October 2005 Archives

Ok, so I'm getting older, which means I've heard most jokes before. It takes something really sublimely funny, or over the top pratfall-ish to get a barrel of laughs outta me. Think Dave Chappelle/Jack Black or Dennis Miller/Dennis Leary: two polar ends of the comedic spectrum...or maybe they're not that far apart, hm?

In any event, my raging insomnia and penchant to start my homework after Hammy goes to sleep, keeps me up late watching Jon Stewart's The Daily Show. This, my friends, is officially my primary new source. I watch the local news afterward. IMHO, the Daily Show is more objective than the local newscast, which is very scary. And hilarious. So, having been a fan of the show for a while, imagine my absolute glee when they announced that Stephen Colbert was getting his own show!

Now for those of you unfamiliar with The Colbert Report, a primer (from the bio): His personality, insight and overall rightness could only lead to The Colbert Report, a half-hour nightly platform for him to give his take on the issues of the day, and, more importantly, to tell you why everyone else's take is just plain wrong.

My own take: I've never seen a comedian give a more deadpan, sarcastic and insanely skewed (right? wrong? your call?) view of the news in my life. Which is what makes the show and Colbert so dayum indulgently funny. This is the kind of "reporter" that would suggest during discussion of the John Roberts Supreme Court nomination, that he "prefers a half-windsor knot" and "parts his hair on the right"...and that "Robert Bork's nomination was clearly sunk by his wearing cornrows to the confirmation hearings", and referring later to Judge Clarence Thomas as the "pube-guy". The really strange part is that Colbert, Stewart and the other "actors" and "comedians" on these pundit shows ask tougher questions of our political systems and it's players, than the real "anchors" , "pundits" and "newscasters" do.

But better than that, The Colbert Show features: gravitas - High seriousness (as in a person's bearing or in the treatment of a subject). Think: Barbara Walters or Peter Jennings. Yanno how some newscasters seem to be grimacing when they attempt to smile? Yeah...that's gravitas. So what's better than straight-up Colbert-style gravitas, you ask?

Stone Phillips and Stephen Colbert - the gravitas-off!

Stone Phillips is an anchor on NBC's Dateline, amongst other things, and the reigning
King of Gravitas, and a guest on one of Colbert's premier week shows. When you get the two of them together for a face off, you get:

Stone Phillips, in the most serious possible voice & facial expression: If you've ever sat naked, on a hotel bedspread, we've got a chilling report for you.

Stephen Colbert, trumping Stone's gravitas card: Raheed and Emcee Fresh Jams were dropping mad beats at the house party, when tragedy struck!

Stone Phillips, stepping up the Gravitas game: What a to-do to die today at a minute or two to two,
A thing distinctly hard to say but harder still to do.
For they'll beat a tattoo at a quarter to two:
A rat-ta tat-tat ta tat-tat ta to-to.
And the dragon will come when he hears the drum
At a minute or two to two today, at a minute or two to two.

Nuff-said. You get the idea. Go watch The Colbert Report (click this link to get a taste)!

Note:: this is the Windows Media Player version of the Gravitas Off! Unfortunately, you will need v9 of WMP to play this.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. grad school:: skipped it. Yeah, I said I skipped it. Don't ask...


2. theAlternative:: I self-beautificated instead. Trust me, I sorely needed it.


3. volunteering:: attended Laffapallooza, the Teens of Comedy show. My mentee had a ball, particularly when the tag team of Brandon T. Jackson and Lil JJ graced the stage. I promise that, unlike some parents & my mentee, I only drooled over Jamie Foxx, and not those young men. I swear. Ok, you're just gonna have to trust me...


4. partyNumberOne:: my coworker's housewarming, and it was tight. Her house is really nice, and I'm jealous of her deck! I want a deck too... (can't have it, too much $ for my blood...)


5. partyNumberTwo:: also over a coworker's spot. Who also has an off-da-dayum-chain house. Ok, saga - you cannot be jealous...you cannot be envious...even if you wanted the basement too....


6. in da clubII:: I don't know why I entertained going back to the Hoodrat-Drop club, but it was as anti-climactic and anti-fun as it could've possibly been. Which was only worsened by the time change - extended anti-climactic anti-fun-ness. Yes, that is now officially a word. Were it not for the cover charge, I would've gone elsewhere.


7. theComeUp:: within 15 minutes of walking in da club, theQueen has 3 phone numbers. Me? I can't buy a number, m'kay? Not ONE - in a HOODRAT club. I am so Joan for that...just as classist, egregious and single as I dayum WANT to be!


