2009.
Yeah, so I realize I haven't written a thing in over a month but things have gotten busy:
Barack Obama is our president.
Thanksgiving and Christmas...
We are still in a recession so I needed to actually do work at my old job.
I have a new job (YAY!)
I no longer have 3 or more jobs at once.. just one.
So anyway, things are good. I hope to check in with my three readers (Ah growth!) more frequently now. And possibility allow you all to chortle a bit in the workplace. There are several things I plan to blog about in the near future:
Confessions of a Shopaholic
Facebook
Ex-boyfriends and why I am happy they married someone else
Iphone Love
Toodles!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
In-uh-pro-pree-et
Ok first let me say two posts back to back! Yeah for me! ) I still have not figured out how the good folks of the innanet stay employed while blogging, reading and responding all day.) N-T way, the topic for today is appropriate mates. I have created a very basic bucket list for gals like me.
1. Readiness. Run away from any 30+ y.o. dude still hanging out erry other night at a different club, lounge, gathering, etc... This dude is not ready to settle down and play the Ken to your brown Barbie much less settle down and make a lil Skipper (oh shut up, yes I know thats her lil sister but work with me). This dude is the downfall of all IBMs.
2. Gainfully Employed: He does not have to be next in line as the CEO for SAS Institute but shizam Scooby, he gotsa have a decent job with benefits. Your level of bougie-fied scrutinizaton of his long term earning potential is up to you.
3. Single. For the last time people, "I am leaving her, I swear!" are not the words of a single man. Even if he's separated, guess what? HE'S NOT SINGLE! If he dies, his wife gets everything, including the rights to his last name and the aforementioned benefits. Here's a tip ladies: Most single, Black men are Hongry (that is not a typo), lonely and tired of being single. If you feed them, speak with a modicum of interest and are able to be quiet during the game. You my friend can get out of the game too.
1. Readiness. Run away from any 30+ y.o. dude still hanging out erry other night at a different club, lounge, gathering, etc... This dude is not ready to settle down and play the Ken to your brown Barbie much less settle down and make a lil Skipper (oh shut up, yes I know thats her lil sister but work with me). This dude is the downfall of all IBMs.
2. Gainfully Employed: He does not have to be next in line as the CEO for SAS Institute but shizam Scooby, he gotsa have a decent job with benefits. Your level of bougie-fied scrutinizaton of his long term earning potential is up to you.
3. Single. For the last time people, "I am leaving her, I swear!" are not the words of a single man. Even if he's separated, guess what? HE'S NOT SINGLE! If he dies, his wife gets everything, including the rights to his last name and the aforementioned benefits. Here's a tip ladies: Most single, Black men are Hongry (that is not a typo), lonely and tired of being single. If you feed them, speak with a modicum of interest and are able to be quiet during the game. You my friend can get out of the game too.
The Antithesis
My sister mentioned Coolio's new show. Apparently he is looking for his new love interest. The convo went a lil like this:
Sis: I feel a little sad for Coolio
Me: LOL! Coolio is the antithesis of my very being
Sis: I just feel bad for him. He had money and all those opportunities and such. How do you fall off like that?
Me: Easy! See exhibit 1: MC Hammer
Now mind you, we recently had a lengthy convo about my uber-high standards in men. I think they are way reasonable but my sister thinks that I have such stringent dating requirements that there would only be about 13.75 men within a 50 mile radius that would met them. Of course, I wholeheartedly disagree... I just like what I like.
Now, back to Coolio, I don't care of I lost both legs, gained 100 pounds and stayed with a multiude of cold sores on both my top and bottom lips, I would'nt date him. I mean not even if all the batteries in America were quarantined and all other men perished but him. Naw man, hell naw! HE WEARS TINY PLAITS THAT STICK UP OFF HIS HEAD! And furthermore, he cuts holes out of age-inappropritae hats to allow said hair to stick out. Plus he looks like he is in the beginning stages of a mean crack recovery/treatment program.
I say all of this to say, "Can't we find a happy medium people?" he doesn't have to the Barack to my Michelle but he damn sho can't be the Jody to my Yvette either.
Sis: I feel a little sad for Coolio
Me: LOL! Coolio is the antithesis of my very being
Sis: I just feel bad for him. He had money and all those opportunities and such. How do you fall off like that?
Me: Easy! See exhibit 1: MC Hammer
Now mind you, we recently had a lengthy convo about my uber-high standards in men. I think they are way reasonable but my sister thinks that I have such stringent dating requirements that there would only be about 13.75 men within a 50 mile radius that would met them. Of course, I wholeheartedly disagree... I just like what I like.
