Awesome & Fabulous!

You Need To Read This

2009-03-03T17:31:00.002-05:00

Veronica and I and our friends have had countless conversations about this subject. With ourselves, with other people, with each other.

The idea that black women cannot, or are told that we should not put ourselves first because of the crap that black men face on a daily basis. That whatever crappiness we face, especially at the hands of black men, is not to be discussed, but rather, swept under the rug where we pretend it doesn't exist.

It pisses me off. A lot. I've been blogging about how much it pisses me off and why it pisses me off for years.

But Latoya Peterson at Racialicious posted this and the conversation taking place in the comments is just as important as the original post.

You need to read this.

Seriously? "Black-cent?"

2009-03-03T14:42:00.003-05:00

Politico has an article up about dog-whistle politics and Prez. Obama's subtle/not-so-subtle way of deploying it in his speeches.

It includes a video, clips of him speaking to black and white audiences, including a hilarious bit of him telling the cashier at Ben's Chili Bowl, "Naw, we straight," when she asked him if he wanted change.

Now, I became familiar with the dog-whistle during the Clinton years because the man was a master of communication, and we all know that now. He could go into a black church, or a room full of intellectuals, or a meeting of blue-collar union workers and have everyone thinking he knew where they were coming from. He knew how to turn his southern accent up or down.

I suppose we all have tells that disclose to people our true selves. One could argue Obama's two biggest are 1) Michelle and 2) his affinity for Newports.

But aside from that, this caught my eye:

John McWhorter, a linguist at the conservative Manhattan Institute, said that he believes that in Obama’s case coded messaging, which can be a matter of words, sound or grammar or all of them, is partly conscious because “he knows it arouses black audiences.”

“Black English, especially the cadence, is becoming America’s youth lingua franca, especially since the mainstreaming of hip-hop. Its sound conveys warmth, authenticity and a touch of seductive danger not only to blacks but many whites, especially ones below about 50,” McWhorter said. “Obama’s tapping into that cadence helped win him the election. Imagine John Kerry or Hillary Clinton saying, ‘Yes, we can!’ It would have sounded phony — only in what I call a ‘black-cent’ can it sound prophetic and arousing.” (emphasis mine)

I wouldn't say "Yes we can" is anything like "naw, we straight," but seriously.

Black-cent? WTF?

I love how McWhorter says the cadence of Obama's voice is seductively dangerous, like he's got us all hypnotized because he said "naw, we straight" in a black-owned restaurant.

But what bothers me is that this man says, "Black English" and thinks it's ok. Of course I know what he meant, but it conveys this idea of other-ness to the way black people speak, as if the way black people speak English isn't really English at all.

Plus, well, all black people don't speak like that!

I mean, even in some southern states where people manage to mangle the English language beyond recognition, it's still called English. No one walks around talking about "Southern English," even when the people speaking it sound backwards and uneducated at worst, or like Blanche DuBois at best.

It's still just "English."

Sigh.

Stoopid Gender Role Stereotype Reinforcing Story of the Day

2009-02-25T16:54:00.005-05:00

And the prize goes to. . . drum roll please:

. . .

. . .

The Washington Post, for this A1 gem declaring that the broke mens no longer no what to do with themselves now that they're not rolling in dough thanks the anvil falling off a cliff that is the domestic economy.

How ever will they get a date if all the wimmins care about is moneh?

I am trying my best not to turn this into a vitriolic rant, but this article makes even less sense when taken in the context that women in the District experience the smallest pay gap in the nation: women here make about 92 cents per every dollar a man makes, compared to the nationwide average of 76 cents (Institute for Women's Policy Research data from 2002).

Women here have their own money-- real money, from real, challenging jobs. Women in the District, are the highest wage-earning females in the country, bringing home an average $37,800 per year.

And yet, we see this:

Dating in the time of the pink slip means feeling the squeeze of the drastically reduced paycheck, the sudden sting of the layoff. From investment bankers to real estate developers to construction workers, no job means no buying rounds of $15 martinis for a pretty woman and her girlfriends. No hosting parties in the bachelor loft. And often, no idea how to present one's new self on the dating market.

There are more holes in this story than I have sticks to poke through them, but several obvious ones right of the bat:

1) The premise that men and women are still dating based on 1950's ideas about who pays, who invites who, and the fact that a man is nothing without a big fat paycheck.

2) Its glaring heteronormativity. What happens to the entire argument if the parties dating are both women, or both men?

3) Sometimes broke-ass women mope about not being able to buy shit too.

And yet, it's so easy, so positively lazy to fall back on memes like this. Proof? Who needs proof?!? See below:

Formal studies on the matter are hard to find, and Washington area employment rates are still higher than those of many other metropolitan areas. But interviews with young singles in area nightclubs and cafes and at parties reveals that financial stress is affecting the romantic lives of those who have lost sizable disposable incomes (emphasis mine).

Wait, so there's no hard data? Who are these women? And why is this an A01 trend story? I mean, honestly, weren't the DABA girls enough?

*sticks head in oven*

You Knew it Was Going to be Bad

2009-02-19T23:56:00.004-05:00

But not this bad.

When Veronica and I went out last night with our friends on Valentine's Day, "Bad Girl" started playing over the radio.

I sort of winced.

"I love this song," I said. "But I feel guilty listening to it. I don't want to listen to any of Chris Brown's music."

The women in the car with us all had different opinions.

"I mean, I think it's awful what he did, but that doesn't make me dislike him as an artist," one said. "I'm still going to listen to his music."

I shook my head.

It doesn't work that way for me, with one glaring exception I can't shake.

I mean, I was a huge Larry Fitzgerald fan until I discovered he'd beaten up the mother of his child. Cute or no, that's a deal-breaker. And R. Kelly went out the window once someone exposed this man was peeing on children. Well, at least one child.

And now that the inevitable's taken place, and we all know just how awful Rihanna's injuries were, I don't see how there can be any modicum of understanding for Chris Brown.

This wasn't one punch, and even if it was, he'd still deserve to be roundly condemned. But there is no excuse for this.

None.

So what do we do? Can we support the man who did this anymore? Go to his concerts, buy his work on Itunes?

I can't.

I won't.

But what say you?

But Was The Heel Clear?

2009-02-18T13:22:00.003-05:00

I'm sorry.

I snorted out loud when I read this (via Washington Post).

A man and woman arranged through a prominent Internet site to meet Sunday in Fairfax County, but it apparently did not go well, and the man was allegedly attacked with a high-heeled shoe, county police said.

I mean, I know high heels hurt, but what else was the pro supposed to do? It's not like she'd be reimbursed by a union.

This is why you rely on the local print edition of your trusty indy weekly instead of Craigslist, folks. And why Dan Savage advises against finding pros on Craigslist. Or for that matter, finding clients on Craigslist.

*shaking my head*

Seriously?

2009-02-18T11:26:00.003-05:00

Let this marinate for a second. You can thank the New York Post.

NotSexism: Talking About Sports

2009-02-17T19:39:00.007-05:00

On this blog, we try to make a point of calling out sexism, not only to rant about it, but to call attention to something that needs to be recognized as a problem so that it may be eradicated.

It's not our only goal, but it's one of them.

However, I feel it's necessary to talk about something I'm referring to as NotSexism after reading a post by British journalist Katty Kay over at the Daily Beast.

Kay was complaining about the amount of sports lingo and analogies that go into discussing politics, and how new White House press secretary Robert Gibbs is a big fan of the practice. Kay alleges this is sexist because most women -- including, evidently, those covering the White House -- don't know anything or care about sports. According to Kay, when Gibbs or anyone else among the punditocracy start making sports references, it's sexist because they're deliberately excluding women.

Kay says:

Here’s how it works on TV shows. At about 9 a.m. on Sunday morning, the guests for a network talk show gather in the green room an hour before airtime for a sip of coffee and a slap of makeup. They chat. The conversation starts with the news topic of the day. It’s an animated discussion on the fiscal stimulus package/the latest machinations of the dastardly House of Representatives/the poppy crop in Afghanistan. Take your pick. OK, there’s a bit of the peacocks fanning their feathers about it, but it’s basically sober stuff. Until, some 20 minutes into the banter, the host, or one of the male guests, casually slips in the results of last night’s game. And that’s when the women quietly disappear into their notebooks.

*raises eyebrow*

I take offense to this for several reasons:

1) It suggests women, or at least the "normal" ones anyway, might be able to hold an intelligent conversation about politics, but know nothing about sports, which in itself is sexist and rather limiting. Talk about subscribing to rigid gender roles.

2) She's diminishing the cultural importance of sports, which is insulting, particularly to people (like me) who make careers out of finding important, relatable stories in sports and explaining, in very good prose, how sports is simply a microcosm and a reflection of society. If it wasn't so important to us, we wouldn't spend so many hours and money watching it and discussing it.

And Michael Phelps would still have all his endorsement deals.

Clearly this woman doesn't watch HBO's Real Sports.

3) She thinks football is complicated. (Ok, I realize that last point doesn't really count and is maybe a little mean, but really. Football is not that damn hard.)

I guess what really gets my goat is the suggestion that Gibbs' affinity for sports references only negatively affects women, when I'm sure there are men who cover the White House who couldn't care less about the shellacking Duke suffered at the hands of Carolina last week.

I'm all about calling out instances of sexism, but this one doesn't really hold water, and to whine about it kind of cheapens the real ones, ya know?

The Man of Our Nightmares

2009-02-15T23:07:00.007-05:00

We know D.C. is overrun with men like K. Bryan Johnson, and we try our best to steer clear of them.

You know the type: full of themselves, obsessed with how (supposedly) wonderful they are and how much everything they're wearing cost. They actually think they're something 'cause they're not in jail, have no kids, and a good job. You know, they want credit for things they're supposed to be doing.

Veronica and I have a name for them: Commodity Negroes.

Johnson is the epitome of a Commodity Negro, and well, you guys are smart enough to know that is not a compliment.

Isn't there some sort of dating Hail Mary we can all do to avoid being smited with a troll like this? God help us all.

Perhaps commenter mnbucklew said it best:

Dinner = $125
Jeans = $600
Boots = $1,000

Making a horse's @ss out of yourself in the Washington Post = PRICELESS!

Via Washington Post.

You're Kidding Me With This, Right?

2009-02-09T13:17:00.006-05:00

You know what, $500,000 a year (roughly $270,000 a year after taxes) in New York is plenty, plenty I say, for someone who helped drive the country into an economic recession the likes of which haven't been seen since the Great Depression.

The Grey Lady has an article about where just all that executive salary goes, and I'm pretty sure it's tongue-in-cheek, but well, not all that sure.