8. theConsensus: I'm a b*&%$. More specifically, I've completely lost my ability to not only a) flirt, but also b) the sense to know when someone's flirting with me as well as c) ability to carry on a benign/flippy conversation with a person of the opposite sex and d) smile. Sadat and theQueen agree: I need to relearn how to put out the honey, and hide the vinegar.


9. theTuneUp - partIII:: he was on point, as usual. Blah...blah...blah.


10. theTuneUp - the afterglow:: I've got to be honest with myself, and subsequently y'all. I wasn't feeling this AT ALL. And frankly, I realize (once again) that this really isn't what I want. But how do I tell the Maintenance Dude that? I'm not even sure he knows he's the maintenance dude!


11. theSpermDonor - part II:: I looked a hot tired mess when I went to pick Hammy up afterward. But theSpermDonor is still living out his Disappearing Act fantasy. Do I need a backrub? Naw shawty, I'm good. Do I need something to eat? Naw shawty...I'll grab something on the way home. Do I want to lay in the bed with you? Oh dayum...I think I just threw up a lil in my mouth. Oh yeah - I am a b*&%$, arent' I?


12. theTrickReallyWasOnMe:: Given all of the deep-fried badness which was my weekend, I would've rather stayed home to eat caramel popcorn and watch Shrek II & Monsters, Inc with Hammy. Which is exactly what I plan on doing tonite...in the dark, avec notre propre cachette personnelle de sucrerie (with our own personal stash of candy). TrickorTreaters beware!

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. grad school:: I got a big fat C in one of my classes. I'm rethinking the whole grad school plan, and learning - it's all about the grad school journey, not just racing to the finish line. So I dropped two classes - I am officially no longer nuking that candle.


2. theTuneUp - part I:: I pay a LOT of rent, so in my complex I act like it's my house. I keep forgetting that you can't just park your car and not move it for long time periods (oh, about 18 months say?). So, I spend a good part of Saturday morning tuning up my backup car (Nissan Altima) so that my complex won't tow it. Oh yeah, a sista can do a lil maintenance work her dayum self, ok?


3. volunteering:: hung out with my mentee, and really listened. I'm far from perfect, or a shrink, but I understand that the problems with teenagers definitely start at home. Throwing up your hands, and saying "I can't do anything with this child" is not even an alternative.


4. theDate:: Got hit up out of the blue by someone I met a while ago, so we made plans to do dinner & dancing. We confirm the time, and he suggests he'll call me when he's on his way out the door...


5. theStandUp:: ...I'm still waiting for that call (yeah, right).


6. in da club:: click here for details.


7. theTuneUp - part II:: see, here's where I would normally go into gory details about what that specifically means, but a lady never tells. Suffice it to say that my little issue with s-e-x? No longer an issue. Not at ALL.


8. theRealEstateAgent:: I can't believe I've never introduced you to my agent! Her name is Sherri Brown, and she is absolutely too-friggin fabulous! Ok, in all seriousness and all pretense aside, I really do love this woman. I have (at times) been a complete baby about this process, not knowing a dayum thing, and she has really taught me a great deal about homebuying. I've also been a completely stubborn bitch, and she has not only traipsed around ½ of metro Atlanta with me, but also gently suggested "Ok, Miss Saga, this is your first house - you cannot have everything you want..." Sherri also allowed me to drag her (against her husband's protests) out in the snow & ice, to sign my contract - guaranteeing me not only a fat buyer bonus, but got an additional extra for me off the house's price, for writing the first contract in the subdivision, and doing it in the inclement weather. If that ain't the ISH, I don't know what is, ok? Oh yeah, and if you are in the market & are looking for an agent - want to contact her...holla at me via IM or email so you can tell her I sent you! 'Precianate ya!


9. theChiChi-Party:: so, Sherri's an agent for the Robinson Realty Group, and she invited me to her company's Client Appreciation party at the Villa Christina. If you get a chance to visit, please go - the restaurant is really beautiful & scenic. Good music, good food, and...


10. theChocolateThunderCloud:: OMG - there were so many well-dressed, well-spoken, attractive GROWN black men in attendance. It was literally like walking into the black male version of the Godiva store. Hm...do I want the strawberrry dipped in dark chocolate, or the fudge caramel drizzled with hazelnuts? How about the almond truffle, with the milk chocolate crunch coating? The dreadlocked brother with the steel gray suit, pale lavender tie, and the subtle pinstripe? Copper suede jacket, with the ceasar haircut, neatly trimmed beard, and those broken-in jeans that are tight in just-the-right places? Lawd, help me it's raining good-looking, single, grown black men - so many choices, so little time...


