i am not my hair... but if i was i'd be flyy. lol.

on a hot day in detroit, a group of young black women around 18-20 enter the local beauty supply store, chattering about who's kid was bad, what dress they're wearing to the club tonight, and how one of their nails needs to be redone.

i enter shortly after them, wearing my typical summer outfit of shorts, american eagle flip-flops, and a tank top. my hair has been washed and left to do what it may. it's chosen state is a curly/kinky/twirly/wavy type fro thing. i walk to the aisle that holds the conditioner i came in to get, humming beyonce's remake of wishing on a star, which happens to be my musical obsession right now, when i'm not listening to anthony david, of course.

two of the girls stop talking, eye me up and down, check out my french pedicure. follow it all the way up to my fro. i'm feeling good, having a good day, so i offer a small smile. only one half-smiles back.

as i walk past, i hear one of them say "her hair is so cute."

i'm guessing it's the one who smiled. seeing as though my aisle is close to where they are all standing checking out different textures of braiding hair to get, i can pretty much hear all they say.

another one immediately responds. "yeah it is. but she probably got some kinda curl, or texturizer in it to make it do that."

yet another adds, "whatever. that is a fro. i wish i would be out in public looking like that."

i turn my head. look at them. a few of them snicker.

"that's why she heard your loud ass." one says.

"i don't care. she know she look a hot ass mess. curl or not, that sh*t ain't poppin."

i look at them again, then turn and walk further down the aisle, away from them.

at the door, a guy walks in. young guy, about 19 or so. he looks at the women as he walks by, glances at a behind or two once he passes them. they all stare him down amorously. he's a little cutie. way too young for me, but still, cute. he comes down my aisle, smiles at me.

"i like your hair." he says as he passes.

i smile. "thank you."

the girls are instantly a chorus of rolling eyes.

when i make my way up to the counter, the asian lady ringing me up studies my head, hard.

"what kind of hair is that?" she says, squinting and leaning to get a better look.

"umm, natural? this is my hair..." i say, a little confused.

"noo no. that's not your hair. that's your hair?" the lady says, still studying.

"yep." i say. "i just don't have a perm. that's all."

"wow. that's so beautiful!! i wish my hair could do that. we pay good money for our hair to be like that." she says, speaking of the afro perms i''ve seen that are so popular in korea.

i smile, say thank you.

two of the girls from the group are behind me, listening and waiting to be checked out.

i turn to leave the beauty supply after paying, glad my good mood wasn't ruined by those girls. before i can make it out the door, one of them stops me.

"excuse me, what do you use in your hair? how long did it take you to get it like that?"

i tell her what products i use, give her some healthy hair info, and write down nappturality.com on a piece of paper for her. she gratefully takes it and compliments my curly/twirly/kinky/wavy fro.

i walk out, humming wishing on a star, and thinking that i just might have converted one.

go nappy girls, go.

haha.


hope all is fab and flyy people.

pretty girl fairy tales, and other randomness

*i have to stop believing in fairy tales. seems they never come true and even when they do, you get a hot blast of reality that cinderella never had to deal with. maybe i am no princess like daddy always told me. maybe there is no prince charming. i believe there is though. i have to believe it. he may not be perfect, but no one is. i know i'm far from it. i don't want perfection. maybe he is a prince almost-charming. maybe i've already got him. maybe i don't. i guess time will tell.

*funny when your mind or heart is worried, it is so intensely piercing that everything else just kind of drops out into the blurry distance. you see the mouths moving. you sometimes even catch a piece of what they're saying. but they're just noise. they can't penetrate the cloud of frustration. you end up with more people mad at you. angry that you have too many issues of your own to sit and talk their's through with them at two in the morning. and when you do, you are at a loss for words when your opinion is asked.

*the mission to find a car has reached an all-time high. honestly i don't care what kind it is at this point, i just want something reliable that isn't a jalopy. like seriously, getting rides sucks fat sweaty balls... in 90-degree weather. it does.

*i have good friends. the kind that you can tell almost anything to and not worry about it being spread around the city. the type that will sit and listen to you cry and gripe about something six days in a row, even when you both know that the minute the conflict is over, you will be there, right back in the very hailstorm that caused your tears. good friends don't throw things up in your face, though.

*why is it that men think if you have curly hair then you are not a 'regular' black girl? and what does a 'regular' black girl look like? i'm going to take a picture of what i look like today. then i'm going to post it. in the summer time, i get a nice bronze tan. i love it. i wear my hair wild and curly. i also love that. but what i DON'T love is being asked every day by some dude "you from the islands, right?" or "you don't look like a 'regular' black girl, what are you?"

ugh. and i'm not even biracial. my father is, i'm not. i don't look like anything but a black woman. geesh. i can only imagine what some other women go through. i don't understand the obsession with the 'exotic'. i mean, they are actually disappointed when i say i am from michigan. lol. if they even get that much conversation from me.

*i was once told that i have the 'pretty girl syndrome', meaning that i am used to getting my way just based on how i look, and when i don't, i get upset. he always said that, and it irritated me to no end. i would get offended, argue about how i was nice and sweet and he was just being mean just to be mean.

