Friday After Next is the best Christmas Movie Ever… Let’s Fight.

Before 2002, we would be fighting over A Christmas Story. Because, prior to 2002, A Christmas Story was the best Christmas movie ever. They fought about it on All Def Digital, so I won’t go into particulars. I will however, bring you back to 2005. The year I got my first, very own, weapon of mass destruction (of cans and wild animal)… My BB Gun. Wrapped up. Hidden behind the couch. From my Daddie. In the same way Ralphie got his… FOR MILLIONS OF YEARS I asked for a gun. Like not to protect myself, because I am a single lady living in the world and I’m glad I got my girls… No, because my family is country, I’m country, and I wanna shoot things. It gives me the glads. And what you know about those glad texts, hunh? Cause, Bible.

http://www.mediastinger.com/friday-after-next-2002-after-the-credits/

Anyway, A Christmas Story reigned supreme, until along came Friday After Next. Yall, there are so many reasons which I will enumerate and alphabetize, but the real one is this…

We ain’t kids no more. I mean, I am children, but I’m not a kid. You see the difference? I eat cereal and watch cartoons on Saturday mornings, but I also work 40 to 60 hour weeks and get an annual W-2, so I’m not a kid. I know Santa isn’t real (now). I mean I should have known (then), because Santa’s handwriting looked suspiciously like my Mother’s, but she was a good liar and said that Santa drops the gifts off but the parents have to wrap them. And, we always got stuff that was on the what I look like/ain’t nobody buying that list…so I was maybe a year or so tardy to the he ain’t real party.

These days I get group text messages wishing me a Merry Christmas, and/or Happy Holidays from the #SAPros being all inclusive and whatnot. You know what else I get? To go to work the next damn day. Or use my PTO that I accrued to have the ‘itis a while longer. Oh, and the privilege to pay $600 to $800 for flights. Or spin off the highway driving to/from Christmas. Arent’cha just filled with joy like good ole Saint Nick?

Nope. Your Christmas holiday sounds like Craig & Day Day’s Friday (after next).

12. Did we even know that Friday was in December? If we did, I didn’t. Which makes Friday After Next all the more majestic. Your favorite Christmas movie is likely set in a place with crappy winter weather. Mine is set in California. You don’t know the difference between December, April, or June, cause that Cali sunshine is out ALL THE 12 MONTHS OF THE CALENDAR YEAR. It’s amazing. But uh, don’t move here. We don’t have no mo’ room. Not that you could afford it tho. Honestly, we really can’t afford it. But still don’t come.

C. C is for Cousins…because Black Twitter already meme’d what it feels like when you’re reunited with your cousin(s) for the holidays, so I won't do what they mastered in meme. While Craig and Day Day were in the same city, there is something special about the brother/sister like bond that you have with your cousins. That relationship is everything. Who else can you make fun of your parents with if your siblings aren’t around, if you have them at all? Friday After Next accidently highlights an important familial bond. I live for hanging with my cousins, family game nights, and the time that Aunt J lost her Black Card #revoked, and D-Bo was hella funny taking it from her!

c. D-Bo – and we even got a D-Bo in our family so this movie/series is all the more magical!

1^st or 15^th. Craig and Day Day had real problems… Christmas doesn’t make the rent or PG&E being due go away. They were at work trying to figure out some real life ish. Be honest, how many Christmas’ as an adult, did you have to make some life altering decisions? Newsflash: YOU’RE MAKING THEM RIGHT NOW. You make the long drive home (a 1,000+ miles) but you realize while stuffing your face with a stolen sweet potato pie that you have to drive them all back, in inclement weather, with a more severe and inclement bank balance because you and your favorite cousins LIVED…and direct deposit didn’t hit the account. Oh, just me?

U. U is for Uncle…cause we all have a cool Uncle Elroy, specifically an Uncle with a special life situation. In this case, my man was dating Sugar, dropped her, and got with the younger sister, Cookie. C’mon now. You already know the dinner conversation: Hey Unc, who that is? That’s [insert name here] *snickers under his breath* …her SISTER. *aunties in the kitchen* You know that fool ain’t neva been ish, he gonna catch something… Just nasty… Girl, you know that’s the last one’s sister. Well no wonder she didn’t answer me, I called her by her sister’s name! *laughter and communal sipping of spiked tea*

10. Issa Poorty, and it gets cracking right around 10pm. For Craig and Day Day, it was a kick back to pay the rent. For me and my house, it’s a turn up at Uncle Tommy’s. Or down at the Post. Fried Fish. Dominoes. Catching Up. Music. Clowin’ around. Remember when… How they doin… You still talk to so and so? Remember last year when yall lost?! Run it back! Yall, one time I kicked it so hard, I woke up in one of the beds in not my house to the smell of breakfast. I have no recollection of how... Best. Night. Ever. The party might look a little different for you and yours, but the feeling is the same.

