Man, Fuck Prop 8, Part II November 13, 2008

Oh but I
Need some time off from that emotion
Time to pick my heart up off the floor
And when that love comes down
Without devotion
Well it takes a strong man baby
But I’m showing you the door

- “Faith” by George Michaels

So tonight, it is so late, and I am so awake.  I’m just sitting here thinking.  About all kinds of things.  Things that make me happy, things that make me sad, who’ll I’ll send my first letter from overseas to (because an email wouldn’t be sufficient).  Somehow, I got to thinking about how I feel about this whole Prop 8 biz, and just the entire idea of same sex couples in general.

I’ve said often, that this life is for the strong and the rich.  Lots of folks ain’t rich.  And these days, lot’s of folks ain’t so strong.  And sometimes, when you’re not strong enough, you need somebody to hold you up.  Or hold you down.  Or just fucking hold you.  And not with the view that they will tell you that everything will be alright.  Not with the view that their holding you will make everything alright.  Sometimes, you just need someone to hold on to until you’re alright with things not being alright.

When a person has that need, I just don’t see myself as qualified to tell them where they should turn to satiate it.  Baldwin once wrote about seeking false and meaningless physical comfort, and how doing such impedes love that’s true and real entering your life.  I just don’t see how one could be doing themselves any favors if they are seeking love from a source they don’t want.  I know how taboo it is.  I know that I have dear friends who will adamantly disagree with me.  But I also know what it’s like to need the deep void filled.  I just think that life sends us so many curve balls, pit falls and brick walls, sometimes, you’ve gotta grow a pair and break the rules a little for some respite.

I’ve been thinking alot about my parents; the traditional heterosexual, Christian conservative values couple.  They had been married 18 years.  Eighteen years of struggling, raising kids, worshipping together.  She passed away one afternoon in a long ago November.  My father was engaged to one of her “dearest” friends that January.  Now, I had to go through a lot of forgiveness with this.  Because my father is the only parent I have.  His wife makes him happy.  But there is  part of me that is still so raw that in 18 years, he didn’t even get the chance to miss her.  After 18 years, he erased her and pulled the next number.  And that’s Christian love?  That’s what the big fight is to preserve?

I remember being married, and still going to church.  When it was discovered that i had left my husband, that scheduled a meeting with us to counsel my “family.”  When I ran down the abuse that I had dealt with, physical and mental; the indignities that I had to cope with, including the fact that he had fathered another woman’s child; and that I felt as though no one would really understand me, they proved my assumption to be true.  The same people that gave my father congradulatory pats on the back for all but scorching the earth that held my mother’s remains, told me to pray that I could frogive him because preserving my marriage would be pleasing to God.  How?  Or for that matter, what marriage?   I can’t think of five minutes of that ordeal, that would qualify as ordained and holy.

Sometimes it just seems that there are the rules for us, and then there are the rules for those who make the rules.  When you have tears that won’t stop flowing, feel alone, feel forgotten – in those moments, I know how priceless a well placed hand on the cheek can be.  There are far too many other battles to fight, to legislate just how that hand should look.

“Missed it by that much” (c) Maxwell Smart November 6, 2008

I* almost let a day pass without blogging or writing.  Still not sure if I’ll be able to get my write on, but I’ve gotta at least blog.

Who saw South Park last night?  “Celebrate Good Obama! Come on!”  Did he really sing “Obama” to the tune of Mandy?  Like, for real?  It’s beyond hilarious.

I believe my children are now losing their minds.  For the last couple of days, I’ve had to repeat myself three times.  Now, I put great effort into not being a shreiking harpy 24/7, but tonight I told them to scrape their plates and brush their teeth.  Nobody budged.  This was after nobody budged when I told them to take the garbage out while I was cooking dinner.  I didn’t go shreiking harpy, but I did put my “I will snatch a knot out your ass,” voice on.  First of all, I have NO earthly clue how one goes about snatching a knot out of someone’s ass, nor do I know how one would get a knot in their ass.  I just know that when my mother said it to me, I got the feelng it would end with me on life support?

There was a report about childen being safer staying with their grandparents as opposed to daycare.  So, on the one half of the argument, there’s “duh”.  The only person that could come close to taking care of a kid than mama, is mama’s mama.  Plus, if you’ve got grandparents like mine, the kid won’t be around anything sharp, won’t watch anything above a G rating (it doesn’t even matter if you’re 25), and will be pumped so full of bran, you’ll be able to set your watch by their bowels.  Daycare is expensive as hell, so typically, if a kid is in daycare, that means that the parent probably doesn’t have the option of grandparent care for one reason or another.  Who funds these studies?  I’m goign to conduct a study.  If you take laxatives, you’re gonna poop.  A lot.  Fuck you.  Pay me.

