<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215</id><updated>2012-01-28T03:02:21.728-05:00</updated><category term='looking'/><category term='man hips'/><category term='making fiends'/><category term='news'/><category term='movies'/><category term='Oprah'/><category term='attraction'/><category term='death'/><category term='wanna be'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='community'/><category term='cartoons'/><category term='chris rock'/><category term='racisim'/><category term='long term'/><category term='forgiveness'/><category term='12 days of christmas'/><category term='relax'/><category term='expectations'/><category 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term='chip n dale'/><category term='problems'/><category term='anniversary'/><category term='power'/><category term='notorious b.i.g.'/><category term='rally'/><category term='gang starr'/><category term='charlie brown'/><category term='settling'/><category term='defense'/><category term='race'/><category term='chicken'/><category term='qualifications'/><category term='letting go'/><category term='love'/><category term='self-help'/><category term='texting'/><category term='stupid'/><category term='pencil'/><category term='Hill Harper'/><category term='schick quattro trimstyle'/><category term='education'/><category term='snow miser'/><category term='jena 6'/><category term='technology'/><category term='resolutions'/><category term='starting over'/><category term='shy'/><category term='stop motion'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='NY OIL'/><category term='break-ups'/><category term='bullshit'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='honesty'/><category term='old spice'/><category term='police'/><category term='mental playlist'/><category term='random. thought'/><category term='thank you'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='lazy'/><category term='protest'/><category term='ring tone'/><category term='girl effect'/><category term='the boondocks'/><category term='other woman'/><category term='animation'/><category term='self doubt'/><category term='computer'/><category term='fred astaire'/><category term='signs'/><category term='new york'/><category term='white T'/><category term='special teams'/><category term='videodeo'/><category term='shoes'/><category term='acting right'/><category term='gas prices'/><category term='haters'/><category term='gossip'/><category term='heat miser'/><category term='pbs'/><category term='ghostwriter'/><category term='air'/><category term='rage'/><category term='etiquette'/><category term='cell phone'/><category term='intent'/><category term='bills'/><category term='say word'/><category term='music'/><category term='game play'/><category term='ego'/><category term='imagination'/><category term='old school'/><category term='fight'/><category term='entering a room'/><category term='question'/><category term='moist'/><category term='daddy'/><category term='what chili wants'/><category term='insomnia'/><category term='desperate'/><category term='KFC'/><category term='lying'/><category term='words'/><category term='ernie'/><category term='behavior'/><category term='bid em in'/><category term='new years'/><category term='men'/><category term='pretty wings'/><category term='Michael Jackson'/><category term='fear'/><category term='baggage'/><category term='family guy'/><category term='real world'/><category term='kitty kitteh'/><category term='natural'/><category term='not a good look'/><category term='mc lyte'/><category term='kinetic type'/><category term='Act Like A Lady Think Like A Man'/><category term='hater'/><category term='comedy'/><category term='sweat pants'/><category term='pleated pants'/><category term='exes'/><category term='ultimatum'/><category term='thanksgiving'/><category term='selfish'/><category term='art'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='ramblings'/><category term='cosby show'/><category term='hypocrite'/><category term='hair'/><category term='phone'/><category term='valentine&apos;s day'/><category term='presentation'/><category term='iphone'/><category term='travel'/><category term='fern gully'/><category term='society'/><category term='good look'/><category term='quote of the week'/><category term='bernie mac'/><category term='family'/><category term='darkwing duck'/><category term='traits'/><category term='tv'/><category term='brooklyn'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='offense'/><category term='muppets'/><category term='thunder cats'/><category term='trailers'/><category term='amy winehouse'/><category term='penguins of madagascar'/><category term='rudeness'/><category term='silence'/><category term='commercials'/><category term='racism'/><category term='maxwell'/><category term='reflections'/><category term='advice'/><category term='sesame street'/><category term='gnarles barkley'/><category term='retrospective'/><category term='going out'/><category term='cosby'/><category term='ugg boots'/><category term='nappy'/><category term='food for thought'/><category term='robots'/><category term='jay-z'/><category term='school'/><category term='For Colored Girls'/><category term='rappin judge'/><category term='civil rights'/><category term='Steve Harvey'/><category term='mort'/><category term='martin luther king'/><category term='scrubs'/><category term='invader zim'/><category term='heavy d'/><category term='photo'/><category term='people'/><category term='square one'/><category term='monsters'/><category term='bug-a-boo'/><category term='sneakers'/><category term='quality'/><category term='really rosie'/><category term='requirements'/><category term='rap'/><category term='bathroom'/><category term='santa'/><category term='R.I.P'/><category term='japanese piggy bank'/><category term='Chris Brown'/><category term='perceptions'/><category term='stereotypes'/><category term='trust'/><category term='lynched'/><category term='positive'/><category term='double standards'/><category term='hip-hop'/><category term='rebound'/><category term='apple'/><category term='change'/><category term='dateless'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='jump-off'/><category term='calling'/><category term='ask me anything'/><category term='random thought'/><category term='evolution'/><category term='pointer sisters'/><category term='Letters to a Young Sister'/><category term='sex'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='cheating'/><category term='couples'/><category term='issues'/><category term='clothes'/><category term='reebok'/><category term='quiet time'/><category term='age'/><category term='beauty'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='public service announcement'/><category term='football'/><category term='katt williams'/><category term='driving'/><category term='assumptions'/><category term='spitting'/><category term='man dibbs'/><category term='road'/><category term='savvysocialite.com'/><category term='friends'/><category term='moment of simple'/><category term='women'/><category term='lena horne'/><category term='approachable'/><category term='mommy'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='politics'/><category term='culture'/><category term='random'/><category term='guru'/><category term='club'/><category term='party'/><category term='drunk'/><category term='lateness'/><category term='games'/><category term='brown sugar'/><category term='giggles'/><category term='single'/><category term='black women'/><category term='communication'/><category term='boondocks'/><category term='know your role'/><category term='life'/><category term='parents'/><category term='miserable'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='blue tooth'/><category term='Michael Bell'/><category term='santa claus'/><category term='play'/><category term='entertainment'/><category term='flirting'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='ruffneck'/><category term='japan'/><category term='mentors'/><category term='model'/><category term='critique'/><category term='kool-aid'/><category term='players'/><category term='head scarfs'/><category term='Tyler Perry'/><category term='black people'/><category term='clean'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Confessions of a Disillusioned Black Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>An honest dialogue about love, life and everything in-between.  A girls thoughts on dating, relationships, love, men, women, and general cultural observations.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>499</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1785784950598782449</id><published>2012-01-11T12:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T12:08:01.684-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clean'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/photo/1527819_700b_v1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 412px; height: 451px;" src="http://d24w6bsrhbeh9d.cloudfront.net/photo/1527819_700b_v1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1785784950598782449?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1785784950598782449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1785784950598782449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1785784950598782449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1785784950598782449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2012/01/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4995918864859716710</id><published>2012-01-09T12:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T12:30:03.728-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mort'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='penguins of madagascar'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bNMrT_-5-iU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4995918864859716710?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4995918864859716710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4995918864859716710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4995918864859716710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4995918864859716710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2012/01/moment-of-simple_09.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/bNMrT_-5-iU/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4430665208007828580</id><published>2012-01-03T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T12:00:07.916-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Free Milk</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Why buy the cow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've been thinking a lot lately about this whole idea of 'why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free' saying.  Some people manage to make it out with a 'purchase' or a ring so to speak.  Others are appearing to be infinitely stuck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To quickly summarize the saying (for those who may not be familiar), the idea is what incentive would a man have to make a woman his wife when he's already getting wifely things.  It's often said in an attempt to encourage women to keep their legs closed, discourage living together before marriage, etc.  But, we all know that doesn't work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While the idea of living together before marriage is a tricky topic to traverse and I have no solid position on that topic as it applies to others, I will say that I do think there are some things that should be reserved for that married relationship. Exactly what those things are I'll leave up to the individual to decide. But,  otherwise, outside of a wedding and legally binding documents, what do you have that is different? new? unique to the experience of being married?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also believe that relationships can get very comfortable. And, depending on your mate, if you are doing what a wife would, why would he want to spend the money, go through the legal hassle to get what he's already getting right now, with little to no work? I just really feel that playing that wife role with out the wife title is just insane. Be a good girlfriend, leave the wifely stuff for when you actually are a wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my fellas, please understand that there are many women out there that will willingly enter into these wifey/husband like situations (wether living together or not) with the hopes that they are laying a foundation for a real marriage very soon. They agree to this as a way to hopefully show you how good of a wife they can be.  Ease any apprehensions you may have towards marriage. If you truly have no intentions on marrying that woman, and you care about her at all, don't let her waste her time, her life away. Tell her so she can decide if she's going to stick around to try and change your mind or get out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my ladies, if you know for a fact that this man has no intentions of marrying you, when you really reflect and be honest, without making exceptions or excuses, let him go. The longer you waste your time trying to change or convince him otherwise, you're missing out on an opportunity to meet someone who is out there willing to give you everything and more you want and need. And while it may seem like it's impossible to find, there are men out there like that. You just have to be ready to receive them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4430665208007828580?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4430665208007828580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4430665208007828580&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4430665208007828580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4430665208007828580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2012/01/free-milk.html' title='Free Milk'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1283525464797743286</id><published>2012-01-02T11:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T11:51:00.034-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fern gully'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wtuKoD1Wbvg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1283525464797743286?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1283525464797743286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1283525464797743286&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1283525464797743286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1283525464797743286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2012/01/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/wtuKoD1Wbvg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5180042191445880525</id><published>2011-12-31T08:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T08:33:48.194-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resolutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retrospective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new years'/><title type='text'>New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #993399;"&gt;Let's make it a great night....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 410px;" src="http://www.anselmovineyards.com/wp-content/uploads/2011-new-years-eve-party-redding-california.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I usually write this closer to the end of the day, and while I don't have any big NYE plans, I don't intend to spend it on this computer. So, here we are.  Another year has passed.  Time to reflect on the past year and time to prepare for the next. While 2011 wasn't terrible for me, I'm still glad to see it go.  Wasn't necessarily the best year. However I am grateful that I was able to see it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, time to make some promises.  Good ol, resolutions.  &lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2010/12/auld-lang-syne.html"&gt;Last year&lt;/a&gt; I decided not to make any if I remember correctly.  And I held true to that.  I figured I'd just go ahead and do whatever I wanted and if I didn't do something, then no big deal.  Well, what ended up happening is I pretty much did nothing really.  Or at least I felt like I did nothing. I have nothing really significant to say I accomplished last year.  (Though I did visit LA and that was one of my things to do). But all in all, 2011 was pretty stagnant for me.  So maybe that no resolution thing wasn't the best idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this year I will probably make some resolutions.  Exactly what they'll be are to be determined.  Not quite sure honestly.  So how about this: In 2012 I resolve to do something! I think that'll work.  And, I plan to honor as many &lt;strike&gt;superstitions&lt;/strike&gt; traditions as I possibly can.  So that means New Years Day I will not be paying any bills, nothing will leave this house before something comes in (including trash), I need a tall, dark and handsome man to be the first one through the threshold, and he should be bearing a gift and I think he's supposed to kiss the person who lives there.....something to that effect....not sure, it's never happened so...yea.... (The likelyhood of that last one happening is slim to none but the Young One is in town so perhaps...).  I'll make as much noise as one person can possibly make at the strike of 12 to scare the devil out and open the doors to let the old year go and allow the new year to come in. And I'll finish it off with the traditional southern New Years Day dinner for luck, wealth and prosperity. (Or is it health? *shrugs*).  Either way I'm going to bring myself and this house as much luck as possible!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And you know they say whatever you spend New Year's Eve doing is how you'll spend the rest of the year.  So all you people with drama, you better let it chill for one day.  Enjoy yourself or you'll be dealing with drama all year.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I plan to bring in the new year doing what I hope to spend the next year doing.  That includes writing (check), spending time with family (sister's here so check), enjoying friends (some should be over later unless plans change so check), and doing things I like to do (shopping, making jewelry, being creative...which will be a check by the time this post is published).  So I think I'm off to a good start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So while I may not have solid plans for next year I have some plans for today.  Time for me to get up and get it moving.  To everyone who made it to today, I'm happy that you're here.  Let's be thankful we had a chance to know the ones who were not able to make it with us. I wish all of you all the success and happiness the next year can bring.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if the 2012 predictions end up coming true, it's been one great ride! Peace and blessings to you all. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5180042191445880525?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5180042191445880525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5180042191445880525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5180042191445880525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5180042191445880525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/12/new-years-eve.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-393431379675099083</id><published>2011-12-30T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T12:00:01.216-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QQlntYkQ3Vs/Tv3L4wEm-hI/AAAAAAAAAx0/5bQWb0yDT9k/s1600/acting_right.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QQlntYkQ3Vs/Tv3L4wEm-hI/AAAAAAAAAx0/5bQWb0yDT9k/s400/acting_right.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691929679903521298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After reviewing the previous rules, I felt it is necessary to outline the rules for house parties and other various group functions that occur at a persons place of residence.  While many of the rules from &lt;span style="color: ##66CC00;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/acting-right.html"&gt;Section A&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; do apply, there are several others that need to be addressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#1.  Never show up empty handed unless instructed to do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  You should always offer to bring something to the party.  This goes for frequent visitors and especially for new visitors.  For new visitors this is a sort of 'thank you', if you will, to the host for ... I hate to say allow but, allowing you to come into their home. For frequent guests, this is obviously someone you know well, so it's just the nice thing to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#2.  If you are a guest to the party and do not know the host, do not invite extra people. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;It doesn't matter if the host has said it's OK or hasn't.  AND this goes double if you haven't even told the host you have extra people coming. You are already an extra person. You don't know this host well enough to invite people to their house. Who says the host wants all these strange people to know where they live? And while the host may be open to it,  I wouldn't even ask.  Let's just say don't do it and leave it at that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#3.  If you are a frequent visitor to these parties, you should at the very least offer to help clean up after functions are done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Many times the host will say that's not necessary.  Some will insist that you go home or sit down, but the offer is still a good gesture. And really if everyone cleaned up after just themselves, much of the work is done. Sometimes, simply picking up stray cups, plates, napkins or arranging dishes in a common place is good enough to help take some of the stress off the host after the party is done. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#4.  The liquor stays at the hosts house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  YOU....DO....NOT....take the bottle you brought over to the house back when you leave. It doesn't matter if it's completely full, never opened, or only has a little bit left.  You shouldn't ask to take the bottle back. The only time you leave with the liquor you brought is if the host puts it back into your hands. This is another way of saying 'thank you' to the host for opening up their home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#5.  If you are a visitor to the house party and no one but the person you came with knows you, don't be a wallflower.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  After you take a moment to assess the situation, mingle with the other guests.  Make new friends.  Play a game of Spades. At the very least talk to the host.  Don't sit on a couch on your phone the entire evening. And most certainly don't be a creeper and just stare at everyone all night from the corner. House parties are probably the lowest pressure situations. Many attendees are already drunk by the time you get there. You don't have to worry about money for food or drinks. It's not about trying to holler at the most people or get a bunch of numbers by the end of the night.  It's just fun. Just get in there, meet some new people and have a good time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#6. Don't eat, drink and run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  Don't come to someone's house and eat up all their food, drink all their liquor and then poof like a fart in the wind. It's just rude.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#7.  If you break something, offer to replace it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;This is someone's house.  This is someone's stuff. Don't just hide it either. How would you feel if something in your house just showed up broken the next day? In this instance, even if the host says don't worry about it, I'd still replace it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#8. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;This should go without saying but, I'll say it.  &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Don't bad mouth the party or the party goers during, before or after on any kind of social media, or verbally to anyone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; That's in such bad taste.  Here these people are, many who probably don't know you, offering you a good time and a place to hang out for the evening. Giving of their food, their liquor, their home, and many times themselves. It is incredibly rude to be disrespectful, to their face or behind their back. If you didn't have a good time, then just don't return or leave early.  There's absolutely no reason to talk shit. None. What. So. Ever.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With the New Year just a day away, many of you will be either out at parties or visiting other people's home.  I thought I would just give out some guidelines and some things to consider as you being to usher in a new time. If you haven't always been the best, it's the perfect time to start anew. As always: Respect yourselves. Respect each other. Put good in and you'll get good out. ♥ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-393431379675099083?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/393431379675099083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=393431379675099083&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/393431379675099083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/393431379675099083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/12/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QQlntYkQ3Vs/Tv3L4wEm-hI/AAAAAAAAAx0/5bQWb0yDT9k/s72-c/acting_right.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-338272564505494489</id><published>2011-12-29T12:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T12:27:00.173-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rudeness'/><title type='text'>They Just Can't Handle Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Maybe you're just a bitch...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all know or have seen this girl.  The one who is always talking smack about a guy she just went out with.  The chic who is always talking down to men.  The one who puts her dates through homeland security style interrogations. Constantly asking questions, challenging men in conversations like she's in a boxing match, but never letting the man finish his answer.  Often dismissive, rude, and disrespectful.  Asking questions she already knows the answers to, to see if the guy will lie or tell the truth in a effort to trap him in his suspected lie. You know, just about every brown-skinned Black woman they cast on any reality television show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When these women are called on their ish, their first reaction is "Men can't handle me because I'm a bit aggressive" or "I just know what I want and I'm not putting up with no bull" or "He just wasn't man enough to handle me" or whatever the buzz word excuse is.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Orrrrr........&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps you're just a bitch.  Let's just really call a spade a spade.  There's agressive and dominant, and there's rude and inconsiderate.  There are ways that you can find out if the man you are sitting across from has any of the qualities you want without being condescending, abrasive and disrespectful. And really, while we're being honest, many of you rude chics out there are being a bitch to these guys because you're attempting to cover up your own insecurities and issues.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're going to be a bitch, then be that.  Admit that's what you are.  Stop passing off your hatefulness as standards, your displeasing disposition as high standards, and your rudeness as honesty.  You're making the chics with legitimate standards, and dominant personalties look bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-338272564505494489?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/338272564505494489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=338272564505494489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/338272564505494489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/338272564505494489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/12/they-just-cant-handle-me.html' title='They Just Can&apos;t Handle Me'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1611274018142311837</id><published>2011-12-24T20:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T20:50:00.131-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Christmas in the Hill</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #993399;"&gt;....Was a letter from Santa and the dough's for me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's Christmas Eve at home in the Hill&lt;br /&gt;Mom ordered pizza and and tonight we'll chill&lt;br /&gt;The real food's prepped for tomorrow's feast&lt;br /&gt;And Santa put gifts under Christmas trees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family playing games at the house tonight&lt;br /&gt;It's so hot out side, kids are riding bikes&lt;br /&gt;On the tele-tele is the yule log&lt;br /&gt;As we laugh sipping wine never egg nog&lt;br /&gt;Grandma staying over so I'm out on the couch&lt;br /&gt;But it happens every year so I ain't no grouch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No grouch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;No grouch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;No grouch……&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhymes so loud and proud you hear it&lt;br /&gt;It's Christmas time and I got the spirit&lt;br /&gt;Love and thanks, not fights or pouts&lt;br /&gt;And that's what Christmas is all about&lt;br /&gt;The time is now, the place is here&lt;br /&gt;And the whole wide world is filled with cheer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name's Miss A with the mic in my hand&lt;br /&gt;And I'm chillin and cool'n just like a snowman&lt;br /&gt;So open your eyes, and lend me an ear&lt;br /&gt;I want to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1611274018142311837?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1611274018142311837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1611274018142311837&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1611274018142311837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1611274018142311837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/12/christmas-in-hill.html' title='Christmas in the Hill'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-553850163073219318</id><published>2011-11-30T07:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T07:15:54.991-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='expectations'/><title type='text'>All or Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;Do you really want to be someone's 'everything'...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This past holiday I had the pleasure of returning home.  And while driving about the town, the local radio station decided to play every Beyoncé song in existence.  That lead me to ponder this one line she has in the song 'Irreplaceable'.