Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Soooooooo its almost Christmas, I'm making a list and checking it twice!!!

I know Santa's supposed to do that but it cant hurt to both make and check!!!

Stay posted! I figured it would be easier for you all to have one list at your easy convenience for referencing so I didn't end up with more than one of the same Nicole Miller dress!

And just so you all know, I totally appreciate you all skipping that student loan payment to get my Christmas gift!

Remember what goes around comes around!!!


Merry Christmas!

The folks you meet on a NY street.

So, I know NY is different from Richmond. Different in a number of ways.
-There are bags for your drinks at the fast food places
-Every store has two floors (The Grocery Store, Forever 21, Arden B, Every store!)
-People talk on their phones while their at work, dealing with customers(like Walgreen's)
-NY people say "On Line" when they mean "In line"
-You buy your live Christmas tree on the street, right across from the Duane Reid and the local chicken/burger spot
-The bus doesn't take dollar bills
-You ride the bus


I could go on for days but the most interesting and different part about NY is the things that NY people feel so comfortable with saying and sharing with you.

Two examples....




Example 1.

So, apparently dark skinned women are a commodity in NY. I see them everywhere but for whatever reason, the men in NY loose their minds.... really. Ive been called everything in the book for my complexion..."bottle of a boot", black, smokey the bear, midnight, spook, and I'm not even really that dark. Ive grown to love it and apparently some residents of NY do to. My roommate Kim makes fun of me because I often get called "Chocolate" by men(some homeless, some dusty). They make a point to pipe up in their loudest voice to proclaim that I have "beautiful skin, hair, legs (the legs confuse me...i think they just talkin shit)" Now normally all this is great because a VA dude just doesn't have the balls, but there's always one to spoil it for the bunch.

I'm walking around 5th ave near 17th, checking out the holiday sets and just having some me time when I walk past this guy that yells at me
"Take your chocolate ass home!"
now... I'm of course startled and confused and scared and cant decide if I need to run or give him a "fuck you muthafucka" look and keep it gangsta. I however choose to just look confused. He proceeds

" I like em' dark... umph.... The blacker the berry, the sweeter the pussy!"

He prompts

"right?...... Right???"

I run.


Example 2.

I'm at Starbucks after a usually wack ass day at Bloomingdale's. I love working at the SOHO store because I see lots of characters on the way to and from work. There are the black folks who have chosen to revive the regalia of the 80's including HUGE doorknocker earrings, bright colors, and yes, even stone washed jeans, the kinda hippie Anthropologie/LL Bean/Salvation Army(cant believe I just named that like its a brand) folks and the rude ass spatially challenged tourist laden with shopping bags, talkin loud as hell, and looking at the sky or either end of Broadway trying to find their way out. So I'm at Starbucks and the barista proceeds to take my order and while I am clearly at the register this women walks up to my barista while talking on the phone. Shes talking so loud I cant really remember what the hell I was ordering but I finally get it out and proceed to pay. My barista ask my name and I reply.

"Brown"

The lady has finished her conversation at this point and turns to me (because she doesn't understand that you should stand behind me not beside me, because its my damn turn)

"Really, your name is Brown?"

I respond casually and kinda not interested "Yeah"

She checks once more "Brown?"

My barista cant hear me...because of loud hoe...and I confirm the name "Brown, Like the color" to both of them.

Rude Hoe responds " That's perfect!"

Me really just interested in getting some spiced cider, keeps it moving " Its a really common name, I'm surprised you've never heard of it."

My barista roles his eyes ( and hes not the eye rolling type) and says, "yeah really common!" kinda angry like.

I proceed to the end of the bar to pick up my cider( with the caramel and whip cream...so good!) and barista 2 gives me this half laugh/half shaking head look and not until then do I realize why my last name is sooooooo perfect!

Now considering this hoe is clearly crazy to say some out the way shit like that 1. aloud and 2. to an even crazier hoe like myself, I decide that tonight is not lecture night, tonight is not educate the masses night and of all nights that it is not, its not show her ass why my name is so perfect because I'm bout to be just as "brown" as your stereotype of "brown" people is!

I run

this time from ignorance, or both times from ignorance, the second being just a little more sad. I know I can say some out the way shit, hell, I say it right here on this blog, but that was some serious socially offensive behavior...... or just so New York type shit.

