thank god heidi has a great plastic surgeon...

As a woman, I'm accustomed to men making unwanted/ uninvited/ inappropriate advances when walking down a NYC street. Normally, I simply charge it to the game and try to remember to return the favor whenever I see a cute construction worker (nothing like a man in a hard hat). But yesterday while running errands on 34th Street with my girl, Rhea this guy damn near drooled on her as we walked past. I kid you not, dude seemed on the verge of taking a bite out of her face.
Granted, Rhea is a head turner any day of the week. She's one of those rare (and highly annoying) beauties who even on an 'off' day, looks more effortlessly pulled together than most women I know. BUT Rhea is six months pregnant!! And in the defense of well-meaning men with normal sensibilities, you'd never know if you were looking at her behind, since she's having a perfect pregnancy and still regularly rocks 4 inch knee high boots with the aplomb of a beauty queen. But that was not the case yesterday- this weirdo walked right up on us, damn near bumping into a huge display table because he was so busy trying to get all up in her grill. The worst.
Apparently, this has become a common occurrence according to Rhea. Who knew there were so many men with pregnancy fetishes? I mean seriously, even if Rhea wasn't happily married- which she is- what exactly could she do with this man? Take prenatal yoga classes?
The whole encounter really made me think about the way Seal scooped Heidi Klum when she was knocked up. And moreover, how that woman STAYS getting pregnant. I'm just saying.... If Seal weren't a star, would he just be one of those leering men tripping over his feet when pregnant lady walks by?

cold all the way down to my pink cotton drawers...

Why is running errands in 20 degree weather so much harder than when it's warm outside? It's not like the number of things on the to-do list changes... It hurts to think when I'm this cold. I was wearing no less than 5 layers of clothes and still freezing my behind off. It makes no kinda sense. And even though I was being productive in theory, at the end of the day when I finally dragged my tired, numb butt into my apartment only to discover the 150+ emails waiting in the inbox, I felt like I haven't done a damn thing worth taking about. SIGH. I need an personal assistant. Pronto.

Okay, maybe I should start with a PDA... But not for nothing, I don't want folks to have that much access to me. When I'm out, I'm out. I like the idea of my cellphone being just that- a phone. No you can't send me pictures, no I won't receive your urgent email, I barely reply to text messages (typing on the miniscule numerical keypad hurts my hand) and if you call during peak hours I probably won't even answer. Go 'head and try me.

making my nerves bad

So there are alot of things that add to New York City's unique charm. In my humble opinion, topping that list is our city's rich history. The Big Apple has been around a looooooong time. You can tell by the look, feel and yes, even grime of the city. But hey, it's my home and I claim it. Couldn't imagine living anywhere else... except maybe LA for the right upper six-figure deal... but I digress.

What I will not claim is the tomfoolery that is NYC gov't lame attempt to hold things together with gum and spit. Can someone please explain to me why in the world the roof of this C line subway train barely being held together by simple duct tape that anyone can cop at the local hardware store? WHY? I'm saying, this aint no bottomless pothole that might wreck a car or two. We're talking about a vechicle for MILLIONS of people. If you ask me, fixing this raggedy roof is probably more important than giving me another $135 parking ticket for parking in front of a fire hydrant for 30 secs while I ran in to but my MegaMillion lotto ticket. I'm just saying... Don't you think?
Sigh. Let the prayer circle commence.

my mentor is better than your mentor

Ok, my idol/ super tight homegirl/ author extraordinaire Joan Morgan just got back from interviewing Hillary Clinton in New Orleans for vibe.com!!! How fly is that? I swear, when I grow up, I want to be just like Ms.Morgan.

Anyhoo, she finally asked the good Senator the question that's been burning the tip of my own tonge for the longest- "How can Senator Clinton propose to lead by example and represent young women when one of her strongest supporters is Bob Johnson, the founder of BET, which airs videos that are filled with negative images of women?" Check out what Hill had to say about that and the possibility of an Obama/Clinton '08 dream ticket:http://www.vibe.com/news/online_exclusives/2008/02/decision08_hillary_clinton_obama/

Which one are you hoping for... Obama/ Clinton '08 or Clinton/ Obama '08?

no, I don't know when it's airing...

