Chill with the Resolutions, Bro

 

Today is December 31, 2011. The last day of the year. The day that most people reflect on the past year's events, triumphs, successes, losses, etc. The day that most people make a list of what to improve on or change in their life. And the dreadful day that people pull ideas out of their arse and make resolutions.

Well, not this chick. I think resolutions set you up for failure. Resolutions are usually too high of a goal(s) and are too much pressure. Think about it. The most common resolution is to eat healthier and lose weight. You start off the new year not eating fast food, cooking healthy meals and exercising. Then slowly but surely you start slacking off. A late night snack. Skipping a day at the gym. Indulging. Then you step on the scale and EEK! You haven't lost any weight. God forbid you've gained pounds! Now you're disappointed in yourself. All because you set a new year's resolution and failed. Miss me on all that.

So I just promise to BE A BETTER ME in 2012.

Jagged Little Pill

It's the weekend and I haven't been able to sleep in AT ALL. Yesterday I woke up at 7 a.m. Today I woke up around 8:00 a.m. I was never the type to watch or read the newspaper. It is quite depressing and full of politics. However, I've downloaded a cool app (Taptu) onto my NOOKcolor. So yeah, I'm reading the news now. And might I mention that my bones ache; my knees crack. Also, heartburn is expected when I eat certain foods now. Is this what post-XXX is about? 

In addition to the changes above, it seems I have also developed a strange gift. When a life-changing event is about to happen, I get a weird feeling. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or intuition. (I doubt it is psychic abilities, so stay out of my comments asking for a reading.) That feeling hit me unexpectedly this morning. I'm not sure what is to come exactly. I'll just wait until the dust settles. But oh, what I wouldn't give for a jagged little pill...

It's a New Life For Me

This may be the deepest blog post I will ever write. I'm hoping by writing these thoughts that I'll reach a decision. So grab a beach chair, refreshing drink, and ponder with me.

I've had migraines since the age of 4, on prescriptions since the age of 11. I'm almost 30 years old. You do the math. I've been suffering in pain for way too long. I have tried just about every migraine medication on the market. My Neurologist uses me to test new products (approved by FDA of course). Just when we think the perfect drug has been found to alleviate pain and aura, it stops working. For the last two weeks, the migraine level was high.  Way higher than normal. I immediately scheduled an appointment with my Neurologist.

Could it be stress? Well, I don't feel stressed. Nothing in my life is stressful. It has actually been carefree as of late. Could it be caffeine withdrawal because I'm slowly decreasing my Pepsi intake? Or maybe it is my sleeping or eating habits? With the exception of indulging in a Magnum ice cream bar, I stay away from chocolate. I get at least 8 hours of sleep. Going through my migraine journal, I couldn't determine the cause. I really couldn't understand why my injection was no longer as effective. It's a shot for goodness sakes. It goes straight to my blood stream and should work instantly. Not so for the last two weeks.

After visiting the doctor, it turns out my blood pressure is high. Blood pressure is the silent killer that plagues most blacks. You can't necessarily feel your pressure rising, hence why it can be deadly. Thankfully, it wasn't at stroke level. But definitely high enough to monitor. The downfall is I cannot take my injection with high blood pressure. Let me help you understand the severity. Because of high blood pressure, I cannot take the injection when I get a migraine. So I basically have to suffer through the pain. Weigh it out. Sleep it off. Hope it goes away on its own. It could take hours or even days. What an interruption of life!

Women's hormone levels change when giving birth. The hormone change could potentially relieve me of migraines for good. If you're a good friend or family member, you know how I feel about children. But lately, the idea of pushing out a crumbsnatcher is looking better and better. Yes, it would be for my own personal, selfish health reasons. But it could be a blessing. I still have a couple more options before resorting to child birth. One option being botox. FDA approved botox for the treatment of migraines. At this point, I am willing to look like a rejected B-list celebrity with a tight forehead and permanent -__-.  But frankly, I am tired of being a guinea pig playing trial-and-error with heavy drug dosages. Something has to give. New life or a face so tight you don't realize when I'm laughing? Decisions, decisions.

