Trophy Wife of the Week: Jada Pinkett Smith

is this week's baddest chick. The Trophy Wife has been a Jada Pinkett Smith whore since she was just Jada Pinkett, a round da way girl turned college student on A Different World. I had a vested interest in A Different World back in the day. As a kid, I just knew that I would go to Hillman College. How disappointed I was when I was told that it was not a real college. It was worse than when my cousin Ericka broke the news about Santa. Lena, Jada's character on A Different World, and I would have matching neon overalls an we would become BFFs, or in early 90s nomenclature, homegirls. Oh yes, we were real cool. We were cool until I found out that Lena had her pick of Dorian and Tupac. ( Tupac is out of the 2 men that this lesbian would go straight for,lol. The other is Dwyane Wade)


I eventually forgot about that. Yes, I also forgot about the terrible movies on the way, including Woo. I don't think that there was anything worst than Woo. But I forgave. Next think I knew she was all married off to none other than the Fresh Prince himself Will Smith. Ten years later, they are still going strong. Not only is this a good look for Hollywood. It is a very good look for BLACK families. In a society where representations of Black folk in love is far and few between, Will & Jada and the epitome of what happens when families "cleave" to each other.


We all know Jada the wife, the actress, and the mother. Jada also has a kick ass metal band, Wicked Wisdom.


She is getting her business woman on as co-investor in Carol's Daughter. And still has time to keep her husband happy. ( Wink*nudge*and all that cheesy shit) Come on, I'm not the only on that gets giggly when Mrs. Smith talks about all the car, kitchen, park bench sex that she and the Mr. have. To be honest, to know that Jada props her little 5 foot nothing self up on the stove to get in, makes my day. That alone would have gotten her on the the list. Maybe, not. It did not hurt, though.

Beautiful People

I have always been intrigued by beautiful people. More so, beautiful people that seem to be oblivious of their own beauty. You know, those people that walk through life and think that they are just regulars, but they clearly have an edge over the rest of us common folk. I am pretty girl, but I have to incessantly tell myself that I am beautiful. I've had to stand in my mirror and affirm 100 times and three times a day that I am beautiful despite...and/or because of..... These people,however, seem to take it for granted( if they even know at all). It's like they are engaging in some type of quiet rebellion. Are they making a statement? Their actions seem not to be actions at all. They ease through life with such a fluidity that it is a joy and sometimes a pain to watch. Every move is an abstraction waiting to be explained in layman's terms. There is nothing tangible about the allure of that person. Even the most loquacious prose fails to capture the essence of that beauty.

It suffices to say that I find this to be an inexplicable phenomenon. Every time that I see a woman that is effortlessly gorgeous I think of Cover Girl. I sing in my head Easy. Breezy. Beautiful. Cover Girl. I suppose, that's I what the ad people were thinking when they created that slogan. It truly invokes the image of uncomplicated perfection. The connotation of those words could not possibly work any better.




It's almost with shame that I admit that I often feel a need to announce, re- announce, and reaffirm my beauty at all costs. Even while engaging in casual conversation, I've been known to respond to questions of audacity with a curt " because I'm cute" daring someone to counter that claim. And yup, I am one of those annoying people that takes every opportunity to stare at my own reflection. My inability to pass store windows, drink from glasses, or walk pass a shiny car without checking myself out has led people to view me as somewhat vain. I even seek out at my own shadow to gauge whether my hair/weave/wig (depending on the day) and sometimes my body are symmetrical. It's not vanity, though, it's the compulsory need to self edit.

One day, I'd love to know what it feels like to just go about my day and not worry about whether everything is 100 or not. To be able to just go and know that "I'm good" is an idea that is so far fetched it seems impossible.

Please comment if you have ever felt like I do or even if you haven't. Are you a beautiful person? Maybe you have observed how these people operate. lol

It's Sunday...Post Secrets

This may make me a loser, but the only reason that I venture to wake up early on a Sunday morning is to see the PostSecrets. Well, there is also Meet the Press. But mostly PostSecrets. If you don't know about the PostSecrets you need to get familiar.

This one in particular touched me in a way that almost brought me to tears. "We accept the love we think we deserve." Talk about a truism. From childhood, we are taught by the manner in which we are nurtured how live is displayed. It absorbs into our subconscious. Andtada . We seek out that which we thing love is. If at a young age you are taught, as my mom would say, " don't take any wooden nickles"; then when seeking out relationships then you likely refused to take any shorts. This included familial relationships, friendships, professional relationships, and of course romantic relationships. Your youth set the stage in determining what you think you deserve.