11. theSpermDonor:: I looked really cute heading to that party. I looked even cuter stopping by theSpermDonor's spot to pick Hammy up afterward. But naw shawty - we (theSpermDonor & I) cannot have that Wesley Snipes - Sanaa Lathan conversation - ever. We talk for a long time, and while I understand why he still wants to get at me (I am that fly), I don't think he'll ever give up hope.

Another tentative date, another incident of being stood up. And, may I add - I looked way too cute to sit home. Instead of moping, I decide to go to the club, and headed to a local "Ole Skool" watering whole, to avoid hanging out with theChaos' co-horts (gen Z'ers? dang, do they even have a classification yet?). Either way, I ain't NEVA partying with my daughter, ok? Meanwhile, I head to the club solo. Clubs are an endess source of amusement for me, because of the characters:

the club "pimp"
I'm sitting at my bar, and over saunters "Larry". And yes, He's a Cancer. And yes, his lines are that tired. However, he was 6'4", decently dressed, and over 30...so I was willing to entertain the tired lines. Well, at least until another woman dressed in head-to-toe camouflage came and sat next to Larry on his other side...

Larry: You're so young...I shouldn't even be talking to you.
me: Why is that?
Larry: Shoot girl, I'm about to get my AARP card.
me: laughs...

....not even 3 minutes later, I hear
Larry: You're probably way too young for me...
Camouflage Girl: Oh really? How old are you?
Larry: Shoot girl, I'm about to get my AARP card.
me(thinking): da hell? did he just recycle his game while I'm still in earshot?

Aside: the bartender was listening, and busted out laughing when I gave Larry the Scooby-Doo-"ruh-roh"-face. She told me later that all his lines are standard, and she quoted several, including: "I've traveled the world, because I used to play pro-ball, and I'm also former military", "I know the owner, we used to be business partners in _____ venture together" and "It usually takes me about 2 drinks to oil the knees up properly to dance - basketball injuries. So far I've had 3, so I think I'm good...".

Another aside: yes, I was offended that he was spitting that same tired game at a girl dressed completely in camouflage. I mean dayum, the outfit was very 1997, and it wouldn't have been all that cute back then, ok?

the nasty man
Am I the only one that gets all these old dudes with fetishes? This guy asks me to dance, and then starts telling me how surprised he is that I'm here alone. "Are you single" - yes. "Do you have a man" - no. "That is so surprising because you seem like a good woman" - yea, right. I've heard these lines so many times, that it sounds like that Charlie Brown's teacher mess: wa wa-wa wa-wa...wa, wa, wa wah. But then..

nastyman: You are a whole lotta woman. I love the way you look...I could really do some things with you.
me(feigning naivéte, because I think I know where he's headed): what do you mean?
nastyman: you have some really thick hair.
me: thanks
nastyman: are you hairy like that all over? I mean, I don't see any hair on your arms and legs...but I would like to find out for myself.
me: da hell? oh see - you need to go on somewhere with that....

Ok, c'mon now...a fetish for pubes? If that isn't the friggin' nastiest...that's worse than feet...ugh!

the "one-move" man
I am so mean for this one, but y'all know what I'm talking about. Dude with that one dance move, and he's working out all-night-long, to whichever song comes on. Classic R& B = one move. Uptempo R& B = same move. House song = same move. Reggae song = same move. Hip hop song = same move. Slow song = same move. Line Dance song (electric slide, cha-cha slide, etc) = same move. If they played an arena rock song, I believe dude would have used the same move.

Now, if the move was the two-step, it wouldn't be so noticeable. I mean, everyone kind of expects older heads to two-step, yanno? But the move was so extraordinary. It was a cross between the "Carlton dance" from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and the "Jerk" from the Steve Martin movie of the same name. The fact that this kid did it for about 4 hours straight was pretty amazing, considering how painful it was to watch. My neck still hurts from watching him.

the hoodrat drop
I don't know which of my elitist guy friends said this one, but here's the direct quote: "here's how you can tell a real hoodrat/ghetto girl - if they hear a song with that "drop" in it...yanno that Kilo Ali 'Nasty Dancer' drop? and no matter where they are, they start popping that thang? yeah - she's a hoodrat". Now, granted - we are in a club, so popping that thang is kinda expected. What I don't expect, is for them to do that a) while wearing a dress, b) while they are pregnant, c) with one hand on a building joist (sweetie, that is not a stripper pole, ok) or d) if they are over 30, 35, 40...aw hell, I ain't raising that age limit no dayum more! and let's not even talk about e) all of the above...

aside:: that line above is a QUOTE. I did not say that...I'm just co-signing it. Direct your hate mail elsewhere...lol.