Of course I have WTT in heavy rotation. One of my favorite songs on the album is New Day. Jay and Ye rap about their unborn sons. It made me think. I don't want my unborn children to suffer from migraines either. It is a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I certainly wouldn't want to pass it on to my children. And it is selfish to bring a new life into the world just so I wouldn't be in pain anymore. On the other hand, I hear a lot of new parents say how a child saved their life. Do I want to make that commitment and let a child save mine?

The Butters

Hey, my hearts! I know it's been a minute, but hopefully your heart grew fonder with my absence.

Anyhoot, every once in a while a video on YouTube will strike my fancy and inspire a post. You probably read the post title and wondered what "The Butters" are. Well, check out the video below first.

Now do you understand what "The Butters" are? I understand the sprites may be clueless, but it's not too late to join the bandwagon and dump your "flavored waters" also known as lotion and reward your skin. I personally keep cocoa butter and shea butter (whipped white & raw yellow) on hand at all times. If you're crafty in the kitchen, I suggest whipping up your own natural batch.

**in my best Talking Tom voice** Lift those ashy hands and give 'em some butter!

Think Pink: Race for the Cure

Today, I am walking 5K for the cure of breast cancer. I'm walking in celebration of survivors and in memory of my grandmother, Cookie. For more information, visit Detroit Race for the Cure online. To learn more about the founder of Susan G. Komen for the cure, I recommend reading her memoir Promise Me: How a Sister's Love Launched the Global Movement to End Breast Cancer. 

Get Me Bodied...on the Couch with a Remote

While commenting on Converting Me blog, I decided to post something similar here. If you follow me on Twitter, you are familiar with my live tweets on drama, reality, and award shows. Every week I tell myself that I'll stop killing brain cells by watching the tube less. Welp, that hasn't happened yet. Why not? Because I can't stop missing all the fuckery on television! It puts a new perspective on my own life and makes me count my own blessings by watching reality TV. However, the drama shows are what really occupy my time. Plus, watching television is a huge part of me and Chickadee's quality time. We seriously make it an event with dinner, snacks, and interesting conversation. It's something I look forward to, even though she often falls asleep toward the end of prime time (Sh!t My Mama Do).

First of all, The Wire is one of the best drama series to ever exist. Its layering of story lines draw in watchers of every race and background. I'm still hoping for a follow-up film in theatres (along with The Sopranos). The cast of The Wire is valued by every network; hence, their frequent appearances. I love to see their faces again!

Without further ado, I'd like to share my weekly line-up. Post a comment below and let me know what you watch.

Monday:
Secret Life of the American Teenager
Nurse Jackie
U.S. of Tara
90210
The Closer*
Drop Dead Diva*

Tuesday:
The Good Wife (I drop everything to tune in!)
Hawthorne*
Southland*
Fairly Legal*

Thursday:
Grey's Anatomy
Private Practice

Sunday:
Brothers & Sisters
Luther*

*Shows I'm looking forward to the return of

Rihmix

Yesterday I participated in a 24 Hour Read-a-Thon. You can read about my progress on Precision Reviews. It was the perfect time to start my free trial of Rolling Stone Magazine. Here's a few of my random thoughts while reading the current issue.

• Welcome back, Brit! My timeline is abuzz with news of Rihanna and Britney teaming up for the S&M Rihmix. I'm in the minority and looking forward to it. Check out the funniest gif of Bey and Gaga's reaction when/if Brit and Rihanna perform the collabo live.
• Wish I could've witnessed the mic battle between Kanye and Jay-Z at the SXSW. I won't mention how Ye forgot his own lyrics. -__-
• Speaking of G.O.O.D. Music, Pusha T made Rolling Stone's Hot List. He won't be hot until he cuts those braids off.
• Wiz Khalifa and Snoop need to have a seat. The rappers will begin shooting a new movie titled High School this spring. Of course's it is about smoking weed.
• I'm all for healthy living and weight loss, but J Hud is a singing lollipop. Yeah, I said it.
• On a more serious note, R.I.P. Nate Dogg, Pinetop Perkins, and Elizabeth Taylor.
• Good luck to L.A. Reid who stepped down as Island Def Jam chair and will be a judge on Simon Cowell's new show The X Factor.
• Congrats to my BFF-in-my-head Adele. Her new album, 21, is still #1 in the Top 40 Albums. Her debut album, 19, closes out the list at #40. Her voice brings chills. Watch her perform Someone Like You at the 2011 Brit Awards below: 

• Prince's Kiss was a Top 10 single exactly 25 years ago (April 10, 1986). I was only four years old then, but it still jams. Watch his 2004 performance on Ellen below:

So those are my random thoughts of the current music news highlighted in this month's issue of Rolling Stone. Share yours.

