Jesse Jackson Jr Ho-Dogging???

College.  A Black Student Leadership Conference.  That was the first time I laid eyes on Jesse Jackson Jr.  He was the keynote speaker...and yep, he was FINE! :-)  Fast forward to 2012...and I cringe that I ever thought he was the slightest bit attractive.  Hos are not fine nor attractive to me these days.  And yes, it is personal.  Just as personal as it is for the group of female Chicago aldermen that blasted Jesse Jr in the media today after the story broke that he's in plea deals with the feds about misuse of campaign funds, including buying his side chick a $40,000 Rolex. Really???

I do not know him personally, nor his wife, Alderman Sandy Jackson....but it's the same ole story.  The junk is trifling and ridiculous.  Hurtful.  Any extramarital affair is devastating to the wronged spouse....but to add insult to injury, he is sniffing behind a woman who is COMPLETELY opposite of his wife.  Blond and white.  What are you tryin' to say Jesse??? Typical.  Sigh.  And no, it wouldn't have made it better if she were brown-skinned and black-eyed.

Obviously he didn't care enough to even try to hide his indiscretions since he was flying this woman to Chicago to meet him and she was referred to as his "social companion".  So the junk was well-known in their circle.  Sandy eventually found out too...and stayed to work it out.  

Now I know there are those who will say "Well, you don't know what was going on in his marriage.  He was obviously unhappy.  His wife wasn't meeting his needs." Blah blah blah. Bull. B.S. Bullshhhhh! I have had a man tell me how his wife wasn't this and that....how she doesn't do this and that....which was the reason he was doing this and that.  The whole "the devil made me do it" excuse is so lame.  

Listen up all Ho-Dogs (yes, that's my word!).  Stop with the blaming and excuses.  Grow some "balls".  Talk to God.  Talk to your spouse.  Pray with your spouse.  Pray to God.  Get some counselling.  Put some real selfless work in.  It is YOUR responsibility to KEEP the VOWS YOU made!  If all else fails, do the honorable thing and LEAVE!  Don't leave your children.  Don't leave your responsibilities.  Leave the marriage....even if temporarily.  But to sneak around...or worse yet, blatantly cheat on your wife/husband because you are displeased and unsatisfied with the situation??? And don't even get me started on the super selfish crass infuriating  DOWN-LOW MESS.  FIRE!!!

The real is most Ho-Dogs may want to leave, but they don't because they want the double-cheese burger, super-sized fries AND the six-pack abs at the same time.  The comfort of a home, go-to life partner, someone to share the load whether financially, emotionally or otherwise.  It's easier to stay...and stray.  But life doesn't work that way.  Eventually that double-cheese will start popping through them ripped abs.  And everyone will see the evidence of all of those behind closed door binges.  

Sigh again.

bite of the day ~ I had no plans to write about this but I needed to...express.  Prayers up for the Jacksons.  Especially Sandy...but ditto to Alderman Austin. "He would NEED to stay in Mayo Clinic if he was my husband."  Click the link below for the whole article .

http://www.suntimes.com/16251226-761/female-chicago-aldermen-unite-behind-sandi-jackson-one-of-their-own.html


thirtiesgirl

Let's Talk About SEX Part 2

As I splashed through puddles of rain and fallen leaves, feeling the wet seep through my Skechers, I heard what sounded like a low scream from across the street.  Instantly, I looked in the direction of the junior high school I pass practically everyday on my way home.  There were three or four slightly saggin' boys with nice fades surrounding a couple of (obviously) fast girls who were all giggles and grins.  The "scream" had come from the one whose legs were wrapped around the waist of a chocolate saggin'-nice-fade....as he pressed her against the exposed brick of the school....and humped.  I'm assuming in an effort to show her what he's working with.  Sigh.  

 

I see not much has changed since I was in junior high school.  Horny Pricks.  Silly chicks.   Our young freaks would actually double team a boy against a locker between classes, and take turns giggling, groping and squeezing his balls as he squirmed in....pain???  Maybe not.  It looked painful to me.  Of course, I was still years away from "personal experience" at that point....and was actually quite disgusted with the crass display.  What did I know?  Um...nothing.

