Moratorium revisited

I was looking at some previous posts and I saw my moratorium on my single status. I wonder if the previous post counts as me bringing up relationship stuff. I guess not. I’m looking but I’m not touching anyone. I hate to say it but frankly there has been no one to touch. School starts is in a week so this won’t matter anymore. I won’t have time for anything but school. Lack of a relationship is a minor sacrifice when talking about my education. At one point in my life I never thought I would have a college degree. Now that I know that I will have a degree that is all that matters to me.

My new crush

I'm sitting here and I'm watching RENT and I am so crushing on Jesse L Martin. Let us get the obvious out of the way

1. RENT the motion picture is a shitty movie. Plays like this should be made 20 years after it leaves Broadway. At that point a whole new generation can get into it and appreciate it.

2. Rosario Dawson has no business being in this movie. As per wikipedia the original Mimi Daphne Rubin-Vega was unable to be in the movie because she was pregnant. They should have waited for her to pop the kid out and given her a week to drop the baby fat.

3. Tracie Thoms . Her wikipedia page she says she has been trying out for a role in the Broadway production but has been unsuccessful. From watching the movie I can see why they didn’t want her in the play. Her voice is very nice but she doesn’t scream Joanne. I hate to say this but they needed a big woman to play that part.

4. Jesse L. Martin plays a gay man in this film. I know your wondering out there in blog world why would I crush on a man playing a gay character? I was ignoring that fact for my crush purposes.

But back to Mr. Martin he is a sexy man. I anxiously await his performance in Sexual Healing . If you haven’t watched BETJ then you need to start. If your cable company does not provide it then you need to call them ASAP. BETJ plays mini concerts and on Saturday they played a whole hour of live Marvin Gaye. My love for old music is a blessing and a curse at the same time. I love the music but then I am reminded of the fact that most of the greats are gone. I will only be able to experience Marvin through BETJ.



But Jesse, why are there not more men like him walking around.

Have you ever...

I just looked at my last post and I realize I have not followed up on my last one to post a few questions from my game. I know I never did and the game at the shower went very well. Baby is still not here but I expect baby Josiah will be making an appearance soon. If you ever read this blog Josiah I hope you know you were already loved.

Blah!!!

The strange thing about blogs is this. You want to type how you really feel but is that wise? You never really know your audience with these things. I am sorry that is has been so long since I've written anything and it bothers me that I cannot say anything substantial. I have a lot going on in my life but it has to stay quiet. There has to be an outlet somewhere.

and the woot of the day is....

some bullshit

ohh well

Happy Birthday to Me

Another year, another birthday, another day without my father. My original plan was to be out celebrating my birthday with my friends but I am at home. Again putting someone else in front of my own. It was my decision to have my aunt's shower the weekend of my birthday but I don't regret it. There is just too much going on for the rest of the summmer. This party needs to happen now. I really don't mean to bitch. I know for a fact that things could be worse. I've already experienced worse than this. One of the baby shower games that we are playing is "Have You Ever". When creating that game I realized I haven't done a whole lot with my life and that is what makes birthday's sad for me. I will post up some of the questions from the game when I am more awake. I'm only up right now waiting for the woot of the day. It should not be taken as a list of things to do before I die it will be what it says, a list of things I've never done.

Bitch Please

Woman asks 911 to send 'cutie pie' deputy
Fri Jul 14, 4:05 PM ET
A woman who called 911 to get "the cutest cop I've seen" sent back to her home got a date all right — a court date.
The same sheriff's deputy arrested her on charges of misuse of the emergency dispatch system.
Washington County Sheriff's Sgt. David Thompson told KGW-TV of Portland it all started with a noise complaint called in last month by neighbors of Lorna Jeanne Dudash. The deputy sent to check on the complaint knocked on her door, then left.
Thompson said Dudash then called 911, asking that the "cutie pie" deputy return.
"He's the cutest cop I've seen in a long time. I just want to know his name," Dudash told the dispatcher. "Heck, it doesn't come very often a good man comes to your doorstep."
After listening to some more, followed by a bit of silence, the dispatcher asked again why Dudash needed the deputy to return.
"Honey, I'm just going to be honest with you, OK? I just thought he was cute. I'm 45 years old and I'd just like to meet him again, but I don't know how to go about doing that without calling 911," she said.
"I know this is absolutely not in any way, shape or form an emergency, but if you would give the officer my phone number and ask him to come back, would you mind?"
The deputy returned, verified that there was no emergency and arrested her for misusing the 911 system, an offense punishable by a fine of up to several thousand dollars and a year in jail.
Thompson said Thursday it was the first case he knew of in which someone called the emergency line for such a personal reason.
"That's taking up valuable time from dispatchers who could be taking true emergency calls," he said.

