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Eat The Booty Like Groceries?

24 Feb

So, this conversation happened.

“Sonya how was your Valentines Day? Did you enjoy it?”

Me: yes it was good

As I walk away I hear

“You spent it alone?” *A bit of shade included*

I turned around and said

“no.”

And as I continue to walk off I heard

“did he eat the booty like groceries?”
……..

Now, while I know it was inappropriate, I was NOT offended. However I don’t understand why eating the booty like groceries has become the in thing. Don’t get me wrong I’m not judging anyone. What you do in the comfort of your bedroom is your own business. To each his own.

Butt But, Analingus, is not my idea of fun. I remember in elementary and middle school, the common, insult or retort was “you eat bOOty!” or “you toss salads!”

Now it’s like the cool thing to rap about. For example, today alone I heard these lyrics on the radio.

“Try to beat me there, let me be clear Is you eatin’ ass too? Nigga, pinky swear”

“He said, “Would I let him eat this ice cream, out my ass crack?””

I do wonder however if it’s actually really common or if it’s just in rap songs. And more so, why is it so cool to rap about? Have you noticed how much it’s being discussed?

Invictus

23 Feb

This poem, by William Ernest Henley, is inspiring. It brings forth and influences peace for me. I hope the same for you.

“Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul.”

Be Kind Or Be Quiet… Sometimes

21 Feb

It’s funny how people change when they are on the phone versus when you’re there in person. When the anonymity disappears. When you respond to their snarky slick comment with a easy toned “okay, thanks” and then pop up on them with an expression like “Hi! You said what now? Now what was that you said?” But you keep your tone professional, welcoming.

Be Kind Or Be Quiet… Sometimes

Flash Back Friday

19 Feb

When I was a child, living in Memphis, I played outside a lot. From the ages of 7 to maybe 13 I was riding bikes and walking barefooted in the dirt and grass.

Spending summers in cut offs, making toys from rope and sticks, throwing rocks, drinking water from green garden hoses, constructing stick homes in the crevices formed by the roots of the giant oak trees, catching lightening bugs, collecting earthworms after rain storms, playing in the rain letting my cotton candy thick wavy puffy hair swell to its full expansion, being one with the outdoors, being a southern kid. Countless mosquito bites, scrapes, cuts, bruises and one pair of brand new Levis torn in the crotch from jumping a fence…my Mother decided she’d had enough. “This has to stop!” She told me. “You can’t keep tearing up clothes and coming home cut up. You’ll be a young lady soon. You don’t want to be covered in scars. No more skateboard, no more rollerblading.” I didn’t feel all that upset. Or at all really. I just accepted it. I felt really bad for destroying those Levis and Skateboarding was hard anyways. Plus, I didn’t like all the bruises either.

She signed me up for softball and basketball instead…. I didn’t feel bad enough about destroying all those new clothes to pretend I liked these sports. And I NEVER went to basketball practice. Ever.

Monkey did the shimmy? Wine Day

19 Feb

In honor of National Wine Drinking Day (FB said so) and new questions for old things, I’m wondering…

Did yall used to sing this when you were little?

Once upon a time
a Goose drank wine
the Monkey did the shimmy

on the streetcar line
the line broke
the Monkey got choked
and they all went to heaven ‘cept the Billy Goat

Tonight as I was saying this rhyme, I thought “the Monkey got choked huh? After doing the shimmy? Hmmm” I hope this isn’t a hidden meaning. I know in England as a kid, adults called children monkeys as a term of endearment. But here in the states, calling a black or brown child a “little monkey” is not sweet and carries racial undertones.

Hopefully the same is not true for this song I’ve been singing all my life.

And no, I didn’t actually drink any wine. I thought about it and my body said “I KNOW you lying” so instead, I had organic non-gmo cranberry juice cut with apple juice & no sugar added.

It was red, and the juice of fruit, so it’s like wines chill cousin. Close enough.

You Said What Now?

