Beez & Hunny

Thankful Thursdays- Just Because.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 14:00:00 +0000

(Note: Many of you won't see this until Friday, but I definitely wrote this Thursday night.)

With all of the writing I do here, people could say that they know quite a bit about me. However, one side that I don't share as often on here is my spiritual one. I actually blog some of my thoughts and perceptions from that journey in a separate space, and leave the shenanigans, random musings, and pop culture here. One practice I've really been trying to get into more is being more aware of the people and things I appreciate. During my reflection times, I try to keep track of things I'm thankful for overall, that day, and sometimes that minute. These things range from the mundane and shallow to the serious, life-altering issues. For me, it's an exercise in awareness of self, awareness of others, and awareness of life. Perhaps Thankful Thursdays will become a more frequent feature as I just strive to... think better.

I even made a logo!

So, today, I'm thankful for the following:

Another day not promised that I was given.
Countless opportunities to do things for others.
My dad getting to celebrate his 50th birthday this week-it's not been the best 50 for him, but he's gotten there.
This mild, underwhelming winter- I've not had to wade in knee-deep snow just to get to the bus stop, and I'm not complaining about it.
Friends and family who check on me, especially when I'm not taking care of myself. I'm learning to better help others, I've got to be a better me.
Those knowing glances from people that say so much, that additional words aren't necessary.
Those creepy geese in my park backyard being gone. For now.
The ability to write where my verbal skills escape me. Seriously- I can be in the middle of a conversation, and all of a sudden, my mind goes blank. What follows is usually something completely asinine, like "duh- oranges are subservient?" I'm glad my writing helps in that.
Hugs, when I can get them. I am quite selective of who I let in that space, but sometimes, you just need a hug at the end of the day.
Videos of babies, puppies, or babies and puppies on YouTube, because they brighten the days of everyone within a 15 foot radius of me.
The ability to hide everything (and everyone) that annoys me on facebook, including that scrolling side-ticker.
Connecting with people from the most unlikely of sources, including Twitter. They make all of my out-of-town experiences that much more... everything.
Music and chicken. No further comment.

What kind of things are you thankful for? I don't mind if you're shallow or deep- share all of your happies.

Pinterest is Evil and I'm Not Exactly Sure Why.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 13:00:00 +0000

I Love Charts may be onto something.

About a week ago, I decided to drink the Kool-Aid. You see, this site Pinterest has been out for a while now, allowing people to create virtual "pinboards" about whatever their hearts desire. From the beginning, I was staunchly against it. Reports have come out recently stating the site has been reaching record numbers traffic-wise, and I couldn't understand why. The site apparently attracts a high percentage of females compared to males, creating endless visions of weddings, clothing, and generally domesticated stuff. Given the goal of my tumblr (my attempts at being girly and whatnot), shouldn't I have jumped on this train a while ago? I mostly figured it was like tumblr (another semi-micro-blogging platform I use) for housewives and crafty housewives-in-training.

Well, I was right.

Days after defending my unwillingness to join (yet) another social network, a text to an enabling friend (I love you, girl!) had me receiving an invite, through facebook and my email. From the onset, I was confused- I have to share all of this stuff with my 1000 closest facebook friends? Most of them don't even know how many siblings I have in real life!* As soon as I figured out how to log in, I was asked to mark things I'm interested in, and it automatically had me follow the pins of roughly 100 people. *facepalm*

The text that started it all. I recharged soon after.

The next thing I know, I'm on a 'dashboard' with nothing but pictures. Food pictures. Wedding pictures. Baby pictures. Pet pictures. Shoe pictures (well, I didn't mind those as much). Postcard-esque travel pictures. It was overwhelming to say in the least, so of course, I did what any sensible person (or business) would do, and tried to figure out what I could do with this space. I sought to find out the goals of Pinterest, if you will. A visit to the help section brought the following piece:

Pinterest lets you organize and share all the beautiful things you find on the web. People use pinboards to plan their weddings, decorate their homes, and organize their favorite recipes.

Oh, great. And the mission:

Our goal is to connect everyone in the world through the 'things' they find interesting. We think that a favorite book, toy, or recipe can reveal a common link between two people. With millions of new pins added every week, Pinterest is connecting people all over the world based on shared tastes and interests.

That's really cute, Pinterest. Really cute. From what I can tell between the following cues, not much interaction really goes on past the "repinning" motion. You pretty much scroll endlessly, find something that catches your eye, repin it, and repeat. How exactly one makes friends like this, I'm not sure. Maybe it's not for that. The mission is to connect people to things, and not exactly people. Besides, I have the tendency to pick out patterns in things, and I clearly see a few personality types on here that bother me just a bit:

Single Girl Planning Her Wedding- This could be because I'm legitimately creeped out by the trend of these 'single bridezillas' planning their weddings down to the detail (rings, dress, photography poses) without even having a boyfriend. The hours I've heard some people spend towards this scares me. This is more than putting the cart before the horse- it's expanding the cart, buying a couple of horses, leaving them at home just in case, and then forgetting the cart in order to buy a Rolls Royce. As a generation, I think women have gone a little wedding crazy, placing more emphasis on what is essentially a formal-ish fancy party instead of working on yourself to be the best self before marrying. I'll probably rant more about this later, so moving on...

My thoughts exactly, Ryan.

Super Crafty Something or Other- We get it. You like making things. You knit, sew, paint, reupholster, and découpage like no one's business. You'd DIY a TV if you could. There's nothing wrong with this at all. Not to say that I'm not in awe of your skills, because I clearly can't craft my way out of a paper bag. Let's just say I'm slightly jealous of your skills and that somewhat annoys me.
I've Seen How You Dress In Real Life- So many "My Style" boards, which to me, suggests items that the user would currently wear, or already owns. For many users, "My Style" translates to "My Fantasy." Runway models and sleek styles abound in this board, yet your personal brand looks more inspired by Lea Michele's character (granny + toddler) on Glee? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but just be you.
You NEVER Eat That!- Some of my friends have tastes so refined (read: picky) that it's a wonder that they ever do eat. All of a sudden, on Pinterest, you become a well-seasoned foodie, liking and repinning things you likely wouldn't even sniff. I find this brand humorous, because as a picky eater (with exotic tastes) myself, you won't catch me liking a bananas foster, no matter how many people have liked or repinned it.

The verdict's still out on whether I'll continue to pin, or if I'll go the way of deactivation until I grow up and decide to do something (or ALL the things!) myself. I suppose I'm still trying to find my niche in this huge world of pinnery, and need a little guidance as to where to start. Perhaps once I unfollow all of the 'dream wedding' boards, I'll have something to look forward to. So, the question for you is- Have you or do you currently use Pinterest? What value are you getting out of the site? I look forward to your answers.

Duh... Pinning!
--Beez
* I have two siblings- fun fact.

Grannies Win at Life. Always.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 15:00:00 +0000

Grandmothers are special. From the time we enter their lives, a bond is formed that can't be duplicated or replaced. I remember both of my grandmothers fondly: memories of fried chicken, celebrity gossip and talk shows, flood my mind more often than I'd like to admit sometimes. These were the ones who took my side over my parents in any of my tween angst issues. One lived in Florida, and the other down the street, and no matter where I was, whenever I talked to them, I was home. I remember the boxes of oranges and grapefruits sent every winter, picked from the trees in the backyard. They tasted like love.

And sunshine.

Anyway, one thing I really adore about grandmothers is that they can delve into popular culture, and be the talk of the town. No one boos grandmothers like they would cheesy mothers and fathers trying the same thing. In fact, we cheer them on with enthusiasm, glossy eyed at the cuteness they radiate. You remember the rapping granny from The Wedding Singer? She said a hip, a hop, a hippy, and we bopped along. Grannies + Ratchetness = Winning at life.

This is why I'm thankful for YouTube. With the technology offered on phones and webcams all over, we can all indulge in Cute Granny Tricks on YouTube (instead of the usual cat videos.)¹

To help you get started, here are a few of my favorite granny videos (some of these have a language warning, so deem them NSFW or KIDS):

Rack City Grandma- I had never even heard of this song before this video. In usual YouTube fashion, a teenager is lip synching to this anthem of... whatever, while in the background, the true star shines. Grandma went to work and hit her cat daddy.

Three Six Granny- Grandmother raps along to the lyrical stylings of Academy Award winners Three Six Mafia. She actually catches the flow and all while son does some kind of frenetic twitching in the background. I'm not a big fan of this song, and I haven't even heard it all the way, but... extreme language on this one. She's like a dirty version of the Rapping Granny from America's Got Talent.

Granny Walks It Out- Nothing like seeing grandmothers in the moment with the grandkids. At this family gathering, grandma is introduced to the 'walk it out' craze of some years back, and her commentary is priceless. I keeled over when she yelled, "AWLAWD- my knees hurt!" and her "this is some GOOD exercise!" line reminded me of something my own mom would say. She was definitely a good sport, even if the grandkids put her on myspace.²

Granny Pats Her Weave- Don't get in this granny's way when Beyonce comes on- she is trying to get bodied (whatever on Earth that means). Y'all see how she has that back it up and bounce move executed perfectly on that walker? She even strolled around it for a little bit of model walking that would make Tyra Banks proud.

Granny Hitting Usher Moves- Remember back in the day when Usher was a cherubic crooner who only had to worry about what girl to walk home from school? When The Box was still music television we controlled, a certain video featuring 5, count 'em, FIVE Usher Raymonds, jigging across the screen to one of his biggest hits, "U Make Me Wanna." My siblings and I would watch, memorize, and perform the choreography live from the living room, often arguing over who would be which Usher. I preferred guitar strummer-Usher. Looks like this grandma got her review, learn, repeat on, too. And HIT IT.

