I think there is an icebox where my heart used to be.
A year ago, I was in a fairy tale. I was set to release my first novel, and in love with my first love after a seven year break. I could not believe my life. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t in a dream. It was as if the gods of Love, reconciliation, and karma had brought my life full circle. People were telling me they could sense a change in me, how I seemed more at peace.
As the buying public gave my novel a resounding “sit your ass down!!” and the “love” of my life kissed me off with all the detachment and mixed messages of a Deadbeat Daddy, I sit in the corporate offices that drove me to become an artist. The office beaucracy is a far cry from my simple bohemian artist life. Not used to using the standard PC scrolly mouse in favor of the MacBook 1 click, I checked a box on a spreadsheet I shouldn’t have. One of the managers tore into me for making such a huge mistake, and my mother is upset with me for being upset with myself for not achieving my personal goals to my satisfaction.
So there lies my poor heart. Once a boiling cauldron, now an icy igloo. I’ve been taught the lesson not to trust ANYONE so many times I’d RATHER spend my personal time alone. The worst betrayals are always the most intimate. The risks I couldn’t seem to be complete without taking have crashed and burned my once open heart and fiery spirit. So I can’t control if the book buying public will buy my book, nor can i control who wants to be in or out my life, or who chooses to judge me by impossible standards.
I dotted away the last trace of tears from my eyes, careful not smudge my MACnificient eyes. I’ll think about how Prince Charming is romancing another woman, be alone with my thoughts, and later be alone with some personal merriment. Perhaps I’ve spread so much of myself that I forgot to leave some left for me? It’s quite a peculiar thing to feel your heart do the reverse Grinch, instead of growing two sizes bigger, my heart is shrinking. Good riddance. It hurts way too much when you care so much.
There is no shortage of commentary about how talented, yet flawed Whitney Elizabeth Houston was. Every new story echoes Whitney’s greatness, and somehow points out her substance addiction- perhaps an attempt to dim the light of her brilliant radiance. Rumors, lies, and half truths swirled around her in life, and inevitably follow her in death. Despite all of the back handed compliments and condemnations of Whitney, her essence and life should permeate us all into a greater understanding of self.
Whitney was gifted. It was an absolute no brainer that the tall and gorgeous Whitney Houston was unlike anyone who had ever graced our radios & TV screens. No one was as naturally beautiful with the soprano pipes Whitney had, even as a teenager. In another world, Whitney who famously mentored and mothered up and coming musicians, would have been a vision in Versace couture teaching Tyra Banks to man up against Naomi Campbell and showing her how to work her awkwardness. Whitney told the modeling world no, & Arista’s CEO Clive Davis yes and singlehandedly transformed the face of popular music. As Madonna pushed her sexuality and Janet flirted between sassy and political consciousness, Whitney simply exuded the type of glamor usually reserved for Fairy godmothers and princesses from Disney movies. Whitney’s vocals had the soul of old ladies in the front row of Grandma’s church, matched with the power and control of a seasoned opera chanteuse. Somewhere between jaw dropping amazing and striking beauty was the woman, who’s gifts were perhaps so effortless she may have not known the true value of them herself.
Clive Davis knew the value. Whitney’s songs made him a very rich man, Her catalog, loaded with hit records solidified Davis’ legacy as a great eye for female powerhouse talents like Janis Joplin, Phylis Hyman, and Whitney’s Auntie Re Re, (we mortals would call her The Queen of Soul) With Whitney Houston more than most contemporary artists the technique and polish of her vocals turned great songs into modern day classic standard, after modern day classic standard. No one could sing a song like Whitney Houston. She is the bar, bar none. All anyone would have to do is Wiki her and go to her Vevo channel to see for themselves. Whitney who was too proud to use Auto Tune and sing over recorded vocals during performances in later career, and the press never seemed to let Whitney live it down. She came from a different era of authenticity. She always wanted to come from an authentic place and connect with her audience, so even when Whitney shouldn’t have sang, she sang. But to remember Whitney Houston in that way is like remembering Michael Jordan as a Washington Wizard. Is Elvis not the King of Rock n Roll? Whitney just has a 20 plus year career of creating pop and American music history while being the definition by every future and current diva is measured to, while never portraying the image of sexpot to do so.
