Random Thoughts of a Bored Black Female in the "A"

Confusion. (Part 2)

2012-02-12T15:54:00.008-05:00

I went home for the holidays and spent more time with Taz and it was awesome as always. We always had a good time when we hung out. He told me that his feelings for me were getting more serious and I felt the same. I'm usually not one to express my emotions, for fear of looking (and feeling) like an idiot, but with Taz I felt comfortable for some reason. I didn't have any reservations about him making fun of me or judging me, and that's something I never felt with anyone else.

This past January was his birthday month, and about a week before his birthday he sent me a text saying that he was going to try to persuade his younger sister to fly him out to Virginia as a birthday gift. He said that she was originally going to buy him some parts to fix his car and a lens for his camera (he has been working on starting his own photography business). I was excited when he first told me because of course I wanted to see him, but then the logical part of me kicked in and started analyzing the situation. Plane tickets are always expensive, especially on short notice, so I knew that would be about $500 for a round trip. On top of that, he would have to stay in a hotel because I wasn't allowed to have overnight visitors in my barracks. Even the cheap hotels in Virginia start around $100 a night and Taz was planning on staying here for 3 or 4 days, so that would be another 3 or 4 hundred bucks. Add the cost of food to that, and that's easily over $1000 for a trip; money that could be spent towards him having reliable transportation and equipment for his business. I talked to him a couple days later and apparently his sister had mentioned the same thing to him about his preference of taking a trip instead of investing in something more long-term.

I told him that as much as I wanted to see him, I would rather he use that money for the things he needed. He agreed with me, and we continued communicating via phone calls and text. Until.............

We were having a normal conversation as usual, nothing serious, then Taz hits me with the "Oh, btw my phone will be off tomorrow" text. Okay. I ask him what happened to him doing everything he could to make sure we could stay in touch, because we went for nearly a week without talking the last time due to his phone being off. He claimed that he meant what he said before, but things didn't work out the way he thought, therefore we needed to be "realistic."

Let me pause right there.

I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I pride myself on being very good with words. With that being said, when someone uses a particular word (or words) to prove a point with me, I will take that word and start thinking of every single way that word has been relevant in dealing with that person. So when Taz implied that I was not being realistic, my mind started racing with all the things he had failed to be "realistic" during our relationship. It wasn't very realistic to want to get married and have kids in 1 or 2 years when he had no income, it wasn't realistic to make plans to come to Virginia when he needed to get his car fixed, it wasn't realistic to get into a long-distance relationship knowing that his phone got cut off on a regular basis.....see where I'm going with this?

So I asked him if realistically, he thought it was fair to me not to be able to talk to him, when were already so far from each other. He admitted that he realized it was frustrating, but there was nothing else he could do. I didn't hear from him anymore that night, but I spent the whole night thinking about the conversation and our whole relationship in general. Like I said in the first part of this post, I've been unemployed and phone-less myself in the past, so that's not the issue I was having with Taz. My issue was that he knew what his situation was, but still chose to embark on getting into a serious relationship. And not just a serious relationship, but a long-distance relationship. Long-distance relationships pretty much depend on the usage of phones or any means of communication other than face-to-face. If I can't see you every day and I also can't talk to you on the phone, or text you, or e-mail you, what kind of relationship do we have?

Even though it hurt my heart more than anything ever had, I knew what I had to do. The next day Taz hit me up, asking if I was "mad" at him. I told him I wasn't mad, but I had done a lot of thinking and I couldn't deal with randomly being out of touch all the time. He asked what I wanted to do, and I told him I thought we should take a break while he took care of his business and then see where things went from there. He said he agreed with me even though he knew it would hurt. He asked where we stood, and I told him I always valued our friendship but a relationship outside of that didn't seem like the best option at the time. Later, he apologized for being a burden to me and said he hoped he hadn't wasted my time and he still loved me no matter what.

This is where the confusion part comes in. I feel like what I did was the best thing to do, logically, but at the same time I feel like I was being a coldhearted bitch. I couldn't stay with him and pay his phone bill every month because I think that would just be a way of enabling him rather than leaving it up to him to handle his own affairs, but at the same time I know how helpless and frustrated you feel when you don't have the money for what seems like a small thing. I've never been in this type of situation before. I always thought if I broke up with someone it would be because they were abusive or cheating.

All of this happened about two weeks ago, and I still replay what was said in my head every day. This love shit sucks.

Confusion. (Part 1)

2012-01-29T18:31:00.002-05:00

In my last post, I said that I would write more regarding my feelings and thoughts about my current relationship. There's no better time than the present, so here it goes.

I met my boyfriend (I'll call him Taz, that's his artistic alter ego nickname) seven years ago in college. We were in the same art classes, and as usual, I kept to myself for the most part. However, he would approach me with some bullshit small talk or say something to make me laugh since I was (and still am) so fucking serious. Eventually, we started talking back and forth on MySpace (that lets you know we go waaaaayyy back) and exchanged numbers. I could tell he liked me and I liked him too, but at the time he had a girlfriend so I wasn't trying to get in the middle of that.

We kept in contact on and off for the next few years, but for some reason he would always randomly change his number and I wouldn't be able to get a hold of him. Then he would call or text me from a new number and we would start talking again. Last year, the day I got out of boot camp, I logged into Facebook and I had a friend request from him. No sooner than I accepted the request, there he was in that little pop-up chat window asking how I had been. He wasn't thrilled to hear I had joined the military, but we exchanged numbers again and kept in touch the whole time I was in A school.

When I came home after graduating from A school, Taz and I spent just about every day together for the next two weeks. During that time, he revealed to me that he had always wanted to be with me and asked how I would feel about being in a long distance relationship. I told him I had never experienced it, but because I cared about him I was willing to try it.

Somewhere in here, I guess I should have mentioned that Taz was (and still is) unemployed. Although we went to school together and I graduated, he stopped taking classes because he was having family and health issues and hasn't gone back yet. However, I've had my times of being unemployed and down on my luck. About four years ago this time, I was desperately poor and probably had about $2 to my name, literally. I had no car, could barely afford to buy food, and I definitely couldn't pay any of my bills. This led to my cell phone being cut off and accruing a $500 bill due to the termination cost and late fees. Add the constant harassing phone calls from bill collectors and you had one miserable sister. I say all of that to say that I knew about Taz's situation, but I wasn't tripping off it too much because I've been there and I know it sucks. I know you can't just snap your fingers and get a 50K yearly salary. I have been called materialistic in my younger days, but I've never been the type of woman to expect a man to buy me clothes, jewelry, and a brand new car. If there's anything I want, I'm capable of paying for it myself. I knew that I was in a bad financial situation, but I managed to get out of it so I had faith that Taz would do the same.

We became "official" in October of 2011 and things were going great. I made the move to Virginia, and one day while we were on the phone he mentioned that he wouldn't be able to talk to me for a few days because his phone would be off. I was thrown off for a minute, then I realized that he was saying he wouldn't be able to pay the bill. I know some of you out there are going to throw virtual darts at me for what I'm about to say, but since we had just started dating and I was feeling unusually compassionate, I sent him the money to pay for it. He promised he would pay me back but I told him not to worry about it. I felt if the roles were reversed and I was in his shoes, he would do the same for me.

As the months went by, he would tell me about jobs he had applied for and how people weren't hiring him because they claimed his skills didn't match what they were looking for. At the same time, he confided that he wasn't getting any support from his family because they looked down at him as a "bum" that was never going to be anything in life. I did my best to encourage him, telling him not to be influenced by what other people thought of him and to do what he could to get back on his feet. He'd say I was right and tell me how much he appreciated me for being there for him.

Then he sent me a text one day saying his phone was going to be off....again. Okay. As much as I wanted to, I refrained from offering to send him the money again. A few days went by with no contact from him and I was a little irritated. Here I am in a long distance relationship, already missing out on the comfort of seeing the person I love every day, and now I can't even hear his voice either? I was pissed. I still did my best to be understanding though, and didn't confront him about how I was feeling (although I should have).

Okay....this is getting long. I guess I'm going to stop here and do that Part 2 shit. Hopefully I won't take forever doing it.

Serious Question.

2012-01-25T17:12:00.004-05:00

Is there anyone out in the blogosphere that resides (or knows someone that resides) in Alaska, Florida, Nevada, South Dakota, Texas, or Washington?? I'm trying to come up with a plan....

*Wink, wink

Y'all can probably already figure out what it is.

Tagged And Shit.

2012-01-21T20:14:00.004-05:00

I guess I'm supposed to post 11 random facts about myself then answer 11 more questions. I saw the rules on everyone else's blog, but the copy and paste function is being retarded and I'm too lazy to re-type it all.

Anyway, these are my 11 random facts:

1. I'm obsessed with Spider Solitaire. I discovered it on my computer a couple weeks ago and now I play it just about every day.

2. I'm really good at English. At one point in my life, I wanted to be an English teacher.

3. I chew gum like most people smoke cigarettes. I can go through a pack a day.

4. I'm skinny.

5. I enjoy cleaning, especially the bathroom. I feel so proud when everything is all scrubbed down and smelling fresh.

6. I say "I don't give a fuck" a lot.

7. I also say "and shit" a lot.

8. I smoke if I get drunk enough.

9. I drive a Honda Civic.

10. I hate being the first person to initiate a text conversation.

11. I want to live in New York.

Now, the answers to Laki's questions:

1. Do you follow any superstitions?

No.

2. Are you single or attached? How do you feel about your current situation?

Oh boy. Answering this question could be a blog post all by itself. I'm currently in a relationship, but I'm not as happy about it as I should be. The person I'm with is a good person and I think he has good intentions...but I feel like he lacks the motivation to get out of the state he's in and that's emotionally draining for me. More on that later.

3. If you could have dinner with any famous person, living or dead, who would it be?

Lupe Fiasco. I love his lyrics and I'd want to pick his brain on how he came up with them.

4. What five words would OTHER PEOPLE describe you as?

Quiet, smart, skinny, weird, sarcastic.

5. Cats or dogs?

Dogs. Cats are creepy.

6. Weave or natural?

Natural. I had weave put in for the first time last summer and it was the worst experience ever. Even after I repeatedly told the woman my hair was natural and I DID NOT want any relaxer in it, she still put relaxer "around the edges" so it could "blend" in with the weave. Then tracks were showing and shit...I was beyond pissed. It will take a long minute before I do that again.

7. What's the scariest thing you've ever done?

Walked through a gang of clowns during a Halloween fest at an amusement park.

8. Who are you closest to?

My mom and younger brother.

9. What's one of the most embarrassing things you've done?

Pissed myself in boot camp.

10. What advice were you given that you wish you would have listened to?

Finish getting my bachelor's degree.

11. If money were no object, what would be the first thing you'd do?

Move to Italy.

I know the next part is to tag other people, but I can't think of anyone so umm....yeah.

New Year Shit.

2012-01-07T18:19:00.002-05:00

I went home for the holidays and it was such a nice getaway, as usual. So much so, that I didn't want to come back to Virginia. At all. Like, I was seriously thinking of ways that I could disappear. Withdraw all the money from my bank accounts and live like a fugitive, or fake my death or something.

I didn't do it though. So here I am, back in Snore-ville, trying to keep up the high from being at home for as long as possible. Don't know how long it will last, since people from work were irking my nerves the first day I got back. I try not to let them get to me, I really do, but there's just something in my brain that won't allow me to let that shit go. I always say I'm going to work on it and I do for a while, then someone says or does something and I'm back in that place again.

Anyway, I don't really do the New Year's Resolution thing anymore because I never follow through with that shit. I have goals and accomplishments that I'm constantly working towards. I've been working towards them pretty much all year round. I have setbacks, but I keep getting up and pushing through it.

One goal I'm always *trying* to work on is saving money. I never thought something that seems so simple could be so hard, but it really is (for me at least). I have good intentions, but as soon as I'm saving, some random bill or repair pops up that I have to take care of, and I find myself pulling money from my savings. I guess savings are meant for emergencies, but still. I just want to have the money THERE. I don't want to have to use it for some bullshit. That probably sounds unreasonable as hell, but I don't care. I always envy people who have like $10,000 just sitting pretty in their bank account.

I was making my way towards being that way, but of course my impatient ass went and got a brand-new car. I don't regret getting the car because I'm the type of person that NEEDS to be independent. I can't be waiting around for people to give me rides and shit, but at the same time, every time the first of the month rolls around and that car payment comes out, I cry a little on the inside.

Other than that, I'm planning on doing what I need to do to advance in the military. I still don't know if I want to make a career out of it, but the least I can do is work on getting promoted while I'm in. The only thing that makes it hard is that I work with so many disgruntled people who HATE the military and don't give a fuck about helping any of the new people; they're just counting down the days until they get out. I'm trying to find the people who can give me some guidance; maybe that will make things better.

Personally, I'm working on making this relationship thing work. I'm so happy when I'm with my boyfriend at home, but as soon as I get to Virginia I do my best to pretend he doesn't exist. I know that sounds fucked up, but if I think about how much I miss him, I won't want to get out of bed. I have to think like that so I can function, or at least that's what I tell myself. At the same time, I'm sure that makes him think I don't care. My goal is to sort through my emotions and be honest about them, since I've always had problems expressing how I feel....vocally, that is.

Well, those are my New Year's non-Resolutions. Good luck to everyone else that has made resolutions!

Stress Never Outweighs Peace (Or So I'm Told).

2011-12-12T16:55:00.004-05:00

I've been stressed for a while about my living situation, and I guess I'm ready to "write it out," as DBB would say.

I think I mentioned before that I have been staying on the barge since I moved to Virginia. It's supposed to be a temporary living arrangement until I get assigned to barracks, but to my disappointment, I've discovered that it's not as temporary as I thought. When I first got here, people from my ship told me I would stay on the barge for "a few days," which turned into "a couple weeks," and now it's going on two months and I've been told that I may be here as long as 6-9 months, due to a ridiculously long waiting list for military housing.

A few people who arrived in Virginia before me advised that I should go to the housing office on base and ask about getting a room assignment, which is what they did. Last week, I went with a friend of mine to make the request and I was told that they're "not allowed" to give any more rooms to people from my ship because those rooms are reserved for sailors coming off a previously deployed ship.

I had been looking at the possibility of getting an apartment. I planned to move in with the girl I knew from "A" school, but after her Friday night shenanigans, that's out of the question. So now I'm considering a one bedroom apartment, but the cost of living here is way more than what I anticipated and the decent apartments are starting at $600 for a one bedroom (and I definitely don't have an extra $600 laying around in my bank account). Anything less than that is.....hood. As hell. And I can't do hood, no matter how bad my living situation is at the barge. The barge is shitty, but at least I'm not paying rent there. I'll be damned if I pay money to live in a shit hole.

After I left the housing office with my friend, my boyfriend called and he could tell from my tone that I was irritated. I've complained to him and my family about my dissatisfaction with where I'm living, so I didn't want to get into it again. He asked if I was okay and I said no, but I didn't want to talk about it. I was driving and I got lost so I told him I would call him back. Then he sent a text saying he wished he could make me feel better. I told him there wasn't anything he could do and that I might just be depressed. He kept saying he was "concerned," as if he thought I was on my way to jump off the nearest bridge, which I told him I wasn't (yet). I finally broke down and said I was tired of having to jump through hoops before I could go to school or live somewhere decent. He told me to be patient and everything would come to me. I've lost count of how many times I've heard that, whether it's from him, my mother, or my friends, and I told him that's why I didn't want to talk about it, because everyone says the same shit.

Then his panties got all in a bunch and he told me I didn't have to "come at him" like that. He said he was trying to uplift me, but he was sorry for trying. Poor thing. He has no idea that there's no uplifting in the world that can help when I get in one of my "fuck the world" moods. He said he didn't want me to be stressed out, and I told him stress is a part of life and he can't stop it. Then he hit me with this quote: "Stress never outweighs peace."

Hmmmm. That may be true for some, but in my experience, I've never been good at being at peace when I'm under a lot of stress. Besides, isn't it easy for him to preach about peace and all that bullshit when he's going home to a warm, spacious house? He doesn't have to practically live out of his car because there's not enough room for his shit in a tiny ass berthing. He doesn't have gnats flying around because people leave bags of trash sitting in the hallway for days. He doesn't have to sleep in a less-than-twin sized bed that kills his back every night.

I know. This is what I signed up for right? I'm being a diva, huh? Ehhh...whatever. That's how I feel right now.

Deja Vu.

2011-12-04T16:58:00.006-05:00

Do you ever find yourself attracting the exact same kind of friends no matter how many times you say you won't? It makes you have to look at yourself and ask what could be wrong with you if you end up in the same situations time and time again. With that being said....self, what the hell is wrong with you???

Let me back up a little. A few years ago when I lived in Atlanta, I became "friends" with a girl that was going to the same school. Initially she seemed pretty stuck up to me, but due to a mutual hatred of the institution we went to, we hung out more and more often, to the point where we were together every day. This girl was the complete opposite of me: loud and outgoing, heavy set, never seen without a sew-in weave, very flirtatious. Somehow though, we managed to get along for a significant amount of time. Eventually, I began to realize that she used her outspoken nature as a way to manipulate others, myself included. Although I'm a quiet person, I don't do well with being manipulated, so I cut the friendship off. This led to her writing me a lengthy and nasty Facebook message about how honored I should have been to be in her presence, which led to me blocking her and moving on with my life.

Fast forward to now. I don't know too many people here in Virginia, except a girl I used to be roommates with in "A" school. This girl is also the total opposite of me: loud and outgoing, heavy set, religiously wears a sew-in weave, very flirty (seeing the pattern here?). And again, we've managed to get along for a significant amount of time.

Until...............................

This past Friday, we make plans to go to her friend's apartment and have a few drinks before going to a club in town. We go to the club and it's okay, not a horrible place but nothing to write home about. We're there for an hour and a half to two hours tops, when my friend tells me she's been texting back and forth with her fuck buddy and he told her his roommate wants me to come over. I had gone over to her friend's place once before and his roommate barely talked to me, which didn't bother me much since I already have a boyfriend. However, this night at the club is a prime example of why liquor should never be mixed with decision making, because I agree to go over there with her again.

We drop her other friend off at home, then head to the dude's apartment. We get inside to find her friend, his roommate, and two other guys I've never seen before. I'm getting a feeling this isn't going to go the way my friend thought it would. I sit down and wait as she and the friend engage in the flirtatious bantering that seems to be a prerequisite to them going off to his room and getting it in. The shots of Hennessy I had earlier are making me drowsy, then I hear her friend call me to hang out with everyone in the kitchen. When I hesitate, he invites me out the balcony to have a "chat." Bad decision #2.

We get outside and he starts asking which of his friends I "want." I stare at him in confusion, and tell him I don't "want" either one of them. First of all, I have a boyfriend, second, neither of the guys are attractive or interesting to me, and third, I'm not in the business of fucking random niggas for the hell of it. Then his roommate comes out, saying he wouldn't mind being the chosen one but he has a crazy baby's mama. They go on for a while, asking if I'm shy and trying to convince me that it's "just sex." The roommate leaves, then the other dude goes into some other shit, implying that even though he's been sleeping with my friend, he wouldn't mind taking a shot at me. Then he says something about an orgy and I tell him to go talk to my friend because I'm done with this whole conversation. He asks if she's down, does that mean I am too? Again, I tell him to go talk to her.

She comes out to the balcony moments later and asks if I said I wanted to have an orgy. I tell her hell no, and she asks if I want to leave. I say yes, and we start to head out. As we're leaving, her friend says something to her that I don't hear then tells her he's going to have his sister fight her, which makes her go crazy. She's trying to fight him and his friend, while the rest of us are trying to break them up. We finally get her downstairs and to my car, then I realize that I left my phone upstairs in the whole frenzy. She's more than happy to go get my phone, as this will give her another opportunity to swing on some niggas. By the time she gets my phone, the police are pulling up.

They ask what we were doing, and she refuses to tell them anything. All she keeps saying is that she was going to get my phone off the charger and we were about to leave. I'm a sheltered child and I've never had many dealings with the cops, but I decide not to incriminate myself, avoiding the cop's questions when he asks what was going on. They take our IDs and head upstairs to talk to the guys. Moments later, the cops come downstairs and tell us we can go. On the way to the car, I tell her it was stupid for her to get into it with them, knowing we could have gotten in trouble for it. Her response: "Okay, but we didn't!"

Then she starts talking shit about how she was just trying to get my phone and I could have gotten it myself, and from now on she's not going anywhere, she's just going to stay posted in her room, blah, blah, blah. I'm tired of her dramatic bullshit and don't say anything else to her on the drive back to base. She gets out of the car without a word and storms off. I'm confused on how I was trying to stop her from doing dumb shit and now she's mad. I already know that will be the last time it ever happens. We're in the military now, so if we get taken in by the police, that will open up a whole world of trouble, but I guess that doesn't mean anything to someone who's intoxicated and angry that they missed out on some Friday night dick.

Anyway, I feel like this always happens to me. I get caught up with some Bad Girls Club wannabe and end up right in the middle of her drama. Then when I cut her off, it leaves me all by myself because she was so manipulative that she made sure no one else hung out with us. I don't want to befriend anyone else like that, but I don't know how I will stop it, since I thought I had learned my lesson after the girl I kicked it with in Atlanta.

Can't Get Away From It.

2011-11-07T19:03:00.003-05:00

Boredom, that is. I have lived in four different cities and I find myself being equally bored as fuck in all four cities. I know that I really only have myself to blame. I tell myself that I will go out and do new things and meet new people....and then I end up kicking it solo all the time anyway. I think I have a fear of rejection. I don't want to invite anyone to hang out only to be disappointed by their flakiness.

I have (had?) one friend here in Norfolk that I went to A school with. We went to Busch Gardens the first weekend I was here and that was fun. Then last weekend we went to Washington, D.C. and Cleveland for her birthday and that was fun too. But this past weekend...I guess she was on some other shit because she's depressed over this dude that's been playing her to the left since she had sex with him. I know it sucks to have a guy you like diss you so I'm not going to bother her, but then of course that leaves me being bored again. And of course I'm too lazy/fearful to try to make any new friends. There's only one other female at my job and I don't feel like I'm at the point where it would be cool for me to suggest hanging out with her. I can't quite put my finger on it. You know how people are friendly to you, but they still give off the vibe that they already have their circle of friends and you're not allowed to be in that circle? Yeah, that's how I feel about her. I'm still being treated like the new kid on the block so that's no fun.

When I first got here, everyone told me I needed to have a car or I would be bored out of my mind. Well, I got a car (that's another post) and I'm still bored. Now I'm just bored with a retarded ass car payment. Sorry, I'm complaining. Let me talk about something good (or kinda good).

My boyfriend told me he loved me for the first time the other day. It was through text, so I don't know if that counts??? And it was something like, "You treat me like a person, and I love you for that." So....yeah. I asked him how long he's been feeling like that and he said ever since I was going to A school in Chicago. Yikes. He's been saying that he wants to make me his wife, and he's talking about moving down to Virginia for us to be together.

On one hand, I wouldn't mind seeing him more often. At the same time, without putting his business on blast, I think there are some things (financially) that he would need to get together before coming here. I'm just now starting to get my shit together and it would be super frustrating to take on even more financial responsibility that I'm not ready for. Also, he hinted that if he moved here, he would want us to live TOGETHER and ummm....I don't know about all that. Call me old-fashioned, but I always had it in my head that I wouldn't live with anyone until we got married. The whole idea of "playing house" doesn't sit well with me. (I hope that doesn't offend anyone; if you live with your significant other that's totally cool, I just don't know if that's the right situation for me.) The idea of getting married scares me too though. When you're younger you always say, "When I get married..." but now that that shit could possibly be right around the corner, I'm freaking out. I don't know how to be anyone's wife! I'm selfish as hell, and sarcastic as hell, and moody as hell, and I never consult with anyone before I make a decision. To have to be somewhat dependent on another person gives me the chills.

As that old cliche goes, only time will tell....

Need Some Help.

2011-10-23T18:52:00.003-04:00

I made it here to Norfolk this past Thursday. It's kind of dull so far. That's probably due to the fact that I'm staying in what's called the "barge." That's basically a tiny, cramped ass compartment with coffin-sized bed spaces and equally small showers and bathrooms. There's no one else in there with me, except a girl who's on restricted duty and is getting kicked out of the military for coming into work hungover. This housing is supposed to be temporary until I get assigned to barracks or off-base housing, but it's still low-key depressing, especially since I don't know anyone here yet.

Which brings me to my next point. Everyone has been telling me that I NEED a car. I had already planned on getting one, but I wanted to wait it out a couple months until I had money saved up for a decent down payment and such. The thing is, being here, I don't think I can make it for a couple months with no transportation (the "shuttles" I was told about seemingly don't exist). I can apply through my credit union for a car loan but I'm hesitant to do that. I don't have too many bills except for a couple credit cards and my phone bill but I know a car means a car payment, gas, insurance, etc, etc. And I'm afraid. I've been super, duper, ridiculously broke before and I don't ever want to go back there.

I need some advice. My mom and my friends are telling me to just go for it. But I don't want to "just go for it" and end up in a bigger hole than what I already am. If there are any finance/car savvy folks out in the blogger world, a little advice would be most appreciated.