The Electric Sliding Elder Club- I'd be doing you all a disservice if I didn't introduce you to some of my favorite dancing elders. Well, actually, it's a group featuring all ages called Step In The Name of Life (see what they did there?) a community based organization seeking to better people's overall health, that posted videos of its students learning all of these slides I never knew existed. One day last summer, I stumbled upon their videos, and like anything you shouldn't, I kept watching. What did I learn? Every song has a slide. EVERY SONG. HAS. A SLIDE. Enjoy!

Dear ones, enlighten me with your zany grandmother tales in the comments- what kind of adorably ratchet, off the wall things do they do that make your day?

Signing off from Rack City (wherever that is),
Beez

¹ Not that there's anything wrong with cat videos, but I can't watch too many. I'm allergic, and the videos almost make me sneeze sometimes.
² RIP, Myspace. We hardly knew ye. Or really wanted to.

Manifesto of a New iPhone User- My Promise

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 15:03:00 +0000

Just imagine this is the logo on the phone.

Hi, there.

If you can't tell by the title, I've joined "the cult." A little over two weeks ago, I was waiting on a very special delivery. I heard very special things about this gadget, and to make a good first impression, I might have dolled myself up a little. UPS was playing with my emotions, sending me texts that a package was on my doorstep. It wasn't there, and I was upset... but I kept waiting, reapplying lip gloss, and primping. When that lovely little parcel arrived, I opened it, and expected magic. I mean, it is the number one smartphone in the world, and after having Palms for the last 7 years (and being comfortable enough with webOS), I was ready for something different. Too bad I didn't get the memo that phones can't do like Laddie, the super-dog from The Simpsons that gathers a fruit basket for you upon opening.

After a few hours, though, I was convinced that this investment was pretty much worth it, but in the interest of my social life, I cannot allow myself to become an apple-holic. In order to keep my priorities intact and stay marketable for a husband one of these days, I've prepared a manifesto of sorts. For those unfamiliar with the term, a manifesto is simply a written declaration of intentions, intended to be a focus for my duration of my reign as an iPhone user. Count down with me, and feel free to apply these to your life where necessary.

The New iPhone User's Manifesto

As a new iPhone user, I promise the following:

I will not preface every verb with a little i. iSee a lot of iFans do this. iThink it's a way for people to be unified in their iStandom. It can be a little fun in the beginning, but after about 20 minutes, it gets old. We get it- you pledge allegiance to the iPhone.
I will not turn every question into a new episode of "Ask Siri." To be quite honest, the idea of Siri actually scared me in the beginning. A "virtual assistant" that catered to your every need by voice? I wasn't buying it- mostly because I feel the stuff I ask Siri to do at this point, I can do a lot faster myself. Besides, I'm never really that busy to where Siri has to set my alarm, send a text for me, or reschedule a (nonexistent) appointment on my calendar. If you're that important, then knock yourself out with those features. Of course, since Siri is still in beta, it's actually more fun to just ask her (I think she's a girl) random questions and see what she's talking about.

See what I'm saying? Photo Credit: Sh*t That Siri Says

I will not use every conversation as a segue into the mission of "convert everyone into Mac/iPhone users." This is probably one of my biggest gripes about Mac users. Some of them operate under this aura of self-importance, as if Windows is that much beneath them. I personally can use either, and have no qualms about which is seemingly better. If a Mac's around, I'll use it. If a PC is available, I likely bought it because I can afford it. No need for me to sing the praises of (the late) Steve Jobs, or try and down everything Microsoft or Palm has ever done for me just because I have this new gadget. Truth is, I like gadgets in any form, so redeeming qualities can be found in anything for me.
I will not become an instagram/hipstamatic/phototoaster etc. "photographer." You've seen them- the seemingly endless streams of photos on someone's facebook or twitter profile. How many ways can one doctor up the same photo? What is the appeal of editing photos to look like they were all created decades before any of us were born? The fact that some use this medium as their primary photography method completely bothers me. I've tried instagram, and let me tell ya, THERE ISN'T MUCH OF A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE 80 FILTERS. For the sake of comparison, I'll add two photos I just took, one normal, and one with special effects:

My laptop before. Check the lap desk.

My laptop- Instagrammed.

See? It's still a crappy photo, just with flair, finesse, and technique! I wish it could be a deeper photo, that symbolized the struggle of my fingers amidst the keyboard, but seriously, that ain't that. Filters don't make your photos deeper or inherently more interesting. Please... don't subject your friends to endless streams of this. If you still insist on it, at least take down the sharing settings.

Any of you former or current iPhone users have any important tips or recommendations for me, just to make sure I don't tee off the general population? Feel free to share below.

Siri will never rule everything around me,

Beez

Jimmy Kimmel - Cruelty to Children!

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 12:00:00 +0000

I must admit (for those who already don't know), I have a soft spot for children.

The little precious puffs I watch on a regular basis, and those that I don't watch as much all hold a special place in my gargantuan heart. In my eyes, they can do no wrong. In my mom's eyes, they're my babies. That I didn't have the pleasure of giving birth to.

With that said, I do love watching them grow, and their logic development process. Their ability to take everything so literally is astounding. Sometimes, I wonder where I went wrong with over-thinking things. When a three year old refuses to have her Snow White doll wear Cinderella's dress (even though Cinderella's dress is currently on Ariel), because "that's not how it goes," it can be tiring. Never mind how or why Cindy's dress bibbity-bobbity-booe'd over to Ariel anyway. "Ariel needed a dress- she's nakey!" Fine, kid. Fine. She didn't take too kindly to my paper towel dress suggestion, but I was ready to move on from doll-play.

I realize that sarcasm does not work well with the two-to-four-year old set, but it makes me happy, darnit. It just does. That, and as the five year olds will say, "tricking them." That, friends, is a process in which you tell a blatant untruth, to see if the tiny brain will uncover it. Usually, it ends up with the little on erupting in giggles, because they just KNOW Mickey Mouse does not quack. No matter how many times you try and tell them.

This past Halloween, Jimmy Kimmel (whose show I'll admit I never watch until there are good music guests- AND he has The Roots as a band!) instructed parents around the country to "trick" their offspring, by telling them this past Monday that their Halloween candy was eaten overnight. Not by the demented Cavity Fairy, but by their own moms and dads. The reactions were recorded, and hilarity ensued.

The range of emotions that a child can go through in a minute's worth of time is amazing. The giggly faces, to the straight-faces, to shock, to wallsliding, denouncing of mother's love, to paper throwing... these kids showed their emotions. ALL of them. That little boy that punched the wall, though? No bueno.

The last little boys in pajamas were TOO adorably snarky. "...you're a SNEAKY MOM!" "Well, that's just great. You're gonna have a bellyache." Well, they do what they hear...

Would you ever pull a prank like this on your kids, or have you already? Christmas is coming soon- would a "Santa Didn't Come" be too much? I'm pretty sure future Baby Beezes will just have to grin and bear it. Because I will trick them. And roast them when they cry. Then love them, and bake cookies for being such sports with an ignant mama.

Happy Friday!
Beez

PS- Next week, I'm taking a trip. Out of the country. :)

Chain of Fools

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 12:00:00 +0000

In the digital world, fast is the only word that matters. We want our news fast. Our e-mails fast. Our movie tickets, restaurant reviews, IMs, and television shows streamed- fast, fast, fast, fast. With access to endless gadgets to satisfy our lust for knowledge, we often unknowingly enter a race where 'first' isn't always the desired place.

Just say, "NO." to chains. Do it in separate languages if needed.

Enter the chain letter. Ever since we can remember, our online identities have encountered them. They range from the messages of hope and inspiration made to brighten your day to the Sent to everyone on your aunt's (or mom's) email address book, as a 15 part text message forwarded from China, and even our social networks. Bad grammar aside, we take these messages for what they're worth (I mean, it came from my first grade best friend!), and pass them on in fear of the consequences located near the end. There's always a consequence. Someone likely falls victim to a chain message about every 1.8 seconds. Because I care, I will offer a couple of tips to make sure it isn't you:

Got common sense? Use it. If Bill Gates wanted to pay 5 cents for every email sent in the name of Insert Sick Kiddington, he'd probably go for something a bit grander than an email whose origin can't be found. If Mark Zuckerberg wanted to introduce some kind of pricing structure for Facebook, he wouldn't rely on a bunch of people to spread the word and make your profile change color just to prove you did it. Not when he has access to your personal contact information, favorite movies and music, and brand preferences.

Doesn't sound right? Fact-check it. When you come across the latest rumor on your smartphone, tablet, or netbook, why not perform a quick search to check the legitimacy before just copying and pasting? The latest Facebook rumor started with the words "it was even on the news." Whose news? Where is the proof? Google is your friend. Snopes is your friend. Bookmark them on your fancy gadgets and race to know the truth before you post blindly.

Is it in all caps? Probably a bust. No grownup should use all capital letters when relaying a message that's meant to be taken seriously. Traditionally, an all caps message meant the sender is yelling at you, but today, it's likely not the case. Something about any text written in all capitals makes me want to automatically skip over it, convinced the sender hates me from head to . The same could be said for horrible grammar, nonexistent punctuation, and the Comic Sans typeface.

When all else fails, you can just say no to the chain. That little girl's ghost WILL NOT haunt you at 11:11 if you don't forward. Your true love WILL NOT suddenly awaken from a stupor and make your world a happily ever after one. Long lost Nigerian relatives DO NOT have a sudden fortune bequeathed to you solely. Surprisingly, the world continues to go on as if these outcomes have no impact. Perhaps the world is onto something.