No one is perfect, and no one understands what motivates another to do what they do. We can’t even understand our own actions at times. Also to whom much is given, much is tested. No one can imagine Whitney’s tests, I am just thankful that I was around to witness her gifts. There are so many lessons we could learn from Whitney’s life. I think above all things she’d wish for us to LOVE- ourselves. She’d tell us to cherish that which makes us who we individually are. When I’m at moments of confusion in my life, after praying and thinking, I will think about Whitney Houston, and what my Fairy Godmother would think is best. My tribute to her will not just be support of her music, it will appear in the decisions that lead the direction of my life. She will be my reminder despite being a giving person, being a talented person, being a beautiful person, never to lose myself in any of those things. Whitney will remind me to hold on to myself before any of the attributes that make me who I am. She will remind me, in the end no matter how many people good or bad pop into our lives, we are on our own. Whitney Elizabeth Houston will be with me to remind me of personal greatness, and a personal commitment to always show love, especially to myself.
Wants someone who is a great leader. A leader knows their role lies in the responsibility that their power allows them to have. A leader is a giver and is strong enough and kindhearted to walk anywhere without fear or shame. A leader is a listener, and when a leader speaks it is with knowledge and foresight.
No one is saying go make a sex tape with your friends horny little brother and become a fame whore. But you can bounce back from any embarrassment from your past and become the person you want to be.
Everyone knows the formula by now. Make a sex tape, get a reality show, and become gossip blog fodder while brushing off the haters via Twitter rants. The 21st century celebutante archetype is less based on talent and more on media savvy. The Drayas’ of the world are this generation’s Carrie Bradshaw as legions of women propel ratings of shows like Basketball Wives, Bad Girls Club, The Real Housewives, and of course the many Kardashian Klan spinoffs on the E! Network. The malice, slander, and girlfights are as addictive as the sex, five star restaurants, and fashions portrayed on these shows are all things that appeal to the female ego. Heavy on materialism and sexualization, reality TV can either make you think the apocalypse is upon us, or all the images of young women on reality television display loose moraled, foul mouthed, cringe worthy assualt and rattery behavior. This isn’t always the case with all of these shows, all the time.
Kim Kardashian is rocking the crowned jeweled tiara as Queen of the Reality empire. Unassing her sextape predecessor Paris Hilton, no one has turned busted nuts into a money tree quite like Kimmy. Instead of playing to the image her actions (or lack of action) with loverman Ray J, Kimberly Noel capitalized on it. Kim Kardashian, the empire is worth $35 million, and counting. Not only lending her image for product endorsement, Kim executes her ideas into tangible businesses like workout DVDs and clothing lines. Kim Kardashian’s face is more synonymous with glamor than smut nowadays, even upgrading JC Penny’s to fly girl status. Her exploits may have made Kim the butt of many jokes. Kim has been called a talentless J-Lo, a slut, a gold digger and an athlete chaser. But, the bigger but is that judgment, cynicism, and suspicion are hurdles any woman that has ever done anything dubious in her life must face and vault over to ever gain a true sense of who she is. Kim Kardashian can never run from or deny what she has done, all anyone would ever have to do is Google her. Sure Kim got smashed on camera and got replaced by Reggie Bush in front of millions, but is that who we really see when we watch Kim on TV? Is that the person Kim Kardashian is?
Last night, E! aired the highly anticipated Kim Kardashian Wedding Special as the world watched the decadence, arguing, and stress of putting on a wedding fit for a queen. We saw Kim the concerned daughter by her mother’s side after surgery, the Kim crying in her stepdad’s arms dreaming of her birth father, the Kim who seemed to be the glue of a busy, dysfunctional average, American family. To the chagrin of the trill OG’s, Kris Humphries made a hoe a housewife in front of the world, even sending her trinkets right before she walked down the aisle. It was as if Kim’s unable to keep a man-ness, FaceTime with Brandy’s brother, and general bimboism were relics of the past like VHS tapes and Walkmans.. maybe because they are.
Kudos to Kim. Feminists and womanists alike salivate at pointing out her shortcomings, but what about embracing a woman who clearly owns all her flaws, understands and works with them? Kim no longer actively sells sex, she sells perfume, diet pills, and party dresses. Kim alludes a certain type of grace, confidence, and focus despite her vulnerability and embarrassing porno past. What if women learned not to let go of their past? What if women stopped running away from their past? What if women learned what Kim Kardashian learned? Kim learned the long and hard way that who she is and what she did are two entire different things. Kim learned she isn’t what people said she is, she is who she puts her energy into being. Kim didn’t throw out the sour lemons of life, she made lemoncellos lemonade (Kim doesn’t drink). Kim is far from perfect. She seems to want to do everything on camera. Maybe reality TV for celebs is what Facebook or Twitter is for regular folks, hmmm… Of course Kim Kardashian is no Mother Teresa, but who is? #kanyeshrug
all in a day’s work…
I’ll Never Be Picture Perfect Beyonce….
