Memories, Memories, Memories

I’m sure that any folks who come across my blog and read my work is probably thinking “Man she morbid as hell!” And I don’t mean to be but so much has happened to me in such a short time. Loss of loved ones, health issues, all kinds of shit. But someway, somehow, I manage to persevere. The way I go about it might be puzzling to some but it makes perfect sense to me.

American culture shames people for having emotions outside of being constantly happy all the time. Even through times of immense grief, people are expected to put on their best faces and pretend that they aren’t hurting in order to not offend anyone. How selfish and inane is that mentality. How cruel and heartless. And utterly American.

So as I dwell in the valley of the emotion called grief, I’ve decided that the best way to deal with it is facing it squarely in the face. I look at pictures of my lost ones, laughing on some days and on other days crying. But I have to see their faces so I refuse to stop.

I’ve started a collection of pictures on my Facebook page called “Blackness Personified” and it’s filled with pictures of Black people from various decades. Some of the pictures are of celebrities and some of the pictures of regular Black folks. I chose those pictures because they reminded me of simpler times, when I was a little girl and my family was still alive.

I reread books that I read when I was a much younger woman and marvel at how much I’ve grown as an individual. Certain passages in those books I didn’t get in 1989 I understand totally now in 2021.

I talk to my ancestors too. I’m not a religious person. I’m downright heathenish for the most part but I do believe in the power of the ancestors and that they watch over us from wherever they happen to be.

I talk about them constantly because I have to keep them alive, if not in body but spirit because if I don’t, they will truly be dead and I cannot face that. It’s enough that I will never be able to see them again in the physical but to pretend that they never existed just because they died is beyond cruel: it’s sick.

So I will continue to tell their stories. Like the time my mother and I beat up my older brother because he was drunk and ignorant and we had to let him know the true power of Black Girl Magic by whupping on that ass. My memories is all I have left of them and I will continue to tell their stories. And when I become an ancestor, my children will do the same for me. Or I will haunt their asses.

Aliens and Why They Ain’t Fucking With Earthlings

I’ve always believed that life exists outside of our universe but they don’t want to be bothered with humans because for the most part, humans are stupid. And any form with any common sense and intelligence will ride right past the planet Earth and keep moving. Below are the three reasons why.

1. Humans don’t read. Daily, humanity shows how uneducated and ignorant they are by posting misspelled words and barely coherent sentences on various social media platforms. Some are actually having debates about whether the Earth is flat or round in 2021.

2. Humans are gullible. The rise of former President Trump and various other demagogues proved that the vast majority of individuals in this society are followers who will listen to any slick talking shyster in a suit who appeals to their baser instincts. Especially those folks who need to feel superior to others because instinctively, they know that they ain’t shit.

And number 3. Humans really aren’t likable. They are some mean spirited creatures who get immense joy in the suffering of others. They beat children and torture animals. They believe that spousal abuse is acceptable in some cases, especially if the victim is a woman. They justify the sexual abuse of children if the perpetrator is famous and wealthy. And for some reason, they believe that poor people are the scourge of society although they are literally one paycheck from being in the welfare line themselves. If you don’t believe me, just take a cruise in these social media streets and see the trash, I mean people regurgitating some of the most ignorant rhetoric ever. Straight gutter and proud of it. And have the audacity to think that they are exceptional. Shid……

‘Merica☠️☠️☠️

Happy Sunday Everyone

Just a little note to tell everybody to embrace happiness this week. It’s become quite popular to be unhappy and wallow in misery all the time, but that’s not normal boos. Life ain’t easy and it’s going to be some rough patches. You’re going to experience the deaths of people you love, job and money losses, relationships that end but that’s life. And life is not a fairytale. So be grateful that you woke up this morning and pray that you wake up tomorrow. Because it’s not guaranteed.

Getting Diagnosed With Epilepsy When You Are Old as Dirt

Me in the hospital back in 2019

December 16, 2019 was a perfectly ordinary day for me. I got up, washed my ass, painted my face and went to work. When I got off, I went to Target to pick up the set of Lincoln Logs I had ordered for my grandson for Christmas and purchased some other stuff because women are gatherers by nature and I couldn’t resist. Then I went home, cooked chicken tacos, talked shit with my children, and went to bed. But little did I know that in less than 30 minutes, my life as I knew it would change forever.

I had a seizure during those 30 minutes and when I came to after the seizure, my house was in chaos. My babies were crying, ambulance attendants everywhere, & Diddy (my cat) was hiding under the bed. I barely knew my name and didn’t have a clue about anything. I was rushed immediately to the hospital where I spent two days receiving a battery of tests on my brain. All the CT and MRI scans came back normal so I was released and told to rest. I went back to work after a few days and continued to live my perfectly ordinary existence.

