Muffin Tops. SMH…

Good Evening! I hope everyone is doing well. I haven’t made a random post in a while, but since some of my family and friends are “on me” about a particular habit of mine, I thought I’d blog about it. They want to see if anyone else will be annoyed by this “habit” of mine. 😩

Let me start off by saying I can’t help it. This writer and blogger has her quirks and I’m not afraid to admit it.

Whenever this writer / blogger eats muffins, I only eat the top part of the muffin. Yes, I only eat the muffin top and throw the rest away. I’ve always done that because to me, the bottom part of the muffin is dry and not that sweet. 🤷🏾‍♀️💆🏾‍♀️

Whenever I’m about to eat a muffin around certain family or friends, they’ll blurt out, “Nita don’t you do it. Don’t you dare do it.”, but I have to do it. I don’t like the bottoms of muffins. 😭😂😭

The muffin top is the best part of the muffin in my opinion and it’s the only part of the muffin I will eat. If that annoys you, I’m sorry. 😲 If you are ever around me when I’m eating a muffin, look away because there’s a pretty good chance it’ll look a lot like this when I’m done. 🙃

Until next time…

Donyale Luna (Updated)

I was reading an article on the late Donyale Luna and because I was taken aback by it, I decided to blog about it.

Donyale Luna, born Peggy Ann Freeman, is largely dubbed as the first Black supermodel. At 6’2, she was beautiful and hard to miss because she always stood out from the crowd.

Peggy, also known as Donyale, seemed to be a troubled woman when it came to her identity. She lied about being Black for years and often lied about having a large amount of Native American and Mexican ancestry. I remember shaking my head as I was reading this article because its quite obvious that she was a Black woman.

When Donyale soon realized that her strong African ancestry couldn’t be denied, she began to make up stories that she had very little African ancestry and was mulatta. How sad that this woman had so much of self-hate that she couldn’t even acknowledge being Black. It makes me wonder if she had some type of mental issue. I can’t help but to feel sorry for her.

There are pictures of Donyale wearing contacts and makeup that was lighter than her skin. She did that in an effort to make herself more appealing or exotic. I hate to say it, but it made her look absolutely ridiculous.

Donyale’s family has said she had issues with her identity and considering the period of time she was born in, I suspect she hated being Black. Her own family has admitted that she desperately sought the approval and acceptance of White people. Maybe she believed if she was mixed or made herself seem to be mixed, she would be accepted by White people. What a sad way to waste a life.

Its unfortunate that Donyale lived her life as a lie all because she wanted to be accepted, loved and respected by White people. If that’s not sad, I don’t know what is. A life wasted.

Until next time…

Books And a Bit of Research

As I’m preparing to write my next novel, I decided to do some research on a few more of my relatives. I never have to look far for inspiration or storylines because my relatives, my ancestors had very interesting lives.

When I put in my book descriptions, inspired by true life events, I mean just that. These are events that happened in real life to my people, my ancestors, my relatives. These aren’t things that I dreamt up out of my imagination. These things really did happen.

One such relative I had the pleasure of discovering more about was my other Grandfather. I never got the chance to meet him, but I heard so much about him. I could remember hearing stories how he was tall, dark, good-lookin’ and born in the late 1800’s. The trouble with that is no one knew the exact year he was born.

Do you know what I did? I did some digging.

Turns out, this Grandfather of mine was in fact born in the 1800’s, 1883 to be exact! How incredible is that? This 80’s baby has one Grandfather that was born in 1919 and the other Grandfather was born in 1883. To see it on paper made a world of difference to me. It made it real.

This discovery however is a little bitter sweet because I had to remember (once again) that my Grandfather’s parents were born as a slaves. Keep in mind that on June 19, 1865, the last of the remaining slaves in Texas were freed. It takes my breath away knowing that my Grandfather was born 18 years after the last remaining slaves were freed and 20 years after the Emancipation Proclamation.

How’s that for a family discovery.

