Don't Be Talkin' Shit

Ya'll know I tend to go on hiatus. This will all change as sooooooooooooon as I get my degree. Until then, sporadic it is. Right now I should still be working on my literary theory paper. I'm discussing Zora Neale Hurston and feminist criticism. This paper is gonna be good. I love Zora...in fact, if I ever have another daughter that'll be one of her names probably.

In other news, I went to Barnes and Noble today for the first time in a long time. Now I remember why I stayed my black ass out of there. BUT, I got some good books and here are the titles:

1. Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood- a memoir by bell hooks
2. Drown- a collection of short stories by Pulitzer Prize winning author Junot Diaz, I picked this one up because suga said it was the business
3. The Narrows- Ann Petry's third novel I believe, I'd never even heard of it before I saw it today
4. Fruit of the Lemon- by Andrea Levy...another one I saw on suga's page. I've heard good things about this book from a couple of people so it's worth a shot
5. Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory- DAMNIT!!! if I had found this book back in August, when the semester started, maybe I coulda blogged a little more. SMH!
6. Dictionary of Symbolism: Cultural Icons and the Meanings Behind Them- I love dictionaries like these....very interesting stuff
and finally
7. a new journal....and it's the shit, it's brown leather with some type of goldish bronzish color in there too....

So yeah, I added 6 more books (or really 4) to my "To Read" list...and that's in addition to the other 182 that I haven't read yet.

Here's a poem that I wrote not too long ago. It ain't all that, but it's mine.
Like to read it, here it go:

I used to get butterflies
when I thought of you
Stopped everything to be
sure I was free
whenever you called
I thought I had it all...
in you
Didn't realize that this
was nothing more
than a slave/master
relationship
I only had
one of you
I was one
of your many
Never top priority
It's taken me awhile
BUT my eyes are open now
And I'm tired of writing
love poems about you
So consider this one the last...
at least for a while

Ok, now back to getting work done.

Rantin' and Ravin' and OBAMA!

It's been a few days. I hate when I do this, because I forget all the crazy shit I wanted to write, lol.

Went to court the other day for a speeding ticket. The trooper that got me had also gotten about 3/4 of the other people there...what an asshole, lol. I even asked for a warning, thinkin' "shiiiit, my eyebrows are fresh, my lipgloss is poppin', I got this in the bag", ONLY to be played completely to the left. LMAO. I felt so dumb...I really was tryna be sexy! Anyway, so I'm at court...'cuz Honey don't believe in paying in advance when you could possibly have the ticket reduced or even thrown out. I don't know if I just have a friendly face

EVERY man in there, for whatever reason, wanted to talk to me that mornin'. Married, prolly married with no ring on, fat, short, tall, bald....all them niggas thought they was runnin' G.

***I started this blog a week ago....so, so triflin'***
On to the next...
OBAMA! OBAMA! OBAMA! I am so excited about all the possibilities. Since I'm late as hell and all the other blogs I read have already covered this issue I'll leave it at that. LOL.

I've been reading Fledgling by Octavia Butler, and so far it is really good. Just a sidenote for all you who love to read.


Have any of ya'll seen this hot ass mess? Why she ain't tell her mama to take that shit off?!?! I mean she's not ugly, but some moms need to realize that being considered a MILF is not in their future. Let it go. And her man know he wrong too, damnit. Just 'cuz he might like it, he know most brotha's don't wanna see that "mom jean turned club outfit" ass shit. Goodness.

I wanna go on vacation so bad. I think I'm gonna start planning to take a cruise next summer. Nothing major. I didn't really travel too much this year. I went to Jersey a couple of times with friends, of course New York a couple of times with friends and alone

...where else could i get that red ass nose, Myrtle Beach with the girls

(can the church say AMEN?!?!), North Carolina with the fam
(now THAT'S a milf, LMAO!)
Orlando with the boo
and that's it so far....other than trips to DC which I take on the regular.

One more thing before I go...I hate that we gotta use html codes now instead of just draggin' our damn pic where we want it to go!

Pretty Much Famous

Hey everybody. Shit has been pretty eventful here lately. Nothin' major...just everyday happenin's. The main thing on my mind right now is finding a grad school. I want to teach African American Lit on the college level. Basically, I'm trying to construct the best grad program to do that. I'm getting really excited about that.

But FIRST, I need to graduate. Suga definitely properly diagnosed me with SENIORITIS!!!! And it's teeeeeeerrrrrible ya'll. I can't bring myself to read anything or complete half of my assignments. I got about 7 weeks left to get it together and I know I can do it.

I don't know if any of ya'll have tried to tune in to my show. I haven't been on-air in about 2 weeks. Somebody got a damn virus on the computer...so, until further notice, all shows have been put on hold.

I'm almost finished reading The Secret Life of Bees. Pretty good book. The thing that keeps fuckin' with my head is that Rosaleen in the book seems much older, bigger, and overall more slave-like than J.Hud*. I haven't seen the movie yet, so I'm curious as to how they will play those roles...particularly J. Hud and Queen. AND, I can't wait to join in on the discussion with We Be Readin' Books...and Shit book club. (For info on that check out the Naked and Natural blog on the left)

And now for the big news:
Last night, I met one of my all-time FAVORITE authors....which is why I'm pretty much, almost, kinda, famous now! Well, ask me who it is. "Who's the author Honey?" Aight, aight, damn ya'll ain't gotta rush me!