Now, back to Coolio, I don't care of I lost both legs, gained 100 pounds and stayed with a multiude of cold sores on both my top and bottom lips, I would'nt date him. I mean not even if all the batteries in America were quarantined and all other men perished but him. Naw man, hell naw! HE WEARS TINY PLAITS THAT STICK UP OFF HIS HEAD! And furthermore, he cuts holes out of age-inappropritae hats to allow said hair to stick out. Plus he looks like he is in the beginning stages of a mean crack recovery/treatment program.
I say all of this to say, "Can't we find a happy medium people?" he doesn't have to the Barack to my Michelle but he damn sho can't be the Jody to my Yvette either.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Yes We Did! Post Commentary
OK, so I was nervous all day on Tuesday. I had the bubbleguts and all. I went back and forth about whether I should stay at home (to avoid the massive "social unrest that would likely occur if the home team did'nt win) or go out and be social. I chose the latter and pieced together a festive Election Results ensemble. Actually, I had two different fits but don't hate me, I know it was extra but the evening called for two distinct looks: I am a future Michelle Obama/I'm casually fly with my Obama tee and namebrand jeans.
So I call up my homegirl and we roll out to the Democratic party celebration at this hotel downtown. This was a thinly veiled effort to scout some IBMs (ideal black men) but I went 0 for 1. However, my homegirl rolls up on dude who looks like he could have given Mr. "I-can-tell-you-how-I-feel-about-you-night-and-day" a run for his money back in the day (read 20 years ago). I skate off to the corner cuz I'm just not feeling the brothas up in here. I give her and said old skool dude space but she is really chopping it up with dude so I am patient. Meanwhile, te race appers to be getting close between our boy and McGeezer. I finally have to text her to close the deal so we can ride out to the 2nd location.
We arrive and as soon as we walk in, they announce it. Obama won! I am overcome with unspeakable joy! My people are hugging, screaming and pumping their fists in the air! I almost can't believe it, the moment is so surreal. Then the DJ turns up the music and you know its on! I see Mrs. Moosekiller on the big screen tearing up and I can't help but feel a mixture of relief and downright giddy. I laugh... and shake my bootay.
We hang out until the wee hours. Obama makes his speech and the entire joint is in complete silence. I note that the brothers are hugging the ladies excessively and deduce that Obama may have inadvertently made a lot of Black men winners that night.
So I call up my homegirl and we roll out to the Democratic party celebration at this hotel downtown. This was a thinly veiled effort to scout some IBMs (ideal black men) but I went 0 for 1. However, my homegirl rolls up on dude who looks like he could have given Mr. "I-can-tell-you-how-I-feel-about-you-night-and-day" a run for his money back in the day (read 20 years ago). I skate off to the corner cuz I'm just not feeling the brothas up in here. I give her and said old skool dude space but she is really chopping it up with dude so I am patient. Meanwhile, te race appers to be getting close between our boy and McGeezer. I finally have to text her to close the deal so we can ride out to the 2nd location.
We arrive and as soon as we walk in, they announce it. Obama won! I am overcome with unspeakable joy! My people are hugging, screaming and pumping their fists in the air! I almost can't believe it, the moment is so surreal. Then the DJ turns up the music and you know its on! I see Mrs. Moosekiller on the big screen tearing up and I can't help but feel a mixture of relief and downright giddy. I laugh... and shake my bootay.
We hang out until the wee hours. Obama makes his speech and the entire joint is in complete silence. I note that the brothers are hugging the ladies excessively and deduce that Obama may have inadvertently made a lot of Black men winners that night.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Biggums
This just makes me laugh... I really needed it today....
Reminds of a coworker. I mean she gotta be on that ish! She does things that are clearly indicative of a TV set stealing, dry skin scratching, completely irrational/unicorn spotting crackhead.
I regularly think to myself "What are you smoking, yo?"
I'm so glad, that I am a different person now and I no longer revert to my former hoodtastic, ranting, raving, cuss-you- three-ways-to-Sunday personality! She makes me wanna slap the ish out of her on the reg.