Until next time…

Shelving It For Now

I love it when readers, bloggers and authors suggest good books to read. Its absolutely wonderful because you get introduced to books that you probably would have never read if the book hadn’t of been suggested to you.

I had a book that a reader thought I’d be interested in and it’s a book by the late Harriet Ann Jacobs. When I saw the title of the book, I knew it would be a slave narrative because those are always intriguing and inspiring to read. Autobiographies are always a good read.

I don’t want to give too much of the story away in case there may be some readers interested in reading it, but Incidents In The Life Of A Slave Girl tells the story of how Harriet’s de facto slave master, Dr. James Norcom, began sexually harassing her as a child on up into adulthood. The things he did to her in retaliation because she refused his advances were sexually deviant, sickening and beyond cruel. So much so that she eventually runs away.

His wife, Mary Matilda, knew how sexually deviant he was because he had fathered 11 children from several other young female slaves that he owned. Yet, she turned a blind eye to his behavior and took her anger and jealousy out on Harriet. Sadly, this was not uncommon during the terrible era of slavery.

In the hopes of trying to deter James Norcom’s advances, Harriet takes up with another White man who was also pursuing her, attorney Samuel Tredwell Sawyer. That relationship was formed out of desperation by Harriet because she had hoped it would take her away from James Norcom.

I’m going to shelve this book for now because there are elements of this story that is a little too close to home for me. On one particular side of my family, I have a line of relatives and a Grandparent who were all products of a racist and prejudiced interracial relationship. A sad unfortunate fact that even they themselves were ashamed of. How sad because they nor their mother had a choice. Just terrible…

I’m not saying that I’ll never finish this book because I most definitely will, but I’m going to shelve it for now and read it at a later time. My blood was boiling a little too much with this one.

Until next time…

Bastard Out of Carolina

Bastard Out of Carolina is one of the most disturbing and depressing movies I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen four other movies that were three times more heartbreaking than Bastard Out of Carolina so that says a lot.

Bastard Out of Carolina is based on the award-winning novel by Dorothy Allison. It tells the harrowing true story of Dorothy, also known as Bone, as she recounts living through poverty and the frequent rape and abuse by her mother’s boyfriend.

I saw the movie years ago and I can still remember being angry at her mother for allowing her boyfriend to rape and abuse Dorothy. I hate to say it, but her mother was a gutter trash urchin. Female sub-human filth. A poor excuse for a mother.

A real mother would’ve had that pedophile and rapist thrown in jail or worse.

One of these days, I’m going to read this incredible book because I feel the book itself will offer so much more. As a rule, I always like to read the book first and then watch the movie, but when this book was first published, I was just a child. The movie was made some years later.

If you’ve never seen Bastard Out of Carolina, don’t watch it unless you can truly handle it. It’s not a movie for the faint of heart. I feel it’s only right to warn you. With that being said, it’s so nice to see that Dorothy was still able to find happiness after suffering through so much of abuse as a child.

Until next time…

Worth the Read

As a writer and blogger, I think its pretty obvious that I enjoy writing. Reading, however, is one of my favorite pass times. Reading, in my opinion, is good for the mind because it helps to keep the mind fluid and sharp. Reading also adds color and depth to our world while at the same time enriching our lives.

Even though I’m about to start writing my third novel, I’m itching to read another biography. Whose biography am I referring to? Claudette Colvin.

Many credit Rosa Parks for jump starting the bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama and in a way, she did. If it wasn’t for Rosa Parks working as a secretary for the NAACP at that time, she probably wouldn’t have received the amount of recognition she did.

We can’t take away the fact that Rosa’s position at the NAACP helped to change the horrible busing conditions for so many Black Americans in the South. With that being said, I think it’s unfair to credit Rosa Parks as the first Black female to do it.

Rosa Parks wasn’t the first Black female in Montgomery, Alabama to refuse to give up her seat to a White passenger. A brave fifteen year old girl by the name of Claudette Colvin was the first to do it.

Until next time…