I Don’t Like Telling People I Love Them

Maybe I’m insecure and have way too much regard for others’ opinions of me. I don’t like saying ‘I love you’ because I don’t want there to ever come a time when they doubt my love. I get mad a lot. I get attitudes. But I still love you.

I once told someone I loved them before they ever said it to me. For a couple days, I had that take-my-love-back feeling since I was in limbo waiting for them to return the phrase. Then after a while, I let it sink in. I love you. That’s how Rhonda felt; Rhonda doesn’t control your actions, only hers. Eventually…they said it back.

In another incident, I said ‘I love you’ to someone following a very intense argument. The way they snapped, “And I love you, too” back at me wasn’t convincing at all! Where is your love in the midst of those harsh words you just spoke? Then I began to doubt their love for me.

So what does it really mean to say ‘I love you’? And what does it mean to hear it back at you? My guess is all of our interpretations are different. But one thing’s for sure: love doesn’t hurt.

This Is How It Goes Un-noticed

What on EARTH is a boundary?

Alright, alright. Before you get your panties in a bunch, let me explain. I found this picture on a blog yesterday & it has sparked a TON of outcry, controversy, and comments.

The man pictured in the photo is Bishop Larry Trotter of a church in Chicago, Illinois. He is seen with his four-year-old granddaughter; apparently she had wandered into the bathroom and wanted to take part in playing with bubbles. According to the report from Current.com, both the grandfather & the child put on swim trunks then she got in the tub with him. Of course in the picture, it’s not obvious whether they are fully nude. Anther article also proclaims the mother of the child took the picture.

After reading several blog sites where this image was posted and seeing viewer comments, I need to vouch my opinion. Shall we proceed? Good….

1) How was this little girl wandering into the bathroom? Granted, I didn’t grow up in a house with my dad, but I spent several nights at Grandma’s house with her & Grandpa. He never went into the toilet without locking the door. I don’t know the specific circumstances around Trotter’s household, but something about that fact didn’t seem right.

2) Why is the (grown ass) mother in the bathroom as well? TAKING THE PICTURE? Again, something about this shit is way too liberal.

3) The kid is age 4 or 5. I know how inquisitive kids are at age 2, so by 5, their tiny brains are cranking like factory machines. Fa sho. Even if she was wearing swim trunks, girls should wear a whole swimsuit. Period. She is at a very vulnerable age where it shouldn’t be okay to take a picture “topless” in the bathtub.

4) Did he forget he was a pastor? With social media being as powerful as it is, you can never be too careful. And as a man in the public eye, you KNOW you gotta watch your back!!! You mean to tell me the picture miraculously appeared to your Instagram page without your permission? Wake up & smell the rhinestones, dude…someone is trying to frame you.

5) This is how perverts slip through the cracks and we (as humans) end up on the news with the I-don’t-know-how-this-happened-because-he-wasn’t-like-that face. Lookin’ stupid. Not saying Trotter is by any means a child predator, I’m simply stating that parents overlook too many things and write them off as innocent.

All in all, I have to go with my girl Tamar Braxton on this one and tell this pastor’s whole family GET YO’ LIFE! Yes. Get it.

Image

No Sex In The City

There it was across the room on the floor in a brown, unmarked package. The box was large enough to fit a pair of pumps, but I had received all seven of my shoe shipments already. I scattered my dresser for a pair of scissors. I snatched the box open. And behold: my complete DVD collection of Sex and the City I had patiently (anxiously) awaited coming home to for several weeks.

Like many women, I’ve seen only snippets of a single season of the show, but never really got the chance to watch it all. And the DVD set is a bit pricey unless you’re a true fan willing to spend the dough. But thanks to Groupon, I now own it plus the two movies.

So far, I’m done with the first three seasons, and boy! I had no idea the show was this…terrible.

