May 2005 Archives

Cowboy Troy - Loco Motive

Yo, it's the latest in rap-fusion, dun...you don't know nay-than about this "Hick-Hop" son, kna'mean. Cowboy Troy is that next ish - And you know I had to cop a t-shirt while I was at it...can't wait for it to get here!

Check out the RB (radioblog - click the link up top) and you'll be ready to get yo thang on too. YEE-HAW!

note: i'm probably stir crazy, bored to tears, or recovering from the Itis, but c'mon...you DO know I ain't going out on no gimmicky, psuedo rap BS like this, right? Ok, I did buy the shirt for real though - it matches my Pumas ;-)

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. after a management conference, my weekend gets an early start with a 1/2 vacation day. shweet!


2. spend too much time with a disgruntled county employee, but still manage to get in my weapons license application. yes, I did say Weapons. License. Application.


3. my realtor & I walk my Dirt...


4. update on the Dirt:: I have woods y'all! Not a whole forest, only about 10 feet of trees, but it's mine!


5. Off to a beautiful sunny start, Hammy & I hang out at his favorite park...buy ice cream...then pick up The Chaos...


6. And head to the drive in to see Madagascar (I'd give this a C+) and Crash (definitely an A-).


7. End the day with plans on attending the Jazz Festival at Piedmont park Sunday, and....


8. ...it RAINS...


9. ...and it Rains...


10. ...and it keeps ON RAINING!


11. It occurs to me that it rains EVERY YEAR on the Jazz Fest. Hammy & I hibernate like bears.


12. Frustrated & driven to napping by the rain, we finally head over to Daddy D'z for some Ribs (since I was far too lazy to actually fire up my own grill). I snatch up the last 1/2 slab (Yes!), and Hammy & I finish off the long-weekend in a sticky, sauce-induced stupor. Oh yeah, those ribs were apparently laced with the Itis.

So, um...yeah...I 'spose having leftover ribs for breakfast would be bad, right? Very, very...very...bad... <sneakin into the kitchen to eat leftovers>

Ok, there's no real good reason for this...so without further ado:

Jeff Green is a 32 year old american, in Arizona, whose wife passed. Due to the great pain he suffered due to her death, he did something totally out of character for a normal and sane person. He said, "I could no longer take the pain that my wife's death caused me and I brought her back home."


Yes, that is dude's dead wife in the table. For the rest of the story, click here.

Now that is some kind of memorial for Memorial Day, hm? Somewhere out there, a former soldier is probably gunning for my a$$ - I'm so wrong for this. Aight, I'm out...going to get me a rib!

sorry I've been MIA - I've got a lot on my mind that I wanted to talk about, but I came down with a pretty bad case of blog-yn-gitis. I lost my blog voice - everything I typed was raspy & fuzzy, kinda hard to understand. And since I wanted to get my own voice back, I've been avoiding the blogosphere - didn't want to mimic anyone else's. Hope all of y'all are doing well.

Ok, so I'd also been afflicted with a pretty bad case of PMS, and every thought that was occurring to me was filled with vitriol. I wanted to examine the 101 list, but I'm struggling with my road rage, weight loss and workout schedule as we speak. Still need to speak to this whole classism thing, with Ms. Wilbanks still on the horizon, and another stressed out Black man giving Buckhead-residing Atlantans the willies by threatening to kill himself on a crane (note: he's on an 8-story crane, threatening to do himself in. Why are you scared?). But I digress...

Antyhoo, God keeps waking me up extra early - 4:30 am & 5:00am, and I'd been fighting him to go back to sleep. Well, not this am - He was not having it. So I got up early, and decided to love myself. Oh, get your mind outta the daggone gutter - I don't mean like that...