Family, Let us pray
That I never get so desperate for a man that I call the 911 operator. Or marry a gay man

You in da hood now baby (C) Wendy Williams

Yeah yeah I know I'm late. This whole Star Jones thing is pretty much old news by now but I'm just getting to it now so sue me.

I've been saying this for a while and I knew all of the events from the last few weeks were inevitable. Star I hate to tell you this but you made a common mistake that most black celebrities make. You forgot you were black. Have we learned nothing from Chris Rock? Was he really being funny when he said "When your white the skies the limit and when your black the limit is the sky." No Star you can't do what most white celebrities and endorse products to get freebies for your wedding. No Star you can't use the system like most people do. You would think she would have learned in so many years as a black professional that the rules are different for black people. I think deep down she just forgot and you know what she is human. Well she remembers now. Mrs. Jones Reynolds karma is a bitch. I never met you personally but since you have been on The View I have yet to hear anything good about you. I've only heard how you discard and ignore people you consider to be beneath you. Karma is a bitch. I hope she gets back on TV and I hope its doing something she is good at like I don't know the law.

Don’t take my sarcasm seriously. I wish the best for Miss Starlet. Everyday I feel I see an important woman for example Hillary Rodham Clinton or Oprah sit on the receiving end of a whole lot of bullshit. I wonder what kind of chance an average woman like me has in a male dominated world. Look how the extraordinary ones get treated. When things like this happen to famous woman I wonder if a man would have received the same treatment. Ken Starr was convicted of stealing millions of dollars from everyday people but still had the money to rent a vacation home in Aspen. People yell at Star for wedding freebies but Ken Starr gets a pass. This is the world we live in and I’ve accepted that. By accepting that, it does not mean I am not going to try to succeed and be as fabulous as the women I previously mentioned I’m just going to try to remember the rules.

We Still Wear the Mask by W. Jelani Cobb

This article was posted on okayplayer.com a few days ago. I enjoyed reading this and I think everyone should take a long at Mr. Cobb's other essays on his website

We Still Wear the Mask by W. Jelani Cobb

We could have known that it would come to this way back in 1896. That was the year that Paul Lawrence Dunbar dropped a jewel for the ages, telling the world that "we wear the mask that grins and lies." The poet's point was that beneath the camouflage of subservient smiles, black folks of the Jim Crow era were hiding a powder keg of other emotions, waiting patiently for the chance to detonate. The thing is, Dunbar never got the chance to spit bars with 50 Cent or throw in aguest collabo on a Mobb Deep album. If he had, then he would've known that grins and lies were only half the story. These days, camouflage is the new black. Glance at hip hop for less than a second and it becomes clear that the music operates on a single hope: that if the world mistakes kindness for weakness it can also be led to confuse meanness with strength. That principle explains why there is a permanent reverence for the thug within the music, it is why there is a murderer's grit and a jailhouse tat peering back at you from the cover of damn near any CD you picked up in the last five years. But what hip hop can't tell you, the secret that it would just as soon take to its deathbed is that it this urban bravado is a guise, a mask, a head-fake to shake the reality of fear and powerlessness in America. Hip hop will never admit that our assorted thugs and gangstas are not the unbowed symbol of resistance to marginalization, but the most complacent and passive products of it. We wear the mask that scowls and lies.

You could see which way the wind was blowing way in the early 90s when Dr. Dre was being ripped off by white Ruthless Records CEO Jerry Heller, and nonetheless got his street cred up by punching and kicking Dee Barnes, a black woman journalist, down a flight of stairs. In thislight, hip hop's obsessive misogyny makes a whole lot more sense. It is literally the logic of domestic violence. A man is abused by a larger society, but there are consequences to striking back at thesource of his problems. So he transfers his anger to an acceptable outlet – the women and children in his own household, and by extension, all the black people who constitute his own community. Nothing better illustrates that point than the recent Oprah Debacle. Prior to last month, if you'd heard that a group of rappers had teamed up to attack a billionaire media mogul you would think that hip hop had finally produced a moment of black pride on par with 1968 Olympics. But nay, just more blackface. In the past two months, artists as diverse as Ludacris, 50 Cent and Ice Cube have attacked Oprah Winfrey for her alleged disdain for hip hop. It's is a sad but entirely predictable irony that the oneinstance in which hip hop's reigning alpha males summon the testicular fortitude to challenge someone more powerful and wealthy than they are, they choose to go after a black woman. The whole set up was an echo of some bad history. Two centuries ago, professional boxing got its start in America with white slaveholders who pitted their largest slaves against those from competingplantations. Tom Molineaux. First black heavyweight champion came up through the ranks breaking the bones of other slaves and making white men rich. After he'd broken enough of them, he was given his freedom. The underlying ethic was clear: an attack on the system that has madea slave of you will cost you your life, but an attack on another black person might just be the road to emancipation. The basis for this latest bout of black-on-black pugilism was Oprah's purported stiff-arming of Ludacris during an appearance on her show with the cast of the film Crash. Ludacris later complained that the host had made an issue of lyrics she saw as misogynistic. Cube jumped into the act whining that Oprah has had all manner of racist flotsam on her show but has never invited him to appear – proof, in his mind, that she has an irrational contempt for hip hop. Then 50 threw in his two cents with a claim that Oprah's criticism of hip hop was an attempt to win points with her largely white, middle class audience.

