“Don’t leave your sugar for sh*t.” (Credit: Nana)

I would make up something flowery and eloquent as to why I haven’t written in so long but…I don’t have the strength. Bish has a new job, a new place to lay my head, a new lease of life…pretty much a new everything.

What’s ironic is that I have always had this fascination with things that were new. I like the way newness smells and feels. (Don’t confuse new with clean. Clean is on some obsessive compulsive tip and I certainly have my messy moments.)

But also with newness comes the necessity to be transparent. You become susceptible to changes you may or may not be prepared for. And while things are all shiny and brand new, you still have to deal with the realness of transition.

All new things don’t come with a warranty.

Oh, how I wish it did. Why isn’t everything new refundable? You get quite pissy when you buy something that seemingly is user-friendly, then you get home and the instructions are in Memphlish. This certainly applies to people. You invite someone into your world, with the intention that what’s on the outside is in direct correlation of what’s on the inside.

Negative.

And its not just new people in your life. It could be old people who get “brand new” on that ass.

New sh*t changes people.

(Insert MJ’s “Human Nature)

But dammit, we are just that…human. We get comfortable. We get used to what used to be new. How dare we cop an attitude when the newness wears off and all that lovely surface begins to rub off?

Then we have quite a situation on our hands. Do we go back to the old thing because we kind of miss it, now that the newness of the new thing wore off and do we stick it out with the new thing because, hell, it IS a damn upgrade? If we go back to the old mess, we risk losing the new mess. If we stick with the new mess, we may find out the old mess is really what we wanted all along. (That made complete sense in my head and if it doesn’t to you, go play in traffic.)

Decisions, Decisions.

Well, let me say this. I have been in this situation a time or two, kiddies. And sometimes I stuck with the new and sometimes I went back to what I knew. There’s no formula on what’s right or wrong. All I can say is that I’ve always based my decision on my ultimate happiness.

Or as my nana would say: “Don’t leave your sugar for sh*t.”

Just make sure you know the difference between the two.

Be Easy.

Wait for it...

I’m sitting here blogging naked. It has been scientifically proven that people are more transparent when they are naked and/or their body temperature is warmer than normal. Hence, the wonderful phenomena that is “pillow talk”

I’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed with the certain uncertainties in my life so I haven’t been in the mood to spread my word seed. Sometimes, I tend to forget that writing is what keeps me sane. It keeps me from popping off on folks and keep Che’von at bay.

Crazy heffa.

I will be completely honest and tell you what subject has really been on my mind over the last few months.

Love and Marriage.

Blame it on that good ol’ biological clock.

I’m totally in observation mode. I’ve been watching friends and family members fall in and out of love…play games with it…run from it like it was the Swine Flu on crack…get their first taste of it or throw in the towel. Lately, I’ve been coming to some conclusions as to why marriages and relationships fail. I realize God is showing me these things so that when my earthly “king” is revealed to me, I won’t make the same mistakes. Prime Example.

Homeboy calls me yesterday and tells me he met a girl. He likes said girl. She’s smart, attractive and they get along grand. But homeboy says he can’t date her because (1) she lives with her folks and (2) she has a baby. He says that ‘either or’ could be acceptable but both is a dream killer.

Hmmmph.

So perfect person with temporary issues…and you pass?

Next week, he’ll meet a bi-polar, needy heffa who “got her own”. No temporary issues but a permanent problem.

I don’t understand it.

Why do we go for the partners who have together on the surface but are so permanently messed up on the inside? Because we are selfish and don’t want to be inconvenienced. How many of us independent women have passed on the blue collar brother because he has on a uniform and not a Brooks Brothers suit? If we had a conversation with him, maybe we’d learn that he’s working on his MBA while working full-time. He’ll have that suit in two years, if we can be patient and wait on it.

But we don’t want to wait. In a microwave society, we want it now. Think about how many blessings we pass over because its not wrapped in pretty paper with a bag ass bow on top. Most of the people with the most genuine of hearts and spirits are riddled with temporary issues that we view as just too much “work”.

I think I’ll follow Michells Obama’s lead.

On their first date, her husband showed up in a dated vehicle that didn’t even have a footboard. Now they fly first class to change the forecast.

Wait for it…

She’s baaaaack.

Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Stef. D to the E-F.

So much has happened since I’ve been on hiatus. I became what some may label as a “victim of the recession.“ Yep. I lost my job. They eliminated my position. But they sent me home with a nice parting gift…almost as good as the second place prize on Jeopardy. In true Def Stef style, I admit I’ve been kicking it…may as well enjoy not having to answer to the man on the daily. Ironically, this all occurred in the midst of my Lenten fast. I’m sure the homey J. Christ did this on purpose. I’m putting things in perspective. He’s preparing me for the next level.