I cleaned my kitchen, not that it was nasty, but it was cluttered, and the clutter was inhibiting my ability to think straight. I burned some music, favorite stuff like Mary & Erykah, songs that I can blare in my car and sing to. I made myself some Chai tea, another favorite. I put on my favorite circle skirt with the silver sequins, that violates my company's dress policy, but is too cute not to wear, and added my diamond hoop earrings, just because they match the sequins on the skirt so well...

Stopped at Mickey D's and got my fruit buzz on, because my body deserved some love too, and it is pretty tasty. And then Mary, Erykah and I worked some things out in the car on the way to work, for a GOOD 45 minutes (traffic was hellacious). And I swear, I didn't go over 80MPH the whole time, and I hardly weaved thru traffic...bear with me y'all, the road rage is real serious, and 80MPH for me is slow. Me, Mary & Erykah sang and danced, and had a good ole time - you know how we do. And other folks in traffic were tickled or stunned that this big ole' black chick with the crazy nappy hair was amusing herself.

Stopped at Walmart when I got to work, and bought a bouquet of wildflowers for my desk, just because. I curved into my company's parking lot on two wheels, radio blasting, and coworkers eyeing me like my mind had slipped a gear. The whole time, I'm thinking: "you better hope I come into the parking lot every day singing at the top of my lungs. The day I stop singing, is the day you should get really worried".

The whole process got me thinking - I can't expect anyone to love me, if I'm not loving myself. I can't expect anyone to take care of me, if I'm not taking care of myself. I certainly don't expect anyone to respect me, if I don't respect myself. Given the fact that we're confronted with negativity in our surroundings constantly, almost bombarded by it even, we should all embrace each other and hug e'ery day. But if we can't manage that, the highest praise we can give to Him (other than praising Him directly), IMHO, is loving our beautiful self.

Aight, enough with the preachiness already, Ms. Saga....you've got work to do, and Common is calling you (BE - and yes, this is good, no doubt). Y'all be easy. My beautiful mind needs to handle some things...lol.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. You didn't forget my BIRTHDAY, did'ja?


2. My coworkers take me to lunch for my b-day, ply me with food & chocolate cake, send me nekkid men & money, then they send me back to work...


3. I get phone calls from e'erywhere, even one from an ex back home I hadn't talked to in years. Happily, I get nothing whatsoever accomplished the rest of the day.


4. ...subsequently, my coworkers will probably never take me to lunch again.


5. I head home to vegetate & beautify. And even though I spent my b-day nite home alone, I enjoyed it, immensely.


6. Whirlwind tour: MAC counter, LB, Dendera, MIA's house - all to finish the beautification, before the ...


7. Adult Novelty Party: Overheard: "Do you have a waterproof version of this one in brown?"


8. Having placed my order (NO COMMENTS FROM THE PEANUT GALLERY), we head to another house for a BBQ, not far from The Dirt...


9. The G & S BBQ: ...where a coworker mixes me this drink, containing Captain Morgan, Triple Sec, and some top secret ingredients. Something I like to call a Drunken Starfish (sorta like a Beach Cruiser, but WAY more Alkyhol). All's I know is...I was still drunk 12-16 hours later...


10. Bones & trashtalk, Spades & trashtalk, Food & trashtalk, Drink & trashtalk. Trashtalk & MORE trashtalk...that's what I'm talking about. And good music, good food, good company and the Phrase game, until early in the AM.


11. Recovering from my hangover (after 5pm, when the drinks finally wore off), I'm dozing off...


12. I get a phone call from a stranger, who knows my dad's name, my mom's name, the hospital I was born in...turns out to be a cousin I have never met, who has been looking for me for years, and who found my name, address & phone number for free on Zaba Search (don't sleep, that jawn is serious about locating folks), and I find out I have a whole huge branch of my family here in the Atl, as well as AL. Another cousin of mine, as well as my family reunion, are both literally right around the corner. W.O.W. - I'm stunned still...

I'm going to have to post about that Family thing, which has a lot to do with me being stunned. Rightch now though? I'm tired, sore and happy as a cat whose fur has been stroked for several hours...so let me curl up under this hea bed...