Ever had a coworker that just drives you to drank?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
My neck and my back
Ouch! I have injured my back somehow... Get your mind out of the gutter! I have no idea how I injured it, it literally came outta nowhere Nasty McPervykins. I have iced it, heated it and acetominophened it to death. I even took a day off of work... but to no avail. I am still in considerable pain. So I am making the dreaded visit to the doctor. No, I do not like the doctor at all... they usually cannot give you a conclusive diagnosis but somehow they always want their fee in a conclusive rendering (i.e. cash, check or charge).
I hate the hurry up and wait of it all. I hate the smell (a dose of sickness with high notes of hand sanitizers and band-aids). I hate the lack of good reading literature (you're never gonna find the latest version of InStyle or Essence but they will inevitably have some ratty Good Housekeepings circa 2002). And last but not least, I hate the cacophony of chaps (read: kids) running around unsupervised, coughing, snotting, crying and whining all over the place.
However, after two days of back pain, I am willing to overlook my intense dislike for seeing the doctor in hopes getting temporary relief from this nagging pain until my body can heal itself. Yes, I seek the almighty muscle relaxer yall. Now before you go calling 1-800-Charter, I am simply stating that I already know that Dr. Homeslice will have limited guestimates (read: what you get paid over 100K to do on a daily basis) about my prognosis and will lean to my inifinite understanding. Anyway, we'll do the "Hey-little-angry-black-lady-what-happened-does-it-hurt-here-hmmm-let's see-I-don't-know-oh-well-I-gotta-hurry-up-here's-your-prescription-see-me-if-it-gets-any-worse" 10 minute doctor/patient dance.
So we're off to see the wizard, the wondeful wizard of...
muscle realxers! LOL!
I hate the hurry up and wait of it all. I hate the smell (a dose of sickness with high notes of hand sanitizers and band-aids). I hate the lack of good reading literature (you're never gonna find the latest version of InStyle or Essence but they will inevitably have some ratty Good Housekeepings circa 2002). And last but not least, I hate the cacophony of chaps (read: kids) running around unsupervised, coughing, snotting, crying and whining all over the place.
However, after two days of back pain, I am willing to overlook my intense dislike for seeing the doctor in hopes getting temporary relief from this nagging pain until my body can heal itself. Yes, I seek the almighty muscle relaxer yall. Now before you go calling 1-800-Charter, I am simply stating that I already know that Dr. Homeslice will have limited guestimates (read: what you get paid over 100K to do on a daily basis) about my prognosis and will lean to my inifinite understanding. Anyway, we'll do the "Hey-little-angry-black-lady-what-happened-does-it-hurt-here-hmmm-let's see-I-don't-know-oh-well-I-gotta-hurry-up-here's-your-prescription-see-me-if-it-gets-any-worse" 10 minute doctor/patient dance.
So we're off to see the wizard, the wondeful wizard of...
muscle realxers! LOL!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
You're Fired: TTYN
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Well... we haven't gotten into my dating life as of yet but I think its abundantly obvious that I am single (see the title, you dolt!). Yes: fabulous, accomplished and fly but... still single in spite of all this raging fabulosity. (*Sings " I don;t think ya ready for this jelly..)
Anywho. I've been thinking I am sick of the roster. You know, the roster. It consists of the dudes that can't or won't make the crossover journey to BF. You remain in the gray area when it comes to defining your Somethingship. He's the guy you go to the movies with or calls you up a few times a week to check on you. He sends you lots of text messages peppered with lame-o smiley faces. These are the dudes that comprise the roster. If you could melt them all down like crayons you could make the perfect man. But alas my friends dating is so much more complicated than an elementary school art project.
So I think that I am going to disband the roster and sell off the members of my team (read: stop taking their calls/texts). I think I need to start anew because hey if none of them have crossed over to the motherland then just how beneficial are they anyway?
What sayeth ye?
Anywho. I've been thinking I am sick of the roster. You know, the roster. It consists of the dudes that can't or won't make the crossover journey to BF. You remain in the gray area when it comes to defining your Somethingship. He's the guy you go to the movies with or calls you up a few times a week to check on you. He sends you lots of text messages peppered with lame-o smiley faces. These are the dudes that comprise the roster. If you could melt them all down like crayons you could make the perfect man. But alas my friends dating is so much more complicated than an elementary school art project.
So I think that I am going to disband the roster and sell off the members of my team (read: stop taking their calls/texts). I think I need to start anew because hey if none of them have crossed over to the motherland then just how beneficial are they anyway?
What sayeth ye?