Parents that give their children everything (material) have raised person that sees love in terms of possessions. Parents that are withholding in all arenas seek out relationships that are withholding in all arenas. That is what they were taught about love. Despite the wealth of self-help gurus that are out and about writing books, there is no hard and fast rulebook that dictates how we should be loved or how we should express love. With anything you learn from experiences.

I grew up in a household where there was nothing but chaos. All day, everyday there was nothing but yelling and pure verbal and mental abuse. The only representation that I saw of a "loving" relationship was of a woman that was belittled and submissive and of a man that was mean spirited and arrogant. Even when dealing with me as a young child, there was only criticism and disappointment. Then there was me having to keep it together. My role as a child was the crutch I supposed. I was the one that kept things together, the shoulder to cry on and the excuse for the fights.

I knew very well of the childhood's of my mother and my stepfather. By no stretch of the imagination were they pleasant. They bred two very damaged people that really should have taken time to love themselves before they ventured to love anyone else. Definitely before the had kids.

As an adult, I sought out these types of situations. I should say I seek out these types of relationships. I am usually attracted to the damaged women. I'm all captain save a ho. No really. One always knows when they meet someone with issues. There are always at least small signs. In my case, the signs are always blaring. But I seek these women out. I am always attracted to the damages. I need a woman that needs a shoulder, need a support system, needs to be some one's everything.

This was never more apparent than in my last relationship. She was truly damaged. She had a life that I probably would not have lived through. That made me more "in love" with her. That was the way I was being loved. I was being given the love that she wished that she had been given. I was also given the grief that she wish that she could have inflicted in retaliation for what she faced as a kid. So this "love" that I thought I was getting was just a substitution was just residual.It wasn't for me. I knew this and I accepted it ...because it was what I though that I deserved.

If anyone has a similar situation, please comment! If anyone has a differant situation, please comment.

Trophy Wife of the Week:

Who is the baddest chick in the world right now?
Of course it the the brand spanking new First Lady-Elect...Michelle Obama. Who's bad? Yes, every time I think of my President's better half, I break into the chorus of Michael Jackson's Bad. It only seems appropriate. And don't let me have glove handy...I am a Michelle loving, moonwalkin', America Lovin' fool. Oh yeah.

Aside from having a ridiculous body and sheath dresses for days, Mrs. Obama is amazingly accomplished in her own right.

From About.com

She has a B.A. in Sociology and a minor in African Studies form Princeton University and a Harvard Law Degree. She founded Public Allies Chicago which provided young adults with leadership training for public service careers. As executive director, she headed up a non-profit named by President Bill Clinton as a model AmeriCorps program. Later,
she joined the University of Chicago as associate dean of student services and established the University's first community service program. She was named executive director of community and external affairs and served in that role until her 2005 appointment to her position at the University of Chicago Medical Center.

She is also an amazing mother to the adorableness that is called Sasha and Malia. it has been said by many that knew the Obama clan, that it has always been assumed that Michelle was the portion of the couple that had been more likely to run for public office. If you have read any of my earlier post, than you know that I am somewhat of an oracle. I am stating it right now. Michelle Obama will run for president in 2020. Mark my words.




What I love most about Mich, I think that she has reached friend in my head status. So, yes I am calling her Mich. Although, she is so accomplished; she is still playing the wife. This is the role that she needs to play right now. It is achieved flawlessly. We are so inundated with images of the independent black woman and the single mother, that we don't now that Black love does exist. This is not a political photo opt. These two are in love. They are a family.







So Mrs. Obama is beautiful, accomplished, intelligent, damn fierce, and a genuine good soul. On top of that, I am sure that there will be lots of head board thumping in the White house. Michelle is the type of wife that is definitely on her J. Oh yeahhhhhhhh!!

She is a true Trophy Wife and a model for any Aspirant Trophy Wife. My most newly acquired idol is proof positive that you do not have to dumb yourself down or make concessions of you determination to have it all.

NanoWriMo Excerpt

As I promised in an earlier post, here if an excerpt from my nano novel.

