Thinking On An Anonymous Comment

When I first began this blog, no one commented on anything I wrote. Or rather, no one except spam commenters . Thank goodness that eventually changed because I love reading your comments. And the longer I blog the more grateful I am for the honesty with which you choose to share what you do. I will admit though that sometimes it's hard to quickly respond to comments in as meaningful a way as I want.

I wrote on Friday about my struggles with anger management (and the out of control dog), and one of you, Anonymous, really got me thinking with this comment:

"Can you aid me with some anger management issues that I have? I live in England, UK, and I am really angry that the USA is still in the dark ages regarding racial discrimination. The recent Sean Bell incident with the police has exacerbated the downward spiral of my emotional well being. What do you suggest that I do? I feel hurt and insulted by the illegal legal process that you have in the USA, whatever happened to Glory, freedom and justice? Why is there so little international condemnation? How does the USA keep getting away with these crimes against humanity? Yet it has the gall to go to other countries and lecture them about their human rights atrocities! Its absurd and surreal, what drugs are your politicians on?

To add insult to injury they use Condoleeza Rice a black icon to deliver the GOOD news globally, she looks like an evil profit of doom cabbage patch caricature, with the subliminal message that black people are evil doers even when they get to positions of authority! Although, she is probably a lovely lady in real life, so no offense meant!

Please help me I am losing all faith in the USA, the New World Leaders. I feel like I am in a bad dream, trying to wake up but I cannot. Despite my misgivings about some aspects of American life I think that in a converse way that you are so fortunate to have the opportunities that you have. I love the average American person, they are so lovely and full of hope and faith,they demonstrate their affection unlike us English. Tonight I will pray for America and pray for world peace but Doctor Liz what would you recommend for me. You always shed light on socio economic and psycho spiritual factors!"

Anonymous, we seriously need to go grab a couple cups of chai and sit down for a long chat because you have me thinking about enough for a dozen blog posts. First, let me say that the Sean Bell verdict has me thinking about how tomorrow, April 29th, it'll be the 16th anniversary of the beginning of the LA Riots. I know most people don't think about the LA Riots too much anymore, even in Los Angeles. But I do because, well, I wonder what I'd do if something similar popped off in my neighborhood. Clearly, the conditions that created the riots definitely still exist, and not just at the intersection of Florence and Normandie where they began.

The official spark of the riots was, of course, the acquittal verdict for the police officers who beat Rodney King and got caught on camera. But that was merely a tipping point. They were unofficially begun by recession-induced high unemployment, racism, gang violence, failing schools and a lack of justice. Hmm... that sounds a bit like 2008 instead of 1992, doesn't it? And I'm sure all that could be said of your city in the UK as well, not just LA.

So now Al Sharpton and other activists are threatening to shut New York City down in protest of the acquittal of the officers that shot Sean Bell. I wonder if they will and I wonder what spin we'll see in the media as a result. I'll tell you, Al Sharpton doesn't have a ton of credibility with me. How about protest the everyday things that do so much destruction, things like crappy schools or living conditions in the Bronx. How about march every day over those injustices? So yeah, I'm a little skeptical about Sean Bell's death being used as a tool to possibly further personal ambitions.

I'm sure that the yuppies who've bought up the brownstones in Harlem are shaking in their boots today, scared that angry black folks are going to bust them upside the head with a brick, a la Reginald Denny. I hope they remember that it was a black man who risked his life to save Reginald Denny and that more black people died in the LA Riots than any other group of people. Besides, the new residents of Harlem could go out there and protest in solidarity with their black and brown brothers and sisters. They could also exercise their influence and demand a federal trial. They could remember you don't have to be black to demand justice for an injustice that was served against someone who's black.

As far as glory, freedom and justice? The nobility of those sentiments got corrupted the minute someone decided to drop some smallpox blankets on the native population that had helped them survive in the first place. You ask why we're still in the dark ages of racial discrimination. I think it's because we haven't really told the truth yet about the blood soaked roots of this country so we can't yet heal ourselves-- and when we do know the truth, we cling to mistrust and refuse to make things right. I mean, if I suddenly discover that my family stole your land a generation ago, then I have to decide what is the right thing to do. Do I keep the deed and say, "Too bad. That's life! Survival of the fittest!" Do I make my own family homeless by moving them off that land and giving it back to you? OR, do we work together to ensure that everybody has a home and has their basic human rights taken care of?

Our society is in a lot of pain and it's reflected on all levels. I'll be the first to admit that it's hard to not be demoralized, it's hard to not give up hope, and it's hard to know that we've all got to be somewhat depressed about everything that's going on. This weekend I felt so sad after reading this LA Times article about fear and depression among low-income high school students in LA. The conditions in their schools and neighborhoods are caused by institutional racism and unjust practices. There's going to be a point where those kids demand justice but when will that point come?

Why do things continue the way they are even though more and more people recognize that the way we've been operating on an individual, institutional and community level isn't working? Because even though over 80% of Americans think this country is on the wrong track, we've also allowed ourselves to be bought off. We've swallowed materialism as the driving force of our lives and it's hollowness is what echoes in our hearts. On a daily basis we think more about American Idol, what we're wearing to work and what we need to pick up at Wal-Mart than about what's really going on in our world or what's going on with our souls. It's easier that way. It's like the Matrix where the drama begins once you take the pill and see the world for what it really is.

Many of us want someone else to solve it. We want the American Congress to solve everything or we want Barack Obama to solve everything, and real change just doesn't work that way. Political leaders are drunk with the pursuit of power and are beholden to someone in some way, and that limits the extent to which they'll really demand change. Besides, I can't tell some "leader" to change everything while I go about my merry life and do whatever I want. Real change happens when we each individually bring ourselves to account and stand up and alter the way we behave.

I always ask people to look around at their circle of friends and ask if everyone looks the same or if there's a diversity of colors and cultures represented, are there people from various religious backgrounds, etc. And if there aren't, then why not? It's when we hold the people we're supposed to mistrust close to our hearts with genuine love -- that's when things change. When we stop shopping and start paying attention to what's happening to our brothers and sisters down the street, that's when things change.

That said, I don't think I have to be perfect to ask someone else to stop doing something wrong and I don't think the U.S. should just be mum about human rights violations in other parts of the world. We need to both correct our own failings and advocate for justice in other parts of the world.

