all i wanna know is ...

WHY is your MAYOR in JAIL!!!!





omg i've seen it all.

and yes, he's YOUR mayor.

cause my I.D. says westland. lol.

i'm done. i'm just done.


kwame keeps forgetting where and who he is apparently.

first he violates his bond.

and then i have to read about him roughing up a police officer? really?

come on now, kwame.

and then when your lawyer advices you NOT to say anything, you get up and make a whole darn speech. sorry it didn't work out for you, kwame.

i couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the television yesterday.

detroit, who already has a bad enough reputation, who is finally becoming a beautiful city, has its leader standing before a judge and getting jailed.

good lawd.

that just goes to show, you can take the mayor out the hood...




and in other news... HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my mommy!!!!

love you mommy. muah.

the poorness

i am broke.

broke. broke. broke.

hate to open the blog back up with such depression, but after carefully assessing my finances this morning, i have discovered the horrible truth that i am broke.

i hate that ish, too.

what do you do when the person that birthed you, that you love dearly, that is one of your best friends, has drowned you in debt and is constantly adding more effing water to the pool?

how do you handle that?

... cause i don't know how.

and it's starting to piss me off.

muze speaks: good Lord it's summertime

i love summer. i do.

the sun is shining, it's warm, and in general, people are just happier all around. especially in a place like michigan where we have seven months of unpleasant weather. the barbeques, family get-togethers, the fireworks night, the swimming, the strolling down the strip, and most of all, the fashion. yes, i love wearing summer clothes.

and man oh man have i seen some fashion this year.

in my summer travels i've seen some outfits that were so cute i couldn't help but walk up and tell them.

...this post is not for them.

this post if for the poor people who just can't seem to get it together when it comes to summertime dos and don'ts as far as fashion is concerned. i've been taking mental notes ever since it got hot enough for the skin to start showing, and, while i could have pictures to entertain you all, i chose not to get beaten up. lol.

your eyes would thank me anyway, trust. lol.

so with that, here is muze's ten commandments of summertime. (in no particular order)


-thou shall get a pedicure: umm yeah, the sandals are super cute, but your crusty ankles and jagged, half-painted toenails are a tad bit distracting. PLEASE head to the nearest shop and handle that. only costs 25 bucks, really.

-thou shall not show booty when wearing booty shorts: it's just a name, honey. it doesn't actually mean you have to have cheekage hanging out. you look like a something that stepped out of a ying-yang twins video, and we'd all prefer you not. thanks.

-thou shall shave/wax/nair your underarms: i really hope this needs no explanation. if you are wearing a tank top, and you plan on raising your hand for any reason, even if it's just to scratch that itch in your weave, puhleeeze make sure you don't resemble ben wallace under there. not cute.

-thou shall do the same with legs: now, this one is tricky. because some women don't have to shave. and some, the hair is too light and soft to really notice. but if you look like wolverine about the stems like i do, do not pass go... head DIRECTLY to the nearest jar of wax/can of shaving cream, and smooth that ish out. please.

-thou shall not wear dresses that look like potato sacks: this is by far my least fashion fad this summer. if you are not particularly oddly plump and oval shaped, why would you want to look like you are? i don't get it.

-thou shall not have matching mommy-daughter skank outfits: omg if i see this one more time... your daughter is FOUR. why is she wearing a leopard bikini top and baby booty shorts with the word PHAT on the back? and we already told you about the cheekage you have hanging. stop that. right now.

-thou shall buy shoes that fit: no matter how cute they are, if your toes or heels are hanging over, or if it is visibly painful for you to walk, just leave them on the shelf. your feet will thank you later, trust me.

-thou shall know when the time has passed where you could wear belly shirts and look cute: i'm not trying to be mean, i'm really not. but if you are wearing a belly shirt, and your belly is hanging over your pants and a lot on the jiggly side, maybe you need to start investing in longer shirts. it's much more flattering. i mean, just an idea.

-thou shall not wear biker shorts. ever: ugh. JUST. SAY. NO. especially if those particular shorts are a size 24. and they're white. and you have on a short shirt. please.

