The Jake & Kelly Show

Adventures in Arm Candyland

2010-04-19T08:36:00.000-07:00

KB here with a quick re-cap of my weekend in Vegas. Let me warn you right now - there is about to be some brutal honesty up in here. For those of you who are sensitive Suzies, you may want to close this browser asap.

It was an impromptu trip. A very well established, successful ($$$), black attorney here in the 'Burgh asked me a week and a half ago if I could "roll to Vegas" the following weekend. It took me about 3 seconds to reply, "I have to find a dog walker, but hell yeah!" I didn't ask why or how or what for. I already knew the answers. You see, said friend is sweet on KB and although we've only kicked it on a few occasions to conversate over cocktails, it's obvious he is a "fan" of mine (his words). I am a fan of his too. Meaning he is a very nice man, accomplished, generous, respectful, and can appreciate an independent woman who likes to have fun and laugh.

But I am 1000% not attracted to him and have never indicated I had the slightest romantic interest in him. In addition to the double chin, old guy hair cut, mustache, neck rolls, and a haunting layer of gray ash on his face and knuckles (perhaps from the Iceland volcano?), he also has possibly the most bland, boring, uninteresting personality I have ever encountered. And I've chatted with some snoozerific folks before.

So when I signed up for the trip I knew what I was getting myself into. I was arm candy. Plain and simple. He wanted to brag to his colleagues of his PYT companion for the weekend and impress his friends. I haven't been able to volunteer at the soup kitchen for a while because I've been out of town so I figured this would count as a charitable endeavor for the month of April.

Long story longer, I had a fantastic weekend! Flew non-stop after work Friday and back to the 'Burgh Sunday evening. The weekend started with drinks and more drinks with, oh let's call him Mr. Snooze, his co-worker, and my BFF of all BFFs! My oldest and dearest friend from childhood has lived in Las Vegas since we were 13. I hadn't seen her in years and she is the BEST! It was so great to see her and be in her presence. My heart was so very happy to be around someone that I genuinely consider my sister.

But back to the tragic side of the tale. I ordered up shots and shots as the night went on and we danced around the rooftop bar amongst your typical tragically lame Las Vegas crowd of club goers. The place had the undeniable stench of vomit and desperation. An aroma all too common in bars and clubs in Vegas and Hollywood. Anywho, I drank enough so I wouldn't have to tackle any awkwardness when we would return to our suite at the hotel. I "passed out" on the couch and told Mr. Snooze to leave me there as I felt sick. In reality, I was definitely tipsy but not passing out drunk, and I wasn't sick at all. But I know if he tried to sleep next to me in the huge king size bed I would definitely become sick and throw up all over his ash covered body.

The next morning he left early to attend a business meeting and I sprung up like a jack rabbit as soon as the room door slammed shut. I high-tailed it to the drug store to get sunscreen, magazines, and some water, and off I went to the pool. I had a BALL! Not only am I two to three shades bronzer, I was chatting it up with the best folks ever. I was solo so I became best friends with all of my pool neighbors. The first couple I met was in their 50s and from Canada. I fell in love with them and asked if I could come visit. Throughout the day I chatted in betwixt monster size frozen margaritas. I finished my 2nd Chelsea Handler book, and enjoyed viewing the plentiful hot bodies that were fooling around at the pool. Man, if Mr. Snooze weren't footing the bill for the weekend I would have slored it up. Don't judge me! Okay go ahead and judge. Those boys were hot. There must be some hot guys-with six pack abs listserve that tells them all to visit Vegas every weekend. Yum to the yummers.

Mr. Snooze finally joins me after I had been out sunning for oh 5 hours, in his old guy shorts and button down short sleeved shirt. We chatted for a bit, which is hard because he has nothing interesting to say. Ever. Finally my BFF comes to meet us and we start gabbing non-stop. Now don't get me wrong - my bestie and I always included Mr. Snooze in conversations. We're not rude. But it was on him to actually contribute to the convo. Which he seldom did. Things finally got interesting when J, my BFF, asked him if he had any kids. I was shocked when he said yes! Not only because he never mentioned it, but also because I found it astonishing that someone let him mount them and conceive a child. Before I get nauseous, let's move on.

He explained that his child is 7 years old, lives with the mom, and he was never married. Something on his face looked like he was ashamed. I have a feeling it was because having a child out of wedlock made him a statistic. His entire steeze that he desperately tries to maintain is that he's a rich, successful, black professional with swagger and has the right to be picky, arrogant, and look down on others who are not as successful. And I'm sure he had a feeling that I would not be too pleased that he had a kid. I have to say, it is my policy not to date men with kids. But this guy could have zero kids or 100. I'd never want to do anything even remotely romantic or intimate with him. So it really didn't matter that he had a kid. What do I care?

Anywho, this new development pretty much opened up pandora's box in terms of my status as arm candy and his contstant, nagging inquiries regarding my level of interest. Here are a few high(low)lights of his line of questioning and comments throughout the weekend:

"So I've lost 15 lbs since I met you back in January, I want to lose 15 more. Then maybe you'll be into me."

(KB response: I lowered my head, half smiled, and ferociously sipped from my margarita.)

"Does my having a child bother you?"

(KB response: "Not at all. I do have a policy of usually not dating men with kids, but we're not dating so it really is not any of my business. Were you ever going to tell me though?")

"Well you'd never be around him so I wasn't planning on telling you, no."

(KB response: "um, okay.")

As soon as I told him I wasn't trying to date anyone right now, he changed his story up and began to say that he wasn't looking to get married, but he just wanted to "hang out" and get to know me and fly me out to wherever he is to do so.

(KB response: "To be honest, I'm really still in the phase of dating bad boys that are jerks, because they're disposable, and you are definitely not disposable." (Good shit right?! I gotta write that one down to use in future "It's not you, it's me" explanations when rejecting an advance.)

"I was talking to my partner and told him how beautiful you are but that you'd likely be more into our friend who plays in the NFL, you know with huge muscles and stuff. I bet I'm not the usual type of guy you like."

(KB response: "Well, you know, I've dated athletes, models before, and personality counts too." Then I lowered my head and ferociously sipped my margarita. Or was it a cosmo? Whatever).

"My best friend and I realize that we probably think we are more attractive than we actually are."

(KB response: I lowered my head, half smiled, and ferociously sipped from my Diva cocktail (ingredients: fresh strawberry, peach vodka, and club soda)).

"It's hard for me to date because usually after about two months the woman will ask me for money, to pay her bills. I know with you, not only are you beautiful, but you're smart, funny, and independent."

(KB response: They ask you for money because why else would they be with you? I bet they are all mildly to somewhat attractive? Aim lower fella and maybe someone will stick around because they actually find your old man steeze appealing.)

(Okay, the real KB response was: I lowered my head, half smiled, and sipped from said Diva cocktail.)

AND HERE IS THE KICKER!!! (You may want to sit down for this)

Saturday evening around midnight, after I pleaded with Mr. Snooze to let me go to bed and not stop at yet another bar (I don't know if he really just wanted to be out or was trying to get me tipsy enough to try something) I put on my huge over sized law school t-shirt and yoga pants and slipped into bed on the furthest side away from him. I literally was in side plank pose position, taking up no more than 4 inches wide of the bed. He was approximately 5 feet away from me, which was too close for comfort.

So as I pretended to read my book intently (I had finished it already at the pool) I was genuinely getting very sleepy (Did I mention I popped a sleeping pill at a bar earlier?) and couldn't wait to fall asleep and dream of anything without awkwardness or ashy skin. Mr. Snooze said good night and I turned my head to say the same when I saw a sight so horrid I will pay thousands of dollars to a hypnotist or brain surgeon to remove the image from my memory.

He was topless.

You guys, picture Steve Harvey, Bill Cosby, Al Roker, and shit, I don't know, any other older semi-fat cornball guy. Without a shirt.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

I really was preparing myself to vomit right there on the bed.

I quickly turned my head back to my book and said a prayer to the Lord to send me a diversion. Let him have a heart attack, let there be a terrorist attack, a fire alarm, an earth quake. Anything that would make him put a shirt on.

And then he said it.

"I know this is a platonic friend weekend, but could I get a kiss?"

At this point I did in fact throw up a little in my mouth. And prayed for death.

After the longest 5 second pause in history I said, "Um...I'm cool...I don't kiss friends, I find it to be very intimate and I am just not comfortable doing that. I'm exhausted. Good night!"

I turned my head, closed the book, and miraculously fell quickly asleep. Popping that pill was the best move ever. I'm seriously considering naming my next dog or first born child Ambien.

I slept for a solid 8 hours and was awoken by Mr. Snooze, who had gotten up earlier, got coffee and was putting mine next to me on my nightstand, with a variety of sugar substitutes and creamers for my choosing. It was a very nice gesture and I decided to forgive him for putting me in the most awkward position ever the previous night and subjecting me to the bone-chilling sight of his bare torso.

So it's Sunday and you know what that means for KB. Brunch! The hotel had a fabulous one and after we put our bags in the lobby and checked out, off we went. Unlimited champagne would surely have me tipsy enough all day in order to survive the last leg of the trip. Off we go to brunch, where my Bestie is waiting for me! Of course she was going to come with. Duh! I paid for brunch for all of us since I felt a bit bad for inviting my bff to just about every single outing that weekend. I wish I could have asked her to stay in the hotel with us, saving me from all of the awkward and vomit inducing interactions with Snooze. And ps: Mr. Snooze benefited from her company too - at just about any place we were at, the wait staff and passers by commented on how lucky he was to be in the company of two such beautiful young ladies which made him light up with a huge grin. So there.

Anywho, being the bestie of all besties, we leave Mr. Snooze alone to pile up his plate with gross seafood and other old man type food, and go to her car parked on the rooftop parking lot and hang with Bob. Yes!!! Possibly the best time of my life. I begin to describe to her the awful details of the previous night but it was just too much. She was choking on her tears and laughter when I tried to describe his bloated stomach and gross old guy curly chest hair with gray hairs making cameos here and there.

We somehow make it back to brunch in a reasonable amount of time and control our giggles and try not to be obvious that we had been speaking of Mr. Snooze. We got our grub on and sipped champagne, and I began to feel better about speaking ill of Snooze. Bob helped me realize that I shouldn't feel that guilty about it. Because even if he was actually attractive to me in the slightest way, I don't find his personality appeasing at all. My bestie remarked earlier that she thought he was funny, but then realized he hadn't said one humorous thing all weekend. I was the one with the hilarious seinfeld-esque observations and insane descriptions of extremely awkward moments and situations. He would just chuckle and make lame follow up comments.

He also exhibited many extremely annoying habits like constantly being on his cell phone as if he was that important and popular (I kept waiting for the blue tooth to come out that would seal the cornball deal), and making references to his wealthy lifestyle - including his four houses, two BMWs and a louis vuitton man bag. Gross to the yuck. Even a classically hot guy loses mad points if he exhibits such nauseating behavior. And he kept making excuses for going to never heard of, lower tiered schools for college and law school. Again, none of this mattered to me. He could have graduated at the top of his class from Jesus H. Christ College of Law and be an Oxford Scholar with a genius grant. It wouldn't change my feelings toward him.

So after my bestie dropped us off at the airport, we of course waited for our boarding time at an airport bar where I continued to drink margaritas and prayed that the plane was full so we wouldn't be in a row by ourselves. The Lord heard my prayer and miraculously Mr. Snooze had a penchant for aisle seats and I always have to sit by the window so he was totally cool with sitting apart. And a semi-cutie sat in betwixt us! Although anyone with a BMI under 35 and under 40 years of age was semi-cute at that point. But I digress.

I finished my second book and was able to part ways as soon as we got off the plane since he checked a bag (LV of course, yuck) and I didn't and I desperately needed to rush home to walk my dog who hadn't been out since the dog walker came earlier that morning.

I damn near ran to my car, sped home, and gave my dog the longest embrace ever.

I am so happy to be back and more happy that I'll be hopping out of town again soon. This time with a bestie from law school for part of the trip, and then with my Kingston clan for a super fun reunion in Miami. No one over 40 allowed. Save for Jay-Z, Janet, J.Lo, and Mimi.

I have to say it was definitely a worthwhile trip, awkwardness and all. Despite my opposition to any and all romantic advances, Mr. Snooze appreciated my company and said he had the best time partying with me and my girl. Haha. I'm sure he was pissed how much time we were a threesome and not a twosome, but understood how much we missed each other and was seemingly okay with it. And besides, when we were alone it was such a task to conjure up any kind of delightful conversation. Snooze city. I only have so much material and was damn near out by Saturday night.

That concludes this adventure in Arm Candyland. It was worth the awkward situations, and now that my bestie and I already had our Vegas reunion, we are going to relocate her post-bachelorette party to LA over Memorial Day weekend! Yipee! We had planned on having it in Vegas but since the Arm Candy retreat covered that, off to LA we go, where we plan on reliving some of our favorite childhood activities. Lemonade Stand anyone? Actually that's a cute idea. Of course this time around said lemonade will be spiked with vodka. And we'll give discounts to all hotties.

I hope you enjoyed this here tale. I wish it was part fiction, but trust me, everything above really happened. For better or for worse.

Until the next time...

Smooches!

Random Thoughts: Is it just me...?

2010-03-25T12:53:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or have you noticed that the media refers to President Obama as "Mr. Obama" or just "Obama" or his full name, "Barack Obama"?

I don't remember the media referring to GW as "Mr. Bush" or "Bush" (stop giggling) as much. Can some think-tank conduct some kind of study to determine if my observation is fact? I just find it disrespectful addressing the President (whoever it may be at the time) by anything but his formal title.

Is it just me or do pregnant people and new mothers completely erase from their vocabulary normal measurements of time? One of my dear friends sent some gorgeous pictures of her growing belly and proclaimed "Can you believe I'm 33 and a half weeks already?!" I immediately furrowed my brow and thought...she's 11 months pregnant?! That can't be right. So off I went to my calculator and figured it out. Um, preggers people can you please just say you're 8 and a half months pregnant? Your non-preggers friends would appreciate it. Also, new mommies: After your kid turns 4 I think it's okay to stop calculating his/her age in months. Little Kev is 49 months! They grow so fast.

Is it just me or is it time to remove "Negro" from the race section on the Census form? I was startled when I saw "Black, African Am., or Negro" as the second choice after White.

Is it just me or have some recent reports of Toyotas going nuts sound mad suspect? Not one has been confirmed to be the car's fault, and all signs are pointing to human error. I have a sneaking suspicion that a few crappy drivers are using the recall to excuse said crappy driving. Case in point: I was in a large parking lot of a shopping center last night, stopped behind a car, as we were both making left turns to exit the lot. The car in front of me was not going more than five (5) miles per hour when she ran directly into the pole on the other side of the two way lane. She was going so slow I literally watched in slow motion as she busted the left headlight of her car into the pole.

As I witnessed the slow-mo crash, I asked aloud, "Is she going to keep going and roll into that pole?" Yup. Clearly no one was hurt, and when the woman pulled over to take a look at the damage she created I couldn't help but chuckle. She was older - around 60, so it's not like she was texting or updating her facebook page on her iphone that caused her to be distracted. At least I hope not. She was driving a luxury looking SUV. What brand? Toyota! Twenty bucks says she tells the dealer the car accelerated on its own.

Is it just me or has the downright f*ckery and tomfoolery going down in Congress gone way too far? All of this violence and upheaval...over making sure the citizens you supposedly represent don't die in the street after being kicked out of a hospital because they don't have health insurance. And I still do not get the rationale that we can't afford healthcare...but the war? Sure! More military spending! Um, shouldn't we be putting money behind programs that keep people alive?

Finally, is it just me or has Mother Nature been a straight up b*tch lately? I mean really. Enough with the devastating earthquakes and never-ending snow storms. (Side bar: we are expecting snow overnight in lovely pittsburgh. It's gonna be MF april next week! what in the ef.)

Meanwhile, I almost had a heart attack last week when I was sitting on my couch with Kingston watching something on Bravo when all of a sudden an extremely bright light flashed through the windows in the dining room. I jumped up and was terrified. Did some crazy neighbor just snap a picture of me?! The flash was so bright! Then I heard it. Thunder! That flash was lightning. I felt like a narcissistic fool (ain't nobody tryna take a picture of me in my yoga gear sipping a cosmo), Kingston rolled his eyes, and went back to sleep.

Thanks for letting me vent...my random thoughts.

Smooches!

Content City. Population: Me.

2010-03-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

Whilst sipping $17 vodka&diet cokes with Jake and his bestie at the W this past weekend in NYC, Jake confessed that he hasn't blogged in awhile because he just hasn't felt inspired. I totally hear that.

I rarely feel the urge to post more than twice a month or so. Jake's buddy suggested we write about what we like. Jake insisted he needs more structure, a focus to narrow down the topics on what we blog about. Well, we have yet to come up with a central theme (besides f*ckery and tomfoolery) but I am going to follow Jake's friend's suggestion and write about what I like. The focus today? Pittsburgh.

Yes, kittens, I like Pittsburgh. It can be boring and weird, and there's an extreme shortage of eye candy, but dang it there are some really positive aspects about this place that I really dig.

For example, I was returning to my car after purchasing my happy juice from the wine & spirits store (don't judge) when a meter-maid approached me and said, "Will you do me a favor and put a quarter in the meter so I can rip up your ticket?" I stared at her in complete disbelief and confusion. "Huh? Wait, what? Oh! Okay! Thanks!!" And I promptly put in a quarter, thanked the meter maid again, and went on about my way.

Who does that? Chile, I still talk about the $80 jaywalking ticket I got in LA in 2000. Jaywalking. And the light was GREEN, but the red hand was flashing. I asked the cop, "Isn't someone being maimed or raped right now?" Ugh.

Last night I was all kindsa hyped to celebrate my first St. Patrick's Day in the 'Burgh. Snooze. I had fun catching up with a few buddies but per usual, there was NO talent and I was ready for bed by 7:30. The highlight of the evening was the bartender. He kept filling my glass everytime it was less than half full with a mischievous yet welcoming grin on his red face. Oh and ps the drinks were $2.50 a pop. And they weren't on special.

My friends asked me when I was moving out of Pittsburgh since I've been leaving almost every weekend for destinations with decent nightlife, weather, style (I saw no less than 10 outfits in NYC I plan on replicating), and of course, attractive mens. I told them I ain't leaving for a minute. The thing is I really like Pittsburgh. During the week.

My job is the cat's meow, and it's so easy living here. It's no surprise the 'Burgh was voted "Most Livable City" 4 years in a row by the Economist. During the week my routine is mundane and predictable and I love it. The weekends here are usually boring yet relaxing and that's fine...sometimes...but mama needs to live, so it looks like I'mma be a weekend warrior jetting off to locales that fulfill my fun, fashion, and flirting needs.

Sounds like a plan to me.

My name is Kelle Belle von Benson Simone. And I'm happy to be here.

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy too.

Smooches!

The J&K Show hit the road...again

2010-03-16T10:13:00.000-07:00

Picture it: Summer 2008. Jake was in LA after driving down the coast from Frisco in a convertible. I know, cliche much? Jokes. Jake comes by KB's crib and the pair frolic at the beach for days on end, making pitchers and pitchers of Sangria before said frolicking.

Now picture it: March 2010. Rainy NYC. J&K are in town to celebrate the impending birth of a mutual bestie's babe. Cue the pitchers of Sangria and commence the frolicking. It was as if we had just seen each other the other day.

After getting entirely too giddy on champagne and pink cupcakes at said friend's baby shower on the lower east side, J&K and crew head back to KB's hotel room to kick it with our old buddy Bob.

After the crew leaves, one of Jake's besties I've only admired in pictures (yummers!) comes by and the trio heads to the bar at the W where we discuss everything and nothing at all. Most notably Jake's amazing idea to get rich quick: raffles. As in raffling off an old sweater. Or a house. Jake's bff and I exchanged bewildered looks ("they already have that, it's called Ebay"), and wanted to confirm it wasn't the drinks or bob making his idea sound absolutely ludicrous. Nope, it was ridic all on its own.

But we heart him nonetheless. And his hot pink messiness. Who books a flight from the wrong airport? Chile, somehow both J&K made their respective flights, after a long embrace and tearful goodbye. Okay, so I was tearing up because my fake eyelashes were a b*tch to take off the night before and left my eyeballs sensitive. Those tears were real. So much has happened since the last J&K meeting on the road. And I think our readers would be proud. We've accomplished some pretty admirable thangs since our last meet-up (bar exams, cross country moves, flourishing careers, new dogs, old dogs, loves, likes, and everything in between) and I foresee nothing but more fierceness in the future.

The next reunion is hopefully just around the corner. A touch of tomfoolery and f*ckery was just what the doctor ordered.

Smooches,

KelleBelle

Preggo Pick-Me-Up

2010-02-25T12:50:00.000-08:00

It's about that time when folks get really SAD (seasonal affective disorder). More than a few friends are ready to bust out and re-locate to costa rica and join the peace corps. One in particular has been having some rough days, bursting into tears at a moments notice. It may have more to do with hormones than dreary weather, but she's in need of some pick me up tips asap for her well-being and her babe to be.

You see, I currently have four friends that are pregnant. Seeing as how my usual advice - to make lemonade and add vodka when life gives you lemons - won't apply to them for the next few months, I had to think of some mood-lifters in crappy weather/times:

Vodka.

Oh wait. Strike that from the record.

Laughter.

Be it from TV, movies, friends, books, co-workers, etc., laughter always puts you in a better mood. Regardless of the weather.

Sun breaks.

I know for me, even three days away from the gray skies and piles of dirty snow on the ground was a complete mood lifter. I really think the trip was medically necessary for my mental and physical health. It's hard to not get sick from the constantly freezing temperatures and snowy walkways.

If you can't take a sun break in the near future, create your own sun vacay at home. Grab some non-alcoholic margarita mix, coronas (only if you are in your 3rd trimester), chips & salsa, a kiddie pool, pics of the beach, Bob Marley cds, and slap on a sun dress or maybe even a bathing suit. Yes, you will look utterly insane, but you should be laughing extremely hard at yourself by this time as you look in the mirror and take in your futile attempt to convince yourself summer is coming. Just picturing my super-pregnant friend in a bright red bikini with an umbrella hat in her apartment in Brooklyn is making me giggle. And I'm not even SAD! =)

Food.

This is the one time in your life when you can gorge on any and every comfort food you ever desired and not be judged. You'll be paying for it with extra long post-partum work-outs at the gym, but for now, get to grubbin'. I bet you'll feel much better when you are sipping some super rich hot chocolate followed by a philly cheesesteak. You'll be in a food coma soon enough and will forget all about the depressing weather outside.

Hope this helps! Off to happy hour. :)

KelleBelle

More Random Thoughts

2010-02-25T11:54:00.000-08:00

If it looks like a killer, acts like a killer, and has killer in its name...don't f*ck with it.

I grew up at the beach, love aquariums, and have been to SeaWorld many times. In fact, up until the age of 8 I legitimately set my sights at being a mermaid as my career goal. However, I have always respected the ocean and feared it. Stepping on a sand shark as a child can do that to ya. Look, I feel awful for the family of the trainer that was pulled to her death yesterday by a killer whale during a performance at SeaWorld, but let's be real. It's a killer whale. Hello. Combine anything with "Killer" in front of it and captivity, and this is what happens (ps this was the third death this whale caused).

Now excuse me while I harvest honey for my tea from some killer bees. Mmm deathly.

Movie snooze.

I finally saw Avatar. I'm not sure if the extreme hype affected me or what, but I don't see what's all the hub bub. It was entertaining, but so was Jurassic Park, The Matrix, and Alien. I do love that phony ponies played a major role in the flick! I wonder where the studio got the hair from. Probably Star Beauty Supply on Crenshaw and Normandie.

News snooze.

While home in Cali for a much needed sun break I noticed the striking difference between what is considered "top news" in LA and in Pittsburgh. Here were the first four "top" news stories:

1. Extensive coverage of the Tiger news conference.
2. Rain possibly in the forecast. (Ooh scary! B please.)
3. Kim Kardashian did an in-store to debut her "celebrity" cupcake: pink vanilla frosting.
4. Hemp Con 2010.

I think by the 20 minute mark or so they finally touched on the health care bill debate, jobless rates, and the upcoming gubernatorial race.

In contrast, Pittsburgh evening news usually leads with a combination of the following (at least these last few months):

1. Snow.
2. More Snow.
3. Awful road conditions causing accidents due to the never-ending snow.
4. Snow.

Then they'll get to local crime and national news, but not before they talk about hockey and football.

Thanks for letting me ramble. I needed a brain break. Back to the grind...

Smooches,

Random Thoughts

2010-02-19T10:23:00.000-08:00

Tiger broke his silence today. And said nothing. Snooze. But yo T - ease up on the little debbie snacks while you're holed up in the crib avoiding the paps. No one wants to see a chubby cheetah. A muscular man-whore is much easier to watch.

In double standard news, a small plane crashed into a building in Austin, TX yesterday. The pilot was allegedly aiming for the IRS which occupies a few floors of the building. To quote Mr. Jake A. McKenzie: "Why won't they call this white dude what he is: a terrorist."

In the latest observation of the wack side of Pittsburgh, my fav gal pal and I had a random, hilarious conversation Wednesday evening reflecting on the lame nick-names folks out here go by, and the vanilla government names behind the cornball made up monikers. To give you a few examples:

"Knowledge" is a thick white boy with Heavy-D esque eyeglasses (shaded a bit) and an edged up beard. Real name: Matt.

"Image" is a passive black man with dreads and an odd sense of humor. Real name: Billy.

"Free" - Unless he stans for 106 & Park or is recently out on bail, I don't get it. Real name: Walter.

"Black" is extremely high yellow. So shouldn't his name be..."Beige"? Real name: unknown. Likely Gilroy or Stacey.

With the help of Bob, said gal pal and I (both having vanilla government names) anointed ourselves Glitter (her) and Glam (me). We plan on getting bedazzled jackets and airbrushed t-shirts with our kick-ass new nick names emblazoned across them once we find a swapmeet out here that can provide such services.

Xoxo,

Glam

Time for "Ask KB"!

2010-01-28T11:56:00.000-08:00

I'll get straight to it. A gal pal in DC sent me and a few other ladies an email requesting our advice. She is a single, 28-year-0ld fierce professional young lady who generally has her ish together. She is attractive and fit...and that is where her request for advice comes in.

Said pal shares my general guidelines of suitors to be very wary of: professional athletes, musicians, politicians, trainers, etc. You get the idea. These types are not strictly banned from consideration, but one must proceed with caution if you decide to date them.

So here's her question: should she date a trainer at her gym? Her boot camp instructor is hot and seemingly a very nice guy. Young (25) but has displayed mature characteristics: owns his own home, is at work (her gym) everyday at 5am, and when he speaks exudes a level of maturity beyond his years.

She never considered him as a potential suitor because of her guidelines above. But at a recent boot camp class one of the regulars (a "yenta" about 20 years her senior) suggested that said boot camp instructor and her would make an incredible couple. This yenta made the suggestion to him and said it just loud enough that my pal could hear it. She blushed and pretended to not hear it.