I think we're starting to see more individual mobilization happen -- look at the power of bloggers to push information and demand change. The stories of Dunbar Village and the Jena Six would be dead if not for bloggers. And I remember when Barack Obama won the Mississippi primary. All the TV talking heads were all, "Well, he has a problem because he only got 40% of the white vote." Quite frankly, I never thought I'd see the day a black presidential candidate would get 4% of the white vote in Mississippi, let alone 40%. So you see, change is happening.

I really do think we're nearing the end of a period of profound misery for this nation and our world. The "end" might take several decades or several centuries. A halt to racism and injustice may not come in our lifetimes, but we are getting closer. And yes, I want it now. I don't want my sons growing up in a world that teaches them to be ashamed of their blackness and that they shouldn't do well in school or be well-mannered because they are black. I don't want anyone's kids growing up with that.

Anonymous, both of us have a responsibility to keep going and keep making sure we're doing the right things in our personal lives. It's a painful process but we're experiencing the destruction of an old way of living and being. The growing pains are necessary. Keep your head up and know that even though injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere, we are all in this together.

Anger Management

Sometimes I laugh inside when people tell me how easygoing and calm I am. After all, I'm the same person who once upon a time pushed both her brother and sister out windows.

Now granted, I was only eight or nine when the window situations happened, and there were definitely legitimate reasons for all that going down, but still, it's been a long hard road to learning how to deal with anger in a proper fashion. I'll never say I have "arrived" as far as that goes because sometimes things happen that let me know I'm not "there" yet as far as being a calm, rational person.

Last night my seven year-old, "O", had baseball practice at our neighborhood park. This week we also happen to be babysitting my friend's dog, Jelly, a half Chihuahua/half wiener dog, so of course, she came along too.

The stroll to the park was uneventful except for my four year-old, 'T", complaining about not getting to be on a baseball team too. We walked into the park gates and then headed along the running track toward the baseball fields in the back.

A blond in a hot pin track suit was coming toward us and she was struggling to control a gigantic dog that looked like a cross between a Rottweiler and a Pit Bull. We moved to the side to give them a wide berth to walk in. Unfortunately, she had one of those leashes that extends and this dog came barreling toward us.

My son, O, is pretty afraid of big dogs so of course he started screaming and my husband quickly tried to shoo this huge dog away. The dog wasn't going for my son though. It was going for Jelly. And I was holding Jelly's leash.

I'm pretty afraid of big dogs too since I was chased by a pack of wild dogs in China. I've just never gotten over it. And incidents like this don't help.

I picked up Jelly and this other dog starts growling and baring it's teeth at me. I remember loudly saying, "You need to control your dog," and pink track suit woman laughed and started up with the, "Honey, come over here!" mess.

Just when I thought this dog was going to bite me or Jelly, my husband grabbed it's leash and started pulling it away from us. I just kept my eyes on pink track suit and repeated in the most unfriendly tone ever, "You need to control your dog,"

What does she do? She says, "Gosh, he was just trying to sniff you. You need to calm down!"

So many thoughts ran through my mind, mainly that I wanted to punch her in the face, kick her teeth in and, well, just take her out. Calm down? Sure, I'll calm down after I, ahem, stomp your behind into the dust. You can't control your dog, it's behaving in a threatening manner to me and my children, my husband has restrain it --and instead of apologizing, you're rationalizing what happened, acting like it's no big deal and telling me to calm down?

My husband grabbed my arm and said, "Just walk away. Keep moving."

I ended up having to run for an hour after that because I was talking smack about how she better not bring her pink track suit behind back to the park ever again, and on and on -- gosh my legs really hurt today but I was running out my anger. Even after running for an hour, I was still pretty steamed over it.

That's how I know I still have issues with anger. Pink track suit was wrong to not control her dog, but I probably shouldn't have gotten that bent out of shape. I just don't know if I can ever get to the point where I am actually able to be not so angry over situations like that.

Tough Enough

I'm halfway through TV Turnoff Week and I'm still alive! In fact, the most TV Turnoff-resistant member of my family, my husband, has sort of gotten on board. In a show of solidarity, he's cut back significantly on his viewing, even while grumbling about it being the NBA playoffs.

How did this miracle happen? Well, it's a mystery to me because after Monday I didn't say anything else to him about the no TV thing. No evil looks. No self-righteous glances. I didn't even threaten to withhold sex or stop cooking dinner. Only the wives on the TV sitcoms I never watch do that sort of coercive crap, right?

While that's marinating in your mind, let me tell you how not watching TV is proving to be a lot easier than I thought it would be. Sure, some of it could be that I have the Internet as a backup form of entertainment, and where else but the Internet can I read insane stories that start off like this:

"Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men's penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft."

Uh huh. Not kidding. Penis theft panic hits city. Somebody make a sitcom out of that insanity instead of showing Seinfeld Friends Sex and the City Gossip Girl. I mean, do we really need yet another fantasy of life in New York City featuring nothing but white folks running around doing ignorant stuff (with nary a Boricua in sight)?

Yes, stepping away from the veil of cable news channels and reality TV has been good for my sanity. I mean, the Pennsylvania Primary was the other night and I didn't even get a headache because I wasn't listening to all the ridiculous commentary, half-truths, flat out lies and racist code language.

Speaking of racist code language, have you thought about why it is that Obama has to be the only black man in these 50 States, and however many U.S. Territories, that isn't "tough" enough? Strange as it sounds, the Congolese penis stealers/shrinkers got me thinking about how in our culture a man's penis size = masculinity = toughness. Why else would I get 200 "grow your penis 12 inches longer" emails every day?

That means the subliminal message is that a president needs a big penis (military aggression) in order to get the job done. But if I connect the dots, someone wants me to think Obama only possesses a small penis (words) and so he's not tough.

Should we attribute this small penis thing to the genes of his white mom? I mean, every other black man (with their ginormous penises) is sooo tough that folks are scared of them unless they speak really softly and do all the little things black men have to do to make sure their colleagues at work don't feel uncomfortable.

By the way, heaven forbid someone black gets accused of being militant at their job! That's the ultimate kiss of employment death -- which is tricky because if you're black, you can pretty much guarantee that someone at some point is going to try to discuss your company's diversity policy with you. They'll tell you it's to get feedback and see if the company's on the right track, but if you are stupid enough (or big penis tough enough?) to express that you don't think the diversity policy is adequate, well...

