Mitzi Moments

Author: Mitzi

it was so big…

By on May 17, 2008 in going to hell in a handbasket

It took almost seven hours but I finally made it to Phoenix, Arizona. I’m so excited to be somewhere that 90 degrees and straight sunshine in considered a cool day; I don’t know what to do with myself. Oh wait, yes I do, I went and worked poolside.

When the sun finally went down, I headed over to Chase Stadium to check out the Arizona Diamond Backs play the Detroit Tigers (wearing my Yankees cap of course). Can I just tell you? I had the biggest case of stadium envy! It was so modern and clean compared to Yankee Stadium; I almost didn’t know to act. The fans were all orderly and polite (read: uninteresting). There were fireworks whenever a player hit a homerun. and even when they (unfortunately) rallied in the 7th to beat the Tiger 4-3, there was very little gloating or tomfoolery.

Got to be honest, not sure I like that.

I sure hope that when the new Yankee Stadium opens up next season, people don’t start to act so civilized that I can’t catch a mom losing her mind over a lame play while feeding her 7 year old kid a hotdog. Yeah, I said it.

they really like it…

By on May 14, 2008 in keep hope alive

This morning I had my first official book signing/ reading for HOTLANTA. Denene flew up from Atlanta and we spoke to about thrity high school students from two different schools in Brooklyn at the Brooklyn Public Library in Grand Army Plaza (the ones in the picture are from a private school and the rest were from a local public school).

Omigod, it was so fun!! I love me some opinated teenagers! Those kids are hilarious and the things that make them happy are so silly. It was really nice to hear feedback about the story- which characters they liked, hated, didn’t understand…But most of all, it gave me the motivation to keep writing. Because as many of you know, I have been having the harest time concentrating on this thrid installment of the series. Sigh. Maybe this writing for a living thing ain’t all bad…

the people you really need to know…

By on May 12, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

Praise the Lord, I have finally made friends with the girl who works at the Dunkin Doughnuts across the street from my house!!! WOO HOO!! When I say I feel like I won the fraking lotto, I kid you not.

You see, for the self employed, the DD girl is the equivilant to the ladies in the cafe at a corporate office. When they like you, all sorts of good things happen. At JANE, I used to get free juice and extra fries. Not to mention, the occasional bag of gummy bears. Now, I’m receiveing a friendly smile and a free chocolate frosted with sprinkles. YUMMY!!!
Sure this friendship is the undoing of all the hours that I spend running to my death on the threadmill but who doesn’t like free?

my cell phone gives me high blood pressure…

By on May 9, 2008 in keep hope alive

It’s certified, I have the absolutely worst PDA luck in the world. After less than a month, the $300 phone that I finally upgraded to b/c everyone insisted it would make my life less stressful started to act up- the light would go out in the middle of typing an email, the icons freeze, the oh-so-addictive game was on the blink and the ringers didn’t work. Go figure.

So like any savy consumer who paid way too much for a product, I immediately take the phone back to the store where I bought. Sounds simple, right? Wrong. Customer service in the Sprint store on 34th street is a nighmare of incompetency. I lost FOUR hours of my life trying to get a new phone despite the fact that there I was only one of three customers in the store. But wait on it, I get home and realize the internet service is jacked up!!!

Now everytime I send a message from my handset, a copy of it gets delivered to my inbox (almost as if I’d cc’d myself on the message). AND, when I send an email from my computer at home (because Gmail is the primary email account on the phone), I get a message from there on the handset as well. It’s ridiculous. I spent THREE hours on the phone with the Blackberry customer rep for her to come to the conclussion that there’s a malfunction with the handset and I need to GO BACK to Sprint and get another phone.

I almost vomited in my mouth. Reduce stress? This damn phone has me on the verge of a breakdown. I want to pitch it across the room or even better at the half way illiterate chick who sold it to me. Oh my goodness, I completley and totally understand Naomi right now…

Does anybody have a Blackberry where their Gmail account its the default account? And if so, CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME????? I sewar, if I have to go back to that Sprint store on a Saturday, I very well might commit suicide.

will you sing with the choir…

By on May 8, 2008 in going to hell in a handbasket

Is it just me or are Black men between 30 to 38 years old, looking grossly out of shape nowadays? Like seriously, can a sister get some washboard abs and tight pecs in her life without dating a professional athlete? Or recent parolee?

Now don’t get me wrong, as my close friends will quickly attest, over the years I have been known to find all kinds of men attractive- tall, short, slim, even juicy… BUT there’s a limitation to the stupidity. And when the extra smedium button-up shirt is straining against the double D man-boobs and those birthing hips are so pronounced that the most expensive suit in the world can’t hide the swaying movement, it’s a wrap. And you know what I’m talking about dammit!!

