New Year, Same Resolution

It's been a year since I've written here, but not a year since I've thought about writing. After the Newtown shooting, I thought I may need to take a break, but then each news story ended up being a mass shooting, a school shooting, a double homicide, a triple... A celebrity drug overdose, a celebrity suicide, nothing, not even politics gave me the inspiration I was looking for, longing for. And then again, maybe I just got lazy.

But I'm back.

I promised I wouldn't let 2014 roll in without logging in and testing out the old fingertips. Yep, still working, laptop is a year older, but it's still kicking. And I am still here. I never went anywhere. I write something new every day in my head. I yell at talk radio and shake my fist at the news. I shake my head at the ignorance of the world and I cry when innocent people die.

Around and around this world goes, we have no choice but to hang on for the ride. if we choose otherwise, we are defeating the purpose of habitation upon this Earth.

See you next year!
(Just a few more hours from now)

May 2014 be everything you anted 2013 to be and then some! :)

Newtown: Reflections and Thoughts

No words I could ever write could do justice in paying tribute to the lives lost on December 14, 2012 in Newtown, CT. Rest in Peace: Nancy, Charlotte, Daniel, Rachel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Dawn, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Anne, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Lauren, Mary, Victoria, Benjamin, Allison

 
We were running late that day and I'll never forget. I trusted him to grab his hat and jacket and his  backpack hung over the side of the kitchen chair. I reached for the keys, my 2 year old and the kitchen door all at once. A clock was ticking in my head. I just wanted to get to the bus stop on time. And we did. What a relief to see all the scarf-wrapped parents and their bundled up kids who blew cold smoke from their mouths at each other, never keeping still, while piping in and out of the chatter that rivaled the songs of the early morning birds above them. And just as I saw the bus approaching, I called out to him to make sure his jacket was zipped up and to grab his back pack, it was time to go. But he forgot his book bag. He looked at me just as disappointed as I was. We had worked so hard on his homework the night before, I told him. And I reminded him before we left out the door. He needed to pay better attention to Mommy, I scolded him. I led him to the line filled with his friends and classmates and patted him on the head. The day almost started without a hitch, but at least we weren't late. I told him to have a good day and always listen to his teacher. The same words I've recited every day since the beginning of every school year. I told him I loved him. I got back in my car and headed back home. My first grader was safe and exactly where he was supposed to be. Then a few short hours later, I learned that 20 children were dead. Shot to death. Murdered in their classrooms in an elementary school in Newtown. My neighbour called and asked if I had heard, but I was busy doing housework and didn't even have the television on. She raced over and we sat and watched and we shook our heads. The details were sketchy at first and later we found that the media had reported a few things that were inaccurate, like the shooter's name, his age, they even said his mother was a teacher at the school. The one thing they had right was that 20 children, 20 first graders were dead. All I wanted to do was run to my first grader, pick him up from school. Maybe he wasn't safe, maybe he wasn't right where he was supposed to be.

But if a 6 or 7 year old child isn't supposed to be in school on a Friday morning in December, where is he supposed to be?  The hours passed and soon so did the days. There were now pictures of these babies, gorgeous and happy, we could see them all and visualize what they were like in life, all the while knowing the horror of how they died. There were the brave stories of their teachers and principal who died trying to protect them. Our hearts as a nation are broken. Those classrooms were my son's classroom. Those teachers were my son's teacher. When I look at those faces, I see my own 6 year old. I see his school class picture and they all look the same. They are 6 and 7 years old. There are no hard lines of a wrinkled, tired face. No signs of struggle or knowledge of the world as a dangerous place. Just toothless smiles and fantastic dreams. Innocence to the nth power. Angels on earth.

Of course gun laws need to be passed, and any pro-gun, NRA card carrying extremist that can't admit that isn't worth debating with. Of course we need to look into mental health and the way the system is failing some of our sickest individuals. Even President Obama said when describing the worst day in his presidency, that there isn't any one answer. But this land is a place where mass shootings occur. A place where the mall, the movie theater, the buildings where we work, and the institutions where our most precious little lives are being groomed and graded, our schools, are simply not safe. Any gunman on a suicidal mission, with a grudge or a vendetta, a history of mental illness or an obsession with guns and violence can just start shooting and we are left to ask why while we deal with the carnage after he kills dozens of people and then himself. He leaves us with no answers, attending funerals, and losing grasp of the most important issues so we can argue about the ones that will get us nowhere.

Put a metal detector at the door of every school, I say. Pat down every visitor. Whoever doesn't like it, don't try to go to any American school. While some people in this country fight for their 2nd amendment rights to carry a weapon, you're missing the point. No one wants to take away your guns, we just want evil people with guns to stop taking away our children.