For More On Sex Kittens, Check Out Devyn McAllister in the sexy corporate thriller , Everything I Miss At Home available on ITunes and Amazon.
There is always that ONE. The one we tend to see unexpectedly in our dreams, who leaps over into our thoughts, and inspires us to gaze at the pretty portrait of a memory in the gallery of our minds until a “mess” becomes a Monet. In time, wine, and new new (you KNOW what “new new” is!!) the poignant picture our past boos painted in our heads dulls and living takes over. Life’s routines and experiences replace the longing for the proverbial old flame. But true to The Notebook, Letters To Juliet, and Friday the 13th fashion that old thing comes back. Words of wISdumb like “if you love something let it go, and if it’s yours it’ll come back to you” dance around in your head like Swayze did Baby!!
What fairy tale indoctrinated, Prince Charming chasing, love starved, horoscope reading, star crossed, past reconcilin’ woman in her right mind would say no to that? NOT ONE. But that is precisely the problem.
We all live in the now, and not in our past. However each moment we have lived has led us to where we are in the present. The present moment dictates our future. Not one of these three things are independent of each other as the past fuels the choices we make in our present, as the present becomes the past. The past and the present SHOULD build off each other, since inevitably they do anyway. The future itself is inevitably going to become the past as well. Nothing can ever be undone from the past. No amount of compensation could ever undo painful or incomplete experiences from the past. It cannot be ressurected. The past is etched, yet the story of the future is unwritten. Why junk up the book of your life with someone who thought they could do better than you, let you go and since deciding they are so fucked up and down on their luck NOW the ONE person who would take pity on their sorry ass is YOU? Is this really a romantic scenario? Is scrubbing up some jerk who shows up like an abused puppy
help please!!
on your doorstep pleading for mercy, forgiveness, and understanding (AND pussy) truly destiny? Isn’t Prince Charming supposed to be strong, considerate to no end, and confident on a white horse- not this beggin’ broken boy instead *adelevoice*?? Why does the old flame come back always needing and nevergiving? Raise your hand if your old flame came back after they went away, gained knowledge about the world to share with you, got rich, worked so hard until they could sweep you off your feet just to retire with you to a bungalow in Barbados but first they have to give you this five carat ring to show how much they’ve changed ? More than likely the old flame returns after being spurned by a woman who obviously has more damn sense than your sucker for love ass. Clap for your pride, self esteem and good sense, it has left the building.
Who Should You Shoot Down?
Truth is the satisfaction of seeing the crook that stole your heart come before the parole board of your judgment squirming for your favor should be enough. How can any self respecting woman choose a “future” with someone who has previously exhibited such serious choice issues? Rejection is often the Universe’s way of protecting you from yourself. The one who got away LEFT. HELLO!? The one who got away told you no over and over as you cried and begged please have a heart, but now your heart has to open up like Houston for Hurricane Katrina victims for them? NO FEMA!! Changing over time is a personal choice, and a person whose earned reputation precedes them should be looked at with a scrutinizing eye, not one of compassion. Being willing to be a halfway house for smooth criminals as they transition back into their old swagger could get you shot right in your soul, again.
Lot’s Wife turned to salt for trying to encase a memory of her past into her present and future. There is no need to look back on disaster when an unwritten future is ahead. Your experiences are for teaching, not for repeating, NOT FOR REPEATING, NOT FOR REPEATING. If you learned anything, you would have learned all the time, love, attention, and affection you gave that old flame who burned you would have best served to save yourself. But you didn’t learn did you….??
The Twitter world and the bloggers had a Rihanna smorgasbord as the notorious “starvation” tweet made its way around the internets. The roasting of Rihanna’s need to “starve” in order to look great for a photo shoot seemed to say that the singer was telling little girls that “starving” was the “RockStar” thing to do. Is Rihanna’s tweet a ringing endorsement of #teamanorexic or does it speak to the public’s unwavering desire for women to look a certain way to be considered hot or beautiful? Are the same people criticizing Rihanna for starving the same people that covet Coke bottle bodies and slim waistlines?
As a size 8, personally I have been called thick, overweight, and received words and looks of shock over my appearance. As if I didn’t know the size 4′s and 6′s were fitting snuggerly, friends, family, and random acquaintances have given me staunch reminders of my slimmer summers. Flames have reiterated to me all the sexual positions I could get thrown into, IF I was a just a little bit lighter. The glances in the mirror at the curves that songs like “Bootylicious” by Destiny’s Child had taught me to love were being replaced by fat grabbing examinations on my belly and thighs as I began to think, “maybe this jelly is a bit too bootylicious?” A former vegan, and a current vegetarian, I swiftly removed all dairy from diet, and then fasted for about 20 days eating less than 500 calories per day and drinking gallons of water. After dropping 4 inches or so, I began to feel and think thin again, until I ran into a friend who couldn’t wait to tell me I was unrecognizable almost because I was so thick.