Well, I've got some advice for these people:

When you screw up big, you fall big. Take your kids out of Horace Mann, rent a Hamptons house instead of owning one, stop spending so much on vacations, and raise your own damn kids instead of relying on a nanny who doesn't look like you or have time for her own offspring.

And try shopping at, I dunno, Trader Joe's instead of Whole Foods for that macrobiotic diet that costs $15,000 per year to maintain.

Do I need to continue?

Plenty of people get by on much less than $500,000/year in New York. I know it's difficult to fathom, but there are people, people who are not your nanny or your doorman, people with college degrees, who get by quite comfortably on salaries that aren't even six figures.

Try it.

Hump Day Cute

2009-02-04T19:55:00.004-05:00

My affinity for Roomba-pet You Tube videos knows no bounds, but I'm just going to post this one after a long day.

I think we all need it, especially seeing as how even Miss Marche got meanface syndrome today, and that almost never happens.

Cotton Pickin' Day Canceled; No Word Yet on Watermelon Week

2009-02-04T15:47:00.007-05:00

Just read for yourself....

From the Clarion-Ledger:

HATTIESBURG — Ray Coleman was shocked Monday on learning his stepson's Black History Month calendar had declared Thursday Cotton Picking Day at Lillie Burney Elementary and invited students to dress as slaves.

...The themed day was canceled Tuesday as part of the school's Black History dress week after Coleman met with Superintendent Annie Wimbish. It was replaced with Career Day.

..."I think the committee had the right heart when considering this and certainly had no negative intentions, because this is part of our history," Wimbish said.

"Different people have different perceptions, so I don't know if it would have been offensive. But we certainly want to work with our parents and listen to their concerns."

*blink*

....

Dude, seriously. Get it together.

I am not naive enough to believe that folks don't understand why SHIT LIKE THIS IS NOT OKAY.

It's fucking 2009. We've been dealing with angry, oppressed people long enough to know what will and what DEFINITELY will push their buttons, and we're smart enough to know that some shit just will NEVER be in good taste. So miss me with that "we-didn't-know-it-would-be-offensive" cowcrap. You knew it would be offensive. If your mother raised you with some good sense, you KNOW what's offensive. So stop playing ignorant, 1) because you know better, 2) because it's getting REALLY old, and 3) because you're insulting my fucking intelligence.

"Hellooooo? We're Here Too!"

2009-02-04T15:18:00.001-05:00

Apparently, Sasha and Malia are too unique for their own good.

Everyone is going bananas for the First Daughters, and advertising execs want to jump on the bandwagon, but... they can't find any little black girls.

The president of Wilhemina's kids and teens division told New York Magazine:

"It’s a very specific age and a very specific ethnicity, so there aren’t that many girls that would necessarily fit the bill."

*blink*

Annnnnnnnnd... *blink* again.

Because, you know, cute adorable young black girls don't exist.

This has, as it should, pissed off blogger Danielle Belton, a.k.a. the Black Snob. So she's launching the "Cute Black Girls Are Everywhere, You Idiots" Campaign, where's she's asking readers to send in pictures of their adorable, daughters, grand-daughters, sisters, nieces, cousins and friends to prove that we exist. I'm going to round up pictures of my friends' kids and the little girls in my dance class.

We are not leprechauns. We really exist. And I should know; I was an impossibly adorable little black girl just a couple decades ago.

(Me and my dad, circa 1986. He's not a leprechaun either... but that's a different post for a different time....)

Get Your Stick On

2009-02-04T15:07:00.005-05:00

I think this is so cute!

Gmail is offering something for nothing, plus $0.42 postage and the cost of an envelope.

Something I haven't used since I stuck one for the World Wildlife Fund on my trombone case in middle school: stickers!

Yes, folks. If you send them a stamped, self-addressed envelope, they will send you this cute set of Gmail stickers-- and I am just dorky enough to stick them everywhere.

They're Wonkeriffic!

2009-02-04T14:29:00.007-05:00

I did something today I have been dreading since the first nip of cold air made its way east last year.

I finally bought a pair of boots. Flat ones.

They are the only flats I own aside from my Nikes, and a pair of Carolina blue Sperrys which do not leave the house. (My mother, god bless her, bought them. Sometimes she hits. Sometimes she misses. The Tarheel blue topsiders were a definite miss. *shudder*)

After sliding around and walking waaay too carefully during the last ice storm, it occurred to me that I better invest in a pair of the riding boots that have become so popular in nerd-centric D.C. this winter. Step onto L Street downtown, and they're everywhere.

I was trying to resist falling victim to The Wonk. It's the main reason why I maintain a steadfast refusal, Ted Stevens-style, to set foot in an Ann Taylor.

But alas, there's a Filene's and a Nine West within a minute of the Farragut North metro station where I get off, both of which carry a decent selection of size 11's and well, now we know why SNM is poor.

So I stopped in, and within 8 minutes, I was walking out in my new clunky flat boots, which were an extra 20 percent off.

By the time I got to work I wanted to kick myself, even though they were basically a less expensive version of the Frye Engineer boots I'd been eyeing.

"They look like clodhoppers," I cried, silently picturing Stacy and Clinton ripping the things from my feet and throwing them in a trashcan.

But my feet seem to like them, and my almost non-existent arches needed a rest. I suppose I will have to learn to stop worrying and love the wonk.

But I'm still staying the hell away from Ann Taylor.

"The Last Bastion of Acceptable Sexism"

2009-02-01T16:42:00.012-05:00

As a female sports journalist, let me tell you, dealing with sexism is something that never goes away. You just take it for granted that it's part of the job and find a way to deal.

Water. Duck's back. Keep it moving.

But Paul Farhi's 1A article in the Washington Post has prompted me to take down I've erected between my career and blogging because this is something I feel deeply passionate about.

I knew I wanted to be a sports journalist when I was 14 years old, and I'd always had a passion for sports, especially football.

I remember the exact day I decided for sure I was going to cover sports.

I was watching the Baltimore Ravens, led by sigh-inducing Trent Dilfer, with a football buddy of mine when a lightbulb went off.

"I want John Madden's job."

Something had sparked a flame of feminist indignation in the pit of my stomach about watching women relegated to sideline reporting while men got to do play-by-play and color commentary in the booth.

I decided I was going to be the one to change all that. (It's weird. I hate being photographed casually. But I'm extremely comfortable in front of a camera when I'm explaining something.)

After I got to college, my plans changed. I had a more realistic hold on where I could take my career, and my talents pointed to writing rather than broadcasting. Plus, I didn't want to be subject to a daily barrage of judgment about my looks, or have a contract specifying how I could and could not wear my hair, makeup, etc.

But I've always held women such as Christine Brennan, Lesley Visser, and Andrea Kremer in high esteem.

These women are veterans. They are professionals, and they more than know their stuff, like so many other female sports journalists out there.

It burns me up that sexism is still such an accepted part of working in sports that women are privately--as opposed to publicly-- seething about the fact that there is a glass ceiling in sports journalism, for fear of angering the boss over a perfectly legitimate grievance.

Then again, ESPN was slow to act when men were acting like apes in the company cafeteria, and if you want more evidence of the company's institutionalized sexism, well, the fact that Mike Tirico still has a job is living, breathing proof.

Wrote Farhi: ESPN's top personnel executive says the absence of women is in part a reflection of what fans want.

Seriously?

That's the best excuse TV executives can come up with? Don't blame us, it's our pig-headed fans? The fact that this is coming from a network that posits itself as the "Worldwide Leader in Sports" is even more ridiculous.

You won't do it because you're afraid of losing a few idiot gut-scratching viewers and some ad money? Let's think about these viewers for a minute.

. . .

Where the hell are they going to go? Fox Sports Net? *snorts*

You're the Worldwide Leader, ESPN. You own so much of the frickin' sports television market you make everyone else look like a joke. Stop cow-towing to sexism and put a woman, no, two, in the booth already. On football. On a regular basis.

Ugh.

This is why I'm a member of AWSM. And it's why women in sports journalism need our own version of Richard Prince. Hell, maybe I'll do it.

Oh and if you still think it's okay to exclude women from this club, and shrug off the harassment that every single one of us has stories about, take out the quantifier of "female" and replace it with "black."

See what I mean?

Video: I Am Sean Bell

2009-01-23T14:33:00.001-05:00

I couldn't get through the first 30 seconds without my eyes misting over. Again, another gem I found via Macon D at Stuff White People Do.

I AM SEAN BELL, black boys speak from Stacey Muhammad on Vimeo.

Screwed from Childhood

2009-01-23T14:24:00.002-05:00

I found this via Stuff White People Do, on a post where blogger Macon D asks why Caucasians allow their children to watch programming with racist (and sexist) undertones.

The video is brilliant -- and very eye-opening.

We Still Love You!

2009-01-07T14:36:00.004-05:00

Yeah, we know.

Posting lately has been sporadic and sparse, and we're working to get back to our regular Awesome & Fabulous selves.

Unfortunately, Duck is encumbered in a faceoff of epic proportions with Verizon.

Kinda like this.

So as soon as that's straightened out, we'll back back at full force and a little more balanced.

I mean really, someone has to counter all my cynicism, right?

Well, It Used To Be a Ford Taurus

2009-01-07T14:04:00.005-05:00

Sometimes I wish someone would conduct a study to see if there's a temporary spike in the sale of contraceptives whenever a story like this comes out, complete with causation and correlation analysis.

This is why my teacher friends advocate for people to get licenses to have children. I mean, it's fascist as hell, but maybe you wouldn't have situations like this one.

Some little boy in Virginia was determined to get to school Tuesday. (Not the little boy in the photo. But clearly, he has no business being where he is, either.)

So determined that he took his mother's keys and attempted to drive himself to school.

He's six.

Less than two miles away, he wrapped his mother's Ford Taurus around a utility pole.

He didn't want to miss breakfast and P.E.

Sigh.

If this happened in D.C., I would say this is precisely why you don't pay students to come to school, but it didn't, so the only thing I can say is: Lady! Yes, you, Jacqulyn D. Waltman.

Get.

Your.

Child.

And stop letting him play Grand Theft Auto!

'Weight Is Not An Infectious Disease'

2009-01-05T16:21:00.005-05:00

We all know that sexism is a worldwide problem, and well, here's today's depressing proof that it's not going away any time soon.

This time, it's in India, where 10 women were fired by state-owned Air India for being too fat.

Yum! Government-sanctioned discrimination for everyone!

There's no excuse behind this. These women weren't morbidly obese and chucked to save a few gallons of jet fuel; the move was purely aesthetically motivated.

And if you don't believe me, check out 51-year old Sheela Joshi, who was fired after 27 years of service.

Would you call her fat? Yeah, me neither. This also brings to light the issue of fat shaming, but I'm handing that off to the champs at Feministing.

Via Times Online.

