Do I Want To Talk About

I suppose my hiatus is over. It’s hard to blog sometimes. Events happen quickly. And by time I think to write about it – I’m not feeling it anymore.

Do I want to talk about Floridian Cannibals? No thanks. Makes me lose my appetite.

Do I want to talk about the NBA playoffs? I only want the Miami Heat to lose. Otherwise, I’m not interested.

Do I want to talk about the President? I would, I could, but we’ll see after November 2012. I usually get asked by a relative, “Is he really such an idiot?” I’ve been reluctant to answer, but lately … I’m hard pressed, you know? If you are a fan of the President, don’t be offended. It’s just that if he was working at a private corporation, he’d have been fired by now. You try saying it’s the last guy / gal who held your title / position is the reason for your sub-par performance.

Yeah, that’ll work.

Do I want to talk about EU and the imploding Greek, Spanish, and Italian economies? Nope. Really don’t care. I suspect if the President was a Republican they could comfortably blame America for their wonderful mess, but they can’t say jack. I hope they aren’t hoping for any bailouts from the USA,  ’cause we’s broke, ya’ll.

Do I want to talk about our wonderful, thriving economy? Nope. ‘Cause the President says, “The private sector is doing fine.” Still smoking that stuff, sir? #doingfine #Choom

Do I want to talk about black men who are face chewing, stalking, cheating, murderous, promiscuous, insane, damaged beyond repair nutjobs? Not for a very very very long time. I think I’ve OD on the subject. What more is there to say? Stay the hell away from ’em. If you can, leave Blackistan. Nuff said.

Do I want to talk about travel? I’ve got Singapore on the brain. So far away. Lovely steady temperature. And expensive as all out. I’m due for a treat. Aiming for next year. If I go, it’ll be the first flight since the airports put in the Rape-I-Scanners. #fingerscrossed

Do I want to talk about dating and mating with non-black men? It’s academic, natural and simple. If you are a heterosexual woman, there are attractive men out there you can bond with regardless of hue. Wanting and needing is normal and acceptable: You want a man. You need a man. There’s no shame in that desire. Just relax. Go easy on yourself. And keep looking.

Do I want to talk about obesity? Naw, why should I? Aren’t fat black women helpless bullied victims?  It is obviously everybody’s fault some of them are such a hot mess. Shoot. Where I work there is this obese, short, extremely unattractive black woman – her stomach rests on the chair seat – she needs to lean back to stand – she cannot see her feet if she looked down – she waddles in a circle when she walks – she’s a malodorous cloud of sweat, stink perfume and sulfur – she’s always bringing in fattening foods to offer to others (and she’s always on a diet) – she offers advice no one wants to hear – she’s the office “Mammy”.

And I live rent free in her little head.

Guess whose BODY she studies? Guess whose HEALTH she wants to fret about? Guess whose CLOTHING she’s obsessed with? Guess whose phone calls she listens in on? Guess who she wont leave the goddamn hell alone – day in and day out? I don’t talk to this person. I don’t acknowledge her. I’ve never mentioned anything about her looks, but people like her – it has to be she’s been dropped on her shrunken head one time too many as a child. I also get my share of nasty lip curls and looks of hatred from two other obese black women at work, but hey, it must be because I’m the reason they cannot put their forks down. Must be my fault. What do I get from everybody else who’s short, tall, dark, light or small? Normalcy. We say, “Hello”, and keep it moving.

It’s not the first time I’ve encountered this kind of crazy from these poor, innocent, polite, delicate, sweet-natured big boned girls. I don’t usually mention it, because I often put it out of mind. And I’m not even close to slender, I consider myself medium-size. (I used to be heavier. I know what it’s like.)

But black women, some of you really, really need therapy. You require years of counseling. Do not be ashamed of seeking professional help with your issues.

‘Cause I’m gonna tell you right now, other black women – who are minding their own damn business, working to stay healthy, and living their life – aren’t in your way. And no amount of hectoring, harassing, bitching, critiquing or beseeching is gonna turn us into the office “Beulah” laboring beside you.

