California Love. . .

I've had it.

I've had it from my in house California whiners as well as 'ex' Californians who have beef with the Sunshine State.

"California has a high cost of living"
"California's home prices are too high"
"California people have attitudes"
"Traffic sucks in LA" (Okay, well traffic DOES suck in LA)
"I'm moving to Las Vegas, Arizona", etc, (or any of the other 'hot on the streets cities' right now.)

I'm not talking 'bout folks moving because they want to move to another state for career purposed, or a slower paced lifestyle, or even for the aforementioned reasons.

BUT. Why do you have to badmouth my lovely state? You may not care for it anymore, but there are plenty of people who do (present company included). I certainly, considering that yes, I do find issue with some things that go on here, full on understand that Cali ain't for errr-body, and errr-body ain't for Cali. . .

Have I ever thought about moving? Sure: To Hotlanta, Denver (for some reason I'm obsessed with Denver and have never been there), New York (Manhattan in particular) Dallas, and New Orleans (that's out). Hey, and eventually, maybe I will and maybe I won't, but not because I'm fleeing the CA. Just because I want to.

Everwhere you go, you are going to take issue with something. I was not born out here, but I was raised here. In the city that I was born in, the houses are a steal, but the gas prices are sky high. My father's gas/electric bill was five hundred dollars for the month. (His house payment is only 400.00).

With that said, I'm about to give it to you straight, with no chaser.

Yes, there is a premium for living in California. I full on understand that. You are paying for many things, comparable to what you are paying for to live in New York City as well. Perhaps people bitch about that as well who live there, but I don't have to hear it.

Sidebar: This is for CA residents who understand this part, IN particular: So many people out here move to the sticks of California, so that they can afford a home. I'm not knocking, it because I don't own that kind of property, yet. But I will be dayum if I drive a hundred miles inland, EACH WAY, with wear and tear on my car, health, and livelihood (not to mention the small fortune in gas), just so I can say I have a three bedroom 2.5 bath with a foyer.

If you move out of California because you can't afford a house out here, just say so. But don't bad mouth it. Why. . .

Because California is home to so many important things, first of which are world famous authors , artists, political commentators, florence nightengales, behind the scenes movers and shakers, and teacher extraodinaires.

It is also home to:

La Jolla (and La Jolla Beach, near San Diego, California, one of the most beautiful beaches and locations in all of CA)

LA Slauson Swap Meet - The place where you can find anything and everything for your all too ghetto fabulous friends and family!

Rodeo Drive - Your own personal wish list, and if you do your money right, the place to go for style specific things: The LV, Gucci, Tiffany, Boss, DeBeers, Coach, Guess, Prada, all their own stores, how fun is that!?!

OJ Simpson Bronco Chase. Sorry kids, had to be there. If YOU think that it was exciting seeing it on TV, imagine knowing that this brother was passing through in your town. Talk about some NegroMustSeeTV!

Monterey, CA - A beautiful Central Coast community, full of quaint bed and breakfast inns, and an aestetically pleasing location for relaxing, and honeymooning.

West Coast Rappers! Snoop Doggy, Dogg. . .THE DAWG. Not to mention Dre, Tupac, NWA,

The San Fran-Cisco Golden Gate Bridge - A true San Francisco Treat! Mildy frightening to drive over, but hey, I'm a thrill seeker.

Home of Numerous Infamous Killers, up to and including:

Richard Ramirez, the Night Stalker, Erik and Lyle Menenedez and Scott Petersen.

AND, last but not least

Home of Melrose Place and Beverly Hills 90210 (Literally and Figuratively)!

We doing BIG THANGS out here in the Califor-Eye-A!

Live, from California, this P, reporting to you from K-PAT FM, the Pattyopolis Network. . .

PS: Do any of y'all get any beef about where y'all stay?

KPAT-FM's All Time Greatest Spankings

All this talk about Justin X and his current troubles, coupled with what Miss Ahmad had to say about getting in trouble has got me to thinking of all the horrific things that I got caught up in as a child. Well, I shouldn't say horrific, actually, considering I was a moderately well mannered child (or, at least I thought I was).

