Pimpin Is Prissy

Rarely does Sean Combs say anything that leaves an impression on me. However, I have to give it to him for "bitchassness". It's running rampant in our communities and many seem to be embracing it as a way of life. I find one of the worst perpetrators of this newly coined phenomenon to be pimps. Yep, you read it right. I'm talking about pimps in general and the "fans" who seem to think being a pimp is the ultimate vocation and a prime example of what a man's man is. He wears the latest pimp finery, he drives a flashy car, and he has a bunch of women fawning over him and waiting to meet his every need. They even give him every dime they earn. I suppose a lot of non-pimping men think, "What's there not to like or admire about a pimp?" Well, that's why I'm here. I am going to tell everyone that being a pimp really isn't all that great or manly.

As stereotypical as it may be, when I see a man walking down the street dressed in a fluorescent color from head to toe, with perfectly coiffed hair caressing his shoulders, and a full length mink coat, I don't think he's on his way to a convention for macho men. Instead, I see a man who appears to be on his way to a convention for female impersonators. I don't like men who look like women but think they are manly. Are you kidding me? How manly can a pimp be when he has a flat iron, long fingernails covered with fiberglass and clear polish, and is drinking from a cup clearly made for an eight year old girl's tea party? That's manly? I don't see this as an example of what a real man should be. I see it as BITCHASSNESS at its best.

Regardless of the evidence of many things effeminate present in the swagger of a pimp, men and women alike admire this guy and many secretly wish to be like him. However, I'm trying to figure out how appearing as a clown in all aspects became the thing to which people aspire. Of course, this isn't the first memo I've missed. I keep wondering how we got to the point where a man who clearly hates women (probably because he isn't one), disrespects himself, his community, and his "employees", who capitalizes off of people when they are in their worst states of mind, and has absolutely no grasp of fashion, became the poster child for manliness. What happened to admiration for well-read men who respect themselves and those around them and who make personal integrity the ultimate goal to be achieved? Was there even really a time like that or am I just imagining again? Real or imagined, I'd love to see this happen today. Out with the bitchassness so we can let the real men through.

Thirty Dollars For Thirty Blessings

Alright already with the Jesus spam. Trust me, few love Jesus as much as I do. I think He's the absolute of all things good, right, and pure. However, if it's one thing I can't stand, it's Jesus spam. "Jesus wanted me to tell you He's sending a blessing your way", "God wants you to send this stupid email to forty of your closest friends", "If you close your eyes for thirty seconds after reading this email, you'll see one of God's angels". Give me a break please. Seriously. I'll be the first to admit that I believe God talks to me. Sometimes He gives me what I need to hear directly or through others. But I can safely say that in my thirty plus years Jesus has NEVER sent me a blessing because I forwarded a corny email to forty eight other unfortunate souls. It's bad enough that I get fictitious missing person reports, riddles that I never have the answer to even after I forward the email to ten of my friends, and articles featuring the country's dumbest criminals. Now I have to deal with Jesus spam and the fact that I may fail Him and the entire human race if I don't send Rev. So and So $500. I love Jesus. I really do, but I think that if he had a My Space page, he'd rarely visit it and he certainly wouldn't spend a bunch of time emailing people and sending them on fruitless missions. He'd be too busy saving souls. Perhaps those who send me Jesus spam should aspire to do the same.

Alex Trebek Should Shut Up

Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved Jeopardy. Something about being able to answer some random questions that no human being should be able to answer tickles me. Plus, I like to look at the nerds who tend to be in the contestant pool and try to figure out how many friends they have or don't have due to their lack of anything better to do and how many times they've been jumped, "pantsed", or thrown in garbage cans. Of all the evenings after work or school that I've sat down and watched the show, I became the most annoyed yesterday. As is often the case , all three contestants were neck and neck with scores. In final Jeopardy, the first two contestants didn't have the correct answer. The returning champion, however, had the answer correct. Instead of Alex just congratulating the man on his win, he had to take a moment to point out the fact that the man spelled the last name of the individual incorrectly. I wanted the man to just say, "Look mofo, I just won $30,000 sheerly based on the fact that my head is crammed with useless tidbits of information thereby giving me some leeway to fail to spell a name correctly. Hell, with this here money, I can buy a $30,000 corrective pen. What do you have to say about that jerk-off?". Of course, the man didn't say this. He said nothing. Sure, we're all smart with a handful of index cards with the answers written on them. Just once I'd like to see how nifty Alex is after dropping all his trusty cards on the floor. Not such a Smarty Art now, huh, Alex? Just once I wish someone would put that smug and annoying fool in his place. I got your Jeopardy, Alex. And it's right here.

