On being 40 something, cliches' and things mama used to say...

They say that youth is wasted on the young.
That is true!
Cause if I knew then what I know now…

I remember being 16 and thinking that 40 yr. olds were old and corny.
And now, I’m one of them.
But I’m not old or corny.
I’m comfortable/ in this skin.
The word ‘NO’ falls freely from my lips!
And I’m not really interested in what people think… anymore.

Being tall and self-conscious as a girl, I lied about my age.
I graduated from high school a year early.
So when all of my friends were turning 18,
I was turning 17.
I was so embarrassed about this.
Funny thing is, when all of my friends were turning 40,
I would quickly tell them, while laughing, that I was still 39!

I cried before my 40th birthday.
It just wasn't as sexy as 30.

But being this age is a gift.
There's some 'lovely' in these years.
Knowing yourself.
Knowing your body.
Knowing your boundaries
And the sex is great!

I’ve got some lines around my smile and a wrinkle or two.
But I’ve discovered the beauty of Oil of Olay,
eating my vegetables,
and getting those 8 glasses of water in every day.

I have an afro of gray hair at the top of my head.
But I’ve taught myself how to apply that Bigen 58 Black/Brown very nicely.
I know that I HAVE to workout to maintain my weight.
And that 4 hours of sleep just isn’t enough.

My lower back shows out every now and again.
But my Moonwalk is still tight!

I'm just now embracing things that I've known all along.
Things like~ If something is truly mine, no one can take it.
Like~ sometimes it's a blessing to NOT get everything that you want.
Like~ there’s always, always, always something better around the corner
if you just hold on.
Like~ if you have one true friend then you are rich!
Like~ the only thing that’s really real is Love.

I get that it's not just me!
That EVERYBODY has a story.
That most of us are just doing the best we can.
Trying to get to/more happy/more comfort/more love.
Wanting to belong to something/somebody
Wanting to know that someone somewhere has our back.

What I know now more than ever…is exactly how much I don’t know.
And the older I get the less I need.
My family is the true blessing!
Quiet is better than the Club.
And sometimes sleep is better than sex. Sometimes!

So I celebrate myself today.
My beautifully flawed, wonderful self.
*pops bottle*

THIS IS IT

Said I wasn’t going to see ‘This Is It’.
Thought it was too soon.
I went.
Said I wasn’t going to cry.
Thought it’d be a happy occasion.
And it was a happy occasion.
But I cried.
I’m grateful that I didn’t follow my initial instincts.
I would have missed the opportunity to witness Michael’s genius one last time.

‘This Is It ’the concert was simply going to be the greatest live show ever done.
Imagine ‘Thriller’ in 3D, Michael running out of movie scenes, fire rumblin’ round’ the stage.

‘This is It’ the movie is the school of Michael Jackson.
It’s where you learn how legends do it.
It’s where the magic begins.

Make no mistake, Michael was put here to do this!

I saw a Michael Jackson that was at the TOP of his game.
I saw a 50 yr. old man move effortlessly with dancers half his age.
I saw humility and l.o.v.e
I saw the kind of confidence that you pray for.
I saw a man that hadn’t toured in 12 yrs.
or recorded a studio album in 8
perform like there was never a break in between.

I watched a nurturing, giving Michael who paid great attention to detail.
I watched an icon that wanted his crew to shine.
No yelling, no ego,
even when he was dissatisfied with something he guided them with care.

I cried because he sung ‘Human Nature’ so beautifully I was speechless.
I cried for the dancers and the crew~ who’d dreamt of that moment.
Who’d spent months learning from the master himself.
And 8 days before they were scheduled to leave it all came crashing down.
I cried for you and I cause this loss is so great.
I cried for Michael Jackson.

I left the theatre feeling elated. inspired.
wanting to do more.
wanting to give more.
wanting to be more.
wanting to be excellent.

Michael Joseph Jackson 1958-2009

I’m not supposed to be writing this blog entry.
Not this one. Not now. Maybe 35 years from now, but not now.
And I do not want to write this blog, but I have to.
Cause I loved Michael Jackson. I love Michael Jackson. Michael Joseph Jackson.

It’s been nearly two weeks and I’m still heavy.
The air is thick and everything is moving in slow motion.
I’m stunned and shocked. My heart is broken.
I never imagined a world without Michael Jackson.
His music is the soundtrack to my life.
To say that I’m in pain is an understatement.

Michael’s been a part of my life, all of my life.
Like driving down south every summer and eating cream of wheat,
He's always been there. Always.
He’s in my DNA.
His music is solace for me.
It’s where I go when things fall apart.

1974: There’s me, 5, and my cousin with our hair brushes singing ‘Got to be there’ in the bathroom mirror.
1980: There's me, watching the 'Don't stop til you get enough' video swearing to my mother that Michael was going to be my husband.
1981: There’s me, 12 yrs. old, in Madison Square Garden watching Michael and his brothers give me the experience of a lifetime.
1982: There I am, home from the hospital, with a new copy of the 'Thriller' album. Happy beyond belief.
1983: There's me and my family, mouths agape, watching Motown 25.

There were scrapbooks. The leather Thriller jacket. The White Gloves. The buttons. The bubble gum wrappers. The newspaper clippings.
The endless copies of Black Beat, Right ON! Magazine and Nana’s Ebony's and Jet's.

1986: There’s me sharing my love for Michael with the whole world underneath my high school yearbook photo. LOVES MICHAEL JACKSON! it said. And I did.

1993: There's me remembering the time.

There’s the records sold, stadiums filled, world records broken.
There's the way he singlehandedly changed music and entertainment as we
know it.
But more importantly, it’s the way he made us, made me feel.

