Doing Me

I haven't been blogging much because I've been super busy. I started my own business. It's very small but seems to be somewhat steady.

I'm currently working on my Mother's Day orders and decided to give folks a quick peek at what I'm working on.

I've started a blog for those wanting to sneak a peek in my workshop.  

They Tried To Silence My Voice, But This Year I Shall Be Heard

Voter Suppression. What comes to mind whenever you hear that term? For me, it conjures up the ghostly images of Jim Crow; burning crosses, attack dogs, and insane voting tests. For these "modern" times, I think of those voting machines that switch the vote.

I don't know why I expect the blatant signs. Even though I've grown up in the South where civilized folks express their "distaste" for certain people with genteel language. The "Southern Code" really does exist and only true sons and daughters of the South understand it.

So why was I surprised to realize that I've been a victim of voter suppression-like activity. I'm not saying it was intentional. But it does make one wonder.

Today was my first time voting...ever. Not that I haven't wanted to in the past. I just couldn't. I registered to vote for the first time November of 1996 at the DMV. For some strange reason I never received my Voter's Registration Card. I registered again at the DMV in 2000. Guess what, I never got my card. I tried registering online in 2002 and...didn't get a card. In 2003 my mother inquired about my card and discovered that the Board of Elections had my card. I never did find out why it was never mailed to me. But I at least had my card. I missed the 2004 election (I can't remember why I missed that election). Which brings me to this general election.

Keep in mind, I received my card in 2003*, this is a 2008 election. 5 years, 2nd general election.

Today I went in for the early vote. Proudly whipped out my 5 year old card anxiously awaiting my turn to vote when...I was told I wasn't in the system. My name had been "purged" from the system. Another lady asked me when was the last time I voted. I told her it was my first and then she was kind enough to inform me that people are purged when they miss two general elections. I looked at her and said "I didn't get my card until 2003. I've only missed one election." She gave me this blank look, and I started reaching for my cell phone, preparing to call three of those 800 numbers for voting problems.

Fortunately (for them) I didn't have to call anyone. They got me back in the system, and I voted. All in all it took about 25 minutes. After 10 years, I'd finally cast my vote.

I admit I am partly to blame, missing the 2004 election (I still can't remember why, but I'm sure it was a good reason). But I'm sure that most of the fault falls on the local election board. Why was I never mailed a card in 1996, 2000, or 2003? Normal protocol does not require one to go and personally pick up their registration card. What made me so different? I can understand how some things happen...but I slipped through the cracks three times. COUNT THEM! 1, 2, 3 Times. That can't be normal.

The fact that no one wanted to acknowledge that I'd only received my card in 2003. The woman waiting on me couldn't be bothered to say sorry for your trouble when she finally gave me a new card. Matter of fact, she acted as though it was my fault I'd been purged and was imposing on her for exercising my right to vote. That was more telling than the fact I'd been purged (after fighting for a registration card for eight years) and never notified.

I realized I learned a valuable lesson today as I walked back to the car from the Old Court House; trying to ignore the Confederate flags that adorn the Redneck Shop** right across the street. We're not where we used to be, but we sure have a long way to go.

* I was enrolled in college 1997-1999 (TX) and 2000-2003 (NC)
** The Redneck Shop is a Confederate Museum and Klan Memorabilia Store

We Gonna Have A Good Day...Dammit

We gonna have a good day,
Ain't nobody gotta cry today,
'Cause ain't nobody gonna die today,
You can save that drama for another day.
--Good Day, Nappy Roots

The last few weeks have been hellacious. I've been dealing with never ending cycle of death (and illness) and drama. Last month, Hershey Bear, our 13 year old chow mix died. Okay, there wasn't too much drama with that. He just stopped eating, 3 days later he was dead. Not very dramatic, but traumatic for me since this was the first time I ever had to personally deal with a pet's death. Not that I had time to grieve or do something dramatic, because we had to deal with a major flea infestation with the two remaining pets. Oh yeah, and a cousin got shot and killed.

A couple of weeks ago, Mother's friend was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia (again).
This was like the 4th time he'd been in the hospital with pneumonia in less than a year. We had a few days of calls back and forth (drama)...then he died(more drama). Then more calls back and forth for a week and a half before the funeral (a whole heap of drama). During the period leading to the funeral; we found out that yet another cousin had been shot and killed, this time a drive-by. And...another cousin's cancer had come back.