2. Something happens…at the family dinner, major celebratory event, or in Craig and Day Day’s case, their rent party – which doubled as a celebration of the return of Damon from jail – because someone’s always returning from somewhere, or redeeming their lives from a brink of something #WontHeDoIt #OhYesHeWill. There was a happenstance bathroom meeting with Damon and a magically delicious lucky charm. We even got a live performance of the nut cracker #TheRemix. And the turn up continued…

∞. Because some of you use the Lifetime cinematic equation to compute an official Christmas Movie, Friday After Next includes the necessary variables. There's a Santa. The presents are returned. You even get a tree that doubles as a bat. Donna makes snow on the storefront windows. There are carolers. You even get a happy ending where Craig gets the girl…though, he gets the girl at the end of all the movies. So he’s kinda practicing to be Uncle Elroy in the future. Which means the cycle will continue. Family traditions are preserved. The days future come are saved.

Solange (my baby sister) & Beyonté (me) will have a virtual panty party this Christmas season. Solange will probably be sporting a very fashionable headdress (get you one!). I’ll be wearing the silk scarf Uglee got me from the hair store in Gardena when we were black baby bruins. We will both, however, be sporting our very best sleeping panties, cackling whilst repeating every line to Friday After Next. Cause, it’s not small in here… You’re just big in here.

Honorable mentions include Trading Places, Die Hard I & II, A Huey Freeman Christmas (The Boondocks),This Christmas (c’mon now, it’s Idris…), and Nothing like the Holidays (I really just want some coquito...like, lo necesito ahora por favor) .

Merry Chri’mah Nucka! From Pinky & Teezy Nucka!

Also, just in case I wasn’t clear – don’t come to California. We full. Our cup runneth over. Stay in your winter. Remember how much you like seasons.

That Beautiful Sound #AllWeHaveBeenGranted

I learned this week that a woman who was like another mother is no longer in this land that we live in. Her body will soon press that dying pillow my Daddie was talking about, and her soul is crossing Jordan’s river…making that pilgrimage home.

And I feel some type of way about it.

There are so many memories of that woman. She worked alongside my mother for many years at Ravenswood City School District. I can remember calling that office line as a little girl from Willow Oaks School, and years later as a litte(r) grown(er) girl from Westwood. And anytime my Mommie couldn’t answer, she was there telling me when she’d be back, or giving me permission to stay afterschool, or reminding me of what my Mommie already said I couldn’t do. #HowDoTheyAlwaysKnow #iTriedHer #itDidntWork #MyVillageWasHellaStrongTho

I did exactly what she said. I trusted her every word like it was attached to the umbilical cord that once bound me to my sustenance. Like I would disobey her? Yea, okay.

When I got the news of her passing, I called my Grandmother to let her know. I then called my parents, as they are miles and miles away and wouldn’t get the news. When my Daddie didn’t answer, I sent a text message so at least they would have the information in real time. He replied with his condolences. I revealed my sadness, something I never do with my Daddie. And he, knowing the importance of that, shared words with me that I once gave him as he laid in a hospital bed months and months ago, God always knows what’s best. *insert tears here*

I’m a lot like Robert Langdon. I would have given him the same answer. I’m an academic (too), so I know very well that I will never understand God. My mind says it, and I believe that. My heart tells me that I am not meant to understand. But what of my faith? It is a gift that I have received, unlike the Professor, but I don’t know that I’ve opened it all the way. Because there are days like this that I cannot seem to understand. #thesearesnippetsofmyAngelsAndDemons

And that was supposed to send me to a deep, dark place. Because when things like this happen, that’s where those of us who have yet to open up our faith all the way go. Two things happened though.

A rememory. I came out to California in April of 2013 for an interview. I spent part of that time at Church with my Granny. Because if you know Dorothy Neil (don’t tell her I told yall her name) then you know that if you’re in town visiting, you need to be in service with her, on that pew, 3 rows from the back. As I sat next to granny, I was behind that woman. We were singing the congregational hymns. I was singing the hymn directly behind her. Now I know I cannot sing. This is a gift that remains not only unopened, but um, I haven’t quite gotten it yet. I think it got lost in the mail.