Crunk for Jesus

I've made it halfway through Lent. 

I'll Be Waiting

Dear Pepsi,


It's only been four days since we last saw each other. Today was Daylight Saving Time. I could have really used your refreshing ice cold embrace to cope with the hour we lost. My meals just aren't the same without you to wash the food down. My body aches with withdrawal pains. I'm beyond thirsty and flat water just won't do. Chickadee even watches people's throats as they swallow (Sh!t My Mama Do).


Thirty-six more days until we meet again. I'll be waiting.


P.S. I went to a black funeral and you KNOW they served fried chicken. I was strong and ate the baked chicken instead. It wouldn't have tasted right anyway without you.

Take It All

Bare with me, dolls & gents. Be my strength, sweet baby Jesus. Lent has officially started (March 9 - April 17). I chose to sacrifice my top five vices:

Pepsi 

Fried Foods 

Makeup Purchases 

 Carry-out  

Dine-in 

I'll certainly be healthier and have a clearer mind without my liquid crack, deep fryer, and non home-cooked meals. My pocketbook will be heavier without indulging in makeup collections. But my neck? It may be tore up from scratching like a crackhead in the next 40 days. L Biggums, is that you?

I'm Fancy, Huh?

I got an award! **slides down the pole, lands in chinese splits, dougies with Tagalongs & Samoas, throws pink confetti, then taps the mic and begins acceptance speech. I'd like to thank God, my Mama...** 


The Stylish Blogger award was bestowed upon me by Yves, the authoress. Of course there are strings attached. I have to reveal seven random facts about myself and recommend a list of bloggers that I feel are worthy of this award. What an honor! So here it goes...


Random Facts about L. Marie
1. I've had migraines since the tender age of four, and have taken medication to prevent migraines since the age of eleven. I really don't know life without the pain of a headache. Pretty sad, huh?
2. I'm an unhealthy eater. Every meal includes additives like salt, butter, black pepper, gravy, sauce, etc. Every meal ends with a dessert too. I know my eating habits have to improve, but I'm not ready for such a drastic lifestyle change.
3. There are random moments that I miss Corporate America. Well, it's the steady, hefty paycheck that I miss. It's been almost 2.5 years since leaving and I still haven't fully adjusted. Although, my stress level has significantly decreased and my happy level is high.
4. Whenever my gas tank is near empty, I turn off the radio and heat/air conditioning. There is no logic behind it, but somehow I feel it helps to preserve gas.
5. I'm a mean girl. In about 50 more years, I'll be that old bitty sitting on the front porch sitting sweet tea talking about my neighbors fuckery.
6. I recently started tracing my ancestry and haven't found any Africans yet. So far, my roots are Irish. I've lived my entire life as a Black American. Depending on the ancestry results, it may just be self-proclaimed.
7. I'm a really private person. Only close friends and family know selective details about my everyday life. So this blogmoir is quite a challenge.