I think there are three times in my life that I've done things that are absolutely ridiculous. Sidebar: Whether or not your believe in parents spanking children is not the issue here, so if you take issue with that you are welcome to take it up with Fox News Sundays, Anderson Cooper 360 , or America's Black Forum.

So, I've listed my top three eff ups that have landed me in the hot seat (pun intended). I've left out the resident not coming inside on time, calling long distance number you didn't have any business doing, and not doing your chores. For me, these are the top three doozies:

Eff Up Number One: Second Grade. I went with my mother to my sisters junior high school Open House. Me, being me, and the baby of the family that I am, they were showing off all of my sisters awards and what not, and nobody was paying attention to me. I tried to get her attention, and she paid attention - to a point. But bottom line, she was there for my sister's open house. So, again, me not understanding the consequences and repercussions of what I was about to do, proceed to do something that is going to really get her attention. SO, I proceed to sit down on the floor (over my pleather coat), and pee. Yes, ladies and gentleman, not only did I pee on my pleather coat, but right on the floor of the library. My mother saw it seeping out from behind the jacket. Needless to say, I got it, and I got it good when I got home. I actually thought I was smooth sailing because I had taken a bath, dried off, and put on my clothes. My father spanked me that night. That was actually the first and last time that he did so (remember, I wasn't like a Bebe Kid or anything - I was pretty good).

Eff Up Number Two: Third Grade, Age Eight. This is the one that I call the grand-daddy of them all. Chucky, the neighborhood Billy Bad Ass, was across the street throwing pennies in the street. Of course, people were running into the street, grabbing them and waiting for more. I wasn't outside; however, I WAS witnessing what he was doing from the second story window of our house. Once again, me being the attention whore child that I was. I wasn't being the center of attention, decided that I wanted to 'one-up' him. So, what do I do. . .I go into my oldest sister's (18 years) room and grab her jar of silver dollars, gold coins, etc., and proceed to throw them in the air. Of course, this caused some PANDEMONIUM with the five to six kids that thought they had hit the jackpot, who in the fuuuck did I think I was the friggin Wiz making dreams come true or something? Did I mention that my sister's jewerly and class ring were in there, too. Yeah.

Well, who comes strolling down the street, and messes up all the fun. My middle sister (AKA the Family Stone). She was the girl on the block, that everybody was scared of. She screamed for everyone to put the money down and then she told me "Ooh, immatellmama!" I was so scared.

My mother was pissed. She called all the parents of the kids who had the loot, and dragged me to all the homes (they were on the same block) and had me retrieve the goods. Then I got spanked from one house to the next.

Yeah, I had that one coming.

Eff up number three: I was in the seventh grade, and my BFF at that time was Kim. She asked me to come over after school, and I said okay. (Nevamind that my momma told me to come straight home). But I liked Kim's house because they always had good sandwich bread and meat and we could have BBQ Lays chips and drinks. We went to her house and watched the Edge of Night, ABC Afterschool Special, then Video one, and then hung outside and played for awhile. Around six thirty, Kim's mom came home. She told me that she would take me home in about an hour. So about seven I decided to call my mom (FOR THE FIRST TIME. . .SCHOOL LET OUT AT 2:45 and let her know that I would be home around seven forty five. My mother was hot. She was like "You are going to get a whooping when you get home". I snickered. In my mind, I was like "Yeah, right, what YOU gone do, I'm twelve years old, okaaayy?" Man, as soon as I got in the door, it was on. . .That actually, was the last spanking I ever got. I don't even think that was a spanking, that was a whoopin.

So, readership, now it's your turn.

What sit-chi-a-shuns have gotten your behind in hot water? Spanking or no, I just wanna here the eff-ups.

The One That Got Away. . .

Yep.

I've had a few. And I've also been targeted as 'the one who got away'. BUT THIS ONE WAS A DOOZY. . .Maybe this is in God's design, but I know, that my foolishness accounted for a lot of it. As a result, I lost a solid, good man, who is solid gold to this day.

