Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Writer's Block

Jennifer Hudson....why, oh why would you let Andre Leon Talley choose that hideous ensemble for your Oscar win? You looked like Cruella De Ville meets Judy Jetson.

How proud am I of myself for losing 7 of my ten pounds! Maybe I should celebrate with a donut? Ha ha!

When you are at lunch with people having typical lunchtime banter....please don't start talking about the time you threw up. NOT A GOOD MOVE.

Pop rocks and coke.....remember those rumors? Mikey died? LOL

Did anyone see the rats running through Taco Bell on that CNN Video? Run for the border my azz!

Can you believe my baby starts kindergarten in September? I am going to be a crying, video camera-toting mess on his first day. Note to self....Waterproof mascara!

I miss so many of the old bloggers. Slish, Bloopty, etc...I hope they are all doing well.

Was it me or did Cameron Diaz look like she was wearing a 1986 wedding dress at the Oscars? That was NOT cute at all.

I love People of Color. We really are fly!

I am contemplating cutting my hair VERY short for the summer. Mr. 1969 may never speak to me again so I am going to need a place to stay.

Brooklyn Tech is so much better than Midwood....**ducking**

Is there any better feeling than being at a party and either hearing "I Came in the Door, I said it before..." or hearing "Boogie Down Productions, will always get paid.."?

Why did this man at work challenge me that I am not really a Mets fan and I had to shut him down and name the entire starting line-up of the Championship 86 Mets? Is he kidding me? I even named Rafael Santana at Shortstop! Does he know that I used to stay up and watch every single game and wait up for Kiner's Corner after the game? Old school New Yorker's will know what I am talking about :)

Why is this so long?

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Black Pride

Tonight my family is headed to see this.

Philadelphia is the final stop for the Exhibit in the United States and tickets are selling fast. For my NY, DC, Baltimore crew....come down and check it out. I am looking forward to seeing the Boy King and to teaching the elder Taliban a little bit of black history while we Ooooh and Ahhh.

On a side note...I keep hearing the jewelry is fabulous too. Can't wait to see what our Egyptian Queens were rocking back in the day.

When I think of past civilizations, it draws comparisons to present day times. Our beautiful children seem to have lost hope. They live for today and not for their futures. (Life as a shorty shouldn't be so rough).

Are we, as parents, aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, mentors and friends doing enough for the generations coming up? I know many people that feel like "it ain't my problem". If it's not a village issue, then what is?

These kids need our help. Black History month is a sham but can we make this a month that we try to instill some knowledge or pride in at least one black child? So many of you are wonderful storytellers, writers, thinkers and dreamers. Can you pass something on?

Today I rode the bus in to work and I was amazed at how lost the kids looked. Lost and unhappy. When kids don't dream big, they wallow in the here and now. There are infinite possibilities in life. Every day we wake up is another chance we get to get it right. If you lose hope at 12, life will be either long and miserable or short and DONE.

So do 1969 a favor and make your own Black History. Reach out to one of the little knuckleheads. You know you will feel better!

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Sum gyal ah freak....

Some Punnany gets serious, cantankerous and dangerous....

It's dangerous out here. There are so many young people that fail to realize that sex is not a game. Last week at Chey.ney University, an HBCU on the outskirts of Philadelphia, a stripper allegedly slept with 10 men on campus. This woman had HIV and knowingly infected these individuals. This has caused widespread panic at the college in both men and women. All of a sudden, the threat of disease has hit close to home.

Why anyone would sleep with a stripper without protection in this day and age, is beyond me. Now I remember being young and reckless. I remember college too. The raging hormones and passion that can overtake you and your better judgement. But in this decade of the down low, the diseased, the Hooker chronicles on H.B.O....we have to know that sleeping with a hooker would require protection. *sigh*

I wonder what will happen to me when I walk in my house and catch some half naked teenagers in my basement?

I am not one of those parents with their head in the clouds. I am a realist. I believe that the nature of kids is to try things. They are curious. They are human. I am going into it assuming they will want to have sex and actually like it once they start. I am more into educating them and teaching consequences for their actions.

