Daddy's Little Girl

You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

-John Mayer, Daughters

This might be two posts in one, but follow me down the rabbit hole anyway. So, last Sunday it was Children and Youth Day at the church I visited. The choir loft was at least 50 kids deep. So, when they sang one song, three girls shared the “solo” part. Two girls were older, maybe 8 or 9 years old, and the other girl was significantly younger and too cute! They would hand the little one the mic and she would sing her one line with all her heart. Everyone laughed and applauded. You know how we do. So, when they were finished, pastor calls the little girl down and asked, “How old are you?

“Three,” she said. More ooohs and ahhhs.
“You are so pretty. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” she said shyly.
“You did? Who told you you’re pretty,” he asked.
“My daddy,” she said. You could almost hear hearts breaking.
And then pastor asked the father to stand up. And when he did, he had the biggest grin on his face. “She got you wrapped around her finger,” pastor said.

Indeed. There is nothing like having a daddy who tells you that you are beautiful and makes you feel loved on a daily basis. I thank God for mine. And I wish more women had a father like mine. I know that having a father in the home, not having a father in the home, the kind of father you have (whether in the home or not) has an impact, both positive and negative, in so many areas of a woman’s life ranging from how they view themselves to how they interact with other men. Like Chris Rock said, “every man has dated a woman with daddy issues…”

Now this is where I go farther down into the hole, but stay with me. Awhile back when I lived in Atlanta, my friend and I were sitting at a bar of a restaurant named after a jewel and the day of week. They had great 2 for 1 drink specials. Can’t beat that with a bat. So, friend and I are drinking and there’s a group of guys next to us doing the same. So as drinkers are apt to do, we stuck up a conversation with one another. We learned that a majority of the men in the group were married. Rum Punch’s Disclaimer: There’s nothing wrong with a guys’ night out every now and then. End of Rum Punch’s Disclaimer But this was these men’s routine: drink with one another every night to avoid going home. How do I know? Because that’s what they said to us.

“I don’t want to go home. My wife nags me,” the chorus sang.
“Well maybe if you went home and didn’t leave her alone on the daily to raise the kids, feed the kids, wash they asses, help them with homework, put them to bed, she wouldn’t nag,” we said.

And then it was on like popcorn because these men had the nerve to use that tired line and say every man cheats. What? Not our daddies. Oh yes, your daddies too, they said. Those were fighting words. Because these men didn’t know about us. Word up Yonce. Or our daddies. We had daddies in our lives that came home every day on the regular, I mean same Batman time, same Batman place, regular. My homegirl’s daddy used to pick her up from school and make her soup and baked potato, or some “weird” combination that she loved, every.single.day.

I had to let them know that I don’t have any memories of my father coming home late after a night with the guys, missing the everyday moments of my brother and I growing up. What I remember is having dinners together as a family, him helping me with a science project, taking us kids for the day so my mom could get some rest. And I say this not to brag, but to make the point that even though I don’t know the intricacies of my parents’ marriage, growing up I learned and watched my father’s character and actions and they spoke volumes, and were louder than any words ever said. And you know this can work in reverse, right? Yeah... However, in terms of words spoken, my father always said that, “A man doesn’t have to cheat. He chooses to cheat. There is something called free will and self control.” Tabernacle, Synagogue! But as usual I digress...

The thing is that little girls (and sons too, but stay with me) need love from their daddy, regardless of if the father is in the home or not, regardless of the crazy baby mama who won’t “let” you see your child (that’s a post for a whole ‘nother day), regardless of if a man sees his child every weekend or every day. Certain things like knowing you are wanted and loved, feeling important, worthy and valued, can permeate no matter how hard someone tries to block it. And certain things can linger for too many years, like feelings of abandonment, of being unwanted and unloved, or not loved enough.

I had this post in mind before I realized that Father’s Day is this Sunday, but I’m glad it came to me. And I’m glad that last Sunday I saw that little girl and her daddy’s love. It gave me hope. It gave me encouragement. It made me smile. And it made me reminisce. Because despite all the negativity, the statistics, the mess we see and hear in the news and in our everyday lives, there are great men out here, getting the job done by being involved in their kids’ lives. So, if you know a man: your daddy, granddaddy, step daddy, uncle, cousin, baby daddy (I'm sorry father of your child), deacon, neighbor, friend, who is putting in the work to be a good father, tell him how much you appreciate him this Sunday (and of course everyday-but you know) And if you’re a father who is making sure your daughter knows her worth, well, Happy Father’s Day! And shout out to my daddy, the best daddy in the whole wide world who still tells me I’m beautiful! Everybody say awwwww...

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

asleep in sex education

When I was in high school I was deathly afraid of getting pregnant. While the thought still gives me chills since I’m still a ms. and not a mrs., I’d probably be able to handle it a little better now on the off-chance or freak accident that I did get preggers. Few things in life are guaranteed but one thing I know for sure is that you won’t catch mint julep saying out her mouth, damn ya’ll I’m pregnant, I can’t believe it, as a friend of mine said a couple weeks ago.

