Showing posts with label Mary J. Blige. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary J. Blige. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Top Ten: Monday Night Randomness.



Hey good people!  It's Monday-almost-Tuesday and even though I don't have much to write about today my hands are on the keys like they have a mind of their own. Those who write know how it is. Sometimes you just have to write. I guess those who read have something similar but with reading, yes? Maybe? Hmmm. I guess.

Yawn.

Hmm. What to talk about?  Hey! How about a top ten? Don't mind if I do.

Top ten . .top ten. . .uhhh. . .hmmm. What witty thing can we discuss? Gosh. I'm feeling so random and silly right now. Hey! Let's just do this:

TOP TEN SUPER RANDOM THINGS I'M PONDERING 
ON A MONDAY LATE AT NIGHT.

And let me just give this disclaimer, people. On a scale of one to ten, this is likely to be a one point five as far as importance. You will likely learn absolutely nothing of great use to your life. In fact, at this very moment I don't know what this is going to be. (That's how it goes down when your hands just leap onto the keyboard and start going crazy with randoms.)

In other words, read at your own risk. If you're new and heard that this blog was really deep and thought-provoking, please peep my archives to the right which at times do get deep and thought-provoking.

Here we go.


#10  The Real Hot-Mess Housewives of Atlanta





O.M. expletive G.

I made the mistake of watching the reunion show for the popular Bravo series last night which, seriously? I . . .just. . .uhh. . .yeah. Man. . .let me tell you. . .I'm all for some fun and some shenanigans. But this? Wow. Two words: Train. Wreck.

Oh heck.  Let me just say what I was really feeling last night and what I said to the BHE:

"Dude. Is it me or is this a lightweight disgrace to the race?"

Before he could answer, Nene Leakes went off into a finger-snapping tirade to another cast member about how, "I'm RICH, BOO!" She was also rolling her eyes so hard that they were about to roll out of her head. As a matter of fact, she said "boo" no less than seven hundred and sixty two times. And poor Andy Cohen sitting in the middle of it all. Well, I take that back. Andy Cohen is the executive producer for all the Real Hot-Mess shows, so he was actually going CHA-CHING with every "boo" and every neck roll.

Okay, for real. I keep saying, "This is the very last time I will ever watch this mess."

This time I mean it. I'm done. Yes. Dunzo.

(Like as soon as I see part two and part three. Because I think somebody get's their wig pulled off or their weave pulled out. )

Then, I'm done. For real.

#9  "Mars Needs Moms. "



And Disney needs movie ideas. Obviously.

I watched this movie "Mars Needs Moms" with my kids on Saturday on cable. Essentially, Martians come to Earth and kidnap moms to suck all the mom-ness out of them to give to Martian moms. The story surrounds a boy who is mad at his mom, gives her some lip, and then finds that she's getting snatched up by Martians when he comes to apologize to her. Crazy, right?

It's an animated film, but am I tripping or is that a creepy concept? Obviously, the mom gets rescued but early into it, Zachary looks at me and says, "This is not a nice movie, Mama."  And he kept climbing all on top of me and clutching my neck while it was on.

Eventually it got kind of silly so the kids were fine. But old man Isaiah says toward the end, "Why would somebody think kids would want to watch a movie where moms get taken away? That's terrible."

Turns out that Isaiah would have been a good focus group. The movie didn't do too well and interestingly, when it was in theaters the boys had no desire to see it. They only agreed to see it Saturday because it was coming on on a cable channel.

"Hey kids! Let's kidnap your mom and have her nearly die trying to get back to you! No--wait. . . but it's okay. . . we're going to animate it with that creepy real-looking animation so it will look real but not BE real. And it's from the Disney studios so it won't be as bad of a concept as it sounds. . .hey. . .wait. . .where are y'all going? Why are y'all crying?"

Verdict:  FAIL.

#8  Mad love for Rihanna.



Rihanna. I'm kind of disappointed in Rihanna. Which stinks because I'm a fan of her music.

Unless you were under a rock, you saw the dreadful photos of the young singer after her then boyfriend and fellow artist, Chris Brown, tried to put her head through a car window a couple of years ago. Leaving her all kinds of black and blue. Horrible, I tell you. Just heartbreaking.

I guess he had mad love for her, alright. Dang. That just made me mad typing it.

Grrrr.

