And I say this after spending the morning at the salon getting my hair braided, per the request of the husband...because as everyone on my Twitter feed learned this morning right before it all got started, I HATE GETTTING MY HAIR BRAIDED!
Mind you, the husband LOVES braids and specifically requested them for my appearance at the Elder Niece's nuptials which are next weekend. He made this request back in June when we were discussing a few wedding details with the Elder Niece, her sister (the MOH), and her Mom (his eldest sister and my sister-in-law). Mind you, I am not even in the bridal party, so what I look like really should not matter, but then when it was suggested that I might have to pose in a wedding photo or two, then the topic of what-will-she-do-with-her-hair came up (and mind you once more, this question was posed by the husband)...
And then he pulls out the emotional blackmail: "You know how much my mother loved you in braids...everybody loves you in braids" and then makes a sad weepy dog face for effect. And as you know, I loved my late mother-in-law and would have done just about anything for her, so now I have braids.
And did I mention that the big wedding weekend happens to coincide with the Busy Black Woman's big 10th wedding anniversary? So since the husband loves braids, and I've been a grumpy grump for the last eight and a half years, I got braids to make him happy. But please do not tell him that...I'm sticking with the explanation that since we are headed to Puerto Rico the following week, I got braids so that I will not have to think about my hair whilst enjoying a week in the tropics.
Because I love the husband, I will not be participating in a panel discussion about my college years, which would be a totally typical BBW activity for me on any other night of the year. Alas, it is scheduled for the night of our anniversary, so I thought twice and declined the invitation...but you can tell him it was because I needed to pack for our two trips.
Because I love my natural hair just like it is, I am annoyed that people want to charge me extra for styling it, as if the additional length is somehow a liability. Yes it is thick and will destroy styling tools without a second thought, but isn't that the point? But as much as I love this thick mess, I needed a break, so that is why I have braids.
Because this song has been in my head since I wrote the title to this post, here ya go:
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Fried Chicken Wednesday: Soap Operas
It is a dirty little secret that Busy Black Women watch soap operas (what else do we DVR now that Oprah has ended her show) and it is this week that we pay homage to one of our favorite character actresses, Debbi Morgan, who celebrated a birthday on September 20. On and off since the 80s, Morgan has portrayed Angie Baxter Hubbard, alongside Darnell Williams, who portrayed her soul mate, Jesse Hubbard on All My Children (AMC).
Of course you already know this because everybody knows about Angie and Jesse, the first black super-couple in daytime (and apparently the person who put together that fan page, must really love them). And of course, you know that as of this Friday, AMC will sign off for good, perhaps to be reincarnated online as a web serial. So Happy Birthday Debbi Morgan! As of Friday, you’re out of a job…?
Except that is not quite true. Although AMC will be going off the air, Morgan will be joining the cast of The Young and the Restless (Y&R) next month, another long-running soap on a rival network. And so, Happy Birthday Debbi Morgan! You still have a job…for now, since it is a pretty good bet that CBS will rinse its two remaining soaps down the drain before long.
The soap opera as we knew it back when we watched it with our grandmothers and babysitters is dead. It is okay because years ago we gave up trying to keep up with those inane soap storylines involving alien abductions, resurrections from the dead, and how many husbands Erica Kane has had. Quietly, but steadily, we have all moved on to the real-life drama provided by reality TV shows.
Of course you already know this because everybody knows about Angie and Jesse, the first black super-couple in daytime (and apparently the person who put together that fan page, must really love them). And of course, you know that as of this Friday, AMC will sign off for good, perhaps to be reincarnated online as a web serial. So Happy Birthday Debbi Morgan! As of Friday, you’re out of a job…?
Except that is not quite true. Although AMC will be going off the air, Morgan will be joining the cast of The Young and the Restless (Y&R) next month, another long-running soap on a rival network. And so, Happy Birthday Debbi Morgan! You still have a job…for now, since it is a pretty good bet that CBS will rinse its two remaining soaps down the drain before long.
