It's been a long week. My husband and I embarked on a six day detox last week, and all I can say is that I am SO GLAD to be able to eat real food again.
This was step one on our journey to lose weight together and I figured I'd write about it, and maybe somewhere down the road this will be of use to someone.
I've always been a 'big girl'. Through out high-school I was a solid 14/16. But after nearly five years of marriage and two children later, let's just say I am no longer sporting my 'girlish' firgure.
But I want it back. And dammit I WILL have it back! I actually want to be smaller than that, but that is one goal on my road to better health. At the size I am now (22/24), I am not healthy. Not as healhty as I could be. I have children to think about, a husband who I adore. I want to be around for them.
Recently, I lost my father due to poor health and eating so all of this is really hitting home for me. I don't want my husband to bury me. I don't want to bury him, so together we are making this change for the better.
The detox was pretty much a six day liquid fast in which you drank assigned smoothies and juices every 2 - 3 hours. This detox drop is a part of the Food Lovers Fat Loss System which I had to re-order b/c I lost some of the key components.
This is the second time I've done the detox and I have to admit this go round as A LOT easier than the first. My dreaming about food didn't happen until about day 4. Last time it was from the moment I started that food was ALWAYS on my mind.
I think the most difficult thing was not being able to eat food. I wasn't necessarily hungry, but the mechanics of physically eating were missed. This detox also makes sure you are hydrated demanding a minimum of 2 quarts of water a day on top of what you are already drinking.
I lost 9.4lbs so far.
I can honestly say I have more energy now than I did before and am more focused. We'll how it goes when I start the 21 day metabolism makeover (when it arrives)
Until then!
Sebine
Monday, April 19, 2010
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
The Black Donnelly
o quote Erykah Badu, 'I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my sh*t!', so keep that in mind as I post this.
I am a writer. Been writing since grade school. Hopefully, it can take me somewhere. In any event, this is a one-shot I wrote about a show that is no longer on the air (due to the gayness that is NBC), The Black Donnelly's. It came about from a monthly challenge that was posed on one of the forums I am apart of. Fanfiction has never really been my forte but the challenge was to write something you've never written before so this was my attempt.
The Black Donnellys, about an Black Irish family in the area known as Hell's Kitchen, in New York.
If you've never seen the show and want to get a better grasp of what is going on in the story, you can catch the pilot episode on Youtube. This clip takes place right after episode 8: In Each One A Savior.
This fabulous banner is the work of TokenBlackGirl. Thank you so much for lending your extraordinary talents to my story!
As far as disclaimers go, I don't own The Black Donnelly's, but this particular storyline as well as Sia Gregory definitely belong to me :)
It was 'Family Above All' until she came along...
2007
Kevin sat back against the building’s railing, waiting. It was dark and desolate on the corner of 14th street and 10th Avenue. His hands in his pockets, he took in his surroundings: The highway, the bridge, gas station across the street. Everything seemed crisper, clearer. Having a death warrant over your head could do that.
As much as he liked to consider himself lucky, he wasn’t. It was his ‘luck’ that landed him in his grave. A winning bet placed on the phone of a murdered bookie, was how he landed himself in this hole. He should have listened to his older brother, Jimmy, and gotten rid of the phone when they dumped the body. He didn’t. The idea of having a bookie’s phone seemed too good to pass up. And that’s how Cottero figured out he was involved with Louie Downtown’s murder. He was the mysterious ‘Cloudy’ that owed him a g-note. But instead of getting paid, he got found out.
His day had officially ended in the shitter.
He looked at his watch again. It was almost eleven. He was tempted to pull out his phone and call again when he spotted her walking towards him. He’d never seen a walk like hers before. It was kind of hypnotic, seductive and made him think of things he really shouldn’t. Like that time he cornered her in the kitchen and buried his face between her—
“All right, Kevin.” She faced him. “What was so important that you insisted I meet you down here?”
Kevin pushed his hoodie off of his head and readjusted himself on the banister to keep hidden his semi-hard on, until he could get under control. But, damn if she didn’t look good.
“Hiya doin’, Sia?”
“Fine, once you tell me what I’m doing down here.” She was annoyed, not that she didn’t have a right to be.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you couldn’t do that over the phone because...?”
“Okay,” he tried again, “so I wanted to see you.”
Their relationship had never been about what other relationships had been about. They had gone to the same high school; were lab partners in chemistry. She’d saved his ass more than a few times since he never had enough of an interest in science to know what the hell was going on.
Mostly though, the girl knew how to gamble. Her luck, or instinct, as she called it, was unerring. For every bet he’d been wrong about, she’d been right on. It was like they were two sides of the same coin. Then again she was smart enough not to gamble. Risky ambition that it was.
But that was in the controlled environment of school, in science class, and whatever other classes they may have had together; a safe, controlled, environment.
Not on the outside, where things were different. Where people were quick to harp on them being different.
“To see me?” she shook her head with a humorless laugh. “I must have stupid tattooed across my forehead, if you want me to believe that one.”
She started to walk away but he grabbed the arm.
“C’mon Sia. Don’t do this.”
She yanked herself free and faced him.
“Don't tell me what not to do! You call me and brow beat me into meeting you on one of the most desolate streets in the city, just to see me?! I'm not playing this game with y—"
“You know I’m not into games.” Kevin spoke over her. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “If there was anything, you know that.” Sia averted her eyes and breathed a sigh of reluctance. He sighed too. This was not how he wanted this to go.
“Just please, aright?” he tried again. “Don’t leave.” She didn’t move to leave immediately but Kevin could see she still toyed with the idea. “Ten minutes, okay? Just give me ten minutes then you're free to go.”
Okay, so maybe their relationship was like other relationships: He liked her, she liked him, and the first time he kissed her had been during his 11th grade year in the 3rd floor stairwell. He didn’t know what he was doing then, just like he didn’t know what he was doing now.
Sia looked at her watch to mark the time and squared her shoulders in acceptance. “Fine. Ten Minutes.”
She could really be a hard ass. Normally, he’d tell her to shove that shit but he was already on borrowed time, in more ways than one.
“So,” Kevin walked himself back towards the banister and sat down again. Sia moved with him but continued to stand facing him. “How ya been?”
“Good.” She put hands in the pocket of her cropped mesh motorcycle jacket. Her locks had grown longer since he’d last seen. Or at least it seemed that way. They were curly now too. Like a bunch of swiggly lines all drawn together.
“How’s ya mom?”
“She still hates you.”
He’d walked right into that one. Her mother didn’t care for him, much in the same way his family didn’t care for her.
“Yeah well,” he shrugged his shoulders, “the Donnelly Charm only works on certain Gregory women.”
She pursed her lips together to keep the hint of a real smile at bay. “Sweetie, you wouldn’t know charm, if it came and slapped you in the face.”
“Speaking of, how’s Marcus?”
It was true, he didn’t like any guy that hung around her too much or too closely. He was man enough to admit that, but that Marcus-guy…the visual of them together made Kevin see red.
“Still breathing, I last heard. He didn’t come back around after you handed his ass to him. ”
Kevin smiled at the memory of the pulp faced bastard. He even took pride in it. When he’d seen the damage that asshole did to Sia’s face and body, the relative cool he possessed flew out the window. The beating he put on him, made the one he and his brother’s handed to those drug dealers by the old flats look like child’s play.
Sia still carried a faint scare across the right side of her neck. His eyes were drawn to it and Kevin felt himself getting angry all over again. He really shoulda killed that guy.
“And Ian? How’s he?”
The somewhat jovial mood deteriorated. The faint of a smile she’d worn seconds ago, suddenly fell flat.
