I’m not a racist, I let white folks use my bathroom! I do, however, have a preference for people of color in certain situations, specifically Black folks. There are limits, of course. When given a choice on nearly everything, I don’t care who does it if it’s done well. I don’t go to Starbucks and wait for the Black barista to make my latte over anyone else who is equally qualified at foaming milk and stuff. I do like to have Black doctors, though. Maybe because I haven’t been exposed to many over the years. Perhaps it was too much Cliff Huxtable. Could be now that my friends are dentists, ophthalmologists, anesthesiologist and such, I like the idea even more. I don’t know. Moving to a new city, I’m having to re-up on my roster of health care providers. I’ll probably just break down and ask my friends or coworkers who they see and roll with their recommendations (an excellent way to find a provider, actually) but at present I’m asking around to see who knows a Black dentist, primary care physician and a gyn.
Wait… that last one, gynecologist… that’s a special category. While I wouldn’t mind having a Black FEMALE gyn, I cannot have a Black male. I said as much on Twitter a couple of days ago and I wasn’t able to fully articulate why I felt that way when asked. I don’t even know if I can get my feelings about it across right now but I’ll try (and fail). Continue reading
I used to have this cat named Tiggah (womp womp, yeah I know). Anyway, I got Tig when I was a junior in college and had this lil off campus apartment. At first my roommates were all like “that’s your cat so no one else is responsible for taking care of him”. I could understand that. However, after a little while, Tig began to grow on everyone who came around. He was so cute and I watched him grow from the little kitten I got from the shelter into a nice lil young adult cat. LOL. Then I eventually graduated from college and had plans on going away to Louisiana for law school (obvy I didn’t go there, but it’s a long story) and in the meantime I was moving around. I couldn’t really take Tig with me all around so I brought him to my Auntie’s crib and basically gave him to her. It worked out because she freakin loves Tig. LOVES him. Spoils him like nothing else. The one thing that bothers me though is that Tiggah is a fat cat.
Not fat cat like Garfield who is a comic/cartoon cat that talks to a dog and eats lasagna. Garfield is funny. Tiggah is a real cat who can develop diseases and die from obesity-related conditions. Tiggah is not funny. Ever watch Maury and see those parents whose 4 year old children are obese? The parents usually say that they have trouble telling their kids no or they want to provide their kids with everything they want. If those wants happen to be food, so be it. My aunt is like that. There are cat treats all over the place.
She and my uncle feed him all day long, wet food too. When I had Tig, I tried to balance his wet and dry food intake. Why? Well he loved the wet food and would gobble it all up. He’d eat it if it was there, even if he wasn’t hungry. but the dry food, he liked okay but you knew it wasn’t his fave. He’d only eat that when he had to eat SOMEthing. Here, in addition to the dry food being out all the time, new cans of wet food are popped open all day and treats are given out. It irks me so much.
You’d think I’d be upset because Tiggah used to be my cat and now he’s this fat hairball who can barely jump up on the window sill. No. I’m upset because I see the treatment of the cat as an extension of how my aunt and uncle view food themselves. Both of them are overweight. I should probably note that they’re brother and sister, not husband/wife. Anyway, my aunt suffers from a ton of problems with her back and joints that she could likely relieve should she lose some weight. My uncle has been diagnosed as a diabetic but still eats like food is going extinct. I probably wrote about this before, but I am prejudiced against overweight people. I can’t help it. It doesn’t make sense to me to KNOW you’re ill because of your size and continue to do nothing about it. Now granted, I understand that there are a lot of psychological issues and some biological issues behind overeating. I know because I can identify some of those psych issues in my aunt pretty easily. I’m just saying. Continue reading
National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day is Tuesday, March 10th.
It’s a nationwide initiative to raise awareness of the increasing impact of HIV/AIDS on women & girls and encourages us to take action. While progress has definitely been made in the areas of AIDS prevention and treatment, women still represent 27% of all new AIDS diagnoses, with African-American women accounting for 66% of that group.
In observance of this day, two wonderful bloggers, Karyn and Luvvie came up with the idea of The Red Pump Project. So Bourgie Adventures is rockin’ the Red Pump to celebrate and recognize the strength and courage of women fighting HIV/AIDS or affected by the disease both directly and indirectly.
