Gala Glam!

I have certainly suffered a “go-all-out-glam” hiatus as of late; I’m talking big hair, bold colors, elegant materials and opulent accessories.  But thanks to a good cause and some good girlfriends, I once again have a reason to give the world FACE tonight!

In all seriousness though, tonight’s event is a scholarship gala benefiting minority women pursuing higher education in the areas of Mass Communication and Journalism, so how could I not be excited about such a worthy cause?  The photo ops, runway strut and one-night glamification of this regular homebody are just icing on the cake!

Now, if I could just get this smokey-eye together (maybe if I end up not looking like a raccoon, I’ll post pics).

Pray Saints!

Move Your Body…To Combat Childhood Obesity

Gas prices are high, people are defaulting on their home loans, the cost of food is through the roof and the nation is suffering through a belt-tightening recession.  Even our children are feeling the pinch of these difficult economic times. Teachers are being laid off, schools are closing, and those that are fortunate enough to stay open lack essential funding to keep critical music, physical education and academic programs in place.

Enter Beyonce.

No, she did not donate 2/3rds of her wealth to the U.S. Department of Education, but she has utilized her talents to endorse a cause that she seems to be very passionate about. Teaming up with First Lady Michelle Obama in support of her Let’s Move Campaign, Mrs. Carter remade her 2007 hit single, “Get Me Bodied” with an even more energetic, kid-friendly flare.

The self-deprecating humor in her failure to distinguish between left and right, the obligatory flag waving and her batty-riders notwithstanding (hey, I couldn’t wear mine in high school, she shouldn’t be able to wear hers either), I found the “Move Your Body” song and video to be incredibly cute and to have the making of an amazingly vigorous 4 minute workout for kids and adults alike.

Take a peek at Bey and her body-rocking teens (most notably the little fella on the right with the fitted white cap *classic*) to see what I mean!

Let’s UnPack: Hot Topics for the Week of 4/27/11

I swear! I know I haven’t posted much about politics and social goings-on lately on the blog, but this week’s news has already been like something out of the twilight zone.  Embolden (wanna be) politicos, self-absorbed royals and Celeb-reality star’s old habits dying hard have all made for a truly exasperating last couple of days in America!

The Obama Birth Certificate and Subsequent Trump Touting

After an entire political campaign shrouded in faux controversy and speculation, and for almost three years thereafter, today the White House released President Obama’s long form birth certificate for all the world to see.  The document confirms that Barack Obama was born in Honolulu, Hawaii on August 4, 1961 to an American mother and Kenyan father.  Not that this fact was disputed by the millions of lucid and coherent citizens of this country, but in what appears to have been an effort to appease the crazies, the POTUS attempted to put the whole birther (non) scandal to rest.

Calling the utter buffoonery surrounding the origins of his birth “a distraction”, and expressing that he was bemused and even puzzled over the fascination with his birth certificate, President Obama said he released the long-form version in order to help get the nation’s attention back on the “enormous challenges” facing the country.

Not to be outdone, The Hairpiece Donald; recent spokesman and inciter of all things anti-Obama and anti-intelligent decided to hold a press conference today after The President’s long form birth certificate was disclosed to take credit for forcing Obama’s hand. Trump spoke specifically about how proud and honored he was for getting Obama to do what no one else had been able to.

“I have done a great service to the American people…He did it for me — the fact is, I get things done.”

C’mon, really?  Donald Trump taking credit for the POTUS deciding to divulge his birth certificate is like him taking credit for growing that follicley-challenged headdress atop his dome that he has tried to convince America is his hair for the past decade. Please dude; save the bravado for Gary Busey (and the release of those tax returns)!

In other Obama-disrespecting News…

Conservative political commentator and syndicated blow-hard Pat Buchanan was on Hardball with Chris Matthews Tuesday night to pontificate about the President’s success being a result of Affirmative Action.  While he didn’t go the Donald Chump route in seeking to qualify the president’s background (His Royal Comb-overness believes that along with the birth certificate, Obama’s grades and transcripts from Occidental College should be released), Buchanan does believe that President Obama had some kind of help with his post-graduate admissions:

“I think he’s affirmative action all the way.  He’s an African-American kid at a time when everybody’s saying bring those guys in, give them an advantage, move them ahead… I know how I got into Columbia. You can take a look at any of his [records], let’s take a look if he’s got all these great grades and wrote these great articles. Let’s see the magnificent work he did to achieve the greatness he achieved… it’s about whether he benefited from affirmative action. Is that an illegitimate question?”

