Marital Mondays: Myshell Goes Bald …
I’m chopping it off. I’ve wavered. I’ve whimpered. I’ve whined about my hair and its drunken state. I’m ready for a much more low maintenance hair situation. Changing hairstyles every week is fun, but I’m too old for that shit and apparently my hair is, too. Speaking of old, about 10 strands are gray, so … I’ll need a plan for that as well.
Here’s the Twitter conversation that Hannibal and I had while I stood in front of the mirror with his clippers in one hand. He was at the laundromat that night.
I’ve since decided not to do such a drastic cut at first, but I’m pretty sure I’ll end up bald in the long run. My dad, by the way, is going to hate this. He cried when my sister got a short natural. Fun fact: I don’t care. He hated my locs when I had them and I kept them for seven years. I live for me, and I want to rub my big old bald head.
I tried out a few hairstyles in Photoshop. What say you?
I Know I Said Friday Was My Last Post, But …
With warm lentil soup, bread, great vibes, good people and a gang of children, our Kwanzaa celebration is off to a wonderful start. I know I said Friday was my last blog of the year, but today was the first gathering, and it was crunk! The children played, the adults caught up, we poured libations, lit the first candle, spoke about unity and then danced the night away. The best part is that we were done in time to get a good night of rest.
Tomorrow, we’re doing safety/earthquake planning and preparedness. The next day will be arts and crafts followed by two days of shows at Lula’s, Fuss’ birthday and a festive karamu on Saturday. I’ll be tired, but the smiles on the children’s faces make it all worth it. I’ll post the video tomorrow.
- Our Kwanzaa Table
- Mooch’s Kwanzaa Gifts
- Fuss’ Kwanzaa Gifts
- Pretty Bread Basket
- The Safest Kinara Ever
- Ile
- The Cooks
- Kid Clownin’
- Kids Eating
- The Happy Hosts
- Discussing Music
- Clownin’
- The Boys
- Mooch and Uncle Denzil
- Des and Garth
Marital Mondays: Why Aquarians Just Shouldn’t Play Board Games
After completing the Herculean task of scraping stuffing, cranberry sauce and soy cheese off of everyone’s plates and then putting the kids to sleep on ThanksTAKING, the adults decided to sit down for a relaxing game of Scrabble. In addition to sci-fi banter, jokes about penis and exchanging uncomfortable glances, we drank sparkling juice and slammed down those lettered tiles like Dominoes.
Hannibal always has to keep the Scrabble dictionary glued to his hand by way of his Nokia N900 (cell phone). He growls and snarls and scares all of our company away with his threats to “challenge that” and “look that up.” Unfortunately, Hannibal’s Scrabble rules and “acceptable words” are as outdated as the as a man wearing polka dot pants and watching Turner Classic movies on Beta. I try to ease the tension in the air with conversations about Obama’s nose hairs and such. Sometimes it works and sometimes I just make it worse.
Anyway after all that guarding and blocking and yelling at my friend about why google (the verb — not the proper noun) should never be entered into the Scrabble dictionary, and telling me that QI (“chi”) wouldn’t be in there because it’s Chinese (it *is* in there, by the way — see screen shot below) and XI wouldn’t be in there because it’s a Roman Numeral (it is), we found several vowel tiles in Hannibal’s lap at the end of the game. Cheating, Hannibal? Really? It’s just not that serious — unless there’s money on the game.
Workin’ Wednesdays: Family Work
This week, my work has primarily involved chauffeuring Mooch around. In addition to driving from Santa Monica to North Hollywood to Valley Village to Van Nuys, I also printed her headshots, stapled resumes, picked out clothes and chased down a work permit. Her Coogan account will be opened today. I promise.
Anyway, Mooch’s career hasn’t stopped mine. I’m still churning out web copy for the IABD conference and I designed business cards for Re-Run Vintage yesterday. Last night I also designed 2 banners and a poster, which will be sent to print Friday.
I cooked a full meal last night, which was surprising given how exhausted I was from having the very busy Fuss strapped to me all day. I wonder if we’re in the car too much for her. It seems like she should be on the floor more, but I digress. After dinner, Hannibal gave Fuss her bath and we did homework and cuddle time with Mooch. She’s always got awesome school stories for Hannibal. I hear them in the car, so when she’s telling him, it’s my second time hearing them.
Once she was tucked in, Hannibal and I did side-by-side computer work, which we find very romantic in this 21st century. Of course, my wife work followed, and I hardly consider that part work.
Marital Mondays: How to Be a Better Husband or a Douche Bag
I was browsing the internet searching for blog inspiration when I stumbled upon The Better Husband Blog. It’s a blog full of tips on how to be a better husband. I read a few of them and realized that Hannibal already does most of them. That made me happy. Then I asked him what his tip would be and his answer reminded me that though he does most of these things, he’s still a douche bag. Here’s how the conversation went.
M: Honey, what’s a tip you could give to other husbands to make them better.
H: I don’t know.
M: *sigh* Come on, Hannibal. If you’re doing most of this stuff already, you must be some kind of husband guru or something.
H: I don’t know, baby. I can’t come up with something that fast.
M: You have a degree in English!
H: A degree. Not a turbo brain.
M: Well, you paid $30,000 a year for college. The least they could have done was sped up your sagacity.
H: Myshell, what do you want from me here?
M: I want a tip!
H: Oh, I’ll give you the tip. *chuckle*
M: (frown)
H: What do you care? You’re not a husband. Fine. Being a better husband means being a better father.
M: That’s awful.
H: I thought you were looking for heartwarming!
M: We’re not heartwarming. We’re kooks!
H: Okay, my tip is: Don’t leave empty containers and bottles in the refrigerator.
M: That’s not your tip. I just fussed at you about that tonight!
H: I know. Now I’m sharing it with all the brothers out there.
M: But you didn’t know it already! You just learned it!
H: I ain’t ask you all that.
M: Could you just give a good tip — your *own* tip?!
H: Baby, almost all my tips are based on things you say, because you’re such a good instructor. You know yourself so well and you’re expressive.
M: Awww, that’s so sweet, Hannibal. *blush*
H: smiling
M: Wait, did you just use a tip on me?
H: Either that or I was patronizing you. It’s hard to tell.


















































