Category Archives: rant

So…About These New Ideas…


I’ve been hinting at these new plans and ideas I had about my career, so I figured I’d let you all in on the secret.

Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook might remember that I said I was thinking about starting a vlog about my dating experiences. The idea was met with high praise.

Well…

I’m gonna do it. I’m going to start a channel on YouTube called Unapologetically Mocha. In case that sounds familiar, that’s also the name of my Instagram page. It will also soon be an active Twitter account and a Facebook page.

Yeah, I’m going big with this one.

Provided I work up the nerve to post a video.

Those of you who know me realize that I hate Hate HATE how I look in photos. Well that goes double when it comes to video. I just think I look goofy.

But…

I truly have a lot I want to say and I really think video is the perfect format for it, so I’m taking the advice from a book that I recently read How to Be a Bawse: I’m going to step out of my comfort zone. It’s the only way I’m going to accomplish what I want to achieve.

Sidenote: Read this book. It’s awesome. Lilly is awesome. I’ve watched her videos a ridiculous number of times.

Back to my plan.

I’m writing the script for my first video now. I’m picking out my outfit. I’m deciding what to do with my hair. I might even get a manicure.

Yeah, it’s THAT serious. 🙂

But once I get past the first two or three videos, I’m gonna need help from you guys. I need ideas. What do you want to see? Anything in particular you want me to talk about? Keep in mind, this won’t be just about dating…

Have you ever been in the middle of a conversation via email, text, or Facebook and while you’re typing out a lengthy reply you realize, “This would be so much easier if I just picked up the phone?” Well, consider my vlog that phone call. I’m going to talk about my dating adventures plenty. But I’ll also rant about other things….think of my vlog as an extension of my Facebook page. Same content, just in video format.

Anyway, I just wanted to *finally* let you in on what I was planning. Like I said, I’m writing the script now, so watch this space and my Facebook page for the launch date.

I hope you come with my on this new adventure. I haven’t been this excited about a new venture in a long time. And seriously, if you have ideas about what something you want to see, let me know, either as a comment here or on my Facebook page.

Chat soon! 🙂

 

 

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Two Weird Experiences and the Lessons That Came with Them


Hiya peeps!

I’ve had an interesting (last) week. Things have happened that have made me really think about what I want to do with my life and my career. I’ve done a lot of soul searching and I think I’m formulating a great plan that will allow me to accomplish my goals while contributing to the greater good. I can’t wait to tell y’all about it.

Next week. Later this week.

Sorry guys, but I have other things to discuss today. Don’t worry, they’re just as important and interesting.

And if not, you’ll definitely be back next week later this week to hear all about my plans.

<insert evil genius laugh here>

Anyway…

I want to talk about two things I experienced in the last couple of weeks that have made me wonder about the state of the world. I’ll explain and then offer commentary at the end.

On Mother’s Day, I was coming back from a trip to the store to pick up aluminum foil. We were having a cookout and you can never never have too much aluminum foil. As I drove, I noticed a man who was surrounded by scattered grocery items and a bicycle that was sitting on its side. I surmised that he had fallen off his bike and his purchases had been tossed during the fall.

There wasn’t any place for me to pull over and he was standing in front of a driveway so I had to drive to the end of the block, turn around in the gas station parking lot, double back and park in the lot next to the one where the man was standing. As I pulled into the lot, another car pulled in in front of me. We both got out and approached the man, both of us armed with an empty plastic bag. By the time we got to him, another  person was helping him retrieve his groceries. We joined in and helped pick up his items. The whole time the man just kept saying, “I can’t believe I fell over like that.” While we were rebagging his items, a car slowed down and lowered its window. A woman offered the man a canvass shopping bag. He tried to turn it down, but she said, “so you have something sturdier for the next time.” As we all walked away in our different directions, I felt like humanity wasn’t all lost and that humans still had a fighting chance.

And then I went to Sheetz.

Now, I’m not bashing the entire company. I’m not even bashing everyone at this particular location. But I am bashing one employee from now until the next 6th Saturday in June. I ordered food online from Sheetz. As I was leaving to pick it up, the daughter’s boyfriend asked if I would grab him a beer. I said “sure,” he handed me the money, I left and headed for the store.

I get there, and it’s business as usual. Lots of teens and 20-somethings. Gas and oil workers grabbing their greasy food and cases of beer. Exhausted looking parents getting gas and snacks and doing a last potty break before getting on the road.

