Seen On The Twitter

To All My Exes:

What's truly funny about this is that my exes don't ignore me, I ignore them. Still, if one of them gets too big for their britches, this will remind them LOL!!

*smooches...bringing just a bit of ratchet into your Monday*
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listen, that little meme made me laugh so hard, I can't even explain it!

Wherein I Share Tweets About Vaginas

*smooches...wondering why my vagina and I are enemies*
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maybe I should attend a workshop?

I Awake Each Day With The New Sunrise

So yesterday...yeah, man, I was going to post something but nothing seemed good enough. See, it was the anniversary of my grandmother's death and, well, you already know.

Then today I'm on The Twitter and scattered all over my timeline is the aftermath and remnants of an ugly mess (that had nothing to do with me) playing itself out in public. This happens at least once a month on #BlackTwitter but it doesn't make it easier to swallow each time. At first I let it suck me in because c'mon, I'm human. Shit like this is tasty and I tend to be greedy. But then it wasn't. Then it was giving my bubbleguts. Then it was leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Then it was reminding me to mind my own business and not frolic among the negative energy.

My grandmother didn't come to this country, watch other people's kids, take in other people's laundry and basically make herself sick taking care of us for me to sit at a desk watching someone's life being dragged through the internets.

Earlier this evening, after a feast of Buffalo wings and waffle fries (OH YEAH) I took K to get her very first tattoo. When we parted ways so she could go with her dad for the weekend and I could go home to be lazy, she ran to hug me and said "I feel like I should stay; I just got my first tattoo with you. It's like postpartum depression or something!" and let me kiss and squeeze her cheeks while using baby talk. In public.

This is what I should be concerning myself with: my family. Hugging them, kissing them and treating them whenever they deserve it and I can afford to.



Blessed is this life...never forget it.

*smooches...celebrating being alive*
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I don't think grandma would be happy about the body art, but she'd be happy about the togetherness.

Lost In Translation: The Don Lemon Disaster

So as I understand it, Black Twitter has ousted CNN personality Don Lemon from The Club because of some recent comments that have deemed him an Uncle Tom (a diss I don't fully understand because I never read the book. I've currently pulled it off the shelf at work. I might read it unless one of you can give me the Cliff's Notes.). At first I cared not even one little bit. Not even a smidgen. I used to have a crush on Lemon but as soon as he came out as gay I moved on. I don't believe in fighting that fight, y'all. I know how good penis can be; there's no way to turn a man who likes penis.

But everyone and their momma kept talking about it (even created a hastag on the Twitter--Don Lemon Logic--about it) which made me finally read an article about Lemon's comments to see what was so bad about it. In a nutshell, Lemon agreed with something that Bill O'Reilly said about "...high levels of crime in 'black precincts'" and the "'disintegration of the African-American family'" and also discussed "...the 'gansta culture' pushed by the entertainment industry." Specifically, Lemon listed five ways we, as black people, could do better in life:

• Respect our communities
• Finish school
• Pulling up sagging pants
• Eliminating the n-word
• Addressing the issue of absentee fathers [source: The Daily Caller]

Honestly, folks, this isn't a bad list. If I have to see another young man's underwear without my consent, I'm going to scream. If I have to see another couple get pregnant accidentally on purpose and not take responsibility for the life they create, I'm going to hurt someone. But these things aren't only in the black community, so maybe that's why y'all are mad at Lemon?

I mean, that list is a very good start to fixing a bunch of serious issues within many black communities. Where I think maybe Ol' Don lost y'all was in laying this out as THE plan to fix everything, without addressing certain facts of modern life that are designed to keep the same groups down in the muck so that those with power ALWAYS have power.

I don't know; I'm not seeing why his remarks lit y'all all the way up, is what I'm saying. Maybe y'all didn't understand what he meant or he didn't express it properly? There just seems to be a communication breakdown somewhere, because I can see where he's going with this and let me tell ya- it's not a bad place.

Feel free to tell me I'm wrong so I can ignore you in the comments.

*smooches...ready to beat his ass if it's warranted*
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y'all know I'm all Black Panther-y now. just say the word and that jive turkey's ass is grass!

I'm Strong When I Have To Be. We All Are.

The only good thing about staying up too late trying not to give in to a nasty bout of night-eating, is that once in a while you'll catch some good updates on The Twitter. There's something about the end of the day that makes us have these A-HA! moments, and for all the foolishness that happens online, sometimes twitter can provide some good food for thought, like the one listed below.