How I met him

When I was in junior college, a girlfriend of mines was 'talking' (what y'all know about that old school word, huh?) to another guy, and he had a friend (you know how that was back in the day). So, I readily went to meet him.

Boy was I impressed. He was tall, very attractive, well built, had a house, a decent car, no children, and he was only 25 years old! He worked for a major beverage manufacturer, and, me being me, I was like "Oh, you drive their trucks or something?" And he said, "No, dear, I'm in management". I was like oh.

"Kevin" would cook dinner for me, invite me over, and take me out. When I would drive over in my 1981 Toyota Cressida. . . Sidebar: Don't trip, I bought the car when it was nine years old you couldn't tell me Nathan in that). Sidebar: I really did think I was supa cute in my little automatic seatbelt Toyota Cressida, with my Guy, En Vogue, Troop, and Karyn White tapes in my car. Oh, my GOD, and I had a feather in my hair, too! Talk about being a freak.

Back to the lecture at hand: So, I would come over in my car, he would leave me in his house, come back, and would have filled up my gas tank for me. He was never fresh with me, and was always very respectful. . .Sometimes we would go to his house and watch American Gladiators, sometimes we would go out to the Red Onion (this is some back in the day Cali stuff FYI), and other times we would just hang out on the phone. . . Or for at least as long as I would let him.

What Went Wrong

Well, what do you THINK went wrong? At that time, my nose was wide open for this other fool I had met at the 3rd annual Soul Train Music Awards (this was when Lutha, Patti, and Dionne Warwick were hosting). I got a job as security through a friend of mines. My little job was supposed to be guarding Patti and Dionne's dressing room. (Like what is my unarmed a$$ supposed to do if somebody really tried to do something). Girl, so anyway, it was just a way to be at the awards show. I met him there. I was 'sprung' (nuther old school term) on him, and he was the first guy that I really did pretty much everything that allows me to make it a blockbuster night NOW! But of course, he was a playa. I'm sitting at home waiting on his calls, and of course, while waiting, I'm spending my time talking to "Kevin".

Sometimes my phone would click and it would be dude, and I would never click back to Kevin. I would go over his house and sit waaayyy on the other side of the couch just looking like a deer in headlights. Don't get me wrong; if you don't like someone, you don't like them. But that wasn't the issue. I liked him, I just liked the fool more. . .

Eventually, he got sick of the clicking over and not coming back. The coming over and shrinking to the other side of the couch, and just not being who I should have been. Can I chalk it up to age. . .Sure. But I won't. I take full on responsibility for being rude to him. He really like-ded-ded me, yanno?

Where He Is Now

I was reading about the coca cola strike one day in the LA times, and I saw where a manager was on the front lines, talking to the workers.

One guess as to who the manager was. . .

I nearly keeled over and broke my french manicured acrylic nails in the process. I don't even bite my nails and I had my hands in my mouth. I called my friend who works in Jury Services (Hey, supa, you know her, don'tcha?) and gave her his first and last name (I had forgotten his last name until I saw it in the paper. . .

This fool was still in the same house!

Me being me, I'm thinking "Wow, I could have gotten additions on the house at this point, been married ten plus years, maybe punched out a few kids, gotten a home equity line of credit on the house, and purchased more property, etc" (on his sheeat, mind you. . .)

Oh. . .Yeah, there were two other women living in the household, too, I found out. Looks like that's who he put as an emergency contact. Minor details. One had the same last name as him, and one didn't. So I deduced.

1. One maybe was his mother.
2. One was either his wife or girlfriend, who he is probably banging well, on a daily basis, because she comes home and is a good woman to him.

The good woman that I was not, at least not at that time.

Oh, well, such is life. If 'if's were fifths, we'd all be drunk. Yeah, I know that, too. But I do wonder 'what if?'

Ever been in a similar situation? Has anyone ever told you that you were the 'One Who Got Away?"

A Blogger's Tale

Dedicated to my blogger Fam-Bam. . .