Unbelievable Tragedy

The details are still so unclear, and I feel bad for this family, I really do, but some things are worth talking about, even if it's prematurely. I just want to dig a little deeper, as I'm sure the police are doing as we speak. The most I know is this: a woman suspects there is someone breaking into her home, or at least attempting to. She doesn't call 911, she calls her brother who lives next door. He shows up with a gun, confronts the "intruder" who allegedly brandishes a knife towards the man. The man feels threatened and shoots, multiple times, killing the would-be burglar only to find out this criminal, this home invader was his own adopted son. What? How did this happen and why?

This took place at 1:30 in the morning. Why didn't Dad know his son was out of the house? And why was the son allegedly trying to break into his own aunt's house? According to police reports he was dressed in all black and even donned a ski mask at the time of his death. Shot several times, including once in the head, the boy lay dead in the driveway, his identity unknown until the ski mask was removed . It was only then that his father realized what he had done. He had killed his own son. I wonder if the police were called before this man pulled his trigger. Were they en route? I can't stop asking myself how. How did this happen? What a horrible way to lose a son. At 15 years old, even if he was troubled (not saying that he was), he still had plenty of life to live and get it right.

Should his father be charged? Or is living with the fact that he took the life of one of his own punishment enough for the rest of his life?

At this time, no charges have been filed.

Standing My Ground on Trayvon

Trayvon Martin didn't have to die. That's what makes his case that much harder to discuss and debate every day. From the very beginning I have tried everything to take race out of the equation because to me, George Zimmerman's race did not (and still does not) matter. He's white, he's Spanish, he's half and half, who cares? He's a man with a gun who shot and killed a teenager who he thought looked suspicious. He is a wanna be cop, a little boy trapped in a 28 year old's body, playing cops and robbers on a rainy night in Sanford. He wasn't going to let this "a**hole" get away. It matters not if Trayvon was 5 foot 3 or 6 foot 7. He is dead for no reason and Florida's self defense law does NOT apply in this case. We need to stop all the extra rhetoric and focus on the injustice at the heart of this case. Zimmerman should be arrested and prove his story in a court of law. Let a jury decide if he in fact was in fear for his life and was justified in pulling that trigger. (I can't imagine too many people equating fists to the bullets in a gun.) As one legal expert stated on CNN, "you have to match deadly force with deadly force". So if Trayvon got fed up with Zimmerman following him as he walked home with his Skittles and iced tea, and he turned around and argued with him, eventually punching him and getting the upper hand on him; does Zimmerman have a right to match his punches with a bullet to the chest? Probably not. Most likely not. Absolutely not! But this is what needs to be debated, everything else is a distraction from what Trayvon's parents and the memory of their son deserves. Arrest Zimmerman now. The foundation is set, the world is watching and we will not look away for a moment.

The Way I Feel About Whitney

What do I say about Whitney? Twitter bullies might suggest that none of us thought twice about her until it was announced that she passed away. How unfair and positively untrue! I often find myself trying to imagine what it must be like to be rich, famous and incredibly talented. Being that I am only one of those things, it's a fantasy I play out in my head (mostly when I'm watching MTV Cribs or an episode of Behind the Music.) Believe it or not, I sometimes add in one more element to the dream; what if I were rich, famous, incredibly talented and an addict? Because if at this income level I can afford to buy a bottle of wine at least once a week and a couple shots at the bar to celebrate anything and everything (Superbowl Sunday, Happy Hump Day, I woke up this morning, etc.), would I become an alcoholic if I had millions at my fingertips and my minions at my feet to supply all that I demand? I would imagine that someone who dabbles in recreational drug use might upgrade their status based on their financial ability. Whitney told Oprah she'd been experimenting since before "The Bodyguard", and her habit grew stronger right after the film's release. One has to wonder if the wild success of "I Will Always Love You" had anything to do with that. So we have the riches, the infamy, the talent, the addiction and let's add one more ingredient to this recipe for self-destruction: pressure to out-do perfection. Some people might drop everything and hop a plane to Africa to meditate, others might start smoking cocaine-laced marijuana.

Whitney Houston was America's sweetheart, the ultimate diva, the brightest star of her day, the tragic stereotype, and the tabloids' mistress. See, around here we dispose of you when we're done with you or in some cases, when you run around acting like you're done with yourself. And around here, we then hoist your corpse on the pedestal that you fell off of in the end. No, I can't tell you the first time I heard Whitney Houston sing, or what my favourite song of hers is. And the reason for that is simple. In my life, Whitney Houston always was and always will be. Every song she recorded was her best song. I can't tell you much about 1991, but I remember the Star Spangled Banner. Let me tell you something, Whitney Houston's talent is a reason to believe in God, otherwise we all would be able to sing effortlessly and reign over our crafts supremely. And Whitney Houston's talent proves further that God is real, because without Him there would be no devil to recognize her weaknesses, tempt her and twist her, and take her away. May she rest in peace.

