Phoenix Rising

Beware the Ides of March

I really do get a kick out of the kids. So, I introduced each class with a classic line from Julius Caesar. Although my ninth graders don't read the play, I do like to give them little tidbits to go on with. When I asked if anyone was familiar with the line one darling child said "Yeah, that's when Caesar got shanked MAD times!" Ummm, something like that. Anyway... I should have been aware of my own ides of March...

Bosom Buddies, Odd Couple, Three's Company, etc. so on and so forth. All shows with grown ass people living with other grown ass people. I don't know about you but i come from the school of get your own damn apartment, house whatever. If you aren't in college, grown ass folks living together is trifling. Anyway, this falls under my ides of March because my good girlfriend is ready to make the leap from MD back to MA and she wants to bunk with a sista for a few. Ummm, so not a good idea. I'm territorial about my space. It's better for the friendship for me to be really honest rather than have her come here and we fall out.  So I'll take a pass...

Here I Come VA?...I may be making Arlington, VA my home but it's all very much up in the air. You'll know when I do.

It's All Because of You: So we're in the house because of a stinky snowstorm blowing the house down by the sounds of it. I'm channel surfing and come across Ne-Yo's video for Because of You. The song is OK, Michael Jackson Off the Wall OK, if you get my drift. Apparently Ne-Yo gets it too because he was inspired MJ in the video. All was well until i noticed neither video hoe was Black. And that negro got a lot of nerve with his back to Africa nose and lips. But hey, I guess we can just chalk that up to him being the boy that got no pussy in high school so it's Revenge of the Awkward Looking all the way.

On another note: You must be 5 foot 0 to be a video hoe in Musiq's joints. That brother is petite. I saw him in concert a few times and he wore this coverall circa '87. I told my sister she used to have one just like it when she was 5. She wore it every day.  The shit had forefather of NASCAR decals all on it. Anyway, I do like his single BUDDY and the CD. I was minding my business and the cuddlebunny dropped it off to school for me.

Negro Geography: Why Jesus Why must Black folks play the Negro geography game when they see other Black folks? I was in the middle of a class when a gentleman knocked on the door wanting to speak with me about a student.  After I gave this brother the PROPER time to come back, we spoke aboke the student and I assumed our business was concluded. NOPE.  he then wanted to play the where you go to college, what you pledge, where you from, who you know game. #1 cuz, that is highly inappropriate in our setting #2 i let you know if you are a candidate #3 back the fuck UP. Figured he'd be one of those prissy Northeastern kids. Dude I don't care where you got your master's.

Upgrade U: It's no secret. I love a well turned out man. One that looks like he's acquainted with an iron, dry cleaner and a tailor. But he has to stop one short of being a complete metrosexual. Not a damn thing wrong with sweats and crisp air force ones. Fresh line ups and a nice scent. And take care of yourself. Adult onset acne is nothing a little pro-activ won't knock out. Sorry, I just saw Young Jeezy. damn his face is a mess.

T 13 days and counting til the big 30.....

To My Valentine...

**NOTE: I tried to post this yesterday, but TypePad was menstruating. Cheers.**

Happy Valentine's Day! Not that love should be regulated to one commercial holiday, but I hope there is lots of love in your lives and you have someone cozy to snuggle up to tonight. I'm getting ready for my date, but i wanted to spread some love in the blogosphere. My valentine's day has a theme courtesy of Corinne Bailey Rae. When a man takes your work out of your lap, pulls you up to dance in the middle of the bedroom, while kissing your face AND singing to you...well use your damn imagination.

