Breakfast With Coco Chanel

The Evolution Will Now Be Televised...

Wed, 14 Dec 2011 19:28:00 -0800

I was your convenient whore;

Bounced around like a few ideas

And passed around like a trick in a brothel

with unsurmountable pussy galore.
When we first started out it was all fun…

We partied, we shook, and we bounced…
Yet, at the time, nobody really knew about me;
Just that I was new to the scene.
That I was the one that made EVERYBODY real good,
Like Dr. Feelgood…
To think about me…
I triggered nothing but great memories.
I was a smooth operator,
Steering clear from niggas that caught the vapors.
Wishing ya’ll would remember me back in ’89…
When there was just Sunshiiiiiiinnnnnne….
Yeah that was me that put that pep
In ya step…
That brought that beautiful vibe to your life.
When I was celebrated, in the jungles with my brothers
And on quests of self discovery with a tribe
And then somewhere along the way, you forgot…
Forgot that I gave you a dream…
So, you let niggas run trains on me
And pimped me out to sell your soul
For all about those Benji’s Whaaaat? Hell No.
I was a gangsta’s paradise
A crackfiend’s dream,
A hustla’s diary
And a teenaged girl’s role modeling video queen
Hell, sometimes you’d let me show em
What it’s made fo & that it was ok to be demeaned
You turned me into an oversexed, wild, misogynistic BEAST.
And STILL…. I rise
Like the bread from yeast.
Yes, there were a few who tried to do right by me;

Like apologizing to Mrs. Jackson,

And queens expressing U.N.I.T.Y.
Tried to help me be the empowerment of people
Who both loved and hated me freely
So, I became the color of water
Transparent to be loved wholly again
And all that’s happened, is I’m just a jiggaboo’s
Hoe again.
You’ve offered me up to the devil
And shared me amongst your secret society
Made me hypnotize this generation
Tarnishing my name while trying to maintain my significant propriety
I get it that everybody wants to shine;
That you’ll fabricate your life from corrections officer to drug kingpin
Just to be “Bout That Life”
All in the name of me… I’m the devil’s advocate
Invincible and indestructible
Highly criticized
And always glorified.
Because of ME you want to sell dope,
Live immorally,
Walk away from your families…
For the Clothes, Bank rolls, and hoes

But isn’t that what you wanted to get… from me?
Especially when you became a Nigga With an Attitude
And screamed from every ghetto hood
That bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks?
So now, I’m supposed to take the fall for dismantling our youth behind this???
I remember when it was all about
I need love & Roxanne, Roxanne
Now you have made me to poison our children
Because you want to be ATL’s #1 “Snowman”
Lawd I wish someone would go back to bat for me
Bring me back to what I was initially created to be
Cuz right now, niggas be muggin in clubs angrily
And all the women stay bed hoppin on the daily
I just want to be embraced by the ones
Who loved me first…
Not the ones seeking recognition because they
Obeyed an unworthy dream’s thirst…
YOU made ME your convenient whore
Yet by all I’m loved and adored
No woman nor man
Berated me from the start
Just a plea to be respected
Because things do fall apart,
The basis of my Roots
And the Common basis of
Having more sole than combat boots…
The bafoonery of coonism, gold chains and overly tatted down low
Mainstream niggas needs to stop
And Common always did say it best…

However I AM what’s become of HIP HOP.

Chanel X. Street ©

Unapologetically, Shamelessly

Mon, 14 Nov 2011 21:20:47 -0800

Over the last few months, I’ve learned some things about some of the people close to me. I ended a faux friendship with a couple of men, because they were both selfish and greedy. I’ve distanced myself from girlfriends because I felt that the “friendship” wasn’t being reciprocated when the chips were down for me. And I’m fine with that. No regrets, just lessons learned.

I look in the mirror and I see a vibrant, young woman who’s constantly trying to better her circumstances. Who’s constantly seeking to better herself on the inside… mind, heart, and soul. And it amazes me at how the actions of one or a few people can literally shroud the light that’s fighting to come through, by breaking my spirit.

You ever feel defeated? Lol… There are days I will walk away from a battle because I just don’t have it in me to fight. As wisdom encompasses me, I’ve learned that all battles aren’t worth fighting. However, defending my heart is a constant. And sometimes, even the best defense has been broken. And that is when I feel defeated.

