Black don't crack - this bitch is getting her sexy back...for serious this time.. Volume 57

Let's not sugar coat it. Black don't crack, we all know that. Sure my face will be as smooth as a baby's butt for the next 60 years, give or take a decade, which is great but I have been squandering that gift by not keeping up with my fitness.  In light of recent events (please see the last article I posted) I have been given a rude awakening. The article is about a black woman that is 34 and has been playing a 17 year old girl for about 17 years. According to my calculations I should be able to pass for 14, however lately I have been happy just to get carded.
I did what any sensible person would do having had this revelation. I went straight out and joined a gym this morning before work. All day I was thinking about how hard I was gonna' get on my grind. I was gonna' be on a diet water and light celery diet and 'get it in' in the gym about 4 hours a day. I was trucking right along until the car ride home. I was listening to some sweet R &B jams, and although no one will believe me I am pretty sure I heard R Kelly say
"My mind's telling me no, but my body...my body's telling me ye-es... it ain't nothing wrong, with a little taco bell, with a little taco bell"
Me - what?
Kelly ( I call him Kelly now) "it ain't nothing wrong, with a little taco bell"
me - *finger on ear piece* "with a little taco bell"

.............

I think we all know what happened next. *playing in the background " don't listen to, what people say, they don't know about this love"* I finished what I told myself was my last bad meal for quite some time and then began to prepare for my trip to the gym. The last time I legitimately cared about fitness was college so I thought to myself, let's break out the OU check list :

- OU hoodie, check
- super high bouncy pony tail, with skinny head band (still not sure what the purpose of this is), check
- mp3 player filled with filthy lil wayne jams, check
- unnecessarily short shorts with paw prints on the butt...we'll put a pin in this until further notice

Opening the door and stepping in was like stepping into a time machine. The place was filled with a lot of young men with tight glistening muscles and 2 girls. One girl is the girl who is always there that makes you feel secure with yourself, you give that girl the 'its me and you girl' look but in your head your like, ok....it could be worse - but then while you're busy being a terrible person you catch sight of the other girl in your peripheral...... That girl is wearing a tank top, with what I can only imagine are classified as bikini bottoms, full make up and prom hair....most offensively, she is in shape. How do I have roid rage without the roids??? I digress... I decided I was going to run for an hour straight, if the people on Extreme Weight loss Makeover can do it, then I can do it, right? 15 minutes into it I started having thoughts like, who said you can't crawl on a treadmill? As I looked down after a while to see if my feet were still moving, because I could no longer feel my lower extremities, I saw a red tab with a string on it plugged into the machine. The instructions were to pull it if you feel light-headed or sick in anyway. For a moment I forgot where I was and I laughed and said audibly " where's the 'pull this tab if your out of goddamn shape option'?"..... I heard the man next to me chuckle and I knew I was among friends. Pony boy stayed gold and I made it through the hour... I might even go back one day too.....

Dating Games or Hunger Games?

Remeber that skit from SNL about ten years ago with Will Ferrell, Anna Gastyer and Sara Michell Gellar where they are a family  eating dinner and their dinner just disolves into noises of silverware loudly hitting the plate and random yelling with Will ending it by screaming things like "I am an assistant manager!", "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"  . That's basically where you hope you can work your way up to during a 15 hour car ride with another person. Now don't get me wrong, there are some non-damning highlights. We saw Niagara Falls for my first time, spectacular. At one point when I was bumpin' some Ricky Rosae he sat straight up out of a dead sleep and said "Huh? What? God forgives and I don't! " then went directly back to sleep.
But the rest of it is basically issues that would normally be able to be easily resolved turning into near impossible missions. We are tired, just go to sleep right? Not an option. We are hungry, just eat a hearty meal right? "Super glad we ate straight garbage from a reststop and are trapped in a car together for several hours! " said no one ever.
It gets to the point where you just lose your mind. This starts to become your inner thought "if I hear backseat driving one more f***** time I swear to God," "maybe I can just give him a peanut butter and benedryl sandwich and drop him off at the next rest stop , tape our home address to his shirt and keep it moving. Nope, still 9 more goddamn hours of driving, what is this, the Never Ending Story?"
You look at yourself in the mirror and say "come on Katniss, think ! There has to be a way for us to both get out of here alive! ", then this conversation happens:
Him:"Oh look, its Kennebunkport!"
Me: "Um, ok???"
Him: "you don't know what Kennebunkport is? Are you a f*cking American?!?!"
Me: a lot of blinking
Him: "the president vacations here ! Steven King lives here!"
Me: pulling out phone
Him: "Are you blogging this???? Are you?"

