As I've mentioned previously in this blog, I come from a big family and sizable group of friends with whom I spend a considerable amount of time. We've had wonderful times together and made great memories, whether it's in celebration of a holiday, birthday, milestone, achievement or 'just because.' We just love to be together. However, it's all coming to a bittersweet crossroad. Sweet, because it involves major change, new places, people, things and experiences; Bitter, because it involves major change, loss of fellowship (as we've known it for forever), physical closeness & proximity and a shaking up of stability & security. As very close siblings/relatives/friends, my group (affectionately known as Angelz & Co.) does almost everything together. We're always at each other's homes, in each other's cars, shopping together, eating together, drinking together, crying, laughing and fighting together. We do almost everything together. Not always as the entire group, but at least 2 of us are together on any given day. That is about to change....in a major way...and it ain't gonna be easy for any of us.
My sister (who I'll refer to, from now on, as 'QB') and I are planning to move out of state in the very near future, to 2 separate states. She and I are the eldest of the crew and are the leaders, for the most part. If any of our siblings or friends need (to know) or want (to do) something, more than likely, they will consult with me or QB....and more than likely, QB or I will (help) work it out/make it happen. For instance, if someone wants to have a party for themselves, their child, friend/relative, they will probably call me. They will expect for me to pull details together and make sure things get done properly. For family gatherings, such as holidays, summer BBQ's, etc., they will likely call on QB....and she will pull it together. There's a sister or sf we call on for hairdos, a sister we call on to borrow money from, a sister we call on for fashion advice/assistance, a sister we call on for babysitting or emergency pickups/dropoffs, a sister we call on for conflict backup....there's a sister or sf to call on for just about everything. To not have that is going to be a major shock to each of our systems and is going to be a major adjustment to adapt to.
Granted, there will still be 4 sisters (and one brother, who does his own thing outside of us, most of the time) living in our hometown but it's just not going to be the same. I may be giving myself and QB too much credit but I'm afraid that our siblings are not going to keep our 'Angelhood' alive. I'm afraid for that, because they usually rely on one of their big sisters to initiate family gatherings and group activities. I'm afraid for that because they get easily upset, annoyed, frustrated and their 'idgaf' (I don't give a f*^k) switch gets turned on too easily. I'm afraid for that because I won't be around to 'save the day.' However, in recent months, we each have gotten better with communicating and relating to each other, so I will pray on it. I will pray and I will have faith that my siblings will not let the 'Angelhood' crumble; that they will, in fact, stand taller....be better. I pray that, with these major changes that are about to occur in our lives, the ties that have bound us together for so long, will not come undone; that they will be lengthened and strengthened so that they will hold us together even closer.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
FLASHBACK POST: IT’S OFFICIAL!
This is an excerpt from my short-lived Facebook mini-blog, The Musings of a G’va: documenting & discussing the ups & downs, ins & outs and rounds & rounds of becoming a 'premature' grandmother, written on June 29, 2010
I just came from my daughter’s first prenatal doctor appointment and my belly is so abuzz with excitement that I can’t finish my lunch (and believe me, I was HUNGRY since before we got to the appointment). All day, I was looking forward to the appointment (after getting a last minute ‘welcoming to accompany’ from her last night) but I can't say I was excited about it. I was more curious to know how far along she was and when I could expect my life to change indefinitely and immeasurably.
When I first heard my daughter was pregnant, I was on fire! ‘Why would she do something so stupid, so careless, so irresponsible, so disappointing?!’ Why would she do this to herself?! Why would she do this to meeeeeeeeeee?!’ I heard the news from someone else and didn’t want to ask my daughter for fear of the confirmation but, I knew I’d have to face it sooner or later. I preferred sooner. So I asked. She denied it but I knew she was lying. Ultimately, she confessed and my fate had been sealed. I had my moments of inner rage but was eventually able to make peace with the fact that I was going to become a grandmother before my 40th birthday. In doing so, I had to reflect back on my own experience.........
