Only me.

Our widowed neighbor is away on a church retreat. Mr. 1969, is the best neighbor on the block (unless you are the Wu Tang house) so, of course, he volunteered to take care/feed her pets while she is away.

This morning, as I sit here and work on my computer banging out a report, Mr. 1969 calls me from his office “Babe, can you go feed the pets next door? I forgot.” They have a cat and a guinea pig. I can’t remember if I shared this but the last time I went over to feed her cat earlier in the summer, the cat escaped and I had to wait 30 minutes to track down and touch an animal that causes me to sneeze profusely.

I grabbed her keys and took the boys with me and headed over there. She has an alarm system on the house and a small key fob for it that looks like a remote control for a car. One of the buttons looks like a man going through a door. I clicked on it and entered the house.

One minute later, I hear the alarm saying INTRUDER, FRONT DOOR MOTION DETECTED and then the ear shattering alarm kicks in. *sigh* The phone rings and I pick it up and calmly let them know that I am here to feed the pets. They, of course, can’t track the neighbor down. They managed to shut off the alarm but had to call the police out to verify my story.

Two handsome members of Philly’s Finest rolled up, verified my photo id, checked the house and then started laughing at me. I told them it was Mr. 1969′s fault. They agreed and wrote out a nice little “faux” citation for me to give him.

How has YOUR morning been?

An Open Letter To Kim K.

Dear Ms. Ka.rda.shi.an:

May I call you Kim? I have watched your show. I even watched pieces of your fake wedding. From my perspective, your family started out with a somewhat normal life.

Your dad was a high powered attorney. Your childhood was one of privilege. Your mother left your dad for Br.uce Je.nner and you continued to enjoy the limelight and a good life. Your friends were famous. You grew up hanging out with the likes of Ms. Hilton and such. Young Hollywood. You saw how P.ar.is became famous for nothing and you and your mom saw a business model that you could all follow.

The tape with Brandy’s brother ensued and you became a household name. Your mom (and Rya.n Sea.crest) seized on the opportunity to make money for the whole family and your show was born. Every second of your life has been filmed for the past few years. Public scandals, breakups, intimate details of all of your relationships. Your mom has seen to it that none of you will ever have to work a real day for the remainder of your lives. I can’t knock the hustle.

However, you just went through yet another very public relationship, over the top million dollar wedding and 72 days later, filed for divorce. I can’t believe that you are truly happy living like this. Always having to be in full make up. Always getting followed by a camera and photographed. Always on display and needing to be that way for the sake of your family’s income.

Think about it….What marriage would survive a 24 hour camera crew and daily meetings to discuss what moments of your life will make it on the show this week?

All of the “real” men you dated all left because they didn’t want to deal with you and your family and the constant scrutiny. Any man that would want to be with you at this point probably has a touch of fame whore running through his veins. Every guy you meet on the show often has a snippet of you “warning them” what your life is like. *sigh*

Now you’re saying you are leaving your husband because he wanted to move you to Minnesota (to have a real marriage) and you couldn’t leave LA, your family and the spotlight? WOW. When is enough money enough? That 17 million added to the rest of the empire wasn’t enough?

If you want to ever have any semblence of a real life, you need to man up, put your big booty girl panties on and kick your family to the curb STAT. Seriously. Put your foot down and take some time off to stop self promoting uh….whatever it is you do. Scrape that make up off. Travel. Breathe. That life you are living is not real.

Now if you were a part of all these shenanigans and the entire wedding was dreamed up for ratings and money….then you win the double side-eye award. BYTCH.

 

Losing the battle……

Yesterday, since we were snow/iced inside, we spent the afternoon watching lots of football. During the game, the commercial for Ed.die M.ur.phy’s new movie came on. The promo showed a scene where he was talking about lesbians. The line was pretty funny and Mr. 1969 and I laughed out loud.This led to Tali 1 asking me,

“Mommy, what’s a lesbian?”

I, of course, had been waiting for one of these moments all of my life. I was prepared and answered with the quickness: “ASK DADDY!”

Mr. 1969 replied without a beat “Well, Tali 1, you were born in April so your zodiac sign is ARIES, Tali 2 was born in May, his zodiac sign is TAURUS. Mommy was born in July and her zodiac sign is CANCER. A lesbian is one of those signs.”

All I could do was stare at him with my mouth hanging open. Tali 1 said “OK” and promptly went back to whatever he was doing as Mr. 1969 looked all smug and pleased with himself.

I need reinforcements people. Send reinforcements.