So, you go on ahead, continue to commit suicide by fork. ‘Cause you are on that plantation all by your lonesome.

Do I want to talk about Scandal? Really enjoyed the show. It’s meant to be funny, right? ‘Cause I couldn’t stop laughing. Best new comedy on TV.

Do I want to talk about the movies? Nope. Haven’t seen any of those “blockbusters”. Nothing interests me. Not even Prometheus. Only because anything to do with Alien(s) gives me nightmares. Yeah, I’m a big child.

Do I want to talk about anything else? Perhaps. We’ll see. I promise myself I’d blog more. We’ll see.

Hope everyone is doing fine and fulfilling their dreams. 🙂

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Black Woman: Would You Marry a Blue Collar White Man?

The Question

Asked of me by C.B.:

If you are educated, would you or have you married a blue collar wm? Many folks are quick to suggest bw take or accept a lower level bm on the academic and economic label. Why is this a problem if a bw marries a wm on a lower scale. (I do know a lady who married a produce manager wm, and she is a phd level. They just had a second baby.)

The Answer

The following is from my personal perspective. It is not intended as follow-what-I’m-doing advice (which is never my intention on this blog), but it’s an example of how I think. Your own dating and marrying philosophy may differ. 🙂

Education

About me: I like to joke that I am over-educated. It doesn’t mean I know everything, but I am excessively curious about a lot of things, and I always need to know more. Since I was eight, I loved reading encyclopedias and dictionaries. Today, I enjoy scanning the internet(s) for obscure information.

I used to want to be a fireman, police officer, and an artist. Then I wanted to be an astronaut, research scientist of weird diseases, writer, and a lawyer. My interests continued to change, but my desire for information and knowledge did not.

I graduated from high school, wishing I left a few years early, then proceeded to obtain an Associate’s Degree, Bachelor’s Degree and finally a Master’s Degree. It took a lot of years of hustling to achieve these diplomas. I often worked while attending school, and for the advanced degree, my employer(s) paid for the education.

Do the diplomas make me happy? They were not attained for personal happiness. The purpose of my education is for personal self-fulfillment and is a necessary tool, among others, in working as a “professional” in a white collar corporate environment or pursuing self-employment. For the time being, I am done with obtaining another degree, but I will go  for additional certifications and a license or two.

Blue Collar vs White Collar Men

Not all men favor extensive schooling, and they are able to work at not just good, but great blue collar jobs, without a need for a high school diploma or college education. They even make more than anyone in a white collar profession would earn in their lifetime.

I’ve known a variety of men. My Mom likes to tell people I date the United Nations. Some of the men didn’t finish college. Some of them were self-taught in order to work in their office profession.

The odds are always low that I would encounter an available blue collar white man, based on my social circles, work environment and personal interests. In addition to that, based on observation, blue collar men marry earlier than white collar men. They start working right after, or even during, high school right into a stable well paying position, with excellent long term benefits. Whereas the potential white collar worker will spend the next 4-8 plus years studying and putting his life on hold.

Final Answer

I don’t believe I would ever find myself marrying a blue collar white man, because I don’t think we would be a good fit. It is not easy to meet men who like women with a college education or advanced degrees. I don’t care what his race is. I don’t volunteer my educational background unless asked, but once they find out they’ll lose that “loving feeling”.

On the flip side, I will be real here: it is not easy talking or relating to a man with definitive educational gaps. Now, I know everyone who loves exceptions will offer up a spate of their genius IQ high school or college dropout friends*, but I’m talking about what I’ve met on average in the general course of life.

I don’t play Jeopardy with every man I meet, but for fun I’ll look for some indication that this guy keeps himself informed or has an intense interest in anything beyond his nose. Usually, I find that he’s satisfied with his lot in life. Good for him. He will not even have the slightest desire to know more, travel, explore or fulfill some lifelong aspirational ambition. Nope. He’s happy as a pig in s&!t (although, in fact, pigs put their stuff in one corner and do not wallow in it).