So she sends the email asking if she should pursue this potential hookup. Here's what I was thinking of telling her:

Pros:

1. Schedule similarity. They are both early to rise and early to bed in order to be up and ready to get it in at the gym. Therefore there wouldn't be the problem of scheduling dates, because both know they need to be turning in by 9/10pm. I know for me, it has been hard to date someone who doesn't have a similar schedule because "no, I can't meet you out for dinner/drinks and a hip-hop show at 9pm on a Tuesday because I can't sleep in til 11am like you, sir."

2. Physical fitness. They both hold exercise and healthy living (with the occasional over-imbibing on the weekends) as important parts of their lives and are both physically fit. Their kids would be guaranteed athletic scholarships to the college of their choice at birth. Said pal has broken up with folks in the past because they were lazy slugs that made fun of her healthy eating and "nazi" exercise regimen. Yes chile, her ex said that! She promptly kicked Mr. Chunky Mc Laze to the curb.

3. Lifestyle. Continuing with #2's theme, because both parties begin their days so early, they both (at least my gal pal does) must turn in early. Thereby decreasing the likelihood that dude is an irresponsible drunken fool that hangs at skeevy bars during the week picking up chicks. No guarantee on what he does with his weekend time, but during the week my money is on him turning in early.

4. He's good with kids. Dude teaches a "Fit Kidz" class 4x a week where he guides 3-7 year olds through various exercises while their desperate housewife mommies are in spinning class/pilates. I have to say there is nothing more attractive than a man who is good with kids. Especially one who doesn't have any of his own!

5. He sees her at 5:30 in the a.m. No makeup, bed hair, crappy workout gear, and half-asleep. My friend, like me, rarely leaves the house without her "face" on so the fact that he has seen the "real" her is definitely a plus. And especially since she makes it a point to run into him on her way out of the gym looking fierce in full hair/makeup on her way to work. He sees the au natural her, and the everyday wow version. All that to say if they do spend time together, there will be no surprises when he rolls over the morning after. Ha!

Cons:

1. He's a trainer. Even the yenta flirts with dude. But who can blame her? Trainers are known to be hot and they are in the unique position of seeing you in your most vulnerable state: no makeup, messy hair, breathing heavy, and sweating like a pig. It's a somewhat intimate relationship. Trainers have to touch their clients bodies and guide them through exercises...mmhmmm. You see the danger this occupation poses.

2. Youth. He may appear to be mature but she hasn't seen him with his friends. 25 is 25. And yes, he may be disciplined with his work schedule but she doesn't know if he's out tipping cows and slaying skeezy chicks when he's off the clock. Sad, but true.

I'm thinking of telling her that she shouldn't completely shoot down the idea of the hookup, but let him pursue her. Or rather, let the yenta do what she does best: meddle.

KelleBelle

Koast to Koast with KB

2010-01-27T12:49:00.000-08:00

Hi my lovelies!

I am coming off a whirlwind series of trips spanning the country. I cannot wait until this weekend. Finally, I'll be at home and I have zero plans besides snuggling with Kingston and catching up on TV I have missed.

As I mentioned before, I went home to So Cal the weekend before last to celebrate my birthday with my besties and Mama Belle ("MB"). Here's a summary of my trip:

Saturday: Arrived in LA at 9:30am and went straight to the nail shop for mani/pedi's with MB. Then home to spend final bonding time with Chester, my ailing beloved dog of 15 years, followed by a sad trip to the vet to say our final goodbye. Mama Belle really should have done this weeks ago but she wanted me to see him one more time before he was put out of his misery. It was for the best, and after the vet, MB and I walked down to the beach and reflected on our 15 years with him. Then we went home and I went to bed at 8:30pm and slept for 11 hours! Amazing.

Sunday: Boot camp class at my old gym, then birthday brunch at my house! Was the best!! MB made the most slammin' brunch spread ever and I believe I consumed an entire XXL size bottle of champagne (who needs orange juice?) by 4pm. Around 6pm one of my college buddies and I went down to the pier and ended up at a fun bar...where I met a cutie in betwixt taking birthday shots with fools from high school. Silly, but incredibly fun.

Monday: Rain soaked southern cal so I took it high school style and hung out at the mall with said cutie. Had a ball and concluded the day with a fabulous authentic Mexican dinner, complete with the best margaritas I've had since Cancun '07. Went home, hung with mama belle, packed my bags, and hopped on my plane at midnight. Slid into Pittsburgh at 10am Tuesday and went straight to the office. Work.

One of the disappointments with my trip home was that my bff Elaine and her daughter La-La missed their flight to LA from New York and couldn't get on another flight. She really needed this vacation and mama belle pulled out all the stops to welcome the two lovely ladies to casa de belle. She even hit up her bootleg hookup on crenshaw blvd. and got mad dvd's for La (Alvin and the Chipmunks, The Princess and the Frog, etc.). I was so very sad because if anyone deserves a vacation and some sunshine it was Elaine. And the birthday brunch was supposed to be for the both of us, as her birthday follows closely after mine. But I had to tell her that although it was unfortunate she couldn't make the trip, there must be a "reason" (as corny as that sounds) that she couldn't make the trip.

Well reason, meet KelleBelle. One of the main reasons Elaine wanted to go to LA was to meet her new niece/nephew. You see, her brother Bob lives in LA and was expecting his first child the day before we were to arrive in LA. Guess what? That baby didn't arrive until two days after Elaine would have left LA anyway! So she is now going to LA next week to meet her new niece!

On to the next coast.

Upon returning to Pittsburgh, I chatted on the telly with Elaine. I told her that since she missed the birthday brunch we should do something special for her birthday. She mentioned she hadn't had a birthday party in 10 years. Chile, that's all I had to hear. Before she could confirm her desire for a party I was already mentally planning the menu. The next day I created two versions of an Evite and told her to get ready, because the party is coming to her!

So last friday night there I was in my kitchen, feverishly baking a birthday cake, two dozen cupcakes, and assembling appetizers in my cooler. Grinning like a fool all the while. You know this is my joy! Up at 6am on Saturday, I hit the road at 7am and arrived in Brooklyn, NY around 1pm. After a stop at the liquor store and flower shop, I was in full party planning mode and turned her apartment into "Suite 457" - the hottest club on the block!

We had a friggin' ball honey and everyone loved the cocktails, appetizers, cake, oh and did I mention the tower of cupcakes adorned with "E" in various colors of frosting? This is not a game. Since I don't have a large squad of friends (yet!) in the 'Burgh I have been feening to get my hostessing game on. And for Elaine? I'd travel to the other side of the moon to honor her.

I hit the road early Sunday morning (reeking of alcohol and love!) and got back to the crib around 4pm. Passed out at 9pm and was up at 5am Monday to begin the week as usual.

A friend mentioned she's having a party in DC this weekend...I thought about it briefly, and then looked at Kingston who had the phone book open to Children's Protective Services. I suppose I should stop leaving him before he gets taken away. :)

Smooches!

KelleBelle

Twenty-Fine!

2010-01-14T06:34:00.001-08:00

Kittens,

Today is my birthday.

As you know, KB prefers to bake birthday cakes and throw parties for other folk's birthdays...and would rather keep it moving on my birthday as if it was just another day. Of course, the annual sipping of pink champagne will definitely happen, but besides that I really don't think birthdays are that big of a deal. Especially this one.

Today, I turn 29 years of age. I thought 30 was the big birthday to get all hyped about? Well, at least the majority of my b's did. Chile, these broads lost their minds with the grand parties and vacations to commemorate them...living on earth for 3 decades. To quote my favorite host on The View, Joy Behar, "Who cares? So whaat?" I mean really, I honestly don't look at birthdays as this monumental occasion/excuse to party like a rockstar. Perhaps that's because I feel like everyday is a celebration! Real talk. I have amazing friends/family, HD TV is awesome, my booty has never been firmer, my job is the bee's knees, and Kingston is growing more fur on his head. Everyday is like my birthday! If there were more hours in the day I'd go out and dance, drink, and celebrate life every night.

So back to today. I'm in high spirits as I am known to be in. Minding my business as I am known to do. I walk into the office and begin to start my day. One by one my co-workers come in and wish me a happy birthday. Two were especially annoying.

Well wisher #1 is a new co-worker who would be considered cute in the white world, is single, and somewhat "hip."

Him: "Happy Birthday, birthday girl! So how are you feeling about 29 and almost out of your twenties?"

Me: "Um, I really don't make a big deal out of it. Just a number."

Him: "Really? I'm 33 and I loathed turning 30. I just wanted to sit in a dark room and hide."

Me: "Are you serious? I thought only girls get that dramatic. No offense."

Well wisher #2 is my favorite co-worker who is my mom's age and on her 2nd husband after a failed first marriage in her 20s.

Her: "Happy Birthday! Did I just hear (co-worker #1) say he was 33? He's single, right? Anyway, you know I didn't marry my current husband until I was 35. So there's still hope."

Me: [I get out of my chair, stand in the middle of my office, put my hand to my forehead and wipe the imaginary sweat away in dramatic fashion] "PHEW! I was really getting worried!"

Womp womp.

Then I hop on Gchat and one of my besties says, "Happy Birthday! You better make this a good year! Last year of your twenties!"

Barf.

Thanks for the reminder. It's in the same vein as those jagoffs that send New Year's greeting texts that say, "Happy New Year! Okay, let's get it! This is our year!"

What does that even mean? And unlike my bestie, the "Let's get it!" text senders are monumentally underachieving individuals. Thank you sir for reminding me to be productive in 2010. Had you not sent the text instructing me to do so, I would have quit my job, stopped paying taxes, acquire an addiction, and suck off the government/society's teet for the rest of my existence.

Anywhether, thanks for all the well wishes. I am so very excited to be going home to La-La land this weekend and relax with mama belle and a few besties from law school. While I am still lurving the 'Burgh, a girl needs some sun and sand every now and then. Nahmean? ;)

Smooches!

KelleBelle

[Ed. Note: Many thanks to Mr. "Weezy F. I got a lot of babies" for inspiring the above T-shirt, which perfectly captures my feelings towards birthdays and life in general. Well done sir, well done. ]

How to Survive the Holidays, the J&K way

2009-12-29T05:36:00.000-08:00

Picture it: Christmas 2009. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I'm alone in a new city, and there is ice and snow on the roads. My alarm wakes me at 6:30 am. I'm up early not to see what that fat bastard with the beard brought me (I'm certain he would have left me coal...and maybe some airplane sized bottles of booze to ease the pain), but to get ready for my own version of America's Next Top Model - the Geriatric edition. Yes chile, KB volunteered at a convalescent home Christmas morning. My task? Well, I'm glad you asked.

It was my job to get the residents "dolled up" for their holiday party and family visits. I must admit, I am not the best with the elderly population. I mean really really elderly people, that usually have health problems and are not fully functional. However, for whatever reason this project just seemed too good to pass up, despite my reservations. So off I went at 9am in full hair & makeup in a fierce red dress (with leopard print pumps of course) to the retirement home.

Honey, let me tell you...I met KelleBelle at 90! Her name is Irene (I call her "Reenie") and she is F-i-e-r-c-e. After I did her hair and makeup ("not too much rouge, I don't want to look like a floosie") it was time for nails. Reenie let me know that she sits with a lovely group of gentlemen everyday at dinner and tonight she was going to flash her "fancy fingernails" to the men and show off her gorgeous hands. Love her! She told me that she was married once, and her husband had long since passed, so she was very happy that she was assigned to her dining room table where she is the sole woman. "Why sit with women? I can sit with them anytime I want." Work.

The other residents were just as lovely (there was one scare when someone who was not "all there" took a nail polish remover bottle and almost drank it - I snatched it before she could take a sip) and it really made me get over my fear of the sick and elderly. And when I left those residents were ready for the AARP fall fashion runway. The event was such a hit they asked me to come back on a regular basis. Yay-man!

As I left the home, I was bursting with joy and was overwhelmed with a feeling of well, just good old fashioned happiness. After a lovely afternoon at a friend's family's house (where I got tipsy with his 85 year old grandma - awesome) I went home, did laundry, saw Precious (eh), chatted with mama belle and brother belle on the phone, and went to bed, completely content.

On Sunday I volunteered at a soup kitchen...chile had I known the volunteers go drinking afterwards and watch the Steelers game, I'da volunteered long time ago! Real talk.

Best. Christmas. Ever. Yes, I didn't see my family/old friends, but I still had a fantastic, fulfilling, happy time. From now on I am going to volunteer every holiday season. Especially if I can't go home.

So now Christmas is over and the anti-climactic of all anti-climactic events is upon us: New Year's Eve. Ugh and a half. I was beginning to feel blue as the day slowly approaches...I bought a super cute top/dress just in case I found something to do, but it wasn't looking good. There are parties going on but I have no one to go with as all of my friends in the 'Burgh are either not from here so they are home for the holidays or they will be working (DJ's deejaying, bartenders bartending, etc).

I began to make peace with the fact that I will likely go to work, come home, walk Kingston, and go to bed at 10pm, just like any other day. Boo! Then I remembered one NYE in Philly where I helped out a promoter buddy of mine at the club he was throwing a party at. I was the "guest list girl" and checked people off as they came into the party. It was the best! I still got to dress up, toast at midnight, party til 3, and went home with a couple hundred bucks. That's what I'm talkin' bout! Last year I greeted the new year miserable and out a few hundred bucks and I'll be damned if I repeat that mistake again.

So I asked one of my DJ friends if he knew of anyone/anywhere that needed some guestlist/door help on NYE since I had nothing to do. Turns out he needs help at his two gigs! All of the people who previously said they would assist him were drunk and when they sobered up reneged on their offer. He called me his lifesaver and I am now officially excited for NYE. Not only do I get to dress up and go to two events I wanted to attend anyway, I'll be able to help my buddy and go home with a lil change in my pocket.

And the church said, "Yay-men!"

Kids, this is likely my last post in 2009. I wanted to leave ya with the above stories to let you know that when life gives ya lemons...make lemonade. And add some vodka.

Have a great new years and I'll see you b's in 2010!

Smooches,

KelleBelle

Baby Makin' Music

2009-12-28T13:15:00.000-08:00

One of my male bff's in Philly, "Mayo", and I were chatting about our respective "sexin'" CDs. Or in his words, his "Sackville" album. My playlist is aptly titled, "Business Time", as an ode to Flight of the Concords (if ya don't know - google and get with it).

Besides the usual joints (Sade, Janet, ToniToneTony (the last 4 minutes of "Anniversary" is the BEST), Jodeci, Mary, Marvin, etc.) we traded our more recent additions to the makeout mix: Trey Songz, Amerie, and so on.

But the conversation got interesting when we both admitted neither of us have played our makeout mixes as they were intended: with someone else in the room.

What in the ef? Mayo and I are both good catches (if I do say so myself) yet we haven't had the opportunity to get down to "business" in far too long. I asked him, "how is my love life gon' be in a recession?" Can it get a job please? State assistance? Somethin'.

For 2010 I'm hoping, like the economy, my love life will make a comeback. In the spirit of, "If you build it they will come" (get your mind out the gutter), help me make a new love playlist for the new year and post your song recs in the comments section. Consider it your first "mazel" of 2010.

Smooches,

Kawfee Tawk with your host KB

2009-11-30T12:40:00.000-08:00

Peeps were all a chatter at the coffee station today at work. News stories emerged over the holiday break that really piqued people's interest. A few have been the topic of discussion on this show. Have a read and discuss amongst yaselves.

1. Be careful who your jumpoff is.

http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2009/07/random-thoughts.html

Chile, as soon as the news broke that Tiger Woods ran his car into a tree and a fire hydrant at 2:30 in the a.m., and his wife busted a window with a golf club, my mom and I looked at each other and said, "Mmmhmmm...he cheated!" I didn't buy that "she broke the window to help him get out of the car" line for a milisecond. Unless the car was submerged underwater, there is no circumstance besides being a pissed-off-Angela-Basset-in-Waiting-to-Exhale-scorned-wife that would cause that woman to break the car window. With a golf club.

2. Why'd they have to be black?

http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2009/11/whyd-they-have-to-be-fill-in.html

a. When news reports emerged about a couple of party crashers at President Obama's first state dinner, I said my prayer, "Dear God, please don't let these crashers be black. Please!" Well, God heard me because the tacky fame whore of a couple are whiter than christmas. Phew!

b. A horrible tragedy occured in Washington State on Sunday, when four police officers were gunned down in cold blood by an ex-con. I still do not understand why he was not in prison. He was recently arrested for punching a sherrif's deputy in the face and is about to be or was recently prosecuted for child rape. What in the ef was he doing walking the streets?

I didn't say the prayer but was disappointed to see the culprit. A brotha. And man he really should have been in prison. His rap sheet is ridiculous. He should be in prison for his current criminal activity, but also, a very lengthy prison sentence he received at the age of 17 in 1989 was commuted by then Governor Mike Huckabee. Big mistake. Huge.

And ps: Mr. Huckabee, you really need to fire your spokesperson or whomever put the following statement on your website: "Should he be found to be responsible for this horrible tragedy, it will be the result of a series of failures in the criminal justice system in both Arkansas and Washington State." Um, you just called yourself a failure. Good luck with that 2012 presidential bid.

Self-Reflection through Judd Apatow

2009-11-30T10:51:00.000-08:00

I know what you're thinking. What in hells bells does the writer/director of such hilarious jag-off (Pittsburgh talk for jackass) films as "The 40-Year-Old Virgin", "Pineapple Express", and "Knocked Up" have to do with self-reflection? Well, I'm about to tell ya.

Picture it: this afternoon, in my office. I stream NPR while I'm working for background noise (and of course news, information, and entertainment) and after I played all of today's current programs, I played a segment from "Fresh Air" that originally aired a couple of weeks ago. Judd was interviewed about his latest film, "Funny People", that is about to be released on DVD. So they're chatting about how true-to-life the film is - it's about a very lonely and somewhat depressed mega-star comedian that finds out he has a terminal illness and embarks on a journey of self-reflection (whilst nailing groupies and mentoring an up-and-coming comedian played by Seth Rogan).

Terry Gross, the host of "Fresh Air", asked Judd if he is lonely in real life like the character in the film portrayed by Adam Sandler. Judd (who has known Adam for years - they were roommates in LA when they both started out in their 20s) said Adam used to do this thing when they lived together where he would bring a chair into his bedroom and tell Judd to sit down and talk to him while he tried to fall asleep. He did this because he didn't want to be alone right up until the moment that he fell asleep.

He said Adam grew out of this need but he himself didn't. He explained that he does something similar to keep from being alone at night - he downloads all sorts of NPR programs onto his ipod and listens to them as he falls asleep because he needs another voice to fill his head in order to drown out his own voice/thoughts and keep him company as he tries to fall asleep.

I do the same thing! I know some folks play music softly or have white noise machines but I need to hear actual people talking for me to feel comfortable and be able to fall asleep. I used to always have the TV on (mama belle can't fall asleep without it on - thank goodness for the sleep timer) until my doctor in Philly a few years ago advised me not to have a TV in my bedroom and I haven't had one in there since. So the NPR app on my iphone was heaven sent. I listen to Morning Edition while I get dressed, and download all sorts of programs at night to listen to as I fall asleep.

I can't believe it took Judd Apatow to make me realize what my NPR bedtime stories really are: a substitute for a companion. I have struggled with sleep problems for years and I've always known the only natural (non-medication) cure: another body! I sleep like a baby when I have a beau to share the bed with. Unfortunately, Kingston does not provide the same security and companionship as a human male. Actually, he's kind of a jerky sleeper. He snuck into my bed the other night and I only realized he was in there because I almost fell off the bed - that jerk pushed me to the side so he could get more comfortable in the middle of my huge bed.

Meanwhile, I'm quite cross with all of the doctors, sleep therapists, etc. that over the years have never come close to the enlightening observation that I discovered today.

Mr. Apatow, a tip of my hat.

-KB

(Ed. Note: I found the above lightbulb picture on a blog called "Kellifornia Dreaming". I'm totally biting that title and am mad at myself for not coming up with it!)

I get it from my mama

2009-11-24T07:34:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not referring to the killer curves I inherited from Mama Belle or her unyielding adoration for copious amounts of accessories. The old adage, "remove one accessory before you leave the house" did NOT exist in the KB household. Not by a long shot.

The title of this post is in reference to little mom-isms that I have caught myself doing:

1. Expressing disdain.

"Beg your pardon?" "Excuse me?" Please note the preceding expressions must always accompany a slightly tilted head to the right, raised right eyebrow, and left hand on left hip. Also the "a" in pardon and "u" in excuse are usually lengthened for emphasis. "Excuuse me?" That's all it takes for someone to know I mean business.

2. Accepting/tolerating dramatic friends.

I don't know if I'm getting more patient as I mature or what, but I have noticed that I am the go-to friend for my gals that are constantly in a state of catastrophe (real or made up) either personal, professional, metaphysical, etc. One dramatic diva friend of mine told me recently that she needed me, specifically, to vent to because I'm the friend that listens and doesn't tell her what to do. In all honesty, I listen because I find her drama often times entertaining, and it makes me feel good about my relatively drama-free existence. The reason why I don't tell her what to do is because I know she wouldn't listen anyway, so why waste my breath? And if it makes her feel better to drone on and on about some silly boy or lame co-worker, yap away. I'm all ears.

My mother has an amazing ability to accept the most trifling of friends. I'll describe two in particular which I still cannot believe she has remained dear friends with over the years.

The first is a friend she has known for over 30 years. Over that time, said friend has on average been approximately 3-5 hours late for anything and everything. When I was around 14, my mom was almost late for a flight because this friend was two hours late picking her up to go to the airport. I asked my mom how she could still be friends with this person? She said, "Ya know what Kel, years ago I had to decide if I could look past this person's faults and accept them, flaws and all. I decided our friendship was worth it, so I deal with her flaws and don't let them get to me." Usually, my mom just tells said friend to arrive 4 hours before the actual start/pick up time, and that usually works.

The other friend is basically a meaner, bougie, black version of "Ma" on the Golden Girls. She talks smack about everyone and anyone and knows everything about anything. She's loud, and just sooo extra. How extra? This b will rock her floor length white fur coat to church in April. ps: It's usually around 70-75 degrees in April in LA. But my mom somewhow tolerates the extra and her mouth and accepts her for who she is. Which is a mean witch in my opinion. I usually brush off her meddling ("I just don't understand why you are still single."), and when she starts bragging about her kids or fluffing up her resume I just feign excitement and pretend I'm impressed. What else does she have to do? She's a widow living in a retirement community. So brag away Sophia.

3. Being prepared to the nth degree.

When I travel, even for two days, I will bring no less than 14 possible outfits, a few frocks that I think maybe a friend would like to borrow, every hair and makeup tool you can think of, a few extra tracks just in case, and every toiletry you can think of. I'm also the one who, when we're out at a club, restaurant, etc. am the go-to gal for anything: a safety pin, nail file, lotion, band-aid, anti-bacterial hand sanitizer, lip gloss, bonding glue, you get it.

My mother arrived last night to spend thanksgiving with me this week. What did she pack? Chile, she opened up her suitcase and I was literally staring at the pantry in our house in LA. Who packs Thyme? Or chicken bouillon? Or a can of cream of mushroom soup? Or (and this one takes the cake) reynolds wrap?! My mom. I asked her what she was thinking, as I had about half of the supplies she packed. She said, "Well, I know you don't cook often so I thought I'd bring some supplies just in case." Gotta love her.

Meanwhile, I read yesterday that a tavern in Manhattan is serving an alcoholic turkey on Thanksgiving. The bird will be infused with 100-proof fruit flavored vodka (peach, rasberry, cherry, and apple) for three days prior to roasting. The gravy will also be laced with liquor.

Sorry moms, I'm going to NYC on Thursday.

Happy Turkey Day everyone!

-KelleBelle

Do Opposites Really Attract?

2009-11-17T09:35:00.000-08:00

It's getting a bit too heavy in here, no? So let's lighten up the joint a bit.

I've been having some great convos with my main b's lately about "soul mates", monogamy, dating, marriage, yada yada yada. After all of these great convos I'm always left wondering why I never seem to find anyone I really vibe with. I mean, legitimately vibe with. Not a fleeting flirty fling. Then I went through my mental rolodex of gents that I legitimately vibe on the platonic tip with but never consider as a possible romantic suitor because there is something that is just too big to get over. A deal-breaker, if you will.

One of my main b's asked me if perhaps I should re-evaluate deal-breakers and see if they truly are obstacles that I can't get over, or if I just need to get over myself. In typical KB style, I've compiled a list of potential deal-breakers that may prevent a pair to go from friends to something more.

1. Religion.

I'm not talking about the "I have a cross tattooed on my right bicep underneath the penn state mascot" kind of religion. I mean, pray before each meal, in church/temple/mosque every week, and can recite passages from their religious text of choice on a dime, kind of religion.

I'm definitely not against anyone with the above characteristics. However, what I have found is that for the most part, people that share these attributes usually follow a lifestyle that is not compatible with mine.

First of all, I like my weekends. To sleep in, to watch cartoons, to work out, whatever. I don't like having anything on my plate that I have to commit to on a weekly basis.

Second, I have found that those who are religious (not just spiritual - but truly denominational) usually have a tinge of the judgy-wudgy-was-a-bear in them. Or more than a tinge and straight up judge folks.

Third, I think I simply swear and drink too much to be with anyone that religious. I'm a card carrying heathen but at the end of the day I try to be generous, thoughtful, and non-judgmental. And I pray, just not sure to who (or is it whom?).

2. Sobriety

This is a biggie for me. Probably even more so than religion. (Now THAT is some heathenry right there.) I can definitely date someone who doesn't drink. But I'd have to date them only during daytime hours (and not during football season) because I feel completely uncomfortable drinking around sober people. I suppose it's a control issue: if I'm not completely in control of my motor skills, you shouldn't be either.

I try not to look down at drunk folks when I am sober, but it's hard not to laugh when you see someone slurring their words and swaying like a tree, yet denying they're drunk as a skunk. But the thing is at least I've been there so I'm not judging them. Because I get it. But if I had never been three sheets to the wind, I'd likely look down on them and shake my head in judgment.

A friend of mine suggested that I stop drinking and then I'd get rid of that deal-breaker. Instead, I got rid of that friend and their nonsense talking.

3. Ethnicity/Race

Chile, we talk about this one too much already on this show so I won't go too much into it. As a mixy myself I've seen the drawbacks to the swirl situation. Example A: I have no relationship at all with the kosher vanilla side of my ancestry. But honestly at the end of the day, and I know this sounds completely corny, I really think love will conquer all. I mean, real -mary j. blige kind of- love. Not infatuation, settling/complacency, or lust. If I actually vibed with someone hard core, I wouldn't care if they were turquoise with pink polka dots. Just don't put your hand in my hair and keep me laughing and my cocoa butter supply stocked.