Yes sir, it is.  Especially since your presumption is that because he was an African-American kid (and let me just say, I was quite surprised that Buchanan utilized that politically correct descriptor in his conversation with Matthews…wait, he did say “those guys”…never mind) applying for Columbia and Harvard, that he didn’t do so on the grounds of his own merit and accomplishments.

But hey, I’m sure Pat exerted this same amount of effort in determining how qualified Dub-yah was during his Skull and Bones days and later for the role of Leader of the Free World during his presidency, too.

The British Are Coming

Whether it’s been radio updates, news briefs or various social media countdowns, it seems that the world is captivated by the impending nuptials of Prince William and Kate Middleton this coming weekend.  I even read an article about how even after the years of dating and finally the engagement of William and Kate, Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip only recently met Kate’s parents (like, last week recently).  And yes, while I would find it a little odd for the family of any couple about to get married to just be meeting only days before their wedding, can I just say…when will we GET OVER IT!?  I ask this especially of the salivating American media and public (yep, looking at you E! Network).  Maybe I’m just hating because after the extravagance of Diana’s wedding, no other British nuptials will ever be able to grasp and keep my attention at 3 in the morning again (sorry Fergie).

But really, for as excited as we Yankees seem to be, does anyone remember the risks our founding fathers took and the sacrifices they made to abscond under the cover of darkness to get out from under the thumb of the monarchy? Humph, throw in a chariot, some ladies in waiting, 1,500 yards of tulle and a diamond encrusted tiara and all is forgotten, huh?

Hide Ya Bong, Hide Ya Roach (Clip) and Hide Ya Rolling Papers Cause They Arresting Every Body Out Here!

Just when I thought Antoine was going to take his 50% Bed Intruder iTunes earnings, open up his very own House of Hair and live happily ever after, obviously I was wrong.   Mr. Autotune was arrested in Alabama this past weekend for marijuana possession, as well as charges for speeding and failing to have insurance.

Wait, what? He was driving a Mercedes? Uninsured?

See, this is exactly why iCan’t!

What latest media broadcasts, newsflashes or updates have gotten on your nerves thus far this week?

She’s Baaaaack: Serena (Cat)suits Up…Again

Well, it’s actually more “Pink Panther” than “Cat Woman” this go round, but in true Williams fashion (no pun intended), Serena has taken to the courts again after a brief hiatus, and this time has done so in all her Pepto Bismol finery.

Apparently, not even a blood clot could hamper the competitiveness (or apparently the fashion) of Serena Williams.  A little more than a month since the tennis phenom was sidelined with a pulmonary embolism, had to undergo emergency treatment and her return to tennis was projected at being at least a year away, Serena was recently spotted a couple of weeks ago looking healthy and getting her serve on in what could only be described as slinky pink long johns.

And, while I am not a fan of the Aneres Fashion Line (Serena spelled backwards…no, seriously), I must admit that I admire the fact the instead of rebelling by marching to the beat of a different drummer, Serena goes as far as to perform her own grandiose drum solo when it comes to her confidence and her clothing.  I mean really, it takes a special (and very self-assured) person to come out of the house looking as if she’s been slathered in Bubble Yum from head to toe, on purpose.

But to each his her own, right?

Personally, as much as I can do without seeing Serena and Venus’ peekaboo, skintight and barely there get-ups at just about every USTA Pro-Circuit event, I am not mad at the way that they’ve spat in the eye of convention; shaking up the old “gentlewomen’s” sport of Women’s Tennis as we’ve known it in favor of a more intense, empowering and entertaining experience for those of us who love the game and also for those who may have otherwise been disinterested in the sport had the braided, beaded and bedazzled glamazons not shown up on the scene.

