New Campaign: Michelle Obama For...Michelle Obama

"you know the things that i am afraid of/i'm not afraid to tell/and if we ever leave a legacy/it's that we loved each other well..."--Indigo Girls

Fact: I love Michelle Obama. Luuuurve her. Obsessively watch and read her interviews and realize I've been smiling the entire time once I finish. I adore her firm-but-easygoing approach to life, love, motherhood, and politics. Her brand of honesty and realism is unparalleled by any of her FLOTUS predecessors. And her Rock Mom steez is sublime. She makes it look easy, all while reminding us that it's hard as nails. She's smart as a whip, articulate but relatable, funny as hell, and refreshingly normal. She wears short shorts to walk the dog outside on the White House lawn for God's sake. There is virtually nobody in the public eye I admire more. But read my lips: I would not vote for Michelle Obama for President of the United States.

It's not a Black thing. There are a number of Black folks I'd vote for--her husband was one of them. It's not a woman thing. I'd vote for Hillary in a New York minute if she ran again. Now, I'd never vote for Sarah Palin, but it's not because she's a woman, it's because she's a sick, sad joke the MMM and Tea-Baggers are playing on the country. To be sure, I don't equate Michelle with Sarah. I wouldn't vote for Sarah because she's an annoyingly plucky climber, whom I'm quite sure could have a serious conversation with a rhino and it would walk away feeling dumber. Former President George W. wants to give Sarah a few points off of his IQ. No, Michelle is not of that class. There are much better reasons why President Michelle Obama would not work for me.

1. Michelle is a mother. A really good mother. And feeling a vested interest in Malia and Sasha's success as young women, I want her to continue to be a good mother. This is actually a two-sided negative because a) the Presidency could take Michelle's attention from the girls, which would be a travesty, or b) it could not take her attention from the girls, which is the more probable reality. I could definitely see a GW Bush-reading-to-kindergarten-class-during-9-11 moment with Michelle, a national disaster, and her children. Michelle would be just as unapologetic as Bush, too. Her official statement would probably be: "My first priority is these girls."

2. Michelle is too street. She peeps game and isn't afraid to call it out. Classily, of course, but call it out nonetheless. She's now mastered political correctness, as she's had to in the past few years, but as President she just might snap. As First Lady, she has the ability to check her emotions because she's not expected to be the initial reactor. As President, Michelle might show her ass. And I would love it, but I would hate the criticism of her that followed.

3. Barack would be a terrible FGOTUS. Barack is a brilliant man--and of late, I'm less displeased with him than I've been in some time, but everyone must admit that he, in the poignant words of Nas "love the attention". Barack isn't a bimbo, but he is a poster boy--he doesn't play second fiddle very well. Of course, that's one of the main reasons that he won the presidency, but standing by and not offering opinions and solutions publicly would be like an appendectomy without anesthesia for our Jerry McGuire-esque President.

4. Michelle is an amazing First Lady. I wouldn't want her image to be tainted by the inevitable stress, strain, tough decisions, bad decisions, and BS that comes with being President. I want to remember her as she is now: a highly effective public figure with a winning personality.

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Guest Post: 12 Red Flags of A NIC

"as i head for the door i turn around to be sure/did i shave my legs for this?"--Deana Carter

My very good, longtime friend, a brilliant writer and ad exec in Chicago, should be married by now. She should at least have a serious boyfriend. Not that there's anything wrong with not being married or having a serious boyfriend, but if anybody deserves and commands a good man, it's her. Smart, beautiful, spiritual, highly educated, hard-working, fun, funny, cultured, real, supportive, and cool. But of course, like so many other smart, beautiful Black (and not-Black) professional women, she is Single. Capital "S" single. And consequently, she is forced to [gulp] "date". Quotation mark "date".

She recently went on one of these "dates", and I'm honored that she thought enough of my lil' ole blog to document the hilarious sad-but-true tale for the rest of us in BICland. Her date was a classic DIC, so DIC that the "D" had to be replaced. You have to feel her. Her story, "12 Red Flags of a NIC", can be enjoyed in full after the jump.

I am not a conceited person. I am very attractive and very tired of guys who think that complimenting my hair, my smile or my boots are enough to make me hand over my number. So it was refreshing to hear a simple comment like, “Sounds like you had a good day”, from behind said as I crossed the street. In my mind I thought,"The least I could do is respond." So I turned and faced a guy – modestly attractive, not like my crush who sends my smile into overdrive, but still in the middle of the spectrum of attractiveness. So we chat which ultimately turns into a one-way phone number exchange. Three days later, he calls and we have another pretty decent conversation and he asks me out to dinner...

So let’s skip all of the hoopla and get right to the date (and the red flags). I meet him at the train station (it’s a public transportation kind of city) and we walk to a Thai restaurant. It’s decent, located on a main street but not much traffic inside. The waiter puts down two menus and an additional “$5 daily special menu”. Red Flag #1: The boy only looks at the $5 menu and then excuses himself. I on the other hand look at both menus and inevitably settle on the safe Pad Thai (because not every Thai restaurant is a good one). He orders an ice water and something from the $5 holla. So he asks, “Who is your favorite musician?” My mind draws a blank, I mean anyone who knows me KNOWS it’s T.I., but I decide that I will hide my crazy, lustful obsession of my little convict til I know this man better. I say, “Umm, I don’t know. What about you?” Red Flag #2: Damn near jumping from his seat, he says, "Maxwell." Let’s pause for the cause; I know guys dig our former afro-ed crooner but never in all my years have I had a man luv Max the way this boy does. He even started singing Lifetime and Fortunate at the table.