We barely had time to change out of our black dresses when the phone rings. This time, it's a church member. She just put her husband in the hospital. Sad thing is, he's already undergoing treatment for cancer. The next day, we get a call...they had to do emergency surgery, and it doesn't look good. So, he's in critical condition and if there are any changes, we'll know in the next 72 hours. So we're all holding our breath and praying for the next 3 days (and dealing with more drama).

To add insult to injury, we find out that a cousin's funeral was just Sunday (we didn't even know she'd died) and another cousin had died the week before. How much more can a Sista stand?

So today, I'm going to have a good day. I'm going to go to Sonic, get a half-priced happy hour slush, take the phone off the hook, and have a good day.

Please Lawd, Don't Let This Be The Backstreet Boys In 15 Years

I saw the New Kids on The Block video "Summertime" around 4 this morning. I had to check to make sure it wasn't some weird behind dream. It wasn't.

Let me start by saying, I'm glad Danny finally grew into his face. Back in the day, he was considered the "ugly" one but time was finally kind to him. Jon looks old, and Jordan and Joey are proof that looks sometimes fade "like a bad sunset".

The song is very bubblegum for a group of 40 somethings. I was expecting them have a more mature sounding song. But hey, whatever works for them. I'm mad they had to dust off Backstreet Boys dance moves from '98 though. That's just wrong on so many levels.

I'm just glad New Edition reunions sound and look so much better (when Bobby is sober and acting like he has some sense).

The Mathematics of Love

Oh this just made my week. One of my favorite songs from the children's math show, Square One. Now if only I could find the "Tapping Out the Rhythm" and the "Infinity" song.

Still Don't Get Myspace

I have never understood the appeal of Myspace. Even way back when it was a hang out for teens and pedophiles I couldn't see the point of it. Now everyone and their momma has a Myspace page. Everywhere I turn someone is preaching the values of having a Myspace page. Guess what, I still don't get it.

Last month my stupid behind cousin called me and had the nerve to suggest I set up at Myspace. This is the way the conversation went:

SAC : Man Ginny, You need to get on Myspace.

Me: Why?

SAC: Networking man, networking. I got this writer, spoken
word poet guy that friended (still trying to figure out if this is an
actual term) me.

Me: Uhh huh. So how exactly does this count as networking. I mean do
you exchange email, chat online or anything? Has he hooked you up with
some of his contacts or vice versa?

SAC: Uhh, no. Well actually, I haven't seen or spoke with him
since he friended me.

Me: Oh yes that's networking at its best.

SAC: Seriously Ginny, I'm just saying you should try it.

Me: I'm sorry but until someone can explain how having Peaches69
(sorry if that's an actual name) as a friend with the standard
hootchie club photo with her girls counts as networking, I'm going to have
to pass.

I attended an online workshop where the presenter repeatedly stressed we should get a Myspace page but still never truly explained it. The closest I've gotten to a decent explanation was Candice. She uses it to email newsletters and alerts or something to that effect.

I guess I'm the last stick in the mud refusing to join Myspace.

Since I'm not going to any Strip Clubs

Happy Birthday to ME

Somebody Cue the Music

Happy Birthday
By Stevie Wonder

Already Missing You

Just when we finally get over the loss of "Luther" this happens.

We will miss you Gerald!

Already Missing You
By Gerald LeVert

My Thoughts on the Elections...

Everybody Rejoice

Robin Thicke

I'm really feeling Robin Thicke right now. His latest video "Lost Without You" is my Video of the Week. I am also featuring some of his older work (When he was using the name Thicke) on the jukebox.

Keeping it Real Moment: BET Awards and Gasoline Drawers

I normally don't bother to watch the BET Awards because I can't stand watching ghetto behind people patting themselves on the back for 2 hours. Oh, I don't like some of the celebrities either. I made an exception this year since Prince was going to perform and Chaka Khan was receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award (sing it with me I'm Every Woman). I was dismayed to discover that they had now added a red carpet show, 2 more hours of Negroes with no talent patting themselves on the back while kissing up to the so-called talents. Here's my take of the award show:

Chaka Khan - Her set was great with Prince (that purple outfit was hot) on guitar and Stevie [Wonder] on keyboard. India Arie and Yolanda sang some. Umm, I can't remember which song Yolanda did (which tells you just how great it was), but she should just stick with the gospel.

Prince - The Purple Wonder's performance at the end was hot, although he could have done without tossing the mic to Will.I. Aint uhh, I mean Am. Will.I. Am. (Gag). I don't know why but he just doesn't set well with my spirit. Hopefully, Prince won't make that mistake twice.

