the fabulous and funky world of a diva

lots to blog on. doing

2009-10-08T01:49:00.001-04:00

lots to blog on. doing this one via text. my boss told me today that i have a negative spirit because i didnt car 4 moNiques show.

2009-08-28T11:25:00.001-04:00

i made southwest ga living mag. get yours today! heres a nippet until i get to my computer.
fabfunkydiva.com

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2009-08-08T16:01:00.001-04:00

what do you do?

2009-04-24T01:35:00.003-04:00

i have my suspicions. i'm trying to see them through. i want to know...baby are you true? it taunts me. it drives me. it consumes me. please...i need to know. if you are betraying me. i need to know. i have to know...if your my dream or the lowest of the low...a typical joe. just be true...cause i love you. please please please don't disappoint me. otherwise...this diva's rath, WILL BE! and you will be a part of the witches brew. best believe...everyone will feel sorry for you. please be true. i love you.

REMEMBER THIS SHOW? SIFL & OLLY

2009-04-15T15:12:00.001-04:00

THAT'S THE WAY OF THE WORLD

2008-11-16T20:18:00.005-05:00

WOW! It's been a little over a week and I'm STILL speechless! I'm so overjoyed. You know...the funny/weird thing is...In this past week...I've seen so many people of color begin to work on getting their shit together...including myself. For me...seems like things are just falling into place and I totally give GOD the glory regarding that but there are so many other people who didn't thing that there would be someone who had overcome so many obstacles to actually WIN the Presidency. Everyone has said...THERE IS NO EXCUSE NOW! I love it! There was never an excuse in this century but people hid behind them. Now...they see...with their own eyes. It's like a miracle manifesting. I love it. You know what they say about GOD, in reference to him showing up....HE SHOWS OUT!!

There are still TONS of haters out there but this election has inspired so many.

priceless

2008-10-24T12:32:00.001-04:00

priceless, originally uploaded by fabfunkydiva.

a picture is worth a thousand words

THE NIECES

2008-10-22T18:45:00.001-04:00

MADISON & MORGAN
Originally uploaded by fabfunkydiva

Okay...think it's been a minute since you've seen the nieces so....HERE YA GO!!! Madison is 3 and Morgan turns the big 01 next week! I'm so in love. The best part is that I can totally love on them and GIVE THEM BACK!!! Ain't Singledom GRAND? Haters!!! teehee

THE MOST HATED BLACK MAN

2008-10-15T14:53:00.005-04:00

Behold! The most Hated Black (questionable) Man in America. James T. Harris...a conservative radio host (black republican - oxyMORON!) that personally told McCaint at a rally to "take down O'Bama!" I mean...it was more like begging and pleading Massa McCaint.....get that "field N" It was PATHETIC! It's one thing to believe what you want regarding politics and religion...but it's another to tell someone to take another down. Political Black on Black CRIME!! If you see him in the streets say... SHAME ON YOU!! BETCHA MAKE YOUR MOM PROUD!

P.S. Reach out to the "so called brotha" here.

OH AND CNN...DON'T GIVE THIS DUMB ASS ANYMORE AIRTIME PLEASE... "I'M BEGGING YOU?"

Uppity Negro

2008-09-07T23:17:00.001-04:00

Uppity Negro, originally uploaded by abbyladybug.

Why don't people get it? In the South, you were called that if you wanted an education, if you were articulate, you wanted to rise above the "norm." People called you "Uppity" if they thought you "didn't know your place." I think UPPITY is a good thing. It implies that one is PROUD and Loves Him/Her Self...therefore wanting to be and "knowing" that you are BETTER. Not to say that everyone is beneath you but honestly...if GOD is the King (which he is) and we are his children then.....COME ON! We are better! Better than what or who and how you treat that/them...is up to you. UPPITY NEGROS UNITE!

Barack Obama Campaign Poster

2008-09-04T16:15:00.003-04:00

BARACK has lit a fire like no other candidate has in years. This is the kind of energy America needs. It makes me proud again. Oh...and I don't want to hear it from the people that question my patriotism as a result. I've been ashamed of the way Bush and arrogant Americans behave. We are all GOD'S kids.

