Old Timer's Disease

I have probably already said this before, but I am definitely going to be one of those crazy little old ladies who holds conversations with myself or even worse...conversations with people who are looong gone from my life. Why? Well, because I've already started. Now I'm not even going to drop the "this may sound crazy..." disclaimer on this post because I KNOW I'm not the only one who talks to themselves. Some of yall know you start your morning routines off on the porcelain throne with thoughts of yester-year or yesterday's mistakes, lol. This week just happened to be mind-numbingly surreal and super busy so I've been trying to pick up some pieces and put things into perspective. Either way, every so often a soul-draining, "Noooooh!" will escape my mouth or a sudden burst of "Ugh!" And do you know what that looks like to the outside world? It looks like I should be over at Shady Acres hugging myself in a padded room.


UGH!!!

Just An Excuse to Post Some of My Favorite Songs

So last night I went to a Ledisi/ Mint Condition concert. Being that it was a Friday night and I work from 3am to 10am on Saturday mornings (and yes, I'm at work right now) I ended up getting only 2 hours of sleep. But boy was it worth it!!! Sooooo worth it! Ledisi tore up that stage and then Mint Condition went on ahead and set that ish on fiah.

Now here are some of the things that was running through my mind while Mint Condition slayed the audience.

1. I didn't know that "Stokley," Mint Condition's lead singer, was so short.
2. I also didn't know that he looked so much like Kirk Franklin - maybe it was his being short and wearing a hat and jumping around the whole stage.
2a. He may be short, but with a voice like that he could get it I can understand why he is the lead singer.
3. What happened to good male R&B groups?

So I got to thinking about some of the songs that came out during my formative years and how much music has changed since then. I remember singing R&B songs in the backseat of my mom's mini van along with my sisters. Just belting out lyrics that had no curse words, no reference to sex or body parts but had a grown person's swag to it that even we recognized as children. Songs so serious it made you understand that this man (and about 3 or 4 of his buddies) were pouring out their very souls...every last inch of what their heart could offer...putting it on a track and giving you the privilege of listening to it in the courtesy of your own home. With real drums, piano and saxophone in the background.

"This feeling is the one thing my heart is sure of." Yall don't hear me though!

I'm sorry not really but I am a lyric person. I listen to every word an "artist" sings and you can't just talk about "inventing sex" or "getting sex therapy." You have to grab my heart and just rip it out of my chest while it's still beating. I am very passionate about words. And I know that "sex sells" but I'm that old-fashioned kind of day-dreamy, romance obsessed girl that still listens to a song and imagines that it's about me.

(Even though this song really is about me. I actually have almondy, dark brown eyes in real life.)

So if you're going to sing about love, (deep RuPaul voice) you betta sing about LOVE. And I mean real love. Unlike these teeny boppers out here today, some of us can still tell the difference.

For example, have you ever been on your way to see the love of your life after not seeing them for maybe a year, a month, a week or even just one day. But the anticipation of seeing them makes you feel like your heart is going to just jump out of your chest?

Or have you ever gotten out of a relationship with someone that you loved because they didn't know how to give you what you needed? Well, I'ma need you to fast forward to 2:10 on this next video.

Or how about some plain, ole-fashioned feel good music?

And the videos! Remember the music videos?

You want special effects? 6 seconds in. (It's like they appear from thin air).

Cutting edge fashion? Just check out the shoulder pads and hair at 34 seconds.

Sensual dance moves? 1:28 to 1:40

And see who Rihanna stole those sunglasses from at 17 seconds.

Okay, okay, the videos weren't the best...but at least they tried!

On a positive note, there are plenty of good songs out there that remind me that R&B is not completely dead but I guess going to the Ledisi/ Mint Condition concert last night just brought back some nostalgic memories of my favorite male R&B groups. Also, I will be meeting Boyz II Men (another group that was killing the game) for an event coming up in April and I've been listening to a lot of their music lately. Seeing them perform should be interesting (despite the absence of Mike a.k.a the only decent looking one in the group). And that brings me to another thing about the R&B singers. They weren't lookers, but the way they sang and performed their songs...it didn't matter! In some cases, the uglier they were...the better they sounded.

If you can tell me who wasn't blasting that song in 1991, I will give you a million dollars!

Well, I guess we're at the end of this post. But you know I can't conclude without posting a song from one of the best male R&B groups of all time...

Sexual Chocolate!!!

They play so fine, don't you agree?