You know what, though? The chain can end with you. Stop the foolishness.

Don't Be a Link to the Chain(s),
Beez

Operation White Cake Just Raised the Bar.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Yesterday, in my usual Facebook/Twitter/Tumblr rotation, I came across a video that might as well had been labeled The Cutest Thing Ever. You see, this guy Shawn decided his girlfriend of 7 years was definitely the one he wanted (No Zukko). They had plans to elope in Vegas then announce it casually among friends soon after. However, Shawn decided girlfriend Colleen deserved much more than that, and in a series of conversations for a year, Shawn recorded details of what would make a wedding perfect for Colleen, then made it happen.

Yes, you heard that right. He planned a wedding down to the details she wanted. Had her dream dress flown in, the family members and friends on location, and the crew of bridesmaids dressed and ready to go. All that was needed was a willing bride. That part would (hopefully) come soon enough.

Everybody in attendance was at the designated spot before Colleen, so those who weren't in the know were informed that the bride-to-be didn't even know of this surprise. It was like a surprise party, except with a white dress, new rings, and a marriage license as parting gifts. Shawn threw in some lovely quotables from The Princess Bride as an added touch, and began to pace nervously, awaiting his girlfriend's arrival. He hoped if she said yes, everything she needed was available, since he even arranged for all of her bedroom furniture to be on-site, in the same arrangement she has it at home. Seriously, this guy needs an award. If not for making me lose my thug at the phrase "Martha Stewart paper balls," then for having such an immaculate attention to detail when planning what (I'm told) is one of the most significant days of a woman's life. Colleen is, quite possibly, the luckiest woman on earth.

*cue applause and awwwws*

With the onslaught of surprise proposals I've seen recently, this took it up a notch. I'd definitely be down if the man in my life decided to just go for what he knew and plan the most splendid shindig of my life. I'd catch about 50 jigs knowing I'd never get a chance to flap my Bridezilla wings. I'm not saying I have them, but wedding planning just seems to bring out the ugly in some women.

Oh, and here's the video detailing this day-long journey from girlfriend to fiancee to wife. Feel free to send them well-wishes at operationwhitecake@gmail.com.

So...
Would any of you be willing to

plan and coordinate surprise nuptials for your beloved, or
gladly participate if my love decided to pull something like this off?

Discuss.

That's love in the air, not sulfur.
--Beez

It's Friday So Laugh: The Literal Video

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 18:00:00 +0000

Happy Friday!

Almost the weekend for those of us behind desks, in cubicles, or roaming coffee shops for free Wi-Fi. I know most of you are counting down the hours, minutes, seconds, and heartbeats until your weekend begins. Most of you are already mentally clocked out of work, and looking for activities to bide your time. If you're in the mood for a laugh, I present for approval of the Hive Dwellers (that's y'all!), the literal video.

What is a literal video, Beez? you ask. Well, it's a trend I found on YouTube that basically highlights the truth that often, music videos have nothing to do with the songs. The makers of these videos then superimpose lyrics of what's actually happening in the video (stage and camera direction included) to the tune of the original song, and laughs are had by all. Or just me. So here, I'll introduce you to some of my favorites. No particular order.

10 "Take On Me"- A Ha
The creator of this video apparently started the trend with it. I am forever thankful to this person.

9 "Total Eclipse of the Heart"- Bonnie Tyler **Embedding's disabled, so you'll have to click the link**
What kind of private school would let in these kind of guys? It started off as Hogwarts, now it's Lord of the Flies!

8 "Love Is A Battlefield" Pat Benetar
Just wait for the choreography scene.

7 "Ghostbusters" Ray Parker
Yes, the movie theme. My only gripe is the sound is a little faint at times. Or through the whole thing.

6 "Sex and Candy" Marcy Playground
The voice is pretty accurate... I need more 'mmmmb's, though.

5 "Just a Friend" Biz Markie
Even works for rap videos, where your butlers walk with gangsta leans.

4 "Hello" Lionel Richie
Way to highlight the stalker aspects of this video.

3 "Fireflies" Owl City
I know a lot of folks hated this song, but I find it special. Love the literal video being frustrated with pacing.

2 "I Wanna ~~Sex~~ You Up" Color Me Badd
I think part of what makes it funny is the horrible singing. Pelvic thrust, right jab, Sosa.

1 "Billie Jean" Michael Jackson
I'm sure you know if there was a Thrillermaker video made, I was including this on the list, right? This was actually the first one I ever saw, and alerted me to the trend. Duh-nuh. Elbow dance!

So, what do you think? Will the literal versions of these songs be stuck in your head like they are in mine? Which is your favorite? If you have any favorites not on the list, feel free to share.

Happy Weekend!
Beez

Kickstarting Awkward Black Girl Domination

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Hi!

So, in my last post, I praised Issa Rae and her brilliance with her webseries The Misadventures of AWKWARD Black Girl. So far, the series is about 6 episodes in, and episode 7 should launch next week (first Thursday each month, for those who like keeping track). The cast and crew were originally going to end the first season at episode 7, but with the onslaught of support received recently, they decided to extend it.

To do this, though, they need our help. There is a kickstarter account available for friends, admirers, and well-wishers to donate to, and no amount is too small. If my words don't convince you, perhaps this video with insight from the cast about the intentions of this project will sway you. ~~If not, maybe "A's" FAHNNESS will sway you.~~

I've said it before, and I wholeheartedly believe it: WE NEED THIS. Not only for the awkward quirky Black girls, but for the awkward quirky people all over the world. Someone can find a way to relate to any aspect of this series, and that raw honesty is what I adore about it.

In the meantime, if you've watched all episodes of The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl and are biding your time between episodes, check out some of Issa's other projects. I highly recommend Dorm Diaries (produced when she was still in undergrad) and FLY GUYS Present: "The F Word" (links take you to the first episode of each- you're welcome).

Happy weekend, friends! May you find joy and laughter, no matter what state of awkward you find yourself in!

*tries to salute y'all; karate chops my own throat*

Uh... I meant to do that.

Brother, Can You Spare 25,000 Dimes?
--Beez

Confessions of an Awkward Black Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Hey, there.

If any of you are my friends on facebook (sidenote- I should get one of those fan pages, eh?), you know that I have been raving for MONTHS about the webseries, The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl. If the name alone doesn't catch your fancy as it did for me, allow me to give you a brief overview of the series. The protagonist, J (played by writer/director Issa Rae) is awkward, black, and a woman, so we get to see how she navigates those three unchangeable aspects in everyday life. She shares that internal dialogue that we often have when faced with situations that, to the average person, are nothing, but to the awkward person, it becomes the BIGGEST THING EVER. A perfect example is the protocol for running into someone repeatedly at stop signs, highlighted in the very first episode, shown below.

With that said, this series is EVERYTHING. Being a black woman, it's hard to find a series out that wants to accurately depict us as something other than basketball jumpoffs or Atlanta socialites. Some of us love quirky too- heck, some of us ARE quirky! Sure, there are shows out there that feature black people, like that one guy on The Office...

Yay-diversity!

... or that one lady from Parks and Recreation ~~that isn't Rashida Jones, who is Black but they probably never mention it~~ , who I can only call 'mmm-hmmm,' because that's all she seems to say...

Mmm-hmm (Note: she actually does say more than this)

...but there isn't a show that features a girl that looks like me as the main character, engaging in normal activities outside of auditioning for the next Immature video, and that sucked, until TMOABG (word to acronyms) came on the scene. In honor of the show, I decided to embrace my own brand of awkward, and highlight some features in my daily life that I can't help because of it:

Meeting New People- I'll be honest: I suck at this. Because I'm an observer by nature, I tend to be on the tail end of meeting folks, in order to avoid the crowds and get to know you on my own terms. Plus, when there's so many people and things to do, I get a bit flustered, and start to wonder about silly things, like where my hands need to be at any given moment. Uh, pause. Plus, my perception is a mofo, so even before our firs encounter, I may be able to pick up on your entire being in a way that will scare you and I both. Not in a creepy way, but I'm just usually spot on with my first impressions.
Conversation Style- Admittedly, I have a bit of a short attention span, yet it gets better with the more things I'm involved in. I actually prefer talking on the phone more than in person, and don't care much for texting, except with folks I know won't respond with k's and o's. That said, if engaged with you one on one and my eyes start darting, don't take it personally. Rest assured I'm still paying attention, and listening well. I just need to figure out where my hands go. Pause.
Facial Expressions- My face tells everything I'm thinking, intended or not. If I know and trust you really well, I can even have a full conversation with you based on these expressions. Even if I'm not expressing myself with words, which I admittedly suck at, my faces will usually be your clue as to whether I'm really into your story about *insert whatever you're talmbowt,* or if I'm replaying an episode of Legends of the Hidden Temple in my head, and mad that the kid can't put together the Shrine of the Silver Monkey (seriously- it's three pieces: butt, middle, and jam the head. WHY DO THEY TREAT THIS LIKE PHYSICS?!).
Interaction with Babies- My past, present, and future is Nanny McBeez. With that in mind, people think I this magical infant guru who can speak in soothing tones to their wee ones and they gleefuly comply. More often than not, this is not the case. I despise baby talk, so I speak to infants like they know what hedge funds are. When soothing them, I urge them to think about their lives and their choices. When they decide to make messes, I give them a Powerpoint presentation on the effects of littering. I suppose my unwavering patience is what eventually wins me over with the pre-walker set.
Inability to Take Compliments- This is, by far, the most awkward thing I do. Every time I get complimented on something, my brain processes it as "you're messed up somewhere- and it's BAD!" which leads me to downplay the compliment the complimenter was trying to compliment me on in the first place. *takes breath* Still with me? The conversation that follows is usually what cements my place in the awkward hall of fame. For example:

Nice person- Hey, I like your eye makeup.
My Internal Monologue- You didn't pluck your eyebrows- YOU LOOK LIKE DRAKE IN THE FACE!
Me (out loud): Uh... thank... you? I mean... I don't do this too often, so I was sure I left the house with my certificate from Tammy Faye's School of Messed Up About the Face-Ness For Colored Girls Who Considered Wet and Wild When MAC was Too Expensive.
Nice Person: Uhhhhrrrrmm... Nebmind. *runs away*

Because, as always, I'm working on being a work in progress, I am now aware that my state of awkwardness begins in my head, where all of this wacky stuff takes place. Then again, as the famous knitter Albus Dumbledore once said, "Of course it is happening inside your head... but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" With acknowledgment comes acceptance, and with acceptance comes... t-shirts.

