Tidbits From My Blogging Hiatus

I know, I know. I said that I would post twice a week. I said that I wouldn’t disappear for long periods of time. I’m human. I had the best of intentions, yet weeks have gone by without so much as a click in my corner of the WordPress world. I’m a work in progress. I’m only human. All of the above. I have a few tidbits that I’d like to share. Some of these things were meant to be full posts of their own, but my brain and my pen wouldn’t cooperate.

– First, a couple of  things that I’m not here for. (Since it’s the new online trend. I do find the statement quite catchy, and find myself saying it in real life on occasion)

1. The universal conversation of lil Gabby’s new growth. I don’t care what her mother’s hair looks like. I don’t care how easy it is to slap a perm on. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. That child trains day in and day out in West Bumbleboondocks *enter rural state where we don’t think black people live*. That child runs, flips, and tumbles in chalk. She sweats for a living. She crossed the pond for one reason. To be crowned the baddest lil lady in gymnastics, by winning Olympic gold. Her mission has been accomplished. And *gasp* she did it with nappy edges. Her hair was not a factor in nary a score. Her form was near perfect, and that smile is infectious. That girl is a world-class athlete. Leave her be.

2. My face breaking out like a middle schooler. Recently, I’ve notice that my skin has decided to rebel against my face. They are engaging in a war that I was neither notified of, or would have given my consent. I’m 25 years old. I went through puberty quite a while ago. I don’t know what I did to deserve this awkward 8th grader’s skin. I keep telling myself that this is simply toxins leaving my body due to my recent incorporation of green smoothies and my new obsession with vegetables. I have so much more skin on my body. These toxins need to find another exit route.

3. My allergies. Food allergies. Nature allergies. Skin allergies. None of them .


– I’m slowly turning into a healthy eater. I feel it. I’ve been trying to fight it, but my vegetable cravings are no joke. For some reason I want to eat broccoli and carrots all the time. A smoothie and a banana for breakfast, apple for snack and salads for lunch. I don’t know where this came from. My snack drawer at work was infamous. Now, there’s fruit and sunflower seeds. These are the things that I crave. Also, I’ve developed a fascination with juicing. I want to buy an amazing juicer, and eventually make all of my own juice. Of course, I’m going to start with a juice fast, just to see how much crap that it forces to leave my body. There is a down side to this uber-healthy change. I don’t want meat very much. This wouldn’t be much of an issue if I wasn’t allergic to fish. Yes, one of the allergies that I’m not here for. Not being able to eat anything with scales eliminates so many great meal options.

– I’m never boycotting the magical deliciousness that is Chik-Fil-A. I don’t care who they donate money to. They gave me my first job, and I thoroughly appreciated being able to have Sundays off for church. Not to mention, they have the best chicken nuggets and waffle fries ever. EVER. When that craving calls, I will forever answer.

– I need a name for people who I call friends, who aren’t really friends. People that I connect with on specific levels and nothing else. They are not qualified for overall life involvement, but they’re dope people nonetheless. What do we call these people? I needs to know.

Here’s to the hope that this post will kick-start a steady stream of ideas and words.


I think body art is one of the most interesting forms of self-expression. I have tattoos. I went under the gun for the first time on my 18th birthday for no other reason than to defy my father’s forbidding. I still remember going to his job and lifting the back of my shirt to reveal the Chines characters covered by Saran wrap. He was not happy at all. I’ve been on the receiving end of the tattoo gun five more times since July, 16 six years ago. I’m not finished. Although every piece has a very different meaning to me, what I love the most about my body are is the placement. None of my tattoos are visible unless I want them showing.

There seems to be a set of universal tattoo stereotypes. I don’t know where or when they originated, but most people follow the same code of what certain body placement means. More specifically, everyone believes that there are a few areas on a woman’s body that define they as a “bird” (hoodrat, hooch, project b*&ch) when covered with a tattoo.

Pelvic Area:







 I don’t have tattoos in any of those places, not because I’m afraid to  be labeled a bird, because those aren’t areas that I want inked. I don’t make it a point to judge people on where and what they’ve decided to get tattoos. I do, however, have one huge pet peeve. I can’t stand when people flap their lips about others with tattoos that they deem to be in unprofessional or “bird” areas when they are the owner of body are in an equally unprofessional area. I hear colorful commentary from my peers, mostly women, who are at full-time professional jobs all the time.

 “I would never get a tattoo on my neck, shoulder or upper back. That’s so unprofessional. I won’t able to wear certain kinds of gowns to dinners and galas.” 

“A tattoo on my wrist? I can’t hide that every day at work!” 

These same women leave out of your neighborhood tattoo parlor with some huge piece of art going down the inside of their arm, along the top of their shoulder, or on their ankle when they wear skirts every day to work. All these are places that aren’t very easy to hide every single day in every single season. Men have arm sleeves that stop right above their wrists, and I’m assuming that they aren’t going to spend the rest of their lives wearing long-sleeved shirts to work every day.

I say everyone get body are wherever they would like on their body. I could decide one day that I want to sleeve my entire arm, an idea that may become a reality when I reach the point where I never have to work a job in Corporate America ever again. So what. It will not change the way that I conduct myself in a professional setting. And what in the world is a “professional” tattoo anyway?





Whyyy Did I Ever Watch These Movies?