Let’s go back. The show is skillfully and creatively put together in a way that depicts typical, modern white women.  Although it’s set in NY, I choose to believe chicks all across the USA share similar traits. So why am I disappointed? Because most of it is a HUGE LIE! I’ll break down the characters–

1) Charlotte – whore. very conservative. also rather conservative in the bedroom because she doesn’t give head and detests kinkiness in general. judges Samantha for being an overt whore, though. has a glamorized view of marriage and yearns for her fairytale fantasy. also pretty judgmental overall.

2) Miranda – whore. stiff and rude. usually horny at times when she either can’t find a man or has run a decent one away. settles easily because she isn’t pretty. stereotypical ‘successful woman with high standards and a domestic feline’. would probably lead a feminist movement in support of Madonna’s comeback.

3) Samantha – whore. open to her sexuality and doesn’t hide her urges. often has cheesy lines in the script because she’s wealthy and shouldn’t appear wiser than Carrie although she is. complete MTLF (…replace the “I” in MILF with “they”…) who sees what she wants and goes for it. if she were black, she’d be Karrine Steffans.

4) Carrie – whore. shallow, but smart. symbolizes the “every woman” archetype in that she keeps running back to the man who hurt her, while believing things between them will change. tries to change men. supposedly the lead character (or villain depending on how you look at her) in that her battles with men are the largest. true homewrecker.

Why would the writers of this show perpetuate such formulas women in only four distinct categories? Why would they lie to us, presenting these exaggerated characters with extremely distorted views of men? Why did Carrie marry Big in the first movie (if she did this in, say, season 5 no one would’ve watched the rest)? Why the hell does Charlotte land two seemingly perfect guys? It seems our lofty leaders of Hollywood stringed us along folks. And we like it.

In my opinion, Miranda and Samantha are most realistic. I have no words for how much I despise Carrie (except for “Aiden should have spit in your face at the wedding”) and Charlotte is too Disney to be in her 30s. A mess this is.

Nevertheless, I can’t wait for Blair Underwood’s character to meet Miranda and knock her boots later in the show. I mean—that’s just good TV, who wouldn’t be excited?

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.

Why I Like Being A Bitch

I say, heffa say what?! Get yo' life.

Given the state of black cinema, and by “state of” I mean “lack of quality,” I was somewhat excited for the opening of Think Like A Man. I wasn’t overjoyed because the casting department got way too excited and put everybody and their Wendy Williams in it. But I wasn’t lackluster since hilarious Kevin Hart flooded the advertising. So I expected a pretty decent film, and that’s what I got. But when it was over, all I could think of was the mistakes that were made from a production viewpoint and obvious bloopers. Why couldn’t I just be proud of this–accomplishment?

Then just a few weeks before, an associate of mine invited me out for drinks. I declined. Twice. Why? Because I have nothing nice to say to this person. I don’t hate them, I just have ill feelings & sincerely don’t want to entertain them for even 15 minutes. So I chose the avoidance route. Why can’t I just sit down, get those issues off my chest, and shoot the shit for a few hours?

Because I don’t want to.

Either I want to be (humanly) upset and in my zone for a while, or I’ve got to say what’s on my mind. And in my eyes, there is a decent explanation behind it (I know you couldn’t wait for me to say it). I’m mid-20s, so I’ve got a lot to learn. But that doesn’t discredit the trials of life that have already beat me up. Remember high school? Sure you do. That was probably the best four years of your life! You kicked it, saw it, drank it, smoked it, did it, and all of the above. Well I didn’t. I fucking hated high school with a passion! It was miserable deep down inside, but no one knew. I always covered it up because I was the ‘happy’ friend. Didn’t matter what day it was, I had a smile. I made someone laugh. I helped somebody with their work. I decorated for Homecoming. I was a cheerleader. I did all these things to boost my image and to maintain popularity. Didn’t get me any real friends, though (we’ll talk about that later). I was just trying to remain the girl who people liked. That means I hid a lot of bad days!

