EarthWindFire82 of Memphis

Battling Together Alone

2018-08-29T06:05:00.001-05:00

*She took a deep breath and looked in the mirror again. Her shape was amazing, but she kept mentally removing the loose skin...again. She's nailed the selfie angles and her most recent makeup work is her best yet. She washes it all off and gets in bed to tell her friends she can't make it because her kids are sick.

*He's a handsome black man with so much to offer the world. Pretty sure he's someone's #MCM. Tall, brilliant, clean cut. Great son. Even better dad. He lays in his bachelor pad and cries. He wants to end it, but worries about the aftermath. He wants to tall about it, but worries about the aftermath.

*Relationship goals, meme-worthy married couple madly in love. Girls are texting their friends saying they want a love like theirs. He worships the ground she walks on. She glows from his love. They're doing the "right thing" and getting themselves together before becoming parents. If only people knew her body was why they weren't parents yet. She's debating a divorce so he has a chance at fatherhood. He wants to be a dad, but doesn't want to pressure her further.

Everyone knows someone like these people. Except for the very first person, I just winged those stories.

I'm the first one.

Every squad has a collection of secret fights and hidden sadness. Funny how the more commonly shared stories in the crew are about previous misadventures, oh and the one about the crazy ex.

But does anyone ever say "y'all, I feel so empty inside" or fear being a Debbie Downer?

When a person says that he or she is depressed, how seriously do we take it? Does it depend on the person?

I never knew how depression crept up into our lives, especially as a COGIC Born black kid from Memphis. It was seen as a spirit that could be cast out. I mean, a little blessed oil and a quick faint...BOOM!

DELIVERT!

But when Pastor Drew passed away after succumbing to injuries sustained from a suicide attempt, people got back to talking about depression. All of the pics people posted were smiling, jovial Drew.

Just like my decades long string of selfies...dimples, teeth, smiles and pain.

Depression is a disease. To me, it's as bad as diabetes, or hypertension. You see, it's expected that one takes meds to manage your physical conditions. Oh, but when I told fokes about Zoloft...

"Why?"

"You don't need that."

"Just change your diet!"

I don't get mad. I shrug it off as lack of knowledge. After all, nobody knew behind makeup, memes and music that I was crumbling into pieces.

So I challenge you today to do at least one of the following:

1. If you're depressed, write down your feels. Even if it's a line or two. Tell that journal what you're not comfortable sharing.

2. Be someone's safe place. Don't play runteldat with what has been shared. Breaking a depressed person's trust can be dangerous.

3. Check on your pastor/preacher friends. As much as I shade them, they are people who can break. They can readily quote scriptures but may hesitate saying "I'm hurting".

4. If you haven't talked to someone in a while, hit them up. A 30-60 second call or two line text will do wonders for a low spirit.

Look, depression is so much beyond a bad day or rough patch. It's your brain attacking you from within. Check your resources and services for mental health centerd. Form a "Check-Up Chain" with friends and fam you know going through.

Let's break the loneliness that depression brings. Don't let another soul lose a fight to the darkness.

All it took was makeup...

2018-05-03T22:41:00.004-05:00

For aboot 8 months now, I've been playing in makeup. Yes, my tomboyish, awkward, blind as a bat ass has become a practitioner of the makeups.

Why?

Always have loved makeup. I just let my low self esteem and frustration convince me that was yet another of my "Bitch, you can't.." list entries..after doing a second 5k but just before sewing.

"It isn't for me" was what I told myself for years. I broke bad every blue moon, but it wasn't until my 30th birthday party that I saw the truth.

Truth be told, it CAN be for you simply because you want it.

Okay, I bet you're wondering "heffa, you damn near 36 now. What the hell happened in that gap?"

Glad you asked.

I forgot.

But what matters NOW is that I'm not ascared. Stay with me, now.

Thing is, it took makeup for me to finally get through my thick gauge skull that in order for this makeup to look beautiful on me, my black ass just might have to be beautiful.

I know good and hell well I don't need it. However, every single part of my process allows me a moment to reflect on what it is that I have.

Sometimes, I just stare in the mirror, completely in awe at how long I hid myself. It's like the Tam in my head finally sees the truth. Each selfie is another entry into my archive, documenting my evolution.

Months ago, my pics were mostly from the neck up. Only from a limited choice of carefully selected angles. A couple years ago, you may get a couple shots out of hundreds taken at an event. I blamed my weight for years, even holding on to it as I dropped over 100 pounds.

Tam, you running out of excuses. What's the next one? You look too much like your daddy?

I regret to inform thee, you still look like Anthony Edward.

Last summer, I took my first few pics in eyeliner during my 35th birthday weekend in Nashvegas.

I didn't even die once.

Mah fact, it was a welcome change to see me a bit more glam than my normal Functional Cat Raggedy.

Then it snowballed from there. I began to look forward to my practice pics. Even my errors were funny. Especially that glitter debacle when my ass looked like I got whooped with a whole unicorn.

Then it hit me...I was still alive. I was over here serving looks with full Gizmo Realness!

Biiiiiiiiiiiish yes!

After all these years of selling myself shawter than a Family Dollar cash register, I finally felt confident.

The gag is..foke think makeup is a sign of low self esteem. But for me, it's an accessory. It varies based on my mood and ensemble. I don't wear it to BE anyone. I wear it because I can.

I can say that it made me appreciate every nuance of who I am and how I look.

I know, I know. It shouldn't have taken two Rubbermaid containers of makeup to make me feel good about myself. I concur, mane.

My therapist encouraged me to get back to focusing on myself. Take care of Tam in between working and caring for everyone else. So I resurrected my journal, my good reading materials, and through those measures, I realized that I need to invest in Tam as much as I do everyone else.

When I put on them good ol' brows and transform, it's as personal as I can get. I'm looking at myself and falling more in love with who I am.

It's about time.

I'm fine as frog hair.

Next up...photoshoots and hopefully some saptapper putting me in a magazine or something.

Like...a mainstream one.

Not Hustler.

I'm good on that.

-Tam

A Woman's Worth...aka-More Than $500k, But Not Quite $9.99

2018-01-21T13:41:00.002-06:00

Aight Delegation, I won't be before you long because I got to finish clipping my coupons.

Mo'nique asked us to boycott Netflix because of the diabolically lowballed offer she received of $500,000. Of course, the memes just made themselves!

Personally, I don't think she should take that low level offer. She was WELL within her right to be like "hell no". I've seen a many people say she should've accepted the offer and proved Netflix to be a fool.

To THAT, Tam says "no".

Regardless of your feels about her, I'm sick of black women having to take a low offer to be accepted, then "prove them wrong". Why the hell can't they just see our worth and govern yoself accordingly?

I've read that Netflix paid Amy Schumer more because of her call out about Dave Chappelle and Chris Rock. I mean, we know Amy Schumer is as funny as chipped toenail polish, alas she is controversial...which is how she most likely got what she got.

Right now, #TimesUp is heavily trending, citing examples in which women are grossly underpaid. Hell, Michelle Williams got a g-ball for movie reshoots that earned Mark Wahlberg a million plus. Tracee Ellis Ross is renegotiating for "black-ish" like she hasn't been a vital part of the show's success. Thus, Mo'nique is another unfortunate example of the inequality in the industry.

So why aren't we tooted up as tough?

Thing is...we ARE behind her. We know good and hell well she's worth more than half a million damn dollars. Of course, the lack of mass Netflix cancellations has people thinking we aren't supporting her.

Truth be told, she has been steadily working for some time, and is an Academy Award Winning actress. That's not small potatoes by far. I personally think she should get at least $5-10mil.

But the reality of how mainstream (white) media deals with women of color is painfully evident in this situation. Playing all the spots, doing a Periscope show (that I didn't even know aboot til my friend told me), and having "Blackbird" under her belt doesn't register as being a big deal to the brass.

The hustler in me wants to say "film your own shit and self promote. Make ALL the profit!" But damn, why should someone as established as Mo have to go back to the early No Limit Records days?

She has every right to speak up, and no she shouldn't settle for less. I think it's time to put her foot down and demand better. Fokes are saying "everytime I see her, she complaining about something". Even I'm guilty of that thought. But being in a situation where I'm making substantially less than I'm worth makes me wish I had the balls to speak up. SOMEBODY got to get their hands dirty, but it looks like that is costing her dearly.

Time to get a whole damn manager and go for the gusto. Hell, maybe it's time to walk up in someone's office with a full on "DON'T FUCK WITH ME FELLAS!"

Hell.

p.s. - it isn't misogynoir to disagree with her if you do. Don't shut down people for discussing the complexity of this saga. As long as their disagreement isn't rooted in hatred of her beautiful black womanly existence, it's all gravy.

Aziz Ansari, the Necessary Discussion Nobody Wants to Have

2018-01-14T15:36:00.001-06:00

As usual, Delegation, another turd hath hit the oscillating fan.

Read up if you haven't already.

Go ahead...I'll wait.