Series creator, Issa Rae, with the phrase of my life. Get them here.

If you want to watch more episodes beyond the first, you can find them at the website, or on YouTube. Follow on facebook or twitter if you have it, too.

Sharing time! How awkward do you allow yourself to be, in the company of yourself and/or others?

Hoping none of my clients call CPS on me,
Beez

So, Now I Can Kick* Back and Relax!

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Friends,

I come with a special announcement today, but what good is getting to the point of it all, when I can mess with your heads for a bit? It has been a while. Anyway, how many of you all were born in the 80's, like me? The decade(s) in which we grew up provided pop culture references for a lifetime. I could just start a game of "Remember _____?" with you all now, and watch your eyes glaze over as you recall fond memories of:

Smurfs
Snap bracelets
Goosebumps books
The Simpsons when they were funny
Finish the theme lyrics- Some times, some crimes, go slipping through the cracks...
Lisa Frank ERRTHANG (seriously, how many rainbow pony penguins can one fit on a pencil?)
Baggy overalls and decorating t-shirts with puffy paint
Days before Apple Bottom jeans and boots with the fur would have been laughed at

Even images can send you into a frenzy. For example, let's get Exhibit A out and see who doesn't turn into a pile of mush:

Stick Stickly is my homeboy. I still remember his address.

Takes you back, right? Well, I've been reliving my childhood a bit, thanks in part to Netflix. I recently re-discovered classics such as Rugrats, Madeline, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and VR Troopers again, and have turned it into a MST3K-type viewing experience. How awesomely cheesy is that! So, yesterday, I was feeling all nostalgic on the Twitter, and tweeted the following:

Word.

I feel as an adult, I'd be able to identify more with the quirky humor of Pete squared, or The Adventures of Pete and Pete. Digging up some of my old favorites, like Ren and Stimpy and Rocko's Modern Life (also on Netflix), clued me into how ridiculously mature the themes of those shows were. How is it that my younger eyes, ears, and mind only scratched the surface of the material, and it was still great? Pleasantries and similar thoughts of awesome were exchanged between myself, Nick, and That Ethiopian or Whatever He Is Boy, and I went on about my day. Later on, I received a message from Nick, informing me of what I can only deem the BEST NEWS EVER (and the point of this post): SNICK is coming back- and soon!

Come. On. Jesus.

That's right, friends. On July 25th, we can begin to partake of the shows of years past, according to the TeenNick blog. I, for one, cannot wait. I have a lot of questions that need to be answered, such as:

Why was a boy allowed to just climb in and out of Clarissa's room all willy-nilly, without even announcing himself? Furthermore, what exactly did she explain, besides a whole lot of nothing?
Am I REALLY afraid of the dark?
Are Earboy's ears really as big as Pizza Face claimed they were?
Who gave Little Pete a tattoo?
Why was Cousin Skeeter the only puppet in a family of humans?
When Alex Mack turned into her traveling puddle, where on Earth did her clothes go?
Was Allen Strange really all that strange, or just misunderstood?
Why did Nickelodeon feel like a pie in the face or slime was the cure-all punishment?
What was the THAT which you couldn't do on television?

Man, I could go on for ages. Let's just say that on the 25th, I will be GLUED to a television like never before. For those of you with children, you'll get to share a bit of your history with them, and see if they enjoy it as much as you do! I wonder if some of the old game shows will be aired, too. I loved some Legends of the Hidden Temple (outside of those boors that couldn't put together a THREE PIECE monkey), Nick Arcade, and GUTS. I'm about to cry from excitement. What am I supposed to do for the next... 13 days? Lawd! I guess I could always, uh...

...attempt to do this.

Maybe I'll say words I never thought to say before now, like "Thank you, Nick Cannon (who is the chairman at TeenNick)." That actually felt funny, so I'll just continue to squee and bounce around until the 25th.

What were some of your favorite shows from the SNICK lineup, or from Nickelodeon in general? Will you be in front of someone's television come July 25th?

In the meantime, I'll leave you with a jingle...
Write to me, Beez Hunny, PO Box 620,
Won't disclose my city, or my state, but the zip code ends in eight!

PS- Check out the first letters of the first 5 words in the title. :)

Summer Showdown: Tips To Keep Your Cookouts Hassle-Free

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Mon, 30 May 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Dust Those Tables Off.

We never thought it would come, but sign of the season are ringing out: The (scary) park geese have returned, squirrels are trying to jack me for my ice cream, sunsets are happening AFTER Wheel of Fortune, and spontaneous car wash parties to Will Smith's "Summertime" are prevalent. Summer is near, friends! With that said, I know hemlines are elevating as people find more and more reason to be outside. One of the most popular outdoor getaways during the season include the cookout. Memorial Day (in the US) is coming up, and because I care, I have compiled a list of tips to help your summer cookouts go a little bit easier:

•The invite- Make sure to give people notice when planning an outdoor grillfest. Summer is also the season for impromptu road trips and getaways, and the last thing you need is to show up all dressed up for a party: population 1. Decide if you're going to host, or if you'll provide an arena and the basics, leaving guests and well wishers room to bring a dish.

•Accepting- If someone has been hospitable enough to invite you to their shindig- a prompt response is not only a suggestion, but a requirement. Not to mention, if you plan on bringing your plus one (or two, or twenty), you should double check with the host to make sure that’s cool- don’t bring all of those folks if the host didn’t get enough hot dogs at Sam’s Club! That’s just rude. Also, if invited to someone’s home, bring something- a side dish (desserts and snacks count), a ‘thank you’ gift for the host, a smile and a helping hand… anything helps.

•The setup/service- Personally, this is the area where I have the most issues with, mostly due to disorganization and an act I call ‘hovering’- After you’ve served yourself, you continue to hover in the general direction of the food service area, blocking other people’s way to the goods. Please, please, PLEASE don’t do this! Between that and sitting at the same table(s) where food is being served, nothing gives me the heebie jeebies more in an outdoor service station situation. For your convenience, I made up this diagram designed as an aerial view of your serving space (below; click to enlarge)to help your service line flow a little easier. The key is sticking items and their complements alike; ain’t no reason the hot dog buns need to be on the next to the desserts if the hot dogs are 15 serving trays before.

•Food etiquette- If you read my Thanksgiving post, you’d know I don’t advocate you trying out new things on unsuspecting crowds. Just because Sandra Lee made a Kwanzaa cake with corn nuts and Cool-Whip doesn’t mean you can (or SHOULD) even think about trying¹. Make something easy, and try to label your dish in some way if it isn’t easily identifiable. If you’re going through the line and don’t know what something is, don’t poke and prod and say, “What IS that?” in a loud voice to no one in particular. It comes off as super rude and insensitive. If you’re not sure about something, just take a small serving, find the person who made it, and politely ask them what’s in it if you have allergy or similar concerns. Speaking of small servings, keep in mind (especially if you’re among the first in the line for your first round of many) how many people are behind you, and even those yet to arrive. With that said, don’t pile your plate like you haven’t eaten all day, even if it is true. Save some for others! That goes for you, too, you serial “make a to-go plate for home first, then make a for-now eating plate” makers. Just cut that out entirely.

•The fun- Bring stuff! Bring your volleyballs, basketballs, or if you’re like me and sporting goods randomly end up hitting you in the face… the badminton rackets and shuttlecocks *stifles laughter*². Bring your board games and your card games³. The goal is fun, and don’t let the rain be a deterrent; just have a backup plan just in case. If you don’t have suggestions of making things happen, you have no right to complain about the quality of entertainment. Your bad. *shrug*

•Disassembling- Try and be a bit helpful in the cleanup, and not just run off after you’re all tired and sweaty from whatever calorie burning activities you’re engaged in. This is usually the time when your host(s) are playing “Match the leftovers/dishes” to the owners, and the longer you take gloating about your high school volleyball skills before that thing happened to your knee, the longer it will be before your host can call it a night. Ideally, you would have kept an eye on whatever you brought (WITHOUT hovering the serving table), and known what was left. If you have leftovers, make arrangements for them- are they going to your house, someone else’s house, or the trash? If you’ve brought a dish, do you want it back? This is even true for the disposable ones (It's a recession, and folks are trying to be green with ev.uh.ree.thang.). Help out with some of the cleanup- empty ice from coolers, put the fire(s) out, and make sure the kids are still visible. Offer thank-yous, swap recipes, and promise to do it all again!

With these rules, I hope your summer gatherings can be full of light, love, and happy bellies. Happy Memorial Day, too.

Yours in Trying to Figure Out Why These Coals Didn’t Light Again (Eff it, we’re going wood!),
Beez

^{1 For video of the offensively infamous Kwanzaa cake experiment, click here. Not for those with weak stomachs.}
^{2 Yes, I know I am a child. *snorts*}
^{3 With cards, be careful. A wary game of spades can mess up friendships, marriages and mortgages. Consider this your warning. Stick to lesser games if you're not that fancy.}

We Get It: You Don't Care

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 13:53:00 +0000

Royal news got you sluggish? Try a Snickers.

