Mitzi Moments

Author: Mitzi

damn ma…

By on March 28, 2008 in why we as a people can't get ahead

Okay before I even begin to light into Remy Ma’s behind, I need to quickly toot my own horn. This morning I completed my last day of boot camp!!! WOO HOO. I am super psyched about the results- the thighs are looking halfway decent and the tummy is back under control. Note, I did not say anything was 100% right, but it’s back under control. So I won’t have to be sucking it up the next time you guys see me on the Food Network.

Okay, back to the tomfoolery of the day. Now I wasn’t even going to say anything about the disaster that is Remy Ma’s life right now. But then I was listening to Hot 97 and happened to hear the DJ complain that Remy didn’t even have a chance to say good-bye to her 8 year-old son or get her papers in order before they carted her off to jail. Didn’t even have a chance? Um, not for nothing, did she not know she was on trial for manslaughter for the past 6+ months??? Come on folks, stop supporting the self-sabotoge.
Remy reminds me of the teenage girls who get pregnant, pretend that its not happening to them and wanna flush babies down the toilet at their junior prom. TOTAL DENIAL.
When I heard about Remy’s conviction from Lil’ Lisa and then read about the ensuing fall out in the courtroom- so much for being hardcore, huh?-my first thought was… well she did admit getting into ‘ole girl’s car and shooting her point blank in the stomach, no? So why the surprise? As Melissa so kindly reminded me this morning, ‘she probably confused being famous in her neighborhood with something that mattered.’ Unfortunate.
Don’t get me wrong, I feel horribly for Remy. The one time I had the pleasure of interviewing her, she was nothing but nice. And I def jammed out to the 30-minute all Remy dedication they mixed and played in her honor this morning during the Morning Show. But the bottom line? I’m going to need people who have an opportunity to do better to appreciate that shit. It’s one thing if someone stole your last dime, the day before you were about to be evicted from your home and now you had to hit the stroll to work it out. But that’s hardly the case. Remy is facing 5-25 years behind bars over the amount of money that she probably spent popping bottles at the club last week. Tragic.
Not for nothing, I know Lil’ Kim is somewhere laughing her ass off right now.

who needs cable….

By on March 26, 2008 in it's not a game out there

So last night, we had an old school style/ kick in the door/ bring in the dogs style police raid in my apartment building. I’m sorry, let me clarify- in the apartment directly above mine.

Around 10.20p, just as I was hunkering down for a much needed night of sleep, there’s this humungous BOOM, all kinds of screaming and a man screaming- “THIS DA POLICE!!! EVERYBODY GET DOWN!! EVERYBODY ON THE FLOOR!!”
So naturally, my nosey ass shot straight to the front window where in less than 20 secs, ten police cars pulled up-on the sidewalk- blocking traffic from both directions and countless policemen were running up in my building like a bad episode of COPS. Straight drama.
I watched out my window for the next 15 minutes as a pitiful parade of at least 10 kids were lead out and around the corner single file (just so you know, my building is adjacent to one of the largest predincts in upper Manhattan) to jail. It was so sad. All these little knuckleheads that I’ve come to depend on to open the front door when I can’t find my keys, carry my grocery bags when I’m overwhelmed and more importantly give the very necessary “you looking good” head nod whenever I step out; gone just like that.
This morning when I left my apartment, everything was eerily quiet. There wasn’t one bleary-eyed hooded wanna be thug pulling his pants up as he struggled in from a hard night’s work or a single offering of ‘god bless you mami’ to start my day. Sigh, this gentrification thing is working my nerves.

too much time on her hands…

By on March 25, 2008 in made for the maury show

Okay, let me start off by saying that while I’m not necessarily the biggest Demi Moore fan, I do respect the old broad’s gangsta for making a potentially criminal offense (screwing someone at least 20+ years her junior) look sexy.