Anyway, right now, big penis militancy isn't the spin on Obama. The media sort of tried that, but it didn't quite work because Obama knows the "Must Not Make Uncomfortable" rules very well. He didn't bite the bait. That means that he gets sold as not "tough"and not "fully vetted" and he "can't close the deal", which is all secret code language for, "We're afraid of what that black man with his huge penis will do if elected."

When reporters ask him, "Senator Obama, what are your plans for your 100 days in office?" folks are really thinking Obama's going to secretly give all the black folks he says "hi" to on the street reparations for slavery. And after that he'll single-handedly impregnate all white women in America with his huge, black penis in order to create even more people who happen to have white ancestry but identify as black.

Okay, I'll stop being sarcastic because if this is your first time visiting, you might be thinking I'm totally crazy. (And, um, I plead the 5th on that one.)

I just wonder, how long America will act like all these racial code words and phrases don't bubble underneath our merry, Wal-Mart surface? The words and phrases are playing on a racial record I've been hearing since I was a child. The needle is skipping in the same place, over the same phrases, over and over again. I'd be a fool to act like I don't know what it all really means.

And I guess I can't laugh too much at the literal penis stealing story when we've figuratively got the same thing going on here. I guess that story doesn't sound too crazy after all.

Earth Day Contest Winners!

I'm happy to announce the winners of the Los Angelista Earth Day giveaway! Thanks to those of you who entered by sharing your best tips for green living! It was nice to see all the stuff you're doing to reduce, reuse and recylce, not just on Earth Day but on every day of the year.

I wrote all your names on pieces of paper, folded them and then let my kids throw them up in the air. They then chose two off the ground. The two winners of the Brita faucet mount filtration system and two new HDPE Filter for Good Nalgene bottles (which is BPA-free) are:

Jameil and Ian!

Congratulations to you both and email me your addresses so I can head over to the post office and have your prizes on their way to you!

Reduce + Reuse + Recycle = Earth Day

Last Friday I took a hike to the top of Mount Hollywood, a place that has amazingly lovely views of Los Angeles -- unless it's a really smoggy morning and you can barely even see downtown.


I know you think your air is cleaner, but just because you don't live in the Smog Capital of America, that doesn't mean you're air is that much better than ours. A little bit better, sure. Much better? Probably not.

Fortunately though, it's Earth Day today so we can each figure out what we need to do in our own lives to make this planet cleaner. After all, it's not like we can move to Mars if this place gets too toxic. Or rather, you go on ahead to Mars and I'll stay right here and wait for your post card.

Seriously though, what are you going to change? I'm all for holding companies accountable to high environmental standards. After all, I saw Kanye West's "Glow in the Dark" tour last night but that doesn't mean I want to literally glow in the dark because of pollutants in my environment. It's just that I can't complain about toxic chemicals being dumped in the water or air if I don't do my part as well. That means it's time for us all to take a look around ourselves and think about how we're going to step up our reducing, reusing and recycling game.

There's lots of seemingly small but impactful changes you can make that will make the smog go away, not just on Earth Day but on every day. Here's some good ones if you're at a loss for what to do. Of course, I'm also happy to suggest that you make today the day you stop drinking bottled water. (Aren't I helpful?)

I firmly believe we can blame the success of bottled water squarely on the heads of the producers of the film "Erin Brokovich". I mean, it had Julia Roberts wearing a pushup bra and it made us all think about whether we could get cancer from drinking water somebody claims is safe.

Never mind that most bottled water is just tap water in the first place. Now it's too late. We're all hooked on it and the corporations that market it to us are laughing all the way to the bank. Meanwhile, tons of oil and energy is used to make all that bottle plastic -- and it's all part of a vicious cycle that sends more pollutants into the atmosphere, causes smog and thus, global warming! I won't even get into the people that throw their bottle on the GROUND after using it. Since you're reading this blog I just know you can't be a litterbug!

Fortunately, we can stop the bottled water madness together. One way is to go back to drinking the water that comes out of your sink. If you don't like how it tastes, well, get a filter. I've been using Brita pitchers for at least the past eight years and the water tastes just fine. Plus, a filter is a MUCH cheaper alternative to bottled water and it's also environmentally friendly.

What's also really cool is that in honor of Earth Day the Brita people have partnered up with Nalgene to create a campaign called Filter For Good. If you're seriously ready to take the pledge to give up bottled water, I can help two of you lucky readers out with that thanks to the first-ever Los Angelista giveaway!

Brita sent me a couple of their faucet mount filtration systems and two new HDPE Filter for Good Nalgene bottles. All you have to do is leave your best tips for green living in the comments. I'll put all your names in a hat and then pick two of you as the winners of these lovely prizes!

Let's hope the changes we all make today and every day will help next year's photo from Mount Hollywood be a whole lot less smoggy.

Turn Off My TV

I like to watch TV.

I can sit and watch Rock of Love episodes of Masterpiece Theatre all night long. Then I might wander over to the History Channel where there's always some cool show about the total barbaric craziness that was Europe in the Middle Ages.

After that "The Breakfast Club" will come on and I'll feel compelled to watch it for the 1,406th time just so I can see Mr. Vernon yell to Bender, "Don't mess with the bull young man, you'll get the horns!"

Given all this, it may come as a surprise that I'm attempting to participate in Turn Off Your TV Week this week. It's not that I'm addicted to "American Idol" (I've only seen it once) or anything like that. But, it never hurts to put the brakes on the "idiot box". And I suppose I could read a book about the Middle Ages instead of watching a documentary, even if I sort of like those reenactments of the plague descending on Europe.

The week starts today and goes till the the 27th. My goal is to avoid turning on the TV at all, but I especially want to wean myself off of cable news and all reality shows on Bravo. Fortunately, the addictive train-wreck that was VH1's "Rock of Love" ended last night with the reunion show so I'm already finished with that. Whew, perfect timing.

I'm starting off strong since I did not watch the news at all this morning. That's probably a good thing because I can't take all the pre-Pennsylvania Primary hype. However, my efforts to not watch TV should get "interesting" because my husband is not participating with me. He said he doesn't see the point of it. I suppose I'll just go sit in another room when he turns on the TV -- and when I get really irritated with him, I'll just think about how he's the way he is because he's been a big TV watcher ever since he was a kid.

