Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

This is a bad time in our history. The economy is absolutely awful, and I know I'm not the only one feeling the effects. President Bush says we're not in a recession. That's laughable, but also scary. If this ISN'T a recession, I'm afraid of what a recession looks like. Gas prices are sky-high, people aren't making as much as they need to if they have jobs, and those of us who are under-employed aren't able to find work that'll allow us to re-introduce our ends. Even everything is looking bad, I refused to be depressed. I personally think that the way we feel about a situation is a choice. Since my Bible tells me in 2 Corinthians 5:7 that we walk by faith and not by sight , I know that what my eyes see isn't all there is. We have to understand that our fight isn't about the physical things we deal with. In Ephesians 6:12, it says that we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the ...

I read Hillary Clinton's new comments about Rev. Jeremiah Wright with interest. In case you missed it, the former first lady told reporters that if she were a member of the Trinity United Church of Christ, she would've moved her membership after hearing what she referred to as his divisive remarks. In fact, her exact quote was, I think that given all we have heard and seen, he would not have been my pastor." She said this to deflect criticism over her erroneous accounts of her Bosnia trip. If I had any doubt about my support for Barack Obama before, I certainly don't now. First of all, I find it amazing how Hillary waited to weigh in on the controversy surrounding Obama's association with Rev. Wright until she was in the hot seat. Reporters have been asking her about the controversy since it first came to light, but she used her response as a "Get out of Jail Free" card. She basically said, "Yes, I made a 'mistake' by saying that I landed in ...

Time waits for no man -- or woman, in this case. No matter what blows life deals us, we still have to keep it moving. As I struggle to come to terms with Granny's death, I realize that I have to move out of my apartment. Why, you ask? Because my meager budget just won't allow me to keep paying this exorbitant rent. Of course, in defense of the rent, I have to say that I knew it could be a strain when I first got this place. It was just that I loved the space. Being fresh off the plane from New York, it looked like I was moving into a vast estate. If you've ever seen New York apartments, you know what I'm saying. LOL Anyway, I fell in love with the place, and I thought that I'd be able to afford it once I got my dream job. Fast forward to now. The dream job I was looking for has yet to be found, and I'm struggling to re-introduce my ends. The last thing I need to pay -- in addition to a car note, insurance, gas, and food -- is a grip of rent. Hence th...

I’m a huge fan of romantic comedies. It’s cool to see my fantasies played out on the big screen. Tales of handsome men and beautiful women falling in love entertain me no matter how many times I’ ve seen them played out. The Wedding Planner , How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days , Something New , Brown Sugar , Sweet Home Alabama , and countless others make me believe that one day, I, too, will find the unconditional love I so desperately yearn for. Even though I’ ve been hurt more times than I care to remember, I still believe that love can and will happen to me. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I that my very own Mr. Wonderful is waiting in the wings to sweep me off my feet. He’ll be cute, smart, financially sound, and perceptive enough to see me for the beautiful, sexy, intelligent angel I am. This man will think I’m the bee’s knees, the butter on his rice, and the ham hock in his collard greens all rolled up in a MackDiva - licious package, and I’ll think the same thing about ...

I think I finally understand why my father makes me so mad. It’s because he doesn’t know how much his indifference to me hurts. Please understand, I didn’t want him at Granny’s funeral because I didn’t want to deal with the rejection and pain he provokes in me. But the fact that he traveled all the way to Florida to be with my sister in her time of need while just sending flowers to me in mine just magnifies the differences between my sister and to me. I know it’s probably irrational, but it’s still very hurtful to me. As I told you, I didn’t meet my father until I was 22 years old. It wasn’t his choice to know me. Instead, his sister forced me on him. She contacted me after hearing me on the radio and invited me to Christmas dinner. I went out of sheer curiosity, and I sometimes think it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Those of us who grow up without a father always fantasize that the man who contributed half of our DNA will love us unconditionally like parents are supposed to...

I am angry. This evening I spoke to my mother's baby daddy. I would refer to him as my father, but that wouldn't adequately reflect our relationship. He's the man whose genetic components mixed with my mother's to produce me. That was the end of his contribution to my existence. This is the man I'd longed to know for years when I was a child. My mother, to her credit, never spoke ill of him. Instead, she'd always say, "You'd really like him if you got to know him." In my mind, he was the one who would rescue me from a stepfather who didn't love me and a mother too preoccupied with keeping the peace to notice. I used to love the song, Daddy's Home, because I thought he really cared about me, but just couldn't get to me to show it. When I finally met him at the tender age of 22, I found him to be an arrogant, selfish person who had eyes like mine. He's into making good impressions, and he's very curious about everything. We share ...