4. Fitness/Nutrition

Can a gym rat and a couch potato really stay together til the end? I'm not sure about this one. Sharing a healthy, active lifestyle in common can really bring a couple together. I love exercising with my beau when I have one. There's nothing like jogging together or playing basketball and working up a sweat with your amore that strengthens a bond.

Also, the level of activity can be a reflection of one's priorities. And hey, if they have other priorities (an extremely demanding job/a dependant/an old injury/etc) that come before their physical fitness, I understand, but I know -for me- how I treat my body is a pretty good indicator of how I'm treating myself on the inside.

Then again, some folks don't use ben&jerry's as their coping mechanism so obviously there are other indicators of one's self worth/mental health status than their physical fitness. I know more than a few gorgeous, fit folks who are an emotional mess and treat their bodies like hell.

5. Money/Education

I'm combining these two because they're often interrelated. Can a park avenue diva stay true to a broke brotha who's 35 and still working on his "album"? That's a toughie. I know recently I've heard of how the economic crisis has torn couples apart, or at the very least have put a strain on their relationship. But on the outset, does money really matter? I think earning potential at the outset is more important than what you actually have in the bank at that moment. It also depends on what kind of lifestyle each party is striving for.

I have no problem dating a grad student, a self-taught entrepreneur who's saving up to start their own business, a teacher, a community activist, etc. But if you're knocking on 40, still chasing an unrealistic dream (dude, the cook-your-own-pizza-in-an-oven shop is not gonna happen), living beyond your meager means, and are living in student housing in betwixt couch surfing? Um, I gotta say the magic 8 ball is not looking so good.

Meanwhile, watch I marry up a sober greek orthodox muslim morbidly obese aspiring juggler who still lives at home.

Smooches,

KelleBelle

Newsdaze

2009-11-16T12:23:00.000-08:00

Hey kids. I've been an old bitty lately, following a ho-hum schedule of work, gym, sleep. Work, gym, sleep. Rinse and repeat. But I've been keeping up to date (as I am known to do) with the goings-on in the country and the world (hopefully this week will be easy on the anti-dark skin tomfoolery that plagued the airwaves last week). A few noteworthy news stories have captured my attention recently. Two of them somber, and one very inspiring and downright amazing (I'll save the best for last):

1. Ex-Congressman Jefferson receives 13 years in prison.

http://www.latimes.com/news/la-na-jefferson-sentence14-2009nov14,0,3620712.story

This story caught my attention not just because of the scandal factor (hiding bribery cash in the freezer) but because I went to law school with his daughter. We were not close friends, but cordial (as most black students were on the HLS campus).

I looked at the Jefferson family with envy as a real-life Huxtable clan: of the 5 daughters, 3 went to Harvard college and Harvard Law School, one is currently in medical school, and the other is a documentary filmmaker. Talk about giving the Cosby kids a run for their money (did Denise ever get a steady job? Or Vanessa?). But alas, everything is not always what they seem. I'm not saying that the family must take on the shame of their convicted patriarch, but it will be tough for any of them to distance themselves from his conviction.

I didn't know about his sibling's (and one niece's) scandal! Making this family's business even more juicy and prime for a Law&Order "ripped from the headlines" episode. See the family section: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_J._Jefferson)

2. Chicago School Board President's body found in river; death ruled a suicide.

http://www.suntimes.com/news/24-7/1886301,michael-scott-body-river-education-111509.article

Possibly another case of abuse of authority, or simply the pressure of it all - even an allegation of such abuse, proved too much. Awful.

3. Finally, a story to turn that frown upside down!

Triumph of a Dreamer: Any time anyone tells you that a dream is impossible, any time you're discouraged by impossible challenges, just mutter this mantra: Tererai Trent.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/15/opinion/15kristof.html?emc=eta1

One of the truly amazing aspects of her story is that she managed to find a second husband during her journey. Work! Real talk: the strength of the human spirit never ceases to amaze me. This woman is the picture of strength, love, and perseverance. And I love the community support she received, both in Zimbabwe and in Oklahoma. Big-ups to the homie at Walmart. That's love.

Dear Sammy Sosa: I cant. Sincerely, KelleBelle

2009-11-11T12:13:00.000-08:00

But I will, for the entertainment of our readers.

What in the skin bleaching hell is wrong with you? Did you really think your new Casper the Self-Hating Ghost skin tone was just going to fly under the radar? If you really wanted to keep your skin bleaching game under wraps, you shouldn't have done the following:

1. Bleach your skin. What in the ef.

2. If you insist on bleaching your skin, do not choose a minority centered event to make your new light skindded debut. Why the Latin Grammys? Why? Que lastima.

3. Do not try to explain away your new fair hue by blaming it as a side effect on a "skin-rejuvenation" treatment or the flash of the cameras. No dice.

a. You don't need skin rejuvenation. You are black (yes I know he is Dominican, but I'm speaking of his skin tone here). You won't crack. Even after years of playing baseball in the sun. And you're young! 40 years young. Your PR guy told you to blame it on skin rejuvenation treatments didn't he? Fire him asap.

b. Those cameras must have a flash brighter than the surface of the sun to make you that damn light. B please.

4. The light skin coupled with the GREEN eye contacts seal the deal. It's a wrap. If you had any chance to deny a skin lightening/self-hate accusation, it went down the drain when you put those fake eyes in. You couldn't just retire quietly eh? Instead, you decide to make a run for Smokey Robinson's money. Shake my damn head.

5. I will not call you out for your konk because you seemed to rock that hairdon't pre-skin lightening. But it doesn't help your case.

Sammy joins a loooong list of black celebrities that have gone the skin bleaching route:

1. MJ.

2. The rest of the Jacksons save for Rebbie and Janet (although I bet she's emptied a tube or two of Ambi in her lifetime).

3. Lil' Kim.

Who am I missing?

-KB

UPDATE (11/11): Just as I published this here post, I read the following story of a mixed-race contestant on "Oriental Idol" (jeez) in China. Oy to the vey. See what you're doing Sammy?! Not helping this lil lady's self-esteem at all. I may take my weave out as a sign of solidarity.

Check it: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120311417

UPDATE (11/12): Apparently this is anti-dark skin week. What in the flippin' hell. I listened to this NPR story on the way into work this morning, and one particular interviewee presented an interesting explanation on the obsession with white (or light) skin:

In India, Skin-Whitening Creams Do Brisk Business

Listen here:http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120340646

Why'd they have to be (fill in ethnicity/race here)?!

2009-11-10T06:39:00.000-08:00

Hey kiddos. I've written about the collective sigh of relief or heavy moan of disappointment when a tragedy occurs and the culprit is found to be a member of one's community, or not.

See: http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2007/11/whyd-they-have-to-be-black.html

The D.C. Sniper (scheduled to be executed this week), Kanye West's mother's plastic surgeon, M.J.'s doctor, etc., were all the subjects of prayers by the black community hoping the suspects were not black, and then sadly, taking on a bit of the shame the suspects took on once their identities became known.

Last week, two shooting sprees occurred and both shooters appear to be minorities. Not black though. Phew! That's not funny. But real talk, they are minorities, one a Muslim Jordanian-American, and one a Latino man. One of my favorite NPR personalities, Michele Martin, talked about the ethnicities of the gunmen, and why it matters. Take a look at a few excerpts from the story:

Ethnicity Matters, Especially If You're the Gunman

"Finally, just a few more words about last week's twin tragedies: the shooting at Fort Hood, Texas, and the following day in Orlando, Florida. Both of those put me in the mind of a habit many of us had when I was growing up...We would run to the television when we saw a black person on it, literally, run and call everybody to the set to watch...

...it was considered such a rarity and of such importance, it was assumed everyone would want to know about it, unless, of course, it was something embarrassing, like a black person being arrested for something. Which brings me to the other thing we would all do when I was growing up: We would pray - sometimes silently, but very often out loud - that if something bad had happened, a crime or some other mishap, that no black person was involved. It was assumed that success was individual but failure or disgrace was collective...

...So, I think I understand how some of my fellow citizens feel right now as they watch the news unfold about a Muslim Army psychiatrist who allegedly massacred more than a dozen of his colleagues and wounded more than 30 others. And then, the following day, a Latino man shot up his former workplace. And this follows, of course, the shooting at Virginia Tech, where a student who'd immigrated from Korea shot and killed dozens of fellow students and faculty...

...I can understand how members of these groups felt then and now, a sense of anger and shame. The shock of recognition that they too might have shared some of these assailants' resentments at one point about small or not-so-small slights and then the revulsion that someone would take innocent lives because of those resentments. Then there's the wondering: How do my fellow Americans see me now?

Can I just tell you I can also see where some Americans are puzzled by all this? ...they wonder what on earth minorities in this country have to complain about. They either don't believe minorities experience these slights or wonder why those slights loom so large...

I just know that I hope when my children see that a black person does something wrong, they'll say that's a shame, not their shame."

For the entire story, either in text or as audio, go to: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120238969

Whatever the ethnicity of the gunman, hopefully there won't be any more shooting sprees.

Smooches,

My anonymity called, it misses me.

2009-11-04T12:21:00.000-08:00

I quit facebook today.

I warned my close friends in August to not get used to me being on facebook again because I'd be quitting sometime around Halloween. Yet, I still caught a lot of flack.

"Why?!!! A stalker?"

"Nooooo!!! Come back!!!"

"Lol. A mess." (-Jake)

I even got a reply that one facebook-loving friend had, unbeknownst to me, quit facebook a few weeks ago. I asked her why and she said she was "over the lack of human contact and nosiness of it all." Which is a part of my reasoning for never staying on the 'book too long.

I find it disconcerting when people make important announcements and conduct business on facebook. What is more bothersome is when people use it as a passive aggressive tool to communicate your distaste for someone. Not that I have been the target of such tomfoolery, but I've seen it. And I too, am over it.

I've written about my distaste for facebook before:

http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2008/05/update-10-things-i-dont-like-about.html

http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2008/04/10-things-i-dont-like-about-facebook.html

But this go 'round I realized one positive aspect about it that I hadn't previously - reconnecting with folks from my past that I was actually happy to see again. Oh crap, I forgot to send my old junior high school pal that found me on facebook my email address so we can still hang out when I go home for the holidays. Ah well. She looked a bit rough anyway.

Anywhether, FB served its purpose: I was able to update my friends about my new location, and I made a few new friends in Pittsburgh. I found out about many events going on in the city that I suppose I wouldn't know about had I not been on facebook. But then again, I really didn't attend any of those events anyway. So...it's quittin' time. I did enough self-promotion and f*ckery to last me a lifetime. The friends I want to keep communicating with already have my phone number and e-mail address. And I can find out the goings on from the city paper. Also, I need to start REALLY burning the midnight oil at work, so the less distractions, the better.

Lastly, I am not condemning the use of the 'book by others. I know I just prefer life without it.

Fin.

I mean, smooches!

Back in the Days...

2009-11-01T18:14:00.000-08:00

Jake has smoked his fair share of reefer. Maybe a bit more than a fair share. Yesterday, I decided that it’s time for me to quit the smoking of the reefer. I am getting too old and it is getting too old. So, yesterday I took my last hit. About an hour ago I searched my apartment for any pipe, grinder or bag that might have some remaining pot dust. Epic fail. This is going to be rough.

I am sitting here reminiscing about my crack head years and it made me think about all my dealers from years past and how I came to know them. Ahhh memories.

First, let me say that I used to just be a casual smoker. Smoke with friends, smoke whatever I could get my hands on, but rarely did I have my own stash and definitely did not have a dealer. This all changed one day when my next door neighbor, a woman who I had intentionally avoided for several months in the tradition of NYC, got drunk and forced her way into my apartment and my life. We had previously wondered how the only two negroes in the building ended up on the same floor across the hall from each other, but after spending some time together we realized how much we had in common and that it was probably God and not the racists apartment managers that made us neighbors.

One thing we had in common? We both liked to smoke pot on occasion, but had nowhere to get any. So, began the friendship and the thing that would bond us for years: weed and ridiculousness. We immediately began trying to figure out how to get some reefer. Anyone who knows us must know exactly where we would start, right? The doorman!!!

It was a drunken night when she convinced me that the path to a weed man started with the doorman. Afterall, the doorman was common folk there to do whatever we wanted, so the question seemed reasonable and perfectly natural even, so long as it was me and not she who placed the call. In the end it worked. We ended up with Shabba! That’s such a fitting name for a drug dealer don’t you think? Shabba was one of those Africans that’s not really cute, but ridiculously hot? Okay, this one wasn’t ridiculously hot, but I (we- admit it bitch) wanted to bang him. He was an okay guy, but he didn’t last very long. The theory goes that he got locked up because his number stopped working.

Then came the dude after Shabba. Don’t know his name, but he was the sequel in the series of doorman supplied weed men. This time, neighbor and I decide that it’s probably best to ask the Black doorman and not the Hispanic doorman because, well it just makes sense. This guy wasn’t cute, was shotty on the delivery and didn’t last very long. The theory goes that he too got locked up.

Ultimately, it was decided that doormen supplied dealers were not the most reliable source. First, they are minorities and thus prone to get locked up. Second, delivery gets delayed by inter-borough traveling. Third, they tend to nickel and dime you and I am too classy for that.
Then one brisk fall afternoon I happened to be shopping in the city with my main gay and we found this odd woman in a thrift store. She was a Sue Sylvester, Jackie from workout looking lesbian with tattoos and under-arm hair. Real scary. But some how we ended up talking about reefer and how organic reefer is better than regular. I told her I had quit smoking for a while to prove I wasn’t addicted, but she convinced me that I did not have an addiction, but instead had a habit. I was a habitual pot smoker. Whatevs lesbian, we left.

I get back home and explain the story to neighbor and she decides that this lady is the perfect person to solve our weed man problem. Thus the story of the EPIC JOURNEY!! The journey was epic because me and neighbor never left our apartment and when we did leave we didn’t go further than the dumplings store 3.5 blocks away. We had once considered going to the Bed, Bath & Beyond that was about 8 blocks away, but thought better of it. This would require that we travel over 6 blocks, but that included long avenues. Actually, it would require more than that because I had no idea where the thrift store was. It was nowhere near wear I originally thought so we ended up walking half way and then catching a cab, but in route we encountered a man skipping through traffic, another man banging on cars in traffic and a man who we were certain was a flasher. (Trench coat and no pants is not okay). In any event, the walk/cab ride seems like it took hours, but may have only taken minutes.

We show up at the thrift store only to find the giant lesbian lady with a giant killer parakeet on her shoulder. I thought we would die that very day by that bird. It made some crazy noises directed at me and I was convinced that the thing hated me because I was a man, but it could have been the bright ass shirt I was wearing. In any event, we would have to pretend shop for 20 minutes until the bird and its owner left the store leaving us a moment to ask ma’am for her weed contact.

It works. She gives us a number and says when you call say you got the number from Jane, and are friends of Sarah Lee. To this day we have no idea if Sarah Lee is a person (there are no damn Sarah Lees in NYC) or if that was code, but we called and said exactly what we were told. Weed man was there within the hour. But, you should have seen the crtackhead dance we did when we got the number. Can you picture me and neigbor literally arm in arm, dancing in circles in the middle of Chelsea? Well, picture it!!

To our surprise it was a old white man! He would deliver to us for over a year without incident and without delay. No small talk, no BS, just business. Although, once he asked to use my bathroom. Dude is like the Tiger Woods of drug dealing. I miss him. I will always miss him.
But alas, I moved away! To a small college town, which is known for having good weed and on my second day in town…I found myself a weed man. I figured I would just go to my local gay bar and find someone who looked like a pot head and go from there. That failed, but on my way out of the bar a man asked me if I wanted to drive around with him in his car and smoke a blunt. I literally gagged!!! I was like, ummm, excuse me sir? How dare you. I am not getting in a car with a strange man! But, I’ll walk and smoke witcha!

There’s so much more to this story, but this blog is already too long. Stay tuned for the completion of this story…

Love you, mean it!

Jake & Kelly Get Preggers

2009-10-29T11:22:00.000-07:00

Jokes.

But in real news, a post on Essence.com brought up an old idea that W.E.B. Dubois first brought up in 1903. Basically the notion that successful, educated people (black women in particular) should procreate more. You can infer why.

Here's a snippet of the post:

http://www1.essence.com/relationships/men/articles/succesful_black_women_are_we_obligated_to_reproduce/

A curious idea was posed to me, and by extension, all Black women like me. A
woman, Dominique (not her real name), suggested that it was my duty as an
educated, sensible African-American woman to get married and procreate.

DUH!

I mean hello, who doesn't want to re-create the Obamas, the Huxtables, or the Winslow clan on Family Matters (save for Judy...yikes)?

My problem is the idea that we are obligated to reproduce. I think (as does Dorothy, who makes some great points in her comment to this post) the obligation should be to support our community, and not necessarily to get knocked up right this minute. I'd love to reproduce but since that isn't happening nan time soon I will support the children that are in existence right now.

Also, there is no guarantee that successful, educated parents will raise successful, educated children. And just because someone is not educated does not mean they will fail as a parent. Not at all.

However, I couldn't help but think about a recent conversation my mother and I had. She is with our family in North Carolina and Philly this week and of course she gave me the latest family drama report. One cousin is at the age of 37 a mother of 5 (I'm not going to say how many fathers, but it's more than one), grandmother of 3, and has never held a steady job. Which isn't surprising - she has been quite busy with all them kids, and TLC ain't handing out reality shows in the 'hood. Another cousin, who as a senior in high school, just had his second child...with a different girl than the mother of his first child, born earlier this year.

Meanwhile, my mother is grandchildless and her children are arguably the most successful of the bunch.

What in the ef.

My question is, if it's my "duty" to procreate and create a more well-rounded African-American community...does that mean I have to get knocked up by a black man? Have ya seen the statistics? What about a halfer like me? Or a very tan Mediterranean man? I can't give any guarantees, but I'll try my best. In the meantime, I'll stick to being a positive role model to young sisters and brothers (of any race) and breaking stereotypes along the way.

Smooches,

Kulture Klash

2009-10-02T06:47:00.000-07:00

As y'all know, KB can kick it with just about anybody. Growing up in a black household in a white neighborhood and being mistaken for hispanic or asian on the regular, I can pretty much roll with any squad and feel comfy.

But sometimes little things remind me of our differences.

Scenario #1: Diet.

I was at a lovely "young professionals" mixer on Wednesday and as we were noshing on the delectable veggies and dips, I mentioned to one of my kickball teammates (white woman) that I never knew of or ate hummus until I was a junior in college, where it was served at a reception.

She almost fell to the floor. "What?! You never had hummus until college? How is that possible?" After a somewhat awkward pause (on my part) I replied, "I was raised in a black household. We don't eat hummus." She twisted her face, thought about it, and said, "Oh okay, I see." And then we talked about it a bit and she mentioned that as a kid growing up in Detroit she noticed that black Muslims ate hummus, but she can't recall non-Muslim black folks gettin' in on the chickpea game.

Scenario #2: The club.

A friend of mine is in town this week and we went out on Monday night. First stop was a lovely jazz lounge where the crowd was oh say 60% black, 35% white, and 5% other. We had a great time and chatted with practically everyone there, accepted a few numbers (teehee), and listened to some great music.

Then we went to a "club" on the other side of town.

The crowd was about 90% white, 6% other, and 4% black. I counted the number of black folks: me, my girl, and two dudes that clearly were NOT there to talk to black girls. Which is fine, whatever floats your boat (and they were fug anyway). But what wasn't fine was the feeling that I often feel (and my dark chocolate girls feel more often so they tell me) when I go to a predominately white venue: invisibility.

I may get a quick stare or two, but rarely am I approached. Once in a while a brave (read: liquid courage) white soul will try to holler, but I usually have to make eye contact and give the green light to approach as if saying with my eyes, "Don't worry, I'm white-friendly and only mildly offensive." But I've seen my girls really feel awkward and put in a sour mood when they walk into a joint and feel as if no one is even acknowledging their presence. And let's be real: if you're single and go to the club, you're trying to holler or get hollered at. And whether we like it or not the fact is that the majority of people date inside of their race. (KB doesn't discriminate but I do tend to side with men with whom I don't have to explain the necessities of cocoa butter and hair grease.)

My DJ friend is having a big party tonight at a new club but I know what the deal is going to be...invisibility to the nth degree. Instead, my bff and I are going to stick to the plan and go to the lounge again where they are having a more chocolate friendly crowd.

I'd go to the other party and still have fun but I know already that my friend will not, and I want everyone in my squad to be nappy and happy.

Smooches!

KelleBelle

Kurrent Events

2009-09-10T09:11:00.000-07:00

I'm really getting tired of the disrespect President Obama has been receiving. It's one thing for gun-toting inbred hicks to throw some hate, but a congressman? Bush would never receive such rudeness. Perhaps because Dems will talk about you, but mostly behind your back via liberal media. Trash talking is going to happen but don't be tacky about it. "You lie"? That's not even a complete sentence. As Thembi put it, the correct phrasing is, "You A lie." Moron.

Drug abuse/addiction has been in the headlines lately. DJ AM's relapse and subsequent overdose and then the awful video of Maia Campbell making the rounds on the internets have made addiction a definite water cooler topic. I've always been a fan of A&E's "Intervention" and other drug related documentaries ("Cocaine Nation" on the Discovery channel is really good). I started to think about why some people are prone to addiction/abuse and some aren't. Then I thought of what was taught in school. Remember, "D.A.R.E."? I didn't learn much in those classes - except when the police officer brought in replicas of street drugs and we got to look at them. I doubt the program had a huge effect on me. But you know what did? Movies. I had a full year of nightmares after watching Chris Tucker overdose in "Dead Presidents." Tack on another two years of nightmares after watching Chris Rock get cracked out in New Jack City. That scared me the hell straight. That's what kids should be watching in health class. Bump "Breakfast Club." (I love the movie but I really didn't see the point of watching it as a 15 year old in health class and then being asked which character I identified with. My teacher was not amused with my response: "No one.")

In kidnapping news...I'm still in shock over the recovery of Jaycee Dugard. What a nightmare. She's jacked for life, as are the kids she had with her kidnapper. I'm most in shock that the kidnapper has plead not guilty. Dude, what the eff. It's a wrap.

With the recent news that those weirdos the Duggards are now on baby 19, I may have to co-sign a limit on the number of babies a woman can birth. I mean really. 19? And now that those nitwits the Gosselin's and the Octo-mom have made having a litter of children profitable, I really may co-sign a baby making limit. In fact, I think Jaycee Dugard's mother should be able to pick out a Duggard kid and get to raise one as a way to make up for the lost time due to Jaycee's kidnapping.

Speaking of stealing kids, I may steal from a kid. The swine flu vaccine is going to be made available free to new york city public school kids. I may have to pop into PS 11 and swipe a shot real quick. It's funny, I didn't really take the risk of the flu seriously until Rachel Maddow admitted on the Jimmy Fallon show that she had it. I figure if a smart, hygienic (she looks like she carries hand sanitizer in her murse), person like Rachel can get it, I can.

In TV news...Tyra, I'm so through with you. Wig, weave, "natural," jheri, just shut it and host top model. Thanks. Entourage has been predictable and boring. I still don't get the whole vampire thing - True Blood and those Twilight flicks...um, yeah, I don't really eff with vampires except around Halloween. But enjoy. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia finally premieres next week. It's about damn time.

In sporting news...I think because I'm now a resident of one of the most football obsessed cities in the country, I'm really into football this year. NFL, College, even fantasy. I even started to learn the player's names. Can't wait to watch the Steelers, Eagles (mmm Michael Vick), and of course my beloved Trojans.

Late add (9/14): The VMAs. First off, they still have that show? I thought it was cancelled. Or maybe I just have ignored it the past few years. I've never viewed a VMA telecast in one sitting. I'll catch a snippet here and there during the gazillion replays. I caught Kanye's tackiness, Beyonce's graciousness, and a chubb rock Janet Jackson paying tribute to her bro. Um, is it just me or were her moves not as crisp as usual? I think with her added weight her dance moves just aren't as tight as when she has the 6 pack. And is it just me or was it kind of shady to release a single after the show? Cashing in on her bro's dedication...how very Joe Jackson of her.

Ellen is going to be on Idol. I haven't watched the show since the large black man beat out the weird looking white fellow, so I really don't care.

Tyler Perry has caused much melee by allegedly being interested in Beyonce to star in his film adaptation of "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf". Bey, please don't make me turn on you. I am a huge fan but please, please don't ruin this important piece. Keep making exercise class soundtracks and crappy clothes. I beg you.

Smooches,

The Real Me

2009-09-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

While tying my shoes for the third time at the gym the other day, I started to think about quirky little things about me that no one knows about. It got me thinking about my friends and what little oddities they keep hidden from the world. I found out that one friend has an unusual reaction when she goes to yoga class...a very sensual reaction if you know what I mean! Yowza.

In typical KB fashion, I've compiled a list of things you may not know about me:

1. I never learned how to tie my shoes. For whatever reason, I was never formally taught how to tie my laces. As a young lass, I would look over at my brother when he tied his and tried to copy his method. I don't think I copied it correctly because around the age of 12 a friend noticed how I tied my shoes and commented about my process. She said she had never seen anyone tie their shoes like I did. I shrugged it off and kept it moving. I mean, my laces were tied so who cares about the process? Like a hot dog factory, you're only concerned with the end result, don't worry about how the final product was made. However, recently I've noticed that I have to re-tie my shoes more often than I assume I should. In this day of you-tube, I may have to check out a video on proper shoe tying, and finally learn how to tie my shoes. And yes, I'm knocking on 30 years of age.

2. When I look up the customer service contact numbers for various services (utilities, etc.), I'm often tempted to call the hearing impaired number just to see what happens. I know, I'm completely going to hell for even thinking about this. I've never called but boy am I tempted.

3. I never liked peanut butter growing up until I found out, as a teen, that it was extremely high in fat. After finding out its fat content and the need to limit one's intake, I was hooked on the stuff. Do yourself a favor and check out Smucker's crustless PB&J sammiches in the frozen food section of the grocery store. Yum.

4. I'm extremely flexible. My arms can stretch back farther than most, often eliciting a shriek from bystanders when I stretch, lift a barbell, or during yoga class. The flexibility of course came in handy as a javelin thrower in college. And also when I need to grab something behind me and I don't feel like turning around.

5. I probably shouldn't tell you this since someone out there may use this against me as a torture technique, but what the hell. I'm extremely - extremely - ticklish. How ticklish you ask? During a pedicure I once kicked the lady in the chin while she massaged my foot. I have to hold onto the chair for dear life when she's scrubbing the bottom of my feet. Also, when most people cry and scream in pain during a bikini wax, I laugh like crazy. It does hurt but I'm so sensitive and ticklish just a touch on my thigh will send me into a giggle fit. Don't judge me, I'm not a sado-masochist. I swear! My mom said she was really ticklish growing up but lost it when she was around 30. So I've got a couple more years of the inappropriate bursts of laughter.