Ironically, it’s always a Trojan horse. I always look for the good in people, and when I’m presented with what “appears” to be a show of good faith, I willingly accept because I am an optimist. But once infiltrated, that good faith quickly becomes betrayal. I’ve always said I’m going to write a book one of these days… and trust, I will NOT be changing the names to protect the guilty. And revenge is best served cold on bound paper with multiple chapters. But in the interim, I have this platform.

Over the years, I have become hardened, and cold. I’m skeptical of everything and EVERYONE. I have a really good friend whom I’ve known for over ten years… he told me about a year ago, “Chanel, when I first met you, you were soooo sweet. A really sweet girl with a big and welcoming heart.” Then he asked, “What happened?” It broke my heart to hear someone I care about be that honest about who I used to be versus who I’ve become.

But you look around, and it just seems that all of the tables have turned. If I were a severely insecure, gold digging, crazy baby daddy having, label whore, up in the club every weekend with multiple kids staying at my mother’s house type of chick, I’m sure I would have been married and well off by now. But here I am, single, attractive, funny, witty, outgoing, no kids, no drama, a good relationship (for the most part) with my mother, a car, decent credit, not one but THREE jobs… and brothas just keep passing me over.

I could see it if I were into the heavily tatted dudes with tattoos up and down their necks who are still trying to jumpstart their rap career, or reformed gang members whose current occupation consists of multiple runs to the trap house during the week, or dudes that scream “Have a baby by me, and be a hundredaire”… but I’m into just regular working class men. And for whatever the reason, I just don’t seem to be good enough. So hell yes, I am unapologetically, and shamelessly bitter. Rather, enraged. Because I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me, that has kept me from being “the one”. (And please believe, this will make it into my book)… only because I know I will eventually get my happy ending… even if I’m 75 by the time it happens. And I know whoever he may be, he will be 20 thousand times better than anyone I THOUGHT I wanted to be with.

But until then, I’m the devil’s advocate, Eve… and I’m passing out apples.

Finish ya breakfast.

35 And Counting

Tue, 04 Oct 2011 18:11:15 -0700

It’s a dismal day here in Los Angeles, today. And of all the days when I have absolutely nothing to do for the day, I get a wild hair up my ass and decide that I want to write. As I roll through my mental rolodex of the happenings in my life and the changes I am and have been experiencing, I’m finding solace in the woman I’m literally growing into overnight.

At 35, I’ve come to realize, see, and learn a lot of things… not only just about myself, but about others. In my teens, I wanted to be the popular girl… the girl that EVERYBODY knew and was cool with… I succeeded at that through sports and because I was considered one of the “cute girls”. Now, in my young, “know it all” teenaged mind, I rationalized that the more friends I had, I would never feel lonely; regardless if I had a boyfriend or not.

Then, I hit my 20’s… oh boy… what a ride… A chance meeting with a music artist at a club a friend and I went to, catapulted me into the Hollywood scene, and turned me on (rather, turned me out) to the party life. I literally became an “It Girl” overnight… Never waiting in line, never having to pay, always granted access because I was always cool, and a lady and I ALWAYS looked like I belonged. I partied with celebrities ranging from the likes of pop icons, athletes, Oscar winners, to underground hip hop artists and even pioneers in music… and I don’t regret not one thing about it. I learned, from being in that environment I never wanted a public life like these people.

However, I was smart. I made it my business to know the promoters and the security… That’s how I was able to party amongst the elite in music, and entertainment royalty. And I did this, 5 nights a week. Went to work M-F 8am to 5pm, got home, took a power nap, got up got dressed and went out every night Sun-Thur. NEVER partied on weekends… in my mind that’s when all the “regular” people partied. And my lil bourgeois ass wasn’t trying to party with the “regular folk”… That was my routine, every night, every week; and I kept at it from the time I was 23, until just before I turned 30.

In my late 20’s I always said I wouldn’t be the “old chick in the club” and I’m still holding fast to that guideline. But in my approach to 30, my needs vs. my wants changed. I looked up and saw that I partied my entire 20’s away…. A lot of which I can’t even remember (Blame it on the A-a-a-a-a-Alcohol). I looked around and saw that most of my friends were married, starting families, and I had to go and make new single, childless friends. Kinda shallow… but truth is, kids and marriage change friendships. Period.

So now I’m 35, and looking for that nirvana of a healthy standing relationship. Now, living in Los Angeles has not made my plight easy. But, I’m hopeful. It’s funny how when you’re immature or even a late bloomer it really affects your life and the things that you have or should have accomplished by a certain age. I was a late bloomer… and even still, I’m blooming. But, at this stage in my life, I now know who I am. I now know where I want to be, and I’ve just about figured out exactly how to get there. And for me, that in itself is an accomplishment.

