My Letter Too Santa

Dear Santa,

I know you’re busy checking your list, checking it twice, finding out who’s naughty and who’s nice. For the most part I’ve been nice.Ok, maybe I've been naughty a few times, but just a few .Hey a girl’s got needs. All and all I’ve been a very good girl and I want to kiss my perfect lover under the mistletoe. I’m a thirty year old woman whose last boyfriend was in high school …yes high school. Oh sure I’ve done the back and forth with a few emotional unavailable men/i.e. The Titan, but let’s face it the shit is getting old. I mean I looked long and hard, I’ve even searched far and wide. I had a few chats with God but all he seems to do is kindly remind me of his number best seller (the bible) quoting scriptures. Don’t get me wrong I love the Lord but he’s not really hearing my cry. So you’re my last hope. Look I’m not asking for much just the following 100…



1.A Man of God
2. Loyal
3. Loving
4. Honest
5. Humble
6. Faithful
7. Patient w/me
8. Forgiving
9. Fun Personality
10. Always a gentleman
11. Empathetic
12. Romantic
13. Creative
14. Strong
15. Courageous
16. Masculine
17. Positive/ Even Keel
18. Motivating
19. Brave
20. Peaceful
21. Funny
22. Confident
23. Well Respected
24. Respectful
25. Financially Wise
26. Wealthy / Smart Investor
27. Loves to travel
28. No Children
29. Sexy
30. Understanding
31. Slow to Anger
32. Agrees to disagree
33. Quite/ but not shy
34. Observant
35. Sexy Voice
36. Very Tall
37. Physically Fit
38. Great Cook
39. Team Player
40. Athletic
41. Nice Skin
42. Outgoing
43. Amazing Passionate Kisser
44. Affectionate
45. Wears nice cologne
46. Good relationship with his mom
47. Not a momma’s boy
48. Family Man
49. Have a good work /life balance
50. Never married
51. Ready for a serious relationship
52. Attends church with me
53. Believes in my dreams
54. Communicates well with others
55. Good Listener
56. Successful
57. Adventurous
58. Drug Free
59. Not an Alcoholic/ light drinker
60. Sports Fan/ Football being his favorite
61. Gives to others
62. Organize
63. Intelligent / Smart
64. Beautiful Eyes/ Captivating
65. All working limbs/ in good health
66. Mature
67. Good sense of humor
68. Not easily offended
69. Remember my birthday
70. Loves me for me
71. Laughs at my jokes/ even the bad ones
72. Homeowner
73. Not Judgmental
74. Strong/Good Work Ethic
75. Very calm
76. Great Credit
77. Gives me compliments
78. Likes to cuddle
79. Affectionate
80. Clean
81. Neat
82. Holds me while I sleep
83. Large Paint Brush
84. Colors well/ never stay inside the lines
85. Emotionally Stable
86. Beautiful Smile
87. Responsible
88. Gives me orgasms
89. African American
90. Stands up for himself
91. Gets along with my family
92. Reliable/
93. Sends me a dozen roses just because
94. Enjoys my company
95. Enjoys Football
96. Passionate
97. Focus
98. Determined
99. Loves all of me
100.Loves his job

Now Santa I know this may be a lot to ask for in a short amount of time. So just do what you can. I saw Terrance Newman of the Dallas Cowboys hold a baby a charity event once. Seem like a nice guy…so he’ll do (lol).
Til Next Year
Merry Christmas

Secret Lover Coloring

Being a woman in waiting at times can get hard. The longer the wait, the more desperate a single woman becomes. Not for love but coloring satisfaction. In our desperation we find ours shopping at toy stores more than Santa Clause shops for toys for children on Christmas day. A newly single woman starts off with a small toy to satisfy her coloring needs assuming that her little drought will soon be filled with wet orgasms. She eventually looks up and it’s been 6 months and she is once again at the toy store graduating too much bigger toys to play with. Then there’s the night where she realizes her battery operated vibrating devices have become her ultimate frustration and she is tragicly missing the crayons she once enjoyed coloring with. No longer caring about the day she’ll get married or if she’ll ever find “the one” she simply seeks out for a little fun and finds what I like to call a Secret Lover. He’s a secret because if her bible believing mother found out about behavior she’d go straight to hell on a scholarship (lol).

If I have described you in the previous paragraph have no fear I’ve been where you are and quite as it’s kept so has many other single women. So put your bogus battery operated devices in the night stand, go get your hair did, nails did, everything did, and get fancy! It’s time for you to shop for your very own Secret Lover. So what exactly is a “Secret Lover” I’m glad you asked. A secret lover is a man that you color with while waiting for Mr. Right. He is your good fix in disparate times and your fun escape from reality. To make sure you get all you can get for what it’s worth, I’ve decided to give you some guidelines before engaging in this experience.

1.He MUST be SINGLE in every way of the word. Meaning he’s only causally dating but nothing serious. I hear karma is a mutha so STAY AWAY FROM MARRIED MEN and men with a “live in”! Although you may feel like it’s not your problem because you’re not married, the truth is that it is your problem because you in fact are the problem. So if a guy tells you he’s in a relationship but it’s complicated, RUN! The idea of a secret lover is to have a little fun until Mr. Right is ready or comes along. Not too be a home wrecker.

2.Make sure your secret lover is a Mature and Respectful Adult. The whole point of this experience is to keep the booty calls a secret. Stay away from the 21 year old rookies that brag about their paint brush in the locker room and think the word lady has been replace with bitch. You don’t want strange men calling you because his dumb ass wrote your name and number on a bathroom stale, as a joke.

3.Make sure your Comfortable with and around him. He’s going to be painting your canvas. You’re not on a first date interview, relax. As long as you’ve taken care of your PTA (pussy, titties and ass) there’s nothing to worry about

4.There must be an ATTRACTION: Although the only thing you all share are late night creeps you shouldn't be terrified every time he turns on the bedroom lights.

5.Lastly, PROTECT YOURSELF. You are just practicing! No need to become a premature parent due to poor preparation. Also you don’t want to donate to AIDS awareness with a personal HIV story.

To my friend that is seeking a little TLC, follow these few steps and have yourself a good time. The whole point of having a secret lover is to enjoy hoe moments without being a hoe (lol).
Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Deciding Too Love The Warrior

Friday I was in a great mood. I confirmed my showcase coming up Friday December 10th; and I’ve been getting great reviews on the Conjure song I recorded for the new Ludacris cognac liquor. With all the good coming my way I figured I deserved to celebrate. So I met my friend Bizu at Kona Gill for happy hour only to find that she had some last minute shopping to do with her friend. I was not interested in window wishing and just decided to sit at Kona and wait for their return. I’m not sure if it’s was my new hairdo, my pretty face, or both but I attracted a group nice island gentlemen who kept me entertained with conversation until Bizu returned. The men were very generous and offered to buy a few too many drinks (lol).After happy hour the party continued. We hit up the Velvet Room, and a few other spots. I had a little liquid courage I did a little innocent flirty. As the night died down a guy friend of mine took me to my car. On the way to my car we talked about old times and how I thought he was just a great person. Out of nowhere he kissed me. I was shocked and thought he’s not a bad kisser, so we kissed again and the next thing you know we were all over each other. As we fogged up the windows I looked at him and right in the middle of our tongue of war I stopped. It was clear my thoughts were not on him, and I wish he were someone else (God he was right, he is in my way).

A few weeks ago the Titan told me he loved me at a night club bar in between patron shots. My response was, I’m moving to Atlanta. A few days later after contemplating on what he said I felt I owed him an apology for the part I played in our on and off again drama. After my apology he simply said he thinks he’s just going to get out my way. After my tongue of war Friday night I laid in my bed thinking to myself I just can’t keep fighting my heart and my feelings it’s killing me. My heart wins, therefore I decided accept how I feel and just love him. Love him for who he is nothing more nothing less. He is who I love.

So what does loving the warrior mean? Well for right now it means I continue to living my life. It means I stop living in denial and no longer worry about what’s to come of us and work through the process. It means I let go of the past and have faith for a better future. If I made a list and see if the good out weights the bad, I’m sure the bad would win but he wasn’t bad by himself. I want for us to one day be able to start a fresh start no long pointing the finger at each other but just allowing love to take its course. I know many will criticize my decision but I don’t care. Because loving him doesn’t cost me anything. By just accepting my loving him I find peace in my illogical thoughts. I have hope in the bleakest of times and warmth in my most frigid condition.

