Just One of Dem Days....

Have you ever had one of those days? I had one today that honestly has me questioning myself. Let me explain...

I recently lost my job. Even though it wasn't the career-making position I needed, it still contributed to my never-ending goal of paying the bills. And so I'm on the hunt for the next big thing yet again. (***sigh***)

On the strength of a good friend's recommendation, I had an interview with well-known former athlete to produce a daily podcast. While I wasn't sure what that would mean, I decided to go in with my game face on.

The insanity started the moment I entered the studio. With the table and all the stools being extremely tall, it was clear to me that the room had been designed with the former athlete in mind. Athletic Boy, in an attempt to appear gentlemanly, tried to adjust the stool to my lower elevation. When he realized that it wouldn't go as low as I'd need it, he stopped and gave me that, "Oh well, I tried," look. I said to him, "Dude, it's okay. I've been this height for a long time, and I know how to handle it." I could tell that he was taken aback at first, but then he laughed. I thought this was a good sign. The next thing out of his mouth was, "You know, my high school girlfriend had a gap like yours. It either makes you a good lover or a good liar." How was I supposed to respond to that? I decided to let it ride.

At that point, the business manager took over. He asked me to tell him about myself. I don't think name-dropping is the way to go, but I had to mention a few of the them. Then I told him about my gospel gig. What did I do that for? Athletic Boy chimed in with, "Oh, so y'all hide your sexuality." I said, "No, we just believe it's better within the confines of marriage."

It was downhill from there. While the Business Boy was asking the pertinent questions, Athletic Boy was being an ass. His next question: "Do you cuss?" I told that I did when the situation warranted it. Next was, "Well, do you say, 'I didn't mean it, Lord,' when you do?" I replied that Jesus knows what I'm going to do before I do. That really got his goat. He didn't think Jesus could know me because, in his words, "Jesus has been dead for over two-thousand years."

I was too through, but I didn't cave. AB then asked me if Moses knew me. I told him that he was asking questions of faith. He was like, "No. These are direct questions." I said yes, they are, and I believe that Moses -- and everyone else in Heaven -- knows me. Then he asked me something about his own father knowing me, and I told him that since his father wasn't God, I don't know. He then asked me if Moses was chilling with Tupac and Elvis. At that point, I'd had enough, and I said, "Well, Tupac is in the Bahamas, and I don't know what to tell you about Elvis."

The final questions that fool asked me was, "Why are you a Christian?" I told him that after seeing what I'd seen and doing what I'd done, that was the best option for me. I don't know if that was the answer he was looking for, but I thought it was a pretty good one.

When I finally got up outta there, I was cool, but extremely livid. I don't know if I'll hear from him. I don't know if I want to. But what I do know is that I'd love to be curled up in the arms of a loving, caring man right now. Instead, I'm here with you.

Oh well...NEXT!

An Open Letter to An Oscar Nominee

Dear Quvenzhané,

First of all, I want to congratulate you on your Oscar nomination. You've done something at the tender age of nine that some women three time your age or more will never get to do. No matter what else happens in your life, this historic moment is something to be cherished.

Sadly, not everyone is able to celebrate with you. As I'm sure you know -- or will be told in your future -- sometimes being in the spotlight subjects you to people who aren't very nice. They aren't able to be as wonderful as you are, and it makes them feel bad about themselves. Rather than working toward being good at something, they'd rather insult you and try to cut you down to their size. And because your skin is caramel-kissed in a world full of rosy-cheeked babies, you're going to be subjected to even more ugliness than you deserve.

If you're a typical child, you'll probably wonder why. Here's your answer: those of us who live in brown-skin are often berated and belittled by people who don't look like us because they don't understand us. You're probably thinking, "That doesn't make any sense." And you'd be completely right -- it doesn't.

So what can you do? Keep living, learning, growing, and shining. Don't dim your light because someone else can't stand the glare. Maybe they'll put on a pair of sunglasses and bask in your glory. If they can't, well, that's not your problem.

Here's to a wonderful life, lil' sis!