Uhhh....Err....Ummm....

2011-10-11T13:47:00.006-04:00

Sooooo......I think I'm in a relationship. This shit is weird, to say the least. I've known him for about six years, but we're just now "talking" so it's going to take a minute to make the transition from friends to boyfriend/girlfriend.

The thing is, I don't really know how to be anyone's girlfriend. I'll admit, I'm 24 years old and I have never been in a long-term relationship, so I'm used to doing things on my own. I never consult with anyone on what I'm going to do; I just do it. Now I have to think about what I do and how it will affect someone else. Like me being in the military. I don't think he's crazy about the idea of me serving....but there are times when I've contemplated staying in for 20 years. I mean, how awesome would it be to retire at 44? At the same time, I don't want to do it if it will cause tension between us.

The other thing is, I HATE talking about my feelings, so I probably come off as a bitch to him sometimes. He told me he had always wanted to kiss me but never did, because he thought I would karate chop him. I'm just not used to being affectionate. I don't know how to change that. Saying how I feel, telling someone my innermost thoughts, makes me feel extremely awkward, and awkward is not how I like to be. I'm pretty much in control at all times, so not being in control is strange...

Yeah. That's all I can say for now. Even blogging about this is awkward.

Bored Black Female in Norfolk???

2011-09-22T13:31:00.003-04:00

Soooo....I got orders to go to Norfolk, Virginia. Not sure how I feel about it. I mean, it WAS on my "dream sheet" but it was my THIRD choice! Oh well.

It's something new so hopefully it will give me some interesting things to talk about, because as of now, I have nothing. Anyway, I gotta run to class but I'll be back. Later blogger peeps.

I Told Y'all.

2011-09-16T19:17:00.004-04:00

Sigh.

I told y'all these new roommates were going to be a problem. One of them tried me already.

Let me back up and introduce them. There's one who's tiny and petite, so I'll call her Minnie. The other is from Chicago and her name from this point will be Yeezy. The other one...I haven't thought of a name for her yet, but she's not a part of this story so it doesn't matter.

So. Minnie is pretty young and seems to be concerned with having a man to call her own. She had a boyfriend back home, but he started acting up so they broke things off and now she is spending time with a couple guys on base. One of the guys that she's digging has been here since back when I reported to "A" school, and seems to be a player (or at least wants to be one). As a matter of fact, he was kicking it hard with my LAST roommate that moved out a couple months before Minnie and my other roommates got here.

Apparently Mr. Player saw Minnie studying with another guy and got tight about it. This led to an exchange of text messages with him accusing Minnie of acting "funny" towards him. Minnie insisted that she wasn't acting funny and told him she didn't want to be bothered if he was going to act like that with her. I assured her he wasn't worth the headache and gave her the scoop on his reputation.

As we're talking, Yeezy walks in the room and catches the end of our conversation. She asks if the boy that we're talking about lives in the same building as we do. Minnie says yes, then Yeezy wants to know who it is. Minnie hesitates a bit, then says she will tell Yeezy later. We finish talking, then Minnie leaves the room.

Immediately, Yeezy asks me, "Who were y'all talking about?" By now, I'm engaged in a game of "Words with Friends" and I'm more concerned about getting a double word score than indulging Yeezy's appetite for gossip. I tell her to hold on a minute. Suddenly she snaps, "If it's a secret, you don't have to tell me."

Pause.

I look up and tell her, "It's not a secret, but that's Minnie's business, and if she wants you to know, she can tell you."

That's not good enough though. Yeezy then repeats, "Yeah, but you don't have to tell me if it's a secret."

Double pause.

Since we're playing that game, I repeat myself AGAIN and tell her that Minnie can tell her if she wants her to know. Then Yeezy shuts the fuck up and goes to sleep. I can't say I'm surprised that she went there. In the couple weeks that she's been here, Yeezy has told me about a couple incidents where she "went in" on people for not doing what she wanted, and she seems like the type of person that gets impatient when people don't do what she wants WHEN she wants, but I'm not the one for that bullshit. I had planned to tell her who we were talking about, but since she couldn't be bothered with waiting for five seconds, I decided to let her ask Minnie if she really wanted to know. The way Minnie hesitated, it didn't sound like she wanted Yeezy in her business anyway.

Which brings me to today. Yeezy hasn't said a word to me. Hmm. Ask me if I give a fuck. No, really...ask me.

Blogger Fam: "Hey UCB, do you give a fuck if petty girls don't talk to you after getting shut down when they try you?"

UCB: "FUCK NO I don't!"

If things go smoothly, I should be done with the high school bullshit atmosphere in a little over two weeks. Hopefully no one gets too out of pocket before then.

Too Deep.

2011-09-15T12:25:00.003-04:00

Where to begin....

Okay, so I rejoined Twitter out of boredom and decided to follow a few random people. A guy I follow had some funny/interesting tweets and a website with some insightful posts. As I was looking through my timeline last night, I noticed he put up a new blog post. I went to the site, only to see that the post was actually written by a guest blogger, because the website moderator occasionally likes to show love to fellow bloggers. Cool. Nothing wrong with that.

The post was titled "Idris Elba Doesn't Know You." I should have known things could only go downhill from there. The author is addressing Twitter "heaux" (a fancy term for hoes....I guess) who tweet about all the sinful things they would do if they met Idris Elba, Trey Songz, or any other male sex symbol. He states that women can't go crazy over these celebs and expect to still be considered "wife material." Apparently finding a celebrity attractive makes one's "pussy value" go down and less worthy of being respected by "regular niggas."

The author goes on to say that men have celebrity crushes too, but it's not the same as women, because guys realize that they will never meet the celebrity in real life, whereas women usually refer to a celeb as their "boo." In conclusion, he lets women know not to expect a wedding ring if they are willing to have a one-night stand with their favorite celeb.

Oh...and then he posts a music video...or mixtape track...or something. I didn't bother pressing play.

Of course I had to voice my opinion. I commented, saying it's ludicrous to accuse a woman of being a "heaux" just because she has a crush on a celebrity. Moments later, the website moderator commented back, telling me that I was reading "too deep" into it and that the post was meant to be humorous; that it was up to me whether I laughed or not. Well...I didn't laugh because 1. The shit wasn't funny, and 2. It never ceases to annoy me when someone exhibits blatant misogyny/hatred and when they're called out on it, their defense is that the person calling them out didn't "get" the joke. No sir, I don't "get" it, because there's nothing to "get."

I'm often accused of looking too deeply into things and maybe sometimes I do, but I would rather do that than take everything for face value when it's obvious that someone is trying to insult me on the low. Anyone who has followed this blog long enough knows that my celebrity eye candy of choice is Michael Ealy, and when/if I ever meet him, if he's as charming as he is in his movies, hell yeah I would holla. But somehow that makes me a whore?? Meanwhile, average Joe over here can go on for hours about how bad he would "beat it up" if he ever met Rihanna, but it's cool because he knows he won't REALLY meet her.

Fuck outta here.

I'm Alive.....Barely.

2011-08-26T22:35:00.003-04:00

This is my "Hey I know I haven't posted in over a month so I'll try to condense the past month in a few short paragraphs" post.

At the moment, school rules my life. Mathematics/electrical troubleshooting is my master, and I am it's bitch. Yeah. Sounds sadistic, because it is. I go to class from 7:30 in the morning until 2:30 in the afternoon then turn around and go right back to school at 4:30 for open learning. Hopefully the long hours will pay off. Supposedly if I finish my course by September 6th, I will be able to advance to my job-specific training and be done with all this two weeks later.....unless I get put on some ridiculous medical hold or something. Let me not jinx myself though.

I am anxiously awaiting the day when I can kiss Great Lakes good-bye. I never thought I would say this, but it's even more boring here than back home. Like literally, all I do is go to school, eat, and sleep. I haven't been out in weeks. I guess that's my own fault for not reaching out and attempting to socialize with my shipmates, but at this point, I'm too jaded to be very sociable. Maybe I'll try a little harder in the "making friends" department when I get to my next duty station. I probably won't, but it never hurts to be faux-optimistic.

I'm planning on taking a trip back home for Labor Day weekend, so perhaps that will break up some of the monotony. Oh, and I have not one, not two, but three brand new roommates! Joy. I've met two out of three and they're tolerable so far, but that's only more motivation for me to hustle as hard as my brain will allow so I can get the hell up outta here.

I'll keep it short, because guess what? I'm getting up bright and early on a Saturday morning for more open learning. Til next time blogger world.

Silly Rabbit....BS Games are for Kids.

2011-07-30T18:31:00.002-04:00

I've come across many flaky/unreliable/tacky people in my life, but I'm always just as annoyed when I come across a new one. Nothing irks me more than my time being wasted. Even if I had nothing else to do, the fact that I put forth effort to kick it with someone only for them to bullshit and back out of it is enough for me to pretend like that person no longer exists.

Which brings me to last night's tale. My class just finished one of the hardest tests in our course and one of my shipmates suggests we go to the on-base club for a couple drinks to celebrate. I had exchanged numbers with him a while back and we hung out in a group before. He's one of those people that I refer to as a "group friend." They're cool, but there's something about them you can't quite put your finger on, that deters you from chilling with them one-on-one. The thing is, my roommate that usually served as a "buffer friend" (the friend who you stick with when the group friends go their separate ways), left a couple weeks ago to go to her duty station, so there was no one else to accompany me in the proposed celebration.

Against my better judgement, I agree to it. That night, I send a text asking what time he's going. He says after he eats at the galley (cafeteria for the civilian folks). A couple more hours pass, and I decide to do a little shopping at the store on base. I see him while I'm out, and he informs me he will be going around 9:30 or 10. Cool. I go back to my room and chill out for a couple hours. 9:30 passes, then 10, and still no text. Around 11, I start to change clothes for bed and put my hair up when I get a text saying he's at the spot.

I debate with myself for a few minutes about whether I should go check it out or just take my ass to bed. I am super relieved I passed that damn test, and if my other friends were still here, I would want to go out. On the other hand, I know this dude is uber-flaky. Like....short attention span doesn't even begin to describe it. And he's drinking? Shiiiit.

Again, I decide to head over to the spot against my better judgement. It's only about two seconds from my ship (building for the civilians) anyway. I get inside, get a drink, then text to see where he's at. No reply. I finish my drink and walk around a little, still don't see him. At this point, I decide I'm not searching anymore and I go back to my ship.

Now....maybe I'm just being a drama queen but....what the hell? Why are people so fucking flaky? Is it that hard to send a text message? Am I asking too much? Mind you, this is the same guy that is always boasting about how girls chase after him and blow up his phone because he's so fly. I never had any intentions of getting with him, because he has claimed that I'm his "little homie," but I've learned my lesson. I refuse to chase a nigga, "homie" or not. The fact that he dissed a so-called friend shows that he ain't shit anyway.

When people ask why I always fly solo, I will refer them to this post. I don't have time for the games.

Random Midnight Thoughts.

2011-07-18T01:54:00.002-04:00

I miss blogging. I miss being able to wake up at noon. I miss my family and friends, even though they worked my last nerve when I was around them.

I've been in this "A" school for over a month, and as usual, I don't fit in. There's a few associates I have, but no real "friends." Girls in the military are just as petty as girls in the civilian world....if not more. Dudes are only concerned with smashing as many chicks as possible. School days are long and boring. I try not to complain, because, as everyone loves to point out, I am getting paid to deal with all the BS, but it's still just that--BS.

I see the favoritism and politics that go on. I get told what to do by people who have no business being anywhere near a leadership position. I don't know if I can deal with this for 20 years. Maybe I'll just do my 4 years and be done with it. It's still early in the game.

I'm Baaaaaaaack!

2011-06-19T13:07:00.003-04:00

It's been so long since I posted on this thing that I don't really even know what to say.

I guess I should start with the obvious. I conquered the beast better known as boot camp. It was a long, bumpy ride, but I'm done with it and that's what matters. The experience was so complicated that I don't have enough time to write about it all right now, but it was worth it. I used to sort of poke fun at people who went on and on about how proud they were to wear their Navy (or other military) uniform, but now I am one of those people, so I have to take my jokes back.

Now I'm going to what they call "A" school, where I will be trained for my actual job in the Navy. I've only been here for a little over a week, but I can already tell this is going to be another interesting experience. Let's just say young kids with more money than they've ever had and nothing but time on their hands is a dangerous combination. I know it will be a challenge to keep my nose clean amidst all the craziness, but I'm going to try my damnedest. It would be a sad thing to miss out on the whole Navy experience over some stupidity.

I have more to say, but I'm still getting used to being back in civilization, so sitting at a computer for more than a couple hours makes me antsy. I missed my blog fam. I hope all is well with everyone!

An Uglycleanbroke Review of "Lasers."

2011-03-21T09:00:00.002-04:00

First, I'd like to give a shout out to Target and Best Buy for not even bothering to have the Lasers album in stock. As a matter of fact, when I approached a sales associate at Best Buy and asked if they had it anywhere, he gave me a "look" as if I was annoying the fuck out of him, and simply said, "NO." I didn't get a "We don't have it in stock, but would you like to order a copy?" Nothing. Therefore, I took my money elsewhere and bought the album from Amazon. So yeah. Fuck Target AND Best Buy.

Moving on. I've had Lasers on repeat for the past few days so I could give an honest and fair opinion of each track. I know everyone interprets music different ways, so if mine seems "off," it's only because I may have interpreted it differently than another listener.

1. Letting Go (featuring Sarah Green): The opening track on Lasers takes me back to the overall tone of Lupe's The Cool album. He raps about the battle between his old and new self. Judging by the fact that it took forever for his record label to release Lasers, I'm sure this track was Lupe's way of venting about the frustrations that came along with it. I can definitely relate to this song, and it's one of my favorites so far. The words "Things are getting out of control...feels like I'm running out of soul" sum up how I feel about life sometimes. I have always enjoyed Sarah Green's voice on other tracks with Lupe, so I'm glad to hear her being featured again.

2. Words I Never Said (featuring Skylar Grey): Another one of my favorites. I love the beat, and Lupe raps about issues including the war, foreclosure, and the media's tendency to report more on celebrities than pressing matters that actually affect society. I didn't realize Skylar Grey is the same person who sang the hook on Dr. Dre's "I Need A Doctor" but I am feeling her singing style, and it fits on this track nicely.

3. Till I Get There: It's a simple song, it gives me some "Kick, Push" vibes. I don't love it, but I may have to give it a few more listens.

4. I Don't Wanna Care Right Now (featuring MDMA): Eh, not really feeling this one. The beat is decent, but I could have gone my whole life without the overly-autotuned chorus. I guess this is Lupe's way of trying to have a more upbeat, club-friendly track but.......no.

5. Out Of My Head (featuring Trey Songz): I had my reservations when I saw Trey Songz' name listed as one of the featured artists on Lasers, and for good reason. I enjoy a lot of Trey Songz' music, but I realize that most of it is oversexed bullshit. And that's okay, because sometimes you need some oversexed bullshit in your life. With that being said, I had the feeling that Trey's bullshit vibes would influence this track. And I was right. Lupe said he wanted to make a song "for the ladies," but I struggled not to skip this song when giving the whole album a listen, simply because it is just that bad.

6. The Show Goes On: Another inspirational track from Lupe, mostly targeted towards kids "in the ghetto," to keep their heads up in spite of the less-than-ideal conditions of their surroundings. Maybe I can't relate to this song too much because I didn't grow up in the ghetto, so it's just okay to me.

7. Beautiful Lasers (2 Ways) (featuring MDMA): More autotune. Lupe's bars are pretty haunting on this track. In the second verse he reveals detailed thoughts of committing suicide, which I could also relate to, having had some down moments in my life as well. The lyrics are deep, but the autotune throws me off. I don't know who this MDMA guy is (or guys?), but I wish he wasn't featured on this album so much.

8. Coming Up (featuring MDMA): Sigh. You probably already know what I have to say about this one. Enough. Of. The. Fucking. AUTOTUNE. This seems like an album filler to me, so I don't have much to say about it.

9. State Run Radio (featuring Matt Mahafey): This track features Lupe's thoughts about the media's monopoly on what songs get airplay on the radio. He echoes thoughts I've had myself on the repetitive, unimaginative playlists that local radio stations shove down our throats every day. The hook is catchy; at this point I'm relieved that MDMA is not being featured yet again.

10. Break The Chain (featuring Eric Turner and Sway): Another track that will take a few more listens before I "get" it. That's all I've got for this one.

11. All Black Everything: I got a flash back to the old Lupe on this track. This is a "concept" song reminiscent of "The Die" from The Cool and "He Say She Say" from Food & Liquor, and I love it. Lupe reflects on how the world would have turned out if it was "all black." It's another song with deep lyrics, but the beat still makes you want to ride around and vibe to it. This is another of my favorites.

12. Never Forget You (featuring John Legend): Ummm.....I must be a cold bitch because I am not feeling this track either, and I'm sure this is meant to be another "uplifting" song. I've never really cared much for John Legend, so his hook annoyed me a little, and I haven't yet paid a lot of attention to Lupe's lyrics either. I suppose they needed something mellow to end the album with, but I could have done without this one too.

Overall, the album was decent. I know a lot of blood, sweat, and tears went into it, on Lupe's part as well as his fans. However, the random club tracks and features of the current "hot" artists turned me off a bit. The main reason I've always loved Lupe's style is because he was below the radar, and therefore didn't seem to be too affected by mainstream influences. Lasers seems to be the album meant to please the masses, with a few vintage Lupe tracks thrown in for long-time fans. I'll always support Lupe and I know he has to do what he has to do to stay afloat in the industry, but in my opinion, I would still vibe out to The Cool over Lasers any day.

Uglycleanbroke Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★★

Why?

2011-03-09T00:52:00.003-05:00

I've stared at this photo much longer than I probably should have, and I still can't think of ONE good reason why Jesus would allow this to happen. Not one.

Red Bottoms.

2011-03-09T00:05:00.005-05:00

This post probably should have gone on my fashion blog. I try to keep it professional over there, but this is my uncensored opinion on a fashion related topic, so here it goes.

Recently, video model Dollicia Bryan did an interview where she threw shade at fellow video model Rosa Acosta, regarding comments Rosa made last year about choosing to feed her family and pay for education, rather than spending crazy amounts of cash on Christian Louboutins, better known as "red bottoms."

If you don't feel like watching the video, I don't blame you, because Dollicia was saying a bunch of nothing. I mean, she "speaks well," but her opinion was a bit incoherent and overall silly. Basically she was mad because Rosa made those comments, then turned around and rocked a pair of Louboutins in a couple photos she posted on Twitter. Dollicia made it clear that she spends her OWN money to buy red bottoms and she doesn't really respect another girl who can only get the shoes as a gift or hand-me-down.

Girl.

Stop.

I'll start off by saying this: anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE me some expensive shit. I knew all the top fashion designers before I even knew my multiplication tables. My mom has no idea where I got my expensive taste from, because she could care less about name-brand clothes. Before brokeass-ness came into my life, it didn't bother me at all to spend $300+ on a handbag. I still like designer clothes, and when I have the means to buy a pair of Louboutins, I'm sure I will. Some call it materialistic, but I disagree. There are people out in the world who spend thousands of dollars "collecting" vintage cars. That's how I am with shoes and bags. I could give a damn if anyone knows how much money I spent on a purse, but I just feel better knowing I have it in my possession.

I can appreciate a pair of Louboutins, or Jimmy Choos, or Gucci heels, or whatever. At the same time, I'll snatch up a pair of Jessica Simpson or Bakers heels in a heartbeat. For Dollicia to act like owning Louboutins is the final destination in life, was a little absurd to me. On top of that, who the hell does she think she is that she can call out all the girls who don't wear expensive shoes to events, or who don't purchase those shoes on their own? If you've "arrived" at some holy fashion peak, why do you care about what shoes someone else can or cannot afford?

I think there is a difference between having an appreciation for the "finer things," and being a label whore. Dollicia is clearly the latter. To sit and make a damn near 7-minute video about "red bottoms" makes that painfully obvious. Once red bottoms are no longer in style, she's going to be the same dumb bitch with thousands of dollars worth of shoes wasting away in her closet, while she makes another long ass video, telling everyone they ain't shit if they don't own a plethora of "yellow bottoms," or whatever shoes the fashion industry tells her are "in" at the moment.

Tired.

2011-03-06T19:33:00.002-05:00

I'm too frustrated to write a lot. I'm just exhausted. I took a week off from work, did absolutely NOTHING, and I'm still tired.

I spent about $300 to get my car fixed and now it won't start at all. I want to sue the auto shop that "fixed" it....or get a refund or something. But lawsuits/complaints take time and energy that I don't have. Now I have to go through the same bullshit that I was trying NOT to go through by paying to get my car fixed. Do I shell out even more money to get a rental? Beg one of my family members for a ride? FUCK! I'm tired of doing this shit.

I put in my two weeks notice at work, but I feel like just quitting now...especially since getting to work is going to be such a hassle again. But of course I need money to pay my bills. I find it amusing that with all the instability and change that comes in life, the only thing that's consistent is the monthly bill for insurance, credit cards, etc.

Tears are falling on the keyboard as I type. Maybe the shitty situations that come up wouldn't be so hard to deal with if I had someone to talk to. I know some people would advise me to talk to God but I don't really like to; He never talks back. There's more I could say, but I can't right now. I'm too blinded by hurt and anger to go on.

No Heterosexual Man.............

2011-02-27T17:59:00.010-05:00

..............Should ever dye his hair. At least that's the comment that I saw on another blog after Chris Brown posted a pic of his new platinum blonde 'do.

Reading that comment amused and annoyed me all at the same time. I have a brother who dyes his hair frequently (as a matter of fact, he just dyed his hair blonde this past week for the 60,000th time). He's a heterosexual, although his sexuality has been called into question before, based on superficial "guidelines" people have for straight men. Quite often in the media, and in everyday life, there seems to be a double standard on what each gender can get away with. Women are pretty liberated with the style choices they make, but for men, apparently there is some unofficial rulebook on what straight men can and cannot wear, and can and cannot do.

To be honest, I've been guilty of seeing a guy do something that I found to be questionable, and I found myself thinking, "This dude is gay....." For example, just the other day, I was unfortunate enough to come across a leaked semi-nude pic of the rapper Young Berg. Go here to check out the NSFW photo if you dare. I don't know....something about his pose, the way he pursed his lips just so, the Blackberry Pearl, all gave me some serious gay-dar vibes. In this situation, I think my suspicions are valid, but I digress. My point is, what is it that's wired into us to automatically think hair color, or wearing certain jeans, or anything else, is not acceptable if a man is straight? Yet, I never hear anyone make comments like, "No heterosexual woman should shave her head bald" or "No heterosexual woman should wear sagging pants."

There have been more than enough publicized instances, in which the stereotypically masculine man turned out to be on the DL, so I really don't understand why people still make such generalized comments as the one mentioned above. The comment was made by a woman, which makes it all the more ridiculous to me, because women are the main ones that will reject a man for a stupid reason like "He dyed his hair blonde, and no heterosexual man should do that." These same women turn around and get sprung on a "manly man," then are heartbroken when it turns out the same dude is creeping with one of his homies.

I guess I have to start with myself though, and be more conscious of not immediately throwing up "He's gay" flags, the moment a guy does or wears something that society says is unacceptable for a heterosexual man.

Just Stop.

2011-02-26T20:35:00.021-05:00

For all the Twitterers out there, you may have caught the latest celebrity beef on the social networking site, brought to us by none other than Little Miss Sunshine aka Rihanna, and "Goodies" singer Ciara.

I'm sure a lot of you have seen or heard about the beef by now, so I'll just give a quick rundown of how it started. Ciara made an appearance on E!'s "Fashion Police," where Rihanna was listed as a fashion offender. (If you haven't seen the clip, you can check it out here.) After the other panelists on the show gave their commentary, Ciara mentioned that Rihanna wasn't the "nicest" when the two singers ran into each other at an event. The show's host Joan Rivers chimed in with more blatant terms and exclaimed, "A bitch.....next!"

Of course, Rihanna stans got wind of the alleged "diss" and started going in on Ciara. Rihanna decided to get in on the action herself and tweeted some cutting remarks in reference to Ciara's lukewarm career. The two went back and forth shortly, before Rihanna~~'s publicist~~ gave an apology. The whole thing probably lasted about an hour, but everyone is still talking about it, and of course, the Rihanna "Navy" is praising their queen for publicly shitting on a fellow artist.

I honestly just want to know when these celebs will grow up. From what I saw in the "Fashion Police" clip, Ciara didn't seem like she was being malicious toward Rihanna. As a matter of fact, it appears to have been edited, as if someone had asked her a question about Rihanna not related to her fashion choice, and Ciara was simply answering the question. For Rihanna to come back the way she did was extremely catty, and only seemed to further illustrate the point Ciara previously made. I've seen comments that Rihanna had "every right to be upset" about what was said, but I've heard people say far worse about Rihanna and she never retaliated. She didn't take shots at Donald Trump for his claims about her skipping out on that charity event, or David LaChapelle for his allegations that she carbon-copied his artwork in her "S&M" video. But the chick who sang "1, 2 Step" says she's not nice, and all hell breaks loose? C'mon son.