All told, she was charged her with that most heinous of hip hop's felonies: hateration. But before we press charges, isn't 50 the same character who openly expressed his love for GW Bush as a fellow "gangsta" and demanded that the black community stop criticizing how he handled Hurricane Katrina? Compare that to multiple millions that Oprah has disseminated to our communities (including building homes for the Katrina families, financing HIV prevention in South Africa and that $5 million she dropped on Morehouse College alone) and the point becomes even more obvious.In spite of – or, actually, as a result of -- his impeccable gangsta credentials, 50 basically curtsied before a President who stayed on vacation for three days while black bodies floated down the NewOrleans streets. No wonder it took a middle-class preppie with an African name and no criminal record to man up and tell the whole world that "George Bush don't care about black folks." No wonder David Banner – a rapper who is just a few credits short of a Master's Degree in social work -- spearheaded hip hop's Katrina relief concerts, not any of his thug counterparts who are eternally shouting out the hoods they allegedly love. The 50 Cent, whose music is a panoramic vision on black-on-black homicide, and who went after Ja Rule with the vengeance of a dictator killing off a hated ethnic minority did everything but tap dance when Reebok told him to dismantle his porn production company or lose his lucrative sneaker endorsement deal. But why single out 50? Hip hop at-large was conspicuously silent when Bush press secretary Tony Snow (a rapper's alias if ever there was one) assaulted hip hop in terms way more inflammatory than Oprah's mild request: Take a look at the idiotic culture of hip-hop and whaddya have? You have people glorifying failure. You have a bunch of gold-toothed hot dogs become millionaires by running around and telling everybody else that they oughtta be miserable failures and if they're really lucky maybe they can get gunned down in a diner sometime, like Eminem's old running mate.(We're still awaiting an outraged response from the thug community for that one.) Rush Limbaugh has blamed hip hop for everything short of the Avian flu but I can't recall a single hip hop artist who has gone after him lyrically, publicly or physically. Are we seeing a theme yet?It's worth noting that Ludacris did not devote as much energy to Bill O'Reilly – who attacked his music on his show regularly and caused him to lose a multi-million dollar Pepsi endorsement – as he did to criticizing Oprah who simply stated that she was tired of hip hop's misogyny. Luda was content to diss O'Reilly on his next record and go about his business. Anyone who heard the interview that Oprah gave on Power 105.1 in New York knew she was speaking for a whole generation of hip hop heads when she said that she loved the music, but she wanted the artists to exercise some responsibility. But this response is not really about Oprah, or ultimately about hip hop, either. It is about black men once again choosing a black woman as the safest target for their aggression even one will a billion dollars is still fair game. Of all their claims, the charge that Oprah sold out to win points with her white audience is the most tragically laughable. The truth is that her audience's white middle-class kids exert waaay more influence over 50 and Cube than their parents do over Oprah. I long ago tired of Cube, a thirty-something successful director, entrepreneur and married father of three children records about his aged recollections of a thug's life. The gangsta theme went cliché eons ago, but Cube, 50 anda whole array of their musical peers lack either the freedom or the vision to talk about any broader element of our lives. The reality is that the major labels and their majority white fan base will notaccept anything else from them. And there we have it again: more masks, more lies. It is not coincidental that hip hop has made Nigga the most common noun in popular music but you have almost never heard any certified thug utter the word cracker, ofay, honky, peckerwood, wop, dago, guinea, kike or any other white-oriented epithet. The reason for that is simple: Massa ain't havin' it. The word fag, once a commonplace derisive in the music has all but disappeared from hip hop's vocabulary. (Yes, these thugs fear the backlash from white gays too.) And bitch is still allowed with the common understanding that the termis referring to black women. The point is this: debasement of black communities is entirely acceptable – required even – by hip hop's predominantly white consumer base.We have lived enough history to know better by now – to know that gangsta is Sonny Liston, the thug icon of his era, threatening to kill Cassius Clay but completely impotent when it came to demanding that his white handlers stop ripping him off. Gangsta is the black men at the Parchman Farm prison in Mississippi who beat the civil rights workers Fannie Lou Hamer and Annelle Ponder into bloody unconsciousness because their white wardens told them to. Gangsta is Michael Ervin, NFL bad boy remaining conspicuously mute on Monday Night Football while Limbaugh dissed Donovan McNabb as an Affirmative Action athlete. Gangsta is Bigger Thomas, scared, confused andmystified by the ways of the white world. Surely our ancestors' struggles were about more than creatingmillionaires who could care less about us and tolerating their violent disrespect out of a hunger for black success stories. Surely we are not so desperate for heroes that we uphold cardboard icons becausethey throw good glare. There's more required than that. The weight of history demands more than simply this. Surely we understand that this clash is not about hip hop or even self-promotion; it is about acting out an age-old script. Taking the Tom Molineaux route. Spitting in the wind and breaking black bones. Hoping to become free.

