George Bush's 9/15/05 'Trina Speech - A Couple of Points of View from the Dirty Dirty South

I watched George Bush's speech last night.

He talked about the whole Katrina disaster and how his administration is going to do so many wonderful things to revive the Gulf Region, and the city of New Orleans, in particular.

I thought to myself, "Hmm... such an eloquent speech.

It's just so heartfelt. You know, I feel so warm and fuzzy inside. Gee whiz...everything's gonna be alright... Yes indeed!"

Then he went and mentioned, near the end of his speech, the New Orleans "Second Line" tradition.

Then I was like, "Oh, he has such wonderful speech writers!"

(I can't imagine him anywhere near a "second line"!! Does he, my beloved President, really even know what a "second line" is? Can you imagine him doing a little jig with an umbrella in his hand?? Oh my!!!)

Boy oh boy, my president sure knows how to read a mean teleprompter!!

My phone rang during the speech. I thought it was a telemarketer. I was all prepared to hang up rudely in his or her face. But it was my best friend Lady Tee. Now, she usually calls me late at night when an Awards show comes on, and she wants to make a funky comment about a singer or a presenter.

But last night, she called about the Bush speech. Now you must understand, Lady Tee doesn't give a damn about politics. The first thing she said?

"Lee, how the hell they gonna interrupt CSI?!!"

Then she said "You know what, Lee? This just goes to show that we are NOT ready for any serious attacks. We have no defenses! We can't even defend ourselves against an act of nature that we knew about in advance, so how the hell are we gonna defend ourselves against some terroristic bombs and mess?"

Bobbie Jean, Lady Tee's mama, screamed "It's a conspiracy!! They were trying to find a way to get all them folks out of there so they can go in and take over that real estate."

Lady Tee said "Them old folks be knowing, Lee!"

(Odd. There's a rumor going around that Halliburton, Cheney's old company, will be involved in some of the renovations in the Gulf Coast Region. Hmm... I hope that's just a rumor. If it's true, why, that would be worse than this whole gas and oil fiasco, wouldn't it???)

Hmmmm.....

My thoughts?

Let's just say if another terroristic or natural disaster happens...

I want to be somewhere hanging out and partying hard with Barbara and Jenna Bush, George Bush's twin daughters. I'm pretty sure they will be the first to be rescued out of any disastrous situation.

If those girls are part of a "second line", I want to be right there in the mix...

That way, I know I'll be saved from disaster...

You can bet your life on that...

Book Review- Counting Raindrops Through a Stained Glass Window by Cherlyn Michaels

A really good book is one that I can curl up on the sofa with and lose myself in for hours and hours on end, not wanting for one moment to stop reading...

...just itching and crying to see what the hell's gonna happen next!

That's how it was for me with the novel Counting Raindrops Through a Stained Glass Window by Cherlyn Michaels.

This is the story of Vanella Morris, a modern-day career woman who's an executive at a Japenese firm in Cleveland, Ohio. She has the perfect life: great income, great condomiunim, nice car, etc.

She also has the perfect man, the sexy Alton Goode. He dotes on her and treats her like she is Queen of the world.

They are so in love (Awwww....how sweet).

Alton even gets down on one knee and asks Vanella to marry her. (Gee! How romantic!!)

Life is just so perfect for Vanella...

...until Alton proposes to her.

From here, the author takes the oh-so-worn-out-cliche (boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl ride off on a white horse into the sunset) and destroys it with a sledge hammer!!!!

The problem is that Vanella Morris has commitment phobia. You see, she knows all the marriage statistics verbatim. Most of her friends have been divorced or are having a rough time in their marriage. She's always been the one they call upon when they need a shoulder to cry on. And to top it off, she has grown up in a dysfunctional household.

Therefore, in a nutshell, her view of marriage?

Marriage is not a good thing.

She suggests to Alton, the perfect male specimen, who's ready for a family and old-fashioned commitment, that they should live together. That way the relationship would stay wonderful.

Oh my... that was the wrong thing to say.