I thought everything was fine until October 17, 2020. Once again it was a perfectly ordinary day. It was a Saturday and I decided to make some beef stew for dinner. I was missing several key ingredients so I went to the Walmart down the street from my house. I purchased my items and remember standing outside waiting for an Uber and then nothing until waking up in an ambulance on my way to the University of Chicago Hospital. I had another seizure and if it wasn’t for the kindness of strangers, lord knows what would have happened to me. I still had my purse, wallet and cell phone although I believe if it happened now, I would have woken up with nothing because people are extra grimy these days but I’m digressing so let me chill.

When I awakened from this seizure, I was scared as hell and started wilding out, trying to fight the ambulance attendants and one of these dudes referred to me as “combative.” Wouldn’t you be combative if you woke up clueless and didn’t even know what year it was because you had a grand mal seizure? Sorry motherfucker.

But when I got to the hospital, everyone else were empathetic. I was eventually admitted and diagnosed with epilepsy a month before my 50th birthday. I’m a special individual: first seizure a month after my 49th birthday and then diagnosed with epilepsy a month before the big 50☠️.

Since then, I have had two seizures, the next one on November 14, 2020 and the last one March 1, 2021. I’m currently taking 3000mg of levetiracetam which is the highest dosage recommended for this medication and it’s working because I haven’t had a seizure in almost a year but the side effects are something else.

Constantly tired, broken down and worn out. If I go to the grocery store, I feel like I’ve worked a full day of work. I’ve left two jobs this year because of the side effects of this necessary evil I need for my body and is currently trying to wrap my mind around the possibility that working a regular, on-site job might not be an option for me anymore. But I refuse to believe that. I’m only 51 years old and I know some younger folks believe that I have one foot in the graveyard but 51 isn’t old by a long shot.

I still have plenty of time left on this planet. I’m going to work on getting this fat off my ass, become more mobile and live my life. Epilepsy is not going to ruin my possibilities of which there are many. I’m going to keep striving and living because I have so much to live for. My children. My grandson and my new grand baby who’s due in the spring. My friends and other family members. My funky ass cat who works my nerves but I love to pieces. And myself because I want to be an old lady with snow white locs with a hand carved cane in the shape of a cat at the top. Telling people to get the fuck off lawn and still giggling madly at silly shit. The last two years of my life have been filled with so much turmoil, grief and anxiety but I’m still here to tell my story. And I’m grateful.

Remembering bell hooks

I didn’t discover bell hooks until I went to college in 2002. I majored in sociology and minored in history. Took two Women and Gender courses and it was then I was introduced to her works. And my life changed.

Her writings made me think deeply and I learned to fight for myself as a Black woman living in a white patriarchal society that despises all women but has placed the Black woman on a special rung in hell. Learned to fight for my dignity and autonomy in system that wasn’t set up for my advancement but my demise.

And as I’m getting older, due to her works, I have learned to have grace for others who weren’t as fortunate as me to have access to her writings and the writings of Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Assata Shakur and others. Black writers who reveled in their Blackness and wasn’t afraid to show it. Ignorance is cultivated in American culture these days so some people are doomed and all you can do is pity them and move on.

So Rest in Power bell hooks. Although you are no longer here in form, your works will continue to educate and transform, encouraging folks to improve their lives and elevate their minds. Folks like me.

Words that every woman needs to chant to herself

Tales of the Bodacious Boobs

Boobs

Ever since I graduated from college with a Bachelors degree in sociology 15 years ago, I have formulated several theories of my own about current American society. My main theory: most individuals in current American society have been driven insane from all the rules and expectations that are placed upon individuals. Women in particular have faced intense pressure trying to live up to the tired, white male patriarchal standard of beauty that has been in vogue for centuries. In order to be considered beautiful, a woman must be preferably white, young, tall, blond, blue-eyed, thin and large breasted. Very large breasted. If a woman does not possess these attributes, she is considered an ugly spinster who is unworthy of notice.

Because of this standard of beauty, women have a tendency to be spiteful towards women who have large breasts and I should know because I have large breasts. I have had breasts since I was nine years old and I am 51. It always amazes me because I am not young or thin but ever since I could remember, women have looked at me with envy and sometimes hatred because of my breast size and I am not exaggerating. There have been times I have walked down the street and noticed women placing their arms across their chests as if to ward off the evilness of my large breasts. Crazy.