How-some-ever, there is a limit to the stupidity. And Demi my dear, you have officially reached it.
In her ongoing twisted attempt to never visibly age (read: 40 plastic surgery operations later), now homegirl is doing cleansings with LEECHES. Apparently she was all up on Letterman (in support of her new movie Flawless- tad ironic, no?), explaining how her new thing is allowing leeches to suck on her belly buttton. And while it was definately “uncomfortable,” Demi ‘no pain no gain’ Moore insists that all it took was a little Lamaze breathing to help her make it through.
I’m just unclear, is she saying leech bites that hurt as much as childbirth (because that is the purpose of learning Lamaze breathing techniques, correct?) is a good thing?? Survey says, NOT.
I mean seriously, is growing old gracefully that bad?
Read all about how leeches don’t like pubic hair and behave like little drunks after they’ve finished gorging on you:

just like that…

By on March 24, 2008 in why we as a people can't get ahead

Um, once again I’m experiencing that strange sensation where I regret that I don’t watch TMZ news or read the tabloids enough. Who knew Corrine Bailey Rae was married? I thought homgeirl was like, 17 years old. Tell the truth, didn’t you? Lord Jesus. And now her 31 year-old husband Jason Rae has been found dead? From a drug over dose? Sigh, it’s barely 9am and I’m already tapped out.

still not working on the essence assignment…

By on March 22, 2008 in that sense of entitlement

Okay dead serious, Kate Beckinsale is my new absolute favorite famous white girl (sorry Brit-Brit)!! I just read the most honest and hilarious Q&A from a working white celebrity that I’ve come across in like, forever. And I specify working because as soon as they become non-working D-listers, we can’t seem to get them to shut da hell up (read: Tori Spelling, Jessica Simpson, et al.).

Homegirl said that she’d rather eat a vagina than sushi!!! Then continues to keep it real by admitting that since she doesn’t drive, she basically bums rides everywhere from her friends and family. How-some-ever, and I quote, “the more kept I get the less cute it is.” Did this WG just acknowledge that she’s kept woman? LOVES it.
Read the rest:

i choose the stroll…

By on March 21, 2008 in why we as a people can't get ahead

So I’m sitting here thinking about the Elliot Spitzer ho-train debacle and the new Gov. Patterson’s infidelity revelations (instead of transcribing these god forsaken interviews for my Essence assignment). And it occurs to me how the real eye-opener is not that the men cheated but how unequal their treatment of the two respective women were…
-On one hand, Spitzer was willing to pay an average of $5K an hour to be in the err-um, company of this woman. Gov. Patterson- not so much. She probably didn’t even get a dry card on V-Day.
-Spitzer was willing to pay for ole’ girl to have her own room in the exclusive Mayflower Hotel. Gov. Patterson was like, meet me for a couple of hours at the Days Inn.
-Elliot’s chick had tales of wild, kinky sex. There was nothing but crickets about the good Gov’s swagger game. (read: straight missionary).
AND NOW,
E-Boogie’s hooker is now in MAJOR demand for kinds of media outlets. She’ll probably land a record contract any minute now. Not to mention all the money she stands to make from book deals, TV appearances and folks using the $300 tax return to pay for a download of her song on myspace. Poor, poor Gov. Patterson’s jump-off is probably going to be ridiculed at her church on Easter Sunday.
YOU DO THE MATH.

i like the lane that i’m in…

By on March 21, 2008 in keep hope alive

So as I drag my tired/sore/achy behind home through the icy winds from my early morning bootcamp torture (we were outside on the track running laps from 6.45am ), I started thinking about my girl Betina’s bday dinner last night. Alebit a brief get together for myself- unfortunately, I had to exit stage left before the meals were served to get some sleep for bootcamp- I had a really, really good time. Why?

Check this out…
Of the twelve amazing women there (11 black and 1 Asian), only one of us was in a relationship that we could or even wanted to claim. And no, it wasn’t me or the Asian chick. Mind you, all of these women are at the top or very near the top of their game (except for me again… I’m still begging folks to buy books so that I can keep the lights on). And that’s definately not what made it a good time.
Here’s the fun part…
NONE of us seemed sad or depressed about it. NOT A ONE. I promise you, every single one of the eleven women was straight chilling. And it wasn’t on some ‘bitter-scorned-women-who-hate all men’ type -ish, it was more like, we’re all in a really good place with or without a significant other. There was this positive overall sense of being more relieved NOT to be in a half-ass relationhip than concern about being single ” at our ages.” I swear, Oprah would have been so proud of us!
I mean sure, we mockingly complained about our struggle to connect on the long term with any new men with a 4-year+ college degree/ 410k investing/ 1 baby or less having/ decent looking/ interesting personality/ passport using or as in my personal case, the above average bedroom skills to which I’ve become accustomed. ‘Cause we’ve all got amazing exs… And just to ensure that we continue to do our part, as of next week, Nicole and Melissa will be valiantly leading a group of us to weekly pole dancing classes so that we can err-um, keep our credentials updated. Hee-hee…
Sigh. It was just one of those wonderful a-ha moments that remind me why I love living in NYC.