Hell Hath Frozen Over

I have been EXHAUSTED lately, working 7 days a week. It's been 2 months that I've been working both overnight weekends and doing a seasonal job for the other 5 days. (Trying to save up money). Either way, I've been really tired and kind of short with folks due to the lack of energy it takes to make small talk, kiss butts and actually just give a rat's booty. The one thing that has come out of the freaking woodwork, however, is an innate desire to cook. And I mean COOK. I don't know...maybe a brain cell burst and my "home-maker" gene came oozing out or something but I have been doing some out of character things like going into the kitchen and whipping up stuff that takes hours to make and actually includes fresh ingredients and ish. And it's been on an obsessive tip too. Like the other day, I couldn't sit down and eat before I baked dessert. And today, I found out that I had an hour to kill so I drove downtown in the pouring rain to the grocery store (20 minutes away) to get one JUST ONE missing ingredient for something I've been wanting to make. And then the pictures. I take pictures of all of my dishes. So I'll just get straight to the point with what this post is pretty-much about.

Pictures!!! . . . of my foood!!!

Spaghetti and (homemade) Meatballs naturally

Bread Pudding

As per Islandbaby's awesome new blog Memories of a Chunky Chick (which yall need to check out because she will be posting healthy recipes among other wonderful things)

Vegetarian Thai Red Curry Soup and Lemon Grass infused Jasmine Rice

That finished product is gorgeous, isn't it? ISN'T IT??!!!

And as per RebelMel's wonderful Friday posts over at Tweeded.com I present to you . . .

Vegan Red Velvet Cupcakes

And yes, my shirt says "Kiss me, I'm Black"! It was St. Patrick's Day!

There's more to come, but yeah . . . in the past couple days, I've been getting my Betty Crocker on! Maybe there's hope for me yet.

Now off to go stir up this bean dish.

Cheese to go with my Whine

At work today, my supervisor decided to get on every last one of my nerves. He'd reached the very last one when I was forced to go outside and put some money into my parking meter, only to find that I'd already gotten a $76 ticket. Also, I was in a "tow away after 3:30pm" zone and it was 3:33 so I had to move my car. Only, I'd left my keys in the office. So 5 blocks back to the office, 5 blocks back to my car (which was still there thank God) I called up the manfriend and went into moan and groan mode. Luckily the manfriend knows what to say in those situations.

Me: And he had the nerve to say that the music I picked for the segment wouldn't work because (blah, blah, blah. Whine, moan, complain)

Manfriend: He has a lot of nerve. Tell him that he doesn't know what he's talking about.

Me: (shrill, high pitched voice) And I got this $76 ticket! I'm already $250 in the hole this month.

Manfriend: Don't worry babe I'll pay the ticket. You have enough to deal with.

So while pulling out of my parking spot, eyebrows furrowed and mouth contorted into a permanent frown I remember saying, "I want to cry. I really want to cry right now!"(Because I'm so grown). And right then and there the saddest violin song starts playing. No lie. Violins.

I look around, trying to figure out where the heck the soundtrack to my life was coming from and I see on the street corner, a sad looking school boy playing a violin. The violin case sitting in front of him as onlookers dropped change into it. It looked like something out of Les Miserables. And then a solitary leaf floated ever so gently to the ground in front of him. At that moment I burst out laughing. I realized how immature I sounded and it hit me that all I needed was a lonely violin to play behind my childish whining . . . and I actually got it.

From that point on, my mood changed and I realized that it was an extraordinarily beautiful day. Sunny, 73 degrees. After 3 straight weeks of surprise snow storms and then 40 days and 40 nights (okay 4 days and nights) of rain, I was complaining on a day like this? I told the manfriend that I was fine and that I'd handle my boss and the $76 ticket. He was a little confused by my sudden mood swing, but relieved. (Poor guy! I take him through so much, lol)

So now every time I complain I hear that sorry violin song. Okay, Jehovah . . . I get it! Thanks for the kick in the pants!

Why I Don't Get Enough Love

So this morning whilst checking my email, I came across a comment that my dear friend Stephanie over at Not the Oxygen left on one of my posts.

@Arnetta: I just posted your link on 20sb for blogs that don't get enough love because I think you don't...and you're cool. I don't know what the problem is :P

First of all . . . I heart you Stephy-Poo and if you ever want to go gay (minus the monogamy and the sexy time) I'm all for it . . . and secondly *shrugs* I don't know what's up wit dat either. I'm like the little match girl of blogs. I've resigned myself to the idea that I'm just a "starving artist." Someone who blogs to release tension, whether the world is watching or not. I mean, I wouldn't mind a few more followers, but at this point I'm just happy to have an outlet. Either way, these are some of the reasons - real or imaginary - why I think I don't have a million and one (or even 11) followers.

- My blogging is way too sporadic. I will sometimes blog every day and then just not blog for a week/month (although I've been blogging a lot lately). Sometimes the blogs will be funny, sometimes serious, sometimes a little bit of both. Maybe this confuses people.

