Friday, February 27, 2009

ain't been right since...

So I was on the train yesterday, reading the morning newspaper over this man's shoulder (yes, I am that girl, dammit) when I noticed that the first pictures of Rihanna post beatdown had surfaced. In the shots, she's somewhere way warmer than New York wearing this fabulous gold cut out one piece bathing suit but looking hella sad. Once I stopped obsessing over how long I'd have to live off of crackers and soda water to fit into that thing without scaring the kids, I started thinking about the matching tattoos that she and Chris had gotten over the course of their relationship. Weren't there like 2 or 3? Umm-hmmm... So basically, every time she looks in the mirror, she'll think about the dude that whelped up her big ass forehead the night before the Grammys? Lord.

And then, because everything eventually comes back to me, I remembered that poll I posted umpteenth months ago asking how'd you feel if the person you were dating surprised you with a tattoo of your name on their body. Tlaking bout they love you and wanted the world to know...

Perhaps I'm just a little stalker sensitive but I was genuinely surprised at the 17% of you that would find that flattering. Really? Cause they care enough to permanently scar themselves on your behalf? Hmmm... Not that I'm anti-tattoo, it just seems to me that folks normally choose to honor dead people on their bodies. And while it might seem like a stretch, please believe foreshadowing is a bitch (read: it's waaay too much for my scary behind to leave up to chance).

So as I'm sure you can guess, I'm setting up tent with the 82% who would be totally freaked out by some mess like that. And trust, I'm so not trying to talk it out either. I'd just smile in his face when he initially showed it to me and by the end of the next business day, my ass would've done gotten a restraining order, moved to another state, legally changed my name to Coco Esmeralda and started selling vibrators at passion parties. Shoot. Play if you want to... Elsa's kid ain't trying to be a senseless tragedy.
On the bicep today, dead in a ditch tomorrow- you decide.

all systems are a go...

Dang, I have really been slacking on my posting game this week... My bad ya'll.

Unfortunatley, there's been a whole lot of tomfoolery going on behind the scenes- bootcamp, work and then since God got jokes, she started the cycle early. So Mama had to take a moment to get her head together. No worries, I'm back on point and ready to roll. AND I just posted the new poll question. So get to voting!

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

the real reason for camera phones..

Normally, I wouldn't bother posting a damn word about Solange "Somebody Puh-lease Notice Me" Knowles. How-some-ever this here photo of her face down, passed the hell out in the LAX baggage claim area from last week's airline 'Nyquil' incident is freaking priceless.

And err-um, for someone who supposedly, "passed out" it sure looks like she made a very conscious decision to lay her lil ass on the dirty floor homeless lady style. You know with the comfy blanket that she clearly stole off the flight. Mmm-hmm. 2 cents says there were a whole lot of sleeping pills mixed in with that alledged innocent dose of Nyquil...

If you ask me, somebody needs go get the leather belt- this child clearly wants a good beating.

translator please...

See now, this is that bull. Why is Keisha Cole's greasy crackhead mama Frankie about to star in her OWN reality show? Mmm-hmm, apparently Frankie and Ke-Ke's trashy sister Neffy have flown the coop and landed in their time slot on BET. Uugh.

Jesus be the ebonic subtitles on the bottom of the screen.

Oh and wait on it... apparently Frankie is also "writing" a book tentatively titled, 2 Sides of Every Story. Really??? I swear the definition of the word "writing" just gets broader and broader every day.

don't let the spandex fool ya...

My god when is the summer coming? This cold weather is K-I-L-L-I-N-G me I tell you.

It's gotten so bad, I don't even believe the sunshine when I see it. It's like: yeah, yeah, yeah all them blue skies and rays of light are just trickery to get me to leave my warm and toasty apartment for the frigid outdoors. Damn that. Like I always say, can't nothing good happen below 75 degrees.

On the flipside, in anticipation of the day I actually get to wear a sundress or pair of shorts, I've decided to re-enlist in my local bootcamp workout program- AGAIN ( Yeah, yeah, I know, why in the world would my lazy ass voluntary wake up at 5.30a just to be worked out like an endentured slave for 90 minutes four days a week? Ummm.... cause bootcamp is way cheaper than replacing the cute clothes. And there's nothing uglier than the ill fitting baby-t. Mmm-hmm, exactly.

Thankfully, this program is only three weeks long (as opposed to the normal six week session). So praise the Lord, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Sorta.... Check back in with me next week after we've hit the track to do countless wind sprints and I attempt to run a mile and a half in under twelve minutes.

Pray for me ya'll...

Friday, February 20, 2009

pay upon delivery...