35 has been a pivotal point/age in my life. Looking back, I made A LOT of bad decisions (some I enjoyed, but most with consequences), but no regrets… just lessons learned. I am not the old chick in the club… I’m just the healthy vibrant woman who knows how to stay her ass at home at night. I am no longer the “It” girl in Hollywood… I’m just trying to be the “It” girl for someone special. And I’m certainly no longer the popular party girl… I’m just the woman who’s learned how to enjoy life by not going to the party but being the life of the party… which is my life, as I see it, as it’s going, and as I continue to grow. Immaturity allowed me to chase the wrong things, maturity is allowing me to be chased by the right things… I’m 35 and counting, and it’s gotten better. I’m ready.

Finish Ya Breakfast.

The "Friend" Game

Tue, 06 Sep 2011 20:29:22 -0700

*Comes into room singing, “Friends… How many of us have them? Friends… One’s we can depend on, let’s be friends”* “Let’s Be Friends”… how often does one hear that in his or her life especially when deciding who that someone special will be when it’s “cuffing” season?

Funny, I spent an entire Summer “not tripping” off of being “Just Friends”. So much so, I had my Summer Roster on and cracking to where I had a few brothas and a couple WB’s (white boys) on 2-3 week rotations… Until that “one” came along and split my entire wig in quarters. Not half… but in 4 corner blocks. Smh. He could carry on a conversation that would make Mother Teresa’s panties soggy with excitement. However, all that starts well, definitely didn’t end well.

I got thrown the “Let’s just be friends” curve ball. And of course, my response was “I thought we were just friends… we’re just kicking it, right?” Well, let him tell it, not so. His rationale was “I can’t give you what you deserve”. Now… I’ve said time over and time again, don’t go talking about what you feel a person does or doesn’t deserve before you take a long look in the mirror and ask yourself if you even deserve what you are getting in life, or from that man/woman… etc…

So… now that I’ve shared a little bit of background that brought this whole thing up, hopefully now you, as my reader can relate to me. What is it exactly when you say “Let’s just be friends”. I know in my mind when I say let’s be friends (to a man), that means we only speak on birthdays and holidays and an occasional “Hey how are you”, once or twice every six months or so. We’re not hanging out, we’re not making snow cones, we’re not going to dinner and shit like that. So in essence, we’re not really friends… more like acquaintances that (more than likely at some point) have slept together; albeit once or a few times. But what I’ve noticed, is when a man says “Let’s Be Friends” he REALLY is trying to make you his homegirl. And expects you to be cool about certain shit that only a real homegirl would be cool about.*brakes screeching to an extreme halt* “Pause yo ass homie”, please and thank you.

So, I’m curious… if you know that person is really feeling you, why waste your breath and time by splitting their face wide open by suggesting being “just friends”? Because REAL folks knows that real friendship is something altogether different than what that man/woman is offering. So keep it 100. Simply let your “friend” know that “Hey we’re cool and all, but I’m just not that into you”. At the end of the day you’ll still have your “friend’s” respect. He or she may not like what you said, but because you were honest without trying to sugar coat the situation, that person will definitely respect you. But playing both sides… will make a real person lose all respect, interest, and say fuck it, two tears in a bucket and be on to the next… and giving you the “Random stranger passing me on the street” look… also known as the “blank stare”.

Now, I know I may sound bitter… and that’s ok… say what you want about me. I believe in honesty… no matter what the consequences may be. So when a person isn’t completely 100 with themselves then on that extra bullshit with me… that leaves no room for “friendship”.

Finish Ya Breakfast.

Wire Walking Rats vs. Genuinely Real Women

Tue, 06 Sep 2011 19:47:57 -0700

I don’t know about you, but I’ve noticed that the only time I ever post blogs is because I’ve been rubbed the wrong way about something or another… which is fine by me, because I’m a passionate person and I’m a TRUE believer in self expression.

Today, I would like to touch on something that I’m sure A LOT of good women (that take care of themselves) have to contend with, when faced with “serial dating”. I myself, am a single 32 year young woman, with no kids, a good job, medical benefits, 401K… etc… I know how to cook, clean, and a few other things (mind ya business on that last one… only “special individuals” see that side. Moving forward… the circle of women that I run with are all pretty much on the same level. Some are married, with children (fortunate heffas! Just kidding on the heffa part) some divorced and some are just single mother’s paving the way for their child(ren) or they’re just like me, single successful and have their act’s together. On the outside looking in, we APPEAR to be high maintenance because we either drive nice cars, have nice homes, dress well, and/or are label whores (which goes back to dressing well). Ummm, I was making a point here… Oh…. I remember….