the meeting in the ladies room
This one is a public service to the brothas. If you ever want to know the level of women that you're really dealing with in da club, peek into the ladies room. Seriously. I've been in too many clubs to name, but I can tell you - the ladies room is the nastiest place on earth, bar none. And, in some of the well-known popular clubs that are known to pack in some of the finest women in Atlanta? Chile - them chicks will take a dump in the sink, ok? At the end of the night, the ladies bathroom will end up looking like the Wild Boyz did a tampon commmercial. And to think...you probably took one of them drunk, nasty-a$$ hooches home afterward...lol.

aside: ladies, if you gave the ladies room attendant a $20 for a slice of gum - you didn't pay her enough, ok? Ain't no way I could do what she does with the skanches she does it for. And them skanches don't tip. dayum.

Last one...

the club husband
You know this one fa sho. He bought you a drink, and you're tied for life - or at least the rest of the night. This kid follows you everywhere - bathroom, dance floor, outside, back inside...all in the hopes that you will take him home. I guess. Frankly, after I get the drink, I will ask for his digits and tell him I'll talk to him soon. If he isn't out of the area soon, I will confirm to him that I will lose his number if I don't get some air. This particular night, he beat it, but then ran out after me as I was getting in my car. And then couldn't get back in the club (no Ins and Outs). Poor thing...

You know you are sorely lacking in human affection when you're jealous of TV characters. I was watching Bernie Mac yesterday, and in one scene, Bernie's trying to comfort his niece Vanessa about being too hard on her, and he places his hand on her shoulder briefly. It was a really tender gesture. The sad part is, I stopped what I was doing, and tried to remember when anyone did that to me...

...what's even worse that more than 24 hours later, I'm still trying to remember.

..I have got to do something about that...

ETA:: just as I'm lamenting my lack of affection, I hear on TV about Cuddle Parties. Why does this make me feel like more of a loser? UGH

Have you ever had a really strong emotional reaction, only to later check yourself and say "yanno, it really ain't that serious..."?

it ain't my fault:: I'm listening to the radio this morning, and Frank Ski's regurgitating that old Rev. Willie Wilson drama. You remember, the whole "the whole gay 'problem' is black women's fault.." thang I ranted about a while back? Yeah, with the Million More Movement this past weekend, and Keith Boykin being prevented from speaking there, Frank wanted to rehash Rev. Wilson's comments. Click the links if you want to see how that whole thing started.

the heat:: Weeelll...I felt the ire rising up in me again, and dialed the station's number several times trying to get on. I really wanted to speak my piece about Rev. Wilson's overarching indictment of the black community for its "immoral" behavior, and his blaming lesbianism on black women's independence. As fate would have it, not only couldn't I get through, but then the folks at the station entered tangent-land. They started talking about independent women, and someone at the station chimed in with the "yeah, I've seen those sistas in the club, you know the type - they look really unapproachable. I just leave them alone..."

Yes, my internal temperature went from about 98° to 106°. And that's when the head check started. Why would I get incensed about this person's comments? Or Rev. Wilson's comments for that matter...

check 1:: ...so it must've hit a nerve. I mean, I've already ranted about this before, so what gives? My homeboys have told me that amongst other things, I look "mean" or "married" or "content " or "aloof" or "like I already have somebody" when I go out, which is supposed to explain why I don't get hit on anymore. (Well, that and this extra XX lbs I'm carrying, but this is the Deep South, and big girls get love down here, so antywho...) My homegirls do say I'm completely clueless when it comes to flirting, and I'll admit my skills may be a lil rusty (read: so rusty they've completely disintegrated..lol). But why do we have to be referred to as "those sistas", as if we have a third eye, or come carrying Louis Vuitton steamer trunks or something?

check 2:: So, then my coworker and I head to Walmart, and she's men-shopping on my behalf, while I pick out fruit:
coworker: "what about him over there - he looks professional...
me: "oh no! receding hairline - uhn-uhn, ain't feeling that.
coworker: "ok, what about the guy over in the bank? he's got on a nice blue suit.."
me: "I didn't see him really, but he looks short. next!"
coworker: "ok, what about this guy over here..."
me: "oh HELL naw - he's gay"
coworker: "he is NOT - just because he's dressed nice does NOT equal gay..."
me: "your gaydar is broke. He ain't even interested in me..."
coworker: "ok, that's it - I am SO done fooling with you"

check 3:: I'm trying y'all, I really am. I love men. Love them. But I don't know if it's that I've been single since, I dunno - forever! Charge this to my head, and not my heart, but it really seems to me that men in my age range aren't doing much for me. Between the booty do's, the marginal employment, the eternal playas & brothas that think monogamy is a non-sexually transmitted disease; after getting past the weak 1980's game (it is 2005), the dress socks with shorts & sandals, any potential ex-wife or baby-mama drama and ensuring that they haven't been, or aren't currently fleeing from some institution (penal, marriage, mental or other...); as a single woman over 35 (heck pushing 40), I'm left with....____________?

voice of smeagol: "I don't want to say the word....don't make me say it. It burns, my precious....it buuuurrrnnnnsss.....

