FANCY FOOTWORK

So Betsy was out getting her party on recently. I love to drop it like it’s hot and scrub the floor with it but, I’m also a selfish dancer – I like to dance solo. These days, I find that men either can’t dance, can’t follow my rhythm or they’re just interested in well, physically showing me what they’re working with. Save that for the women who like the in the club stuff Ursher sang about.

Anyway, I was dancing and this dude came over. My two-step sans drink was going quite well but I was also amenable to dancing with this brother. Key word dancing, not grinding. Folks, the dj starting playing Biggie Smalls, Method Man, Beenie Siegel and whatever ‘hard’ music you can think of that requires one to NOT dub. Why was this brother pressed up on me like a too-tight faux ponytail on a scalp? I tried to give him the hint by moving away but he kept pressing up. Frustrated, I stopped dancing completely and he just kept on keeping on. Even more so! I guess he wanted to show me just how much and how fancy his footwork was so he tried to press me up against the wall.

Though I’m young, I’m way past to point of being pressed up the wall, unless I really want to…and I’m at home. LOL. Seriously, brothers, that’s whack though I’m certain the men that are always seeking out big booty women will disagree (right, Mr. Papers? LOL).

Parting in the 90’s was much better when everyone danced. Men had to do the Kid-N-Play Kick Step or the Bogle while women did the Mike Tyson or the Butterfly. Sigh…I miss those days…

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy “Baller” Ice

FAKE FACEBOOK FRIENDS

I am annoyed when people ask if I have, or request my facebook address. Are you kidding me? You have my mobile number, home phone number, my momma's number, all eight of my emails PLUS you send texts and are one of my buddies on my bberry instant messenger as well as AIM. Do you REALLY need another mode of communication?

Quite frankly, Facebook, or rather FB as the hardcore users affectionately refer to it, is generally a waste of my time. My life is so full of things and people (some of which need to be cleared) that the last thing I need is to respond to a gazillion people on Facebook.

Finally though, I buckled to pressure and created a page. I saw MAD people from high school which was initially nostalgic but then I also spent a warm sunny Saturday twirling on FB with pseudo-socialization, updating myself on who’s married and who’s your baby daddy instead of going to Habana Outpost with the sidity folks and wonder breads.

One of my friends has become an online super sleuth, unearthing tidbits of information then turning it over into full storylines, akin to Days of Our Lives. I'm not mad at her; actually, I find it interesting especially when she shares the stories with me. I don't want to do the work but I sure don't mind knowing sometimes. And perhaps that in itself is the problem with FB and the other social networking sites – there’s so much information floating around – from your ‘status’ to who you know that one’s life becomes as public as a politician.

Anyway, I was "talking" to someone I went to high school with. We lost contact over the years but when I became one of her "friends" ol' girl started updating me about her life now and sent her digits. She even invited me to her birthday party! We used to rock hard in high school so instead of sending another delayed response, I called her. She never called me back. What kind of stupidness is that? And ol’ girl is STILL sending messages. What do we have to talk about because she certainly didn’t want to chat it up on the phone but wants to tell me her she’s married with children and where she lives?

Quite frankly, I don't want to be "friends" with her anymore. If it was a regular friend, whom I communicate with sans FB, I wouldn't care but here's this person I haven't spoken to in almost a decade and she's telling me everything under the sun via FB but ain't return a call? Nah, B.

Besides that, Kanye made a statement recently about not needing Twitter because everything it offers, he needs less. I cosign that ‘Ye!

Read the full albeit quick article here: http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-talk-kanye-twittermay14,0,2813941.column


Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy “Baller” Ice

EXTREMELY BUSY

Today, I called out "under the weather". Nothing is physically wrong with me nor am I frolicking in the 82° weather NYC folks are currently enjoying. I woke up at the break of dawn with a list of things to do longer than Santa Clause’s. I have a notebook with things to do for the week, bberry calendar reminders (not real dates) of people to call, an ongoing “note” of things to buy, people to email and so forth.

So today, my calling out "under the weather" a mental health day. You know those days where your mind is everywhere else but the job at hand. Instead of being 90% inefficient, I sent a text to my boss and rolled over to fall back asleep. My mind is so bogged down by things, that it took an hour for me to fall asleep. I finally officially rolled out of bed around 11 am, still quite unrested. When your mind is heavy with things, sleep is an anomaly.

In the last three hours, I’ve been able to have breakfast (an experience almost forgotten) and made a salad for lunch. Then, my day officially began. I FINALLY wrote a message in my friend’s birthday card. Her birthday was six weeks ago. Since I was on the card-writing tip, I wrote another to my friend who had a baby seven weeks ago. The gift card has been tucked in my bag for five weeks because I didn’t have a stamp.

When did life become so complicated and busy for no damn reason? Honestly, I took off a day to catch up on emails, write cards, organize shoes and eat two meals at a reasonable pace because lately I’ve had five minutes for lunch. Maybe that’s why my tummy seems more upset these days.

I used to be way more organized and now I do things on an as needed basis. Like today. My cable box had the “- - - -” instead of the time. For all the folks that pay their cable bill on time, the dashes mean your joint is off. And if you have the triple play package, your phone and internet will be shut down momentarily. The sad part is before your services are interrupted, you get a letter…maybe three. That’s a problem because opening mail is on the bottom of the list. Then there are the phone calls. I check vm about one/month so that’s as good as not calling.

I called the cable company because those overcharging suckers must have made a mistake. In my haughtiest voice, I asked the customer service representative when was the last payment made. Surely it was last month. Ol’ girl said February. Oh.