When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Kathy Griffin

2009-01-01T12:48:00.002-05:00

So, Kathy Griffin hosted New Year's Eve with Anderson Cooper for the second straight year, live and uncensored. I'm so glad they asked her to come back, if only because I feel like she's Anderson's personal hag and one day, maybe, he will actually feel comfortable coming out with her by his side.

Although, given his obsession with the Real Housewives of Atlanta, I'm not sure it's really necessary.

Anyhow, it doesn't top "Suck it, Jesus. This award is my god now," but it comes awfully close. CNN better invite her back next year, dammit.

Enjoy.

All I Want For Christmas

2008-12-22T18:15:00.003-05:00

... is someone who loves this song as much as I do.

Jessi Klein waxes nostalgic at the Daily Beast over the greatest, most wonderful, awesomest Christmas song ever and the only one I play in the middle of July with the windows rolled down just because I love it that much.

Says Klein:

Most Christmas songs are about one of three things: Jesus, weather, or gifts. But there’s a less frequently played collection of songs on a more taboo fourth topic: wanting to get laid on Christmas. Um…this is my category.

I couldn't agree more.

Just for Veronica: Walk It Out

2008-12-22T16:00:00.001-05:00

May Stain Some Surfaces

2008-12-22T14:45:00.006-05:00

The latest technology on the doll front seems to have been projected onto this monstrously scary creation called a "Baby Alive" doll.

The thing actually poops and smells and creates stains and does all manner of things that an inanimate object should never do.

I mean honestly, you can give your Sims free will, but you can be sure that they will never actually jump out of the computer and poop on you.

Add free will to this child-of-Chucky manifestation and you'll end up with mushed-up "green beans" in your lap.

*Shudders*

"For us, the peeing and pooping is pretty magical," said Kathleen Harrington, senior brand manager for Hasbro's Baby Alive dolls. "As adults, we might be a little grossed out. But it's so magical and so funny and so silly for these girls. This little doll is coming to life, so the little girl doesn't believe it's just a doll. It's her baby." Harrington calls it part of the doll's "Wow!" factor.

I wonder if it will steal your car keys and scream, "I hate my life!" if you keep it around for another 16 years?

Oh, and another question, though it's one I think we already know the answer to: why aren't any of these ridiculous toys marketed to boys?

Perhaps a G.I. Joe who shits his pants and bleeds when he gets shot is in the works. Who knows?

Via Washington Post.

I'd Have Been Arrested Too...

2008-12-19T16:03:00.002-05:00

I have a 13-year-old sister.

A 13-year-old sister.

Who I kept thinking about when I read this.

I won't paraphrase, I'll just cut and paste. But believe me when I say...

... I would kill someone.

Remember Jena Six? Isn't this an equally pressing reason to mount up?

(From the Houston Press Blog via Feministing.)

It was a little before 8 at night when the breaker went out at Emily Milburn's home in Galveston. She was busy preparing her children for school the next day, so she asked her 12-year-old daughter, Dymond, to pop outside and turn the switch back on.

As Dymond headed toward the breaker, a blue van drove up and three men jumped out rushing toward her. One of them grabbed her saying, "You're a prostitute. You're coming with me."

Dymond grabbed onto a tree and started screaming, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy." One of the men covered her mouth. Two of the men beat her about the face and throat.

As it turned out, the three men were plain-clothed Galveston police officers who had been called to the area regarding three white prostitutes soliciting a white man and a black drug dealer.

All this is according to a lawsuit filed in Galveston federal court by Milburn against the officers. The lawsuit alleges that the officers thought Dymond, an African-American, was a hooker due to the "tight shorts" she was wearing, despite not fitting the racial description of any of the female suspects. The police went to the wrong house, two blocks away from the area of the reported illegal activity, Milburn's attorney, Anthony Griffin, tells Hair Balls.

After the incident, Dymond was hospitalized and suffered black eyes as well as throat and ear drum injuries.

Three weeks later, according to the lawsuit, police went to Dymond's school, where she was an honor student, and arrested her for assaulting a public servant. Griffin says the allegations stem from when Dymond fought back against the three men who were trying to take her from her home. The case went to trial, but the judge declared it a mistrial on the first day, says Griffin. The new trial is set for February.

"I think we'll be okay," says Griffin. "I don't think a jury will find a 12-year-old girl guilty who's just sitting outside her house. Any 12-year-old attacked by three men and told that she's a prostitute is going to scream and yell for Daddy and hit back and do whatever she can. She's scared to death."

Since the incident more than two years ago, Dymond regularly suffers nightmares in which police officers are raping and beating her and cutting off her fingers, according to the lawsuit.
Griffin says he expects to enter mediation with the officers in early 2009 to resolve the lawsuit.

We've got calls in to the officers' lawyer; we'll let you know if we hear something.

Update: This is from the officers' lawyer, William Helfand:

Both the daughter and the father were arrested for assaulting a peace officer. "The father basically attacked police officers as they were trying to take the daughter into custody after she ran off."

Also, "The city has investigated the matter and found that the conduct of the police officers was appropriate under the circumstances," Helfand says. "It's unfortunate that sometimes police officers have to use force against people who are using force against them. And the evidence will show that both these folks violated the law and forcefully resisted arrest."

Loretta Sanchez is Special. Linda's Just Pregnant.

2008-12-16T17:45:00.007-05:00

You know, you have to love California, if only because it's a repository of crazy zaniness that never gets old.

For example, Rep. Loretta Sánchez (D-Calif.) has released her latest Christmas card.

As if last year's wasn't cukoo enough.

What is it with her and that damn cat?

Of course, I got Loretta confused with her sister, Rep. Linda Sánchez (D-Calif.) who has been in the news 'cause she'll be the first Congressional singleton to pop out a kid while in office.

What was really funny though, was the outrage this seemed to spark with one Post reader who found it necessary to pen this hilarious letter to the editor:

Can You Say 'Illegitimate'?
I am outraged about Amy Argetsinger and Roxanne Roberts's Nov. 21 Reliable Source item "Oh, Baby! Big News for Sanchez."

What the heck is this world coming to? Not only are "celebrities" making news on a daily basis, but now we have a member of Congress having a baby even though she is not married.

Wake up and think before you glamorize unwed pregnancy. Is it any wonder our young people have babies while they themselves are still babies?

Rep. Linda Sánchez (D-Calif.) should be ashamed of herself. Sex is private. Having babies out of wedlock is wrong. Stop giving these people attention.

-- Lynn McDonald

Alexandria

Outraged! How about that! Usually people are outraged over, I don't know, people dying or babies going hungry. But this broad wants to pick a fight because a 43-year-old woman got knocked up by her boyfriend (who is really her partner, because honestly, "boyfriend" should be reserved for boys and "man friend" just sounds creepy).

Regardless, the Sanchez sisters make for endless entertainment, and hey, who doesn't appreciate that?

Via Wonkette.

I Ain't Superficial

2008-12-16T16:31:00.005-05:00

I'm nonconforming, impulsive, expressive, romantic, intuitive, sensitive, and emotional.

Well, according to this thing I am.

And weirdly enough, it seems to know exactly what I should be doing with my life just by the way I clicked on a bunch of colored squares.

Veronica and our friend Marcus jumped down my throat when he came to visit at Halloween and I unabashedly proclaimed that yes, looks, among other things, do matter, and yes, I’m picky.

I'll spare you the specifics.

Evidently they require a longer time to figure out whether or not to throw back a fish. Me? Not so much. It’s either there, or it ain’t, and if it ain’t, well, I’m not wasting my time and you shouldn’t waste yours.

I’m not forcing the ball to T.O. when Witten’s wide open in the end zone, so to speak. I happen to be a fervent supporter of check downs. Lots and lots of check downs.

Anyway, my obsession with aesthetics has a valuable place in society. See:

The Dewey Color System is the world's first and only validated, color-based personality career testing instrument. Based on our experience and your interests, your best suited occupations are listed below.

Best Occupational Category

You're a CREATOR

Key Words:
Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional
These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.
CREATOR OCCUPATIONS
Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.
CREATOR WORKPLACES
Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.
Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.
2nd Best Occupational Category

You're a RESEARCHER

Key Words:
Independent, Self-Motivated, Reserved, Introspective, Analytical, and Curious
These investigative types gather information, analyze and interpret data, and inquire to uncover new facts. They have a strong scientific orientation, enjoy academic or research environments and prefer self-reliant jobs. Dislikes are group projects, selling, and repetitive activities.

But how the hell did they figure this out by which squares I clicked first? Especially the bit about group projects, which I detest.

Weird. What does yours say?

At Least It Wasn't a Soccer Cleat

2008-12-14T15:23:00.007-05:00

An imagined conversation in Iraq:

Secret Service Agent #1: What the hell happened to you?

Secret Service Agent #2: Didn't you see the news?

SSA #1: No.

SSA #2: I got hit in the head. With a shoe.

SSA #1: Aww, is _____ (insert SSA #2 spouse name) beating up on you again? Looks like she clipped you with a stiletto. You really gotta leave that woman.

SSA #2: No. Someone was throwing shoes at the POTUS.

SSA #1: What?

SSA #2: Some pissed-off person took of his shoes. And threw them at Bush. And it hit me.

SSA #1: Man, that sucks. But you know, at least if you're still around to guard Obama, you'll probably just get hit with a pair of panties. I'm sure _______ would like that.

Could You Do It?

2008-12-14T10:00:00.004-05:00

The Washington Post features a story about an Iranian woman was disfigured after she spurned a man's advances.

She didn't want to marry him, so he poured sulfuric acid on her face.

Now, as part of his sentencing, she has the opportunity to legally put five drops of the same stuff in each of his eyes.

Talk about an eye for an eye.

My question is, could you do it?

And does it do her any good if she goes through with it?

Awesomely Fab: Lily Allen

2008-12-14T00:18:00.004-05:00

I like Brit Brit's "Womanizer."

There. I'm not afraid to say it. I always sing it when I hear it.

But my God, I love Lily Allen for her non-augmented, non-over-produced-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life voice.

I think I like it even better than the original.

Sorry, Brit.

What say you?

Oh... Caroline....

2008-12-11T17:05:00.002-05:00

Okay, so... how many of us have been here?

Swoon: Adrian Grenier

2008-12-11T14:50:00.003-05:00

I already have this weird fixation on him anyway.

It's the eyes and the hair . . . mostly the hair-- that manages to trump his perpetual scruffiness.

But this makes him even dreamier: his house is green! And purty. It's so not bachelor-paddy.

So girls, how much effort/care do you put into decorating your own house? And how much do you care if the dude you're seeing has no real taste aside from owning the requisite bachelor black leather couch and abnormally large television?

Via Apartment Therapy.

So, Yeah. Come. Or Not. How 'Bout Not?