05.20.66. my birthday.

I've been wondering for a couple of weeks why this one seems significant. I mean, I'm hurtling toward another major one next year, and I've got majors behind me. I've had parties, shindigs, torn the club up, and let many pass, unnoticed.

This year, however, I feel as though I'm on the threshhold to something, well - huge. I don't really know why - most of the things on my plate (the Dirt, the Gig, the MBA program) are public, and I don't have any hidden projects on the horizon.

However, at my gut level - I'm looking forward to this one. Not because I'm expecting a huge present, surprise pary, reward or something to earmark the passing of another year. Nor, at my gut level, do I honestly feel like the achievement in this instance is an apparent reward for the hard work I've put in.

I feel like a door that I'm only vaguely aware of is about to open, and that everything I've done in my life to date has allowed me to be prepared to step through it. I don't know what it will lead to, and I don't know what the future holds. But I have a supreme sense of contentment surrounding the idea that, whatever it is - I'm ready.

Deep thoughts aside (shameless plug follows)...feel free to shower me with gifts, ply me with alkyhol, steal me off to some unknown location, or send me a Man's man that will help me burn a hole in the floor. I reposted & revised the Amazon wish list - see About Me section, in case you're wondering what I might like. Or just send me an e-card & let me know you care ;-)

...and when I step through that door, be waiting to support me on the other side, ok?

I don't usually put stock in superstitious mumbo-jumbo. However, I've had these things proven about myself, time & again, so a primer:

The bull seldom rushes forward to stomp on your toes. He simply wants to be left alone. Don't disturb him and he'll remain contented. Press him and he becomes obstinate. Shove too hard, tease too much, and be prepared for violent rage. He can go for months and years on end. exhibiting perfect poise and control, inhaling the fragrance of the posies and ignoring the nervous clacking and cluck­ing all around him. Then some unexpected day, a pushy person will pile one straw too many on his broad back. He'll snort, begin to paw the earth, narrow his eyes-and charge. Get out of the way as fast as you can and run for your life. The Taurean temper is seldom displayed impulsively, but when the bull gets mad, he can destroy everything in his path, up to and including Scorpios. Destroy is not the right word. Demolish is better. It may be some time before the dust settles and peace reigns again. Some Taureana have such control that they only charge once or twice in a whole lifetime. Even the quick-tempered ones won't erupt more than once or twice a year, if that often. Still, it's best to remember that Taurus usually doesn't get just a little mad or annoyed. If the incident is large enough to rock his normally placid emotions, you can count on blind fury, no ordinary anger.

This is a girl who will stay up night after night with a sick child and pray him back to health with a rock-bound faith-the kind of woman who can tenderly replenish a man's store of hope when the world has defeated him, in­fusing him with her own brave, dauntless example. She's as dependable and predictable as a grandfather clock, as capable of patching a broken pipe or fixing a blown fuse as she is of baking a cherry pie or sewing on a missing button. There's always room enough and love enough in her heart to welcome strangers and relatives to her hearth, and her house will warm you when you've just come in out of a storm. Like my friend said, a Taurus fe­male is "a tall woman.

Even if you thought you knew me, now you have a much more thorough understanding.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. The Blogger Meetup - the Usual Suspects: (pictured l to r:) Xquizzyt1, BrownSuga, JusWritinLife, Karsh (BlackGayBlogger), EJ(EJFlavors), InMyWriteMind, Sagaciously (me)


2. ...someone who shall remain nameless is NOTORIOUSLY missing...


3. heard during Blogger Meetup at Barlay's, about the house band: "...look, ain't no way he's playing this song...his fingers ain't even touching the keyboard...he's only got THREE CHORDS...


4. ...And while I know she's Magnum PI's distant cousin, how does BrownSuga know E'ERYBODY in the joint?


