Halloween Ends: My $0.02

Halloween is my favorite holiday and my favorite horror movie series. I’ve been a fan of The Shape since I was old enough to understand what it was. I’ve seen all the movies multiple times (even the ones I hate I’ve seen more than once), and I consider Michael Myers bae, but that’s a whole other conversation for another day. 

I’ve seen Halloween Ends three times. Normally, I do a short review of the movie and post it on my Facebook page for my friends. But I wasn’t able to do that because I have so many feelings regarding this movie. I loved 2018, and was okay with Halloween Kills. I knew going in to keep my expectations within a particular range, and even with that caveat, I was sorely disappointed.

Let me say this: Halloween ended. It fucking ENDED. There is no disputing that. Michael can’t come back from THAT. And let me say this: Somebody will reboot the series in five years, and I will be in the theater when that happens. 

Having said all that, spoiler alert.

When Reality Hits...

When I was researching information about my current destination, I found a lot of blogs that described this place as relatively okay for women, as long as they're aware of the rules and restrictions.  The emphasis was placed mainly on hobbies and activities, as this part of the world is severely lacking in entertainment and a lot of women are here as trailing spouses for hubbies who work for the oil companies (and thus, don't have to work).  A lot of this info loosely translated to single women, but at the time, I could not find any definitive information on what life is like for singletons.

Here is the pure, unadulterated truth...and if I'd come across this information in my research, my decision to come here would have been quite different.

1.  Western women are assumed to be whores and will accept any man's advances, be they wanted or not.  A man actually said to me, "You're American and you're a woman...why not?"

Damn! Another One???

This will be brief.

Apparently, there’s another show on TV with a sistah heading the cast…as some man’s jump-off.  I’m not going to belabor the point, as you guys already know how I feel about this.  This network side-hoe trend that began with Scandal, continued with Deception (a show that was gratefully canceled after one limp-dick season), and is now manifesting with Being Mary Jane needs to die quick, fast and in a hurry.  It’s not cool.  And while I love the idea of sistahs starring in their own prime-time shows, I do not care for it coming at the expense of their integrity or sexuality.  This has got to stop, but until the ratings for shows like Scandal or BMJ (Deception suffered from a plethora of problems in addition to using Meagan Good as a Lure) drop into the negatives, it won’t. 

*sigh*

What is wrong with giving us a 2014 rendition of Clair Huxtable?  Or even better, how about giving us a sistah protagonist who’s happily single, living her life, and doing her thing without being encumbered with complicated relationship issues?  What in the hell is so difficult about that?  It is a life, a reality that a great many of us choose without an eyelash of regret.  I remember fondly a show called Living Single, and my two favorite characters were Maxine Shaw (played by Erika Alexander) and Regine Hunter (played by Kim Fields).  Max was the best-dressed attorney on TV, and her goal was moreso about mooching food off her bff Khadijah (Queen Latifah) than getting boo’ed up.  And Regine, a conceited social climber, wanted to get wifed by a wealthy man who could take care of her.  There was also Khadijah’s cousin Synclaire (Kim Coles), who was in a healthy relationship with Overton, the building super.  I don’t recall any of those fabulous women choosing to be a sideline hoe, and I do recall Living Single lasting several seasons.  Why can’t we have a show like this again?  

Suggested Reading:  Bougie, Flawed & Immoral

This Thing I Hate

Y’all know I take the craft of writing seriously.  It is my default setting, my first job, the thing I’ll do whether I get paid for it or not.  It is not something I fuck around with.  Whenever the muse graces me, I respect and cherish her.  Members of my creative network do likewise with their gifts and their muses.  We do what we have to do to nurture our creative spirits because we’d rather be writing than anything else.

Noob and I had a conversation recently where she described such a situation, and the “author” told FB that “the novel’s done.”  Curious, Noob went to look and discovered that said “novel” was actually a short story, and it was for sale on Amazon for $2 or $3.  And apparently, the topic is one I’d consider to be weighty, but the writer of this…pamphlet…clearly didn’t treat it as such.  Noob cracked up laughing, and when she told me, I was offended…and I do not offend easily.

Note:  Any real writer knows that a novel is at least 50,000 words.

Whew! and Why???

It’s been a rough few weeks.  School’s been in a month and the grind over here is 180 degrees different from the grind I was used to in the States.  Now I’m in an ideal situation, so I’m not about to complain about any of the “troubles” I’m encountering.  What’s had to change is the way I deal with said issues, because discipline is simply not a problem here.  It isn’t.  The school can well afford to be elitist, but with the good comes the crazy.  For me, crazy is the complete lack of junk food to be found inside this institution.  There are no snack machines, no soda machines, no teacher’s lounge with goodies hidden inside, and not even a whiff of a school store that sells candy bars.  The lunches served consist of real food, good food, in proper portion sizes served on real plates with silverware.  Students drink water, tea, fresh fruit juices or Gatorade.  That’s it.

