Thursday, July 29, 2010

Three different sides to a woman

There are three different sides to a woman and depending on the situation, her mood, and her age determines how she will react, either as a bitch, a whore or a lady.

Since I’m doing my best to keep this a family friendly blog, let’s just give a fictional name to the three personalities above.



Lady- Evelyn

(Now since I don’t know anyone with the above names,they are not a reference to ANYONE)


You’re out and about with your boyfriend and a beautiful woman walks by and you notice he turns his head to get a better look at her.

Karin would say “Who you looking at? I know you didn’t just turn around and look at her, not while I’m sitting here!” Before she proceeds to drop his drink in his lap.

Tiffany would say to herself, “Hmmm, that guy over there keeps giving me the eye, I wonder if I can sneak off to the bathroom to get his number.”

Evelyn would quietly take note of his lack of respect and later delete his number from her phone.


The man you’re dating tells you he has five kids by three different baby mama’s.

Karin would say “OH HELL NAWWWW!!! You need to get to stepping!”

Tiffany would say “OH HELL NAWWW!!! I can’t have sex with you, your stuffs a little too potent!

Evelyn would say “Oh that’s nice.” While later deleting his number out of her phone.


You get a call after ten pm for a booty call.

Karin would say “I KNOW this fool ain’t calling me after 10 pm for no booty call, knowing I haven’t heard from his behind all week or day long but he wants to call me to see if he can come over! CLICK!”

Tiffany would say “ Yeah I can do that, that’ll work..that’ll work.”

Evelyn would politely decline and say “But if you want to hook up again maybe you can call me earlier and you can take me out on a date or something.”


Your mate asks you to get up after a bout of lovemaking to make him some breakfast.

Karin would say “What! I just got through sucking your…You need to get up and make me breakfast!”

Tiffany would say “Huh…you want me to make you breakfast. How bout this? Why don’t you make me breakfast and I’ll do that thing that you like.”

Evelyn would say “Sure baby, you rest.” While thinking, sure I’ll make his breakfast to show him I’m just as good in the kitchen as I am in the bedroom.


Your boyfriend tells you he wants to take you to meet his family.

Karin says to herself “Hmmmm I wonder what these bitches are going to be like?”

Tiffany says to herself “ Hmmm, I wonder what these bitches are going to be like?”

Evelyn would say “He wants me to meet his family! Yay!!!”

Enhanced by Zemanta

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Tryin to look cute at the gym

