"There are notes between notes, you know." -- Sarah Vaughan

Sunday, August 31, 2008

I am not my hair

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to grow a natural. But, I was scared. I wasn't sure what my hair would look like and how to do it and frankly, I was a slave to the relaxer.

Last year right before I got married, I got my very last relaxer. I promised myself I would go without relaxing for a year and then make a decision about where to go from that point. Tomorrow officially marks one year of being relaxer free. Here's what my hair looks like one year out of chemicals:



It's been a crazy ride. Turns out I have three different textures of hair on my head and the hair in the front was particularly resistant to returning to its natural state but around about April everything settled in and I hit a rhythm with products and styling.

I can't begin to tell you how liberating it was to go to the beach/pool last month and not worry about my hair other than making sure it was properly cleansed and moisturized. I don't miss going to bed and barely being able to sleep because of paranoia about messing up my "just done" hair. I don't miss hating the rain because that meant my hairdo was kaput.

That said, I'm not sure I will do it indefinitely. I like the low maintenance, but it's not the cutest look on me. I don't feel as feminine and frilly as I do with my relaxed hair. If it were longer I know I wouldn't feel this way, but growing it long enough for it to LOOK long will take years.

What do you guys think? Have you gone natural and, if so, how did you power through those "I want a Beyonce lacefront wig" moments?

Friday, August 29, 2008

A man speaks out about rape

"Black Men have been influenced by media and our dumb ass friends that tell us our own women are conniving, gold diggers, or somehow restraining us. Black Men have been convinced that being married is somehow a lesser form of hell. Black Men that are losers in their relationship are demeaning our women by making you think of them as Bitches instead of like your mother. When Mike Tyson raped that woman in his hotel room we all somehow believed she knew what she was doing, but did she deserve to be raped? When Tupac went to jail for rape we say again she knew what she was doing, but again did she deserve to be raped! We all know there are some women in this world who really are gold diggers but is it every other woman we meet in this world and is the punishment for being a Gold Digger RAPE!"
Read the full post over on FreeMan Press.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Ne le dis à personne (Tell No One)

Saw this movie by director Guillaume Canet this week and thoroughly enjoyed it.

The premise is not new, but the execution was well done and except for a drag in the very beginning the movie paced well. I highly recommend. Check it out if you get a chance.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Why do my parents remain in denial?

My brother is a selfish user. He calls our parents and other family members when he needs something, and calls me not at all cause he knows the answer is always no.

And yet this morning my father emails me and asks if I have talked to my brother as he has called him several times and gotten no answer or callback.

My response: His phone works like everybody else's, so he can see you've called, he can hear your voice mails. When he needs some money or something, you'll hear from him.

That's the same response I give every. time. my. father. asks. me. this. silly. azz. question. He and my mother prefer fantasyland when it comes to my brother. Whateva, that's their child, but I've told them that they better live a good and long time cause I will not be picking up where they left off and enabling a grown capable man to be triflin'.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Jesus take the wheel ... sweet feet

I hate riding in the car when Mr. SingLikeSassy is driving. He is a tense and impatient driver who doesn't react quickly to situations which just makes him more tense. And he relies on me to be his eyes and navigator then gets mad when I say go straight cause to me it's straight

needle dragging across a record screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech

In the midst of writing this post I stopped and picked up my AFTRA membership magazine and the first ad I see says "Pretty Dress...Ugly Feet?" It's a pitch for aesthetic foot surgery. Getthefugouttahere! According to the ad and the Web site listed on it, you can get your toes shortened and a toenail reconstructed among other things. Wow.


Now for many of you this is prolly nothing, but for me this is a trip. I have a foot thing. No, I don't want to touch feet or cut them off and collect them in my freezer or anything like that, I just look at people's feet and try to gauge why they look they way they do. And I judge them. I have seen some ugly feet and wondered first, why that person's feet looked so disgusting, and two, why they didn't realize it and cover them up.

It's my grandma's fault. She was convinced that no woman's feet should be bigger than a size 8 and even then they might be a smidge too large. She also said a woman's feet should be soft and ladylike looking, meaning nails clipped and polished, heels smooth, no callouses, corns or bunions.

As a result, I am fanatical about my feet. If I see anything looking like a corn or callous developing I stop wearing whatever shoes I think might be causing it. I have more salves, lotions, oils and potions for softening the feet than is prolly healthy.

So to bring it full circle, I have short, fat toes on my size 7 feet. Maybe these feet fixers can hook a sista up with some foot beautification? runs to Web site to see what kinds of stuff I can get done to my feet.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

What works for me, works for me

I work with someone who is in a longterm committed relationship and has no plans to get married. They will have a child soon.

