BLACK WITH CRACKS

Women who wear excessive foundation bother me - especially when the hug me and I'm wearing white.

Recently, I ran into a woman I had not seen in eons. Ol' girl hugged me tight while pressing her highly 'decorated' cheek against my au naturale one.

When I finally arrived home to happily wash of the NYC grime, I noticed a HUGE spot on my cheekbone that looked like a bruise from a brawl. After my initial shock, I realized ol' girl's mocca foundation and purple blush smeared on my face. I was annoyed (but glad this makeup offender dodged my white shirt) and was astonished to discover that the hug-press-your-cheek-against mine had extended to my line of my jaw!

I've seen this woman before and she is always 'decorated'. Don't women know by now that applying massive amounts of foundation and whatever else can clog your pores further? Your pores need to breathe for goodness sake. People aren't stupid and makeup doesn't hide everything. We see your blemishes.

Further, what do women like this do when they're in a relationship? Apply makeup before going to bed? Or, say if they're getting down with their boyfriend/partner/husband - unless you're into straight missionary and don't turn your head and the brother never holds your face tenderly or tries to kiss you, the makeup won't come off but otherwise, you're dirtying their sheets! One or two times may be passable but what man wants to sleep with a woman who leaves brown all over the sheet? Yuck.

It’s alright to be gussied up and beautied out sometimes but e'eryday? Do THESE women wear white? You know what? They're probably the ones that try on clothes and when another woman goes to purchase the item, the size she needs is the makeup stained one your excessive foundation-self left behind because you left the stained and picked up a fresh one.

Lighten up on the makeup ladies and recognize that part of your beauty is your flaws. Even Betsy them. No, only one. ;-)

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

The recap: easy week, not much

On tap: MANJINGA MASQUERADE PARTY @ SPUTNIK w/SAMBA DANCERS & LIVE DRUMMERS: FREE B4 10PM $7. w/RSVP OCTOBER 31ST
262 Taafe Place, by Dekalb Ave.
Brooklyn
9:00pm - 4:00am
FREE B4 10:00pm, $10 After
$7 with RSVP
Drink specials all night
G to Classon
www.myspace.com/manjingaparty

BAD ECONOMY & CRIME

Seems like each time I pick up a newspaper or watch tv, there is talk of a bad economy - layoffs, foreclosures, gauge-like gas prices and stay-cations (staying at home for vacation instead of traveling). The one thing I haven't heard much about, conceivably a direct effect of the aforementioned, is crime rates. In the last several weeks, three people I know have been robbed. One person was pick-pocketed; another robbed at gunpoint and the last, an assault (near beat down) and robbery. Two of the three crimes were committed by young men who thus far, have not been apprehended.

It's easy to cry, "Foul!" and rightfully so, but this seems to point to a larger issue at hand - folks are desperate and making crime an option. When someone gets jailed for stealing a cell phone, that's sheer stupidity.

I met a young man recently in rehabilitation/education program that was on the brink of 'graduating' and needed a job. After applying for a few jobs with no callbacks yet, he expressed that he didn't want to commit another crime (robbery) but he was growing weary of stomach pains due to hunger. He lives with him mom and she doesn't work so the both of them are sitting around starving and having a swallow your spit contest. Clearly, his stupidity was a big part of the problem (stealing doesn't pay) but his story was real. The problem was and is, there are others in this situation that see violating other people as an option. They may be uneducated coupled with desperation and in the streets. A smart person in the streets would have went a church, food pantry or soup kitchen to eat and get information on social services.

So folks, just a message to be more alert (get off that blackberry when walking home, especially in the night; have your keys in your hand before you get to your car or house door; avoid going in your wallet repeatedly for small purchases [like puffy cheese doodles] - keep a five spot in your front pocket, etc.) which will greatly reduce the chance of being jacked.

Birthday shout out to KD!!!!!

The recap: Habana Outpost with QB! Thanks for a great afternoon. At 3:30 pm the food hit the spot. At 3:30 am, I was on the toilet with the worst stomach pains ever. That was a clear message from my stomach: "Don't eat food from a truck silly." The message was repeated at 4:10 am. Had to share and hopefully save some folks from the same plight. Habana will NOT be seeing my money again.