“Let’s not do this, Kevin. I’m not in the mood for this conversation or where it leads.”
“Just humor me, okay?” he pleaded. “I wanna know.”
She rubbed her hand over her face hesitantly. He could see her debating whether or not to answer his question. Arguments always ensued when they did. It was the price they paid for having a kid he could never publicly acknowledge.
“With all your talk about family, you know you could never bring home a brown skinned baby. Or even worse his darker skinned mother. There is no way in hell I’m gonna give my son that kind of complex.”
He hated that’d she’d been right. His family meant everything to him. He’d ended lives for the sake of his family. It was always ‘Family Above All.” But…they wouldn’t see Ian as one of them, as their family, all because he had the wrong skin color.
It was why he gambled so much. If he couldn’t acknowledge Ian as his, he at least wanted to give Sia money to help out. But he couldn’t even do that right.
“He’s good. Ten months and all. He's even trying to walk.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She answered with fondness she always did when she talked about their son.
It hurt he wasn’t around as much as he wanted to be. It hurt because in an ideal world he’d be there to put his son to sleep at night and wake up with him, with them, in the morning. But choices had been made and in the end it all worked out. At least as much as the present situation could be considered worked out. Besides, Sia never kept his son from him, or worse, used him as a tool against him like he’d seen happen to more than a few guys in the neighborhood. Whenever he called or just dropped by, Ian was always available to him.
“That’s good.” Sia never knew how precious those moments were to him. It was in those moments that he had everything he wanted. “Where is he now?”
“I dropped him off at my mother’s.”
That was another reason her mother didn’t like him. Well, that, the fact he’s white and she thought him to be the worst kind of hooligan. In the eyes of Diana Gregory, her daughter was too good for him. And him getting her pregnant ruined Sia’s life.
“Right.” He nodded. “See? No argument.” He held up his hand in surrender, lightening the mood.
“I see.” The sound of car approaching caught their attention and they both turned to take a look when her hair caught his attention again. It had grown even more than he’d originally thought. She usually wore it in some kind of ponytail, but seeing it down, it hung between her shoulders.
Giving into his temptation, he tugged on one to get back her attention. The feel of it against his skin felt like his favorite sweater.
“C’mere,” he grabbed the edge of her jacket pocket and pulled her toward him.
She didn’t move. “It’s getting cold, Kevin. And, “ she brought her wrist up to see her watch. “You have four minutes left.”
“C’mere,” he pulled her again. This time she went to him. His hand slid around her waist and to his surprise, she didn’t fight him. They were close enough that he could breathe in her sent. The one that smelled warm and enticing at the same time.
His green eyes bore into her brown ones before they fixated on her lips. He didn’t give into the impulse to kiss her. He wasn’t sure she’d let him, but he did have something to say. Pulling back a bit, he looked in her eyes again.
“I know I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for a while. I’ve had a lot goin’ on. But, um, I want you to know that you matter to me. You and Ian are important to me. ”
He’d never been that guy to say those three words. That had been one of their many problems. But since staring a painful death in the face, he was going to.
“I love you, Sia. That’s what I wanted to say to you. Face to face.”
She stared at him, shocked, as he moved closer to her. Slowly, his hand slid around her waist, under her jacket and shirt. Her breath caught when he gently kissed her cheek.
When he pulled back, she still looked confused. “Kevin—”
“Don’t worry.” He laughed her unasked question. “The world’s not ending. I just thought it’s time for me to say it.” He stood up off the banister and put his hand in his pocket. “I’m pretty sure my ten minutes are up now.”
He walked towards the busier street of Eleventh Avenue and whistled for a cab. When he turned back around, Sia was catching up. He held the cab door open for her and waited. She looked at him cautiously, still clearly confused.
“Get in.” She did and he closed the door. “70th Street and West End Avenue.” He told the cab driver.
Kevin watched the cab pull off, his chest constricting the farther it got away. He’d done the right thing though. Sia’s speechlessness told him that much.
He’d never love another.
For now, she was safe, as was their son. When this bullshit with Cottero was all said in done, there would still be a Donnelly out there.
And he’d brought a whole new meaning to the term, Black Irish.
I am a writer. Been writing since grade school. Hopefully, it can take me somewhere. In any event, this is a one-shot I wrote about a show that is no longer on the air (due to the gayness that is NBC), The Black Donnelly's. It came about from a monthly challenge that was posed on one of the forums I am apart of. Fanfiction has never really been my forte but the challenge was to write something you've never written before so this was my attempt.
The Black Donnellys, about an Black Irish family in the area known as Hell's Kitchen, in New York.
If you've never seen the show and want to get a better grasp of what is going on in the story, you can catch the pilot episode on Youtube. This clip takes place right after episode 8: In Each One A Savior.
This fabulous banner is the work of TokenBlackGirl. Thank you so much for lending your extraordinary talents to my story!
As far as disclaimers go, I don't own The Black Donnelly's, but this particular storyline as well as Sia Gregory definitely belong to me :)
It was 'Family Above All' until she came along...
2007
Kevin sat back against the building’s railing, waiting. It was dark and desolate on the corner of 14th street and 10th Avenue. His hands in his pockets, he took in his surroundings: The highway, the bridge, gas station across the street. Everything seemed crisper, clearer. Having a death warrant over your head could do that.
As much as he liked to consider himself lucky, he wasn’t. It was his ‘luck’ that landed him in his grave. A winning bet placed on the phone of a murdered bookie, was how he landed himself in this hole. He should have listened to his older brother, Jimmy, and gotten rid of the phone when they dumped the body. He didn’t. The idea of having a bookie’s phone seemed too good to pass up. And that’s how Cottero figured out he was involved with Louie Downtown’s murder. He was the mysterious ‘Cloudy’ that owed him a g-note. But instead of getting paid, he got found out.
His day had officially ended in the shitter.
He looked at his watch again. It was almost eleven. He was tempted to pull out his phone and call again when he spotted her walking towards him. He’d never seen a walk like hers before. It was kind of hypnotic, seductive and made him think of things he really shouldn’t. Like that time he cornered her in the kitchen and buried his face between her—
“All right, Kevin.” She faced him. “What was so important that you insisted I meet you down here?”
Kevin pushed his hoodie off of his head and readjusted himself on the banister to keep hidden his semi-hard on, until he could get under control. But, damn if she didn’t look good.
“Hiya doin’, Sia?”
“Fine, once you tell me what I’m doing down here.” She was annoyed, not that she didn’t have a right to be.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“And you couldn’t do that over the phone because...?”
“Okay,” he tried again, “so I wanted to see you.”
Their relationship had never been about what other relationships had been about. They had gone to the same high school; were lab partners in chemistry. She’d saved his ass more than a few times since he never had enough of an interest in science to know what the hell was going on.
Mostly though, the girl knew how to gamble. Her luck, or instinct, as she called it, was unerring. For every bet he’d been wrong about, she’d been right on. It was like they were two sides of the same coin. Then again she was smart enough not to gamble. Risky ambition that it was.
But that was in the controlled environment of school, in science class, and whatever other classes they may have had together; a safe, controlled, environment.
Not on the outside, where things were different. Where people were quick to harp on them being different.
“To see me?” she shook her head with a humorless laugh. “I must have stupid tattooed across my forehead, if you want me to believe that one.”
She started to walk away but he grabbed the arm.
“C’mon Sia. Don’t do this.”
She yanked herself free and faced him.