Ok, so my birthday rolls around and I decide hey, this extra ten pounds I have gained has to go! Sorry ten pounds you would have been good to stay if you had landed at the right spots like the behind or the boobs, I may have been happy.
But NOOOO you decide to take up residency in my arms and lower stomach.. Sorry but I have to give you an eviction notice! You got three months to get out!
Sorry I digress, for the past three weeks I have been going to my companies gym.  I wore the biggest t-shirts I could find, thank you ex- boyfriends you were good for something! And a pair of jogging pants! Hey, I was ready to seriously work this weight off!
Problem is at my companies gym, the weights face the elliptical machines and the elliptical machines  face the mirrors. Now I love the elliptical machine, it works every part of your body, arms, butt, legs and stomach.  At my old job, you had to take a number to use it, no seriously, take a number as the four they had was always in use.
Well, I could barely contain my excitement, when I saw that all three were free to use at my new jobs gym.
No waiting in line here, Yippee!
I jumped on, starting striding to start the quick start, when I look up into about six pair of eyes, all following my movements. Oh...ok... now I know why these suckers were free!
But I'm not going to let you knock my hustle, I got three months, no excuses!
So every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I deal with being the entertainment. Yep, I know I could go to another gym or work on one of the treadmills that are across the room. Nope, the elliptical is my friend and I won't leave it. Even it means I'm sweating like a pig and my breathing sounds like moose in heat, in front of may I say some attractive guys. Even though I must admit, I do pray they don't recognise me on the street and say "Hey aren't you that girl I see at the gym, you know the one sounds like she's having a heart attack, you may want to get that looked at."
Well at least not until I can fit back into my size nine again. Then they can recognise me all they want.
I told a co worker at work about the gym and how the elliptical machines are stationed. Intrigued she asked "Right in front of all the guys?"
"Yep. You have to be a brave cookie to workout in front of guys." Sorry but it's true, no woman wants to look like a limp rag in front of men. Well at least not this woman...but I'm on a mission dang it!
"When are you going again?"
"Thursday." I replied. I didn't ask her if she wanted to go. I didn't see a reason to, she doesn't look as though she needs to lose any weight and from a previous conversation we had I learned that she runs everyday.
But sure enough that next Thursday, there she was! In her yoga pants, low cut halter top looking like she just stepped off the cover of training day magazine. And there I was in my three times as big t-shirt and jogging pants that covered every part of my body.
We make our way over to the elliptical, when she says low under her breath, "There are some  cuties in here."
I just shook my head at her. Hey, I have conserve my breath, I have work to do here. As we exercise I see a guy in the back... well a couple of guys in the back watching her every move.
She leans over "That cute blond guy in the back just winked at me."
I just smile and nod, (still conserving breath here.)
Well I'm not going to say I wasn't slightly relieved. At least all eyes were not on me that day.
Until, forty minutes into the workout , she steps off the elliptical but the fabric on her left pants leg  must have gotten snagged in one of the foot peddles and she falls flat on her face. Barely missing the base of my machine.
I jump off and bend down to make sure she was alright as most of the rest of the gyms patrons rush over including the cute guy whom she had been flirting with. We see that the bottom of her yoga pants had in some way tangled itself in one of the crevices of the paddle. And when she fell, her pants pulled down embarrassingly showing her left butt cheek. I won't say we were mooned but we were sunned. See she has a tattoo of the sun on her left butt cheek.
The blond guy whom she had been flirting with leans over heroically to loosen the pants leg from the machine. I lean over her to cover her up as it seemed the more he pulled the more skin appeared!
I can say I have never seen a persons whole body turn a deep red until that day.  She was so mortified!  Finally he was able to rip it free and we helped her up and into the locker room where she quickly changed without much as a word to me before she left, her skin still the color of a tomato.
Now I have to admit, I had admired her outfit, I thought it was cute. I even thought hey a few more weeks of working out, I should be able to fit in some yoga pants and top just like hers.
After seeing her embarrassment. I decided that my workout gear is just fine, no need to go trying to look cute at the gym.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Monday, July 19, 2010

What does he do for you?

I came into work today to find one of my coworkers glowing, smiling and humming to herself, something quite out of the ordinary for her. Usually she is quiet, keeps mostly to herself and very rarely smiles, hey she deals with government contracts, I kind of understood why she doesn't.
So I just had to ask, "Carol (made up name by the way), anything good happen over the weekend?"
She leaned over to me conspiratorially "My boyfriend came into town this weekend." Her boyfriend lives out of town and tries to come up to see her every other weekend.
"Really?" I asked, I had no idea she had a boyfriend. "Well, the visit must have done you good because you're acting as though you won the lottery."
She sighed and sat back and said "I feel that I have. Girl you just don't know. I never expected someone to come into my life and make me feel like anything is possible. That all the dreams that I have for myself will come true. Like if I wanted to fly to the moon, I can do it. His belief and support of me makes me just feel that I can just do anything."
"Wow, being with him does that to you?"
She paused before she answered, "Yes he does."
So that brings me to my question?
What does your spouse, mate, boyfriend, girlfriend do for you?
Does your stomach tighten when he/she walks into a room.
Does your pulse quicken?
Can you not wait to see their face or hear their voice?
Does all the craziness of the day fade of away when their in your presence?
Does their love and support make you realize that any dream you have for yourself can be achieved if only you believed in yourself as much as they believe in you?

Saturday, July 17, 2010

When it's time to let go

We all go through life experiencing the pain of letting things go, when we were younger it was toys, clothes and other material items. As we got older we lost boyfriends and girlfriends,  friends, and/or family members.
Forming a relationship with someone takes time, trust and patience.
When time gets short or trust gets broken, you make the decision if it's worth fighting to hold on.
Is it?
Sometimes there is no choice given to you, suddenly the rug is pulled out from under you and you are left dazed and confused.
Wondering how, why,what did you miss that caused this heartache? What did you do?
Then there are those times when although the choice is hard, you do it because the roller coaster ride you've been on needs to stop.
Stop so you can get off and get on with your life.
But did you do the right thing? Was that roller coaster ride that bad? Weren't those ups worth those downs?