It Wasn't Like This When I Left Home, I Swear!

I left home this morning feeling kinda cute. My outfit was on point (or so I thought) and I tried something different with my hair that I thought was cute. I left the house feeling good and a little proud of myself for making the extra effort which I rarely do for work (who wants to get dressed up for a bunch of old fat guys anyway). I spent most of the day sitting in my cell, or cubicle, depending on who you ask. About an hour before my work day ended, I went into the restroom and took a look in the mirror at what I thought was my handiwork. I LOOKED A MESS. My hair looked like I needed an appointment in the very worst way. My eyes looked puffy and tired like I hadn't slept in two days. My skin looked dry which made the makeup in my bag desperately call out to me and my outfit made me look fat. I was shocked to say the least. I kept trying to figure out the difference between the lighting at my house and the lighting at work and what kind of evil force in my car or cubicle made me go from sugar to shit in just a few short hours. I mean, was I that disillusioned that I could think I was cute in the comfort of my own home but later learn that I really looked a mess in the public eye? What the hell happened to me and why didn't my coworker pull me to the side to to tell me that I looked like I just rolled over and showed up for the party? After careful consideration, I've decided that in order to avoid further fashion humiliation, I need to hire myself an Overall Look Improver. This person with his/her amazing attention to details will give me the once over prior to me leaving the house in the morning followed by a midday review right after lunch. I can't go wrong with the extra help. I obviously can't do it for myself but I may be able to do it for others. I'm currently taking applications.

It Isn't Cute

When I look around me at what's happening in the world, I often ask the question, "Just what the hell is going on here?" Once again, I found myself asking it this morning. I was reading the "news" and came across an article talking about how Jamie Lynn Spears, teenage mom extraordinaire, is on the cover of OK Magazine (again) posing with her brand new baby. The heading read, "Being a mom is the best feeling in the world!" and shows Jamie Lynn holding her baby and wearing an ugly, old lady dress (I guess that was supposed to make her seem conservative or wholesome). I stared at the picture for a long time shaking my head because I couldn't understand A) when being a teenaged mom became cute B) when a teenaged girl living with and making a baby with an adult male became acceptable C) when it became alright to be in the two previous mentioned scenarios as long as one has plenty of money.

Where I came from, being a teenage mother was never the cool thing to do. We didn't high-five and idolize girls who got pregnant when I was in jr. high and high school. While we may have continued friendships, we definitely resolved to not end up in the same situation and we certainly never celebrated the impending pregnancy of our teenaged friends as though the event was the best thing that could have happened to her. If a friend announced she was pregnant, we were all instantly sad and at sixteen I certainly did not have the wherewithal to go out and purchase a bunch of baby gifts. Hell, at that age, I didn't even know what a registry was let alone a binky. Now many girls seem to get excited at the possibility of being pregnant. They become rock stars with 9 month contracts guaranteeing their high status while young boys walk around chest butting each other as if depositing sperm into a young girl is some amazing feat. Now this problem has traveled from the hood to the mainstream and has suddenly become acceptable. A teen aged mother is on the cover of a magazine holding her baby and smiling as if she has not a care in the world and because she's young and wealthy, it's cute. While I don't think she should ever be ashamed of her child, I do not in any way find this scenario attractive. Even less attractive is the fact that she is now living with her grown-man boyfriend while raising said baby.

At which point is everyone going to be angry about the fact that this under aged girl is not only now a mother, but is "engaged" to a boy who had been having sex with her illegally? When did it become okay for a then sixteen year old girl to move in with her nineteen year old boyfriend? Was there something I missed? Having a baby has never made a girl a grown up and the last I checked, she's still a minor and should therefore have her baby-bearing ass at home until her mother has filled her legal obligation to raise her. Letting the girl play house with a grown man doesn't at all seem to be the thing a good mother would do as far as I can see. Maybe I'm holding on to common sense and old-fashioned values a little too hard...but I doubt it. Unfortunately, these days it seems as though standards are less important than money.

The recurring point I come across is that the entire situation is cool because, after all, she has lots of money to support the child. To me, this way of thinking completely disregards the real issues. Teen pregnancy has never been a problem simply because of money. Furthermore, while money is needed in order to take care of a child's basic needs, it doesn't prepare a sixteen or seventeen year old for parenthood. Money buys things but unfortunately, there still hasn't been a way found to use money to buy wisdom, knowledge, maturity/, or common sense, all of which are needed to raise a child. Money won't change a teen parent's age, life experience, or mental capacity to understand what it means to be permanently responsible for the well-being of another person.