“Don't tell me what not to do! You call me and brow beat me into meeting you on one of the most desolate streets in the city, just to see me?! I'm not playing this game with y—"
“You know I’m not into games.” Kevin spoke over her. He stepped closer, closing the space between them. “If there was anything, you know that.” Sia averted her eyes and breathed a sigh of reluctance. He sighed too. This was not how he wanted this to go.
“Just please, aright?” he tried again. “Don’t leave.” She didn’t move to leave immediately but Kevin could see she still toyed with the idea. “Ten minutes, okay? Just give me ten minutes then you're free to go.”
Okay, so maybe their relationship was like other relationships: He liked her, she liked him, and the first time he kissed her had been during his 11th grade year in the 3rd floor stairwell. He didn’t know what he was doing then, just like he didn’t know what he was doing now.
Sia looked at her watch to mark the time and squared her shoulders in acceptance. “Fine. Ten Minutes.”
She could really be a hard ass. Normally, he’d tell her to shove that shit but he was already on borrowed time, in more ways than one.
“So,” Kevin walked himself back towards the banister and sat down again. Sia moved with him but continued to stand facing him. “How ya been?”
“Good.” She put hands in the pocket of her cropped mesh motorcycle jacket. Her locks had grown longer since he’d last seen. Or at least it seemed that way. They were curly now too. Like a bunch of swiggly lines all drawn together.
“How’s ya mom?”
“She still hates you.”
He’d walked right into that one. Her mother didn’t care for him, much in the same way his family didn’t care for her.
“Yeah well,” he shrugged his shoulders, “the Donnelly Charm only works on certain Gregory women.”
She pursed her lips together to keep the hint of a real smile at bay. “Sweetie, you wouldn’t know charm, if it came and slapped you in the face.”
“Speaking of, how’s Marcus?”
It was true, he didn’t like any guy that hung around her too much or too closely. He was man enough to admit that, but that Marcus-guy…the visual of them together made Kevin see red.
“Still breathing, I last heard. He didn’t come back around after you handed his ass to him. ”
Kevin smiled at the memory of the pulp faced bastard. He even took pride in it. When he’d seen the damage that asshole did to Sia’s face and body, the relative cool he possessed flew out the window. The beating he put on him, made the one he and his brother’s handed to those drug dealers by the old flats look like child’s play.
Sia still carried a faint scare across the right side of her neck. His eyes were drawn to it and Kevin felt himself getting angry all over again. He really shoulda killed that guy.
“And Ian? How’s he?”
The somewhat jovial mood deteriorated. The faint of a smile she’d worn seconds ago, suddenly fell flat.
“Let’s not do this, Kevin. I’m not in the mood for this conversation or where it leads.”
“Just humor me, okay?” he pleaded. “I wanna know.”
She rubbed her hand over her face hesitantly. He could see her debating whether or not to answer his question. Arguments always ensued when they did. It was the price they paid for having a kid he could never publicly acknowledge.
“With all your talk about family, you know you could never bring home a brown skinned baby. Or even worse his darker skinned mother. There is no way in hell I’m gonna give my son that kind of complex.”
He hated that’d she’d been right. His family meant everything to him. He’d ended lives for the sake of his family. It was always ‘Family Above All.” But…they wouldn’t see Ian as one of them, as their family, all because he had the wrong skin color.
It was why he gambled so much. If he couldn’t acknowledge Ian as his, he at least wanted to give Sia money to help out. But he couldn’t even do that right.
“He’s good. Ten months and all. He's even trying to walk.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She answered with fondness she always did when she talked about their son.
It hurt he wasn’t around as much as he wanted to be. It hurt because in an ideal world he’d be there to put his son to sleep at night and wake up with him, with them, in the morning. But choices had been made and in the end it all worked out. At least as much as the present situation could be considered worked out. Besides, Sia never kept his son from him, or worse, used him as a tool against him like he’d seen happen to more than a few guys in the neighborhood. Whenever he called or just dropped by, Ian was always available to him.
“That’s good.” Sia never knew how precious those moments were to him. It was in those moments that he had everything he wanted. “Where is he now?”
“I dropped him off at my mother’s.”
That was another reason her mother didn’t like him. Well, that, the fact he’s white and she thought him to be the worst kind of hooligan. In the eyes of Diana Gregory, her daughter was too good for him. And him getting her pregnant ruined Sia’s life.
“Right.” He nodded. “See? No argument.” He held up his hand in surrender, lightening the mood.
“I see.” The sound of car approaching caught their attention and they both turned to take a look when her hair caught his attention again. It had grown even more than he’d originally thought. She usually wore it in some kind of ponytail, but seeing it down, it hung between her shoulders.
Giving into his temptation, he tugged on one to get back her attention. The feel of it against his skin felt like his favorite sweater.
“C’mere,” he grabbed the edge of her jacket pocket and pulled her toward him.
She didn’t move. “It’s getting cold, Kevin. And, “ she brought her wrist up to see her watch. “You have four minutes left.”
“C’mere,” he pulled her again. This time she went to him. His hand slid around her waist and to his surprise, she didn’t fight him. They were close enough that he could breathe in her sent. The one that smelled warm and enticing at the same time.
His green eyes bore into her brown ones before they fixated on her lips. He didn’t give into the impulse to kiss her. He wasn’t sure she’d let him, but he did have something to say. Pulling back a bit, he looked in her eyes again.
“I know I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for a while. I’ve had a lot goin’ on. But, um, I want you to know that you matter to me. You and Ian are important to me. ”
He’d never been that guy to say those three words. That had been one of their many problems. But since staring a painful death in the face, he was going to.
“I love you, Sia. That’s what I wanted to say to you. Face to face.”
She stared at him, shocked, as he moved closer to her. Slowly, his hand slid around her waist, under her jacket and shirt. Her breath caught when he gently kissed her cheek.
When he pulled back, she still looked confused. “Kevin—”
“Don’t worry.” He laughed her unasked question. “The world’s not ending. I just thought it’s time for me to say it.” He stood up off the banister and put his hand in his pocket. “I’m pretty sure my ten minutes are up now.”
He walked towards the busier street of Eleventh Avenue and whistled for a cab. When he turned back around, Sia was catching up. He held the cab door open for her and waited. She looked at him cautiously, still clearly confused.
“Get in.” She did and he closed the door. “70th Street and West End Avenue.” He told the cab driver.
Kevin watched the cab pull off, his chest constricting the farther it got away. He’d done the right thing though. Sia’s speechlessness told him that much.
He’d never love another.
For now, she was safe, as was their son. When this bullshit with Cottero was all said in done, there would still be a Donnelly out there.
And he’d brought a whole new meaning to the term, Black Irish.
Elevator Talk (A New Blog)
A good friend of mine (who also happens to be one of the smartest people of my generation - an please know I don't give that compliment out lightly!) has started her blog within the last few weeks. It's called Elevator Talk. It's all about reaching maximizing your potential and reaching the next level (like an elevator) in both a personal and professional atmosphere!
From personal reflection to commentary on the goings on in the world, this blog has it.
Check it out. You won't be disappointed!
From personal reflection to commentary on the goings on in the world, this blog has it.
Check it out. You won't be disappointed!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Happy Easter!
Happy Easter everyone!
While over the years I have outgrown the easter bunny and easter egg hunts, I'd like to remind that it is on this holiday that I celebrate the resurrection of my lord and savior Jesus Christ. It is through HIM that I have salvation and know that I will see my father, grandmother and all those who went before me.
It is through HIS BLOOD that my sins have been wiped clean! That I am made whole! That I have eternal life with him!
Have a Blessed and Prosperous Resurrection Sunday!