On tap: Vote & Live! tonight at the Tribeca Grand. It's gonna be big.
We are screening two films about how the GOP stole the past two elections and how they are planning to do it again. very important. please spread the word and do whatever you can to help us elevate the visibility of the event and the issue.
And if the future of democracy isn't enough we are having a great party upstairs with DJs Spinna, Moni, Blu Jemz, Herbert Holler, plus speakers including Kevin Powell and City Councilperson Gale Brewer. Doors at 8:30. open wine bar until the river runs dry. screenings at 9:00.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BETTER WEEKS AHEAD

Betsy is having a long week and the weekend is not even here yet. I've been under the weather (but recouping) and some folks graciously offered to take care of me. One of those offers was grossly unwanted.

The story: A coworker has been CHATTING my ears off for weeks and I've endured this man's conversation upon conversion upon conversation. One day he said to me, "I was thinking about you this weekend and that's pretty big because I never think about my coworkers." I wasn't thinking about him. Another time dude says, "I was thinking about you again but didn't have your number to call." I changed the topic of the conversation. Third time, "Hey, give me you number so we can talk. You ran across my mind the other day. I wanted to talk to you but didn't have your number." It would be almost impossible to call if someone never gave you their number. Finally he said, "What's your number?" Folks, I couldn't get out of that one so I gave him the digits with this addendum, "I rarely answer my phone so best text me."

A non-thirsted out man would have read between the lines and never sent me a text but not ol' boy. He sent a text to find out how my weekend was going. "Swell," I thought to myself. "We can talk during normal business hours and not Saturday afternoon."

When Betsy was out sick from work, he sent a text that was something to the effect of, "Hey, I rushed into the office to see you today and you weren't there. Heard you're out sick. Sorry to hear but let me know if you need anything. I can use my Dr. Feel Good Hands to make you feel better. Bleh, bleh bleh." People, what kind of what stuff is that? We're coworkers for goodness sake! I've never even hinted that we should be anything but amicable staff members. In fact, when he offered to take me out to lunch, I dipped out on him and he was a bit irate. Said I needed to get some fresh air. From his hovering self.

Not only is this man WAY inappropriate, he'll also qualify for a social security check - next year!

The kicker now is that he's throwing me shade! I said hello to him one day and he walked right by. Tried this a second time and he acted like it was painful for him to say hi.

Note: work is place of business, not a playground. I don't play in sandboxes that belong to dirty old men.

The recap: Danny Simmons art fundraiser. Tres cool.

On tap: Havana Outpost this weekend folks!

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BUDGETING

The other day, I bought a pair of shoes, not the flats I originally set out to buy but instead, a pair of fancy stilettos that were well, too fabulous to resist.

This purchase led major purchasing contemplation. I've always bought what I wanted (within reason) and paid my credit card off in full at the end of the month but, and I hate to say this, the recession is really affecting me. When I actually sat down do a serious budget (again), I realized how my grocery expense had increased by at least 20%. The tissue boxes at Family Dollar used to be $3.50; now they're $4.50. A half-gallon of ice cream used to be $4.99; now it's a quart and change (damn company shrunk the carton thinking folks wouldn't notice) which means I have to buy the Cookies & Cream flavor frequently. For the first time I bought some random brand of chicken because it was on sale. My commitment to Perdue could not be sustained when a pack of their chicken is $6.39/lb. I had to buy the $1.99/lb no-frills brand sale joint I never heard of. I cut back on the cab rides, started washing some dry clean only clothes in the washer but my dollars still seem to be disappearing.

On top of that, the NYC Comptroller William Thompson announced that over the next two years, NYC will lose 165,000 jobs; 35,000 of them will be in the financial services sector. And my friend was layed off recently - 1 of the 35,000 jobs the comptroller talked about- already. In a way, I've been able to rebuke this talk of recession. I was having a great life, living it up over the summer but when my friend lost her job it was like the dude at the end of Spike Lee's School Daze screaming, "WAKE UP!!!!!!" I'm up, I'm up, I'm up!

