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Showing posts from 2009

Random Thoughts...

I started writing this blog so that I could say what I needed to say. I wanted a way to get thoughts, feelings, and observations out without having to quantify or qualify them. It was basically a way for me to talk to myself without looking crazy. Now that I've publicized it to several friends, I feel like I have to censor myself. While some of my other bloggers want people to read their stuff, that was never the goal for me. At least not at first. Anyway...I said all that to say that there are things that I need to say because they're weighing on my heart. In no particular order... 1. Mr. Wonderful and I are going to Texas for Thanksgiving. I'd love to say that I'm excited, but I'm not. I'm freakin' terrified! My mom and my friends have never had to share me, and I don't know how they'll handle it. I'm especially concerned about my best friend. I've been his beard for as long as I can remember, and I just hope he'll be able to be happy f

My Take on Barack's Nobel Peace Prize

I'm a little late on commenting on President Barack Obama's Nobel Peace Prize win, but I'll add my two cents to the continuing conversation... Yay for him! We've been under the cloud of a war-mongering president for eight years, and it's nice for the president of the United States of America to be recognized for peace. Anyone who thinks otherwise is crazy. Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...
I was listening to Lauryn Hill's Ex-Factor , and I was struck by was the poignancy of the lyrics: It could all be so simple, But you'd rather make it hard. Loving you is like a battle, And we both end up with scars. I started thinking about the scars we carry from relationships. My girlfriends and I have had our hearts broken, but we still try again. I've always thought we're just resilient that way. Meanwhile, the guys that get their hearts broken usually seem to live by the adage, "The best way to get over an old love is to get under a new one." As I listened to the urgency in Lauryn's delivery and reflected on the ultimate destruction of her career -- thanks to her alleged relationship with Wyclef -- I had to revisit my original thoughts. I've had my share of heartaches, but I haven't been destroyed. The closest I've come was with the ex in New York . However, I'm giving more to Mr. Wonderful than I've ever given, and my heart is a l
Here's what's going through my mind... I can't do this anymore. I can't live out of bags, and I can't be a burden to anyone. All I want to do is be myself again. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that here in California. This is the one place I hate. Even though the weather is great, I hate every other thing about this place. I don't like how I've had to live here. My nails are raggedy. My hair is horrid. My weight is out of control. And my heart is heavy. I've never felt so low, so completely out of control and out of sync with what I know to be good and true in all my life. I wish there was someone to blame, but I don't know who that person could possibly be. I didn't have a full-time job before Granny died, but now it's just getting ridiculous... And then, I get hungry. And as I look for something to eat, Mr. Wonderful says, "I was just about to pop you some popcorn." I love you works for some girls, but the wa
It's when things aren't going well that I miss her the most. It's these times when I'd like to climb up in bed next to her and cry on her shoulder. I wanna tell her how much my heart hurts, but I can't. She's gone, and I'm left to my own devices. At this point, I'm tired. I wanna go home, but there's no home to go to. If I leave California and go to Texas, I won't have a job. If I go to New York, I won't have a place to live. In addition, I won't have enough money to make it. So I'm stuck here on the West Coast -- my very own sunny version of Hell. Now here's the funny part. Just writing those feelings down, seeing them on paper, makes me feel better. I know things could be worse. One of my good friends is sleeping in her car. Her stuff is in storage, and she's been making her Honda her home. I'm blessed that I have Mr. Wonderful, but I'm not convinced that this is the best thing for me. It's one thing to be alone
I hate being level-headed. You know how people love to say, "Let cooler heads prevail?" I'm usually that one. Before I blow up and lose my cool, I try to look at a situation from all angles. After all, most people aren't trying to intentionally hurt you, right? So I'm the one who analyzes a situation to death before burying my anger. And every time I do it, a part of me dies. I do it with my mom, my brother, and now that it's time to do it for Mr. Wonderful, I'm tired. Let me explain... Mr. Wonderful is going through a lot right now. In addition to be almost out of work, he's lost his dad this month. Now his daughter is getting ready to make him a grandfather. We all know that any one of those situations has the power to make a grown man cry, and all of them together can be devastating. Trust me, I get that. However, I have needs that must be attended to. While he's going through this stuff, his physical interest in me hasn't been w