Now, you're probably thinking the same thing I did. You probably called him trash or were let down by finding out a good guy is a violator. Even if you didn't, Twitter has done it for you.

After reading the account from the woman involved on Babe.net, I really had to examine some thoughts on this. I mean, reeeeeeeaaaaally get off Twittah and read her account over and over again. It was when I came to the perspective that this was moreso an awkward encounter than flatfoot rape.

I was embarrassed to admit that because in the era of #MeToo (thank you Tawana), one that I'm unfortunately a member of my damn self, it seemed as if I was NOT in support of a woman. I mean, that's deadass tantamount to TREASON in this motherfucker!!!

Thing is, I shole the hell ain't on Aziz's side. Aside from giving me the magnanimous Lena Waithe, his existence isn't of any significance to me. I just think this is one of those much needed discussions that foke scared to have.

Anytime we question any aspect of a woman's account, we become victim blamers/shamers, and are villainized immediately. Now, I'm aware of how our coming forth can be dictated by a number of factors. I never wanted to admit certain things about my #MeToo because one man in my story is damn DEAD, another seems to be popular in my city, and another is a saptapper from my JSU era.

Surprise, that's the real reason I transferred from down there.

Only in therapy and years of journaling do I have a clear perspective on my past incidents. It's affected my self esteem. It affected my desire to have healthy relationships.

(Tam is crying, y'all.)

AIGHT! I'm good...but yes, now you see why sexual assault is a serious matter in my realm? It's not just some topic I talk about because Alyssa Milano and Rose McGowan blew it up. It affects me personally.

That personal connection is why people quickly attack when victims aren't immediately ready to burn a mofo's house down. It was why some wayward pussy hat called herself going in on me about my support of Brian Banks.

It didn't work, tho. *sips tea*

But we as women owe it to ourselves as victims to address the good, bad, ugly, gray, black AND white of sexual assault. It's not playing Devil's Advocate to talk about the instances where a woman is right in feeling violated, even if the man is not a rapist. We are allowed to address how awkward, uncomfortable sexual situations are the result of rape culture even if the woman wasn't raped. Telling women to speak up during sex isn't placing blame on her. It's a learning experience for us all.

In my situation with the popular guy, I remembered him feeling up on me like he hadn't had a woman since King got killed. I mean, I knew what we were going to do, and I was cool with it. He was aggressive, and I felt like he was pretty much using me to get his nut. I gained NOTHING from that buttery bullshit beyond a need for a lonnnng ass shower. Had I been more comfortable sexually, I would've been able to say "bruh, if you don't stop gnawing on my titty" and ended it had he not obliged. I learned from that day forth, no saptapper is using me as a breathing nut rag.

Sorry. That was how I felt.

I didn't talk to him again after that "Waiting to Exhale" ass debacle. I see him on Facebook often and laugh. Ol' growling ass nigga.

I don't discount that incident, as it was very formative for me. I just know it wasn't sexual assault. It was a consensual, bullshit ass, sexual encounter.

Funny how my actual rapist was much gentler.

The guy liked me. A lot. He had me by about 20 years, and it was funny to me how he made me feel like I was the most beautiful broad in Shelby County. He offered to bring me lunch one day, so being 22, broke, and at the height of my missing damns, I said yes to the free food.

We sat on the couch and talked about my love of all things Earth Wind & Fire. He joked about my giant poster of The Mack. I told him Willie Dynamite was cooler. He told me I should've been his woman. I thanked him for the yardbird. He played in my hair. I asked for a beer. He kissed me. I pulled away. He told me "I heard you loved kissing, why are you pulling back?" I felt guilty because that was a conversation I had at work in Heavyweight with my squad. I didn't even think he heard me.

He did hear me.

I was shocked as I sat there and let him replay that damn conversation to shame me into giving in. This motherfucker even remembered my friend replying to me.

"You told [name redacted] that men don't pay attention to you. I did. I noticed everything. I never ignored you. I know about everything."

He gently kissed my neck and whispered all the things I never told him personally. All I kept thinking was "he's doing everything I ever wanted. Why am I crying?"

When he got on me, I told him to stop.

He didn't.

I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I laid there and let my thoughts and his words shame me. I was angry. I knew nobody would be on my side. I knew dude liked me. I used this mane for free food. He did everything I told my friend I wished a guy would do.

I told him to stop again.

He didn't. Besides, as he said, I was his dream come true.

Only after realizing I hadn't made a peep after the last "no", did he stop.

Crazy how that went.

Seeing him at work after that was hard. Gave me the motivation to transfer out the whole damn Hub.

I found out he was dead some weeks ago. Shiiiid, I didn't know how to feel. I couldn't even bring myself to tell my friend that dude was my rapist. We joked about him, then I changed the subject.

Reading all of the stories have made me think about how hard it really is for victims to come forth. That's why I don't want to EVER make a woman regret coming forward. Every story is a catalyst for change. All of these men are part of rape culture, whether they rape or not. The fact women have to fear speaking up is the result of men who have killed women for turning them down. Hell, imagine if the first guy felt emasculated by me saying "not so hard". Nobody knew I was at his house.

I could've been killed for demanding pleasure.

So yes, we have to talk about it all. Change doesn't come from us addressing the clear cut rapes. We aren't victim blaming when we ask questions.

All we're doing is the dirty work necessary to make sure no other woman has to say "me too" or die because of saying what she wants.

I'm out.

Ginuwine: Transphobic or Nawl

2018-01-09T20:48:00.001-06:00

So this is what happened:

(Article can be found heah)

Now, as always, there is a rift as to whether Brother Lumpkin was transphobic nor nawl.

Tam's verdict is: Nawl.

From the info that I've uncovered on the situation, I didn't catch a vibe of Ginny-Poo being transphobic. If anything, I look at girlfriend sideways and wonder if she is aware of consent and how putting foke on blast isn't fair.

I'm very pro-LGBTQA without hesitation, and I've heard so many transwomen tell how hard dating is for them. As a cisgendered woman, I cannot conjure up any parallel stories. All I know is what I've seen and been told.

This can be a very prickly topic, and it always, ALWAYS goes downhill. Instead of it being a discussion of preference, it turns into name-calling, transphobia, Bible Thumpage, and a whole lot more shit than necessary.

Now...to me, a transwoman is a woman. How she was born isn't of importance to me. I'm aware that people will disagree with me. I don't believe that fragile masculinity is why a cisgendered man wouldn't want to date a transwoman.

(I do believe it's fragile masculinity that makes some men protest too damn hard against it, but that's another damn blog).

Though she is a woman, there is one thing I believe that some men may find problematic, and that lies with the ability to give birth. I know a few cis women who have had relationships end because of fertility issues, so it's no shade.

Beyond that...I cannot see any other major issue beyond that of "what would people think". As I've stated a many times, the unfortunate murders of transwomen over the years is NOT due to her status. It's due to the fragile male who is afraid that people will think he's gay because his girlfriend was born male.

Transpeople are not the frauds you'd like to think they are. Many of them are quite forthcoming despite the fact that I don't think it's up for public consumption. Again, it's MY opinion as an outsider looking in.

To return to the situation at hand with Brother Baylor Lumpkin, I hate that this heffa took it upon herself to put him on the spot. You cannot, I repeat CANNOT ask someone such a heavy question and expect an immediate response. You damn sure can't sprang up talmbout "gimme a kiss" and shit.

Let's turn the tables a tad.

Transman asks a cis female celeb if she'd date a transman. She says "no" but dude tries to steal a kiss. I bet you $5 in nickels it would be smoke in the city!

People don't realize how heavy of a question that is to ask of a cisgendered human being. Even I, as a very open-minded human, would have to take a moment to ponder. If I were childless, but wanted to become a mom, I would have to accept that my man could not knock me up the good ol' fashioned way! That's an aspect I'd have to ponder upon with a cis male who is sterile. If you put me on the spot, I can't say how I would respond.

I'm married with two kids, yet no longer able to birth babies. If I were single and back in the dating game, a mane who wanted kids wouldn't want me. And guess what? It's only fair.

So yes, while I don't like how things went down, I don't think this situation makes Ginuwine a transphobic, fragile ego having ass mane.

If anything, I think this situation reveals more about the men I know than the man on TV.

The question is actually quite simple to answer, guys: yes or no.

But who are me to judge?

Bitterness, aka - Pull Up With a Lemon

2018-01-09T20:19:00.003-06:00

When you think of someone being bitter, what comes to mind?

Go ahead..think aboot it whilst I reopen my fridge in hopes of food magically appearing.

WELP, what you come up with?

*That angry baby mama?

*The uncle who ain't been shit since Vietnam?

*Your best friend who shoulda played them numbers?

Betcha didn't think of a positive example of bitterness, did you?

Maybe because like selfishness, anger, jealousy, and some other words I'll conjure up after I hit "submit", bitterness has a negative connotation.

Because my ass has a point to prove, I Googled the word.

And because my ass is lazy, I did it on my phone.

Look at definition number two:

"Anger and disappointment at being treated unfairly".