...what y'all hear when I sing.

She turned around, before seeing, that sound came from me, and said, Where is that beautiful sound coming from? So, obviously, I turned around to see where that sound was coming from, right? So I could tell her. I knew exactly who I was standing behind, but she could not have known that I was behind her.

As I came into view her face lit up. She was so happy to see me, and I was like Surprise! Much like my road trips, I show up in places and shock people…cause its fun. Anyway, she hugged me and loved on me a little during the service, then a little more afterward. Like a mommie does a daughter, even when she isn’t the mommie, and you aren’t the daughter. If you close your eyes, the love feels that way.

...what she hears.

I’ve often thought about that moment, because when it comes to my singing, this is clearly a genetic gift from my Daddie. Not a single person ever has said anything to me, in the way of I like your singing. Because they believe in telling the truth. And the truth hurts. And I stand in that pain gracefully. But why her? What did she hear that no other person in this world hears?

Me. She heard me. The voice of someone she loved as her own. And there was so much time between the last time she heard that voice, until that moment, that she only heard beautiful things. She heard me sing, and everything about that, even the sound....was beautiful.

A reminder. On the day I got the news of her passing, I decided to sit. Sit in my home all day. Alone. Not so much to cry, or grieve, or anything like that. I just couldn’t fathom the thought of being around anyone. I could have made it successfully through the work day. One of my talents is keeping the deep things of me deep. However, I could have also snapped the F off on the first person to say a cross word about anything. And because I know I fall somewhere on the deep end of the crazy spectrum, I decided it was best for all of us for me to not attend Monday.

A really tall girlfriend of mine decided she wanted to see if I had grown any since the last time she was here. So she did what any person would do. Put on heels, thus making herself taller, to give the appearance that I didn’t grow at all. #JustHateful LOL

She wanted to bring me a box. A purple box. OMG! This box is everything. I actually would have been totally happy with just a box, because it’s adorable and the right color. But the weight was off. And because science, I opened it. It has the prettiest turquoise lining and stuffing, and a book. The book has beautiful words and reflections to remind me of all the love the Lord put in the world for me. To remind that me that my journey, on days like this where I see only 1 set of footprints in my life, He is carrying me through it. Why is that so easy to forget to remember? Of all the promise keepers, He is the best one.

The words she spoke to me and the words she wrote to me still bring actual tears to my eyes. To be told of the kind and beautiful things I did for her (not on purpose and with no effort at all), things that she was doing for me in that moment and did not know… There are lots of reasons people come up with to not believe in the divine power of God. But for all of those reasons, there was that day she knocked on my door with a purple, unevenly weighted box. None of those reasons explain the divine happening of that.

On a day that the Lord retired one of His best soldiers, He dispatched another one, to save a broken one. I often take for granted all I have been granted.

Denzel's Redemption #2GunsRevisited

…and with that Denzel, you’re redeemed. #ItsWasHerAllAlong #iapologize #InMyAnitaBakerVoice #rememberhersittinginthatchairtho

Remember when I told the internets about that time that I had a really dumb idea which included staying up hella late and watching 2 Guns? The night before the Double Road Race? Yea, that night.

A particular line in the movie stuck with me. Stung me. And it just so happened to be about that thing, that always seems to get me. Love. And all the feelings like it, right. Whatever they mean.

It's never what is seems, hunh?

She asked a simple question to a man who in kind honestly replied. With his intentions. Of everything he was, and was not, he really did mean to love her. How about that, right? He gets partial credit. #justlikeIwroteitmyself #ikindadid #royalties

I kinda sorta, actually stopped watching the movie at that moment. I mean, once you say a thing like that, there really isn’t anything else left to say. Or watch. Right?

Fast forward months later to me flipping the channels to what movie? 2 Mutha F’n Guns Yo! Right around the same place I stopped watching it. And it seems that time has reconciled my feelings for Denzel and the person responsible for writing that line long enough for curiosity to capture my attention.