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Since I'm not your everything, how about I'll be nothing..."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many of you ladies out there want to be everything to your man?  Show of hands?  Really?  That many? My question to you is....WHY? That's a lot of pressure and let's be honest, none of us are that fly to be everything to someone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've heard those out there saying they want to be the mamma, daddy, sister, brother, the sun, the moon, the wind, the stars, the mountains, everything to their partner.  What for?  Don't they have those already?  If not, then fine....go be that.  But for me, I don't care to be all these other people, these other things for you....I want to be your woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want you to be able to bring your interests, your friends, your family, your life together with mine and make a beautiful union together.  Share and learn from each other. Not lose ourselves in our relationship but be there as a support as we grow and accomplish our dreams together. In order for that to happen,  I can't be your 'everything'.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong.  At some point, I'd want to be someone's priority, and maybe even muse. But I don't think I'd ever want to be someone's everything.  Nor would I want someone to be that for me.  I'll reserve that 'everything' position for my (future) child.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bottom line,  we're all fallible.  If you let someone put you that high on a pedestal, you'll break your neck when you fall.  And trust me, we all fall at some point.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-553850163073219318?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/553850163073219318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=553850163073219318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/553850163073219318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/553850163073219318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/10/all-or-nothing.html' title='All or Nothing'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5560780637589216023</id><published>2011-11-28T12:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T12:00:02.794-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='muppets'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399&amp;quot;"&gt;"...And I'm gonna always love you...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to Lawrenorder for sharing this one with me. I had almost completely forgotten about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fxuihrhJ07Y" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5560780637589216023?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5560780637589216023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5560780637589216023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5560780637589216023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5560780637589216023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/11/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/fxuihrhJ07Y/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8421246250165566954</id><published>2011-11-27T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T07:57:00.570-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food for thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflections'/><title type='text'>Happy Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Happy Thanksgiving good blog reading people!  I hope you all had a wonderful weekend of holiday meals, shopping and family time.  And maybe...just maybe...you've reflected on all the good things in your life and your at least grateful that you have a weekly grind to get back to on Monday. Might not be the grind you want but at least it's something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's important to take some time out of your days to reflect on your life and where you are at this very moment.  Compare it to where you were a year ago, 6 months ago, a week ago.  And have an honest discussion about what is actually really good in your life.  Sometimes we get so bogged down with the daily stress of living that we forget to do just that...live.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have to remember that no one really has the perfect life.  Even when we get everything we want, that level of living comes with its own requirements, responsibilities, highs and lows.  (Notice I said when, not if).  It's all about how you handle it.  Truthfully, if you can't be happy with what you have right now, living where you are today, doing what you do today, how will you know how to be happy when you 'make it'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I always say, happy is not complacent.  You don't have to live a miserable existence to motivate you to want more.  You just have to want more.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gobble, gobble, y'all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8421246250165566954?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8421246250165566954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8421246250165566954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8421246250165566954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8421246250165566954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/11/happy-thanksgiving.html' title='Happy Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2143703003387919846</id><published>2011-11-08T20:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T21:04:47.186-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heavy d'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='R.I.P'/><title type='text'>R.I.P. Heavy D</title><content type='html'>What I say.  I really and truly adored his music.  And I have never seen a man like him, move like he did.  The energy he brought to his live performances was electrifying.  I enjoyed him as the counselor on Boston Public.  I loved him as Regine's mis-matched boyfriend on Living Single. I was so happy to see him close out the Hip-Hop Awards this year.  Didn't think that would be the last time I got to see him perform. These things always make you think..... R.I.P. Heav.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VJEbfeG2oAE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2143703003387919846?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2143703003387919846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2143703003387919846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2143703003387919846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2143703003387919846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/11/rip-heavy-d.html' title='R.I.P. Heavy D'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/VJEbfeG2oAE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1828433433331635934</id><published>2011-10-26T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T12:00:09.351-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Blame It On The Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;Don't put that blame on us...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Let's talk about the ship jumpers. The turn coats.  The switch hitters.  The dudes who after bad experience after bad experience with black women, they decide they're through.  Done with black girls all together.  That black girls are just hateful, evil, all around bad news.  That in order to avoid dealing with 'drama' and 'attitude' they've decided to just date women of other races.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If YOU are always dating rude, black girls with attitudes, dealing with girl after girl after girl that's just terrible, what is the common denominator? YOU BITCH.  YOU are obviously making bad decisions. That has nothing to do with the fact that these girls are black. If YOU have always dated black girls who were bitches, sluts, gold-diggers, what makes you think you'd be able to make better choices with the women from another race?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU are choosing poorly.  YOU should re-evaluate your selection process.  It's not about her race.  It's about YOU.  Katt Williams says to us women--and I paraphrase-- if you are over the age of 25 and still talking about men ain't shit, then we need to figure out what it is about our oochie that keeps attracting 'aint shit' [negros].  Well fellas, if you're always complaining about how fucked up black women are you need to figure out what it is about your dick that keeps picking fucked up women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now don't get me wrong.  This is not about wether or not I approve or disapprove of interracial dating.  You date who you want to date.  But don't blame all of black womandom for your dating missteps.  Choose better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Punk ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1828433433331635934?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1828433433331635934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1828433433331635934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1828433433331635934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1828433433331635934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/10/blame-it-on-rain.html' title='Blame It On The Rain'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4629519771827328268</id><published>2011-09-29T13:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T13:00:03.825-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>LOL :-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;Digital dating...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.netchunks.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/Smilies.png" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 146px;" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some things are great to say in a text message.  Things like "Hi" or "Have a great day at work" or "Can you pick up some eggs on your way home".  Some things are not great to say in a text message.  Things like "We need to talk" or "Are you sleeping with my sister?" or "Got my test results".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now a days it seems like a major component of relationships seem to be how available you are through chat, text messages and your Facebook wall.  People can apparently be 'talking' (hate that word) for 3 months on chat and consider that actually dating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where dey do dat at?????&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happened to actual face to face quality time?  You know, coming over and hanging out to do something other than just smacking bellies.  Going out and enjoying each others company.  Actually holding hands and being close. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999"&gt;Today I saw a commercial for a board game and I thought...aw that would be nice.  Picturing playing it by a fire in these colder months with someone special.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999"&gt;Most of you guys get a thrill if your man 'gives' you some fertilizer for your Farmville plants.  This computer ish is just....nothing really.  It's nothing at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A computer screen, miles of DSL wire, a cell phone and satellite signals provide people a way to hide.  Not get close.  Keep people at arms length.  Or be a complete punk.  This way they can say what they want, break up when they want and never have to face the person they are hurting. OR it makes them completely obsessive, falsely attached and stalkers.  Either way you look at it, it's not good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What this digital world is great for is for those who can't see their loved ones on a daily basis.  Allows military members to see their loved ones.  Long distance couples the ability to keep their relationship alive.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But when you are two apartments over from your boo, I need you to get up and go knock on a door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4629519771827328268?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4629519771827328268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4629519771827328268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4629519771827328268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4629519771827328268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/lol.html' title='LOL :-)'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5271664503585811885</id><published>2011-09-28T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T12:00:00.687-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nwlsbh9mVI/ToJIg-1oy6I/AAAAAAAAAxU/Xdh4yQAhRro/s1600/658c9711-1904-460d-bbda-e48d7c98e678.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nwlsbh9mVI/ToJIg-1oy6I/AAAAAAAAAxU/Xdh4yQAhRro/s400/658c9711-1904-460d-bbda-e48d7c98e678.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657163813391748002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5271664503585811885?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5271664503585811885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5271664503585811885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5271664503585811885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5271664503585811885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Nwlsbh9mVI/ToJIg-1oy6I/AAAAAAAAAxU/Xdh4yQAhRro/s72-c/658c9711-1904-460d-bbda-e48d7c98e678.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-506121859395156697</id><published>2011-09-27T18:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T18:52:49.026-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='question'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'>What's the Sitch?</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;Making problems out of posies....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often come across blog posts, questions, threads or conversations involving people asking others what's going on with their mate.  And I've discovered that there are two kinds of people out there asking these questions. People that are really just reading entirely too far into people's actions and words.  Trying to figure out if there is some covert operation going on behind the scenes.  Transforming "I want chicken" into "You're terrible in bed".   And people that are completely oblivious and in denial about what is really going on.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't get people sometimes.  One minute you're talking about your man hasn't been coming home, other girls keep calling the house, you only see him after midnight, he won't take you to meet his mom, he says he doesn't love you and you have the nerve to ask if he's cheating on you and should you stay with him.  The next you're ready to break things off because he sent you THX in a text message instead of 143 and that means he must be up to something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HUH?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not one to say ignore your instincts because typically they are right.  But some of you are just so off out there.  Not every man is out there doing dirt behind your back.  Not every girl that smiles at you in the office is trying to get in your pants.  At the same time if he's dogging you out, HE'S DOGGING YOU OUT!  If you think she's sleeping with your best friend, she is. No need to say 'probably is'.  Ain't no probably.....IT IS!  I mean...have you listened to your story? Read your post? Do you hear yourself? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all I think people need to just stop and think sometimes.  Check themselves.  Not every conversation or actions in a relationship have to blow up into a huge situation.  And if the person  you are with has you living in a constant state of paranoia you need to let that go. At the same time, you can't be so desperate and afraid of being with out someone that it makes you hold on to something that is sooo toxic for you.   It's not good for you mentally or physically.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-506121859395156697?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/506121859395156697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=506121859395156697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/506121859395156697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/506121859395156697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/whats-sitch.html' title='What&apos;s the Sitch?'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3551376446153636413</id><published>2011-09-26T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T18:11:10.866-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boondocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;You see my chest....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8Z_w4Rrp9WM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3551376446153636413?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3551376446153636413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3551376446153636413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3551376446153636413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3551376446153636413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/8Z_w4Rrp9WM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6460915582613503203</id><published>2011-09-24T09:27:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T10:41:38.636-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anniversary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retrospective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thank you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evolution'/><title type='text'>It's My Blog-a-versary...Yeahhhh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;I am 6 years old today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR3WvA-MZ-zwhr-8dJ649xYiT-ClRM3aSvDrpgCnPi61QFhZvWvuw" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't believe that 6 years ago to this day, I started Confessions of a Disillusioned Black Girl. That's right. Saturday September 24, 2005 was the &lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2005/09/some-people-write-poems-just-to-be.html"&gt;first ever post&lt;/a&gt; and man....how things change.  Looking back through my archives I've talked about so many things.  Some more random than the next.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I started this blog it was just going to be a way for me to start putting some of my writing out there.  I always had this dream of publishing a book of poems and the title of this blog is actually supposed to be the name of that book.  But, being the reclusive artist that I am, it was very hard for me to share what I had written (still is to this day).  Other than a few close friends and family members, no one even knew that I wrote.  So I figured that if I started a blog and shared a few here, it would get me over my anxiety. I wrote a very &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;simple poem&lt;/span&gt;, hit publish post and there it was.  I was 'out there'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I only published a few more poems, until the urge seemingly died.  I think I had honestly forgotten all about this blog.  If you notice on my archives there is not 1 single post in 2006. Then, after a random reunion with my old friend Tony Stark, he actually encouraged me to start blogging again.  He had started &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thestarkfiles.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Stark Files&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and suggested that I start writing again. And with that, in 2007, phase II began.  I wrote a lot.  (&lt;i&gt;Mostly because I think I was competing with Mr. Stark to be the one who wrote the most on their blog&lt;/i&gt;).  I was writing about everything. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2007/08/go-go-gadget-gospel-i-can-honestly-say.html"&gt;Videos&lt;/a&gt; I loved,&lt;/span&gt; articles I read, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/search/label/football"&gt;football information for women&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;my thoughts on world events&lt;/span&gt; and my own &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;personal grievances with &lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2007/09/child-phleese.html"&gt;everyday irritations&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  This is also when the  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/search/label/random%20thought?max-results=10"&gt;Random Thoughts&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and ideas for &lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/search/label/acting%20right?max-results=10"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Acting Right&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;originated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I had not quite found my...as &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://professorlocs.typepad.com/"&gt;Professor Locs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; would say...voice yet.  And once again, I started finding less and less to write about.  After a while, I started to write about the topics my friends and I discussed and debated over.  I wrote about &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2008/03/case-of-ex.html"&gt;being friends post break up&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2008/03/know-your-role.html"&gt;roles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; people often play in relationships and my irritation with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2008/03/man-dibbs.html"&gt;childish behavior&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as adults.  But the real jump off point had to be when I shared my thoughts on the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2008/03/you-me-she.html"&gt;other woman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  And the rest, as they say, was history.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have learned a lot over the years.  Took a few blogging seminars and some great lessons from a master blogger herself Alease M. at the&lt;a href="http://aleasemichelle.typepad.com/my_weblog/"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;School of Creative Business&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  I'm slowly getting over my hesitation to 'put myself out there' and have already begun implementing some of the lessons I've learned from Alease.  This blog has grown so much with what I've done so far that I'm excited to see how far I can take it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what does the next 6 years hold for this Disillusioned Black Girl?  Big things, my friends (with fingers crossed).  So keep reading!  I thank all those who have supported and encouraged me.  Thank you to all those who follow and share me.  A special thank you to those who inspire me to keep writing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6460915582613503203?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6460915582613503203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6460915582613503203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6460915582613503203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6460915582613503203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/its-my-blogg-versaryyeahhhh.html' title='It&apos;s My Blog-a-versary...Yeahhhh!'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1665203189888914551</id><published>2011-09-02T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T13:20:00.361-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>How To Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #993399"&gt;How do you learn?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you'd never really think anyone would have been spurred to discuss something based off a Lil' Wayne song, but the overplay of his track 'How To Love' actually made me think.  Specifically the chorus.  For those who are unfamiliar it goes:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You had a lot of crooks tryna steal your heart&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Never really had luck, couldn’t never figure out&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;How to love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;How to love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You had a lot of moments that didn’t last forever&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now you in the corner tryna put it together&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;How to love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;How to love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many of us are really actually taught how to love? I mean even if you came from a 2 parent household and what is traditionally thought of as a loving family, are you learning how to love? Or are you learning just how your parents love? And what if you don't have that? Where do you learn it?  Is it something that can even be learned?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't learn it from music.  Can't learn it from movies. All those sources either romanticize, demonize, or over sexualize love. You can learn to give and receive affection, but that's not necessarily love. Many often confuse affection, and sex with love and that's wrong too. And granted many of us learn to love by those around us giving love to us but that's not the same as romantic love. I mean your friends and your granny loves you but not the same way a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife would. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you watch a husband help his sick wife go to the bathroom and you may often hear people say 'now, that's love'.  Why?  Nurses do that.  Husband's don't get paid for it, so is that what makes it love? You may watch a wife support her husband through a loss of a job and people will say 'now, that's love'. Is it? Isn't that just being supportive?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is love a combination of several different things? Take support, affection, caring, concern, throw that all into a pot and mix it with unconditional, a bit of passion, and desire, bake for 6-12 months and *poof* you have your love soufflé.  No two people show, give or receive love in the same way. I guess in the end we have to decide for ourselves what love looks like.   And, in turn, teach the ones we are with how to love us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there are so many of us don't love ourselves we're so unable to teach someone else how to love us.  And if you can't figure out how to teach it....how do you learn?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1665203189888914551?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1665203189888914551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1665203189888914551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1665203189888914551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1665203189888914551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/how-to-love.html' title='How To Love'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8347586714111300732</id><published>2011-09-01T00:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T00:07:54.369-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reflections'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To Me!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Another year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://birthdaybirthdaycake.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/birthday-cake-picture.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 143px; height: 250px;" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So once again I'm able to sit here, 30 minutes to my birthday and reflect on the year that's passed. And really...  I'm good. I'm actually really good.  Got over a big financial hurdle. Booked my ticket to visit the Young One in LA this weekend (woot!). Still have my job. Getting my piano playing skills back. Started making jewelry again (look for the ability to purchase it soon). I'm writing my books (working on 2). Got some plans for something new for this blog. In general...getting my Renaissance woman on. And though I'm still not 100% sure of what my next direction will be, I've put my wheels in motion so I'm going somewhere. (I may look still, but real killers move in silence).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what I've learned this year is to truly live the quote by President Roosevelt: "Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." You may not have everything.  You may not even be where you want to be.  But why be miserable? Happiness does not equal complacency. If you can find a way to be happy now, imagine how happy you will be when you actually 'make it'. If you always search for happiness in things, situations, conditions, you'll always be miserable. So just be thankful you're breathing and enjoy life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you to my students, family and friends who have already sent me birthday wishes. (One doesn't need to be a stranger - yea...I'm calling you out!!) And at the same time I'll do my best to be less of a stranger as well.  And with that, I blow out my candles...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8347586714111300732?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8347586714111300732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8347586714111300732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8347586714111300732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8347586714111300732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/09/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday To Me!!!'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4013014994256013182</id><published>2011-08-29T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T12:00:03.880-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boondocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='martin luther king'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/M5FR1LGsT7E" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4013014994256013182?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4013014994256013182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4013014994256013182&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4013014994256013182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4013014994256013182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/moment-of-simple_29.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/M5FR1LGsT7E/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-199911960714086418</id><published>2011-08-28T13:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T13:00:02.758-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='man hips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pleated pants'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Pleated pants.