......silence. ....

Me : "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"

The Internship - An Introspective

I went to see The Internship tonight which was a hilarious movie (and I'm not just saying that because they said my name roughly 40 times in the first 10 minutes). The movie was great and made me think long and hard about 2 things : I am still harboring deeply sensual feelings for Vince Vaughn, and that's on me, I need to work through that, and the other thing is how I am the reverse Benjamin Button of aging. On the inside I am aging at warp speed. Allow me to explain:

• My memory is fading. Fast. This week I decided to get back on the caboose of the weight loss train. Is it me or does it always seems to be rapidly pulling out of Shining Time Station and I have to James Bond myself on the back rail at the last second? Any who, I realize that the most convenient time for me to work out is in the morning, but the large problem with that is that I hate mornings. I ended up grabbing a supplement to kick start this nightmare. So one morning, I wake up early, drink the supplement (from the comfort of my own bed) and sure as shit was wide awake and was able to bang out a solid 45 on the elliptical. I hopped in the shower, threw on my clothes and sped off to work. 3/4 of the way there a horrible realization swept over me. I forgot to brush my teeth. I reluctantly looked in the mirror to find an extra from the Hills Have Eyes staring back at me. My teeth were covered in crackers from a snack I had the night before and red supplement powder. I pulled over, found a bottle of water and napkins in my car and gave my mouth a whore bath. Of course today is the day that everyone at the office wants to talk incredibly close to my face which forced me to try to keep the top of my turtleneck as close to my mouth as possible. Unfortunately I sneezed into the top part of my turtleneck causing it to smell like a used diaper covered in burnt hair. Needless to say I drove home on my lunch break to burn my turtleneck and brush my teeth and tongue for 30 minutes......it was a dark time.

• I pulled my back at work clicking my mouse and looking at someone who was talking to me at the same time. That is all I have to say about that.

• My old black man tendencies are on over-drive. On any given Sunday you can find me sipping whiskey, listening to the Temptations and thinking abut simpler times. I care way too much about people walking on my grass and I squint at them through my screen door. Not to mention recently I was with a group of people , most of them younger then me and the discussion of interracial relationships came up. I decided to say, "Now kids you have to understand that not too long ago interracial relationships were illegal. Illegal. In 1967 (notice the year quote), 12 short years before my boyfriend was born, the case of Loving v Virginia took place. Back then we" (everyone looks at me like, WE?).....and I continued on my soap box unfazed.

• I drink Metamucil everyday, care increasingly about manners and use the phrases "these kids today" and "young bloods" allot, and not in a joking ironic fashion.

In conclusion it is only a matter of time before I am bleaching my change of life mustache and slowly removing piles of Sweet N Low and Worther's Originals from pocketbook to grab my coin purse out to make exact change despite the long line behind me, and you know what? I'm OK with that.

Tyler Perry presents Fievel goes South

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Vibrator Monologues

I had a batchelorette party to go to, so I realized that requires a batchelorette present. Believe it or not this was my first batchelorette party so I did a little Google search to find out what the appropriate gift is. It turns out that the bride expects things from you that will enhance her sexy time with her new mate. I realized with my insane work schedule I would have little time to procure such things, so I had to find a place in my hometown. Turns out, that our town is too small and too large to have an adult toy store, but via the interwebs I found out that Walgreen's (the Cadillac of CVSs) has its own little freak nasty section. I cruised on over,pulled up outside, and parked.

I couldn't get out of the car. Intense paralyzing waves of Catholic guilt were washing over me. Finally I looked myself in the mirror and I said "you stay gold, Ponyboy...stay gold" Once inside I quickly realized that I didn't have time to wander the store searching for this stuff. So I called over an employee and here's where it goes down hill.

Because I am Barry Badgernath (if you haven't seen Beer Fest, stop what you're doing and go rent it immediately...classic) what I thought I said was:

"Excuse me valued Walgreen's team member, please show me to your finest accoutrements for sexual stimulation"

That is not what I said.

I whispered the following:

"So if I was....... that's silly, not me, not that I wouldn't do that, I mean if you do, I'm not judging you, but this is for someone else whose not here....I mean not just anyone, I know her.....let me start over....in the beginning...... when a man and a woman love each other....... *points to crotch* if you want to do stuff with your downstairs bathing suit area..."