I’ll be 30 in 10 months. Cue the music…

“Age ain’t nothing’ but a number. Throwing down ain’t nothing but a thang…”

I tell you one thing. I thoroughly enjoyed my twenties. I experienced real love, fake love, real friends, fake friends, debauchery, experimentation, heartbreak, romance, mis-education…I look at my friends and family members who may have the husband, the nice house, the nice car and the kids and sometimes, I feel the regret pouring from their eyes. I’ll have stories to tell my daughter about how her mama shook it like a salt shaker and lived to tell about. I wouldn’t change one iota of my twenties experience…save a few dramatic moments…

I’m on the cusp of the next level. You know. Housewifery and mini-me’s running the show. I’ll enjoy the last few moments of the 20-something years, TRUST and BELIEVE. I’m starting to reflect already. I learned so much. And I’m finally happy to stop lying to myself about a few things.

You: What you lie to yourself ‘bout, girl?

I’m happy you asked.

Ten things women lie to themselves about in their 20’s.
Dirty Thirty changes everything.

10. I will have this body forever.
The closer you get to 30, the less time it takes that 3 a.m. Krispy Kreme donut to attach itself to your arse. Gravity starts effin’ with your head and your body. You start understanding the need to a body shaper and a bra with industrial strength underwire. You start reading nutritional labels and isht…googling wtf riboflavin really is. You start heaving after a few flights of steps and realizing that you can’t drink Jose Cuervo no more. You mean, I have to start actually working out, Def Stef? Uhm, yes ma’am. Goodbye, high metabolism and cheap, unforgiving fabrics.

9. I can wear anything I want.
No more Wet Seal, Rave, 357 and run as fast as you can from the Juniors section of the department store. Because of #10, you can’t afford to put anything on your body but a quality fabric that is age appropriate. The dawn of 30 also makes you realize your body type. For example, I can’t wear a shirt that has a titty pocket. The DD ain’t gonna fit. Its like OJ and the black glove…and I ain’t going to jail.

8. If I get in real financial trouble, I will call the ‘rents.
Negative. They don’t care. They halfway won’t pay for a wedding after you’ve turned 25 and/ or have an IRA. Their money is their money. Pay your own fare.

7. One form of birth control is enough.
There’s power in numbers. Condom AND the pill. Folks kill me how they are more afraid of getting pregnant than contracting a deadly virus. I will take 18 years over LIFE anyday.

6. I only have to go to the doctor when it hurts.
This is a lie from the pit of hell. Proactive not Reactive.

5. My girls are down for me…whenever, whatever, wherever.
I’d like to tell you that your ‘clique’ will ride with you no matter what but I’d be lying. This doesn’t mean you need to ostracize yourself but you must be real honest with your friends’ roles in your life. Some friends are just there to go out with, some are just there to listen to you cry, some are just there to help you whoop arse. That’s the way it is.

4. I’m not the average chick. I’m different.
Sigh.
Yeah, God made you special. Sure. But you are still an average woman unless you are excelling at what your individual God-given strength is. And it won’t be rooted in how much money you make, how much booty you have, how good your hair is, how exotic you look, how fast you can run…It’ll lie within your spirit, your giving, and your true purpose.

3. I can change him.
No, you can’t.

2. I’m only responsible for myself.
You are responsible for every life you touch. You are assigned to a person for a reason and if you find yourself on the receiving end 90% percent of the time, you may need to learn a lesson in selflessness.

1. I got that good-good.
Super sigh.
By the time you are 30 and the guy you are dating is as well, chances are he has had every brand of vajayjay on the shelves. Good-good won’t keep him there for longer than it takes for the “love to come down.” You got make love to more than his piece. Make love to his mind with your intelligence. Make love to his appetite with a home cooked meal. Make love his spirit by worshipping with him. And most importantly, make love to his ego. Men need that just as much as we do.

So what does it all boil down to? Sucky as it may be, sometimes it takes us to get damn near 30 to finally achieve authentic style, substance and sensibility.

But didn’t we have fun?

LOL that’s all that matters.

Inside the Actor’s Studio
James Lipton sits down with Miss Swanigan, Def Stef and Madame Che’von…

1. What is your favorite word?
Miss Swanigan: Omnipotent
Def Stef: Fly
Che’von: B****….haha…I guess that makes us one omnipotent, fly b****

2. What is your least favorite word?
Miss Swanigan: Can’t
Def Stef: Sorry
Che’von: Perfect

3. What turns you on?
Miss Swanigan: Seeing a man on his knees praying.
Def Stef: Just seeing a man…
Che’von: Seeing a man on his knees…period.