 

I ain’t no expert

Yesterday’s marriage post was born out of a conversation I had with a good friend the other day. She called and started telling me all of her current dating woes. After about an hour of her telling me all the things her man was not doing, I asked her one question.

“If he never calls you when he says he will, always cancels when you make plans together and only wants to play video games…why are you with him?”

Then she got huffy with me and told me “just because I have a man”, I don’t understand what she goes through as a single woman.

*sigh*

I know the blog world has exhausted the married vs. single women debate. I am not trying to go there. I think we can all agree that some married people have bad relationships and some single people have great ones. I am no expert on telling people how to live their lives.

However, don’t call me to talk about your relationship and then get huffy with me when I ask you a blatantly obvious question. I can’t tell you about your relationship but I AM able to recognize trifling. I can also let you know that you are becoming used to being with trifling and because of that, you will have no room in your life for above average, good or excellent.

Don’t get mad at me because you know I’m right. Seriously. I don’t walk around like Mr. 1969 and I open our front door and unicorns and rainbows pour out of our home. Hell, if I ever do that and you know me? Slap the daylights out of me. No relationship is perfect. Like I said yesterday, being married is even more challenging than being single cause no matter what you are going through….a single person can wake up at any time and simply say “no mas” and walk away.

Friends want friends to be happy. PERIOD. Single or married. You deserve better and I am not afraid to remind you of that.

 

Dumbazz of the day

Let’s just break this down shall we….for the past 10 years, you have hid the fact that

1) you have been having an ongoing affair for almost 1/2 of your marriage

2) the woman you are cheating with works for you and your wife and is on the payroll

3)  She got pregnant and you both kept it on the down low from her husband, your wife and family and the child for a decade

4) She has worked with you and your family in your own house for 20 years. She has been a close member of your staff. She probably is around your wife and kids daily.

5) You kept this child from your wife for a decade.

I don’t even know where to start with this situation. This is the epitome of selfishness. Arnold, whoever said you can’t act needs to retract that cause this performance you have put on is Oscar worthy. You have been acting your azz off for the last decade.

My heart goes out to all of the children involved in this situation. Your four (ages 13-20) and the 10 year old. How embarassing and awkward for all of them.

Maria, you need to get Gloria Allred on the line if she hasn’t called you already. You deserve every last cent of that Terminator fortune.

Ahhhnold…..you sir, are the Dumbazz of the Day.

Angry Black Woman

The political events in the United States in the last week have really disappointed and angered me.

The simple fact that the “Birther” movement was able to challenge the highest ranking official in our country and force him to have to show his birth certificate is ridiculous. I am all for democracy. I am all for the people having the right to question the actions of elected officials.

However, I am certain there is someone who has the job of making sure the candidates and people who run for office are legal and have the right to do so. If you want to question Obama’s birth certfifcate, shouldn’t that be directed to the person who verified the information? How do you bypass that individual and go driectly to the President and question him when he has already accepted the position? You are challenging him directly to prove he should be there?

Now, they are calling for him to produce his transcripts? Enough is enough.

When a black man is standing in the room as your Commander in Chief and probably has among the best credentials of any of his consitituents and he is still being asked to produce proof that he deserves to be there, it’s RACIST. Simple and plain.

If we never asked Bush to show his C average transcripts from Yale, why are we challenging Obama who had an impeccable Harvard education? He also didn’t come from money so his “Daddy” never made any phone calls or greased any palms to get him into school. He worked for his.

I am so disappointed by this turn of events. Even if you don’t care for his politics, you have to take a good hard look at our nation when a twice divorced (and he was in my NY hotel when he was served with papers from his first wife as he was lunching with his current mistress) shady real estate publicity seeker can challenge the highest ranking official in our land on his credentials.

Yes, I am going to say it….this WOULD NOT happen to a white President.

Husbands…can’t live with em

We had a friend’s son hang out with us and spend the night last night. The boys had a blast playing together all day. We wore them out! I put them to bed around 9pm, Mr. 1969 went upstairs to watch a game (and fall asleep) and I laid on the couch downstairs reading a book. After a long day…I was planning on having an uneventful night.

Well around 10:30pm, I could hear somebody being violently ill. If I couldn’t hear it, I surely wouldn’t have missed two boys screaming “Tali 2 is puking everywhere!” *sigh*

My boys have bunk beds. The kind where there is a twin on top and a full sized bed below. Tali 2 was in the top bunk which now looked like something spilled in Hell’s Kitchen and he was so dazed and confused, he laid back down  and went back to sleep in the middle of all the damage. It was indeed an assault on the senses.