Enhanced by Zemanta

Thursday, July 15, 2010

When is too much vaseline tooo much vaseline?

FrightImage by Smithsonian Institution via Flickr
Ok I have to say I have an addiction to Vaseline, body oil and anything that makes your skin look supple and shiny!  Add a good smell to it, I'm buying it! I should own stock in Carol's Daughter products.  I love their Almond Butter body oil. It smells sooooo good! And it leaves your body all nice and shiny and supple. But one day I ran out of it and had not had the chance to run to the store to restock my supply, that day was the day I became addicted  to vaseline.
 I found that most of my friends especially the African American ones use a healthy amount of vaseline too. In the winter months its really beneficial to those dry spots, like the bottoms of your heels, your elbows but even in the summertime, adding some to your body right after a shower gives you a nice shine.
I was thinking this way after getting invited to a friends barbecue, before I made my way over I took a hot shower and added my body oil and vaseline, paying close attention to my feet.
Who wants to look like they have been kicking flour?
I made it to the barbecue, when my friend  asked if I would mind taking her around the corner to the grocery store for a quick food run. As we were going downstairs barefoot (I had left my sandals at the front door with the rest of the party members shoes, What did I care? My feet were shiny and purty from the vaseline I had put on about an hour earlier.) when my foot slipped from under me and I fell the ten steps down to the front door.
As I lay there shocked and hurting with my friend standing over me concerned and trying to make sure I didn't have any injuries. A thought crossed my mind.  Had I put too much vaseline on?

Enhanced by Zemanta

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Nope I don't feel sorry for Tiger at all

At a small get together a girlfriend and I were having a conversation about Tiger Woods wife, probably ending up with half of his money after their divorce, in which a male friend of ours interrupted and replied "She was nothing but a gold digger anyway."
The definition of a gold digger in street terms is a woman who goes after a man who has money and who entices said man into given up his loot for her maintenance, such as apartment, house, car, hair, nails, clothes etc...
Now I can't say that Tiger Woods wife is not a gold digger, heck I don't know the woman personally, but if she wasn't one before finding out he had stepped outside of their marriage with multiple women, I'm pretty sure she is now. And who can blame her?
I know, I know I can hear my male friends say but why does she have to take half, he worked for that money, she didn't? My answer would be, why did Tiger step outside his marriage? Not saying she didn't have part in the reason he felt a need to look somewhere else but if he wasn't happy, why didn't he just end the relationship with her and then he could have slept with as many women as he wanted and not one person would have said a thing.
He probably would have saved himself millions of dollars, if he had just stepped up and said hey this isn't working for me, I want out.
But instead he made her look like a fool, put her at risk for all types of disease and lied to her.
He needs to grow up take this gold digger punch like a man, stop following whats in between his legs and focus on his business and family.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

How old was he again?