Just like a star across my sky,
Just like an angel off the page,
You have appeared to my life,
Feel like I'll never be the same,
Just like a song in my heart,
Just like oil on my hands,
Oh.. I do love you,

Still I wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

You've got this look I can't describe,
You make me feel like I'm alive,
When everything else is a fade,
Without a doubt you're on my side,
Heaven has been away too long,
Can't find the words to write this song,
Oh.,..
Your love,

Still I wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

I have come to understand,
The way it is,
It's not a secret anymore,
'cause we've been through that before,
From tonight I know that you're the only one,
I've been confused and in the dark,
Now I understand,

I wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
I wonder why it is,
I wont let my guard down,
For anyone but you
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

Just like a star across my sky,
Just like an angel off the page,
You have appeared to my life,
Feel like I'll never be the same,
Just like a song in my heart,
Just like oil on my hands

Y'all Think I Forgot?

OK, I almost did....

I drove 45 minutes away from home to cast my ballot for this man. I worked the phone bank for him. And y'all know I hate calling muhfuckas. In addition to being the only candidate the BTU has endorsed in umpteen years, i actually believe what he says. Then i sat up all night watching the returns on NECN. Sam Cooke said it...A Change is Gonna come.

Oh, and fuck Kerry Healey. Supercilious bitch.

Ladies and Gentlemen...

Please meet the father of my future cracka kids.

You all may go back to your regularly scheduled bullshit.

It's A Small World After All

For the Memorial Day weekend, the young one and I, his godmother, her mother and her daughter all headed down to sunny Kissimmee to do the damn thing that is known as Disney. I'ver never been and I figured that 8 years old was old enough for my son to really appreciate the trip (and the kind of money you have to come up off to ride or die at Disney).

Our flight down was pretty uneventful. My son was hyped beyond belief. We got to FL at about 1:30. We'd already planned to do the full day Disney excursion the following day, so we were gonna party and bullshit for the rest of the night. We stayed at this really family friendly place called the Seralago. While it was inherently low-budget, the location was central and they had two really nice pool areas. The hotel was next to a Red Lobster (YES!) and a small amusement park called Olde Towne. There was also a mini golf course Pirate's Cove (where y'alls girl Phoenix shot a few nifty holes-in-one). And a bunch of restaurants that had 3.99 breakfast buffets. I was in heaven. If I wasn't with the kids, Olde Towne would have been the spot. Cheap drinks...and public drinking?! Olde Towne was filled with all kinds of stores. Stores with confederate flags draped over the merchandise. They sold guns, knives...and ninja stars. Do y'all know how bad I wanted a ninja star?! When my road rage activated, I could just imagine flinging it out the window. Anyway, my son and I did some of the rides at Olde Towne. He's a pretty fearless kid.

After we ate, we suited up and did the pool. Which was marred after one little cracka kid told the other one not to play with my friend's daughter because he doesn't like Black people. He was 3. I do applaud my friend because while I would have opened a can of whup ass on said kid, she embarrassed the hell out of his mother. All very nicely. They ended up leaving the pool area.

Disney. All i have to say is I take my hat off to the muthafucka that invented and maintains this behemoth. Everything about Disney is so meticulously planned, right down to the fact that I saw NOT ONE BUG while I was inside that park. People control where you park. No circling to look for a closer spot. Then you take a tram to buy your ticket. Then you take the monorail to the main gate that lets you in. But you don't get in without being fingerprinted. As soon as we get in Mickey and Minnie stroll by and we queue up to take pictures with them. COOL.

We walk in and I see Cinderella's castle, I am in awe. It was just so cool. And i was getting such pleasure from my son's obvious happiness. The one drawback...it was hotter than the seventh circle of hell. I mean, it was impossible to look good or keep up any semblance of excitement...unless you were 12 and under. I mean I was sucking down $4 waters faster than you could imagine. And then sweating it right back out. All the adults looked limp and poor. We spent a full workday in Disney and didn't even see the whole park or ride most of the attractions.

We plan on doing it again, but this time we want to stay at a Disney resort and only do the park after 6. All in all, it was a good trip.

Cinco de Mayo, Bitches!

Pass me a muhfuckin' Corona!

OK, not really. Anyway, bless the weekend one more time. This has been one of those weeks. Three interviews, zero jobs, one bitchy evaluation later, I am ready for a stiff drink and an ever stiffer, uh, well... whatever.

