SO LONG, FAREWELL...
Friday, June 12, 2009
However, throughout the film, it would appear that Ms. Kerry can do nothing for herself. She is helpless, hapless and from where I sit pretty much useless. She can't get a job on her own and asks him to be reference. Forget the fact that they haven't seen each other in years. Or that it was for a basic hostess position. She can't move out her ex-boyfriend's apartment by herself and asks Chris to accompany her on a quick trip from NYC to DC. More drama happens. She can't find a place that she's going to have to live in by herself, on her own. She doesn't know how to spend her days by herself and makes drive by visits to his office to pass the time or get taken to lunch.While the underlying reason for all this is because she's a lil huzzy who is playing the 'let's see how long it takes to get him to fcuk me' game, let's focus on her lack of want or desire to do for self.
Now while I try to shun all labels, unless they come on purses or shoes, I do like to think that I'm a relatively independent Black woman. Not on some, "I don't need no man, I can do bad all by myself" type mess. But also not on some, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers," type craziness either. But falling somewhere in between. I will ask a male friend to move that heavy couch, kill that bug, or change that flat tire. But if ain't none available, and it's just me and the ladies, I guess we better get to lifting, squashing and changing. Or at least calling AAA. Or this place. It's not that I despise women who can't do for self. I mean, hey who am I to knock your hustle? Your livelihood. But it does tend to irk. And annoy. And if Mint Julep was tellin ho's to sit down yesterday, well these type of chicks make me wanna yell, "ho, stand on your own two!"
Like for real. This independentphobe, (yes look it up, it's the antonym to commitmentphobe,) behavior is pretty hard to watch. A woman who always needs a man. And will take any man. A single man. A cute man. A chunky man with low self esteem. An old man with a pension. Yo man. Needs, begs, demands someone to help her with any and everything, including the seemingly simple things in life. And I wanna be like, "daggone it, if I had to master these tasks, you should learn how to as well!" I mean for the love of all that is righteous and holy, ladies can we please put our pennies together and open a vocational school, to teach these chicks that it's about time they learned how to take care of number one? Cause when it's all said and done, that's all you got. All that's promised from now until your last day. And then once that fundamental truth is taught, have them sign up to take other classes like:
1. I Get So Lonely: How to Live on Your Own and Enjoy It! A step-by-step guide on how to find your own place, pay your own rent, and then enjoy your own company.
2. Throw Your Hands Up At Me: Take Pride in Doing Things on Your Own!
3. I-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t, Do You Know What That Mean Wo-man? Learn How To Be With These 5 Easy Steps!
4. I Am Woman Hear Me Roar: Learning How to Read the Instructions and then Put Together Your Own Furniture! - A Hands On Class
5. At Your Best: You are Love(ly) On Your Own.
That's my time y'all! Happy Rum Punch Friay!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
now this is not directed at all the ladies, just the ones who exhibit the following behavior. while the title of this post may suggest otherwise, every woman who exhibits said behavior is not a ho per se. i just like foolish and ridiculous southern rap songs that provide an extra special exclamation point to my posts.
let the truthtelling commence.
as i've said before i love love. i fully support being boo'ed up, for whatever reason said parties wish to be boo'ed up. i will support my homegirl when she decides to get a little closer to a guy who may or may not be good enough for her. i will listen when my sister shares with me how much she likes her new man friend and i will be that shoulder when he dun dun her wrong.
but ladies, sisters and gentlewomen, what's not fina happen is you invoking your boo's name every 5 seconds in otherwise unrelated conversations just for the sake of sending your man's name into the atmosphere.
i can not and will not.
here's how you tell if ya homegirl has exceeded the limits of sisterly relationship support and overdosed on the D:
1. when you're with your chica at some generic place, say a backyard bbq, an afterwork cocktail party, or chillin at the crib, where it's not just you and her having a heart to heart about something serious, look at your watch. note the time. and then count how many times she says her man's name in a 10 minute time period without you first inquiring about his ass or even talking about love, relationships or making babies. if that number exceeds 5, HO SIT DOWN.
2. if you haven't yet met her new dude but you know his favorite colors, his favorite foods and his favorite hip hop song of all time and they only been datin 2 days, please, HO SIT DOWN.
3. if your conversations with her go something like this:
mj: girl did you hear how kanye west broke up with that stripper chic amber rose. he so extra aint it? hasn't been right since his mama died.
her: i know right, my boo told me that last night. kanye need to deal with them demons. my boo say that's why he made 808's and heartbreak, cause his mama died. my boo be knowin girl.
mj: look, the sky is blue.
ho: my boo's favorite color is blue.
mj: oh snap, my mama just died.
ho: ohh no, i'm so sorry to hear that, you know my boo mama died last year so he know how you feel.