I get in line so I can pay for my food. There’s three or four black guys in line in front of me. Probably Diva’s age, or a little younger. Well one of them apparently didn’t have an id, so the cashier refused to serve any of them. They were annoyed and disappointed, but they weren’t making a scene.  While I was waiting in line, I remembered I actually wanted a raspberry ale, so I jumped out of line, got my ale and got back in line. At this point, the guys had left.

I get to the counter and I pay for my food and alcoholic beverage. The cashier was pleasant enough to me, but I could tell he was agitated about the previous customers. At this point the guys had left the store and were outside, standing by what I am guessing was their car. The cashier gave me my receipt and I ventured to the food side to wait for my order.

Once I had my food and was leaving, I realized that I forgot to buy J’s beer. Not only that, but I had left his money for his beer in the car. So I went to my car (which was parked directly in front of the doors), dropped off my stuff, grabbed J’s money and went back into the store. I walked directly back to the beer cooler, grabbed the beer and walked straight to the checkout. I said, “Okay, this is the last time you’re gonna see me in this line.”

And then then wheels fell off the bus.

Cashier: Sorry but I can’t sell this to you.

Me: Why not?

Cashier: Because if one person in the group doesn’t have ID, then I serve anyone in the group.

Me: What group? I came here by myself.

Cashier: I saw you talking to someone outside. I can’t sell this to you.

Me: No, you didn’t see me talking to anyone outside because I didn’t talk to anyone. I went to my car which is (pointing out the door) right there, dropped off what I had already purchased and came directly back in to buy what I forgot.

At this point, the realization of what he was implying set in.

Me: Oh, I get it. Since there’s a group of black guys and I’m black, we must all be together, right? So, I’m buying this one, lone 40 ouncer so they can pass it around among tbemselves?

Cashier: I can’t sell this to you. You can get as violent as you want, but it’s not going to happen.

Admittedly, I was mad. But violent? Seriously?

Me: There is nothing violent about me. I’ve said nothing violent, I’ve just called you out on your racist profiling. Funny…you didn’t have an issue with selling me the ale, but the beer is a problem? Why? I can’t drink a 40? You said you saw me talking to someone outside? Point them out. Where are they? You’ve got cameras? Let’s look at the footage. Show me who I was talking to. Please, I’m dying to know!

At this point, the manager comes over and asks what’s going on. The cashier tells him that he saw me talking to someone outside and because of that, he doesn’t want to sell me the beer.

Manager: Sorry ma’am, but if someone in the group doesn’t have id, no one in the group can be served.

This again. So, once again, I explain that I came in alone, made a purchase alone, realized I forgot to buy the beer came back in (say it with me) alone and was trying to make this last purchase…alone.

Me: And like I told the cashier, if you’ve got footage of me talking to someone during the 15 seconds it took for me to walk to my car, grab money and reenter the store, then I’d love to see it.

Manager: (looks at cashier) go ahead and sell it to her.

Cashier: (shakes head and backs away from the register): If you want to sell it to her, then you ring her out. I’m not a racist.

Me: Maybe you aren’t. And if that’s the case, then stop acting like one.

So now I’m boycotting this particular Sheetz location. I have no problem with a store adhering to an underage drinking and tobacco purchase policy. But I do have a problem with someone who uses that policy to be a douche at best, racist at worst.

So, my takeaways from these two encounters:

  1. there are still good people in this world who see the good in others and are willing to come together for a common goal.
  2. There are still jerks in this world who will look for any reason to promote a stereotype or make negative assumptions…and then lie about it to cover their own butts.
  3. The gas station down the street from Sheetz has the same beer.

Later this week I’ll be back with some announcements and to fill you in on some other things going on with me. Until then, have a good week! 🙂

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Why I Detest “All Lives Matter”


When the #BlackLivesMatter movement first gained momentum, it was quickly followed by the response, “All Lives Matter.” For the longest time, that response bugged me, but I couldn’t figure out why.

Then it dawned on me.

It was like telling someone who had just lost their home to a fire, “Yeah, well so-and-so lost their house last month and such-and-such lost their house two days ago. Why are you special?”

Well you’re special because right there…at that very moment, it was happening to YOU. You wanted someone to reach out and help YOU in your moment of pain. You wanted someone to put an arm around you and say, “It will be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

THAT is why “All lives matter” is the LAST thing you should say in response to “____ Lives Matter.” Doesn’t matter which lives we’re talking about. It’s dismissive to any and all of them. So quit saying it.

So, what can you say instead? Let me help you out:

#Black Lives Matter

Response: You’re right, they should but to some they don’t. We’re going to figure out a way to make it so they do.