The puns on CSI are positively abysmal.  No story there.  I like certain aspects of the show, but, ugh.

So, I was planning to go to to South Africa next year, possibly around Christmas.  Nine days in the Motherland.  It would give me a break between my other vacations.  However, since I don’t want the schedule of others, I’d have to go alone, creating a considerable expense.  Combine that with the shitty economy and my employer telling me that I will not be receiving a bonus this year (and I’m presuming a raise next year, I’m no dummy) as a result of that shitty economy, and you have a postponed visit to Table Mountain.  I was also going to spend the day in Zambia and see Victoria Falls.    Correction, I AM going to spend the day in Zambia and see Victoria Falls; it just may be postponed.  That being said, I’ve peeped out a charming hotel within walking distance to the Eiffel Tower that would look delightful wrapped around me.

The exciting reaction I had over the Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe game was embarrassing.  i got so geeked, my kid looked at me and asked, “Do you really care about stuff like that?”  I’m fairly certain ones kids should not outgrow them.

I love teh Brooke Sheilds Routan commercials.  Priceless.  it’s like she’s saying “Suck it Cruise!”

You know what word I like for genitals?  “Junk.”  Especailly when said with the right inflection.  Yeah…junk.  Heh heh.

CNN…AIN’T GOT SHIT…ON ME! November 3, 2008

So we’re almost there.  The day that will have the entire world looking at the United States.  So let’s chat a bit lambs.

There are a whole lot of people that subscribe to this, “I’d like a president that I can have a beer with,” jazz.  *Family Feud buzzer*  Who wants this shit?  First of all, that statement ends in a preposition, so you’re fucking up out the gate.  But let’s not get hung up on minutiae.  I got problems yall.  If I wake up late and Pootie Tang is on, I’m watching it.  EVERY.  TIME.  I listen to Lil Wayne.  I was married to a guy that ate raw pasta.  I could go down a laundry list of shit that will let you know I shouldn’t even be able to relate to my garbage man.  It was said that this country celebrates the average, and it’s sadly true.  I respect humility as much as the next person (maybe even more than some), however, as a leader, someone should be able to stand up and say, “Uh…you know you done fucked up right?”

Enough with Joe the Plumber:  I first indict him for looking like a generalized douchebag that part times at Razzoo’s as a murderer bouncer.  But aesthetics aside, not only would dude benefit from Obama’s proposed tax plan (which is supposedly his rationale behind supporting McCain), but dude isn’t even a licensed plumber.  And the cherry on this shit sundae is that dude OWES $1200 in unpaid taxes.  Maybe if he watched more Boondocks and less Fox News, he would have known how unwise it is to show up on television when you owe folks money.  In the hood, if you owe a muhfukka $20.00, you better stay inside ’til your next payday.

Every time Sarah Palin speaks in public, Hanna Montana gets a money shot in the eye from the underwear model.  (I’m not sure that’s true, but I have seen nothing to disprove this theory.)  Am I the only one that finds it ironic that she criticizes Obama for his loose association with Ayers, and yet she hasn’t looked at her own running mate sideways for choosing a broad that doesn’t read and is obviously nutty as squirrel poop.  What?  You think she don’t know she’s crazy?

There is evidently a flyer going around saying that one party votes on the 4th and the other on the 5th.  Now, though I think this is positively deplorable, we do not live in the age of stage coaches and snail mail.  As annoying as 24 hour news is, damn near every station has some sort of countdown in effect.  Secondly, in my 31 years on this earth, “Election Day” has been the first Tuesday in November.  As a matter of fact, if you went to school, you got election day off, because, often, people were getting their vote on at your school.  So, to that I say, don’t be a dumbass.

And now ladies and gentlemens, I’m going to complete what Joe Biden couldn’t say after his “Obama will be tested” statement:

Look, I’m white, I know how some of ya’ll do.  Just like you manufacture all sorts of other shit *cough* war on terror *cough*, you’re gonna try and get this dude in some bullshit.  Just like yall like to hand the losing team to a black man, you’re handing this shit sandwich of a country to this dude and you’re gonna fuck with him.”

I’m sure that, were he allowed, he would address the fact that he has a 6 foot tall adoring wife that probably fights with her thumbs out.