I remembered how it felt when I was ‘lost in love’ and became pregnant with my daughter; nobody could tell me a damn thing. My mother was greatly disappointed in me, being pregnant with a child at the age of 16 with 2 years of high school left to complete, but she never made me feel bad about it. She was there for me, every step of the way. So, I decided I would be my daughter’s ‘soft place to fall.’ She is, after all, almost 20 years old with two years of college under her belt. Who am I to put her down or make her feel ‘less than.’ At the same time, I didn’t want to appear to be too happy about the situation because, well.....I wasn’t. I wanted more for my child. My expectations were different. But she can’t live her life for me and I can’t live her life for her. So, I decided to be supportive and understanding, because, after all, this mother’s love is unconditional. But that was it; understanding and supportive was all I planned to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Until I sat in the chair next to my daughter’s bedside and watched the ultrasound technician do her thing………….
'Nurse Nancy' applied the gel to the ultrasound probe, adjusted my daughter’s clothing and placed the probe onto my daughter’s belly. After just a few seconds, I saw the clear ultrasound image of my grandbaby on the monitor, and I felt something change inside of me. I wanted to clap my hands and shout out with glee. But, I did neither.I kept my composure and stayed in my seat, but I smiled harder than I’ve smiled in a long time. My heart smiled too. I watched my daughter as she saw the image of her baby and I could see her ‘mother light’ flicker on. Her face brightened, her eyes lit up and she let out a little chuckle. Right then, I knew, everything would be okay and I was glad my daughter allowed me to share that special moment with her.
I just came from my daughter’s first prenatal doctor appointment and my belly is so abuzz with excitement that I can’t finish my lunch (and believe me, I was HUNGRY since before we got to the appointment). All day, I was looking forward to the appointment (after getting a last minute ‘welcoming to accompany’ from her last night) but I can't say I was excited about it. I was more curious to know how far along she was and when I could expect my life to change indefinitely and immeasurably.
When I first heard my daughter was pregnant, I was on fire! ‘Why would she do something so stupid, so careless, so irresponsible, so disappointing?!’ Why would she do this to herself?! Why would she do this to meeeeeeeeeee?!’ I heard the news from someone else and didn’t want to ask my daughter for fear of the confirmation but, I knew I’d have to face it sooner or later. I preferred sooner. So I asked. She denied it but I knew she was lying. Ultimately, she confessed and my fate had been sealed. I had my moments of inner rage but was eventually able to make peace with the fact that I was going to become a grandmother before my 40th birthday. In doing so, I had to reflect back on my own experience.........
I remembered how it felt when I was ‘lost in love’ and became pregnant with my daughter; nobody could tell me a damn thing. My mother was greatly disappointed in me, being pregnant with a child at the age of 16 with 2 years of high school left to complete, but she never made me feel bad about it. She was there for me, every step of the way. So, I decided I would be my daughter’s ‘soft place to fall.’ She is, after all, almost 20 years old with two years of college under her belt. Who am I to put her down or make her feel ‘less than.’ At the same time, I didn’t want to appear to be too happy about the situation because, well.....I wasn’t. I wanted more for my child. My expectations were different. But she can’t live her life for me and I can’t live her life for her. So, I decided to be supportive and understanding, because, after all, this mother’s love is unconditional. But that was it; understanding and supportive was all I planned to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Until I sat in the chair next to my daughter’s bedside and watched the ultrasound technician do her thing………….
'Nurse Nancy' applied the gel to the ultrasound probe, adjusted my daughter’s clothing and placed the probe onto my daughter’s belly. After just a few seconds, I saw the clear ultrasound image of my grandbaby on the monitor, and I felt something change inside of me. I wanted to clap my hands and shout out with glee. But, I did neither.I kept my composure and stayed in my seat, but I smiled harder than I’ve smiled in a long time. My heart smiled too. I watched my daughter as she saw the image of her baby and I could see her ‘mother light’ flicker on. Her face brightened, her eyes lit up and she let out a little chuckle. Right then, I knew, everything would be okay and I was glad my daughter allowed me to share that special moment with her.
Friday, June 28, 2013
NO FATTIES ALLOWED.....
To commemorate my 40th year on earth, I had the most awesome birthday bashcation this past December. I enjoyed 10 days of fun in the sun & wild nights with 35 of my favorite relatives & friends. With my crew of 15 (which included my mother, 2 aunts and 2 'other mothers'), I spent the first 5 days of my bashcation on a cruise from Miami to Jamaica and the Grand Cayman Islands. Then, fresh off the cruise, 7 of us headed to Miami Beach where we met up with 20 more of my birthday bashcationers. Now, it's a well-known fact that Miami is a sexy ass city full of sexy ass people who like to show off their sexy asses. But somebody, somewhere made it a rule that, in order to be considered a sexy woman in Miami, you can't be over a size 8; and to be considered 'premium,' it is preferred that you have light-skin with long hair (real or otherwise). Who told me that? Well, those words weren't exactly spoken but....well, just let me give you the back story.....