Disclaimer: This is an unedited and unrevised portion of my NanoWrimo novel. I never said that it was going to be good. lol

My hands smell of memories. Like when I was 5, I went to a babysitter that we called Aunt Caffy. When mom would come pick me up from Aunt Caffy’s house after work, there was always a punch bowl full of candy by the front door. All the kids could take three Starbursts when our parents came to take us home. I was always that last of the kids to be picked up, so Aunt Caffy would let me take six pieces. All the other kids were gone, so it was our little secret. I guess it was her way of making up for the fact that my Mom was usually late. My presence often ran over into her family’s dinner time. The smell of baked chicken or pot roast, oh and the homemade dinner rolls always seemed to seep into the front room where the daycare portion of her home was. I looked forward to my mom picking my up so I could get my candy. I knew that was the only fragrant sustenance that I was going to get that night. I’d throw both of my little hands into that punch bowl and let the little candies was over my hands and fall through my fingers. For some reason, my second favorite Starbursts, the yellow was always relegated to the bottom on the bowl. It was just pointless looking for my very favorite, the red. After eating my six yellow candies, or sometimes a mix of yellow and orange, my hands would always have the sweet smell of that candy bowl.

Like when I would grab her hair in passion. I sometimes, secretly would plan our lovemaking on days that I knew that she had washed her hair. There is a major difference between dating regular ole' run of the mill black girl and a black girl with white ancestry. I love a woman with some good hair. It doesn’t nap up if she washes it often or after a long fit of lovemaking.

When her body is on top of me, I make is my business tilt my head up just so my nose places effortlessly into her short curly do. My hands cup gracefully around the back of her head as I push her slim supple lips into my neck. The scent mixed of ripe cherry and homemade lemonade enraptures my most acute sense. This is truly the sweet smell of contentment. These were the nights when the climax was always more enjoyable. The nights that I could inhale her into my spirit. I‘d always come with sensual ease. Her skin, the color of butter cream and the feel a welcome breeze, melds to mine and I release. Often times, orgasms were work. I’ll tell you, it was much more work than I felt like doing. I’d become a great actress on that accord. I am a simple girl. Mostly, all I want is that flutter between my thighs that is in sync with our heartbeats. Those nights are nostalgia.

The most difficult thing about this process is quieting the editing voices in your head. It's has been a truly arduous task in itself to keep myself from going back over every single word to. It is necessary not to do this if you have any hope of completing 50,000 words by within the 30 days. I mean, leaving your prose vulnerable like this is not easy. You have to learn ( or at least cope) with letting the words exist as they are and trust that although they are not perfect, they play a major role in your ultimate goal.

Nano in itself is a great practice in relinquishing control. EEEEKKK Not my strong suit.

It's Christmas...or Damn Close

It feels like Christmas in the Trophy Wife household. It is so exciting that there are only a few hows before I nan call Barack Obama my president. Even more importantly, I will be able to call Michelle my first lady. She will be the fiercest thing in the White house since Jackie- O. Do not get me started on how adorable it will be to see Malia and Sasha playing on the White house lawn with some random, newly acquired dogs. This is truly is a family affair. We are not only electing a BLACK president. This is a BLACK family. I'm sure that this will not undo all the damage that has been done to the representation of the BLACK family, but it is a hell of a step in the right direction.




On the night that he clenched the Democratic Party nomination, I felt an undeniable sense of pride in my spirit. I was on the cusp of tearing for 3 days straight. Today, I know we are about to witness something great. It's almost like I feel some type of filial relationship to my man Barack.

4 years ago when Barack won his senate seat, I was in college. Of course for Writing for Radio and Television class, we just had to cover what struck us most about that election. Always the oracle, I wrote about the young Senator from Illinois, Barack Obama. After that assignment, I went on to write several OP-Ed pieces on how I just KNEW that this man was going going to be our president on 2016. Okay, maybe I'm not a great oracle, but dammit I knew. I felt it in my soul. 2008, WHODATHUNK it!!!!


It is an amazing and beautiful thing. Right now I'm just waiting for everyone to wake up so that we can all run dowstairs our open out gifts.

Back on the Weight Loss Grind.

I fell off of the diet grind for a month. Okay, I more than fell off. I embarked on a month of emotional binge eating. I know what set it off and now I have put that portion of my life behind.

Now, is the time to deal with the consequences of the binge eating. I gained back all of the weigh that I had lost that month before. Today, that puts me back at 256.0

NOVEMBER Goal- 246.0

I do not think that 10 pounds in a month is too much to ask. I have done it before. It can be done again.

Sharing is Caring

I bring this to you by way of http://punditkitchen.com/.

Please Bear With Me

I am a brand new blogger and I am still trying to wrap my head around how this BLOGGER do-hicky works. It's not as easy as it looks. I'm guessing that I should learn some HTML and other valuable information. The look of this thing may change a few time until I find exactly what I want.

The Trophy Wife is hard to please.