A friend of mine from high school is pregnant with triplets. Yes, you read that correctly- TRIPLETS. As in 3 growing babies inside of 1 (what used to be very small) body. Jesus. Just looking at the ultrasound photo made my uterus hurt. I'm not even kidding you. But wait on it... what's really really nerve wracking is tht they already have a daughter who's not even 2 years old. I know it's Friday so let me help you do the math-that's FOUR kids under the age of THREE in ONE house? I can't even imagine the amount of screaming and crying and dirty diapers... uh-uh. Ain't no way in the world. As far as I'm concerned this girl is a freaking SAINT... And Jesus be a dead battery in the baby monitor.

To be quite honest, like 68% I can easily forsee initiating a vasectomy conversation with my husband/ the father of my kids. Cause once we've reached maximum capacity, haven't I earned the right to enjoy unprotected sex at some point in my life?Not to mention, nobody likes those kind of surprises. No thank you.

As for the 31% of you who don't think you can fix your faces to say anything, I'll check back with you after an unplanned child or two or three. Mmm-hmmm, you know what my old college health professer used to say... It's all fun and games till the bunny dies.

Cause forreal, forreal, what are you gonna do, get back on the pill? Use condoms for the rest of your life? I guess get your tubes tied, huh? No offense but don't you think, it seems a little unfair to carry the total birth control burden in a marriage? I mean, this is more than your jump-off or someone you've been dating for a while, right? And after being pregnant for 9 whole months and actually giving birth, why in the Lord's good name should we be the one to get our tubes tied? Boo.

I say, its time for men to step up and take one for the team. Let's just consider vasectomies the new push tax. And no worries guys, we'll be happy to help you ice it down the morning after.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

ain't nothing wrong w an encyclopedia...

So we've all heard about these shady college recruiters trolling social networking with the sole intention of catching kids in incriminating pictures and subsequently ruining their entire lives, right? You know the trajectory: a promising, all American, straight-A student whose done everything the right way her entire life doesn't get accepted at the school of her choice because of a random topless photo she took with the Mexican pool boy during Spring Break in Cancun. Instead she is forced to stay home, attend a community college and wait tables for book money. Fast forward 5 years and she's now the town drunk who's always hanging out at the local bar talking about how she was voted Prom Queen? Straight tragedy.

But what you know about the Facebook Sabatoge?

Wait on it... that's a new trend where cutthroat teens are now SENDING college recruiters the links to incriminating Facebook photos of their fellow peers just cut down on the competition! Take that, take that!

Mmm-hmm, you know what I think? Hell hath no fury like a stressed out, overachieving teenager trying to get into their first choice school! I thank my lucky stars every damn day that there was no such thing as cell phones, social networking or even an internet when I was in high school. Forreal, forreal.

Cause seriously? As far as I'm concerned, if the grades and extra-curricular are correct, the rest shouldn't even matter. Damn the series of keg parties you and your friends organize in the school parking on Saturday nights. As long as you can sober up, put on a suit, and talk a good game when that snooty recruiter came for the home visit on Sunday evening, you deserve to go to college. This is America goddammit.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009


Um hi. I'm looking for my waistline, have you seen it? It disappeared sometime shortly after August and hasn't been shown any kind of definition since.

I'm beginning to worry because according to the all the damn catalogs and invitations that keep flooding my mailbox, bikini/ wedding season is around the corner. And considering I don't have a baby to blame there's really no excuse for the bulge that insists on making its prescence known over the top of my jeans. Not at all.

So seriously, if you live uptown and belong to NYSC, please holla at the kid. Cause I'm in desperate need of a focused workout buddy to help with the search.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

sounds like a Sarah Palin situation...

Ok, so I'm doing my morning troll thru the headlines and came across this breaking news story about a random 12 year-old British boy named Alfie who "thought it would be a good idea to have a baby" and knocked up some dingbat 14 year-old chick named Chantelle from around his way.

Apparently there's all this shock and outrage because these poor (literally and figuratively) children were unsupervised and having sex at such a young age. And wait on it, now all the girl's neighbors are dry snitching on the parents, talking about, "They let the kids run wild on the street until all hours, they have no control over them." You don't say?

Last time I checked, there were more than enough 13 and 14 year-olds in the United States knocked up or pushing a stroller around the hood. And if the Jerry Springer show's consistent top teir ratings are any indication, there are probably 3x as many undocumented cases in the countless middle America trailer parks.

Call me jaded but exactly what's the big deal here? Maybe it's just a slow news day...

nice to be noticed...