To my friend that is resisting love because it doesn’t make sense, know that it may never make sense and that’s when love counts. It’s easy to love the obvious but it’s most genuine regardless of the obvious.
Til Next Time
Lola

Conjure Cognac Presents Lola Natisa

Comforting For The Soul is a non-profit organization that provides for the elderly living in assistant living& nursing homes. On December 10,2010 Lola Natisa along with R&B singers Tre Bishop and Kreyn will be performing @ Tephejez Night Club. The reason for this event is to help collect and raise funds for socks and blankets as Christmas stocking stuffers this holiday season. In order to make this year a success we are asking all guest attending to donate $5 as a contribution to this great cause.
Lola Natisa is an awesome singer and dynamic performer. This is a show that you DON'T WANT TOO MISS!!! See you there

When Love Sucks

Love sucks! My heart wants to love an ass. What kills me is my brain is well aware that my heart’s love is not what I need in my life. For some strange reason my heart is determine to believe in the possibility of an impossible man. I believe the artist formally known as “Prince” has felt the very same way I am feeling now. This why I keep “I Hate You Because I love You” on repeat. My heart’s love is the never ending cycle of emotional term oil. My poor heart loves as if the past was never a reality. I know, I know, you’re probably reading and thinking Lola when are you just going to move on (funny I ask myself the same thing). I just don’t understand how in my love recovery how I can take two steps forward, only finding myself taking 10 steps back.

Sunday night I was unable to sleep and decided to tag along with my friends Daylon and T-White to a party at Club Plush. Being that it was a victory win for the Dallas Cowboys and Tashard Choice birthday I figured the crowd would be a black man’s heaven and a single black woman’s hell. To say the least there was enough groupie love to go around for all male attendees and one cat fight after another due to the male shortage. As for me I played it cool and watched the madness from a distance. Before entering a single woman’s hell, I prepared myself for any surprising run ins with the Titan. I told myself he’s just an accidental heart breaking crash that you’re successfully recovering from. This little peep talk was comforting until the doors open and we walked in onto the overcrowded dance floor. There he was dark chocolate, wearing a summer yellow polo sweater over a starched white collar shirt (Shit). The thing is he was supposed to look like the country boy I met three years ago from Georgia, not like the NFL sexiest man alive. Any way as we spoke and as I position myself to give him a Christian church hug he leans into me making for a “Oh Lola I’ve missed you hug” attempting to excite my private parts (damnit). He asked if I wanted a drink but I declined only to have him insist that we engage in just having one shot of patron. Since we’ve talked briefly prior too our run in I agreed on ONE shot. Standing at the bar while waiting on the star struck bar tendered, the Titans leans over and tells me how he appreciates my genuine concern during a rocky year. I told him he was welcomed and prayed that the bar tendered would stop drooling and hurry up with our damn drinks. As I took my glass saying thank you, out of nowhere the Titan leans over and says: I know you hate me but I love you. WHAT! Really he can’t be serious. I took a deep breath smiled and walked away. I couldn’t walk away fast enough. Just where the hell does he come off saying something like that. All this time I have been loving him and he…he has just been loving my revolving door that I can’t seem to keep the dead bolt on. Later that night I thought about those words and was unable to sleep.

I love the Titan like my life depends on it and I have no idea why. Days have passed and neither one of us have talked about it. I haven’t called because I just don’t want to face disappointment hoping like magic there‘s a happy ending to us being happily ever after. All I know is I leave Dallas in a few weeks and when I leave I’m leaving the past behind me, including him. I own my feelings and accepting where I am today with my hearts love for him. I won’t allow the unknown to control me. I don’t know what will come of the love the Titan spoke of. At this time I can only feed the love I have for me. What will be, will be with whomever it may be with

Til Next Time
Lola

Giving Me Another Chance

The Dallas Cowboys lost their first two games and miraculously won their third game right before their bye week. Things looked really promising having lost the first two games and win the third game. That is until games 4,5,6,7, and 8 ended in tragedy. Then out of nowhere huge mistakes turn in to a beautiful miracle and the game against the NY Giants gave them a victorious win. It was quite rewarding to see the number one NFC- East defense walk off their own field disappointed. The Dallas Cowboy flaky fans got back on the bandwagon, while the faithful fans started to gain hope believing that finally there is a God! My dad just shook his head saying: now watch these mutha f#ckers be a wild card in the playoffs. As for me, my thoughts were simple…if at first you don’t succeed fire your head coach and try, try again (lol). With assurance and confidence in my boys in blue I watched Monday night football and saw Michael Vick score two touchdowns in the first half and thought damn we’re in trouble (smh).

I recently got a job offer that would require me to move back to Atlanta. I would pretty much be making the same amount of money I am making in Dallas. I can also transfer my part time job in Dallas to Atlanta to make extra money. I talked to my friend Daylon and asked him what I should do. He said: Grow up kid, make a list of the pros and cons and go from there. Annoyed with his answer and considered firing him as my friend (lol) I put on my grown up panties and did just that. Here’s what I came up with: The only thing I would miss about Dallas is my family, my church family, and a few friends. Going to Atlanta I would be able to audition more for play and film productions, do more credible showcases, a better social scene (believe it or not but I dated more in Atlanta with no worries of the “down low issues” plus if my vagina could talk right about now it would say: enough already with the false coloring go get us a painter with a big brush…lmao). My fear however is I’ve tried to “make it” in Atlanta” and have failed miserably what would make going back out there any different. To be honest I would love to be a huge star but I’ve tried and I’m ok with just having put forth the effort. So with a lot of thinking and this time praying I’ve decided to go back and unleash myself to the wolves yet again (lol). The only way I would permanently stay in Dallas is if I was in a serious relationship with my love list and close to marriage. I could marry at this point of my life with no regrets. I’ve put my very best foot forward and given the hateful world of entertainment my all. I am now ready to be a house wife, shopping at Karen Millen and donating my time to “Kim Kares” (think I’m lying…try me). So if any knows Terrance Newman let him know I am available, ready willing to cook, clean and color(lol)…if not I will be heading out of here January 5th for the A.

My entertainment career has been a little like this year’s season for the Dallas Cowboys. It started off with high hopes; some disappointing loses with a few good wins in the middle. The Dallas Cowboys can’t give up and die neither can I. I’ll go back to Atlanta, give my very best and if I come up with a few loses in the meantime I won’t make coming home an option. I will only visit. I’ll just do like America’s team and keep going. I am bound to succeed eventually. Who knows maybe my blogs will become self-absorbed and superficial (my first hater commented I was blogging improperly…I’m just glad I have a hater. It means I doing something interesting)

To my friend that has been given a second, third, fourth, or even a tenth chance at something you love. Take it! I’m taking mine. If we fail at least we tried…and getting up won’t be so hard this time.

Till Next Time
Simply Lola

Getting My Shit Back

My mother absolutely hates it when I go in her closet and steal her shoes. She lets me know that her shoes are for her and she wants them back. In my defense I believe I am the creator of the fashion forward woman she is today and I think the least she should do is share what I have introduced her too …fabulous shoes. Once I’ve returned her Christian Louboutins the air is clear and we’re back to the loving mother, daughter relationship. As a single woman I think about the men I’ve encountered in my life and how a few of them I have blamed for taking some things from me that I want back. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could just walk up to an old ex boyfriends door, ring the door bell and demand for our shit back. I sure wish I could. If I could, I would walk right up to their front door with a box, labeled My Shit. When the door opened I would politely walk in (not waiting for an invitation) and say this:

Hey, how are you? You look good. Listen I don’t want to bother you but it seems to me that you took some stuff that belongs to me and I want it back. You have my heart and simply did absolutely nothing with it but break it and now there’s whole in my chest. I didn’t realize it was missing until I met a really great guy I was unable to love. You also have self-esteem and self- confidence. I noticed it was missing when I looked in the mirror and saw a lifeless look in my eyes. Smoky eyes are in for the fall season; unfortunately I look more like I’m smoked out (Halloween is over and I can’t keep scaring myself). If you don’t mind I would like my canvas back too. Oh yes, you know that thing you use to poke me with, don’t get me wrong the strokes were great but we both know you’re no longer worthy of beating my back in anymore. Oh no I’m not bitter, just ready to move on with my life and stop wishing for you too actually change, see me for the great woman I am, and love me. With a big smile I would end: I’m sure you’re busy with your next victim so if you’d just place everything I came for in this box (labeled my shit) I’ll be on my way. Thanks so much.