But hey, who am I to decide he needs more? So, where he sees bliss, I see stagnation. And I’m happy for the guy, but I realize that we wouldn’t last long as a couple.

My philosophy is this: if I like learning, studying, schooling, travel, and seeking opportunities to explore, why would I expect to get along with a man who doesn’t? I’m old enough to know that I cannot.

 


 

* For example, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Michael Dell and men like these don’t count in this relationship equation. Steve returned to college to continue learning, but focusing only on classes that served his interests. Gates and Dell left college a number of credits shy of their degrees.

The difference with these men is that they are ambitious, eternally curious and they never stopped learning….

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The Next Disaster: Will It Be Us?

Does tragedy come in threes? fours? a score or more? I am certainly not wishing for it. I’ve been briefly taking in the news on Japan, because I don’t want to take it up to “disaster porn” level. I’m hoping that the Nuke Reactors get under control, and nothing worse happens.

Are You Ready For a Disaster?

Stay Prepared*

It’s a question one must ask these days. As we can see, even the most organized and wealthiest government(s) wont bring the kind of immediate help we see in Hollywood disaster movies. The reality would be like Katrina, if not possibly worse. In times of chaos, whether fast or slow, you have to rely on yourself, family, friends, and honorable acquaintances.

I don’t think anyone could ever been too prepared.

Based on the dangers in your area: flood, tornado, hurricane, or earthquake. Ask yourself this: Are you properly insured? Do you have backup copies of your personal papers off site? Maybe you decide to keep important papers in a bank safety deposit box?

If you have to run out the door (with the devil at your back) – is there a bag with first aid kit, spare underwear (never underestimate the need for extra knickers), wipes, water, snack(s), a bit of cash, etc. within reach to help if you cannot get back home right away?

I keep this stuff in my car – traffic can be hell in New Jersey. 🙂

Preparation List from Volunteer Mid-South

The American Boiling Frog

I keep feeling like there is some low-level stuff going on, creeping along, that’s bad, bad, bad, but we all cannot see it. Like the entire nation is a frog sitting in slowly boiling water.

The economy is in a grind. The cost of food is rising. Rising oil price is going to choke off economic growth. There are millions of people out of work, and likely millions more who are homeless.

Yet, the media doesn’t see or talk about them. Curious.

Come On! Must We Be Involved In Another War?

Deja vu all over again. Does no one in Washington, DC ever pay attention? How many times have we been thanked, after America has invaded to “help”, with terrorist attacks or “man-made disasters” and deadly shoot-outs? Sometimes it is best to stand by and watch people who are typically ungrateful and violent.

When our government gets involved for some reason – they don’t know when to leave. Is that the goal? Another country to have troops to sit in?

Do these people not remember that we had a no-fly zone over Iraq for nearly a decade?

I suspect, if the UN Resolution was enforced (to institute a no-fly zone over Libya), the media would immediately report that portions of that country revolting against Qadhafi or number of deaths were exaggerated.

Get Outdoors and Have Fun

Spring is here. Time to get out and play.

Have a good one.

*From the Red Cross – I make no money if you decide to buy that bag. I linked because I thought it was good source of information. 🙂

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Rape of Young Black Girls: Do We Ever Learn Anything From These Stories?

I would like to know. Frankly, I’m sick of knowing about these stories.* The reason is my feelings about what should happen to the perpetrators would fall under extreme cruel and unusual punishment. I’m all for sterilization, hangings, the electric chair, and putting the criminals to sleep like any animal that needs to be put down.

I would even air drop them down into war torn countries around the world, or have them put in those jails to rot away to get a taste of what real deprivation is like. They don’t deserve to be treated with any consideration of “human rights” – they lost that privilege when they committed a violent crime against a child.