8 Feb

I think you are allotted around 7 questions or less from men before you are deemed “crazy”

1.Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: No
Them: No!?
2.Do you have a girlfriend??
Me: No.
Them: Oh.
3. So you friend zoning all these dudes?
Me: No I’m not friend zoning everybody.
Them: Sound like you friend zoning to me.
Me: I’m not.
4.Do you have any children?
Me: No. No babies
5. Do you have any pets??
Me: no I don’t.
Them: *yikes faces* translates to “this bish is crazy”

Mane

7 Feb

Today’s post is a K.I.S.S, Keeping It Super Simple.

Mane Tees:

“MANE an alternative way of saying “man”; Phrase most commonly used in MEMPHIS Tennessee; Used before and after a sentence to emphasize a point”

Check them out.

http://manetshirts.com/index.php/the-why

PhotoGrid_1454736476503

 

The Distance Between Us… too?

3 Feb

With his brown skin and characteristics undoubtedly descended from the African Diaspora, he stands before me and tells me that “I don’t date black women”

their attitudes are too bad
and their hair is nappy and kinky

not pretty and silky
they have kinks not curls

He continues on, and on, and on….

*In my thoughts*
Sonya, don’t speak. Don’t, as not to create more distance between us as a whole. But really the distance in support is there already. The dialogue creates discomfort and exposes a dissonance. It is not creating a distance. But the conversation is needed to change this.

His words seep between my placid placed expressions, waving away my inner dialogue, and I hear him say

“But not you Sonya. You’re different. You aren’t really like BLACK girls. You’re pretty and you’re smart. And you look mixed! You have nice pretty hair. You’re well spoken and I like your color, even if you aren’t light skinned.”

“Do you date white dudes? I could see you with a white dude. Yall would probably get along. Is your Mom white?….”

My stream of thoughts are triggered in, and I can no longer hear him. Voices of words once spoken return to me. Visitation. “You need to stop trying to find a black man.” “They don’t do right.” “Statistically there aren’t enough for ALL of you to have one. Somebody gotta get something else” “Step out of the box. Choose another color” “Why are you only dating black men!? Ugh. That’s why you’re single” “You’re close minded. Everybody can’t have chocolate babies”

But…. Outsides aside, I need a different kind of support. The world is tough enough. I am not in the business of recruiting naysayers. I need someone with faith SO strong, He can believe in me and my dreams. So strong, he can see me in the places that I will one day be. So strong that his masculinity is not defined by society, weak & stuffed with bravado….

Goddess, he calls me. I Love, your spirit. I love your complexion. You’re beautiful. You’re intelligent. I believe you will accomplish you dreams. I will continue to support you in your pursuits. I will keep encouraging u, til the sky falls.

He speaks Life into me.

He speaks positivity into my life.

The Distance Between Us… too far to exist as one in harmony? No.

Henna

2 Feb

Henna art is one of my favorite things. I imagined for a while, having a piece done from my shoulder to my hip. So I got it! Here are the some of the photos, the ones that I could find. I’ve held on to them for long enough.23

Henna Art

21 20 19 18 17 16 10 9 8 7 2 1

Henna

#LetMeShareMyPiece #MyFavoriteThings

 

 

Peace and Blessings

30 Jan

“Peace and Blessings manifest with every lesson learned”

A change in perspective can mean a shift in direction. The same happenings can produce a different outcome. “Every obstacle is an opportunity to use your power” View your trying circumstances, unfortunate happenings, or any obstacle you encounter as a stepping stone. Each circumstance is in fact an opportunity for growth and development.

Through practice, it offers the environment to gain wisdom and STRETCH you. Which is essential to your success. Strength with flexibility is ideal. You are strong enough to hold on and flexible enough to bend, but not break. Strong enough to hold on to your convictions, and flexible enough to bend & gain a deeper understanding.  Enriching your overall experience and understanding. Allowing you to become enlightened. This offers insight into the phrase “what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.”

With the right outlook what could be viewed simply as an overwhelming amount of obstacles, could also be seen as a powerful force propelling you to greater success. The blessing is not in the bad happening, the blessing is in the opportunity for growth within or surrounding the situation of the bad/ unfortunate happening. It may in fact be your strength training and you may in fact need that strength in the place that you are purposed to be. Which may well be rapidly approaching, and the universe is giving you exactly the course you NEED to be strong enough for your calling.

Hold tight.