In the event that Ciara's remark was not the product of editing magic, and was indeed intended to throw unnecessary shade, she gets a supreme side eye. I'd rather she focus on giving us some of that good ol' Crunk 'n B she was known for back in the day. As for Rih....hmph. Her antics since the "Chrianna" situation have been questionable to say the least, in my opinion. Her team has done a commendable job of keeping her in the spotlight thus far, but I don't know how long the "Rihanna reign" will last with all that strained-ass singing and stiff dancing she does. My personal recommendation for Rih is that she stays off Twitter, takes vocal lessons, and learns some dance moves that involve more than winding her pussy, before she finds herself struggling to book performances.

This Can't Be Life.

2011-02-15T22:35:00.004-05:00

The customers who call my job are hilarious. They don't realize that they're hilarious, but they are. These people are so petty, and so negative, and so unequipped to handle life's mishaps that sometimes I think I'm being Punk'd when I answer the phone. *Some* people have legitimate complaints, and most of the time those are the ones that DON'T request to speak with upper management. But the others.....boy. I've had callers complain about "dropped calls" when they live in the middle of Buttfuck, Wyoming, people who demand to be sent a phone free of charge because theirs was dropped and now has a huge crack in the screen, just a little of everything.

Anyway, the "Asshole of the Day" award during today's shift goes to a man who called and immediately sounded annoyed when I asked him to verify his account and social security number. When I asked how I could be of assistance, he told me a phone had been shipped to him and he received a packing slip at his door that said "Delivery Attempted." He demanded to know what that meant. I paused for several seconds, trying to figure out how in the hell I could explain that; it seemed pretty self-explanatory. I repeated his question to make sure I understood what he was asking, and he scoffed as if I was an idiot. I explained to him that we always make customers aware that when a package is being delivered, it is at the driver's discretion whether or not to leave that package at the mailing address, or to leave a slip stating that a delivery was attempted. He continued demanding to know why the driver didn't just leave the package at his address. Apparently my explanations weren't good enough, so he then exclaimed, "You're useless!" and hung up.

BLANK. FUCKING. STARE.

You mean to tell me you took the time out of your day to call ME, had the nerve to act like you were perturbed over verifying your information, then expected ME to explain why the damn USPS driver didn't leave your package at your house? Hey genius.....how about you call USPS?!? Shit, all the time you spent complaining about it, you could have taken your lazy ass to the post office and picked it up. The next time somebody calls asking me some dumb shit, I'm going to tell them I have to place them on a 1-hour hold while I look in my crystal ball.

It's Me Again.

2011-02-13T16:27:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's been a minute since I posted anything. I would apologize but........why? I've been working like a modern day slave, and besides that, I just haven't been motivated to write anything lately. That's pretty fucked up, considering the fact that writing is (or was?) my passion.

It's about that time for another emo post, so here we go. I'm pretty sure that I am currently in the middle of a quarter-life crisis. Or maybe a pre-quarter-life crisis? I dunno...but whatever it is, that's what I'm in the middle of. It's kind of like an out-of-body experience, where the "real" me is watching a shell of myself living mundane day-to-day life. This shell only seems to be capable of doing things it's obligated to do, rather than things that it wants to do. The shell goes to work every day and puts up with bullshit from rude, selfish, petty customers not because the shell wants to, but because the shell knows that if it doesn't, bills will pile up, and Sallie Mae, Commerce Bank, Mohela, and everyone else will have the shell on speed dial to find out where their money is. In between work, the shell buys groceries and gas, because those items are needed to survive. The shell jogs on the treadmill 2-3 times a week, not because the shell wants to, but because the shell doesn't want to be weak and out of shape for boot camp. In between work, running errands, and working out, the shell tries to get as much sleep as possible, and accompanies family members to the birthday parties of family friends. Not because the shell wants to, but because the shell doesn't want to be seen as a non-socializing bitch.

So this is it, I guess. At the age of 23, I feel like I'm in my mid-40s. I don't know when--or if--it will get better. I've made my decision to go to the military and if that goes as planned, I'm pretty sure I'll be going through the same cycle of not doing what I want to do, but doing what I'm obligated to do. The Navy will decide where I'm stationed, whether I can switch my job, whether I can live on my own or not, blah, blah, blah. If I were straight out of high school, maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal, but I've been "on my own" for 5 years, and still have yet to attain the freedom that I so desperately craved as a teenager. I know the benefits of my decision, but I can't ignore the nagging feeling that taking orders from others is just going to stifle the freedom that I want even more.

I've said this several times, but I need a vacation. I don't know where yet, but I have to get out of town. Last year I didn't do shit as far as traveling. I went to Charlotte for my birthday and Atlanta for my friend's birthday and that was it. I've got to do better. One of my friends is currently studying abroad in Paris, and I just found out some of my other friends went to Norway for Christmas and New Year's. Yes, I'm jealous. I need to be doing some shit like that. Even if I can't go out of the country right now, I at least need to get out of St. Louis. I thought about driving to Chicago to visit with my dad and his side of the family since I haven't seen them in years....but the more I think about it, the more I'm like, "Ehhh...err...no." I don't feel like spending my money and gas just to be bombarded with dumb-ass comments like "Girl, you still so skinny!" or "You ain't got a boyfriend?!" I don't have time for the petty shit. I want to enjoy my time off. Hell, I'm even contemplating visiting my "frenemies" from Atlanta.

So....yeah, that's what's going on in my neck of the woods. I'll try to think of some less depressing shit to blog about later.

Some People Never Change.

2011-02-01T21:29:00.004-05:00

Don't you hate when an old friend and/or acquaintance sends you a friend request on Facebook? If you're like me, you don't want to add that person because you don't want them seeing what you're up to, and you really don't care to see what has been going on in their lives either. But then there is the small part inside you that feels a twinge of guilt if you ignore the request.

I had this minor dilemma when the daughter of my mom's old friend sent a friend request yesterday. I accepted it, only because I knew she was probably just adding me for the hell of it and I wouldn't have to worry about that fake-ass "catching up" bullshit that people do when they haven't talked in years.

After accepting the request, I take a look at her profile and notice that not a damn thing about her has changed. She has married her high school boyfriend and now has two small children, but personality-wise, nothing has changed. Back when I knew her, this girl was one of the "holy rollers" who does nothing but talk about how sinful everyone else in the world is. This girl believed there were two sins that would give you a first-class ticket to hell: fornication and homosexuality. She prided herself on the fact that she was a virgin and was "saving" herself for marriage, and she had made it her life's goal to marry her boyfriend before she turned 18. Being the non-holy roller that I am, I thought she was completely insane. Even though I never said a word to her about her beliefs, I'm pretty sure she could tell I didn't agree. I've been told that my facial expressions give me away, and I distinctly remember that my side eye was in full effect whenever she would go off on her tirades about gay people and anyone that has sex before they get married.

Anyway, fast forward to some of her recent status updates. She's still writing paragraphs on how wrong homosexuality is, and chastising girls who have sex before marriage, because of "all the STDs out there." The names "Jesus," "God," or "Lord" are used in just about every post. Meanwhile, she also posts about how good her husband is in the bedroom, while threatening to cut any girl that tries to take him away from her. o_O

Most of the shit on her page is pure comedy to me, due to all the grammatical errors and her borderline-schizophrenic thought process. At the same time.....it's just sad. It takes everything in me not to write on her wall, "GROW THE FUCK UP!!!!!" After all these years, you mean to tell me you're still caught up in this juvenile drama of a girl trying to "take your man"? If he's as wonderful as you claim in all of your other status updates, why is that even an issue worth writing about? If you're not gay, why the hell are you concerned about what other people are doing with their lives? Why don't you stop ranting on Facebook, telling everybody they're going to hell, and worry about getting your education and taking care of your little boys?

Ugh. I know I just went on a little rant myself, but holier-than-thou folks who are constantly throwing stones really grind my gears. I may not always agree with the way other people live their lives, but I have never taken it upon myself to determine where they're going in the "afterlife" because of it. That shit is just nutty.

Update.

2011-01-25T19:23:00.004-05:00

I didn't get disqualified from the Navy. I suppose I was being my usual paranoid and melodramatic self. :-/

I took my mom with me for moral support in case I had a nervous breakdown. My recruiter was there, but I didn't see the chief around anywhere. My recruiter informed us that the chief had to go downtown to assist another Navy recruit and would be back soon. He told me about how the chief had "spazzed" when he spoke with him on the phone the night before about my tattoo, and mentioned that that would qualify me to be discharged. My recruiter told him it wouldn't, since I didn't get a tattoo on my face or hands, so it was still within regulations. For some reason, the chief still wanted to have a chat with me anyway. We sat down to wait, and my mom and recruiter gabbed about parenting issues while I twiddled my thumbs in nervousness.

11:00 came and went, and the chief still hadn't shown up. Eventually he called my recruiter, who told him we had been waiting in the office for a while and asked if he wanted to talk to me on the phone. A few minutes later, my recruiter got off the phone and told me that the chief was still downtown and all I needed to do was write yet ANOTHER statement about why I got my tattoo. I filled out the form, we finished chatting, and that was it.

*Wipes sweat from forehead*

That scare made me realize that I really am serious about going to the military. Honestly, I wasn't feeling it in the beginning, but I know that I don't want to be in St. Louis forever and this is the best way I know of to move toward my career and life goals. So no more impulsive, stupid decisions. I will not be getting any more tattoos......at least not until after boot camp.

Anxiety.

2011-01-25T00:23:00.004-05:00

I don't know if I ever mentioned this on the blog before, but I got my second tattoo back in October. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal; however......I got the tattoo while I was in Navy DEP. (I still am in DEP by the way, at least for the time being, but I'll get to that later.)

Some of you may laugh at what I got. After starting my fashion blog, I became semi-obsessed with that "Moda Ribelle" phrase, so I searched far and wide for the perfect font to get the words tattooed on my shoulder. Once I decided on the font, I dragged my brother along with me to the tattoo shop. It only cost 40 bucks and took the guy about 10 minutes to complete. I loved it.....and then it hit me. I kinda sorta wasn't supposed to get any body art and/or piercings before going to boot camp. Oops.

I told my recruiter about it, and he didn't seem to think much of it. He had me fill out some form explaining the who, where, when, why, and how of my tattoo placement and that was about it. That was three months ago, but my decision may have come back to bite me in the ass.

I got a call from my recruiter's chief last week, asking me if "anything had changed" and he went on to ask if I was having second thoughts about going to the Navy. I told him no, I've actually been trying to get in shape for boot camp. He told me they have too many people waiting to ship out, and they are canceling DEP contracts for people that don't want to go. I'm not sure if that was meant to be a scare tactic to see who is really serious about joining the military, but I assured him that I didn't have plans of flaking out at the last minute.

Then I went to my recruiter's office earlier today to fill out some paperwork. The tattoo subject came up again, but once again, my recruiter didn't say much about it. After I got off work, I got a call from him saying I need to come into his office tomorrow because the chief wants to "talk" to me about my tattoo.

Oh shit.

It may not sound like a big deal to anyone else, but any time someone wants to "have a talk" with me, it never turns out well. I've come to expect the worst in most situations because in my life, the worst thing that can happen always does happen.

Now my throat is dry, my chest hurts, and my stomach is in knots. Every minute that goes by seems to last an hour. How embarrassing is it going to be to tell everyone that I got disqualified from the Navy because of a $40 tattoo of my fucking blog name? I told my mom about it and she laughed at me. Nice.

I know if the worst case scenario does manifest, I can't be mad at anyone but myself. I knew the rules but like my usual hard-headed self, I did what I wanted anyway. Which is another reason why I wanted to go to the Navy, to hopefully break me of that habit. I have to stop writing about this now. I'm getting depressed just thinking about what's going to happen.

Spare The Rod.

2011-01-07T09:00:00.002-05:00

*Disclaimer: This post is in regards to MY beliefs on spanking and interacting with children. I am well aware that I am not a parent and have no plans of being one in the near future. However, I cannot be bothered with the people who love to say, "You can't talk about parenting issues if you don't have kids." I talk about whatever I want. If you don't like it, you've been warned. :)

While blog-cruising the other night, I came across a World Star Hip-Hop video of an uncle who had apparently caught his teenage nephew "faking his gangsta" on Facebook. The uncle was obviously pissed, as he explained to viewers that their family isn't about that "gangsta" shit, and proceeded to pull out a belt and whip his nephew several times for his indiscretion. You can check the video out here.

I went on to read through the comment section as I normally do, and reactions to the video ranged from kudos to the uncle for his actions, to amusement at how completely humiliated the young boy must have been. I was not amused by the video at all. To be honest, I found it to be contradictory that this man was chastising his nephew for pretending to be "gangsta," and chose to teach him a lesson by spewing profanity and using violence. In my opinion, that seems pretty fucking gangsta.

Of course, I felt the need to speak my piece on the video. I mentioned that I had been spanked just a few times as a child, but my parents decided to stop spanking me and my two younger siblings. I stated that I have no plans to spank when/if I have any children, and that there are alternative methods to discipline children.

I got an immediate rebuttal from another poster whose argument is that there are just some bad-ass kids out in the world that "need" to be spanked. She mentioned that she was a bad kid, and had come in contact with other bad kids in her lifetime who would have benefited from a beating or several. She then told me that I was condemning other people's beliefs, and went on to say that it was "asinine" to say that no children should be spanked.

I countered by using myself and my siblings as an example again. My sister and I have always had fairly laid-back personalities and never required much supervision, but my brother was one of those "bad" kids that most people think "needed" to be spanked. He got into everything imaginable, and I'm pretty sure he drove our parents up the wall when we were younger. However, my mother still found different ways to discipline him when he acted out. She found different ways to discipline ALL of us when we acted out. I remember being in the 2nd grade and giving her attitude about whatever it is that 2nd graders get attitudes about. At the time, I was obsessed with reading Goosebumps and The Babysitters Club novels. Because of my attitude, my mother decided to take away my books. In a desperate attempt to negotiate with her, I requested a spanking rather than being stripped of my favorite reading materials. That was a no-go, and the books were taken until I got my act together.

As I got older, the punishment for misbehavior intensified. And I'm not talking about the bullshit punishment that a lot of kids get nowadays, where they sit on the couch for about an hour mean-mugging everyone until Mom and Dad get annoyed and send them off to play. I'm talking about 24-hour lockdown, where I would do nothing but sit in a room staring at the walls. There was no TV, games, music, Internet, books, NOTHING. If I mouthed off about said punishment, that got me an additional day tagged onto my sentence. Yes, that's what it felt like. A prison sentence. Once again, I would have preferred a swift slap to the face or a couple belt whippings, but those were not options in my house.

There ARE other ways to discipline children; you just have to be creative about it. I think most people choose to resort to the "tried and true" method of spanking because it's simple. Little Kayla takes a toy from her younger brother, he starts crying, you pop her on the butt a few times, and she sits in a corner whimpering for the next half hour. But what is that teaching her? It's teaching her that any time someone does something you don't like, you hit them. And we wonder why there is such an issue with domestic violence, and violence in general, in the community--especially in the African-American community. Most people's opinions seem to lie on extreme sides of the spectrum: you either spank your kids, or you let them do as they please with no repercussions. I don't believe in either one. Too many times I've seen parents who spank their kids, then send them off to play video games, hang out with their friends, and get on their cell phones. It has gotten to the point where spanking is simply a formality; kids know the drill, so they take that whooping, then go about their business. Spanking is a quick fix that is all but forgotten once the sting of the belt fades.

I could say even more, but I'll stop there. Let the blog attacks begin.

There Goes Another One.

2011-01-06T09:00:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite female R&B artists, Jazmine Sullivan, announced earlier this week that she will be taking a break from the music industry. The announcement was made via (where else?) Twitter, and subsequently deleted (surprise). Basically, she was saying that being in the industry is no longer something she enjoys and she needs time to find herself.

As a Jazmine Sullivan mini-stan, I must say I was disappointed to hear this. I think she has a beautiful voice, and she is one of the few artists in the music industry with real talent. I also copped a little attitude due to the fact that several bloggers, including one that I LOVE, decided to post on Jazmine only after she announced that she will be taking a break from music. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like there has to be just a TEENY bit of shade that is being thrown when these same bloggers never bothered to post any entries on Jazmine's album release or anything. But as soon as she seems to be throwing in the towel, everyone wants to give her some recognition? Typical.

I have to wonder if this "break" she is taking has anything to do with not-so-stellar album sales from her "Love Me Back" album, which was released less than two months ago. I bought the album and there are a few tracks that I like, but ultimately I prefer her first album. I did a little Googling and found that she sold about 57,000 copies of her second album in the first week. I'm not a Billboard charts buff, but I'm assuming those numbers were not pleasing to the powers-that-be at her record label, and we all know what happens when record label execs are not pleased.

So there goes yet another artist who made the silly mistake of relying on talent rather than gimmicks when creating her music. Another artist that seems to be pushed to the background along with the likes of Janelle Monae, Lupe Fiasco, and Melanie Fiona. That pisses me off. Why can't Soulja Boy, or Wacka Flocka, or Nicki Minaj, take a break from music? Oh that's right, because if any of these artists recorded themselves taking a shit, the world would gasp in amazement and claim that those are the best bars they've ever heard. Because the masses would rather "do it with no hands" and pretend that they're Barbies, than support music with substance.

That's just the world we live in. Maybe I should join the crowd and cop me a pink wig, some false eyelashes, and make distorted, semi-retarded facial expressions while rapping along with nursery rhyme lyrics.

And The Winner Is...................

2010-12-30T09:00:00.001-05:00

I know most blogs and/or television networks usually compile a "Best & Worst of (insert the year)" list honoring the highs and lows that occurred within the past several months. On the same token, I would like to highlight some of the questionable folks that graced us with their presence this year.

Jumpoff of the Year: Tiger Woods' mistress(es)

This year it seemed that everyone and their mama had done the unmentionable with Tiger Woods when the now infamous scandal first surfaced. Hell, if I weren't black, I would have thought I had an affair with Tiger Woods too. Since the initial spectacle, I haven't heard much regarding any other indiscretions from America's kinkiest golfer. Here's hoping that Tiger behaves himself in 2011.

Attention Whore of the Year: Raz-B/Kat Stacks

This one is a tie, simply because both of these wannabe celebs have been equally annoying this past year. They seemed to be in competition to see who could release the most Youtube and World Star Hip Hop videos "exposing" other pseudo-celebs, and both were known for being completely reckless with their tweets. However, since Kat Stacks has been deported (I think) we may not be hearing much from her in the future.....unless Venezuela has World Star Hip Hop. As for Raz-B....le sigh. In true attention whore fashion, he decided to close the year out with a bang by instigating Twitter beef with Chris Brown just yesterday. (And C.Breezy took the bait like a toddler snatching a handful of candy. But that's another post.)

Phonetically-Challenged Celeb of the Year: Waka Flocka Flame

Everyone's favorite ~~dummy~~ hood rapper Waka Flocka made lovers of the English language hang their heads in shame when he appeared on BET's 106th & Park, and could barely articulate complete sentences when being interviewed about his thoughts on voting and education. He gave us unforgettable quotes like "Voting cool" and shared his aspirations of going to college and majoring in Geometry. Sadly, I don't believe this is the last we will be hearing from Waka, as his hood-tastic music can still be heard on a radio station near you. God help us all.

Comeback of the Year: Chris Brown

I'm hesitant to even speak on this category, because Chris Brown's recent e-beef with Raz-B has me annoyed, but I actually think 2010 was a decent year for him, in spite of his immature Twitter outbursts. He re-captured the hearts of America by snot-slinging and hyperventilating mid-performance at the BET Awards and released a couple dope mixtapes. Not to mention the Grammy nomination for "Deuces," which is one of my favorite songs of 2010. I'll try to be optimistic and keep my fingers crossed that C.Breezy will cut down on the Internet thug nonsense, and focus more on his music in the upcoming year.

15 Minute Fame-Stretcher of the Year: Antoine Dodson

Welp, there's not a whole lot to say about this. I already gave my opinion on Antoine's increasingly desperate attempts to extend the hype that was created due to his "Bed Intruder" fame. I respect the fact that he managed to turn a tragedy into a profit......but enough is enough. It's time for Mr. Dodson to use that "Bed Intruder" money to start a business, and get the hell out of the limelight.

Clown of the Year: Soulja Boy

This could have gone to a few different celebs, but Soulja Boy gets the honor of being presented with such a prestigious award this year. After all, who else can say that they were caught on tape with hip-hop's most toxic groupie (i.e., Attention Whore of the Year winner Kat Stacks), accused of being a coke head by that groupie, then confessed on radio that they love that same groupie? I can't think of anything more clownish. Well, I can, but that's pretty high in the rankings of clownishness. Add the Twitter beef with Fabolous (what is it with these young male celebs?), garish displays of jewels and money, and shallow but catchy hip-pop music, and voila. 2010, aka the Year of the Clown for Soulja Boy. I have a feeling this may be a reoccurring theme for him though. o_O

2010 & Beyond.

2010-12-27T09:00:00.003-05:00

Last year around this time, I did a New Years post listing goals I had lined up for 2010 and some things I had accomplished the year before. Looking back at old shit is so funny, because the end of 2010 is upon us, and I realize that I accomplished about.....5 of the goals on my list. Probably more like 4.5, but I'm trying to make myself feel better. I'll leave it up to you guys to guess which goals were achieved.

Anywho, I don't really feel like making a "list" of things that I want to accomplish for 2011. I have some things that I want to do of course, but I almost think that making a list puts me in a box and does not allow me to switch things up if needed. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a planner. The fact that I plan shit to death is the reason why my life feels so upside down now, because I had all these grand plans that fell through. One thing that I'm trying to do is have a "general" plan, but also leave room to adapt in case every single step of that plan doesn't fall perfectly in place.

I also find it interesting that for the past two years, I have been in a completely different place (physically) than I was before. This time last year, I was working at my comfy job in the snooty suburbs of Georgia, living with roommates that I hated and who probably hated me. I was doing okay financially, but I was pretty lonely out there all by myself. I spent New Year's Eve at work, and on New Year's night I went out on a semi-date with a guy that I wasn't really interested in just because I was bored. This year I will be at work on New Year's Eve again. I'm living with family that.....annoys me, and who are probably annoyed by me. I'm doing okay financially, and surprise! Still lonely. I guess that's just the reoccurring theme for me. I'll have to work on that. I probably won't do shit on New Year's Day but eat and sleep, and then I think I have to work the next day. Boy, this sounds exciting, doesn't it?

Starting a new year isn't the same as it was for me before. I used to get all hyped about the big changes I was going to be making, and then I realized that most things ended up staying the same. If things go according to plan THIS year, it will probably be the most drastic change in my life so far, seeing that I'll be in the military and all. Everyone says joining the military changes your life, but we'll see. I don't want to get too worked up, only to find out that life on a ship is exactly the same as life in the suburbs of St. Louis or Atlanta.

A couple things that I really do need to work on though would be my fashion blog and getting in shape. I feel ashamed that I haven't put as much effort into my other blog as I wanted to. That has to change. As for getting into shape.....that kind of goes along with the whole "getting ready for the Navy" thing. I know they're gonna work my ass and I need to be prepared for it. I don't want to be the slacker who didn't do any type of physical activity before getting to boot camp. I can imagine that won't be pretty.

What was the point of all this again? Hmmm.....I have no idea. Just throwing out some thoughts on how I feel about the months to come. All I can do is look forward to what will happen and the experience I'm sure to gain no matter what path I head toward. Damn, that sounded philosophical and corny as hell. Don't mind me. I'd like to hear what everyone else is looking forward to in 2011 as well.

Doing Entirely Too Much.

2010-12-23T09:00:00.006-05:00

So I spotted this coonery floating around on the Internet, and it's SO coon-ish I feel like a coon just for posting it. Oh well.

I feel like this video should be titled "When Having No Talent Other than Being a Hoodrat Becomes Painfully Obvious." Like, really Antoine? STOP! I am willing to brave the projects of Lincoln Park to find this child, grab him by the shoulders, look him square in the eyes and tell him, "STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Someone has to do it. If it doesn't end now, when will it ever end? What's next: Easter Intruder? St. Patrick's Day Intruder? President's Day Intruder? I can't take it; I don't have the strength. I feel like Antoine is that annoying ass kid in your neighborhood who still falls out laughing at an old joke that no one else thinks is funny anymore. No matter how many times you tell him that joke is dead and gone, he repeats it over and over and over again in hopes of getting a chuckle out of someone, ANYONE.

On second thought, Antoine may also realize that his 15 minutes are long past due. After watching the video a second time (judge me not), I noticed that even HE doesn't seem to be amused by his shenanigans. His demeanor is not as animated as it was in his "debut" video, and the fact that his rapping/singing/talking is offbeat as hell shows that he is not even bothering to make an effort at this point. I wouldn't doubt that some media higher ups are pushing this gimmick within the last inch of its life, but their attempts are pointless. This shit ain't funny, it ain't cute, and it OBVIOUSLY is doing nothing toward the progression of the black race.

Ms. Dodson, wherever you are, please come get your son.

To Club or Not to Club?

2010-12-20T09:00:00.002-05:00

I have spoken about my views on religion before, and after a couple recent visits to a new church, there's another topic that has been on my mind for a while.