2008-12-11T14:04:00.004-05:00

I have a confession to make: I am dreading the week of Jan. 20th.

Whatever feelings I might have had about the actual inauguration have been gripped by other worries: namely, navigating large swaths of people who don't know where they're going so I can get to work.

It does seem, as Salon points out, that the D.C. government has thrown up its hands and is content to let whatever happens happen.

In the mean time, I'm beginning to just wish I could leave for the weekend and go someplace warm and sparsely populated where everyone knows exactly where they're going and how to get there, where no one is getting sworn into anything.

Leave the Oprah-worshipping to someone else.

But you know, that sounds mean. How about this: If any of you, or enough of you come to D.C. for the ceremony, let us know in the comments and we'll organize an A&F happy hour.

Otherwise, I will be snuggled under the covers, staying warm.

It's a Recession, So Do It Your Damn Self: Hair

2008-12-10T11:54:00.013-05:00

Times is hard, as Lynnette would say. And some of my sistafriends are going through it with their hair. Relaxer touch-ups can cost anywhere from 50 bucks on up, so the decision can often come down to choosing between groceries... or a perm. I can't say I'd blame a chick for picking up some ramen noodles after a fresh press, but shit -- these days, a well-balanced meal is hard to come by.

But just because the economy is in a craptacular state doesn't mean your hair has to be too.

Now's as good a time as ever to start experimenting with DIY hair. Thanks to this thing called the interwebs, there are a wealth of resources to guide as you forgo the salon chair and become one with your tresses. It'll be a good thing for your hair too, as going the DIY route has a magical way of teaching you about what is or isn't healthy for your locks.

I'm a naturally curly girl (3c, if you know what that means), so I've been on this DIY kick for a minute. But lately I've been wanting to experiment with new styles -- without experimenting with my (non-existent) money. Thank god for YouTube and the bevy of beauty bloggers all over the web.

Today I'm rocking something called a "bantu-knot out," which I learned how to do in this video. (I made the knots significantly bigger so my curls would be looser.) And a few months back, I also tried the "curly 'fro," inspired by this YouTube natural hair guru.

(P.S. Doesn't my picture look like something out of some professional directory? Or like, a profile in Essence or something? That's that cameraphone photography right there, son!)

If you're not natural, don't fret. Bloggers like Wes at Spiced Honey and Kai at Mane and Chic are good for posting super-cute, super-simple styles that can work on all hair types. You can also do the old-standby style that my roommate lives by -- dampen your hair and put into large cornrows or flat-twists, and wake up the next morning with lots and lots o' texture. And you can never go wrong with a good ol' roller-set.

So friends, I'm curious... when you can't afford to spend your Saturday morning in a chair, how do you keep your locks in tip-top shape? And what creative ways do you keep it looking cute?

Uhhhhhh... Tina?

2008-12-09T00:10:00.002-05:00

No.

(Via The YBF.)

Something's Wrong With This Picture.

2008-12-08T14:53:00.012-05:00

Now, I'm no theologian or biblical scholar... but I have a serious problem with this.

Yes, that's a church. Yes, those are SUVs. Yes, they're parked on a pulpit... with a pastor praying over them.

Yes. That just happened.

The New York Times and Reuters both ran stories today about yesterday's service at Greater Grace Temple church in Detroit. Three vehicles were rolled in for the pastor's sermon, "A Hybrid Hope," in which he urged the congregration to pray as Congress decides whether or not to give the Big Three automakers billions of dollars in bailout money.

It's a scary situation for folks in Detroit, to be sure, as many of them depend on their jobs in the industry for survival. It is a time for people of faith (myself included) to be in prayer for those struggling in this economy. The Times article said that the pastor "encouraged the congregation to pray, not that Congress would 'do the right thing' and approve loaning money to the car companies, but that Detroiters would 'make it' through these tough times." Understandable.

But... you still have union officials coming to address the congregation (which seems exploitative to me); you're praying for an industry whose leaders led it into the tank long before anyone started talking about a recession (and then flew private jets to Washington to beg for a handout); and you're instructing parishioners to approach a trio of shiny new SUVs for praying and annointing with holy oil.

Does this bother anyone else?

The whole thing speaks to a larger issue I have with the entity known as the black church, especially the "mega-church" (a subject for a whoooooole 'nother post). The theatrics, the "prosperity gospel" and attempts to appeal to people have gotten in the way of the message of the Gospel.

I mean, seriously... what are we really worshipping here?

"We Know This Is New For You..."

2008-12-06T20:19:00.007-05:00

You know times are bad when the L.A. Times publishes a guide to being poor.

Today's edition includes an outline of services for those in need of food, shelter or healthcare. It explains how to find food pantries, cautions that public housing may be scarce, and outlines options for those without medical insurance.

I gotta admit, dialing 211 is new to me. But the fact that a newspaper has to explain what Section 8 is, to me at least, a little amusing... but more so sad.

Maybe it's the reality I grew up in. My family, thankfully, was relatively stable, but we had plenty of friends that relied on public assistance. They had to figure out the system long before any newspaper would publish a guide to help them.

So you may understand why I read the article with a little bit of a smirk and lot of cynicism. Now it's important to explain how people can get help. Now it's necessary because that magic demographic known as "newspaper readers" suddenly needs to figure out how to survive.

I'm not making light of anyone's misfortune, but sometimes, you just can't help what you think.

Weekend Gloss: Pink Poodle

2008-12-06T18:08:00.006-05:00

I'm something of a beauty product junkie. Liners, shadows, luminizers, glosses... you name it, I got it. And I got it bad.

So bad that I bartered my soul the first time I stepped into Sephora. Now I'm indebted to the Bronzer Gods to use my powers for good -- hence, the Weekend Gloss. Here I share with you, my dear friends, the product I've been loving for the last week, and that I'd recommend everyone to go try. (I'm not saying buy it... just try it. That's what the testers are for anyway.) And then you can tell me your reaction -- or if you know of a similar product that's just as fab.

This Weekend: MAC Lipglass in Pink Poodle.

Who said you couldn't wear bright colors? Your mom? I mean, Moms is cool and all, but she's tragically misled.

For far too long, women of color have been told (and some actually believe!) that they can't rock bright colors. Too loud, some would say. I say... pshaw! Why shouldn't you be vibrant? What's so bad about being bold? Nothing, which is why this little tube is my flashy new best friend.

Pink Poodle is a hot, blue-based pink gloss with just a touch of shimmer. And the picture really doesn't do it justice -- this baby is bright. But it's sheer enough that you can control the intensity by applying it in layers.

The best part is that it's flattering on a range of skin tones, as you can see above on me and my ~~guinea pig~~ girl Lynnette. The trick is finding a neutral lip liner to bring the whole look together, and BAM! A fresh pop of color on your face.

So friends, y'all have an assignment for the week: Go ahead and test out Pink Poodle at the MAC counter (or any similarly bright gloss from any other brand) and let me know what you think. Or, if you already have your own favorite bright gloss, share it below.

Have a fly weekend. :o)

Awesome and Fab: Howard University

2008-12-06T17:04:00.008-05:00

As the HNIC continues to piece together his administration, a current of intellectualism has been identified as one of its most distinctive characteristics.

Which is great.

Smart people are awesome.

But I do hope Pres. Homeslice remembers that intellectual elites don't just come from the Ivy League.

They come from Georgetown, and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. From Duke and Emory and the University of Southern California. From Stanford and American and Berkeley.

And they come from Howard.

It's a school with a list of cherished and proud alumni that any institution would be proud to have, and he'd be a fool to ignore the academics from it.

We don't just produce entertainers (Diddy, Phylicia Rashad). We produce our share of talented intellectuals too (Toni Morrison, Thurgood Marshall).

We produce more black people with graduate degrees than any other institution in the world, and let me tell you, it's not because they're all getting easy rides.

There are many who harbor the belief that HBCUs such as Howard, Morehouse, Spelman, and others are somehow inferior to other insitutions. That the graduates of Howard could not possibly be as gifted as those from Harvard.

And they would be wrong.

Obama's been to Howard. We gave him an honorary degree. In a month or so, he'll live right down the street from it. He would be remiss to ignore the products of one of the nation's greatest institutions of higher learning, and it would mean so much if he would recognize them.

Because while most people in the DMV, regardless of race, recognize and understand, at least on a rudimentary level, the legacy and historical significance of Howard University, few non-blacks outside the area do.

A couple of high-level, merit-based appointments could change that.

Cough, cough, Shirley Franklin, cough, cough.

I won't call Howard the "black Harvard," as it's been called before, because it's a backhanded compliment if there ever was one, as this Morehouse grad attests in the New York Times, which labeled his institution as a black Ivy League school.

Howard isn't the "black" anything. It's just Howard.

And that's more than good enough.

How Do You Take Your Racism? Cream, Sugar, or Straight Up?

2008-12-06T15:16:00.009-05:00

Latoya Peterson over at Racialicious poses the question of whether it's easier to deal with overt or hidden racism, something I feel like I've been tackling ever since living in two places, post-college, where I thought I'd go nuts.

Growing up in a small town in North Carolina, I was always readily aware of overt racism, particularly if I happened to be walking with both of my parents. And I thought that would drive me nuts. I vowed to leave the South and never come back.

But the sort of insidious, institutional, hard-to-put-your-finger-on-but-you-know-it's-there racism is so much worse.

I dealt with it in Kansas City, Mo. and in the consumerist, overpriced, materialistic mecca that is Orange County, Calif.

People have so many other different ways of communicating to you that you do not belong, and believe me, they are effective for all their subtlety.

It's crazy-making, because it encourages so much self-doubt, and it strips away at your confidence. You're unable to defend yourself because you're not sure if you should be, or if it's all in your head.

My black father understood perfectly. He never questioned me when I told my parents of something a teacher or a stranger said or did that set off my "this is not-quite-right" barometer.

But my Dutch mother, raised in Amsterdam, was not so keen. Simply said, she just didn't get it.

Commenter Atropa says it best:

It really bothers me when progressives do stupid shit like say something that sets off my “that’s sexist/racist/classist/etc!” alarm, but isn’t immediately obvious because how do I articulate that? Especially to people who are operating under the assumption that intent matters?

Unless people have already reached the place where the ends are more important than the intent behind it, that’s not even a conversation worth having. It is my breaking point, where I decide to walk away and burn the bridge with precious few exceptions. But, that’s not really productive, now is it? It’s protecting myself. I don’t know what to do with that.

So. How do you take your racism?

Cougar: Because "Venus Man Trap" Was Already Taken

2008-12-06T12:53:00.013-05:00

Alex Chadwick of Slate and NPR had the pleasure of interviewing a MILF in his last segment for the Slate, who frankly, came off just as creepy as a 37-year old man screwing around with his neighbor's 17-year old daughter.