A departure from the usual mélange of musings but this incessant talk of recession is troubling. So my new shoes isn't really the problem (though I could have paid a bill or two with that money) but I'm looking at ways to cut back and with the exception of using candles instead of Con-Ed and eating Ramen noodles (never had those), my coffers are looking mighty low. I even thought about getting a second job but truthfully, the idea of working at some mindless retail job for $12/hour is even more depressing.

This all brings me to this - entrepreneurship. According to the comptroller, almost 1 out of every 5 persons is self-employed. Besides the computer technology industry, seems like folks should be moving their business ideas forward.

So, is anyone finding more financial success as a f/t entrepreneur? Anyone have a side hustle that is bringing in some good bucks? Anyone lost a job and is now branching out on their own f/t? Or, let us know your cutback plan.

Share your story folks!

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR - OVERWOOING

I was irate with a fellow I dated because he wasn't a good communicator. Dude insisted on sending IMs instead of picking up the phone to talk. I'm cool with some text messaging and IMs BUT that should be supplemental communication, not primary.

A mischievous angel must have understood/heard my plea because lo and behold, along came a brother that called and texted me so often that I dubbed it “overwooing.”

At first, I was alright with it; I even found it flattering. However, after less than a week of conversing, dude asked me to marry him. At first, I chuckled. Hahaha, that was cute. It was cute when he said it again for the second time the following day. But, in less than a week he brought up the Jagged Edge, “meet me at the alter” four times! Listen folks, I want to get married but not to someone whose last name is a mystery and I’ve yet to go on a first date with. The last 'marriage' conversation went something like "We can get married next month." As in November – before Thanksgiving. LOL. He has a job so it’s not like he wants to get own my health insurance…you know how some folks do.

I'm not in love with him nor am I in need of a shotgun wedding (see previous post). If this is idea of joking, the humor exited the building a while ago.

Again, generally, I like a man that calls morning, noon and night - just to say hello (LOL).... not extensive-talk-your-ear-off conversations. But this brother wants to talk in the morning for 20 minutes, during an entire lunch break, when I get home from work and right before I go to sleep. LOL. He has a lot to say and I have a lot to listen to I suppose. Men, please do not get discouraged by going "hard body" - a term my male friends from the Bronx use to describe, "hollering hard". But when you volunteer to be a househusband, call incessantly to the point where I turn my phone volume off, your hard body approach becomes a major turnoff.

Oh yes, there was this other guy that volunteered to drive almost 30 minutes from his house to mine…to take me to the Laundromat. It was a nice gesture though :-) Mr. Papers for President, some men like going out of their way for a sister! :-)

The recap: Nada

On tap: Banana-cinnamon pancakes for breakfast tomorrow and ladies night out in the evening. Ladies, drinks at my house if you want. Holler.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BUST IT BABY...

Betsy totally believes in life happening in this order – wedding, bedding then conception.

Realist that I am though, I recognize things do not always happen in that order - or even under those circumstances.

The story: I ran into a man I dated a million years ago and we start catching up about our respective lives. I didn’t see a ring on his finder (and no, I wasn’t trying to holler back) so I jokingly asked, “When is the wedding?” Dude starts stammering an almost incomprehensible answer and finally, I piece it together. The woman he’s with (and has been with on and off over the last few years) is pregnant. Since they now live together, they’re clearly having an ‘on’ moment.

The shacking up isn’t necessarily newsworthy but Betsy was astonished by his response – he doesn’t want to have children out of wedlock. Guess he didn’t buy Fantasia’s first album which included the hit, “Baby Mama.” The idea of running down the aisle - A SHOTGUN WEDDING!!! - because ol’ girl is prego is very noble however, what did they expect when they were sexing sans protection? When you hit it raw, there is a very real chance of pregnancy occurring. Dude seemed a bit shaken. He should have listened to Wyclef’s song, Anything Can Happen “Sex with no condoms, oh no, that will never happen.” I would like to add…until marriage. That’s the utopian side of me slipping in. LOL

Feel free to chime in…especially the baby mamas and daddys.