On this joyous of occasions, when I have decided to pull my space (no Tom) out of semi-retirement, I have decided to delight you in some of the things that have been garnering my annoyance as of late.

Today's topic: The person(s) who never stop talking about how they don't care about something.

I'll admit: I am currently watching the Royal Wedding, and though I didn't really commit to participating either way, my curiosity drew me in. For me, the viewing began a learning of traditions and customs that I wouldn't necessarily find in my home country. As an added bonus, I got to see old money at work.

What I didn't get, though, is for days now, the stream of tweets, facebook statuses, and the like about how they don't care. Statements such as "I'm all out of dambs/f***s to give about the royals" and the like permeated my timeline(s). The only thought I could muster up in response, though, is "If you don't care, why must you keep saying it?"

Perhaps it's just me, but when I genuinely do not have an interest in something, I let it go. No talks, no tweets, no facebook statuses. In fact, if I'm really in an uncaring mood, I'll even log out of all of my social networks and do something that I take joy in, instead of bringing the gloom and doom in honor of showing my disdain for something.

Of course, there are the arguments of how the news coverage is extensive. My question to you: When has it not been for event like this? We bawled and hugged for our President's inauguration; we juked and slid all across the country, starting at the Apollo Theater, when MJ passed (during the five year interim between his passing and burial) ; and of course, whenever a former President passes away, the WHOLE WORLD STOPS to pay respects. What I see, however, is a lack of... I don't know what to call it. Tact? Tolerance? Give a care about something else that may or may not necessarily be in your bubble? Let's go with the last one.

I know it's hard to pretend as if we're happy for other people in the world, especially when regular news is going on all day, every day. What about the regular people getting married today, also? I wish them well, too. If I could Google them, I'd satisfy my curiosity in that area, also. You know what, though? We don't have their names. What we do have, however, is a bit of a distraction- a glimpse into a little bit of happy, in a world that continuously emits sad. For this, I'll take those few hours. Knowing that once it's all over and done, and the Duke and Duchess (among their other titles) kiss, I'll go back to my regularly scheduled life, and so will they. It's not idolatry or any other word you can think of-- just entertainment. An escape. Does it mean my heart is any less interested in the tragedies from the recent tornadoes, or the clusterfarce of mess going on with our President and the birthers, or the major marathon taking place through my city this evening? Not at all.

Truth, courtesy of @CheapSeatFan

Seriously, though? We're going to take the fun out of a traditional event, because other stuff is going on? I mean, whenever the Real Housebabymamas competing for the love of some b-list celebrity's facial secretions is on, people tune in like it's a life or death situation. Any time there's a football, soccer, hockey, or table tennis game, my timeline is filled with reactions. Do I care? Not really. Do I spend days echoing the statement? ...FUH WHAT?!

Anyway, I said all of that to say we get it. You don't care. You don't know them, you don't to, you'd rather watch Coming to America, sip Crown Royal, or extract your toe jam. On a scale of never to one, your level of uncaring is beyond the low point. I suppose it would be bad for me to say that I don't care that you don't care, then, eh?

*drops mic*

Congratulations Duke and Duchess. Or Earl and Lady. Or Baron or Baronness... whichever titles they prefer. I hope their marriage is full of love and all of that other stuff no one will get to see.
Have a good weekend. I'll be back with another minor annoyance next week.

Don't call it a comeback,
Beez (or, for the remainder of the day, the Duchess of Cornbread *adjusts monocle*)

Rebecca Black: Challenge Accepted.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 22:30:00 +0000

First of all, if you don't know anything about Rebecca Black, or the ear-slicing known as "Friday," I implore you to click here and here for my e-twin Cheekie's play-by-play, and IAmYourPeople's message to parents who put their kids through that hot bewl. When you're up to speed, come back, and I'll set the scene.

*looks at watch*
*does the chicken noodle soup*
*scratches nose*

Okay, you're back? Great! So, I was scrolling Tumblr the other night, when I saw a post titled Rebecca Black Challenge. It appeared that the challenge was to look at a YouTube video, which turned out to be a horrible dub of Black's "Friday," and see how long one could last without laughing. I saw comments of mostly people who couldn't last a minute, and I decided that this was a challenge best suited for my webcam. Taking a cue from ragetunes, I became the "Challenge Accepted" guy, and got geared up.

Below are my results. I didn't have a voice, but that didn't stop shenanigans from making its way in my life.

*sigh* The things I do for foolishness. Anyway, fair folks, have you ever seen or heard of Rebecca Black before now? Did you take the challenge? If so... how long did you fare?

Love you guys!

--Beez

Let's Rock the Red Pump- For Women Everywhere!

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 22:04:00 +0000

Today is National Women & Girls' HIV/AIDS Awareness Day (NWGHAAD, which I've decided to pronounce 'newguhaad'). There's a red banner in my sidebar, if you haven't noticed, that prompts one to "Rock the Red Pump" in honor of this day? This movement was created two years ago in order to keep awareness both relevant and stylish. Luvvie and Karyn have worked relentlessly to get the campaign rolling via The Red Pump Project, and I'm ecstatic to stay that there will be a record-breaking number of blogs (over 1,000) rocking red pumps in their sidebars, banners, and on their actual feet.

Why is awareness important, you say? Why do we rock red pumps, you ask? Well, let's look at some facts to find out.

People are having sex. Unprotected sex, even. Doing so without full knowledge of your partner's status opens you up to a whole world of risky behavior, which can be prevented.
HIV Every 9.5 minutes, someone tests positive for HIV in the US. Every 35 minutes, that someone is a woman.
Knowing your status (along with your partner's) can help prevent it from happening to you.
Talking about sex, protection, and diseases with your friends and loved ones can help keep them safe, also.

It's real, people. It's scary. We don't want you to be that person years down the line saying, "I didn't know" or "I didn't think it could happen to me." True enough, if you're having sex, it CAN happen to you, if you're not fully equipped with the knowledge to keep it from happening. I've read stories, seen countless presentations, and unfortunately, have even had a family member pass away from it. That is why these conversations must go on. Parents must talk to their children. Women, have these conversations with your friends, and your partners. Care enough to know. Know enough to care.

Rocking the red pump does not put you in a sacred position; in fact, I would daresay it makes one a bit more vulnerable. We don't shy away from talking about these issues; we want to remove the taboo. We're willing to talk, to equip you, to empower you with knowledge. We're willing to share our stories and testimonies in order to build you up. We're offering ourselves, and all that we have, to protect the future statuses of our friends and loved ones. Awareness is not only in style, but it is quite sexy.

If you need more information on where to find testing in your area, please click here. If you have any questions for me, leave an anonymous comment, or shoot me an email. If you're curious about the Red Pump Project, and the events going on to create awareness in your area.

Let's talk friends. Knowing is everything.
--Beez

(Sidenote: I'm ashamed to admit this, but upon scouring my closet, I realize I have not one pair of red shoes. In honor of the day, though, I have a red (faux) Snuggie that I will rock all the same, while waiting for the shoes to come.)

Snug Fierce

And then I hit my snuggie.

Fresh.

Beezy Needs a Brand New Bag.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 13:00:00 +0000

Hello. Fancy seeing me here. I'll spare the excuses, just know that isht has gotten real. And I'm dealing with it, much like the good Beez I am. But anyway, the title of the tale should clue you in a bit: I need a new all-purpose bag. I almost want to call the bag "Old Rusty," like my old apartment, but I fear that I have used all of my mileage with that term, so I'll just explain how Baggy Mack got into my life.

The backstory:
About 5 years ago, I was doing my normal perusing of the local Old Navy, probably for clearance tanks and performance fleece. In the clearance section, I found a black sling bag for 97 cents (sidenote to the sidenote: I find a lot of things at this particular Old Navy for 97 cents-- most recently, a DRESS. Yep, they'll forever have me as a customer.). I've never gotten into the habit of wearing purses, a fact that probably still makes Mama Beez want to disown me from time to time, but I figure I'll be a real grown up lady one day. It's a process. Seeing it as a basic black bag, no frills, plus the fact that I needed something more than a backpack to carry everyday, I took the offer.

Me and Baggy Mack hit it off immediately. I took him everywhere, save formal events. It was my explorer pack in foreign cities like Chicago, my resource bag when taking windy nature walks at home, and a few friends can even attest to my tendencies to keep a little of everything in him, including first- aid. Sure enough, I had a mom bag. My sister-in-law wondered about the whole lack of compartments, but I, not knowing much about bag-ness, decided I didn't need much, as long as I had Baggy Mack. Check out our journey below:

Me and some folks I'm related to. :) 2006

Another of my good friends. 2006

First straightening after growing a fro for 2 years- 2007.

My Chicago travel companion, 2010.

Holder of water bottles, cell phone chargers and extra batteries, iPods, books for long bus and train rides... I'm getting emotional. No Carl Thomas.

A sidekick even when my human sidekick is unavailable. Identity concealed b/c he didn't appreciate me letting him leave the house like that.

Some years down the line, I noticed a hole. That hole became a rip, which resonated in my heart. Was my beloved knapsack falling to pieces, and I didn't have a suitable replacement? I questioned how it could have happened: Did I let someone's baby carry it? I didn't get it caught in any rear bus doors since that one time! Does falling on a bag put stress on it? Sure enough, none of the things that were happening were my fault. Baggy Mack is just getting old. I even tried to ignore the telltale shoulder rash from me carrying it on the 'usual spot'-- the fact that I had a usual spot... Let's see:

The front. Even the zipper area and shoulder strap is getting frayed.