(Not to mention the sheer size of the campus, which forces me to exercise)

(I should also mention that there ain’t a hottie in the joint.  So depressing for soooooooooooooooooooo many reasons)

(There’s also the fact that everybody in the school is freaking married to each other [but don’t have same last names], and with the whole, “We’re all family” theme going on, I can’t help but insert a creepy incestuous subtext here)

Answering the Call

I’m a fan of The Read, a podcast featuring Kid Fury and his friend Crissle.  In this week’s episode, “Say No to Fuckboys,” Crissle stepped into the pulpit and preached a sermon dedicated to those sorry-ass men who are quick to criticize sistahs and talk about what we have to do and to be to be wifed.  I’ve touched on this in a previous post, but Crissle put everything out there on Front Street and called out each and every one of those men fuckboys.  If you have not heard it, take a few moments and get your life.  Skip to about 15 minutes from the end; they usually do their reads at the end of the podcast.  Crissle gave me so much life.

 

Like Crissle and millions of other women, I’m so damn tired of sorry men, especially walking fuckups, quick to tell us women what we have to do to meet their standards.  The key words here are “sorry men.”  Men who can’t keep a job for any number of reasons, men who have seven babies by eight different women, men who don’t have a place or car of their own, men who literally have nothing…these are the fools who feel like they can tell a woman who and what to be in order to be wifed…by them.  Whoo, lawd!

*fans self, rubs temples* Shit, I need a motherfuckin’ moment…

His Name is Prince

I just had to sit down and express the tiniest bit of unnecessary frustration at something that happened last week.  Apparently, at the Billboard Awards (something I don’t watch; in fact, I don’t watch ANY awards shows), some dumbass named Miguel (????) jumped across the stage and DDT’ed one female fan while simultaneously kicking another in the face.  There’s footage on YouTube, which was created just for this purpose.

Seen here:  Epic dumbassery in tight-ass white pants.

I heard about this foolishness on The Read, Kid Fury’s podcast.  Kid and Crissle read that idiot for blood, but then remarked on how Miguel thinks he’s Prince, or is trying to be the next Prince.

*sigh*

*facepalm*

The Jump-Off

I’m probably one of ten people in existence who don’t watch Shonda Rhimes’ latest smash hit TV show Scandal.  The only reason I don’t partake in the weekly national drama is this:  

I don’t like the fact that Olivia Pope is the President’s jump-off.

My friends tell me that it’s a great show and the writing is fantastic, as is the casting and all that.  That’s fine.  I love that Shonda’s got the nation by the ovaries and the balls and loving every second of it, but I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that a Sistah Supershero is nothing more than the President’s side dish.  She deserves better.

My friends tell me that it doesn’t matter; they’re really in love, Fitz adores Olivia, he’s pussywhipped all to be damned, he can’t breathe without her…yada yada yada.  She’s nothing more than his whore and she deserves better.

The Futility of Commitment

I haven’t done a post like this in quite some time, but it doesn’t mean that I haven’t had anything to say in regards to women and relationships.  There’s been a lot going on, and I’ve had the misfortune to be front row and center.

Relationships are hard.  Whether one is married or committed in another way, it’s damned hard, and having kids complicates matters exponentially.  Too many women I know have experienced the dissolution of their relationships within the past year, and the SO’s modus operandi appears to be the same:

“I don’t want this relationship anymore.”

“I’m tired of being married.”

“I need to go find my happiness elsewhere.”

“I’m ready to move on.”

And with each instance, the woman is devastated by the news.  For three of them, it was out of the blue, and for the fourth one…it’s been going on for a smooth eight years; he’s just been keeping her in limbo.

What F*ckery Is This?

Over At the Bar, there’s a post by Renee of Womanist Musings describing some new weight-loss gadget that I know is going to cause a shitstorm of problems for many.  Apparently, you can pump your own stomach now.  I can’t go into much detail about this utter bit of fuckery; just click on the link and read this madness for yourself.

...And This Shit Right Here!

I don’t deal with politics.  I’m not interested in debating with anyone who should be president and why.  No one can convince me to vote for anybody other than the candidates themselves.  I’m not going to try and convince anyone else.  I show my support by taking my black ass to the polls.  This post isn’t designed to do anything but bring attention to something I find appalling.  I can’t sit back and not speak on this.

My Last Nerve

I have to get this off my chest, because it's getting on my last nerve.

Why is it that when I put certain search terms into the Google image omnibox, I get hits that have absolutely nothing to do with said terms?

For instance, I typed in "black female hairstyles" and images of white women came up.  I typed in "black woman black man love" and white people came up.  I typed in "black female actresses" and white women came up.  Anytime I try to do an image search on anything black female-related (and I try to be as specific as possible in my search terms), white women always comes up.  Can anybody explain to me why that is???  Because it's starting to piss me off.

Search terms:  "black female hairstyles"

Some results:

Try it for yourself if you think I'm bullshitting.  These women aren't black and so they can't possibly rock a black hairstyle.  They're blondes, so the terms "black" and "hairstyle" don't apply.   I mean, can we have something all to ourselves????

/rant over.