Because Shanelle's tweets were posted after 1AM, I don't know if many people were up to read them, so I'm posting them here (read from the bottom up; I'm too lazy to cut and paste everything in order for you!):

Everyone has had something to overcome in their lives; something that's made them put on their grown folk's drawz and put in work. To point a finger at someone who is taking care of their business, blaming them for others' insecurity, that's just counterproductive to the struggle. We're single because we're too strong and appear to not need a man? GET ALL THE WAY OUT OF HERE WITH THAT BULLSHIT. So if I were on public assistance, sitting at home desperately putting up sexy bathroom pics of me on Twitter and Facebook for attention, I'd be married by now? Honestly, I don't want a man who is attracted to that kind of woman, because clearly he's looking to take advantage of her somehow and possibly harm her and her children.

Yes, I pay all the bills at home, take care of my kids, have a good job, create great things as a side gig, am highly educated, opinionated and judgmental. My ideal guy will be all of that and then some, and appreciate those attributes in me. If that's not your scene, please, feel free to move the fuck on. You're blocking out the sun with all your hate.

*smooches...tired of ppl telling me why I'm single*
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the fact is, I'm single because I CHOOSE TO BE. deal with THAT!

You Do Your Thing And I'll Do Mine

Last week on the Twitter, I may have allegedly said some unflattering things about poetry. Namely that I don't like it and pretty much find it corny. This is not to discredit the work of poets around the world who entice, inspire and all that good shit- it's just not my cup of Malta Goya. I do enjoy an occasional verse, mostly in Spanish, and Shakespeare can do no wrong in my eyes, but otherwise I do not like poetry. I just don't get it.

For the record, I also don't like street-lit, weirdo performance art, country music, some modern sculpture (Oh. A big ol' wiry thing. How...nice...) and a slew of other so-called fine arts.

Here's the thing, though: I don't have to like your chosen field of artistic expression to support you as an artist. And voicing my dislike of poetry or urban lit or any of the aforementioned genres does not make me mean or a hater. It just means I have a different opinion on the subject than you do. There's no need to get butt-hurt if you're wrote "Make That Money" and the sequel "Make That Money 2: Hoes' Revenge" and I said it was garbage. That's my opinion! I'm sure you have a target audience that cannot wait for "Make That Money 3: The New Gs" to hit the barber shop. And I'm sure you're able to live a decent life with your book-money. So what the hell does it matter what I say about urban lit? Or poetry? Or your dumb, orange "sculpture"?

We can co-exist in a world where I think performance art is for crackheads and you think fiction stories and/or blogging is for people without a firm grip on reality. That's A-OK with me, booboo! I still believe any artistic endeavor serves a greater purpose, so I'll clap for you no matter what medium you choose. Even if you're the artist behind...whatever THIS is...

*smooches...setting the record straight*
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this doesn't need to turn into some sort of Right Coast/West Coast beef, son! and shout out to the homie Fikriyyah for those hood novel titles. that mess had me giggling for days!

Lineage

Yesterday, Twitter featured a "Dominican Problems" trending topic that was supposed to feature some funny/true issues unique to Dominican people. There were silly ones, ignorant ones and some that served as social commentary, and it was the latter that made me write this post.

When there are funny TTs on Twitter and they're harmless enough, I share them with K because we have a similar sense of humor. When I told her about "Dominican Problems" (which was probably fashioned after the "Meatball Problems" list from the reality TV show "Jersey Shore") she quickly retorted, "Oh, you mean like: I don't have enough money to support my three families?"

And of course I burst out laughing (because it's true) but then it made me sad that this is Ks impression of her people (because, well, it's true!).

Earlier this year we found out about my mother's grandfather, who had 40+ kids with three different women in La Descubierta. Let me explain this so you'll understand: La Descubierta is a small-ass town. It's the equivalent of a three-block radius in Rhode Island. SMALL. The cojones on this man...

Tie this in with the fact that my paternal grandmother had kids with three different men (and the Penzo dude that gave us our name was married to someone else when he fathered my father, aunts and uncles. Meaning my grandmother was his mistress. FOR SHAME!) and Mami & Titi Gloris have different dads (as do Mari & I) and well, K doesn't think too highly of Dominicans from the island (her words, not mine).

All she sees right now is infidelities and secret families and philandering husbands and single mothers, and I wish I could show her a different reality but those are few and far between (in ANY culture, unfortunately). I want her to be proud of her heritage, and I think on some small level she is, but she has no faith in the Dominican family structure.

It was never my intention to raise a Jaded child, but with ancestors like ours... ::sigh::

*smooches...not loving DRs reputation right now*
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it's all a big joke until your child points out your people's ain't-shit-ness

A Real Quick Sorry...

