Urban Sista's Adventures

It's been a while...

2009-09-17T13:41:00.001-04:00

It's been a while, hasn't it? A good few years! I've recently started another blog - The Accidental Natural -- over at Wordpress.com. Come by and visit!

Urban Sista

The Urban Sista Review: Playing My Mother's Blues / The Coldest Winter Ever

2006-11-12T15:15:00.000-05:00

Back again with another book review. Until someone out there publishes me, I'm going to express my views and opinions of the books out there -- the good, the bad and the stupid. Luckily, this book, Playing My Mother's Blues by Valerie Wilson Wesley, was not too bad.

I finally finished the book this week after starting it about six weeks ago. It didn't take that long because the book was dry or stupid, but because it's hard as heck to find time to read. This past week, I've been on the bus and subway non-stop, so I need something to do to stop the crazy folk in the TTC from conversing with me.

Anyway, to the story. The plot revolves around Maria Dells and her two daughters, Rose and Dani. Maria had run off with some no-good scoundrel, Durrell Alexander, when her daughters were younger, leaving them to be raised by their rich and influential father, Hilton Dells and his sister Lucille.

Now, Maria, after a short love affair with Durrell and many drugged out nights and parties, killed Durrell and is sent to prison.

Fast-forward to today. Hilton Dells is on his death bed, Dani married with a child and Rose is mothering, generous Rose... but it can't just be like that. No one really accepts how much Maria's leaving affected the family until Hilton dies. Suddenly, we learn about the cracks in everyone's armour: Dani has been cheating on her cheating husband and is planning to leave him. Rose is in the arms of a married man because she just can't let anyone get too close to her. Lucille is not the battle axe auntie, but a loving woman who gave up her life to raise her brother's children.

At Hilton's memorial service, Maria comes back into their lives and we find out what the truth is about Durrell's death and how that death set them all on their individual life paths.

Honestly, it took a bit to get into. While I was reading, I was like, 'ok... so?' I didn't feel the connection between myself and any of the characters until Hilton died. I guess that was the author holding back. She didn't want to give us everything about the characters until the scene was set.

I like jumping right into a story, but I can respect a nicely crafted story if the author gets to the point and the point is a good one. The author made me wait -- I don't know if it was worth the wait, but at least she delivered on an interesting, sometimes too jumpy, plot.

Ultimately, I found out what really happened in Maria's love affair with Durrell and how his killing was so integral to her life, but to the lives of her daughter.

I wouldn't say it's the best book that I've ever read, but it was good enough to keep my attention.

*******************************************************

With Nas' baby momma (read a chapter compliments of Crunk & Disorderly) coming out with a new tell-all piece of smut and Karinne Steffans is now a New York Times bestselling author with Confessions of a Video Vixen (which I'll read if someone will lend it to me 'cause there is no way in HELL that I'm going to put down hard earned cash on that tripe), the mother of street lit has got to be reviewed.

The Coldest Winter Ever, by Sister Souljah, isn't a tell-all like the two I mentioned, but it was certainly the start of this genre. Unfortunately, The Coldest Winter Ever, which is a wicked book, spawned copycats which spawned this crap of the hoochie spilling her guts about who she had and calling it literature.

Shame on y'all publishers! When folks are trying to create decent books, you will publish any piece of crap describing how some girl is getting laid by celebrities across the States. Chupse.

But to the review: Winter Santiaga is a bad bitch in her own words. She and her father, drug dealer, Ricky Santiaga, run things in their Brooklyn neighbourhood. Winter is the princess of projects and you better do as she wants or all hell is going to break loose.

Ricky, not wanting his family to be in the crossfire of some underhanded criminal dealings brewing in the projects, shuttles Winter, her mom and her sisters, the twins, Mercedes and Lexus (ghettofab, folks, ghettofab) off to the 'burbs. Winter is vex. How is she gonna get down with her people if she's in Long Island?

Well, she doesn't have to wait long to get back to Brooklyn. Her mother is shot in a drive by and the Feds catch Ricky and Winter has to show everyone that she's a survivor.

Honestly, I love this book. I love the realness of the story. I'm saying, how real do I know it really is? I've never grew up in the project with a drug dealer dad, but Sister Souljah definitely made me feel like I was an insider into Winter's life and the life of bad gyals all around who are ready to slice someone with a boxcutter.

It's a cautionary tale of living the high life with no respect for self or the law and that even if you're the baddest bitch, you can and will come to a bad end if you don't get your life straight.

I haven't read another street lit book that captured the essence of the street... or a tell all book that just didn't smell like trash and corruption from the moment I flipped through it. The problem I have with many of the new street lit stories/tell all bios are that: a) they aren't well-written; b) they are out and out smut with no redeeming qualities; and c) they don't emphasize the cautionary part of the tale.

But they sell, that's why they are out there. If not one cared who Karrine Steffans screwed or who screwed her (literally or figuratively), we wouldn't have these books.

Happy reading!

False airs: I’m not fond of pretentious people

2006-11-10T09:24:00.000-05:00

I am back. I am! Work, sigh, is keeping me away from the blog. But I will get more regular, trust :)

I consider myself a pretty laid-back kinda chick.

Some things people do annoy me to death and make me want to pimp slap them into submission.

Other things make me throw them a side-eye glance and shrug my shoulders. One thing that makes me seethe with anger and annoyance are people who think they are better, greater or smarter than the rest of us. The ones who wear their ‘false airs’ like a badge of honour.

Over the years I’ve learned a few things about people in general:

Some people truly believe their own hype, thus making them think that they are all that. Although most of them don’t know a damned thing, but, of course believe they know it all.
Some people want you to believe their hype to make them feel better about their station in life. A lot of times, these people don’t know a damned thing either, but they’ve managed to fool a lot of people with their ‘false airs’.
Some people are downright igrunt (yep, that ain’t a typo, that’s how I wanted to spell it).

It’s a damned shame that more people aren’t transparent and just themselves. No, they have to go on about what they know, who they know and how much they know about everything.

There is a particular party promoter in Toronto whose e-mails, laden with adjectives, adverb, synonyms and all kinds of things is quite pretentious. Pretentious to the point that the so-called ‘beautiful’ people who he’s catering to can’t be bothered to go to a jam because everyone’s trying too hard to be all that.

Granted, I did attend a party this summer and it was nice. I think, more than anything, having Starting from Scratch deejay was more the reason for the amicable crowd than this dude pretending that he’s the representative of the upscale, sexy people.

And there are the people who can tell you about the latest couture outfit, hottest club or restaurant or the do’s and don’ts of networking, but chew with their mouths open.

Chupse.

False airs are not cool. You don’t have to pretend that you’re the s**t and try to make other look/sound/feel foolish. That’s igrunt behaviour right there.

So if you're getting uncomfortable or agitated reading this blog entry that because you are a pretentious fool. Stop it. It's not cool and it's annoying as hell and someone will call you out just now.

On another note, I read that 60 Minutes reporter, Ed Bradley, died of leukemia. I enjoy watching 60 Minutes, I think they do a good job reporting the issues, but I was enormously proud, especially as a child, to see a Black man doing his thing. He was a great journalist and will be truly missed.

RIP, Mr. Bradley.

The Urban Sista review: Do You Take This Woman?

2006-09-28T12:35:00.000-04:00

I’ve decided to do something a little different. While I was on blogging hiatus, I did quite a bit of reading… not just other folks’ blogs, but real books. Some were great. Some weren’t so great.

