Yes, They've Finally Made Me Bonkers

To All of My Coworkers:

I sit near the printer
I do not fix jams
Nor do I replace toner
If your document didn’t print
Take it up with management.
Again, I only sit near the printer

How is your paper jam my problem?
You think I know the right way to hit it
The divine secret behind making it spit
Newsflash: I DON’T
So I’ll keep giving you a blank stare
Or my frown, my terrible thug mug
Until you get a clue
And go away.

I sit next to the printer
So when you print your credit report
Your elaborate expenses
Your fudged time sheets
Your receipts for your mistress
Guess who has the first peek?
That would be me.
Let’s work together, shall we?

Photo from http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/funny-pictures-your-printer-has-a-kitten-in-it.jpg

The (Late) Sunday Spin (**‘Church was Great. It’s like God told the pastor my secrets & then I got a good loving talking to straight from upstairs")

1. I had a one-day weekend, which is why this post is late

2. That one-day weekend was held on Sunday, which was spent househunting

3. It’s amazing the things that can turn you off of a neighborhood immediately

4. Like the sight of a woman with an unfortunate shade of burgundy hair

5. Or a bulletin board notice that gives notification of a sex offender living a few doors down

6. Or folks that look like they would kill you for parking too close to their car

7. But I survived, and the hunt continues!

(**Twitter quote from singer Chrisette Michelle**)

The Sunday Spin (*"I see a white door, and I'm going to paint it red")

1. Today was Eat All Your Leftovers Or Throw Them Out Day

2. So a few minutes ago, I gorged on turkey burgers, beans and broccoli

3. And now I feel quite full

4. I recently committed to going to the gym regularly again, ideally four days a week

5. That led to the discovery of a 6 am spinning class offered Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at my gym

6. "My name is Mark, and I'm an animal", was how the instructor introduced himself to me

7. He wasn't lyin

(*Tweet from actress Rachel True at 6:18 am Jan 27, 2010*)

On Reunions, Teen Rebellions & Absolutely NOT Driving Drunk

I’m truly convinced Heather hates me.

Heather and I go way back, we’re cool peeps. I knew her back when folks were just starting to realize how much she resembled Winona Ryder. She knew me when I started my first act of rebellion – shaving my legs against my mother’s wishes. (Deep scandal, I know) We roamed that hallowed hell of high school together and we’re all the better for it.

Every once in awhile, I’ll hear from her. We’ll catch up through email on what we’ve been up to and how our lives have turned out. I’m satisfied with knowing that we’re both doing well, but she always has to push the convo one step further and ask the dreaded question – will I be available for the high school reunion? There’s one big convo ender for me.

I have nothing against high school reunions. I went to my five year and had a pretty decent time. I found that as much as things changed, they remained the same. No matter how much all of us tried to stretch beyond the barriers of our usual cliques, a lot of us simply evolved into the adult era of cliquedom: The Marrieds, The Singles, The Parents, The Screw Ups Who Became Somebody, The Somebodies Who Became Screw Ups, etc. It was that single event that helped me realize that I didn’t need any more high school people in my life. I didn’t want to be surrounded around people who knew me When. I wanted to be surrounded by people who know me Now. No more high school reunions for me.

The closest I got to a reunion was a few years ago when a close friend, It’s Always the Quiet Ones, got married to a new boyfriend after calling off her first wedding. A bunch of us got caught up on our lives, high-school reunion style, when the convo turned to our friend Bubbly, who wasn’t there. I’d been living out of state and had been out of touch with all that had been happening in Bubbly’s life – new career, marriage, kids … and the fact that her younger sister had been killed by a drunk driver the year before.

It shocked me because I’ll always remember Bubbly’s Sister as the cute babyfaced girl who followed her sister everywhere. The two of them were very close and I’ll never forget how hurt Bubbly’s Sister was when Bubbly started dating the Absolute Wrong Guy. Thankfully, she didn’t marry him, and their relationship survived.

Bubbly and I were able to catch up through Facebook recently and I was able to send my condolences, albeit they came about six years after the fact. Each year, she and her family participate in the MADD walk to celebrate her sister’s memory and raise money to get drunken drivers off of the streets. The event is being held next month and I signed up. It’s Always The Quiet Ones may attend, along with some other folks from our teenage circle. I’m looking forward to raising money for a good cause and catching up with old friends, sans the judgment and the cattiness.

