Hey there, Black woman. Since the media refuses to allow you to live your life without picking at your emotional scars and waving a spinster flag in your face every other internet post, let’s revel in our society-induced anger and focus on an all too important part of our lives – cosmetics.
1. Nothing says “f**k you, pay me” like a bold eyeliner. While you’re out being totally unapproachable (you know, sitting at a party, smiling, making eye contact, wearing appropriate-length attire, sans desperation, being normal), line those lids with Tarte’s…whoops, you blinked and that potential suitor has been snatched up by a woman exhibiting all of the behaviors your mother warned you about. Better luck next time. That product was Tarte’s Indelible Wink Liquid Liner. Continue reading
‘This is too ironic for it to be a coincidence,’ I thought as I flipped through my camera phone and stopped at a picture of myself…and Amber Rose. Yes, Kanye’s former flame pursed her lips as her publicist immortalized our meeting. The irony comes into play as we rewind just a few hours prior to ATL’s La Bella Vie boutique. In my customary writer’s pose, I stood with my blackberry shoved in the face of author Helena Andrews. She’s the irresistibly witty D.C. writer who just recently released her first memoir, Bitch Is the New Black.
It was like I took a trip to bizarro world (See: Seinfeld). Did I really just interview what I would consider to be the oil and water of Black femininity? One famous for being smart. One famous for being sexy. To each interview I brought my pre-conceived notions. Some good. Most expected. Continue reading
Today’s emoticon: Chillin…
I’d love to claim that I’m completely right-brain functioning – you know, one of those dreamy artists living in this laid back, hippie world. I’m not. I analyze everything.
This whole era of social media doesn’t help, either. Between Twitter, Facebook and Skype, I get physically sick to my stomach being inundated with the opinions of people with whom which I don’t have real relationships. Everyone is a virtual therapist, preacher, teacher, sexpert, life coach and motivational speaker. In reality, everyone is just narcissistic. Including myself at times. I think we’ve all fallen victim to this idea that in order to be living a successful life, you should be “on the clock” at all times. Daydreaming is a sin. Taking a break is grounds for castration. Dare I even utter the word sleep and one of @iamdiddy ‘s Twitter minions will surely come after me. Continue reading
Today’s emoticon: *Side Eye*
A friend and I were having this convo yesterday. I was discussing an issue I was having with a guy. Not quite a romantic issue, but parked somewhere closed to that area. I’ll skip all of the banter and just get to the good stuff:
Me: It’s just funny because I feel like I’ve always been the chick that men like to have these intellectual convos with, but not necessarily date. Almost like…I’m their ‘Intellectual girlfriend’. Some of the guys are in a relationship.
Friend: I’m the chick that’s normally in the relationship, but can’t get my man to have those convos with me because he saves those for you.
I started to think about it for a moment. I suppose that I would define this idea (just an idea, guys) of the ‘Intellectual Girlfriend’ as this: the woman that a man calls just for stimulating conversation. He doesn’t necessarily have any desire to date you. You just generally provide good advice and intriguing concepts. Note: This should not be confused with your great male friends, of which, I have many. This is that one guy that after you hang up the phone, or finish sending that last text, you think, ‘Um, I feel a little used and a tad bit drained.’ Continue reading
Today’s emoticon: “Over It”
Articles like “Are Those Extra Pounds Hurting Your Dating Life?” really piss me off. Not because there’s no truth to the idea, but because they are ALWAYS directed towards women. This is an article currently posted on Essence.com. It details how the extra pounds that we (African-American women) tend to carry are further hurting our chances of finding love. Because the entire population of African-American men is comprised of Tyrese and Will Smith clones, right? I already know what you’re thinking? “She must be fat, which is why she’s decided to get on her Crisco covered soapbox.” Continue reading
Today’s emoticon – “Mercy & Merlot”…Because sometimes you need a little of both.
In the words of Chrisette…”And then it comes to me, like an epiphany”…
Don’t you just love those “a-ha” moments that come along and knock you on your arse at the exact, appropriate moment. Normally, those “a-ha” moments aren’t “a-ha” at all. You’ve known this seemingly new jewel of information all along. You just repressed it to suit the moment. Kind of like when you figured out that eating healthy might actually be a good idea. Broccoli’s always been nutritious, you just wanted that beef meximelt from Taco Bell at 2:35am. It is what it is, people. Continue reading
This week’s emoticon – Kimmy’s gone Euro (My stylist and I actually renamed ‘Euro’…’Brazilian’ …It has more of an ethnic edge to it.
Here’s how were gonna start this off. Stop, I repeat, stop, trying to hook up your Christian friends by using the old, tired ‘He’s Christian….and he’s saving himself’ bit. Don’t get me wrong, these are both wonderful attributes that I would love for my husband to have (Well…Christian is absolutely mandatory), however, give me the common courtesy that you would give a so-called ‘regular’ person. Continue reading
Chrisette Michele tweeted last week about the grand opening of CamiCakes cupcakes here in ATL. I desired to know more of this new Buckhead treasure. So, upon driving around the city looking for a new Panera to go and write, I spotted the cutest little pink (I actually hate pink) sign. Oh, yes… I’ve decided to work at every Panera bread in the city of ATL. Such interesting characters frequent Panera, and the bums sitting outside are not as aggressive as they are downtown.
Anyway, I walked in and my eyes immediately went to the never ending rows of cupcakes. I imagine that this is what heaven will feel like…’Kim, you’ll be seated next to Taye Diggs a la “Dre” from Brown Sugar…Oh, and yes, the cupcakes are complimentary.’ Continue reading
I’m going to start including these retarded pictures to accompany my blogs. Today’s emoticon is: confused.
Let me start off by saying…Kimmy is not cut out for love. (As you can see from the pic above. Yes, I referred to myself as Kimmy. Due to the recent influx of folks calling me Kimmy, I’ve decided to accept it. But, Kimmy is a bad girl. She eats cookies in grocery stores without paying for them. Her hair is Wednesday black and ferociously wild. She is indeed bad. Re-define Kimmy.) Anywho, I am not cut out for this whole love thing that the motion picture folks and Sandra Bullock are so dead set on shoving down our throats.
I found a guy. Excuse me, he found me. Not a perfect guy, but a sweet, attractive fellow that liked (well, he still does so I guess I shouldn’t use the past tense form of the word)….um, likes me. Remember when I told you guys that I was going to ‘experiment’ and actually accept the advances of a man? Well, I cleverly hid my fangs and went with the flow. It was fun, I’ll admit. I was even able to get past the fact that he’s never seen The Color Purple. His blackness is definitely still under investigation, though. Celie is a household name, negro. *sigh* I digress. Continue reading
I’m just going to jump back and in and not even address the fact that in the time since I’ve last written anything on this blog, my hair has grown three inches. I’m back blog world. Did you miss me? A little? I’ll take that.
I’ve posed a simple question and the answer is…they don’t. I’ve recently come to learn the hard fact that cynics don’t fall in love. At some point, we are forced to unthaw our cold, icy hearts and go through the semi-painful process known as “getting to know someone.” Cynics are asked to be slightly vulnerable and share hopes and fears that they’d much rather keep hidden behind their mighty shield of sarcasm.
Example A – “Some days I just want to jump in the deep end, and other days I’m afraid to dip my foot in the shallow part!” This is what I blurted out over the phone to him in reference to my feelings now and days. Apparently “falling in like” is a bipolaric (yes, I made this word up) wrestling match between your heart and your mind. Continue reading