This afternoon I taped an episode of a series entitled, Heavyweights for the Food Network. Which is cool but not half as cool as the conversation that I had with my girl/ favorite make-up artist in the world, Romy while she was figuring out what to do about my face. Romy asserted, "Ex-boyfriends make the best boyfriends." And I first, I started to disagree but then I had to pause. She's absolutely right. Who's boyfriend hasn't acted 110% better once you cut them off? It's like add a break-up and they instanly become the man you've always wanted. What is that?
'Cause in my opinion, I have some of best ex-boyfriends in the world. They're all such a diverse, decent looking, intelligent, personable bunch and for the most part, extremely 'gifted' hint, hint.
They know exactly what to say or do to bring a smile to my face. Their timing is impeccable-never forget a birthday, holiday or even favorite color. They're patient and always so understanding of my little moments/ mini-tempertantrums. And did I mention helpful? An entire relationship can go by and not one offer to pick up some groceries. Let a break-up occur... refrigerator stocked. All the little quirks and bad habits that used to drive me up a wall are so cute.... And then it hits me- all this is possible because they're busy being somebody else's problem. Sigh.
I love my ex-boyfriends. Don't you love yours too?

can i get an amen

So exciting, I just found out that my new teen book HOTLANTA (hitting stores at the top of april) received a favorable review in Publisher's Weekly! To put it in perspective, PW picks are the Golden Globes to New York Times Bestseller Ocar gold. Normally, PW picks receive favorable treatment from bookstores, magazines and in the case of teen books- LIBRARIES. 'Cause it's all about having HOTLANTA shelved in every singel high school library from here to Kalamazoo... Read what the nice lady had to say about my book:

http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6534279.html?industryid=47139

And so I ask again, have you pre-ordered your copy of HOTLANTA yet????

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw/103-6233515-2042237?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Hotlanta&x=5&y=17

two snaps down...

After barely recovering from a vicious 24-hour flu, I went to see the final performance of The Color Purple musical last night at the Broadway Theater. Now, commonsense says I should've stayed my behind home and watched the Oscars. but since it was officially the last night of the show's Broadway run and I actually paid full price for my ticket, I popped some Immodium (thanks Sharae) and went to see what all the hype was about.

And all I have to say about the show is- WHY? WHY, WHY, WHY? Why would Oprah sign off on that ridiculous interpretation of such a classic novel and movie? You say Bush doesn't care about black people? After sitting through last night's performance, I have some serious questions about my beloved Lady O. Otherwise how could she see on all the peeling lace front wigs, poorly placed microphones (dead on the center of the forehead? Really?), gruesome facial expressions made by Celia, unnecessary extra plot (did Celie really sell pants?) and gratuitous lesbian liason references and still co-sign on that tomfoolery? I mean seriously, when the gossipy chorus is the best part of the show, Houston we've got a problem.

Not to sound like a miserable killjoy- yes, I am always happy to see black people working, and there were definately some notable individual moments within the extra long two and a half hour performance but the next time an evil, lowdown dirty, ignorant woman-beating masochist like Harpo can be reformed and redeemed by simply changing his dark colored shirt to a rainbow hued plaid one, PUH-lease count me out.

colored snow is not your friend

I love snow days!!! But let me be specific, not the day of blustery dirty water flurries that stick to your hair instead of the ground and only make you wet and annoyed. I'm talking about a certified- winterwonderland, shut it down, curl up on the couch with my fave pillow/blanket, watch the latest delivery from Netflix and talk to my girls on the phone all day long type of snow day. SIGH. I'm in heaven right now...

Drama loves snow days too. As soon as my dog sees fresh snow, she forgets that she's supossed to be an geriatric eleven-year old dog with a pronounced limp and bad attitude. Instead, she reverts to those long gone puppy days when she used to run amuck across my mom's lawn leaving little trails of yellow snow behind. Hee-hee.

pass the collection plate

So I'm reading this story that was intitally reported on the CBS Early Show about a pastor in south Florida that is encouraging his married parishioners to have sex on a daily basis. According to Relevant Church head pastor Paul Wirth:
"A great sex life is a challenge and takes focus, determination, and planning," reads the church web site. "Some say it’s an unrealistic goal, but we disagree. We believe you can have a great sex life, in fact we believe God wants you to have a great sex life."