Hmm...this no TV thing can turn into self-righteousness in a heartbeat, can't it?

I suppose I have an advantage over him though. I didn't watch a whole lot of TV growing up and neither did my parents. My mom watched WGN's 9:00 morning movie if it was any good, then she'd sometimes watch the "Phil Donohue"show at 11. The only soap-opera I remember her watching was "The Young and the Restless", but even that wasn't an everyday thing.

We definitely watched "Masterpiece Theatre" -- I still remember the fabulous one about Lillie Langtry-- but other than that, the only shows we saw on a fairly consistent basis were "Fantasy Island" and "The Love Boat". Sometimes we had cable TV. Sometimes we didn't. Our lives just didn't revolve around TV. We could read, draw, paint, wash dishes or pull weeds in the yard, but we didn't just sit around and watch TV.

I figure not watching TV has to be a good thing for my kids. When I told them about this, they just wanted to know if they could still play video games. I think technically the week bans any kind of "screen time" but I'm trying to be realistic with this. I don't want a total mutiny in the house and besides, I'm going to see Kanye West tonight and I think the babysitter might freak if they can't play video games for a little while.

Another benefit of doing this no TV thing though is that maybe I can be totally honest next time I take my boys to the pediatrician. If you're not a parent, you may not know that every time you take your kids to the pediatrician's office for a checkup, they ask, "How many hours of TV a day does your child watch?"

I'm always the parent that says, "Um, ah, um, maybe one, unless it's Saturday and then they get to watch, cough, two hours." Nevermind that there are like six cable channels devoted to cartoons. Two hours (the maximum daily limit) is a good guesstimate of the time spent, right?

Parents claim that our children are barely TV viewers because we know that otherwise, we're on the "Irresponsible, Very Bad Parent That Lets Their Kid Get Babysat By TV" list. If you're on this list, you know your child will end up hyperactive, unable to concentrate and lacking in creativity. And then your child will be an all-around complete idiot as an adult.

I guess that's why when I go to the doctor, I never get asked how many hours of TV I'm watching. Maybe it's already assumed that my brain is fried and that I'm an idiot? Well, hopefully I'll be a smarter, more well-rounded adult at the end of this week and maybe my sons will be less likely to beg for Lucky Charms and the latest Lego Star Wars toys since they'll be unplugged from all the commercials.

So are you going to join me in turning off your TV too? C'mon, let's try to make it through the week together!

Tesla Coiling

Earlier today I wanted to go throw myself into a sensory deprivation tank because my brain was feeling a little like this:


Yes, I totally felt like a mental Tesla Coil! I was having one of those moments where I was comparing my life to everyone else's more amazing and awesome life. The comparison game left me feeling agitated because I don't own a house, my car is 11 years old, and I have no cute spring clothes... and those are just the first three things I was getting worked up about.

Sound trivial to you? Well, maybe it is. But I know I'm not the only one who goes through this. I guess I was just having a moment where I felt less than, where I felt like I should be achieving something that I'm not, and in our world, achievement = material things.

I felt like I needed to distract myself from such thoughts so I made the mistake of turning on MSNBC to see what was happening in the world. Why didn't my guardian angel stop me from doing this? Talk about a BIG mistake! I got to hear all the gossipy insanity that is the spin-cycle of our Presidential election process.

Seriously, what in the world is going on with this mess? I'm seeing $6.99 watermelons in the grocery store, there's more homelessness here in LA than anywhere else in the United States and California unemployment hit 6.2% in March, but, nope, I'm supposed to focus on who Barack Obama's ever talked to in his entire life?

Yeah, the TV absolutely had to go off when I was started saying, "Bitch, please," to Joe Scarborough's commentary. AAGH!!! I think sparks were flying out of my ears!

So what made me stop my "Tesla Coiling"?

Well, I looked over to where my four year-old son was lounging, flat on his back in the middle of my living room floor. He was wearing a Spiderman costume with a pair of cowboy boots and he was staring straight up at the ceiling.

He seemed very deep in thought so I asked, "What are you thinking about over there?"

His reply? "I'm thinking about how much I love you." He then sat up and threw his arms around me.

I suddenly stopped feeling like I needed to go to the bookstore and buy some book titled "How to Fix Your Lame-o-Life".

My life is not so lame, even if I have my dinged up car, no new clothes, and no house in the overpriced Los Angeles housing market. Not lame because I have a little boy who loves me and isn't shy about telling me so. Not everyone has that and I'm so lucky.

I hope you have someone who tells you "I love you" and saves you from yourself too.

40 Things About Moi

I was visiting Hammer over at When Your Only Tool's a Hammer and I decided to swagger jack this fun meme from him:

What I was doing 10 years ago?
-Roaming the streets of NYC
-Getting ready to move to LA
-Working out for two hours a day (running, rowing machine and weight lifting)
-Listening to a lot of Hot 97 (Busta Rhymes had some hot stuff out then!)
-Going dancing at the Latin Quarter

Five things on my to-do list today?
· Write an article for Divine Caroline
· Revise an article for Anti-Racist Parent
· Go to a school site meeting at 8 a.m. (totally dreading it)
· Go get a chai from Starbucks to help me survive the meeting (I might spike it with some melatonin so I'll be nice and mellow)
· Do this workout (eek!)

Places I have traveled?
· Beijing
· Montreal (not in the winter, m'kay!)
· Catalina Island
· Birmingham
· New Orleans

Five snacks or treats I enjoy?
· Yogurt-covered pretzels
· Twizzlers
· Gummi Worms and Gummi Bears
· Wheat crackers with pickle relish or peach pineapple salsa
· Breyer's triple chocolate ice cream (especially the white chocolate section)

Things I would do if I were a billionaire?
· Start a college prep tutoring non-profit for low-income middle and high school kids
· Buy a place in Villefranche-sur-Mer
· Go live in Villefranche-sur-Mer after I take a trip around the world
· Pay off the bills of everyone in my immediate family and create investment funds for them
· Give money to lots and lots of charities

Five of my bad habits?
-Throwing clothes on floor of my closet
-Procrastination
-Not taking care of myself as much as I should
-Too much multi-tasking
-Inability to spend money on myself

Five places I have lived?
-LA
-New York City
-Guangzhou, People's Republic of China
-Montreal
-Chicago

Five jobs I’ve had?
· Teacher
· Teacher supervisor
· Bank teller (I thought I'd get robbed every day)
· Research Assistant
· Waitress/Restaurant Hostess

Gosh that was fun! Now you know I want to tag some of y'all but I'll refrain. But, if you do this meme, let me know!