Being an aspiring novelist, the not-so-great one definitely brought out my ire. Why should you [INSERT POOR NOVELIST] get a book deal and I’m still praying, wondering, waiting and begging.

Chupse!

But, alas, reading what is terrible is just as good as reading what’s excellent, ‘cause the terrible ones show you exactly what not to do.

Case in point, my first review Do You Take This Woman?, by RM Johnson.

Now, this book has an interesting premise. Carla is married to Pete, but was once engaged to Pete’s closer-than-a-brother friend, Wayne. Back in the day, Wayne cheated on Carla and Pete spilled the beans. Carla, in her anger and disgust broke up with Wayne.

OK, so far so good.

Carla, in her loneliness and vengeance, married with Pete. Yes, Pete did notice Carla first the night all three met, but if Wayne is your bestest friend in the world, how low are you to get with his ex-fiancée?

That’s not too unrealistic. Maybe a bit skangy, but, some folks are lawless like that.

Anyway, Pete and Wayne continue to be boys although the both want Carla.

Now, this is when things get odd and I wanted to throw the book through the window.

Wayne decides he wants to connect with Carla again and they start seeing each other unbeknownst to Pete. There is no sexual contact because, I guess, it would be wrong, but Carla does begin to neglect her hubby Pete. Pete does try to get Carla to communicate with him, but she turns the cold shoulder.

So, what does Pete do? After two years of marriage to the woman of his dreams?

He goes the club, finds some chick and has sex with her.

This is when I screamed, ‘dammit Pete! I thought you loved the chick! How did it change so fast??’

Anyhow, to make a long plot short, Carla finds out that Pete did the exact same thing that Wayne did and she demands that he let her sleep with another man to even the score. If Pete doesn’t allow her to have her way with some dude, she would leave him.

Pete, guilt-ridden and ashamed, agrees. After a few weeks, Pete decides that Carla will sleep with the man he chooses.

And guess who jackass chooses?

Wayne.

Obviously, Pete didn’t know that Carla and Wayne had been seeing each other on the low, but, good grief. Now, you know Carla and Wayne were going to be married, so that would tell me that there were some feelings and physical attraction between the two of them. So, why the hell would you grant them permission to have sex?

‘Cause Wayne is your boy? Chupse!!!

All the relationships disintegrate into mayhem with Carla and Wayne planning to deceive Pete by pretending to sleep together… but then actually sleeping together. Pete, blinded by jealousy, anger, guilt and only the Lord knows what else, attempts to rape Carla and attacks and kills Wayne in a crime of passion.

By the time I finished the book, I was disgusted. I wanna know if Carla was all that, ‘cause if I was a man, I’d be like, ‘you ain’t fine enough for me to kill my boy over. Bump that!’

Really, it descended into unrealistic foolishness. Pete seemed to be a stable person -- a doctor at that who shared a practice with Wayne -- so, at some point, wouldn't Pete have said to himself, 'guy, you're going a bit insane. Maybe I need to chill the hell out.'

Carla knew she had been deceiving Pete all along by seeing Wayne. And Wayne knew he was screwing his boy Pete by seeing Carla. Why didn't anyone use common sense?

The book ends with Wayne dead and Pete even more grief-stricken and guilt-ridden. I mean, he just killed his best friend over trifling Carla. Carla, knowing that she was the cause of all this confusion, decides that she wants to be with Pete.

WHAT!!!?!??

Gimme a break. Your ass was just planning to leave Pete for Wayne, but now that Wayne's dead, Pete's your fallback guy? By the way, Carla's pregnant but doesn't know who the daddy is.

I wanna know where the police are and why Pete's tail wasn't locked up for second degree murder.

Now, I know RM Johnson is a best-selling author and this is my first time checking out his work. But, dayum! brother! This can't be the best plot you could come up with. The readers at Amazon.com dug the book for the most part, so maybe I'm out of touch.

Meh, what do I know... I'm still trying to get my book published.

I'm back :)

2006-09-26T14:57:00.000-04:00

Hello all… or just me, ‘cause I haven’t blogged in a minute.

I’m back and it feels good to have a place to vent or just talk a bit of foolishness every now and then.

Hope everyone’s had a great summer and is settling into the fall.

Summer for me was great. I got so much wedding planning done that now, it’s really just the details. I took a hiatus from writing as well – I heard you weren’t supposed to do that, but, hey, I do my own thang, you done know.

But now that the air is getting crisp and the leaves are turning glorious reds, golds and oranges, it felt like time to get back into it.

Besides, there are so many things to talk about: books – I’m hoping to do some book reviews, wedding stuff, life in general…

It’ll be nice to be back.

Talk to you :)

Farewell... for now ;)

2006-05-01T15:09:00.000-04:00

Hi folks!

I know it's been a dog's age since I've posted last. It's been a super-busy time and I've wanted to update the blog, but... I've been busy. I'm trying to spend more time writing book #2, I'm planning my wedding, organizing a new house.

It's great, but time-consuming. And the extra hour to blog in a coherent fashion can be used to write a chapter or research florists or compare paint swatches. So, I'm going on a blog hiatus -- I've already fallen off hard.

I've really enjoyed the blogging experience and all the bloggers that I've met online. The ability to drop into someone's life and read their thoughts and opinions is still so cool to me. I'll miss adding my two-cents to the fray, but sacrifices have to be made so that I can achieve

I'll be visiting everyone's blog and saying 'Wassup!', but for the next few months, I'll be incognegro ;)

Bye for now!

Thoughts from all over

2006-03-28T14:03:00.000-05:00

It’s been a while – I’m not on hiatus, just busy. These two stories stuck out for me over the past week:

'All-ages' incident sparks concern

Who else heard about the little 12 year old that was sliced in downtown Toronto at three o’clock in the morning? It was after an all-ages dance at a nightclub. Yes, a full nightclub. A nightclub that I would take my 30-year-old ass to if I cared to.

Chupse.

Sparks concern? It should spark giving the child and her parents some hard lashes. Not to mention the girl who cut her and the people who own the club and the party promoters. All of them need a tail cutting.

Man, I’m so disgusted by this story. Back in the day when I was a preteen, we had all-ages parties. They were at community centres and they ended by 11 or 12 o’clock. I don’t believe anyone over the age of 18 was allowed in, but some nasty guys would wait outside to pick up the youths when the party was over.

Now, I couldn’t even twist my mouth to ask my parents if I could go to a school dance when I was 12, furthermore any all-ages party. My mother would have shredded my tail if I thought to ask her to go to party at a nightclub that didn’t end until the wee morning hours. Although I’m an adult who pays my own bills, my mother still doesn’t approve of me going to clubs.

At these new-fangled all-ages things, it truly is all-ages. So, a 15-year-old girl could be grinding up on a 30-year-old man or be propositioned by a 25-year-old and it’s all legal.

Something just doesn’t sound right about that.

The fiancé says that kids are more mature these days and, while it’s not right, go to clubs and want to act like adults.

I believe kids think they are more mature and yes, they want to act like adults. But they are children and they think like children. A 12-year-old doesn’t know what to do when a grown man tells her exactly what he wants to do with her in the bedroom, although she may think she knows from all the Teirra Mari and Li’l Kim songs she’s heard.

So, this little girl is out at the club and has a run-in with another little girl who slices her.

Bare foolishness.

My question is: where the hell are the parents of children who are out at two and three o’clock in the morning? I don’t have any kids yet, but believe me, at two o’clock you better have your little tail in your bed. If you want to dance, turn on your radio and listen to the live-to-air shows like I did. If you’re out at that time, I will be with you and if I were to catch you somewhere you weren't supposed to be...