End Scene!

Teen Mom is one of many shows on television that should have been a one season experiment, a documentary-style look into the lives of young mothers and their triumphs and struggles as they raise their babies over the first year of their life. And then the people at MTV should have moved on and explored another subject, (similar to their True Life series). Watching some of these girls self destruct for the whole world to see is starting to feel disturbing and just plain wrong. I know it's been a bevvy of controversy since the day it first aired, but back then I saw the vision and understood there could be a need for this type of content to air; a young girl out there might learn from it, another might make a choice to never be in these girls' positions, it could have even acted as a guide to parents bringing up an often ignored and uncomfortable topic. But what started off as 16 and Pregnant and has now blossomed into Teen Mom has become a misrepresentation of what the real world is all about. The focus has become less on pregnancy prevention and the importance of finishing school and more about the dysfunction and what I think are unrealistic examples of what the life of a teen mother may become. It seems every time these girls snap their fingers, they're driving a new car, renting a new house, and starting a new job. God knows life just ain't that easy. While it may have been a good idea to use this show to deter young impressionable women from having sex and making poor choices, it's becoming apparent that the folks at MTV have gone down the same path that leads to the Real World and Jersey Shore (without the red cups and distasteful sex scenes). But as with any series that may make you shake your head and pray for our future, there will be a lot more where it came from as long as we the people keep watching. Carry on, MTV...

We Just Mobbin' Like That

The Mob Wives are back for a second season and they've promised more fights and more drama than the season before and the premiere episode delivered just that. If you've been following Renee on Twitter, than you know she's has been tweeting over the off-season about getting her face peeled, her body lifted, and all kinds of other various plastic surgeries. So there was no surprise when she was laying in a hospital bed after getting fat taken from here and putting it where? Back there. After sitting up too swiftly, she tore the stitches in her back and lost so much blood, she needed a transfusion. As a result, Renee ended up laying on her ass instead of getting a bigger one. Drita is taking boxing lessons to deal with her aggression and ward off any temptation to put someone in the hospital. Karen is still harboring feelings about the fight on the rooftop with Drita and last but not least, we have Carla. Carla's storyline at this point, is so low key and non-existent, I don't really have much more to say besides, she's still being filmed for the show.

The current trend with a few of our favourite reality shows is adding new characters either at the beginning of the season or somewhere in the middle. You blink your eyes and there's a new drama queen swooping down upon the city like a well-scripted, intentionally planted natural disaster. Mob Wives' latest addition is Ramona Rizzo, aka Karen's play cousin. This girl is nothing but trouble as she helps to cultivate the hatred and animosity Karen is feeling toward Drita. And when Renee has a "Celebration of Life" party after healing from her surgical scare, Ramona is the one who turns up the heat when Drita and Karen decide to try to talk things over outside (on the balcony of all places). It was Ramona who spoke up in opposition to the impromptu meeting on the balcony, before Karen could even accept or reject it. It was Ramona who jumped in between the two women and starting waving her hands around, bringing up her personal problems with Drita which had nothing to do with the conversation Karen and Drita were having. I'm not condoning violence, but I can see why Drita felt backed into a corner and ultimately decided to throw the first blow.

In any event, although I'm still a fan of the show and what it could possibly bring to the world of reality television, the way all of these women acted at Renee's party was shocking and immature and probably just a preview of what we should expect throughout the rest of the season.

See No More Evil

Jaycee Duggard, kidnapped, raped, abused and held captive for 18 years, only to return to her family who never lost hope. A full grown woman, a mother, a child who never grew up but was subject to such grown up things. Stephanie Mack, wife to Bernie Madoff's son, Mark, who after all the press and pressure of being the prodigy of the most hated man in America, committed suicide while his young son slept in the next room, leaving his wife to forever live in the menacing shadows of hatred and the inability to forgive. Diena Thompson, mother of Somer Thompson, the Florida girl who at age 7 was snatched while walking home from school, then sexually assaulted and dumped in a landfill like trash. These are the women Americas needs to hear from and should give a voice to. These are true victims who have a story to tell, who may change the world one person at a time, who can possibly prevent children from being kidnapped or murdered. They deserve a platform, an opportunity to say whatever is on their minds. They are the ones who should be given laptops and cameras to record their thoughts and then publish them to the masses.