... seems i was making his point now that i think about it. ha.

honestly though, i didn't realize this until yesterday. maybe i do have this 'syndrome' he spoke of. the characteristics associated with it that he used to yell out so pointedly, were confirmed yesterday. it made me look at myself in the mirror. am i really this spoiled? sadly, i am. my defense has always been, "well, who doesn't want what they want when they want it?" it's pretty terrible, the ways in which you act and expect people to treat you, just because you are used to it.

i am not saying that i am a b*tch. in no way am i that. i'm actually the coolest person i know. lol. but when it comes to men, i have come to realize that i DO expect them to act a certain way towards me, and when they don't, i don't know how to handle it.

i've seen worse though. much worse.

example: myself and three of my close friends went to Friday's a few weeks back. Friday's has become a sort of hangout for those that want to see and be seen, no longer just a casual neighborhood restaurant. my friends go all the time, it's like their second home. me, i accompany them ever so often. i'm not one for crowds all the time.

my friends are pretty. all of them. so of course, as soon as we sat down at a table by the bar, the men started looking. winking. and sometimes all out staring. before you knew it, all my friends had drinks that they didn't open their wallets for. i don't drink, so i nursed my water like i always do. we ordered at least twenty dollars worth of food each, and sat there eating, talking and having a grand ol time, of course with a continuous stream of "damn, baby" and "what's your name?" and "you got a man?" from the passers-by and sitters-close.

when the bill came, everyone had cash but me. of course the one who works at a bank never carries cash. so, i pulled out my debit card, and handed it to the waitress. just as she walked away, i got up to go to the bathroom. no more than three steps later, a man, dressed nice, about an inch or two taller than me (i had on heels too, so i guess he was tall), bald with a goatee (don't ask me why his description is important. lol) walked up to me casually.

him: "hey, how are you? can i talk to you for a second?"

i was in no mood to speak to any man about if i had a man, or could i have friends, or where we were going after we left here. men are so predictable and unoriginal. i was slightly irritated that he chose me instead of the table i had just left.

me: "what about?"

him: "well, i think you are gorgeous. wanna get to know you."

me: "thank you. but i have a boyfriend."

he looked slightly disappointed. i was glad he didn't go the 'can you have friends?' route.

him: "well, you're sitting at that table right? how much was the bill. you can at least let me buy you all dinner."

i looked at him incredulously. why would he want to buy us dinner? i for one am uncomfortable accepting things from men. my mother always told me nothing in the world is free. nothing. so, i've always been like that. leery.

me: "why?"

him: "four beautiful women do not need to be paying for their own meals, ever."

it was quite astounding. this man willing to pay for our dinners, knowing i wasn't going to give him my number or anymore of my time after this night. i said nothing, just turned and walked back to our table. my friends smiled at me, assessed him with the up and down. he was a cutie.

me: "this guy wants to pay for our meals. he wants to know how much the bill was."

i said that thinking that my friends would all ring out in a chorus of laughs, or at least ask why this stranger wanted to pay our 85 dollar tab.

they didn't though. just smiled, said the amount, and said thank you. the man pulled out five twenties and gave them to me.

him: "you ladies have a nice night. stay fine."

we all watched him walk away, then simultaneously they all started laughing hysterically. i divvied all of their cash back out to them, and we boxed up our food and left. i was bewildered. i have had men offer me things of course. but 100 dollars for nothing? didn't make sense to me at all.

me: "did i just see that? did he really just pay for our meal for no reason?"

my friend: "look at us, woman. he had a reason. we're not supposed to pay for anything."


... guess i'm not the only one with this 'syndrome', huh?

i'm going to change the spoiled behavior though. it's not becoming.

it is said the first step is admitting you have a problem.

see? i'm improving already.

hope all is fab and flyy. *smiles*

the envy of the world

"To be born a black male in America is to be put into shackles and then challenged to escape." -Ellis Cose - The Envy of the World



we complain.

yell. harass. drag their name through the mud and dog them out to our friends and their children.

when we think we've been wronged, we get bitter. angry and outright mean.

then we wonder why they don't trust enough to open up to us.

"girl... you know he ain't shit. never gon' be shit."

... then we wonder.

i am saddened by the phenomenon that is the whole black women against black men thing. i just don't get it. why are we one of the only communities that can't work together? can't love. grow. heal. together?

and i know, i know the rebuttals of 'well black men don't respect black women' and i know that this is a major problem in our society of 'shawty get loose' and 'bust it baby' mind sets, but i for one, can count on one hand the number of times i have been disrespected by a black man. and i know a lot of black men. and furthermore, most of them are simply brilliant in their own right.

if a man treats a woman with respect and she tells him he is 'soft' or completely takes advantage of him, while the dudes that call us b*tches and hoes get love, how do we expect them to act?

a black man is one of God's greatest gifts. i truly believe this. second only to a black woman ... of course. lol. and call me crazy, but i just believe there are far more problems for black men in america to be worried about in this life than coming home to the one person who is supposed to be their helpmate constantly telling them how much of a failure they are.

maybe if we tried to uplift. maybe if we tried to encourage. motivate. love. push. guide. make them better.

maybe if we tried believing in them. just maybe.

and yes, barack obama is an exceptional feat. but does anyone think he would be where he is without michelle in his corner, telling him "yes you CAN, baby" far before that became america's mantra?

no.

they are looked at as 'threats' in america. a threat to what, i am still trying to figure out. i will never forget my white male professor at an historically black college standing in front of a room full of black women, telling us how black men are considered a 'threat' and nothing more than a sexual being, with no real skills besides providing a pleasurable reproduction experience, even as he stood in a building no more than a block away from a whole school of intelligent, profound black men.

yes, he said that.

the sad thing is that half of the room agreed with him.