So it looks like a mini high school reunion is being formed after all, one on our own terms. Don’t tell Heather.

Photo from http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/amc0300l.jpg

The Sunday Spin ("I wish I liked anything as much as white people love The Wire"**)

1. The weather has been so beautiful, that it's hard to believe that this was my life just two months ago

2. And in just another two months, I imagine this will be my reality yet again, since the cost to repair my car's air conditioning is more than I'm willing to spend

3. I'm hearing mixed reviews about the newest Tyler Perry flick, 'Why Did I Get Married Too'

4. One friend called it an abortion of a movie, another said it showed how communication was key in relationships

5. I'm extremely excited about what's going to happen in the next half hour

6. And that'll be the series premiere of Treme, the latest HBO flick

7. I've also been enjoying an older HBO series -- Rome -- on dvd. Oh Netflix, how I love thee!

Have a great week everybody!

(**Writer Mat Johnson via Twitter at 6:12 p.m. 12/27/09)

Hard Dick vs Soft Bubblegum (Is There Really Any Choice?)

The oversharing award of the week goes to my baby cousin, who kept us all on the edge of our seats as to whether or not she would be staying with her children’s father. (They have three kids, ages 3,2, and 1) She announced that if he wasn’t trying to put a ring on it by the end of the week, she’d be gone. And lo and behold, I open facebook one day to learn that she is single. That was followed up with a status message that said something like “After eight years, I’m tired of a life of hard dick & bubblegum. I need a real man to take care of me and my kids.”

After reading this update, it was clear to me that I needed to provide some guidance to my relative. Clearly, the girl needed me. So I promptly sent her my comment: “Never underestimate the power of good bubblegum.”

Now, you may think it’s amusing, but there is power in those little sticks. I mean, at least they're long lasting. Whenever there was hardship in my life, I turned to gum. Maybe it’s for the simple fact that growing up, my mother was strict and refused to give me any candy. And maybe it’s for the fact that the Neighborhood Candy Lady knew my mother’s rules and did everything she could to corrupt me. Or maybe it’s for the simple fact that I have little self control over some things. Here are a few examples:

*Bubblicious: Yeah, this is an old school treat, but it hits the spot. I was going to a brutal personal trainer sometime in 2003-2004. He developed this great workout plan for me, one that required my meals to consist of nothing more than four smoked turkey slices for breakfast, fat free yogurt for a snack, salad of nothing more than letttuce and tomatoes for lunch, and dinner of chicken and green beans. Eventually, I learned that some people were given treats in their meals, like oatmeal! And apples! I became so angry that I would sit in a little corner and chew my sorrows away on Bubblicious. God help anyone who asked me for a piece.

*Orbitz, Trident: Ever worked at a job that wreaked of misery, but your coworkers were pretty darn cool? That was me a few years ago…. And who am I kidding? It’s me now. The most exciting part of my job was the constant moving around – from a quaint house that once was a children’s store to a small office that shared a wall with a tutoring center and finally to a massive corporate building that had a convenience store attached. We went to the convenience store several times a day, and our prized possessions were gum. Rumors of a hostile takeover? Orbitz! A supervisor quit? Trident! Your project is being dismantled? Dentyne! Someone else is sleeping with a boss and getting promoted? Dentyne on Ice!

These days, my go-to gum has been Stride. It comes with quite a zingy scent that fills up my purse whenever I open it. Here’s how the gum helps me these days:

*Trey Songz: Ever heard him sing ‘You Belong To Me’, ‘I Invented Sex’ or my personal life story ‘Neighbors Know My Name’? Ummm …. Yeah. Ever seen the videos? Schwooo. Do I even need to explain? Everytime he comes on, I turn the station and pop two pieces of orange flavored Stride.

*My Neighbors: Yes, Trey Songz wrote a song about me. I am the neighbor forced to listen to the people above me get down and dirty whenever the moment strikes them. Yes, I know his name. It's actually Mike. Not Ohhh!!! Or Ohhhhhh God!!!, which I thought it was before. Three slices of the red Stride, please. And hurry.