My practicum ends the 10th, I'm quite sad about it. The kids are priceless. And fitting the Rockinginest Teacher ever, I get to have three going away parties. One for each class.  I'll actually miss having somewhere to go daily. I guess I can catch up on my office renovations and Judge Mathis. Anyway, the countdown to my big graduation and graduation bash approacheth. My dad and the baby sister are making the trip from Ohio. It should be good times all around... well as long as he and my mom are kept apart. Things are really just that hectic.

I've been trolling the internet; I see that more 'net whores are on myspace. LOL. I just CANNOT do it. I can't. No way jose. I know a lot of my pals have their self-promotion spots. I'm just not ready to go there. I briefly did classmates and those other bullshit keep-in-touch sites, then I realized that I truly don't give a fuck. Anyone I want to stay in touch with knows how to find me and vice versa.

Anyway, more polite musings from your girl Phoenix:

Who is this supercillious bitch? Call me crazy, but if you carry a little leech inside of you for nine months, then you get to name the lil bastard whatever you want. Them's the rules. I don't care. I may not like it, I may laugh at you kid's name, but I laugh at everything, including the handicapped. Personally, I told PS that whenever we procreate, I'm gonna name the lil bugger after an inanimate object. You know, kinda like those gender neutral names... so far I like Bookshelf, Dresser (middle name Drawer), Radiator... you all see where I am going with this right? Anyway, this lady is going on and on and on and on about some bullshit. The same thing can be said for anything that is not a part of the dominant culture. First it's name, then hair...and hey why not try some Ambi for that black ass skin? Fuck off.

I'm going to DisneyWorld! That's right, me and Phoenix Jr. are headed down to sunny Florida for the Memorial Day weekend. We're gonna have such wicked fun. I already have my plane and poolside books. (purchased from Costco. Costco fucking rocks! Where else can you get books, food, name brand clothes and a delicious hot dog all in one place?!)

After Disney, My award tour doesn't end... then I head to sunny Jamaica. Right now, it looks like me and PS are sleeping on the beach.  With the monkeys. It would make my millenium if a monkey attacks PS. Just picturing a monkey jumping on him is making my tummy hurt...with laughter. Oh...and I like monkeys.

That Naughty Opal! By now, i'm sure we all know about poor Kaavya V. and the worst case of plagiarism EVER. I actually came across a pretty good editorial by Mark Morsford over at SF Gate. Whenever the bitchiness is out of control, Mr. Morford attempts to set the universe straight.

When the fuck does Commander in Chief come on? I've been buying episodes from iTunes. That shit is getting old. Speaking of that, I need a travel charger for my iPod. I'll have to keep the boy occupied on the plane and during the layovers.

Oh well, times getting away from me. I've got essays to grade and F's to give. peace.

"I'm a Wolf, Bitch...You See Me Coming!"

The words above were spoken by none other than Ms. New York, the front runner and my personal favorite to win Flavor's heart. I think I may just have to adopt that as my personal mantra. Fuck what you heard.

Forgive me. I'm suffering. Truly I am. What will I do for sick pleasure when Flava chooses the love of his life on Sunday? (VH1 noon EST and replays at 10 EST) Oh goodness, I'm shaking. From somewhere this show crept up on me and invaded my conciousness. I actually dreamt about Flava last weekend. What was mosty disturbing was the fact that several well known Civil Rights leaders came back from the dead and asked "this is what we sacrificed for?!" It was all very Aaron McGruder like.  And I was ashamed for three tenths of a sceond. 

Then Flava called.

This must be what crack is like. Never since Being Bobby Brown has a show grabbed hold of my heart and just won't let go. I mean, I'm checking blogs, looking at these whore's myspace pages (i told y'all myspace is the debbil!) BTW - if you want a good recap blog, look no further than Ron Mexico over at SOHH.com Talkin' Videos. He is truly a funny bastard.  Obviously, I'm not the only one that thought so.  Mieko aka Cherry, a broad who Flava cut from the rip, has been passing his recaps off as her own on her myspace page (once again, like Jim Jones, myspace is the debbil!) The funniest shit is that homeboy called her on it in such a fantastic manner.

