The Great Egg Scramble

Everywhere I turn, I'm hearing about women freezing their eggs! It's a topic of three reality shows I'm watching! I have some friends that are going back and forth on the idea, under the gun may I add. By 40, if you have a good egg left it needs to be on ice yesterday! I wish it was legal to run a nitrogen lab out of your house. If it was, I'd be making mad bank son! 

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm happy that God didn't put motherhood on my heart. If he would have, I'd probably be running around frantic like some of the other women in my life. Watching it gives me anxiety, but the fact of the matter is clear: you are born with tons of eggs but not with the love of your life. Sometimes meeting a man is not on the same timeline as your body. I get it, I just feel for the women under this stress. 

My girl Gail from church is 38 with no prospects in sight. She wants kids and is thinking about getting icy with it. It's expensive, plus she's not sure where God stands on the whole process. That adds a whole 'nother layer of stress to the situation. I find myself praying for her while Googling fertility clinics at the same time! 

I'm sad because I know that freeze or no freeze, motherhood is not going to happen for some of the women in my life. It's unfair, and I'm bracing for some of these women to go into a serious mourning over this fact. It's already sort of happening for people I know who can't afford egg freezing or didn't have any viable eggs left. If my eggs weren't scrambled I'd give one to whoever needed one. Whether I want kiddos or not, I really wish that all my friends that want to be mommies could be. 

Mop Drop

Today, I found a job that I think I would be a good fit for. I immediately went to LinkedIn to see if I had anyone in my networks that worked at this place. You know what they say: It's all in who you know. Imagine my dismay when I saw that the only person that I know who works there would be the one person that I am positive would give me a horrible recommendation. She's a girl that I got to know well in college: Mopsie. I call her this because one of my homeboys says that she has the personality of a mop. I don't know if I'd say that. What I will say is that she is very serious and straight-laced. I wouldn't say that she hates me because I think that would be a touch strong. However, she has always seemed a little irritated and exhausted by my very presence. I don't think she thinks I'm a serious person at all, and if she is anything like she was in college, she wouldn't dare recommend me to get hired and possibly make her look bad. Once, I went with her to a party and she gave me a stern talking to in her car, warning me not to embarrass her the way a mama warns her kid not to ask for candy in the grocery store before they go in.

I'd say I'd never done anything to her for her to have these feelings against me, but that's not entirely true. I once laughed out loud when she did something goofy and she glared at me. I could feel her committing the moment to memory for a time such as this. 

I'm also pretty sure she thinks I'm too much. In her defense, when she knew me, I was. Man, I was a ball of drama and emotions! Now I'm a ball of sleepiness and depression like everyone else my age. With that being said, I'd be great for this job! But I guess I will have to get it without Mopsie's blessing, which means competing against thousands of applicants nationwide. This is just more proof that God doesn't like ugly. This will teach me to laugh at an uptight nerd who will one day serve on the C-suite of a huge, successful company during a hiring slowdown. Lesson learned.

Dizzle and the Inmate

I don't know if you've ever had a close friend to pass away. If you ever do, you will find that it doesn't take much to drum up memories of them. Yesterday, I watched a movie called Clemency with Alfre Woodard where she played the warden of a men's prison. This made me think of my friend Dizzle.

Dizzle was not a warden, she was a doctor who, for a short period of time, worked in a men's prison. One of her patients was an inmate that was terminally ill and dying. It was so clear that he was going to die that Dizzle began to advocate for a compassionate release so he could die peacefully amongst friends and family. I mean, according to Dizzle he was sick-sick that his death was guaranteed. It wasn't like he was going to get released then hop on a flight to Japan. 

It's important to note that the doctors were not to know what the inmates did to land themselves in jail. Knowing may influence the quality of care they gave them. So, Dizzle didn't know what this guy did. She just knew he was very ill and thought it would be inhumane for him to die behind bars and she was pretty loud and annoying about this. If you knew Dizzle, you knew she'd make a stink until she got results. Well, the result of this campaign was someone letting it slip that her patient was in jail for child molestation. Yikes. 

Dizzle was an only child who loved kids and wanted a trillion of them if possible, so to find out that she'd been advocating for someone who harmed them was devastating. I don't know if you know a lot of doctors but I went to college with a bunch. They can be a$$h@les. The other doctors took to giving Dizzle a not-so-nick nickname: Little Miss Compassion. It was a rough road for the rest of her stay. 

The thing is that Dizzle was a Little Miss Compassion, 100%, and I sometimes wonder if she would have advocated for him anyway if she'd known what he did from the start. I don't know. Anyway, the movie made me think of this story...

Aunty and the Bras

My aunt recently had a minor breast surgery and, as part of her recovery plan, she had to buy these granny bras that clasp in the front. Three days into her recovery she says, "I like these bras! I need to get some more of these!"

I frowned. You gotta see these bras. They only come in two colors: About To Die White and Elderly Tan.

"No you don't! These bras are too old for you!" I cried. "They are for 90-year-old grannies with Arthritis who can't reach their back bra clasps!"

"But they are sooooo cozy!" she said, doing a little spin. 

These bras are as unsexy as they come. They are perfect for the old lady who has confidently given up any type of cuteness for functionality. My aunt is only 60. Today's 60-year-old women are going on cruises, learning line dances, and dating guys half their age, not embracing the bereavement bra. 

Ladies: have you noticed that your commitment to comfort unintentionally correlates to the rate in which your sexy is slipping? I noticed the slip for me in my mid-30s. I didn't feel as pressed to paint my nails or put on lipstick when I went out. What for? By the time Covid had chewed me up and spit me out, I was as concerned with being cute as I was with learning to fly. 