I remember that one episode of South Park where Cartman thought he had AIDS but no one cared because AIDS was “so retro” and everyone was concerned with cancer. Well I certainly don’t want to diminish cancer but HIV/AIDS is not “retro”, the whooping cough is. HIV/AIDS is still going strong. Look:
*HIV is the 5th leading cause of death in women in the United States, ages 25-44
*High-risk heterosexual contact is the source of 80% of these newly diagnosed infections in women
*From the beginning of the epidemic through 2005, almost 86,000 women have died of AIDS and AIDS-related complications.
*The largest number of HIV/AIDS diagnoses during recent years was for women aged 15–39 – Stats from CDC.gov
Yo. That last stat really gives you some perspective. Ages 15-39. That’s me, my friends and my sisters. Let’s not lose sight of reality, okay?
Please check out WomensHealth.Gov for info about National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day. Also feel free to post this information on your blog as well!
Swiped from The Curvature, Cara writes about limited condom access at CVS stores. We’ve all seen condoms locked up behind the counter or out in the aisle somewhere. Like Cara says, I don’t buy condoms at places I need to ask permission to get inside the case. It’s a rubber, not the Hope Diamond! Anyway, it sucks but it’s not hard to believe that communities of color are getting hit with the lockup more so than others. Read the blog below and then click the link at the bottom to make your voice heard on the issue: Continue reading
At least some cultures would believe that I can do more than the rest of you mere mortals. Why? Because I have a Preauricular Sinus. WTF, you say? In laymen’s terms I have a hole in my ear. No, silly. Not the hole that you stuff with cotton-tipped sticks to nearly assault your eardrum. No, not the hole you got after letting someone with a high school education approach your head with a pressurized “gun.” It’s a benign congenital malformation.
Basically, just a tiny little hole that you can miss if you’re not looking right at the spot where the top of my ear meets my head. Preauricular Sinus.
This thing serves absolutely no purpose. It’s just a genetic thing. I’ve noticed one on my mom. I noticed one on my boy just this weekend. Truthfully, sometimes the darn thing itches. Still, I’m better off than some folks with holes in their ears. Preauricular Sinuses can become infected and cause pain all the way down to your jaw. Ouch. Continue reading
Continued from Pt. I
I am an adult. I know other adults. I know adult women who are still afraid to talk about their periods. O RLY? I always say that if someone doesn’t realize that you, a grown ass, pre-menopausal woman, sheds her uterine lining every 28 days, well then there’s something wrong with THEM. What is the big freaking deal?
Of course when I was younger I tried to hide the fact that I was on my period. As mentioned in Part I, I didn’t really have anyone sit down and talk to me about my period. I certainly didn’t have any empowering messages related to me. Everything we saw and heard told us that it was imperative we conceal our menses or else risk alienating every man around us and opening ourselves up to ridicule. You can’t deny that women (including young girls) are expected to uphold a sexualized ideal for men, which includes hiding the most boring, ordinary and non-sexual facts of life, i.e. using the bathroom, farting, body hair removal, applying or removing make-up. On top of all of that, you’ve got to conceal your period because since many folks do not have sex when a woman is menstruating, that time directly contradicts a sexualized ideal for men. Oh boy, not only has the feminine products industry done a number on us, but we’ve got the overarching patriarchal society imposing shame on women. Great! Continue reading
“We bleed blue” is a common sentiment espoused by Tar Heel fans. If you check this blog with any regularity, you know that I bleed bluer than a chainsaw massacre at Smurf Village. Other than that (and the occasional reference to nobility), “blue blood” just makes me think of those silly feminine hygiene commercials that use the thin blue liquid to compare absorbencies. As thoughts in my head tend to jump from one to the next rather quickly, I started to think about my disdain for the feminine hygiene industry.
The so-called feminine hygiene industry is so freaking insulting to me. The whole business is predicated on society’s belief that women are nasty, dirty beings who need to be secreted away and disinfected. So much could be said about this. People write their theses on the subject. Books sit in libraries and on Barnes & Noble shelves on the issue. There’s a documented history of how the industry contributes to the warping of the female mind, particularly the impressionable minds of young girls. I can’t and will not go into all of that here. Instead, I’ll just focus on a couple of points relating to one’s period: Cleanliness (part I) and Secrecy (part II). Continue reading