AND WE ARE (NOT) LIVE...M.M.C.P.A. is. D.O.A.

crap.  i played by the rules, except that i did NOT have a backup plan.  i had no plan b.  or c. 

Tre found the background image for the website.  It is a quilting tapestry by a woman who designs, sells, and shares all things quilting.   When I asked permission to use the image on the website, she said that she has "... given folks permission to use my photos in lots of things but never for a web site.  In thinking this over, I don't think a web site is good place to use this photo, so please don't.  I really appreciate that you asked for permission, though, as many people don't."

OK fine.  So since I did indeed ASK, i figured that perhaps she might  show a little compassion and allow me to use the image on a temporary basis,  so that I don't have to delay the site launch.  This is her reply:

"I really don't want you to use it whether it's on a temporary or permanent basis.  Sorry,"

I know she has her reasons, but I think that is JUST DOWNRIGHT BITCHY!  It reminds me of the older folks who don't like the neighborhood kids playing around their property, just because, just because they DON'T LIKE IT BECAUSE IT BOTHERS THEM.

So anyway, the website is HERE, but the site is having trouble "propagating" (whatever the f*ck that mans, so you may not be able to see it), so i have pasted images below. 

I am offering a CRISP $100 BILL to the person who presents me with a USEABLE IMAGE OR IDEA FOR MY WEBSITE.   I know it's not a lot, but I'm on a budget, and its enough to by a good pair or shoes have a night out, or get ur wig busted n nails did, or something.


got anything for me?  send to earthlynx@gmail.com

( Self) Date Night - 10/25/2014

I was playing the Tinder the other night when the Sunny looked over my shoulder and noticed my profile pic:


"THAT'S FALSE ADVERTISING!" He boomed, clearly upset that I would not present "AS-IS." 

"Well I don't have any 'nice' photos of myself bald yet!" I offered, hopeful that he would be reasonable about this and see things my way.

"THAT DOESNT MATTER!" he insisted.  "THAT IS CLEARLY FALSE ADVERTISING AND YOU NEED TO FIX IT."

So tonight, fresh home from a (self) date-night, where i was grabbed and  maneuvered against a wall by another women (it was actually quite frightening!), I decided that midnight was as good a time as any to snap that new profile pic!

yes indeed, hijinks ensued...

so here is me setting up the camera, and, as usual, it catches me just a bit off-guard.  thank-gawd duck lips are in order and my gloss is on and popping. 

excited to show off my freshly-manicured-do, i try the "pensive-side look"




....i look bored.  so then i try the "don't eff with me i will cut you in a new york minute" look:

but i cut off my head, and the angle is all wonky and shows my deviated septum up close and personal. 

in a blinding flash of (attempting to get) creative, i strike several of my best "glasses are hawt and you know it" poses in rapid sequence:

 ...and then i start to get a little bit antsy and a little bit desperate, so i pop off my chair and start to love up on the camera:

 ...and thats when things got a bit weird...

 

but i think i am settling on this one: i think it captures both my my direct nature, as well as my ability to cut loose when the moment warrants it, given the right time and place, and temperature, and lighting, of course. 

and then i ate my feelings.

and it was good. amen.

"WHOEVER IS DATING ME RIGHT NOW IS ONE LUCKY SON-BITCH....

...oh right...that's me.   well gawd-DAMN i'm HAWT!

Now listen Linda, I know those many months ago when I said that i wasn't going to do before and after, but like any good woman, I am exercising my right to change my mind, because I was in yoga class the other day and felt my flank, and WOW!  So when i got home, i turned around and took a look in the mirror and  my a$$ looked GOOD.   And since its not getting any better than this, please just let me have my before/after moment, thank-you. 

MY FAVORITE: ITS CALLED "I DONT KNOW HOW TO WORK THIS THANG"

B.A. = BEFORE AGING (really starts to set in..)

D.O. = DATING OTHER (and consuming massive quantities of chocolate)

D.S. - DATING SELF (and lots of yoga, and still lots of chocolate)

 Thank you for letting me have that moment and now I will get right back to not caring how my body looks and feels.