I/WE PROTEST!!

2008-05-23T12:54:00.004-04:00

Gas prices SUCK so bad that my co-worker, in protest...rode a horse to work. Pretty brilliant, hunh? She works for the country station in the building so it was dam near perfect for publicity, considering that we are in the ratings period.

It left me thinking...what could a sista do? Can't mess up the hair....so what option is there for us? curious...just one of those things that make you go, hhmmm......discuss.

Anyway...did you ever think that gas would get to 4bucks a gallon. Thats a f*ing meal at McDonalds. And since when is it cheaper to go out to dinner than buying groceries and eating at home?...since NOW!

Fucking Republicans!

Catching Up!

2008-05-18T20:37:00.003-04:00

I can't believe I haven't posted in FOREVER! My life has been chaos. I started a new position with another radio group and I've been...ALOT overwhelmed. I haven't done any art work...I SUCK! The cool thing is that the niece is growing into a little burst of comedy. Check her out....

That child cracks me up. You know....I really try to blog. I even got a friend of mine to contribute, but...she fell off too. I've gotta do better in more ways than one. Check ya later...jazzy

CAN YOU BLAME HIM?

2008-01-22T12:27:00.001-05:00

DID YOU SEE THIS?

I am sorry. This is my problem with church. I think with the net, videos, high tech cell phones, tivo...whatever...we need something that will help our A.D.D. in church. Sitting still and listening to someone preach ain't cuttin' it...at least for me, it isn't. I (kinda ashamed to admit) even downloaded I guess Verizon's version of "The Church" on my phone. It's just quickie passages from the Bible to help you through the day. It's WAY more interesting than a lot of churches I've gone to. Remember those Black History Month programs we used to have in the auditorium in elementary & high school? Man, if there was no "entertainment" (theatre, singing, dancing...something) and we just had a series of speakers....we were nodding off. Hey, I can't blame Bill. Ya gotta love him. But I'M STILL VOTING FOR BARAK! =)

Layaway

2007-11-19T14:46:00.001-05:00

My first semester of college was an exciting time. I hailed from a small town outside of Delaware that had a complete lack of social activity (ten black people, fifteen, tops). In addition, I had an unfortunate sense of style (sausage bangs) that followed me through my high school years. This lack of social activity applied particularly to the lack of viable dating options. Don’t get me wrong, there were black men to be found. However, where I lived, the very few black men in town liked their women somewhat lighter (white) than myself. In fact, rather than “The Home of Tax Free Shopping,” Delaware’s motto should have been: “A White Woman for Every Black Man.” You think I’m kidding. But, any lonely black woman from Wilmington who has ever attempted to get the black guy behind the bar to serve her a drink knows I speak the truth.

Atlanta was, to me, the proverbial buffet: plentiful and satisfying. So, like the fat girl at a smorgasbord, I was piling as much as I could on my plate at one time. And I was going back for seconds.

The first few months were a heady experience. I spent my time being courted by various and sundry men, I stayed up until sunrise taking walks and talking, I played cards and could talk trash with the best of them. But I noticed something strange as time went on. The guys that I was spending time with seemed to like me, in fact, they were downright giddy. But after a couple of weeks I would see these same guys spending their time with women that were . . . how can I put this delicately (Janice Rossi) WHORES. When I finally got up the never to call a potential suitor on his BS, he revealed something that I believe led to the eventual revocation of his Playa’ Card.

“I really like you. And eventually, when I’m ready to settle down, you’ll be the girl I’ll want to marry.”

I was stunned. It was then that I realized that the home training, my good girl demeanor, and everything that my parents drilled into my head (keep a quarter in your bra in case the boy gets fresh and you have to find a ride home) had brought me to this point. I was a dedicated, loyal, and creative girlfriend. I was as wholesome as whole wheat bread. I was the kind of woman that a man would be proud to call his wife. A woman that a man would be proud to have bear his children. I was the kind of woman a man would want to settle down with just as soon as he stopped fucking everything in sight.

I was on layaway.