Well, it wouldn't be pretty.

Child Protective Services needs to look into that family, because if her parents knew where she was and were OK with it or they weren’t at home to know where this preteen was they need serious help.

Nightclubs need not hold anymore all-ages parties. Children are children and should be treated as such, not like mini-adults. So at school on Monday – if they’re little tails are even there ‘cause they may be too tried from partying all weekend – they can talk about “Ooh girl! You missed the jam at the club this weekend!”

Please.

And we wonder why kids are so messed up.

****************************************

Caribana group angry over funds

Now, Caribana is coming up in a few months and already confusion has started over funding. The City of Toronto is refusing to fund the festival because the Caribbean Cultural Committee (the group that runs Caribana) cannot give the city an account of how it spent taxpayers’ dollars last year.

This is not the first year that the group couldn’t show their audited books to the city.

So, Toronto has refused to hand over the cash and the Caribbean Cultural Committee is fretting. My take?

It serves your backsides right. I have no sympathy for them. The group put themselves in this situation by not doing the right thing.

How after almost 40 years of putting on the largest festival in North America, you can’t get your ish together and show the City your books? I am a taxpayer and whether it was Caribana, the Greek parade, St. Patrick’s Day parade or the Santa Claus parade, if you are using my tax dollars to put on something, I want to know where the money is going and it better not be lining your pockets.

I love my Black people, but sometimes they get me down ‘cause it makes all of us look as if we can’t do anything.

What the Caribbean Cultural Committee needs is a good purging and an influx of some business-minded young people. Trying to do things the way you did them back home ain’t gonna wash. Do you know those clowns got on TV news and cried racism.

Chupse.

Is it racism that someone expects you have clean accounting books to show how you’ve spent money? Or should money just be given to you and you do with it what you want without any accountability? Man, I hate that crap. Black people face enough prejudice without this bunch blaming their incompetence on racism.

I understand you’ve been under-funded, but this is how things work: You show the City your books and your budget and they can figure out whether or not what they gave you last year was enough.

If you can’t tell them what the hell you did with the money they gave you last year, what makes you think they’ll give you money this year? Because Caribana brings in plenty money to hotels and restaurants?

Don’t fool yourself. The festival will and is going on. Toronto is not trying to give up those tourist dollars -- oh no, that's hundreds of millions of dollars coming into the city. The mas band association is taking over and will put on a carnival this August.

So maybe next year you’ll get your act together and have a good financial plan for the city officials. If not, too bad for you. Get your stuff together ‘cause you’re not ready – after almost 40 years – yet.

Man, did you hear about what’s going down in South Dakota?

2006-03-07T14:21:00.000-05:00

This morning I was listening about the potential changes to abortion laws in South Dakota and I really started thinking about both sides of the argument.

You have your pro-life folks, who believe abortion is wrong for various reasons. Some people like to put all of us in the crazy Christian category – you know, the folks who blow up abortion clinics? – but most times, that is not the case.

I am a Christian, but that is not the only reason why I don’t agree with abortion. And I do know that my beliefs may not mean much to Jenny Smith who’s pregnant today and not happy about the situation.

You also have your pro-choice contingent that focuses on the rights of a woman to choose whether or not she has a child. I agree with that in theory. It is my body and no one should be able to tell me what I can and cannot do with it.

So, South Dakota Governor Mike Rounds signed legislation Monday (March 6) banning nearly all abortions in the state, setting up a court fight aimed at challenging the 1973 U.S. Supreme Court decision that legalized abortion. The only women who could get abortions would be a mother who’s life would be in danger if she had the baby. Women who have been raped have no recourse.

Wow.

Now that’s some serious stuff. It got me thinking about what I truly believe in terms of abortion.

Reading the comments at the Globe and Mail, I read many pro-choicers saying, a fetus is not a baby, just a collection of tissues. A fetus cannot survive outside of its mother, therefore it does not have rights and the rights of the mother are paramount. Abortion is not murder.

Pro-lifers said that a fetus is a baby and has a right not to be murdered. It has a right, as the most vulnerable member of society to live.

Of course, you have idiots on both sides who do not know how to debate an issue without calling people names. I ignore them because they have nothing meaningful to add.

My question is: if it’s not murder to have an abortion, then is it murder to kick a pregnant woman in her stomach and kill the baby?

Don't get all bent out of shape -- the question is extreme, but so is what South Dakota’s governor wants to do. The only difference in the scenario is that one mother wants her baby and the other didn’t. So, after you calm down, what do you think using that definitions of fetus used by both pro-life and pro-choice.

Another facet of the argument is rape. A lot of people commented about the number of raped women who would suffer because of this new law. I thought it was a really good argument… but how many women who want abortions are rape victims?

I would bet the majority are women who had consensual sex – protected or not – and got pregnant. As an adult, you make your decisions, some good and some bad, some wrong and some right, but they are your decisions. You have to take responsibility for them.

Look at it like this: any man who you have sex with is potentially your baby’s father. Any woman you have sex with is potentially your baby’s mother. And if you have sex, you just may get pregnant, whether you use a condom, the pill or nothing at all.

I’m saying, some people will spend three weeks choosing a car and one night choosing the man or woman who will be their child’s parent.

It’s your right to decide what you do with your body, but it’s also your responsibility to make choices that won’t adversely affect you.

If more people took responsibility for their behaviour, this wouldn’t be an issue. Plain and simple.

But we don’t live in a perfect world where everyone makes well-thought out decisions about who they sleep with. Many times we act before we think and we end up in a whole lotta trouble because we didn’t take 10 minutes to really think about what we’re doing.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that any woman who made the decision to have an abortion has made an easy decision. I doubt she’s happily jaunting around somewhere on a beach. I think that it would tear a lot of women apart, but they just don’t see any other way. They may be encouraged to keep their children but there aren’t enough social programs to help them raise these children.

How do decide to keep a child if you’re struggling to survive yourself?

Herein lies the problem: if pro-lifers want women not to have abortion, there has to be help for them. Real help, not lip service. So, real help meaning affordable housing, daycare, training programs, education and more to give women with children an equal chance even if the baby wasn’t planned.

But even then, some will still demand that this little bag of cells and tissues sucking the energy out of you be terminated. We don’t live in a perfect world and this situation isn’t black and white.

Everyone has their reasoning for making the decisions they make. It’s certainly not my job to judge anyone because I know I’m not perfect and, thank God, I've never been in this situation. But sometimes, you have to see the situation from all sides, then you’ll really see what the truth is.

Five things…

2006-02-15T14:28:00.000-05:00

Ms. Becky Banton tagged me earlier this month and here I am to answer all the questions you wanted to know about me ;D

Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.

1) ScienceWoman
2) Professor Me
3) Mon
4) BeckyBanton
5) Urban Sista

What were you doing 10 years ago?
Getting into the swing of university and figuring out what I wanted to do with my l ife.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
Writing and working.