*The Tudors: Jonathan Rhys Meyers wearing next to nothing, speaking old English and screwing any female that moves? Time to cancel HBO and indulge in five packs of the peppermint flavor.

You see? Choosing a life of bubblegum is not that difficult. Unfortunately, Baby Cuz wasn’t interested in my lifestyle choices. She and ole boy are back together again. Next time I see her, she better not even think of asking me for any gum.

(Photo from http://halfninja.files.wordpress.com/2007/06/stride.jpg)

The Sunday Spin ("What's the qualification to get a job as a music critic? My drunk uncle Pooky can do that job."** )

1. I woke up this morning (well, afternoon if you want to get technical about it) and decided that 33 is going to be my year

2. That means I'll be having a Labor Day party at my own house or condo

3. That I'll complete a draft of my thesis this summer, and go into the fall semester just putting the finishing touches on it so I can complete my program by December

4. That I'll be putting some serious thought into self publishing these short stories I've written over the years. If anyone has any advice on self publishing, please let me know.

5. In the meantime, I had a fabulous belated birthday weekend where my parentals treated me to a dinner at the steakhouse of my choice, where I gorged on a meal of lambchops, spinach, sweet potato casserole with peacans and a smidgen of chocolate cake

6. My mommy treated me like a kid by presenting my gifts in an Easter basket, but I was happy to get it, especially those jelly beans!!!

7. Be sure to return in the upcoming week for future posts about the power of bubblegum, liner notes and whatever other deep thoughts come to me

Have a good week everyone!

**Quote from Erykah Badu, via Twitter, 10:51 p.m., April 3, 2010**

Discovering Greatness ... A Little Too Late

I didn't know the Undercover Black Man, but I wish I did. I was only vaguely familiar with his blog, but I've been going there reading the archives quite frequently after learning that UBM, an alter ego for TV writer David Mills, died from a brain aneurysm this past week.

His name didn't ring any bells with me as I read the various obituaries and tributes that ran in different newspapers. It's surprising that I wasn't familiar with him, since he did go to my alma mater, worked with David Simon, another distinguished alumnus, and was a writer for both Homicide: Life on the Streets and The Wire, which was one of my favorite programs. He was also set to work with Simon on Treme, an HBO show that seems to deal with life in post-Katrina New Orleans. He wrote his last blog post about the show, along with several others.

I'm ashamed to say that I've only been perusing the blog after learning about his death. But I do have some favorite posts, like the one where he lists recording artists who were convicted of murder; 'Run, N-gger Run', where he lists the lyrics of a catchy old time tune; and one where he calls out folks for pretending to be Indian. He also provided little known historical data, like giving a bio on the country's first non white vice president.

I've been late in discovering greatness before. I was an adult before I read 'Go Tell it On the Mountain' and 'Giovanni's Room', the latter helping me realize how much I loved James Baldwin. And just last year, my guitar teacher has got me playing songs by the Beatles and their tracks are in constant rotation (John Lennon was THE TRUTH). I'm now learning 'Don't Let Me Down', which faces stiff competition from 'My Life' for being my favorite Beatles song. (I've become so enamored with them that a friend has nicknamed me The Ladybug)

I had already known I was going to watch Treme when it premieres in a few weeks. But now I'll do so with the UBM, or David Mills, in mind. Rest in peace, Mr. Mills.

Today's Lesson: Work Hard, Nap Harder

I don't go back to work until Wednesday, and I've truly been enjoying my time away from the office. That doesn't mean I haven't been productive. In the past few days, I've managed to do my taxes, work on my thesis, plead to get reinstated into the grad program in the fall, pay bills and get my daily writing tasks in.

But there comes a time when you've just got to lay back on that bed and let the sandman take over. Most of my life, I didn't like naps. When I was a kid, I never wanted to go to bed. I mean, who did? As an adult, I thought naps were a waste of time. I was usually too wired up to nap anyway. And if I were to nap, I was the rare person who needed to fool myself into believing it was nighttime in order to go to sleep. That meant putting on some pajamas, closing the shades and getting under the covers. I'm so glad I got out of that foolishness.