The sad thing is I’m sure he’ll call the police and put in for a restraining order because he has no earthly idea what I’m talking about. As far as he’s concerned he didn’t break my heart or take my self-esteem/self confidence. He was just having a good time. Who knew his heatless acts would lead to the death of a beautiful woman. He was only doing whatever it took to color as much as he could with a woman he thought was kind of cute. Therefore I’d leave like I came over… with an empty box and probably in hand cuffs (lol)

My mother’s shoes are easily given back to her from me. My stuff however hasn’t been easily given back to me simply because I’ve been looking in the wrong place. All this time I’m thinking he (them, they) had my stuff. I’ve been blaming him (them, they) for not moving on. My broken heart, the heart breaker isn’t responsible for mending the pieces back together. My self –esteem self-confidence wasn’t taken from me. I surrendered it at the mercy of fear of being alone. As far as my canvas it’s still there, but every time I look at it, it reminds of how I felt when the good times were over (like a jump-off). He, them, they don’t have my stuff to give back to me. My stuff is still with me. The only thing he, (them, they) did was shit all over it. The only cure for a shitty life is to take a shower. No sense of smelling like my dreadful past, it will only make living day to day stink.

To friend that is blaming him, (them, they) on taking your stuff, news flash they aint got it. You and I got our stuff with us. We just got to stop wishing the smell would go away without washing it way. So get in the shower and lather up. Close your eyes take a deep breath in and exhale out. As the water starts to run down the painful parts of what’s hard to forget, think about how it’s finally over and a new life for you and I is starting to smell refreshing. Nothing changes over night but with one wash at time the true beauty of you and I will be restored.

Till Next Time
Simply Lola

My Dating Status: Not Even to First Base

I have recently have opened myself up to the world of optimistic dating. In other words I’m trying to not judge a book by its cover or bank account. I thought I would let you all in on just how I’ve been doing.

Bachelor #1: Million Dollar Boy
I have a part time job at the mall and I met a very cute rookie who uses text messaging as his first form of communication. All the words are abbreviated and most of the sentences are incomplete. I’ll be the first to admit to anyone I am not the best speller but this brotha is out of control. The gold-digging whore in me is determine to figure out a way to make things work with the Million Dollar Rookie, but the self respecting lady side of me is well aware that the only thing this 12 year boy will be able to complete is a few color sessions and who’s to say our colors wont clash. The Self Respecting Lady trumpets over the Gold Digging Whore (lol). We haven’t been on a date but I’m pretty sure the only thing we’ll have in common is his losing team and that’s not even worth talking about. I think it’s time for me to just say good bye now before Gold Digging Whore starts to make her case to Self Respecting Lady (lol).

Bachelor #2: He’s Hiding Something
I met him at the Drake after party this past Sunday. He’s just a few years younger than me. He has a decent job but again his perfect form of communication is through text messaging as well. He’s short but cute (from what I can remember). So here’s the red flag, this dude only texts me late at night or early in the morning. I thinking he’s got a live-in or he’s married…and how do I know this. Well I’m thirty and have dated enough to know when someone is hiding something…the game aint changed just the stupid men that continue to play it with the same rules (he should do better). Never the less I don’t have time to stick around to find out just what it is he very well maybe hiding.

Bachelor #3: Cry Baby
We met a few weeks ago at the new Addison Restaurant “Buttons”. All I can say is he soooooo emotional. He’ll call and if I don’t call back in the time frame he’s expecting, he wines about it. OMG, I am a single woman with no children and my nipples are not for grown titty babies. I mean get a life and chill out. He got mad at me because he asked me how I was doing. I replied I’m good and then he starts crying about why I didn’t ask him how he was doing. Apparently you’re not doing well if you’re crying on the phone. I’ve always wanted a child of my own, and not someone else’s (tragic just tragic). Its clear this man wasn’t loved as a child or as an adult.

So three guys and no one has even made it to first base, let alone stepped out of the dugout. As much as I want to be pissed off and just throw my hands up saying the hell with this, I won’t give up. Plus,I can't take these guys stragedy for dating personal, that would be stupid. They only do what works for them. I know all men are not twelve year old, million dollar sneaky cry babies (lol).I believe there’s still a few good ones left somewhere around here. I have learned how not to ignore warning signs or red flags and keep it real with myself at all times. So I’ve decided to move forward and not wear a frown.However I found it refreshing that all three men thought me working two jobs was cool, and no one had a problem with the fact that I don't have a car (whew, what a relief) Now God bring on the next group of lovely painters, and hurry my vibrator broke (lol) Amen

Til Next Time
Lola

Men Are Like Buses

Men are like buses; if you miss one just wait to catch another. I have no idea who started this saying .It has got to be the dumbest statement known to all single women. Why in the world would anyone want to catch a bus? I hate catching the bus. The seats are hard, and just this morning the bus I caught, caught on fire (tragic just tragic). Nothing about a bus or catching the bus sounds like a dream come true or my idea of a dream lover. There all kinds of people on the bus. First there’s Paul and Peter (bible character look a likes) sitting at the back with their long white beards freaking the normal passengers out. Then you got the single mother of six kids who find a way to occupy every seat on the bus. Her and her kids are either sitting in empty seats or jumping from seat to seat. All I want to do is yell “Lady birth control, please use it, your kids are killing us”. Lastly, there’s always a homeless man that smells funny wearing an out dated jersey from an NFL team that no longer exist carrying bags of empty soda cans and talks to himself aloud distracting everyone from their own thoughts. . Plus they‘re huge and unattractive vehicles that seem to have a delay when you need them to be on time. To compare a bus to a man would be saying he’s always late, unattractive with a creepy past, bastard children and crazy thoughts that he has no problem telling you on a first date. Now that I think about it maybe some men are like buses. I still don’t think if I miss one I should get on the next one. I mean if I’m going to wait for something big and long to pick me up I prefer it to be a black long stretch limo. There’s limited space for unnecessary baggage, and the smell of leather far out weights the smell of the homeless man.

Therefore I have come up with a new theory of my own for my single women friends. “If You Miss A Bus Jump In A Limo”. The seats are much smoother, there’s alcohol served and if you’re lucky the driver will have a paint brush that resembles the long, dark stiffness of the car. Plus coloring in a limo is so much sexier than screwing on a bus (lol).

To my friend that feels like she keeps missing the bus, please stop waiting on the next one to come along. You deserve your own personal driver and comfortable seats 

Til Next Time
Lola

Holding My Confidence Hostage

When the question is asked to a man “What makes a woman sexy?” a variety of answers are thrown into the atmosphere. Some suggest sexy is a natural beauty wearing very little too no makeup. An old man on the bus once told me his old lady got the pretties damn hairy legs he had ever seen (lol). There are men that love women with long curly hair while other men find a bold short hair cut stands undeniably sexy. It’s obvious that the preference for a man varies but there is one thing that all men love more than anything and that is the way a woman wears her confidence.

For the past week or so I have been doing a lot of day dreaming about this guy I’ve only met a few times. I found myself day dreaming so much I asked my friend Tish if it were normal to be so involved with my imagination. She told me that it was perfectly normal and that three years prior to her meeting her fiancé she would lie in her bed envisioning him, from how he looked to how he dressed, she would even think about different fights that they would have. I was relieved that I wasn’t the only person who had a secret obsession with someone who I barely knew and didn’t need to be committed to the physic ward (lol). Later in the week we had dinner just to catch up and she insisted I tell her all about my dream lover, so I did. I talked with excitement about how he loves me and how everything moves fast but the timing is right. I told her how he thinks I’m funny, loves me for me and he is very secure in our relationship. Tish was listening like a good friend should, encouraging me that he will come just as I have envisioned him. I agreed with a smile but the truth is that in as much as I feel the love of this man I have briefly met a few times, I’m just not confident that I will be what he wants ( I know, I’ve just contradicted my day dream). For some reason as soon as I am out of my fantasy I start thinking of all the reasons why I just may not be good enough for him. It’s mostly thoughts of past mistakes and things I can’t change, yet I still beat myself up about them. It’s as if I’m hold what’s most beautiful about me hostage.

Rejection is part of life but no matter how many times I have been rejected it has never gotten easier. It’s never been something I could get use too. It seems as though with every dismissal, I hold on to the devastation. I somehow have buried the beauty of myself under a lot of hurt and heartache. I question how someone can love someone that has been rejected so much. I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’m not likeable because my past loves didn’t like me but I never thought about if I liked me…hmm …do I like me? I wasn’t sure, so I made a list of all my good and all my bad. I put that I was funny, and loyal on the good side. I put things like I bite my nails,I'm a terrible speller I have this one roll around my stomach I can’t seem get rid of and I tend to talk a lot. I even wrote on the bad side about the time I lied and told the Titan I was deathly ill just to get his attention (not so good). The more I started to see that I wasn’t so bad and I was worth loving the lover in my day dream. Then it hit me I’ve been holding who I am hostage in fear. Fear that my silly flaws would out shine the great things about me.

