I have spent the last two weekends surrounded by women. Two weeks I ago I went to Atlanta for my college reunion. All ladies. Well there were men there for entertainment purposes. Cause you know we need some eye candy. But when we did our ritual/traditional stuff: dressing in all white and leading the new graduates under the sacred arch, traveling down memory lane at our annual banquet, singing our school song, it was all about the sisterhood.
Last weekend I was at a women’s prayer retreat surrounded by true women of God. I’m talking about some serious prayer warriors. I’m talking about women who done seen some things, had some troubles, been on the brink of debt, despair, and death, and are still down with G-O-D! Imagine 2 ½ days of a bunch of singing, praisin & prayin women, the West Virginia mountains, and JESUS! Yeah it’s pretty powerful stuff.
These two experiences made me remember how much I love being around women. I never understood when a woman says, “I don’t like to hang around females that much. All my friends are guys.” Something in that statement makes me raise my eyebrows and cock my head to one side so I can get a better look at this chick. And I realize that they have never known the wonderfulness that is being surrounded by bout it, bout it women.
I mean obviously I love men. I need them for stuff. Lifting heavy objects, killing bugs, procreation. And conversation and such (I am not that shallow). But I do believe in the collective power of women. I have seen what women can do when we are leaders, working together for the greater good. I have heard from people (men mostly) that you can’t put a bunch of women in a room together because they won’t get along. Pish posh and pishaw I say. And then this leads me back to the question that has been reverberating in my mind: who are these chicks? Obviously men aren’t pulling these statements out of thin air. Something has led them to this conclusion. They must have seen such disagreements occur. Or they have been fought over by two silly women who don't realize he ain't worth it. Or they have learned how to artfully play women without repurcussion.
These chicks need to be learned about what a group of women can do when we put our minds to it. Seriously, all women need to get on the same program. Think of what would happen if we single women all agreed to close our legs, brought men to their knees, and made them get them get their act together What if we all agreed to keep our hands to ourselves and not mess with someone else’s man or husband? What if we were committed to looking out for each other? Oh man! The power that women possess when working together. It would be awesome. But it would also mean that we would have to really have that Come to Jesus meeting I've been calling for. And I mean all of us. Even the ones we give the side eye to when they come into the club with all their stuff on display. Even the ones we think are beyond help. They just haven't learned the deal! And you only know what you know. So the meeting will be December 31, 2008, so we can start the New Year off right! Raise your hand if you’ll be able to attend!
That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!
SO LONG, FAREWELL...
The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
....what yo man got to do wit me?
So the other day, I was waiting in line at this seafood spot around the corner from my new job. And behind me was this dude who looked to also be on his lunch break. I could tell he was checkin me out, cause I’m just so fantabolous. In my head I’m thinking ok….wait for it….wait for it…..5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
Him: What school you go to? I think we went to high school together.
Me: ….ummmm no. I didn’t go to school here.
Him: Oh really cause you look so familiar.
Then he proceeds to ask me where I’m from, what I do, etc. and tries to close the deal with, so can I call you sometime?
Needless to say, I was not interested. I mean there were gold fronts involved so no.... just not interested. But in situations like this, I find it hard to just say that. Mainly because I am too nice. I smile at people on the street. I say hi to complete strangers. And I have a hard time being mean and/or rejecting men.
But really what do I owe strange men on the street? Not a ting, not a ting. Yet something in me won’t allow me to say those magic words, NO, I’M NOT INTERESTED. Chalk it up to the time I asked a certain boy to prom in a round about way and came up with less than favorable results. Those wounds are still healing.
Instead I say stuff like, I got a man, let me take your number and…. Well that’s about all I got. Seeing as how I’m living in the murda cappy where niggas be trigga happy (c) lil wayne, I guess I’ll stick with these defaults, unless ye fine readers o’ the view from here have any more suggestions, and by suggestions I mean any funny, witty, nasty, and/or hateful things you say to shoot down would-be suitors or suitettes.
what say you?
Him: What school you go to? I think we went to high school together.
Me: ….ummmm no. I didn’t go to school here.
Him: Oh really cause you look so familiar.
Then he proceeds to ask me where I’m from, what I do, etc. and tries to close the deal with, so can I call you sometime?
Needless to say, I was not interested. I mean there were gold fronts involved so no.... just not interested. But in situations like this, I find it hard to just say that. Mainly because I am too nice. I smile at people on the street. I say hi to complete strangers. And I have a hard time being mean and/or rejecting men.