Much like the shopping system of the same name, relationship layaway has a simple, but ingenious premise. You meet a girl. She fits you, looks nice on your arm, and you know that she is a timeless piece that will become an integral part of the wardrobe of your life. She’s also really expensive: mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Dating her would require personal sacrifice and some serious reduction in the other cheaper women that you’re life closet is currently cluttered with. Unwilling, or unable, to pay the price there is only one real solution for the horny, teenage college male: layaway.

So, like that winter coat that you want in the summer, sometimes the best thing is to have the nice store people to put it on hold. Payments are still made, but they are nominal at best. The item in question languishes in purgatory until you return to retrieve it. Or not. But, as any savvy shopper knows, things on hold have a tendency to disappear from one day to the next. Similarly, a woman sitting on the sidelines watching the man she loves behave like everyday is Madi Gras (show us your tits!) will eventually tire of being unable to join in the festivities. For me, the culmination of this was an embarrassing little incident involving my standing in the college square screaming into the sky in frustration (both sexual and emotional).

And so it went. I was unwilling to become “that girl” and they were unwilling to give up a diverse dating life. In the intervening years I’ve been put on layaway by the best of them: doctors, professors, and at least one Secret Service Agent (the secret: he couldn’t commit). Years later, I still get phone calls from those old beaus of college past. Some have settled down and found a partner. Others are still looking. I know what they’re doing; it’s just like old times: they’re still checking to see if the piece they left is on hold, still waiting to be claimed. But I know I’m worth more than they’re willing to pay.

I’m worth more than layaway.

DARK THOUGHTS about PLAN B

2007-11-06T20:24:00.000-05:00

Funny....how relationships go. Funny....the differences between men and women.

So, I was watching Desperate Housewives and the whole Carlos, Edie and Gabby thing is killing me. They are hilarious.

I can't believe Carlos actually thought that Edie wouldn't have a plan B. All women have a plan....and a plan B. We've seen too often what happens when you don't have a plan B. Exhibit A...Bernie (Angela Bassit in Waiting to Exhale). I know...you're thinking...that's just the movies, not real life. Think about...they get that shit from somewhere. What's a plan B anyway? Well, It can be anything...... revenge (hell hath no fury like a woman scorned), success (nothing says i'm better than you...you LOSER! like focusing on being the epitome of success), THE MONEY STASH (money won't make ya happy but will sure comfort you through a depression), THE ESCAPE ROUTE (for those that feel trapped in a relationship, so much so...they have to plan and execute a getaway), roots (we've all heard the stories about what NOT to eat), a lover (because, the best way to get over someone is with someone else), people fake illnesses or pass them...as a plan B, and...i've even seen some women go all out and get knocked up...as a plan B. It can really be ANYTHING! That's the beauty/evil of it....you never know what's eating away at their brain. I only scratched the surface....because we know what Carlos has cooked up for Edie, BUT like her "staged" suicide attempt....I'm sure she'll find a way to flip the script. Can't wait to see how it all unravels.

Be careful and try to treat your loved one like they deserve to be treated. When a woman decides to break down the barriers to let you in... She loves hard. Once she falls and is forced to get up, SCATTER! because there will be hell to pay.

Ya know......I can totally relate to Edie.

Club Wally

2007-10-16T10:57:00.000-04:00

Lately I’ve been pining over the loss of my best friend. No, he didn’t die. Worse . . . he moved to Atlanta. In the process, we both lost a soul mate, you know, without the sex or possibility of marriage. A Grace without a Will, I’ve immersed myself in retail therapy in order to recover. Only problem is, there’s nothing remotely resembling retail in my fair town. So, I tried to lose myself in the club scene, only to realize that my town doesn’t boast much of one. In fact, there’s only one place that I know of that mixes the best of both worlds: the retail therapy I needed with the kind of balling and flossing only seen in the nicest clubs. That place? Wal-Mart. Yeah, I said it, Wal-Mart.