No woman wants to be viewed as ancient and unbangable, but if that's coming down the pipes anyway, why not welcome it in bloomer panties, oversized night shirts, house shoes, hair rollers, and no-bang bras? Ideally, as a woman, you want to hold on to your hot for as long as possible, but if it can't be done, what are you gonna do?🤷 I know what I'm going to eventually do: lounge in my bonnet while I admire my unpainted nails. 

Pressed Record (Another Risky Business Story)

The other night, Risky called me pretty bummed because she found out that an old partner had recorded them being intimate without her consent. She said this, and I gasped. OMG! All of a sudden, it felt like I was in one of those really bad made-for-TV movies. During a conversation, he casually mentioned that he was watching adult content. Then, to follow that up, he smoothly disclosed that said content was a recording of them together that he had taped secretly. He alleged that he had two such videos like this. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! How intrusive! How scary! How...illegal.

"Are you going to press charges? Do you need me to be on the phone while you do it?" I asked. 

She sighed. "To what end? Just because something is bad, that doesn't mean it's illegal."

"No, I disagree. Doing something like this without consent is equivalent to SA (Se*%ual Assault)," I informed her. At least, I think it is. I know that revenge p&%n is illegal, but she doesn't know for sure if he has posted the recordings anywhere. 

"He said that he hasn't posted the videos; that he just looks at them on his phone," she told me, but neither she nor I really knows if that is the case. 

As the conversation went on, she said that before this, there were red flags that she had ignored, like how randomly, in the middle of their situationship, he announced that he had a girlfriend. She also had reason to believe that he had followed her home. This didn't sit well with me, considering the slew of men who have been in the news for doing their partners in. She said that she was ending contact with this guy, and I suggested that the new man be a better-quality dude. Like most of my friends, she settles for off guys that I know she can do better than. She reminded me of something though that I had not taken into account: they all suck. Hopefully, the next guy doesn't suck so much that he would violate my friend's privacy. 

Pretty Works

Oh child, the internets are mad. 

There is this famous social media mental health professional that is now being outed for allegedly not being a mental health professional at all. Allegedly, she can not provide proof of her doctorate after giving relationship advice across numerous platforms and getting a book deal. The people are not amused. Her explanations for not being able to provide proof of her education also are not adding up or landing well. It's a mess! The people have made it clear that they feel played, but I feel that they played themselves. You see, this woman is very attractive, and I think that the people allowed themselves to be finessed because she is easy on the eyes. Now the poop has hit the perpetual fan and everyone wants to cry that they have been bamboozled. But what do you think is going to happen when you allow beauty to be a credential? It's the oldest deal in the books: being pretty ALWAYS works! 

I have experienced this on way smaller scales throughout my life. In highschool, I remember when my homeboy held the school door open for all the pretty girls getting off the bus but let the door slam in my face. In college, I watched in awe as Big Homie Sans gained access to rooms she had no business being in because she is gorgeous and no one asked any questions. On a more personal note, I had an old editor tell me she didn't think I should work red carpet events because I don't have the "Hollywood Look". I guess I wouldn't. I'm from Atlanta🤡 #peaceupatowndown. Because of all of this, I was not at all surprised by the alleged allegations against this mental health professional. I am surprised that people still don't want to admit how much outward appearance means to folks to the point that they could potentially buy whatever anyone hot is selling. 

I guess I am also annoyed because I know if she were not attractive making the same professional claims, America would have ran her background like a marathon. I'm also annoyed that there are probably many confirmed credentialed mental health professionals on social media that will never get this lady's numbers. I mean, this is the case across professions. Could you imagine if the genius, very capable Stacey Abrams looked like Tyra Banks? She'd be governor of Georgia right now! Look at Sheryl Underwood, the accomplished comedian and TV host. She recently participated in a roast for Kevin Hart, and all people could talk about was her late husband's suicide and how ugly they thought she was. They clearly didn't have the same smoke for Regina Hall. 

Things are looking grim for this mental health professional now but remember, she is beautiful. I think everyone will forgive her and she will probably get some new gigs out of this because remember, pretty works.

Young and Fresh

I got to talk to Willa this week! She is a young woman I mentored as a volunteer when she was in middle and high schools. Now, she is a recent college graduate and I couldn't be happier for her! She has some immediate career plans and wants to go to grad school. I'm really excited for her! She told me some hilarious stories about her college experience, and for some reason, her stories made me think of my post-graduate magazine internship supervisor: LD. 

LD could be a lot and, although I think it could be unintentional, could also be cruel, like the time she told me she felt I was full of parasites because of my eating habits. That is a story for another time. Apparently, during our internship interviews, when asked about what we could bring to the magazine, many of us said we thought we could bring a "young and fresh" perspective. Later, after we were well into the internship, something triggered her having a full-on ageist meltdown where she proclaimed something along the lines of "And no one cares about you all being young and fresh! No one's trying to go back there!" Admittedly, I thought I was dealing with a perimenopausal boss who had an ax to grind with young people. However, after talking to Willa, I can honestly say that I don't want to be young and fresh either. 

Willa is amazing, and I am excited for the beautiful things coming her young and fresh way. I do miss the optimism I had during this time. However, I don't miss the insecurities. I am also now fully aware of the hard times that were torpedoing my way while I danced at rooftop parties. Young and Fresh be damned, I am happy to not be there again, even if I'm still healing from some of my young and fresh disappointments. 

When talking to Willa, I made sure I was encouraging. Unlike LD, it was not my goal to make her feel dumb for being young, although my personal experiences tell me that some of her plans needed a bit of polishing. And that's fine, she's got her whole life in front of her. That's the beauty of being young and fresh.