Is New Years Eve the New Valentine's Day?

The reason I ask is because of all the mayhem going on around here!

One of my friends wrote on their Facebook status today, "New Years stresses me out." One of my good friends sent me a bbm that said, "I'm not leaving the house." Another girlfriend of mine is sad because it's a holiday that reminds her that she is alone, like Valentine's Day. While quite a few others are beyond pumped about New Years! Sharing details about their cocktail dresses...locations, and fun-filled agenda for the evening!

[the chaos is vaguely familiar to Valentine's Day]

For me? New Years Eve has been consistently random every year for the past ten years. A couple of times I spent it with ex-boyfriends, other times at church with family, plenty of times with various friends, and in a couple cases doing absolutely nothing but sitting infront of a television wrapped in a blanket!

My first thought was to go out with a bang for Nye! By spending this evening out with my girlfriends, get super dolled up, drink lots and lots of liquor, wave my hands in the air like I just don't care, and then forget who I am the next afternoon. I made no mistake in saying 'afternoon' either.

HOLLA!

But now, I am not opposed to partaking in something a little more low-key. Partly, because Mama has to spend a small fortune on her car. And the idea of going to a more intimate house party with friends that I always have a good time with  is way more appealing, than freezing my tush off outside and spending all of my breakfast and lunch money for three weeks.

And no, I don't eat much anyway. But my normal serving of coffee, fruit, and whatever else is on sale at the grocery store still cost money!

The reason I am relating New Years Eve to Valentine's Day has to do with the fact that the last couple of Valentine's Days, I have received a couple of sympathy invitations from guy friends asking me, if I would like for them to take me out. Two years ago on Valentine's Day, my guy friend called me up, and said "Tanya, I'm taking you out! Get dressed, Woman!" And I said, "okay," in my lonely sad damsel in distress voice. Threw my party dress on and had a blast with him at dinner and the club with friends. Last Valentine's Day, I was sick with the flu and pathetic looking but still forced out the house for dinner by a guy friend. Still had a good time too, surprisingly.

And now? I feel like history is repeating itself with New Years Eve. I received three sympathy invitations this week. But there is no need for this because this is a fun holiday! And nobody has any reason to feel sick or sad. This be the reason right here, I sought out friends and a party to go to on Nye! We can't make ourselves a sad victim or a damsel.

What we should be worried about includes: Where we are going? With whom? Who's the designated driver? And if there isn't one. Who's couch, bed, or closet are you passing out in? That's it! Who cares about the dress? All you're going to do is spill cranberry vodka all over it, like I will on mine.

This is not a holiday for being alone and receiving sympathy invitations. It is a holiday for celebrating the new year through coonish behavior, busting a move on the dance floor, and then falling on your ass and ruining the dress that you purchased from Bloomingdales the prior week.

[cough cough]

There is one wish that I always have every New Years though. It is to celebrate New Years Eve with all of my favorite people under one roof. I cannot think of anything more exciting than partying with all of my favorites for one evening of debauchery! I swear that it would be like the best birthday party x 100!

I am an optimist too.

I will make this happen one of these years!

Ciroc Smooth Talk with Diddy

Has anyone really listened to what this Damn Diddy says in any of these Ciroc commercials?

I am no Diddy fan but these commercials are hilarious! His PR people were clever in making him appear to be a funny human being because in real life, not only is he not funny but you can tell he has no sense of humor. The type of 'no sense of humor' that is partly due to the fact that he's not smart enough to get the joke.

I love how in one of these clips he says, "Ladies, open-toe shoes: make sure they fit. If your feet are hanging over the front....it means your feet are too big. And it scares me."

[laughing while shaking my head in shame]

Asshole.

I must defend the strong ladies all over the world who are guilty of wearing heels that do not fit their feet!

First of all, why do 'HER' feet have to be too big for her shoes? Why can't these shoes be too small for her feet? If she wears a size 6 in shoes, but was determined to wear those hot pink Betsy Johnson heels in size 5.5. She doesn't exactly have gigantic hobbit feet, now does she?? And who is to say, she didn't stuff her feet into those 5.5 heels because they were the only ones left in her size and they were 60% off at Saks? One must learn to understand the importance of bargain shopping, and whether or not your big toe hanging slightly out of the peep toe is worth the purchase of the heel.

In my opinion, any woman who is willing to endure pain for a pair of beautiful shoes that do not fit very well is a determined woman.

So back the fuck off, Diddy!

The second item to point out, Diddy looks like a well-groomed chimpanzee with a S-Curl and a visible overbite! Plus, he is always making that 'ah duh droppey face' expression. Who the hell is he to make fun of anyone?? Yes, he is worth a lot of money! But he is still ugly, and money can't make fix you if you're ugly. I despise ugly people who make fun of others. Where do they get the nerve? I really do believe that this is what happens to 3s (like Diddy) who walk around with 10s (like J.Lo) on their arms. They become delusional about who they are because of whom they associated themselves with over time.

The third matter to address, if Diddy is insinuating that a woman with big feet is a she-man, then he is just wrong! Especially, when there has been numerous rumors floating around for years that Diddy likes to hit up gay clubs and mess with boys. I'm pretty sure these boys have large feet too. He probably secretly likes to suck on men's big toes. He looks like a freak hoe!

My last comment on this shoe matter, since when did 'real' men pay attention to the shoes that women wear? That strikes me as a bit odd when I hear men crack on the way women dress. I don't know a lot of straight men who do this. But if men are making fun of a woman, it is usually because she looks certifiably crazy. I.e. - she looks pyschotic in the face or she is wearing something inappropriate for her large body frame. It has nothing to do with what she is wearing on her feet or how she is wearing them. Other than those possible scenarios, since when did men stare so intently at women's feet that they noticed her big toe hanging out of her shoe? An even more puzzling question than this one, since when did it stop a man from pursuing a woman?

Somebody tell me!