Nowadays, the only thing I need to put me into a coma is my cat. There are times when I'll be watching television and The Animal just hops up beside me and closes his eyes. That makes me jealous and next thing I know, I'm out for the count. That happened at least twice today. I had a good night's sleep, mind you. Then I took a nap at 4 p.m., followed by another one at 5:15 p.m. All because of my lovely pet. And because his latest game is to follow me where ever I may go and cuddle up to me, naps may become an increasing part of my life. I can't say I'm complaining.


Photo from http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/strollerderby/2007/07/16-22/nap%20time.jpg

The Sunday Spin (Or, "They sleep; I grind"**)

1. I had a FABULOUS birthday weekend

2. It started with seeing my homie in a play (she did a FANTASTIC job, I might add)

3. And it ended just a few minutes ago, with some delicious sushi

4. That was almost enough to make me forget the meeting I had with my professor

5. The one where she told me she wanted to nominate me for a significant monetary award, but couldn't, because I haven't been enrolled in the program

6. My response was to enroll in the fall, get back on my thesis grind and hope upon hopes that this money becomes available in the fall (apparently that is a possibility)

7. Now I'm sitting back, flipping between Celebrity Apprentice and How to Make It in America (Bryan Greenberg + Victor Rasuk = YUM) and am so glad that I don't have to work tomorrow.

Have a good week everybody!

**Quote from Erykah Badu, via Twitter, at 5:28 a.m. February 24, 2010**

Celebrate World Tuberculosis Day (Or, Celebrate My Birthday)

So today was my birthday and what did I do? For the first time EVER, I went to work. I only did that because I've been taking homeownership classes which are right near my office, so I figured I might as well work. I am off the rest of the week though, so that's good.

I have a coworker who said she always goes to work on her birthday, just to feel special from all the people who wish her a happy birthday. I thought she was pretty pathetic until this year. Now, I can be pretty obnoxious about my special day, but I'd like to think I'm only that way with friends and family, NOT the coworkers. If it weren't for Facebook, alot of folks wouldn't have known today was my day. But they figured it out, and here is how they made me feel special:

-A friend hand delivered to me a breakfast from Whole Foods -- French toast, eggs and bacon, along with my favorite Kiwi Strawberry drink
-Coworker tied a HUGE 'Happy Birthday' balloon to my chair and gave me a happy birthday pin, so I got more than my fair share of happy birthdays
-My immediate supervisor made cupcakes -- WITH 33 CANDLES ON EM!! -- and brought them out to me. I even managed to blow them all out. There's still some air left in me!
-My supervisor also gave me a snazzy pink scarf and a card from Hoops & Yoyo at Hallmark
-My aunt wrote my a birthday poem

So yeah, it all made me feel warm and fuzzy inside! And that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the number of phone calls, texts, emails and Facebook messages I got for my special day. Now I'm sitting back, waiting for my birthday pizza to arrive, and thinking about how I'll celebrate this weekend, because, as you know, birthdays are a weeklong celebration. =)

Random factoids about March 24:
-Tommy Hilfiger, Peyton Manning and Alyson Hanigan all share my birthday (So does Star Jones, but I don't brag about that one)
-The movie 'The Breakfast Club' takes place on one of my birthdays. It opens up with the line 'March 24, 198---' I can't remember which year, I think it was 1987. Shrug
-March 24 is also World Tuberculosis Day
-March 24, 1980 was sadly the day Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador was killed. I remember learning about this in Spanish class and being traumatized that such a horrible event could happen on such a wonderful day

Anyway, 33 has been treating me well so far. I look forward to having a healthy and prosperous Jesus year!

(Photo from http://www.thelifeofriley.org/uploads/images/birthday_33.jpg)

The Sunday Spin

1. I'm so happy the weather has finally broke, time to unleash the skin

2. I'm borderline OCD, so each March I'm faced with the same challenge -- to do a bracket or not

3. This year, I took i there: I've got three brackets going, two paid & one unpaid

4. Let's just say it doesn't look like I'll be winning any prizes, monetary or not (Big thanks going out to Kentucky, Georgetown, Maryland)

5. I have to spend the day after my birthday chatting with a professor I greatly admire, and greatly fear

6. The United States of Tara comes back on tomorrow and I'm too excited about that!

7. My local Blockbuster closed, so I switched back to Netflix. Now watching Damages Season 2. Glenn Close plays evil so well!

