Last night we had a few flurries. I had to check outside to make sure nothing dramatic happened while I was sleep. I really didn’t feel like waking up to a suprising six inches of snow or any accumulation. I don’t really hate snow, but I do hate ice. Have you ever tried to walk on a street or sidewalk that hasn’t been salted down properly or at all? Not the easiest task at all.

I was just checking out Meta’s site and in his latest journal entry he was talking about rapper Jam Master Jay of Run DMC. Yesterday, Jam Master Jay was shot in the head and killed in a Queen’s recording studio. I was speechless, but I immediately opened Yahoo and CNN for the full coverages. Then I left a message for JT, to let him know about it. My prayers are with his family and friends. I will be playing my Run DMC’s Greatest Hits in mourning of Jam Master Jay.

http://thadweb.com/rundmc/

Read the rest of Jam Master Jay

Some days I really hate to surf through people’s personal weblogs, blogs, journals, whatever you want to call them. I get really sick of having to keep a translator at my side each and every time I view these particular sites. No, I’m not referring to a website in Spanish or Italian. The sites I’m talking about are in English but when you view them you wouldn’t think that they are in English. Yes, I am talking about the sites that are so full of slang that you wonder how the person was even smart enough to compose a webpage in html. How could they know a computer language if they don’t even know English? So what if that person is educated offline and they really do know how to spell today instead of ‘todae‘. On someone’s site I read, “I’m intelligent, I just like to type how I speak in general.” Ok, let’s see, now if you were REALLY intelligent you would not walk around talking like a damned fool. Now I know occassionally, for shits and giggles, I throw in slang in my journal and even in real life. Despite this, the average person can still understand my lingo unless you are also an imbecile.

I am truly disgusted by this outburst of stupidity in weblogs. When will the insanity cease?

Why can’t everyone’s site flow so elegantly like Brick’s, Meta’s or Jess’? *sigh*

Read the rest of Your Weblog Leaks Stupidity

Monday Mission

1. Ever do anything over and over just to make someone else happy but discover you actually hate it?
Nope, because I will tell that person that I don’t like the action or whatever I’m doing.

2. What kinds of obligations do you enjoy?
Pleasing my man.

3. What are your feelings about celebrating Halloween?
It isn’t a necessary event. I can do without.

4. Are there any stories of bodily functions you would prefer people not share with you in conversation?
Huh, are you talking about farting when it’s not appropriate?

5. What do you think is the most important aspect of personal hygiene that bothers you when people overlook it?
SQUASH SQUASH *shake my head at the fishy women out there*

6. Ponder the thought of being forever young, living on endlessly, being immortal. What would that life be like for you?
It would be interesting, but I wouldn’t like it if I was the only immortal around.

7. What’s the last thing you felt was “worth fighting for?”
Freedom of speech.

BONUS: Sooner or later, they all will be gone…why don’t they stay young?
I don’t have kids yet, this doesn’t apply to me.

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The headlines on New York Times states: “U.S. Diplomat Killed in Jordan.” Despite this, I have every desire to be a diplomat in the Middle East for United States.

My thoughts and prayers are with family and friends of Laurence Foley, a senior administrator in the American aid program to Jordan. Today, Laurence Foley was gunned down outside of his home in what appears to be one of the latest attacks against the West. I was horrified this morning as I read the news from my two-way pager which stated that Foley was gunned down by a “hail of bullets.” Mr. Foley was shot eight times in the head and chest. According to Neil MacFarquhar and Daniel J. Walkin, “analysts pointed out that numerous small extremist groups unearthed in Jordan in recent years harbored anti-Western and anti-American sentiments because of the lack of a resolution to the Palestinian conflict and the threats to attack Iraq.”

I’m not going to dig deep into a Western-Eastern conflict discussion at this time.

I want to be a diplomat because I feel that I can be involved in making a positive difference. In college, I majored in Arabic and I also studied Persian, Israeli Politics, History of the Middle East and several other courses about this diverse area of our world. I have a strong yearning to work amongst people like Laurence Foley and others throughout the United Nations and across the world. Reading about Mr. Foley sent shivers down my spine but at the same time the quivers turned into an affirmation. What I envision for myself in life became more clear this morning and this evening as I watched the evening news and read the New York Times.

Again, I would like to send my sympathy to the family of Mr. Laurence Foley.

Sources:

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Simple Friends Versus Real Friends

A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A simple friend doesn’t know your parents’ first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in her address book.

A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.

A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.

A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.

A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.

A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.

A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend knows that it’s not a friendship until after you’ve had a fight.

A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you!

Read the rest of Simple Friends Versus Real Friends

1. Disregard all nonessential numbers. These include age, weight and height.

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down. If you really need a grouch, there are probably family members that fill that need.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Just never let the brain idle.

4. Enjoy the simple things. Remember - when you were young, that’s all you could afford. When you were in college, that’s all that you could afford. When you are on retirement, that is all that you can afford!

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath. Laugh so much that you can be tracked anywhere by your distinctive laughter.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with us our entire life is ourselves.

7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it is family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health. If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don’t take guilt trips. Go to the mall, the next county, a foreign country, but forget the guilt trips!

