Author: Mitzi

Oh my god, is it just me or has the temperature dropped like 20 degrees in 2 minutes?? I always know that it’s officially winter when instead of sunshine on my face the sound of the extra loud hood radiator spewing project heat wakes me up in the mornings. Sigh… thermal underwear, dry skin, and sporadic nose bleeds soon come. Don’t be jealous.

But to be honest, I knew this moment was coming a couple of nights ago when I was standing around in some BK bar celebrating my Harlem homegirl/ workout partner Sharae’s dirty 30th bday and it was FREEZING inside there. I mean seriously? Why was it cold inside the spot? When good company and a couple glasses of cheap champagne don’t help to warm me up in the middle of a relatively full room of people (what you know about that Andre Champagne??), there’s freaking problem. I guess this is why so many folks get pregnant during the winters. ‘Cause mark my words- can’t nothing good happen outside the crib when it’s cold.

Stay warm people. Oh and if you get sick, no offense but puh-lease stay away from me.

So funny, back in the day I was right there with the 20% of the folks bringing home every new person that they were dating within the first 3 months. Seemed like every Juan, Rick and Lamar rolled into Elsa’s crib to say hello and give her a chance to lay eyes on them. But I had to cut that little habit out quick fast and in a hurry when my dearly beloved mother started unapologetically mixing up names, talking ’bout, “But Mitzi, you bring so many. How am I supposed to know?” Jesus.

So nowadays, like 45% of you, I’m all about the 6 months waiting period. That gives the boy just enough time to ditch the perfect ‘representative’ that shows up to wine and dine you for the first 3-5 months of the relationship (you know the period when he’s absolutely perfect until he gets comfortable) and Elsa just enough time to forget the ex’s name.

How-some-ever, as I get older, I swing more and more towards the more secretive side of the pendulum. And like the 25%, I’m starting to believe that there’s no need for anyone new to meet my people until after a year. Cause really, it’s hard out here. And hearing my mom tell me that there’s “something she doesn’t trust” about every single guy I bring around can be a little frustrating. It’s like, damn Elsa can’t you like anybody??

But there is a limitation to the stupidity. And I don’t know about the 10% of you who are waiting until there’s a ring. What if the person turns out to be a long lost relative or something? So now you’re kissing cousins? That’s so coal miner’s daughter… Or worse, the creep who’ll steal all our money and jilt you at the alter? Had your mom seen him/ her earlier, they probably could’ve foreseen all that. ‘Cause you know parents are ALWAYS right.

I know, I know, this poll question seemed like a no-win situation. Because realistically, for the majority of us bad credit and crazy co-parents are as my girl Nikki put it, “the equal deal breakers.”
But sometimes in life, we gotta make the hard choices… And don’t act like you haven’t run up on the cutie that made you want to change your religion until he/she explained that they can’t even purchase a new cell phone without a freaking $1500 security deposit or that the real reason they have 7 bolt locks on the door is b/c the ex keeps kicking it in. Mmm-hmmm…

Ultimately, it seems that if absolutely forced to make a choice, 54% of you considered crappy credit to be the worse of the two evils. Clearly current economic concerns are making us say “no thank you” to more than that new pair of Manolos, huh? Well, like that old R&B song said- ‘ain’t nothing going on without the rent.’ And quietly, nowadays you won’t even qualify to view let alone rent that exclusive Riverside Drive duplex penthouse suite, without stellar credit. Shoot, we can always lock up your ex but I ain’t got 10 years to wait on you to get your car out of your auntie’s name.

For the 46% willing to hire a fantastic financial advisor and hold your boo down till that money gets right, kudos. I definitely understand why you put your foot down on the crazy co-parent. Don’t nobody need the phone ringing all times of the night or want folks jumping out of bushes kamakazi style. Sometimes there’s just not enough room or group therapy in the world for three adults in one relationship. Unlike the terrorists who consider suicide bombing a ticket to heaven… everybody ain’t able.

Ruby keeps peeing on my doormat.