WALTER DAMN MOSLEY!!!!! oK!!!! I love this man. He was so damn cool too, the shit was ridiculous. He talked to the audience about living "The Literary Life"...he was funny. He walked in the room, wearing his signature all black, and took my breath away. Only a true lover of the written word could possibly feel this way just from seeing an author. Most people, including my man, don't give a damn. I was so excited to tell him that I'd gotten the chance to talk to him for a few and take a picture with him....this Grammy winning, critically acclaimed crafter of words. This man who takes the problems of Black men and puts it into words so fluidly and vividly that even white women understand. I love Walter Mosley. And he loves me too...come on now, ya'll see him all up on me in the picture, LMAO!

This one older lady was clearly throwin' the pussy at him from all angles, lol!. I mean she got her book signed and gave him what I assumed was the smoldering eye. She laughed, throwing her head back...I presume this was so that she could elongate her neck and get her face out of the way of her breasts, which were one sneeze away from being on the table. The kicker, though, was when she jumped into the line next to the book-signing to BUY ANOTHER book. She got BACK in line and waited again until she got back to Mosley. This time she pulled the same flirtatious bullshit only to be pushed to the side when he declared that it was "time to take this picture with Honey". Heeeey. He know my name ya'll. LOL! I saw my old African American Lit professor there and made her take a pic with us too. She said I was embarrassing her...but I assured her it was ok ('cuz shit i'm famous too now). I'm so glad he came here. Obama was here last night too...but since I've already seen him I had to go check out the reading.

It sucks that none of my friends are into the type of reading that I'm into. I'm not knocking Girls in da Hood 1-14, but I enjoy real (in my eyes) literature. (When asked about "Urban Lit", Mosley said he couldn't be mad at anybody reading a book. And once they get bored with that they'd go looking for some more enriching material...just a matter of time.) I couldn't even brag to any of them who I'd met, talked to, and took a picture with. Because 1. they wouldn't know who he was and 2. they wouldn't care if they did. Wish I knew more people that were passionate about African American literature. Ah well.

Fuck That! I AM my hair!!!!!

Writing from the hospital...and this is really probably illegal or something, lol. Anyway, I'm gonna make this one short. I wanted to put together a little slide show of the transformations I've made as far as my hair goes.

I got my last relaxer in September of 2006 when I went to New Jersey to visit a friend. I will never forget...I stayed up until like 2 in the morning getting that damn shit because I had to have fresh roots for my birthday, lol.

Thinking back, I'm not sure what made me make the transition. Maybe all the years of me complaining about needing a perm and everyone responding the same, "Girl please, you don't NEED nothing." Maybe it was looking at my mother's natural waves and my father's head full of curls that made me wonder what I was made of.

Whatever reason I did it....going natural has been one of the best decisions I've made recently. I'm never going back to the dark side, lol. Here is a slide show of my different hairstyles. My silk wrap still looks like I have a relaxer.

What's goin' on everybody? I don't know why I can't write consistently to save my life. Guess I'll start at the top. First of all, I just celebrated my birthday on September 21st. Virgo's STAND UP! Glory to God for all my blessings...especially being able to be another year wiser and stronger!


I've fallen in love with some stuff lately. Like to hear it, here it go...Solange's new cd, Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams, is that shit. I LOVE IT! It has a kind of Motown flavor, which I guess is 'in' right now as Saddiq's new album has that type of vibe too. My favorite songs are God Given Name, T.O.N.Y., WOULD'VE BEEN THE ONE, and Valentine's Day. The cd is definitely worth buying.

I've always been in love with chocolate chip cookies. Damn if Royal Farms (a gas station) don't make the best ones. Them shits are CRACK! So chewy. So soft. Perfection. What's real sad is that the chicks in there know me. Everytime I go in I buy 5 bags (3 for .99 per bag). And everytime they get an attitude. Now I try to remain calm and refrain from reminding these bitches that no one dragged their ass to this damn gas station and forced them to work here. DO YOUR JOB BITCH AND GIVE ME MY DAMN COOKIES! At least I never completely clean them out. I always leave at least one stack for the other customers.

Which brings me to my next point. One of my biggest pet peeves is bad customer service. I hate when people act like they don't want to be at work. Don't get me wrong, I know we all have our bad days, myself included...but damn! I know ya'll have been somewhere and you can tell damn well that the person doesn't want to help you. From restaurants to the movie theatre. Seriously, if you don't wanna help me find the shoes in my size then bitch don't work at Dillard's SHOE DEPARTMENT. Get a fuckin' clue and go get a job you like. Two nights ago (and I know Iwas wrong) me and my homegirl went to McDonald's, placed a small order, and pull up to the first window. We were met with this greasy ass chick with this bitch ass look on her face. I asked 'How much?' She mumbled some shit under her breath. I repeated 'How much?' She said 'I saaaiiiiiid 7.26.' I looked left, right, in front of my car, behind my car....'cuz I KNOW this chick ain't talkin' to me. My homegirl sees the shit is about to hit the fan so she reminds me to keep it ladylike. I took a deep, DEEP breath and handed her a $10. While I was waiting for the change my homegirl is like 'What the fuck is wrong with that bitch?' I thought about it for a second and could not come up with any reason for her to be talking to me, a complete stranger, like that. Now judging from her blue and burgandy 27 piece, I could assume she was from 12th Street in Downtown Newport News somedamnwhere (<--that's called an infix- your English lesson for the day). I decided to do something nice for the less fortunate. As she was about to hand me my change, I said 'You know what go 'head and keep that...get your damn hair done or something. I'd be mad as hell if I was pushing 30 working here too. Greasy bitch.' I pulled off before she could respond or else my ass may have been fighting Rasputia's big sister.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!

