I have spent much of today getting some writing done for three publications other than this place. Anyone who’s ever written for someone other than themselves knows this is a feat done best in the cliche cafe while wearing a beret and smoking French cigarettes. Mostly, though, I just listened to my iPod (which is stuck on a new playlist I was creating to go on my marathon bike rides and I went on one yesterday wearing shorts without pockets so I stuck it in my sports bra and it has boob sweat on it - I can’t wait to take it in to get fixed: Tech guy or gal: Ok, so what happened to it? Me: Oh, it’s drenched in sweat from my boobs. Can you fix it?).

Finally, I just left the house to get a passion fruit iced tea and sip it while I let the ideas come to me.

I’m going to slap the Cover Girl off the next girlfriend of mine who says, “Don’t be nervous! Just write! You write every day!”

Then I’m going to crawl into her lap in the fetal position and ask her to rock me to sleep.

So, I’m looking for inspiration. I mean, I have ideas and all, but I seem to write impassioned things when I just happen upon them and it strikes me.

Right now, all I have going for me is a tiny daughter who can’t reach the cereal on the top cupboard (hidden there from her brothers who EAT BOWL AFTER BOWL OF CEREAL WITHOUT STOPPING TO BREATHE). Would you like to see?

What’s on your mind, dear gentle readers? Give me some inspiration, would you? Actually, on second thought, anyone who inspires me the most will win something. I should probably have something to give away because you don’t want me going over to my junk drawer and pulling out expired coupons or pink paperclips with butterflies on them.

Oh! How about some water?

No, seriously. I got some Primo water which uses bottles NOT made from crude oil, but from renewable resources, like corn. Don’t believe me? Watch this video. You’re skeptical, I know. Why should I offer Mocha inspiration for a case of WATER? Because! You’ll be doing something good for the planet! You’ll be helping the environment!

It’s either water or a broken boob-sweated iPod. You want the water.

*EDITED* Votes have been tallied and winners have been chosen. Next post will announce the winners.

As dispassionate scribblings dictate, it’s time for some links. And some answers.

1. Belinda erroneously believes that the Black character in an ensemble cast always dies. Not true. Smoking Aces left my boyfriend Common alive as well as Alicia Keys. So there.

2. I’m sad. I got this fabulous invitation to be flown to San Francisco and make coffee for a How-To video back in September and I couldn’t go. Something about being a “supervisory administrator” and “homecoming” and “we need you” so now I’m forced to watch Erin’s new project for BlogHer and cry big, fat, juicy tears.

3. Tricia asked me a question on this post which led to this post and then she left this comment:

I’ll have to read this again when I have more time to ingest it… I know you took no offense at my question, but I was thinking about it the other way- Does the question or fact of your racial heritage get ‘thrown at you’ (these being the important words here- I don’t know how to italicize in a comment- but hey I spelled italicize right on the first try!) often?

I think it’s a bit of a different question.

So here is my answer to that one:

Yes, it gets thrown at me. For instance, in dealing with a student who is Black I might be asked to “deal” with them because (this is awful, terrible) sometimes the White teachers seem afraid to deal with them or get told off for asking. However, I get “told off”, too, but I can sometimes couch the counseling of that student in different terms that they might respond better to and that’s precarious in and of itself. Yes, the Race Card is always there and I can’t help but to think of things in racial terms that others might not think of without my prompting.

So we’re having this discussion of allowing students to wear hoodies in the classroom but the problem as I see it lies in the fact that students have these and almost nothing else with long sleeves to wear. Let me clarify: many of the Black students own only these (in my noting them while walking around my school) and if we say they can’t wear them in the classroom then we’re limiting them. But we’re also punishing them by writing detentions for wearing them. It’s an ugly, stupid rule and I hate it.

Another one was when a student had her braids ripped out of her head by her parents when she misbehaved on a field trip. She came to school in a bandana and refused to remove it because she was so embarrassed so she was made to sit in the In House room until she followed the “no scarf” rule. I’ve had to go on and on about Black Girl Hair Issues to no avail, but I truly believe that any color girl would have done the same thing. I just hate that it was a form of punishment for her by her parents and then that we punished her again. Rules are rules I’m told. Which is why I hate them. Some of them keep us safe, but we honestly could have had some compassion for the child.