As a WHOLE black woman in Trump-Ass America, I'm reminded DAILY of reasons to be bitter.

One reason I have is best explained on a YouTube video of me talking aboot the "Opioid Crisis.

Shiiid, I'm bitter aboot being broke, injured, disabled, highly educated yet lowly paid, living in a state in which weed is YET illegal, my daughter's biopappy being Father of the Year with 75% of his kids (she's the 25% coming up shawt), etcetera and what not.

Now...you're prolly like "what you gon' do about it?"

Well, I'm going to go to sleep, which is how I always solve problems.

Seriously, I have a-many plans in the works, but ween talmbout me right now.

But when we encounter a bitter person, we often hit them with the questions meant to bring them out of being bitter.

Again, what's wrong with it?

It's a feeling. An emotion. We have them shits for a reason. And believe it or not, bitterness can incite change.

Imagine if our elders weren't bitter about the way they were treated. They probably would've accepted things being the way they were. Speaking for myself, I was bitter at the opportunities I felt I missed when I left JSU to come back home LIKE A DAYUMED FOOL!!!

*another blog for another day*

Upon calming my tits, I began working on finishing my degree. I took the voluntary buyout from my previous employer. Though I'm still getting my footing, I've seen major progress.

To me, being bitter is not bad. I'll even go so far as to tell you there isn't anything wrong with it lasting a little longer than the masses think. My message to you is to have a plan whensenever you come out of it.

Fight the temptation to tell someone "stop being so bitter" because you're attempting to police their feelings simply due to you deeming them negative. "But she bitter about some nigga she knew wasn't right!"

And?

"But he bitter about not getting a job he wasn't qualified for!"

Hell, an ugly, orange, booty-lipped bigoted toupee wearing ass muppet became president of the United States with no political experience.

The best way to show support is to simply say "make sure you come out of it with a plan". Don't time it. Don't erase it. Don't use it as an insult. Chantè Moore hated the nigga's dog! Betcha she had a reason!

Aight, I'm going to the kitchen again. Maybe I'll find a wayward chicken.

My sugar low.

Cancellation Culture and Why We Shan't Cosign

2018-01-08T22:17:00.001-06:00

Every 48 to 72 hours, I can gah-raun-tee that SOMEBODY is going to say or do something incorrect. Within a turnaround time of 49 to 73 hours, we will find that human to be cancelled.

Now, except for Logan Paul's mophead ass, I think we need to cease and desist with them tricks.

Show me a person who hasn't said or done something sideways and I'll show you a saptapper so fake that the rain will make it turn colors. Not one person in this realm is 100% accurate. Hell, even I had to fix my face a many times.

One day, I took a moment to read some old blogs and journals. Here's a synopsis of my thoughts and opinions from 10-15 years ago:

*Gays should be okay with civil unions

*Voting is pointless

*Women are responsible for preventing their own sexual assaults

*Get a job and stay at that junt forever

*You can't be confident if you don't like your weight

*Transpeople are confused as gender is binary

Now...had you seen me wax poetically on those bulleted statements, it'd be safe to assume that I was Transphobic, Homophobic, Fatphobic, Misogynistic, and a partridge in a pear tree.

And you'd be well within yo right to quit me...because those thoughts aren't right.

The way Cancellation Culture works is that as soon as a person says or does something that ain't agreeable, you call Sandman Simms on that ass and cut em loose. You may or may not explain to the human as to why they said what they said, but they know you've terminated them.

Real talk, Delegation: if you cancel every single human who ever said or acted contrary, you'd be a lonely saptapper. You would hover on an island of pure, unadulturated solitude with nobody to entertain you but a wayward copy of The Watchtower.

Allow Tam to tell you this juicy tidbit.

Lean in closer...

The most important part is how the person responds to the callout, not that the person never messes up.

Didja get it? I boldfaced that ho for the people in the back.

After sharing my perspective on womenfoke needing to "do better" in avoiding sexual assault, methinks my drag was so long, they thought Jason Voorhies had my ass by the cankle. The reactions ranged from calm acknowledgement to the "bitch, are you fucking nuts" level call out. I defended my standpoint respectfully until one person took to my inbox.

"Why do you feel that way?"

Matter of factly, I said "it's not right for men to violate women, but we need to make it tougher for them."

"When you followed with 'but', you negated everything you just said."

Over a period of a few days, she put me up on game. She was strong, yet polite. Never did she disrespect me, nor did she publicly tear me apart. All I could muster was "I'm so sorry".

To say I felt like a cad is an understatement. From the last day of our convo to now, I try to be more mindful of what I say and who my words can affect.

And I didn't delete the post.

Every so many months, I get a comment about it. Calmly, I reply "I don't feel this way at all anymore. I've grown since then."

Those old posts filled with narrowminded ignorance will never disappear because I love seeing my evolution. Besides, I refuse to play "Deadass Woke" when I missed the first two alarms.

Fortunately for me, I didn't get cancelled by my close members of the Delegation. Especially the queer women of color who I befriend. One of my lesbian buddies clarified so much to me that I coulda sworn I owed her tuition, mane! LOL! She didn't wash her hands with me. And I thank her for the schooling.

We have to get beyond this need to chop someone at first error. How much time and energy would it take to explain the better way? Even if you're mad as a wet hen and need to gather your thoughts and snatch an edge or three, do so then help in the healing and education.

There will be plenty of instances where you will encounter some sumbitch who prefers to bask all in the wrongness. You could pull a full John Urchitel and get the whiteboard and they STILL ain't talmbout shit.

Now THAT, my Delegation, is when you cancel.

Family, friends, coworkers, the yard mane, you name it, will most likely line step. Your job isn't to prevent habitual line stepping. Your job is to get the bastard back on the straight and narrow.

If you find yoself at the point where you want to cancel someone, use this checklist.

1. Is this the first mistake the person has ever made?

2. How is the person reacting to my call out?

3. If they're trying to change for the better, is this effort consistent in public AND private?

4. Are you calm about the discussion?

5. If cancellation is absolutely imminent, are you doing so due to this violation or do you have receipts?

In closing, please consider helping one another navigate this crazy, mixed up world. We don't need a gang of foke cutting a shine at the intersections.

The doors of the chuuch is open! Is there not one?

2017...The MUVA of All Learning Experiences!!!

2017-12-30T20:03:00.002-06:00

I had been festering mightily on how FUCT UP the year of our Lorde 2017 was for me. Like, all damn year, I been catching varying degrees of hell and I just...UGH...was about to wax poetically about how I hated every damn month of this year.

But I chilled.

That's right. I chilled.

Instead of allowing myself to cry, wax, wane and go on about the shitshow that was this whole year, I decided to do myself a much needed favor. I'm about to flip all of this and tell you that each and everything that happened to me has made me a magnanimous mofo who is about to show herself a thing or two.

You can spectate if you wanna.

*Self Love is The Best Love: All this year has been a chain of reminders that nobody is going to give me love like I can. Shiiiid, it's a reason why people flock to train wrecks. Either they want to save the day or watch shit burn. Thing is...how do you know who's coming to do what? There's a risk in awaiting rescue because you may never be saved, or some sumbitch is saving you for their own gain. If I take the initiative in giving myself the love I need, then I won't need anyone to save me. Outside love is supposed to supplement my own. Never should it supercede.

*Needing/Wanting Attention is NOT a Bad Thing: I enjoy being the center of attention at times. The Gemini in me is fully aware that within 24-36 hours of desiring said attention, my black ass is going Full Hermit and hiding in my fort. I spent so much time trying to deny that I crave attention that I almost convinced myself that it was bad. No...it ain't. As with anything in life, there's a time and a place for it. I am also aware that I don't have to do shit I don't want to do to get it. I love being the star of the story! It's a rush! So why should I deny that's who I am? You won't catch me doing un-Tamlike things for it, though.

*Simple Joys Ain't Simple if it Brings Me Joy: I went back to the good ol' days of journals, books, music, and binge watching all the things. Mane, I used to be so ashamed to admit that I didn't have any major hobbies, until I realized that no matter the bullshit that hit my ass that day, those hobbies brought me back to life! I've added makeup and nails into the mix, and am so much happier. Why not find joy in something that cannot be controlled by outside forces? I mean, it's not based on other foke moods. Perfect!

*Self Care Ain't Selfish: I got my ass handed to me for not answering the phone. But hell, I didn't *want* to. No shade on anyone in particular, but I didn't feel like it. I used to push through for people, even if I didn't feel like it. I never wanted to let anyone down, ya know? So I would ignore my mental and physical wellness to be what others needed. For what, tho? To have foke all like "you're so sweet" or "you'll do anything for anybody"? But Tam never busted her ass for herself that way. I asked a friend "how do yoy make time for yoself?" Her reply was simple: "Take it." From that day to this, I never let my needs go on the backburner. I'm typing this damn blog whilst drying my navy blue nails. I wanted blue nails...so I painted them junts. Boom.