Who has ever heard a man say to his guy friends, "Oh, I'm not messing with Crystal. Did you see how her toes hung out of those stilettos? Oh, hell naw! I'm not taking those feet home with me tonight, nope."

Not me! From a straight man anyway.

That is all I have to say!

Merry Christmas to All Over the World!

For those of you who do not celebrate Christmas, you are missing out! I would like to share with you the best parts about Christmas every year!

1) Decorating the Christmas tree with ornaments, but not popcorn because that's just tacky.
2) Baking cookies, peach cobbler, and red velvet cupcakes and then eating it all, when it's suppose to be for Santa!
3) Playing Christmas music without feeling like a cornball for playing it. Even though you know deep down inside that you are a cornball anyway.
4) Spending time with your family, or in my case: arguing and cracking jokes on each other because it has been 3 to 6 months since the last time, you got to crack on your family for their coonery.
5) Watching your family members' faces light up when they open your gifts, and then being pleasantly surprised when they actually have a gift for you, because you did not expect one.

Best feeling in the world!

Happy Holidays!!!!


Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Why Megabus is a Mega-Not Ever Again

Maybe, it's me? But I always seem to run into trouble when traveling on public transportation. On the train, subway...and now bus, the Megabus.

[sighs]

Megabus and Bolt Bus are probably the most attractive buses to travel coach on because of their bright painted illustrations, cheap bus fares, and free wi-fi. The airfare ranges from $1 to $21. This be the reason right here, I hopped my skinny behind on one of them today. I'm attracted to bright colors, shiny objects, and anything that states that it is a dollar.

I'm one of the easiest consumers to target. There isn't a whole lot you have to do to convince me. I'm every salesperson's dream customer. All they have to do is tell me that my $200 jeans are excellent quality, won't shrink, and my booty looks extra fly and big in them, and I buy those suckers in bulk! I hate salespeople.

Back on subject!

I have yet to encounter a soul who has actually bought a ticket on any of these buses for a dollar. And to be honest, it makes me wonder how many tickets they sell for a $1. Is it only one per bus? You can't legally paint ads all over your bus about selling $1 tickets unless you do. So, maybe they give one or two tickets away on every bus for that price?

If anyone has gotten on one of these buses for a $1 please let me know and I will stop talking trash.

Til then...

I will start off with the vent cover that was falling down from the side into the aisle. It did strike me as a little odd. But listen, there were two open seats under it calling my name, so I plopped myself down in that window seat and put my pocketbook and coat in the other seat. I closed my eyes immediately and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Three seconds later.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" I opened my eyes and look up. Ugh! It was the same young guy I saw outside in line who tried to make eye contact. Young guys are so stupid though. If I didn't bother to acknowledge your eye contact, it means that I don't care to talk or sit next to you either. He continued to point to my things on the seat. I scanned the second level of the bus to see how many other seats were available, I counted five. Two that I knew for a fact didn't have any bags on them, unlike my seat.

"Sure," I say with absolutely no enthusiasm in my voice and an eye roll, he did not miss.

I knew how the rest of this bus ride would be the minute he sat down next to me, and I was deeply saddened.

Then I started to grow really angry too.

During my college years in Philadelphia, I came across the same situation every train ride home to Maryland. Random dudes who want to sit down next to you in a cart filled with open seats. Stare at you the whole time like they had no proper home training, make their presence known through loud and obnoxious behavior, and then harass you for your phone number.

This 'boo boo the fool' was the worst of them all though.

He had two duffle bags and bunch of frames that he put at the bottom of his feet. The coat he was wearing was large enough to hide a couple bombs, a large Mexican family, and me. But I was cool. I had a sharp metal nail filer and  a pair of tweezers in my pocketbook that could draw blood. Just in case, he wanted to kidnap me in that huge thing.

I felt like saying to him, "So, you want to sit next to me 'AND' invade my personal space with your mounds of shit? Oh. Now, I really can't stand you."

To top off invading my personal space, he smelled like fried rice and kept moving around in his seat. Just like a six year old. Then he started talking indirectly to me about what he needed to do when he got into New York, and I say 'indirectly' because he wasn't looking at me. Although it was clear that he wanted me to know all of his plans because of the level he raised his voice to, or maybe he's just one of  those (annoying) people that likes to hear themselves talk aloud.

I have no idea?

When he pulled out his iPod, shit didn't just hit the fan. It hit the moon!

He started off by rapping quietly. So, I turned my iPod on to block his non-rhyming ass out. Five minutes later, I noticed extremely cold air emerging from the hanging vent cover directly on me! After cursing myself for sitting in a seat with a hanging vent, I started to hear this guy over the music in my iPod. I turned it down for a moment and this fool was rapping some Juelz Santana song. AND, LOUD. When he realized that I was looking at him, he started moving his arms around like he was dancing! So, I say to him, "Can you be quiet, please? You're a little loud." Then he says, "Oh, I'm loud?! Sorry. This my joint! Juelz Santanaaaaa!"

"Uh, huh. Now, shut the fuck up! Please," is what I was thinking in my mind but never said.

He continued to rap louder than ever for about fifteen more minutes, while watching me text on my phone. Made a comment about my phone being orange...and that was it! There was just too much dialogue going on here. I asked him to please let me out of the seat. "Oh, you need to get up?"

I shook my head and thought, "Yes, Dum Dum! Why else would I be standing here asking you to move?" Of course, it took him four minutes too long to move himself, his ten pound coat, and his mounds of shit out of my pathway too.

I went to the first level of the bus, found a nice seat with no occupants, and thanked God for leaving me an open space on that bus before history repeated itself.

The moral of the story: Retta needs to stay off of Megabus and Amtrak. Period!

Type A Personality: Egotist

This is what I learned today.

The hard way.

Type A Personalities are some of the craziest individuals on this earth. If you suspect anyone you are growing close to of having a Type A Personality, do yourself a favor and run as fast as you can the other way.

FAST!

I am starting to believe that fast is an acronym and what it really means is:

F - uck
A - ssholes
S - hit
T - ime to go!