Is that a tear?


A rip on the side. Oh, my darling.


A sampling of my daily wares: hat, book, bandage, church handouts, kool-aid single, gum, 3 types of lip balm, notebook and pen...

With that said, I need a new bag. Perhaps it's time for me to transition into grown lady bags, but I don't have the knowledge or patience to scour through stores and websites. To me, THEY ALL LOOK THE SAME, and it's pretty confusing. Much like shoe shopping. I can probably take a needle and thread to Baggy Mack to prolong his eventual demise, but I feel like I should introduce a new sack to get the both of us acclimated in the meantime. So, friends, if you're willing to share and answer, I have a few questions:

What style of bag do you use for everyday carriage?
Do you have a variety of bags (purses, clutches, backpacks, etc.), or do you stick to the 'one bag fits all' philosophy like I have?
Do you know of a place (or website) where I can get one that will stand the test of time, like my dear Baggy Mack? Any preferred brands? (PS- I will accept hand-me-downs.)

Other than that, let's just say I'm back in business. Shoulder strain and all.

--Beez

PS- Check out the my verbose friend Naturally Alise's blog today. It features an exchange between the two of us about New Edition. For those who don't know who NE is, click this and this. Love youse!

(Let's Get) Physical: Products to Help Restore My Quality of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 14:00:00 +0000

Relax. Just do it. *mumble mumble* Get through it. Wait... what?

Hay, y'all. Hay.

Well, I've visited a doctor since I had a car accident about a week ago, and have realized my tendency to downplay my ailments and injuries probably isn't the best practice. I'm still having some strain in my back and shoulders, and while thugging it out has its strong points (because thugs don't take pills on a regular schedule!), I'll need more than the meds that I (am not really) taking to get back to that 98 1/2% that I'm usually in. For me, that means expanding my worlds to new horizons.

I've been prescribed physical therapy, and I start today. The doctor describes it as a way for me to rebuild my muscles and learn to strengthen and condition them ~~in case some other mess happens to me~~ for my general well-being, but I've always seen it as a place where folks get all into my nooks and crannies while throwing medicine balls at me. I've watched WAY too much television in my time, but y'all already knew that, right?At this point, I'm willing to try anything once, because these back cramps are not what's lukewarm in the boulevards. This brings me to the lesson of the day.

Until I'm back into the completely functional mess that I am, I'll need the help of a few products to get me there. As you all know from previous posts, I'm a huge infomercial head. In this time of, well, I don't know what to call everything that's been coursing through my head these days, but in order to lighten my mood, I've decided on some products that you may have seen on TV to get me through:

1-The Gopher:
First off, it's sold by Billy Mays. BILLY! MAYS! Based on the star power alone, I'd buy it. Although we miss him in the ad world (which I am not a part of), his memory lives on in spots such as this. Filled with gems such as "handy helper," "squeeze and retrieve," and "suction action," Mays lives up to the title I gave him as the "hardest working man in infomercials." Look at the Gopher in action: it can pick up a five pound can of sugar! Five pounds! I'd be able to do so much with that, without further inflaming my core. Plus, with my purchase I get another one, and a magna gopher! I'm in!
Sidenote: What's the extra one for? In case you drop your regular one? Gopher my Gopher, Gopher! Okay, I'm done. On to the next one.

2- The Ready Reacher
I often drop things I can't reach, voiceover lady. And, much like your (hopefully paid) actor, I will act like it's the end of the world, also! I've got some wallslides for such occasions, but as I probably should hold off on sliding all willy nilly, the Ready Reacher may be a likely alternative, if I can't get my three Gophers and a mule. Anthony Sullivan yells of the power of the "super sticky goo pad," a phrase that I can't mutter, yet alone yell, without giggling like a deranged kindergartener from Disney's "Recess." What this product has over the Gopher, I feel, is the stealth value. I won't have to bedazzle it like the Gopher to match all of my good outfits, and it's so tiny, I can slip it in my pocketbook until I'm good and darn ready to use it!

3- Easy Feet
One of the things I've been lamenting is how laborious it is for me to touch my toes. Before I try, I have to make a list of why I need to now as opposed to doing it later, and sometimes, I just send my toes a postcard that says, "hey, y'all. let's catch up sometime!" With Easy Feet, I can catch up with them WAY more often, bringing balance and harmony back to my body. On the outside, it looks like that foot thing that comes with the Body Snake, but as enthusiastic announcer lady says, it's SO much more! It cleans the top and bottom of feet, between your toes, and provides a rejuvenating massage. I believe in Easy Feet's power to change the way I bathe. The shot at the end, with the lady in the super luxe bubble bath, scrubbling away with her Easy Feet, may have given me an asmertack. Hey, body. Let's focus on one ailment at a time, please.

4- Pajama Jeans
This one's been making its rounds for a while, so I'll keep it short. I like comfort, but I also like to be ready to go at a moment's notice. With all of the pain and heartache that goes behind dressing once, belts, snaps, and all, I feel that pajama jeans are the most logical next step to alleviating it. They work on 4 out of 5 models (hey, isn't that like the dentist bit? What happened to the fifth person-- nutella?). I can wear them while using my Pedi Pistol and be fully enlightened as an infomercial extremist. Seriously speaking: comfy material + stylish exterior = happy Beez. It's not calculus.

Too bad I haven't seen a Skymall catalog lately. I'm sure I could build a house from the comfort of my couch with something outta that.

I've been mighty appreciative of all the love sent my way, and though I realize the seriousness of an injury like this, I need this space to shed by brand of optimism on an otherwise quite sucky experience altogether. Thanks for laughing with (and at) me and my shenanigans time and time again, and now the question:

If any of your body parts were out of commission, and you had limited usage, what products could you use to regain daily function?

Love y'all like Jamba Juice loves to smell like orange pith.

(not too hard--I'm sensitive!) Hugs and Sprinkles,
Beez

Turkey Day Survival

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 21:12:00 +0000

Get out the good china; it's a special occasion!

Turkeys, and cat-naps, and football – oh my! Where did the year go? It seems like just yesterday we were crowded around someone’s television watching the ball drop at Times Square, like we didn’t know it would take 3 hours for it to get all the way down. In a blink, spring, summer and fall passed us by, without even calling the morning after to see if we were okay. November is almost done, and through the icy rain (maybe just here), people are finalizing their Thanksgiving plans. Friends, the holiday season is fast approaching (Shoot, it’s HERE.), and I have been sent with gifts that aren’t gold teeth, frank and beans, and Maury in order to get you in tip-top shape:

1. Stay in your lane. Yes, I know it’s nice to try out new recipes every once in a while. I do it quite often myself. Those large family gatherings where mass amount of people are exposed to your science project is not the arena for it, though. If you’re unsure of what to bring to the 50^th office potluck this week, stick to what you know. If you tell a friend you’re bringing “Candied Ham Squares with White Chocolate,” those tears are not from excitement; it’s fear. Bring some sausages in a Crock-Pot with barbeque sauce, or if you’re really fancy, volunteer to bring chips, ice, or plates. Become friends with AllRecipes in your off-time, and subject those people you love (in small batches) to your trials.

2. Accept your family. Just do it, I said! When you think of “Thanksgiving,” you think of “family.” When you think of “family,” you shouldn’t be thinking of Olive Garden, because you’ll be gravely disappointed. I turned 25 this week, and it seems that almost instantly, the cries of “when are you getting married/ having kids/ gonna do something with your life besides get all these degrees?” have come like wildfire. Suck it up, come up with concise, stern answers, and grin and bear it. Change the subject if necessary. Compliment Aunt BeBe’s new red ‘do, even though you know it’s a wig. Ignore Uncle Junior’s new girlfriend, even though you went to high school with her. You can’t change them, so you may as well grin and bear it. Just be ready to mediate when the great spades battle of the 3:00 hour come up, and know how to bow out gracefully when it’s time. That brings me to the next point…

3. Have an exit strategy. Just because it’s the holiday does NOT mean you have to spend the whole day with the fam. It took me the longest to realize this evident truth, but c’mon. When you visit home for a limited amount of time, you end up with having to do rounds. Staying 18 hours at TeeTee May’s only cuts into the time you have to stop by all of your friends’ and their moms’ houses to collect a cavalcade of plates. How else are you supposed to sustain yourself through this 4 day weekend? Besides, Thanksgiving evening is the best time to catch a movie, go bowling, or host an impromptu Wii party featuring Michael Jackson: The Experience (oh, that’s just me? Well, you’re invited anyway.). While everyone’s hopped up on tryptophan, grab your security Gladware, pack up some of that dressing, and tiptoe out like a thief in the night, on the the next house.

4. Be careful what you post online. The saying is true: “If you tweet it, they will roast.” Wait… that isn’t it? Either way, it’s true. If your dishes make your mom/grandma/significant other smile and say “Baby it looks good… what is it?” you probably shouldn’t twitpic it to the world. If your variations on certain meals include altering the natural color the dish comes in, keep it in your house and off the tweets. It will be roasted until crispy, and you probably will lose a bit of your #SelfofSteam. Just ask the girl who is known as the creator of #ThatPlate (Note: Zindzi did not make said plate).

With that said, friends, I hope that you all are having a wonderful Thanksgiving. Eat, drink, and share in old traditions while making new ones. Take the time to recognize the things and people you are thankful for. I hope your day is as awesome as all of you are. Now pass the peas, like we used to do.