Or, at least a well-paid slave.

An Oldie....

I posted this on my myspace blog March 24, 2006. Its relavent I promise. That is the reason for the repost. It's relavance will be explained later.


Yesterday, my school hosted a seminar called "Equity Pay for Women". This forum was a part of women's history month and featured Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. I've left the program at home and I wish I can acknowlegde the other speakers on the panel but I cannot recall the names. All I have to say is there were all excellent and very imformative. The morning started off very nice and uneventful and at about 11:00 they breaked for a short intermission. After the intermission began a panel discussioin with Senator Clinton as the moderator. As soon as the Senator came on stage I noticed people standing up in the audience. As the panel discussion continued more people stood with thier backs to the Senator and on the back of their t shirts said "Troops out Now". Then one of the protestors started shouting things during the disscussion. After the panel ended I walked out of the Stahler Center and this group had coffins drapped with American flags on the ground. In addition people were laying on the ground staging a "die-in".
Now I'm all for protesting, freedom of speech and peoples right to demonstration. But why Senator Clinton? These are for the most part (not entirely) college educated students. I'm sure in their time at Stony Brook they learned that a senator from New York does not have the power to withdraw US troops from Iraq. But they still protest against her. Now I am aware of the fact that Senator Clinton voted for the resolution that sent troops into Iraq but many senators voted for that war. I wondered "Does Charles Schumar get the same reception Hillary does?"
Yesterday I realized again why Hillary Rodham Clinton is one of my heroes. First she was a working mother and First Lady of Arkansas. In 1980 when President Clinton became governor, I'm sure that did not sit well in the conservative south. I'm sure you had to battle people during that time. When she became First Lady of the United States more people hated her for wanting to work and help her husband improve this counrty. When her husband had an affair she stood by him despite the betrayl. Because of her decision she faced oppostion from feminists who didn't agree with the "Stand by you Man" mantra. Then Kenneth Starr and his team came later and tried to crucify her and her husband for his affair. Now her husband's indisrection was on public record. When that was over and she decided she wanted a political identity besides being First Lady she was atttacked again for wanting to represent New York in the Senate. And now she is attacked for a war she has no control over but she still does it. She still gets up everyday and fights a fight most women don't have it in them to do. She deals with small minded men on a regular basis and....

She is still standing, still strong
Thank you Senator Clinton for dealing with bullshit so I don't have to.

Moratorium

Last week I made a decision to cease all blogs and discussions about my single status. One of my pet peeves in life is its repetition. I hate the fact that most of the time life is truly like the movie Groundhog Day. It bothers me that life is the same shit different day. I don’t like it when other people complain about the same things over and over then why should I. Today is July 5th and in 17 days I will be 27 years old. In 27th years on this planet I had to have learned something. The other day I was telling someone one of the good things about getting older is you don’t worry about things as much. Except for a few crabby ones how many stressed out senior citizens do you know? When I think of my grandmother I don’t ever remember her sitting me down complaining about her lack of a social life. I remember being 17 and sitting on the phone with my friends crying because I don’t have a boyfriend. Thankfully the crying has stopped but, the sitting on the phone complaining to my friends because I am not in a relationship still occasionally happens.


In September, my neighbors’ nephew is getting married. The betrothed has a little brother that is my age. Ever since my neighbor moved into her house she has tried to get me together with this boy we will call Jack. I have no interest at all in Jack. I had none then and I have none now. The funny thing is I don’t think Jack had any interest in me either but his mom and my neighbor tried and tried again. Well my mother ran into Jack and his girlfriend at a my pre wedding function and Jack was in attendance with his girlfriend. Whew, I’m so glad the pressure is off me to date this man. This pre wedding function was last month and my mother has managed to mention Jack and his girlfriend to me several times. Now through several conversations I’ve kept silent. I don’t know what my mother thinks about my relationship status. In all of my eligible dating years I have never brought a man home to meet my mother. The reason for that is my mother. I was always afraid of two very different reactions; either she would be really happy or very upset. My mother has yet to grasp the concept of I am an adult and whom ever I chose to spend my time with is my choice. If she were upset about my choice in a man she would be very annoying to me about and we would fight constantly. I can hear her now telling me to stop seeing him. Or she would be really happy about it and if me and said man were to breakup she would interfere so much to try to get us back together. I get angry at my mother for treating me like a child when I know in some ways I still play the role. Now I am pretty independent but I guess somewhere in the back of mind I am still looking for her approval and that is why she has never met any of the men I’ve dated.