I found a bit of information on Type A Personalities, so everyone can identify the signs and run fast before it is too late.

When individuals are faced with feelings of frustration or insecurity, they may become depressed. Or they may transform themselves into a Type A Personality. This transition into a Type A Personality is a conscientious effort to deal with their insecurities rather than ignore them. The worse case, they are both depressed and have a Type A personality. They are known for being perfectionist and control freaks who need to maintain a level of perfection that does not exist. They need timelines and schedules to maintain order. They possess low self-esteem that makes them over strive and compete with others. Or even worse, they tend to overcompensate in a way that forces them to swing to polar opposites to cope. They often alienate themselves when confronted with conflict with others. They may deny emotion or not know they have any emotion at all. They tend to have high stress levels. They can engage in episodes in which they launch an attack on themselves or others because of insecurities or lack of control. They can appear rigid or tense, uncomfortable, or expressionless. They tend to be bat-shit crazy because of something traumatic from childhood. They are most comfortable when surrounded by chaos and drama. And last, they must receive attention, regardless of it being positive or negative for their own selfish needs.

[Okay, everything up to the bat-shit crazy part is true. But I do know two Type As that possess the additional traits I mentioned.]

Unfortunately, I had the pleasure of dealing directly with one for seventeen years and the other for six months. I wish it was zero months and years, but sometimes in life there's just no way of avoiding these people. I will take full responsibility in my engagement with one of them though. I should have never involved myself with anyone with a dark cloud above them and a laundry list of problems. And, I should not have assumed anything about them to be a fact, unless I asked.

When I spoke to a friend yesterday about a Type A that he dated for several months. What I realized from our conversation; although these Type As are impossible human beings, they will be fine. As long as one Type A can find another Type A to build a union filled with calendars and Zoloft pills, it is possible for them to coexist peacefully.

There has to be someone for everyone in this world. I firmly believe this.

My advice to you, especially if you are laid-back, easy going, and a happy person. Do yourself a favor and stay away from these people! They will do you no good, and you will never understand them. And mainly, because they are crazy. Also keep in mind, you are not a doctor and you didn't attend medical school to understand them (my sister told me this last line and she's right).

So!

Remember, say no to Type A Personalities! If you are a Type A Personality, God bless you!

Unisexual

A man asked my girlfriend yesterday if her white ceramic watch was unisexual.

Um, huh?

This word is a quota!

I could have sworn that anything pertaining to the word 'sexual' had to do with a close intimate proximity to someone. Not neccesarily sex, but more like exuding chemistry.

So, why would this fool think asking somebody if their watch was unisexual would make any logical sense?

In the case that it was a real word, wouldn't it be like asking someone if there watch will provoke sexual feelings from both men and women?

A watch.

Not a mini-dress, bikini, muscle shirt, or a speedo.

I repeat, a watch.

If his intention was to make unisexual a word. It is an epic fail in my book.

Now, this is a man we are talking about here. No offense to men. But he probably wanted to say something clever and witty to my friend because she is attractive!

Unfortunately for him, she was not impressed because it was neither clever or witty.

And to be frank, most women aren't keen on men making up fake words and throwing them in the air, like you just don't care!

Her 'incident' made me think of one of mine with a comedian that I went on one date with in Philly. He told me that he had seven kids and was fertulous! So, I better be ready for him. I nearly choked to death on my food when he said that to me!

It was like the date from hell x 9!

To this day, I wonder if he meant to say fortuitous instead of fertulous? But I decided during dinner that I was not sticking around long to find out the answer.

At one point, I considered a move to Texas. Then I learned that I would make a whooping $3.85 a day teaching and heard the crazy stories my girlfriend tells me about the men there. I decided Texas is out!

Sorry girl, you know I love you. But this whole unisexual thing did it for me!

On an ending note: ladies stay away from slick talkers! They are no good.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Say What Again?

I decided today there is nothing more entertaining than being blown away by the things children say!

Today a second grader showed me a 'book' she created. It was composed of ripped out coloring sheets with her name written in crayon on the top of each sheet. I said to her, "Tabitha, your book is so so beautiful! I love all of the colors that you used on each sheet too. You will be a good author one day! What's the name of your book?

Tabitha smiles at me, then replies, "The Tabitha Vagina."

Um.

[you just don't understand what this did to me]

I bent down closer to her, and asked her to repeat it. I have a hard time hearing when there is a lot of noise in a room due to my ADD. I just heard her incorrectly. I asked again, "What's the name of it?" Again, she says, "The Tabitha Vagina." I asked her one more time and she said it again! Then gave me a look like, damn girl. I guess you're too immature to handle this. Last time I ever tell you anything!

I am still sitting here blown.

Then a couple days ago, two fifth graders got into a verbal altercation. All I heard was, "Oh, yeah? Well, that's why you look like, Yo Gabba Gabba!" The little girl yelled, "whatever!" Then bursted into tears shortly after walking away.

I'm sorry but I laughed. Who calls people, Yo Gabba Gabba? It was too funny, not to laugh. I turned to the wall to laugh for a good 25 seconds after consoling her and reprimanding him.

I had no idea who this Yo Gabba Gabba person was at all? But I could tell by his name, he was visually outrageous.

Later that day I searched the web and found this:

Guess which one is Yo Gabba Gabba? If you guessed the crazy looking human with the bifocals, orange cat suit and furry grandma hat on, then you guessed correctly.

I can completely understand why she cried now. You could have called me any of those funny-looking creatures behind him, and I would  not have blinked an eye. They aren't human and nothing about them resembles me. But call me this black man who looks like he belongs in a psychiatric ward, and I will start crying too.

I look forward to seeing these kids everyday. I am constantly learning something new and crazy from them.

Hey Barbie, Can You Do This?

"Of course not! You don't wear lace front wigs, like I do. Girl!"

If you're wondering if the doll above is really being sold. Yes is the answer, you weren't ready to hear.