I wish the double standard between teen moms with money and those without a pot to piss in were eradicated. It's never the best look for a child to have a baby as a teenager. Sure, there will always be those who make different choices that lead to pregnancy. However, these choices should not be celebrated.

Does TV Make You Dumb?

Just recently I heard my coworker say in her most superior voice, "I don't watch a lot of tv. It doesn't even occur to me to come home and turn it on because there are so many other things I could be doing". Well, I thought, good for you but who really cares? What makes one feel that watching less tv implies that one is smarter, better, and wiser than the average bear? While I certainly don't consider myself a tv junkie, one of the first things I do after getting home is turn on my tv. My main motivation is my desire to see if anything major is happening and to assure that I don't have to run and hide under my kitchen table. Hell, sometimes it's even so I can catch one of my favorite shows. Television is so many things to me. It can be fun, educational, and entertaining. It can incite fear, tears of happiness, tears from pain, and even laughter. I would even go so far as to say that in some cases, tv can change one's life. Even though I'm not bound to my home by what may come on tv, I can comfortably say that I like and enjoy television and the last I checked, I'm far from a dummy. I watch tv just about every day and yet I manage to use complete sentences to write this blog. (By the way, a big part of the reason for that is the fact that I had a little Sesame Street in my life.) I guess I did all that fussing to say that tv doesn't make one dumber any more than not watching makes one smarter. The existence of balance and the constant pursuit of knowledge from all sources is ultimately what makes one smart. It is the lack thereof that breeds dummies.

Not The Mama

Does anyone besides me remember that show, Dinosaurs? Anyway, the baby dinosaur only loved his mother and since all of his points of reference came from her, he would call his father "Not The Mama" instead of dad. The mother never seemed to correct him. Lest my point escape me, I'll get right to it. Even though moms are about as good as you can get, fathers have an equally important role in positively impacting children. Unfortunately, in the age of absentee sperm donors and scorned mothers, the relevance of a father's role is often lost. This seems to cause a lot of women to think they can do it all. No doubt, single mothers have a hard way to go and they do way more than their fair share when it comes to raising the children. However, mothers are not fathers. I know it's probably not popular for me to say so, but I think it's wrong for a woman to say she was both a mother and a father to her children. I'm sorry to burst bubbles, but mommies can't be daddies and vice versa.

There was a specific plan in place when the family was designed and just as two people are required to create a life, those same two are required to nurture that life. I believe that both the mother and the father have duties that are specific to their genders. They have experiences and knowledge that only a mother or father could pass on to a child. It is when a child misses out on the presence of one or the other that a void is created. Certain information is missing. Certain experiences are lost and this negatively impacts the child. I think it also causes the child to be just as bitter as the single parent is.

I love my mother to death. I had a terrible, deadbeat father and am totally grateful that my mother was there to take care of me and attempt to pick up some of his slack. However, she mothered me. She didn't father me because she just couldn't. I missed some things due to his lack of interest or concern in being a parent. It certainly wasn't my mother's fault but I think some of it might have been had she spent those years raising me complaining and ranting about how she was a mother AND a father to me. My mom was one of the smart ones. She knew she mothered me like no other would or could and that mothering is what helped me turn out to be the fussing, ranting, complaining, blogger I am today. She also knew she wasn't being a dad to me.

I suppose I just think women, and men who single parent, need to think carefully about the words they say and what those words really imply. I'm sure there are ways to make one's children feel whole without inserting bitter opinions about his/her sorry other parent or an entire gender. There must be a method in which the primary caretaker can feel appreciated without negating the role of the other parent even if that presence is missing from the household. Just a thought.

Thumb Vacation

Have you ever been mid-text and almost dropped your phone due to thumb cramping? Well if you have, this is a sign that you, like me, may need to limit your text time. With all the alleged ways we use to have quicker and more convenient conversations (i.e. texting and IMs), I wonder if we have actually lost the ability to have a good verbal chat or to write a nice letter or email. While I am the first to admit that I don't much care for talking on the phone, I do still appreciate a personal touch to my conversations. And frankly, at this age, I don't appreciate having to use the little bit of thumb mobility I have left typing a note on a tiny keypad in order to avoid discussing real feelings via some other means of communicating. These days, thanks to those nifty text messages, all sorts of things seem to be handled through more impersonal methods.

People start and end relationships by text message. Booty calls are arranged by text (wow, isn't it at least worth dialing?) Students are beginning to use text language in school papers out of mere habit. Friends text entire conversations so as not to miss any of their favorite tv show. Jokes and dirty cartoons arrive via text messaging and even my mother can manage to send me a text even though she doesn't know much else about how her phone works. Even though I'm not in love with the idea of texting for everything all the time, I found myself texting recently while sitting in church. It seems to me as though this has gone from a way of relaying a quick message to an invasive and impersonal way of talking to those we claim to love. This leads me to wonder what happened to the personal touch. The touch that didn't involve a keypad on a cell phone.