Anyone have perfect work-life balance? Hollers because I need to get organized, focused and back to living instead of existing. Can’t keep playing hooky to pay bills…

Thought this was funny - http://www.wikihow.com/Call-in-Sick-when-You-Just-Need-a-Day-Off

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Baller Ice

EYELASHES

I recently saw this broad with super fake eyelashes that may have looked good two weeks ago but not the day I saw her. A considerable middle portion of the faux eyelashes was missing. Imagine: a person has 4 cm of eyelashes. 1 cm of eyelash on the left, 2 cm missing in the middle and 1 cm missing on the right. It’s like having beautiful white teeth – all except the two front toofs. LOL.

Eyelashes are a style, perhaps even for special occasions but not every single day like you grew them. No, you glued them.

I know a woman whom I met her four years ago who ONLY wears fake eyelashes. Even when there's a single, solitary lash remaining, the glue is showing and it’s hanging off like a stray strand, ol' girl still rocks it. How long does a person have to keep fake eyelashes on to make them drop off because the "full lashes" in the picture is like an overgrown bush on your eyes! And she blinks continuously like a cartoon character trying to woo a man. I'm all for trends but there comes a point when you have to be first partaker.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Baller Ice

EXPOSED

The only thing worse than nappy chest hair is exposed butt cracks. I despise the sight of some oversized woman squeezed into a size 4 pair of jeans. It’s bad enough that the fat rolls are hanging over the front buttons/tabs but when ol’ girl sits down, you can see her black azz. Absolutely repulsive. When she stands, she’ll try to pull up the pants to hide the booty, but had she wore her size to begin with, I would not be subject to ashy azz.

On the flip side are these young dudes walking around with their jeans BELTED around their knees. Showing off designer drawers is only sexy when you’re with your significant other (and at that point – who cares? They’re probably coming off anyway. LOL.) When they sit down, nothing but ASHY AZZ. Yuck. Has anyone heard of lotion?

Ladies and Gentlemen, please don’t let me see you this summer showing cracks like the broad in the picture. Ol’ girl didn’t even know I was taking the picture.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsty Baller Ice

EXCHANGING INFORMATION

Why do men still bother to whip out cell phones, pen and paper in a club?

I was at a few soirees recently and dudes were on the, “Can we exchange information?” tip. At this point in my life, the last thing I want to do is fumble around my bag for my phone or even worse – pen and paper – to jot down my digits. When I asked these brothers if they had a card, they looked startled. I know it’s a social event but sometimes that’s the best time to meet someone, whether for pleasure later or business (there’s a lot of hand-shaking and back-slappin’ when folks are “nice”). My business card case is closer than my phone so I handed one brother my card. He said, “Oh, is this a business transaction?” Silly. Every interaction is a transaction; it just depends on how you categorize it.

The following day I was at another party full of Friday nighters – the folks who epitomize the old school song “Just got paid…it’s Friday night…party hunting…” kind. Men were TROLLING for women. It was just awful. One brother came right up in my face and I asked him if he was blind because he had sunglasses on in an already too dark club. He said I was gorgeous. While that is true (☺), he tried to justify the situation by saying he was hung over. I’m really digressing. Back to the exchange. So, I met another brother and gave him my card. He said he didn’t have a “card in a club” but would be right back because he wanted to write his information on my card.” And herein lies my annoyance. He wound up coming 'round five minutes later with his number, email, ss#, height, weight and measurements on a napkin that was certain to get lost. Whack. Whack. Whack.

I understand if you only have "work" cards but then say something clever like my friend MT put it, "Drop me a line or call me and we can exchange information when he can hear each other and not get jostled on the dance floor." That's mature. And finally, when I do give out my information, it's because I want to talk. Don’t send a text, IM or email. That is supplemental communication. Use the phone and call after 9pm if you’re hoarding day minutes.

Finally, finally, when a man is insistent on giving Betsy his number, I simply say, “Sir, thank you for the offering to stay in contact but I am certain I’m not going to call you. Ever.”

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Baller Ice

P.S. - the image is really a business card.

EXTRA BABY BEHAVIOR

People love to bring their kids to work which inevitably becomes a side show when other folks start fawning all over them. I love children but to be frank, I’m just not interested in my colleagues’ kids. Despite the cooing and the fire-drill like commotion, I’m trying to work – complete projects that my damn supervisor (one of the biggest cooers by the way) need – before the end of the day.

For me, a baby or toddler is not a new phenomenon. I grew up in a relatively large household. Babies cry and burb. Dirty diapers have to be changed. Bottles have to be warmed. Similac tastes nasty. Toddlers snatch your lollipop and when you snatch it back, they start crying and your mother starts yelling at you that you should have never taunted the child with the lollipop when all you do was take two licks of a grape Blowpop. I digress.

Though I’m not a parent yet (thanks to all the gentlemen that submitted applications over the years), the last thing I will want are strangers breathing their hot, heavy breath all over my baby AND touching them. My mother always warned against touching baby’s hands and feet UNLESS you washed your hands because those limbs are the first ones that go in a baby’s mouth. I know I still like my toes sucked. LOL

I usually feel obligated at some point to say “Oh, you’re child is so adorable,” without breaking my stride to a meeting or the bathroom. My life is filled with beautiful, intelligent children in the form of a niece, Godchildren and the offspring of my friends and family. Outside of that, someone else’s random child doesn’t register on my radar though every so often, a child is so beautiful or they are surrounded by good energy that I have to utter a heartfelt, “Your child IS adorable.”

Lastly, pictures. Parents, please know that if a colleague has never inquired about your child’s behalf, they’re probably not interested in their life. Stop sending pictures. Also, stop telling people that your “son is in the office today. He’s Minnie Me.” Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be sure to avoid your office today.

Lata Lovelies,
-Betsy Baller Ice