Five snacks you enjoy:
1. Chocolate chip cookies
2. Chocolate mint ice cream
3. Chocolate cake
4. Coco bread
5. Doubles

Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
1. I Like the Way (The Kissing Game) – Hi-Five
2. The Most Beautifullest Thing – Keith Murray
3. ’93 Til Infinity – Souls of Mischief
4. Silver and Gold – Kirk Franklin & The Family
5. Be Happy/Real Love – Mary J. Blige

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire (can it be mulit-millionaire? A million doesn’t go as far as it used to):
1. Pay off my mortgage
2. Pay off my parents’ mortgage.
3. Set up a college fund for the cousins
4. Buy a serious condo in Miami, a townhouse in Toronto and a bungalow in Barbados
5. Stop working and write books

Five bad habits:
1. Cracking my knuckles
2. Buying too many purses. Sigh. I love them all.
3. Worrying about things I have no control over
4. Trying not to ever hurt anyone’s feelings
5. Questioning my ability to write

Five things you like doing:
1. Reading good books
2. Writing
3. Cracking jokes
4. Watching reality TV
5. Shopping when I’m not on financial manners

Five things you would never wear again:
1. Fluorescent clothing
2. Hammer pants
3. Cowboy boots
4. Platform shoes (when you try to look too cute you fall down the subway stairs and shame yourself.)
5. Banana clips

Four favorite toys (couldn't think of the fifth one):
1. MP3 player
2. My computer (although it’s bruk down and needs to be replaced)
3. Pen and paper
4. DVD player

Where's the outrage?

2006-02-09T11:31:00.000-05:00

Chantel Dunn was an upstanding girl -- she wasn't involved in any trouble and she didn't keep poor company. She had just received a promotion at work and, according to the Toronto Star, Chantel dreamed of attending law school.

She had dreams.

Unfortunately, she won't be able to achieve them because earlier this week, the 19-year-old was shot to death after a basketball game in the north end of Toronto.

My question is: where are all those loud talking politicians who had gun violence as part of the election campaigns? They were up in arms about how violent thugs were toting illegal guns and killing innocents in the heart of the city.

When 15-year-old Jane Creba was killed on Boxing Day while shopping with her family on Yonge St. it seemed that all of Toronto was angry and on the warpath to end gun violence.

Things are eerily quiet right about now.

Stephen Harper's too busy to say anything because he's organizing his new government. Paul Martin's quietly licking his wounds. Where's Jack Layton, champion of the urban dweller? Well, he's congratulating himself and his cabinet for winning those extra seats in the election. Where's police chief Bill Blair vowing to take down the criminals? Where's Mayor David Miller? Oh, he's at the TTC press conference telling me that I'm going to have to pay more to travel by stinking bus.

Where are the throngs of concerned citizens creating makeshift memorials at the site of the murder? Where are all the protests and marches?

Where's the outrage?

Man, Chantel's death wasn't even one of the top stories on last night's news. I think that's when I really started to get angry about it. Jane Creba's death was a hot topic for a good three weeks -- Chantel's been dead, what? Three days? And already it's archived as murder #3 or 4 for 2006?

Last night on CityTV, I heard about the Grammys, the young woman and child who drowned to death in Bradford this past weekend and the TTC fare hike before mention of Chantel's death.

It's kinda eye-opening.

I know I shouldn't be shocked or surprised that Chantel's death is now a footnote and didn't create the public fervor that Jane's death did -- although it is the same situation: innocent teen gunned down in public because she was at the wrong place.

It feels like people don't give a damn when a Black youth is killed. Maybe it does take a young white girl to die to make people care about what's happening. Maybe it's alright when it's only our children and young people being killed. Maybe Jane's death stayed top news for so long 'cause it was election time.

I hope not.

I hope no more Jane Crebas or Chantel Dunns have to die for people to remember.

I remember you, Chantel. And I remember you, Livvette. And I remember all of the people who are being killed over ignorance in this city -- that includes you, Jane.

Rest in peace.

Our children aren't puppies, madam.

2006-02-08T13:09:00.000-05:00

I don't know if this woman's decision to feed starving African children dog food was based in racism -- maybe I'm being naive. There must be some kind of innate racism to make her say that because would she have offered dog food to starving children in Denmark?

Let me not trouble the Danes too much as the militant Muslims are wildin' out on their backsides right now over so-called blasphemous cartoons. That, my friends, is another blog.

But while some people are screaming racism, let's take another look at the situation: millions are dying. They need food. This woman, who owns a dog food company, offered something -- which is a lot more than some other people have offered. The way she sees her dog food -- nutritious, vitamin-rich, filling -- is, obviously, the not the way others may see it.

Now, should she have offered dog food? Eventhough she says she eats it herself? Hell no. That's just insulting. Maybe offering feed to the cattle in Kenya to help fatten them up so the Kenyans could have a meal would make more sense... it would take more time and more people would die, but it would make sense.

Offering money to buy food would have been better, but I don't know how this woman's pocket is. She may not have the extra liquid cash to donate.

What I do know is if you are starving, your pride won't stop you from eating because your survival instincts will kick in. I've read about people drinking urine to quench their thirst because they just wanted to live.

So, this is a blog about life or death. If no one else is offering, do you eat dog food and live or do you turn up your nose and die?

Grrr...I'm frustrated

2006-02-06T12:52:00.000-05:00

You better believe I'm frustrated! How do you get a book published in this so-and-so country? I think I'm a good writer, but so does everyone else, so I knew it was going to be difficult. But I've read a lot of the crap out there that's either chick lit or African-American fiction and I'm not impressed.

But, damn! When you don't even hear back from people saying, 'dog, it sucked,' it really makes you question your ability to express yourself using pen and paper. I'm saying, send me a so-and-so format email saying my work should be used in kitty litter, that's all I'm asking for.

Dang it, I just need to put something out there before I go crazy or something. This is part of one of the chapters... Am I crazy or does it read like something decent?

After 15 minutes of fighting, we came to a compromise, we were going to spend two hours at the flea market, then we were going to Jamaica Ave., then we, said troublemaking children, wanted to go to a mall.

We arrived at the flea market and it was just that, a flea market. We got some good deals, but I had come to New York to spend time at Victoria’s Secret, Express, Limited and Forever 21. Those were my stores.

I loved them.

I wanted to spend some quality time perusing the wares.

But, no. As we took our purchases back to the bus at noon – we were all supposed to return to the bus for 12, I had a sinking feeling that we weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon.

Why, you ask?

Well, maybe because there were only six people one the bus. The rest didn't waltz back until 1:30 pm. I was blazing mad ('cause the bright bus drivers opened the sun roof and the noon-day sun was baking me like chicken wing).

Finally, everyone was on the bus with all of their parcels and we went down to Jamaica Ave. But the bus drivers didn't know which part of Jamaica Ave. to drop us off at. Oh, the smarts those two had -- instead of flirting with us at the hotel, maybe they could have looked on a map or asked the hotel concierge a question.

So, we spent a good half an hour driving aimlessly up and down the road. Finally, at 2 pm, we parked and they let us out. At first, I was pleased. There was an Old Navy and a Gap -- we thought, "mall!" But, alas, I was disappointed again. I spent three hours walking up and down Jamaica Ave. I got a pair of $5 shoes and some hair products for my sister.

It's now five pm on a hot, summer afternoon in NYC.

I should be cursing myself for spending all of my American money, but that wasn't the case. The bunch of unruly, disgusted, own-way brats we were rolling with wanted to go to Pitkin Ave.

What happened to the mall?

It's after five pm; the stores on the street are going to be closed. But a mall will be open until at least 9 pm. No, no one listened to my voice of reason -- that would make must too much sense. Off to Pitkin Ave. we went and, as we predicted, every darned thing was closed. So, now I'm tired, unwashed, vex and sour because I couldn't get to a Victoria’s Secret -- the one store I was dreaming of doing some damage in.

“Everyone!” Jane stood up at the front of the bus. “We’re going to stop for dinner.”

My face lit up because all I had consumed for the day was a hotdog, a Special K bar and some lemonade and I knew Debbie and Monica hadn’t eaten much more. The bus pulled up to a gas station and a Popeye's and we're told: "go get some chicken and come back to the bus."