Check me out if you can on Tuesday and Thursday from 1-2 at http://www.woduradio.com/. DJ Honey B. definitely brings you the business.

Dayum!

I am wo' DOWN ya'll. School is....going. It's all good, but this semester I don't feel connected to a couple of my classes at ALL. The material is downright boring and I can't force myself to read some of the shit they put before me.

I started my show last week...or it might of been the week before last. It's going pretty well. I'm still trying to familiarize myself with the equipment. I'm also still trying to find myself behind the mic. The thing is the show is broadcast on campus television, so I always gotta make sure my shit is intact aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnd I gotta make sure that I'm cute at all times....even when the music is playin', lol. A couple of people at the station have been very friendly and welcoming though, and that is much appreciated. Ya'll can listen if you're interested. http://www.woduradio.com/ DJ Honey B. is on air every Tuesday and Thursday from 1-2. The show is fairly short, but if you get the opportunity tune in and let me know what you think. Seriously.

In other news, I'm really disturbed by this new season of ANTM. Not because of Isis, but because of the other women who feel that they can belittle her or deserve to be there more than her due to the fact that she's...you know. I can not STAND discrimination...but I hate it even more when it's clear that in reality they are all hatin'. I mean, damn, Isis looks better than a couple of those girls. Clark was one of them. And I'm sorry, but clearly somebody done told her wrong. She looks like the damn transgender of the show and got nerve enough to talk about somebody else. On the first episode, I was SOOOO glad when that one girl with the glasses got sent home. She was talkin' cash shit about Isis. Sayin' she was the least of her worries, blah, blah, blah. Take ya hatin' ass home chile. She gots to feel stupid as hell....cuz it's people like me all over America laughin' our asses off.

In keeping with reality television, what the fuck is up with Kenley on Project Runway? Seriously. I love her style and she's a good designer, but can you please shut the fuck up sometimes. I hate when people, who are aspiring to be/do something, overtalk the people that are already there. It irks me to NOO end. I understand she has to defend her garment and so forth...but can Heidi at least get out her complete statement before you open your damn mouth? How about Michael Kors, who by the way is responsible for the creation of some bad ass shoes? Aren't you trying to get where he's at? Thought so. So, shut the hell up and take heed. Further, it's about time Joe's ass got sent home. I feel like he should have left a looooong time ago. Definitely before my girl Terri.

I love her curls, though, way better than her designs. Back to the point. So when Joe was being critiqued tonight, Kenley and her client bust out laughing. If I was Joe I probably would have emptied her gas tank....seriously. How unprofessional is that? Grow the hell up and be thankful that you're safe...because that shit you sent down the runway for the Zodiac Challenge should have been the end of your ass. I'm a stickler for professionalism I guess.

I see I had a visitor from Africa and one from somewhere in Asia (i think...hell I'm an English major for a reason). That's exciting as hell. Hey ya'll, lol.

'Til next time.

It's Been a Long Time

since I last posted. My daughter started Kindergarten yesterday. That girl acted a fool. She's been in school for the past two years, and last school year she took the bus. This experience, yesterday, was nothing new for me. I didn't cry at all...but damn if my daughter didn't cut UP! I mean she cried like she was being sent to Cuba. Drama Queen.

Classes have been going okay. All my instructors are on point. The material in one, and sometimes two, of the classes is so damn boring. But I won't be bored when I'm walkin' my ass across that stage in May so I just need to keep it together.

I told ya'll that I'm one of the new personalities on my college radio station. I just got my slot yesterday :) I'm on air Tuesday and Thursday from 1-2. Ow! Ow! I am too damn excited....but still nervous. This morning I went and sat in on another personality's show. It was a lot of fun and I got on the mic to let them know they need to look out for me soon. I think this is gonna be a lot of fun. Everybody at the station has been nothing but nice, so I look forward to working with the team.

I was at Walgreen's the other day and saw this license plate. I thought it was the shit.Do ya'll get it? A lot of people havejust said bein' black, payin' no attention the heart. The plate reads LOVE Bein' Black....and I know I do, lol.

Another picture I love is one of my daughter and grandfather. I took this at our family reunion.

I call it Bridging the Gap. A couple years back I took an African American History course. We had a project to research our lineage...15 page minimum. I never realized, until this point, how important it is to know your history. For example, I never knew that my maternal grandmother's grandfather was responsible for constructing the first school house for Black children in Surry County, Virginia. Nor did I know that my mother's grandfather was a full-blood Italian man by the name of Anthony Amato. He lived in Portland, Maine. There is a family restaurant there...an Italian joint called Amato's. One day I want to go, show my face, and see what I can see. I make it a point that my daughter knows her history. Starting with her parents, then her grandparents, and then her great-grandparents. She spends a lot of time with my grandparents. They adore her and the wisdom they can bestow is something she can't get from anywhere else. Have any of you ever traced your roots?

