Archive for March, 2008

Blog of the Day

So somewhere in all this mess of my strangely changing life, I seem to be the Blog of the Day over at Fuel. Check it out in this screen cap. It’s in the top left. This was kind of nice, seeing how I’ve been so distracted over here lately. I promise to get up to speed at some point. Maybe after I close on my someday house/condo/whatever I can afford.

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Why the hell am I doing this?

I have been scarce here lately. I know I have. Some of you may already have a suspicion as to why — I’m home-shopping. But because I am in the journalism field, I don’t make enough money to make this sound even slightly exciting. Basically because I can’t afford the home I really want. I have to make exceptions, taper down my expectations and realize I may need to put work into one that I can afford. After chatting with friends and coworkers, there always seems to be an underlying opinion that I’m making a mistake.

I’ve heard one thing after another.

“You are single, why would you want to own a home?”

“Having a house is work.”

“Why now? Wait until you can afford the house you want.”

About that last one — I just have to say that I will be waiting a very long while to afford what I want and that means more and more money down the drain. The thing is no one can really know what it’s like for a person unless they live their life for a day. And the main thing I need to remember that it is ME who is making this decision and working on what’s best for my life. And if I want to ruin it with an almost move-in ready fixer-upper, then that’s what I’ll do — and with bottles of wine at arm’s length! So forgive me if I’m not all here. Though I was never all there in the first place.

“Wright” and wrong

I just didn’t want to do this. Not another post about race. Feel free to peruse past posts here where I have spoken out against how race shouldn’t matter in the scheme of things. But here we are again, and this time in regards to presidential hopeful Barak Obama. Surprise, surprise.

The remarks of Sen. Obama’s pastor Jeremiah Wright are not only embarrassing but have set us back quite a pace. Stating that blacks should “damn” America instead of bless it is not only presumptuous but it’s a self-indulgent statement. How can he speak for me as a black American? Scratch that. An American. I know that in the times not too far from my own, I would not be sitting here, writing this to you all, living the life that I live today. We have our issues of race, unfortunately, but we are still leaps and bounds beyond where we were.

But maybe I’m wrong. If race was no longer the issue it was centuries ago, why are we even here now? Here RIGHT now with a half-black man who may very well be president. Everything that has surrounded this candidate has been shrouded in a cloak of racial separation. Is he black enough? Is he too black? I want to believe we are in an America that we can look pass all of this but obviously we aren’t. On all sides — whether it be the Pastor Wrights in the world or the David Dukes.

I am not saying that Obama didn’t have to speak up for his stance on his pastor’s words. They were sorely off track and because everyone became aware of this pastor’s thoughts, Obama HAD to discuss it. However, I think the reason this has become such a grand deal is because of Obama’s ethnicity. No. Half of it. I don’t think Mitt Romney had to face this kind of attack when he was questioned on being a Mormon. Not exactly the same comparison given Pastor Wright’s remarks, but if we are going to make the connection of what happens in a person’s place of worship, we should be looking at everyone’s place of faith. Not just the select few.

Religious leaders say a slough of things we don’t usually agree with — every week. Right now there is probably someone’s priest molesting a child, somene’s reverend having an affair, someone’s pastor saying something ignorant. Oh yea. That already happened…

Let’s start worrying about who is going to pull us out of this war.

Dallas Bimbos and Bottle Service

Last night I had the displeasure pleasure to hang at my first bottle service bar. And it had one name. Like so many of them do. One name everything like we are trying to be a mini Los Angeles or something. Kind of sad. I was there for a singles event and I had a good time until everywhere we sat eventually we were kicked out of because of “reservations.” Which basically means people called ahead to spend nearly $1,000 on a table of liquor and mixers they put together themselves. Seems like that kind of money should come with a bartender at every table. So I see this Tom Leykis looking joker (but worse) come with five better looking guy friends and whip out his wallet immediately for two bottles of Belvedere. All I could think was what a way to get attention. I mean all that cash is going down the drain — literally. I mean I pee after two drinks.

Well. Like I said. I did have a nice time — prior to the crowd getting there. But I had no qualms leaving before midnight. While I waited for my car from the valet (yea, it’s THAT kind of bar where you really don’t have a choice) I was privy to a little play I call: Dallas Bimbos and Bottle Service. This is where I saw a gaggle of ditzy women, drunk, waiting for their car.