The pastor at this particular church has done a series of sermons over the past couple weeks dealing with completely "giving yourself to God," and whenever he talks about giving up certain things, he mentions the usual: drinking, smoking, sleeping around, etc. Then he asks this question in regards to people that claim to want a closer relationship with God, but continue to party every weekend: "How you in church when you was just at the club last night?"

I guess I should back up here, and give a little background on my clubbing experience. I have never been the "party girl." I've lived in St. Louis all my life and never once stepped foot in a nightclub, probably because I sincerely hate any and everything associated with St. Louis and have never wanted to waste my time. Add the fact that I have 0 friends here and.....well, you get the picture.

Then I moved to Orlando for a semester. I worked as an intern for Disney World, I didn't have a car, and I was under 21, so my clubbing options were limited. I soon discovered that the hot spot for Disney interns was a Disney-owned assortment of clubs known as Pleasure Island, or "PI," as my friends and I affectionately called it. The main spots that I frequented were the BET nightclub, as well as Motions, a more ethnically mixed nightclub. Thursdays were the most popular nights at PI, and in spite of working 12+ hour shifts on most days, my friends and I would muster the energy to board the "Party" bus almost every week and head out for a night on the town. There were always plenty of.....interesting characters on the bus, so I don't recall too many dull moments going to and from PI. I got my first dose of the lame and amusing pickup lines/stalker moves that guys try in a club atmosphere, and I actually enjoyed myself while being liquor-free. A couple years later, I found out that PI had been closed down, and it bummed me out a little to hear that my old stomping ground was no more.

I moved back to St. Louis from Orlando and went back to my quiet, party-less lifestyle, then I made another move a few years down the road; this time to Atlanta. I had heard all about the hype of partying in the "A," so I was ready to get out there and see what all the city had to offer. Immediately, my roommate and I became well-acquainted with Underground Atlanta, which was not the upscale, swanky atmosphere I had envisioned before I moved away from home. It was mostly occupied by ATL hoodrats and men who looked too old to be posted up in a club for Thirsty Thursdays. Oh well. I tried to find some different places to go to, and the foolishness began.

My weekends over the next year-and-a-half in Atlanta consisted of getting dressed up in my Saturday night's best, pre-gaming with my friends, then heading out to whatever random club that promised via their fliers "ladies are free before midnight." We would show up at the club, stand in line for over an hour, and eventually find out that the club was now charging $10, $15, or whatever they felt like charging depending on who you knew or how much ass you kissed. Sometimes we would suck it up and pay the cover charge, then go inside to listen to some Gucci Mane or Wacka Flocka bullshit, and buy some drinks to keep the buzz going. Sometimes my roommate would work her negotiating skills and get us in for free, then we would go in and listen to some Gucci Mane or Wacka Flocka bullshit, and get drinks to keep the buzz going. Other times we would decide that $20 wasn't worth it, and take our asses to Taco Bell and go home.

I said all that because, after hearing that message by the pastor, I brought it up with my mom and she inquired why it would be a big deal to give up club going since it was never very enjoyable for me in the first place. I didn't have a real answer to back up my reasoning, but my biggest concern with it was (and is) that it all seems so.......FINAL. I have always been the chill, go-with-the-flow type of friend, so to go from being down for whatever to saying, "No, I can't go to the club because that's not pleasing to God" seems so out-of-character for me. My mother's argument was that I don't have to tell people I'm not going to party with them because of my religion--which is true--but that still gives me this "holier-than-thou" feeling that I'm not quite comfortable with.

One thing I'm curious to know though, is when did partying become a "sinful" thing? I'm sure most Christians would argue that it's the breeding ground for a lot of "sin" to take place, like drinking, smoking, and sex, but what about those of us who really just go to hang out with friends? I can honestly say that I have never gone to a club looking to hook up with any dude. I know damn well that a nightclub is the last place to go looking for love. As silly as club-going could be sometimes, I often found myself going out because it gave me some interesting stories to tell. It's sad, but true. Like right now.......I don't go anywhere, I don't do anything; therefore, I don't have shit to blog about. Mom's advice is to surround myself with some young Christians, but most of the people I meet who are my age and have "given themselves to God" dress and act frumpy, and listen to gospel music exclusively. I like 6-inch heels, hip-hop music, and making fun of people who do stupid shit. Yeah, don't know how long those friendships would last.

Besides, doesn't the Bible say something like "Eat, drink, and be merry"? Last time I checked, that sounded a lot like partying......

Eh, I don't know. I'm just getting over a cold so I'm kind of loopy right now, and I apologize in advance if this post is all over the place. Is it reasonable to expect 20-somethings to completely give up on the nightlife in order to get closer to God? What are some NOT so "holier-than-thou" alternatives to partying and getting wasted?

An Uglycleanbroke Review of "For Colored Girls."

2010-12-13T09:00:00.001-05:00

I know, I know....I'm late as usual. I finally got the chance to see "For Colored Girls" last weekend, and I'm just now getting a chance to sit down and put together my thoughts about the film.

I read several reviews of the movie before seeing it, from my fellow bloggers as well as film critics, and the reviews were mixed. People's opinions on "For Colored Girls" were very black and white; they either loved it or hated it. There was no middle ground that I could see. I must say that I am on the side of those that enjoyed the film. I feel like all of the actors gave solid performances, including Janet Jackson, who I have never really cared for as an actress. I was also pleased that Tyler Perry didn't pop up anywhere, either as "Madea" or as his usual bland, unneeded supporting character.

I've heard some say that the movie was "depressing," or it shed a negative light on African-American women as being "victims," but I disagree. It's true that the tragedies in the film often outweighed the happy moments, but isn't that similar to everyday life? Is it really that far fetched to see women of color dealing with issues like abortion, sexual abuse, and cheating lovers? Is it not true that HIV is one of the leading causes of death among African American women?

What I don't understand is that Tyler Perry is always criticized for his portrayal of black people as over-the-top and ridiculous, and now that he's taken a more serious approach.....he's being criticized because the subject matter is TOO serious. It's the classic case of "Damned if you do, and damned if you don't."

The one thing that irked me about the movie was how the dialogue between the characters segued into each "colored girl's" monologue. It was a little awkward simply because it was so easy to distinguish where the modern language of the script ended, and where the book's original poetry began. The sudden change gave me the feeling of watching a musical, where the characters break into song in the middle of a conversation.

Overall, I would say "For Colored Girls" is definitely one of Tyler Perry's better films, and I appreciate that he made the effort to do something different from his usual coon-ish comedies.

Uglycleanbroke rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Oh Keri.

2010-12-06T09:00:00.001-05:00

I know I'm late commenting on this, but I figured better late than never. By now, I'm sure most of you have seen (or heard about) Keri Hilson's latest video "The Way You Love Me." If you haven't seen it yet, you can check it out here. The sexually charged lyrics and dancing in the video sparked a lot of controversy, and Keri Hilson subsequently did an interview explaining her "vision" behind the video.

I commented on a couple blogs about the video, so I'm kind of repeating myself here. One of my comments was in response to a video made by Youtuber Kingsley and his response to Keri's video:

The issue I have with Keri Hilson's video is not that it was overly sexual. If she wants to throw her p*ssy around, that's her choice. The problem is that the video concept sucked. The lyrics sucked. I said the same thing about Kiely's "Spectacular" video. Both looked low-budget and other than the over-the-top raunchiness, they are ultimately forgettable. Plus, Keri is a songwriter; I expect more creative lyrics from her. Although some of Kingsley's remarks sound a bit "stan"-ish, I agree with him about how drastic it is that Keri went from "Don't feel on my booty" to "Fuck me, fuck me!" She did an interview just last year about how she did not want to be overly sexed (which can be found here), and she has completely contradicted herself. Some people argue that her record label may have put her up to emerging with this new image. I honestly don't care WHAT her record label may or may not have told her to do. She's a grown woman. And in the event that her label DID tell her to go in this direction, they completely failed. Like, who is going to buy this? *Most* heterosexual women won't, because seeing another woman p*ssy popping does nothing for them. Men may beat off to the video, but they won't go out and buy her album. That leaves the "gays," who have already pledged their allegiance to "she who will not be named on this blog." (Y'all know who I'm talking about. Who do folks ALWAYS compare ANY female R&B singer to???)

Ultimately, Keri may have lost her original fans, who are not feeling this new wannabe sexpot image, and she's not gaining any fans because no one believes her.

You Know You're From St. Louis When......

2010-11-30T09:00:00.002-05:00

......It's not "hair," it's "hurr." It's not "there," it's "thurr."

......Niggas are still quoting Nelly lyrics from 2002.

......The most exciting thing to do is go to the St. Louis Zoo or the art museum.

......You tell people where you're from and they say, "Oh, I've been to St. Louis!" And that's it.

......Girls think they're shitting on hoes because they just copped the newest pair of Air Force Ones.

......If all else fails, at least we have the Arch.

......People from East St. Louis look down on you because they're from the TRUE heart of the city.

......Everyone refuses to admit that the Rams suck. I don't follow football, but even I know that.

......Club scene? Nightlife? What's that?

......Hoodrats and goons alike rep their city to the fullest, even though there's not much to "rep."

FYI: I was inspired to write this post while I was browsing through pictures on Facebook, and noticed that a girl I know has a fucking CARDINAL tattooed on her shoulder.

^^^^^Blank. Fucking. Stare. I would post the photo, but I'm not that cruel. Just use your imagination.

Thankfulness & Shit.

2010-11-24T09:00:00.000-05:00

The holidays are upon us, and in an attempt to balance out my usual complaining ways, I figured I would mention a couple things that I am grateful for this year:

I have a job. Yes it's shitty, and the policies change more often than I change my underwear, but it pays the bills. A couple years ago this time, I didn't even want to answer my phone because bill collectors were on my ass constantly, but I was so broke that I couldn't afford to make a minimum $25 payment on a credit card. Oddly enough, I feel like I'm not AS broke as I was in Atlanta, when I was making twice as much money as what I make now. Go figure.

I have finally been accepted at the college I was trying to get into! I spent most of my summer making phone calls and trying to get transcripts sent so I could attend school this fall. That didn't happen, because my old school still had a hold on my account for some reason. Just a couple weeks ago, I got everything straightened out and my mom bugged me enough to send a transcript request so I could get a head start for the spring semester. I did, and I got my acceptance letter last week. I still have plans to go to the Navy, but if that doesn't work out for whatever reason, it's good to know that I can still finish up school like I had planned.

I am free of all toxic "friendships." Over the past couple years, I have come across some of the best (and worst) friends I could imagine. I somehow managed to stay entangled in the web of the "bad friends" much longer than I should have. It got to the point where I felt like they were sucking me dry, and if they were in a bad mood, I would be in a bad mood. Although I can be a bitch, I'm sensitive as hell so I always end up taking on other people's burdens and emotions. I can finally say that I have severed contact with everyone who made me feel dead inside when I hung out with them, and I feel like I can breathe now.

I'm thankful for my family. I know that sounds cheesy as hell, and even though they get on my nerves, it's true. Living on my own showed me that they are the only people in the world that truly have my back, no matter what. We all still have growing to do, but I'm hopeful that we can get it together sooner or later.

I'm grateful that I cut my hair. LOL. I don't give a damn what anyone says about jumping on a "natural" bandwagon; this is the best decision I have ever made with my hair. I felt crazy as hell when I first cut it, but after styling it, I look pretty fucking hot, if I do say so. The compliments I get at work may help a bit too. :)

Okay, I'm going to stop here....this shit is too mushy and happy for me. What are you grateful for this year?

Why You Gotta Be Anonymous?

2010-11-23T09:00:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's some throwback Bobby V. for ya ass. I know I'm not the only one that remembers that song. Too bad he's nowhere to be found these days....

Anyway, this post is not about forgotten R&B stars; this is a shout out to all of the no-name, no-face people that love to talk their shit behind the comfort of a computer screen. I've been blogging a couple years now, and I'm sure anyone who has been in the blogging game can attest that they have been the victim of at least one anonymous blog attack.

Some may wonder why anonymous posters irk me so. It's pretty simple. I don't like cowards. If you can't attach a blog link or a name to your comment, yet you want to write a book-length critique of what I write on MY blog, you're a coward. If you clown someone on how they wear their hair or clothes, yet you make certain that no one will ever see what YOU look like, you're a coward.

Now I don't want anyone to get things twisted; it's not that I can't take criticism. I'm not asking readers to co-sign everything I say, or kiss my ass. What I want is for people to be respectful. After all, it's MY blog. I don't know about anyone else, but I think going to someone's blog and (anonymously) making rude and nasty comments is similar to going to that person's house and pissing in their front lawn while they're away at work. It's immature, unnecessary, and at the end of the day, it makes you look like a punk-ass.

I've heard other bloggers say something similar to what I'm about to say, and it goes something like this: If you come to this blog (or any blog) and see something that absolutely disgusts you.....there's a little red "X" in the upper right hand corner of your screen. Do you see it? It's right ---------> there. Just a little bit higher.

Click it.

Thank you, and good-bye.

So....I Should Believe He's Drug-Free?

2010-11-21T16:39:00.001-05:00

Why Can't She Keep Her Man?

2010-11-19T09:00:00.002-05:00

The hot topic of the week revolves around Eva Longoria and Tony Parker's announcement that they are divorcing after 3 years of marriage. As with most celebrity divorces, folks are wasting no time speculating on why they are divorcing, and they are also wasting no time putting in their two cents on the matter in blog comments.

Apparently, the reason behind the divorce is because Tony Parker was caught exchanging flirtatious text messages with another woman. While browsing through a blog (or maybe it was on Twitter...I forget), I read a comment by a woman that "we regular women don't stand a chance of having a faithful husband, if Eva Longoria can't even keep a man."

Let me say that I would like to give a sincere side-eye and middle finger to that woman. Why is it that whenever a celebrity cheats on his wife, people always holler about the woman not being able to "keep" him? What is this "keep" shit about? Is he a pet? A runaway slave?

I understand where they are coming from in a sense. It's instinctive to look at Eva Longoria and wonder what the hell Tony Parker was thinking by cheating on her. However, I believe that if a man wants to cheat, he will cheat, and it doesn't matter how good you look. This isn't the first celebrity scandal revolving a man's unfaithfulness to his gorgeous, successful wife, and I'm sure it won't be the last. How many Halle Berrys and Eva Longorias will it take for folks to realize that good genes are not a foolproof way to ward off infidelity?

Further, why is it always considered a woman's duty to "keep" her man? How do we know Eva didn't do everything she could to make Tony happy? I know nothing about their personal lives, but I remember back when they were first dating, she could be seen at all of his basketball games. I have a pretty good BS detector, but it didn't look like a publicity stunt to me; she seemed like she genuinely wanted to be there and support him. She could have been the picture-perfect wife, for all we know. On the other hand, she could have been a royal bitch behind closed doors, and maybe Tony felt the need to reach out to another woman for moral support. No one really knows.

What I do know is that it's not fair to suggest that any marital failure is due to a woman's inability to please her husband. I think it should be a two-way street, but I never hear anyone chastise men for not being able to "keep" a woman. It's also ludicrous to assume that looks alone will keep a relationship together. If that were the case, I wouldn't hear and see pretty girls crying, "He left me for HER?!?! That bitch ugly!"

The Grudge.

2010-11-16T09:00:00.002-05:00

No, I'm not talking about the movie (even though that movie scared the shit out of me....but that's another blog post). I'm talking about the treatment I have been known to give over the years to anyone that I feel has slighted me. At the age of 23, I have perfected the art of cutting off all possible contact with another human being without giving it any thought. I am familiar with the term "don't burn your bridges" but I don't burn bridges; I set up a fireworks display then watch the bridge explode.

I was recently confronted with my grudge-holding habit when I got a text from one of my old roommates. After I quietly packed all of my shit and left Atlanta without leaving so much as a good-bye note, I deleted every Facebook contact associated with my former roommates, and blocked their numbers from my phone. Or at least I thought I did, until I got that text the other day. Basically my old roomie expressed his happiness that I am indeed still alive, and asked if we could "move past" what happened. I told him it's been so long that I'm not AS upset about it, and he mentioned that he was worried I would still be pissed because he knows how I can hold a grudge.

Maybe I only think this way because it's how I am, but I personally feel that it's better to hold a grudge (just a little one) rather than always "forgiving and forgetting" and being stepped on by the same people over and over again. It probably sounds pessimistic, but people don't change. Not in my experience. They say that they do, and you reunite and things are okay for a while, and before you know it, you're dealing with the same shit.

Even with my ex-roommate.....I just keep wondering what I'm supposed to do from this point? I can't bring myself to think of him as a "friend" but I don't know what else to call him. He asked if I was still in Atlanta and I told him I was back home, but what if I wasn't? Would I be holding a grudge if I still didn't want to hang out with him, or my other ex-roommates? Am I supposed to text him every now and again? Un-block him from Facebook? I guess I shouldn't think about it that deeply since I live in another state, but for some reason I am.

I suppose holding a grudge and eliminating people from my life is my defense mechanism. I can't get hurt if I never speak to them again. Yeah, it's lonely ~~most of the time~~ sometimes, but I think it's safe to say that there's no way I can slight or betray myself.

Things Black Girls Can't Do.

2010-11-10T09:00:00.006-05:00

I'm giving myself the side-eye because I was semi-inspired to write this post after seeing a trending topic on Twitter. People all over the world are tweeting "#thingsthatblackgirlsdo." However, after getting a dose of reality television recently, I began to ponder the things that black girls CAN'T do.

I watched Russell Simmons' reality show on Oxygen last night. Don't judge me. It came on immediately after the "Bad Girls Club," the TV remote doesn't work, and I was too lazy to get up and change the channel. Anyway, for anyone who cares, I will provide a synopsis of what the show is all about. Basically it gives a behind-the-scenes look at what Russell goes through every day as a business mogul. It also follows his assistants, and his assistants' assistants, who all look like they belong in a Victoria's Secret catalog rather than a business office.

In the episode I watched, Russell invites rapper T.I. to his office to shoot the breeze and discuss some ideas Russell has for a jewelry line. During the meeting, a couple interns are instructed to bring the guys some lunch. Both of the interns are women who appear to be in their early 20s. One is African-American, one is white. The white girl is seen on camera earlier, gushing about how excited she is to meet T.I. and how sexy she thinks he is. She has also chosen to wear a black mini-dress to work that day, which her fellow intern tells her is a bit "risque." While serving lunch to Russell and his colleagues, the intern sits cross-legged on Russell's desk, then shifts her legs in a not-so-subtle manner that gives T.I., and everyone else in the room, a nice clear shot of her pink meat. Thankfully Oxygen has the decency to pixelate her no-no area, but it's pretty obvious that someone "forgot" her thong before she walked out the door in the morning. T.I. seems amused, but Russell comments that what she is wearing is inappropriate, and orders her out of the office.

He brings up the issue later with his assistants, giving a comical reenactment of the intern's come-on to T.I. The assistants gasp in horror and promise Russell they will have a sit-down with the intern. They call her into the office and advise her that what she wore to work is inappropriate, and warn her to be more careful about what she wears to the office in the future. A couple days later, the same intern is invited to the Hamptons to assist with a weekend dinner, and she greets Russell Simmons with a kiss on the cheek. Again, his assistants are horrified and have another chat with the intern about remaining professional, even in a casual setting. The intern doesn't seem to be fazed at all, and points out that she must be doing okay if this is "all" they're criticizing her about.

And that's it.

The whole time I was watching this, I couldn't help but wonder how it all would have gone down if the roles were reversed, and it was the black girl running around the office in a freakum dress with no panties on, and greeting Russell Simmons like he was her sugar daddy. Perhaps she too, would have only gotten a slap on the wrist, since this IS reality TV (and we all know reality TV is about as real as Nene Leakes' nose). So then I had to think about it in terms of everyday life. Would a black girl be allowed as many chances to make as many royal fuck-ups as the white girl did, if she had managed to snag a prestigious internship? I highly doubt it. Even on Russell's show, I could tell the black girl was afraid to sneeze the wrong way, lest her ass be shown to the front door by security. The only complaint her bosses had about her was that she didn't bring her "A game" when helping out with an event. Meanwhile, the white girl was totally oblivious, and saw nothing wrong with how she was conducting herself.

I guess what this showed me is that even in a time of "equal opportunity," black people still have to be twice as cautious as their white counterparts on the job, and when looking for a job. It makes me think about the stories my family members have told me, of how they showed up to a job fair/interview decked out in business suits, and got turned down, while a white job-seeker came in wearing jeans and a T-shirt and was hired on the spot. Like really.....where they do that at? In my own job and internship-hunting experiences, I went to interviews in my business professional attire with my resume in hand, and couldn't get hired at Target. Then I turn the TV on, to see this white chick who doesn't have the sense to know NOT to flash her pussy at T.I. in a business meeting, and she's working for one of the biggest entertainment moguls in the industry?

I can't. This was supposed to be a lighthearted post, but I've gotten pissed off now. That's why I have to stop watching these reality shows.

Can't Wait For Her Album.

2010-11-09T09:10:00.003-05:00

Normally I'm the queen of music downloads, but I am anxiously awaiting November 30th to PURCHASE Jazmine Sullivan's album. I think she has an amazing voice, and I still listen to her first album like it just came out yesterday.

Mr. Grandberry.....................

2010-11-09T09:00:00.008-05:00

Sir.

At times like this I have to question the very existence of divine intervention because somewhere, somehow, a higher power should have stopped this from happening.

I'm already trying to find it in my heart to forgive you for being associated with my now-tainted childhood memories of B2K (yes, I was a stan), but then you had to go and do this. There are so many questions, but not enough answers. Who is your stylist? Do you have a stylist? Is he/she friends with Raz-B? Is this their way of getting revenge on you? Is this your not-so-discreet way of coming out of the closet? Do you think this will help disprove the rumors questioning your *ahem* manhood?

I feel like this is the homo-thug, Mr. T-inspired rendition of "The Wizard of Oz." Gold chains, and bow ties, and rings, oh my! The top half of your ensemble is so offensive that I won't even speak on the skinny jeans and penny loafers. Omarion, you try so hard to be "different" and "edgy," not realizing that get-ups like this only make you come across as foolish and desperate for attention. You're not Kanye, or Diddy, or any other male celebrity that can get away with wearing tons of jewelry and fur and still keep a remnant of masculinity.

Please don't let this happen again, O. I'm sure lovers of fashion ~~and your testicles~~ will be eternally grateful if you make this a one time offense. Wait. I said I wasn't going to speak on the skinny jeans, didn't I? Oh well.

Vote or Die?

2010-11-04T09:00:00.002-04:00

I know I'm probably about to catch hell from all the political fanatics out there, but hear me out.

I didn't vote yesterday.

I'm not making excuses for myself, but I had to work all day, and I wasn't getting up at 6am to vote for people and laws that I have not a clue about. I like to think that I am fairly socially and politically conscious, but I have never claimed to be a political buff. Whenever friends and colleagues get into heated debates about health care and taxes, I gladly shut the fuck up because I don't want to say anything stupid.

I just so happened to listened to the radio yesterday, and of course, every DJ felt the need to put in their two cents that everyone--especially black people--need to let their voices be heard. Our ancestors fought for this privilege, and we need to honor them by getting out to the ballots. Okay. I get that. Here's my issue though: why is it that these same DJs and media personalities never talk about the importance of politics and voting until about.....3 days before an election?

Like I said earlier, I'm not incredibly savvy when it comes to politics, so Proposition A and B really don't mean much to me. Call me ignorant if you want, but they don't. And I have a feeling they don't mean much to most people my age either. I have 52,001 things on my mind, and the last thing I think about after a stressful day at work is getting online to research all the politicians in my state so I can know what they stand for. Especially since the commercials they show a few weeks before an election seem to do nothing but throw shade at everything their opponents are NOT doing.

I feel that if the media wants to stress the importance of voting, they should do it all year, not just when an election is coming up. They should actually educate people on WHY they should vote, instead of just saying, "VOTE OR DIE!" Get the fuck outta here. We're all going to die, whether we vote or not. Don't tell me that voting for or against a certain bill is going to determine whether or not there is a 2.5% increase on a property tax that I have never heard of. What the hell does that mean? All of that political lingo is headache-inducing. Speak to me in English, please.

I don't know. It seems like voting nowadays is more of a "trendy" thing to do rather than doing something to get shit done. I voted for Obama back in '08. That was a no-brainer, considering that I could just look at McCain on TV and tell that he wouldn't care much about the well-being of my black ass. Of course, Obama won. There was all this talk of "change," but what has changed? Not a damn thing, as far as I can tell. I still got fired from my job not too long after he was elected, so nothing has changed as far as the dumb-ass employment laws in America. The recession still seems to be going strong. Apparently a health care bill was passed a while ago, but I still don't have health insurance. Why is the government being so secretive about it? Or maybe I'm just not looking in the right places? Why did everyone think having a Black man in office was going to make things all better? Didn't Black people work to change plenty of laws before Obama was even thought of?

Maybe I'm being my normal hardheaded self in thinking that my opinion doesn't matter. There's plenty going on in the world that I would like to change, and I don't see how electing some random person to be Senator is going to help my concerns. Perhaps someone can enlighten me.