One Blessing After Another

It's been a tiring, but exciting, week for me. My daughter turned 5 on the 23rd. She's been the biggest blessing in my life. It's the most exciting thing to watch her grow and mature. Her party was fabulous. We had a big turnout and she got lots of money and lots of nice things....including a new bike, which she was very excited about. I let her get her hair straightened and she looked like a little princess. Hair was all the way to the middle of her back...Lord Jesus.

Ain't she fly?

Started the first day of my senior year today. That is too exciting for me to put into words. Like I said before, it's been a LONG time coming. I couldn't be more happy. I am actually involved with the school for the first time. As I talked about earlier, I'm the historian of Sigma Tau Delta(the English Honor Society/Fraternity). The best news, though, is that I was just offered an ON-AIR position with my college radio station today. I'm just truly excited about life and all the things, good and bad, that will be coming my way.

THANK YOU LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. I see I have some visitors from all over. Holla at me ya'll. Talk to me. I only hear from suga and my friends from home. I want to meet you.

I've been crazy busy lately. School starting, my daughter getting ready for Kindergarten, AND her 5th birthday yesterday...I'm exhausted. I decided to share this with you guys. It came from my old blog.

WHY I LOVE BEING A MOTHER
1. Nobody loves you like your child. She's only three years old, but I realize that my daughter is going to grow up. She's going to grow away from her mommy. She's not going to hug and kiss me all day, everyday forever. I can dig it. However, no matter how much time passes, no matter how many arguments transpire, no matter how many times you disagree NOBODY loves you like your child does. It has been a definite struggle for me to raise my daughter. Sure, I have plenty of help. Her father and his family, my family, and the few friends I trust. Regardless, my daughter loves me the same. She doesn't care if I'm stepping out of the house in Prada's and Chanel bags. She doesn't care if I'm driving a Benz. She loves me the same. Unconditionally. I woke up this morning in a bad mood. I've been going through alot lately, emotionally. Milani took one look at me (as soon as she opened her eyes) and said "Mom(yes,my little three year old baby calls me mom..ALREADY), what's wrong?" I am not the type of mother to involve my little one in grown folk's affairs. So, I replied "Nothing much babe, Mommy just doesn't feel too good." She goes, "Well, why Mom?" I say "Because a couple of things aren't going too well for me...but I'll be okay sweet." She said "It's okay Mommy, I love you and I'm your friend." THREE! My baby is only three.
2. Such a reflection of yourself. I can't count the amount of times my and her daddy's families have said "Honey, if that ain't you!!" I couldn't be prouder because my daughter is one of the most intelligent and well-behaved little girls I have ever known. (And I'm definitely not saying that because she's mine) We go out and people always notice how mature she is for her age. Maybe it's because she's an only child and doesn't have other children to cut up with, for the most part, except at school. OR, it could be because her momma ain't raisin' no fool! I prefer the latter. Me, personally? I don't see the resemblence in us as much as everyone else. I don't think she looks like me. Nor do I think she acts like me...because she is terribly shy. She gets that from her dad. However, my daughter does get a little silly at times...like her momma. We went to see Dreamgirls back in December and for the next 3 months all she wanted to do was perform "And I'm Telling You" and "Listen". Please believe baby girl knows all the words. When her, myself, and my ladies get together lil' miss mimi keeps us entertained. My friends can't do a damn thing but smile and say "Honey, she is JUST LIKE YOU!" And looking at her, I think to myself "Well shit....not bad. Not bad at all."
3. What greater reward is there? I don't know anything that can make me feel as good as my daughter telling me she loves me. Or feeling her little lips on my cheek, forehead, hand, lips, or wherever else she feels like kissing me. (Sometimes she likes to be crazy and kiss my arm or my leg.) Nothing feels better than her two little arms, that I MADE, wrapping around my neck, leg, or waist. What could be more rewarding than going to pick your child up from a hard day's work, or a rough day of classes, and having them run at you full force because they are THAT glad that you're there? Or the cutesy little art projects they make for you. This year was Milani's first year in school. For Mother's Day, her class threw a tea party for all the moms, grandmoms, Godmoms, etc. It was the cutest fuckin' thing. I can't believe I didn't cry my damn eyes out. They made us a flower pot complete with their own decorations. They even planted their own flower in there. They also made us our Mother's Day card. It was the best Mother's Day gift. It came from my baby girl and she put her little heart into it.
I make it my business everyday to tell my daughter how much I love her. I make it my business to see that she knows that even though her father and I aren't together anymore neither one of us love her any less. I make it my business to remind her how precious she is. And even at three, I make it my business to teach my daughter that she is more valuable than any material possession or any man who ever comes into my life. She is a diamond. I treat her that way.
Women raising daughters: Teach her to love and RESPECT herself. If she doesn't she'll never understand her value. Teach her to be strong. Teach her to keep pushing. Women have it terribly hard in this world. Make your daughter a survivor, a winner, a WOMAN. Make sure you teach her her worth. If not, your daughter will have hell to pay...at YOUR expense.
Women raising sons: Teach them to love themselves. A man can be tough. A man can be strong. But if he's not gentle as well, you're going to have problems. Show him how to treat women. Starting with you. Don't let any man belittle or abuse you. Especially not around your son. It makes all the difference.
To all the mothers out there, love your kids. Because they damn sure love you.

