The sun glints and grins today

And the waves resound

With the seagulls in the background

Like a Hans Zimmer Film Score

There’s sand on our backs

Your gaze lingers, you stop

To kiss my face

Bodies wrapped around like

The way mommies hold their child

Her blaze got us sweatin’

Our hearts are just beaming

Jenifer Lewis is an actress, broadway singer, comedian, social activist, and one heck of an orator. You may have seen her on the show Fresh Prince of Bel Air as Aunt Helen, What’s Love Got to Do with It as Tina Turkey’s mother, Zelma Bullock, or Black-ish in which she plays the hilarious mother of Dre Johnson, Ruby Johnson. Hollywood has dubbed her “The Mother of Black Hollywood” which is the title of her first book. She has a voice of a preacher and has endless stories of cautionary tales and debauchery. Oh, and at 61 years old, she can still do a high kick–if that’s not commendable then I don’t know what is.

Favorite Lewis quote: “Love yourself, so that love will not be a stranger when it comes.”

When I was a little nugget (imagine that) I was wild, I was fearless, I was shameless. I envy that little nugget because she was so shamelessly cool. But as I got older, the world started to turn a littler darker, life started getting tougher and the reality of it all became more daunting; as a result I lost the boldness I once had. I miss that little nugget. So here’s to reconnecting with that badgalmeme. Happy Bday, gal!

And to the ones who have lost their valor or moxie in this crazy world; I hope you find it.

The title says it all doesn’t? Before I get into this embarrassing story, I want to preface it with this… watch out for mucus globs!

I was in grade school when I was hit by a mucus glob. A mucus glob is not a silly thing I just made up, it’s real, a real strange thing you might find on an episode of Stranger Things. The whole entire moment happened so freakishly fast that I felt disoriented after I was hit. I digress.

I was working on an assignment with my group members. I don’t recall their names except for one, which was Jennifer (the most important character in this story). Jennifer was sitting across from me, coughing up a storm. Jennifer didn’t know how to cough properly, instead of lifting her arm to cough between her pits, Jennifer coughed with her hand which formed the letter O from American Sign Language. So every time she coughed, she would raise her hand up to her mouth in shape of the letter O. Jennifer’s offensive coughing fit allowed bacteria to move freely in open air, specially mucus. (No one was safe!) I happened to look at Jennifer at the exact moment she decided to cough—the mucus from her cough formed the most disgusting mucus glob and landed on my precious forehead. It was slimy and wet. I bolted towards the sink behind me and lathered water and soap all over my face. Soap became my best friend that day.

Jennifer kept apologizing, but my fury did not stop there. I scolded her for the next five minutes on how to properly cough. I also insisted my teacher to teach the whole class about cough etiquette.

I now have germophobia because of Jennifer. Thank you, Jennifer.

PSA: Mucus globs are real. If you find someone with a coughing fit…that thing in their throat…might land somewhere…beware.

Today we honor Martin Luther King Jr. for his wisdom, courageousness, discerning spirit, and his fight against the battle of injustice and oppression. Like Martin Luther Kink Jr., many activists rallied for human equality for a better tomorrow, a better future. We have come so far because of them. Who would have imagined, we would have an African American male president of the United States of America in the 21st century? Certainly, a remarkable feat in modern day history. In 2008, we elected an African American into office-a Harvard Law School Graduate, a senator from Illinois, a noble and upright President named Barack Obama. It seemed at that time, we were coming together again; we witnessed the impossible and it seemed like we were going to see extraordinary things to come. Barack Obama’s “Change We Need” slogan in the 2008 presidential campaign seems more evident than ever now. But there are more hills and valleys to tread through and barriers to break-through. In 2017, we elected Donald Trump—a business man and a reality tv show host. It’s been a year since President Trump has been in office and tension has risen so much higher than ever before in our nation. President Trump’s language and ongoing disparaging rhetoric have got the American people enraged. He has completely abandoned one of U.S. Constitution rudimentary purposes and that is to “insure domestic tranquility.” We the people deserve a president that respects the constitution and respects humanity. In all of the tension that has risen from the President Trump’s remarks, we have come together once again in solidarity of injustice and corruption.

In remembrance of Martin Luther King Jr. lets celebrate humanity and continue to fight for human equality.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

-Martin Luther King Jr.

Let’s finally put an end on sexual assault, harassment, inequality, and discrimination in the workplace.

Time’s Up addresses abuse, discrimination, and inequality in the workplace. With our efforts; we can collectively make a change.

