2009 and All that Jazz

It's been a while. I've been a bad blogger. I must stop this non-posting nonsense. I see that I have three subscribers. Whodathunk? Welcome. Take a seat and ride with me.

Now to business. It's New Year's Eve. I am never one to make a big deal out of it. Holiday's have never been anything of great importance to me. That it why I did not make a big hoopla of Christmas. I am equally as stoic about birthdays and anything else the dictates that I must be festive. NOPE! Not I said the cat!

However, since I've started ATW, I've been thinking all the way that I need to get right. I mean, I'm fly but I'm fly but I'm not at my fullest potential YET. Time it is awasting. I mean I'm gonna be 25 soon and I have yet to make the most of my 20s.
And the past 2 year have probably been the worst of my life. I mean it was hard man. I've been tested. If you were to apply a grade to how I've handled it, I would likely be a C+. Let's be clear, I'm a total over achiever. So this is unacceptable. Mediocrity has never been an option for me and it is something to which no one should aspire.

2008 was the year of complacency. I'm quite ashamed of that. But that's what's real. So 2009 is my Get Right Movement.

* This list is not in order of importance*

1. Finish losing this weight that I keep losing and gaining losing and gaining losing and gaining

I started this a year ago and I really should be done by now. Out of the 100 ponds that I'd like to lose, I've lost and kept off on 27. I'd lost up to 47 but gained 20 of it back. Then lost 18 of that. Then gained it back. I have since come the realized that I have a serious binge eating problem. I'm be all good for a while, then I get caught up in emotion binge eating. Have found a local Overeater's Anonymous and have a plan to attend at least one meeting. Weight Watchers is just not in my budget right now. Maybe in a few months I'll revamp that plant it the OA does not work. So I need to lose this 100 lbs or be a size 12...whichever comes first.

2. Stop saying the I am going to write and just write.

The need to become a successful writer has never been more prevalent then is had been for the last year. I have to write there are no exceptions. I have just never been able to tack down what I want to write about. I still really don't know. Nut in '09 I am going to venture into the wonderful world of freelance writing.

3./4. Get my crafty ass in gear /Start a business

These two go hand and hand. That's why I combined them. I really need to put alot more into my hand making thingy. lol. I really want to be able to work solely for myself by the time I am 27. That is not too far of a stretch I think, I am a Jane of All Trades and there are so many things that I want to do. This will be the first step in forming a global empire. * ha ha ha * sinister laugh

5. MOVE

I gotta go/ I gotta leave/ SO please don't make/ It hard for me

6. Eliminate neck and shoulder pain without the use of drugs or
surgery.
Since my car accident, I have been in chronic pain. I mean the type of pain that makes me suicidal. I am to young to concede that this is a lifelong issue and I refuse to be dependant on drugs for the rest of my life. I am hoping that I can achieve this through exercise and meditation.

7. Transition to natural hair.

Blog about this soon to come. For now, I'll just say that I have been off of the creamy crack since 10/1/08.

8. Become makeup maven.
Okay, maybe not. But I would like the ability to switch my look up without CLOWN FACE.

9. Make friends

Because I have none. I am a cool person, just terribly anti - social. More so I have low tolerance for stupid ass people. But am attempting to be more open. So if your are reading this and you are in the North Jersey/ NYC and you wanna be friends. Leave a comment. Or you can be my blogosphere friend.

So there they all. All nine of them. HMMMM. Just realized that there was nine. Maybe that is a sign of success. Nine for 09. Or maybe I'm just cheesy. More likely the latter.

I suppose that I should post my progress periodically. I'll add a widget over -----> there, detaling the progress.

I really need a 3 column layout. Gotta work on that.
-Trophy Wife, OUT

Open Letter Friday

Dear Person's Who Keeps Doing Stupid Shit,

I am always and rarely amazed by the stupidity of most people. I tend to wonder if this level of idiocy is innate, learned behavior, or due to a lack of teaching altogether. In any case you are too old to be so damn stupid. To let a drug addict that spent years abusing you back into your bed, no questions asked is rid-damn-diculous. You are 55 years old. One would think that you would be wiser than these knuckle headed young girls that are running around here with knucklehead no good men/women. He left you to lay up with another common dope fiend. When she got sick of him, you let him back all up in your mix. You did not even demand that he take a shower. After all the shit that you talked. After all the times he disrespected you. He put his hands on your kids. He just walked into your living room with his hefty bags. You simply cocked your head to the sid, took a drag of your ciggarette and said " We got Kool-Aid." as he walked himself to your room, took off his boots and demanded a steak with his Kool-Aid.

My grandmother used to tell my that a half-a-man is better than no man at all.

-SAD

Cordailly,

Conscious Observer of your BS

Necessary Evil...Taking a Break

Yeah, I know that I really don't blog that regularly anyway, but I am taking a bit of a hiatus. Tomorrow, I have to get all four of my wisdom teeth removed as well a a root canal. I know OUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! The thought makes me slightly suicidal. But it is a necessary evil. No one wants a wife with a fucked up grill. You most definably don't can't achieve trophy wife status with wisdom teeth pushing all up on all your other teeth. That is not cool.