*The Squad Ain't As Big As it Used to Be, but Tis YET a Squad: Oh how I never, EVER, thought I'd be cool with that!!! It's a beautiful thing, y'all. I love knowing that the few saptappers I got really got me. I used to want like, a whole mess of foke in my corner until I started seeing these bastards ain't shit. One of my former longtime friends has YET to speak to me in over 16 months. Someone said "y'all just need to talk". Nigga...no. I don't owe her shit! If you can't reach out to me to see about me, then you can go. Throughout all the shit I've battled in 2017, I got texts, FB messages, voicemails, cards, and even wayward Square Cash love offerings from people who just wanted me to know they thought of me. So why..would..I..call..her?

*Social Media is Marvelous: I let myself be browbeaten for being on The Facebooks and The Twitters quite often. Thing is, it never impeded my job, my fam, my dogs, or my health. It's my way of connecting with the world when I want to and my key to Fantasyland when the real world pisses me smooth off. Hell, how else will I nail this damn cut crease? 😂

And most importantly...

*Never Dim Your Light to Keep Others Comfortable: I'm on my way to being something amazing, chile. My beauty, humor, intellect, connections, and hustle will be making my starpower go through the roof in 2018! I've got some things in my journal that I'm speaking into existence, so why would I curtail my fire? F'what, motherfuckers? This past fall, I had an "A-ha Moment" and discovered who Tam really was. I stopped envying the IG Plus Girls and owned my body's curves, flaws, and quirks. I didn't need to change the shit methought was wrong. I am what I am. Like the tattoo on my back says, "I am my own special creation".

To sum up 2017, it was my most formative year by far. How bad could it have been if it has made Tamara the best version she could ever have been? All the struggle, heartbreak, hurt, debt, illness, and loss has shown me my greatest form. Hell, I saw Earth Wind & Fire TWO TIMES WITHIN FIVE MONTHS! HOWDAHELL COULD THIS YEAR SUCK DONKEY BALLS WHEN I HUGGED NILE RODGERS AND TOOK A PIC WITH MY BOYS?!

So this year was all about learning and survival. It was the time I needed to grow and prepare for my 36th year of life. When this year ends tomorrow, I'm going to bid that bitch farewell with deuces, and get ready to walk in the ball that is 2018.

Negativity cannot and shall not dwell in my temple ever again. My black ass is about to slide into greatness!

Back Up in That A** With a Resurrection!!!

2017-11-29T20:59:00.000-06:00

So I decided to resurrect this blog. I don't really think it was any legit reason other than me being here and being like "I miss my old blog".

My last post here was over seven months ago. Some major events have gone down in my realm since then.

Have a drink with me, mane.

* I got a damn haircut! It was slick necessary because my fro had run amok. But you KNOW my black ass is ascared of scissors, so this is monumental as hell! Nikki chopped me and replaced the blue with burgundy. JUST LOOK AT THIS!

* I started dabbling in makeup. Tis kind of funny because you could never have told me I would do that shit. I ain't Facegyrl level by far, but I can make myself look nice in public. Been heavily on e.l.f. Cosmetics because it isn't high as giraffe ass and I look good in their items. Mane, just look at this fineassery:

* Clothing...I feel good in it. Due to work, I had to start finding myself some adult clothes, so my maxi dress stash done amplified. However, I broke out the damn nice midriff baring ensembles because they fit and ain't high as hell. I've fallen in love with Rebdolls, Fashion Nova and Amazon Prime. I been killing the entire game (in my mind). On a side note, I got the links on this junt so you can save if you want to shop there. MIGHTY BIG HINT.

* My confidence level has slick increased. I still have those moments of doubt and wonder if I'm too fat to be wearing the tight items and crop tops. The Doll been letting the Bingo Wings free and I just threw caution to the wind, my dear!!! It's crazy how I stopped being afraid of my body and embraced it. I did lose 140 pounds, which is no feat. Even if I didn't lose that much, I am 35 damn years old. I can do whatsenever the hell I want!

Hell.

* I'm owning my shit. One of the things that I have struggled with was being embarrassed about mistakes I've made. I'm not beating myself up anymore, and am yet on the journey to be a better Tam. I'm also standing up for myself when motherfuckers want to throw things in my face. One lesson I learned in therapy was how I can accept the consequences of my actions without allowing people to belittle and berate me. I also know that things I've done was the result of low self esteem, lack of confidence, and placing my value in the opinions of others. Ultimately, I'm the master of my fate EarthSide. God got me up yondah. TIME FOR A CUSTOMARY PICTURE OF ME!

* I SAW EARTH WIND & FIRE TWICE IN ONE YEAR, DAMMIT! Yeah, so I saw them at the Orpheum in March then got a good VIP package in August. I got a big hug from Nile Rodgers of Chic and yet another pic with my squad!

* Peace. I found that shit. Today, I was irate as a mug and worried aboot my funds. Then, as quickly as I felt tears forming in my eyes, I was calm. I spent a couple hours wondering if my ass finally snapped or if I inhaled too many nail polish fumes over the last few weeks. Maybe God did this thing where he got tired of me being disgruntled. I dunno. But I took a page from my Resident Sisterhuman Yolanda and said "you're okay". I am okay. I will BE okay. The world is going to do its thing, so it would behoove me to do my thing. Right now, I'm nursing a broken foot and an empty wallet. But crying won't make my wallet full and my foot pain free. People will pick fights with me because they're unhappy with themselves. I don't have to carry the cross for them. I'm stronger. I'm peaceful. No more stress induced insomnia because BITCH, I'm sleepy!

With December 2017 being but a matter of hours away, I feel good knowing I'm about to close out strong than a mofo. I'm going to do better with this blog since I got this bastard going. After all, my voice is what makes me who I am! That's another thing, I ain't planning on shutting up anytime soon!!! I think this voice, in conjunction with my intellect and magnanimous beauty, will take me somewhere soon, Delegation!

Until next time, Gadget!

Tam

p.s. - ANOTHER ONE!

Before Bed 4/23/17

2017-04-23T22:22:00.001-05:00

Before I close this here Sunday, allow me to share this thought:

Stop it with the "and I can't even get a text back" pics.

Typically, those pics have women who are big girls or some other "undesired" look..being shown affection or attention by a guy.

I cannot say why you ain't getting a text back. Maybe youse a dick. Maybe you has Metro PCS. Maybe you ain't dealing with a quality human. Or maybe because you think you the shit and SOMEBODY is reminding you that you ain't.

Hell, I'm far from redbone lightweight. I look like Gizmo. I can't see worth a damn. I'm legally disabled and I'm pretty sure that my knee isn't supposed to sound like that..but somebody married me at over 400 pounds.

Stop it with that boolshit.

Hell, even Halle Berry can't get right.

-Tam

Trimming the Fat...

2017-04-13T20:43:00.001-05:00

The hardest lesson for me is trust.

The feelgood, naïve Tam wants everyone to be her friend. She IS everyone's friend. She'll do whatever she can to help. She donates to all the campaigns..and she signal boosts when she's broke. She compliments and encourages. She gives and gives..just as she would want others to do for her.

However, as she has recently learned, that courtesy is not returned.

I'm not trying to sit here and convince you that I'm this perfect ass human being who has never done a fucked up thing. Hell, I got my ways. Thing is, despite my flaws, mistakes, hellcattery, and miscellaneous bullshit, I know five people who never left me hanging.

Ever.

Shiiiid, it took death to lower the number by one!

One thing about those foke who have proven themselves to me is that they never hesitated to come to me to address things I've done.

They..came..to..me.

They didn't go on social media and broadcast. I never had to question if a meme was subliminal. And most gotdamn importantly, I was first to know how they felt about an action pertaining to me. That truth stung, but I never had to hear from an outsider that my friend didn't like something I said or did.

The last six months or so have shown me a lot about friendship.

My real friends called me out as necessary. They didn't cheer me on in my presence only to convene in an inbox about how messed up I was. My people directly addressed me.

I love them for that.

It hurts to lose friends, especially to someone who values friendship so much. However, Ith can't even consider them to be friends if they flipped on me so quickly.

Associates, maybe?

Nah.

Fuck it...I'll be fine with that small circle of trusted fokes. Granted, the cookout won't be lit as hell with fokes parked all down the street. But to break bread with people who truly got my back, aren't fake, and whose allegiance doesn't waver like a ceiling fan missing a blade means more than anything in this world.

In less than two months, I'll be 35 years old. The best gift I can ever give myself is peace of mind. To know that my real friends will catch me when I fall, answer when I call, and stand by me is amazing. I'll mourn the loss, but in time the wounds will heal.

Tam deserves way more than people think she does. See, to those who give no damns about me, they'll say "she deserves whatever happens to her". To those who value me, they'll say "you deserve better, so tighten up".

I deserve better..so I'm tightening up..Archie Bell.

And to those who think I'm "playing the victim", go straight to hell. There are many battles going on in my life, and that information is not for public consumption. It's for DAMN sure not for you to go relaying and gossiping. At this juncture, if you don't know what's going on, there's most likely a reason. If your "knowledge" of what's going on with me comes from some sumbitch who hasn't spoken directly to me, then you don't know shit. If you think so little of me that you won't come straight to me..well, you have no place in my realm.