As much as Lew Ashby tries to make an endearing case for this, it's still creepy and gross.

But for the most part, there's a huge double standard.

When old men date young women, as they've done centuries, no one calls them a lion, or a tiger, or a bear. There's no special name for the lecherous brand of man who preys after youth like a vampire risen from his coffin, seeking out fresh necks to bite.

Although you'd better believe the woman in the arrangement immediately gets stuck with the "Gold Digger" moniker. And what? Hef gets stuck with "Playboy?" Even though he's clearly "Play senior citizen" with one foot in the grave?

And yet, older women get stuck with "cougar," which makes me think they would have gotten stuck with "praying mantis" if it was two syllables, the idea being that women are predators who catch young men and then eat them.

Even though there's this seeming acceptance of women as cougars (I really hate that word), it's just as limiting as any other label. We think of them as plucked and Botoxed and lacking self-awareness, showing way too much cleavage and trying too hard.

They're never Nico. They're always Kirby's mom.

And this woman, looking to relive her teenage years through "Trevor," is not helping. High school is over! Move on!

And please, get off Facebook.

I'm just wondering. If it's possible to be a cougar without being a "cougar?"

Damn, Homie, You Too?

2008-12-06T09:08:00.003-05:00

Eight hun'ned jobs at Viacom, 12,000 at AT&T... and now not even blogs are safe.

Gawker's made cuts, some Jezebel writers are now part-time, and Stereohyped is gone. Simply gone.

This recession is a bitch. That is all.

Sarah Palin is a Female Version of a Hustla

2008-12-06T00:49:00.009-05:00

And the money just keeps piling up.

At this point, does anyone actually know the cost, in toto, of Sarah Palin's aesthetics to the RNC?

According to the New York Times, there's the initial $150,000 for clothes from Saks and Needless Markup, another $165,000 for hair and makeup, plus another $23,000 worth of new receipts for crap the RNC is still tabulating.

Which so far totals $338,000 just for the way this woman looks.

You know, I must have had it wrong, somewhere along the way.

I thought the whole point of being the "Hottest Governor From the Coldest State" (can you feel them? can you feel my eyes rolling in unison with yours in disgust?) was that you didn't need to pay anyone all the money to make you look good because it's already built in.

You know, like those five-in-one-use pasta cookers?

Yeah, evidently not.

I swear, if Talking Points Barbie somehow develops a convincing patina of intelligence strong enough to wipe away the memory of that horrid, insipid, make-me-wish-we-didn't-both-have-ovaries Katie Couric interview, and actually becomes the Republican nominee for president in 2012, I will shoot myself in the head.

Note to Palin: "What newspapers do you read every day?" is not a gotcha question unless you don't fucking read.

Please drill it baby drill into your head that Africa is a continent, not a country, and that in order to be president of the United State of America, you must be smarter than a fifth grader.

That is all.

Awesomely Fab: Jessica Cox

2008-12-05T13:38:00.006-05:00

She can do more with her big toe than most people can do with their whole body.

Dear Jessica,

Can you please teach me to fly with my feet?

-SNM

This woman kicks butt.

You Know It's Hard Out Here For a Blogger

2008-12-05T13:22:00.006-05:00

Ok, so we know you read.

We know you come to our site, and your eyeballs be lurking around, reading our stuff.

We know you do.

We have the hit counts to prove it.

But ya'll are some no-comment leaving mofos if there ever were any. And we'd like to change that.

Because we don't want to think we're just out here, noticing random things on the Internet and talking to ourselves.

They have facilities for that, and frankly, we don't want to end up there.

So please, tell us what you'd like to see, what needs to go, to make your experience with us that much more Awesome and Fabulous. Oh, and keep in mind that we have day jobs with not-so-friendly on-the-job blogging policies. So be patient with us.

By the way, we're going to start giving away useless (or not so useless) free shit to the best commenter.

Forreals.

Just something to keep in mind.

So, Does This Mean Common's Performing at an Inaugural Ball?

2008-12-05T12:53:00.005-05:00

In an effort to glean whatever information we can about our new president, some of us, (cough, cough New York Magazine) have taken to scrutinizing the HNIC's choice of gym clothes, electronics, date spots, etc.

I mean, we know he's dorky and a little cheap, and he's trading the hybrid Escape for a motorcade and a limo with windows five inches thick. He used to decline chauffeur service while serving in the Senate, choosing to drive himself.

That's all well and good. (Although I don't care if he rides in one; you will never catch me turning over my hard-earned money for an American-made car.)

But now we've discovered that HNIC listens to a Zune.

This is not exactly the arugula of MP3 players, Mr. President. What gives?

Evidently the Zune was a stand-in, and an Obama spokeswoman told MSNBC that President Homeslice uses an Ipod like all normal people.

Via Daily Intel

Keith Sings to McDonald's; Big Macs Throw Their Lettuce on Stage

2008-12-05T12:02:00.004-05:00

There's something about singing of McDonald's that just isn't right.

We've already had to suffer through watching this guy whine during commercial breaks. Now... Keith Sweat is singing about Mickey D's too.

Come on, Keith. Don't do it dog, it's just not worth it.!

Alas, it's too late. Keith Sweat's new joint is an ode... to McNuggets.

No, I'm not even close to playing.

Keith's song is essentially a 25th-anniversary gift for the little fritters made of fowl. You can hear it on Keith's web site -- the web site page where you, too, can proclaim your love for the nuggets.

"From now thru December 19," the site says, "Keith Sweat invites listeners who share his passion to join the McNuggets Lovers Club and post their testimonials."

Da fuc? Testimonials? For... McNuggets?

*sigh*

I'm past through. There are so many things wrong with this and the whole "R&B-urban-hip-hop" McDonald's thing that I don't even know where to start.

Though I will say... I'm starting to believe that the Golden Arches are in on that massive government conspiracy to do away with black folk.

Does Barack know about this? Someone send him a memo.

Just So You Know, I Get the House

2008-12-03T20:56:00.008-05:00

Neither Veronica nor I are married, and only one of us wants to get to that vaunted state at some point in our lives.

Well, considering that 50 percent of American marriages end in divorce, it was only a matter of time before someone came up with this nifty device, so at least you can get your affairs in order and assets hidden before the (halfway) inevitable occurs.

It amazes me how simple this calculator is. There are only five questions, and none of them are, "Have you ever cheated on your spouse?"

Maybe someone should show this to those uber-annoying Eharmony commercial couples.

So pony up. What're the odds you'll get divorced?

And just in case you were wondering, I ran the data on Michelle and Barack.

I think Malia and Sasha are good.

People with similar backgrounds who are already divorced: 15%

People with similar backgrounds who will be divorced over the next five years: 3%

* In general for the five-year divorce prediction rates, those with less than 3 percent are at lower risk, 3 - 7 percent are of average risk and more than 7 percent are at higher risk.

Via Freakonomics.

Awesomely Fab: Campbell Brown

2008-12-03T16:44:00.002-05:00

I love this woman a little bit more every time I see her.

(Via Feministing.)

Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thang, Bab--- Shit.

2008-12-02T15:05:00.009-05:00

Barack is 'bout to be president, and the hustlers are out in full effect. And when I say hustlers, I'm speaking of those folks who collect dollar coins, dip them in the magic Barack potion and sell 'em on T.V. for the price of a KFC family meal.

From Politico:

Now, the real U.S. Mint has issued an advisory about the coins, warning consumers that the coins aren't official government tender, but merely plastic coating on real dollar coins.

Dang. So these cats are basically selling us chocolate coins. Only they're not chocolate, they're actual regular-ol' coins. The only thing chocolate is the guy in the picture.

Say the U.S. Mint:

These items are not official United States Mint products. Furthermore, these products, businesses, and advertisements are not approved, endorsed, sponsored, or authorized by the United States Mint, the Department of the Treasury, or the United States Government.... The United States Mint does not encourage, endorse, or sponsor products that alter the fundamental images depicted on its coins.

Sorry, folks. Susan B. stays.

Because Feminists Hate Breasts (Naturally)

2008-12-01T13:30:00.006-05:00

Via Feministing Community:

Now, it's been pretty well known for many years now that I am a feminist. Today, I met a girl who I have not seen in 4 years or so and who knew me when I made the two month size jump in 7th grade. At the time, she went from friend to instant enemy simply because I had an added few pounds to the front of my body. I had on a t-shirt that said "Women belong in the house... and the Senate." when we spoke. The major first thing I noticed was that she had had serious augmentation done to everything she had, from breasts to lips to ass implants (totally don't get those). She kept telling me how much work she had done, so I mentioned that I wanted to get a reduction. She quickly said "You just want one because you're feminist. You don't want to look like a girl."

Well clearly, with my 36 Umms (yes, I need to get measured, shut up Veronica!), which I love and cherish, I must be on the wrong team!

I had no idea being a feminist and owning boobs bigger than a B-cup were mutually exclusive.

This just uproots my entire life!

*proceeds to shave head ala Britney Spears, just to keep it from exploding*

He's Not Black / I'm Not Post-Racial

2008-12-01T12:25:00.007-05:00

Straight from the Outlook pages of the Washington Post comes an argument (actually two) that I've been wrestling with for quite some time.

The first: why do we call Barack Obama black when it so clearly excludes half of his heritage?

And second: this society is no more post-racial than I am the child of alien purple people eaters.

Earlier in the election season, I found myself arguing to an audience of black journalists that Obama is biracial, and that's what we should call him. As a product of a biracial marriage myself, I hated the idea that I had to choose sides.

But whether it was a box on a college application or my classmates forcing me to do it, I always had to pick a side.

In high school, I finally just threw my hands up and cast my lot with the other "tragic mulattoes" who were either too black or too white, and figured we could just make our own jacked-up group.

As I recall, all of us had closer relationships with our white counterparts, and to some degree felt shunned by our black ones.

Clearly Obama's white mother and grandmother were highly influential in his life, and his father was largely absent.

But before he was a well-known senator from Illinois, much less POTUS, he was still a black man just as likely to get pulled over for DWB. And hell, why don't we get to claim him? The man smokes menthols for christsake.

And that's what white people don't understand. Barack maybe biracial, but he, like me, is UCM: UnderCover Mixed. No one assumes he's anything but black unless he tells them otherwise.

When I step into the world, I'm just another black woman. The only people who have been able to discern that there's a variety of cultures running through my bloodstream without my saying a word are my hairdressers.

Strange, but true.

There is no distinction for UCMs. We face the same racist bullshit as other black people, and that puts us in the same boat. As a black woman, I face the same smorgasbord of racist/sexist/collossally-jack-upedness crap that some ignorant folks think is ok to level at Michelle Obama. And I'm sick of white people who think they're paying me a compliment when they tell me I'm "not like other black people."