And then there's Casey Anthony. It's been six months since the young Florida mother has been acquitted of killing her daughter, Caylee, a case and trial we have all come to know in one way or another. After being virtually unseen and unheard since her infamous exoneration, videos and photos are beginning to surface and circulate showing Casey Anthony with a new look and uplifted spirits. She is beaming about acquiring new electronics and elated to finally have something of her own. She talks of her future and the prospect of better days to come. And the media goes insane. They have a field day with the footage. They want to analyze where she was broadcasting from, her lawyers are back on TV, and the trial of the decade has come back to the forefront. According to Ms. Anthony's lawyers, they have no idea how the "video diary" became available and are speculating that her brand new laptop was somehow hacked and the footage leaked to the public against her will. Whether she was hacked, and her personal diaries leaked, whether she posted the video herself, it could all be a conspiracy to get her in line for an interview, a book deal, or a movie even. I don't like it and I wonder when the rest of the world is going to open their eyes and realize that her time should be up. A woman who, although she is free and under the law can never again be prosecuted for killing her child, obviously had something to do with it. She hid Caylee from her parents, she partied and got tattooed, she dodged everyone's questions about where her little girl was, and the common theme throughout it all: she lied! And she never stopped lying. She lied even when there was no reason to and then she lied some more. Why would anyone want to hear anything this mythomaniac has to say?

Let her release a million videos, we should all turn our heads and cork our ears. Even those who are the least bit interested in what she has to say should know that they will never get the truth, therefore, listening in on her "private" thoughts would be for naught! She fabricated the events surrounding the death of her 2 year old daughter, that's where my arousal rests. The networks should run as fast as they possibly can in the other direction and focus on women who have positive, constructive stories to tell, triumphant women who fight for freedom and for the truth. That way, Miss Casey Anthony will no longer be able to lie to the world, the only one left to listen and be amused then, would be no one but herself.

No Black and Blue? We Don't Believe You!

The current theme of the last couple of weeks of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has been Taylor and Russell Armstrong's marriage and Camille's outburst regarding the now deceased Russell's abuse of his wife. During an intense confrontation at what was supposed to be a dainty get together for a spot of tea, the women decided they didn't believe Taylor's off-camera confessions to them that she was in an abusive marriage. They were confused by the fact that Taylor still made appearances with her husband and continued to stay with him while accusing him of doing her bodily harm. These women, who are all grown and, I would like to think, educated should know better than that. There are plenty of women who are in disastrous relationships who dote on their spouses and still smile at every event, entering the scene hand-in-hand and blowing kisses for public view. These are the same women who when asked, "Why did you stay with him?" are quick to answer as the tears stream from their blackened eyes, "Because I loved him!" For Kyle to say she doesn't know what to believe because she's never seen bruises is such an ignorant statement. It may be that Kyle has no experience with such an extreme and dire situation, but she must know that if a woman is being beaten by her husband, when it's time to hit the streets, she's not going to rock her black and blue contusions along with her Louboutins and Louis Vuitton handbag. She's going to hide the signs of abuse and try her best to cope by smiling through the pain. Or maybe she may not leave the house at all, until she's healed and doesn't have to make excuses about any clues to the domestic violence. So to say, "Until I see it, I don't know what to believe" is such an unsympathetic statement. What kind of friend would second guess or question such an admittance? And what friend actually wants to see the smoke before they believe there is a fire? The other recurring theme has been the Housewives saying over and over that Camille was just repeating what Taylor secretly told all the women over time when she blurted out that Russell was hitting Taylor. The only difference here is, Taylor made her confession off camera, outside of the viewers' sight. Until Russell committed suicide over the summer, we would have never known he broke her jaw or that he slammed her around. Camille was wrong to say such things out in the open and in front of the Bravo cameras. It was off-topic at the time anyway and it did indeed put Taylor in a dangerous situation with Russell. Some may say that by Camille opening that door, Taylor was able to see her husband for what he was and gain the strength to leave him, but the filming of this show and the secrets it was going to reveal could have also led a man to take his own life.

New Year, New You?

Happy new year, Readers! I would like to extend a heartfelt thanks and much appreciation for logging in and reading along. It's 2012, and some people think we only have 11 months left to live, so we better get cracking. And for those of you who are pressuring yourselves with New Year's resolutions; stop it. If something about you needs to be fixed on January 1, it probably needed some fixing long before this holiday. Spend all 365 days of the year self-analyzing and critiquing your motives and actions. Negativity can be changed and bad habits can be dropped any day of the year, so be good to yourselves and don't rush into anything you may not be able to handle because failure could potentially bring you down more so than the problem that you were resolving to fix. Now let's get back to reality!