However, due to the politically correct, idiot intelligentsia that never thinks of the victims or their families, along with their desire to show how morally superior they are, the punishment will never fit the crime. The sentencing will be delicate, plea bargained to a “lesser crime”, and the years doled out modest (always less than the actual sentencing).

The Details and Excuses Don’t Matter

As for the crime: I don’t care to know the minute details, the back stories, where it happened, why it happened, how many were involved or whether the victim was familiar with her attackers. The reality is young black girls are nearly always attacked, raped, brutalized by people familiar, or known, to them.

What I know of this case, like so many others, is someone’s baby girl was viciously and brutally attacked, and there are people (I use that term loosely) regarding this incident with an indifferent shrug. Or they’re more concerned about the well being or public regard towards the attackers. That’s how deep into hell certain “communities” have fallen.

There is no morality left.

There are folks who will expend more time worrying about the treatment of the perpetrators due to their race, their gender, whether they came from “broken homes”, and how the incident will reflect on the “community”. They will fling the usual monkey poo buffalo chips about racism (you know, the white man made them do it), poverty (jobs would have stopped them from being brutal rapists!), the girl at fault for being too fast, too sexy at 11 (she made them do it!), and the usual rabble about fair trials (’cause the “brothas” never get a break!).

It’s almost guaranteed we will hear that a majority of the attackers are “mentally handicapped” and have IQs of around 85 or room temperature. They couldn’t stop, because they were just playing follow the leader.

Despite the harshness of my crime and punishment stance, I believe every defendant is entitled to the benefit of doubt and the presumption of innocent. And if, or when, they are found guilty: hang ’em high.

Keep This in Mind: The Hell Pits Are Here to Stay

I’m sick of these horror stories, because I know within a few days there will be another, followed by another, and then another. It never stops.

I know it is hard for a mother (and father) to be around to protect their daughters. She has to work. Perhaps she has to take time to attend school on nights or weekends. Momma might even think a family member or friend is looking after her little girl, or assumes her daughter is safe among her own “friends.”

Black Women: You Have a Choice

Common sense should never be up for debate. Yet, there are people who just love, love, love to argue and drop major B.S. playing with the idea as to whether black women have the right to move away from the “community.” There is a mindset that all black women are community property. The black woman is the resource everyone in the “community” needs to help keep it going. There are always layers of excuses as to why she should continue to live in hell, in approximation to hell, or in this place that’s transitioning to hell, by helping to “fix up” what’s wrong.

In case anyone didn’t know: that is a black man’s job. If he and his boys ain’t willing: it is not her problem. Black women aren’t obligated to live in neighborhoods infested with criminals, because the residents sorta look like them or share cultural baggage. Marches, slogans, t-shirts, and pity parades for mercy wont change a damn thing.

‘Cause she cannot run away from her people. Right? I mean, really? Well, most of her peeps might be plotting to rape, rob, and possibly kill her. She has every right to run. And run now.

The only thing that matters is quality of life. It doesn’t include cowering in fear – or fronting like she’s fearless – from people that share a similar hue or phenotype while pretending there is a meaningful connection due to those factors.

With incidents like this, is it really worth it to stay?

I hope every mother (and father) who cares about their young black daughter(s) think about where they live, check the crime stats for the new neighborhood, and make that move. There are still cheaper, lower to low crime areas to live. America is a very, very, very big country. Hoodlums are not hanging out on every street corner.

There are safer places to reside.

Dear Mommas

Be vigilant. Be proactive. Please think about changing your life, make a move, because the one you save may be your own or that of your child.

*Note: the following are links to these types of stories. Thanks for the hat tips, Bellydancer.

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Black Women: My Pursuit of Happiness

I love myself. I am relaxed about it. I am mostly cheerful, generous, vain, conceited, selfish, don’t suffer pangs of guilt, and I like women who are this way too. In men, this is a no-no.

I love being a woman. If I could be reincarnated, I wouldn’t hesitate with my choice: same person, same looks, same everything.