Ok, that just got really long for an answer and I feel that I’m no longer making sense on the issue.

Oh, and another thing! I hate it when sentences start with, “Ok, so you’re Black. Answer this question for me…” and yet I put myself in positions where non-Blacks don’t show that much-needed empathy because they’re trying so hard to UNDERSTAND, BECAUSE I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND.

Now I’m really not making any sense.

4. Sometimes people write things that hit you between the eye. Ouch. Others write things you’ve actually done before and you wonder why they wrote about it so well. Could be that you I just don’t make much sense sometimes.

5. And sometimes you jump from post to post and find gems that make you giggle and want to be friends with complete strangers.

6. Dealing with lint? Look no further. This product that someone sent me was met with an “ehh. big deal” smirk on my face. It’s basically tape. I could do that. But NO. I couldn’t cut it into squares that fit into my purse perfectly where I can take them out, take off the backing and viola! Lint removed! Sheer genius.

7. Need a super-duper snack during these days before Thanksgiving that make you feel smug about eating healthy? vegan? gluten Free? Look no further. (Who writes this drivel? And these were the brilliant words of the ad writers of my youth.) But the Cinnamon Sugar Soynut Butter from Simple Food is pretty darn satisfying on a graham cracker. You might just finish the jar in one sitting. You might. I wouldn’t. No no no. I would NOT do a thing like that. It might take me two sittings. It’s worth it to buy a jar for the cute little saying on the side:

Sing it when you chomp!

Cheer it when you chew!

Ask all your friends,

“What’s food to you?”

8. So, what did I think of the new Chevy Malibu? Here’s my quick-and-dirty: the outside looks fabulous, I liked the V6 better than the others, that was my first hybrid driving experience and it didn’t disappoint. However, the materials used on the interior felt a little low-end to me. I realize why they asked me to drive it, though: I have a new driver in the family and my opinions stemmed from my concerns about being 15 and doing this confounded driving thing for the first time. To wit: I want them to change the speedometer from jumping 20 miles at a time because even though the average person can calculate that 70 is, indeed, between the 60 and the 80 I thought that a new driver has too many other things to think about and that it should be made plain. Much better review and great pictures found here by my buddy Andrew whom I met in Memphis.

9. Lest you believe that I’m hanging on to Soynut Butter, lint remover, and finding great new blogs and that that is what is making my mouth turn upward these days into a semi-smile, I have a secret: I’m trying a new make-up for a company that also wants me to model it for them. Model? Me? WHATWHATWHAT?

I’m hanging on to that mostly because I missed out on making coffee in SanFreakingFrancisco. And because it made me feel pretty when I was asked.

So I am slow on the uptake again. It’s always this way. I can write, write, write for days on end and never seem to post them. There are no fewer than five entries just sitting there waiting for me to ask permission to write about someone or needing a little tweaking and yet here I sit wondering which will be published. In any case, I promised to write some things about great products and they seem to fit the Environment Friendly theme so here goes…

First, I have to mention that one of the reasons I decide to accept products from Holly is that she is one of the best e-mailers (some of her stuff should be blogged) but she’s got a great big heart and wants to work for uncompromising companies. Here are my current favorite products from things I love so much I would make out with them. In public. On a crowded street. Seriously. They’re that good.

One of the tricks my mom taught me growing up was baby oil. There are no babies to be found in my house unless they are visiting and their mommies take them home after they spit up and poop in my presence, but I have bought baby oil and applied it after showering on an almost religious basis ever since I moved out of my parent’s house. Because of that, I don’t use lotion. Well, also because the main ingredient is WATER and thus, you are forced to re-apply until you’ve put a metric ton of that viscous substance on your body.

When I first tried the shaving oil from Pacific Shaving I was sure I would have to apply baby oil anyway after shaving because I assumed it would get trapped in my razer and not give me a close shave.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

My legs were velvety smooth after shaving and I kept rubbing them all day. It made me want to make out with my own legs and I’m just not that flexible after all these years. Would you be embarrassed if your co-workers caught you running your own hands over your legs under the table while you were trying to have a serious conversation?