While over the years I have outgrown the easter bunny and easter egg hunts, I'd like to remind that it is on this holiday that I celebrate the resurrection of my lord and savior Jesus Christ. It is through HIM that I have salvation and know that I will see my father, grandmother and all those who went before me.
It is through HIS BLOOD that my sins have been wiped clean! That I am made whole! That I have eternal life with him!
Have a Blessed and Prosperous Resurrection Sunday!
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Can someone PLEASE explain to me why...
First off, hello all! It is great to be back! Now that I am home, I should be able to update this site more frequently. Being an 'at home' mom of two young children, please believe I have something to say...
Anywho, back to title of this post: Can someone please explain to me why children like to lean on that last good nerve? I'm talking about damn near jumping up and down on it, as if they were playing hop-scotch!
Let me start by saying, I love my son. He is my first child. My pride and joy. Feel free to plug any and all of those wonderful adjectives mothers can use to describe a child they love completely, cause please believe I use them for my chunk. However over the last two weeks, he has been steadily cruising to into that danger zone of being LAID OUT.
I don't know, maybe it's his age bracket. I mean he IS only four years old. But for a four year, he seems kinda mouthy. Case and point, just the other day I said, "Chunk, can you come here please?"
And his reply?
"I'm watching TV."
Excuse me?
I thought maybe I heard wrong because, hey has happened before, so I said again: "Can you come here please?"
And his reply again was, "I'm watching TV."
We won't get into the fact that his reply was tinged with annoyance. As if I hadn't heard him correctly the first go 'round. I choose not to go there at this moment in time.
The point is, if I call, you come. Period. Not next week, tomorrow or the day after, but right now. Why? Because I am his mother.
At this point, I have added some bass to my voice. Y'all know what I'm talking about, right? The bass that clearly says, 'if your behind doesn't appear before me RIGHT NOW, I can promise you won't like the consequences', and that problem was resolved.
Back to the story at hand...
While my son is in pre-k, he does get homework. Nothing crazy (although I don't think I was given addition at four years old, but I digress), and not every night, but a cumulative effort of what had been in class during the week.
This week's homework consisted of several addition problems, my son writing 5 words that begin with 'E' and him drawing a picture of one of the books I've read to him at night.
Easy right?
Wrong!
It took 45 minutes to do 4 math problems...
Let me give you the breakdown:
The first two equations we breezed through: 10 + 3 and 6 + 7.
Like a pro, my son breezed through these problems counting the accompanying dots with each number to arrive at the desired answer, 13.
The first road block arrived in the form of my son writing the number '3' in 13 backwards. No problem, with minimal guidance, he writes the number correctly for the first equation and when we get to the second equation, there is no problem to correct. He writes the number 13 PERFECTLY!
When we get to the third equation (11 + 4), that the problems start to arise. Now for those who don't know, my son and numbers have been bossom buddies since he was about two. He was counting to 10 at the age of 2.
TWO!
Yet sudden yesterday, after counting to 13 without a hitch, when we reach this problem, suddenly my son can't count past the the number 7.
No, I am NOT kidding.
We are counting the matching dots in the equation and he completely and totally DUMBS OUT.
"Zahir, what number comes after 7?"
"Uhh...I don't know."
"C'mon Zahir, you just did this. You can do this. What number comes after 7?"
"10."
"Yes, 10, does come after 7 but what number comes directly after 7."
"4."
"No Zahir, 4 does not come after 7."
"Yes it does."
"No, it doesn't, Zahir."
"Yes it does!"
It does? Really? 4 comes after 7? It does? Really? Really?
How in the world did we go from counting to 13 FLAWLESSLY to not knowing EIGHT comes after SEVEN?
How is that possible?
It took TEN MINUTES of counting from 1 to 10, then 15, then 20 AND using the number chart we have to get the debacle straightened out.
TEN MINUTES! I was ready to pull my hair out. I tried to remain calm, I tried to remain cool, but it really seemed like my son was f*cking with me and I was NOT in the mood.
What happens then? All of a sudden, my son can't count in order without looking at the number chart.
Really?!
We move on to the next equation (13 + 0) and we come to the same road block, only this time he can't seem to get past the number 9.
At this point, he is in tears because my calm reserved voice has taken on an abbrasive tone. What can I say? When your child sudden 'regresses' before your eyes without explanation, you'd feel some type of way too. Especially when you KNOW and HAVE SEEN them do better.
Then I get hit with the "but I don't want to do this. I'm tired, Mommy."
Really?
How could he be tired when he cheerfully was watching TV a half hour ago. How could he be tired when it wasn't even 8PM. He showed no signs of this tiredness when he was sitting down watching 'Yo Gabba Gabba', 'Olivia' and 'Backyardigans' (Them I LOVE!).
No, he wasn't tired, he just didn't want to do his HW anymore. How do I know? We've played this game before.
And then we get the backwards 3 mess again.
So what happens next? I get the belt.
I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of placating. I'm tired of playing games. And I this point I know he is playing games.
I don't know who said it wasn't appropriate, but I am a firm believer of Proverbs 13:24, 23:13-14. Basically, spare the rod, spoil the child. Some parents agree with it, others don't. To each his/her own.
I know how I was raised and how I will raise my children.
And do you know what happend when I got the belt and sat down with it while he did his HW? All of sudden, my son could count correctly again. Eight came after seven. Ten comes after nine and the number chart is no longer needed. And my son can write the number 13 correctly.
Go figure.
Did I use the belt? No. But the threat was there.
Now my question is, why did I have to go through all of that? Why did my son deem it appropriate to take me to that place called 'LIVE' in which I had to threaten him with a few licks?
I mean really? Was all of that necessary?
Can someone please explain it to me because I would love to know...
Anywho, back to title of this post: Can someone please explain to me why children like to lean on that last good nerve? I'm talking about damn near jumping up and down on it, as if they were playing hop-scotch!
Let me start by saying, I love my son. He is my first child. My pride and joy. Feel free to plug any and all of those wonderful adjectives mothers can use to describe a child they love completely, cause please believe I use them for my chunk. However over the last two weeks, he has been steadily cruising to into that danger zone of being LAID OUT.
I don't know, maybe it's his age bracket. I mean he IS only four years old. But for a four year, he seems kinda mouthy. Case and point, just the other day I said, "Chunk, can you come here please?"
And his reply?
"I'm watching TV."
Excuse me?
I thought maybe I heard wrong because, hey has happened before, so I said again: "Can you come here please?"
And his reply again was, "I'm watching TV."
We won't get into the fact that his reply was tinged with annoyance. As if I hadn't heard him correctly the first go 'round. I choose not to go there at this moment in time.
The point is, if I call, you come. Period. Not next week, tomorrow or the day after, but right now. Why? Because I am his mother.
At this point, I have added some bass to my voice. Y'all know what I'm talking about, right? The bass that clearly says, 'if your behind doesn't appear before me RIGHT NOW, I can promise you won't like the consequences', and that problem was resolved.
Back to the story at hand...
While my son is in pre-k, he does get homework. Nothing crazy (although I don't think I was given addition at four years old, but I digress), and not every night, but a cumulative effort of what had been in class during the week.
This week's homework consisted of several addition problems, my son writing 5 words that begin with 'E' and him drawing a picture of one of the books I've read to him at night.
Easy right?
Wrong!
It took 45 minutes to do 4 math problems...
Let me give you the breakdown:
The first two equations we breezed through: 10 + 3 and 6 + 7.
Like a pro, my son breezed through these problems counting the accompanying dots with each number to arrive at the desired answer, 13.