So I interrupt and say I also like 90's music. Red Flag #3: He responds, “Oh yeah, me too! Man, Tevin Campbell…” (and breaks into his rendition of Can We Talk). The conversation continues with him (in his mind and visually) thinking 'this girl is perfect, we are perfect,' while my mind wanders to the project I have due for work tomorrow. Speaking of work (Red Flags #4-7), during the course of the conversation his career changed 4 times: when I met him he said he was in advertising sales, then later it became I work at a call center, but I’m only there to save money to go to school in Florida for physical therapy, which later became, I really want to be an actor and move to LA.

So the bill has been sitting on the table, awkwardly for about 20 minutes now. Finally he says we should go. He hesitates then pulls out his wallet. Now, I know I will get flack for this but at this point I know how this non-date is going so I say, “Are you treating me?” as I go to get my wallet. Red Flag #8: He says, “Awkward!” in his best “Men on Films" In Living Color reference-voice. Red Flag #9: He says women only gesture for their wallets to make it look like they will pay, not because they really want to. I said, “Oh no sweetheart, I don’t do anything for show" and then put my $7 down on the table. Red Flag #10: Folks, let’s pause again: the total bill was only like $12 so really…you do the math on this guy. So then he says "You can pay if you want, it’s up to you." I do pay. Then the waitress says something about not being able to do both cash and card (he was using plastic) so he tells her to put it all on his card, then he picks up my money and (Red Flag #11) says, “Should I keep this?” I said "you know what, you go right ahead." He even had the audacity to say that he will always take care of his girlfriend and she will never have to pay a mortgage, car note, etc. (as he’s putting my money in his pocket.) Anyway, the next thing he does is serenade me with his own spoken word poetry for 10 – 15 minutes! As one friend put it, “Don’t you just hate that Love Jones has messed brothers up, got them thinking they can all win a girl over with poetry.” LMAO! This boy was no Darius (pun intended).

I go home (just a polite hug) and my chariot (aka the city bus) whisks me away from that disaster. He calls me, says he made it home, wants to know when we will see each other again. I say, "I’ll call you Saturday" but the more I thought about that date, the more I dreaded communicating with him again. Red Flag #12: He didn’t give me a chance to call him on Saturday. He called me in the morning. I didn’t answer. He called again 8 hours later. I didn’t answer. Three minutes after his last call he sends me a text: "Whateva, I c y you’ve been single since 2004. Peace u flake!” And so ladies, those are the 12 Red Flags of an N.I.C..

--Naturally Twisted (J. Taurin Williams)

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Unemployed BIC

"let the river run/let all the dreamers/wake the nation/come the new jerusalem..." -Carly Simon

Through a series of confusing events, as of Tuesday, February 2, I am now jobless. Although I'd grown to despise my rather impossible, frustrating, taxing job and found that it was becoming a mutant, maniacal source of a different brand of BIC, I was shocked to be unceremoniously fired on Tuesday. Misconduct? No. Not giving it 100%? Not quite. Being labeled a liability in a ridiculous lawsuit my former employer initiated against my current employer like a three year-old brat? Check.

I'm using this time and opportunity to do three things: a) revel in the benefits of unemployment and the clarity it can bring if you're prudent, b) stay up late once again since I don't have to get up at 7:45 AM, and c) rant about disgusting, corrupt cretins with Napoleon complexes...and complexes about God knows what else.

It's been quite a long time since I was jobless. The last time was two years ago; I was 26 and returning to the workforce after a gallant-but-unsuccessful stab at business ownership. I gave the business a year and blood, sweat, and tears--literally. As a sidenote (and a testament and *testimony* that you never know why certain things happen but can come to be so glad they did): it's fortunate that I learned the process of getting unemployment funds, because it's going to come in handy now.

I'm far less devastated than most people assume I am, simply because I'm prepared. I've also been through enough to know that everything that looks bad from the outside can be the source of your biggest blessings. As it stands right now, I clearly hear God saying that I'm being granted time to focus on the really important things in my life. I have a way of making a job my everything, one of my biggest flaws. It's unfortunate in the Waiting to Exhale-esque sense that a job can't keep you warm at night, but it's also unfortunate when your job isn't going the way you want it to go. When despite your best efforts, the business you're running isn't reaching the success you were hoping it would, and daily, nonsensical "bad luck" occurrences keep popping up professionally for you and your colleagues. In a climate like that, a perfectionist Virgo like me can start to go a bit mad. And mad I was indeed going.

While I was pissed with the termination--the reason for which was outlined in the letter I was faxed from my boss' attorney (I've still heard nothing from him, another potent annoyance) as "claims made by _____________ (my former employer)"--I felt an enormous weight off of my shoulders as I walked out of the door of my office 30 minutes later. The sun was a bit brighter, the air was a bit fresher (if that's possible in LA), and the world seemed quite a bit bigger. No more nights in the office until 11PM. No more harrassing phone calls from disgruntled vendors, not one more long conversation with prospective clients with zero intention of retaining our services. I was free to live my life again. And that alone is a blessing.