Polygamist Diversity?

Until today I hadn't really paid attention to the whole Texas FLDS polygamy ranch scandal. The minute I hear the word "polygamy", I tend to think of some controlling men who have brainwashed some poor women so that they can have lots of sex and get waited on hand and foot.

Watching some of the wives from the ranch on the Today Show this morning did nothing to change my assumption. My goodness, these ladies need some serious deprogramming, not to mention a few hours alone with Tim Gunn.



At the 2:14 mark, I was totally talking to my TV:

"Do you hear the craziness you're saying? Is your hair for real? Why are you dressed like you're on Little House on the Prairie? Do you know you sound like a robot?"

Even if they want to claim that no abuse happened with their kids, wowzer, they seriously need help in the mental department!

And another thing, I'm just wondering, are there ever African-American polygamists? Asian-American polygamists? Latinos? Or do white folks in these United States have polygamy on lock down or something?

Even on that TV show, Big Love, it was all white ladies as the wives. And instead of the husband looking like the Grizzly Adams we urban elite snobs clearly think they look like, Bill Paxton gets thrown in there as the husband.

Is America just not ready to see some black guy from the 'Sip being stressed by having to manage his relationships with his four wives? Don't we want to see the Chinese guy from the outskirts of San Francisco getting his freak on with Wife #1 on Monday, Wife #2 on Wednesday and Wife #3 on the weekends?

I know some comedian somewhere has probably told a joke at some point about how no real sistah is gonna tolerate being Wife Number Two, let alone being Wife Number Twenty. But at the fine university I went to, there were black women who lived on the south end of campus and tolerated their boyfriends having another girl on the north end of campus. True, the two ladies may have eventually had an ugly altercation in the Tech building over this situation, and said altercation may have ultimately been blamed on one of them being ghetto since she was from Gary, but you get where I'm going with this, right? And in the many years since college, how many times have I heard someone say, "He may creep with her but he comes home to me at night."

So why don't black folks, Asians and Latinos just full on go for the polygamist route? Not saying it should go down like that, because I don't, but why don't we have a little more diversity in our polygamists?

Tax Day Public Service Announcements

Ah, Tax Day is here again.

I hope you're already filed and planning how you're going to spend save your forthcoming return or rebate check. However, if you're on track to be one of those poor souls we all see sweating bullets at the post-office on tonight's 11:00 news, stop reading right now and step away from blog addiction.

Now that we have that all cleared up, if you are finished with your taxes, you deserve to keep reading. I have some public service announcements (PSA) for you!

PSA #1: Be Bitter AND Elite
The words "bitter" and "elite" are not mutually exclusive.

I'm a little bitter that gas is about to hit $4 a gallon here in El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles de Porciúncula.

I'm also elite because when I head to the 'Bux, I order a soy chai with a shot of sugar free vanilla, extra hot. Oh, and I went to some super prestigious universities and got a great educmakasion. And, I have lots of student loan debt to show for it! -- Oops, forget about that little mention of student loan debt because we weren't talking about bitterness anymore, were we? Hmm, now I know why people love Jon Stewart.

Could you possibly be bitter and elite, too?

PSA #2: Free Iced Coffee
I don't drink coffee anymore but I know you probably do. So, if you live in driving distance of a Southern California McDonald's, today's your lucky day! Here's a coupon for you to enjoy a FREE iced coffee at Mickey D's! I'm sure it'll be loaded up with sugar because it is McDonald's and the sprinkle sugar on everything over there, (watch Supersize Me if you don't believe me) but heck, it's free and you might like it. And did I mention it's free till May 5th? You could print out a bunch of these coupons and go to a different Mickey D's every day of the week!

If you don't live in Southern California, bummer. Maybe you should move here -- and bring your kids so the enrollment at our schools will stop going down. Plus, where else in the country can you get...

PSA #3: Free Trees:
I know. You were hoping I was going to type "Free Winning Lottery Tickets". Sorry. I don't have a hook-up like that. But, if you live in LA, the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power will give you free trees to plant in your yard. Never mind that they're gonna jack up your light bill 23% and your water bill by 10%. At least you'll have a nice shady tree to plant in your yard as a gift for forking even more of your hard earned moolah!

To get the tree, all you have to do is take a 20 minute online tree care class. Seriously easy, so go get yourself some trees.

And since you're already in the mood to save something...

PSA #4: Go Clean a Beach
I promise that after you do it, you will want to slap the next person you see throwing a cigarette butt on the ground. I know from personal experience because I've done three beach clean-ups. They were sponsored by Heal the Bay and I took my 3rd graders out to Dockweiler State Beach to pick up trash. When you do stuff like that, you think about the environment in a totally different way. So now, every third Saturday, Heal the Bay picks the dirtiest area beach and sponsors a clean up. You can head out to Redondo Beach this Saturday and put in some time. They provide all the supplies for you so all you have to do is put your back into it from 10 am to noon.

You say you're into saving something but afraid of upping your skin cancer ante?

PSA #4: Save the Los Angeles Public Library
While our mayor, Mr. Villaraigosa has been hamming it up in the national media and getting out the Latino vote with Hillary Clinton, our city budget has been going to hell in a hand basket.

Case in point, the Los Angeles Public Library is so cash-strapped that they stopped buying new books back in February and they started canceling periodicals and database subscriptions. Oh, and say your local neighborhood branch in the hood is craptastic and doesn't have half the books that the nice branch in Los Feliz does, on July 1st you'll have to pay a dollar a book to get the tome you need sent to your branch. (See, I use words like "tome". I really am elite, n'est-ce pas?)

What can you do to stop this travesty of literary justice? At the very least, go to the Save the LAPL website and click on the link there to send a letter to Mayor Villaraigosa. We need to let him and the rest of his city hall buddies know that this ain't gonna fly. Plus, you'll feel like a rock star because you'll be contributing to literacy and preventing the masses from obtaining hair weaves, kissing trashy looking women and wearing Ed Hardy t-shirts all the time!