The first road block arrived in the form of my son writing the number '3' in 13 backwards. No problem, with minimal guidance, he writes the number correctly for the first equation and when we get to the second equation, there is no problem to correct. He writes the number 13 PERFECTLY!
When we get to the third equation (11 + 4), that the problems start to arise. Now for those who don't know, my son and numbers have been bossom buddies since he was about two. He was counting to 10 at the age of 2.
TWO!
Yet sudden yesterday, after counting to 13 without a hitch, when we reach this problem, suddenly my son can't count past the the number 7.
No, I am NOT kidding.
We are counting the matching dots in the equation and he completely and totally DUMBS OUT.
"Zahir, what number comes after 7?"
"Uhh...I don't know."
"C'mon Zahir, you just did this. You can do this. What number comes after 7?"
"10."
"Yes, 10, does come after 7 but what number comes directly after 7."
"4."
"No Zahir, 4 does not come after 7."
"Yes it does."
"No, it doesn't, Zahir."
"Yes it does!"
It does? Really? 4 comes after 7? It does? Really? Really?
How in the world did we go from counting to 13 FLAWLESSLY to not knowing EIGHT comes after SEVEN?
How is that possible?
It took TEN MINUTES of counting from 1 to 10, then 15, then 20 AND using the number chart we have to get the debacle straightened out.
TEN MINUTES! I was ready to pull my hair out. I tried to remain calm, I tried to remain cool, but it really seemed like my son was f*cking with me and I was NOT in the mood.
What happens then? All of a sudden, my son can't count in order without looking at the number chart.
Really?!
We move on to the next equation (13 + 0) and we come to the same road block, only this time he can't seem to get past the number 9.
At this point, he is in tears because my calm reserved voice has taken on an abbrasive tone. What can I say? When your child sudden 'regresses' before your eyes without explanation, you'd feel some type of way too. Especially when you KNOW and HAVE SEEN them do better.
Then I get hit with the "but I don't want to do this. I'm tired, Mommy."
Really?
How could he be tired when he cheerfully was watching TV a half hour ago. How could he be tired when it wasn't even 8PM. He showed no signs of this tiredness when he was sitting down watching 'Yo Gabba Gabba', 'Olivia' and 'Backyardigans' (Them I LOVE!).
No, he wasn't tired, he just didn't want to do his HW anymore. How do I know? We've played this game before.
And then we get the backwards 3 mess again.
So what happens next? I get the belt.
I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of placating. I'm tired of playing games. And I this point I know he is playing games.
I don't know who said it wasn't appropriate, but I am a firm believer of Proverbs 13:24, 23:13-14. Basically, spare the rod, spoil the child. Some parents agree with it, others don't. To each his/her own.
I know how I was raised and how I will raise my children.
And do you know what happend when I got the belt and sat down with it while he did his HW? All of sudden, my son could count correctly again. Eight came after seven. Ten comes after nine and the number chart is no longer needed. And my son can write the number 13 correctly.
Go figure.
Did I use the belt? No. But the threat was there.
Now my question is, why did I have to go through all of that? Why did my son deem it appropriate to take me to that place called 'LIVE' in which I had to threaten him with a few licks?
I mean really? Was all of that necessary?
Can someone please explain it to me because I would love to know...
Monday, August 24, 2009
Micheal Jackson's Death Ruled as a Homocide...
It's official.
MJ was killed.
Like we didn't know this already.
The King of Pop dies, heads were bound to roll.
I feel for Conrad Murray. B/c from the looks of things he's going to be doing some serious time and I can only imagine what is going to happen to him in the big house. MJ touched too many ppl. Hell, you had facilities in the Phillipians doing the Thriller dance!
As unfortunate as this is, I'm not surprised. I wish Mr. Murray (and his butt) the best of luck...
MJ was killed.
Like we didn't know this already.
The King of Pop dies, heads were bound to roll.
I feel for Conrad Murray. B/c from the looks of things he's going to be doing some serious time and I can only imagine what is going to happen to him in the big house. MJ touched too many ppl. Hell, you had facilities in the Phillipians doing the Thriller dance!
As unfortunate as this is, I'm not surprised. I wish Mr. Murray (and his butt) the best of luck...
Friday, August 21, 2009
It's been a while...
It's been a minute. Yes, I know. But what can I say? Life has a habit of taking over, ya know? Anywho, it is good to be back!
Especially with this ridiculous heat going on. Jezus LAWD!!! Can someone please turn the thermostat down?
Anywho, have a blessed day!
Especially with this ridiculous heat going on. Jezus LAWD!!! Can someone please turn the thermostat down?
Anywho, have a blessed day!
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Labor Day Parade '07
Okay, so this is a random note but I felt the need to include this picture of the two most important men in my life. Aren't they the cutest?!
Back to the the topic at hand...
BIG UPS TO BROOKLYN!!!
This year was the first time that I had ever gone to the Labor Day Parade on Eastern Parkway. With my husband and son reppin' my honey's native land of Jamaica and me reppin' the US Virgin Islands (Shout out to the Woodlyns from St. Thomas!) I must say, it was the experience of a lifetime!
The ten block walk from our house to Eastern Parkway was filled with vibrant colors of Carribean flags being worn proud by their respective nationalities; the smells of jerk chicken and roasted corn filled the air as homegrown vendors setup make shift kiosks to sell their goods. While I didn't partake of the cooked goods, I did manage to come across (and immediately purchased) raw sugar cane! Can I tell you had good that was?!
Anywho, once we got to The Parkway, trucks and dancers made celebrated their country through dance and song in what could be called the largest block party ever. Although police tried to keep security tight, many bystanders somehow joined the parade's participants and marched proudly waving their country's flag.
All in all, I loved it! And here are a few pics of my first Labor/Eastern Parkway experience...
Zahir taking in the sites on his dad's shoulders!
These stilt walkers were FIYAH!! They up'ed the crowds hype level...Especially when a few of them started winein'(sp?)
Friday, August 10, 2007
R.I.P Grandma
Today marks the two year anniversary of my grandmother, Charlotte May Thacker, passing away.
I am handling it a lot better this year than I did last year. This time last year I was a walking disaster. I broke down in the middle of work, my co-workers looking at me as if I were crazy. I missed her so much!
I still do, but with all that she has imparted into me, she is never far away. My only regret is that she hadn't met her first great grandson. I think they would have thoroughly enjoyed one another.
To a phenomenal woman, phenomenally! I love you Grandma! You are loved and sorely missed!
I am handling it a lot better this year than I did last year. This time last year I was a walking disaster. I broke down in the middle of work, my co-workers looking at me as if I were crazy. I missed her so much!
I still do, but with all that she has imparted into me, she is never far away. My only regret is that she hadn't met her first great grandson. I think they would have thoroughly enjoyed one another.
To a phenomenal woman, phenomenally! I love you Grandma! You are loved and sorely missed!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Randomness
My mind is filled with randomness this morning (possibly due to the headache I've had since I dropped my son off at the sitters, that hasn't gone away yet) so forgive me if this post is all over the place...
1. I watched SYTYCD last night...it was horrible! I was so upset that I wasted precious DVR space for that. Literally autrocious! My pooh Danny didn't have the best night. He was partnered with Sara and the difference of him having beautiful technique and her not having any was blaringly obvious. The first number they did was an Argentine Tango, it looked like dance by numbers. Very, very...blah. I wasn't a fan.
Then they had a Shane Sparks Hip Hop routine. I should've run for the hills when they said Shane and Danny would be in the same room. I'm kinda glad that it was addressed that Shane didn't care for Danny. The whole change of heart thing, Shane saying that he is glad that he will be able to say that he had the opporutnity to work with a dancer such as Danny, seemed kind of phony, but whatever.