A film I watched several years ago, Busting Out, discusses this madness with an eloquence that is both funny and sad. The narrator and filmmaker, Francine Strickwerda lost her mother to breast cancer as a child, was the first in her class to develop breasts and she has been haunted by “the boobs of doom” ever since. This film tells the story of how breasts are portrayed in our society and how men and women think of them. In American society, people are taught that breasts are for sexual pleasure, whereas in other cultures, the breast is not important. Many stereotypes about having large breasts exist such as being considered “easy” or “dumb.” These stereotypes are completely ridiculous because I know some small-breasted promiscuous women and there is no known correlation between intelligence and breast size.

Decades ago in China, mothers would bind the bottom of their daughters heels and toes so their feet would be only 3 inches long because that men had a fetish for small feet and pleasing men is everything, even at the risk of being crippled for life. In American society, lingerie is marketed towards little girls as young as three years old. At one time, Bratz dolls were very popular in American culture and they wore skimpy clothes, and had large heads and prominent boobs. These dolls actually outsold old fashioned Barbie dolls but Bratz have disappeared and Barbie is still reigning supreme.

This obsession with breasts has put American women in a catch-22 situation: those with large breasts have to deal with the stereotypes and women without large breasts feel like they have to resort to drastic measures such a surgical breast enhancement in order to feel “normal.” It seems to me that women are damned if they have them, damned if they do not.

This movie was very interesting, not just because I am a woman with large breasts but because it showcases how juvenile and archaic American society is when it comes to its obsession with women’s breasts. The thing I found most pathetic was the radio show hosted by Tom Leykis, who proclaimed Fridays as “Flash Fridays” and women are encouraged to flash any and all their breasts. Any woman so desperate for attention that she will put her naked breasts outside a car window needs to be locked up for insanity, not indecent exposure.

Overall, I feel that current society’s obsession with women’s’ breasts is ridiculous. Breasts are used to sell anything and everything including cars, cigarettes and many other things. They are seen as objects that men can fondle and suckle and have no other use. Forget about the newborn babies; it is all about men’s pleasure. Lawd these folks are unhappy.

The Real Reason Why Men Hate & Fear Perfectly Content Single Women

Single Women Dancing With Pride

Men lose their minds at thought of a woman perfectly content with her own company. Because that means that they can’t hold a relationship and a possible marriage over her head along with a passel of brats.

They can’t constantly chant “that’s why you’re single!” to a woman who truly doesn’t give a fuck. Those types of scare tactics doesn’t work on a woman who’s secure in herself and knows that her womanhood doesn’t hinge upon saddling herself with a man not worth two dead flies and children with his fucked up DNA.

For centuries, women have been socialized to believe that their only purpose in life is to get married and spit out the next generation of dysfunctional, unhappy people but after three waves of feminism, women have been taking off the patriarchal blinders and seeing American culture for what it is: a system that hates women and children so many are opting out.

A culture that respected and revered women and children would make it easier for them to exist. It would have a better healthcare system so that women wouldn’t be still dying in childbirth in the year 2021.

A culture that respected and revered women and children would have a national and generous maternity leave for expectant mothers that would allow them to rest and bond with their babies.

A culture that respected and revered women and children would have a nationally funded childcare program in which families wouldn’t be charged college tuition for daycare.

And most importantly, a culture that respected and revered women and children wouldn’t be still trying to force women into having children that they do not want. It’s almost 2022 and certain states in this country are trying to reverse Roe versus Wade, Supreme Court decision that gave women the right to abortion. It’s mind boggling that women who live in a supposedly enlightened, so called superior country are still fighting for autonomy over their own bodies.

So that’s why men fear and despise a happy single woman. They know that these women are free and can’t be subjugated into taking on trash so they try through violence or legislation to keep them in their place as walking wombs.

A Short Silly Post About a Nasty Ass Bubble

The Dirty Bubble🤣🤣🤣🤣

I’m a big fan of the cartoon “SpongeBob SquarePants” and one of my favorite characters is The Dirty Bubble. He’s a villain on SpongeBob’s favorite cartoon show and he’s a nasty fucker as you can see from the picture above. The very name of this character makes me dissolve into laughter and lets me know that despite of my 51 years, I’m still a silly little girl at heart. Imagine being a villain because you refuse to wash your ass. Hell it’s a lot of Dirty Bubbles walking around in Chicago 😃😃😃😃😃

My Favorite Authors & Their Books

Books Are Fabulous!!!!

I’ve been reading books since I was a little girl. Before I was born, my mother had purchased a set of encyclopedias for my brothers that they never touched according to her. So they sat, unused and collecting dust until I was born.