So I went to dinner tonight with my friend "M". "M" had come upon a some bad news at work and needed some cheering up. So I invited him out for dinner. He showed up and we discussed the trials and tribulations of the company he works for (that I use to work for) is giving him about his pay.
While out we decide to stop in for a drink at a local restaurant. "M" needed a drink after the day he had and I totally agreed.
We saddled up to the bar and had a seat. After ordering our drinks, I noticed that "M" mouth had dropped open and he was staring in amazement over my left shoulder. Curious I turned to see to my pleasure what had grabbed his attention. A gorgeous and I mean gorgeous specimen of a man was standing there. Broad shouldered, six feet, beautiful brown skin, looked like he should be on the football field instead of waiting tables. Yep that's right he was a waiter!
Oh did I forget to mention that my friend "M" is gay and did I also forget to add he and I have the same taste in men. Which at first bothered me but "M" is always able to tell me if the guy we're both looking at is gay which helps because my gay radar never has seemed to work.
And "M's" radar wasnt going off this time, but this man looked young, not too young but younger than me.
So even though it was nice to look, there was nothing much I could do with that. Legal or not legal.
Wanting dessert, chocolate lots of chocolate,(coming off the my diet for one night couldn't hurt right? I'll just hit the elliptical machine for a twenty minutes longer tomorrow.) I order a brownie with ice cream. (OK another thirty minutes, dang!)
When it arrives, I dig in. I had just stuck the first spoonful in my mouth when "M" leaned over and said "What if I told the bartender that you would like to eat this brownie off the chest of that waiter over there?"
Now, mind you "M" usually says things to just see my reaction, but then there are those times he is serious. And at that moment he was serious as he has this goal to have me in a relationship and married (in someways he reminds me of my mother in that respect). But just to call his bluff I said "I don't care?" 
"M" sat back in his seat and studied me for a moment, before calling the bartender over. My pulse quickened, Oh crap he really is going to do it. But just as I was going to say Don't do it. He just orders another drink.
Relaxing I dig out another spoonful of brownie, enjoying the taste of the warm brownie and the vanilla ice cream. The bartender had just placed the new drink in front of "M" and was about to turn away when "M" says "Oh yeah, my friend here would like to eat the rest of her brownie off your that waiters chest."
Needless to say all I could do was to keep the food in my mouth, instead of blowing chunks of it all over the bar and bartender in horror.
I turn to my friend "M" and the look on his face was priceless, he had turn red and was trying hard not to laugh, which made me want to laugh until.........he looks over my shoulder again and says "Hey, that waiter is coming this way and he has a big smile on his face."
Not believing him, I turn back to my brownie and dig another spoonful out and into my mouth. "Whatever, M"
"No, I'm serious. He's coming this way."
Right then a shadow takes up my peripheral view and too embarrassed to look over, (yep, that's right I'm a coward.) I take a another bite of my brownie. When suddenly a large hand moves my brownie, my glass of water over to my right and a large body lays across the bar in front of me.
And this gorgeous guy says "I heard you had a request, is this where you want me?"
(OK, this may sound like a dream, but nooooo this really happened. Nope this wasn't a strip joint, just a regular restaurant.)
Mouth still full with brownie all I could say is hmmmmmmmmmm. And we hear the ladies who are next to us at the bar say "Hey is it her birthday or something? How does she get this special treatment? My birthday is next week."
Hmmmmmmmmm, yep that's all I could say. Fine as he was, he was wayyyyy to young for me. And after giving me a smile and wink he gets up and walks away.
How do I know he was too young, we asked the bartender. "Oh, he is 24, going to college, working here part time"
24! Oh brother, get me out of here! Yeah I know, he was legal, that's what "M" kept telling me as I tried to finish my dessert which didn't seem to be hitting the spot anymore.
Pushing it away, "M" paid for our bill (I had paid for our dinner earlier)
We got ready to go, as we head toward the entrance there stood gorgeous, "Have a good night." Winking at me again and all I could ask "M" as we headed out into the rain was "How old was he again?"

Don't Touch my Hair!