There is a flirtation going on with some other coworkers. I hadn't noticed it, but I don't generally care about what folks are doing so long as they get their work done and aren't causing problems for me. My non-married soon-to-be-a-parent coworker brought it to my attention that these two people giggle together a lot. And that the male in this giggling set has a girlfriend.

My non-married soon-to-be-a-parent coworker said they would be bothered if their mate was giggling like that with a coworker. I said as long as it didn't leave the cubicles and creep outside the workplace, I wouldn't care if Mr. SingLikeSassy was kikiking it up with some woman. He's a funny guy, people laugh. People do whatever they need to sometimes to make the workday go by more quickly. And it's giggling! He's not at her desk leaning over her all day long, they don't go to lunch together or out for coffee (I've noticed), it's just jokes -- not even racy ones -- with a coworker.

What I didn't say out loud was this: if you were married, you might be less concerned about some giggles in a workplace. It's easy as heck to leave a girlfriend. Not saying that husbands can't and don't cheat cause we know that's not the case, I just think the ties binding that couple are not legal, so the relationship can be dissolved tomorrow if someone decides to walk away.

Furthermore, I'm from the school of que sera sera. Mr. SingLikeSassy is a grown man with the ability to discern right from wrong. He knows he is married and how to conduct himself accordingly, but I know that if he decides to cheat, no amount of my being mad about some workplace giggling is going to stop that from happening.

Obviously I'm looking at this situation from the perspective of someone who wanted to be married, got married and views/viewed marriage as the most binding commitment (which is why I am pro-gay marriage. I understand). I didn't live with any man before I got married. I didn't commingle money with any man before I got married. I didn't buy a house with any man before I got married. I didn't do married people kinds of things with any man before I got married. If you wanted those married benefits and perks, well, you needed to marry me.

But, I'm also the kind of person who would sign -- and could ask my mate to sign -- a prenuptial agreement. I understand that some things have to be written down so that we are all on one accord. Now, I know I'm in the minority on this issue, but if you think about it, my stance on prenups fits well with my view about living together before marriage etc.

Anyway, this is all just fodder for conversation. What do you guys think, would you worry if your mate/S.O. was giggling with a coworker?

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Celery, how I hate thee

I hate celery. With a passion. It tastes awful, the texture is wrong to my tongue and I hate it. I never want to eat it or taste it. Ever. Don't slap peanut butter on it and try to fool me into thinking that might be good. It's not good. It's celery.

I also hate coconut. It tastes awful and has an odd texture as well. I never ever ever ever ever want to eat it. Ever. Don't try to trick me by giving me some baked good with coconut in it. I will spit it out and slap you for letting me place that foulness in my mouth.

And while I'm at it, I don't like cottage cheese, bread pudding, carrots, rice pudding, papaya, pepperoni, carrot cake, apricots, meringue, bread/cookies/cake with nuts/raisins in them, oregano, macadamia nuts, marshmallows, cantaloupe, almonds, butterscotch, yellow squash, parsley, mangoes and butter pecan ice cream (this list is not all-inclusive).

Unfortunately, I am the only one in my family who hates these things. Every time we have a family function someone brings potato salad with celery all up in it, carrot raisin salad and/or some heavily coconut-laden salad or dessert and whips out a tub of that yucky butter pecan ice cream. Ew.

My husband likes these things, so when we go home to visit my people, they make all this nasty celery-filled, coconut-covered, carrot cake-ish, nut- and raisin-stuffed food for him that I then have to haul back to my house and throw away because my husband does not eat leftovers. He'll eat a bowl of cereal three times a day, but will only eat a piece of day old chicken under duress.

To compound the crime, he hates olives, pickles, sour cream, couscous and goat cheese, which I love. YUM! What sane person doesn't like a good crunchy kosher dill pickle? The other day he noted I had two huge jars of them taking up room in the refrigerator. Whatevs. crunches on pickle

Anyway, as you can see this post is about nothing.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Blinged out McCain

No matter which candidate you support, this is the funniest thing I've read all day:
"John McCain isn't just a presidential candidate. He's a veritable bling-master, worthy of an "MTV Cribs" episode, those televised tours of brazenly gilded homes led by celebrity owners like 50 Cent, Hulk Hogan and Bow Wow." -- Washington Post
I have this crazy visual of McCain singing "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" with Puffy and Biggie and tapping a video chick on the booty.

Monday, August 18, 2008

If the shoe doesn't fit...

My husband is my partner and helpmate. When his niece was at our house yesterday he played with us. His brother, the niece's dad? He's an old school Neanderthal. He does stuff for his kids, but he does it with attitude 'cause he believes tending to children is one of the many things that fall under the heading "women's work." I've heard him say that his wife has forgotten what her job is when she's talking to me while sipping a glass of wine rather than running behind the kids and doing stuff in the house.