Fast forward to college, and Mr. Nice Rhonda disappeared by the end of the first semester. There’s only so much a person can take!!! (breathe…inhale…exhale) My dorm roommate was pushing the right WRONG buttons and I went loco on her ass. I used so many curse words at the top of my voice that the Resident Assistant came to see if we were fighting. Yeah, it was that bad. But you know what? I had never felt so good.

That one experience, yes that one, taught me not to hold in anger towards people. Why? Because I can crush them with my words (a skill that continues to develop!) and not lay a hand on them. That keeps me out of prison. And releasing those ill feelings makes me happier. Sounds messed up, but it’s the truth.

Lately, I try not to take things out on the wrong people, so I keep my distance. And you know what that makes me look like? A bitch.

Here’s an example. Months ago I was at a bowling alley with a group of friends and… long-story-short, some guy there made me upset to the point where I wanted to fight him. But he was a cool 300+ lbs so I wasn’t about to be stupid. Instead, I stormed away and didn’t speak to anyone the rest of the night. I was still mad. He pushed the right WRONG button. But my attitude in the situation toward my friends was quite bitchy. Oh well.

Now that I’ve lived a little, I’m tired of apologizing when someone has wronged *me* just to mend the bridge. I’m sick of picking up the phone to reconnect with people who *used* to call me all the time. And I’ve worn myself thin with fake hellos and goodbyes. I’m just fed up. I’m gonna be a bitch about it.

I know what you’re thinking: Rhonda, that’s not the way to be, don’t bow down to these people’s low behavior. Guess what? Fuck you, too LOL! What’s done is done. I’m tainted. There’s something like 7million or so people in this town, so I don’t feel the need to stroke a handful of egos just to keep them as “friends.” Honey I’ve got 6,999,995 more people to meet so step aside.

But I do look forward to the day when I’m nice to everyone again and their actions toward me aren’t a bother. That’ll be the day when I’m assured I’ll grow into a sweet old lady and not a mean one. Because eventually, someone’s gotta change my diapers again, and they deserve the utmost respect. So let me be a bitter bitch now while I’ve got the time. And when my inner Nene Leakes/Stasi Quinn surfaces, don’t say you weren’t warned.

 

“I mean, is there something wrong with society that’s making us so pressurized, that we cannot live without guarding ourselves against it?” -John Lennon
“It’s not the events of our lives that shape us, but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” -Tony Robbins
“No matter how dull, or how mean, or how wise a man is, he feels that happiness is his indisputable right.” -Helen Keller

Holy Rollin’

Is This Where I Should Lay My Burdens?

This is going to sound like a mean rant. And it is. So if you’re easily offended by religious discussion, I invite you to stop reading now.

I still have your attention?! Great.

Recently, I was watching some re-runs of “Run’s House” and I noticed that when Justine answered the phone, she greeted callers with, “praise the Lord!” Nothing wrong with that, I actually thought it was cute…and funny. But what I liked about Justine as the episode progressed was that she kept it real. You know, went about her regular business and wasn’t pushing her Lord on anybody. Shall we talk about keeping it real?

I used to attend a mega church in Los Angeles (to remain nameless) and every Sunday, I sat in the same seat. Smack dab in the front about 5 rows from the altar. I like to be able to see EVERYthang that’s going on without distractions. Any further back & I may as well stay home to watch it online. I wanted chuuuch. There was a lady around my Mom’s age who would save my seat. I liked her. She had the best hats to go with her outfits and never had a rip in her pantyhose. She was fly! We’ll call her Church Lady.

Church Lady loved to tell me her business because, in her eyes, I was like a daughter. So I listened. I listened to her tell me about the tired men who take her out on cheap dates. I listened to her gossip about Sistah Big Bones across the aisle. I listened to her tell me how God blessed her with a new Benz (she went for a C-class but they offered an E-class for a good price). And I listened to her tell me about her teenage sons who, for whatever reason, never want to sit next to her and looooove their daddy. Church Lady kept it real with me every week. And she even asked for my number so she could call me in case I missed a Sunday! Ok, that’s called being nosey, but you get my point.