Other Fancy Bloggers Worthy of Award:
1. Dame
2. Eclectik
3. Kim
4. Steph
5. Spinks
6. Cande
7. Diva V
8. Brooks
9. Marq

My President Is Black (Remix) ~ Jay-Z

(Sing along in honor of Presidents' Day)

My President is black

In fact he's half white

So even in a racist mind

He's half right

If you have a racist mind

You be aight

My President is black

But his house is all white

Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther could walk

Martin Luther walked so Barack Obama could run

Barack Obama ran so all the children could fly

So I'ma spread my wings 

You can meet me in the sky 

Want You To See All of the Lights

I previously mentioned in a random rant that music is everything. I've been patiently waiting for the official video to All of the Lights by Kanye West featuring fitty lem artists (Rihanna, Sir Elton John, Kid Cudi, John Legend, Tony Williams, Alicia Keys, La Roux's Elly Jackson, The Dream, Ryan Leslie, Alvin Fields, Fergie, Charlie Wilson, and Ken Lewis). The video is directed by Hype Williams. Um, it just has a lot of lights. I'm also annoyed that Fergie's vocal part is eliminated. Either the budget was low, or this is another of Kanye's artistic moments that went over my head. Or maybe he simply wanted us to see all of the lights, like the song says. Check it out below and share your two cents.

Still crossing my fingers for a live Grammy performance in 2012 with less lights, but ALL of the artists. It really is the best collaboration to date.

Sh!t My Mama Do ~ Ch. 2

Of the many talents that my Mama is blessed with, dream interpretation is the most beneficial. Yes, she has the gift to interpret dreams. She doesn't use reference books either. The meaning of a dream and its corresponding numeric definition is all stored in her brain. What is the corresponding numeric definition, you ask? Basically, the 3- or 4-digit lottery number. You may be confused so let me break it down.


The average person has 3-5 dreams per night. The person may or may not remember them upon waking up. For those of us who do remember the dream, it leaves us wondering what it means. This is where Chickadee comes in. Simply tell her your dream and she will interpret it. She then translates it into a lottery number. It is up to the dreamer whether or not to play it. 


This, dolls and gents, is a gift. For Chickadee, she is "just looking for that number." For others, it gives insight to what a dream means and possibly a small fortune. I personally don't remember my dreams every night. For the dreams that do stand out, I ask her to interpret and then play it in the lottery. About 90% of my dreams fall in the lottery and its interpretation happens in real life, so best believe I take advantage. The sh!t my mama do pays!


Now excuse me while I go play midday.

Random Rant ~ Ch. 2

I want that Rocky & Adrian / Jay & Bey / Obama & Michelle type of love.

I don't contribute to the never-ending, forever collecting, church "building fund." I've exchanged my choir robe for a leopard snuggie. Judge me if you want, but Bedside Baptist fits my needs. The Lord knows my heart.

There are 6 seasons: Winter, Girl Scout Cookies, Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Bey Season.

Just because a show is "black" doesn't mean I have to support it. I therefore blame Black Twitter for hyping me up on return of The Game. This season sucks.

Music is everything. There is always a song to fit my current mood.

Blow The Whistle by Too Short is still my party anthem. WHAT'S MY FAVORITE WORD?!

Jay-Z could stand still as a mannequin on a stage. If all he says is, "Uh huh uh uh" or even takes a small breath of air, I'll believe it was the best performance ever. /\ 

There's actually someone I stan for harder than S. Carter.

Once, I took an extremely long nap. Frantically looked outside and it was dark. I thought the world had ended. My first thought was about food. It concerns me I didn't drop to my knees and pray for salvation. 

I sleepwalk...to the kitchen. Many nights, I wake up with clenched fists holding bits of food, or crumbs on my pillow.

Pepsi is my liquid crack. I literally have a panic attack if I run out.

I'm giving up makeup/beauty purchases and Pepsi for Lent (March 9-April 17). Sweet baby Jesus, be my strength.

Mentally, I reside in the UK. I'm working on the physical part.

I'm a celebrity in my own mind.

Free Sweetie.

Close family & friends know that I'm a mean girl.

The sooner I approach XXX, I see signs of getting old. For example, I've started talking extra loud on long distance calls.

Can I count sold eggs as a dependent?

Welcome XXX With Open Arms

In exactly seven months, I will be 10,950 days old. EEK!


Our society portrays 30 years old as either "the end of something great" or "the beginning of something bad." Most of the things that people want to accomplish by the age of 30, I've already done. Two college degrees, homeowner, traveled the world, entrepreneur and more. **toot toot** So below is a revised list of things I want to do before the big day.