Now, I was raised in the South by women who believe in catering to men. I fix my husband's plate and, if he's upstairs, I'll take it to him on a tray. I have no problem doing this, I like doing it and he loves me doing it. I realize, however, that this is a dynamic that works for our union that may not work for others.

My husband does not expect me to do the laundry or cook or whatever because I am the woman. Keeping our house clean is what we both do.

But as I said earlier, what works for my marriage may not be what works for other marriages. Thank goodness I got the right husband. For me.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Trial run as a mama

OK, that's exaggerated. I'm babysitting Mr. SingLikeSassy's niece. She's 2 and a barrel of fun. We've watched Dora the Explorer, played drums with a pan and a spoon, danced with our sombreros, shared a snack and now she's napping. If this is what I have to look forward to, then bring on the babies!

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Trashing the "hope/wish creed"

One of my friends said recently that the one thing she loves and hates about me is my sense of entitlement.

She cited this as an example: once we were in an airport together and went to collect our luggage. While she was struggling with her bags, and had gotten sweaty and disheveled in the process, she looked up and noticed some man was grabbing my luggage for me while I was standing there not breaking a sweat or a nail. She asked me later who he was and I said, I didn't know, but I had no intention of doing all that bending and pulling to get that bag off the turnstile. She says it never occurred to her to ask for help, though she could have used it, because she assumed no one was willing. At the same time, it never occurred to me not to ask for help as I had no intention of struggling with my bag.

Now, I don't remember this incident, but it sounds like me, so I'm inclined to believe it occurred.

Anyway, she said sometimes that drives her crazy and that she would hate me except I work hard to get most of the things I want, so it's like I expect it but I put work in to get it, too.

And she's right. I do expect great things and I do put the work in to make sure that what I expect comes to fruition. So it hit me last night that rather than expect to get pregnant and moving forward accordingly, the whole time with this baby situation I've been using the "hope/wish" creed, e.g. I hope it works and I get pregnant and I wish we could be blessed with a child. A whole bunch of talk about managing expectations in case it didn't happen. DAMN THAT!

When I woke up this morning I told my husband that I had been out of order on this issue up until now and that aint never been my M.O. and as of this moment I would go back to the SingLikeSassy creed: it's mine, I want it, now let's get busy making it happen. I am not starting this next cycle off "hoping" and "wishing" like I did the last failed try.

So much was wrong with that cycle. I was switching jobs, scared about the unknown process, stressed about my insurance coverage, worried about delivering before I was eligible for FMLA, trying to visit daycares while juggling doctor appts and my new extra stressful job and through no fault of his own my husband was still on part-time status with the school system and I was paying most of the bills for his house and mine -- and then there were the extra health issues that came up during the process. I also thought it was too soon in our marriage to add in the extra layer of a kid, but we decided we had to do it then because my old employer's insurance would cover the costs.

Now, we're one month away from our first anniversary. The FMLA thing is moot. The school system finally got its paperwork sorted out and restored my husband to full-time status PLUS he's on faculty at one of the area universities now. My current insurance doesn't cover infertility, but we're paying out of pocket for the procedure. We've worked out that I will stay home with our kid so daycare is not an issue. We're preparing my house for sale, have made some repairs and cosmetic changes in his and have built up our savings. The timing of my transfer is such that our baby would be born right when the school year ended so my husband would not have to juggle work with being a new parent.

We have one frozen embryo. This is our baby.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Pending baby on board!

I start my frozen embryo transfer cycle on Monday. Let's do this, Brutus!!!

Thursday, August 14, 2008

I go to the rock

When my cycle didn't show up on Saturday as it should have, I didn't immediately get excited. What's a day here or there? Sunday came and went, nothing. Same thing Monday and Tuesday. Woke up yesterday morning and nothing again.

I tried not to, but I got a little excited. Maybe we wouldn't have to pull out the frozen embryo after all. No shots, no pills, just regular ol' rabbit died cigar passing around babymaking. I told Mr. SingLikeSassy and we decided to just hold tight and take a test on Saturday if nothing had happened by the weekend.

Then around 4 p.m. I felt a twinge in my hinter regions. And then, the floodgates opened, as it were. No baby. Sigh.

But, as Yolanda Adams sings, the battle is not mine, it's the Lord's and then Dottie Peoples reminded me that he's an on time God and Richard Smallwood told me to not to be discouraged, there is a healing for my spirit and my soul.