-thou shall not wear your 'freakum' dress to the family fireworks: i know, i know. that dress is baaad. it hugs all the right places and makes all the men stare. but really, stilettos and a skin-tight, bright blue dress outside downtown where all the families are barbecuing? come on now. and we all see you limping in those shoes. shame shame shame.


now, there's a start. there are a whole lot more i could add, but i figured i'd let you all add to the list.

so, what are some of your summertime commandments?

hope all is fab and flyy people. *smiles*

of all the things to do at 16...

why would making a pact to get pregnant with sixteen of your equally stupid friends be one of them?

wow. just wow.

what is the world coming to? this story of the 17 girls in massachusetts all getting pregnant together is simply boggling to my mind. what on earth do they have to offer a baby?

their reasoning: they want to experience the unconditional love that a child brings.

wtf.

from my understanding, most of the girls come from broken homes or environments where there is an obvious lack of parental guidance and care. but still. one of them actually got knocked up by a 24-year-old homeless man. what kind of mess...?

the problem is that most of these girls don't have the capacity to understand what it actually means to be a mother. they think, 'oh i will have this real live doll! and it'll love me and i can dress it up all cute and show it off to all my friends.' they don't take into consideration the money involved. the time. the 3AM waking up with a fever. the diapers. the energy. the knowledge. the money. the money. the money. lol.

they're gonna get a rude awakening, i'll tell you that much.

i'd like to see what they say in their interviews a year from now. because i know mistakes happen, teens get pregnant everyday. but to plan this with your friends with no regard to how you will take care of the baby or who the father is and where he'll be... is just pure stupidity. for real.

sad sad state we're living in. just sad.

mind spilling

not much to speak on today. so i'll just mind spill ...

i've been feeling a little down lately. but i am positive my happiness will be greatly increasing in the next few weeks and months. i pray.

...it betta get betta. whew.

my wtf moment of the week...

my face. well rather the skin on my face. has been pissing me off. breaking out. i'm 26 years old. what the hell. ugh. ah well. it will go away. just makes me angry. that's how i KNOW i've been stressing. booooo.

on the up side, little sister #1 and i are going to see kanye TOMORROW. wooooo hoooo!!! operation 'seduce kanye' is still on. lol.

cool story ...

so my mom and little sister #1 called me on speaker phone monday. little sis was screaming with glee in the background.

my mom asked, "are you sitting down?"

i said "no, why?"

mom: "sit down!!"

me: "why?"

mom: "cause i just won you kanye west tickets!!"

me: "huh? don't play with my heart. seriously. that is just cruel."

-sidebar- when i said i was going to the kanye concert, i was purchasing them that day. thing is, only seats i was willing to pay for were waaay far. the ones closer to the stage (but still very very far away) were unreasonably priced, so i was a little depressed that i'd have a nosebleed during the concert.

-resume-

little sis#1: "noooo! she is serious!! *screams* i can't wait!!! ohmygod what are you going to wear?? this is gonna be so much fun!!!"

me: "so ya'll are serious? like for real?"

mom: "yes! they asked on the radio why you deserved to go to the concert and i told them and i won! they're really good seats too!!"

me: *screams like a little kid* "you are sooo the best mom ever in life. ever."


so yeah, i'm going. and i won't have a nosebleed. yay. now to find a way to sneak my camera in. there's no way i'm not getting some pics. me thinks i will hide it with my 'goodies'. lol. they try to check there and i'll scream harassment. ha!

and yesterday, my mom informed me that a friend of a friend just gave her floor seats to the celtics/pistons game on saturday. and i'm going to that also. yay.

how cool am i?

random...

have you ever watched a real life love story unfold? it's a pretty awesome thing to witness.

things not to say in a room full of white people.

the recent case of susan lefevre has sparked some very interesting conversations.


frolicky gay white man: "see, i totally don't think she should go to jail. i mean, come on now, she's like, a total model citizen now."