I'm left with brothers that are sorry!

the boiling point:: I refuse to lower my standards any more than I already have. Hell, that's the most dangerous problem in the black community today, is that we've all lowered our standards: for ourselves, our relationships, our career expectations, our love interests, our lives. Yes, I am realistically picky. I know that Chi McBride already has a wife, and Boris Kudjoe isn't going to holler at me. But I'll be damned if I settle for some brotha who is married, broke, homeless or whose sexuality is questionable, just because "somebody is better than nobody". F&*% that!

the real head check - the caveat:: Maintaining my standards doesn't mean I have to give every guy that I encounter the "gas face". Although I disagreed with most of Joy Jones' "Scaring our Men" article for the Washington Post, there may have been a grain (a solo one) of truth in it. On an individual level, I could smile more. I could value my femininity more, and share that with the world. I could take down the "game face" I use at work & school, and reveal more of the inner saga, instead of showing everyone I meet that hard shell. There's a huge difference between being vulnerable, and exposing your vulnerability. And I'm guessing that's what guys are talking about when they refer to "those" women.

but back to the Million More discussion...:: One of the invited guests on Frank's show brought up a really good point. The whole point of the original march was to empower men, to become stronger leaders in their homes & communities, and to allow them to atone for any perceived "trespasses" that they've engaged in in their role as men, fathers, husbands and community leaders. The guest's excellent question was, whether they've achieved any of those goals? On a personal note, I'm asking myself - what am I doing to "bridge" that gap between myself, and the brother's I love so much? As a strong, intellectual, independent black woman, what am I doing to ascend to my role as a woman, mother, wife and community leader. I won't co-sign anyone else's bullshyt, but I do have some internal checking to do.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. grad school:: fall '05 is ½ done, and so is my brain. I'm baked.


2. i guess 1 of 3 ain't bad.... Friday night finance final = a strong C with a B prayer. Saturday morning accounting final = a weak C, with a strong C prayer (80% of my grade). Information systems = A (that's a given, geeky as I am).


3. theHope:: that I don't get kicked out of grad school completely.


4. theReality:: I have a truly que sera attitude about this semester. Yes, I really bit off more than I should have chewed, and i underestimated how challenging my classes are. But...what's done is done. I've given too many tears to school as is. Mentally, I can only realize my mistakes, and keep it moving.


5. theFreakiness:: Ok, I'm interrupting this B12 to pause, and share something...freakishly coincidental, and real. At the exact moment I wrote the above line about realizing my mistakes and moving on - the GRA for my accounting class emails me a username & password for Part II of the class. Please note that if I HADN'T passed Part I, I'd be ineligible to take part II. That, kind reader, isn't just destiny, God's will or fate. That, my friends, is the power of sheer will, which is all in God's hands (or fate's, or destiny's), but nevertheless determined by man taking that mental step. In other words, if I hadn't mentally made that adjustment, and typed that line, and prepped myself for that eventuality, would that have happened? hm...


6. theDecompression:: I refuse to wallow in self pity. Too tired to sleep, I take the "pigs live here" sign off my sty (read:: apartment) and prepare for...


7. theChiChi:: which was cool, but not über chi-chi. The gallery show was at Gallery 253, and had some interesting pieces. Primarily photographs, works by Drexina Nelson and Derrick Blanks were particularly intriguing.


8. who, Moi (again)?:: don't forget I was on a mission! Malheureusement pour moi, the only brotha intriguing enough to get my attention spent most of the evening chatting with other men. Mia swore to me that didn't mean anything, but I wasn't willing to chance getting rejected. C'est la vie!


9. theGbutNotSoS:: with so many industry "playas" there, we dip - too much finger arching over mini-champagne glasses, and teeth (read: butt-cheek) clenching for me! We head out to Club 20 Grand East, to party with Si Man from 102.5...now, I love my people, BUT...


10. bootyDon't:: bootydo: when your stomach sticks out more than your booty do. I (sorta) have one, but I've got theTwinz, to compensate. Men my age? Have Twinz (wrong), a bootyDo (more wrong) and then somehow the a$$ starts to become almost concave. Given all this, the LAST thing you want to do is tuck your shirt in (extra wrongness!). I don't see anyone that can help me fulill the mission...