4. What turns you off?
Miss Swanigan: Negativity
Def Stef: Dishonesty
Che’von: A small one. (Don’t want no short…lol….itty bitty teeny weeny…)

5. What sound do you love?
Miss Swanigan: Laughter
Def Stef: Donny Hathaway
Che’von: A V6 engine

6. What sound do you hate?
Miss Swanigan: Expletives.
Def Stef: The sound of any living thing crying.
Che’von: A whiner

7. What is your favorite curse word?
Miss Swanigan: Hell
Def Stef: Phuck
Che’von: Bastard

8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?
Miss Swanigan: Stripper
(The room is in shock.)
Def Stef: (To Miss Swanigan) I knew you had it in you. (To Mr. Lipton) A Pilot.
Che’von: The first lady of a church. They are always fly as hell.

9. What profession would you not like to do?
Miss Swanigan: Stripper
Def Stef: A school teacher
Che’von: Michelle Obama

10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Miss Swanigan: “You won the battle of good and evil”.
Def Stef: “Enjoy your promotion.”
Che’von: “Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-a-a-alcohol.” Lol…

***THE END***

Boughetto Jeudi

Word of the Day: Arse

Arse
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Arse is an English term referring to the buttocks, first recorded circa 1400 (in arce-hoole) and is commonly used in English speaking countries such as the United Kingdom, Ireland, Australia and New Zealand, parts of Canada and former parts of the British Empire. In the United States and other parts of Canada the variant form ass is used.

I’m in an odd mood for lists. I don’t know from whence it came but carry on…

Top Ten On Screen Characters Whose Arse I Have Wanted to Hand to Them

Ahem…

10. Laurence Fishbourne as Ike Turner in What’s Love Got to Do With It?

“You trying to help IKE!?!” I don’t know how accurate the movie was but Larry’s strong backhand and snort method make it hard to conceive that he was once Cowboy Curtis on Pee Wee’s Playhouse or Young Wilford in blaxploitation classic, “Cornbread, Earl and Me”.

9. Vanessa Bell Calloway as Yvonne Caldwell on All My Children

How dare she break up Angie and Jessie’s happy home? Ooooooooo, she made my momma mad and in turn, curdled my fresh pre-pubescent blood. Premium homewrecker. It was scandalous.

8. Bill Bellamy as Hollywood in Love Jones

Every man you’ve ever dated has that slick homeboy who tries to get at you when your man looks away. Sometimes he doesn’t even say anything. He just looks at you wrong. Ugh! I hate this type of guy. And when he refused to take Nina Mosley home after his sneaky behind took her to that party KNOWING Darius would be there. Hmmmph!

7. Sanna Lathan as Andrea Pratt-Bennett in The Family That Preys

This heffa right here. When Rockmond gave her that swift “Ike Turner” and she flew across that counter, I wasn’t even mad.

6. Blair Underwood as Chip Hightower in G

Everybody knows that I have been a swooning fan of Blair since LA Law. I used to beg my mom to let me stay up and watch my two favorite black male actors who brought color to p.m. drama in the 80’s- Mr. Underwood and St. Elsewhere’s Denzel Washington. I don’t know if Blair was trying to show his rough side but Lawd Haw Mercy, he was so evil in this urban version of F. Scott’s “The Great Gatsby”.

5. Denzel Washington as Alonzo Harris in Training Day

Denzel, I guess, was trying to prove a point as well.

Point.
Taken.

“King Kong ain’t…..”

You know the rest.

4. Tupac Shakur as Bishop in Juice

This is how we all knew that Tupac was crazy and had a dark side. I’m a firm believer that people have severe demons. And if they continue to ignore them, they feed and grow and mature. Bishop wasn’t fictional. At all.

3. Wesley Snipes as Nino Brown in New Jack City

Nino suffered from megolamania aka delusions of grandeur or as we would say, he was on a power trip something awful. He didn’t have to do the light skinned brother like that.

2. Terrence Howard as Cameron Thayer in Crash

I can’t believe that this man did not get gangsta with Matt Dillon after he molested his wife. Are you serious?!? You have got to be kidding me?! Is that not worth going to jail for?! Under NO circumstances, should a grown man allow his wife to be disrespected in such a manner. You MUST take a “L” on this one. You MUST.

1.Susan Kohner as Sarah Jane in Imitation of Life (1959)

I will never….ever….ever get over her screaming at her mother that she was “white, white….whiiiiiite” and watching that poor lady on her death bed, dying of a broken heart. That moment at the end when she runs through the mass of people at her mother’s funeral, crying her heart out, I am filled with so many mixed emotions. I don’t know whether to empathize or slice her.

If you haven’t seen some of these characters, go to a Blockbuster near you or You Tube it. They say actors are most proud when a fan hates them because of a character they portrayed. To the above, I say, well done.