As I was strolling on an unusually warm spring day, a koolbreeze hit me in my face. It could not come soon enough. It was such a joyous feeling. The sandals, sunglasses, and hat notwithstanding, the unusual temperatures were beating down on LA with a fierceness. This was spring, what happened to the April luv we were supposed to be getting at this time of year? I looked forward to relaxing shortly, at the spot, under a Cool AC.

Who am I? I am a registered nurse practitioner. A cute one at that. You might call me just a diva in scrubs. Currently, I am single, not particularly satisfied with it, but it is voluntary. My last boyfriend was cool, enough, I just think that we had too many personality conflicts. So, right now, I am on the prowl, on the search for rellevance, N Search of Ecstasy, and looking for Mr. Right – or Mr. Right Now.

I live modestly, but tastefully. I am tall, six feet even, and I like to rock the heels. People call me glamorous, an amazon, and that I’m living life to the fullest. Does that mean that I am living the Glamazon Life? HAHA, I crack myself up.

My personality profile is this: I tend to think that I am sexy, a superstar, funny, witty, with a hint of being sarccastik. Sometimes I can run my mouth so much it feels like you are in a whirlwind, But hey, that’s what makes me so irresistible. It’s what the good stuff is made of. I’m a well bred girl, born and raised in da durty south, a true Georgia Peach. Though, all in all, considering they pulled an Amistad on us, I like to pretty much think of myself as an African Girl in an American World.

I try and live my life with as much serenity and calm as possible, considering there is enough drama going on in this world. I try not to be one of those sisters that will drive a brother nuts with their attitudes, demands, and unreasonable expectations. I mean the way some women, particularly sisters can cut up sometimes, no wonder so many brothers tend to be on the verge of dating white girls.

But of course, I’m not here to crack on the sisters. We get down. We are ride or die chicks. We can dress and stomp with the best of them, cook clean, and be a hooka in the streets, without fail. I am a testament to that, I can strike a match and call myself a pure - d Supa Sista! We know how to sing, dance, comfort, entertain, and get down raw dawg buffalo style with a quickness. . .

Right, now, I'm on my way to listen to this new group drop some beats at The Cocoa Lounge, a kind of artsy-fartsy blacka-owned establishment uptown. A Cocoa Girl at a Cocoa Lounge, how cool is that?

Okay, this place rocks. I'm so loving this place. You always see people that are hella cool. Sometimes they play music, other times, they have praise dancers, sometimes it's spoken word - you know, homegrown poetry and essays. One in particular I like is J to the G, she drops rhymes and philosophcizes about deep sheeat. She actually reads directly out of her journal which lays credibility to her rhymes; we informally have it pegged as the Diary of Jaimie. I wonder if that's a prop or is all that stuff true? Whatever scene or room you choose to be in, this place is full of life and love seven days a week. Most of all, I love this place. It's a place where I can let my hair down, forget about my life, my shit, and just concentrate on being me.

You see all kinds of folks here. I'm waiting right now on my Malibu Rum and Pineapple drink, just surveying the place. Okay, hold up. No, that girl Tam is NOT over there flirting with the bartender just to get a free drink! Not cute. Okay, well maybe she wasn't, but that's what it looks like. And look at THIS cat! There is this brother that always comes in that it like totally pimped out. I have him pegged as Dressed to a T-Casanova type guy. I mean he stays suited and booted, he must be the closet owner of all kinds of designer gear!

Oh yeah, and the owner of the establishment gives her opinions from time to time as well, and if you are within earshot, the sheeat is hilarious! See, before she moved out here, she was livin' and lovin' life in Iowa, and this place was a little bit of culture shock for her. She always starts her sentences off with "I just want to know WHY. . ." and then she goes into it! She calls them Missy's Mental Musings. See why I love this place? It's kind of in the cut, but it has a cult following. And people are always wondering, what am I doing here? Well, you can see why!

And don't let her husband Dallas Penn get in the middle of it he's louder than her, he always says "Baby tell 'em the truf, but you know these folks, they can't handle the truf". They're cool, though, they are like our ghetto style humanity critics.