We may live in a fallen world, but we should not fall with it.

Visit the link below for more information.

https://www.timesupnow.com

The trick to online dating is not doing it at all.

You say you don’t want to be with a black girl like me who stands 5 ft. 1 (no, I lied) 4 ft. 11. What is it that you don’t like? Is it my hair? My kinky, curly matted strands of hair. It’s unfamiliar to you, isn’t it? You don’t see this kind of beauty on the cover of Cosmo, People, or Seventeen magazine. Or is it my skin? It’s my skin, isn’t it? My rich cocoa skin. Well, if you ask a young child what the color of my skin is, he or she will say brown—not black. My skin resembles cafe mocha which the Italians call it mochaccino, bellissimo—with a dash of sweetness and some cinnamon flavor. Don’t downplay what you said. You said you’re not into black girls. Am I supposed to feel torn because of your ignorance? The color of my skin is part of me, it’s my genetic-makeup, it’s my blue-print. It’s permanent, it can not be altered and will not be changed. I am not trying bleach for you.

I am also human. A human being that inhabits this lovely/ugly fallen world. I see more ugly than lovely and I wish it not-be-so-ugly. The image of us walking hand in hand at a local bar gets you icy cold/stony eyed. Sad. Pathetic, really. Oh, it would be so tragic! You claim it wouldn’t be your picture-perfect fantasy. Fantasies are saturated, nonsensical, absurd, and jaded. I used to fantasize about riding on a horse with my hands tightly around Chris Pine’s waist as we ride on a treacherous trail while escaping wild dragons. And after the conquest, we make love in a nearby bush. And you know what? That won’t happen.

You say interracial relationship is—”great, I guess… actually “I don’t know.” You’re wishy-washy, you’re close minded. If you can’t still look past the color of my skin then you don’t really see me. If you truly see the parts of me, you would be saying something entirely different. I’m loyal. I’m quirky. I’m funny. I will love you until it hurts. And I want someone that will love me the same. And you are not the one.

I want that special guy to love every part of me, my rich cocoa skin, my kinky/curly matted strands of hair, my loyalty, my quirkiness, my humor. I want a guy that will love me whole. I want him to ask me the craziest question: “You want the moon?” And I’ll say, “yes” with gumption because it’s crazy and I’m crazy about him. He will then throw a loose around it and pull it down. He will then break it apart. He gives me one half and he takes the other. We swallow it and after we swallow the moon, it will dissolve and the moonbeams will shoot out of our fingers, toes, and the ends of our hair. The moonbeams inside will be so bright that it will latch on to anything it touches. People will smile when they see us because it’s so bright. It’ll be love that keep us shining. That’s the kind of love-ly I want to see, obtain, and feel in this world…without you in it.

At the tender age of nine, childhood had ended and womanhood began. And at nine years old, the Red Sea bursted out of me.

I remember that moment, that day very vividly. I was in grade school and it was recess time. I was chatting it up with my friend Anamarie and another girl who is long gone from my memory. (Sorry, girl.) Anamarie asked us if we would walk with her to the bathroom. I went inside the bathroom stall because I needed to go tinkle too. I wore panties emblazoned with a picture of Barney. And there it was, Mother Nature in my Barney undies. At the time, I panicked. What is this? Am I sick? Did I just caca on myself? You want to know what I did? I pulled my panties up like nothing happened. Of course, for the rest of the day that is all I could think about. When I got home, I changed my underwear. But I knew I had to tell my mom—definitely not my dad so, I showed my mom the panties and asked her what it was. She was so composed about it, she said something similar to “Oh, yeah. You got your period.” That was it? Ugh…I deserve an explanation! (And, no I never had the “period talk” with my mom.) So, I was flabbergasted, rightfully so. How did she forget to tell me that blood was going to come out of me at some point or another? Really? How did this slip your mind, woman! She finally took me to my bedroom along with my sister (for additional support) and thoroughly explained to me about menstruation. I wanted to crawl into a ball. I didn’t want the pubes or the boobs to follow. I wanted to play outside with my friends. I didn’t want to have to worry about changing a diaper-pad. I didn’t want to grow up. But I had to face her, I had to face Mother Nature. Mother Nature sworn me in without a warning in advance. Check out my sworn in statement into womanhood: “I do solemnly swear that I will accept the Red Sea flow, pubes, and tits. And I will do the best of my ability to preserve and care for my vagina.”

Bye, bye childhood. Hello, womanhood?