I miss getting a good letter electronically or from the good old post office. I miss sentences complete with subject and predicate. I miss punctuation. I miss YOU instead of U. I mostly miss knowing that someone put some time, thought, and energy into a conversation with me. Somehow that seems to have gotten lost in the world of texting.

At this point I don't know if I'm just too old for texting or just old-fashioned. Whichever it is, I'd like to keep my texting to a minimum and my real talk to the maximum.

Lovin' It

After all the years gone by, I never thought it would happen but it finally did. Cupid got an arrow in me. I've been struck by the love bug. I'm all giddy. I have butterflies. I'm in love and not with just any man. I'm in love with the most amazing man ever . He's handsome, but not overwhelmingly so. He's the kind women notice but he's still just normal enough to keep them from swooning. He's in shape but not a gym rat. He's incredibly intelligent and well-read without a hint of pretentiousness. He's down for brunch or the greasiest of delights at the local greasy spoon. He listens without just pretending to do so. He talks but rarely without thinking first. He loves God but without the self-righteous, holy roller factor. He's a lover unlike any other only without the unnecessary bragging. He anticipates my needs yet isn't afraid to ask me what I want. He's unselfish with his time but never crowds me and he has no problem spending his money without the risk of being showy or frivolous. He's not just my lover, he's my best friend. Yes, I must say, he is the most amazing man. Now all I have to do is meet him.

Stifling Of Tomfoolery In The Theater Would Be Appreciated By All

Apparently I made a grave mistake on Friday morning when I decided to take in a movie to start off my July 4th holiday. Since the price of gas is so ridiculous I can't even speak the dollar amount out loud without feeling sick, I really did believe that I would be able to enjoy a quiet and entertaining time at the 10:30 a.m. show. I walked up to the booth, got myself a ticket, and proceeded into the theater. I picked the exact seat I wanted and sank down to enjoy the relaxation of a good movie. I started by enjoying a few movie quizzes and previews. Everything was lovely until, all the usual tomfoolery (which we all know I hate) that often accompanies a trip to see a movie, reared its ugly head. After some thought and an hour and a half of irritation, I decided it would be best to come up with a list containing my very own movie etiquette laws. Hopefully, those who can read, will take a look at this and try to adhere for the sake of others.

1. Stop bringing children under the age of ten to grown up movies. I mean, seriously, it is time to stop the insanity. Nobody thinks your baby is cute when he/she is jumping on seats, crying, talking loudly, crawling around on the floor, or asking a bunch of stupid questions. What makes you think I want to pay my money so that I can spend as many as three hours being annoyed by your brat? If you don't have a sitter, stay your ass at home and catch the movie on DVD. This is getting so out of hand. And stop looking at people crazy when they give you the stink eye for having your baby with you at the movies. In case you didn't know it, the movies are not the same as a daycare. Get it together people.
2. Find yourself a nice soft snack to eat. Who the hell decided that popcorn would be the perfect snack to eat during a movie when there is supposed to be silence? I hate it when a crucial point in the movie has been reached and the dialogue is missed because the schmuck beside you is crunching his popcorn as if it were his last meal before execution. When you feel the need for popcorn, eat a peanut butter cup instead.
3. Turn off your damn phone. A ringing phone is just as annoying as the chomping of popcorn if not worse. Also, if you should happen to forget to turn it off, have the decency to be embarrassed that it's ringing and turn it off. Do not answer the phone and start engaging the person in a conversation about how you're at the movies and yeah, it's pretty good, and yep, Andre is up there with you too but Lill Boo Boo couldn't make it 'cuz his baby's mom is trippin'. This just serves to make you appear dumber than you already look. Take my word for it and turn the phone off.
4. Don't show up to the movie fifteen minutes into it then decide you want to sit in the middle of a row causing ten people to be inconvenienced while you are trying to make your way to a seat. Get there on time and once you do, get your ass somewhere and sit down.
5. DO NOT repeat everything you heard said during the movie. Most of the people in the room heard it the first time and the last I checked, parrots are not welcome in movie theaters (even though whiny and fidgety babies are).
6. DO NOT have a conversation out loud about who you think the killer is. I don't pay money to guess. If I spend $10 for a movie, I don't want to do any guessing. I don't want to do anything but sit and watch the movie.

I hope these little tips on movie etiquette will help all those who read it. Thank you.