This novel goes on from there to explore the "why" of why Vanella has developed such attitudes about marriage. Through interactions with her friends and her immediate family, the reader gets a good picture of why she believes what she believes. Vanella has allowed her past experiences to shape her beliefs. So where does Vanella go from here? Is she justified in having the beliefs that she has? I won't say anymore than that. You'll have to pick the book up to find out what happens.

What makes this book interesting is that it was a twist on the usual commitment tale, where this time, it is a woman, and not a man, who has commitment jitters. I can't recall reading another story with this theme or plot. Yes, It was a truly original story.

Plus, the author's writing style is... I don't know...stunning, engrossing, vivid, breath-taking, intriguing, magical... orgasmic. Cherlyn Michaels does some beautiful, almost spooky stuff with description, visualization, and character development. Sort of like how the author Tayari Jones does unimaginable, deep-off-the-pages acrobatics with a metaphor or simile. To be honest, it's almost indescribable. Then, to top it off, the author adds twists and turns to an already highly original storyline. Then she takes the turns and twist them up just a little bit more. This is the first book I've ever read where the author pulled me so, so, so deep into the story that I became the main character, feeling what the main character feels. I cried a couple of times, to the point where I had to put the book down and go somewhere and collect myself. I even got really pissed off a couple of times, to the point where I had to remind myself that it is just a story. All in all, it is a wonderful story which made me think, and challenged me to reexamine what has shaped my own beliefs all these years...

This book is definitely a must read. It was moving, deeply emotional, and thought-provoking.

All I have to say is...

Go out and get it.

And get it real soon.

Trust me...You won't regret it...

OLDGIRL#2 - Special Shout Out!!!

I'd like to take a moment to give a special shout out to a good friend of mine, "Lady K", i.e., Oldgirl #2 !!

What's up, Oldgirrrllll?!!!!!!

Folks keep asking me, "Ladylee, what's up with this 'oldgirl' tag?"

It started some fifteen years ago in graduate school. I walked into the first day of the Chemistry Orientation and saw that I was the only black person in the room. This pissed me off for something terrible. I made friends pretty quick, though. But I became friends with one girl in particular, a hispanic girl we'll just call "Lady K".

There were a few black girls that entered our program that next year. One sister in particular could not remember names to save her life. She referred to everyone, including professors, as "Oldgirl" or "Oldboy". "Lady K" and I thought this was confusing, yet at the same time, hilarious!

Lady K and I were always looking for new and interesting ways of entertaining ourselves during that depressing and stressful time, so we started calling each other "Oldgirl". (I know... pretty lame, hunh?) If we saw each other on opposite ends of the hall or anywhere on campus we would yell "Oldgirrrlll!" (I must tell you that this really annoyed people in our immediate vicinity!)

After a while, we even got over into some top secret 007 type craziness. For example, when we were referring to our men, it became Oldboy#1, Oldboy#2, etc. This was at a time when the internet and the whole idea of email was just beginning. We had to use code words... you never knew who was reading this new technology known as email!

Anyway, we still call each other "Oldgirl" to this very day.. We probably use it a million times when we talk. It's very strange for us to call each other by our real names.

Lame isn't it? I know it is. But it was US. It was our complex thing, doggonit!!!

So Oldgirl#2, one of the Original Oldgirls, I just want to give you a special shout out and let you know I'm thinking of you! I've been trying to call you up in Baton Rouge, but the phone lines are jammed, and I haven't been able to get through. I know you're okay because you've been reading my blog and leaving comments...

I thought about you when I was driving home from work on Friday afternoon. I heard one of your FAVORITE songs on the radio. You loved your country music, being that you were from Oklahoma and all, but you started hanging around me and quickly began liking some of that booty club Miami and Southern bass music, didn't you Oldgirl?

You remember this????

Come on baby... Kick them daisies
Look at them girls with the daisy dukes on...

(I want cha to)
Look at them girls with the daisy dukes on...

(Everybody)
Look at them girls with the daisy dukes on...
(I want cha to)
Look at them girls with the daisy dukes on...

You use to lose your freaking mind when this song came on the radio!!!!