Long story short, this number was hideous! Danny is known for his fluidity on the floor. Shane's percussive movements weren't flattering. The antagonist she devil in me could probably go far enough and say that Shane was out to sabatoge my boy. If anyone noticed, he wasn't too broken up about his choreography getting trashy reviews (now with Hok and Jaimie, that was another story...) But that is the antagonistic she devil in me, not the regular, loving me.
Anyway, the piece was a disaster. The connection between Danny and Sara just wasn't there, the movements were poorly executed, overall it sucked...BIG TIME!! My favorite thing about the entire thing was when Judge Adam Shankman said there customes looked like they had been Punk'd by wardrobe! I. WAS. ROLLING.
I just hope my pooh can survive another week. If not, I won't be too broken up about it. He made it to the top ten and I will see him on tour! Please believe it!
2. If you are in need of a laugh...
This was a Smirnoff Iced Commercial. Instead of G-Unit, they are the Prep Unit and they are serious about New England. Check it out...
3. To the Ladies of TST...
I haven't forgetten about you. I am writing and trying to get a "Wounded" update to you guys as soon as possible. I want it to be just right, ya know....
That's it for this morning. I have procrastinated long enough, it is time for me to work and row with the other slaves.
CiaO!
1. I watched SYTYCD last night...it was horrible! I was so upset that I wasted precious DVR space for that. Literally autrocious! My pooh Danny didn't have the best night. He was partnered with Sara and the difference of him having beautiful technique and her not having any was blaringly obvious. The first number they did was an Argentine Tango, it looked like dance by numbers. Very, very...blah. I wasn't a fan.
Then they had a Shane Sparks Hip Hop routine. I should've run for the hills when they said Shane and Danny would be in the same room. I'm kinda glad that it was addressed that Shane didn't care for Danny. The whole change of heart thing, Shane saying that he is glad that he will be able to say that he had the opporutnity to work with a dancer such as Danny, seemed kind of phony, but whatever.
Long story short, this number was hideous! Danny is known for his fluidity on the floor. Shane's percussive movements weren't flattering. The antagonist she devil in me could probably go far enough and say that Shane was out to sabatoge my boy. If anyone noticed, he wasn't too broken up about his choreography getting trashy reviews (now with Hok and Jaimie, that was another story...) But that is the antagonistic she devil in me, not the regular, loving me.
Anyway, the piece was a disaster. The connection between Danny and Sara just wasn't there, the movements were poorly executed, overall it sucked...BIG TIME!! My favorite thing about the entire thing was when Judge Adam Shankman said there customes looked like they had been Punk'd by wardrobe! I. WAS. ROLLING.
I just hope my pooh can survive another week. If not, I won't be too broken up about it. He made it to the top ten and I will see him on tour! Please believe it!
2. If you are in need of a laugh...
This was a Smirnoff Iced Commercial. Instead of G-Unit, they are the Prep Unit and they are serious about New England. Check it out...
3. To the Ladies of TST...
I haven't forgetten about you. I am writing and trying to get a "Wounded" update to you guys as soon as possible. I want it to be just right, ya know....
That's it for this morning. I have procrastinated long enough, it is time for me to work and row with the other slaves.
CiaO!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
SYTYCD!!
For those who don't know I am a true fan of the FOX television show 'So You Think You Can Dance'. For the summer months, every Wednesday at 8pm and Thursday at 9pm, my DVR is programmed to record this dance phenomenon(I don't do commercials too well, so recording the show allows me to watch it later with the wonderful ability to fast forward through all of those pesky advertisments)
Last Year, Donyelle, was a fave of mine. While she began to annoy me with the pointy fingers thing that she seemed to do in all her solos (especially after she broke her toe), her audition piece was off the chain. Sister-gurl was FIERCE!!!
And to think, she is considered a 'big girl' in the dance world...
Anywho, this year my favorite dancer is Danny Tidwell.
Is it me or does he kinda look like Bruce Leroy from Berry Gordy's The Last Dragon.
(okay, okay, I'll Stop!)
Danny is magnificent, he is majestic, and carries his training and discipline both on and off the dance floor. He's beyond fabulous. What choreographers (like Shane Sparks, who I have lost all love for) deem as arrogance, is just carriage and prescence. Shane has never stepped foot in a dance class, never had any formal training period, so his critique of Danny completely rubbed me the wrong way. I wanted to yell at the screen for homeboy to by a freakin' clue.
Shane is not the only one to throw shade Danny's way either. There many voices that try to defame Danny and all he has worked for in achieving his level of techinical excellence. Then there are those of us, who cheer when Mr. Tidwell moves across the dance floor.
Shane's comment of the judges and choreographers going to regret letting Danny into the top 20 was proven wrong. Six weeks and twelve dancers later, my pooh is still there doing the damn thing! And was given the ultimate compliment by Mia (who was once a nay-sayer) that Danny has the potential to go down in the books of history in dance. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!?!?!
Last week he was showcased in Mia Michael's group piece, danced to Imogen Heap's The Moment I Said It (a.k.a my new favorite song...)
In the end, whether or not Danny wins this competition, I see a very bright future ahead of him in the world of dance!
Rock on Baby Boy! I, and countless others are routing for you!
Last Year, Donyelle, was a fave of mine. While she began to annoy me with the pointy fingers thing that she seemed to do in all her solos (especially after she broke her toe), her audition piece was off the chain. Sister-gurl was FIERCE!!!
And to think, she is considered a 'big girl' in the dance world...
Anywho, this year my favorite dancer is Danny Tidwell.
Is it me or does he kinda look like Bruce Leroy from Berry Gordy's The Last Dragon.
(okay, okay, I'll Stop!)
Danny is magnificent, he is majestic, and carries his training and discipline both on and off the dance floor. He's beyond fabulous. What choreographers (like Shane Sparks, who I have lost all love for) deem as arrogance, is just carriage and prescence. Shane has never stepped foot in a dance class, never had any formal training period, so his critique of Danny completely rubbed me the wrong way. I wanted to yell at the screen for homeboy to by a freakin' clue.
Shane is not the only one to throw shade Danny's way either. There many voices that try to defame Danny and all he has worked for in achieving his level of techinical excellence. Then there are those of us, who cheer when Mr. Tidwell moves across the dance floor.
Shane's comment of the judges and choreographers going to regret letting Danny into the top 20 was proven wrong. Six weeks and twelve dancers later, my pooh is still there doing the damn thing! And was given the ultimate compliment by Mia (who was once a nay-sayer) that Danny has the potential to go down in the books of history in dance. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!?!?!
Last week he was showcased in Mia Michael's group piece, danced to Imogen Heap's The Moment I Said It (a.k.a my new favorite song...)
In the end, whether or not Danny wins this competition, I see a very bright future ahead of him in the world of dance!
Rock on Baby Boy! I, and countless others are routing for you!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Assume the Position 201 with Mr. Wuhl
My man Robert Wuhl aka Arli$$ is back with an HBO special titled Assume the Position 201 w/ Mr. Wuhl. My husband and I stumbled across this as we channel surfed Sunday night. If my history classes were anything like this in college, my attendance record would've been awesome!!! Assume takes a truthful, although satirical, look at American history from past presidential elections to 'accidental' medical discoveries (Viagra) to household icons, Mr. Whul enlightens us Americans to something we already know: As Americans we are survivors and now matter what other curve balls get thrown our way, we'll ge through it!