...for all the times I stayed stuck on my Blackberry, ignoring you and what you had to say.

Now that I've gotten rid of my smartphone I see how obnoxious and rude it is to keep heads bowed and thumbs in position. Where have our manners gone? What has happened to our attention spans?

I truly apologize to you, you and you for every time I checked my Twitter timeline or emails while you were in mid-sentence about something that was important to you. All of that could have waited until I got home. And it was unnecessary for my phone to be on the table, between us, at dinner. I would have felt it vibrate from my pocket. I didn't need it within sight like an electronic security blanket.

And I really want to say sorry to myself, for allowing a machine to keep me from enjoying the moment, soaking in real, touchable, tangible life, and depending on faceless transmissions from a tiny screen to validate my existence.

This is not who I set out to be. I want to be the person who digs her bare feet into the dirt and becomes one with the world, and then sits there in the same dirt and writes about it. I want to be front row center at a show and let the music pour over me uninterrupted. I want to sit in my seat with my popcorn and blue raspberry slushee and see a whole movie- previews to closing credits- without having to bring all the world with me.

I want to sit across from my friends, look them in the face and honestly say "Yes. I'm listening to you and I care about what you're saying because I love you," without having a phone between us.

And I can only hope you'd do the same for me.

*smooches...really paying attention now*
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and now that I'm here in the moment, anything you care to say?

Arguments In My Head

I'm not a very violent or confrontational person (no really!), but on occasion I've been known to go off. Like the incident in the ladies' room at work with the paper towel dispenser:


And that time I cursed at the computer because TravelZoo offered me a deal for a "glacier walk" in Iceland and I responded with, "Your MOMMA is going on a glacier walk!" before rolling my eyes and closing the browser.

But the kicker was the argument I had with my neighbor's car.

See, my neighbor was one of those Family Radio people who swore The Rapture was coming last Saturday, and it was nearly six months ago when I first noticed all the bumper stickers on their minivan advertising the end of the world. One sticker in particular set me off, partly because the entire doomsday message was fucking with my head and reminded me of my own mortality, and partly because of the arrogance of it all. It read: Noah knew, why can't we?

To that I burst out with a viciously attitudinal: BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!

Because I mean really- who the fuck did they think they were?

*smooches...ready to start meditating again*
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no one likes an AngryJaded. well, except maybe you guys... I know how much you live for my rants...

I'm A Icon Bitch I Thought You Knew...And Other Musings...

Hello my lovelies! How have you been? Me, a little better. Better enough to let go of my blogging hiatus and come back to my online family. Ready? Let's GO!

Holy Health Care Reform, Batman!
I'm sure you've all been paying attention to this Health Care Reform thing, right? It was all anyone on my Twitter timeline could talk about, and while I'm guessing from all the brou-haha that this is a good thing, I won't be able to really choose a side until I read the legislation in full.

But let's say for the sake of argument this IS a good thing and it WILL be a good thing for this country... does this mean I'll be able to get me some medical marijuana and Uncle Sam will pay for it? What? Oh, like you weren't wondering the same damn thing...

I'm A Icon Bitch I Thought You Knew
This is usually where I play some Ludacris to welcome you back to my blog, but this time I decided to pick a different artist... Trina. I don't know why this song brings me joy, I really don't know, but when it comes on my iPod I've been known to act a fool.



Spring Hair, Bitchez!!
Big shout out to my baby sis who hooked me up with the killer mother-fucking haircut.



Yeah, you're seeing correctly: I GOT MY BANGS BACK! And aren't they divine? I'm already hearing them speak to me, and they are RAUNCH-EE! I feel so sorry for the men in my life. Well, correction, the GOOD-LOOKING men in my life, because my bangs are big ol sluts and are already plotting to molest the whole lot of them.

Yes, The Ex Is Gonna Be On The Show
You asked, I delivered; K & N's father agreed to co-host Monday Musings this week. What are we discussing? Oh right like you care, like you're not going to tune in for the Coney Island freak show that you're hoping it will turn into.



But all jokes aside, we're actually going to be discussing a very serious topic: co-parenting after divorce, and I felt this was necessary after realizing that many of my blogland peoples are in not-so-great situations with their exes with babies stuck right in the middle. And that makes me sad. C and I have managed to not damage the babies too much; maybe we can help you, too.

Me And Writing Are Still Frenemies
My fifth reading (number three with La Pluma y La Tinta) was on Saturday and this time around, I have to admit- there were no butterflies. I did not throw up. My voice barely trembled as I shared one of my babies with those gathered. I think I've finally gotten the knack of this "writer" lifestyle.