I will explain why they should wait for the right person but if they can't, there is never a free ride in life. Every action comes with consequences. Some good, some bad.

Your body is special. A young woman's body is even more special because she can hold and sustain a life. To share that experience means something.

I hope I can teach them to think with both heads.

The Freedom to say *Insert whatever here*

I am a grown up. Being a grown up comes with some drawbacks but it also comes with some perks.

My favorite perk is the Freedom to say Whatever is on your mind. Honesty. So here is some honesty for you.

I have a low tolerance for bullsh*t. I am finding that as I grow older, I have less time and patience for stupidity.

I don't mean that everything that comes out of my mouth is great and eye opening. I just mean that I don't always have time for some folks and their shenanigans.

For example, I wake up and go to the gym at 5am, come home, get two kids dressed for school and then leave for work and still get here everyday by 8am.....I don't have time for young people that stroll in late everyday despite living five minutes from the job on foot...and then they talk about how hard it was to get in this morning. Yes, I am over you.

Or when I have to pay a mortgage, two car notes, a $400 a WEEK daycare bill, put food on the table, clothes on kids' backs, etc....I have no sympathy for single folks making GOOD money that waste it on clothes and hanging out and then have to call their mama's for money. Yes, I am over you too.

Now don't get me wrong....I have lived through those stages too. I was a young 1969 once and I spent all my damn money and I complained all the time. Yes, I had a great selfish stage.....BUT SOME OF YA'LL ARE PUSHING 35 and STILL DOING THIS CRAP.

And if you are...who am I to judge? But PLEASE, don't come in and complain to folks in the office.

YES, we are over you.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Friday Favorites







The Taliban


Don't ya wish your baby was hot like me?


Still a Handful


Child Abuse at Sesame Pl.ace



My Hero!


Three Generations

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Heart Yourself

Schools are closed due to a major ice storm blanketing most of Philadelphia last night. I get to work from home today with two kids. Should be fun. Especially when the phone rings.

It's pretty cool to get paid to work in your pajamas so I can't complain at all. It beats having to use up a sick day.

As I watched all of my neighbors shovelling themselves out this morning, I couldn't help but wonder....Sometimes, I feel like we are all a bunch of drones. We wake up, shuffle off to work, come home and for what? Like life is not being lived. I am sure we all feel that way sometimes. That's why you have to do things to shake it up every now and then.

What are you doing to step out of the rut? Are you bringing some excitement back into your routine?

Some cool things to try:

Get a New Hobby?
Make a special trip
Renew Your Spirit
Recapture the passion

Amidst all of the stormy weather, today is still Valentine's Day. Love yourself, Love Your Life. That's what Love is all about.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

HIStory




My Grandfather was born in Durban,South Africa. His parents were East Indian Doctors. He was a handsome man. Tall, slim, dark skin with jet black hair. He had five siblings. He would often tell me stories about his childhood in South Africa. How he remembers that Blacks had to walk in the center of the street, the Coolies (Indians) had to walk on the side of the road and the Europeans walked on the sidewalk. He never understood why he wasn't allowed to look at them, talk to them or walk on their sidewalk.

When he was 14, he woke up one night to the sounds of intruders in his home, who had come to kill his parents. As the only boy, he remembers his older sister begging for their lives. The children were spared but his parents were not so fortunate. The next day, the children were split up amongst the remaining family members.

As the only son, my Grandfather was sent to Guyana to live with his Father's sister. She was also a Doctor and had a very comfortable life. My Grandfather attended College. This was a major feat in those days. He also traveled with her extensively and spent years visiting London, Paris and other European cities. His sisters were split up and sent to various relatives. They all lost touch except for his oldest and youngest sisters. One ended up living in London and one went to Canada. All of his life, he would write them beautiful letters and when they responded, he would read them to me. His oldest sister died before he could ever see her in person. When he was 71, he traveled to London and was reunited with his youngest sister and her children. He said it was one of the happiest days of his life.

