The Chronicles of a VBG (Voluptuous Brown Gurl)

Whenever I start a post, I'm never quite sure if  I want the cyber world privy to my innermost thoughts. Even though my blog visits are up quite a bit over the last 3 months, it is still not widely read and I think most of the posts that actually get read are by friends and family.  Thank you dear readers, from the bottom of my voluptuous brown heart.  I wonder do readers think it's all TMI? Is it even relevant? Do you read it and say "she's definitely a few brown eggs short of a dozen" or does it make you laugh or think more deeply about your own experiences? Personally this blog serves as an extension of my journal for me. Writing keeps me sane - always has, probably always will. As I've said before I tend to be pretty introspective and rather than viewing my last post with a "Lawd they done me wrong!" focus and hanging up a Man Haters Club sign a la The Little Rascals, I'm choosing to look at myself because I am nobody's victim and h...

I hate waiting.  I’ve said before patience is not my virtue and Lord knows that’s as true at 45 as it ever was. I especially hate waiting for a man to call me.  I guess I’m a bit old fashioned but I prefer that a man make the first call.   Maybe I should change that but men are naturally hunters and courting is a bit of a game. Problem is I seem to attract more than my share of those who are just playin ’  – you know, the kind who enthusiastically says he’ll call and then doesn’t or does...3 months later like we just talked yesterday.  Granted I’m not just sitting by the phone twiddling my thumbs, I have a very full life and schedule but  if we want to end the way we begin then keeping one’s word is the best way to ensure there will be something worth beginning. This Mocha eye candy is Ghanaian actor Van Vicker. Despite seeming contrary to natural laws, I don’t easily attract the attention of my fellow mocha peeps. So I tend (like mos...

So far on this blog I've pondered men, working, wines, my quest to be a "real" athlete and my dear departed Dad.  It occurred to me the other day as I was contemplating this first anniversary post (YEAH ME!) that I've said precious little about a most blaringly obvious topic - my wunderkind. I always knew I wanted to be a mother even as a little girl playing with dolls. As a pre-teen I even chose her name. Hollywood legend Rita Hayworth gave it to her daughter first and I've loved it ever since. While other men might have had a problem with my choice being too exotic or ethnic, my ex-husband hailed from North Africa were it is a popular, pleasant name. In fact, it was the only name we  could agree on! Her conception (a complete surprise), gestation and birth were an absolute breeze though the only hiccups being 16 days overdue and a delivery via Cesarean section. I also envisioned myself with three kids. As an only child, I thought there was some unwritten...