Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

If confession is good for the soul, I'm in a really good place right now since I'm putting all my business in the street. Last time we were together, I told you about my Sex and the City situation. Now I'm going to share another secret with you. I love music. In Jr. High, I was in the band. High school found me in the choir. I was a voice major in college, and I sang with a few church choirs and groups before my career started taking up too much time. Working nights in New York City meant that I couldn't be as committed to the church choir as I wanted to be. So I resigned myself to singing my heart out in the privacy of booths at my second radio job, and belting out a few tunes for my most trusted friends. For me, music has always been a personal expression -- one that I don't share with the masses -- much like my writing. Since my voice has more of a jazzy appeal than the gospel acrobatics that most people find fascinating in singers, I've always felt ...

I have a confession to make. Even though I consider myself a part of the Sex and the City generation, I never really watched the show. When it was on the air, I was working a night job and wasn't home when it was on. Since I was never the most skilled at home electronics, I wasn't able to consistently tape it. Working in entertainment news afforded me a way to know enough about the show to hold polite conversation on the names and dispositions of the main characters. However, anything beyond that was off-limits. Like women everywhere, I was excited when the movie version came out. I went to see it, and was pleasantly surprised when I realized that I could follow it without having the benefit of everyone's back story. (Kudos to the writers for that.) It was so good that I saw it twice. Of course, my curiosity is now peaked. What was it about Sex and the City that was so special that it sparked a pop culture phenomenon? Thanks to the magic of DVD, I won't have to wait l...

I thought I'd heard everything about funerals when the church wanted to charge us to use their facilities to eulogize my beloved grandmother in March. However, I now know that we really got off good. One of my cousins in Texas lost her grandmother recently, and my mother went to the service. Mom said that from the family singers to the interpretive dance, it was a real production. They even videotaped the service. Now as bad as that whole thing was to me, I was TOTALLY unprepared for Mom's next statement. My cousin -- who was as disgusted by the situation as I was -- told her that they -- whomever had the bright idea to tape the service -- would be selling the tapes for $6 each. Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't understand why a person would tape a funeral in the first place. I understand having recorded evidence of family events. Graduations, weddings, christenings, etc.; yes. Funerals? No. Of all the days I want to revisit, the burial of my beloved Granny is not one of th...

I'm sitting in a Starbucks on Crenshaw Boulevard because a) my cave of a home doesn't received adequate wireless Internet service, and b) it's hot as Hell itself in there. I personally think it's a crime against nature for an apartment to be hot. I knew it didn't have an air conditioner when I rented it, but I swear I didn't think it would be this miserable. This is one of those days when I'd like to lounge around the house, but there will be none of that as long as Satan himself is posted up on my couch. In fact, it was the heat that woke me up this morning. I was a sweaty mess in my bed, so I got up, took a cold bath (really, there's nothing like a cold bath to cool your body down), and headed here. I bought a caramel frappuccino and posted up with my laptop to cool off, write, and people watch. This particular location is bustling with activity. Not only is it the weekend, but it's also across the street from Leimert Park, Los Angeles' version...

Here are a few of my thoughts, in no particular order, about the state of my world today... 1. The R. Kelly verdict -- I was very disappointed that R. Kelly got off, but not surprised. It took six years for the case to go to trial, and by then, no one really cared. Plus, he'd had at least three or four popular albums during that time. The thing that made me mad about the R. Kelly case was that it seemed to condone violence against Black women. Let's face it -- if the girl in the video had looked more like Natalie Holloway and less like Tawanna Brawley, it wouldn't have taken all that time to send him straight to jail. 2. The Iowa flood situation -- I have to be honest, I haven't kept up with this story like I normally would. Being in California, where the weather never changes, makes you forget about storms, rains, and other inclement conditions. However, I bring this up because it's going to be interesting to see how the government will handle the situation. From w...

This weekend, there have been many tributes to NBC's Washington bureau chief and Meet the Press moderator Tim Russert. Everyone's talking about what a great newsman he was and how he changed the face of political reporting. His friends have testified on what a wonderful friend he was, and how he was concerned and involved in their lives beyond the office. Even though he worked hard, he also played hard, and enjoyed the benefits of his lifestyle -- not to the point of excess, though. Through it all, Tim loved his family. He wrote a book, Big Russ & Me , that chronicled his relationship with the man he admired most, his father. His son, Luke, talked about how Tim would spend time with him and his friends. Tim probably wasn't a saint, although he was a man of faith, but he was genuine and sincere, and that resonated with everyone he came in contact with. For me, Tim was an integral part of NBC News -- my TV information source. I loved the way he explained things in layman...

I knew that race would be an issue in this year's presidential election. I had already surmised that we'd have to deal with ignorance from the media. However, for all I "knew," I was completely caught off guard with this. Check the caption "Obama's Baby Mama." Are you kidding me!?! According to Wikipedia, the term "baby mama" refers to a mother who is not married to her child's father. The Oxford English Dictionary defines baby mama as "the mother of a man's child, who is not his wife or (in most cases) his current or exclusive partner".[1] I probably wouldn't be so offended, but I have never heard the spouse of any public figure referred to in such terms. Cindy McCain, the wealthy wife of Senator John McCain, has never been called out as his Sugar Mama, although one could definitely argue that point, considering that since she made six million dollars by herself last year. Furthermore, has it ever crossed anyone's min...