Back in Guyana, as an Indian, he was set up to marry another woman. While these arrangements were taking place, he started welding as a trade and was hired by a major steel company that was building oil rigs throughout the Caribbean. They were working on rigging in Trinidad and he was excited to get the work.

He loved the island of Trinidad and it's people. Everyday on his lunch break, he would walk into town and frequent a small restaurant. The restaurant was run by Mrs. Chung. An older black and chinese woman. Waiting tables was her daughter. A short, feisty, chubby young woman. She served that lunch with an attitude. The tall handsome young man loved to spar with her and started to look forward to his lunch visits.

Eventually, he would marry her and never leave the island. He never saw his aunt again as he ended up breaking the arranged marriage that was set-up for him back in Guyana. Tha family was shamed and his life would have been in jeopardy had he returned.

Instead, he stayed in Trinidad and made it his home. He and his wife built a home filled with love. They were blessed with seven children. One son, the oldest and they followed with six daughters. The fourth child was my mother.

My Grandfather was a wonderful man. He was wise, always had a great story to tell, loved a good western on TV, a cuban cigar and he loved his rum. While my Grandmother was the iron hand one that maintained order, he personified love. He was blessed with a happy spirit that was infectious whenever you were around him. He spoiled every child in his presence and made all adults feel like a part of the family.

When his Grandchildren were born, the numbers reversed. I became the only Granddaughter amongst all male grandsons. He was thrilled to finally have all of those boys running around but I think I always held a special place in his heart because I was the only girl. He was famous for telling me that I was his "only" Granddaughter and kissing me on the head.

He spoiled me rotten. I remember being eight years old and he would make pancakes for me with bacon and a tiny cup of coffee. Mostly milk and sugar but definitely against my mother's wishes. I would sit next to him, eating breakfast and swearing that I was a grownup.

My parents divorced and my Grandfather continued to show me what a father was for most of my life. He was always there, always positive, always encouraging. He was always boasting about my grades, my talents, my skills.

When I met my husband and brought him home, it was my Grandfather that looked him in the eye and told him "This is my only Granddaughter. Treat her like the precious commodity that she is."

When I found out I was pregnant with my first son, my Grandfather went into the hosiptal. He had been losing weight rapidly and it was clear to us that something was not right. We found out that he had cancer. He had probably been in pain for months and just refused to tell anyone. He wanted desperately to see his great grandchild but couldn't make it. The last conversation we had near his hospital bed, I held his hand and he rubbed my stomach. The whole family thought I was having a girl. He looked at me and said..."You know you're having a boy right?" "You think so?", I asked him. "Absolutely. I know these things". I kissed him and he died the next day.

My son is named after this man. The greatest man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He died on this day in 2002.

I miss you.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Without love, it ain't much...

So Anna Nicole has died. More than likely, it was a drug overdose brought on by a broken heart.

This woman was a stripper with a young son. Probably started working in the clubs to make ends meet. She lucks up on an old billionaire who promises to take care of her.
She marries him and her life changes. He buys her gifts, spoils her, etc. His family freaks out but hey, she makes him happy.

When he dies, she starts to hustle. She finds ways to make money. She poses for Playboy and becomes Playmate of the Year, signs a Guess contract, becomes a household name. She brings curvy back to the fashion pages in a time of the superskinny waif.

She's the big girl from Texas. Big Boobs, Big Hair, Big Personality.

Along the way, the vultures show up. Howard.Stern, her attorney. He finds his cash cow. Knowing Anna is a small town girl who is lonely in Hollywood....he probably supplies her with lots of remedies to ease her pain.

She gains weight and becomes a tabloid joke. Her life is spiraling out of control. She bounces back with a reality show, loses the weight and becomes a spokesperson.
She starts to regain her place in the public eye.

She becomes pregnant, and on the occassion of her child's birth....she loses her son.
Five months later, she is dead. Probably from an over.dose.

The baby still doesn't know who it's father is. Millions of dollars are at stake.
Anna's estate has probably been set-up to benefit the shady lawyer who is claiming to be her child's father and her husband.