My sister bought this exact one for her friend's daughter and gave it to the poor child at her birthday party yesterday. Smh! She is a quota for buying this too.

And, you don't have to say it! I'll do it for you. This doll is pretty crazy and amazing all at the same time. 

I know.

This bald headed beauty is part of a set of five called Liv Dolls. These dolls have a proportionate size body for a doll, glass-like eyes, can pose in different positions, stand on their own, and of course...

Wear lace front wigs!

I literally gasped for air when my sister pulled this doll out of her shopping bag on Sunday.

I was not ready. I mean, when I was a child. I was subjected to stale ass Barbie with her -4 size waist, ballerina arched feet, cheap hooker clothes, and expressionless 'Stepford Wife' face. 

Oh, how times have changed.  

Each Liv doll comes with two wigs of different styles. But get this, you can also buy additional accessories (two lace front wigs and more clothing) in the accessory package they sell separately. Oh, and the lace front wigs come in regular styles and colors (blond, brown, black), and funky colors and styles like purple too.

[excuse me, while I laugh for a moment]

The Liv doll above is Alexis, and although she looks like a replica of Matel's Beyonce Barbie. She is much more three dimensional, just like the other Liv Dolls. Alexis is into fashion and loves to help her other girlfriends look their best. She has a natural page boy haircut that is actually pretty cute, and she loves changing up her 'hairstyles' also known as wigs throughout the week. 

[giving you the side eye]

She comes with the wig she is holding up in the air and another dark colored one that is short and curly. I also peeped the brown bag that she came with in the box. 

Um...why does it resemble a Fendi Spy bag?

I don't know how to feel about this doll. I almost want to say that it is a little too real. And, I'm not sure that selling a doll with interchangeable wigs is a positive message to send out to young girls. Don't pretend like you can't see the coonery in selling a doll that wears wigs, because I know you do. But I won't even go there. We already know it's wrong. I know me, and I would never buy this doll for my daughter. And only, because I believe dolls like these perpetuate ideas of what you are suppose to look like and do. I would rather buy my daughter a Cabbage Patch Doll, tell her to name it, and then allow her to create an identity of her own for her doll.

But at the same time, I do like the fact that they all have page boy haircuts because that is a first for a doll. I also like that they aren't 'Stepford Wife' dolls like Barbie. From the descriptions I found on them, they possess distinctive personalities. They describe the Liv Doll Katie as a tomboy who likes to skateboard and ride Bmx bikes. The Liv Doll Sophie is a hairstylist who is into fashion just like Alexis. The Liv Doll Hayden loves animals and works at an animal shelter, while the Liv Doll Daniela is an aspiring superstar who plays the drums and guitar in a band.

They sound just like characters out of the book series, The Babysitters Club Books. I read them in the fourth and fifth grade and appreciated the difference in each of their personalities.

I don't know?

Maybe, I am being too judgemental. It is just a doll. But aren't dolls like these, just the beginning of little girls formulating ideas of what they should look like in their head?

Just saying.

Quota!

Many of you have heard me say this word on many an a occasion. You probably even asked me after hollering the word out of nowhere, "Retta, what in the hell is quota suppose to mean?" 

Let me explain. But first, understand that me hollering the word wasn't out of nowhere. It is simply a reaction to the foolishness that I was subjected to moments before saying it.

We all know that the generic meaning of quota has to do with apportionment and allotment, yeah.

But do you know the real meaning? The raw 'street' version of it?

Allow me to break it down to you!

Quota - (noun) 1. to reach the maximum allowable amount of buffoonery. 2. to exceed coon-like behavior. 3. to strive above and beyond the normal level of shenanigans. 4. to take buffoonery and coonery to an unheard of level of dramatics.

Make sense now?

So, if I am forced by my sister to follow a midget into the elevator to get a picture of him in his leprechaun suit in Vegas. [this situation is a quota, a major one]

When this midget gives my friend the death stare in the elevator because she asks him if he just got off work. [the midget is not on quota, my friend is on quota]

If the midget decided to attack my friend for asking a stupid question. [the midget is on quota for his actions, but we were the quota for following him into the elevator.] 

One more example.

If a third grader tells me that his little brother demanded that he choke him to death last night before bedtime, and his response is, "No...I hate you, but I don't hate you that much." [the third grader is on quota, but his little brother is a quota for saying something more outlandish than his older brother]

Note: the difference between 'Person A' being a quota versus 'Person B' being on quota in both stories. Being a quota is far worse than being on quota. When you are 'on' quota, you only display coon-like behavior. However, if you 'are' a quota. You are the coon-like behavior. 

So, as you can see from these descriptions. Labeling something or someone as a quota is just an easy quick way to identify buffoonery in a kind way.

This concludes my lesson for the day. 

Please do you part as a law-abiding citizen in avoiding all quotas in the future.

Thank You!

Oh, That Feeling!

Did you ever get that feeling that you're going to do something big one day? I mean really big?

This feeling existed to me ever since I was 11 years old.

I decided as a child that this feeling was something, I was suppose to wait for to happen. Kind of like a snow storm, you know will happen eventually because of the signs indicated by the climate.

As I approached my sophomore year of college. I decided that I was being egotistical all this time because I had a family that pumped my head up with gas, not air. I told myself, 'well, nothing that great really happened to me in high school to think anything big would happen. Coming here to art school doesn't feel like a big deal either, especially since I hate this fucking place. Probably just dreaming big because I was taught to do it.'

What I realize now is that it was never about me waiting for something big to happen to me. It is more about waiting for me to grow a pair of balls to make 'it' happen.

It meaning very specific dreams of mine that I put in the back of my mind because I felt they were unsafe, unattainable, and unrealistic to achieve.

Well, this feeling is back once again. Only it's waiting on me this time, not the other way around.

I know what I have to do now, but I am scared as hell. I hate being outside of my comfort zone. Plus, I have seen too much at a young age, not to be afraid of failing.

