Still Jones'n

I watched the BET Awards the other night and I have to say the Love Jones throwback, flashback, heart attack moment killed it.
When Nia Long first got on stage I thought. Hmmm. Then by the time she got the first line out I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Then when I heard Lorenz Tate got his fine chocolate morsel of a man say "Say baby..." I was screaming again 'LOVE JONES!'

BET Videos

Sounds crazy I know but I was in the room with 2 other girls and they were at the top of their lungs too, high five'n like we were at a Basketball game and all the players were naked. Then my phone started to blow up with texts from all the other Love Jones Junkies I know who were going crazy.
There is definitely something to be said about this movie because since 1995 I've seen it about 177 times...or more and each time it's over I think. Damn, they should do a part 2. Like a where are they now kinda thing. Like we catch up with Nina and Darius and they have 2 kids and he's a successful writer and she's a successful photographer like the woman that takes the pictures of the babies inside of a sunflower. She's relocated back to Chicago and... I don't quite know yet. I'm just hoping maybe someone can get this entry to Theodore Witcher and let him know I'm down to help him work on part 2. It's not over for me.
I'm still Jones'n.

WORK WORK WORK!

I'm feeling like one of the sad minions in Evileen's Sweat Factory on the Wiz. (if you've never seen it please don't talk to me!) It's 88 degrees outside in an apt with NO AC and I can almost feel the sweat dripping down my back from that hot jumpsuit they had to wear as life whispers in my ear "Suffering is good for the soul. Now SUFFER!" Because ITS 88 DEGREES OUTSIDE AND I DON'T HAVE AC.

Revelations

No, not like Revelations in the Bible, I'm talking about Self Revelations. Like when you come to the realization that certain things are not in order in your life. Never mind the fact that up until that point you never heard that little voice in the back of your head saying, "Uuuuh...Hey, over here. Yo! Are you paying attention to this sh*t? Helloooo! Look up stupid!" Because for some reason everything seemed on point.

NEW *ISH!

It's been a little while so I thought I'd give you a lil something new...or at least something that's not already posted...like it's not already up...look don't judge me.
Shut up and enjoy!

This is the Problem

All right, at the risk of sounding like my mother or even my grandmother (taking a deep breath of preparation) I have to say this: "Remember the good old days when music videos were fun and cool and you got all the hot new dance moves? You know, way back in them days when you had didn't know what was being said in a song until you were about 21 and you were sitting with a friend and it suddenly dawned on you like "Oh shit, that's what they were talking about?" Is it just me or are all them music videos fighting to see who can corrupt the kids the most?" Have you seen the latest Usher video "Lil Freak". Better still, have you heard the words?



"Put her hands in your pants and be my lil freak"

Huh? Really Usher? Dayum! So you're telling women to be bisexual for your personal pleasure. Hmmm. Something to think about huh parents? This is what he's telling your kids to do because let's face it that's who's going to be following those steps. So the next time your bumping this or any of the other overtly sexual songs in your car know that your child is somewhere acting it out.
I'm Just Saying!
SIDEBAR: What's up with fellas trying to put women on some bisexual *ish? Then turn around and get mad because women are all on each other in the club? Have to explore that in the next post.

Deuces

Black History?

I can't say I've been watching the Winter Olympic games because basically just looking at all that snow and ice gives me the chills. That's not entertaining to me. So I was completely caught off guard when I got the news about Speedskater Shani Davis, the first African-American athlete to capture an individual gold medal in the Winter Olympics four years ago and repeat the feat in this years games. All while rocking a "leave nothing to the imagination" body suit. Oooow!
Like many other African Americans I'm overcome with pride for his accomplishments but part of me feels like he's not the first Black Speed Skater. In honor of black history month I want to share the story of Esra Smith, a hardworking family man caught in the brutal winter storm of 1940 in Acadiana Louisiana.
After a fresh 13" of snow fell over the small town, Esra Smith, was forced out into the elements to get some food for his family. Due to the heavy snowfall he discovered the only way into town was to cross a "WHITE'S ONLY" pond used in the summer months for swimming. After he scowered the area for any passers and said a prayer for his life, Esra stepped onto the ice. 
"What you doin boy?" Esra heard just moments later as he fought to keep his balance on the slick surface. The chill of death ran up his spine as he turned to see 4 whites approaching the edge of the pond like a pack of wolves searching for a kill.  Esra began to widen his strides and skate for dear life. "We're gonna get you boy! We're gonna kill you!" they yelled as they took to the ice and started after him. Esra kicked it into high gear and was on the other side of the 1/2 mile pond in 45 sec. Setting a unrecorded record as the fastest and first black speed skater. Then he found a large stick and whacked the ice until it crack sending his pursuers under the water and to their death. He wiped his prints from the stick and ran off like his life depended on it because Lord knows it did.
Shout out to Esra and Shani for making Black History!