Well. I was listening to this catchy song on the radio the other day while getting ready for work. Harry likes the radio and I don't so of course this was while hanging out with him. So I hear this song. And yes, it's kind of catchy. So I bop my head and snap my fingers.

Actually the song is a bit risqué and nothing I'd allow my kids to hear. . . but catchy nonetheless. So I say to Harry, who's up with the latest music (unlike his NPR and podcasty wife), "Hey, who is this singing? It's kind of catchy."

"That's your girl," he replied. Which seems to be his standard cryptic answer for ANY person that I have EVER mentioned at any point in my entire life. If I say their name, they automatically become "my girl" or "my boy." Particularly if it's someone I don't care for.

But I digress.

Well, that catchy song? It's with Chris Brown. Yes. Yes! The same Chris Brown who tried to open a car door with her face not even two years ago. Singing about some sort of tryst or party that they'd like to have together -- with some non-G-rated activities planned.

As soon as I heard his voice, I froze and looked at Harry. Then I was like, "WHAT THE WHAT???"

And of course, Harry says, "Yep. Crazy, right? That's your boy singing with her."

And let me clarify. Chris Brown? My boy?  Not. Even. 

And Rihanna singing with him on a top ten hit now? That is WACK. WACK, I tell you.

That's all I'll say on that for now.

#7  They are young. We are not.



This song came on when we were at the beach and seriously? My tweenaged nieces and their tweenaged buddies all sang every single word at the top of their lungs. As a matter of fact, my eight year-old niece was right there with them.

But here's the thing. I had Never. Heard. This. Song. In. My. Life.

How apropos that it's called "We are young." Because realizing that a song popular enough for them ALL to know every single lyric yet totally unfamiliar to me is telling. Telling me that I am crossing into a new level of grown. Or old. Depending upon who you ask.


#6  Hold up. Rihanna, you did what?





I have to go back to this Rihanna thing once more. I'm saying, Rihanna! A duet? With Chris Brown? Seriously? Seriously?!!

Man. What a crappy message to send when you have that major platform and the attention of so many kids. Boo hiss. Dang. You get punched in the grill, the whole world sees it, and you even talk to Diane Sawyer about it. Then you . . .wait huh? You come out with a club-banger (oh, not a real club but a song that is in heavy rotation in clubs) with your . . .Ike Turner?

Chile please.

See? This is when I miss the Oprah Show. She needs to go on Oprah so Maya Angelou can ambush her as a surprise guest, rolling up on her all wise-like and saying something deep like, "My beloved little sistaaaaaaa. . . . . when you know better, you do better." Or something like that.

Rihanna. Rihanna! This is a FAIL. Boo hiss. Hiss boo.

Okay. Now I'm done with that, for real.

#5  Good times.




These goofy pictures with Zachary make me happy.  He loves to hop on my lap when I'm working or writing so whenever he does, I stop and play with him (if it's not his bedtime.) Or we do this. Take silly pictures with the "Photobooth" thingy on the MacBook Pro.





Love that kid.

#4  Off the fizzy drink!





Hey! This is almost the end of my third month off of soda. Yep. Gave up my once to twice daily Diet Coke habit because I kept reading things about how it adversely affects your waistline. And no, studies don't suggest that they cause obesity, but there is good data that shows that people who drink diet drinks have bigger waistlines. I would tell you what percent more, but it would break your heart if you love Diet Coke as much as I do.

As for me and my experiment? It has translated to five pounds lost without trying or changing anything. I do think not having soda has made me drink more water and just maybe has desensitized my "sweet tooth" a bit. Allegedly, artificial sweeteners send wacky messages to your satiety center and they also make you crave sweets more. Allegedly.

Regardless of all that, the five pounds I lost aren't alleged. I'm just saying.

#3  Mary don't you weep. 


Should I even go here? Oh heck. Why not. This post couldn't get more random than it already is anyway.

The crazy Mary J. Blige Burger King commercial. Have you seen this?



I just. . .uhh. . . .yeah. No. It didn't strike me as racist or whatever a whole bunch of people said when they saw it. I mean. She's the Queen of Hip Hop Soul for crying out loud. And she's using some hip hop soul to endorse crispy chicken wrapped in a tortilla with fresh lettuce. Dang. Lighten up, people!