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Making the Band IV Finale
Let me start off my saying I know just how wack I am by watching this and my wackness is compounded by the fact that I am slightly emotionally vested in the Danity Kane drama. I mean you think I would have learned my lesson with the whole "Da Band" fiasco. I assure you those clowns are back in the hood wishing they could walk the bridge just one mo time to get Diddy's cheesecake. I heard Sarah got fat (I'm not hating ma, it happens to the best of us...) and maybe Bugs or whateva the other chick's name was, actually got a record deal (SIKE! Stop playin!)
So there's all this drama leading up to the "confrontation." They basically replay the bulk of the last show and then part two consists of Diddy pulling the remaining 3 girls back into his office and saying the problem was their's to deal with. Finally they bring Day 26 and Donny Klang (And the worst name ever award goes to...) out to tell their perspective. Those fake azz 112 ninjas say a whole bunch of nothing and Justin Timberfake looks pissed to be stuck on a stool in the back.
Then Diddy comes out via satellite and basically stumbles his way through this lame publicity stunt but he gets kudos for the "I heart Michelle" shirt. The (non-fired) girls come out looking all Carl Thomas (read: emotional). So apparently Diddy wasn't faking. The other black girl with the assymetrical joint is still out of DK and was a total no show. She gets props for maintaining some semblance of dignity after PDid played her face. Aubrey came out looking (forgive me Lord) bloated and high as the Empire State building. She rambles incoherently and gets slick with Diddy and he makes that useless waste of an hour of my life slightly entertaining by giving her an oral smackdown. (No not that kind... at least not anymore!)
So.... clearly there will be another Making the Band. The question is NOT will you watch, shoot quite a few of yall probably bought the CDs or at least downloaded "Damaged" off I-tunes (I admit it! That was my stone cold jam!) So somebody other than me is watching this ish. So fess up!
So there's all this drama leading up to the "confrontation." They basically replay the bulk of the last show and then part two consists of Diddy pulling the remaining 3 girls back into his office and saying the problem was their's to deal with. Finally they bring Day 26 and Donny Klang (And the worst name ever award goes to...) out to tell their perspective. Those fake azz 112 ninjas say a whole bunch of nothing and Justin Timberfake looks pissed to be stuck on a stool in the back.
Then Diddy comes out via satellite and basically stumbles his way through this lame publicity stunt but he gets kudos for the "I heart Michelle" shirt. The (non-fired) girls come out looking all Carl Thomas (read: emotional). So apparently Diddy wasn't faking. The other black girl with the assymetrical joint is still out of DK and was a total no show. She gets props for maintaining some semblance of dignity after PDid played her face. Aubrey came out looking (forgive me Lord) bloated and high as the Empire State building. She rambles incoherently and gets slick with Diddy and he makes that useless waste of an hour of my life slightly entertaining by giving her an oral smackdown. (No not that kind... at least not anymore!)
So.... clearly there will be another Making the Band. The question is NOT will you watch, shoot quite a few of yall probably bought the CDs or at least downloaded "Damaged" off I-tunes (I admit it! That was my stone cold jam!) So somebody other than me is watching this ish. So fess up!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Bad Karma
Word life son... I must have really upset someone in my recent past. This weekend sucked monkey bizzalls. First my left brake light went out, then my right parking light. Admittedly the brake light had been out for about 3 weeks now but I digress...
OK, seriously, what do you want from me people? We're in a recession man!
So anyway, on Saturday night I was getting into my car and noticed that somehow my middle brake light was knocked out. I mean there was no red plastic cover or anything and the light was dangingly precariously inside the little hole.
Talked out p-ed off to the height of p-tivity? Man I could have Mike Tysoned somebody.
So I took it to get it fixed and say it with me people: 3 hundred and 50 muhfreakin dollars!!!! Did I mention that we are in a RECESSION?????
So getting to the topic of the post, I am must have done something awfully horrible to someone. Hey you, yeah you that I have so horribly wronged. I'm sorry Charlie Murphy! I'm sorry please take your backwoods, Creole voodoo off of me now. Mybad home skillet, my bad.
Next week's gotta be better or I'm packing my ish and googling "convents" on the Eastern seaboard.
OK, seriously, what do you want from me people? We're in a recession man!
So anyway, on Saturday night I was getting into my car and noticed that somehow my middle brake light was knocked out. I mean there was no red plastic cover or anything and the light was dangingly precariously inside the little hole.
Talked out p-ed off to the height of p-tivity? Man I could have Mike Tysoned somebody.
So I took it to get it fixed and say it with me people: 3 hundred and 50 muhfreakin dollars!!!! Did I mention that we are in a RECESSION?????