Looks like the show's about to start. I guess that's it for now. You've seen a little bit of what I like to do and what I like to be involved in. The Memoirs of A Non-Geisha, I guess you can call it.

So, what do you think? I'm One Cool Sista, huh?

The White Man Has the Power!

Or, so I thought. . .but at least I thought that's the deal was. Perhaps there was a double entendre going on, as least in my mind!

What, might you ask, am I referring to?

Well, I'm referring to the fact that often times, we recite words of a song, thinking we're precocious children, know it all teenagers, up on thangs young adults, and got it going on grown folks. Tam and I were talking about this the other day, so I decided to write about it!

I myself, have fallen victim to several re-wording of songs. Like to hear it, hear it goes.

Steve Wonder has a song, and I would sing this song all day when I was a child. I would say "You're the Only Woman, What's wrong with me, You're the only woman, baby can't you see?" Who knew that the song was "Boogie On Reggae Woman?" Who knew?

Atlantic Starr - If you're heart Isn't in it. I used to say "It's a bad time situation. . .It could fall apart at any time. . ." Well, it's a fragile situation and it's a bad time situation, isn't it all the same, anyway? :)

Doobie Brothers - What A Fool Believes - Well, how I was I supposed to know that he was saying "No Wise Man Has the Power to reason away". I would yell as a child "The White Man Has the Power, it's slipping away!"

Planet Rock - I don't know anything about that song except for Rock, Rock, to the Planet Rock, don't stop and it's the Soul, Sonic Force! Everything else about that song is a blur.

Good Times - I kind of get the impression that all of us knew the same words. I tell you what, I used to say "Easy Cradle Rip Off" instead of "Easy Credit Rip Offs". I also didn't know the last sentence right before "Ain't we lucky we got em, which is" "Hanging in a Chow Line (Good Times)", until I saw Dave Chappelle talk about it on his show!

Bennie and the Jets - First of all, this is one of my all time greatest songs, but who knew the words to this. But I guarantee you, that everyone here that knows about old school has sung this entire song, and loved every bit of it. I'm about to let y'all know the lyrics of the part that I KNOW all of y'all sing, so stop frontin: She's got electric boots a mohair suit You know I read it in a magazine (eeeh, oooh!). BBB Bennie and the Jets (Yo a$$ knew that part, didn'tcha!. (By the way, I just looked that sheeat up). Iknowwhatyoudoin, you're humming in in your mind trying to figure out what you have been saying all these years, arentcha! Isn't that one of the greatest live recordings?!?

By the way, I still don't sing Stevie Wonder and Elton John songs they way the lyrics are spelled out; too traumatizing. I would rather keep it safe and pure in my little childlike mind.

I could go on and on (you have no idea), but I won't. I know this much is true. . . I KNOW I am not the only one. So, readers. . .It is your turn.

What songs have you effed up, and, have you gotten it right, yet?

Co-Workers from Hell

I remember, on the Kings of Comedy, I believe, that DL Hughley said that there is always one co-worker where you are this close to whipping their a$$. Of course, considering that the audience roared with laughter, and he also mentioned "Well, if you're not laughing, you are probably the one that everybody doesn't like".

Yes, that co-worker. The crazy, deranged, coworker. The tattletale, the one that will throw you under the bus. The hoverer, the finger pointer, the resident kiss ass, and anything in between. You name it, we've got them. I've got a few that is this close to going on workers compensation with me.

Co-worker number one: She's an administrative assistant. She thunders down here on a regular basis, hoo-banging on either my supervisor, or myself. She constantly makes a mountain out of a molehill and tries to monopolize your time on a bunch of tomfoolery she can handle on her own. She is never at her desk, because everytime she needs something, she barrels down to the department in question and hovers at their desk until at least they give her a tentative answer. She generally doesn't deal with me unless absolutely necessary. She has told other people in and out of my department that I hate her. I do not hate her. I just don't respond to her hoo-banging, and she knows that.