Highlight of the Night - Kirk Franklin won the Best Gospel Award. He failed to start his speech with the "I'd like to thank/give honor to God routine." Instead he, thanked his wife, kids, labels, singers, musicians (wait for it...) then ends with "Jesus, I thank you not with my words but by the way I live". For those of you missing the punchline, Franklin admitted he was addicted to porn last November on Oprah. First thing I said after hearing that speech was "What, does that mean he was thanking God while he was whacking off in the hotel room?"

Yeah, I know. I'm going to hell with gasoline soaked drawers.

Update: Gah, now there's an hour long back patting show, Black Carpet Lounge. See this is what happens when you let a bunch of ghetto behind people have their own channel.

Unfunny, Uncouth, and Unread

"Ain't it funny, the way people act when they make a little money?"

Mary Janice Davidson, Authors Behaving Badly repeat offender, is at it again. This time she attacked Indida. I am posting highlights of the comment but follow the link to see it in its entirety.

MJD writes:

Stop writing? Oh my dear, not even if you stuck a gun in my ear. Which,
given the frequency and venom of your cyber-tantrums, wouldn't surprise me.
Anyone who works herself into a slavering rage so easily probably has felony
assault on her to-do list

She follows with:

As someone mildly concerned for your health (your blood pressure must be on
the moon! do have your local G.P. give it a check; I fear you might stroke out
if we queen bitches don't burst into flames at your command) I tried to quell
the giggles as I read your tantrum du jour.

These comments offended me. Implying that someone has criminal tendencies, hoping someone experiences personal injury and poor health. What kind of person is this? Normal people don't behave in such a fashion. Sane people don't spew maliciousness to the point of being downright evil. As my mother would say, "There has to be a demon in her".

I wasn't going to say anything at first since this isn't my fight. I felt pointing out this behavior would just give MJD the attention she so obviously craves. But then I realized that by not speaking my mind, I was allowing myself to become subjugated by these writers. We need to let these individuals know that this type of behavior is not ACCEPTABLE. It's not cute, it's not funny. It's just WRONG.

MJD has repeatedly made reference to her blue collar roots. She seems to have confused blue collar with trash. Blue collar folk are simple, hard working people who may not have a lot, but are grateful for what they have. Blue collar people may not have a lot of formal education, but they do have a deeply ingrained sense of right and wrong--qualities MJD obviously lacks. While I am hesitant to cast aspersion on the rest of MJD's family, I will say that her comments have led me to the conclusion that SHE is pure filth.

Her final statement:

I'm the Queen Bitch over here in the corner, the one saying "Ha. Ha. HA." while she reads her bank statement.

That may be true for now, but how long will that last? How long before readers become disenchanted with MJD's personality? Every time she runs off at the mouth, more and more readers vow to never buy her books. How long before it begins to reflect on her bank statement? Karma is a strange thing. You never know how or when your past transgressions will come back to bite you in the butt.

Changing Outfits and Sunday Soul Food

For some insane reason, I felt the need to change my blog layout. I don't know what I was thinking. I've lost a lot of my limited religion during this process. Please bear with me while I complete this update... Hey at least I'm posting again.

I've decided to add a music feature to my "New and Improved" blog. Today debuts what I call "Sunday Soul Food". Today's helping is "Lord, How I Need You" by Ann Nesby. Heaven knows I need him right now.

I knew they never cleaned those classrooms in school!

Just when I though Wendie Schweikert's 15 minutes of infamy were up; I spotted this article DNA in teacher's classroom matches a student. Those poor children. Those poor parents who are now wondering where all that DNA was located in the classroom.

Easter: The Good, the Bad, and the crap that will have you seeing a therapist 20 years later

GOOD
Candy - That's a given. To be more specific I think of Cadbury Creme Eggs (I haven't bought any this year, yet), Cadbury Mini Eggs, and Mother's crazed quest to buy as many Black Jellybeans (Yuck!) as she can find.

BAD
Easter Egg Hunts - I don't know who the genius was that started this tradition, but let me give you a little Public Service Announcement.

It's not a good idea to hide perishable items such as, BOILED EGGS outside for several hours, then send innocent children looking for them. Especially if you live in warm areas, like say, South Carolina. Trust me on this. Those of you using plastic eggs, please, please, please, for the love of all things chocolate, stop putting foil wrapped chocolates in the eggs. In case you haven't noticed, chocolate melts, and isn't fun trying to suck chocolate off of foil.