My first encounter with Club Wally came when I first moved here nearly four years ago. A newly minted girlfriend, I’ll call her “Bootie,” (due to an obvious and prominent part of her anatomy) called me at around 10 pm on Saturday night and asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart. Figuring she was taking me on a pity errand, I readily agreed and threw on my jeans, tennis shoes, and collegiate sweatshirt. When I opened the door 30 minutes later, I was greeted with what I can only describe as full hoochie regalia. Bootie was decked out in dark denim, heels, and a top that damn near showed her navel. That was in addition to perfectly coiffed hair and full face. She raked me from head to toe with a critical glance and announced, “You’re going to Wal-Mart in that?” (funny, I was thinking the exact same thing).

Ten minutes later, I had been cajoled into a somewhat nicer top and a pair of heels and was on my way. Honestly, I didn’t realize what all the fuss was about until I got there. At 11 pm on a Saturday the parking lot was packed. Caddys, spinners, and hoo-rides dominated the parking lot. And when we went inside . . . Well, I’m not that descriptive of a writer just yet. I can say, however, that men had their full club prowl on. As I watched my friend preen and flirt with a gang of dudes, her cart empty, I realized that the point of this trip wasn’t shopping at all (I know, I’m slow on the uptake). Now, I’m not a huge fan of being hit up at the club. But, I at least get a free drink out of it and know when I go that I’m going to get the full-court press from a bunch of sloppy drunk black men. However, getting ambushed by the feminine hygiene section is where I draw the line. There is nothing less sexy than a guy trying to ask for your number while your cart is trapped between the Massengil and Always pantyliners (silly me, I was actually there to shop). Somehow, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t see myself explaining to my future children that mommy met daddy while trolling for the lowest price on contact lens solution.

An hour later, she had four phone numbers and I had a headache, a Brita water pitcher, and a family sized pack of maxi pads. I also learned that this madness wasn’t limited to the local area, as the license plates in the parking lot attested to people coming from as far as an hour away to partake in the happening social scene known as Club Wally. As we headed for home, I made several mental notes to self: 1) My new friend’s boy-craziness may eventually end our association (it did) 2) My new town is really hard up for things to do (it is) and 3) never go to the Wal-Mart on a weekend. However, being the only 24 hour place in town, it has been quite difficult to adhere to that last part, particularly when when I'm bored at 1 am on a Saturday and nothing except for a browse through the cosmetic aisle and a pair of new panties will do.

When those occasions do come, I throw on a cute t-shirt and my tightest pair of jeans, slick on some lipstick, (what can I say, I’m a slave to social norms) and head out to the club.

New Dog, Old Tricks

2007-09-28T15:27:00.000-04:00

Recently, I celebrated my 30th birthday. And it appears that the entire male population of my city got the message. I say this, because it seems that overnight, my options have changed. Gone is the single man, unencumbered and afraid of commitment. He has been replaced with the divorced man, encumbered by alimony, child support, and kids . . . and afraid of commitment. How this switcheroo happened, I will never know. But it appears that I am treading much the same shark infested waters as before, but the sharks have been through at least one bad marriage which they can point to in order to justify their player ways.

The first candidate I met can only be described as my FGF, my Fluffy Girl Fantasy. For those of you who are not aware, mainly because you were not and never have been fluffy (damn you to Hades) the FGF is the guy that in high school you always promised that you would land 10 years later. He’s the guy that would come with your new body and massive amounts of disposable income. He’s the guy you would take to your 10 year high school reunion just so you could show everyone how damn fabulous you became! Okay, I’m regressing. Anyway, he was the brass ring. And interestingly enough, he expressed a marked interest in me. He was also in the process of a divorce, and with a soon to be ex-wife in California was on the “out of sight, out of mind” tip. He had two children (one in town, one with the soon to be ex-wife) and a determination to cut a swath through the entire female population of our fair city. Starting, it seems, with me. We had fun . . . there was plenty of witty banter, lots of alcohol involved, and at least one make-out session behind one of the many dive clubs our city has to offer.

