Friday, March 24, 2006

Buckets Overflown

Purple Rain in a Drought will be on a break for a while.

Things just have been a bit nuttier than a snickers bar around here. My bucket has overflown! It's making a mess of my floor so I GOTTA clean it up. My posts are just not the same, nor as good as when I first started. Before I spoke from the heart, my mind, my gut and every other part of me that has a voice and opinion. However, now I find myself censoring my thoughts because "somebody will read my blog and get the wrong idea". This blog is my heart, my hobby, my outlet and for a while it has no longer been my own. I have let it become something else, I let it be taken away. I figured that the best way to combat the anarchy of my life is to write about it. Write about it in a way that heals through laughter and lesson, healing me and potentially healing or( at least entertaining) others. Which is the very reason I started this blog a year ago, to be an asshole and be witty and so sincere about it. Writing is my love, but recently I haven't really been able to show it my sincere affection. I have decided to stop compromising.

Secondly, Purple Rain in a Drought needs a re-vamping. If there is anyone with design ideas, contacts etc. please let me know. So I guess there will be a break of say...2-3 weeks maximum then a Season 2 of Purple Rain in a Drought! I won't keep people waiting like those bastards at HBO did with The Sopranos. My life has changed in 2 years, you can't just walk back in and think I am going to be available every sunday night!

Please keep reading!

So sincere,

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Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I Put Five on My Skinny Jeans

I stepped on the scale last week and giggled. After my unhealthy diet of Sugarfree Red-Bull and spinach salads with tuna I had finally reached my goal weight in time for my trip to Las Vegas. I needed this trip like someone would need a blood transfusion. I needed to get away.
I walked up to the ticket counter to check in my bags only to find that I was too late to board my flight. Looking at my watch noting it was 6:19 am and my flight left at 6:40, I officially declared American Airlines a bunch of haters. As I walked over to those awful blue airline seats, I had to pull up my pants. Ha Ha! Well, this gives me enough time to do my make up and slip on my skinny jeans. After all you never know who you will meet in Vegas and I needed something to happen to me fast.

Do you ever find it funny how one can tell their whole life story to a stranger as long as they are traveling? Perhaps it is to make the time go by, but I always, ALWAYS find myself in some long intimate conversation during some leg of my trip. You're going where? Oh really you build ships? Kidding I went to Florida State Too. But that is the fantastic part, you never know who you'll meet and I love to meet fantastic people. Since I had to catch a connecting flight stand-by to Vegas from Dallas I lucked out and got a First-Class seat. The flight was full and the guy who originally had my seat didn't want to sit next to te window so he got off. As I walk towards my seat this sharp dressed black man with curly hair remarks, "Well, I got my wish"
"What was that " I asked.
"To sit next to beautiful woman".
Ooooh yes indeed! So glad I spent my money on these pants!

We talked every minute of that three hour flight about work and school, golf, football, HBCU's the guy I had on my mind, his wife and children. But particulary about the life and love of an ambitious woman. He inititially gave me the usual encouraging words of "Get yours and he will eventually come". But it was a three hour flight so the bullshit was going to inevitably wear off.
I want a lot for myself and my father raised me to take care of myself particularly because he doesn't trust any other man with me besides himself. I admit I am a bit old fashioned. No matter how many degrees I have no matter how much money I make in the future I know I want a husband, kids, a home. I still want a man who CAN take care of me and my kids and has that drive in him to do so, at all times. I have found at the tender age of 23 that might not happen, it might not exist. Our Mommas didn't tell us that. (If she was a progressive, dream pusher like mine she didn't) Similar to marriage in general, the truth comes out only after you are in it. I have been having this conversation with my friends for some time now and just recently visited Bullet Proof Diva who had a similar topic.

I have found that I might not be compatible with that guy that I want. Nope. Some how he takes my ambition as a means for competition. Or he sees my jazziness and tries to put me in "my place", never telling me I am beautiful or that I am smart. Not that I don't already know I am beautiful, but I am still a woman. I love complements. He is always trying to reassert his manliness. There is also the guy who knows exactly what to say, how to treat you, he has no problem with the fact that you are more successful than he. In fact he is cruising around looking to come up on the back of some female. You know him. He wants you to take care of him buy his clothes, pay his bills. I am not that chick and you can bet on that.

Life isn't stationary, this world isn't transparent or built to serve a woman. We have to multi-task, work a little harder, wear 3o hats to recieve what our male counterparts do. Here he is, handsome 38 yr old VP of a technology consulting firm who married at 28 a woman 3 years his senior who "had her shit together". Of course, the male who isn't threatened by your success, right? All you ever wanted, imagine what she tells her friends.
Only see, he get older, gathers his shit and realizes his peak is further than yours. He now more established, can take a gorgeous 23 yr old out to dinner. You can't. He can lean his curly head over and admit that now you his wife, is 41 and he is 38 and he wishes he had married someone younger and "worked with her". You can't.

We as women live through dreams. We are sold on words such as virtue, dignity and honesty. We want to hear that story of the woman who had 3 kids after 45 through fertility drugs. We love Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. But you better wake up and walk to Starbucks baby cause that shit isn't for everybody! People LIE. That perfect husband is hardly ever as perfect as you friend, aunt, co-worker wants you to believe. And Brianna is not nearly as satisfied with her single life, there aren't enough CLK's, vacation homes or Prada shoes in the world! It doesn't just fall into place. It is hard work and even harder work for a woman who wants it all and won't take no for an answer. Why can't we be more honest? I would want my daughter to be aware that a woman is never really given power, she has to take it. I want her to understand the implications of that statement so that she make her choices accordingly so that she can get what she wants out of life.