My next door neighbor owns this unruly little chihuahua named Ruby who apparently thinks my doormat is her tinkle spot. Sigh.
Gladys keeps trying to convince me that Ruby does this because she loves me. But somehow, I’m not buying that. Although I guess it could be worse… I could live 3 doors down where the doorway is apparently her poop drop. I wonder how Ruby feels about them?

I know, I know, you’re probably thinking, “Gross. Why doesn’t she just buy herself a new mat and keep it moving?” But let me ask you this, what’s the point of replacing it if Ruby is just going to strike again?? Huh, Sherlock?

My mom is always advising me, “Mitzi, you’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Fine. So I won’t go over there and shake the fire outta the little monster. (insert pout) But I am gonna need to figure out exactly how to diplomatically explain to my beloved neighbor- ’cause lord knows I love me some nosey Gladys who stays running off to a bingo game leaving behind her kindergarten dropout grandson, trifling 33 year-old son and the zoo of wild animals (she’s got 2 dogs, 3 cats, a snake, mice, birds, fish and a turtle in her tiny 2-bedroom apartment)- that this little habit of Ruby’s is not hot. At all.

Pray for me please.

When it comes to making the magic happen, it seems I’m not the only who thinks the second time had better be the charm. According to the first poll of the week, 44% of you were more than okay with cutting a partner off if the sex was still wack after an initial botched performance.

Interestingly, 33% admitted that you’d hang in between 3 to 9 attempts… Hmm, I wonder whether you’re the “talk it through-teach him/her what I like” kinds? And if so, how’s that really going for ya?

And God bless, the 16% of you who don’t think sex is important enough to end a good relationship over. Either you got a mean hand/toy game or your nerves are way better than the mine…

But hands down, three snaps in a circle for the 5% of you who were over it after the initial encounter. And my friends think I have little patience for mediocrity. You yes, are my heroes.

Is it me or does it seem like Beyonce drops a new album every six months? No bump that, every damn quarter??? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad at Mrs. Carter’s hustle but got-damn, can you please give us a chance to miss you? I mean just for a second?

How-sum-ever I can’t completely hate since I’m definitely feeling one of the two first singles. But just between you, me and the wall; doesn’t putting out TWO first singles seem like a lot?? It’s like, seriously, stop being such a overachiever, tell Papa Knowles to back off and decide which one you really want to release. Good grief.

And um, NO, I am most certainly not jamming on the ones to the poorly disguised 2008 mosh-remix of ‘Get Me Bodied’ and ‘Upgrade U’ a.k.a ‘Put A Ring On It.’ For the record, if Swizz Beats gets just one additional dime for selling her back the same track he serviced her with not once but two times before on the last go ’round; that man deserves a platinum plated pimp cup… oh wait, he already earned that when he bagged A-Keys.

Not to mention, how many ‘I’m an independent lady’ anthems can a girl who has been coupled with some of the wealthiest African-American men on the planet for the majority of her dating life really put out and expect us to believe?? I mean, call it intuition but something tells me Sean wasn’t talking about, let’s go dutch… But that’s just my opinion.

So anyhoo, on a more positive note I really like the ‘If I Were A Boy’ single. And it was definitely the artsy, blk/wht, trading places-esque themed, mini-saga/ music video that put a check in the win column for me. For the first time, I could actually see glimpses of her alleged acting chops. Of course, that probably had more to do with the fact that she spoke a grand total of four lines the entire five minutes and twenty seconds than any significant change. I’m just saying…

Check out the video and let me know what you think. Do you love the song? And more importantly, don’t you really love her super cute white co-star???:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVTyLqkez6A

So after 5 long days, I am happy to report that painter is finally gone. Like, gone, gone. Granted, whether his work can truly be considered “finished” is totally debatable but I’m just so happy not to see his hairy butt bent over my baseboards, I’ll take it.

