Twenty-Fine!

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

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

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,

KB

Kawfee Tawk with your host KB

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

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

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?

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

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

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)?!

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,

KB