I'm 28 years old--20 months from being 30, in fact. And life is short; I've been acutely aware of this for the vast majority of mine. It should be grabbed by the horns and ridden like the rabid bull it is. Perhaps because I'm older and increasingly in touch with who I am, this time I'm being careful about my next steps. Who I am is a woman with a colorful vocabulary and creative writing skills I want to use as much as possible. A woman who hears music all the time, even when there's nothing playing. A woman who likes to wear three different nail polish colors on my hands and a totally different one on my feet (I make it hot, though, trust!). A woman who cuts all of her hair off and eight weeks later is at the beauty supply buying some of her length back--maybe in another color. I'm a free-spirit, but the older I get, the more shrewd I get with my Bohemian nature. I finally learned to channel it in a productive way. And it's for this reason that I'm looking up and not down following my major life change this week. It's time for me to start living my life again, for me and not for anyone else.

I realize that not all of this makes perfect sense, but I suppose I'm trying to make more sense of out everything at this time, too. The bottom line is that BIC is back, for real this time. Not saying I'll be posting every day--I've learned my lesson about those kind of claims--but with more of a life and far more colors in the life I'm living, I'll have much more to post. And not celebrity gossip crap--that's all over the web. I want to talk about the things I used to talk about on here: the search for self, fulfillment, and of course, love. Please stay tuned.

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I'm Back Bitches!

"im talkin bout how i used to love it when you whispered to me/tell me that you love me and those beautiful things/baby won't you come back cuz i'm really in need..."--Mariah Carey

So, I've decided that the thoughts running through my head are entirely too looney tunes to not be sharing them with like-minded broads. Taking inventory, there is absolutely no reason an attractive, single woman who encounters nothing but losers shouldn't be sharing her trials and tribulations with the masses. That said, I'm upping my posting game. I know you guys miss me--especially when I still get at least 50 unique visitors a month to a site that is hardly ever updated--and I miss you, too. And so my vow is that you will hear from me far more often, at least several times a week. Hope you're glad to have me back like i'm glad to have you! Smooches...

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Baby Love

"as long as you're happy/i'm happy too/it's a delight/I gave you life..."--Amel Larrieux

Now *this* is what I call the real picture of a mother's love. Coming out in your red lipstick and sheer sleeves and throwing up the "Roc" sign for your daughter's husband. Have to love Miss Tina.

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Daily BIC: Pissed Press

"you should think twice/about the way you been talkin to me..."--Destiny's Child

I absolutely love the smell of fresh BIC in the morning. I'm *so* late, but I absolutely could not let one more day pass without blessing my blog about crazy women with this wonderful clip of our Secretary of State snapping her neck at an unsuspecting African reporter. This is the stuff BIC is made of. I do this for moments like this one. And I truly love Hillary Clinton. She's just so effing reliable. I adore the little touches in her BIC--the mussed hair, the tired eyes, the "are you serious!?" look she gave the kid, coupled with her "Cita"-style flop back against her chair after she said her piece...in the words of Carrie Bradshaw: "it's too good!". It's just too good.

Video after the jump.

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Lesbian BIC

"woman to woman..."--Shirley Murdock

"I'm done with the man thing. You need to move on in life." Wish it was that easy!

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DIC Report

"****** is crazy baby/don't forget that boy told ya..."--Jay-Z

The Passion of Mel Gibson [People]

Should Something "Green" Be This Controversial? [HuffPost]

Hopefully This Won't Turn Into Kate Plus Eight Minus One [People]

Keith Lewis Needs To Be Slapped [HuffPost]

Please Show Me A Man Who Can Act Right [TMZ]

There Comes A Time When Arm Curls With A Barbell Are More Important Than Arm Curls With A Fork. I'm Just Saying. [Bossip]

Yup...Still A Tool [HuffPost]

It Takes A Real Loser To Worsen Opinion Of Yourself With Silence [WSJ]

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BIC Report

"and the girls go crazy..."--R. Kelly

Crazy Horse Bonnie Fuller Strikes Again [HuffPost]

Happy Mother's Day [YBF]

Ummm...Kirstie? Maybe...Maybe Not. [People]

Hillary Spices It Up [HuffPost]

Elizabeth Edwards Thinks The Other Woman Is Pathetic [NYDaily]

Jenna Bush Watch Out: Chelsea's Dad Is Way More Popular [Boston]

A Day Late And A Dollar Short [Bossip]

Performance BIC [Bossip]

Once A Fatty, Always A Fatty [People]

R.I.P. Golden BIC [People]

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Put That Ice Cream Down

"why's your back mo bigga than the usual/lil mama why you so fat/how long did it take that thang to grow..."--Trey Songz

A word to the wise: It matters not how much he hurt you--you will only be hurting your wallet if your relationship makes you spiral into morbid obesity (and you know who you are!). United Airlines is taking a hard line on this by taking some drastic measures that I personally find both hilarious and necessary. All the 'big-bone-ded' folks who can't buckle the belt in their seats, or worse, spill into yours, will either be asked to purchase an extra seat or to 'walk it out' to their destination. Tough break. But I know this will have me running a little faster on the treadmill in the morning...who wants to risk being asked to step off the plane because of the size of their ass? Which begs another question--what about the 'sistas' who aren't really fat, but whose asses are out of control?? As my father always says, "we'll see, said the blind man..."

