Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Merry Christmas Lil Mama

The past couple of years on Christmas morning, my sis and I have fixed breakfast. Last year, we were cutting up to "Look At My Dab" with my grandmother making a guest appearance.

A video posted by Vita Corleone (@kd.4) on


After hearing Chance The Rapper and Jeremih's new mixtape, I told Kiara "Merry Christmas Lil Mama" will be our cut up song for Christmas 2016. The song is Chicago as hell...and so are we. It was only right.

So, we record a video lasting almost the entire length of the song. I break it down in 3 parts and post on IG. My mom ends up being in the third video because she came in the kitchen fussing about water running in the sink. That is why Kiara proceeds to juke on her.

Stop your fussing woman, it's Christmas!

When I post the videos, I tagged Mr. Bennett in two of them, thanking him for the song. Friends view, like, comment...cool. I leave my phone alone for a couple of hours so it can charge.

I get back on IG, and I see a gang of random people have liked my videos, and some of them have started following me. I'm thinking "Oh, they must have clicked on the hashtag and found my video. But why are they following me?" I keep scrolling then I see the comment "omg he reposted."

A video posted by Chance The Rapper (@chancetherapper) on



Like my P-town folk say...I was gaggin!

Not only were randoms liking the vids I posted that morning. Some were going back and liking old posts. Was I supposed to give them a shoutout "for the IG love?" (Do people still do that!?) It was crazy! I turned off comments on the videos, because one idiot made his way to my page just to talk about my Christmas pajamas.

Uh...OK.

I've removed SOOOOOO many people as followers. I'm not a creative that is promoting anything, so I didn't need an increase in followers. They were gonna unfollow me, anyway, after seeing that I'm boring. I just helped them out. O_O

After two days of mayhem in my notifications, my IG is somewhat back to normal. Haleloo!

A Merry Christmas, indeed, Lil Mama!

K to the...

P.S. Hundreds of thousands of people have watch me act a fool...while I wasn't wearing a bra. Geez Louise!

P.P.S. It was hot as hell in the kitchen. I was dripping in sweat after that video.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Pardon my French...

This post contains hella caps, randomocity and might cause some to clutch some pearls.

You've been warned.

Ready?

OK.

NEWS FLASH FUTHAMUCKAS!!!!

WOMEN LOVE SEX!

WOMEN DON'T ALWAYS CHEAT FOR SOME EMOTIONAL CONNECTION!!!

WOMEN CAN HAVE FWBs WITHOUT WANTING AN EMOTIONAL CONNECTION!!!

Back in my "savage" days (LOL), I had gotten some outside dick (and mouth) with no remorse while in a relationship. No emotional connection. I just wanted a release!

Also, during a 2nd "savage" period (I am cracking up as I type this post), I had a FWB (who was 11 years my senior) for a good 6 months. Six months of some of the best sex I've ever had on a weekly basis; sometimes twice a week. I had no desire to be in a relationship with this guy.

Why?

Because he already had two kids, one close to being a teen. Meaning, he was probably done having kids.

Why do I say probably?

BECAUSE THE ONLY CONVERSATIONS WE HAD WERE ABOUT THE TIME I WOULD COME OVER TO GET THE DICK OR WHATEVER WAS ON TV BEFORE THE CLOTHES CAME OFF! I didn't care to know about his future plans, really.

Why?

Because, we were just two grown ass people wanting to have some amazing, consensual, safe sex.

Yes, most of us women are wired to emotionally connect with folk easier than men. See what I said there? "Most of us" That means not all women. My guys have told me about some cold-hearted women they've come across. It's real outcheah, bruh.

I just want folk to stop treating us women like we are simply weak and emotional. Our vaginas are just as powerful and full of savagery as y'all penises!!! Have you heard the song "Pussy" by Jay-Z and Urinator of the Pre-pubescent R. Kelly?!? It's real.

K to the...

Friday, December 16, 2016

Body-ody-ody

Last week, I went a pop-up shop for 828 collection. I'm browsing and I come across this dress. I saw the back of the dress and immediately wanted to try it on.

Let’s pause for a sec about this dress.

