Girl, U So Dirty!

Kids, I need to take a shower. The lack of full-time job has compromised my hygene. I've got to get back on a regular schedule. I admit this because there's no sense in walking around with wavy smell lines and clouds of dust (think: Pig-Pen) radiating from my hair, underarms and lady parts. It's shameful. It's rude. It's soo not cute. Wearing the same outfit for three and a half days is borderline offensive. Seriously, someone needs to give me a citation.

I pretend like the greasiness from my hair is 'shine.' When I reach over to pick something up, the scent of stale deodorant wafts into my nostrils. I feel the wind breeze through my boyish-length leg hairs when I walk around the house in shorts. That's IF I get out of bed and out of my sweats before 3 p.m. I need an intervention. Where are my friends and loved ones sitting around me, tearfully choking on their words as they read heartfelt letters expressing concern for the cleanliness of my coochie? Where are Ken, Jeff and Candy? Where is my gift?

It's okay. I can kick this habit on my own. I'll do better; I promise.

Girl, How U Like Them Apples???

"A revolutionary woman can't have no reactionary man. If he's not about liberation, if he's not about struggle, if he ain't about building a strong Black family, if he ain't about building a strong Black nation, then he ain't about nothing." -- Assata Shakur

Girl, U So Pro Nails!

Jockin' my fresh -- jockin', jockin' my FRESH.
My take on the pseudo, watered-down Afro Punk movement among teens I affectionately call "Colorful Fashions."
I always get compliments on my creative adventures as they pertain to beauty and fashion.
On what do people compliment you most?

Girl U So Introspective: A New Day

I posted this as my Facebook status yesterday and I will post it again here. Because I want to be CLEAR:
"From Sept to Sept, I've been burdened, scared, devastated, dead, unstable, angry, disappointed, confused. I confronted the devil & won, yet still learning to trust God again. I've felt a lonliness you can't imagine, yet have never been so proud & full of promise. I've failed; crashed and burned. But I will tell you this: from these ashes, a phoenix will rise. A being more graceful, more powerful than my former self."

THANK YOU AND GOOD MORNING...

Girl, U so Wise!

I moved to Dallas in January, only to move back home in September after losing my job before the three month mark. The number one thing I learned was:
Wait ninety-ONE days before you brang yo' sh*t to another state!!!

(See the post below)

Just wanted to pass on that little pearl of wisdom, chil'ren! Now, let me go get ready to snap for the kids!

Shira, U So SugarFree!

Y'all know I am obsessed with YouTube. It's to the point where YouTube is getting all Mariah on me, trying to front me out like, "Girl, why u so obsessed wit me?!" I was wailing that chorus. Yes I was, girl; yes I was. Don't judge me.

...ANYWAY...

You know what, I like this girl's style. Random, scatterbrained, chatty & she drops pearl of wisdom every time. I love it!

Go watch SugarFree TV, fool.

Girl U So Important!

Oh, the joys of Twitter. And in honor of such a wonderful microblogging institution, I will bow in reverence and twitterize this post!

Twtr's so great. I luv that I can fllw celebs & c thr tweets + talk 2 my real life ppl. Twtr hlped me use mac's "smmrze txt" option n txt edt.

Okay, enough of that. I feel like I'm 14 years old. Let me tell you what I REALLY think of Twitter. It's an addictive little site that educates you on the fine art of gracefully stalking people. Groupies get it IN and collect athlete's phone numbers like pubic lice. Celebs tweet every ten minutes (read: DIDDY) and expect you to give a damn! And worst of all, it makes average Joes with no social life whatsoever, think that whatever corny crap they're doing on the couch while watching Dancing with the Stars is of the utmost importance.

SMH!

Twitter is evil. Evil, evil. No one cares that you're is stopped up on the pot. No one cares that you just left the vet and Muffy is sore from her vaccines. No one cares that you just got a haircut. And most of all, not one person cares that you're on Twitter!! Oh, and while we're talking about being on Twitter, follow me!

Girl, U So Free-Spirited!!

I thought the freedom of not having a job would be fun. It's not. I am getting desperate, panicky, and thinking about tricking myself out at Bone Daddy's or Twin Peaks. I haven't slept in weeks and I get irritated when my gainfully employed pals can't join me for a walk around the mall at 1:30 in the afternoon or for a late lunch at 2:15. Or, better yet, when they can't stay up past 10:45p.m. because they have to be up at six to be on time for work at nine!

Blasphemy, I say!

Not having a job has its perks. I don't have to worry about asking off in order to do hoodrat stuff with my friends; I can wake up when I feel like it; and I can come and go when I please! You know, now that I think about it, this lavish life (I mean, minus the inflow of cash) sounds a lot like freelancing. Maybe I need to take that up!

Girl, Why U Tryna be Cute?

I swear, I need to stop wearing cheap shoes. And I'm not being snobby when I say cheap, I mean cheap like, $6.99-unboxed-held-together-with-a-ziptie-on-sale-at-the-juniors'-store cheap. I was trying to be 'Girl U So Cute' in a casual dining restaurant in my fashion frugal teal high heels.

Walking from my booth to the bathroom wasn't a problem; I even got a little swagger in my step on the way back to the table.

So when I stood up to leave and grabbed my to-go container and that's when I felt the ball of my foot slide across the wood laminate flooring like I honoring MJ with a Moonwalk. My heel skid to the left, to the left. And, I almost fell. Thank Jesus from Nazereth that I didn't bust my butt in the middle of a crowed restaurant on a weekend night!

Let this be a lesson to you ladies given to you at my expense.

That is all.

Girl, U So Stylish!

Though the leggings trend is on its way out, my vision still being wronged on a daily basis. There are so many fashion offenders and victims that fall by the wayside as a result of this fad that I often ask the Lord, "Why has thou forsaken me!?! What did I do wrong to deserve having this nylon-spandex atrocity dance before my eyes?"

Don't get me wrong. There are times that leggings as spandex pants look good. Real good. Megan Good, good. But the realities of life don't allow me to enjoy a view like that. I'm stuck watching a Mary Gordon instead of a Megan Good; a Holly Bear instead of Halle Berry. Why?

Why, why, why?

I saw a woman earlier today with a cute sweater and boots on, paired with those damned leggings. It would have been acceptable had she not been shaped like an apple with two straws sticking out of the bottom. And, that wasn't even the worst part. What is even more disturbing than leggings on the wrong body type are leggings that the wearer isn't aware that the "pants" are more like "pantyhose" and that I can see straight through said leggings down to the granny panties, Spanx, or God forbid, butt pads, beneath them.

Ladies, stop it.

That is all.