Now the hard begins- putting everything back. Because of course, now that I can actually see the true size of my apartment sans all the 4 years of crap I shoved in every corner, I don’t want to put it all back.
But can I really just throw it out?? I mean, isn’t it like a sin to waste even if I know that I will never, ever, ever, ever listen to that Crunk Hits Volume#2 CD that I got for free when I was the Entertainment Editor/ Bottom Bee-yatch? And even worse, what if rhinestone covered miniskirts with matching bandeau tops come back in style? Sigh.
And even more pressing, let’s not forget about all the pictures and shelves that need to be put back up. Cause the ladies know- it’s not like back in the day when you could call any of the many men in your life to come over and they’d instinctively know how to help. Right about now, the only thing guys seem to know how to tighten is in the bedroom and unfortunately, the satisfaction on that isn’t always guaranteed.
Personally, I think Oprah should start some sort of service center, website, or 1-800-number that overwhelmed women like myself can call. You know like, 1-800-HELP-A-HO (or something catchy like that). And then, I could just rent a man that’s got the necessary skills with a screwdriver and hammer to put my life back together all for the price of a smile and home-cooked meal. Yeah, that’s exactly what she should do…
Until then, maybe I’ll just leave everything exactly where it is and learn to love the little nook in that I’ve created in the middle of my living room. Thoughts?

Well at least I know that I’m not the only who has given up trying to sustain the sexy 24/7… Like myself, 42% of you guys feel comfortable enough to break out the comfy cotton from the very beginning of the relationship; $70 La Perla nylon lace thongs be damned.
And while I respect the gangsta of the 14% of you still figuring out ways to stay in a thong or even the silk panties for the duration (or at least until you get that proposal and crossover to the other side), it seems everybody ain’t able.
And just to clarify for the nonbelievers, comfy does not mean grandma. My low rise cotton bikini drawers are SUPER cute… even if they’re not always an exact, exact match with the bra. Oh and trust, when the outfit or mood calls for it the kid is the first one logging on to http://www.trashy.com/ (can I get an amen?)
However, for the most part my butt just wants to be held… and supported properly. And like momma always says-to own box be true (but nothing keeps the GYN away like a pair of breathable cotton undies).

Don’t forget to log on and vote in the next poll!!!

So apparently, things are going to take a little longer than the painter originally predicted and BIG SURPRISE, he won’t actually complete the job until about Monday afternoon (read: Drama and I will be camped out in my bedroom underneath an apartment’s worth of shit for the rest of the weekend).
I sure hope that when it’s all said and done, this whole convoluted attempt to change the energy in my space brings a whole lot of productivity and cute boys with it. I’m just saying.

Yes, I am aware of the fact that the world economy is going to hell in a hand basket. Yes, I realize that there are people losing their homes and chunks of life savings in a matter of moments. And yes, I know that at time like this we should all be buckling down and getting focused on the things in life that truly matter… But err-um, not for nothing, this morning all I wanna talk about is Britney.

Seriously, how excited am I to waste 90 minutes of my life watching this upcoming MTV “documentary” on the trainwreck that has been the former Mousekateer’s life for the last two years??? Tentatively titled, ‘For The Record: Britney Spears, the doc follows Brit-Brit on her comeback trail and promises to address about what had happened to America’s favorite Pinhead Pop Star. As Ms. Spears (if you nasty) so eloquently explains the super-duper extended brain fart during which she chopped off her hair, attacked the paparazzi with an umbrella, showed up at every event possible in a pair of brown knee-highs boots from the local Sunset Blvd Goodwill, traded underwear with strippers, performed at the MTV Awards hopped up on every sedative known to man and but of course, lost custody of her kids to the dirties white boy on the planet: “I’m a smart person, what the hell was I thinking?” I don’t Brit know but I surely plan to find out.

Oh and no, I don’t give a damn if the whole this is being orchestrated by her handler/ publicist/ manager/ personal savior Larry Rudolph (read: ain’t nothing but an over-edited bunch of lies to brainwash us into buying her new album). The fact that there’s a shot of her sans extensions preparing to have a wig slapped on shown in the trailer is enough to make MY LIFE!!!

MTV, November 30th, 10pm. It’s Britney, BEE-YATCH!!
http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1596736/20081009/spears_britney.jhtml


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