But really what do I owe strange men on the street? Not a ting, not a ting. Yet something in me won’t allow me to say those magic words, NO, I’M NOT INTERESTED. Chalk it up to the time I asked a certain boy to prom in a round about way and came up with less than favorable results. Those wounds are still healing.
Instead I say stuff like, I got a man, let me take your number and…. Well that’s about all I got. Seeing as how I’m living in the murda cappy where niggas be trigga happy (c) lil wayne, I guess I’ll stick with these defaults, unless ye fine readers o’ the view from here have any more suggestions, and by suggestions I mean any funny, witty, nasty, and/or hateful things you say to shoot down would-be suitors or suitettes.
what say you?
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
seething in silence
I knew beforehand that that the 2008 presidential races would get ugly -- guaranteed. With a black guy as a presumptive nominee -- it means all hell is breaking loose. So the latest gaffes come with a surprise or do they ? However, just because it was expected for Americans to show their ass it doesn't mean it's right. I'm offended by name butchery, monkey t-shirts, assasination references, etc. I mean who am i fooling -- Americans don't get high marks for being class acts. But, I did expect decency. Is that too much to ask?
Are folks making assasination attempts on Hillary or John? And for Mike (Huckabee -- of course) to utter the most stupid ass comment in regards to an assisanition attempt on Barack's life is incredulous. A friend of mine in law enforcement continues to remind the security risk associated with Barack is a nightmare. The most unsettling factors for him is Barack's formidable presence in drawing huge crowds -- nerves are beyond fried. Now I will be one to admit, the Hillary Nutcracker madness wasn't right. And neither is her madness to change the play at the last inning.
Figuring out what to do with Florida is Michigan should not be problematic, but if Hillary and her acolytes have her way they can pursue legal loopholes with the DNC (Democratic National Committee) that could uphold or undermine the Democratic candidate until August. Pure madness. Who would have thought shit would have gotten so complicated. Oh, and it was Chris Rock who said No one heard of a superdelegate, until a black guy could actually win. Damn.
cheers,
Bellini
Are folks making assasination attempts on Hillary or John? And for Mike (Huckabee -- of course) to utter the most stupid ass comment in regards to an assisanition attempt on Barack's life is incredulous. A friend of mine in law enforcement continues to remind the security risk associated with Barack is a nightmare. The most unsettling factors for him is Barack's formidable presence in drawing huge crowds -- nerves are beyond fried. Now I will be one to admit, the Hillary Nutcracker madness wasn't right. And neither is her madness to change the play at the last inning.
Figuring out what to do with Florida is Michigan should not be problematic, but if Hillary and her acolytes have her way they can pursue legal loopholes with the DNC (Democratic National Committee) that could uphold or undermine the Democratic candidate until August. Pure madness. Who would have thought shit would have gotten so complicated. Oh, and it was Chris Rock who said No one heard of a superdelegate, until a black guy could actually win. Damn.
cheers,
Bellini
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Something Wicked This Way Comes
As the three witches stood around their cauldron during the opening scene of Macbeth they sensed some of the things that were to befall Macbeth as the next king of Scotland. Sometimes I wish that there was a way that I could know before hand the things (specifically the bad evil ones) that would befall me, without say calling a psychic friend or paying to have my palm read…
“Hello, Ms. Cleo? Tell me my future. What? Why are you asking me what my name is, don’t you know? You’re the psychic!”
I mean, wouldn’t it just be nice to know on Monday morning instead of Friday afternoon that you are going to get fired? Or maybe if you had known that Pookie and ‘em were going to rob you could have made sure you got insurance for that 51” plasma. And how many would be baby mama drama free today if they had known before, that ole girl hadn’t been taken her birth control like she swore she had? Aaaah yes. Life would be a tad easier and breezier if we could know such things. But since we don’t, we get to have interesting stories to tell, and things to complain about.
And so without further ado, I will step on my soapbox to complain about the crappy service I received last night. I feel that had I known before hand that all the wait staff had been replaced with some of the seven dwarfs Grumpy, Dopey and Lazy and a few of their cousins, Stanky and Cranky I would not have dined there. I mean, waiters still work for tips right? It would behoove them the make me happy instead of have me wondering if I had offended them or dreaming about the good ole days when folks still gave a damn.
How many of ya’ll know that Ghettofication is just as rampant as gentrification? While gentrification believes it makes places safer by robbing the poor because the rich can afford the higher taxes and better schools. Ghettofication just makes you wonder what the hell? Ghettofication makes you question if the rules of professionalism decided to just throw up the deuces and rule. Ghettofication makes you wonder if decency was somehow changed to “I don’t give a fcuk” when you decided to patron the establishment.
