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 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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Rapunzalima, Rapunzalima Let Down Your Weave

Went out to a mall a few miles away with my Mother. It’s always a challenge when I go out to eat. At this particular chain (TGI Fridays), they provide no information on their website as to how many calories their food has. It was the only eatery I could find on my GPS, otherwise I would have gone somewhere else.

However, their Vanilla Bean Cheesecake is deadly. It has to be about 600-870 plus calories. It tasted sooooooo damn good. I wont be eating something like that again until next year. It’s that dangerous.

After roaming the parking lot for an inordinate amount of time, we finally find a decent spot. We head inside the “restaurant”. I’m very fussy about where I sit. The seater / host / whatever they’re called asks if we want to sit in a booth next to this couple.

Welcome to the Jungle

I just don’t like sitting close to anyone. I mean, half the restaurant was empty, why sit up under anybody?

So, I said, “No, I like being near the window.” For me, that was that.

We walk past the couple. I hear someone snort? laugh? grunt? in disdain. Okay.

After we’re seated, I glance briefly at the source of the snuffling and huffling out of curiosity.

It’s a Shaniqua* with her “man” (I suppose) L’Trellmont.* She’s totally on the hostility tip. Glaring and staring.

Alrighty, then! Last time I can recall such animosity was over a decade ago. I decide not to look at her again: no point in feeding the animal.

I head off to the ladies room to wash my hands. Can I say, I hate dirty, stinking restrooms? Wow. That place was nasty. Never again!

Upon returning to my seat, I start playing with my shoulder-length twists. I’m shaking, and flipping, my hair off of my face. I’m twirling them. Oh, yeah. Just having fun. Can’t keep my hands out of my hair.

A little while later, I overhear the Shaniqua bark, “Bitch.” Oh wow, it’s that serious is it?

Rapunzalima, Rapunzalima Let Down Your Weave

Finally, they are leaving. Oh wait, she’s leaving.

I finally get a good look at the back of her. She’s not very tall (no offense to the vertically challenged among us). She’s got a very, very long weave styled to look like it belongs on the Disney character Princess Jasmine. Even the blouse looked similar.


Yet, L’Tremont is still at the table long after she’s walked – pardon – sashayed out the door. Did the child even know he wasn’t watching her? He’s staring at me. I raise my eyebrows. He continues to stare. It’s that kind of look.

Folks are so weird these days. Seriously? She thinks I would want him? Did he think I’m interested?

What in the world?

I turn back to my Mom, and tell her about the little non-interaction with these people. She’s surprised.

I shrug, and laugh. Maybe if little girl wasn’t huffing and puffing so much her guy wouldn’t have noticed me. She should have realized – if you want to keep his eyes on you, and the waist length weave, do not bring his attention to another woman with natural hair that you perceive as long.

All that drama. And for what?

I really was complimented by the silly. I didn’t realize I was worthy of so much attention. I’m almost old enough to be the little girl’s Momma, but that never stops the stupidity, does it?

* I don’t know these people’s names. I just made them up. But there is something shared, in looks and behavior, by the people who’ve shown me hostility in the past. So, don’t be offended if this is your actual name(s).

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It’s Cranky Sunday! My List of Dislikes

1. Taking myself seriously.

2. People who take themselves too seriously. Oh, so boring.

3. Comedians who don’t know how to tell a joke without using racial, sexual, politically-incorrect situations, profane language, stereotypes, and still aren’t funny. That’s the bigger crime, not being funny even after using up every taboo.

4. Extremely long trips in the plane, train, or car. I will do whatever I can to avoid it. Price may be no object.

5. Working for a corporation where almost all the managers are white males, and nearly everyone at the bottom is a woman. This place sucks.

6. Interviewing at a corporation where all the managers are men, and everyone at the bottom is a woman. This place sucks.

7. People who like to cut off a story you are telling just to observe something trivial. Hey, I’m through. I’d prefer to be told, “I don’t want to hear that story.” I can respect that. Just don’t be surprised when I return the favor.

8. TMI (too much information): Why wont you keep it to yourself? Not everyone is Oprah, Tyra, or an inquisitive reporter.

9. Older / younger women (black or white) who need to share their offensive opinion of one’s (take your pick) clothing, hair (style), weight, appearance, and family members that they cannot keep to themselves. I would like for them to try, or please, STFU.

10. Strange men who think they have the right to invade my personal space, or stare at me as though I must acknowledge them. Either say hello, or keep it moving. You aren’t special.

11. Dog owners. That’s why people poison the pooch, folks keep making a nuisance of the animal.

12. Excessively politically correct people, who know all the silly, bloody dumb abbreviations for the causes they support are irritating phonies and frauds. The “causes” they support with abbreviations, slang, or correct-speak, comes across as incoherent nonsense.

