Rental Units

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST WILL BE OFFENSIVE TO MANY PEOPLE WHO CONSIDER THEMSELVES GOOD PARENTS.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. And I’m about to agree with that notion. The first thought that comes to mind is the African village from the movie “Roots” where there were tons of close-knit people living in separate huts. Each hut family was a part of the bigger family which was the village. Now I don’t know if Hut #2 could whoop the kids in Hut #7, or if Hut #3 arranged marriages with Hut #9. But everything in my gut tells me that these people at least had each other’s back: they went to the lake (or whatever) together for water, Kunta’s mom shared recipes with the aunt in Hut #6, and no White man was gonna sneak in at night without somebody screaming. I believe all of this to be true!

Here we are now in weak ass 2012 (ask me later on why I hate this life and much rather be partying with MJ) and the family unit still exists in some capacities. Personally, I have a huge net of folks who have my back when I need, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Not one time has my Granny not answered the phone when I called unless she was out getting cigarettes. Not one time did a cousin cry out for anything, and some aunt/uncle didn’t figure out a way to make it happen. And please believe we’re coming with guns & knives that might land us in jail really harsh words for anybody who ‘jumps stupid.’ That is what family is for.

But something happened along the way for me…just speaking for me… and I seem to have lost a couple of MAJOR members of this supposed family unit. And I can’t fucking believe it.

One of them we’ll call Stapleton. He’s a gotdamn idiot in all aspects of the word. No brain exists inside his skull. He has continuously made mistakes throughout his crummy life and runs from the consequences. And is still running!

Another member of this unit is perhaps the one who lets me down the most. I don’t know how many times we have to fight, kiss, then make-up, but I’m sick of that shit, too. For real. “Sorry” loses it’s connotation when you say it more than once and it pertains to the same situation. If the only (late working) employee gets your order wrong at White Castle [sorry], then corrects it and drops it to the floor before bringing it to you [sorry], THEN makes the same incorrect order yet again [sorry], how long before you say fuck it, I wanted McNuggets anyway??? My point exactly.

Pay attention folks–it’s about to get good.

Before I continue this rant, I must admit that I have no children. Never bore any, never conceived any. So I am not a parent in any sense of the word until I can claim Mona The Mazda on my income tax return. But I can probably tell you what a parent is NOT all day and all night. Still got your attention? Shall we?

1) A parent doesn’t put the needs of others before their children. The child comes first.

2) A parent doesn’t run away when shit hits the fan. Run away from a bad date or Freddy Krueger, but not your problems.

3) A parent listens to the needs of their children then responds accordingly. (Good ex: teenager needs help with Algebra, you find a tutor. Bad ex: teenager needs help with Algebra, you find a psycho-therapist. PROBLEM: you weren’t listening and completely missed the point.)

4) A parent should not use their child’s name/identity to open store card or credit card accounts. Grow the fuck up.

5) A parent wants to see their child succeed and become an adult who is not dependent on them. This is a helluva lot different than pushing the child away. Don’t do that.

6) A parent gives their child advice based on their own experiences so the child can hopefully not make the parent’s mistake. The parent also listens to the shit they say themselves because they can learn from it.

7) A parent does not monetize their relationship with the child (re-read that & think about it). They should teach them about money and it’s value, and learn from that shit as well.

8) A parent should provide a stable environment in which the child will grow.

9) A parent is an adult, therefore should act like one.

alright i’m done.

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Golden Gates And Egg Drop Soup

It’s your typical, bustling Tuesday afternoon in downtown San Francisco. Seventeen pedestrians on every corner, horns honking at bikers in the intersection, and lines for lunch out the door. I’m smarter than all the downtown lunchers because I call in my order 20 minutes in advance, plus I don’t bike. Score!

As I strolled into the closest Chinese buffet, I stood in line behind at least 3 other “smart” people who phoned their order before me. Crap. So I’m stuck in line after all. Just as I get ready to have a bitch-fit about why my Egg Drop soup isn’t ready (don’t they make it in the morning then just scoop it from a bucket anyway?), three handsome men get in line next to me. Let’s call them Bachelors #1, 2, & 3.

Bachelor #1 looks about 28, 6’1″, and caucasian. If you know me, then you know I’ve been wanting to date a White guy for a while now. I heard they’re obsessed with natural-haired Black women, and well…you get the point! But this guy wasn’t making the cut, not smooth enough. Bachelor #2 was handsome, looked 34-36, but I could already tell that he had whispered something to Bachelor #3–the one making eye contact with me. He was my type: wide shoulders (gets me every time), great smile, and the haircut Beyonce sang about. I saw #2 giving #3 these little signals, ya know, the she’s-cute-but-I-can-tell-you-like-her-more glance? Homegirl caught it, and Bachelor #3 was probably gonna approach me.

Bachelor #3 looked 30-33, a bit more handsome than #2, and wasn’t as scrawny as #1. Plus he went all in for the 3 entree special like me! I love a guy who likes to eat.

So I batted my eyes at him a few times while trying to figure out what I would say to give him some “I’m single” aura. But I had a really stern look on my face since my damn soup still wasn’t ready. I came up with this–

Me: Do you come here a lot?