xoxo,
UGoddess

No Love And No Apologies

The producers of Love and Hip Hop better find newer and more worthwhile subject matter for our ladies because 'Mob Wives' is coming back to us on New Year's Day, and I think I've pretty much got Chrissy and her crew all summed up for the rest of the season. Jim Jones' mother, Nancy, is rocking her "Psychotic B!#@h" t-shirts every where she goes. I'm not going to knock her drive to turn a vulgar insult into a money-making marketing gimmick. (If Evelyn can do it on the back of Tami Roman's pain, then hey -- why not?) Meanwhile Olivia's storyline remains the same, the only thing that changes is her atmosphere. She's cried in the car, she's cried in a restaurant, she's cried in the opening segment, she's cried as the credits rolled at the end of the show. This week, we can find both Olivia and her "super-producer", Rich, crying on a foot bridge. It's ironic to me that she is on a reality television show, and yet has no sense of reality. The state of the music industry has changed so much, even since the days of her limited stardom. No one wants to be told to let go of their dream, but her trying to be an A-List singer is like Kimbella trying to get an apology from Chrissy for smashing her in the face with her fist... it's not going to happen! Meanwhile, everyone wants an apology from Chrissy this week, it seems. Kimbella tries and fails (hey Chrissy, whining never gets anyone very far with me either). Then you have Yandi, who I must say is turning out to be one the more annoying characters on the show, pressing Chrissy for an apology for her sour attitude towards her and the work she does for Chrissy's husb--, I mean, baby dadd--, I mean boyfriend, Jimmie. Yandi is shot down also, but Chrissy agrees to treat her a little more nicely. Emily beams proudly as she dishes to the girls that ever since she moved out, her ex-man, Fab, has been a knight in shining armour, the man of her dreams. She's thirty years old and acts like a teenager getting attention from a boy for the first time: "he likes me, he really likes me!" Note to Emily: he's keeping you at bay for his personal benefit, my dear, and you are doing nothing but settling for less. Somaya was a no-show for this episode, but Tierra Marie seems to be a mainstay. Next week, we're being introduced to yet another model (and her breasts). I'm starting to ask myself, in which direction is this show really trying to go? Where is the love, where is the hip hop? Then I realized, with the introduction of all these new characters (wild, so-called models whose only storyline consists of who they slept with or who they fought with), VH1 must obviously asking itself the exact the same thing.

The Beauty and The Beast

First of all, shame on MTV for continuing to film Jenelle Evans and her mother screaming, cussing and fighting week after week. Whatever the reason may be, there is no excuse for it to take place in the presence of Jenelle's son, Jace. Jenelle risks being kicked out of her mother's house to be with her boyfriend, Kiefer. She clings to him so tightly as if she feels he is the only one who makes her feel loved or wanted. Of course, she could have that same feeling from her baby, but that is not the same as love from a man who wants and needs you and can also lay up and get high with you as well. Jace has his grandmother, she is his primary care taker, so Jenelle turns to Kiefer to fill the empty void. In this episode, Jenelle and Kiefer are sleeping in her car, homeless and hopeless, you can almost smell them through the TV screen. I respect Jenelle for putting her foot down with Kiefer when it comes to his drinking. She doesn't like it, it brings her back to a bad place with a former boyfriend and Kiefer should understand that and change some of his ways. But being that he is drinking Bacardi straight out of the bottle, this may be a problem that Jenelle can't fix on her own. She becomes enraged, she throws punches at him, she hurls random objects from her friend's car at him as well. She lunges at him and attacks him, but being that he is bigger and stronger, he merely restrains her and fends her off easily. He picks her up and shoves her into the car, slamming the door. He then tried to console her, holding her and trying to calm her down but she starts shrieking and yelling for him to get off of her. Insert MTV's infamous PSA here: "If you know anyone who is a victim of domestic violence..." Next week Jenelle is seen trying to press charges against Kiefer for the incident, but her local police department needs to roll back the videotape and take a good look at who hit who first. Kiefer never hit Jenelle, he did the best he could to hold her back and get her off of him without hurting her and that was under the influence of alcohol. What makes girls like Jenelle and Teen Mom 1 star, Amber, think they can throw blows at their boyfriends' and get away with it? If anyone was a victim of domestic violence in this situation, it was actually Kiefer.