6. I'm slightly obsessed with numbers. I don't want to go really into it in this public setting, but let's just say I don't really celebrate the new year at 12:00am. I raise my glass at 12:34...and 56 seconds. And if I happen to glance at a clock and it happens to be 12:34, I grin from ear to ear and make a wish. The key is that you can't stare at the time until it turns to 12:34, you have to catch it. I've been doing this since I first learned to tell time. Also, I've felt very lucky to live in an era with so many great date sequences: 7/7/07, 6/7/08, 5/7/09, etc. Go ahead and make fun. It's my thing.

7. I had to add another item, to make the list a solid 7 (my favorite number). Can't end at 6, that's just not right. (See above.)

Your turn. What are some things about you that no one knows about?

Smooches,

KelleBelle

KelleBelle and the City

2009-08-31T12:28:00.000-07:00

Picture it: New York, August 2009. KB heads to NYC to reconnect with her fam: besties from law school, Boston, and Philly.

We hit a few bars on Friday night and it's full of pictures, cocktails, weaves, and giggles. Between bar #1 and #2, I lose my iPhone. Tragic, right? As soon as we arrived at bar #2, I checked my ridiculously small purse and immediately noticed the absence of my phone. My heart dropped and everyone gave me a sympathetic look. My one friend told me that I better hope I left it at bar #1 and not in the cab, because if it's in the cab, it's gone forever. Absolutely no chance of recovery. We called bar #1 and no phone. I began to make mental lemonade: no biggie, I'll hop to an Apple/AT&T store in the morning and get another one; I just got this new phone so I was still missing a lot of contacts anyway; at least I have my health...yada yada.

Ten minutes go by...and my friend receives a text...from me! The angel who found my phone said he'd leave it with his doorman and he completely understands the heartbreak of losing your iPhone, as he had done so a few weeks ago in L.A.

Everyone almost fainted in shock at the turn of events. I simply smiled and thought, of course my phone was found by a good person. Why? Because I'm blessed! I've told y'all how well everything has been going lately. So well that I'm trying not to become paranoid that something awful is on the horizon. Just letting the good karma flow...so when we scooped up my phone on our way to bar #3, I was glowing like a bulb. Just enjoying the good fortune and thanking the heavens for my blessings (and leaving a note to the good samaritan that if he ever finds himself in need of assistance in Pittsburgh or LA, let me know).

Bar #3 was the best: it was as if I had stepped into my favorite hip hop lounge in Philly! Apparently it was the first night of a new residence for one of my fav Philly dj's and half the city came with. Ran into some old law school classmates...and met a cutie!

Can you say best night ever?

My bff and I were up mid-morning on Saturday to take a jog around lovely Brooklyn and afterwards headed to the MJ Birthday party in the park. I was a bit underwhelmed by the lack of "show" - there weren't any vendors or performances or entertainment...just a bunch of folks standing in a field, sometimes being addressed by Spike Lee, Ed Lover, and I believe Rev. Sharpton.

But I was really there to see my buddies, which was the best. Afterwards I parted with my BK crew and kicked it with my Philly pals who were in the city. We spent the rest of the evening kicking it with their Philly film crew folks and watched a rough cut of the film they all met on which will be out this fall. Um, I'm going to be FIRST in line when it comes out. Trust. Let's just say there was lots of shirtless pseudo teen porn (male/female; male/male; male/female/male) -- pseudo because all actors were 21+ (taking me out of the pedophile race, right? hello?); and Sandra Bernhard, Ana Gasteyer, Alan Cummings and the city of Philadephia are all co-stars in the film. Need I say more?

Sunday was brunch day with my family - bff from law school (referred to on the J&K show as "Elaine") and her gorgeous daughter and papa. The last time I saw them was in January in LA when they surprised me for my birthday. Elaine's daughter proclaimed on Sunday, "Kelly's all growned up!" upon seeing me. I think that's a good thing! Then she expressed her desire to wear dresses with no straps like mama and I. Not until you're at least in the double digits, young lady.

After brunch I returned to where I was staying and chilled out for a moment to reflect on all of the good fortune I've received, and how lucky I am to have such a vast family of friends. And the best part is I still have to visit my fam (friends and blood relatives) in Philly and DC and elsewhere. I'm one lucky Belle.

The weekend concluded with a lovely date with the aforementioned cutie I met on Friday. Swoon and a half.

I returned to Pittsburgh this morning and although I miss my squad already, I couldn't wait to get back to my life here as I begin to expand my circle of friends yet again, adding to the KB family tree.

Love y'all!

KelleBelle

Random Thoughts: Pet Peeves

2009-08-24T10:33:00.000-07:00

In this edition of Random Thoughts, I'm going to list a couple of annoyances that have gotten to me lately. Feel free to add on.

1. Skinny b*tches on TV who purport to eat mass quantities.

Example #1: Grace of Will and Grace. Despite her collar bone and ribs being fully exposed on her ridiculously thin body, Grace constantly went on and on about her ravenous appetite and love for fatty, delicious foods. Give me a break. I bet in real life Debra Messing doesn't eat more than a morsel of food, let alone the cupcakes, bacon, and various other treats she ranted on about on the show.

Example #2: My beloved Liz Lemon on 30 Rock. Liz (portrayed by Tina Fey, above) will make travel plans based on the promise of free pretzels on an airplane, rewards herself with baked goods for planning on going to they gym later, and was once caught singing "I love my block of cheese" around midnight by her boss. B please.

Example #3: Max on Living Single. Max (played by Erika Alexander) was always up in the fridge mooching off of Khadijah, Regine, and Synclaire. Yet she didn't have an ounce of fat on her. Although she did have an athletic figure and definitely was not as painfully thin as Debra, she still was portrayed as a human vacuum and it just didn't add up.

The above characters (not so much Max) do not exercise on the show and are presented to appear lazy, lethargic foodies. However, both are extremely petite and thin (Tina not as much as Debra, but no way she indulges in real life like Liz) and I bet both of their weights are barely out of the double digit range.

This offends me as a former fat kid and as a woman who works out 6 times a week and has convinced herself that grapes are "nature's candy" and reese's pieces are the devil.

2. Fake glasses.

It really burns me when I see people who don't need glasses wearing them to look hip or "nerdy." Stop it. I know it's "cool" now to be a nerd, and some girls think it's cute to admit their nerdy side, "I'm such a nerd - just watched Bill Nye the Science guy, followed by the Simpsons." As if saying "hey, I'm more than just a girl in a bikini on facebook, I'm complex!" No, you're not.

I'm extremely tired of celebrities (specifically music folk) trying to rock the nerdy look. I will only co-sign you wearing those frames if you: 1.) Did not have a date to prom; 2) Were in the Physics club, mathletes, etc.; and 3.) Did not like high school.

Only then will you get a pass. If you don't meet the above criteria, take off those specs and be grateful that you have good eyesight and don't have to wear glasses or contacts!

Thanks for letting me rant.

Have a great week!

The 'Burgh

2009-08-16T14:05:00.000-07:00

Hey kids!

I'm supposed to be getting some work done at my neighborhood Starbucks (sniff sniff, I kind of miss Seattle! ...but not too much.), but I'd rather let y'all know how I'm liking my new home turf.

In typical KB fashion, I've compiled a list below with my likes/dislikes thus far of Pittsburgh:

Yays

1. The People! Everyone has been friendly, folksy, neighborhoody, and helpful. Well, most everybody. I haven't had to lift one heavy bag, pay for one drink, sit alone at any restaurant/bar/cafe, etc., or wander aimlessly in a store clearly in need of help since I've arrived. This is in stark contrast to Seattle, where people would walk over your limp, dying body (with hand grasping for help) on the sidewalk, instead of dare see if they could be of assistance. God forbid they intrude on your personal space.

In addition to the friendliness, Pittsburgh natives are hard core proud of their town. Can you blame them? The city has been named "Most Livable City" 4 years in a row by the Economist and they are the home of world champion Football and Hockey teams. I'm already a die hard fan and I've only been to one Steelers game! That reminds me, I've gotta get my black and gold wardrobe game on.

2. My neighborhood. It's the most diverse joint ever: every race you can think of - with the slight majority being Jewish! And plenty of asian/vegetarian restaurants with tofu. I'm home! ;)

3. My gym. State of the art equipment, facilities...and the BEST thing about having the gym at the Jewish Community Center is everyone knows how to spell my last name!! Mazel Tov! And I can't stop giggling when the "chosen" members (they do allow gentiles in the joint fyi) whip their heads around and stare when I say my full name aloud.

4. Cost of living. Son, when the owner of my building told me the rent for my ginormous apartment I had to ask him to repeat it, twice. I was sure I heard him wrong or it was a biweekly payment.

Nays

1. The humidity. Chile, KB hasn't been in this kind of heat since Philly in the summer of 07. Yet I've still tried to rock the hair stick straight a couple times. Stuck to my face but I worked it out.

2. My gym. Yes the facilities are great and everything is brand new but the exercise classes are SNOOZE. I suppose I'm just used to exercise instructors that are fierce, fun, and have the best music. I've mentioned this before - my exercise instructor should have a BETTER body than me! I mean how do you expect me to follow you when your belly is flapping and you're sweating way more than me 15 minutes into the class? Defined muscle tone should be a job requirement in my opinion.

3. BNT. I thought NYC/NJ was the BNT capital of the U.S.? They don't got nathan on Pittsburgh honey. There are bridges and tunnels every step you take. I take a bridge and a tunnel to work everyday. It's fine because I go against traffic, but when I'm not it's a hot, red-light filled mess. I actually heard last night that Pittsburgh has the most bridges in any U.S. city. 2nd in the world to Venice? Or maybe that was just the tipsy frat guy tryna impress me with his knowledge of Pitt trivia.

4. I'm squad-less. Y'all know KB considers her friends as family, so it was quite daunting to move to a place where I'd be completely solo (sans for Kingston). But, in usual KB style I've garnered quite a few squad members already, and I have a feeling a solid 'Burgh squad is gonna be up and running by fall. I mean, I needs to start baking and hosting cocktail parties, stat, lest I get all in a tizzy and start reading for pleasure or doing something more productive with my free time.

Anyone else make a move recently? (You know who I'm talking to!) =)

Can't wait for y'all to visit!

KelleBelle

Road Trip!

2009-08-12T08:20:00.000-07:00

Picture it: KelleBelle and Kingston embark on a 2500+ mile road trip across the country. I hate road trips. But I can tolerate one-way trips if it's to relocate.

First of all, let's go over how the trip started. I left Seattle at 5:30am on Thursday, July 30th and of course planned on getting to bed by 10pm Wednesday night in order to be fully rested for the long drive. I was done packing, finished winding up my affairs, and said my goodbyes to everyone...except my BFF (in Seattle) Choklate*.

We still hadn't said our farewells, nor did we exchange parting gifts we had for one another. So she comes over around 9pm, swapped gifts (I LOVE having friends that wear my shoe size!! She gave me two super sweet pairs she never wore. And I gave her two fierce pairs of mine that she could do way more justice than I ever could), popped open a final bottle of wine and chat.

Then we decided to hit up our favorite lounge around the way, which has a fly wednesday night live jam session. Did I mention it was now 1am? So off we go. We had the nerve to saunter in the joint at 1:30am...when the place closes at 2. We commence drinking, dancing, chatting with our homies...and walk out of the joint at 3am. At this point sleep wasn't happening. So we go to this dope 24 hour restaurant, have big salads and lots of water, chat with a few music industry folks Chok knew that happened to be there, and set out again. We walked back to my place...packed up my car, and Kingston and I hit the road at 5:30am!

At approximately 7:15am, about 75 miles from Spokane, WA, I realize I forgot to pack a very important section of my bedroom: my goodie drawer!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I immediately called Chok, who was napping in my place, and told her to please clean it out, and feel free to keep any of the, ahem, stuff that was in there (everything was in wrappers and new - y'all know KB don't mess with toys and such). Thank goodness she was there - can you imagine the real estate agent and owner finding the contents of the drawer?! I'd die.

So Kingston and I drive through Washington, Idaho, and arrive in Billings, Montana around 8:30pm. Chile, Billings is hood. I took Kingston with me every time I needed to go down to the car to retrieve something. I swear the population was full of meth heads and crack feigns. Just weird looking folks strolling down the streets. Yikes.

Up early Friday morning, we head to Fargo, ND. I know what you're thinking: snooze city.

But no!! Why? Because one of my close friends from law school lives there! We had a friggin' ball honey. She of course was thrilled she actually had a visitor. I swore to her when she first moved there that I would never, ever visit her. But when my trip had me crossing through ND, of course I had to stop by. Friday night in Fargo was...an experience. We went to approximately19 bars, three restaurants, and I believe a piggly wiggly.

Here's a funny thing about Fargo: every place has about 14 different establishments within it. For instance, we went to this one complex that held 5 different clubs/bars, three restaurants (including one Hooters), a liquor store, some sort of dry cleaning/laundry place, a small casino/gambling area, and I swear I saw some sort of chapel in the back.

No bar is just a bar. Walk around the corner and make a left, you're in a free clinic. Hang a right? You're in the middle of a gas station.

We had such a ball (and I really didn't feel like driving all day again) that I stayed in Fargo all day Saturday and we worked out, reminisced about law school at Ruby Tuesdays for about 4 hours, then painted our nails and watched Real Housewives of Atlanta at her fabulous apartment. Pretty much the best visit ever.

Kingston and I hit the road at 9am Sunday morning and made our way to Chicago. We slid in around 8pm and had the best time with big bro and his crew. After a quick change, we bar hopped in his 'hood. One bar was playing my favorite movie in the world, "The Toy", so I was there for about an hour and a half watching and drinking. Then we hit this other bar that gave free personal pizzas with every drink! Awesome.

We got back to my bro's place around 1am and hit the sack. Kingston and I packed up our stuff once more, and hit the road at 8am. I realized what the key is to a successful visit with the bro-ham: Make it 12 hours! There's no time to fight or bicker at all. Short and sweet. :)

Finally, Kingston and I make our way Monday morning to our final destination: Pittsburgh!

We rolled into the 'Burgh around 5pm and I drove straight to the mall to go to the AT&T store and get my new iPhone. My og phone died somewhere between Wisconsin and Illinois. :(

I wanted to upgrade anyway, so it was all good. Then we checked into our hotel and slept for about 12 hours!

Everything has gone so well since I arrived here I can't help but feel like George Costanza. Something bad must be on the horizon. Everything's going so smoothly!! The 5 days at the hotel went swell, I found an amazing apartment in the greatest neighborhood ever, got the hookup on all of my furniture, have met the nicest, welcoming people, and my job is friggin' awesome.

I'm actually going to go to church on Sunday to give thanks. Shoot, I may hit up the synagogue on Saturday too, just to cover my bases. ;)

Love love love all y'all! Regularly scheduled blogging will commence shortly.

Xoxo,

*check out her new album, "To Whom It May Concern" - It's amazing!!

Random Thoughts

2009-07-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

1. Lessons learned from the Steve McNair Tragedy.

Be careful who your side piece is. It's looking like the murder of the beloved football player was at the hands of his 20-year-old jump off. McNair was married with 4 kids but seemingly had a separate life with his chick, whom he met while she was a waitress at a Dave and Busters that he frequented with his family. I highly doubt this tragedy will cause other professional athletes (and regular joes) to second guess a booty offering from a young crazy broad, but I hope so.

2. The Michael Jackson coverage.

I'm sorry but has everyone (I'm talking to you CNN!) lost their damn minds? MJ was an incredible figure in our society and affected many people by his music and generous contributions to charities...but yo, the coverage of his death and memorial service is off the wall (yup, pun intended!). You would think this dude cured cancer, freed slaves, something! I was not around when JFK was shot, but I can only see this kind of media coverage when a figure such as John John dies in such a tragic and public fashion. Not the sudden death of a pop star (yes he was King of pop but you know that doesn't make him technically royalty fyi) who was visibly unhealthy and had a lengthy history of medical problems...I'm just saying, let the man rest, and let's focus on other issues in addition to the tragic loss of MJ. Has anyone heard an update on the two reporters imprisoned in North Korea lately? Any news on Afghanistan? Hello? Uncle Leo?

3. Oprah's fat. Again.

I called my mom yesterday to tell her to watch the Oprah show. It was about her weight challenges. I watched the first 5 minutes and really liked what I was hearing. Oprah was being "real" and I appreciated it. She said that you'd think with all the money, fame, success, she'd be happy...but if you still cannot control your weight and can't fit into your clothes, you can never be fully at peace or happy. I completely understand.

I talked to mom dukes today and we spoke about the show. Moms had me dying! She said she liked the show but she disagreed with one thing O said. It was about the pressure that she feels each month when she has to go the "O" Magazine cover shoot and try on clothes. My mom said, "well, if she didn't put herself on the cover each month, that would relieve a lot of pressure." True dat! Moms was like, "it was fine the first few months the magazine came out, but after that it got annoying. I mean, who else only has a picture of themselves on their magazine each month?" I gotta agree. Sure she's shared the cover with her dogs and Michelle O once. But she really doesn't need to be on the cover each month. I wonder if she'll be sandwiched in betwixt Venus and Serena for next month's cover in light of their Wimbledon battle?

Alright y'all...until the next time.

Smooches!

The Illest Nana of them All

2009-07-03T12:00:00.000-07:00

Some time must be spent on the absolute tomfoolery and fuckery of South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford.

Hey, I'm a romantic and am all about finding one's soul mate. But get your shit in order first. Don't let the goodies make you lose your mind now. Apparently Governor Sanford did not get the memo.

A few thoughts:

Telling a few folks that you "went for a walk" and then having some fool make up some "happened upon the Appalachian trail" nonsense is not going to cover a ghost's tracks.

Son, can I get an out-of-office reply? Something!

And damn, I don't celebrate Father's day, but if I was a pop of four children...I'd at least give them a call or let them know my number at the jump-off's crib in Argentina. That's ice cold.

Why do you continue to discuss your illicit affair?? Sanford got the ultimate chance to just quickly push his drama under the rug and quietly resign. But what does he do? This mutha waits until a few days have passed since MJ's death and holds yet another press conference, to announce more affairs!

Either his side piece has the illest of them all, or dude really didn't want to be Governor anymore. Hey, do you, but try to be a lil' more on it next time!

Smooches,

KelleBelle

The King is Dead

2009-07-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

For complete, insightful, witty coverage on Michael Jackson's untimely passing, please visit http://www.whatwouldthembido.com/

I'm now going to focus on some of the taboo subjects surrounding his death, that no one (at least in the media) wants to discuss.

1. Those kids.

Look, I'm a product of the heavenly black and white combination. Those kids are not. They could possibly pass for his kids if he truly looked like he does now, genetically. I know they are doing great shizz with science these days, but I do not think we are at the point where you can genetically mutate a fetus to only take on the (white) mother's genes. There is no way in hells bells those kids have a black father, complete with nappy hair and a wide nose. No way!

2. Diana Ross as fill-in guardian.

I love me some Diana, but is she really the best substitute to take care of his kids in the event that his elder mother cannot fill the role? I believe she has been chillin' with her fabo european husband in paris or rome or somewhere kick-ass, and I have a feeling she is through raising chil'ren. Didn't Evan Ross like flee the coup at age 10? Or mayhaps I made that up.

3. Cause of death.

Similar to Heath Ledger's untimely death, no one wants to talk about what really went down. I'm not saying we should bring up the true cause, especially if it will only serve to shed negative light on his otherwise amazing impact and legacy he will leave, but it could possibly be a very valuable lesson for the masses. As in, do not mix sleeping pills with certain other drugs, etc.

4. Pandora's "Michael Jackson" station

This isn't a taboo subject, but I must make a comment regarding my disappointment with Pandora. Immediately after MJ's death, I created a Michael Jackson station. As you know, to create a station on Pandora you enter the name of an artist, song, or album and Pandora creates a "station" based on the selection and plays music that is similar/related to what you typed in. For example, say you have, oh I don't know, an "NWA" station. Expect to hear some Dre, Cube, etc., in addition to songs from those ninjas with attitude. So, I create the MJ station. The first few songs were by Michael, Earth Wind & Fire, and Stevie Wonder. No surprise there. But Justin Timberlake? Pardon?? They played JT 3 times over a 9 song span! If you're going to throw in biters, might as well add every other pop jerk that stole MJ's moves and sound. Tsk tsk Pandora. You'll be on the business end of a strongly worded email from yours truly very shortly.

5. The BET awards.

Really?

Okay my Pretty Young Thangs...I'm off (the wall)!

Smooches,

Size Queen

2009-06-14T12:41:00.000-07:00

No, no, not that size. And yes, KB (and I believe Jake as well) is definitely a size queen in that regard.

But I'm referring to the super-size nature of American culture. I was having a great girl-chat session with my buddy Andrew (see his amazingly personal and interesting blog/diary at andrewwnichols.blogspot.com) last week and he asked me what I thought caused the mortgage/financial crisis. I said simply, greed. Not just by the bankers, investors, and all of dem. I'm referring to American's "need" for the grandiose: the Hummer, the huge house that you don't need, the fancy car you can't afford, the purses, the "poppin' bottles", all of that excess.

Andrew, a new homeowner, mentioned that he was approved for a loan in the range of $300,000 and was encouraged by his real estate agent to look for a bigger piece of property than what he eventually settled on. He declined, and instead bought a small place that fit his lifestyle perfectly - and was "only" $135,000 - less than half of what he could have bought. I immediately chided the real estate agent for the prodding of Andrew - of course she/he would encourage him to buy a bigger house. The higher the purchase price, the higher their commission.

I think more people should be like Andrew and not take out the maximum line of credit - for a credit card, mortgage, student loan, etc. Live within your means - actually, live below your means. I have to say this was a hard lesson for me to learn - after all, I was raised in LA where people would drive their fancy Mercedes Benz's and Lexi all over town...and park it in the garage (or on the street) of a down trodden one-bedroom apartment in the hood. It was all about image and keeping up with those fuckers the Jones'. My mama waited until she was retired and stacked her chips before she finally got her Benz. Growing up we never had a fancy car or wore designer labels (Slauson swapmeet holler!) but we lived in a nice house in a safe neighborhood.

I had a friend at USC who spent $4000 on a Dior purse and lived in her grandma's converted garage in Compton. Huh? Meanwhile, ya girl KB rocked her Nine West clutch and Steve Maddens...and lived in a spacious apartment near campus. Years later in Philly, I tried to dissuade a friend from buying a 4-story house. Why did a single woman who travelled frequently need such a grand home? I suppose she wanted it because she could have it. So she did. I believe it has been on the market now for over a year...

Even folks are super-sizing their families! Who on earth needs (or can support) 18 kids? Or 8? Someone please stop the madness.

I'm not saying I'm the black Suzie Orman, but I think my priorities in terms of spending are somewhat intact.

Off to H&M for some discount shopping and then I'm catching a matinee (bringing my own snacks of course - healthier and incredibly cheaper than the $13 medium sized popcorn).

Xoxo,

Lessons Learned from Miche--- wait, Barack!

2009-06-12T14:35:00.000-07:00

I was trying my absolute best to not write about an "article" that has been flying around the black-post-secondary-education world, but alas, I must give in and address some of the melee the piece has produced.

When one of my main b's forwarded the piece I couldn't help but take a heavy sigh and roll my eyes. The piece is about lessons single black women can learn from Michelle Obama. I know, snooze! In my opinion the piece didn't address any new ideas or challenges single black women face in the cold hard world of dating, but I appreciated the author's point of view and I'm definitely glad she wrote it, as it sparked lots of discussion. But I couldn't help but wonder: are these lessons we should learn from Michelle? Or lessons men need to learn from Barack? I'm thinking the latter.

The piece, authored by a lovely young lady who I believe was a year or two behind me in law school, basically covered the way black women need to stop being so picky, and give the "cornball" type of guy a chance. Like Michelle did with Barack (he wasn't as fly as he is now when they first met). Um, okay, but as I've mentioned to my girls in the past, I DO give the nerds a chance, as do a lot of my friends. My lesson learned? Fat geeks can be jerks just as quickly as the hottie with a six pack and swagger can be.

The author mentioned that many of her friends will cut a guy off after the first date for trivial things like not dressing stylish enough (or too stylish), having small hands, "laughing too much", all sorts of fuckery. I don't know many women who would cut off a seemingly solid dude for such small imperfections. But I will drop you like a hot comb on the high setting if you are rude, a violent drunk, don't take care of yourself (if he's not taking care of himself (mentally and physically), how can I expect him to care of me?), or have dead teeth with no intention of mitigating the losses, I'm done. Call me picky.

The article sparked rounds and rounds of emails going back and forth regarding the travails of dating. But again, nothing really new was introduced in the lengthy email threads.

We touched on the familiar subjects of persistence vs. equal attraction (for the record, KB is not one to "grow" to like someone or find them attractive - I know within the first 10 seconds of meeting a gent if I want to see them in their birthday suit); whether we are holding out for our "equals" on paper (no - I don't care if you don't have a PHD from Stanford, but you better GI Joe it and be the best you can be at whatever you are doing - music, art, pressure cleaning, trash man, etc.); and what I consider the ultimate sign if a gent is in the Mr. KelleBelle running: genuine interest.

The last topic really struck a nerve because I have found myself completely bamboozled by dudes who I would consider dating seriously, but for whatever reason, they are not conveying their desire to do the same, but at the same time send mixed messages that they do want to date me exclusively. Perhaps it's just my location - I have mentioned time and time again the passive culture of the pacific northwest - but I seem to keep running into this phenomenon. I mean, even if I am just into a guy for casual dating, what makes or break moving him into the "serious consideration" category or put into the "friend" and/or "jump-off" box is his level of genuine interest (and mine, of course).

And that's what I think fellas need to learn from Barack. He was persistent in his courting of 'Chelle and was proactive in his quest to land his woman. If a gent isn't calling me, arranging dates (I will too, but it should be equal) - and NOT the day of said date - then clearly he isn't that into me. Maybe the timing isn't right, maybe he does really like me but he just sucks at conveying his interest, not sure. But take a page out of B's courting book and step ya game up.

And I am SO incredibly tired of dudes saying they are just so busy and tired and blah blah. B please. I've dated an ER doctor, a pro athlete, musician, politician, lawyer, hustler, sneaker designer, military man, professor (not while a student! get ya mind out the gutter), etc. If you really want to see me, you'll make time. And that's the end of it. If you call me only at your latest convenience, then that shows me your level of interest and I will proceed accordingly.

Thanks for letting me vent, y'all. Have a great weekend!

KelleBelle

Are you a FWD whore?

2009-06-10T16:47:00.000-07:00

Do you have a friend/relative/associate that sends you countless FWD: FW: FW: messages that flood your inbox on the daily? Lord knows I do. The two main culprits are usually my mother and my god mother. I mean really, how many times do I need to see the lil boy pat Obama on the head in the Oval office? I get it. It's cute. Historic. Stop forwarding it please! Thanks.