Then you have the women, that have 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 (heaven forbid) kids and living at home with their mother, brother, and his girlfriend, and Uncle Rodney (I’m just giving a situation… all names and references are figments of my imagination, unfortunately some of these situations actually exist). This woman, has no real aspirations in life, no job, no education (and not trying to get one), no REAL sense of self, more than likely receiving some sort of public assistance or hustles for a living (i.e. boosting, street pharmacist, credit card fraud etc…) THEN you have the WIRE WALKING (HOOD) RATS…. these women usually consist of some of the afore mentioned AND the following characteristics… she’s somewhat independent (sometimes). She suffers SEVERELY from a ghetto/hood mentality, she might have one or two kids that are half her age (because she was fast and hot in the butt growing up and no one ever took the time to tell her until AFTER she had her second child), and has a lot of “uncles” coming through to “rock the spot”. She has no idea of self, self preservation, or what her value is. She gives men any and everything they want from her, (i.e. sex, money), and doesn’t make them earn her affections, time, or anything else for that matter, because she’s the pursuer. And for the most part all she gets in return is hard d*ck, wet ass and bubblegum. Yet, all of these women I have just named in this paragraph have NO PROBLEM meeting, and getting a man…. I said GETTING, not KEEPING.
Now, this is my problem with the topic of the day… Why is it so hard for decent women (such as myself), to meet a man that would consider her as his equal and not his adversary? It has recently been brought to my attention, that a good woman is too much work for the common everyday man. Men no longer are looking for a challenge. Which is sad. I’ve noticed of late, that most (not all,) men tend to gravitate toward the women that he can “rescue” and mold into the woman he wants her to be, and/or gives him whatever he wants/desires… In other words, a weak minded woman. I guess that’s supposed to be a the cake he gets to eat, right? Whatever.

Why do the real women, who are self sufficient, not relying on anyone do anything for them, have it so hard when it comes to dating? Now this next comment goes back to my blog “Starters and Finishers”…. I constantly hear men talk about they want an independent, confident, responsible woman. But when that woman is sitting right in front of his face, he folds, or chooses to be with the other type(s) women that I previously mentioned . Which further validates, that men REALLY do not know what they want.

But like the saying goes, women are like apples. All of the good ones are at the top, and the not so good are at the bottom. And guys choose to go after the bad ones on the bottom of tree because it takes more effort and work to get to the good ones on top. Thus, good women being too much work. And honestly, I am offended by this because I myself (including women that I know) all know what we can bring to the table in a relationship. But at the same time, women like myself, doesn’t want a man that isn’t willing to work for us because in the end we’re left unappreciated.

Now…. I really would like to touch on these wire walking rats… the ones that do any and everything for a man…. and if you get mad then YES I am talking about you. If you’re a female and reading this, whether or not if you’re the female I’m speaking of, you know what I’m talking about… Listen and learn… IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN…. WHY would you give a GROWN MAN money, and you’re not in a committed relationship with him, or his wife… ?(I think that covers it) USE THAT MONEY TO DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE FOR YOUR CHILD(REN).

And men… (those of you that do this)… how do you feel as a man, taking money from a single mother? What kind of a REAL man does that? I have the answer for you…. a trifling man. And again, if you’re getting mad… then YES I’m talking about you.
Real women, knows and understands her role, limitations, and responsibility she holds in a relationship… taking care of a GROWN man is NOT one of them. Not making a man respect her, and wait for her and treat her the way our grandfathers treated our grandmothers makes it really hard for the women that do. The homely county recipients, and wire walking rats are making it too easy for men. And it’s f*cked up for the real women, who are caught in the midst of this thing called dating.

STOP MAKING IT SO DAMN EASY FOR THESE MEN. MAKE A MAN BE ONE! Unless he’s a cripple, mentally disabled, or shares a blood line with you, you have NO business doing for him like you were the one born with a penis, and he with a vagina.
It’s because of these women that the real women can meet a man, but don’t get substantial, valuable relationships… but the difference between the wire walking rats, vs. the real genuine women… is when the real women do get substantial valuable relationships…. we KEEP our man. WWR’s (wire walking rats) like I said… they only get hard d*ck, wet ass and bubblegum.

Finish ya breakfast.