Pain = Laughter

Sometimes the things we find funny are the things that are most true!
Check out this video of me talking about wetting the bed as a child. TRUE STORY!
If you ever wet the bed then you can feel my pain and if you ever shared a bed with someone who wet the bed (sorry lil sis) you know this story all too well.
Enjoy!

Almost But Not Quite

I recently ran across this article on my handy dandy USAToday iPhone ap when I read the headline:

More retailers offer fashionable clothing for plus-size womenRead full article 

So, I guess someone finally realized not everyone got sucked into ordering Shawn T's Hip Hop Abs or Susan Lucci's Malibu Pilates Chair from the 2am infomercial. Maybe at their last conference someone metioned that they thought eating disorders went out of style in '04 along with the Ricki Lake Show. Not to mention with all of the steroids and sugar that concentrates our food the only people able to fit most of these tiny styles are newborns and crack addicts. So welcome to 2010 retailers.

But I would be re missed if I didn't take this opportunity to say "Almost but Not Quite" because there is a group of women that are not being serviced by most retailers at all and that is the medium/thick chick. This woman has a lil extra on her arms and back and she has round thighs, hips and/or a big butt. Not to be confused with the chicks that are about 100-150lbs over weight who tries to pass off a waist belt for a waist. No I'm talking about a woman who's a little more filled out but can't shop in the Plus Size Department. (No diss plus size chicks...I'm just sayin)

And unfortunately for the medium/thick chick finding clothes that accommodate her is a challenge. Either the shirt sleeves are too skinny or the pants are cut for a chick with absolutely nothing in the back and a lower case 'V' in the front. FYI...Two inch zippers are for baby clothes.
Going shopping is most women's favorite past time but not for me. Going shopping is a burden because no matter if I go a size up or down. Something is going to hang wrong. Now I'm frustrated and depressed which sends me to the Cinnabon stand for a Caramel Pecanbun with extra icing. Yes, Extra. I told you my feelings were hurt. Then after I finish the entire thing in one sitting I'm even more depressed because I realize I'm that much further from the crack head clothes and much closer to the car cover. So I wander along the streets until I find a bar because nothing is going to cheer me up now except 3 white wines and the sweet compliments of some some lonely old man sitting next to me smelling of desperation and Viagra. So I say all that to say the fashion industry needs to consider girls like me, the 'in-between chick', and create that line so I can start feeling good about shopping again. Because if this continues, I really will be shopping in the Plus department which will then drive down the availability of the fashionable styles that retailers are adding to the department. It's a vicious cycle.

FYI: I'm sure someone is reading this like "OMG! Just lose some weight! Duh!" So let me be very clear: I love my size (somewhere between 10-12, depending on what I've been eating) and I like having thighs and hips and ass! That's what women are supposed to have. Not dissing naturally skinny girls; you're rocking what God gave you. WORK IT! But I'm not about to kill myself and try to conform to some unrealistic image of what a woman is supposed to look like. Pass me the pasta and lets do this!

Oh Boy!

Okay, i just had a Dirty Old Woman moment. Have you seen the new Omarion Video? Yum. Is it just me or are these little boys looking good as hell these days? Good enough to eat? Yummy like chocolate on homemade biscuits with a plate of strawberries and some Champagne? You understand. Definitely feel myself gearing up for a young boy faze this summer. Between him and Trey Songs somebody 19-25 yr old son is in trouble.
Enjoy!

Catch Me Live Online

I'm joining the the Urban Hang Suite Fam and I'm inviting you along. Log on to
Urban Hang Suite Radio

This and every Thursday night at 11PM EST/10PM CST.

Tonight's topic is "The Truth About Cheating" and you know I'm going in.  
Want to join the party? Then drop me a line on Facebook or Twitter  and I'll def shout you out.
Talk to you tonight.

When It Hurts So Bad!

I was thinking the other day and I must admit it made me laugh. Why is it when our relationships fail and we lose the love we thought would last forever, we try to find the most hurtful, gut busting, heart-wrenching songs to play over and over and over again? It’s like we want to relive the break up every 3-4 minutes through someone else’s story. Or 5 min and 09 secs if your playing it’s Brian McKnight "Kiss Your Love Goodbye” .