Don't touch my hair! I screamed at my gay white friend, who was reaching to stroke his fingers through my newly coiffed do. See I had just gotten it done. Spent about four hours in the salon chair, after getting up early Saturday morning, so I wouldn't be there all day.
Four hours! He couldn't believe it. He had never heard of a person spending that much time in a hair salon.
Did I mention he is white, handsome and very smart but has no clue about black women's hair so I had to school him on some facts.
First of all yes, in some black hair salons (note I said some) you spend hours upon hours just getting your hair done and please don't let it be the day you're getting a weave or heavens forbid your hair braided! Then you just might as well pack breakfast, lunch and dinner because you Will be there all day and almost all night, and that depends on if you got your hair appointment scheduled early enough. I have been known to get to the salon at seven am and not leave until ten pm.
This blew his mind! What the hell takes you almost over twelve hours to do? He asked.
This? I said pointing to my bouncy chemically straightened hair.
There is an art to black hair, you first have to find the right stylist and if she or he is worth their salt then you are constantly fighting for an opening on their schedule so they can do your hair, you don't care if you have to call in sick, tell your boss you have doctors appointment, if they have an opening at three p.m. on a Wednesday you go! Heck you might not get your hair done for another two weeks!
And you just can't have that!
So if it's so hard to get an appointment with your regular beautician, why don't you just go to another one?
he asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the twelve hours salon appointment.
I patted him gently on his knee and replied Because, you don't cheat on your stylist.
That's right the hardest thing to do, for all women and not just women of color is to cheat on their stylist.
They could have you waiting for hours as they take lunch, smoke a cigarette, chat on the phone. They can bump you down on their schedule because they forgot they had a meeting to go to, a child to pick up or a bill to go pay. They can totally disregard that you said you wanted to look like Halle Berry when you got out of their chair because see THEY know better, than you on what you want and the majority of the time they are right.
But you don't leave and you don't sneak off to another stylist because they will always know. And the one thing you don't want to do is have an angry beautician, who is applying chemicals and/or hot curling iron anywhere near your head!
Then he asked what is all this weave thing about?
Shrugging I answered it's no different than putting on makeup or adding false eyelashes. Women do it to add to their appeal to men. I do it because I like the low maintenance of it, I can workout, sweat the heck out of a weave, go home shampoo it an it bounces back. If I were to sweat my own hair out, it would sweat out the chemical straightener faster and it would go back to it's tight curl faster, thus ruining all that time I spent in the salon getting it straightened.
Not that I don't mind my natural state of my hair, the curly Afro that tries to come out and say hello between hair appointments. It's just that I hadn't seen it natural since I was eight years old and I'm a little scared of what would happen if I went back all natural.
Which would take me cutting all of my chemically straightened hair off down to the roots to start fresh. That means having an appearance of a bald woman. Not knocking the women with the bald look but you have the nicely shaped head for it. I don't believe I do...... or that could be the fear talking.
I have thought about it though; as I sat in the waiting room of my stylist salon waiting for her to call me to her chair. But then I thought about all the magazines that say men love women with long hair, and what would my mother say when she saw me with no hair? She would probably have a heart attack. Then the last and final thought is what would I do with my natural hair? How would I manage it? All I've ever known for the majority of my life was the chemically straightened hair and with much practice learned how to take care of it.
But I'm telling you, as I sat trying to explain all of this to my friend even I realized the craziness in it. So I leaned over and said go ahead and touch it.
In which he replied That's OK, I don't want to be the one to mess it up.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Monday, July 12, 2010

Angry Black Woman I'm Not

I created this blog because I didn't see any others that represented me. Single, no kids, in the corporate environment and African American.

I pondered about what I should call this blog and after careful thought and a very, very short list Not THE Angry Black Woman became the front runner.

How did I come by that title? Basically from a radio show, there was a discussion about black men dating outside their race and that one of the reasons why was because of the angry black woman.

HUH? Angry black woman...where she at?

I haven't seen her, except on movies, videos, commercials and television shows. She hasn't showed up in my world unless you're a delivery company (who shall remain nameless) who said they would be at my home between the hours of eight a.m. and one p.m. and you don't show up until seven p.m. on a Saturday night. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I COULD HAVE BEEN DOING INSTEAD OF WAITING ON YOU TO SHOW UP?! See that's when my angry persona comes out to play.

I don't walk around angry. I don't even like to be upset. I choose to live my life happy and fulfilled.

Sometimes I'm working on the happy part and sometimes I'm working on the fulfilled part but I don't walk around mad at the world, ready to cuss the next person I see out because they looked at me sideways.

I could blame it on my upbringing, raised by a single mother who worked really hard to get me and my sister out of the projects and into the suburban life all by herself. Yes that meant she spent more time at work than she did at home, that also meant that my older sister and I had to fend for ourselves a lot more than if we had a father and a stay at home mother. But I don't think about that when I think about my childhood, I think about those Fridays my mother would order us pizza and then we would all sit in the den and play UNO for hours and hours, laughing and teasing one another, and don't you dare forget to say UNO, when you have just one card left in your hand!

Yes, I work hard at keeping my mood light but doesn't everyone. I mean if everyone took the time to really consider their lives at this moment could you actually say Hey, I happy right now! Right at this very instant, I am truly happy?

You can.....well............ let's just say I'm all good.

And I plan to keep it that way or better. So no this is not the blog of an Angry Black Woman. This is just a blog of from a woman, whose view of life comes with the slant of her background, her culture and sex.
I hope you like what I say and if you don't, don't be afraid to tell me.