young white lady: "i totally agree. she has been rehabilitated. she was nineteen. she is a model citizen now. raised three lovely kids, contributing member of her church and community, i mean, she's basically me in twenty years."

i'm standing there, saying nothing. minding my business. listening.

frolicky gay white man: "you should like, totally be a judge. some of these crazy people are saying she should go to jail. that's so stupid. this lady is no harm to anyone."

young white lady: "yeah they are so stupid to think that. why would you put her in jail? that was ages ago. and you wouldn't even get that sentence now a days for that crime."

i look at the black man in front of me, minding his business, yet quietly shaking his head as he listens. probably thinking the same thing as i am. i can't take it any longer. maybe i shouldn't say anything, but if i don't, it will eat at me.

me: "so, can i ask a question? what about all those people who got the same sentence for the same crime who just got out of jail ten years ago?"

young white lady: "well ... too bad for them. i mean, i'd be pissed if i was them, but it makes no sense to put her in jail and spend money on jailing some innocent, harmless lady."

me: "she's not innocent. she escaped from jail. she trafficked drugs. she stole some dead person's identity for thirty years. so do you think she should get a fine at least?"

young white lady: "umm no. why would they do that? she's paid her debt to society. she has become a good citizen."

me: "so did tookie williams."

young white lady: "who?"

me: "exactly. so you're telling me if this was the same story, but it was him" (pointing to the young black guy in front of me) "you telling me you would feel the same way? be honest."


uncomfortable silence.


me: "there are few things a black man can do in america and get away with it. even if it isn't something wrong. sometimes he's just going to a friggin bachelor party the night before his wedding. i just feel that, if it was a black man, there would be a very different headline. maybe something like 'dangerous drug dealer found after thirty years! made to serve rest of sentence at age 50.' there would be no pondering of what should become of him. his ass would be in jail. that would be the story."

frolicky gay white man: "wow ... i uh, never thought about it like that. i still wouldn't think he should go to jail though. honestly."

me: "sure you wouldn't. i say fine her ass 500,000 dollars and put it towards these broke down schools in detroit. that could at least buy some up to date books. make her do 5,000 hours of community service, 'rehabilitating' young black men who were caught selling drugs. since she knows so much about turning your life around."


uncomfortable silence.


the black man in front of me smiles. nods at me. looks over at them and shakes his head. then takes his money.

me: "you have a wonderful day, sir."

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?'

na na now that that don't kill me...

after all of the stealing and cheating
you probably think that I hold resentment for you
but, uh uh, oh no, you're wrong
cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do
I wouldn't know how just how capable I am to pull through
so I wanna say thank you, cause it...

makes me that much stronger
makes me work a little bit harder
makes me that much wiser
so thanks for making me a fighter...

made me learn a little bit faster
made my skin a little bit thicker
makes me that much smarter
thanks for making me a fighter



i can look back and know that he was weak. using me as the doormat to stomp his feet free of all his own inadequacies. i was never enough.

never pretty enough. thin enough. smart enough.

i can see now that i was more than enough. too much. i can think with a clear and rational mind now and know that it was him who had the issues.


yet sometimes, looking back still pisses me off.

only because of the years lost. the daughter we shared that i had to drag him to see in the NICU. the multiple times i took four different buses from westland to the east side of detroit (for all you michiganders...you feel me) just to see him. the cheating. the abortion. the whole gamut of self-esteem issues he so vehemently piled on me year after year.


most of the time though, i can look back and say thank you.

thank you for insisting that i would never be anything without you.

thank you for the many, many untruths you told me through the course of our relationship.

thank you for taking advantage of my docile personality, my loyality.

thank you for encouraging me to "get the f*ck out" that day, and then proceeding to push me out of the door so hard that i had a bruise on my arm for a week.

thank you for making me believe i was worthless, undesirable, and stupid.

thank you for assuring me there was no other man on the planet that would like me, let alone treat me right.

thank you.


i've had a ball proving you wrong.

surprised even myself at how strong i've become.

because of you, i know i can do anything i choose, anything i put my mind to.

sure, i've lost a bit of my innocence. become harder, tougher, thicker skinned.

in the end though, i owe you this gratitude.


even wrote this poem for you when i was especially grateful that you even decided to call me and see how i was doing. how sweet.


