Crazy Young White Women

Picture it: I'm at my neighborhood bar, whoring out their wi-fi so I can get some work done and enjoy a skinny girl margarita. Killing two birds, if you will.

Meanwhile, this troupe of Seattle's hipster finest sits down next to me at the bar. This group of broads seemed okay, not too tragic. But then I start listening to their convo - which wasn't hard because their drunk asses were basically screaming in this low-key, low-volume bar. So I'm eavesdropping and they're talking crap about past and current boyfriends and then the blond hipster chick chimes in, "He used to shoot up all the time, and it was so f*cking hot!"

What?!! I shook my head and stared at her in disbelief, as if I was a condoned participant of the conversation.

They all looked away and continued to chat with each other - and the other broads nodded in agreement with the crazy blonde's statement!

I was shocked and appalled, and more happy than ever that I always identified more with my black half. Certain young white women are crazy. I just don't get it.

E-maul Me

There is an ancient Chinese proverb, I forgot it already, that basically says to have a good relationship, you must have a row. And how you deal with the row is really a sign as to how strong your relationship is.

I completely agree with the proverb. I'll update the blog with the exact proverb for you sticklers.

Meanwhile, I have to say, friends that I haven't had a good old fashioned row or disagreement with usually aren't worth the cocktails the friendship was founded on. Real talk, besides a slight number of friendships that have only been smooth sailing, the majority of my friendships have encountered some defining row - and how we mutually dealt with the row really signified the strength of the friendship.

I feel that it really is how you deal with rows (or disagreements for you non-European/Caribbean folks) that tells you how solid your relationship is - friendship OR romantical ;).

If you and I haven't had a good row, we likely aren't that hard core of friends. And even if you think we haven't had one, if we have encountered an awkward/hurtful series of events, I count that as a "row": and how we moved past said row really speaks to our friendship, in my humble opinion.

All my main b's and I have had disagreements, and if I haven't thrown down (even on a teeny tiny level), you're likely not gonna be invited to my wedding, baby daddy shower, and/or Kingston's bar mitzvah, etc.

Thoughts?

Smooches!

KB

Love, Life, and Lyrics

I was very surprised at the reaction I received in response to the quote I had as my Gchat message today:

"I detest 'love lyrics.' I think one of the causes of bad mental health in the United States is that people have been raised on 'love lyrics." - Frank Zappa

I've never had so many people respond so emphatically: "Word!" - Aaliyah. "Yes! It's so true!" - Jake. " "Here here, love songs are such baloney." - Grace

I think of myself as a positive, glass half-full kind of person. But this Valentine's Day I've really had it with the romanticized myth of "true love" that we are fed from birth.

If the Chris Brown/Rihanna domestic violence situation didn't remind everyone that Love isn't perfect, let KB break it down for you:

The idea of true love and "happily ever after" is just that: an idea. People attach such pressure and angst around this seemingly simple idea: love. But it isn't simple. Relationships are tough. And I'm not just talking about romantical ;) ones.

Jake mentioned that in addition to "love lyrics" contributing to America's deplorable mental health state is the idea that a person MUST have a father figure in their life to be "normal" or well-adjusted. Not true. In fact, he said, "I wouldn't know the difference if y'all didn't talk about it all the time." I have to agree. And not just regarding fathers, but marriage as well.

If there weren't a zillion and one movies, magazines, books, songs, tv shows, tax benefits, etc. emphasizing the amazingness of marriage I surely wouldn't have it within 10 miles of my "to do" list. The concept of marriage is shoved down our throats since day 1. Even as a young lass, KB always questioned why everyone insisted that everyone else be married, get married, or be in the process of finding someone to marry. What about just being happy and finding people (animals, and/or things) that make you happy?

Now don't get me wrong. I'd love to find someone who gets my Seinfeld/Simpson references, loves fancy hotels and discount tchotchke shops, adores my ability to drink like a fish, inability to dance, and my affection for extensions and abondoned, not-so-cute, sickly mutts. If we have a party where I'm in a white dress (or pink!) and there's a rabbi and black minister repeating some vows, cool. If not, that's cool too.

I have a phenomenal family (we ain't the Huxtables but we ain't the Bundy's eitha), fabulous friends, a great job, amazing doggies, and a home that hugs me when I walk through the door.

Now that sounds like a great idea.

Happy Valentine's Day y'all.

XOXO,

KB

The Lush Life

I just ate two green olives and immediately began craving a dirty martini. And I don't even do martinis like that. Y'all know KB's drink is the skinny girl margarita (tequila, ice, and fresh lime juice) or vodka and diet tonic. Now I'm thirsty. Thanks.

Meanwhile, I saw my doctor yesterday for a normal check-up and when I responded to her alcohol consumption inquiry she went on for approximately 10 minutes about how much she drank in med school.

Apparently, every 6 weeks was "Black Monday" where her class would be tested all day on the previous 6 week's worth of material. Naturally, the bar was the first stop after the examination ended. Doctor Feel Good went on and on about how hungover her and her classmates would be the Tuesday after "Black Monday" and the cycle would begin all over again. I appreciated her attempt to bond with me, as I told her I drink on occassion (2x a week if I'm lucky!) but not as often as I did in law school, when there were ample opportunities to drink in celebration of completing some academic feat.

I was a tad concerned by the sparkle in her eye as she waxed nostalgic about how much drinking she did in her med school days. P.s. - she was a nurse prior to becoming a doctor so med school wasn't that long ago (she's in her 40s). The sparkle, combined with her attitude of, "hey, when you're stressed with that much work, you're gonna use alcohol to cope," slightly bothered me.

But not as much as her Rx game.

Son, this chick whips out the prescription pad at the drop of a dime. I went in for a check-up and came out with 4 prescriptions. What? I mean yeah, my muscles get a tad sore if I hit the gym a bit much but do I really need horse-sized ibuprofen pills to ease the pain? This broad was damn near finished writing a prescription before I even opened my mouth to tell her about a small burn on my chest (curling iron - don't ask). Next thing I know, I have a shiny new bottle of super strength anti-inflammatory cream. Did I mention there's a pharmacy in the same medical building? On my way out to the parking lot I looked like I was leaving the mall after a shopping spree.

Alright yall, I'm off to down a couple of pain pills and wash it down with a crisp martini. Delish.

Smooches!

KB

Bonus point opportunity: what artist has an album that shares the title of this post? Winner gets some of my meds!