Category: it ain’t easy

I really, really meant to wake up at 6 am this morning, go to bikram, return home and post something profound from a place of spiritual enlightenment and THEN go to my taping for the Food Network.  But alas, the road to hell is built on good intentions.  And now there are exactly 40 minutes left till I have to walk out the door, I ain’t dressed, the hair looks crazy, the dog ain’t walked and I’ve got absolutely nothing enlightening to share. Sigh.

Light a candle, I already see what kinda day this is gonna be. Feel free to follow me on twitter to find out for yourself…

So all in one HOTLANTA-fied week, I’ve been written up in not one but TWO really amazing blogs!  Aww suckey-suckey now… 

The first posted yesterday on IN HER SHOES, a fast tracked blog that’s dedicated to-and I quote- “Showcasing some of the most driven, talented, inspiring and let’s not forget, flyest female entrepreneurs on the planet.” Whew!  Ain’t that a mouthful?  We LOVE. Check out  that feature HERE
The second is a cute lil’ Q&A that just hit the internet this morning.  That’s actually on and popping at THE B-LIFE. Which for those who are totally out of the loop, is for and about those who choose to indulge in the best life in NYC and beyond has to offer. Get into it.  Feel free to check that out HERE.
And as soon as you finish reading, take all that warm and fuzzy energy and go buy my new book HERE.  This way, they’ll have a good reason to continue writing about me! 

Lord haf mercy, mama gettin’ old!

So I ventured out to Bungalow 8 last night to help my homegirl DJ Kiss celebrate her bday and surprise engagement to her man, Mos (YEAH KISS!!) And while I LOVE , LOVE , LOVE getting dressed up and celebrating special occasions w the crew… I gotta tell you, it sure ain’t as easy to do the whole dancing till 3am on a weeknight stroll no more. No maam. When I woke up this morning, I felt like a mack truck had rolled over, stopped and reversed over every part of my body from the top of the head to the bottoms of my feet. Just a mess.

And I’m not going to even try to explain how hard it was to wrap my head around the story I just read about the 31-year-old Indonesian man who was mauled to death by two kimono dragon lizards! What in the world??

So basically, homeboy is professional fruit picker (err-um, who knew those even existed?). And he’s up in some sugar-apple tree doing what he does best. Then for whatever reason, poor thing falls off of the godforsaken tree and the lizards who just happen to be chilling at the bottom of the tree ATTACK!!! They bit the shit outta his hands, body, legs and neck. Mmm-hmm…

Apparently, the reptiles (which can grow up to 10 feet long and weigh damn near 150 pounds) have shark-like serrated teeth. And addition to the cuts, the bite can be deadly because its saliva contains roughly 50 different known bacteria strains. Eeeewwaa!! So dirty!

Seriously? If this ain’t some ole cracked-out-Wes-Craven-sci-fi-animals gone-wild-type mess I don’t know what it is. Good freakin’ luck.

Can I tell you? I love me some snow. Okay wait, let me be a tad more specific- I do not love cold weather, dirty slush, treacherous driving conditions, or the stink in the subways that inevitably accompany a snowstorm BUT I do love me some winterwonderland-esque snow days. Sigh.

And guess what? This blissful day right here is THAT much better because super dope journalist/editor Juleyka Lantigua (if you don’t know the byline you better get to googling), included me in her latest Republica Update blog post “Afro-Latinas to Celebrate During Black History Month“!!!

Yes maam, I’m all up on there with Rosario Dawson, Gina Torres and even Rita Marley. Mmm-hmm, betcha didn’t know good ole Rita was Cuban, did ya?

Take notes and feel free to spread the good news…

My god when is the summer coming? This cold weather is K-I-L-L-I-N-G me I tell you.

It’s gotten so bad, I don’t even believe the sunshine when I see it. It’s like: yeah, yeah, yeah all them blue skies and rays of light are just trickery to get me to leave my warm and toasty apartment for the frigid outdoors. Damn that. Like I always say, can’t nothing good happen below 75 degrees.

On the flipside, in anticipation of the day I actually get to wear a sundress or pair of shorts, I’ve decided to re-enlist in my local bootcamp workout program- AGAIN ( Yeah, yeah, I know, why in the world would my lazy ass voluntary wake up at 5.30a just to be worked out like an endentured slave for 90 minutes four days a week? Ummm…. cause bootcamp is way cheaper than replacing the cute clothes. And there’s nothing uglier than the ill fitting baby-t. Mmm-hmm, exactly.

Thankfully, this program is only three weeks long (as opposed to the normal six week session). So praise the Lord, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Sorta…. Check back in with me next week after we’ve hit the track to do countless wind sprints and I attempt to run a mile and a half in under twelve minutes.

Pray for me ya’ll…

This is a really random question but when was the last time anyone tried to find a pair of pantyhose? No, I’m not talking tights- lord knows I wear a pair of those damn near every single day during the winter.

When I say pantyhose, I mean honest-to-goodness nude, taupe, sandy beige colored stockings. As in, last seen on a rerun of The Golden Girls… Yeah, I didn’t think it was going to be that many.

Well anyhoo, I’m on the hunt for a pair. And I have absolutely no idea what brand makes realistic colors for women of color. Last time I can remember actually wearing a pair that sorta kinda matched was when I spent a summer interning at an investment bank. Mmm-hmm, you can feel free to add that to the list of 25 Random Things You Didn’t KNow About Me.

So will someone please point me in the right direction? Brand and retail store specifics… I do not want to waste hours of my life shoving my hand in and out of all those half-hose testers, spend $15 I could use to buy Drama some dog food, only to get home and realize that the sheer sun-kiss almond makes my legs look like those of dead people.