Can I get an amen? This man issued a 30-day challenge to all his members to go out and get some! http://www.relevantchurch.com/

All I want to know is where do I sign up for the choir? Cause for the first time in my adult life, I'm starting to think that there may actually be something to this whole organized religion thing. Praise the Lord!

Alas, the inevitable let down:

"Pastor Wirth's 30-day challenge does not extend to unmarried congregants. Instead, they were asked to abstain from sex for the month."

BOO.

bless the hands that tend to the naps

So I'm chatting with a good friend that cuts hair for living and he mentions that he isn't feeling so well. Something about a sore throat and tightness in the forehead... Not thinking much of it, I suggested he take some Emergency, get some rest, and promised to check on him the next day.

Well in true Mitzi form, as soon as I hung up the phone my mind got to spinning out of control- What would happen if he really got sick? Who was going to cut his clients hair? And then bringing it back to me- 'cause I always do- what would would happen if Edris, my favorite hairdresser in the whole entire world ever got sick? What if it happened on a day that I needed her? Omigod, I would be DEVASTATED. 'Cause ask anyone who's ever seen me with the signature EDRIS party 'do- that woman makes my hair SANG. Whenever I leave her salon I look and feel like a sups-dupa-star!!!


Besides it's a scientific fact that can't nothing go right when your hair is a wreck. I'm willing to go as far as, there are just some people that should never be allowed to get sick, go on vacation, have babies, etc.- brain surgeons, the President of the United States, and most importantly, hairstylists. Shoot... Edris is just as important as my transplant coordinator and quietly, even more of a priority when it's time to step out (no offense Maureen).


Please believe that from this day forward, without fail, I will be including Ms. Edris in ALL my daily prayers.

my godson is a genius...

Now I know that everybody thinks that their godchild is special. But for the record, I KNOW that my John Junior is beyond special. Matter of fact, I'm scared of this child. Every time I turn around he amazes me... Case in point, today- I'm talking to his mother about what's new and improved in my little jelly bean's world (Yes, that's what I call him).
Here's how our convo went:

Mitzi: So how is JJ doing in school?
KD: "Things are great. JJ had his first parent teacher conference... the pychologist had to explain to his teachers why JJ is the only child that goes to the quiet box and stands on his head."
Mitzi:"Um KD... why is my godson standing on his head when he gets sent to the quiet box a good thing!?!?"
KD: "Because that's the way adults tone it down in yoga. And your godson was just showing the teacher that he is trying to pull himself together."

Tone it down? Yoga? Who is this little boy with the craziest smile ever?
Come on, I double dog dare you to try and beat that.

the shameless self-promotion continues...

I know some of you don't believe me when I say I'm working hard (err-um Mommy, Shayla, Torrence, Tarez) but alas, there is proof. The article that I recently wrote about how the nosediving American dollar almost ruined my vacation to Monaco for Odyssey Couleur Magazine is now available.
For those of you too lazy to go out and find a copy (and I know who you are), here's the link to my story:
http://www.odysseymc.com/dying-dollar.html


PS. If you love to travel half as much as Carmen, Carla and I do, allow me to highly recommend you cop a subscription to this ASAP.

this chick is the worst...

Okay, for the record I'm a big supporter of the older woman younger man hook-up scenerio. Nothing says happily satisfied thirty year-old woman better than an eager to please twenty-five year man. But there's a limitation to the stupidity. And I am offically tired of female teachers molesting their teenage students. Like seriously, what in the world can a grown woman see in a fifteen year old-boy besides puberty?

Read about the latest candidate for mandatory sterilization:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/02/19/teacher.sex.ap/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

And is it just me or does she totally look like that desperate chick at the bar who couldn't pay somebody to take her home at the end of the night? You know, non-descript facial features, sloppy body, whatever hair and clearly nothing good going on in her life... Boo.

drumroll please....

Okay peoples, it's finally up on amazon.com!!! Woo Hoo!!! Now is the time to pre-order your copy of my new book, HOTLANTA!

The first of a three book series, HOTLANTA is best described as an African American version of Gossip Girl with a murderous twist. I promise you're going to love it and if you don't well... feel free to post all the reasons why right here on my blog.