Co-worker number two: The girl is a hot mess. She is classic for throwing people under the bus. I don't deal with her at all. One time, she asked where does a computer get returned to for a resigning employee. I referred her to the IT department. She then proceeded to rant and rave about how, because I work in HR, it is MY job to do this and that she shouldn't have to run around and figure this out. She cc'd my supervisor and hers. First off, I'm not IT, who do I look like, Dilbert? Second, you return old computers to the IT department. Third, just so all of you know, I'm not a big fan of cc'ing folks, unless they need to be included in the email for FYI purposes. Do not do it to CYA. The CYA IS your email. And if you think that cc'ing your supervisor and mines is going to make me jump you have another thing coming, I'm not intimidated by your supervisor or mines, so you can just forget that. I actually told my supervisor "You can respond to her, because I KNOW you don't want me to!" She has also been well documented (and J to the G) can testify to this, as to throwing her own department employees under the bust, getting them this close to being disciplined and/or terminated.

Co-worker number three: Chronic Complainer. Nothing is ever right for her. She is also an administrative assistant, who complains about her pay on a regular basis. She is upset that she is getting _______________ amount of money less than other admins. Look, you signed on the dotted line for your amount, and they negotiated for another amount. Is your department head REALLY supposed to up the ante on your salary nearly 20 percent (which is what she wants) because you don't like what you are getting paid. One, develop some more skill sets other than sashaying around the office talking about your pay. Then you will have the ammo to present a salary increase, instead of balking about your pay. That taints your character. Two, secure other employement if you are dissatisfied with your pay that much. Finally, what kind of precedent does she think that this will make if they just give her a 20 percent pay increase on GP? If that's the case, I want one, too.

Co-worker number four: He asks you these 'don't be afraid to ask dumb questions' questions, and then wonder why you are staring at him in disbelief. Such as "My bank won't cash my checks anymore because I put in the payroll system my nickname instead of my birthname", or "If employees get paid unlimited jury duty how many days is that", or "Why should I let my employees have a stress day off - Even though they were robbed at gunpoint, no one was hurt".

Co-worker number five: Sometime during the day, she will repeat something that you said where you KNOW you weren't talking that loud. Does it with you and everyone else. She also notices if she THINKS you have on something new, or if someone came in late, or if someone has been on the phone a little too much. Man, relax, go get some, do something, but stay out of grown folks bidness!

Co-worker number six: Passenger/Shotgun/Jailhouse HR Consultant. They attempt to recite what is going on in the HR world via the Labor Law Manual, or proceed to recite what they know out of the union book. Problem is, they conveniently leave out any caveats, or recite it improperly, but it sure sounds good to the lay person, who tries to use it as ammunition. Example Employee: "The union contract says that I get sick pay". HR (me:)"Yes it does, but if you have less than one year of service, the entire time is unpaid". Shut the eff up.

Had to be said, enough said.

So, who is your co-worker from hell, past or present? Do tell. . .

Can't We All Just Get Along?

I was reading Supa's post about getting out of jury duty, and I started hyperlinking into different posts and topics regarding her sister. This was before I was in the blogging community, so I had no idea of the tragic circumstances surrounding her sister.

That got me to thinking. Here is a woman that desperately misses her sister, and has to live without her physically every day for the rest of her natural life on this earth.

And, here I have a sister who I wish was dead.

I should not say that. I don't actually literally feel that way, but because I can be honest on here, I'm telling, you theoretically, that I often wonder would it be better, at least, if her children KNEW where she was. Lately, as it is going on four years of her being gone, would that be better.

She got out of jail on Saturday in Las Vegas, where she has lived for the past four years, and she called me house, did not say hi, did not say anything, but scream in my ear "Do you know where momma is?" Well, that triggered so many emotions in me, one of which was "Bitch, this is MY phone; don't call my house asking where momma is", and proceeded to slam the phone down in her face, well, as dramatic as you can slam down a cordless phone, doesn't give off the same effect, yanno?