Wearing one’s “goodness” on the sleeve makes me suspect cynicism. So everyone is bad, hence they need you to tell them how to be good, pure, decent, and altruistic? Look, those who give to charity don’t bray about it like a donkey for 24/7. They are the truly kind people.

Collect your goody-two-shoes-cookies: go home. It’s a cruel world out there; nobody cares about how sincere you are pretending to be.

13. Tailgaters.

14. People who drive with the car windows down, playing hip hop / rap at the loudest volume possible. Effing morons.

15. Organizations using the same picture of a brown skinned child for the last twenty plus years to raise money.

16. Any “non-profit” company, corporation, or person trying to guilt-trip me into doing something “noble”: to send money, join their cause, or alter my behavior for the good of others. I just wanna firebomb your headquarters, or take a baseball bat upside your head.

Emotional blackmail is not a good way to get me to see the worthiness of the endeavor. Give me a rational, logical, and substantial reason why I should do something. Otherwise ….

17. Being able to predict the end of the majority of movies, and TV shows, within the first 15-20 minutes. I’ve been able to do that since I was 9 years old.

18. All media, new and old, working to get me to concerned, stirred up, or worried about elected officials, government, the economy, box office tallies, company x going down the toilet, strife in country y, starvation in country z, and famous-for-no-reason celebrity bleached blond, or lace front wearing, twit.

I don’t care. I don’t want to know.

19. Women who are hostile (evil eye, verbal combativeness) to other women, because the object of scorn is (extremely) attractive, apparently fussy, younger, and minding her own business. How about leaving her alone?

20. Men who are verbally (and potentially physically) abusive to women, because the object of fixation is (extremely) attractive, apparently fussy, and ignoring their existence. How about leaving her alone?

21. Slang.

22. Women who complain about their spouses to me. I’m feeling contempt for you honey, not sympathy.

23. Abbreviations are meaningless without an initial description. I don’t even bother to Google: I stop reading.

24. Familiarity. Due to “us” being “black.” Step back! Back up, back up! I don’t know you. Show some manners, it is not hard.

25. Assuming that, because I am “black”, I will agree with every I’m-black-first-woman-second, liberal, progressive, left-wing, Democratic Party, far-flung Marxist, Socialist, Communist, anti-Semitic, anti-white, anti-Asian, anti-Latino, anti-male, misanthropic, xenophobic, racist, misogynistic philosophy, or sentiment expressed.

Try again. I don’t believe the answer is always so simple. There are nuances to everything.

Phew, it’s amazing the number of people I’ve met, who will sidle up to me, and assume, I share, or embrace their biases, beliefs, common tropes, stereotypes, and prejudices, because I am a woman who’s “black.” Scary. You don’t know me.

26. Self-pity. I suggest suicide as a cure.

27. Emotional bullies. (see 25)

28. People who want you to be impressed with their degrees, or the degrees of others, from Ivy League or prestigious colleges or universities. I’m happy for them. Impressed? No.

29. People who spend all day talking about how much money their spouses make, how well connected or wealthy their family is, or other talking points designed to make you realize just how fabulous and awesome they are. Okay. Cool! Here’s a cookie.

30. Men who wont marry the mother of his illegitimate bastards, and wants to pretend she’s stopping it from happening. The disrespect to her, himself and the kid(s) is appalling. No one is fooled. You don’t look like a responsible “man”.

31. Women who wont marry the father of her illegitimate bastards, and wants to pretend that she’s liberated, empowered, and a clever feminist defeating paternalistic matrimony. Yeah, everyone’s really awed with your notion of freedom. Selfish and irresponsible, that’s what you are.

32. The Internet.

33. People with an entitlement mentality. This country is decaying. The social fabric unraveling day by day, bit by bit, because everyone is expecting the labor of others to fulfill their needs, wants and livelihood. It’s an impossible demand and situation. Everyone cannot live out of the pockets of others. Everyone must earn their own keep.

34. People who think that a bit of immorality in one place doesn’t seep into others. If your “friend” is a thief, they will also come to steal from you, or worse. Count on it.

35. Hospitals.

36. Malodorous persons, places or things.

37. Long, long, long lines anywhere – that are barely moving. I don’t even have to be on one. Just can’t stand the sight of it.

38. Thieves: be it of useful things, time, patience, and good feelings.

39. Katy Perry, Jennifer Aniston, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, and whatever “famous” person for the next 15 minutes, whom we’ll never see, or (God willing) never hear of, or from, again. These names are just the tip of this particular iceberg.

40. Crowds. Aaaaarrrrggggghhhh!

There could be more, but I’ll stop here.

To be continued, with what I Like.

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