No Photos Please.

2010-11-01T09:00:00.004-04:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I hate taking pictures. Unless it's a photo that I have snapped myself, I don't want it. I give my friends the side eye of death any time they come up to me with their digital cameras, trying to act like the damn paparazzi.

Why am I so opposed to having photos taken? Because it's 2010 and people have no damn sense. Taking pictures isn't like it was a couple decades ago. Any embarrassing or unflattering pictures could be trapped for eternity in the undeveloped film of a Walgreens disposable camera, or buried in a box of photos that your mother is saving to blackmail you with, when you bring your new boo home to visit the family. That's not the case nowadays. Any picture, whether good, bad, ugly, or just downright fucked up, will be plastered on MySpace, Twitter, Facebook, your friend's blog, or any other social networking outlet possible.

My latest run-in with this problem came from my recent trip to Atlanta. I made it clear several times that I didn't want any photos taken unless it was a group picture so I could blend in with everyone else. But of course, liquor came into the picture (no pun intended), and bitches caught me slipping. Remember the Italian boy I mentioned a couple posts ago? I didn't mention that he was very touchy-feely, and that, paired with the fact that my dress was shorter than I anticipated, made the perfect combination for a panty-revealing photo op. My friend just uploaded the pictures from her birthday and when I got the notifications that I had been tagged, I already knew I would have to log onto my profile and do some damage control.

My jaw dropped when I saw the photo of my lacy black Victoria's Secret hiphuggers in full view for all of Facebook to see. "What the hell was B thinking?" was my first thought. For God's sake, my mom is on Facebook now! I immediately untagged myself.....but the picture is still online, and it won't take a genius to figure out who that girl is with the guy's hands pulling her dress up. I want to tell her to take that photo down, but I know she will think I'm being a "prude" and I also had plans to ignore her for a while. Ugh. This is why I stay incognito.

Vent.

2010-10-29T17:59:00.005-04:00

Not having money is frustrating. As hell. I've heard the saying that money can't buy you happiness, but I sure ain't happy being broke. If I ever get the opportunity to have an overabundance of money and I'm STILL not happy, then maybe I can attest to that saying, but until then, the grass certainly does look greener on the other side in this instance. I know rich people have their own issues, but at least they don't have to choose between buying lunch or filling up their gas tank.

I feel like I'm not getting ahead, and I don't know when--or if--I will ever get ahead. Being in debt is like being inside of a never-ending hole. I keep trying to claw my way out, but it's like an invisible force is pinning me down. Every time I look around, there's a new bill to add to the pile. I am constantly kicking myself for dropping out of school for what was intended to be a very short period of time. Now the grace period is over, and Uncle Sam wants his cash. I'm convinced that student loans were created by Satan himself, to ensure that desperate college students around the world will never be able to see a paycheck without paying a portion of it to a loan provider (or several).

I'm losing weight because I'm stressed out; I'm stressed out because I'm losing weight. I regret every frivolous penny that was spent during the days that I had no bills to worry about. I'm still angry that I got fired from my first "good" job the same week my financial situation was beginning to look up, and I wonder if I will ever get back to that point. Will I ever be able to afford to live on my own? Purchase a new car? Repair the car I have, without going even deeper into this hole? Spend $20 at Walgreens without feeling pangs of guilt afterward?

I don't know. I don't know.

If You Want Me, You Can Find Me in the "A"

2010-10-26T08:00:00.005-04:00

This past weekend confirmed that I no longer have any desire to live in Atlanta. I know that I don't want to live in St. Louis, but I definitely don't want to live in Atlanta either. Going back to visit was kind of like going back to an old friend or boyfriend. You remember all the good things when you're gone, but as soon as you get back together, all the annoying shit that they used to do comes right back in your face.

So my friend B wanted me to come down and kick it for her 21st birthday. We partied together all the time before she was legal, and we always got kicked out of clubs because of it, so I knew I couldn't miss the opportunity to come to the "A" and NOT get thrown out of a bar within less than an hour. I buy my plane ticket in September, work ridiculous amounts of overtime so I'll have enough money to do whatever I want, and make plans to go shopping and get my nails done, as if I'm preparing for MY birthday. As the weeks go by, B tells me that her sisters are coming to Atlanta, as well as her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend. Our other friend, and my former roommate, K, will be in attendance as well since she and B are now roommates.

About a week before it's time for me to fly down there, I get a text from K. She mentions that B wants us to play a prank on her for her birthday and says we have to come up with something good. I think of an idea, but it will only work if K picks me up from the airport by herself. I ask if she will be able to come get me, and she says yes.

Fast forward to a couple days before it's time for me to go out of town. B calls me to tell me how excited she is that I'm coming, and she also mentions that she is upset because she's not going to have as much money as she wanted because she didn't get her refund check from school. I assure her that we'll have fun regardless of low funding, since my spending money will be short as well, due to some unforeseen car troubles. I'm scheduled to get to Atlanta Thursday morning, and B tells me she probably won't see me until Thursday night because she has school in the morning and work later in the afternoon. She mentions that K has class Thursday morning too, and at this point I ask, "Well, who the hell is picking me up from the airport?" B says that K will probably skip class to pick me up, but K has been flaky as hell for the two years that I've known her, so I send her a text Wednesday to tell her my plane touches down in Atlanta around 9:45am and ask (again) if she will be able to get me. She replies that she has class until 12pm.

Here we go.

I text back and mention that I asked her last week if she could pick me up and she said yes. She says that we should have confirmed the time, then adds that she's free after 1pm. Really now? Yes, because sitting at the airport for 3 hours is EXACTLY how I want to spend my morning. She sends one more text saying that I can't be mad at her, but "knowing me," I probably am. My first instinct is to text back that I can be whatever the fuck I want, but K is a sensitive soul, and she's pregnant, so I know that even a small dose of my wrath will likely be too much for her to handle. Besides, I don't want shit to get ugly before I even get there, so I tell her that I'm not mad, and that I need another option besides waiting at the airport until 1. I ask for her address so I can take a cab or MARTA, and that's that. I'm annoyed, because now I have to decide whether I should shell out $30 for a cab or deal with demented homeless men on the train.

I catch my flight the next morning, arrive in Atlanta, and I decide to go with the cab and head outside the airport to the curbside pickup. When I give the cab driver the address, he looks confused as hell and asks me if I know where that is. Again, here we go. One thing I never understood when I lived in Atlanta is why cab drivers always expected ME to help them navigate. I'm not a fucking GPS, and besides, isn't that why I'm paying you? I tell him the apartment is near the Georgia Dome. He doesn't speak English very well, but I'm pretty sure he asks me if it would be okay for him to drop me off in that general area. I give him the deadliest side eye ever, and he consults with another cab driver to find out where the address is. This whole ordeal takes about 10 minutes, then he gets back in the car and proceeds to pull out a GPS. What the hell? Why didn't you just do that in the first place? We finally get to my friends' apartment, and the driver has the nerve to look salty when I give him $3 for a tip. Little does he know, I had contemplated not giving him shit, due to his poor navigation skills AND the fact that it was hot as hell in the car, but I just don't have it in my heart to do that.

K told me the night before that she would leave their key under the mat, so I grab it and let myself in. I look around the apartment, then open one of the bedroom doors and lo and behold......there's K, laying in her bed. Yes, you read that right. She gave me all that drama, I paid $30 for a cab, and this bitch is at home. She claims that she got sick during one of her classes and had to leave early. Then she mentions that B wants snacks for a party that she's throwing on Sunday, so we head to Wal-Mart to pick up a few things. When we get there, K tells me she has $200 on her EBT card, then proceeds to walk around the store and put every item imaginable in her damn shopping cart. Since living on my own, I have become a budgeting queen, and even without a physical calculator, I can tell all the shit in this cart is going to be way more than $200. K disagrees, but when we get to the checkout lane, she changes her tune and starts giving items to the cashier to put back. This is another one of my pet peeves, FYI. I can't STAND it when people get more shit than they can afford, then start putting it back. I stand by, gritting my teeth while she completes her transaction, then we head back to the apartment.

B comes home later, and her sister and cousins come over to visit her before we get ready to go to a strip club. Her family decides they don't feel like going anywhere tonight, so B, K, and I end up going. We get there after midnight and show our IDs to the bouncer. She informs B that even though her birthday is today, she won't be allowed to get in until 24 hours AFTER her birthday. Say what? That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard, but it sounds like one of the typical ass-backward Atlanta club policies, so B and I start to leave. However, K is the negotiator of the group, and asks another bouncer to get a manager. The manager comes outside and asks what the problem is. The female bouncer tells him she was told by some higher-ups that she couldn't let people in until the day after their birthday; he gives the okay for us to go in anyway. So we go in to show our IDs again, and this time the bouncer tells us that we "got her in trouble," and now she's going to have to explain herself to her boss. Not our problem bitch. We pay admission, then go to the bar for drinks. The bartender is standing against the wall, and when I ask for a Long Island Iced Tea, she gives me a "look" as if I'm bothering her and hollers, "What?" I repeat myself, then she makes my drink, and if it weren't for the loud music, I'm pretty sure I would be able to hear her sighing heavily. Because of her nasty attitude, I decide not to tip. I know those of you who are bartenders and waitresses are probably cringing, but I feel like this: if you have to live off tips, then you need to act like it. It makes no sense to provide bad customer service then expect to be rewarded for it. I'm not asking anyone to kiss my ass, but if I'm not coming to you in a disrespectful or rude manner, I would appreciate it if you do the same for me.

I sit down, sip on my drink, listen to the DJ talk shit about any guys that aren't throwing ones at the strippers, and watch the dancers who look like they would rather light themselves on fire than be on stage. B comments that I don't seem to be enjoying myself.....which I'm not. Watching nude women dance is not my thing. If I want to see a woman dance naked, I can just look in the mirror, and I don't have to pay $20 for it. But this is what B wanted to do, so I'm not going to make a fuss. She asks if I need another drink, so we head to the bar again. I don't have anymore cash on me so B buys the drinks, and this time the bartender says, and I quote, "The next time y'all come over here for a drink, I'ma need y'all to leave a tip." B apologizes and hands her a couple dollars, then we head back to our seats. Once I sit down, I think, "Wait a minute! Did this bitch just TELL us to give her a tip? After she was rude as hell? Where they do that at?" I must be more tipsy than I thought, because in my sober state of mind I would have been more than happy to tell the bartender what she needed to do if she wanted a tip from me. I guess it wasn't meant to be. Tonight is "Amateur Night" at the strip club, so we watch wannabe strippers shake what their mamas gave them, then we leave.

The next day, B has class until 12. Weeks before I came to Atlanta, we both mentioned that we wanted to get tattoos this weekend, so B says that her sister is going to do her hair, then we'll go to the tattoo shop around 2. 2:00 goes by, then 3, then 4, then 5, then 6. B's sister doesn't show up until around 6:30 to do her hair, and even though I've never had a sew-in, I know that shit takes AT LEAST an hour to finish. B wants to get tattoos, go to a haunted house, and go to a club later, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen. Her hair is done around 8:30, and we go to the haunted house first. There is what appears to be a never-ending line around the building, and we find out the wait is more than an hour. Nobody is trying to wait that long, so we head to the tattoo shop. Although I was under the impression that only B and I would be getting tattoos, I soon realize that her sister, two cousins, and their friend all want tattoos as well. And not just simple tattoos. One of B's cousins announces that she wants three pitbulls tattooed on her thigh, with each of her kids' names on them. That's just to give you an idea of the hoodratted-ness that occurred. It's almost 11pm and there are only three artists in the shop; I know we're going to be here until around 1 in the morning. The excitement I had about getting a tattoo has passed, and I tell B I'm not going to get mine tonight. Instead, I sit and drink and talk shit with B's best friend and her boyfriend, who arrived earlier this afternoon.

After everyone is tatted, we go back to the apartment to get ready for the club. By this time, B announces that she's too drunk to go anywhere so we stay in. We get up the next day and try to figure out if we should still get a rental car. That whole story is too complicated to write about, but to make a long story short, we don't get one. B decides she will just have K drive us around where we need to go and give her gas money. We go shopping at Atlantic Station, then have dinner at the Geisha House. The whole time, I am getting annoyed by B and her best friend, who I will call "BM" since she and B's pet name for each other is "Baby Mama." Ever since BM and her boyfriend came into town, B has been almost exclusively talking to them, as if she doesn't really give a damn that I visited for her birthday. They even left me in H&M to walk to the Geisha House, and B didn't bother to text or call me to let me know where they were. That, on top of the fact that they play with each other's hair and address each other with "Baby Mama" every five seconds, is working my nerves. I'm also picking up on some "diva" vibes from B that I never noticed before. She's upset that her family is refusing to go out with her tonight, because B wants to go to Club Opera, a racially diverse downtown club, and her sister and cousins "don't want to party with white people." Because of that, when B is not caressing her baby mama, she's on the phone telling everyone she knows how upset she is, and asking for confirmation about whether her family is wrong or not. I understand that it's shitty for her family to come to town specifically for her birthday, then back out of partying with her, but I could have told her that would happen and I just met them. They are all in their 30s, and they don't seem interested in the same things as B. Besides, even if they're not participating, I, along with her BFF and her BFF's boyfriend, flew into town and we've done everything she's wanted to do without complaining. As far as I'm concerned, fuck her sister and her cousins. But that's just me.

After dinner, we get ready for Club Opera. We head inside and at first I'm not feeling it, then I get a couple drinks and I'm good. Eventually some guy walks up and starts talking to me. I ask where he's from, and he says Italy. This is funny as hell to me, because my mother will swear on a stack of Bibles that I am going to marry either a Hispanic or Italian man. We start dancing and he's whispering in my ear about how much he loves Black women. Then I notice that everyone I came to the club with decided to move elsewhere. I kiss and hug my Italian boy goodbye and walk around the club to find my friends. I circle the club once but still don't see them; I tell myself to sober up and walk around once more. Still no luck, so I text and call K. I don't get a response, but I just so happen to wander toward the back of the club, where B is dancing around a stripper pole while BM is frantically snapping pictures as if this is a professional photo shoot. K, BM's boyfriend, and B's other friend (we call her the "Shy One") are standing nearby. By now, the alcohol has worn off and my feet are killing me, so I'm ready to call it a night. K goes out to her car, and the Shy One and I go outside moments later. We sit and wait for B and her other friends to come out, while the Shy One vomits outside of the car. I finally hear the DJ announcing that he's playing the last song, and B and her friends walk to the car looking and acting a drunken hot mess. We're subjected to their babbling all the way home, and once we get into the apartment, I get cleaned up, change clothes, and go to bed.

My flight leaves early the next afternoon, so I wake up and start packing. Once I'm done, I ask K if she will drive me to the airport. The Shy One is ready to go home, and asks us if K will be able to give her a ride too. Suddenly K shouts from her room, "I didn't sign up to be a taxi service!" Oh boy. Then she and B get into a brief argument about why K agreed to drive everyone around if she was going to be tight about it. In spite of K's outburst, she drives the Shy One back to her house, then takes me to the airport. On the way, K says she's not upset with me; she's just annoyed because she feels used and unappreciated by B. She mentions that B complained about the groceries she bought, and never thanked her for anything she did this weekend. I tell her I sensed a diva attitude as well, so I can understand where she's coming from. She drops me off and I rush to check in, since this is the second time I have been running late for my flight.

Whew. I told y'all it would be a long one. Looking back, there wasn't as much fuckery as I claimed, but I'm dramatic, and I don't get out much. Don't judge me. The trip was okay, but like I said, I don't think I could see myself moving back to Atlanta, at least not any time soon. Even though I've only been gone for a few months, I'm getting too old for the pettiness, and I have the feeling I would always be right smack in the middle of B and K's drama if I were still there.

Now I have to figure out where to take my next trip.

FYI.

2010-10-21T09:10:00.000-04:00

I WILL be posting about my trip to Atlanta this past weekend. I got back to work immediately upon returning home so I haven't had time to get all my thoughts together about everything that occurred. Trust, there was plenty of fuckery worth blogging about, and I have a feeling it's going to be a long-ass post. Or maybe I'll break it up into several posts. I don't know.

Anyway, I hope everyone in the Blogger world is doing lovely! Deuces.

Big Chop.

2010-10-21T09:00:00.001-04:00

I made the decision several weeks ago to go natural. Not because I'm jumping on any bandwagon, but because relaxers are fucking expensive and time-consuming, and also because I have secretly always wanted to have a big beautiful ass Afro. I don't know why, but I just want it. Most of my hair is still relaxed, but now I have the texture of my new growth as well so I'm in between textures. (In other words, I'm in the "transitional" stage. That's some of the fancy lingo I've picked up from browsing natural hair websites.) It's kind of annoying having to deal with both textures, so the next logical step would be to do the "Big Chop," or "BC."

I cut my hair about a year ago and have been wearing a style similar to Rihanna's pixie cut back in 2009, so you'd think I would be over the whole "looking like a boy" fear, but for some reason chopping my hair down to a couple inches freaks me out. I think I have a masculine face, and I'm skinny as hell so.....yeah. As if I don't already have a hard enough time getting noticed by guys, I can only imagine how it will be once I'm nearly bald.

Is that what it's really about though? Probably not, but I just have to be honest about my concerns. I never thought hair texture/length was that big of a deal, but it becomes pretty obvious that it is when women will quickly throw on a silky wig or put in weave to make themselves look more attractive when going out. I suppose I'm still affected by it since I can already hear the comments and see the looks I will get once I do the BC. I already had plenty of people try to convince me NOT to cut my hair last year, although none of them could give me a good reason why. *rolls eyes*

Fuck it. I'ma do it. It's just hair. If I hate it, I can always just put a paper bag over my head, right?

In the meantime, here are some photos of my "natural" inspirations:

I Hate It When.................

2010-10-11T12:00:00.000-04:00

..........I "like" someone's status on Facebook and get a notification that so-and-so commented on that status afterward. I go look at the status and it turns out some asshole has added an insignificant-ass comment such as "LMAO!" or "Co-sign!" or "Amen!" Why? If you don't have anything funny or thought-provoking to add, why are you commenting? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't the "like" option added to indicate that you agree, or "co-sign" with what someone else said? Why are you wasting time typing, and wasting 12 seconds of my life to read your boring, unnecessary, one-word comment?

..........I'm craving a particular food item/snack that I have stashed at home, and I fantasize about said food item/snack all day while I'm at work. Then I go home, search through the refrigerator or pantry.......and my shit is gone.

..........I work my ass off to save money for a specific reason, i.e. I want to go on a trip or buy a new pair of shoes. As soon as I have some cash "saved," my car decides to go wacky, and I have to come out of pocket with a couple hundred bucks, because we all know car repairs ain't cheap. So much for saving.

..........People nearly collide with me coming out of the door at work and go on about their business without so much as saying "Excuse me" or even blinking an eye. It's like.....damn, no manners though?

..........I go to a store to try on a pair of shoes or a dress, and the sales rep either (a) knocks on the dressing room door every 5 seconds asking if I'm doing okay, or (b) watches me while trying on the shoes and makes fake-ass comments like, "Oh my gosh, those look sooooooooooo cute on you!" as if I don't know she's just saying that so I can buy them. I understand showing good customer service, but that over-the-top shit is disturbing.

..........I watch Lifetime and every movie has the EXACT SAME story line: Girl meets boy, girl falls in love, girl finds out boy is really a psychopathic con artist who escaped from a psychiatric ward/prison, girl confronts boy about his secret past rather than going to the police like a normal person, girl pretends she is going to shoot boy but allows him to get within two inches of her and boy takes gun, girl suddenly gets a burst of superhuman strength and knocks boy over a balcony, police cars race to the scene 30 seconds later, yet boy has somehow managed to run away after falling 20 feet to the ground. Fast forward to the last scene and boy is now living on some tropical island in perfect health, preparing to lure another unsuspecting girl into a trap that is only possible in made-for-TV films.

While we're talking about movies, I also hate it when sequels come out, and the original film was no good to begin with. Take for example, "Paranormal Activity." In my opinion, that movie sucked. The whole movie was full of non-scary bullshit, like curtains moving, lamps flickering, and doors slamming shut on their own. It didn't get scary--or at least uncomfortable--until the last 5 minutes, and I was ultimately pissed that I spent $10 for 5 minutes of scariness. Why then, is there a "Paranormal Activity 2"? I'm assuming from the last movie that the only two characters died (apologies to anyone who didn't see the first "PA"), so what is the second one about? Is it supposed to be scarier because there is a dog and a baby involved now?

Obstacles.

2010-10-06T09:00:00.008-04:00

I was speaking to my mother the other day about a class she recently began teaching at a local university. Her students were introducing themselves to the rest of the class, and several of them made reference to the fact that they are continuing their education, "in spite of" having one or two kids. Their mindset, I'm assuming, is that they are setting themselves apart from young single mothers who quit school after having children.

This isn't the first time I have heard about and/or witnessed women my age testify about "fighting against the odds," and it is another one of my pet peeves. I try not to judge anyone who got "caught up" back in high school and had a baby or two ~~or three, or four~~, but I get pissed off when these same women turn around and act as if they are supposed to receive a gold star for a decision THEY made. They moan and groan about how hard it is to juggle having kids, working full-time, AND going to school, as if someone put a gun to their heads and made them pop those babies out.

The point I made when talking to my mother is that I don't understand people who talk about having kids, as if the kids are an obstacle they have had to overcome. When I think of an obstacle, I think of something that you had no control over, something that came into your life unexpectedly. Overcoming an obstacle would be someone that was hit by a drunk driver and confined to a wheelchair for the rest of their lives, yet they went on to win a gold medal in the Special Olympics. Unless you were raped and got pregnant, you consciously made the decision to conceive that child, and you made the decision to carry that child for nine months and bring it into the world. In other words, it's no one's fault other than your own that you have to get up at 6am every day to get Lil' Ray Ray ready for daycare.

Maybe I sound bitter.....and that's because I am. Fuck it. I just don't see why the baby mamas of the world feel they should get more kudos than those that have not had children yet. It's like they've taken over, to the point where people look at me strange because I DON'T have any kids. I've had friends and family tell me I should be proud that I don't fit into the crowd of young women with kids. I don't know why though. Once upon a time, having kids in high school was something frowned upon; nowadays it seems to be glorified. It's almost as if society wants young girls to have kids, so Hollywood producers can make biopics about how these girls "beat the odds." Take Fantasia, for example. Do you think America would have been as fascinated with her, had she not been a young single mother/high school dropout? Would the movie "Precious" have been as popular if the lead character had not been an illiterate young woman with two small children? When was the last time you saw a documentary about a woman going to school and trying to make ends meet, without the extra load of having a child?

Bottom line: To the young mothers out there, you do NOT deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for changing diapers during the day, and studying College Algebra at night. If this offended anyone, you're welcome.

On Second Thought.......

2010-10-04T09:00:00.007-04:00

I know I wrote this post a while back about my take on the Bad Girls Club reality show, where I professed my minor obsession with the ability to take a walk on the wild side through the cameras that follow the girls around Miami. After watching the past few episodes of BGC, I won't completely recant my previous statement; this is more of an addition to my thoughts since that post.

Now that BGC is nearing the end of the season, I am often left wondering if I just finished viewing a reality show episode, or an edition of "Girls Gone Wild." I don't think there has been one episode where the girls have NOT made out with each other and/or stripped down and jumped in the pool or shower for some group action. Their "fights" mostly consist of arguing with themselves in an empty room (but loud enough for their other roommates to hear), and throwing one another's clothes on the front lawn. Scary right?

*Cue not-so-Bad Girl talking shit to her equally not-so-Bad minion: "That bitch wants to mess with me?! I'll show her! Come on girl, we're going to throw ALL her panties out on the driveway! DONE!"*

*Not-so-Bad minion's response: "Hell yeah, that'll show her! You're soooo bad!" (while puffing on a cigarette)*

Whereas previous seasons of BGC seemed to have a mixture of catfights, drunken shenanigans, and sex, this particular season is just.......sex. Not just any sex; LESBIAN sex. Because somehow, being a lesbian = bad. Who decided that? I have no idea, but that's the message I get from watching. One girl even stated that she is a lesbian because "being straight is boring." So I suppose everyone in the world only has to start dating the same sex if they want a little spice in their lives. To say I'm offended is an understatement. I'm sure the producers think they're being "edgy." I think they're only showing just how archaic and small-minded they really are. Like many people's views on homosexuality, it is making the assumption that same-sex relations are a deviation that only "bad" people can participate in. Lesbians can't just be normal people who are capable of maintaining monogamous relationships; they only have the ability to make out with three other girls in a hot tub after too many shots of Patron.

I know that I shouldn't be looking for reality television to show an accurate depiction of lesbians, but I think it's pretty sad that this is the selling point for the season. I don't know how great of a strategy it was for them to go this route; I can't speak for anyone else, but I know that I can only take so much of seeing overly-airbrushed girls swapping spit in a limo. That ain't my idea of bad.

Rep Yo City.

2010-09-30T09:00:00.009-04:00

*Disclaimer: I know I'm random, but I'm not TOTALLY random. Last week I heard a radio announcement that Nelly's next album will be titled Nelly 5.0. That irked me for some reason, which inspired this post.