I would've posted the Youtube clips, but they have been taken down due to some copyright issues. From what I understand, 101 aired a while back, and with them creating a 201, I can only hope that they HBO will keep this good thing going. Either way, HBO will run it again (just because that is what HBO does) so check it out! You won't be disappoined!
I would've posted the Youtube clips, but they have been taken down due to some copyright issues. From what I understand, 101 aired a while back, and with them creating a 201, I can only hope that they HBO will keep this good thing going. Either way, HBO will run it again (just because that is what HBO does) so check it out! You won't be disappoined!
Monday, May 28, 2007
My Memorial Day Weekend
For those who don't know, this year will mark the final year of Coney Island's Astroland Park. After the summer season, the park is being closed down and from the word on the street (a ticket guy at the Pirate Ship ride), is being replaced by a casino/resort...something like Mohegan Sun.
The reason: the previous owners of the property sold it.
My family and I showed our Memorial Day spirit and ventured out to Coney Island yesterday. We had fun! We went on the Scrambler, Pirate Ship, the Bumper Cars (in which this white man had it out for me!), and walked on the boardwalk. My aunt and cousin rode the Cyclone, which can't be torn down since it is a national landmark, but without Astroland, I really don't see the purpose, ya know?. I hadn't been to Coney Island in at least 10 years so yesterday was a real treat.
I will be back out there before the summer is over! It is a shame that the new owners don't realize what I treasure Astroland Park truly is. But like everything in this world, change is the only constant.
To CONEY ISLAND! *cheers* TO ASTROLAND PARK! *cheers*
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Could it be?
What ever happened to 702?
I was on TST board browsing the music section when the question was posed why weren't there any fics about artists other than Justin Timberfake (sorry, I am having a love/hate relationship with him at the moment) and Beyonce (another person I am loving and hating at the same time, but anyway...). So I thought to myself and I said, "Self, why don't you write a music fic?"
Now I know I shouldn't start another damn piece of fiction. As it is, I have 1,2...carry the 4...7, that's right seven stories that are (you guessed it!) unfinished. But the ideas have already started forming in my head to the point where I woke up last night and just had to write. So I did, and I have a tidbit, a beginning of a story between these two music stars, Irish Grinstead of 702 and Benji Madden of Good Charlotte.
I know they are an unlikely couple, I mean seriously, look at them! But with them both being twins and both being in the music biz (well at least Irish was, I can't vouch for sister-girl now, which led to the aformentioned question of whatever happened to 702, but I digress...) I figured, why not?
Maybe no one will read my story, or maybe those who will read it won't like it, and then maybe there will be those who will read and love the fic. I don't know. But their story has begun unfolding in my mind, I figured I'd share it with some and see what they say...
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Beyonce's Upgrade U Video
I really haven't been a Beyonce fan for a few months. I just felt she was doing too much, and then when Jennifer Hudson out shined her in DreamGirls (I'm still going to need someone to explain to me exactly why Beyonce was nominated as Best Lead Actress of anything, but that is another topic for another time), not for nothing, I did think Bey's feelings were hurt and there might have even been some jealousy towards J Hud b/c the spotlight was no longer on her. Then there were the publicized money issues with her dancers, and the rumors of her album, B-Day, coming out ahead of schedule to upstage Letoya Luckett (has anyone seen or heard anything from her lately?)
For me it just to a point where I just wanted Bey to have a seat. Just... sit down somewhere! And to an extent, I still do, but after I saw her new video, Upgrade U, I have to say that I am back on the Bey bandwagon.
This video is hot! So without further ado, here is Beyonce's Upgrade U!
Ya'll thought Jay wasn't in it, huh? She was playing with my emotions on that too! LOL! I guess this will stop some of the wagging tongues that say they are no longer together!
For me it just to a point where I just wanted Bey to have a seat. Just... sit down somewhere! And to an extent, I still do, but after I saw her new video, Upgrade U, I have to say that I am back on the Bey bandwagon.
This video is hot! So without further ado, here is Beyonce's Upgrade U!
Ya'll thought Jay wasn't in it, huh? She was playing with my emotions on that too! LOL! I guess this will stop some of the wagging tongues that say they are no longer together!
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Hello All of Those Who Read My Blog! How are you on this dreary and wet Tuesday? I hope all is well.
Anywho, this is an article that a writing buddy of mine found and posted on TST (The Sweetest Taboo) to be discussed. This is an Asian man's perspective on us African Americans...
I really don't know what disturbs me more: the fact that there are people like Kenneth Eng who actually feel this way or that this is how we are still viewed in 2007. It's upsetting. The article would be laughable if it wasn't so upsetting. To say that it was our fault that we were enslaved for 400 years, that we didn't fight back sooner?
Dude, come on! America and the enslavement of Africans in this country, better known as chattel slavery, never happened anywhere else in the world, or through out history.
It was the Willie Lynch Letters were followed to the T. Africans were separated from their homeland, their language taken from them, their identity stripped away, any resemblence of their homeland was taken from them and then they were kept ignorant.
The brutality of chattel slavery has been unmatched in this world, especially considering the length of time that it had gone on. Should Mr. Eng ever do more than superficial research from reliable sources, he would find out that Black People are some of the most intelligent folk around. Without us he wouldn't know about science to be a science fiction author. Maybe he didn't get that memo.
Or Maybe he didn't get that memo about Madalyn Murray O'Hair, the woman who fought tooth and nail for prayer to be taken out of public schools. If Mr. Eng picked up a newspaper he would know that homegirl was not just killed, but chopped up. You can only go on for so long cursing God's name before he gets pissed. People always want to talk about the loving nature of God and him being merciful, but there is a Wrath of God too. And everything that you do has consequences (in the science world I believe that's known as Newton's Law of Motion *wink*) Look at what happened to Soddom and Gomorrah. I would really like to hear the scientific explanation for people being turned into pillars of salt.
Don't get it confused that you can talk trash about God like that is appropriate. It's not. Believing in him is a choice. I can't knock anybody's hustle should they choose not to believe in Jesus. Beating them over the head with scripture won't do anything except probably make them more resistant. If your swagger is different from mine, I can only respect that. However being disrespectful b/c my swagger is different from yours...That's not wassup. Saul found that out the hard way, being blinded on the road to Damascus. Madalyn Murray O'Hair found that out being chopped to pieces. God won't be mocked.
But I disgress. At the end of the day, Mr. Eng needs a hug. A big one. He is consumed by way too much hate. I wouldn't be surprised if he had ulsers in a few years. Something or someone offended/hurt him or someone he knew and he hasn't let it go.
On behalf of whoever hurt you, I apologize Mr. Eng. I hope you can find it in you to forgive yourself and let go of whatever is holding onto.
...and Ward Connerly had the AUDACITY to say that we have arrived in this country!
Friday, February 09, 2007
Bernadine...
Well first and foremost, I would like to say Happy Black History Month to all my African Americans. Here in this lovely country we do adhere to the 'one drop' rule, which means if you are light, bright, and dag on near white (such as myself) but have a drop of African American blood running through your veins, then you are an African American. (Sorry to bust the bubble of all of those hopefuls living in denial about your ancestry. Whether you can pass for white or not, at the end of the day, you are still one of us.)
But I must say I am not a person who feels Black History should or could be celebrated in just one month. Every month for me and my family is Black History Month. American History is Black History whether or not society wants to acknowledge it. Being in a country for 400 years, its kind of hard not to become ingrained in its fabric, ya know?
Anywho, I had the privilege of watching 'Waiting to Exhale' last night, again...for the millionth time. While it isn't my favorite movie (that spot is securely held by G.I. Jane) but there are parts of the movie that I simply adore. At the top of that list, Bernadine.