Have a good week everybody!

For Dreadlocked Girls Who Have Considered Scissors & Relaxers When The Hairdresser Has Had Enough

My world stopped last week when my hairdresser called. She was having an emergency and wouldn't be able to do my hair that evening. The situation was so dire, that she didn't know when she would be able to do my hair again. So I did what I could do, I comforted Hairdresser, offered words of support, then I hung up the phone and ....

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SCREAMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You see, Hairdresser is a close family friend. Ok, ok, she's family. There was a time when she had her own shop and I was comforted by the nice, easy banter among us women. Sure, I was often abused ('How long are you gonna make me stay here tonight & deal with your wool, Strength?'), interrogated ('Do you have a goal for this hair? Your locs are already down your back!') and teased ('Is this a gray hair or is this your cat? Oh, it's a gray hair!'). My favorite part of the shop was the way said Hairdresser would greet me, with a hand on her hip and a firm "What do you want?"

But all good things must come to an end, I guess. Economics forced Hairdresser to close up shop and start working at The Hair Shop and Salon. Things are different there. For example, someone answers the phone with a robotic "Thank you for calling the Hair Shop and Salon, where we experience beauty and wellness. What are your wellness needs today?"Each time someone washes your hair they say something like "It was my pleasure to service you." Have I mentioned how much they charge? I mean, I expected to pay a pretty penny for this thick head of hair. But they charge extra for EVERYTHING. An extra $10 just to cut the strands off the locs? Seriously?

So when The Hairdresser couldn't do my hair, that left me with few options. I could either go to The Hair Shop or do it myself. (Or obey my mother and get a relaxer) Clearly, I chose the latter. I've washed and styled my own hair before, but I try to avoid doing it because it's such a time consuming process. Thankfully, I did a lot of googling and youtube research to find the best way to get through this head.

Things actually went well, especially since I'm madly in love with my shampoo. I washed, I twisted, I oiled, I blowdryed, I cornrowed. Boy, it took some time! But I managed to get this head in one big ole braid and got nothing but compliments the next day. Hooray!

But I truly need my Hairdresser to return to locking form, with a quickness.


Photo from http://www.naani.com/contents/media/6fd42c7c0.jpg

The Sunday Spin

1. It has been a great week, which started out with the birth of Baby Extreme!

2. Baby Extreme was originally supposed to be born on my favorite holiday, but she just couldn't wait.

3. I guess I'll forgive the little tyke, since she was born on Robin Thicke's birthday, and ya'll know how I feel about him.

4. It's a three-day weekend for me, since tomorrow is a furlough day, so I spent today hanging out with my girls

5. Corey Haim's death has saddened me, and it makes me want to see 'Lucas' once again

6. A purse caught my eye at the Kenneth Cole store this weekend, and even though I left it there

7. I'm gonna go right back and buy it. That purse has been haunting my dreams, and hey, it's my birthday month! Time to spoil me!

Have a good week!

The Sunday Spin (or Your Screaming Orgasm vs My Stereo?)

1. I'm happy to report that I finally took the comprehensive exam that will take me one step closer to my master's degree
2. A 6-hour test ain't no joke, ya'll
3. Once it was over, I literally cleared my table of all my notes and dumped them in the trash. So I better have passed!
4. My loud upstairs neighbors had the nerve to report me to our leasing company, saying that I WAS TOO LOUD
5. That forced me to have a chat with them where I let them know everything I hear -- snoring, footsteps, the TV, whole conversations, them having sex
6. Dude finally understood where I was coming from and we shook on it. I'm so glad it didn't get ugly
7. I need to go clothes shopping in the worst way, but I'm not finding anything. Sigh.

Have a good week!

So Long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Goodnight

Well, February, you were the best of times, you were the worst of times.