On Healthcare and Racism

I have tried not to comment on what I've seen happening to our country's health care debate. I've sat by and watched our Republican brothers and sisters treat our president like he's a homie in the 'hood with their disrespect. I have done all I can do to not weigh in, but the time has come when I can no longer stay silent. No matter how you feel about President Obama's plan to reform health care, it's no question that reform is needed. I don't have health care because the company I work for doesn't offer it to its part-time employees. I'm thankful that I'm fairly healthy. If I weren't, I'd be in trouble. I know a guy who can't get insurance because the transplants he had to cure his diabetes put in the pre-existing condition category. He recently had to sell some of his property to have a procedure done on his foot. I could go on and on, but you get the idea. I don't understand why it's such a big deal to have a government

My Tribute to Ted Kennedy

My grandmother used to tell us that if there was rain on the day of your burial, it meant that the deceased wasn't a righteous person. As I watch the funeral mass of Senator Edward M. Kennedy, who succumbed to brain cancer earlier this week, I'm struck by that fact. Since I cannot claim to be a political person by nature, I'm not extremely familiar with the particulars of Teddy's career. However, I know that he's been instrumental in much of the legislation that affords me the opportunity to live the way I want to. Most importantly, I recognize his passing as the ending of an era in American politics. What has struck me most about the life and times of Senator Kennedy was no matter how privileged he was, he never forgot about the least of us. He and his family lived, breathed, and in many cases died, in public service. He wanted all of us to have equal access to everything this great nation has to offer. I'm also moved by the great tragedies that this family has

Oh My....

After many weeks of living in an imagined bliss with Mr. Wonderful, I have returned to my apartment. I'm only here to pack my things so I can be out by the end of the month. This is what I have to do, and I'm okay with it. I'm not okay with moving in with him on a permanent basis. Even though he asked me to move in, I can tell it's not something he really wants. He's only being nice, but I have no where else to go. And on top of that, he's losing his job. That means that he and I will be in the same unemployed boat. Because he's a true man, he'll do everything he can to help me -- even if it means sacrificing himself. I can't have that. I don't like feeling like a burden, and I don't want to be where I'm not really wanted. What shall I do...

Some Kinda Feeling

I'm feeling some kinda way, but I can't put my finger on it. Michael Jackson is dead, and a part of my childhood died, too...but that's not it. He wasn't my cousin, and I'll get over it. I'm thinking of Granny more. She, too, was an integral part of my childhood -- my life, even -- and Michael's death makes Granny's just a little fresher. Plus, I recently had a conversation with my favorite uncle. I always love talking to him, but because he lived with Granny and took care of her, I'm reminded again that Granny is gone when I speak to him. When does the pain of the loss go away? You can move on and get past it, but it seems to catch up with you when you least expect it. Add to the mix that my life is in turmoil right now because, ladies and gentlemen, I have to move again. For those of you keeping score, this will make the third move in less than three years. And since I haven't been able to find a gig to supplement my meager pittance from my par

An Open Letter to the Media

Dear Media, I'm completely vexed with your coverage of Michael Jackson. Don't get me wrong, I understand that the King of Pop was a person of interest whose every move was scrutinized both in life and now in death. I get that his very existence is going to be picked apart and exposed for all the world to see. After all, this is the information age, and that's how we do it. However, I would implore you to remember that for all Jackson was or was not, he was still a human being. Even though he had millions of dollars, he still had to put on his clothes like everyone else. He cracked jokes, played with his kids, and loved his mother. His family and his friends loved him before he was ever moonwalked across a stage. And they're hurting right now. As Janet put it on the BET Awards, "To you he was an icon, but to us, he was family." How would you feel if every bad thing your brother had done was on the front page of every newspaper? As a mother, could you really han

The End of an Era

You know, I'm not one of those people who gets bugged out by celebrities. After all, I've worked in the entertainment industry most of my adult life. Even though I haven't everyone I'd like to yet, I've been fortunate enough to meet some of the ones who've gone on before -- Luther Vandross, Gerald Levert, Aaliyah, to name a few. Unfortunately for me, that list does not include Michael Jackson. And now, thanks to his untimely death at the tender age of 50, I never will. I am so hurt by Michael's death, and I couldn't figure out why. Then I started reminiscing about my first encounters with his music... Because my mother wasn't a fan of the Jackson 5 -- don't ask me why -- their music wasn't in my house. Marvin Gaye, yes. Curtis Mayfield, yes. The O'Jays, The Spinners, Gladys Knight & The Pips? Yes, yes, yes. We even had Natalie Cole and The Emotions. But no Jackson 5. When I was in the third grade, my teacher, Mrs. Heldt, would let us