- I don't have an interesting enough life. In other words, the "man-friend" stories are not cutting it, lol.

- I am an anonymous blogger. I think it's harder for people to connect with someone they can't see. (That's probaby a big one)

- I have garlic breath. And somehow people can smell it through the interwebs. (I eat a lot of italian food)

- My writing does not translate the way I think it does and it comes off confusing, negative, hokey, depressing, corny, random, (fill in the blank).

- I don't have a "thing." You know, a theme, like Lilu's TMI - Thursdays or Re-Ramblings "Pot Luck" Posts or RebelMel's "Freeby Fridays."

- I don't post comments on enough blogs. To tell you the truth, I don't have the time. But the 15 or 16 blogs that I do frequent get their fair share of comments from Arnetta Green, trust that.

- I'm not badass butt enough

- I get too philosophical. This is something I've been accused of doing in "real life." Just talking about life, feelings, relationships, history and maybe people don't want to hear that ish.

- I don't twitter, or reveal my facebook info.

- My layout or title is not cool enough.

- Either, a very influential blogger didn't like a comment I left on a blog or they read one of my posts and didn't like it...so they black listed me, turning the whole web world against me.

- (This is not really a reason-but it further explains my "black-listed" conjecture) So there's a blogger that I used to follow and I noticed that every time I would make a comment, she would never respond. Which was kind of odd, because she wasn't a "hands off" kind of blogger. Okay, whatever, I thought to myself. Maybe she didn't get around to reading my comment. So one day, she'd gotten quite a few comments and responded to each and every one of them, big and small, generic and personal, every last one...all except mine. Coincidence? I don't think so. And I swear my comments were stuff like, "Your dog is beautiful. What breed is he?" or "That looked like fun. Glad it came together for you!" I'm telling you...I'm blacklisted! You guys might want to be careful not to get black-listed by association.

- Maybe I'm excluding a demographic. Sometimes I talk about subjects like race, class and gender. And frankly, that can just be "too heavy" for people. *shrugs*

- Not enough pictures on my blog. You know blog-readers are "baby brains." They need the pictures to keep them going. Morons!

- Maybe I'm too condescending to my potential-followers. Calling them "morons" and "baby brains."

- I don't have enough skills/hobbies or enough . . . I don't know "life" in my life. Like I don't garden, not a clean freak, don't sew/knit or cook too often...my schedule (right now) is overly-packed with work...and when I get home, I mainly just walk the dog, watch tv and go to sleep. Okay...aaand maybe this is the part of the post where I should just kill myself, LOL.

- Maybe I'm just too fabulous and you morons guys can't relate.

- Maybe I'm not fabulous?

- ...nah! I'm fabulous.

Well, that's all I got for now. But all jokes aside, I absolutely love blogging and appreciate any comments, "following" or support that I get. You guys are a small group, but you lift my spirits and make me feel a little less crazy every day.

All right, enough mushyness. Time to get back to work, but first allow me to leave you with this delightful find.

You're welcome! :)

In The News . . .

Here are some news stories that have peaked my interest today.

Nurses' union: Care does not include sex

Thu Mar 11, 4:21 pm ET
AMSTERDAM (Reuters) – A union representing Dutch nurses will launch a national campaign Friday against demands for sexual services by patients who claim it should be part of their standard care.

The union, NU'91, is calling the campaign "I Draw The Line Here," with an advert that features a young woman covering her face with crossed hands.

The union said in a statement Thursday that the campaign follows a complaint it had received in the last week from a 24-year-old woman who said a 42-year-old disabled man asked her to provide sexual services as part of his care at home.

The young woman witnessed some of the man's other nurses offering him sexual gratification, the union said. When she refused to do the same, he tried to dismiss her on the grounds that she was unfit to provide care.

"This type of action is not part of the job responsibilities of carers and nurses," NU'91 said.
The case has been reported to police, the union added.
(Reporting by Ben Berkowitz, editing by Paul Taylor)

Okay, you know what really pisses me off about this situation, aside from the obvious ridiculousness of thinking that the same person that changes one's diapers is going to suck one's dick? The fact that there are women out there who actually did. I swear there is always one woman (and in most cases - more than one) who . . . in the middle of your fighting to raise the standard . . . will knock you out of the way and stoop to levels so low that you can totally understand why men will ask - demand even - that every woman stoop a little (or a lot) lower. I swear we do it to ourselves. (And I don't care if prostitution is legal in Amsterdam, we've got to do better ladies. Good grief!!!)

Okay, next story . . .

"Women of all races bring home less income and own fewer assets, on average, than men of the same race, but for single black women the disparities are so overwhelmingly great that even in their prime working years their median wealth amounts to only $5.