When I come back I am in full GET RIGHT mode. I mean gym, job search, grad school...the whole nine. Guys Please pray for me. I may just make them euthanize me. I don;t have a great tolerance for pain, especially in the mouth.

Love ya,

Phyafly Jones

Open Letter Friday

Dear Bitch That Rear-Ended us at a Red Light that Night,

I rarely throw around the word hate. But I hate you. My life is forever changed because you felt a need to drink and drive. I am living a lifetime of pain while you ran overseas to get married. I' m not one to throw myself a pity party, but sometimes just moving is so painful that I wish I was missing my entire right side. On these days, I want to grab your bleached blonde hair with mousy brown roots and bang it against the roof of your Buick. Then tell, me to calm down.

Cordially,
Girl With Nerve Damage and Frozen Shoulder

Anyone with an open letter meet me in the comment section.

Negroes, Proposition 8, and Why it's my Fault

It's been a month since Proposition 8 passed in California. It has taken me since that time to really think about this and [attempt to] make some type of cogent argument that explains us how us color'd folks voted. It is always befuddling to me that anyone would be in favor anything that denies an entire sect of people their rights. It is even more disturbing to me that 70% of Cali's African American population voted for this BS. I am sure that this is not a true representation of the entire black community. But it looks damn bad. It does for us what the reemergence of Flava Flav has done for us. It puts a light on use where the rest of the world can once again say? "Do the black really feel/act/think/talk like that?" This brings a sense of otherness in a in a situations that is inhabited by the others.

More importantly than anything, as an African American lesbian, I do take a portion of the responsibility. Although, I am not in California, I feel that I have not done my part to quell the the homophobia amongst blacks. Hell, I have done nothing to quell the homophobia in my own home. Since coming out/ being outed about three years ago, I have never talked to anyone close to me about my gayness. In attempts to be less offensive, I've jumped to the far end of the spectrum and been silent. I now know how fucked up that is for several reasons. Why do I have to not be myself because the people that [claim to] love me may not understand? What type of sense does that make. This enters the TMI section of the broadcast...lol...I had a bowel blockage not to long ago and my mom put an enema in my ass. I mean she spread my butt cheeks and stuck that intrusive thing into my ass. It was hella awkward and I begged her not to. Her response was the response that all mothers give when they do some nasty shit like that. " I changed your diapers. I've seen everything you've got." Yet I cannot tell my mother that I am dating someone. I cannot tell my mother when my heart is broken. Sharing the joys of being in love is just out of the question. Censoring my gay quotient has become common place when I have interactions with her. Even when she is gay bashing, I am on mute. Each time I let one of these instance go with out a peep, I am contributing to the problem. Each time I laugh off a question from other family member about having kids or getting married, I am contributing to the problem. How can I expect black people to understand that the LGBT community are no different if I cannot say " I'm gay and I'm the same person that you love."

Understanding people's differences and and similarities does not happen through osmosis. It takes work. It takes relating on matters of human condition. It matters not that I will fall in love with a woman. It only matters that no matter who you [ if you are lucky] you will fall in love. You will be loved. You will breaks hearts and get your heart broken. You will have the butterflies when it is new. You will get annoyed when it is not so new. These are just what happens when love/ life happens. But we are so caught up in deciphering the otherness in people. In many of our cases we separate and highlight the otherness in ourselves in hopes of being non- threatening. We get so damn caught up in "not forcing our lifestyle upon others" that we for get that this is our life. How can we retreat because someone is in disagreement with our life. Rejecting my heart in essence is rejecting me.

Those of us that keep out mouths shut in hopes being non-threatening are just doing Black, the gay community, and ourselves a disservice.

Talking to Myself

The most destructive thing in the world is negative self- speak. I am the queen of this. If I even stub my toe on the bed I'm yelling to myself " YOU STUPID FUCK, HOW'D YOU DO THAT !!!!!!!" Now I am not at all stupid. And in fact, I am quite a logical and intelligent person. My sensible side knows that shit like that happens, but my illogical and super neurotic side feels like I should have known better.

Now when it comes to my weight struggle, that negative self-speak is at its strongest. I even named it. Pepsi. ( I knew an uber bitch in HS named Cola.) True story, she is no Sasha Fierce. Pepsi is a mean bitch. Her main goal is to take me down. She calls me "FUCKING FAT WHORE" every chance that she gets. Any semblance of purpose, worth, and will power, is not safe around Pepsi. As I just sat and ate that entire carton on Butter Pecan ice cream she was yelling her head off at me. Yup, when I get to shoveling shit down my throat, here she is to make me feel more shitty about the ass load of calories that I just consumed. But I don't stop. Apparently, I am a glutton for that type of verbal abuse.

I have always done this. As an adult, it had just gotten worse. I have gained an vocabulary that is rich in insults and damning language. College only equipped me with great ways to add a poetic spin to the hurtful shit that I say to myself. I mean insults of a Shakespearean proportion. At times I even say it aloud. Most people never get that I am talking reckless to myself. They just think that I am once again using my uppity pretentious language. I guess that if for the best. If anyone really knew what I feel about myself at times, they would most definitely think that I had gone ape shit.

I mean, no one would allow another perosn to say these things about them. But when its you, it's a whole different animal. I'm abusing myself. Now that I recognize it. It's time to change it.

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.