May 9, 2009

I'm upset with myself right now. I never thought things would get this bad, but they have. I've come to a point where I really don't know what I'm going to do about my bills. Let me back up for those of you who really don't know. My career has taken some interesting turns since I've been in California -- mostly for the bad. Most recently, I was forced to leave the job I had teaching radio to children because they wanted to drop me down from 25 hours a week to 12. Since I lived a good 45 minutes from the job, it wasn't cost-effective for me to make the drive. For the majority of 2009, I've been surviving on one part-time paycheck. Unfortunately, ALL of my bills are full-time. That has put me in a crazy bind because I really don't have anyone to depend on. When I was in NYC, my family depended on me for any extras. Now that I don't have anything, I'm pretty much on my own. Thankfully, Mr. Wonderful has been in my corner, and he's as helpful

He Finally Said It...

We had just picked up our dinner. As I was unpacking everything to see if it was all in place, I noticed something missing. I turned to him and said, "Babe, I think they forgot your dressing." He wasn't phased at all, saying, "Oh, they probably put it on the salad." Sure enough, upon further examination, it was. I put on my tough-girl persona and playfully told him that I'd go up there and rough 'em up if they'd messed up his food. He laughed and said, "I love you!" To say I was outdone would be an understatement. Here we are playing around, and he says the three most important words in the English language. Since I wasn't sure if he was being serious, I just decided to be cool about it. I gave him a hug, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "I love you, too." Now I'm wondering if I handled it the right way. What if he really was just playing? Then I've shown my hand. If he was serious, I may have understated the moment

Uh Oh...

As I delve deeper and deeper into this thing called a relationship, I wonder what's supposed to happen. How does it progress from being a like thing to a love thing? When do you cross the line, and how can you tell? My guy and I have been going strong since the end of January, and I'm loving every minute of it. And trust me when I tell you, I don't quite know how to handle it. He's still just as kind, just as sweet, and just as considerate as he's always been. In fact, the longer we stay together, it seems like he improves every day. At this point, I don't know that there's anything he won't do to help me feel comfortable and cared for. That's not to say he's perfect by any stretch of the imagination. After all, he's human just like me. But his humanity is coexisting with mine in a way I never thought was possible. It's got me questioning that thing called forever. As in, 'Am I seeing a real possibility of forever in him?'

Part One of the "Wonderful" Saga

What can I say about my new Mr. Wonderful? He's the most awesome guy I've met in a long time. This man is everything I've ever needed but never thought I wanted. He's thoughtful, kind, considerate, and attentive without being overbearing. He makes me feel safe and cared-for and he treats me like a lady. The funny part is that I met him while on my way to see Mr. Wright back in January. I was at the airport waiting to check my bag. As I stood there, this guy bypassed all of us to check his luggage. I'm guessing he checked in at home and thought he could circumvent the line. As the clerk directed him to the end, I thought to myself, That's right! Who do YOU think YOU are, trying to get out of this torture! The man in front of me turned around, took one look at me, and laughed out loud. He said, "Man, Black women can't hide anything on their faces!" I was so caught off-guard that I immediately started giggling. The conversation was really

My Valentine's Post...on Delay

***Okay...I know that it's been well over a month since we celebrated Valentine's Day. However, I thought this post was worth sharing even now. Enjoy!*** Today is the day we celebrate love. Well, at least that's what all the diamond, greeting card, and chocolate pushers would like for us to believe. We get all geeked up to show everyone how much care for each other. My question is why? Maybe I'm crazy, but I'd much rather know that someone loved me on a day-to-day basis as opposed to having a dramatic show of unattainable affection one day out of the year. I just think that this day makes some single women think they're missing out on something wonderful. As for me, I'm finally happy with my life and who I am. If someone wants to love me, that's great. After all, I'm a really good idea. If they decide against loving me, I'm okay because I know it's not my fault.

Guess What?

I've met someone. He's not someone I'd normally date, but he's really something special. He's older than I am. There are more years between us than a few, but we're still able to relate to each other. I've never been with a man who makes feel as safe and cared for as this one. He opens doors for me. He makes room for me at his house and in his life. He includes me in his plans. And he thinks I'm beautiful. Will this romance last? I don't know. What I do know is that I'm enjoying him. And for now, that's all that matters...