For every major city in the US, there seems to be a rapper designated as the "official" spokesperson of that particular city. Atlanta has TI, Brooklyn has Jay-Z, Chicago has Kanye West, Orlando has......Flo Rida? Scratch that last example, but you get what I mean. I wish there was an option to vote for what rapper can rep their city, because whenever I reveal to an out-of-towner that my hometown is St. Louis, I can't help but roll my eyes when they exclaim, "Aww, you from Nellyville, huh?!"

Why does the mention of Nelly's name make me cringe, you ask? Let me count the ways.

1. The Band-Aid

I'm not sure if anyone else remembers, but Nelly wore a white Band-Aid on his cheek for a long period of time. I suppose he first started wearing it due to a basketball injury, but eventually Nelly revealed that it also had a "symbolic" meaning and was intended as a shout-out to St. Lunatics member City Spud, who was in jail for a robbery conviction. All I wanted to know back then--and still want to know--is.....why a Band-Aid, Nelly? You couldn't just say, "Free City!" like all of the other rappers after every performance? Or maybe wear a "Free City" t-shirt? Was it not good enough that a whole St. Lunatics album was dedicated to City Spud? Thankfully, the unintended fashion accessory never caught on in St. Louis (or any other city, to the best of my knowledge), and a higher power must have told Nelly the Band-Aid wasn't a good look, because he eventually ceased from sporting the adhesive out in public.

2. Tip Drill

There are a few events I believe have set black people back several hundred years: the Flavor of Love reality series, the invention of Twitter, and Nelly's "Tip Drill" video. Nelly ignited some major controversy back in 2004 when he released an uncut video that included colorful lyrics such as "it must be yo' ass, 'cuz it ain't yo' face" and lots of ass shaking. One of the most "memorable" scenes is when Nelly slides a credit card between one woman's ass cheeks. I'm embarrassed just by writing that. The controversy came to a head (no pun intended), when several Spelman students joined together with plans to confront Nelly at a charity event scheduled to take place at the Spelman campus. Nelly canceled his scheduled appearance at the last minute. Surprise. Which brings me to my next point.

3. Kat Stacks

Nelly was just one of many rappers caught in the tangled, STD-infested web of scandals weaved by the infamous Kat Stacks. He is one of the first men she outed when she first came on the scene months ago, as she blogged detailed accounts of arguments she and Nelly had outside of his studio when she was drunk. And of course, Nelly chose to take things to the next level when he called in during a Shade 45 radio interview with Kat Stacks, and proceeded to "hide" his identity by anonymously interrogating her about the accuracy of her stories. Being the mentally deficient human being that she is, Kat Stacks had no idea who she was talking to at first, and Nelly insisted that she was lying because she could not remember the name of any hotel they had met at. Now, I really don't give a damn whether Nelly slept with Kat Stacks or not. My issue is this: You have soooo much to say in attempts to "clear your name" over allegations made by some groupie hoe ~~knowing damn well that you smashed her~~, yet you couldn't man up and explain yourself to college students about why you chose to make that tasteless "Tip Drill" nonsense? Boo, Cornell. Boo. Yes, I used his government.

4. Nursery Rhymes

I don't think there is too much that needs to go here. We are talking about a man whose claim to fame was a single that included the lyrics "shimmy shimmy cocoa puff." 'Nuff said.

5. Apple Bottoms

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a deep hatred for all things hoodrat related. Hoodrat labels, in particular, make me itch. Therefore, I could not complete this blog post without speaking on Nelly and the role he has played in contributing to the hoodrat epidemic. The Apple Bottoms brand launched in 2003, and was targeted towards African-American women who had a hard time fitting into jeans that were intended to conform to the body types of their Caucasian counterparts. I get the concept, and it's actually not a horrible idea. But just like 99.9% of "urban" fashion brands, the clothes are always adorned with garish rhinestones and shit, whether it's a t-shirt, jean pockets, or a hoodie. I don't know who is in charge of the Apple Bottoms design team, but someone needs to tell them that just because I'm black, doesn't mean I want some damn bedazzled apples splashed all over my freakum dress.

Here We Go.

2010-09-23T22:53:00.003-04:00

So.......I may or not get fired because I said "Oh my God" under my breath while dealing with a belligerent customer today. And the thought of being fired makes me happy and sad.

Happy, because I have loathed coming to work every day since I started training, and because I feel absolutely violated that I have to work 60+ hours a week just to pull a decent paycheck. Sad, because a shitty job is the equivalent of being in a shitty relationship/friendship: you hate it and know it should be put to an end, but when and if that time ever comes, you want to be the one doing the dumping, not the other way around.

Anyway, back to this cunt who called in today. I usually refrain from using that word because it's super vulgar, but in this case, that's the best word I can think of to describe the woman I spoke with. She was nasty from the moment I answered the call. Her complaint was that she had ordered a replacement phone yesterday, and got an e-mail with the tracking number. When she checked the e-mail, she saw an order for a replacement battery for a phone that she did not own. I checked the order tracking system to try to figure out what she was talking about. I saw the order for her phone, but nothing about a battery. At this point, I'm thinking: "This bitch is crazy." She obviously just wanted to call to complain about an issue that didn't exist, then got pissed because I couldn't find any information regarding this non-existent issue. She complained about how many times she had been transferred before getting to my department, and demanded to know why another customer service rep had told her there was an order for a battery if there wasn't. I paused for about ten seconds while looking through previous notes on her account, and she snapped that "all this dead silence is bad customer service."

At some point, I suppose I muttered, "Oh my God" out of pure frustration that I had to stay on the phone with a customer who didn't even have a real issue, when I could be helping someone who did. At this point, she asked for a supervisor and said, "Do you want your job? I hope they're recording this call." I gladly put her on hold to get in touch with someone in the "escalations" department, and she hung up while I was speaking with someone on the other line. The escalations team member told me he would call her back, and that was that.

Now I think I was fairly calm, considering the situation. I can think of a million worse things that I could have said besides "Oh my God." However, I have had first-hand experience with being terminated over some petty shit, based solely on the whim of the pigmentally-challenged, and I'm in no hurry to be in that predicament again. I've heard stories of people from my current job getting the boot because they said a few choice words to a customer when they thought they had hit the mute button, but I don't know if my slip-up is serious enough to require disciplinary action.

We shall see. I just know that if I find out I don't have a job after a 35 minute drive tomorrow, some office equipment will be vandalized.

Holy Roller.

2010-09-14T09:00:00.003-04:00

The media was in a frenzy over the past week, due to Florida pastor Terry Jones' announcement that he planned to host "Burn the Qu'ran" day at his church on September 11th. He rationalized his decision with the usual claims that "Islam is of the devil," and added that the burning was meant to expose Islam for the "violent and oppressive" religion that it is......although I suppose burning things is not violent? Ultimately, Pastor Jones ~~got the publicity he wanted~~ had a change of heart, and the burning was canceled, but it prompted me to write about my own thoughts on religion--and I have a lot. Brace yourselves folks, this is gonna be a long one.

Religion has been a part of my life since a very early age. As a little girl, I went to church in Illinois with my mom and was an honorary member of the adult choir. My mom always tells me the story of how I told her that I wanted to be baptized at the age of 3. She told the pastor about my request and he talked to me to make sure I understood what I was doing. They realized I was serious, and arranged the baptism ASAP. My father didn't attend because he thought I was too young to make that decision on my own--but that's another story. Eventually we moved to St. Louis and visited a number of churches, but never found the "home church" that a lot of people speak of; the church that they have been going to for 20 years and will continue to go to until the day they die. Nah, I never had that. We would join a church, but then some scandal would occur and my mom would decide it was time to bounce. Through it all, she still made sure that my siblings and I read our Bibles, prayed, and listened to that good ol' gospel music just about every day.

When I was about 18, we joined a small church where the head pastor was an older single woman with kids around my age. This was a time in my life when I was angry as hell about everything, every day, for no reason in particular. However, the pastor at this church didn't seem to be fazed by my abrasive attitude and she could usually tell when something was wrong with me. She gave me her phone number and I would call her when I needed to talk, and she gave me the encouragement I needed. Her sermons always seemed to relate to whatever I was dealing with, and I ended up in tears every Sunday (and anyone who knows me knows that I am not a crying person). It got to the point where I decided to join the praise team and sing in church occasionally, which was another big step for me because I can't stand talking or being in front of a crowd, much less sing in front of one.

It seemed that everything was all good, but of course, some bullshit had to come about. There was a boy at the church who my mom was convinced was possessed by the devil. He had this crazy look in his eyes, and was always instigating in an attempt to get under people's skin. He also took it upon himself to target my younger brother and poke fun at him. Because my brother doesn't wear pants hanging off his ass, doesn't try to holler at every girl that passes him by, and actually acts like he has common sense ~~most of the time~~, that somehow translates to being gay. During a Bible study for the teenagers at our church, my brother made a comment and "Devil Boy" retorted by calling him a faggot. Yeah. I, of course, was ready to jump across the table and whoop his ass for being so disrespectful, and in church of all places. My parents heard about it soon after, and spoke with the pastor regarding the issue. I was expecting her to reprimand the boy for his comment, but instead she told me and my brother that we shouldn't have taken offense to what was said. Wait......what? How is that not offensive? How is that appropriate? How can you condone a homophobic slur in the "house of God?"

Things went downhill from there. Devil Boy's mom was always giving me and my brother dirty looks as if we had called HER son a faggot, Devil Boy was still wreaking havoc in the church, then my mom was hospitalized for psychiatric issues for the first time in her life. I was lost, angry, and I started questioning whether or not God existed. If He did, why would He let things like this happen? Eventually we left that church as well, and from that point I refused to go to any church with my family. I stopped reading my Bible, stopped praying, and stopped listening to gospel music. In my opinion, none of that mattered if bad things were going to happen away.

Then I moved to Florida, came back home for a while, then moved to Atlanta. While being out on my own, I made friends with people who were either agnostic or atheist. At the time, they were some of the coolest people I had ever met. They didn't have that pie-in-the-sky unrealistic view of life that I had experienced dealing with Christian folks, and they gave the same side-eye that I gave to the dramatic people in church who are always fainting and getting the Holy Ghost every Sunday for no damn reason. But then.......they started doing crazy shit too.

So now I'm stuck. I don't want to associate myself with Christians because *some* of them be on that psycho shit like Pastor Jones, blaming an entire religion based off the actions of a small group of people. But I can't call myself an atheist, because as sarcastic and skeptical as I am, I can't bring myself to think there is no God. I don't know where I fit. I don't know what I should or shouldn't do, because I don't want to be a hypocrite like a lot of Christians I come in contact with. You know, the ones who curse people out at the grocery store, smoke a blunt after work, meet up with their married lover during the weekend, but will still be front row and center in church on Sunday morning, singing about how good God has been to them. I couldn't look myself in the mirror if I were like that, and I don't know how other people do. One thing about me is that when I make the commitment to do something, I go all the way with it.

Right now, I only go to church if my mom requests it, I drink, I curse a lot, and I'm not very nice to most people, but I'm not playing the role of Ms. Holy Roller when I get around other Christian folks just to "appear" that I'm living my life for Jesus. I feel that when (and if) I make the decision to get back to living my life for Jesus, all of that has to stop. And I can't say that I'm ready for that. I could probably go on, but I'll stop here.

Stanmanship.

2010-09-13T09:00:00.002-04:00

I know I said I was tired of talking about celebrities, and I am. This post is dedicated to the average folks who watch every move that their favorite celebrity makes, and literally worship the ground that said celebrity walks on. These people are what most of us know as "stans."

For anyone that's not familiar with the definition of a stan, allow me to break it down to you. The term was introduced to pop culture after the release of Eminem's 2000 single "Stan" about a crazed fan who is so obsessed with Eminem that he emulates everything about the rapper's lifestyle, including his volatile relationship with his girlfriend. The term now describes a fan that has an unhealthy obsession with any celebrity or athlete. (Although it has gotten to the point that even reality show cast members seem to have stans now. Go figure.)

I have my own opinion of what constitutes a stan. I think a stan is anyone who co-signs with everything a celebrity says or does, no matter how fucked up or retarded it is. These are the ones that will tattoo Lil' Wayne's face on their bodies, or argue that Lil' Kim was only trying to enhance her features with that plastic surgery. TI got caught with guns and drug paraphernalia? "Oh, that's just The Man trying to get him," a stan would say. They use no logic at all when it comes to their fave celeb, and would probably denounce Christ if He were to ever criticize the stans' hero. When reading your favorite entertainment blog, you can always count on a stan to be the first one in the comments section in all their caps-locked glory, cursing the blogger that dares to post unflattering pictures or articles about the celeb that they love more than life itself.

I often wonder: How do stans function in everyday life? Do these people have jobs, do they go to school? What did they do with themselves before their favorite celebrity was internationally known? What ~~personality disorder~~ characteristic do they have that makes them so enamored with someone who they will probably never meet, and will never even know they exist?

I can say that I only "stan" for a select few celebrities, but even in my stanmanship, I have the capability to know when enough is enough. I used to ride or die for Rihanna back in the day; she could do no wrong in my eyes. Post-Chris Brown, however, I came to the realization that she was making some questionable choices, personal and style-wise. It got to the point where I just couldn't co-sign some of the shit she was doing/wearing.

^^^^This is the Rihanna I could stan for.

This........is not.

I suppose that would mean I'm not a true stan. A true stan would love Rihanna through thick and thin, in the good times and the bad. If Rihanna shaved her head and tattooed the world map on it, then posted a Twitpic, a true stan would comment, "0MG $h3 I$ $0 f@Shi0Nabl3!!!!!!!!!!!" <---------Because that is the required writing style of any stan worth his/her weight. No, that's not fashionable. That is insanity. There's a difference between trend setting and crying out for help. Stans don't seem to understand that difference.

Now that I'm part of the Twitter community, I can see the celebrity obsession even more. The other day, someone made the observation that people seemed more concerned with the Twitter "beef" between Soulja Boy and Fabolous, than they were with the pastor that was planning to burn the Qur'an on September 11th. A couple days ago, the "Team Breezy" stans were in their zone when Chris Brown's mom was criticized for her bizarre tweet that "Michael Jackson died so Chris Brown could live." I still don't get that one, but I won't even go there. I mean, really, people? Why do any of us give a fuck about the cyber-thugging of two D-list rappers? Why are you threatening to cut a bitch because she took C.Breezy's mama's tweet as another opportunity to poke fun at his bow tie? Are you going to get any further in life by participating in this foolishness? I highly doubt it.

I believe that stans, along with Crocs and the word "swag," should be wiped from the face of the earth. Not on some messy "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" shit, but very quietly. Like one day you'll read a blog and say to yourself, "Hey! There are no ignorant ass, grammatically embarrassing, crotch-riding comments about Trey Songz' new album." Or you'll go on Twitter and not have to worry about your eyesight being assaulted by stupid screen names like "@Rih-Breezyminaj."

Who am I kidding though? Stans are here to stay......at least for the time being. I guess I should kick back and get my laughs in while I can.

Blog Lovin'.

2010-09-11T09:00:00.000-04:00

So I hit up Elle's blog a while ago to be posted as a "featured follower." She has a really cool concept where she sets up a form for bloggers to fill out and tell everyone about themselves, and what their blog is all about. I appreciate her doing that and hope that this will give me the opportunity to connect with some more people in the blogging world. You can check out the post here, and make sure to show Elle some love as well!

Coming Up Empty.

2010-09-05T14:48:00.002-04:00

Dammit, another brain freeze. I can't think of anything to write for this blog or my fashion blog. Very annoying, considering that writing is one thing that gives me at least a small dose of happiness. I guess there just isn't much for me to blog about. Same ol' stuff is going on as far as my personal life, and the same ol' stuff is going on in the entertainment world.

I briefly considered blogging about a certain rapper/actor and his wife getting into trouble over some silly shit, but to be honest, I'm tired of hearing/seeing/writing about celebrities and the foolishness that they get themselves into. I feel like everyone has said what needs to be said about that situation, so there's no need to be repetitive. I can say that it definitely is going to make me reconsider whether or not to go see anyone's movie or buy their album, because I'm not spending my money to support anyone's drug habit or love of guns. Nobody shells out money to support my shopping habit, so why should celebs get that privilege?

Question.

2010-08-30T09:00:00.004-04:00

So I went to see Takers for its opening weekend. Although I knew the theater would be packed with loud and rowdy middle/high-school aged kids, I braved the crowd so I could be front row and center to see my husband. (The movie was awesome, by the way. I don't want to give away too many details for those that haven't seen it, but I don't understand why they always gotta do my baby like that.) This post was inspired by what I witnessed while waiting in line at the concession stand.

A group of kids were in front of us, and two boys who looked to be about 12 or 13 stood out to me. One of them had what seems to be the mandatory faux-hawk for pre-adolescent boys, and was wearing a plaid shirt, skinny jeans, and whatever the latest sneakers are for that age. The other wore a similar get-up, except he had on a purple t-shirt and shoes to match. After they had gathered all of their snacks, each one sashayed by with more sugar in his step than RuPaul, Miss J, and Andre Leon Talley mixed into one big bowl of glitter-liciousness. Yes, I'm making up words and shit.

For some reason, this disturbed me. Anyone who knows me can attest that I am very liberal and I have no problem with homosexuals. For a long period of time, most of my friends were either gay or bisexual. My problem is when pre-teen boys are playing the role of "queen" before they even understand what it means.

This brings me to my next question: What's going on with their parents? I know when I was 12, I didn't have the money to buy my own clothes, and whenever I did go shopping, my mom was right there with me. Any clothing item I attempted to choose that my mother deemed inappropriate for my age, quickly went right back on the rack I picked it up from. Maybe that's not the case with parents nowadays; maybe they just throw some cash at their kids and send them to the mall. I don't know. What I would like to know is what could be going through a parent's mind, where they would allow their child to dress and act a certain way at such a young age.

I have heard the debate that some people are "born gay." This could be true. I haven't researched it, and I don't claim to be an expert on the topic, so I won't make any arguments for or against that theory. If I were a parent and my eight-year-old told me he/she was gay, I'm not sure what my reaction would be. However, I think no matter what may be going on in a child's life, until the age of eighteen, it's still a child. In my mind, there is nothing okay about a young boy wearing midriff tops and lip gloss, nor is it okay for a little girl to rock a buzz cut and baggy cargo pants in an attempt to look like a "stud."

Now I will turn this question over to everyone else. If you're a parent (and even if you're not; feel free to answer from a hypothetical standpoint), would you allow your pre-teen to dress and/or behave in a manner stereotypical of the opposite sex?

RIP Baby Girl.

2010-08-26T00:15:00.004-04:00

I feel bad for posting this all late, but I still wanted to pay my respects. I can't believe it's been 9 years. Craziness.

I was going to mention the ongoing debate between certain stans regarding "which female R&B star would be more popular than which" if Aaliyah were still alive, but I don't feel like writing no long shit. I will say that I think she was at the peak of her career and I wish we could have seen what she had in store. Maybe it really is true that everything happens for a reason. I also wanted to say that I thought Drake's letter to her was really sweet. You got my eyes watering over here Drizzy, stop it.

RIP Aaliyah

P.S. When is that Aaliyah biopic coming out?

Really, Soulja Boy?

2010-08-24T08:00:00.002-04:00

I can't with these rappers. I knew Soulja Boy was dumb but..........this is just DUMB. Like the ultimate dumb. As several people have said on other blogs, I can think of 2 dozen different girls he could have scooped up to "chill with" in Atlanta that DON'T have a reputation for having a big mouth. This is the equivalent of thinking you can spend some one-on-one time with Kim Kardashian without having it splashed on the cover of every tabloid in existence.

I'm not 100% sold on the whole snorting coke thing, because we didn't actually see him snort it, and I see he is already trying to do damage control via Twitter:

I'm not the religious type, but since we want to bring God into it, I have to go to the scripture on this one. "Abstain from all appearances of evil." I don't know what could be more "evil" than a self-proclaimed prostitute and rumored drug addict.....and you want us to believe that your time spent with her was completely innocent? Okay. I don't judge ~~too much,~~ but Soulja Boy shot himself in the foot with this one. I know his publicist is sitting in a corner somewhere crying. Can you say #prettydumbswag? Peep the video below:

I Be On My Emo Shit.

2010-08-23T08:05:00.002-04:00

I feel like I'm in a time warp. That's what my Facebook status says.....yes, I got back on Facebook. Don't ask why; I think it was more out of boredom than anything else. Anyway, back to the time warp thing.

It seems like not much has changed in my life for the past several years. Little things have changed: I got a haircut, moved around a bit, made some new friends, dumped the new friends, but there hasn't been anything MAJOR. Does that make any sense? When I think about it, nothing major has happened in my life period. That's kind of depressing. I feel like something needs to happen soon, or I'm going to lose my mind. I need to have a baby, get married, win the lottery, something. This steady flow of ho-hum everyday life is not cutting it. I hate the fact that I wake up every morning, shower, get dressed, drive 40 minutes to work, fight the urge to gouge my eyeballs out for 8 1/2 hours, drive 40 minutes back home, search for food, go to bed, wake up, and do it all over again. How do people do that shit for 20+ years? I read those articles that say life expectancy for people in my generation is in the 90s. I can't imagine life being like this for the next 70 years. That just can't be right.

I feel like everyone and everything around me is changing, but I'm stuck. I know I'm saying "I feel" and "it seems" a lot in this post, but bear with me. One of my friends graduated, another is pregnant. Maybe that says something about me. I can already hear what some people that I know would say if I told them all this: "You can't look at other people and what they're doing. You have to look at yourself." To those people I would like to say.....fuck off. I'm not in the mood for it today. Even though they are probably right. But how does one go about "changing" their own life? How do you wake up one morning, look at yourself in the mirror and say: "Self, today YOU are going to change YOUR own life!"? The day I do that I may need to have myself committed.

Life feels like one long-ass financial aid line for me right now. I'm always waiting. Just waiting. Waiting for what exactly? I have no idea. Whatever I'm waiting for needs to hurry up and happen already because I don't think I can take it anymore.

Always Gotta Throw Shade.

2010-08-23T08:00:00.006-04:00

Okay, for once I'm not just posting a random picture of Michael Ealy because I'm in love. I actually have a point this time. Today while I was bored at work I decided to check my Blogger Dashboard for the 20 millionth time to see what was cracking in the blogger world. Imagine my unadulterated delight when I saw this interview posted on Necole Bitchie's website. Of course I clicked the link quick, fast, and in a hurry so I could see what my hubby ~~and uh, Chris Brown too~~ had to say about the upcoming movie. Since the video was only a couple minutes long, my boredom compelled me to look through all the comments that had been left on the post as well.

Tell me why the VERY FIRST comment says: "I don't even like lightskin brothers but.. LET US PRAY. TOO Too fine!"

*Slams on imaginary brakes, making that ever so poignant "skkkkkrrrrrtttt" sound*

Why? Just.....why? I know it was a black woman. Anyone who wants to come at me about being prejudiced or jumping to conclusions can kiss my ass, because I know it was a black woman. How do I know this? Because black women--and black people in general--are the main ones always hooping and hollering about being discriminated against and/or mistreated because of their weight, their skin color, their nose, their lips, their hair texture, their social/economic background, yet they will turn around and "clown" someone else for the same reasons.

The "I don't like light skinned dudes" comment is one that I've heard far more times than I care to talk about. I have never understood why it seems to be a cardinal sin to be attracted to light skinned black men. It's also contradictory as hell, because every time I've seen a cute light skinned guy at school or at a club, a flock of females is never too far behind him. If they are so undesirable, why all the groupies? If one doesn't like light skinned brothers, why is one making an "exception" for the likes of Chris Brown and Michael Ealy?

What's even worse about comments like the ones mentioned above, is that the women who make the comments are the same ones who would be ready to fight a nigga if he said, "Yo, I don't usually like dark-skinned chicks, but you bad." How can you get mad though? Isn't that the EXACT same thing? Why is it suddenly a problem when derogatory comments are made about people that have a darker complexion? Why is it only okay to give under-handed compliments to someone if they are light-skinned?

Not to mention, with all the drama about black women not being able to find a "good man," are we really going to be that picky when it comes to choosing someone? Just a few days ago, my brother was taunting me because whenever I'm crushing on a guy, he always happens to be light skinned. I don't know why that is....I have always just had a "thing" for them. However, I can honestly say that I have NEVER, EVER rejected/snubbed a guy because he was of a certain skin tone. As picky as I am, I am willing to compromise my preference of certain physical qualities more than I am on personality and/or intelligence. I'll take an intelligent dark-skinned brother who can hold a conversation, over a Michael Ealy look-alike that can't spell, any day. I know y'all don't believe me, but it's cool. I hear too many women making up bullshit reasons for why they won't entertain certain guys and it's ridiculous. I'm not saying every black woman should take the first man that comes her way, but why is it a deal breaker if he's a certain height, or skin color, or tucks his shirt in instead of letting it hang?

Maybe it's just me.

The Good Ol' Days.

2010-08-18T08:00:00.000-04:00

I was just complaining that nothing has happened lately for me to rant about, therefore giving me nothing to write about. I was bored with writing about co-workers, and the influx of celebrity fuckery has been fairly slow as of late. Just when I thought I was about to have another brain freeze, I decided to watch "The Great Debaters." This would be my first time watching the movie, even though I had been wanting to see it forever, but never got a chance to.