Oh yeah, we're writers!

Except I keep having anxiety attacks about the well running dry. I want to make new babies but my muse is still on vacation. This not only means no new pieces but it also means the babies that already exist aren't getting the nurture the need to be really great.

Folks, I may have to start smoking weed again...where's my print-out of that darned Health Care Reform bill?

*smooches...only half-joking about the drugs*
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just so we're clear: things are still mega-shitty over here but my outlook on things have improved. shout out and much love to the beautiful people in my life who've helped me de-funk my mood during this little break.

Promises...And Other Musings

Good weekend? Yeah? Me kinda, too.

New Favorite Product
Two weekends ago Eb the Celeb DRAGGED me to a speed dating event. Yes, DRAGGED. Y'all know me- that's not how I roll. But she's my girl and was supporting her friend Kel Spencer so I couldn't say no to that. We're all in the struggle and I'm down for helping. After the event (no...I didn't meet anyone with whom I cared to keep in touch) we got goody bags that included samples of shampoo & conditioner, a brand I had never heard of called Perfect Results.

On Thursday I washed Ks hair with it and OH. MY. GOD. It made her hair so soft and shiny. Even SHE noticed the difference. I didn't get a chance to press it so I don't know what it looks like when completely straight, but blown out it was amazing. Now, we've only used the shampoo & conditioner so I can't speak on any of the other products, but next time I'm at Ricky's I will be looking for this line of hair care, for sure!

Get Ready To Take Notes Tonight
It's been a hot minute since we've had a Parenting 101 segment on Monday Musings so what better time than the present.



On tonight's show we will focus on siblings, your child's/children's education and of course, discipline. Bring your notebooks and your questions; this WILL be on the final.

Promises
Once when I visited Mari in DC, we went to see the Jim Henson exhibit at the museum and I picked up the cutest little book, It's Not Easy Being Green.



I only sort of read through it until this weekend and I came across a quote that spoke to me:

"I guess I was wrong when I said I never promised anyone. I promised me." -Kermit

Friday I explained to you about my issues with follow-thru and this speaks to that. I usually only finish something if someone else is counting on me, but when it's for me I slack off. My thesis, my novel, getting my money in order, organizing my apartment, getting in shape, being open to new dating experiences, abstaining from certain vices- all promises I made to myself that were laid to the wayside just because. Sad but true. This is something I've decided to work on during 2010 for sure.

I've really got to learn to put myself first sometimes. It's so hard for me but if I can enforce my "NO" policy a little bit more when asked to do something for others I think it can happen.

Someone Take My Gmail Away
While watching last week's episode of The New Adventures of Old Christine, in which she asked her ex-husband for his sperm in order to have another baby, I got the BRIGHT idea to ask C the same thing.

1- I'd like to give a huge side eye to all my Twitter friends who did NOT stop me from sending such a crazy email and

2- I especially want to give The F$%k-It List the side eye for claiming that C is still in love with me. HE'S SO NOT!

That said...he agreed to it. And yes, I died a hundred deaths when I received his reply.

Let's clarify. What I asked was:
What if on the brink of menopause I wanted another baby...would you donate your sperm? That way all the kids have the same parents. Yes? No?

And he replied:
I guess I would. I mean I still care about you and would want to help out if that was something you wanted. I'm sure it would lessen the anxiety the girls would have.

So I don't think he's in love with me...he's just a good friend. Right? RIGHT?

LORD if his fiance didn't hate me before...

*smooches...wondering how much it costs to freeze my eggs*
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let's face it, folks, it's not such a crazy idea. think about it- my kids would all have the same dad and I won't have to worry about what the kid will look like and I already know he's a good dad. wait- did I just talk myself into it??? *dead*

Philanthropically Speaking

It seems like every year or two there is a devastating natural disaster that calls on those who have to open their hearts and, if they can and want, give to those who have not.

And I don't say that to trivialize any of the recent events that have taken hundreds of thousands of lives and created who knows how many orphans and homeless families. I just want you to re-read that first sentence again, especially the part that says "if they can and want."

Why do I call that part out? Because I've noticed a particularly distasteful trend on Twitter, FB and blogland of guilting or shaming people into donating money to various charities aiding the Haitian people.

I am absolutely of the belief that once I "make it" I should give back and pull up my brothers and sisters still in the struggle. Sometimes you'll hear me say that when my media empire blows up I'm bringing you with me, and I mean that. And I also have a list of charities near and dear to my heart that will receive annual donations, grants and/or endowments from me and the media empire, above and beyond whatever it is I do, or don't do for them now.