On the positive side: I do feel empowered about my current decisions, because I am ultimately the one who is in control of shaping my future as I see fit.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The Cooneryville in the Numbers Game

I just have one question!

Why is every single black face on my Facebook profile playing that stupid numbers game? Along with maybe one or two of my white friends. But as far as I'm concerned they don't count.

I mean why? Seriously. It makes no sense at all and it's filled with tons of coonery! And why can't we say these questions to each other in private? Why do we have to post it on our damn wall for everybody to see?

I am a person who is filled with questions, and you best believe that when I'm ready to ask you one of them. It won't be in your inbox...it might be in a text or email, and your lucky if it's not your face. I know that I can be a bit confrontational.

I'm guess it's some sort of cultural thing, where we feel at ease saying anything out of our mouths? Maybe, because we were brought up to be these strong-minded individuals who had to learn how to deal with adversity at a young age...I get it!

But don't we go too far sometimes?

Especially, when we air out our dirty laundry through a damn numbers game 'trying' to keep it real. Everybody already knows we know how to keep it real! If you look at your Facebook posts, compared to others....they are probably 70% more outspoken than most on Facebook.

In my opinion, that speaks volumes!

Maybe, it's not even all about keeping it real. It sounds more about our egos. Which in turn makes me wonder about our self-esteem. We are asking each other all these questions, like we need to hear something good about ourselves. And from specific people too, like these people's damn opinions define us.

I know that I am guilty as well. I'll be the first one on Facebook blasting someone, because of some coon-like behavior or funny story! I am just as bad, I know. But I'll be damned if I ask you what you think of me, like you're the Dalai Lama!

Friends' opinions do not define us, we define us.

Rambling in a Run-on

"Im sorry that you fell in love with the wrong person because I don't love you. Im sorry to tell you this, it's that everything happened too quickly and you felt for me but I didn't fall for you. I wish you would forgive me because Im in pain, but I never meant to hurt you it was all a game. I tried telling you but you wouldn't listen, I tried to like you but then he arrived in my life and he changed everything, I know it's too late to apologize but things happen and I couldn't take a step back, he is and will be the love of my life. Im sorry but Im moving along, Im sorry if I hurt you, but in that time I was heartbroken he had broken my heart once again, and then you were there the one who told me you could lean on me, the one who took care of me when I was hurt, the one that catches every tear I drop, the one I wish will forgive me because I know I did wrong, and I know your love was strong, but when it's not meant to be there's nothing we can do because we were blinded from the start, so if you ever love someone never change them for a person you kinda like or kinda feel something for them because sooner or later you will regret it and I know because I have gone through it because now that person that I loved doesn't love me backand doesn't even talk to me because I played him real bad."

When I was browsing through poems this morning looking for someone to express how I feel right now. I found this very intimate letter. I know it's a complete run-on sentence, but I got so caught up in feeling sorry too; I didn't even notice the grammatical errors until now.

After reading this letter, I'm sorry anyone could be this sorry.

Regret is worse than a bitch, but as my sis would say, "eat up!" Or in other words, deal with it.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Did Morris Rosenfeld Hold My Mind Hostage?

I lift mine eyes against the sky,

The clouds are weeping,

so am I.

I lift mine eyes again on high,

The sun is smiling,

so am I.

Why do I smile?

Why do I weep?

I do not know

it lies too deep.

I hear the winds of autumn sigh,

They break my heart,

they make me cry.

I hear the birds of lovely spring,

My hopes revive,

I help them sing.

Why do I sing?

Why do I cry?

It lies so deep,

I know not why.

Every now and then, I come across poems like these. I always wonder what the poet went through to express exactly how I feel. Could it have been the same exact experience? Or is it just our minds verbalizing words in the same pattern? With not a fucking clue to the real meaning of it.

Kind of how we pretend to understand and feel what people say to us, but never do. Or maybe we understand a little?

It's hard to tell when words are open to interpretation.

The Best Female Rapper is _________.

Not Lil' Kim or Nicki Minaj in my opinion!

But since that's all anyone seems to be talking about this weekend...let's talk about it!
While, I believe both Kim and Nicki to both be unique and talented. I cannot say they are even close to the best of the best!

What about MC Lyte or Queen Latifah? Lauryn Hill? Foxy Brown...and Eve? Did we forget about them?

They are some pretty talented female rappers if you ask me!

But what sets them apart from Lil' Kim and Nicki Minaj?

SEX!

A lot of sex. And more importantly, the type of sex that makes people pay attention.

Sex sells!

Someone said that Nicki Minaj is way more talented. They said Lil' Kim isn't that talented. She is just raunchy and uses being a female to her advantage when rhyming. She apparently doesn't write her own rhymes either.

Um, okay.

But how is Nicki Minaj any different from Lil' Kim again? Doesn't she do the same exact thing? Oh, and Nicki doesn't write her own rhymes either. So?

Last I checked, MC Lyte and Queen Latifah wrote their own rhymes. So, why are we arguing over who is the best female rapper between those two?

Don't real rappers write their own rhymes?

I'm confused.

What I really don't understand is why we always have to tear each other down? And when I say 'we,'
I mean we as black people and women. We still face a good amount of adversity in this day in age. We don't need to add something as silly as this to the list.

Yes, I get that Lil' Kim is offended that Nicki Minaj bit her style. But isn't mimicking someone the highest form of flattery? Why take it so personally? Why not embrace someone who obviously looks up to you? Instead of breaking them down. She's younger than her, and probably still trying to figure out who she 'is' and wants to be one day.

What I will say about the whole fight is that if I were Nicki Minaj. I would keep quiet and not get caught up in the drama that is Lil' Kim.

An indication that somebody might be crazier than you: they get more plastic surgery than Michael Jackson. They serve time in jail for someone else. They promise to get you jumped when they whistle in any of the five boroughs of New York. They tell you that they will show up in your hood by themself to get buck with you.