But seriously, I need all your support to make sure this series has some Sweet Valley High-esque longevity.... so GET TO ORDERING!!! Buy a copy for you, your sister, your cousin and your cousin's best friend.

Here's the link:

http://www.amazon.com/Hotlanta-1/dp/0545003083/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1203472567&sr=8-3

Oh and did I mention that when you pre-order on amazon, there's a discount? 'Nuff said.

don't f*&! with angry white women...

Just when you thought a year in jail might've humbled the big M... According to the Associated Press, Martha Stewart has just bought out Emeril:

"The New York-based media and merchandising company founded by domesticity maven Martha Stewart announced Tuesday that it bought the rights to the Emeril Lagasse franchise of cookbooks, television shows and kitchen products for $45 million in cash and $5 million in stock at closing. The final price could rise to up to $70 million if certain benchmarks are achieved."

$70 million dollars? Forget Hillary, this old broad is no joke. Mark my words, come 2012 its gonna be all about Oprah for Pres and Martha for VP, word up!

Read the rest:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080219/ap_en_tv/martha_stewart_lagasse

the oil truck driver is my new bff

So I've been sitting here all day feeling totally unmotivated. You know, like when you just can't get anything done? I woke up with every intention of washing up last night's dishes, going to the gym, washing my hair, responding to the 101 emails that I receive everyday and possibly even starting to write this book that's due on May 1st. And despite all my good intentions, the only thing I seem to be able to do is curl up in a ball on my couch and talk on the phone.
Now I admit, there are days that I suffer from delusions of grandeur where I convince myself that I am a skinny wealthy housewife who can spend all day eating Hostess Chocolate Cupcakes and watching Maury instead of being productive. But today wasn't that day.
Turns out that today, I actually have a a legit reason for my slacker behavior- I AM FREEZING. It's 36 degrees and I have no heat or hot water. What in the world? Of course I don't want to type, my fingers are numb. Of course I can't wash up the dishes or even bathe, I aint got no hot water. Basically, I'm paying over a 1K a month to be cold, stinky and unproductive. Good grief. And jsut when I was making plans to start sleeping on the kitchen floor in front of my oven doorwith the dog, the oil truck showed up. Seriously? At 5p? Don't they know I live among Dominicans and we can't last two secs without heat let alone all day!!! If this keeps up, I may have to go get a job.

time for mighty to go home...

As you can see, a picture speaks a thousand words but I have to say, I'm going to miss the little noisemaker. Probably not as much as my slutty dog, Drama but still....
Once I got past the non-stop barking/ peeing/ all round bad behavior, Mighty was actually not that bad of a small dog to have around. And I have to say, he definately held his own against my neighbor's pitbull. Who knew?

lil' lisa turned 30...

and considered this is a valid excuse to book a fly hotel suite, get her friends twisted on liquor and cupcakes and then flash her thigh in my pictures... And you know what? I concur. Thanks Shorty Rock!
But on a more serious note, does another girlfriend turning the big 3-0 mean I'm really an adult? 'Cause not for nothing, I'm nowhere near having the meaning of life figured out and firmly believe in calling my mom at least twice a day for answers. And it seems like every time I turn around another friend is turning 30+, getting married or-gasp- getting knocked up. Am I the only one who feels super pressused to pull it together?
Speaking of getting my life together, I should probably mention that I'm currently featured as a talking head in BET's 'Top 25 Celbrity Break-Ups'. And I say this only b/c folks are always yelling at me for not keeping them updated on the latest and greatest in my work life. So there you have it, I'm on BET spewing 'ish about celeb break-ups (which is super ironic for reasons that will remain unsaid- you do the math).
DISCLOSURE: not really sure what had happened with my hair but I do love the way my make-up and outfit look onscreen. The twins were working the usual magic in the v-neck Malandrino knit dress... LOL.

only me...