Love and turkey (or tofurkey) shaped sprinkles,

Beez

Beez Speaks- And For Good Reason

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Sat, 06 Nov 2010 22:43:00 +0000

Hey, y'all. I betchu think this post is about me. For once, I'm taking the shine off of my normal mode of shenanigans, catastrophes, and general unfortunate events, in favor of something more awesome.

Today, I would like to bring your attention to something I've (finally) found the words to get out. This is a big step for me, mostly because I'm vain and dislike the sound of my voice. I didn't rehearse this, and kind of spoke as it came from the heart. Then again, this cause is bigger than me. And you. Your mama, and your cousin, too. No Outkast, though. Anyway, I'll just cut to video, while you marvel at how I kinda look like the avatar in the upper right hand corner:

This is the challenge, wrapped conveniently as my birthday wish: I just want to encourage you all to do something, for someone, as this appropriately-dubbed "giving season" begins. The actions done from this point on could make the biggest difference in someone's life. One little action could make a tiny tot decide to be a world changer. It could be that little push that helps a person choose life over death. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, and most importantly, empowers others to do the same.

I want to make a way for people to actually share what they're doing. Short of creating another website (which, given my limited time and resources), I'm not really seeing how. Perhaps a hashtag on Twitter would work, but how long do those stay valid? I'm thinking out loud again... Let me stop and I'll work the details out as they may. Besides, the idea is to give.

I'll check in over the next two weeks to share some ideas, and hopefully hear from you about your ideas, actions, and ways you're changing the world around you.

Go time... is now. Let's Bee-Giving this season! I think the hashtag has been birthed: #BeeGiving. Nawl, you know what? I'll keep working on it.

Still Working Out The Kinks (and not just the ones in my hair),

Beez

PS- For the record, you can still send me birthday gifts. I'm versatile. :)

Tribute to the 90's: The Most Horribly Awesome Decade of All. (Part 3)

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 05:00:00 +0000

This one's pretty long, but stems from that SAME conversation... My goodness, we are pros at word/thought/idea association. We did reach an eye-opening revelation towards the end, though:

me: THIS.

Renisha: OH MAH GAH!!!

me: I used to love me some Kel Mitchell.

Renisha: is that who's rapping? i used to LOOOOVE me some ROMEO!

me: I couldn't mess with him and that eye. Much like Musiq soulchild.

Renisha: yes

me: My friend used to collect all them posters from Word Up! Magazine. And when she got over her obsession, she sold them for a quarter. When you consider how much that mag cost. she was BANKING on them posters

Renisha: why they got they shirts open with a shirt AND a jacket on? EL DEE BEE didn't get NO camera time

me: immature stayed dressing like some rebellious vagabonds. i used to forget el dee bee was part of the group

Renisha: they liked plaid

me: i feel like he was the 'spare bish' of the group, only to make a batman/romeo duo less awkward. he ain't get no solos or NUFFIN.

Renisha: NOTHIN!  not a rap or NO-THING!

me: he didn't even get to DRUM! useless a*s name they gave him

Renisha: RIGHT!

me: they flooding HOARD dinner mug in this video! with no socks!!  LMAOOOOO

Renisha: CHILE!

me: I forgot this was when Romeo had that unfortunate perm. hurr just swanging

Renisha: and then the little dance breakdown they got on them WHITE socks

me: DEEZ NINJAS ON SOME MEN IN BLACK ISH!!

Renisha: chile....  YUP!

me: i. am. dying.  Kel... swoon

Renisha: i can't take this any longer omg...my side hurts!

me: I'm burning calories i ain't even put in. now on to we got it: we don't know what they got, doe.  peek a boo v-necks. i cannot

Renisha: chile...   these dance moves

me: how the band know the sheet music, doe?
i never understood that in any video?  you just show up relatively unknown, yet the band just knows what song you gon' wanna sing?

Renisha: these outfits chile...  YELLOW PANTS THO!?

me: i can't with this MC lyte doppelganger… then the whole nursing home erupts in dance? o_O

Renisha: i am CRACKIN up!

me: it's like this scene from good burger:

how they just all know the moves?

Renisha: RIGHT!!!!

me:

I'm so mad at the uploaders comment on this. The other comments, too! LMAOOOOOO!! **note, comments were found on the video posted here, but they didn't wanna let me embed, so... *shrug* **

Renisha: h*ll nawl!

me: "Romeo had a d*mn bob"

Renisha: WHAT THEEE H*LL IS ROMEO SAYIN!???? HE DID #DOE!

me: Romeo was a real life Mushmouth from Fat Albert

Renisha: ERICA!!! I can barely type right now… how in ALL HELL did we like this??

me: LAWD!! I just... don 't know...  We were seriously misguided as youths. El Dee Bee was looking all malnourished about the head.   I'm gonna take a guess and say his perm didn't take all the way

Renisha: RIGHT!!! so they just shaved his stuff off.   ROMEO ain't make NO SENSE during that verse.  i can't understand a word he is sayin

me: They didn't stick no lacefront or anything on him!

Renisha: AT ALL

me: Just pushed him out there... "there ya go, baldy. Homies over h*es." The song doesn't make much sense.   I just... don't know what I"m grooving for. They stayed on somebody's rooftop dancing though

Renisha: HOW...Erica? HOOOOWWW did we like this stuff?!!! this is TERRIBLE

me: Terribly horrible

Renisha: they couldn't SING!  no vocal skills at ALL!

me: And they weren't even THAT CUTE!   They were boys with press n curls! and sunglasses!

Renisha: NOT CUTE AT ALL!!!

me: like some project Beatles.

Renisha: but LOVED me some Romeo

me: And did anybody understand the reason behind the name change?

Renisha: they changed it to 'Mature' right? or wait...  IMX or somethin like that…   DMX?

me: "Mature," Renisha? death

Renisha: chile...i dunno

With that said, the 90's were indeed horribly awesome. Between subpar singing, oversized primary colored clothing, and El Dee Bee's hatless head, these are the memories my youth is comprised of. This series... just might have to continue, though.

Love and Rooftop Dances,

Beez

Tribute to the 90's: The Most Horribly Awesome Decade of All. (Part 2)

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 05:00:00 +0000

Part 2 on me and Renisha's look back into the 90's. Part 1 can be found here.

Renisha: crackin UP!
remember when they got a new girl - NOT michelle

me: Yep... she lasted the duration of that video shoot. po' thang

Renisha: a week! LOL!

me: did she get pregnant and voted off the island or something?

Renisha: chile...i don't even remember. what was her name?

me: shoot... ahownno. spare bish?

Renisha: WeNeed AnotherChick

me: kelly and this gahtdamb blue hair. marge simpson swag

Renisha: LOL!

me: they thought they was hitting that plie at the end too... what the heck was that?!

Renisha: LOL!!!

me: michelle had on her "Lawd, don't let me fall to the wayside and have to go back to the welfare" face. spare bish on the other side had her 'shank beyonce face"
high waisted pants + midriff baring shirts = fail

Renisha: LMBOOO!!!!

Tribute to the 90's: The Most Horribly Awesome Decade of All. (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 06:16:00 +0000

Friends,

Let me just start off by saying this: If you didn't grow up in or around the 90's, you pretty much ain't nothing. Millenials, you just missed out on everything that made the world turn: Nick, Snick, cheesy sitcoms with recycled characters, commercials that were relevant to the product being sold, REAL cartoons still in circulation... man, I could just go on and on, but the retrospective is bringing tears to my eyes. This all began with an epic gchat conversation between myself and Renisha, and oh my gosh, we just got to ~~remmin... remun...~~ thinking about old stuff. We begin with this gem:

Renisha: Why am i laughin SO HARD at this video? look at their clothes!

me: lawd!!! how they change clothes mid chorus?

Renisha: i am CRYIN laughin right now LOL!

me: That bald dude with the glasses...

Renisha: LMBO! you see Immature in the video???

me: weighmint. DID I SEE IMMATURE?!! I was JUST about to say that!

Renisha:OMG!!!! This is tumblr worthy! gon' head and post it

me: MUHFUGGIN BATMEHN. ROWMEYOW AND EL DEE BEE

me: LeToya and her thoia thoing dress on. I just can... and can't with the 90's. all at once.

Renisha: Kelly ain't have NO BOOTEE!NONE!

me: Not n'aan aat all

Renisha: in them pleather pants! iCan't!

me: was immature even old enough to be in the club just chillin like that?

Renisha: Was Destiny's child!? shooo

me: random lone couple grinding in the dark hallway = death

Renisha:i am SO TICKLED right now My eyes are watering SO BAD, tryin not to laugh outloud in this starbucks

me: I would have failed.

Renisha:i'm sweatin

me: Sometimes when the cackle comes thoo, you just gotta let it out

Renisha: watches it again

me: AAHHHH!! YOUSE A MESS!! LMAOII AWJ EWLKA BWTF BBQ!~

Renisha:why was latoya grindin on the wall by herself tho? and them brown knickerbockers that other chick was wearin? LAWD!! iCan't!

me: Everything was right and wrong at the same time We watching the video saying no, no, no, no, no. But we saying yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, too.

Renisha: OMG...HUH-LARIOUS!

me: Why didn't nobody say "go home, roger!" though? NOBODY in that club took advantage of that golden opportunity?

Renisha:nope...

they all had on the same colored lipstick #makeupartistfail

look at BeNONCE's shoes?

me: and that dreadful lipliner

That was the era of "black girls lining their lips in black no matter what the occasion, season, or coordinating colors were."

Renisha: RIGHT!!!

wedding = black lipliner

homecoming = black lipliner

me: funeral = black lipliner

birthday party = black lipliner

fashion shows= all black lipliner errthang

Renisha: going to class in college = black lipliner

me: nobody had sassy gay friends in the 90's. i'm convinced

and that clear sticky gloss from the beauty supply, so yo' whole lip was just grey and ashen.