You brought epic amounts of snow to my little patch of home. You caused me to eat much more than I thought humanly possible. Your winds shook my apartment, rattled my little car and whipped through me as I headed off somewhere to eat or sleep.I reached a level in my Seasonal Affective Disorder that I didn't know existed. February, you were brutal.

However, there were some bright spots. You did bring back the return of my much awaited Lost. I did have good music this month – Sade and Corinne Bailey Rae. And some of your epic snowstorms actually prevented me from going to work on days when I really didn’t want to go. For that, February, I thank you.

But I do think my biggest accomplishment this month is the new lease I signed on my apartment complex. Now, I no longer have a yearlong commitment to the lovely people who run my complex. That means, for a rent increase of nearly $40, I am on a month to month policy. I can give these mofos .. errr, lovely people, a two month notice on when I’m vacaating the premises and they can like it or lump it. This simple move is one of the many steps I’ve taken toward homeownership. I checked out a pile of library books on the subject – I’ll get to them after my exam this weekend – and I’m signing up for weekly homeownership classes that meet Wednesday evenings this month. Good times.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty I’ll miss about my apartment building. We’ve been together since 2006. Hanging tough. I like the fact that maintenance can come and fix any serious problems (albeit leave the door unlocked when they do). I like that my neighbor’s 5-year-old daughter feels comfortable enough with me that she can bang on my door when no one answers the door at her place. I can enjoy the soothing sounds of my upstairs neighbor’s snoring and constant passion with his woman, almost as much as I enjoy his coming downstairs to to tell me when my music or television is too loud. I can’t begin to express the gratitude I feel for that person/people who smokes on the steps, goes through my newspaper and tosses it around, or leaves our conrolled entrance door unlocked so that the entire town can come in and have a good time.

So, dear February, it’s been real. But like with my current place of residence, it is time to say goodbye.

Photo from http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/0f/39/c2/lawn-in-winter.jpg

The Sunday Spin

1. Look at me. I'm exhaustion.

2. Exhaustion is having to read/study nonstop in order to take a big time test this weekend

3. Exhaustion is trying to study, while working non stop

4. But I'll get through it, 'cause soon as I write this post, I'm going to bed

5. And then I'll be up at 5 a.m. so I can do more studying and work on draft 3 of my own book

6. In my test reading material, I'm now reading Virginia Woolf's 'To The Lighthouse,' which is pretty good in a crazy, stream of consciousness kind of way

7. And for those of you who were paying attention to last week's #7, my favorite movie is The Last Dragon. (I've mentioned that before) Anyway, they're trying to remake it with Rihanna. I do like her, but I've got mixed feelings abut her playing this part. Ah well.

Have a good week!

Happy?

I was always the type of kid that got into stuff I shouldn’t have. By stuff, I’m talking about books. I can’t remember a time in my life where I wasn’t able to delve into my mother’s massive book collection. No subject was off limits – I read novels with their fair share of violence, cursing, sex and anything else that most folks want to shield from a kid’s eyes. But I was lucky to have a mother who was just grateful that I was reading, so she never censored anything I’d read.

So I was particularly young when I started reading Terry McMillan. At the time, she was the only contemporary black author around that I felt comfortable reading. Toni Morrison was too far over my head; same goes for Alice Walker. (things have changed and I’ve learned to love their work) I was more comfortable reading about the dysfunctional family in Mama, the on-again, off-again lovers in Disappearing Acts and the friendships in Waiting to Exhale.

Waiting to Exhale wasn’t my favorite Terry book; I thought it was just okay. But I was pleased to see it being made as movie and went to see it opening weekend, if I do remember correctly. Disappearing Acts was my favorite book – actually that’s in a close tie with Mama – and I still have the HBO movie version of the book on a VHS tape somewhere. I learned recently that Terry has written a sequel to W2E and that’ll be released this fall. ‘Getting To Happy’ will revisit the women 15 years from where they left off in the original book.

Let me just give that a big fat no. Albeit, I have an immediate bias against sequels that come like hundreds of years after the original (i.e. Back to the Future 2; Sisters & Husbands, the sequel to Connie Briscoe’s Sisters & Lovers, etc). I mean, if it takes the writers that long to figure out the plot, what makes me think it’s going to be any good? So already my expectations for W2E 2 are low, very low.

