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Showing posts from January, 2009

The Big Pimpin' Awards

I’ve always had a grudging admiration for pimps. Not because I admire what they do, but rather how they do what they do. What pimps do better than anyone else is to get people – or rather, women – to join in their own exploitation without feeling exploited. For the life of me, I can’t help but think there’s some weird confluence of science, genius, madness, and alchemy such that a man can get a woman to do for pay one of the most intimate and personal acts with strangers of all varieties of personal hygiene and then turn over the majority of the money to him so that he can live a lifestyle better than hers. If I had to put my money on a Harvard MBA or an Oakland pimp to successfully run a Fortune 500 corporation, my money would be on the Oakland pimp, every time.

Well, America, it looks like we’re the hos in this recession, because there are a whole lot of pimps out there who are exploiting us, maybe not with the skill and finesse of an Oakland street pimp, but pretty darn close. And I…

To Form A Mo' Better Union

“We the People” established the Constitution in order to form a more perfect union. President Obama speaks confidently and often of perfecting our union. As for me, I don’t think the language needs to be lofty or the concept complex: “We the People” need to get to work on an individual basis and take greater responsibility for ourselves, our fellow citizens, and our government and it’s accountability. I call this forming a “mo’ better union."

The difference?

A More Perfect Union: Asking not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.
A Mo’ Better Union: Don’t ask and don’t wait to be asked. Serve at the micro-level – your family, your friends, your community. Need is all around, and your service need not be grand. Thanking a military person for his or her service to our country, no matter how you feel about the war, is a start.

A More Perfect Union: Making our government make decisions we can justify to our grandchildren.
A Mo’ Better Union: Maki…

Can't You Feel A Brand New Day?

Sometimes music says it best . . . . God Bless President Obama and the Obama Family. And thanks to the late Luther Vandross for putting into song what is in our hearts today.

Black Woman Blogging

Everybody Rejoice (Brand New Day)

Everybody look around
'Cause there's a reason to rejoice you see
Everybody come out
And let's commence to singing joyfully
Everybody look up
And feel the hope that we've been waiting for

Everybody's glad
Because our silent fear and dread is gone
Freedom, you see, has got our hearts singing so joyfully
Just look about
You owe it to yourself to check it out
Can't you feel a brand new day?
Can't you feel a brand new day?
Can't you feel a brand new day?
Can't you feel a brand new day?

Everybody be glad
Because the sun is shining just for us
Everybody wake up
Into the morning into happiness

Hello world
It's like a different way of living now
And thank you world
We always knew that we'd be free somehow
In harmony
And show the world that we've g…

Time To Get My Hustle On

I came to California state civil service seeking financial stability (even at the risk of a huge pay cut), a less stressful and more congenial way to practice law, and the freedom of not having to do any rainmaking or deal with clients other than an agency.

Did I say I came seeking financial stability?

Well, it seems our Governor wants to cut my pay, and the pay of most state workers within his ham-fisted grasp, by 10% by giving me a Friday off prior to every first and third weekend of the month, starting next month. Mind you, the folks at the Legislature, who he has no control over (and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to control them anyway), recently received a raise. The state workers who work for agencies controlled by other constitutional officers, well, they’re not taking a hit. The University of California, the California State University system, they’re sitting pretty. But the rest of us, we’re pretty much screwed unless the courts rule otherwise.

Well, thanks but no thanks,…

What I'll Do Differently in 2009

A new year, a new beginning. Oprah’s getting back on the weight loss wagon and trying to help us all do the same. In less than a month we’ll be rid of W. The winds of change are a’blowin’ . . .

I look at each new year as the chance to get things right. To do better than I did last year. That’s not to say that I succeed, but there’s something about a freshly minted year that makes me think I can.

So, what will I do differently in 2009? Well, I have some goals and some resolutions.

My number one resolution? I resolve to not try to change people. I won’t try to keep my co-workers from drinking day-old warmed over Starbucks coffee. I won’t try to make my husband do his fair share of the cooking because it’s never going to happen. I won’t try to make young parents in my family realize that the education of their children is far too important to leave primarily to the government. I won’t snipe back at family members who launch verbal attacks on me or my husband. I won’t try to get my brother …

Don't Ever Ask A Black Man For ID On His Front Step

On the day before New Year’s Eve, BMNB and I had a, shall we say, curious encounter.

The weekend before, someone rang the doorbell twice, and both times there was no one at the door when I answered it. I thought it was just the neighborhood kids playing doorbell ditch.

The doorbell rang again on the day before New Year’s Eve. No one comes to see us without calling in advance since we live in the boonies, and no one had called us. “You get it,” I told BMNB. “I answered it twice this weekend and there was no one there.” I then did what the women in my family do when they come home from work: Run to the bathroom.

To say that the women in my family have weak bladders would be an understatement. My mother had a myriad of gastro-intestinal issues, a weak bladder being one of them. When my siblings and I sat around giving ourselves faux tribal names, I gave one of my older sisters the name “Princess Littlebladder.” She, in turn, gave me the name, “She Who Is Bitch.” It could have gone either wa…