The man I day dream about is a man that I have met a few times but I have manage to embarrass myself in front of him some kind of way every time. The last time I saw him it was at a party with open bar and I kindly took his drink out of his hand drank what I thought was alcohol but turned out to be much needed water (lol). To be honest I don’t even know if this guy actually is anything like I’ve created him to be because I don’t know him well enough to draw the conclusion. What I do know is that whether this guy is my Mr. Right or not I don’t want keep myself from whomever maybe just for me.

We often hold our confidence hostage because we are not comfortable with our past. Listen my friend I have done some pretty dumb things all in the name of love. Confidence isn’t perfection. Confidence is owning up to everything in your life and then just saying “Damnit this is me…this is who I am. The past isn’t who you are nor is it who I am. It’s simply part of what makes us great. The more we (you and I) hold on to what hurts the deeper we bury the precious treasures of what makes us who we are. I don’t know the day or time that my day dreamer and I will meet again but when it happens I will be wear my very sexy confidence.

Till Next Time
Simply Lola

Week One/For The Love Of Me (Tony Gaskins)

I enrolled in a class called “4 The Love of Me” taught by Tony Gaskins (he’s the motivational speaker that was on Oprah promoting his relationship book “What Daddy Didn’t Tell His Daughter”). Anyway anyone who knows me knows that I am so against the “how to get a man” books and seminars. I hate them because men don’t join classes or read books about women they just take what they can get at the time they can get it, so my argument is if men are not so pressed to figure us (women) out why are we so pressed to figure them (men) out. I joined the class because I am a young beautiful talented woman of 30 who is having less coloring action than an unhappy married couple of ten years(lol). I knew it was really bad when I was watching the Jets play Denver on Sunday and I found myself wondering what defensive linemen had the larger cups (Don’t judge me). Something has got to give. I also signed up for this class because I have yet to be in a serious committed relationship and that is what I want at this point in my life. I guess one could say I am kind of like the Dallas Cowboys, I to want know what I need to do in order to score(lol).My fear is that I meet a man I really like and see myself getting serious with, we go out, I enjoy his company and conversation, and the next thing ya know I am all over him because I’m so excited that I finally I like a painter that I want to share my canvas with. I guess I just don’t want to move to fast. Lastly, I want to make sure I am being realistic about what type of man I wanted to be part of my life.

The first class took place on last Wednesday. The class is given by conference call at 9pm Eastern time, and last about an hour. There were about 40 women on the call. I logged in with excitement, high hopes with the expectations of getting all the questions as to why I am not coloring with my love list answered. My pen and pad was ready! The conversation started off with Mr. Gaskin talking about the importance of expectations and what should be mandatory on a woman’s love list. He said we should except the obvious… love, respect, and some other stuff. He talked about the warning signs of a man that goes out to much means that he is not a committed man, a man that curses can equal to a violent man (now I am not sure about the cursing because I know sometimes I can have a potty mouth and as long as he’s not cursing me out and calling me out of my name I don’t mind if he says “shit” if he smashes his finger in the door, or if we’re getting hot and heavy). Of course the man should be a man of God (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah) the usually, and that was it. Yep that’s all folks. Everything I’ve heard before, not what I was expecting (tragedy). He did welcome us to ask questions or make statements if we had any. There was quick silence and then a few women had the same response saying, we’ve heard this stuff before, DAMNIT WHERE IS MY MAN. It felt good to know I wasn’t the only woman that was sexually and emotionally frustrated. As for me I felt like I’ve been going by the “book” only wanting to throw the book in the trash and give the author the middle finger. It’s like do this , do that, don’t do this, don’t do that and still wondering what do I do to get what I want. I am all for self love and self pleasing but my vibrator is broke and my hands have become very boring. Oh sure I can color like men (I call them hoe moments) but my secret lover moved away and got married. Plus there comes a time in the most promiscuous girls life where she just wants to be seen as pretty damn cool the morning after while the gentle man next to her hums Andre 3000(The Morning After)

To sum up the first conference class, all I can say is it was nothing but what I’ve heard before. I am however going to stick it out for the next six weeks and see what happens. I wish I could tell you that I hung up the phone revived and motivated, but instead I was still hungry for my very own painter to color and have engaging complimenting conversation with. However it felt good to know at I wasn’t the only woman desperate with great expectations. To my friend who is in search for answers on how to attract a man, a new career, or just change and feel like you’ve heard it all before and tired of going by the book. Don’t worry you’re not the only one. Sometimes knowing you’re not alone is a better feeling that having the answers you may be searching for.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Not Sure Whats Missing

The Dallas Cowboys successfully did it again, they lost (tragic just tragic). Not only did they lose but they lost the same way they lost their last game, penalties, penalties, penalties and interceptions. Fingers are being pointed at the coach, the general manager and the owner (who happens to be the general manager). It’s a relief for wide receiver Roy Williams knowing that the fingers are no longer being pointed at him. All he needed was a visual of how his slippery hands were about to slide him out of job by the rookie Des Bryant. Now he’s catching everything that is coming his way. He has defiantly proven to the Cowboy fans that he is worth every dime he is getting paid, which is why I can’t understand why he has made such a horrible investment in his wardrobe. In the locker room after the game he was interviewed by a few sport reporters and well I was so distracted by his poor choice of clothing that I couldn’t focus on his comments to the questions that were asked. I mean it looked like he went shopping in an old fat mans closet, and those choice of colors (HOT MESS) absolutely did nothing for his skin tone. If I knew him well I would burn that tacky tie he thought was tasteful. It is a tragedy to look fantastic on the field and frightening off the field. Brady James had a similar fashion problem once up on a time but he manage to marry someone whose fashion forward, dressing him well enough to convince the world that “real men wear pink”(lol)nice tie. Marcus Spears interviewed like he had just finished preaching three services although he just finish playing four quarters( my dad is a preacher, and after he preaches he has the gloss look, but Spears suit was a nice look). I can see Spears as a good Reverend with Jason Hatcher as the elder of his church (lol) but for right now they make for good teammates. The way Spears responded to the reason why his team is losing made me a believer that things can very well turn around. He didn’t deny their silly mistakes but he spoke with great confidence that he and his teammates will do whatever it takes in order to turn a tragic season into triumph. I caught the last of Terrance Newman, he wore a classic button down with caramel v-neck sweater which was very complimenting to his complexion, his interview was my favorite of all. He said “We have talent, there is no doubt about that but it takes more than talent to win”.

Last night after a long travel from Prairie View A&M homecoming (OMG un be weave able experience) I laid down and thought about what it does it really take to win. Everyone who knows me knows that all I have ever wanted to do in my life time is sing, just sing great music and be with my love list. As a singer with nowhere to sing and dateless in Dallas I wonder what is it that I am missing. I believe got good coloring talent, I’ve never had a painter find my fundamentals of creating explosive art disappointing, and I’m well rounded. I can sang no doubt about that, in fact I gave Clark Atlanta University $80,000 just to make sure I was properly skilled with using my musical talent. I have recorded several demos, opened my mouth for countless open mics all over the city, hell I’ve moved from one city to another, and the list can go on and on and on. I know my love list is only a blueprint of my ideal lover and I have kept an open mind but really do I have to settle for the 35 year old divorcee with a receding hair line who is still pissed that his ex-wife got to keep the dog in the settlement. I have a passion for music like I have a passion for pure unconditional love. My desire to sing is as deep as my desire to kiss a man that loves me just for me and with all this strong desiring passion I find myself very pissed off. At this point I am suppose to deliver a profound revelation on what’s missing from my life that keeps me from winning my life’s race, but I don’t have one. All I can say is that I have grown tired of looking at the problem and have decided to just close my eyes take a deep breath and believe that just when I stop looking things will suddenly will change.

No one really knows why the Cowboys are not at their best right now, even they have no idea. One thing is for sure pointing fingers and being pissed off doesn’t make for a win. It is at times like these when the answer isn’t so obvious. We have to walk away from our loses, close our eyes, take in a deep breath and expect change to come while we’re not looking.