• Complete manuscripts.
• Finish postgraduate certificate.
• Research the UK in length.
• Quit cursing as much.
• Have fat transfer surgery.
• Sell eggs.
• Consider trying another blind date.
• Have a full shopping spree...in my closet.
• Create a timetable for my future.
• Become half a millionaire.
• Sky dive or bungee jump.
• Measure success on a personal, not societal level.
• Live, laugh, and love in the moment.
• Pay attention to life as it occurs.
• Minimize pointless drama.
• Be a better me.
• Plan and send invites to XXX Bash.

My list is realistic, but what's the rush? If I was to reach all my goals by 30, then there would be nothing to look forward to. A woman's life expectancy is 80 years old, so I have at least 50 more years to accomplish success. POW! So instead of dreading my next birthday, I welcome it with open arms.


For the book review of 30 Isn't Old, visit my other blog Precision Reviews. 

Cause I Love You

In honor of this ♡ holiday, I'm paying tribute to my fave 3 couples.  

Rocky & Adrian

President Barack Obama & First Lady Michelle Obama

Jay-Z & Beyonce (Jayonce)

I want their kind of love. Happy Valentine's Day, dolls & gents!

Girls, Girls, Girls

There are five seasons: Winter, Girl Scout Cookies, Spring, Summer & Fall. 


I had a brief stint as a Boy Scout, so I still support the scouts whenever possible. Yes, I meant Boy. That was no typo. My bestie's dad was a Troop Leader. The Boy Scouts always had the best camping trips. So one year, he agreed to take us. We snuck on camping grounds in baseball hats and loose fitting clothes. The dilemma was swimwear. Our disguises didn't last long and we were found out. But oh, did we have fun! So, purchasing Girl Scout cookies every season is my way of showing appreciation. Help support & buy a box.

Ain't No Feeling Like Being Free

Yesterday, I went to an Underground Railroad tour. Underground Railroad was the term used to describe a network of abolitionists, fugitive slaves, and people who helped escaped slaves on their way to freedom in the North. It began in the 1830's and continued for years.


The tour was the most humbling experience. Upon entry, we were given wrist bands labeled "SLAVE." Then we were seated and watched a video from the History channel (watch excerpts here). Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, and Uncle Tom's Cabin were featured. I already learned and remembered most of the facts from elementary/middle school. Every February, we celebrated Black History Month with a game called Bates Battle. We'd earn Bates Bucks and get to purchase items. 


In the middle of the video, our group of seven was silently ushered away to begin our journey. Our group of slaves were escaping a plantation in Louisiana and heading North to Midnight (Detroit). We could only travel up to six miles in the still of the night. Our journey took an entire year. Imagine walking in fear for approximately 365 miles. Wow...our ancestors were strong and determined. We learned some of the signals used. For example, a lit lantern meant the safehouse was a stop on the Underground Railroad. It was safe to knock, enter, rest and eat. An inward turned boot on the lawn of a hotel meant that it was okay to check in. If it was turned outward, bounty hunters and slave-catchers were in the hotel so it wasn't safe to lay our heads there. There were no GPS systems or Mapquest back then. All we had was the North Star and green moss on trees to guide us North. Our conductor was very careful, for our safety was in his hands. We didn't lose any packages (escaped slaves) along the way. 


Afterward, we had a roundtable discussion with a minister and others participants of the tour. We had the opportunity to share our feelings, knowledge, and learned more history. Again, it was a very humbling experience. There were times that I almost cried at the thought of slavery. I wondered would I be brave enough to escape to freedom? Would I be as strong as my ancestors? Would I risk my own life to lead others to freedom? I'd like to think that I would be a leader and a writer for The North Star, a newspaper created by Frederick Douglass.


Ain't no feeling like being free. Ain't no feeling like being brown. I wouldn't be any other race. Happy Celebrating Black History Month!

Dear Week, 


I'm so over you. I'm leaving you for your best friend, Weekend. Don't try to find us for at least 2 days. 


Love (not really), 

So Appalled

"If you don't have children, you serve no purpose in life."

How should I begin this? I'm just so offended. This ignorant statement was said to me during a conversation today. A dude looked me straight in the eye and said I have no purpose in life. In his eyes, I am basically worthless because I don't have children.