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Daily DIC: Good DIC/Bad DIC

"****** is crazy baby/don't forget that boy told you..."--Jay-Z

Good DIC is sticking up for your friends when the whole world is laughing at them.

Bad DIC is asking another man to marry you in front of the whole world.

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BIC Report

"and the girls go crazy..."--R. Kelly

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree [People]

Open Marriage Schmariage [RTE]

Good Thing Jay's Behind A Desk [Jezebel]

Why Does It Seem Like Her Tune Has Changed? [HuffPost]

How Much Classier Is Padma Than Paris? [Huffpost]

BIC On A Stick And No One Can Wait [NYPost]

Little Late For The Pistol...And No One Believes You, Either [NYDaily]

Charlotte, Yes. Miranda? Ehhh..Ok. Carrie? Nooooooo.... [JustJared]

2009 Initiative: Stop Waiting Years To Tell Someone "You're The Father!" [UsWeekly]

Scary Republican Lady M.B. Is Back In Effect [TPMDC]

Kim K Gets My Vote For Not Giving A Damn [People]

More BIC after the jump...

Beyonce's Waist Is 19 Inches... [Bossip]

...And Glad To See Someone Else Thinks That's A Lie [MediaTakeout]

"Do You Like It? It's Spanx!" [Jezebel]

Keri *Is* Studying Her Haters [Bossip]

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Daily BIC: Single Asians

"all the single asians/all the single asians..."--Mixed Company of Yale 

These girls spent precious time that could have been spent studying:

Memorizing the choreography to the "Single Ladies" video.

Coming up with new, easier choreography that all of them could sensibly do.

Writing lyrics about slurping sushi (yulck!)....and all that jazz.

Locating a cameraman that wouldn't laugh at them...or would at least laugh with them instead.

Securing a studio in which to film.

Determining who was the 'strongest singer' [ole girl who sang the first verse was, I think, their best offering] and would thus open up, and further determining who was the 'strongest dancer' and would thus bring up the rear of the line.

Transposing their 'single asian' Ivy League-experience onto Beyonce's club anthem.

BIC

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Daily DIC: Unforgivable

"in tight jeans/chinese eyes/indian hair/black girl ass..."--Memphis Bleek

 

 It's possible that Diddy is still in character from A Raisin in the Sun because his attitude on color is purely 20th century. Although I'm sure he'll have an "explanation" for it, Diddy's having a casting call for a new Ciroc Vodka ad on Friday that specifically requests "white, hispanic, or light-skinned african-american" women. Apparently, no darkies need apply. And since everything Diddy does is about the almighty dollar and/or attention, there's little doubt that he feels tossing some chocolate chicks in the mix might hit his wallet--or his ego--too hard. Oh, it's fine to use your average gorgeous dark-skinned woman with a big, fat ass in tomfoolery like your club banger music videos--in which he never seems to lyrically leave the strip club--but in the fly, classy Ciroc ads with the Sinatra music and perfect lighting, he wants only the 'light, bright, and damn-near-white' to apply. As usual when dealing with Diddy, I'm offended as a Black woman. But what I'd be even more offended by is if he re-releases the casting call Yung Berg-style, asking for only dark-skinned women like we're all stupid. In the timeless words of Kat Williams, "Don't be sorry, ho, be careful!"

More evidence of Puff's color complex after the jump.

When Mr. Wonderful first debuted the name "Diddy", he made a video of the same name, featuring a pretty darker caramel-colored chick we were to assume was "Tondelea", the "hot girl" because "everybody wanted to slay her." Oh, but here's the kicker: sweet, brown Tondelea wasn't "fond of players." No, no, she only wanted "ballers to spoil her." In laymen's terms, Tondelea was a gold-digging groupie that would spread 'em wide for anyone driving a Bentley down "1-2-5 and St. Nick." And as Diddy instructs women to do in the vast majority of his songs, "Tondelea" shook her sweet, brown ass to the phat Pharrell beat, rubbed up against Diddy suggestively, and simulated an orgasm. Classy.

Around the same time, Diddy did a tender Hip-Hop Soul ballad that was widely assumed to be about his lost love, Jennifer Lopez. Featured in that video was a beautiful, yet certainly fair-skinned Eishia Brightwell. Rhyming about his lost love, Eishia spent the majority of the video swathed in blankets and in Diddy's arms being kissed and caressed. Then, more recently Diddy did a little ditty with Keyshia Cole by the name of "Last Night." Featured as his love interest in that video is racially-ambiguous redbone Dena Cali, whose absence tortures him as he tearfully abuses a larger-than-life wall hanging of her face. I know, I know. It always hurts to lose a good light-skinned chick.