*67

i have a headache.
my ears are almost bleeding
can you puh-leeze stop screaming?
and pathetic is your pleading.
thought you were slick,
dialing *67 so i would answer
shit.
i did.

should've hung up the receiver
as soon as i knew
you were the deceiver.
and i'm still trying
but you're still crying
and i wish i hadn't answered this call.

the woes that befall you
are no longer my problem boo
i'm sorry she dissed you
and no i don't miss you
okay, now can i dismiss you?

no?

what else do you have to say?
you can't just leave things this way?
what way? ... they're perfectly fine with me
i've moved on ... can't you see?
what, you thought i'd be drowning in misery?
eyes red from crying a pillow sea?

nope.

well, not exactly.
i've already been through that stage
now i'm in the i don't give a f*ck phase...
the one where your name has been erased
replaced
embracing a new face...

switch!

so, are we done yet?
there's really no more convo.
your voice plus the tears
is a really annoying combo.
why am i so heartless?

hmm ... let's rewind.
you lied
tried to buy time
while she was taking what was mine ...
you deceived
and received
sex from someone not me

but now i'm relieved
so let's just end this conversation...
i have somebody waiting.
well, what can you do?

...go back to masturbating.

leave it to detroit...

... to have a thug for a mayor. i can't believe this. it's like a lifetime movie unfolding right before our eyes!

he has thrown lots of stripper and alcohol filled parties at the manoogian mansion. cheated on his wife with the loose chick in the office (she was the chief of his staff alright). then, proceeded to lie about his relationship with her on the stand. one of the said strippers (tamara 'strawberry' greene) came up dead after his wife busted into one of his stripper-laden parties and beat ms. strawberry to a pulp for visually (and more possibly) pleasing her man, so bad that she was unconscious and was in the hospital for a day.

can you get ANY more cliche kwame? i mean, really.

when i saw him at the club a couple years ago i knew we had a mayor that was not like others. he was 'cool'. the young, hip mayor that could relate to the younger crowd. still, i felt that people in public offices should not be out late clubbing it up. more so, they should not be at the club humping on some woman that is clearly not their wife. knowing now how gangster his wife is, i'm kinda glad i passed up the small urge to go dance with our 'city's sweetheart' mayor just to say i did.

and now, the smooth talking, young pimp-daddy mayor of ours has been charged with not only perjury, but conspiracy to obstruct justice, obstruction of justice, and misconduct in office.

eight counts homie. eight. up to fifteen years. whew.

and the lead homicide detective in detroit is investigating the death of tamara greene, who's son wants to know what the hell happened that day at the manoogian mansion.

i wanna see how mr. slick is gonna talk his way out of this one.

i'm going to jail ya'll...

oh no he didn't.

did this motherf*cker really just hit my 82 year-old grandmother?

nah.

he ain't that crazy is he?

he is?

oh hell no.

where's the pistol. the shovel. a rope. some poison. SOMETHING.

he gots to go.

how the hell do you hit your 82 year-old mother in the head?

ol not having a job, can't afford his cigarette habit, in and out of jail, in my face for a dollar every time i come over, forty-five year old motherf*cker.

i'm going to jail ya'll.

man boobs

okay. i am stunned. in awe. look at this chick:



hot right? what's more amazing is she used to look like this:
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better start asking to see elementary and baby pics, fellas.

i'm just saying...

he looks better than more than a FEW women i know. geesh. like i said, in awe.

i know, this is totally random. lol.

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.

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.

'twas the night before christmas...

just wanted to say MERRY CHRISTMAS!! to all the good boys and girls... and the not-so-good ones too. ;-)

hopefully you all haven't went crazy and spent waaaay more than you intended to on christmas like i did. it is going to take at least two months for my bank account to recover from my decking of the halls this year. whew! but, this is the first christmas in a while where i've actually had money to get people good gifts, so i'm happy i guess.

hope everyone has a safe, fun, and rockin holiday! and stop drinking all the eggnog! lol.

