(no subject)
Per my and Daniel's usual Sunday night pizza and ABC shows (Extreme Makeover Home Edition, Desperate Housewives, and Brothers and Sisters.) This is our time set aside to spend together. He's working a lot lately. His regular 9 to 5 plus working the radio station Friday nights, and Saturday and Sunday afternoons and occasional weeknigths, plus working for the fire department (doing run reports and doind actual runs.) So, it's nice that we have a set time when we are going to definitely spend together.
Also, Daniel has proven himself to be a GREAT man by the following convo last night:
Me: I found the cutest red peep-toe pumps and I want them so bad, but I don't have a reason to wear them.
D: You could wear them for Pentecost. (In the Presbyterian Church you wear Red on Pentecost Sunday.)
When does a man give you an excuse to buy shoes? Shoes you don't really need? Yay!
One of my friends Rae Whitlock posted this in his journal and I could not resist reposting it because it very much describes my feelings towards the whole Don Imus issue:
Great article by Jason Whitlock (no relation . . . I don’t think, anyway) on the Don Imus “nappy hoes” hubbub.
An excerpt:
Thank you, Don Imus. You extended Black History Month to April, and we can once again wallow in victimhood, protest like it’s 1965 and delude ourselves into believing that fixing your hatred is more necessary than eradicating our self-hatred.
The bigots win again.
While we’re fixated on a bad joke cracked by an irrelevant, bad shock jock, I’m sure at least one of the marvelous young women on the Rutgers basketball team is somewhere snapping her fingers to the beat of 50 Cent’s or Snoop Dogg’s or Young Jeezy’s latest ode glorifying nappy-headed pimps and hos.
I ain’t saying Jesse, Al and Vivian are gold-diggas, but they don’t have the heart to mount a legitimate campaign against the real black-folk killas.
It is us. At this time, we are our own worst enemies. We have allowed our youths to buy into a culture (hip hop) that has been perverted, corruptese are very similar to the ed and overtaken by prison culture. The music, attitude and behavior expressed in this culture is anti-black, anti-education, demeaning, self-destructive, pro-drug dealing and violent.
Rather than confront this heinous enemy from within, we sit back and wait for someone like Imus to have a slip of the tongue and make the mistake of repeating the things we say about ourselves.
Yeah . . . yeah, pretty much, Mr. Whitlock. You are a credit to our race, and to our last name. I salute you.
Though I am white I feel that these are th correct sentiments to this issue.
Work is going well. Busy.
Home is great.
My best friend Beth is currently in the hospital and will be having surgery to remove one of her ovaries in the morning. So, please pray for her. She's got a husband and two little boys and she needs to be up and running as soon as possible. Please pray.
Also, Daniel has proven himself to be a GREAT man by the following convo last night:
Me: I found the cutest red peep-toe pumps and I want them so bad, but I don't have a reason to wear them.
D: You could wear them for Pentecost. (In the Presbyterian Church you wear Red on Pentecost Sunday.)
When does a man give you an excuse to buy shoes? Shoes you don't really need? Yay!
One of my friends Rae Whitlock posted this in his journal and I could not resist reposting it because it very much describes my feelings towards the whole Don Imus issue:
Great article by Jason Whitlock (no relation . . . I don’t think, anyway) on the Don Imus “nappy hoes” hubbub.
An excerpt:
Thank you, Don Imus. You extended Black History Month to April, and we can once again wallow in victimhood, protest like it’s 1965 and delude ourselves into believing that fixing your hatred is more necessary than eradicating our self-hatred.
The bigots win again.
While we’re fixated on a bad joke cracked by an irrelevant, bad shock jock, I’m sure at least one of the marvelous young women on the Rutgers basketball team is somewhere snapping her fingers to the beat of 50 Cent’s or Snoop Dogg’s or Young Jeezy’s latest ode glorifying nappy-headed pimps and hos.
I ain’t saying Jesse, Al and Vivian are gold-diggas, but they don’t have the heart to mount a legitimate campaign against the real black-folk killas.
It is us. At this time, we are our own worst enemies. We have allowed our youths to buy into a culture (hip hop) that has been perverted, corruptese are very similar to the ed and overtaken by prison culture. The music, attitude and behavior expressed in this culture is anti-black, anti-education, demeaning, self-destructive, pro-drug dealing and violent.
Rather than confront this heinous enemy from within, we sit back and wait for someone like Imus to have a slip of the tongue and make the mistake of repeating the things we say about ourselves.
Yeah . . . yeah, pretty much, Mr. Whitlock. You are a credit to our race, and to our last name. I salute you.
Though I am white I feel that these are th correct sentiments to this issue.
Work is going well. Busy.
Home is great.
My best friend Beth is currently in the hospital and will be having surgery to remove one of her ovaries in the morning. So, please pray for her. She's got a husband and two little boys and she needs to be up and running as soon as possible. Please pray.