I woke up this morning feeling kinda out of sorts. Prob had a lot to do with the fact that I didn’t manage to fall asleep (alone, unfortunately) until almost 3am. So instead of jumping headfirst into the day, I decided to read the latest issue of EW (with Heath Ledger on the cover) that I snagged out of my mailbox upon my return from DC.

Now I gotta tell you. I’m not really the one to obsess over white men. Like, I can tell if he’s good looking or not (I’ve got eyes in my head, don’t I?), but beyond that… eh, not so much. Pinktoe juice just doesn’t get my heart rate pumping like a good old fashion cup of hot chocolate- ya feel me?

But Heath Ledger? Now that whiteboy right there was DOPE.
I can remember peeping him out ever since 10 Things I Hate About You. And who can forget how adorable he was in A Knight’s Tale? Even when he was creating a new term for being closeted (as in, ‘Girl you know that negro is straight Brokeback!’), don’t act like you couldn’t understand why old girl really, really wanted to pretend like she didn’t understand what those “camping trips” were about.
And the bestest part? Heath’s looks didn’t even begin to top his acting ability. He was truly one of the most talented young actors in Hollywood. From beginning to end, he would work a character OUT. Lords of Dogtown? The Dark Knight? Need I say more?
It’s still so heartbreaking to me that he died before even turning 30. Crazy.

Ever complain about something so much, the very sound of your own voice starts to become annoying? Well that’s exactly the point my girl Toya and I reached about our recent “I’m so happy all I do is eat” weight gain last week Wednesday.

Cause truth be told, most folks battle with those annoying ‘last 5 lbs’ when life is good. But that 7th or 8th pound? Those are beyond annoying. Those are the straight game changers. Let me explain: With 5lbs, your jeans might rub btwn the thighs and leave embarrassing indenture marks on your waist. With an extra 8lbs, your ass is popping buttons and begging the doctor to deduct a pound from the scale for the paper gown and sweat socks! See? It’s too much.
I know, I know, in the grand scheme of things, 8 lbs is nothing when people everywhere are dealing with much more serious weight/ health issues. Look at poor Oprah for Chrissake… all that money and home girl is tipping the scale at 200lbs??? Uh, uh you got more people than this O. Speaking of which, where is Gail? Why isn’t her trifling behind taking the cookies out of the cupboard? But I digress.
I assure you, this is bigger than simple vanity. This is really about being a bunch of lazy cheap asses. Hoenstly, with the economy going down the shitter, who da hell has the extra $175 to replace a pair of jeans just cause you couldn’t say no to that chocolate souffle at Campo? Mmm-hmmm, I didn’t think so.
With that said, Toya and I came up with the bright idea to train for a 5K run. We figure if there’s something to accomplish, we’ll stay on our workout/ better eating habit regiment forreal, forreal this time. Sounds believable, right?
Well here’s the thing, she and I are both instant gratification whores that can’t wait longer than two seconds or we’re off the little red wagon. So we’ve decided to stage our very own race and even picked a date (drumroll, please)- THIS Saturday, December 16th.
Yes, you read that correctly. 10 days from the initial conversation and a mere 2 days from now, Toya, myself and I about six other mutual girlfriends who generally only run to sample sales and from the rain after getting the hair did (you didn’t really think we were going to put ourselves through this craziness alone did you??) will be running/ walking/ dragging our behinds around NYC’s Central Park Resevoir in the freezing cold in the 1st ever Race To Save Our Thighs 5K Run to raise awareness to the fact that cuteness kills.
You love it, right?

See now, yesterday I was feeling like a grouch and didn’t want to post/email/ im/ do anything computer related. But this morning, I woke up on a mission to get to jabber jawing. And guess what? My Road Runner service was down. So I spent almost three hours of my life on the phone with the poor Time Waner rep trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with my internet connection. And just when the ‘Level 3′ rep (yes, I went through three whole levels of rebooting the computer, checking the IP address, plugging and unplugging the same two cords) was about to throw in the towel, back on it came!! You know what….

Who didn’t see Michelle Obama’s fly red dress yesterday??? I swear, Elsa called me mid-shift from the hospital all excited talking about, “Did you see the dress???” I could barely say hello before she blurted her question out. And for those who don’t really understand, let me put it in perspective: My mother who probably should’ve been in the middle of helping somebody breathe while they were sedated had to take a moment to call and cut up about how dope The future first lady looked. How crazy is that???

If Barack thinks he’s under pressure, god bless poor Michelle. She has been saddled with the hopes and dreams of every fashion conscious Black woman since she stepped out in that breath taking purple sheath/ black leather belt combo. Remember her KILLING homey ass Elisabeth on The View with the black and white dress?? Act don’t like I’m the only one who wanted to back slap her and Narcisco Rodriguez for that unfortunate red and black number she wore last Tuesday night!! My god if it didn’t feel almost sacrilegious to say anything negative about election night, folks would have been eating her ALIVE.

All along, through the various tie-dyed, flower on the collar, bows on her neck fiascos I’ve been keep my head down and praying that this was simply a deliberate decision to dumb down her fashion sense and not a sign of bad things to come. I could see the side eye she was giving when Barack said, “Baby, you know the coal miner’s daughter don’t know nothing about those Sergio Rossi stiletos. Can you just please do this for me? Pretty please??” She definitely took one for the team.
But today sisters are vindicated. Michelle aka the Black Jackie O is back with a vengeance. When Barack helped her out of the limo, tears came to my eyes. You can’t tell me that Laura Bush wasn’t looking like the ultimate Washed Out White Woman next to Michelle’s statuesque ‘Me and Mine’s Are Straight Taking Over.” And I’ll bet President Bush was jealous as hell. Like, damn Laura why you ain’t never, ever, ever look like that!!
I’m telling you, Barack and Michelle making Black women the fire everyday all day.



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