I seriously would love to get Bret Michaels a different hairstylist and makeup artist but unfortunately, I can't pay it forward like that. Instead, I'll participate in the...

PSA #5: Pay It Forward Exchange
Okay, okay. All you non-Southern California peeps are feeling left out. Sooo, I have to give you the opportunity to get a nice gift from me, courtesy of the Pay It Forward Exchange. I read about it on Anali's awesome blog like three weeks ago and signed up to participate. Here's the way it works:

"I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog."

Unfortunately, I don't know how to make much of anything. I'm just not very crafty like that. That means I know what the handmade gift from me will probably be.

Hint: Put "Depeche Mode" + "my favorite songs" + "burned onto a CD" + "just for you" together into a sentence.

And that's about it for our Tax Day edition of Public Service Announcements. Earth Day is coming up so I have even more PSAs for you (and a cool giveaway from these lovely folks) coming up!

Quieter, Messier

The house seems so quiet, and a little bit messier too.

Saturday morning I dragged my sister's suitcase to the inside of the American Airlines terminal, hoped that her flight to Chicago would be one of the thousands canceled, and then sighed with disappointment when I found that it was not. I managed to hold back my tears until she had to go through the first security checkpoint. Ticketless, I could not follow her.

Don't you miss those pre-September 11th days when you could hug someone goodbye at the gate and then watch them walk onto the plane? After so many years of War on Terror "safety" measures, it still feels inadequate to only be able to wave goodbye as someone ascends an escalator and yells down, "You better not cry!"

Her words were too late, because as she now knows, I cry over everything that touches my heart these days. And so I tried to cover my face. I felt embarrassed to be crying so much in an airport terminal with harried passengers shoving past me to get to the self-service check-in kiosks and the security guards looking at me like I was a cause for concern. Doesn't anybody cry anymore when they say goodbye? Or are we all too used to gruffly kicking someone out of our cars at the curb and then getting on with our busy lives?

I cried until I got back to where where my car should have been in the parking garage. It was gone. I stood in the garage thinking, "Great. Someone stole my car."

I pulled out my cell phone and debated who I should call first. I just couldn't believe it. I mean, who the hell steals an 11 year-old car? I paced back and forth for a few more moments, thought about how I wasn't going to cry again because tears don't solve stuff like a stolen car -- and then I suddenly realized I was on the wrong garage level. Whew. I took the elevator down one level, and thankfully, there was my car, complete with it's beloved scrapes and dings.

I took surface streets home, driving north on La Cienega Boulevard. I turned down the music to see if I could hear the creak of the oil pumps that are ever churning in the dusty hills. I passed the Target on Rodeo Road and considered stopping and engaging in some mindless shopping to take my mind off not having my sister here anymore. After all, I could always use more lipstick and house plants. But I was in the wrong lane for a left turn into the parking lot, so I headed up Fairfax to Beverly, cranking up my air conditioner as I drove. It was already so devilishly hot by 9 am.

The time in the car made me realize that I wasn't crying just because my sister was gone. It's that I shared a room with her when we were little and I know why she cried as a child and as a teenager. I know if she were a bitter and angry woman, that wouldn't be unreasonable. But she's not. She's so considerate and has such a good heart. Sure, she has problems like anyone and she's not perfect, but she's never said she is.

And I know I cried because it's so rare that anyone I'm related to comes to visit just to see us. I get those that ring me up to say, "Oh, I'm going to be in town for work and I have an hour or two free." Not that I don't appreciate that, but it's different when you know someone decides to take a trip just to see you. I'll put it out there and admit that it makes me sad that I have been here for ten years and my mother has never come to visit. Nobody from my husband's family has ever come visit either. Sometimes it feels like it's about more than fear of getting on planes, more than the cost of a plane ticket. It would be a shame if the first time my mother has to come to California is, God forbid, for my funeral. I hope that does not end up being the case, but we never know if we're promised tomorrow.

And so I drove home through the boiling streets of Los Angeles and before I knew it, I was back to a house that felt too silent.

My sister's running shoes are in the hallway outside my door. She accidentally picked up my pair and left hers here. I promised to mail them to her but she'll probably go buy a new pair before I even get to the post office. Maybe I'll keep her shoes here in anticipation of her next visit.

Why Can't My Sister Live Here?

My sister and I have been having more fun than should be legally allowed. As you can see, we've been out and about, spending tons of time climbing and hugging trees. Isn't she a hot tree-hugger? And despite my worries about her type A, neat freak tendencies, she's doing very well and is only threatening to reorganize the bookcases!

My solution has been to keep her out of the house pretty much all day. Since we've been running around though, I haven't been home to come over and read your blogs or write something new on mine. As much as I miss y'all, that's the way it should be. I don't get to see her too often so it's well worth it to step away from Blog Land for a hot second and have a great time with her.

We first had a grand scheme to go to Santa Barbara over the weekend but instead decided to stay local. My sister had never been over to Venice Beach so on Saturday we headed out that way and strolled the insanity that is the Boardwalk. There were the usual sage and incense sellers, drummers, henna tattoo artists and folks hawking wind chimes made out of colanders and forks. We also dodged waves and frolicked a bit in the sand. Unfortunately though, we ran into some tar that had washed up onto the beach (the surfers said it's oil from ships). I couldn't see it because it was under the sand, so I stepped all in it.

Before I knew it, the bottoms of my feet were covered with tar and it wasn't coming off! The surfers told me they frequently have the problem of getting tar on their boards. They told me to just rub cooking oil on the tar and then it would gradually wipe off. Thankfully, we soon wandered over to the Sidewalk Cafe for a late lunch. The waiter was really nice when I asked him for a cup of cooking oil so I could get the tar off my feet. It took me 20 minutes in the bathroom but thank goodness it worked! But I feel horrible thinking about all the animals that probably get some of that tar on their fins or fur and have no one to rub cooking oil on them to remove it.

What else? We go work out hardcore every morning. My sister is used to running five or six miles a day so I've been going to limp along run with her. Thankfully she gave me a bit of a break today and we only hiked four miles on Mount Hollywood.