While my crew and I were in Miami, we took a walk on the strip near South Beach, to do some shopping, sight-seeing and people-watching. We also thought it would be in our best interest to get on a guest list so we wouldn't have to stand in a long line or worry about getting into a party that night. After speaking with a few party promoters, one guy (referred to as 'dude' going forth) presented us with an offer we liked the sound of. Dude proceeded to take us to his 'office' to meet with his boy (aka HNIC) to seal the deal. When we reached the destination, HNIC had his face all screwed up and basically told dude he 'ain't got nothing to do with that.' At first, we were confused and then, I thought, 'Oh this dude is playing games' and I walked away. A few of the ladies stood there for another minute then, they got HNIC's drift: I'm not giving them anything. They soon joined me and we continued on our walk. A few blocks up the street, dude came up on us and one of my friends told him, in no uncertain terms, 'Back off! We're not interested in anything else you have to say.' But dude stuck around and asked my friend to stop and speak with him for a minute. She did.
When she caught back up with us, I was shocked by what she said he told her: HNIC threw us shade because, he only deals with skinny, pretty girls (like the girls he was talking to when we walked up; now I'm no hater but uhhhh, those chicks weren't even cute. Skinny, tall, with long hair and light skin...yes but not a gorgeous one in the crew). In HNIC's opinion, our crew was not up to par. In other words, your crew is fat and busted. The friend who spoke with dude is of petite stature, has brown skin and is a gorgeous girl (often compared to the beautiful Gabrielle Union). There were a few others in the group of slim to 'normal' weight and a few plus-sized (me included) but all of us are attractive. With all of our various shades, body shapes and sizes, each and every one of us is sexy. as hell...and we know it. So we were shocked that anyone thought otherwise. We never entertained the thought that we didn't look good enough to party in Miami. Dude assured my homegirl that he's 'not like that, that's just how it is in Miami,' and he wanted to help us out. While she could've easily gotten her name on the list, my girl stuck up for the crew. She let dude know she appreciated him telling us 'how it is,' but we didn't want his help. We were good.
I'm not gonna lie though, my chocolate, plus-sized, beautiful, sexy ass feelings were hurt; and I was ready to cuss HNIC out. Who the f*#k did he think he was?! He wasn't all that attractive his damn self! I thought about it for the rest of my bashcation and some days, since. You might be saying, 'Girl please, don't let that mess rent space in your mind,' but it's not just about that guy or that experience. It's something I've experienced, directly and indirectly, numerous times. Being overlooked in stores, disregarded and disrespected by family & friends (people have no problem speaking ill of fat people in my presence), mistreated by men, etc. etc. While I can honesty say, I feel beautiful in my chocolate skin, I cannot lie and say I feel good about my plus-sized body. I know I have a beautiful face and a beautiful spirit but when it comes to loving my body, I have good days and bad ones. I know my shape/weight is something I can control and change but, that doesn't lessen the sting of being subjected to people/situations such as that in Miami. Despite having negative thoughts regarding my weight, overall, I'm a gorgeous woman; and on most days, you can't tell my size 16 behind nothin'! Not only do I look good, but I am desirable and, most importantly, I am worthy (of South Beach's clubs and any other place). Somebody in Miami got it twisted!
While my crew and I were in Miami, we took a walk on the strip near South Beach, to do some shopping, sight-seeing and people-watching. We also thought it would be in our best interest to get on a guest list so we wouldn't have to stand in a long line or worry about getting into a party that night. After speaking with a few party promoters, one guy (referred to as 'dude' going forth) presented us with an offer we liked the sound of. Dude proceeded to take us to his 'office' to meet with his boy (aka HNIC) to seal the deal. When we reached the destination, HNIC had his face all screwed up and basically told dude he 'ain't got nothing to do with that.' At first, we were confused and then, I thought, 'Oh this dude is playing games' and I walked away. A few of the ladies stood there for another minute then, they got HNIC's drift: I'm not giving them anything. They soon joined me and we continued on our walk. A few blocks up the street, dude came up on us and one of my friends told him, in no uncertain terms, 'Back off! We're not interested in anything else you have to say.' But dude stuck around and asked my friend to stop and speak with him for a minute. She did.