I put five on my skinny jeans and everything that is holy that I could have had more than one drink at his suite at the MGM Grand. The MGM was grand and so was dinner, and so was he...

But I stood up for myself and for her the unsuspecting older wife who was about to get PLAYED. I don't expect another woman to do this for me. I understand the plight of the underdog. But standing is the only way I could zip up my skinny jeans and after all that work I wasn't about to just let some married man take them off.
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Monday, March 06, 2006

For the Love of Little Golden Statuettes

Why didn't Paul Giamatti recieve the Oscar for best supporting actor in Cinderella Man? It wasn't like he and the Oscar statue was beefing, had a dispute on the red carpet or took one "yo mama so fat" joke a step too far... so...what is really going on?

I wasn't the Oscar Grouch this year, I actually saw damn near all of the movies nominated. Yep, which means either I am getting good or the Academy is really losing its edge. Both options are debatable. But it is indeed undebatable that somebody in that Academy has had one too many codine-laced martinis because they let Three 6 Mafia perform "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp". Sure they were nominated for an Oscar for best original song, I mean we all like a good laugh every now and again. But they let those boys...whose hits include "Tear the Club Up", "Sippin on Dat Sizzurp", and "Gotta Stay High" perform it at the Academy Awards, the classiest awards show...ever. Three 6 Mafia, not Nelly or Puffy, folks. Not a group with media coaches and PR geniuses on their payroll. Three 6 Mafia, who didn't even have enough sense to put on a tux to accept their award. I am slapping down my A-A card here. I mean for the love of little golden statuettes!!! There is a time and place black people, for everything. This was a time to see us proper at the Academy awards. This was our time, our place. Phat Farm makes dress shirts, Sean John makes suits! You can still be classy and "keep it real". But thanks Three 6 Mafia, good looking out.


I stand corrected. Perhaps they didn't have enough time to change.

Good looking out AC.

Now I do believe their performance---and I am not refering to their acceptance speech which would have been just as appropriate if at the Vibe awards, please see video clip below--their performance at the Oscars was significant. I am glad that Terrance Howard let them perform their own song. This was a major step for Hip-Hop/Rap, the stuggle of people in the South and those who definitely see their love of music as away out of "the hood", if you will. Or more generally, a way to a better life. They, Hip-Hop, The stuggle, The South was taken very seriously. This means more to me than some heavy-assed statue. But their actually wininng was like whipped-cream icing on the cake. (And we know I like whipped cream) Queen Latifah actually her gut, before calling out their names as winners. I think we are going have smug assed grins on our faces for the rest of the week.

I finally saw that Madea movie. Yep, it was on Oscar night last year too except, this year there were no tears. No million text messages and missed calls to Can't Have Him as he laid in bed with Not Beyonc, his phones on silent. I made it a point to watch this movie, almost a year later to the day, and face the turning point of my life. There were no tears there either. I am not where I was last year. I say that everyday. I am the same person but I jump just a little higher over those hurdles. I am a woman now and make decisions in congress of my head, my heart and that third sentiment. I have learned the art of letting that feeling have the final say and in the life of THIS mad black woman, I deserve a golden statue.
For the Love of Little Golden StatuettesSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Yes Kanye, YESSSSS!!!!!!

Where have I been for the past week, you ask? I was in my bed under my sheets... hiding. I have not been in the right state of mind for the past um, 15 days but I am quite aware my last 2 posts have been a bit of a downer. So I won't play ring around the rosie with the poo-poo details. I'll just tell you what I have been doing while in bed.

Now when stressed I dream the worst most realistic dreams. If I was worried about school I'd have dreams that I failed out. I would dream I fell off a balcony ( and could feel myself falling) or that my father died. Some are reoccuring, some not. Last year (when I was really stressed) I would wake up screaming at least once a week. Screaming folks, screaming. So when I found myself having nightmares these past couple of days I wasn't so surprised, it was my dream of Kanye West that made me raise a brow.

Kanye West and SincereCaramel, together in the Pleasure Emporium (a.k.a. my bedroom, stop laughing) It felt so real and I was soooooo excited. He was so sweet and um, good. Why?

Them other girls built nice dreams wit your money
Perhaps even bought nice jeans wit your money
I ain't try to buy moombeams wit your money
Just new satin sheets and whipcream wit yo mon-nay!

No need for a pre-nup, you can have it. I hate sticky sheets.

He had on a cable knit sweater over a dress shirt and a blazer, all collars down. (Too old to have a turned up collar, they won't let you wear that to work, and I want to know that you have a job.)
Oooooh and the way he said "Yeah Sin City...yeah baby, take that. " I am moving my seat now, hehehe. "You're trying to touch the sky Kanye? Keep holding on me like that I'll be able to take you there!"

Weird! I don't even like Kanye West, well not like that. But for some reason it was so vivid, so real. I have caught pictures of Kanye through different websites and T.V. in the last couple of days. Is it me or is he wearing a lot of cleavage shirts lately?

Tuck it away, Ye. I would hate to see your MTV production etc. assistant girlfriend of yours (far right) have to fight because you can't control your tit-tays!

What? I wasn't hating! Assistants make like $18,000 a year right? That's more than I do.

Walking around looking like Michael with your money...

Upon sight of this picture I realized it was supposed to be a nightmare and my mind and my body just got too tired to imagine him slice my head off with machete. I would never sleep with someone who would wear that jacket.
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