The last time my sister was here was pre Griffith Park fire. Parts of the trail are starting to regrow, but this section still only has scorched palm trees. It's amazing that these palm trees survived and are still green on the tops despite the charred bottoms. Whew, the power of nature, you know?

Anyway, she leaves Saturday morning so I only have a couple more days with her. Sob! Trust me, I will continue to both somehow survive her tough workouts and run her all over the city. I love my sister so much. She's really a lot of fun and such a sweet and generous woman.

Gosh I wish she lived here in California. She needs to make it happen! But in the meantime, we've got another full day lined up for tomorrow.

Arrival of the Type A Neat Freak

I've been spending most of the day feeling guilty about not writing a new post today or responding to comments left on my previous nervous breakdown about my hair. But you see, in eight hours I'm going to be waiting at the American Airlines baggage claim at LAX because my sister arriving! I love my sister, talk to her pretty much every day and am SO excited she's coming! But I've been cleaning like a madwoman in preparation for her visit.

You know how drivers from car services hold up signs for their clients in the baggage claim? Well, I'm going to make a sign for my sister and it's going to say "Welcome, Type A Neat Freak". I know some people throw terms like "Type A" and "Neat Freak" around lightly, but I'm not kidding in my sister's case. She's so Type A that she was packed for her trip by this past Sunday. I mean, who does that?

She's seven years older than me and the poor girl had to share a room with me when we were kids. She'd have all her stuff completely organized and made her bed every morning without being told to do so. And there I'd be, sleeping with books and tossing my clothes on the floor. When we'd have to clean our room on Saturdays, all her clothes would get folded and hung up, arranged according to color and type. My version of cleaning the room was to throw everything in the closet or under the bed. Shh...sometimes that's still my version of cleaning my room. I chalk it up to my artistic temperament.

All of her natural neat-freakishness got taken to another level when she went to the military. I remember when she came back from being stationed in Germany she tried to teach me how to make a bed. I swear, she was getting off by demonstrating how to tuck the sheets in properly!

I love this about her because when I go visit her I sometimes entertain myself by torturing her. I am still a bratty little sister so I do stuff like set pens and pencils on her dining room table or put the newspaper on her kitchen counter. She'll whiz by and fold up the newspaper like she's on auto-pilot and stick the pens and pencils in a drawer.

The key to is to wait till she leaves the room and then get the paper, pens and pencils back out again. I'm telling you, she'll come back in and put everything away once more without even realizing she's done it before. It's like she has a voice in her head saying, "Mess! Must clean!" I love it!

So you see why I've been doing extra mopping and dusting, right? My sister gets sooo excited by cleaning. I, on the other hand, merely endure it. It's a necessary evil. I do it but I'm not psyched beyond belief to clean and never have been. Please don't think I'm a total slob because I'm not. I absolutely cannot stand a dirty bathroom or kitchen, but I'm definitely more laissez faire about other stuff. If there's a bunch of magazines on the coffee table I'm alright with that. If there's also a teacup, a couple of Lego action figures, an iPod, (peering over there to see what else) a Michael Clayton DVD, a black sharpie and a pack of stamps on the table, I'm ok with that too.

I sort of have to be ok with it all since I'm married to the messiest person on the planet and both of my children have, ahem, artistic temperaments too. I'm telling you, my husband should be the poster boy for, "Will not become neater after marriage". I've learned to live with his messiness, just like he lives with mine. We rub along quite nicely with our joint lack of neat-freak tendencies. But I know my sister usually wants to strangle him after about an hour. Ah, I'm sure they'll both play nice with each other over the next week. Besides, I fully intend to run her all over this city so that she'll have no chance to observe any dust bunnies that may crop up!

So, back to cleaning I go!

The Long and Short of My Hair

It's almost midnight on a rainy night in LA. Twenty minutes ago I had a pair of scissors in my hand. I was thisclose to snipping off all my hair.

But I chickened out.

I have a lot of fear about cutting all my hair off and as the days continue to fly by, I've been reflecting a lot about what's behind this fear. I know folks will say that it's just hair and it'll grow back, but when you're a black woman in America, such a laissez faire attitude toward hair is not so easy to have.

I've found that getting to a place of comfortability with my hair is a little like unpeeling the layers of an onion. Like dealing with an onion, peeling back the layers of hair can also cause a few tears. It makes me think about the insidiously racist messages about beauty that black women, including yours truly, receive.

One of the most recent layers I unpeeled was chemical straightening (also called "relaxers" in case you didn't know.) Over the years I've gone back and forth with relaxers. In high school and college I used them, but didn't have the money for the upkeep so my hair didn't always look so hot. Post graduation/post life in China, I stopped straightening. --I need to learn how to use the scan function on my printer so you all can see some photos of how big my hair was after a couple of years of growing out all the straightened ends. I think it stood a good six inches horizontally off my head. I'm sure it would've been bigger, but since my hair was also pretty long, the weight of it pulled all the bigness down a bit. I'm not kidding. It was seriously the biggest, awesomest hair ever.

About four years ago I started straightening it again, mostly because I felt pressure to seem more "professional". It's hard to sit in a meeting with a principal or district official when you feel like you have the biggest, most unprofessional hair ever. Whether the pressure was real or a result of my own psychosis is certainly a fair game question, but let me just point out that we do live in a world where last fall, a Glamour Magazine editor told a group of lawyers the following:

"First slide up: an African American woman sporting an Afro. A real no-no, announced the 'Glamour' editor to the 40 or so lawyers in the room. As for dreadlocks: How truly dreadful! The style maven said it was 'shocking' that some people still think it 'appropriate' to wear those hairstyles at the office. 'No offense,' she sniffed, but those 'political' hairstyles really have to go."

Of course, Glamour did whatever damage control they needed to do at the time. But, I'm still waiting to see the pages of their magazine really reflect the diversity of black hairstyles. Actually, to take it a step further, I'm still waiting to see the models in the magazine reflect some true diversity, period. But maybe I'm somehow skipping over all the pages with black, Latina and Asian models.

Anyway, I was increasingly dissatisfied with straightening my hair. Every time I went to get my hair done, it took like five hours. It was also expensive, both in terms of the salon cost as well as styling products/conditioners. I needed all the conditioners and styling products because the more straightening and flat ironing you do, the more damaged your hair becomes. It's like a vicious cycle because it takes more and more effort to make it look decent.