Oprah here I come..

By on March 19, 2008 in miracle on 169th street

HOLY COW, thanks to all the wonderful, amazing, supportive friends that I have, Hotlanta is now ranked#67 out of all the books on freaking AMAZON .COM. Can you believe it (Translation: I’m only 66 steps away from Oprah’s couch ya’ll) ??!!!!*

But wait on it- we’re also# 2 on the Children’s Books sale list and # 3 in Teens Books sale list!!* Watch out Harry Potter…
WOO HOO!! Que the wind machine, ’cause I can hear my big Daddy Kane theme music now- “I get the job done… I WORK, baby!” Feel free to insert visual image of Mitzi doing the running man right here.
And to think, yesterday morning before my err-um, gentle prodding/ subtle threats, our book was ranked at #263,000 overall!!!!
You guys are the freaking best EVER!!!!! Thank you sosososososo much!! I promise that when I get rich and famous, I’m throwing the dopest- ‘Mitzi FINALLY Made It’ party and EVERYBODY (that has a Hotlanta receipt) is invited.
*The ranking changes every hour so if you let up, we’ll fall. So STAY FOCUSED:

my mom and the 6 people I know….

By on March 18, 2008 in using our powers for good

Okay folks, there are offically twelve days left until my book drops. And how many of my so-called friends have managed to pre-order the book? Exactly six. Now I know, over the past thirty-two years, I’ve accumulated more than six friends with $12 to spare.
And certainly there are more than six people that have hit me up for a favor, loan, help, advice, a ride… Dang, can a sister get a little something on the back end? Mind you, it’s always encouraging to hear how many people are proud of and inspired by my decision to strike out on my own. But err-um, a little financial support would go a veeeeerrrrrrrryyyyy long way.
Granted, I know everyone thinks they deserve a free copy. But please let me explain how the publishing business works: it’s all about the numbers. My ability to secure the next book deal is soley based on the number of units I sell on this book deal. And no, the number of books I give away does not count towards this number. (READ: If Mitzi only sells six copies, she’s going to be panhandling on a corner near you).
Not to mention, the measly TEN copies the publishing company gives me are for PROMOTION. Anything beyond those initial ten must be purchased by yours truly. So while I’m happy to give your lil’ cousin Tay-Tay a free book. (in hopes she’ll convince all six of her friends to purchase a copy). I’d rather not buy my own book just so that I can give it to you.
BESIDES….
How will I be able to hook you up, if I never become rich and famous?
BIG PICTURE PEOPLE.
Order by the end of business tomorrow, & it’ll only cost you $8.99!
http://www.amazon.com/Hotlanta-No-1-Denene-Millner/dp/0545003083/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1205861024&sr=8-1

god don’t like ugly…

By on March 14, 2008 in keep hope alive

I woke up this morning stricken with what can only be described as my own personal version of SARS: my throat was aflame, pajamas drenched in sweat, head thumping, face bloated; just looking and feeling crazy. You know those horrible 24-hour flu viruses that come from out of nowhere and reduce you to a sniveling child who is calling her mother at 3.30am talking ’bout, ‘I’m dying?’ Yeah, you better act like you know.

So anyway, as I’m moments away from my deathbed (or at least what feels like it) my girl Ayana, god bless her heart, hits me on IM (which is nothing but a tool of the devil. But that’s another day’s post). Now mind you, I haven’t heard from Ms.Thang in a minute. Turns out, she too had fallen victim to this flu business about a week ago.
And I have to say, encouragd by the words of sympathy and solidarity from a survivor, my spirits immediately begin to perk up. Not to mention, who doesn’t love the homegirl that’s going to offer to get me anything I need to feel better?
But wait on it… I can have anything I need that will fit in a FedEx box- cause she aint coming within 500 feet of my contagious behind! LOLOL, I love my people I tell ya.

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