19 Kids and Filming

Only in America can one woman be vilified, written off, and scorned for having 8 babies at once, while one mother is lifted up, complimented and given a reality show for popping out 19 kids year after year, even when her health and the lives of her children are obviously at stake. OctoMom can barely pay her mortgage, but the world is obsessed with a woman named Kate and her brood of eight.  We want to know her latest hairstyle and who her ex-husband is dating. (And she didn't even have all eight of her kids at once.) I don't know what it took for TLC to finally cancel her show, but it wasn't too much longer after that when she did an interview saying she didn't know how she would pay her bills. Hey, Kate, try giving Nadya Suleman a call, you guys have a lot in common. But back to Michelle Duggar, of '19 Kids and Counting' fame. Her last pregnancy resulted in a premature birth, and most recently, after announcing she was pregnant once again, she miscarried at 19 weeks. As sad as that news may be, it will be turned into a great opportunity for the producers to film the loss and then use it in their season premier advertising. Michelle Duggar is 45 years old and claims she will have as many babies as God allows. But don't bring God into this. If you're not using any birth control, and your body is able, you will get pregnant. You will get pregnant 19 times and have 19 babies, and you will get your own reality TV show as a reward for doing God's bidding, I guess. A miscarriage has to be one of the most tragic and terrifying things a woman can experience, and for that , my thoughts go out to the Duggar family. I am not in judgment of their marriage or their faith, but they chose to film their lives for the world to see and shove their story in my face as they appear on the covers of magazines and news interviews. Michelle Duggar is well aware that every time she gets pregnant, she's preserving her brand. Should the nation now turn its back on her for breeding "unnecessarily", expanding her family at any cost? Should we shake our fingers and our heads at her for having so many babies, as we have the OctoMom? Remember this: "How dare she have so many children when she had eight already? when she can't even afford it?" Should we now ask, how dare Michelle Duggar continue to have children when she has 19 already and is almost 50 years of age? Now don't you tell me it's none of my business. It must be my business, otherwise Michelle Duggar wouldn't be releasing statements to the press and giving me all the details. (Funeral information and the baby's name will be announced in the near future. Stay tuned.)

The Prop and the Propaganda

After multiple allegations of sexual harassment, improper conduct and a 13 year affair, popular Republican front-runner for president Herman Cain has suspended his campaign. Raise your hand if you're surprised, I certainly am not. Don't get me wrong, I never saw the list of women coming forward once a week telling their tales of thigh rubbing and hotel hopping, (like soft-porn for cable news) I did, however, see Herman Cain going away just as quickly as he emerged. He was soaring above the rest, Mitt Romney and the bunch, and the media almost nearly crowned him king. They did all but mention the black-on-black factor, but it was looming on the tips of their tongues. Obama versus Cain, how delicious would that have been? There were Republicans from every corner who came out to support him and his "9-9-9" plan for our economic future. Could it be that he was their "One"? The other side's "Messiah", perhaps? It mattered not that he had no thoughts on foreign policy or that his tax proposal was starting to be picked apart by the naysayers. It was a plus that he was fresh faced and far from the usual shadiness of serial politicians whose names and faces some of us have grown to become sick of. He was a smart, well spoken, self-made black man and he was coming for Barry. He was confident and daring, a super power in his own right and without a lick of world knowledge or a spot of political experience, he would rule the free world. Enter the small gang of women that Tiger Woods would merely scoff at. They came, they saw, they conquered. They said he groped them, accosted them and used his powerful position to provoke them. The latest accuser said, although she knew he was married and that she was in the wrong, she carried on a lengthy affair with him (and has the phone records and text messages to prove it.) She would be the nail to seal Herman Cain's coffin. It was just a few days later when he "suspended his campaign", never admitting to anything, but stating that the allegations were too much of a burden on his family. I have to wonder why a man would try to run for president knowing there was a possibility these things would happen. Did he forget that he touched a thigh back in the days once or twice? Did it slip his mind that he had been making phone calls and exchanging text messages with a mistress for more than a decade? I almost want to think that maybe these things are not true, otherwise why would a man subject himself, his wife, or his family to this unforgiving onslaught? It would take a confident and daring man, a super power in his own right, would it not? But alas, I get to lick my chops no more, Herman Cain is gone now and Newt Gingrich has taken the lead. We can all return to our regularly scheduled programming.

The Ring Didn't Mean a Thing

I remember when Kim Kardashian tweeted something like, "I'm finally complete, I found the one!" And I thought, that's not good -- her thinking that she needed a man to complete her. I also remember her publicly admitting that as her 30th birthday was fast approaching, she was reminded of the dream she had as a child that she would be a wife and mother by the time she reached that age. Red flag, red flag, may day, may day! How did no one see these warning signs? A televised fairytale wedding, a reported 17 million dollars, and 72 days later, Kim wants a divorce from Kris Humphries, but anyone who watched the episodes leading up to the nuptials should have seen it coming. This is why I have to wonder how Kim herself did not. When you don't appreciate or respect the place where your man hails from, when he basically tells you that your career is a joke and you don't really "work". When your family has to force a smile whenever the idea of the two of you manifests, whether in conversation or in the physical. When you yourself have to a force a smile after awhile... need I go on? And now Kim is crying to her fans and her mother is pleading to the media, begging us to believe that her family is going through a crisis. Yes, it must be so hard on all of them. (Insert sarcastic face here.) I don't blame the critics who've rallied for Kim to donate her money and gifts to charity. It's laughable that the Kardashians want me to believe that she didn't make a dime off of that wedding and that she actually paid for it herself, as if I'm not smart enough to know that when you film a reality television series -- no matter how much money you have -- the majority of the pretty, shiny things we see have been donated for product recognition. Her marriage may not have been a sham, but her reason for wanting to tie the knot and then film it for us all to see is insult enough. In summation, we need not complain when they air the 2-part Kardashian divorce special, the show must go on after all, and it will... as long as we keep wanting to keep up with them.