So getting to the topic of the post, I am must have done something awfully horrible to someone. Hey you, yeah you that I have so horribly wronged. I'm sorry Charlie Murphy! I'm sorry please take your backwoods, Creole voodoo off of me now. Mybad home skillet, my bad.
Next week's gotta be better or I'm packing my ish and googling "convents" on the Eastern seaboard.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
BAN
As this is a family friendly blog, let me be delicate in how I describe this acronym... Hmmm, first word is a not-nice word, second word is a not nice word but lessser than the first and the last, lets say "ninja." (its a soothing alternative to other undesirable option... sorta like Spenda vs. Nutrasweet)A sweet friend of mine recently was exposed to an extreme case of this. She met said negro and they started dating. He told her he was separated. Long story short.. homeboy wasn't.
My questions is why? In the words of my Southern grandmother "what fa?" (translation: what for?) Why not man up and just say hey I'm a big fat married liar and I want you to unwillingly commit adultery with me. Yeah, I am NOT happy. I mean things are hard enough with the whole single, black, educated female ratio situation without folks getting greedy. If you have one at home stick with her and ride that thang till the wheels fall off.
My questions is why? In the words of my Southern grandmother "what fa?" (translation: what for?) Why not man up and just say hey I'm a big fat married liar and I want you to unwillingly commit adultery with me. Yeah, I am NOT happy. I mean things are hard enough with the whole single, black, educated female ratio situation without folks getting greedy. If you have one at home stick with her and ride that thang till the wheels fall off.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Yo!!!!!
I have officially reverted... I decided I can't keep up with the all the new fangled kiddie slang. "Yule... " and all that mess. I have slowly found myself reverting to my old skool 80s slang. I find myself beginning and ending my sentences with "yo." And no, I don't don't mean the cute, greeting usage of "yo" i mean the Wesley Snipes in White Men Can'T Jump"/Nino Brown in New Jack City type "Yooooooooooo!"
I have started ending my phone calls with "Alright, Peace out homie!" Yes, I'm serious. No really, I'm not joking. Why you ask? I have no logical reason. Actually it had to have been a completely unconscious decision, there's absolutely nothing cute about it. And yes, I have noticed that the menfolk are usually a little disturbed by it. (it's a bit of a stark contrast to my normally BAPesque persona). I should probably stop it but I can't seem to help myself at this point.
What say ye? Have you found yourself reverting to old skool slang for no apparent reason?
Oh... OK... I guess it's just me.
I have started ending my phone calls with "Alright, Peace out homie!" Yes, I'm serious. No really, I'm not joking. Why you ask? I have no logical reason. Actually it had to have been a completely unconscious decision, there's absolutely nothing cute about it. And yes, I have noticed that the menfolk are usually a little disturbed by it. (it's a bit of a stark contrast to my normally BAPesque persona). I should probably stop it but I can't seem to help myself at this point.
What say ye? Have you found yourself reverting to old skool slang for no apparent reason?
Oh... OK... I guess it's just me.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Run DNC
So its one month later and here I am... speechless. Or at least I have been for the past month. Well forgive me loyal readers (all two of you!) I will do better. I am watching Barack pumping up Biden at theDNC. It was cute in the most non-homoerotic way possible. Trust me I think Obama has some great ideas and (spoiler alert) I plan to vote for him but somehow he also strikes me a super HAWT! yeah I said that about the future president of the United States. I hope I can't get arrested for that....
On Monday night Michelle blew me away. She is gorgeous, loved the dress. The color was perfect against her skin. Me thinks I am developing a girl-crush. All jokes aside, she represents all that I hope for in my future: smarter than the average bear husband, 2 adorable kids, successful career, etc... A girl can dream.
On Monday night Michelle blew me away. She is gorgeous, loved the dress. The color was perfect against her skin. Me thinks I am developing a girl-crush. All jokes aside, she represents all that I hope for in my future: smarter than the average bear husband, 2 adorable kids, successful career, etc... A girl can dream.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Getting Started
This all started because people keep saying I should write this stuff down... But now that I actually have a blog I am thinking... are people actually gonna read this. Should I censor myself or give a disclaimer? And why am I obsessing about what I write if any reader can just click to another page and read something else if they don't like it or are offended by it?
Nevermind the fact that I don't even have a "readership" yet...
And we're off...
Nevermind the fact that I don't even have a "readership" yet...
And we're off...
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