It's official, I'm a crazy magnet. Either that or I'm a breathing example of the old adage- the road to hell is paved with good intentions. So this afternoon I decided to run into Pathmark to grab some ground beef so I can make my all time fave Friday night dish- tacos. I'm thinking, not only is cooking my food healthier than eating out, it's a also good way to save money. Besides, it's only one item, I should be in, out and on my way in ten minutes top. Right? Yeah, right.
Depite the fact that I sped through the fruit/ veggie section and grabbed my ground beef in a single swoop, I headed smack into a check out line 5 FOLKS DEEP. And all I can think is, 'It's 3.30 in the afternoon. Doesn't anybody on 145th Street have a damn job???' Since there was nothing I could do short of shoplift, I take a deep breath, turn on my Ipod and try to relax. Thirty minutes later (yes, as in 3-0), I'm just within striking distance- one person away. AND THEN this broad in front of me who's been acting like she doesn't hear her own baby crying it's lungs out for the past half an hour pulls a bag of MIXED grapes out of her cart!!! I almost fainted. Who in the world doesn't know that you have to separate the grapes by color and seed? It's 2008 people, COME ON. but wait on it- then 'ole girl starts to ARGUE with the checkout chick. Talkin' about she always mixes her grape and how she wants to speak with a manger. At this point it has now been FORTY-FIVE minutess of waiting. I started to have visions of snatching the bag of grapes and smacking her and the snotty nose baby upside the head with it.
Omigod, all this for a pack of beef? And as I'm sure you can guess- I dont even want the stoopid tacos anymore.

i'm such a cheap date

As I prepare to drag my butt to the gym to continue to fight the never ending battle against my tummy and thighs, it occurs to me that today is Valentine's Day. And aside from the well meaning texts and emails from supportive girlfriends and a possible call or two from the not so well intentioned ex-boyfriends, I'm not getting squat on this blessed Hallmark holiday. Sigh. But it's actually okay because what I really, really, really want for V-Day, I'd probably never receive. What is it? Well since you asked, aside from two dozen roses, a funny card, diamond earrings, a BMW 6-series drop-top and a trip to Tahiti with my ten closest friends; All I really want is some Bliss FatGirlSlim cellulite cream.

Why of all unromantic things in the world would I want FatGirlSlim cellulite cream you ask?

Simple: Because there's nothing I dislike more than diet soda/food/ shakes/ plans/anything and working out. And even if it's not doing anything, slathering this bad boy on every day makes me feel good dammit. Which is more than I can say for excercise.

Paying my gym membership every months pains me like child support like I was Eddie kicking down Scary Spice. The sight of an elliptical machine makes my my head hurt like the photos of the pantyless tragedy that is now Britney Spears. Every sit-up makes me want to slap the taste out of some skinny chick passing me with me coordinated workout outfit. I despise pilates. And I have never, ever, ever acheived that mythical state of runners high that people insist exists. On the contrary, when I see people jogging in the park my first thought is - 'Look at those fools running to their deaths.' I know, I know, not nice. But if it makes you feel any better I've started to pray on it, literally.

Every morning, when I say my morning prayers I add a line or two about the need for self restraint around chocolate, and the desire for a miraculous warp speed increase in my metabolism. Shallow? Possibly. Honest? Definately.

maybe my mom will get discovered

So it turns out that E-Dub wasn't just talking that ish... according to http://www.dlisted.com/ (my fave source for mainstream celeb trash talk), JLo is actually going to be delivering the babies at Long Island Medical Center, the hospital where she works/slaves for the man. Very interesting. On a totally unrelated and superficial point, from the looks of this picture, Jen Jen would want to go on and have them babies before she passes the point of snap back return. Cause when looks are all you have going for you, don't nobody need to see a jiggly Jenny from the Block... I'm just saying.

small dogs are cats that bark

Sigh, don't you just love well trained dogs? You the know the kind that come when they're called, sit and fetch on command, have been housebroken since you first met them? Not to wax all nostalgic on our four-legged friends but quietly, I was feeling aways when I noticed that I missed the Westminster Show this past weekend. For the first time like- ever-a beagle, named Uno; won the Westminster Kennel Club's 'Best In Show prize for 2008. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/13/sports/othersports/13westminster.html?em&ex=1203051600&en=c8da5dd435661271&ei=5087%0A

Trust me when I tell you that Uno the showdog is a far, far cry from Mighty, the super spoiled, nappy haired dog that I'm stuck babysitting through the weekend (and my sister says that I don't love her).