A Year in Review

Today is the one-year anniversary of Granny's death. Even though I thought I'd be emotional, I'm really not. I still miss her. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that she won't come back. I'm still angry that she left me here. But at this moment, I'm okay. Of course, it hasn't been easy to get to this place. The last 366 days have been spent trying to learn how to negotiate a world that doesn't include my first friend and best magic. There are questions I'd love to ask her, but now I'll just have to rely on the knowledge she imparted to me while she was here. My heart still hurts when I see old women. Whether it's on television or out and about in public, the sight of them reminds me of my dear Granny. And if little children are in any way involved, it's almost too much for me to bear. It's not that it's particularly painful, but it just reminds me of what I've lost. And actually, that's not even an a

An Open Letter to You

Dear Readers, I don't know how many of you there are, but I want to apologize for leaving you hanging. If you're a reader of this blog, you're probably either a) in my close circle of friends or b) you discovered it on your own and you have no ties to me. Either way, I appreciate you more than you could ever know. You've given me the chance to air my frustrations and sort out my feelings without being judgemental. You've also allowed me to work out my writing style without having to take a class. I'm coming to you now because I've been neglectful. I've started a new, more public blog, and I haven't been posting here as much. MackDiva Does Hollywood expounds on my background as an entertainment reporter. I'm trying to keep it updated as much as possible so that my new readers can get acclimated to my writing style as well as using it as a go-to spot for certain kinds of stories. That doesn't mean that I won't come here to leave my personal

My Two-Cents on the Suleman Situation

Unless you've been under a rock, you've heard about the case of the 33-year-old California woman who just gave birth to octuplets. Not only is Nadya Suleman single and lives at home with her parents, she's also the mother of six other children. The recent birth brings her total to 14 children under the age of eight. At this point, the questions are flying around -- why would anyone with six kids allow herself to be implanted with eight embryos? What fertility doctor would allow a woman with six children to have eight embryos implanted? Investigations are currently underway, and I'm sure the media will keep us abreast of her every move from now until Jesus comes. While I personally think Ms. Suleman is insane, my problem with her is the same one I have with any single woman who chooses to become a mother without the benefit of a man. It's unfair to the child. Children deserve to have a mother AND a father. Now don't get me wrong. I know that women are capable of

Fat Tuesday Came Early for Lil Wayne

***Even though I usually leave the entertainment stuff to my girl, The CreaTiff One , I wanted to give my take on last night's festivities. Let me know what you think!*** If there's a recession going on, I couldn't tell at Lil Wayne's Pre-Grammy Awards Party Saturday night. The Mardi Gras-themed soiree was an exercise in decadence, to say the least. Cash Money Records held the red-carpet affair at The Montage, a swanky hotel in the heart of Beverly Hills. While publicists sent out releases to alert the media of a party, other details -- like location, time, etc. -- were kept tightly under wraps. And speaking of red carpets, the one at Weezy's party was the coolest I've ever seen. Instead of having it in front of the hotel, they held it in the underground parking garage. Girls dressed in full Mardi Gras regalia handed out beads to the guests as they checked in. Some of the celebs making their way down the carpet included Danity Kane's Dawn Richard, Akon, prod
I'm not a fan of resolutions, but I told myself -- in a low-key fashion -- that I was going to clear out the drafts in my list of posts. I started this one in July 2008. At the time, I wasn't able to share these thoughts because they were too personal. Enjoy! I recently had an interesting conversation with my boss. For those of you who don't know, I'm working with children for the first time in my life. Their idiosyncrasies are as interesting as they are infuriating, and dealing with them on a regular basis is testing the limits of everything I know to be right and good. Anyway, I was telling him about a particularly trying encounter I'd had with a group of teenage girls. They're not bad kids by any stretch of the imagination, however, I wasn't equipped to handle them. As any boss would, he said that I need to be ready for anything. When I reminded him that I'm still learning how to deal with the youngsters, he was like, "Well, you've been a kid

What's a Girl to Do?

Okay...I have something I need to get off my chest. For some reason, people -- especially men -- are constantly getting the wrong impression of me. While I normally don't really care what people say or think about me, it's becoming a problem as I try to navigate the unemployment waters. Case in point: I recently called a man I've known for a while because another friend of mine told me he had an opening. We spoke briefly, and he told me that his company had instituted a hiring freeze. That was cool, but then he said that he couldn't work with me anyway because, in his opinion, he'd never get anything done. Apparently I'd be too much of a distraction. I was a little taken aback. While he and I have flirted -- I thought harmlessly -- I've never done anything to make him think I toss my affections around. In other words, what makes him think that I would even entertain him in that way? When I brought that up to him, he immediately said that it wasn't me