But it's such. . .a bad commercial, man. Whose idea was that? Aaaahhhh. . .Mary.

*snicker*

No. Not racist or degrading or any of that to me. Just. . . it just struck me as. . . weird . . .and like . .huh? Hold up. . .is that Mary J. Blige standing on top of a table in Burger King? Wait. Is this Saturday Night Live? Am I getting punked?

Let me hit rewind and watch it one more time. Am I the only one who saw that?

I admit. I love her but. . . .this is sort of a fail for Mary. We've got to talk to that publicist of hers. Quick.

BUT. Burger King did not punch Mary J. Blige in the head and give her two black eyes the day before the Grammys. So as far as I'm concerned, get your chicken wrap jingle on Mary. But don't be mad when I laugh because for whatever reason you popping up out of that table his L-O-L funny no matter how many times I watch it.

(And yes. I've seen the spoofs which, to me, weren't nearly as funny as the original and that, unlike the original, bordered on offensive to me.)

#2  People change.






Hand over heart, not even exaggerating. My friend Lesley M. has been helped in the Target checkout line at least three times by Teenage Mutant Target Checkout Chick. And y'all!! Allegedly she has bordered on friendly! Yes!!!

I have had TMTCC about two or three times since our original run in. The last time, she actually asked me how I was doing. After I fainted and then got back up, I told her I was fine.

There is hope for this world, I tell you! Hope!!

#1 And hey! Speaking of Target.

Here's a little flash mob action for you. In TARGET, no less. Shout out to David M. for hipping me to this one.

Y'all! How did the universe know to combine two of my favorite things? Target and. . . a flash mob? Cannot. Even. I just. Can't.



You're welcome.

***
Now that I've thoroughly wasted your time and brain cells. . .  . Welcome to Tuesday!

That's all I've got. What do y'all have?

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Reflections on my son's birthday: All that I can and can't say.

Classic Zachary move:

Grandma:  "Put Zachy on the phone."
Me: "Okay, Mom. . .Zachy! It's Ma-Ma!"
Zachary: "Hi Ma-Ma."
Grandma: "Hi Zachy! Happy Birthday! Did you have a great day?"
Zachary: "Ma-Ma, I'm four!"
Grandma: "I know! How's it feel to be four? Tell MaMa all about what you did toda--"

::THUMP::

Drops phone and walks away to go play with his new toys.

Love it. And him. :)
____________________________________________________________


"Loving you is wonderful
Something like a miracle
Rest assured I feel the same way you do. . .


Needing you it isn't hard
With you I can let down my guard
Stay secure that's all I'm asking of you . . .



I wish I had words to tell
This feeling that I know so well
But I don't, I don't. . . .




All that I can say. . . .



All that I can say. . . .



. . is knowing him, loving him
showing him that I'm all in
living and forgiving him
I would do it all again. . .



. . .genuine seraphim
sweeter than cinnamon
heaven-sent gentleman

Synonyms for loving him. . .




 I love you, I love you
Oh I don't wanna live without you
You're all that I can say. . . ."

~ Mary J. Blige's "All That I Can Say" (written by Lauryn Hill!)*



Dear Zachary,

All that I can say is that being your mom makes me want to wake up in the morning. All that I can say is that my answer to Toni Morrison's question is YES. Yes, son, my eyes light up when you come into the room.  All that I can say is that your laughter sounds like music to my ears, and that I love your scratchy-baby-baritone voice. I can say that, even though when I was pregnant with you I terribly feared that I could never love any child as much as I did your brother, that I was wrong. So wrong. I can say that the day God saw fit to let me be your mom was the day He created a new space in my heart just for you. A space that is every bit as special and cozy and perfect and open for more growth as Isaiah's space or Daddy's space. And that I'm so glad that He did.

All that I can say is that my life is indescribably better with you in it.  That you make me desire to be a better human being. And that every day, even if it makes me cry a little bit, I make myself realize that seeing your face and touching your cheek and smelling your skin is not a guarantee. . . but a privilege that I should never take for granted.

All that I can say is that I love you, son. And that I promise to make my love for you a verb every single day so that you grow up feeling and knowing and believing and internalizing the love in my eyes that sometimes has to speak for all that I cannot say. 

Happy 4th Birthday, son. . . .
Mommy
_____________________________________________
*(Hear Mary J. Blige singing this lovely song here.)