You're probably wondering what my reaction was. Well, I wear heels 98% of the time. But today, sweet baby Jesus was looking out for dude because I happened to be wearing flats. Had I been wearing a stiletto, my foot would have swiftly kicked him down below. As he's crouched over in pain, I'd tell him that a man serves no purpose in life without balls. POW! 


Instead, I remained calm & responded with my two cents. Procreation is NOT a woman's only purpose. Some women just aren't meant to be mothers, and we don't have to be. This is 2011. Roe vs. Wade made abortion legal in 1973. Adoption is legal, and some countries allow international adoption programs. Women have choices now. So to be an asshat and believe our sole purpose is childbirth is fuckin' ridiculous! **in my best RZA voice**


Success is not measured by how many children you bore. I know plenty of women that are not mothers and are very successful. Look at Oprah. Look at Jennifer Aniston. Look at me! And what about the women who are medically unable to conceive? They are worthless too? Boy BYE...have a seat.


After ranting online, I was more appalled to see that dude isn't alone in his views. There are even women who believe our reason for existing is to produce offspring. Nevertheless, everyone is entitled to a belief. Thanks to all my dolls & gents that co-signed me. For those that agree with dude's statement, (•͡. •͡┌П┐. Logout of life.

Imported From Detroit

For those of you who missed the best Super Bowl XLV commercial, check it out below. It requires no commentary or explanation on my behalf. The best is simply imported from Detroit.

Random Rant

I still dance really hard whenever I hear Usher's OMG.

When I get a little money, I buy books and food. If any is left, I pay bills.

A crumb-snatcher stepped on my JC boots. My accessories are not child proof.

As many baby showers/bridal showers/kid birthday parties as I attend, the gesture better be reciprocated when it comes my turn.

Retail therapy keeps me sane.

It is February 6th. Stop saying, "Happy New Year."

Americans are full of fuckery. Hence the reason I'm a Londoner in my head.

I hate tax season. Single people with no children are punished, not rewarded, at this time.

I have the old Negro spiritual "Let My People Go" stuck in my head. My subconscious knows it is Black History Month.

I belong to Bedside Baptist.

Be safe, my beweavable ladies. I don't want to see tracks stuck on ice if you fall.

Anderson Cooper needs to have a seat...on a plane back to USA.

Thanks to CNN, I witnessed a camel-jacking in Egypt.

Social networks make it easier for liars and life exaggerators.

Yesterday, I went to the childless chick's nightmare: Chuck E. Cheese. Afterward, I had a drink...and a birth control pill.

More Than a Woman

I've been on some wacky dates in my lifetime. Dating is definitely an entertaining experience. Today, I'll share one that really stands out. Disclaimer: To protect the wack, first initials are used.


Now I usually don't do hookups. They hardly ever work out and I'm left in an awkward position afterward. The first, and last, blind date I had was a hookup. The dude was older and I assumed well established. I'm safety conscious, so agreed to meet him at our destination. He waited until the day of to disclose the location. Well, the general vicinity. He gave me the cross streets of where we were to meet and the time. This was his idea of surprise. This should have been my first red flag. 


However, I played along and made it to the intersection clearly confused. It was a shopping strip with Target, a liquor store, a couple clothing stores, a shoe repair shop, a buffet, and movie theatre. Nevertheless, I parked and waited. A two-tone 2-door 1997 Grand Am pulls up beside me. The body was white with a fire engine red hood, trunk, and rims. The interior was dark brown leather with red accents. Neopolitan paint job, sir? The driver is a short thin dude dressed in heavily starched Guess jeans and a button-up. Yes, the old school Guess jeans with the upside down triangle logo on the back pocket with creases that'll cut you. Taco meat is peeking out of his button-up too. I just KNOW this isn't my date. I roll my car window down half an inch and ask, "G?" He smiles crookedly and nods. No, this can't be life.

