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.

Black Thoughts

So today is the last day of Black History Month and I have had a plethora (I love that word) of things concerning my peeps that I have been wanting to get off of my chest. I guess today is as good a day as any. Here goes . . .

On Black Women Being Single

If I have to see another television special featuring a group of single Black women talking about how Black men have gone extinct, I'm going to kill myself. No, no wait . . . if I have to see a group of Black men talking about how mean and angry all Black women are THEN I'm going to have to kill myself. Guess I'm going to have to kill myself some time this week, because the network I work for will be airing that story in a couple days.

Uplifting the Black Community

The guy that I have been working with (I'll just call him "Mr. Jello PuddingPops" and if you don't know who I'm talking about then kill yourself google it) turned a lot of my people off a couple years ago when he said that the poor folks in the Black community have not been holding up their end of the bargain. The more I work with him and speak to those nearest and dearest to him, the more I have to agree with his message. The other day, I saw a toothless deli worker and a little old man curse each other out at my local grocery store. (She made a mean sandwich, though, let me tell you! Mmmm :-) On that very same day, I'd been informed that my 13 year old niece beat up a classmate and then began to assault her own teacher - who is now pressing charges. And on top of all this, at this very second I am watching a news story about the second child this week to be abandoned somewhere (not counting, of course, the infant that was tossed over a bridge a couple days ago). All of the people that I have mentioned have something in common. They are all Black folks and they are all in the poor community.

As someone who grew up in the projects just like "Mr. JP-Pops," I feel some kind of way about these shenanigans. I was talking to Pop's old homegirl from around the way a couple days ago and she was telling me (actually bragging - and with good reason) about the high standards that she, her sisters and the rest of the neighborhood held themselves to. She talked about the pride they took in keeping their community clean, abiding by strict moral codes and dating only the best of the best. In essence, she was telling me that they were poor (she used the term raggedy, lol) but it didn't define them or any other aspect of their lives. In other words, everything else about them was rich. How beautiful is that? I think that's a wonderful way to think. And it reminds me of the standard in which my family lived by (even though the rest of the neighborhood was a hell-hole). Either way, I can definitely get with Mr. JP-Pop's message, but I still think that the "talented tenth" aren't holding up their end of the bargain either. Donating money isn't the only way to extend charity and the "teach a man to fish" proverb isn't just some quaint little story. It means, you have to get your hands dirty and actually SHOW people how to live right rather than donate money to some random cause and hope never to have to cross paths with another Black person from the lower rungs of society. Just my thoughts.

Yes, We Still Need BHM

Every year I hear (some) people complain that there is no need for Black History Month anymore. I think it will continue to be necessary as long as Black folks continue to make history. Is that confusing? Allow me to explain. Ex: Barack Obama is the first Black president of the United States of America. Some lady at my job is the first Black woman in the history of the (blank) company to hold a specific position as an on-air person. As long as we are breaking boundaries, Black History Month is necessary because in this day and age it's disappointing that we are still even uttering the phrase "the first Black person to . . . " Until we are fifty years out from ever hearing that phrase again, Black History Month is necessary. Again, just my opinion.

Ummm...I think that's all I got. Enjoy your last day of Black History Month everybody!

Auditions (or a Little Thing I'd Like to Call Throwing My Current Friends Under the Bus)

So whilst watching my new favorite "girlfriend bonding" show Let's Talk About Pep, I felt those similar feelings that have always seemed to dwell in the pits of my...I dunno...loins? bowels? My seasonal wish (and I say seasonal because it comes and goes) craving for a group of gal-friends to brunch with and chat it up with on random Saturday afternoons throughout the month.

All right, lemme grab my box of tissues and find my way over to the leather couch.

Disclaimer: the following stories will have more than a few references to shows like Living Single, Girlfriends, Sex and the City and Let's Talk About Pep so if you've never watched any of those shows I've provided links as help. (Oh, and seek help :-)

*Eh, eh, eh...Ahem* It all started when I was a youngin and Living Single came out. The show (starring Queen Latifah and some other chicks) was about 4 beautiful, single (Black) women living in New York City. At the time that it came out, my 10 year old mind said, "Heyyyy!!! I have 2 sisters and my Mom. That makes 4 of us!" and from that point on I was Maxine from Living Single minus the New York City, the sex, the being grown and being a lawyer part. Either way, we were all living single and nobody was Sinclaire and everything was great and we were in a nineties kind of world and my mom wore a bunch of wigs and then my sister got engaged and preggars while I was away at college and our plan got shot to the fiery pits of hell (and there is a part of me that will never forgive her for that - even though I love those little brats).

Okay, so the show Girlfriends comes out and it's onto plan B. Who wants to live in New York City anyway? I was in college and while I already had girlfriends, they were all in different groups and I couldn't seem to get them all together at once. So in search of sisterhood, I joined a sorority. All of us were young, Black, single and living la college loca. We were going to go to parties together, eat lunch together, go shoe shopping together and date hot guys and just be awesome. We were really going to DO it. Oh, wait...did I say we? What I should have said is that they were really going to do it. I was too broke to do anything and after pledging for a million years, I was left looking like the (homeless, broke, needing a handout, college student) "Lynn" character minus the free ride and lost interest in the show and lost interest in the whole wanting to do the girlfriends thing anyway in the first dang place because who cares and I'm SO OVER IT! (Which then lead to a downward spiral of having nothing but guy friends - who didn't really give 2 craps about me outside of trying to get me naked - but that is for another therapy blog session, my friends). So yeah...foiled again.

