Race in the 21st century

I ain't gonna lie.
I'm probably going to marry a white dude.
Now, don't get me wrong. Nothing wrong with this. I've been dating white men for years. It's part of the plight of being born of an upper middle class black family. Not too many other blacks around, you hang with who you hang with and identify with those whom you've grown accustomed. So, upper middle class, or upwardly mobile folks and me get along real well. Regardless of race. It just so happens, a lot of the people who were upwardly mobile when I was growing up, were white.

Now, where am I going with this? Well, every now and again, I'm reminded of how beautiful black men can be. It's primal, it gets me going something fierce, and it's just plain animalistic. I become a panther in my brain and feel the need to pounce. It's an automatic reaction. But then, more often then not, they speak. And it's all over. I'm not into hard core hip-hop, though I like some, and I hate gangsta rap. I have no desire to be someone's bitch or ho, but something in me likes the hard talk. But then I snap out of it. What's a girl to do? So, I continue my search for a freaky white boy. I've found a few. A couple I would've loved to have hung around a little longer, but such is life. Are you out there, freaky white boys? Give a holla...

We have DVD...

...and just in time.
I'm giving blood tonight, and I'm stayin' home afterwards...Totally watching the rest of my "Buffy" disc and maybe some "Dreamgirls' later. We'll see...

In the mean time,
Aren't I cute??

It's been a long time, I shouldn'a left you...without a dope beat to step to...

There was a time when I kinda just wandered through my days. But my days are structured much differently now. I know the day is going to end, and my days go faster. I know that I won't have to be stuck behind this desk for the rest of my life, and my days are better. I know that there will be a day where I no longer have to wake at the ass crack of dawn to do a job I wasn't meant to do. What's happening is what is supposed to happen. I planned it like this. I screwed up getting the desk job, but things are in motion to turn the tables. It'll be a second, but it's happening.

I'm now making another, personal move. I juice every morning (2 stalks of celery, 2 carrots, 1/2 a beet, 1 apple 1 orange). Nectar of the gods, I swear. I'm eating better, and now that I got my VCR working, Billy Blanks, here I come! I also just had my credit limit raised, so after I get my new queen, pillow-top, wake-up-sideways bed, and put my car in the shop, I think a bike might be in order. Everything is slowly, but oh so very surely turning in the direction I have decided I wish to go...now where's that man who'll be there to make me laugh, offer support (more mentally than monetarily, but that works too), total freak in the bed, who doesn't mind a little cushion for a few months while I work my personal pillow-top off??

Too bad I don't do 1-nighters anymore...{{sigh}}

UPDATE: Forget the VCR. I just ordered Billy on DVD. Dude. can't wait! But I gotta get my brother to help me figure out why I can't see my DVD's first. ;)

Blog whore...

Why do I have 3 blogs?

This is not a riddle, it's a question that needs answering.

I am at a loss, except to possibly explain that I have 3 different personalities and was saving this for all the bondage/orgy shit. Yeah, right after the tribute to my father. That's workin'.

Well, I guess I better get crackin' then...

88 Keys on a piano...

...and 88 years my father would be today!
Toffee Peanuts all around!!








Happy Birthday, Daddy!
b. April 11, 1919

I"m gonna get me one of these.
...or knit one

It's done...

So, the memorial was today. It was nice. It was pleasant. Except that the pastor wouldn't shut up and was very inappropriate. Toward the end, I ended up walking out, it was so bad (he was supposed to be closing the memorial to go to the cemetery). After he said this completely appropriate ending, he went on a rant of how there are really only 2 types of people. Those who accept and acknowledge God, and those who don't, and proceeded to tell a story about how Africans don't know how to inter their dead. I went directly to my car and slapped my FSM emblem on my bumper. I felt better. So, I'm totally emotionally drained, and am preparing to go to bed ass early.