Aside from the fact that I don't necessarily care for small dogs, Mighty is about 30 pounds of nothing but bad dog. He whines constantly, barks at the tiniest noise (did I mention that I live in the hood? where police sirens, babies crying and folks arguing is considered mood music) requires a pillow, bed, blanket and countless toys to be comfortable and takes his dumps IN the house (wee wee pads are the tools of the devil).

I swear, if he tries to jump up on my couch or pee in my living room ONE more time, there's going to have to be a prayer circle for for his salvation.

i'm back...

I had so much fun in the DR!! Mali's wedding was AMAZING. She looked fantabulous. And DJ Porkchop tore it down at the reception. I danced 'till I had to hobble back to my room.

In only three days Carla, Carmen and I managed to swim with turtles in a freshwater lagoon, save Carm from drowning when she fell out of her kayack in the middle of the ocean, recover from a brief bout of the runs w/o a single sip of Pedialyte, make friends with too many male locals, piss off quite a few female locals, drive a golf cart through a rainstorm like it was the Indy 500 and bust my homeboy's butt in a heated game of Uno on the porch of his fabulous private villa.

Granted, trasitioning from non-stop sun and 90-degrees to a snowstorm is a bit of a bummer... but all in all- life is good.

am i the only one....

That didn't know this chick was in rehab? Really Eva? Is THIS what we're doing now? Didn't she get the memo that when you get make it to the pages of Instyle you're was supposed to leave the Johnny Walker filled flask behind? Uh-uh, unfortunate looking love scenes with Will and Denzel don't make you a big enough celeb for this type of behavior senorita. Boo, hiss boo.

On another note, I have to say how much I appreciate that Health Ledger's unfortunate 'accidental overdose' on prescription meds has now become the impetus for all kinds of whatever white celebrities to run to rehab. Yes, hello Kirsten Dunst. Who's next? Jessica Simpson?

I only wish there was rehab for piss poor acting. Then everytime a movie BOMBED or the performance was NOT-SO-MUCH, folks could get to running there.... I can hear it now- "Hi, my name is Cuba..."

i should be packing...

Or at least laying my tired behind down.

But no, instead I'm here reading a Reuters article about the lastest medical research discovery- HIV can now be transferred to previously healthy babies though pre-chewed food. (PS, in case you're curious-that to your left is an image of an electron micrograph of the HIV virus.)

"In developing countries, some mothers pre-chew food for babies. These women may lack access to packaged baby food or may not have a way to blend baby food. This practice is thought to be very rare in the United States or other wealthy nations." (Clearly, these medical researchers haven't been around busy black mothers recently.)
"The researchers, who presented their findings at a scientific meeting in Boston, said the infected women's saliva itself did not transmit the virus to the child, but rather it appears blood present in the saliva caused the infection... HIV transmission appears to have occurred when the children ingested pre-chewed food that contained blood from the bleeding gums of HIV-infected women, and this entered the children's bloodstreams through a cut, sore or inflammation of the mouth or digestive tract. (Not sure about you but I personally got queasy at the bleeding gums part.)
"They said they ruled out other possible means of infection such as breast-feeding or blood transfusion." (I'm confused. If minute samples of blood in the saliva is enough, why wouldn't a transfusion from this same individual be a problem? As a person very likely to need another tranfusion at some point before I kick the can; this blatant contradiction concerns me. But I digress...)

"The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said it had identified three cases -- two in Miami and one in Memphis, Tennessee -- in which a child was infected in this way between 1993 and 2004. The mother was involved in two of the cases and a relative who acted as a caregiver was involved in the third." (For a second I was going to talk about the insinuation that Miami and Memphis have folks living there that behave like they're in a developing country but it's late; so I'll just save the smart talk for another time...)

Okay, I'm done. Forreal, forreal, folks are stop acting like HIV isn't still killing us every which way you turn.

Check out the entire article if you have the time:

http://uk.reuters.com/article/healthNews/idUKN0631284520080206?feedType=nl&feedName=ukmorningdigest

clearly under the influence...

Why is it that I can never get out of Target without spending AT LEAST $100!?!? No matter how many times I give myself the 'I'm just going to run in and get out' pep talk, it hasn't happened yet.