In 27th years something has to change. There are more important things going on in my life right now that I have decided to focus on.

Drinking

Let's go back to 1997 when I first moved out of my house for college. In high school I never drank alcohol with my friends. Okay that one time but it was prom and they were wine coolers. Now I am not tooting my own horn saying I was better than most kids my age. I was pretty good but I am not saying I was perfect. Growing up alcohol was not taboo in my house. We were taught from a young age that alcohol is a social activity for adults. If we wanted a glass of wine or champagne we were given it. I think young people drink because there parents hide liquor from them and they want to do the forbidden. Now don't get it twisted I'm not advocating underage drinking. Some parents know their kids and know they have addictive personalities and that is why they don't give them alcohol. I am going off on a tangent now back to 1997. I was on my own for the first time in my life and like most 18 year olds I went to bars to have my drink of choice the Amaretto Sour

Now Amaretto Sour was my drink of choice. When I wanted to mix things up a bit I drank Vodka and Cranberry, Sex on the Beach or Rum and Coke. I don't want to know how many of those things I imbibed that year. I think the summer I turned 19 I graduated to malt liquor. I'm still apologizing to my liver for the amount of Ole 'E' I drank that summer. At 20 I had a very short affair with Long Island Ice Teas and at 21 I became a beer drinker. Beer was cheap and very easy to buy. My current love is Johnny Walker Black Label Scotch. I actually remember when that began. It was New Year's Eve going into the 1999 and of course I had a cold. My damned tonsils acting up at the worst time. Lucky for me majority of my friends and myself were all under 21 and limited options on what we could do so we all partied at my house. That New Year's Eve was fun for so many different reasons but that story deserves its own post. Anyhoo, my throat was hurting me and I had no voice and none of the medicines I was taking were helping. So of course I go to the next best thing what was available and what is good. Scotch. Dana suggested adding lemon and honey to the drink and you know what it worked. My voice was fine after that and when it went away again I just drank more scotch.

I drafted this post a long time ago and believe me there was a relevant story but it has passed so I post it anyway.

Almost Infamous

Have you ever googled yourself? I have and it turns out if you typed my name into google you would think I were an athlete and white. Oh I’m also an equestrian. My friend LaWanda decided to do this and found out that she shares a name with a stripper in California. Google brought us to Almost Infamous

Please visit his page it is very funny. Don’t you love how google can bring perfect strangers together?

Should have been 42 years...

If my father were still alive today it would be my parents 42nd wedding anniversary. That is such a wonderful thing to me and precious at the same time. I wonder if I will make it to that point and I know part of that is my fault. I am just so darn particular when it comes to men. They always say a woman always looks for a man like her dad and I say in my case that is impossible. There could be no one else like my Dad. I was cleaning my room Monday night, I took the things off of my dresser, cleaned them and put them back. I looked at the small glass vase that is now empty and I wonder if there will ever be a flower in it again. On Valentine's day, my Dad used to put a single rose in that vase. One year, I think I was in 10th grade he started giving me silk roses. I never needed the real thing, they just shriveled up and died anyway. My father was always practical he hated giving things you couldn't use more than once.

Every June when there is an epidemic of weddings I do two thing; I gag at all the cheesy weddings I have to attend or I put the cart before the horse. I think about what kind of wedding I want but I can't find a guy that I would even think about marrying. The wedding is easy to think about because its fun and it appeals to every girly sense I have. The man however is not easy. When I think of him, I think of a man that is like me. Since I am rapidly approaching 27 I know that is not possible. Another reason why I've been thinking about my wedding is my Mother. Now I love her with my entire being but she is driving me a little nutty. We are hosting a baby shower for my aunt and uncle and we are arguing very petty things. If we can't get through a shower without argument how would we get through planning a wedding? A few weeks ago, as I was returning home from a wedding in Syracuse I was on the phone with Shauna describing the wedding, bride bride bride blah blah blah.... The woman sitting next to me started telling me about her family and how she was returning home because her mother just passed away. I listened and I sympathized since I do know that feeling of losing a parent. Then she changes subjects on me and tells me I need to sit down and write down all the qualities I want in a man. At this point the train pulled into Penn Station she says goodbye and, "Congratulations on your engagement." I'm like I'm not getting married. She smiled and then walked away.

Now I'm thinking to myself what kind of happy pill is she on and do they sell it over the counter?