You won't see me list them or call them out, though, because I am also of the belief that philanthropy is a personal, private matter. Whom I give to and how much I give is none of anybody's business, except maybe Uncle Sam (that nosy, greedy motherfucker!) and my Mami (who will be in charge of my loot) and my lawyers/estate planners/beneficiaries.

The rest of you can STEP w/the guilt trips and obnoxious GIVE NOW tweets and status messages. If you gave, that's awesome. Beautiful. Haiti needs more people like you right now and from now on. Does that mean you can rub it in others' faces, like those somma-time Catholics that LIVE for Ash Wednesday so that they can flaunt their "faith" to the outside world? Please. I hope not.

Last week while on the phone with Nina I said I wouldn't write about this tragedy in Ayiti because it's a personal matter, and I didn't feel that I had to share anything about it with you. Especially what, if anything, I've done to help my people across that 193 mile border. You don't know me like that. Yeah, you read this blog and I pour about 85% of my real life onto this site for your reading pleasure, but please don't ever mistake it for KNOWING. ME. LIKE. THAT. I would never presume the same about you.

But the reason for this rant (because you know I always have a reason) is that yesterday someone made a snide comment asking why was Oprah Winfrey concerned w/what Wyclef Jean was donating to Haiti when she has enough money and should be giving, too. It struck a nerve because what AUDACITY to tell someone what to do with their own hard-earned money. How do we know what Ms. Winfrey has or hasn't done for Haitian relief efforts, and why does she have to, AND why is it our business, just because she isn't screaming it from the mountaintops? Fall back, SON!

YES what happened, and its aftermath, is HORRIBLE, and this country, these people, those BABIES, need help from wherever it may come. But getting all high and mighty, holier-than-thou with other people's wallets? Who the fuck are you?

Listen, give, don't give. Help, don't help. Just do what your conscious is comfortable with, not what a somma-timer says you should do. Chances are in a month, many of these same people will forget that Haiti even exists. Just like they forgot about Louisiana, and just like they forgot about those areas near the Indian Ocean.

*hops off soapbox and throws it at Twitter*

And another thing: don't EVER, IN YOUR LIFE, tell me what to do. EVER.

*smooches...especially after the tongue lashing I just gave you*
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only a small part of this was directed at one person so don't try to start no online beef...it's something that has been bothering me since the 13th and I've tried to hold it in but yesterday, man, a spark was lit and I couldn't find my fire extinguisher...

And I Wonder Where I Get It From...

First-

HAPPY NEW YEAR, BITCHEZZZ!!!

I hope you all spent it with good people having a good time in a good (spiritual) place, and made it back home in one piece.

My initial New Year's Eve plans for the evening were very lofty: Netflix. Take out. Couch. There was also the possibility of a few parties throughout Brooklyn. But then Mami decided that no, we were going to my Tia Nancy's house to ring in the New Year and while I was iffy about it at first I'm sooooooo glad I went.

Tia Nancy is William R. Penzo's sister; she's older & has a different father which explains why she's the only one on that side of my family that I love- she's technically NOT a Penzo. So because she's not infected, err, does not have Penzo blood running through her veins her kids, by default, are also pretty cool. See, look at them:



Don't they look cool?? (Ignore the liquor bottles; they grew up in BedStuy then Brownsville- whattaya want?!) And PS- The boy cousin in the pic just had the CUTEST baby girl in October. I met her tonight. OH MY GOD I want to steal her so bad!

Anyway, so we get there and it's not the packed to the gills house party I remember Tia Nancy having back when I was a kid. It was just us, my grandmother, my cousins and their kids and my Uncle Dino. And I can't even get into Dino right now. He needs his OWN blog post. Let's just say that stories were circulating about him wearing rollers in his hair & tight shirts & roller skates in the streets of NYC. I won't elaborate past that.

Then Dino left with my grandmother because apparently William R. Penzo was hosting his OWN party out in Bushwick, so *WHEW* I was not going to have to see that man at all. All my fears of confrontations and awkwardness just disappeared. So then it was just us. And that's when the fun REALLY began.

When I say fun, I mean the STORIES: that my Penzo grandmother was "loose" when she was younger (8 kids by 3 different men, the last one being MARRIED...don't sleep on my grandma, y'all!) and my uncle's cheating ways; about my very gay cousin and his very in-denial mother; about the mental illness that's running rampantly unnoticed and undiagnosed in certain cousins; and my brother, who is shaking up with some cougar.