I think all 5 of you reading this know how my body is shaped. Just in case someone stumbles across this post and has never seen me before – Hi. My name is Kenya. I have a pear-shaped body. Small up top, heavy bottom. Treasurer of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, but Sergeant-At-Arms for This Wagon I’m Draggin Club. There is no 36-24-36…it’s 32-28-40. Mmkay, Pumpkin?

Back to this dress.

I usually stay away from dresses that really show my thim slick curves. And I knew this dress would show all the curves the moment I saw it. I was a little hesitant, but I went ahead and tried it on. Ya know...stepping out of my comfort zone.

I put it on, looked in the mirror and said “Damn!” My newfound enabler buddy Bebe Jones said “I didn’t know you had all that body!” SHEEEIT! I didn’t either! I had the dress on for about 15 minutes, waiting for Suzette to get a chance to pin and tuck where it was needed (up top, of course). The longer I wore it, the more comfortable I felt in it. And I got it for the low! After the alterations are made, it will be in my possession.

I don’t know when I’m going to wear it, but when I do, my theme song will be Trina’s “Pull Over”. I’ve treated my body well the past 5 years and it shows. Nothing wrong with wanting to show it off every now and then. ;-)

K to the…

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Smile.

I have always looked younger than my actual age. Without knowing anything about me, people always assume I am 10 years or more younger than my actual age.

"Girl, Black don't crack."

What I have noticed over the past year are my smile lines. My smile lines have been dry snitching on me in a couple of pics.

"Yeah, you look young girl. But these smile lines are putting you closer to 40 than 20."

Does this mean I will be dialing back my smile? Nah! Those smile lines show my happiness. Those smile lines show I am alive. Those smile lines mean I am fortunate enough to get older.

So as I celebrate 34 today in the City of Brotherly Love, I will be all smiles.

Happy Birthday to me.

K to the...

Monday, October 10, 2016

The Only Thing Constant...

Right now, as I type this, I am soooooooo content with the person that I am. You might be reading this and thinking "You shouldn't be content. Strive to be better." And to you, I say "I'm a yogi. Chill." As someone who practices yoga, I like to enjoy the present. If I am constantly looking to the future, I could miss out on the good that is going on now. I strive to be better, no doubt. But right now, I am loving who I am. I am loving Kenya.

"If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans."

-Max Ehrmann "Desiderata"

Friday evening, I had an appointment with CarMax to get my car appraised. I was curious to see how much my '08 G6 was worth. I had no idea I'd be leaving CarMax with a '14 jawn in a color that has become my power color since turning 30 - RED! Since my very first car, a '96 Maxima, I've always had JUKBX on my license plates. With this car, that will not be the case. It's crazy, to me, that I even typed that. Jukebox was a college nickname due to me always dancing and playing music. Don't get me wrong...I still do that! I just want something else.

This year has definitely been a year of change. It was time for me to move back into the city. It was time for me to speak up (more) for myself. It was time for me to be more confident in my field of work due to my experience. It was time for me to let some people go. It was time for me to live it up at Caribana this year. It was time for me to be comfortable with my body and rock that crop top and short shorts with no fear. It was time for me to get a new(er) car. It was just time.

Y'all know all these changes have given me an idea for my next tattoo, right? And I want it in an area that could be visible all year round, depending on the type of shirt I am wearing. Yes, that shall be the move in 2017, the year I turn 35.

THIRTY-FIVE!!!

HOLY SCHITT!!!!

K to the...

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

That time I got "friend-zoned"...

...by my goddaughter, G-Baby #1, London Danielle. 

Here's a quick story about being persistent and consistent.

In January 2015, my bff and her family came back to The States for good. London was 5 months at the time. Between wanting to hang my bff, and wanting my g-baby to know me, I started visiting them on a weekly basis. 

The first day I saw them after their return, we took a trip to Babies R Us. London and I had a stare-down in the store. Right then I knew, it would take a while for her to get used to me. I never forced her to try to like me. I would go for a hi-5 and she would just stare. I'd say "OK" and keep it moving. LOL Babies can be selective with who they can stand to be around, just like adults. Kids are people too. So, I respected her space. 