Like really, you don’t know how you got pregnant? Putting to one side the mechanics of the thing, how can one really be shocked that they end up pregnant in this day and age? Especially one who has been pregnant multiple times before. Now I’m not one to judge, well actually I am, silently in my head, but that’s neither here nor there. I’ve definitely been guilty of partaking of the goodness without a barrier, but I don’t make this a practice, especially not with someone who’s status I don’t know.

We are deep in the age of deadly STDs. AIDS ain’t new and syphilis, gonorrhea and herpes are running rampant especially in our communities. While he may not look like he got something, it stands to reason that with all these babies being born, there gots to be a whole lot of people going raw.

Mississippi gotdamn!

Although I’m technically celibate errr…again, I keeps my condoms (magnums, a girl can dream) handy and a supply of the morning after pill easily accessible. With all these implements at your disposal, you can’t tell me you surprised that you knocked up. Like mama julep say, “You can’t shit the shitter!”

Or she’d say, after I’d casually mentioned to her that so and so was pregnant or so and so had had another baby, “I don’t know why this girls [pregnant pause] be letting these NIGGAS, screw ‘em wit out a condom.” Then she’d lean in close, look me directly in the eye and say, “I know you want to have fun, get yo rocks off, but you betta MAKE these NIGGAS wear a condom, hell you don’t know what they got.”

Oh how me and my sister would be dying from laughter on the inside. Yet I wonder if and wish that more of my contemporaries had gotten the same straight talk from they mamas or thought more of themselves to listen during sex ed or figure it out along the way. For instance, at a gathering of some high school classmates recently, I was amazed at how many of the young ladies (and men) had babies and the size of some folks families. I could count on one hand how many are married or even engaged or even still wit baby daddy #1. Their kids are finishing elementary school while mine aren’t even a twinkle in their daddy’s eye. Hell, I’m not even a twinkle in their daddy’s eye, at least I don’t think. Tee hee.

I know children are a blessing. My niece is a gift who I can’t imagine my life without. But still. The paradigm has definitely shifted. I’m the unicorn in the room not just because I have no children but also because of my thoughts on the subject.

give him some!

I have had this topic in the back of mind for some time. Yet, the topic had been overtaken by events. And yet, when I saw the movie “Sex and the City” (don’t worry I won’t give it way to those of you who have yet to see the film) and the character Miranda didn’t give her husband any nookie in 6 months – I had a WTF moment. Get the fuck out of here. Why are you holding out giving him some? According to Miranda, her husband was a good lover and still attracted to her… well let’s just say shit happens and Miranda is dumbfounded by her husband’s actions – get the fuck out of here.

See ladies, Bellini believes you should give him some – and you wives know what kind of man you are married too. So, you know if you have a man who wants nookie all the time, just be’cuz, or whateva type he maybe. Now, Miranda’s excuse for not giving her man some was work? Huh? See, that lame ass excuse would have warranted no pity from me and believe me Carrie, Samantha, and Charlotte did not give her a pity party—and rightfully so. In case you are not aware, Miranda is a corporate attorney – so she utilized her occupation as a cop out. Ladies, who desire to be the kick-ass executive, doting wife, soccer mom, etc… If you want all those things, you must work  hard  at all those things. And you must be able to identify where you can slack off or if you can slack off? For me, once I’m a wife – I live by the creed home is where the heart is—thereby my husband, myself, etc. must all be happy.

Now, I understand we’re human, but you should never let your sanctuary become a foreign institution. I mean it. Bellini’s mama taught her well. My mother told me eons ago, that I would have to cook for my husband… and I got the message loud and clear and that is not an issue for me. Now , there are 3 F’s women are told to live by to keep their husband happy: Fuck him, Feed him, oops – I can’t think of the last F… but you get my point.

I ‘ve heard of that bull shit where women seek revenge on their man and opt to hold out and not give him some. Pick your battles wisely – ‘cuz that option might cause more drama in your home than it’s worth. Ladies we got it so give it and as long as he’s worth it – give him some!

cheers,


Bellini

Gooooo Team!

Now that I am a grown up girl thrown into the working world I’m subjected to do stuff on teams. Blah blah bluck to teamwork! I’m an only child, I can work quietly by myself, coloring in the lines and whistling whilst I work. Oh, but sometimes working in teams can just seem like a waste of life! I know teamwork is necessary and people are communal. No one person and do it all by their lonesome. But, some things should not take as long as they do. Not saying that I am a wham, bam, thank you ma’am, get your cash on your way out-type of person. But seriously, how long should it take to determine who our new water cooler supplier is going to be? In my mind one person could have scouted out some suppliers, thrown together a brief spreadsheet with cost comparisons, conferred with one other person about who it was going to be (which I did). End. Of. Story. Water Cooler breaks for all!

But Noooooo! I work for the government. I work with other people who are older, but not necessarily wiser, and maybe they enjoy wasting time because they will be retiring soon and very soon. And I guess it’s better to look busy than to actually be busy. But can I just say that we have been working on our water issue since February! There was snow on the ground and now it’s hot! I’ve already told them who would be the most beneficial (read: cheapest) but I’m under thirty so what do I know…and maybe it isn’t that I could be some of these people’s child, maybe these folks want to drag things on and on and on and on…the cipher keeps moving like a rolling stone.