It was a great movie if I do say so. It also triggered me to think about the state of historically black colleges back in the 1930s, as opposed to historically black colleges of today. I suppose I should put a disclaimer somewhere before I get started. I'm not trying to come at anyone sideways who has attended or graduated from an HBCU. I am simply going to give my opinion based on my experiences and observations at the HBCU I attended.

When I made the decision to attend Clark Atlanta University back in 2008, I could not have been happier. I told anyone who would listen about my grand plans to move to the "A." I couldn't wait to be in what has been called the "Black Mecca," and network with intellectual, upwardly mobile black people that valued education and wanted to make something of themselves. I had heard some naysayers give their opinion that a degree from an HBCU would not be taken "seriously" in the real world, but I strongly disagreed. In my opinion, HBCUs were the foundation that higher education for African-Americans had been built on, and they would surely be of the same quality--if not better--that they were during the Jim Crow era.

Imagine my surprise--and disappointment--when I got to my "dream" school and realized that everything I had expected was exactly that....a dream. Within the first couple weeks of my matriculation, I was sick to my stomach because I felt like I had made the worst decision ever. I went to orientation events that included watching my fellow coeds backing that ass up on one another. The majority of girls that I spoke to seemed less interested in exploring academic options, and more interested in hitting up Lenox Mall and "talking" to as many guys on campus, and at the neighboring campus of Morehouse, as they possibly could.

As classes began, I noticed even more so how uninvolved a lot of the students seemed to be when it came to finishing class assignments or even coming to class at all. I had some classmates who rarely showed up to class unless it was exam day, and many others moaned and groaned when instructors assigned 5-page papers. The actual exams that we took were beyond easy, and in one class, so many people neglected to buy the required textbook that my professor simply made photocopies of everything that we needed to read and handed them out. Needless to say, I was pissed that I was taking the effort, and spending the money, to do what I thought was required of everyone.

Towards the end of my first semester, I had dealt with so much bullshit with the school, and bullshit in Atlanta in general, that I knew I couldn't stay at CAU. I contemplated going to Georgia State, and also SCAD-Atlanta, which is where I had originally planned to go before I found out that CAU had a Fashion program. Unfortunately, SCAD was even more expensive than CAU so that was a no-go. I went home for Christmas break and took that time to think about what I wanted to do the next semester. I hesitantly decided to go back to CAU the following spring, and although I made the effort to change my attitude about the situation I had put myself in, the atmosphere hadn't changed at all. People still hung out on the campus Promenade more than they went to class, and still sent exam answers via text message rather than studying for the exam. This was the same semester that CAU decided to make faculty cuts, and one of my classes was canceled without any prior notice to the students.

I had had enough, and by the end of my second semester, I came to the conclusion that CAU just wasn't for me. I am the type of person that gets very bored when I'm not being challenged, and being at CAU was not challenging at all. It made no sense to me that I could go without reading any of the required textbooks in my classes and still get A's. My mother advised me that I should just stay there, get straight A's, get my degree, and get out. Being my stubborn self, I couldn't bring myself to do it. In my mind, if I didn't feel like I earned that degree, it didn't mean shit. I wouldn't even be able to take myself seriously, so how could I expect a potential employer to take me seriously when going in for a job interview? I began to understand what people meant when they said that degrees from HBCUs did not carry the same weight as degrees from other institutions of higher learning. Although I understood it, it pissed me off. What happened to the historically black colleges of decades past? Where were the W.E.B. DuBoises, the Langston Hughes, the Thurgood Marshalls? Where was this damn Black Mecca that I had heard so much about? Why were my peers less concerned about getting a quality education, and more concerned about wearing the latest pair of True Religions, and comparing who could do the best "dougie" moves?

"The Great Debaters" is an example of the historically black college that I envisioned before embarking on my journey to Atlanta. That was the time when professors mentally stimulated their students, rather than giving them a grade just so they would not have to take the same class twice. That was the time when education was truly valued, because they actually had to fight for it. It saddens me that the value placed on higher education for black people seems to have been lost on a lot of people in my generation. I don't want to say that I have completely lost faith in historically black colleges, but I can say that I look at it from a very different light than I did several years ago.

Tweet Me Baby.

2010-08-17T14:13:00.003-04:00

I know.....mad corny. #dontjudgeme

Aaah, I'm doing it already! Yes, I broke down and made a damn Twitter. Only because I promised myself that I would go full force with promoting the fashion blog. With that said.....follow me bitches!

http://twitter.com/uglycleanbroke4

Guilty Pleasure.

2010-08-17T08:00:00.005-04:00

Maybe it's because I am reserved and quiet 95% of the time, or maybe it's because I have never physically been in a fight with another woman, but I have been a fan of the "Bad Girls Club" for the past several years. I get some sort of morbid pleasure out of living vicariously through the 7 bad girls as they unapologetically drink themselves into oblivion, swim topless in the pool, and fight each other because someone drank their roommate's juice. Ever since Tanisha dared her unsuspecting roommates to "pop off," I haven't been able to stay away from the Oxygen channel's naughtiest show.

However, one thing that never adds up to me about this "reality" show, much like others, is that the reality factor seems to have been completely eliminated from the equation. Back when "Bad Girls Club" first made its debut, the girls featured on the show looked like normal everyday people that you would chill with on the weekends.....well, maybe not chill with because they always got into bar fights, but you get the idea. As the seasons have progressed, I notice that the normal girls have been replaced by video vixen wannabes with fake tans, implants, and too much makeup, who take it upon themselves to divide the house between the "pretty girls" and the "ugly girls."

Another thing that strikes me as being a little off: do girls REALLY get into that many fights EVERY SINGLE TIME they go out? I've gone out with my friends to the club many times and never had an altercation with another group of girls. Now that I think about it, there was a roommate I had in Florida who seemed like the type to get into fights over bullshit when we went out. I promptly stopped going to the club with her though. Some have speculated that random girls start shit simply because they want to get their 15 seconds of blurry-faced fame, but what I want to know is how do they know what show is being filmed? For all they know, the camera crew could be filming "For the Love of Ray-J: Season 3." Knowing some of the loud-mouthed girls on the show, they probably tell everyone in the club that they are part of BGC, but then how can they be surprised when they are targeted because of it? Whatever. I'm convinced that the club fights are staged to add to the "bad" factor of being a "bad girl."

In spite of some of the discrepancies, there has to be a reason why BGC is the most-watched show on the Oxygen channel. What that reason is exactly? I don't know, but as always, I like to give my take on it anyway. As I stated earlier, I want to unleash my inner bad girl sometimes, and I think a lot of women do as well. Who hasn't wanted to sucker punch a stupid co-worker, or throw a drink on that douche bag at the club for thinking it was okay to grab your ass as you walked by? I know I have, but if you try that shit in real life, you'll usually end up unemployed and/or in jail. In the BGC world, that type of behavior seems to not only be allowed, but encouraged. It is one of the few reality shows that has no goal to achieve by season's end. There are no prestigious job offers, no final rose ceremonies, no heartfelt therapy sessions with Dr. Drew. The girls simply indulge in an endless supply of liquor, party at the hottest clubs, hook up with random boys, and slap each other around until the show producers allow them to vote off whomever is the least popular one in the household. It's one of those things that's so bad, it's good.

Does BGC have any substance or moral fiber in its hour of air time every week? No. Will I be tuning in every week to witness the lack of substance and morality? Hell yes.

Sooo......

2010-08-14T03:00:00.000-04:00

.........I was in the middle of composing a good-ass complex blog post with lots of pictures and everything....when a thunderstorm started. Then the power cut off. I thought it would be saved, but I only see the letter "I" in my blog post when I checked it from my phone. I'm almost close to tears right now. :(

Finally......

2010-08-13T23:34:00.003-04:00

.........I found time to start up the new fashion blog. I'm still playing around with the layout and whatnot, but here's the link if you want to take a peek.

As always, follows/comments/suggestions are welcome! :)

P.S. I'm contemplating making a Twitter account for the fashion blog as well. Good idea?

I Heart Her.

2010-08-11T23:20:00.000-04:00

There Are 3 People in the World That Make Me Wonder Why God Made Them.........

2010-08-10T02:45:00.005-04:00

....................R. Kelly, Kat Stacks, and now, Montana Fishburne. I know, everyone's talked about her plenty, but I have to give my two cents. As we all know, the offspring of Laurence Fishburne has decided to show off her acting chops by starring in her own porn video, a la Kim Kardashian. I never thought there would be a day that anyone would look to Kim Kardashian as a role model, but as many would say, these are the last days.

As if that weren't ridiculous enough, she is riding this wave of infamy for as long as she can. I saw this interview over at Missjia.com where Montana drops more golden nuggets of knowledge to whomever it is that she thinks is taking her seriously. Among other things, she is asked for "advice" that she would give to young women that look to prostitution as a means of income, and she states that she does not condone prostitution, but she does support women like herself who love their bodies and "are not ashamed."

Let me pause right there. I don't think I can ever express how annoying/pompous I think it is when women try to mask their skanky-ness as sexual freedom. You mean to tell me that in order for women to prove that they're not ashamed of their bodies, they have to do porn? What is the world coming to? Why do you need to exploit yourself to prove that you're free-spirited? Can't you just walk around your house naked if you want to be comfortable with your body? I really shouldn't even be mad about that statement though, since she's obviously lying through her teeth. She has clearly made it known that she's in this for the fame.....but now she's attributing her decision to do porn to her "free spirit." Girl, stop.

The other thing that would almost be laughable about this if it weren't so sad, is that she seriously is using Kim Kardashian as the prototype on how to become a well-known actress. Yes, because KK has been in so many critically acclaimed films since that tape with Ray-J. Everyone knows that Kim is the exception to the rule, not the rule itself. Everyone except Montana, that is. Never mind that minor little detail that her dad probably has more connections in Hollywood than Kim Kardashian will ever have. Oh no, that's not important at all.

I always say that I would like to get into the minds of people like Montana just to figure out what their thought process is exactly. At what point in life does one say to themselves, "Self, you know what you should do? Since your dad is an A-list actor and can get you a starring role in any movie you choose, you should come out with a sex tape! But wait! You know what would be even better?! You should announce to the world that you're doing it because you're such a huge fan of Kim Kardashian!"

The disturbing thing is, I have a sinking feeling that this could lead to lots of girls "releasing" sex tapes as if they are music videos........

My 100th Post!

2010-08-10T00:00:00.002-04:00

Nothing really special that I wanted to say in particular. 100 is usually significant, but I have nothing significant to say at the moment. I'm surprised I got up to 100 posts so fast, considering that I only posted like once a month when I first started my blog. Hopefully I can keep it up, since I got the "innanet" again. :)

:)

2010-08-06T17:31:00.004-04:00

*Sigh*

God, why is this man so gorgeous? He just.....ugh. If anyone can figure out a way to clone him and send him to St. Louis, I would be ever so grateful. This photo was taken at the LA premiere of "Takers" and if I had known about the event, I would have been trying to get a plane ticket to be there. Oh well. Trust I will be front and center when "Takers" comes out in theaters August 27th.

Hoodrat Quote of the Day.

2010-08-06T17:21:00.004-04:00

I'll stop after this, I promise.

At my job, they have chat rooms set up for us to ask the floor support team questions when we need help troubleshooting a customer's phone. In the short time I've been there, some of our supervisors have threatened several times to shut down the chat rooms because people are having "unprofessional" conversations within the chat. Another tidbit of information to help everyone understand this story is that there was an incentive program for our training class to have perfect attendance. Anyone who came to work on time for 30 days straight would receive a $100 gift card.

Yesterday I'm sitting at my computer when one of the hoodrats from my training class sends out this question to everyone in the chat room:

"Can i use my vip gift card at taco bell"

*Dead*

P.S. Tell me why nobody responded to her.

Labels That Hoodrats Love.

2010-08-06T16:36:00.003-04:00

Lately, I have been inspired by hoodrats. God help me, but they give me something to blog about. This one came to me after hearing a hoodrat at work brag about the leopard Betsey Johnson handbag she received as a birthday gift, and how it was normally more than $60, but her friend got it for $22 at TJ Maxx.
Can I be blunt and say that I find this bag absolutely hideous? I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I was done with all that flashy shit back in the 7th grade. I can't even take my old Dooney & Bourke bag out anymore because I can't stand those rainbow colored "DBs" splashed all over it. It made me think though. I believe there are two types of people when it comes to wearing designer clothes and/or carrying designer bags: there are people that wear the labels, and there are people that let the labels wear them. Hoodrats are the people that let the labels wear them. They will wear the most God-awful dress and if anyone dares to criticize it, they retort with, "Giiiiirl, what you talkin' 'bout? 'Dis Gucci!" Damn, it hurt my soul to type like that. Anyway, somehow they think that simply being able to name who made the dress is justification enough for subjecting the world to their bad sense of style. This seems to have been going on for as long as I can remember. Back in the '90s, FUBU, Baby Phat, and Sean John were the "in" labels. I'm saddened to say that even I owned a FUBU jacket and a pair of denim FUBU overalls. Just for fun, I've decided to highlight a few modern-day labels that are all the rage in Hoodville.

Louis Vuitton

I don't know if it had anything to do with Kanye West and his proclamation of being the "Louis Vuitton Don," but I'm sure most would agree that it is a hard feat to find a girl (or even a guy) that isn't carrying a wallet, purse, or wearing a backpack with the "LV" logo stamped on it in all of its hoodrat glory. The standard monogram handbags appear to have been replaced by the Louis Vuitton Damier bags, and it's not uncommon for me to see at least 2-3 hood chicks at work walking by with the handles of an LV Damier handbag dangling from their wrists just so. I suppose it's meant to let everyone know they "got it like that." I already know how much you make, no need for all that.

Gucci

Maybe there's just something about designers that make products with the label's initials garishly adorning them, because Gucci is another one that can be seen on hoodrats nationwide. Don't even get me started on those loathsome Gucci sneakers that guys and girls alike can be seen sporting in the club. Sneakers in the club are NEVER okay, I don't care if Jesus Himself designed them.

Coach

I'll try to be nice on this one, because my mom owns a Coach bag, and I bought a Coach wristlet once upon a time....although I never carried it. In my defense, it didn't even have the trademark "C's" on it; it was a simple tan leather wristlet. I think I just bought it because there was a good sale at the Coach outlet store. Back to the topic at hand. The multi-colored Coach handbags that I see some girls carry give me a migraine, and it gets even worse when the purse is paired with--you guessed it--a pair of Coach sneakers.

Creative Recreations

I won't lie; when I first moved to Atlanta, I would have sold my soul for a pair of Creative Recs. It seemed like everyone had at least 3 pairs of them. I wanted the ones with pink and gold in them. Fortunately (or unfortunately, so I thought at the time) I was too broke to afford a pair, and by the time I did have $100 to blow on them, I had to ask myself, "Self....what were you THINKING?" Blame it on peer pressure.

On the flip side, when I think of people who wear the labels, the best example in my opinion is Kimmy of the Strawberry Stiletto blog. I looked at every page on her blog, that's how awesome her style was to me (I also love the name of her blog for some reason). Even though she wears a lot of designer brands and carries a lot of designer bags, I could tell she still has her own style, rather than letting the logos define her. She rocks her labels the way I think I would if I had money to blow on designer threads.

I know this was a long one, but I'm done ranting now.

My Bitch.

2010-08-04T11:42:00.002-04:00

Just wanted to post this photo of the awesomeness. That is all.

Fashion Blog?

2010-08-04T11:26:00.006-04:00

I'm not sure if I told the story of how I began blogging. If I did, I apologize, but here it goes again. I was first introduced to the blogging world when I began my short matriculation at CAU. Some fashion students decided to get together and blog about styles and trends relevant to CAU and Atlanta in general. The blog project fell through faster than Christina Milian and The Dream's marriage (sorry I couldn't resist), but I had already been bitten by the blogging bug so a friend and I started our own blog.

Then that friendship ended, and so did the blog. By now, I was a little burned out from all the drama and I mostly just read blogs from time to time. I decided to get back into it last year, but this blog has mainly consisted of my gripes and issues with life. I post random pics of shoes that I want every now and then, but it's not as fashion-oriented as my other blogging endeavors were.

Which brings me to my current dilemma. I know that my dream career is to be an editor/journalist/publicist/stylist/something in the fashion world. Whenever I do my research on how to "break into" the industry, the most important thing after snagging an internship is showing your writing skills and views on fashion, i.e. a fashion blog. I'm thinking of starting a separate blog from this one that is "all fashion everything." Only problem is.....it's hard enough keeping up with THIS blog; how am I going to juggle having two?

As always, suggestions/comments are welcome!

If They Like It, I Love It.

2010-08-01T19:08:00.000-04:00

So I'm pretty sure I saw a couple on a date at Barnes & Noble the other day....in the children's section. The girl was all dressed up and everything. Now I love me some books, but in the words of my fave blogger Miss Jia, "Where they do that at?"

Apparently in "da Lou," that's where.

P.S. More blogs coming soon. This work schedule has been crazy, and I've been having some technical (read: parental) difficulties, so my Internet access is limited at the moment.

Phone Bloggin' (translation: boredom)

2010-07-27T18:18:00.000-04:00

Finding the perfect apartment seems to be the equivalent of finding the perfect man: damn near impossible. Or maybe I'm just too picky about where I want to live, just like I am with men. Haha. Things that make you go hmmmm....

Sometimes I Just Wanna Holler.

2010-07-25T13:41:00.010-04:00

I don't even know where to start. Family drama seems to be a never-ending string of bullshit events that always have a common denominator: me being the one at fault.

My mom went out of town for a week-long school function this past week. Whenever my mom leaves the house for long periods of time, there is always bound to be some foolishness going on, and this time was no exception. Just about everyone in the house has an "Every man (or woman) for him/herself" mentality (myself included). However, I am the only one willing to admit my selfish ways, and I seem to get punished for it. My brother and sister are 19 and 17, respectively. When I was 17, I had started my first job, and had learned how to drive. My sister has never had a job, and seems to have no intentions of getting a job. She also doesn't know how to drive, and seems to have no intentions of learning how. She is content with sitting in her room creating animated characters on her computer. My brother does work and goes to school; however, he seems to think that everyone's work and school schedule is less important than his.

It's difficult to have a conversation with him without hearing: "I don't have time to deal with such-and-such, because I go to school full-time AND I work." I usually just blow his remarks off as the ramblings of an immature nineteen-year-old. Not sure why I'm saying all of this; I suppose just to give a little background on what occurred while my mom was out of town.

My mom is the cook of the house; while she's gone, no one cooks anything. We all basically have to fend for ourselves while she's gone, and I take this as the opportunity to get my fast food on. One day I come home from work and almost immediately, my brother comes in the living room complaining about how hungry he is and how there is no food in the house.I tell him I'm starving too, and debate about whether or not we should order Chinese. I don't feel like going anywhere, so I Google some places that might deliver. I ask if everyone is going to chip in and my brother claims that he doesn't have any money. A few moments later, I say something, I don't remember what, and he says that he can fix himself something to eat or buy something. I remind him that he said he doesn't have any money, and he snidely replies, "I don't have to tell you if I have money or not." Then he storms out of the living room. At this point, I say fuck him and go into my sister's room and tell her I'm going to order Chinese so I can find out what she wants. She has her iTunes turned up to the highest volume possible. I ask if she can turn it down for a second. "I can hear you," she says. Okay. Since listening to her music is obviously more important than eating, I leave her be and go get my food. When I come home, my brother's truck is gone and he comes in moments after me with Taco Bell for both of them. That's cool. They're both obviously pissed at me, but I don't care. I don't have time for the bullshit; when I'm ready to eat, I'm ready to eat and I'm not waiting around for someone because they want to listen to a song that they listen to a million times a day.

Fast forward to this weekend. My mom gets home and everything starts off all right. This morning I'm taking a shower, and when I get out I turn the bathroom sink on so I can brush my teeth. My mom walks by the bathroom and asks why I left the water on. I tell her what I was about to do, and she complains that I'm wasting water. It took me maybe 2.5 seconds to get my toothbrush out of the hallway closet and walk back to the bathroom. I'm annoyed that I'm getting chewed out for something so petty, and since I'm horrible at hiding my facial expressions, it shows. As I'm getting dressed downstairs, I hear my mom go into my brother's room and they start talking shit about me. One of the topics of discussion is what happened with the food situation earlier this week. Later my mom comes downstairs to ask me something about the laundry. I'm short with her, and she asks why I'm acting like I don't want to be bothered with anyone. I tell her I heard them talking about me, and I'm not going to smile and pretend like I don't hear it. She says they're not "afraid" of me, and anything they have to say will be said to my face.

She goes back upstairs, then my brother comes downstairs yelling at the top of his lungs that he was going to confront me about the food situation before, but he was just discussing it with my mom first. I try to explain my side of the story, but he is too busy over-talking me to hear anything I say. My mom and my sister come downstairs, and this is when the three of them decide to "go in" on me about how selfish I am, how I jump to conclusions about everything, and how I have been bitter ever since I got back from Atlanta. My mom claims that she and I used to be close, but we've grown apart due to me being "tainted by the world" and forgetting about Jesus. She reminds me that she told me I shouldn't come home back when I was miserable in Atlanta, and tells me that she didn't want me to come back. I tell her I didn't want to come back either. She says my other problem is that I want to come and go without anyone saying anything to me, and that's not going to happen as long as I'm in her house. She then says I should start looking for an apartment.

I'm all for that. Problem is.....I have no fucking money! Currently, I have $65 in my checking account. I went to look at an apartment today and the application fee alone is $40. Plus a $200 deposit, and first month's rent is $490, but they take $250 off for the first month. It's a good deal, but I'm worried that I won't get approved with my credit. And the job I have now only pays $8.50 an hour, which barely covers my current bills. FML.

I feel so alone right now. This whole situation makes me laugh (in a totally sarcastic, want-to-shoot-myself-in-the-face kind of way) because a couple weeks ago I told my mom that I think I need a therapist. After getting a price quote over the phone from a psychologist that charges $140 per session, I decided that won't be happening right now. My mom offered herself as a possible source, since she has her Bachelor's in Psychology. She promised that she would do her best to be "objective." Sure. How the hell am I going to talk about the problems I have with her...with her??? That makes no sense, no matter how objective she tries to be.

Ugh. This is a hot mess, if I do say so myself. I usually have all the answers, but I'm at a loss right now.

Teen Mom.

2010-07-22T23:10:00.002-04:00

I'm not much of a TV watcher. As I'm sure most of you would agree, there isn't much substance on TV today. I used to be a reality TV junkie, but even that has gotten old...although I still love me some "Bad Girls Club." Anyway, sometimes I get sucked into watching some poorly scripted "reality" show that makes me lose just a little bit more faith in humanity, and today was no exception.

After watching the corny acting on "Parental Control," I tuned in to MTV's "Teen Mom." As a side note, I know this is old, but am I the only one still a bit jaded over the fact that MTV plays close to zero music videos nowadays? I feel like they could at least have the decency to change the network name to "Fake Reality Television" or something. But I digress. So I'm watching this show, and these girls are so simple-minded they make me want to get MY tubes tied. Listening to them speak and interact with their parents, boyfriends, and children is so painful. One girl sent a text to her baby's father to ask if he would start paying child support. *Hangs head in disbelief*

I'm all for texting and using technology as a resource and what not, but wouldn't the issue of financial support for your child require a face-to-face interaction? This is yet another time where I feel like I might as well be using a cane because I feel so old for thinking these young whipper-snappers just don't have any sense.

My main issue with the girls on the show is that they seem to have had no concept of what having a baby would be like. It's as if they didn't even know where babies came from until they were in labor. Every girl starts the show off with the monologue that was obviously provided by an MTV producer and does her required mono-syllabic Teleprompter reading: "I had no idea how hard it would be to take care of a child. Being a mom at my age is hard."

No shit Sherlock! I'm sorry that you took naps during Sex Ed, or that your parents never told you about the birds and the bees, but having a baby should be a crash course in parenthood. Little Billy is here now, and there's not a whole lot you can do about it. Gasping at the cost of diapers and baby food is irrelevant at this point. I don't look down on people who had kids as a teenager, but my beef is with the ones who play the victim when they get pregnant. Unless your boyfriend slipped and fell into your vagina one day, I can't feel any sympathy for you. Life may be harder for you now, but not because of something that you had no control over. What's really sad is when people don't learn their lesson the first time. One of the girls thinks she may be pregnant again.

Sigh.

I Feel All Loved and Shit.

2010-07-19T19:33:00.004-04:00

So......Dabossbitch tagged me with the "Versatile Blogger Award" and I'm supposed to list 7 random facts about myself, then tag 7 other bloggers (I think?). Anyway, here goes:

1. I hate insects. Spiders, ants, roaches, flies, mosquitoes, you name it, I hate it. Just typing those words made me itch. *Shudders*

2. I think I "talk" more in my blog posts than I do in a whole week in real life.

3. People have told me that I remind them of the cartoon character Daria. I still haven't figured out if that's a good or bad thing.