In a groundbreaking report released Monday by a leading economic research group, social scientists turned a spotlight on the grave financial challenges facing an often overlooked group of women, many of whom could not take an unpaid sick day or repair a major appliance without going into debt.

"It's rather shocking," said Meizhu Lui, director of the Closing the Gap Initiative based in Oakland, Calif., who contributed to the report "Lifting as We Climb: Women of Color, Wealth and America's Future. Among the most startling revelations in the wealth data is that while single white women in the prime of their working years (ages 36 to 49) have a median wealth of $42,600 (still only 61 percent of their single white male counterparts), the median wealth for single black women is only $5.

Read more here

Gaaaah! There's too many factors involved for me to judge anybody. Those stats are sobering, though.

That is all.

Look at Your Own Risk

Things that make my soul cry . . .

And. I'm. spent. Goodnite!

Men are From Mars

I got into an argument with the man-friend on the car ride to work this morning. It started out as a casual conversation about the sense of entitlement that the majority of the male species seem to have. The man-friend was pretty agreeable, and in fact was the one that initiated the conversation in the first place based on the funny video clip from the 3 Amigos that I posted the other day. He shook his head at the idea of knowing that a man would actually consider killing someone who didn't return their sexual advances but said that to a degree (and as a man) he knows how men think and that they do tend to have a higher sense of entitlement than women.

So in his random way of telling pointless stories (which is something we both have in common as you can see by this post) he proceeds to tell me about how he went upstairs to walk the neighbor's dog (backstory to that is . . . she broke her leg and we've been doing the neighborly thing for her- we have a very "I Love Lucy" relationship with our neighbors) so anywho, he was waiting while she was getting the dog ready and noticed that her HD television was not on an HD channel. He then tells her to turn the station to the HD version of whatever channel it was already on, which she does, and he begins to explain to her the way the channels work and how HD stations work and all kinds of jibberish that I'm sure she just nodded, smiled and listened to. (If you haven't already guessed, the man-friend works in the television business). So according to his story, he finishes his HD television monologue with the words, "This is the channel you SHOULD be watching."

Now when he got to the end of his story, I laughed and said that "that is a perfect example of entitlement." What? he asked. "Coming into someone's house, telling them to turn the channel to something else and explaining to them why they should be watching that." Of course, he argued that he was helping her and that she was grateful and as someone with an HD set, she should be watching HD channels. I told him that could very well be the case but to actually tell someone they should be doing anything in their own home takes a certain level of . . . waaait for it . . . entitlement. Hence, the argument commences.

I don't know, maybe I was just reading into it more than I should and I'm sure that the neighbor was appreciative and receptive to his "friendly and helpful" diatribe about the benefits of HD but I just found the story a good example of the naturalness in which men (or at least most of the ones I know) tend to, you know, direct folks around. Now this is not to exclude women, because I know a number of women who will tell someone what they ought to be doing in a heartbeat. But when it comes to men, they have a monopoly on that ish. I have had guys come up to me and tell me that I should walk my dog more (while I'm walking my dog), tell me why I'm single (even though I'm in a relationship) or just explain to me the benefits or disadvantages of something that I never asked them about in the first place. And sometimes it's helpful, but I can't help but to ask myself if I'd ever feel that comfortable saying the same kinds of things in the same exact ways. Like I imagine that, had I given our neighbor the same HD tv tutorial, I would have ended it with, "but at the end of the day, it's about whatever you feel comfortable watching. I just think it looks better on such-and-such channel." and not, "That's what you SHOULD do, heffer!" lol, okay, well he didn't call her a heffer, but...

Another example of that subtle "masculine entitlement thing" would be how much space men take up. For example, it's hard as heck to walk down the street with the man friend because he refuses to budge for people and if our arms are linked, I always have to be the one getting slammed into whoever is coming into our direction. So I end up falling back a little, dipping and dodging because he and the other men who refuse to budge feel entitled to the whole dang sidewalk. I guess it's just in a man's genes and I'm also sure that it comes from centuries and centuries of running ish.

So the car ride got a little hostile when I half jokingly said, "You make me sick!" and the man-friend (half seriously) replied, "You make me sick too, I can't wait to drop your butt off at work!" GASP! How dare he???!!! I had to pull out the last weapon I had. I did what any female would do if their man told them he wants her out of his sight . . . I got a little quiet. "What's wrong?" (pause) "Don't be mad," he said looking over every so often to make sure...I don't know...that my head didn't explode or something. When I get quiet, the man-friend can't bear it. Suckerrrr! lol

Needless to say, I just got a text that says "I love you" so yeah, men may have a sense of entitlement but it's up to a woman to pound that ish into the ground.