Even though funerals are designed to celebrate a person's life and times, they ultimately become impromptu family reunions. No matter how raggedy your relatives are, they'll come together to support those who are grieving. While it can be an enjoyable situation -- I mean besides the actual death -- these situations can expose or reinforce any rifts in the family structure. If you've been keeping up, I told you that I'd be giving some in-depth explanations about some aspects of my grandmother's funeral. Today's subject is my uncle and aunt from California. Uncle Spineless is my grandmother's oldest living son. He's about 13 years older than my mother, and he left home when he was 19. For reasons unbeknownst to me, he stayed away for 13 years. By the time he'd returned to my grandmother's house, my mom -- the baby of the family -- was 18, and he was married to Aunt Cruella. From what I can gather, Aunt Cruella hates our family and she's done ev...

We had the funeral over the weekend. Please know & trust that yours truly acted all the way up. I tried to hold it together, but in the end it all fell apart. Let me back up & say that, for the most part, the service was lovely. There were some things that should've been done differently -- and I'll share them at a later date -- but my cousin preached ever so eloquently. Then came the moment of truth, also known as the viewing of the body. Everyone handles that thing differently. There are those who walk by, look at the guest of honor, and keep it moving. Some check out the main attraction, and then come to where the family is to show them some love. Still others come to the family first & see the deceased last. When it comes to the family, the situation is handled according to their relationship with the person of note. My cousin, who hadn't seen Granny in a while, wept the whole time. When it was time for the parting view, she cried even more. My br...

I hate the fact that my brother and my cousin never got a chance to know Granny when she was fun. See, Granny had the stroke when my brother was 10 months old, and by the time my cousin came to live with us, she had already been down for about 10 years. They never knew how much fun our grandmother was. They didn't get a chance to hang out in the kitchen and cook with her like I did. Neither one of them ever got the chance to wear a hand-sewn outfit from her. They never even saw her dance. When I was little, Granny and I went everywhere on foot. (She never learned to drive.) We would walk out the shopping center to pay bills and pick up knick-knacks and stuff. We'd go to church every Sunday morning, and watch wrestling every Sunday evening. Most times we'd watch at home, but sometimes we'd go down to Ms. Rowe's house and watch with her. That was always an adventure because Ms. Rowe would get rowdy when she watched those men fight on TV. Of course, Granny ha...

Even though my grief is the most significant thing going on in my life, I don't think you should have to deal with it all the time. Therefore, I decided to dig into my archives and give you a break, too. This is a post I wrote for my MySpace page back in September. Enjoy! I found out this morning ( September 20, 2007 ) that Magic Johnson, one of the most successful businessmen in the country, has decided to back Sen. Hillary Clinton in the 2008 presidential race. His comment was, "He's not ready to be President of the U.S. ... It's not about black or white. I love him, I wrote him a check, I talked to him on the phone. I think he's very articulate and smart but he's in over his head." The former NBA player went on to say that he felt like Barack was a rookie player who wasn't ready to lead the country and that it would take him at least eight years to build up the relationships and experience that Hillary has already. I'm not a political person b...

If love alone could keep Granny here, she never would've left... She loved her children more than life itself. There was nothing this woman wouldn't do for them. I remember when my mom -- her baby -- had her hysterectomy. Granny was well in her 80s and had lived with the effects of a stroke for at least 15 years. Her right side was partially paralyzed and she didn't have full use of her right hand, yet she was tipping around the apartment trying to make sure that Mom had something to eat. Never mind her own pain. It wasn't important at that moment. In her mind, all that mattered was that her baby was taken care of. If love alone could keep Granny here, she never would've left... Even though Granny had stopped going out of the house, we always made sure she looked her best. My mom would buy cute things for her to wear around the house, and my brother -- the perfume king -- made sure she smelled good. When I would come home, I'd comb and grease her hair like she l...

I've heard that there are five stages of grief. Yesterday I was in the angry state. I'm mad at Granny for dying. We had a deal -- she was supposed to live forever. Period. In my opinion, she didn't uphold her end of the bargain. Granny knew that I needed her. It wasn't like I hadn't already told her. How dare she take her leave! Just gave us two fingers to the wind and bounced. What am I supposed to do? I've now joined the ranks of the grandmother-less generation. That's not cool. What's cool is having the oldest grandmother on the block. What's cool is being able to hear stories about my family and me from someone who'd actually been there to see it all. What's cool is having a grandmother to love me. ***The preceding was the irrational thoughts of a bereaved mind, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the management. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.*** My mind is flooded with memories of Granny. I'll share two of ...

Can someone please tell me what I'm supposed to do? I'm caught in a crazy place, and I don't want to be here. On one hand, I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Here I am sad because my 96-year-old grandmother is gone, and some people haven't been privileged to know theirs. Everyone says, "She lived a long, full life. You should celebrate." And I will...one day. Today, I'm completely broken. It's like my very core has been ripped out. The one person that I could count on to be here isn't. And while I know my life will go on, and that this pain will subside, I don't know what I'll do until then. Granny's never been far from my mind, but now that she's taken her leave, I hear her words echoing in my head all the time. Every situation is running through my Granny filter. "If Granny saw/heard that, she'd say/do, etc." My memories of her -- I have so many -- keep playing in my head like some kind of crazy movie. It w...