Except Sex. It was and IS everywhere.  Correction.  The illusion of it is everywhere.  Teasing and taunting....wooing.  But what seems fun and sweet and oh! feels so RIGHT!...can quickly turn to bitter and painful and oh!  just so....WRONG!  Soul ties, broken hearts, oops! pregnancies (younguns AND old-heads who should know better....ijs), and let's not forget STDs (sexually transmitted diseases for those who like to play dumb...). 

Which brings me back to my comment in Part 1...why I can't succumb to my raging hormones and just "give me away".  There are many reasons...but I will wrap them in one simple statement.

 I AM PRECIOUS.

 pre·cious (prshs) KEY

Of high cost or worth; valuable.
Highly esteemed; cherished.
Dear; beloved.
 

The Lord planted this knowing in my deep parts at a very early age.  Damaging words, damaged people and a damaged world has been trying to uproot The Preciousness ever since.  But no matter how many punches, kicks, hair pulls, or soul rips I take, the roots are too deep...so deep that if I attempted to open my legs to an "unworthy", my preciousness would cause them to shake and quack and violently snap shut.  I  AM precious.  Selah.

bite of the day ~ For both ladies&gents, BE PRECIOUS.  RE-program yourself and understand who you are.  You can wait...and you are WORTH waiting for.  Stay tuned for Part 3 to find out my definition of an "unworthy". :-)

thirtiesgirl

Politics and the Presidential Election 2012

The truth?  I hate politics.  I hate the whole political season.  I hate those cheesey "I approve this message" commercials.  An oxymoron, yes,  because I come from a very aggressively politically active family...whose activism grew out of an organic concern for the community.  I myself minored in political science and was the VP of my university's chapter of the NAACP...and in student government. And yes,  I've walked a picket line or two.  But POLITICS...I hate.  Let there be no mistake about it.  This presidential election, like all the others before it, is POLITICS AS USUAL...a popularity contest....with higher stakes.  No different than running for homecoming king or queen in high school.  I hated those contests too.

 

With that being said, this is about the time I force myself to get tuned in. Yes, I watched the debate. We are speeding toward election day...thank God the manipulation is almost over!   And I'm a good tax paying citizen so I will have my say.  It's a point of personal integrity to vote...in at least the major elections.  

 

I remember as a teenager, watching the documentary "Eyes on the Prize" about the civil rights movement...angry tears streamed down my face as I witnessed how black folks (and some righteous white folks) suffered and died so that WE could have the right to vote.  How dare I NOT!?! How dare YOU!?! But don't anyone make the mistake of trying to influence WHO I should vote for.  To me, my vote is sacred...and personal.  IT'S MY DECISION.  It's just like a marriage....I'm committing to the candidate of MY CHOICE.  Only difference is I know for sure it won't last forever....  

 

bite of the day ~ Voting is a responsibility.  Register.  Get the facts.  Make YOUR own decision.  And keep it to yourself.  Let others use their own brains and choose without your influence. 

thirtiesgirl

Let's Talk About Sex! Part 1

I remember the first time my "lady parts" were ever touched by a man....well, a boy, actually.  Sophomore in high school.  Virgin...of the 5-year-old variety.  Crowded hallway between classes. Star athlete walking my way. And BAM!  Or more like 2 finger SWIPE right down the middle of my gina-girl.  SHOCK. EMBARRASSMENT.  Disgust.  Little more shock.  curiosity.  hmmm.

Now I had confessed my undying love, loyalty and obedience to Jesus at about 7 years old.  This included, as was burned into my soul at church, sexual purity or holding on to your "goodies" until marriage.  So I committed myself to doing just that.  In my effort to hold on to said goodies, I delved rather deeply into a fantasy world where I could literally do anything I wanted...without restriction.  At the time, I had no idea about the power of thoughts....you know, the whole concept of "Free Your Mind and Yo A** Will Follow".  You will go in the direction of your most dominant thought.  As a man thinketh, so is he...etc etc etc.