Perferct example: Last night: I went to Target to buy a towel. A single towel. Just ONE single towel that got ruined in the last unexpected bathroom leak (cause you know I needed the receipt to deduct from this month's rent that I'm paying when? Today). So anyhoo, understanding that I have a problem, I purposely didn't arrive at Target until 15 minutes before closing (reasoning to myself that if the store is closing there should be all kinds of annoying "keep it moving shorty/ get up out of here/ the store is closing in 15 min announcements" to keep me on track). Well don't you know Target doesn't make closing announcements? So next thing I know it's 9:15p and I've not one but TWO towels, a new floor mat/ toilet cover set, matching handtowels, a giant lint roller and replacements, face moisturizer, headbands, pancake syrup, and a seashell shaped candle holder. DOES THIS EVEN MAKE ANY SENSE? My total came to $98.51 minus the ONE towel. Um, why am I acting like there's not a recession popping off? Didn't my financial planner just give me the extra side-eye when we had our retirement planning meeting the other day (heeey Anthony!)? Sigh, I give up. It's true, I'm addicted to Target

happy, happy, joy, joy

Sigh, I love it when star power is put to good use.
So I'm purposelly not going to mention today's NYT article on how little money from Bono's (RED) campaign is actually reaching the remote HIV ridden places in Africa that really need it. No comment at all. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/06/business/06red.html?ex=1202965200&en=5c8644a316c84484&ei=5070&emc=eta1

No, I'm going to focus on Kerry Washington, Rosario Dawson, Jessica Alba and Ali Larter's new PSA in support of Eve Ensler's 'V to the Tenth,' an upcoming two-day celebration of the tenth anniversary of the Vagina Monologous in New Orleans, LA, that includes concerts, speakers and performances of the play to benefit women in the South and abroad.

Happening on April 11 and 12th, featured performers include: Common, Eve, J-Hud, Joss Stone, Ashley Judd, Ellen DeGeneres, Jane Fonda, Salma Hayek, OPRAH (yeah, i capitalized it) as well as poets, writers and scholars from around the country.

Check it Out:
http://www.etonline.com/news/2008/02/58283/index.html

super tuesday sucks...

Okay my people, I'm not totally ready to toss the honorary white woman cape on my back just yet but I'm definately having a moment with ya'll right now. Did Obama really sweep Idaho but lose New York and New Jersey? Uh-uh, I'm gonna need us to pull it together folks.

i take it back

Okay in retrospect, today might not be as bad as I wanted to believe before my mandatory time out. Cause when I finally woke up (see earlier post), I remembered my stroke of good luck this morning- I actually won a battle in the never ending NYC alternate side parking wars!!!

See what had happened, was...

Trying to be be slick. I decided to sleep in an extra 15 minutes and combine walking the dog with moving the car this morning. But when I got to the one block in my neighborhood with a double park free zone, the only spot left was in front of a fire hydrant. Mind you, that would've been fine if I stayed my behind in the car for the next hour. But there was no way I was sitting in my tiny car with Drama's breath kicking on unholy high. So, using what can only be described as hood logic, I decided that since my apartment was only across the street, I'd just run the dog back inside and come back. Yeah, thats what 6 hours of sleep, no breakfast and 3 years in Washington Heights will have you thinking makes sense.

Anyhoo, I get to my apartment, take the leash off the dog, I look out the window and sure enough- the hardest freaking division of the NYPD is back a little metermaid cart up next to the Volvo. All I could think was, 'ANOTHER $165 ticket? NOOOOOO!'

When I say I Jackie Joyner Kearsey'd it out my apartment, down the stairs, out the two heay double doors and across the traffic-filled street so fast you'd think I was a runaway slave. Waving and shouting like a maniac, "no, no, no, no officer, puh-lease officer!" I know the boys at the bodega must've thought I lost my god given senses the way I was behaving. So ugly-sigh. Then, taking it to the next level- cause you know how I do... I got all up in the poor officer's face with all my morning breath talking about "Puh-lease, I just had to take the dog upstairs, I promise I will never do this again!!!" I know he took one took at my ghetto head scarf, still-got-sleep-in-the-corner-of-the-eye face, lime green polka dot pj pants and was thinking, 'Lord have mercy; they don't pay me enough for this.' And he's probably right. But whatever, cause he stopped writing the ticket and rolled off. Thank ya LORDY!

four days and counting...