Fast forward to this coming Friday, when yet again, the classy, sweet, beautiful visuals will be saved for not only light-skinned chicks, but White and Hispanic girls as well. Spit in our faces, pleeeeaase, Diddy! We don't mind! Even in the age of Michelle Obama, we'll accept you denying every opportunity to showcase the diversity of beauty of the Black woman. We'll accept you making us look small and divisive as a people, even though someone of your stature and clout could have made great strides in this area by now. No, we don't mind you selling us short. We'll drink your vodka and watch your MTV shows, accept you dropping the mother of three of your children for a racially-ambiguous 10 year-old whose first music video featured her fellating a random dude on grainy 33 mm, and we'll line up around the corner to be exploited in your music videos as money-grubbing strippers. We'll still love you and we'll still support you. Which, ironically, comes from ages of degradation just like your little casting call. But it's possible I'm just being a killjoy. So I guess all I can say is...cheers! BIC

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New Rule: Mandatory Racism Disclaimers

"my president is black/in fact he's half white/so if you got a racist mind you be aight..."--Jay-Z

I hold these truths to be self-evident: that there is currently an abundance of right-wing media

junkies with radically racist ideas masked as "political views." I have no problem with Ann Coulter, Tammy Bruce (who recently classified Michelle Obama as "trash" and Rush Limbaugh (who has consistently classified both President and Mrs. Obama as "angry") being radically racist, as they most certainly are. I just feel that it would be wisest and more comfortable for us all for them to out as racists. We live in America and it's 2009! People are open with their struggles in this age of psychotherapy and Dr. Phil (mutually exclusive, yes). Let's just be open with our prejudices! I think we'd all be shocked how much more understanding and open people are when we're just honest about who we truly are and how we feel...

Wouldn't you agree, Rush? Oh, I'm sorry--I'll wait while you take your pills...................................Better? Oh, sorry...................................................okay, you good? Great, okay, so listen: you seem like the type of guy who values honesty. So let's deal with some facts. You don't like Black people. You don't like Black Democrats and, exemplified in your recent scuffle with Michael Steele, you don't much care for Black Republicans, either. You probably adore Justice Clarence Thomas, but sorry, that's really not saying much. Rush, just be up front: you love your good, old-fashioned heartland White folks with their old-school, backwards ideas of progress, and their disdain for sharing any small portion of whatever wealth they've been able to accumulate with others. And that's okay! Everyone is entitled to their opinion, their likes and dislikes. It's just not right--and very unfair to those who have already valiantly outed themselves as hatemongers like our beloved countrymen Jesse Helms, Trent Lott, and David Duke --for you to go on pretending that your views are entrenched in your deep love for country and capitalism.

Oh, and Tammy. Really? You? You're so nationally insignificant that you had to hijack Laura Ingraham's radio program to get attention for your racism. And if your views were even the slightest bit important, you'd have had more of a voice during the election and wouldn't be finding yourself in this matrix-esque conundrum with this unbearable "trash" in the White House. Let this be a lesson for you moving forward: Carpe Diem. Life is short and there's so much hate to go around. Why wait? Declare it today! 

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BIC Report

"and the girls go crazy..."--R.Kelly

Say It With Me: "Shut Up, Camille" [Salon]

When Keeping It Real Goes Wrong: The Debbie Allen Edition (Far Left Of Pic) [BlackSnob]

Aww...First She Twittered Her Childbirth, Now She Twitters Her Stalking [Bossip]

Surely You Didn't Think It Was Her Idea [Slate]

Whoopi, Are You Trying To Fool Us Into Thinking You Care? [ContactMusic]

More BIC after the jump...

Don't Get Too Close To The Candles [Bossip]

Well...We Should Just Glad To See She Has A Song In Her Heart [ThatBlackGirl]

How Much Can You Not Stand Those Black Women? [Bossip]

Would You Abort Someone Else's Baby If You Could? [Slate]

Angela Davis Is Up To Her Old Tricks [Bossip]

Oh Sarah... [AnchorageDaily]

Does This Look Like An Heiress? [SignOnSanDiego]

I Feel Like Ellen Wrote This [HuffPost]

Apparently, The World Really Isn't Enough [HuffPost]

Go Off On Bush And Officially Out Yourself In One Fell Swoop[WWD]

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It Can't Stay This Good For Long

"just as Christ was a superstar/you stupid star/they'll hail you/then nail you/no matter who you are..."--Lauryn Hill

I know I'm just one among the throngs of Black American--hell, Black women internationally--thoroughly enjoying the laser attention and wild praise being lavished on the US' new First Lady, Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama. Even as Barack begins his first cycle of character skewering at the hands of the establishment, Michelle is not only being handled with kid gloves but is being all but french-kissed by the media. Yes, it's a wonderful thing to watch. I'm all about Mrs. Obama--never have I been so proud and so honored to be represented by someone and to have someone go before me in this manner. And although I ultimately found countless reasons to vote for Barack Obama, his better half was my very first reason for jumping into his camp. Michelle is everything I ever dreamed the first Black First Lady would and never thought she'd actually be. She's poised and articulate, authentic and genuine, stylish and self-deprecating, completely confident and utterly humble. She makes it look so easy when we all know it's anything but. She's an amazing and dedicated mother and wife, an educated professional,a tireless friend, daughter, sister and colleague, someone who takes life firmly by the reigns but never, ever too seriously. She is truly the embodiment of the long list of invaluable qualities about Black women, and I absolutely adore her. And yet, I cringe every time I pick up a paper or go online to find glowing commentary like this, this, or this. My heart just whispers "this cannot last for long"...