To my friend that just can’t understand why all has been lost with all your hard work don’t be discourage. Have the determination of the defensive lineman/future Reverend Marcus Spears and the understanding of Terrance Newman, know that you have what it takes and discover what’s missing. Just when you throw up your hands because you’re at a lost, believe that things will change when you’re not looking.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

The Dallas Cowboys From A Girls Point of View

The Dallas Cowboys/ From A Girls Point of View
When it comes to love and relationships men and women are very different especially when we’re talking about “coloring”. If you’re a single woman like me whose coloring activity is a rare form from time to time usually will engage in adult activity with very high expectations. To have our painter of choice be disappointing after a dreadful long drought is just unacceptable especially for the first night more importantly unforgivable and tragic just tragic. There is absolutely no way we can forgive foul play when four play was requested (lol). Thankfully men are more understanding and a little more sensitive to fundamentals of coloring. A woman can be deader than a tree limb on the first night of exotic exploring and a man will be the gentleman and simply will blame it on the alcohol. Never turning down the second night because he knows everyone can have an off night and will proceed with an open mind. If she still can’t seem to rise to the expectations of a powerful painting performance he will make a few suggestions, take some time off and look forward to round three, four, and even five. Men are so positive in coloring cases they firmly believe that three times may not very well be the charm. Never the less they will work hard on building the right chemistry to properly color. We as  women know that he as a fan of her canvas (just because she’s got one…no more nothing less) he will be more than glad to participate in painting outside the lines because he has successfully showed patience. Let’s be honest, in situations like these one must be determine to find a way or make a way to cum correct (lol). He is determine to make failures into favorable memories the man usually sparks the flame that electrifies compatible chemistry. The result of thid is both man and woman will perfectly perform four play with no signs of foul play, painting a performance of passion and pleasurable pleasing. I find that the male’s method can very well be related to the Dallas Cowboys tragic start for this season.

There has been so much hype about the Dallas Cowboys, the Super Bowl, and the Dallas Cowboys playing in the Super Bowl. It’s clear the home team would not only want to be the host of Super Bowl XLV but also be the home team playing, but with a 1-3 record Doubting Thomas’s has risen its ugly head. The Cowboys take on the Minnesota Viking and many faith fans are just unsure if “Five Times Is A Charm”. After losing to the tacky Titians, the barely making it(Chicago Bears), and a lost to wishful wonderers (Washington Redskins) many faithful fans have decided to fall out as the 12 man on the field.

Being that I am Dallas Native and a huge fan of the boys in blue (Dez Bryant is my favorite, he wears Uncle Drew's number 88) I have decided to take the attitude of the forgiving man. The first time was a little rocky, the second game loss was just poor preparation and the third was just lack of focus, but that doesn't mean the end can’t be better than the beginning. With all the media discussions, unauthorized coaching by fans, several play reviews, locker room long talks, and power forcing practicing I’m sure they will manage to make negative numbers transform into a positive play performances.

To my friend who once was a fellow fan I encourage you to not hold the grudge of the single women with minimal patience for disappointing coloring performance. Be more like the forgiving men who knows that everyone has an off game or two, hell even three every now and again. Just because the start is a little rooky doesn’t mean the ending will be dreadful. Have the gentlemen’s attitude, when a woman’s canvas seems a little dry, or her picture resembles a boring stick figure, he doesn't put her out the game. He finds a way to moisturize what is dry, adding red rose to her cheeks as she basks in enjoying a beautiful painting performance…I think it’s called chemistry. All The Cowboys need is a spark to light the flame of chemistry. Good Chemistry produces positive productivity...WIN

Till Next Time
Simply Lola

Going Unnoticed

Going Unnoticed
Due to some very expensive car issues I have found myself back on the bus (tragedy). In as much as I hate being back on the bus it feels good to know that (Karen) the morning bus driver is glad to see me, and Stanly the afternoon bus driver finds my smile refreshing. I now have a temp assignment at match.com and without being on their dating site I managed to land two dates last week. I’m thinking it’s my auar from match that made a few good matches for me (I know, corny…lol). I had stopped agreeing to go on dates for a while because I found it very embarrassing to say well I don’t have a car can you pick me up, and if the guy picks me up for a date and it begins to take a turn for the worse, there’s nowhere to run. I’m sure I could jump up from the table while having dinner and just run out the restaurant screaming he’s crazy, he’s crazy but no matter how weird or freakish I may think my date is I would still be the crazy woman that ran out the restaurant(not a very good lasting impression to leave on the first date). Anyway the first guy was short, nice hair and about 5 years older than me. We hookup after work for dinner and had a few drinks. We talked for about three hours, and yes we talked (we both had a fair share of conversation to exchange). We didn’t have much in common but we compared notes with our dislike and likes of what neither one of us knew about. I left with my belly full and my body a tad bit tipsy but very clear that I was onto the next. Bachelor #2 was cool I had more in common with him. He was much taller, but no spark( I know the author of “He’s Just Not That Into You” say men invented the “spark” )but I never had a desire to see his paint brush or show him my canvas(lol). I guess it was poor play execution of the “spark”. I’m not sure why, Daylon said it’s my shallow side taking over, but what does he know, I have one dream about Terrance Newman and now I’m considered only liking the bold, black and handsome guy…ok so maybe that’s true …don’t judge me  . Bachelor #2 and I saw “Social Network” and agreed to disagree on our conclusions of the movie. He felt the main character (Facebook Inventor) was arrogant and I felt like he was very good at figuring out a way to no longer be in this world unnoticed. Now after many lawsuits and broken friendships I’m sure he didn’t realize the sacrifice was one that would make him out to be a young wealthy asshole who still struggles with getting laid. Never the less both guys are good guys and are making great friends.

My friends Reggie and Daylon are always saying how I need more friends and I should be proactive about meeting people. Well I took their advice and found some new friends who love to sing and think I am absolutely the cutest thing they’ve ever met. However they have no desire to conform to the likeness of my canvas. My new hanging buddies are three fun feisty gay men. My friend Kim ( who introduced me to the trio) and I met up with them at this new place called Buttons in Addison and listened to live music and criticized the poor unfortunate souls with bad weaves and wardrobes. While we were listening to the sounds of the untitled band I remember running into a few people I knew and them asking me would I be singing that night. With disappointment on their faces and frustration in my heart as I told them no I started to feel annoyed and question when will the day come that I am no longer unnoticed. Before I could become emotionally involved in my thoughts one of my new fabulous friends said something funny about a dreadful un be weaveable situation. Later that night while I was getting ready for bed I realized that there was no reason to be frustrated about not having the attention I so desired because the next morning at 7:30am there were going to be at least twenty people just waiting to hear me sing and my cousin Joanne will be there encouraging me with every smile.

In this life we all want more. We want to be recognized for who we are and what we do. There are days that seem like we are all alone and all that we’ve strived for is in vain. Sometimes we have to stop thinking about what we don’t have and realize just what we do have. In as much as I want to be noticed by Terrance Newman and Warner Brother Records I am thankful that I have been recognized by few good men, faithful members of my dad’s church and my big cousin Joanne Thompson.

So to my friend who has yet to be noticed by the man of your dreams and properly promoted to the position that you desire, don’t dwell on who hasn’t recognized you but appreciated the few good people that have manage to notice just who are and what you have to offer, loving every bit of you.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Contradicting Wants and Wishes

Last month, my friend Crystal suggested we read the book “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert before seeing the movie. I dragged my feet with purchasing the book but manage to honor my commitment. When I first started reading the book I was very confident I was not going to enjoy it. I'm a black woman who has never been married and is still making strides to get my career off the ground. This book was about a white woman who managed to always find herself in a relationship with a man, whose career as a writer seemed very successful. Now what on earth were we going have in common? The book started off talking about how she no longer wanted to be married and was looking for value in her life. As the book went on she was caught in the middle of a divorce and in love with a young actor (DRAMA). Again what the hell did I have in common with this woman? She’s in between two men and I am between two pillows and a battery operated device (lol). She seems to be very successful at coloring and writing about it. Me! Well I seem to be very successful at writing about not coloring (tragedy). As I am reading the book it’s taking everything out of me to not call my friend Crystal and tell her she’s on her own with this damn idea. All of a sudden I get to a place in the first chapter that triggers my interest and grabs my attention. The writer finds herself soul searching for answers. She starts meditating day in and day out and even attends these guru services with her younger lover. Guru services are like COGIC services but their hymns are much longer. As I’m reading I think to myself, if she were black her mother would just tell her to try Jesus (lol). In all her confusion and curiosity she asked herself “What Do I Want”. The only answer she could come up with was “I don’t know”. The more she asked herself this question the more she began to understand that what she wanted was contradicting with her mental wishes. The writer (Liz) wanted to enjoy her life in her own way and not in a way that related to someone else i.e. these relationships she keeps jumping in and out of.

Many months ago I made a love list of what type of man I wanted for myself in my life and at times I find myself only wishing for the Titan (who is clearly not my love list). When I think about what I want, and what I am wishing for I realize I am having some major contradictions going on in my thought process. How I can I want love, respect and honesty from a man who is a heartless liar. In order to receive what I want and have the life I want I must first be very clear. The first step for me was for me to be honest and just say …I have no earthy idea what I really want. I don’t know about anyone else but my mind goes back and forth. So to stop the mental race, I made a list of my wants, I really wanted to share my list but some people can be so curl and justify their cruelty as just being “real” or honest when they really are just negative people with no positive support. I will say this, my list of wants range from thing as big being signed to Warner Brothers to just having peace of mind. I have stuff on my list like being in a serious relationship to waking up every morning to workout. I even have wants for my friends, like my friend Monica; I want her to really click with someone that’s right for her, and my friend Jocelyn I really want her to find a wedding dress that she absolutely loves for a very good discounted price. My list is my start; it is my visual of what I desire to have for myself. When I get confused or feel off track I can go back to my list.