I almost died.

Rudy and Co. had already called us 'posh' and I really don't think I am posh, but Popeye's at a gas station? That's just not right.

After the trip down, we couldn't go to proper place and have a bite? I had to get greasy chicken after I spent the entire day hungry and tired? You don't do people like that – especially people who paid good money.
The best part, the Popeye's was in the projects -- at least as project-like as I've ever seen – some rough looking guys were standing outside the restaurant watching the bus.

Oh no.

Not my little posh tail. I wasn’t leaving that bus. Sorry, if I sound scared for my skin, I am, but I ain’t trying to mess with no mean looking men outside of the Popeyes’ in the projects, OK. I don’t care who calls me posh, stush, too nice, whatever.

“This is crap,” said Debbie. She pulled out her cellphone.

“Who are you calling?” I asked. I was starting to feel faint from a hunger headache.

“My cousin. I need a proper meal. This is foolishness – I know this wasn’t a good idea.”

I can’t say that I disagree.

It's election day!

2006-01-23T09:51:00.000-05:00

Good morning, bloggers.

Today is election day in Canada. So, those of you who are eligible to vote, get off your booties and cast your ballot. To see where to vote and the candidates in your riding, visit www.elections.ca and enter your postal code.

I know, all the candidates are jackasses, but it's your responsibility to have a say in choosing your government. Do like what I intend to do: vote for the less evil of the three parties.

Regardless, the sun will still rise tomorrow and our country will continue chugging forward -- but if you don't vote, it may not go in the direction you agree with. Happy voting!

Damn Whitney

2006-01-18T15:28:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting at my desk listening to Whitney Houston’s greatest hits. Songs like I Will Always Love You, The Greatest Love of All, All The Man I Need and more.

Whitney had talent. Serious talent.

That girl could sing her tail off. Not like some of the girls now who have record deals and have no business standing up in front of a microphone.

But what hurts me is that we will never hear Whitney’s crystalline voice again. I mean, even if she cleaned up her act, my girl’s voice is raw. The last time I heard her sing was at the BET 25th Anniversary show and I honestly wanted to cry. What a waste of talent – her voice had gotten richer with age and now it’s sad.

I surprised myself, ‘cause I know most of her songs and I was singing along in my cube. Whitney needs to get off the drug (crack is wack, my tail, she’s on the pipe) and try to salvage what’s left of that incredible voice that made us sing over the years.

Whitney came out hard in the '80s, powered through the '90s and went straight downhill in the new millennium. Chupse.

So, I will continue to listen to Exhale (Shoop, Shoop), I Have Nothing and You Give Good Love 'cause I will be surprised if she ever comes back with anything worthwhile.

Damn Whitney, why does it hurt so bad?

Our lives mean just as much

2006-01-04T11:31:00.000-05:00

I’m sad about the state of things in Toronto.

How many young Black people do these little thugs need to shoot before the politicians do something? None.

It takes a young white woman.

Now, the shooting of Jane Creba was disgusting and, really, whoever did it needs to be buried under the jail, but did Jane Creba’s life mean more than Livvette Miller’s? Livvette was completely innocent, trying to have a little fun one night to get over her husband’s death from an illness.

And she was shot to death. Livvette left behind four children.

The politicians talked.

Then it got quiet and life moved on.

OK, not that it makes a difference, but Livvette was in a club, while Jane was just on Yonge St. Maybe Livvette should have known that she could possibly get murdered while tapping her foot to some tunes. No one would expect to be gunned down in a public shopping area like Yonge and Elm.

So, what about 11-year-old Tamara Carter who was shot in the face on a TTC bus in November 2004?

You don’t get anymore innocent than being a child traveling with her mom on public transportation… which is supposed to be safe. I'm sure neither Tamara nor her mother thought that she would have been a victim of gun violence on a bus.

But, you do take your chances when you leave the house.

Oh, what about 4-year-old Shaquan Cadougan? He was playing in front of his house when he was shot in December 2004.

Well, both Tamara and Shaquan are alive, thank God.

I really wish we could say the same about Jane and Livvette.

This is to prove no one was more innocent than anyone else. You have four innocent people who are victims of gun violence. We're not talking about a drug dealer who knows what his business involves -- although, that drug dealer is still someone's child/brother/uncle/father. But you make your decisions and you live or die with the consequences.

These four were are equally innocent, going on with their lives, doing nothing that should have put them in harm's way.

So, why are people more upset about Jane Creba? Maybe it's because a federal election is coming up and Paul Martin/Steven Harper/Jack Layton all want to seem tough on guns and violence.

All three can kiss muh ass, to tell you the truth.

Tragedy is tragedy regardless of who the victim is and I know I shouldn’t be shocked or surprised that people are up in arms moreso when a white person is killed in gun violence which, lately, has targeted Black people.

But just because we’re used to hearing about Jamal/Omar/Kadeem or whoever being killed in the streets of Toronto doesn’t mean people should get used to our suffering.

That doesn’t mean that politicians should have meetings about gun violence once a white person is gunned down, but could have cared less and only paid lip service when Black people are at the receiving end of a gun.

The politicians should have had their summit when Livvette Miller caught a bullet and her kids were left orphaned. Or when Tamara Carter face was blown through last winter. Or when little Shaquan had to fight for his life at Sick Kids' instead of going to school.

And don’t anyone tell me Black people are playing the race card – this society is based on race. It's very easy for someone who doesn't live in this skin to make comments about how we should feel or what we, as a community, should do without taking into account what has been done to our community and the disadvantages we still face as a group.

Many of us have done very well for ourselves, but as a collective there is a long way for us to go.

My thoughts and prayers are with Jane’s family and friends. I don’t know how they will – if they will – get over her killing. It was just so senseless.

But so are the killing of innocent Black people or innocent Asian people or innocent anyone.

Don't we look...

2005-12-05T16:26:00.000-05:00

... so fresh and so clean?

This weekend, I attended the Black T.I.E. Charity Gala to raise money for the Toronto Argos Stop the Violence - We Are Toronto campaign.

The gala was put on by the ladies of the Black Pearls, the volunteer branch of Toronto's Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority.

It was a lovely evening and, I must say, I was a hot girl... too hot for me to post a picture of myself up close and personal ;)

Well done, sisters!

Every day is World AIDS Day

2005-12-01T13:20:00.000-05:00

December 1 is officially World AIDS Day.

You would think that AIDS rates were declining, but from some of the news reports I've seen, it's not.

According to CNN.com, about 40 million people worldwide are now infected with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. About 3 million of them are expected to die of AIDS this year.

And, it's not just affecting people in the developing world who may not have the money or medical establishments to fight AIDS in their communities. No, my friends, it seems like AIDS rates are rising right here.

About 56,000 Canadians are living with HIV/AIDS and about 17,000 don't know they have it, says The Globe & Mail.

It's not a shame -- it's unnecessary. AIDS is a disease that only knowledge will stop. We all know that have unprotected sex means that you're putting yourself in harm's way. But we still do it. We all know that if you're sexually active, you need to be tested regularly, just in case you've been infected. But we don't want to know.

We're willfully killing ourselves with our behaviour, because we know what the repercussions could be. My mom always says, God isn't a respecter of persons. Anyone who partakes in risky behaviour can get the HIV virus. Just because you're strong, young and healthy doesn't mean a damned thing to this disease.

We expect someone who's suffering with the disease to look sickly and disease-ridden, but what, really, does someone with HIV look like?