Tip: come up with a pre-determined lie to tell them when they do.

“Mosquito bite.”

Works every time.

The products by Recycline are fairly good as well. The cutlery and plates and cups are REALLY cute colors and dishwasher safe, but it’s the fact that I can put them in my bag in the morning for my yogurt and not worry about losing them and paying an arm and a leg for expensive flatware should I misplace them. I have yet to do that, but if I do, I won’t worry. They are reasonably priced. Plus, I doubt if I will miss the purple spoon on my desk after consuming my fermented, bacteria-laden food.

Y um. Doesn’t that sound good?

But see? You’re doing something good for your body AND the environment. Isn’t that worth it?

Uh-huh appears to be the correct answer.

Recycline also make razors and toothbrushes, but I admit they are pretty standard. The toothbrushes are fine, but the razor did break easily after I used it. In fairness, it could be my gorilla-like legs (pre-shaving oil, of course) that broke it. But the end popped off after the third use, so I might suggest that little detail be worked out.

These girly girl products also made it to my mailbox and if you don’t click on that right now you must not want to giggle at their site which asks Do you wash your hair with toothpaste? For women, however, this isn’t really a laughing matter unless they’re with their girlfriends talking about being not so fresh which is, like, every other sentence out of our mouths. Right.

Can’t you just imagine the conversations about Sweet Spot products?

Oooohhhh, girl. I am all about finding out about the pH of my sweet spot. Aren’t you?

Hell to the yes. I am ALL. OVER. smelling like number 11.

Which one is that? The basil grapefruit?

No. Who wants to smell like basil, grrrl? You are outside your mind.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

No, no. Number 11 is the citrus galbanum. Duh. Everyone knows that. This ain’t your mother’s sweet spot wash.

Surely the commercials will be just like this. I’m a geranium lavender gal myself, but you didn’t hear that from me. You did, however, hear me loving all the products. How one reviews this other than to say It’s Good Stuff escapes me at the moment. You ladies will try it if you want so I don’t feel the need to really try to sell this one. You men will ask the women in your life, “What is she TALKING about? Citrus? In that area?”

I’m not certain how eco-conscious Big Bad Mama products are, but I saved this one for last because it’s excellent stuff, but they’re also humorous in their product line. The body wash comes in a beer bottle and smells orangey and clean, but my favorite product by them is the bath fizz. It’s imperative that should you decide to try them that you get it in “Weed” and try just try not to reminisce your high school years or at least that head shop you were so fond of frequenting during your Experimental Years. Or whatever you want to call them.

They are that evocative. And yummy smelling.

Now when was the last time you heard that combination of words?

Most people spend the Labor Day weekend grilling food, swimming one last time before the neighborhood pool closes, and soaking up some sun. I spent it with a gooey substance dripping from my eyeball, sleeping after taking Benadryl, and taking my boys to the Abraham Lincoln Library for a lesson in the consequences of hatred. It was a rip-roaring, helluva fun time weekend.

What I wanted to do was write about these fantastic hot dogs that a nice lady named Britt (if you have an interesting name, I kinda always want to know about you and be your friend) gave me after my visit to California this summer. She assumed, since I was writing about California, that I was a Californian but alas, I hail from the Land of Lincoln. Still, she let me try the Hoffy Extra Lean Hot Dogs and, as a Chicagoan by birth is expected to do, I like hot dogs. There was only a short time in college after I read “The Jungle” by Upton Sinclair that I became a vegetarian. That lasted a few years and then one day I drove by a Burger King and the smell was too much for me to put off anymore.

I was sick for three days after eating that double Whopper.

The hot dogs she sent were, without a doubt, the best I’ve ever tasted. I tried them without the obligatory mustard and onions (my current preference) though I get a hankering for a Chicago Style hot dog once in a while and give in to temptation again.

Normally, I’m only sick for a day after a Chicago Style hot dog.

Hoffy Extra leans taste like real meat, they’re not fatty at all, and those suckers are enormous.

So big, in fact, that I posted it here for you. See! Enormous! Huge! And really really good.

Too bad I didn’t grill them up for Labor Day while enjoying some last few minutes of Summer Sun. Instead, we had open faced onion and beef sandwiches with buttery potatoes and watched “Bull Durham” with my mom. That movie has some of my favorite lines ever, excellent music, and not one damn hot dog can be seen in the whole movie.