But many black people simply want to claim Obama for them/ourselves, spouting the argument that white people didn't want to claim him until he actually looked like he could win the whole shebang.

Obama self-identifies as black. So is that what we should call him?

I'm not sure.

I mean, Ted Haggard self-identifies as straight, and well, I don't think we want to go down that road.

We Got a Black President... You Know Want We Want Now.

2008-11-29T14:42:00.015-05:00

Look what Barack dun started.

Diddy to the Daily Mirror:

"There is a black president and it's time for there to be a black Bond."

Oh yes, folks. Your boy Diddy has his eyes on the prize. He wants to be Bond -- James Bond. And he wants to be Bond so bad that he's dropped £500,000 -- damn near 800,000 dollars -- to film an audition tape in the South of France.

... I mean... it's Diddy. King of Conspicuous Spending. Are you really surprised?

You shouldn't be. Black folk got all kinds of audacity now, aiming to become big-screen superheroes. (Superheroes whose names we already know. So Hancock doesn't count.) Beyoncé already called dibs on Wonder Woman, although, some people think it's a bad idea. But hell -- did you see Bey perform on the Today Show? I'd pay just to see her in that costume, and I'm totally hetero.

Anyway, back to what I was saying -- Diddy. As Bond. The thought doesn't really terrify me. Shoot, just the other day, I was thinking it's about time for a female James Bond -- and she could be played by me. So let Diddy dream.

Besides, you should be more concerned that Akon wants the role.

That's just scary.

Self Loathing: Ur Doin It Rong

2008-11-29T13:32:00.010-05:00

You may remember Shane Mercado. How could you possibly forget him? The blogosphere won't let you.

Awhile back, I was scrolling through Towleroad when I found a discussion about Mercado, when I saw this from commenter Noah:

Damn, what is with the hate for someone because he's effeminate? Get over it. Your just gay bashing.

Newsflash: A LOT of gay men are effeminate! Right?

Imagine if some gay kid who is being bullied at school for being effeminate read your words. Nice way of making him feel accepted.

Up until the 1960s there were some organizations within the African-American community that only allowed those who were the color of or lighter than a brown paper bag acceptance. A little internal institutionalized racism/colorism that said some African-Americans were better than others.

And, here we have the gay version.

You know, black people do not like to have our dirty laundry tossed in the air and left to oxygenate and really create a stink.

And there it was in plain sight. And Noah was right.

I used to live with a Columbian gay man. He had been raised Catholic. He was oh, about 53 years old. And he still hadn't come out to his extended family.

He was one of the most unhappy people I have ever encountered.

We went to some big box store one afternoon, where he encountered someone who was either a trans man or a really butch lesbian.

When he walked out of the store, he was whispering in my ear, treating her, or possibly him, like a freak.

"Soraya, did you see that woman in the line behind me? I don't understand why women want to dress like men . . . she looks like a freak. That's why people don't like gay people. I'm gay but I'm normal."

I just stared at my housemate, unable to say anything. Who was I, some clueless straight girl, to be advocating for drag queens and lumberjacks and bears and trannies (pre-op and post-op) and flamers and tops and big nellie bottoms and leather daddies and the whole spectrum of the LGBT community that Housemate obviously had some problems with?

And yet, here I am.

He went to his first gay pride that summer in Long Beach and he'd returned to the Orange County condo we shared looking shell shocked. Evidently the dancing drag queens had not tickled his fancy but had induced his horror.

Meanwhile, I was the one trying to make plans to drive to San Francisco for the Folsom Street Fair. (Blame it on Dan Savage)

We may not have a paper bag test anymore, but the ugly demon of colorism is still alive and well, and it's transcended into other forms of self-loathing for different minority groups.

"Masculine" is no better than "effeminate" and "light" is no better than "dark."

So why is it so hard for us to grasp that?

Technology's a Bitch

2008-11-28T21:49:00.004-05:00

Dear person (you know who you are) who sent me that XXX-rated (oh yes, it was a triple X-er) Honesty Box message stop torturing me and reveal yourself!

Oh, and stop torturing Veronica, who is suffering due to my inability to shut up about this until I know who you are.

I hate technology.

Thank you, Mark Zuckerberg, for inventing the 21st century modern torture device that is Facebook.

She Done Fell Off Da Wagon

2008-11-26T21:08:00.004-05:00

Sooooooo, apparently LiLo was in DC, right around the corner from, well, a lot of places, at Lotus.

What the hell?

Ok, first, what is she doing here? I know she ain't doing lines off Marion Berry's boo-tay.

Well, I hope not anyway. I mean, who goes from SamRo to kicking it with a cracked out over the hill former mayor?

Naw, apparently Sam had a gig, and this heiffer got caught pouring some Grey Goose and Red Bull and drinking it.

At least she has good taste in liquor.

But, as Veronica pointed out, is anyone really surprised? I'm going with no. By the way, do a Google Image search for "fall off wagon."

Oh, Lindsay. Sigh.

And on another note, this wagon tumble happened five weeks ago. Art imitating life? Or the other way 'round?

Via D-Listed.

50 Shots Later...

2008-11-25T20:57:00.006-05:00

I can't let today pass without calling attention what happened in the early hours of this morning -- two years ago.

Hours before he was to be married, a man leaving his bachelor party at a strip club in Queens that was under police surveillance was shot and killed early yesterday in a hail of police bullets, witnesses and the police said.

(from The New York Times, Nov. 26, 2008)

While everyone is riding high from the election of this nation's first black president and swooning over his utopian multi-culti cabinet, let's not forget a family that's about to go through its third holiday season without its father, brother, husband, son.

Let's not forget, while a black man is about to be leader of the free world, millions more feel trapped by a society that sees them as threats; as predators; as savages to be controlled, and, in some cases -- like Sean's -- to be taken out.

Before I rejoiced over Barack, I wept over Sean. Because in Sean (and in Amadou Diallo), I saw my father, my brother, my cousins, and the men I have loved in my life. In Sean Bell, I saw man who was valued by his loved ones, but seen as nothing more than disposable by cops and many in the wider society.

Let's not let this election season keep us from acknowledging the societal hardships that black men still face. As my friend said to me the morning the Sean Bell story broke -- "Good to know I can still get popped for walking out on my front porch." It's a sarcastic quip, one meant to draw a chuckle or a cynical smirk, but his tone of jest was simply a sheer veil over the pain, angst, and uncertainty that comes with being a man of African descent in this country.

Yes, a black man can be president. But he can still be a statistic too.

What will you see him as?

Gilded Goodiness.

2008-11-25T16:50:00.007-05:00

I first fell victim this summer.

Tara and I were in New York, browsing the Bergdorf Goodman beauty department, when she started pulling me toward the Bobbi Brown counter, singing the praises of her ever-faithful shimmer brick.

"Just try it," she said as a makeup artist coaxed me into a chair. But I was trying my damnedest to resist. Because me trying makeup usually ends in me buying makeup, and feeling bad that I don't feel bad about dropping more than 20 bucks on a lip gloss.

But I was cornered. And five swipes of a makeup brush later (eyes, cheeks, and a little on the chin), the artist handed me a mirror so I could take in the freshly-applied apricot glow.

I was sold.

Now Bobbi is coming for me again, at full sparkly force, and just in time for the holidays. It's a brand-spanking new shimmer brick, called Copper Diamond -- a compact so pretty, so sparkly, so decadent, I want to reach through my computer screen and cuddle it to my face. (Yes, I'm that obsessed.) The only thing stopping me from heading over to Macy's after work is the fact that I have a boot I need to get off my car.

Damn you, DMV. Damn you.

But, boot or not, I'm getting little square of gilded giddiness as soon as I can. Because it's limited edition, and if I miss out, I might cry harder than the Christmas when I didn't get my pony.

Okay... I totally made that up.

But, as ~~The Enabler~~ Tara just pointed out... Black Friday is right around the corner.

You think the powers-that-be will give this to me as a post-Thanksgiving treat?

A Phone Call Would've Been Fine.

2008-11-25T12:57:00.005-05:00

This is NOT the e-card I want in my inbox:

"I got an STD; you might have it too. Please get checked out."

InSpot.org is an STD awareness site that's come up with a rather, well, forward-thinking idea for informing people that you may have contracted an infection: an e-card.

Now... I'm all for letting people know your status. In fact, I find it to be nothing short of necessary. But for some reason, I'm not sure if an e-card is the way to go. It just seems a little... oh, I dunno... impersonal.

And if that person happens to check their e-mail at work or in a campus computer lab... well then, it's just kinda wrong.

But maybe that's just me being Prudy Rudy. There's always a differing opinion. Via CNN.com:

It may not be the most personal way of delivering the news, but researchers say it beats not saying anything at all.

"When you weigh the importance of getting people notified, that's ultimately what needs to be done," said Jeffrey D. Klausner, director of STD Prevention and Control Services in San Francisco, California's Department of Public Health. "By notifying them -- even if it's done anonymously, even distantly, even with an e-card -- the benefits of getting someone diagnosed and treated outweigh the concerns of insensitivity."

Point taken. And I have to say, I do appreciate that the e-card links the recipient to up-to-date information on sexually transmitted infections, and, depending the city they're in, information on testing sites in their area.

Besides, what does my opinion matter? Clearly it's working. More than 50,000 of these things have been sent out since InSpot made them available in '04.

I'm just one of the people who'd rather find out over the phone. *shrug* Sue me.

Proof That Everything is Easier for A Man

2008-11-25T12:27:00.008-05:00

Wes over at Spiced Honey points out something I've been suspicious of for a long time....

When it comes to growing that glorious, luxurious crown of tresses, dudes have the game on lock.

Wes points out Lloyd, Snoop Dogg (obviously), Katt Williams, and faux-celeb Real, from VH1's "Real Chance of Love," who could be easily be mistaken for Pocahontas on testosterone.

(Seriously. I know he looks a damn fool, but what woman wouldn't kill for that hair? With that Pantene Pro-V, blowing-the-wind shit. I hate him. Thoroughly.)

Still, this patently unfair quirk of the universe was something I was fully aware of well before the arrival of the press 'n curl posterboys. I went to high school with plenty of boys who spent their weekends sitting between some girls' legs (not in that way), getting their middle-of-the-back-length tresses braided to perfection. And then, at 19, I met my Dominican crush -- whose curls were shinier, bouncier, more well-behaved than mine will ever be.

(I was so, so jealous. And smitten at the same time.)

So you know what? Screw it. No more trying to figure it out myself. The next time I want my hurr did, I'm finding the number for the person who does Snoop's roller set.

Until then ladies, answer me this... could you get with a guy with prettier hair than you?

He Got It!

2008-11-24T17:16:00.003-05:00

Florida State safety Myron Rolle earned a Rhodes Scholarship.