Anyway, last week's episode left most of us still steaming over the audacity of Pumkin hocking a looey right in NY's grill. Survey says: That was some utterly cracka shit to do. If you close enough to spit, then you are close enough to clock a chick upside her head, right? The worst is that Pumkin is being bigged up for her trailer trash actions by other crackas via her myspace page. You gotta be shittin' me?! NY should have worn her ass out. I mean stop the violence and all but she shoulda beat that whore til her knuckles were bloody.

Skills Wraps Up 2005

A Ghetto Tradition... sit back and get your laugh on.

Ban Those Kids!

I was watching the news the other night and there was this nice little piece about some restaurant owners in the Boston area putting sins on their doors or disclaimers in their menus that basically said if you're kids don't know how to fucking act, well, then you aren't welcome here. And of course, some bored ass stay at home moms organized some email campaigns to boycott these fine establishments.

I'd just like to say, if these bitches stayed off their email, then they could probably put some more work into disciplining their children so that they aren't running around acting like little assholes in restaurants.

The part that kills me is that the intent of the owners is not to make ALL children welcome. No, kids are fine. It's the little Connor's, Meghan's and Takwanesha's screaming at the top of their lungs, running around doing Indian, umm excuse me, Native American war dances, and snatching food off of other patron's plates that constitutes the problem.  Your child is fine if the little bastard can sit down and eat like a member of the human race. Well, if he/she can't...then get a doggy bag and stop torturing everyone else.

Believe me, I understand kids. I have one. A pretty good one I might add. Max 1.0 is operating fine with occassional ass-whippings in order to keep his hard drive updated. And Max and I have been out when he decided to act like Rosemary's Baby. And you know what I did? Packed up my food, got the check and bounced. Really, it's embarrassing to be out with your child and he's acting a fool. Plus, what right do i have really to make a whole restaurant full of people suffer? I don't want to hear it and I birthed the little fucker. I can only imagine what a stranger is saying.

So yes parents...I understand your need to get out, and feel normal and not be constricted because you have a child at home. Great. Fine. Get a sitter. Or Super fucking Nanny, because I do believe some of these crazy ass kids will be the next school shooters. But other than that, stop trying to think you can take your kids ANYWHERE. You CAN'T. Life changes when you have kids. Adjust. Do you know how aggravating it is to be in an 11:15pm movie, and there is a baby crying? Yes. A baby. At the movies. At damn near midnight. Are you really THAT desperate to be out?! And motherfuckas really believe that it is their Oprah given right to be out fucking up everyone else's night, with their bad ass kids.

So take a moment, stop look around.  If that noise you hear is your own child, then yes I'm talking to you. And if you keep bringing that little noisemaker around and it disturbs my meal. Well, I get to beat your kids. It's only right.

Music Makes Me High

Isn't it funny how you can hear a song and it transports you back in time?  You remember where you were when you heard it, what you were doing and who you were with. So I'm in the car, tuned to my Sirius Backspin station (i really need to write a post about how much i loooove my satellite radio!) Anyway, I'm rolling along and the play "Tootsie Roll". Now, usually, I wouldn't say this is a song to get excited about but I was taken back to my senior year of high school. Moving from Boston to Cincinnati the summer before my senior year was less traumatic then I thought it would be. I acclimated pretty quickly.  Coming from a diverse exam school to a straight up Eastside High clone...well that shit was the bomb. More Black folks than you could shake a stick at. Anyway, I joined the cheerleading team.  Crisp fall nights, football games, halftime show. Halftime show like at a HBCU halftime show. Cheerleaders, drill tream, flag corp and the band all joined together and ripped shit to...you guessed it...Tootsie Roll. There was also a Doo Doo Brown breakdown. Good times, man, good times.