... the other half of course, got him fired. lol.

but why is this stereotype so strong? why do we not place a value on black men?

we live in a world where black men are being exterminated. and yes, i know that is a strong word, but that's how i feel, and it just makes me sad. a world where black men feel they have to rob, kill and steal (or perfect the rhyming or hooping skills) to get money ... to get women who will treat them like a man.

we live in a world where they literally barricade you in a ghetto, place drugs and guns inside that barricade, make you feel like you can't do anything else by giving you a grossly inferior education by teachers that don't care, and then lock you away in jail for doing exactly what they expect/want you to do. then we wonder why they have a 6 in 10 jail rate by the time they are in their mid-thirties.

we live in a world where even the most intelligent of black men are still considered to be inferior. still considered to have slipped into that ivy-league school on an affirmative-action pass. still not considered 'good enough'.

we live in a world where black men are considered to be the worst fathers. the missing fathers. the ones that drop their seed and leave.

the thing is ... i know a woman right now who REFUSES to let her ex see his daughter without a court appointed visit. refuses. why? because he moved on. because he told her respectfully that it wasn't working out and she didn't want to accept it. her daughter is only three but every time she sees her father or his twin brother, she sees her mother cursing them out and calling them every name under the sun except the one their mother gave them. it just isn't right. why would you plant that doubt in her head at such a young age?

there has to be a change in mentality. has to be.


... so who will save the black man? who will be his backbone when the world gets heavy? who will tell him that's he not bad ... that he CAN do? who will believe in him?

cause from what i see, it sure isn't most black women.

then we wonder.

he's mine...you may have had him once but i got him all the time ...

He might be doing you
But he's thinkin' about me
So lay that finger on another lover
And go find another brother
I know he's my man
He's holding my hand
It feels good when he calls my name
Don't you wish you had the same
Feeling disgust workin' yo' stuff
Till he thinks about mine Now he's feeling real high
You ask why Cause he's mine
Tell you something that just aint cool
Never fall in love with a man who don't love you
I wouldn't waste my time telling you something wrong
You been with him one night and now he's coming home ...



"he don't want that hoe. she was just a one night thing."

this phrase is one i've come to be familiar with among friends and family when they find their man has cheated.

it was only a one night thing.

it didn't mean anything.

he made a mistake.

maybe it's just me, but i don't think that should matter. i think the fact that he spent the night out sexing down some chick while you were at home is enough to be fired. my friends say i'm unrealistic when it comes to relationships. how dare i expect a man to be faithful for forever in 2008?

in the song 'hey ya' by andre 3000, he says "if what they say is nothing lasts forever, then what makes love the exception?"

i dunno. i just think that once you stop believing in love, there's really no reason to date or get married or even be involved in it, you know? a friend told me that 'love fades. people fall out of love every day.' and i know this is true. i've seen it. but is that because it's so easy for us to look elsewhere for it?

and what happens when one of his 'one nighters' is no longer a one nighter? or one of those chicks gives him some disease that he so graciously gives to you? why is it so unrealistic to expect a man to be faithful? and what is the point of getting married if you are just going to cheat on each other?

'feeling disgust working your stuff...'

uh, yeah right.

so let me ask you guys...


do you think it's possible for love to last through anything?

you think the 20-30 year relationships are a possibility in this day and age?

if your man or woman had a 'one night thing' ... would you forgive and forget? tell yourself 'this here is too good, he don't want nothing else?'

or would you bounce to find your 'meant to be?'

random ish... the weekend edition

hey people!

sorry i haven't posted this week. for anyone who cares, those evil people at that evil bank actually made me WORK. can you believe it?

like, monday AND tuesday. early too.

i know, i was pissed too.

lol.


so let me first say that i did the march of dimes walk this past sunday and i want to say THANK YOU again to all of you all who donated, whether online or by mail.

love you guys! i do.

so ... friday after work bf's mom surprised us with a free room at motorcity casino. 'twas sooo nice. bf was chillaxing. lol.


basically that's all we did. relax.


saturday...

i went and got my hair straightened!! whooo hoooo!



i was nervous, but tianni hooked me up, for real. it was bouncy and light and STRAIGHT.

this will only be a once in a while thing, but i was happy for the change.



and ya'll know i had to take an 'official' straight hair pic. even though i don't really like this one. bf says we have to do a photo shoot since i just bought an insane amount of dresses and shoes for the summer.


so yeah, that was saturday. came home from the hotel, relaxed, went and got my hair straightened. and i TOTALLY forgot how black beauty shops are. my appointment was at five...i got there at five.

she didn't get to me until SEVEN-THIRTY. ooooh! lol. i was waiting and waiting... left to get something to eat, and waited some more. got out around nine-thirty-ish. whew.