Not sure if you have been a victim of Ghettofication? Here are some helpful ways to recognize it while dining out on the town…
Ghettofication means You Learn to Wait
My friend and I were seated near the back of the restaurant and had to wait at least 10 minutes to get a “’sup ya’ll” as the wait staff sniggled and giggled in about sex, drugs and rock-n-roll (read: why they love Lil Wayne’s Lollipop).
Ghettofication means You have to Become a Camel
Anyone who dines with me will know that I love soda, I like my glass full and bubbly. Meaning I have to be refilled regularly throughout the meal. Not just at the end when you bring the check.
Ghettofication means no one has to say "I’m Sorry"
So yeah, my friend and I ordered basic American fare (ie Hamburgers and French Fries). Things that came to our table included entrée salads and soup. When informing the waiter extraordinaire that this was not what I ordered. I was stared at, blankly, like I was inconveniencing them.
Ghettofication means that I’m getting something for free once I have it out with your manager! It also means I ain’t leaving no tip! I will not stand for this. I will not reinforce wicked behavior…Ghettofication is present in other places! It inhabits all sorts of people, some types more acutely! Beware!
*stepping off soapbox, smoothing out skirt, pulling back hair*
See You In Seven
“Hello, Ms. Cleo? Tell me my future. What? Why are you asking me what my name is, don’t you know? You’re the psychic!”
I mean, wouldn’t it just be nice to know on Monday morning instead of Friday afternoon that you are going to get fired? Or maybe if you had known that Pookie and ‘em were going to rob you could have made sure you got insurance for that 51” plasma. And how many would be baby mama drama free today if they had known before, that ole girl hadn’t been taken her birth control like she swore she had? Aaaah yes. Life would be a tad easier and breezier if we could know such things. But since we don’t, we get to have interesting stories to tell, and things to complain about.
And so without further ado, I will step on my soapbox to complain about the crappy service I received last night. I feel that had I known before hand that all the wait staff had been replaced with some of the seven dwarfs Grumpy, Dopey and Lazy and a few of their cousins, Stanky and Cranky I would not have dined there. I mean, waiters still work for tips right? It would behoove them the make me happy instead of have me wondering if I had offended them or dreaming about the good ole days when folks still gave a damn.
How many of ya’ll know that Ghettofication is just as rampant as gentrification? While gentrification believes it makes places safer by robbing the poor because the rich can afford the higher taxes and better schools. Ghettofication just makes you wonder what the hell? Ghettofication makes you question if the rules of professionalism decided to just throw up the deuces and rule. Ghettofication makes you wonder if decency was somehow changed to “I don’t give a fcuk” when you decided to patron the establishment.
Not sure if you have been a victim of Ghettofication? Here are some helpful ways to recognize it while dining out on the town…
Ghettofication means You Learn to Wait
My friend and I were seated near the back of the restaurant and had to wait at least 10 minutes to get a “’sup ya’ll” as the wait staff sniggled and giggled in about sex, drugs and rock-n-roll (read: why they love Lil Wayne’s Lollipop).
Ghettofication means You have to Become a Camel
Anyone who dines with me will know that I love soda, I like my glass full and bubbly. Meaning I have to be refilled regularly throughout the meal. Not just at the end when you bring the check.
Ghettofication means no one has to say "I’m Sorry"
So yeah, my friend and I ordered basic American fare (ie Hamburgers and French Fries). Things that came to our table included entrée salads and soup. When informing the waiter extraordinaire that this was not what I ordered. I was stared at, blankly, like I was inconveniencing them.
Ghettofication means that I’m getting something for free once I have it out with your manager! It also means I ain’t leaving no tip! I will not stand for this. I will not reinforce wicked behavior…Ghettofication is present in other places! It inhabits all sorts of people, some types more acutely! Beware!
*stepping off soapbox, smoothing out skirt, pulling back hair*
See You In Seven
Monday, May 26, 2008
Summer Is Here... Almost
I hope you are enjoying your long holiday weekend. Even though summer is about four weeks away, we all know Memorial Day is the unofficial jumpoff for the season. I've had a weekend full of barbequed goodies, cocktails served in plastic red cups, and parties all over the city.
And now I lay me down to sleep.
** Summoning Mr. Sandman**
Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy
And now I lay me down to sleep.
** Summoning Mr. Sandman**
Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy
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