Why is it that something as exciting as going to my old school BFF, Mali's destination wedding with my fave travel partners, Angie & Carlita is turning out to be so damn stressful? Granted, no matter where I go, the last five days before departure are always hectic but this is ridiculous! Two assignments are due, a new pimple pops up every hour, everybody keeps calling an emergency meeting, the rent needs to be paid, the hairdresser is overbooked, my fave nail shop around the corner just got shut down by the health department, I lost the five pounds and the strapless magenta bridesmaid dress is looking crazy and I don't have but two pair of clean underwear left in my drawer! Argh- I need a nap.

barack is my homeboy

But let one more person send me that will.i.am produced, 'Yes We Can' video... Just ONE MORE!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lSuMdkff0_o

I loved the actual speech when I heard it from the man's mouth, no need to try and convince me by humming it over a tune. Besides, shouldn't my friends know that I have the attention span of a two year old and live to procrastinate? The last thing I need is one more reason to wind up on youtube.com. 'Cause we all know that youtube ain't nothing but a gateway website. Next thing I know, I'm surfing YBF, Dlisted, my all time fave Crunk & Disorderly; and word the first hasn't been written ALL DAY LONG. Besides, do I really need to hear Scarlett Johanssen try and jumpstart her pop career?? Really?

But back to the point- if you dont' want me and Drama trying to crash on your couch becasue we got evicted, sstop sending me that video.

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE TOMORROW! GO BARAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!

PS if you need further inspiration take a gander at this editorial observation of the effect that the women are having in the NYT. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/04/opinion/04mon4.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin

super bowl mvp title really should've gone to...

All the diehard fans of the NY Giants. Year after year, those poor white boys trek out to the Meadowlands and sit in the freezing cold for hours at a time just to watch their team lose (further proving my personal theory that white folks have wallrus skin).

Therefore, I believe NOBODY, not even David Tyree who had the most amazing catch I've seen in YEARS and probably woke up this morning unable to move his neck, deserves it more than the the WBs. 'Cause you know where us 'sometimey' black folks were up until the team actually made it to Arizona- in our houses, WARM, talking smack about how the Giants wasn't neva gonna make it..

home in the hood

Okay, so when I decided to work for myself three years ago, I accepted all the romantic notions of being a struggling entrepreneur. You know, the whole 'living check-to-check, working 7 days a week, eating ramen noodles as I feverishly finish what is sure to be the next NYT Bestselling novel, wing-and-prayer, success-by-any-means' mantra I give myself every time I see a fabulous pair of Loboutins or hear about a $2.1 million dollar dream brownstone in Harlem for sale.

Umm, but what I DIDN'T sign on for? The freaking home office drama!!! I mean don't get me wrong, I love my little home in the hood. I may not have a doorman, but hey, I got boys at the door for protection and Billy my friendly crackhead in the lobby to sign for my packages. I mean, who needs an ADT security system when my neighbor Gladys lives with her front door open minding EVERYBODY's business? As long as there's enough square footage for Drama to lay around and fart without me smelling it; I'm fine. Except for one tiny issue....

Why does my apartment ceiling leak AT LEAST once a month????? If it's not the bathroom, its the kitchen. if it's not the kitchen it's the living room... good f'ing grief. I KNOW the management company must tire of me calling up and cussing them out like hooker on the point. I KNOW the folks upstairs hate the sound of me incessently ringing their doorbell like I'm po-po making a bust at all hours of the night. It's freaking ridiculous. My poor super has carpel tunnel from constantly replastering/ painting my ceilings.

SO instead of getting ready to go to my girl's Super Bowl party, I'm sitting here listening to the pitter patter of the water hitting the bucket in the kitchen. And I'm really starting to consider calling that annoying realtor chick who insisted living in a newly renovated 350 sq. ft apartment next to a FIREHOUSE was a 'total bargain.'

hi, my name is Mitzi and i'm a blogger

So, after fighting the whole 'writing-for-free' movement for as long as a professional writer possibly could, I too have finally succumbed and started my own blog. Aaargh, excuse me for a second while I throw-up in my mouth. Just jokes, people; just jokes.



Anyhoo, I haven't the slightest what I will be ranting and raving about, but fingers crossed, it'll keep folks entertained.

Stay tuned...

mm