DC vs. The DNC -- A Study in Contrasts

During this election season, I've been blessed to attend two very significant events -- the Democratic National Convention in Denver and the inauguration of President Barack Obama in Washington, DC. Both of these events were historical and emotional for me, and I was glad I attended both. However, there were stark differences between the two -- at least for me. Traveling companions I'm a firm believer that who you're with can make or break a trip. When I went to the DNC in Denver, I was with my new friends from California. Even though I'm usually not a fan of traveling with strangers, I really appreciated these women. They're a really great bunch, and we worked well together. We arrived on Tuesday and stayed until Friday. On the other hand, I wanted to experience the inauguration with folks who were more familiar to me. That's why I traveled to New York City to be with the girls and guys who have become my second family. We then took a bus to Washington, DC for

The Final Word on Mr. Wright

I've been trying to figure out why I was so willing to believe the line of jive that Mr. Wright was putting down. I'm an educated woman who's lived all across the country by myself, yet I listened to a man I already know isn't capable of either telling the truth or loving anyone but himself. If anyone else had told me that they were going through what I was going through, I would've called them crazy. Yet there I was, willing myself to believe something my heart knew couldn't possibly be true. What in the world is wrong with me? After turning the thought over and over in my mind -- and watching a back episode of Private Practice -- I've come the conclusion that I just don't want to end up alone. When I was growing up, my grandmother was friends with Ms. May. Ms. May went to our church and lived on our street. Unlike Granny, who'd raised five children, Ms. May didn't have any kids. As they got older, Granny had us to come visit her, and Ms. May h

25 Things You Didn't Know About Me

Okay...I need to apologize to those of you who actually read my gentle musings because I haven't updated anything in a while. I've started a number of postings, but I haven't had the guts to actually publish them. However, I feel as if I need to give you something to contemplate while I get myself together, so I'm going to borrow a page from my good friend, Angela. There's a note going around Facebook that asks that you share 25 things about yourself with your friends. Angela published hers on her blog , and I'm going to follow her lead. Look out for more on the Mr. Wright situation and my Inauguration trip soon. For now, enjoy... 1. I hate lies and liars. Period. 2. I'm deathly afraid of ants. 3. Even though I know most people in the Gospel industry, most of them don't know what I do. I executive produce remotes for Rejoice, but I've hosted my own show on Sirius Satellite Radio since 2001. In addition, I wrote entertainment news for ABC Radio Networ

I'm Done!

Have you ever had a bad feeling about something? You know in your heart that a situation isn't quite right, but you forage ahead hoping you're just being paranoid. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, the first feeling you had about a thing is the one you should've gone with. I said all of that to say that things didn't work out with Mr. Wright. (Pause for the collective "aww.") As I've been telling you, this latest trip to New York was a good excuse to get out here to see him. (And no, he wasn't my main purpose for coming out here. Actually, it's all about my president.) Everyone who knows me knows that I've been looking forward to this excursion for weeks because I really miss the people who've become like a second family to me. My friends are absolutely the best -- and I don't say that lightly. (Another post about them is coming soon.) Anyway, Mr. Wright and I have been talking about this trip a while, too. He knew that I was hookin

New Things for a New Year

Since it's a new year, I'm going to do new things. And that's why I called my father today. If you've been with me for a while, you know that my relationship with my mother's baby daddy is pretty much nonexistent. It's not that I have a lot of hostility toward him. I just don't know him that well. While that's not monumental to some, it's a big deal to me. This is the first time I've spoken to him since Granny died. He's called me a couple of times, but I haven't really been able to handle a conversation with him. Here's the deal -- with my mom, I don't doubt her love for me. If I'm blind, deaf, dumb, crippled, or crazy, I know she'll still care about me. My father, on the other hand, can only have affection for me if I'm doing well. His love is, in my opinion, predicated on my performance. It should be pointed out that my father has never said those things, but I just feel that way. Here's the real kick

Trust Me? Yeah, Right!

I want to learn to trust a man. I thought I could, but I'm realizing I can't right now. What brought this on, you ask? I was watching the Private Practice marathon on SoapNet, and my girl, Addison, was having issues with her new man. Her past infidelities made it hard for her to trust the man who had fallen in love with her. Even though I said I wasn't going to take Mr. Wright seriously, I've found myself getting caught up in his brand of attention. After all, who wouldn't want to be loved by someone? In this year that I've put a hold on intimacy, I've missed being the object of someone's affection. Even though this man put me through more drama than any woman should go through, it's nice. However, as my trip to New York City gets closer, I find myself questioning our situation. I guess I'm looking at the fantasy I'm in and wondering how it will hold up against the reality I'm facing. He still has three children, and he lives in New York