Still, call it what you will, but with a fashion line almost a decade old, a highly sought after beau, a new video game…oh yeah, and like a gabillion Grand Slam Championships under her belt, the hit and miss fashionista is clearly doing something right!  And if the outfit is any indicator, it seems as if Serena is back to her old self.  I just hope she gets back to focusing on her game and quits trying to one-up her 2002 U.S. Open…ahem…ensemble, because at the rate she’s going, she’s clearly not going to be satisfied until she puts someone’s eye out!

Spring Break Headache!

I don’t think that there is anything in this world more dejecting than waking up to a debilitating migraine and deciding to take a “mental health day” from work to nurse the throbbing and aching, only to realize that upon climbing back into bed, one’s children are in RARE form!

Yesterday as I was walking out the door to head to work, I was blindsided by what we’ve all come to know as one of my infamous little brain-aches.  After sitting for a spell and waiting for the nauseous and dizzying effects to wear off, I decided to take my hind parts to bed and let my co-workers and subordinates miss me for a day.

Too bad that just as I was getting reacquainted with my soothing and pacifying pillow-top, all hell broke loose in the form of adolescent, pre-teen and toddler foolery.  Yelling about being sat next to and touched, desiring French Toast instead of frozen waffles, wanting to play the PS3 as opposed to watching Dora The Explorer, requiring help with the construction of the Entrepreneurial Icee Stand on the front lawn, not wanting to take a bath; you name it, they were claiming it!  And then, in what would have been hilarious parental fashion had it not been so loud, annoying and in total contradiction with the ambiance I was trying to create for my frazzled nerves, the honey shouted for the kids to stop being so discourteous, raucous and wild when they knew I was in bed suffering through another migraine!

Yep, that’s what I get; I knew I should have just taken 600 mg of ibuprofen and trudged on through my day, but no, I just had to tempt fate.  Surprisingly though, I’m not even mad because clearly this was all a learning experience for me:

1.  There is plenty of space beneath my desk at work to assembly a comfortable palette and I always get into work earlier enough to go unseen by my colleagues.
2. Next Spring Break, I will be breaking as well…at least two time zones away from my rowdy offspring!

The Devil Is Black? AND He Makes Cakes?

You can always count on the innocent inquiry of a child to hem you up, leave you utterly dumbfounded or make you rethink your position on an otherwise trivial matter.  That’s what happened to me this afternoon while The Babychild was playing Pastry Chef’s Apprentice to me in the kitchen.

With my kids officially ripping and running all over creation thanks to the annual free-for-all that is Spring Break, the rules in the Pack Household have become a little more lax (well, at least for the next five days).  Once such rule that is receiving a brief moratorium is the one referring to no sweets on weekdays.  Sympathizing with their sugar-deprived angst, I decided that I was going to bake them a “just because” cake today to enjoy during their vacation.  And seeing me getting my bake on, The Babychild decided that he just had to be all up in the batter as my helper and unofficial taste-tester.

That was, until he realized what I was making.  After adding, mixing and pouring my velvety cake ingredients into my baking pan, The Babychild eagerly awaited the spoon, bowl and mixer tong to lick.  It was evident that he clearly had no problem with the taste of the rich, dark concoction, and he happily let me know it.  When he asked me what kind of cake I was baking and I absently told him Devil’s Food Cake, things quickly changed.

“Mom-ma, the devil makes cakes and he is black like us!?”

Stricken…Panicked…Exasperated; adjectives that don’t even hold a candle to the look that was in that little boy’s face or the trepidation in his voice.  In my mind, all I could hear were damage control sirens shrieking and my inner voice screaming “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!”

How in the world was I going to explain to my toddler that although I’d often wondered what 18^th century European “genius” decided to associate “deviled” foods with “black”, and even rolled my eyes a time or two at my local grocer for aligning their Angel’s Food Cake mix on one shelf and their Devil’s Food Cake mix on a lower one, that there was no legitimate association between the naughty entity he had come to know as the devil and people of color.

Again, the expression on my child’s face let me know that he was extremely troubled by this potential discovery, so I had to forego the backstory altogether and simply explain to him that for years and years and years, that had been the name for the super chocolatey confection in our oven, and that the devil has never had anything to do with baked goods.  Pondering that for a moment, The Babychild laughed and told me how silly it all was, then proceeded to lick his sticky fingers.

WHEW! Mini-Crisis averted!