Fighting for Love and Hip Hop

The lovers of hip hop's leading men took center stage and tried hard not to disappoint. Jim Jones' wonderwoman, Chrissy, is still childless and ringless but not hopeless or down and out. Ousted singer Olivia is looking low as she searches for a record label to believe in her. Emily finally found the "strength" to leave a one-sided relationship, and rapper Somaya is fiesty and fuming, trying to light the same fire since last season left her with no spark. Enter Yandi, Jim Jones' manager and Kimbella, "woman of Juelz Santana", if you let her tell it, and we have the very first episode for season 2 of Love and Hip Hop. I have to admit I can't get Jim Jones' mother's song out of my head. Nancy Jones penned the catchy single, "Psychotic B*tch" in response to Chrissy's description of her last season. The beat makes you bounce and the lyrics are hilarious. Chrissy and Jimmy were not too pleased to find the recording on the internet, but I can't stop singing it and think it could be a hit. Yandi inches her way into the ladies' circle by inviting Chrissy to her product launch. Chrissy brings Em and Liv and they all get to meet Kimbella for the first time. She was dressed in a pair of exaggerated booty shorts (the kind where you can actually see the booty) and you can't blame Chrissy and the girls for not being too impressed. Even though Kimbella seems proud to claim Juelz as her man and the father of her child, it was at this time that she shares a secret with Yandi: she dated Emily's now ex, Fabolous, just three short years ago.(Side note: Emily and Fab's son is just three years old.) Later in the week, Emily has a get together to celebrate her new found freedom, and all cast members are in tow. As they raise their glasses to the start of a new life, Kimbella decides this would be the best opportunity for her to confess her past with Fab to Emily in front of everyone, claiming she would rather she found out from her than from anybody else. Emily is clearly pretending to be at peace with the news and just as she was about to toast to letting go and moving on, Chrissy blows up and let's it be known that what Kimbella had said and done was inappropriate and down right mean. (And I agree.) For those of you Basketball Wives fans, can we say Evelyn and Tami? Things get heated and Chrissy ends up attacking Kimbella throwing blows like a champ and rocking the hotel suite. So you see dear, sweet, pretty Kimbella, your looks might hold some weight when you're tanning on the beach in Miami, but they won't get you anywhere when you get off the sand and swim in a sea of New York City sharks. I'm not condoning violence, but I'm definitely not feeling the whole "I dated your man and I'm telling you because I love you" thing either. And if someone could please explain to some of these chicks that "dating" is dinner and movies and not hotel rooms and bottles of Ciroc. See you next week.

Touch Me, Teach Me?

Had Glee asked me if I wanted them to provide my children with a teachable moment about losing their virginity in high school, I would have politely said thanks, but no thanks. Of course,  no such question is ever asked as sex and more sex is constantly crammed into the minds of young America and parents are left scrambling to find something "decent" on TV for their kids to watch before the wee hour of 9:00 pm. This is not MTV's 16 and Pregnant, this is not VH1's "Rock of Love", these characters on Glee are merely social outcasts or popular kids, choir junkies or super-jocks singing their way through four years of high school. You expect to see bedroom scenes on these types of programs, knowing they will  leave nothing to the imagination. Most wouldn't allow their pre-teen to get comfy on the couch and settle in for a Jersey Shore marathon, but Glee? It's hard enough to find a sitcom series on the Disney Channel that doesn't make me cringe, et tu, Glee? The creators of the popular program boasted about the "teachable moment" which featured two teen couples --one gay and one straight -- having sex for the first time. Talk about a double whammy. Now some parent out there has to figure out how to explain pre-marital sex and homosexuality all in one night. Thank you, Glee. That is, thanks, but no thanks. It's my job to teach my children about the pressures of high school and sexual preparedness. Why can't I, for just one night a week, turn on the television and not be confronted with frivolous fornication and instead get lost in an old Madonna throwback or a Lady Gaga remake? And for those who see this from the other side and want to reply by saying, "If you don't like it, turn off the TV." Don't you worry, I already have.

It's My Party!