Although everyone turns up their noses, abstinence really is the only way to safeguard yourself against AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. If you wanna get yours, at least, at the very least, protect yourself and wear a condom.

Stay safe.

Dang it, Black people!

2005-11-30T14:23:00.000-05:00

I’m back reading BlackPlanet to get some interesting point of views about life in the States as a Black person. Today, I was reading about some Black Muslims out in California who looted and vandalized an Arab man’s liquor store saying that he had no right to sell liquor to Black people.

Now, I’m assuming that this liquor store was probably one of many in an underprivileged neighbourhood and these Black Muslims were saying, enough is enough. It may not be ethically correct to go into a poor neighbourhood where folks are suffering from alcoholism or drug habits and set up shop to sell something that your own religion (from the article I read, the liquor store owner is Muslim as well) prohibits, but that’s between you and the God you’re serving.

But, is that a good enough excuse to ransack a man’s store?

Unfortunately, a lot of the posters in the BP forums do think it’s enough to be passionate about the Black cause to commit a crime. I mean, are we not bright enough as a people to make our own decisions?

Rosa Parks broke the law just as others did back in the civil rights movement to send a message.

How are you going to compare destroying a liquor store to Rosa Parks standing up for her rights as a human being? No one is pouring liquor down anyone's throat – we’re going and getting it… in droves.

I was in Detroit a few years ago with a friend and we were driving down the street. I saw a big line up of people and I thought, oh, the bank must be opening. Bank? Bank, my eye. Those people were all lined up to go into the liquor store.

Chupse.

so black people cant fight for respect??? we all churched up that we cant see the obvious??? we cannot turn the cheek no longer......its horrible a lot of you live your american dream thats cool congrats on your success but there are those amongst you that look like you skin dark or brown like yours and you let them suffer????... its a sad thing and a lot of you sit in your offices and act like you are holier than thou...put all of them in jail! wow.....you people kill me, i wonder when we are finally gonna stand together…

Well, I guess I’m a sellout, ‘cause the people who ransacked that store, regardless of race, need their asses thrown in a detention centre for a while to think about their ways. I refuse to say foolishness makes sense and sense is foolishness because I'm standing together with my Black brothers and sisters. I'm also not going to feel bad because I've made good choices and I'm well. We need to support each other, but we also need to be man or woman enough to say, 'yo, guy, that was not a good choice.'

So, only Black people should be allowed to wild out for a cause? Anyone see the movie Crash? All people have their own issues. What happens when the white folks next door decided they don’t want my little Black booty living in their neighbourhood and loot and destroy my home? Should I just say, well, you know, they’re fighting for respect?

Hell no.

I’ll be calling the police, CityTV, CTV News, CBC, The Toronto Star, The Globe and Mail and every other media outlet in the country to talk how I have been treated and demand that someone be thrown in prison.

Everyone has a reason – in their own mind – for doing stupid things. But the bottom line is: you can’t arbitrarily make laws to suit your purposes.

Man, we as Black people need to take responsibility for ourselves. Yes, we’ve been given a hard row to hoe, but not all of our shortcomings are the fault of someone else, like the liquor store owner or the white man. When you decide to walk into that liquor store and buy a 40 ounce instead of taking your backside to school or work, you've made your choice. You've decided what's important to you.

It's just like when people say, the devil made me do it. Nah, sir, that wasn't the devil, he ain't bothering with you anymore 'cause you're doing a good job screwing yourself up without his help.

I agree with these Muslims taking a stand against something they disagree with, but how they did it was stupid, plain and simple. There are laws. The law says you can’t go into a man’s establishment and break it down because you don’t agree with him.

Lawd have mercy! Yuh at work!

2005-11-28T10:56:00.000-05:00

Hello everyone!

Yes, after four months of work turmoil, I'm back to blogging :) Yay!

So, I work for a pretty big company and we have a really relaxed dress code. I roll up into work in jeans and t-shirts because I don't deal with any clients. It's me and my computer along with my co-workers typing away at various documents or Web pages.

I understand relaxed dress code, but some people are taking it too well and far. My sister (who also works for the company) and I were rushing out to get some lunch when she stopped mid-sentence and said, "lawd have mercy!"

"What?" I asked.

"Look at that!" There was a weighty woman ahead of us wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, but the material on her backside was bleached white. So, all you saw was this huge white bamsy with dark blue sticks holding it up. My mouth dropped.

"They need a dress code up in this place--"

Business casual is cool. That means I don't have to spend a big set of money on business suits. I can wear khakis, t-shirts, button down blouses, jeans -- pretty much anything that's tasteful.

Tasteful, folks. That's the operative word.

I've seen people busting velour tracksuits, blouses cut down to their navels, t-shirts with Bob Marley's big head on them. Heck, I've seen camel toes all up and through this place of business.

That's right, people, this is a place of business. This isn't the club. This isn't the jam on Saturday night. This is work. This is where you make your money.

Chupse.

There's a young woman who works at the company, I just shake my head. I have nothing again looking young, fly and flashy at work, but don't be a slave to fashion. She's a bright girl -- if she wasn't, she couldn't have gotten the job she has, but she looks like a H.A.M. (thanks, Fresh, for the terminology). For those of you who don't know what a H.A.M. is, it's a hot ass mess.

I met up with said young woman during my comings and goings at work and I could barely speak. She was wearing a huge, wavy black weave (which was an improvement from the heavy weave with the caramel highlights) and light brown contact lenses.

I love my Black people, but please, stay away from the coloured contact lenses. (I saw another chick wearing ones that were supposed to be light brown. They looked red and I felt like I was looking into the eyes of Satan. It's wrong. Don't do it.)

The weave and the contacts weren't necessarily ghetto, the outfit was. My girl was wearing a white fur jacket that covered her to her navel, a pair of tight jean capris and calf-length white boots with slits up the foot that exposed her skin.

Where do you even find boots like that?

Work is not a Lil Jon video.

For Halloween, some co-workers dressed up. Fine. I saw witches, princesses, etc., but of course, someone has got to take it too far. That would be the girl who dressed up like a Playboy bunny, bustier and all. Did I mention she was wearing tight sweatpants that had 'JUICY' on the back of them.

Good grief.

I mean, my work wear is quite conservative (today, I'm wearing a black pullover sweater over a black and white striped shirt, jeans and high heeled boots), but come on. Wear the crazy outfits on the weekend. When you're at work, try to look professional.

Here are some tips, in case you aren't sure if your attire is appropriate for the workplace.

Urban Sista's Work Attire Guidelines

If your belly is exposed, your shirt is too dang short and not appropriate for work.
If your jeans look like someone painted them on you and you have a camel toe or everyone knows the exact dimensions of your booty, crack and all, don't wear it to work.
If we can all tell that you've breastfed children 'cause we can see the stretch marks on your breast, 'cause your shirts too low cut, it ain't for work.
'Stop snitching' and anything that has to do with weed consumption is not appropriate for work.
Do not dress for the club and bring your tail into work. No one wants to see you look like a reject from a Sean Paul video. Pack a bag and change when work is done.
You are not Melyssa Forde or Vida Guerra, you're backside should not be the main attraction at your workplace.
If you're pants are sagged down past your knees and you can't walk properly, it's not work attire. And while you're at it, comb your dang hair -- how are you going to walk into work looking like ODB or Meth, with your head looking messy and unkempt? Chupse.
If you have to re-arrange yourself so that your bra isn't exposed, it's not for work.

