Articles in the My Life Category
Jacko, My Life, The Black Archives »
Crime of Fashion, Dating, Haterade, My Life, Not Racist Cuz It's True., That Not-So-Fresh Feeling »
The whole online dating thing is beyond out of control. This weekend BlackPeopleMeet.com tried to break fly and use a picture of D’Angelo in a Facebook ad, so I roasted them appropriately and moved on. But then this morning I opened my e-mail to find this:
Direct your gaze to the upper left-hand corner. Did a Black Big Beautiful Women dating site just send me a St. Paddy’s Day promotion?
Let me explain. A few years ago I did an online dating experiment. I
Crime of Fashion, Good Hair Gone Bad, Hair Freaks, Jacko, Miscegenation, Music, My Life, Now That's Dancing!, Our Shame, What the Eff?, Yipes! »
People always ask me, “Thembi, how do you find this stuff?” Well, this week I’m going to walk you through the process because there is no reason why a perfectly sane woman such as myself should be asking any questions about Corey Johnson. Please bear with me as I take you through the tragically painful journey of discovering all there is to know about this person.
Jacko, My Life, The Black Archives »
After my much needed hiatus I’m refreshed and re-focused…well, sort of. Since I spent the first week of the new year laying low I only absorbed all of the motivational “let get it in 2010!” talk from afar, and am rejoining the online community in a regular winter blues state of mind. It’s cold. It’s not just December on the East Coast cold, it’s freezing. I spent my time away in FLORIDA where it was only fifty degrees or so, which is way better than the negative temperatures I would have faced at home but still a huge rip off
It felt like a big explosion, minus the whole heat and debris part. So not an explosion at all, I guess. Just a swift kick in the gut.
I’ve been on pins and needles all week because this site was hacked by a malicious password-seeking virus. I’d rather drink pepper spray while sitting on a cactus and being fondled by Rush Limbaugh than have anything bad happen to this website. Fortunately, I’m slowly rebuilding what was lost in the recovery, mainly the last week’s worth of posts and comments, so if you left a comment anytime last week I’m sorry – it’s gone, just a fleeting moment, thanks for participating, au revoir. But hey, I’ll be back in full swing before
My Life, Old School Fridays »
My freshman year of high school was so uneventful that I don’t even remember it. All I recall is my first serious teacher, Mr. Mealey, making me think about science in a logical and analytical way that until that point was unprecedented (even in the Mentally Gifted Program). A quick glance at the wiki entry on music of 1993 makes matters much clearer: that was the year of Wu-Tang’s Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers).
Mmmm hmmm, that’s right. That is Ghostface Killah aka Tony Starks aka the thug gangsta jump off man of my fantasies with yours truly. Last weekend Ghostface did a show in my town, and when I heard he’d be signing autographs just
Black Hair Talk, Long Live the Colored Race!, My Life, Not Racist Cuz It's True., Post-racial America my Great Aunt Fanny., White People Is Funny. »
It happens to most black women. Whether you have relaxed or natural hair, a weave, or braids. I’m talking about white people asking questions and making nutty comments about your hair.
If you spend any time in an environment where blacks are in the minority (i.e. if you have a job), then there has to be someone who wants to touch your ‘fro, another who asks how long your braids took, and another who innocently inquires about your new weave. The effects of humidity and heat styling on Negro hair are lost to most people, and the difference between a “perm” and a “curly perm” has still not been clarified for the masses.
Last week I told myself that Michael Jackson’s memorial service would be the event to push me into the acceptance stage. Once I saw his golden casket and his brothers lined up in tribute I accepted that he is really gone. Here we are at the end of the line, and although theoretically the stages of grief can occur in any order and even cycle back and forth on top of themselves, acceptance is where we have to stay. It’s not an easy thing to do, but
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Michael Jackson is to black pop culture what George Washington Carver and his peanuts are to classical black history. He is the only person with his own category here at “What Would Thembi Do?,” and it’s well-deserved because NO ONE has said as much about fame, blackness, music, money, colorism, charisma, self-hatred, sorrow, estrangement, talent, universiality, and straight up LOVE as this man has just by living.
My Life, What the Eff?, Yipes! »
My current landlord (who could never be worse than my last one), keeps trying to out-think me regarding the mouse problem in this apartment. I’ve seen these critters up in here on multiple occasions and have caught enough of them to know that there is a steady supply of rodentia coming through my spot. When I tell him that he needs to handle it better he shrugs and says that he cant figure out where they could possibly be coming from, implying that the problem must be all in my head. Hunh?
My Life, News, Random Nostalgia, WWTD, Web Stuff »
Right now I am more overwhelmed with life than ever. I just found out that I’ve been accepted to a graduate writing program at USC (thanks to my work/your support of WWTD, might I add), and my head is spinning daily with unanswered questions about how I’m going to pay for it, how to get there, where to live, how to splash down in LA looking cute, what to do with my car, and how to say goodbye to Philly so I can proceed with this dream. Until I get my feet back on the ground and my head together posting will have to slow a bit because I’d way rather write than deal. But I should get it together soon – I feel really excited and fortunate and just cannot wait for this new chapter in life!