Anywhether, a friend of mine sent our squad a message yesterday bringing our attneiton to her own FWD nightmare:

"Ok. I'm NOT fowarding this to you as a forward. I'm sending this because my dear friend, Daniella, sends me fwds REPEATEDLY. I get an avg of 5 a day from her...and that's an average. it's not the mere act of fwding that bothers me its that she sends them indiscriminately. no thought is put into whether i would be interested in seeing this or whether its likely that i saw it already. i will send fwds every now and then but i try to keep in mind that most people prolly don't want to be baraged by them.

I had another friend who would do this and i just ended up sending her emails automatically to my spam folder. I don't want to say anything to her because it may seem a bit stuck up, esp. b/c this is one of my pre-law school friends but DAMN! i hate getting these. and every now and then she'll send me an email directed to me and sometimes I don't see them because they are in my spam folder.

anyway, are you ladies similarly perturbed by these or should i just get over it?"

KB's note: for the record, this forward in particular was WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE. Nudity and a bit of racism all in one!

I responded to my friend's request for advice as follows:

Dude. This one of my biggest pet peeves. My god mother used to send me fwds non-stop, once 10 fwds in a two day period. I asked my mom how to politely ask my god mom to stop the forward madness. I, like you, didn't want to put her off, or send her to spam hell, because she does send actual emails with original content on occassion. Mom duke's solution? Lie!

I told my god mother my inbox was simply too full and I was getting warnings that my storage was about to exceed the limit. So please, no more forwards because they often contain large files attached/included with them.

Haven't received a forwarded "use this coupon today to get a free whopper at wendys!" or bible-esque cartoons (that are usually quite offensive/blasphemous in my heathen opinion) since!

Ps: this fwd is wildly inappropriate!!! And not that clever. Odd what folks forward. You think your girl even scans the email before forwarding?
_____________

My friends agreed that the little white lie will avoid the need for an awkward confrontation about the fwd insanity.

How would you deter a FWD whore? Are you a FWD whore yourself? Should I stop saying whore so much?

Smooches!

Letters to a Young Sister

2009-06-02T15:15:00.000-07:00

Hey kids! It's about that time when folks are graduating from high school, college, grad school, beauty school, ITT Tech (if you're smart - real talk these days...), etc. One of my dear friends is putting together a compilation of lessons learned since she left home for college, to give to her baby sister who graduated from high school last week and is off to college in the fall.

My friend asked for help with her list, and this is what I came up with:

1. Do not spend more than you make!

2. Don't use credit cards (except in serious emergencies).

3. Think of your next 5 steps and plan/prep accordingly (internship, summer job, grad school, career, etc).

4. Have fun but not too much. No party is worth jeopardizing your school work, reputation (showing up to your part-time law office job hungover is not cool), or your health.

5. Act like a lady and think like a man!

I think my ultimate word of advice is to reach out for help at the first sign of trouble - in any area, be it school, love, life, etc. Get your network of support together (family, friends, profs, mentors) sooner rather than later and USE them as a resource for advice, guidance, or just an ear.

What do you know now that you wish you knew when you left the nest? Do tell.

Smooches!

KelleBelle

Recession Friendly Things To Do This Summer

2009-05-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

I was watching CNN this weekend and they listed the top selling items during a recession. I have kept the list exactly as they showed it on the screen:

Chocolate, Comfort Foods

Gold Coins, Gardening Seeds
Running Shoes, Guns

Based on the above list, if you ever had an idea to open a chocolate factory, KFC chain, running gear or gun store, this summer may be the time to make good on that daydream.

And I know you've been staring at those gold coins your grandpapi gave you years ago, wondering if they'd ever do anything besides collect dust. Take a trip on down to your local "we buy gold" store or pawn shop and cash em in for some gardening seed money. Or combine some of the items and you'll definitely have a fun and profitable summer: chocolate pistol anyone? Yum!

Also, if you ever thought about going natural and weening yourself off of your stylist's teet, now is definitely the time. Save the $75 re-touch/press&curl bi-weekly salon appointment and let the new growth flow! Summer is the time to be free, and if you don't like the rate of growth by September, well, the economy should (hopefully) be on the upswing and you'll be in a better financial position to shell out the dough for your salon visits.

Smooches!

The Newest Desperate Housewife

2009-05-06T08:32:00.000-07:00

What would you do if you suddenly found yourself without a job?

Unfortunately, I know more than a handful of people that have had to face this dilemma recently.

I also know a few employed people that have told me they "want" to be laid off. I tell them to be careful what you wish for...but I understand where they are coming from...kind of.

If I didn't have so much in school loans to pay each month I suppose I'd fantasize about being carefree and jobless as well. Or not...actually when I was in between jobs last year and was finished studying and taking the CA bar exam, I felt somewhat lost and unhappy. Besides looking for jobs and interviewing, I really didn't do as many things that I always thought I'd do if I wasn't working:

I didn't read the umpteen books I had been planning on reading since the summer after college graduation.

I didn't go to all of the museums and galleries I always said I would like to go to.

I did volunteer quite a bit, but not as much as I intended.

I went to the gym a lot, but I didn't get a six pack that I told myself I'd shoot for if I had the time to spend to get it.

I got a tan - but that was just because of the circumstances of my unemployment: I was living at home...four blocks from the beach in LA. Had I been in the same situation in Philly, I highly doubt I would have met that goal.

I didn't hit happy hour on the regular...because everyone else was working! Sipping $4 margaritas solo at El Torito at 3pm on a Tuesday is not the business.

Another goal I had while unemployed was to sleep - a lot. Why did I not reach this goal you ask? Two words: Kingston and Chester. Those little bastards had me up at 6am everyday ready to be taken on their walks.

My biggest goal was to do some serious internal self-reflection on how I can be a better KB. This is a work in progress but I made a lot of headway in my down time.

What would you do if you suddenly didn't have to schlep to your 9-5 everyday?

Mo Money, Mo Problems

2009-05-04T11:45:00.000-07:00

Less money, many more problems.

Picture it: Ms. KelleBelle is at dinner with a certain gent (who was close to being fired anyway, and this was a last ditch effort for him to hold onto KB's interest), and the check comes. Grand total? $19. The gent brings out a $20 bill and then says, "I don't have enough for tip."

KB says, "I don't have any singles, sorry. Why don't you put the tab on your card and write in a tip?"

Dude says, "I don't have enough, I'm at my budget."

Pardon???

Yes chile, this trifling event happened. For realsies.

Kids, y'all know I like the finer things in life (premium cable channels, manicured nails, medium-shelf alcohol, etc.) but I am certainly no money hungry gold digger. I don't expect diamonds, but is it too much to expect a gentleman to pick up a $20 tab? Paying for my $7 salad and $3 beverage doesn't seem like too much to ask.

The story ends by KB paying the tab, storming out of the restaurant like Whitley Gilbert leaving Dwayne Wayne after their 19th fight, and telling him to cease and desist from any further communication. It is SO over. (ps: this isn't the first time KB has had to pay due to dude being "at his budget.")

Can you imagine? My word. It's not even that I mind dating someone who is struggling financially...but yo son - let me know BEFORE the check comes that you are broke. I've absolutely struggled financially before so I get it - completely - but the way you act when broke is very telling of your character, in my humble opinion.

This doesn't just apply to gentlemen callers, but financially struggling friends should also be mindful of the stress and drama they create when they do not account for their own expenses and rely on others to make their ends meet.

Assuming I am picking up the tab is not cool. I am not your caretaker, your man (or woman), or some filthy rich socialite with money to burn. If I pick up a tab it's because I want to, not because I feel obligated to or owe you anything. But the favor should be mutual.

When it isn't, it creates awkward situations and tension builds that could have been avoided if you were an adult and accounted for your own brokeness. And please don't complain about your finances and in the same breath brag about a new clothing purchase or blame your situation on your child. I have plenty of bills as well - I bet my student loan payment is akin to a child support payment! Real talk.

If I'm a bit light on dough that week, I won't go out to the bar and then rely on a chum to pay. I don't expect gents to pay all the time, and I don't mind going dutch on occasion, but I refuse to be played like a fool and suffer for having a steady stream of income and the ability to not spend more than I earn. Can I get a witness?!

Smooches!

Random Thoughts

2009-04-28T11:40:00.001-07:00

1. My favorite Golden Girl, Bea Arthur, passed away this weekend. I always felt the closest bond with Dorothy. Perhaps in part because we are both 5'9" with somewhat deep voices (mine is nowhere near Bea's, but it's a far cry from Michell'e). We are now left with only 2 living golden girls, the inspiration for countless girlfriend themed television series (Sex and the City, Girlfriends, etc.).

2. Arlen Spector can get it, just on GP. Of course the groundbreaking Senator that switches parties and gives the Dems a filibuster proof majority hails from the great state of Pennsylvania (KB's original state of bar admission, thank you.) When will others realize the Republican party is going the way of the Pontiac? Speaking of GM, is it just me or did everyone else already assume they stopped making that model years ago? I haven't seen a new Grand-Am on the road in ages.

3. Who determines what is a pandemic? I understand there is a threat of widespread Swine Flu infection, but 20 people getting the virus (ps: it sounds like the most it causes is flu-like symptoms, not death or worse: weight gain and/or hair loss.) in all of the USofA does not seem to be as big of a threat as say, the bubonic plague. Also, if you don't carry Purell in your purse and use it on the regular, that's your bad (IMO).

4. Finally, this Thursday, April 30th is Dining Out for Life®. DOFL is an annual fundraising event involving the generous participation of volunteers, corporate sponsors and restaurants. Naturally the fabulous event was created by a volunteer in Philadelphia at ActionAIDS (an organization I volunteered at while living in Philly). Everything fabulous and groundbreaking usually comes out of Philly or Pennsylvania (see my Arlen Spector blurb above.)

More than 3,500 restaurants donate a portion of their proceeds from this one special night of dining to the licensed agency in their city. Nearly $4 million dollars a year is raised to support the missions of agencies throughout North America. With the exception of the annual licensing fee of $600, all money raised in these cities stays there.

I have served as Ambassador (hostess) for DOFL in Philadelphia and will be doing so here in Seattle as well. I encourage you all to participate in this worthwhile event.

Check http://www.diningoutforlife.com/ to see which restaurants in your city are participating.

Smooches!

KB

Who cares about your career? Who are you seeing?!!

2009-04-22T10:47:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine posted an interesting message on her Gchat status window:

"Ladies, have you ever told a friend some exciting news in your career or personal (spiritual, health) development and get a lukewarm "yeah, thats cool" but then if you so much as whisper the possibility of a new guy to said friend, they go orgasmic and start conjuring the wedding? Is this just my friend, me, a really disturbing problem, or the reality of being a woman?"

I responded to her message that I have a few friends that react similarly to man news versus non-man news. Check out our chat below and post a comment on your reaction to her message. Please and thank you. :)

me: boo on your friend. that's lame. i have a friend or three like that. it'll be like this:

Me: "I passed the bar"

Them: "Yay. Congrats."

Me: "I started seeing someone."

Them: "OMG!!! YAYYYYYY Does he have any friends?"

me: boo

Dorothy: i know, i feel like my law school friends particularly, are obessed with finding a man/relationships

i mean hey, i like to talk about dudes too, but damn, just a little balance please

cause when you are constantly talking like that i just feels like it creates so much desperation and negativity

me: exactly i'm 100% with ya

Dorothy: lots of interesting thoughts coming out of my status lol

Dorothy: why do you think some girls react in that way?

me: father issues

Dorothy: im now going to collect all the comments lol

me: want me to post a blog about it?

Dorothy: oh you totally should

My friend then sent me a collection of comments she received from friends in response to her message. Here are a few highlights:

Dorothy: yeah, its like come on gals, dont we have more going on in our lives??!!!

friend1: truth is many of them do, but it's a slow process to take your little girl dreams of a white dress and knight in shining armor and accept the fact that other things - like great family and platonic relationships, relationship with self, career, hobbies - can be fulfilling also; some just haven'tgotten there yet
________________________________________
Dorothy: but why isnt my career, or my health, or my relationship with God intimate?

friend 2: b/c it's not about sex or the possibility of sex

Dorothy: well that's unfortunate, women have much more to offer than sex

friend 2: sad, but true. i dont think this is a women-specific thing. i think we all have more to offer than sex, but sex remains an interesting subject

_________________________________________

Dorothy: i mean that some women are ok with being single - that doesnt mean they dont want to get married or wont be happy to meet a nice man - but that they are relatively content and may be getting happiness from other things. so when you then tell your friends omg x,y,z, that is not relationship related has happened to me or for me or some goal you have achieved and they react to that like oh yeah whatever, i think its just dissappointing. like your friends should be happy for you whatever it is your happy about.

why do some women only respond positively when it involves a man?

Friend3: yeah i mean theres no nice way to put it. thats exactly what happens. i was talking to my line sister. no one in our line is married or engaged and the line b4 us like over 1/2 of them r either already married or engaged, and i was like they are tighter than us and my friend was like girl people r on our line who r doctors lawyers etc and i was like i dont care we r single. no one wants us:(

Dorothy: booooo. that's horrible. no seriously.
_____________________________________________

Dorothy: yeah, i guess women are interested in different things

Friend4: yeah... the only problem with the wedding day dream is a wedding only lasts for a few hours. and then what?

Who Should Pay More?

2009-04-17T17:05:00.001-07:00

Should overweight people pay more for airfare? I think the answer is obviously yes. Obesity creates externalities- they make life uncomfortable for others. Specifically, in tight places like on airplanes. I think that we are all given a certain amount of space on this planet and some people are taking up more space than has been allotted to them. Consequently, they must pay more.

I, like the woman in the video, struggle to find the reason why people who spillover into others' seats should not have to pay extra. Her argument appears to be that it's discrimination. I increasingly find this argument troubling. Fat people have been pushing this discrimination argument as if they are victims of a cruel society. However, their argument must fail because of the idea of choice. Gays are denied rights mainly because society, and more specifically the law, views homosexuality as a choice and thus not worthy of much sympathy.

If this is true...why then should anyone feel bad for someone who is overweight? Granted, many argue that it's not their choice and is instead genetic and/or medical. Indeed, just yesterday a co-worker advanced this argument. However, I still observed a difference in our eating habits. She ate much more than me. This happens consistently, which is why I find the medical problem argument unavailing. It's a choice. You choose to eat more, you choose to eat unhealthy food, you choose not to go to work out and you choose not to seek a medical solution to your medical problem. You can choose to jeopardize your health if you want to, but why do I have to suffer? Why do I have to be uncomfortable? Why do I have to pay higher insurance premiums? Why do I have to make all of the sacrifices?

I am petrified of becoming overweight and will go through great lengths to prevent such from happening, including paying a ton for a gym membership AND personal trainer and paying more for healthy food. It's also a time dedication. It's not easy. Fat people feel bad when people treat them poorly because of their weight and I sympathize. I really do. However, who sympathizes for me when I wake up at 6am to go to the gym? Where's my sympathy when I pass on that brownie? Who invites me to the Oprah show when I feel weak from hunger pains? No one!!! It's the nasty secret life of thin people. While I am sitting at home alone starving; some people are sitting at home stuffing themselves. I am not mad at you...do your thing. But, own it.

Which to me begs the question: should thin people have to pay extra?

Who Wants to Fuck A Pirate?

2009-04-17T16:27:00.000-07:00

The Day I Decided I Want to Fuck A Pirate

The other day I woke up to news that Somali Pirates had taken over a ship, got shot up by Navy Seals and then vowed revenge against the USofA. My initial thought was OMG..I just woke up in 1666! It's several days later and they are still talking about these damn Pirates. Today, I got a hard on thinking about these Somali Pirates despite having never ever seen a picture of what they look like. Indeed I hadn't seen one until I googled the above picture. I'd smash.

However, truth be told? They don't have to be hot to get sommadis! Yesss honey! These bitches took over a whole damn ship and stared down the fucking US army and then said fuck you to Barack Obama and the white guilt he rode in on. That has to make you at least a lil bit horny. It's more than ambition, it's motherfucking hot. What it must be like to be the love of a Somali Pirate! I could cook and clean and guard the gold until my man gets back from the high seas with more money for me. Although, I don't know what they do with all that there money. There's no Prada in Somalia and UPS ain't gone deliver you no Louis Vuitton. And, it's not like you need money to buy a house because if you can steal a ship, you can steal a house. I don't know what I would do with all that money. I'd prolly run off to Europe with that shit and live the life of a Queen. Actually, I'd prolly run off to Chelsea and live the life of a Queen. I mean a milli in the US must be infinity in Somalia...no? (Does Somalia even have currency?) Further, would it even matter that you were walking around with the flyest shit if nobody knew what fly shit was?

I digress. The point is I wanna fuck a Somali Pirate.

The end.

P.S. Anyone wanna take a cruise off the coast of Somalia with me!!?? Fuck the search for the gay rapper; find me the gay pirate!!!

P.P.S Somali Pirates if you are reading this call me! 555...

KelleBelle Commentary:

Ladies and gentlemen...the return of Jake!

Boy when you make an entrance, you really make an entrance!

Pirates kind of have a certain swag (pun completely intended!) about them, but I'mma give it to the Navy Seals for giving me a lady hard on. Can you imagine? Being held captive by some filthy pirates (I imagine they smell like ass and fish whereas the Navy seals smell like Cool Water and freedom) and then the seals swoop in and save the day. Y-U-M

p.s. LMAO @ "if you can steal a ship, you can steal a house." LOL. Thank jehbus you are back!

RIP: KelleBelle Dies of Embarrassment

2009-04-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, not so much. But I did feel like dying after I committed a fashion (actually, make-up) faux-pas recently.

Picture it: a dear friend from Philly was in town last week for work. After a lovely dinner, we hugged and kissed each other's cheeks. I then went about my way to enjoy the fruits of his labor, when I received a series of alarming texts from said friend:

"U got me GOOD"

"Talking to techs and crew"

"Talking to opening act"

"Friggin talking to guards"

"Talking to band"

"20 mins"

"No one tells me I got white crackhead lips"

"Pass the mirror...(sees white chalked lips)"

"wtf?!!! KELLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"I confronted all 20 people like 'I am offended you let me talk and walk about with crackhead lips and didn't say SH*T!'"

"We are all laughing SO HARD"

Kids, upon seeing this series of texts I almost fell to the ground in complete horror and embarrassment. Of course my girlfriends were dying laughing when I told them what happened. And then they recommended I make a stop at Nordstroms - STAT - and get "makeup sealer" at the MAC counter, which should prevent any future Tyrone Biggums/crackhead lip situations from occurring in the future.

I'm just happy my friend happened to pass by a mirror before he went to work. Did I mention his work involves performing in front of thousands of people? I could see the Perez Hilton headline already: "Guess who forgot to wipe the crack residue from their lips before hitting the stage? Find out who after the jump!"

The good thing is my current beau has the same skin tone as me, so I can rub my foundation all over him and no one can tell! ;)

Smooches,

Which trifling news-maker do you identify with?

2009-04-08T15:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever related to a notorious "real-person" newsmaker? I rarely have, but recently I couldn't help but identify with a certain woman that mistook her stomach for a baby making factory. Or a beagle's womb.

It happened when I took my dog to the vet to examine an injury he had on his ear. After the diagnosis the vet told me how much the surgery would cost - in the neighborhood of $1000. My heart sank and I began pondering what to do: postpone my plan to buy a new car even though I know my current vehicle could die any moment? Sell an ovary? Get back in the hustle game? Jokes. But I felt awful that I was not completely prepared to handle the surprise incredible cost of what I was certain would be a quick, cheap fix to make my baby okay.

I felt like a failure of a mother who couldn't take care of her dependant. And I immediately identified with that crazy broad, the Octomom! I thought, "Wow, this must be how that crazy b who is no position to take care of her children feels!" I felt bad for her, for a moment.

What other non-celebrity newsmaker can one identify with?

Anyone have a hair piece save their life a la that woman who's weave stopped a bullet aimed at her?

I'm sure someone out there defrauded their homies and lent money they lent them to someone else and kept the rest, a la Mr. Madoff.

Do tell.

Smooches!

KelleBelle

Return of the Swoon

2009-04-08T10:16:00.000-07:00

Hey kids! Long time. I apologize for the delay in posting. I have been swamped with work...but more importantly I have been living blissfully in Swoon-ville. Population: Me!

Yes, chil'ren, KB has taken to a certain someone. I am not going to give too many details, but let me put it this way: yesterday I realized that I hadn't watched a stitch of TV for 4 days straight. Why? Because I was either with the swooner or thinking about the swooner, which requires my complete focus.

The only caveat to this good swoon news is the swooner's occupation. There are 4 lines of work that due to the amount of travel, has the potential to create havoc on relationships:

1. Professional Athlete

2. Musician

3. Military

4. Government official (I guess - I haven't dated this category)

Hopefully the power of the swoon will alleviate any challenges the travelling will bring.

Thank the lordy for email...and webcams!

Xoxo,

Note: The above picture is an inside joke kind of thing...that only the swooner and swoonee are privy too. *smile

Dora Fierce?

2009-03-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

Have y'all peeped the new Dora? I asked my two close friends with daughters that are Dora fans what they thought of the new look. I am disappointed with it to be honest. I mean, our children are already overwhelmed with the western concept/ideal of what is "pretty" - long straight hair, fair skin, thin, trendy clothes...blend in, look cute, and don't be unique or original. Sigh.

My friend Elaine showed the image of the new Dora to her daughter and this is what 4 year old LaLa had to say:

"She's pretty. The old Dora doesn't have earrings. This Dora [the new one] is the most pretty."

Double Sigh.

Elaine then asked me if I peeped the new Disney princess - who is Black. I'm impressed! Honestly, I'm just pleased her hair looks somewhat realistic and they didn't give her some Asian silky straight human hair for weaving in color #1B.

This picture actually doesn't do her hair justice - in this picture her hair is more curly than in the film. In the trailer you can see it is more straight, but at least they gave her some curls/tendrils to make her look more authentic.

See: http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/princessandthefrog/

Also, peep her shape in the trailer - is it just me or does she look more "athletic" than other Disney princesses? Her back looks a bit muscular and it looks great! Or maybe I'm just projecting. :)

Smooches!

The Nerve!

2009-03-24T13:45:00.000-07:00

This is an emergency post. I was not planning on writing about this series of events but I just had to.

Picture it: I played wingwoman on Saturday night for a couple of girlfriends. To make a long story short, there were 3 brothers: 1 lives in Seattle, and two live in South Carolina where they are originally from. The two brothers were in town visting and they all hung out with my girlfriends. I was the 3rd and my match was the brother that lived here. After the 5 of them had hung out a few times without me last week (due to work/other obligations I couldn't join), I finally joined the party Saturday night, reluctantly.

We all met up at a WACK club (par for the course in Seattle) and quickly decided to move it to my crib. We ended up having a great time chatting, laughing, drinking, hanging with the chief, etc. They left around 3am - mind you my normal bed time (insomnia notwithstanding) is around 9pm. I could barely keep my eyes open when they left.

As they were leaving I told my match that we should hang out in the future, and he agreed. (side note: he was cute enough and mildly amusing, but not that amazing.) About 5 minutes after they left I noticed the guys left their chief. I sent my girlfriend a text telling her to tell the guys the scoop and I received a phone call from my match not 2 minutes later. I asked him when he wanted to pick it up (another day), or I could drop it off the next day, as I was half-asleep and already in my pjs.

He then proceeded to drunkenly attempt to negotiate his way back up to my apartment. He wanted to keep the party going, just him and I.

I was not down for the following reasons: 1. I was exhausted. 2. I don't know him like that. 3. I'm not a horny 22 year old that can't resist an invite for a drunken makeout session. No thank you.

We hung up, I went to bed, and that's it. Then my friend asked me today if I heard from said dude. I said I didn't but I'd send him a text to see what's up. Here's the series of texts:

Me: Hey there...Your bros make it home okay?

Him: Yeah they did thanks for asking

Me: Good to hear. So you gonna come by and scoop your stuff?

Him: Naw may be another time could you put it up for me ?

Me: Sure. I wasn't suggesting you come today. I'll stash it.

Him: Cool thank you

Him: Hey you can go head and keep that i'm good

I was THIS close to replying with the smartest of smart ass replies, but I decided to be the mature adult in the situation and left it at that.

I emailed the above series of texts to my friend along with a note detailing my extreme distaste for this supposed "gentleman." She told me that he told her he was OFFENDED that I didn't want to kick it post 3am Saturday night. Are you mofo joking? I told her I was appalled and he needs to apologize to me asap as it will be a cold day in hell before I tolerate such fuckery.

Is KB overreacting here? Call me a traditionalist, but I think the above correspondence and series of events is incredibly rude and anything but gentlemanly.

My friend who recruited me as the 3rd and thought that this dude and I would be a good match is disappointed it didn't work out. She also in my opinion insinuated that there was miscommunication going on and it wasn't completly the dude's fault for being a jackass. I highly disagree.

I suppose I made out on top on this one: I got to keep the chief! ;)

Smooches,

Barenaked Ladies

2009-03-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

The locker room at my gym is anything but a relaxed, comfortable, calm environment for ladies to dress before and after their workout. For some reason, various women walk around buck naked, which is not my problem. My problem lies in their drying game. P.s.: These women are always the owners of haggard, sagging, wrinkly bodies who have NEVER heard of a bikini wax.

These broads will dry themselves with their towel in the middle of the locker room, often times lifting their leg up and really getting in there to make sure their uterus is completely dry. Fine. But when I am sitting on the bench next to you putting on my workout gear, please do not raise your leg and commence the extreme drying. I looked to the left the other day as I was putting on my running shoes, and BOOM! Bush city. YUCK. I literally shrieked and closed my eyes shut, trying to erase the image from my brain. No luck.

After that awful beaver run-in, I walked to the sink area to wash my hands. Dude, another broad fresh from the showers was in there, naked as a jaybird. She was drying her entire body with the hand dryer. I understand it when people use it to dry their hair, but if you are really trying to get your body completely dry, a hand dryer is not going to get it done. And you risking dislocating a hip joint to thrust your leg up on the wall and clean the lady region is horrifying, and dangerous.

These chicks need to loosen the purse strings and sign up for the gym's towel service. Or bring your own hair dryer and towel! Jeez, I'd buy them one if it would save my eyes from seeing their birth canals on the regular.

I don't trust gym locker room cleanliness so I refuse to get dressed/shower there. Luckily I live close to the gym so it's not a problem. But I am still forced to sometimes get dressed to work out there if I am coming from work. And that's when I run into the barenaked ladies.

I wonder if I anonymously post a print-out of this blog in the locker room those women will get the hint?

Doubt it.

Smooches,

Domestic Science

2009-03-15T16:01:00.000-07:00

I was enjoying a lovely early dinner on Friday with my main B in Seattle. As we noshed and took advantage of the happy hour specials at a swanky restaurant downtown, we couldn't help but notice the incredible number of black men and white women or white men and asian women that were similarly enjoying the $2 oysters and angus beef sliders (unfortunately for KB she had to settle on a full priced cocktail and water, as y'all know I do not eff with seafood or meat like that).
Anywho, said B and I were the only black women in the joint. My friend, who has lived in Seattle for 9 years told me that's just par for the course. I shrugged my shoulders and began to ponder the reasoning behind the one sided mixed race couple phenomenon. Is it self hate? Do some men (or women) date outside of their race because they feel unworthy, unattractive, or unwanted themselves? I'm biased, being a product of the unusual black woman/white man coupling, and having been raised by a mother who is not the biggest fan of mixed race couples (I can't blame her, given we were disowned by the white side...lots of pain there). I know a lot of black women who feel rejected/unwanted by black men who prefer non-black women. I wonder how Asian men feel?

