Just The Two of Us

As I sit here practicing the art of avoidance in a way that only those who don't want to deal with their shit can - I am remembering an earlier post. In that post I joked about how I need to leave here. My stay has been extended because there are important decisions regarding my mother that have to be made. Correction - I made the decision two years ago, and no one listened. Funny thing how people wait till things fall totally apart to take action. We've all done it - avoidance.

So, I busy myself with other projects so I don't have to take a good look at the current state of things. The only other time I have felt this way was the week of planning my father's funeral. The stay here has placed me in the extended presence of certain people I have worked hard to avoid. It started with mom becoming sick, my dad's death and the birth of my child. Those events set a chain of events in motion that led to this past week. My Dad is gone, my daughter (best thing that ever happened to me) is here, her father hasn't paid a cent in child support nor has he seen her in months. As I removed people from my life who were Stormy Weather friends, or hangers-on of my ex's (yep, I'm talking about you Ms. I'd rather be big fish in a small pond than a small fish...)or simply couldn't deal with my uppity attitude I felt stronger, yet sad.

Basically, what you've all been witnessing is the slow unraveling of my sense of security in the world and the spiraling into a depression. I'll be fine. I have a baby to take care of, so the necessary steps will be taken and it will get better. I reached out to someone in that unit this week and was shut down in a way that took my breath away due to the sheer unwarranted viciousness of the response.

In the meantime I realize that, while I have good friends, I do not have that unit that some of you are familiar with and rely on. Not really, not at all. I look at my daughter now and think: It's just you and me kid. And I'm okay with that.

Why are Black Women So Pissed?

I've been standing back watching the shit storm brewing around Jimi Izrael and his recent The Root.com blog posts. As a black woman, I understand the reactions that are pouring forth, but he's one man. One woman tweeted that she would rather perform fellatio on all the white men in Ohio than date Jimi. Really sister? Cos, damn, that's a little disturbing not to mention totally unhygienic.

I grew up in a town, in a neighborhood that was very integrated. Integrated as in black and white. More precisely - black men with white women was/is a common phenomenon. Even more common was the "black women ain't shit, are evil bitches, etc." sentiment. Not only didn't I buy into the nothing but a black man hype - I found it amusing that the majority of black women still did.

See, I don't hate black men or even dislike them. My father (the best man ever) was black. And if I take a honest look at the men I've dated, the one's who were the kindest were black. Why am I not married to one of them? Timing.

I date men who WANT to date me, that I have things in common with, have fun with, can talk to, and I'm attracted to. This means I've dated the rainbow because I am open to it. I'm not going to go sit and cry in a corner cos a black man wants someone that does not look like me. And if that is his clear preference, what would I want with him anyway? And any black woman that buys into the all black men are dogs doctrine, therefore the white or any other race of man is your savior - you're in for a rude awakening.

Psst: Sisters - a word please?
Just like you've learned that not all black men have a large penis (sorry black men, I know ya'll cling to that stereotype like a damn life raft) different means different, not better. Men are men, people are people, and issues are still issues. Love who is going to love you.


Right now I have chosen to take myself out of the dating scene. I wouldn't dare present myself to someone right now as a potential mate. Until I work through my issue of wanting to find my throw rotten fruit at any stage my deadbeat trifling' ass ex is on...see what I mean?

Since moving home, I have hit up the local bakery (shout out to Schuler's!) way too damn often and when I needed to hit the gym. I know what I'm working with - I'm cute (shout out to me in all my cuteness) have a degree, and a relatively successful career with great benefits. What I do not have is stability or peace. That's a process that I'm in the middle of. Trying to work through the all of the death, illness, crazy, toxic mofos, anger, sadness, and disappointment by myself isn't working. I would consult Deepak if I was chillin' in LA, but I'm going to have to visit a local instead.

In the meantime, I'm going to pop some corn and continue watching this great debate.

R.I.P. Mr. Kennedy

Party Over

Pity party over. I came across this little gem as I was searching the net for really really sad crappy love songs to suit my mood. Please enjoy and laugh your ass off.



She tries guys, she really does...



^Don't worry kid - see below - there's hope for you yet!!!

Repeats

Like crappy Italian food (Fazoli's anyone?) sometimes stuff just keeps on coming back...Can you believe I almost made it to seven whole days without dumb shit rearing it's ugly little turd head in my life? I even had a little celebration on FB handing over my Drama Princess tiara and everything! So here's to the Ex who decided to ruin my tranquility.



Yeah, I'm having a pity party - so?

Glenn Beck = Warm Fuzzies

@3:17 Mr. Beck made me cry for my mommy and hide under my blanket...
@3:30 I came out and giggled myself senseless.

Attack of the Angry Parent

Normally I am not one to step in while someone is disciplining their child - unless it is a clear case of abuse. Today, at the grocery store, a middle-aged white woman came through the doors with five bi-racial children under the age of ten. She immediately began yelling at them, jerked one out of his stroller and placed him in the middle of the cart. When the oldest one didn't move fast enough for her, she pushed the cart at him as if to it him with it. This child was at eye level with the cart and had he not jerked his head - the handle would have caught him in the face. When she went to do it again - I stepped in, got between her and the child and quietly explained to her to knock it off. She said nothing, but the children looked relieved. During this whole episode, people were commenting loudly about her behavior, but NO ONE stepped in. People commented on her race on the children's race as if it mattered, but NO ONE intervened.




I don't know the real story behind what happened in this video, but...damn. Every parent has had that moment where their little angel has not only gotten on their last nerve, but jumped on it, shredded it, and waved it around saying, "I dare ya to smack me!" Yeah, we've all had that moment where we checked ourselves, and walked away. No one is perfect, spanking and/or yelling, take your pick - most people have had that moment that you wish you could take back.

Question for most people is: who decides when that line between discipline and abuse has been crossed. You say: Children Services. I say: Get the hell outta here. Due to my profession I am what is known as a mandatory reporter. Now, I'm going to be careful here because thanks to random friendings on FB, the door to my blog was opened before I had blocked certain people from viewing it. That said, there have been times where cases were NOT opened and it left me SMH. The neglect and/or abuse was so obvious a blind person could have reported having seen the shit and still given an accurate account. Nothing was done. Not a damn thing. What do you do? Keep reporting it. Don't let it go because a child's life may depend on it.

The lady in the video? Maybe she was just having a bad day as her defenders say. Or maybe this video is the best thing that ever happened to this kid. Too many people laugh at this and other crazy shit on YouTube like it's funny or part of one's culture. Bullshit. Yes, black people, I am talking to you. Then you wonder why are community is in the hot ass mess that it's in. Oh, but isn't it funny? No plantation Negroes who write that being hit with a belt, switch, extension cord did them a lot of good - it is not.



h/t Undercover Black Man