There’s a scripture in the bible (not sure where it is) that says you have not because you ask not, and then there is another one that says God will give you the desires of your heart (again not really sure exactly where that one is either, I know I suck as Preachers Kid right about now (lol) but to my friend who may be Christian or just plain ole spiritual the law of attraction is the same. There is no way you or me can get what we want if our mind can’t decide just what is best for us. To say I don’t know what I want is an honest start. After that the days ahead will become very clear on how we want to live and enjoy our life.
Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Playing Like A Jet

This year HBO Hard Knocks featured the New York Jets. They show the ups and downs in preparing for the 2010 football season. During one preseason game a veteran line man (never caught his name) made a profound statement to his team mates. He said the way to the Super Bowl is not one game at a time but one play at a time. It’s important that each player stay focus on what’s going on every moment of every play. The end goal is winning the Super Bowl but the main goal is winning every game.

The New York Jets are 2-1 not bad for a start; however when the news hit last week that super star wide receiver Braylon Edwards had a little too much hooch in his blood stream the future for him and his team look more unbearable than bright. This big upset over shadowed the perfect passes he caught and touchdowns he made in games one and two. It was as if the media said, let’s forget his success and just focus on his failures… what a great way to bring the team moral down (tragic just tragic). The media and a few fans were ready to hang Edwards on a cross and crucify him. I know the beard was a bit much and if you tilt your head to the right and squint your left eye he may resemble a black Jesus (I happen to think Jesus may have been rather sexy back in his day). Not to say I condone drinking under the influence of alcohol but let’s be honest more than likely all who consume alcohol have had a night of one too many drinks and if stopped by the police you to would have tragically failed the breathalyzer test. Many of us have made the same mistake, we’ve just been lucky enough not to get caught and have legalize tent on our car windows. It’s like the fatal pregnancy of the single woman that is talked harshly about in christen churches. Of course she’s heard of safe painting, but any woman whose colored will admit that sometimes the painter’s brush strokes can be a bit distracting and may cause both partners to live with their art work for 18 years (lol), but I digress. Braylon Edwards is a human being that made a huge mistake. The endless name calling and ruthless gestures for punishment I’m sure put a lot a pressure on the starting wide receiver. Yet in spite of the grueling media attacks Edwards manage to take a good look in the mirror and shave off his drunken mistake and start fresh. He sat out the first quarter against the Miami Dolphins. He didn’t let the bad press get to him and later caught a few passes, scored a touchdown, and did the dougie (lol) in game three. He kept his end goal in mind and mange to complete his main goal. I guess there must be something to playing like a Jet.

There is so much that can be learned from the headlines of the New York Jets. Many of us have personal Super Bowl goals, wither it is graduating graduate school, starting a successful business, or completing a creative idea. For me I’m a simple singer wanting my big break. My play book to complete my Super Bowl dream doesn’t consist of x’s and o’s but songs from my heart. My defense isn’t 11 huge men with helmets ready to sack me at the line a scrimmage (although depending on whose the nose guard is that may not be a bad idea…lol) but it’s more like huge mistakes that I’ve made that few people can forget or can’t forgive. Never the less I have to keep my end goal in mind and focus on each day one play at a time.

To my friend that is being beaten up by people that are reminding you of the mistakes that you’ve made I encourage you to have the attitude of the Jets. Follow the example of Braylon Edwards, you may not have a drunken beard to shave but an ingrown toe nail to cut or a dreadful weave to demolish. All and all take a good look in the mirror make the changes that need to be made and prepare to catch whatever comes your way. At the end of the day you’ll feel like you’ve scored a touchdown.

Til Next Time
Lola

Positive Plays

Positive Plays

The football season has started and it’s very clear to see whose winning and who is absolutely losing. I am a Dallas Cowboy fan with a Tommie Harris crush (hey, what can I say I like them tall, dark, and handsome (lol). I was slightly heartbroken over the Cowboys lost to the Bears but at the same time happy for my heart throb. While watching the boys in blue I manage to catch the Philly Eagles reign victorious over the Detroit Lions. Michael Vick took no prisoners and played his butt off. Having the starting quarter back (not sure of his name) out with a concussion it was only a matter of time that the three time Pro Bowler would be the man for the Eagles. However it’s amazing how people are determined to continue to bring up his past. I mean this man could possibly take this team to the super bowl(stranger things have happen) and the puppy chow people across the world will still go on strike, picketing the NFL headquarters and demand the quarterback to turn in his championship ring for dog food. With all the good, Vick is still catching a lot of bad. I respect Mr. Vick because while there are so many people still living in his past, he has mange to excel in his present, and prepare for his future.

I was talking to my friend Crystal last week about how I felt I needed someone or something to rescue me from myself, I told her I keep having ongoing battle of frustration with myself to the point that I was angry and disappointed with me. I continued telling her how I felt like I was killing myself with worry, regret, and fear. I just wanted to be saved from me. As I am writing I know I must sound like a white girl charity case, looking for sympathy but the truth is I’m not. I’m a black girl that has recognized I have issues and I need help. On Monday night after a day gone all wrong, I fell to my knees like Liz from the movie “Eat, Pray, Love and just asked God to help. Help me to forgive myself, and love myself. Help me to live with confidence regardless of how my past looks, just help me GOD! I didn’t pick up the bible or start to speak in tongue but I did start to calm down and went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and I get to work and what do you know a woman calls in angry because she’s lock out her Seniors Meet account (a online dating service). She begins to just attack me with name calling and rude gestures (and she wants to know why her old ass is still single) I apologize for her issues and let her know I’m just a receptionist and can’t help her. Of course at this point she has damned me to hell, and hangs up in my face. The day before I would have probably agreed with the names she was calling me, I didn’t know an old woman could say stupid “B” so many times in less than a minute (lol). I laughed and realized how much time I’ve wasted with what I absolutely could not change, and decided not to beat myself up anymore. In as much as I’ve been a stupid bitch before, I decided that day not to be what a stranger was determine to remind me of what I left on the floor of my bedroom the night before.

I’m sure Vick gave himself a good swift kick in backside when it seem like his world and career was coming to an end but the moment he decided to start fresh the puppy chow people were ready to put him right back in a place he left behind. We all have moments were we personally attack ourselves and its ok because the day we decide to give ourselves a break there’s someone waiting, ready to pick up where you’ve left off. No sense of wasting time beating ourselves up when we got people ready to throw jabs every chance they get. Make today a day of positive plays. You may not be the starting quarterback but you will start to feel better.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Me, Myself and Our Birthday

Me, Myself and Our Birthday

They say (not sure who “they “are) that when you turn thirty “life” happens. Apparently, I was supposed to get this boost of confidence and all my insecurities will be out the door. I was told by many of the “they sayers” that thirty is suppose to be refreshing. I figured since my friend Tish and I took the time on Saturday to take down my braids as a form of releasing my past by Monday (my birthday) I would feel all these great emotions. Instead I was pissed, just mad. Let it be known I am a person that needs instinct gratification, I am not one with patience and all my friends know this, so the only thing I wanted for my birthday was this life changing experience and a boost of confidence. It was like I woke and my past was laughing, with a big smile saying : Good Morning…you silly silly girl look at all this shit you’ve done and these big dreams of yours…hahaha FAIL! FAIL! FAIL! You know that the last boyfriend you had was in high school, sahme shame shame, not even married or close to it. You’re old! What are you going to do now (hahahah)! I wanted to cry but Big Girls Don’t Cry. I just rolled out of bed hoping to look in the mirror loving my new natural look, but instead I looked in the mirror and thought to myself WTF... I hate my hair. I liked it on Saturday and hating it on Monday. Then I took a shower and realized I am such a drama queen. I’m not dead I’m alive. There are over 300 people some I know, others I don’t know wishing me the best on facebook. Realizing I was committing mental suicide, I decided to have a little talk with myself. So I said self and myself said with a black girl attitude, What? I said I know we have failed at a lot of stuff and we're not feeling this new hair right now, but it’s just hair, and this time last year we were homeless, walking and riding the bus. Now we are homeless and have a 1995 Pontiac that has a little oil leak but drives better than our feet can walk (lol). Can’t beat having one out of the two (smile) myself got quite and started feeling bad for feeling bad. So I told myself, STOP! Now I don’t think there is any reason to waste present time on our sad past. Myself and I agreed to do our best to have a damn good dirty thirty (lol)

I celebrated my thirtieth birthday very simple. I didn’t throw a huge over the top party nor did I encounter birthday coloring with a masculine painter. All I did was watch the Jets get jammed by the Rams and the Chiefs take charge over the Chargers. I have a feeling that this is going to be a very interesting football season. (Side Note: the second penalty on Braylon Edwards was absolutely crap!) It was great! just me, some fried wings and $3 wells. Sunday my friends Daylon and Ami took me out for Sunday brunch. All and all it was a pretty good birthday…no complaints. The best gifts I got for my birthday were simple words from friends that confirmed that I’m worth more than I give myself credit for and that my hair looks fine ( rolling my eyes). Many people only have a few people that believe in them I have more than a few. As crazy as I am and of all the stupid mistakes I have made I’ve still got enough love from my mom and sister, family, and friends that can last forever.