I know I’m not the only one who’s laid in an empty bathtub, wearing a pair of the draws he left behind, on a hunger strike, listening to Sade. Belting song lyrics through nonstop sobs, contemplating downing the bottle of bleach arms length away, just so the pain can end. Okay maybe that was just me but you feel what I’m saying.

Then, as if you weren’t already swimming around in an emotional cesspool, one of your friend drops by with a mix of the songs they listened to the last time they had their heart broken like a suicide soundtrack. What they’re basically saying is:

“If you really want to feel like sh*t listen to this. Okay, I’m leaving now and I Ieft a rusty razor right next to you, okay? I’ll check on you tomorrow. Have fun!”

I'm wondering... Do we secretly take pleasure in the pain of heartbreak? Do we listen to these songs because we find comfort in knowing somebody else has had their a** kicked by love? Do we suggest painful songs to friends as a shared experience or is it sweet revenge because we’ve told them “You need to stop messing with that fool,” over a million times but they never wanted to listen? Then they’re calling you at 3 am like “you won’t believe what he/she did,” like you didn’t have work the next day.

Yeah I’ve been there on. Both sides.

So I’m sending this one out to everyone who’s had their heart broken or if you’re going through it right now. My suggestion is get out of those old draws, put some water in that tub and wash away your stale a**. Dig deep and paint on a smile, turn on some feel good music and feel good because life is still beautiful.
(Repost from former Blog for your enjoyment)

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NYC on the LateNight

Last Night (this morning) I found myself in the club Quo (28th and 10th Ave). A cute spot but the dirtiest bathrooms I've ever seen in my life, HANDS DOWN! I hit the bar immediately because the drinks I had earlier were fading fast and I wanted to "stay on the 53rd floor." The bartender comes over, takes my order then proceeds to mix one of the worst drink I've had in a long time. I could tell by the way he nervously tipped the bottle over the glass like he was afraid to pour too much Iiquor which led me to believe the drink would to be worthless. I took a sip and my assumptions were confirmed. The drink was so weak it wouldn't give a infant fetal alcohol syndrome even if you served it to him straight.
So I say to the bartender "I can't taste anything." Then he proceeds to inform me that he could make the drink stronger IF I gave him a tip.  Tip? TIP? First of all, a tip is courtesy from me to you. It's a way to say "thank you for your consideration and going beyond the call of duty. For example, a cab driver getting you to your destination in a timely fashion despite heavy traffic, a bellhop taking your heavy luggage to your room despite the fact elevators are out or a messenger waiting 20 extra minutes while you package up what you want him to deliver. If you're doing your job regular then what you're getting paid covers that. You get tipped when you do your job great just because you showed up to work. That's your job asshole!

SYAU Blagojevich!

Over the past year I've noticed that people have lost the racist filter which helps them filter the disrespectful things they would normally only say around other people of their race. Black people calling White people "Honkies" at the fish fry. White people calling Black people N***as on the golf course (with or without Tiger Woods around). And Middle Easterners talking about everybody right in their face because we don't know what the hell they're saying on that cell phone while we ride along in the back of that cab. These days everybody is saying whatever they want and they don't care who's around to hear. 

Just today, Associated Press reports that ousted Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich (the dude that tried to sell Obama's Senate seat) stated:

"I'm blacker than Barack Obama. I shined shoes. I grew up in a five-room apartment. My father had a little laundromat in a black community not far from where we lived."  
Read Full Article. 

Really? So let me get this straight because he lived in a small apartment, that's supposed to make him black? So is he saying all black people live in sub par conditions because that's what hearing? And he said he shined shoes. So we're supposed to agree that he's black because of this? Why? Because that's the kind of work black people do: shine shoes, open doors, and carry luggage. So black people are servants because that's also what I'm hearing? Now let's explore the final part of his statement: the laundromat in the black community was NOT FAR from your house.  You know what that means. His family didn't live in the hood. His father just set up shop there. Probably with some overprices machines that barely cleaned your clothes and a spin cycle that never really got the water out so you had to use another machine to respin your clothes to get out the access? Then at the end of the day he slammed that metal gate down, locked the 37 locks on the door and burned rubber to the other side. What's next? He's black because he got fired from his job? FYI, ex Governor, all that puts you about as close to being black as me living near Sea World makes me a dolphin.