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OJg8KYRmSo8/TcJlFaYFnSI/AAAAAAAAAcw/x0gX-naBSds/s1600/Pleated+Pants.JPG" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 343px;" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear men of the world,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is no longer acceptable for you to adorn your lower body with pleated pants.  It doesn't matter the brand, the color, the length, the position of the pleats, if they are in fact 'back in style' - Just Say No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While the pleated pants do offer a bit more space and coverage for your valuables in the front, it generates one of the top unappealing physical traits (in my opinion) on a man: Man Hips.  Pleats make your waist look tiny and your hips look big.  Giving you a curvy silhouette that should only be reserved for a woman's body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now nature will often bless you with a curvier lower half than most.  Especially if you're brown. Can't fault you for that. And to be honest, there's nothing wrong with a man who has just enough junk in his trunk.  Us ladies like to peer at that too.  This is why you should find fits and shapes that make you look sophisticated and streamlined. I cannot stress enough how important it is for a man's dress clothes to be fitted properly.  Failure to do so makes you appear a bit immature and unprofessional.  And no woman wants that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So gentleman, while you're out there shopping for you latest look remember to look for flat front pants.  Because pleated pants and man hips are just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-199911960714086418?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/199911960714086418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=199911960714086418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/199911960714086418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/199911960714086418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OJg8KYRmSo8/TcJlFaYFnSI/AAAAAAAAAcw/x0gX-naBSds/s72-c/Pleated+Pants.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-692402243581379116</id><published>2011-08-27T13:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T13:00:00.212-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Dating ≠ Smashing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Can a  man just date a woman?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;SO, let me pose a question:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If a guy says that he's dating multiple people, do you automatically assume he has a legion of fuck buddies?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ask this in reaction to something I read in a comment on a video about dating and being single. The person commenting basically assumed that since this person was casually dating multiple women, he was in fact fucking them.  All of them.  And randomly gathering new ones weekly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is that really what you think about when someone says they're dating multiple people?  That this dude is really just out there poking his stick into a bunch of random chics? Is that what dating is to you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it would be nieve for us to believe that men were not out there having random sex because many do. And even guys who are dating has those he is actually sleeping with. But, I think it's shallow to reduce all men to that most primal and doggish level.  Just because a man is out there dating, it doesn't mean that he's just out there smashing everything that moves.  Think about how many times you've done dinner and a movie with a guy and didn't give him the goodies.  You could have seen him several times after that and then ended things without ever having sex with him.  So why not think that (some of) the girls this guy is seeing are doing the same thing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not every guy out there is chasing scandalous chics.  The girls he's dating could be just as respectable and 'good' as you are.  And if he's being honest with you about seeing other people, it is not unreasonable to assume he's been just as honest with them.  We need to give guys a bit more credit.  Otherwise, we could miss out on a guy that is really great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-692402243581379116?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/692402243581379116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=692402243581379116&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/692402243581379116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/692402243581379116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/dating-smashing.html' title='Dating &amp;#8800; Smashing'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1600050452378967893</id><published>2011-08-26T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T12:00:03.934-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='club'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AnCPb8yYS_g/TlU5PXxu2BI/AAAAAAAAAxI/pCYt1fhvU58/s1600/acting_right_13.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AnCPb8yYS_g/TlU5PXxu2BI/AAAAAAAAAxI/pCYt1fhvU58/s400/acting_right_13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644480644222212114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The weekend is here.  For many of you that means it's time to hit the clubs.  Before you head out best dressed like a million bucks, let's discuss how to behave at a club or party (these rules apply to both).   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rules for the Ladies:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#1. Be respectful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is important to remember to be respectful when denying dances and advances from men. Unless that man gets rowdy with you, there is no need for you to jump off rowdy with him. Even if he does get ignorant, just find your group and walk away. No need to let a sorry man ruin your good time or take you to a less than lady like place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And just so you are aware, protocol dictates that when you refuse a dance or a drink from one man, it is improper to immediately accept a dance or drink from another man. Not saying just because you deny one you can't accept from another the whole night.  Just don't bounce the guy on the left to get with the guy on the right.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#2. Hold your liquor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you can't drink, don't drink.  I'm all for going out, getting 'nice' and having a good time, but it is sooo not cute to be the &lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2010/12/not-good-look.html"&gt;sloppy girl&lt;/a&gt; in the club.  Too much alcohol only leads to foggy memories of late nights, regrettable early mornings and vomit on your shoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#3. If you don't want to be there, then don't be there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's nothing worst in the club to be the girl with the shit face on the entire night.  Hating on every song the DJ plays. Not dancing.  Not drinking.  Just out there on the floor being miserable.  If you got to the club and it didn't turn out the way you expected it to, then leave and go somewhere else.  If you don't feel like going out that night, it's better to just stay home. If you hate the clubs, then don't go to the clubs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#4. Don't be a tease.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies, boo'd up or single, often like to go to the clubs just to get out.  We want to dance, drink, listen to good music and hang with the girls.  What's important to remember is that 99% of the time, that's not why guys are in the club.  They are there to see you ladies.  Holla at you ladies. And if things go well, smash you ladies.  If you are out just to have a good time or are already taken, don't spend the whole night with 1 guy dancing, accepting drink after drink, being all sexy-flirty on the dance floor.  He's spent the whole night trying to get something to pop off with you when there was no chance.  Don't do that.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Rules for the Fellas:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#1. Be respectful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you get turned down, let it be.  Even if the girl is rude to you.  Just push on. There are way too many chics out there for you to waste your time getting fresh with this lame chic.  The only girls who don't like a well-put together, smooth man are chics you don't need to be dealing with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#2. Ask a girl to dance, don't just pounce on the booty.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't even have to be a verbal asking like back in the day.  Most will settle for eye contact, head nod and a frontal approach.  Nothing is worse than having a 220 pound, sweaty unknown man suddenly grind his junk all on your, back breathing hot Hennessy breath on your neck. And if all you can do is grind, you can't dance boo-boo. If a girl moves away when you start all that, don't keep pulling her back.  You may just get smacked. Remember rule #1.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#3. Don't be a looky-loo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just as you hate girls with the shit face on all night, we hate guys that post up at the wall and stare you down all night.  I'm not talking just standing and not dancing.  I'm talking about straight up stare down.  Never approaching.  Never buying a drink (not even another for yourself). Just standing up against the wall, sipping through the stirrer, watching. If all you want to do is drink and stare at the T&amp;amp;A - go to the strip club.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;#4. Have a good time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing is more attractive than a man who's out enjoying himself.  Laugh. Dance. Drink.  Get silly.  Have fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those are just a few rules to consider before you nights out this weekend.  As always: Respect yourselves. Respect each other. Put good in and you'll get good out. ♥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1600050452378967893?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1600050452378967893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1600050452378967893&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1600050452378967893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1600050452378967893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AnCPb8yYS_g/TlU5PXxu2BI/AAAAAAAAAxI/pCYt1fhvU58/s72-c/acting_right_13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8374415283932372635</id><published>2011-08-25T12:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T12:52:00.944-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tylUx2jdreQ/TlUseg5G53I/AAAAAAAAAwo/47RQAFwbfAg/s1600/thought.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tylUx2jdreQ/TlUseg5G53I/AAAAAAAAAwo/47RQAFwbfAg/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644466610715944818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8374415283932372635?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8374415283932372635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8374415283932372635&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8374415283932372635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8374415283932372635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/random-thought_25.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tylUx2jdreQ/TlUseg5G53I/AAAAAAAAAwo/47RQAFwbfAg/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6441565241056904396</id><published>2011-08-24T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T12:45:59.365-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-help'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='selfish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Look Out For:</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;The Taker...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all know that every relationship involves a bit of give and take from both people involved. Sometimes individual wants will need to be compromised in order to fullfil the needs of the unit. But, if you stop for a minute, you may notice you're the one always giving in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Taker is very good at what they do.  They have an excellent game. If they didn't, many of us would sniff out their digging ways quickly.  Takers will often give you just enough to make you think that the relationship is even, when it really isn't.  They'll distract you with good sex or affection or other things to take your mind off the fact that they're just no-good.  Now many people associate Takers with gold-diggers.  That's a shallow way of thinking.  Today Takers want more than just your money. Takers want your time, your self-esteem, your dignity, your pride, your goals, your soul. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Taker will monopolize all of your time, while giving none of theirs.  For example, if you've ever called up the person you are seeing when they are busy and they don't come to you, but if they call you they throw a fit when you don't drop everything - that's a sign. Takers will always expect gifts for holidays, birthdays and other special occasions but your gift is never even remotely comprable (if you receive one at all).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And while we're on this gift thing: Fellas. I know many of you like sex.  But sex is not an acceptable 'gift' when you've just drop tons of money on a Valentine's Day gift, birthday gift, etc. No matter how freaky it is. Get your standards up!  That's how girls get over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Takers will argue you down in public, make you worry about unnecessary things when you need to be focused on your business, take you away from family and friends to separate you from some of your strength and support, try to make your world exist only because of them. A Taker only truly values their own wants and needs and as long as you can give them what they want they'll continue to stay with you.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you do find out you are with a Taker, be prepared to fight to cut them loose.  Takers don't go down easily.  They can be some of the most vindictive and manipulative people out there. Cut them off completely.  Make sure there is no longer a way for that Taker to get in. Be strong.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/love-is-not-blind.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Relationships should not be blinding&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;  Take some time. Keep your eyes open. Pay attention to the signs. Remember a person will always reveal their true selves.  You just have to be watching to see it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6441565241056904396?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6441565241056904396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6441565241056904396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6441565241056904396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6441565241056904396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/look-out-for.html' title='Look Out For:'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1900779358408233908</id><published>2011-08-22T12:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T12:38:52.235-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4NwouN_KigY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1900779358408233908?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1900779358408233908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1900779358408233908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1900779358408233908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1900779358408233908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/moment-of-simple_22.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/4NwouN_KigY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3143552760750619388</id><published>2011-08-10T12:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T16:25:16.448-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2010/051/7/d/so_i_hug_by_szczygiel.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 604px; height: 604px;" src="http://th06.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2010/051/7/d/so_i_hug_by_szczygiel.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3143552760750619388?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3143552760750619388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3143552760750619388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3143552760750619388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3143552760750619388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-883844987342027249</id><published>2011-08-07T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T12:00:00.360-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='community'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='protest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='issues'/><title type='text'>SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;And do something...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black people I'm tired.  I'm tired of all the talking. All the complaining.  All the 'planning'.  All the 'demanding'.  All the rhetoric.  All the promises.  All the colloquialisms.  I'm tired of 'Fighting the Power'.  Tired of being 'Black and Proud'.  I'm tired of holding my fist in the air.  I'm tired of fighting the war or drugs.  Tired of pulling up my struggling black brothers.  Tired of all the conferences. Broke from the conventions.  Worn out from donating my time. Exhausted and feet swollen from marching. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where are we going?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black people: Stop with the marches.  We've marched for black men.  We've marched for black families.  We've marched for black women.  We've marched for hunger.  Marched for Aids. Marched for dimes. Marched for the Coby show.  We've taken the concept of the historic March on Washington and bastardized it's meaning by marching for the sake of marching.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now you can say you're doing all of this to raise awareness, but raise it to whom? Everyone who's in attendance knows what the problems are.  When are you, as the supposed leaders, going to take all of this momentum, all of this rhetoric, all of these words and do something about it? When are we going to stop talking about our problems and do something?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're all aware.  We all know what the problems are.  We no longer need to 'shine a light' on ANYTHING.  We need to make some solid plans and execute them. We need to determine what our official end game will be.  We need some freaking realistic and tangible GOALS.  With out those we'll be marching around in circles for the rest of eternity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm sorry. If you don't plan on doing anything more than talking, I need for you to really shut up. Stay off the networks.  Get off my radio programs. Don't send me emails. I can't get behind another rally.  Another march.  Another protest.  I'm not buying anymore fucking buttons.  No more bumper stickers. No more bootleg t-shirts. It's time to get our shit together and fucking DO SOMETHING.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-883844987342027249?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/883844987342027249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=883844987342027249&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/883844987342027249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/883844987342027249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/shut-up-shut-up-shut-up.html' title='SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1956830531973584238</id><published>2011-08-06T19:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T20:21:26.456-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Honestly</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;No one wants complete honesty...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most people will say that when they're looking for a mate, one of the key things that person must be is honest.  And while there is a great beauty in pure, unadulterated honesty, we all know that we honestly don't want to hear everyone's honest thought, opinions and comments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies, can you imagine what you actually may hear if your man was completely honest with you all of the time? Think of all the questions you ask him:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF00CC"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do these pants make me look fat? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF9900"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Didn't you have fun at my mom's house? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC00FF"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Isn't my new hair cut cute?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If the answer is no, I doubt you really want to hear it.  I mean of course you'll say you do.....but...really. Come on now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fellas, same goes for you.  Think of all the questions you ask your girl:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3300FF"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Whose is it? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999966"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you like it? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6699FF"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Did you c.....?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you really want to know......do you?......Cause we really can tell you.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Didn't think so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really what people want out of their mate is trust.  The two are not mutually exclusive so by asking for a trustworthy person you'll ultimately get some honesty there.  When you ask for trust you can believe that when it's appropriate to be honest they will be.  Trust that when they're not honest, it is about the little things, done so to prevent offending the one you love or hurting feelings.  Trust that when they are honest that they're not doing so to be mean or rude, that it's only for your benefit. I think that's what I'd prefer.  Because everyone can be honest, doesn't mean they're all trustworthy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1956830531973584238?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1956830531973584238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1956830531973584238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1956830531973584238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1956830531973584238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/honestly.html' title='Honestly'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6161500119425022644</id><published>2011-08-02T14:39:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T20:53:13.274-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommy'/><title type='text'>You Are Not My Daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Not calling you that either...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Riding back to my house today after work the oh so lovely local radio station decided to play that song 'Wetter' by Twista.  If you're not familiar with the song &lt;strike&gt;be thankful&lt;/strike&gt;, there is basically a woman singing:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I'm callin' ya daddy, daddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Can you be my daddy, daddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I need a daddy, daddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Won't you be my daddy, daddy"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; Ok. I have a daddy. And even if I didn't have a daddy, there is no reason I even want to think of him when...you know...all of that is going down.  That's incest.  &lt;i&gt;Get that patriarchal meat.&lt;/i&gt; *shudder* That's sexy??? The only way you'll get me to call a man I'm with daddy is if I'm talking to my kids about their daddy.  And only when I talk to the kids that are say under 10.  Outside of that....not gonna happen.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That does it for you fellas?  A grown-ass woman whispering give it to me daddy in your ear? What the fuck?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And while I'm at it, don't call me mommy either. I will never be your mommy.  Don't want to be. I don't find that cute, sexy, hot, none of that.  How about we leave the parents out of our bedroom all together.  Not even pictures.  Cause even with the lights off...there eyes will be there.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just saying....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6161500119425022644?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6161500119425022644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6161500119425022644&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6161500119425022644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6161500119425022644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/you-are-not-my-daddy.html' title='You Are Not My Daddy'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1987416802494077906</id><published>2011-08-01T18:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T18:32:42.233-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family guy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jdpPZDv5Xv0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1987416802494077906?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1987416802494077906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1987416802494077906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1987416802494077906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1987416802494077906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/08/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/jdpPZDv5Xv0/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5305693568092225981</id><published>2011-07-30T19:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T19:38:00.827-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheating'/><title type='text'>You Smelt It, You Dealt It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Point one at me, you have 3 pointing at you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here you are in your relationship...chugging along...everything is all gravy. You're vibing with them, they're apparently vibing with you then all of a sudden...they start trippin.  They're looking through your phone, checking up on where you're going, claiming you're checking out the next man in line at the grocery store, accusing you of cheating.  And you're left standing there, shields out wondering where in the world all of this came from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Usually most of that noise is comes from a guilty conscious.  They know what they've managed to have time and desire to get into, so they think you could very well be doing the same thing. Why wouldn't you be doing the same thing? How could you not be doing the same thing? And they're going to start flapping around and clucking to distract you from focusing on them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before you go above and beyond trying to prove to your significant other that you're not out there doing them wrong, you may want to stop and watch them for a second.  You may find out that, in the midst of this slanderous hurricane, they're the one who's been out there double dipping their fun stick.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5305693568092225981?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5305693568092225981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5305693568092225981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5305693568092225981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5305693568092225981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/you-smelt-it-you-dealt-it.html' title='You Smelt It, You Dealt It'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8646419439635895134</id><published>2011-07-28T11:40:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T11:58:30.782-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal space'/><title type='text'>Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;Respect the personal space...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often spend so much time on here talking about the grimier side of people, I think it's time to recognize some of the good things people do.  Today I have to say thank you to all of those who are respectful of someone else's personal space.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People often forget how important that personal space is. Think about how the perceptions about the dynamics of a conversation can change just based on the proximity of the people involved.  People standing farther apart tell a different story than two standing face to face. Fight vs respectable disagreement.  Casual conversation vs intimate discussion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes the respect of that personal space is just polite.  For example, today at the drug store the person behind me actually waited in line at a nice distance.  Giving me the privacy to check out the items I needed and complete my transaction without having to hide the credit card screen under my hand for fear of prying eyes.  Too often I find the back of my neck warm from the nostril air because the person behind me is right up on me.  So thank you respectful stranger.  And thank you to all those who respect the bubble.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8646419439635895134?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8646419439635895134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8646419439635895134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8646419439635895134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8646419439635895134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/good-look.html' title='Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3761762495667231332</id><published>2011-07-26T15:21:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T21:36:28.250-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrubs'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>I watched this today, and  I just had to post it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/nMnymykUq-g" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3761762495667231332?