To my friend that is turning thirty and hasn’t felt that sense of refreshing new beginning…relax I haven’t either. Just like you, I am pissed it didn’t show up on my birthday…however while we wait for our lives to change into maturity you have friend (me) that loves you even if it never happens.
Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Simply The Truth Is....

The Truth IsThere are several reasons why people lie. One reason is because the truth hurts so we wont have to feel the pain of honestly we lie. We lie to get what we want, we lie to avoid having to do what has been asked of us. I once lied to sing. Yep I told a very large amount of people that I was dying and that it would be a dream for me to sing at their event before I kicked the can. In my defense I had emailed these people several times but was unable to get a response , so I figured death would do the trick…and well it didn’t (hey it was my last hope). I even lied to a guy because I didn’t want to color with him. I told him that I was a virgin and I was waiting for Jesus to send me my husband. I wanted to get rid of the guy. I know you’re asking why I didn’t just tell him the truth. Well why don’t any of us tell the truth?

As a single singer there are two questions that I absolutely hate. The first one is: So why are you single? In my twenties very insecure about my singleness I would lie and say: Oh well you know I don’t want a serious relationship, I’m just not ready for that, or well I am really working on me becoming one with the Lord (to God be the glory). I can’t take it anymore, the truth is I have no earthy idea why I am single, I don’t know why the hell I am alone. If I knew then maybe just maybe I wouldn’t be single. Now that is the honest to God truth. The second question I hate being asked: So Lola when is your next show, have you tried singing at this location or that location. I know people mean well and are just trying to support me and I’m appreciative of that. I don’t want to seem like an ungrateful bitch so I respond with: Well you know right now I am singing at a lot of private events, and weddings. Here’s the truth, I don’t know when my next show will be just know I am busting my butt. As much as I want my phone to be ringing off the hook for gig after gig after gig it’s not. No one is blowing me up much asking me to perform. It’s so bad right now I feel like the homeless man on the corner holding up a sign saying “Will Work For Food” but only mine reads “Will Work To Sing”(deep sigh…tragic just tragic). Thankfully there at least twenty people that show up every Sunday at 7:30am service that I can sing to.

Here is the truth about me: I hate the Titan, and I hate that I hate him but I do I absolutely hate him. I don’t want to be single anymore. Nor do I want to be the self righteous independent black woman that Neyo wrote a song about ( he’s such a liar). I am a woman, a woman that wants to be taken care of, loved and adored. Let’s face it we (women) all want to be taken care of, we just can’t say it because then we’ll appear to be gold digging whores (lol).Despite what a man says they want to be the care taker, in as much, both of these statements are true, however no one wants to be taken advantage of. I honestly just want to sing, make great music, and perform. This is want I want my life to be consumed with: a lot of coloring with a fine ass man that loves and adores me, and singing…lots and lots of singing, song writing, and performing, dropping one album after another and, having number one hits one after the other. Lastly, the truth is no I do not think God wants something else for me, nor do I think that all that I have now is all I will ever get. Therefore I’ve stopped with justifiable answers to make me feel better. This telling the truth is making me feel great.

When I think about the truth I realize that it really doesn’t hurt it actually feels so good. No more lying. The only thing that has been hurting me are the lies, the lies I’ve told myself to save face is various situations. The truth, well it feels damn good.
To my friend reading this, the only advice I have for you is please stop lying to yourself. Want what you want and know where you are in life …and f the rest. I promise when you’re honest with yourself you’ll feel so much better.

Till Next Time
Simply Lola

Simply Lola : My Apology/A Vote Of Confidence

I would like to start my blog off with a public apology to Washington Wizards SF Josh Howard. A DC sport reporter quoted me as the unreliable source, yet humorous regarding my point of view about a party I attended. Unfortunately Mr. Howard or any of his homeboys found my statements funny. So anyway I’m sorry, who knew, people actually read my stuff (Shocker!).Josh Howard is a very nice man and I thank him for allowing me to sing at his event

As many of you know in college I interned with DTP (Disturbing Da Peace). One day at the office I was talking with JC Luda’s long time friend/DJ asking him what he had going on for the night. He said he was meeting a friend at the strip club “Strokers”. He asked had I ever been to a strip club and if I would like to go. I’d never been to a strip club and was very curious as to why T-Pain was so in love with them, so I agreed to tag along. We get to the club and my first thought was: OMG, um ah acccccuried. As I sat at the table with JC and his friend I begin to admire the dancers confidence (no homo) I mean they were so sure of themselves and appeared so secure in their performance, it just blew my mind.(damn, if I could only sing with that kind of assurance) I was about 23 at the time not looking a day older than a shy school girl at the tender age of 12 wondering, how do they do this, I mean I can’t hardly look at myself naked when I’m getting out of the shower let alone in public. These girls are perfectly comfortable with absolutely nothing on. There was a guy sitting at the next table over getting a lap dance, when the dancer was finished with fulfilling his fantasy she sat next to me bare ass and all, with her legs gapped opened huffing and buff. She took a drink of water (I think it was water) and with frustration she said: (niggas is always bullshitin). My eyes got wide, shock by her statement; I sat up straight in my chair with my eyes glued to the bar I didn’t want to appear judgmental. I’m not sure why but the pissed off stripper started a conversation with me. We didn’t talk about much due to the fact I couldn’t get over the fact that she was so comfortable sitting next to me with absolutely nothing on. Before I left with JC I told her that I admired the fact that she was comfortable and confident with herself, she smiled and rolled her eyes with her fist against her thigh saying, shit I aint got time to worry about what niggas say when I got fow (four) babies to feed. Her words spoke volumes and til this day I use them as my birth control (lol).

This past week I was in a writing session with Eric Duwain who is by the way a great writer /vocal arranger. I got this idea for a Hip-Hop song that if packed together properly will be the start of something really great for me and everyone working with me. We wrote the song in a matter of two days. The track has been created and now all I have do is just sing the song (sing the song Anna Mae, sing like you wrote it…lol) Here’s the problem I have never ever sang Hip-Hop. Hip-Hop songs don’t require very much or any singing what so ever. All a hip hop songs require a hot track and a hell of a lot of confidence. As Eric was arranging the song I felt I was in a war zone with my thoughts. It was as if every embarrassing failure kept playing one after another in my head. Like my first day of middle school I had to pee so bad I accidently walked in the boy’s bathroom and this boy runs out and starts yelling down the hall this fat girl was in the boys bath room( there goes my date to the Valentines dance). Or the time I got so drunk after seeing the Titan at a party that I threw up all along side Daylon’s car (it wasn’t one of my favorite grown and sexy moments). Oh and I can’t forget the first time I had ever spent the night over a guys house I was so scared that I got gas and before I even get my naked butt out the bed and to the bathroom a loud roar came from my stomach and out my ass, thankfully the guy snored very loud and the smell passed very quickly. With all of these thoughts going on in my head I just wanted to run out the studio and just forget it. I just couldn’t bear the thought of making a complete and utter fool of myself any more. As much as I wanted to run, I couldn’t just get up and go.

At the end of the session on my way home I drove in silence and prayed. I told God that I really needed his help in completing this song. I thought about the stripper from Strokers and how her children were her vote of confidence. Being that I don’t have any children I need something to make me feel like I can do this song and do it well. As I searched myself to find my “something” I found myself thinking about my niece. My niece is only five and thinks I am the greatest singer alive, I mean she thinks I am better than Beyonce. Every time I pick her up from school she always says, Auntie can you play your songs I love to hear you sing. So that’s it I have to do this song because my niece is going to want here me sing.