However, slowly but surely, the stare-down period at the beginning of each visit began to get shorter and shorter until it no longer existed. She started warming up to me. She finally gave me a hi-5. Then we started doing our little handshake, with a couple of twists SHE added to the end of it. Then she started hugging me when I would come thru the door if I asked for one. Then the "Danielle selfies" on my phone started to add up.

"Cheesy face!"
"Silly face!"
"Serious face!"

Then she hugged me as I was about to leave one day, wouldn't let me go, so I stayed for a few more HOURS. Then she started drinking out of MY water bottle. Then I had make sure to wear comfortable clothes when I'd go visit because I knew she'd have me on the floor playing with her toys (The blocks and turntable are my fave. What? Don't judge.). Then she learned how to say my name ("Keya!"). Then we took a trip to Party City, to get bubbles and listen to Beyonce's "Freedom." Our first solo outing.

And now she has her mom to call me while I'm at work. And she lets me know when she "go pee pee in the potty."

Yesterday, I told her mom that I was content with her never liking me. I thought she'd never warm up to me. 

Look at us now! I climbed out the "friend-zone" and became family.

Her little brother, though? At 4 months, he has already warmed up to me. Only a matter of time before London and I teach him how to "bust shots" like we're on stage with Rihanna while she performs "Work."

If London knows how to do it (which, according to her mom, is my fault *clutches pearls*), Landon must know, as well.

BLOP!!! BLOP!!! BLOP!!!

K to the...

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Bifcake Chronicles: Hustlin backwards

After almost 3 months of being superficial and 1 date, I decided to delete my tinder account.



And we are in what is known as "cuffing season."

Ya girl is outcheah hustling backwards like a maug. 

I've learned from Tinder that to be "successful" with online dating, you have to really commit to it. Commit to finding possible matches. Commit to checking to see if you've matched with anyone. Then, commit to maintaining communication with your matches to see if they are worth your time.

After a week of that type of commitment, I'm over it. Then, the app sits dormant for about 3 weeks before I go "Oh...I'm not doing anything right now. Let me swipe."

Nah.

I've also learned there are way more "self-employed," "world-traveling" men out there in their 30s and 40s that have been schooled in "the streetz" than I may have originally thought. o_O

Thanks for the side-eye practice and giggles, Tinder.

K to the...

Thursday, July 14, 2016

How 'Bout We Don't

To say that I have been enjoying the beautiful weather we’ve had since Memorial Day would be an understatement. I’m hashtag outcheah, having as much fun as possible. Because I’m hashtag outcheah more than usual, I’ve seen a lot of familiar faces. At a concert in May, and a party this past Saturday, I saw familiar faces I hadn’t seen in years.

Who?

Female friends of an ex. And both instances occurred at the restroom.

The first time, I was washing my hands, and someone next to me goes “You’re [redacted’s] ex-girlfriend.” My homie was with me and she was ready to stroll up like Bey and her whoadies as I slowly turned my head to see who was speaking to me.

The second time, I was waiting in line at the restroom, “seal broken,” and someone goes “I know you from somewhere. Don’t do me like this. I’m drunk. But I know you.” I’m slightly tickled, slowly turned her towards me so I could see her face (She was outta there!) and was like “What is your name?” She says it, and I go “You’re [redacted’s] best friend.” I give the church hug and continue to wait. There is banter with a drunk guy going into the men’s room THAT NEVER HAS A LINE, then she goes “So, how’s life?"
See, this what we don't have to do. First of all, it's unnecessary. And B of all, she doesn't really care. I know she was rooting for her friend to get with someone else before her friend and I were over. I kept it short with “Life is good,” and continued to wait for the next available toilet.
This is the only ex I have whose female friends have come at me awkward. I don't get it. I don’t recall ever going up to exes of my male friends and saying anything to them! Not even when the liquor's in the system. It’s tacky, and unnecessary. The most I’ve probably done is tell a friend that I saw their ex. Other than that, I keep it moving.
I really have to stay away from public restrooms.
K to the...
 

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Bifcake Chronicles: Tinderoni

After obtaining proof from my ship that it’s not just a hook-up site, I joined Tinder last month. My profile has about 5 pics, and a very simple description:

“If you don’t acknowledge Pluto as a planet or looking for a FWB, keep it movin.”