Someone please tell Blagojevich that nothing about his life makes him black because at the end of the day he's white and he's never in life experienced any the racism, fear and overall contempt that President Obama indured just in the 2 years of campaigning. 

So take you're medication and SYAU (Shut Yo Ass Up) Blagojevich! You'll never be black and you should be happy because if you were you're ass would have been jail mates with Michael Vick, T.I., Lil Wayne and Plaxico Burris for conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud and solicitation of bribery.

Are You Eff'n Serious?

It’s was another day of surfing the web in search of the latest headlines, horoscopes and words of encouragement, when I came across what sparked the title of today’s entry that I will be incorporating into my Blog in the future. It’s a lil something I’d like to call:

Are you Eff’n Serious? 
Michael Jackson Memorial nominated for Outstanding Variety Television award by NAACP Image Awards 

Foreal, how did this happen? Was one of the mentally impaired people that every company is required to hire, given the opportunity to choose a winner for this category (also apart of the equal opportunity requirements)? Or maybe it was a big snowstorm and the only person in the building was the janitor who had not quite gotten his GED yet, and the nominations had to go out right that moment leaving the task in his hands and unfortunately he didn’t know that Memorial is another word for Funeral. As in Loss. As in Eye on the Sparrow.

Now, I understand that we are seriously under represented on TV but it’s hard for me to believe there was nothing else to nominate? No Celebrity Comedy Roast? Old Sold Train episodes? Hell, I would have been okay with a high school talent show that aired on some Public Access channel. Not a damn funeral! FYI, that big shiny box they had up front wasn’t a podium for a midget, Michael Jackson was in there!

To be fair I can see how they could have been confused especially with Usher’s “emotional” rendition of “Gone To Soon” which he ended by snatching of his sunglasses and reaching for the casket like it was suddenly rolling away. Then there was the dramatic Usher/Jackson family hug, and who can forget Usher burying his head in Kathryn Jackson’s lap like he was a contestant in a pie-eating contest. You know what, now that I think about it, I’m taking everything I said back. This whole thing is Usher’s fault.

Seriously though, this nomination was a horrible call by the NAACP and if this is the kind of decision making going on over there it's not wonder black people never got reparations. I'm just saying NAACP, in the future if you find yourself grabbing at straws over who to give an Image Award to just remember, you can always give it to me.

Why?

We all talking about what's wrong with the kids: They're over sexed from the TV, the music, the steroids in the food is making their hormones rage. Well clearly none of that is the issue the problem is us. The Adults because some adult gave the green light to this performance and judging by the faces of the little boys in the crowd there's going to be a lot of dirt towels and socks in the laundry basket later.

Finally!

Today while surfing around the web looking for new ignorance to talk about, I stumbled across the story of Mrs. Iris Robinson the wife of Ireland's senior most politician who recently cheated on her husband. In the last 5 years it seems we've been inundated with stories of cheating husbands: Kobe Bryant and the anal violation, Governor Elliot Spitzer and the hooker ring, Senator McGreevy and his boy toy, John Edwards and his love child, and most recently Tiger Woods and his harem of hoes.
But for me what's worse than hearing the stories is watching the press conference where the wife stands next to the husband as he delivers a stilted address of his mistakes and how sorry he is when we all know he wasn't sorry when he was waxing all that #@$!
So it was refreshing to finally see a man in this reverse role. Check out Mr. Robinson as he is interviewed about his wife's affair and why he decided to stay. That's right fellas women are getting it poppin too. So let's all get out press conference speeches ready.

Nodding in Confusion

Excuse my lateness on this (I don't have cable) but I'm sooooo feeling Jay-Z's new video "On the The Next." Unfortunately, I don't know what any of the images have to do with the song besides maybe the burning basketballs but I'm giving him 10 cool points for excluding 33 half butt naked stripper chicks forcing me to watch ass throughout the song.

Check it out and tell me what you think.

5 Reasons Why I Don’t Date Fat Men.

I’m sure someone will read the title of this blog and say “That is so mean. I can’t believe she would say something like that! Hadiyah you wrong!” Well I said it and I’m not apologizing because it needs to be said. There’s an obsession with weight and men are in no way affected by it. To be a fat man in this country is completely okay. Fat guys are funny, they get women that are completely out of their league (According to Jim, King of Queens) and they are even rich rappers that all the women want (Rick Ross, Fat Joe and Notorious B.I.G. - God Bless the dead) and I think it’s because of all these examples fat men everywhere think they have it going on. FYI sweety, that walk is not Swaggar that’s unbalanced pressure on your knees and ankles. 