I would run just like she told you to do. Yup! There is nothing wrong with running away from crazy people. Especially, when you know you can't fight and you want to stay alive.

I support runners all the way.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Closed Door

"When u close a door to ANY type of hurtful relationships make sure u lock it." - Rev Run

Not only did I lock that door he speaks of, but I threw away the key too.

This is why I won't respond to anymore questions and concerns.

Although, I do appreciate that you all care. I will not waste anymore of my time or energy rehashing with you on a relationship that I realize now was a huge sham.

No point. It wasn't real anyway.

Instead I will refocus my energy on my relationships that are genuine and filled with love, honesty, and trust.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

For Colored Girls Who Committ Suicide When the Rainbow is Not Enough

WOW!

Is all I can say about that movie. I have a migraine from holding in my cry, not to interrupt other movie goers.

It was passionate, raw, and real.

Kimberly Ellise, Thandie Newton, Phylicia Rashad , and Whoppi Goldberg were my favorite characters in the movie. If they don't get nominated for an award...then the hell with the Academy members because they all deserve one! Period.

I don't want to give the movie away, but it was good.

Tyler Perry did make the men in the movies look like monsters, this is true. But truth be told, there are real monsters out there...that come in many shapes and forms that include men and women too.

The women were all beautiful and damaged, and I loved them with all their imperfections. These imperfections made them beautiful and strong. I never thought it possible to hate and love a character at the same time, but Tyler Perry made me feel that way.

In the end they spoke about the word, 'sorry.' How that word attached to more words, affected them in a way that has shaped their very being.

My final thought after seeing the movie?

Is Tyler Perry gay? Or just a woman trapped in a man's body? How can this man be so accurate in depicting the feelings of women in such an authentic way? Unless you are a woman.

We're not the easiest creatures to understand or read. Or even love. What part of his male being allows him to sympathize with us the way he does? And while I know most men will watch the film, and scold him for depicting them like devils, Perry went ahead and produced this film anyway.

At the end of the day, he could probably care less about how he depicts black folks in his movies. Especially, when him and his wallet sleep just fine at night.

Spent

This means feeling conked-out, completely gone, dried up, used up, drained, and done.

Every time I think about lost time for simple activities in my life, or not having time to spend with friends and family. I just want to cry. It is so frustrating.

I feel sensitive, misunderstood, under appreciated, overwhelmed, and sad.

I have been going to bed every night between 9 and 10:30 pm without accomplishing anything, just to wake up at 5:30 am, and do the same thing all over again.

And now? I can't even sleep-in on my weekends anymore because I wake up too damn early every morning. FML! Serious.

I'm not the only one who is tired and sad though.

Last night someone close to me broke down and cried. They felt the exact same way. They were upset because they were told, "you aren't being here for me...I'm all alone." They were hurt and sad because they knew from the bottom of their heart, they were doing everything they could for this person....given the distance and current circumstances. They expressed how cold it was to hear them say something like that...when they felt this person didn't always do everything on their part to be there for them too. They expressed they knew they were crying because they are just emotionally drained because of other issues, and hearing someone you thought you were being good to say that you weren't at all, was hurtful.

There wasn't a moment that I couldn't relate, understand, or sympathize with them. I felt the exact same way. A different story, similar issues and feelings.

What upset me the most about their situation....trying to comfort a person I love when they are hurt and tired. Then realizing there is nothing, 'I' can do to remedy their situation and make them feel better.

That hurts the most.

I compare their story to mine, and see the similarities: feeling inadequate. Tired. Under appreciated. Stressed. Emotionally drained. Working to fix a situation that you ultimately have no control over. Then feeling helpless and sad in the end because nobody is happy.

I would like to think of myself as a person who is good at expressing themselves and their feelings. I am afraid that I am beginning to lose this now. I guess. I don't see the point? If no one is listening or being respectful of how you feel. Why keep trying?

Oh, yeah. Because it's me. And I don't know, how not to try....or care.

There isn't a more appropriate word for this than feeling spent.

Channeling Run DMC

Does anyone watch Run's House on Mtv anymore?

For those of you who haven't heard of it. It 'was' a pretty popular reality television show about two years ago. It followed the life of Run Dmc, his wife and kids, and his brother Russell Simmons.

Not sure why the show irked me, but it did. The youngest son Iggy or Diggy was always crying about something; displaying tell-tale signs of a spoiled brat. I believe he was 10 years old at the time. He was the most annoying of the bunch.

Then there was the oldest son who's name I can't remember. When he talked it sounded like, he had marbles in his mouth. He was the one trying to pursue a rap career. Sad part is that the youngest son Diggy was the one who landed the rap contract. Apparently, he raps pretty well for a young kid.

Then there were Run's daughters, Angela and Vanessa. They were actually my favorites in the show. Those two were always all over the damn place though, and grabbed most of the attention on the show. So, it was no surprise that they landed their own reality show. Only, nobody watched. Every episode they sat on their couch screaming at each other over nothing of real substance.

The mother's story line in the show was based upon her desire to have a baby. She did become pregnant, but sadly lost the baby at birth. Then adopted a baby girl towards the last season of Run's House, I think.

And then there was Run! He really killed me the most. He made a lot of animal sounds when he got upset or excited. It was just weird. Shortly after, he had the nerve to yell at his kids about acting responsibly and right! He was constantly a walking contradiction. But, whatever.

The icing on the cake for me: Run's reflection time. Every morning he would sit in his bath tub with his blackberry. Typing the trials and tribulations from the previous day, haha! I mean. Who does something like that?

Oh, wait.

Me!

[Lowers head in shame]

Here I am, talking mess. But not just anywhere! In the damn sauna on my blackberry reflecting in my blog, while an older lady is sitting entirely too close to me (when there is plenty of space in this sauna) and breathing real hard.

I just can't today!

Funny how we point out other's idocrasies when we don't realize...we do the same thing!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The Approachable Type

I have debated this topic with family members, boyfriends, friends, and strangers. The conversations revolved around the color of the men I dated in the past.

