I love living in da mix! I had a cool time with this guy, who has managed to live all over the world. I love cats like that, because I am all about adventure baby! I like people who aren’t afraid to jump on a plane and see what it do ANYWHERE in the world. I embrace change like a homeless man at a stop light!

So my co-workers are always asking me why or how I meet so many people. And the thing is I don’t know what it is abut me, but people like to talk to me. Maybe they sense my southern girl. I don’t think I am appealing or gullible looking, I do know people also like to stare at me a lot but that’s been happening pretty much my whole adult life so I’m use to it. I’m also use to the small talk, although I HATE it. When people stare I either smile back or ignore them (when I have my shades on which I almost always do…it’s the best way to avoid the uncomfortable glances and bus macks). Anyway I always speak and try to be warm so maybe that’s why people talk to me and then ask me out and what not.

I remember once in college this chick tried to insinuate I was a WHORE because I had been out on so many dates. Plus trust there are WAY many more reasons to call me a whore than going out to dinner, drinks, or coffee with a man who might fancy me. I was always like look this ain’t the strip club and date means date not an illegal sex act in the champagne room. I guess I just look friendly and the fact that I will go out with any decent guy at least once if he ask me right and respectfully means I’ve been on a lot of dates and well I had a lot of fun. But even better I have A LOT of FUNNY stories to tell. Look men are people too! Most dates never go past the first, but I like hearing about other people’s lives and stuff. It’s the stuff movies SHOULD be made of, plus then I always get at least one or two funny stories to add to my “you won’t believe this is not butter” file. I just have never been mean like even at the club I will dance with you if you ask and you are respectful, which means I have been clowned on the dance floor by a few less rhythmic cats.

I guess I missed the chapter on making men feel like shyt. I just think its fun meeting people and it’s not like I am really going out that much people – or at least it seems normal to me and my world.

Should I be offended that my co-workers are dumbfounded that men like to take me out? WTF? People like me! Wait- Don’t answer that ‘cause I really don’t care what they think or anyone thinks for that matter. I am me and some people like me, some people, love me, and some people loathe me and there are even a few people who like, love, and loathe me all at the same time.

I think I found a swimsuit for the DR. I think I’m going to go home to the H in October and I can’t believe it’s not butter and that there is only four months left in this year. This is it, the END of summer countdown. Wow! I am not looking forward to Boston winters at all, but I am looking forward to my first New England Fall!! The Leafers are coming!

Some times I wonder what my future will be like but most times I am too busy living to really worry or wonder. My life is like this great book for me, when I think about all the stuff I’ve been blessed to see and some I wish I hadn’t seen, I feel pretty cool. I always tell my friends I really like my movie.

I refer to my life as a movie, sometimes I sit down and watch it in my head, the beginning is kind fuzzy but boy it seems to get better the longer I watch it. Anyway... Ok I am have rambled way too much and not about anything particular, did anyone else do anything fun or exciting this weekend, last week, last month, last lifetime?

I promise to have a more cohesive thought pattern tomorrow, maybe… maybe not. Who am I kidding I can’t promise anything.

Be EZ,