Things have got to change and I'm taking a stand against the madness. I remember once this fat dude I know asked me what happened after he noticed I had picked up a few pounds. And it wasn't even out of concern like "Is everything okay?" No it was audacious like "Dayum girl, you slippin." Meanwhile he was standing there with the Octomom's third trimester stomach. Not to mention the many times I've gotten an offer from some big, circular shaped, mass of flesh complete with the head nod and wink like he’s doing me a favor. BEAT IT! If you are a fat man you CAN NOT have my phone number. HELL NAW. My apartment keeps good heat so I don't need fogging up the windows with all that body heat.

I mean really, why are men fat anyway. Think about it they don’t have hormonal issues, water retention, and they don't have babies. So again I ask, WHY ARE MEN FAT? I'm sure most of you have never thought of it but lucky for you I've discovered that fat on a man says a lot about what kind of man he is and here are THE 5 REASONS I DON’T DATE FAT BOYZ:

1.   If a man is fat HE IS LAZY. Fact: A man's metabolism is 5-10% faster than a woman's so he's already at an advantage. A man can take to the court with his boys, run a few games of basketball, tennis, soccer, etc., come home and have a six pack of abs. Maybe it's not that easy but it's close. So if he can’t do this for himself I can't depend on him to go out of his way for anything that I want or need. “Baby the car broke down, I'm stranded on the side of the road. I need you to come get me and the kids.” After a long paused, some involuntary heavy breathing and a sigh of irritation I’m sure I’d hear “Why don’t you try to flag someone down. I’m sure a good Samaritan will pick you up. I’ll stay on the phone with you until then.” Anything that takes energy he’s probably not going to do it.

2.   If a man is fat that HE HAS NO CONTROL. He’s going to eat any and everything he wants all the time. Which means if I’m not around and he sees a woman he likes…need I say more? I can’t trust this man because I know that his appetite is the only thing that truly matters to him.

3.   If a man is fat and his excuse is "I'm an emotional eater," HE'S GOT FEMININE TENDANCIES aka BITCH. Science tells us that women are emotional and men are critical. Women deal in fantasy and men in hard facts. So if he’s sitting around eating Häagen-Dazs®, watching Grey’s Anatomy, crying like he's got PMS, my period is probably going to start because there’s an overload of estrogen in the room.   

4.   If a man is fat HE'S NOT HEALTH CONSCIOUS. Diabetes, High Blood are serious diseases that can take you off the earth and he may be suffering from these diseases and never even know it because he hasn't been to the doctor. Beyond that he may even have a few sexually transmitted diseases lying dormant in his system waiting to pass on. (FYI…every man should be tested cause some are not as sexually contentious as they should be but that’s another blog) Bottom line is I could wake up with a bubbling mass of skin and smelly discharge because he thought it was just a regular bump.

5.   Finally, if a man is fat that means quite frankly HE'S FAT and that shit is not sexy! Stretchmarks on his ass, hotdog rolls on the back of his neck, the space where his pecs should be there are supple Christmas ornament shaped boobs. Then below the belt his package is hiding under his moon shaped belly shading the goodies from the sun which is keeping them cold and therefore not at their maximum potential. COLD + PACKAGE = SAD

In closing, I wrote this blog not to be mean nor to be insensitive but to call attention to the double standard that exists between men and women when it comes to weight. There's a ridiculous amount of pressure only on women when we all should be trying to be our best selves and live as healthy as possible. So fellas get it together.

Enough!

Don’t get me wrong I totally get it. Kanye West was a drunken idiot who crashed the VMA stage and stole Taylor Swift’s moment of glory and with the rest of the world I fumed and cursed him for being a bully to this sweet young girl. But how long are we going to have to sit by and watch her accept awards that when we're really honest with ourselves, she doesn’t deserve. Last night she nabbed the People’s Choice Award for ‘Female Artist of the Year’, in 2009 the Country Music Awards ‘Album of the Year’ and 5 American Music Awards including ‘Album of the Year’ over the greatest entertainer of our lifetime Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson people. An artist whose music is known all over the world and will live on for years to come and who had just tragically died. Album of the Year? Really? Hell most of the people I know can’t sing along to one song on a Taylor Swift album meanwhile Osama Bin Ladin is probably throwing Michael Jackson cave parties. Look, I’m not trying to sound like a hater nor downplay her accomplishments. Taylor Swift do your thing. I’m simply saying, “Enough!”