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3761762495667231332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3761762495667231332&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3761762495667231332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3761762495667231332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/nMnymykUq-g/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-616292924099998544</id><published>2011-07-25T20:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T20:55:59.814-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='white T'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399"&gt;They're called an undershirts for a reason...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really do hate to make my 'Not A Good Look' posts about actual looks, but with it being as hot as it is I really must say external 'wife beaters' and white t's are not the business.  Now I can sort of give you a pass if the t's are fresh out of the box, and excellent quality. But let's just be honest here...those are not the one's you fellas are wearing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you're T is so thin I could watch TV through it and all of your unruly, taco meat is visible through the shirt, you should not be wearing that alone.  If you're shirts are so stretched out you could take it off by sliding it down around your hips, that is not grocery store appropriate apparel.  If your shirts are so stained it looks more like a denver nuggets jersey, you don't need to wear that out in public.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you really just need a white T, there are plenty of places you can get an appropriate one from for a good price.  Cause, boo, beat down beaters and raggedy white T's are just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-616292924099998544?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/616292924099998544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=616292924099998544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/616292924099998544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/616292924099998544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2522255542425449598</id><published>2011-07-23T15:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T15:52:34.034-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amy winehouse'/><title type='text'>R.I.P Amy Winehouse</title><content type='html'>I've seen some comments and some overall cavalier attitudes towards this news.  But wether it is expected, unexpected or deserved, notification of someone's death is nothing to be callous about. Wether we know that person, think we know that person or hate that person, each and every one of us mean something to someone. Respect that.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;R.I.P to a very young woman with a beautiful voice whose 'love' ultimately cost her her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TJAfLE39ZZ8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2522255542425449598?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2522255542425449598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2522255542425449598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2522255542425449598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2522255542425449598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/rip-amy-winehouse.html' title='R.I.P Amy Winehouse'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/TJAfLE39ZZ8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5818183065768616848</id><published>2011-07-18T22:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T11:59:26.290-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Be Easy on the Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;They are not your 'yes' man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'll be honest, the inspiration for this post came from after watching an episode of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vh1.com/shows/basketball_wives/season_2/series.jhtml"&gt;Basketball Wives&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  (Don't judge me - hear me out).  Back story: In the episode one of the ladies made remarks against her 'best friend's' man.  She apparently has not celebrated in the engagement or be the most excited about the relationship.  The remarks she made about the relationship were on a radio show and ultimately brought these issues to the surface. The hurt woman is upset that her best friend isn't happy for her or apparently supportive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand that it hurst to have your friend not be happy for you when you are so happy or excited about your situation.  And, while I do believe that it was wrong for the girl to say those negative comments about her girl's man on the air, I think people need to stop expecting for their friends to co-sign every decision they make.  It is not the responsibility of the best friend to be your yes man.  And them not supporting every decision you make does not make them haters either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are your friend.  They are the ones that are often left carrying you when you've fallen down broken.  They're the one's who's shoulders are soaking wet from letting you cry on them.  They're supposed to be there not only to support you but to also help you keep from making poor decisions, because they truly care about you.  It would be wrong of them not to call you on your shit from time to time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And let's be honest.  &lt;a href="http://andlea.blogspot.com/2011/04/breaking-point_14.html"&gt;How many times do you expect for your friend to sit quietly while they watch you continuously make the same mistakes over and over and over again&lt;/a&gt;.  Eventually those constant conscious mistakes and those poor decision making skills start to make a person question wether you are the type of person they need to be associating with. And sadly the relationship starts to erode.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can honestly say that I've watched several of many of the people in my life make decisions I have not agreed with several times.  All you can do is speak your piece in the most respectful way possible (sometimes) and hope that your friend, being your friend, hears it in the way it was intended. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5818183065768616848?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5818183065768616848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5818183065768616848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5818183065768616848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5818183065768616848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/be-easy-on-best-friend.html' title='Be Easy on the Best Friend'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2157745295245916938</id><published>2011-07-11T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T12:00:03.208-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sesame street'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ODJ-AAmCM-A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2157745295245916938?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2157745295245916938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2157745295245916938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2157745295245916938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2157745295245916938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ODJ-AAmCM-A/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5626991813822793045</id><published>2011-07-06T21:37:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T13:45:13.102-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='calling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWIDTF1oFSA/TlU4ni_wQoI/AAAAAAAAAww/_ef6LOG7-cY/s1600/acting_right_12.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWIDTF1oFSA/TlU4ni_wQoI/AAAAAAAAAww/_ef6LOG7-cY/s400/acting_right_12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644479960039047810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok.  Let me just say this.  LADIES! There is absolutely no reason for you to be going through your man's phone, texting random girls in his phone book, or calling and playing around.  NO. FUCKING. REASON. AT. ALL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;And fella's if you're doing this...really.......I-I-I-can't even. Just grow some balls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like I shouldn't have to say anymore but I know I do because....man, it's such a rampant problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently you have some trust issues.  And those issues have nothing at all to do with that chic you're calling.  What needs to happen is you need to figure out why you can't trust your man.  If he's cheating then deal with HIM.  Decide if you want to even put up with this.  I mean do you really want to be like that dog in the yard barking at everyone that comes by? Eventually the kids in the neighborhood are going to start throwing rocks at your ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If he's not cheating then, honey, get some help!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it's not trust issues you say? Then what is the problem? Are you 12? How the hell can you claim to be a grown ass woman and still find it funny to prank call women in your man's phone? What if the number is a client? His boss? A co-worker?  Here you are making your man look terribly unprofessional, irresponsible, and childish.  Jeopardizing his potential to make money. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GROW THE FUCK UP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5626991813822793045?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5626991813822793045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5626991813822793045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5626991813822793045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5626991813822793045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/07/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWIDTF1oFSA/TlU4ni_wQoI/AAAAAAAAAww/_ef6LOG7-cY/s72-c/acting_right_12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5733290686345740611</id><published>2011-06-29T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T12:00:00.339-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.demotivation.us/media/demotivators/demotivation.us_By-nature-a-woman-is-an-angel-but-if-her-wings-get-broken-she-learns-how-to-fly-on-a-broom_130147182348.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 601px;" src="http://www.demotivation.us/media/demotivators/demotivation.us_By-nature-a-woman-is-an-angel-but-if-her-wings-get-broken-she-learns-how-to-fly-on-a-broom_130147182348.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5733290686345740611?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5733290686345740611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5733290686345740611&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5733290686345740611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5733290686345740611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2312351627220512846</id><published>2011-06-26T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T20:13:39.807-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='requirements'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Too Much To Ask</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;Women and their requirements....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why is it that when women list the traits they want in a man the first thing people say is "oh you're asking for too much"? Turn on any talk show, any radio show, open any dating/relationship book and one of the main things you'll see them recommend to women is to 'adjust' their requirements. I will admit that many women have a laundry list of things they want in a man (many of them they do not even possess themselves). It would be different if those were the only expectations we were talking about.  But they are not, and I don't understand why everyone feels the need to tell women what they are asking for is unreasonable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a woman, I am expected to be a wife, a mother, a god-fearing woman, a freak, strong yet compassionate, a good cook, a good maid, often a doctor, a caretaker, physically fit but curvy, intelligent but not a know-it-all, a tailor, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker..... BUT! If I have a series of requirements for my mate, I'm asking too much?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The minute one of us begins to put requirements on what we want in a man we are just being unreasonable, unrealistic, and irrational.  Why? Are you as a man not as diverse in your talent as us women are?  Are you not able to live up to higher expectations? Why must I lower my standards to prevent a lifetime of loneliness? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From the beginning women are brought up knowing they will have a lot of responsibilities. We know we have many roles we need to fill, and many tasks we need to master in order to be that 'perfect' wife and mother.  We know that in order to compete in this male driven world, we have to be 10 times better than our counterparts in order to be successful.  We are brought up knowing that we have to 'bring it' in order to make it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The same goes for you guys.  Especially if you are a minority male.  You know all the things you've had to make yourself become in order to be successful.  Sadly, many of you were not fortunate enough to be groomed by a man on what it takes to be a wonderful husband or father. But honestly, many of us ladies don't hold that against you. Many of you have grown to become wonderful and successful men and fathers without that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of attacking the requirements, why not just step up to the plate.  Be the best you, you can be.  Man up!  Cause all the whining and complaining you do about my requirements only lets me know that you are so not on my level.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2312351627220512846?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2312351627220512846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2312351627220512846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2312351627220512846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2312351627220512846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/too-much-to-ask_26.html' title='Too Much To Ask'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1688168040447379122</id><published>2011-06-24T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T10:37:29.930-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Love Is Not Blind</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;It's just ignorant....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is not blind.  You saw that person when you first met them.  You saw something to make you go over and start up a conversation.  You see that person almost every day.  You see what they do almost every day.  You see how they act towards you and other people.  You see everything everyone else sees and more.  So love is not BLIND!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is ignorant.  Love makes you ignore your partners faults.  It makes you dismiss inappropriate behavior.  It makes you accept things you would normally not let anyone else get away with.  It mutes the little voice of reason inside. And while sometimes, the ability to ignore the little things is what makes love great, it's also what allows 'love' to go so bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now there's no need to discuss how good love is here, because most people who use the phrase 'love is blind' are not doing so in a positive situation.  It's only applied when things are bad. Just another way of passing the responsibility. It's what people use to dismiss inadequacies, flaws, and overall incompatibilities in their mates. It's what people use to explain how people could be married to serial killers and not be aware.  It's what people use to justify staying in an abusive relationship.  It is probably one of the biggest cop-outs of personal responsibility EVER!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1688168040447379122?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1688168040447379122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1688168040447379122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1688168040447379122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1688168040447379122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/love-is-not-blind.html' title='Love Is Not Blind'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3997919787418907972</id><published>2011-06-23T13:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T13:12:00.572-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Let Me Clear My Throat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;Stupid, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;mother-f^#&amp;amp;ing&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;b!%ch-a$$...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know....I don't understand how shitty people think they're going to end up with Mr./Mrs. Wonderful.  Here you are, a horrible human being.  Self-centered, disrespectful, rude, common and ignorant and you think you deserve a man or woman that will worship the ground you walk on?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bitch please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That Golden Rule stuff they taught you in elementary school just went in one ear and out the other.  You put in shit, you get out shit.  But, because you're cute (or think you are) you feel like that makes it ok for you to be a complete fucker to everyone around you.  Those rules don't apply to people like yourself.  Your 'above' that cause &lt;i&gt;you know, like, you're cute so......&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're looks. That's it. That's the only thing you feel you need to bring to the table.  You can't read.  You can't write. You talk like a deaf, LD, 3rd grader. And we are supposed to just deal with your fucked up ass attitude cause we should be so honored that someone that looks like you even bothers to 'grace' us with your presence. I mean it's not totally your fault.  Hey, people have allowed  you to get away with this behavior before, so why ruin a good thing by being...I don't know...a good person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All you bobble-headed barbies and blow-pop minded pretty boys need to recognize that there's only so much surgery can fix.  You're not going to be cute forever.  Hell you may not even be cute to that man/woman tomorrow.  There's always something flyer, hotter, younger around the corner that can turn your mate's head faster than you ever did. And because you have no viable life skills and no friends (cause remember...you're a dick), when they get tired of your ass, you'll be the hottest homeless bitch on the corner.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3997919787418907972?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3997919787418907972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3997919787418907972&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3997919787418907972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3997919787418907972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/let-me-clear-my-throat.html' title='Let Me Clear My Throat'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5706820379042756658</id><published>2011-06-21T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T12:00:07.135-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>If Hey Says It He Means It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;No means no!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies, we all know that at times we hear what we 'want' to hear.  We see what we 'want' to see and that's that.  We all know that many times when a guy says one thing he really means another.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;He says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; Yea I'm single.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Translates to:&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Yea I kick it with a couple of girls, but none of those chics are my girlfriend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So to just blindly take him at his word would just be naive of you.  However, if a man says he's not looking for a relationship right now, he's not feeling you in that way, he doesn't see this relationship going any further than it is, then please believe he's telling you the truth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are truly dealing with a MAN, he was brought up to say what he means and mean what he says. This is the one time where 'I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now' really translates into I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP RIGHT NOW.  But women don't want to hear that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Women hear 'right now'. So to many women that means, there's a possibility in the future you will actually want to be in a serious relationship. That means she can wait you out, wear you down, 'convince' you that she are the one for you.  This way when 'not right now' turns into 'right now', there she is. Arms wide open. *GOTCHA*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies, you go out of your way and enter into a girlfriend/wife role prematurely.  Trying to show him all of your good qualities.  Simulating what a relationship between the two of you could be.  This way he'll just have to change his mind and realize that you are who he wants to be with.  You and only you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stop that.  Ladies, I know it's hard. Especially if this man is showing you he possesses all of the qualities you are looking for in a man.  You only end up hurting yourself in the end. While he may be Mr. Right to you, to him you just may be good enough for right now. Him kicking it with you now doesn't mean he'll want to be with you in the end. Truthfully, if he was really looking for a serious girl you've already knocked yourself out of the race. The simple fact that you're giving him the girlfriend goodies with out any of the boyfriend responsibilities doesn't really make you look good.  It's just ups his player status.  He's had to do no work and you give him everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So ladies, if you're going to date, date.  If it evolves it evolves.  But don't get your feelings caught up in a man who is not ready to get his feelings caught up in you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5706820379042756658?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5706820379042756658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5706820379042756658&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5706820379042756658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5706820379042756658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/if-hey-says-it-he-means-it.html' title='If Hey Says It He Means It'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6841737658336456470</id><published>2011-06-20T20:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T20:21:24.288-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pointer sisters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;How many of you remember this TV special?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JPfkGfWQZ-4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6841737658336456470?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6841737658336456470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6841737658336456470&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6841737658336456470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6841737658336456470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/06/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/JPfkGfWQZ-4/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5463636891656787958</id><published>2011-05-15T12:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T09:15:22.281-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spitting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not  A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Did you just spit?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;T25C6T5C7J34&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Picture it ladies.  You see this foine piece of man across the way.  He sees you.  You start walking towards each other as if in slow motion.  And just before the two of you get close, he cocks his head to the side...you hear a rumble from his chest...and *Hhhhhhhhhhhccccccc-PTooooooooo*. He lets loose a nice big ol' stream of chest snot. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Record scratch - pause - ewww).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yea.  I want to kiss that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It doesn't matter if you are a super model or a toothless gremlin.  Spitting is so not a good look.  I understand that sometimes it simply must come out but can you at least do it out of sight.  As in not while we are face to face having a conversation.  As in not when we are walking together.  Dismiss yourself for a bit and spit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And while I'm asking.  Can you spit in the grass?  It's bad enough I have to walk around duck poo, low flying hornets, gum, spiders.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5463636891656787958?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5463636891656787958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5463636891656787958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5463636891656787958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5463636891656787958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/not-good-look_15.html' title='Not  A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-7858750393940260895</id><published>2011-05-07T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T13:46:07.425-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VDmyJtHzFd8/TlU40_1trgI/AAAAAAAAAw4/FMybPZWPeVI/s1600/acting_right_11.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VDmyJtHzFd8/TlU40_1trgI/AAAAAAAAAw4/FMybPZWPeVI/s400/acting_right_11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644480191119863298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies across the country are constantly screaming that they want a real man. Men's responses to them: You be a real woman.  Each tends to point the finger back at the other when in reality they both need to sit back and look at themselves. What are you doing to allow that man to be the man?  What are you doing to make that woman feel like a woman?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies, if you want a man to treat you like a woman, you need to act like a woman. Be confident, not conceited.  Be powerful, not a b!t&amp;amp;h.  Be intelligent, not stuck up.  Be poised and respectful.  Be loving and attentive.  You don't have to be docile to be a woman, and you should not be.  That's not what makes a woman.  You can be strong, but if that man has the ability to take care of some of the things you need taken care of, let him.  Allow him to do nice things for you.  Give him the opportunity to lead if it so fits. Respect yourself. How you present yourself to that man is how he will treat you. If you want to be treated with all the respect a true woman deserves, then you must behave accordingly.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gentlemen, if you want to be treated like a man, you must act like a man. Regardless if a woman is respectful to you or to herself you must always be respectful to her; even when you walk away. You must be confident. You must at some point be about your business and handle your business properly. You have to display some form of intelligence &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"&gt;(stupid men destroy the world)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. You too, must be loving and attentive.  Be trustworthy and honest.  Be a man of your word.  Be confident but be secure enough to acknowledge the fact that you can't always do it by yourself.  You are the pillar in which many family's are built upon, so you have to be strong. If you are able to do those things, in your moments of weakness, you will most certainly have a woman there to have your back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fellas consider this: A woman, especially a black woman, has often had to navigate this harsh world on her own.  She's had to make hard decisions and take control.  She will only relinquish some of that to you if you have proven yourself worthy.  I mean think about it like this: If Jo-Jo never shows up to work on time, are you going to trust him to be there to open the store every morning? Of course not. It's no different for a woman. So you have to establish yourself as someone she can count on; someone she can trust. You cannot expect her to cook, clean and be a domestic and sex goddess to you if you don't do what you need to do.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies please remember: A man will only act like a man if you allow him to be that.  Don't emasculate your man every chance you get.  Don't constantly undermine his decisions. Treating him badly, yelling, being hateful will get you no where.  Being kind but never letting him take the lead role is just as bad.  If he has proven that he can handle business, let him. Be secure enough to trust him.  And know that if things do fall apart, you can pick up the pieces (together or apart).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Respect yourselves. Respect each other.  Put good in and you'll get good out. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif, arial, 'Arial Unicode MS', 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana; font-size: 28px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 56px; "&gt;♥&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-7858750393940260895?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/7858750393940260895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=7858750393940260895&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7858750393940260895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7858750393940260895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VDmyJtHzFd8/TlU40_1trgI/AAAAAAAAAw4/FMybPZWPeVI/s72-c/acting_right_11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8954220817999650630</id><published>2011-05-05T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T12:00:04.769-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='requirements'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='qualifications'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='expectations'/><title type='text'>Relationship Requirements</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The cycle of expectations...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you grow up, what you require out of a partner changes. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;(Or at least it should)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  What was good enough at 16 should not be good enough at 35.  What you could tolerate at 25 you will not put up with at 40.  And that is as it should be.  Ideally, as a person you have matured, grown, made advances in your life that make it absolutely impossible to continue dealing with the same 'type' of people. So here's kind of my summary of the dating requirements at the various stages of life:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Teenage years:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You require nothing but a driver's license typically.  And even that isn't fully required.  You guys need little to nothing from the person you are dating.  Everything you need right now should (in an ideal world) be coming from a parent or some other adult in your life.  Too tragically for many that is not the case. But really at 16, dating should be fun. Hanging out, no cares, no worries, just the two of you enjoying your time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;Let's just be honest we all know that dating as a teen comes with teenage type drama, but it really shouldn't be that way.  Too many of you young people are entering into grown up relationships with no grownup experience. Take some time and be a child.  You only have a few years at this age. What do you really have to have drama over? He's cheating?? Of course he is.  He's a 16 year old boy who just discovered what his ding-dong could do.... anyway... I'm off track....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;College years - 25ish:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is where the dating scene starts to evolve a bit.  For many who went to school in the south, this is where you start to seek out your potential wife or husband. Your requirements here are a bit more evolved, but still have a few of the requirements of your teenage dating years.  You want to get out there and meet people.  Have fun. Party.  And as you get towards the end of your college career and post graduation, you start to look for someone who has goals and aspirations.  Someone who is starting to work towards those goals.  Someone who can take this journey to the top together with you. Neither one of you have too much of anything.  It doesn't even really matter if you are not 100% sure of what you want to do.  But that's OK because you can get it together. We can figure it out. You help me, I help you, kind of thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Post 25 - 35:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now it starts the time of standards.  Many have gotten to at least level 1 of their future goals. Some are even farther than that in their master life plan. You have houses, cars, expenses, (sometimes kids). You are working towards getting to the next level in your career. So you are looking for someone who is as close to your level as possible. Someone who can add what they have to what you have to help you build your empire. Someone who has absolutely nothing at this stage in the game starts to be a bit more unacceptable. At this stage, you are way to busy and have too much going on to be dragging someone else along with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;--These are my assumptions.  I'm not there yet on the scale so I can't really speak from experience. But this is what I will be doing when I hit those ages--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Mid-life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point, you either have all of what you want or you are really super close. So why on earth would you waste your time dealing with someone who has nothing, or is still struggling to make it?  You've been there and done that. You're ready to be happy and comfortable.  That doesn't mean you're settled in and not moving about.  It just means that you don't have time for drama, excuses, or empty promises. I think here, you're looking for more stability. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Post Mid-life:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the stage I think it reverts back to your teenage years. You just want to have fun. You're fully settled in.  You need no one for anything really other than companionship.  So as long as they aren't in the relationship for your money, you have no problem dealing with someone who doesn't have anything. As long as they treat you well, support you anyway they can, and are someone you truly enjoy spending time with then it's all good for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-----------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essentially, your requirements from your potential mate are yours and yours alone. However, regardless of what dating stage you are currently in, you must have standards. It is not cute to be in the street at 40 trying to pull out another 40 year old's weave because you caught her sleeping with your man. At some point you have to simply put away childish things. Don't put up with bs just to have someone to lay beside at night. Love yourself enough to know what you will and will not tolerate.  If you expect more from yourself at certain ages, the you must expect more from the person/people you choose to spend your time with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8954220817999650630?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8954220817999650630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8954220817999650630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8954220817999650630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8954220817999650630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/relationship-requirements.html' title='Relationship Requirements'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5247028584325576588</id><published>2011-05-04T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T13:08:01.097-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stupid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1thVLb8e1no/Tb2TlsNReHI/AAAAAAAAAuE/poWBpc3hggE/s1600/thought.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1thVLb8e1no/Tb2TlsNReHI/AAAAAAAAAuE/poWBpc3hggE/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601795787250038898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5247028584325576588?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5247028584325576588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5247028584325576588&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5247028584325576588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5247028584325576588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1thVLb8e1no/Tb2TlsNReHI/AAAAAAAAAuE/poWBpc3hggE/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8433266775138858676</id><published>2011-05-03T11:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T12:47:07.990-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>No One Else</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;You can only talk to me, me and me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know the saying 'if you've never met his friends or anyone from his family you are not his girl'? Well what about the opposite?  What if your girl or guy never wants to meet your friends, never wants to meet your family, AND never wants you to see them either. What does that mean? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;(they're crazy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This whole, 'it's me or them' attitude is crazy to me. Removing 'distractions' from a relationship will only help in certain contexts.  Sometimes, the reason you are not getting the time you want or feel you deserve is because they simply don't want to give it to you.  Honestly, if you're relationship is so fragile that it can't take your partner having their own life, no matter what you do it won't survive.  And that has nothing to do with the friends or family. So you can try and pull him or her away from them as much as you want to, but you still may not get what it is you're looking for. Besides that, it makes you look childish and insecure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even if the family and friends are of an unfavorable crowd, who are you to tell another grown person who they can or cannot hang out with? Especially when it comes to family.  Regardless of how bad they are, it is your partners responsibility to deal with them. If the person you are with starts to see family and friends as a problem, and you mean anything to them, trust that they will handle that. You are not a dictator, not a warden, often times you're not even the wife or husband. You can suggest they distance themselves.  You can even restrict the time you spend with them. But you simply cannot force your partner to not associate with people that were there before you existed and will be there long after you're gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8433266775138858676?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8433266775138858676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8433266775138858676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8433266775138858676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8433266775138858676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/no-one-else.html' title='No One Else'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6994179282009493928</id><published>2011-05-02T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T12:00:10.263-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cosby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Working for the weekend...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-853fbab21c77fc0c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D853fbab21c77fc0c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329949314%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7C88414B809A9BEC2010F1B8B3893BE6CAA40C69.41A416FA39C0BD15F3EEF7D6CC7F6671DECF8499%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D853fbab21c77fc0c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaAr_c7JwWpL7MYpUVSdgpSDCNbU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D853fbab21c77fc0c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329949314%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7C88414B809A9BEC2010F1B8B3893BE6CAA40C69.41A416FA39C0BD15F3EEF7D6CC7F6671DECF8499%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D853fbab21c77fc0c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaAr_c7JwWpL7MYpUVSdgpSDCNbU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6994179282009493928?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6994179282009493928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6994179282009493928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6994179282009493928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6994179282009493928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3493863650965017829</id><published>2011-05-01T12:07:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T12:54:56.575-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wanna be'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='model'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The wanna-be model...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've seen these chicks.  The appropriate model height.  Crazy skinny.  Squared off, man-like, jawline.  Arm out cradling a purse with their noses up side-eying everyone's outfits behind their big, bug-like hater shades. Frequently rude. Inappropriately conceited &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(because many are just not cute)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Always thinking every guy who says hello to them is sweating them. Why? Because, they're a 'model' &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;*hair flip*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Let's break this look down, shall we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIgEpW88pdo/Tb2H-jdwzlI/AAAAAAAAAts/zGkB7FRmzvo/s400/sensationnel-goddess-remi-loose-body-weaving.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601783020260478546" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;The Body Wave Weave:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The wanna be model uniform almost ALWAYS includes a bra-strap length body wave weave.  The weave looks like it is straight out of the package: never combed, never properly separated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Typically jet black. It is always parted down the middle. Always. Often the wave of the weave starts just above the ear, leaving the top part of the hair flat to the scalp. Depending on how the girl takes care of the weave it can either be quite greasy looking or super dried out and starting to frizz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6wjDNqvBLgI/Tb2KBMX1SYI/AAAAAAAAAt0/oMjcozvYe1s/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601785264624454018" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;The Mid-Drift Shirt:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently the wanna-be model uniform this year includes a loose-fitting mid-drift showing shirt. The shirt can often be in the shark-bite style (shorter in the front, longer in the back) or 80's style (off the shoulder with the bra strap showing). Luckily this girl is 'naturally' skinny so you'll usually see no flab around her middle.  (Doesn't mean the belly is toned by any means). And sadly, at least in my opinion, the belly button often looks a bit weird. Not all the way an inny.  Not quite an outtie. Just weird looking. Sometimes, the wanna-be may forget to handle her um..happy trail. So there may be some whiskers showing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wot9lhzsVZ4/Tb2MJumSrdI/AAAAAAAAAt8/63cbECRl7OI/s400/0D426941.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601787610274115026" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;The Skinny Jean and the Peep Toe Platforms:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To complete this look, the wanna-be will almost always be sporting a pair of low-rise, skinny jeans and peep toe platforms.  Since she is a 'model' the shoes will usually be fabulous. Not necessarily appropriate for whatever it is she is doing or wherever she is going, but hot shoes none-the-less. Legs are of course ultra skinny but often bowed with the accompanying pigeon-toed stance. Often these jeans can be swapped out for a ultra small mini-skirt, but that is just for kicks. Fortunately for us non-models, the visible thong is no longer the thing to do, so we will not be seeing g-strings peeking through.  Just a whole lot of crack cause apparently it's cool to go commando these days...&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(yea, my eyes are rolling).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is not a good look for many reasons. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Number 1:&lt;/span&gt; The look is played.  Do something else. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Number 2:&lt;/span&gt; Many of our gender transitioning brothers adopt this as their go-to look.  In other words, you are often mistaken for a man. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Number 3:&lt;/span&gt; The rudeness and self-centeredness that often comes with this look. You are 'trying' to become a model.  In other words a wanna-be. So who are you? There is more to life than being cute. And unless you are being paid for your cuteness, you need to stop treating it like it's your occupation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3493863650965017829?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3493863650965017829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3493863650965017829&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3493863650965017829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3493863650965017829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/05/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oIgEpW88pdo/Tb2H-jdwzlI/AAAAAAAAAts/zGkB7FRmzvo/s72-c/sensationnel-goddess-remi-loose-body-weaving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4060371667504799898</id><published>2011-04-27T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T12:00:04.310-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ramblings'/><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;Too long to be Random Thoughts...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...there was a bug in my closet on a hanger and (since I'm scared to kill bugs that are at eye level) I decided to ignore it and hope it goes away.  Now that it has gone away I'm scared to discover where it ended up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I hate gnats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Artists should stop re-releasing albums with more tracks. Your loyal fans went out to help you achieve week 1 records and now we get only half an album?!? Stop that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every day I walk past a trunk full of clothes, two laundry baskets full of clean clothes, a hamper full of dirty clothes that need to be taken down to the washer and dryer full of more clean clothes, to stand in a closet full of clothes and say "I have nothing to wear".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why when I pass those Canadian geese on a sidewalk, I hold my head down and don't make eye contact like I'm passing a big dog. Those damn things are scary.  And like my height.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;...............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw two birds in an argument on the ground today.  I had to stop my car to see who would win. They looked like they were saying:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; "You feeling froggy sucka then jump"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You wanna start something with me?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yea I'm calling you out...start somethin"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Nah, dude I'm cool"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh now you're cool? Gettoutta here with that"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Losing bird finally flies off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4060371667504799898?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4060371667504799898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4060371667504799898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4060371667504799898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4060371667504799898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2400716289598457334</id><published>2011-04-26T12:25:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T12:25:00.832-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Sexed Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;Dick Dumb and P***y Punch-Drunk..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mkMAAWDm7Qs/TbG6GurzCPI/AAAAAAAAAtc/Uf4kysUr4d8/s400/dunce-cap-by-candie_n.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 400px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598460436571949298" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's just be honest here.  If you are smacking bellies with someone, attempting to smack bellies with someone or thinking (plotting) about smacking bellies with something, you are not in your right mind.  And unfortunately, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://topquotes.wordpress.com/2011/04/17/statistics-quote-by-author-unknown-2/"&gt;85%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of the major (or even sometimes minor) decisions you will make will be ill-advised.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why ill-advised? Because the thought making power is no longer in your head. It's in your heart (and other places).  And we all know that the heart has crazy persuasion techniques. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; (The other places just hold you at gun-point and make you do what they want)&lt;/span&gt;. Those two can take a sane person and make them crazy. Take a logical person and make them irrational. So you have to be aware that any decision you make in this state could seriously be biased.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think I'm off? Even those of you in a serious relationship have at some point or will at some point have to make a decision that could impact your relationship.  Often, you have, or will, turn down opportunities that are good for you in favor of what is perceived as good for both. Sometimes, the decision is so minor that it's no big deal.  Other times, it has been a major deal. Sometimes it works out, and other times it doesn't.  And if things didn't, or don't work out, you're now somewhere, often times, regretting your decisions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As hard as it may be at some point, your head and your heart are going to have to really have a serious conversation in which you're head has to make your heart listen. Though you'll never really be sure of what to do, you can do your best to be aware of what's driving your decision making.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until then, all you p***y whipped, dick dumb, relationship reckless, ding-dongs be careful with whom you share your thoughts with.  Some one may just burst your heart shaped bubble.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2400716289598457334?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2400716289598457334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2400716289598457334&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2400716289598457334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2400716289598457334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/sexed-simple.html' title='Sexed Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mkMAAWDm7Qs/TbG6GurzCPI/AAAAAAAAAtc/Uf4kysUr4d8/s72-c/dunce-cap-by-candie_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1627740545019838111</id><published>2011-04-25T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T23:09:40.330-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cosby show'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='presentation'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;We don't like you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XIjOaWgyPRA/TbHL4h9GQlI/AAAAAAAAAtk/aIZ5SycbzWY/s400/momentofsimple.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 248px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598479983845982802" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://youtu.be/QrRUXsDumrM"&gt;[Watch on YouTube]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1627740545019838111?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1627740545019838111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1627740545019838111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1627740545019838111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1627740545019838111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/moment-of-simple_25.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XIjOaWgyPRA/TbHL4h9GQlI/AAAAAAAAAtk/aIZ5SycbzWY/s72-c/momentofsimple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3346451281517103861</id><published>2011-04-24T14:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T16:40:15.667-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='naked'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Boo, where are your clothes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have never for the life of me understood why people, especially young women, feel the need to walk around damn near naked. And with the summer coming the amount of barely clad jail bait will reach epidemic numbers. I know it's hot.  I know what you are wearing maybe what the magazines call 'cute'.  But let me be the 15 and 1/2 person to tell you that it's not cute! I don't care if you have the body to wear it or not, I do not want to have to constantly see your goodies!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know it's been said that that ish is sexy.  But if you are constantly showing off your goods, what's there left to go get? Where's the chase? Where's the tease? Where's the allure? If he, her, them, and they can all see what you are working with, what incentive does a guy have to try and get it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what's up with all these parents letting their daughters walk around with their booties and girlies hanging out? So what if it passed the finger tip test? What you need to be checking is if it passes the bend over or sit tests.  There is still such a thing as age appropriate.  Don't be afraid to be a parent and tell her to put some clothes on!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While we're at it, moms PLEASE stop taking your pre-pubescent, post pubescent, not yet in college daughter to Victoria's Secret to get her underthings!  What does it matter if it's pretty? Who's going to see it? There is no reason for a 14 year old to have Vickie's lace thongs and teddies unless she's planing on get-getting it.  If she wants pretty bloomers take that child to Wal-Mart and get her a 5 pack of Hanes or Fruit of the Loom with flowers and stripes and call it a day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3346451281517103861?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3346451281517103861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3346451281517103861&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3346451281517103861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3346451281517103861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/not-good-look_24.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5971988975652472535</id><published>2011-04-23T12:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T12:00:03.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><title type='text'>Mean Muggin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;Why you look so angry ma?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3_PP7r8Zx4/Ta7cup6VkKI/AAAAAAAAAtU/wtOr0O_Dj74/s400/frown.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597654080950735010" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been said that often many black women are so hard to approach because they have a very stand-offish, or angry demeanor.  As a black woman with a very stand-offish or angry demeanor I find it hard to properly address this issue.  Primarily because, while I know that we can come off this way, I know it doesn't necessarily reflect how we are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any given point in the day I'll have someone ask me if I'm OK or why do I look so angry or who pissed you off today.  Usually I'm surprised by it because I am typically having a good day. I mean this is just my face.  What am I supposed to do? Walk around smiling like a cheshire cat all day? I can't help that my not frowning face looks angry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I do understand where the sentiment comes from.  In general we can come off as evil and unapproachable. We have natural, innate mannerisms &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"&gt;(head-rolls)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, looks &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"&gt;(eye-rolls)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, motions &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;(finger-snaps)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, that can be interpreted as angry and mean. So how do we fix that? We know we're fun and great people.  How do we show that side to the world? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think as black women we have to remember that we don't always have to be 'on'. We don't always have to be ready for something to pop off. We don't always have to be ready to prove ourselves. I know for me I'm always thinking about something other than what it is I'm currently doing and that can often affect how I appear. So we may just need to get out of our own minds.  Live in the moment and have fun with out worrying about how we are being perceived. Uncross those arms and cross those legs. Think of thoughts that make us smile more often. Truly be engaged with every conversation, every interaction with another, and every situation. I think if we consciously do that, then our general demeanor will change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or perhaps not.  Like I said.  It could be just our face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5971988975652472535?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5971988975652472535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5971988975652472535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5971988975652472535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5971988975652472535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/mean-muggin.html' title='Mean Muggin&apos;'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3_PP7r8Zx4/Ta7cup6VkKI/AAAAAAAAAtU/wtOr0O_Dj74/s72-c/frown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6135442224864902959</id><published>2011-04-22T12:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-24T13:46:45.138-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lnKHKp5Uy5M/TlU4_81to8I/AAAAAAAAAxA/z_XVhj40Ct4/s1600/acting_right_10.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lnKHKp5Uy5M/TlU4_81to8I/AAAAAAAAAxA/z_XVhj40Ct4/s400/acting_right_10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644480379293115330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Confidence is alluring.  Swagger is sexy.  But ego is not cute. There is a huge difference between being confident and being conceited; being self-assured and being big-headed. Everyone likes a little 'he's too cool'. But no one likes a jerk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a fine line to walk, but it must be walked well. If egos get to big then nothing can get done. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Look at our government right now).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; Egos block critique and leave you stunted in your personal development.  You'll never develop into who you could be with out being receptive to feedback; good or bad. Not only do egos stop progress from happening, it can ultimately lead to isolation.  I mean if you are the greatest then what do you need everyone else for? No one wants to hang out with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bottom line, everyone's ish stinks.  Including yours.  So check that ego! And for my artistic people, I'll leave you with this to ponder:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4nc_A7arltc/TaZ3FWcXiUI/AAAAAAAAAsw/yudGAMuQNDg/s400/other%252Cor%252Cabstract%252Cabstract%252Cadvice%252Cart%252Cart%252Cdirection%252Cbeige-1340b9cd5975b3f1e355f1505d8a10d2_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595290520862034242" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6135442224864902959?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6135442224864902959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6135442224864902959&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6135442224864902959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6135442224864902959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/acting-right_22.