“Even though the birds ain’t singin, and the sun ain’t shinin…” October 26, 2008

“…it looks like a beautiful morning.”

- “Beautiful Morning” Little Brother

So, I discovered Friday night that there is a major setback in my routine.  A setback that would usually reduse me to tears and cry out asking why I have been forsaken.  But I know my life, and I know that for whatever reason, the universe has to keep me on my toes.  Considering our economy, I’m sort of glad that I know what it’s like to be focused on my grind and make a dollar out of fifteen cents.  Your girl can DO the damn thing with some beans, ya heard me.  I won’t even talk about how I can get down with some chicken thighs and lemon pepper.

I should totally be asleep, particularly considering that I like to watch reruns of “The Practice” early on Sunday mornings, but I typically wake up early anyway.  I feel so accomplished, because i did everything that was on my list today.  It kept me busy, but I don’t have the beat-down feeling I was anticipating.

Quick!  Five things worse than that movie “The Cookout?”  Wasn’t it just DEPLORABLE.

While we’re on the topic of public tragedies, GARY BUSEY!  Holy shit.  I talk to my kids about drugs regularly, and my children being my children, ask me the whys and wherefores of why drug abuse is bad.  Gary Busey was on television.  I pointed to that.  This dude has been off coke, according to him, for longer than my son has been alive, and yet he is still totally off his nut.  Astounding.

I think it’s time to go to sleep now.

grrrrrrr October 5, 2008

i should be asleep.  at this very minute, i should be asleep.  i’ve spent the last few hours writing.  i had no idea that time slipped away from me. i have this exercise where i do deep breathing exercises and find my happy place.  it’s just that by the time i think of that, way too much time has passed.

the thing is, i’ve done so much writing, and i’m not sure how much of it i’m going to use.  no bigs.  i just hate that television is so bad, and i don’t want to get out of bed and start doign things around the house, because once i get in that zone, i’ll NEVER go to bed.  ah well.  guess i’ll watch the i love money crap on mtv until i fall into a coma.  peace.

just b

HoneyMolassesCherrySugarSomethingOrTheOther October 4, 2008

Last night, I decided to treat myself to body butter from Carol’s Daughter.*  The name of the product I purchased is SweetHoneyDip ChocolateBrownSugah.  As the name implies, it smells like a hybrid of honey, cocoa and sugar.  My skin feels like a dream, but I have mixed feelings both about the need to name body products after food, as well as my compulsion to purchase such products.

I’m flipping through the channels, and I passed MTV.  A male and female (mother and son actually) were doing sculptures.  As I looked, I said, “That looks like a penis.  I have a filthy mind.”  Lo and behold, they were doing penis sculptures.  I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I discovered that Target sells OPI nail polish.  My insides did the happy dance.

My arms are still tanned from the summer.  OMG, I was SO golden delicious this summer, lol.  However, all that was not exposed to the sun looks anemic – vampiric even.  I plan on being a total beach bunny next summer.  Crazy as it sounds, i think I want to learn how to surf.  Of course, I have to learn how to swim first.  That’s one think that sucks about growing up in a black American city.  For some reason, there is no focus, concern or desire to teach black children how to swim.  I have other opinions on this.  Ask me someday.

I have sworn off fried chicken until after the new year.

The midnight wakeups are beginning to be slightly annoying.  But oh well.  Going to watch Harvey Birdman now.

*I do not believe that body butter is a treat.  Skin care is something that I take very seriously, and I view the “good shit” as a bill.  Take care of yourself and yourself will take care of you!

just b

Ugh September 29, 2008

It’s 2:38, and I’m awake.  I hate when that happens.  Pretty much every night, around this time, I get up for some inexplicable reason.  Since writing has pretty much taken over all of my free time, I end up either blogging or writing in my journal.  I’ve tried watching porn, but it really doesn’t do it for me these days.  I’m sure this is only temporary, but you have no idea how irritating the ability to rub one out can be.  I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’m thinking (hoping) that once I’m published, I’ll be a little less keyed up.  Being a surly xantippe is not the move.  I also don’t want some dude telling me how over the course of 90 minutes, he can solve all my problems with his penis.*

It’s Monday, and though last week was hellacious, it was so for the purpose of getting two of my bosses out of the country.  Mission accomplished, so I should be able to occasionally hear myself think.  The plan is to revamp my desk entirely, so that when i do have to pack up and move offices next year, it will be a smooth transition.  I plan on being out of the office during the big move.