5. EJ, you are hearby ordered to STOP READING MY MIND. Or at least not call me on my poker face.


6. Mental Note: Neva play spades against EJ since he can read my poker face.


7. spend 10:45pm - 11:45pm stuck on I-285 between Candler Road and Memorial drive (about 15 miles of road) due to construction. Thanks, GA DOT.


8. play in the Dirt, again: The Dirt has no plot lines, no foundation, barely defined curb and unfinished road, but you want me to pick out Home Theater Options. Some of y'all done lost your minds...


9. Realtor: "We specialize in this kinda thing..." No, honestly, it's cool - I really don't want y'all to make that June closing date, take your time...


10. Did I mention the Ebay Auction?


11. Hammy brings home Outstanding Student of the Year, and Most Improved awards from school. Dinner at ChiChi's (his choice) to celebrate...


12. the Sperm Donor is playing with the phone. Hm, you missed Hammy's birthday, and you have the nerve to hang up when I answer...whateva man.

Warning: Shameless Self Promotion Ahead....

Ok, my closet literally is busting at the seams, and I can't fit another dayum thing in it. So, since the Dirt is also sucking me dry, and I need to clean house to prep for moving - I'm selling out all my stuff. Clothing for all seasons, jackets & outerwear, formal (bridesmaid gear) and casual, as well as tons of career wear. Clothes are mostly Lane Bryant, but I do have some Ralph Lauren, David's Bridal, Enzo, Victoria's Secret (shoes & accessories only), Spiegel, Nordstrom, Nine West, Anne Klein, etc. that I need to be DONE with!!!!

I have *brand new with tags* clothing, lots of gently used clothing, shoes and accessories that I'll be listing over the next few weeks. Current sizes range from 14-24, shoes from 9-1/2 to 11. Future listing sizes will range from 12-26. Prices will range from $.99 and up. Sidebar: this is taking far longer than I thought it would. Antyhoo - once I get thru round One - My Closet, I'll probably be adding a treadmill (unless theChaos finally comes to claim it), some barstools, books and other larger scale items.

It's probably best to just find my seller ID and see what I have listed. Click here for my seller ID & feedback info, and click here for my currently listed items. Email me via Ebay if you have any questions, and I will answer them as honestly as possible (you DO see that 100% feedback rating? I intend to maintain that ;-) However, you can also email me at saga_30311ATyahooDOTcom. <<< you know what to do

Oh yes, and as I post this I only have 8 items listed. TRUST ME - I have literally dozens of clothing items I need to get rid of - I'm working on listing more daily, so keep checking back. Also, if you live in the Greater Atlanta area, and are interested in an item - please email me a reasonable offer and we can work out a local pickup to avoid shipping costs - some neutral area convenient to both of us (I live Downtown, so everything is relatively close to me.). Thanks so much for looking, and refer your friends....

ps: I have GOT to start cleaning my closet more often...lol.

Aight, I know I haven't talked much about my lovelife (or lack therof) lately. Frankly, there hasn't been much to talk about. When my gallbladder fled, it took my libido with it...

However, the mojo reappeared before the libido reappeared. So, the brothers have been hollerin', and sans libido, I've been able to look at some of them objectively, assess where they're at & determine whether they were worth my time, without lust coloring my perspective. I've got two words for them:

MAN. UP.

I suspect the problem is this whole over-hyped, over-rated "Metrosexual" BS, but frankly - bruh - it's over. Yes, you should keep your hair cut, nails clean, and give a dayum about how you dress. But quite honestly, the trend was really a fad, and if you can, you should retire the following:
~ Fruit-loop Colored Striped shirts: monotone tie on shirt is WAY sexier, and only lean dudes really pulled this jawn off anyway. And stripes + satin = awning/upholstery
~ Overdone Accessories: Vest + Tie/Ascot + Pocket Square + Argyle Socks = Too FRIGGIN Much
~ SuperTailored Haircuts & Mustaches: Groomed is one thing...That miniature razor sharp line above your mouth you call a mustache is just irritating. AND your razor stubble itches.
~ Texturizers: despite my nappy state, and any anti-perm leanings, even when I was permed...any dude that spends more time in the hair salon than I do IS JUST WRONG
~ Fragrance: smelling clean + fresh = good. Smelling vanila with hints of amber and acacia = over the top.