And I saw the movie to the end. But before we got to the happy ending, Denzel and Paula are together once again. Well on the phone with each other. He finally knows the truth of it. How she deceived him. Set him up. Intentionally intended on HIS demise. She really meant to love him. But didn’t. #thedarkconofwoman

Lots of things happened to me in that moment. Did I really love him? Or did I just mean to? Was I the one masterminding the charade? The Puppeteer?  These are real questions, right? I mean, if we are going to objectively figure this thing :::::that has absolutely NO closure::::: out, we must consider more than one possibility. How else could have Dag & Mia’s murder beensolved? #thegirlthatplayedwithfire #OhLisbeth

But we know the answer. We know what the investigation will turn up. And there’s one piece of evidence missing that confirms that answer for you.

I was left with nothing. I had no back-up plan. I didn’t prepare for what I got. What I did prepare for never happened. Which is actually a proverb, or a quote or something I read in a Keep Calm book. What we worry about never happens. It’s always what we didn’t expect.

Now don’t go feeling all sorrowful for me. It’s actually terribly stupid to not plan for it – especially in these days and times. Geez, in days when the tenure of a marriage is documented in HOURS, you gotta believe that people will invoke their inner Keyshia Cole and change their mind.

This is where I mess up with heart affairs...and the things like them. I’m too unwilling to deceive (not in a bad way, more like a heart preservation kind of thing) and very willing to forgive, to let it go, to be Denzel on the other line.

Crazy part? When it comes to love, and the affairs like it, I never easily believe – I’m always a skeptic in the beginning. Once I’m convinced, I am persuaded like none other. I believe it. I believe you mean it. And that settles it. Of the things that have changed and/or evolved over time concerning me, this particular thing has not. And I am not sure that it will.

I am never going to figure chess out, but I like guns.

*face palm*

Denzel & I Are Breaking Up #NoooImNotReadyLawd

There was a time when Denzel Washington could say ANYTHING to me and I would pledge my allegiance to his sweat. Well, that was up until December 22, 2013. Who knew there would be one fictional response (even after he was Detective Alonzo Harris & Frank Lucas) that would change my unwavering allegiance to his body excrement?

I was watching 2 Guns when I should have been resting for the Pleasanton Double Road Race. In a scene, it happened:

her: Did you ever really love me?

him: I really meant to love you.

And, there came a few real tears. Ain’t that some sh*t? Try watching a movie, having a private emotional moment, and your friend sitting across from you on the couch. And all these years I have loved Denzel. Who knew this day would come?

...and that's what it means.

She asked an imaginary question that has been burning in my actual spirit for quite some time. A question that I have wanted to ask with a desperation only known to men traversing deserts in search for water and Alchemy. I want to know if he ever really loved me.

I could just ask. It’s not like I don’t have the phone number, email, address, or social media everything to do it. Damn technology – it would have been nice to have an excuse NOT to ask. I could ask, and then I would know. I would really know. But, something tells me his response is going to mirror Denzel’s line. And quite frankly, I have no time for what that might really do to me.

He pursued me. I think I could accept that response if he did not pursue me. With stealth like commitment he shot me down over foreign land #NoPassport #NoExtraditionTreaty #LoveLand. He got to know me and pursued in ways that compelled my heart to love him, especially his flaws. I loved his imperfections first…then I (im)perfectly loved him. I honestly love(d) him. And honestly believed he loved me.

He knew me. And not because I told him who I was…hell, I don’t always know who I am! He studied my non verbal responses, my awkward phone silence and impeccably worded text messages. He decoded my sad eyes, sad songs and sad smiles. I think that I could deal with that answer if he was absent in my sadness.

He wrote me. Well, there is indeed that. Like I need to explain to you what words mean to me. Or what I would or wouldn’t believe if it wasn’t written (or typed).

He gave to me. Without asking, requests or begging, he gave to me. Liberally. Willingly. Surprisingly. As I sit and think, much time passed before I ever asked anything of him – I mean I made requests but never in excess or seriously. I never intended for him to do anything for me that I wouldn’t actually do for myself. He gave to me anyway. On purpose. Most times before I could do it for myself. That response would make (im)perfect sense if he never gave me anything. But, he gave her sunflowers too, so I guess there isn’t much to the giving thing. (there is, but I’m feeling some kind of way right now)

And though I clearly don’t have this all figured out, the question remains. The answer does too… Maybe he honestly meant to. And maybe one day that will be okay. Just not today.

Welp.

Needless to say, I have not seen the end of 2 Guns.

Random Thought: Does 2 Chainz have 2 Guns? 

*don't ask me where that came from, that was my honest thought, and the original title of this post*