I keep hearing write the type of man you want and that is something I've never done. So I will give a list. I cannot write down the qualities of the man I want to marry because I'm not ready to get married yet. The man in my life right now does not have to be perfect because I certainly am not and I know I will never be. But the man I want in my life has to be working towards something. Okay now this is not a complete list. I'm only listing the things that immediately come to mind because those should be the most important. The other things are just extra.

1. Intelligent
2. Loyal
3. Spiritual but not overly religious and Catholic
4. Independent
5. Believes in Family

Now for my list those things are very important. I can't be in a relationship with a man that I cannot talk to. What do we have if there is no loyalty if you are not on my side. Catholicism is very important to me. No I don't go to Church every Sunday but I do love the Lord. God has brought me through many difficult situations. I need a man that is independent the man in my life has to at least know how to take care of himself. In 2006, when I'm cutting the lawn and let's say I have a problem with the mower I can't go to any man my age for help. You don't have to cut the lawn but at least know how it works and make an attempt to fix it. This has nothing to do with some jobs mans work and some jobs being womans work. I don't cut the lawn because I want to but because I have to. You have to want a family. I feel as a mother I would have a lot to give. If the Lord does not bless me with my own children I will find a child somewhere that needs a home.

Is that too much to ask? I guess if it is then I shall be single for life.

Ahhh....

Last few weeks I've had so much on my mind. Hell I still do. Some things don't belong out in the world wide web. It was nice to just write.

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub

Saturday night I went to a party. What is so strange about that you may ask yourself? This was no ordinary party, it was at a club and it was 18 to party 21 to drink. I can’t remember the last time I went to a party that allowed 18 year olds. Wait no that is a lie it was in Albany. Friday nights at this one particular (the name escapes me now) Albany hotspot was 21 and over. Jessica (my old roommate) and I loved it. The place was never overcrowded, no nasty looks from 18 year old girls (oh she must think she fly cause she got good hair – no lie I’ve heard that before) and no young boys coppin a feel while they danced with you. I remember the night that party turned 18 and over very well, because it was the last I went to a party that was 18 and up. If the flyer said that I wasn’t going

How you know a club that allows 18 year olds

• The line is long as hell.
• The cover is usually more than $10
• You give the bouncer your id and who looks at you like "What you don’t have friends your age to hang out with?"
• When you walk into the club a man not only says excuse but feels the need to put his arms on your waist to physically move you
• The club is so crowded that you have no chance of "meeting up" with friends who either arrived early or are running late
• You leave the club dripping in your own sweat.
• You get a special bracelet that alerts the bartenders that you are over 21 and able to drink
• You have at least one underage person during the course of the night beg you to buy them a drink.

If I can think of more I will edit this blog to reflect them. If you can think of more please don’t hesitate to reply and I will add them. Back to my last night in the club story Jess and I went it was everything I knew it to be. I can say I was about 23 years old at the time. The final straw was when Jess and I were sitting (yes we were two of the lucky ones to find a seat) and a strange white man came up to us asked to see our id. We produced our ids for the strange white man and then I said to him now let me see your id. After giving me the nastiest look he showed me his police badge. I’m thinking how dare you give me a nasty look, N*&#a I don’t know you but now you know my name and where I live. That was it from that point on I haven’t been to an 18 and up party. I figured I’m way too old for this shit. The older I became the less patience I began to have with clubs in general. I thought my club days were over and I was just turning into my parents. But even though I am getting older I am not the old fuddy duddy I made myself out to be. (I realize use of the phrase "fuddy duddy" does make me out to be an old person?"

This past Saturday everything happened as I thought it would. I attended the party because it was #1 for charity and #2 it was going to give me an opportunity to connect with some friends from school (Stony Brook). I avoided the long line because the 20 year olds I was traveling with were afraid of traffic and other numerous things that 20 year olds think about. (I’m not mad though I was 20 once myself). We arrived at the spot around 11:45 pm, paid our $12 advanced cover fee, went inside and it was pretty dead. (I’ve been to Prince Hall Mason parties that were more crowded than that) Oh of course at the door the bouncer was nice enough to write a huge W on my hand with a sharpie to inform the bartenders that I am of drinking age I immediately get on the phone and order Dariel (Johnny Gill in the New Edition tribute band) to go to his computer and find a restaurant downtown that was still open at midnight and cheap. After about 15 minutes of trying to yell over the music I told Dariel stay by the phone I will call him back. At this time more people started to arrive, ran into some more friends from Stony Brook and my friends and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The good thing about arriving to the club early when you are too old to be there is seating. My friends and I were able to secure a seat early and it gave us a decent view of the dance floor. I fully expected to go in and be out of the touch with the music but I highly underestimated how much. The first hour of music play the only song I recognized was "Shake that Laffy Taffy". Of course all of the music played sounded very similar to that song. I still can’t identify some of the shit they called music. About an hour into the party the gods threw me a bone and the dj said, "Let’s take it back to the old school!" I heard the familiar bass beat of Bell Biv DeVoe’s Poison and was elated. Of course I head to the dance floor and I ran into Mercella who at 23 was just as excited to hear BBD as I. 23 is a good age for being at the club, you are starting to appreciate old music but you’re still up to date with what is current. After that they played Slick Rick then they went into Biggie Smalls. Why did one of my 20 year old friends call Biggie Small’s Get Money whack? It was shock! Major disbelief! I wanted to hold my chest like Fred Sanford and yell "I’m coming to meet you Elizabeth!!!" "This is the big one!!!" Who would disrespect one the greatest rappers ever? Someone that was not in high school from 1994 – 1996 would not understand the importance of the Notorious B.I.G.