What kind of baseball movie is that?

*you used to only be able to purchase them in SoCal, but now there is a website to order from with a good introductory offer. Click here for details.

One of the things we’re committed to doing for our very active children is to give them:

1. Plenty of exercise (”Damnit. Go run a lap around the cul-de-sac before I sit on your head.”)

2. Lots of water (”No, you cannot have pop for breakfast. Are you crazy? Pppfffttt. WhatEVER. No!“)

3. Daily vitamins (”I don’t care if it’s not shaped like a freakin’ manga character, just take it.“)

and

4. Nutritional foods. (Must. cross. Cheetos off my grocery list now. You would have to wrestle me to the ground to give up my Twizzlers, though. You do NOT want to go there with me, for I am wicked and will devise ways to put them up your nose when you are sleeping.)

Since I’ve been taking classes, however, Kennimus is famous for his frozen pizza dinners. He’s a damn chef extraordinaire with that remarkable feast.

Because of the Frozen Pizza Marathon my boys are currently competing in, I was thrilled to be contacted by Matisse and Jack’s to try their bake-at-home energy bars. There’s no refined flours (Bad! Bad flour for being refined! Normally, being refined is a good thing, but with flour? Bad!) or hydrogenated oils. It’s like a brownie mix, but you add yogurt, applesauce, and vanilla for the healthiest bars possible. Morgan is the best child chef I’ve ever had who makes a mean egg sandwich, so naturally, he helped in the baking.

He also helped in “product placement”, so this isn’t the best picture, but hey! You get lemons! And my dirty tea kettle!

Morgan proved that he is now to be trusted with scissors. We’ll give him that rusty axe to play with next.

Then, we added yogurt and applesauce to the dry mix.

You must have the very best vanilla. I traveled to Juarez, Mexico for this. (Not really. I was there on a mission trip a few years ago and picked this up at the market and I’m making this bottle LAST. It’s divine.)

Furious stirring isn’t necessary, but he somehow felt manly doing this. Not to worry. No chocolate chips were hurt in the making of these bars.

He did well to spread them in the pan, but, as you may be able to tell, we are using the wrong size pan to do this in so we added some foil to the empty part. We probably didn’t need to do so because the batter was thick and didn’t ‘run’.

After baking them and waiting FOR-EVAH (a la The Sandlot) for them to cool, we forgot to take a picture of the entire pan, so you have to settle for what we happened to leave after trying some of the bars. They were chewier than I thought they’d be, but my mind focused on the This Is Healthy part, so we loved them. You have to refrigerate them after they’ve cooled, but I highly recommend heating them up for about 8 seconds in the microwave (Screw the healthy, right? Don’t worry about those electromagnetic waves and infrared lights. We like our chocolate melted.)

This got the Mocha Family Stamp of Approval (ribbon cutting to take place during a ceremony next week) so we suggest you go buy some. They offer free shipping with 5 boxes or more and you can always try the other recipes they suggest for the mix. You know what really helped to sell it for me? The name. Matisse and Jack’s. Honestly, it doesn’t get any more hip than that.

Since I’m all about food right now I have some requests. Two, to be exact, and if you could leave me some help in the comments I would be eternally grateful and promise never to try that Twizzler trick I mentioned earlier (and that’s not all I know about Twizzler fun, either).

First, I’m going to Kansas City, Kansas next week for a business trip and I have an evening free to myself without a group of people so I need help in deciphering where the very best in rib joints in the city are. Suggestions? Do you know of an excellent place to eat and get ribs? Do you LIVE there and know it intimately?

Second, I’m trying to retain my Super Bowl Appetizer Championship status from last year. Not too long ago someone sent me this amazing recipe for battered onion rings that I have yet to try, but are also too hard to make for this kind of party. So, what is a kick ass recipe that will keep me in the winner’s circle? I mean the very best thing you can think of to eat, you know? While surrounded by lots of other people? Aaaaand alcohol? I will accept soul food recipes, too, seeing as this is the Soul Bowl, but I don’t do chitterlings. Nu-uh. No way. Not happenin’.