-oh, and on a side note, i really really really hope chris stokes gets a lump of coal for christmas. delivered by a group of angry crips and bloods collectively.

random ish...

*you rock to beyonce all day at work, singing along to 'get me bodied' and 'freakum dress'. you are personally offended that i won't allow you to 'weave me down' or 'train' my hair to be straight at the salon you work at. your pants are as tight as mine. your shirts are definitely tighter than mine. you have a slight ghetto-girl neck-roll thing that happens when you get mad and 'go off' on someone. you sip coffee through a straw only because you are afraid that it will stain your teeth otherwise. you have a video of beyonce performing on your phone. you offered to braid my hair. you spend at least 20 minutes per bathroom trip per day. yet, you are male.

but you wonder why everyone thinks you're gay? ooookkkaaaay.

i mean, i'm just sayin.

*seriously, if i hear one more song by t-pain this year i am just going to scream. seriously.

* why in the world is everyone so mad that saleisha won on top model? it is a REALITY show people, which in general means 'as far from reality as can possibly be done using a 'light' script'. get over it!

*okay, are you really going to pretend like you are 'accidentally' brushing up against me TWENTY times a day? come on now.

*i am seriously starting to think that some of these napptural women are beyond the point of normal perspective. i mean yes, my hair is important to me. keeping heat away from it and keeping it healthy is important. but to advise someone to leave their FIANCEE whom they are 6 months pregnant by just because he doesn't like her hair is just beyond me. i mean, common sense was given by God...for free. wow.

* i am noticing an unusual amount of white men hitting on me this month. i've been offered four 'out to lunches' two dinners and five or six iphone numbers. is it my new victoria's secret perfume? the new shade of lipstick and gloss i've been wearing? if it isn't one of those two then i am clueless. whatever it is, the vanilla beans are LOVING my caramelhoneyhotness lately. lol.

*mmmm raja bell. mmmm.

*vanilla ice cream at midnight is one of life's greatest pleasures. now all i need is to get laid get some rest and all will be right with the world. lol. (for mommy if she's reading. lol)

*hmm. i wonder how much time i'd get for strangling my little brother. i mean, the judge would understand, right?

*when i got into your car this morning i seriously felt like i had just stepped into the billowing cloud of smoke from 100 burning cigarettes. damn shame.

*i'll be soooo glad when this whole 'thick chick' phase is over in the black community. i'm tired of having cake and pasta thrown at me from every which way from people trying to save me from my apparent 'anorexia'. yeah cause a size five is just sooooo not normal. lawd lawd lawd.

*i feel like such a chester when i see chris brown. but that is one sexy lil youngin! lol. and from what i hear...he likes older women....lol.

what becomes of the brokenhearted... man?

this past weekend i witnessed something i have never witnessed in my twenty-five years on this earth. not one, but TWO black men with newly broken hearts, crying.

now i know that it may seem like this is not a big deal, but i was in shock. not only because one of them is my older brother and i've NEVER seen him cry over anything or any woman, but because i can't believe how scandalous women have become these days. it's really kind of shocking. or i'm just really that naive.

friday i get a frantic call from a very close male friend of mine. we went to college together and he still lives in atlanta, but we still remained close even after i moved back to michigan. he was upset. no, pissed. kept repeating over and over that he was 'gonna kill this bitch'. of course, i was panicking too, not knowing how serious he was. after i got the whole story though, i understood why he was saying that.

this woman, his woman, the woman he's been with for four years, is pregnant by another man. yes. turns out she's been living a double life of sorts with some other guy all while my homie is paying for her school and taking care of her and loving only her. bitch. one of my spelman friends no less.

i tried to calm him down anyway i could, telling him to take a walk (which he was doing) and assuring him that he was too good for this woman anyway, apparently. told him that at least he was finding out now, rather than later. at least she didn't pretend the child was his, only for him to find out when his son was five that it wasn't his son.