After the very short old school set they went into some reggae that I enjoyed and then back to the hip hop I couldn’t understand. At this point my friends wanted to leave and I was grateful. I swear I lost pigmentation from sweating so much. I would love to know who coined the term sweat the black off because I did that night. I mean I did when I came home that night the handle for my white purse was a shade of brown very close to my own.

I have made this entry long enough. I will address two other issues: underage drinking (which I never participate in or encourage) and meeting men in the club at a late time. There are more pressing things going on now. BET awards of course.

Still Wooken PuNub

A few months ago I decided to put myself out there again. I realized I wouldn't meet anyone from my bed but, in 2006 you can. Match.com was clearly made for lazy poor people like myself. I spent a lot of time on my profile with the wording and how exactly I wanted to sell myself. So I posted my profile submitted my picture for approval and within days my account was up. I gave it about a week before I deleted my profile. I guess I'm just a little old fashioned and deep down still believe in meeting in person vs. online. More power to the people that do meet that way I just don't think its for me





Well after a few days of thinking, analyzing and hearing opinions from friends I decided to just go ahead and create a profile. Now I haven't paid yet I've just submitted a profile for approval.
I've learned a few things about myself during this process. #1 I am extremely picky. At first I thought I was being a little too picky but then I said to myself that is not such a bad thing. I mean really am I supposed to date the man that finds it acceptable to have your profile name as "wookenpunub" "lookzandbrainz", "ninja nunez or this gem "chocolatelotion"? The man that is super specific on what he wants on his profile (for example the man that requests his dates match their panties with their bras) then you are deleted from my consideration list. If your wants are too broad (for example the man willing to travel 1500 miles from where they live for a date) is eliminated as well.

The Second thing I realized is that I am a very private person. I need everything in my life to be completely separate. If I'm dating you I don't want to see you at work, I don't want to see you at school and I don't want you in any social organization I maybe apart of. Basically I need places to escape when your bothering me and vice versa. If school is nuts or my boss is on my back I have my man waiting to rub my shoulders when I get home.

The Third thing I realized is how far I am from being ready for marriage. The entire concept scares the shit out of me for many reasons. First the men I meet, I think to myself "This is what I have to chose from for a life partner?" I'm also scared of how involved you get with your spouse. There is actually a life change adjustment scale that assigns points to the different types of changes in your life. Death of a spouse comes in a 100 points Life Change Assessment Scale. Last year I watched my mother and my 40-year-old cousin bury their husbands. There are some things in life that you just never recover from.

And finally realized how much I enjoy staying at home. I like music I like to party but the last place in the world I want to meet a man is in the club. My perfect Friday night is staying in cooking or ordering in and watching a movie or watching the weeks TV on the DVR.
So now I wait and see. When the good folks at match.com approve my profile and put it up lets see IF I receive any emails from eligible men.


Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail.

Lust: One of the Seven Deadly Sins

I posted this song one day because of a friend's situation. What's ironic right about now is the song pertains to me. I am in situation right now and it can go two ways; I can ignore my feelings and stay incredibly horny or I can give in to my urges and be with a man I have no business being with. I've decided to ignore my feelings. It's not easy but you have to do things that are hard sometimes. I saw on okayplayer once someone said "God puts you in the same situation over and over again until you learn from it." I can't ask the Lord to send me a good man if I keep doing the same thing with the wrong man. That Jermaine Jackson song "Did what you did when you do what you do...." just popped into my head. With this man I will try to apply some of the lessons I have learned in my almost 27 years on this planet.


This song is all about lust. Many people from my generation should say thank you to Rick James. Many children were conceived because of this song

Rick James and Tina Marie "Fire and Desire"

Wow. It's really good to see you again, baby And I must admit you're looking very, very, very nice these days
I guess life must be treating you well Oh, me Well, I've just been doin' the same ol' thing I've always been doin 'You know, I've got a new lady now
And it's a little different then it was when I was with you You know, I think back to when we met
The way I use to be and the cold way I use to act But more than that. I think of how you changed me with your love and sensitivity
Remember when I used to...