Yeah.. I made a face like this...
Some women have more pressure on them to be thin than Obama has to be diplomatic with Republicans and simultaneously please the left. We are supposed to love and embrace ourselves no matter what size we are, as the whole world makes you feel like Free Willy gasping for breath on washed up on the shore for putting on a few el bees. I wondered as I read all the tweets roasting Rihanna’s choice of words on the Twitta, how many of them had called a girl fat, or thick that day. I thought about all the girls that felt a kinship with Rihanna because of her honesty about the expectations that were upon her. I looked at pictures of Beyonce alongside comments about her cottage cheese belly and watched videos of Brtney Spears’ Femme Fatale tour with posters pointing out how fat Britney’s size 6 was. Knowing that sex symbols of the past Marilyn Monroe and Dorothy Dandridge floated between a size 10 and a 14, its unnerving knowing they would be modern day fat fodder like Kirstie Alley if this was their hey day.
Health and wellness should be a forefront in all of our minds, but life, stress, and age can change a woman’s metabolism. We all aspire to fit that ONE pair of jeans, rock the photoshoot out, and look in the mirror and feel good about what reflects back to us. Diet and exercise are essential, but a demanding or fast paced lifestyle often dictates our choice more than our knowledge does. But the nitpicking that tons of women endure often forces them to starve, and binge, and binge, and starve. Even as icon Janet Jackson sang about “Control” back in the 80′s she wrestled with her inner fat ass. In search of perfection, our bodies take our abuse, and our minds filter the critiques and our soul endures. Rihanna simply tweeted what women all over the country do every single day in order to be the image their peers expect them to be. As convoluted as it is, their is much badassery in Rihanna telling the truth about what it feels like for a girl. To all the Mrs. She’s Too Big, Now She’s Too Thins across the world the only person’s opinion that matters is YOURS.
In order to overt the world from Rihanna’s cakes, Keri Hilson goes in snatch first on her new single “The Way You Love Me”. Reeking of laughable desperation, Miss Keri Baby licks doors and dry humps floors, gives The Chef Rick Ross a lapdance, as well as sings lyrics like “I got the kinda pussy that will keep you off the streets” in an attempt to ooze womanly seduction. Perhaps she thought she was grabbing her sexuality by its reigns and whooping us into submission, but Keri really just looks kinda pathetic.
Less is more. It’s natural to want to highlight the come hither features we are blessed to possess. An all out flesh fest for every Tom, Dick, and Rick Ross makes you come across easier than the Soul Train Scramble Board. Wild and looseyness will definitely attract the boys eyes, but along with all the “good” attention received unwanted sexual advances will plague you like bad credit. Also, no one takes anybody this sleazy seriously. So blinded by trying to be an individual and wanting to be seen as unique, many GROWN women have resorted to heaux tactics just to be noticed amongst the plethora of beauties in the world. Drunk off pussy power, these women have begun to think raw sexuality defines who they are as a person. Firing off cum shots as a personal attribute misfires because instead of owning your sexuality, sexuality begins to own you. What you think comes across as an insatiable appetite appears to be a primal Amazonic neediness that onlookers will fantasize about hitting, then unceremoniously quitting. What good is it to be a fantasy when the fantasy only runs deep as the last stroke? Most guys don’t even view these girls as breakfast the morning after material. Balancing sensuality is difficult for women because most are unaware of the natural voodoo that is in our clutches already. It is highly unnecessary unless your occupation is in porn or exotic dance to give too much in order to be seen as a young Venus. The brew of aesthetics, the way we dress and walk, as well as talk for us lucky girls already cooks up a dish of hot to trot. Personality, drive, and class in a woman added to the mix is what truly makes a woman sexy and attractive.
We don’t have to look at Keri Hilson as the only breaker of this lady law. A quick cruise on Facebook will show pics that would make Lil Kim cringe. Josephine Baker is somewhere in Heaven peeling a banana from her skirt, scratching her head in dismay wondering why we never really got it. Sensuality is a venomous, peculiar art that is so deadly it can even kill she who possesses it. If you are not a heaux, why wear a heaux’s uniform? No one is saying be a nun, but really Keri you don’t have to try this hard.