The answer? Everything!

White. Black. Asian. Hispanic. Jewish. African. Arabic.

There are few races of men I haven't forced to take me on a date. Indian, definitely not. I was never in a position to socialize or meet an Indian man around town. With that said, let's just say I am a very cultured person instead of a hoe.

Thank you.

In my opinion, when it comes down to dating. It is all about your body language, the location, and how you position yourself in the setting that makes you approachable to a variety of men. I believe these factors make it easy to meet and date black and non-black men. And, this is where my friends and I disagree. They believe non-black men will pursue you because of how you look (not because of the things I listed above). What is the look you might wonder? Light-skin and petite is their answer.

But maybe it's me, but aren't descriptions like that only relative to a person's opinion? What one person may think is light-skin and petite, can differ completely from another person. And who is to say that the non-black person was thinking in their mind when they approached me, "Well, there goes a light-skin petite girl. Gee, golly! Just my type." I mean, serious.

I know white men who date black women with no specific preference in mind. I know some that prefer black women with dark skin, long hair, and ethnic features. I call it the 'Naomi Campbell' syndrome. Some prefer light-skin black women as well, but if that is the case. They usually tend to like exotic Asian, Hispanic, and Indian women as well.

However, I would like to think that it is less about a look, and more about a type. I am a social person. I am educated. I can keep up in a conversation with strong personalities. I make eye contact with people. I am interested in learning about other people, places, and things. I am open to many ideas. I do not hold prejudices against anyone. I can make racist statements at times, yes. Not ever with the intention of being malicious though.

Wouldn't most of these tidbits qualify me for being approachable? Rather than just possessing a look?

I think, yes!

I know a couple of approachable friends that people like, regardless of race. My childhood friend who lives in New York is approachable. She smiles a lot. That makes people instantly feel comfortable. My sister is approachable. She has a friendly demeanor that strangers can see instantly. I know a particular guy who is approachable. He will engage any soul that is listening in conversation, he has the gift of gab.

At the end of the day, engaging those you would normally not; has nothing to do with a look. Because if you are attractive, but lack substance there is nothing a look can do. It has everything to with the qualities you possess...or in other cases, money.

Just keeping it real.

Kanye and Bush

I'm not sure if any of you know where I am going with this one, but I just have to say it! Even if it is the end of our friendship.

Kanye West and George Bush are both idiots with a lot in common!

I wonder if Bush's peers look at him, the same way we look at Kanye West? Now, I won't assume you all think of Kanye West as your peer. But don't act, like you don't know what I mean!

Kanye West can best be describes as an embarrassment to the following groups: African Americans, Intellectuals, Democrats, musicians, artists, mothers, ex-girlfriends, and pop culture society.

While George Bush can best be described as an embarrassment to the following groups: Americans (all nationalities), Intellectuals, Republicans, his daughters/nieces, Harvard, and many people in Texas who remain silent.

Everyone thinks that Kanye West is so inspirational. He knows how to make connections to many people in this nation. He is not the nicest or most articulate person, but for some reason people still show compassion for him. When he stole Taylor Swifts thunder at the MTV Music Awards and received the 'Chris Brown' treatment for months, people started to feel bad for him. Many started making excuses for him, "Oh, he was drunk!" "He was just being Kanye." "He's just young and foolish." "He's just arrogant." Everyone and their mother called him an idiot, but still sympathized for him.

Now.

If you plug-in Bush's name above, can you identify some of the similarities between them?

Bush is respected by many Republicans and people in the oil business too. He's not articulate either, despite a Harvard education. I mean, you would have thought him a 'college drop-out.' Ha! He started a war that our military had no business fighting in overseas. Then 9-11 happened....Hurricane Katrina came after it. His response to helping New Orleans was appalling to anybody with a beating heart. Yet people still symphathized for him as well. "He was in shock." "He didn't know what to do." "He had little control over things in office, that was his cabinet who handled it!" "He is an alcoholic." "His father made him that way."

Why must people make excuses for two of the country's biggest idiots?

Kanye thinks Bush hates black people. Bush thinks that Kanye calling him a racist was one of the most horrible moments for him in office.

Please.

Both of them are a joke! They are arrogant and self-centered. They spew out nonsense without thinking it through in their minds. They are too rich to know how to connect with people anymore. They are surrounded by too many enablers. And chances are, they could be the best of friends...if Kanye could look past the fact that he destroyed our economy and created additional enemies for us...and Bush could look past the fact that he said he hates black people and didn't vote for him.

I can't stand either one of them. But they should hug it out. Then go sit their asses down in a damn corner somewhere until we say, "it's time to get up."

I am that tired of hearing them talk. Just mean, I know.

Zodiac

"You can't always be in perfect sync with the people around you. It may feel like you're missing out on the joke or are a bit late to the party, but this feeling will soon pass. Don't let it unnerve you or weaken your self-confidence. You've got some special plans coming up, and they could be distracting your energy right now. The good news is that by being out of step, you're getting a revealing look at some key players."

[blank stare]

That was my astrology reading for today. And, no. I have no idea how this relates to my life today?

I am always the one telling terrible jokes that nobody ever gets, not vice versa! So what the hell are they talking about? Oh, and trust me. I'm not letting anything or one distract me from my 'special plans' coming up. You better believe that!

Astrology readings barely ever relate to my life. Maybe, like 15% of the time. And even the ones that I can sort of relate to? It's like I had to force a connection with keywords and my current situation. Or think extra hard about these predictions..."a stranger from the past will contact you." Me! Why? And what do they want from me?

I use to stress myself out over those readings.

And why wouldn't I? I thought in my mind, 'this has to be right.' If the Leo/Cancer zodiac signs could describe me perfectly (despite being on the cusp), then why wouldn't the readings be true?

Well, they're just not. And, yes. It only took me 29 years to figure this one out. I was a believer! Kill me.