For some reason, this whole thing is just tragic. It's the story of Hollywood. All that Glitters and the seedy underbelly of fame.

The sad part is that an innocent child is going to be at the center of this debacle.

RIP Anna

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

I have been Tagged

My girl The Bklyn Diva has tagged me.

I am supposed to post 5 Things The Blog World Doesn't Know About Me.

1. I once dated a famous singer. This was many years ago but yes, he was famous at the time. I can't name any names. If anyone wants details....you will have to email me or try and beat it out of me. LOL

2. Unless you have stumbled across this page by accident....NONE OF MY FRIENDS OR FAMILY know that I blog. This is my own private world.

3. I can't have anymore children and I say I don't want anymore but secretly....I would have liked to have had a daughter.

4. I am a trivia geek. I love trivia. I excel at Jeopardy, Trivial Pursuit, etc...I am realy good.

5. I am a pretty good artist. Shhh. I can draw.

Red Beans and Rice Didn't Miss Her!

Okay so yesterday at lunch time, I ventured out to buy some pants. Since I am in the new gig, I no longer have to wear a suit everyday. I have crossed over into the Business Casual realm. This is great but I find that I have nothing that fits into this category.

So I get to the store to look for some pants. Now, 1969 is an average sized woman. I am 5'7 and wear a size ten in pants. Pretty normal. So at the store, I try on some slacks in a size ten. They fit but the thighs are too tight. I could wear them but my legs would look like sausage casings. NOT A GOOD LOOK.

So I go back out and see that the pants also come in a 10 curvy. Cut looser through the legs. I put them on and they fit perfectly. OH-KAY. So I guess I am now Curvy?

Then I decide to try some jeans on, I grab the size 10 Curvy, since that's obviously what I now must be wearing....I can't even button them.

What is going on with retailers? Why don't the same sizes fit in one store? What is with this "Curvy" fit? Are all pants now being cut for anorexics?

And don't get me started on who would even wear a size 0 skinny fit? WTF?

Can we bring back real clothes for real women? My self esteem is taking a beating.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

On the Road to Recovery

So I am off my death bed. Thanks to everyone for the get well messages. Your girl was battling a sinus infection and mild case of strep throat. NOT CUTE AT ALL.

I took two and a half days off. I am all better now though. Sleep and drugs. Drugs and sleep. Nothing better.

Congrats to the Indianapolis Colts and to Tony Dungy. He is a classy gentleman and I was happy for him. Peyton didn't deserve the MVP trophy but that's another post.

Did you see Prince? He was better than the game. Who else would come onstage with a scarf on and some heels in the rain and still rock the house? I really need to see him in Vegas.

I have made it another month without eating red meat and pork. I am feeling much better. It's probably all mental....but I do feel good. I have also been taking my vitamins. Small changes but hopefully, they will make a difference. I am all about the lifestyle change.

Nothing else going on...still playing catch up. Sorry for the random post. My head is still fuzzy and I returned to meetings galore at work.

I will leave you all with this tidbit....on the night of the Superbowl, at 10pm....someone knocked on my door. Yup, the neighbor with a cheesecake that she had just baked. I swear people....I can't make this stuff up. Mr. 1969 thinks I have a new girlfriend. Any thoughts?

Friday, February 02, 2007

Musings of the Sick and Deranged

So I gave in and went home yesterday. Now I am drugged up on cold medicine, wearing my pajamas and bunny slippers and bored to death.

Yesterday, I happened to catch your girl Tyra "Kiss My Fat Azz" Banks on tv. Is she for real? The woman has a show where she critiques contestants based on their appearance. While judging them, she continues to remind them how she has been judged her whole life but she maintains her high self esteem.

Now because the tabloids post a picture of her and call her fat, she wants to cry on National TV?



How can you extoll self esteem when you are sporting a long, blonde weave and trying to PROVE that you aren't fat? Shouldn't you just walk onstage fat and with an afro and then say "WHAT? Love Me or Leave Me?"

And a plus size model better win the next ANTM. LOL