I owe nobody anything, especially fokes who ain't putting in on me and my kids eating.

Runteldat.

The Doll is Moving!

2016-02-03T22:57:00.000-06:00

After several years of rants, raves, hellraising and the like, I'm veering over to my own domain.

Effective aboot an hour ago, I cracked open my first blog under the Hellfire and TamNation site. I won't be deleting this blog because it's part of Tam. This blog has some good, bad and "what'n de blue hell" moments, and I don't want to erase them junts.

On Tumblr, a many moons ago, I cosigned to a post that was highly misogynistic, stupid & asinine. I got called out about it. Shole damn did. It changed my views and enlightened me profusely. Every now and then, someone reblogs it or will pop up in my messages like "um, really?"

I'll never delete it.

I could make it disa-damn-peer and act like I've been waking up for years and YALL asses just now noticing! But that isn't how Tam operates. Everything I post. Everything I read. Alladat..that's my evolution. A heffer learns daily and often..as I'm hoping you would as well.

Well Delegation, I'm aboot to break camp from over here and go to the new house. I just had to make sure I left my forwarding address.

See you next door!

~Tam

Heddo 2016!

2016-01-07T22:24:00.002-06:00

I didn't do a good job with 2015. At. All.

Chile baby, The Doll spent that whole year in a perpetual state of sickness. As my sparse blog posts will reflect, I didn't do nuffin sufficiently. My mind was weak, and it reflected in my physical health. It started with the flu, annnnnnd it went downhill from thurr.

And you know what? I'm happy as hell I went through it.

One might ask if I finally lost my marbles. I would answer in the affirmative. There is one dadgummed marble left. Un marble. At least that saptapper is blue!

Have a drink with me, Delegation. This is going to be one hellified ride. Keep yo hands and feet inside the ride at all times. Or not. Hell. I just hope you met your deductible.

This year, I solemnly swear to do all the things. Whatsenever Tam wants to do shall be done. I am too much yo do so little! Do you know the average Tam lamented 14 times a day during the average work week in 2015? I never hid the fact that I was (and still am) battling depression and anxiety. My therapist successfully convinced me that I was among my biggest problem. While my magnificent ass was boosting everyone else up, I was downing myself. It is kinda like how beauticians can lay errbody else's hair, but come to the shop in a baseball cap.

Yep. Tis Tam.

You couldn't beat me trying to be everything to everybody, yet nothing to myself. I would allow myself to be swayed from doing what I wanted/needed. Do you know how many times I gave my last to people? Not financial, but as a whole? Each week, I'd go to therapy and cry. She'd tell me to treat myself better. I'd agree. Then I'd fail. The next appointment, I'd recount my fails and leave with another homework assignment. My heart knew I needed to do it. My brain was like, "hey hookah. Could you do me a solid and do the things?" Then, my stomach would churn. My heart would race. In the end, I would regress.

I just couldn't bring myself to shake the table.

Yes. I defeated myself...again. It was nobody's fault but my own.

After the fifty-leventh time I ended up in a puddle of pity, it hit me.

How many gotdamn years am I going to be sick? When do I become the ally for Tam? I have a solid Delegation ready to cut a shine on my behalf, but I never did it for myself. I'd kill for my family's well-being. It looked like I was killing myself, doe. Who really won?

So here I am, damn near 8 days into a new year. Fresh out of three hunnerd and siddy fie days of hell and I was already in route to a repeat. If I were talking to someone else, I'd say "it's time to be your own best friend. Take time to make yoself happy!" All the good idears came out of my mouf but I didn't apply them.

Alrighty. So why change now?

BECAUSE MY BLACK ASS OWES SAID BLACK ASS SOME HAPPINESS!

Sorry for yelling.

I has a leest of things I be needing to do this year of our Lordt. I will share with you, Delegation!

1. Create a vision board: Maybe if I put things out thurr for myself, I will have no choice but to pay attention. It's easy to say or think of what I be needin' to work on. It's even easier to tell myself it's futile. I copped a journal just for my visions.

2. Do unto myself as I do unto others: I'm a ride or die wife, mom, best friend, and granddaughter. I need to apply that strength to myself. I just gave my daughter a pep talk about being courageous and not letting fear rule you. Damn shame I haven't practiced what I just preached.

3. Value the nothing: Keeping busy served as a distraction. I lied to myself everyday by saying I was going to get rest, read, watch all the Netflix and/or take a nap. My magazine pile is taller than Tyrion Lannister. My self-help books were full of helpful hints I'd never execute. I just could not be alone with me. Now, there will be Mental Health days or time allotments. I can't fight for myself if I'm cat raggedy.

4. Pull a Bishop Bull Winka: Say "hell naw"! Bruh..you just don't know how hard this will be..but just how important it is to be done. If it upsets somebody, tough titty.

5. Get David Ruffin right: this damn dog needs a structure. He is the sweetest little anarchist! Dogs know when you full of smoke. When I got that concussion, he knew I was hurt. That means he knows I'm full of shit. Would you listen to someone who you knew couldn't back up what they were saying? Cesar Millan preaches calm, assertive energy. My damn energy was on some boolsheet. No wonder Jone kept giving me them side eyes!

And last, but not least..

GET THY BLACK ASS OUT THE HOUSE!

Beating anxiety, or at least managing it, won't happen in one week. Once a monff, I will take myself out or join a group of humans. Being a Modified Hermit is a punishment for something I didn't do. While I should be able to enjoy the peace of my home, I need to carry that peace inside myself. Hell, I may be able to do that networking thing I heard so much aboot!

Delegation, this is my year. The Doll is snatching trophies AND edges! I get one extra day in 2016 to make the best of me. No more negative thoughts. I believe, therefore I walk in it.

Get ready for the getdown!

The Mind-Body Connection, aka - Mental Wellness

2015-05-26T22:14:00.001-05:00

For the last four months, I have been going through a major illness. My body is not well. I have been battling chronic headaches in addition to several other problems. One day, I woke up in tears. I ran to my primary care doctor and bawled my eyes out. He listened to me and recommended an Infectious Disease Specialist to look into my case. Much to my dismay, this doctor didn't really take me as seriously as I needed him to. Combine this with a chronic foot condition leaving me in daily pain and an ortho doc unable to find a cure and you'll get someone who had completely unraveled.

I found myself on a therapist's couch. I knew WHY I was there, but I didn't really even feel right being there. In the hours leading to my visit, I debated cancelling the appointment. I was sitting outside in Le NewKon asking myself questions.

"Why are you going to a damn therapist?"

"Fokes are going to think you're crazy. Wait. They already do. Now it's documented!"

"If you go to a therapist, I heard your life insurance premium will go up."

"Just go home and rest. Why waste her time?"

I walked in anyway, realizing that what I was going through wasn't getting any better and I needed some professional help from an outsider. Truth be told, I didn't want another person to just tell me to "pray about it". I prayed daily and woke up after broken rest with the same pains. Maybe God put this woman in my life to help me.

I sat on her couch and immediately got nervous. I wondered if she'd get me. I didn't know what to do or say. My mind was going a mile a minute and she asked me in a calm voice..

"What brings you here to see me today?"

I gave her the rundown about my health and the loss of my roadie in December. I was transparent as hell, and she was very blunt. For an hour, she came with the realness. Time flew by and I made my appointment for my second visit. I actually looked forward to it.

Well, visit two came and this time, she started off our session with something I knew, but never held on to:

"Tamara..you don't take care of yourself at all. You do everything for everyone else. From what you wear to where you go, it's always for others. You're physically ill, but you're tending to a sick grandmother. You overextend yourself. You have so many things YOU need and want, but you talk yourself out of them because you are always wondering how others will be affected. You can't be what your husband and kids need unless you take care of yourself FIRST!"

Annnnnnnd, cue the waterworks..

I had successfully convinced myself that I was selfish if I put my needs above everyone else's. I would skip doses of medication because I didn't want to fall asleep while cooking. I was sitting around sick as hell and still trying to be everyone's person. Dr. Ades told me that I needed to begin cutting the phone off and doing what I'm supposed to be doing. I cried because I knew this. Between sobs, I asked her "what do you do when everyone leans on you?"

She said "people lean on you because you've shown yourself to be reliable. Nobody leans on something unstable. If you can't do something because you're sick, they'll just have to find another person or another way to do things. Nobody's going to catch on fire if you can't help them this time."

I thought to myself.."I'm not sure about my daddy, though. His truck DID catch on fire once."

In just two sessions, I realized that I've spent 14 years of my adult life taking care of everyone else first. It's earned me a wonderful reputation and placed me high in the minds of many, but now that I'm in a situation in which my body is failing, I see that I'm suffering from this. It's not to say that I'll be a jackass, but I need to follow the orders of the well-paid cats in white coats.