The soap opera as we knew it back when we watched it with our grandmothers and babysitters is dead. It is okay because years ago we gave up trying to keep up with those inane soap storylines involving alien abductions, resurrections from the dead, and how many husbands Erica Kane has had. Quietly, but steadily, we have all moved on to the real-life drama provided by reality TV shows.
The Joy of Being an Anti-Parent
The Busy Black Woman has no children of her own, but she has younger cousins, nieces, nephews, play god-children, and the children of her friends to dote upon. And despite the fact that none of these little cherubs actually belong to me, I am particularly tickled and blessed to have them in my life.
Case in point: I was in a F.O.U.L. mood on Sunday--cussing and PMSing while driving with the single-minded intent to ratchet up my cussing and fussing once I reached my destination. The husband's attempts to reason with me proved futile as he sounded just like an adult from a old Peanuts cartoon.
We arrived at my parents' house, but no one was there, so I drew my guns to take aim at whomever came through the door first. Five minutes or so later, the first person through the door was my father, but sensing that it was in his best interest to keep walking, he hurried past me to take cover in the kitchen. Next in was my mother, but right behind her toddled in the Baby Niece who looked up at me, smiled, outstretched her arms and cried out, "YaYa!"
And with that, Hurricane BBW got downgraded from a category 4 to a drizzle and a gentle fall breeze.
Case in point: I was in a F.O.U.L. mood on Sunday--cussing and PMSing while driving with the single-minded intent to ratchet up my cussing and fussing once I reached my destination. The husband's attempts to reason with me proved futile as he sounded just like an adult from a old Peanuts cartoon.
We arrived at my parents' house, but no one was there, so I drew my guns to take aim at whomever came through the door first. Five minutes or so later, the first person through the door was my father, but sensing that it was in his best interest to keep walking, he hurried past me to take cover in the kitchen. Next in was my mother, but right behind her toddled in the Baby Niece who looked up at me, smiled, outstretched her arms and cried out, "YaYa!"
And with that, Hurricane BBW got downgraded from a category 4 to a drizzle and a gentle fall breeze.
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Best of Intentions
Disclaimer: This is going to be a rant. An angry rant. At times, an unfocused, angry, bitter rant. I know that breaks certain cardinal rules of blogging, and I know that it might cost me a few readers, but I have some things that I need to get off my chest. So hold on, because Hurricane BBW is a category 5 bitch of a storm.
So, just 16 days ago, I declared September to be my month. I was going to focus on me, make life improvements, and maybe try to clean my house a little. Well, so far NO good. And that is not because I gave up alcohol.
It is because I received some very unfortunate, but not totally unexpected news. I was not initially going to blog about it here, because my desire has been to keep the personal stuff light and airy since this is supposed to be a humor and lifestyle blog. Well f*** that.
So, just 16 days ago, I declared September to be my month. I was going to focus on me, make life improvements, and maybe try to clean my house a little. Well, so far NO good. And that is not because I gave up alcohol.
It is because I received some very unfortunate, but not totally unexpected news. I was not initially going to blog about it here, because my desire has been to keep the personal stuff light and airy since this is supposed to be a humor and lifestyle blog. Well f*** that.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Gratitude for Things Big and Small
I fell a bit behind on my Happy Black Woman reset, and today is hardly the day for me to catch up as I have been in bed sick...after getting a clean bill of health from the doctor just this morning! But seeing as how I am grateful that whatever this is probably will not kill me (it will just slow me down for a few days), here is a list of 10 other things I am grateful for in my life:
- The husband, who came home after a long day and did a load of laundry, baked a cake for someone, and will probably have to sleep on the coach tonight so that he won't catch whatever it is I have.
- Health insurance, for after listening to snippets from the GOP debate last night, there but by the grace of God go I...
- My friends, because these are the people who have chosen to be in my life, even after getting to really know me.
- Family, because they may not have a choice in being related to me, but they have a choice whether to care.
- Children
- Church folks who plan programs but fail to place limits on the amount of time given to each speaker...although I was beyond tired by hour 3, it was great to see everyone and to hear their reflections. Next time I'll remember to take a snack though.