See, intellectuals come in all shapes and sizes.

Kudos for him.

It's Hard Out Here (For A First Lady)

2008-11-24T16:19:00.008-05:00

There are any number of reasons why I could never be a political wife.

Growing up, I never wanted to be first lady of anything. I would have scoffed at such a proposition. I wanted to be president. I wanted to be in charge, and even as a 14-year old, I had the chutzpah to think I was the sort of smart person who should be telling other people what to do.

So Cherie Blair’s advice to Michelle Obama struck a chord with me. Because while homegirl's Narciso Rodriguez dress communicated that she is no shrinking violet, Blair (wife of former British PM Tony) pretty much said “Elevation to vaunted First Lady status = back seat for you. Yes, Even you, Michelle.”

Sigh.

Before America got swept up in Obamamania, Michelle was an executive. With a life. Obama wrote in his book about the evil looks Michelle was flashing him when she had Malia and here he was, able to just walk his two legs out the door to work. And when he wanted to run for Senate, post-birth-of-Sasha, woooo boy. I like to think the Michelle Side Eye isn’t all that different from Soraya Side Eye, and I know just where it was coming from.

While I respect Obama’s decision to be Mom-In-Chief, it seems there wasn’t much else she could be. Not without being mercilessly hounded for it.

She’s our third first lady with a graduate degree.

How long before we have a first lady with a job? When does the first lady get to be herself, instead of just an extension of The Office of the POTUS? When do we get our Carla Sarkozy?

I have no idea. But I'm sure we're going to be talking about it for quite awhile.

I Can Haz Childcare?

2008-11-24T13:22:00.005-05:00

Boy, these conservatives are really something, aren't they? They're all in favor of the unborn. They'll do anything for the unborn. But once you're born, you're on your own.

-George Carlin

Not in France.

You know, there are myriad reasons why I have no desire to reproduce. I'm not really into the prospect of swollen ankles, an aching back, and all of the farting that comes with gestation. But I also know that where we are in this country is not conducive to my having a child, because, no matter how far we've come, the impetus to give up stuff for the sake of the child, namely a career and a life, is still placed squarely on the woman.

Honestly, we live in a country where more companies than not are still hostile to the idea of giving a new mother someplace to pump breast milk at work.

Not in France.

"If I had been obliged to choose between working and having children, I probably would have chosen children," Guiraud-Chaumeil said in an interview at city hall. "But I didn't have to choose."

The family-friendly measures -- including long maternity leaves, child-support payments, public schooling for toddlers and even nanny subsidies -- have become a heavy burden on the French budget as they have expanded over the years. They have grown increasingly expensive for businesses as well. But even in this time of financial crisis and economic slump, when deficits are growing and leaders are looking for cuts everywhere, no one in France, from the left or the right, has proposed reducing government expenditures to promote childbearing.

When the Socialist mayor of Lille, Martine Aubry, recently suggested that President Nicolas Sarkozy's government might consider a reduction in government spending on day-care centers for children younger than 3, conservative Education Minister Xavier Darcos responded, "That's an absurdity and a gross distortion of the truth."

You want me to reconsider popping out a baby?

Subsidize my child care and don't make me sacrifice my brain for my uterus and maybe I'll reconsider.

Your Breasts Will Thank You.

2008-11-23T18:47:00.005-05:00

I swear, I should get commission from Nordstrom.

I make this PSA roughly once a month, so here it go:

Go get fitted for a bra.

Somehow, even the almighty power of the O can't convince everyday women to get bra fittings.

And as a result, we all become victim to droopy boobs, overfull cups, or the ever-unflattering Chicken Cutlet Effect.

So I'm here to help her.

Get fitted for a bra.

I had my life-changing experience earlier this year. And what they say is correct: There's an 80-percent chance you're wearing the wrong size. Most likely, the band is too loose (find yourself trying to make tighter, don't you?) and the cups are too small. (Spillage much?) And if you're curvier like me, you're probably subjecting yourself to straps that dig into your shoulders and leave grooves in your skin.

Think about it... ain't it worth having support that'll let you roam free and -- dare I say it -- jump up and down without repercussions?

(Don't act like you don't subject new bras to the Jump Test.)

The best way to find what fits is to... well... get fitted. And a fitting won't just tell you what size you really wear; you'll also learn what to look for in a bra, how the band should fit (snug), how the cups should cover (no bagginess) and where that little panel between the cups should fall (flat against the rib cage).

So again, I say... go get fitted for a bra... just not at Vicky's. They'll sell you whatever is on the floor.

(I'm Veronica Miller and I approve this message.)

Still Looking for my Council of Veronicas....

2008-11-22T14:41:00.004-05:00

Slate has a super-cute piece about the power of The Michelle in Washington. And not just that Michelle (shoot, she ain't even here yet!), but a number of Michelles that can be counted among the Capitol's movers and shakers.

I've met three of the Michelles (shoot, I work in the same building as two of them), one of them comes from my alma mater, and a slew of them are fabulous women of color, so I gotta say... Slate definitely got it right. Michelles rock.

Of course, there are a couple of Michelles on the short list that I'm not necessarily fond of... but that's neither here nor there. I just wanna know one thing...

Where da Ronnies at?

Word to Ya Menorah

2008-11-21T21:31:00.003-05:00

I knew there was a reason I liked singing this song in grade school.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Plies = Penis.

2008-11-21T19:08:00.002-05:00

Best. Observation. Ever.

From Beautiful Brown Ones:

...I have decided that Plies consists of one huge penis. This is what he is made of: penis. He has no heart, no mind, no soul, no spirit, just pure, unadulterated penis.

He makes all his songs according to what his penis has to say.
He makes all his decisions based off what his penis told him.

... When you are listening to Plies, know that you are really listening to a penis.

And just in case you're wondering who Plies is... he's the genius behind the phrase "Bust It Baby."

Please Pass the Purell

2008-11-21T16:21:00.005-05:00

In the unlikely case that I ever meet Prince William, I am *not* shaking his hand.

Via Queerty (NSFW), because nothing is sacred anymore.

She Said, She Said: Beyonce = Feminist?

2008-11-21T14:44:00.011-05:00

Ok, so right away, before we get into this conversation, full disclosure: Veronica worships at the Church of Latter Day Beyonce. She buys all her albums and has the DVD of her concert performances. She does the dances.

I am a little more ambivalent. And while I like some of her music, I won't actually spend money on it. But somehow, it magically shows up on my I-pod. *wink*

I will admit, sometimes I think I sell Bey a little short.

But she makes it so easy when you see her interviews. Because everyone who interviews her has the same observation: she's had a lot of media training, and she won't reveal jack shit.

So it's a little difficult to gauge who the hell she really is, which has led some of us to believe that she's not too bright. (I used to say I'd like to have an intellectual affair with Jay-Z because really, what the hell do they talk about???)

Except once in a while, she'll drop a little gem like this one (because if anyone will get it out of you, it's the almighty Oprah):

"The most important thing is to make sure you have your own life before you're someone else's wife."

*wipes drool from chin*

See the entire interview (which is about as hard to find as Tupac's killer, because you know, Oprah has taken over the Internets too in her quest to rule the universe) here. Even when I replay it, I get a big grin, and I want to just reach out and hug her.

She really intrigues me, because Bey is the queen of the woman-empowerment anthems. See: "Independent Woman," "Survivor," "Irreplaceable," etc.

But sometimes I think she has, or at least promotes, a very narrow interpretation of what it means to be an empowered woman, and Salon breaks this down a whole lot better than I can by offering opinions on the messages in "Single Ladies" and "If I Were A Boy."

Sometimes I feel as though Beyonce has a man-bashy, neck popping, eye-rolling sort of idea of what feminism is, i.e. "Bills, Bills, Bills," "Irreplaceable."

But hey, clearly the woman's evolved. "Suga Mama" will always be one of my favorites.

And now we know where Jigga's Hamburger Helper reference in "Party Life" came from.

V?

Veronica says: You are now beginning to understand my devotion. Like every other woman who has walked this earth, Bey is simply complex -- only for some reason, the public seems to feel entitled to know about all her complexities. (I say, if she wants to keep it to herself, good. Oversharing is overrated.) And when it comes to her music, it resonates with me because it reflects the many things I want out of my own life -- I'm more than looking forward to being someone Mrs. Carter, but I'ma handle my business (and tell him about himself as needed), too.

Beyonce puzzles people because she refuses to stay still -- and that's the number one reason I love her.

Soraya Says: I get that. But I think the problem, particularly for music critics, is that when they're reviewing an album, they look for originality and growth. And part of calling yourself an artist is that you put yourself in your art. It makes it resonate. It makes it real, and kind of raw. That's why good art sticks with you. And I think Beyonce frustrates them, because even the "real" part of her reflected in "I Am" is still wrapped in cellophane, and well, not all that real.

Don't get me wrong, she puts out some good music. It just seems that her deepness ain't all that deep.

But hey. People say the same thing about Mariah Carey. And I love her anyway.

Milestones in Internetland

2008-11-21T13:54:00.008-05:00

I always feel a little offended when I hear experts talk about how my generation is the "Everybody Wins" generation. You know, every kid gets a trophy, a ribbon, a little certificate that says "You're a winner because you tried." I'm always like, "Hell NAH! I'm a winner because I'm the best! There's no faux congratulations for me!"

Until I saw this message from Gmail:

Congratulations on creating your brand new Gmail address,
awesomeandfabulous[at]gmail.com!

Wait a minute.

Gmail's giving me confetti and glitter because I signed up for an addy?

In fact, I didn't even sign up for an addy! Soraya did! She just tacked my e-mail on the sign-up form so I'd get a notification too.

And yet, I'm still congratulated. It makes me wonder why Google didn't send me balloons for creating this blog. (And if you know my history with blogs, you'd know I've earned a shitload of balloons.)

Alas, for all those quack psychiatrists who say that me and every other 20-something have become a generation wimps because we're coddled to and congratulated for even the most insipid of achievements...

... you're right.

*hangs head*

Which Huxtable Are You?

2008-11-21T13:08:00.002-05:00

So, awhile back, during episode six of the second season of Mad Men, Paul proposed an idea: that all women were either a Jackie or a Marilyn. I don't want to get into the whole virgin/whore dichotomy conversation.

Not right now, anyway.

But I thought about it when Veronica and I were watching The Cosby Show late one night at The Basement. Particularly with all the discussion of Michelle Obama basically being a 2008 version of Claire Huxtable.

Which Huxtable are you?

"I thought everyone wanted to be Claire," Veronica said.

I shook my head. I mean, Claire's cool and all, but Claire's got five kids. I think I'd maybe be Claire before Claire met Cliff.