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lnKHKp5Uy5M/TlU4_81to8I/AAAAAAAAAxA/z_XVhj40Ct4/s72-c/acting_right_10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5124348803487731303</id><published>2011-04-21T13:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T13:31:00.093-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dateless'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='single'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cougar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Get While The Gettin's Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;More thoughts on settling...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the seemingly never ending quest to get out there and meet people, often I either get a) no attention at all or b) attention from all the wrong people. Truthfully, as annoying &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(disheartening)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as this is, it does make me wonder. Is this as good as it gets?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How long can you try and hold out for what you think you want before you just throw your hands up and take what you can get? What if what you want doesn't want you? What if what you want is so crazily unrealistic that you'll never find what you're really looking for? Do you just pick the best of the best of the gremlins or do you just resolve to live a life alone? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I simply refuse to believe that these creatures are my only option. So I am going to do like Jessie says and keep hope alive. Primarily because I can't realistically see myself spending the rest of my life with someone I just tolerate. I refuse to believe that this is as good as it gets. If my Mr. Right doesn't show, then so be it. I'll just move to Cali, lipo and botox it up, get myself a young non-english speaking boy toy and a few dogs... :D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5124348803487731303?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5124348803487731303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5124348803487731303&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5124348803487731303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5124348803487731303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/get-while-gettins-good.html' title='Get While The Gettin&apos;s Good'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2558568921997733932</id><published>2011-04-20T12:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T12:05:00.415-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='words'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qdn8pkl5oFI/TaZyj15-zvI/AAAAAAAAAso/En6n2bciZJc/s1600/thought.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qdn8pkl5oFI/TaZyj15-zvI/AAAAAAAAAso/En6n2bciZJc/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595285547145678578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2558568921997733932?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2558568921997733932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2558568921997733932&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2558568921997733932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2558568921997733932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/random-thought_20.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qdn8pkl5oFI/TaZyj15-zvI/AAAAAAAAAso/En6n2bciZJc/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-7612229845113804462</id><published>2011-04-19T13:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T13:00:02.953-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rebound'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Head's Up I'm Open</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Love on the rebound...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm always very apprehensive when a friend catches feelings for someone new when they are just coming out of a relationship. Sure I'm happy when they're happy, but unless you give yourself time to heal, how do you know you really like this new person?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are two caveats to look for when dating someone 'on the rebound':&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;1. You could be in like with the differences. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This person is probably giving you everything your ex never did. Saying things you ex would never say. Doing things your ex would never do. Ultimately leaving you in like with the differences and not in like with the person. One sure fire way I find out if this is the case is in the way you describe your new boo.  If every description of their good qualities come with a 'jo-jo never did that'.....red flag. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;And don't try and clean up how you talk about your new hottie now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; Really ask yourself: What do you like about this person? Why? If your reason why has anything to do with your ex, be careful.  This may not truly be the relationship for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;2. You're getting exactly what you used to get.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another reason many people jump immediately into another relationship after one ends is because they're trying to fill that hole. You could be looking for someone to take the place of your ex. That would lead you to ultimately date some one just like them.  And is that what you really want? What's to say that things wouldn't eventually end up where they are now with this new one? How do you keep yourself from repeating the cycle?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one can tell you how long you should wait after a break-up before you start dating again. Just like no one can honestly say that relationships started on a rebound won't work either. However it is important to be sure this new person in your life is there for the right reasons. Take time to look inward and see how you contributed to the failure of your past relationships so you can grow. And as always make sure that you close the door on one chapter in your life before you open a new one.  Leaving that door open only lets in flies.  And we all know how annoying flies can be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-7612229845113804462?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/7612229845113804462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=7612229845113804462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7612229845113804462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7612229845113804462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/heads-up-im-open.html' title='Head&apos;s Up I&apos;m Open'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3477368738674490141</id><published>2011-04-18T13:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T13:00:06.549-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='square one'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pbs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rappin judge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Test your PBS memories....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qopIOUYZ7cE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3477368738674490141?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3477368738674490141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3477368738674490141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3477368738674490141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3477368738674490141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/moment-of-simple_18.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/qopIOUYZ7cE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6310007712731526408</id><published>2011-04-17T14:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T14:00:02.086-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='question'/><title type='text'>What Is Quality?</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Is good really good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The question of the day on &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://formspring.me/confessdbgirl"&gt;formspring&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was "What qualities do you look for when you're dating someone?" While I have yet to answer that question it did start to make me think.  As I was in the process of rattling off my mental list like Fräulein Maria in the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://movieclips.com/sLbjZ-the-sound-of-music-movie-my-favorite-things/"&gt;Sound of Music&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the word 'qualities' kept ringing in my head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The word '&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/quality"&gt;qualities&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;' sounds heavy. Much more than characteristics; far above attributes. Perhaps qualities are those &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(as E-Harmony puts it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; core values.  So often when envisioning the perfect mate we are stuck on the personality traits, the looks, the actions, the career, the status, and forget to think about what values and qualities a person possesses. We focus so much on what they can do for us and who they are that we forget to really look at &lt;i&gt;who..they..are&lt;/i&gt;. Ultimately a person can have every character trait and attribute you are looking for but if your core values don't match up, there could be trouble in paradise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm not going to sit here and tell you these are qualities and these are not.  That's up to you to decide. But before you get back out there looking for your potential match, take a moment to really reflect on that word 'qualities' and what it is you really should be looking for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I'm re-evaluating my list....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6310007712731526408?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6310007712731526408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6310007712731526408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6310007712731526408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6310007712731526408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/what-is-quality.html' title='What Is Quality?'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3319210036287504944</id><published>2011-04-16T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T15:39:35.777-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='problems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>The Choice Is Yours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"&gt;You can get with this....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ladies and gentleman, can we please stop the 'men ain't/women ain't ish' conversations? We all know that both sexes are flawed. They have issues. They piss us off constantly. However, we all know that they do make things a lot more fun and way more interesting. *wink, wink*. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean if you got with one or two ding-dongs then yea, you can blame them.  But ALL? Seriously ALL??? You need some help.  Therapy. A priestess to ward off spirits. Something. Truthfully, if all....ALL...the men or women you mess with are ***ked up, then that says more about you than it does about them.  What is it about you that's drawing you to these messed up people? What are you doing to contribute to the problem? It might be time to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;a href="http://andlea.blogspot.com/2010/03/check-your-self.html"&gt;check yourself&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Ponder that one......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3319210036287504944?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3319210036287504944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3319210036287504944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3319210036287504944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3319210036287504944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/choice-is-yours.html' title='The Choice Is Yours'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3863159626403951403</id><published>2011-04-15T12:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T14:53:02.198-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>The Boomerang Boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Here they come again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xqv8uuFBc3I/Tas2UlMXvnI/AAAAAAAAAtE/vH2mU7HofpM/s400/lovetext2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596626689147256434" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of us at some point have gotten that infamous IM/text message/phone call from an ex with them saying they miss you, they want to see you, they want to get-get it with you, etc. You may or may not be in a relationship but more often that not the ex contacting you actually is in a 'relationship' of sorts. But yet here they are...hollering at you. It's flattering, right? I mean why else would they contact you when they're currently dating someone else. I mean &lt;i&gt;girllll&lt;/i&gt; (or &lt;i&gt;boooyyyyy&lt;/i&gt;) they still want you! Right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um....no. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many exes contact you for one of four reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;1. They are trying to see if they still got you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They'll tell you that this girl (or guy) they're with doesn't do what you did.  They treat them bad....rah..rah...rah....  In other words they're not you. And of course you were the greatest. I mean that's why you're relationship was sooooo wonderful before.....um, pause, this is the EX! Remember that. Doesn't matter what they say, you (or they) ended that relationship for a reason. DON'T BELIEVE THE HYPE! They're just testing their player skills out, see if they can still swing you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;2. They want to see if you are still single/available.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get it twisted, it's not about you. Sometimes they want to see if you are willing to still associate with them though things are no longer what they used to be (after they've done  you dirty). They want to see if you are still single after the breakup because if you are, could this mean you are so devastated by the split that you have't been able to find anyone else. If you're dating someone else, they want to see if they can take you from this new one. Assert their dominance over the new cat in your life.&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; 'It can't be better than what we had. They can't be better than me.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; It's all for their egos. They want to know if they still mean something to you. Many times this is a way for them to gauge where they stand in your life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;3. A last hurrah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For many women, the ex men in their lives can contact you when things are going to that next level in their current relationship. They are looking to see if they should continue on with this one or go back to what he had before. Is there something else still out there? Double-checking their decisions. Sometimes, they are looking for one last hurrah before they take that leap into marriage. I haven't seen this happen with women much but it can apply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;4. The back-up plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The back-up plan could be applied to both sexes.  Many times, that ex will also contact you when their current relationship is crumbling. Making sure they'll have someone to lay their heads on when this relationship bottoms out. This way they don't have to be alone and can make you think that they left the current one for you. When in actuality you were just their parachute. Trust and believe once both feet hit that ground securely they will be off and running once again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Regardless of the reason, any ex that contacts you for something other than a friendly hello WHILE they are dating someone else is up to no good. Bounce them on back to their current boo-boo and go on about your business. Them playing around will get you caught up in a whole bunch of foolishness. If they were truly serious about trying to get you back, they wouldn't be wasting their time with someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3863159626403951403?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3863159626403951403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3863159626403951403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3863159626403951403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3863159626403951403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/boomerang-boo.html' title='The Boomerang Boo'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xqv8uuFBc3I/Tas2UlMXvnI/AAAAAAAAAtE/vH2mU7HofpM/s72-c/lovetext2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-635299010489089544</id><published>2011-04-14T12:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T12:05:00.473-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Breaking Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;When enough is enough...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all know that at some point, someone in your life (friends, family, coworkers, etc) will do something that is just not a good idea. Make a decision that is not in their best interest. Hang out with someone that is up to no good. And you, as the good friend, are supposed to be there for them. Lend them an ear if need be. Give good, honest, sound advice when asked. That's what a good friend is supposed to do right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean if you see some in the middle of traffic and an 18 wheeler is about to hit him, you'd yell out, right? That's your duty as a kind and just human being. However sometimes, no matter what you tell a person, or what factors you give them to consider, they're still going to walk out in front of that mac truck. Some of your friends still have the general motors logo impression on their hip from the last time they got hit by that same truck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you keep walking your silly self into traffic, how many times do you really expect your friends to keep feeding you green jello when they visit your broken self in the hospital? How many times can they strain their back dragging you to safety? How many times do you expect your friends to either a) sit idly by while you be a jackass or b) constantly try to help you out and be ignored?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As a friend what do you do? Constantly give advice only to always be ignored? Just be an ear to listen when you know what you're hearing is foolishness? Wait until ish hits the fan and be there to help clean up when asked? What do you do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At some point your friend will get tired of your foolishness. They'll get tired of being dragged into traffic with you. Tired of having to pick up the pieces. Tired of being ignored. They'll realize that you are not the person they need to spend an good amount of time with. And you will be the one out there to fix it yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone has their limits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-635299010489089544?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/635299010489089544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=635299010489089544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/635299010489089544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/635299010489089544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/breaking-point_14.html' title='Breaking Point'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2488788395087629357</id><published>2011-04-13T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T11:50:01.082-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HAlb89oKhAg/TaJsoQoaTCI/AAAAAAAAAsg/UXZBICXArZw/s1600/thought.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HAlb89oKhAg/TaJsoQoaTCI/AAAAAAAAAsg/UXZBICXArZw/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594153126062607394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2488788395087629357?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2488788395087629357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2488788395087629357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2488788395087629357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2488788395087629357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HAlb89oKhAg/TaJsoQoaTCI/AAAAAAAAAsg/UXZBICXArZw/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5285144910078777032</id><published>2011-04-12T10:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T09:05:18.181-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>You Are or You're Not</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;There is no in-between...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So while this is still kinda fresh on my mind, I should just go ahead and say that you either are in a committed, exclusive relationship or you're not.  There is no in-between.  No kinda. No we're figuring it out. None of this 'talking' bull. All of those are just ways to say that you are not in an committed, exclusive relationship.  PERIOD.  I don't care what you say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, if you are in fact floating around in this weird gray area of the relationship/dating game you really have to really focus and remember that you are not his girl/her man.  What that means is, that other person (and you remember) can do whatever it is you want to do.  Talk to who you want to talk to.  Kick it with whoever you so choose. That also means that you cannot impose committed, exclusive relationship rules on the other person.  Because you are not in a committed, exclusive relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seems simple right? Wrong.  Why? Because of these pesky little things called feelings. These things make you forget that you are not exclusive with this other person. They get you crazy attached and starting to envision the 'finish line'. Imagining what it would be if you were exclusive. Pretending to introduce him to your family as your boyfriend. Showing your girl off to your boys. And really, many people start treating the other person as their girlfriend or boyfriend before anything real is ever established - encouraging the fantasy and if things ultimately don't work out, breaking hearts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what if you guys hang out every day, talk every night, date, get busy, share a tooth brush, WHATEVER.  All of that doesn't matter.  Hopefully, the person you are crushing on cares about you enough to not do anything to hurt you or that could potentially ruin their chances of becoming exclusive with you. But until the two of you decide, discuss (or go about it in a round about way-however you have to do it) that you two are only going to date each other then you have to let them do them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5285144910078777032?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5285144910078777032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5285144910078777032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5285144910078777032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5285144910078777032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/you-are-or-youre-not.html' title='You Are or You&apos;re Not'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1679304695995889721</id><published>2011-04-11T11:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T11:22:01.022-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hip-hop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brown sugar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1j4M5q-6414" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1679304695995889721?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1679304695995889721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1679304695995889721&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1679304695995889721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1679304695995889721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1j4M5q-6414/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5992407641545157364</id><published>2011-04-09T11:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T12:02:43.692-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='education'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Customization to Your Detriment</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;At some point you can't have it your way...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After watching a commercial for an online k-12 education program that is part of the public school educational system, I had to pause for a second.  So.............................now your second grader can learn to color online? WTF?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We already have parents that don't want to discipline their kids because it will 'stifle their expression and creativity'. We have kids who don't know or don't want to abide by any rules or order set by ANYONE because they don't have to do anything their parents tell them to at home. We get adults who think the world runs like a Burger King drive through and they can have any and everything their way.  Now you're going to start even earlier with the who 'do what you want, when you want to' mentality??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At some point in your life you will have to do something you don't want to do, in a time frame you don't want to do it in, on a day you could care less to do it on. It's called a JOB. And if you don't start making these stupid kids do something other than live fast and die hard it's going to be your old ass at a desk, in a factory, making this world go around.  Why? Because your ignorant, selfish seed doesn't care that you're 80 year old back can't overhaul an engine in the repair shop anymore.  They just want their &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://models.audiusa.com/r8"&gt;R8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (that you gave them) running and ready to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the fact that technology has given me the ability to watch live NCAA basketball on my cell phone, and set my security alarm from the airport.  I even love the fact that as an adult, you can find a school online and learn what you need with out it interfering with your current career.  But to allow your children to stay in the house, in front of a computer for 8 hours or more a day, study when they feel like it, not have to deal with adults outside of the family, not have to deal with children of all cultures, backgrounds, personalities, is just insane.  What are we teaching them? How will they grow to be functioning adults?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean you can say that it'll be the parents responsibility but really.......like that's happening. There is a good percentage of stupid parents, bringing up stupid kids and blaming everyone else for their inadequacies. I mean look around your classroom, your neighborhood, your city at these kids.  One of them will be your doctor.  One will be your future president.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That scare you enough to do better?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5992407641545157364?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5992407641545157364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5992407641545157364&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5992407641545157364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5992407641545157364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/customization-to-your-detriment.html' title='Customization to Your Detriment'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-528484133729560579</id><published>2011-04-08T10:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T10:52:01.301-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drop-bye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The 'drop-bye'....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are all kinds of surprises.  Surprise parties.  Surprise gifts.  Surprise engagements. And surprises can be great.  However, I do not believe that dropping by someone's place is a great surprise. I don't care how excited and jovial you are when I open the door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is not appropriate for you to just show up, unannounced at someone's house. It's just rude. People have lives.  Places to go.  Things to do.  Even on their days off, they may not be as available as you would think.  Just because a person isn't doing anything, doesn't mean they want to spend that day with you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you do just randomly drop by and the person actually decides to entertain you and your inconsiderate self, you can not impose any expectations on that visit.  You can't expect them to be ready to roll out with you. You can't expect them to entertain you. You can't expect them to feed you. You can't expect them to drop what they are doing to now sit and be with you. You should take whatever attitude or response you get and be happy with it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even if you roll up on something TOTALL INAPPROPRIATE. It's your fault. Remember, you weren't supposed to be there in the first place.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-528484133729560579?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/528484133729560579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=528484133729560579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/528484133729560579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/528484133729560579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2446711972392994576</id><published>2011-04-07T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T12:00:07.455-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Yo.....Can I Holler Atchu For A Sec?</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Why I don't approach or chase....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I got a question a while back: Why don't women approach the men? Well, my answer is simple: Cause. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are plenty of women out there chasing down guys. Some are quality. Some are scary. If you want that in your life, you be that docile man waiting on your princess charming to come take you away on her white horse... &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*pats the pitiful man's shoulder*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it should be the man's responsibility to approach the woman he's interested in. I mean all these magazine and movies got these girls stressing, dressing, stretching, practicing, to be that 'perfect' woman for you.  The least you could do is show her you appreciate it. So go holler. That's what you're made to do. Now don't get me wrong, I understand that it's hard to go up to these girls and (sometimes) just get shot down over and over.  It's not a easy thing to do for many of you. I'm sure you think girls have it easy to wait on the guy to come talk to them.  But how easy it is if you're never approached? Think about that chic. Always out, never approached. Always cute, never hollered at. Always smiling, always alone. You still think it's easy to just sit there? Never being asked hurts worse than always being told no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the sake of argument, let's play it out. A woman approaches you and whispers:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;Ay, yo cutie. I couldn't help but to notice you standing over here all fine and what not. &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;*looks you up and down*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Yo, where ya girl at? O, you ain't got no girl? How someone that looks like you ain't got no girl? &lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;*stares at your 'lil man'*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Oh...you dunno, huh? Well, I was wondering...&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;*sniff*sniff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;...can I call you sometime?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's sexy? That's what you want?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know. That's just a wrong way of doing it. And you fellas only want to feel attractive and appreciated like the girls do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm going to preface what I think with a small disclaimer.  I know it's not 100% right. I know that there are always exceptions.  But this is why I don't approach men, old fashioned or not.  For me, if I have to approach I'm already starting to take a lead role.  And once I have that lead role you are not going to get it back.  The last thing I want in a potential hook-up, man or whatever is to feel like he's a punk in any way. And if you let me run things, then I run you, and you are now my bia. And that's not what I want. Not to say that you waiting on a girl to approach is a punk move, but..... no...wait... that's what I'm saying.  Go holler at that girl! If I'll be expected to wash your drawers and push out your big headed baby the least you can do is ask me for my number. Man up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2446711972392994576?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2446711972392994576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2446711972392994576&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2446711972392994576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2446711972392994576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/yocan-i-holler-atchu-for-sec.html' title='Yo.....Can I Holler Atchu For A Sec?'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-7424974394273896885</id><published>2011-04-06T20:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T21:26:00.251-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Going to work at work...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Confused by the subtitle?  Not a &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OKNDb1ONL4"&gt;Big Daddy Kane&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; aficionado? Here I'll explain it to you....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we grow older, the places and time we have to go looking for a potential mate start to dwindle. Thus many people begin to search for love at their place of business. While frowned upon by many institutions, the act of work place dating still happens quite regularly. I mean you spend at minimum 8 hours a day at that place, 40 hours a week.  You get close to those you work with. Learn their habits, their favorite foods, their interests which is just a breeding ground for an infestation of affection. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And why not? With so many people out their searching for their 'true love' (first, second or third true love), eliminating a potential match based on workplace guidelines seems a bit unfair. After all, 17% of married people meet a work, which is the same percentage of people who meet through mutual friends. Seems like a good idea right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well pump your breaks there skippy. There is a huge caveat to dating someone in your work place.  And that is your getting you're getting your honey where you're making your money which can make for a sticky situation. Cause if you dick that other person over you have to see that person ev-er-ry day. If things go sour they could get really bad. That person no longer has to keep your closed door business behind closed doors. Then you'll have other men in the work place looking at you like a freak and other women rolling their eyes and sucking their teeth at you. I mean really how long can you avoid them. And imagine if you dated more than one person....yikes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately, it's up to you and your place of business to decide what is appropriate. I personally recommend that if you do it, you have to be mature about it. Otherwise, leave it be. There are only so many hours you can spend in the bathroom and under your desk avoiding your ex (or exes). Eventually it'll start to interfere with your job and well all know that playing with your ability to get that money is just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-7424974394273896885?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/7424974394273896885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=7424974394273896885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7424974394273896885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7424974394273896885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/04/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6094760992760038302</id><published>2011-03-07T21:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T21:58:39.042-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='katt williams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gas prices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>This morning I made the mistake of filling up my tank.  I know...I knew better, but  curiosity got the best of me.  When the pump stopped it read $61 and I replied S#!T! (probably a little too loud).  Anyway.  Until I can sit down and write some more meaningful stuff, today's moment of simple is dedicated to my thoughts while filling up at the gas station.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HX5F88hNr2A" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6094760992760038302?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6094760992760038302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6094760992760038302&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6094760992760038302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6094760992760038302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/03/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/HX5F88hNr2A/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1073344297411842923</id><published>2011-02-21T13:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T13:21:00.526-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kitty kitteh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scatman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E3T3rSYrRAc" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1073344297411842923?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1073344297411842923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1073344297411842923&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1073344297411842923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1073344297411842923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/moment-of-simple_21.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/E3T3rSYrRAc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3721606203116023104</id><published>2011-02-14T18:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T19:12:05.043-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentine&apos;s day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food for thought'/><title type='text'>It's Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;...and?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll it's another year and another Valentine's Day. What makes this day so special? I just don't see what the big deal is. And don't get me wrong.  I'm not approaching this from a hater standpoint.  I just honestly don't...get....what the big deal is.  I mean people get in fights and break up over what is or is not done on this day and I just really don't see why it's so serious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's interesting how people who love this day turn their noses up at those who could care less about this day. But those are the same people who look at you blankly when you ask them what's so special about Valentine's Day. Let's just be honest, most of you guys will accept gas station roses on this day and gush about how great he is, but if he showed up on your door on a Wednesday with that same brown rose you'd be singing a different story. Give me a break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unless this day is an important day for your relationship (outside of it just being Valentine's Day), there is no reason for this day to be any more special than the next.  Your significant other should be making you feel like you're their Valentine almost every day.  You should be doing things every other day of the year to let the one you love know you think they're special. Like one of my students said, if you gotta go all out on Valentine's Day and you're not doing anything any of the other days, then you're doing something wrong &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(a very rough paraphrase)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3721606203116023104?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3721606203116023104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3721606203116023104&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3721606203116023104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3721606203116023104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/its-valentines-day.html' title='It&apos;s Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3410814976686064285</id><published>2011-02-13T11:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T11:00:00.826-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='public grooming'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Public primping...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why on earth do people feel the need to step out of their cars and begin to brush their hair, and put on make-up? I'm not talking about a quick run through of the hair with their fingers or a touch up of the lip gloss before walking into work.  I'm talking about the brothers with the brown natural bristle brushes cupped in their hands brushing the fade foreword and the ladies pulling out entire makeup bags, putting them on the top of the car and going to town on their day look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back when I was younger, my mother would look at me sideways if I put Chapstick on in public. I'd get told off if I did it at the table or while talking to another person. She'd have a old-southern-woman-church-faint if she witnessed what I see on a daily basis. Little combs out to get the food out of your beards, walking through traffic putting on mascara, flipping hair upside down - comb*comb* - right side up -comb*comb - to the left- comb*comb - to the right - comb*comb - now ponytail. Changing clothes in the parking lot, standing up outside of the car, all doors open, flesh out for the world to see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do you all not have any reflective surfaces in your possession other than your car?  No mirrors at home? No TV to look at your reflection in? No shiny keychains? No windows? No round doorknobs? No clean dishes? No metal faucets? Nothing reflective to help you put yourself together before you enter the outside world?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have to freshen up, use the restroom.  That's part of what it's there for.  You can also touch yourself up at your desk.  Just not out everywhere for everyone to see. It's not cute and it's most definitely not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3410814976686064285?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3410814976686064285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3410814976686064285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3410814976686064285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3410814976686064285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/not-good-look_13.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5106987230000226832</id><published>2011-02-11T17:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T17:50:48.079-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etiquette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Public cell phone use etiquette.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to write about this primarily because I, myself today was caught off guard by a phone call and forgot the proper etiquette.  &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And because there was a very loud student outside of my classroom having a loud conversation for the whole hall to hear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;  So here we go....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;1.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I personally do not believe that there is a reason for you to be on the phone, having a private (or not private) conversation in front of someone else. So if you take the phone call, step away as much as you can.  Go outside, to another room, to a hallway, or just a few feet away from the people you are with.  This way the conversation can go on with out distraction and you keep your private business private. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-cell-phone-etiquette.htm"&gt;Wisegeek.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; says that you should observe the 10-foot proximity rule, meaning you should be at least 10 feet away from the next person when you are having a conversation.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt; If you absolutely have to take a phone call in a pubic place, please use your inside voice.  And don't tell your life story.  Why should I know all of your personal business and why should the person(s) you are with have to wait several minutes for you to get off the phone? Hit the high points and keep it moving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; If it's quiet: Vibrate.  If it's not quite and you are around other people and your ringtone would make a grown man blush: Vibrate.  Even if your ringtone is not bad, if you are in a public setting you should put it on vibrate.  Let's just be honest.  How many people still use the stock ringtones that came with the phone? Ringtones are representative of their owners personality. And sometimes that's just entirely too much information.  Imagine sitting in a meeting with your boss and you hear Beyonce singing &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVBsypHzF3U"&gt;"The way you blowin up my phone won't make me move no fast-ah"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Not a bad ringtone, but now everyone in the meeting has a few questions &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(behind your back)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; about your personal life.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; And most of all, don't be rude.  Don't answer the phone when you are in the middle of a date, conversation with another person, in the movies, in the classroom, etc. That's just tacky. Ultimately, if we are all polite-minded and think of how what we are doing impacts others we will be able to easily use our phones without making people want to hit us with a brick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5106987230000226832?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5106987230000226832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5106987230000226832&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5106987230000226832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5106987230000226832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3642884799007002534</id><published>2011-02-10T12:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T12:12:00.231-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kinky'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nappy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural'/><title type='text'>You Are Not Nappy</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;and claiming kinky is not cute...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gotta say.  I can't stand it when natural girls, sites, hair care products, etc. refer to their hair texture as kinky, nappy, coarse, etc.  I didn't like to hear girls refer to their tresses that way when I was relaxed and I like it even less now that I'm natural.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nappy and kinky were never words that I heard as terms of endearment growing up. Even still today they can be hurtful if said in the wrong context.  I am amazed to see all of these sisters that claim to love who they are and love themselves refer to their hair in terms that were once used to make us feel ashamed or self-concious about our natural texture. Proud for someone to consider them nappy.  OK with ignorant beauticians who dismiss their hair as coarse (when natural hair is often more delicate than chemically treated hair). I just don't get it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean..picture it...two dudes at the bar having a conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3366FF;"&gt;"Check out that nappy headed chic at the end of the bar.....she is sooo sexy." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's flattering??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it's because I've never understood why Black people feel the need to try and make words that were used to belittle us "our own". As if that removes any of the sting or the real meaning behind it when it's said out of our own personal guidelines. You can say I'm being overly sensitive all you want.  I just think our beliefs of taking a word and 'transforming' it's meaning is a bunch of BS. I mean really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3642884799007002534?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3642884799007002534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3642884799007002534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3642884799007002534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3642884799007002534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/you-are-not-nappy.html' title='You Are Not Nappy'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8084935786924069032</id><published>2011-02-09T12:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T12:58:00.111-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pajamas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TVItU-KbiMI/AAAAAAAAAsY/X9LEGJO7o10/s1600/thought.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TVItU-KbiMI/AAAAAAAAAsY/X9LEGJO7o10/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571565527318104258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;[source: http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/8lC71k/timothybuckwalter.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341cdd0b53ef01310fcb547c970c-450wi]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8084935786924069032?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8084935786924069032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8084935786924069032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8084935786924069032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8084935786924069032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/random-thought_09.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TVItU-KbiMI/AAAAAAAAAsY/X9LEGJO7o10/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-426617811083693239</id><published>2011-02-07T11:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T11:10:01.060-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='darkwing duck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;"Let's Get Dangerous..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/375ENQbru8s" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-426617811083693239?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/426617811083693239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=426617811083693239&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/426617811083693239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/426617811083693239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/moment-of-simple.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/375ENQbru8s/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3042676589911778301</id><published>2011-02-06T12:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T12:19:06.870-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ugg boots'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sweat pants'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Uggs and sweats...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just because I saw entirely too much of it yesterday when I was driving around the city I have to make Ugg boots with sweat pants my topic of today.  And I must say it's not just the Uggs with sweat pants.  It's the entire look that is just absolutely unacceptable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me describe it for you from the bottom up.  Uggs &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;(choose your color)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, sweat pants&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;(an off color from the uggs - often accompanied by PINK written across the butt---tucked into the boots)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, some type of mystery shirt hidden under a pull over fleece or windbreaker type zip up jacket &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;(also an off color)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, hair in a high pony tail with some type of head band.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;JUST STOP IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It looks terrible! And the simple fact that soooo many people do this look in the EXACT---SAME---WAY is even worse.  I saw about 3-4 of them grouped out together all rocking this fashion horror standing on the curb outside of an electronics store. There are so many other ways to rock the 'I just jumped out of bed and put anything on look' or announce to the world that 'I am a college student'.  This needs to quickly cycle itself out.  Because the Uggs with sweat pants ensemble is just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3042676589911778301?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3042676589911778301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3042676589911778301&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3042676589911778301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3042676589911778301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1047066569024670294</id><published>2011-02-03T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T11:30:03.173-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Let's Get Married</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;'We ain't gettin' no younger, we might as well do it...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At some point in your adult life your single friends just start dropping like flies. (Typically around the age of 25 or so). It like watching dominos fall.  It all starts with one. And soon you'll be blocking at least 2-3 months out of your year for weddings.  Only to be blocking another 2-3 months for baby showers about 2 years later. Good for them. They found love. Their soul mate. The person they're going to spend the rest of their lives with. Right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some people approach marriage like that line at the top of my post from that oh-so-wonderful &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuKDg5xncPY"&gt;Jagged Edge diddy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; (The one people love to play at weddings but if they really listened to that song -remix or original- there is NOTHING sweet or marriage worthy about that song but the melody. But I digress)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. People sometimes approach marriage like a goal to reach. A task to be handled.  A check box to mark off. It becomes less of a union of hearts, minds, spirits &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(money)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and more about just being something to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Inner dialogue: I'm 'at that age'.  He's cool/she's cool.  She'll be a good mother to my kids.  He'll be a good father to my children. And even if they get all old and busted and evil I'll be too old to even care cause I'll be old and busted and deaf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even when marriage was less about love and more of an arrangement or a joining of two like minded people with similar goals and aspirations (something like a corporate merger and less like what we think of love today) there was still a meeting of the minds. Similarities. Common interests. Some of ya'll getting married don't even really like your future spouse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ultimately no one wants to spend their life alone.  However I think marriage should be less about 'I'm at that age' and more about 'this person is right for me'. Sadly I feel like I see/hear a lot of the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mF8IaExPv7s"&gt;"I done, done it all"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and less of the right for me part.  Maybe I'm just being to much of a skeptic. I guess I just want people who are at that point, want to some day get to that point or really are thinking they're ready to be married to not feel like it's an obligation, a mile-marker or a final destination&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; (regardless of what your mother might say)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. If it happens then wonderful. If it doesn't then find a way to truly be ok with that. Just.....I guess....be careful out there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1047066569024670294?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1047066569024670294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1047066569024670294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1047066569024670294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1047066569024670294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/lets-get-married.html' title='Let&apos;s Get Married'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-7552151758462544070</id><published>2011-02-02T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T11:50:00.425-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TUD6EWvbyCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/V1TeXq-QInw/s1600/thought.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TUD6EWvbyCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/V1TeXq-QInw/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566724092160886818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-7552151758462544070?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/7552151758462544070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=7552151758462544070&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7552151758462544070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/7552151758462544070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/random-thought.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TUD6EWvbyCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/V1TeXq-QInw/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3587751554867265869</id><published>2011-02-01T12:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T12:30:01.510-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Chicken or the Egg</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Exploring the cycle...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Often, I find myself looking at people and their behavior. I started wondering about the cause of some of the overwhelming misunderstandings, triffling behavior and various other problems many people seem to experience when dealing with their partners.  I often wonder about the cycle. Are men messed up because women are messed up? Or are women messed up because men are messed up?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a hard one.  Because for every man that's out there doing wrong, there is a woman in his past that has probably done him wrong &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(or allowed him to do wrong).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; And that woman was probably done wrong by a man in her life and it just keeps repeating. The blame could even be placed on the lack of father figures in many of the homes.  Or you could blame the mother for either keeping kids from their father or bring random men around their kids.  It's all cyclical and finding a start to the problem will probably never happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, after much contemplation, I have decided that the person who is responsible for how a man treats a woman is that woman.  A woman decides what she will and will not put up with. A woman decides what she does and does not expect out of her man.  A woman ultimately sets the standard for how she wants to be treated. If the woman before you had no standards, you can rest assured that unless you set standards for your man, he won't have them nor will he really know how to respect them. That doesn't mean he can't or won't respect or be able to learn how treat you.  You just have to establish the standards and maintain them. So while we many not know how the cycle got started, the responsibility of ending that cycle ultimately lies with a woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong. I fully believe that only a man can teach a boy how to be a man.  