Both my aunt and my dad told my mother (and this was confirmed through my caller ID as well), that she was calling from a '925' area code. 925 area code out here is in Northern California/San Francisco/Pleasanton California area. Well, for the past four years, she has 'resided' for lack of a better word, in Las Vegas. My mother, being the naive (not dumb, just naive to the seedy ways of the world - and people), is puzzled as to why she is now in Northern California, and is now wondering if she is trying to 'work' her way back home.

I don't have the heart to tell her that my sister probably headed out of dodge as soon as she got out of jail, and that she probably set up shop in another major metropolitan, considering the police probably have harassed her enough there. I don't have the heart to tell her that her daughter is a whore, and that they move around in areas once they keep getting caught. I don't have the heart to tell her that if her daughter does not straighten up, very soon she will end up in jail, or worse.

With that said, I feel Supa's pain, but I cannot relate. I never had that type of positive relationship with my sister, at least not to memory. She was always easily influenced. The Family Stone was stealing by the age of nine, smoking by the age of thirteen, ditching at the age of 15, a mother by the age of 19, getting investigated on her job for theft by the age of 23, and whatever else you can think of. She used my checks when I was 19 up to 300.00, causing me to lose my bank account for five years and get on chex systems. She used my name on the subway, got caught evading fare, used my name, and I ended up having a warrant for my arrest. She missed my high school graduation because she let her baby daddy use her car, while she caught the bus, and while she paid for his car to be in the shop to get a 24 karat gold steering wheel put on it. (He had a lowered Maxima, you know how that was back in the day).

She has told people I'm a stuck up bitch who is the favorite of the family. She has told people that I not love her or her kids. She has told people that I tell people that she is adopted stepchild (actually, I did question that (hehe) because she acts so friggin weird), she's like that cousin in Soul Food nobody wants to see coming.

I never had a relationship with her where I could talk on the phone, go shopping with her, go over her house and kick it, have dinner. I never told her about my first crushes, pains, agonies or anything like that. I am the baby child, but I often feel like the oldest. I try to like her, but I feel a blockage. I am not bitter, but I just don't like her. I don't know how.

What I want to know is? Is there anyone (family, or foe), that you just can't get along with, and nothing seems to work? Or, have you ever? (PS: They don't have to be as crazy as her; maybe too nosey or messy)

Scenes We Love

Inspired by Supa, Mwabi, and D in DC, all this movie talk lately got me to thinking:

Whether you have a movie night out with your sweetie or the homies, or hang out at the spot with a DVD (doesn't 'video' sound better), movies are always relaxing, and enjoyable as a pastime.

I like movies and music. I think it's a good conversation piece, and it's always an excellent utilization tool to bring people together, particularly when referring to certain scenes.

Scenes we love. We can recite them, cry about them, laugh about them, rejoice in them, cheer for the victor, and boo the spoiler (even though we may secretly vy for them).

Here are some of my favorite scenes - some of which make the movie. Caution/Warning: If you have not seen some of these movies, and do not want to know some of the pivotal scenes in them, then pass 'em on over.

Glory - Denzel Washington. The scene when he was caught trying to get some food (which later turned out to be looking for shoes). When the Colonel ordered him whipped, and Denzel whipped that shirt off of him, the feeling is just, indescribable. And when they commence to whipping. You could feel every lash, every hit, and winced, uncomfortably so especially at first, at what you were witnessing. And Denzel's face, oh, that's classic. And that one tear. Unforgettable. He, himself believes that is what won him the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.

Claudine - Actually, this whole movie is full of classic scenes, but I had to choose just a few. . .The social worker scene ranks upon one of the BEST of ALL TIME! I grew up looking FORWARD to that scene. Just some classic negro MustSeeTV! The other one, when she beat her daughter with a hairbrush, well, at the time, as a child, I didn't understand why. I full on understand now the magnitude and intensity of her frustration behind that. By the way, Claudine is about the age I am now (she's a few years older), but dang if I don't feel like I pale in comparison to her. . . I sure am glad that I don't have six kids, though!