Obviously, KB doesn't discriminate when it comes to her dating game. I actually met four (4) dudes on Wednesday night last week! What can I say, when it rains, it pours (no pun intended). Of the four, one was black, two white, and one asian. All tall, smart, funny, and cute! It's about mo-fo time. ;)

Anywho, we left the topic of mixed race couples and began talking about dating in general. I've noticed that a lot of my friends who are in relationships act much differently when they are playing the girlfriend/wife role versus their regular selves (either at work or at play sans the man). I mean, these are some ball-busting argumentative bossy lawyers and businesswomen, yet when it comes to domestic relations, they turn to passive, pleasing, sensitive, women folk. Basically Claire Huxtable without the sass or underlying air of equality, respect, and confidence. June Cleaver with a job, if you will.

Meanwhile, I'm single. Perhaps I should change my game up if/when I begin dating one (or more) of the four new dudes. Of course I could never chuck my power suits and trade them in for aprons, but in Seattle the men (native or not) seem to be scared of their own shadows so maybe I'll test out the new approach and see what happens.

I'll keep you updated.

Smooches!

UPDATE: I had dinner with one of the four new jawns last night. I tried my best to be docile, sweet, coy, and tender. What a production! It was very hard to refrain from making witty comments and oddball quips...but I let him be the comedian. And I let him "school" me on recent legislation in WA regarding the chief (even though I knew about it and had my own analysis already thought out). I think it worked. I also showed him pictures of my cooking skills (between my brunch, superbowl party, and valentine's day extravaganza, you 'd think I was trying out for Top Chef). Dude is sold! Not sure if I am yet...hehe. We'll see. ;)

UPDATE 2: Dude came by on St. Paddy's day, as I mentioned I'd be baking that night. He left with a dozen green and white cupcakes, oh and two huge cookie bars (one with coconut, one without). Needless to say, he's hooked. ;)

What the Eff Wednesday (Malo Miercoles)

2009-03-11T12:47:00.000-07:00

The last thing on my mind last night when I went to bed was the phrase: God is Good. Y'all know KelleBelle is a card carrying heathen, but for some reason that's all I could think about last night.

Today started out as a regular day: up at a quarter to 5 to walk Kingston, hit the gym, dressed for work, hopped in the whip and was on my way into the office when...

I witnessed the immediate aftermath of a horrible accident. A jogger was hit by the car in front of me. I thought the guy was dead. I've never seen a dead body before (knock the hell on wood). I freaked out. Then he slowly lifted his head from the road he was laying flat on...and all you could see was blood and I think some teeth and/or bone fragments. After making sure he was fine (I yelled at a helpful bystander - "Don't touch him! His neck may be broken!") and assured all necessary witnesses were there for the police to interview (I didn't actually see the moment of impact) I continued on my way to work.

I turned on my computer and hopped onto Gmail only to find out some bad news about a friend. Two words: lay-offs.

As I sat at my desk in silence I said a prayer for the injured jogger and my now jobless friend. I couldn't help but think about the phrase I kept repeating to myself last night: God is Good.

(For the record my life hasn't been all candy corn and cosmos, but I thank whoeva is up in the heavens for my blessings daily, son!)

The jogger will recover from his injuries, my friend will find another, even better gig, and life will go on.

Life...she's a crazy B!

Hugs and kisses y'all,

Sleepless in Seattle

2009-03-05T11:36:00.000-08:00

Despite the title of this post, I am not referring to my insomnia. I've actually been sleeping in my spare time, due to Seattle's lackluster social scene leaving few alternatives. At least when I'm asleep I can dream about cities with a pulse.

Back to the post's title, I'm referring to the personality of the city. In a word: Snooze.

I've been a resident of the Emerald City for 7 months. Beautiful yes, but that's about it. The people define passive aggressive. Actually, strike the agressive part. They're just passive. And it doesn't end with the people.

Even the weather is passive. Seattle has long been perceived as a city with constantly falling rain. Not true. It is "rainy" on occasion, but when it does "rain" it's not your throw-down, tapping on the rooftop, umbrella-worthy rain.

The rain itself is passive aggressive. It's like, make a decision! Either rain for real, or just quit it and let it be dry. My word.

I suppose I am just used to the direct, in-your-face, truth hurts honesty, style of the east coast. In Philly (or Boston or NYC) you know when it's raining. And you know when someone is interested in you, pissed at you, in love with you, or about to shoot you. Here, I would have no idea if someone adored me, was abhorred by me, or was about to do a drive-by.

Even the "gangsters" out here are passive. They'll chill with their victims first before pulling out a gun on the sly and shooting in a crowd, hoping to hit their target. Lame. If you're gonna do it, at least do it "break yo'self!" style a la Boyz 'N The Hood.

Okay, that venting session felt good. Thanks for listening guys! Now, please come visit me. The city needs some flavor desperately, and we all know if you are reading this here blog, you are fierrrce!

Smooches!

The Label Maker

2009-03-03T10:25:00.000-08:00

Picture it: you are in a steady, stable, committed relationship. You live together, share bank accounts, exchange bodily fluids on the regular, and his/her mother calls you when they cannot locate their offspring...but you are not married, nor are you engaged. You are also in your 30s.

Referring to your mate as "boyfriend" just seems juvenile. "Significant other" is stale, and "husband to be" seems a tad illusory.

So what do you refer to each other as? In a pinch for convenience (say for instance if the dry cleaner gives a discount to married couples) you refer to each other as husband/wife, or just to avoid any awkward, lengthy, unnecessary explanations of the status of your relationship.

I'm thinking "spousal equivalent" may be the best bet. That's what Joy Behar from The View refers to her live-in "boyfriend" Steve, who she has shared her life with for 25 years. Yes it sounds mechanical and a bit dry but it gets the job done.

If I was in the above scenario, I'd likely refer to my live-in beau as my steady d... Let me stop. This is a family friendly blog after all.

For the record, I think the whole idea of labels and caring what other folks think about your relationship is rubbish. The only label I care about is Chanel. Jokes! Y'all know I'm a Gucci girl.

Smooches!

Happy Belated Black History Month

2009-03-02T08:59:00.000-08:00

Real talk: since we have a Black President, isn't every month for the next four years a Black History Month? Maybe not. But I just made myself feel better for not doing a darn thing to celebrate BHM.

Not to be a negative Nelly, but this BHM was not the best, sans the Black Prez. Here's why:

1. Chris Brown and Rihanna became this millenium's Ike and Tina. Sigh.

2. The Octomom's babies daddy appears to be Black.

3. Lil' Kim was announced as part of the Dancing with the Stars cast. Dammit I thought we were done with her foolishness. Hopefully her partner won't drop her. Her face would never mold back to its original plastic model.

4. A woman's bright magenta weave made headlines for saving her life when her estranged boyfriend shot at her. Why must I cry?

5. Sherri Sheppard continues to serve as the bane of my existence, and humiliates all black people everyday by playing the role of simpleton on the View. I'm on the verge of starting a petition for her removal. Or immediate enrollment in a GED program. Or a "word of the day" calendar. Something. That child is almost as dimwitted as Bey, but without the performance skills or killer body.

6. Speaking of Sherri, her TV husband on 30 Rock, Tracy Morgan, played the role of simpleton off screen. His shark tank (that is NOT a typo) caused a fire (what?!) in mid-February that set off the sprinkler system in his apartment building, flooding his neighbor's homes. I can't and I won't.

Fight the Power!

ps: I stole the BHM grocery store ad above from Thembi's blog: whatwouldthembido.com. She covered BHM brilliantly. Please do visit her site.

Crazy Young White Women

2009-02-26T19:41:00.000-08:00

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

2009-02-23T18:44:00.000-08:00

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!

Love, Life, and Lyrics

2009-02-13T13:43:00.000-08:00

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,

The Lush Life

2009-02-04T12:06:00.000-08:00

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!

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

Crazy Old White Men

2009-01-26T19:02:00.000-08:00

How does Larry King still have a job? He's easily 110 years old and has no interest in becoming familiar with "recent" developments in technological advancements. On a recent show he made a pathetic attempt to announce a "podcast." Only he pronounced it "Bobcast." Of course he did. All of those terms: podcast, blog, website, color tv, cell phone, wireless, etc. mean nathan to Mr. King. It's all nonsense to him, the internets and whatnot.

Moving on to another crazy old white man, I have yet to be impressed by the supposedly complex trickery of Bernie Madoff. Is it just me or did dude just rip a page out of Zack Morris' playbook? I think it was an episode about friendship bracelets or some such. The gang obtained a backer to finance their operation but due to some flub by Screech (who else?) they needed to obtain more money to cover their losses and then repeatedly robbed peter to pay paul. Unfortunately for Mr. Madoff, the FBI instead of Mr. Belding was there to catch him, and he is likely going to receive a much stiffer sentence than two week's detention.

On to a crazy not so old white man, Rod Blagojevich is the proud owner of a shiny pair of steel balls. I suppose I would too if I had that head of hair. It's gorgeous! But that's really besides the point. I have to give him props for not only trying to sell President Obama's senate seat, but then carry on about his business as if nothing happened, denied everything, and skipped his impeachment proceedings because he wasn't interested. Balls.

What other crazy bastards did I miss?

-KB

Don't Be Late to an Ass Appointment

2009-01-26T16:28:00.000-08:00

Hey kids,

I've posted about jump-off etiquette before.* This post is dedicated to the delicate process of when and how to fire a jump-off.

Since moving to Seattle, my jump-off game has left lots to desire. In my few months in the emerald city it has become painstakingly clear that there is a severe shortage of men with balls. I apologize for being crass, but there really is no way to sugar coat the tragic ball shortage up in this piece.

I'm in no hurry to find 'the one', but dang, can a girl get a lil' smooch here and there? I don't think that's asking too much. I was appalled at the behavior of a once stellar jump-off this past weekend.

After having a delightful dinner with my main gays and a straight chum (who suggested the title of this post) on Friday, I decided to hit up said jump-off, as it's been quite some time since KB has had any action. We decided to meet up at a bar nearby my crib at 10pm.

Can you believe this ninja had the nerve to send me a text at 10:10 saying he was "running behind"?!

Even my gays couldn't believe his level of fuckery. How you gon' be late to an ass appointment? I mean really. Anything that is on your plate that could possibly come in betwixt you and the appointment should be pushed to the side and left to post-ass tending to.

I immediately replied to the appalling text as follows: "I am no longer interested in your services. Don't bother coming." And yes, the double entendre was most definitely intended.

Only in Seattle would I need to write this here post. I am officially over the passive-aggressive b.s. the gents in these parts employ on the regular. If you like me, say so. If you have been assigned jump-off status, know your role and act accordingly. If not, you will be taken off the roster post-haste.

Smooches,

*See: "Jumping Off" at http://jakeandkelly.blogspot.com/2007/09/jumping-off.html

True Hollywood Story

2009-01-19T21:57:00.000-08:00

This is the True Hollywood (Hermosa Beach and Crenshaw) Story of Kelle Belle

KB took the show on the road and went home to Cali last weekend to celebrate her bday with mumsy and the pups. What a great trip! I feel invigorated, refreshed, and energized. Below, a few highlights:

Location: Hermosa Beach

Theme Song: California Girls by the Beach Boys

Besides the soul warming runs on the beach and quality time with the boys (my doggies) and moms, my time at the gym was a highlight of the trip. I've been away for 5 months and son, has a lot changed! One instructor got much bigger, one shrunk a few sizes, and a high school chum made some inneresting changes...

My favorite instructor spoke incessantly last year about her desire for another child. She even announced her preganancy and subsequent miscarriage while teaching a step class this past April. So I was thrilled to see her when I entered her kickboxing class on Saturday. She's as big as a house! Due in May. Yay!

My other favorite instructor could have stood to lose a couple of pounds... Despite her being the best boot camp instructor ever, she was quite flabby. It was weird. Anywho, she dropped at least 3 sizes and looked amazing. Her secret? She started running! Yeah, I was disappointed too when her secret did not lie in a pill bottle.

A high school chum I used to run into a lot at the gym last year was at boot camp class on Monday...and she lost some pounds...of hair. Basically, she went from Brooke Shields to Tina Fey before she got cute. Not a great look. She used to look like a pacific island Barbie but now she looks like a soccer mom. But I was too distracted to really analyze her hair cut by her ginormous new boobs! I remember she got married during the summer...maybe her new and improved sweater meat were a 6-month anniversary gift?

I miss that gym! It's like the capital of all 24 Hour Fitness clubs. Sigh. Back to the smaller, less fab, 24 Hour Fitness in Seattle...with less jaw dropping bodies to stare at.

Location: Baldwin Hills/Crenshaw area

Theme Song: To Live and Die in LA by Tupac

Moms and I headed to the Crenshaw mall to pick up some makeup from the Fashion Fair counter at Macy's (obvs they don't carry the black women's line at the Macy's near our whitewashed city). The highlight? The woman at the FF counter remarked that my mother and I were the opposite of her and her own daughter: "My daughter is brown and I'm high yellow; and you're brown and your daughter is high yellow." I didn't doctor that quote. She said it. And it was awesome! My mom and I hadn't heard that term (high yeller) used (in a non-joking manner) in quite some time.

After I copped the goods we poked our heads into the MLK day parade on Crenshaw blvd. I heart black people! It was a great event, with so much positive energy you couldn't help but beam with pride, happiness, and hope for the future.

Location: Hollywood

Theme Song: Hollywood by Jay & Bey

I went to a small dinner party hosted by the chef of a new restaurant ("Soul") that will be opening later this year. The food was fabulous, the condo was sick (you could throw a rock at Grauman's and the Roosevelt), and the company was FANTASMIC! My B of all B's flew into LA Saturday night to surprise me for my birthday! Her brother is one of the owners of the new restaurant. I thought I was just going to sample the menu. But the true reason behind the invitation was to hang with my gal and her gorgeous four year old daughter, who accompanied her mom on the trek from NYC. How lucky am I to have such a great friend?

By the end of the trip I was surprised to find myself missing Seattle and looking forward to getting back to my crib and work! Who knew KB would actually miss Seattle? Or her job?! I suppose it's a good thing. :)

Smooches!

Movie Manners

2009-01-17T23:58:00.000-08:00

Hey Kids! KB here hollerin' at ya from sunny southern cali. I came home this weekend to relax with mumsy and the dogs. Today, moms and I ventured to the movies to see The Wrestler. Phenomenal - I definitely recommend it. But this post ain't about the movie. It's about rude jerks that almost ruined the movie going experience with their dipwad antics.

The first culprit of movie jerkness is one Mr. Bradley Pitt. You see, our first choice was to see that Benjamin Button flick starring BP. Our plans changed once mother and I peeped the film length - 168 minutes. For our readers that rode the slow bus, that's almost 3 hours long. What is up with that guy and the epic length movies? Get over yourself Mr. Pitt. Only historical joints (holocaust, malcom x, jesus flix, slavery, etc.) deserve more than 120 of my precious minutes.

After deciding we shan't be indulging Mr. Pitt's ego-maniac fest, I convince momma belle to see The Wrestler. After copping the tickets, we were unpleasantly surprised to see a packed theater, even though we were 15 minutes early. As we slowly descend the aisle Moms scopes two seemingly open seats, but one of them has a purse on it.

I ask the owner of the purse if the seat was free and she ROLLS HER EYES! I couldn't believe it. She sighed, said yes, and begrudgingly moved her bitch bag to her lap. But that wasn't the end of her rudeness. Mom and I make our way to our seats and this heifer and her bitch brigade don't make the slightest effort to let us slide by. My mom couldn't believe how rude these women were. I brushed it off, and assumed we were just unlucky to choose seats adjacent to three grown up mean girls. That was until I turned around and peeped the row behind me.

There were two couples occupying the row (6 seats to a row) and one couple had an empty seat on each side of them! What a j move! If they would have moved one seat over to the left or right, another duo could have sat on that row, instead of sitting in the front row or having to split up. Unbelievable! My mom commented that if they really wanted their space while watching the movie, they would have gotten their matinee game on and could've had all the room in the world to be jerks.

Alright kids, thanks for letting me vent. Be kind to each other! And spay & neuter your pets.

-KB

Dream Weaver

2009-01-10T12:21:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had a crazy dream about a friend and then ponder for days what it meant? I don't. My most recent dream involved me starting a forest fire in the Washington woods while being haunted with a bone-chilling fear of a bad weave. Real talk: that was my dream on Wednesday. Anywho, my main b had a dream involving yours truly on Thursday night. Take a stab at guessing what it "means" and get ready for some laughs.

elaine: girl, i had the weirdest dream about you and me

me: spill it!

elaine: it seems like you and i were away somewhere together. it looked like some sort of resort that had a humoungous pool that went around the resort. it was weird.

I think la la (elaine's daughter's nick name) was there b/c it was more like a kid's resort. Anyway you and i were walking around the pool. we both had bathing suits on (or so i thought -more on that later.) I had a towel around my waist. Then we get on an elevator and this paralegal from my job is on the elevator as well.

My towel drops and to my and your surprise, I had no bottom piece on.

me:HAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT'S GOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm trying to see the seinfeld tie. There has to be

elaine: i quickly pull up my towel and the whole time i'm fretting think that alan (paralegal dude) saw my ...uhh...nether regions.

but here's the kicker. he gets off the elevator and i'm mortified. so i say to you, kelly, he didn't see anything right? i pulled up my towel quickly enough right?i was clearly seeking reassurance from you.

But you say,to paraphrase, "yeah, he saw. i saw his eyes pop out of the head. and forget about that, what's up with all that bush you got down there. wtf?"

I look down and i realized how out of control it was. i was sooooo embarrased. let me tell you, in my dream, i was praying that it was a dream. i felt so ashamed and you my dear, were no help at all! but i was ashamed not so much that he saw me but that he saw me with so much hair!

now, WHAT THE EFF DOES THAT DREAM MEAN????!!! when i woke up, i was like, damn, thank god that was a dream

me: GET A WAX! lmao!!!!!!!!!!

elaine: HA HA!

me: this was the funniest thing i have read in ages son. "Nope - he saw everything! eyes literally popped out of his head" hahahahaha totally something i'd say i love it.

guess what? I'm going for my bikini wax tomorrow...not going to a resort though

elaine: are you kidding me???

me: nope i've been trying to schedule one for ages

elaine: that's crazy. maybe i'm clairvoyant

me: right

elaine: ha! so it is YOU that needs the wax

me: my ish ain't out of control though. Actually it kind of is son...there was a tangle situation

elaine: ha!

me: if ish is that long that it has to be combed it's out of control. But i was researching the best spot to go for the wax

elaine: i'm scared of waxes. they hurt too much

me: I don't mind the pain - i actually giggle. guess i'm a masochist

elaine: you giggle? you have issues

me: yup. it tickles. tell me something i dont know. ps: you know this is IMMEDIATELY going on the blog right

elaine: i read something about waxes in oprahs mag. i'm told they are not supposed to double dip the stick in the wax and then use the same wax on someone else. There's the seinfeld tie in

me: double dip! there ya go. There was a locker room scene though on sein...with george i think some kind of towel drop. oh no! with elaine! and terri hatcher

elaine: oh, yeah, they're real and fantastic

me: by the way - this is also totally out of the sex and the city movie

elaine: yeah

me: miranda (you), sam - me

elaine: wax much

me: hahaha re: fantastic

elaine: but i think ur kinda right. i got a facial the other day and then i was reading an article about how mothers put everyone else b4 them. then i was thinking how its been a while since i did any pampering. CJ was ready to ditch me cuz i was in desperate need of manicure. perhaps thats what the dream was about. my need to make myself a priority, to borrow from oprah.

me: yeah i think that you're right

Grumpy Old Men

2009-01-07T13:49:00.000-08:00

I received a call from Brother Belle the other day. He never calls me at work so I knew something was up. Sad news: my paternal grandmother passed away. She lived a full, long life; the passing was painless and seemingly everyone is at ease that she is now resting peacefully. I asked my bro how my father's father was doing, since he will now live alone in his house in North Carolina....just a few towns away from my maternal grandfather, who survived my grandmother last year when she passed.

Then I started thinking...what if the two grandfathers became buddies? They are both widowers in their 90s living in small towns in North Carolina, having moved down south to live a slower paced life after raising their families in large cities (Philadelphia and Brooklyn, respectively).

But these men have never met. Why? My paternal grandfather disowned Papa Belle for marrying Mama Belle because she is: 1. Not jewish and 2. Black. Emphasis on numero 2. I never met my father's parents, and the only memory I have of my father's mother was her sending my brother and I cute hand-made birthday cards up until the age of 6 when my grandfather caught her and put an end to this practice.

Now that the two men are in similar positions and locations...maybe it's time for a meet-n-greet. Or at least an Oprah special. Jake, can you make that happen? Please make some calls. At the very least, this story should be made into a CBS made for tv movie, with the men becoming fast friends and spending their remaining days cracking jokes and talking trash in a basement barber shop in Queens, NY.

-KB

Random Thoughts!

2009-01-05T13:17:00.000-08:00

Moxie Crimefighter? Fine. Chuck? nay.

A co-worker just informed me that Rebecca Romjin and Jerry O'Connel had their twins...and the names are rough: Dolly and Charlie. I'm all for celebs naming their kiddos off-the-wall monikers, but at least be creative. If you're going to subject your youngins to a childhood full of schoolyard beatings, at least make the names worthwhile.

Sorry, did I mention they had two girls? Dolly? I guess. But Charlie? For a girl? Why would you name your child after a low-budget perfume made mildly popular in the 90s by a failed MTV VJ (Duff)? Not cool.

Update: A semi-famous boxer (Manny "Pacman" Pacquiao) just named his newborn baby girl Queen Elizabeth. Now that is a name worth fighting for (on the playground).

Mahcuss dahhhling...

With the tragic passing of fresh black girl Eartha Kitt, I couldn't help but think of the soon to be produced biopic of her life (you know it's coming). Who do you think should play her? If you say Bey I will slap you across your face. I'm thinking Taraji P. Henson. Thoughts?

The Crimson Tide* - Real World Style

I opened my gmail today with a shiny new message from the dean of my law school. She wanted to give alums the heads up that she will be nominated by B-rack today as Solicitor General of the U.S. Well ain't that about a b. Go 'head girl. She always wore the most awful pant suits, had deplorable hair, and never used a stitch of desperately needed makeup, but I like what she has done for the school, so I'm happy for her.

Then I got to thinking...the White House is going to be full of Crimson jerks (ps: do you think anyone will have the nads to suggest "Soul Man" for white house movie night?).

A few other HU peeps in the cabinet (I'm too lazy to research right now), combined with B and 'Chelle being HLS alums, will make DC awash with the crimson tide.

But I couldn't help but wonder: what would have happened if that other party won? I'm guessing the general manger of the Anchorage Walmart would have been a shoe-in for secretary of the treasury, and Arnold Schwarzenegger (or Hulk Hogan) would be set for secretary of defense. Elizabeth Hasslebeck would be in like flynn for the Secretary of State position and shamed Senator Larry Craig would be snagged for US ambassador to the UN (he is well known for his ability to reach across the (bathroom) aisle - hey oh!).

That's all for today's edition of Random Thoughts...back to work!

Smooches,

*See comments section for explanation of my "mis-use" of this term and others

New Year's Revolution Part Deuce

2009-01-03T13:48:00.000-08:00

KB, I like the way you think. I find New Year's resolutions to be silly, but you know I love a good revolution. The revolution will be blogged!

1. On behalf of 2008, I want to apologize to all years between 2000 and 2004. Seriously. I have been engaged in nothing but fuckery for the past year or so and it's time for that ish to stop. I used to be an ambitious, goal-oriented, super-serious kind of guy. I was Tracy Flick before she became Elle Woods and while Elle is fun, it's time to locate my inner Flick (and outer Flick, but that's a different post entirely). I have really met all my goals. It's great, but it is depressing too because I've lost my drive. I am not really working towards anything anymore, which pretty much sucks. I don't really know what my new goal will be, but I need it quick. I was considering making partner by the time I am 30, but that is so Elle Woods. Uggers.

2. It's adult time. I think I have been stuck in a time warp for the past several years. I am 27 and don't really feel any different than I did when I was like 20. I dress the same, act the same (for the most part), look the same, etc. How could that be!? I think I have to start acting my age. I am not exactly sure what that means, but it definitely requires change. As a start, I moved out of my studio into a big boy apartment, I am no longer watching MTV, no more ironic t-shirts, more shoes and less sneakers, and more big words. Oh, and I am going to learn to budget and save better. That's all some serious adult shit.

3. I am going on more dates. It's time to get back in the game and give the boys what they want. Or, at least get this boy what he needs. I think I want to spend time getting to know people and this time I am going to mean it. No, seriously. I am going to have long walks, talks, and dinners with interesting and gorgeous men. I am going to ask questions and I am going to ponder the answers and I am not going argue, debate or judge. I was never allowed to be around grown folk talk, so this might be hard.

4. Frienemies are sooo high school. I am getting rid of them. You are either my friend or my enemy. You can't be both and you can't be neither. I like a good frienemy. Why? They are a good release for all my saved up cuntiness. What makes a frienemy unique is that they are someone you don't like but find yourself around a lot (and don't have to be nice to for some other reason like work, church, etc.). But, you can't be too mean because then they will stop coming around. It's a delicate balance. It's waay too complicated for a grown ass man with grown man problems and grown man things to do, so I am done with it.

5. I am going to embrace the more conservative/republican side of me. And no, that does not mean I am becoming a bottom. I think it is now cool to be a Republican- it's the new Scientology. Politics like life is all economics: buy low, sell high.

6. I am going to eat more healthy and get focused on my fitness. Before my body starts breaking down or my metabolism breaks or something.

7. I am going to explore more and learn new things and go new places. It's time to be worldly. And wise. Worldly and wise.

8. I am going to do something(s) to make the world a better place. Grown folk can change the world and they do because they have a stake in it. I feel like 27 years into this world is a helluva investment and so I want to see it through.

9. In general I am going to stop acting like a teenage girl.

10. I think I am going to cuss some people out some more. I am a pretty calm guy. I get angry much, don't yell, don't cuss, don't create to much controversy. Shit is exhausting. You can't have a revolution without some anger and maybe even a lil bit of violence. Beware.

New Year's Revolution

2009-01-02T09:24:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year Kids!

I don't know about y'all, but I am so excited to be done with 2008 and am ready to be fine as wine in 2009. Holidays, schmolidays. I didn't go home to Cali to spend Xmas / Channukah / Kwanzaa / Festivus with the fam - a mistake I shant ever make again - and I had the displeasure of counting down to the new year at a club in Seattle so corny it made an MTV dance battle movie seem cool.