If your mind is not healthy, your body can't be healthy. What I'm going through is very stressful, and I needed to be under the care of someone who could help me deal with the issues in my life at this time. For many people, you could take a look at my Facebook pages and see happiness. You see pictures of a smiling Tam who finds humor in everything. That's because I've successfully convinced myself to never let others see me when I'm feeling low. Occasionally, I will reveal some low points. However, I think back to the morning after Taniya died. I was at work in tears, but when the phone rang, I snapped out of it. I didn't want the customers knowing I was hurting. I didn't want to be THAT person that murders the mood being all depressed. But the reality is that this has been tough mentally. I am thankful that all the praying gave me clarity to seek additional help.

People are overjoyed that we are able to get one free doctor's visit per year for a basic checkup. However, I wish more people celebrated the access to mental health professionals. I went through my Employee Assistance Program and they provided 8 free sessions with a therapist. Unfortunately, not too many others have this access or think they even need the help.

Look, seeing a therapist doesn't make you "crazy". It's a part of your overall well being. Therapists can help you deal with stress, grieving, or even give you tips on how to maintain if things are going well. You aren't crazy when you go to a dentist to get your teeth cleaned, nor are you crazy for getting an annual at the OB, so why would it be crazy to get a mental health check?

We never know what people are going through and honestly, what they're going through is none of our business. However, if they have a trusted professional, they can get the help they need. We can confide in our friends and family, but why not a third party who is LEGALLY to keep your business out the streets? It's a safe place and that's all some of us need to get out of the darkness.

Take care of yoselves out there, fam. And don't think you have to be depressed to get some help, aight?

~Management

Racists, Go To Hell. Signed, Tam.

2015-01-21T15:37:00.001-06:00

Today was the day that I realized that I've had absolutely enough of the racism bullshit that I see online. I think that I've grown tired of it all.

See, the way The Tam works with racists is that she hits them right back with the very words that they've used to try to hurt me. I laugh in their faces. I stand eye to eye with them and make them reverence me. Only in one situation did someone not cower down, and even as that apologetic racist stood firm, I told him "at least you're a bold dumbass. That's what I'm talmbout, son".

For me, a racist is the lowest of the low. That person has made a conscious decision to do one of the following:

1. Formulate an opinion of a person based on the color of their skin

2. Allow someone to indoctrinate them so solidly that they can't think for themselves, and thus mistreat a person because of their race.

So to me, you, in the words of "Got 2 B Real", "are low class pieces of shit".

When I decide how I feel about a person, I base it on my actual experience with that person. I don't go based on someone else's words or opinions. I feel that it's basic respect for someone to be judged on what and how they are to me. If I dogged people out based on what I heard, then I'd be less of a Tam.

So in the realm of racism, you are looking at a race and deciding that you're going to paint us all with one color. You decide that Black people are all the same and unworthy of being judged as individuals. You look at the news and see some fools wilding out with "ghetto names" and think we all do that thing. Even as you see Black people doing it big, you relegate us to being niggas.

I have encountered situations with racists and each time, I turned that junt around on them. As I mentioned above, only one person stood firm in the stupidity. Here are some of the comedies of racism I've endured.

*Schnuck's Standoff: Back when Schnuck's was on Quince and Ridgeway, I went up there to cop my WIC items and get a few things to cook. Being that I was a G with the WIC, I already had my items sorted and ready for the cashier. This white woman in line behind me, who's on the phone, says "oh no, I'll be a little late. The Welfare Queen is going to hold up the line putting back stuff she can't afford." The cashier, an older white lady, instantly frowned up and said "excuse me?" I then turned and looked at said heffer on the phone and said "are you going to tell your friend that you're using an EBT card to buy your food or do you not want her to know YOU are the Welfare Queen?" Naturally, there was silence. I followed up with "can you NOT throw stones in a glass house if you have that American Flag card, girlfriend?" She gets out of line with a red face and doesn't look back. The cashier was hilarious. "I would have cursed her out for you!"

*Fatassery Behind the Wheel: I accidentally cut this guy off on Lamar. It was my fault because I totally was zoned out. Jones had the nerve to yell "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING YOU FAT NIGGER BITCH!"

I balled to catch up with him and yelled back "MY BAD NIGGA! I WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION!" And I sat at that light looking at him with a smile on my face!

*The Boldness of Dumbassery: The unapologetic racist fool that I ran into who stood strong in his mess was HEE-LARRY-US! Check it. So I was trolling the book store trying to find myself some reading material. This group of country bumpkin cats are whispering and giggling, and my Negronoia let me know that I'm prolly the source of the laughter. I was right.

The ringleader says "I didn't know niggers read books without pictures in them" and they snicker. I said "hmph, looks like you don't get out much. Dating your cousin can tie up your free time like that." All of them hush, except for the ringleader.

"You really have balls to say that to my face."

"Baby, who ARE you? I don't have a reason NOT to say anything to you."

"Ignorant bitch. Go back to Frayser or wherever you're from."

"Not from Frayser, son. Go away, your presence bothers me."

"Niggers nowadays don't know their place."

"Neither do you, nigga. You're in a bookstore and I know good and hell well you can't read shit in here beyond 'Clifford the Big Red Dog'."

*his crew is pulling him to leave*

"Fuck that. I bet you won't say that to my face."

*looks dead in his face* "DO..YOU..KNOW..THE WAY..TO SESAME STREET..IGNORANT ASS?"

Eventually, he and the flunkies leave..all the while, he's still talking cash money bull. A few cats heard him and someone whispered some words in his ear. I was amused.

Those are only three of dozens of racist issues that I've endured. But in each situation, I never allowed them to get to me. However, after seeing the posts from the racist trolls on Facebook, I slick snapped. In the real world, I could clapback. I could allow my smiling face to show that I'm not bothered.

However, online..I realized that there is no refuge. There is no "safe place". There is a bigger venue and an ability to have a forum. Even worse, on Facebook, efforts to ban racist speech and imagery often go unanswered. I went to a safe place (or so I thought) in which I explored the new NBC BLK page. Under virtually every post, nothing but unabashed racist heckling. No matter how hard I tried to ignored it, I couldn't get away from it. I didn't go to a page that was meant to reach the Black demographic looking for racism. But racists took their time, over a period of days, and attacked us. They brought MLK into the fray, saying that he "didn't die for us to re-segregate" and even worse things..accusing us of having "Black Privilege".

Yes. We have Black Privilege.

According to the meme (that I won't display in my space), this privilege is the right to blame the police for everything we do and not be held accountable. It also included the right to live off of the government, all the while complaining that it hates us.

Yes.

I know that I can only control myself. I can't convert a person. I damn sure can't convert a person so simple that they won't take the time to learn about me as a person. I can't tell a white person that it's asinine to put us all into one category. I refuse to waste my energy trying to tell someone that we are not a monolith. So why am I so angry?

Because I'm tired. I'm conflicted. I know that I'm not enduring nearly as much as my elders did. I still have the ability to work where I want, go to school as I please, and even some laws that will MAKE a saptapper reverence me!

I'm sick of these people, though.

We're allegedly "post-racial". We have a Black President. And Jeezy's Lambo is still blue.

But people are still ignorant as hell.

Damn.

Goodbye, Bouncy

2014-12-31T21:12:00.002-06:00

Typically, this is the blog in which I reflect on my year. It was a rather eventful year, this 2014. But I admit this will be a stark departure from my usual.

I can't deny that I have done some big ass, bad ass things this year. I actually RETIRED from my first adult job at age 31! I took a six month vacation then started an even better gig that has already been wicked awesome. I got a SECOND Yukon, yes Gawd, and gas is cheap enough for me to drive *points* that way for as long as I want!

Even as I revel in my blessings and successes, I close 2014 at the lowest point I have been in a very long time. Each of those highs were shared with a wonderful friend who left us on December 23rd of this year. When I got that phone call, my world fell into a million pieces.

I know it may sound dramatic to say that one loss overshadowed all the victories in El Mundo del Tam..but right now, it does. Imagine listening to a fie ass orchestral piece and then having the strings removed. You may still LIKE the sound, but you know it sounded better with those strings.

Taniya was my string section.

She made the music of my life sound awesome.

When I was up, I knew she was up with me. When I was down, she helped me up. She leveled me out when I was ready to throw a molotov cock..um...when I was really, really mad as hell.

*whistles*

Yeah.

Moving on.

I'm sure that some of you have that Ride or Die who held you down for 2/3rd of your life, and even if your chat wasn't daily, it never ended. When I heard "Many Moons" by Janelle Monae on my phone, I knew I had a gem coming. Who would have thought the last time I heard it would be her husband telling me she was gone.

I could write about her all night, telling of the comedies we had. How pineapples in rum still counted as a section on Le Food Pyramid and how Marsha Ambrosius sang "Say Yes" in a way only Taniya could imitate perfectly. Sushi was just as cool as fried fish and Price kicked ass at the Pyramid in 2004.

I am going to take a deep breath now and let my feels be. I want to ring in 2015 the way she would want, but I am just going to have to be cussed out because I can't get right.

I loved her as a sister. And that says a lot for someone who only liked six women at a time.