I genuinely think Michelle is in a class all by herself--never in my lifetime have we been privileged to employ a First Lady this amazingly fierce. Hillary Clinton came close, and I don't think for one minute she lacked one bit of the fire or juice Michelle has while her husband was in office. But it must be said that by virtue of Hillary's race--and the genuine disdain the Right had for her involvement in policy affairs, particularly her healthcare initiatives--she was far more widely despised, and ultimately muzzled. Michelle represents Black women, who do things a little differently. First of all, we're not easily silenced or easily offended by vilification, particularly once in a power position. We're used to being told to sit down and shut up, and we got real tired of acquiescing a long time ago. This has led to numerous watercooler-bound SNL and MadTV skits replete with shaking necks and snapping fingers, which inevitably spiraled into fundamental societal indoctrination. For the most historically oppressed of both the race and gender classifications, we know intimately what it's like to be on the bottom and we generally have little issue going back there for something we truly believe in. This is particularly applicable when we're in a solid power position (see Oprah's revolutionary ethnocentric evolution over the past five years). 

Whether anyone likes it or not, Michelle will be the First Lady of this country until at least 2013. And I believe that she will work her way up to some very important and poignant work in her role. Clearly, in fact, because she's already begun. And yet, though I sense that she really doesn't care much about public opinion after the ringer of a campaign that dragged her through the mud and labeled her an angry, emasculating, race-mongering terrorist, a bad mother and a worse wife, I am bracing myself for the windstorm turning of the tide that will inevitably hit her.

We know not the day nor the hour and we have no idea who will throw the first punch. But it is almost as certain as the sun will rise and go down again that at some point, the media's affair with Michelle's toned arms, brilliant parenting, garden-planting, and history-celebrating will cease and she will once again be subject to attacks for any little small thing she opts to do or say. I have faith that Michelle can take it, I just don't know if I can. After growing up in a world where myself and other young Black women were victims of random attacks and painful stereotypes, I want us to be able to settle comfortably into a life where we're seen internationally as elegant, intelligent, and progressive enough to transcend all the negativity and rise to the position of not only the spouse of the Leader of the Free World, but the Leader of the Free World, period. But there's a natural fear in getting too comfortable with that position. There's nothing as certain as death and taxes, but almost just as certain is the old adage "they'll hail you/then nail you." It's something of which anyone that's celebrated must be acutely aware: with the sunshine comes the rain. I am enjoying Michelle's--and by proxy, the Black American woman's--day in the sun, but I don't kid myself that the honeymoon will never end. Let a passing comment of Michelle's appear too "angry" or too "militant " and the Ann Coulters, Peggy Noonans, and even the Maureen Dowds of the world will take up arms and begin to throw spears again. And oddly, the only thing I can think of in response to that is the final lines of a letter that Star Jones wrote to Bill O'Reilly when he was shooting off the gun of his mouth in a blatant character assassination of Michelle during the Democratic primaries last year--"Be clear Bill O'Reilly: there will be no lynch party for that black woman. And this black woman assures you that if you come for her, you come for all of us."

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Throwback BIC: Lovergirl

"i just want to be your lovegirl/i just want to rock your world..."--Teena Marie

We all know that too many renditions of "I just want to be your lovegirl" leads to "I need your lovin" which leads to "fire and desire" which bursts into flame and culminates in "every little bit hurts" and finally leaves you "out on a limb". So the lyrics, as with all Throwback BIC jams, qualify this diddy alone. Add to that the overuse of the gauzy lens and the fact that Teena was clearly not playing that huge guitar she strapped on. And of course, 80's BIC is the best BIC because of the hair. Enjoy!

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Twitter BIC

"do you know/what it feels like/for a girl..."-Madonna

I think that crazy women everywhere are rolling around a bit in the burgeoning popularity of Twitter. Finally, a play-by-play outlet for your craziest thoughts and moments. Erykah Badu twittered the birth of her newest daughter, M.I.A. twittered just after the birth of her son. Solange twitters every crazy thing that happens to her (getting sick on the plane, fainting in the airport, tour bus accidents) and also uses it to tell people what's on her mind about various news items and trends. Rihanna even twittered a response to Oprah's show about domestic violence. But isn't it a little scary to have a place where women can talk about all the crazy mess that's on their minds? Obviously, this is the new wave. In my mind's eye, I see a future of the internet flooded with tweets about breakups, birthing tweets, tweets about men, and pms rants. Which is sexist, but do you really put it past us? I mean...really. Do you? 

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Lesbian BIC

"please have my baby/yeah i'm talkin to you..."--Lloyd

This brings a whole new spin to the old "he got me pregnant so I couldn't leave" trick.

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Stop The Madness

"when the drama starts to hit the fan/raise your voice but not your hand..."--Keke Wyatt

I've actually had enough. Add to the DIC list of women-abusers Joe Torry and (collective gasp) Minister Bebe Winans. Add to the BIC list Rihanna, who twittered how much Oprah doesn't know about what's best for her when we all saw this. Add to your mental rolodex the fact that almost half of 200 teenage girls interviewed about violence said Rihanna was responsible and 44% of them said fighting is routine in a relationship.