Small Dose of OUR Reality

I ran across this article last night and was completely flabbergasted.

BERWYN HEIGHTS, Md. - Mayor Cheye Calvo got home from work, saw a package addressed to his wife on the front porch and brought it inside, putting it on a table. Suddenly, police with guns drawn kicked in the door and stormed in, shooting to death the couple's two dogs and seizing the unopened package. In it were 32 pounds of marijuana. But the drugs evidently didn't belong to the couple. Police say the couple appeared to be innocent victims of a scheme by two men to smuggle millions of dollars worth of marijuana by having it delivered to about a half-dozen unsuspecting recipients. The two men under arrest include a FedEx deliveryman; investigators said the deliveryman would drop off a package outside a home, and the other man would come by a short time later and pick it up. Now, federal authorities say they're looking into how local law enforcement handled the July 29 raid. FBI Agent Rich Wolf said late Thursday that the bureau had opened a civil rights investigation into the case. A furious Calvo said earlier Thursday that he and his wife, Trinity Tomsic, had asked the government to investigate. "Trinity was an innocent victim and random victim," Calvo said outside his two-story, red-brick house in this middle-class Washington suburb of about 3,000 people. "We were harmed by the very people who took an oath to protect us." Calvo insisted the couple's two black Labradors were gentle creatures and said police apparently killed them "for sport," gunning down one of them as it was running away. "Our dogs were our children," said the 37-year-old Calvo. "They were the reason we bought this house because it had a big yard for them to run in." The mayor, who was changing his clothes when police burst in, also complained that he was handcuffed in his boxer shorts for about two hours along with his mother-in-law, and said the officers didn't believe him when he told them he was the mayor. No charges were brought against Calvo or his wife, who came home in the middle of the raid. Prince George's County Police Chief Melvin High said Wednesday that Calvo and his family were "most likely ... innocent victims," but he would not rule out their involvement, and he defended the way the raid was conducted. He and other officials did not apologize for killing the dogs, saying the officers felt threatened. The FBI will monitor how effective, fair and professional the law enforcement agency's conduct was during the incident, Wolf said. A police spokesman declined comment Thursday on the FBI investigation. Police announced Wednesday they had arrested two men suspected in a plot to smuggle 417 pounds of marijuana, and seized a total of $3.6 million in pot. Investigators said the package that arrived on Calvo's porch had been sent from Los Angeles via FedEx, and they had been tracking it ever since it drew the attention of a drug-sniffing dog in Arizona. Police intercepted it in Maryland, and an undercover detective posing as a deliveryman took it to the Calvo home. Calvo's defenders - including the Berwyn Heights police chief, who said his department should have been alerted ahead of time - said police had no right to enter the home without knocking. But officials insisted they acted within the law, saying the operation was compromised when Calvo's mother-in-law saw officers approaching the house and screamed. That could have given someone time to grab a gun or destroy evidence, authorities said. Neighbors in Berwyn Heights, which Calvo described as "Mayberry inside the Capital Beltway," have rallied around the couple. On Sunday night, supporters gathered on a ballfield to pay tribute to the family and the dogs. A banner on the wooden fence around Calvo's yard read, "Cheye and Trinity, We support you, Friends and Citizens of Berwyn Heights." Around it were dozens of handwritten messages from supporters. In addition to being the part-time mayor, Calvo works at a nonprofit foundation that runs boarding schools. His wife is a state finance officer. "When all of this happened I was flabbergasted," said next-door neighbor Edward Alexander. "I was completely stunned because those dogs didn't hurt anybody. They barely bark." The case is the latest embarrassment for Prince George's County officials. A former police officer was sentenced in May to 45 years in prison for shooting two furniture deliverymen at his home last year, one of them fatally. He claimed that they attacked him. In June, a suspect jailed in the death of a police officer was found strangled in his cell. Calvo said he was astonished that police have not only failed to apologize, but declined to clear the couple's names. His wife spoke through tears as she described an encounter with a girl who used to see the couple walking their dogs. "She gave me a big hug and she said, `If the police shot your dogs dead and did this to you, how can I trust them?'" Tomsic said. "I don't want people to feel like that. I just want them to be proud of our police and proud to live in Prince George's County." --- Associated Press writers Sarah Karush and Nafeesa Syeed in Washington and Kasey Jones in Baltimore contributed to this story. By BRETT ZONGKER Associated Press Writer