Taniya..thank you for 20+ years of giggles, running gags and all the Prince one could need.

And yes..Chelsea Rodgers WAS a model.

Rest in Power.

~Me

The Demons We Fight

2014-08-11T20:06:00.001-05:00

Not long ago, America found out that one of our favorite comedians and actors allegedly took his own life. Losing Robin Williams today confirmed something I have said for years..we never know the masks that people wear.

When people commit suicide, we begin trying to find out answers. We are hurt..shocked..angry..confused. We juggle with emotion because we "don't understand". We try dissecting their lives. We look to those closest. We begin assuming. We go nuts! "Why would Robin Williams kill himself?"

We don't know.

It's easy to begin judging him because suicide is "taking the easy way out." Have you ever been through a real battle? Have you ever struggled with issues heavier than what to wear Friday night? Do you know what it's like to think death is better than life? No? Yes? Doesn't matter. Don't judge.

People these days are truly hurting. We try so hard to keep our problems hidden, which can only complicate matters. Battling those dark thoughts can kill you. It has, unfortunately, taken many before today.

I guess when we lose people who look far from suicidal, we lose our respective minds. What we have to do is keep people in our thoughts and prayers at all times.

Reach out to someone today. Please.

Have You Ever Considered Stifling?

2014-08-10T00:00:00.001-05:00

I didn't have a creative way to title this blawg so I just chucked something up thurr.

But yes. I just felt like clearing my mind of whimsy about a topic dwelling in my sanctum. Why do people think their opinions HAVE to be interjected? Why are your thoughts so dastardly important that you can't hold your respective mule?

Because..somewhere along the way, people lost the ability to practice decorum online. Also, I blames the new era of the interwebs. We didn't have these issues in the Geocities/Blackplanet daze.

Speaking fo myself, as I am my best spokesperson, I think before I reply. I has a little list o' things I use to determine if my opinion is necessary. You want to know them. You want to know the list because you like me. Yep.

1. Was my opinion actually asked for? Sometimes, people will ask questions. Like, they'll directly seek a two cent donation because they want or need them. If not, I will operate under the default setting of "they didn't ask me".

2. How important is it that I share my opinion? I recall a post last year in which a former Facebook Fiend (and I meant "Fiend" too) shared a post that was inaccurate regarding the LGBT community. Being a passionate ally, I simply replied with "that isn't true." Now, I could have simply scrolled on, but the post was very effed up and I hate when misinformation is shared as fact. Only after he asked "why isn't it true" did I elaborate. (Again, see #1)

3. How well do I know the person? I have some cats who are messy, petty, incendiary and flatfoot damn annoying on my friends list. I consider this in determining if it's worth my time because they may end up pissing ME off. Now, if'n you're up on my Hierarchy o' Buddies list, I will be more likely to chime in.

4. Do I know what the hell I'm talmbout? Have you ever read or heard someone discussing something and was like "the hell?" I know my ass has. It never fails..some saptapper comes into the convo like they are the leading authority on said topic. Funny how it usually happens when someone is replying to Thaddeus Matthews. Anyhoo, I consider myself a rather smart heffer. Smart enough to know what I know and how to find out what I do NOT know.

5. Have I finished cooking the turkey necks? No. No, I have not.

6. Are my intentions legit? You ever stop and read a comment just to wonder if the author was trying to be..something? Usually on Facebook, you can count on someone trying to be the resident authority on something. You have the Doctor, the Lawyer, the Superdad/mom, the Nutritionist, the Teacher, the Mechanic, the Politician, the Personal Trainer and the Pastor...and none of the aforementioned people are actually who they are. I know this is a tad similar to #4, but there are some people who post to try making others think they are greater than. They aren't trying to serve any other purpose than boosting themselves up.

And last, but not least..

7. Did I really pay attention to the post? You ever see comments under a post that gave explicit directions such as "inbox me"? Those cats clearly didn't see that. Also, people have fallen victim to satire fifty-leven times because they don't consider their sources. Some people are very clear in what they want or need, and if you pay attention, you can govern yoself accordingly.

In short..if people want your opinions, you'll know. Don't assume that just because they posted something that they NEED yo two cents. Yeah yeah, we know we have some people who seek attention..but even in those situations, do you need to take the bait?

For every post I chime in on, there are at least 6 that I won't even say anything on. I exercise my right to scroll past, hide post, unfollow or even unfriend. I am perfectly cool with that. I love a good discussion, true enough. However, I save myself for topics that matter. Ain't got time to deal with all that extra booty chatter.

Shoot.

WELP! Meds are kicking in, fokes. I reckons I'll learn more aboot forensics by way of Investigation Discovery. You know, if each show on that channel was a college class, my ass'd be Dr. Cranford by now. I'd defend my dissertation in the finest of New Balance.

Mmm hmm. Shole would.

~Fin

Thinking Thoughts and Such

2014-08-06T20:15:00.000-05:00

I really need to do better with my blog, yo.

Let me cue my music.

I think this is going to be one of those "clearing my mind of whimsy" blogs.

Non sequitur than a mug.

Don't have high hopes that I will make sense. This is what happens when I go too long betwixt purging my brain thingy.

1. We know Lil Kim has inspired some people: I think when one does answer raps or posts such as "Identity Theft", it makes one seem slick petty. I know she knows that she has been the source of several female rappers' styles. Most notably, Ms. Onika has drawn some inspiration from her. Maybe it's just me, but if I see people out there *in Eddie Kang, Jr voice* "tryna be me", I wouldn't be upset. I know you emulating me. YOU know you emulating me. WE ALL KNOW you emulating me. I will just sip my tea with a smile and say "awww...look at her trying to get like mama!"

2. Ebola: Why you bring that ass to the mainland, son? Set up a joint on Antarctica and get Jones back together. That way, none of us are at risk. I know, I know...I'm being noid and dramatical. But cuz, I'm allergic to life and half of North Memphis. I don't need no troubles.

3. I watched the Fiddy Shades trailer: I guess I'll go see it because I want to see if it'll be worth the hype. I may be the only wife there with less than three tax deductions, but hey..I need a laugh. I'll smuggle in a five piece Louisiana Rub from WingSteezy and enjoy myself. Chicken makes all movies better. Except Pluto Nash ass.

4. Nicole Murphy quit ol' boy: I honestly didn't read all the details, but I was like "why you got to piss on Sir Strahan's teepee?" Rumors say she wasn't feeling his prenup and that he was cheating, but of course, we'll never know. What I do know is that whatever pettiness she may have had didn't rear its head one Wednesday after Big Freedia went off.

Music off. Lemme re-up.

Yaaaaaaaas.

As I was.

5. Allegedly, The Carey-Cannon Coalition is disbanding: Reports say this is due to her "diva behavior".

Because Mariah just became a diva BEFORE Big Freedia's season two finale aired. I'll believe it when TMZ reports it.

6. I left the house today: It was HORRIBLE!

I guess that's it for this day. I got to do better. I'm still recovering from going outside longer than two hours.

~Fin

So Damn Happy Right Noww

2014-08-01T20:26:00.002-05:00

I'm just going to dance...because the storm is over!

GOOD GOD!

So Just What ARE We For?

2014-07-19T08:44:00.001-05:00

What are women for?

Seriously, I want some legit answers.

This question comes because for the last several days, if not weeks, I've seen social media reduce women to being nothing more than carriers for kids and sex toys for horny men. When a woman exercises her entire right and says "no" to sex or any kind of undesired action, she is automatically seen as a "bitch" or a "feminist". I guess if she decides to use that brain of hers, she's breaking the rules.

As an avid social media heffer, I know that there are some womenfokes who make it very difficult to see their perspectives. You see a lot of the extremes. You see odd ass statements from women who say that they don't wash themselves frequently, saying "it's my right to forgo deodorant and bathing because I am not doing it to impress you!"

Yeap. Saw a post about that on Tumblr.

But LORD knows, I digress.

When that evil boy in California killed several people because women rejected him, people actually cosigned to his manifesto saying that women deserve that type of treatment because they didn't give that boy sex! Yes, it's the duty of beautiful women to show men attention and stroke their egos to prevent mass murder. I was not privy to this until some time ago.

I am not an unrealistic woman. My ideals are simple: we have rights and we are fully allowed to use them. I believe that our rights are simple as well: we have the right to govern ourselves as we please. That means that if you want to forgo procreation or go full Duggar, that's your right. If you want to remain a virgin until marriage or have hot sex in 30 minutes, that's your right. I simply believe that women have so many options presented to them in life and they should go in the direction they desire.

I know some men (and women, unfortunately) think that marriage changes things..that upon signing the dotted line, you lose your voice. In the case of Spreadsheet Spouse, people called the wife all kinds of "Selfish Bitches" and even condoned her husband shitting on their vows because of their infrequent sexual activity. Very few commenters across several sites recognized that there are several aspects we do not know. We don't know about her work schedule, but we know she cooks and cleans for him. We don't know how he requests sex. We don't know much beyond her shock and that funky ass spreadsheet. We do know that he felt the best way to communicate to his wife wasn't by opening his mouth and asking her "what's going on?" All we have are her answers, ranging from "watching her show" to "being tender from yesterday". Alas, we don't know much else.