The recap: Shout out to EM for helping to make my mini-vacation, fantastic and inclusive of multiple scrumptious breakfasts! (can you pluralize breakfast?)

On tap: Sleep

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BUY ME A DRANK

Betsy like drinks, especially when they're free. A quick survey concluded that other women (and men) enjoy free drinks proffered at a club/lounge. It’s not that we (women) cannot buy our own drinks. Quite the contrary. It is more chivalrous (and seemingly tastes better) when some lovely gentleman buys it.

This is what I've encountered: A Trinidadian, Guyanese, Grenadian or any caribbean man will whine your waist out, see you choking because your throat is so parched from dancing with him for the last 18 soca songs and because he refused to let you go, you’re sweating like you just ran the 25K marathon. To add insult to injury, he will politely excuse himself to buy a red bull or Heineken for himself (unless it's a real caribbean party and they're selling Ting - he'll opt for that).

American men will hip hop you to death, rapping and spitting in your face to some Jigga song like they created the lyrics. After, they'll say, "Excuse Miss, what’s your name?” Followed by, “I’ll be back after I get this drink. I like the way you move." Is that whack ‘compliment’ supposed to keep you rooted to the floor thirsty? Thirsty, I say! Dudes between Rhode Island and New Jersey will just slip away then you see their head bobbing at the bar. SMH

The exceptions are southern men. Those southerners like to have a good time and will buy you a drank before they even start blocking your spot and your man-traffix. Actually, the southerners Betsy encountered buy bottles and just sway all night. With the exception of go-go, these fellas are quite content to have a drink and a two-step.


The one group of men Betsy has to give a shout out to is Nigerian men. Maybe it’s something in the kokoro or jollof rice but these brothers like to buy everyone in their vicinity a drink. No, make that drinks. Why? They know how to have a good time and like to share the wealth. It's called good club/party citizenry. Note to men: follow this lead.

So ladies, the next time you’re out and some tight, cheap brother wants to dance you to death, point at your throat and say, “Buy me a drank. Whatcha think about that?” And no you can't come home with me. LOL

The recap: lounge in Brooklyn. Shout out to MT for dragging Betsy out of her bed and shout out to WP for joining the festivities.

On Tap: Lots. Details to follow.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Ice

BAD BREATH

Have you ever started talking to someone and immediately their breath burned your nostrils? Well that happened to Betsy today. It’s one thing when someone is talking to you and his or her breath is foul but the ultimate tragedy is when the person asks a question and you open your mouth to respond - letting the toxic odor permeate your mouth. Then, their breath is so odiferous, heavy and tart, it seems to land on your tongue, allowing you to taste hot, raging frowsy funk.

While on the bus this afternoon, this girl asked me if my phone was good. I replied, "Hmmm?" hoping that give her breath some time to dissipate before answering. I erred in my thinking. This girl must have eaten a skunk and hummus sandwich topped with extra garlic and pickles for lunch because surely a fire rose up from the pit of her stomach to manifest itself as bad breath.

What made it even worse was that she was sitting next to me talking to her pops. Couldn't her dad say something or offer her a cool drink (look like he had a bag of groceries) to douse the flames that blazed in his daughter’s mouth? And, he KNEW her joint was humming because he kept rubbing his noise when she spoke. Shame on him.

If that wasn’t enough, it became apparent that bad breath ran in the family. The father's breath was raging too!! Each time he spoke, the daughter sniffed or rubbed her nose. I held my breath because the dad's joint was like an INFERNO!!! My gosh. My eyes were watering and this man was talking like his life depended on the conversation. Talk about hot. It was a million degrees in his mouth. His mouth needs to be hosed down by a fire truck.

Everyone has bad breath at some point but this father-daughter duo took first place in stank.

Speaking of which, RANDOM QUESTION: why do children wake up before sunrise, stare at you until you wake open only to ask if you're awake? LOL

On tap: First Friday at the Brooklyn Museum filled with all the Havana Outpost, I'm-so-creative-my-artsy-fartsy-oozes from-my-every-pore-types. Yes, I may be there as well. lol

Lata Lovelies,
Betsy Ice