Finally after I sweat through my coat, the girl laughed and said "I think I know what you're looking for". We made our way through the Narnia that is the geriatric isle, diapers and baby wipes, and then there it was....

There are way more choices there than one would think.  Because I am Chandler Bing when I reached up to read the packaging on one of the products I knocked EVERYTHING over and said "oh no, oh no no no".  Every grandfather and mother of 3 children in the tri-county area peered into the isle to see me holding what can only be described as a plethora of dildos,vibrators and lubes.  I laughed awkwardly and said "these aren't my one a day women's vitamins".....tough crowd.

So finally I made a choice and walked up to the check out counter to see everyone's uncle that lives with their grandma standing behind the register. Just when I felt the sweat beads starting to form again, the girl from before says she'll ring me up at the make up counter. *mental fist pump* I thought I was home free. She asked me if I had my Walgreen's card with me ,I told her I didn't so she said she could look it up with my phone number and I thought, fantastic... I did not know she was new. As soon as I saw her reach for the phone I had to fight the urge to slap it out of her hand, I knew what was coming. "Back up at the make up counter, BACK UP"...F*** me.

So after that public shaming I rushed out the front door, only to see my face 30 years from now... that's right folks. Ran right into my mother.

Mom: We got to stop meeting like this *hearty laugh*...get it?

Me: Richard Pryor much? love it, anywho....

Mom: What did you get babe, any good deals?

Me: Oh stuff, how about them Indians tho, am I right? Crazy, well, good seein ya. Really great stuff. Let's do lunch!!Ok, buh-bye then...

Mom:*laughter* quit being crazy girl, whats in the bag?

*hang my head...hand her the bag*

DEAFENING SILENCE......MOM BLINKING ...ALOT

Mom: *cough,cough* Honey and whip cream are on sale at Marc's...that's all I'm going to say.

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, without a dope beat to step to

So, recently I went to Kalahari for the second time with my boyfriends family. I had a delightful time.  It was full of laughs, spirits and frivolity. But this was my second time going. My first time was not so uneventful. *Cue wavy Saved By the Bell flashback lines* . Many fortnights ago, when my boyfriend and I had just begun dating, his mother invited me on a fun filled family trip to the 2000s Wally World also known as Kalahari. I was beyond anxious to go, the commercials made stewing in child urine soup look like a gangsta's paradise.  Everything was going smoothly until it was suggested  that my boyfriend and I , his sister and her husband go down a ride called "The Toilet Bowl". The name itself is a deterrent which is why I was , in a word, deterred; not to mention the fact that it is necessary to climb roughly 462 steps before even making it to this death trap. I could feel the air getting thinner the higher we climbed Mordor but of course I got the usual guilt trip. Some woman in front of me over heard me rubbing my hands together nervously and mumbling my protests under my breath "pretty sure I heard this causes cancer, but I mean, whatever".... and felt the need to turn around, display her small child to me and say " He's been down it 20 times, you'll be fine. Look, there's more little children over there.  If they can do it, so can you".  I wanted to say "Shut your goddamn mouth when your talking to me, and tell your oompa loompa to face forward" but instead I gave her the fake PTA mom smile and soldiered on.
It is important to note that at this time in my life I also did not give 2 shits about eating properly or working out or doing what is necessary to look like an acceptable human being. I would sometimes just open my closet door and whisper " Be cool, my babies. We will be together again soon". I was buying my dress pants at Walmart....at night- among my people .... because they have stretchy waist bands and that was all that would fit me. #Mean Girls Swag #Self respect fail
Even as they were loading me into the shoot I was saying things that made no sense like, "you know what,i need to take a knee, can we talk about this?" , "is there a seat belt?" , "i think i pulled a hammy" and "im waiting for my son".  They soon figured out I had no son and shoved me off to certain death. The "Toilet Bowl" is exactly that. You slide down a tube in total darkness until you drop into a toilet bowl, swirl around it and fall through a hole into the pool below.  The strategy is to try to position your body so that you may fall through the hole feet first, sink down in the pool and swim out. Of course that didn't work out for me and I fell through the hole head first. I got disoriented and swam to the bottom of the pool instead of the top. At one point I could have sworn I heard 'The Sound of Silence' playing in the distance.  "Hello darkness my old friend..."  I clearly and distinctly remember having the thought, "Really? This is how I'm gonna go out? In a goddamn plastic Serengeti ? Fine... just take me" . As soon as I gave up, I of course floated to the top. However by that time, it became clear to the people on the main land that a small brown child was drowning in the pool. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw McLovin's dopple ganger running into the pool with his red baywatch board  blowing his whistle at no one in particular. When my boyfriend began to the enter the pool to save my embarrassing life, McLovin blew his tiny rape whistle in my boyfriend's face and screamed in his prepubescent voice "Sir! Stay where you are sir.Sir , stay back!" Even when Michael Cera and I got to the area of the pool where I could touch the bottom, he refused to let me not hold on to the baywatch board; his voice cracking as he squeaked about protocol. This is my nightmare. This is my Nam. I started Lieutenant Danning the shit out of this kid, but he was having none of it and Forest Gumped me to safety  Naturally my boyfriend's entire family is standing at the edge of the pool watching the demise of my dignity and just when I think its over and Ichibod Crane is dragging my shell of a human being to the shore, my boyfriend's sister alerts me to the fact that my top has come down, and my sweater meat is on display. So just to recap, I almost drowned on a child's slide, got dragged to safety by a guy whose balls hadn't dropped and then proceeded to flash my tig ol bitties to my boyfriend's immediate family as well as his aunts, uncle and cousins and all other children and parents who were watching this train wreck. Not a good look.