Still…a smoldering side-eye at Betty Crocker, Duncan Hines and those first culinary experts who caused my kid to fret over a deviled dessert!

WWYD?!?!

With as much boob-tubery as I’ve filled my spare time with lately, I honestly began to give serious thought to discontinuing my cable service.  That was, until I sat a few nights ago and was absorbed into Oprah’s world of wonder and whimsy (as is often the case when it comes to OWN).

For a welcome change from the regular buffoonery and tripe being filtered through our televisions, The Mighty O took a page from the ABC hit primetime news show “20/20” and developed an entire show around their popular segment What Would You Do?

In What Would You Do: Own Edition, the network revisits old episodes of the popular “20/20” social experiment where faux scenarios based loosely on real-life news headlines are executed with actors and hidden cameras around unassuming bystanders and passersby in hopes that the good in humanity will somehow prevail over prejudice, ignorance and fear.  And while humanity itself was definitely questioned when viewing some of the results of these forged situations, there were certainly a few instances where my faith in the inherently honorable nature of mankind was restored.  But none of the reactions however, were more admirable than the tear jerking compassion displayed by the unlikely angelic spirit of an unassuming woman by the name of Linda Hamilton.

Would your response have been the same?

Distracted.Dot.Com: The Braxton Five

So, I was productively bogging and minding my own business when, SNATCH!  Howard’s finest and her baby siblings commandeered my television and my attention!

And from Trina’s first (of many) alcoholic swigs to Tamar’s continual sentence enhancing dot.com’s and dot.org’s (ex: “He betta get it together dot.com!”), I knew that this would be a reality train wreck that I’d need deliverance from, and that I would shamefacedly love and loathe with identical ardor.

Productivity: 0

Braxtons: 5

Sometimes There Is Just No Accounting for Taste

Really?

I stumbled upon this gem while surfing the World Wide Web last night and I’ve gotta say, some people’s idea of humor can easily be equated to the contents of a septic tank.  I mean, forgive me for being a Debbie Downer and all, but I fail to see the humor in lampooning the bottled water penchant of the “haves” by merchandizing a faux infusion of disease-riddled swill for the sake of a laugh; the same swill that in real life, kills hundreds of thousands of the “have nots” every year.

And while admittedly ingenious and complex as I imagine this whole charade was to execute, if we as global citizens would be just as equally creative and resourceful in our efforts to combat these preventable diseases through clean water initiatives, it would certainly be a small step toward making this world a better place…and be far more worthy of a web page than this buffoonery.

 

Thursday Night Decompressing: Pedicures and Randomness

It seems like every couple of weeks, I am posting about what a frenetic workday I’ve had, or how desperately I need a timeout or a mental health day.  With today being no exception, by 3 o’clock, I had already decided that a mini spa night was in my future as soon as I got home. But while I sit here soaking my toesies in a jetted, bubbly basin, all I seem able to think about are some of the seriously arbitrary reflections that have made up my week thus far.

And yes (you guessed it), instead of paying some glorified people whisperer to help me purge, I’ll simply do so here:

1. When I’m already doing 75 mph in a 65 mph zone, why in theee heck would the dude behind me blow past, only to get in front of me then throttle down to 60?
2. Can Kevin Hart technically be classified as a dwarf?
3. Hey Black Man in the interracial relationship; stop looking warily at me as you and your wife walk by.  I’m concerned with my own United Colors of Benetton Family to be worried about yours!
4. Poptarts are the devil.
5. Whose idea was it to A) create the Ford Thunderbird? B) design its interior with burnt sienna dashboards, ceilings, seats and carpeting?
6. Papa San is an utter fool for penning “Maddy Maddy Cry” and staying in character for the entire 3:23 of the song.
7. “I know you are getting ready to leave…” naw chief. I’ve been in the office since 8am.  Anything you didn’t think to address or get out of me before 6pm will have to wait until tomorrow.
8. Didn’t we determine after “Forever” that even under multiple aliases, Sean Combs not be allowed to release any music where he is doing any of the rapping or singing?
9. How is it that my cellphone is roaming when I am sitting in my own house?
10. Where has Amel Larrieux been?
11. I’m pretty sure that nowhere in the job description for Leader of The Free World does “ask for permission” appear.