So I thought a little more, and basically decided, after some contemplation, that I was Rudy. Initially, I thought I was an amalgam of Vanessa and Denise, but nah, I'm Rudy.

By the time Rudy grew up a bit from the cute little girl who started the show, she had quite the personality. I think she was quite the feminist badass. Because Rudy had no problem putting "Buuuuuuuud" in his place when he said some bogus mess about how women were only good for housework.

But you know, I think Cliff was pretty much exactly the sort of man Linda Hirshman proposed women should get with in Get To Work in order to you know, preserve having a life.

Except, I don't know any Cliffs. Seriously.

Do you?

Politcal Hitman Confesses, Repents; Witnesses Report Crossed Fingers

2008-11-21T10:31:00.000-05:00

It's good to know that some people have a conscience.

Kinda.

From The Daily Beast:

Roger Stone is one of the last guys on Earth one would expect to feel guilty over an episode of rough and tumble politicking. As a self-admitted hit man for the GOP, Stone has had a hand in everything from Nixon's dirty tricks to Eliot Spitzer's resignation to spreading discredited rumors of a Michelle Obama “whitey” tape during the 2008 Democratic primaries....

The capstone of Stone’s career, at least in terms of results, was the “Brooks Brothers riot” of the 2000 election recount. This was when a Stone-led squad of pro-Bush protestors stormed the Miami-Dade County election board, stopping the recount and advancing then-Governor George W. Bush one step closer to the White House. Though he is quick to rebut GOP operatives who seek to minimize his role in the recount, Stone lately has been having second thoughts about what happened in Florida.

Stone, in fact, shared those second thoughts over a slice of pizza:

"When I look at those double-page New York Times spreads of all the individual pictures of people who have been killed [in Iraq], I got to think, 'Maybe there wouldn't have been a war if I hadn't gone to Miami-Dade. Maybe there hadn't have been, in my view, an unjustified war if Bush hadn't become president.' It's very disturbing to me."

Aww. The hack with the heart of gold. I gotta say, no matter how hack-y you are, I'm a sucker for a good redemption story. Until...

Stone still offers his services as a no-holds-barred strategist to domestic and foreign politicians alike, and claims his client list is full.

Oh. Well... so much for that.

Sleep tight, Rog.

Are You Gonna Eat Me Too?

2008-11-20T16:53:00.001-05:00

Reason #756 why I'd rather opt out.

Kay S. Hymowitz on "Dating Darwism":

We are animals, the new Darwinians seem to say; get used to it. They define manhood as alpha-style toughness and unsentimental promiscuity. And in that spirit, they cultivate manipulation, calculation, and naked (in both the literal and metaphorical sense) self-interest. “Nature doesn’t care about hurting people’s feelings,” explains dating coach Mike Pilinski. “It cares ONLY about reproductive success.”

The argument is that men have been driven to this point because of women's liberation. Basically, now that women are more or less considered equals in society, the old school mores of dating and courtship have gone out the window. Women have different (and differing) expectations now, and instead of trying to navigate this shift in the dating scene, some guys are simply lashing back -- and actively becoming assholes about it.

It sounds extreme... but then it doesn't. Certainly if you have male friends. Read the article and you'll probably recognize more than a few examples.

Salon's take on it makes me feel a little better, pointing out just how insipid this whole approach is:

..."Dating Darwinism" suggests that all young men want is to successfully spread their seed -- but something tells me that if they have to defensively put on the tough guy act in the first place, that isn't at all the case.

My take: Instead of declaring war, just do you. Be honest with what you want and what you're willing to give to get it, and if someone likes it, good. If not... give 'em rocks to kick. (And that goes for guys AND girls.)

Then again, like my dad always says... common sense ain't all that common.

*shrug*

Where's the Randomness?!

2008-11-20T15:55:00.001-05:00

I have found none today.

What the hell gives?

Pfffft.

Making the Blog: "...And I Fry a Mean Chicken, Too."

2008-11-20T10:53:00.000-05:00

Soraya was updating our blog roll (over there --> to the right... make sure to check it out later), when she turned to ask me a question.

"I've got Feministing, Racialicious and Salon up here... what else do you read?"

"They're all listed on my blog," I said. Then I realized I needed to warn her. "Oh yeah... They're all hair, beauty and fashion blogs."

That's when I got it. The Soraya Side-Eye. Punctuated with: "...I mean stuff that's relevant."

Well, I never! "How is it not relevant?!" I demanded to know. "Being fly is part of being Awesome & Fabulous!, is it not?"

She cocked her head, half in agreement, half in knowing I wasn't going to budge on my position, and relented. (That's when we decided to include our own personal blog rolls.)

The one thing I've noticed as I've gone through these past years exploring the online feminist community is that we can talk about a lot of things... but we don't talk about being pretty. As if there's some kind of unspoken rule that talking about your love for lipglass or passion for party dresses makes you a less serious, more superficial person. And it's always a bit of a downer for me because, well... I like to look cute.

But who ever said you can't be groundbreaking and gorgeous at the same time? I have a personal admiration for women who do the damn thing AND look good while doing it (i.e. Fairy Fly Mommy Michelle and former Lehman Brothers CFO Erin Callan). And I see nothing wrong with taking pride in how you present yourself to the world, just as much as you take pride in the work you do for the world.

Neither does Robin Givhan. From her coverage of Glamour's Woman of the Year Awards:

...the subtext running through each award is the notion that style, glamour, fashion and all its variations can be part of a serious life. One would think that such a declaration would be unnecessary. But we remain a culture that is quick to declare any conversation about style as shallow, any acknowledgment of a woman's appearance as sexist and any attention to the semiotics of attire as undignified.

So although the Women of the Year awards are meant to be a celebration of accomplishment, not style, the fact that they are given out under the auspices of Glamour serves as a license for serious women to mention the unmentionable: Fashion can be fun, confidence-building, lucrative and symbolic.

So... see Soraya? Fashion and beauty are very much relevant. Ain't nothing wrong with a woman wanting to be awesome... AND look fabulous at the same time.

(Nah, nah nah, boo boo.)

Just Take a Deep Breath, and Step Away From the Diddy

2008-11-19T23:42:00.000-05:00

Dear Cassie,

It's time to grow a pair.

So, I'm not even sure why this is labeled as a blind item, because even no-seeing, dead-ass Ray Charles can tell that this is so obviously about you.

Look. We know you're young. But it's 2008, and it's time for you to stand up for yourself. Yes, to the almighty Diddy. Because while you might be sporting a necklace or a bracelet worth more than the last appraisal on my parent's house, you're missing something infinitely more priceless: your self respect.

We've already seen the items about how he wants an open relationship and you don't. About how you wanted to tell the world about the two of you and he was content to keep it on the DL.

Sweetheart, have you heard of Kim Porter, also known as disaffected perpetually ticked off Baby Mama Numero Uno? As much as you want to believe you're different from any of his other PYTs, you're not. Diddy might have you thinking you're special, but you're not that special. And this is coming from a woman who generally respects the Diddy and likes to speak well of him, seeing as how we share an alma mater.

But know this: right now, you're not much more than a doormat. And eventually, doormats get kicked to the curb.

Sez Vee: A lot of women who are praised for their looks and a lot of times, they think that's all they need to get by. You get people's attention with it. You might be able to catch a man, but you don't know how to stand on anything else besides how you look.

Gives a whole new meaning to... "It's In There."

2008-11-19T22:28:00.000-05:00

Come on dude. Ragu?

From dlisted:

It all started when the police approached 46-year-old Keith's car, because he was parked in a no-stopping zone.

They found him fucking a pasta jar....

But the worst part is that some poor little puppy was caught in the middle of all this. Alas, I can say no more. Read the rest here.

Just Wondering

2008-11-19T20:06:00.000-05:00

... what with the cold temperatures hitting the D.C. area right now (brrr) if I'm the only one more inclined to get a weave in the winter months?

You know, just to put something else between the 27 degree air and my poor little scalp?

I Wish I Could Do That.

2008-11-19T15:33:00.001-05:00

I owe some people some money too. Think this could work for me?

But wait! It gets better! Read the whole exchange here.

Oh... and the spider's now up for sale on eBay.

She Said, She Said: Michelle's Boo-tay

2008-11-18T16:13:00.001-05:00

Erin Aubry Kaplan is celebrating over at Salon today. Why? 'Cause our future first-lady... got a booty.

Kaplan's happy because a woman who not only looks like her, but also shares some of her physical characteristics, is about to become the new face of the White House. But some say Kaplan's article (full text here) may have been in bad taste.

Veronica says:

"I appreciate her appreciation. Look, unless you're Buffy the Body or the 'exotic' J.Lo., the mainstream can make you very self-conscious about the body God gave you. Michelle's like 'BAM! There it is.' And don't see anything wrong with another black woman celebrating that."

Soraya says:

"I don't see any problem with celebrating that, either. I think the danger is that, to some extent, the author is still objectifying her. And even though it's in a positive way, it can give the wrong people license to objectify her, and all the first ladies before her, in a way that's maybe not so nice. I get the author's argument -- I just think it was a bit clumsily constructed."

What do YOU say?

Hang It Up.

2008-11-18T16:06:00.001-05:00

Sometimes you wish people would just give it up. Throw in the red towel. Or drink a bottle of NyQuil and take a two-day nap.

In this case, I'm wishing all of the above on Alan Keyes, (the guy who'd be Token if the GOP were "South Park"), who's filing suit in California, and demanding that the state withhold its electoral votes from Prez-elect Barack Obama until he proves that he's a U.S. citizen.

Alan, come on. I know the Democrats have the innate ability to shoot themselves in the foot every now and again, but even they wouldn't have let this pass. Do you think the homie Barack would have gotten through that slime-riddled "physical challenge" of a party primary had he NOT proven he was a citizen?

I mean come on. Hillary went hard. So hard that your GOP couldn't go any harder.

Which is why... he WILL be your president.

Give it up.

About Awesome and Fab

2008-11-01T15:00:00.001-04:00

Hi. I'm Soraya.

And I'm Veronica.

And we're awesome and fabulous.

Yeah, Soraya's awesome and I'm fabulous.

Wait. I thought you were awesome and I was fabulous.

Whatever. Can't we both be awesome and fabulous?

Well, wouldn't that make us awesome and fabulous squared? In which case, shouldn't we change our blog address? Except I don't know how to make the little '2' like the squared sign, and even if I did, that doesn't mean anyone else will know, and then no one will visit us and leave us comments!

*sigh*... Whatever, Soraya.

Contact Us

2008-11-01T14:04:00.003-04:00

Have a post idea? Rant? Rave? Question?

Send it to Soraya or Veronica.

Or both of us.

And if you send spam, Veronica will stab you with her stiletto boot.

Soraya will just fart on you.