I have a confession to make. Despite my outward appearance and demeanor, some days it is a physical struggle to get out of bed in the morning.  At least once a month I cry myself to sleep, to the point of waking up with puffy red eyes and hiccups.  Dating back as far as I can remember (early childhood) my mood has always been generally melancholy, an oceanic blue.  I experience bouts of depression that range from simple sadness to life re-considerations as predictably as season changes.  It has become more manageable the older I get. This feels like a …Read more »

This post was supposed to be a movie review. But, dear crunk feminists, after repeated attempts to convince myself to bite the bullet and watch the film, (I have a long-standing and abiding love for Julia Roberts and a newer, but equally abiding, love for Javier Bardem) I cannot do it. I have two central reasons why: My most fundamental objection is not to the glorified cultural appropriation (I do object to it, see number 2), but rather, to the glamorization of a breakdown. The glamorization of what it feels like to see your own life fall apart before your …Read more »

I don’t believe bitch is the new Black, anymore than I believe that 30 is the new 20. As our most recent racial shenanigans have reminded us, Black is still its same ol’ Black self. And anybody who engages in the same shamtastic behaviors at 30 as she did at 20 is just plain trifling. That said, I think y’all should check out Helena Andrews recently published memoir Bitch is the New Black. We know good and well that it ain’t easy out here on single Black women.  And the Tyler Perryization of Black women’s lives has made it possible …Read more »