Now we're in the post-college days. Picture me...a mid to late twenty something Arnetta Green, working in my professional field, living in a major city with a good amount of girlfriends around the time the Sex and the City movie came out. Too conservative to be Samantha and too liberal to be Charlotte. Too fun to be Miranda and I write a lot so I guess that would make me Carrie. I'm not rich but I can afford to treat some girlfriends to lunch (stop shaking your head man-friend, I could if I wanted to!) but about those impromptu lunches? Yeeeaah (said like guy on office space) that's not gonna happen. You see, you gotsta have time for that kind of thing. And time...I do not have. And it still wouldn't be one of those "girlfriend" situations either because I still can't seem to get more than one girl together at the same time. (And yeah, that probably sounded a bit molester-ish, didn't it?) Either way, the desire was suffocated yet again...until, of course, Let's Talk About Pep comes onto the scene reigniting my teeny weeny wittle wish to have brunch with a group of women (that would actually get along with each other) once or twice a month. Is that asking too much random internet people?? Well, IS IT???!!!

So because my hours suck and my current friends suck and want to be all separate and not randomly go to lunch together, I've decided that I want to put out my own This May Sound Crazy Classified Ad, so here goes . . .

***CHARMING, TWENTY-SOMETHING WOMAN LOOKING FOR 3 PLATONIC GIRLFRIENDS TO HAVE LUNCH DATES WITH ONCE (OR TWICE) A MONTH***

SEEKING A REALLY SEXUALLY REPRESSED FRIEND, A REALLY "SEXUALLY LIBERAL" FRIEND AND A "WILDCARD" FRIEND. I WILL BE THE QUIRKY AND FUNNY, YET GROUNDED FRIEND. ALL WOMEN MUST BE PROFESSIONAL IN SOME WAY, BUT WORK HOURS THAT ALLOW FOR LUNCH AT RANDOM DATES OR TIMES AND HAVE THE ABILITY TO DROP IT LOW OR CUT A BISH IF THEY HAVE TO. MUST BE AVID READERS AND UP TO DATE ON CURRENT EVENTS.

ALSO, MUST BE FRIENDLY, INTERESTING, FUNNY, GROWN AND OPINIONATED BUT NOT OVERLY DOMINATING, ANTAGONIZING, RUTHLESS OR TWO-FACED. ALSO, MUST CONSTANTLY HAVE SOMETHING (INTERESTING) GOING ON IN LIFE.

***THIS DOES NOT MEAN DRAMA*** DRAMA QUEENS, SMOKERS AND ALCOHOLICS NEED NOT APPLY.

I CURRENTLY LIVE IN THE PHILADELPHIA AREA AND WILL BE MOVING TO JAPAN SO THIS TEAM MUST BE ASSEMBLED AND READY TO EXECUTE FIRST LUNCH BY END OF MAY/2011. SEE YOU THEN!

My Own Language

Now I don't know if this is true of anyone else, but one thing I've always noticed is that if I am around someone (anyone) long enough, we begin to develop our own language. I mean to the point where I can have a whole conversation with someone and no one else will know what the heck I am talking about except that one person. Maybe it's because I grew up as half of a twin-set and you know what they say about twins making up their own language. (Even though with my sister, we didn't exactly make up a language. We just transmitted thought signals. LOL - but seriously . . . we did).

Anyway, since I feel free to say whatever I want to say on my little piece of the blogosphere, I thought I'd share some of the "words" and "secret references" from a few of the languages I have created with friends, family and colleagues over the years.

"Daisy" - (pronounced Day-zee) - mainly, a girl who has no clue that her boyfriend is a freak (bisexual, sexual deviant, whorish or just a plain ole fashioned cheater.)

ex: So I saw Jonathan the other day, hugged up with Daisy.

"Shabadoo" - (pronounced Shah-Bah-Doo) - carry on, continue.

"Conducting a business meeting" - going to the bathroom.

ex: Hold my calls, I'm conducting a business meeting in a couple minutes.

"Taking a call on line 1" - Peeing

"Taking a call on line 2" - Pooping

"The deal went through" - Give the bathroom about 15 minutes.

ex: The merger was a success. The deal went through.

"Peanut butter and jelly" - Great, awesome, wonderful.

ex: That shirt is PB&J!

"Purple Stuff" - a drink of any kind, specifically your favorite drink.

ex: I'm going to get some purple stuff. You want anything?

"Kappa Nu" - any group of people who belong to an elevated professional status, usually getting their job through "butt-kissing," nepotism or some other equally dishonorable avenue.

ex: I'm not a member of Kappa Nu, I'll kick your mother-(expletive) (expletive)!

(This expression was coined one day when a particularly angry man-friend was telling me about his stupid coworkers. He turns me on when he goes into his "hood" rants.)

Well, I'm going to have to cut this short so I can enjoy some ice cream and watch some movies. Keep it classy Sandiego!