Til next time.
Be Easy.

Ten Lessons We Should Take into Adulthood by Che’von
(Because them other two heffas work a 9-5…)

10. Don’t talk to strangers.
When a man or woman disappears on you or become consistently inconsistent…when you feel as if you don’t really “know” a person or for some reason, they cannot be transparent with you…they are a stranger. Don’t talk to them. I don’t care how much candy they are offering. Save the Butterfingers and Red Hots for the next unaware chick.

9. Keep your legs crossed---at the ankles as a child…at the knees as an adult.
Keep your “Judy Monkeyhouse” to yourself. Yes, you read that right…your Judy Monkeyhouse. (I had a fantastically perverse aunt that came up with random names for private parts.)

8. One day, you’ll love that (insert physical feature you were once teased for having).
I hated being the girl with full lips and the only 3rd grader already in a training bra. Haha. Not anymore.

7. Stop Snitching.

6. Go to your room and think about.
Moms always did this when there was a lesson to be learned. There was no conversation about why I did what I did until after I spent 2 hours in the bedroom, sitting under that horrid “Thiller” poster my sister hung over my bed to torture me. Now, I usually think long and hard about my actions and my words.

5. “What are your intentions with my daughter?” – said Momma, to potential boyfriend
You know why you didn’t know he was married with two kids. You didn’t ask. You know why you didn’t know he liked boys that liked boys that liked boys that liked girls. You didn’t ask. Get all up in his isht on that first date. This is your life he’s trying to penetrate…not just your Judy Monkeyhouse. My nana would always bless me out for being on the phone with a boy at 2 a.m. She’d say, “ain’t but one thing a little manish boy want to talk about this late night.” If he’s calling you at 2 a.m. to come over and “spoon”, get a grip!

4. Go ask your father.
Your earthly father and your Heavenly Father have some mighty good advice for you. Listen.

3. Stop running.
Please refer to India Arie’s “Slow Down”.

2. Stop staring.
Get the hell up outta other folk’s business.

1. Say your prayers.

Bourghetto Jeudi: The Incomparable “Coug”

The Definitions
Cougar
Noun
-an aesthetically pleasing woman frequently approached by suitors who are old enough to be her own child. Fictional Examples include Angela Bassett as “Stella”, Phylisha Rashad as “Claire Huxtable”, Pam Grier as “Jackie Brown”.

I met this cougar last night. She was bad. She has a doctorate, a six figure salary and back for days.

Couging
Verb
-to purportedly accept the advances of a suitor old enough to be one’s own child.

Rochelle is out couging tonight at Club Nocturnal. Its college night.

SMH

If you know me or have read my blog for any length of time, you know that I have aspirations of cougardom.

Why for, prey tell?

Well, I’m happy you asked.

You see? Its not because I get off on some pre-pubescent kid staring at my hoo-hahs. Its more of a goal rooted in maintaining a certain standard of physicality for the future life partner. In general, I am not a competitive person but when it comes to pleasing the person I love, I will make sure the effort is evident and acknowledged. More importantly, if one makes it to Cougar status, it means she has successfully reinvented herself and not allowed life or her social environment to control when and where she “peaked”. Such a sad and silly case when someone has prematurely peaked.

You know the ones I’m talking about. The large posterior having high school homecoming queen who’s hey day has come and gone. (Eventually, all women’s bodies catch up.) The college star quarterback who couldn’t master the next level, still living in College Town, USA just to gain some semblance of a celebrity status. Cougars are forward thinking, switching up their game as their “peak” approaches.

That’s gangsta.

And I respect that.

In approximately one year and two months, I will be bidding adieu to my 20s. The fortitudinous nature in me is preparing for a game changer that ups my ante. I likes to refer to it as “The Road to Cougardom”. Blink, and you might miss it. Ha!

I study Cougars because they are effortlessly relevant through strategic planning and acute observation.

They understand that there’s always room for growth. Always another level to be reached. Cougars are experts at forecasting, so that no “passengers are on [her] plane.” She understands that’s its far more important to hold attention than to get attention. Life is a game of chess and she definitely makes her “next move, her best move”. A Cougar started out on Similac at birth, Jungle Juice in her teens, Hard Lemonade in her collegiate years, Stella as a young professional, Shiraz as an official adult…casually upgrading to Louis XIII. She understands that at age 28, she didn’t have the taste buds to truly appreciate the latter. She felt no need to fake it until she made it….understanding that she should never carry a purse that’s worth more than what she currently has in hard cash and assets. (Insert Ving Rhames’ excellent speech on guns vs. butter in “Baby Boy”.)

Simple put…Couging ain’t easy.

But its worth it.