I swear, this had to be the lamest song in the world. I laughed out loud when I heard it the other day. You use to love it. And you use to love that "Wiggle, Wiggle, Wiggle" song too. Geez!!!

So Olgirl#2, just wanted you to know that I was thinking of you. I wanted to give you a little throw back to our grad school days. I miss you. And I miss our B&B (Bitch and Beer) Tuesdays at Jaggers Pub.

There was nothing better than sitting around crying in our beer, was there?

So take care, Oldgirl...

Ladylee

The September 11, 2001 World Trade Center Tragedy...I Remember

The people of my parents generation have always said, "I remember exactly were I was when Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot" or "I remember where I was when John F. Kennedy was shot."

And people of my generation have said "I remember where I was when Marvin Gaye was shot."

And the people of my generation now have an additional "I remember" moment. ...

"I remember where I was the morning the terrorists attacked the World Trade Center."

I clearly remember where I was on that sunny and bright Tuesday morning of September 11, 2001.

My job, which I'd just begun three weeks prior to that day, had sent me to Denver, Colorado to a Regulatory Science training course. I'd arrived from Atlanta that Sunday, September 9th, and was to stay the entire week. Early that Tuesday morning, I'd arrived to class in a conference room in the lobby of the hotel about five minutes late. I'd been upstairs in my hotel room dealing with a nose bleed. I was having trouble adjusting to the high altitude.

One of the instructors was finishing up a special announcement. I caught the tail end of it. He was saying something to the effect of "We'll keep you posted on the situation in New York."

I didn't ask anyone what was going on. I knew there was a hurricane swirling somewhere off the upper east coast, and I remember thinking to myself "Damn, that hurricane has hit New York!"

Class went on for a couple of hours until it was time for a break. The lead instructor got up and made another announcement...

"The World Trade Center Twin Towers have collapsed. They've been destroyed. They're gone."

Again, I remember thinking, "A hurricane destroyed the twin towers?"

During our fifteen minute break time, I went to the hotel bar. I remembered that it had a big screen television. I asked the bartender what was going on. He said that some airplanes had hit the World Trade Center.

I remember wondering how and why would some little crop dusters fly into the World Trade Center? But after watching the footage over and over during my break, I quickly realized that those were no crop dusters. They were huge airplanes. I was shocked and horrified. Just like everyone else in the country probably was.

I returned to class. The lead instructor said that if we had anyone in New York that we needed to check on, we had permission to go and make calls. No one left. We continued with our class.

I remember spending my lunchtime and most of the evening hours after class watching the news, not believing what I was seeing and hearing. Terrorists had brought down the World Trade Center Twin Towers.

That next day in class, the instructor said that if anyone wanted to leave, then they could leave. How could we leave, though? All air traffic was halted. Someone said that rental cars were not available. And two Amtrak trains had collided one state over in Utah, so train service was temporarily halted.

We were all stuck. We decided to continue the class. So I was in Denver the rest of the week, still trying to adjust to the higher altitude, fighting with my nosebleeds and constant dry mouth.

And also trying to adjust to the fact that terrorists had attacked the USA.

I called worried family members to let them know I was alright. I also called my new boss to let her know I was okay. People in class were struck with a fear of flying back to their homes, but I decided to just pray about it and have a little faith.

The class ended one day early because some of the instructors couldn't make it to the class due to flight cancellations. I left Denver that Friday. I wasn't afraid to fly because I'd spent the week praying and thanking God in advance for a safe trip home. So my faith was high. My flight was only two hours delayed, but it went smoothly. I must say, though, I was more than happy to see Atlanta again.

So today, September 11, 2005, I take time to remember one of the most tragic events in our country's history. I say a prayer for the families of the victims of one of the most tragic events in American history. This day has to be terribly hard on them.

And most of all, I hope and pray that terrorists will never strike our country again...

Never, ever again.

100 Days... Still Missing.

100 days...

102 days to be exact.

And no one has seen or heard from Natalee Holloway.