#Women’s Lives Matter

Response: You’re right, they should but to some they don’t. We’re going to figure out a way to make it so they do.

#LGBT Lives Matter

Response: You’re right, they should but to some they don’t. We’re going to figure out a way to make it so they do.

Get it? From now on, every time someone trots out All Lives Matter, I’m linking them to this post. Because I’m like my father, I don’t like to repeat myself, and I’ve been beating this drum for far too long.

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An Open Letter to Karen Fitzgibbons, Fourth Grade Teacher of the Year — from One of “The Blacks”


Dear Ms. Fitzgibbons…and others like you,

Well aren’t you a special snowflake. You’ve got your degree and you’re helping to mold young minds. Too bad your own mind is twisted, dark and full of unkind thoughts. I haven’t read what it is you teach fourth graders, but I can only assume (with a shudder) that it makes a lasting impression. Just as I’m sure your recent Facebook post made an impression on your bosses, your neighbors and the parents of your students.

I’m glad you apologized to “the appropriate people,” which I would guess is a short list consisting of the principal of your school, maybe a couple of coworkers who might be people of color (aka…the good blacks), and the school district that could turn your summer vacation into a permanent one.

Honestly, I do hope you lose your job, but not for the reasons you might think.

But before I delve into that, let’s look at the statement that got you into hot water to begin with. I pulled it from the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.

“I’m going to just go ahead and say it … the blacks are the ones causing the problems and this ‘racial tension.’ I guess that’s what happens when you flunk out of school and have no education. I’m sure their parents are just as guilty for not knowing what their kids were doing; or knew it and didn’t care. I’m almost to the point of wanting them all segregated on one side of town so they can hurt each other and leave the innocent people alone. Maybe the 50s and 60s were really on to something. Now, let the bashing of my true and honest opinion begin….GO! #imnotracist #imsickofthemcausingtrouble #itwasatagedcommunity,”

Where to being. Where. To. Begin…

I’m just going to pull this apart sentence by sentence.

I’m going to just go ahead and say it … the blacks are the ones causing the problems and this ‘racial tension.’

So “the blacks” are the actual problem. Not intolerant non blacks, or overworked hyped up police officers or other teens who most likely took a private invitation to a party and made it public. It’s just “the blacks.” Good to know.

I guess that’s what happens when you flunk out of school and have no education.

Wait…so only “the blacks” flunk out of school and have no education? So, all “the whites” have degrees and are making $100,000 a year? Huh…I’m sitting in Tim Hortons right now and every worker here is white. Who knew you made $100k at Timmys?

I’m sure their parents are just as guilty for not knowing what their kids were doing; or knew it and didn’t care.

Just as guilty for the problems, the ‘racial tension,’ the flunk out rate, or the lack of education? And who should I blame for your inability to string together a coherent thought? Please tell me you teach fourth grade gym.*

I’m almost to the point of wanting them all segregated on one side of town so they can hurt each other and leave the innocent people alone.

Almost? What’s your tipping point? Seriously, I’m curious. Which side of town do you want to give them? Are you going to move if it’s decided they get your side of town?

Maybe the 50s and 60s were really on to something.

Again, please tell me you teach gym. It was during the 50s and 60s that schools were desegregated. So you want to go back and do it again?

Now, let the bashing of my true and honest opinion begin….GO!

Well, since you asked so nicely…

#imnotracist #imsickofthemcausingtrouble #itwasatagedcommunity,”

Um…#yesyouare #imsickofpeoplelikeyou #learntospellgated

You then go on to tell us that your rant wasn’t aimed at any particular group of people.

So, “the blacks,” “them,” and “they” refer to….?

You know, I could forgive you your rant and chalk it up to frustration. I could forgive you your rant because as you said at the beginning of your post, you’re angry. I could forgive you your rant for any number of reasons, if it weren’t for one thing:

You deleted it.

You didn’t even have the guts to stand by your words. You’re not just ignorant or racist or bigoted for writing that post, you’re a hypocrite and a coward for taking it down. As much as I don ‘t want racist, bigoted and ignorant teachers educating the next generation, I don’t need people who don’t have the fortitude to stand by what they believe teaching them either. So please, do us all a favor, put down the red ink pen (still hoping it’s a whistle), hand in your grade book and find another profession.

*This is in no way slamming gym teachers. My point is that since she misspelled a hashtag, has a hard time forming a coherent thought and doesn’t seem to know U.S. History, the idea of her teaching English, reading or the Social Sciences scares me.

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