Jason’s Lyric – I saw this movie years after it’s release, because I was a child back when it was popular. I don’t remember who I watched it with, but I do remember being extremely uncomfortable during the love scene in the woods. I’m pretty sure I watched it with family. How awkward is that? Sitting with your dad while Jada Pinkett is getting it on all out in nature. I’ll pass. And then there was the big blow up crazy man shoot em up scene. I don’t like crazed gunmen. I don’t like emotional shootings. This was all that and then some. I couldn’t do it. Will never watch it again. *Shudders*

Precious – This movie here…. My first tear fell somewhere in the beginning of the movie after my first cringe when poor Precious got smacked by her mama at the sink. Every time they seemed to dry up, something else happened to  get me upset again. I was also pissed because no one warned me that I would cry. I would have come with an entire box of tissue. When that baby went tumbling down the stairs! Queue the water works once again. It was really downhill when Monique decided that she was going to explain to Paula why she treated Precious the way she did. Come On!!! Was I really expected to sit through that without crying and sniffling all over the place? Never will I ever see that mess again. I wash my hands of all that emotion at once. Ugh!!

Passion of the Christ – First of all, let me just say eff Mel Gibson for creating this movie. Why? Because it is enough seeing my Jesus on the screen at church every few months during communion. The crucifixion that they show from that old school movie is pretty sad. Mel decided that he wanted to recreate the whole thing and do it with a bigger budget and make it all types of realistic. And of course my church had to book a theatre. Literally. We had movie tickets and there was not one person in that room that wasn’t a member of Born Again. I have never been in so much pain during, well, anything. I was one tense muscle. I cringed every time they hit my Jesus. Every time He winced I winced. And every time they showed his mama crying, I cried. Yea, eff Mel Gibson. My daddy bought the dvd when it was released (because it’s about Jesus and all). I don’t remember it ever being unwrapped from the plastic.

American History X – I am still mad at the person that made me watch this mess. We were supposed to chillin’. Spending quality time together. Last time I checked, watching someone get their teeth kicked into a sidewalk wasn’t a cool way to spend time with someone you like. Yea I’m still mad. Just a little bit. I’ll never watch that movie again because of that there scene. Makes my skin crawl.

Only happy movies for me. I’ve been scarred enough.


Sidenote: I’m on a mission to get my Gigi to go thrifting. If I’m successful, I’m writing a post about it. Wish me luck!

There’s Just Me…. A Rant

I read a lot of blogs, probably more than I should. It seems like lately there have been an abundance of posts dealing with women. The type of women men want, the type they hate, the ideal combination of types, and the reasons why certain types will never get wifed. It’s all starting to get a little old.

I am B.Renee. Period. There’s just me. I’m not a type of girl that fits into a category. Hell, I’ve found parts of my personality in almost every single blog post! Does it mean that I’m only going to date a certain type of man because I genuinely enjoy sports and don’t care for make-up, I’m pretty and I know it, or because I have more female friends than male, or I feel that a woman should be treated with respect, I don’t care about a man’s money…. I could go on for days.

And don’t get me started on the comments that are made on these blogs. A smorgasbord of “_____ all do ____” and “all ____ men like _____ women”. Let me not forget ” ______ girls are cute/need love too!!”  Shuuuut UUUP!!

Why do I (all women) have to fit into a category? I understand that people have certain characteristics that they look for in potential dates/mates/significant others, but can it just be left at that? Stop trying to put me in a box! I’m too curvy for all of that. (you see what I did there)

But seriously. I’m me, myself and I. I am not “B the ______ girl” and will never identify as such.

Natural Is Not The New Light-Skinned For Me

I am writing this post after reading this: http://realgoesright.wordpress.com/2010/09/28/natural-is-the-new-light-skinned/

I appreciate all that G Hyl had to say, and understand his point of view. I’ve never discussed my opinion on natural hair going mainstream in-depth because I’ve never had a real reason to do so. I have spoken about how much work goes into taming my mane, which is plenty of work. But all of the tweets leading up to me reading this article have urged me to speak my peace.

I cut my hair off before Spring Break 2009. I did not make this decision after seeing a fly bald lady. I didn’t make this decision after reading about it in a magazine. I cut my hair because applying a relaxer to a short hairstyle every three weeks had become unhealthy.

I started out with hair down to the nape of my neck, and cut it periodically until it looked like this:

And then the damage happened. My original was to grow out the perm while pressing the new growth to maintain the hairstyle. That lasted about 3 weeks. One day I walked right out of work and into a beauty salon with one instruction. “Cut off all of the straight hair.” That left me with nothing. And I loved it. Life was easy. There was no need to allocate time in the morning for hair. I simply brushed the back n went on my way.

I soon got used to this new routine but did not want a cold head when winter rolled around, so I decided to grow my hair out in its natural state. I had no idea what I was in for. I did, however fall in love with how healthy my hair was. It was think and full, and all areas of breakage were growing back with no problem. My decision was a good one.

I am not offended by women that are ‘big chopping’ in order to be a part of the fad. Do I think that it is a smart choice? No. I do laugh at them just a little when I think about the work they have in store once they decide to start growing their hair back. Especially if they aren’t prepared.

Do I think that natural is the new light-skinned? Yes. Is it MY new light-skinned? Not even close, but I’m not one to follow the directions of  magazines and blogs. As sure as light-skinned returned to being just another shade of brown, natural hair will fall off the ‘what’s hot’ list and leave behind many a bald head black woman with no direction. Meanwhile, myself along with all women who are natural for an actual reason will remain happily nappy! (or curly, or straight!)