I think I’m slipping into slumberland…finally.

just b

*I pray for those who don’t get this “Family Guy” reference.

“For Colored Girls…” September 26, 2008

Beat down.  That’s this chicktoday.  I don’t think I’ve heard my name at all today without a request chaser (B, would you mind…?)  When I walked through the door at 10 o-freakin-clock, I heard every singe song for down-trodden black family and/or woman.  It started with Oooh Child,” followed by “Baby Mama” and went on from there.  I thought it was cute that I called my younger sister, and she had Alicia Keys’ “Superwoman” as my ring and call tone.

When I finally sat down, my feet felt as though I had spent th entire day walking on glass.  It had me thinking about the last time I got a really good foot rub.  It’s been so long, I can’t remember.  it seems, however, that I’m getting sprinkled with some pixie dust.  There is a whole lot more for me to say, but my eyelids are too heavy. nite world.

just b

Keeping Me Sane September 26, 2008

I have a long day ahead of me, but I can’t sleep. My mind is swirling a million miles a minute, and I’m having a hard time slowing it down. Partially because I’m going through some hurt and anger right now; partially because well, I just can’t stop thinking. What’s funny is that I’ve only had one cup of coffee EAAAAARLYYYYY this (yesterday) morning.

Axe has this creepy commercial, where this dude is made out of chocolate.  Women are taking off pieces of his face, pulling off his arms, biting chunks out of his ass.  This is really not the shit I want to be looking at before I go to bed, but of course they show it during Adult Swim.

I’m going through a 1/3 life crisis, I think.  I wanted things to be so different at 31.  So far, all I’ve managed to do was complete a couple of short stories and come to the conclusion that I’m either getting another tattoo or something pierced.  (Nothing freaky you nasty bastards.)  I’d been feeling really down about it, but I’m reading Suze Orman’s The Money Book for the Young Fabulous and Broke, and she mentioned that she was still waitressing at 29, making $400 a month.  That’s only 2-3 years younger than I, and my salary is much healthier.  My coworker told me not to worry, because real life begins at 40 anyway.  I’m sure I will have met my 23 year old boyfriend by then.

Adult Swim should really come on during prime time.  I want to watch “Venture Brothers” too dammit!

No weight loss to report this week, unfortunately.  It’s been a rough week.  But I’m back in the saddle, and I plan to be at least 12 lbs lighter by my birthday.  I’m not even viewing it as an option.  It MUST happen.

just b

Crickets in my Shower September 20, 2008

In actuality, it’s one cricket…and he’s lonely.  I don’t care for bugs at all.  They creep; they crawl; they wedge themselves in places they ought not.  Of course, every bug has its place in the ecosystem [what is the purpose of roaches?], but they can really cramp my style.  Once one of my W.I. homeboys and I were hanging out, and I saw the most humongous spider in my doorway.  Okay, maybe it was not that humongonous, but it was blocking my way to the outiside world, so from my perspective, it looked like this. I was about to let him have it, when my homeboy told me about how it was bad luck to kill spiders in doorways because they keep something out/in.  For some reason, i feel like the same thing would apply to crickets.  I feel if there’s some karmic protection over spiders in doorways, the musical cricket should be afforded some type of courtesy in a shower.  But if he doesn’t stop playing Queen’s “Somebody to Love” on his cricket legs, he’s going to meet an untimely demise.

This is totally random, but do you know that folks at the Burger King drive in get HIGHLY offended if your order “chicken nuggets?”  I mean, you say the word “nuggets,” and they totally lose their shit.  It was late, and all I wanted was some food for Finge and the Bug.  I wasn’t a complete douche.  I didn’t order MCnuggets.  Just nuggets.  I don’t think McDonald’s owns the word “nugget.”  Doesn’t Tyson’s chicken call their stuffl nuggets?  In any event, on this particular day, I happened to get a company ho, who got mad belligerent and said, “Uh, we don’t carry nuggets here.  We have tenders.”  Now, since I don’t want my kids getting pubes in their Kids’ Meals and shit (I neglected to mention that I also feel I should get cool points for not calling it a Happy Meal), I didn’t say what was on my mind:

If you don’t get your nickel-95 ass in that kitchen and get my children whatever the fuck it is you call those already masticated and reconfigured poultry chunks, Imma dive on you, then tapdance over your fallen form wearing two Happy Meal boxes.

But I chilled. I don’t always like being a grown up.

B Jack