Say it with me now…

NO MORE SLOPPY BODY BOYS!!!

my hair hates me…

By on May 7, 2008 in tapped out

Sigh, I’m having a really bad hair moment. My ‘fro is fighting me at every step and I’m really starting to think that that this whole natural hair thing is for the birds. Yeah, I siad it- it might be time to slap a good old fashioned perm up in this nappy head of mine.
I am sick and tired of losing an hour and a half of my life combing this hot ass mess out. Not to mention what it does to my carpal tunnel. I get out of the shower feeling like a cripple. It’s crazy.
And let’s not talk about all these new gray hairs are popping up. I really don’t want to dye my hair but if I see one more gray hair, I’m going to scream. My mom rationalized the newest patch that just sprouted up in the front of my head by saying that I’m 32 and that’s what happens when you get old. Geez, thanks Elsa.
Honestly, I think I need a good haircut but my lazy ass likes to pull my hair up in a ponytail. Can’t do the pony puff without the length. Besides, I’m afraid that if I go into the salon feeling funky and undecisive, I might come out with no hair at all.
Perhaps I need suggestions. What color do you think I should dye my hair? Should I perm it? Maybe I should just wear a dramatic Beyonce-esque weave for a little while until I decide what I want to do… holler at the kid.

let us bow our heads…

By on April 30, 2008 in keep hope alive

Last night I mistakenly left one of the blinds in my bedroom partially open. So this morning I awoke to a beam of sunshine on my face. Under normal circumstances, this might have been slightly annoying. However, since we haven’t seen a warm sunny morning since last week, I was very okay with it.

Unfortunately, the next thing my senses registered- work with me, it’s was only 7 something in the morning at this point-was the sound of the running shower. Ok, not to sound all scary but I promise you, I damn near had a heart attack. In that moment, I was completely convinced that a serial killer had broken into my apartment and was taking a shower!!!!
So unlike the helpless pinktoe heroines in the scary movies, my black ass silently bolts out of bed and makes the mad dash to close the bedroom door before I become the next senseless tragedy on the cover of the NYPost. Then as I reach the door, I realize-DUH-that’s not the shower. That’s the extra loud ghetto radiator letting off steam. Okay, who so not allowed to stay up late watching slasher flicks anymore?
And all of this would be hysterical except for one tiny snag. In order for my cheapass landlords to allow the heat to come up past the month of April means only one thing, IT’S BRICK OUTSIDE. I’m talking, borderline snow. And sure enough, when I looked out the window people were scurring to and fro in down coats and Northface parkas! Um, hello… it’s the last day of APRIL!!! Spring is officially dead.
I was so disgusted I had to go back to bed to try and stage a do-over on my day cause this makes no kinda of sense. Is anybody else as tired as I am of wearing winter clothes?

1 step forward, 50 shots back…

By on April 25, 2008 in it's not a game out there

The tragedy that was Sean Bell’s murder on the night before his wedding is eclipsed only the injustice of every single one of those police officers being aquited earlier today. You know, we all joke that there are days, moments, even weeks when its exhausting to be black in America; today it’s straight sad…. and frightening.

I think my boy Geoff put it best: “I am really blindsided and saddened by this. And really scared to be out without a camera crew filming me for my own protection and possible legal defense. Because obviously that’s what it takes to prove that you didn’t need to be riddled with bullets.”
Feel free to laugh until you cry.

too educated for my own good…

By on April 23, 2008 in made for the maury show

Okay, so I actually made it to the gym yesterday (woo hoo, go me). And while running to my death on the treadmill, guess what played on the 80s mix channel? Janet Jackson’s video for ‘Nasty Boys’!! Can I tell you I almost fell off the machine in glee? Remember how DOPE Janet used to be when you could actually understand the words coming out of her mouth? “No, my first name ain’t Baby. it’s Janet. Mz. Jackson if you nasty!”-wet n’ wild weave, shoulder pads, hammer pants and all (bonus points for Paula Abdul sitting in the semi-dark movie theater working that little neck like a straight chicken)! LOVES IT!!!

Then I arrive home and there’s an email from my girl Nicole-which is normally never a bad thing. Inside the email is a link to the “latest underground urban hit.” according to Perez Hilton. Notice, I say that with quotes… It’s entitled, Smell Yo D*ck. I know, I know, the title alone should’ve been enough to keep me from clicking, but like any good train wreck, I had to check it out. Dear God.
Am I old? Or is it that I have too much home training? Okay, seriously? Is this even music? And then folks wonder why there are days that I have to disassociate from the ‘urban’ contingency completely. I abhor ignorance.
Question, will YOU be jammin’ on the ones to this the next time I see you in da club?

such a joni mitchell cliche…

By on April 22, 2008 in going to hell in a handbasket

Why is it that the only time I EVER feel like working out is when I’m on deadline?

I’ve been trapped inside my apartment for the last three days working on this never ending feature that will remain nameless until it hits newsstands and the ONLY thing I wanted more than a shower (which I got thank you very much) was to go to the gym. I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to talk to my mom, I didn’t want to move my car from one side of the street to the other or even walk the dog. But I damn sure envisioned myself busting my ass to Britney Spears on a treadmill. What is that modern day cabin fever??

Of course, now that I can actually afford to spend 3 hours on the whole gum process (you know, getting dressed, going to the gym, working out and coming back home) with relative impunity, its’ the LAST thing I want to do…. I’d much rather get a hearty breakfast and order some more of my fave cellulite cream. Go figure.

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