Trill.

What’s cool about about Tinder is I am looking at profiles of men of all ethnicities who are within the age range of interest, and the radius I’ve chosen. I have come across some interesting profiles:

  • Man looking for a sugar babyWe actually “matched” but I didn’t want to give up my cookies too. I have standards. *giggles*
  • Married couples looking for a woman to spice things upNah
  • Married men who are looking to just hook upAt least they’re honest
  • Men in their 30s & 40s with no kids, never been married, and currently singleI call these men “Unicorns.” 
  • Guys I know from high school or from hoopingI wanna match with them just so I can send a message saying “What the hell are you doing on here?” I just keep swiping.

There have been two Unicorns that I have been texting on the regular. One I went on a brunch date with this past weekend. He is much cuter in his pics. However, he had me cracking up at brunch. My face was hurting by the time we were leaving. We shall see how that goes.

The other unicorn seemed cool, based on text messages and his profile…until a phone conversation we had yesterday. I have a thing about outsiders coming in my city, residing here, then dissing it as if the entire city of Chicago, including all its citizens, ain’t shit. And that is basically what he was doing during the convo. He apologized after I told him he talks as if Chicago is beneath him. We're supposed to meet up on Friday after work for drinks. Ugh. That miiiiight be postponed.

AND...his "jokes" were lame. As someone who loves a good corny joke, for me to consider your jokes lame means you’re just…shut up!

Dating can be exhausting, yet fun at the same time. I joined Tinder to meet guys outside of my social circle. Kudos to me for keeping it going.

K to the...

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Basketball Chronicles: It's Still There

Back in February, I had drafted a blogpost about how I felt my love for basketball was dwindling. Basketball used to be my refuge from everything. When I was on the court, nothing else mattered. If I couldn't sleep, I would go put up some shots (Oh how I've missed going to a gym opened 24 hours).

It came to point where I was playing solely for cardio; like it was an assignment or something. I was playing with grown ass males who acted like children. I wrote about some of the ish I went through on this blog, but there was a lot of ish I didn't write about. You'd think after 4 years of playing with the same males every week, I wouldn't have to deal with them coming at me sideways every week solely because I am a woman.

So, I started running more. And it seemed running was going to replace basketball as my refuge...until I joined a another gym after moving back to the city. It wasn't that I didn't like playing basketball anymore...I just needed a change of scenery.

I am running the Divine Nine 5K in June, then I will begin training in August for the Hot Chocolate 15K. 

15K. 

9.3 miles.

WHAT AM I DOING!?!?!

After I conquer the 15K, there will be no reason for me to continue running. I have no aspirations to do a half or full marathon. Distance running is cool, but I have come to the conclusion that I really don't like it. I love basketball way more than running.

I am slowly but surely getting back to my refuge. I haven't stepped on the court in 3 weeks. That's 3 weeks too long.

That's how I know the love is still there.

K to the...

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Bifcake Chronicles: Just...no

Seeing a "filtered message" in your Facebook inbox saying "I love you" from an ex who is currently married is not flattering. And it's disrespectful to his wife. I wish I had seen the message when it was sent 4 months ago so I could have hit him with the "Nigga please, if you don't get the fuh..."

*I really miss when only people with whom I'm Facebook friends could send me messages.*

I don't read daily horoscopes. However, I'm a firm believer in our astrological signs saying a lot about who we are as individuals, and with whom we are romantically compatible. The disrespectful nincompoop was born under one of the signs with whom I am NOT compatible.

Pisces.

So, to the men that were born under Pisces and Virgo (another incompatible sign), this Sagittarian has only one thing to say to you:



K to the...

P.S. My last three relationships were with guys under Pisces or Virgo. No mas! No mas!

Friday, April 8, 2016

Yogi Chronicles: No Gain In Pain

Some background for you on yoga.