...but she did a great job, so i'll be back. lol.

Sunday ...

march of dimes!

we woke up insanely early because we had to be downtown by 8:30. packed the water and snacks (candy) and put on jackets, because unlike last year, it was a little chilly outside.

when we got there, there were lots of people there.



we met up with my brother, his girlfriend, and my mom. all sweethearts for walking the five miles with me and bf this year.


march for babies from shanae b on Vimeo.
yay at me getting the videos to work.


my brother got interviewed channel 2 news on why it was important for him to walk. he did great!


i was loving my smart water. felt more intelligent by the sip. lol. the curls were gone when i wrapped my hair ... but i was still loving it.


the mod squad. lol @ my mom doing whatever she's doing. lol.


of course we had to stop on the river walk and take pics lol.


cheese!


work it mama. LOL.


lol @ my goofy little brother trying to get muscles.


finally done! whew!


awww.



they didn't want the party to end...so they entertained us with a step show after we finished. lol.


so then...


i went home and changed cause it had warmed up.


hair held up pretty good for just having walked five miles. lol.

after i decided to relax for the evening...i got a call to come over to the bestest's for a little impromptu gathering for her 25th bday.

she had to fly out (she's a flight attendant) on her bday and was sad we couldn't have a party that i had taken the pics for in a previous post, so we just called up some friends and had a grand ole time at her house.

it was fun until the men showed up. lol. we took turns (play) stripping on her big table and talked about such unladylike things. lol.

i learned a few new moves too... watch out now! lol.

i tried to upload the videos of us dancing... but i think it's too big. so ah well. hilarity i tell you. lol. this one is when bestest got home. still had the uniform on. ha! she's gonna kill me. lol. sorry it's so dark ...we only had like one light on in there.


bday party from shanae b on Vimeo.


the birthday girl cozying up to her favorite friend. lol.


we tried to get all the ladies to come take a pic...but people wanted to be elsewhere in the house during photo session time. so they got left out. lol.


buy you a draaannnk...

i was frontin though. mine was pepsi. lol.


sisters... awww.


don't you love my tan? i swear i love the sun. yay!


beauts


all the fellas were representing ... lol.


can't forget the cake.


i know what the wish was ...


don't ask who i was looking at... cause i don't know. lol.

...and now i'm off to go spend the stimulus check that was so promptly deposited into my account yesterday.

*smiles*

hope all is flyy and fabulous.

true story: i'm not a player ... i just crush a lot.

i have a friend. let's call her tiffany. tiffany is a sweet, pretty, twenty-something woman. doesn't have a man and is trying to get used to the idea of 'dating'. the last time she had a boyfriend, things ended horribly, so she promised herself that this time she would take her time, feel a man completely out before she allows him access to her heart.

with that said, she doesn't really enjoy 'dating' either. too many intentions to shift through, too many unknowns, too many ... dates. what most people enjoy about being single, she despises.

the preliminaries.

the 'getting to know' someone beyond shallow phone calls and awkward movie dates. she likes comfort. resting her head on a man's shoulder and knowing that he is on her team. that is more her speed.

which is why she sighed with relief when she met Donnie, the cute, sensitive poet who had just recently completed his first novel. he was perfect. tall, built to perfection, with dimples that added to his sensual smile.

the first time they talked, the conversation lasted for three hours. he wasn't shallow, seemed to be quite sweet and sensitive without being soft, he loved his mama, and most importantly, he was looking for a girlfriend.

... then there was malcolm. the smooth-talking, suave, teacher. the handsome mans whom she met on a whim when picking her little cousin up from school. he was nice, and she enjoyed hanging out with him most of the time.

one day malcolm called, wanting to hang out. she didn't have any plans, so she figured why not. she got dressed and left the house to meet malcolm.

on her way there, donnie called. "hey what ya doing today?"

she told him she was busy at the moment, but pretty much had no plans for later. which was true. she and malcolm would be done by two or three.

"well you should come through. we can chill tonight. get something to eat."

donnie made her smile. his voice alone was enough to make her pearly whites gleam. "okay."

had she really just made plans for two dates on the same day? wow. she'd never done anything like this. but there was no harm meant. and she was no one's girlfriend, unfortunately.

hanging with malcolm proved to be a waste of time.

he was a bickerer. if she said it was black, he said it was white. she said it was this, it just had to be that. after one too many disagreements, she decided she wasn't going to continue their date. he had the same sentiments. so after they left the store they had been perusing, they parted ways. she'd have to try again another day with malcolm.

on her way home, donnie buzzed in again. "hey, i'm at the wendy's by your house. my car just got a flat. you can meet me up here if you want though, i have someone on their way to help."

"okay, sure. i'll come keep you company."

she made a u-turn and headed towards wendy's. she was almost there when her phone rang again.

it was malcolm. apparently he felt bad about the way their morning had ended and wanted to make amends.