that didn't really help. but, i said a lot more stuff, got him to stop saying he was gonna kill her. talked to him until he got to his brother's house (yeah, he walked). and heard him literally break down on the phone. it was so sad.

now, my brother. his wife moved in with her sister about a month ago. her reasoning? they just needed some time 'apart'. technically, they're just separated. saturday i was in his neighborhood so i stopped by. didn't call or text, cause i saw his car in the driveway. being the great little sister that i am i have a key to be used only in emergencies. well i knocked. no answer. then i called. no answer. so i used the key only because my bladder was in great need of emptying. what i walked into was something i've never witnessed. my brother was sitting on the couch, head down in his hands, crying. not sobbing, but there was a definite stream of tears and some sniffling going on. i was worried but i knew what it was about.

when he got over his anger of me just barging in, he told me that his wife is pregnant. by him. but she wants a divorce. she's in love with another man. wtf??? he was looking forward to starting a family so much, and now this. what's worse is he actually thought they were on the path to making up. he had no idea that she was cheating. and i liked her too. damn.

what is the world coming to? i know this happens every day, but this is the first time i've personally experienced seeing a man going through it. it just broke my heart. and the sad thing is that both my brother and my friend will probably become bitter players, or not allow themselves to love as deeply again, as i've heard this is the thing that happens after a man goes through such deception by a woman. i hope not, but i don't know. i can see how it would happen though.

i am just thoroughly concerned with the state of black relationships today. it's sad. really sad. the good men get dogged and the dogs get the good women. it's not fair. and i'm not anti-women at all (being as though i am one..lol) and i've hurt my fair share of feelings, but this is just downright dirty.

what makes a relationship so bad that you can not only cheat on the man you supposedly love, but actually get pregnant by some other dude? what makes it that bad that even though you are pregnant by your husband, you are willing to throw your family away for some other man? i just don't get it. i know these pregnancies were probably unexpected, but whew, it's just a sad sad thing.

my poor fellas. don't tell them i told ya'll though. they might get mad. lol.

oh! and just so you know, there is a new chapter up over on the fiction side of things. check it out!

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:

forget writer's block....i've got a barricade.

something is wrong.

i mean, drastically wrong.

wtf is wrong with me?

here i sit, house all to myself, Wynton Marsalis softly trumpeting through the speakers of my laptop, mind ablaze with ideas for articles, short stories, and poems....and i can't seem to translate the one thing i do need to be working on into words. i've been sitting here seriously for the last two hours writing and rewriting the first four sentences to a brilliant story i have in mind. the plan was to get to at least chapter twelve by the end of the week, seeing as though i'm on vacation. and i'm not even past the first paragraph....and i'm going out of town tomorrow, so this is pretty much my last day to write peacefully.

maybe i'm thinking too much. i told myself i was going to lay off the heavy blog-stalking for a while and concentrate on my writing, but that seems to have only derailed my efforts to be more productive further. usually, listening to light jazz will bring the words to life, they usually flow effortlessly like the saxophone wafting from John Coltrane's Naima. seeing as though it is my absolute favorite jazz song...i am surprised that even it is not working.

it is hard to have a time frame in which to complete something as arduous as a novel when you cannot even form four cohesive sentences. whew! it is making me frustrated. and doubtful. and that in turn is making me unmotivated.

someone, somewhere, help!!

somebody please shut this chile up.

okay, so i wasn't going to talk about it. really. i wasn't. but this chick....whew.


i think everyone pretty much knows who keke wyatt is. the semi-successful r&b singer who had that song with avant called 'my first love', then stabbed her husband and disappeared for a while. well she is back and she did an interview with Essence.com a few weeks ago, which i'm sure everyone has heard about......in it she basically puts her foot in her mouth by saying some very offensive things about black people and her white mother's use of the n-word. the particular section i'm talking about is this:

Essence.com: What is the biggest misconception you think people have about you?

K.W.: People always say I look really different in person and ask, “What are you mixed with?” Then when I tell them they say, “I thought you were all Black!” I get that a lot because my mother is Caucasian and my father is Native American and Black.
Essence.com: Do you identify as a Black woman?