I'd been considering going back to natural for about a year because I was sick of the straight hair and how flat and boring it was. The final straw was last July when I transitioned out of my job. About a week after I left, I went to get the roots of my relaxed hair touched up. My stylist was super busy chatting about her daughter. I was exhausted and not paying attention to any of it. Before I knew it, she ran the chemicals through not just my roots but through my whole head of hair. This is SUCH a no-no, not to mention it's never taken too much to straighten my hair in the first place. This second application of chemicals was a total disaster. My hair felt rough, it would not hold any kind of curl and it looked like straw.

I vowed to never go back to her again and then spent the summer dousing my hair in all sorts of deep conditioning treatments and avoiding my flat iron unless absolutely necessary. I figured the long term solution was to find a new stylist, but the thought of doing such a thing was really overwhelming. Most black women have the nightmare stories about the stylist everybody else swore was awesome and then they walk outta there half bald! AAGH! It's really hard to find someone you can trust.

I also didn't want anybody I needed to drive an hour through traffic to go see. I didn't want anybody's cousin Re-Re who did hair in her garage. And as much as I loved Dominican stylists in NYC, I didn't want to pay the Dominican stylist who'd opened not too far from me the extortion-type rates they were charging. So, I wore a lot of hats.

It wasn't till after school started last September and some issues with my eldest son feeling confident about his blackness emerged that I started really reflecting on how straightening my hair was sending my boys the wrong message. How could I tell them to be proud of their skin and hair when I was constantly chemically altering mine? And again, it's not like changing from flats to heels. Whether we like it or not, black hair is politicized. Because there's so much baggage tied to our hair, I felt like I was going along with the societal message that a woman of African descent is not as attractive if her hair is not long and straight.

I thought about how my son would see billboards of Beyonce up in Hollywood and he'd always comment that he liked her hair. I started explaining how it wasn't really her hair, that it was a lace-front wig. He'd look at me like I was crazy, and to tell you the truth, it made me feel a little crazy to be explaining it all to him. I thought about how I didn't want him to turn into one of those guys that only likes long, straight hair, or, even worse, one of those brothers that proudly proclaims that he only dates girls with light skin and long hair. I think if I ever heard my son say that, I'd throw up. So, I realized he needed to see a role model of natural hair in the woman he most closely identifies with. And that would be me.

In the past, growing out my hair from a relaxer wasn't such a big deal because I'd had stylists that didn't leave chemicals on too long or run them through my hair twice. So the difference between my natural hair and the straightened hair wasn't as noticeable. I'd rinse it with water in the morning, throw some leave-in conditioner and hair gel in it and run out the door. It would all curl up nicely. But this time though, it's really noticeable because my hair is so straight.

Since the end of October, my solution has been to straw set my hair. I wrote about all of that here so I won't rehash it. But once every week, I roll all my hair on straws and then dry it. The whole process takes about two and a half hours to do, but compared to the five hours I was spending dying in a salon plus daily styling, it's totally worth it.

However, I've been thinking for awhile now that I need to peel another layer off the hair onion. I need to just cut off all the over-processed, straightened ends and only have my own natural hair. I don't like being tied to a straw set but without it, the straightened part of my hair looks horrible. If my hair is shorter, I can just rinse it and go. But, I've never had short hair in my entire life. The shortest my hair has ever been is chin-length and I hated it.

I'm so afraid to cut it because I'm worried I'm going to look awful with a six-inch 'fro on my head. I do have a measure of vanity in my bones and, in case you didn't notice, I live in Los Angeles, the vanity capital of the world. I'm not trying to look like a buster.

Then I think about all those messages we women get about long hair and how all that feels like it's doubled for black women. I question everything, so I wonder, am I still perpetuating this racist insanity of aspects of a black woman's worth being tied to long, straight hair? Should I just take the plunge and chop it off? I know some of you have taken that step, so I'd especially love to hear you weigh in on this.

I know that with each layer of societal brainwashing that's removed, I get closer to my true self. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to give it a go with the scissors.

Sexy April Fool's Day

I know it's April Fool's Day when I try to log onto one of the many Depeche Mode message boards I'm a part of and I get this message:

"Sorry los.angelista, you are banned from using this forum!

You've been banned!

"Why", I hear you asking? I'll tell you why! Because it's April Fools Day, of course!! See you tomorrow ;)"

I read that first sentence and freaked out! Banned? And just when I was about to cry, my eyes read more and thankfully saw that it was an April Fools Day joke. Whew.

I should have known April Fool's Day was rolling around though because I heard that the LA City Council is banning homicides in the city for 40 hours. But then I read the same story in the LA Times so I figured that bit of wishful thinking must actually be true, unlike last week's fake Tupac story.

Come to think of it, all Hillary Clinton needs to say about the whole "I was shot at by snipers in Bosnia" lie is that it was all an early April Fool's Day joke. Hah hah! Right?

Anyway, I thought my eyes were playing early April Fool's Day tricks on me when I saw I've been given the Sexy Blogger Award not once, but TWICE in the past two days! Let me bust out a Prince CD and play "U Got the Look" right now!

To tell you the truth, I generally do not think of myself as sexy. Hot, yes. Sexy, no. But wowzer, check my Sexy Blogger Award out! Needless to say, that is not my bootay. I will spare us all a multitude of embarrassment and refrain from describing the differences between my rear and the one in the photo. But I will say a prayer that the woman featured in this picture learns to wear a thong sometime soon. I mean, if you're going to have your underwear up your butt, you might as well go for a thong and dispense with the granny panties once and for all.

In any case, now that I'm finished talking about badonk-a-donks, I'll tell you how I got this award. The ever-fabulous and positive Claudia from On a Limb With Claudia was the first to give me the Sexy Blogger Award. Claudia said she gave it to me because I have "sexy hair!"

I don't think I've heard my hair described as sexy in recent years months days so I'm pretty excited and flattered by this, especially since my hair has been driving me nuts lately. Come to think of it, I need to write a whole post about what's going on with my hair because it's much too complex for me to write about in the same post as a picture of a butt. Let me put "Write post about hair drama" on my to-do list for tomorrow.

Just when I was really contemplating my hair sexiness, Cajunvegan over at one of my newly favorite blogs, "I Read Banned Books", also gave me the Sexy Blogger Award for my "dead sexiness".<