Then came the inevitable invite home. I always assumed that divorced men would a least be a little rusty on their game. As I fought off the four hands he grew, I realized that I was clearly mistaken. It seems that the one advantage God gave the recent divorcee is an overabundance of game. I now believe that married men, like squirrels, store up their game for the inevitable cold winter they see coming. Within seconds, there was a hand up my skirt, a tongue down my throat, and an unhooked bra digging into my back . . . it was like an After School Special. After pulling myself together and belatedly lodging my objections to his still married status, he hit me with possibly the stupidest reasoning I have ever heard. He explained that he really wasn’t married due to a snafu in filing and therefore was really not in the process of getting a divorce, although his lawyer advised him to still get one. I know, I know, let the ridiculousness sink in. Now clearly, based on this interaction, I’m a complete ho, but I definitely am not stupid. I rolled my eyes and wrenched myself away with my dignity (and clothing) relatively intact and beat a path out of his lair. Needless to say, I didn’t call him again and he moved on to easier prey, specifically, an embryo by the name of Tiffany.

Three weeks later, opportunity reared its ugly head yet again. I had decided to allow my loins, not my ego, to make my next choice, and it chose a doozey. He was funny, handsome, and smart. He also had two ex-wives and four children. My loins ignored the flatbed of baggage pulling up behind him. Over the next couple of months we hung out and got to know each other; I met his friends, he tried my lasagna. But my loins urged for a faster disposition in this matter. In order to get my brain to look the other way on this less than genius choice (my loins only have a fourth grade education) I did what any self-respecting female in a similar situation would do (I got a bottle of Patron and I got sh*tfaced). The next morning, I awoke with a rolling stomach, and gum tangled in the bird’s nest of hair on top of my head. My loins sighed, content. My mind however, was horrified at what had happened while it was on it’s tequila soaked vacation.

A week later, I was getting the oh-so predictable “I’m not ready to get serious with anyone right now” speech. Clearly, the single men have been sharing their material with the recently divorced. We still speak, but now with that awkward, stilted tone of two people who have unadvisedly seen each other naked. But I have learned a valuable lesson from my first few months as a 30 year old single woman. The man may change, but the game remains the same.

And Now Let Me Introduce Myself . . .

2007-09-28T15:22:00.000-04:00

Hello to all those in bloggerland. My name is Haviland. I felt it was necessary to give an intro before making my offering at the Altar of the Blog. I am 30 years old and a diva who has only recently come into my own. Some would say that I've always been a diva (particularly my older sibling) but I would like to believe it is only in the last 5 years that my diva-ness has fully blossomed. Some divas are born, this one was made.

Thank you, Jazz, for allowing su casa to be mi casa, if only for a little while. I'll try not to make to much of a mess . . .

And now, with no further ado . . .

A NEW DAY, A NEW BEGINNING

2007-09-27T21:04:00.000-04:00

So get this....I suck at keeping this blog up so...I decided to ask a friend and fellow diva of mine to assist me in entertaining you with the glimpse in the life of fabulous and funky divas. Let's call her Haviland. (she chose the name) I dug the character. Know the movie? =)

IT'S ON AND POPPIN'

2007-08-25T00:20:00.000-04:00

LOTSA LOTSA GOOD, BAD and UGLY STUFF going down on this end. Let's see....

My Dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer, had to undergo radiation. The sis is pregnant so, she can't be anywhere near him which is bummin' both of them out. On the postitive tip though.... his health and spirits are wonderful. I'm so proud of him. He's so high on life right now. I have never seen my dad like this. It's intoxicating. He kicks ass.

The job dealio is crazy. Got news coming but....for now.....mums the word. (i'm sworn to secrecy)

Oh yeah... ME ART! Well...I've been so excited...I can't eat...all that much (teehee),
HELLO, IT WAS MEXICAN!! You gotta eat it. Delicio-so!

MY WEBSITE IS UP!!

Check it out and hit me up via email. Love you guys....I'll catch up with you this weekend.

Things are looking up and as usual....GOD IS SHOWING OUT!

***DUH...can't believe I asked you to check it out without posting the url. My Bad... www.fabfunkydiva.com

OMG CHECK OUT THE NIECE

2007-07-30T19:05:00.000-04:00

SHE'S A STAR!

I LOVE MY DOG....AND MIKE VICK!