Gladiator - When Maximus is dying at the end, and he is trying to 'open' up the door to the next life, and he pushes the door, I swear you can feel it. Hell, I almost felt like opening the door for him! And that echo-y, operatic music is playing in the background, and then all of a sudden he is called back and he gives the directive that is straight from Marcus Aurelius. And then he is gone. Then, the woman comes out and strolls and gives her final spiel, then says "He was a soldier of Rome. . .Honor him". And she leaves the Ruler of Rome, Commodus (brillantly played by Joaquin Phoenix), right there! Just a bone chilling wonderful moment!

Boyz in the Hood - Two Scenes: Picture is associated with - when they were harassed by the police. Man, when Trey swings his fists in the air, and fights, and then collapses into Nia Long's arms - I think every brother at some point in time in the hood at least, could emphasize with his pain. Second scene is when Rickey is murdered, and he is hauled into the living room by Dough Boy. The next several minutes are painful - and riveting. Anyone who saw that scene in the movies on the big screen - well, your heart was in your throat. (or as we say it, Thoat!)

The Notebook - When she looks up and says "I remember now - It's Us" and he scoops her up in his arms and they dance and start communicating with each other again, and suddenly, out of nowhere, she experiences dementia again, and they cart her off and he his heartbroken. During that scene, aren't you?

The Color Purple - There was something in the air, and they could all feel it. What a wonderful camera angle, when we saw everyone who had came from Africa (Nettie and the children) and Whoopi coming down the stairs towards them. Then we heard that wonderful yelp of "Nettieeeeee!" And her sister was so overwhelmed, she could barely say her name. . .And so you know the rest of the scene, up to and including Mister watching. Didn't you feel like you were there. Classic Negro MustSeeTV!

Mr. Hollands Opus - When Mr. Holland retired, and he didn't think anyone noticed (or cared), and he went in the auditorium, and everyone was waiting, singing and all, and then at the end, when the govenor (one of his former students), asks him to conduct The American Symphony (the score he has been working on all HIS LIFE and the curtain opened and several of his former students were there!) When he started playing and he was near tears and his wife had the camera. Everyone realized, then, more than ever, what a talent they had. I CANNOT watch this scene without bawling.

Kill Bill, Vol. 2 - Of course, we have fantasies of pulling some bomb a$$ stunts, like 'the Bride' executed flawlessly by Uma Thurman). There are many scenes to choose from, but one I like to think of is the one where she was buried alive, and she finally drew from within, remembering her teachings from Pai Mae, and she gets going. Everytime she hits that casket, you feel like that is you, while she gets herself out of that grave. I'm kind of morbid, I've even watched that scene over and over fantasizing about it. Of course, I would prolly end up dead from screaming and crying so loud and wouldn't have gave an eff about Pai Mae's teachings. The accompayning music blends in perfect with the exhilarating, feel good, engrossing moment. Love it.

Crooklyn - When the matriarch of the family passes, the spouse and the children are devastated. It takes the baby (and the only girl, boy-ishly named Troy) awhile to break down, but once she does, she realizes that her mother was in a lot of pain, and she says, very bravely, that she is glad she is not in pain anymore. Then "A Mighty Love" by the Spinners, starts playing softly in the background, and the progresses louder, where you see people talking and laughing, and just moving on in life. It shows that even in the deepest darkest hours, life goes on. . . Love it. Oh, I also like when Troy goes to visit her great aunt in that fancy house and she loses the dog. Gotta see the movie (and know a lot of older stuffy black women) to understand the hilarity (is that a word) of it!

The Five Heartbeats - Who can forget when Eddie Kane Jr. came to the concert after he was replaced by Flash. Weren't you embarassed for him when he was standing there looking (more) slender than usual, with some outdated clothes. And then when he opened up his coat?!? Once again, a classic Negro MustSeeTV moment! And everybody who has seen that movie KNOWS what song he was sanging. . .

Who makes the scores for all these movies, because they are the bomb!

Okay, I know it was a long post. So, do you agree with any of these? I have more, but hey, I could go on and on. . .What are some of your favorites?