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.