Things your child will be discussing in therapy 20 years later
Easter Plays - I can't even begin to touch on the horror that is the annual Easter Play. I was in several church productions, but the one that stands out the most is His Fleece was White as Snow. I had the lead role of "Dinky the Donkey" (You can't make this stuff up) for 2 years. I still cringe whenever I see donkeys, mules, and hear the word "dinky".

What "wonderful" memories do you have of Easter?

*Picture found at strangecosmos.com

That's Just Wrong

Someone was directed to my blog by searching "Ginny having sex". Is that some kind of new fetish going around? Videos of women named Ginny engaging in sex? How jacked up does your life have to be to get your jollies from the name Ginny? Seriously!

Ok, maybe I wouldn't be so disturbed if I didn't have a celibate lifestyle. Or maybe it's just plain creepy. Now I am going to have to nightmares of perverts visiting my blog. Eww, Eww, Eww.

Whatever Happened to...

Brenda Ritchie. For those of you that don't know/remember the story. Brenda Ritchie was married to Lionel Ritchie. Lionel was cheating on her and she went to the other woman's apartment and whipped both the "Other Woman" and Lionel's azz.

Is she still around? Is she still planting her foot up people's behinds?

See, What Had Happened Was

Have you ever noticed that whenever a person uses a variation of "What had happened was..." they are telling a lie? If it's not a complete lie, then a misrepresentation of the truth. Think about it.

I never really noticed it until I was in college. One event in particular drove that fact home. The college I was attended has failed to enter all the Financial Aid information in the system; which resulted in over half of the student body being kicked out of the system. Many of us were in danger of losing our housing in the dorms unless we had the mess straightened out. The problem was that only ONE person could fix the problem in the system and she didn't like to work. We camped outside this woman's office for almost a week. When she finally made an appearance, she was really rude and tried to blow us off. Fed up, a group of us decided to head to the President's Office. I will never forget it . This woman ran up 3 flights of stairs in a too tight leather skirt to beat us to the President's Office.

She didn't beat us there, but as we were speaking to the President's secretary, she came busting in the Office. "See, what had happened was..." is how she started. No hello, no pause to see what we were saying. "What had happened was..." she interuppted us breathlessly. I can't remember the rest of the story she told (I was too busy watching her gasp for breath and secretly hoping she would pass out).

After that incident, I began to notice how often people start an excuse with those words. I transferred to another college, and still I encountered the "What had happened" phenomenon. I mentioned it to my mother, who thought it was funny at first (ok, she still thinks it's funny) but she had to agree. Usually when people start a sentence with "What had happened was..." it's going to be a lie.

So when someone asked me why I hadn't posted in almost a month; I couldn't help but say "Well, see, what had happened was..."

Small town = Small minded

There are good things about the South and there are bad things about the South, that's life. It doesn't make it right or wrong, it's just life. Waving at a passing car from your front porch - Good. KKK having its annual march through town - BAD! Someone asking "How Your Mama and Them doing?" - Good. A store selling racist propaganda on the town square - BAD!

Southern life is a mass of anachronisms and contradictions. We are a region steeped in archaic traditions and beliefs. Our traditions are neither all good or all bad, they just are. Here, you learn quickly that change does not come swiftly or quietly. You have to fight for progress from all angles; so it is best to choose your battles wisely.

I mention this because I have been griping about the local event going on in my town. (I won't use the actual event name, because I don't want to have to cuss someone out later if too many locals stumble across this blog.) This event like all others in the past are never planned with the general populace in mind. The entertainment lineup always looks like this: Bluegrass bands, 2 or 3 groups the play a "variety of music" which consists of beach music and a few general oldies. They stick a gospel choir in somewhere to keep the Blacks happy. That is the entertainment. This formula NEVER changes.

In my town only the upper-class people have a hand in planning local events. Oh they say everyone is welcome; they even complain that they can't get minority participation in planning events. What they never mention is that they hold the planning meetings during the week at 1 pm. When the working class people are at work. Just to make sure we don't give our input. We may try to change things.

This year, mother and I decided not to go to the event. I told mother, I am tired of these people taking our money, but refusing to provide diverse entertainment. It is not worth it! I know that they won't hurt from the loss of our money, but I will feel better about myself. I may not be able to change the town, but I don't have to be completely complacent.