The Part Where You Fall Apart Piece by Piece

So I had a biopsy last week. My very first surgery of any kind. Two weeks prior, my GYN told me I had fibroids. Yay! No. Not fucking yay. I thought I was gonna be the one out of literally everyone I know who has had them and have had all sorts of surgeries and whatnot. 

Of course I wasn't lucky like that. Of course. On the upside mine are small and I didn't even know I had them. I really want to start trying for a baby this year and this is just one more thing. Because Sickle Cell Trait isn't enough. All of that to say I'm waiting  to hear what's what. 

I know that less than 1% of fibroids are cancerous. That doesn't make me any less worried. 

Nothing left to do but hope for the best. 

Wish me luck. I need it. 

Thirty Fine

I originally drafted this post in Evernote (it's the jam, get into it)  the day after my birthday in November with the intent of posting it. Yeah, I know it's April but as infrequently as I come up in here ya'll better just let me prosper. I started this blog 10 years ago and it tickles me to no end how much my voice has changed and how much a lot of the shit I bellyached about just doesn't matter anymore. As I skid into my 40s this year I think I may start spending more time here since as always I have plenty to say and FB & Twitter won't really get it in terms of extended shade throwing and thought dropping. 

Anyhoo, here's the post...

November 29, 2013:
As I settle comfortably into my 39th year, I've begun to take inventory of all the things I'm thankful for. I've decided to list a few:

• I'm thankful that I know the difference between good booze and rotgut
• I'm thankful that I can appreciate the little pleasures like a perfectly sparkly nail polish, a nuzzle from my shadeful ass cat or when my husband pays me a sweet compliment
• I'm thankful that I know the magic of foundation garments. There are people that wander the earth never knowing it and looking a lumpy nightmare
• I'm thankful for truly wonderful friends who support me and drag me back to reality when required
• I'm thankful that I became an entrepreneur because working for other people was never a fit for me
• I'm thankful that I am experienced enough to know what and who really matters

Postscript - April 7th, 2014

With some health crap that has recently popped up for me, I'll be even more thankful for a healthy existence.

About Whitney

I remember the first time I heard her voice. It was the early 80s and I was 8 or 9 years old. It was a duet with Teddy P called Hold Me. She stole the whole damn thing. I looked at the label on the 45 (ya'll younguns can go Google it) and thought what kind of name is Whitney Houston? I didn't know but I loved her voice and wanted to hear more.



A year or two later I saw the face behind the voice that I loved on New York Hot Trax (A local video show for cats without MTV) it was the video for You Give Good Love. I remember thinking she looked just like my Black Barbie.  She had the same jumpsuit on in the video that my Barbie wore and everything.

I was friggen smitten. She was everything I wanted to be. Beautiful, elegant and generally fabulous. Her very existence meant so much to a skinny, awkward, knobby kneed Black girl growing up in the South Bronx in the crack 80s.


She was fucking everything during my formative years. She had something for everything you were going through at every age.



When I was 11 with a massive crush on a boy who didn't know I was alive How Will I Know got me through it.

When I was 17 and a budding feminist I'm Every Woman would get me and my crew of homegirls jammin at the freshman year parties. Later on I would toss my bouquet to it at my wedding.


When I was 18 and falling in love with my future husband Whitney spoke my heart with I Will Always Love You

When I was 20 and Waiting To Exhale came out and me and my girls went 25 deep to the theater and then came home and wore out Exhale (Shoop, Shoop) and sang Count On Me at the top of our lungs.

She gave me everything.

She gave us everything.

I'm going to skip all the struggle shit because that was part of her personal journey and as we'll all find out we don't really know her life just because we know her music.

She even said as much. We all think we know her because we saw her public life and whatnot and Nippy, being an around the way girl from the Dirty Jerz, would check a bitch real quick. And that made me love her ass just a little more.



What I do know is that she was in every way possible the voice of my generation and I'm gonna smile when her voice brings me a happy memory.

Thank you Nippy. I will miss you.

Things You Should Know About Me: Late 30s Edition

 

I wrote a post like this ages ago and figured it needed to be revisited now that I'm older. So here goes.

1. I STILL don't trust folks who don't cuss. If you stub your toe or drop your brand new iPhone in the street and don't let out a stream of expletives to make a sailor blush, you're immediately suspect to me.
2. I hate e-thugs. Folk feel too safe talking mad shit on the web. Don't be a G on the interwebs thinking that there is no chance of you meeting the subject of your e-thuggery and getting your ass beat to shit. 
3.  I don't like people. I really don't but somehow I've developed this social butterfly rep. Go figure.
4. I hate my neighbors. Specifically the hoodrats that fuck up what would be a lovely gentrification of my gorgeous hood with their powerful niggatry. Messing up my property value and shit. Fucking vampires. Yeah I said it. What?
5. I hate teenagers. Bunch of entitled little bastards. Most are loud and completely lacking in home training. I won't even leave my house after 3 pm because I know the little punks will be wandering all over after school.  Get off my lawn!
6. I hate working with and even worse for Millennials. They have no grasp of the seriousness of the workplace. They'll roll in on day one expecting to be CEO. They come in dressed like hookers or bums. They have crazy amounts of unearned arrogance which probably stems from the fact that a lot of them never learned to grind. Mainly because they were raised with the idea that they are delicate special little flowers and that everyone gets a trophy at the end of the game just for showing up. Fuck outta here with that bullshit.
7. I hate clubs. By that I mean the current state of club going. VIP sections, bottle service, folk posting up and fronting with no actual dancing. Seriously, bitches go to the club in 7 inch heels & skirts and shit up to their culos. For fucking what? Obvs not for dancing. Parties where you can come dressed to sweat have become niche events that happen infrequently as apposed to every friggin weekend. What a damn shame. It's just as well I suppose, since I'm too fucking old to deal with lines and glorified doormen with attitude.
8. I'm a booze snob. I've had a decade long love affair with Grey Goose, Patron, Leblon & other really tasty booze. Stoli, Baccardi, White Zinn, Ciroc, and other sundry crappy booze need not apply. The worst part of my recession/unemployed life is that I've been lowered to drink off brand booze. The other sucky thing is that hoodrats have spoiled stuff that I've always liked and now can barely enjoy like Moscotto. It was my fave dinner ending dessert wine and now I can barely look at it if I see it on a menu. For shame!
9. I'm Bougie and I own it. But most who know me folks know that already. For the folks who don't here's an education. I don't see anything inherently wrong in Booge. I'm educated and I paid good money and went into debt to get it and I'll rep that education because I hustled hard for it and I refuse to dumb myself down to make anyone feel comfortable with their shortcomings. I like nice things, I speak the King's English and I can code switch and tap into my South Bronx self should folks forget what time it is. I demand and expect service if I'm paying for it, respect and common sense if I'm not. So If I treat you like a moron because you're failing to hold up your end in life or in service to me, don't be mad. Do better. Or be mad because a fuck I cannot give.
10. I genuinely enjoy being married. But most folks who know me know that too. I get offended when folks speak of marriage like it's some kind of cross to bear. If that's the case for you then you fucked up and married the wrong person and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't project the fact that you lead a life of not so quiet desperation on to me and mine.  I always say that when you marry someone, you should view them as your teammate. Can you build with this person? Do you LIKE them? Do they like you? How do you benefit from being with them? What do they bring to your life? If you can't answer those questions in the affirmative then cut your losses and stop complaining to everyone you meet about it. Even worse, stop fronting like you're 'bout it when everyone knows you aren't.

So that's it. I'm pretty certain I have other shit to list and if I feel the need I'll do it. If not, screw it.