And so I’m screaming on the train with Rum because this can not be my life for the next 30 years! Or even the next 3 years!

But since it is my life for the now, come share in my pain…

In January our regular water supplier decided to throw up their deuces because having water coolers is a thing of the past and they wanted to just distribute 24 packs of water to the world. So, since people in my office still gather around the water cooler to discuss the latest and greatest thing to happen on American Idol, there was a need to keep the good times rolling. So I got my Google on, read some things, threw an Excel spreadsheet together and determined a winner, because back then I was just promoted. But they weren’t ready for that level of initiative so….

First a meeting was called and brainstorming commenced-I really don’t recall the particulars of this meeting because I was perfecting my poodle doodle on my note pad.

Then a few of my co-“workers” volunteered to head up the water probing expedition and they drafted me to be on the team. Yay, I wasn’t picked last! But think Lewis and Clark with me playing the role of Sacajawea.

Then I bring to my team my fact findings and lay them at their feet. They pat me on my head and say good job and send me on my way.

Then another meeting is scheduled to update the department on water. My team lead states that we have been diligent with our efforts, but still have not been able to secure a supplier or a contract. Hmmm. Okay. If only that were true, I muse as I doodle a duck to play with my poodle near a pond on my note pad.

And that ladies and gentleman is where we are today…in June! I think another meeting is scheduled for July…and as you can see I’m typing a blog whilst I drink a Micky D’s Sweet tea at my desk…

For the most part teamwork has always left a bad taste in my mouth. Think sour milk on wheat germ cereal. Because either the team slows you up by holding you down…or they don’t do a darn thing to contribute to your work and effort! But they are first smile for the accolades. Either way I have yet to be part of a team that didn’t leave me frustrated in the process. Is it me? Ha ha ha. Bless my soul.

Or is it everyone else?

See You In Seven

Tryin to Make a Dollar Outta Seven Cents

For a small piece of paper it carries a lot of weight

Call it lean, mean, mean green

Almighty dollar

I know money is the root of all evil

Do funny things to some people

Give me a nickel, brother can you spare a dime

Money can drive some people out of their minds

- For the Love of Money, Ojays

Times are a bit hard right now. People of every race, creed, and socio-economic status are feeling the sting of the our economy's current state. The "experts" have finally admitted what us regular folks' pockets told us months ago: we're in a recession.

My dollars just ain't stretchin' like they used to. And I am quite the expert at making a small amount of my money work big for me. Clipping coupons, shopping at discount retail outlets, carpooling, and conserving energy (to keep utility costs low) are just a few of the budget savers that I incorporated into my daily life long ago to help me hold on to a few extra dollars. But the tricks of the trade aren't paying off like they used to. There's a global food shortage crisis, gas prices are effin' expensive, the national unemployment rate recently increased at a record rate, our nation is in humongous debt and we're being taxed everywhere to help re-pay it. And if I hear about one more celebrity going into foreclosure... Like I give a damn! I'm a hard working thousandaire trying to pay my own mortgage on time. I could care less about Britney Spears or Ed McMahon losing their mansions.

The bottom line is I don't need Dow Jones to tell me that the almighty dollar ain't what it used to be. The only thing mean these days is just how lean the green is. You know the saying about desperate times... It's only a matter of time before you start seeing clips of folks brawling at the gas station. A couple of days ago, I saw two women buck at each other over who arrived first and who's turn it was to pump their gas. It was not pretty. Watching them made me ask myself how has this weak ass dollar affected me and my everyday life?

• No more specialty shower gels and bubble baths. They are not cheap and never have been. A bar of soap will clean me just the same. I shall leave it to the lotion to make my skin soft.


• No more paying bills by mailing in payment. Stamps add up, quickly. And they just went up another cent. Online bill payment is quick, easy, environmentally friendly, and FREE.


• Only buying food for one or two meals at a time. I realized how much food I waste on a weekly basis because I could not eat it fast enough before it went bad. Being a single housewife on the run, I don't spend a lot of time at home. I started buying 8 eggs vs. 12, smaller sized milk cartons, 2 apples instead of 4, etc...


• No more cover charges to enter a club or lounge. This has always been a personal rule of thumb, but I was willing to bend it if I felt that a specific occasion or event was worth it. Today, none of them are worth it. If there is a cover, I will party somewhere else.


• Making bus transfers. I don't own a car, so riding the train and bus is part of daily life. The bus is $1.25; when you board you get paper (or electronic) transfer that is valid for two hours of riding. I take an expired transfer with the current date and glue it on top of a transfer from a past date that has more "time" on it. Thus allowing me to ride all day without paying the all day fee ($3.00). Yes it's illegal, so don't tell nobody.


• Happy Hour chez Dark & Stormy. If me and the ladies are hitting the town for a night of fun, I get the party started at home. One drink at the club = a six pack at home. And my chicken wings taste better than theirs anyway. By the time I arrive to our destination, I'm ready for a coke and a dance.

The Ojays said don't let money change you. Always easier said than done.

Has the lean green changed your ways at all?

Tumultuously Yours,

Dark & Stormy