"Get yo' SH*T and GET OUT!"
I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WHEN SHE BURNED ALL HER HUSBAND's STUFF! See what happens when you push a black woman to far? Your feelings end up getting hurt. Bad.
Hopefully men of all races will take heed to this should they ever marry a black woman. Every woman, has a bit of Bernadine in them. I know I do. She is named 'Simone' and we don't like for her to come out. Even I get nervous when she makes an appearance b/c Simone is not the most rational individual. It is through much prayer that she doesn't come out often. Thank You Lord!
I found this video on YouTube. It's Bernadine losing her mind to Beyonce's 'Ring the Alarm'. This is hot! So here it is ladies: A tribute to all women who have a bit of Bernadine in them, and what happens when you push us too far.
But I must say I am not a person who feels Black History should or could be celebrated in just one month. Every month for me and my family is Black History Month. American History is Black History whether or not society wants to acknowledge it. Being in a country for 400 years, its kind of hard not to become ingrained in its fabric, ya know?
Anywho, I had the privilege of watching 'Waiting to Exhale' last night, again...for the millionth time. While it isn't my favorite movie (that spot is securely held by G.I. Jane) but there are parts of the movie that I simply adore. At the top of that list, Bernadine.
"Get yo' SH*T and GET OUT!"
I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WHEN SHE BURNED ALL HER HUSBAND's STUFF! See what happens when you push a black woman to far? Your feelings end up getting hurt. Bad.
Hopefully men of all races will take heed to this should they ever marry a black woman. Every woman, has a bit of Bernadine in them. I know I do. She is named 'Simone' and we don't like for her to come out. Even I get nervous when she makes an appearance b/c Simone is not the most rational individual. It is through much prayer that she doesn't come out often. Thank You Lord!
I found this video on YouTube. It's Bernadine losing her mind to Beyonce's 'Ring the Alarm'. This is hot! So here it is ladies: A tribute to all women who have a bit of Bernadine in them, and what happens when you push us too far.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
The Evolution of Robin Thicke
I have known about Robin Thicke since his debut single When I Get You Alone in 2002. After not really hearing him in the main stream, I kind of forgot about him...until recently. My husband (thank you baby!) told me about the new Thicke video 'Lost w/o U' featuring his wife (yes, he's married and has been with her for 12 years) Paula Patton (her resume includes the movies Idlewild and Deja Vu with Denzel Washington. Apparently Robin has a bit of a brown sugar craving, if you know what I mean ;)) I looked the video up on YouTube, and once I saw it, I was hooked! I bought his new album, The Evolution of Robin Thicke, the very next day and I have to tell you, this joint is off the chain! From beginning to end, I listened to every song and didn't feel compelled to forward on to the next track. How many CD's can we say that about? It's soulful, it's sexy, it's incredible! I loved it!
Lost w/o U is one of my favorite tracks, but so is All Night Long, Ask Myself, I Need Love, Shooter , Got 2 Be Down and (Lawd forgive the man for naming this track this) Cocaine. But so are track Complicated, Everything I Can't Have, Wanna Love You Girl, and Can You Believe. Dammit, the whole album is hot! All 16 tracks! So, if you are a major R&B buff like I am, I go buy it the album! You won't be disappointed!
Here is the Lost Without U video
P.S. Here is another bit of randomness for the week... I'm a normal girl
You Are a Normal Girl |
 You are 40% Good and 60% Bad Sure you've pulled some bad girl stunts in your past. But these days, you're (mostly) a good girl. |
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Back to 'Stomp The Yard'
| Your Aura is Violet |
Idealistic and thoughtful, you have the mind and ideas to change the world. And you have the charisma of a great leader, even if you don't always use it! The purpose of your life: saying truths that other people dare not say Famous purples include: Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony Careers for you to try: Political Activist, Inventor, Life Coach |
That was a bit of randomness for you this morning. I was on the site On The Other Side, and someone posted the link to check it out. As you can see, I am Violet. What exactly does that mean? I have no clue, but considering purple is my favorite color, that can only be a good thing, right?
Well, last night, my cousin saw Stomp the Yard, and she agreed with me that the movie was actually pretty good; not as hookey as one would've expected.
But the real story of interest took place after the movie when she and her husband, David, went to the restroom. Apparently, a group of Caucasians who had just seen the movie felt the need to comment on it. And again this is heresay, but her statement went something like this:
I don't think that that is how real stepping is. Isn't it Irish anyway?
I know! I know! She came all types of incorrect out of her face! Irish? C'mon dude, pick up a history book, or better yet turn on a PBS Special. It seems that we are going to have to have a little history lesson:
Stepping originated in Africa. It was called the Boot Dance, and was done by miners in South Africa. The reason it is called the Boot Dance is because the miners all wore Wellington Gum Boots while working. The Boot Dance also served as a venue of entertainment and competition between the miners to keep their spirits up through long and back-breaking days below ground. It then became a mode of communication between the miners while in the mines.
Here is a link that provides you with a little more information and below is a YouTube clip of The Boot dance done by South African Children.
That looks like stepping to me, but hey I do where glasses.
As someone who has studied dance for years (and years, and years) I have actually done a boot dance or two in my life. Before any of the dances were taught we were got a history lesson on the significance of the dance. In Stomp the Yard, when they were stepping, they made it a point to actually show you the boots that they were stepping in. No, it was the Wellington Gum Boot, but it was the evolution of what the step boot has become here in America.
Nowhere, no way, did the Irish orginate stepping. Sorry boo! Nice try, though. Better luck next time.
Furthermore, why were there a group of white people going to see Stomp the Yard anyway? Expecially if you don't know the history behind black sororites, fraternities, and what the act of stepping actually means? The target audience of the movie was the Black Community. It seems the movies purpose was completely lost on them. What a waste.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
My Fantasy is Over...
I know it' s random that I post twice in one day, but I have to get this off of my chest.
Yesterday I saw the movie, Stomp the Yard, starring actor Columbus Short. (Isn't he so dreamy?) Anywho, I told my husband that I went to see the movie, and after idle chit-chat and comparing the movie to Drumline as well as other Black, teen, coming of age movies, my husband dropped a bomb on me. My dreamboat was a dog. Apparently Mr. Short used to be hot and heavy with Britney Spears. Yes, that same exact Britney who looks like she needs to get a rabies shot and take a shower with a bottle of bleach after marrying and having sex with K-Fed. (Is it me, or does he looks like he smells?) What makes the situation go from sad to absolutely tragic is that he was married at the time and his wife was pregnant with their first child. In an article I found online Columbus is quoted as saying:
"It’s true I slept with Britney, [but] we never had sex because another person was in the room at the time. We shared a bed and were really close, kissing, and hugging. The chemistry was magical…our feelings were so strong...It would be fair to say Britney caused major problems in our marriage. Sadly, we’re now getting divorced"
Britney cause problems in his marriage? Is he serious? Dude! Like, Man up! Do some push ups or something! I promise, I was crushed by this news. Utterly hurt and devastated. I mean I have had a thing for this man since Save the Last Dance 2 (Okay, so I know I am like the only person that watched it, but so what? When he did that thing with the microphone and made a beat to a song from her heartbeat, I was done! I know Prince did it first with his then wife's baby sonogram but so what! He was Hella HOT!) And to find that out that he is shifty and down right tasteless (you gotta be to date Britney after K-Fed. He just looks like he needs to be hit over the head with a bar of soap...repeatedly) My fantasy is so over :(
BTW: Are we not noticing a pattern with Britney and men with pregnant girlfriends/wives? No? Just thought I would put it out there...
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