But only a woman can teach that man how to treat a woman.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3587751554867265869?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3587751554867265869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3587751554867265869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3587751554867265869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3587751554867265869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/02/chicken-or-egg.html' title='Chicken or the Egg'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4595503267717357147</id><published>2011-01-31T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T11:00:00.119-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blue tooth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boondocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;"There's a name for people who talk to themselves... they call them homeless"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hVsLzTKArkM" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4595503267717357147?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4595503267717357147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4595503267717357147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4595503267717357147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4595503267717357147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/moment-of-simple_31.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/hVsLzTKArkM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-6403259732022913459</id><published>2011-01-30T13:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T13:00:05.228-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Man giggles...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you guys should know by now that I'm not a fan of men that display too many female characteristics &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(not the superficial stuff like man-scaping...but more like the cattiness, the bitterness, the whining, the unexplainable, highly unnecessary emotional outbursts coupled with excessive crying).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; But another thing that is just tragic is man giggles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First and foremost we all know that anytime you have a gaggle of guys clustered together cackling away, there is a 95-98% chance that the source of the hilarity is highly inappropriate. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(We know how you guys like to yuck it up to fart jokes and nut punches - remember all those men laughing as they taped their boys reaction to watching 2 girls, 1 cup - yea...**shudder**).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; So the turn off factor is there a bit already.  You just cannot add to your 'not-smashable rating' by sounding like 13 year old girls.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Man laughter is great.  &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(A lot of men laughing is a bit suspect).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; But man giggles... like literal giggles... is not cute.  You can laugh loud, under your breath, chuckle, laugh normally, ki-ki-ki in a corner somewhere, that's fine.  But it should not sound like I'm listening to a bunch of tween-age girls looking through Cosmo Girl Magazine squealing over Orlando Bloom or something. I mean really, it's just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-6403259732022913459?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/6403259732022913459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=6403259732022913459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6403259732022913459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/6403259732022913459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/not-good-look_30.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-8444517312061555906</id><published>2011-01-29T23:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T23:18:00.200-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><title type='text'>What Happens at 4am?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Calm down, it's not that kind of party...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, I actually do create some things.  I read something around 1am last night or so that got me to try and create these on the fly.  Thought I'd break up the ranting &amp;amp; bashing, with some randomness. The task was to create a minimalist - esque - style poster for a movie, book, etc. I wasn't sleepy so I tried it out. Gotta try and get the creative spark back somehow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="border:1px solid black; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 371px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.andlea.com/hosted%20images/usual.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="border:1px solid black; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 371px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.andlea.com/hosted%20images/lemony.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img style="border:1px solid black; display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 371px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.andlea.com/hosted%20images/dogs.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now back to your regularly scheduled program.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-8444517312061555906?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/8444517312061555906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=8444517312061555906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8444517312061555906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/8444517312061555906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/what-happens-at-4am.html' title='What Happens at 4am?'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4593714445340548639</id><published>2011-01-28T10:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T10:00:14.745-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='etiquette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acting right'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='door'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>Acting Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Door etiquette....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While this discussion of door etiquette is going to primarily directed at the men, I will say a few words to the women.  If you want a man to be courteous to you, you need to be courteous back.  I've talked with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://professorlocs.typepad.com/professor-locs/"&gt;Professor Locs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; about this subject from time to time and he will be quick to let you know that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://professorlocs.typepad.com/professor-locs/2010/08/thats-not-lady-like.html"&gt;'this is not the Ritz and he is not a bellhop'&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  Be a gracious receiver of this and other courtesies, with appropriate thank you's following polite gestures. You can't expect a man to treat you as a gentleman should if you will not at least attempt to behave as lady should. Remember, he doesn't have to do these things for you - it's not like it's a requirement. And while this may seem a bit out-dated, there is something to be said for a man who observes some of these often of forgotten displays of politeness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;SO GENTLEMEN:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; If you are entering a room, or building at the same time or preceding a woman or group of women, it would be very polite of you to hold the door for her (them).  If the door opens inward, step to the side (as to not block the entry) to allow for the woman (women) to pass by easily.  If the door opens outward, do the same.&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt; (And it helps if you don't look pissed about it too.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; When the woman is responding to your politeness by saying 'thank you' you can at least respond. 'Your welcome', 'Sure', 'No problem'....something....anything is better than a blank, lifeless stare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are walking with a mixed group and one of the guys in the group decides to hold the door, men should let all of the women in the party enter first.  They can then decide how the rest of the party should proceed to enter. Either with a 'go ahead, I got it' or whatever floats your boat. I personally believe that the individual who was so nice to hold the door for the ladies, should enter next, with the rest of the men in the party following after. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(But that's just me.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF99FF;"&gt;If the person you are with (be it your home girl or your girl-girl) asks you not to hold the door for her then respect her wishes. No biggie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's some question about how far away a person has to be behind you for you to hold the door for them. I think the general rule is about 4 feet.  However I think it's up to  you.  If they seem far away then go on about your business.  If they are close it's a nice gesture to offer. They can then either speed up to meet you or they should say 'it's ok, I got it, thank you' to let you know to go on ahead. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(And if someone is holding the door for you, you really should speed up and not just leave them standing there waiting.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gentleman to gentleman and woman to woman, you should hold the door for each other.  Not necessarily in 'the open the door to let the other pass' scenario.  But more so in the, 'don't let the heavy door slam down on another person' scenario.  Hold the door until the person behind you touches the handle.  It's ok to double check and look behind you to be sure they've got it.  If you are the one following you should touch the door and hold it for yourself, saying thank you to the person who has preceded you. Don't just expect them to hold the door for you. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(I mean who are you really?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;All youth should hold the door for their elders.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  That's just respect.  Period.  This one is gender neutral.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It would also be a nice gesture for you to hold the door for someone you see with a lot of items in their hands, a heavy bag, etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you do, do this for a woman and she has been rude or un-lady like about it, don't jump down her throat. It could be that she's just hateful. Or it could be she did say thank you and you just didn't hear it. Whatever the case, remember you do this because it's the polite thing to do, not to win any awards. Know that you've something nice for someone and that's really all that matters. Let it slide and don't let one or two &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;(or 20)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; rude females stop you from being courteous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides...someone will address their rudeness at another time ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4593714445340548639?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4593714445340548639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4593714445340548639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4593714445340548639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4593714445340548639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/acting-right.html' title='Acting Right'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4591884995196224887</id><published>2011-01-27T11:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T11:00:09.508-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><title type='text'>Why Are Black Women So Angry?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Some thoughts on the question...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always get annoyed when I hear Black men say they can't deal with a Black woman because she's always so angry.  As if many of us don't have the right to get angry from time to time.  I mean, a Black man can be angry because of course he has it hard in life.  Racial profiling, unlawful arrests, oppression, unfair hiring practices, stereotyping, etc.  It's hard out there for a brother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But brother have you forgotten that while your bodies were being broken down by labor, whips and chains our bodies were being ravaged and destroyed from the inside out? Have you forgotten who was with you on those picket lines, at those lunch counters and marching at your side?  Have you forgotten who was left in charge running the home when you were unjustly taken away? Have you forgotten who holds you down when you're broken down by the system? Have you forgotten how much we've loved you flaws and all when you've sometimes treated us like shit?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we're not supposed to be mad when you disown us, disrespect us and disavow your children or anything and everything we've done or been to you.  Bitch please.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No one questions why you're so angry.  How dare you even open up your mouths to ask us why we're so angry. We've been through what you've been through and had do to it all with bearing the responsibilities of being a woman. We acknowledge your struggle, so don't disvalue ours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4591884995196224887?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4591884995196224887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4591884995196224887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4591884995196224887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4591884995196224887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/why-are-black-women-so-angry.html' title='Why Are Black Women So Angry?'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-5418642765505846606</id><published>2011-01-26T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T11:00:03.389-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTM2jWHVRWI/AAAAAAAAAsE/0pRSN7wgCvY/s1600/thought2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTM2jWHVRWI/AAAAAAAAAsE/0pRSN7wgCvY/s400/thought2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562849945592350050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-5418642765505846606?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/5418642765505846606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=5418642765505846606&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5418642765505846606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/5418642765505846606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/random-thought_26.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTM2jWHVRWI/AAAAAAAAAsE/0pRSN7wgCvY/s72-c/thought2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1465646723697221739</id><published>2011-01-24T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T11:00:08.346-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boondocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LxBcyqBAF74?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LxBcyqBAF74?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1465646723697221739?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1465646723697221739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1465646723697221739&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1465646723697221739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1465646723697221739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/moment-of-simple_24.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-4495843460911132448</id><published>2011-01-23T10:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T10:20:00.648-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bug-a-boo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='texting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='calling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;The call then text then call again...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look.  If you call someone and they do not pick up, it does not give you cart blanche to being to text, IM, call again, text again (lather, rinse and repeat). Unless it is an emergency, I seriously doubt your entire world will crumble to pieces if you don't talk to them this very instant.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just because someone does not pick up doesn't mean they are avoiding you. It doesn't mean they are mad at you.  It doesn't mean they don't like you. It doesn't mean you've done something wrong.  It doesn't mean they're doing something wrong.  They could simply be on the toilet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While it's not a good look on either gender, it's a really bad look when it's coming from a guy. No woman wants to get it in with a guy that calls one time and then within 5 seconds of not getting an answer send a text to say 'oh what you're avoiding me now?' Really...really dude? That quite honestly just shows how deeply insecure you are and insecurity is a terrible look. You have now entered into the realm of being a bug-a-boo and while they may not have been avoiding you before, they probably will start avoiding you now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And just because you call someone over and over and can't ever seem to get them on the phone doesn't necessarily mean they don't want to talk to you.  One of my good friends I call all the time.  If she could imbed her phone in her chest she probably would.  But do you think I can get this girl on the phone when I call her.  NOPE.  Not often.  But I know she's not mad at me. She'll just call me when she can. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's what most people will do.  Call back when they are available or ready to talk.  So be easy. Now if you call, and call and THEN never get a call back.  Then...you should probably just stop calling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-4495843460911132448?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/4495843460911132448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=4495843460911132448&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4495843460911132448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/4495843460911132448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/not-good-look_23.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-1727482618600258588</id><published>2011-01-19T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T11:00:00.612-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thought'/><title type='text'>Random Thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTMxy8_sEhI/AAAAAAAAAr8/tOR8_kIOWKY/s1600/thought.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTMxy8_sEhI/AAAAAAAAAr8/tOR8_kIOWKY/s400/thought.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562844716169171474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-1727482618600258588?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/1727482618600258588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=1727482618600258588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1727482618600258588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/1727482618600258588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/random-thought_19.html' title='Random Thought'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gq2ngv55PaE/TTMxy8_sEhI/AAAAAAAAAr8/tOR8_kIOWKY/s72-c/thought.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-956761803280891727</id><published>2011-01-18T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T11:30:00.286-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perceptions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='critique'/><title type='text'>Self-Critique</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Don't forget about the good...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a conversation with a friend a while back about having an honest self-critique.  I find myself thinking today about how easy it is to be a cheerleader for other people in my life and how hard it is for me to be a cheerleader for myself.  Quite often we can get in the habit of looking at our lives through a jaded lens.  We compare what we thought we would be doing with what we should be doing.  We look at what we have with what we're trying to attain. We're good at finding our own shortcomings and forget to acknowledge what we already have accomplished.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if you are doing a real critique, you have to look at the good with the bad.  Think back to critiques in school.  While there could be quite a bit of time spent on what you didn't do or what sucks about what you did, there were points where someone (should have) recognized what you did do well.  Take a look and what you were trying to do and give you some tips and advice on how to do it better.  Build on your current skills so you can grow.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we critique ourselves we have to remember to look at what we've done well. Acknowledge the good with the bad.  Because recognizing one without the other is not giving ourselves a true view of where we are with respects to what we want. Every start point generates a different path to get to the end point.  And you can't get to where you're trying to go if you don't know where you're starting from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-956761803280891727?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/956761803280891727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=956761803280891727&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/956761803280891727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/956761803280891727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/self-critique.html' title='Self-Critique'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3370190862404412728</id><published>2011-01-17T13:26:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T14:00:56.110-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MLK'/><title type='text'>Thoughts on Dr. King's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;"The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In 2008, I reflected on &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://andlea.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-happens-to-dream-deferred.html"&gt;Dr. King's dreams&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and the hope he had for not only his people but for this nation.  This year my thought are....well.....let me just preface this thought &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(rant)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; with the statement. I completely understand how important it is for everyone to recognize and respect the man, the ideals, and importance behind this holiday.  I acknowledge how important it is for our children to know why we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday.  That being said, let's talk about all this ranting and raving about our schools having to be open on this day because of all the crazy snow weather we had last week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing upset me more than to hear parents complain about their children having to go to school.  Regardless of a holiday or not. I understand that this is a day that is meant to be used to honor the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  But let's get real.  Most of these bandwagon-jumping, faux-protesting, parents are just complaining because it was supposed to be a day off and now it's not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Many of these same parents out here hemming and hawing about how unacceptable it is that their children are made to use this holiday as a snow make up day are the same ones that don't teach their kids what this day is really about.  It would be different if these parents were taking their kids to appropriate museums, talks, presentations or doing volunteer work.  And unless you are doing so, you really aren't doing your kids any favors by keeping them out of school. But you know as well as I do most are just sitting at home watching TV and playing video games. Truth be told many of your ignorant ass kids need this day to be educated so they know who Dr. King was.  (You for damn sure aren't teaching them). If it wasn't this day, they'd be taking days from your spring break and then you'd be marching, protesting and keeping your kids out then too &lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#C0C0C0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(mad cause the school is ruining your vacation plans)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. And then you want to blame the schools and the teachers cause your kid is 18 and doesn't know how to spell 'apple' or that 'to', 'two' and 'too' have three totally different meanings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ONLY people I feel bad for are the teachers.  Because now not only do they have to lose a day they use to be ready, regenerate and rest for the long hard battles they spend out there on the front lines trying to educate these disrespectful sons-of-bitches. They have to now deal with the trifling parents who want to get all up in arms and disrupt the school day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a man who marched, fought, got arrested and died to help give YOUR children an opportunity to be educated.  I'm sure Dr. King didn't expect his holiday to be used as a way for some shiftless Negros to be paid to be lazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3370190862404412728?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3370190862404412728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3370190862404412728&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3370190862404412728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3370190862404412728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/thoughts-on-dr-kings-birthday.html' title='Thoughts on Dr. King&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-2092322975955036410</id><published>2011-01-17T11:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T11:00:08.878-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ernie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sesame street'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kIq8jLj5TzU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kIq8jLj5TzU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-2092322975955036410?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/2092322975955036410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=2092322975955036410&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2092322975955036410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/2092322975955036410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/moment-of-simple_17.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-705165520742205372</id><published>2011-01-10T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T10:18:01.062-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moment of simple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciroc'/><title type='text'>Moment of Simple</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Take the picture...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0hMqMcLWpwA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0hMqMcLWpwA?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-705165520742205372?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/705165520742205372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=705165520742205372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/705165520742205372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/705165520742205372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/moment-of-simple_10.html' title='Moment of Simple'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17068215.post-3307990776487490330</id><published>2011-01-09T15:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T15:35:51.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='not a good look'/><title type='text'>Not A Good Look</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;Those leg-booty-shape-up shoes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I'm 'taking a break' from finishing up my last minute lesson planning I thought I'd go ahead and address this week's issue: those horribly chunky booty shaping shoes. When I first saw the commercial for them I though...hm....ok.  Figured they'd disappear pretty quickly. However soon after there were more, from other companies and I thought....hm....ok.  It wasn't until I saw entirely too many people this past week with them on and I just must say something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please people, these shoes are not cute.  Well let me rephrase.  There is one brand out there that is too ugly.  You've seen them.  The ones with an entire Goodyear tire on the bottom.  The Herman Monster shoe.  Yea, you know them.  Those should not be worn!  There are plenty of other makes and models out there that promise to do the same thing without shouting to the whole world 'I'M TRYING TO MAKE MY BUTT LOOK CUTE!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And really it kinda makes you seem a bit...I don't know...susceptible to the propaganda.  I mean all products suck each of us in one way or another.  But to me this just seems like another excuse for people not to really work out.  I mean do you see them on those trim ladies walking trails?  No you see them on the middle aged soccer mom's in the grocery store rocking their mom jeans and 80's perms. Granted the idea that you can build even more of a work out into your everyday routine is a good idea.  And some of the other shoes are kinda cute.  But please stop with the big uglies, cause those shoes are just not a good look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17068215-3307990776487490330?l=www.disillusionedblackgirl.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/feeds/3307990776487490330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17068215&amp;postID=3307990776487490330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3307990776487490330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17068215/posts/default/3307990776487490330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.disillusionedblackgirl.com/2011/01/not-good-look.html' title='Not A Good Look'/><author><name>Miss_A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00623414817223777352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-exeMspiz9w4/Tb-SYSreOwI/AAAAAAAAAuM/a7tmjqxS_u8/s220/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-05-03%2Bat%2B1.26.43%2BAM.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