Well, my mind was on SEX....which made my whole quest to retain my virginity that much more challenging.  By the time I got to college and fell in love for the first time, curiosity was ready to kill "the cat".  But my faith and my vow to God was much stronger (praise da lawd!) and by the time I walked down the aisle at the tender age of 28, I was still a virgin....not quite of the 5-year-old-variety anymore, mind you.  I barely made it.  BUT I made it. Whew.  Needless to say, expectations for married life were in the stratosphere!  Sweet FREEDOM! YAY. sigh.

Fast forward to my present state of single again, no longer a virgin of any variety...and in the healing state from heartbreak.  It would be so darn  easy to just go "get some".  I have been tempted....many times in the past two years.    Yes...it's been TWO YEARS...and I have my raging hormones moments quite often.  Trust. But  I realize I am, yet again, at a crossroads.  I can dust off my hands and say "I'm done!  I played the goody role all my life.  I waited for marriage and the s**t didn't work.  I still ended up divorced just like everybody else that's divorced.  I'm done GOD! If I want to HAVE a man...I'm gonna have him."

Only problem is....while I'm having him, he's having ME.  Sigh.

bite of the day ~ Problem with giving ME away....Sex Talk Part 2. :-)

thirtiesgirl

Gabby Douglas & the Nappy Weave

I'll admit...I noticed.  Any black woman that's been a black girl noticed.  Cause hair is a BIG part of our identity.  But Good God!  To make an issue about this child's hair to the point that actual articles are being written on major websites about the overdone weave and "hair hatin'"....shame!

I noticed, then I shrugged it off to HARD TIMES.  Obviously.  I mean, getting a fresh do was not a priority for her or her family.  She was too busy preparing to become the first African-American female to win team & individual GOLD at the Olympics.  And I guess her mama was too busy um.....paying BILLS!  Sigh.  So she did the best she could....with a truckload of gel.  Trust me, I've been there. 

I had become used to getting my hair done every two weeks after I transitioned from the curl (it was cute and wavy NOT the drip drip kind!...) to the relaxer.  That is until I went to college and my mother moved back to Chicago.    My every two week ritual was no longer a priority to my family. I was BROKE. So broke that one Easter, I couldn't bear the thought of NOT having my hair done so I scraped up a few dollars, bought a box perm, and went to my grandmother's house in the country to apply the chemicals like I THOUGHT I had seen the professionals do so many times.  How hard could it be??? Sigh.   Let's just say that was the first...and the last time I've relaxed my own hair.  I had so much new growth still after the application...my hair was looking just like Gabby's.  Sitting fat on top of my head.  Thank God it didn't fall out!  Immediate tears.

Anyway, it's mainly black folks talking about her.  I bet it's been discussed on Tom Joyner & Steve Harvey...I'm not positive because I don't listen to all that foolishness first thing in the morning.  But I just know how WE do.  Cracking jokes.  Scorin'. Jesting.  And just plain tearing each other down in the name of "I jus playin'" and a laugh.  That's why so many of us are walking around with complexes  and self-image issues now!  My people.  Sigh.

bite of the day ~ Folks will praise you one minute, and tear you down the next.  Best thing to do is not let either go to your head or your heart.  Do you Gabby!

thirtiesgirl

my my my....Youthworld

So I decided to listen to the playlist radio for New Edition on Spotify while I went through my tedious hair washing routine...which unfortunately, I didn't start until after 10:30pm.  Great music always helps. :-)

Of course the station played what are now considered my generation's version of oldies....90s hits from not only New Edition but BBD, Xscape, Al B. Sure, Jodeci...you get the point.  My My My by Johnny Gill came on probably during the conditioning of my second section of thick not-too-tangled-this-time hair.

MY MY MY by Johnny Gill

http://youtu.be/Var4AQWRL2o

Of course, a flood of memories from that time hit me and I thought about my old youth group at church.  My mother took my brother and I to Faithworld, a nondenominational church in Dallas...Oak Cliff to be exact, when I was about 11 years old.  We stayed there until she moved back to Chicago my freshmen year in college.  Needless to say, me and my youth group...which was proudly known as Youthworld, went through every type of growing pain, life lesson & teenage experience you can think of....together.