Anywhether, here at the Jake and Kelly Show, we never let our surroundings get us down - we Tim Gunn it and make it work, in any situation. So that is what I'm doing today. I've never been a huge fan of New Year's Resolutions, so I'm instituting a Revolution. I'm revolutionizing 2009 by revolting against the status quo and making these anti-resolutions:

1. I'm cancelling my Facebook and Myspace accounts. I've complained about these sites for some time, and I really do not find them useful or positive tools in my life. So I'm out. Besides, I miss my anonymity. If we are friends, you will still see pictures of me at various events, and get updates on big moves I make...that is if we are real life friends. And if we aren't, then you probably won't miss me on Facebook anyway.

Update: I am so happy that I have cancelled my accounts! I feel free and rid of high school esque nosiness and fuckery. And I doubly love all of the uproar that it has caused. I have received numerous inquiries via text regarding my sudden absence from those sites. Feels good to be missed! You can read about my latest love affairs and fashion choices in US Weekly.

Jake - I hear you about your Frienemies distaste. Part of the reason for me deleting my accounts was to cut off ties to a few...and a few friends of frienemies. Nahmean?

2. I'm going back on Caffeine! How I've missed my daily jolt. I gave it up about three weeks ago in an effort to help with my long-time battle with insomnia. But after an 8 day long withdrawal headache, I realized I like caffeine, a lot. I was able to fall asleep easier than when I consumed caffeine, but the pros didn't outweigh the cons. First of all, I had less energy at the gym and I began to yawn midday at the office - something I never do when I'm on the good stuff, even if I am on 3 hours of sleep. My mood didn't change too much but I definitely know I am much happier when I am hyped up on a cup of caffeinated coffee or tea. Finally, I think caffeine makes me a better person, and by better I mean thinner. Long live legalized drugs. Yay!

3. I am going to spend more money. Yup, you heard me right. Recession schmecession. I'm going to make smart, informed, high quality purchases. I will buy less clothes/accessories at traditional retailers, but more higher end, classic pieces. I went to a designer outlet spot north of seattle, and after mulling over a few purchases for hours to make sure I wouldn't have buyer's remorse, I came away with quality purchases that will be in my closest, on my wrist, and on my feet for years to come. Also, instead of spending a wad of dough at a snooze club in Seattle in an effort to be social, I'm going to keep it in the crib and instead schedule frequent weekend trips to more KB-style locales: NYC, Philly, LA, and Dubai (I'll see you soon Nak!). I don't have to pay for lodging in any of these places, so why don't I fly there more often?

4. I am going to spend more time at the office. I already see my co-workers more than my friends, but I love my job! I laugh and feel good at work. The people I work with are great folks, and the work we do is valuable and fulfilling. My mother frequently scolds me for working late hours but I don't see what's the problem. I've prayed for a job that I love and I've got it. Bonus: my office is very dog friendly, so once Kingston makes his move up north, I never have to leave my office. Hooray!

5. I'm going to watch more TV. I have an enormous flat screen in my gorgeous living room that I currently spend a lot of quality time with, but not enough. Immediately after publishing this post I'm calling Comcast (I called yesterday but they were closed for the holiday. Boo.) to order up every extra channel they have. Currently I only have the basic cable channels, and considering I rarely watch anything besides Bravo, NBC, and TLC, I haven't missed out on much, except for HBO. So I'm ordering up every HBO channel they have, in addition to other premium channels that I used to enjoy: Showtime (I miss Weeds!) and Cinemax (solely for quality after-dark programming).

I'm pretty sure I'll be able to stick to the above goals. And what about your resolutions/revolutions? Do tell.

Smooches!

Picture It: KelleBelle Hearts Seattle

2008-12-30T20:19:00.000-08:00

Estelle Getty is smiling down on me as I write this here blog. This is THE Picture It of all Picture Its.

Picture it: Seattle 2008. A snowstorm paralyzes the city. Seattle doesn't get snow often (evidenced by their 2 snow plows and half a bag of salt for the entire city) and the entire population went bat ass crazy after three consecutive days of heavy snow. No one could get to work, school, church (I assume), nothing. They sure could get to the bar, but I'll get to that later. As you all know, KB is not the one to let a little of the white stuff get in her way of shopping or having a fun time. So off she goes with her favorite gal pal - let's call her "Chocolate" - to wreak havoc on the city last Sunday. After hitting a few of their favorite stores downtown, they decide to visit Beckman, a friend of Choc's, who happened to have been birthed 28 years to the day. Y'all know KB loves any reason to celebrate. But how to get to said birthday boy's abode? Both of our cars were safely parked/stranded near our homes and there was not a taxi in sight.

After walking the streets for a half an hour or so, KB and Choc hop on a bus, hopefully going in the direction of Beckman's crib. Once we were on our way I breathed a heavy sigh of relief to be out of the snow and on the way to party town. Then the bus got stuck in a heavy patch of snow. Yada yada yada, we had to de-bus, walk another half a mile, and catch another bus that left us about 20 minutes from our destination. To make a long story longer, we walked half-way, were rejected by a cabbie that said we werent going far enough to take our fare, and then hitchiked the rest. Yes, chile. (Don't tell mama Belle - she'd kill me!)

We finally make it to Beckman's spot and pop open the bubbly and coconut/lemongrass infused sake we purchased on the way. Did I mention it took us approximately 2 hours to travel about a mile? Anywho, we de-coat, de-snow, and I try to bring my feet back to life, as they had frozen on our journey. Once my pups were dry and back to life, we got the party going. Choc got all Claire Huxtable on the boys (birthday boy has a cute roomie named...Rodriguez) and started whipping up some steak nachos with two types of cheese she found in the fridge. The only problem was there wasn't two types of cheese. Just one, and a stick of butter that Choc mistook for white cheese. Cut to the boys downing those butter nachos like they were dripping with liquid gold. I'm pretty sure they cut about 10 years off of their life spans but they sure did enjoy those chips.

Some time later, in walks two of their homies: let's call them San and Petrovski. These boys know how to party and we kept it movin' to the neighborhood bar to really start celebrating Beckman's birthday. A few rounds of hot toddies, four buttered nipples, and a game of Cribbage with the skeevy 109-year-old bar owner later, and we were off to my crib so I could check my blackberry and do a quick wardrobe change.

On our way to my pad we peeped a mob of crazed Seattleites sledding down an extremely steep hill near my house that was covered in snow, like the rest of the city. These fools were using all sorts of shizz to shimmy down the hill - air mattresses, pizza boxes, garbage can lids, laundry baskets, gates, street signs. A whole heap of fuckery. Naturally, we couldn't wait to join in on the fun! So off we go to join the crowd (after of course imbibing and hanging with bob at my crib). You know how KB gets when she has too much of the good stuff - honey, I couldn't form a sentence after we left my apartment. Everything that came out of my mouth was nothing but loud, crazy giggle fits for the rest of the night. It was a problem.

Once on the hill, Choc let her inner child rove rampant and this B was flying down the hill on all sorts of makeshift sleds like she done lost her mind. Me and the rest of the crew just watched and laughed. Choc woke up on Monday with a huge bruise on her thigh from an unfortunate run-in with a wall, but she said it was worth it and I have to agree.

I'm leaving out a lot of details but my memory is fuzzy. The night ended with me leaving the hill around 3am and having to get up at 6am for work. I was tired, groggy, and completely content. What a fun, crazy, random night. I officially heart Seattle.

Smooches!

P.S.: Choc saw an exact replica of the snow penis depicted above on a car near her house...or so she says.

KelleBelle's Picks

2008-12-19T17:30:00.000-08:00

Shello.

KB here with what you're watching, listening, and drinking this weekend. You can thank me later.

Watching: Slumdog Millionaire. Just see it.

Listening: Britney! Her new album gives. me. everthing. Kill the lights bitches! Perfect for the gym. Or work. Or church. I am disappointed with my beloved Bey. That "Single Ladies" song is a bit condescending if you ask me. And save for the video, the song is...eh. If I were a boy...I'd take it to the left, to the left...and buy Britney.

Drinking: Absolut - Los Angeles special edition. I couldn't resist when I saw the alcoholic ode to my hometown whilst at the liquor store. Vodka infused with acai, acerola, pomegranate, and blueberry. What a crowd pleaser! My friend - who never drinks - couldn't resist after he got a whiff of the delicious aroma. Cut to him dancing on my living room table to Single Ladies.

Meanwhile, I'm very excited to see the Philadelphia version. I'm thinking infusions of cheese wiz, onions, and meat. Mmm hmm.

Reading: chile please. I am knee deep in contracts and FDIC testimony. I'll start reading for pleasure in 2009.

Have a fabulous weekend kids!

Smooches,

Craigslist, I love thee

2008-12-12T11:05:00.000-08:00

Picture it: I'm moving to my fierce, completely furnished new place last weekend. But what to do with the few pieces of furniture I bought while at my temporary apartment? Two words: Craig's list!

Not only did I make money, I met the best folks ever while wheelin' and dealin'!

My ad: "Stylish Futon, Coffee Table, and Dining Table - Will deliver!"

I broke even on the "Stylish Futon" and sold it to a very nice single mum. I think I aggravated an old track injury helping her move it into her 2nd story apartment, but she didn't have anyone else there to help and I figured that would count as my mitzvah for the week.

I made a cool ten buck profit on the cappucinno brown coffee table that I originally bought at Ikea for $40! Mind you, I didn't intend to make a profit, as I listed it for sale at $40. But the nice folks I sold it to - a young asian gal and husky white male (a cross between woody allen and seth rogen) - insisted on paying me an extra 10 spot for delivery! I told them it wasn't necessary, as I had the table in the back of my SUV anyway. But they insisted. And bonus - the guy is from Philly and recognized my cell phone area code. This of course led to a convo about how dope Philly is and ended with him welcoming me to Seattle and inviting me to a game of pool with him and the mrs. at the local watering hole. Awesome!

Right after that, I headed to my next delivery - to drop off a small dining room table to a young, scruffy, college-age lad. Well, it turns out he wanted the coffee table this whole time, not the dining table. I apologized and told him I must have gotten his email confused as I had a lot of offers on the tables. He said no problem and bought the dining room table anyway! (I think he just needed any flat surface to roll his j's.) I threw in a groovy mirror I bought for 10 bucks and told him his girlfriend would make use of it. He gave me $20 bucks even though I told him 10 for both was fine due to my slip-up. He insisted on the twenty and said, "Welcome to Seattle!"

As I was relaying the above tale to my gal in brooklyn, she told me she had a great Craigslist story too! She had been shopping for a treadmill for awhile and got one off of CL for $200! Bonus: the delivery man was 6'7, west indian, and fine. Double yum!

Do you have a good Craigslist story? Do tell!

5 Reasons Jake and Kelly are not going to the Inauguration

2008-12-10T09:45:00.000-08:00

I'm home waiting for the cable guy and scantily clad in case he's as cute as the last guy.

While I wait, Jake and I are chatting away on gmail. The topic? Our plans to attend the inauguration. I'm still on the fence - the majority of our friends are going, but it is really becoming a hassle. As we normally do, we talked it out and decided to whip up a post, each listing 5 reasons why we ain't goin'. I'll let Jake go first:

Kellebelle, maybe it's true what we have been saying privately to each other all along: we are the only ones with any bloody sense. I too shant be attending any inaugerational activities in D.C. Let me count down all the reasons why for you and anyone out there who visits this thing we call a blog:

5. I hate D.C. Everyone knows that about me. I don't like the idea of a city not being a part of a state. Also, I once had a friend who was gay bashed there…in the gayborhood. Something isn't right about that place.

4. It's cold outside. January 20? Hell to the hell to the HELL NAWWW. I am supposed to trek alls the way down to DC, fight the crowds and then stand in the cold? I just had palpitations at the thought.

3. I missed the prequel: the million man march.

2. I am slightly sick of Barack Obama. Sick, sick, sick. Black or not, it's just been too much. Unless he is going to put a leotard on and dance with Michelle and Hilary by his side, I just can't do it. And, I swear he has been saying the same ish since winning the election as he did during the election. It's like chill out and keep it real. Who acts the same in an interview as they do once they have a job?

1. The revolution will be televised and in HD. Enough. Said. HD is so clear that really it's like being there. You will still be able to tell your kids I was there the day…

Jake, you are a mess. But I love you. Naturally, we have overlapping justifications (are you on your monthly too?! Samesies!) Here's my list:

5. My wallet would prefer not to be raped. A friend told me people are calling the actual inauguration passes "Golden tickets," and trying to hawk them for 5Gs. B please. The white house may soon be called the chocolate factory but it really isn't that serious.

Also, there are going to be sooo many people in DC, the thought of attempting to go to a bar, club, mcdonalds, the train, puts me off. There are going to be lines and inflated admission prices up the ying yang. And you know black folk don't know how to act. I foresee some lowbudget fights at the line and medium to high budget fights at the bar.

4. It's gonna be cold. The northwest is no southern cali, but it definitely is not as cold as the east. And I downsized my cold weather wardrobe when I made the move to the west coast from Philly so I'd have to go out and get all new uber cold weather gear. Which isn't a bad thing but there's just no time! I'm telling you I need an assistant. Maybe I can get one of the Diddy failures?

3. Too many folks. All of my friends from all different parts of my life (high school, college, law school, work, my stint in county, beauty school, etc.) are going and it will be hard to pick and choose who to spend time with and not hurt anyone's feelings. It's hard work being a diplomatic social butterfly.

2. It's all about the connects. And real talk: KB just don't got 'em or cares to use the few she has. I ain't calling nobody's assistant's cousin to get an invite to Oprah's ball. Although I bet the food is going to be ridic! I love that she just announced publicly that she could give a rip that she's tipping the scales at 2 hun. A black man is in the damn white house. If that ain't adequate reason to throw down with some greasy food and champagne on the regular, I don't know what is. Go 'head O.

1. Despite alladis, I'm still likely gonna go! Jake, I'll pick you up a t-shirt.

Meanwhile, the cable guy is here. Let's just say my crappy old sweatshirt and comfy yoga pants are back on.

Smooches!

KB and Jake

Random Thoughts: Hurry Up and Wait

2008-12-05T16:30:00.000-08:00

In the second installment of KB's Random Thoughts, I will explore life's frustrating instances of immense anticipation and preparation, followed by a swift, disappointing let down.

Scenario 1

You're at the gym, ready to get your sweat on. You strip off your hoodie, coat, sweats, and are ready to get it in like FloJo on the treadmill that you specifically picked out for its location - bordered by the mirrored wall, of course. You place your water bottle in the water bottle holder, you re-tie your sneakers to make sure your feets are ready to fly for at least 4 miles, the ipod is set to your "work-it-out" playlist, towel is swung over the data panel so you don't have to stare at the clock while time passes ever so slowly as you trudge along for 30 minutes. You is red to go.

You press "Quick Start" on the machine. Nothing. The damn thing is broken! So now you have to pack up all your shizz and find another machine that is free and set it up all over again. Ugh!

Scenario 2

You're at the office and just saw the most hilarious youtube clip that Jake forwarded you. Upon summoning your co-workers to huddle around your desk to peep the hilarity, you are greeted by a blank web page and/or an error message. After a few minutes of awkward silence while waiting for the page to load, your co-workers slowly slink away one by one and ask you to let them know when the site is up. Boo.

Scenario 3

Your favorite tv show is mid-season and every episode is fresh and new. You tivo/dvr this week's episode and hurry home on Friday to finally watch it. Then you realize that tv guide lied to you. This ain't a "new" episode! It's a friggin clip show of what has transpired thus far this season! Boo! You'll have to wait until next week for a true "new" episode.

I have been burned by Top Model many a time. The biggest burn was part one of the series finale of Seinfeld. What a rip!

Scenario 4

You're at your favorite boutique, department store, friend's closet, etc. and have amassed an armful of frocks that you want to try on and hopefully purchase should they fit appropriately. You carefully survey the showroom floor one last time to make sure you didn't miss a garment that you want to try on.

Off you go to the dressing room, de-robe, and reach for your first garment. Dammit! Wrong size! You could have sworn you grabbed an 8, but this thing is clearly meant for a child. Or anorexic. Regardless, it ain't fittin' over your lady lumps. So you reach for the next garment and realize you totally have the wrong undergarments on - it's a slinky strapless number and you have on an over the shoulder boulder holder and granny panties. Boo!

I usually am so frustrated at this point I storm out of there and head to the nearest shoe store, where I know I am prepared to try stuff on. Although in my big footed case they rarely have my size so I am forced to window shop, buy accessories, and go home to my closest to take my pick of re-runs. Tragic.

New Years (w)E(a)ve

2008-11-30T18:47:00.001-08:00

December is amongst us and folks are starting to get serious about their New Year's Eve plans (my preparation involves getting my hair did, thus explaining this post's title).

What are you planning? I have a feeling that most folks are so amped for 2009, the celebrations need not be spectacular or over the top as prior years. Simply celebrating in one's home in gleeful anticipation of what the new year (specifically, post-January 20th) will bring seems apropos, especially in light of the economy and such.

Now that I am semi-settled in Seattle, I have decided to make the two-hour drive north to America Junior for my new year's eve festivities. I have never been to Canada, and seeing as how Vancouver is uber cheap (.70/$1US) I'd be silly not to go. Before I pull the trigger and book my accomodations (4 star hotel for $65/night!), I had to comparison shop and flush out other NYE options:

1. Vegas. Yawn. I have never been a fan of sin city.

Pros: lots of party options

Cons: Casinos are gross, the clubs are pricey, it's cold, and a high probability of running into Paris Hilton. Yuck.

2. NYC. Tons of fun, but I am biased because 60% of my bff's live in the city and surrounding burroughs.

Pros: my main b's are there, lots of options to party.

Cons: everyone else in the universe will be there.

3. LA. Never been to a club in LA for NYE, but I'm guessing they will be overpriced and full of wannabes, posers, and Bill Mahr.

Pros: my family will be there and the weather is mild.

Cons: my family will be there. Jokes! But real talk, I like to get a lil crazy on NYE, far from the watchful eye of mother (and brother).

4. Philly

Pros: Everything.

Cons: Flight time, and it'll be frosty.

5. Miami

Pros: the weather, tan situation.

Cons: flight time, hotel/party expenses, crappy music.

6. Atlanta

Pros: One of the Real Housewives may be at your party.

Cons: One of the Real Housewives may be at your party.

7. DC

Pros: the city will be brimming with excitement due to the upcoming inauguration.

Cons: you are likely going for the inauguration so save your duckets.

8. Chicago

Pros: you may be able to celebrate with Barack and fam before they move on up to the white house.

Cons: you'll freeze your nads off in the process.

9. Destination (anywhere outside the U.S. sans Canada)

Pros: you won't be in America.

Cons: you'll likely come out of pocket hard core. And no one wants to greet 2009 broke(r).

10. The crib.

Pros: low cost, and you can drink to your hearts desire without fear of a DUI or a beer-goggle induced makeout session at midnight.

Cons: Reduced chance of a beer-goggle induced makeout session at midnight.

Whatever you choose, make sure your NYE is swexy, safe, and fun!

Smooches,

Fanksgiving

2008-11-27T15:14:00.000-08:00

I am thankful for so many things...family, friends, my naturally arched eyebrows, the president-elect, my health, my iphone, etc. What about you?

As I sit at home, waiting for my brother to return from a jog on the beach so we can get down to thanksgiving bid-ness, I started to ponder what in the hell I will say I am thankful for during prayer prior to dinner:

1. Mama Belle. I forgot to pack my jewelry bag for my trip home. If I didn't have such a fierce mum, I would have panicked, as I feel naked without a pair of pearls on by day, door-knockers by night. However, I simply informed mother of my fashion faux pas, and before you could say Chanel, moms came in with her huge stash of gorgeous accessories. After perusing the pretty things for an hour or so, I was dripping in fierce borrowed jewels for a night out in LA. The best part? She let me keep some of them! Best mom ever.

2. Beyonce. Everyone is well aware that I have been a loyal fan of this lady for years. I am thankful she is back on the scene with a new record. But I would be even more thankful if Santa brought her a speech therapist for Christmas. I made the mistake of tuning into The Tyra Show during the interview portion. Jesus, take the wheel. Just shake it and sing please. We all have our roles in life.

3. Swagger. It's difficult to describe, but I like to call it an undefined air of confidence with a side of sexy. So really it's swexy. Anywhether, I can't get enough. Especially when the swagger is accompanied by a yummy set of lips. (Jake, I'll give you the deets over cocktails, via webcam.)

4. Michelle Obama. I've posted about 'Chelle before, but this is an update. I am so thankful that she is who she is, and is loved by an equally amazing man. Tall, educated, and strong.

5. New friends. Now that I'm in my 3rd corner (or is it 4th? does Jamaica count as an uber-southern corner?) of the U.S. I, for the first time, had to start from scratch in the friends game. Definitely a challenge - even for a social b-fly like Kb. Luckily, I have amassed a pretty dope squad thus far. One day, I'm going to have a KB friends reunion and everyone will meet, greet,
drink, and swap embarrassing KB stories (Philly will likely win that race).

And finally, I am thankful for my big brother. He turns the big 3-0 today and I am so blessed to be the Lisa to his Bart. He just returned from his jog, and on his way to the laundry room to throw in his sweaty workout gear, he asked me if I had anything that needed to be washed. But this is how he asked: "Have any darks? Besides your elbows and neck."

That, my friends, is love. Happy Birthday big bro!

Happy Thanksgiving kids.

Smooches!

KB

Venti Please!

2008-11-25T07:34:00.000-08:00

I don't normally go to Starbucks. I am not a big coffee drinker and I find Starbucks to be a confusing cultish place where people speek a special language and are part ridiculously happy and part super bitchy. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that Starbucks is Scientology church. I have no proof, but I'm just saying.

Any way, today I had some. I don't know why. I think it had something to do with my outfit. I felt very urban, very fashion forward, very Paris, very gay chic with my little murse, cardigan and new scarf. I new it was super gay because this lesbian passerby looked at me like she was going to kick my ass!

I have been feeling funny since Barack became Prez. I find myself becoming a hippie. A white hippie no less. Maybe this election will finally result in assimilation? I feel like I have to behave a certain way now. Like the stigma has been lifted and excuses removed and expectations elevated. I might even have to go green. It can't be too hard, I was a raw foodist for a week!

In any event, I had a pumpkin spice latte soy grande (or was it soy spicey grande latte)? Whatever it was, it was delicious and I am hooked! I was feigning for my next fix before I finished my first one and I was regretting the decision to get the grande instead of the venti. I always get the grande because I think people will judge me if I get the venti. That doesn't stop me from getting the obnoxiously large sized drink at Jamba Juice, but I have convinced myself that that's different because its healthy (or possibly healthy).

The point is that I am now a Scientologists. I can't wait to try the water next time I go in (as soon as I finish this post), I hear Madonna loves it! Wait, is that Kaballah? I might be that too. Is it no longer okay to call Modonna Madge?

Oh, it was a grande pumpkin spice soy latte. Delicious.

Hello Pot, I am Kettle!

2008-11-21T12:13:00.001-08:00

I am pretty out of it. I hardly keep track of appointments and barely check my email and there's no good reason for it. It's a problem particularly at work. However, today I decided to do better. I decided to attend a training session taught by my mentor. You know, it's always good to show face (especially one as cute and done up as mine) every once in a while. And, it's not like I was doing anything anyways.

I go to my meeting and as soon as I sit myself down to learn THE SHIT HITS THE FAN. Thus I present to you the FRIDAY CRAZIES!!!

I get a text from my friend, who earlier this year had a nose job. He wanted to get rid of what he called his "Jew nose." He loved his new nose and wassn't shy about showing it off using pictures of old and new nose. Then his Dr. convinced him to let him tweak the nose just a bit to make it even better. Now, with that background I present to you the following blackberry messager exchanges:

Friend: I hate my new/old nose! I am so upset right now! I wanna cry!
Me: Why? Maybe it's just swollen. It's temporary.
Friend: You have no idea how dissapointed I am, it really looks bad, I'm so screwed!
Me: Oh no! Have him put it back to the way it was.
Friend: I look like a freak! I'm not going to be able to leave the house!!! He can't put it back. He is an idiot and I am an idiot for letting him do it. I can't, I'can't...***tears, ***sniffle.
Me: It can't be that bad, I am sure it's just different. You'll get used to it.
Friend: I am just worried my BF won't like it.
Me: Are you serious!? He loves you as you are and your nose won't make a bit of difference.
Friend: Whatever, if he doesn't "like" me anymore because of this shit, then it wasn't right from the get go.
Me: You are a silly girl.
Friend: Yeah, Kinda.
Me: Bless your heart.
Friend: Oh, Please bless my nose.

Time passes

Friend: Ok, I may have been a little quick to judge, it's still swollen, I'll have to wait another month before I can officially say that I hate it, overall I am still beautiful.
Friend: And I should only accept those who care about me as a nice person, besides, my next patient (50 year old lady) has a crush on me!
Me: Because you are a nice person?

Now, just as soon as this conversation jumps off I get a text from another friend!

Me: Are you home? Work depresses me. Let's hang out.
Friend: No. I thought I would see a walk in shrink. Been here 10 minutes and I'm already pissed off.
Me: Wait, there are walk in shrinks!? Why don't you just talk to me. I can be a shrink. Maybe better than a lawyer.
Friend: At St. Vincent's there are, they said there is a wait so I thought I would stay until I get sick of waiting.
Me: (other friend) doesn't like his new nose.
Friend: OH NO! He better leave this nose job alone and let it be his last. If he keeps going he's going to look like cat woman. And btw, I've been here 30 minutes and I hate the front desk woman. That along with the other crazys is making me rethink my intake form. I may add homicidal to the list.
Me: NO!!! I'll give you a lorazapam. It will calm you down!
Friend: Oh god! One of the CPs (Crazy people) just got all agitated by his wait time and was acting up, I fear this may insite a riot. If I text 911, leave work and meet me in the safe house....with a brownie if you have time.
Me: I can't take it. Am going to faint.
Friend: You should see me! I keep laughing out loud and I think the CPs have accepted me as one of their own! This couldn't be a worse misunderstanding!
Friend: To make it better, I think the front desk ppl think I'm a drugseeker.
Me: This is crazy! Why can't you just go to an AA meeting!?
Friend: I am not an alcoh0lic.
Me: Whatever, it's free therapy and you don't need an appointment....AND they might have brownies.

It doesn't stop there...midway through all of this I get an IM from another friend (randomly)!

Friend: You're right. I'm totally in love with Mike Little

Background note: Mike is this chubby guy that my friend always hangs out with. I would call him fatty in this post, but she already has a fatty in her life and I already have a chubs, and fatty magoo is taken, so we are just creating an actual name for this guy. In any event, I have been teasing her about being in love with this guy for a while, but she is too vain to date him because he's chubbers mcflubbers (oh, look at that).