Love, MackDiva

Stop it Now

I'm in tears. Again. This time, though, the tears aren't for me. They're for another young person gunned down, another victim of the senseless violence that's so prevalent in our society right now.

This girl was 18-years-old and left behind a three-month-old son. Her little sister was busy listening to President Obama speak on gun control. Just last week, his wife attending the funeral of another bright young woman who was shot and killed in the streets of Chicago.

How many babies have to die before people get it? How many mothers will have to bury children long before they've reached their potential? How many families will have to suffer before something is done?

Please understand -- I'm not against people having guns. I understand and applaud the right to bear arms. However, you can't tell me that anyone who's not on the front lines of a war in some far away place needs to have assault rifles or magazines with 30 rounds. If you're a hunter, and you need that kind of firepower to kill an animal, may I suggest a gun class instead? Or maybe, you might need to come to terms with the fact that shooting just isn't a part of your skill set.

As far as I'm concerned, anyone who thinks we need to have access to that kind of weaponry for recreational use is crazy. NRA, I'm talking to you. At this point, I'm very thankful that gun violence hasn't hit my family. But the reality is that it could. No one is immune. Not a one. That's why it's necessary to tell our legislators that enough is enough. Pass an assault weapons ban. Don't let the NRA bully you with their lies. Stand up and do what's right for the people.

On Jimmy, Corn, and Careers

In the immortal words of Jimmy, the cracker of corn, "I don't care." #RandomThought

This is the sum total of how I'm feeling today. Let me tell you why...

When you work in radio, you get used to change. My current boss recently announced his resignation. That wasn't a complete shock. When he took the job six months ago, he made it very clear that his heart wasn't in the running of an out-of-control radio station. However, the chain of events that took place after were mind-boggling indeed.

The person they named to take his place has been with the company all of 20 days. Yes, that's less than a month. Even though New Guy was just named head of programming, his background is in sales. So how did he get the job, you ask? Well, according to the stories I heard, New Guy and the big boss have been friends for years. In fact, their wives are BFFs. It really goes to show that when it comes to getting ahead, it's not what you know, but WHO you know.

Even though I think it's absolutely horrid that they're not trying to hide the nepotism, I'm not particularly bothered by it. I've been in radio for almost twenty years, and I've seen people get used and abused, then kicked to the curb like they never mattered. I've had my heart crushed and my dreams derailed. And I haven't trusted a soul since my friend told me, "This business is full of cutthroats, liars, and thieves." When I asked which one she was, she told me that she'd been all three at one time or another.

My direct supervisor, however, is a different story. Producer Girl came from Corporate America, and this is her first foray into radio. From what I can understand, she started off as a segment producer, and eventually moved up to being an executive producer. Bless her heart, she thought that career advancement would follow hard work, and that the sky was the limit. When it was announced that New Guy would be taking over our department, she was crushed. She immediately dissolved into a river of tears. And when she finally was able to pull herself together, she decided that she could no longer work for a company that didn't value her.

I applaud Producer Girl's resolve. I really do. There was a time almost ten years ago when I was almost in the same position she's in. I was working overnights as an entertainment news writer, and my bosses had promised me a nine-to-five position dealing with music. I was working as hard as I could to prove that I was up to the task. In the end, they told me that the funding fell through. I was so hurt that my job performance started to suffer. Eventually, I was asked to either shape up or ship out. I chose the latter because I knew my heart was no longer in it.

So the question you're probably asking is what does that have to do with the Macklicious One. Well, if Producer Girl leaves, her position will be open. Since I currently assist her, I might be asked to step into her shoes. That's fine. What would hurt me is if that bump in responsibility didn't come with a bump in salary. I want to believe that this company would be fair, but trust is hard to come by these days.

Honestly, I'm tired of hoping for the best, but secretly expecting the worst. I'd love to believe in fairness, truth, and justice...but it's hard when your eyes have seen the things I've seen.

And that, people, is why I'm feeling like Jimmy...the cracker of corn.

I Have a Dream, Too

As we celebrate the life and legacy of Rev. Martin Luther King today, let's not forget about our own dreams.