Ok, I can't speak for ALL women, but I personally want a manly Man. Man's man. Marlboro Man. Someone who can rope fillies and bust broncos. Ok, at least KNOWS how to change my tires & oil (or has someone who can on speed dial). Big, thick Tom Selleck Mustaches. Suits are wonderful, but with minimal accessories (tie, pocket square). Monotone ties & shirts are still gangsta. And I'm pretty sure Old Spice is gonna make a comeback - I SWEAR!

Aesthetics aside, I know we asked for sensitive dudes. Sensitivity is a wonderful, nurturing thing, allowing you to snuggle, handle your business, and understand the other ½ of the world. Fine. GREAT.

OVERSENSITIVITY is a whole OTHER animal. Y'all don't find that attractive about women, hell. Why do guys think we'd find it attractive in men?

< singing Amerie > You's a grown a$$ man, dawg - you can't even stand on your own two feet...You need to change your tone, and get your swagger goin', you gotta hold your own...

Want an example? Keep reading...

Yes, I'm on a list binge this week.

The online dating jawn...I gotta admit, I have some real pet peeves. Here are a few:

ways to make sure you can't get at me...
• misspell. even simple words. add a few grammatical errors and I'm sure to pass
• take your shirt off. 'specially if you have a chicken chest, or man breasts.
• proposition me with some sexual reference
• better yet, invite me to join you and your girlfriend/wife
• write your own poetry or pornoetry. talk about how talented you are, and then make sure you use the words "conscious, Queen, moon, sun, stars, and pu$$y" all in the same poem...oh, don't let me forget...
• ...refer to me as a Queen - period. that's original
• tell me how funky my attitude is from my pics/email/profile/website. wow, you're astute - you figured that all out by yourself? you ain't even need to actually meet me to figure that one, eh?
• be shallow...be very, very shallow...
• holla at me real strong, then be completely unable to carry on a conversation. be unfunny, un-engaging, and generally uninteresting. then ask me what's wrong.
• take a pic in a red suit, with a red shirt, tie, hat, shoes, socks, and probably red drawz. or shop at any store that offers package deals (buy a suit, and we'll throw in some gators for free). ok, so yes, I have a little shallow in me.
• wear dress shoes sans socks. that's attractive
• take a picture with your overpriced luxury vehicle, SUV or your motorcycle. or better yet, take the pic of just the vehicle, and leave yourself out of it
• send me a pic of you & your crew, and then don't identify which one you are. or the one you cut/tried to cut your ex out of. best of all, don't send me a pic
• even better - Take a pic wearing promotional items from your favorite porno magazine/site, you know the stuff you get free for having a lifetime subscription or buying X number of videos? that gets me really HOTT!!!
• or better yet, don't have a pic at all. not online, not offline. despite conventional thinking, I understand that everyone has a preferred aesthetic, and that their personality doesn't supersede their appearance. in other words, I understand everyone has likes - and that's equally important as what's inside. I also have likes, and if you want me to respond, er - I need to see you.
• be caucasian. I like BROTHAS, dammit!!!!!
• be/look to be over 50, or under 30. I'm 38. At times I may not even look 30...keep that in mind. <<edited to add:: I had to lower that number, because y'all ain't getting it. It ain't that I like younger men. It's that I like attractive, vibrant, energetic men. Some of y'all are in some serious denial about the age thing, for real...
• talk about yourself incessantly without ever asking me about me. and don't let me get a word in edgewise. yeah, that's a turn-on
• if the best quality that you have to offer is the fact that you're not a Loser (for those of you who are not sure, this means that in your ad you state that you're "single, never married, no kids, drug & drama-free") and that's ALL you have to offer, then you probably are a Loser. Go, work on your personality, live a little, determine what your Qualities are (intelligence, sincerity, compassion, wit, etc.) and get back to me when you have a list. No, seriously. No really, I'm serious.
• state that i should be grateful for the pleasure of your company, cause you don't usually date big girls - but you like me. yeeaahhh - ok.