4. I once used to kick it all the time with a girl who looks and acts almost exactly the same as Natalie Nunn from "The Bad Girls Club." Needless to say, we're no longer friends.

5. I have an impeccable memory. I can remember conversations, places, and people from years and years ago. It's a good thing, but it can also be bad, because a good memory also means that I hold grudges like no one's business.

6. My favorite color is pink. Can't you tell? :)

7. I used to have Facebook and Myspace, but I deleted them after I left Atlanta because I was tired of only getting notifications from comments on other people's photos and spam. I've contemplated signing up on Twitter, but I'm still on the fence about it.

Here are my tag-ees:

NC17
Alee (even though she already got tagged lol)
Freckles
Taboo
Latoya

Umm.....well it's not 7, but I'm lazy so.......yeah.

Dress Code.

2010-07-19T17:08:00.000-04:00

You know it's a sad day when "business casual" at the office looks more like "hoodrat mall chic." I might sound like a "hater," but I don't care. Miniskirts with leggings = no-no. This is my rant for the day. I'll blame it on the PMS.

Double Standards.

2010-07-18T14:57:00.006-04:00

Last week, my stepdad's cousin passed away. The funeral was this past Thursday, and I couldn't attend because I was at work. I thought I would be free from having to visit with the family, but no such luck. When I got home, my mom informed me that my aunts and cousins wanted to see "the kids" (me and my siblings). My brother was feeling ill, but my sister and I were forced to go.

After walking inside my great-aunt's apartment and saying our hellos, we sat on the sofa and this is when the buffoonery began. A cousin of ours who is probably around our parents' age (and whom I had never met until that day), randomly decided to start an inebriated rant about kids these days and how they have too much access to sexual content online and on TV. He went on and on about how "all you see these days on TV is titties," and how MySpace and Facebook are the devil.

He then targeted me and my sister as the audience for his speech, and told us to stay lady-like and not let these boys fool us into doing anything silly. He spoke of his fifteen-year-old daughter and how he has to keep his shotgun handy when she introduces him to a new boyfriend. According to our cousin, girls need to keep up their standards, and focus on getting an education and pursuing a successful career, rather than focusing on boys. I patiently waited for him to contradict himself, and he didn't disappoint. Only moments later, he said, "Now if my son got 10 or 15 girls he messing with, I'ma say, 'That's my boy!' Until they get pregnant......then you on your own."

*Blank stare*

I really get tired of older folks acting like online social networking and hip-hop music is the root of all evil. If I'm not mistaken, teenage girls got knocked up back in the day too. Maybe not as frequently as they do today, but it still happened. Sexual innuendos were also made in music of decades past, but no one blamed Rick James or Barry White for the shortcomings of their generation. I personally don't feel that the media should be pointed to as the sole cause of why today's wayward youth are so......wayward.

In my opinion, the biggest reason most kids are so messed up is because of ignorant people like my cousin, who don't even know they're ignorant. He's not the first man to bring up that bullshit double standard of "girls have to keep themselves pure, but boys can fuck whomever they want," and I'm sure he won't be the last. This way of thinking seems to be embedded into society's psyche. Guys think nothing of having a serious girlfriend, while "talking" to numerous other females. I heard a co-worker the other day openly discussing how he tells girls that he doesn't mind "kicking it" with them, but he already has a girlfriend that he doesn't plan on breaking up with. I'm willing to bet all my gas money that none of those girls had a problem with simply "kicking it" with him either.

Which brings me to my next point. If you really stop and think about it, the double standard for men and women doesn't even make sense. In the case of my cousin, where is his son going to get these 10 or 15 girls if all the girls in the world were to keep themselves lady-like? It's impossible. Somebody's going to have to lower their standards in order for the boys to get their pimping on. I think most people just hope that it's another parents' daughter and not theirs.

I know, I know. "It might be wrong, but that's just the way it is." That's not good enough for me. Slavery was "just the way it was" at one point in time too; if everyone had just accepted that way of thinking, we'd still be toiling away in corn fields, correct? I will never understand how people can rationalize that a boy can stick his d*ck in everything that's not moving, but a girl better keep her legs closed for as long as possible. What will the reward be for the girl then? To grow up and marry that same boy, so she can constantly be confronted by all the other girls that he "kicked it" with back in the day? To be compared to all the "freaks" her man has been with, and made to feel that she's doing something wrong because she hasn't had the same experience?

I hate to sound pessimistic, but I feel like there is no solution to this problem. People like my cousin will pass their way of thinking down to my generation, who will pass it on to their kids, and so on and so on. This is reason #546,280 that I'm not sure if I want to have kids, because I would hate to subject them to the ass-backwards standards that the world has.

What to Splurge On?

2010-07-17T21:32:00.002-04:00

I got MONEY! Not really, but more than what I usually have. I am going to save some (don't wanna be a hypocrite lol), but it's been a long minute since I spent money on anything for myself that wasn't bill-related. A few things I'm thinking of:

*A new handbag. My mom told me the other day that my pink Victoria's Secret tote is "ugly." The nerve! Anyway, I have been carrying that thing around forever, so maybe it's time to give it a rest.

*A new pair of shoes. I am a shoe whore--at least I was until the recession hit. My shoe fetish had to take a backseat to more important things, like food, but it would be nice to cop a pair of sexy heels for old times' sake.

*The Boondocks Season 1 & 2 DVDs. Ever since I watched the Tyler Perry episode, I've been hooked. That show is hilarious.

*Manicure, pedicure, eyebrows, hair. I feel ashamed for neglecting all of these things for so long.

There Goes My Baby..........

2010-07-17T21:07:00.003-04:00

........Well, it's not gone yet, but I am considering getting rid of my Blackberry. Not because I don't love it, but I haven't been using it nearly as much as I feel like I should be. When I got my first one last year, I was getting texts and e-mails all day, every day. Then I lost that one, and I had to use my sister's archaic cell phone with the little antenna until I had enough money to get a new one.

Since I've had the new one, there hasn't been nearly as much activity on my phone. That could have something to do with the fact that I cut off contact with just about everyone I knew in Atlanta and my hometown, and my social life is now non-existent (hence the blog posting on a Saturday). I've never been one to "front" or put on as if I'm more important than I really am, so I'm wondering what the point of having a Blackberry is if I only use it to web-surf and check my Blogger profile while I'm bored at work.

The only thing is, I don't know what kind of phone I should get if I do decide to get rid of it. The only reason I even signed up with Verizon in the first place is because I wanted the Blackberry. All of the other Verizon phones are ugly to me. You can call me superficial if you want, but I like pretty phones. Maybe I should just go all the way retro and give up on cell phones completely. It would save me a good 70 bucks a month.

Am I The Only One NOT Surprised?

2010-07-15T22:20:00.004-04:00

For the past few days, the entertainment world has been abuzz with news of The Dream and Christina Milian's separation--which was only revealed by The Dream after scandalous pictures of he and another woman began circulating on the Internet. Of course, everyone went in on just about everything possible: the less-than-appealing body shapes of The Dream and his mistress, the fact that he and Christina have a newborn baby, the fact that their marriage is less than a year old, etc.

This is the latest in what seems to be a never-ending parade of failed celebrity marriages, and for some reason, people have taken this as the opportunity to speculate on why relationships in the Black community are seemingly getting worse every day. I heard a discussion on the Rickey Smiley Morning show that used the recent situation with C. Milli and The Dream to ask listeners if there are any Black couples that are still together. Other celebrities have even given their reactions about it.

Here's my issue with this whole The Dream/Christina Milian fiasco: When did they become the example of a solid Black marriage? As I said earlier, they haven't even been married for a year. They're B-list (probably C-list, but I'm trying to be nice here) R&B artists. Folks are acting like Michelle and Barack just announced their separation. I'd probably even feel some kind of way if I heard of Jada and Will Smith breaking up. But The Dream? Who is he? Yeah, he's produced a few hits, but really, who is he? Christina Milian? Yes, she's pretty, but like Cassie, being pretty won't get you a meaningful singing career.

I don't know; something about their relationship has been weird from the start to me. Up until last year, I barely ever saw any photos of The Dream. Then all of a sudden, he and Christina are popping up everywhere in Hollywood, and the paparazzi always just so happen to be there to catch the two of them together. She has dyed her hair platinum blonde, and appears to be trying to establish herself as a fashion maven. I always thought of them as the bootleg version of Kanye and Amber Rose. Anyway. They claim that they are "just friends," then bam! They're getting married. Then bam! They're having a baby. Then.....Christina has the baby, dyes her hair dark again, and ditches all the haute couture. All those "candid" paparazzi shots become non-existent, and she is rarely ever seen with her hubby. Meanwhile, The Dream is being interviewed left and right, and everyone wants to know about his wife and new baby. He gives vague, half-ass answers as if he is being questioned about people that he's never met, and is also seen spending quality time with different women at clubs.

Now this. I feel like it was bound to happen sooner or later. Some have accused Christina of "fucking for tracks." I'm not sure how true that is, especially since she never even attempted to release a single when she was living it up with The Dream last year. Others think the marriage, baby, etc. were all a cover-up because The Dream is gay. Hmmm.....I really can't rule that one out.

Another possibility is that The Dream is just a big attention whore. I noticed how he appeared to be staring straight at the camera when he was "caught" frolicking on the beach with his side piece. Who does that? Especially if they are trying to keep their separation on the low? This, paired with his disrespectful Aaliyah cover, egotistic interviews, public diva fits, and lackluster radio singles, is all the more reason that The Dream gets a perpetual "Prince Side Eye" from me. No matter how I look at it, he is most certainly NOT someone that I look to as an example of how to have a successful Black marriage.

Trapped.

2010-07-10T17:14:00.000-04:00

I want my own place. Period. I don't know where, I don't know how, but I have to have my own space. Staying with Mom and Dad is just not acceptable anymore. Just last week there was an altercation with my stepdad because he was pissed that I "move his papers" out of the way whenever I put my laptop at his desk. Never mind that I can count on one hand how many times I have seen him use that desk since I have been back home for the past two months.

Now I have no desire to speak to him at all. We never talk anyway, but I don't even want to see his face, hear his voice, anything. My mom says he was wrong for jumping on me about something so trivial, yet I am still being scolded for not respecting and "honoring" him. She told me today that she thinks I take out my frustrations with my biological father on my stepdad. I want to tell her, "No Mom, I just really don't like him." He reminds me a lot of my ex-roommate. They can go for days without speaking to you, but the moment you impose on "their stuff," they turn into raging psychopaths. I don't have time for that shit. The economy is still fucked up. There's an oil spill to think about. Conditions are still not up to par in Haiti. In other words, there's a lot more to get angry about in the world besides some damn papers.

So now I feel like I have to walk on eggshells so he won't blow up about something stupid again. This seems to be the reoccuring theme no matter where I live. All because this is "his house" and he pays the bills. God please don't let me be like that when (and if) I have kids. I've had thoughts that if my mom were the first to pass away, I would never have any reason to speak to him again. That's sad. But it's how I feel. Can't tell Mom that. She would have a fit. She wants us to get along, but we never have, and since we're both stubborn as hell, we probably never will.

Priorities.

2010-07-09T23:19:00.005-04:00

I will be the first to admit that I have had my fair share of splurging when I should have been saving. I got my first job when I was 17 and even though I was making minimum wage working four days a week, I thought I was balling. At the time, I was obsessed with Bebe and Juicy Couture, and that's what all of my paychecks went towards. Those were the days. Then of course, I thought it would be cool to get a couple credit cards, you know, just to buy a little something when my paychecks weren't fat enough. Fast forward to now, and I want to go back in time and pimp slap my 17-year-old self for being so frivolous with money.

Having said that, I've been really irked for the past week or so by seeing and hearing black women discuss their spending habits. I know black women aren't the only ones who go "tear up the mall," but I can't really speak for any other race or gender on this topic. Maybe it's just me, but for some reason chicks who are always crying about being "broke" are the same ones toting around Louis Vuitton bags and spending money to get ready for the club every weekend. Being the "baddest" chick in the room seems to have taken precedence over opening a savings account. "Stuntin' on hoes" is preferred over "stuntin'" on that past due rent.

I know a girl that has complained numerous times about the fact that she doesn't have A/C in her car (and anyone who has experienced the St. Louis humidity knows what a problem that is), yet she always comes to work with a fresh weave, false eyelashes, pedicure, etc. Yeah she looks cute, but I find it hard to respect someone who chooses the instant gratification of a new hairstyle over the long-term gratification of ensuring that that weave doesn't get "sweated out" because she's driving around in a hot-ass car. Another boasted about how her whole check was going to be spent at the mall, then told her sob story a few days later that she only had $13 to her name until the next paycheck. I can't wrap my mind around it. I know we all get excited over the idea of having money in our pockets, but once you hit your mid-20s, shouldn't there be some thought about planning for the future? How are you ever going to fix that raggedy car, or move out on your own, if you can't even put $20 aside each week when you get paid?

I probably sound like an old woman chastising these young'ns about how they spend their money, but it's actually sad to me. Finances seem to be one of the many issues that black women struggle with. Every time I look around, there are studies on how black women are the biggest consumers of clothing, makeup, and other luxury items, but the consumerism seems to be taking a hit on other financial areas of our lives, like debt and having little to no savings. As much as black people (and black women in particular) annoy me, I want to see us doing well, and having the ability to finance all the curve balls that life throws, is a part of doing well. When and if I have kids, they're going to have a savings account whether they like it or not.

I love shopping just as much as the next girl. Getting a pedicure is one of my favorite things to do, but until I get these bills under control, all that "balling" I did back in the day will have to wait.

P.S. I wanted to post a pic, but my computer is giving me issues and I'm sleepy as hell. I'll add one tomorrow.

This Ain't No Beef Man.

2010-07-06T23:03:00.005-04:00

I'm neglecting this blog something terrible right now. I want to write, but there just aren't enough hours in a day, and I can (almost) never write a short post. If I could get paid for blogging, I think I could die a happy woman. But that takes time, effort, and patience, and I have little of any of those. One day, one day.

I know the photo above may seem random as hell, but it always manages to give me a laugh, which I really need right now. It also serves as a reminder for a future post that I want to write. Niggas stay beefing on some petty shit, and yet always seem to pinpoint someone else as the reason why they're getting bent out of shape. Okay, I said I wouldn't go there right now. Off to bed I go.

*Edited to add: For old time's sake, here's the video.

Peer Pressure.

2010-07-02T20:37:00.009-04:00

First things first. Today is PAYDAY! It's definitely a nice reward because the past three weeks of waking up at 5am every day have been killing me. One of the guys in my class didn't get his paycheck today for some reason. How fucked up is that? I'm just glad it was him and not one of the hoodrats, because y'all already know they would have acted a straight FOOL if their money wasn't there today.

However, there always seems to be some petty drama that comes about. Last Friday, Hoodrat #1 found out that another training class had voted to leave work at 2pm instead of their usual time of 3pm. She pleaded with our trainer to let us leave early as well, but the trainer told her that we would only be allowed to leave if everyone unanimously voted for it. If even one person wanted to stay until 3, everyone had to stay. There were a few people who said that they wanted their hours and voted to stay for our whole shift. Over the next week or so, I overheard the Hoodrat Twins saying things like, "Okay, we had to stay til 3 last Friday, but on payday we all gon' vote to leave at 2, 'cuz I'ma be ready to cash my check!"

Now let me say this before I go on. I hate working just as much as the next person, but I love money. My love for money is probably unhealthy, but I love it just the same, and I have no problem with working for it. I also need the money. If I had things my way, I most definitely wouldn't be getting up at the crack of dawn every day to go work at a damn call center. With that being said, as much as I loathe this new job, I'm doing what I have to do to pay my (endless) bills. I've accepted the fact that a million dollars is not going to fall from the sky anytime soon, so until it does, I have to work. Leaving work early and not getting paid for it is not going to help my situation.

So the time comes where everyone in class has to vote to stay or leave early. Our options are to leave at 2:00, 2:30, or 3:00. If anyone wants to leave early, it's me. I'm exhausted and burned out from a week of hoodratted-ness, sleep deprivation, and boredom. I'm ready to get started on my three-day weekend (even though I don't have shit to do), and forget that these people exist for that short period of time. As everyone is voting though, of course the Hoodrat Twins are cutting up in the back of the room. "Vote for 2:00, people!" "Remember we talked about this all week, y'all know what to do!" "I got shit to do, I'm trying to get up outta here!" "My credit union closes at 3, I gotta get this money!"

There must be some sort of switch in my brain that instinctively allows me to do the complete OPPOSITE of whatever someone tells me I HAVE to do. My thought process is that I could honestly give a damn what time your credit union closes, or what plans you made when you know that you work until 3pm. Just because you are loud and obnoxious, and have intimidated everyone else in our class to do what you say, doesn't mean I will. So I vote to stay until 2:30. When our trainer announces what time we will be leaving, all hell breaks loose. The hoodrats ask around the whole room to find out who voted to stay until 2:30, as if they're trying to find the person that stole their paycheck. After a process of elimination, Hoodrat #1 looks at me and exclaims, "You voted for 2:30, didn't you!?" I look at her and simply reply, "It's called SILENT voting for a reason."

Of course, hoodrats don't understand the dynamics of voting, so they continue to proclaim me as the awful person who wants to stay at work for an extra half hour. As time goes by, I hear comments made that whomever voted to stay until 2:30 is "ignorant" and "trying to be uppity on a Friday," whatever the hell that means. I can't believe these chicks are really getting heated over having to leave work half an hour later, although it is technically half an hour EARLIER than our regularly scheduled time. I'm beginning to feel a bit uneasy. I've overheard the hoodrats swapping stories about getting into fights over bullshit, and I'm not in the mood to get jumped after work. It's really not that deep. I'm not necessarily afraid of them, but I'm not stupid. I don't want to be the latest example of "When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong." I've seen enough episodes of Jerry Springer to know that I should choose my battles wisely. This situation has made me all the more anxious to get the fuck out of this hell hole, and I admit to my trainer that I was the 2:30 voter, and ask if we can leave at 2:00 instead. She is waiting on someone in our class to finish an assessment, so she says she'll let me know.

I come back from the bathroom later, and the trainer writes on the board that we have to vote again whether to leave at 2:15 or 2:30. I quickly write 2:15 on a piece of paper and hand it in, while the hoodrats plead again for everyone to vote for the earlier time. It's a unanimous vote this time, and I hightail it out of there at 2:15 on the dot.

This is a prime example of why I hate "team" shit. I'm a firm believer in people being free to choose what they want to do without being bullied for it. At my last job, there was none of this group voting bullshit. My supervisor simply asked everyone around the office if they wanted to stay at work later; the people that wanted overtime stayed, and the people that didn't went home. Simple. Now I'm getting half the pay and twice the drama over some pseudo-democracy that is really based on who can give the most attitude when they don't get their way.

Why I Am Single.

2010-07-02T19:58:00.003-04:00

Miss Jia posted a discussion topic on her blog yesterday asking her readers to speak out on potential reasons for their single-hood. Some of the answers were pretty deep, and more than a few mirrored my own thoughts and feelings about my personal life. There seemed to be a common factor of people fearing rejection and often second-guessing themselves so much that they are usually afraid to pursue a relationship. It's not very often that I hear people admit to having those issues (although I suppose it's easier to admit your flaws in cyberspace than in reality). I commented on the post, and I know this might sound super conceited, but I thought what I had to say was pretty good and somewhat therapeutic, so I'll re-post my comment here:

First, I am picky. As hell. I can get turned off by the simplest thing that a guy does, like if he sends too many text messages or spells "you're" as "your." I'm not looking for perfection, but I must admit that my standards are pretty damn high. I won't even stop walking if a dude hollers to me out on the street because I think that's just rude. Sue me.

I'm very reserved and to myself. I think that may turn guys off, especially since I'm starting to realize that men are more sensitive than women. They need that "go-ahead" to approach, like a smile or eye contact, and I never do any of that. I'm not as confident as I would like to be, but I'm very good at faking it, to the point where I think it comes off as being snobby.

I'm living in the year 2010! I was having a discussion with my mother earlier today, and I don't think she realizes that dating isn't the same as it was "back in the day." Her generation didn't have to worry about being measured up against video vixens and Victoria's Secret models, while also being expected to "have their own" and be independent.

Like others have said, I don't feel like I'm where I want to be in my life right now, and I want to be at the same standards that I'm looking for in a guy. I can't expect him to have a degree, house, stable career, and caring nature if I don't. I can still be very selfish and mean sometimes, and I need to straighten that out on my own before I unleash myself on some poor, unsuspecting man.

My Two Cents.

2010-06-28T21:54:00.011-04:00

I've read quite a few blog posts on people's thoughts of this year's BET Awards, and the general consensus seems to be that it was much more dignified than last year's awards show. I didn't watch the awards last year, so I really can't make a comparison, but my review will be based on this year's show itself, as well as the BET awards shows I have watched in years past.

Since I have a reputation for being a "Debbie Downer" or "Negative Nancy," I will start with the positives. First off, Nia Long looked absolutely gorgeous! She's another one to add to the "girl crush" list. How old is she? Eh, it doesn't even matter. I know she's been in the entertainment industry for a minute, and she's still shitting on girls half her age. She and Stacey Dash must be sipping on the same youth serum.

Next: Prince. I did not realize how much I loved Prince until I saw him at the 2010 BET Awards. His facial expressions during his tribute were priceless. Can't say that I blame him though. I love me some Janelle Monae, but for some reason she just wasn't doing it for me in her performance. I'm glad to see that BET gave her some shine; it would have been nice to see her perform her OWN music though. She seemed like she was trying too hard to get Prince's approval. *Shrugs*

Now onto my not-so-favorite parts of the night. One thing I've noticed about BET that seems like it will never change is their ass-backwardness in doing things. Never have I seen a television network that can be so stuffy, yet so tacky at the same time. "Boughetto" is the term, I think. Take for instance, the notorious "ban" that BET put on R&B singer Ciara's video "Ride." No one quite knows the true reason behind why the video has been banned, not even Ciara herself, but basically I think the notion is that her video is too "racy" for daytime (or anytime) viewing. Never mind all those borderline-XXX videos that BET airs on a daily basis. Yet BET invites Ciara to be a presenter, wearing what can best be described as a red leather tube top. I didn't see anything wrong with what she was wearing, but then again I didn't have a problem with her music video either. Perhaps the message is: "You can wear skimpy clothing, as long as you don't ride a mechanical bull while doing so"? Things that make you go hmmm.......

Then there was the almost-kiss between Nia Long and Larenz Tate. Somehow, BET's producers thought that viewers would much rather see Rocsi and Terrence J swap spit. Excuse me while I dry heave. If I could be a sniper for just one day......okay, let me stop. I guess I should give BET kudos for accomplishing the amazing feat of pairing two of the world's most annoying people together, and shoving them in our faces Monday-Friday.

Of course, the highlight of the night was Mr. Breezy himself in the much-anticipated MJ tribute. I have to give him props. The boy can dance his ass off. He also provided me a lifetime of laughter with this photo. HOWEVER, just like everything else, black people always have a way of blowing shit waaaayyyyy out of proportion. If I didn't know any better, I would think CB's performance was the second coming of Christ. Suddenly everyone has a story of how they cried along with him and that they now "officially forgive" him. You mean to tell me that the American public has scrutinized, ridiculed, taunted, and practically crucified Chris Brown for the past year-and-a-half, and all he had to do was moonwalk to get approval from you niggas? If I'm not mistaken, he's done MJ tributes before, but he had to actually perform at an awards show in order for people to realize he's talented? Like nearly every situation involving Chris Brown since the "incident," I don't have a problem with him; I have a problem with the "Team Breezy" stans and bandwagon-hoppers who hype up every single thing that he does, whether good or bad.

Moving on.

Other notables:

For the love of all things good and holy, can BET please get better microphones/sound systems for the performances? I had to turn my TV up to the highest volume and it still sounded like they were whispering.

Did anyone else notice the smedium red sweater T.I. wore during that bit with Queen Latifah? I tried to Google it, but no luck finding any pics.

Why did little Willow (Jada and Will's daughter) look like the latest pre-pubescent androgynous member of the Black Eyed Peas? I understand letting your kids express themselves and all, but come on.

Did I miss the memo that "Dirty Money" has now become "Diddy Dirty Money"? Am I the only one who still doesn't know the name of the girl who is not an ex-Danity Kane member?

Why is Chaka Khan at the awards EVERY DAMN YEAR?

I'm done. Until next year.

Photos courtesy of:

http://toppayingideas.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/chris-brown-bet-awards.jpg
http://ultimate-ciara.com/photos/displayimage.php?album=1114&pos=2
http://www.monstersandcritics.com/music/features/article_1566933.php/In-Pictures-2010-BET-Awards?page=32

Can't Get Enough.

2010-06-24T22:31:00.006-04:00

I was on http://aleesperspective.blogspot.com/ a couple days ago, and the post of the day was girl crushes. I added my list in the comment box, but I can't believe I forgot to mention Ms. Solange. I don't know about anyone else, but in my opinion, she is slowly but surely inching her way into the "bad bitch" category. I mean......that dress......and those shoes......and the 'fro! Looking like a 21st century Christie Love and shit.

I'm seriously about to start doing some research on the proper way to grow out an Afro. Either that or find me a bomb-ass wig.