Book of Knowledge Encyclopedias

Now I wasn’t born a genius and started reading at five months old but I was totally fascinated by those books. I would draw and scribble scrabble in the encyclopedias but when I finally learned how to read and comprehend, they became my friends,

My favorite two encyclopedias were the letter C and F. C because of the article on the cat species and F because of the article on the First Ladies. I love cats and I will always remember the first words of the article on cats: “cats remember those who were good to them and they remember those who were not.” Or something like that because it’s been over 30 years since I actually saw this passage and I’m not a spring chicken at all.

The article on the First Ladies was intriguing to me too because the set my mother owned was published when Lyndon B. Johnson was president so the article only discussed the ladies up until his presidency and she was the last one. Miss Lady Bird was her nickname and I thought that was so cool.

That set of encyclopedias purchased by my mother for my older brothers set off a thirst for knowledge that I’ve been trying to appease for almost 40 years and I’ve come to the realization that I will be always be searching for answers. Which is not a problem in a culture where the vast majority of people are dumb as a box of hair.

But I’m digressing as usual and let’s talk about my favorite books. Realistically, it’s too many to list because I will be writing until Juvember but what I’m going to do is list some of my favorite authors along with the books that they wrote that touched my soul.

These authors and their books aren’t going to be listed categorically but from memory because my mind is like a noodle these days and I will periodically update this blog when I think of more authors who impacted my life.

Margaret Mitchell and her novel Gone With the Wind. I read this book for the first time back in 1981 when I was almost 11 years old and it changed my life and taught me a lot about the Southern states. They ain’t going to change y’all.

Rhett Butler

Jackie Collins and all her books about the lives of the rich and famous. One of her most infamous characters is Lucky Santangelo, the daughter of a gangster and a bad ass chick in her own right.

Bertrice Small and all her romance novels, especially the World of Hetar series which is foreshadowing of what’s going to happen in this country if women don’t get off their asses and rebel.

All the celebrity biographies written by Kitty Kelley except the one about the Bush family because it’s dull as hell. But the books about Elizabeth Taylor, Jacqueline Kennedy, Frank Sinatra, Nancy Reagan, Oprah and House of Windsor?? Fire!!!

And lastly for now, all the books written by Candace Bushnell, including Sex and the City which was turned into a television series on HBO and became a cultural phenomenon. Any writer who can come up with a character name “Lord Skanky-Poo” is alright with me.

Carrie and Friends

A Village Without Love

There has been an ongoing war between the sexes in the Black community for decades and it is time for it to end because it is pathetic and the only people hurting are the children. 70% of Black children reside in a single parent household; usually the mother and Black children are highly over represented in the foster care system.  Black children are only 14% of the American population, but are in the foster care at the rate of 23% and that is a damn shame.

Some folks are so busy arguing amongst themselves about who is more trifling, Black men or Black women that they have absolved ourselves of all parental and community responsibility.  No one wants to look in the mirror and change themselves but would rather sit back and blame each other while making a slew of babies that will grow up confused and fucked up. Ladies its too much birth control out here to be having children you do not want to be bothered with. Motherhood is a tour of duty that never ends and if you really don’t want to be bothered with responsibility of children, don’t have any. Stop letting these dudes whisper sweet nothings in your ear when that coochie is on fire, trying put stupid shit in your heads about having babies but ain’t said shit about marriage.

And men, I have not forgotten about y’all: if you do not want children, strap your boy up or get a vasectomy. Any man who is stupid enough to put the fate of his unborn children in the hands of a possibly unstable and vindictive woman deserves to have the child support system hounding his dumb ass for the rest of his life.

In past five years, there has been a big movement online, encouraging Black women to date outside their race and it has been fascinating to read the comments from some Black women on various websites as to why they have decided to date interracially. Because ironically, they sound just like some of these Black dudes when they give their reasons for not dating within their race but I ain’t the one to gossip so you didn’t hear that from me. American culture is a patriarchal one in which all men, regardless of their race or ethnicity, has been socialized to believe that they are superior to women. So if a Black woman thinks she will be escape patriarchy by turning to another race, she needs a reality check. The same premise goes for those Black men who told themselves that if they get a White woman, they will be as good as the White man and history has shown that premise to be a complete and utter lie.

Stereotypes about Black men and women that were originally created by the dominant culture are now running amok and being perpetrated by Black people themselves. The community is on the edge of a precipice but instead of coming up with feasible solutions to the problems of a poor educational system, poverty, lack of economic opportunities in blighted areas, and the high murder rate in inner-city neighborhoods, some of us would rather discuss the lives of celebrities who wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire.

All these stereotypes do is keep Black folks at each other’s throats and Black communities throughout America are on fire as a direct result. It takes a village to raise a child and what happens when the village is at war with each other? A generation of angry children without love and compassion, hence the state of current Black America.