Yoga is a philosophy of attaining mental, physical and spiritual happiness through different mental and physical techniques that are practiced on the regular. Yoga has what is called 8 Limbs of Yoga which act as guidelines on living a meaningful and purposeful life. The limbs are:

1. Yama – Abstentions
2. Niyama – Observances
3. Asana – Postures/Poses (What folk are familiar with)
4. Pranayama – Breath Control
5. Pratyahara – Sense-withdrawal
6. Dharana – Concentration
7. Dhyana – Meditation
8. Samadhi – Contemplation

Ahimsa, one of the five yamas, means practicing non-violence; causing no harm. There are three types of ahimsa: intellectual, verbal and physical. While teaching class, or in the captions of my pics on Instagram, I always mention to do what makes you comfortable and listen to your body. There is no gain in pain, in yoga.

During my 8K training, there were times when I'd want to push my body to go a little further without stopping to walk. At the same time, I didn't want to hurt myself during training, and risk not being to run the day of the race. So, I had to listen to my body, and accept what I could do in the moment. Came race day, my body felt great. My goal was simple: Finish! I finished, broke personal records, and had fun along the way. I think that was my body's way of thanking me for listening. :-)

Namaste.

K to the...

Monday, January 4, 2016

Daddy's girl

I know who my father is. My middle name is the female version of his first name, followed by his unusual last name. I inherited my love for basketball from him. The rows of wrinkles that form on my forehead when raising my brows is from him. No doubt, I am his child.

A daddy's girl?

My father isn't a prominent figure in my life. He isn't someone I will call when I'm in need. He's been very prominent in my sister's and niece's life, though. And I've accepted this. A couple of years ago, I had a discussion with him in regards to my relationship with my sister. I told him that there is no way my relationship with my sister, who is 13 years younger than me, should be better than my relationship with my sister who is 5 years younger than me. He placed blame on this strained relationship on her mother.

But, you're OUR father!

Then, hearing your father admit to letting that same woman keep him way from you, his first-born...

Makes me feel like I wasn't worth the fight.

So like I said, I've accepted our relationship for what it is. Am I shocked about this past weekend, when he didn't call me like he said he would to confirm a breakfast date he wanted to have?

No.

My relationship with my father is one of the reasons why I don't have kids, right now. I want my kids to have a better relationship with their father than I do with mine. I want to procreate with someone who is willing to fight for our babies harder than my father fought for me. If that means I'm not "fortunate enough"* to have someone come into my life, with whom I'd like to make that move, until I'm pushing 40...oh well!

Anything to keep my offspring from writing this same blogpost in 20+ years.

K to the...

*In quotations since society can make one feel as if having no kids means your life has no meaning at all.

Friday, January 1, 2016

"...maybe we can start again."

My time in Hammond, IN is coming to an end. I can’t believe I have been laying my head in Indiana for what will be 5 years when the lease ends. Though I’ve worked in the city the entire time, I still felt so far away from my family and friends. It wasn’t until my best friend, her husband and baby/my g-baby moved back to the states earlier this year that I had someone who stayed near me. For once, I could go visit someone on the regular and it wouldn’t take me 30 minutes to get to and from their house.

What prompted this change was spending a week at my grandmother’s while my car was being serviced. I got spoiled by the convenience of public transportation, a shorter commute to work, and being 20 minutes or less from everything. It was after that week, I knew I had to “come home.”

The time I've lived in Hammond was what I needed. I needed to step out of my comfort zone (it took months for me to get used to the quiet). I needed to go through the pain I experienced after moving to Indy to learn from it. I needed that time by myself to work on myself. Please believe, people don’t look at driving to Hammond like they look at driving to Orland from the city (though Orland is further). So I had plenty of time to myself. As an introvert, being alone wasn’t an issue. I did learn that people will go where they want to go. Once I accepted that, hearing “you live too far” stung less.

With the move, I have to recondition myself to city life. Some things I could get away with in Indy just won’t fly in Chicago. The block I’ll be staying on (shoutout to family owning property) is pretty quiet. However, no more leaving my radio faceplate on while in the crib. Look, I love my city. But I’m not naïve. I have to find another gym to join, meaning I will have even more “Basketball Chronicles” as I’ll have to gain respect from a new group of regular hoopers. I’m also looking to teach yoga in the city, in addition to continuing to teach in Highland.

A lot of changes on the horizon, but I’m not worried. Like my homie Alvin always say, “I’m alright, because God’s got me.”



Happy New Year!

K to the…