I tell you, I could not have written better shit than what I was privy to tonight- it was all comedy GOLD! Honestly, if I wanted to tell all these people's business and elaborate on everything that was said tonight, I'd have enough blog posts to last me through the end of March. Seriously. But I won't take it there...I think this snippet was enough.

The star of the show was definitely my cousin's husband, Moe. Yo, dude had me and my sister in TEARS the whole night! He's is crazy funny; I wish y'all could have experienced his nuttiness live and in person. Here's a glimpse of it:



Suffice it to say I gave my non-Penzo cousins my phone number. And who knows? I may even share this blog with them one day. Alls I know is I have to find something else to call them, because of everyone in that house tonight, I was the only real Penzo in attendance.

I'm still trying to decipher if that's a good or bad thing.

*smooches...ringing in the new year just right*
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only thing missing was my babies; they would have had a great time at Nancy's tonight :(

"It's All Fun And Games Until You Choke On It"

I have so many Voices spewing out so many words in my head at the same time it really is a wonder I can function at all. And these Voices are so exhausting, with their yelling and nagging and "Kill the Pope" chants day in and day out. Sometimes it's all just too much. And I explode.



Days like that (this) is when I'm grateful for the internet (or maybe the internet is the source of my insanity? Hmmm...that may have to be a post for another day). Thanks to the World Wide Web I can unleash a few of the thoughts in my head on Twitter or stalk celebrities on Facebook. I can go on any number of bootleg websites and catch old episodes of The New Adventures of Old Christine or some interracial gangbang porn (What? Like I'm the only one? Get the fuck off your high horse and stop clutching your pearls... no one's buying it. And NO I didn't link it you whiny baby head so relax!).

And then there's my trusty old Netflix subscription that opens up a whole other world of entertaining procrastination and my absolute favorite, YouTube. Home of hilarity, intoxication, COONtastic good times, and keeper of my childhood memories.

Then, after I soak it all in, after I've watched all I can watch and heard all I can hear, some of The Voices calm down and speak only one at a time, allowing me the opportunity to regurgitate these words for you now instead of suffocating on them.

I'm just glad you're patient enough to wait for us to get it together. Until then...



*smooches...finding words even when I'm blocked*
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I might have to rethink my position on clones so that I can have Raquels #2-6 doing all the shit I don't want to do everyday, and Raquel #1 can just lay on the couch eating Ramen & Haagen Dazs

Football For Dummies...And Other Musings

Just stuff going on in my crazy mind...

Men In Uniform
Apparently, I get my penchant for servicemen from my mom. She was like a school girl asking for our picture to be taken with these dudes after Mari's Army 10-mile race back in October!



And clearly, even Colonial Uniforms are a turn on, too.

This Cake Never Stood A Chance...
...against two PMSing females and a 9-year-old with a bottomless pit for a stomach. Exhibit A:



was baked on Saturday night. The photo above is what it looked like on SUNDAY AFTERNOON. Help Us!

Football For Dummies
You all know that I am an avid beisbol fanatic that dabbles in football in the winter. But I have to say, I don't really understand the ins and out of the latter. I could easily step in for any umpire during a Mets game, but ask me to make a call during a football game and you'll hear crickets. So I figured it's time I get schooled on this game, since I find myself yelling at the computer monitor during game days.



So tonight on Monday Musings, blogger and compadre 12kyle of The 12th Planet will co-host seeing as he eats & breathes football like his life depends on it. (Quietly, I think it does!) If you don't want to be left out, make sure and tune in!!

Get A Haircut, Hippie!
I posted this pic on Twitter to both A) show off my locks and B) solicit sponsorship for a much needed visit to the hair salon for a haircut.



My ends are looking cat-raggedy... it refuses to hold a curl and gets all frizzy at the slightest hint of humidity... won't anyone sponsor a Jaded NYer today?!

Is There A Doctor In The House?
I know these Halloween pictures are mad tardy for the party, but better late than never, heifers!

The Happy Hour Ladies

Dr. Penzo and Eb the Gladiator

"Gimme that night fever, night feverrrrrrrr... we know how to do it..."

*smooches...staying too busy to realize I'm unemployed*
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What's going on in your world, suckazzzzz?!

Truths About Me

As if I don't already bare the contents of my soul for you every week, I decided on this post after seeing it as a trending topic by a twitter friend (@BKPhever). I wasn't in the mood to participate at the time, but when I woke up the next day it popped back into my head.

And you know I have no choice sometimes but to oblige The Voices. Those bitches know how to get their way one way or another...