Conclusion: A super-sensitive or a smart guy named Bob writes millions of these 'general' readings everyday. Bob, most likely did research on the common stresses of people who range in age from 25 to 80 years old (old folks love horoscopes). The super-sensitive senses their way through readings. They can feel the happiness or tension of others caused by money, love, and death. So, they write about these things.

I mean, who isn't hurting by the economy? Don't say, Bush. He's not human, and neither are the people in Hollyweird. Rich people are hurting and poor people are dying, period.

Who is looking for love? Already in love? I know many people who stay in love. No, resting periods for them at all. As soon as one lover goes down in the flames, another new comes up. I am certain there is a speed dial system to find rebounds too. It is called Myspace, Gmail, Yahoo, Facebook, Hotmail, and Linkedln.

Who knows of someone relatively close who passed away recently? I do. Ever heard of the idea of famous people dying in groups of 6? Creepy. But is so true! But only because people die everyday, we just don't know every single one of them personally.

Back on subject, it is safe to say that I believe in astrological signs...just not these detailed readings provided everyday about my sign.

Phaedra

I'm on a roll about babies today. So, I just have one final thing to say about Phaedra from Housewives of Atlanta.

What the hell is wrong with her? She embarrasses me with her ignorance. She is suppose to be this successful lawyer, yet something is really wrong with her. Really wrong!

List of Things Wrong with Phaedra:
1) She believes her husband should shower her with material items instead of focusing on their emotional needs. 2) She just loves foie gras! 3) She thought it would be cute to suck on a pickle during her pregnant photo shoot. 4) She thinks putting confection sugar in her vajayjay makes it nice and sticky. 5) She doesn't know how far along she is in her pregnancy. 6) She plans to be induced during her seventh month of pregnancy. 7) She wears a white eyeliner on top of her mutli-colored eye shadows.

I just had to get this off my chest!

I wanted her to be the normal, smart, and sophisticated member of the group.

But no.

Guess I am still Team Kandi and Nene...

Babies on the Brain

Not because I am pregnant, but because this is what women my age (29) think about a lot more. We think about if our eggs are going to be any good? Will our babies come out with 13 toes? Will they have learning disabilities? Will I develop arthritis by the time my child is playing on a soccer field? Will my kid's friends ask them, "are those your grandparents?" And more, importantly. Do I even want to have a baby at this point in my life? Adoption could be an option, but living my life child-free could be another one too.

Those questions may seem silly, but the older we get the louder our biological clock ticks, and that's real.

Which brings me to the topic of my young 21 year old co-worker. She expressed to me just last week that she plans on having a baby next year. At age 22 years old. She has no partner, boyfriend, or husband to conceive this baby with next year, btw. But there is one prospect.....this guy with the pretty hair and nice lips.

My response: really, why?
Her response: I know I'll be ready to have a baby next year. Plus, my mother says it's okay!

Um, okay.

But curious, since when did feeling you're ready to have a baby or receiving the approval to have a baby make it okay to actually have one? Just because I want to blow my entire paycheck on a trip to Hawaii or punch my old boss in the face; doesn't mean I should do it.

That's just crazy!

Now, I remember when I was her age....thought I had it figured out. At 21, I would have my fabulous career after graduation. At 22 years old, I would be married. By 25? I would have my first baby, a girl...and lots of pink! Life would be grand. Then I would have my second baby, a boy! Then I would live happily ever after...and then I woke up. I realized there was much more to do and see, and the boyfriend/husband and baby plans could be put on hold for a later date.

What bothers me the most about my coworker's statement is her enabler, her mother. What ever happened to encouraging your children to have a career first and a family second? Or encouraging them to travel the world and meet different types of people? So, when they return home. They can share with you, what they learned from these countries.

I don't mean to judge, and that is exactly what I am doing here. I know! But aren't we selling ourselves and our children short when we don't explore our options? I noticed many of the children that I taught in Baltimore weren't told they could go to college to become a doctor...or even graduate high school. And, why not? Because they didn't know this idea to be an option for them?

That makes me so angry!

I only wish every young person knew they could do whatever they want in life. Of course, not without a struggle. But they can do it!

Now, I do realize there are people with very specific goals in life. To have a family (or baby) could be one. To be successful in your career is another one. To just be happy is a possible one too, but only for the humble or the people who have (or had) fucked up lives. I have no issues with that at all. I just hope these people with very specific goals know there are other options for them too.

It makes me sad when we don't dream big. Because it means we weren't dreaming big to begin with...and where's the fun in that?

Sweet Sounds to My Ears

Good morning. How are you? Thank you. You look pretty today! Have you lost some weight? Quota! You look the same age as those high school girls. I love you! Your hair looks really nice. I miss you. You made me feel better. You are so crazy! Good night.

Whomever said flattery and kindness will get you far, ain't never lied!

I  won't ever forget to say words like these to anyone, because I know it only takes one compliment or kind word to brighten up the day of a friend or even a stranger.

What are sweet words to you ears? I'm not taking notes or anything. Just wondering.

Look, Ma! I'm a Blogger Now.

It only took me two hours of feeling frustrated, not being able to sleep, and a bad movie (actually two) from Redbox to create my very first blog at 2:41 am.

What do I hope to gain from this blogging thing? A new way to express myself. Self-reflection on the good and bad. An opportunity to make myself laugh, and you. Or maybe not, if you don't find me funny. Obviously, I want my words to be heard. Hear your opinions too, regardless if you agree with me or not.

In The Diaries of Little Retta, I promise not be afraid to speak my mind. I will not cuss up a storm. I will not get ugly before 2 pm. I will keep the content written appropriate (to my standards). I will not shout out or call-out names, unless you ask me to do it. I will post faithfully six days a week (this will become a lie at a later date).

What have I already noticed from typing this blog? All the frustration I was feeling 50 minutes ago is gone. Writing here feels much better than ranting through a status on Facebook. Only better because it is now my version of a personalized Twitter (since I am anti).

Goodnight!