Guess what? Someone (besides my mom and cousin Vee) thinks my moments are entertaining and worth reading. Mm-hmm... According to Tamstyles of the 'Get It Girl Style' blog and I offically made the list for her Top 5 Blogs because MM delivers it to readers 'raw and organic.' That's quite the compliment, huh?

Check out who else made Tam's list here:

education changes lives..

So it turns out that 78% of you guys are more than willing to take a class to improve your oral sex skills. Yay way to show enthusiasm ladies!! I say, more efficient and better blowjob techniques for everyone! But on the forreeal, forreal, I sincerely hope that some of these positive responses came from the men as well (surprise, surprise boys have mitzimoments too). Because lord knows, over the years I've certainly come across more than my fair share of negroes that weren't hitting on nada in the oral department. And that right there is the WORST- all that pulling and tugging and slopping and acting crazy, when the reality is you're just staring at the ceiling wishing it would be the hell over before he tears something important... Mm-hmm, matter of fact, make that the ABSOLUTE WORST.

I'm really curious about the 27% who think that their skills are good enough for what you're trying to do. Okay, bump the word curious; I'm SCARED of ya'll. Cause in the times we live, I don't know if I could just sit back and relax on the skill set I already have. Maybe it's the perfectionist in me but I just think that especially when it comes to 'relations', you're only as good as your last Big-O. So if the classes are available (and they so are:, why not keep reaching for your inner porn star?

*Unless of course your head game is SOSOSOSO tight you can suck a spit ball back into your mouth after shooting it halfway across the room. Then by all means, let me shut da hell up and mind my what? Business.

Friday, February 13, 2009

lather, rinse, repeat...

Oh RayJ. Sigh.

Of all the random low-life folks being given a dating reality show, YOUR dumbass is the one that gets caught up in a paternity suit? Seriously? And to make matters worse, its the chick with the big ass tattoo on her face nicknamed 'Danger'? I can't.
But wait on it... Somehow or another ('cause miracles and mindblowing BJs do really exist), this low-rent Mel B has now managed to become engaged to Nick Cannon's brother, Gabriel. Which brings me to the most shocking part of this post- who da hell knew Nick Cannon even had a brother???
Uugh, it's all so dirty. Excuse me while I go take a shower.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

time to upgrade...

Is it bad that I feel more relieved than not to be single this Valentine's Day? 'Cause it's true. Call me cheap but I don't wanna spend money on anyone besides myself right about now- especially since there's this pair of hot pink mirrored Louboutins that I've been eyeballing like our country is not in a freaking recession and they don't cost more than a month's rent. Sigh.

But if I was caught up in this year's Hallmark holiday craziness, you know what I would be asking for, right?? Some freaking private cooking classes! Mmm-hmmm, you read that right. All Mitzi wants for V-Day is for somebody else to pay for me to turn how to really, really burn in the kitchen.

Don't get it twisted, push come to shove I can handle the must-haves: a juicy steak, succulent salmon, banging fried chicken, etc. But in addition to pleasing the hell out of my own greedy self, I wanna learn how to make that ignorant restaurant level type meal to impress the boys. 'Cause we all know, being able to cook damn near triples your worth on the relationship market.
So if you actually have a loved one or simply love yourself, let me recommend a gift that will keep on giving- private cooking lessons w the Yum Yum Chefs These folks are the TRUTH. They're young, fun and will help you turn it out for under $100 per person, just give them a call. Oh and did I mention they also make these AMAZING cupcakes? Sigh, we LOVE.

Just don't forget to invite me over for dinner afterwards...

Tuesday, February 10, 2009


Yo, what is it with the parental co-sign on the person you're dating? I don't care what anyone says, there's nothing more gratifying than when your mom actually LIKES the person you're sleeping with.

How-some-ever if your mom is anything like mine, that co-sign ain't never come easy. Uh-uh, no maam. For the record, I can count on one hand the number of boyfriends that she's actually liked. Because as she likes to explain, there's a huge difference between tolerating and liking folks. Elsa sure can tolerate a lot of the tom foolery that I bring to her doorstep but that don't mean she likes it- AT ALL.
Needless to say, like 50% of you guys I've learned to date without her approval. Otherwise, I'd probably be miserably married to a certain overweight, pigeon-toed, lame-o, nice guy that I met way back in high school who I could never stand the sight of but LOVED himself Mitzi (insert gagging sound). And where as all I could see were the rolls of fat and beads of sweat, my mom just saw all this unrealized future potential. Good luck.

As for the 50% of you who are willing to jump ship every time you don't get the co-sign, I wish you well. Although admittedly, a mother's foresight is generally 20/20 (cause lord knows our parents probably got into some shit dating back in the 70s). I think sometimes you need to take your lumps and bumps like a man. Otherwise, how will you truly be appreciative when the real thing comes along?