Now, I know you're like, "Doggonit LadyLee, why the heck are you talking about Natalee Holloway?"

It's definitely not to make a desperate plea for you to call 1-800-... if you've seen her. Nothing like that.

Afterall, we've heard enough of that haven't we? We don't need the 800 number shoved down our throats once again, do we...

I know I don't.

This missing persons case was, I don't know... bizarre. It was quite strange to see that Aruban officials had to be forced to make the search for Natalee Holloway a priority. You see how they send out the calvary in the USA when a young pretty white woman disappears. In our beloved country, the authorities respond to reports of a young pretty missing white woman faster than authorities respond to national disasters. (Humph!!!). Heck, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought that Natalee Holloway was a missing poor young black girl in Aruba! Thank goodness for her mother's tenacity!

But something disturbed me about this case. If you can remember, Natalee was last seen on May 30, 2005 getting into a car with three guys: A young dutchman by the name of Joran van der Sloot and two Surinamese brothers, Deepak and Satish Kalpoe.

Stop right there. She was last seen getting into a car with three dudes...

Hmm... Last seen getting into a car with three dudes.

Hmm.... Who last saw her get into a car with three dudes?

Her homegirls, that's who. Her friends.

That kind of pissed me off...

I remember being 18 at one time. Hell, I was a wild girl from the ages of approximately 18-25. Just out there.

Don't gasp. Just think back to your days when you were just "out there":

Twerking it out.

But gee... I don't ever remember getting into a car, on USA soil even, with three dudes in the middle of the night that I'd met at a club. I don't care if I'd been partying with them all week. It wasn't even going down!

Why?

How can I say this as nicely as possible. Umm... Let's see.

...Because that meant a train was pulling into the station real soon, if you catch my drift.

And even worse, how can your homegirls let you jump in a car with three men?

What kind of friends were those?

You know the old saying. The rap group Whodini said it best in their song "Friends"...

"With friends like these, you don't need enemies!"

That just pisses me off.

Sure, I have friends that have left a club with a man. You best believe she was checking back in with somebody. Me personally, I haven't. I'm a little too scary for that. Give me your phone or beeper number and we'll hook up later when I can somehow feel comfortable that you are not some crazed serial killer or an ax murderer. That was my way of doing things back then. Even then, I'm calling up a friend and letting them know all kinds of info just in case I show up missing. I mean, we thought about that type of stuff.

I thought about my friends. I was the youngster in the crew back then, in the late 80's/early 90's. My friends would never have let me get into a car with three strange fellows. NEVER.

They're saying "Oh, they probably slipped her a date rape drug..." That's even worse. Her friends sat by and let her leave, in a supposedly drunken state with three strange guys. In a foreign country, no less.

Several times, I asked my best friend Lady Tee what she thought of the whole scenario. She said, "Girl, she's probably been doing that type of stuff on the regular, and her friends were like 'See ya later, Natalee!'."

I shiver at the thought.

So now she's missing. No let's just say it. She may no longer be with us.

The whole island of Aruba was turned upside down. Landfills were searched. A pond was drained. Duct tape containing hairs was examined. Two African-Aruban men were falsely accused. (That's when I knew something foul was going on. When two black men were arrested and held as suspects.)

Fast forward... present time. The cameras are now gone. Beth Holloway, Natalee's mother, left the island this past Monday. Joran van der Sloot left for college in Holland this week. The Kalpoe brothers are free to do their thing...

The media has got the hell on... Natalee is no where to be found. Looks like everyone has given up.

Now I am hoping an "Elizabeth Smart" moment happens, where Natalee is reunited with her family. No one should ever lose a child. It has to be just horrible. It's just not right. It leaves mental and emotional scars that will never be erased. I hope she is found alive.

And I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of any one of those friends that watched her get in that car with those guys. The pain they must feel of being able to hold her back, but for whatever reason, allowing her to go with those guys... I just can't imagine it.

But you know what really disturbs me? Deep down? There are many black and latino women who have been reported missing or have been missing longer than Natalee Holloway.

And you know what?

I can't, for the life of me, remember any of their names.