11. rectangularMiniskirt:: I am a BIG girl, y'all know this. BUT. Any above-the-knee skirt I pick up, will end up being wider than it is long, which again = extra wrongness! So, I knew it was going to be a given that I'd see it, but when I saw it with a pineapple weave and some go-go boots, I KNEW that S(exy) had left the ...


12. stepInTheNameOf - Diversity?:: the crowd ranged from 21 - 60, dressed from polo shirts and khakis, to the full 3-piece red plaid suit, with matching gators, and the Barsolino of course (his wife was in red, and just as sharp). White guys were stepping, and I even saw one guy determined to nail the cha-cha slide (read: sans rhythm). The DJ played "Follow Me", while me & some stranger gigged (for about an hour or so - I lost track of time completely). My knees are still killing me.

So, no sex...but I had fun. And I'm glad. On both counts.

completely absurd aside:: that pic I posted above is the first actual image of the "bootydo" phenomenon posted on the internet. I'm glad I have contributed something of real value to the world wide web...lol.

If someone had looked at where I was 10 years ago, and told me exactly where I was now, I would have flat out told them "you are nucking futs - that will NEVER happen". I would've bet a whole shytload of cash that my life would've been headed in a different direction. Funny thing is, if I had made that bet then, I would've won.

Here's my gift to you, whoever you are: faithful reader, casual visitor, universe, God.

You (God willing) define who you are, and who you will become, with every minutiae of your being, your actions, your free will, and God's plan. Every step you take, of every day you live, you push yourself toward whatever it is you want to do/be. That's the gift. Some really wise person passed it on to me, and I didn't appreciate how huge it was when I received it. I'm not nearly as wise, but I appreciate it much more as I pass it on to you.

Seems really simple then, doesn't it? You can do whatever you want to do. You can be whomever you want to be. Just as long as you're willing to do what it takes to get to the end of that journey.

theInspiration:: I'm talking to Mia about going to an art show, and we're discussing appropriate boho-corp attire (the show is sponsored by Mercedes-Benz for heaven's sake). As I'm mentally scrolling thru my closet, with one eye on Fine Living's "Around the World in 80 Homes" trying to get ideas for theFrame - it hit me how far I've come in 10 years. Even 5 years. Holy Crap!

I've exceeded the plan I held for my life, the plan I'd had in mind for the longest period of my life. For years, I longed to poke my head above the poverty level, to just be able to pay all my bills, and not worry about utilities being shut off. Go to a store and buy clothes or shoes, and not have to stress about how I was going to feed my kids. To have a car. To have my own space that I didn't have to share. To be "edu-ma-cated". I...well I've gotten beyond all that. So much so, that I'm constantly setting new goals for myself that I'm striving for, before I even begin to appreciate the hurdle I just overcame.

My friend E just mentioned to me the other day, that I needed to mentally dwell in that space for a bit, so I can appreciate all I'm capable of. See, me & E go back to Atlanta Metro College, working at the DMV (yes, I was a disgruntled gov't employee) days. Answering-the-phone-for-Earthlink days. So he knows the saga before the blog, before the gig, before the degrees. E says even though I haven't changed much, I evolved enormously. Whateva that means...lol.

But I...I finally get it. When people say clichéd things like "you can be whateva you want to be", the most idealistic person will think "yeah, right". Again, God willing, I've been fortunate enough to find out for myself that it's true. It's as simple as setting a small goal, and then implementing a plan to reach it. Baby steps y'all for real. And please don't get it twisted...it's not as if I think I've hit the friggin Powerball, and landed in a mansion with a yacht. I'm just wishing that someone had told me this a long time ago, and wishing I'd taken it to heart, yanno?

So, Mia and I are going to hang out at the boho/chi-chi event, sip champage and laugh at the irony. We're both hoodrats still, not-so-deep down inside. We both know that the only thing that separates a hoodrat from the haute-couture is a plan. Don't ever dream small. Small dreams are shallow, and so easy to reach it makes big dreams seem unattainable. Dream big. Then, make the little dreams give your big dreams legs.

Ok, now that I have your attention...

Just kidding. Yes, I actually am gonna write about it...lol.

So, I haven't had not na'an nary a drop of booty in a loooooooooooooooong while. Long enough that I don't actually REMEMBER the last piece of booty I had. Let alone a drop of decent booty, which is a whole 'nother issue.

Disclaimer: I AM STRAIGHT. Have to just put that out there, since I'm referring to it as booty instead of d___. That word is just so crass, yanno? But antywho...

Despite the vow of celibacy in the 101 list, it's time. Let me tell you why.