Disclaimer:: what's posted in this blog is the semi-sarcastic comments of a woman we're not sure is completely sane, or serious. Break or follow the above rules with caution...

Oh yes, I will cut you - don't get that twisted.

So I'm talking to this guy I met, about what I do for a living, and my background...college degree, grad student...blah...blah...and he goes:
I see you're booksmart...but you need someone to school you on that street knowledge...

Why he wanna go and say that? Folks get this twisted all the time about geeky people - like we don't still have to live dual lives.

My thoughts on this are...
...I'm still black, living in America, so it should be a given that I have at least some awareness of street knowledge
...My career, while important, doesn't define who I am. I have a life outside of work...
...Just because I can code switch, and am bilingual (fluent in the King's AND Ebonics) doesn't mean I grew up in the 'Burbs...
...ok, so I grew up near the 'Burbs...doesn't mean I didn't get my street education...
...just because I'm semi-calm, and appear even-tempered doesn't mean I don't get pissed off...just means that I know how to handle my temper, but I can (and would, given the right circumstances) cut you...

I had planned on ranting about some things going on in the news, related to this underlying Class war that the country seems to be fighting, and how we're bombarded unknowingly with references that IMHO scream Class-ism. But this got up in my face first.

See, I've been looking at the Class war from one-side: the Haves, who seem to eternally dwell in pointing out their superiority. But this feels like a push-back from the seemingly Have-Nots. Like, I know you can't relate to my existence, because you've tackled the hump & gotten over, so I know you don't know anything about my reality.

So let me back up a bit. I'm a new-school geek. I came to the geeky jawn really late in the game, like '97-99. Way after most folks had at least learned to piss away their work hours in chat. This was after upmteen years in various fields, after I hit a coupla glass ceilings hard enough to crack my skull, and way after I got my street education. I saw folks in IT were chillin, makin enough money to keep themselves plied with cold Pizza and Pop-tarts, and not stressin' over much to get it.

And let's talk about that too. Yes, I know - when people think about computer geeks, an image comes to mind: pasty-white skin, marginal social skills from too many hours spent playing online games, midsection spread from sitting too much, and the resentment they have for their IT support person who tends to get really tired of resetting passwords. REALLY tired. But I digress...

Frankly, I think my geeky friends (wait, if you're reading this, it probably includes you) make geeks look good. Stylish as hell, up on the latest music, fashion, design trends, current events, sports, vacation hotspots, politics, etc. Oh and social? Some of them stay their hot a$$es in the club/at parties. Shyt, they really don't need me to write a press release, so I ain't even gonna bother.

And not for anything, I'm a psuedo-geek: I've had many a "real" geek pull my Ho-card: Oh my God, I know you are not still using Internet Explorer?!! Microsoft products have so many security holes in them, you need to get _______ (Firefox) immediately, and stop using IE, and while you're at it, you're probably going to want to upgrade your firewall...... I'm rarely up on the latest technology, and frankly avoid my desktop when I'm not at work. I know...my psuedo-geekiness is the bane of my geek-existence...

So yeah, I got like 1210 on my SATs (I was high as a kite at the time...shhhhh...) and my IQ is a lil extra. Yeah, I rode the short bus as a child - bussed to my "gifted" program. And yeah, I've never really had my "street credibility" tested, for example, by say being in a fight with a woman. But yeah, I've had a coupla fights with men, and won a coupla times. I've been in jail, had some dealings with street pharmaceuticals (hope that statute of limitations has passed), been homeless, broke, lived in the PJ's, alla that...