"i'm sorry about earlier. you want to hang out later? let me make it up to you."

her plans with donnie already on the table, she had to decline politely. "i'll call you later. we'll see." she said.

there was a tinge of disappointment in his voice, but he agreed. "okay. well if i don't answer in the next hour, it's because i'm helping my boy. his tire blew out. i'm on my way to wendy's by your house to get him."

her heart skipped a beat. she was pulling up into the wendy's by her house, donnie smiling as he saw her drive up.

this had to be a joke. were they pulling some kind of scheme on her? did he really just say the wendy's by her house? his boy? with a blown out tire?

damn.

she made a quick decision to bite the bullet. come clean. hey, men did it all the time. it wasn't like she knew that these two men knew were friends.

"is your friend's name donnie?" she asked.

"yeah, why?"

"cause i'm up here too. we are supposed to hang out later."

there was silence. followed by a chuckle. then, "riiight. i'll hit you back."

when she finally got out of the car, she had to come clean to donnie. he laughed. couldn't believe that this was happening.

"man, this is some straight movie ish right here." he lauged again.

but he liked her. and he knew how malcolm was. he called his friend. told him that he was straight. thanks anyway, but he had gotten other help.

saved her from complete embarrassment anyway. she appreciated the effort.

"oh, so that's why you couldn't hang out earlier, huh?" he said, shaking his head.

she felt too bad. couldn't continue this date. couldn't believe that this had actually happened. there was no way she could date either one of them now.

she left donnie after taking him to get a new tire. called a girlfriend who only added salt to the wound by telling her that she definitely knew a girl that donnie had been dating for a while now. that they were supposed to be 'serious'.

she rushed home, pissed and feeling like her life had reached complete craziness. so much for her being a player. the one time she tried, it blew up in her face. she found her roommate as soon as she closed the front door.

"mannnn, let me tell you how effed up my life is."

muze's dope photography pt. II

as you all know, bf is a photographer.





what you all don't know, is that i too, wanted to be a photographer for a loong time when i was younger.




came thisclose to majoring in photography when i was in college. even took a course.




... that was until i discovered how much i loved to write.

still, my best friend knows i know how to wield a camera. so, i was thrilled when she turned to me to take her pictures for her birthday invitations. (yeah it's going to be a big bash ... can't wait to get my grown and sexy on. yay!)




anyhoo, i'm proud of my amateur work, so i asked her if i could do a post about it.






she's fine with it, as long as i post the good ones. LOL.




...the adorable little boy in the pictures is my godson, who would not for anything be upstaged by his mother. lol.



enjoy!


question: which two are your favorite? in black and white or color?

...just want to make sure we chose the right ones. lol.










anybody want to take some pics ... holler! lol.



*in other news*


thanks to da vinci, i have posted a new Ata Nafia chapter today. see, thought i had forgotten about it huh?

happy now, people? lol.

ya'll better read it, all the griping i've been hearing. lol.

i am positive now that i will continue Ata's life. lol.

hope you all enjoy. thank you much for even wanting to read the words i write.


hope all is flyy and fabulous.

*smiles*

March for Babies

if you aren't familiar, the March of Dimes is a U.S. health charity that hosts WalkAmerica (now March for Babies), a annual five-mile walk that has helped to raise more than $1.7 billion to fund research and programs to prevent premature birth.

as it stands, african-american women are more than twice as likely to deliver prematurely.

on october 20 2004, i became one of those women.

Briyanna Aari was born three months premature, weighing 1 lb, 1 oz.



she could literally fit in the palm of our hand.

except, we weren't able to touch her. we could only look on and pray, and whisper to her how much she was loved and how much we wanted her to grow and get healthy.

she got up to 3 lbs, 12 oz. and almost two months old before God decided her little lungs couldn't take it anymore.



to this day, it is the most love i've ever experienced.

last year, i did the 5 mile walk here in detroit for the March of Babies. i raised $200 dollars. this year, i'm walking again, but i'd like to raise more. i'm a little late starting, seeing as though the walk is on april 27th, but better late than never.

the march of dimes has affected your life if:

-your baby has received a vaccine to prevent polio.

-your baby received newborn screening for dangerous but treatable conditions.

-you took folic acid before and during pregnancy to prevent birth defects of the brain and spinal cord.

-you had a healthy baby due in part to good prenatal care.


because i've been told that i am prone to have difficult pregnancies, premature births, and am to be regarded as a high-risk pregnancy in the future, i am probably going to benefit from the March of Dimes again.

so, thanks all in advance for the donations and well wishes. no matter how big or small, anything helps. if everyone donates what they can, i can reach my goal.

if you wish to donate, you can click on the badge on the right or this link right here. if not, thanks anyway.

hope all is flyy and fabulous!

muze speaks: 10 signs you're dating someone else's man.

it's that time again folks, time for another Public Service Announcement.

i've been home sick with the flu (boooo, i know. it sucks.) and i haven't even logged onto blogger since i last posted, but a recent situation has caused me to pause my bed rest and speak on it.

i have a cousin. very pretty girl, but young (well younger than me) and kind of naive. well she and i went to a spoken word event way back last summer where one of the poets did a piece, and she was immediately enamored with his smooth words and beautiful face. we'll change his name for sake of liability, lol, and call him mohammed. after mohammed did his passionate piece on how women should carry themselves as 'queens' and not club bunnies, (swoon, i know) and made his way to the back of the small club, my cousin informed me that he had until we left to talk to her or she was going to go introduce herself. it was her first time going to poetry with me and i knew i had heard of him before, but i didn't know him personally, which was funny because i just about know everyone in the detroit poetry scene.