Why are these things not appropriate for work? Well, you want your supervisors or managers to recognize you for the great work you're doing, not for how your ass is falling out of your batty riders.

It's great to be back blogging folks. I'll talk to you later.

Life without Black people

2005-11-03T09:20:00.000-05:00

Well, I can't picture life without my people. Enjoy and think about it...

A very humorous and revealing story is told about a group of white people who were fed up with African Americans, so they joined together and wished themselves away. They passed through a deep dark tunnel and emerged in sort of a twilight zone where there is an America without black people.

At first these white people breathed a sigh of relief. At last, they said, no more crime, drugs, violence and welfare. All of the blacks have gone!

Then suddenly, reality set in. The "NEW AMERICA" is not America at all-only a barren land.

1. There are very few crops that have flourished because the nation was built on a slave-supported system.

2. There are no cities with tall skyscrapers because Alexander Mils, a black man, invented the elevator, and without it, one finds great difficulty reaching higher floors.

3. There are few if any cars because Richard Spikes, a black man, invented the automatic gearshift, Joseph Gambol, also black, invented the Super Charge System for Internal Combustion Engines, and Garrett A. Morgan, a black man, invented the traffic signals.

4. Furthermore, one could not use the rapid transit system because its procurer was the electric trolley, which was invented by another black man, Albert R. Robinson.

5. Even if there were streets on which cars and a rapid transit system could operate, they were cluttered with paper because an African American, Charles Brooks, invented the street sweeper.

6. There were few if any newspapers, magazines and books because John Love invented the pencil sharpener, William Purveys invented the fountain pen, and Lee Barrage invented the Type Writing Machine and W. A. Love invented the Advanced Printing Press. They were all, you guessed it, Black.

7. Even if Americans could write their letters, articles and books, they would not have been transported by mail because William Barry invented the Postmarking and Canceling Machine, William Purveys invented the Hand Stamp and Philip Downing invented the Letter Drop.

8. The lawns were brown and wilted because Joseph Smith invented the Lawn Sprinkler and John Burr the Lawn Mower.

9. When they entered their homes, they found them to be poorly ventilated and poorly heated. You see, Frederick Jones invented the Air Conditioner and Alice Parker the Heating Furnace. Their homes were also dim. But of course, Lewis Lattimer later invented the Electric Lamp, Michael Harvey invented the lantern and Granville T. Woods invented the Automatic Cut-Off Switch. Their homes were also filthy because Thomas W. Steward invented the Mop & Lloyd P. Ray the Dust Pan.

10. Their children met them at the door-barefooted, shabby, motley and unkempt. But what could one expect? Jan E. Matzelinger invented the Shoe Lasting Machine, Walter Sammons invented the Comb, Sarah Boone invented the Ironing Board and George T. Samon invented the Clothes Dryer.

11. Finally, they were resigned to at least have dinner amidst all of this turmoil. But here again, the food had spoiled because another Black Man, John Standard invented the refrigerator.

Now, isn't that something? What would this country be like without the contributions of Blacks, as African-Americans?

Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "By the time we leave for work, Americans have depended on the inventions from the minds of Blacks."

Rest in peace, Mrs. Parks

2005-10-25T10:09:00.000-04:00

There were many before her and many after her who all fought for freedom.

Some fought by sneaking slaves through the underground railroad. Some fought by learning how to read although it was illegal. Others fought by giving up their lives. Rosa Parks fought by not giving up her seat in Jim Crow Alabama.

Thank God for all the people who came before us and fought that we could be equal -- whether you live in the United States, Canada, the Islands or wherever.

Don't forget what our foreparents have done so that we can feel free to work where we want, live where we want, marry who we want, be friends with who we want.

Rest in peace, Mrs. Parks. You lived a long life and you've done much good for your people.

Say a prayer for Kathleen

2005-10-07T10:51:00.000-04:00

Today, I read about an 11-year-old Aboriginal child, Kathleen Beardy, who hung herself in despair because she was being bullied by neighbourhood thugs. (Read the story here.)

Her father was arrested and beaten in front of her by plain clothes police officers the day before Kathleen took her life. From the news stories, a gang of neighbourhood bullies stole the child’s puppy and threatened to sell it.

Kathleen couldn’t take it anymore and climbed up a gravel pile to a half dead tree where she hung herself with the dog’s leash.

My God.

My eyes started to tear up after reading the story. I can’t imagine the desperation that a baby… she was barely alive a decade, was feeling when she made the decision to kill herself. She must have felt like there was no other choice.

And a lot of people in Canada’s Native communities feel like that (The Canadian Task Force on Preventive Health Care study found at here ):

Suicide rates in the Canadian Native population are more than twice the sex-specific rates, and three times the age-specific rates of non-Native Canadians (56.3 per year per 100,000 persons for Native males and 11.8 for Native Females).
Among Aboriginal males, the rate for the 15-24 year age group was 90.0. This is more than double that for all Aboriginal males: 39.0.
Suicide among northern Native youth has reached epidemic proportions. In Alberta the rate in the northern region was 80; in the central region, 71.2, and in the southern area, 35.3.
An extremely high overall rate of 80.2 has been found for 10 - 19 year-old Native males living on the northern coast of Labrador.
The 1991 Aboriginal Peoples Survey indicated that 41% of Inuit, and 34.5% of Native Indians on reserves, report that suicide is a problem in their community.

Wow. This is a group in terrible need of something – the way our society has pushed these people one side, off in reservations or barely eking out an existence in urban centres is ridiculous. Add to that the seeming hatred and disgust that some have for Native Canadians it’s not surprising that suicide and alcoholism are destroying the community.

People in Kathleen’s hometown of Winnipeg, MB are sick over the situation, but, of course, you have your rednecked Canadians who have to their ignorance and hatred of the Aboriginal community, which is one of the most marginalized groups in Canadian society.

One bold and very ignorant person from Winnipeg wrote this at theglobeandmail.com:

Nancy Stokell from Winnipeg, Canada writes: I feel very sorry for the family at this time.And for them to lash out at the police is natural so they don't put the blame on themselves for not being better parents.I know this sounds harsh at this time, but if they hadn't gotten in trouble with the law they wouldn't have been arrested.

Newsflash Nancy: when you’re a person of colour – whether you are Brown or Black – the police don’t necessarily need a reason to arrest your ass. Especially when you’re living in very white communities like part of Western Canada (which you would never catch the Sista in – I like to see my own people. I like to deal with my own people. Work with my own people. I like multiculturalism.)

Nancy thinks in her lily-white life that she can understand how it feels to be targeted. Nancy, I don’t think so. I don’t think that I can understand how marginalized the Native community in general feels. Man, I turn on the news here, I will see a Black person. I walk into work, I see Black people.

How often do you see a Native person on TV? And I ain’t talking about that crap Corner Gas? How often do you work with Native people. I’ve worked with one Native person my entire life and he gave me a completely different outlook on a group of people that I did not run into on a daily basis.

I don’t really know what to say on the whole bullying thing except parents have to be really involved in the lives of their children. And if the school is telling you your child is a bully or is being bullied, don’t say, ‘oh well, they’re just kids.’

Kids are cruel. And what one child can shake off can affect another child for life. Back in the day, my older sister was bullied. A big, lawless boy punched her in the face and broke her glasses when they were in Grade 3.
My mother made a beeline for the school and threatened to fix everyone – including the child – if she didn’t get satisfaction.

Well, my sister changed schools a while after that and went on to be bullied again, but she made it to high school where it got better. That little boy who punched her and broke her glasses (my mother wasn’t pleased, buying glasses wasn’t cheap back in the ‘70s) was killed in a prison brawl.