A sista is STRESSED-out. Stressed to the stressed power, ok? Here's the "normal" routine for the last XX months:
~ Commute of death: 90MPH on GA 400, and I am not the fastest driver on the road.
~ 9-10 hours of work, with lunches just long enough to heat up a Healthy Choice and take a conf. call while I eat.
~ Repeat commute of death.
~ Cook, feed Hammy, work on Hammy's homework. Yes, this is a multi-tasked, multi-faceted activity.
~ Blow the dust off a textbook, and try not to let the written Sominex get the best of me.
~ Help Hammy with a bath, and get him ready for bed.
~ Read more Sominex
~ Take an online quiz
~ Do homework
~ Pass out at the laptop
~ Then repeat the entire list....

Now don't get me wrong. Y'all been reading, there are occasional Grown & Sexy's, and the volunteer work, so I'm not a complete, anti-social hermit.

But.

I ain't had no booty in ages...and since I hung up on dating after theOofA incident, the prospect of holding on to my newly refound celibacy is quickly losing its lustre. Besides - I've had countless road rage incidents in the last week, my getting some booty is a public service. I've tried to find ways of channeling that sexual energy, but I can't even lie - I'm in need of some vertical, chocolate sweat. No amount of busy-ness is gonna overcome the need for some booty.

On the other hand, I happened across Michael Baisden's on-air radio discussion about HIV in the black community. Now, that's not my primary reason for the celibacy jawn (although it's a good one). Just listening to the calls, and callers describing the behaviors of some men, was a turn-off. I'm tempering my jadedness, and not harboring ill-will toward the brothers, but a sista can only tolerate so much wack shyt, before she's like "hey, just hand me that dildo over there, on your way out, k?"

< me to self:: > why are you putting all this out there? don't nobody care about yo' a$$'s inability to get a$$, ok?
< self to me:: > you already know the answer to that question...

So, my internal debate is this: Do I pick up some Elexa, hit the club, and keep it moving? Or continue to (unsuccessfully) channel my pent-up sexual energy? Call an ex (dayum, they're exes for a reason)? And how do you create passion, without intimacy? Y'all that isn't a rhetorical question - I really want to now how that one works?

Alright enough...I gotta find out where they sell those dayum Elexa condoms here locally. Meanwhile, your thoughts?

Antonio Melani's Simone Suede Boots

Ok, I can't even explain this except to those folks that share my shoe/boot fetish. I just want these. There is no other explanation for it.

I'll be attending the 2005 PhD Project's Annual Conference, November 16th - 18th in Chicago (well, actually Rosemont, IL). I'm only just now becoming familiar with the PhD Project, so if you want more information, you'll probably want to check out their site.

I've never been to Chi-town, and I've never been to this conference...actually, it's probably best that you just act like I'm brand spankin' new to this whole thing. And while I ain't exactly saying I'm going to do the PhD, this conference will actually answer a whole lot of questions for me.

I plan on working an angle to get my ticket extended a day or two, thru Sunday 10/20/05. If you're from Chi and you want to hang out, or if you're familiar with the PhD Project, or the Conference - holla!

Ahhh....I am so narcissistic, but whateva - here it is: the 101 list update

updated tasks::
#9 - practice punctuality for 30 days
#11 - foster & forge relationships with normal women: if you call Ms. QueenMia normal. I know her a$$, so I usually don't, lol. But with the G & S events, I'm appreciating my other colleagues more.
#14 - host a clothes swap: I actually ended up giving most of my new or gently used stuff to Katrina victims.
#15 - take my new, tagged clothes to the consignment shop: see above
#19 - workout some kind of visitation schedule with Hammy's sperm donor: this one surprised me, but he initiated it, and I am SO thankful
#36 - spend < 1 hr daily farting around on the web, outside of work & school related stuff: right now, I can't do much more than that if I wanted to
#45 - purge myself of my sugar & chocolate addictions: yep, I've beat this one, although I know it'll be an ongoing thing
#51 - raise my performance eval. score at the current gig by at least 10% w/in 1 year: mm-hm, and I had to fight real hard for this one
#97 - figure out a way to get my domain/blog to make money:: the blog ads made me feel whorish, but this site is pulling in more development business. Kewl.

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. grad school:: ...do I even have to mention again how much school is whooping my a$$ets? Friday nights AND Saturday mornings? Nah, I didn't think so...


2. what, me eat?!:: ran errands all Saturday afternoon - I don't need no steenkin' food...


3. theG&S:: a Grown & Sexy event was just what I needed, So I PLANNED on working some things out this weekend, er...alcoholicly, m'kay? So Favelife, a bunch of my coworkers and I headed to the Fox to see...