So here it is- a few truths about me to file away in your mental Rolodex and use during your testimony in my competency hearing:

1- I talk to myself. A lot. And not just little conversations with myself on things I need to get done like normal people, but actually speaking to invisible people, having full on conversations, cracking jokes and the whole nine. I've done this since I was a little girl; Minnie can vouch for me.

2- TMI ALERT: After jungle-tastic activities, I'm usually the one who falls asleep. I know that distinction usually goes to the fellas, but this Jaded heifer right here? She's out for the count afterward. So... if you want me to shut the hell up so you can watch the game or play Madden Football? You know what to do...

3- I have a knack for the Romance languages, even now as an adult. I started out speaking Spanish, then studied Italian in school. When we lived in Elizabeth, NJ I started to pick up Portuguese, and in a pinch I can decipher French even though I've never studied it. It's loads of fun to experience the way my brain has to work in order to translate words.

4- Besides the millions of reasons there are to give The Vatican the side eye, I decided to leave the church because of two things: their treatment of me & K after I had her and their stance on homosexuality. I could not see myself belonging to a group that looked down on me for choosing to be an unwed mother NOR could I support an organization that made homosexuals feel like lower-class citizens.

5- I always talk about looking for a sexy, dreadlock rasta who stands at 6'4" and has the smoothest dark skin and swoon-worthy accent but honestly- I really look for someone who's company I enjoy. Someone who makes me laugh, who has a brain, who commands respect and has a kind spirit. Sometimes that means the guy is my height and light-skinned. Sometimes that means he's Indian. And who knows, one day it might mean he'll be *GASP* white. I mean of course physical attraction is always what will grab my attention first, but looks only keep mattering in fantasies; I need a more complete package in real life for the long run.

What are some truths about you?

*smooches...wondering why I tell you so much about me*
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just promise me one thing- if I'm ever institutionalized, you'll come visit me at least once a month...

A Show, A Movie "Tweetup" And A Date With A Recipe

Welcome to another week at the Jaded Insane Asylum. Don't come complaining about how I've ruined your brain and all that mess... you came here voluntarily. That said, here's what you need to know for this week:

The "Immature Media" Tried To Eat Your Babies
Here's the deal- we all know the phrase "sex sells" and we see that phrase in practice selling everything from eyeshadow to Doritos. You and I can laugh it off or ignore it, but what happens when your kids see the same advertisement? Or how about if they happen to catch Fox News and their hate campaign against the current administration? OR what if they're watching ANY news channel and have to see bloody image after bloody image of the violence happening around the world? How do you keep this negativity from ruining your perfect child?



Tune in to Monday Musings tonight as Brother Omi and I try to walk you through it. Make sure you tell all parents to listen and participate tonight. Or not. The world needs ditch-diggers, too, I suppose...

This Friday... The World ENDS!!!
-cue ominous music-
YES, it's true. This Friday the film 2012 premieres in theaters nationwide. Since my boo-honey-lover John Cusack is STARRING IN IT I shall be there front and center, and I'm taking some people with me. I've already recruited three folks (one of which is Nina. Yes NINA, the crazy chick who happens to be related to me) but we'd love to see a theater full of our blogger & twitter friends. Email me for the details!

Soon, I Will Rule The WORLD Kitchen!
If you follow me on Twitter (@thejadednyer) Wednesday will be fun, as I am live tweeting Titi Gloris teaching me and the babies how to make SANCOCHO! Finally, after all these years of waiting for others to make this delicious soup for me, I'm going to learn to make it myself. Exciting, right? I live for these moments- the handing down of the family recipes/traditions- and it's even more exciting that I get to share it with the babies. And yes, they're as excited about it as I am!

I only need to learn a few more dishes and them POW- Queen of the Universe! Watch!

*smooches...happy to have things to look forward to*
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it's weeks like this that keep the straight edge away from my wrist! what's your week looking like??

Because You're Not On Twitter...

You missed the INSANE exchange I had with Irene and The F$%k-It List.

1- Irene changed her profile picture to this:



(Foofa, a character from the kids' show Yo Gaba Gaba)

2- So then I changed MY profile picture to this:



(El Generalissimo LIVES!)

3- THEN The F$%k-It list called me crazy for my pic, and I responded with:



4- And then SHE, god love her, responded with:



*DEAD*

And that's what you missed on Twitter today.

If you want to join in on the shenanigans, follow us on Twitter:

Me: www.twitter.com/thejadednyer
Irene: www.twitter.com/fithungrygurl
The F$%k-It List: www.twitter.com/f_uitlist

*smooches...showing you WHY I don't get much done during the day*
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but I'm working on cutting back... (not really, tho)

Back In The (Twitter) Saddle Again

Yeah, yeah, yeah... I went back to Twitter. What of it?