Nazis, Socialists, Communists, oh my! It seems if you're not right, you're not right -- depending on who you're talking to. When the Tea Party Movement emerged, they were either hailed as revolutionaries and trendsetters or bitter and racist. So it's no surprise that the Occupy Wall Street gang has come under fire by their conservative resistance. Billing them as urine soaked, out of control hippies, living in tents and getting arrested; the Wall Street sit ins could end up losing its message, even though according to the opposite side, they didn't have one to begin with. When the Tea Partiers wave their flags and stage their protests, they are upstanding citizens, lovers of the free world and small business, fighting against big government and battling to protect the founding father's America. Enter Wall Street Occupiers and they are all unemployed bums looking for a hand out, pressing the president for a come up, belligerent and nasty, with no purpose or cause. So why can't both groups stand up for what they believe in and be right in their resolve? Isn't that what they both are sort of fighting for anyway? For their whining, demanding voices to be heard? Instead, when they get a platform, they use it to point fingers and spread this contagion of divisiveness. Once again, I have to dig into my bag of cliches: "if you're not part of the solution"... eh, you know the rest. So before I pitch my tent in the liberal field of freebies or suit up with the "righties" looking down my nose at those who are not with me; I'll stand where I am, in the middle, where I can see both sides clearly. I'm not in any position to be swung or swayed.

Tribute to MJ

Maya Angelou said, "We had him" and it's true. For the past half century, we had him, we just didn't hold on. Until now, there were no street-side kiosks selling his youthful image on t-shirts. There were no hour-long specials on prime time documenting his artistic prowess, his distinctive look (albeit ever-changing) and his unbelievable movement through dance.

We're happy to say now that he, a Black man, was the best to ever do it. Spike Lee even said, "He belonged to us" at a memorial at the Apollo theater. If he did in fact belong to us though, did we claim him? Did we embrace and support him when he was mocked and branded "Wacko Jacko" and holed up in Neverland? Did we believe him when he said he would never and could never harm a child? Or did we simply trade in "white Michael" for the countless acts that came after him, who in hindsight could never and will never replace him?

As yet another medley of songs from the Jackson 5 and beyond plays symphonies in my head, I realize I know every lyric or at least can hum along with the bass line even though some of these masterpieces were written before I was born. How many artists can take credit that kind of inter-generational reign? Timeless, boundless music fills me; but those notes, pitch-perfect and pure, must share a space with the sadness of losing one of the greatest ever. And now my "man in the mirror" is ashamed and guilty of taking it all for granted.

So many have tried to cloud his talent with the details and inefficient facts of his 1993 settlement with a young boy's family or his 2005 child molestation trial where he was ultimately found not guilty. Now as the media outlets play past interviews with the tragic star, I hear him explain that he settled in order to avoid a lengthy trial and all that would have come along with one, and it sounds believable. It makes sense.

While to some, for the past 15 years, he became a pervert and a pedophile, now in death, he is a mastermind and a genius. He is "our" star and we want him back.

But we let him down. We forgot that it matters not how much you tell someone you love them once they have departed this life. It's how you treat them and what you tell them while they are here, alive, and moonwalking on the Earth.

Teresa Against the World

The Real Housewives of New Jersey reunion aired last night, did you watch it? If not, let me introduce you to Teresa Giudice, or shall I say the new Danielle Staub? It was a little difficult to see Caroline, Melissa and Kathy all take turns at trying to take Teresa down. And how painful was it to sit through Andy asking her all that personal information about her financial status and bankruptcy fraud allegations? (Or maybe some of you enjoyed the naughty little peek into her pocketbook.) Bravo kept us in the dark as to why Jacquelin wasn't there, it was on of those "you're gonna have to wait and see" moments. Since they are all in the midst of filming Season 4, the women were unable to give us the gossip, we know for sure, however, that the drama this time is centered around Teresa. So she wrote a few things in her cook book in order to turn a profit, the woman owes $10 million dollars and can't pull it out of her big Jersey hair. What really intrigued me was Caroline's demeanor. She has always been billed as the strong, maternal, mature one; the matriarch. But like Teresa once said, "She's not the matriarch of MY family." I'm not falling for Caroline's holier than thou approach. She's no better than the rest of them, and now that she is not too happy with Teresa, she seems to want to air out any and everything she may have said to her in confidence when they were friends. That's high school behaviour at its best. If I come to you to vent a little bit about my family, I don't expect you to go back and tell them every little thing I said when you get mad at me. That wasn't fair and it sure doesn't make me respect her. Melissa sat on that couch trying her best to appear somewhat intelligent and presentable, but I see right through her as well, and don't think she is either innocent or genuine. I guess you can tell that I am "Team Teresa". I don't think she deserved to be gang up on and abused by her cast mates for little or no apparent reason. She held her own for the most part and I hope she continues to be strong and fight for her family, those four girls are really what's most important. Friends are fickle, in-laws can be fake and family, well... you can't pick them, so the only thing you can do is pray no one flips a table at the next holiday gathering.