I sent the two boys (who were delighting in screaming and trying to climb up to look at my baby and laugh) in to sleep in our guest room and tucked them in and shut the door.  I woke up Tali 2, made him stand up in the bed and take everything off. I scooped him up in a big towel and gave him a hot shower, rubbed him down with lotion and dressed him in some fleece jammies.

“Mom” “Yes baby” “Can I have socks?” Yes, I even got him clean socks….you know how particular he is about his attire….even when sick (Viva la cold pants revolution (c) Jameil).

 After he was dressed, I put him in my bed next to Mr. 1969 (who was STILL sleeping).

I went downstairs, grabbed the bleach, rags, my bucket, mop and a pair of gloves and came back upstairs to work on that bed. The pillows went straight into a garbage bag. OUT! Everything else I threw in the boys tub and washed till I at least got them clean enough to put in the washing machine. Then I started scrubbing the mattress. Then I decided to just clean the whole bathroom.

When I was done and finally went back in to the bedroom to check on Tali 2, Mr. 1969 FINALLY woke up and said “What happened?”

I cussed him out for about ten minutes. How are you in the bedroom next to your kids and you don’t hear a thing? I was downstairs and I heard it. I left him with Tali 2 and went back downstairs to sleep on the couch.

Did I mention that yesterday, I left the house at 7:30 am and did a one hour spin class and then swam about 20 laps afterwards? Can I tell you how good my old muscles are feeling this morning after mopping, scrubbing and then sleeping on the couch?

So you know I was more than a little salty at Mr. 1969 this morning right?

He came downstairs and made breakfast for the two older boys. He came and sat next to me on the couch and said “Do you remember what happened the last time BOY “Z”  spent the night at our house?”

I thought for a good minute….”Yes. The fish incident!”

“Clearly we can’t have him back over. He causes Tali 2 to react violently.”

See? Even when I’m mad at him, he makes me laugh.

Open Letter to T.I.

Dear Mr. Harris…

May I call you T.I.? You were just sentenced to 11 months in jail after just getting out on weapons charges a few months ago.

Yes, I can acknowledge that everyone is human and makes mistakes because only God can judge someone, it’s not my role. However, I feel the need to address some of the aspects of your charges. When people get into rapping, they have dreams of making it big. Making lots of money and being adored by fans. You had all of this.

When I first heard you were driving around with a boatload of weapons in your car, I had to ask myself….WHAT THE FUDGE? Did you need money? Were you a secret arms dealer down there in Georgia? Didn’t you have anyone else that could have been your drop off, delivery person for the exchange? Did you really need to be in the parking lot selling guns with the mother of your children riding shotgun?

Now you’re headed back to jail as a result of you AND wour wife driving around in a car full of drugs and with drugs in your system while still on probation for your previous charges? *sigh* My first question is why are you two still able to maintain custody of your children? You do understand that parents should not be high and caring for kids on a daily basis right? Ecstasy, weed and driving? Really?

You sir, need to be thrown in jail for good. How many chances do you have to be given? Making a catchy song does not entitle you to be reckless, stupid and to endanger your kids. And for real, those guns you were selling? Who did you think was going to eventually end up owning them? How many kids in the ATL might end up shot because of your actions?

Then you want to be on PSA’s telling people to not make the mistakes you made? iCan’t

Nice guy or not, you are a danger to yourself, your family and others. You don’t deserve to be rich. You don’t deserve to be famous. I knew so many hustlers like you growing up in Brooklyn and they were certainly not anyone I would want my kids to listen to or idolize. You are nothing but a common street thug and a dumb one at that.

With all that you have been blessed with, you could do so much for so many. Instead, you are self destructing and taking your family down with you. Do some soul searching while you’re in the pokey and come out and help those kids that buy your records and look up to you. Stop destroying yourself and our community. DO BETTER.

Regards,

1969

FYI….Mama 1969 lives in Brooklyn.

I posted my thoughts on several of the dresses worn at the Emmys yesterday and lo and behold, I received this comment:

“Why not best dresses? Stop being a hater 69. I know sometimes we think need to hate to make ourselves feel better but the fact will stay the same. We’ll always be who we are no matter how negative we are on other people or how much we drug other people in the mud.

We are grown women with kids and we need to be examples. Be positive!”