4. Madea Goes to Jail:: OFF. THE. DAYUM. CHAIN.


5. you are just 675 lbs of...:: veneral disease!!! Again, if you've never seen a Tyler Perry play, go get a ticket. Or buy a movie. My classist a$$ was SO missing out, I swear...


6. theBazzaar:: Back up a sec...we stopped by Bazzaar for a before-the-show aperitif. Try this: Key Lime Martini, made with Rasberry Stoli...oh my...I think that just hit my G-spot...


7. OSS:: After the show, we head to the Westin Hotel, for Old School Second Saturday. My thoughts: clubbin' in Atlanta ain't what it used to be, and it used to be a-ight, so that definitely ain't saying much at all...


8. who, Moi?:: I can't tell you specifically what occurred (that's a clear violation of the player's code). However, that may have been me walking around with several drinks in my hand, and that may have been me flailing wildly somewhere on the dance floor, and that may have been me sitting on the floor exhausted afterward. I can neither confirm nor deny either...


9. Herby the Rug Wearer:: stopped by City Cafe afterward for breakfast (pancakes to absorb the alkillhol). Been there? Can an Atlanta native PLEASE explain to me Jaba the Hut, and his horrible toupee?


10. too early:: 5 hours later, the phone blares. Fave: "You know we're supposed to be heading to breakfast at 11, right?" Ugh, is it Sunday already...ma head hurtz...


11. theBlogMeetUp:: noon @ Chequers, met SingingChick, JusWritinLife, EJ, Fave and BrownSugar for breakfast - how much fun was that? All cool peeps (the Atl fam knows that) and Singing was super-special, m'kay?


12. Chequers Breakfast Buffet:: OMG, I could list everything on it, but that would be the length of two posts. Go, and skip dinner the night before, you need that much room. I'm serious.

monday...back to the grind...and I've got so many posts backed up from last week's B12 and other issues...I'm seriously blogstipated y'all, I is so sowwy :(

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. hilarity:: while working late Friday night, a coworker passed the following on to me: Ramesh & Partiti on War of the Roses. I wish I could get WKTU_FM(NY) here in Atlanta, but in the meantime, there's podcasts. You MUST listen to this...lmao.


2. theCandle:: is not just burned at both ends. I nuked that biyotch repeatedly to the point that wax is permanently adhered to the side of my head.


3. culturalHighlight:: visited the Jim Alexander exhibit at the Hammond House Museum in the West End. It was cool, even managed to sing "Superfly" with one of the curators, and embarass my mentee thoroughly in the process. To the bride who got married there Saturday evening: Good luck, and your dress was absolutely gorgeous.


4. theSideProjects:: finished prototypes for the fake site (Class Project) and for another site I'm working on. You can see the fake site here. I need to keep the other one under my hat for a bit.


5. theDollarStretch:: it's amazing what you can do with some $ when an unexpected expense appears outta the blue. I can see through that dollar, it's so thin rightch about now...


6. theVolunteerJawn:: turned in quarterly report, and that went by really quick. It's been interesting. Not sure what if any impact I've made, but I'm beginning to understand the real impact that consolidated efforts (group collections of $, time & energy) make.


7. culturalHighlight2:: took theChaos to see "A History of Violence". I'm so cynical from watching so MANY movies, but this was actually entertaining as well as thought-provoking, which is rare for releases these days. <Semi-Spoiler: I also liked that they did not neatly tie up the loose ends of this movie.> That's all I'm giving away - go see it!


8. convo with theChaos:: "yeah mama, I know all about them XXXXXXX college girls, and it's just ridiculous - they watch videos, and guys treat them like ISH and they act like ISH, so I can't say that they don't deserve it..." Is that my child talking, or my mom? whoa, when did we switch places?


9. theReadingChallenge:: my mentee needs to read for pleasure. I need to read for pleasure. I challenged her to pick up a book that's a challenge to read, but one she'd enjoy - Stephen King's IT, which is one of my favorites. BUT it's 1100+ pages. So I challenged myself to pick up a book that's a challenge to read, but one I'd enjoy - Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, which is one of my professor's favorites. BUT it's 1100+ pages. I gave us both 6 months to finish them. Oy Vey!


10. theHouse:: has an electrical system...blah...blah...blah. Also, the nearby shopping center has moved from slab to Frame as well. Heavens, if only that famous shoe store would be open by the time I close...


11. thePackRat:: yeah, I am. But for once it paid off. Details are boring, suffice it to say that I may have to take a creditor to court, but I have the receipts that will make the creditor come up off some dough. And then I'll throw all that shyt out ;-)