Well, I'm happy to report that we will be having Granny's funeral at her church, and we WON'T be paying the fee. My uncle called on a cousin of mine to preach the funeral, and he happened to be friends with the new pastor of our church. After the two of them had a conversation, everything was on-point. Not only will we not pay the fee, my cousin will stay over and preach at the church that Sunday morning. I'm so glad it worked out. Now it's just a matter of getting through the other formalities -- like the service. One of my grandmother's favorites has agreed to sing, and I'm thinking about asking some of my good friends to perform, too. My mom asked me if I would sing, but I don't think I can handle it. Even though I'm sure Granny would love it -- she never got a chance to hear me sing in public -- I have a feeling that the emotion of the day won't allow me to do it. I'm not gonna plan on it, but I won't rule it out, either. This is so n...

How many tears does it take to wash away the pain? Even though I've always been known to cry at the drop of a hat -- I'm the punk who can watch Grey's Anatomy and be jacked up -- this is different. This brand of hurt comes up when I least expect it, and it drains me. I thought I used up a lot of tears yesterday, crying off and on, but it seems that there are even more things to cry about than Granny's death. We found out that my grandmother's beloved church won't allow us to have funeral services there unless we come up with a fee. Never mind that she loved that church, raised her children in it, served in the mission ministry, etc. In this new era of "church business," we've been told that none of her history matters. Because this 96-year-old woman wasn't an "active" member, (seriously, how active can you be when you're as old as dirt?) they've got to get paid. While the fee itself isn't astronimical, the principl...

God answered our prayers. She's gone, and her suffering is over. Mary Melissa Hopkins Scott transitioned into the afterlife at about 3:30am CT on Wednesday, March 5, 2008. She leaves behind three sisters, two sons, a daughter, nine grandchildren, and host of other relatives and friends. She also leaves behind my broken heart and the knowledge that I'm now living in a world that doesn't include my grandmother. Saying goodbye to Granny won't be easy. The very thought of looking at what's left of the vibrant woman who gave me everything brings me to tears. I know she would want me to be strong for my mom and my uncle and my brother -- and I will -- but right now, I've got to grieve for myself. At this point, my only thought is trying to make it through these next few days without losing my mind. Pray for me...

I'm not usually at a loss for words. I am today. My mom told me that they think my grandmother is nearing the end of her earthly journey. That hurts. My grandmother, Mary Melissa Hopkins Scott, is 96 years old. She's outlived her parents, two brothers, four sisters, a husband, a son, and a daughter. She's lived long enough to see Jim Crow come out to play and go back into hiding in the South. She's seen the days when voting rights were non-existent for Blacks, and she voted in every election she could when those rights were given to her. She's experienced more pain, suffering, joy, and laughter than most people will ever know in their lifetimes. This woman got married at the age of 22 and became a widow at 42. She raised five children, and not one of them has spent time in jail, been strung out on drugs, or been in the news for anything negative. She had a stroke in 1981, and lived alone until 1999. She lived with my mom until the government threatened to cut off he...

Am I the only one who ever wonders if he or she took the right path? Sometimes I think about the choices that were made for me, and that I've made in life, and wonder if they were the best for me. If I had grown up rich, would I be a different person? Would I still know the same people? Would the people in my circle like me, or would they just play the game because I was wealthy? Would I be nice or would I be a snob? Could I have been a celebutante who spent her time dancing on tables instead of working? Would I have been happy about it, or would I be so miserable that I'd turn to drugs, booze, and sex to make my life worth living? What if I had pressed to go to the University of Houston or Baylor instead of settling for Panola Junior College and the University of North Texas? If I had stuck with a RTVF major instead of pursuing a music degree, would I be further along in my career? (Just in case you didn't know, RTVF stands for Radio, TV, and Film.) Or if I had just go...

Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I know a lot of people. It's nothing for me to run into people I know. That being said, even I wasn't ready for what happened this evening. One of my good friends called me up and invited me to a party. Normally, I'm down for a good shindig -- especially if there are going to be cute dudes in the midst -- but I had been out all day, and I wasn't particularly in the mood to be bothered with a bunch of drunk, weed-smoking thugs. Then, I got lost on the way because my friend, bless her heart, gives the worst directions. I drove around long enough to get lost and consider going home, but since I had put on my makeup and was cute, I thought I'd better at least make an appearance. When I finally found the place, I had to park my car around the corner and walk about a block and a half to the spot. Then, my homie took about three minutes to answer the phone and another three minutes to let me in. When I got there, I was already pr...