The Oscars are coming!

And I’ve only seen HALF of the Oscar Best Picture nominated films.
Never fear! This weekend, I’ll be somewhere watching the ones I haven’t seen draped
across somebody’s couch while wrestling my water bottle and lollipops from greedy baby hands.
#naughtybabies #theyARETOOidentical #yesIusehashtagsinemails #DEAL

So today’s fact is kind of a gimme. BUT. TODAY’S FACT is also a two-fer.
Because last night I couldn’t sleep. And because I didn’t sleep, my brain isn’t really working the way it should.
Which I guess isn’t saying much, because… HI.

*ahem* In 1963, Sir Sidney Poitier (said with requisite French accent) became the first black person to win an Academy Award for Best Actor. This fact is not to be confused with Ms. Hattie McDaniel, who was the first black person to EVER win an Academy Award. Which is almost 40 years (38 to be exact) before another black person won an award. Not to say they weren’t nominated, but yannow. Close only counts in shit fights and horse shoes (and hand grenades!)

Relatedly, I’m saying all this to say that black people have come a long way in the moving picture industry. When Hattie McDaniel won her award, she sat at a segregated table and came in a side entrance because you know…RACISTS. These days we can come right up the red carpet with the rest of the (white) people! Still not winning lots of awards because…Hollywood. I mean, MAYBE I’m exaggerating. But. The first black person to WIN a screenplay Academy Award won it in 2009. The first person to be nominated was in 1972. I’m pretty sure that black people have written screenplays that have been adapted to awesome ass movies worthy of critical acclaim and celebration.

In all honesty, I’m just waiting for a time when black people aren’t being labeled THE FIRST. Because all that really does is point out how many places we’ve been excluded and are finally getting a foot in the door. I guess I’m waiting for the time when black people aren’t still coming, because we’re already here.

And speaking of coming, here’s today’s two-fer. Also a FIRST. I’m not sorry that I’m not sorry at all. It’s totally safe for work.

Happy Monday!


I don’t just have ridiculous conversations with other people…

I have them with my husband too.

In order to get anything that The Man has stored in the garage, I have to submit a request to “Supply”. Yes. *HE* is Supply. So, in case you were thinking I’m the only ridiculous person in this relationship, you were wrong. SO VERY WRONG.

Anyways, my prima asked to borrow some chairs the day before her jewelry party. I sent an e-mail to Supply because I figured it would be easier. It was not.

Dear Supply, Prima is having a jewelry party tomorrow and wants to know if she can have a few extra chairs for me to take over. Do I need to submit a handwritten request or can I submit an electronic one?

Dear Briya,Thank you for inquiring about chairs availability. You didn’t ask if we had chairs available, you just assumed. In your request, please ask for availability. ALSO: It has been brought to the attention of supply, that you still have an item checked out. Please ensure, that you return all previously checked out items, before asking for more stuff.

AND? Please submit request in writing.

Dear Supply, Are there chairs available for use tomorrow afternoon for a jewelry party? ALSO: My fekking suitcase is by the door waiting on your ass to put it away.

Dear Briya, your tone is out of place.

Dear Supply, You started it.

Dear Briya, I do believe we talked about last minute supply request and the charge.

Dear Supply, I got the request today, which is why I wanted to submit it ELECTRONICALLY.

Dear Briya, Please ensure that supply receives a paper request for items, as we need to keep records of issued items. Supply will be closing today at 3:15pm. If you have not returned your last borrowed item by the time you read this, your supply account will be suspended for 2 weeks.

Dear Supply, That’s BS! I don’t even get home until 8 tonight.

Dear Briya, Supply is closed.

Dear Supply, You SUCK.

Dear Briya, SO.


I forward my e-mail to Prima with a comment: I’ll call you when I get the chairs tomorrow. Supply is being a jerkface.




Because we could all use a change of subject…

How about a look into my family tree?

My Dad has 2 girls and 2 boys.
And only the girls had boys.
And the boys (BOY, actually. Only one of my brothers has kids) have girls.
Also, the girls are done having kids.
So I guess it’s on the boys to make us sommore of my surname.

Really, just my baby brother. Because I’m pretty sure that if my little brother tries again for a boy he’ll probably have TWINS that will also be girls for his trouble.

This has nothing to do with anything except for the fact that today’s my Daddy’s Birthday!

And what better way to commemorate my Dad’s birthday than with a Black History Fact of The Day (BHFOTD)?

On THIS day in 1862, Ida B Wells was born a slave in Holly Springs, Mississippi just before President Abraham Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. Wells-Barnett became a prolific social activist and champion for the right of African-Americans. She was also a founding member of the NAACP.

In March 1892 a white mob invaded her friends’ (Thomas Moss, Calvin McDowell, and Henry Stewart) store because was seen as competitive with a white-owned grocery store across the street. During the altercation, three white men were shot and injured. Moss, McDowell, and Stewart were arrested and jailed. A large lynch mob stormed the jail and killed the three men.

The murder drove Wells to research and document lynchings and their causes. She began investigative journalism, looking at the charges given for the murders. She officially started her anti-lynching campaign. She spoke on the issue at various black women’s clubs, and raised more than $500 to investigate lynchings and publish her results. Wells found that blacks were lynched for such reasons as failing to pay debts, not appearing to give way to whites, competing with whites economically, being drunk in public, walking down the street with a pack of skittles and an iced tea (WAIT. WHAT?). She published her findings in a pamphlet entitled “Southern Horrors: Lynch Laws in All Its Phases.”