To my friend that needs a vote of confidence please know that the mind plays one heel of a game with past thougts. The past may be something unforgetable, and if you're like me thinking the world is laughing at you ...well at least you got thir attention so show them what you got.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

simply-lolaknowing-what-i-want

Simply Lola: Dying Too Live

There is this new series on Showtime called “The Big C”. It’s about a woman that goes in for her annual checkup only to leave her doctor’s office with news that she has breast cancer. She takes her tragic news and decides not to undergo any treatments or surgeries and builds a pool in her front yard to teach her rebelling teenage son the banana split. I have to say this is the best show I have seen since the premier of Grey’s Anatomy and the cancelation of “The Game”. Well anyway, her doctor can only guaranty her one year to live, so she takes the summer to help the black actress from the movie “Precious” (which by the way her name isn’t really Precious its Gabourey Sidibe) lose weight by giving her a hundred dollars for every pound she loses, kicks her husband out, makes friends the angry old lady across her street who doesn’t cut her lawn, and burns the coach she’s always hated in her back yard. Cleary this is a white woman because I if a black woman gets wind that she is dying she’d go straight to church lay at the altar and beg God to heal her from her disease only so she can go back to living life laying at the altar thanking God for saving her life. I’m a black woman and I love being black but why is it that we (meaning black woman) don’t actually live life but just pray and complain about life (We’ve got to do better)

Each year has twelve months; each month has at least thirty days with the exception of February. In a few weeks I will be turning thirty and for the most part of my life I have worried about my life. I have had anxiety attacks about what is going to happen to me, and when will life start for me. As I reflect on my dramatic scenes of “Lord Oh Why Me Lord…Where art thy Lord…Come Save Me Holy One blah, blah ,blah blah, blah I realize I’ve wasted 348 months and 10585 days on wondering if I will ever live my life( the math maybe a little off)lol.Worrying about the next time I will color or become all I've dreamed is so trivial and its time to live...yes my friend do my very best to just live my life.Now I am and will always be a black woman, so building a pool in my front yard wouldn’t be on my “To Do List” but what I would do is:

1. Never take no for an answer
2. Forgive myself for all the mistakes I’ve ever made
3. Stop biting my nails
4. Finish the book Eat, Pray, Love ( I promised my Crystal I’d read it before I saw it at the movie)
5. Stop worrying how this damn blog I started will end
6. Speak my mind, and never apologize for it
7. Have confidence in everything I do, never concerned about what others think of me
8. Lastly, I would do whatever it takes to do whatever I want to do, no matter what it is.

I’ve always wanted to be in love with someone that is in love with me, and have red roses delivered to me just because he’d do anything to see my beautiful smile. I’ve wanted to record dozen of albums , win numerous awards, act in movies with actors like Meryl Streep and Jamie Fox ( I know weird combination) and have a little girl (Lalah Rashawn) twin boys (Jackson and Jeremiah). I realize that life is short and I can’t worry about my wish list of love, romance, and bright light fairy tale fantasies. I can only be thankful for the time I have on this earth and make the most of each day I have. So my advice to all who is reading: Stop Dying Too Live, and Start Living Before You Die

Til Next Time Simply Lola

Fathoming Faith

Fathoming Faith

In the book “Think & Grow Rich” Napoleon Hill states: Faith is the “eternal elixir” which gives life, power, and action to the impulse of thought. My move back to Dallas I had faith that “Weekes Entertainment” would honor their commitment in investing in my music career, and it was a complete failure. The only big investment they made as avoiding my calls and never following though with commitments that were made to complete my project. It was complete hell, I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why I had so much faith in them and they had absolutely none in me (the biggest coward move ever). There I was doing a song and a dance and there they where not even noticing. …tragic just tragic. After a dream I had about the Titan I had faith in knowing the he was the “one”. I did several songs and dances, a few ending up in coloring activities but nothing solid. I believed that the harder I danced and sang the faster he would move his damn feet and make me his woman. Oh I was the woman alright the woman that he never had faith in.

As I am writing I’ve noticed a pattern in my acts of faith, all my actions of faith have been in others and not myself. I do believe that faith is all I need, but more importantly its where I place my faith. I’ve believed that the Titan was the “one” I believed that he would love me, and with his love I would be able to love myself. I believed that “Weekes Entertainment would really work and invest in me, and with their investment I would know I was good enough to be the star I’ve always wanted to be. It’s now that I know that faith only works at its best when its an action driven by me. I can only control me, I am the master of my fate. I have spent some much time wondering why faith wasn’t working for me when the answer is simple. I had faith, but not faith in me.

One of my favorite movies is “Ali”. Will Smith plays Muhammad Ail a man convinced, no matter what he was the worlds greatest boxer. He had faith in himself that he was greatest before he won his first fight, he had faith he was the greatest when they stripped him of his title and wouldn’t allow him to box, he was still the greatest even when he lost a fight. It was as if he was a man that had no room for doubt. Today, Ali is still the greatest, even without being in a boxing ring. He’s the greatest because although faith and fear may have occupied one thought, his action was always a faithful movement.

So here is the thing about faith, it’s a confident emotion that never changes. It’s always knowing that you are the greatest at whatever it is you do. The good thing about knowing that you are the greatest at what you do is knowing that there is only one of you. Faith, yes it works but it only works in you.

Til Next Time
Simply Lola

Simply Lola: Becoming Popular

As an intern at Def Jam/Disturbing Da Peace I did many different gofer jobs. Like making lunch runs for the office, getting fries from Philly Connection for Ludacris, answering the phones and listen to every unsigned rapper in the world rap on the phone and ask me if their shit was hot, in my most sarcastic tone I would respond by saying, yeah sure your shit is hot , good luck and just hang up. I sometimes had to play security when unfamiliar groupies would lie and say Luda or a label executive was expecting their arrival. Frustrated with my crappie workload, I wore the many hats with one goal in mind and that was to become a signed artist on the popular label. I figure it couldn’t be that hard because Black Berry Malaises Boy (Bobby Valentino’s nick name at CAU) got a deal and he was the least popular of the girls on campus. Many at CAU however, loved me; I was involved in school activities and was always singing at an event on campus. So when there was a need for a female artist I was confident that I would be considered. I remember the day as if it were yesterday I walked in the small office building directly towards Chaka Zulu (Ludacris manager) office and knocked on the door. I was nervous but I knew this had to be my big break, a chance of a lifetime. His assistant told me to come in. I took a deep breath, and walked in the crowded office. On the couch was the big boss of Ebony Sun Management Jeff, an up and coming rapper named “titty boy” worse name ever, and some A&R guy. Still very nervous I stood at the door and in a shy voice said, I heard that label was looking for a female artist to sign and I would like to be considered. Not really moved by my presence or my words I walked over to Chaka stereo system and asked if I could play them what I had recorded. It was a senior in college and I had only recorded one song titled “Tonight”. The song played for about 30 seconds and I was asked to pause the song. Chaka said I had a nice voice, pleased by his response I smiled as a way of saying thank you. Jeff unmoved by my attempt and waved me off and said they’d get back to me. A few days went by and I asked Portia (an executive for the label) if there were any word on them signing a female singer. She said yeah, they just signed a girl by the name of Sherfa. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach and my tears making its way down my face. Portia close the door to her office gave me a hug and said (Lola, don’t cry you have a great voice, but its not what’s popular right know) she continued to say the music game is tough and you never know one day the music game just may change and my sound might have a voice .

The word that stuck with me from that day forth was “popular”. I figured in ordered for my dreams to come true I had to make my sound popular. Therefore, I spent many years trying to do just that. I stopped being passionate about music and singing and started to become obsessed with being a popular singer. I made every attempt to sound like Brandy, Beyonce, Monica, and who ever else was “popular” at the time. It became so much of an obsession that even in my dating life I would do my best to transform into what the “popular” woman looked like. I even cut my hair short so that I would resemble Halle Berry, I mean she was listed as the most beautiful woman in the world. I found myself doing whatever it took to look like and be like the “popular” single singer, so much as to become bulimic. It was not until a few weeks ago while recording a song I wrote that I realized my obsession with being “popular” was ruining my life.

I was listening to the final cut of what I recorded my vocal arranger Eric, said it sounded good but he needed me to be more expressive in my delivery. Unsure of what he meant I asked him to explain. He told me that he wanted to hear how I (Lola) feels about what I am singing about, and even went on to say since I wrote the song I should tell the story.

The next morning as I was washing my face, I thought about what Eric said to me. I looked in the mirror and realized I was exhausted with forcing myself to look and sing like the “popular people”. I opened my bathroom cabinet got out my diet pills and flushed them down the toilet. I got dressed and made the decision that I just wanted to be myself. I no longer had a burning desire to be “Popular”, but I developed that burning desire to just be the best Lola I can be.

The revelation for my life came to me overnight, but the change for my life will take its course one day at time. To my friend who is reading my words there is only one you, do not sell this world short.

Til Next Time
Lola