Interesting Article: The Black KKK killed Sean Taylor

Taylor's death a grim reminder for us all

by Jason Whitlock

There's a reason I call them the Black KKK. The pain, the fear and the destruction are all the same.

Someone who loved Sean Taylor is crying right now. The life they knew has been destroyed, an 18-month-old baby lost her father, and, if you're a black man living in America, you've been reminded once again that your life is in constant jeopardy of violent death.

The Black KKK claimed another victim, a high-profile professional football player with a checkered past this time.

No, we don't know for certain the circumstances surrounding Taylor's death. I could very well be proven wrong for engaging in this sort of aggressive speculation. But it's no different than if you saw a fat man fall to the ground clutching his chest. You'd assume a heart attack, and you'd know, no matter the cause, the man needed to lose weight.

Well, when shots are fired and a black man hits the pavement, there's every statistical reason to believe another black man pulled the trigger. That's not some negative, unfair stereotype. It's a reality we've been living with, tolerating and rationalizing for far too long.

When the traditional, white KKK lynched, terrorized and intimidated black folks at a slower rate than its modern-day dark-skinned replacement, at least we had the good sense to be outraged and in no mood to contemplate rationalizations or be fooled by distractions.
Our new millennium strategy is to pray the Black KKK goes away or ignores us. How's that working?

About as well as the attempt to shift attention away from this uniquely African-American crisis by focusing on an alleged injustice the white media allegedly perpetrated against Sean Taylor.
Within hours of his death, there was a story circulating that members of the black press were complaining that news outlets were disrespecting Taylor's victimhood by reporting on his troubled past.

No disrespect to Taylor, but he controlled the way he would be remembered by the way he lived. His immature, undisciplined behavior with his employer, his run-ins with law enforcement, which included allegedly threatening a man with a loaded gun, and the fact a vehicle he owned was once sprayed with bullets are all pertinent details when you've been murdered.

Marcellus Wiley, a former NFL player, made the radio circuit Wednesday, singing the tune that athletes are targets. That was his explanation for the murders of Taylor and Broncos cornerback Darrent Williams and the armed robberies of NBA players Antoine Walker and Eddy Curry.

Really?

Let's cut through the bull(manure) and deal with reality. Black men are targets of black men. Period. Go check the coroner's office and talk with a police detective. These bullets aren't checking W-2s.

Rather than whine about white folks' insensitivity or reserve a special place of sorrow for rich athletes, we'd be better served mustering the kind of outrage and courage it took in the 1950s and 1960s to stop the white KKK from hanging black men from trees.

But we don't want to deal with ourselves. We take great joy in prescribing medicine to cure the hate in other people's hearts. Meanwhile, our self-hatred, on full display for the world to see, remains untreated, undiagnosed and unrepentant.

Our self-hatred has been set to music and reinforced by a pervasive culture that promotes a crab-in-barrel mentality.

You're damn straight I blame hip hop for playing a role in the genocide of American black men. When your leading causes of death and dysfunction are murder, ignorance and incarceration, there's no reason to give a free pass to a culture that celebrates murder, ignorance and incarceration.

Of course there are other catalysts, but until we recapture the minds of black youth, convince them that it's not OK to "super man dat ho" and end any and every dispute by "cocking on your bitch," nothing will change.

Does a Soulja Boy want an education?

HBO did a fascinating documentary on Little Rock Central High School, the Arkansas school that required the National Guard so that nine black kids could attend in the 1950s. Fifty years later, the school is one of the nation's best in terms of funding and educational opportunities. It's 60 percent black and located in a poor black community.

Watch the documentary and ask yourself why nine poor kids in the '50s risked their lives to get a good education and a thousand poor black kids today ignore the opportunity that is served to them on a platter.

Blame drugs, blame Ronald Reagan, blame George Bush, blame it on the rain or whatever. There's only one group of people who can change the rotten, anti-education, pro-violence culture our kids have adopted. We have to do it.

According to reports, Sean Taylor had difficulty breaking free from the unsavory characters he associated with during his youth.

The "keepin' it real" mantra of hip hop is in direct defiance to evolution. There's always someone ready to tell you you're selling out if you move away from the immature and dangerous activities you used to do, you're selling out if you speak proper English, embrace education, dress like a grown man, do anything mainstream.