The blond says, “We need the white Volvo but we’ll take a Bentley.” Her brunette, equally vacant friend chimes in, “Yea, or an Aston Martin.” She annoyingly giggled. The blond staggered a bit. And I imagined it that is was only going to take two more chocolate martinis before that one was going to need the brunette to hold her hair back. The group of them said a number of superficial epithets. And they laughed — that laugh. The one where you have to ask if there is air between the girl’s ears. I was in absolute disbelief that the Dallas stereotype was standing right there next to me, putting on a real life comedy of errors. I wish I had a video camera.

And this is Dallas. I am thinking that at sometime back in college or better that I felt that THIS was the lifestyle I wanted. I think looking at it now at 30, I just shook my head. Before heading to my car, which I found was a $6 valet instead of $5 and the guy just stood there because there was no tip (sorry, miscalculated), I remembered all the pumped up guys who rudely brushed by me to get to the bar, the girls overdone with silicone tits and acrylic nails and the fact that I’m happy not to fit the look and attitude of the typical uptown “Dallasite.” In room of fake, I felt my own fresh air.

Was this necessary?

http://41miles.wordpress.com/2008/03/11/black-and-blind-governor-time/

I don’t want to be a hooker, but…

$4,300 for one night of the horizontal hula? Man. That’s some easy money. Well not so easy for New York governor Eliot Spitzer. You all know the story.

Shameless…

What kind of prostitute is awesome enough for nearly $5,000? I mean does she have a special skill? Does she wear something that makes men drop their pants and their wallets? I need to know this gal’s secret because I feel like it’s the key to everything. Like finding the fountain of youth. Or a safe weight-loss pill that works.

All joking aside, I’m sure everyone reading this is asking “WTF?” when you saw Spitzer’s poor wife Silda standing there, I mean standing RIGHT THERE next to that loser during his press conference. Way to put women back 50 years, lady. If it were me, and I know they have children, I would have held a much different press conference. By myself. And nothing but my lawyers and publisher in tow. Just because you have children to consider doesn’t mean that you have to put yourself aside to save face for the family. What about YOUR face? What about what it does to YOUR soul putting up with such embarrassingly public indiscretions. It’s enough to make you want to puke.

I can’t wait until we see this ho’ that Eliot had on loan (he actually had a balance with this service.) I bet she’s not all that. It’s just got to be something magical she keeps in a velvet bag and smells of fairy dust. Come on people. $4,300! No nookie can be THAT good to risk this kind of exposure — pardon the pun.

Hahahah! Kitty feels guilty.

It’s Sunday and I think too much…

I think since the start of this new year I couldn’t help thinking that things were going to change for me. For the better? I had no clue. And I’m still not sure. I’ve been reading a lot of blogs today and there seems to be an underlining thread of being at a crossroads of some kind. An awakening or a major change. Currently, I’m not really sure what mine is but I’ve realized a few things: Acceptance and risk. I’ve mentioned the latter often. The previous, not so much.

I’m not good at acceptance. I’m always waiting for something to happen to change a current situation and hopefully for the better. That doesn’t always happen for me. In fact, I don’t see it happening that often. I’ve been doing too much thinking today, however. Actually, I’ve been doing too much thinking since January. I guess I thought my calling was to leave where I am today and go forth in a new direction. Now I see it more as, “Well, Jenice. You just have to make the best of this life you have today.” Which means stop looking over my shoulder for “something else.”

At some point of your life you have to just accept your life as it is. That doesn’t mean being complacent. It just means making the best of now. And I’ve decided to officially stop searching for “something else” because I need to improve, focus and absorb what is my “now.” I’m not being idealistic because I’m doing all this acceptance sort of reluctantly. It just is a kind of growing up. I’ve said once before that 30 is like a second adolescence.

And here is where the risk comes in. I’ve officially decided I want to be a homeowner. I don’t know how it will all come out but making sure I’ve done the whole acceptance bit was the first step. Because I have to be OK with living in Texas a little while longer. No more visions of New York skylines, the scenary of Alaska or the warmth of California. No matter how much I can’t stand Dallas, I need to just grow up.