I love my family. I love them. I never went around wishing for other folks to be related to.

I love my friends. I love them and their ways. I adore quirky people.

I love to travel. Oh, if I had the money to fly, drive, cruise, sail, and go wherever and whenever I want. If I could travel freely, I would be away from home 6 out of 12 months a year.

I love sunny beaches. Why am I not living in Hawaii, Florida or California? I don’t know. New Jersey has beaches, I suppose that’s good enough.

I love fresh snow, until the next day and the next day and the next day. Cabin fever is getting to me!

I love babies, kittens, puppies and new born things. So adorable….

I love a brand new day. I get another start. I get to start anew. Each day is a gift.

I love to anticipate the good.

I love to think positive.

I love being an optimist.

I love rooting for the underdog.

I love America. I do. No matter where I travel to, I’m overwhelmingly happy to come home. This country is my home. I could easily learn to would love living anywhere else, since I am not an absolutist, but I’m happy here. For now.

Happiness is a deliberate emotion. Happiness is a decision you make each and every day.

I love men. Okay, I love most of them. I don’t blog about the ones I have no interest in. Doesn’t make sense to.

I love self-confident people. I love people who are attractive in spirit and that has nothing to do with perfect features or their external appearance.

I love learning.

I love my curiosity.

I have to remind myself that what I love is much more than what I could possibly hate. I don’t hate that many things, and for those things that I do, it is a very short list. My list of annoyances can be very, very, very long though.

I love life.

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Black Women: Look Out for Number One

Black Women, please put yourself first.

I think it’s great that there are many resources (online, library, books, tapes, etc.) available for the betterment of black women. However, I always have a beef with those that clamor for black women to make changes. These proposals often ask: what can a black woman do to benefit others, but not what the black woman can do for herself.

I make no bones about looking out for myself.

Like a passenger on a plane, black women must put the oxygen mask on herself first. You cannot help others if you aren’t breathing. You cannot help others if your financial house is not in order. You cannot help others if your priorities are messed up. You cannot fix others, if you are still broken.

I have a fantastic family. I love the way I was brought up. No one in my family, especially my Mother and Father ever made me think my well being had to be sacrificed to please anyone. You get my drift? My stuff belonged to me. My well being came first – as well as my siblings. I wasn’t raised to be second to anyone.

So I’m often perplexed when I read, see, or know of black women who feel guilty if they aren’t throwing themselves under the bus for people. I realize that they might not even be aware of it. But no woman should be a sacrificial lamb.

Be a sistah to yourself first.

Learn to be selfish. It’s a good thing. Be loyal to yourself. So next time someone says, “You’re so selfish.” Reply with, “Yes, I am, that’s why I’m living well.”

Give vanity a try! Looking great makes you feel great! It’s good for your overall emotional and physical health!

Guilt is a wasteful emotion. Don’t ever let anyone use this on you.

Giving your time is just as precious as giving your life. Don’t be so caviler about it.

Get into the habit of saying, “No.” Don’t hem and haw.

If people want you to ride or die for them, let them ride or die for you first.

Agreeing with someone doesn’t make you a follower, doormat, or groupie. Disagreeing with someone doesn’t (or shouldn’t) make you an enemy, even if you enjoy playing Devil’s Advocate. Intelligent people appreciate well thought-out criticism.

Don’t feel obligated to anyone. They could be using you. You know the deal: they do you one favor and the next thing you know, you are repaying that one favor over a lifetime.

People are clumsy at self-expression, not everyone is glib and verbally gifted. Cut the inarticulate, and possibly the ignorant, some slack. Not everyone is aiming for your jugular.

Last, but not least, you are not a bank, a charity, or a non-profit organization. Don’t be afraid to ask for your money. Don’t be afraid to charge for your time and effort.

Don’t get in the habit of purchasing affection. Life gets rough when you run out of money.

Not everybody is going to like you, but they should, at least, respect you.

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