In my defense: FACEBOOK IS SOOOOOO FREAKIN' BORING I WANTED TO DRINK LYSOL EVERYTIME I LOGGED ON!!!!!!!

Seriously! I have way more fun on Twitter than I do on FB. Sad, I know. I should be having way more fun outside or in my bedroom (CHEA... riiiiiiight!) than I am online but fuck it- it is what it is (UGH! I swore I'd never use that phrase...). Plus that Mafia Wars bullshit... Look, I SUCK at all and every video-type game I've ever attempted in my life. I don't know WHY I thought Mafia Wars would be any different. So yeah I had to stop playing.

I'm being smarter about it, though, because I DID NOT add it to my phone and I WILL NOT add it to my phone. So basically if I'm not at a computer you will not "see" me on Twitter. It has helped my addiction recovery tremendously. My productivity still sucks ass, but that's a post for another day.

My return was not uneventful, though, and because of it I am thoroughly and unequivocally convinced that Twitter is manned by ROBOTS. Evil, human-hating, plotting, Al-Qaeda ROBOTS! You heard it here first!

Case in point:

When you cancel a Twitter account, the ROBOTS inform you that should you choose to return there is the possibility of reactivating your deleted account. Sounds cool, right? WRONG!

If, like me, you reactivate your account, ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. First, it asks you to change your username & email attached to the account, so I did it, but I really wanted to keep mine so then I changed it back.

Then after a couple of days I noticed all my followers & the people I was following disappeared. I figured AWESOME! I GET TO START FROM SCRATCH!

WRONG AGAIN, Col. Sanders... As I went about the business of re-adding my peeps a strange thing happened... I got locked in at following 26 people and only 15 followers. Meaning I was not allowed to follow more than 26 people and no matter how many times I approved new followers no more than 15 were being let through. WTF, TWITTER?

Like any normal human being I went to the HELP section to try and find answers, sent in a help request and waited patiently. I DID THIS FOUR TIMES AND GOT THE SAME AUTOMATED RESPONSE EACH TIME WHICH DID NOT HELP ME AT ALL.

Finally, out of ideas and with nowhere to turn, I had to say goodbye to my Twitter account- and all 13,000 updates- for good and open a new one. A completely new one. Blank slate n shit. All past genius just dust in the wind.

And for what? Because a bunch of DAMN ROBOTS wanted to teach me a lesson about impulsivity and temper tantrums and thinking my decisions through thoroughly before executing them? Well FUCK YOU, TWITTER ROBOTS! I'm onto you and your evil plans of world domination... don't think I'm NOT!

*deep cleansing breaths*

In the meantime, if you USED TO follow me please be aware that you do not anymore. I have a new account. It's the same name (www.twitter.com/TheJadedNYer) but a new account nonetheless. It's not that I'm being "quiet" it's that you're not following me. Feel free to re-add me and if I like you I will approve your request.

If I don't... hey, wait a minute... how'd you even get access to this blog? SECURITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*smooches...trying to have patience w/social networking sites*
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seriously, tho- how BORING is facebook, huh?? HUH??

I Wonder If The Penzos Know How Much I Clown Them?

taken from a Twitter conversation that came about after I went off on a rant about K's school:


and1grad: @TheJadedNYer I would really like to see you get ethnic. Its always entertaining when spanish folk get angry.

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad CALLATE!!!!!!

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer No, usually yall rattle off a LOT of words VERY quickly. Its fun to watch!

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad I'm not sure, but I think you just called me Ricky Ricardo...

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer No I called @ReindadeNYC that once tho. Did you know she's Cuban?

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad You're gonna get it for that. I'm just gonna duck out of the way and watch... *gets popcorn*

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer She likes it when I call her Cuban...its like our role-play. LOL

TheJadedNYer: @and1grad OK, now I feel like I walked into a porn starring my cousins. *backs away slowly*

and1grad: @TheJadedNYer Your saying that has just made this whole day awkward. That might actually be the most jaded thing I've heard u say. lol

chicknamedvick: @and1grad @TheJadedNYer that specific porn ends with @ReinaNYC trying to cut him.

TheJadedNYer: @chicknamedvick Ahhh, so it's a SNUFF FILM starring my cousins. Makes more sense now. *runs away for dear life*

*smooches...knowing full well that one day they might read this*
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you know, eventually, when they actually learn to read... hahahahahahaha