Are you serious? This shit happens to us in the African American community every single day of our lives. How many of you know someone who was shot, beaten, wrongfully accused, and/or just overall abused by the fuckin' police? And here we have some mayor who's cryin' because his dogs were killed?!?! Don't get me wrong. I love animals. I know that most people consider their pets a part of the family. But how many of our Black men have been shot down because police "thought the suspect had a gun"...when in all actuality they knew damn well when they asked the man for identification he HAD to reach in his pocket for it?!?! And for the mayor to say they "were harmed by the very people who took an oath to protect" them...WELCOME TO OUR WORLD!!! WELCOME AND GOOD MORNING! Wake up Mayor! This is the shit we've BEEN dealing with. These are the same officers who shot and killed Ray Ray last week because he was in the wrong damn place at the wrong damn time. What do you expect? You want the citizens of Maryland to rally around you because you're effin dogs were killed? What about the mothers who have had to bury their REAL children. Those that they CREATED. And then, supporters gather around the ballfield to pay tribute to the family! I mean...do what you wish, but seriously. Would any of these people have given a flying fuck if this same shit happened to the Jenkins family out in Baltimore some damn where? I think not. Then the girl who regularly saw the couple walking their dogs says "if the police shot your dogs dead and did this to you, how can I trust them?" Bitch WHERE THE FUCK YOU BEEN? DO YOU NOT WATCH THE NEWS?!?! Fuck them dogs. What about PEOPLE? I am not celebrating the fact that this couple's animals were killed...but damnit it's high time that someone, or something, OTHER than our Black brothers and/or sisters gets senselessly gunned down. It's about time they get an extremely SMALL dose of OUR reality.

Sidebar: I am by no means an angry black woman. However, I am ADAMANT about the abuse and degredation of Black people everywhere on behalf of the police. Further, I know the majority of the Black people who have encounters with the police have definitely done something wrong....but that does not take away from the number of Black people who have been wrongly accused and abused by the police. Those in the likes of Assata Shakur, Rodney King, Jena 6...the list keeps going. FUCK THE POLICE.

Dreams Do Come True

When I was in highschool I could have easily been categorized as a rebel (for lack of a better term). I skipped a grade and have always been younger than my classmates. My parents (meaning er'body who had a hand in raising me) had a lot of tough decisions to make based solely on my age difference. I mean, I was 5 in the second grade. This 2 year age difference never really had any impact on my life until highschool. While all my friends were allowed to do whatever the hell they wanted to do, I actually had rules! And it pissed me off. Be in the house by 10?!?!?! Pssssht! Whatever.
That's when all the trouble started. I never really had an issue with the things I was told to do until about my 10th grade year. The year I REALLY discovered boys and how wonderfully full of shit they were. I discovered weed that year. I discovered everything that a parent wants their child NOT to discover. Needless to say, I was off the chain. Now I never was a freak joint, nor was I extremely fast...but I was definitely speedin' in the left lane, lol. By this school year, most of my friends had been sexually active for 2 years or more. I wasn't. But damn if I won't real cute, lol. All the older boys wanted to talk to me...especially when they realized how young I was....taking my age for lack of knowledge.
Without telling all my damn business, I'll just say I really enjoyed my sophmore year of highschool. I was on Homecoming Court and just all around that was MY year. I was that bitch, lol. The men loved me....the bitches didn't, lol. I loved it. Fast forward to my junior year. I was on a whole 'nother level this school year. I was skipping school like nobody's business, sneakin' out the house, smokin' all day everyday...I was a mess. Looking back, it is so sad how grown I thought I was. 14 years old when I started 11th grade and turned 15 later that September!!! 14 smoking like a rasta. 15 skipping school to do God knows what. It was a shame. I am still regretful about that school year to this date. I hurt my family in so many ways. I always say if I was ever given a chance to do it over I would start with the 10th grade year (because I was the shit) and really act right 11th grade year.
Flash to senior year. Everything is starting out smooth. I'm 15 getting ready to turn 16 on the 21st of September(<---SHAMELESS plug). I've promised my whole family that I'm going to do right...turn over a new leaf. Things are going pretty well. That November my older cousin/best friend/partner in crime finds out she is pregnant. She was about 21 at the time. I joked her so bad. We used to party hard and we looooooved to flirt with the fellas. "Guess yo' ass won't be in a bikini THIS summer, LMAO. Guess it's gon' be a HOT summer for YOU. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt.....wouldn't be me, LMAO!!!!" Flash to January 2003. I haven't come on my cycle. Aww shit. I go to pick up my paycheck from my old job. My cousin is with me and before I head to the manager's office I went to the bathroom to take a test. I left it with my cousin. After I got my check I went back to the bathroom. When I opened the door my cousin said, with all the joy she could muster, aaaaallll the same things I said to her. I can't even remember my reaction. I just remember thinking "I'm gonna have a baby." Abortion never ONCE crossed my mind. Never. Even at 16. Before I got pregnant I never thought I would be in college. Sure, I've always been extremely smart. Some people even go so far as to say that I'm one of the smartest people they know. I had always pictured my life as that of a Socialite. Education was NOWHERE on my list of priorities. Then I found myself pregnant. WTF?!?! Flash to August 23, 2003. I first laid eyes on my little lady this day. From the moment I saw her I knew my life had to change. I had to go to college. How else could I give this angel all the things my mother didn't give me?* How else could I stress to her how important it is to do well in school? How else could I afford to give her a comfortable lifestyle? Clearly, she didn't ask to be born to a 16 year old mother and 18 year old father. Why should she have to suffer?
That day I decided I would begin school as soon as possible. I was working a mediocre job at freakin' Pizza Hut and I didn't have a car or a license. School started the day she was born so I wasn't able to enroll at the local community college until January 2004. I took one class first. Then I moved up to two. Then three. I took a couple classes here and there until I had enough credits to transfer comfortably.
August 2007 I started my first semester at ODU. (GO MONARCHS!!!!) I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE SCHOOL. On my daughter's 5th birthday I will begin the first semester of my SENIOR YEAR! It's been a long time coming. It's been a struggle, with a lot of highs and even more lows. But, I'm realizing my dream. To be a good example to my daughter. I want to show her that I worked hard to go from a 16 year old mom with no vision to a 22 year old college GRADUATE. Last semester I was inducted into Sigma Tau Delta...the English Honor Fraternity. It was the first achievement, or award...recognition or whatever, since I can remember.
Ya'll see them honor cords, lol. I will be the first person on my mother's side of the family to graduate college! The FIRST! I can't wait to make everyone proud when I walk across that stage in May.
My dream is coming true. I'm making something out of nothing, and I couldn't be more excited.No matter what your setback is, there are ways around, over, under, or through it. Find the best route and take it.