10. At every opportunity, tell the people you love that you love them.

Remember: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Read the rest of How To Stay Young

I received this in an email a couple days ago:

Amiri Baraka Poem

Somebody Blew Up America
They say its some terrorist,
some barbaric
A Rab,
in Afghanistan
It wasn’t our American terrorists
It wasn’t the Klan or the Skin heads
Or the them that blows up nigger
Churches, or reincarnates us on Death Row
It wasn’t Trent Lott
Or David Duke or Giuliani
Or Schundler, Helms retiring
It wasn’t
The gonorrhea in costume
The white sheet diseases
That have murdered black people
Terrorized reason and sanity
Most of humanity, as they pleases
They say (who say?)
Who do the saying
Who is them paying
Who tell the lies
Who in disguise
Who had the slaves
Who got the bux out the Bucks
Who got fat from plantations
Who genocided Indians
Tried to waste the Black nation
Who live on Wall Street
The first plantation
Who cut your nuts off
Who rape your ma
Who lynched your pa
Who got the tar, who got the feathers
Who had the match, who set the fires
Who killed and hired
Who say they God & still be the Devil
Who the biggest only
Who the most goodest
Who do Jesus resemble
Who created everything
Who the smartest
Who the greatest
Who the richest
Who say you ugly and they the goodlookingest
Who define art
Who define science
Who made the bombs
Who made the guns
Who bought the slaves, who sold them
Who called you them names
Who say Dahmer wasn’t insane
Who? Who? Who?
Who stole Puerto Rico
Who stole the Indies, the Philipines, Manhattan
Australia & The Hebrides
Who forced opium on the Chinese
Who own them buildings
Who got the money
Who think you funny
Who locked you up
Who own the papers
Who owned the slave ship
Who run the army
Who the fake president
Who the ruler
Who the banker
Who? Who? Who?
Who own the mine
Who twist your mind
Who got bread
Who need peace
Who you think need war
Who own the oil
Who do no toil
Who own the soil

Read the rest of Amiri Baraka Poem

Friday Five

1. What is your favorite scary movie?
Mommy Dearest. That would scare me to no end, if my mom was like that lol.

2. What is your favorite Halloween treat?
Kit Kats, Jolly Ranchers, Snickers, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Mounds

3. Do you dress up for Halloween? If so, describe your best Halloween costume.
Not usually, but my favorite as a child was Wonder Woman.

4. Do you enjoy going to haunted houses or other spooky events?
I enjoy haunted houses, even though they scare me to death! Six Flags Fright Fest is better though.

5. Will you dress up for Halloween this year?
I’m gonna dress up as a chickenhead, stank ass ho with no job and three baby daddies from norf side STL. Y’all ain’t ready for all that.

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Ok so why was this crusty Chef Boyardee wannabe talking to me on the bus today like he really knew me. I had a long day at work so I was sooooo not in the mood for any type of conversation. I walked onto the funky ass bus looking for a seat and I had to sit next to a raggidy looking man who didn’t really want to let me by even after I nicely asked to sit there. I got ready for my beat down look, but he ended up letting me by. I sat behind Crusty Boyardee, but I didn’t notice him at the time. I was minding my business listening to 107.7FM with my Titanium headphones.

Anyway, I took a deep breath, relieved that I had a seat at all and exhaled. I start jamming to my music and Crusty Boyardee says something. Now, I mentioned I had my headphones on, but I am notoriously known for selective hearing anyway… He mumbled something about seeing me somewhere before. I smiled and nodded. Ok it’s possible that he has seen me, public transportation everyday, downtown, lots of people yeah it’s possible. And I often have tunnel vision on the bus, I mind my own damn business, BUT I am still aware of my surroundings. I lift my earphones away from my ear and say, “huh?” Crusty Boyardee repeats whatever he said, but it still didn’t make sense lol. From the way he was looking I’m guessing he was complimenting my looks, I don’t know and don’t care. He asked what I was listening to and I told him. By this time, I released a big sigh and a look of frustration. “I’ll let you get back to your music,” says Crusty. I nod and mentally thank God for shutting his ass up. All the funk on the bus is starting to get to me a poisonous substance and I started to drift away to lala land.

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Dear Papa,

As your only granddaughter, I know I was spoiled. I remember you fixing the best jelly sandwiches in the world for me, even with the crust cut off. In the grocery store, the toy aisle was MY aisle. If I wanted that latest Hotwheel, all I had to do was run to you and you would say, “You want that Pooky?” and I would respond, “Yes, Papa.” Mama running the pressing comb down my kinks and the heat would ease near my ear, I would scream and you would run into the room and yell, “Don’t hurt that baby!”

The random stuff I remember to this day; how to kill a chicken by ripping off his head, grow the biggest tomatoes with Miracle Grow and cook enough soup for an entire army.

Thank you for driving me to the bus stop every morning through good and bad weather, for my safety, even though we lived about two blocks from it. As a child, I could not appreciate this, as an adult, I love you for this.

Thank you for taking me with you out and about. Driving across town in your big truck made me feel like I was on top of the world. In the country, you took me fishing and to visit family. And nearly every other weekend, we visited Uncle Oscar and Aunt June across the river in Alton, Illinois. You taught me the importance of family and for this I love you.

You know a memory that sticks out most in my memory Papa? The time you drove from Saint Louis to Denver to take me, Mama and Roth back home. You felt like my hero rescuing me from an undesirable place and taking me HOME. I hold that moment close to my heart.

Thank you for being my grandfather. You were the father I didn’t have, you helped raise me into a lovely young lady. You were a hero to your country and you will always be mine. I love you dearly Papa.

With all my love.

Your Granddaughter,

Rashaan
BKA Pooky

Read the rest of Dear Papa