Me: OH.MY.GOD.
Friend: It's okay. I am not going to do anything.
Me: OH!! MY!! GOD!!! I didn't believe it until you just said it!! Why wouldn't you do anything? He's totally in love with you too and you know it.
Friend: Not true. He has a girlfriend. We're out with a girlfriend of mine and he's so sweet with her. Which made me realize how much I like him. But maybe it's like how I love you.
Me: You love me like you love a fat person!? How could you say that to me?
Friend: I have to go.
Me: Wait, do you or do you not love me the same way you love a fat person? Are you calling me fat!?

Eventually, my meeting would end. But, I swear all of this was too much for an hour long presentation. It's like, why did all the crazies start acting up at the same time and during the same hour when I actually had something to do.

And, if you are reading this and don't know any of these people they are all as dramatic as they sound. You may think they are exagerating, but they are not. We are all this dramatic, this vain and this ridiculous.

Thank God for the Blackberry! I had three different real time conversations via 3 different mediams (bb messenger, google talk and text) all the while "learning" about: indubitable equivalent, impairment, confirmation and who knows what else. These are just some words I picked up during all the texting.

What a Friday!

I am not mean, I am honest.

2008-11-18T07:21:00.000-08:00

Do you think I am fat?

This is a question I never want to hear. Ever. And, I don't know why anyone would ask me this question. It's like my truth serum. I can avoid questions and sugarcoat answers with the best of them but I just can't put lipstick on a pig.

Recently, I had a date ask me if I thought he was fat. My initial thought was Godamit, can he read my mind? Or, do I have my you are fat face on? In any event, he asked. Once the question was posed my head almost exploded with thoughts. I wanted to be nice and I wanted to be honest.

So what came out of my mouth was both: "No, I don't think you are fat, but I do think you are gay fat."

Excellent. What is gay fat? I think everyone knows what gay fat is: Mary Kate plus/minus 5. Why did I think he was gay fat? First, he was. Second, he used to be fatter. Third, he wasn't trying to lose weight. Me, myself, personally? I think that number 3 is a problem by itself. As a gay you should almost always be on some kind of diet and trying to lose weight or build muscle or something. If not, you are gay fat. Truthfully, you're gay fat even if you are doing all of those things.

You see, fat is literally like the Devil. The devil may not exist, but damnit if you are not scared of going to hell. Even if I am not fat and am not close to being fat, I am pretty damn scared of getting there. So I like to give half of my sandwiches to the homeless thus avoiding fat and hell.

I also have problems with guys that used to be obese. Someone knew you when you were big and that person will think that I am dating a fat boy. My record is clean. I once skirted close to a 34, but was a solid 31 after a quick 3 day juice fast and 4 enemas. I feel like we should have been able to date at any point, but that can't be the case if your nickname used to be bigstuff. Although, if there is an alternate explanation for the nickname we can talk.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the gym.

Lonely Planet, KelleBelle Style

2008-11-17T16:04:00.000-08:00

Having lived in three corners of the good ol USofA and a stint in Jamaica, I have been privy to a variety of phrases and customs specific to that part of the country/world. Below, a few notable comparisons. Please add your own in the comments section.

Sentence ender

Seattle: Whatnot (usually preceded by and/or)

Philly: Nahmeen?

LA: ...or whatever

Kingston: ...or some fuckery like dat (runner up: Struuup!)

Drinking in preparation/prior to a night out

Seattle: Pre-Funk

Philly: Pre-Game; Get it in (although that is used to describe just about any social activity)

LA: Pre-Game (lame, but better than San Fran: Get Hyphy)

Kingston: Um, this would infer there was a time prior to going out when I wasn't drinking (excluding work hours...except on Fridays).

TV Show based in the City

Philly: "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" (runner up: Parking Wars!)

Seattle: "Frasier" (duh)

LA: "Beach Patrol: Hermosa Beach" The show is hilarious - it's basically "Cops" but (wait for it) at the beach (my hometown), arresting drunks on skateboards.

Kingston: Besides the native soap operas (which are fab!) I am at a loss.

Drink of Choice (non-alcoholic)

Philly: Rita's Water Ice

Seattle: Anything with caffeine in it

LA: hot water with lemon (or diet coke)

Kingston: Coconut water

Drink of Choice (alcoholic, the way God intended drinks to be)

Philly: Yuengling (beer)

Seattle: Adios (cocktail)

LA: Vodka and sugar-free red bull (rimmed with white powder, and it ain't salt)

Kingston: Red Stripe (beer)

Nibbles

Philly: Cheesesteak (duh)

Seattle: Anything accompanying your cup of coffee (muffin/biscotti)

LA: Anything low-fat/carb (and it best be kosher)

Kingston: Patties (runner up: pan chicken! the best meal upon the let out at the club)

Dear Jesus, I am Sorry. Love Jake.

2008-11-10T17:42:00.000-08:00

This weekend I used Jesus to end a date that was approaching FIVE HOURS LONG. GOD DAYUM! Somethimes you have to know when to say when and when to say Jesus.

I was on a date with a guy I have been dating for like several months. Very casual. For some reason I just haven't been into this guy. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I don't know if it is because he is taller than me (by a lot), because he is dumber than me (by a lot), because he is poorer than me (by a lot) , or because he is younger than me (by a lot in maturity). Alls I know is that I wasn't feeling it and I tried my best. I was all like it's okay to date a 21 yo from the ends of Brooklyn who works part time at a makeup store and spends his off days drinking with his moms and finds fun in poking me and giggling. I can. I am evolved and open minded. Turns out, I am delusional.

Anyways, we spent almost all of saturday together and as the day went on I became more and more annoyed and bored with this guy. I mean, can't a guy smoke his reefer in peace? He wouldn't leave. He even spent the night. I tried playing sleep, but I could sense his awakeness so I made out with him some, but I wasn't even into that.

I told him that in the morning I had to go to church. And in the morning I got up and said I was going to church. He watched. I said I am getting in the shower so I can go to church. He watched. I got out and said I am getting dressed for church. He decided to get up now too. I got dressed for church and went down stairs. He came along. We get outside and I say I need a jacket. I said I don't need a jacket. He looks at me. I say I am going to get a jacket. He says I'll wait right here for you (outside my building...GOD DAYUM). I go get a jacket and he proceeds to walk me to the subway where I go into the subway and stand for a few seconds. I then came out and quickly turned the corner and went home to take a damn nap.

Can you imagine? I got fully dressed for church and went all the way to the subway to end a date. You know what's even funnier? I was so committed I put BET on and sang gospel songs. Granted, the only one I know is Jesus, Oh What A Wonderful Child from Mariah Carey's Xmas album and lucky me so did he because he. lives. for. Mariah (but, who doesn't really?). Even funnier? This all happened at about 10am. He had to leave to go to work at noon anyways. I went through all of that for 2 hours of solitude.

And, I like this guy. He is sooo sweet and I hope he never finds out, but I get the sense that he knows. One week earlier I pretended to get a last minute work assignment on my BB at about 10pm at night and I don't think he believed me. I feel terrible.

As mean as I am you think I would just be honest right? Actually, I think that would be too nice for me.

Don't Take Offense

2008-11-07T15:22:00.000-08:00

In light of today's brouhaha over President-Elect Obama's reference to himself as a "Mutt", I couldn't help but wonder: who says what is offensive?

As you all know, I have no problem with self-deprecating terms to depict the mongrel race. However, I have learned that many people find the term "mutt" or "half-breed" to be quite offensive. I find it interesting that the majority of people who do find the terms offensive are not "mixed-race" themselves (in my experience). But I am sure there are some halfies that find the terms offensive as well.

Anywho, in typical KB fashion I have compiled a list of terms that, depending on the audience, elicit a chuckle, or a nasty eyeroll:

1. Mutt or Half-Breed
I do not find these terms offensive, although I am not sure that I would be okay with a non-mongrel using the terms. I'm so complex.

2. Switch Hitter

I had no idea this could be construed as an offensive term to describe bi-sexuality. Sorry Tila!

3. Gay

This term has become so engrained in straight folk's casual conversations, I doubt it has the same negative connotation that it used to bear. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

4. Ghetto

The majority of people I observe using this word are usually on the business end of a b-slap.

5. Girl or Boy (used to describe grown black women/men)

I cringe everytime someone adds "girl" to the end of their statement to me, in an attempt to prove their coolness, I presume. It does the opposite and pisses me off in the process. I know for a fact my brother will get all Hulk on a fool for referring to him as "boy." Yet, the terms are still used nonchalantly by non-black people, especially "girl." I blame Martin (Payne, not LK, Jr.).

What else...?

-KelleBelle

P.S. Thanks to my co-worker Adam for his suggestions (Oreo and Twinkie). Although these sound like delightful nicknames, they are patently offensive in their meaning when applied to black and asian people. I'm looking for words that can be offensive or harmless, depending on the speaker and the audience.

November 5th Game Plan

2008-10-28T17:42:00.000-07:00

What are you going to do on Wednesday, November 5th?

I know I'll be nursing a hangover - hopefully with a smile and newfound sense of hope for the country, and not as I make travel arrangements for my relocation to France should a certain elderly man snag the W.

If all goes to plan, I will do the following on November 5th:

1. Walk around the office George Jefferson style the entire day.

2. Bump "Brown Skinned Lady" in my whip on full blast in a nod to our new first lady.

3. Give the bird in the direction of Alaska out of the left side of my car when I am driving Northbound (I'm in Seattle ps).

4. Rock my natural hair. That white house is about to be full of hot combs and grease!

5. Buy stock in Johnson and Johnson, the manufacturer of Luster's pink oil (see #4).

6. Purchase and consume fried chicken and watermelon in front of white folks without hesitation.

What are you going to do?

-KB

Recession Proof Jobs

2008-10-21T11:42:00.001-07:00

Hey kids. I have been meaning to blog about hot topics regarding the upcoming presidential election but honestly I am just about burned out. I've seen and heard enough debates, snl clips, and npr stories to last me a lifetime...or at least until 2012. Hopefully by then the economy will be in a much better place, but until then, times is tough, honey.

I was at a swanky restaurant (for happy hour; we all know KB does not eat solid food after dusk...unless it's an olive or cherry in her cocktail) the other day with some coworkers and engaged in a delightful conversation with a very chatty bartender named Chip. He mentioned that he had worked at said swank establishment for 5 years and had never seen a no-reservation night until this month...when they had 3 in a row. Interestingly, he mentioned that the bar has never been better and all waitstaff are now seething to get a gig serving up cocktails - because that's where people are spending their dough. Who needs a thirty dollar steak when you can get an extra dirty martini, some complimentary peanuts, and a case of the giggles for a ten spot?

That being said, I have compiled a list of recession/depression (prove me wrong Bernake!) proof gigs:

11. Medium-Low Priced Callgirl. Cut the BJ fee in half and throw in a two-fer deal on Fridays and you may be on your way to buying that mobile home you've had your eye on.

10. Bartender/cocktail waitress. In times of economic distress, folks always reach for the booze to soothe their pain.

9. Collector. Be it credit card, student loan, mortgage, car note, wal-mart lay-a-way, etc. folks are behind on their payments. And someone's gotta nag them for it.

8. News Anchor. Someone's gotta tell you why you don't have a 401K, house, or job anymore.

7. Garbage (wo)man. All the trash you left behind at your soon to be foreclosed house has got to go somewhere.

6. Bus driver. Folks are struggling to pay the car note, let alone fill up with still high gas prices, so the public transporation sector will definitely need more drivers to bus around peeps going to and fro (the unemployment line).

5. Comedian/enne. Everyone needs a laugh, especially during hard times. Dust off that karoke machine in the garage and take your act on the road!

4. Reality show jerk. Apparently, if you lack any kind of skill, intellect, wit, pride, or class, you will always, always have a job at VH1. It may not pay anything up front, but you'll get a fake mansion to call home for 6 weeks and numerous opportunities to sell your soul after the show wraps.

3. Bootlegger. Who has money or time to hit the movies these days? I know I don't. Meanwhile, I'm heading to MLK blvd. to snoop out the neighborhood bootleg connect and cop a two dollar copy of "W." What?

2. Fireman. Folks are desperate for cheese and unfortunately many may go the arson route for that good insurance money. Although neighbors may not give a rip if their doomed home burns either, in the interest of public safety, the fire really should be put out.

1. Cop. Crime always rises in an economic downturn. If you don't mind dodging bullets from frustrated out of work citizens, it's Police Academy 6 (or is it 7) for you.

Picture It Bitches!

2008-10-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

I mean, everyone loves a picture it, right? Then picture it: NYC 2008 at random Gay Bar. I am minding my own business (as I am known to do) and out of nowhere I was attacked by a large angry woman.

It's true. I was sitting near a window and a gaggle of gays and their hag decided to sit right outside the window and smoke their fags. I ever so politely and ever so gently slam the window shut, lest my beer be poisoned with second hand smoke. Well, the fatty-gay doesn't take it too well and starts taunting and talking shit through the window. Bet. I open window and say: sir, is there a problem? He wants to know why I closed the window and I explained why. We go back and forth and I am on the very verge of cussing him what some might call...the fuck out. But, he was being so sweet, bless his heart. I have a fond place in my heart for sweet fatty gays wearing ill-fitting smedium shirts. I do. BUT, before we could finish exchanging pleasantries his rotund hag slammed the window in my face.

Gasp. I didn't know what to do. What does one do in a situation like that? Well, just as soon as she slammed that window I had it back open and shouted: Don't you dare slam the window on me Fatty Magoo. All hell breaks loose. They all come back into the bar and she tells everyone what I said, one of her pocket gays tossed a piece of ice in my direction. She storms out and then storms back in and is generally hysterical.

I too am upset. As mean as I am, I would never want to call a fat girl fat. I think it's terrible. I certainly wouldn't want to call a fat girl fat in a gay bar. A gay bar is sposed to be a safe place for fat girls. It's a place where they can be peppered with compliments and suuported for their inner fierceness and alladat. Calling a fat girl fat in a gay bar is like calling a priest a fag in the middle of mass. Just plain wrong.

Yet there I was. I had done it. I had broken the sacred trust between a gay and a hag. Or did she!? Mayhaps she broke that there trust. As nice as a gay may be, we all know that the worse possible thing is always at the tip of the tongue, as was the case with me. I didn't mean to call her fat, but the word is almost always at the tip of my tongue and can fly out in a state of crisis, or in much less dramatic times. For others the word is bitch, for me it's fat bitch. Sike. It's more like Fatty Magoo, Fatty Lumpkins, Chubby Twochin, etc. And, well she started it! I was waiting for her to call me a fag, sissy, cum guzzling bottom, anything! But she didn't. She went to her gays, who were themselves fat and so clearly didn't want me to unleash on them. Sticks and stones break bones, but words will deter a gay.

Ultimately, I tracked her down and apologized. I really did not mean it. I am not a mean person like that. I always view my role as one of balancing when it comes to my nannies. When they are in a place of stregnth and are looking fierce and alladat I call them fat and baldheaded. Why, you might ask? To keep them motivated! We wouldn't them to get to cocky and slip up, now would we? Similarly, when my nannies are down I remind them how gorgeous they are, mainly because they are, but also because I am a good friend and I want my friends to be happy. The world is tough enough as it is.

Me and Fatty Magoo hugged it out and all was good. I complimented her black dress (to encourage her to wear slimming things of course) and she said I reminded her of her hot friend. If my nanny card weren't already full I would have taken her on. However, I won't have an opening until the 20th when one of my main nannies goes abroad.

I still feel awful, but I think we all learned a valuable lesson. Really, the fatty gay is to blame here. He clearly has not trained his hag. I am sure to train my nannies before taking them to a gay bar. For instance, they must know that they can't act like they would in a straight bar. Straight girls love to pick fights in straight bars because straight men won't hit them. Niether will a gay, but they will pick apart the outfit, makeup, hair, and attractivesness, so be careful. I also tell my nannies not to ever get too attached to any gay at any bar. I don't care if he dances well, says he's bi, flatters you till you faint...he's gay and there's nothing you can do about it. These are but 2 valuable lessons of many.

So happy to be back guys!

KelleBelle goes to Church

2008-09-21T16:44:00.000-07:00

Picture it: KB struts in 30 minutes late (I got lost...perhaps on purpose subconsciously) in sky high black platform heels, black tights, black and tan wrap dress, black scarf, and black trench. Did I mention my Jackie O shades? Check.

Clearly this is not my mama's church. Honey, the First AME church in Los Angeles is fierce! I sometimes have to remind myself I am not at the Ebony fashion show when I walk into the church lobby.

Apparently the dress code is not universal. For those just tuning in, KB relocated to Seattle. Quite different in terms of style than LA or the east coast...Um, peeps looked at me and my pumps this morning like I was the pastor's scorned mistress arriving late to my bastard child's communion. Or something like that.

Meanwhile, I went to church today to make my mom (and God) happy, and mission accomplished. Well, at least in terms of moms, who literaly squealed with religious glee when I gave her the scoop. I also met a lovely young lady who was happy to be my Seattle tour guide (and give me all the church gossip one could handle). Although I'm not sure she and I are on the same page in terms of our social itinerary...I shall indulge her excitement to show me around.

Perhaps I was meant to go to this church so I can now really appreciate the fabulousness of my mom's church in LA. The sermons are great there, and I dug today's sermon as well. But something about professional level choirs, state of the art visual and audio systems, random dance performances and celebrity guest stars, and all sorts of personalities and energy make the "word" that more enlivening...

Tune in next week when KB goes to Synagogue! You know I can't ignore my other half. :)

Mazel Tov and Stay Blessed!

-KB

Where in the world are Jake & Kelly?

2008-09-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

I'll let Jake answer for himself. But as for Miss Kelly, she done left Cali and went north, way north! No, not Canada. America Jr. is not ready for The Belle.

KB moved to Seattle and is somebody's VP. Work!

A few observations about the "Emerald City":

Caffeine is the drug of choice.

An obvious attribute of the home of Starbucks but y'all have no idea just how deep the caffeine scene is here. Not only are there Starbucks everywhere (and I mean everywhere - I bet they have them in church lobbies...maybe if I take a break from being a heathen one of these days I can confirm that hunch) but they have all sorts of independent drive-thru espresso joints, hooter-esque coffee shops ("Bikini Coffee" - where the Barristas wear skimpy lil outfits while serving up the Joe), and check it - at McDonalds, they don't just serve coffee - an entire side of the menu board is dedicated to your coffee options. That's deep.

The caffeine craze is incredibly engrained in the culture. For example, I have noticed either Starbucks or RockStar energy drinks sponsors every event - be it a festival, a concert, a political rally, a charity event, a bar-mitzvah (jokes), anything. And there is an unspoken rule that once people arrive to work there is to be no work done until you have had your coffee. It's just understood. I love it here!

It's a gold diggers paradise.

Due to Microsoft Money, there are oodles of folks up here with so much money they don't know what to do with it. I have seen more than a handful of scruffy looking 40 something dudes get out of their lambos in Crocs and ripped jeans.

It doesn't rain everyday.

Yes, I know it's not winter. But everyone scared the bejebus out of KelleBelle about the rain when she first told folks of her impending move. It has rained maybe twice in a month...and honestly, after surviving 3 Boston and Philly winters a piece, I think I'll be aiight. =) And when it does rain...it's just an excuse for me to buy super cute rain boots and matching umbrella. Yum!

I am getting into the swing of things so I will be blogging more often. Sorry for the absence, but I've kinda been doing big things. ;) I haven't even had time to watch my beloved TV or make it to the theater (movie). I hear there's some broad on the GOP ticket? Shut the F up! :P

Love you, mean it!

What's in Your NQ???

2008-08-15T13:59:00.000-07:00

So, I love Netflix. And who doesn't? I was mad late to the Netflix party because it all seemed complicated. It invloved mailing stuff and I thought I would need stamps and I never have stamps and I thought it involved deadlines and I hate deadlines. I just knew it would be a hassle, but turns out it is as easy as the viennese waltz. And, I am getting so good at it. I keep a revolving door of movies in my apartment. I can't manage to do anything else, but I watch my movies and promptly send it back and then in 2 days I get another movie. It is literally mind boggling to me, but I am a simple man.

But, here is the problem. I have pretty awful taste in movies and am generally really bad about looking up movies and reviews of the movies and reading comments, etc. I just read the description and if I like it I queue that badboy up. I probably immediately return about 1 in 5 movies after 10 seconds in the DVD player. That's not an awful percentage, but sometimes disappointing. My ex-biff (tears) would huff and puff and cuss me out for getting movies without reading reviews. However, since he's gone now I have gone caaraaazy with the Netflix picks.

What's on my NQ (Netflix Queue)? It's a list befitting of a 20 something living in Chelsea New York: pretty much all gay movies. For some reason, I am so into gay cinema. Okay, so maybe the reason is obvious, but it is still a bit extreme. I think I am just amazed at how many gay movies there are out there. How come they don't have commercials? I thought the only gay movie ever made was Brokeback Mountain, but turns out there were plenty before and after it. With a gay movie you are guaranteed some good drama and a good and nasty sex scene. Sometimes, even two or three.

But, you know you have bad taste when Netflix recommendations say the following: customer average (rating): 2.3; our best guess for you: 4.5!!! Hey, I am no movie snob!

Anywho, here's a taste of the type of movies I have watched recently:

The Mudge Boy:

Duncan (Emile Hirsch) is a 14-year-old boy who's always been labeled the "weird" one. When Duncan's mother unexpectedly dies, he takes a bizarre interest in her clothing and starts to speak in her voice. His father (Richard Jenkins) doesn't understand his son's conduct, and all the kids poke fun at him. When Duncan befriends a group of older boys by buying them beer, he discovers that one of them, Perry (Tom Guiry), has dark secrets of his own.

This one wasn't bad. It was actually pretty good and I totally recommend it. Weird though.

Get Real:

Steven (Ben Silverstone) is an average student at his middle-class high school, but he's harboring a big secret: He's gay. His only confidant is best friend Linda (Charlotte Brittain) … that is, until he meets John (Brad Gorton), the school's star jock who's seemingly straight and dating a model. The boys stumble through an awkward affair that sends Steven spinning and has John more confused than ever. Based on a play by Patrick Wilde.

I really liked this one too. Not bad.

Gone But Not Forgotten:

Drew (Aaron Orr) is a forest ranger who meets yuppie Mark (Matthew Montgomery) after he falls while rock climbing. Mark wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and sees that Drew has remained by his side since the accident. Drew offers to move in with Mark to help him out until he regains his memory, which propels the two men into a passionate affair. But things start to change as Mark's memory slowly returns. …

Immediately returned it.

A Home at the End of the World:

Pulitzer Prize-winning author (for The Hours) Michael Cunningham's earlier novel about a troika of close friends who enter into an unconventional living arrangement gets deft treatment. Boyhood pals Bobby (Colin Farrell) and Jonathan (Dallas Roberts) both love the same woman (Robin Wright Penn), but in different ways (Jonathan is gay). Undaunted, they all try to make a life together -- and even have a baby -- in 1980s New York.

Helloooo, it has Colin Farrel. A legit actor in a gay movie = good sign.

The 24th Day

Tom (Scott Speedman, from TV's "Felicity") has just found out that he's HIV-positive. A married man who's been living the "straight" life, Tom had sex once, years earlier, with a man named Dan (James Marsden), and now he's on a mission to find him. His plan: kidnap Dan, take a blood sample and see if it comes back positive; if so, he'll kill him. The stage is set for a supreme battle of wills in this drama based on Tony Piccirillo's play.

I super double heart this one.

And next on my NQ???

Eating out 2: Sloppy Seconds

After breaking up with his boyfriend, rebounding college student Kyle (Jim Verraros) turns his attention to Troy, a handsome male model in his art class. Farm boy Troy claims to be straight, but an unconvinced Kyle decides to take him to a campus support group for "reformed" gays to find out the truth. Kyle's silly attempts to prove that Troy is gay lead to a series of confusing hookups and farcical situations.

Can't wait. This is going to be either really good or really bad. Although, it is a sequel...I'll let you know.

What's in your NQ?

KelleBelle Goes for the Gold!

2008-08-13T11:05:00.000-07:00

My competition? Scoop! Olympic Style.

There have been a few note-worthy happenings over in Beijing.

1. "The little singing girl must be flawless."

Hats off to the Chinese powers-that-be for subbing a cuter girl to lip synch over a buck toothed child. I don't really see what's the big hub bub. I completely co-sign. Image is everything!

Real talk: that's pretty foul of them to do to the little girl. But she will grow up, move, and make tons of dough singing and producing. The cutey will lose her appeal by age 20.

2. The Spaniards bite the hand that feeds (and hosts) them.

"An advertisement for the Spanish Basketball Federation that appeared in the Spanish daily sports newspaper Marca featured Spain's 15 national team members in uniform pulling back the skin on their eyelids, with smiles on their faces. The team photo was taken at a center court bearing a dragon logo. " (ABC.com)

Not only are they pissing off their Olympic host country, they may need a new supplier of kicks. Li-Ning is the Chinese footwear company sometimes called “the Nike of China,” and is one of the team's biggest sponsors.

3. I told you we can swim!

The U.S. men's 4x100-meter freestyle relay team won Olympic gold...with the help of a black guy! Yes! Cullen Jones is the first African American to participate in an Olympic swim relay final and the second to win gold. Woot!

Random Thoughts with KelleBelle

2008-08-10T00:27:00.000-07:00

Did you ever notice...

...that when people on TV and in movies carry groceries it's always a large brown paper bag with some sort of green leaf lettuce and a baguette sticking out? My bag never looks like that. Swap a bottle of vodka for the the bread and a fashion magazine for the lettuce and you'll be close.

...the brides and grooms featured in Jet's wedding announcement section are always graduates of the most far out hbcu ever? Ex: "The groom, a graduate of southeastern missouri of south carolina technical A&G state university said 'I Do' to his bride, a cum laude graduate of east west southern state university orangeburg campus, at Tabernacle Baptist Holy Christ Church in Fayetteville, NC. The couple will honeymoon in Raleigh."*

..how some people are up in arms about a makeup company engaging in the routine practice of (gasp!) altering the image of one of its slangers to comform to the european standard of beauty to which they cater to; but are cool with a white actor literally in black face for an upcoming big budget movie? I'm not co-signing either move. Although, I can't wait to see the flick! But in protest, I'll cop it on the bootleg tip.

Once again, thanks for indulging my random, somewhat shallow, thoughts.

KelleBelle

*I'm not only going to hell for that one, but I'll surely be traded to the J's in the next race draft. Ah well. It was only a matter of time...

KelleBelle Pulls a Judy Winslow on Your Asses

2008-08-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

Sorry to simply ignore the sudden absence of my weekly review of "I Love Money." But I lost all motivation to write recaps of the show. It just didn't seem worthy of a KB review. The show was trashy and I'd much rather have my friends read my review than waste time on actually watching it. But it was so bad and more importantly, boring, that it was really not worth it for me to watch and write about.

I am opening the floor to suggestions for a new show to review. Or any other ideas...

-KB