2001: There's me, hearing 'Butterflies' for the first time.
And thinking 'There's my Michael. He still has it.'
2005: There's me cheering his acquittal. Proclaiming his innocence.

He's the barometer that I use to measure excellence.
Whenever someone does or says something stellar, or magnificient,
I always say ‘Uh-oh, you better do it, Michael Jackson!'
No matter what changes he'd made, or what he was going through,
when he opened his mouth, that Michael Jackson came out.
That sweet, soothing, familiar, sound.

2009: I'm still here. But instead of witnessing his comeback,
I'm reeling from his loss.

Dear Michael:
I haven’t had time to process your passing. It all happened so suddenly.
But I want to thank you for all you’ve given me, given everyone.
I want you to know that I was always there.
From the afro to the flip.
From 'ABC' to 'Invincible'.
From the Grammy's to the courthouse.
I was there.
I learned those runs. I heard you ride the bassline.
I know the harmonies. I saw you.
You remind me of May from the 'Secret Life of Bees'.
You were too sweet for this world.
I want you to know that you were my first love.
And because of you, I dared to dream.
You ARE magic!
Pure. Kind. Gentle. Giving. Loving. Magical. Mystical. Ethereal. Wonderful. Beautiful. Amazing. Michael.
There will never be another.
I’m blessed to have lived to witness your brilliance.
You are more than a legend. More than a genius. You’re a movement.
Thank you for making a little girl from Newark, New Jersey, dream in color.
Thank you for everything, Michael Jackson.

Rest in Peace, Beloved. I love you.

Day 26 live @ Club Nokia!

My instincts are usually dead on.
But I have to admit that I didn’t pick the same band
members that Diddy chose for Day 26.
I was off by two.
Brian and Big Mike are extraordinarily talented,
but I saw 2 other brothers in their spots.
Fortunately, I’m not the one doing the picking.
Cause Day 26 is perfect just the way it is.
I see exactly why each and every one of those boys are in the group.

Que, the sensitive El Debarge type,
2009’s version of New Edition’s Ronnie Devoe.
Brian, a 'sanger' with Devante' swag.
Willie, 12 pack, pretty boy with bedroom eyes and a sweet falsetto.
Robert has voice for days.
He’s what Phillip Bailey was to Earth Wind And Fire.
Let’s pray he never leaves.
And Big Mike, the cuddly, charming wing man with beautiful eyes
and a voice like butter.
There’s something for everyone.
There’s a little BoyzIIMen, New Edition and 112, all rolled into one.
Diddy knows what he’s doing.

The boys performed at Club Nokia in Los Angeles on Mother’s Day.
And the show was exciting.
They came out like Janet’s Rhythm Nation.
Wearing black and red. Jumping in unison.
Hands up. Boom Kacking. Hot!
They’re hungry. They wanted to be there.
You could tell that they worked hard.
And if you’ve watched Making The Band, you were rooting for them
like they were your own.
The good news is that what you hear on the record is real.
They can all sing. Each one. Individually.

I would've liked if they had all stayed on stage together more often.
At various times throughout the show,
you’d only see 3 or 4 members on the stage.
Somebody would be off drinking water
or conversing with someone back stage.
The Jacksons never did that. Neither did the Commodores.
And if they did, I didn't notice.
But they’re young.
They have time.

If they continue selecting great music
and loving what they do and staying hungry-
And if Puffy promotes them and pays them
and puts into them what he put into Mary, Jodeci and B.I.G,
then they’ll be here. Still around. Giving us great music for
years to come.
R&B is back!

thoughtsandthings...3/16 Tweeting on Twitter

I'm an admitted Facebook junkie.
I usually spend more time on Facebook than anywhere else on the net.
But I noticed that more and more people were migrating over to Twitter.
Now, I'd been hearing about this Twitter thing.
I had even set up an account but I never hung out there very long.
I'd never really used it.
I resisted Twitter for a long time.
Until now!

Like anything else, Twitter has it's issues.
Or let me say, I have my issues WITH it.
On Twitter, I don't need you to accept my friend request.
I can just 'follow' you.
BUT unless we're both following one another,
I can't privately communicate with you.
Or even worse,
I have to post what I want to say to you in front of the whole damn world.
AND they can see you NOT replying back to me.

There should be Twitter etiquette.
If I follow you, you follow me.
If I say something to you, you say something back!

On Twitter, the only people talking to you are usually your friends.
If you're following a celebrity, chances are, that unless they
know you personally, they are only communicating with each other.
You don't know the countless conversations I've been in with Erykah Badu
and was the only one talking to me.
I often sign off feeling like...an idiot.
"Hey Puffy, I'm TALKING to you over here".

The one good thing about Twitter is that it's in real time.
When someone says something you know that they said it right then.
I struggle with quick and witty updates.
Truth is, I just don't have that much going on.
So, I lurk more than anything.
I find what others are doing far more interesting.
Who knew how entertaining Beyonce's lil sister could be?

Twitter is like a quickie.
Instant messaging, real time. No details.
No where to hang out.
No tagging. No poking.
And I can only talk to you if you're 'Following'. Me. Too.

Facebook is more intimate.
You have to ask to be accepted as someone's friend.
One could see this as an inconvenience but I like it.
For when you accept me,
I know that you want me there for one reason or the other.
Facebook is more involved. More detailed.
I can visit your page.
I can view your pictures.
We can tag and poke one another.
I'm reminded of your birthday and can
post 'happy birthday' on your wall.
I can send you a private message and no one else will know.

I'm really a Facebook kinda girl.
I like it more intimate. more involved.
I've never been the tweeting twittering quickie type.
But I can't leave.
So follow me....