This most recent time I came wearing a one piece and avoided my Nemesis all together, Fool me once.....

The White Rabbit

Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Said by the King to the White Rabbit
English author & recreational mathematician (1832 - 1898)

I followed the white rabbit this weekend and so I do not know where to begin, so I will attempt to being at the beginning. On Friday night my friend asked me to accompany her to something called a Pure Romance party which was being thrown by her coworker. For those of you who do not know what that is, it was marketed to me as a get together of sorts where one may procure sexual delights while eating tasty treats.... What my dear friend failed to mention to me was that her coworker and EVERYONE else at the party were over 55. Imagine the most sexually awkward Guess Whose Coming to Dinner...and you still wouldn't quite get it. Imagine if all of your mom's friends called you into a basement, put a vibrator in your hand and told you that you were about to play "Never have I ever" then you might have a better idea. Oh wait, did I mention that their version of Never have I Ever involves sitting on other peoples laps? I spent the first half of my Friday night thinking every 5 minutes "what new fresh hell is this?".......sitting in a half moon kindergarten circle passing around creams and devices, then sitting on middle aged woman's laps admitting to tales of my sexual exploits(PS. you don't get to explain, you just move to the next lap. I didn't get to say things like "it was college!"... "Jack Daniels is a hell of a drug!"). After that nightmare we were sent upstairs to the snack table, near the pictures of the hosts freckle faced children to look through our catalogue and make our selections. I could feel the children in the pictures judging me. I looked up from my booklet to see 7 Angela Lansburys putting on their spectacles, licking the tip of their pointer fingers then their lips and scanning the pages. One of them in particular had every model of everything and some Xanex she wasn't afraid to offer like they were tic tacs. Afterwards I went home and tried to drink until I couldn't feel feelings anymore, but that was a temporary fix....I still can't close my eyes, or look at bananas or smell strawberries.  I shudder when anyone reaches out to touch me. Hopefully I'll be OK in time.

Saturday night, nothing crazy to report. I went to see an amazing Beatles cover band and stayed relatively out of harms way.


Oh, but Sunday.... Hey Ladies, whenever your man comes to you and says "Hey Babe, you know how I 'insert some shit here he did that he only did because of you '?" he is going to ask you to do something terrible. My man followed that with "Can we go to a little person wrestling match?"....  I spent Sunday night in Lakewood with roughly 1,000 other people in a seedy bar backroom watching little people fight each other to the death. I'm not proud of myself. Who should be less proud of themselves? Perhaps the 6 girls who went into the ring during the "half time" show to have a grinding contest. The two best tiny gladiators laid down in the middle of the ring while girls of questionable moral fiber gyrated their tiny pelvises into the mat. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it became a grind off. The one who clearly has spent time on the pole was greatly outshining the other. Her opponent realizing she was in danger of walking away with only her glaring self hatred and some measly participation points ripped off her shirt...and then her bra..... Whenever you are having a bad day Lovers and Friends I want you to think about this story, but most importantly that not only are you NOT grinding a tiny man into oblivion in front of a thousand of your peers, but you didn't take your bra off only to STILL LOSE to a more skill full fully clothed opponent..... I have a feeling that the girl who lost's darkest days are not behind her.

May God have mercy on us all....