Of course, if I'm still single five years from now, I'll probably have to suck it up and head back to E-Dub with my tail between my legs but till then... I'm going hard.

i'll pay full price, thanks...

Not for nothing, this whole Chris Brown/ Rihanna situation is beyond tragic.

Two of our biggest music stars fighting in the street like a bunch of alley cats? No maam. If you ask me, both of their ill-behaved asses need a quick slap in the back of the head. Like, did you fools not get the memo that we have a Black President? Ya'll ain't the new Ike & Tina or even K-Ci & Mary! Puh-lease pull that shit together- not now but right now!!

And what's really sad is that dude is only 19 years old. Chris is not even old enough to buy liquor and he's already got a quick backhand? Seriously C-Breezy? Is this what you really wanna do? Cause last time I checked, you wasn't nearly hood LIKE THAT. Humph. Well, if folks thought domestic violence amongst the teen and young adult demographic was just a good Tyra Show show topic, clearly you need to think again. It is very real out there....

Friday, February 6, 2009

thank you tinita...

So lemme tell you what had happened...

In true impulsive Mitzi fashion, in the middle of the night, I up and ordered a brown file cabinet from Staples. I mean it wasn't really, really all that impulsive since I've allegedly been redecorating since October. However, I describe it as impulsive because genius that I am, I didn't bother to check the measurements. I was just so relieved to 1) find a brown file cabinet (who knew how hard that color was to locate?) and 2) find it while Staples had a free next day shipping promotion going on, that I figured what the hell? I mean how big could one 2-drawer file cabinet be, right? Right.

Needless to say, the file cabinet arrives a day later and this mo-fu is huge. Huge like it takes up a complete third of my living room. And to make matters worse, its heavy as I don't know what. There's absolutely no way in hell I can just pick it up and take it back to Staples myself. At least not without giving myself a freaking hernia. So you know I'm super stressed out...

In this moment it dawns on me what the absolute worst part of being single is... No, it's not the long nights the week before your period, the lack of companionship during all those annoying couple events or even the crazy dating games we all too often find ourselves caught up in. Yo, forreal, forreal, its the maintenance. Straight up. It's the not having someone to put shit make back together when the little things make me wanna fall apart. From figuring out how to change a lightbulb in the vaulted ceiling to taking out the freaking trash to changing a flat tire on the side of the highway in the middle of the night and yes, getting this big ole stupid bix outta my damn house- I really miss the extra set of capable hands.

I'm telling you, when I finally land a boy worth mentioning, I'm always going to loan him out to all of my friends like books from the library. No questions asked. Cause that there feeling of helplessness is for the birds.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

its a draw...

Why is it that as I get older, dating seems to get more and more complicated? Shouldn't this process have started to figure itself out by now? You know, kinda like making that perfect sunny side up egg...

Here's the thing: on one hand, I've got our girl Beyonce prancing around talking 'bout don't sweat relationships. 'Cause if it was that serious he should've put a ring on it. Word. So I'm taking my time, having lots of fun and doing me. No stress, no mess, just easy like Sunday morning. If I wanna hook-up, then I will. If not, so what. It all depends on how the breeze blows.

But then on the other hand, there are the women who I know in real time (versus the friend in my head) whom despite the odds actually HAVE rings. And according to these divas, unless I'm miraculously going to wake up tomorrow looking like Beyonce, the way to the proverbial 5-carat promised land requires me to settle my lil' independent behind down and get focused. Ain't no Sunday morning breezes round here goddammit!

Now, I'm all for living life to the fullest and being in control of my sexuality but mama knows that she wouldn't mind having that Barack kinda love either. Bottom line: I'm torn.

So like I do with anything I can't figure something out, I open my mouth and ask someone. Or in this case, I posted a poll to see what you all think about this whole dating/ relationship/ sex process. Maybe, just maybe, the numbers would give me some insight to what was working for the majority. Well guess what...

According to the poll, 50% of you guys think that dating, relationships and especially sex should all be generic. If you're feeling it on the first, second or fiftieth date, as long as you're being safe than you're ready to get it on.

While the other 50%, insist on steps, stages and milestones with the whole dating / relationship/ sex process. X-nay on the unplanned interludes in the unisex Bar 59 bathroom for you.

50/50? Huh!?!? So essentially, it can go either way? Geesh. I'm right back where I started. Sigh. I see I'm gonna have to do a more specific poll to get to the bottom of this....

my own personal craigslist...

This is a really random question but when was the last time anyone tried to find a pair of pantyhose? No, I'm not talking tights- lord knows I wear a pair of those damn near every single day during the winter.