The summers were always....interesting to say the least.  Without the distraction of school, there was plenty of time for bonding over the soundtrack of crushes, breakups, make-ups, rivalries and other foolishness.  By sheer will of our parents, volunteers and youth pastors, there was SOME focus on God, Jesus, the Bible and the like.

We would go to a Christian summer camp practically every year.  Ahhhh...more opportunity for theatrics....and you know when the parents are away, the children will PLAY. lol.  Anyway, I remember at one such camp, after dinner and church services with its demonstrations of tongues, holiness and the like....a group of us found ourselves chillin' in a circle outside the bunks singing, of all things, Johnny Gill's My My My. When we came to "....and you're soooo damn fine", Marqui paused and said "Can I say it?" We were like "yeah!".  And she did, a little low....feeling mischievous.  But we all knew that any other time we would be singing "....and you're soooo DAMN fine" just as bold as Johnny did. Good times. lol

Now, we've all pretty much gone our separate ways.  Life has been hard for some and easier for others.  Life is over for a few of us.  (RIP Cynthia.  RIP Robert J.) But wherever life has taken us, we will always be Youthworld.  To my brothers & sisters, whether I ever see your face on this side again, know this....the love is deep and the memories will never be forgotten.  Even the unmentionables.  For those who know..... :-)

bite of the day ~ We shouldn't live in the past, but remembering what you've been through and who you've been through it with can help to strengthen you for the journey ahead.

thirtiesgirl

Overwhelmed? SKIP.

See...this is why I am abnormal..."special"...half-crazy.  I was raised by a abnormalspecialhalf-crazy...mother.   Seriously.

Case in point.

The other day, I was doing my usual routine of eyesbrowslipsBible during my quiet train ride to work.  It was quiet because 1) no crazies happened to be acting out that morning 2) mostly everyone else's heads were buried in an e-device of some sort  3) the general unspoken phrase "I hate my job" was hanging in the air.  Suddenly, my boring, (I'm told) ring tone pierces the silence.  It was my mother.  I immediately think "Oh Lord.  What now?" because an early morn weekday call is not her usual.  The convo went something like:

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:

 (brightly)

Good Morning My Dearest Darling Daughter....(lol...no, really...she LAUGHED OUT LOUD).

me:

(trying not to talk too loud so sounding dry)

Good Morning...

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:

(still bright)

 Ok...I called your brother with this dare so I'm posing the same dare to you...

me:

(confused & a little frightened)

Okkkkkk.......

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:

 (even brighter)

When you get off the train, I dare you to SKIP...even if it's just a few skips to the elevator or anything.  But sometime today, you must skip.  I double dare you. (another LOL)

me:

(still confused & less frightened)

um....well, I have on slide-ins so I'm not about to do it when I get off the train and bust my behind but...um, okkkk.

abnormalspecialhalf-crazy mother:

Me and Mani (my brother) were talking about how this life has made him so heavy (emotionally/spiritually)....so that's why I'm daring you to skip.  Sometimes, I just skip.  Shoot.

And she does.  (She did it the other day the moment I let her into my apartment.)  After I hung up, I sighed out loud.  My mother and her antics. Doesn't she know I'm thinking about work&bills&divorce&future&mypurpose&theElection&gaymarriage&gunviolence&....Sigh.  I don't have time for these childish games. BUT because I'm a good daughter...and don't ignore dares....I got to the bottom of the train station stairs, went through the turnstile and SKIPPED to the street. Yes, in slide-ins and all.  Which in turn made me laugh slightly out loud and smile for the remainder of my walk to work, thinking about the ridiculousness of it all.  My mother.  Gotta love her.

But you know what?  I felt....lighter.  More carefree.  I guess the 60-year-old skipper does know a little something. :-)

bite of the day ~ Be child-like.  It works.


thirtiesgirl