anyhoo, at the end of the night, my cousin and my friend who also came with us, got onto the elevator because mr. mohammed was busy talking to a few guys there. she was disappointed, but i told her he would probably be there next time also. when we got out to the parking lot, i totally forgot i had to run back in and give some pictures to a friend of mine from an event she'd asked me to photograph. my cousin and friend weren't comfortable with leaving me behind even though they rode separate, so they waited in the car. and who should get on the elevator when i was coming back down but mohammed himself, and a few other guys. he kept looking me up and down and smiling until finally i said,

"hi. i really enjoyed your performance. do you have a cd?"

he smiled and replied "no, i don't have one but i will make one especially for a beautiful lady like yourself."

i offered a half smile and didn't say anything, just continued walking to my car. didn't want this man to think i was flirting with him. i genuinely thought he had talent, and he kept staring at me, so i felt like i had to say something. lol.

turns out he and his friend were parked right next to me, and i was parked right next to my cousin. she saw him and said, "excuse me, come here for a second." all seductively.

he walked over there and my friend and i exchanged glances but didn't say anything. they talked for a good five minutes and then he gave my friend a number and that was that.

fast-forward to two days ago. my cousin and mohammed have talked almost every day since that day, they've gone out, dated, been intimate, all that jazz. of course all this is AFTER i called her that very next day after she met him and told her that a friend of mine who is a friend of his told me that he was very married, with two kids and another on the way. "i'll keep that in mind." was her response. apparently she asked him and he said he wasn't and that was good enough for her.

two days ago, she called me crying. "oh my god he's MARRIED!!!!" his wife just had a baby!!! i can't believe this!" i looked at my phone in disbelief, but refrained from uttering the most-appropriate I TOLD YOU SO. she was genuinely heart broken and just couldn't believe he had been lying to her. even though everything she told me about him throughout their short relationship was chock-full of signs that this man belonged to someone else, she refused to acknowledge them.

so that this apparent deception doesn't happen to another 'innocent' victim, i have decided to give my thoughts on how to know if your man is also someone else's man. having six brothers has afforded me a lot of knowledge on this subject unfortunately.

1) he gives you a cell number or work number only.
-this one is tricky because a lot of people don't give or even have, home phones anymore. unless of course they have a family. in her case, he gave her his work number only, the reason being that he 'had unlimited calls on that number and they didn't care who he talked to.' liar. if you can only reach a man through his private work number, something is definitely up.

2) you have never been over his house.
-i think this one is kind of self-explanatory. if he has a wife, girlfriend, or just a main chick (luda!) living with him, odds are he can't just invite you over anytime he feels. she didn't even know where exactly the man lived. sad sad sad.

3) you've been over his house, but only twice and it was slightly 'weird'.
-was his place unusually large for just him? were all the bedroom doors shut tightly? was there an absence of pictures? a home with absolutely no pictures almost always means he's hiding something and he already cleared them out before you came. odds are he won't let you up in his bedroom at all, and most of your intimate nights are spent in hotels.

4) he can rarely spend more than a few hours with you at a time.
-if he always has to run off to some 'meeting' or family function or complains that he has to get home to get some rest, beware.

5) he always complains about his 'ex' as if their breakup happened yesterday, but says it was a while ago.
-if his mind is still consumed with how horrible his 'ex' was, she's probably not an ex, and was just cursing him our a few hours ago.

6) weekend dates are few and far between, and if you talk to him on the weekend, he's very short.
-this one was a constant with my cousin. he would not be available at all during the weekend, and when he was, he was short, vague, and sometimes speaking in hushed tones. call him on it immediately. if he can't say your name, and every other word is 'uh-huh, yeah okay', investigate immediately.

7) you've never spent a holiday with him.
-he always has a business trip, or family coming in town, or his cousin's wife's grandma died and he has to go out of town to the funeral. mmmkay. this one can be weird because if you haven't been seeing each other for very long, then maybe he just isn't comfortable spending a holiday together yet. this is highly unlikely though.

8) months later, you still haven't met his family and only two of his friends.
-those two are the ones that are vicariously living through him and would never ever tell him to stop cheating. they may in fact be egging him on. most families, however, would scold him and make him feel so guilty about it. and they'd probably treat you like the hussy he picked up off the street if you did meet them.

9) he has your number saved in his phone under an initial or some other name that isn't yours.
-that is not your 'nickname'. if he has bob in his phone under your number, or doesn't even have your number in there at all, raise your eyebrow, fold your arms, and make him explain. you can even throw a neck swivel and a lip smack in there. lol.

