Today, I’m lovin’ my willingness to stand up. If someone says something I disagree with, I will speak my mind–whether I know them or not. I will address them politely of course (the southern belle in me requires it) but I will make my point.
The chocolate goddess is not afraid to tell you the truth. If you’re afraid to hear it…that’s not my business.
As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve already broken one of my New Year’s resolutions. I resolved to write on this blog every day, not matter how small the entry. That…hasn’t happened. I’ve posted occasionally, but fallen very short of my one-post-a-day goal. Technology is partly to blame. I cannot figure out how to make my WordPress app on my phone work–in a fit of frustration I deleted app and have yet to add it back (clearly “be more patient” was not one of my resolutions). But that isn’t a great excuse, so I’m fixing it I fixed it and re-resolve to write a little bit every single day.
My other resolution was to love myself more. I was inspired to make this resolution by one of the most fabulous people on the planet, RuPaul. One of my favorite RuPaul quotations is, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”
This is so true. If I don’t love myself–if I’m not happy with who *I* am–how can I love my fiance, my step-kids, or anyone else? If I can’t see the beauty and the goodness in myself, how can I truly see it in others? Short answer: I can’t. So I’m loving myself more this year.
I’m going to start an exercise where I pick out something I love about myself each day. These can be physical traits, personal traits, anything at all that I love about me. Who knows–maybe I’ll post them here each day! Satisfying two resolutions with one blog post. 🙂
Amen!
Here’s an interesting story that came across my news feed this morning. Keshia Knight Pulliam, best known for her role as Rudy on the Cosby Show, was recently “fired” from the competition-based reality show Celebrity Apprentice. The reason? For not calling Bill Cosby to ask for help with raising funds for a charity. She claimed that she has not spoken to Cosby in five years and thus it was inappropriate to ask him for money.
I have my opinions on the sexual assault allegations against Bill Cosby (another day, another post). I’m sure Pulliam has her opinions on this as well, but this episode of Celebrity Apprentice was filmed *before* the resurgence of the allegations against Cosby. So why didn’t she call him?
Because that’s rude.
Pulliam and Cosby hadn’t talked in five years. FIVE YEARS. And she’s supposed to call this man talking about, “I know it has been a long time since we’ve talked–half a decade exactly–but if you could donate some money to my charity that would be awesome. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t need something.” Umm, no. The southern belle in me cringes at the thought. That is tacky to the umpteenth degree.
And honestly, do you think Cosby would have coughed up the dough?
Keshia Knight Pulliam. Photo courtesy of Adriana M. BarrazaWENN.com, ActionPress. Found on Promiflash.de.
If someone I hadn’t spoken to but to say “hi” and “bye” in FIVE YEARS called me to ask for money for charity–heck, for anything really–I probably wouldn’t give it.
So what do y’all think? Was Pulliam just acting like she had some manners or did she willingly bypass a good opportunity to network?
Check out the original article here, then tell me what you think!
When I was completing my undergraduate degree, I took a course called Sociology of Gender. I was a sociology minor, so I was interested in the elective that discussed how gender influences the world around us. In one particular session, our professor told a story about a man he knew who had faced death. The man–who was able to be revived but was technically dead for a bit–had big news when he returned to the land of the living. My professor visited this man in the hospital and the man told him, “I saw God, Steve–and she’s BLACK!”
This shocked quite a few people in my class. How could God–all knowing, all seeing, all powerful God–be a Black woman?!?
The idea of God as a Black woman is not unheard of. Authors (including one of my favorites, Ntozake Shange) have stated this before. Even today, a man is selling t-shirts emblazoned with the phrase, “I Met God, She’s Black” (see Huffington Post article here for more details).
Given the whitewashed image of God that has been presented to Christians (and the world) all these years, I can understand my classmates’ sentiments somewhat. The church I grew up in still has a huge mural of a blonde haired, blue eyed, pale skinned Jesus right behind the baptismal pool. Don’t even get me started on the Exodus: Gods and Kings controversy.
However, as a Black woman, I love that God can be seen as someone who looks like me. Black women have been lowest on the totem pole of society perhaps since the founding of America; the inequalities continue even today as Black women make 64 cents to every dollar that white men make. Black women are often stereotyped as welfare queens, jezebels, or simply “angry.” Even the most successful among us is subject to the “angry Black woman” stereotype (I’m looking at you, Shonda Rhimes).
Black women are more than just the stereotypes that are perpetuated about us. Black women are beautiful, precious, and yes even heavenly.
I tried posting this last night, but complications with my phone and the WordPress app got the best of me.
Every year I make resolutions and I usually never keep them. This year I’m making just two and I’m fully committed to every word of both of them:
Here’s looking at you, 2015!
I’ve got a confession to make.
I’m slightly embarrassed by it, but I’m going to go ahead and share. To be fair, I was young and impressionable–I was in high school!
I…used to wear colored contacts.
See? Photographic evidence.
Light green, dark green, hazel, honey brown, even purple–I wore them all. While this isn’t the worst thing a girl could possibly do, I can see now that I wasn’t really fooling anyone into thinking gray was my natural eye color. But y’all couldn’t tell me NUTHIN’–I was too cute in my colored contacts.