So I'll call the nurse, as planned, and get the frozen egg transfer process underway.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

I don't go to church

It's not that I don't believe in God, I just do not go to church. Mr. SingLikeSassy likes to joke that we worship at the Church of the Bedside Comforter. Despite my lack of church attendance, I love gospel music. I always find hope and inspiration in the lyrics and music. So, here's a sampling of some of my favorite spiritual music:

The arrangement of this song makes it a favorite:




These are what I listen to when I'm feeling low, and I need inspiration to keep on keepin' on:







I listen to this when I need encouragement:




This one I keep on hand for when my friends need encouragement (I also have a great memory of singing this in the kitchen with my grandma while cooking a Sunday dinner):




And this is my all-time favorite from back in the day. Whitney did it right on "The Preacher's Wife" soundtrack, which stays on continuous play in my car.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

The "Invisible" Black Middle Class

“The black middle class is the most invisible, unknown group in the country,” says Gayle Pemberton, a professor of African-American studies at Wesleyan University. “There are millions and millions of people in it, and yet we know nothing about them.”

Read more about us "invisible" middle class black folks in the New York Magazine.

Enough about the Olympics already!

I really don't care. Really. I'm not watching. I won't be watching. It's boring. Put my regular crappy TV programming back on please. OKthanksbuhbye.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Making a marriage work

BLACK WOMEN, BLOW THE TRUMPET!: ON BEING "THE EXCELLENT WIFE"

"Today, I want to encourage an examination of the aspects of our upbringing as black girls that directly impacts our preparedness for marriage."

Back from vacay!

It was a great week with my husband and my family. I swam, played b-ball, kayaked, entered a cooking contest and drank freely and liberally. A vacation to remember. Here's hoping those memories can carry me through this first day back at work.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

R.I.P. Bernie Mac

I am one of Bernie Mac's biggest fans, Mr. SingLikeSassy and I stay up late every weeknight to watch reruns of his show. His too early death hurt me. My prayers go out to his family.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Talk amongst yourselves

AverageBro.com: Barack Hussein Obama vs The United States Of America.

... it's clear from anyone listening to talk radio, watching the news, or simply overhearing any level of Conservative discourse that this year's race isn't about getting their guy into office, it's about keeping the potentially evil Beige Negro out.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

I don't like bikinis

I am some years away from my girlish figure, but even when I was hawt to def like Beyonce, I never wore bikinis. I just didn't like feeling nekkid in public. Even now in a bathing suit I feel too exposed.

But it seems I am one of a very few who is modest in this way as I am seeing some really, um, overly exposed folks on these beaches. And they ain't got their girlish Beyonce figures no mo' either.

Let's institute this rule: if you have to hold your stomach in so that you can see your feet, you should not wear a bikini. Just move on past that rack and do your shopping on the bathing dress row.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Scoot, scoot, scootin' along

I want a scooter. Mr. SingLikeSassy says "EXPLETIVE NO." He, who rides a bike all over town, doesn't think the Vespa is safe. I hope to convince him otherwise.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Ain't no jokes happening here

I am having a true midlife crisis. I don't want to work anymore, which is crazy cause in my world, folks who don't work, don't eat.

But I can no longer muster up any excitement for this job and I realized it's because I have lost all enthusiasm for this business. There's no need to move to another gig, cause it will just be more of the same in a different place. I came to *this* gig thinking it would renew my interest in this but, here it is almost six months later and ... nothing. It's still a pile of steaming hot cat doody. Only benefit is the increased salary.

So over the next few months I have to come up with a plan for how to revamp my career, assuming I don't get pregnant, in which case I will leave the workforce to raise our kid. I know that I want to pursue jazz studies, but the practical side of me needs to figure out how I can get paid doing that, cause my husband plays gigs all.of.the.time and it's good extra money, but that's not paying the mortgage every month. It's too iffy. At least it is for me, anyways.

Sigh.

Man, life is good

Got here yesterday and immediately went to the pool with a book and a drink, while Mr. SingLikeSassy fired up the stove and cooked dinner. I'm feeling real chillaxed. Hope y'all are too.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Show 'em what ya got

Mr. SingLikeSassy and I are invited to a party this weekend that includes a talent show. WHY oh WHY did the hosts make that an element of this party? Obviously they missed this post. You know me and my music man are gon' put it DOWN tonight. Here's a sampling of our act:

Friday, August 1, 2008

Marion Barry STAY up, don't he?

"Barry, who was perhaps a tad more likely to win his claim against Metro than you or I might be, especially because he sits on Metro's board of directors, has hardly returned the favor. Indeed, he has the worst attendance record of anyone on the Metro board. As Sun reported, "In three years, he has attended nine of 165 Metro committee and board meetings." When she asked Barry about that sorry record, the council member replied in his inimitable style, "I'm surprised I've been to that many." At this point in the story, I'll pause while you rise for the obligatory standing O."

You can check the rest out here.

Cry, baby, cry. Dry your weeping eyes.

Last week I had a crazy jacked up stressful give 'em your left cheek to kiss walk out and don't look back day at work that caused me to come in the door and throw myself at my husband in tears.

He held me tight and rubbed my back.

I felt better.

The end.