When I say pantyhose, I mean honest-to-goodness nude, taupe, sandy beige colored stockings. As in, last seen on a rerun of The Golden Girls... Yeah, I didn't think it was going to be that many.

Well anyhoo, I'm on the hunt for a pair. And I have absolutely no idea what brand makes realistic colors for women of color. Last time I can remember actually wearing a pair that sorta kinda matched was when I spent a summer interning at an investment bank. Mmm-hmm, you can feel free to add that to the list of 25 Random Things You Didn't KNow About Me.

So will someone please point me in the right direction? Brand and retail store specifics... I do not want to waste hours of my life shoving my hand in and out of all those half-hose testers, spend $15 I could use to buy Drama some dog food, only to get home and realize that the sheer sun-kiss almond makes my legs look like those of dead people.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

about to be bigger than the botkier bag..

Okay for all my Gossip Girl obsessed friends, did everybody see that navy brocade skirt that Blair was wearing for the majority of the show last night? HOT. Well turns out that it's actually a piece from this really exclusive French line called BGN of which my BGB (bestest gay boyfriend) since our more scandalous days at FAMU, Geoffrey Payton happens to be the North American Sales Director. Mmm-hmmm...

So you know as soon as I found that out I had to put a call in to try and work something out (cause that's what we folks do). And it turns out that the new spring line is here and popping! Unfortunately, its waaaay out of the kid's budget at the moment, but please feel free to check it out. At least you'll be able to spot the pieces the next time you see them on the pages of US Weekly and whatnot.

Oh and don't say I ain't never put you up on nothing!

michelle ain't wearing mismatched drawers...

Okay I have to take a moment to shout out one of my friends that making the magic happen despite all the drama and confusion going on with this unstable economy... my girl Melissa.

After I don't know how many years of talking about her love (borderline obsession) of beautiful lingerie and putting my cotton 3-pack loving behind up on to some of the best places to cop cute undies on a budget( anyone?), last Thursday Melissa's e-commerce site Dames And Broads, finally went live. WOO HOO!!!
Based on her belief that women have a God given right to look and feel sexy each day (can I get an amen?), Dames and Broads is designed to bring affordable, decadent and wearable internationally designed lingerie to the masses. Read: for all ya'll who are three steps above Victoria Secret but not exactly ready to part with La Perla cash.
So feel free to finally toss that pair of period drawers with the snapped elastic wasitband in the trash and step your sexy up. You know, Michelle would want you to!

Monday, February 2, 2009

you can bet on that...

Okay seriously? These pinktoes are outta hand, you hear me? Let a little economy crunch come along and they can't handle the stress AT ALL. Just turning on each other like a barrell of crabs, I tell you.

Why did 'ole girl show up to her own sister's wedding reception UNINVITED and then proceed to WHOOP that ass in front of family and guests??? I'm talking old school style- she dragged her sister to the ground, punched her in the head and proceeded to rip out tufts of hair for good measure!
Cause the Lord knows I love Maury as much as the next trash TV obsessed viewer but this right here is damn near beyond Jerry Springer/ trailer park/ coal miner's daughter type behavior.
Not for nothing, $5 says the sister's new husband is Annemarie's ex-boyfriend/ good for nothing baby daddy. And he probably forgot to tell her that they were broken up. Mmm-hmmm, don't trip. You know you were thinking the same exact thing...

like whiplash...

Yo, karma is the truth. Even as all signs were pointing to a no-go for my speaking engagement at Sojourner Truth Middle School last Wednesday- blizzard, bad hair, and oh yeah, the fact that I had no idea why a bunch of middle school kids would give two cents about what I do for a living since I'm not Beyonce or dating Chris Brown.

But instead of opting out, I just thought to myself, 'What Would Michelle Do?' and I kept it moving. (You like that, right?)

Well, not only did I end up having a great time with the kids- Lord knows there's no bigger ego boost than winning over group of pre-teens whose parents sent them to school on a snow day- BUT later on in the day I received an email from my editor at Scholastic. And guess what?

HOTLANTA has offically been selected for not one but TWO of the American Library Association's 2008 top teen book lists: Quick Picks For Reluctant Readers and Popular Paperbacks (fame &fortune category)!!! Which means- drumroll, please- school librarians nationwide think my teen book series is the fire!!

WOO HOO! Go Mitzi, get busy! Go Denene, it's ya birfday! WOO HOO!

So if you haven't already copped your copy of HOTLANTA or it's sequel, IF ONLY YOU KNEW, now is the time! At $8.99, cheap as hell as a fantabulous read.