Renisha: with the white stuff in corners

me: ughhh!! yes!!

We reviewed about 3 videos for this... and I think they will be separate posts. :)

What are some of your favorite memories from the 90's?

Hugs and Cross Colored Sprinkles,
Beez

ASOS, Yuh Dun Goofed.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 15:09:00 +0000

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you. At least I've got a story to tell, boo. And boy, is it a doozy:

Backstory:

For those unfamiliar with my life, I've been EXTREMELY tired lately. I have, however, still been blogging a bit. Perhaps Tumbl-ing is a better verb, but I have been into some sort of activity. Anyway, my tumblr is mainly focused on my journey to girliness, where I take pictures of myself in dresses and stuff, gauge opinions on hair and makeup, and learn how to be more girly. In conversations and through some of my Twitter connections, I learned about a company that had gotten rave reviews about the style, fit, and even delivery. I was determined to learn more about this company.

After working for a bit, perhaps after my second paycheck, I registered with ASOS, and got to shopping. I was excited about my first spree- there were dresses, skirts, and a couple of tops. I won't mention the amount spent, because frankly, that matters not. Placed my order on the 17th, and it shipped by the 19th. Their shipping schedule says 8 "working days," but as the patient princess I am, I gave it until the end of the month. I made up excuses for them, thinking it could have been held up by customs, they couldn't find me in the cornfields, or something. Either way, I penned a query to Customer Care, and recieved this response, after the canned response of "we have your question, now wait for an actual person to reply (click to make these bigger) :"

I decided to give them the benefit of a doubt (figuring Royal Mail must be as much of a pain as the USPS can be sometimes- see my last angry letter), and wait those extra days, even though my sh*t "should of" arrived by the 29th. On the day before, October 10th, I sent another email. It was a Sunday, and I was about sure the parcel wasn't arriving. After the obligatory canned response, I got this:

I waited 24 hours, pretty much RIGHT after the clock struck 12 on the 12th to pen a new one, simply asking for what they would do next. Patience would win out, right? So, of course, I got the canned response, then this:

Aw... HAYLE NAWL!! I waited damb near a month to receive this package, and all you can say is "welp, here's your money back?" Not even an offer to resend what I ordered in the first place, perhaps express shipping? Something to make me think you give a sh*t about keeping my money hostage for so long? I was trying to give them a chance, but this is not the way to do it. I stressed the fact that this was my FIRST ORDER for a reason- your first impression of a company is one that lasts. In the case of ASOS, this one burns, and not in that pleasant way they depict in contraceptive commercials. I wrote this in response:

I took to Twitter too. ASOS apparently searches its name, and I was ambushed by their "Here To Help" account, armed with smiley faces... I'll just let you see their responses to me, and I'll post my response to them (at this point, I was sufficiently pissed, and wanted nothing more but to speak with a person). Read down to up, as Twitter be backwards:

In the meantime, they provided me with this "generous offer," via e-mail:

Ten. Frickin. Puhsents. Is that enough, friends? I don't think so. A simple Google search leads me to a bajillionty ten percent offer codes. I'd rather have talked to a live person than a crappy email exchange over the course of several days, too. My excitement turned from disappointment to full-on-pisstivity during the duration of this experience, and I am making good on my promise to let the world know. Simply put, ASOS, Yuh Dun Goofed. I can't and I won't put my funds into a company that doesn't even CARE about how customers are treated. It's such a sad day when you can't even get excited about the things others love, but this one experience has been... well, exquisitely torturous hell. I promise, I am waiting for that refund, and it better be correct down to the LAST penny. You lost a customer before you even had a chance to wow me with your stylistic offerings, at least I could have had a chance to try on a dress before I decided I hated you.

Shoutout to that package that's probably floating in the ocean, chilling and stuff.

What I want to know, friends, is have you ever experienced crappy customer service, even in the face of unshakable patience? What did you do? How was it resolved? Should I give ASOS another chance to wow me with this measly ten percent?

Lawd, I'm pissed. Fawk a sprinkle. This is some bull-shiggity.

--Beez

Amerie: The Glass Case of FAIL Entraps Her.

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 17:39:00 +0000

Prequel: It was about 2003. I was (still) in high school, and found the most awesome hair dresser ever. She gave me free stuff all the time, and I had started to become addicted to shampoo head massages. It always smelled good, and was quiet due to her operating solely and having the sense to not double-book folks and keep you in there all day. Her shop became a place of refuge for me. The place even had a soundtrack: wafting softly through the speakers was this relaxed voice. I had to find out who she was...

She was going places, yo.

Enter Amerie Mi Marie Rogers, a gorgeous young lady who I thought (at the time) would be going places, especially considering the appeal the record "All I Have" had. I STILL play that record. I figured she could hop on the train with Jill Scott 'nem, and we'd have another soul girl that would eventually come into her own.

Too bad optimism said, "NAWL, girl!" and proceeded to push, not shove, her into the glass case of FAIL that currently surrounds her. Everything she's laid her hand to has failed, at least in the music sense. I'm sure she has a healthy marriage and relationship with her children, and who wouldn't, when your album sales are going Styrofoam cup? Let's discuss her journey into the never ending spiral of FAIL.

Touch: The 2005 album that gave us her "new image," this whole good girl playing bad girl dress up shtick, which only worked for Rihanna. Started out with the single "1 Thing," which annoyed me to no end with that whole "NOMMA NOMMA NOM- OH!" chant in the background, and was just all kinds of high-pitched and squealy. Then she released that bore of a song, "Touch." I don't even have the energy to critique that without my eyelids drooping over.

That European Album from 2007: Actually, I don't have anything to say about that... By this time, I had given up all hope of her giving me what made me a fan in the first place. It was almost like an amicable breakup: I wish you well, but I'm not really checkin' for you no more.

Adding that Wretched Second 'I' To Her Name: What does it mean? What is its purpose? Twitter was a-buzz with their musings behind the meaning (irrelevant, ignorant, identity crisis... and the list goes on), while all I could do was shake my head... Speaking of heads, that leads me to her next stunt:

THIS:

WHAT?! I'da just told them I got attacked by a Clorox-wielding toddler.

In an interview given to Rap-Up magazine (insert photo credit here), she states her inspiration for this... well, I don't know what to call it:

“One of the things that inspired me are photos I’ve seen of children in the Solomon Islands. They are very brown-skinned, and a lot of them grow white-blonde hair naturally. The contrast in dark skin tone and extremely light hair is really beautiful to me. So I just went for it!”

Uh... Amii? Sweetie? Children can pull that look off, because their faces filled with joy, love, and mass amounts of sugar carry them. You, however, should have not passed go, and given the hairstylist the $200 to fry, dye, and blow dry your mane into what I believe will be a crumbly disaster by November. I don't see the contrast in her features anymore! She was gorgeous to begin with... why she keep doing stuff like this?

I believe she needs to consult with a counselor, or at the very least, her Sassy Gay Friend. The glass case of FAIL has locked her up, and won't let her out. Somebody's got to free her. I say this out of love.

Let's discuss: Any other people you know of that spiral endlessly into the realm of FAIL, and seemingly don't want help?

Love and (appropriately colored) Sprinkles,
Beez

Wait A Minute, Mister Postman. I Think You Forgot Something...

noreply@blogger.com (Beez) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 16:41:00 +0000

Hello, Friends.

Have you ever had a day that was pretty much normal until... the end? That happened to me the other day. I realized sometime last week that one of my Netflix rentals (The Proposal with ~~Sandra Bullock~~ Betty White) had not come. I figured the problem was with Netflix, so I reported that I hadn't received it, got a new one sent the next day, done. AFTER I had watched the video in question and was ready to send it back, I receive a little tidbit in the mail from our lovely US Postal Service:


They cared... enough to not send my vidjo.

This, my friends... has never happened in the 24 years, 10 months, and how many ever odd days I have been alive on this fair planet. Never. Of course, my first thought is "why are they sending me the flap with my address on it, sans video?" Better yet, WHY did they deem it was necessary to send me the Ziplock bag equivalent of a Chris Brown apology bow tie? Seriously, I need to know what the point of it all was.

In the middle of my random outrage, I penned this letter, FROM MY PHONE, and uploaded it to Tumblr. I was mad, yo. Real mad. Shar Jackson.
__________________________________________________

Dear Postmaster: I sincerely regret that my mail was damaged due to a disgruntled Postal Worker. This incident inconvenienced me greatly, because I had to wait DAYS to see The Proposal, starring Sandra Bullock and that douchy guy featuring Betty White. BETTY WHITE, dambit! I expected my mail not only to be delivered in good condition, but also timely. You screwed not only me, but Netflix, by making them look bad.

I understand that mail is frequently damaged because your basement trolls like to rifle through the good stuff before it’s actually distributed. That’s why my mama can’t send me no Florida mangoes no more, ya bastids.

I completely understand. You’re in the middle of training a new fleet of uniformed dummies, so you sent this piece of a Netflix envelope with my name and address in a Ziplock bag in order to say, “Welp, we tried.” Luckily, Netflix sent the video 4 days ago, and I got my Betty White fix.

I’m sure you’ll screw up again, so as far as accepting your apology, I’d rather not waste that breath of air when you’ll put my electric bill in the neighbor’s box tomorrow. F your existence.

Love,
Beez.

I may have been a bit harsh, but... does this happen in real life, or just to me? Should I continue to write letters for the healing and to get things done? Has any kind of random mailing mishaps come your way? If so, share... I bet this wouldn't have happened if I was in the suburbs.

Switching to FedEx for Sprinkle Deliveries,
Beez