"I’m (not Black) and Female!"

 This pretty sums up how I feel about the event I just returned from. 

The event was titled Black and Female, and it was for "ALL self-identified women and girls of African descent - GLBTQI, straight, gender queer, etc - who share in the experience of being black and female."

 Which I had a problem with right there, as i most definitely do NOT share in the experience of being black and female, but my very good sister-friend had invited me to the event, and I have been super-eager to find community, especially community with women of color, so I really wanted to go!  

If you read one of my earlier blog posts (and please go back and do that now), you may have picked up on the interesting relationship dynamic I have with black women – a dynamic that was established between black/white/mixed women waaaaaaaaay before my time (or your time).  It’s a competition of sorts, a competition that I have always been unaware I was competing in because I have never bought into my own attractiveness – it’s ALL wrapped up in the shade of my skin.  That’s it.  By the sheer fact that I can pass the paper-bag test, I have felt like the bane of black woman's existence since I can remember!  

Anywhoo, tonight, I suspend judgment as best I can and march my half-breed a$$ into that group of Black women just as sure as I belonged there!  Until I didn’t.

There were two girls in the center of this wonderfully inviting circle of black women…a younger one with lighter skin, I would say around 7 years old, and a darker beauty, very outgoing, probably 12 or 13. 

I see the younger one give me a thorough once-over and then turn and whisper to the older one: “She is not supposed to be here – she is not Black.”

The older one responds in turn “She is half black, so it’s OK.”  The younger one seems happy with this explanation and goes back to ignoring the group.

And it really is ok.  Because I don’t identify as Black.  And I never will identify as Black.  Which seems to make some people uncomfortable because they don’t know where to put me. 

Well, welcome to my world, mother-truckers and deal with it. 

Life is not Black or White.   

And neither am I. 

carry on.   

10-4: An Open Letter to My Psyche

(well, you're all up in here, so I may as well address each of you separately):

Dear White American Women (WAW): No, I am not having a Britney Spears moment, and I am truly disappointed that you would so carelessly and callously relegate/demote/judge behavior that is foreign to you as …as…(hold please for google search -): psychotic? indicative of an instability of some sort? Mental Breakdown Material? Just Downright Cray?!?  Do tell…in all ur great wizdumb.  And keep in mind: YOU are mainstream media’s target market.  YOU are America’s darling consumer, buying lots and lots of shit you don’t need in order to fit into a society controlled by men who don’t like you.  Some of them even hate you. 

Dear White American Men (WAM): Um, yeah.  Put the gun down.  This is NOT a call for some sort of revolutionary uprising, no G.I. Jane moment, nor am I operating as “collateral damage” in someone’s holy war.  Once the hair grows back, you’ll see I’m still that “exotic b#tch u wouldn’t mind “getting to know” a little better.   Now see though,  what I heard is that the 'darker the berry the sweeter the juice,' so if you are looking for the genuine “experience” you best keep lookin’ Mister.

Dear Black American Man (BAM): As much compassion as I hold in my heart for you over your (temporarily inhibited) inability to sexualize me on a dime, you have got to believe me when I say that I truly, truly did NOT shave my head as a passive-aggressive way to take away everything from you that you hold sacred about ‘your women’ and everything you feel you have a right to demand from us, as ‘your women’ in order to make you feel ‘like a man.’   I mean, black American men were the first men in my youth who expressed any interest in me as a sexual being – I can’t hate now, can i?!?

Dear Black American Women (BAW): Yes, I get it.  I am no longer a threat.  Carry on. 

Dear African Men (AM): Thank you for always finding me attractive, regardless of how I chose to wear my hair.  You get it: bald is a legit hairstyle!  Unfortunately, there are some “things” about the way I have been treated by African men, things that have stacked the cards against any of you EVER penetrating my misogynistic-sensi-shield.  So sorry.  

Dear African Women (AWWWWWWWW): Mommy! Where have you been all my life?  I love you.  I miss you. Don’t leave me.

xoxoxo

- ritz

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