10) he never uses his credit card or answers his phone in front of you.
-if he is married, best believe his wife is seeing his credit card statements, and is probably in charge of making sure all the bills are paid on time. if his phone never rings when you're around, it's probably on silent. look at his ring finger, is there an indent or a tan line mark there in the shape of a band? i mean, i'm just saying.

okay ladies, there are more signs i'm sure, to tell if you are dating someone else's man, but these are the ones that i think are most obvious and that i've witnessed happen to people i know. so, if your man is doing three or more of the things on this list, check him! lol.

am i THAT old fashioned?

what's so wrong with getting married?

no, i'm serious. i'd really like to know.

having conversations on this matter with friends both male and female has caused me to think that something is wrong with me for actually being in a healthy, normal relationship and looking forward to getting married.

the general consensus is that marriage is for suckas. the relationship climate for black men and women is especially dire. the women have started to say eff marriage in the same rates as black men have been.

am i really the only romantic one left out of my whole group of friends? when i smiled and was describing how i'd like my future wedding to be, my friends had a collective look of 'she's so stupid' plastered on their faces. i mean is the single life of clubbing, random guys, and random hookups that great that you would NEVER want to get married?

the men look at marriage as a 'ball and chain' or like my ex used to say, "having a wife is like having a parole officer that you have to check in with every day." jerk. lol.

most women think it's old fashioned and even unrealistic to expect to be happily married and have given up hope in men, so therefore vow to have just as much single fun as men have.

"i'll date, i'll even have a semi-relationship with someone, but seriousness is not what i'm looking for right now." is what one of my friends told me. she is 29 and has one child, which is fine, but how old are you going to be when you finally decide you want to settle down?



so what's the point of being in a relationship with someone when you're in your late twenties to early thirties if you have no intentions on marrying that person? maybe i'm just old fashioned. that would be news to me. lol. have i been thinking i was cool all this time when i'm really just an old-fashioned loser? wow.

well i guess it ended good.

new year's eve 2007

5 pm: while i await the cashier at Charlotte Russe to give me the total on the fabulous green and gold, and black dress i'm purchasing for new year's eve, i absentmindedly tune into a conversation going on between two girls standing in line behind me.

"girl, we gotta get to the club before nine. we get in free free before then."

"yeah but that snow ain't gonna be no joke. ten inches? i can't where my hooker heels in that shit! i'ma have to wear my hooker boots. got this damn pedicure for nothing."

i hear this and think to myself, 1) why in the hayle would she think she could wear some toe-bearing shoes in michigan in december? and 2) ummm where the hayle did i think i was going in ten inches of snow?

no where. that's where. dangit.

i smile at the cashier and take my dress and earrings but secretly grimace to myself. now i will have one more dress in my closet that will probably go unworn.

7 pm: two hours later i'm all dressed. the mini dress, hair big and wavy, new guess Gold perfume dazzling my nose, gold beaded necklace dangling down my bosom, and 3 inch knee-high boots i've been dying to wear. boyfriend said he still wanted to do something, so i went into operation get-beautiful. i think i've finally got the smoky eye thing down. yay!

8 pm: little sister JUST getting around to picking up my digital camera i stole from boyfriend. i am so graciously letting her use it for the night. i make a mental note to borrow indefinitely the shirt she is wearing. gosh i love little sisters. lol.

8:15 pm: the first white flakes start to fall as we make our way towards the city. boyfriend realizes he left his wallet and i didn't bring mine. (annoyed sigh). we have to turn allllll the way around and go back to get it or we won't be having any fun tonight.

8:35 pm: we finally make it back home and snow is definitely starting to pick up. i come inside to check on my smoky eye when my cell rings for what seems the hundredth time today. it's little sister. she is lost. a-half-hour-in-the-wrong-direction lost. i wonder what on earth made her and her equally bad-with-directions boyfriend decide to go to a club an hour away to bring in the new year in ten inches of snow. whew. i waste yet MORE time mapquesting them back to safety.

8:50 pm: boyfriend warns me that he is not feeling too well exactly ten seconds before he hauls ass to the bathroom and spews up the sub he had for lunch. NOT sexy. yuck. since i have my sexy smoky eye, stiletto boot, fass-tail mini dress, big hair thing going on, i am very reluctant to aid him. finally after confirming that he isn't just playing sick, i slip out of the dress and boots and run, well walk, to his side and play the good girlfriend role. ga-ross.

9:30 pm: cell call one hundred and one.

"hello?"

"heyyyy my baby. what you doing for new year's eve?"

it's my father. he sounds perky and excited, so i know an invitation to make the 45-minute ride out to his house to celebrate is nigh.

"i was gonna go out, but i don't know now. boyfriend is sick." i say, not at all enthused at the change in plans.

"well i'm having a couple of friends over, and your aunt and cousins. you should come over. we have the guest room if you guys can't make it back home in the snow."

this sounds fun, because when it comes to parties, or what he calls 'a couple of friends over', my dad is that guy who always wins. the one party you remember weeks later and probably the only one that you'll hear a girl's father telling stories to her and her boyfriend about how he got busted that one time when his girlfriend walked in on his threesome in session. yeah. that's my dad. lol.

9: 40 pm: i hang up with dad and sit my victoria's secret clad bottom down on my sofa and turn on mtv for some entertainment. boyfriend is sleeping, all decked out in the sweater, button up shirt, and nice jeans that he picked out all by himself. HUGE step for him. i'm proud of my sick baby.

not two seconds after the tv chimes on, i hear a woman screaming. not blood curdling screaming, but i'm bout to kick you mutha****** ass screaming.