Which is why I’m confused about all the controversy surrounding Tameka “Tiny” Harris’s decision to undergo a procedure to change her eye color permanently. Tiny is an R&B singer and wife to rapper T.I.; she underwent a surgical procedure to change her eye color from brown to “ice gray” (her words, not mine). Once the Internet found out, they slammed her for it.
My question is, how is it anyone’s business but hers?
Tiny is a grown woman and should be able to make whatever decisions she wants concerning her body. We laud people for having plastic surgery to remove loose skin after they lose weight, but slam someone for having surgery to change her eye color? Plastic surgery is plastic surgery–we should’t judge people for doing things to make themselves feel better about their appearance.
Tiny speaks up about the procedure to MadameNoire here–check it out!
It’s been a rough few weeks, folks.
Work has been crazy busy lately, and it took a toll on me. Between all day customer classes, exam reviews for internals, required meetings, and ton of other commitments, I barely had time to breathe. There were some several days during that two week period where I didn’t eat anything all at work because there simply wasn’t time for it. After work, I headed home to take care of household duties–laundry, dishes, meals, and caring for my fiance and our three boys. I was exhausted physically and mentally. Emotionally, I was a wreck–I was so overwhelmed with everything on my plate, constantly a few seconds from tears.
Then I started listening to Pitch Perfect radio on Pandora and I finally found some clarity.
No, it wasn’t the a capella covers and Glee mash-ups that brought me some sanity. It was a single song, Titanium by David Guetta ft. Sia. This song was all over the radio when it came out in 2011; it was also covered in the movie Pitch Perfect (hence why it showed up on my Pandora station). It’s more of a dance song, which probably explains why I never really paid attention to all the lyrics–too busy shakin’ my groove thang–but the words in the song really gave me strength during a time when I was feeling especially down.
“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won’t fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won’t fall
I am titanium”
Titanium: the stuff airplanes, spacecraft, and missiles are made of. Talk about being able to handle tough situations.
After hearing that song a number of times on the station and finally listening to the lyrics, I realized that I *am* titanium. Even with the 12-hour work days and endless amount of chores to do at home, even with the stress and competing priorities, no one can knock me down but me.
“You shoot me down, but I won’t fall–I am titanium.”
“Ashley, can I have some cereal?”
These are usually the first words I hear from my step kids every day. They can’t wait to get a bowlful of some sugary concoction first thing in the morning. Cocoa Puffs, Fruity Pebbles, Reese Puffs, and Frosted Flakes are some of their favorites, but they don’t discriminate too much.
When I was a kid, I ate my fair share of breakfast cereal–heck, I’ll still have a bowl every now and again for a snack. But I want the first thing my kiddos eat to be real food, not artificially colored sugary nothing. So today we did something different!
I sliced and toasted two whole wheat bagels, spread one half with peanut butter and the other with Nutella, then cut the halves in half (necessary for little fingers). I sliced two apples and gave each boy four slices along with half a bagel (one peanut butter piece and one Nutella piece). A glass of orange juice and we’re done!
The older boys gobbled it all up; the youngest ate the bagel and most of the apple slices. They loved that they could make a “sandwich” with the two bagel pieces and use the apple slices to scoop up the peanut butter and Nutella from their plates. I loved that they got a bit of protein, some vitamins, and a meal that would really fill them up. I ate the same portion size as them and I even I got good and full!
What are some kid-friendly recipes you’ve made to keep the little ones full and happy?
One year from today, JB and I will become husband and wife!
I’m starting this series on wedding planning to share my experience and hopefully make wedding planning easier for lots of other brides out there. When JB and I first got engaged, I quickly became overwhelmed with all of the details that needed to be addressed. However, as someone who has worked as a professional project manager, I’m confident that I’ll be able to coordinate all of the details and make our wedding truly spectacular. Look forward to posts on invitation selection, ceremony details, reception planning, DIY decor, and more!
But at the end of the day, the reception decorations and ceremony programs aren’t what really matters. What matters is two people becoming one and creating their own family. What matters is promising to be there for one another always, through the great times and the terrible times. Regardless of what the decorations look like, I can’t wait to stand in front of our family and friends and publicly declare our commitment to each other and to God.
I’ve been praying a special prayer for JB and I as our wedding date draws nearer. “Father, please bless our union. Allow us to serve You, bringing us closer together as we draw closer to You. We are thankful you brought us together and unite us for life.”
One of our very first photos together!
Yesterday, I took a break from Facebook. This may not seem like a big deal, but I did it in remembrance of my father.
My dad passed away five years before I even opened my first Facebook account–it didn’t even exist when he took his last breath. So you may be wondering why I chose this way to honor my dad instead of something more conventional.
If you’re anything like me, you check Facebook at least a few times a day. So I had quite a few instances where I stopped and thought of my father. His smile. His nickname for me, Lil’ Mama. His love of Motown. Watching him drive my pink Power Wheels convertible up and down our street. Him hanging out and cracking jokes with his buddies. His silly dancing. Eating garden fresh tomatoes with him. The hospital bed in my grandmother’s house. How thin he looked the last time I saw him alive. The light blue suit I wore to his funeral.
While some of my memories made me sad, most of them made me happy. Either way, I’m glad I had the opportunity to stop and think of him so many times. I hope he looked down from Heaven and saw his little girl, now a grown woman, who still treasures his memory. Even though he’s not here, he’s still my daddy.
Daddy and me on my first birthday
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