Did You Realize That You Were a Champion?

I was just browsing the internet and I ran across some photos I really like. My pops (I have a stepdad whom I call dad...my real father I refer to as Pop) and I like to talk basketball every now and again. He is a basketball fanatic. I remember everytime we got together for a visit, whether short or extended, he would have me in somebody's gym, at least once, watching him play. Pop is short....for a man. He's about 5'6, maybe even 5'5. His height has never taken anything away from his game though. He plays with a lot of heart and with all his strength. I've always admired that about him. We used to watch NBA games when I was a kid and Muggsy Bogues was one of the most talked about players. I mean damn...that man is like my size. But I tell you what, his little ass gave everyone of those NBA players a run for their money. No doubt about it.

You see all that air? WTF?!?! My pops had a smile on his face from beginning to end of every Muggsy game. A smile like 'yeah nigga, WHAT!'. I know for a fact that seeing him play caused him to feel that much more confident on the court.

I don't know if ya'll have ever seen him play, but this man was QUICK. I'm talkin' 'bout stupid fast. He'd steal the ball from one of them 7 footers and they wouldn't have even seen him comin'...literally. Look at the picture above...see that little slick smile, lol.

They just couldn't hold him. Muggsy was a bad mothafucka ya'll. I'm dead serious.
Just to show how he looked in comparison to some of his fellow NBA players. He was pictured above with Manute Bol, his one-time teammate. I think Bol was like 7'7"...or 7'6".

This picture is one of my favorite Muhammad Ali shots.

First round. First minute. Knocked his ass out. Ali won't neva scared, lol. He was always full of confidence and fought with heart and soul. Can't nobody fight that smooth and fluid without some soul. I don't care what you say. Ali became the youngest to hold the Heavyweight Championship title when he whipped Sonny Liston's ass.

My Point: Work hard, exude confidence in ALL you do, and put some soul in it. You'll realize your inner champion...believe me.

California Dreamin'

All respect and praises are due to my girl J. California Cooper. She is that shit. I recently reread a couple of her short stories and let me tell you...if you haven't already, you need to check her out. Of her works that I have read she is something like a feminist writer. Her main characters are usually Black women going through and, then, overcoming something. I'm in the middle of reading Some People, Some Other Place. It's been a slow process though because school has been extremely hectic this summer. So far the book is really good and very original. It is told from the POV of an unborn child. The baby chronicles the lives of her ancestors and her mother. My favorite work of hers (although I haven't read them all) has definitely got to be Some Love, Some Pain, Sometime. Whew LAWD! You talkin' about some good readin'!!! I won't lie. Some of the stories are a little drab and even drag at times. But I guarantee you will see a little of yourself in every single one of them. Further, I'm positive that you will take a lesson away from each story as well. Her stories may seem, and even read, simple...but there is a profound message in all of them. Someone described her work as "strongly, deliberately reminiscent of conversations over backyard fences". Cooper's writing just feels right. Just wanted to write a line or two about her. Maybe some of you have never heard of her. Maybe some of you have never read her. Familiarize yourselves...she is the business.


On another note:

I love this. I randomly saw it on someone's myspace page. I only fell in love after I saw the adinkra symbol tattooed on her arm.

"Adinkra is a cotton cloth produced in Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire which has traditional Akan symbols stamped upon it. The adinkra symbols represent popular proverbs and maxims, record historical events, express particular attitudes or behaviour related to depicted figures, or concepts uniquely related to abstract shapes. It is one of several traditional cloths produced in the region – the other well known cloths being kente and adanudo."**

I have two adinkra symbols tattooed on my wrist. That is probably my favorite tattoo. My best friend calls it my crest.

The one below pretty much means "learn from your mistakes". You might recognize it from the Velvet Rope album.

This one pretty much means "no one before God".

The other two symbols on my "crest" tattoo are the Virgo symbol and a Japanese character that means "mother". Back in January, 2006, a few months after I got the tattoo, I was sitting in Statistics class behind an Asian girl. She turned around and looked at my arm. She was shocked when she asked "YOU'RE a MOM?!?!?!" I replied "yeah, how you know?" (complete with my black girl attitude and semi-pursed lips). She pointed to my tattoo. Then I lost the attitude and got excited, lol. "You're Japanese?" She said "Yeah". "And this really means mother?!?!?!" She said "Yeah." That was probably the highlight of the semester, lol. So, yeah, my shit is official!