Since the commenter felt so passionate that I was being a hater I felt the need to address this directly. I know many of you come here and read my little blog about my life and I am always humbled by the fact that anyone would ever want to read anything that I have written. I blog to keep sane. I blog because I like to think out loud and enjoy writing my thoughts down. So when I see remarks like this? From people that don’t really know me? I have to step back and wonder what possesses someone to be so presumptuous with a total stranger.

Lisa, this blog? Well, this is MY space. I write about anything I feel like writing. Some days, I am sunshine and rainbows and some days….I’m not. If you want to read someone being positive and only seeing the bright side of life….this is not the blog for you. On my blog, I can be happy and yup, I can be a catty, evil wench. If you knew me, you would know that I am *gasp* like that in real life. I don’t go around tearing people down to build up my lowly self esteem. I simply abhor these outfits. That’s it. Hate the dresses. Clearly, it’s deeper than that for you.

Instead of telling this grown woman how you think I should act and what you think I should write about, perhaps you should do a little internal soul searching and ask yourself why you care so much about a total stranger? Why you feel the need to be so forward and familiar with a person you have never met? Lastly, what makes you so self righteous to go on someone else’s blog and tell them what you feel they should be writing and then deem them a hater for having *gasp* their own opinion?

If I can only find four outfits that I did not care for, then clearly….I felt everyone else looked great no? Perhaps I did not feel like commenting on the 67 dresses I liked and instead highlighted four I don’t care for? If I’m a hater for having my own opinion and writing it on my own blog, then would it be presumptious of me to call you nosey and judgemental? I would gladly go over to your blog and write that very statement but alas, of course….there is no blog for me to visit. Of course. Internet gangsters never have their own blog do they? No, they like to comment and be rude and then vanish into cyber world where no one can find them. Oh, and I see after perusing my security settings that you comment from the same computer over here on my blog but have several different names. All of your past comments seem to also admonish me for my opinions.

I appreciate your efforts to pyschoanalyze my thought process Lisa but guess what? As you said, I’m a grown woman. Therefore, I have earned the write to think what I like, write what I like and manage my blog the way I see fit. As the title states, my mama lives in Brooklyn and she is pretty much the only person that knows me as well as you think you do.

Thanks for the rude, insensitive comment. Since you clearly seem to take umbrage with me hating, I would encourage you to do the adult thing and stop visiting. Clearly, you don’t really like this blog and it’s not your cup of tea. Or, I could email you and let you know when I am being nice and you can visit on those days. Guess what? Today’s not one of them, so I suggest you click the X in the upper right corner.

As my tagline states….”Armed with an opinion and not afraid to use it.” Since 1969.

The Randomness

Yes, Steven.Sl.a.ter the rogue flight attendant is funny. Everyone wants to applaud him for saying “Take this job and shove it”. I loved the story and his moxie. However, he needs to be fired and brought up on charges. I hate to go there but if he were a flight attendant of another nationality…say Middle Eastern…he would not be a folk hero. 

Mont/ana F.ish.burn is on to something because two weeks ago, I didn’t even know who the hell she was.

Fan.tas.ia, why are you sleeping with someone’s husband? Your life affects me in no way, shape or form but I refuse to feel sorry for you. You met that man, you knew he was married with a child and you pursued it. He’s dead wrong but you are no better. Accept your hand in it and enough with the overdosing on aspirin and one sleeping pill *insert Prince side eye*. You’re grown. You did it. Accept responsibility and woman up to what you did.

The last ten minutes of True Blood were HOT baby. I swear it’s like acceptable pron. LOL

I made quiche last night that was beyond good. Spinach, Mushrooms and Gruyere cheese. I dreamt about the slice I saved for breakfast. But since I saw Inception….was it really a dream? LOL

Go See Inception

I am not trying to be boastful but (gotta love the “but”) your girl has been so focused on her fitness routine. I even worked out with a trainer for a minute. I am so proud, not because of the way I look but because I stuck with it and it has become part of my daily routine.  I also appreciate my husband for always making time for me to workout. He is extremely supportive of this effort. I guess he likes the benefits?

Overheard in the gym this morning between two women:

You should try getting bikini waxed.

Uh no. I’ll pass.

Why, it’s not scary and it doesn’t hurt?

If I ever, EVER decide to have another woman that close to my *&$*$, she better be giving me an orgasm. That shyt is too damn close for comfort. *dead*

I almost fell off the treadmill, I was laughing so hard.

I love watching the Jets at training camp on H.B.O. How can you NOT love football? Bring on the games baby!

Have a great weekend….that’s all I got.