Now, who says that bullying isn’t something that needs to stop?

I’m feeling really heartbroken for this child who didn’t see another way.

Rest in peace, Kathleen.

Things that make you go hmmm…

2005-09-26T10:14:00.000-04:00

Good Monday morning, bloggers.

Maybe you guys can help me out with this: why is it as soon as you’re in a relationship, guys are all up in your grill trying to chat? But when you were single nobody had any time for a sister?

I’ve been noticing it more and more. And, I know, if The Boyfriend and I were to part ways, every darned thing would dry up and there would be a drought. Not an eligible, decent man would be found for miles and I would gripe and fret.

Hmmm… What do you guys think?

Romantic Realism: Notes from all over

2005-09-23T09:20:00.000-04:00

Over this summer, I've seen and heard so many good pieces of advice, I feel the need to share. Enjoy!

Give him a chance to miss you
Put down the phone, ladies. Stop typing that email to that hot guy that you met three weeks ago who hasn't had a chance to email you back yet... although you already emailed him six times... just to say hi... 'cause he may have lost your email address...

No, he isn't too busy to talk. No, he's not dead on the side of ditch (although, I've been in that predicament -- the brother wasn't dead, just being a jackass). He's just not into you! I know that's a big catchphrase, but it's soooo right! The big problem here, was you didn't give the man a chance to miss you and figure out that he wants to talks to you or be with you.

Last night I had a rousing discussion with The Boyfriend, Big Sister and Marlo Girl after we watched the premiere episode of America's Next Top Model (go, Nik, go!) about relationships and what happens when women become the persuer.

Sisters, it doesn't work.

Well, it may work for a hot minute.

Men, by nature, can be a lazy bunch and if a woman is blowing up his voice mail and showing up on his doorstep every other night, he's certainly not going to put in the effort to woo her. Why would he? She's doing all the work. She's taking the fun out of the pursuing and she's not giving him a chance to miss her tail. She's always there.

If a man is truly interested, he will make all the effort in the world to let you know he's interested. He will never be too busy to call, email or go out because he wants you. He will call in between meetings, just to say hi. He will return emails quickly. He will want to plan dates or outings, just so he can see your pretty face.

If you're doing all the calling, emailing and wooing, girl, he doesn't want you. He may tolerate you. He may even think you're kinda cool. But trust me, when you decide you're not calling him, you won't be hearing from him.

Some women will say, "but wait. Am I supposed to sit here and just wait for a man to call me? Whatever, Urban Sista, I'm a strong, powerful woman and when I see something I want, I go and get it!"

Go 'head, star, but I'm sure that things aren't going to work out the way you think. Now, no one's saying not to approach a guy you're interested in if that's your thing. I can honestly say that I don't do that mess 'cause it just doesn't work for me. Everyone does things differently. But once the digits have been exchanged, it is time for you to hang back and see where he's coming from.

I heard this saying about relationships: men take time to get ready; women are always ready. Man, 90% of the time that's correct, 'cause most likely than not, if you didn't like his backside in the first place, he would have your number. A man will take a number of almost anyone in a skirt if he's mildly interested. Ladies, you can't convince a man to like you or even to ask you out. If you force the issue, be sure, he's going run the other direction and you'll be wondering, "where did Pookie go? We were getting along so well!"

Yes, we're independent, millennium women who don't wait by the phone -- we have things to do -- but as Marlo Girl said, it's the laws of the universe that are in play. If you chase a man, you're not going to catch him, 'cause "dog chase cat; cat nuh chase dog."

How you find your man is how you lose your man
I'm sitting here at my temporary cubicle, looking for things to do when I go to thestar. com and read an article about Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. It seems that these two are now a real couple and Angelina's little boy, Maddox, is calling Brad 'daddy'.

Chupse.

Hopefully, Angelina knows that this fun is only for a time, 'cause how you get your man is exactly how you lose your man. Now, we all know Brad Pitt's MO. He was dating Gwyneth Paltrow and all of a sudden, my man dashed her backside and married Jennifer Aniston.

So, now Brad and Jenn get married in this elaborate ceremony with flowers and doves and the entire Friends cast and everything is happiness, love and roses.

Until Brad went on Oprah and pretty much said, if things work out for a while... A while? My man was already sounding like he was looking for something better. A marriage is not a leased car -- you can't drive it for a while then take it back to the shop. My man Pitt has a roving eye -- it roved from Gwyneth to Jennifer and now, look, Angelina is all in the mix.

So, history would tell us, that Brad is going to be all involved with Angelina, Maddox and Zahara for a bit and then, some other young, hot thang is going to catch his eye and off he goes. (Hearing Ms. Jolie's relationship history, she may jump ship before he does.)

But this is a great lesson for us, ladies. This man has a history of loving and leaving -- if that's your man, don't pretend you don't see it. If he left his former girlfriend/wife/baby momma for you, that means it won't bother him in the least to dump your tail for some other young hottie.

Old habits die hard, so if Pookie was sleeping with you when his wife was at home looking after the kids, think twice before you accept that ring, 'cause he most likely is going to do the same thing to you.

That's it for today, folks.

Enjoy the weekend!

Am I my brother's keeper?

2005-09-12T08:45:00.000-04:00

Over the course of a week or so, my little blog has been blowing up with people commenting on my thoughts and the thoughts of others about Hurricane Katrina.

Personally, I'm Katrina'd out -- I've overdosed on CNN and I'm ready to concentrate on something else. Not because the flood victims are no longer important, but because I'm hearing such drivel from some people.

So, these are my last thoughts on the matter, then I'm done.

I am my brother's keeper, no doubt, but my brother has to learn to take correction and look in the mirror to see what others are seeing. The same way my brother would ask me to be introspective and look at myself. As someone who doesn't live in the United States, I see the U.S. very differently than someone who calls the States home.

The world sees things very differently that those of you who live in the U.S.

I am my brother's keeper? Of course I am, but I'm certainly not my brother's yes-woman, agreeing to everything he says to keep him happy.

We need to call it how we see it and address the inequalities globally -- I'm not just my brother's keeper because we share a border. I'm my brother's keeper 'cause we share the same skin, regardless of where we live.

A tragedy is not moreso a tragedy because of where it occured geographically, but we fool ourselves into thinking so. Jesse Jackson said that Black suffering is accepted and ignored -- I'd say that we as Black people in North America have taken on that same attitude when it comes to Black people in impoverished nations around the globe. The U.S. certainly isn't impoverished and the horror that was Katrina was because of a rich government who could care less -- not a government who couldn't afford to care.

Many a comment was made that 'we didn't ask for your help!' What, are we six-year-olds who want to do everything for ourselves? Only an arrogant fool thinks he can survive in this world by himself.

And that's the point: we can't survive without each other. We've proven that once we start thinking we can things go to hell and we still need to ban together. This isn't Canadian vs. American vs. Caribbean vs. African -- hell, people, when other people see us they see us for the colour of our skin, not our nationality.

If we are to be our brother's keeper, we need to truly be our brother's keeper. We need to help Black people across the world. We need to tell our brother when he's acting the ass. And we need to accept and learn from constructive criticism.

You know, I was watching CNN Headline News and they had some crazy white dude saying that Black people in New Orleans brought this situation upon themselves.

Obviously, the man's an idiot.

These are the people, we as Black people need to come against, not each other. I still haven't changed my point of view from my first post on the topic, but this has surely changed my outlook.

Anyway, this is my last two cents on the subject 'cause it has completely tired me out.