The Black KKK is enforcing the same crippling standards as its parent organization. It wants to keep black men in their place — uneducated, outside the mainstream and six feet deep.
In all likelihood, the Black Klan and its mentality buried Sean Taylor, and any black man or boy reading this could be next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, Im not very familiar with the case beyond what detailed here(which is clearly partial and positioned), nor am I familiar with these football figures but the theory that he tries to prescribe could fit a number of cases that I am far more familiar with.

I do agree that hip hop can perpetuate some violent imagery but a very important point that he failed to address is the parental component. My sister LOVES Tupac, my other sister LOVES Prince, yet neither of them grew up to be thugs or freaks!

He did however make a great point that upon your death you are remembered by the life you lead. That reigns true no matter what you do, but it is also important to remember that your parents equipe you with a guard agaist allowing peers and media influences to define you, but without that guard you are subject to following the example set.

Finally, I have to say I too was taken aback when I realized exactly what supermanning the hoe was all about. It could easily mean rescuing her from harms way with your super human strength folks!!! However, I do feel that if he would like to quote Soulja Boy he should do so correctly... its "Bitch ASS" not simply bitch.... Theres a difference Jason !!!

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Sisters:
A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter. 'Don't forget your Sisters,' she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. 'They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them.' 'Remember that 'Sisters' means ALL the women... your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. 'You'll need other women. Women always do.' What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!' But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about. As time and nat ure work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, Sisters are the mainstays of her life. After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:

Time passes.

Life happens.

Distance separates.

Children grow up.

Jobs come and go.

Love waxes and wanes.

Men don't do what they're supposed to do.

Hearts break.

Parents die.

Colleagues forget favors.

Careers end.

BUT.... Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach. When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you...Or come in and carry you out. Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers, Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life! The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much would need each other.

Every day, we need each other still.

Pass this on to all the women who help make your life meaningful. I just did. Short and very sweet: There are more than twenty angels in this world. Ten are peacefully sleeping on clouds. Nine are playing. And one is reading her email at this moment. Send this message to ten of your friends including me. If you get 5 replies, someone you love will surprise you. Happy days! Don't break this; it's working

So Danielle sent me this, and how timely considering her (along with Erica and Andrea) recent visit to the NYC. I wasnt sure what to do with them. I spent a few weeks trying to figure out what to do and still didnt come up with much. I wanted to show them the city and show them all the amazing things that Ive discovered but I didnt know how to go about it with 2 who wanted to paint the town and 1expecting, which technically makes her count twice, I barely had the time to think! They got in kinda late and while we missed our dinner reservations at Joya we made it work in the apt with my 100% Trader Joes cuisine! The weekend was great and we had a good time just being in NY but the best times were us just sitting around talking. GOD, what I wouldnt give for a good old fashion Pow Wow! I mean a true Pow Wow including The regulars, me, Erin, Sam, Krystal. The commentary crew, Shannon, Erica, and Andrea. The Dynamic, Joycelyn. & The Voices of Reason Danielle and Baby K! I mean whats a girl gotta do to get her crew back together???? At the rate school is going I'll be hospitalized soon and maybe they'll turn out to cheer me up before I pass. Killing myself??? Yeah I am, all for a "Generally Good" . Anyway, QT was great especially dinner at Sylvias with Julee. Politics and baby names of fried catfish was comforting like a hug from LRGB herself! OK Andrea, we promise not to vote along party lines alone .....and Erica we understand that your poor... (says the two time home owner, thats expecting the heiress to the Ralph Lauren (or Laren, or La'ren..whatever) throne!)

The worst part though had to be the departure. It didnt hit me until I hailed that cab that"Hey I miss these girls!" I balled, like a 1st grader that missed the bus. It was awful, and still is. It made me remember people, like my sister, my other friends, my nieces and nephews, my boo, and ohhh my mom. Shit....... I need a hug. Considering I wont be home for any of the holidays.... none of them, I better get more pillows!

So Im reading Danielles forward and considering all the life going on around me and though forwards are such a cliche' the words become so meaningful and again I ball( its my new thing apparently) as I press foward. Dont get it twisted, I still keep it gangsta, dont think I sent that message to you bitches because I love you or something!

...and by bitches I totally mean "Sisters"

Smooches