When she caught back up with us, I was shocked by what she said he told her: HNIC threw us shade because, he only deals with skinny, pretty girls (like the girls he was talking to when we walked up; now I'm no hater but uhhhh, those chicks weren't even cute. Skinny, tall, with long hair and light skin...yes but not a gorgeous one in the crew). In HNIC's opinion, our crew was not up to par. In other words, your crew is fat and busted. The friend who spoke with dude is of petite stature, has brown skin and is a gorgeous girl (often compared to the beautiful Gabrielle Union). There were a few others in the group of slim to 'normal' weight and a few plus-sized (me included) but all of us are attractive. With all of our various shades, body shapes and sizes, each and every one of us is sexy. as hell...and we know it. So we were shocked that anyone thought otherwise. We never entertained the thought that we didn't look good enough to party in Miami. Dude assured my homegirl that he's 'not like that, that's just how it is in Miami,' and he wanted to help us out. While she could've easily gotten her name on the list, my girl stuck up for the crew. She let dude know she appreciated him telling us 'how it is,' but we didn't want his help. We were good.
I'm not gonna lie though, my chocolate, plus-sized, beautiful, sexy ass feelings were hurt; and I was ready to cuss HNIC out. Who the f*#k did he think he was?! He wasn't all that attractive his damn self! I thought about it for the rest of my bashcation and some days, since. You might be saying, 'Girl please, don't let that mess rent space in your mind,' but it's not just about that guy or that experience. It's something I've experienced, directly and indirectly, numerous times. Being overlooked in stores, disregarded and disrespected by family & friends (people have no problem speaking ill of fat people in my presence), mistreated by men, etc. etc. While I can honesty say, I feel beautiful in my chocolate skin, I cannot lie and say I feel good about my plus-sized body. I know I have a beautiful face and a beautiful spirit but when it comes to loving my body, I have good days and bad ones. I know my shape/weight is something I can control and change but, that doesn't lessen the sting of being subjected to people/situations such as that in Miami. Despite having negative thoughts regarding my weight, overall, I'm a gorgeous woman; and on most days, you can't tell my size 16 behind nothin'! Not only do I look good, but I am desirable and, most importantly, I am worthy (of South Beach's clubs and any other place). Somebody in Miami got it twisted!
The Name Game
As we all know by now, Kim Kardashian and her now-fiancé(?) Kanye West welcomed their baby girl into the world on June 15, 2013. After hearing the news that the baby was born and healthy (yes, I think people really do care about that part), the first thing people wanted to know was, 'What is her name????' Initial reports informed us that the baby West was named Kaidence. 'Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,' I thought, 'that's cute. Not really what I was expecting but...I like it' (as if my opinion really mattered). Subsequently, a report was made that the baby's actual name was North. North West. 'Hell nawww,' I thought, 'they wouldn't do that to their baby girl. Please tell me it isn't so!' Welp. They did do that and it is very much so. WHAT THE HELL?!
TRUE, she is their baby and they can name their child what they want. But Kim.....Ye....really? I heard they have a good explanation (as if they really need to provide one) for the name; north is where they aim/hope for their relationship to go, nothing can be north of north and baby girl West 'represents a kind of north star' for the couple. Alllllrighty then. I feel y'all, but....still. I mean, I've toyed with having 'North Star' as my pen name but I don't think I would want anyone to address me as 'North.' And I don't think Lil Miss North West will want to be, either. She will have enough to deal with, having Kanye as her bigmouthdisrespectfulass-but-smartashellandIlovehimforKim father, Kim as her famousfornoreason-but-fabulousashellandIloveher mother and Kris as her crazyoverprotectiveintrusive-but-abossbitchaboutherbidnessandIloveher grandmother. Lil Miss West will have to pepper-spray the haters away, just for being fabulous by birth, being of mixed race in a crazy, mixed up world and being shouldbeagainstthelaw gorgeous (nooooo, I haven't seen her but I just know that girl is beeyooooooootahfull!). But, there's nothing she can do about that name (now). And for that, Kim and Kanye, I want you to know, you are selfish; as most parents are, when it comes to naming (amongst other things they do to/for) their children.