- Caller ID
- Skills that will always enable me to earn a living, or at least be useful.
- Compassion for others.
- Forgiveness and grace
Monday, September 12, 2011
I Picked a Fine Time to Give Up Alcohol...
I am only joking, but for the past few days I've been wondering if I should have just given up crack instead (another very bad joke).
Seriously, though it is a little weird to be invited to parties and happy hours during the weekend of the big Morehouse vs. Howard Classic and not be able to enjoy a drink or two. At the same time, it was also pretty weird that the after-game tailgate consisted of a lot of us standing around in an unlit parking lot. Or that the "offical" after-party that the alumnae association had spent the better part of the summer planning had few, if any alumnae in attendance...where were you my sisters and brothers?
Since there was no one around to hear my explanation as to why I was only drinking club soda, I took a quick survey of the club, chatted with a few folks outside, switched out of the cute heels into my flipflops, walked back to my friend's hotel, got hit on by a couple of good looking guys on the elevator (apparently Mama still has a lil' sumthin' sumthin'), and then watched the rest of the Michigan vs. Notre Dame game. After receiving some disappointing reconnaissance from the field concerning some of the other post-game festivities, my companions and I went to Clyde's where I had a midnight lobster dinner with fries and three diet Cokes.
And while it would have been nice to have had a drink or two, I did not feel deprived. Of course, that is how I feel today...check me out later in a week or so to see if I haven't taken a nosedive off the side of this ricketey teetotaler wagon.
How dry I am...
Seriously, though it is a little weird to be invited to parties and happy hours during the weekend of the big Morehouse vs. Howard Classic and not be able to enjoy a drink or two. At the same time, it was also pretty weird that the after-game tailgate consisted of a lot of us standing around in an unlit parking lot. Or that the "offical" after-party that the alumnae association had spent the better part of the summer planning had few, if any alumnae in attendance...where were you my sisters and brothers?
Since there was no one around to hear my explanation as to why I was only drinking club soda, I took a quick survey of the club, chatted with a few folks outside, switched out of the cute heels into my flipflops, walked back to my friend's hotel, got hit on by a couple of good looking guys on the elevator (apparently Mama still has a lil' sumthin' sumthin'), and then watched the rest of the Michigan vs. Notre Dame game. After receiving some disappointing reconnaissance from the field concerning some of the other post-game festivities, my companions and I went to Clyde's where I had a midnight lobster dinner with fries and three diet Cokes.
And while it would have been nice to have had a drink or two, I did not feel deprived. Of course, that is how I feel today...check me out later in a week or so to see if I haven't taken a nosedive off the side of this ricketey teetotaler wagon.
How dry I am...
Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Busy Black Woman meets the Happy Black Woman
Last month I had the pleasure of meeting Rosetta Thurman, life coach and author of the Happy Black Woman blog at a Happy Hour she sponsored at the Dirty Martini bar in DC. I meant to write about that experience then, but life has a way of messing with my good intentions. However, sometimes things happen for a reason. Read on...
OK, so at the aforementioned event, I met several very interesting women: fellow bloggers, Spelman sisters, people I follow on Twitter, business women, and generally all very positive people. It was not at all like some of the typical DC networking events where there is a list to get in or where you get the feeling that even after you make it past the velvet rope, you are being judged for every single choice (like breathing a certain way). This was just very cool.
And I have a confession to make--I went to this event with no clear idea of what to expect. I saw the event posting and RSVP'd and just showed up.
OK, so at the aforementioned event, I met several very interesting women: fellow bloggers, Spelman sisters, people I follow on Twitter, business women, and generally all very positive people. It was not at all like some of the typical DC networking events where there is a list to get in or where you get the feeling that even after you make it past the velvet rope, you are being judged for every single choice (like breathing a certain way). This was just very cool.
And I have a confession to make--I went to this event with no clear idea of what to expect. I saw the event posting and RSVP'd and just showed up.
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