End Of The Month Wrap-Up
It was in August of 2006 that I started blogging here. Much has happened between then and now, some of it not so bad and much of it tragic. It may be that at some point in the future I will be able to say that this year made or broke me, but right now, I can’t make that call.
There are days when I am full of enthusiam and hope. There are days when I don’t care about anything or anyone. There are days when I wish for death. There are days when I am optimistic, indifferent and suicidal–by noon. There are days that I sleep long past noon, awaken just long enough to relieve myself and get back in the bed until night.
Somehow I have managed to keep it together, though. There are clearly but one set of foot prints in the sand during this time. And they aren’t mine.
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So, Usher didn’t fall for the banana in the tail pipe and marry his supposed baby mama to be, slash ex dope dealer’s girlfriend, slash jail bird, huh? Each day, the story of Usher and Tameka grows more bizarre. Now I’m reading that their pending nuptials were nothing more than a publicity stunt to start with. I’m also reading that Tameka may “miscarry” any day now. How convenient. It’s been rumoured for months that the child she’s carrying isn’t Usher’s anyway. Just.wow.
Usher is doing the absolute limit in generating pre-publicity for his album, allegedly scheduled to be released in November. One must ask why. If he feels the need to go through these lengths to hype himself and his album, I think I’m a little nervous about him and his album.
This fool as been in Essence with Tameka, writing open letters to … okay, wait … I simply can’t go on without asking why anyone thought the following could possibly be sexy, on any level, to anyone:
Okay, so it’s an out take from Tameka’s photo shoot, but did Essence hire a stylist from Harold’s Chicken to orchestrate this multi-genre, multi-level, calculated catastrophe?!?!? This look isn’t progressive, my dears and good men. A Burberry duster worn with that good Hanes bra, mismatched knickers and young tights??? No ma’am.
I’m going to give her a pass on the flab because I’ve seen worse on women half her age. Um, you know what? I just lied, kinda. I’m not going to get on Tameka per se’ (It’s NOT per say, okay???) but on behalf of me, I am obligated to say that the photographer was wrong for taking this picture.
I can hear people sighing now, but save your breath. I know that not everyone is a supermodel. But these are pictures in a magazine we’re talking about.
As for Usher, even Paris Hilton could learn a trick or two about self-pimping from him. He should be exhausted. During some much needed downtime, I need him to:
a) Locate a barber who is willing to line his hair with something other than an ATM card;
b) Be quiet.
Writing open letter to people in People asking them to respect his privacy, that he violated. Seriously, dude?
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Late last evening, I saw one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen ever, in Target. She was dreamy. Peanut butter brown-complexion, flawless skin, sexy legs, perfectly pedicured (and shaped) feet, a simple, feminine summer dress draped on a 5′9″, size 6 frame, a C cup. And her hair was TV commercial perfect. Did I mention that I thought she was dreamy?
I looked like a total bum. I was running errands and my ultimate destination was Bally’s, so I felt ashamed to even say, “Hi,” to such a gorgeous, lovely women. Actually, that’s bullshit an excuse. I could have been dressed to the nines and I wouldn’t have said a word to her. Have I ever mentioned that I’m shy?
I know how gay that must sound, and, to some, completely unbelievable. But I am shy by nature. That’s something I need to get over. That woman could have been my future wife and baby mama! I’m in the market for both–now. By the morning that won’t be the case.
In real life, though, I have been thinking about hanging up my cleats, settling down and starting a family. I do want a son and a daughter, about two years apart. Along with a mini-me and a daughter, I want a wife. A woman who is to me a friend, a lover and a companion. A sane, God-fearing, mature, loyal, caring, intelligent, honest, sexy, compassionate, accomplished, educated, open-minded, childless, preferably (but not necessarily) black woman, to grow old with.
Where is she?