Think about it for a minute. If you're a parent, reflect on the reasons you had for giving your child the name you gave. Did you name him after his Daddy (and his daddy and his daddy and his..)? Is her middle name a combination of your best friends' names? Did you just make something up while watching your favorite TV show or in honor of your favorite snack or (God forbid) alcoholic beverage? How many times do parents give their child a name that is reflective of what they see in the child (you know how some people just look like a Jamel or a Catherine?) or hope for, for their child's future (do you think Barack's mother knew her son would need a strong, sexy name for his future position as a strong, sexy POTUS?)? I can't think of any that I know personally. Parents are often accused of trying to live through their children or force their beliefs and practices onto their kid.....and naming them something that has absolutely nothing to do with the child is where this mess begins. Listen, I am guilty so I am not pointing fingers. I'm simply making an observation. My daughter's name is a combination of her father's nickname and the first three letters of her 2 grandmothers' first names (both are 'Mar'). It wasn't my first choice but I will admit, it is better than what I had in (my immature 17 year-old) mind. Of course, after reppin it for almost 23 years, she has 'grown into' her name so it fits her. But, if I had to do all over, I'd put more thought into it and probably name her something sophisticated & mature, like 'Madison' or sassy and classy, like 'Chanel.'
If they wanted my opinion, I would recommend that parents-to-be think more about their child's feelings, individuality and future when deciding what to name them. We are temporary bosses over our kids' lives and sooner than later, they branch off and lead their own lives in their own way; so I think it's only right that they have a name that is more about them not their parents or anyone/thing else. But hey, that's just me.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
The Darker The Berry.....
DISCLAIMER: I agree that the spirit of a person has an effect on their overall beauty, but for the purpose of this post, I am talking strictly about physical attractiveness.
Over the past few days, I've gone back and forth with myself over whether I wanted to blog about (my thoughts regarding) the documentary, 'DARK GIRLS.' I knew it would be covered by many bloggers and media outlets and, really, I didn't want to be 'just another blogger' talking about the latest hot topic. Yet, here I am; not as 'just another blogger' though, rehashing what was said and providing my opinion about the work itself. I'm writing about my feelings, as a dark-skinned black woman who is proud of my chocolate hue. A chocolate woman, who, in spite of being able to relate to many of the negative experiences described in the documentary, loves having this complexion and has no lingering insecurities due to it.
For me, being dark-skinned has been more of a positive thing than not. Sure, I was called 'blackie,' 'tar baby,' "black dog' and such, as a child, by other children; and yes, I did feel slighted by some boys in favor of my lighter-skinned counterparts. A man once told me I am one of the few (yeah, he said few y'all!) pretty dark-skinned women that he knows. Pretty don't usually come in dark skin, he said.....and, he challenged me with, 'If you don't agree, then go ahead, name some pretty dark-skinned women you know?!'.... and he was dead serious. He also remarked how "all his baby mammas' were hot because they are light-skinned with pretty long hair....and he was dead serious. Unfortunately, remarks such as his are nothing new to me. I can't count how many times I've heard backhanded compliments, such as, 'You are so pretty to be dark-skinned' or 'That's a fine dark-skinned man/woman.' To be fair, I don't think most people intend to be insulting. They really think they are being complimentary (ignorant asses) and, most times, they are not 'checked' on it so they continue to do it. Still, I don't feel 'scarred' by those experiences. My mind tends to reflect more on the positive things I've heard regarding my complexion (I love being referred to as 'chocolatey'), and as a result, I LOVE THE DARK BROWN SKIN I'M IN. I don't feel inferior to the light-skinned woman standing next to me nor do I believe her complexion alone will gain her any wins over me, when it comes to the attention of a man, appointment of a job, etc. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not blind to the fact that there are men who prefer light-skinned women over brown/darker skinned women and I'm well aware that there are (still!) those who believe light-skinned people inherently are/look/feel better than a brown/dark one. However, those people can't change the way I see or feel about my pretty brown skin.