2007-07-27T17:39:00.000-04:00

I love those Atlanta Falcons...win or lose. Michael Vick has been getting terrible press regarding his indictment. I'm a firm believer in being innocent until proven guilty. The government has had crappy cases before. Maybe they have a strong case against his couterparts and because he owned the house, he's considered "guilty." I don't know,...and that's just the thing....we don't know. We just have to wait and see.

It all bothers me. I'd like for the stars to be responsible. I mean everyone from entertainers (lohan, usher, rappers, etc.), atheletes, politicians, cops...everyone! to be responsible about what they say and do. I know stuff happens, no one's perfect and mistakes are made. I just wish people considered that, ...when you are in the spotlight...the world is watching.

I know, alot of famous people, that came from nothing...like to go back and bring up the people that were at the "bottom" with them. Most times...this is the dang problem. If those people had the drive and determination to come up...they would be up. Misery loves company. Usually, they tend to drag down the very people that try to help them. Whatever happened to the whole...teach a man to fish deal? I'm off the subject again...sorry.

You know...a wrestler just killed himself and his family and eventhough it got loads of press, it didn't get this kind of negative press. It's like Vicks being made out to be pure evil (when he hasn't even gone to court yet), and this man killed his own son with a wrestling move, and whatta ya know? People chose to focus on the steroids making him do it. WTF?

This is my poopy. Isn't he cute? This is his summer do...it's hot here. He's hyper as hell! I love him to pieces. I loved that PETA protects the rights of animals, but when they are going after people that haven't been convicted of anything or threatening to kill people because they wear/or design clothes using fur (J-Lo)...then they aren't the organization I thought they were. I never knew they could be so darn ruthless. I believe in hugging trees but some of you guys take it too far, like some people treat religion.

I learned lots about the chicken slaughter houses and I think twice before going to KFC. (think twice...didn't say i'd stop eating there)

Is that bad? We hear all these crazy stories about Chinese food being made with dogs and cats.....we eat it still. (well, most of us. Chinese is good, i'm sorry)

Anyway, I'm getting off the subject, again. That's what I love about blogs....I can just vent. I don't have to have a shouting match. I don't have to deal with the blood pressure rising. NADA!

I can just speak my peace via internet.

Did you know that some people are really getting into the racial issue on this whole thing? I checked out this one blog, and someone was commenting on how the animals were being mistreated and murdered. Then someone responded to that comment by comparing how slaves were treated. Then someone else responded by throwing in the "N-Word!" Saying that was all that Michael Vick was. WOW....can you believe that?

I don't believe ANY living thing or person should ever be mistreated. We belong to GOD. Well, some of us, GOD may opt to throw some of us back, like fish. (haha)

Anyway, this whole situation is something that Mike Vick will have to deal with and I hope that HE IS and IS found Innocent.

Foul thing is....even if he is found innocent, he'll never live this down. Sad world we live in. It's filled with a bunch of Self-Righteous Bastards....from the idiots that approved and wanted this war, to the ones that find it entertaining to watch animals kill eachother to the ones that wage war on the POSSIBLE innocent. SAD!

Whew...I feel better now. Off the Soap Box...Thanks!

Oh yeah...GO FALCONS!

The Niece is at it again......

2007-07-20T23:52:00.000-04:00

HAPPY B-DAY TO ME!

2007-06-25T01:18:00.000-04:00

WOW! Look at me, blowing out my candles on my Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs cake. I was 6yrs old. Funny how time flies. I never thought I'd see 38. Not in a "live by the sword, die by it" way...but in a "can't imagine life past my 20's" kinda way. I just thought that maybe the world would end or something. I'm digging the opportunity to grow old. I'd love to live well into my eighties. Well...if there is a world left when these Republicans are done with us. (smile)

Anyway....Things have to change. I really can't imagine being 40 and doing radio. I just don't want to be an old ass dj. Can you feel me? I've been working like crazy on my art. Marketing and working on your dreams, while holding down a full-time job is a BITCH! But...you know what they say....anything worth having, hunh?

Well, I've started and stopped, started and stopped and started again and I REFUSE TO GIVE UP! My Birthday present to myself....is to keep pushing! Somethings got to give.............