Love them and leave them That's what I used to do Use and abuse them Then I laid eyes on you
It was pain before pleasure That was my claim to fame With every measure, baby Tasted teardrop stains, yeah
I was cold as ice long ago, baby, babyI wasn't very, very, very nice, you know Sugar, sugar, sugar
Then I kissed your lips And you tuned on my fire, baby
And you burn me up within your flame Took me a little higherMade me live again
You turned on my fire, baby Then you showed me what a love could doFire and desire, babyFeel it comin' through
And I thank you, baby

Oh, how I thank you, baby You taught me so much And you showed mw so much and love and insensitivity
That since you've been gone I don't think I've ever felt this way before
You know it's funny how a man can change So quickly from a cold blooded person Thinkin' he's God gift to women
Remember how I use to do that I must have been crazy then
Remember when you used to...

Love them and leave them Oh, that's what I used to do Use them and abuse them, whoa Then I laid eyes on you
It was pain before pleasure Oh, that was my claim to fame With every measure Tasted your teardrop stains, yeah
You were cold as ice (Woo...hoo...hoo...hoo...), baby, baby(I-I wasn't, I-I wasn't very nice, I know, woo...)Sugar, sugar, sugar, sugarThen I kissed your lips
And you (You turned on) turned (You turned on) on(You turned on my fire) my fire, baby (Ooh...)Then you showed me what a love could do (Woo...hoo...)Fire and desire (Fire and desire)Feelin' good to you (Feelin' good to you)
You turned on my fire (Fire, ooh...ooh...), baby (Oh, baby)And you burn me up within your flame (You burn me, you burn me)Fire and desire (Fire and desire)And we're both to blame, both to blame (Ooh...ooh...)
You know I guess I think we both said a little too much today (No, ooh...hoo...hoo...)
After all Tee, you're kind of with somebody elseI'm kind of livin' with somebody (Ooh...ooh...ooh...)But please do me a favor just before you go (What is it, baby)
Just put your arms around me and hold me like you used (I wanna hold you tight)
Tell me "Rick" (Oh...oh...) "Everything is gonna be alright"(Everything, everything, everything is gonna be alright)Put your arms around me Put your arms around me (Ooh...)(Ooh...ooh...)Oh, baby (Woo...ooh...ooh...)Oh, baby (Ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...)(Ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...oh)

A blast from the not so distant past

I posted this on my myspace blog March 14, 2006. My original plan was to move all of my previous entries but I have decided not to. A lot of my early writing is very sad. I'm trying to get away from the constant sadness.



Young, Gifted and Black

Allow me to go off topic for a spell...

I think my favorite thing about this blog is the fact that I don't proofread it before I post it. I spell check it but I don't proofread. Throughout my entire life I have always been afraid of my written thoughts. My biggest concern was if I wrote people would see how I completely massacre the English language. To the people reading this you have no idea how much that fear held me back in life.

Well back to the topic at hand. What made me think of this topic to write about? The Black Eyed Peas. I really like their song "Like That" and after seeing the video again I realized I really like their new "Pump It". I then ask myself "Why did I ever dislike the Black Eyed Peas?" Okay I will still agree that "My Humps" is an atrocity but other than that are they really that bad? I think not.

Why did I really hate the Black Eyed Peas? Is it because of self-hate? Self- judgment? Two things I've lived my life trying not to do. Did I try to place the Black Eyed Peas into this very small box of how black people are supposed to act? I think I did. The irony in that is I myself have never been in the box of how black people are SUPPOSED to act. I remember being a child and hating myself. At different ages it was for different reasons. I think from about 3rd grade through about 7th grade I hated the fact that I was not white. I went to a school with a class of 22 kids. Only 7 of the 22 were black. 5 girls and 2 boys. I was just different. Not only was I a minority but I looked different than the 4 other black girls in school. I hated being so different. Around 7th grade I started hearing from black people that I was too white. I remember as a child constantly downplaying my parents' accomplishments because I didn't want people to think I was rich. We were never rich but at one point we were comfortable. I think it was 10th or 11th grade when I said "FUCK IT!" I'm just going to be me. I am a black kid from the suburbs. I am young, gifted and black. I am educated. I am what the black community could be. I am not better than any other black person because I grew up in the suburbs. I am success because of circumstance. If my parents didn't work as hard as they did I would be in a completely different place now. I think that is one of the reasons why the situation in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina affected me so much. I know if my circumstance were different that could have been me in the superdome for over a week. Every black person needs to remind them self of that.So I call out to all the black kids from the suburbs for a helping hand. Give just a little bit of what you have. Show a black kid from the city what hard work and an education can do for you.

To Blog or Not to Blog

I started this blog way before I even considered having a myspace page. I've been using it so much I guess its time to upgrade a bit. I think for the next week or so I will copy and paste the best of Jessica's myspace blog until I get this one looking the way I want it to.