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DIC Report

"****** is crazy baby/don't forget that boy told ya..."--Jay-Z

Nervous Laughter: The Bane Of His Campaign And Still Kickin [HuffPost]

Maybe Barack Should Be Nervous [CNN]

I Still Haven't Quite Decided If We Should Laugh [HuffPost]

I Feel That By 2012, He Will Be Thoroughly Inappropriate [HuffPost]

It Must Have Been Good [Bossip]

Someone Please Tell Him The Election Is Over [Politico]

"Had You For Eighteen Years" [Google]

Added To The List Of Things To Never Utter On The Radio [Bossip]

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BIC Report

"and the girls go crazy..."--R. Kelly

Yeah, I Said It: Kristen Wiig Is Too Funny For SNL [Jezebel]

And Apparently So Is Andy Samberg's Mom [Jezebel]

Laura Ingraham Needs To Get Laid [HuffPost]

Jessica Simpson Begs American Public Not To Call Her Fat [HuffPost]

I'm Starting The Rumor: Elaine Wynn And Ruth Madoff Are Lesbians Together [HuffPost][NYPost]

Seeing How The Jig Is Up On The Whole Virgin Thing... [People]

Just Like Mama, Bristol Palin Really Knows How To Pick 'Em [HuffPost]

Michelle: "Just Want To Make Sure: I'm On This Cover Alone, Right?" Oprah: "Michelle, Please Don't Ask Dumb Questions" [BlackSnob]

Pack Your Bags! In Atlanta, You Can Be A Housewife Without Being A Wife Or Having A House [Bossip]

More BIC after the jump...

Ummm...Let's Not Get Carried Away [Slate]

My Grandmother Warned: Marry An Ugly Man And It's The Children That Will Pay [Slate]

Yet Another Way To Ensure Your Daughter's Life Is One Long Walk of Shame [Jezebel]

Meghan McCain: Unafraid To Not Be A Featured Speaker At The 2012 Republican Convention In Guam [HuffPost][HuffPost]

Hayden Panettiere Does Outwardly BIC [UsMag]

More Powerful Than A Locomotive [ChiTribune]

Accepting Bets That This Won't Prevent Tyra Telling The Contestants They Don't Want It Bad Enough [HuffPost]

Oh, Dana... [HuffPost]

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Throwback BIC: My Man

"two or three/girls has he/that he likes as well as me/but i love him/i don't know why i should/he isn't true/he beats me too/what can i do..."--Diana Ross

Backstory: 1979, and Diana had just started divorce proceedings with the father of her children, Robert Ellis Silberstein, after a particularly rocky marriage and it's written all over her face. Apparently this song hit a bit close to home. I honestly don't even think I'm Coming Out is a good enough actress to strike this much of an emotional chord and it not be mostly authentic. Classic, and classic BIC.

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Daily BIC: Great White Weave

"i like a girl with extensions in her hair/bamboo earrings/at least two pair..."--LL Cool J

The comedy--and the BIC--in this is not that Katie Holmes went and got herself some brand spanking new hair, but that White girls have *finally* gotten with the 21st century and traded in the tired old "extensions" label for what it really is: a weave.

With the influx of White women adding hair to their heads, both well (evidenced by Katie) and very, very poorly (evidenced by Britney Spears and Paris Hilton--exposed tracks are a no-no), it's nice to see that our melanin-challenged sisters are finally joining the OT's (Original Tressologists, Black and Latina women) and calling a spade a spade. If you add pounds of someone else's locks to your head, then that's a weave, plain and simple. I'm glad we're all in agreement!

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Daily DIC: Def Poets

"she said/she'd prefer a broken neck/to another broken  heart..."--Amir Sulaiman

The Truth....

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Crazy Baby Lady Update

"damn/i think i wanna have yo baby..."--Salt N' Pepa

Already Nadya's BIC is turning into something less humorous or interesting and more creepy and disturbing. That said, all she deserves at this point is bullets. Updates include:  

• Victor Munoz, Nadya's publicist, publicly dumped her, calling her "nuts". Um, yeah!
• Nadya's dad bought a house in La Habra with for the clan.
• The older children are depressed...in other news, no one blames them. 
• Nadya's children are beginning to wonder who Daddy is. If she knew, maybe she would tell them.

That's all, folks. I can't...I just can't.

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Daily DIC: The Saga Continues

"cuz i'm her ex-friend/ex-homie/ex-lover/so stop the phone calls/voicemails et cetera..."--Yung Texxus

He's been outed and disgraced, spent 99 days in jail, and been relegated to a sales job in Texas, but Kwame Kilpatrick's public shaming is far from over. This week, the flogging continues with the release of even more texts--only this time they're not just between he and his mistress/Chief of Staff, Christine Beatty, but a whole new cast of characters.

The new players include his sister Ayanna, who calls the Kilpatrick's constituents "idiots", and his wife Carlita, who speculates that he's having an affair(ya think?) and insults Eminem (yes, that Eminem). [HuffPost]

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The RiBICulousness of Bonnie Fuller

"but i don't mind if you come and play with us/just don't talk too much..."--Colby O'Donis

She's been named "Editor of the Year" by Advertising Age twice. She's served as the editor-in-chief for such huge American publications as YM, Cosmopolitan, and Us Weekly. She is the former Vice-President and Editorial Director for American Media, and now Bonnie Fuller is CEO of the sure-to-become-a-conglomerate, Bonnie Fuller Media. Bonnie Fuller is an incredibly accomplished woman. And yet, she's one of the most ridiculous women I know. To see what I mean, simply go to Bonnie's page on Huffington Post and read some of the headlines she's posted over the past year. Now, I know that she's a master at spin, a master at stoking the fires of celebrity and fully plugging the American public knee-deep in gossip veiled as pop culture news. But honestly, you would never know that she's an accomplished writer and publishing executive by the Tourett's Syndrome-esque headlines she's made her mark. You would never guess the breadth of Fuller's influence by what she deems reportable from day to day. And here's why.

