Mitzi Moments

Mitzi Moments

jus’ mad cause she was in the penthouse suite…

By on June 2, 2009 in made for the maury show, pocket full of dirty tissue, work it white girl

There are a lot of really, really, really good reasons to end up in jail: rape, murder, assualt, sex trade trafficking, multi-million dollar white collar crimes, domestic violence, and the list goes on. But adultery? Eh, not so much.

Apparently, a married British woman and her jump-off were arrested after her estranged husband took it the next level and tipped off the po-po that she was getting her swerve on at a 5-star hotel. But wait on it… As if the embarrassment of being snatched up by the cops in the public lobby of a hotel wasn’t enough, both were promptly sent to jail for an entire MONTH behind that mess. Mind you, the couple had been separated and in the process of getting a divorce for a hot minute.

Woah. Can you say, hi hater?

kinda makes celebrity news not so important…

By on June 2, 2009 in it's not a game out there, keep hope alive

Good grief, if ever, this was a day deserving of a do-over. First, I woke up this morning with a crick in my neck, pinch in my hip and a headache from hell. Then to make matters worse, I heard the breaking news about the very real possibility of Air France Jet 447 being found in pieces in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Seriously?

Cause the thing is, I LIVE to fly. If I could get on a plane from here to the corner, I’d do it. But over the past couple of years there have been so many crashes… it’s a lot. My nerves are getting increasing worse… especially when I’m not the one flying.

I know, I know, sounds totally irrational but oh so true. I get so weirded out anytime my family and friends get on a plane, its ridiculous. Like I want a call when boarding, right before take off, as soon as they say it’s safe to turn on cell phone and the moment you step outta that airport. And no, I don’t give a damn if you’re on the other side of the world. Find yourself an international calling card and make the magic happen. (LOL, can you say neurotic?)

The thing is, I don’t want to be the one left behind. Call me selfish but I’m very okay with the idea of being the one that goes down in flames. Now as for being the one that has to go pick up the remains? Not so much.

congrats pretty stevie…

By on June 1, 2009 in desperate cry for help, it's not a game out there, Mitzi- all day every day, tapped out

So I finally touched NY ground late last night after the cute 4-day vacay in Miami with a bunch of my old school FAMU crew to celebrate our boy’s graduation from dental school. And despite Florida’s touch and go weather (it rained for at least 3 hours every single solitary damn day), I still managed to get more than my fair share of sun, fun and grown folk relaxation on. Mmm-hmmm…

Lord knows, it’s always fun times getting together with college folks I haven’t seen in YEARS… first and foremost because they’re the people that I spent the majority of my ignorant late teens/ early twenties getting in and out of BS with (raise your hand if you know about those late, late night runs to Guthrie’s and chugging flaming Dr. Peppers) and because we’re finally grown enough not to have to sleep two in a bed and one on the floor to be able to afford a room in the nice hotel. Mmm-hmmm, just like that.
Lord, there’s so much new stuff to catch up on- where you at, what you working on, where you going next, who still has all their hair, how many pounds we’ve all gained, etc. I swear, I haven’t laughed so hard in a very looooong time.

But seriously- when the hell did discussions about daycare and private school tuition replace talking shit?? I mean, forget the big money schemes, fly rides, latest styles and upcoming vacay adventures- this time around it was all about how to maintain your swagger while pushing the minivan w/ multiple car seats, where to find the Spanx thong and tips on how to remain as quiet when the wife is speaking. Huh??? Oh and wait on it…
What you know about the virtues of a vasectomy debate that ensued over our Saturday night dinner. With more than a few of the wives talkin’ ’bout, “snip, snip negro!”

Yo, forreal, forreal?I haven’t been so happy to be single and child free in LIFE. To be able to say my biggest concern before boarding the flight was whether I remembered the sun block v. worrying that my mother-in-law might feed our 3 year-old McDonalds, was PRICELESS.
I respect Black love, the commitment my peers have to making their families work and all that Barack and Michelle jazz BUT Jesus take the wheel! I’m G-O-O-D.

i prefer to watch the needle enter the skin…

By on May 27, 2009 in feedback

Unless there’s a really good reason, I’ve never been one of those people who cuts off an ex after the romantic aspect of the relation ship fizzles out.  Call me crazy but the way I see it is- why throw the baby out with the bath water? Clearly there was something about the person that I liked to begin with if we ended up sleeping together. So why stop speaking  just cause we’re not meant to be.

That said, I am still extremely close with a couple of my exs.  And when I say ‘extremely close,’ I mean it like, don’t be surprised if they’re throwing rice at my wedding.  These select few continue to be some of my closest confidants and sounding boards (trust, there are few people that’ll keep it as real than those who have seen you naked with the silk head scarf on- okay?)
But here’s my thing- how do you tell the new Mr. Right that you and the old boo are still down like 4 flat tires.  Cause trust, the whole- “oh that’s just my ex calling the land line” answer does not, I repeat, does not go over well with black men.
For a moment, I was thinking that I’d just invite the ex-BF to the dinner with the current significant other.  But let’s just say, that moment lasted right up until I saw the tepid response in a poll I posted a while ago… 
According to that, only 26% of you guys support the whole let’s-break-bread movement. Really??? You don’t think that if there’s really nothing romantic left between you and an ex that ‘s a part of your life, you can bring him around the new man?  Sigh.  that’s so frustrating.  ‘Cause when it’s all said and done, doesn’t that translate to shadiness on the part of the 73% who insist that nothing good can come out of the gesture???  
Think about it, theoretically the new BF and I would have dinner with any other friend of mine-girl or guy… So why be different with this friend just because it’s a guy that I used to be intimate with.  Isn’t the past the past? 
I’m just saying. Personally, I would MUCH rather sit across a table from this woman so that I could gauge for myself what’s really hood.  

and it don’t stop…

By on May 26, 2009 in i'm not ready to be a grandmother, it's in the genes, love be a cellulite cream

So the morning after the wedding, I was so exhausted there are no words to describe.  You know that borderline hysterical, everything hurts from the ends of my matted hair to the chipped tips of my toenails type feeling? Where you really, really wanna cry but there’s no rational reason to do so?  Yeah, that’s where I was with it. 

But since it was my BFFs fantastic 44th birthday, I had to drag my ass down to APT to help her properly ring in another year.  And lemme tell you, Joan Morgan is beyond. She was working the most scandalous sequined mini and wearing down the dance floor like it was the 80s. Shoot, if this is how good it’s gonna look 10 years from now I can’t wait. 

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