One more picture for the road:

My bookshelf. I told ya'll....it's not a game!

**http://africanhistory.about.com/library/weekly/aaAdinkra.htm...let me include SOME kinda citation before my ass gets sued or somethin' crazy, lol.

Did Ya'll Really Put This Shit on Wax?

Ok, so I'm really disturbed right now. I'm at work...got the iPod on shuffle and Don't Gotta Go Home by Monica comes on. Cool...I love Mo. NOT! Nothing but bullshit flowed out of those speakers for all of 3 minutes and 56 seconds. Apparently, both Monica and DMX (go figure) think it's fine to cheat on their significant others.

Figure 1:

DMX

Baby, its like, its like I love my wife

We going through things and I aint going home tonight

You got time for a nigga or is he still with you

Wanna meet at the same spot or should I come get you

I’ll be there in 10, be in the front

I been getting what I need so imma give you what you want

One on one cuz you know how to talk to dog

You walk the dog and understand that New York is hard

Monica(DMX)

You aint gotta go home tonight

You can stay right here with me (I aint goin nowhere when you wake up im gonna be right there)

Don’t you worry bout a thing (I aint worried about shit)

You’re here with me (Look its like I love my wife We going through things and I aint going home tonight alright)

Figure 2:

ME WHIPPIN' THAT BITCH'S ASS! And you know what ya'll? I don't give a damn!!!

People always ask, "Well, why would you be mad at the female? Shouldn't you check your man?" My answer? OF COURSE you should check your man...right after you whip some ass. My thing is this: if a female doesn't know about me then fine, but if she KNOWS DAMN WELL that he is my man then I have a big problem with that. I'm not gonna lie. I have messed around with a couple of guys with girlfriends. The first time I was unaware that he was involved...until the girl came and snatched my damn ponytail while I was walking down the street. It was a set up to get wet up from the beginning. Remember this day Somi? LMAO! LMAO! The girlfriend lived two doors down from the guy. Obviously, had I known she was with him I would've never been at his house...but anyway. The second time, I can admit, I was being a stupid bitch. It wasn't right, but damn if it wasn't worth it. I definitely don't regret it...just wouldn't do it again, at least not like that. The last time was an exception to the rule for so many reasons...not the least of which is that I Loooooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeee(d) him (<--with a capital L). I won't go into detail so as not to hurt the innocent, but yeah. That last time was worth it too and I wouldn't take it back even if I could. However, that situation really reinforced that what goes around really does come back around. No joke. I wasn't put in that same situation but I tell you I went through some shit with this guy and I KNOW that's why.

Long story short: I finally learned my lesson. I would never, knowingly, be that other woman again. NEVER. I can't imagine why Monica thought it was a good idea to put her voice to this song. Some of the most ig'nant ass shit I ever heard. "You ain't gotta go home tonight." Triflin' bitch...what about his damn kids? You know...let me just stop. Otherwise, I will go on forever. DMX look what happened to your ass for not goin' home to your damn wife. You've been all in the newspapers, magazines, AND court houses to pay child support for a child you would have never had if you did what was right.

It's never cute to be that chick on the side. Nor is it ever cute for a man to tell you he "loves" his woman, when he's in the bed with you. These men betta eitha get right or get fuckin' left!

I Don't Need No Introduction and Shit...

Hello all...or whoever is reading. I am currently a student, at ODU in Virginia, pursuing a degree in English. At 16 I became the mother of a phenomenal little girl. She is truly the light of my life. (cliche' i know...but seriously) I admit, it gets extremely hard being a mother sometimes. Not because my girl is a terror, but because I'm young. I don't know what it feels like to be twenty-something and just get up and go. I never really got to experience a truly independent, live for yourself, do what the hell you want lifestyle. When I explain to her the reasons she should wait for marriage to have a baby that will be my main point. I'm going to tell her to enjoy her life...on her own terms. Live however fast or slow she wants to, because when you become a mother (a good one) a lot of shit stops. Most of it for the good, but who the hell cares when you're young?


A little about myself. I love to read and as such I will probably "talk" a lot about what I read. I am a book fanatic, but I also read magazines, blogs, and pretty much anything else with words. I feel like reading is a sure way to enhance vocabulary, broaden aspects on a variety of things, educate, and enlighten the mind. Bottom line: Buy me a book and maybe we can be friends.


If I could choose one talent I would definitely choose art. I've always imagined myself in this big ass, Manhattan studio. The studio had a side for my reading and writing (which I am also passionate about but I don't do it nearly enough), and a side for my painting, sketching, scultpting...I would be hard at work when my dream man (who looks something like Idris Elba)

comes into my studio (the man is so on that he got a key ya'll), grabs me from behind, and gives me kisses all over my neck and shoulders. Idris -ahem- Dream Man would look at the piece I'm working on and give me his feedback, which is always positive 'cuz he loves his boo. I'd stand there looking cute in one of his old, button-ups, paint smeared on my cheek. I don't know ya'll, it was just a dream. Or a vision, rather, of how my life would be if only I could paint.

Hate to cut this short, but I just got back from Florida and I'm tired as tired can be.