Like Justine, Church Lady knew she wasn’t perfect. She never tried to be except when it came to her flawless hair & makeup. Her weave was whipped and her M.A.C. was matte. Impeccable. She was just like me: in church to hear a message from God so that I can make it through the week. Except her gossip was my little bonus. But after a while, I grew tired of this mega church. It started to feel like I was watching a live TV show versus being in the House of God. So I stopped going.

I would visit church after church. I sat in the front rows only to watch more live TV…which sucks because I work in TV. But I’m hesitant about visiting this one church that many of my associates go to because—well, they’re pretty much heathens (we’ll come back to this later).

Back to Justine and Church Lady. We all KNOW for a fact that outside of church, people live sinful normal lives just like you and me. So what’s the use of trying to pretend like you don’t? A dear, dear friend of mine called me the other day with the most judgmental conversation I’d ever heard, and it made my skin crawl. This person seems to profess their love for God (or some god) more than anyone I can name. Doesn’t the Bible mention that God is the ultimate judge? Doesn’t this same God forgive us of our sins, regardless of who we are?

I am sick and tired of religious/church people condemning the world like their sh!t doesn’t stink. Most of all, I’m fed up with them pretending to love God so much that they forgot how to be human. These are the types people who add ‘if the Lord is willing’ after every question (ex: “hey, you going to Joy’s party on Saturday?” “girrrl, I will if the Lord is willing!”). Really? You consult with God on every decision you make? Did you ask God to help you choose those 3 baby-daddies or was that all you? Did you ask God to give you the words to curse out that rude chick in line at White Castles? Please tell me God didn’t direct you to buy a Land Rover and your rent is 3 months behind? Yeah. Didn’t think so.

The part I think is the saddest is there are people in the world who don’t believe in God (or any god) whatsoever, and then they look at the Holy Rollers with their non-sense. Who wants to be affiliated with that? Get over yourself. And while I’m at it, can’t we all just get along?

Some may say that I’m now judging them on their behavior. I call it stating the facts. Bottom line is we all get one chance at life. And this is it. How you choose to live yours may not line up with what I’m doing, and vice versa. But that in no way means I am wrong and you are right! It means we’re uniquely human. And my uniquely human hand wants to *in my Mama Braxton voice* smack the piss out of them! Just like this dude ‘be smacking his hoes.’

End rant.

LYFE JENNINGS
“Made Up My Mind”
[1st Verse:]
Lord they really think they fooling you by coming to church on Sunday
praying and laying hands on folks stomping and jumping around
faking the holy ghost
but its a thin line between walking it and talking it
living it and giving it or just pretending it’s alright
and did they really think that they could pull the wool over your eyes Lord
did they really think that by faking they were saved that
they would get the same reward
this be the realest thing I ever wrote for sure
after this a lot of folks wont like me no mo’
but after this I gotta go answer to you Lord
so I’ve made up my mind I’m a go to church on Sunday
and sing a song that may hurt somebody’s feelings so that maybe
thy will, will be done
on earth as it is in heaven
and hopefully they will see
how much they really be discouraging a little old sinner like me
[2nd Verse:]
And Lord who they think they jiving by singing these songs full of glory
then out in the world it’s a different story
I’m running out of people to pray for me
I’m not trying to act like I’m the perfect man
but if you speak about it, you should be about it
not just preach about it all day
cause if you do you run the risk of chasing some
of the most beautiful people away
and it is never my intention to discourage you rather encourage you
to change your life today
this be the realest thing I ever had to say,
but after this a lot of folks wont like me no mo’
but after this I gotta go answer to you Lord
so I’ve made up my mind I’m a go to church on Sunday
and sing a song that may hurt somebody’s feelings
so that maybe thy will, will be done
on earth as it is in heaven
and hopefully they will see
how much they really be discouraging a little old sinner like me

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