Him: (laughs) I was just about to ask you the same question. Actually, we do, we work close by.

Me: Oh right, I work close, too. But I usually don’t have to wait on my food. Like, ever.

*blah, blah, small talk*

Him: So do you have a number where I can reach you? Or, here, I’ll give you mine and you can text me.

GOT HIM!

After the initial text where we established names/numbers, I was confused on what to do next. Clearly, we’re both now back in the office barely busy, but I usually prefer a phone call over texting on a first encounter. Can’t call. At work. Fast forward to the first time I did call him (let’s just say ‘later that day’), we were able to set up another lunch date. Now I feel special. And I like Bachelor #3 because he’s thinking like me…or has something more important than a dating life to fill his evenings with. With my luck, I’ve probably snagged yet another woman’s husband for the ___ time this year.

I was looking forward to this date. I wore leggings & made sure my toes were non-ashy. If it’s one thing I’ve learned in male/female relationships, guys can’t say no to a woman in leggings. We opted for a cheap fulfilling meal (aka Chipotle), but when I asked him where we were eating, he said, “Follow me.” WHAT?! This guy actually planned something in advance? Alright Ashton, I’m already ready for you to jump out with the cameras.

We strolled to a nearby park that, oddly, I’d never seen before. I didn’t tell him, but I was completely opposed to dining outdoors because downtown San Fran smells like pure ass. Around every corner. Seriously. But whatever. We grabbed a bench, he stared at my thighs (#winning), and I began to yap about my excitingly stressful job. Then he told me some things, and we had basic sweet conversation. It was quite refreshing to not have to pry decent communication from a guy…we’ll talk about that another time. After a slight pigeon attack and some unruly dog smells, it was time for us to split. And the verdict on Bachelor #3 is: iLike.

But before we parted, I told him that I was only in town for work & would be leaving in a few weeks. Insert his sad face. Now here’s where things got interesting. From then on, our communication was based on the fact that I won’t be here for long, “so we’ve gotta speed things up a bit.” Hold on brotha, where the did Sweet Convo Guy go? Is that my cue to pull down my pants or simply plan a dinner/movie date? I’m confused….or am I? In real life, I basically want the same thing he wants anyway, right? Sooooo what’s REALLY wrong with speeding things up?

Fast forward to our next date, and then another, and then…well if I told you everything, then I wouldn’t be a good girl because we don’t kiss-n-tell!! But I will confirm that wearing leggings gets women in trouble. After a while, he’s going in for a feel. Or maybe a grasp. Or maybe I should just stop typing now.

Why We Need Awards Shows on BET

Alright, so, if you were bored at some point in the past few days, you probably caught a glimpse of the 2012 BET Awards. Or if you’re on Twitter, the posts clouded your homepage. And Facebook. And basically all of the social media you subscribe to. Anyhoo–year after year, I’m disappointed by the pure ratchetness that is BET and all that it stands for. But it in all fairness, we need things like Hip Hop Honors, Soul Train Awards, Essence Awards, NAACP Awards…you get the point…for our culture to thrive. How so, you ask?

1) New artists/rappers/randoms would go un-noticed: Be honest~did you know who Meek Mill was before his alleged involvement in the Drake & Chris Brown brawl? Right. He graced (I use the term lightly due to his baggy jeans) the red carpet, was nominated in the Best New Artist category, and basically coasted through the whole show without us giving a f–k. But thanks to BET, we all know who he is. Now he can continue to make music songs. Oh, and also the female rappers besides Nicki & Trina can get a shout out in their category. 

2) Tributes to those who’ve passed: Is it me or has 2012 brought some of the most tragic deaths at one time? Leave it to BET to pay these Afro-Americans some sort of respect (that tribute they did to MJ at the Awards was a joke, so it doesn’t count) that other networks probably wouldn’t do. 

3) Tributes to mf–rs who we forgot existed: Ok, so duh, Al Sharpton & Frankie Beverly ft. Maze are some of the “baddest mf–rs of all time,” and we would never truly forget them. But come on, is 2012 really the year they need an honor? I just went to an event in Hollywood a few years ago & guess who we  paid tribute to? Frankie Beverly ft. Maze. And since Rodney King, Sean Bell, and Trayvon Martin happened, we all know Al Sharpton is the voice of Blacks. You get the point.

4) So Chris Brown can continue to redeem himself: I don’t know why, but BET just loves to show how wonderfully talented, great, etc. CB is. He “showed out” at their [weak] MJ tribute, he’s the premiere episode on ‘Defining Moments’, blah blah blah. BET is the god of second chances. CB is on #6 at least.

5) For praises to Jesus: Nobody is more faithful to God that Black people. That’s the only explanation for the several Black churches throughout urban America. And no other deity (except Tyler Perry or Jay-Z) gets shout-outs like Jesus. So we have to thank BET for keeping us grounded in what matters, like a Yolanda Adams performance following Rick Ross’ spectacle. 

Those are my thoughts, peeps. What did you think of the BET ’12 Awards?

 

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