...but mostly, I keep thinking that folks are way beyond these non-PC stereotypical definitions of ________-existence (you fill in that blank, Black, urban, street, etc). Quite honestly, I feel a lil silly in trying to address this topic. On the real, do I care if Marky Mark pulled Eminem and Matt Damon's ho-card? Hell no, and I don't really care if you try to pull mine.

As long as you know if you do, I will cut you....

p.s. sometimes these geeky-a$$ IT folks get on my dayum nerves too. shh...don't tell nobody...

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. Finals are OVER! Thinking of doing a themed arby to celebrate. Theme: songs with the word "over" in the title. Any suggestions?


2. Drink myself into a Skyy Blue induced stupor. Well, really - it only takes one...


3. Tried to become a redhead, again. More burgundy, I became a curly head, not really a red head. Meanwhile, I don't need no steenkin "curly pudding" mahne...


4. Gave Hammy a fresh haircut.


5. Read Nappily Ever After. I'm left wondering if Halle can pull off Venus & pull off nappy.


6. My beautiful kids take me to breafast for mom's day


7. Caramel Banana Pancakes + Bacon = some new strain of the "Itis" unknown to humankind...on the real though, Fave - thanks for the intro to Bluebird, no doubt.


8. We try to bum rush Ikea. Hey, I CAN moonlight, can't I? I will work for furniture!


9. Walk off the new Itis strain - at Sweet Auburn Festival(post-shooting).


10. All the beautiful brown people - this is why I love Atlanta.


11. African drummers, aspiring hip-hop stars, and r&b singers. Not to mention all the sausage you can pay to eat. But still - they barely compete with the number of vendors selling fake Louis Vuitton & Blinde sunglasses.


12. Hammy passes out literally in his potato salad, while eating his barely touched dinner. That's that new Itis shawty - he ain't even hardly eat anything else today...

ETA:: *APPLAUSE* to all the "Curve Salon customers" who keep perusing my site, and adding their testimonials for Curve Salon's services and products - congratulations. I'm so glad that your experience at Curve was pleasant, and that you're completely satisfied with their products. Good for you. However, as your thinly veiled endorsements have proven your inability to read, let me clarify something. I am not, and probably (considering how asinine these comments keep getting) will never be a Curve customer. Your "testimonials" (which I believe are just Curve's owners attempts to drive more business to their site) ring false, and since I clearly stated in the original post - this was an attempt tp recreate Curly Pudding, not use of the actual product. Having read all the comments posted here, I'm convinced - overspending on Salon service & products tends to make women functionally illiterate and obsessed with said product & services. Now...back to the original post...

ok, so I kept hearing about this gel that "brings out the curl pattern in natural hair". Saw a blurb about this in Essence, and heard about it on NP. Now, I love my napps, but I was looking for a wash & go style, that would mimic the braidouts I like - without having to braid every couple of days. So I figured this was worth a shot.

However, I am a skeptic. $28 buck is a lot for some gel, without knowing whether it was worth it. I also had thoughts of Rio perms and no-damage flat-irons in mind. So I was surfing Nappturality (NP) and came across this recipe:

curl activator + aloe vera gel + essential oil = faux curly pudding.

Still skeptical, I waited until someone who'd tried it really broke that formula down.

holding gel + moisture + shine = voila!

Since that made sense, and the ingredients were non-damaging, easy to find and cheap, I figured it was worth a shot. So, I gathered all the stuff, and since my hair was already stretched from some week old flat-twists, I wet my hair and applied the faux pudding according to the kinks to curls instructions.

so - pics of the results are on flickr - click the pic above to access them. Meanwhile, I was ok with the results. It was a lil greasy for my tastes, and I think that the resultant "curl pattern" was due more to my week-old twists, than the pudding.

moral: try before you buy - I'm glad I did. And learn to love the naps, so you don't give away your $$$ for naught. kinks to curls indeed...lol.