The thing about it is, I can’t think of many characters in that book with a storyline worth revisiting. Maybe Robin, who wound up pregnant and abandoned by her married lover, yet in the book was giving overweight Michael a second chance. (the latter was overlooked in the movie). Gloria (Loretta Devine’s character) seemed like she was getting the happy ending she was looking for and Savannah was being open minded about dating again. Bernadine (Angela Bassett) had started living with a new man (portrayed by Wesley Snipes in the movie). I wonder if a sequel to the book will mean a sequel to the movie too? Hmmm.

I’ve been proven wrong before, I’d be happy to be proven wrong again. In all honesty, I think W2E might have been the last Terry book I’ve read. I loved the movie version of How Stella Got Her Groove Back, but I never read the book. I do remember that the movie helped me realize that Angela Bassett is THE TRUTH. Generally, cigarrettes gross me out, but I desperately wanted to smoke one with her when she set her husband’s clothes on fire. There was a lot of passion behind those puffs.

I do remember W2E being one of the few times back then where black folks were on the big screen and there was no gunfire. I enjoyed that. It was also the first in a long line of examples I saw of somewhat similar stories that portrayed black woman as being unhappily single because all black men are gay/on drugs/in prison/dogs/into white women/etc. I didn’t enjoy that.

But I’m interested in seeing what the new W2E will bring. Listen to Terry talk about it here.

Photo from http://blogs.bet.com/entertainment/whattheflick/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/angela-bassett-waiting_l.jpg

The Sunday Spin

1. I didn't have to work my part-time gig today, so this has been my Overindulgence Day

2. That means I got 12 hours of sleep

3. I cooked and consumed a massive breakfast -- eggs, turkey bacon, oatmeal and tea

4. I also ate a massive amount of oatmeal raisin cookies on the Eve of Overindulgence Day

5. Now I'm forcing myself to go to the gym and study

6. March 6 is D.Day for me -- as in I have to take a comprehensive exam that is required for me to get my master's degree. Then I'll have to focus on that pesky thesis.

7. Did you hear that Terry McMillan has written a sequel to Waiting to Exhale, and it will be published this fall? And did you hear about what they're trying to do to my favorite movie of all times? If the answer is no to either one of these questions, best believe I will be providing my thoughts in upcoming posts.

Now it's off to the gym! Have a good week everyone!

"These Hips Are Magic Hips ..."

I was saddened to hear about the death of poet Lucille Clifton recently. Poetry is very hit or miss for me. Generally, I enjoy it, alot, especially when the writer is the one doing the reading. But I don't go out of my way to read poetry collections (Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni and Georgia Douglas Johnson are the exception) or attend readings. This could be a side effect from a few years before when I thought I was dropping in on a brief spoken word event, which, instead, turned out to be THREE HOURS of someone screaming, then whispering their words. I'm still recovering.

Anyway, I was familiar with Lucille Clifton because she lived in my old neighborhood. However, I wasn't exposed to her poetry until maybe a year or so ago during a fiction class. My professor gave us a copy of her poem 'Here rests', which basically summed up her sister's life and personality in a few lines. The poem resonated with me because in some ways her sister reminded me of my Aunt BG, who is now in a nursing home raising all sorts of hell. (Let's just say that one nurse learned the hard way about telling my aunt to put out a cigarette.) Here's the poem:

here rests

by Lucille Clifton

my sister Josephine

born july in '29

and dead these 15 years

who carried a book

on every stroll.

when daddy was dying

she left the streets

and moved back home

to tend him.

her pimp came too

her Diamond Dick

and they would take turns

reading

a bible aloud through the house.

when you poem this

and you will she would say

remember the Book of Job.

happy birthday and hope

to you Josephine

one of the easts

most wanted.

may heaven be filled

with literate men

may they bed you

with respect.

With poetry, I'm a big believer in hearing it READ by the writer, versus reading it yourself. So here's some audio of her doing a 'Homage to my Hips', which is where the title for this blog post was taken. But don't stop there. Please check out 'Miss Rosie', 'Blessing the Boats' and 'Wishes for Sons'. And take a moment to see her in action. Rest in peace, Miss Lucille.