"no! tell that BITCH you were with to let you in! oh ugly ass...had to go pick up that horse looking bitch. kiss my ass!"

ummm yeah. i live in a quiet, suburban apartment complex. on the brochure it even says, "a quiet, tranquil neighborhood great for single and married professionals." we don't even have a pool cause kids would make too much noise in it. that is until the neighbors in 201 moved in. lawd jesus.

"look now, i told you she don't mean nothin. damn! what you want me to do, beg? stop trippin and open the door!"

this is followed by a loud bam! repeated several times as he tries to get into her apartment.

finally the door opens. out flies what looks to be his whole wardrobe and a couple pairs of air force ones. by this time all the neighbors, most of which are white or indian, peep out of their doors in horror. there goes the neighborhood.

the guy, apparently embarrassed and tired from all the bamming he's been doing, grabs what he can and stalks off, pissed.

the door opens one last time. "and i hope that bitch knows you just gave her HERPES! yeeeaah nigga!"

10:00 pm: after all that excitement, i abandon my hope of getting tonight's use out of the hott green dress with the gold detail. i make a bowl of freshly cut pineapples, strawberries, apples, and grapes, grab the dipping bowl full of whipped cream, and lie down in my new vicky's secret on the pallet i've made on the living room floor. have myself a grand ole' time eating fruit and cream and flipping between different televised parties.

boyfriend was pissed he missed it. lol.

muze speaks: stop killing your toes!

okay. they did it. they made me come out of my hibernation. i cannot just sit by and watch them do this to themselves. this, is a Public Service Announcement.

ladies and gents, wintertime is here. well, at least in michigan it is. and with winter, comes the one thing that i manage to find positive about the cold, snowy, dreary weather. and that is a nice, cute pair of boots.
but as much as i am thrilled that i have found something to enjoy about the cold days in michigan, i am equally appalled at the boot (and feet) abuse going on by my fellow women. i mean, what is up? in the past week we had our first snowfall and i swear i have seen every foot-torturing boot walking around on feet that should not be in them. so, i thought i'd help my sisters out and let you all know a few signs you might not need to be wearing those oh-so-cute boots. trust me, come this summer you'll thank me.

1. when you're putting them on you have to ball your toes up for them to fit. ladies, ladies, ladies. puhleeze don't do this to your poor feet! i know those boots are flyy. i know that is the last pair. but they're not your size! one size too small is not close enough! one size to small is one size too small...let it go honey, let it go.

2. when you're walking in them you have to go three times slower than everyone else to not be in unbearable pain. umm, yeah. we're waiting for you. you knew your butt shouldn't have bought those four inch pointy-toed things in the first place. yeah they're cute, but they hurt when you tried them on at the store. i was sitting next to you watching you ball them bad boys up to get them on. shame on it all. and you look kinda silly walking like that.


3. when you walk all people can hear is 'clunk, click, clunk, click' cause one of the heels has worn down to the metal. it only costs fifteen dollars to get a heel replaced. fifteen dollars homie. i know those boots were $200 and you just have to wear them to the club this weekend, but for real, take them to the shoe shop. fifteen dollars and one day. maybe a half hour if they're not busy. do it, please. don't disrespect the boots like that, please.

4. when people can see your whole foot inside the boot cause it has 'toe bumps' on the front. okay, now this one really bugs me. if you can see the outline of your toes on the outside of the boot, baby, they're too small. waaay too small. your poor toes. they're probably pissed at you. it shouldn't look like you have a bunch of pebbles lining the inside of your boots. i know beauty is pain, but there has to be a limit. and then you wonder why your feet are all tore up when the summertime comes. shame on it all!

5. when you have to employ your man, your child, and your best friend to pry them off at the end of the day. this one is a tough one, because there are some instances in which you might need help getting a pair of boots off. one example being a pair of knee high boots that don't have the convenient little zipper on the inside of the calf. HOWEVER, if you need assistance pulling off your favorite wedge-heeled or ankle boots, they may not be the best look for you.

so now you know what you should and shouldn't be looking for when you buy boots. remember there are always exceptions to all these rules (except for the toe pebble thing...ugh.) but even the highest heel can be comfortable if it is the right fit. so don't torture your feet! take your time and find some that flatter you, please!

now go shop! next week we'll tackle the art of a good layered look. lol. :)

chocolate gods and missing moms....

okay, i know male strippers are all the craze nowadays with the ladies, but at some point you should be able to realize that the 'fun' you're having is a bit much. a LOT much. how can you explain the white, milky substance on your clothes to your man when you get home from a night out with the girls?

i mean, maybe i'm old fashioned, but how is it okay for some random dude to be humping your face in a room full of people like no tomorrow and you laugh about it? that's gross. they're probably breeding STDs at this joint. i know this was (well hopefully was) some kind of private 'engagement'....but still...dayum. see why i love urban chocolate?

***and on another note..... poor kanye. i wish i could give him a big hug. i think maybe a week after your mother dies is not a good time to be kicking off a whole european tour. so sad. so sad. poor thing. here's the vid to the link:

a nip here, a tuck there....