HO SIT DOWN!
and SHUT UP BOUT YO BOO.
enough. we get it. you boo'd up. congratulations! i don't need to hear about him and his predilections every 5 minutes. me and you are cool but i really don't need to know what he thinks about the global environmental crisis. you're dating him, i am not . keep some thangs to yourself.
the problem iswomen who are like this rarely ever realize they annoy the shit out of everyone around them. i overstand the excitement of dating someone new or being overjoyed about the (new) love of your life. i might shoulda been told to sit the hell down a few times or two in the past. but lately i've run across a few ladies that needed to be sat down and realized just how sickening it is from the outside lookin in.
you shouldn't surrender all your thoughts and opinions for those of your SO's. and you certainly shouldn't drop his name every five seconds like he invented the spanx. like he ghost-wrote death of auto-tune. just don't. HO SIT DOWN.
please and thank you.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
During her media blitz to market her book Resilience: Reflections on the Burdens and Gifts of Facing Life's Adversities, you just couldn’t escape her ass. I remember one evening in the gym getting’ it in burning those calories on the treadmill and there she was on CNN courtesy of Larry King. And Larry was goin’ for the jugular and rightly so… don’t think you can come on national television and not be intimately questioned. She was prepared – I’m sure courtesy of her media squad. But, I couldn’t help but wonder what a private person as she claimed to be wrote a book, on the heels of public infidelity in her marriage knowing full well the voyuers are watching…
But then I find myself on a subsequent Saturday obtaining a mani and pedi, when my manicurist handed me Lady O. And lo and behold, as I thumb through pages and land on the contents, she’s there. Elizabeth – you’re everywhere!?!... Oh, and inquiring minds want to know – what else can Bellini find out that she hasn’t heard already. As the transcripts of the interview are printed and I read along… I find myself pitying Elizabeth. Say what you want about Oprah, but she knows how to probe her subjects.
So, Lady O asks “What man holds a baby in the middle of the night, when the baby isn’t his?” Go O, Go O! see, Larry wasn’t smart enough to ask such a question. And Elizabeth quips, “I won’t acknowledge that woman.” Huh? Elizabeth, hurry up and find out if that baby is Johns – so your children know whether they have and additional sister and how ya’ll gonna divvy up assets.
Now, there’s much more I could say. But I won’t. I know that this infidelity thing plaguing marriages has me perplexed. Partially, because I don’t understand the reactions of some of these women. However, who am I to judge. In reading Lady O, I found Elizabeth is really a conflicted soul. And perhaps, all women -- victim of infidelity -- really are just that. How can I not pity that?
P.S. ... Elizabeth asserts that the reason for writing her book is because she already had the book deal and she wasn't gonna let the mistress stop her life. Oh, and the infidelity is an aspect of the book -- not the focal point.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The thing about women is that we are wonderfully complex emotional beings. So in a word, we’re AWESOME! But because of our complexities, we are at times one good hormonal imbalance or “Oh no he didn’t” away from yielding all sane and rational thought to the Crazy Chick (CeCe) that lies within. And no matter if a woman is Ms. Independent, educated in the finest halls of academia and can write a good check with a whole bunch or zeroes; or if she’s Ms. Ghetto Fabulous who learned her way through the streets and the system…every woman has a CeCe deep inside her, who can show up and show out when she feels it’s necessary. The annoying part about women folk is that sometimes it isn’t necessary to summon the power of CeCe.
Ladies, please leave CeCe chillin’ deep inside when:
* It’s Sunday after church You’re hungry. You want fried chicken. Popeye’s has run out. Sure it doesn’t make sense that a chicken establishment has run out of chicken, especially since they should have known you were coming for your two piece and a biscuit. But they did. CeCe doesn’t have to come out and tell little Tawanna working the register that she and her whole family are booty scratchers from Africa. That just ain’t necessary ladies. A simple eye roll and head shake will do (resist the temptation to suck your teeth). You can go someplace else and write a letter to the district manager when you get home…you might get a free meal out of it! If CeCe is running things, you’ll probably just get a police escort out of the facility cause little Tawanna has her own CeCe who doesn’t play that!
* After a nice dinner Instead of going to the movies, your man suggests taking a nice walk around the neighborhood. Now true you really wanted to see the latest Tyler Perry flick, but girl stop playing yourself, you know you could lose a pound or two. How long did it take you to button your skin tight apple bottom jeans? And now it hurts when you laugh and breathe. So he ain’t ready for you to get all “What you trying to say Ray-Ray?” on him. You don’t have to talk about his big breasted momma or ask him when his baby is due. Tell CeCe to chill, there’s no reason for you to bust out crying because you think Ray-Ray is calling you a fat-a$$. It’s quality time with your man, stop being insecure and enjoy the physical activity.
* You’re at work Some coworkers are talking about a crime committed in the community that you live and how it’s a shame that those people continue to do that to each other. Now you know that they live in far out west bubble and therefore are not qualified to speak on the subject. Now this is tricky because every CeCe believes in educating the ignorant but because you are in the workplace CeCe is going to have to fall back due to her tendency to raise your voice and cause involuntarily finger snapping and neck rolling. This may scare your coworkers so much that they won’t be able to hear you preach the truth that they don’t know nothing about nothing. Instead, after moving past their audacity you can casually mention that you reside in that neighborhood and there are a lot of good people who live there. Or if you don’t want those mothasuckas in your business, you could just say that crime is spreading all over the place, even in far out west bubble, smile and then walk away.
Now don't get me wrong, there are times when the power of CeCe is necessary! But I feel women as a whole need to just take a moment to breathe before they speak or lodge that brick between their man’s windshield. As my friend said, it annoys her when women, under the guise of keeping it real, lose tact and feel that they have the right to always tell it like it T-I-Tis. Not so ladies, not so. Even when you know in your soul you are right, use your inner CeCe only when necessary. Don’t lose yourself in her power, afterall that heffa is crazy!
See You In Seven
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Remy Ma - Conceited (There's Something About Remy)
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