The sadness that hits me when I read the interwebs and the rampant misogyny is immense. It makes me so worried for girls and women. It seems that as much ass as women kick in this world, in areas ranging from being homemakers to business owners (athletes, politicians, etc), we are still judged heavily and reduced to being walking tits and ass. We are judged because of things we do to improve ourselves. I'm watching a commercial for Keranique as I type and listening to a man gush about how this product makes his wife "look like the woman I married!" Wow. How dare she lose her hair?!

I know some people are going to read all of this and toss it into the "Raving Feminist" category. That's your right. I'm simply wondering what have women become and why are so many people accepting it? We are always reminded how all one has to do to keep her man happy is "feed him, fuck him and shut the fuck up!" Why do we even find that bullshit acceptable? We are not gotdamn robots! While I enjoy creating the finest of Pinterest recipies for my husband, I have other duties I am balancing, including my own personal health issues. When you tell women that all she needs to do is keep his belly full and dick drained, you don't consider her. At all. Life happens to us all, and you can't do anything about it other than govern yoself accordingly.

So yeah, what are we? Are we only useful to men if we keep their egos stroked? Do we lose our rights to free speech? Are we not enough if our hair is not long, our titties are not sitting high and our asses are not bubbled? If we don't cook well, are we relegated to quiet sex toys? If our feminine health changes our sexual situation, are we useless?

Seriously. Because yall really got me feeling some type of way. Women used to be slick revered and respected. Not so much anymore, son.

That Moment You Realize You Needs an Entire Job

2014-07-14T19:22:00.000-05:00

I have nothing else to do sooooo...I'M WRITING A BLAWG!

This one hunnerd and something odd day vacation of mine has been spent hovering endlessly on Facebook under the guise of networking. Truthfully, I've been harvesting reaction photos and laughing at videos of the odd persuasion.

Like this:

And this:

Then I been watching Kermit be shady as hell:

Like on this'n:

But I applied for a bunch o' jobs though.

For true.

Well, anyhoo. I reckons I'll read myself while I'm watching Hoarders. Nothing makes you feel better about the decision not to hang up clothes than realizing you can still walk around them junts. Also, it's good to know that you don't have whole animals mating and manifesting under your sleeping thingy.

Here's why I need an entire yob:

5. I done cooked too damn much sheet. When you live on Pinterest, you tend to pin stuff. I have learned how to make like fifty-leven casseroles, jambalayer, fo' pound cakes, some cookies, a lot of animals, uh, some cornbreads, a biscuit, stuff with rice, stuff with spaghetti, stuff with egg noodles. I done Trisha Yearwood-ed, Pioneer Woman-ed, Diva Can Cook-ed, and followed a bunch of other happy women who be like "isn't this great" and I'm like "yeah...but I can't even eat this shit". When you cook so much that you feed a fambly of fo' (including a behemoth and his daddy), yo mama and yo cousin too, you need something more constructives to do.

Totally made this. Well not THIS, but..yeah.

Which leads to this next one..

4. It's only so much Cracked-ing & BuzzFeeding one can do on a weekday. I've never been so enlightened on nice facts such as the fact that Pornstache is Cotton Whirry's brother and the lady who voiced Daria is the VP of Comedy Central. Mane look, I don't have enough sense not to give into the urge to learn worthless knowledge. I figure it'll be worth a damn one day when I get on Knowledge Bowl and SLAY you with my mental mind.

Wait. I can't get on Knowledge Bowl?

Son of a bitch.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty.

3. I actually talk to my Roku Box. I changed it's name to R.O.K.U. because I felt it needed an entire name. It's Rupert Oliver Kano Ulysses. Don't judge me, but it's a very good friend of mine. Rupert has comforted me throughout trying times such as the day I wanted to watch Stephen Fry talk to Morgan Freeman and that day I learned that pimpin' is truly not dead and the whores are indeed scared. However, I learned that in some circles, the whores are not afraid, just fiscally responsible and do not want to share their funds with someone who has gold teeth and wears Stacy Adams on weekdays.

Open. Casket. Shahp.

2. I have entirely too many photos saved to respond to fokes on Facebook. Like, I actually sit on the interwebs and find nice little reactions to post in threads. I don't even look at photos with a clear eye and conscience anymore. It's like "ooooh, I'm getting Leon's ass with this one" or "this is so damn shady. It just might work!" Just a few gems for thine:

Occasionally, I find useful things to share of importance to the masses, though. Like, I shared an article about traffic on the streets of Memphis and the other article about the stuff with the situation. I swear I'm useful.

On Tuesdays because today is looking mighty bad.

And my number one reason why I needs an occupation like The Spartans on Three Hunnerd?

Because I have not bought nary a New Balance in FOUR WHOLE MONTHS!

You know, I think you secretly expected me to say something of substance, but no. I haven't bought myself any sexy New Balance. I'm over here acquiring nice items by way of yard sales, donations and gifts and I have to find the right New Balance to wear with them.

I was on Amazon.com the other day when I took a look at my Wish List. Then I proceeded to add more shoes to it because I saw more shoes to add to it. Being an adult and deciding to save money so I won't be screwed up when it's time to pay a bill is nice, but there is a pair of shoes RIGHT NOW that just scream "hello Tamara...you likes us and we likes you and we're 5% cheaper than we were when you added us in March!"

Other runners up for reasons I need a whole job include:

*Knowing a lot about reality shows you don't even WATCH watch.
*Deciding to drive to Southaven to go to Target, then deciding you need to just continue driving *points* that way down Goodman Road until you get to Marshall County because you decided to go to Goodwill in Collierville and you didn't want to take the slab so you hung a left on Byhalia Road.
*Washing your hair because that bird landed on it.
*Falling in love with Sugar Hill...the zombie Blaxploitation film, not the infamous one.
*Watching every episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, then watching them again to see if you could've solved that junt.
*Did I mention naming my R.O.K.U. box?
*Having one more time to fall off my damn bike before needing to file for disability.
*Running in the rain and singing "Date With the Rain" by Eddie Kendricks

*Needing to find a nice outfit for the Earth Wind & Fire concert I'm going to in October.
*The fact that I had the time to conjure all this sheet up.

Well...at least I'm out of "AHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M ABOUT TO GO BELLYFLOP IN THE MIGHTY MISSISSIPPI" phase.

Progress?

Yes.

Oooh, piece of candy!

~Fin

Mane, F**k Cancer - a Rant

2014-07-10T22:21:00.000-05:00

Cancer has gotten to me again today. The loss of a Panther (JPF Classmate) reminded me of the ugliness of that disease. A daughter lost her dad and a wife became a widow. All because of cancer.

I was already raw in the feels after catching up on the second season of Big Freedia and seeing his mom, Vera, in pain due to cancer. A trailer for next week's episode shows what his fans already knew..that cancer claimed another beautiful spirit.

Months ago, I watched cancer and chemo take an excited new mom, Jen Arnold, down so bad that she wasn't strong enough physically to enjoy her new daughter. It drove Angelina Jolie to a major surgery as a way to hopefully avoid the same fate her mom met.

On a regular human front, I've read so many articles about moms choosing to birth their babies at the expense of their survival. Facebook friends have shared personal battles with cancer. I just reached out to a friend whose mom is fighting. Another friend has a daughter at St. Jude. A good "twin" buried her brother weeks ago. Cancer is just killing the spirits and bodies of so many around me.

My grandmother Chuck Norris-ed cancer twice. However, in my joy for her survival, I have to remember that while she won twice, someone else lost. The ultimate emotional pimp slap.

Last year, I Raced for the Cure with my grandmother and friends on my mind. I was so excited about my walk that I forgot I really wasn't supposed to do it. But as my feet burned, I thought of the pain and fatigue others felt. How dare I quit when they did not? Think of others. While my crossing of the finish line changed nothing directly, it was a boost in spiritual support. They need it all to beat that cancer ass bitch.

What irks me most about it is how it attacks so many. It's not a respecter of person. I'm sure the medical cats have statistics, theories and suggestions. I keep seeing races for cures, but I want races for causes! It was speculated that living near the Army Depot caused my grandmother and many neighbors to end up with cancer. Poor diets have been thrown around as an explanation as well. But what is the explanation given for babies having it? Why are children dying from it?

Today's news of Deryk's death reopened a wound that never really healed for me. I have been angry as hell, fam. I always get mad when cancer claims someone, whether close to me or not. My mind begins to wonder off into the physical, mental, emotional, financial and spiritual damage that cancer creates. I can't help it.

*sigh*

If cancer was a human, it'd be getting the well whooped ass of the century.

I'm over it.

Seriously.

Dig that Moonwalk, Son (EWF Post)

2014-07-01T20:49:00.001-05:00

Lord, Bobby Womack Done Left Us

2014-06-27T19:27:00.001-05:00