Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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
Thursday, September 23, 2010
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
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
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
Thursday, September 9, 2010
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
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
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