It's been a while...
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
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!
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.
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!
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:
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.
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.
Hello all… or just me, ‘cause I haven’t blogged in a minute.
Hi folks!
It’s been a while – I’m not on hiatus, just busy. These two stories stuck out for me over the past week:
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.