We proceed out of our respective rides and start walking toward...Old Country Buffet. He must have noticed the vicious side-eye I'm giving because he hurries to explain. "This is my favorite spot to eat. You can't beat the variety at this price. I knew if I gave you a heads up, a classy lady like yourself wouldn't agree so...surprise!" I can't believe I got all dolled up for this fuckery. The mean girl in me wanted to get back in my car and drive off. Yet, I stuck it out. We walked in and much to my dismay, it was like an episode of Cheers. Everybody knew his name! Apparently, he wasn't kidding when he said Old Country Buffet was his fave spot. Later I discover it was also his first job. 


I won't trouble you with the details of how much fried chicken, mac-n-cheese, and brown-and-serve rolls we ate. The conversation during dinner was grueling. We had nothing in common. Plus, I was still in shock. Fast forward to the end of the blind date and we're saying our goodbyes. I give him a half-ass hug with a tap on the shoulder. We get in our separate cars. I breathe a sigh of relief, buckle up, and scramble for my cell so I can call the friend who set this up. Then I hear the faint sound of an engine that won't turn over. Low and behold, this dude's pimped out Grand Am won't start. He asks, "Can you give me a boost?" Without waiting for my reply, he reaches in the backseat and grabs jumper cables. Whaaaaa?! The fact that he keeps jumper cables in the back seat lets me know this is a frequent problem for him. The mean girl in me kicks in. I shake my head no and drive off.  


Looking back, all I can do is share, learn, and laugh. Thank goodness for music and the opportunity to blog about it. Speaking of music, happy birthday to Detroit's own: Aaliyah. Her lyrics have truly gotten me through dating woes and celebrating the single life of a young woman in her twenties. 

Meet the Parents

I spent the last 24 hours with my munchkins. I have a new appreciation for parents and especially single mothers/fathers. Every ounce of my energy is drained. Every minute was devoted to their well-being. I couldn't sleep in. I had to actually fix breakfast in the morning. I couldn't just curl up with my snuggie and NOOKcolor. My television didn't even know how to act. It's used to programmed reality shows of fuckery, not cartoons. 


But also in the last 24 hours, I realized that I really love moments with my munchkins. Yesterday was also my niece's first birthday party. To see them growing up, learning, and interacting with other children warms my heart. It just doesn't warm it enough to want the experience first hand. Moments are enough.


As I grow older, I am embracing that being a parent isn't for everyone. I don't have the patience for this on a full time basis. I'm perfectly fine with being an Auntie and Godmommy Tai Tai. And that's okay. Therefore, I am pressing the snooze button on my biological clock. The next time it goes off, I may just unplug it altogether. **L Dot Shrug**

Sh!t My Mama Do ~ Ch. 1

This is what happens when your Mama follows you on Twitter. Per the previous post, I was up in the wee hours of the morning watching infomercials. Then I thought, if I start wearing booty pops now then maybe I'll have a valentine by February 14th. Well, apparently my Mama read those tweets and sent me the above reply. -__- 


What's booty pop you ask? Watch the official infomercial below. They have been around for years. My Grandma actually had a pair back in her day. Anyhoot, I refuse to let my Mama order a pair. However, she is a seamstress and is fully capable of sewing her own. EEK!

Give it to Me!

So I'm up late watching infomercials and scrolling through the horoscopes on my Twitter timeline. I'm either weak-minded or tired in the wee hours of the morning because I see the above infomercial for pajama jeans. A fashion faux pas! However, this infomercial is really persuading and I have the sudden urge to order a pair. Judge me. Judge me NOW.

Welcome to my Blogmoir!

Friends and family have suggested that I write a memoir. The stories I tell, the people I meet, the fuckery I witness should be documented. Well, if you follow my other blog then you know that I've recently read and reviewed two books that started off as just blogs and are now bestsellers. These facts are not lost on me. So, I'm going to try my hand at blogging my own personal accounts of certain events and people (hence the term blogmoir) and hope that a major publisher(s) contacts me. At the very least, I'll provide you with laughter, thought, and a glimpse into my sarcastic world. It will also feature the highly anticipated stories of "Sh!t My Mama Do." 


Please follow, subscribe, retweet, like it on Facebook, and offer your own two cents in the comments section of each post. There is only one thing that I want you to remember. **in my best Jay-Z voice** It's only entertainment!