I have a dream...

That one day, men will realize that marriage isn't a life sentence to misery and boredom. It's the basis for economic success and stability.

I have a dream...

That women realize that we're not in competition with each other. If we work together, we can change our world.

I have a dream...

That both men and women will come together to educate the children. If we teach them to love and respect themselves and each other, maybe they'll be too busy to engage in the foolishness that makes their lives miserable later.

I have a dream...

That one day, we won't see one body type, or facial type, or ethnicity as beautiful. Instead, everyone's beauty will be celebrated for its uniqueness.

I have a dream...

That we'll learn to celebrate the diversity in humanity. And we'll learn that we can love each other in spite of our differences.

I have a dream...

That people will finally understand that they can be great without making someone else feel bad.

Happy Martin Luther King Day!

In Defense of Beyonce...

It's been a minute since I weighed in on current affairs, but as I listen to all the flack Beyonce is getting over her $50 million-dollar endorsement deal with Pepsi, I feel that I must.

To all you naysayers, leave that woman alone! We all know that Pepsi isn't the drink of choice if we want to be healthy. We all know that Beyonce probably isn't kicking them back on a daily basis. And the people who want to drink Pepsi -- or any other kind of soda -- will do it whether or not Beyonce is on the commercials. And let's be real clear -- if they gave you $50 million dollars, you'd shake your groove thing to the music of anything, too.

At the end of the day, obesity isn't something that's thrust upon any of us. It doesn't hunt us down and overtake us while we're not looking. It's the result of active neglect. Contrary to popular belief, there's not one food or drink we can blame for being fat. And if we really want to lose weight, we know that we have to eat healthy foods and exercise. And if we choose not to do that, well, that's our bad.

We can't blame Pepsi for our hips, thighs, and bellies that aren't in shape. That's our fault for sitting on the couch when we KNOW we need to be at the gym. And trying to keep Beyonce from making her money as an entertainer is just another way to shift the blame for individual problems onto society as a whole. And it needs to stop.

Oh, No...Not Again

I crossed a line. After six years of fighting, I crossed a line with a friend. It's not like I didn't know it would happen. It was always a matter of when...and how.

When I first met him, I wasn't overly attracted to him. For one, he's really not my type. And honestly, he reminds me of every chauvinistic guy I've ever met. He insists on being "The Man" in every situation. Which would be fine...except he's too impatient to wait on all the information before he acts.

That particular brand of impatience explains why he had his first baby at 15 with the woman who'd later become his wife. He couldn't wait to grow up and get educated like normal teenagers. Instead, he got married and raised three kids...and became a grandparent at the tender age of 36. Now he's playing catch-up on the life he should've had. He just got his degree last year. And now he wants to date.

Here's what's wrong with that -- besides the obvious. This nearly 40-year-old man never really learned how to deal with women. That's not really a major problem until he steps outside of his marriage. Which he did tonight. With me. And I crossed a line.

Understand, the line I crossed really had nothing to do with him. It was a line I'd drawn around myself. I know who I am. I know what I like and don't like...what I want and don't want. I do not want to knowingly give myself to someone who belongs to someone else. That's not my goal. I want someone to love me for me. And I want to take my clothes off with a man who's worthy of my time and who'll take the time to "get" me.

Did I do that tonight? Did I wait for That Man? Oh no...not I. Instead of acting like a lady, I let a few drinks and a strong spirit of loneliness take me down the primrose path to sin and degradation.

And as if that weren't bad enough, this man didn't even take the time to make me feel special. I won't go into detail, but he had the nerve to ask me to do things to him that he had absolutely no intention of reciprocating. Why? Because he only does those things "at home." Talk about a slap in the face!

Here I am laying down all of my principles to make this night happen for you, and you have no intention of making it happen for me. I'm done. He expects me to stay the night, but I refuse to be disrespected in the dark and face it again in the light of day. The one sensible thing I did tonight was leave.

At the end of the day, I have no one to blame but myself. I let myself cross a line I never should have. And for that, there are no words.