K.W.: I am a woman. I ain’t like Tiger Woods. The truth is I’m 25 percent Black. I claim to be Black, Native American and White. I’m all of it. If you ask me, “What are you?” I’m going to say, “I’m a woman.” I stand up for all women. I don’t care if you’re Black, White, Chinese, whatever. But I don’t know what my mama put on my birth certificate…. (Laughs)

Essence.com: So did your mom ever discuss race with you?

K.W.: I know when I was a little girl she would never let me and my brother watch movies that criticized Black people or where White people treated Black people really disgusting, like Roots. She didn’t want us to see how White people treated Black people because she probably thought we might start hating White people.
Essence.com: Was she afraid of how you and your brothers might perceive her?

K.W.: I used to tell her we’re not blind to the fact because we’re sitting there listening to people call her a “n---er lover” or accusing my daddy of being a “sell out” because he’s with a White chick. I told her she didn’t have to hide that stuff from us because we did see and hear about it, and kids did treat us differently.
Essence.com: Did she ever talk to you about the N-word?

K.W.: My mom was raised around African-American people all her life. She can cornrow and everything. All she knows is the African-American way of living, because her stepfather was Black and she was raised by his family. She will use the N-word like it’s going out of style. I say, “Mama you can’t just go around using the N-word,” and she’s like, “I don’t give a damn. I say what I want to say. N---a ain’t no color, it’s an ignorant person.”

Essence.com: But that word is still synonymous with Black folk. So you couldn’t watch Roots, but she used the N-word around you and your siblings?

K.W.: No, she doesn’t say “n---er,” she says “n---a” and says it in front of everybody, every day. She has always said it since I was a little girl. Hell, I thought my name was “n---er” for a long time (laughs). We never thought about it being a bad word.

Essence.com: Wow. So she didn’t want you to watch Roots, but she referred to you and your brother with the N-word? Do you think it’s time for her to stop using it?

K.W.: People should feel free to say what they want to say as long as they don’t use it to hurt other people. I don’t think “n---a” is a bad word. I don’t think it’s directed toward people of color. Now, the word “n---er,” if you call me that, I will kick your a-- because now you’re trying to be nasty and hurt my feelings. It depends on how you’re using it.

Essence.com: But do you really think there's enough of a distinction between the two to make exceptions?

K.W.: Yes, because back in the day they were saying it with the “er” on the end. I think it’s just like saying Negro, because the word in the dictionary it means “ignorant person.”
Essence.com: Yes, and many people still believe that “ignorant people” equals "Black people."

K.W.: At the end of the day, you’re the one who is ignorant. I don’t think people should use the word so much. I hate how everyone thinks that Black people are beneath them, even Asians, Whites and ...Mexicans. No, I’m not all Black, but I definitely stand up for the Black people. They’ve had it rough, they can’t help the fact that they’re skin is dark, or that their nose is a lil’ wider or that the curls in their hair might be tighter. I don’t think that it’s fair for people who look like me—the light skin, pointy nose and pretty hair—to think that dark-complected people are any less than them. Who am I? I’m not better than you. I breathe the same air and I bleed the same blood. Nobody is better than anybody else. We are all in this struggle called life. I think brown skin is beautiful because people like me have to lay out in the sun to try and look like you. My best friends are Black—I mean, Black-Black—and I think that’s so beautiful. I think that’s why I decided to make my children Black...I could have married a White dude and my kids probably would have looked completely White. That’s not what I wanted. Now, they can go outside and get a for-real tan (laughs). I think Black is beautiful. I stand for the African-American people until the day I die.

Essence.com: What do you hope your legacy will be?

K.W.: My mission in life is to help all these little girls that come from nothing. I want them to know that they are a rose. It doesn’t matter if you came from nothing, you are still something. It don’t really matter because you are still God’s child. I want people to remember me as a real R&B singer. You don’t have to like me personally or my life as long as you love what I’m going to give you and that’s real music.


yeah....i kn