Yes, beauty is subjective and, therefore, not everyone will agree with what I see. Sure, there may be some people who look at me and say, 'She's cute' or 'she's aight' or even, 'she's ugly.' Yet, that matters not because, in my (not so humble) opinion, my being beautiful is a fact that NOBODY can take away from me....chocolate skin and all.
Conversely, I've heard people say things like, 'Dammnnn, she/he's not even cute and they're light-skinned!' As if it's unbelievable or unheard of for a light-skinned person to be unattractive. Or, 'Ahhh, he/she thinks they're fine/all that/better than somebody!' just because they're light skinned. No No Nooooooooooo people!!! Reverse discrimination is not right, either. Take the saying, 'The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice' - it sounds good but really, what are we saying we sing that phrase? In essence, we're saying our lighter skinned counterparts are not (as) sweet....or good. And that is simply not true. Sweet berries, good things and beautiful people come in/from all shades & complexions. Some of the most beautiful people I know range from light bright to dark as night, as well as the ugliest. Y'all know it's true....so please, act like you know (and stop being so damn ignorant)!
Over the past few days, I've gone back and forth with myself over whether I wanted to blog about (my thoughts regarding) the documentary, 'DARK GIRLS.' I knew it would be covered by many bloggers and media outlets and, really, I didn't want to be 'just another blogger' talking about the latest hot topic. Yet, here I am; not as 'just another blogger' though, rehashing what was said and providing my opinion about the work itself. I'm writing about my feelings, as a dark-skinned black woman who is proud of my chocolate hue. A chocolate woman, who, in spite of being able to relate to many of the negative experiences described in the documentary, loves having this complexion and has no lingering insecurities due to it.
For me, being dark-skinned has been more of a positive thing than not. Sure, I was called 'blackie,' 'tar baby,' "black dog' and such, as a child, by other children; and yes, I did feel slighted by some boys in favor of my lighter-skinned counterparts. A man once told me I am one of the few (yeah, he said few y'all!) pretty dark-skinned women that he knows. Pretty don't usually come in dark skin, he said.....and, he challenged me with, 'If you don't agree, then go ahead, name some pretty dark-skinned women you know?!'.... and he was dead serious. He also remarked how "all his baby mammas' were hot because they are light-skinned with pretty long hair....and he was dead serious. Unfortunately, remarks such as his are nothing new to me. I can't count how many times I've heard backhanded compliments, such as, 'You are so pretty to be dark-skinned' or 'That's a fine dark-skinned man/woman.' To be fair, I don't think most people intend to be insulting. They really think they are being complimentary (ignorant asses) and, most times, they are not 'checked' on it so they continue to do it. Still, I don't feel 'scarred' by those experiences. My mind tends to reflect more on the positive things I've heard regarding my complexion (I love being referred to as 'chocolatey'), and as a result, I LOVE THE DARK BROWN SKIN I'M IN. I don't feel inferior to the light-skinned woman standing next to me nor do I believe her complexion alone will gain her any wins over me, when it comes to the attention of a man, appointment of a job, etc. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not blind to the fact that there are men who prefer light-skinned women over brown/darker skinned women and I'm well aware that there are (still!) those who believe light-skinned people inherently are/look/feel better than a brown/dark one. However, those people can't change the way I see or feel about my pretty brown skin.
Yes, beauty is subjective and, therefore, not everyone will agree with what I see. Sure, there may be some people who look at me and say, 'She's cute' or 'she's aight' or even, 'she's ugly.' Yet, that matters not because, in my (not so humble) opinion, my being beautiful is a fact that NOBODY can take away from me....chocolate skin and all.
Conversely, I've heard people say things like, 'Dammnnn, she/he's not even cute and they're light-skinned!' As if it's unbelievable or unheard of for a light-skinned person to be unattractive. Or, 'Ahhh, he/she thinks they're fine/all that/better than somebody!' just because they're light skinned. No No Nooooooooooo people!!! Reverse discrimination is not right, either. Take the saying, 'The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice' - it sounds good but really, what are we saying we sing that phrase? In essence, we're saying our lighter skinned counterparts are not (as) sweet....or good. And that is simply not true. Sweet berries, good things and beautiful people come in/from all shades & complexions. Some of the most beautiful people I know range from light bright to dark as night, as well as the ugliest. Y'all know it's true....so please, act like you know (and stop being so damn ignorant)!
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