Bonnie Fuller makes rash, broad, sweeping generalizations about absolutely everything. She's like an SNL character that's only slightly--albeit painfully--funny. When Anne Hathaway's very longterm romance was interrupted by the fact that her boyfriend was a liar and thief who might be headed to the clanker, Bonnie's response to the situation was "Anne Hathaway--It's Time To Get Smart About The Men You Date!", as though Anne had spent the past 15 years on a never-ending trampfest. That particular romance was actually, if I'm not mistaken, Anne's first and only public relationship and she seemed to be deeply in love. That Bonnie minimized it to such frivolity while maximizing it to a federal case made her sound like an idiot. Then, after John Travolta and Kelly Preston's only son died suddenly earlier this year after injuring himself during a seizure, Bonnie quickly published "John Travolta Tragedy: Why Are Celebrities Cursed?", in which she trotted out John and Kelly's ultimate misfortune and plastered it alongside freakshow deaths like Anna Nicole's and Michael Kennedy's. She even asserts that celebrities have disproportionate amounts of tragedy because they drink-and-drug too much and have too much vacation time. Of course, this was wildly inappropriate for an article posted under the pretense of being about the horrible and unfortunate death of an innocent, sick 16 year-old boy.

Bonnie Fuller also sounds like a sloppy mix of a twelve year-old mean girl and a bored 76 year-old stoop-ridden grandmother in the vein of Miss Benita. It seems she sits around thinking of the silliest things that women can think of--why Michelle Obama absolutely MUST get pregnant, like, now, and why Jennifer Aniston needs to shut up and stop "dissing" Brad and Angelina and the press (which, it must be said, she was not doing repeatedly). Giving voice to such drivel makes women look dumber than ever. And since women's stock is quickly plummeting in the society's eye (degrading amounts of violence against us, He's just Not That Into You/Tough Love, Sarah Palin) I think we should take all the smart we can get right now.

Bonnie Fuller is also, for someone who is supposed to have their finger on the pulse of pop culture and hotness, consistently and tragically wrong. Some gem headlines from the past year include "Obama! If You Want To Win--Boot Biden Now And Bring Back Hillary!", "Michelle Obama Pregnant? Why The Nation Needs Her Bundle of Joy". I must add that shortly after Bonnie's "Shut Up Jen!" article about Jennifer Aniston "dissing" the media and her ex and essentially alienating her public, her new film Marley & Me made a disgusting amount of money at the box office. Apparently, the public didn't agree with Bonnie's assessment.

Bonnie also has the perverse habit of linking just about anything she can pull out of her hat together without any real concern for how the two things are interrelated. Prime example is her recent post on Rihanna titled "Tina Turner to Rihanna: Leave Chris Brown Now!". Of course, while this implies that those words actually left Tina's mouth, the entire article is instead about how Rihanna should read Tina's book and then leave Chris Brown. Riiiight. Because 21 year-old girls will read Tina Turner's biography and see the next 20 years of their life the way Tina's was right before she broke away from Ike. And plus, they're two Black entertainer couples, why not? Not like Bonnie could have said "Loni Anderson to Rihanna: Leave Chris Now!" I suppose, and yet, Bonnie never really makes her case for the connection.

The last thing I want to do is dog a woman who's made such a name for herself, so much so that she wrote a book called The Joys of Too Much: Go For the Big Life--The Great Career, The Perfect Guy, and Everything Else You've Ever Wanted. But Bonnie Fuller is probably one of the biggest things wrong with pop culture today. Her sweaty, gossipy tone that never really coherently makes any important statements, chips away our nerves. And so, I'll say it how Bonnie would best like to hear it: "Wow! Bonnie Fuller Is Super Annoying And Always Talking About The Dumbest Stuff!!"

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Daily DIC: Song Cry

"but deep inside a ***** so sick..."--Jay-Z

The other day I found myself thinking about the house that I found so beautiful in the 2002 Jay-Z video for "Song Cry". I was in love with the bedroom back then. Well, I went to Youtube to catch the video, and to my surprise the bedroom was no longer so beautiful to me. Bygones. I did, however, spot a comically interesting comment from a Youtube-er, "Lil J"*...clearly a male. The quote read "How was I 2 kno u was plain sick of me? Dats wat im askin now", which lead me to the hilarious conclusion that "Lil J"*, invariably feeling a bit despondent as he reminisced on how badly he'd mistreated his now-departed girl, logged onto Youtube to see what Jigga had to say about his state of sorrow. In my mind's eye, Lil J sits in front of his Mac, head in palm, slumped across his desk watching the video repeatedly to numb the pain. Sound familiar? Maybe we're not alone, ladies. There's life on their planet after all.

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