Mitzi Moments

So I went by the NAACP Convention site (the New York Hilton on 6th Ave) yesterday afternoon to kinda scope out the lay of the land and try to drum -up a little last minute publicity for today’s signing- ’cause you know mama is all about the grass root movement. 


And can I tell you?  There are SO MANY black people in that damn building!! It was like a multi-generational HBCU campus….. Crazy. Please don’t let anyone fool you, the NAACP is still alive and kicking.

I was thinking, if Vernon Jordan was really smart, he’d cut all that damn rallying down and start a NAACP dating service.  You know something like, www.blackfolkwithcommonsensemeet.com.  Fifty bucks says the registration numbers would be through the ROOF!!! and then, when you had successful matches, people might be more willing to give back and donate. I can see it now- “I met my husband at the NAACP and now, we’re lifetime members.” 

Mmm-hmmm, laugh if you want… But I digress.

For those coming out this afternoon (4-6p), the Author’s Pavilion is on the 3rd floor in the back to your left.  Just take the escalators straight up and then hang a left when you walk in. You can’t miss it or me- in my pretty dress.

Big HOTLANTA day tomorrow afternoon party people!!  


From 4-6pm, yours truly will be shaking hands, taking pictures and signing copies of HOTLANTA at the NAACP’s Centennial Convention’s s Author’s Pavilion: 100 Years, 100 Authors.

I’ll be in the company of 9 other illustrious children and teen authors including: Deborah Gregory (Cheetah  Girls), L. Divine (Drama High) and even former NY Giant Tiki Barber (don’t ask me what he books wrote, all I know is the man is FINE).

Seriously?  I’m SOSOSOSO excited! I done went and got me a new dress and everything.  

Oh and the best part?  The event is free and open to public!!!  WOO HOO we love the Free, Free, Free!

So if you’re gonna be in the midtown NYC area- or know someone who will- here’s the addy.  Puh-lease come out, show some love and watch mama get her award-winning author ON. 

New York Hilton
1335 Avenue of the Americas
Btwn W. 53rd and W. 54th
July 14th
4-6p

When my BFF put her dog to sleep a couple of years ago, she confessed, “I loved that dog more than I like most people.” And I was like, damn. But you know what? It’s real.


I adopted my bad ass dog from the North Shore Animal League during one of the most challenging times in my life: while waiting for my liver transplant. From the outside, you might think that I rescued her from an animal shelter. But truth be told, Drama rescued me.


She kept my company when I felt most alone, made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry and was a reason to get out of my bed on the scary days that I thought I couldn’t take another step. Without saying a single word (or even bark) Drama never left my side.


*Granted, if you ever, ever, ever made the mistake of letting the runaway queen off the leash at the beach/ park it’d take forever and a day for her to heed the command words and come back. But I digress…


Over twelve and a half years, I watched Drama grow from an awkward chubby puppy who refused to play fetch into a big ass old dog who had way too many likes and dislikes for a 4-legged animal and clearly thought she was the boss of me.

And foreal, forreal? She totally was.


I am so lucky for all time we shared.

When I first sat down to write, my knee jerk reaction was to discuss how much I enjoyed yesterday afternoon’s MJ Tribute. Like seriously, I think I cried for at least two hours straight. Especially when J-Hud and her 8-month pregnant self murdered ‘Will You Be There.’ But since my out-of-wack hormones are a personal issue and you can read detailed coverage damn near any and everywhere, I figure we’ll move on. 


Unfortunately, there really isn’t anything to move on to… the Steve McNair drama is ongoing and more depressing by the moment, Plaxico Burress is still tryin’ to figure out how to avoid going to jail for 3 years behind that incident where he shot himself and some poor 2 year-old in England was crushed to death by his parent’s ginormous flat screen when it fell off the wall. Sigh.

So what say we discuss a recent poll?  Ahh… here’s a good one: Should you toss the lingerie rec’d from an ex or is it okay to wear it for the next?

This question actually came from my homeboy JC, who was mortified to discovered that a woman he knew (in the biblical sense) was recycling the pretty panties. In fact, he thought it was borderline blasphemy.  And wait on it… this highly educated, well-rounded, extensive traveled, sensitive, giving, forreal, forreal no b.s GOOD Black man actually wanted to debate whether he’d be wrong for snatching back all the panties he’s ever bought over the course of his very well seasoned life. 

Uh-yeah, please feel free to insert the blank stare and three blinks. Cause even if you agree with him, Indian giving is waaay too 3rd grade for my nerves.

But anyhoo, that’s a whole other poll.  Now, when it comes to the question of the drawers, survey says: 
28% agree- trash and start fresh
71% disagree- rinse and recycle

Sorry JC, but I told you so. 

If it makes you feel any better, in our heart of hearts, I think most women really want to be able to roll with the 28% that are able to trash and start fresh.  But there’s a huge difference between what a girl wants and what a woman is able to do. 

And regrettably, it is HARD out here for a pimp. While I might be able to catch a little hook-up on some GAP clothes here and there (I hope you guys are still praying), unless you’re living a life where there’s a good chance of paparazzi vying for pics of your panties, ain’t no hand-outs coming ’round from La Perla no time soon. Okay? 

Not to mention trying to: A) find the time to shop for lingerie that fits properly (don’t act like that’s not an all day affair) and B) afford the items that really really set it off (cause no matter how much they redesign, the VS just isn’t cutting it nowadays) is A LOT.  God forbid I were to just up and chuck EVERY single pair of cute drawers and etc that I’ve received over the years, neither one of us would like what was left. Believe that.

So until I meet the man that I can march up into Henri Bendel for a complete re-up without catching a whole lotta side-eye (read: bitch please) action, me and the majority are just gonna stock up on the Woolite coupons.

As much as I hate it to do it, I gotta call a spade, a spade: It’s been a bad meaning bad, NOT bad meaning good couple of weeks for the folks. Mmm-hmmm…


First we lost the King of Pop, then VIBE Magazine folded (say what you want but for the record, this was where I earned my very first major magazine cover byline.  Thanks Danyel!) and now the very married Super Bowl Quarterback Steve McNair was found shot up like Swiss cheese in a condo with his 20 year-old ‘girlfriend.’ Sigh. 

My people, my people, we gots to do better.