Wells received much support from other social activists and her fellow clubwomen. In his response to her article in the Free Speech, Frederick Douglass expressed approval of her work: “You have done your people and mine a service…What a revelation of existing conditions your writing has been for me.” (Freedman, 1994). Wells took her anti-lynching campaign to Europe with the help of many supporters. In 1896, Wells founded the National Association of Colored Women, and also founded the National Afro-American Council. Wells formed the Women’s Era Club, the first civic organization for African-American women. This later was named the Ida B. Wells Club, in honor of its founder.

Wells spent the latter thirty years of her life in Chicago working on urban reform. She also raised her family and worked on her autobiography. After her retirement, Wells wrote her autobiography, Crusade for Justice (1928).

She never finished it; the book ends in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of a word. Wells died of uremia (kidney failure) in Chicago on March 25, 1931, at the age of sixty-eight.

An aside: I know I said we could all use a change of subject. I mean I changed it right? We’re talking about a lady who chose to expose lynchings of her people in a time where it was pretty much acceptable to do to people whatever they wanted because even though black people were free they were still considered insignificant and not really people, so what’s the big damn deal because it’s not like people aren’t still killing black folks with no consequence, right? has the same birthday as my Daddy.



Real conversations I have at work

So I have this co-worker who is FOREVER coming up to me with the most off the wall things to say to me. I continuously smart ass him, because I want him to go away.

Only. He won’t.

So today….

CW: I’m nicer to you than you are to me.
Me: Well. I’m not nice.
CW: You’re not?
Me: Nope. I’m really sort of an a**hole.
CW: Do your friends think that?
Me: Yes.
CW: Are your friends also a**holes?
Me: YES.
Me: …..
CW: Well, you’re too cute to be an a**hole.
Me: NOT TRUE! I can be an a**hole because I’m cute.
CW: huh.
Me: *blinks*
CW: finally walks away.

Keep trying fella. I stay ready with smart remarks. #jerks2013

So my husband says I park like an asshole

This weekend, my cousin and I went shoe shopping (and prom dress shopping and to lunch) at the mall.

One of the local-ish malls is kinda big. And always ridiculously crowded.

And OF COURSE, even when the mall is ridiculously crowded there is always *that asshole* who is taking up two parking spaces because fuck you, that’s why.

photo (5)

That blue car? Is me. Why am I parked SO FUCKING FAR to the left? Because originally that stupid red car was parked in both parking spots.

You know how you drive around in circles looking for ONE DAMN PARKING SPOT for what seems like all of your life, and then you get all excited because OMG! A PARKING SPACE!! Only to find that some asshole is hogging an extra space for no fucking reason at all?

I was tired of looking for a parking space, and it was almost noon and I hadn’t had breakfast and I had just passed the “I could eat” stage and was rapidly approaching the I’M STARVING point. I just said FUCK THIS SHIT, and I’m parking in this spot anyways, even if it meant I had to climb out of my trunk.



And so I sit there and wait for him to realize he won’t be able to get out because *THAT* is how close I parked to his door. Also, he was 100 years old, and probably woulda broke a hip trying to climb out the other side.

So he moved his car so that he was parked properly in his parking space and was able to get out on the driver’s side, while I laughed maniacally with my windows rolled down so he could hear me*.

And then I got out and spent the rest of the day shopping for shoes. And prom dresses. And matching clutches. And wishing that I’d had more booze for lunch. Because I wasn’t quite ready to see my babygirl looking quite so grown up in her prom dress.


*But what I didn’t do, was adjust MY parking situation. So I apologize to the white truck who probably got back to his car and was like WHY IN THE ALL OF THE FUCKS IS THIS PERSON PARKED SO GODDAMN CLOSE?

**The reason is because I actually had plenty of space to get out, so it didn’t occur to me to re-position my car.

***Also, I guess my husband is right. I *DO* park like an asshole. But sometimes it comes in handy!




I’m often not paying attention when people are talking to me…

Valet guy: Necesita cambio?
Me: Yep.
Valet guy: Cuanto?
Me: 14 bucks.

Valet guy: En espanol, por favor.
Me: …..?
Valet guy: you’re answering me. So say it in Spanish.
(I would like y’all to know that I didn’t realize he was speaking in Spanish)

Me: huh. Catorce.

And that’s how I got busted by the Valet guy.

(The only bonus is that I don’t have to listen to them talk about my ass like they were doing yesterday)
(FYI: apparently, it’s spectacular)

Happy Monday!

You know how people don’t like to share the elevator?

SO. This broad tries to run for the elevator
And hit the button like she doesn’t see people headed for it..
AND she stands in the corner so she couldn’t reach the button to open the doors
(I’m also guessing she was hoping nobody saw her)
Which she clearly wasn’t.

So I made a dash for the elevator
AND got on
AND THEN held the elevator for everybody else
(Which was only 3 more people)
AND THEN… I laughed at her when she got off with an attitude.

Sometimes the best way to improve my mood is to ruin somebody else’s. I know. People won’t usually admit to it. But I will. Because I’m a jerk.