I think I've been subconcsiously inspired by Xquizzyt and BrownShuga's
explorations on race, and my lurking recently on NP. This is my love letter, and my heartfelt promotion of my nappiness.

When I became nappy my mind became free. And this allowed me to question the world, and what was important, and what was definitely not. Like whether it really matters if my edges are straight every day, including the week of touchups. And whether I really cared what Bronner Brother Show extras confrontationally spit in my face about my hair. And whether it was more important to me to have hair, or to have straight hair. Or to have Pantene commercial hair, that you can easily run your fingers through. And whether I wanted a man to want me because I (meaning: my hair, my a$$, my clothes, my shoes, my nails, my jewelry...) was cute, or because I had my mind right. Finances right. House in order.

When I embraced being nappy, I embraced the beautiful blackness in me. The chocolately-ness of my skin, every hyper-pigmentation mark on my forehead, fullness of my lip and thigh, every curve on my body. I accepted all the beauty in my blackness, that which was obvious, and even that which only I could see.

And I began to see that beauty in every black-brown person I came across. Cafe au lait with freckles, dark sepia tones, caramel, pecan and every flavor of black-brown in between that I came across. Curly haired, wavy haired, nappy haired, and even straight haired - knowing it was not for me, I could still admire this on others (even if I prefer to see hair in chunks, instead of sheets). I still catch myself sometimes, staring at some person that may/may not know how really perfect they are, in and of themselves. Without manipulation, without ornamentation. Just them - raw, naked and appealing. The G'd in them shining through.

It was like, when I finally came to the realization that the image of beauty that I'd been raised with, was forced upon me by someone/something that hated me centuries ago, and perpetuated for the sake of promoting capitalism in the form of the beauty/hair industry, someone lifted off my blinders and I could finally really see.

Sometimes, I imagine that my coming to terms with my natural hair was like a blind person seeing a flower for the first time. The flower was always there, and you have a sense of it - you can smell it, touch it and taste it. But without really seeing it, it's just not the same flower. Imagine never seeing a flower, then regaining your site and walking into a flower garden. That’s me loving my hair and myself, all over again.

For those considering becoming natural, becoming nappy...you may be wondering what you have to do/be in order to make the transition. You're probably thinking that it's hard work, that it's a long process, and that there's a lot of effort required on your part. Yes, there is. And the most challenging and rewarding effort you're going to put forth is to remove the lye from your mind. To do this, you need to be bold, feminine, ornate, flexible, sublime, confident, strong, clever, subtle, intelligent, obvious, sensual, delicate, resilient, agile...but most of all you need to be determined. Determined to love your napps despite what the world may say/think/do about your hair, because in the end it's only you that really matters, and only your self-image that really counts. It's only you that will keep you nappy, and only you that will love your napps, ultimately. Anything above that..well, that's just a bonus.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. final exams & papers commits me to the crib for the weekend.


2. invite hammy's cousins over to keep him company


3. Cranium Cadoo for Kids is an Excellent non-parental involvement child occupier


4. meanwhile, cured my blogstipation with: a radio blog, some poetry moved from the arcives, and thoughts of...


5. Peep-Toe Pumps! yes, shoes are my muse


6. learned more about Whole Foods than I ever wanted to know.


7. meanwhile hammy & the cousins start to wilt...


8. so I take us all for air, water, sun and ice cream.


9. version 2 of the curly pudding experiment is: BAA! Yeah!


10. subsequently feeling rebellious, I buy a circle skirt and some big hoops to challenge (again) my dress code at work.


11. I am momentarily distracted by possibly the WORST rapper turned actor piece of crap movie I think I've ever watched. Flipmode Squad made a movie? Why?! Except for Busta, they can barely get records right these days...


12. nose back to grindstone. As much effort as these exec summaries take, I really should be getting some $$$ for this...